#I realized I hadn’t taken a breath since I started writing this so I took one

[jarofstyles]

Reaper 4

Hello my loves! Here is part 4 to Reaper! Pleaseeee let us know what you think!

WC:9.4k

Warnings: violence(some detailed), angst, mention of panic attack, stalking, blood, asshole Harry, etc!

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!

————

Today started off just like any other day for Bunny.

She and Harry had a bit of a morning routine that blossomed in the days they’d spent together. They’d wake up around the same time and Harry would silently pad into the kitchen and make her a cup of tea before she came to cook the two of them breakfast.

Since their moment in the kitchen, there was an unspoken tension that made every interaction that much more exciting. Y/N had of course been on her best behavior, not wanting to risk anything. Not even allowing herself to give him an extra kiss when he dropped her off at class.

Today was different though.

Harry had some business to take care of at the shop so he escorted her to class on his bike while she drove in her car. He’d told her a prospect was going to be there after class to follow her around town while she ran any errands she had been putting off and that he would meet her at the clubhouse at 6.

The news had left her slightly disappointed, but she knew she couldn’t be greedy with his time and attention no matter how needy she’d been feeling these past few days. She’d see him in the evening— it was the weekend as well. Y/N just needed to toughen up. She used to do this alone, didn’t she?

So naturally, when Y/N saw a pink post-it note stuck to her stirring wheel she thought it was a note from Harry. She had thought he wanted to surprise her, leave her with something since she wouldn’t be getting her after-school kiss.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Don’t you like playing with me, Y/N? You shouldn’t have betrayed me, you’re not safe with that scumbag. It’s okay, you’ll learn.

Ps. Thank you for the gift. You smell divine.”

Suddenly there was no air to breathe in her car. She checked the backseat and instantly locked the doors, the most unsettling feeling overcame her stomach. She couldn’t stop reading the note over and over.

He’d gotten into her car without setting off the alarm. Without the prospect seeing him. He’d been here, watching her with Harry.

With shaky hands, she reached for her phone, not even sure if she’d be able to get a word out, but she knew she had to call him. She promised she would.

“H-Harry…” Bunny didn’t realize she had started crying. “H-he,” Her breaths came out heavily, “he was in my car.”

Harry had picked up the phone, thinking it was her usual check-in. He had been finishing up paperwork in the office, sending invoices when he heard her ringtone and picked the phone up.

Immediately he knew something was wrong. Her cries had filled his ear and raised the alarm bells, but when what she said hit him, he stood up.

“What do you mean he was in your car?” He said lowly, walking towards the door. “What happened? When?” His head was spinning. Of course, they’d wanted to lure him out and catch him- but he hadn’t planned on boldness like this.

“There’s- there’s a note and he knows we’re together. He was in here, Harry. He took my chapstick. It was locked, it was locked and I had the key the whole time.” She stuttered, her sniffles infuriating him.

“Where the fuck is Cricket?” He snarled, stalking down the stairs from his office. Everyone in the garage turned and looked away from him as they knew that stomp wasn’t anything good. Harry felt rage burning in his gut- the prospect was supposed to be watching the car, watching her. Keeping an eye out. He should have approached, taken photos, anything except be silent.

“I don’t know. I don’t see his bike.” She said, sobering as she realized- he had left. The prospect had left her alone and in danger, she hadn’t been safe the whole time.

“He left?” Harry stopped as he got to his bike, the hot rage boiling in his blood. “He…. Fuck.” He hissed, throwing his leg over his bike. “Lock the doors, now. Stay in that car. Don’t open the door for anyone, and don’t touch the note. Stay there, Bunny. Do you understand me?” His snarl wasn’t the most comforting thing but right now all he could focus on was the anger. The panic in his chest. She had been left alone. Thank god she had gotten to her car unscathed, but what if she hadn’t?

It would be his fault. His fault for leaving an idiot prospect in charge of her. Viper had told him he had been capable and while he was a little immature, could handle a task like that.

He would be very regretful he left his post when Reaper got his hands on him.

“I’m on my way.” His cold tone was cut by the roar of his bike coming on. “Do as I said. Don’t fucking move.”

She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

She was frozen, body still in shock. Before she had been able to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, brush things off, but this was real. She couldn’t deny this, there was no other answer. He made it loud and clear.

The only thing that was keeping her grounded at the moment were the hot tears that trickled down her cheeks. What was she going to do? Who’s to say he wasn’t watching her now? What if he had a tracker? A camera?

It was hard to keep herself relaxed when all she could do was sit still and wait. The silence in the car was deafening, blocking all the sound from outside, all she could hear was the sound of her heart drilling in her ears.

Harry broke what he was sure were a lot of traffic laws trying to get to him, the internal rage building and building as the ride got closer. Usually riding made his anger dwindle, at least to an acceptable level- but with the idea of Bunny in danger?

It only made it worse.

His vision was tinted in red. For this creep who was stalking her, for Cricket, for himself. He couldn’t just trust anyone with her. No one without a patch was watching her from now on. The fucker better have been dying to have left his post, and even that wasn’t something he would be happy about accepting.

His bike tore into the parking lot, the loud roar of it turning a few heads as he appeared right next to her car. The helmet was ripped off of his head, tossed to the side as he got off.

“Open the door.”

Y/N jumped up a bit, having zoned out in a spiral of thoughts. She felt relieved that Harry was here, but right now he wasn’t the Harry she had grown comfortable with. This Harry looked like he was about to rip someone’s head off.

Clicking the button she let him pull open the door, not wanting to touch the handle in case there were any prints on it. However, if this man could break into her car without setting off the alarm she was sure he was smart enough to rid the car of any evidence.

Wiping her face quickly she locked eyes with him, trying to find some kind of comfort in them but all she managed to find was rage. Sure it wasn’t directed at her, but all she needed right now was a hug.

“Let me see the note.” He placed his hand over her shoulder, lowering his head to dip into the car. Her tears only infuriated him more.

Her shaky hand handed the note to him, watching his eyes scan over the handwriting. It disgusted him. Enraged him. Took everything in him to not rip it or crumble it up, instead tucking it into his pocket as his hand shook with the anger. He was having a hard time controlling himself.

“I can’t wait to send this fucker to hell.” He spit, clutching her car door as he scanned the parking lot. “I don’t know where Cricket went, but trust me, he will be dealt with. We need… we need to get to the fucking clubhouse.” He looked down at her. “Are you okay to drive?”

He would leave his bike here for now if need be. His head was scrambled and not right. When Harry got angry like this, he had a one-track mind, and it was focused on revenge. Finding this guy. “Need to get Wiz to scan your car for a tracker again. And I need to warn Viper that the prospect is going to be hospitalized at the very fucking least, and stripped of his consideration.”

“Drive?” She asked almost as if she didn’t believe he was asking her the question. Y/N was not in the state to drive. She was barely in a state to think, not having registered much of what Harry was saying to her.

“N-no, I wanna go home.”

It was the first time she had ever asked him for something, but she just wanted to feel safe again. Bunny thought her house was safe, it wasn’t. Thought her classes were safe, in public, they weren’t. Her car wasn’t safe now either. The only place she felt safe was at Harry’s, with him there.

Y/N wasn’t sure what answer to expect from him, but she was hoping he wouldn’t give her the same tone he had been speaking to her with. It was so unfamiliar, it felt like it wasn’t meant for her to hear.

“I know you do.” He said lowly. “But we need to get ahead of this shit, Y/N.”

Using her name like that seemed to make her upset but he was too irritated with the situation to clock it at the current moment. The red rage had been running up in his body and he was blinded by the need to take care of the logistical things first.

“Move to the passenger side.” He moved to his bike, not giving her the option to talk back as he grabbed his shit from the saddle bags and shoved it into her backseat. His irritation was palpable, his jaw sore from how hard he had been clenching but he needed it. He needed her to be safe and he needed to take revenge for her.

She was quiet as he sat down in the driver's seat, starting it up and backing out with a vengeance. He knew he was being a bit reckless but he wanted them out of there. He had a feeling that the fucker was waiting in the shadows, watching. He felt it on the back of his neck when he arrived.

Y/N wished she never left the bed this morning, but she knew that this was inevitable. The shoe had dropped and any happiness she had found in the past few days had been snatched up from under her. She was naive to believe it wouldn’t happen so quickly, it left her feeling even more helpless than she had when she first called Harry.

The last thing she wanted to do was get in the way of him finding the man who did this, but what would happen to her in the process? She had already caught herself getting nervous whenever she was outside of the house, already feeling paranoid even in the safety of Harry’s home.

She thought it was normal considering the spot she was in and Harry had been such a good at distraction. She was stupid to think that he would be attentive when it came to her feelings. To assume he could read her in times like these. It wasn’t in his nature. She knew that.

Bunny couldn’t stop toying with the zipper of her bag, unraveling the strings stitched into the fabric, mindlessly staring into a point in the dashboard. She wouldn’t feel anything if she just shut it off for a bit.

-

Pulling up to the clubhouse, he could still feel his rage simmering. Like in a pot ready to boil over, but trying his hardest not to go full on because Bunny was in the car.

“You’re safe here.” He reminded her as he turned off the car, looking at her. She looked a bit pale for her complexion, a little sickly, but he imagined she was probably upset too. He would deal with it later, and figure out how to make her feel safer. Right now? He was on a mission.

One of the traits Harry knew he had was a one-track mind. He wanted to get ahead of this before it got worse, wanted to find the man. There were cameras in the parking lot and he hoped Wiz could figure out how to hack into them.

His hand wrapped around Bunny’s stiff one as he nearly dragged her into the clubhouse, the slam of the door alerting the brothers that were here that he had arrived. And he wasn’t happy.

“Someone better fucking tell me that Cricket is dead.” He said lowly. “And if he isn’t? He will be soon.” His voice was ice, frosting up the room as the other prospects stiffened up. “No more patchless fuckers watching my girl. Where the fuck is Viper?”

“Right here, brother.” The tall man walked into the room with a brow raised, arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck’s your problem?” He asked, looking between Reaper and Bunny. “You okay, little rabbit?” His demeanor softened as he could see she was in a state, but Harry beat her to it.

“Course she fucking isn’t. Cricket fucked off and the creep left a note in her car. Her locked car.” He snarled. “Where is Wiz? I need him to check the cameras and her fucking car to make sure the son of a bitch hasn’t put shit on it.” He felt like a caged dog, nowhere to put this aggression he felt. “Just letting you know, the kid is getting his ass kicked. Hope to fuck he doesn’t show up here again.”

Viper agreed with Harry on this one. The club had vowed to protect their own and Bunny was their top priority— if anyone left her in danger, prospect or not, they’d be punished.

The club was used to seeing Harry in this state, to them, this was perfectly normal and they handled him with ease. They knew what not to say and how to say things the right way to keep him as relaxed as they could, but no one could ever curb his aggression.

“I’ll send Wiz out now.” Viper nodded, knowing better than to tell the Reaper to calm down though he wanted to for the sake of the girl standing beside him. There had been a few occasions where they had tried to contain him, but each time ended in hospital visits… that one time, death.

It was better not to get in his way when he saw red. Once his mind was set on someone, they rarely made it out alive. He fought to kill. It’s why they called him Reaper.

“Wait- Cricket?” Bulldog raised a brow. “The boy’s in one of the rooms out back. Brought a girl back- probably doing god knows what. Didn’t know he was supposed to be on duty for Bunny.”

Harry’s head whipped to the side, looking at Bulldog with his cold eyes. Bunny, unlike the rest of them, was not used to seeing this from him. As much as she knew he wasn’t ever going to harm her? It was a bit scary. The temperature in the room went down a few degrees as she looked at him.

So beautiful, so so angry. He was like a carved marble statue with his sharp lines and hard eyes, the only indications he wasn’t being the stubble and the scars.

“He left post for some fucking pussy?” He hissed, breathing picking up. His face was something she hadn’t ever seen, a new side of him. “Viper? Will you keep Bunny company for a moment?” He asked, the red clouding his vision again.

“Sure, brother.” He gently motioned for her to come over to him, though when Harry stalked off wordlessly she went to follow. “No, no. You don’t want to see him like that, little rabbit. Trust me.”

Harry was ruthless, and there was supposed to be a pact in this brotherhood. Had she gotten physically harmed? Harry would kill him.

The metal door swung open with a bang, the sound of a girl’s shriek was the last thing Y/N heard when she and Viper turned the corner.

Harry was snarling, eyes zeroing in on the motherfucker he’d left to take care of his precious Bunny. He walked over and used his last speck of patients on the young woman before him.

“If you give a fuck about your mental health, get out of here.” He commanded, breath still heavy and laced with anger. Harry knew she had nothing to do with this, this cocky prospect thought he could reap the benefits of the club having shit to show for it.

The girl simply nodded and ran towards the door, snatching her clothes up from the floor on the way out.

“You leave my woman for some pussy?” He said lowly. Harry could feel some of his brothers come up from behind him, knowing they’d pull him off when he’s had enough- but seeing the shocked look on the man’s face really didn’t help. He scrambled up from the bed and backed up as Harry stalked towards him.

“Left her all alone while the fucking creep following her left notes in her car?” He tilted his head, irritation floating through his system. “Decided to be a selfish fuck and abandon your post that Viper assigned you, have the Fuckin’ balls to come back and use a room you aren’t even patched in to use?” His hand wrapped around the man’s throat, not caring about his lack of clothing besides boxers.

“I- I didn’t think it would be a big deal!” He squeaked like a stupid rat, Harry’s hand slamming him up against the wall. “No one has shown up for days!”

“That’s what we wanted, you worthless piece of shit.” Harry spit. “The freak got into my woman’s car. Left her a note. Went through her shit. Had the time to do that because you found some subpar pussy and fucked off. You think you’re going to get patched in now?” His humorless laugh echoed in the room.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again-” he choked as Harry’s grip on his throat tightened. The man was terrifying, eyes so dark they didn’t even look the green they usually were. They all had a clue where he got his road name from, but being in the Reaper’s warpath was not something anyone wanted.

“You think…” He tightened, “I give,” tighter, “a fuck?” Harry watched as the man squirmed, his face changing color from the lack of oxygen. “You’re lucky that I’m even letting you breathe again.” Harry spat in the man’s face, only then letting go.

He moved his hand to grab the back of Cricket’s head by his hair, slamming his face into the wall with one swift movement. He picked his head back up only to repeat the motion, chuckling as the man groaned in pain.

“How pathetic. You think this is some hot shot club? Isn’t a fucking game?” Harry pulled his head back again, the man screaming in his grip.

“I kill people like you every day. I don’t care.” He pulled him back, tugging roughly at his hair before throwing him over the back of the bed.

Harry knew he needed to get out of there before he killed the guy, he already struggled with letting go when he was choking him.

Bunny could hear the screams, sitting stiffly at the bar as Viper handed her some water.

“Don’t focus on that.” He said quietly, breaking her focus. “The good news is, if there are any cameras nearby, Wiz will be able to get into the feed and we’ll have eyes on him. I’m sorry though.” He sighed.

The older man obviously felt bad that she had to go through shit like this. And the fact Reaper was being… Reaper.

“My car was locked.” She said quietly, swirling her straw around the water. “I double-check every single day. Even before this, I locked it. I don’t know how he could have gotten in.” It was something she was focusing on.

“Unfortunately there are ways, darlin’. That’s why we’re gonna make sure you aren’t unattended today. We don’t allow people like that in the club. They can do what they want on their own time… but abandoning a post, watching a brother’s woman for some….” He paused. “Sex? It’s fucked up. No other way to put it. Can’t blame Reaper for taking care of him.”

“Will he kill him?” Y/N peeped quietly, unsure if she wanted to know the answer. She was aware he had said he had before but hearing it and being near where it potentially could be happening were two different things. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“Nah. He probably wants to but it isn’t worth it to him. The feds, all of that. If the creep had gotten to you physically, yeah. I’d probably help him. But he’s just getting kicked out and his ass kicked.”

Y/N could understand why Viper was the boss now. He was level-headed, stuck to his morals, knew how to handle people. She was already feeling better than she had when she arrived, but now a different feeling was creeping in.

Viper’s eyes shifted to look behind her just as she felt a presence coming up from behind.

Harry didn’t want to touch her, not when his hand were covered in blood. Instead, he shuffled past them to the sink, washing his hands as tried to ground himself from his rage.

He was still breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through his body. Harry really would have done severe brain damage if the guys hadn’t pulled him off. Fucker learned his lesson. Would never show up or snitch. For his sake, Harry hoped he knew better.

Bunny busied herself with drinking water, making herself small in the seat in hopes that he would pity her in this state.

He looked feral.

She had never seen him like this. Washing blood off of his hands, heavy breathing, stiff as a board. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, try and comfort him- but she knew better.

There was no comfort from this. He was angry and it radiated off of him in waves.

“Did Wiz find anything?” He grunted.

“Wiz did, thank you very much.” The man himself walked in, glasses perched on his nose as he placed the laptop on the bar in front of Bunny. Harry crowded behind her, hovering over her with his arm leaning on the wood top.

The footage began to play. A man, thin and willowy approached the car. A hood and mask disrupted the look, making sure that you couldn’t make out his full face. He took out a key fob and clicked it, opening her car.

“Do you have two keys?” Wiz asked. “I know the dealer will offer a spare and I’m just assuming that maybe since he had gotten into your home, he found it.” She could tell it looked something very similar to hers. But with the grainy footage, he couldn’t tell.

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed, realizing where she had the key stored away. “In my ma’s beside table.” The thought made her feel physically ill. This guy had snooped not just in her room but her mothers?

This man was stooping to new lows with every item of information she learned about him.

“W-what else do you think he has?” Bunny asked, “I really don’t want her getting hurt—“ She had already told her mother about the situation back when she first moved to Harry’s. It’s a shame her mother understood far too well.

Her dad was once a Devil’s Keeper too.

“We can come around and arrange new security for your place, can get Saw to install some new locks, and maybe even get those windows properly secured.” Viper offered up with no hesitation. “We won’t let either of you get hurt, little rabbit. We’re taking care of her too.”

“It’s not her he’s after,” Harry grunted, flexing his hands. They stung a little but it was numbed by the information he just got. He had a key to her damn car.

“No more of your car. You’ll take one of mine.” He decided then and there. “We’ll leave it here.” They could have someone drop them off at home and he’d get Bulldog to grab his bike for him and drive it back.

When she looked at him, he expected an argument. “No arguments. If he can get in there, he can hide in the back. We can’t do that, Y/N.” Again, her real name. It felt so impersonal it made her recoil, the harshness of his tone. Like he had been expecting her to be sassing him and fighting it.

“Relax, Reaper. I know you’re worked up but you’ve got to remember who you’re talking to.” Viper warned. Harry did not listen. Instead, he walked off to find keys for one of their cars. His headspace was not one of comfort right now. It was of rage and coming down from a beating he wished could have been a murder. But whatever.

“Let’s go. We’re going home.” Harry muttered as if it was an order, waiting for Bunny to start walking towards the garage. He didn’t need viper on his case now too.

Y/N bit her tongue. Giving a look to viper that signaled she’d be alright and began walking towards the garage without paying any attention to Harry. It was not time for snarky remarks and being a brat— she knew she wouldn’t be happy with anything he said while in this headspace.

So she sat silently the entire ride home, letting Harry calm down while the faint sounds of deftones came through the speakers.

What was he thinking? Was he so blinded by his rage that he forgot all that they were? Or was this him showing his true colors? Y/N didn’t want to think the worst of him, for a long time, she had been the only one fighting his corner besides Sterling. Maybe he just didn’t realize it.

—-

They arrived back at his place, Harry shuffling her inside before arming the security system. He was irritated and tired and he needed a fucking shower desperately.

“Please go eat something.” His tone had softened its bite, but he was still in his own head. “I’m taking a shower. I’ll be back.”

His thoughts were focused on the creep. The man stalking her. How he could ruin him, end up. Beating up Cricket hadn't even quenched his thirst for how badly he wanted to ruin him, how he wanted to make him suffer. He wanted him to feel even more terrified than Bunny had been.

The phone call had sent panic up his spine. Knowing she was vulnerable with that man… wasn’t part of the plan. Sure, they were trying to draw him out. But not when she was unprotected.

He let the shower relax some of his muscles as the sweat, grease and leftover blood swirled down the drain leaving his skin bare. His hands flexed, seeing the new bruises and wounds but not really caring. He would take on worse to take vengeance.

The steamy bathroom was his hiding place for a few minutes as he got ready to go back out there. To see Bunny. The guilt he felt wallowed up in his throat, knowing that he hadn’t pushed harder for better people to protect her. The softness of his sweatpants moved up his leg, he plotted how to proceed. How she wasn’t going to like that he wanted to keep her under even more strict protection.

In all honesty, Bunny didn’t know what to think.

She couldn’t remember when exactly he started talking to her, the sound of her own thoughts far too loud to register the sound of Harry’s low rumble.

“Are you listening?” He asked, his shift in tone snapping Y/N out of her bubble.

“Sorry.” She muttered, adjusting her spot on the couch. Y/N had spent the last half an hour sitting on the couch staring off into the one book that was off-center on his shelf. It didn’t really matter what she was looking at when she was going on and on, thinking about what she could have done to have this happen to her.

She knew the answer was nothing. This sick fuck was after her and now it was a game.

“Did you eat?” He questioned, letting out a sigh as she shook her head no. “Y/N, it’s not the time—“

He paused as she looked a bit sick. He had wanted to snap again, get angry she wasn’t taking care of herself. Not only did he feel like an all-around failure but he felt anger towards the man following her, anger towards the ex-prospect he had beaten to a pulp, and anger at the world. But he saw that look, the faraway look on her soft face that didn’t belong there.

“Hey.” He softened his tone. “You need to eat something at least. I’ll grab something for you but you need to take care of yourself. Don’t let this fucker take away this part of your power.”

It was awkward. Harry wasn’t the comforting type, nor did he know how to apologize for being angry at her when he knew realistically it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know the dangers of the world, she didn’t know how truly serious this shit could be.

But he also was angry because she hadn’t wanted to reach out to him. Even at the first sign of something off he would want that. But she was afraid he would get mad? Yell at her. He hadn’t done much to show her any different.

The conflicting emotions and thoughts made his headache, the sting making him pinch the spot between his brows as he leaned his head down.

“I’m making a frozen pizza. The stuffed crust one. You’ll eat some”.

In a weird way, it was him showing affection. Knowing that it was a guilty pleasure of hers, despite how nongourmet it was. They’d gotten one at the store, and he couldn’t think of a more appropriate time.

She didn’t want the stupid frozen pizza.

Any other day she would have leaped at the idea, might have gobbled up the whole pie all on her own but right now she felt more like a caged animal, and not in the way Harry had. It was like he’d been feeding her, watching her before bedtime without addressing anything.

Like how he’d been calling her by her name so comfortably as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Or how he shut her up to focus on pinning his rage on some horny prospect who failed at doing his one job.

The sound of the plate against the coffee table once again pulled her from her thoughts. Y/N almost couldn’t believe she’d been sitting in the same position long enough for the pizza to cook.

Y/N looked up at his expectant face, waiting for her to take a bite. She swore it was the same guy from this morning. The same guy who she slept beside every night, who had kissed her forehead before class, the same guy whose cock she sucked just a few feet from where she was sitting now.

She didn’t think it would bother her now if he had shown even a hint of pity for her. A simple touch.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I want you to eat.”

He felt uncomfortable. It was rare for him, considering the shit he had dealt with had made him a bit unshakable. He was uncomfortable with how she looked like she was staring into the void, avoiding his eyes, quiet as a mouse. She was never quiet. She always was making noise, banging pots in the kitchen, giggling at her phone, talking to him about a show or school… Doing… something.

Bunny wasn’t quiet.

“You’re worrying me. It’s your favorite and you haven’t eaten since breakfast which was a banana.” He remembered her grabbing one on the way out. His face was one of concern, brows furrowed together as he tried to figure out how to get her to just eat and soothe a few of his nerves.

She could only shake her head, not trusting her voice to answer as her eyes started to well up with tears. It would be a snarky remark anyway, wouldn’t help with the situation. He was worried, but she felt like it was for all the wrong reasons.

Taking in a shaky breath she got up, quickly making her way toward the bedroom to have a moment to herself. She didn’t want to cry in front of him again, to think she was weak. It had been hours since the incident but the gut-wrenching feeling hadn’t eased up. She was on edge, her body beginning to shake as the tears she had been holding back finally freed themselves.

Y/N sank down against the door, a violent sob ripping through her. The reality was this wasn’t going to end soon, that this would get worse before it got better, and Harry… well he hadn’t even considered how this would affect her psychologically.

Nothing could have prepared her for the wash of paranoia, the flashbacks to times when she thought she was potentially being watched. He was in her car.

Where else had he been? What else had he seen?

She could hear his footsteps behind her a few seconds later, calling her name in a confused tone as he stopped and wiggled the handle only to find weight in front of the door.

Harry was panicked. Really, he didn’t know what to do in these situations. Why was she crying? Because of the stalker? He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly had caused this break in her, but he didn’t like the squeezing of his heart as he waited outside the door with his hand against it.

“Bunny- let me in. Please. What’s wrong?” The edge was in his voice, nerves audible as he felt unsteady. How did he fix this? He didn’t know how to make her feel better or even the source of it fully, his hand knocking again.

Was she hurt? Did something else happen she didn’t tell him about? His mind was swimming with possibilities, none of them good.

“Can you talk to me? I don’t…” he kicked the floor. “I don’t like knowing you’re upset and not being able to help. What is wrong? Can I help?” It was okay, he thought. One moment she was quietly sitting there, albeit unsettled, and now she was letting out gut-wrenching sobs that made his fists clench.

“C’mon, angel. Let me see you.”

Bunny couldn’t silence her sobs despite her attempts at muffling them against her hands. He couldn’t just leave her alone for a moment to feel. He hadn’t all day. It seemed he had been prepared for everything but this.

Y/N let a few moments pass as she collected her breathing once again, knowing she could hold it in for only so long. Swiping the tears from under her eyes and nose, Bunny picked herself up off the hardwood floor to open the door.

Harry hadn’t made that face in years. She swore she had only seen it a handful of times in moments when she couldn’t previously tell Sterling the matter. This time he looked far more perplexed as if he was struggling to read her. Trying to understand.

“Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong?” She dared to ask, a sniffle softening the blow of her tone. Bunny was definitely upset, the rage, however, was a look that he recognized. Harry had seen it plenty of times in the eyes of his enemies and for lack of a better term, haters. He’s never seen such anger in a woman’s eyes. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being on the receiving end of it.

“I…” he swallowed, searching her face. “There’s a few things you could be upset about, Bunny. So I have to ask what it is.”

The thing about Harry was that he was a bit oblivious when it came to emotions. To feelings. Y/N knew that. That didn’t mean it hurt any less when he was accidentally an asshole.

He was hesitant, stepping further into the room and closing the door. Was that anger reserved for the stalker? For Cricket? For him? He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing at her, everything in her body language screaming at him to stay away.

“You’re angry. At the stalker, yeah?” He kept his tone soft though his conviction wasn’t strong. He wasn’t sure what she was angry at. It was just very odd to see her like this. Her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks hurt his heart.

“Obviously, yeah!” She groaned, letting herself get up to start pacing the room. She wanted to take her mind off of this, but he just needed to know. “Can’t do anything about that but sit back and wait. You said your guys would handle it. I trust that.” She wasn’t denying the help.

“Is it not enough for me to just… be upset?” Y/N turned to face him, “Everything got so real so quickly and I’m just supposed to get used to it and carry on, yeah?” It made her feel small saying that, but he wanted to know so she’d tell him.

“You wanna help me so bad, maybe listen to me when I say I’m feeling something. Know you’re stressed but it’s not my fault this is happening, it’s already burdening enough.” She felt her eyes well up but she quickly swallowed them down.

“You really hurt my feelings today. Just thought maybe even for a second you could just be there. Like actually be there and not Reaper.”

Harry’s brows wrinkled, his jaw clenching as he went to open his mouth, shutting it again. He couldn’t understand what she meant. A burden? When the fuck had he even implied that?

His anger stemmed from the creep that was following her. Sure he was irritated she hadn’t told him sooner, hurt, even, but she wasn’t the cause of his actions today. In fact, it was the way she had been neglected by someone he had said ok to protect her.

“Hold on for a second.” He said, raising a hand. “You aren’t a Fuckin’ burden. I’ve never said that, nor would I. You’re far from it. I’ve been pissed all day because you trusted me to protect you and someone let you be accessible. In my name.” He exhaled sharply.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was trying to take care of business, Bunny.” He stressed. “It wasn’t to… to make you feel bad or anything. I was so angry that the fucker had gotten to you, that Cricket had left his goddamn post I couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t to hurt your feelings.” He ran his hand through his hair, allowing himself a step closer. “I never, not once, blamed you for my stress. I took this head-on because I fuckin’ care about you. I wouldn’t throw that shit in your face.”

“I didn’t say that either.” She countered, “You know you can take care of business and still show me compassion— I” Bunny let out a frustrated sigh, “I know you didn’t mean it but it felt like it anyway. Kept calling me Y/N, felt like I was a kid getting in trouble. As if you were a stranger.”

She wasn’t sure if she was making much sense but she wanted him to understand.

It was a slight change in his usual tone with her the moment he arrived, the lack of gentleness and how his eyes commanded her instead of watching her for clues like they usually did.

“You told me this wasn’t going to be an easy process, I know that. But you let me into your home, let me lean on you whenever I needed anything and I needed you today and it's like you didn’t even care until you heard me crying and I really don’t need your pity.”

She was irritated and tired and emotionally exhausted. All she wanted was his affection before, she wanted to be held and told it would be okay. Obviously, Harry wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, but she wished he could just lighten up. Give her something to work with.

“I’m sorry.” He grunted. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were getting in trouble. I wasn’t thinking about how you’d take that stuff- it’s just…” he tugged on his hair. “It’s really fucking hard when you’re emotionally connected to someone you’re trying to protect.” He stressed. “Usually we’re hired for this shit. There’s no… coddling, comforting, none of that. We get in, eliminate the threats, and then we’re done. We guard with little emotional connection. When it’s you?” He stressed the word. “Feels like every damn misstep is gonna choke me. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” He finally placed his hands on her shoulders, making her eyes meet his.

“You get me? If I didn’t do the shit I did today, I’d be pacing around like a caged animal. I’m still fuming. It’s fucked up, yeah, but it’s how I am. I’m sorry I didn’t comfort you, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings but…” he tilted his head up to collect himself for a moment before rolling it back down, catching her watery eyes.

“It isn’t something I could let go. You don’t communicate with me either, Bunny. You didn’t tell me. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have noticed but you’ve got to try n’understand, my head is rolling too. You’re in danger and I want to help you, I’m going to, I just need you to be blunt with me. Like how you are now.”

“I tried to tell you!” She muttered, but there was no power behind her words. She had enough of this, emotionally burnt out, blinking quickly to try and stop the tears from rolling but it wasn’t much help.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” She knew it wasn’t worth fighting over anymore. It was late and she needed rest. She felt on edge still, like there were eyes were still on her.

Harry didn’t really like her answer, knowing there was something more but was too nervous to push further. Had he gotten too caught up? He told her it would be like this. She was aware of what he was capable of.

“Did I scare you?” He asked suddenly, stopping his own train of thought to wait for her answer.

Harry knew that he was intimidating. He was very much so, considering his road name was quite literally a symbol of death, he was no stranger to violence himself. He’s grown up in it.

Y/N, though, hadn’t. His little Bunny had been sheltered from it all until recently. It had been on purpose from both him and her brother, making sure the ugly parts of their lives didn’t touch her. It seemed that now, though, it had all been in vain.

“I never wanted you to see me like that. M’sure… it wasn’t the most comforting thing, to see me like that. But I need to know if I actually scared you.” He swallowed the lump in his throat despite his dry mouth, gently pulling her back to him.

That would be something he’d never forgive himself for. Anyone else in the world had a reason to fear him, but Bunny? She didn’t have a single reason to have a drop of fear. She was safe from him, she was protected. The one person who should always count on his gentleness.

Y/N shook her head with a definite no. He hadn’t scared her, but he wasn’t exactly the friendliest in that state.

“You didn’t… but I didn’t recognize you and that was scary.” She swallowed thickly, wiping her own tears away while trying to keep eye contact with him. Bunny had nothing to lose, she had nothing to hide from him. The feeling was uncomfortable, slightly embarrassing like she was ashamed to be so open with him emotionally.

“Felt like I couldn’t talk to you… so I wanted to let you know, I didn’t like it.” She finished and took another deep breath in a form of self-soothing, hands fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. It reminded her of the part of her that didn’t even want to wear the skirts anymore. The thought of prying eyes made her regret her fashion choices now more than ever.

Having her privacy invaded made everyday tasks flood her body with anxiety. How long would it be till they caught this guy? How much more was she going to see before they did?

He exhaled heavily as he watched her close in on herself. The poor thing had been through the damn ringer and he surely didn’t help, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to fix any damage he had made. It was weird to see her like this. Suffocating. How he managed to be oblivious before was probably because of the blindness his sheer rage for the man had caused. He had failed to see he neglected the main person he was angry for.

“M’sorry.” He said quietly. “It’s a part of who I am but I didn’t want you to see it. It’s… hard to control myself.” It wasn’t an excuse, no, but it was at least maybe an explanation. It was hard to see her so sad, so shaken up.

He just wanted to fix it.

Harry didn’t give a fuck about many people, but Y/N had wiggled her way into his chest and set up camp. He had been trying to prevent it but it was undeniable now. Maybe that’s why it made him unreasonably angry. It felt extremely personal.

“How do I fix it?”

There wasn’t much she wanted from him but for him to just relax and be himself with her. Something to remind her that it wasn’t always going to be like this.

“Can we lay down?” Bunny was almost afraid to ask, “just want a normal night.”

There was nothing that soft bedsheets and comfy pajamas couldn’t fix. Of course, she had been wearing lots of skimpy clothes around the house and it was comfortable, but today she just wanted to be.

“Can I have one of your shirts please?” They were far more worn in and comfy than anything in her duffle bag, that’s for sure. She made her way to the bathroom to take off her makeup and freshen up, splashing her face with some cold water to help with the heat in her face.

She walked out to see him already in bed, waiting for her as if he was waiting for her next directions.

Harry felt like he was walking on eggshells. He’s never been good at all of this, the comforting, but he was itching to touch her. For some normalcy. His shirt hung on her body as she exited the bathroom, her hair tied up on her head and her legs bare.

He watched her pass him, grab the television remote and turn it on the food network before shutting the lights off and climbing into the bed next to him. His hands folded in front of him as his eyes watched her every move.

“Good?” He murmured, watching her submerge herself in a blanket sea. Her body was covered, head resting on the pillow and her sudden turn away from him made him wince- though not undeserved.

“Can you hold me?” She felt shy as the words fell from her mouth, though the covers helped comfort her. There was a reason she had turned around before asking.

She didn’t want to look at him, she knew it would just create more feelings. Feelings she was trying to suppress but was failing at. Ever since the night, she sucked him off in his kitchen, she felt like she couldn’t get close enough to him.

It was his intimacy she craved, but she couldn’t exactly say it so bluntly. It made her forget everything. He had asked her to be blunt but she was too afraid to make any moves. Not when he had shown her exactly how much it pains him to be teased.

It was probably the last thing he expected, but she felt him shift. The bed made a rustling sound as he placed his phone into the charger and shift onto his side, scooting up to her and gently placing his arm around her waist.

He didn’t know what to expect and it surely hadn’t been this request but he would happily provide some affection if it meant she would relax. His hand rested over her stomach, the heat of it bleeding through the thinner fabric as he pulled her into his body.

“M’sorry, Bunny.” He murmured, leaning down to test his luck with planting a kiss behind her ear. “I’m gonna keep you safe.” She didn’t reply right away. The low murmur of the tv filled the space, the light bouncing off the wall with the different frames but all he could do was listen to her breathing.

He should have done this to begin with, but he’d let the rage overcome everything else. It wasn’t something he should have done at all, but he was going to do his damn best now to make up for it.

“This alright? Want me to move at all?”

A gentle wave of heat and excitement came over her before it started to dissolve in a feeling of warm lingering comfort. Her hand rested over his, fingers locking over his in an attempt to be closer.

The low vibration of his words made her eyes flutter shut, the gentle kiss making the hair stand up on her neck. She was so reactive to him, it wasn’t really helping her with her angry mood. Bunny was softening up by the second in his arms, but she wouldn’t dare ask for more.

Did he know that he could have her however he wanted? It wasn’t often that she could get a man to hear her out, that someone like Harry could actually take a step back and listen to her.

She hoped this wasn’t a one-time thing, hoped he would continue showing her the softness he was showing now. Was she asking for too much? They did say they were pretending, right?

She stopped pretending a long time ago. Come to think of it, she didn’t even remember starting.

—-

Harry woke up to an empty bed.

Something that usually sent relief through him had him stiffening, feeling nervous and panicked for a few moments before hearing the television playing out in the living area and the clink of ceramic. The smell of coffee permeated the space, cluing him into why the bed was empty.

A peek at the clock on the nightstand made him realize it was only 6 in the morning, way too fucking early for Bunny to be up. She couldn’t sleep, it seemed. That wouldn’t do.

He stretched with a grunt, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and padding out of the room to see Bunny at the kitchen counter, flipping through a cookbook she had brought from school. Her body was covered in his shirt and this time, joined by a dark brown knit cardigan from the depth of his hall closet. Cozy and soft, she looked inviting and Harry’s sleepy mind couldn’t help but indulge. Especially with how she had asked for his comfort yesterday, he took a hint.

Arms wrapped around her waist, his nose nudging her neck as he rubbed himself against the hot skin. She’d jumped slightly, relaxing into his hold as she placed the coffee on the countertop.

“You’ve never been an early riser.” He mumbled against her, the cool morning air not agreeing with him. She should be back in bed, however delightful the scene of her in his kitchen was. “Can’t sleep?”

He was so warm.

Hot breath paired with the morning raspiness made her feel weak in the knees. Thankfully, she’d been leaning against the counter. Her eyes fell shut, allowing herself to lean back into him only slightly.

“Too nervous.” She continued her honest streak, though it was a bit of a lie. She had woken up because she was a bit shaken, but she couldn’t fall asleep again with how closely snuggled up she was. If anything it just made her want to be closer to him, skin to skin, maybe even more.

“Were you worried?” Y/N asked teasingly, he could hear the smile on her face. The coffee was long forgotten now, her hands finding their place over his. She decided to let herself indulge in the fantasy, it was the least she could do for herself.

“Yes.” He said quietly. He was worried beyond belief. For a few moments, he realized she was gone and hadn’t placed her yet, he was terrified something went wrong and the creep had gotten inside the place and she had left without telling him.

“It’s ok to be nervous. But you’re safe. Should come back to bed. Too fuckin’ cold out here.” He pulled her further into him, hands grasping under her sweater so he could warm his digits between the layers.

It was so quiet out here besides the tv. She had put it on for background noise, terrified of hearing whatever could be lurking out there. Her head leaned back and rested against him, shivering a little when he pressed another kiss to her skin.

“See? Too cold.” He began to walk backward. “Too early. Come back. Don’t have to sleep. Or talk. Just…” he took a breath, one she could feel against her back. “Don’t be doing anything that’s too far from me. I’ve of t’call and cancel my shit for today anyways.”

For a second she thought she was still dreaming. It all felt too good to be true, he was staying home today?

She didn’t want to get her hopes up, she knew he would likely be busy working and keeping an eye on her. Lately, she had been feeling anxious about leaving the house, so when she wasn’t in class she was usually at home finding ways to occupy herself.

It was rare that he joined her for anything other than meals or just for a few hours before bedtime, so it would feel like a little treat to get to spend the day with him.

A giggle escaped her lips as he began pulling her from the counter and back to the bedroom, her hands grabbing the remote just in time to turn the tv off before they were down the hall and in his bedroom again.

The smell was enough to have her relaxing, letting Harry place her wherever he wanted her.

Harry may be an asshole, but he was an asshole who tried to learn and make up for his mistakes. Guilt still sweltered in his chest as he felt her happily be dragged into the bedroom again.

Right now, it was making her feel safe. That was his only goal. Keeping her here and happy and relaxed the best he could considering he had been so preoccupied. She needed a break and so did he.

Once he got her into the bed again, cardigan on the floor, blankets over their bodies, lights off, he asked her one of his only requests of the day.

“I know you’ve got classes but… I really think you should stay home today.” He approached it cautiously. “You’re still a bit sensitive, didn’t sleep… I don’t feel comfortable sending you off where he had just felt comfortable getting in your car.”

She could see on his face that he was trying to not be overbearing. It was coming from a place of care, a spot of concern. Her nails played with the necklace twisted up, untangling it as he spoke. There was an intimacy to it, but a hesitation to look up at him.

“I don’t want to make it worse but… I think you need a break.”

“I won’t go today… but I don’t want him to think he got to us,” Y/N explained, still focused on the necklace. “I-I just have this feeling in my stomach like he’s going to pull something and I don’t know what it is but it doesn’t feel good.”

The moment she read the note she knew it was just the beginning. She wasn’t sure what message she wanted to send, but Harry was right, she needed at least one day.

It pained her to miss classes, she genuinely loved her classmates and loved cooking. It was fun every day. She felt completely free and at ease, for the hours she was in that building. Harry did have more experience with stalkers though. Maybe he did know best.

“I-I don’t want to be here by myself though and I know you’re really busy, so I really don’t have a problem with going— it will give you time to do things still.”

“M’not gonna leave you alone. I’m staying with you.” He murmured, frowning slightly. Of course, he understood the assumption but he wished she would have the opposite. That she would just think he would drop everything for her.

“I’m not going to let him get to you, love. I hope you know that. M’not gonna let him hurt you.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “I know I’ve been a bit shit at this so far, but I’d rather have my hand cut off than let him get anywhere near you. I’ll take him out as soon as I can. But for today… let’s just sit here and recharge.”

She had an extremely rough day yesterday and part of him really wanted to make it up to her, while the other half simply wanted her to rest. Who knew what the stalker was going to pull next?

All he knew was that he was going to take care of her.

#reaper #harry styles x reader #reaper harry #Reaperry #biker!harry #biker Harry #mc Harry #motorcycle club!Harry #jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #Harry styles dark #dark Harry #dark Harry styles #harry styles one shots

[hearts-hunger]

with your head on my shoulder || danny wagner x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: You have a bad dream, and Danny's there to take care of you. | Standalone fic in the Four Weddings universe

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader | Genres: fluff, hurt/comfort, slight angst | Word Count: 1.7k | Warnings: none! | Title song: “Strawberry Wine” by Noah Kahan

A/N: Of course Danny and Sunny are what gets me out of this writing dry spell! This is just pure fluff with no plot to speak of, but I hope you like it ♡

You woke with a start, heart pounding, your breath catching in your chest. You sat up in bed and tried to find anything familiar in the darkness of your room, needing to ground yourself on something other than the horrible images racing through your mind.

You made yourself take a deep breath. It was only a nightmare. You were safe in your own bed; despite the storm that sent heavy rain against your window, everything was quiet and peaceful. You were home, and you knew Danny was close by. You were safe.

Those realizations, as comforting as they were, didn’t erase the fear of the nightmare. Your heart was still racing, adrenaline making you ill; you wished you weren’t alone in your bedroom. But Danny was sleeping on the couch, driven out of your bedroom by a fight you’d started.

You felt awful now for what you’d said. It had been so stupid, so needlessly unkind; you’d been tired and frayed from a long, frustrating day at work, and you’d taken it out on him. Instead of being sweet to him when he came home, you’d started in on him for how late he was, and it had quickly escalated from there.

You’d stormed off to bed, and he hadn’t joined you. Now, when you wanted to go to him for comfort, you didn’t know if he’d even want to talk to you.

You walked quietly out to the living room and saw Danny asleep on the couch, as comfortable as he could get with his lanky limbs either scrunched close or hanging off the edge. You felt a pang of guilt as you looked at him; you should have been the one to sleep on the couch, since you’d started the fight in the first place. You bit your lip and debated just going back to your bedroom, wondering if he’d be even more upset with you if you woke him.

Lightning flashed outside, and all thought of going back to your bedroom alone went right out the window. You fairly flew to Danny’s side, unsettled and frightened and needing comfort.

“Danny,” you said softly, standing by the couch and nervously twisting the fabric of his t-shirt you were wearing.

He turned his head towards you. “Wassa matter?” he mumbled. 

“Danny,” you said again, a little desperately.

His eyes fluttered open, and worry and surprise colored his sleepy expression when he saw you.

“Sunny?” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m — ” All of a sudden, seeing him look up at you with such care and concern, you felt terrible for waking him over something so silly. You wrestled with regret and wanted to be close to him so badly you ached with it.

“I — I’m fine,” you managed. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

You turned to go, but he took your wrist in a gentle grip to make you stay.

“Hey, hold on,” he said. He tugged you towards him, and you knelt beside the couch. 

“You’re not bothering me,” he said gently. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You felt a rush of tears, and you rested your head against his chest to hide them.

“Bad dream,” you said in a small voice. “And the storm.”

“Oh, honey.” He stroked a hand over your hair. “I’m sorry. Come here.”

He moved over to make room for you on the couch, and when you raised your head to look at him, your vision was blurred with tears.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

He looked a little stricken. “What do you mean, am I sure?” He brushed a few tears from your cheek, and you leaned into his touch.

“Because of our fight,” you said, and your voice was watery and tight. “I… I understand if you’re still mad at me, Danny.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked over your face with all the tenderness in the world as he brushed your hair back from your face.

“Come here,” he said again, and you did as he said. You cuddled as close to him as you could get, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he wrapped an arm snugly around you. 

“My sweet sunshine,” he said gently, and it was comforting to hear the soft rumble of his voice in his chest.

“I’m not angry any more,” he said. “And even if I had been, you can always, always come to me when you’re scared or need my help. No matter what. Okay?”

You nodded, feeling more tears come. “Okay.” You pressed closer to him. “I love you.”

He ran a soothing hand over your back. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He pulled the blanket up over you and tucked you in next to him. “Try and get some rest, sunny. I’m right here.”

You didn’t say that you didn’t think you could get back to sleep; you knew he was tired, and you were content to snuggle close to him and rest in the love he gave you so generously. You played with his hair, twirling his soft curls around your fingers, and felt yourself relax by degrees.

You were almost dozing when a roll of thunder broke the quiet, and you jumped and pressed closer to Danny.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, startled out of sleep by your sudden movement. “It’s okay, sunny. ‘S just thunder.”

“Sorry,” you said pitifully.

“That’s okay, baby,” he said softly. He kissed your forehead. “Did you sleep at all?”

You shook your head. He propped himself up on his arm, looking down at you; his curls were a little frizzy around his head like a halo, and his eyes were tired.

“Hi,” you said.

He gave you a crooked smile. “Hi, sunny.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I’m sorry you can’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry I’m keeping you up,” you said.

He shook his head. “I don’t mind.” He carefully untangled himself from you and the blankets as he got up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” you asked, hesitant.

“Bathroom,” he said. “And then I thought I’d make you some tea.” He stretched and gave a little groan. “We ought to get a more comfortable couch.”

“Maybe I just shouldn’t start fights with you before bed,” you said in a meek voice.

He chuckled and leaned to give you a quick kiss. “Maybe.”

You huddled into the blankets and pillows still warm with Danny’s body heat, listening to the loud patter of rain on the roof and the occasional peal of thunder. They didn’t bother you so much now that Danny was up; even though you were grateful for the way he’d taken care of you already, it made you feel better to not be the only one awake.

“You want to watch a movie?” he asked. You heard the soft clink of mugs being taken down from the cabinet, and you sat up to watch him over the back of the couch. He’d found one of his comfy sweaters and tied his hair back in a messy bun, and you liked how the kitchen looked even more homey with him in it.

He looked over his shoulder. “Sunny?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry.” You propped your chin in your hand. “Sure. What do you want to watch?”

He poured two mugs of tea and stirred a little bit of honey into each of them. “We could watch Planet Earth,” he said. “That’s a good one to fall asleep to.”

You smiled. “Yeah, but which one? We can never agree on which episode is the best.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Let’s put on your favorite one, sunny. The forest episode, right?”

You hummed in agreement, and you followed him with your gaze as he carefully brought your tea over. He set the mugs on the coffee table and got comfortable beside you, searching through Netflix for the episode you wanted.

“Hey, Danny?”

“Hm?”

When you didn’t say anything, he looked over at you. “What is it, sunny?”

You reached a hesitant, apologetic hand out to him; you touched your fingers to the worn shoulder seam of his sweater.

“I’m sorry I fought with you when you got home,” you said in a quiet voice. “I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you.” You met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Danny.”

He leaned close and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you. I’m sorry too, for arguing when I could have tried to help. Forgive me?”

You rested your head against his shoulder. “Of course.”

The two of you drank your tea — Sleepytime Honey, Danny’s favorite for late nights — and listened to David Attenborough narrate the wonders of forested tundras. 

“Sunny,” Danny ventured after a while. “Do you want to try and sleep in the bedroom?”

You didn’t answer right away, knowing you wouldn’t give the answer he wanted to hear and feeling guilty for it. He read your hesitation and gave you a tired smile.

“You’d rather stay out here, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

“You don’t have to stay,” you said. You didn’t want to go back into your bedroom tonight, worried it would remind you of your nightmare, but you knew he wanted to. “Why don’t you go lay down, honey?”

“I don’t want you to be alone,” he said. He tucked the blankets more closely around you. “So if you want to stay, I do too.”

You gave him a wobbly smile. “Thanks.”

He gave you a gentle kiss. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You watched the episode in companionable silence for a while as the storm continued outside. Danny started to doze with his tea in hand, and you gently took his mug from him and set it next to yours on the coffee table.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, half-asleep. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you said softly, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. You snuggled against him and leaned your head on his shoulder, tucking your hands under his arm.

“Wake me up if you need anything,” Danny said after a moment, his voice heavy with sleep. “You promise?”

Your throat felt a little tight. You were so thankful for the way he cared for you; tomorrow, he’d have gotten a night of broken sleep and be sore from sleeping on the couch, but he loved you enough to stay with you when you needed him, even when it was less than comfortable.

You cuddled close and let yourself rest against him. “Yeah, I promise.”

danny taglist:@tearsofbri@busybeingtrash@myway-late@gotavansleep@gretavanbri@stardustchxrds@pxppylove @mariegvf @bajabule69 @radmads-gvf

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x

@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold @lostoverseer @catharu77 @mackalah @jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here!

#hi here's some danny and sunny fluff for your evening muah <3 #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fluff #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #danny wagner #danny x sunny #four weddings and a funeral fics #maddie writes stuff!

[mads198-9]

The Alcott

POV: the WIP made it out of the google drive

Summary: “If he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst that could happen to a girl that’s already hurt?” - Lana Del Rey

Warnings: None really, some explicit language though. Just some fluffy angsty dialogue to either help you sleep or keep you up at night. This is my first time writing for Joel (and practically ever) so I apologize if it isn’t Hemingway-esque. This is not edited but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I’m debating a smutty pt. 2 😗

@amydunnewithmen (where the delulus run wild)

————————————————————————

3 minutes.

It had taken Joel all of 3 minutes to set fire to a year of your life. A year of longing, patience, resentment, guilt and every ounce of shame that Joel had clutched to his chest since September 26th, 2003. 

It took you over two decades to find an ounce of peace. A place to, finally, let yourself breathe. To close your eyes out of comfort rather than necessity. You’d barely crawled out of the last city you scavenged. A metropolis that fell into a desolate isle. All you’d ever known of people was the way they’d looked with fungi crawling through their veins and seeping out of their orifices. Never a true person. The closest you’d come to other conscious humans were those who had already abandoned their humanity for the sake of surviving. What they didn't realize was that for them to live, they had to give up everything they’d ever lived for. You didn’t consider these men to be ‘people’. 

Looking at your facilities it was nothing short of a miracle, it was a miracle that you’d found Jackson. A single woman dragging her depleted muscles through feats of snow, a trail of blood broadcasting your vulnerability to anything within a mile’s radius. 

You don’t remember how you’d found it but you remember your pleas. Your claw marks on Jackson’s fortifying wall. You fell to the ground the moment they’d opened the gates. Almost relieved to have had a gun pointed at your head, because at least it was a person. Someone to end your suffering. You didn’t care in what way. A saviour in the form of a man nonetheless, one you’d come to know as Tommy. Tommy Miller. 

He was how you’d found Joel. How Joel found you. 

It was Tommy who’d found what was left of you, Maria who had housed you, but Joel who’d really saved you. 

-

It started pure. For you at least. 

The first you saw of Jackson’s newest constituent was his and Tommy’s embrace. Maybe that’s why you were never scared. Not of him, not of what he'd done, because you saw the best of what he could do. His reason for all that he had done. Family. 

You hadn’t felt your heart stop in ages. Up until him, fear was the only thing that had the power to constrict your chest. 

No words were spoken between the two of you for months. As the Tipsy Bison’s bartender you were the loosener of lips. An observer by nature, a listener by force, a tolerator of none. His drink order spoke for him those first few months.

Whiskey. Neat. No ice to dull its sting. A welcomed burn to the back of his throat but he sipped it like water. Years of practice of not only enduring pain, but learning to think he’d deserved it.  

It was the first thing of substance you’d ever said to him. Your words numbing him like the whiskey in his glass. It took two minutes of silence for him to scrape the floor of the bison with his barstool and drag his ass out of the bar. 

You blew it. Or so you’d thought. If anything, you had initiated what would be the most painful and pleasurable experience of your life. One that brought you to your knees in more ways than one. It felt stronger than any romantic pull you’d experienced. Every pace further from him began to hurt. A religion. 

- 

From that moment on Joel thought about more than just the glances you’d given. Your perception of him wasn’t wrong in the slightest but it gave him something new to think about. To dwell on and give his fist motivation when the house was silent and his needs too great. 

-

Months of simmering tension and lenghtneing conversations that tugged the corner of his lips up led you to what would become your favourite place. The eventual route of all your pain. 

His arms.

Before the age of 25 you’d experienced every horror the world had to offer. You’d spent your life running, burning the memories of your old life with every fire you’d lit to warm your skin. All while everything within you froze with time. You’d never had a moment to explore your thoughts let alone your body.

Joel was the first. In every way imaginable.

Even in heartbreak. 

-

In all of Jackson, Tommy was the one to know Joel best. He’d seen the colour come to his brother’s cheeks at the mere mention of your name and he’d seen the way his eyes bored holes into those who gave the two of you suggestive looks in public. 

The jealousy of the men who thought they had a right to fuck you and the envy of the women you ‘stole’ Joel from. The looks of outrage that painted the churchgoers faces chipped away at his resolve every time the two of you were together and only reinforced his shame. 

Echoed his anxieties of whether or not he was ‘too old’ for you. Too destructive to be around such innocence. Too hardened by his years alone. How your presumed father issues were the only thing that drew you to him.  

The hunter’s voices won out in the end because he lost you, at the alcott. 

The last thing he wanted, he’d done to you. 

-

You’d once loved it here. The Alcott. A space delegated to the books that once littered the halls of the ravaged homes across Wyoming. A place that Maria saw as a solution to your lack of a purpose. 

Even after everything, you can’t imagine leaving. 

You hadn’t left in the weeks since Joel drove a knife through your chest. Weeks you spent curled up in the back of the shop, surrounded by books, their pages riddled with love stories and sonnets, ridiculing you with their happy endings. 

Draped in the flannel he’d long left, finding yourself relating to it. At first glance, an abandoned piece of cloth, but you saw it as much more. It was something he no longer had use for. Something he chose to leave. A landmine of memories. Its scent sending you into a spiral with every inhale. 

-

It took less than a day for his resolve to crack and less than twelve hours for Ellie to tell him that he’d been a dick and only six for Tommy to see the change in him. For once in his life Joel Miller was cold. The left side of his bed that once held you now held the weight of your pain, his loss. The shattered look in your eyes as he’d told you to move on painted itself to the backs of his eyelids. His own voice haunting him, telling you to find yourself outside of who you are with him. That he’s too old for you. That you were only a kid and no matter how bad the world had gotten he wouldn’t take advantage of that. 

What he didn’t know was that the time spent with him made you feel like a woman, not the solitary girl everyone else saw you for. The days spent with his lips against you were the only times in which you’d believed that your skin was your own.

But he didn’t realize that, or did not let himself because he was bad. For all intensive purposes Joel Miller was a serial killer. A lethal weapon. Nothing that could provide you with the warmth you sought. The warmth he knew you deserved. And god did he want to be the one to give it to you. Joel had spent the last twenty years of his life preserving life, not experiencing it.  Hell he still was, patrolling the outskirts of Jackson four times a week. This time taking the long way home just to pass by your house. It was as he expected, as much as he’d kicked himself he knew you, craved you, understood you. So it was no surprise to see no light coming from your house. No noise either. At first he panicked. His mind his own greatest enemy in how it conjured up a thousand scenarios of you leaving Jackson, all ending with your heart stopped and skin blue. 

Where on god’s green earth could you have gone. Where you’d never left.

The Alcott. 

-

You hadn’t heard him come in.

“You're still here.”

Questioning you in his thick southern drawl, draping across his words like honey. Damn it. Damn him for still making you blush. 

His presence isn’t what startled you, it was the fact that it was Joel. Your Joel, now just Joel.��

“I never left.”

He regretted everything he’d ever done to you the second he saw your wide eyes boring into his own. Glossed over in every shade of pain.

He didn’t have to ask why, he was sure he knew, but he asked anyway. Never a man to stumble over his words he could barely get two syllables out. 

Looking down to his shifting feet then back to you he asked you what he already knew. 

“Why?”

“Because I love this place. What used to feel like our house. Even if it’s cursed now.”

He thought his heart would start screaming with the way it was beating. 

“I, uh” clears his throat “I didn't want to darken y’doorstep. Anymore than I already have I’spose.”  

“Funny. I’ve had the lights off since you left.”

You practically slurred your words. What was left of you both had been draining you emotionally, in only the 2 minutes he’d been here. 

“So… I, uh. I was g’nna ask ya, how’ve ya been?”

Your laugh was as dry as the Texas heat Joel had come from. But less familiar. 

“Why are you really here Joel? You’ve always been shit at small talk, didn’t suppose that changed in the last week.”

“Jesus” A week? “Feels like a lifetime since the last time I saw ya.”

“Funny how a ‘lifetime’ is what seemed to be between us. Different generations and all that bull shit.”

“Look kid -”

“No. Don’t you dare call me ‘kid’. Don’t make me feel smaller than I already am. Those people out there may have beaten you into submission but I am an adult. I’ve been one since I saw my first infected. I’ve been on my own and just fucking fine without anybody since I was a so-called kid so I dont want to hear another god damn word. You and everybody else think I can’t so much as cross the street without holding your hand but I've done more than that with less.

You know I survived on my own.

Before you.

And if it’s up to you, I will after, but I don’t want to.

For the first time in my life I got something I wanted, needed, and I don’t want to give it up. 

You.

Ellie.

Tommy, Maria, the baby.

Jackson.

Living.

It’s more than surviving.

But apparently not to you.”

“That is not true.”

You didn’t realise you’d stood up until you could feel the heat radiating off of Joel, his flannel, everything.  

“Then what is huh? I was a quick fuck. The first wet thing you’d felt in twenty years or what?”

You were yelling at this point and Joel hadn’t moved an inch. Not giving you anything. Not even a response except for the pinching between his brows. And it was killing you. 

“You know it wasn’t like that -”

“Then what the FUCK was it if. not. real?!” Emphasizing each word with a pound to his firm chest. 

Nothing you said from then on was comprehensible. Just sobs ripping from your chest as you threw your weight into him. Sinking into the floor, dragging him down with you. 

His arms shooting out from his sides to enrapture you the second he felt your knees buckle and tears flow. Pulling you into his lap as your body shuddered. Immediately finding the crook of his neck. Inhaling him again. Finally, you couldn’t tell if it made you cry more or less but all you could notice was Joel. All you could feel, hear and smell was Joel. The smell of firewood dotting his skin mixed with the old spice soap he’d managed to scavenge on last week’s patrol. The feeling of giving into his arms again, coming home, and the sound of him cooing, and sniffling? 

He’d lost it. Thought he’d lost you and that was his breaking point. Feeling his own tears seep into your hair you knew it was real. You knew he meant everything he’d said back then. Back before Jackson got to him. Before he’d let his own mind turn on him. And as much as it’d hurt then, it felt good now.

“Shhh, shhh.

I gotcha baby. I know, oh I know. More than you could imagine.”

“Please, please, please.”

Holding your face, and your heart, in his calloused palms he looked you in the eye.

“Please what, baby?”

Looking like a doe at his doorstep, your crumpled frame fitting perfectly within the confines of his lap.

“Please don’t leave. Please stay. I tried, I tried so hard to be good to you, for you.”

“Oh honey, you were, fuck you are baby. 

The best I’ll ever get, all I ever want.

I’m not leaving baby girl. 

Never. 

Even if you ask me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

And this time, he didn’t.

————————————————————————

This sounded so much better in my head -

W o w

I actually wrote something… hot damn.

I’m debating a second part?? of smut??

#Spotify #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal #the alcott #taylor swift #the national #joel tlou #joel the last of us #angst with a happy ending

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 6.7k

warnings : language ig?

content : a lot more plot, i'm settling all the elements i need to move forward and write pt8 (which i've been fantasizing and imagining since day 1 lol), reader meets Lucy and the gang finally has a plan

taglist : i've lost track lol @demigoddess-of-ghosts @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara

note : again i'm sorry this took so long, the weeks keep getting busier and the time flies by faster and i got hit with writer's block too at some point i think idk but i'm on vacation in three weeks and it should help (i hope) anyway i hope you enjoy :)

She didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not when she heard hurried footsteps climbing the stairs. She could hardly move and even though her eyes were open, all she could see were blurry shadows and the greenish light from the ghost lamp outside. For a moment she thought the voice she heard calling her name was her mind still playing tricks on her but the hands that grabbed hers were definitely real and convinced her she was awake. Someone turned on the light, blinding her. She blinked to see Lockwood sitting next to her on her bed, clutching her hands and asking if she was okay. George entered the room practically running, holding a rapier he must have taken just in case.

“We heard you screaming, what happened?” He asked, seemingly out of breath.

“I-I uh… um” She cleared her throat. “I gotta…”

She made a move to get out of bed.

“Come, we’ll make you some tea.”

George helped her up. Lockwood didn’t let go of her hand until she was out of reach with a concerned look on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his gaze fixated on her.

George supported her down the stairs, though she didn’t really need it. But she felt bad that she woke them up, so she let him. Lockwood was in front of them, looking back every once in a while, to make sure she was okay. She must have really scared them to have them acting this way. Or they cared more about her than she realized.

They got down to the kitchen and Lockwood put the kettle on. George brought a blanket from the library to cover her, but she was still sweating from her dream and needed fresh air more than anything.

“So…” George started as he settled into the chair next to her.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Yes, we gathered that much…” Lockwood spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was hoarse, his tone serious. She would have felt like she was being reprimanded if his eyes hadn’t been so filled with worry. It made her want to apologize profusely.

“Though it sounded like you were getting murdered.” George added.

A heavy silence fell over the room. The two boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“I tend to have intense dreams.” y/n finally said. “It doesn’t happen every time, but they can be very realistic. And that girl… I keep seeing her, but she never screamed at me like that.” She looked into her cup, images of the girl screaming at her flashing before her eyes.

“What girl?”

“I keep seeing this girl, she’s always telling me to find her and to look for her but I never know what she means. To be honest I had forgotten about her. But tonight, she just screamed at me, it was so loud you have no idea!”

“Actually, we sort of have an idea…” George said, burying his head between his arms. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep.

“I didn’t know I was actually screaming I’m sorry…”

“That girl screaming at you was all it took to wake us up in the middle of the night?” He mumbled.

“It’s not just that, I was in this haunted warehouse with agents attempting to clear it, the case went wrong, horribly wrong it was awful. I couldn’t move, I tried to help but I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched.”

“Do you know who she is?” Lockwood asked. It looked like her story had piqued his interest.

“I have no idea… and I don’t know why I need to find her…”

“Maybe it’s just a dream, it doesn’t have to be a premonition. Don’t overthink it.”

“That way we could go back to sleep...” George said, his eyes now closed.

“You should go back to bed, I’m fine really. Thanks for the tea. And for checking up on me. That was sweet of you.”

They both gave her a warm smile. It made her feel even more guilty that she woke them up.

“George really you should get upstairs, you’re barely awake.”

He made a poor attempt at a protest but soon gave up and went back to his room. Lockwood was yawning too.

“You should go too, I’ll go back to the attic in a bit.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Lockwood really I’m fine.”

“I don’t care I’m staying until you get back to sleep.”

She settled back into her chair, sipping her tea in silence. Lockwood was standing against the countertop, doing the same thing. She put her cup back onto the Thinking Cloth and tried to bring up her legs closer to her chest. The chair was too small and she bumped her knee into the table.

Lockwood took her mug and left the room without a word. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow him or if that was retribution for waking everyone up. She did anyway and found him in the library. He was settled on the couch, both their mugs resting on the coffee table beside it. She sat next to him and brought her legs up next to her, drawing her closer to him. She draped a blanket over her and took back her cup. Even though she was comfortable, her mind still hadn’t calmed down. She kept seeing images from her nightmare, the girl’s face screaming at her, the heavy doors closing on her teammates, sealing their fate. She was glad Lockwood stayed with her, his presence was comforting.

She finished her tea and put her mug down on the table.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.” She said, sleepy-eyed.

“You should go back to bed, we have a lot to discuss tomorrow”

She stared at him wondering what he meant.

“Now that we’re officially involved in this whole Dufour mess we need to see how we’re going to clean it up.”

“Oh, right.”

“You look half asleep already, I’ll help you get back to the attic if you want.”

“No, don’t. I want to stay here, I don’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep in my room tonight.”

“Alright.” He hesitated. “I could… read to you if you’d like. It always helped me when I had nightmares as a kid.”

“I’m not a child!”

He was already picking a book from the bookshelf on the wall opposite the fireplace. He came back to settle next to her, bringing her closer and settling her head against his chest.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned with you it’s that sometimes it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”

“Oh really?” She teased, but she was too exhausted to really give him a hard time.

“You have to ask for help sometimes.”

“Says the guy who couldn’t ask someone to tie his tie for him.”

He nudged her leg with his foot with a laugh. She settled against his chest to get more comfortable and when she finally stopped moving, he started reading in a low voice. The monotonous tone he kept rocked her to sleep. His arms kept her warm. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers. She nodded off almost immediately.

When she woke up, the sun was already high, bathing the room in a soft glow. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling an even breath in her hair. Lockwood was still asleep, looking much more peaceful than she had ever seen him. His arms were wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was more comfortable than the time she woke up with George on the other side of the sofa, probably because this time she was cuddling with her bedmate and not trying to share a couch too small for the both of them. It ended up being a relaxing night after all, the waking up part making up for the nightmare. They were breathing in unison, fitting perfectly in the tight space of the sofa. Her mind was still blurry, she wanted to fall asleep once more to stay in the peaceful state she was just in. She snuggled closer, her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him tighter, when she realized what she was doing. She was hugging Lockwood, and he had his arms around her. And for the briefest moment she felt like he was hugging her back. Suddenly it all felt wrong. They were colleagues. He was her employer. And landlord. They had a job to do together. During her time at Fittes she never let herself get too close to her teammates, at least not that way. It had happened once or twice that she found herself attracted to one of her colleagues, but she always kept her distance, thinking of the disaster that could have happened if she had let her feelings take over. And yet here she was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to get closer than she had been with anyone in a long time. As hard as it was, she pulled away slowly, trying to get up without waking him. She could’ve sworn she felt him holding on to her, trying to pull her back, but once she was on her feet she saw him turn on his side, still asleep. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, giving her false hopes. She covered him with the blanket she had last night, studying his relaxed features. It was unfair how good he looked when he was sleeping. She forced herself to get into the kitchen before George could catch her staring.

It was a close call since he came down as the water started boiling in the kettle. He looked more awake than he had earlier. It eased her guilt knowing he had managed to get some rest.

“I didn’t hear you come up last night.” George remarked as he poured himself a cup.

“After I woke you up in the middle of the night I thought you’d be grateful for that.”

“I’m not complaining I’m just wondering if you got any sleep after that.”

“I did.” She smiled without adding anything, sipping her tea in silence.

“I didn’t hear Lockwood either.” He said innocently while stirring his tea. He didn’t sound like he was simply checking up on her anymore. His voice had an edge with the slightest hint of insinuation.

“You were so exhausted you could barely stand. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had slept through one of us falling down the stairs from the attic to the ground floor without opening an eye.”

“Actually, I had a hard time falling back asleep.” He took a sip looking up at the ceiling.

She didn’t answer. Whatever she could have said would have led to more teasing anyway. She blushed. He just smiled before offering her a biscuit. She didn’t get why he reacted that way. He was looking at her like she had something to hide. But he had fallen asleep with her on that same couch and it certainly hadn’t meant anything! Though, if she was honest with herself she was just annoyed that he could read her like an open book. She took a biscuit out of the box he was handing her, avoiding his knowing eyes and proud smirk.

“I’m guessing things are better between you two then…”

“I came up last night to tell you so, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before she could throw the nearest dish towel at him Lockwood came in. An awkward silence fell over the room. At least y/n felt the tension. Lockwood didn’t seem to notice and George was back to pretending like his biscuit was the most important thing in the world. He was right of course, things really were better between them. So much better that she wished she could wake up this way every morning.

She didn’t let herself think about it. Nothing good could come of this. Except of course the comfort she felt when she was in his arms, the butterflies in her stomach that danced to the song playing in her mind whenever he looked at her. She froze. She needed to clear her head and started to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe taking a shower and getting ready for the day would help.

When she came back down, she could hear the boys arguing. The debate didn’t sound heated, so they were probably discussing an upcoming case.

“I’m telling you it’s far more logical to do it this way!”

“You never listen to what I have to say!”

She pushed the door open.

“What’s this all about?”

“Ah, y/n I’m glad you’re back.” Lockwood said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I keep telling George that we should focus on discovering who is at the head of the whole relic operation but he won’t listen.”

“You’re the one not listening! We don’t know enough about the operation to aim so high right away.”

He slid his hand down to her arm. “What do you think?”

His touch was enough to make her mind go blank. “I- um... you’re catching me off guard. Could you walk me through it?”

“Well, I think that focusing on Dufour isn’t useful anymore. Since we know she isn’t in charge we should let her be and focus on whoever is behind this.”

“And I think we could still learn a lot from what she does and follow her.”

“Those are both… good points…” She was still very aware of Lockwood’s hand resting on her arm. She wasn’t used to this. He had been distant most of the time those past few weeks and the sudden change really disturbed her.

“Well, I know I’m right!”

“And I am too! You’d see that if you weren’t so stubborn.”

It really was the pot calling the kettle black. She tried not to laugh at their argument as she crossed her arms, not so subtly removing Lockwood’s hand form her arm.

“You should just go your separate ways then, meet up later today to debrief the info you both get?”

“Yes, I guess we could do that.” They both nodded. “What do you do then, y/n?��� Lockwood asked her, crossing his arms.

“I’ll go with George!” She said, realizing it came out a little too loud. Lockwood shot her a confused glance. “I’m just… curious to see what she’s up to… is all.” She tried to justify.

Lockwood briefly frowned before approving their plan, telling them they should meet back at the house at 4pm.

---

“You jumped awfully fast at the chance to come with me on this stake out.” George commented.

“I’m always excited at the thought of working with you Georgie!”

He rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t being subtle, and he let her know it.

“Plus, I’m genuinely curious to see what this bitch is up to.”

That got a laugh out of him.

They were heading towards the Fittes building to see if maybe they could spot their nemesis stepping out to run one of her fraudulent errands. As they got closer to their old employer’s offices, she noticed familiar faces. She spotted several agents she used to see down Fittes corridors. As they crossed the road, she passed a guy who used to be on her team. She waved politely but was met with a dark stare. She couldn’t remember anything she could have done to upset him, then realized it was probably the aftermath of that offensive column. Her pace quickened, fueled once more by anger. She was determined to see what that horrible woman was up to and most importantly to find out how to bring her down. She was so furious she could have just walked into her office to strangle her. Hopefully George grabbed her arm and led her down a street far enough to remain unseen. He kneeled down to get out a hat and a pair of sunglasses out of his bag.

“Put these on, we don’t want Dufour to recognize us.”

“What are these eggs for?” She asked as she tried on the sunglasses.

“They might come in handy if we spot her car!”

It would have been a great relief, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the mental image she got. Dufour was getting out of the Fittes building across the street, seemingly in a hurry, carrying a large duffel bag. And so, the stake out began.

They tried to keep enough distance to remain discreet and followed her for the next hour. They weren’t sure that following her would lead them somewhere useful or if they would learn anything new. The fact that their old supervisor kept walking without stopping didn’t help. y/n even started to think that she didn’t have a destination at all and was just messing with them. That was until they reached an imposing building located near Clerkenwell Road. As Dufour got closer to the glass doors at the entrance, she looked around as if to make sure no one saw her go in. y/n and George had to hide several times behind cars or newspaper stands to avoid getting caught. The first time she turned around y/n felt her heart sink as she pulled George down with her, crouching behind a parked car. But it was a good sign, it probably meant that she had something to hide. They remained far from the building to remain unseen. George eagerly wrote down the address in his notebook. She could tell how pleased he was with their discovery before he even turned to congratulate his plan, his smile getting wider with every letter he wrote. They waited for her to come back out. She took her time. When she finally emerged from the building an hour later, she didn’t carry the bag anymore. Whatever was in it had to be valuable. Dufour started walking back the way she had come. They ducked and slowly entered the nearest café.

Since it was only 2 and they were starving, they decided to take a break, unable to come back out without being seen anyway. They settled at a table far from the window. They ordered tea and some pastries to share and discussed different theories, trying to figure out what the woman could be up to.

“Given her track record it’s fair to assume that her bag had sources in it right?”

“I’m surprised Fittes didn’t bat an eyelash since she started her operation. I mean she can’t be that subtle…” His eyes lit up. “What if Fittes was involved?”

“Maybe…” She didn’t want to bring down his enthusiasm but she was already picturing him getting way too far from the matter at hand. “Let’s focus on bringing her down for now. If you’re still mad at Fittes after that we’ll see what we can do.” She said with a laugh.

“Right. Then we should try to see what this building is.”

“It’s the Silverpoint Organization building!” said a voice behind her that made her jump.

“Norrie? What are you doing here?”

“Hey George! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I came to see my girlfriend, she just started her shift. But then I saw you two and I knew you had to be discussing something interesting given all the rumors these past few days… I couldn’t resist.”

“Actually, you could help us a lot!”

y/n greeted the girl as she sat down next to her. The last time she had seen them was at the furnaces. Apparently, the chat she had with George that night inspired her to do some investigating of her own. She had paid closer attention to the weird things she had noticed and caught a guy stealing a source red-handed. Not only did she get the source back to burn it but she also managed to get some information out of him. y/n was really impressed.

“So, I made him understand that he’d better tell me what he wanted to do with the source. That’s when he told me he was to bring it to this building across the street. I dug a little further and turns out it’s the Silverpoint Organization, whatever that is.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” George said while scribbling in his notebook. She didn’t think his smile could get any wider and yet it did.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were passing by!” called a voice behind them.

Norrie turned around to greet her girlfriend. The girl sat in front of her, saying something about having some time before the beginning of her shift. She had short wavy hair, auburn color, almond brown eyes. Her face was round and delicate. She looked friendly, but the warmth of her smile wasn’t enough to keep y/n from freezing. After all, that girl had woken her up in the middle of the night screaming just a few hours ago.

---

“And that’s why we should go after the money trail.”

Lockwood had been talking nonstop since he had walked through the door. He didn’t notice the heavy silence filling the living room. Or the haunted expression on y/n’s face.

“So, you somehow got your hands on an envelope supposedly used by that old man, who you think runs the operation, to pay a relic man who, again supposedly, brought him sources and that’s enough to convince you that you have a proof of the transactions?” George’s eyebrows were furrowed. Confusion filled his stare and his mouth was slightly agape. He looked baffled and not in a good way.

“That’s not all I found, didn’t you listen to what I just said?” Lockwood retorted, unfazed and still so sure of himself. “I have a reliable source telling me that they saw the guy take the money out of the envelope and it also has a strange code on it that has to link him back to wherever the money’s from. There must be a record of it somewhere. They wouldn’t bother writing such a long code on an envelope that gets left in the street if it didn’t have a purpose.”

“And you think this maze is worth getting lost in?”

“We won’t get lost! Like I told you I have contacts to help us out!”

“With relic men transactions? I’d love to meet them.” George still didn’t seem convinced.

“So, what do you think?” Lockwood asked with a triumphant smile, ignoring his friend’s objections.

“You don’t even care a little about what we discovered?”

He looked around the room, finally conceding them a glance. His smile fell as he looked into her eyes.

“What happened?”

It was George’s turn to talk restlessly about their day. Y/n looked at their exchange back and forth and listened to George tell Lockwood all about their successful stake out and their encounter with Norrie. There were times where she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, too caught up in the strange feeling that had followed her all the way home. Lucy had been lovely and tried to make her feel at ease even though y/n had stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for the better part of five minutes. They exchanged a few words about adapting to life in London and leaving agency work behind, though only partly for Norrie who wanted to do her best to help even without being back in the field. They never mentioned the incident that had led them here, just that they had left agency work. y/n knew why the girls had decided to change their lifestyle but nodded and smiled without ever referencing her dreams. She thought it would probably freak them out plus she didn’t want to bring up the horrible event that probably traumatized them in the first place. She tried to focus back on George’s explanations. He was excited to start researching the Silverpoint Organization. It was obvious that Lockwood was frustrated that his idea hadn’t gotten the attention he thought it would have. He sat back to let George talk with a barely hidden exasperated look on his face. But when he locked eyes with her his face slightly softened, allowing George to finish his theory.

“You’re awfully silent, y/n.” Lockwood said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.

“We met Lucy today.”

She was met with a questioning stare.

“The girl from my dream.”

This triggered more frowning.

“As it turns out Norrie’s girlfriend Lucy is also the girl who woke me up screaming.”

George was still scribbling in his notebook. Lockwood didn’t say a word.

“I don’t really get it either. Hence the silence.”

He grabbed her hand in both of his. He was gentle, like her bones would break if he made any sudden movements.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about for now.” She said gently. She still didn’t know what to do with this and didn’t want to burden anyone. “But thank you…” She took back her hand, smoothed down her skirt and sat back, coincidently distancing herself from him. “How about we just get back to Dufour?”

“Right…” He flexed his hand while looking down. He looked back at her, his usual smirk curving his lips. “You can’t let it go, can you?”

“Remind me when you let go of your rivalry with Kipps?”

He smiled, pausing for a second. There was a complicity in the look they shared. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. She pushed the feeling down as much as she could, trying to win their staring match without blushing. She failed, obviously. Lockwood got up with a satisfied look on his face.

“So, what should we do? I mean… I think my lead is pretty solid…” He said looking up at the ceiling.

“No, it’s not. It’s numbers on a torn envelope Lockwood!” George retorted.

“What do you think y/n?”

“When it comes to instinct, you told me to always listen to George and I followed that rule religiously since I joined the agency.”

“Like following the rules is going to help us with your revenge plan…” He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t look offended or disappointed. He looked…proud?

“But fine it’s two against one anyway and I’m a fair leader. We’ll start with this organization and see what we find.”

George didn’t need more. He rushed back to his room, slamming the door with a renewed determination. They probably wouldn’t see him again until dinner. A silence fell over the room. Her mind wandered, going back to the girl haunting her nights. She had asked her to find her and she had. Now what? She didn’t feel relieved, and meeting that girl hadn’t felt like she was fulfilling some prophecy, accomplishing her fate in a high-pressure decisive moment. What if she had been too late? What if from the start she was supposed to help Lucy save her team? Maybe she was cursed with the guilt she had felt in her nightmare, forever unable to sleep soundly again.

A hand resting on her wrist brought her back to reality. Lockwood had sat back down next to her and was stroking his thumb back and forth on her skin in a soothing way.

“We’ll work it out.” He reassured her. “The answer could be in the extensive research George will make us do.” She looked at him unconvinced, but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.

“He’s not gonna let us rest, is he?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“On the bright side, if I’m exhausted it might keep my mind off this.”

He held her hand tighter before letting go. She almost reached for his arm to get him to sit back down next to her. As he told her to get some rest before the busy day awaiting them, she ran back upstairs, her wrist still tingly.

The week that followed was in fact a busy one. They followed a strict schedule of intense research, rigorous preparation of their cases and efficient ghost clearing. The military-like organization was all George of course. He took the habit of waking them at 7:30 sharp by knocking repeatedly on their door until they were up to tell him to stop. They were among the first people present at the archives. Each day George assigned articles and newspaper respectively to Lockwood and her while he worked on the case they had that night. At noon they would switch, George looking over their research while they got familiar with the case before heading home to prep their bags for the evening. It was exhausting but she had to admit that it was yielding results. In just a week they had uncovered detailed information about the organization, how it was founded, who it was founded by, and why it was created in the first place. George had summed up the information both in their casebook and on the Thinking Cloth. Every morning as she drank her cup of tea she could read:

“Silverpoint organization – 1996 – founder Theodor Mullet of Mullet & Sons

TM eldest son and heir to M&S, created Sp Org to “further his father’s legacy” and protect agents against field injuries unrelated to ghost-lock

One fundraiser organized each year

Strong link to M&S rapier supplier

Funds from Fittes?

No financial records or official information available”

She couldn’t help feeling insulted that she slept so little only for their hard work to be summed up in a few lines. She didn’t complain however, at least she had helped find some of this information. Lockwood on the other hand was out of his depth. Research had never been the part he excelled at. He was too impatient and couldn’t sit still. By default, George took the lead but y/n could feel Lockwood’s pride taking a hit. If George, resident researcher of 35 Portland Row, was now in charge, what good was he? He tried his best to remain helpful by offering theories of his own. He kept insisting that the lack of financial records was suspicious and that his hunch was right. Of course, he did so without an ounce of pettiness and repeated that they should have listened to him from the start. y/n had a hard time believing him. His frustration started to show and it affected his work. During cases at night, he was bolder, trying to show off. At one point they were fending off a visitor which could have been easily handled at two while George looked for the source yet he picked this time to demonstrate the new move he had been practicing all day. The night had ended with a rush to the hospital and three stitches.

Today was a close call too. He had jumped down a flight of stairs to get between her and a visitor. She thought he probably had good intentions but she had her rapier ready and the situation was under control. It was a relief to see he didn’t break anything, a miracle frankly. She didn’t need a third time to decide to act. She would talk to George in the morning to convince him to spend some time looking into Lockwood’s lead.

They came back home exhausted, George going to bed immediately to stick to his schedule. She was about to do the same when she noticed the light was on in the library. She wasn’t surprised to see Lockwood sitting there with one of his magazines in his lap, acting like the day had no effect on him. He simply smiled at her when she entered and kept reading. She told him that he should rest. He simply hummed in agreement but didn’t move except to turn the page. She was about to give up and leave him there when he bolted up to show her the page he was on. It was a double page ad for an open-door day at Mullet&Sons, inviting clients to try their new line of rapiers and meet the board. The perfect occasion to get closer and hopefully find out more about the founder of the Silverpoint Organization. A light brightened his eyes as he smiled at her. She was certain he wouldn’t shut up about his finding.

A call the next day brought their enthusiasm back down. Right before they left for the Archives, Inspector Barnes had called. Lockwood had answered. His smile had faltered as the conversation went on. He hung up and stayed silent until George asked him what he wanted. Apparently, the inspector had called to warn them again. Only this time the threat had become much more real. Superiors at DEPRAC had taken an interest in the complaints against them, mostly to get Fittes off their back Lockwood thought. But it didn’t matter why, what mattered was that the ridiculous rehabilitation program offered by an unqualified journalist was getting more consideration than originally thought. One mishap would turn y/n and George into the first test subjects of this “educational” experiment. They were now under more surveillance than before. Sneaking into Mullet&Sons offices during their next event was out of the question, they’d be the first accused.

They stood in the hallway in silence, unsure what to do next. Researching more at the Archives seemed futile now.

“I might have an idea.” Lockwood said.

They looked up at him expectantly.

“We go after the financial records.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Lockwood.” George swore. She understood his frustration. Being right didn’t matter now, and this was really not the time. Plus, stealing financial records wasn’t much better to remain far from suspicions.

“Lockwood…” She looked up at him. “We don’t have a way to do that legally and we’ll be the first interrogated. How could we even give evidence to DEPRAC, if we ever find any?”

“We get ourselves an airtight alibi.” He said proudly, like it was obvious.

They stared at him with a beaten expression, still not knowing what he had in mind. He went to the library and came back with the magazine he was reading last night. He eagerly handed it to them, open on a page featuring one of those fancy parties that took place occasionally. Though it wasn’t just any party, it was a fundraiser for the Silverpoint Organization. The next fundraiser was taking place next week and for the occasion an article was referencing last year’s event.

“We get into this party, make sure that everyone sees us and hopefully get some information about Theodor while talking to the guests.”

“But what about the records?”

“We’ll need some extra help.” He said before winking at her.

---

“By getting traces of the transactions between the organization and relic-men we can bring down the operation. And for that we need your help.”

Lockwood was back to his usual self. Charming, self-assured and most importantly in charge. The two girls in front of him had very different reactions. Norrie seemed to have made up her mind already, looking over at George every once in a while like she was in a hurry to get to work. Lucy was more skeptical. She looked like she was battling conflicted emotions. y/n didn’t blame her. They barely knew each other and they were asking her to steal financial records. They had just given up on a whole life, trying to adapt and they should throw all that away to help people they had just met? It was madness and y/n felt bad for asking them such a thing. But she didn’t really have a choice. Aside from them, there weren’t a lot of candidates.

After his whole speech, Lockwood sat in front of them, determination piercing through his eyes. He quirked his lips up in the slightest. She knew all too well this intense stare and irresistible smile. She hadn’t managed to turn him down, not many could. He spoke in a softer voice to try and convince Lucy to join their cause. And it was working, she was considering it. She said she needed time to think it over. But Lockwood wasn’t usually patient. y/n knew what would come next. A compassionate and understanding tirade so sincere you couldn’t help but join his side. But she knew what Lucy had been through, she was there sort of. Not ten seconds after Lockwood had started speaking again she interrupted.

“Lockwood stop.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Don’t do this, just give her some time to think it over.”

“We don’t have a lot of time y/n!” He turned back to Lucy. “And as much as I understand the difficult position this puts you in-”

“Just shut up Lockwood!”

George sighed and buried his head in his hands. Norrie asked him what was wrong.

“They had just started to get along!”

y/n ignored his comments.

“Lucy, I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. I completely understand if you don’t want to join us and stay far away from anything agency related. I just think that we can trust you and we desperately need allies right now. We don’t need a definitive answer now, but do you think you could give it some thought… maybe?”

Lucy looked up at her with a softness in her gaze. She was scarred, that much was clear. She seemed afraid too. But there was much more than that. There was resilience and bravery. An ember in the ashes.

“I’ll think about it.” She said with a thin smile. They exchanged a glance that was enough to make y/n feel a deep connection to the girl. She reached for Norrie’s hand as they exited the room. There was so much more she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her about her dreams, about the relief she felt now that she got to know her. The platonic attraction she felt was overwhelming. She had never wanted to be friends with someone so ardently. There was something special about her. She didn’t know if it was El’s betrayal that left a scar or if her dreams were a sign of a deeper bond, but she desperately wanted to find out. She led them back in the hall and slowly closed the door behind them.

She turned to find Lockwood staring at her with a hurt look on his face.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m… sorry…”

“I’ve been jumping through hoops with you since I met you and I’m getting tired of it.”

Her heart sank.

“Yeah, that’s fair. In my defense, I knew what you were doing and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go through with it.”

“What was I doing?”

“Faking compassion to get what you want.”

“Oh please, not that again. I was just trying to get the help we need. We’re in this mess because of you need I remind you.”

“Lucy’s been through a lot and she deserves genuine sympathy, not some fake act you put on every time we have a difficult client. I still have nightmares about what happened to them, you can’t imagine how it feels.”

“I can actually.”

There was a silence. He looked deeply hurt. She didn’t dare speak, knowing the matter was probably more sensitive than she realized.

“I’m doing everything I can to help you and I need you to be more cooperative. I’m not risking the reputation of my company if this is the thanks I get.”

“You’re right…” She said after a moment. “I went too far.”

He nodded. They stood in silence, neither of them daring to move.

“Just don’t be mean to me again.”

“I won’t.”

He turned to enter the kitchen.

“I wasn’t really mean though…” She said on a hesitant tone. “I was rude sure. But mean… Kipps is mean. He degrades you and all…” She didn’t even know why she said that. A desperate attempt at lightening the mood, giving Lockwood a reason to redirect his anger at someone else. It was pathetic. She could already see herself unable to sleep months from now living the shame of this moment all over again.  

“Oh, so you agree with me now?” He answered turning around. “When did you take the “best leader of the best team” off his pedestal?”

She smiled.

“You’re still a bigger prick than he is though.”

He smiled back.

“Tea?”

#who follows the rules anyway #ukuwrites #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co imagine #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #george karim #lucy carlyle #norrie white

[book-place]

Twice Cursed

Warnings: mentions of death and curses, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x reader platonic

Request: Hello!! Can I pls request a batfam x ghost! reader (yes, again). You had died about 10 years before Bruce was born so you've been there for quit some timeYou've never hurt anyone (atleast not intentionally) so they let u stay. You're shy and youve never talked above a whisper so sometimes its difficult to hear you. You also get scared very easily so let's say you're taking you're daily stroll around the manner, humming your favorite tune when all of a sudden, you turn the corner and bump into Alfred. He let's about a small "oh" meanwhile you let out a loud screech and cover your eyes. This took him by surprise since he's never heard you be this loud. You slowly take your hands off of your eyes to reveal a flushed, embarrased, face. "Sorry," you whispered, "that took me by surprise" you said before disappearinginto the walls before he could even sat anything.This had happened again throughout the whole day but instead it was with Jason, Tim, Damian, and Bruce

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: You aren’t able to hear as well as normal, and it freaks you out

A/N: I don’t love this, but it’s all I can write rn

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You were cursed. Well, yes, you were cursed to be a ghost for the rest of eternity with your soul tied to the manor you died in. But you were cursed in a different way because today you kept being taken by surprise.

That wasn’t something that happened very often with you because a not so commonly known fact about ghosts was that they actually had an exquisite sense of hearing. So in reality, you should have seen it all coming.

It first started with Alfred, the butler in the manor that you lived in. The two of you talked more than you did with most of the other ones, him always happy to have a lovely chat with you, who he had known since he first began working in the home.

You had begun a routine many decades back where every morning when the sun was just coming up and all of the curtains were thrown wide open from the windows, allowing beautiful light to illuminate the halls, you would take a stroll and admire its beauty.

Long ago, you had figured out all of the ins and outs of being what you were and had mastered the art of solidifying and un-solidifying yourself on command. It was mainly used when you wanted to grab something or when you actually wanted to walk instead of just floating a couple inches off the ground, like now.

What you hadn’t realized though, was that Alfred was just about to turn the corner at an intersection that you were just about to round as well.

The two of you both realized too late that the other person was there, and you both stumbled back, Alfred breathing out a small, “Oh,” of surprise.

You on the other hand, let out a terrified shriek, falling backwards, your hands flying up to your mouth. Not only were you not used to actually touching a human being- something you didn’t like doing- but you hadn’t heard him coming. Being snuck up on was something that hadn’t happened to you since before your death.

Alfred’s eyes widened for a different reason now, having never heard you speak above a whisper, let out a full blown yell.

“Y/n-“ He tried to speak, but you had already un-solidified and rushed into the nearest wall to get as far away from the situation as possible.

Whenever something was upsetting you, you always went to the attic, one of the only rooms almost never used, just for some alone time to clear your head. And that’s exactly what you did after your last exchange with Alfred until you had calmed down enough to leave once again.

To say that was weird would be an understatement, that had never happened to you before and it was puzzling to say the least.

You shook your head to yourself slightly, trying to laugh off the small error made by you as you walked in your materialized form, only to run into someone once again.

Jason barely budged from the impact, but his eyebrows raised in surprise, “What the-“

For the second time this morning, you let out a shriek, hands flying up to cover your mouth. As you turned on your heel to scurry away once more, you hit someone else, them being pushed back on impact this time.

“Hey, are you-“ Tim couldn’t even finish his sentence before you had pushed past him and disappeared into the nearest wall, leaving him and a very confused Jason behind.

When you returned to the attic, your head was buried in your hands and you shook it back and forth, trying to figure out what was the matter with you, only for you to run into someone- well, two someone’s. Again.

Damian and Bruce both adopted similar looks of shock, as you let another yell slip off of your lips, but this time it was one of frustration, because you yet again hadn’t sensed that they were there.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked softly.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, pulling your hands away from your face, “You just caught me by surprise.”

Damain raised an eyebrow, “I thought that didn’t happen to you?”

“I guess it does now,” Your voice was still soft as you spoke and you nervously played with your fingers.

The older man smiled softly, “That’s okay, Y/n, it happens to the best of us.”

Your head snapped up to him, “It does?”

He nodded his head, “Jason, Tim, and Alfred were just telling me about how this happened to them, and if that’s the case that means that their vigilante instincts aren’t sharp today.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“You say that you couldn’t hear them coming, but they also couldn’t hear you, which they normally could do.” He explained patiently.

Your mouth dropped open slightly in realization.

“It’s just an off day,” He continued softly.

You nodded your head along, mulling his words over, “Just an off day,” You finally agreed, looking at the duo with a small smile.

Perhaps you weren’t two times cursed after all.

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #batfam x reader platonic #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #damian wayne x reader platonic #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader platonic #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader platonic #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader platonic #bruce wayne x reader #tim drake x reader platonic #tim drake x reader #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x reader platonic #dc x reader #dc #batfamily #ghost reader

[munson-blurbs]

That blurb about Eddie hating his scars just gave me the biggest feels…. Could you maybe write about taking care of Eddie after he’s back from the upside down? Fluff-ganza and a little bit of angst helping with his wounds and nightmares … ah 🥹 love your blooooog ❤️

Warnings: language, blood, mentions of surgical procedures

WC: 2.6k

A/N: This was more fluff than angst, but I hope you like it! Please leave feedback <3

@princesseddie86 here is the fluff piece I promised you!

“Stay with me, Eddie, please,” you beg as you follow the gurney down the hospital corridor. You watch him take shallow breaths, hair matted to his face with blood.

He groans softly, unintelligible sounds leaving his lips. He’s shivering from the blood loss. You’re not even sure if he’s aware that you’re here, but you keep talking to him.

“You’re gonna be okay. You’re at the hospital; the doctors will take good care of you,” you promise, though you’re unsure what can be done.

The nurses surrounding him are listing different codes. It’s like a foreign language to you, but it might be better if you can’t understand it. They might be saying things you don’t want to hear.

The whole situation was so bizarre. You’d been friends with Robin Buckley since grade school; you were one of the few people she’d come out to. You thought it was crazy enough when she told you she was now friends with Steve Harrington, but what really sealed the deal was when she’d told you about an otherworldly realm dubbed the Upside Down. Oh, and now a demon-type entity named Vecna was brutally mutilating and killing random Hawkins teenagers, and maybe, pretty please, could you help them fight him?

Before joining their brigade of monster hunters, you hadn’t had much contact with Eddie Munson. For starters, you took honors classes, while he struggled to pass his introductory courses. You’d been privy to his many cafeteria table speeches, but never paid too much attention to them. You didn’t think he was a freak or running some satanic cult like many of your classmates assumed, but you didn’t really have anything to do with a slacker metalhead like Eddie.

Of course, that was before you actually got to know him. Before you saw the way he took care of the freshmen who idolized him, his passion for anything related to music, how he read dog-eared fantasy paperbacks until he had them memorized. Before you realized how much you cared for him.

You watch the doctors whisk him to the ICU, and it dawns on you that you might not ever get the chance to tell him.

~

Eddie’s uncle Wayne meets you at the hospital after Steve and Robin find him at the trailer park and fill him in on what happened. Well, sort of--it was too much to get into the whole “Upside Down” business, especially when his nephew’s life hung in limbo--so that would have to be a conversation for another day. 

You’re waiting in the waiting room, chewing on your fingernails, when he walks in solemnly. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and though he’s stoic now, his tear-stained cheeks reveal that he’s been crying. Your gaze meets his, and he comes over to sit with you.

“You Y/N?” he asks, and you nod numbly. “I’m, uh, Wayne, Eddie’s uncle.”

You try to offer a smile, though the effort makes it feel more like a grimace. “Eddie’s told me a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Of course. He told me all about how you raised him after his dad went to prison and his mom...” you trail off. Even the thought of death--anyone’s death--is too hard to think about right now.

Wayne nods. “Was the least I could do. My brother--Eddie’s old man--he and I were raised by our drunk of a dad. And that really messed with my brother. Messed with me, too, but maybe I missed some of it because I was younger.

“He started drinking, too; starting drinking too much, too fast, too young. Makin’ bad decisions, just like our dad. And after he got taken away, I couldn’t let Eddie fall into that same trap.” He pulls out a cigarette and looks at you. “Mind if I smoke?”

“No, that’s fine,” you reply softly, and he lights it. “Actually, could I bum one?”

Wayne gives you a knowing look. “’S not a good habit, y’know?”

“I don’t normally...only when I’m stressed.” You take a cigarette from him and lean in so he can light it.

“Don’t tell Eddie,” he whispers. “He won’t like me poisoning his girlfriend’s lungs.”

You choke, and it’s not from smoke inhalation. “We’re, um...I’m not his girlfriend,” you mumble. But I wish I was, you want to say.

Wayne lets out a small chuckle, then takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, if you say so.”

You want to ask him to elaborate when a nurse enters the waiting room. “Wayne Munson?” Wayne stands up quickly, motioning for you to join him. “Your nephew is out of surgery. You can see him now.”

“Okay,” he replies, “his girlfriend’s gonna come with me, if that’s all right?”

The nurse nods. “Of course.”

You don’t even bother to correct him this time.

~

The hospital doesn’t have any of Eddie’s favorite books; no copies of Lord of the Rings anywhere in the place. You settle for an old tattered copy of The Catcher in the Rye and read aloud to the sleeping boy next to you.

He still hasn’t woken up from the anesthesia, but you’re still relieved to see how calm he looks, his breaths even instead of ragged. They cleaned him up a bit so there’s no traces of dried blood on his face. He looks more like himself.

You’re still reading when you notice him stir ever so slightly, making your heart leap.

“E-Eddie?” you whisper, placing a hand over his, careful of his IV. “Eddie, can you hear me?”

He groans softly and promptly falls back to sleep. The nurses warned you that he might go in and out, that it was normal, but you just wanted him awake.

Wayne comes back in the room, holding a paper cup of water. He hands it to you and you accept it gratefully.

“Any news?” he asks.

“He just kinda...moved a little bit? And made a tiny noise. But that was it,” you report, disappointment written all over your face.

Wayne puts a hand on your shoulder. “I know it’s useless tellin’ y’this, but you don’t have to stay. I can call you from the payphone when he’s up.”

“I want to be here when he wakes up. Unless I’m in your way, and I can leave.” It hadn’t dawned on you that Wayne might want to be alone with Eddie, but the man just shakes his head.

“No, no. The company helps,” he reassures you. “Jus’ figured you need some rest.”

“I’m okay for now.” Okay is too strong a word; really, you’re barely surviving, but you can’t manage to go home. You turn your attention back to the book, clear your throat, and continue reading.

~

“Hello?”

The voice is quiet and gravelly, barely audible over the sounds of machines beeping and Wayne’s light snoring, but you hear it. You hear Eddie.

“Hi, sleepyhead.” You get up from the chair where you were half-sleeping and crouch by his bedside. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” he mutters. “What happened?”

You knit your brows, unable to hide your concern. “Do you...do you remember what happened? With the bats?”

He tries a laugh but ends up coughing, holding his torso in pain. “Fuck. Yeah, I remember those motherfuckers. Just not...after.”

“Well,” you start, “after you decided to be a hero, Dustin and I grabbed you and brought you back to Hawkins. You were so pale and shaky and...” Tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be brave for you.”

But Eddie’s not even listening to that part. “You and Henderson came back for me?” he asks incredulously.

You nod. “Of course. You know he worships the ground you walk on.”

“And you?”

Because I care about you. Because even though we’ve only been friends for a few days, I feel complete with you. Because now that I know you, really know you, I can’t live in a world without Eddie Munson.

“Because you’re my friend, Eddie,” you manage, swallowing down all of the other things you actually wanted to say. You look over at Wayne, who is still sleeping. “C’mon, let’s tell your uncle that you’re awake.”

~

Eddie is discharged from the hospital after three days. He has to use a cane to get around until he’s fully healed, which he complains makes him look elderly, but you reassure him that it looks totally metal.

You help Wayne get him into the trailer and onto the sofa, where he sits back with a grunt.

“Okay, I think my work here is done!” you announce and turn to Wayne. “Could I use your phone? Steve can pick me up.” You’d driven to and from the hospital in Wayne’s car, which meant either calling Steve for a ride or walking home.

“You’re leaving?” Eddie asks from his spot on the couch. Maybe you’re imagining it, but does he look...disappointed at the prospect of you going?

You laugh. “Taking care of you for three days straight wasn’t enough for you?” 

“No, I think I need you here full-time,” he says, pushing out his lower lip into a pout. “Y’know, bring me my meds, change my dressings, give me a sponge bath...”

That last comment earns him a thwap on the back of the head from his uncle. “Behave,” Wayne warns.

You roll your eyes, heading for the phone. “I have to go home and rest. Maybe see my parents, let them know I’m alive.” There’s more truth than sarcasm in that statement now with Hawkins seemingly crumbling around you. And you are exhausted.

“Okay,” he concedes, looking at you with his brown doe eyes, “can you come back tomorrow? Wayne can’t take any more days off from work.”

“I think I can manage that.” You call Steve, who was on his way back from volunteering at the school-turned-crisis-shelter, so it only took him five minutes to get to the trailer park. As you walk to his car, closing the door behind you, you hear Wayne’s gruff voice.

“Boy, if you don’t take that girl on a date once you’re healed up...”

~

Two weeks later, your phone rings just before 8 AM on a Sunday.

“Hello?” you croak groggily, stifling a yawn.

“Y/N!” Eddie’s voice booms through the receiver, jolting you awake.

“Eddie? Is everything okay?” You sit up so fast that dots form in front of your eyes, and you put a hand on the bed to steady yourself. You’ve been going to his trailer nearly every day, bringing him his homework and often staying to help him with it. The boy was determined to graduate this year, come hell or high water. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he says, like he’s just realized how early it is, “but can you come over now? I wanna show you something.”

You stretch and feel your back crack. “Sure. Let me just get dressed and I can be there in, like, half an hour?”

“Perfect.” You can sense his delight over the phone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just come in when you get here.”

“Sounds good.” You run a comb through your hair and throw it up in a loose bun. Pulling on some light wash jeans, you rummage through your dresser to find a shirt. You weigh your options carefully and laugh at yourself. This isn’t a fashion show, you’re just going to see Eddie. Why do you care about what you look like? 

You know why, you think, but push it away as you throw on an oversized navy blue shirt and finish the rest of your morning routine.

~

You gently push open the trailer door and see Eddie laying on the couch, reading The Catcher in the Rye.

“Hi,” he breathes, then holds up the book. “Someone never got to finish reading this to me, so I had Henderson check it out from the library.”

“You never read it in your ten years of high school?” you tease gently, placing your jacket on the chair near the door.

“Hey, it’s only six!” he protests. “And no. Probably was s’posed to, though.”

“Is that what you wanted to show me?”

“Nah,” he grins. “Watch this.”

Your eyes stay locked on him as he pushes himself up slowly, grimacing as he uses the arm of the sofa for balance. His cane is leaned up against it, but he doesn’t reach for it; instead, he takes careful, methodical steps without any mobility aid.

You feel a smile spreading across your face, though it’s a bit dampened with concern. Should he be walking by himself? you wonder, but allow him his moment. He’s so proud, so determined.

He gets to you and takes your hand gingerly. “Ta-da!”

You want to fling your arms around his neck and pull him in for the tightest hug of his life, but you’re not about to re-injure him, so you squeeze his hand instead.

“Look at you! You’ll be back to torturing the rest of Hellfire in no time!” You go to drop his hand, but he doesn’t let go. You think maybe he just needs to hold on for stability, but then he takes his other hand and wraps you in a hug.

“It’s all thanks to you,” he murmurs. 

“I think the doctors and nurses who stitched you back together deserve some credit,” you remind him, but you feel your cheeks burning.

You feel him shake his head. “I’m not talking about the medical stuff. I’m talking about the...trying again stuff.”

“Trying again?” you look up at him quizzically. 

Eddie sighs and leads you back to the couch. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I kept trying to walk a little more each day so I could meet you at the door to hug you.”

Your heart surges. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

It’s his turn to blush. “That’s me, y’know, the murderous satanic cult leader with a heart of gold.”

“What a coincidence,” you laugh, “that’s just my type.”

He lets out a small chuckle and takes your hand again. “Wanna know what my next goal is?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “I’m gonna work up the strength to take you out on a date. If, uh, if that’s okay with you.” 

“If that’s okay with...Eddie, of course that’s okay with me. It’s more than okay!” You rest your free hand on his knee. “But there’s no rush. We can hang out here and watch movies until you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”

And then something comes over him, a feeling that he ordinarily would’ve dismissed, but now he leans into it. He cups your chin and brings your lips to his, kissing you softly. Your body is tingling as you move your hand from his knee to his bicep, mindful of his healing wounds. 

A fleeting thought crosses your mind, leading you to break the kiss earlier than you wanted. He misinterprets this and apologizes quickly.

“Sorry, should’ve waited until we actually went on a date...” he sputters, playing with his rings.

“No, Eddie. I just...” you sigh deeply. “I’m worried that you only think you like me because I’ve been taking care of you. And then once you’re better, you’ll realize that...”

His jaw drops slightly in disbelief. “Y/N, I’ve been thinkin’ about you since Robin introduced us. And then when I realized that you’re cute and caring...” he trails off. “kinda fell for ya.”

“Oh,” you’re taken aback by his honest confession and allow yourself to fall back into his warm embrace. “Well, in that case...” you smile as you kiss him.

His shoulders relax and he holds you as close as he can.

“I’m never letting you go,” he promises, and you vow that you’ll never let him go, either.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff #requests

[altheasmeadow]

could you write some platonic!ateez x reader i neeeed more of them!! maybe something where reader is an idol too and has a panic/anxiety attack and they (or some of them) help reader?🤷🏼‍♀️

We're Here

Pairing: Platonic Ateez x fem reader

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, protective Wooyoung, and bad members of reader's group

Word Count: 696

Summary: In which after making a mistake at the biggest performance of the year she's riddled with anxiety.

A/N: I’d like everyone to remember anxiety and panic attacks can be different depending on who has them, yes some are similar but all are different

This was bad, like really bad. She could practically feel the glares from her members and management. One mis-step was all it took to almost cost her everything, at the biggest performance of the year as well.

The gasps rang through the crowd as she caught herself from falling and instead threw in her own move to keep the choreography going with no obvious mistakes. Her breath started catching after that, making the performance harder to complete, but she knew she couldn’t stop it would make it all worse, so with watery eyes she continued, even as everyone watched her turn red in the face with the lack of air. As soon as the performance finished and the lights turned off, the only thing she could hear was the thumping of her rapid heartbeat and footsteps racing towards her, her eyes closing in an attempt to calm herself.

When she was hoisted in the air she knew it wasn’t her members or her manager since none of them had the strength to pick her up in a bridal style hold. And when she opened her eyes she was in the Ateez dressing room, though only five members seemed to be in front of her, the other three could be heard arguing with someone down the hall. 

“Hey sweetness, how’re ya doin’” Mingi cooed, taking a soft approach to the attack that had calmed down a bit with distance from the situation but still lingered. 

Of course she couldn’t speak, it was a constant anytime she had an attack, speech just was not on her side. So she signed that she was okay to Yunho who had taken the time to learn sign language after he realized the extent of her panic attacks.

San took the moment to cuddle up to her side, the contact making her feel grounded and though her mind still felt hazy she could also make out Mingi rubbing her head gently, and Jongho humming a small tune while Yeosang stood a bit further not knowing exactly how to help but making sure nobody pushed any bounds to make her uncomfortable.

“You’re so selfish!” She heard her other members scream through the door, they had thought she just wanted attention by standing out, not realizing that if she hadn’t done that she could’ve ruined the whole performance. Her attention was stripped away from the screaming women as Mingi pressed their foreheads together, to signify his support for her.

She didn’t even hear Wooyoung cursing out her other members or Seonghwa trying to reel his gremlin back to his side, or even Hongjoong trying to stop Seonghwa frm stopping Wooyoung. She did however notice the three entering the room shortly after, security following them to make sure they didn’t cause another ruckus. 

“Those litt-” Wooyoung grumbled with a glare until Seonghwa nudged him to shut up.

“Oh honey,” The three cooed, rushing to push the others away and take their places, well Wooyoung and Seonghwa did, Hongjoong was busy pulling up his phone to complain to the company about the group's treatment of her. 

“We’re here, We’re always here. You did so well.” Seonghwa assured, running his index finger along her nose, his own signal, they all had one. After years of friendship with the boys she had come to notice that whenever they wanted to comfort her first there would be a cuddle pile, then it would be the individual reassurances that she wouldn’t be facing anything alone, Mingi had touching foreheads, Yunho had linking pinkies, Hongjoong would kiss the tip of his finger and place them to the tip of her finger, Seonghwa would run his index finger down her nose, Jongho would rub the space behind her ear with his thumb, Yeosang would tug on her hair gently, Wooyoung would run a finger along her spine, and San would pull her head under his chin. And as she felt the sensations one by one her heart rate slowed, and her breaths steadied. Her dazed brain cleared up and she now sleepily looked up at the men of her life with the sweetest smile, though weak, it did give them the reassurance that she was getting better.

#ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez angst #wooyoung x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #yunho x reader #kpop imagines #kpop idol x reader #idol x reader #kpop #fanfic #kpop scenarioes #idol imagines

[bakageta]

I think I'm gonna post Blue Beetle stuff here first and not worry about things like editing and coming up with a summary and thinking up a title. I'm running off vibes right now and don't wanna wait.

This is totally inspired by @wazzappp's anatomy post. I already wanted to do something about why it took (relatively) longer for Jaime's back to heal and that post just gave me more to write about. I wanna write more too! So throw body horror ideas at me plz!!!!

---

After the wake and the funeral and the burial and the mourning, after everything calmed down and everyone had a chance to breathe, Jaime looked at the scarab on his back again.

It wasn’t the first time he’d showered since everything, of course, but it was the first time he’d been able to focus on his thoughts instead of quietly disassociating until he was clean. Now he was appreciating the amenities in the hotel suite Jenny’d set the Reyes family up in while their home was repaired. There was a rainfall shower head. The toilet had an actual bidet that had sprayed Rudy’s ass the first time he’d taken a shit.

As always Khaji was ticking away in the back of his head, reassuringly present in a way Jaime didn’t want to look too closely at yet. It didn’t say anything though.

“Soap won’t bother you, right?” He hadn’t scrubbed himself down in a week or so. Partly because he’d been busy and then distracted, but also because just the shampoo running down his back during the first shower after it all had burned at the raw edges between his skin and Khaji Da.

Correct. We are fully healed now.

“Bien.” He squeezed the last of the sample sized hotel soap onto a washcloth and reached over his shoulder to start scrubbing. The scarab between his shoulder blades is anchored firmly, he can feel its legs under his muscles. 

That wasn’t a surprise. Jaime had felt every moment of Khaji burrowing up his spine and digging a home in his back. What was new was the strange… straps? the straps crossed above his shoulders and under his arms beneath his skin. They came from the scarab, where its front and back legs would be like, like it was some kind of awful fucking backpack.

“Khaji?” Jaime dropped the washcloth and shifted so he was able to trace up his spine. The three knots of alien tissue that Khaji had left like breadcrumbs also had straps running below his skin. Bending forward, Jaime realized he was able to feel where the straps anchored and the dips in his back where nothing had changed. “What am I feeling Khaji?”

The anchors for my carapace and sensory nodes. It hesitated, something it had only started doing after, as it started to learn when and when not to elaborate. They secure me and reduce the risk of damage or dislodgement. The growth of new tissue is why your back took so long to heal. Our efforts were split: your body prioritized your epidermis and my systems prioritized my security.

Sure. That made sense. Self preservation was a thing for alien symbiotes. The odd tug Jaime’d felt moving around was the growth of Khaji’s anchors and not muscle soreness like he’d assumed. Or maybe Khaji’s anchors counted as muscles. Wonderful. It also answered a question he’d never thought to ask: why his back had looked so bad for so long while cuts and scrapes healed in minutes. Great.

The hotel probably didn’t let guests on the roof.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t get there.

Jaime waited until after his shower, after Millagro took over the bathroom, after he hugged Mama and Nana, and after he swore up and down to Rudy that he wasn’t gonna fly off, to go to the roof. He made his way up the stairs, shorted out the electronic lock with a subtle lick of blue energy, and laid down on the flat gravel and tar paper roof. Like this he could feel Khaji and its nodes digging into his back alongside larger chunks of stone, foreign objects embedded in his body.

The sky was clear, but this close to Palmera, the stars might as well be invisible except for the most bright. Still enough to ground Jaime, to make him feel a part of life when everything was too much. A jet flew overhead, beacon flashing against the night. Jaime wondered if it was coming or going. 

Flight DL1332 is on approach to Palmera International, Khaji intoned.

“Huh. How d’you figure?” Jaime folded his hands behind his head to cushion it. 

After a moment the itching growth of the blue beetle’s carapace spread across the backs of his hands and arms. It stopped short of the full thickness armor Khaji was capable of, only forming the tough black underlayer.

They are communicating using radio frequencies. It is not difficult to interpret.

“Cool.”

Would you like to listen?

Jaime sighed. “Sure.”

Static faded into Jaime’s ears, interrupted regularly by steady trailing voices. It was calming. Like listening to another language, even though the pilots and controllers were still speaking English.

#my writing #the doc title is Operation pimp my ride #Operation pimp my ride #Jaime: if I ignore it everything will be fine #Khaji: I am helping and also doing a good job #but srs plz reply or reblog or ask me ideas for this kinda thing #blue beetle #blue beetle movie #blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes #khaji da

[kenjakusbrainstem]

What Fear... (Mahito x Reader x Kenjaku)

Contains: vomiting, extreme dubcon, nonconsenual drugging, kidnapping, gender neutral reader, body horror, Mahito has two cocks and many hands, use of idle transfiguration.

Heyo, it's been a hot minute since I wrote an x reader, sorry about that. I just got super into writing for certain ships. This started as a drabble while listening to Ptolemaea but I got too into it, hopefully its enjoyable and not too much! I wrote and typed this with a broken arm so its a little more special. Reblog and reply if you're interested, cross posted to ao3!

The first thing you noticed upon waking was the sick feeling in your stomach. It didn’t make sense, you’d paced yourself drinking. If your dizzy mind was to be believed then you had only had one drink before switching to water. Since you were out alone you knew you hadn’t taken any shots but - oh. A wave of nausea  swept over you and along with it a memory. Long black hair and a fox-like grin on the man sliding up next to you at the bar with a wave to the bartender.

Hot, acidic bile left your lips, splashing onto the floor next to you as you recall your insistence that you were done drinking for the night. His face was a blur, your head throbbed as you tried to recall anything other than the strange stitching on his forehead. The sound of his voice still rang in your ears however.

“I’ll have another, can I get a water for this one?” he gestured to you while nodding to the bartender. The only thing you could remember about the bartender was the high blonde ponytail atop his head as he grabbed the drinks the stranger requested. “It’s okay, you don’t need to be drunk for us to chat.”

You coughed after vomiting, expecting more bile to follow. Thankfully that was the last for the time being you opened your eyes. Surprised by the darkness that surrounded you, as you couldn’t even see the hand you knew you were holding in front of your eyes.

The only clues to your location were the cold, damp concrete on which you’d previously been knocked out on. Feeling around the ground for something, you accidentally sat your hand down in your own vomit. A disgusted groan left your lips before you felt more rising up your esophagus at the feeling in your hand.

As you threw up again you were surprised to hear the sound of a heavy door opening and shutting behind you. The continued absence of light unsettled you even more than your lack of memory. You were already in this predicament, you just had to focus on getting out before worrying what led you here.

Wherever here is.

Wiping your mouth again,you attempted once more to look around the room. Straining your eyes against the black to try and make out the door you know you heard. A fruitless effort again. There was nothing you could see.

You took a deep breath before attempting to rise to your knees. The throbbing from your head flowed into the rest of your sore and stiff body.

If you could just find a wall, you reasoned that you’d be able to follow it until you reached the door. It was the only solution your mind had conjured up. Legs trembling like a newborn fawn, you slowly stood with your arms outstretched as if to balance you on the tightrope that was what little hope remained in your mind.

Chest heaving with the deep breaths you hadn’t realized you were taking, you attempted to breathe more evenly. You needed to calm down. Everything around you and your memories screamed panic, but you knew you had to think to escape.

Stretching your arms out in front of you, you tried to step. Yet you hadn’t accounted for how weak your limbs truly were, stumbling and slipping you braced yourself for a harsh impact that never came.

The cool softness of ‘something’ surrounded your body. It was as if four or five cold tendrils had wrapped around your torso to stop you from falling. They cradled the front of your body as you felt smaller tendrils digging into your side. The sensation went from your hips up to your shoulder, like 20 fingers were digging into your soft flesh.

A sound that was supposed to be a scream escaped your lips before turning into another coughing fit. Your throat was too raw to properly express the horror you felt.

The myriad fingers dug into your flesh as your body convulsed with each cough. You struggled against the sharp grip as it attempted to hold you still. Feeling your body be manipulated, you struggled harder. The feeling of being pulled upright, the arm-like tendrils crushed you against a cold, obviously male torso.

You felt more than heard the strange body that held you captive shake with what seemed to be laughter. The harder you struggled, the tighter you were held. Your already aching body throbbed at the pressure being applied. Once again attempting to calm yourself down, you heard the voice of the stranger from the bar in your head telling you not to panic.

Though your body trembled with fear like a small prey animal, you stopped thrashing. Now you were able to hear the light chuckle from your captor, his breath on your ear as the arm-like tendrils loosened. You relaxed a bit, perhaps despite everything that had happened, he could be reasoned with.

As that thought crossed your mind however, it was forced right out. The ground you’d been anticipating finally came as your body was thrown down. A foolish attempt to break your fall with your hands rewarded you with an intense pain and a cracking sound from your arm. Holding it to your chest in pain you felt yourself begin to cry. Not loud like the scream you tried to make, but a soft pitiful sound.

“Aw~ this toy is already broken,” the soft voice from above you pouted. Dread filled you at the uncertain fate assigned to one labeled a broken toy.

Through your closed eyes you could tell the room was now illuminated. The glow burned your still closed eyelids. Trying to peak was futile, your eyes burned too much for you to gather any useful information even in the dim light. Whatever you’d been drugged with must still be in your system if the even more intense pain in your head was anything to go by.

“I go out and get you a nice new toy, bring it back for you and you still break it before you’re able to get any practice with it? Not quite the reaction I expected from you,” a more familiar, deeper voice spoke. The voice was further away but it was obviously the man from the bar. His charming tone had relaxed you then, and the comfort it gave you now repulsed you.

Again you tried to open your eyes, determined to see through the pain and tears. Though your vision blurred momentarily you were able to make out a man standing directly in front of you. His appearance was unfamiliar and haunting with three extra arms protruding from his side.

You blinked rapidly, hoping the double vision would go away soon. When you stopped trying to clear your sight, the horror building inside you doubled at the realization that the man's limbs weren’t moving.

The multi-armed man took a step toward you, grin wide across his face. In trying to look away from his arms your eyes trailed up his muscular torso to his face. Familiar stitches scattered across his pale flesh, snaking around his body and up under his long hair. The man was attractive, hauntingly so. You were certain if he had the normal amount of limbs and this was a different scenario, you’d be interested in him.

Here and now though, you felt your stomach churn with disgust.

“You’re scaring them already. At least make them comfortable, I’ve told you this process works best when the subject is relaxed,” the familiar voice spoke again. You craned your neck to look behind the monster before you. There a tall man with long black hair stood with his back resting against the wall. Through the haze of your memories you could still recognize the man from the bar.

The light in the room wasn’t coming from him exactly, but from the creature that floated above his head. It was like nothing you’d seen before, worm-like and luminescent, lighting up the room as it swam through the air above him. The light it cast wasn’t bright, but enough that you wished to be returned to darkness.

You felt your stomach turn again as you watched the monster before you lose his multiple arms. Staring in shock as they sunk back into his body as if they had never been there to begin with.

“Riiiight~ you wanted me to practice on this one? I don’t understand why I can’t just keep using you until we find the lucky human you actually want to use,” the monster asked as he approached you slowly. He stood towering above you, feet on either side of your legs as you leaned back, cradling your broken arm.

He squatted down, still straddling your legs before reaching out to you. His hands hovered above your legs but it still felt like he was touching you. As if he were touching you more intimately than any other despite making no contact with your flesh, like he was touching your soul.

You looked up, past his now normal torso and looked into his eyes. There was a lack of any emotion in them, other than a resigned curiosity. As if he wasn’t much more pleased with this than you were. Averting your gaze, you met the eyes of the man that got you into this mess.

“Mahito, this is just a practice toy. You don’t need to draw it out more than necessary, I just need you to prove that you can fuck them to completion without my hands guiding you,” the dark haired man spoke, eyes never leaving yours. His words washed over you but the disbelief you felt was insurmountable.

The hands that had been hovering above your legs now pressed into your skin, slipping under the material of your shorts. Reflexively you fought back, kicking up and making contact between his legs. To your surprise, he didn’t move at all. If you needed any more reason to doubt this monster’s humanity, here it was.

His fingers tightened, rising up to rip the fabric of the flimsy jeans you wore in one smooth motion. The cool air on your hot skin made you shudder.Squirming back, you tried desperately to get away from his touch. 

“Hold still, it’ll make it easier. The other toys liked it when they relaxed,” the man you assumed was Mahito said. His hands cut through your underwear with ease, as if he held a blade to you.

You’d never felt more fully exposed.

The sudden feeling of his semi-hard cock pressing against your thigh alarmed you. When had he had the chance to remove his pants? Everything was moving so fast, you barely had time to wonder when he abruptly forced the head of his cock inside you.

You gasped at the intrusion, he was still as he waited for you to catch your breath. Or that’s what you assumed he was doing. Your body adjusted to the not too painful intrusion, it seemed he wasn’t very well endowed. As he slowly bottomed out inside you, a relief filled you. This could have been much worse.

Mahito’s thrusts slowly increased in speed,but honestly you didn’t mind. The pain you felt upon him entering had faded and the friction was starting to feel good. It was the humiliation that kept your moans from leaving your throat as anything other than a choking noise.

You heard a scoff from behind the man inside of you, it seemed the stranger was displeased with how his gift was being handled. You watched as he walked closer, standing beside your trembling form. The situation was so bizarre, you wondered how you were still surprised by anything as he knelt down next to you.

“We both know you can fuck better than this, you didn’t have any issue when you were inside me. Why the trouble now? Do you still need me to hold your hand or will you be able to breed properly when the time comes?” the man from the bar asked. While the question had nothing to do with you, it did confuse you. Everything felt fine, even if you were nothing more than a tool to them, part of you wanted to defend Mahito.

A soft whimper left Mahito’s lips, the confusion on your face must have turned to a look of bewilderment as you watched him behave like he was the one being forced. The slow thrusts within you stilled as the dark haired man laid a hand on your stomach.

“Geto~ it’s not my fault, you said starting out smaller made it easier but it barely feels like anything,” Mahito whined. The statement didn’t make sense to you though you supposed it wasn’t meant to. You cradled your broken arm closer to your chest in an attempt to soothe yourself. What could he have meant by starting out small when he started by shoving his cock inside you?

The hand on your stomach pressed down until it was uncomfortable. You weren’t sure you wanted to understand what was going on between the two men.

The stranger from the bar, Geto you assumed, brought his other hand up to Mahito’s face. The gentleness with which they touched one another surprised you when compared with your treatment. You could feel your disgust for the situation waning with every throb of the cock inside you. While the drugs were probably still in your system, perhaps that’s why your panic was subsiding.

Because you couldn’t be enjoying this, that would be absurd.

You watched Geto pull Mahito’s face closer to his own. The two kissed each other with a ferocity you hadn’t expected from a kiss. You shouldn’t have been surprised considering what they had done, but to watch them kiss with a practiced violence shocked you. Mahito whimpered into the kiss, his thrusts picking up speed as if the other’s tongue was encouragement enough.

Suddenly you were pulled out of your observant thoughts by the strange sensation inside of you. Your jaw dropped open as the feeling of being split in two ripped through your body. The cock that felt so nice inside you had nearly tripled in size, the pain overwhelming as you tasted the tears now streaming down your face.

A sound you hadn't realized was your screaming was suddenly cut off when a hand covered your mouth. You whined pitifully and tried again to squirm away from the too big cock inside of you. He wasn’t thrusting hard, but any movement at this size felt as if it would tear you apart. His hands gripped your hips as your body was held in place so Mahito could increase the speed.

Opening your tear filled eyes was a mistake you wished you could take back. When you felt the hand on your lips you’d assumed it was Geto for some reason. The truth was that once again, more arms had sprouted from Mahito’s flesh. Feeling the hands on you and watching as they moved along with his thrusts made you wish the drugs could knock you out again.

Despite the passion in his thrusts you could tell Mahito was much more interested in Geto than you. His eyes closed as they continued to kiss, a line of drool leaking down his chin. Small moans left his throat and you could feel the thick cock throbbing inside you.

With the thrusts keeping a steady rhythm, it had started to feel pleasurable again, despite the burning feeling the stretch added. It was already clear that you were little more than a toy to him, you hoped that meant once he was finished that you’d just be discarded.

“You’re still scaring your toy, I told you it's easier if you make sure they enjoy it at least a little. Just because I can take you like that doesn’t mean everyone can,” Geto spoke as he disconnected their lips. Even if you hadn’t been watching, you could tell by the loss of focus in Mahito’s thrusts that he wasn’t chasing his own pleasure, this was for Geto.

Mahito whined, the thrusts becoming more painful than pleasurable again as he tried to follow Geto’s lips with his own. Unfortunately for him, Geto had turned his attention to you. The hand that was pressing into your stomach slid up your torso and to your face, patting you on the cheek. He smiled, turning more to face you instead of Mahito.

“Geto, why can’t I just fuck you? You're more fun than these crying toys,” Mahito begged, the man sounded more desperate than you expected. 

Everything felt so surreal, what was the point of abducting you just to complain about having to fuck you? Your head was spinning with how quickly things had gotten this far.

Geto sighed as he climbed on top of you, using your injured arm for support. The way he settled on top of you made it seem like you were meant to ignore Mahito. You felt Geto adjust himself, flipping up his long robes as if to expose himself to the man behind you both.

“For the sake of my plans you need to get used to fucking someone other than me, but for now I’ll lay like this and you can pretend it’s me,” Geto spoke as he leaned down so that his chest was touching yours. You weren’t sure if you were glad to have the distraction from the thick cock inside you or if it was overwhelming to have his face so close to yours.

The hand over your mouth left you gasping for air as it moved, sliding up Geto’s face and down his side. The erratic thrusts inside you slowed, Mahito choosing to bury his cock deep inside you as he payed more attention to the man on top of you.

Panic started to set in at how full you felt, the pain in your guts was almost unbearable. You could feel yourself starting to cry again with every second he spent buried inside you.

The soft press of lips against your own surprised you, eyes opening wide at the feeling. Dark eyes curtained by dark hair stared playfully down at you before they fluttered closed. As Geto kissed you, you began to feel more grounded, his warm body engulfing yours in a way that was somehow comforting.

He slowly deepened the kiss as you felt his warm tongue slip into your mouth. You felt yourself starting to kiss back, mind on autopilot responding to the new pleasurable stimuli. It was as if he were soothing your panicked thoughts with just his lips. He was like the drug that had gotten you into this mess, emptying your mind like you’d been cursed.

You gasped into the kiss as you felt Mahito pull himself almost completely out of you. Using your shock to deepen the kiss, you felt Geto’s tongue fully invade your mouth. Confusion filled you as you felt shuffling from behind you, unsure of what was going to happen next but too distracted by the tongue in your mouth to worry about it.

The brief comfort was ripped from you as you were abruptly filled again. The force knocking the air from your lungs as you gasped for breath, the kiss broken as you felt Geto also gasp for air. Mahito’s pace had returned as his sharp thrusts were slamming into the deepest parts of you. Somehow it felt like he was going deeper with every thrust.

Sharp teeth sunk into your bottom lip, you could taste the blood filling your mouth as Geto started kissing you again. His comforting touch changing so suddenly surprised you, but by the look on his face you could tell he was going through the same feelings as you were. A flush not there before dusted his cheeks and you could even see his eyes had glossed over as if he were on the verge of tears.

You didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what was going on, however unimaginable it was. Mahito must have been fucking into both of you at the same time. Your mind reeled at the idea, but if he could have numerous hands, what was stopping him from two cocks? You shuddered as he kept fucking into both of your bodies.

Mahito moaned, a desperate keening noise as his speed increased.A harsh slapping sound filled the air, accompanied by a moan from Geto above you. Mahito’s pace felt almost desperate, maybe he couldn’t take the sensation of fucking two people at once.

Craning your neck, your lips met Geto’s again, the kiss was more violent, more like the one you’d watched them share earlier. The taste of blood in your mouths egging you on as you forced your tongue into his moaning mouth. You could feel yourself growing hot with each pass of your tongues together. Both of you moaning into the kiss at the way you were being fucked so deeply.

With the pace of each thrust becoming more erratic and the desperate whimpers behind you, you could tell Mahito was close. His nails dug into your hips making it impossible for you to lose yourself in the kiss with the thick cock slamming into you. Surprisingly you felt yourself nearing release, it seemed to come out of nowhere but with the pleasure surrounding you and filling you up it was bound to happen. Now that you weren’t focused on the pain all you could feel was how he was hitting spots inside of you that you never thought could make you feel this way.

A few more erratic thrusts and you could feel your whole body shake as you reached your orgasm. The tightness must have been too much for Mahito as well because you felt a hot liquid spill deep inside of you. A chorus of moans from all three of you as each of you reached your end.

Breathing heavily you felt your body become more limp than when you’d been drugged, exhaustion set in quickly. The bodies on to of you were quick to recover though, Geto moving himself off of you before Mahito even had a chance to pull out. You lay there panting as you watched Geto adjust his robes as he stood, somewhat shakily.

“We aren’t done, but that wasn’t so bad was it?” Geto asked, despite his attempt at sounding in control of himself, you noted the strain in his voice. 

Mahito removed his thick cock from your body, you watched again as the myriad limbs sunk back into his flesh, leaving just two arms. He looked fucked out, as if he’d been the one getting fucked instead of doing the fucking. A sly smile graced his patchwork features though.

“I think I’ll keep this one around, just to remember this,” Mahito said. Was he referring to you? You weren’t entirely sure what he meant but you felt his hands on your thighs again. It was too late for you to be afraid. “Idle transfiguration.”

Mahito giggled to himself as he watched your body shrink down into a small apple shaped ball of flesh. He would keep you, but he had no interest in keeping you alive.

#kenjaku x reader #mahito x reader #mahito x kenjaku x reader #getomahi #getomahi x reader #jjk x reader #gender neutral reader #jjk smut #kenjaku smut #mahito smut #mahito #kenjaku

[frodo-cinnamonroll]

Hi, I am also a Frodo lover and would like to know if you could write an imagine about dating Frodo and thank you for taking the time to read this.

Here Always

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: nothin' but fluff here

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've had a bit of a busy week. I hope you enjoy it. Hopefully the content will make up for my tardiness.

__________________________________

“Y/N. Y/N.”

You started awake. You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep. Gandalf stood above you, a hand on your shoulder.

“Gandalf!” you cried, standing. “Oh dear I fell asleep! Is Frodo alright? Has anything happened?”

Gandalf smiled down at you. “Frodo is alright. Elrond has cured him of the wound from the Nazgûl blade. He will be out of his room in a minute.”

You jumped up and gave Gandalf a hug. “Thank you for looking after him. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

Gandalf smiled down at you. “Of course, of course. I must talk with Elrond now, so I will see you later.”

“Alright then. Good day.”

Gandalf nodded and walked off. You paced the floor, looking over the balcony nearby at Rivendell, breathing in the free air. When Frodo had been stabbed by the Nazgûl, Arwen, an elf you had bonded with almost immediately, had taken him to Rivendell in much haste. You had been left behind, since Arwen’s horse couldn’t carry multiple hobbits and an elf. You had been very distraught since then, not attempting to hold back your fear. Strider had led you, Sam, Merry, and Pippin as quickly as you could manage to Rivendell. Ever since you had arrived, you and Sam had hardly slept. You had stayed right by Frodo’s side as long as Elrond would let you. Finally, though, he had asked you to stand out of the way so you had taken a seat on a soft recamier that sat right outside Frodo’s room and, apparently, you had fallen asleep. 

But you were awake now, and all was well now that Frodo was healed. For the first time since your arrival, you were able to take in the beauty of the Hidden Valley. You felt wholly at peace. You rested your chin and arms on the balcony’s edge, closing your eyes and listening to the song of a waterfall not far away.

“Y/N,” a soft voice behind you called.

You whirled around. Frodo stood there, alive and well. A smile was on his face and in his eyes.

“Frodo!” You leapt into his open arms, hugging him as tight as you could without hurting him. “Frodo! I was so frightened when you left! I thought . . . I thought . . .” You could not finish the sentence for you were so overwhelmed with joy that it spilled out of your heart and eyes.

“I am here,” Frodo said, stroking your head. “I shan’t leave you. I will not.”

For a few sweet moments, the two of you held each other in the golden sunlight of the day, not saying anything because nothing needed to be said. Then Sam, Merry, and Pippin ran up and there was much joy in the reunion. Everyone was talking at once, full of merriment and delight. You couldn’t describe how glad you were to see a smile on Frodo’s face again and life in his lovely eyes. His laugh was priceless and endlessly pleasant to listen to. It healed any remnants of fear and doubt that lingered in your heart, filling it (if it was possible) with even more joy. It was then that Frodo spotted Bilbo sitting not far away on a stone bench.

“Bilbo!” Frodo cried, running up to give him a hug.

“Frodo, my lad!” Bilbo said, returning the gesture. “And you too, Y/N. Come on!” He beckoned you to join the hug. You didn’t object.

You had been quite close to Bilbo ever since you and Frodo had started courting. You had loved the old hobbit dearly and you had helped him a lot with his book. You were fascinated by his tales of his adventures and, like Frodo, had secretly wished to go on an adventure of your own some day. That day had come sooner than you had thought, but you weren’t going to complain. Everything was alright and you were happy.

“Come,” Bilbo said at last, “I have things to show you both.” And he led the two of you off.

⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘

You and Frodo spent most of the day with Bilbo. He had made much progress in his book and you were quite delighted to see the beautiful thing. Bilbo also showed you around Rivendell a bit. You saw stunning waterfalls, exquisite marble buildings, and ancient trees. The elves were all very nice but also mysterious, not in a bad way necessarily. You could see some deep meaning in their eyes that seemed beyond your reach of thought, something sad and wise. You didn’t bother much about it though, for you thought it would possibly be thought rude to ask about it if ever you could put it into words.

Towards sunset as the day bid farewell, painting the sky stunning colors, Bilbo left you and Frodo to talk to Gandalf a bit, wherever he might have been. Frodo then offered you his arm and you walked slowly down the paths Bilbo had shown you earlier.

“It has been quite a day,” Frodo said, laying his head on yours which rested on his shoulder.

“Indeed it has,” you said, closing your eyes. “I’m just glad I got to spend it with you.”

“As am I.” Frodo smiled at you, something that filled you with warmth no matter what, and kissed your head so gently you barely felt it.

You reached out your hand and caressed his cheek with the utmost care and then brushed back a rouge hair from his face.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“And I love you, Y/N. More than I can say.” Frodo tenderly pressed his forehead against yours.

“Mr. Frodo!”

You and Frodo suddenly let go and you turned to face Sam who had appeared now in front of you. Frodo’s face flushed and you avoided Sam’s gaze and scuffed a leaf that lay on the ground, smiling.

“Oh . . .” Sam said, scratching his head. “Sorry Mr. Frodo. Begging your pardon, and you too Miss Y/N. I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“What is it, Sam?” Frodo asked.

“Well, I was just going to say that Pippin told me that Bilbo told him that tonight the elves are hosting a feast in your honor. There’s going to be singing and dancing and lots of food. It’ll be a jolly good time! I best get ready now.” With that Sam went off and disappeared.

“Singing and dancing,” you said, looking at Frodo. “Sounds to me like a good time. I wonder how elvish parties compare to our hobbit ones?”

“I guess we will find out,” Frodo said. You took his arm again and then you headed off. The sun lowered below the mountains just then, and many torches were lit simultaneously. You could see shapes of elves and other figures making their way towards the Hall of Fire, where the banquet was to be held.

⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘

It was a good time indeed. There were foods of the like which you had never seen before that had wonderful tastes. Everything was delicious. Elrond, Strider, Arwen, Gandalf, and all the hobbits were present along with many elves and even some people from other lands. You had heard whispers of some council being held the next day but Gandalf wouldn’t tell you anything. You didn’t fret too much and decided to enjoy the night. 

After the feast finished, everyone migrated to the central part of the Hall where many fires were lit. The walls glowed subtle orange like that of clay or rust with flickers of flashing yellow. Immediately, some of the elves started singing in their tongue a song of days long past. You and Frodo sat on a small couch-like seat along the wall and watched them. As they sang, though you knew not what they said, you could see in your mind oceans and mountains, plains and forests, elves dancing, beasts roaming, and silver stars lighting an endless night. For some reason you did not understand, it brought tears to your eyes and try as you might, you couldn’t hold them back. Frodo put his arm around you and you leaned into him, smiling. The elves sang many songs, some sad and sweet, some lively and filled with laughter.

A good while passed and you and Frodo were watching everything intently and full of wonder. Finally, Strider stood with Arwen and the elves formed a ring around them with their partners. The ones playing the instruments began a calm and happy song that started out slow at first. As Arwen and Strider gilded flawlessly over the floor, they beckoned you to join the company.

“Come,” Strider said as they passed by. “Come, both of you, and join the dance.��

“I do not prefer to dance in front of so many,” you said.

“It is a blessed dance,” Arwen replied. “You will be glad for it.”

“Would it be alright if we just sat here?” Frodo asked meekly.

“Come! Join us!” Strider beckoned again.

You looked at Frodo whose face was as indecisive as you felt. He met your gaze and Strider bade you both to join them again. Some of the other elves insisted too.

“Let us see how the halflings meet the music,” they said.

Finally, you gave way. Frodo stood and held out his hand and you took it. The ring of elves parted to allow the two of you into the middle. Frodo guided you to the middle where Strider and Arwen were swaying in perfect rhythm. They seemed to be anticipating a change in the song. Frodo held your hands in his own and glanced around unsure of what to do next.

“I am not entirely sure what we are doing, exactly,” Frodo whispered to you.

“Neither am I,” you whispered back.

“Follow where the music leads,” Arwen called. “Move your feet and the song will take care of the rest.”

You started out like Strider and Arwen, moving slowly and staying in step, but just as you had presumed, the music began to quicken. Arwen and Strider moved quicker but not less smoothly. You and Frodo followed, quickening your steps. The elves were happy that you had joined and were comfortable enough to do such a daring thing. They cared less whether or not your movement was pleasurable. Suddenly, the music took a leap and those around you started clapping in rhythm. The instruments sang louder and faster now.

“Let us show them how hobbits meet music,” Frodo said with a smile. He didn’t seem as nervous now. You weren’t either, only a little.

You grinned. “Shall we?”

All in one moment, you and Frodo picked up your pace, dancing in brilliant hobbit fashion. You both were rather used to moving with fast-paced music, as was tradition at most parties. The two of you skipped around and laughed as you did. Frodo twirled you and led you steadily through. All that were watching were delighted, but especially Sam, Merry, and Pippin who almost joined in themselves. More took part in the clapping and Arwen and Strider stepped out of the circle to give the two of you space. The song was ever heightening and quickening. Soon, you thought your feet barely touched the floor, but Frodo made sure neither of you fell. Finally, the song came to its end with a sudden leap and everyone clapped. Frodo laughed and you couldn’t stop smiling from the exuberance of it all.

“Halflings can meet the music indeed!” Aragorn said, patting Frodo on the shoulder.

“I hope we did not disappoint,” Frodo said.

“No, you went beyond expectation, Mr. Underhill. A fine couple the two of you make.”

You looked away bashfully and Frodo smiled, looking down. Frodo then gave you his arm and led you off the dancing floor.

“That was something,” you said at last, sitting down.

“Indeed. It wasn’t too much to ask, I hope?” Frodo said.

“Oh, no. In front of so many people is slightly uncomfortable, but someone once said that there are better things than being comfortable. I guess it is good to do something you normally wouldn’t every now and then, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Frodo looked at the arched doorway of the Hall of Fire. Night was full and the moon was high. “I would like to walk out there tonight. Would you like to come?”

“Of course,” you said, standing. “I don’t want to leave your side again.”

Frodo put his arm around you and the two of you disappeared unnoticed, at least, you thought you were unnoticed, but the others let you be, smiling at your tender affection. You and Frodo walked much like you had earlier that day, with your head on his shoulder, taking in the beauty of it all. And the night was beautiful indeed. Other than the elves singing, there were the waterfalls and crickets. Everything was brushed gently in the moon and starlight. Everything felt peaceful, as if nothing was wrong in the world. Of course, you knew that wasn’t true, but in Rivendell it was, and you were wholly content to be with Frodo. You wanted nothing else, and that much you made rather plain. You noticed now that Frodo was looking at you.

“Is . . . is something on your mind Y/N?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing much, really,” you said. “I love this place, Rivendell. Bilbo was right, it is magnificent. It is wonderful but more than that, I am glad you are here and are well. I’ve never known such fear and loneliness as when you left, but I also have never known such joy and gratitude as when you came back. You mean more to me than I could properly describe and I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Frodo said. “I do know it and I love you for it. I love you the same, though I am no poet. I wouldn’t ask for another, Y/N. I never would. Whether we go home after this, or something other, I want you to know that I am extremely thankful that you are here. I want you here always. I want to be here always.”

“And I will be here always,” you said, smiling. “I mean that as a promise, Mr. Underhill.”

“Then I double the promise,” Frodo said, holding you in his arms. “I shall be here always.”

#frodo x reader #frodo baggins #frodo x you #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fanfiction #hobbit x reader #hobbits #lotr x reader #rivendell #fanfic #requested #requested fic #lotr fluff #fluffy fic

[41319kbex]

Hell Hath No Fury (10/?)

Thanks so much everyone for the kind words on the last chapter. I really love hearing all your thoughts! As some of you may have guessed, I am going to have to eventually do a time jump in the timeline…it’s just not feasible to write three months of summer the way I’m doing…not to mention I’m going to eventually run out of ways to ramp up the sexual tension without giving them and you a payoff! I also haven’t decided if I’m going to do a big time jump, or a series of smaller time jumps (if ya’ll have opinions, feel free to weigh in!), and there won’t really be a time jump of more than a week in this one, but I want to let you know that it will eventually happen.

All that said, this chapter is going to start with them waking up from where they went to bed in the last chapter.

I still don’t own Castle…

xxxxx

Kate woke up to the feeling of her back laying on something solid that did not feel like the soft mattress she'd fallen asleep on. She opened her eyes and realized her back was mostly laying on Castle's chest; in fact, she was half laying on him. She figured he must have rolled onto his back partially in his sleep, and his arms around her had taken her with him. She shifted slightly just to get a little more comfortable, but since he was still sleeping, she was going to take a few extra moments before getting up to enjoy the closeness…the way their legs were tangled, the feel of his hand on the skin of her stomach underneath her shirt as he held her close, the soft, almost satiny feel of the fabric of his boxers as the fingers of her left hand lightly stroked along his thigh. Breathing as deeply as she dared before her ribs could protest, she closed her eyes and took it all in.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when she finally opened her eyes again, she looked over at the clock. 6:23. It was earlier than she expected him to wake up, but she needed to get out of bed, or at least out of the position she was in with him; the longer she remained tangled with him like that, the longer she spent running her fingers along his thigh, the more chance she had of her self control slipping because her fingers wanted to stroke other things.

Deciding this was as good a morning as any to go get her coffee and watch the sun rise from the balcony, she carefully untangled their legs and slipped out of his arms. She spotted a sweatshirt of his tossed casually over a chair and she slipped it on to fight the sudden chill caused by being away from both the warmth of his body and his sheets. She paused for another moment to make sure he wasn’t going to wake up before quietly padding barefoot through his house to the kitchen to make some coffee.

She startled slightly when she saw the older gentleman in the kitchen already. Right. Alfred. “Oh, hi,” she greeted a little shyly. She had not expected his butler to be there already.

“Good morning, Miss Beckett. Is everything okay?”

“Yes…sorry. I just didn’t realize you would be here this early.”

Alfred nodded. “I’m here at 6 every morning during the week. I do a check of the house to prioritize what I should start on first. I was just about to come collect Mr. Castle’s clothes to do his laundry.”

Kate’s eyes widened slightly. If she hadn’t gotten up when she did, the butler would have walked in on them in their position. She made a mental note to tell Castle he should ask his butler to grab his laundry AFTER they were out of bed from now on. “Right. Um…I just came for some coffee…”

“Yes Ma’am. Allow me,” the older gentleman shifted to the coffee maker to start it up. “Will you just be taking your cup, or will you be bringing Mr. Castle a cup as well?” he asked her, his eyes twinkling slightly.

Her cheeks flushed; apparently the butler was aware they were sharing a bedroom now. “I can take his,” she answered. She figured if he hadn’t woken up by the time she was finished with her cup, she could always just drink his.

He nodded, fixing two cups of coffee for her. “Would you like me to bring breakfast to your room? Or have it waiting in here?”

“In here is fine,” she answered, her cheeks growing hot again.

“Very good, Ma’am. Do you have a request for breakfast?”

She thought for a minute. “Actually, I’d really like some pancakes.”

“Yes Ma’am. Mr. Castle has instructed me to have breakfast ready at 8:30 every morning. Should I make it later?”

“No, Alfred…8:30 is fine…” she took the cups of coffee he handed her, her cheeks flaming as she made a hasty retreat back to their…his…bedroom. She wasn’t embarrassed by being with him…they were two consenting adults, after all. Kate was just a private person, and someone she didn’t know very well knowing the private details of her sleeping arrangements was just a little unnerving to her as she adjusted to this new relationship.

She placed the coffee on his nightstand as she passed through the room to hopefully draw him out of his slumber. She did pause before she got to the French doors to look at him sleeping. He was kind of adorable in a sexy way. Taking a sip of her coffee, she smiled before opening the

doors and moving out to enjoy the morning view from the balcony.

It was almost 20 minutes later when he joined her on the balcony, his coffee in one hand and wrapping his other arm around her from behind. “Don’t you ever sleep in?” he asked her, dropping a soft kiss to her shoulder.

She laughed softly into her own coffee cup as she took a drink. “I’m usually a morning person. I’m not sure why that would surprise you.”

“You could have stayed in bed with me…” he pouted.

She turned her face to meet his with a clearly amused smile. “I’m not really one to lounge around in bed when I’m awake either,” she informed him.

“But we could have cuddled…”

“I told you last night; I’m not big on cuddling.” She might learn to be because she realized he liked it, but that morning would not have been the morning to start. Her thoughts were too focused on sexy times that they couldn’t have yet, and as the responsible adult in the relationship, she had gotten herself out of the situation before it could become a situation. “Besides, I’m glad I got up when I did.”

“Why?”

“Because your butler was about 5 minutes from coming in the bedroom to get your laundry,” she answered pointedly.

“So? He does that several mornings a week.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t been in your bed other mornings,” she informed him, hoping the coffee he was drinking would kick in at some point and his brain would wake up.

“Right…” he nodded, trying to follow along. “Right!” he realized finally.

“Yeah…and what if we had been in the middle of something else?” she asked him. “If I’m going to share your bed, I just want to know that I’m not going to have someone walk in looking to pick up laundry while we’re sleeping…or other things…”

He nodded again. “Right. I’ll ask him to do his laundry pickup after we are out of bed.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, finishing the coffee in her cup. “I like him though, so tell him nicely.”

He chuckled softly. “I will.”

xxxxx

Somehow he had convinced her to play videogames with him, and though it wasn’t normally her thing, she had agreed. “Castle, I work with dead bodies and guns all day. The last thing I want to do when I come home is play a shooting game where I kill people,” she had told him.

“But you’ll be great at it. And it’s fun. You’ll see,” he had promised her.

So after him telling her how the game controls worked and explaining the basics, she had agreed to join him on his campaign. And she had to admit, it had actually been kind of fun. Not something she would necessarily do all the time, but something she could see herself enjoying doing with him on occasion. And he had been right; she was good at it. So good, in fact, that on Friday before she left, he had insisted she play against him…just a little friendly competition.

“Are you sure?” she asked him. “Castle, I’m a very competitive person.”

“Of course I’m sure. I’m not worried, you just started playing this game. Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You’ll take it easy on me?”

“Yeah, I promise,” he smiled.

She silently stared at him for a moment. “Fine. I’ll play against you. But don’t take it easy on me. When I kick your ass, I don’t want you to have any excuses.”

He laughed at that. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll be kicking my ass.”

She had to bite her lip to keep from resorting to his level of childishness. “We’ll see,” was all she said.

Barely half an hour later, Castle sat staring in disbelief at the television screen. Kate hadn’t just kicked his ass, she’d completely annihilated him. He wasn’t even sure how it had happened.

“Come on, Castle, walk me out. The car service should be here any minute to take me back to the city,” she handed him the controller and patted his leg. Seeing him still staring at the TV, she laughed softly. “I told you I was a competitive person.”

He finally turned the screen off and put the controllers down. “I just don’t understand how…you haven’t played until this week!” he almost whined.

She gave him a smile and a shrug. “Don’t take it personally, Castle. I’m just better at using my fingers than you are,” she said so casually, her comment laced with innuendo and her eyes dancing playfully as she turned to head out of his office toward the front door to check for the car.

Her comment had him blinking after her in disbelief. He wasn’t sure how to feel in that moment…turned on or disappointed. It took a few moments to pick up his wounded pride, but he eventually followed her to the door to see her off.

“You know, you really don’t have to go,” he told her.

Smiling, she shook her head. “I really do. I’m out of clothes again, and I promised Lanie a girl’s night this weekend. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her for awhile, and she’s just worried about me. The last time I really talked to her was the day you were shot…she just wants to make sure I’m handling everything ok and not disappearing into myself.”

He nodded. “Are you going to tell her about us?” he asked curiously.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she admitted. “Lanie likes to interrogate me about you, so it’s possible after a few glasses of wine I might say something…” she smiled a little. “But she’ll keep it a secret if I ask her to.”

“Is that what you want? To keep it a secret?” he asked her softly.

She inhaled slowly as she thought about his question. “Maybe for a little while from most people. Obviously your family should know…but I haven’t told my dad. I might tell Lanie…but…it’s just easier to figure out a new relationship if everyone isn’t suddenly commenting on it, you know? I’m kind of not ready to share us with everyone yet,” she tried to explain. “Maybe not keep it a secret, just…don’t broadcast it,” she suggested. “Don’t deny it, and if someone we don’t tell directly figures it out, they figure it out.”

“I can do that. It’s not like there’s a ton of people here to figure it out anyway,” he smiled, opening the door as the car pulled up. “It’s one reason I like it out here. I get privacy.”

She smiled at that sentiment. “I’ll see you on Sunday,” she murmured, leaning in for a long, slow kiss goodbye before finally pulling away and getting into the car.

xxxxx

“Hey, Pumpkin. You got a minute?” Castle asked his daughter when he found her reading on the couch in the living room.

She looked up and met his eyes with a smile. “Sure, Dad.”

He gently lifted her feet so he could sit down and then placed them in his lap. He wasn’t really sure how he should start this conversation. He wasn’t sure if he should just come right out and tell her, or try to feel out how she felt about Beckett first. “Hey, you remember last summer when I asked Beckett to spend Memorial Day weekend here, and she said no?”

“Yeah, and then you asked Gina, and started that whole train wreck again…” she commented, but gave him a sympathetic smile to take the bite out of her words.

“How would you feel if I asked Beckett to come again?” he asked her softly.

Alexis shrugged. “Alright I guess. Do you think she’ll say yes this time?”

He smiled slightly. “I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes this time.”

She studied her father for a few moments; this was more than his general brand of cocky confidence. He stated this as pretty much a fact. “I think what you mean to say is, you've already asked her and she's already agreed.”

“Something like that," he chuckled. "Is that okay with you?” he asked her seriously.

“Does it matter? If I say no, are you going to take back your invitation?” she asked him simply.

Now it was his turn to study his daughter. Was she upset with him for asking Beckett without consulting her first, or was she upset he had asked Beckett at all? Or was it option three and she wasn’t upset, only continuing the conversation? “Um…no, I’m not,” he finally admitted honestly. “Alexis…are you upset with Kate?”

“Kate?” she asked. Since when did his father called Beckett Kate? And then it hit her. “Dad, are you and Beckett…?” But she already knew that answer just from the way her father had said Kate’s name.

“Would it upset you if I told you yes?”

Alexis was quiet for a few minutes. “Yes…no…I don’t know…” she started. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He smiled and gently rubbed her ankle. “I’m not going to get hurt.”

“Right. Like you weren’t shot taking a bullet for her. Or how about almost freezing to death in a freezer with her? Or one of the dozens of other times you’ve been in a life threatening situation because of her?” she pointed out.

He breathed deeply before pulling her into a hug. “Hey, it’s not your job to worry about me, ok? I’m not going anywhere. Dating her has nothing to do with any of those situations. She’s got my back. She’s a great cop, and a great partner,” he promised her. “And if it helps, she’s already read me the riot act several times about getting shot for her, so trust me…I fear her enough not to do it again,” he tried to lighten the mood with a smile.

She sighed softly. “And what if you guys don’t work out? I’ve seen how you get when you fight with her. Or when she’s kicked you out of the precinct,” she pointed out.

“Most of the time when I’ve been kicked out of the precinct, it’s been my own fault,” he told her. “And yes…we fight sometimes. She’s as stubborn as I am. And she drives me crazy sometimes. But she’s also the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met.”

“This isn't just you asking her for a weekend or casually dating her...you love her, don’t you?” Alexis realized softly.

Castle nodded with a smile. “Yeah, Pumpkin. I do.”

“Does she love you?”

“Yes,” he answered confidently. Kate may not have said the exact words to him, but he knew her well enough to read between the lines of the words she had said to him in combination with her actions. He had no doubts Kate felt the same way about him that he felt about her.

She thought about it for a few moments, remembering how Kate had been at the hospital when Castle was in surgery, how despite her own feelings, she had tried to be there for Alexis, and afterward, how relieved she had been to see him awake. She wasn't sure if that was proof of her love, but it seemed to be enough for now. “Then yes. I’m ok if she comes out here for Memorial Day.”

“How about all summer?”

Alexis raised an eyebrow at that. “All summer?”

Castle realized Alexis didn’t know she was suspended or out on medical leave. “She went after the shooter. Her new captain didn’t necessarily agree with her methods, so she can’t return to work until September. She’s…actually been here the last two weeks and went back to the city on the weekends…” he told her with a small smile, hoping that wouldn’t upset her.

“Oh…” she digested that information. “You’re a bad influence on her, Dad!”

“Wait, what? How is this my fault?” Castle asked, wondering when his daughter had suddenly taken Kate’s side.

Alexis shrugged. “She seems pretty by the book to me since I’ve met her. This has to be your influence. You’re the one who breaks rules.”

“Thanks, Pumpkin. I’m so glad we had this talk,” he shook his head, removing her feet from his lap so that he could stand up.

“Hey Dad? I really am happy for you,” she told him with a smile. “Don’t screw this up.”

He chuckled softly. “I’ll try not to.”

xxxxx

“How are you holding up, Kate?” Lanie asked her friend, settling onto the stool at her counter as Kate poured them each a glass of wine. “I haven’t heard from you since that day at the hospital. Javi told me you found the shooter, and he’s dead. He told me you’re suspended until September. I know you…you keep this all inside, and you’re going to be a bomb ready to go off.”

Kate took a sip from her glass, settling on a stool to face her friend. “I��m okay, really. I’ve…made peace with it, as odd as that sounds.”

Lanie just eyed her suspiciously. “What do you mean you ‘made peace with it?’”

She shrugged. “I mean, the guy who shot Castle is dead. I don’t have a lead to run with on my mom’s case…and I can’t really do anything but serve out my suspension. Do I like all of those scenarios? No, of course not. But I’m…dealing,” she said honestly.

“Yeah, but how you are dealing? You got beat up pretty good on that roof and then suspended, and I didn’t hear from you to even find out if you were okay. I had to hear it all from Javi.”

Kate wrinkled her nose slightly at that. “I’m sorry. I just…haven’t been in the city.”

“Did you go do that brooding thing you do at your dad’s cabin?” Lanie asked simply.

“I don’t do a ‘brooding thing.’ And no, I wasn’t at my dad’s cabin.”

“First of all, Kate Beckett, you absolutely do do a brooding thing,” Lanie started. “If you haven’t been at your dad’s cabin, then where have you been, and what has had you so busy that you couldn’t call your best friend and at least tell me that you’re ok?”

Kate was quiet for a moment. “The Hamptons,” she murmured just as she took a long drink of

her wine.

“I’m sorry, the what now?” Lanie wasn’t sure she’d heard her correctly.

“The Hamptons,” she said again, tugging her lower lip between her teeth. The only person they knew who had a place in the Hamptons was Castle; she waited for her friend to connect the dots.

Lanie’s eyes widened slightly and she got a knowing smile. “Oh I see how you've been dealing with everything. You’ve been too busy getting your freak on with Writer Boy to think about me.” Seeing Kate about to open her mouth, Lanie’s smile grew. “No need to apologize. I’ve seen the chemistry between the two of you since the beginning. After 3 years, I’m surprised you came up for air long enough to have a girl’s night with me.”

“Lanie, it’s not like that,” Kate blushed slightly.

“Wait, you're not together? So if not Castle, then who or what have you been doing in the Hamptons for two weeks?”

“We are…it’s just that I’ve got broken ribs, and he’s still recovering…that’s not exactly a set-up for a romantic getaway,” she smiled slightly.

“You’re telling me that you’re staying in his Hampton’s house together…alone…you’ve admitted how you feel about each other, and you’re not having sex?” Lanie didn’t believe that for a second. “You haven’t even tried?”

Kate laughed, taking another drink of wine. “Sleeping in the same bed, even.”

“You’re sleeping with him, but not sleeping with him?” Lanie took a big drink of her wine then. “Girl, I haven’t had enough wine for that to make sense.”

Kate laughed again, offering her friend the bottle to refill her glass. “I’m honestly not sure how much longer either of us are going to last though. We’ve been…close. Thankfully he’s got a butler this summer who has impeccable timing.”

“Wait, Castle hired a butler?” Lanie shook her head.

“He said it hurt his ego less than hiring a home health nurse,” she smiled.

“Ah. Men and their egos.”

“And Castle’s is one of the biggest I’ve seen,” Kate commented without thinking. “Not what I

meant, Lanie,” she laughed when she caught the look on the medical examiner’s face. “I haven’t seen…you know what…not going there. Anyway…I was going to ask…you’re a doctor. When is it safe to…you know?” she asked before taking another drink.

“You want me to give you permission to have sex with Castle? Is that what tonight is about?” Lanie teased.

“I’m serious…death by sex isn’t exactly what I’m going for.”

“Okay, okay,” Lanie laughed softly. “Broken ribs are usually pretty stable unless there's more trauma inflicted on the same spot, so it’s really only a question of your pain tolerance. I mean, I wouldn’t try anything too crazy, but you can get your basic freak on with broken ribs so long as you can tolerate the pain of heavy breathing and he doesn’t get too rough with his hands near your injury.”

“And what about him?” Kate asked then.

“I honestly can’t give you an answer without knowing how badly his heart was damaged from the gunshot. Sex gets your heart rate up pretty high if you’re doing it right…I don’t want to tell you it’s all good and then you kill the guy.”

Kate and set her glass on the counter before running her hands through her hair. “This is killing me,” she murmured in frustration.

“You should have listened to me and jumped that man when I first told you to. If you had, you wouldn’t have 3 years worth of sexual frustration built up ready to explode like a Mentos dropped in Diet Coke,” Lanie told her friend with a laugh.

“Now is not the time for an ‘I told you so,’ Lanie,” Kate groaned.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…funny. You spent 3 years denying how much you want that man, and now that you’re ready, you’re the one stuck waiting for him to be ready. Even you have to admit that’s a little funny.”

“The irony is not lost on me, believe me. I would just appreciate it more if I wasn’t so damn frustrated,” Kate murmured.

“You don’t have to be frustrated. I said you could do things as long as you can tolerate the pain. So do things with him. Or, more accurately, let Writer Boy do things to you. Things that won’t get his heart rate too high...I'm sure his fingers are strong from all the typing he does...” Lanie suggested with a smile.

Kate’s cheeks flushed slightly as she picked up on what her friend was suggesting. “That’s not really fair to him, though…”

“Do you want to be fair to him, or do you want to get some relief?”

“Both,” she answered. “Plus I’m not sure that’s a good idea…it seems like playing with fire, because I’m not sure either of us would stop even if it were just one-sided,” Kate admitted.

“Then you better hope his butler continues to have impeccable timing and enjoy cold showers until his doctor gives him the all clear.” Seeing her friend’s frustrated face at that answer, Lanie gave her a sympathetic smile. “It shouldn’t be too long. As soon as his doctor tells him it’s safe to start getting his heart rate up, you should be fine to do whatever he can tolerate. In fact, when he is supposed to start getting his heart rate up, sex is probably going to be good for him. Nothing crazy,” she cut her friend a teasing look, “but enough to give you both what you want.” She paused again, as both women took a drink. “So…you and Castle, huh?”

Kate smiled slightly. “About that…we aren’t ready to start broadcasting our relationship, so if you could….”

Lanie mimicked a key turning at her lips. “My lips are sealed. Not even Javi,” she promised her friend.

“Thank you.”

"You can thank me with details once you two finally do the deed," she smiled, causing Kate to both smile and blush again.

xxxxx

She’d told Castle she wouldn’t need his car service this weekend, but she hadn’t told him why. She’d tested out how her ribs felt with a shorter bike ride to make sure she’d be okay for a longer trip, and it when she found it didn’t bother her as much as the position in a car, she decided she’d surprise Castle by bringing her bike to the Hamptons.

Her black leather jacket was zipped over a white t-shirt, and she’d even worn her black leather riding pants. She didn’t always wear leather pants when she rode; most of the time, she actually just wore jeans. But she couldn’t resist the urge to wear them, if for no other reason than to give Castle the full effect of seeing her on her bike for the first time.

She figured he was watching for her, same as last week, but she made sure to rev the engine a few times as she pulled into the driveway to grab his attention. She was rewarded when he didn’t just open the door, but actually came outside to the driveway to see her on the bike, the look on his face a priceless mix of arousal, excitement and awe. “Hey,” she greeted him with a

smile as she pulled her helmet off and shook her hair out.

“You brought your bike…” he commented, making no effort to hide the way his eyes were travelling over her hungrily.

“I did,” she smiled, killing the engine before dismounting.

“And you wore leather…”

She laughed softly. “I did,” she closed the short distance between them and placed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Wow,” he murmured, looking from her, to the bike, and back to her.

“Wow, Castle. I can't tell, are you more excited to see me, or the bike?” she asked with another laugh.

“I’m more excited to see you on the bike…in those pants…” he told her honestly with a smile, his eyes travelling back over her. “Will you get back on it?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No,” she told him, unhooking her bag and grabbing it to take it inside. “But if you behave, I might take you for a ride,” she gave him a playful smile as she walked past him into the house.

So many thoughts filled his head with her simple remark, and he let a few of them play through his head before he followed her inside.

xxxxx

I know this was a lengthy chapter, but it covered most of the things I wanted to do before I hit a time jump. Next chapter will be Memorial Day weekend, and then I’ll have to decide how far ahead I want to go with a time jump. I look forward to all your thoughts and comments!

#caskett #castle #kate beckett #richard castle #beckett #caskett fanfiction #castle fanfiction

[songofthesibyl]

The Lark Ascending

A Tamlin POV set during the time in his youth when he was friends with Rhysand.

Like a kite Cut from the string, Lightly the soul of my youth Has taken flight

—Ishikawa Takuboku

  “About time,” Rhys said, tapping his foot.

     Tamlin smiled, setting down his pack. “Were you waiting with bated breath?”

     Rhys rolled his eyes. “You know how difficult it is for me to get away.”

     “Yes. I do.” It was difficult for him to get away, too. He hadn’t expected anything beyond the first meeting—a meeting out of pity, no doubt. Rhys had admitted as much. But in that charming way of his that made it seem like a compliment. And yet when they had a chance to see each other again. And again. For months, now. It still didn’t feel real.

     He realized he had never really had a friend before.

     “So you really make a big thing of Nynsar?” Rhys asked.

     “Not as much as with Calan Mai. But it is the arrival of spring. Whether delayed or not.”

     “The spreading of seeds, and all that.” Rhys sat down against a pine tree.

     “Something like that.” He joined him on the grass nearby, the corners of his mouth starting to lift in anticipation.

     “Not that you haven’t been doing plenty of that lately.”

     There it was. He turned away, chuckling, a slight heat to his face. When he turned back, Rhys was gazing on him idly.

     “It’s so easy to make you blush. Strange considering how much time you’ve spent in the pleasure houses lately.”

     Tamlin adjusted his position on the grass.

     Rhys laughed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m certainly not.”

     “I’m not sure you know what shame is.”

     “No. Perhaps not. But I’m serious. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed. It’s all natural.”

     “It’s certainly helped me in the poetry contests.” He cringed—he had said too much.

     Rhys sat up straight. “What?”

     “It’s—never mind.”

     But Rhys leaned forward, that mischievous, almost predatory look of delight on his face. “Poetry contests? Since when do you have time for poetry contests?”

     “In between fiddle concerts.”

     Rhys tipped back his head, laughing, then looked on him, a spark in his eyes. “No, really. What contests?”

     “At the camps. Sometimes at night, we—“

    “Jerk each other off? Yeah, everyone knows about that.”

    He gave him a look.

    “Im sorry,” he said, stifling laughter. “Go ahead.”

    “Sometimes we do—get bored. So we write…limericks. The worst, and dirtiest one wins.”

    Rhys searched his eyes. “And you actually participate in this?”

    “And win. Thanks in part to my education in the pleasure houses.”

    He crossed his arms. “And what do you get when you win?”

    Tamlin shrugged. “Bragging rights.” He added before Rhys could step in, “Not a handjob.”

    Rhys bit his lip before responding. “You’re learning. But just bragging rights?”

    “It’s just a silly game.” That he took incredibly seriously.

    “You like poetry, then? Along with music?” He began to rifle through his own pack.

    “I…dabble.”

    Rhys smiled at his choice of words, but kept his eyes on whatever was in his pack.

    “My mother is the real poet. She writes verses…for songs. On her harp. Sometimes I accompany her on the fiddle.”

    Rhys finally looked up at him, lifting an eyebrow. “You don’t sing, do you?”

    “As far as you’re concerned, no. What are you doing in there?”

    Rhys seemed almost hesitant. Shy, for a moment. But reached in, and took out a parcel wrapped in the brocades of the Night Court. Dark purple and black with designs in gold and silver of moons, stars, and comets. He held it for a moment before handing it over. All playfulness was gone. He was in one of his rare moments of naked sincerity.

    Tamlin took it, examining the fabric. “Beautiful.” As was everything associated with the Night Court. He felt such peace just looking at it. As if he were gazing into the starlight pool.

    “Open it.”

    He lifted his brows, but didn’t question him. Instead unwrapping the cloth. Inside was a bandolier with a set of the Illyrian fighting knives Rhys had been training him with.

    “Rhys, what—“

    “So you can practice on your own. Unless you plan on defeating your enemies with bad poetry.”

    He laughed slightly, but his smile faded, and he looked into Rhys’ star-flecked eyes.

    “Rhys…I can’t accept this.”

    He looked away demurely. “Consider it a late Solstice present.”

    “But I have nothing for you.”

    The playfulness returned to his face. “How about one of your poems?”

    He chuckled. “For this? It’s hardly a fair trade.”

    “Like I said. It’s a gift. But if you want to give me something in return…”

    Tamlin smiled, carefully setting the knives and cloth down, and went into his own pack, grabbing a pencil and paper.

    “You’re going to write it right now?”

    “I told you, I’m…well versed in limericks by now.”

    Rhys rolled his eyes. “I weep for the future of your Court.”

    “You and me both.”

    Rhys stared at him as he wrote, and crossed out, and wrote again, smiling.

    “What?”

    “You’re already so different from the person I met at Solstice. And thank the Cauldron for it.”

    He looked up at him with a wry smile. “I thought you told me to accept myself as I am?”

    “When did I say that? But see, that’s already different. You wouldn’t have said that to me before. Too busy stammering.”

    He said nothing, but continued writing.

    “…But I’m glad I could help dislodge the stick up your ass every Spring Court citizen gets issued at birth. Part of the way anyway.”

    He grinned. “Stop, I’m trying to concentrate.”

    “Exactly how long do these contests last?”

    “Not that long.” He tore a scrap of the paper, and handed it to him. “Here. I don’t know that it’s my best, but—“

    Rhys grinned, and began reading.

     “There once was a male born of the Night.      Who made all the females squeal with fright.      But rumors of his size      That would put out their eyes      Were nothing compared to the male’s bite.”

     His smile deepened, and he lifted his eyes to him. “This is rather complimentary.”

     “It’s a gift. And I did say they were just rumors.”

     “I would say substantiated, if you’ve been talking to all those females you’ve visited.” He held out his hand, beckoning. “Give me the pencil.”

     Tamlin looked at him incredulously. “What, you can’t handle not being the best at something?”

     “I couldn’t tell you, I’ve never had that experience before. Again, just ask the females.”

     He rolled his eyes, and handed him the pencil, crossing his arms and arching his brow. Rhys had a wicked smile, quietly laughing to himself as he composed. Tamlin was silent and patient, curious to see this side of him. That he would feel competitive with him, of all people. It did not take much time for him to put down his pencil, though, and hand the paper over.

     Tamlin lifted his brows again in surprise and curiosity, and read it out loud, immediately beginning to stifle laughter.

     “There once was a male from the Spring Court      Who thought loose ladies weren’t his sort      But whose member sprung out      At each female about      Until Spring had come in every port.”

     He burst out laughing. “Rhys, I didn’t know you were such a poet.”

     “One of my many gifts. So have I won this round?”

     Tamlin smiled at him. “Beginner’s luck.”

     Rhys lay back against the tree trunk again with his arms crossed behind his head, smug and satisfied. “Think of another one over Nynsar. And don’t hold back.”

     “I wouldn’t dream of it. What will you do over Nynsar?”

     Rhys looked at him briefly, a thoughtful, almost tender look. Then closed his eyes. “The Night Court has its own ways to observe the coming of spring.”

     Tamlin laughed again, and Rhys opened his eyes, sitting upright with a start. “I swear, I didn’t mean that one.”

     They both dissolved into giggles, collapsing onto the earth until it subsided. Then remaining there, lying in silence. Tamlin breathed in the earth, closing his eyes, listening to the swaying of the grass in the wind. No training, or life lessons, today. They simply lay there, enjoying each other’s company, without masks or obligations. No observing and being observed. Nothing at all but themselves. He had never felt so at ease with someone before. Even the land—wild, and rough, the hilly terrain dotted with pine, juniper, and seas of purple heather. It fit his proportions better, he settled more easily into its grooves. The tidy, small nature of the Spring Court—meadows and blossoms and manicured gardens—was stifling compared to this.

     Maybe not the gardens, though. Not hers.

     He turned over, looking at Rhys, who was lying on his back, basking in the sun.

     “I’d like to see, though,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “how you celebrate the…equinox. Starfall, right?”

     Rhys remained on his back, saying nothing, and Tamlin wondered if he was asleep. But then Rhys turned towards him, opening his eyes, and propping his head on his arm. He had that same distant, dreamy look in his eyes from earlier.

     “I’d like that too. Some day.”

     A shadow passed over them. Tamlin sighed. “Your friends don’t like me.”

     “They’re my family. And they don’t know you as anything other than the heir to an enemy Court. They’re just being protective.”

     “Yeah. I guess I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

     Rhys stared at him. “Yes, you do.”

     He wanted to say something, but Rhys turned again, looking up at the big sky overhead.

     “Don’t worry, the holiday will be over soon enough. You’ll be back to writing doggerel in no time.”

     “One can hope.”

     Rhys chuckled. “Well, I suppose we should get going.” He sat up.

     Tamlin reluctantly did the same, eyeing his pack. “Rhys, really…I don’t know how to thank you for—“

     “There’s no need. Write me more poetry, if you like. Maybe an ode.”

     Tamlin smiled, and they stood up.

     “And…probably don’t show those to the High Lord.”

     “No.”

     “Ok, enjoy the holiday.”

     “You too.”

     Rhys waited for him in his reluctance to go. But he would have to winnow first. He could not be found in the Night Court alone. Rhys gave him a sympathetic smile, and he pictured it as he was pulled hundreds of miles back to his own Court. There was a melancholy feeling that passed over him briefly, and a heaviness—but it was shorter, and lighter, with every visit. The manor was no longer his home. He never intended it to be again. Heir or not. It would never happen. He would determine his own future. And so he stepped lightly over the meadows and glens. The earth didn’t hold him so strongly. Soon, he felt, he would not step on the ground at all.

     A plant cut from its roots. A fluff of dandelion floating in the air. The lark ascending.

     He held his pack close to him as he approached the manor.

     “Young lord,” the sentry at the door said, “Welcome home. Happy Nynsar.”

     “Thank you, same to you.” He tried not to make the reason for his next question obvious. But it probably was. “Are my father and brothers home?”

     “…No, my lord. But your mother is in.”

     He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face. He couldn’t have received better news upon his arrival.

     “Thank you.” He nearly skipped as he made his way through the halls, finding out from the servants his mother was in the library. It would have been his first guess, though. He wondered briefly where his father and brothers were.

     Probably out hunting babies who couldn’t pay the Tithe.

     He stood in the doorway of the library, staring at her. She had her back to him, sitting at one of the tables. Writing. Her long blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, studded with wildflowers. A barrette of purple hyacinths pulled some of it back, and she wore a white gown with embroidered ivy trailing throughout. He felt tears come to his eyes, looking at her. He didn’t know why.

     But of course, he did.

     “Mother.”

     She rose from her seat, turning towards him with bright green eyes. “Tamlin!”

     And nearly ran to him. He dropped his pack carefully on the floor, and embraced her, holding her close and exchanging kisses on each cheek.

     She pulled back, holding onto his arms, and looking him up and down. “Look at you!” She squeezed his arms. “Your muscles get bigger every time I see you. And you’ve got some color on your face.” She smiled. “You look good.”

     “And you look beautiful,” he replied.

     She shrugged, still smiling. “For Nynsar.”

     She preferred it to Calan Mai. He did too. He didn’t like how she was then. How his father was with her.

     “What were you writing?”

     “Oh, just some poetry.”

     He couldn’t help but smile, stifling a laugh.

     “What? Is there something funny about that?”

     “No, mother,” he said. “You know I love your poetry. It’s just I was writing some poetry too earlier.”

     “For the holiday?”

     He ruffled his hair. “Uh, sort of.”

     “What, what is it? Can I see?”

     “Uh, no…I don’t think you want to read it.”

     “Why not, I’m sure it’s lovely.”

     “It’s…” He felt his face get hot. “They’re limericks. And not any good.”

     She crossed her arms, giving him an amused smile. “Oh, really?”

     “Mom…”

     “Come,” she laughed, taking his arm. “Sit with me.” She led him to a couch, sitting beside him.

     “They…they won’t be back for awhile?”

     Her smile faded somewhat. “No. Not until tonight. They’re out hunting.”

     He turned aside, smirking, then turned back.

     His mother stared at him.

     “What?”

     “You really do look good, Tam. Happy.”

     “I…don’t mind the camps.”

     “I—I’m glad.” She looked down for a moment.

     “I miss you, though.”

     She looked up again, a sweet smile on her face. “Oh, I miss you too. But I—is that all there is?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “These past few months…you’ve seemed…different. Almost…giddy. Are you sure it’s just the camps?”

     He smiled. Ever observant. He could have brushed off her intuition. But he wanted to tell someone. He wanted to tell her. He once thought she’d be the only friend he’d ever have.

     “It’s…”

     She brushed his hair from his face. “What? What is it?”

     “You know…” He looked towards the closed door.

     “We’re alone,” she said.

     He turned back to her. Still speaking in a lower voice. “Rhys—Rhysand. The heir to the Night Court.”

     Her smile was gone. “I know of him.”

     “He’s…he reached out to me. On the Winter Solstice.”

     She sat back. “Reached out.”

     “He’s been helping me train. Illyrian techniques. His mother’s people.”

     “Yes, I know.”

     “You know how they belittle him for it. His father’s mate…how they look down on him for it. Simply for being born.”

     She gave him a look of understanding.�� “Yes. I know.”

     “I know how it sounds. What you’ll say. What anyone would…it’s not a trick. I thought it was, too. It took time for me to trust him. It was the same for him. But we do…trust each other. I just came from there.”

     “His Court? Tamlin…”

     “It’s alright. His family knows.”

     “They—they do.”

     “Well, some of them.”

     “How long have they…”

     The whole time, he thought. But didn’t say, pressing his lips together instead.

     “And you felt…you couldn’t tell me…”

     “It’s not you…” He looked at her drawn expression, missing the brightness, and the smile. “I’m sorry.”

     “No,” she breathed in, shaking her head. “I understand. I’m glad you’ve found someone to talk to. He’s a true friend?”

     He smiled tentatively, getting up and bringing his pack over to her, then sitting back down and taking the parcel out, and handing it to her.

     “He gave me this today. Open it.”

     She glanced at him briefly as he handed it to her. She held it for a moment then unwrapped it, silently, looking at the bandolier with a somewhat sorrowful expression. His heart dropped.

     “They’re beautiful,” she said, the sadness seeping into her voice.

     “But…”

     “I just worry for you. It’s what a mother does.”

     “We’ve been careful. He doesn’t have an agenda, mother, I swear—“

     “No, honey, I believe you. It’s not that.”

     “And I’ll keep them hidden. I’m…used to hiding things from them.”

     “Yes, I know. It’s not that…” She handed him the parcel and stood up, walking to the table she’d been working at, picking up a piece of paper, and sitting back down at his side. “It still needs some work.”

     He put the parcel on the floor and took the paper from her, reading the poem on it silently.

     “I see him, soft and sweetness of lilac      Of the tender shoots that yellow and green      Of the willow’s sway and of calling back      Her song and his song of the world unseen.      The markers that run deep, the songs unheard      A plucking of taut strings by the reeds      The blossoms sway at his every word      He already has everything he needs.      The rains of Spring can run cold, arresting life      The violence of its winds and of its whims      But the softness that yields outlasts the knife      That soon breaks as it’s thrusted through limbs.           The rose that blooms red does not by the thorn           But to seek the bee for which it is born.”

     He looked up at her, and she turned away shyly.

     “Like I said, it needs work.”

     “No,” he said, embracing her. “It’s perfect.”

     “You’re sweet,” she said, wiping her eyes.

     “I…” He looked over at the knives on the top of his pack. The brocade spread out underneath, a blanket of stars. “All sons have to learn how to fight.”

     She smiled sadly, and caressed his cheek with her hand. “You’re not all sons. You’re my son.”

     He only smiled at her. “Anyway—you know they wouldn’t leave me alone if I didn’t agree to go there. If they thought I’d actually have ambitions to become High Lord.”

     “But you already have the markers. Why wouldn’t you become High Lord one day?”

     “Because…” They were both silent. If he became High Lord, her mate would be dead. If he never intended to become one—

     “I don’t want you throwing your life away at those camps. You’re meant for so much more than that.”

     “Being High Lord?”

     “No. I don’t mean that.”

     They sat in silence again.

     “Here,” He suddenly thought, taking out his pencil and paper from his pack. “I’ll write you a poem. A limerick. Not—“ He clarified. “Not the ones I was writing earlier.”

     She laughed softly.

     For a moment, looking at her, he thought of the one he had come up with long before, reciting it in his mind.

     There once was a mother whose silence      Betrayed a mate who was filled with great violence      Though her kindness was strength      The pain broke her at length      And led to a life of compliance.

     No. She didn’t deserve that. Instead, he quickly wrote something down, and handed it to her.

     “As the Spring fields are planted with seed      And the blossoms unfurl with great speed      A son carries with him      Thoughts of love that won’t dim      Of the mother whom he’ll always need.”

     “It’s nothing, but—“

     Her lower lip trembled, and she kissed his forehead. “My sweet boy.”

     “I’m still here, mom,” he said as she parted from him. “I’m still me. Maybe more than…I’ve felt in a long while. You know I can’t just stay here and play music, and write poetry.”

     “I know,” she breathed.

     “But with Rhys…he’s shown me…he displayed it before I was even born. That you can use your strength to help others. That you can protect them. I…wish things had been different. That another life were possible. But this…I feel like…there’s another world opening up to me. That one day…even the life I have now is…a stepping stone to something better. For you, too.”

     “For me?”

     “You should come with me, mother. His Court…what I’ve seen of it…it’s beautiful. I’m sure you’d love it there.”

     “Tamlin…I could never. I have my duties here…”

     “You had as much choice being Lady of Spring as I had being heir. You were meant for more too.”

     She looked at him, eyes shining. “Perhaps. One day.”

     “He talked of seeing Starfall. Next year, maybe.”

     “Yes, I’ve heard it’s beautiful. But…” She took his hands in hers. “Whatever happens. If he has done this for you. Made you feel like yourself again. I am happy for you. But…using your strength to help others…you didn’t need him to figure that out. That’s always who you’ve been. I’ve never been worried you’d lose sight of that.”

     That he’d turn out like his father and brothers, she meant.

     “And it is worth it. Being Lady of Spring. If it means I get to be your mother.”

     He looked down, a pang in his heart. “Mom…”

     She lifted his chin with her hand to look him in the eyes. “Well. We have a little while until they get back. We’ve written poetry. Will you play music with me?”

     “I’d love to.”

     “Good.” She let go, and he wrapped the knives in the brocade and put them back in his pack, carrying it to his room, and getting out his fiddle from its hiding spot, joining his mother who already had her harp out. He saw anew, though she smiled, the great sadness, and loneliness in her. There was no one she could be herself with. Feel safe with. Who would take care of her when he was away. A gnawing guilt ate at him, and a worry that lingered as they began to play. Their secret song.

     But the longer they played, his worries began to subside, as they always did. His heart lifted as she sang. And he thought to himself, that she would be lifted with him. Her steps lighter and lighter, as his. She would sever her roots, as he was. That bound them to this place. That hid her light. When he left this place for good, she would leave with him.

     They would escape.

@tamlinweek 2024 Day 2: Poet/Warrior

#tamlin week 2024 #tamlin week #tamlin #acotar

[silliestgoosever]

hey sam worshippers!

(shakes this like a treat bag)

yeah, yeah, you want it? okay, GO GET IT!!!!!!!!!

words: 518 TICKETS!! DING DING DING!!

summary: sam’s therapist isn’t an actual asshole for once. also this is kind of half assed since it was a quick shortie i made when i was bored

“Richie Kirsch, that was his name?”

Sam’s therapist, Dr. Miller, calmly questioned. Dr. Miller was the definition of a gentle giant in Sam’s book, having to be a good six and a half feet tall with a burly white beard—yet in a gentle grey blazer and a voice that rivals Bob Ross himself.

“Yup, that’s him.”

Sam responded, her elbows resting on her knee, which bounced up and down. She didn’t exactly know why she was so nervous, this was most likely the most open therapist she’s ever had—down to the office.

Normally, Sam felt strangely closed in in a therapist’s office, feeling like if she took too deep of a breath, she’d suck all of the air out of the room. However, this one, she felt comfortable as could be. Dr. Miller really just let Sam talk about her past for once without giving her a horrified look or something of the sort, and it definitely made her feel safe.

“Okay. Just wanted to check with you. Is there anything, well, specific you’d like to talk about with your situation with him? It is okay if not. I don’t want to rush you.”

Miller sincerely suggested, and Sam felt her heart rate spike at the realization she hadn’t communicated her common instant ‘call the cops’ indication, the fear that it just felt right. Well, now or she’d probably pussy out.

“I… I’m sure you know what I did to him. I definitely took desperate measures to make sure that fucker really was dead.” Sam couldn’t help but feel a sense of humor in the pure insanity of the whole situation and how it was honestly truly communicated in that sentence.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody, or you, Dr. Miller. Which is why..I’m..scared. Because it just felt..right. I’ve told this to so many other therapists and they’ve almost called the cops, which is honestly understandable, but I don’t want to actually kill. I don’t want it to feel right. I just keep having this..recurring nightmare that my sister, Tara, thinks I’m a monster, and I’m starting to think it’s justified.. You can call the cops or something, it’s honestly predictable at this point.”

She sighed. Here it comes, the surprised exclamation under his breath and the legal threats. Sam looked up from her avoided eye contact to see, surprisedly, Dr. Miller understandably looking slightly concerned, but not horrified. He nodded, writing down a note or two.

“No, I’m not going to do that. This is a safe space for you, and I want you to feel you can tell me what you need to tell me.” The man smiled, a genuine yet professional smile. “From what you’ve told me, you’ve been in many traumatizing situations and disconcerting feelings like that will appear. Although some may not be normal, I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it.”

Sam was genuinely taken aback by the relief she felt. She was so used to seeing a terrified look with her therapists it was almost unnatural to have Dr. Miller not flip out.

“Thank you, Dr. Miller.”

#sam carpenter #scream #writing #fanfic #scream 6 #sam brainrot please help #we stan dr miller in this house #i love him personally

[cozfics]

Impatience (Aqua x Reader)

Request:would u write an aquaxreader based right after kh 3 please ? (not platonic tho)

Word count: 1.2k

Tw:blood for like 5 seconds?

notes:Sorry for the wait, I had a long week at work this week, and I'll be honest. I haven’t written at all in like 6 years now. I’m really excited to get back to writing though!

You took in a shaky breath as you lowered my keyblade. Was it truly over? Was Xehanort really beaten? Does that mean that you finally get to rest? Finally, after 10 years? Your body ached in ways you hadn't even realized was possible. The battle had been the toughest thing you had ever done. You took a quick glance towards your friends. They all looked as beaten down and tired as you felt. Each and every one of them had fought their hardest. And they all had your respect for that. Especially Roxas, Riku, and Sora. Kairi too. They all had either little or no training, and they fought with ferocity. Like they were desperate to prove themselves. I turned to my other side, glancing at my old friends. Aqua, Terra, and Ven. They had all fought hard too. Aqua and Ven had been on a warpath to reunite our little friend group. You don’t think you had seen your friends that mad since… well ever. Definitely not any time before you had decided to stay in the room with Ven for the last 10 years. It felt absolutely wild to you that 10 years had passed since then.

Wow, maybe the adrenaline was talking but your thoughts were definitely going a mile a minute. And that became painfully obvious when the group broke off, milling about to check over themselves and their friends for any lasting injuries that hadn’t been healed or noticed before. Ventus and Terra were deep in conversation while Aqua started her way over to you. Now this brings on a silly little problem, which honestly after everything you went through kinda feels stupid. You had a big crush on the keyblade master. You had been hopelessly crushing on her since you were teens under Eraqus’s tutelage. You’d been meaning to confess and just get it over with, but it just never felt like the right time. She had either been busy with keyblade training, or she had just… not been alone. And by the light, if you were going to get rejected you definitely did NOT want an audience to your humiliation. 

The thing about a near-death experience is that it really puts things into perspective, and makes you realize you may not have time to wait until that elusive perfect moment. Maybe you should just suck it up and confess to her now? You made eye contact with Aqua and immediately felt any blood that had stubbornly stayed in your body during the war immediately rush towards your face. The other thing about a near-death experience is it makes you think crazy and stupid things that you should absolutely NOT do because it could destroy your friendships you quickly decided. 

Aqua made it to you within seconds. “(Y/n)..” she muttered, gently putting her hands on your face. Oh god. You could die right here and you’d be happy. “When’d you get this?” Aqua asked. You were suddenly aware of a painful sting on your forehead. Oh. You must have taken a hit in battle and not even realized it. You didn’t even get a chance to answer her before she was casting curaga. 

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” You told her. Okay come on (Y/N), you can do this. “Actually Aqua. I uh... Wanted to ask you something.” There, if you throw yourself in the deep end you have no choice but to confess. No chickening out. At least that’s what you want to believe.

“Oh, what would you like to ask?” Aqua asked, pulling her hands back. Her head cocked slightly to the side, making her hair cover her matching eyes slightly. Her gaze held such a softness in it, a stark contrast to the way her eyes had been just an hour ago, narrowed in the desperate analyzing way that battle called for. I was almost tempted to brush the hair out of her face, she’d probably let me. We had been friends for so long.

Friends. Focus. That’s what you were doing! “Aqua, I uh. I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while now.” You started. You could feel butterflies in your stomach, twisting and turning. Why was this the most nerve-wracking thing you had done today? “Aqua I-”

Another thing about near-death experiences. They tend to bring into perspective how short life is. In other words, they tend to make you impatient. Maybe that’s why you didn’t get to finish that sentence before you were cut off.   “(Y/n), would you like to go out sometime?” Aqua suddenly blurted out. Even she seemed surprised by it. You must have looked incredibly disappointed at losing your chance to ask because she quickly backpedaled. “I’m sorry I just wanted to ask since I came back from the Realm of Darkness and it’s okay if you don’t want to.” she began to ramble “No, no it’s not that it’s just, I got so caught up in preparing to confess, and I was just about to, but then you beat me there!” you threw back your head in a laugh. Aqua’s shoulders quaked as she joined you, laughing yourself to tears. Seems like you weren’t the only one who had been waiting for the perfect moment.

“So I take that as a yes?” Aqua asked as her laughs stilled. She looked at you with such a softness, you immediately felt warm. You put your hands on her cheeks and paused, hesitating. 

“I uh… was about to answer with a kiss but, also I realize that might be moving too fast” you admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle.

You didn’t get a verbal answer to your question, as Aqua instead decided to move her head closer. She closed the gap and locked your lips, pulling you as close as she could. Time felt like it had stopped. The two of you were only aware of each other in the moment. 

You stood next to Aqua on the beach, laying your head on her shoulder. You grinned as you watched Terra, Roxas, and Riku charge past you. “I put 10 munny on Terra winning.” You said, grinning widely as you glanced at Aqua. Your girlfriend, (God that word sounded amazing. Like it was the perfect word to describe her. It just felt right) shook her head and grinned a little, though she was quick to correct her features.

“You know I don’t gamble,” Aqua said, lightly pushing your head off her shoulder. You stumbled for a minute at the loss of support. 

“It’s not like it's a casino,” you mumbled, following her as she walked towards the boys, now at the finish line of their race. Sure enough, Terra had won. From the corner of your eyes, you could also see Ven pull away from playing frisbee with Lea and Isa. Yeah, near-death experiences can make you have stupid and reckless ideas, but maybe, sometimes you get so caught up in your head, so caught up in what might go wrong. That you forget to stop and think about how an idea might go right. Honestly, you wish you had confessed sooner. You stood next to Aqua, slipping your hand into hers. You looked to the side and watched the sunset, feeling completely at peace.

#x reader #Aqua x reader #kh aqua x reader #kh aqua #kingdom hearts aqua x reader #kingdom hearts x reader #kh x reader

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Pretty Girls and Ice Cream

Eddie Munson x OC, Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader, Fluff, Light Jealousy, Flirting

Lucy Henderson Masterlist

Summary: Eddie decides to bother Lucy at work. Is it flirting if the person in question doesn't know you're flirting?

Based on anon request: "Shut up, you know you're pretty."

Warnings: None besides Lucy's own insecurities

A/N: Thank you for your patience on this one. Life has just gotten in the way. But now that it's posted, PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! VALIDATION GIVES ME THE WILL TO KEEP WRITING!!!

Word Count: 2.6K

June, 1985

    If Eddie had to watch Brian Anderson ask for another sample, he was going to lose it. 

    Anderson was the last in a long line of guys who had been loitering around Scoop’s Ahoy for the past hour and Eddie swore he was the worst of the lot. Every time he licked the tiny plastic spoon it was like he tripled checked to make sure Lucy was watching.

    Lucy, for her part, seemed to be coming to the end of her patience. To anyone else her expression would appear the epitome of corporate America sweetness, but he knew better. Her eyes were screaming for the guy to just finish his order. 

    Assholes. He swore it had been like this since she started the job. Idiot after idiot lining up like they had never seen a girl before. 

    He blamed Harrington. If he hadn’t taken her to prom, even if it was just as a friend, this wouldn’t be happening. 

    It was like a switch had been turned on in these jock’s brains. Lucy had always been cute, and sweet, and creative, and honestly too many things for him to name. If these guys had actually taken the time to get to know her, they would have realized that years ago. Instead, they waited until she had the proper social caliber to be recognized as a person instead of a blank space at a desk. 

    Admittedly, he was being a bit of a hypocrite. It had taken him far too long to realize Lucy was a girl worth knowing. He just didn’t like how transparently cynical this kind of attention was.

     A ring pulled him out of his green tinted musings just in time to see Lucy handing Anderson his ice cream and change. 

    Eddie took the opportunity to step closer, finally catching a few words of their conversation. 

    “Seems weird we haven’t hung out,” Anderson said.  

    The innocent expression on his face made Eddie’s skin crawl. 

    Lucy shrugged. “I guess we were both just busy.”   

    The boy nodded along, his eyes giving her a very unsubtle once over. 

    “Hey, listen, me and some of the guys were going to have a get together later tonight. Nothing big, just the basketball team and a few others. I was going to tell Harrington, but you should come too. We can hang out, get to know each other better.” 

    Eddie scoffed. This guy was a real piece of work. 

    “Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got plans,” Lucy said, sounding just sorry enough as to not be disputed. “I’ll tell Steve, though. I’m sure he’d love a chance to catch up with you guys.”

    The look of pure devastation on that dumb jock’s face was enough to make Eddie want to jump up at cheer. It was probably the first time a girl had said no to him. 

    “Yeah, thanks,” he mumbled. He then took his ice cream and shuffled away without so much as a parting wink. 

    With a new found spring in his step, Eddie strode up to the counter, trying desperately not to look as happy as he felt. 

    “What’s up, Buttercup?”

    The effect was immediate. Lucy’s customer service expression slipped away. Relief flooded her features, quickly followed by the first genuine smile he’d seen all day. It was enough to boost any man’s ego.

    “Hey Eddie.” 

    “Working hard?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the counter. 

    “Oh, you have no idea,” she groaned. “This is the first chance I’ve had to breathe since I clocked in.”

    He nodded in sympathy. “Where’s Harrington?”

    “He’ll be here soon enough,” she said, with a sigh.  “I mean, it’s not that bad. I just hate opening by myself.  I know it’s been hot, but who needs ice cream at eleven o’clock in the morning?” 

    “Well, when there’s a pretty girl serving it, any time is a good time,” he teased. 

    She laughed. “Well, jokes on them, Robin is out of town for the next two days.”

    “Not the girl I was talking about.” He grinned.

    A frown came to her lips. 

    “Okay, even I will admit Steve is too pretty for his own good, but there’s no need to be mean about it.”

    “Oh shut up Henderson, you know who I’m talking about,” he said, waving her off. 

    “Yeah, sure.”

    Now that made him pause.  He watched her carefully as she made herself busy behind the counter. There was no winking smile. Not even a playful eye roll. She just looked…embarrassed. 

    “You do, don’t you?” 

    She didn’t look up. Her eyes remained fixed on the daily log while she fiddled with the pencil between her fingers.

    “Look, I know you’re just messing around, but, a little, yeah,” she admitted. “Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m not bad to look at. I’m even cute most days, but it’s nothing to write home about. Pretty is just…a whole other ballpark.”

    “What are you talking about? There’s plenty of crossover between pretty and cute,” he protested. “Heather Langenkamp.”

    She laughed, but it held that self deprecating tone he had come to hate. 

    “Fine, Heather Langenkamp,” she allowed. “But c’mon. Like I said, I’m cute, but in the same way a tiny frog is cute. You don’t see a line of guys waiting to make out with a frog.”

    “Anderson seemed eager enough.”

    Her brows scrunched in what could only be genuine confusion. “What? No, he was just waiting to talk to Steve.”

    “He invited you over to, and I quote, ‘get to know each other better’,” he said, adding the air quotes for emphasis. 

    “Only to be nice.” 

    Eddie stared at her, dumb founded. Suddenly her rejection didn’t feel nearly as vindicating. All she had really done was happen to be busy that night. 

    “Your faith in the human condition never ceases to amaze me,” he said, dryly. 

    She let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “Luce, a guy like Anderson doesn’t ask a girl to a party just to be polite.”

    “How do you know?” she asked. “You don’t know him.”

    He rolled his eyes. “I know him well enough.”

    “Well, I’m sure he’d think a guy like you wouldn’t talk to me unless you wanted… whatever it is you assume he wants.”

    A little pang of guilt twisted in his stomach. She wasn’t entirely off the mark. It didn’t start out that way. He was grateful for all the friendship and kindness she so generously gave him. He just knew, deep down, it wasn’t enough. He wanted…Jesus Christ, what did he want? Too many things, if he was being honest, and he didn’t make a habit of doing that. 

    “It’s different,” he countered. 

    She held her hands up in surrender. “Whatever. I will never understand the male mind.”

    “It’s not that hard, trust me.”

    She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. 

    He knew that was his cue to drop it, but the whole conversation had clawed its way under his skin. 

    She had told him bits and pieces of her time before she joined Hellfire. There were too many stories of guys acting friendly only to ask her about Wheeler or the girl who sat behind her in class. She mentioned dates that ended in hand shakes and flirtations that went nowhere. She had even confessed her rather sad attempt to ask out Jonathan Byers. 

    Things were changing, but that kind of conditioning didn’t just disappear with a wink and flirty smile. 

    He tapped his fingers, a nervous energy filling him as a dangerous thought turned into focus.  

    “What would it take for you to accept a guy is flirting with you?”

    She blinked, tilting her head oddly to the side. “I…can’t say I know. I mean, Steve’s been trying to help me with that stuff, but I’m not sure what works.”

    “Well, we already know you can’t take a compliment.”

    “I can, if somebody is being serious.”

    He pressed his lips together. His heart was pounding as he felt himself inching towards the edge. “Serious, huh?”

    She shot him a quizzical look. 

    He answered by leaning forward, leaving barely a few inches between them. 

    Her eyes widened allowing a view of their full depth of color; hazel circled in green and gold only noticeable at so intimate a distance. It was easy to get lost, made worse by the gentle smell of apple shampoo and mint toothpaste tickling his nose. 

    Shit, he was really doing this. 

    “Lucy Henderson, you’re just about the prettiest girl I know,” he said, softly. “Best get used to hearing it.”

    A bright color came to her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly as if to say something, but no sound came out. She could only stare. 

    He had to smile. He doubted any of those idiots got her so flustered. 

    “Like that?” he prompted.  

    Her blush deepened as she glanced down at the log sheet resting between them. 

    “Something like that, yeah.”

    His brows furrowed slightly. There was a lingering uncertainty in her tone that was all wrong. 

She still didn’t believe him. 

    He racked his brain for something to say to convince her it was true, but the only thing he could think of didn’t require much talking. He could just lean forward and kiss her like he’d been wanting to since seeing her in that ridiculous prom dress and a hundred times before that.  Her lips were right there. Jesus Christ, it was tempting. He could almost feel how soft they were. He bet they tasted like that strawberry lip balm she liked so much. Of course, he would then be faced with that same blaring question.

    If he kissed her, then what? 

    He could see it easily enough. Her face would turn hot. She’d fiddle with her hands and her eyes would soften as she told him she didn’t like him that way. She’d say she wanted them to still be friends and mean every word of it. It would be a gentle rejection, meant to come as a hand on a shoulder while a kind face told you it was just like falling asleep. He’d prefer to just be taken out back and shot, but Lucy didn’t have it in her. 

    Or worse, she wouldn’t believe him. She’d pull away with nothing but humiliation and hurt on her face. She’d ask him why he did that, wondering at what kind of joke he was playing. She’d then turn away crying and tell him to leave. The bridge between them would burn and there would be nothing he could do about it. 

    So he tore his eyes away, forcing them back up to safer territory. At least, that was his intention. He seemed to have caught her mid musing as her own eyes fluttered upward, her cheeks pink and breath hitched. 

    Did she just…

    “Lucy! Sorry I’m late. Thanks for covering. What are you doing here Munson?” 

    He bit his tongue, wanting nothing more than to curse Harrington into another dimension; preferably one with spikes and a lot of fire. 

    “Nothing you can have me arrested for,” he shot back, not bothering to turn around. 

    “Well we do have the right to kick people out who aren’t paying.”

    “I’m taking care of it Steve,” Lucy cut in. “Now can you clock in, please? I just got finished with a rush and need all the help I can get.”

    Harrington’s lips pressed into a line as he looked between the two. “Fine, but if it’s been as busy as you say, I’ll need an extra hand stocking”

    “Will do,” she promised. 

    That satisfied him enough to slip into the back, while also keeping the panel open. 

    “Sorry about that,” Lucy said, her expression trying to speak for both her and Harrington. “Is there something I can get you? On the house.”

    Five more minutes was his first though. If Harrington had been just five more minutes late, he might have had something. Now it was only a moment, one he couldn’t even trust was real.

    “Rain check,” he said, careful to keep the resentment out of his tone. “It’s too early for ice cream. Besides, I’ve got places to be.”

    She nodded in understanding. “What are you doing tonight?”

    “No much, why?” 

    “Well…” She shifted awkwardly. “I know we haven’t had a chance to hang out the way we should have, which is probably my fault. I just thought we could catch a movie. Day of the Dead is still playing, if you haven’t seen it. I’ll bring ice cream.”

    Something dangerously resembling hope flickered in his chest. “I thought you already had plans.”

    “Kind of,” she confessed. “I saw you pass by a few times and thought it’d be best to keep my schedule open until I could ask you.” 

    A wide smile spread across his face. Brian Anderson could suck it! Lucy hadn’t even given that sorry ass a second thought. She deliberately lied just to hang out with him. Shit, he could ride this high for the rest of the day. 

    “I’m sure I can convince the guys to cut practice short,” he said. 

    Her whole face lit up, shooting another dizzying rush straight into his bloodstream. 

    “Cool! I get off at about six. So, in front of the theater, six thirty?” 

    “Sounds perfect.”

    “Lucy?!”

    Eddie looked up, just in time to see Harrington trying, and failing, to balance an armful of boxes on the other side. Good. He hoped he dropped them. 

    “Oh jeez– Hold on!” Lucy said before turning back around and shooting him an apologetic smile. “I should probably help with that. I’ll see you tonight?” 

    “I’ll be there,” he promised. 

    She nodded, walking backwards as she spoke. “Six thirty. Don’t forget.”

    “Never, pretty girl.” 

    He just got the chance to see her cheek turn that addicting shade of red before she raised two fingers in a half salute and dipped behind the door. 

    It wasn’t a date. He had to remind himself of that even as he felt himself floating out of Scoop’s Ahoy and into the rest of the crowd. Lucy would have said point blank if it was a date. She wasn’t one to play that “let’s hang out” game. This was just a meeting between friends. 

    Of course, friends didn’t blush like that when another friend complimented them. Friends didn’t let other friends get that close and friends definitely did not stare at each other’s lips. 

    He could feel himself grasping at straws, but it couldn’t have been his imagination. 

    Before he knew it, he was halfway across the mall parking lot and in sight of his van. He took the moment to finally breath, clearing his head of the euphoric haze. 

    Whatever hope he felt was based solely on glances and guesses. They were friends. He had gotten too close to the edge. If he had any sense, he would slowly back away and never look back.

    Of course, it was easier said than done. That stupid, confusing want kept him right where he was. He thought accepting his feelings would somehow make them more manageable, but all it did was make him even more desperate to prove he wasn’t alone. 

    He couldn’t just jump. This wasn’t some random girl at the Hideout he’d likely never see again. All he’d get from a fall like that was a bruised ego. With Lucy…shit it might just kill him. 

    He ran a hand over his face. She’d just rather spend more time with him than Brian Anderson. It wasn’t rocket science. The guy was a dick anyway. 

    Still, she’d rather spend more time with him, the soon to be third year senior freak than Brian Anderson, rich jock on his way to a full ride athletic scholarship. 

    The self imposed pressure on his chest lightened as he finally slipped into the driver’s seat. 

    He’d be back at six thirty. Lucy would be waiting for him just outside the theater with a smile, two spoons and a pint of ice cream. Date or no date, how lucky could a guy get? And if he could get her to blush again, well, what’s life without a little danger.

#eddie munson #lucy henderson #stranger things #stranger things oc #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x henderson!reader #leddie #eddie munson x reader #2022 fic

[katana-no-neko]

I read two volumes of Spy x Family and suddenly I’m out of fanfic writing retirement

Rated M

~~~

Loid was distracted.

He tried to focus on the warehouse door he was meant to watch, or at least listen to the radio station his car was tuned into to catch any clandestine messages from the agency, but his mind just kept running elsewhere.

This is not good. He thought. He was Twilight, for God's sake - master spy, the best in his line of work.

And here he was on an important stakeout unable to stop imagining making out - and maybe a little more - with his wife at home.

He may hold the fate of Westalis’ and Ostania's peace in his hands but good God, Yor held his entire being in hers.

When had it become like this? Their 'relationship' had started as a sham - for them each to keep up appearances. Him for the sake of Operation Strix and her for her brother's and coworker's meddling.

She was incredibly attractive, of course he'd noticed that immediately, but he was Twilight! He was a professional, he had a control on his emotions, they'd been under wrap for years.

Sure, they were married and parented a kid together, but there wasn't anything more to it than that. He had to keep her happy and healthy to keep up his ruse of a doting family man! Their dates and his care for her were all for the mission.

Until it wasn't.

Loid groaned as he recalled that fateful kiss. They'd just put Anya to bed together, each giving her a tight hug and a loving kiss on the cheek. They'd sat down in the living room, next to each other on the couch, him reading a book and listening to the clicking of Yor's knitting needles as she worked on a scarf for Anya - the cold weather was fast approaching. It took a while before he realized that he wasn't absorbing a single word from his book; he was just focusing on the comfortable environment around him. He looked up to the person responsible for stealing his focus - Yor Briar Forger - a soft smile on his face.

She sensed his stare immediately and gave him a content smile in return, and before the Twilight the Spy part of his brain could do anything, Loid Forger was leaning in to kiss her.

It was chaste, their lips parting with a soft sound, and then they were kissing again, his hands dropping his book and coming up to cup her cheeks.

Each time they parted, they came back together with even more passion. It was when Yor's hand came up to his chest that his brain suddenly kicked in and he pulled himself back, eyes wide and mouth ajar.

Yor seemed taken aback for a second or two before suddenly flushing bright red and moving to dart to her bedroom. Loid reached out and grabbed her arm. "Wait-" he breathed out, and she did.

Twilight tried to insist again that he was only making sure she was okay for the mission but Loid knew he could no longer deny it.

He had completely fallen for his fake wife without even noticing it was happening.

He knew, he knew from the very beginning that his relationship with his 'family members' was strictly professional - he'd even prepared a script to kindly let Yor down just in case she started to catch feelings. And then, if he was honest with himself, he'd gone ahead and fallen first.

How long had he been craving the affection that this family had given him? He hadn't been part of a 'family' since he was a child, so it should only make sense he was desperate for it. But spies weren't granted that sort of thing. Letting feelings and attachments get in the way of their work was harmful. Disastrous, even.

Of course it didn't feel disastrous when she was writhing under him in his bed, his name a song on her lips.

Loid sighed as the memory sent a hot pulse through him. A hard-on really wasn't what he needed on a stakeout, but his brain kept feeding him memories from that night.

After grabbing her hand and asking her to wait, there'd been a long pause before they managed to shamble words together in their heads.

"Are you okay?" Loid asked first.

"I'm sorry, I just- haven't ever done anything like this before but I know obviously you have I mean you've been married before and have a child and I also don't want to overstep anything like your memory of her-" Yor blurted out in one long breath.

"I love you," the man admitted, the spy in him swearing profusely.

Yor's eyes widened and her blush increased, if possible. She struggled to speak for a few seconds before spilling out, "I love you too."

And that was all Loid needed to hear before he was pulling her back towards him, kissing her passionately again, Yor enthusiastically responding. It hadn't taken much longer for them to end up in his bedroom, locked in an intimate embrace. The night was filled (quietly, because Anya was still sleeping in the other room) with their continued confessions, kisses, and the intimacy of a couple in love.

That had been two weeks ago and he hadn't stopped thinking about it sense.

Well, that wasn't quite true, he managed to keep his mind out of the gutter when his sweet, adorable little girl Anya was around, but the moment he was alone? It was over for him.

His reaction was insane, he thought. Completely unpredictable. Sex had never been like this for Loid. He was often used as a honey pot by the agency. It was always just part of the job. But with Yor... It felt different. It had been emotional, raw, passionate. He could only describe it as making love versus the lifeless sex he'd experienced previously.

It had been astounding though. And he made certain it was amazing for both of them. The memory of her thighs tightening around his face as his pseudonym passed her lips in a breathless whisper, would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Fuck, he needed to calm down before the target showed up - he didn't think running would be too comfortable in his current state. More and more though, he just wanted to say "screw it!" and go home to see Yor. He groaned and slouched in his seat, gripping the steering wheel as he tried to force out some of his pent up energy. He glanced at his watch. Nearly midnight, god dammit. He'd been watching this warehouse for nearly three hours and nothing. Loid was so tempted to leave, but he knew he couldn't. Not until he either finished the job or received signal from the agency that he was cleared.

And so the spy was forced to wait another twenty minutes trying desperately not to recall how Yor had returned the favor just the other night, before finally hearing something important through the radio.

Previously playing some classical piece Loid hadn't ever heard, the station sounded a voice to say, "and that'll be all from us tonight, we hope you enjoy the rest of your night." Completely innocent to most, that was Twilight's signal to go home. He sighed at the uselessness of this stakeout as he started his car. He could've done anything else tonight, like watch Anya's spy cartoon with her, help Yor with the cleaning up, or- well, anything he'd already been thinking about doing with Yor.

A light pink dusting graced his cheeks. This craving couldn't be natural, he thought, itching to get home and spend the night tangled with Yor now that he was off the hook. He had to get himself under control.

Although, he realized with a smirk. It's not as if Yor was complaining.

#loidyor #spy x family #fanfiction #spy x family fanfiction #loidyor fanfiction #please I love them #haleigh writes fanfiction