#(can whoever’s writing my life give me ten minutes please)

[thepunkmuppet]

ok so hear me out.

this has been rattling around in my brain for a good couple of days, i had two all-day art exams so i was just sat silently alone with my own brainrot for ten hours and honestly it paid off

so this is my idea for the magnus scrotocol protocol and what it could be about, but honestly if it ends up being way off i might actually write it - because of all the alternate universe shit it could easily be canon Somewhere Else. also i know alex and jonny said that it’s inspired by the video game control, but i know absolutely nothing about that game so please take this with a grain of salt, it probably won’t be canon but a guy can dream!!

so, it takes place on another earth, parallel to the main tma universe, where things are pretty much the same as real life. and while it’s obviously not a world without fear, the entities don’t exist there. well, until they do.

so when jon and martin do That One Thing and the fears are let out into the multiverse, the sheer energy they cause as they enter the outskirts of this world sends technology CRAZY. and everything, at exactly the same moment on every electronic device in the world, is just chaos, a mangled mixture of nonsensical noises and static (and maybe you hear a little “statement remains” here and there, not sure what the mechanics of that would be in terms of jon’s official status, but hey it would be fun and it would make “Oh…Hello” make sense). and everywhere around the world, people are just… watching. listening. frozen with the most complete and all-consuming feeling of terror they have ever experienced. and of course it ends, and no one wants to admit that it was real, but after around twenty minutes of society just grinding to a halt, everyone feeling the same thing at the same time EVERYWHERE, it’s a terrifying global phenomenon. the world is afraid.

and so The Experts (whoever would be assigned to deal with whatever this is) start doing their research, and they manage to “decode” it (which makes the ARG and stuff like MAG - Error even more meta and fun) and it’s straight up just mag 200.

and they say that it’s clear it was recorded via tape, and they don’t know how it made its way onto electronic devices like this because it’s A TAPE, it shouldn’t give off any kind of signal you would be able to broadcast, and nothing should be able to be broadcast on that scale in the first place. but that’s not the worst thing. the worst thing is that one of the voices in this mysterious message is that of uk prime minister elias bouchard.

and no, i don’t mean jonah magnus, i mean the ORIGINAL Elias Bouchard. i mean it makes sense - he was a white man born into a rich and privileged family, and despite his uselessness, no one batted an eyelid when he became head of the institute. so yeah, it doesn’t seem too out there to think that in an alternate universe, he became the tory prime minister. (hence “there will be some returning voices” - i think it would be so fun to finally hear ben play the real elias, and such a different role and experience despite being in a similar position of power in the context of the story)

so the series begins in a meeting of all the Important Brits who need to deal with this issue, maybe with our civil servant protagonist(s?) in the background serving tea or something like that. we hear basira say her “good luck” before the tape clicks off, and we’re finally introduced to the people she ended up unknowingly saying it to.

and i haven’t actually figured out plot details, it’s just my idea for the basic premise, and i do think it’s unlikely because of the rest of the plot. like, in my opinion it wouldn’t be that interesting having the characters try to figure out where the tape comes from, and what the events of mag 200 mean and how it happened and why it happened… because we already know that, and alex and jonny specifically said they weren’t going to spend time pretending like we didn’t know information that we already know from magnus. but at the same time, they said they want to “play around with the lore”, so a post-apocalypse show set in the original tma universe definitely seems off the cards and this is the most interesting Somewhere-Else-civil-servants idea i could think of.

but yeah, just my idea! again not sure what would happen in the rest of the series, but it would be really cool as a starting point. and maybe you could even have jon and martin existing as like,,, ghosts in the machine, communicating through technology and helping the main characters navigate a world with the fears in it. which would definitely explain the actual canonicity behind “Oh… Hello” and this idea of mag 200 being broadcast to the masses as the fears come through.

please do reblog or send me an ask and tell me what you think and your own ideas, i personally would lose my shit if something like this were to happen and i think it sounds really cool.

also im gonna tag @jonnywaistcoat because i would love to see what he thinks of this idea and any crumbs of either confirmation or denial he might give us (but also if he does see it i will lose my mind and probably spontaneously combust so there’s that)

#the magnus archives #the magnus archives podcast #tma #the magnus archives 2 #the magnus archives two #tma2 #the magnus protocol #the magnus scrotocol #mag 200 #elias bouchard #jonny sims #alexander j newall #rusty quill #rusty quill podcast #ben meredith #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #martin k blackwood #somewhere else #jmart #jonmartin #teaholding #statement remains #are you still listening? #this is pretty dumb and incoherent reading it back lol i hope people can actually understand what i’m trying to say #also #tmagp #apparently that’s the tag and i’m not opposed to it

[allie-campbell-bradshaw]

Chapter 3: Oath

A/N: Welcome to the third chapter of Top Gun: Baby, a love story following Bradley Bradshaw and Allie Campbell. This story is sequential, so if you have not already read the first few chapters, please go back and do so! All links to chapters and their mood boards can be found on my masterlist. I am dozens of chapters into this story and I absolutely HATE going in and editing these. I promise my skills in writing improve as we move forward. Like any story, the first few chapters are used to build background. Once Allie comes into the story, it gets WAY better. I had so much anxiety editing this chapter you have no idea! I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Swearing, Angst against a loved one

Chapter Three: Oath

BRADLEY’S POV

I was already finished getting changed into my white works, holding onto my copy of Reef Points as others were still messing with their white fabrics and dixie cup hats. This is the official “handbook” if you will that all Naval Academy students have to have memorized by the end of Plebe Summer. All it is are facts and details about the USNA and Naval missions, histories, and traditions. Like a textbook that you use for a college course.

Lucky for me, I was able to get my hands on one earlier this year thanks to Hollywood, another naval man that flew with my dad. He contacted me after I received my acceptance letter and promised that if I ever needed anything, he would help. That was code for “If you want me to put in a good word, I’ll do it”. I am a man of my own integrity and have every intention of creating my own repudiation. What the fuck am I saying? There’s no way anyone generational can create their own rep in this field. I am and will forever be known as “Goose’s kid”. It fucking sucks. I hate it, and am headstrong enough to prove them wrong with any misconceptions they might have of me, but I know for some navalmen, that will be excruciatingly difficult. I want to do this on my own. I want to prove that I should be here, not just that I could be here because of my dad.

Within the next few minutes, we were assigned our ICAO Company. A group of ten women were assigned to the Alpha Company. Natasha was one of them. She gave me a wave as she walked over to her quarters, in her dress whites, which fit her perfectly. I looked like a clown. I hated the uniforms, but didn’t want to complain too much, because there was a point in my life where I thought I would never get the chance to wear them.

I was one of the last to be called to a group, assigned to the November Company. Once we made it to our quarters, which was on the first floor of the building, I heard an Officer yell out “102 Bradshaw and Frasier”. Someone Frasier, whoever he was, was going to be my roommate for the next four years. 

I walked forward and made eye contact with him as he walked to the front as well. “Looks like it’s us!” He said in a comedic tone. I could already tell he was going to be a character. Honestly, I would’ve preferred it this way. I would rather be with someone goofy like me than be with a hardass.

We walked into the room and noticed that there were 2 sets of bunks. Whoever Frasier made his way to the one on the right, so I made my way to the one on the left. The bunks were made of a deep gray metal and the room was covered in tan white paint. There were two white sheets on both ends of the beds, a fitted one and a flat one. Both polyester. Score! I loved polyester sheets. My mom would surprise me on random occasions and take me to a hotel to sleep when I was younger. Most of the time it was when I did something good in school, like scoring a 100 on a big test or reporting a bullying situation to the teacher. I was considered a tattle tale when I was younger, but I didn’t care! I got to sleep in a hotel and swim in their pools! So, you bet your sweet ass when I found someone getting pounded at recess, I was the first one to run to the teachers and alert them of the situation. I would do ANYTHING to get to sleep in those polyester sheets! Damn, I was a hot dog.

“I’m Bradley.” I introduced myself, holding out my hand.

“Emmett.” He said with a big smile on his face, gripping my hand and giving it a light shake.

“Nice to meet you.” I said, watching him as he put on his sheets.

“Quit staring at my ass man.” He muttered out with a corner of the fitted sheet in his mouth, swaying his hips from side to side as a way to show off his backside.

I let out an airy laugh as I turned to make my bed. I was going to like this guy. He was equally as well humorous as me. Just maybe a little more immature.

“So what’s your story?” I asked him as I focused on my sheets.

“Buy me dinner first.” He quickly responded. I chuckled at his remark and shook my head a little. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to respond, which he eventually did. “My mom caught me and my buddies getting high and told me that I had two options: report my dealer to the cops or enlist in the military”.

I shot up from my bunk, looking over at him, his hands here resting on his hips in a way too casual way for his recent admission.

“What?!” I asked, still in disbelief.

“No, I'm just kidding,” He said, turning back around, “Well, not about the getting high part. She found my bong and I knew I was fucked. So when she confronted me about it I was able to shoot back with the ‘I’m already planning on applying to the Academy’ card. Which was true! I was already going anyway, it just bought me some leverage”. 

“I maybe wouldn’t share that story with the Officers on base”.

“Oh yeah I know! They think I got the idea in church. Sitting in the front pew, on my knees, getting the idea all of a sudden, saying it was God talking to me. They ate that shit up”. Shit that was good. My admissions essay was about him, and my mom, and my dad. Basically how my whole life has been a fucking mess. I was able to buy myself some pity, but his essay topic, now that was just genius! “What about you?” He asked me.

“It’s generational” I said to him, which was just the abridged version of all of my shit events. I tucked the pillow case in the pillow and threw it to the edge of the bed.

“Cool!” Emmett exclaimed sarcastically. “You look a little old to be here”. He stated boldly.

This caused me to smirk and let out yet another airy laugh. “I’m 23.” I answered coldly again.

He had his hands back on his hips, looking at me as though I had more to add to our encounter. “Well, this has been a fascinating conversation” he remarked, yet in another sarcastic tone. “Got a girl?”

I shook my head as I adjusted the sheets on my bed.

“Yeah me neither.” He said quickly.

“What!” I exclaimed, turning to him, “How does a guy like you not have a girl!” I was saying it more in a sarcastically joking tone, but there was some truth to it, because he was quite fun.

“I know, it’s not fair.” he said slyly. 

Just then, someone barged into our room. His eyes were a piercing green, his muscles protruding out of his solid black shirt, he wore navy green cargo pants and boots. His skin was a deep color of brown. “Ladies!” he yelled at us. He was definitely our detailer, the man in charge of training us for the summer.

“That would be us!” Emmett responded. Shit!

“Never speak unless spoken to!” The detailer screamed in his face. Emmett immediately went cold. “Now drop down and give me 20”. Before I could blink, Emmett was on the ground, doing pushups. “YOUR NOSE TOUCHES THE GROUND!” He screamed. Emmett went down further, until the tip of his nose grazed the tiled floor.

“And you!” He yelled to me, in less of an angry tone since I didn’t do anything wrong, “15”!

I got down quickly and did my push ups in perfect posture. The tips of my toes were on the ground and I went low until my nose was touching the floor. I couldn’t see him, but I saw an adjustment in his shadow, telling me that he was impressed with my performance. 

We both finished at the same time, standing up and looking at him. “You always stand at attention when being spoken to!” Both of us stood up, sticking our chests out, making sure to mirror each other so that if we messed up, at least we went down together. The detailer sighed and let out a “Jesus” before walking over to us and adjusting our postures to what it should be.

“My name is Denzel Housemen. You will call me sir until I tell you to stop”. He finished adjusting me and I made sure to memorize the position my body was in, holding my stance until I was told to stand down. “When I am not near you, assume that I’m close. I can approach you at any time of any day. So be ready”. He said as he adjusted Emmett.

He took a step back and examined both of us, “At ease gentlemen.” He said smoothly.

Both Emmett and I dropped our stance and looked at him, ready to go down whenever we should. We heard yelling coming from other quarters and assumed that everyone else was becoming acquainted with their trainers.

Denzel looked me up and down. “You must be the Bradshaw boy.” He stated, confident in his answer.

My face pulled down, knowing that he knew about me and the story of my family. “Yes, sir.” I said quietly.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” He started to scream at me.

“Yes, sir!” I yelled back, audible with clear diction.

“We expect great things from you”. He said calmly, before acknowledging Emmett. “Oh yeah, the kiss ass ‘found my calling at church’ admissions essay. Mom bust you for drugs or something?” He asked.

Emmett was about to answer and then froze, opting not to answer. “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!” Denzel yelled at him.

“No, sir!” Emmett yelled back. 

I had to bite my tongue hard, fighting back with everything I had not to laugh.

“Well, you both seem very intelligent. We’ll see if you last the night. Follow me gentlemen- and in proper posture! Pivot on your feet when you make a turn and never look down. I promise I will let you know if the ground erodes from the Earth”.

Emmett and I followed him as he made his way to the commons area. Men and women were lining up in their white works, standing at attention and facing forward. Most parents had stayed for this portion, the most important portion. The oath of office.

Right at 18:00, a Commandment of Midshipmen began the ceremony. They first informed us about our statement of intent and then ordered us to raise our right hand and repeat after him.

I looked over my left shoulder and saw Natasha, she raised her right eyebrow quickly, moving it up and down while she raised her right hand. I smirked at her and then looked over my right shoulder, he was standing right at the end of the row I was in, which only had 3 of my classmates separating us. Although he wasn’t beaming with happiness, he didn’t look upset or angry either. One could say he looked proud. 

I shot him a disapproving look before raising my right hand, keeping a sharp glare on him as I repeated after the commanding officer;

“HAVING BEEN APPOINTED A MIDSHIPMAN IN THE UNITED STATES 

NAVY,

 I SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I WILL SUPPORT AND DEFEND THE 

CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES 

AGAINST ALL ENEMIES, FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC; 

THAT I WILL BEAR TRUE FAITH AND ALLEGIANCE TO THE SAME; 

THAT I TAKE THIS OBLIGATION FREELY, 

WITHOUT ANY MENTAL RESERVATION OR PURPOSE OF EVASION; 

AND THAT I WILL WELL AND FAITHFULLY DISCHARGE THE DUTIES OF THE OFFICE 

ON WHICH I AM ABOUT TO ENTER, 

SO HELP ME GOD.

I closed my mouth and continued to stare at him, keeping my right hand raised as people cheered around me. I was now in the Navy. He lost. I won.

He didn’t cheer. He didn’t even smile. Instead, he looked at the ground before shifting his weight and walking away. Having no intention of staying any longer.

Yeah, that’s right. YOU lost. I won!

#naval aviator #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun #rooster imagine #maverick imagine #jake seresin #love strories #pete mitchell #natasha trace #natasha x reader #writers on tumblr

[ageofpiracyrp]

PLOT DROP 20: REVELATION

A week after the mission to the island with Karmel, analysis was complete on the materials discovered. The cave featured a variety of artifacts in varying forms: parchment (some in better condition than others), tablets (in excellent condition- a bit like Kindles that only display relatively short passages (up to ~30 pages of a paperback) but are powered by heat so that they work when held or exposed to heat, and the video where a djayyar repeated a six minute speech in five different languages.

Drones provided by Skylar and photographs taken by the drones and the rest of the group were used during the translation process.

Please note that any words in italics are notes - not part of the texts. Bold text is simply there for emphasis.

Without further ado, here are the translated artifacts.

The Video

The video is accompanied by several tablets with the text in all of the languages spoken.

I shutter this cave. After I talk with Mica, the descendant of my child who holds leadership now, I know I must. I must start a journey now, far away, to be celestial. He tells me that the land must be called QiruSha, after the love that made the lives of the people what they are. I am flattered, but nervous. I have seen what the descendants of the original citizens do with djayyar. I trust my child’s descendant Mica to keep the secret and pass it down so that a djayyar not under the control of anyone else may be able to receive my knowledge. It pains me. I am in such pain. I am old now, and the pain is worse than when I first unleashed my energy to strengthen the people.

I start my voyage now, but if one who is celestial may find the way, I leave a path to where I am. I think the celestial djayyar will understand my pain and know how I loved Kraysha, both the person I care for still and the land named for him.

You, djayyar - I am Qiru. I have lived to be very old - 502 Earth years. My truest love was named Sha. He was old for his species, but young for an Earth human when we first met, and I was barely an adult. We had a beautiful life together. He and his species became human, and some of the people of Earth feared them for a multitude of reasons. Sha, others of his species, several sympathetic Earth people, and I traveled via ship to this planet, and we made it a beautiful place to live for all except those like us: the djayyar. I fear that the people now love me so much, but I was an adult when I traveled to Earth- not an indoctrinated child.

Mica and I and our allies have decided to let the memory of me be buried in all but the name of the planet. I state this message in as many languages as I know well because language is fickle.

The pain to imbue those I love with strength and special powers is what I live with. I feel now that it was worth it to me, but it may not be for you. I leave this knowledge to you on how to do this because it is not an intuitive process. The ability to control metal and the longer lifespans the people here enjoy were blessings I was glad to give, but I am in such pain, dear one.

Whoever you are, djayyar who opened this cave, I love you. I am so grateful that you were able to enter the resting place of my writings and what I could piece together of Sha’s. On the cave’s wall up high, I leave you with the coordinates to my star so that you know. Sha has been with me in my heart this whole way, and I know he would love you too. I hope that you are safe and can enjoy life to its fullest.

The Accompaniment

There are two different handwritings found in this cave. Karmel assumes that one of these is Qiru and the other is Sha. Based on context, Karmel assumes that this passage was written some time before the video was recorded- perhaps even tens or hundreds of years before the video.

Sha was the writer, the one who was organized. For all of my gifts of language, that was never me. I have so many ideas that I struggle to write down. Now that Sha is gone, I tell our children’s children’s children’s children’s children about Sha’s love. I want them to know how much he wanted them to survive. I want my children’s children’s children’s children’s children’s children and longer to know Sha. I use my gifts of language in this cave so that someone in the far-off future may be able to read this, although I apologize if I am not clear enough after spending such time writing.

I am a person but I am also celestial. I care not to be worshiped, and simply want my family and friends to be safe.

Too late, I learned that I may imbue some of my celestial energy into the people around me. It made our children’s children’s children on this planet stronger. It hurt immensely, and I was unable to move as long as what Sha called a cycle. Although Sha was not here, his impact is on me always. I still hurt, and not simply because of the anguish of losing the one you love. It is an aching of the whole body that comes and goes- especially painful when I am already upset. But even when i am happy, I hurt. I think I will always feel this pain.

I wonder if I may try again so the ones that were not on this land might have such strength too. The people do not let me because they don’t like to see me hurt. I work the land with them and create fire, but I am in so much pain.

I am glad that Azi lives yet so that I do not feel alone in my history, but we will never be the closest of comrades. We meet with each other on some occasions, play games, and talk of the old times.

A New Perspective

 Karmel believes that this is one of the oldest writings in the room, and was written by Sha. This parchment was (perhaps lovingly) preserved in some substance that used to be more popular on Kraysha. The parchment was written in   Eesomdet, an old vanneer language that evolved into Vaddikot. It appears that Qiru also made a tablet translating this passage into Shavul and Videion.

We did not have a way of writing on our planet. I am told that this is understandable, as all of the planets are not in frequent communication. Our language I write in is one that is of the winged people, who look so like the animals of home we call birds. Their wings allow them to fly, and they have beaks, but they are an intelligent people. The people in the town of my origin call the winged peoples gods, but Qiru has assured me that the winged people are no better than he or me. The winged society has simply unlocked the secrets of technology much faster. Qiru was not raised among the winged people, but by the ones that he says look much like trees. The winged people call those that look like trees who raised Qiru rooted people. While Qiru was raised among the rooted people, he explains that the winged people’s language is better for conveying our thoughts. It is a beautiful language, he explained, and showed me how to write in it. I like it so much more than the language of our planet.

The people in the town of our origin tried to worship Qiru as a god like they did the winged people, but Qiru did not want them to. I understand this much more than the worship of the winged people, but only because I know him and love him so well. His radiant skin is marvelous to behold, and Qiru can fly even without the aid of wings. His beauty is the least significant aspect of him, however, as his heart and ability to love others are his best traits. He says that he loves me the way he loves everyone, but also in a way that is special for just the two of us. My feelings are the same, which is why I would follow Qiru anywhere.

Qiru seems not to age at all, but I find myself feeling the strain of aging. Our children whom we raised are adults now too, and experience their own lives. Qiru has a gift for learning languages more than I do. He says that his skill at communication is not magical, but I believe that magic is not always a thing of the species.

I write now that someday, people will understand why we came to this new circular land.

We, the people Like Me voyaged beyond the heavens, and I could no longer say that I believed in the gods of my youth when there is more to everything than the large circular land and water that we soared away from. We were scared, and in search of a home away from those that sought to take Qiru in the name of their winged gods. It is we - our family, our friends, and those others sympathetic that understand that Qiru is a person like us but different. We settled on a nearby land and we have prospered. Our journey was long, but this place is better for us. There is no worry of famine, and there is no fear that we will be struck down. We have near to 51 12s of us, of greatly varied Earth appearance.

A Small Excerpt

This passage seems to have originally been longer, but was not well preserved.

Qiru will outlive me, but I have lived 46 360s already. Azi tells me that I might change my form and have some time longer with Qiru and our children, but I cannot bear to. Qiru has the burden of outliving our children, and I only want to be in the form that knew him and raised our children.

Friends and Family

This is believed to be written by Sha.

My children are also the children of my dear friends. Our friends are gone now, and Qiru and I were tearfully asked to raise their children after the accident. I find it joyful that my children share the bond that all of the people Like Me have. We are one. We are individual. We are love.

I love my children. I tell them tales of their parents of origin. I make sure that they know the love of my dear friends. Qiru is no good at the love of words, but he says the words, and he hugs the children, and takes them on flights.

My children do not hear the counting, do not know when they were born, do not know how to change form. I don’t find this disheartening, but I find it different.

Notes on Physiology

This is believed to be an early writing by Sha, beginning in Proto-Elamite.

Uyti and Bimin remind me that Earth children do not usually have eyes the same color as their blood. We wonder if something is wrong. The first children born on this new planet had brown or blue eyes. The first unusual eye color we saw was gold, but we wondered if perhaps that was just a novel shade of brown.

No, the children that we had born on Earth from us never had gold eyes nor red eyes.

And just today, Azi said a child was born with such an unusual eye color that the human language has no words for it. I will switch to writing exclusively in the language of the bird people Qiru taught us.

The language does indeed switch to Eesomdet

Purple. The newly born child’s eyes are purple.

Lifestyle

This is believed to be written by Sha, but the parchment wasn’t preserved well. Here is the only fragment remaining that Qiru seems to have been able to record.

Qiru builds away, and I ensure the children of our civilization learn, flourish, and can think intelligently.

More?

This is believed to be written by Sha. The parchment isn’t well-preserved, but the accompanying tablet translation has a few more words than what we see. Here is the only fragment remaining that Qiru seems to have been able to record.

Azi brought more of us to our settlement here on our new planet. He said he did not need to wander far to find more of us who were awake and in search of something more than open space. We embrace them with open arms, feed them delicious foods which they are excited to try, and call them Friends Like Us. I will start classes with them right away so that they may learn to speak with more than just the mind.

---

There are other fragments scattered about, but Qiru seems to have not translated those and/or they do not say much of interest.

#aop plot drop #fantasy rp #sci fi rp #rp #alien rp #character: sha #character: qiru #character: skylar clarke #character: karmel vuker #death tw

[joyliiejolly]

As a lover - SEVENTEEN's Wonwoo

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purpose only, so please take it as a grain of salt and live laugh love all the way besties!!

This reading is done by my friend @bluerabb (she usually doesn't post any reading on her blog and she wants me to post them here so please considerate follow my blog if you want to read more from her ^^). I took note during her reading, proofread and added some of my own thoughts along.

There is a nsfw part in this reading (under "keep reading"), so if you're a minor reading this, please stop where I put my warning.

Without futher ado, enjoy the reading!

After seeing the cards, me and @bluerabb have decided that, whoever his significant other is, they're the luckiest person to ever exist.

This man will forever be my ultimate bias wrecker. He is the bias wrecker of all bias wreckers for me 😭

The cards:

Tyldwick Tarot: The Devil, King of Wands, Ten of Cups

Cosmos Tarot and Oracle: Four of Wands (rx), The Devil, Ten of Cups

Just look at the cards. Both of us spent a good minute sitting in silence because we couldn't comprehend what was going on. The women were too stunned to speak :D The possibility for the same two cards to come out from two different decks is low, but I guess it's not zero. And that two specific cards? I can't with this-

Wonwoo in love is passionate. His love is fiery. It stays burning brightly and relentlessly, against the winds, the rains, any storms or hurricanes.

Wonwoo is creative, and he's gonna find thousands of different ways to express his feeling to his person.

His love language is sooooo gonna to be physical touch (I don’t think I need to explain this any further with The Devil appeared twice :D). This can get a little bit extreme sometimes, to the point that he doesn’t let anyone get touchy his person, they're his person and his only. It can be a little bit of a toxic trait, as he can be overprotective and it can lead to controlling over his person, for a good cause but still. He just love them so much :(( Talking about being protective, he will get all rile up and turn aggressive if anyone dare to talk shit about his person and their relationship. This can get physical if people keep push his buttons. Sharing music is also one of his way to express his feeling. He will write love songs for his person (I'm literally in tears). And if it's not his music, he would go for songs that give off jazzy/old-school vibe or romantic classical piece.

He will keep his lover's pictures in a place that easy to see like his home screen/lock screen, wallet, and he would love it if they do the same. He treasures all the memories with his lover and the gifts they give him with all of his heart (put them in places that he can see easily, keeping them clean,…). He enjoys café date/tea date with his lover, when they can just sit down and talk about their day in a cozy and lovely space and filled with pleasant aroma. He also want to experience new things with the one he loves, a lot of first time together. He will want to try a lot of venture games, extreme sports with them, and he will lowkey hope that they'll get scared and hold on to him (omg my heartttttttttt the man is so slyyyyy I love itttttt).

Before being able to find the love of his life, he will go through some bad experience in relationship. It awfully affected him. This can explain why he has some extreme/toxic traits, since he is still learning to love TTTT His intention are good, but the way he express it could make his lover get the wrong ideas. He needs to be careful with his jealousy tendency and things he says/does while being angry. But again, he's still a wonderful lover. He won't give a damn if there are differences between him and his lover. He won't care how weird, how bad other people think of his person. As long as he can feel the connection with them, it's fine by him. He will see his person and treat them like royalty. You can say, he's smitten :D

(Minors please stop right here)

Now for some nsfw stuffs.

Wonwoo is a hard dom (again, don’t think I need to explain this any further with The Devil appeared twice :D). He loves to tower his person, he want his skin on their body all the time and he loves to see their expression (doing it in front of the mirror/anything that can help him see their face). He loves to know that it's him that making them feel good.

He could also enjoy shower sex (actually anything that related to water, I'd say pool sex too but private one tho :D). Cuffing can also be something that turns him on, like seeing his person get handcuffed to the bed.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen tarot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #svt #svt wonwoo

[bestiesenpai]

Hostage - Okkotsu Yuta

At first when I saw this my internal response was that there was nothing that I really wanted to write, no scenario that would warrant answering such a question. But I’ve given it time and well...what better thing to write than a horny for love delusional yandere? Gender neutral and Okkotsu in this has graduated from the school, I imagine him to be mid-20s 4.8k words

Content warnings: yandere shit(which in this context includes kidnapping, past stalking and being really fucking creepy), manipulation, noncon hand job

How long had you been here in this dark basement with only a red couch and a TV that wouldn’t turn on? There wasn’t a single window to tell you if it was day or night, no clock on the wall to say if it had been ten minutes or ten hours since you were kidnapped. You didn’t even know who could have taken you, knocked out from behind after hearing a mysterious voice.

There wasn’t a single lead to go on except for the fact that you would pass out from time to time and wake up to food on the low coffee table, hot meals that helped to soothe your otherwise empty mind and body for however short a time it allowed. Sometimes there would be candy stuffed into your pockets as well, candy that you never ate and let pile up in one of the corners of the room.

The door at the top of the stairs leading down to where you were stayed locked at all times and no amount of banging and screaming and trying to break it down worked. All your efforts were for nothing, you didn’t even make a scratch in the wood.

Whoever put you down here seemed too hesitant to show you their identity. You never heard anyone outside the door and whenever you thought you did, you would wake up however many hours later with food and no recollection of what happened before then.

Until today, when the door silently swayed open and there was the barely there tap of footsteps coming down to greet you. Scurrying behind the couch and crouching down, you were scared to finally meet your captor.

“Hello there.” He wasn’t at all what you imagined. A young man with noticeable bags under his eyes, hair with a few strands that fell into his face and an otherwise unassuming and slim build. His voice was soft and gentle like he was talking to a baby as he roused them from slumber.

He immediately noticed the way you were trying to stay away from him, making sure to keep the couch between you as he rounded it. A sad sigh left his lips, a short sound like he was already getting frustrated with what you were doing.

“Darling, why don’t you sit down? There’s a lot to discuss.” Gesturing toward the couch, he took a seat at the end. It was then that you noticed the sheathed sword he had on his back as he took it off and laid it on the table.

Your mouth hadn’t been used to speak to anyone in a long time, tongue heavy and foreign in your mouth. Having given up screaming for help a long time ago, you didn’t speak to anyone unless to yourself, and even then it had devolved to being just thoughts in your head.

So you shook your head no, trying to keep your sudden anxious breathing down to a minimum. You’d waited for this day to finally see who took you but now that he was here in front of you, just his presence brought you great stress.

“Are you feeling okay?” The man asked again, brows furrowing slightly. The look of genuine concern on his face is what caused you to speak, spiking anger in your heart.

“No!” You shouted, surprising both him and yourself.

“Why don’t you sit down, hm?” He patted the cushion next to him and you shook your head harder.

“No, no. L-let me go!” Tears were already beginning to collect in your eyes, some spilling out the sides. Were they from anger at being held captive? From how concerned he looked when he was the one who put you there? Was it from fear of what he could do to you? Perhaps hopelessness at the whole situation was starting to set into places you tried so hard to keep it out of.

“You shouldn’t yell, (Y/N), it’s not good for your throat.”

“What the fuck would you know.” Now anger was truly taking residency inside your chest, making it tighten with each pounding beat of your heart. This man had the nerve to call you by your first name as if he was a friend, the syllables rolling so smoothly off his tongue it sounded as if he had said it a hundred times.

“Don’t swear at me.” He snapped, face immediately going hard as he stared you down. The look made a shiver go down your spine, the anger quickly making space for fear to come as well. He sighed again, glancing at his sword before looking at you again. “Now please, won’t you sit down?”

This time when he asked, you listened. Hovering on the very edge of the cushion farthest from him, your entire body was painfully stiff and unyielding even to your own breathing. It was different when you were standing and he was sitting, it felt like there was a level of control that you still had.

But this felt like you were just a pitiful little rabbit with their neck caught right in a lion's mouth.

“Oh darling don’t cry, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His tone immediately shifted back to the soft and gentle one from earlier. Reaching his hand out, he stopped short of touching your arm when you curled yourself away. Putting his hand into a fist and tucking it back into his lap, he let out a sharp exhale. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t touch you, should I? You must be nervous now that I’m here.”

Sniffling and nodding were all you could do to answer him. Maybe there was a logical reason he might have taken you, there had to be a solution to whatever problem he had that involved you.

“It’s funny, I’d say. We’re soulmates and yet we’re still so nervous with each other.”

What?

“Why, it took me almost two weeks just to do this much! I finally stopped having Inumaki put you to sleep and-”

Huh?

“Before you know it this will all be a distant memory, we’ll be living together-”

“Wh-what the fuck.” Your voice was meek and trembling and there were fat tears streaming down your face that couldn’t be stopped now. Listening to this man go on and on about this life he’d made for the two of you all in his head was going to drive you insane.

“What was that?” He paused, a hopeful smile on his face. Glancing at him, you set your bleary eyes on the sword.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” As the swear left your lips, you flinched at his sudden inhale. “I-I don’t- I don’t know you. We’ve never met.” Burrowing your face in your hands was probably a bad idea, it was probably best to keep him in your line of sight, but you just couldn’t face him.

“Physically we’ve never met, but our hearts have. Our souls are connected, we just had to find each other.” There was a dip in the cushions and the ghost of his knee brushed yours.

“I don’t even know your name!” You croaked, further curling in on yourself by dropping your head to your knees. At this rate you were set to fall off the couch and onto the floor and you welcomed the reprieve not being next to him would bring.

“I’m Yuta. Yuta Okkotsu.” The first touch of his fingers on your shoulder made you yelp and jerk away, and you could imagine his hand hovering in the air. “But you can just call me your boyfriend, okay?”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Getting up from the couch the second time he touched you, you pressed yourself against the furthest wall next to a chess table with no pieces.

“Darling-”

“No, don’t fucking call me that!” Stamping your foot on the ground, you ignored his warning tone.

“(Y/N), I told you-”

“I don’t give a damn! I don’t want to be part of whatever bullshit you said earlier! Just- just let me go!” You were getting hysterical at this point, your whole body was hot and sweaty and your face was on fire. It was hard to hear anything over the ringing and pounding in your ears giving you headache.

Except you were able to hear the sound of a knife going through the air and feel it graze your cheek before sticking into the wall behind you. Everything fell away as you looked at the silver blade glinting in the harsh fluorescent light above you. There was just the tiniest hint of red at the edge, further proof that what you felt was real.

“I don’t mind you getting upset, I don’t mind you yelling and screaming at me. It’s a normal reaction to such a new situation.” Yuta’s low voice cut through the sudden silence and he stood up slowly, swaying slightly on his feet before planting them firmly on the ground. “But what I won’t have is such ugly words coming out of your mouth. That type of language doesn’t belong in a mouth as pretty as yours.”

He walked over to you slowly, building the tension with every step he took. It was then that you noticed, when he was only a foot away, that the silver of the knife matched the silver buttons on his shirt.

“If I have to remind you again, I promise I won’t miss.” Letting the sentence hang in the air, Yuta gave you a once over before grabbing onto your wrist and upper arm tightly and dragging you back to the couch. His strength was much more than you first assumed, there wasn’t a chance in hell that you could ever hope to wiggle out of his hold.

Sitting down with a huff, he pulled you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. Putting your hands on his shoulders, he settled his on your hips, making sure you were properly seated on his outstretched legs. Staring at the buttons on his shirt, you tried to avoid getting too close - keeping at least some semblance of an arms length between you and making sure your sex was far from his.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” It was amazing how easily his mood shifted from one to the other. What had just been a quite heavy and intense moment was washed away by a little uptick of his lips and the tilt of his head to the side.

The things you wished to say were lodged in your mouth, waiting on the tip of your tongue for you to open up and let them fall out. But you couldn’t afford to keep testing his patience like this, not after what just happened.

“I suppose.” So you bite your tongue hard and say what you think will get you closer to getting out. Whatever it is he wants you can give him so long as it keeps him happy and lets you walk free.

“I knew you’d come around.” The smile on Yuta’s face takes proper form, pushing the apples of his cheeks up and wrinkling his eyes. One hand on your hips dares to venture further onto the small of your back. The warmth of his palm would be comforting in another setting.

“Y-yuta.” It almost makes you sick to say his name.

“Yes?” It makes his eyes light up.

“When will I get to leave?” Somewhere along the line you’d stopped crying and now only your eyes burned with the memory of the tears.

“When I know you’re ready, (Y/N).” He said softly, rubbing a hand on your back.

“Ready how?”

“I just want to make sure of a few things before we start our new life together. Is that okay?”

Did you really have a choice?

“What things?” You pushed, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t worry about that right now. We’re together now and that’s all that matters.”

“Please tell me, I really want to know.”

“(Y/N).” He sang your name but it was anything but cheery. “I don’t want to talk about that right now, so drop it please.” Even though he was speaking his mouth barely moved, jaw locked tight in hardly hidden frustration.

“Okay.” You quickly let the subject go.

“Now darling…” Yuta brought a hand up to your face, trailing his fingers down your cheek softly. “Won’t you smile for me? You have such a pretty smile.”

The question of how he knew what your smile looked like cropped up in your head but you quickly stamped it out. Now wasn’t the time to worry about those things. Doing as he asked, you gave him your best smile.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” Skimming his thumb along your bottom lip, Yuta grasped your chin in his fingers. “I’ve been missing your smile so much lately, the recent missions I’ve been on have really put a damper on my mood.”

“I’m- I’m sorry to hear that.” Extending an olive branch wouldn’t hurt, right? It was clear he wanted your compliance in this scheme of his, desperate to have you love him. Your words shot straight into Yuta’s heart, making him bite his lip in to stop a shy giggle from coming out.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I have my darling with me.” A light blush went over his cheeks and Yuta let a sliver of the giggle out. “But there is something that would make me feel even better.”

“What’s that?” It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant when his thumb touched your lip again.

“A kiss. Just one, I promise.” Licking his own lips, Yuta grabbed onto your jaw more firmly. “I swear I’ll be gentle.” Weighing your options, the inkling that it wouldn’t be ‘just one’ was in the back of your head. But as long as it stayed just kissing, maybe you’d be okay.

“One.” You repeated, allowing him to pull you in and close the gap between you. Kissing Yuta was something that, once again, would feel nice in any other circumstance. The texture of his lips wasn’t bad, his breath didn’t smell and he seemed to know what he was doing. Maybe in another world, you really could have been soulmates.

Breaking the first kiss to take a short inhale, Yuta immediately went in for another. The hand that was on your jaw slid up to the back of your head, holding it firmly in his calloused hand to make sure you didn’t move.

“Y-yuta!” Whining against his lips, you tried to push away from him.

“Just one, I know! I know but-” He mumbled back, the tip of his tongue daring to touch your pursed lips. “I can’t help it, I love you so much.” Crushing you against him, Yuta got his tongue into your mouth when you gasped for air. The urge to bite him arose and you almost did, but he pulled away right as you made the decision to.

“You said only one!” Giving his chest a hard push, you wiped the spit off your lips in disgust.

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Putting his hands on your back, Yuta grimaced at you. “I’m sorry darling, I just got excited! I’ve been dreaming of kissing you for so long, can you blame me for wanting more?”

You could blame him for that and a few other things. Wiping your mouth off again, you huffed angrily and avoided his sorry eyes.

“Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t lie to you anymore, I promise.” Yuta mumbled, already forcing you closer again. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Yuta, no.” Shaking your head, you put a hand over your mouth. The blush that was on Yuta’s cheeks got darker and a hand gripped the back of your neck.

“It may be a bit soon, but there are other places where I can kiss you.” Latching his lips onto the side of your neck, Yuta sucked on the skin lightly. He didn’t want to leave any unseemly marks on you and he wouldn’t dream of using his teeth.

“Yuta, get off.” Tugging on his collar, you squirmed at the feeling. “P-please, Yuta, get off.” You were getting more desperate by the moment, accelerated by his lips going down the column of your throat and to the collar of your top.

“I just want to kiss you, (Y/N).”

“No, no I don’t-” As his head nudged your chin up, you started to sweat and really yank at the fabric in your hands. “I don’t want you to kiss me there, Yuta!” Your voice reached a crescendo and the soft sound of his kisses stopped. Pulling away slowly, Yuta kept his head ducked down.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Releasing the hold on your neck, Yuta smooths his hand down your back once more and threads his fingers together at the base of your spine.

Struggling to catch your breath, you force yourself to relax and let your head dip down, uncurling the fingers fisting the fabric of Yutas shirt and letting the blood naturally flow back to them.

As the silent seconds tick by, there’s something that comes into your consciousness that can’t be ignored. There’s already a good amount of heat built up between you and Yuta from the kisses you shared and the struggle that ensued.

But was he that much of a repressed man that just kissing your lips and neck had his cock standing at half attention? It seemed so, because when you made a face at it, he chuckled sheepishly.

“Sorry.” Yuta wasn’t sorry for what was happening. He didn’t feel remorse for any of this, especially not the thing that was causing you distress now. It was only natural for such a reaction to occur! You were squirming so much on his lap while he kissed you that it was like you were begging him to get hard.

Gently raking his nails up and down your back, Yuta stared hard at your lips. His gaze almost pierced right through you and he wasn’t subtle about wanting another kiss. Another slurry of apologies left Yuta’s lips as he once again grabbed the back of your head and forced you to kiss him. His words got mushed together, spoken against your lips as he tried to work his tongue into your mouth.

Whatever screams of protest you had didn’t matter in this moment, Yuta was a man on a mission and desperate to take what was his. He felt bad about pushing your boundaries and ruining the chance of growing an actual relationship any time soon, but those were things he was willing to sacrifice.

And after all, good boyfriends help their partners grow in uncomfortable situations.

Moaning in a high pitch when your crotch just barely grazed his, Yuta took advantage of the fact you were too busy trying to push him away to focus on your lower half. Grabbing you tightly at the hips, he dragged you forward and fully pushed you against the front of his pants.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He panted as he moved your bodies in tandem, getting bolder and bucking his hips like a sad teenager dry humping for the first time. This continued for a while and you were sure he was going to cum when he suddenly stopped and flopped his head back against the couch.

Fervently wiping off your lips, the urge to slap him came over you in a blinding rage, and you quickly swiped your hand down. Fully expecting to make contact with his face, you put all the strength you could into the motion only to be stopped by Yuta grabbing your wrist.

“Hitting isn’t very nice, (Y/N).” He sounded like a disappointed preschool teacher and when you raised your other hand to try and slap him he caught that one as well. Holding both your wrists tightly in his grasp, Yuta stared at your heaving chest as he thought about what to do.

“Let me go.” You said, trying to tug yourself free.

“Sshh, I’m thinking.” His eyes wouldn’t leave your chest and he licked his lips. “I think I know a better use for your hands.” Letting go of one of them, Yuta was quick to go to the button on his jeans and undo them.

Your fingers were touching his clothed cock before you had a chance to protest. The speed Yuta moved at was dizzying and you seemed to be about 10 seconds behind him, left to scramble and catch up on whatever he’d done.

“Just a little, please?” Yuta whined and gripped your fingers around his cock, digging into the fabric of his dark underwear and outlining the shape of his cock.

“Yuta…” Back were the tears, a light misting this time that blurred your vision. It was gross touching him, even as the scent of a minty body wash rolled off him. This was gross, the heat from his cock and the way the skin moved beneath your fingers all felt horribly off.

“Just be good for me, (Y/N), I know you can do that.” Giving your lips a quick peck, Yuta let out a shaky exhale. His hand was holding yours so tightly your hand pulsed, throbbing from lack of circulation.

Touching him through his underwear quickly became not enough for Yuta and he hurriedly pulled his cock out, shoving his underwear down his thighs a bit to make more room. Unbuttoning the large overshirt he had on, Yuta let out another exhale as the sweat evaporated off his body.

“Are you shy? Here, touch it like this.” Gingerly now he wrapped your hand around his shaft, squeezing with just enough pressure to make sure you were really holding it. You tried to avoid looking at it, staring at the tanktop Yuta had on underneath his other shirt.

Tilting your head up, he kissed you gently as he worked your hand up and down his cock, slowly loosening his hold the longer he went until he was able to let go and you were still stroking him.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. “So, so much.” You whimpered in response, keeping your eyes tightly closed to avoid looking at him. “I’ve followed you for so long now, it feels amazing to finally be here with you.”

“Followed?” You didn’t want to know, you didn’t want to know, you didn’t-

“Six months. For six long, agonizing months I watched you from the shadows. Making sure you were safe, following you home from work to make sure no one messed with you, going into your home when you weren’t there to make sure you didn’t have the stove on-”

“Stop.” Sniffling back another wave of tears, you shook your head. “I-I can’t, please-”

“You’re right, I’m killing the mood.” Chuckling softly, Yuta kissed at the corner of your eye. Putting his hand back on yours, he sped up the pace and bucked his hips up. “A-and I really don’t want to do that.”

Kissing you again lest he start rambling again, Yuta moaned freely into your mouth. He had dreamed of this moment and so many others, staying up late at night just fantasizing about you touching him and finally being in his arms.

To say he was pent up was an understatement. Ever since he saw you, Yuta vowed not to touch himself, wanting you to be the only one that gave him such pleasure. It was a painful wait, but every time he saw you he knew it was worth it - and it was. He was already nearing an orgasm and it hadn’t even been that long.

“Oh darling-” His face started to screw up and Yuta broke the kiss, putting his head on your shoulder and making your hand go faster. “God I love you, (Y/N)! I lo-love-” He was babbling now, unable to focus on any full sentence coming out of his mouth. “Say it- tell me.”

“Say what?” You asked, struggling to keep your breathing even as you felt him get closer to the edge.

“You love me. Tell me you- tell me you love me, even if it’s not true yet.” Yuta was so close it hurt, but he refused to cum unless you said those words.

“I-I-” The desire to not say it was strong, keeping you from really forming the words. It wasn’t true right now and it would never be true. You would never love Yuta for as long as you lived.

“Say it, say it please!” Yuta wailed, his other hand gripping your waist so hard you were afraid he was going to break something. “I love you so much, just say it back!”

“I love you! Yuta, I love you, okay?” His hold was really starting to hurt and as soon as you said it, he let go. “I love you, I love you.” You repeated over and over until his body locked up and he came with an almost sobbing moan.

“Oh god, darling, I love you.” Yuta wasn’t crying but he might as well have been. His hand stopped for a brief moment before continuing, coating the back of his hand and your fingers in his cum. He kept going until he was able to squeeze the last drop of cum out of him, swiping at the tip with his thumb until the sensation began to hurt.

It was too quiet now in the room without Yuta’s frantic breathing and mindless babbles. Taking deep, gasping breaths, he forced himself to calm down and let go of your hand, letting his softening cock fall down against him.

“Here.” In his pocket he had a handkerchief and Yuta wiped your hand clean, diligently going between the digits and getting every last pearly drop. Throwing it onto the coffee table, Yuta collapsed back onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

His face was impossibly blissed out, a dopey smile stretching his face and showing off his teeth. He couldn’t be happier in this moment, the weight of your body on his lap a constant reminder that this was real life, the reality that he had been dreaming of and striving for for so long.

The door he had entered from creaked open much faster than when he entered, and there were thundering footsteps descending the stairs quickly. Yuta immediately perked up, hugging you close to his chest as he turned over his shoulder to look at who came in.

“This is a surprise.” There was a tall, lanky man standing at the bottom of the steps, his white hair sticking up in all directions. You wondered how he could see with a blindfold on and Yuta seemed happy to see him.

“Gojo, hello!” Rushing to fix his pants, Yuta helped you off his lap and stood up.

“I see you’ve finally made yourself acquainted.” Gojo grinned, his head flicking towards you for a moment.

“Mhmm! We uh- we’re having a great time getting to know each other.” Yuta flushed, trying to not make it obvious that his pants had just been undone and that you’d just been jerking him off.

“Well I hate to break up a happy couple, but there’s a visitor here for you. I think you’re going to have another mission soon.”

“Really, so soon? I just-” Glancing at you, Yuta bit his tongue. “I’ll be back soon.” Grabbing his sword and the knife still stuck in the wall, Yuta gave you one more look before walking past Gojo and up the stairs. As soon as the door clicked closed, you shot up from the couch and walked around to Gojo.

“Please, you have to help me, get me out of here!” Clasping your hands together in front of you, you pleaded as hard as you could. “H-he’s absolutely crazy, please help me!” Unable to look Gojo in the eye, you could only assume he was looking back at you from the way his head moved.

“That’s not very nice, now is it?” He questioned, quirking a brow and crossing his arms. “Yuta loves you so much, you shouldn’t say those things about him.”

“Sir please, you don’t understand!” Shaking your head hard, you let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t belong here! He kidnapped me, don’t you understand?!” It felt like you were the only sane one left in the world. Gojo chuckled and sighed, placing a large hand on the top of your head and leaning forward.

“Actually, Yuta wasn’t the one that actually kidnapped you.” A soft ‘no’ escaped your lips and Gojo laughed again, drinking in the sinking feeling in your gut and the way it twisted your face in agony. “It was me.”

#tw: noncon #tw: yandere #jujutsu kaisen #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[arvandus]

Congratulations on the big 500 ^-^ I'm so happy for you! Could I get a fluffy #24 with Dabi, pretty please? 🥺👉👈

I’m finally getting to thissss! I’m so, so sorry for the delay. For some reason I struggled with this one for a while, then suddenly something clicked, and inspiration took over. I really enjoyed writing this, it felt very cathartic. It might feel a little heavy/emotional at first but trust me when I say that it ends with fluff.

#24: You're The Only Thing That Matters

Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Word count: 1825

Warnings: light angst(?), fluff

---------

You hadn’t meant for this to happen. Then again, no one ever does. It’s not like anyone ever plans for their apartment to get broken into, their personal items stolen...

Then again, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, not with a neighborhood like this. But it was the neighborhood you could afford. Now here you are, hanging out across the street at the local market, too afraid to return upstairs to your ransacked home. You don’t have a car to drive yourself to a motel to stay the night, you don’t trust nighttime public transportation, and you don’t have enough money for an Uber. But you have to go somewhere. So, you take your phone and called the first person that comes to mind...

Dabi.

You can’t help but laugh that his number is the first one you think to dial. From the surface it makes sense – you two have been seeing each other, so of course he should be someone you can trust enough reach out to. But this is Dabi. Even with your intimate relationship with each other, he is often distant and, more often than not, entirely unavailable. It doesn’t surprise you too much... he’s a villain, after all, and sometimes that villain life requires him to disappear for periods at a time.

Which is why you are honestly surprised when he picks up.

“What?” he says gruffly, like he doesn’t have your number saved in his phone; he knows it’s you on the other end.

You bite your lip before answering. “Um, hey, Dabi. It’s me.”

Already you’re struggling to keep your voice from quivering with unshed tears. If you let yourself cry now, you wouldn’t be able to stop, and this really isn’t the place for it. You watch as an old man pushes a cart past you at a snail’s pace, his gnarled fingers grabbing a bag of rice from the shelf.

Dabi must have heard the emotion in your tone though, because his next words come out slightly softer. “Hey, doll. What’s up? Ain’t it a little late for a phone call?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just...” you take a steady breath through your nose in an attempt to ease your jitters. “My place got robbed, and... I need a place to stay for tonight.”

You hear voices in the background, and Dabi growls at them to ‘shut the hell up.’

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Am I bothering you? I didn’t realize you were working...”

“It’s fine, doll.” Dabi replies. “Yeah, you can crash here.”

More arguing. But a moment later, you hear the click of a door being closed and the background noise disappears.

“I’m headin’ over.” Dabi’s voice comes through clearer than before now that there are no other voices coming through the receiver. His deep tone makes your pulse slow down to a manageable pace, and you take a deep sigh a relief. “Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m at the grocery store across the street.” You reply.

“Stay there.” His words are an order, his voice unusually firm. Is that... concern you hear?

“They close in fifteen minutes.” You say nervously.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

You hear the click and the call ends, and you really wish it didn’t. Then again, there was no telling where Dabi was, or what he was in the middle of when you had called.

The minutes tick by slowly as you wait, each minute dragging on longer than the last until you’re certain that you’re in hell, watching time slow to an endless crawl. The ten-minute mark comes and goes, and Dabi is nowhere to be found, and now you’re struggling to keep the panic down. What if he doesn’t come?

But just as the dreaded thought enters your mind, he’s there, appearing next to your shoulder like an apparition, a dark angel disguised in a black hoodie, his mouth covered. You nearly jump out of your skin when he puts an arm around you before you quickly realize it’s him, your protector.

Already you can feel the tears brimming in your lashes, but his words quickly interrupt the flow like a stopper.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispers in your ear. “None of that now.”

He guides you out of the store into the dark night and you stare across the street at your apartment complex. The building is tall and old, looming over you like a bad dream as visions of your ruined home flash in your mind.

“D’ya need to grab anything from your place?” he asks. You shake your head. You don’t want to go in there, even with Dabi present.

“Didja lock the door?” he asks again, and you shake your head again.

“Whoever it was broke it.” You reply. “Please, I just want to go...”

He stares at you for a moment, his blue half-lidded eyes reading the look on your face before he looks away.

“Well, c’mon then.” He says. He guides you to the subway. Once you get on the train, you sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder as the empty train car sways and bumps on the tracks. You can feel the fear begin to fade away with each passing of the flashing lights through the dirty windows, graffiti carved into their acrylic surface. You interlace your fingers in his, and for once he doesn’t fight it, doesn’t recoil his hand to the safety of his pockets.

The ride is silent and so is the walk to his hideout. He leads you in through the rickety door with the dented doorknob where a ragtag group of people lounge on dirty couches. Your body stiffens instantly, your hand tightening around his as if doing so would fill you with courage you didn’t have.

A man with white hair with the slightest tint of blue-grey glared at you with red eyes. “I thought we agreed on no outsiders?” his voice comes through with a growl, carried on a sneer past scarred lips.

“Shut up.” Dabi snaps at him as he leads you past the group to another door that leads to a hallway.

A couple doors down and he pulls you into what you can only assume is his room – after all, it’s your first time being here; Dabi had never let you visit him before.

“It’s not much, but it’s safe.” Dabi comments as he closes the door behind you.

The bed is messy, the mattress old. You don’t care though. The space smells of Dabi, and as soon as your brain registers that you’re no longer in danger, you buckle down onto his bed and begin to cry with your face in your hands as the aftermath of emotions overflows into your palms.

Dabi removes his hoodie and kneels before you. He watches you in silence, the glaze of his eyes never betraying the emotions tucked away in secrecy. He hates seeing you like this, hates watching you fall apart in front of him. It makes him feel useless. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes your hand from your face, holding your fingers in his warm palm. He can feel the wetness of your tears on them, and he fights the urge to increase his body temperature, to evaporate the evidence of your pain from his skin. Your eyes catch his, red and puffy, and before he can react you throw your arms around his neck and fall into his lap. He catches you – how could he not? – and holds you to him as you empty your emotions into his shoulder.

When the well of your tears has finally dried, you wipe your eyes with the heel of your hand and pull away from him slightly. Dabi can see the exhaustion falling over you in real time, your shoulders slumping and your hold on him loosening into a relaxed grip.

“I’m sorry, I... I just... it’s been a really bad day.” You say, your eyes downcast.

Dabi can’t help but give a dry chuckle as he helps you up to your feet. “Yeah, no shit.”

He sits on the bed and pulls you with him until you’re both lying down on his messy sheets, with you curled into his side.

“Thank you for coming to get me...” you whisper as you rest your cheek against his chest.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he teases, but his smile falters when your breath hitches and you don’t answer.

It cuts him deeper than he expects, but at the same time he’s not surprised... he hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend – is that even what he is? Is that what he’s been to you? It wasn’t like you two ever discussed it; you two just... were. He’s given you so little...

Dabi swallows before he continues, his voice quieter this time, quieter than he’s ever been with you before. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” The confession feels weird on his tongue, like a foreign language, but he pushes forward, determined to say what he should have told you sooner. His voice drops even lower to a barely audible whisper. “I’ll always come for you.”

Despite the hush of his words, they feel like a shout. The admission leaves him feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, and a part of him wishes he could take them back, simply because of what they mean. But they don’t come without their own reward - you relax at his words, your body molding against his as your arms tighten around him. It’s the first time he’s been so open with you and the nervousness in his veins gives way to a light euphoria at your acceptance. His arm tightens around you as if he’s afraid you’ll melt away, as if his touch is the only thing keeping you real, his perfect dream come to life. Within minutes, your breaths become deep and even, and Dabi realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on him, your body giving way to its exhaustion after all that had happened. He stares down at you for a long, quiet moment, watching you sleep on him.

Dabi had never put anyone else first before, not even you despite your closeness. But when he answered your call and heard the fear in your voice, it was as if the ground had been pulled out from under him, his entire world thrown into chaos. If anything had happened to you... If you’d gotten hurt in any way...

His grip on you tightens a little more and he brushes his lips against your hair. Maybe it’s the bravery he’s feeling at your acceptance of him. Or maybe it’s the fear of what could have been. But his next words come out in a hushed whisper, a secret confession meant more for himself than you.

“You’re the only thing that matters.”

And even though you’re supposed to be asleep, your soft words hum into his chest, burying themselves like sunflower seeds.

“I love you too.”

#Arv's 500 Followers Event #Dabi #dabi x reader #soft dabi #dabi x gn!reader

[scxrlettwxtches]

i’ll be here, always and forever. | lee minho 

genre: sick!fic, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, female!reader

warnings: description of migraines

prompt: i called you at 2am because i need you

description: no matter the situation, lee minho would never hesitate to drop everything to come to your aide, even if it was ass o’clock in the morning.

word count: ~2.7k

a/n: im not sure if this was what you wanted anon but i hope it suffices! >.< also, the descriptions of the migraines come from my own personal experience with them, so i hope they aren’t entirely inaccurate. i’ve been struggling with them for a long time now, so this fic was honestly a little therapeutic to write. hope everyone enjoys! love you all! <3

You never liked to bother people.

It was just your personality; asking people for help meant that you were taking up their time, taking up their time meant that you were annoying them, annoying them meant that you were dislikeable. So, to avoid this whole domino effect, you just never bothered people for anything at all.

That began to change when you starting dating Minho.

Lee Minho was an angel and a devil all rolled into one combination package. You couldn’t get one without the other, and to be honest, you didn’t want one without the other. You loved his softer side, his gentle care and affection, but you also adored his rather brash pranks and antics. Life would be boring if he wasn’t trying to annoy you in some way.

Minho was the first person to coax you out of your shell. He was the first person to tell you bluntly:

“You’re not bothering anyone by asking for help, Y/N. If anything, it makes people feel good about themselves when you come to them. It validates them.”

Slowly, you started to accept that as reality. You started to take off days when you weren’t feeling well, started to ask other people to share some of the burden when your asshole of a boss assigned you to the paperwork meant for at least three people because he knew you were a pushover. 

But sometimes, Minho’s brash words can push you further into slumps rather than get you out of them.

You hadn’t meant to be pushy. You didn’t mean to nag unnecessarily. You were just worried about him. There was so much pressure that he was shouldering, the weight of the new choreography, having to create it, teach it, and execute it himself. It was affecting his health, and you just wanted to alleviate his burden for a while.

You probably caught him at a bad time. You probably shouldn’t have visited the practice room to drop off some food. You probably said something that just ticked him off the wrong way, or used a tone of voice that wasn’t so sweet because you were truly frustrated by your boyfriend not taking care of himself. You weren’t sure what exactly set him off, but once you did, he lashed out at you in a way he’d never done before.

“God, can’t you see that I’m working?! I don’t need rest! I don’t need food! I need this to be perfect!” Minho snapped, whirling at you like an angry spirit. 

Your temper raged, and you retorted, “Minho, I’m just trying to take care of you! Why can’t you see that--”

“You’re such a fucking bother!”

The blood drained from your face as Minho pulled at his own hair in frustration, “W-what?” You asked softly, not quite believing what you were hearing. He wouldn’t say that, right?

“I said, you’re a bother,” Minho spat, his emotions getting the best of him, “You’re always asking me to spend time with you, always wanting me to coddle you. Can’t you do anything yourself for a change?”

His words burned, lashed at you, and wordlessly, you fled the room, tears rolling down your cheeks. You probably should’ve been more rational. Minho was already at high tensions the whole week; you could sense it whenever he came by your apartment, and his members had also messaged you about it. He most likely didn’t mean it.

But as you left the company building, your mind was like your own worst enemy, repeating his words in your head.

A bother. Do something by yourself for a change. 

You hadn’t spoken to Minho at all since that awful fight, and neither has Minho opted to contact you. You’d long stopped checking your phone for any missed texts or calls. You’d long stopped replying to the boys who were asking--no, begging--you to come over to the dorms. 

It felt like your relationship with him was on the verge of breaking, and you were shattering along with it, too.

.

Minho let out an annoyed groan when he heard his phone vibrate violently against his bedside time. What time was it? He glanced out the window, seeing nothing but pitch darkness and the minute glow of the stars that managed to shine through the city lights. His eyes darted to the digital clock on the window sill and he scoffed in disgust.

Great, someone was calling him at 2:14 am. 

He wanted to ignore it. Why does he have to answer a phone call at two in the fucking morning?

But there was something weird about the whole thing, and outside of his better judgement, he groaned, grabbing the phone and picking it up without even glancing at the caller ID, ready to give whoever was calling at that hour a piece of his mind.

“Who the fuck--”

“Minmin?” 

Minho felt his heart sink down to the floor at the sound of your voice, and the guilt flooded every inch of his being. 

“Y/N?” He asked, immediately alert as he sat upright in bed. He didn’t like the tone of you voice. Even through the speaker, he could tell immediately that something was wrong. And the fact that you were even willing to call him, meant that things must’ve been dire.

“I-I’m so sorry to bother you--” You croaked out, and Minho wanted to cry at how nervous you sounded. It was his fault. It was all his fault, “I-I just--I thought--never mind…”

“No, no, baby. Please,” Minho panicked like he never panicked before as he heard shuffling from the other side of the phone, sounding like you were about to hang up, “My angel, don’t hang up, please. I’m not angry. I’m not annoyed. Could you please talk to me, baby? Tell me what’s going on?”

His voice as gentle and soothing as he could make it, his only priority being to calm you down. Your breath hitched at his words, and he let out a silent sigh of relief as you didn’t end the call.

“My head feels like it’s going to s-split in half--I keep seeing spots in my vision, a-and I feel like throwing up,” you said shakily, letting out a whimper of pain as you spoke which sent Minho into another tizzy of panic. He was already well out of bed, pulling a sweater over his head while simultaneously trying to keep his phone pressed against his ear.

“I’m coming, baby, don’t worry, okay?” He cooed, continuing to calm you down as he waved off Chan’s concerned glance. Of course that man wasn’t sleeping yet.

“W-what?” Your voice broke in confusion as the reception crackled, the way it always did when Minho left the dorms and switched to cellular instead of wifi, “N-no, you don’t have to--I don’t even know why I-I called--”

“My angel,” Minho stopped in his tracks as he took a deep breath, “I’m coming over because I’m worried. Because I want to take care of you. Because I want to hold you, and I want to tell you in person how fucking sorry I am.”

You were completely silent, and for a moment, Minho feared that he had royally screwed up by bringing up such a clearly painful memory when you were already in pain. Then, a rustle of bedsheets sounded through the phone, and your soft, weak voice came through.

“Do you still have the key to the a-apartment or do I need to open the door for you?”

Minho felt the weight and worry in his chest loosen at your words, “You don’t have to do a single thing, baby,” he reassured you, skipping two steps at a time as he rushed down the stairs, too hurried to even stand waiting for the elevator.

He burst out of his apartment complex and immediately began sprinting towards your building, which was a ten minute walk away. He was always glad that you were close by, but in the moment, you were ten minutes too far. These were ten precious minutes that he was wasting when he could be already by your side.

“How bad is it, angel?” Minho asked as he ran down the street, haphazardly putting on his mask as he held his phone to his ear with the other hand.

You took a moment to respond, letting out another whimper of pain that caused Minho’s heart to twist, “R-really bad. Like a 9,” you croaked out, sounding immensely distressed.

Minho cursed under his breath and ran faster, “Alright, kitten. It’s going to be okay. Put me on speaker and put the phone under your pillow, okay? You shouldn’t be looking at any screens.” 

He heard the rustling of the bed sheets and the sounds began to muffle, “Keep me on the phone and make a noise if anything gets worse. I’ll be there as soon as I can angel. As soon as I can,” he promised, and he ran like his life depended on it.

.

Minho made the ten minute travel time into a record of five minutes, almost crashing into your door as he fumbled for his keys. The key to your place was on the chain right beside his, because he never wanted to break your trust and lose them accidentally. He unlocked the door and burst into your apartment, blinking to adjust to the darkness.

All of the lights were off, which was to be expected. You were always incredibly sensitive to it when your migraines hit, and Minho did his best to navigate through the hallway using the dim glow of his phone to guide him.

He knew he’d succeeded in making it to your bedroom when his ears caught muffled whimpers of pain. He hung up the phone and gently creaked open your door, “Baby?”

From the city lights outside your window, he could see a lumpy figure underneath your duvet covers, and his heart ached as he made his way towards you. You were still awake from what he could tell, and the lumpy ball squirmed and wiggled underneath the sheets as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Angel, I’m here,” he cooed as softly as possible, his hands tentatively reaching to rest along what was probably the curve of your waist. You only whined, muffled noises of agony coming through the covers, and Minho took it as a green light. You were like putty in his arms as he gently guided your body along with his, maneuvering you until you were safely curled up in his lap, your head resting against his chest.

“You really came,” you murmured, and Minho tried not to feel hurt by the disbelief that colored your voice. 

Instead, he swallowed his pride, because he knew he deserved the disbelief, “I came, darling. Everything’s going to be okay now,” he reassured you, his fingers buried in your soft hair as he hummed softly. 

You shifted your head, probably to nod at his words, but even that slight movement aggravated your headache, and a choked sob bubbled out of your throat. Minho immediately held you tighter, and one of his hands reached for yours, pressing down on the pressure point between your thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, angel, how could you let it get this bad?” He mumbled mostly to himself as you began to calm, the throbbing against your temple receding as Minho squeezed the pressure point. Vaguely, you wondered how he was able to remember that spot so easily, especially since you only recalled showing him once. 

“B-been having headaches for d-days,” you replied shakily, nestling into his chest. Minho immediately felt you shift closer and took the opportunity to hold you even closer, bundling you in the blankets as he propped himself up against the headboard, “Didn’t want to take s-so many painkillers...but it hurts, Min…”

Minho wanted nothing than to sock your migraines in the face, but doing that would mean hurting you. So, he could ultimately do nothing but hug the living daylights out of you, wishing that your pain would go away.

He tisked, massaging the pressure point soothingly as he kissed your hair, “Days? Why didn’t you tell me? You know you can barely get out of bed when you have migraines. Have you even been eating?” 

The worried questions tumbled out of Minho’s mouth as he fretted over you like a mother hen. He knew how debilitating these headaches were for you, especially on the worst days. Every movement you made would aggravate them, and there were even a couple times that Minho was on the verge of forcing you to go to the hospital. Just thinking about you being in such a dangerous state alone scared Minho more than he could stomach.

Before he could continuing worrying, your next words lashed at him like knives to the heart, “T-thought you wanted space. Don’t wanna bother you, Min...You’re s-so busy already. How could I burden you even more?”

If Minho was ever had to identify the most heartbreaking moment of his life, this would be way up there as a top contender. He never meant to do this. He never meant to make you feel like you weren’t worthy of his time. 

“Angel, I know this is a bad time,” he said, his voice raspy and low as he held you to him. You could feel the vibrations of his chest as he spoke, and you nestled into the safety he provided.

“I know this is a bad time, but I need to tell you. I’m so fucking sorry for that day,” Minho continued, holding you as if he was afraid you’d leave, that you’d walk out of his life, “I don’t have any excuses. I was frustrated with myself and I took it out on you.”

You’d known this. You’d known all of this, of course. But hearing these very words come out of his mouth made them more real, and the knot of unease and self-hatred that coiled around your heart began to loosen. 

“I know you were just looking out for me. I know you were just trying to care for me, a-and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am for you,” Minho spoke, every word laced with regret and guilt as he continued.

“You’re not a bother. You’re not at all. You’re the farthest away from a bother. You’re perfect. You’re so kind and gentle and loving and beautiful,” The poor man was rambling at this point, lost in his love for you as you gently shifted your hand to rest over his.

As always, it was your touch, your presence that grounded him back to reality, and he took a deep breath, brushing his lips against your temple, “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to go off on a tangent,” he said sheepishly. Fuck, he couldn’t even apologize correctly.

But you only smiled, rubbing his hand with your thumb as you murmured, “Silly, Minmin...I don’t blame you for anything. It’s okay. Thank you for apologizing.”

Minho let out a broken sigh of relief as he cradled you in his arms, kissing your hair, your cheeks,  your nose, your lips, anywhere he could.

“I love coddling you, you know?” He mumbled, kissing you again and again, “You’re my baby, my precious angel. You always take such good care of me, always making me remember my roots when I get caught up in my own work. I want to be that for you, too. I wanna hold you every night and make you happy.”

You giggled at his words, not daring to nod in case your headache got worse, but you very subtly pressed a light kiss to his jaw, “Love you…” you mumbled, “You already make me happy.”

Minho felt his heart soar your simple words, and they brought him a happiness he never thought he’d experience, or even want to experience. Taking note of your drooping eyes and the way your hand was relaxing in his, he stayed silent, only humming under his breath to help you sleep.

When he saw you had dozed off, he attempted to position you on the bed so he could do some house chores for you. The moment he shifted you, though, a cry left your lips and your fingers blindly gripped at his shirt, “N-no--”

“I’m here, angel. I’m here,” Minho immediately held you again, burying his face in your soft locks as he cradled you to his chest, “I’m here.”

You were still half asleep, mumbling fitfully as his fingers massaged your temple, “P-please stay,” you murmured, curling into his arms.

Minho felt his heart ease as you fell asleep, and under the starlight and the darkness of your bedroom, he murmured his response, sure and true.

“Always.”

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stayhavennet #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #lee minho scenarios #lee minho imagines #lee minho blurbs #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz blurbs #skz x reader #my fics

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Pinky Promise

Summary: Fred and Y/N have been rivals for a while, but no matter if it was pranks, or quidditch or something else, they always had their limits to not hurt the other. In fact, for the past few months Y/N and Fred have been growing closer, and even developing feelings for each other, but everything changes when one of Fred's pranks go to far, and he needs to find a way to fix it to save their relationship.

Warnings: Swearing, Fred being kind of a dick, Reader getting angry, confrontation, some angst, kind of a lot of angst actually, ends in major fluff though, also humor because I may not not how to spell but I’m hilarious.

Word count: 2.7K

A/N: comin at cha with ANOTHER ENEMIES TO LOVERS FRED WEALSEY FIC??? Why am I so uncreative? Idk, anyways I hope you enjoy!

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You were beyond furious. You didn’t think there was a strong enough word to describe how angry you were, and you were pretty sure if you were any angrier steam would be coming out of your ears. And the reason for all this anger you may ask?

Fred Fucking Weasley

You stormed through the hallway, heading straight to the dining hall. It was late, and you barely anybody would be in there, but you knew he would be. 

You stopped in the doorway, scanning over the tables until your eyes landed on a familiar mop of red hair. Locking your eyes on your target, you stomped over, clutching your bag tightly in your right hand.

“Oh shit- what did you do this time?” You heard Lee whisper to Fred, as you got closer, but you paid him no mind, eyes locking with Fred’s, who had that same stupid smirk that he always did. It made your blood boil.

“Good evening love, how’s your night going?” Fred asked nonchalantly, as if you were friends and not life long enemies.

“I have to say, it was going quite well, until I found this” You seethed, slamming your bag onto the table in front of him. “Say, does this bag look familiar to you?”

“Nope, can’t say it does” Fred shrugged, but the glimmer in his eye said differently.

“Really? Why don’t you take a closer look” You insisted, grabbing the bag off the table, flipping open the top, and flipping it upside-down, causing an eruption of water to fall from the mouth of the bag.

The water continued for what felt like forever, pieces of paper and pens falling out with it as the contents emptied out onto the floor, soaking yours and Fred’s shoes, but neither of you made a move.

After the water had finally stopped, you threw the bag into his lap, causing him to look down at it, a thoughtful hand on his chin.

“You know, now that I’m looking more closely at it, it does look a bit familiar” He said simply, and judging by the nervous looks on George, and Lee’s face when they saw you, you for sure had steam coming out of your ears now, but you kept your composure.

“Oh, well that’s good. You see, I’m trying to solve a bit of a mystery of who could have done this. Would you have any ideas?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of you.

By now, most of the cafeteria had cleared out. They have seen you and Fred get into heated arguments before. But this was different.

This was going to be fatal.

“No clue, but I have to say whoever thought of it is a bloody genius” He complimented, giving you a grin.

“Genius you say? So you think, flooding my one bag, and ruining all my homework, as well as my ten page essay that I’ve been working on all month, that’s due tomorrow... is Genius?” You asked, the calmness in your voice adding a coldness to the room that shot straight to everyone's bones.

And judging by the now terrified face Fred wore, he was feeling the effects of your voice as well.

“Oh, I see there's been a mix up, I’m actually George-”

“You are fucking not! Don't get me caught up in this” George interrupted, standing along with Lee to flee the scene 

“So sorry about him, Y/N, he can’t be helped. Try not to go to hard on him-” Lee started, but a quick glance his way shut him up instantly “Actually on second thought, do what you see fit, see ya Fred”

With that, George and Lee practically sprinted out of the dining hall, leaving you standing over Fred, who suddenly felt very small.

“I swear, I had no idea your essay was in there, if I had known I wouldn’t have-” Fred started apologizing, but was quickly cut off when your hand slammed down on the table beside you.

“You see Fred” You said, taking a seat on the bench next to him. “I think you did know. We’re in the same class, you’ve seen me working my ass off trying to get this essay done, and you’ve even asked for my notes, which I refused because of this kind of shit you pull” 

Fred swallowed thickly, his heart beating out of his chest at your anger. He had seen you angry before, and he’s been cross with you a few times as well, but those died down fairly quickly, and most of the time there weren't to many hard feelings. And you were right, he had seen you working on that essay, both in class, and at two in the morning in the library.

“Now” You continued “We’ve had out little quarrels in the past, you prank me, I prank you, you hit me with a quaffle at quidditch, I hit one back at you, nothing too serious. But this” She paused, picking a sopping wet pile of papers off the floor, and plopping it in front of him “Is really really fucking low. Did you know, I was already failing this class?”

The question put Fred on the spot, and he felt his heart sink to his stomach. He had always known you to be extremely smart and quick minded, so to hear you weren't doing so well in that class came as a surprise.

“Yeah, I’m failing because, fun fact, I’m fucking exhausted. I’m staying up till three in the morning every night, trying to get caught up in classes. I’m writing back and forward to my family constantly because they’re going through financial problems again, Umbridge is constantly writing me up for no reason, and on top of all of that, I still need to be worried about this” 

Your voice was beginning to shake a bit, and you both knew you were about to cry, but you were determined to keep the tears in until you were done. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“So... Fred, consider this little rival, or fight, or whatever the fuck this is, over. I’m done, you win, just please, for the love of fuck, leave me alone” 

With that, you stood up and left the dining hall, quickly wiping the stay tear that snuck out on your way. All the while, Fred sat in shocked silence. He had always seen your little back and forwards as friendly competition, and had even thought they were a bit flirty at times. In fact, you two had been getting a bit closer these last few months, and had even started hanging out as friends. But now, he had royally fucked that up, and he needed to fix it.

The next day, you were exhausted. You had spent a lot of the night crying, which you hated but all the pent up emotions just came flooding out. Yes, you were absolutely pissed at Fred, but most of all, you were hurt. In the last few months, you’re arguments had died down a bit, and you found yourselves hanging out from time to time, always accidentally, but you enjoyed his company none the less.

You had even begun to like him a bit, maybe even more than a friend. He was nice, and charming, and wicked funny, and always tried to make you smile, but now, after seeing how careless, and almost mean he had been, you knew you needed to shove those feelings down. So you did. 

Your first class was potions, which of course you had with Fred. He sat behind you, and for a while, he made the class bearable, passing notes back and forward. But now you were absolutely dreading it.

Fred was sat in his usual seat, waiting for you to walk in. He had come in early, hoping to get the chance to talk to you, but when you walked in just as class began, he knew he would need to try a different approach.

Not even five minutes into the class, you felt a piece of paper land beside your elbow on your desk. You looked down, finding a folded up piece of paper, which you immediately knew was Fred's.

You could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head, but instead of turning around, you simply flicked the paper off your desk, returning your gaze to the chalkboard. A few minutes later, another piece of paper, this time on top of your notebook. Again, you flicked it off. 

Finally, five pieces of paper later, you smacked your quill down and picked up the newest piece of paper from your desk, unfolding it and looking it over, Fred watching you closely as you did

Can we please talk? I’m sorry

You finally turned around to meet the boys gaze, his eyes instantly lighting up at the change, but his spirits quickly fell when he saw your face, not angry, or frustrated, but sad.

You had had enough, facing the boy, you placed the paper back onto his own desk right as the professor dismissed the class, quickly slipping out of the room before Fred could follow you.

You avoided him like the plague the rest of the day. You didn’t have many other classes with him, and the ones you did share you made sure to find an empty seat far away from him, you even skipped lunch, choosing instead to read in your next class. 

You even skipped the class where your essay was due, not wanting to show up and hand over nothing, you decided to spend the rest of the day alone, and try to redo your assignment, even if you now only had a day to do it.

Fred only saw you again after class by the forbidden forest. He had found you pretty easily, you weren’t in any of your usual spots, so he knew this would be the next best spot to check. As he approached you, he found you had changed out of your uniform and were now in some joggers and a sweatshirt, sitting with your back against a rock as you scribbled in the notebook in front of you.

You chewed your lip as you tried to rewrite your essay, looking to your textbook and back every few second, before messing up on a word. Frustrated, you scribbled out the paragraph you had been working on and threw your notebook and quill to the side, resting your elbows on your knees as you held your head in your hands.

You quickly snapped out of it though when someone behind you cleared their throat, getting your attention and making you jump out of your skin. Panic surged through you, expecting a teacher, or worse, Umbridge, but the fear was soon replaced by irritation when you made eye contact with none other than the very red head you had spent all day trying to avoid.

“What do you want Fred?” You asked, turning back to face the forbidden forest, away from him. 

He didn’t answer, instead you were met with the sound of grass shuffling beneath his feet as he got closer, taking a seat before holding something out to you, causing you to look over at him.

It was your bag from yesterday, but now completely fixed and dry. It looked like brand new. 

You took the bag from him and looked it over, going over the seams and the straps before finally opening it, finding your notebooks, pens, and homework assignments all neatly tucked inside.

“How did you- When did-” you rambled trying to find the words and you shuffled through your belongings, finding them all intact and dry before finally turning to look at him “Why did you do this for me?”

Fred wasn’t expecting that question, but he still answered, looking down at the grass.

“I felt really bad after yesterday, and not just because of that stuff you... anyway, I know I went too far, and I shouldn't have done it in the first place, but I wanted to have a reason to talk to you I guess, and I did it in the worst way possible, and I wanted to make it up to you. I’m sorry”

You looked at him, before turning back to the bag, noticing there was something missing, but before you could say anything Fred continued.

“I was also able to save your essay, it took a while but it was all there. I was going to give it to you in class, but you didn’t show up so I turned it in for you and said you were sick. I got to read some of it by the way, its really good and I would be surprised if you-”

Fred was cut off by you moving your bag to the side and turning to face him, wrapping your arms around him to pull him into a hug. 

Fred was too shocked to move for a second, but quickly found himself returning the embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you closer. You sat like that for a minute, your face buried in his neck as a thousand emotions flooded over you. Finally, you pulled away, looking him in the eye.

“I’m not saying I’m not entirely grateful” you started “But you could have just come and talked to me, why did you feel you needed to do that to talk to me?”

At this, Fred’s face began to heat up a bit and he looked back down, fiddling with the grass. He was hoping to fix your friendship and move on, maybe one day growing to be something more, but now he was faced with the choice to tell you his feelings, or lie, and he didn’t want to deny it anymore.

“We’ve always had our little competitions and stuff, ever since we were kids, and for a while we really hated each other. But then, these last few months I got to know you a lot more, and I always knew you were funny, but you’ve got a wicked sense of humor, and you’re super smart, and are always helping people, and you’re always kind to everyone you meet, and I thought I might have had a crush or something. And I didn’t really know how to interact with you in a not competition way, and I didn’t want to freak you out, but after the bag, seeing how it hurt you, it broke me. And I realized that I liked you a lot more than I thought I did”

Fred looked up at you, waiting for your reaction. Were you angry, upset, happy? Your face wasn’t giving him any signs, but then, a small smile crept to your lips, and despite how hard you tried to fight it.

You laughed.

“I’m sorry” You started, trying to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest “I’m not laughing at you, I’m not, it’s just-” Another laugh. “God were just a bunch of idiots aren't we?”

Fred was looking at you like you’d gone crazy

“What do you mean?”

“I like you too dumb ass” You confessed.

“You... oh... Oh!” Fred exclaimed, finally putting the pieces together. “Wow, I really fucked up didn’t I”

“Oh for sure” you nodded, causing Fred to let out a groan, shaking his head before looking back to you, a smile on his face.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, closing the rest of the space between you and pressing your lips to his. Fred returned the action, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in closer, deepening the kiss.

After a few seconds, you both pulled away, each with goofy smiles on your faces.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Fred asked.

“Only if you promise to never do it again” you said

“Deal” Fred answered quickly, holding out his pinky to you, which you wrapped your own pinky around, shaking on the agreement.

“Wow a pinky promise, that's some hard core shit” You joked in a serious tone.

“Hey, if it means I get to spend more time with you, I’d pinky promise to anything” Fred replied, to which you gave him a feigned shocked expression.

“Anything?! Aww, you like me like me” you teased, laughing as Fred playfully pushed your shoulder.

“Shut up you like me like me too” Fred argued

“That is true” you nodded, before smiling and grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss, smiling as he pulled you even closer.

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

A/N: Heeey, so I was hit with the biggest surge of motivation today and I literally got two weeks of homework done, deep clean my room, and wrote this, so if I go dark for a few months its probably because I’ve used my adrenaline budget for the year lol.

But seriously, I know this fic gets a bit... deep ig? Idk, I’ve been going through it recently and I wanted some angst that would actually reflect how I would react in that situation if you know what I mean? Like I see a long of angsts where the love interest does something really mean, but a simple apology solves everything and yeah. No hate if that’s your writing style, its just not my thing, and I wanted to express my emotions through here, because nobody directly fucked up an entire month of my work but it certainly feels that way sometimes.

Anyways, rant over, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave any feedback or recommendations you may have.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley has me SOFT HOLY SHIT #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley request #fred weasley enemies to lovers

[marvel-sluts]

Hey bestie! I was wondering if you could write a fem!reader x mob boss!loki where she lives in a shitty part of town so she makes fake id/marriage license that shes the bosses wife to keep creepy guys away, and it doesn't even matter because loki'll never find out...right?

So then shes at the bar trying to get these guys to leave her alone but then loki shows up and plays along? Thanks!😘

fake ID's and creepy men

pairing: mob boss!loki x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, creepy guys.

summary: you and your friend comes up with the idea to get fake ID's to be the mob bosses wife to get guys to leave you alone, somehow this ends up getting you a date with the mob boss himself.

a/n: I feel like I always say this but I'm sorry for being so late! I'm honestly behind on life at the minute. thanks for requesting though, I always appreciate it. enjoy! <3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"I'm so fucking fed up of men." your friend, Grace said as she entered your apartment.

"I can't believe you said that I was married to the mob boss." you laughed, pulling off your shoes.

"it worked didn't it? he fucked right off." she said, plopping herself down on your sofa. "you know, we should get fake ID's."

"why? we are already legal." you said, sitting down next to her.

"I know that, I mean fake ID's saying that you actually are Loki's wife. that way the men will leave both of us alone." Grace said, swinging her legs over yours

"why me though? why can't you get one?" you asked.

"because you look more the part, also I have a tenancy to get very drunk and leave with some guy. that wouldn't be very believable." she said, shrugging.

"true, okay. let's do it." you said, turning on the TV and choosing a movie.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"hey baby, let me buy you a drink." some creepy guy said, sliding into the seat next to you.

you groaned internally, making a mental note to give Grace hell for being late.

"no thank you." you said, taking another sip of your drink.

"come on beautiful, just one drink." one of his mates said from the other side of you. you hadn't even realised he was there.

"sorry, I have a husband." you said, beginning to freak out as three more guys from the same group came up to your table.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind." the first guy said, placing his hand on your lower back, making you tense up.

"really? do you know who my husband is?" you snapped, hoping that you had remembered your fake ID.

"whoever he is, I doubt he will mind us having a little fun." one of the other guys said.

"he would definitely mind, my husband is Loki Laufeyson." you said, feigning confidence.

you watched as the colour drained from their faces, there isn't a person in this town who doesn't know that name.

"I doubt it, prove it baby. if you can't prove it then we get to buy you a drink." one of the braver men said.

you pulled out your fake ID and marriage certificate and handed it to one of the closets guys.

"there, now will you please leave me alone." you said, reaching for the documents back.

"I doubt that's real baby, come on let me buy you a drink." one of them said, getting far too close for comfort.

"excuse me? why are you bothering my wife?" a voice came from behind the group. the men scattered quickly, all of them murmering apologies. you turned in your seat to see the mob boss, Loki.

"hello darling, we're those men giving you trouble?" Loki asked, taking the seat next to you and swinging an arm around your shoulder casually. "have they gone?" he whispered.

you looked behind you before answering. "yeah." you stuttered. "sorry for lying about who I was, I just thought that you'd never find out a-and me and my friends thought that it was a good idea to get creepy men to leave us alone." you said quickly, voice shaking.

"it's fine, honestly. I understand why you did it and I'm sure your not the only one with a fake ID to be my wife." he responded with a chuckle.

"oh o-okay." you stuttered, very aware of his arm that was still wrapped around your shoulders.

"are you by yourself or meeting with someone?" he asked, looking down at you with a smile.

"my friend is supposed to be meeting me here, but she's running late. she said she's about ten minutes away." you murmured, raising your glass to your lips.

"well I can't have my wonderful wife sitting by herself. how about I keep you company until your friend comes." he offered.

"only if you want to." you said, shocked that the feared mafia boss was offering to do something so sweet.

"don't look so shocked darling, I may be one of the most feared men in this city but it doesn't mean that I don't have a heart." he chuckled, gazing at you with his piercing blue eyes.

"it's not that, I just thought that you would be busy or something." you said feebly.

"don't worry about it darling, although I do have one question. do guys bother you like that often?" he asked curiously.

"yeah, a fair amount. that's why I decided to get a fake ID, it was my friends idea actually." you said. "now it's my turn to ask a question, why did you save me from those men? there must be hundreds of women in this bar that need someone to do that for them. do you do it for everyone?"

"I don't do it for everyone, I just thought that a pretty woman like yourself is far too good for scum like that. to be perfectly honest I had been working up the courage to talk to you for a while, when I saw those men bothering you I thought it would be a good excuse to talk to you. that and I didn't want their filthy hands all over you." he said, looking down slightly.

"I'm assuming you overheard me saying I was your wife then." you said, taking another sip of your drink.

"yeah, I thought-"

"y/n! sorry I'm late, my boss kept me late. he's such a dick." Grace said, sliding into the seat on the other side of you. "who's this- oh"

"Grace this is Loki, Loki this is Grace." you said, giggling slightly at her shocked face.

"Loki? as in the loki?" Grace asked, grabbing your drink and taking a sip out of it.

"hey! get your own drink and yes, the Loki." you said, grabbing the glass from her and finishing it.

"I should probably be going, it was nice meeting you darling." he said, standing up and slipping a piece of paper into the pocket of your jacket. he winked at you before turning away and heading towards a table of men in suits, obviously waiting for him.

"how the hell did you get talking to him?" Grace asked, leaning forwards and placing her elbows on the table.

"I dunno, it just sort of happened." you said, smiling down at the card you had fished out of your pocket. here's my phone number darling, maybe we can get coffee some time? it read. you tucked the card safely back into your pocket before turning back to Grace, smiling at her as she wiggled her eyebrows at your lovesick face.

"oh shut up you." you said, hitting her arm lightly.

"I didn't say anything!" she protested.

#marvel #the avengers #loki x reader #mob boss!loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki (marvel) #loki x oc #loki #loki odinson #mcu loki #loki friggason #loki x reader fluff #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x reader smut #loki x y/n #loki fandom #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x you #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x reader fluff #tom hiddleston x you

[writethelifeyouwant]

Red

Summary: Y/N has been having an infuriating dry spell in the love department lately, thanks to lockdown, and her roommate Jensen is getting fed up with her attitude. So, he lets her in on a little secret…

Pairing: Danneel x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, lockdown was hard on singletons but great for phone sex operators Word Count: 4.5k Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Sex Hotline AU | @spnkinkbingo - Tribbing

A/N: Requested by @danneelsmain - hope this lived up to your expectations babe! I haven't written Danneel before but I really enjoyed writing this ❤️

“Yes... yes... yesyesyes–”

“Hey, Y/N!” Bang, bang, bang! “Hurry up in there will ya? I’m dyin’ here,” Jensen jiggled the doorknob to no avail, and Y/N was incredibly thankful she’d remembered to lock it this time.

I’m dying here, Y/N thought to herself, pulling the shower head from between her legs with a frustrated huff, the water swirling down the drain carrying the fading vestiges of her almost-orgasm with it. She had been so close. Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Just a minute!” she shouted, frustration tipping over into anger. The knob on the faucet was twisted to the ‘off’ position with unnecessary violence, and the shower curtain was attached at one less ring than it had been half an hour ago when it was yanked open to settle against the back wall of the tub.

Bang! Ban–

“Seriously, Jensen?!” Y/N barely had the towel secured around herself before she threw open the door, hastily ducking to avoid Jensen’s knock-in-progress.

“Thank fuck.” Jensen danced around Y/N and shoved the door shut, sending Y/N slipping across the tiles on her still-wet feet and locking her on the other side. The clearly audible hiss of Jensen relieving himself leaked through the door and Y/N growled in frustration, aiming a kick at the door before stomping down the hallway to her room.

He couldn’t have waited ten more seconds…

It had been bad enough that lockdown got them all stuck at home with no possibility of one night stands, or follow-up booty calls to keep her sex drive in check, but now Y/N was having an even bigger problem. She hadn’t been able to get herself over the finish line for at least two weeks, and she had no earthly idea as to why. Y/N was beginning to think that regular orgasms were part of the reason that she was usually nice to be around, because right now she felt like she was one bad joke away from stabbing somebody.

And that someone was likely to be Jensen.

Tucked up into the corner of the couch was Y/N’s standard position these days. She wasn’t sure what was playing on the TV, something as mindless as she felt right now.

“Budge up.” Jensen hit her feet and flopped back gracelessly on top of them without giving her the chance to move them.

“Ow, asshole!” A pillow whipped through the air and collided squarely with the side of Jensen’s face.

“What is your problem lately?”

“You, clearly,” Y/N snapped, pulling her knees into her chest defensively. Jensen raised a single eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. “No, it’s not you,” Y/N admitted, letting some of her aggression seep out of her frame with her words. “Sorry.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

There was a stiff silence between them, Jensen waiting for Y/N to break and answer his question and Y/N knowing that she didn’t want to talk about this with Jensen but not seeing a way out of the conversation. Jensen had an irritating habit of getting her to open up about things she never planned on telling people – like the fact that she was gay. And now he was about to hear far more about her sex life than she ever wanted to share with someone of the male species.

“I’m, um,” her cheeks were on fire as she glanced up to see Jensen looking back at her with concerned curiosity. “I’m… having a problem,” she finished lamely.

“Okay…”

“I can’t… Do you ever–” Y/N choked on the words every time they tried to bubble through. “So… um, it’s– it’s been a while.” She saw comprehension flash over Jensen’s freckled face a moment later.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You know PornHub has a whole section for lesbian shit, right?” Another pillow hits him in the face. “Okay, okay, ow,” Jensen rubs his jaw in exaggeration. “But seriously, it’s been a while for everyone. You just gotta take business into your own hands.”

“You don’t think I’ve been doing that?” Y/N hissed, unconsciously checking around them as if someone else was in their apartment who might overhear.

“Well then what’s the problem?”

“I haven’t like,” Y/N made a variety of nonsequitous hand motions that had no bearing on the word ‘orgasm’ but Jensen seemed to get the message.

“How long?” he cringed.

“Like, almost three weeks? And it’s not like I haven’t been trying like, everything, I just… can’t,” she shrugged helplessly. “Has this kind of thing ever happened to you? Is there something like, physically wrong with me?”

“No, no, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you,” Jensen rushed to reassure her, patting her leg awkwardly. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”

“So it’s happened to you too?” Hope shone from Y/N’s face that maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life empty of sexual pleasure.

“Well… no, not exactly.” Y/N’s shoulders drooped, hopes slashed.

“How are you staying so sane?” Y/N accused. “You used to be with a different girl every few days before all of this.”

“Hey! I was not,” Jensen was mock offended but Y/N could tell he was also a little proud. “And I’ve, uh… I’ve got my sources,” his eyes twinkled mischievously as he answered her question.

“Jensen Ross Ackles, have you been sneaking out behind my back!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, “nothing like that.” Jensen pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the screen as Y/N watched.

“Jen, if you’re trying to show me porn, I’m good. Don’t need to see what you get off to,” Y/N shuddered at the thought. A text beeped on her phone a second later, Jensen’s name popping up on the screen.

“That’s my source,” he explains and she opens the message to see a 1-800 number, next to the word Red.

“Red?”

“Red.” Jensen confirmed with a wicked grin, nodding sagely.

Y/N could not believe she was about to do this. She looked down at the number on her phone screen, ready to dial as soon as she pressed the little green button. Jensen’s assurances echoed in her head. Best phone sex I’ve ever had… she actually gets off with you, she’s not just faking it… sounds so hot, and her body is killer in her profile pic. Admittedly, the picture he’d shown her had been really fucking sexy. A slender girl in small red panties and unfairly pretty breasts cradled in a satin bra covered in little hearts, dark red hair pinned up around her face in a vintage style.

Before she could talk herself out of it again, Y/N pressed dial and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before connecting to an automated menu, and Y/N was secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to ask an operator if she could speak to ‘Red’.

Thank you for calling the Sugar Lips Hotline. Please enter your card details to continue.

Jensen had warned her about this part, so she had her card sitting out of her wallet on the desk in front of her.

If you know who you are trying to reach, please press one. If you would like to be assigned a random operator, please press two.

Y/N shakily pressed the number one, and then put the phone on speaker while she was at it.

If you would like to speak with Candy, press one, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Kitty, press two, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Lance…

Y/N wondered if she would still have the confidence to go through with this by the time the robotic voice mentioned ‘Red’.

If you would like to speak with Red, press thirteen, followed by the pound key.

The moment of truth. Y/N entered the number 13 and then pressed the pound key. The line began to ring again.

“Hi there,” a temptingly soft voice slipped through the receiver of the phone sitting on the desk in front of her.

“Hi-i,” Y/N’s voice was jarring in comparison, breaking on the first word she uttered.

“Oh, so I’ve got a pretty little girl on the line today, huh?” Y/N didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t, hands frozen in a death grip on the sleeves of her too big sweatshirt. “What’s your name, baby?”

“Y/N,” she whispered back, suddenly scared that Jensen would be able to hear every word being said in her room. Quickly digging into her pockets she pulled out her headphones and plugged them into her cell. Why hadn’t she done that earlier?

“That’s such a pretty name, baby,” the woman cooed, and now her voice was right against Y/N’s ears; it felt like she was in the room, whispering against her skin. “I’m Red.”

“That’s what I should call you?” Y/N managed to keep the tremor out of her words this time.

“Unless you want to call me something else? I can be whoever you want me to be baby girl. Mommy, ma’am, mistress…” Y/N’s heart thundered against her ribs. She realised that she had no idea what she wanted from this – she just knew she was desperate. “Or maybe you want to be in charge? I could be your baby, your good little girl.” Y/N wished she could see Red right now, watch what she looked like as she purred all these promises down the line, teasing and tempting.

“Is,” Y/N gulped, “is there anyone you want me to be?”

“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, and Y/N could imagine her shaking her head, red curls flying by her cheeks. “This is all about you Y/N. I’m here to make you feel good.”

Y/N felt a lick of heat curl in the base of her stomach, twisting itself around her intestines.

“Yeah, I could use that,” she laughed nervously, figuring she should be honest if she wanted this to work out well. And she really needed it to.

“Oh, have you been feeling a little pent up baby?” Red’s voice echoed in Y/N’s ears. The small vibrations coming out of her earbuds were enough to start sending a pulsing sensation down the side of her neck, worming its way under her skin and into her veins. Christ, it had been too long.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I betcha we can fix that. Are you somewhere comfortable sweetie?”

“I could get on the bed?” Y/N offered, wondering why she hadn’t started there in the first place, rather than at her desk.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Red purred seductively. “Why don’t you stretch out on the bed, get yourself nice and cozy. Maybe prop a pillow up next to you and think about me snuggling you in real close. Wish I could be there to put my hands all over your body.”

Y/N was thankful she was already sitting on her bed by the time Red finished painting her little scene because if she’d been walking, she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out.

“Fuck, it’s been so long since I felt another girl’s hands on me.” She tried not to be embarrassed at how whimpery her voice had gone. If this went well it was about to get a whole lot worse anyways.

“I want to touch every inch of you,” Red breathed heavily. “Run my fingers through your hair, over your neck, down your back. Would I find a bra there to unhook, baby?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, arching her shoulders and feeling the band scratch taught around her ribs, pushing her breast up towards her chin.

“Why don’t you take that off for me?”

“Okay,” Y/N felt her voice shake as much as her hands as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, breathing deeply when the pressure of the garment disappeared.

“Bet that felt good, didn’t it baby?” Red laughed knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, loosening up a little at the acknowledgement of a shared experience, something all girls could relate to. She pulled her arms through the straps beneath her sweatshirt and shimmying the discarded bra out the bottom before pushing her arms back through her sleeves. The peaks of her nipples tightened as they caught on the pills of fleece that now sat against her chest.

“What else are you wearing?”

Suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t thought to put on anything sexy in preparation for this call, Y/N didn’t manage more than an “um…” before Red laughed, a warm sound that melted into her like chocolate against your tongue.

“Why don’t I tell you what I’m wearing?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded before she remembered that Red couldn’t see her. “Bet it’s something really sexy,” she attempted to flirt, cringing at how awkward she sounded.

“Well that depends,” Red mused. “Do you like lace?”

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. She loved seeing girls in lace lingerie; the way the delicate weave of the pattern offered small tastes of the skin it covered, the way you could feel someone’s warmth seeping through such a thin fabric so easily, the way it felt to have someone touch you or suck you through such a meagre sheet of modesty…

“What about stockings?” Red voice broke through Y/N’s train of thought, pulling her back to the vaguely out of body experience she was having.

“Love them,” Y/N answered quietly, trying to pitch her voice the way Red was, low and alluring.

“Well, that’s a shame,” she sighed dramatically. “Because I’m not wearing anything at all right now, sorry to disappoint.” Y/N couldn’t see her but she would bet anything Red was wearing a big pout right now. She wondered what her lips looked like. In her head she pictured soft and pillowy.

“You are such a tease,” Y/N laughed, hoping to disguise the pang of arousal that had shot through her a moment before.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you baby?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Y/N found herself admitting unconsciously.

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna get naked too baby girl?”

A throb of desire fluttered between Y/N’s legs, her pussy clenching, and when she squirmed back into her pillow a little she felt the lace fabric of her own panties sliding a little more between her thighs. Her arousal had started to soak out of her and into the material.

“You want me naked?” Y/N’s words scratched their way out of her throat, trying to pull her confidence along with them.

“Oh god, please baby,” Red moaned loudly, but it didn’t sound fake. It was like Jensen had told her, it sounded like she was really enjoying this, and like she was actually getting off on what was happening between them right now. “Want to feel your skin against mine.”

“I want that too, baby,” Y/N’s hasty breaths shook her words. She stripped out of her underwear and shoved her phone and headphones down the front of her sweatshirt so she could shimmy it over her head without disconnecting the earbuds. She didn’t want to miss anything.

“God, if I was there I would kiss all over you. Bet you taste amazing,” Red sighed, and Y/N could hear something shifting over the phone, like fabric moving around.

“Are you on your bed too?” Y/N asked.

“Yep, all spread out for you baby girl.”

“Are you touching yourself?” Y/N’s confidence was starting to build as she heard how much Red sounded like she’s into this, and she couldn’t deny she was turned on too. She felt wetter than she’d been in weeks, and when her fingers drifted down over her stomach its muscles twitched in anticipation of where she was about to touch.

“Where do you want me to touch?” Y/N let her eyes slide closed, and she could imagine Red batting her lashes as she asked - where do you want me to touch? - She pictured the girl she’d seen in the photo poised over her, legs straddling Y/N’s hips as Red ran her hands over her own body, fingers trailing over her throat, fondling her breasts, twisting around the pink flesh at the tips of each, lingering on the soft of her stomach before dipping lower.

“I want you to touch between your legs and tell me how wet you are,” Y/N said between deep breaths, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m already so wet for you, baby,” Red gasped, and Y/N hoped it was a reaction to her fingers slipping inside her pussy.

“If you were here with me, what would you do right now?”

“I’d make you watch me fuck myself on my fingers.” Holy shit, Y/N couldn’t help the moan that bled through her lips, and she heard Red chuckle. “Yeah, you like the sound of that baby?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N whimpered, her own fingers finally making their way between her legs and sliding easily through the slick she found there.

“I’d straddle myself right over your face, so you could see my fingers fucking my pussy, feel me dripping on you.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“And then, when my fingers are nice and soaked, you’re gonna suck them clean like a good little girl, aren’t you sweetheart?” Red’s monologue was absolutely wrecking Y/N, she wanted everything the woman on the end of the line was describing so badly. “Want you to do it to yourself, since I can’t be there to do it for you. Can you get those fingers nice and wet for me baby?”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” Y/N pushed two fingers inside her pussy, clenching around them wantonly. She must have let out some kind of noise because Red giggled again before she continued talking.

“That’s it, fuck yourself for me baby girl, until I can do it for you.” And fucking hell, the thought of Red actually with her, touching her, fucking her… “Your fingers nice and dirty now?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N squeaked, pressing against her g-spot to get herself even wetter.

“Good girl,” Red hummed. “Now suck them clean for me, Y/N. Want you to taste just how sweet you are. God, wish I could taste you too,” she moaned, her breath hitching.

Y/N obeyed Red’s instructions, sucking her fingers into her mouth and twirling her tongue around them, curling it across the dips and whorls of her fingertips. She groaned around the digits in her mouth, trying to make it audible that she was doing as she was told.

“Good girl,” Red cooed again, obviously hearing Y/N’s sucking. “Good filthy girl. You’re so dirty aren’t you baby, bet you’re dripping onto the sheets right now you’re so horny.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt her whole body clenching as she pushed her hand back between her legs, toying with her clit and sending fresh jolts of desire to her core. “Fuck, I’m touching myself again. Couldn’t help it, you’re so hot baby.”

“I want you to touch yourself sweetie. Want you to make yourself feel so good.”

“I want you to feel good too,” Y/N whimpered, maybe stupidly, but she remembered Jensen saying that Red got off with him and she wanted the same thing. She wanted to know that Red wanted her, that Red found her sexy. She didn’t want to be in this alone.

“Oh, I am feeling so good baby girl,” Red assured Y/N, her voice brimming with sincerity and whimpers to back it up. “Fucking myself so good, pretending it’s your fingers inside me.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Y/N couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The more she played with herself the foggier her brain got.

“What are you imaging right now?”

“Thinking about you, you on top of me.”

“You want me on top, huh? Want me to hold you down a little, baby?”

“Mm, yeah,” Y/N sighed, slipping two fingers from her free hand down to her entrance and pushing them inside, keeping her other hand on her clit, rolling it between her fingers. “You could hold me down, grind yourself against me. Use me to get yourself off.” Y/N’s breathing was ragged now, and the fingers inside her pussy sought out her g-spot again, starting to focus their efforts a little more concertedly on the spongy bundle of nerves.

“Oh sweetie, that’s so hot, fuck,” Red moaned heavily, her breath catching on her curse. “I’d grind against you so good. Rub our pussies together, all slick and hot, grind my clit against yours nice and hard. Fuck, touch your clit for me baby.”

“I am,” Y/N gasped, drawing fast little circles over the nub between her legs. “Fuck, want all that so bad. Think you could come like that? Just from rubbing your pussy on me, getting me all wet and dirty?”

“Fuck yes, love rubbing my pussy on yours, love grinding our clits together. I could tease you so good. Go nice and slow, wonder how long you’d last before you start begging me to let you cum.”

“I’m close,” Y/N whimpered, surprised at how true it was. She hadn’t gotten so close to cumming this quickly in ages.

“Already baby? You naughty little girl,” Red groaned, and the sound of bed springs crackled through Y/N’s earbuds too. Y/N pictured Red arching off the bed, fucking her hips into her fingers. “You want to cum for me baby?”

“Fuck, yes, yes please,” Y/N begged, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to constrict, heat singing through her veins.

“Not yet baby, keep fucking yourself.” Y/N let out a pathetic whine in protest. “You can do that for me, can’t you sweetie. Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Good girl, I’m so fucking close baby.”

“Fuck, please, want you to cum. Want you to cum with me.” Y/N’s eyes squeezed tight as small pinpricks of light started to burst in the darkness of her vision.

“Gonna cum for you, baby girl,” Red cried, voice high and tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna squirt, I can feel it. Gonna squirt all over your pussy, fucking soak you.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt like she might actually start crying, she needed to cum so badly. She was so so so close.

“Rub that little clitty, pretend it’s me rubbing up against you. All hot and wet,” her voice was breaking, her words short and breathless, and Y/N could tell Red was as close as she was. “Gonna cum all over you. Fuck, gonna squirt so hard bet I could actually cum inside you.”

“Holy fuck!” Y/N’s hips snapped into the air, searching for the imaginary body she wished was there. It was becoming hard to hear through the intense buzzing in her ears. Every nerve in her body was pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Cum for me Y/N, c’mon baby, you can do it, want you to cum for me like the good little girl you are baby, c’mon.”

Y/N was sobbing, wrist pistoning her fingers in and out of herself faster than she ever remembered being able to move, and she felt the walls of her pussy clamping down, trying to keep the pressure inside where it wanted it. And then she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything froze. She might have screamed, but to be honest she couldn’t be too sure, because she couldn’t hear anything except the white light that had flooded the dark space behind her eyelids.

Lockdown became much more bearable after that day. Though Y/N did have to try really hard to not think about the fact that she and Jensen were kind of fucking the same girl. In a way. It was weird. But if she ignored that part, then her ‘dates’ with Red were perfect. She was finally able to release all the tension, sexual and otherwise, that this whole mess had building up in her system constantly. And eventually, the world started to open back up and things started to get just a little bit easier.

Y/N wondered what she would do when lockdown was well and truly over. When the bars and clubs opened up again, would she and Jensen go out and try to hook up like they always had before? Would everything just go back to normal? Would she still want to call Red if she was getting actual sex with a real girl, and not just her hand or a bit of silicone? Yes. The answer was most definitely yes, Y/N had to admit to herself. Even though it was just phone sex, it was still some of the best sex she’d ever had.

Well, Red is a professional, she thought to herself wryly as she spooned some froth onto the top of the cappuccino she was making. The coffee shop she worked at had reopened last week, finally.

“Y/N! Can you jump on register while I take my break?” Michelle called from the end of the counter.

“Sure thing,” Y/N smiled and wiped her hands off on her apron, making her way behind the other baristas to the cash register. She briefly glanced at the line of people waiting to order – a couple of college kids carrying some scary looking textbooks, a portly man scratching his bald patch, a pretty girl with shiny hair and awesome winged liner. Y/N blushed as she caught the eye of the girl, and immediately looked back at her tablet, typing in her register code.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” Y/N’s customer service voice was alarmingly cheery, and the two college guys blinked, startled, clearly still unused to interacting with humans again – Y/N knew the feeling, cringing internally. She made a note to dial the pep back a little.

“Hey, what can I get you?” It was the pretty girl at the front of the line now.

“Um, I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she answered with a bright smile, red lips stretching across shockingly white teeth.

“Size?” Y/N asked, tapping the order into her tablet.

“How big can you make it?” the girl giggled, and Y/N looked up, something tugging at the back of her mind.

“Um, large?” Y/N answered absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was bugging her so much. The girl just nodded, politely accepting the fact that Y/N had skated over her joke. “Can I get a name for the order?” She grabbed the large sized cup and uncapped the marker, hand poised over the white cardboard, ready to write.

“Oh, sure. It’s Danneel.”

“Danielle?” Y/N asked, her mind still wandering.

“No, Dan– you know what, it’s a weird name. Just go with Red.”

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[lifesizehysteria]

To Where You Are (1/?) | An AdamsFoster Fic

Fandom: The Fosters/AdamsFoster

Summary: Based on my previous story, Journey to You, this chronicles Lena's side of all of the events that took place between the flashbacks from 1x09. This is how Lena fell in love with Stef and, despite every obstacle in the way, was finally able to accept and meet Stef exactly where she was on her journey.

Rating: T

A/N: When I came back to finish Journey to You, one thing I really felt was missing was Lena's side of things and I realized that I should have written it by alternating their perspectives. It was too late by then but the more time I spent in the story, the more I wanted to really get into Lena's life, heart, and mind. So that's what I did. I owe so much of this to my incredible beta who not just supported the idea but actively encouraged it. My favorite part, so far, has been getting to really breathe life into Lena and allow her to be a whole person, giving her friends, exploring her past and her relationships, and getting to know her outside of Stef and the kids. It's only made me love her more, which I hadn't thought was possible. I hope whoever is still around to read this loves her more, too.

Another important note, for those more familiar with Journey to You, the story is the same but there are details that will be different. I wanted to give myself room to make small changes in order to accommodate the improvement in my writing skills over the almost 10 years since I started writing JTY. Nothing will significantly impact the story, except to fix a few minor plot holes and to allow for better characterization and dialogue because I'm better at those than I was in 2013.

~

Chapter 1: Cassiopeia

“Can you please pull the student file for this morning’s admissions tour for me?” Lena begged Gabe as she rushed into the main office. 

“Isn’t Mark doing it?” he asked while flipping through a handful of files on his desk. He was a young man with a rich, dark complexion, buck teeth, and wire rimmed glasses.

“Apparently, he and Karina are still in that meeting with the president of the school board.”

“Seriously?” He looked down at his watch. “It’s been at least two hours.”

“I know. And since Karina just asked me to take Mark’s appointment, it doesn’t look like it’ll be ending any time soon.” Lena shook her head.

“Well thank god you didn’t have anything to do today,” Gabe smirked.

Lena let out a dry laugh. “Tell that to my two hundred unanswered emails.”

“An easy day then,” he said, making Lena roll her eyes and smile. He held out the file for her.

“Ugh, thank you! You’re a lifesaver.”

“My pleasure.”

Lena returned the toothy grin he gave as she tucked the file under her arm and hurried back to her office.

At her desk, Lena glanced at the clock. She had less than ten minutes. Opening up the student file, she found just a single paper. The prospective student, Brandon Foster, was a five-year-old boy starting kindergarten. A simple, straightforward enrollment. Relief started to replace some of the urgency of an unexpected appointment. Never one to waste any time, she pulled a granola bar from her desk drawer to quiet her stomach that was already beginning to grumble about missing lunch and opened up her email.

She was two paragraphs and three attachments into an email when her office phone rang.

“Duty ca-alls,” Gabe sang into her ear. She looked at the clock; it was five after one.

“Okay I’ll, uh, I’ll be right there. Just tell them I’m in a meeting or something. I just need a minute to finish up.”

“Don’t worry. I got you.” 

“You’re the best! Thank you! Thank you, thank you!” Hanging up the phone as she spoke, Lena saved her email as a draft and wrote herself a reminder to finish it later. She stood, brushed the crumbs from her lap and straightened out her sweater before heading back out to the main office.

“Where are they?” Lena asked, glancing around at the empty chairs. 

“It’s just the mom. She said she was going to wait outside. Seemed jumpy.” Gabe shrugged. 

“Okay…” Lena pressed her lips together, eyebrows raised. “I guess… I’ll go find her? I have no idea who I’m looking for.”

“Sorry. I should have just told her to wait here.”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll find her.” Lena started toward the door. 

“She was wearing a white striped shirt. Blonde hair to about here.” Gabe held his hand up above his shoulder. “Y’know… Mom hair.” He wrinkled his nose and Lena couldn’t help but laugh.

“Thanks,” she said, still smiling as she swept from the room.

Lena’s first stop was the bench just outside the front doors but she sighed when she found it empty. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. She put her hand up to shade her eyes, squinting in the bright afternoon sun as she scanned the grove. It was empty. There was no one near the parking lot. Where was she? With a little huff, she started off toward the elementary side of the school.

The gleeful sound of children playing reached her before the sight of the playground. It was afternoon recess and the kids were delighting in the unusually warm spring weather. Turning the corner around the main building, the playground emerged and along with it, the back of a blonde-haired woman wearing a white shirt sitting on another bench. Lena could just make out the stripes in the shirt and the way the ends of her hair flipped out along the tops of her shoulders. That had to be her. 

Lena gave her long, dark hair a shake so it rippled down her back, then straightened out the hem of her sweater again before heading in the woman’s direction. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as she approached the bench. When the woman startled, Lena offered an apologetic smile and her hand as she turned to face her. “Hi. I’m Lena Adams, the assistant vice principal.”

“Hi, I’m Stef Foster.” She stood to shake her hand and Lena would have noticed the way her firm yet gentle grip held on a little too long if she hadn’t been distracted by the way her hair glowed golden in the sun, or her smile that was as warm as the breeze blowing against her skin, or the way her hazel eyes held her captive so she couldn’t look away. For just a moment, Lena forgot how to breathe. 

The feeling of her grip loosening brought Lena back from wherever she had just been and she exhaled a nervous laugh.

“So... your son...” was all she could think to say. 

“Uh, Brandon... is—” Mrs. Foster stuttered, “Brandon.”

“Brandon—” Lena repeated, trying to cement his name in her now very distracted mind.

“Right,” she laughed. 

“He will be starting Kindergarten this fall?” At least she could remember that. 

“Yes. He’s five.”

“Great. Well, I would be glad to give you a tour, tell you about our school. Are we waiting for your husband to join?”

“Uh, no. He’s... not.” She paused. “He’s uh...” Still stumbling over her words, her cheeks grew pink and she looked away as Lena watched her. “He couldn’t make it,” she finally blurted out, laughing and shaking her head as if it might help the words come easier. Lena was glad she was laughing at herself because she couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“Okay.” Lena nodded her head, still smiling. “Well, um...” It wasn’t often she found herself tongue tied, not even by an attractive woman, but something about Stef Foster had her at a loss for words. “Follow me.” She dipped her chin, dragging her eyes away for the first time and feeling the blood rise to her face as she turned to lead Mrs. Foster back toward the front of the main building. 

Lena used the short walk to compose herself. It was so unlike her to be flustered yet she found her mind focused more on the presence of Mrs. Foster walking just behind her than on the task at hand. It was a good thing the tour was such a routine. 

“This is the grove,” Lena said, falling into the role like it was a well-practiced script, despite her distraction. They had reached the grassy area outside the main office that was manicured and dotted with trees. A group of picnic-style tables was off to the left where students could eat lunch outside. “It is mostly used for recreation but is occasionally utilized for outdoor classes. It’s the only outdoor common area used by the grade school as well as the middle and high schools. Its position right in front of the offices allows it to be closely monitored and grade school children are to always be accompanied by an adult when in this area. It’s very important that all of the children feel they are safe at all times to promote the most learning-friendly, distraction-free environment possible.”

They continued their walk along the path toward the out buildings on the other side of the grove. As Lena described the music and theater programs, she glanced back at Mrs. Foster. She was quiet but she nodded along in all the right places. Her hands stayed clasped in front of her and when they stopped, there was a tension in her shoulders that lengthened her back so it was too straight. She never quite met Lena’s gaze. 

“Has your son shown any interest in music?” Lena asked. 

“What?” 

“Brandon. Does he like music?”

“Oh right. Yes, actually. He has one of those miniature keyboards. You know the ones you can change the type of sound it makes?” 

She nodded, holding back a smile. Mrs. Foster grinned as she talked about her son and Lena appreciated the way that smile lit up her whole face. 

“Well, he loves it. Actually, the first night he had it he took it to bed with him. He wouldn’t put it down and eventually fell asleep with it tucked under the blanket!” Mrs. Foster laughed. 

“Aw, that’s sweet. I’m sure it was precious to see.”

“It was. I actually took a picture. How could I resist? He was so cute snuggled up with his little keyboard.” 

For the first time since they began, Mrs. Foster was making eye contact and Lena once again felt herself get trapped in her gaze. As ridiculous as she felt, she couldn’t make herself look away. 

“It must be one of his favorite toys.” 

“Second only to Joe.”

“Let me guess. A teddy bear?”

“Close. He’s a monkey. And so is Joe.”

Confused, Lena tilted her head to one side. “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry,” Mrs. Foster said, waving away the comment. “That was funnier in my head.” She shrugged. “Most of my jokes are, actually.” She gave a tight, self-conscious chuckle, her cheeks blossoming pink. When Lena pieced the joke together, she fell into a belly laugh. It really was a terrible joke, which somehow made it funnier. 

“Well,” Lena cleared her throat, trying to rein herself in. “I’m looking forward to meeting them both. Shall we continue?” 

“Absolutely,” Mrs. Foster agreed as Lena turned to continue along the path. She pointed out the science building and described the school’s mission of inspiring individuals to create community through community teaching as they passed the middle and high school side of the school before wrapping around to the back of the building. 

“This is the gym. It separates the grade school from the middle and high schools and is the other common area used by all grades. This is the elementary wing.” She gestured toward the rest of the building. “Would you like to see the inside?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

As they approached the back entrance, Mrs. Foster pulled on the door then stared at it when it didn’t open. Lena bit her lip to keep from laughing and stepped in front of her to swipe her I.D. badge. The door unlocked with a click. 

“All entrances at the back of the school are locked from the outside.” 

Mrs. Foster rocked back on her heels and laughed towards the ground, shaking her head. “Of course. That, uh, that makes sense. Wanna keep the kids safe. Yeah. Good... Good.”

This time Lena’s giggle escaped. She tried to cover it by clearing her throat, looking away as she held the door open. Giggling? Seriously? She could not believe herself but her burning cheeks were undeniable proof that she was, in fact, making an absolute fool of herself. 

She let the door close behind her and led Mrs. Foster down the hallway. “While we can’t escape standardized testing, our focus is still on giving kids a well-rounded, world-based education. One way we do that, especially with the elementary schoolers, is through exploratory learning. It’s hands-on learning done during school hours to help them absorb as much as possible through play and action. It encourages true understanding and knowledge rather than short-term memorization to pass tests. We strive for home-school balance and understand the importance of free play as part of a child’s education and development.”

“I don’t know what half of that means but it sounds very impressive!” 

Lena chuckled. “It just means we want kids to actually learn while they’re here. And that they don’t start getting homework until middle school.” 

“Oh, well, in that case, it is very impressive.” Mrs. Foster nodded. 

“Thank you,” Lena said, her chin lifting a bit. Curriculum development was a top priority of hers and the school’s success in that area was something she took great pride in. 

They continued through the elementary wing, taking a moment to greet a couple of passing teachers. Mrs. Foster, who seemed much more comfortable by then, asked a few questions and they were just about back to the office when they ran into the principal in the hall.

“This is Karina Sanchez, Principal of Anchor Beach. Karina, this is Stef Foster. She’s touring the school today.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Karina said, shaking Mrs. Foster’s extended hand. “So sorry about the sudden change earlier. Hopefully you’ve been able to get all your questions answered.” 

Mrs. Foster looked from Karina to Lena, smiling. “I have. Ms. Adams has been wonderful.” Lena felt heat rise to her cheeks at the compliment.

“Great,” Karina said with a nod. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I hope we’ll be seeing more of you in the future.”

“Hopefully.”

Karina smiled and nodded again before heading in the opposite direction.

“Okay,” Lena faced Mrs. Foster again, clasping her hands in front of her, “I guess we’re just about done. Do you already have an appointment set up for an evaluation?”

“Yes. Next Monday.”

“Perfect. Would you like to come back to my office to fill out the enrollment papers?”

Mrs. Foster’s lips twitched as she pressed them together and looked down at the ground for a moment. “Actually, I, um... I need to talk to my husband first. He was supposed to be here today but...” she paused and shook her head. “Anyway, he’s not completely sold on the whole charter school thing. Today was supposed to help convince him.” She shrugged her shoulders up toward her ears and gave an uneasy smile. 

“That’s fine! I completely understand,” Lena assured her. “You have plenty of time to decide. You can just fill out the paperwork when you come for the evaluation. If you’ve made up your minds by then, of course,” she added, hoping not to sound presumptuous.

“That sounds perfect. Hopefully I’m able to convince him. I think this would be the perfect fit for Brandon.”

“You know what, I think I have something that might help. Do you mind waiting? I’ll be back in just a moment.”

“Not at all.”

“Great.” With a nod, Lena turned and walked into the office.

“How’s it going?” Gabe asked as she passed his desk again. 

Lena didn’t answer, just glanced at him with her eyebrows raised before pulling open a filing cabinet behind him. 

“What’s that look for?”

Again, Lena didn’t answer. She thumbed through the files, pulling out pamphlet after pamphlet. When a small mountain had grown on top of the filing cabinet, she gave the drawer a shove and it closed with a metallic groan. She gathered the pamphlets and turned around. Gabe was still staring at her, his arms over his chest, one leg crossed over the other, foot swinging.  

“We’ll talk when I’m finished,” Lena said and strode from the room. 

“Here.” She held the stack out to Mrs. Foster. “These are full of information about the school, about different programs, some statistics and facts about charter schools versus standard public schools. Maybe this will help convince him.” 

“Thank you.” Mrs. Foster took the papers from her and smiled that charming smile, making Lena’s cheeks warm again. 

She swallowed so she could speak. Or try to, at least. “Alright. Well. Do you have any questions I can answer for you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty much set with these.” She gave the pamphlets a wave. 

“Alright then. Thank you for coming. I’ll see you next Monday with your husband and Brandon.”

“Great. It was very nice to meet you, Ms. Adams.”

Lena took hold of her outstretched hand and smiled. “Oh. Please, call me Lena.”

“Only if you call me Stef.” Her grin made it all the way up to her eyes. 

“Okay. Thank you again, Stef.” She lingered on the name just a bit. It suited her, she decided.

“No, thank you. We’ll see you Monday, Lena.” 

Lena hadn’t realized she was still holding onto her hand until Stef had to pull it away so she could leave. With her lower lip clamped between her teeth, she watched Stef walk away, trying not to smile like an absolute idiot. When Stef was long out of sight, Lena shook her head as if she might be able to shake her out of it. What was she doing?

She strode back into the office and before Gabe could say anything she said, “Can I talk to you in my office?” She didn’t wait for an answer, continuing down the hallway and unlocking her door. She held it open while he caught up then followed him in and closed it behind herself. 

“What is going on? You’re acting so weird.”

She turned on him, crossing to stand just a few feet away. “You could have warned me that she was gorgeous.” Lena admonished him in a harsh whisper despite the closed door. 

“Huh?”

“Stef— Mrs. Foster?” She gestured out the window toward the parking lot. 

“You mean, Mrs. Mom Hair?” He shrugged and plopped down in one of the chairs by Lena’s desk. “She didn’t seem like your type.”

Taken aback, she stared at him with her eyebrows drawn together. “I don’t have a type.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, eyebrows arched, and laughed.

“I don’t,” Lena insisted as she went to sit behind her desk. 

“Yes. You do. Your type is tall, dark, and expensive. She was none of those.”

“Excuse me?” Lena tucked her chin, indignant. 

“Hmm, lets see... Attorney, doctor, model, publicist...” As he rattled off her list of most recent exes, he ticked them off on his fingers. “There was that artist in there but she was obviously a trust fund baby, even though she pretended not to be. She couldn’t help the fact that she couldn’t make any money because was a terrible artist.”

“She wasn’t terrible, she was avant-garde. And I can’t believe you think I’m that shallow! I don’t date people for their money.”

“I know that and I’m not judging.” He leaned forward, his hand up between them for emphasis. “Trust me. You just like women with a certain... amount of class. It’s not your fault that tends to mean they also have money.” Gabe shrugged and sat back in his chair again.

Lena opened her mouth to argue but closed it again when she had no defense. “Well, I’m still mad you didn’t warn me. I had no idea what I was walking into and ended up looking like an idiot.”

“Well, that’s doubtful.” He rolled his eyes at her. “And don’t blame me. She’s not exactly my type either, you know.”

“Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you’re blind.”

“No but you might need to borrow my glasses.”

Lena pursed her lips and tilted her head in disapproval. 

“What? She’s blonde, bland, and boring.”

“She’s not boring. She was very nice.

“Those are not mutually exclusive.”

“She’s also funny,” she insisted, though that wasn’t exactly right. She had a unique sense of humor that almost came across like her jokes were bad on purpose. Lena had a strong feeling Stef was a fan of really awful puns and even if it was more endearing than it was actually funny, she had still made Lena laugh. A lot.

Gabe leaned toward her again, crossing his arms in front of him on the desk. “Look, if you’re suddenly into Mrs. Brady, I say go for it. Maybe a change will be good for you.”

“I’m not into her. She’s just pretty.”

“And funny,” he reminded her.

“She’s also married.”

Gabe smirked and leaned back. “Luckily for you, you can go to any park on any Saturday morning and find a hundred Mrs. Bradys just like her.”

Lena shook her head. “No you can’t. Not like her.”

Gabe’s eyebrows shot up and he regarded her over the top of his glasses with a long, slow blink.

“Oo-Kay.” He put his hands up in surrender. “This just went to a whole other level.” Pushing himself up, he stood and shook his head. “Either you need to get laid or you need a Come to Jesus meeting and I’m not qualified for either of those things so I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my desk now.” As he spoke, he backed up toward the door until the knob was in his hand behind him. “Good luck with... all of this,” he said, gesturing his other hand at her in a circle. He wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement with himself as he swung open the door. Halfway out, he leaned back around and added, “Call me if you need a wing man, though. Seriously. I’m down.”

Unwilling to dignify him with a response, she watched him with narrowed eyes as he held his hand up to his ear like a phone and mouthed, “call me” before leaving her with a final wink. When the door closed behind him, Lena deflated against her chair, letting her head fall back. She rolled her eyes as she stared at the ceiling, pretending that she was annoyed with Gabe instead of herself. 

#adamsfoster #adamsfosterfic #the fosters #lena adams foster #stef adams foster #written by lifesizehysteria #twya story #i'm not committing to posting more at this time #but i will have this up on ao3 and ff soon when my brain is actually working

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 1)

Summary: While at home one night, the reader, an actress, is almost kidnapped and at her friend’s suggestion she hires Jensen as her bodyguard. While the pair doesn’t get along, an incident at the reader’s new home leads her and Jensen to taking a drastic measure...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,900ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, attempted kidnapping, drugging

A/N: There will be no taglist for this series. Please check out the masterlist for posting dates/times. Enjoy!

_________

“Get the fuck off!” you said, kneeing the man that was halfway through dragging you down your stairs. You threw a punch and a kick, swinging more than a few times before the grip on you fell away and you booked it for the front door. You sprinted outside and down the driveway, dashing across the street and banging on your neighbor’s door. 

A light came on and you glanced over your shoulder, spotting the guy dressed in black and wearing a mask jog to the end of your driveway.

“Shit, shit,” you said, a strong arm grabbing you and yanking you inside before you could even turn back around. The door slammed shut after you and you took a deep breath, your neighbor standing there in his boxers, saying something to his wife in the background. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” said Jared. You straightened up and nodded, his eyes going wide. 

“Gen! Tell them she needs an ambulance too,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you said as he walked you to his kitchen and sat you down at the counter. Gen was in there, on the phone with the police it sounded like, as Jared went to a cupboard. He pulled out a red bag and then was walking back over with a wad of bandages, holding it up to your forehead. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he said. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you said, pressing your hand to your head, seeing the half secured zip tie stuck on your other wrist. There were sirens in the distance and you shut your eyes.

“Hey, no sleeping. You might have a concussion,” he said.

“I’m not sleeping,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” he said, the sirens getting louder before there were flashing lights in the window. Gen walked over to the front door, letting the police in. About four officers came inside, one of them immediately coming over to you.

“What’d he look like? How many?” he asked.

“Uh, all in black, with a mask. He was white I think from what I could tell. Maybe six foot, average build, strong. It was just the one as far as I know. Last I saw him he was at the end of the driveway before my neighbor let me in his house,” you said.

“You two, call it in for backup and start looking. Jones, get a full statement from these three. Start with the vic. Medics will want to look at that head,” he said. “Which house is yours?”

“Right across the street. Red front door,” you said. He left and the other cop in there pulled out a plastic bag from his back pocket.

“I need to cut that off for evidence,” he said, glancing at your wrist.

“Should we do anything?” asked Jared as the cop made a cut and bagged the plastic tie.

“I would keep pressure on that wound for the moment,” he said, writing on the bag and taking out a notepad and pen. “Alright. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“I was asleep less than ten minutes ago in my bed and I woke up to someone touching my arm and I found that tie thing on me and the guy tried grabbing my other arm but I rolled away. I got caught up in the covers while I was running away so he caught up to me in the hall outside my bedroom and I just started hitting what I could and then he tried to pull me downstairs and I hit him some more and then he let go and I ran over here.”

“How’d you sustain the head injury?” he asked.

“Well he was hitting me too when I started fighting back,” you said. “I was half-awake.”

“Okay. Sir, I’m going to need to ask you a few questions now.”

Three Hours Later

“Hey,” said Jared, setting a cup of tea down at his breakfast table. He rubbed your back and you sighed. “Rough night huh?”

“At least I don’t have a concussion,” you said, touching your butterfly bandages on your head.

“Police said your alarm wasn’t on.”

“So this is my fault?” you asked.

“No, I didn’t say that. I am saying that you and Gen have a very popular show together and if she didn’t have me around, I’d want her to have a bodyguard, maybe even full time,” he said.

“I have had this conversation with my manager multiple times. I’m not getting a bodyguard. For events and conventions, fine, I’ll have one. At work? In my life? No way,” you said.

“Y/N, you know I used to be in the army. Then I was a cop. Then I was on a SWAT team before I retired to become a stay at home dad,” he said.

“Yes. You’re an adorable scary badass. What’s your point?” you asked.

“When I worked SWAT, I worked a a few kidnapping cases. The honest truth is sometimes we don’t find you until it’s too late or we never do. It’s not like a movie. It’s not like your guys show and someone swoops in. No one shows up out of the blue to save you. You save yourself or you don’t get saved. Rarely do we get you out of that situation.”

“Again, what’s your point?”

“My point is whoever that person was, when they come back because they will come back, Y/N, and when they do, they’re not going to be that sloppy. They may drug you. They may knock you out. They could do a number of things but your chances of getting way again would be extraordinary. I love ya and I’ll always protect you. But next time, I might not be able to stop something bad from happening. You alone over there...I wouldn’t know until it’s too late.”

You were quiet, playing with the tea bag in your drink as he drank from his own mug.

“I don’t want a stranger coming into my home,” you said.

“Y/N, Gen and I want you to stay here for as long as you-”

“I meant a bodyguard, Jare. I don’t want somebody I don’t know to start coming into my life and controlling it.”

“I have a friend from my army days who does that kind of work. He’s between jobs at the moment. I’ll vouch for him,” he said.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice on this, are you,” you said.

“Gen and I are moving. A bigger place,” he said. “We think it’s a good idea if you had a change of scenery too.”

“You think she’s in danger too?”

“We don’t know but she’s five months pregnant. We don’t want to risk anything,” he said. “It’s just a thought.”

“Can...can I stay over here a few days? While I figure out what I want to do?” you asked.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N.”

Two Weeks Later

“I like the new place,” said Jared as he helped you carry in the last box. 

“It’s uh, a bit big,” you said. “But the owner wanted to sell fast and I wanted out of the other one fast so it worked out.”

“Seems like a lot of space for one person,” said the man walking in through the open front door. He was in a pair of dark jeans and a blazer, a tee shirt underneath. You stepped behind Jared but he chuckled. “Really Jare? Didn’t mention I’d be stopping by?”

“Y/N, this is my friend Jensen. I told you about him. You said you were interested in meeting him,” said Jared.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.

“Y/N please,” you said as you shook it.

“I prefer to keep things professional,” said Jensen. “It’s easier that way. So, this is the new place, hm? Which room will be mine?”

“There’s a guest suite over on the first floor you can use,” you said.

“Where’s the master?”

“Upstairs.”

“Preferably I’d like to be in a room closer to yours,” he said.

“Fine. Take the guest room upstairs,” you said. “This is just a test run remember.”

“My contract says this is a six month test run,” he said as he looked around. “I see you’re still moving in so perhaps we can go over some of our new procedures in the morning.”

“Sure,” you said. 

“I’ll move in my belongings then,” he said. “I don’t have much.”

“Mhm,” you said. He nodded and headed back outside, Jared catching the look you gave him.

“What?” he asked.

“He’s gonna be a joy to live with,” you muttered.

“He’s quiet until you get to know him. I wouldn’t have recommended him if I didn’t trust him. He’s saved my life before. I know he’ll have your back,” said Jared.

“Yeah,” you said, his phone going off. “Jared, go. I know you’re already late for the baby checkup.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I only have boxes left to unpack anyways. Go on. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you said. He gave you a wave on the way out, leaving you to stare at the pile of boxes sitting on your kitchen floor. You cracked your back and started to work, catching Jensen move in a few duffel bags of his own. He left and wandered around outside eventually, allowing you to try and get the essentials all stored away.

By the time it was seven, you were exhausted but your bedroom, bathroom and kitchen were all set up. You plopped down on the couch, closing your eyes. They blinked open when you felt a presence standing over you.

“I’ve done a review of the property. I’d like to have an upgraded security system installed tomorrow,” he said.

“Whatever. Just put it on the card my manager gave you,” you said.

“I’d also like to consider hiring an additional person to monitor the system at some point. They can be remotely based,” he said.

“Like I said, whatever,” you said, closing your eyes again.

“I assume I have access to use the kitchen as I desire,” he said.

“No smoking. No drugs. No random hookups you bring here and as long as you don’t bug me and stay away from my ice cream, we’ll be fine,” you said.

“I can agree to that. As long as you follow my rules, we’ll also be fine,” he said. You laughed and sat up, walking to the kitchen to find your phone. “Do you think that’s funny?”

“I think the fact you think you’re going to be making rules in my home that I paid for is very funny,” you said. You took the phone to check on the pizza and wings you ordered for yourself, Jensen walking over and stopping in front of you. “Can I help you?”

“You are paying me a very large sum of money to keep you safe. If you don’t listen to what I say then I can’t guarantee your safety,” he said.

“Let me get something clear. I’m doing this to appease my friends and manager. Do whatever you want around here but don’t start telling me how to live my life,” you said.

“I took this job as a favor,” he said, snatching your phone out of your hand and tossing it on the countertop behind him. You scowled and he walked forward, forcing you to back up until your back hit a wall.

“Dude, backoff.”

“Pretend I’m that man that tried to take you before. What do you do? Right here and now. What’s your plan?”

“I’m serious,” you said, trying to brush past him and getting a light shove into the wall for it. You glared at him but he held his ground, pushing you again when you moved.

“I’m serious. Tell me what your plan is. Better yet, show me,” he said. 

“I don’t care if you are Jared’s friend. I am this close to punching you. Move now.”

“I said show me.”

You narrowed your eyes and brought up your knee to hit him in the groin. He pushed it away before it connected though and you were off balance, Jensen grabbing you and yanking you away from the wall, putting you in a headlock and tugging your arms behind your back.

“Don’t go for the most obvious move in the world,” he said. “Now that didn’t go how you wanted it to. What’s the plan now?”

“Get off,” you growled, trying to stomp your foot down on his but he moved it back and kicked out your ankle, making you fall back against him. He picked you up and you started moving your legs, Jensen suddenly dropping you down onto the hardwood floor. You hit your knee and winced, a hand suddenly grabbing the back of your shirt. “Alright! I get the fucking point.”

“Do you?” he said, squatting down beside you. You tried pushing his hand away but it tightened and you tried throwing a punch, his grip almost too hard now and his free hand easily blocking the hit. “You have no plan. You’re too small and too weak to overpower someone. You can’t afford to have no plan. The thing is, when it’s real, you’ll be panicking and you’ll have no time at all to think of one.”

“Stop touching me unless you want me to call the cops on you,” you spat out. He moved his hand away and stood, staring back at you.

“You need to do what I tell you if you want to stay safe. I will teach you what to do if you’re in that situation for whatever reason. But the rules keep that situation from happening in the first place. Understand?” he said.

“Understand that you are fired as of now. Pack up your shit and get out of my house,” you said. You got to your feet and he raised an eyebrow. “I’m your boss and I can fire you whenever I want. Get out.”

“How on earth Jared is friends with a someone like you I will never understand,” he said. He headed upstairs and the doorbell rang. You forced a smile for the delivery guy and took your food back to the kitchen, digging in before Jensen was even tossing his first bag down the stairs. You rolled your eyes and were on your third slice by the time he was walking downstairs.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” you said. He shot you a dirty look, his head cocking as he set his bag down. “Oh now what?”

“You look really pale,” he said, walking over to you. “Your pupils are huge.”

“You know what else? You are so not as hot as you think you are,” you said, reaching for another piece of chicken before he smacked your hand. “You are this close to me calling...someone.”

Your head got dizzy for a second, Jensen grabbing your arms and setting you down on the ground.

“I feel funny,” you said, tipping over and resting against him. “Really, really funny.”

“You just got drugged,” he said, using his phone to dial a number. “No more takeout. Got it? Obviously this person knows you moved. I want to put someone at the house full time.”

“I’m gonna fall asleep now,” you said, shutting your eyes.

“No, nope, try to stay awake,” he said. You hummed and he grabbed your face. “Y/N. Try.”

“You’re really pretty for a grumpy grump,” you said.

“I thought I wasn’t hot. Just stay awake for me, Y/N,” he said.

Twenty minutes later you were in the ER with an IV in your arm and feeling a whole lot of crappy. Jensen said something to a doctor before he walked over to the stall you were in and stood by the bed.

“Hey. Police are at your house. Neighbor said they saw a silver pickup parked down the street. Seemed shady. It was gone by the time they got there,” he said.

“Course it was,” you mumbled.

“You more with it again?” he asked.

“Yeah. Feel really tired is all,” you said.

“Well I called your manager. He said he’d be here soon so I’m gonna head out,” he said.

“Huh?” you said, sitting up as he started to leave. “Wait.”

“Last I remember, you fired me. Nothing has changed,” he said. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist, the effort taking more energy than you were anticipating. He didn’t shrug you off, instead gently setting your hand back in your lap and pushing you to lay back down.

“You should rest. There’s a cop outside the room,” he said.

“Stop. Just...sit down,” you said. He sighed but sat on the edge of the bed, raising an eyebrow. “How could somebody already know where I moved? Hardly anyone knows.”

“You rent a moving truck?” he asked.

“Yeah. Movers did the furniture,” you said. He shrugged and you shut your eyes. “The movers?”

“No, probably not them. But that truck probably has GPS for mileage tracking and if this person has your credit card info, they could figure it out,” he said. “The food thing probably happened back at the restaurant you ordered from. Somebody slips in the backdoor, puts some stuff on your food and slips back out.”

“What’s your suggestion?”

“I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Let’s pretend earlier didn’t happen. Please,” you said. “I can’t...I can’t be alone right now and something feels really off about this whole thing.”

“This whole thing has felt off the second Jared told me about it. Tonight just further proved that point,” he said.

“You were in the army longer than he was, right?”

“He decided to retire, go be a cop. I stayed in. Worked on a few more specialized skills a bit longer before I left and got in this line of work,” he said.

“I’m going to assume you know what you’re doing then.”

“Yeah. I know what I’m doing. I can’t guarantee anything but I can give you some pretty damn good odds,” he said. He stared at you for a moment and looked you over. “You’re smarter than the stereotypical actress I pegged you for.”

“It had to have been someone on my team or that’s close to me in order to know that I was moving,” you said. “Or else the person never would have known to look today.”

“Someone that knows your go to takeout place too. You need to be extremely careful about who you trust right now,” he said.

“I trust Jared and Gen,” you said.

“I trust the guy with my life. I’d trust him with yours. Gen is fiesty when you piss her off but you’re her best friend. They didn’t do this.”

“Your expert opinion, what’s my next move?” you asked. He rubbed the back of his neck and made a face. “Jensen.”

“Ideally? You go off grid. I mean off grid, off grid. Middle of nowhere, no one knows where exactly. Cut yourself off and it’d give us more time to figure out who this person is and what exactly it is they want with you. If they’re as close as we think they are, they’ll find a way to sneak in again and next time, it might be my food that’s drugged. It’s a big risk to go back to the house.”

“I can’t go be alone though. What if they did find me somehow?” you asked.

“I said off grid. I didn’t say alone,” he said. “It’s an extreme approach, I’ll give you that. But it gives me more time to work on this and it’ll keep you safe.”

“Why not hire a bunch of guys to stay around me all the time?”

“Because you’re still in danger if you stay in LA and I don’t have the ability to check that many guys out. I got guys I know I can trust but they’re all over the country and the only other one here is Jared and Gen needs him. No offense but she’s got a kid with another on the way. More bodies means more priority,” he said.

“No, no. Please keep them safe too. If it’s a fan of the show, they could be in the same situation,” you said.

“I’m not going to try and tell you what to do because obviously, you weren’t a fan of me doing that before. But if you want to be able to sleep safely at night, we need to go, just you and me. Jared and Gen can know but that’s it and I mean that’s it. I can secure a safe place and everything we’ll need. But it’s going to be a drastic lifestyle change.”

“How drastic?”

“Like no internet and our electricity will run off a generator drastic.”

“If I stay here?”

“I give it a week tops before they try something again,” he said.

“We wrapped two weeks back and since Gen’s pregnant, we aren’t slated to start filming for another seven months. I’ll have to cancel some events but if I was ever going to go off grid, now’s the time to do it.”

“I will get it arranged. Do not speak a word of this to anyone,” he said.

“Jensen,” you said as he stood. “What was that back at the house? You acting all aggressive like that?”

“The last client I had, I was lenient, never taught them anything, let them push me around and dictate how I worked. They got put in a bad situation because of that. If you don’t take this seriously, then what’s the point of me being here.”

“Well wherever we go, I’m gonna need a few things. Women stuff,” you said.

“Make a list and tomorrow, pack a bag,” he said. “I want us on the road tomorrow night. I don’t care what you tell your team about why you’ll be MIA. Just tell them something so we don’t get a missing persons report on you.”

“Alright,” you said, Jensen nodding and starting to leave. “Wait. Where are you going?” 

“I need to start preparing. Like I said, there’s a police officer by the door.”

You stared at him and he took a deep breath.

“How about he stays in the room with you until we’re ready to go home and get what we need, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said.

“Hang tight. When you’re up for it, we’ll get out of here.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

[caker-baker]

Prompt by @gingerly-writing -

“Please, you have to help me save my sidekick.”

“Have to? Darling, ‘have to’ fled out the door the moment you did. You left me. I don’t owe you anything.”

“I’ll come back.”

“What?”

“I’ll come back. And when I do, I’ll give you everything you ever wanted.”

The hero stood unwavering, watching the villain’s cold calculation. They had half a mind to wonder if they would be enough payment, but they also saw the villain’s sudden fidget at their offer.

“So easily?” The villain asked after the stretch of silence. “I seem to recall you being very angry at me.”

The hero jerked their hand up to comfort the villain, a strange force of habit that they needed to work on.

“I didn’t-” they let their hand fall. “I still don’t agree with what you do. But I didn’t know that I would hurt you.”

The villain considered this. “Sure, you didn’t know it would hurt. Just like you don’t know all that I truly want. Your bargain is steep.”

“Will you help me?”

“Obviously.”

.

For it being the hero’s sidekick that needed rescuing, the villain did take the lead.

They were much more familiar with the other villain, every hiding place, each dark crevice used to stash someone away in, and the best ways to break into that dark place.

The hero watched in amazement as the villain crushed one of the kidnapper’s cameras. It was positioned very carefully on the roof, and they had about five more to go before fully raising the other villain’s alarms.

“When did you get so strong?” The hero asked.

“Always have been.” They brushed off the comment. “What are you doing when the villain gets here?”

“I know the plan.”

“Amuse me.” The villain really just wanted reassurance that the hero wouldn’t get hurt, that they would follow this through to a T.

“Whenever he arrives to check out his offline cameras, you knock him out-”

“Or kill him.” The villain interjected. “Fingerprints still work when you’re dead.”

Truthfully, the hero didn’t entirely disagree with that, but their sidekick’s safety was more important than ensuring someone���s death.

“I get in and out, you keep watch.” The hero concluded.

“Good.”

With the last camera crushed, they waited.

“Earlier,” The hero started, wishing the darkness could swallow them. “You said I didn’t know what you wanted. You still agreed.”

It would’ve been easy for the villain to relax, but they needed to be on guard.

“Now is the time you want to bring this up?” A muscle in their jaw ticked. “Darling, I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“No.” The hero conceded. “But it would be nice.”

“Fan out!”

The two of them tensed even more at the other villain’s voice, but still went into action.

It was the hero who moved first, scouting for henchmen in the dark. The villain waited for the other villain, fully expecting him to investigate the broke cameras himself. Arrogance would be his downfall.

Taking down henchmen was an easy task. Villains employed quick, less than tactical muscle, that much the hero knew.

There were ten of them total, each the hero had managed the upper hand. They didn’t hesitate when they felt a hand on their shoulder, grabbing and twisting the arm.

“Hey!” The villain whisper-shouted, teeth clenched. “Just me.”

The hero dropped their hold on the villain. “Sorry! Are you ok?” Another instinct movement, a gentle touch to see if the villain was alright.

The villain didn’t pull away.

“I’m fine, our guy isn’t.” They smiled mischievously, something the hero used to love. “He’s going to wake up in a very amusing situation.”

The villain didn’t bother to elaborate, even with the hero’s raised eyebrow, they simply motioned to a now open door.

“Go on, then.”

That was all the hero needed to bolt inside. They didn’t bother taking in the dark surroundings, they just looked for a silhouette in the dark.

“Hey, hey.” The hero spoke softly to the half-conscious sidekick.

Their knife did quick work with the ropes, the hero even quicker to catch their staggering sidekick.

“Hero?” The sidekick questioned, their words slurring slightly due to swelling on their cheek.

“Stay awake for me, yeah?”

The hero hated this, and was hit with the sudden realization of why there were so few sidekicks. If any were officially rescued, they often disappeared with no trail to follow. The ones that weren’t officially rescued left, very bluntly and quickly, angry they were going to be left behind.

The hero didn’t want to break the news to their sidekick that this was an unofficial rescue, the hero wanted to break whoever decided their sidekick wasn’t important enough for an official rescue.

When the villain saw them, they let out a low whistle. “They look rough.”

With a glare from the hero, the villain sighed, moving to help carry the sidekick. The three didn’t stop until they reached the villain’s hidden away car.

“Hero?” The sidekick began again. “What’s villain doing here?” There was very little light to see what the sidekick looked like, but based on the way their words sounded, the hero could take a guess.

The sidekick was still shaking, but they held strong in the hero’s arms, who seemed unwilling to answer.

“Why aren’t the others here? Why are you with villain? The other heroes-” The finally piece of the puzzle fell into place. With shuddering realization, the sidekick spoke. “They were going to leave me.”

“Can we talk about it?” The hero asked, glancing at the villain. They didn’t know how soon the villain would like good on their deal.

They made a point to sigh dramatically, but still raised their hands up to go ahead.

“I’ll be here.” The villain said quietly, eyeing the hero before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“So you-” it was hard to form the words. “You made a deal with villain?”

“Don’t be mad.” The hero spoke, gently taking their hands. “The others wouldn’t listen. They didn’t understand, I had to-”

They were cut off with a strangled scoff. “Hero, I don’t care your method, you saved me.”

They fell into silence, and the hero wished they had brought a first aid kit with them, at least so the sidekick could get momentary relief. Though they should have help with that shortly.

“I do need to know.” The sidekick was truly scared of the answer, but an answer was needed. “What does this mean for you?”

There was a thin smile across the hero’s face. They were deciding what to say.

“I just...promised to come back.”

That left the sidekick with more questions.

“Hold on.” Their eyelids drooped suddenly. “Don’t...”

“You need to take it easy.” The hero said, grabbing their sidekick by the shoulders. “I called in a favor. They should be here shortly.”

“Hero, no.”

“It’s just my medic friend. Turns out, professionals don’t care whether or not you were meant to be saved.” It was supposed to be a joke, but the sidekick looked unamused. They were too weak to feel amused.

“We’re five minutes ahead of schedule.” The hero continued. “They’ll be here in a moment.”

The sidekick had been running on adrenaline and worry for the better part of the night, the extra energy boost was finally wearing off.

“We need to go.”

They hadn’t even heard the villain getting out of the car.

“The medic will be here soon, they’ll be fine.” Their words were meant to be comforting, to draw the hero away quick, but it didn’t have the desired effect.

The hero pulled the sidekick in for a gentle hug, praying that the medic would be here soon, knowing they got lucky getting the help they did.

“If you want to leave this business,” they whispered in the sidekick’s ear. “find me. I will help you.”

“Come on. I can’t be seen here by anyone else tonight.” The villain urged, gently grabbing the crook of the hero’s arm.

Everything else passed in a blur, but the hero was strangely aware of the car’s leather seats.

“Hey.” The villain held out a free hand, the one not on the steering wheel. “They’ll be ok. I promise I wouldn’t leave them alone if they were in danger.”

The hero grimaced, but still took the villain’s hand. “I know.”

It took a moment for the hero to realize that the villain was absentmindedly tracing the lines of their palm. Old habits apparently didn’t die for either of them, as evident through their actions.

The villain spared half a glance before looking back to the road.

“What do you think coming back entails?” They asked, eyes glued to the dark road ahead.

“All the reasons I left last time. I couldn’t be the person you wanted, I couldn’t give up this life to be...more like you.” The hero thought to pull their hand away, trying to be aloof; but the villain had seemingly thought about that possibility seconds before, gently squeezing their hand to keep holding on.

“No.” The villain responded simply, turning on a road the hero found familiar.

“No?”

“Darling, I don’t want you to be anybody else. I’m not nice. I’m a selfish person, but believe me when I tell you you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted as a constant.” They hummed in thought. “Though a literal partner in crime would be nice.”

The hero shot them a look, vaguely taking note of the corner they were turning on.

“So I was wrong?” They asked, their head turned to face the villain, who nodded. “Then why is my bargain steep?”

Another turn, each more familiar than the last. This turn was different, the villain’s knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel, frustration seeping into their driving.

“There’s more to life than villainy, heroics.” The villain bit the inside of their cheek. “You never acted like it.”

They were parked, and the hero knew the destination.

“We aren’t young forever.” The villain was now able to give their full attention to the hero, holding both of their hands.

“No, we aren’t.” The hero admitted. “What do you want?”

At some point, they had both leaned closer.

“Bliss.” The villain whispered. “You and me. A home, mortgages, grocery shopping, arguing over chores, coming home to one another.”

There was hardly an inch between them.

“Darling, all I want is you in my arms, that’s all I ever wanted.”

The hero felt themselves swallow, their eyes flickering between the villain’s lips and face.

They didn’t want to give up heroics, the villain was right, but god, it was tempting at the moment.

“I made a deal, didn’t I?”

A soft smile answered the hero’s question, a hand reaching up to cradle their face.

“You did.”

Lips met, the first reunited kiss was just as electric as the first official kiss. The villain carefully cupping the hero’s face, the hero returning the gesture.

The villain was the one to pull away. “Which is why it can’t happen yet.”

Begrudgingly, the hero let their hold fall, respecting the villain’s signals.

“So what does this mean?” The hero asked, eyes drifting towards the familiar threshold.

It was clever of the villain to drive to the hero’s house, mostly for the villain’s sake. They were, after all, selfish, and wanted to get the hero home before they decided to truly collect their end of the bargain.

“It means I’m waiting, however long it takes. When you step down,” the villain gave a pointed look at this, almost daring the hero to challenge the notion. “I’ll be there.”

A smile broke across the hero’s face. “Walk me in?”

“Happily.”

#villain x hero #based off a prompt #hero x villain #villainess #heroine #hero #villain #villains #heroes #snippets #hero writes #villain writes #wip #villains and heroes #heroes and villains

[morganaspendragonss]

I hope that you are doing well! I love the your writing! If you are open to a Tarlos fic request: TK to Carlos after the doctor has told him Carlos might not make it through the next 48hrs "I cannot imagine life without you, please don't let me live my greatest fear. I won't survive."

Carlos has been working a case and it happens that he becomes a target. He starts getting messages at work, at home and becomes paranoid but doesn't tell TK, but TK can see that Carlos is on edge. Carlos picks a fight with TK so that he goes to stay with Owen for a while. Carlos does this to protect him, let him at least stay away so that if anything happens, TK is safe. Then one night, Carlos is alone at home and someone breaks in, torture ensues and he is barely clinging to life. He calls 911, Grace answers and he can barely get the words out "it's Carlos, send help". 📍

holly's august extravaganza day 10: i can't imagine my life without you

thank you!

ao3 | 1.9k | descriptions of torture, major character injury, angst, hopeful ending, open ending

TK knows he’s annoying people. The atmosphere in the ambulance is thick with tension whenever they’re out on a call, and it’s not much better back at the firehouse. He tries to keep his distance, occupying himself in the gym or aggressively doing chores, but he can’t avoid everyone forever and his bad mood is starting to spill over.

Like when he and Nancy fell back into their old pattern of snipping at each other, or when he nearly bit Paul’s head off when he asked what was wrong. It was less the question itself—though TK certainly doesn’t want to get into why he’s so out of it—and more the way Paul phrased it. Nobody likes to be asked ‘trouble in paradise?’, particularly when the answer is yes.

He just doesn’t understand. It had come completely out of left field—one minute everything was fine, the next Carlos had turned to him with guarded eyes and a clenched jaw, and said six words that sent TK’s whole world crashing down.

“I think we need a break.”

Carlos hadn’t explained why; when TK had tried to push, he’d turned it into a fight, until TK had no choice but to leave. He’s been staying with his dad for a week now and he desperately misses his boyfriend, torn between wanting to go over and check on him and wanting to give him space.

He’d settled on a text, a simple you okay?, which still felt woefully inadequate. Carlos had been on edge for weeks before the blow up and TK hadn’t been able to get a word out of him about why.

The text is still unanswered, though it’s been marked as Read.

TK huffs and hauls himself up into the ambulance to check stock. He knows Nancy has already done it and she’s going to be pissed if she catches him, but he needs to keep his mind occupied somehow, lest he start to spin out. But the peace he finds is short-lived, as not ten minutes after he starts, TK looks up from his clipboard to see Judd approaching, hands held out in a pacifying gesture.

It has the opposite effect, TK’s nerves becoming that bit more frayed at the spooked animal treatment he’s getting, but his pointed glare does nothing to deter Judd. Nor does turning his back and returning to work, as he finds out when Judd’s heavy footsteps stop behind the rig and don’t move away.

“TK,” Judd says, his voice suspiciously rough.

TK doesn’t bother turning around, hoping it will get the message across. “Fuck off, Judd,” he says, which would normally be a guarantee of riling him up enough to get him to either leave TK alone or engage in a more physical manner.

At this point, TK doesn’t really care which reaction he gets.

Unfortunately, he’s not in luck today. Which, honestly, tracks.

“I got a phone call,” Judd continues, undeterred, “from Grace. Now, I figure you’ll be getting a similar one soon enough, but we thought it might be better if you heard it from us first.”

TK sighs and hangs his head, reluctantly turning around. “What?” he snaps out. When Judd doesn’t react, not even with a raised eyebrow, a quiet dread begins to pool in his gut, a little voice in the back of his head telling him he already knows ‘what’.

He tries to push it down, but there are very few reasons why Grace would call Judd and ask to talk to him. TK takes the proffered phone in a shaking hand, his heart starting to pound as he lifts it to his ear.

“Grace?”

“Hey, TK.” Grace’s voice is gentle, as it always is, but there’s a soothing note to it now, and more of the pieces start to slot together in TK’s head. “Listen, honey, I’m at work and I just got a call come through. I’m… I’m so sorry, TK. It was Carlos.”

TK’s breath catches, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “What do you mean?” he demands, voice shaky. “What do you mean ‘you’re sorry’?”

“He was… I don’t know. He was barely able to talk, but it sounded real bad. EMS 122 were in the area at the time so I sent them out; they should have arrived at the hospital by now.”

And TK… TK doesn’t know what to say to that. He slumps back on the bench in the rig, breathing turning shallow as he imagines what could have happened to Carlos. The last time they’d seen each other—the last time they’d spoken—it had ended with them throwing insults across the kitchen island and with TK packing a bag and slamming the door behind him.

The thought that it might be the last memory they have together kills him inside.

He needs answers. Before he can face this new reality, he needs to know what happened, which means there’s only one thing he can do right now.

“Grace?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I want to hear it.”

*

Judd has followed him up to the mercifully empty bunkroom, refusing to leave after both his and Grace’s attempts to dissuade him had failed. TK ignores him for the most part, but he does give in to his request to put the phone on speaker. Much as he wants to deal with this on his own, it is a kind of comfort to have Judd’s steady presence next to him.

“Are you sure about this, TK?” Grace asks for the millionth time. TK appreciates her concern, but he needs this. He needs to hear it for himself.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright then.”

He hears a few clicks and then the recording starts, Grace’s voice coming over the speaker.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

No response.

“Hello?”

The silence continues, broken only by static, and then what TK recognises as heavy, gasping breaths.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

A few more seconds pass, and then, “Grace.”

TK has to suppress a sob at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice—though, if he didn’t know for sure it was Carlos, he wouldn’t have recognised it. His words come out ragged and hoarse, riding on breaths that seem to be getting slower and more laboured by the second. TK clutches the phone tighter in his hand, biting down hard on his lip.

“It’s… It’s Carlos. I… Send help. Please.”

“Carlos, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

But Grace goes unanswered, and TK suddenly notices that he can no longer hear the sound of Carlos breathing. His own breaths hitch, his lungs refusing to expand properly, and his vision blurs with tears as he curls in on himself, hands braced on the edge of the bed and gripping tightly onto the covers.

He doesn’t notice Judd taking the phone back, nor is he aware of him moving to sit next to him until he’s being pulled into a strong embrace, TK’s head cradled against Judd’s chest. Judd whispers things TK doesn’t hear as his hands gently rub his back, the touch grounding him as he loses himself to tears and the overwhelming pain in his heart.

Five minutes later, TK’s phone rings.

Fifteen minutes after that, they arrive at the hospital.

*

“Please,” TK whispers, clutching onto the hand in both of his. “Please don’t make me do this. I don’t… I don’t want to live a life without you in it. I can’t, you understand me? I can’t. If you leave, I won’t survive it, so you just hang on for me, alright? Forget what the doctor thinks, you keep fighting, and come back to me. Please, Carlos. Please.”

TK looks up, hoping to see Carlos’s beautiful brown eyes staring right back at him, but of course they’re not. He might never see them again, which is something TK is still trying to wrap his head around. That’s not the only thing either; Carlos has so many injuries that he’s struggling to remember them all—the only thing he does remember with horrific clarity is the doctor’s words when he’d asked to speak to TK privately.

“We’ve done what we can, but I’m afraid Officer Reyes’s wounds are grave and there is a significant possibility that he may not make it beyond the next 48 hours. If he does, then we will re-evaluate, but currently his chances of recovery are slim. I’m truly sorry.”

TK wipes away a stray tear and presses a kiss to Carlos’s bruised knuckles. His other hand is completely shattered, and TK can barely stand to look at his face; it’s been beaten to a pulp, there’s a patch over one eye, and whoever attacked him even went so far as to rip out some of his teeth.

It’s grim, and that’s to say nothing of the rest of his body. Torture is the only word to describe what happened to Carlos—brutal, savage, and without mercy, somebody tortured him in their home.

And he was alone.

*

“Son, you didn't know.”

“That’s no excuse. I left him.”

“Carlos pushed you away. He was trying to protect you.”

“And where was I when he needed protection?”

“TK—”

“Don’t, Dad.”

*

“TK, I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Please, Mitchell. I need to know. Carlos knew something was going to happen but he chose to drive me away instead of letting me in. I just… I just want answers.”

“...I’ll see what I can do.”

*

Carlos makes it through the 48 hours, but not without incident. Somewhere around hour 32, the machines had started going haywire, summoning an army of doctors who shoved TK out of the room, leaving him to stare in through the blinds as they worked to save Carlos’s life.

They’d done it, but it had taken TK hours to come down from the resulting panic attack.

*

“Oh my god.”

Mitchell is standing at his shoulder, watching him warily as he flips through the file she brought him from the station. She keeps looking around anxiously, as if her sergeant is going to appear and arrest her for misconduct at any moment, but TK only has eyes for the images and words in front of him.

“Did you know about this?” he asks, gesturing to the myriad of threatening messages they’d apparently found in Carlos’s desk.

She shakes her head. “We noticed he’d been acting weird, but we figured something was going on between you two. He never said a word to anyone that I know of.” She pauses and sighs shakily, placing a comforting hand on TK’s shoulder. “We, um. We found some at your house, too. In Carlos’s nightstand.”

TK stares, first at Mitchell, then at the file, then at Carlos, still just as silent and motionless as he’s been since the day all this happened. “Why?” he breathes, and he doesn’t know which one of them he’s addressing the question to.

*

The doctors are amazed when they get to a week and Carlos’s heart is still beating. He still has a ventilator breathing for him and there’s still been no sign of him waking up, but he’s not giving up.

TK wants to say that he never doubted him, but he can’t ignore his paramedic training. He’d heard how badly Carlos was injured; he’d seen the crime scene photos and all the blood coating their bedroom.

(He’d needed several minutes in the bathroom to recover from that sight)

Much as he didn’t want to admit it, all the signs pointed to Carlos not making it.

But he’s still here. Still fighting. And TK can’t help but let that little bit of hope into his heart.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #judd ryder #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #📍 anon #userkimmy #userjillian #tuserjenny #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #reyeslonestartag #userbones

[ana-maa]

hii i don’t know if your requests are still open but if they are can i request 5 and 64 with alex turcotte??

5. “Let me bandage you up.” + 64. “I’ll hurt whoever did this to you.”

word count: 621

a/n: I actually got this request after I said my requests were closed but I just felt like I had to write this one so that's what I did! warning!! in this blurb the reader is having a very hard time at school (bullying) and I don't try to make light of the situation in any way with this blurb. I've been through similar things in life and know how it feels. If anyone of you experienced any type of bullying, I'm here for you, my messages are always open! Don't hesitate to reach out, you are loved!

-

I sigh when I look at myself in the mirror and realize I can’t go home in the streets of LA like this. My left knee and elbow looks messed up but I guess that’s what happens when you scrape them against the hard ground.

Embarrassed as never before I decided to give Alex a call and ask if there’s any chance he can come pick me up. I can’t call any of my friends since they don’t know about this and will probably ask me a thousand questions and there’s no way I will call mom.

“Hello?”

“Alex, are you busy?” I say as I try to stop my eyes from watering.

“Quinton is here but we were just chatting, what’s up? Is everything alright?”

I can't stop the tears from falling anymore. I try to be as quiet as possible even though I’m sure I failed. I take a deep breath as I try to calm down. Most of my school days are bad but I can’t remember a day as horrible as this one.

“Baby, talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Can you come pick me up, please?” I say, just to avoid all the possible questions he could ask for a minute.

“Of course baby. I’ll be there in ten minutes, alright?”

“I love you Alex.”

“I love you too y/n, I’ll see you soon.” He says before he hangs up.

I honestly don’t think ten minutes have passed when I see Alex's car pull up at the school's parking lot. Thank God he went here without Quinton, I think when I notice Alex is alone in the car.

I don’t even get the chance to make up a story about what happened before Alex is standing in front of me. At first he doesn't say anything. He just holds me in his arms and that’s when I realize I’ve never felt as safe as this.

“I’ll hurt whoever did this to you.” Alex says when we’re sitting in the car on our way home.

“I fell Alex.”

“Oh come on y/n, don’t give me that. I know there’s people treating you badly at school. I’ve heard you cry in the bathroom after school multiple times. I’ve seen bruises on your body baby. Please, you know you can talk to me.”

“Can we just get home first?”

“Yeah of course baby. Take your time.”

Before I know it, I’m sitting beside Alex on the couch at home. The room is quiet, too quiet. I don’t like this silence knowing that I’m the person who needs to break it. I feel the tears in my eyes form and this time I don’t try to stop them, I let them fall.

“Shh it’s okay baby. I’m here.”

I don’t know for how long I was laying there crying in Alex’s arms. All I know is that at some point I stopped crying and everything felt a little bit better for the moment.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it right now if you don’t feel comfortable doing that but you have to talk to someone at school. This can’t keep happening to you.”

“If I talk to the school, will you come with me?”

“Of course baby, you know that.”

I give him a slight smile as I try to remember what I ever did in life to deserve someone like Alex. He always knows how to make my bad days better.

“I’ve got an idea. Let me bandage you up and then we can order takeout and have a movie night, how does that sound?”

“I love you, thank you for being here.”

“Always y/n.” He says placing a kiss on my lips.

#alex turcotte #alex turcotte x reader #alex turcotte blurb #maddie writes