#Then someone else came through with Bonnie and ''I was the last. I have seen nothing.'' STOP! 😭

[lexyscross]

I wonder if this is their age order, from oldest to youngest?

It looks to be that way. (We know it's not the order in which they were taken.)

#Man someone on Twitter posted a pic of Chica captioned ''She was the 3rd she had seen some of the things'' 😭😭 #Then someone else came through with Bonnie and ''I was the last. I have seen nothing.'' STOP! 😭 #Anyways *stabs William* KIDS GET IN THE CAR; WE'RE GOING TO TEXAS ROAD HOUSE! #Cas- *gunshots* Golden Freddy Kid would call me ugly and kick the back of my seat; I just know he would. 🙄 #fnaf kids #fnaf ghosts #fnaf missing children #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf series #image: fnaf series #commentary: fnaf series #txt #fnaf spoilers #fnaf movie spoilers

[divinehedons]

godless promethean, elektran rage.

navigation: masterlist

pairing: pirate!joel miller x siren!reader

word count: ~8.4k words (I KNOW I'M SO SORRY)

summary: when the wrath of poseidon brings in something not quite human, a hardened pirate with the harshness of a soldier at war faces a bright-eyed siren with the delusion of a dreamer.

warnings: this is a DARK, EXPLICIT fic. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT or i will BLOCK you. so much plot, pirate!au, siren!au, joel is a violent motherfucker, reader is a metamorphic creature that turns human-like when not submerged in water, graphic depiction of violence and injury, mentions of abduction and implications of abuse, explicit p-in-v sex, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, soooo much murder. it's like a greek tragedy without the incest.

note: THANK YOU FOR 600 FOLLOWERS!!! much of this work was inspired by me rereading the odyssey by homer, but the trope of joel x siren!reader is not of my own making! thank you so much for reading, and as always, comments and reblogs are much apprciated!

Be strong, saith my heart. A wave crests over the hull of the ship. Then another. And another. I have seen worse things than this. Synchronized hands haul the rope for the sails, a last attempt to regain control of their vessel. The Balkan sea stretches before weary sailors, endless and unforgiving, with one foot in their watery grave and the other clawing to live.

In the midst of this carnage is The Flounder, harbinger of chaos, populated by a crew of men who pillage, murder, and destroy anything that gets in their way. Joel once thought of him and his men as indestructible. The Wrath of Poseidon makes him reconsider otherwise.

“Goddamnit, Bonnie, we’re never gettin’ out of this mess!” Joel yells over the deluge of rain, tightening his grip and growling as the rope digs in to the skin of his palms. He sees another wave crest over them, sturdy as a wall, coming down upon their shivering backs, leaving them spluttering out seawater. He coughs momentarily, heaving in air as he digs his feet into the deck.

When he regains his breath, he hears his name being called. He looks, their Captain bellowing from where he steered. His new orders came through in the middle of the crack of thunder and the whistle of an unending storm. Check beneath the deck for damages. Fix anything that could sink them. He calls for someone to replace his hold and he runs for it. 

In his head, he had begun to pen a letter back to his waiting daughter under the care of his brother. Dear Sarah, he thinks, climbing down the ladder and finding himself in knee-deep, ice-cold water. I promised you that this will be my last expedition. That after this, we shall live out however you want us to. I only hope that I can live up to that promise. He cusses under his breath when he finds a growing leak in the hull, crossing himself as he immediately went about to fix it temporarily with what materials he could find. You’re safer with your uncle Tommy than here in this misery. And should anything happen to me, know that I love you and I trust you to be good to him, too. He crosses the threshold to see if there was anything else, moving across floating bottles, bobbing up and down with remnants of booze. With a sigh, isolated from the chaos above deck, he leans against a column, grabbing a drifting bottle and swallowing down the booze to settle his nerves.

I grow old, I grow old. He mouths the words under his breath. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

The muffled sounds of the world melts away as he tries to catch his breath, gritting his teeth from the ache in his hips. Getting too old for this. He tries to think of a way that rest can be comfortable in this mess. Sleep, he thinks, delicious and profound. The very counterfeit of death.  It is only when his nerves settle that he hears it.

A splash in the common room. Too loud to be some drifting object. Something that continues to move against the motion of the ship between the waves. He stills himself, the empty bottle slipping between his fingers. Slowly, he moves closer to the source of the sound, like a predator stalking his prey in the darkness. He retrieves a drifting harpoon, peeking through the threshold of the room to inspect. In the semi-darkness, interrupted by the flickering of lanterns and dying candelight, he catches the shimmer of something alive. He raises his weapon, looks through his good eye, his brows crinkling at the effort to focus.

Too old and too goddamn blind for this shit.

He blinks a few times more before he finally sees. And what he sees is you.

Your lithe arms reaching against the walls of the ship, trying to find a weak link that could let you escape. Were you brought in by the waves? Were you the very thing responsible for the leak he just had to fix? Initially, Joel made the movement to speak, to ask how you had ended up here—the sea is no place for a maiden like you. But his breath hitches when he looks closer to see… well, you. The incandescent flickering of a scaled tail, blending with inhuman yet somewhat human skin around your hips, and your upper body, glorious, unmarked, and completely fucking naked.

Perhaps it was the months at sea, conversing with no one but the same crew of men who, despite their intelligentsia and capabilities, do not exactly have the looks capable of producing in him the flustering exhilaration of some teenager. But he, of all people, know of the stories, too. The whispers shared in the saloons in the darkness. The shared thrill and excitement of such beauty and danger lurking beneath the temptresses’ skins. He has heard of claws coming for his companions’ throats, have heard of the trickery they can cause with the power of the ocean entirely at their disposal. He thinks of Odysseus again— tethered to the mast of his ship, The only one of his men to hear the voice of the sirens and have survived. Odysseus, who would have laid his life down  just to come close to the very presence of something so divine. 

Another thing he knows is that the price of one siren is half the bounty they had planned for. Months of work cut out for himself. Months closer to seeing his daughter again. It’s enough to give him the taste of freedom. His own little piece of heaven that, ironically, is someone else’s hell. The funny thing was, he does not feel guilt about it.

Perhaps he was not Odysseus. He was not as noble. Nor did he ever want to be. A noble character would never provide a good life for his Sarah, waiting for him oceans away.

That was the decision that sealed the creature’s fate before him. Without a second thought, he fires his harpoon, the sharp head piercing through the creature’s shoulder as an angelic wail emanates from her precious throat. With her pinned down, he had begun yelling, calling for the presence of men to see what they’ve caught in their vessel. Their ticket to riches. The honeypot herself.

The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.

He swallows down the guilt as the thunder of heavy steps descend upon their victim, her screams only growing louder and louder amidst the exhilarated, disbelieving laughter of his companions. He does not dare to look. Does not dare to see those doe eyes of yours begging for respite, pulling him into your charms.

An eye of an eye. A good life for Sarah in exchange for hers.

Fair enough.

—-

When The Flounder has escaped the barrages of the storm, the sea is quiet. Some would even say peaceful. Joel wouldn't exactly use that word. Not when he hears your wails breaking the silence. That first night, no one understood what needed to be done. No one even bothered to try and treat your wound. The very wound he had caused. Everyone had something more important to do. Clear the seawater beneath the hull, secure the sails, have a quick meal, get a few winks of sleep. Naturally, the mythical being, as all other inconsequential things, were tucked away, you dealt with the usual brusque nature of men.

So when he had been called to watch you before dawn broke, that's what he set his mind to. Stepping down beneath the deck, with spare scraps of cloth and booze in hand. They've cleared out the flooding. But the wood hadn't dried completely. Mick, who he had passed beforehand, gave him a questioning look. "Aren't ya scared she'd rip your throat out?"

He scoffs, tilting his head to the side as he speaks. "I'm more scared of the stench she'll make if she starts dyin' on us, Micky."

What he did not expect when he opens the closet you've been locked in is the metamorphic cross between a tail and legs you kick out at him. What he hears next is the snarl, your body knocking him over, small, webbed hands slipping around his throat. “You asshole!” That same heavenly voice, filled with so much malice that does not fit with the angelic features towering over him. You speak in a language he does not understand, a torrent of words driven by so much emotion that he sees a glance of what Homer was so distasteful about. You could kill him, devour him bones and all and you wouldn’t even flinch.

However, he sees how your rage blinds you, too. Blinds you to his precise movements, making you think you’ve subdued him, only to suddenly flip your positions, pinning you down by your wrists, trying to look into your eyes.

What you see, staring up at him as your last yells escape you, is the strands of silver in his hair. What follows next is his tired eyes. A sea of stories that you feel as if you can almost hear them if the world is quiet enough. However, you cannot deny the warmth to them. The fire that you failed to see in the other men that shoved you in the closet you have been suffocating in. It’s what makes you stop in your struggle as you finally hear his voice.

“Damnit, let me help you, honey, c’mon…”

It’s then that Joel finally comprehends what he sees. You, a mythical being that shifts from merfolk in one instance, to a walking goddess in the next. Perhaps it was what helped your kind survive; camouflaging yourself and disappearing amidst throes of people. “You turn when ya… when…?”

You swallow, breathless and trembling as you grit your teeth. He sees the panic in your eyes, the idea that he can just betray you if he wanted to. If it would benefit him.

“Let me help you, darlin’.”

“W-when I’m…” You breathe in sharply. “When I’m not in water.”

He nods, slowly, watching the lithe legs and your bare body, spotless and perfect in every way. “I see.” He removes himself from you, moving away from your periphery. You gather your breath, turning over to see him, kneeling over an upturned washtub, somewhat filled with some form of water or another. “Those men up there? They can’t see you like this, otherwise…” he trails off, preferring not to picture what they’d do. What they’ve all once done before at sea. “Ya hear me?” He looks back at you, watching the way your hands gripped your bleeding shoulder wound, evidence of what he had already done to you. “You don’t know what else they can do to a pretty girl like ya.”

So, gently, he kneels beside you with a pained groan from the ache in his knees. You flinch under his touch and he gives you a stern look. “Why did you do this?”

He shakes his head, opening the bottle he brought down with him to pour it over the gaping flesh. Your soft fingers grip on to his arm, the softest whine escaping your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re not the only one fightin’ to survive in this world, honey.” He shushes you gently, moving to wrap what pieces of cloth he could find, using them to bandage your wound as you finally soften in his hold. He helps you into the tub, and he tries not to look into your eyes again.

You spoke again when he turned away, giving you the privacy he assumed you needed. “Just because you need to survive doesn’t mean I need it any less.” He stops in his tracks, looking down for a moment before clearing his throat. “Are men always this wretched? That one must tear down the innocent to survive?” He moves to answer, turning back momentarily, before sighing, turning back to continue cleaning up the mess. “Thank you, though. For… this.”

You know exactly how to describe it. You just don’t want him to hear it. The gentleness that comes, not in the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

Joel hears the noise in his head, clouding his thoughts and drowning them out as he moves from one place to another.as he tries not to think about you, quiet in a tub of water, pretending to ignore him. Men are so quick to blame the gods…

He hands you a plate of scraps. The trimmings from a loaf of bread. A slice of some meat, and the last pieces of cheese he could find. “Eat,” he orders gruffly, moving to sit by the side of your tub, while he seats himself with a slice of bread. “Can’t have ya dyin’ of starvation either.”

You obey, weakened by the struggles of the evening, disheartened by your imprisonment, so close to freedom and at the same time so far away from it. You eat slowly, as if considering each little fragment you were handed, as if the world is unfamiliar in the presence of someone else.

Joel couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was your charm. Whatever it was, he started to tell you things.

He tells you of his life, so far away from the ocean, landlocked. He tells you how they make a living with animals. But he also tells you about Sarah. Sarah who dreamt of the world. Sarah who he was doing all this for. Sarah who asked him as a child to read to her every night. Sarah who was growing more and more with each passing day, the gap between the two of them becoming wider than he could ever comprehend.

“My survival may not mean much,” he says, “but hers is the most vital thing in my life, doll.”

He feels your gaze on him, becoming easier and easier to see as the sun slowly grows higher in the sky. In thirty minutes, his watch will end, and you do not know how the next man will treat you next. Will he be kind? Will he have Joel’s eyes?

He turns to leave, taking the plates with him as he stands up with a pained groan. “Don’t cause too much trouble, girl.” He only stops when you say his name, his gaze catching the blurry image of you, your tail sinking beneath you in the tub. “Yeah?”

“Will you read to me when you return?” you whispered, afraid to show fragility in your own internment.

He nods after a moment of thought, clambering up on deck to report back to the Captain.

Men are so quick to blame the gods.

—

For a while, a week or so, you believed things could be nice with Joel somewhat in your corner. Everyone else seemed to care less or cower in fear of you. Maybe because you do try to scare them away. At least, if you were going to be betrayed, it was Joel doing the betraying.

He returned at the same time just as he did the night before. And slowly, a routine emerges. He cleans your wounds, he feeds you whatever he finds. Then he reads to you. His eyes are too weak to read without you holding the lantern. So you learned that second night to emerge from your tub and to hold the lantern for him. He reads to you with the skilled words of a bard. He reads to you as if he’d read this tale before. Perhaps to Sarah? Perhaps to someone else?

You feel your stomach curdle at the thought of there being someone else in his life. You swallow down the bile and listen more closely.

When he leaves at dawn, you lie in the tub, dreaming of the words he had read to you, turning your back to the man that comes next. They do not bother you. You do not bother them. You become a ghost until he brings you to life.

Sing to me, Muse, of the Man of many wiles.

By the third night, he brings with him a blanket for you to wrap yourself in as you sit closer beside him, trying to follow the words he read, only to surrender because the letters are too rigid, too unnatural. You began shutting your eyes as he reads to you, learning of Odysseus, a once too familiar name you have heard in others of your kind before…

Sing to me, Muse, of these matters. Daughter of Zeus,My starting point is any point you choose.

You begin to talk to him too by the fourth night, observing your transformed toes as he hammered little areas he figured needed repairs. You tell him of the world beneath the waves, the languid distances you’ve traveled, never truly feeling as if you have found a home. You tell him, too, of wonders big and small.

You spoke of all these things, pretending to be unaware of the way he listens with such interest. It’s like you wanted him to be interested. How could you not, when night by night his eyes become warmer and warmer whenever they fell upon you? How could you not when he’s the only one that cared?

You try to read his thoughts, sometimes, when it’s quiet and he prefers to sit by himself, finding a few winks of sleep while you ate your food. He’s rather good at hiding them. You wonder if it makes his life easier. You wonder if any of it is easy for him.

Then he asks you something on his fifth watch.

“Is the whole singin’ thing somethin’ you actually do?”

You turn your head over your shoulder, setting down the snowglobe you’ve taken an interest in the last couple of hours. You saw it on a shelf this afternoon. And you had been impatient for Joel to arrive ever since. You consider the question, Then you smile and nod meekly.

“Do…” you pause, moving to face him instead. “Do you want to hear?”

He smirks, moving the chair closer to your seated frame, seating with the backing pressed to his front, legs straddling the seat, arms atop, covering that sliver of chest you had been sneaking glances from all evening. He had that thin linen shirt on again— the one that swoops down his chest. The one you see in your dreams.

“Only if it won’t kill me, sweet cheeks.”

You like that. Sweet cheeks. You barely understand what it means. You nod slowly, moving to lay on your back as you stare at the ceiling, monotonous and unchanged since you last looked. As you sing, you try not to look him in the eye. As if you cannot bear the sight of him seeing your capabilities and forever changing his perception of you. The hymn is warm, almost homely. A relentless Odyssey that means to take you home. A song that’s said to bring forth memories of home. You know Joel does not understand the language. Nor do you want him to. You won’t admit it, but you’re still terrified of what he could do if you remind him of how much he misses his home.

But what is even more surprising is this: instead of reminiscing about the tropics from which you have loved so deeply, all you can think about is him. All you can picture is his face. All you can see is possibilities of how he’s looking at you now.

When you finish, dawn is already breaking over the horizon. He has to go.

Quietly, you rose and slowly return to the tub with your snowglobe, watching as your body metamorphosizes— your last line of defense for survival. The shine of your scales so familiar, but never this clear under the water. The light is always so diffused— as distant as a foreign planet. Joel, on the other hand, stays there for a few minutes more, looking at the spot where you just were—at the plank of wood bearing the wet shape of your body. You started to think maybe he won’t leave when he swallows, rising from where he sat, and approaching you to hand the cheese he couldn’t eat from his portion of the meal.

“I quite enjoyed that,” he confesses, tucking the food into your palm. Just then, he encloses your hand in both of his, taking a moment to savor the feeling of your cool, changed skin against his. He wonders momentarily if you’ll feel different without your tail. “Thank you.”

He leans down, bringing your hand up to his waiting mouth, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. A shiver runs down your spine as you comprehend the sensation. His lips. How warm he is… the scruff of his beard against smooth skin. You feel him smirk against your hand, pulling away as he makes his way above deck.

And on your hand is the reddened skin that evidenced the smidgen of affection you were giving. And for now, it’s enough.

You turn your back to the world once more and into your own dream world, staring at your hand as you dream of Joel all morning long.

—

You suppose everything that goes around does eventually come around. You wonder why you're so optimistic. But, you supposed, just as things were getting better, the fates had other plans in store for you.

The call came just as you were coming of the stupor of sleep. From what you can tell, it was barely midday, and someone was yelling above where you resided. All hands on deck.

The thunderous noise of heavy feet trundle above head. The man watching you grumbled, muttering something along the lines of, "don't you dare think about running, li'l bitch."

You watch him slam the door, and curiosity gets the better of you. You rise slowly from the tub, slinking along the floor, struggling to lift yourself enough to peer out from one of the windows. But when you do, you've come to realize the gravest sin of your naivety.

There is a ship to be plundered. Slowly, the masks worn by the men where you are melt away. You see familiar men with their swords drawn, laughing maniacally, screaming and terrifying the ship they've found to appease their hunger.

You feel your body changing, and you begin to turn away from the window when you catch sight of silver hair and scruff. A visage that you finally see in broad daylight.

Joel is one of the men who almost seem to dance to the song of violence. Perhaps the stories were true. Perhaps the secrets of the shadows are laid bare in the light. Even Joel's secrets cannot escape the midday sun. When you see him, he is in battle with some toughened fisherman, their duel witnessed by cowering passengers and well-dressed women. For a moment, you think Joel will come to his senses, see how senseless all this violence is.

But then he takes the man by his hair, holding his head and facing him to the sun. His sword arches across the expanse of his victim's neck, rivulets of blood bursting forth in gush, an unstoppable stream. A squeal escapes you, the violent image burnt into the recesses of your brain, forcing you away from the window.

You run on shaky legs, screaming and yelling, reaching the doorway and attempting to push the door open, only to find resistance. Your fists pound the hard wood, your body pushing and shoving, unable to accept the fact that you can't call to him— show him that you saw and you demand an answer why.

For the first time, ever since Joel shot you with a harpoon, you truly understood something you tried so hard to ignore.

You sleep under the shelter of murderers. You think you felt affection from the hands of a man who just as easily took someone's life away. You are only loved because you're something else. Something not human.

You are only loved because you'll ensure their survival.

—

The blade itself incites the deeds of violence.

When the carnage ended, Joel raised his head to see the sky beginning to paint itself in bolder strokes of colors. He stretches his arms, only to feel the sticky plasma of drying blood sticking to his arms, his torso, spotting the expanse of his face. He is the last to leave their conquered ship, and he takes his time. He walks along the scattered piles of bodies, putting whoever hasn't perished out of their misery with the very same blade he wielded in battle. He's alive. He can go home. He watches the revelry on their vessel: men roasting the spoils from the kitchen, barrels upon barrels of ale and mead slowly being chewed through.

The stage is set. All they need is a little shock of entertainment.

But what he worries about is you. You who probably cowered from fear at the sudden influx of noise. You who definitely saw the things they are capable of doing. You with the wound on your shoulder, healing at a snail's pace with your imprisonment. So, he takes the time to find supplies to help you. He finds antiseptic. He finds needle and thread. It will have to do.

When he returns to his ship, He has spread oil across the deck where the bodies lay. With one bloody hand, he strikes a match to burn away the evidence of their carnage. The burning ship drifts further and further into the horizon, drowned out by the sounds of cheering. Joel is handed a mug of better than average mead.

As he watches the lights flicker and consume the rest of the ship, one question remains at the forefront of his thoughts, echoed and repeated by every voice in his head.

Do I dare?

Clarity comes when he's two mugs in, everyone else fucking off to see how much treasure piled up. He looks at the door that leads directly where you are and the question becomes clearer. It is in the iambic beat of his heart. I am, I am, I am.

It's in the excitement at the thought of seeing you tonight and having a good meal to offer. He begins to smirk, taking two plates and finding food he thinks you'll like.

Do I dare disturb the universe?

—

You do not look at him when he enters. You cannot, knowing the things you’ve seen today. Especially when you hear he’s happy, humming as he sinks down the stairs from the deck. The jump on his step was not there before. And instead of finding that itching curiosity to see if he was smiling or if you were responsible for this joy, you feel your stomach sour at one thought.

Perhaps the slaughtering of others brought glee to his bones.

“You must be hungry,” he says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You feel a strange stickiness to his touch. So strange that you finally look, only to be horrified by the sight of his bloodsoaked hand. You yelp helplessly, shrinking away from his touch. You shed tears, luminescent in the semi-darkness, as precious as pearls that only he can see. “Darlin’...” His hand comes to cup your face gently, trying to make you look him in the eye. In this form, your skin is cold, the warmth of his hands turning your skin red.

“Y-you killed them,” you finally manage, the iron smell filling your senses. Seeing you panicked, Joel reaches down into the tub to slowly bring you out of your tub and into his willing arms, slow shushes escaping him. “Are you going to kill me, too?”

So that was what you were so scared of.

You bury your face into his chest, his shirt smelling of him— of sandalwood and musk, tobacco smoke, and underneath it all, a few specks of blood. Meanwhile, he lets you, cradling you in his arms as you continue to shed your tears. He lets you, knowing you wouldn’t listen to him with so much emotion in that pretty little head of yours.

But when you do eventually calm down, he doesn’t miss a moment. He couldn’t.

“I can never harm you, honey.” He breathes in through his nose, finally close enough to smell you. The sea air in your hair, sunshine and honeysuckles from lands he can only dream of. “I can’t even if I tried.”

Slowly, he lays you down where he had dropped his sheet—the sheet you’ve been wrapping yourself around. The sheet that smells like the both of you; that way he could imagine waking up to you the past few times he had gotten sleep. Slowly, he straddles your changed form, naked and so fucking divine it has his head spinning. “Can I take care of ya, darlin’?” He waits for you. Even when everything is pushing him to kiss you— he has to know you want this.

He has to know you’re not miserable.

Seeing this, you take a deep breath. You hold his face. Your skin, smooth and not exactly human, bright against his, earth-marred, bloody, and burnt from days in the sun. And yet, you do not see those flaws. All you see are his warm eyes, so desperate to tell you he wants you, and yet so willing to walk away if you asked. So you grip him by his shirt, pulling him against you in a wanton, desperate kiss.

It is the first kiss you share. The first of the hundreds you’ll share that night. But you will always remember that first.

Because it’s burning against your cool skin. Because the scratch of his scruff is a sensation you have not felt in the long life you have lived. He holds your face, bringing your head closer to him, pressing against the front of his skull, making you whine from want as he deepens the kiss. You’ll always remember it because you know this kiss.

You can already see the ending before the two of you ever began.

His hand slips into your hair, his mouth pulling away from yours, only to drift down  your cheek, your jaw… He chuckles against your skin when you gasp so meekly, melting like butter in his arms.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispers, marking the crook of your neck with his mouth. “Let me show you how ya have me wrapped around your pretty li’l finger.”

Already, you can see him in your memories, tangled up in him. His kisses on your neck, his spit drying against your skin. His fingers reaching and tearing you apart. In the eternity you’ll be facing alone… he’s there. Just there, a willing invitation to a dream.

He’s pushing your legs up, now fully transformed, and he comprehends everything. Without words, it seems, things simply come naturally to him. He cups your cheek with one hand, folding your body in half as your legs drape over his broad shoulders. His thumb brushes your lips, and you part them for him. You let him fuck his thumb into your wet mouth, groaning at the way you suck on him. “Good girl…”

Just then, his other hand reaches down, a warm sensation cupping your cunt as you whine softly against him, looking him in the eye. “Good God, are you always this soakin’?”

You slowly pull back, shivering softly from the sensation of him parting your folds. Only you, Joel. No one else can do this to me. He comprehends, and he groans again, leaning down to kiss you. His cock aches in the confines of his pants. Just like that, everything dulls out and he can only comprehend this: to have you. You, you, and just you.

“Guess I have some makin’ up to do to ya, huh?”

Just then, his head disappears between the valley of your breasts, marking a trail of blood-red hickeys down to your stomach, one hand pinching a nipple harshly enough to make you squeal, to which he shushes you again. Gonna get us caught, doll. He continues his way, finally finding your sweet cunt. He shifts his hands so he can slowly part your folds. He kisses the inside of your thighs just as you clamp one hand over your whining mouth. And, with nothing left to do, he takes a deep breath, looking at your face as he sinks his tongue down between your folds, tasting you with a longing groan of delight.

Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.

All you can feel is the flurry of rhythm Joel sets. His trembling jaw, as if whispering prayers to whatever powers may be. His tongue splitting you open and fucking you raw in a way so obscene, you think it’s unbecoming. Perhaps it is. Perhaps by letting him have you this way, you have turned your back on your world. But he fucks one finger into your surprisingly warm cunt and everything else fades away into the silence.

“Fuck, baby…” It’s so easy, you whining urging him on, calling for him and begging to just keep going, dear God. One finger becomes two, then three. Then he raises himself so he can see your face better. So he can see the way your features contort into a heavenly amalgamation of beauty and pleasure and wonder in one full spectrum. But there is nothing more beautiful when his fingers brush against something that made you keen closer to his touch, eyes wide open with your mouth trembling.

“That’s it, isn’t it, darlin’? It is, huh?” He chuckles, the rumble of it vibrating from his chest, echoing to the backs of your thighs, and finally, straight to your wanting cunt. He smirks, his upper body shifting so his arm was much more free— just so he can keep aiming for that one spot that made you keen so beautiful he gets a glance of your otherworldly beauty.

A long forgotten poem comes up from the back of his head, just as he was pulling your orgasm from your willing frame, his other hand covering your mouth before you get too loud just so you wouldn’t be interrupted, caught, and possibly separated.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. “Good fuckin’ girl. Such a good girl, honey…” I did not think they’ll sing for me.

You shut your eyes, grinding your hips into his touch, chasing a sensation you can’t even dare put into words. You whine into the palm of his hand, feeling as if your skin, normally so cool, set on fire with the desire you have for Joel. You peer through your damp lashes, making out the silhouette of his smirk, his warm eyes somewhat swelling with pride.

“Joel… there’s… there–” you barely get the words out when you feel it. Your vision going white, the electricity flowing through your body, and coming out of you in warm bursts.

Heaven, you think, from how Joel so lovingly described it.

When you come to, he’s pulling his fingers away, and a spurt of fluids follow in the wake of his absence. He chuckles, the sound of it emanating the very depths of your consciousness. “Didn’t know ya could do that, pretty girl.”

It leaves you warm, slightly sleepy. Slightly drifting in and out—the way the ocean climbs and recedes from the shore.

You don’t notice the way Joel watches you. The way blood smeared your perfect face. You do not notice his hand tracing down your torso, coloring it a faded, rusty red. Marked by him, and for him.

And yet if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so will I endure. For already have I suffered so much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and wars. Let she be added to the tales of those.

“Please eat,” he finally says as he kisses your forehead. “I saved a plate for you.”

So you do. You sit up, trembling, the cool porcelain pressed against your thigh as you feasted. Grapes, expensive nuts, and meats you could only dream of. You try not to think of the price he paid to lavish you with such an offering. Because now, instead of the guilt, you feel the rumblings of power in your veins. You have become his very god, the one he’d slay men for. The very god to which he offers a plate paid for by carnage. And if you’ve become god, what can you offer him?

Heaven was not fit to house a creature such as I.

—-

He makes love to you after dinner. Slow, careful. He doesn’t want to terrify you. He doesn’t want to get caught, either. He has you on his lap, your cool hands cupping his heated face, spineless from pleasure as he fucks up into you, giving you a moment to accommodate him and get used to the feeling of his cock stretching you wide open. Every vein, his very length, arching and filling you up in the best way there is to be filled.

“Tell me you want this,” he asks, and you oblige him. You whine for him, calling, biting your lip and throwing your head back. You lead his hand to your chest, heaving with slow, shaky breaths. He knows what you want without ever asking it of you. And that is why he squeezes the curve of your breast, sitting up to press his mouth to your collarbone. The kisses set your skin aflame, his fingers pinching and pulling the pleasure from your willing body.

So he gives you everything. You cum once again with you on top of him. You cum again after he bends you over the nearest table with his rough fingers rubbing circles on your needy clit. And on the third time, somewhere when it’s quiet, you both lie on the blanket, your back to his chest, his cock unmoving inside of you.

It’s a moment of respite. A lull. A moment to catch breaths.

“How much did you see earlier?”

His arm is around your waist, his mustache brushing against the back of your ear. It’s nice. It’s almost domestic, a word so foreign to you. Perhaps domesticity is something innately human. But he makes you have a taste of it. And it tastes so sweet. You hum softly, tilting your head so he can kiss more of your neck.

“I saw the first man you killed,” you tell him, to which he groans, pulling you closer. “I couldn’t watch any more after that. It was… too much.” You feel his teeth brushing against the curve of your ear. Then he bites gently just to hear you squirm.

“I don’t want you lookin’ anymore, sweetheart,” he whispers, “not if it’s going to upset you this much.” He leans up, peering over your peaceful face, with your eyes shut and your body languid. “But… I suppose I’ll try.” You open one eye, peering up at him. “Less murders, my queen, yes ma’am.”

You giggle, pressing your palm to his mouth as he continues to tease you with such pet names. He speaks behind your palm. Angel baby, cutie pie… Other pet names you don’t comprehend because the sounds disappear into your cool skin.

And then he’s fucking you again, with you on your side and him above you, caging you in his arms. You catch your lip between your teeth, gritting out half-choked moans. Already, the pleasure has begun to border the line between pleasure and pain. Already, you feel your legs quaking, but you feel the tremble in his spine as well.

He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

That’s when you notice how sporadic his bursts of movement are becoming. Fewer and shorter in between. So, you begin to give back, maneuvering your bodies so you’re laying on top of him once more, digging your blunt nails down against his biceps. You feel his hands on your waist. Bloody hands that have taken an infinite number of lives before you. Bloody hands that will take who knows how many lives after. Bloody hands, that, despite their track record, hold you as if you are so fragile in his grasp.

Gentleness incomprehensible. The best of the world in the palms of his hands.

The both of you, flying into deep, empty space. Alone with Joel in the aether.

Watching his orgasm wash over him just as yours does for the fourth and last time. He pulls you into his chest, letting you moan into his chest. The only thing that betrays his release is the stuttered breaths, the shaky fingers. That is all. And then you feel the warmth of his seed, buried deep within you, treasured and tucked away. It’s so much, you feel it reach places you didn’t expect it to be.

Even when he’s ending things, he’s giving you everything he’s got.

In the afterglow, he takes care of you. Already, the sun is rising  Once again, you won’t see him until it’s dark again. You’ll be turning away from the world and dreaming of those eyes and his smile. But for now, he wipes you clean, kissing your forehead as he brings you back to your tub. For now, you hold his hand for another minute.

“Y’know… Sarah loved playing siren as a fuckin’ kid,” he finally says, cleaning up the plates in silence. “She loves the sea.”

You peer over the lip of the tub, smiling up at him dreamily. “She must be so beautiful. With your smile?” You sigh, leaning back as you look up at the ceiling. “You must miss her much.”

He brushes your cheek with a sigh, shrugging. “Every fuckin’ day, baby.”

He walks away from you, and you wait for him to look back. He does, with a shit-eating smirk at your dazed eyes, neck marked up by his own doing. “Don’t kill anybody today, Joel.”

He nods slowly. “Get some sleep, squirt.” As you turn away, the smile drops. He cannot show that vulnerability out there, amongst the men he’s shared blood, sweat, and tears with. Men he killed from and men he killed with. Men who’d want to tear you apart and swallow you whole. Men who’d kill him if they knew what the two of you did all night.

Then how should I begin to spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways? How should I presume?

He doesn’t have to presume for long. Not when he emerges on deck and he sees the dark shadow of land specking the endless sea of blue he had grown accustomed to. There stands the rise and fall of a mountain, a jagged line breaking the skyline.

The Captain speaks, and the shock burns through him so rapidly that he tries to hide it by leaning against the starboard side.

We hit land midday tomorrow. Our li’l baggage ‘bout to finally bring in some fuckin’ money.

The clock is ticking, what else can he do? Go, go, go.

—

When Joel returns, he’s waking you from a long, languid sleep. You turn to smile at him, but there’s a different look in his eyes. An urgency, a finger pressed to your lips to ensure silence. He carries you from the water and you’re brought up close to see the crease on his forehead. When he wraps you in the sheet, that’s when he speaks.

“Need t’get ya out of here, baby.”

The great escape. The prison break.

Now you feel the tension.

He waits for you to turn, to become inconspicuous. Meanwhile, he’s hot on his heels. He’s gripping a rucksack in his hands, heavy with some inconceivable baggage, muttering to himself. You start to understand the madness. You start to wonder if there’s two versions of Joel waiting behind every door. One of them is the lover— the man who’d kiss you as he introduces you to a world of pleasure. Then there was the monster— the man who sliced open the throat of the person he was robbing blind, the man who fired the harpoon that caused your imprisonment.

“So the monster has come to set me free of my bonds.”

You rise, shaky on your legs and clothed in that sheet that kept you modest. It’s when he stops in his tracks, looking you in the eye before sighing, tearing the cloth away from you to introduce a linen shirt of his. It smells of him; perhaps it even reeks of him.

“They’re going to butcher you if I don’t try, sweetheart.”

You do what you promised to yourself you’ll do when he asks you something. You put your blind faith into his hands and take a leap.

He leads you through a maze of rooms you cannot comprehend. You stop at the crosshairs. You duck under tables when he asks you to. And you know why. Because the men who thirst for your blood can be found on every corner. Because you’re running out of time. Because he’d rather lose you to the waves than those who shed blood like he does.

In a matter of minutes, you find yourselves in the cool evening air. It’s a blind spot, and it’s far enough that he helps you to the raft while it’s almost silent. The sounds of men beginning to have dinner so distant and far away, it’s like an entirely different world. Skillfully, Joel lowers you both into the ocean, the distant beating of the waves masking the sound of him cutting the rope that tethered you to the ship.

He keeps one hand on the behemoth you’ve escaped, and he audibly counts. Quiet enough for you to hear. Tens. Hundreds. Then, a thousand seconds passes.

He pauses, straining to hear. In the flickering light of the lanterns, you see the silver in his hair and his beard. You wonder, momentarily, if it’s the last you’ll see of him. That’s when you hear it.

Yells. But not of alarm. Not of you, their treasured prisoner, missing from her cage. It’s the yells of panic. Of suffering. Of pain.

Upon seeing your features, Joel finally reveals the hidden card up his sleeve.

“I poisoned them. I poisoned them and robbed them blind so they’ll never come after you.”

You look to him, waiting for another shoe to drop. But there is none. This is who he is, laid bare for you to see. Your devotee, giving you the ultimate sacrifice. This is not the monster nor the lover. This is Joel. All masks have fallen to their knees and prostrated themselves before you. Every post abandoned and conquered, only for you.

“Go.”

You blink, and his trembling fingers hold your cheeks, his shaky lips kissing the crown of our head.

“No one’s coming for you as long as I’m there to stop them.”

When you don’t move, he grits his teeth, as if caught between a rock and a hard place. A second passes, then his arms take you, throwing you overboard and into the familiar depths of an ocean below.

The waves welcome you with a surge of power, relentless and enduring. More immortal than you. More divine than you can ever hope to be. The moment you are released from Joel’s hold, the saltwater licks clean the wound on your shoulder. It washes away the scent of Joel’s shirt.

He’s already being erased from you.

From beneath the depths, everything comes back to you. The kiss on your hand, the scraps of food. His sticky, bloodmarked fingers marking you. All of it, slipping through your fingers like sand. In the cool darkness of the open sea, all you can see is a flame starting from the base where you last saw Joel. A fire spreading amongst the ship which you once hailed your prison.

You can see Joel’s boat, smaller in comparison, already racing away towards the shore.

All you can do now, with the power of Poseidon surging and bubbling beneath your veins, is to sing. To sing a hymn that begs before the very gods themselves. But it’s a song that begs Joel, too. Begs him to remember you.

Don’t forget me. You do not know if he hears you. Don’t forget me.

You attempt to follow him beneath the waves.

Don’t forget me.

—-

Against all odds, Joel Miller disembarks from the train to find himself in a farmland so familiar to him. Against all odds, it is three weeks later, and he’s followed all the roads and finds himself home.

He breathes in the smell of wheat under the scorching summer heat. He embraces it. He puts one foot ahead of the other, sea legs no longer present. The ground is too still that it still sometimes unnerves him.

A few meters away, he catches sight of the house. The windows wide open, the breeze making the curtains dance within. And on his porch is a familiar figure that had lowered her book and peered in his direction. He sees her face, and relief encompasses his bones. Sarah.

She’s running to him, yelling, loud and youthful and her face is like the sun. He feels himself smiling, too. The first time in weeks. Miles of walking and sleepless nights fade away with each step you take closer together. Then she’s running to his arms squealing as he embraces her.

Tell me. Is this really then Ithaca?

Finally, the years that separate the little family are slowly bridged. He rebuilds. He tells her stories. He tells her about you. When the sun sets, he tucks Sarah in and kisses her forehead.

Now, here he is. A couple of months that feels like decades have passed him by. He dreamt of you every night for the past three weeks. He sits in his bath, wondering if this was ever how you felt in those long, terrifying days. Did you feel peace, too?

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown.

His eyes fall shut. His breath slows.

A moment of peace as he sees your face, smiling at him, languid hands reaching and asking him to follow you.

He hears your voice, singing into his ear as he chuckles.

Until human voices wake us, and we drown.

-

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @boofy1998 @persephone-girl @lunxramour @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pirate!joel miller x siren!reader #pirate!joel miller #pirate!au #siren!au #mermaid!au

[aalyssah]

Trust

Pairing: Billy Loomis x Reader

Warnings: Angst/Fluff, Choking, Killing, Threats.

Word Count: 1,544

Summary: Billy tests you to see if he can trust you with his secret.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Billy Loomis. Hope You Enjoy!

Your eyelids we're heavy as you fought sleep. You just finished studying your exam for school and it's been stressing you out, on top of it all your parents are on a business trip and you haven't seen your boyfriend Billy in weeks.

He hasn't call or text you in almost 2 weeks and you missed him so much, but you understood that he had his own life. He wasn't one for studying or caring about his work, he mainly just hung out with Stu and partied.

Another thing that your not so sure about is his job.  You don't know what he does, but he leaves you with saying a word and one time you asked him what he does and it turned into an argument. You noted yourself never ask him that again. A knock at your window broke you out your thoughts.

You pulled the blanket off and went to the window and saw it was your boyfriend. Excited, you pushed your curtains back and Billy busted through the moment you opened it, landing on the floor. "Billy!" You almost fell from the force he entered the room.

You noticed blood all over him. "Billy! Are you ok? What's wrong?" You ran to your bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit from your cabinet. "Sit on the bed." You yelled, while getting the things ready. You came out and Billy was smiling. "Babe, are you hurt?" You crouched down and tried wiping some blood away, but he scooted back.

"Bill, why are you-" The first aid kit fell out your hand as Billy shot up and grabbed you, with his arm around your throat. You struggled and let out whimpers while squeezing his wrist to loosen his hold. "Shhh, Y/n." You kept trying to stop him, but he wouldn't let go. "B-bill." He loosened up a little so you could get some air. "Y'know Y/n, I'm not hurt."

'So who's blood is that?' You thought. "W-what?" You then felt something cold and sharp come on your sides. You looked down and saw a knife and closed your eyes tightly. "No, no, open your eyes." He brought the knife up to your face and traced your jaw line.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. "I have two questions for you. Do you trust me?" You we're a little confused on why he was asking. His arm was hovering over your throat so you could answer. One wrong answer and he could choke you to death. "Yes?" You tone was confused and questioning. "Right answer." He hummed.

"Last one. What if I killed someone for you?" Your blood ran cold as you heard his question. Why would he kill someone for you? Does anyone else know? So many questions were going through your head. "Billy-What?" You lifted your head up and looked at him. "What if I killed someone for you?" He repeated.

"Billy are you joking?" You just couldn't think of someone like Billy to kill someone especially for you. Theres no one that you hate, in fact everyone loved you. "Look at me Y/n. Do you think I'm joking?" Your eyes trailed down to his neck and saw the blood, busies, and scratches on his wrist as if he fought someone.

"D-did you-" You stopped yourself from thinking of him like that. "Since you trust me, will you kill someone for me, like I did for you?" You loved Billy and would do anything for him, but he asking you to KILL someone. For no reason. "I-I" You loved Billy to the fullest, but he was sounding crazy. "Think about it baby, we could be the next Bonnie & Clyde."

That's the thing, you didn't want to think of yourself being some serial killer. "Billy I love you, but you sound crazy!" Billy let out a chuckled which left you confused. "Follow me." He grabbed your harshly and guided you to the living room.

As you walked in you saw your friend Randy tied to a dining room chair. "Randy?" You tried walking to him, but Billy's grip tightened. Muffled screams could be heard coming from the tape on Randy's mouth. "Billy, why is Randy here?" Your voice sounded scared because y'all were just talking about killing someone and he brings you to someone tied to a chair.

All you got was a laugh. "You know how I said if you would kill someone for me?" No way, you thought. There's no way he gonna make you do what you think he is. "Well, now is the time." He placed the knife in your hands. Your hands shook as you looked at Randy and back to Billy. "Billy please don't make me do this." You pleaded.

Randy was your bestfriend and you loved him like a brother. "But, I thought you love and trust me. Do you not wanna be with me?" His voice raised a little at the end. He was guilt tripping you and it was slowly working. "N-no! I do, but R-Randy." You looked back at him and saw how sad he looked. Billy walked over and ripped the tape off his mouth.

"PLEASE! Y/n don't do it!" He yelled a little bit his voice sounded like it was scratchy. You didn't know what to choose. You've been with Billy for years, but on the other hand you have your bestfriend. "Y/n, baby, remember the time Randy made you break up with your ex-boyfriend?" 

You used to have a boyfriend before Billy and you loved him, but Randy convinced you to break up with him. It tore you to pieces especially when he wasn't there to comfort you. That's when Billy took in the place of your ex. "He ignored you and didn't help you, but who was there for you?" He was trying to make Randy look like the bad person now.

“Y-you." You squeezed the knife in your hands to stop yourself from feeling anger. "That's right, ME. And who beat up every guy in our last school because SOMEONE started rumors about you being a slut?" Randy was shaking because he knew Billy was talking about him. "You." Billy shook his head.

"N-no, Y/n, don't believe him, he's just doing this to guilt trip you! Don't listen to him, he just wants you to kill me!" Randy tried reasoning with you, but Billy already put him on the spot. "Y/n who tried to get you kicked out of your parents house? Who tried to sabotaging your request to get into that collage you wanted?" Billy was pointing out all the great details that lead to Randy.

"Y/n! That's the past! We can get over that!" You started shaking your head. "N-no! No!" Before you knew it, your feet took you over to Randy and raised your hand up. "Y/N! STOP! BILLY IS USING YOU! CAN’T YOU SEE IT? HE’S NOT GOOD FOR YOU!" Now he's talking bad about your boyfriend?

Although Randy had been with you through the good times, he's the one that caused the bad times and you were too blind to see it. "Don't you ever talk about my boyfriend!" Your hand quickly slashed down, straight through this chest. His mouth dropped open as blood came dripping out. You pulled back and quickly thrusted in his throat.

Billy was smiling as he watched you literally stab the life out of Randy. He didn't expect you to be so violent. You stab he repeatedly until you collapsed on his body crying. Billy slow clapped as he walked over to you. His hands made it’s way around your body and picked you up. "Don't cry baby, you did so good." He kissed your forehead as you cried your heart out.

A sudden burst inside of you made you pull back. "Why? Why did you make me do this!" You sobbed out while punching his chest. The knife was dropped out your hand. Blood was everywhere, on the carpet, your clothes, the chair, everywhere. "I didn't make you, I didn't have the knife in my hand." You cried as he pulled you back in his chest. "We can be Bonnie & Clyde 2.0, wouldn't you like that?"

You thought back to what he said earlier. 'Do you not wanna be with me?' 'Don't you trust me?' You love this man and you would do anything to be with him. Plus, you already killed someone's like he asked, there was going back. "Yes, Billy. Let's be Bonnie & Clyde 2.0" The smile that grew on Billy's face made one appear on yours. "My god I love you!" He picked you up and spun you around in circles.

The choked up gargling sounds could be heard from Randy in the background. Before Billy could do anything you took the knife out his pocket and threw it straight in Randy’s eye without looking back. "Fuck, that was so hot." Billy didn't expect you to do that, but good did that make him get a boner. "Imma gonna love you being my partner."

His hand cupped the back of your head as you two shared a fast sloppy kiss.

#billy loomis #billy loomis smut #billy loomis fluff #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis headcanons #billy loomis x female reader #slasher smut #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher x slasher #slasher imagines #slasher

[cancerian-woman]

"you want every male character to be obsessed with bonnie" when bonnie had a total of 2 love interests in all of 8 seasons while the other girlies had more than one major romance AND minor love interests like bffr

Bonnie had 2 canon love interests. Jeremy which lasted until season 6. Then Enzo was an afterthought at the very last bit of season 7. We couldn’t even get Bonnie being bisexual and dating Nora. The other girls got to experience romance and have sex be seen as sexy or beautiful. But, Bonnie? Nothing close.

Throughout TVD it was very clear Elena/Caroline weren’t virgins and had sex. Bonnie didn’t lose her virginity until S5 and on top of that Jesse died + passed through her as the anchor meaning Bonnie was in physical torture while having sex. She was shown in bed with Enzo but never a scene where he’s stripping her down or anything else of the sort. They completely desexualized Bonnie.

We can’t forget there was a literal Bamon ban & Julie’s Kennett meltdown on Twitter. Kat herself said she pitched for Bonnie’s sexuality being explored and got shut down. Yet in TO Freya’s bisexual in the last two seasons of the show.

It has to be some pro/Elena/Caroline fan. It’s funny these hateful anons came targeted me after a certain Elena fan made a reverse racism claim towards Bonnie fans and Caroline/Elena. (And a bunch of other negative posts to Bonnie fans…) If it isn’t that person, it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s always okay to ship E & C with whomever but as soon as Bonnie fans do anything here come the criticisms, the OOC-ness or any other harassment for simply engaging in fandom.

i may write a lot of opinions but i truly don’t care what someone else likes or how they engage bc who am I to tell you how to have fun? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ yet whoever sending those anon hates seems to be determined on policing Bonnie fans.

thank you for the ask & positive words!

#dria responds

[do-angels-dream-of-starry-seas]

@naranjapetrificada tagged me in a very fun game: write 8 predictions you have for the 8 eps of ofmd s2, then tag 8 people (sorry if you were already tagged by someone else if I do)

Spoilers under cut??? Maybe?????

1. I agree with Naran, as I think the crashed wedding is gonna be the first thing from s2. It will be such an introduction too, my god!

2. As a parallel with ep 1 and 2, I think Lucius will be revealed to be alive at the end of ep 1. And then ep 2 starts with his perspective, going through everything up until whatever present moment were on (maybe he knocks out and kidnaps Izzy or something lol)

3. Of course, ep 3 parallels, Stede and Ed will reunite at the end of the ep. And STEDE IS GONNA RESCUE ED

4. But now, I think by what we've seen so far, Anne Bonny and Spanish Jackie will show up during Stede's journey back to Ed. It would be funny if the reason Swede is there with Jackie is to throw her off, taking one for the team XD

5. That purple party though... must be related to Susan I think (and I think she's gonna be Ching Shih). But I am absolutely down for a Ed and Stede slow dance

6. As much as I want my "Stede and Ed deserted on an island bottle episode", I think what's gonna happen is Ed is "accidentally" swept overboard during a storm (we find out though he wasn't planning to fight out of his circumstances), and he has a little journey by himself. Hornigold ghost, maybe a pearl necklace swept up to shore? And hey, it could be a one-man play with Taika as a bottle episode still

7. But here now, I'm gonna upset people - I think one of the main supporting cast members is gonna die. Gonna be a real dramatic moment, an All Is Lost story beat. And I said it before, but I think it's gonna be Buttons - he's loyal to Stede and the crew, and would not hesitate to sacrifice himself if it came to it. I'm just suspecting, and I hope it isn't true, but the show has proven there's no plot armor

8. Omg Naran, I am taking your idea now of that cliffhanger. Because if Stede and Ed have a "our last night together" sex scene?????? I will combust, I swear. Even though I am still certain that a blackbonnet sex scene will not come until s3, I am hoping now for your theory to come true, because that would be the most emotional shit (and I mean, I am hoping for a slightly funny but more emotional love scene). I AM though, also certain there's gonna be a cliffhanger for the season. Hopefully not causing Stede and Ed to separate, it could just be like, them looking at the new danger (Lieutenant Maynard), then cut to black

Tagging @xoxoemynn @chocolatepot @jellybeanium124 @sherlockig @chuplayswithfire @artgirlfunkel @alabastermask @glamaphonic

#ofmd #our flag means death #ask game #mutuals my beloved #let.me.dream.with.ofmd #this was more gentlebeard focused #but what did you expect #this was fun to try to piece together #a timeline for the season

[denimbex1986]

'Doctor Who drew in a peak of 6.2M viewers for Ncuti Gatwa's much-anticipated debut as the 15th Time Lord on Saturday.

The third and final special to mark the sci-fi series' 60th Anniversary saw David Tennant's brief return to the role end when he regenerated into Sex Education star Ncuti, 31.

However, all was not as it seemed as a huge twist saw both versions of the Doctor remain on screen, in a huge move away from tradition on the long-running show.

The much-anticipated episode pulled in around 4.5million average viewers with a peak of just more than 6million, according to new overnight ratings.

In comparison, Jodie Whittaker's last ever episode as she bowed out of the role only racked in 3.6million average viewers with a peak of 4million.

Ncuti's debut came when 'creepy' returning villain The Toymaker, played by Neil Patrick Harris, shot David's Doctor through the chest, forcing him to regenerate.

The Toymaker had turned human beings on Earth mad, before challenging the Doctor to a deadly game - which put the planet at stake - forcing the Time Lord to accept to try and save Earth.

Shooting the Doctor, The Toymaker said: 'I played one game with the First Doctor, I played the second with this Doctor, so your rules declare that I must play the third game with the next Doctor!'

His companions Donna Noble (Catherine Tate) and the returning Melanie Bush (Bonnie Langford) ran over to support him as he regenerated, with fans expecting that to be the end for David's character.

Melanie reassured him: 'You're going to be someone else, it doesn't matter who, because every single one of you is fantastic!'

While David tearfully said: 'It's time, here we go again! Alonzee,' as he expected to be replaced, but a huge twist saw his character remain alongside his new incarnation.

As he remained after the regeneration, he asked Donna and Melanie: 'Could you, pull? It feels different this time,' and as they yanked on his arms, Ncuti shot out of him and the two Time Lords stood alongside each other in a massive twist.

Making his hotly-anticipated debut, Ncuti's Doctor shouted: 'No way!' as he laid eyes on David, moving away from tradition which normally sees one Doctor replace another upon regeneration.

David said: 'You're me,' while Ncuti replied: 'No, I'm me. I think I'm really, really me! Oh-ho-ho I am completely me!'

When asked what had happened, Ncuti's Doctor said: 'Bi-generation, I have bi-generated. There's no such thing, bi-generation is supposed to be a myth, but-!'

The pair of Doctors then used their talents to face off with The Toymaker together and incredibly managed to beat him at his own game, sending the villain out of existence forever.

David's Doctor said: 'Best of three, and my prize, Toymaker, is to banish you from existence, for ever!'

'No, you can't. But I - not fair, please,' the Toymaker said, before giving the ominous warning: 'My legions are coming.'

However, it appears that it is not the end, as a mystery hand was seen picking up the Toymaker's gold tooth as it was left behind - after The Toymaker had told the Doctor how he defeated villain The Master and trapped him in the tooth.

After banishing The Toymaker from the world, both David and Ncuti's versions of the character stayed on screen, and went back to the TARDIS with Donna.

David asked Ncuti: 'How's this going to work, you and me?' as the huge twist saw two Doctors remain after a regeneration for the first time ever.

Ncuti told him: 'You're thin as a pin love, you're running on fumes,' before urging him to slow down and 'stop' rather than running and travelling in the TARDIS.

Ncuti then paid tribute to a whole host of former companions, including the late Elisabeth Sladen, who portrayed Sarah Jane Smith and sadly died in 2011.

'Sarah Jane has gone, can you believe that for a second?' Ncuti said as they sweetly paid tribute to the iconic actress.

Ncuti then told David's Doctor to try and lead a life of his own, to which David said: 'I've never let the TARDIS go, never, that would hurt.'

In another huge twist, Ncuti managed to transform the one TARDIS into two separate time machines as a 'reward' for them winning the game against The Toymaker, under his rules where games override logic.

The episode ended with Ncuti heading off for more time-travelling adventures in the TARDIS, while David stayed on Earth with Donna and her family in a sweet happy ending for David's character after he briefly returned to the role.'

#The Giggle #Bi-generation #Doctor Who #60th Anniversary #David Tennant #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #Ncuti Gatwa #Neil Patrick Harris #The Toymaker #Sarah Jane Smith #Elisabeth Sladen #TARDIS #Sex Education #Jodie Whittaker #Bonnie Langford #Melanie Bush

[mssleepy876b]

To Flourish- Chapter 1

Summary: Carina Andrews had the outward appearance of a charmed New York Socialite life but the truth of her family was hidden from the public. Studying for a history degree in Richmond, a personal mystery leads her to the small town of Mystic Falls. That mystery connects her to the unknown world of the supernatural and later to the Original Family. How will this all change this young woman who is in uncharted waters?

Requested? No. Thanks though to @sleepmusicland for the encouragement to post.

Word count: 1533

Warnings: Slow Burn. Eventual smut scene and violence. Starts TVD Season 2, switches to TO as story progresses.

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes. Feedback PLEASE!!!

To Flourish Chapter 1

                Carina Andrews felt the cooling autumn air flow through her brown hair as her rental car travelled southwest from Charlottesville, Virginia.  The small, isolated town of Mystic Falls was her destination.  She was hoping that this town would be the final in the journey to understand the mark on her neck and the magic attached to it.  She prayed that the mystery of this mark and how it effects on her health could be solved thanks to the lead she was given in Richmond that then took her to Charlottesville.  The name of an expert which sent her to Mystic Falls was Sheila Bennett.

                She sighed as she pulled her car into the small bed and breakfast she had rented online.   After checking in, she walked through the quiet town square breathing in the calm evening air.  She focused on the Mystic Grill where people seemed to be heading in and out.  As she entered, the warm environment welcomed her in.  A smiling blonde haired young man gave her a menu and a promise to return with a glass of Sweet Tea.

                The young man, Matt, she learned his name was came back and got her dinner order and as the evening calmed, he came to chat with her.  She smiled as he came towards her table and surprised her as he sat down.  “So, what brings you to us here in Mystic Falls?” he asked her.

                “That obvious that I am new, huh?” she said.

                “Nah, not obvious but I have lived here all my life.  Haven’t seen you before and there is a new car parked over in the Bed and Breakfast lot.” He said shrugging.

                She chuckled before she spoke again.  “Sounds like the local police have a good recruit for their future.  But you are right.  I am new, not sure how long I will stay.  It all depends on how this search for answers will last.  It is time to solve the mystery of my life.”  He looked confused and concerned which caused her to speak up again.  “I have a birthmark, I guess you could call it, on the back and base of my neck.  It seems to fade and darken at different times in my life.  It effects my health horribly when it fades.  I usually end up in the hospital for anemia or something else like it.  The doctors can never find a cause for it.  I am tired of trying normal medical roads to understand this.  So, in Richmond, I reached out to a healer, she focused on herbs and non-traditional cures.  My mark mystified her, so she sent me to a peer in Charlottesville, who sent me here to meet a Ms. Sheila Bennett.  The healer in Charlottesville said Ms. Bennett was the only expert she knew who could give me an answer.”

                Matt could sense her frustration and fear, so he reached out a placed a hand on her arm.  “I just want to know what this is and how I can live a normal life.”  She said with a sigh.

                He smiled slightly and spoke, “Well, you are in luck.  Ms. Sheila is someone I have known all my life.  Her granddaughter is one of my best friends.  There she is, Bonnie.” He said pointing out a pretty African American teenager laughing with a blonde and brunette girl.  “Bonnie and Ms. Sheila are good people.  I will introduce you to Bonnie, if you want.”

                Carina reached out and caught his arm stopping him as he moved to stand.  “Can we do that tomorrow, Matt?  I am exhausted from the drive and feel it is time to head to my bed for the night.   But your help is a wonderful gift.“ she said smiling at him.

                “Sure.  Head out and I will arrange with Bonnie to meet you tomorrow.” He said as she stood to leave.

                “Thanks, Matt, I do appreciate it.” Carina said moving to head out the door.  She sighed and pulled her jacket closer feeling the chill in the night as she turned to walk over to the bed and breakfast.  She changed her clothes and snuggled down into her bed and sighed hoping that tomorrow would lead her to the answers she needed.

                The next morning, Carina smiled at the calm and quiet that seemed to surround Mystic Falls when compared to Richmond.  She wandered down to the quiet sitting room where she had her tea and a Danish and enjoyed a morning by the fire.  She figured that Matt and Bonnie would be at school, so she took out her computer and her wi-fi hotspot to check on her own college work while she waited.  After a small lunch at the Bed and Breakfast, Carina walked to the town square and sat on a bench to enjoy the quiet and the sunshine with a book she was reading for a class that had her fascinated.  A presence caught her attention from her book, her eyes met with a blonde woman in a police uniform who wandered over to her.

                “So, I guess you are the young guest at Ms. White’s bed and breakfast?” she said.

                “Yes, Officer.  My name is Carina Andrews, but please call me Cari.” Cari said standing and offering her hand to shake.

                The woman shook her hand.  “It is Sheriff actually, Sheriff Forbes.  Nice to meet you Cari, but I would guess that you and my daughter are similar in age.  Why are you not in school?”

                “That is easy, Sheriff.  I am already a High School Graduate.  I graduated early due being advanced from the other students I went to school with.  I am currently working on a final project for a bachelor’s degree in History from the University of Richmond in an accelerated program of study.  I actually sat in a virtual lecture earlier today and emailed a professor about a project for another class that I submitted for feedback before the final version is due.”  Cari reached in her pocket for her wallet and pulled out a college ID card.  “Here you go, Sheriff, here is my ID card from campus.  Hopefully, that clears up any concerns.”

                “Yes, Cari, thank you very much.  It does.  Why did you come to Mystic Falls from Richmond?” Sheriff Forbes asked.

                “I was suggested to meet Ms. Sheila Bennett for a health advisor.  The healers that I met with in both Richmond and Charlottesville led me here.  Matt from the Grill told me he would introduce me to her Granddaughter, Bonnie, this afternoon after school.” Cari told her.

                “Well, I hope Ms. Sheila can help you.  Her expertise with Herbs and natural remedies is well known throughout town.  Enjoy your visit and let me know if I can be of any help.” Sheriff Forbes said as another officer called out to her.  Cari smiled and nodded as Sheriff Forbes stood and left the park.

                Later that afternoon, Matt called Cari and invited her to the Grill.  He introduced her to Caroline, the sheriff’s daughter, Bonnie, Ms. Bennett’s granddaughter, and Elena Gilbert.  It was a strange sensation as Cari and Elena met.  They could be mistaken for sisters.  But as far as Cari knew she had no sisters even though she had been adopted as a child.  But the girls, with Matt, were very welcoming and Cari shared the story of her mark.  Bonnie took her hand and could sense the magic connected to her mark and said it felt very old.

                Bonnie called her grandmother who agreed to help Cari and wanted to meet right away.  Bonnie drove for both her and Cari.  The girls took the time to discuss and get to know each other and were laughing as they entered Ms. Bennett’s home.  “Grams?” Bonnie called out as they entered.

                “In the Dining Room, Bonnie.  Bring Ms. Andrews with you.” Her voice called out to them.  Cari followed quietly feeling an energy reaching out and almost touching her.  It felt safe but unknown.  Cari walked behind Bonnie into the dining room where the warmth of candlelight filled the room, and the smell of older books filled the air and brought comfort to Cari.

                Cari met the eyes of an older woman who seemed to give off this air of wisdom and knowledge that also comforted her.  Cari stepped forward and spoke up, “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Ms. Bennett, and letting me come into your home.”

                “You are very welcome, my dear.  My granddaughter is right, the magic that affects you is very old.  I can sense it without even touching you.  My peers were right to send you to me.  I will have to search my grimoires for more about this magic.  Can I see the mark?” Sheila said quietly.

                “Of course, Ms. Bennett.” Cari said turning gathering her hair up and moving the neck of her shirt down.               

“Call me, Ms. Sheila, my girl.”  Sheila said looking over Cari’s neck.  “I have a feeling that your answers are here in Mystic Falls and my granddaughter will be adding a friend to her life.”  Cari smiled at Ms. Sheila and Bonnie then followed as they sat around the table.

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagines #elijah x reader

[ptergwen]

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

-

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

-

if i forgot you please lmk!

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic

[leossmoonn]

Unexpected Love [Kai Parker] || Part Two

masterlist | part one

pairing - kai parker x fem, human!reader

type - fluff, angst

note - read the first part, this cannot be read as a standalone! if you have read the first part then welcome back, thank you for reading the second part. so this part will be more focused on kai and the readers relationship and definitely all fiction lol (aka no actual scenes from the show) :) and part 3 is at the end!

summary - you and kai fall in love over a period of time after spending time with each other in the prison world

warnings / includes - language, alcohol, crying, fighting, mention/thinking of suicide, family trauma, lot of flirting in this one, suggestive, f/f = favorite flavour (of ice cream) lol

————

*gif isn't mine* (ugh hes so fine im dying)

I sat up straight and gasped, my eyes flying right open. I looked around frantically, sharp pain shooting right through my chest. 

“Ow,” I whined, pressing my hand gently to my side. 

“Oh, yeah. The first time you die here, it’ll hurt. I bet it’s not any different from what that ring does for you, though,” Kai’s voice ringed next to me. 

My head snapped to him, memories of what he did to me flooding back. 

“Get away from me!” I shouted, getting up out of the bed I was in. 

“I did you a favour, Y/n. You should thank me!” He exclaimed. 

“What favour! You robbed me of my only chance of getting home. Now we have no magic and the ascendent is broken!” 

“Stop shouting. Ugh, you’re giving me a headache,” he whined. 

I gave him a death glare. “You’re the one with the headache. You’re the one- I just… I’m going for a walk.”

I stomped out of the room, running down the stairs. I heard Kai’s footsteps from behind me. I walked as fast as I could without feeling any pain. Kai seemed to be full on sprinting, though, because he grabbed my wrist. 

“Let me go!” I exclaimed. “Please, Y/n. I’m sorry,” Kai pleaded.

I jerked my body away from him. “Shove it, Malachai. If you want me to forgive you, then you better leave me alone right now.”

He looked at me with wide, fearful eyes. I didn’t wait for him to say anything. I turned on my heel and made my way out of the house and back to the woods. I stomped the whole way there, my hands balled in tight fists. My fingernails dug into my skin as tears stained my cheeks. I just could not believe Kai. I knew he was a sociopath and a dick, but I didn’t think he would try to rob me of my chance at happiness. It was stupid how I thought he would even think about someone else and not himself. Sometimes he made it seem like he did care, though. It also seemed as my attraction to him from the first time we met was still there. I needed to get rid of it. I needed to find a way to get out here. Without Kai. 

I stopped walking as I realised I was deep in the woods. The cool breeze flew around me, calming me down. I closed my eyes and breathed out the air that I had been holding in. I opened my eyes to stare at the sky. It was a cloudless afternoon with bright sunshine. It was always like this. For the past few months this was all I had seen. I was more than sick of it. I wanted rain. Snow. Hail. Anything else but the sunshine for once. 

I released my hands from their fists, reaching my right hand up to my side where Bonnie’s jacket still was. I let out a strangled, but happy sound. I unwrapped it from my body, seeing that it had a huge red blood spot that was mine. I ignored it and held it up to my face, hugging it closely to my chest. 

“I’m getting out of here. I’m going home,” I promised to myself. 

I stayed in the woods until the sun started to set. I spent my time walking around some more, making up a plan. I knew how the ascendent looked before it was broken, and I was sure that Bonnie’s grimoire, that was thankfully still here, had a diagram of some sort, too. I could just build it back up. I took a shop class in high school and used to build cars with my dad, so I was quite the mechanic. Getting it to work without magic was the hard part, though. I needed a Bennett witch to access the spell. I knew Kai still had some of Bonnie’s magic in him, but I couldn’t risk telling him the plan and having it work, only for him to leave me here again. Plus, it’s not like having him use Bonnie’s magic would actually work. He wasn't actually a Bennett. He just happened to have her magic in him. 

I opened the door and stepped into the Salvatore house, looking around for Kai. I smiled, relieved that I couldn’t spot him anywhere. I shut the door behind me, kicking off my shoes and going to the liquor cabinet, popping off the top of a bottle of whiskey. I didn’t bother with a cup, I just downed it straight. The liquor burned my throat as I strutted to the kitchen, going over to the CD player and putting on Toni Braxton’s ‘Another Sad Love Song’.  

I danced around and got out the ingredients for a strawberry cake. As Toni’s song came to an end, I heard the front door open. I groaned loudly, my mood dropping immediately. I left the kitchen to see what Kai was up to. I laughed incredulously as I saw him carrying multiple duffle bags and a backpack. 

“Are you seriously moving in?” I asked. 

“Yep,” he nodded. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand? Do I need to spell it out for you so it can get through your thick skull?” I snapped, taking ahold of his arm and dragging him back to the front door. 

“I understand!” He exclaimed. “Good. Then you’ll get out,” I sneered, pushing him out the door. I went to shut it, but his arm held the door open.

“I will smash your hand in this door,” I threatened.

“Yeah, I know, but hear me out. I can help you get back,” Kai said. 

I scoffed, “I don’t want nor need your help. Get out.” I pushed the door further in his face. He dropped his bags and used both hands to keep it open. 

“I know you don’t trust me and you have no reason to, but please. I still have Bonnie’s magic in me and I can fix the ascendent with her magic,” he begged. He pouted and put on his puppy dog face.

“No,” I said without any hesitation. “You get out of my life, okay? If I ever see you, hear you, or even smell you, you’re dead, okay?”

His eyes then filled with anger and frustration. “Fine!” He exclaimed. “You know, I only even wanted to help you because I want to get out of here. We both know that I would have only left you here alone.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, then,” I smiled sourly. “See you never.” And with that, I slammed the door in his face. 

I sighed deeply, smiling in satisfaction. I went back to the kitchen and resumed my cake making. 

A few hours later and I was finishing the last pieces of cake, and watching Forrest Gump.

“Life is like a box of chocolates, huh,” I muttered. “First I’m a regular girl with human friends and a family. And now I’m a girl who who has no family, vampires, werewolves, and witches for friends, and who is stuck in a never-ending prison world!”

I rolled my head around the couch ledge, my eyes looking out the window. It was pitch black now. The stars were shining brightly, many of them twinkling. 

“Mom, Dad, Jenny, Andrew. Bonnie and Damon. If you’re out there, please help me. Send someone or something. I-I can’t do this alone, and I definitely don’t want Kai’s help. Please help me,” I cried out. I hugged a couch pillow and Bonnie’s jacket. 

I hope someone could hear me up there. Otherwise I was screwed.

————

3 months later and I was still stuck in this hell-hole. Well, at least I think it had been 3 months. Ever since Kai kept me here, I had been counting the days. It had been approximately 90 days, give or take. I was beginning to think this was actually my own personal instead of Kai’s. 

Speaking of Kai, he actually had been pretty good of avoiding me. In these 90 days, I have only ran into him twice. Once was while I was going for a morning jog and the other was when I was venturing into town, walking to the Mystic Grill and all the shops. During my stay, I have also been documenting my days with an old video camera I found. I knew that I would get out, but just in case, I would be able to have all those memories saved and if I died somehow and never came back and someone else got trapped here, they could see the glamorous life of Y/n L/n. Or what was left of it at least. 

Today was going to be different, though. For the past few months, I had been sitting in my bedroom for most of the week, crying, talking to myself, screaming at the world. I had even considered killing myself once or twice, but I knew that I would only wake up in more pain and sadness. Every day I prayed and hoped for someone to come and find me. For my friends to find out a way to get to me, even though they didn’t have the ascendent or anything. It seems as more days past, the less and less hopeful I got, though. So, I decided that the only way I was getting out of here was to do it myself, regardless if I wasn’t a magical being. 

And so right now, I was trying to build the ascendent. I was almost there, actually. It was just these little parts that were so frustrating to put back together. 

“Go together, dammit!” I exclaimed out of frustration. 

I put the device down, running my hands over my face, thinking of a solution.  Maybe I should ask Kai for help. 

No. That would only end up with me screaming at him the whole time and potentially killing him. 

But he probably still had some go Bonnie’s magic left. He could help me get out. And plus, I could just push him away last minute when we go through the portal. 

I groaned out of annoyance. I didn’t know what the right answer was. I thought I did. I thought I could do this by myself. But it turns out I can’t. It’s a lot harder than I thought and the fact that I’m a human doesn’t help either. I bit my lip in thought, racking my brain for an answer. 

“You have to ask him to help, Y/n. It’s the only way,” I sighed to myself. 

I got up from my seat and put on my shoes and jacket. I went out of the house and got into Damon’s Chevy, driving it to Kai’s house. I clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white as I parked in his driveway. Just the thought of seeing him made my stomach churn. Thing was, I didn’t quite know if it churned in a good way or bad. 

I stepped out of the car, putting the keys in my jacket pocket. I walked up to the door and gave it a good 3 knocks. A waited a few minutes, but no answer. I knocked a few more times and waited another few minutes. Still no answer. 

“Seriously?!” I whined, raising my hand to pound on the door, but Kai’s voice stopped me. 

“What are you doing here?” 

I turned around and saw him carrying grocery bags. 

“Oh. Good, you’re here,” I said, stepping down from his porch. 

“You never answered my question. What are you doing here?” He asked. 

“I need your help,” I confessed. 

His lips upturned into a smile. He let out a laugh. “Wow. Princess Y/n has gotten over her pride, huh?”

“And sociopathic Parker still harasses me with nicknames, huh?”

Kai frowned and walked up to the porch, passing by me and unlocking his house. 

“Sorry,” I sighed, following him into his house. “Will you please help me?”

“Hm, let me think about it,” he said, setting the grocery bags down. “No.”

I rolled my eyes. “C’mon! You barely thought about it. Why not?”

“Because I hate you,” he shrugged. “Why? What have I done to you?” I scoffed.

“Well, first of all you slammed a door in my face. Second, whenever we run into each other, you act like I murdered your whole family. And third, you denied my help before, but now you want it?  I think not,” he explained. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I really, really am, but I know for a fact that you want to get out. I want to, too! But I’ve learned that we can’t get out without each other. I’m sorry I let my pride take over me. So please help me,” I begged and apologised. 

Kai grinned at me. “I love this.” “Love what?” I asked. 

“I love seeing you beg,” he said, his voice dropping low. He started to walk towards me slowly. Stalking me like I was his prey. 

I backed away from him, my eyes trained on him. I let out a huff as my back hit a wall. My eyes widened and stared into his menacing eyes. 

“I love seeing you beg for me. Begging for my help like the helpless little human you are,” he muttered. 

He arms went around your sides, trapping in-between him and the wall. I breathed out heavily and shakily, averting my eyes. 

“I’m not helpless,” I protested. He smirked down at him, his eyes lighting up. “You sure about that, princess?”

The way he stressed my pet name set my fire to my heart, and set my stomach flipping. He head hung low. So low that I could fell his breath on my lips. I felt his knee nudge my thigh and that’s when I stopped breathing. I could fell myself slowly melting into a puddle right in front of him.  

“You gonna answer me, sweetheart, or are you just gonna stand there gawking at me?” He chuckled. 

I swallowed hard. “N-No.”

“Then answer me,” he teased me. “Y-Yeah… I’m sure about that,” I whispered. 

He hummed in reply. I let my eyes roam his face and set on his lips. 

“Offer is still there,” he said. “What offer?” I asked. 

“The offer to kiss me. Remember when I offered when we first met?” 

“O-Oh, yeah,” I stuttered, beginning to catch my breath

“The offer’s still there if you wanna take it.” My eyes flickered back up to his. I shook my head furiously. “I-I don’t want to take it.”

“Oh, I think you do,” he grinned. 

I then snapped out of my daze, putting my hand on shoulders and pushing back. “I said no.”

“Alright, alright,” he held his hand up in defense, backing further away from me. 

“Now you’ve had your fun, will you help me?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair. 

“I guess so,” he shrugged. My eyes lit up, “Really? Oh, my God! Yes!” 

I jumped up and went to hug him, wrapping my arms around him. I engulfed him tightly, entangling my fingers in his hair. It was surprisingly soft. 

“This feels nice,” Kai sighed. 

I groaned, “Okay. Moment ruined.” I pulled away, stepping back a good few feet. 

“You hugged me first,” he shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Alright, so when do you want to get started?” I asked. 

“After dinner,” he answered. “But it’s 2 pm,” I said. 

“I know. But how about you and me have dinner together,” Kai explained. 

“I thought you hated me?” I asked. “Oh, I do. I definitely do. That’s why I want to have dinner with you. I know just how to push your buttons. You’re so cute when mad,” he grinned. 

I growled at him. “And you are so annoying.” “See! So cute,” Kai scrunched his nose. 

“I bet it’ll be cute when I give you a black eye,” I muttered.

“It'd like to see you try. Anyways, if you want my help, then you’ll come to dinner with me,” Kai shrugged. 

I sighed, “Fine. What time? What do I need to cook?” 

“7 PM. And nope, I’ll cook.”

“O-Oh, really? You cook?” 

“Yep,” he grinned proudly. 

“Hm… Well, good to know. Anyways, I’ll be here at 7,” I said, making my way towards the door. 

“Make sure to dress up! This is gonna be fancy!” Kai called out. 

“Noted!” I exclaimed, stepping out of the house. I shut the door behind me, exhaling heavily. “Now you got a date with the town’s psycho, Y/n. Good going.” 

I strutted over to the car, getting in and driving back to my place. I read a few books to pass the time until I had to get ready. I got done with Twilight: Eclipse, as I actually had already started that the other day, and I went ahead and started to read more into Bonnie’s grams’s grimoire.

It was all so fascinating, really. I was so amazed by just the spells themselves, I didn’t even consider the history of all of them. While reading the grimoire, I started to feel a little jealous of the fact that Bonnie’s a witch, and the fact that I’m a human with a ring that keeps me alive whenever I got killed. I almost started to feel jealous of Damon and Tyler, but I knew that I never would want to be a monster. Being a witch would seem nice, though. Not like Kai, though. 

After a little heavy reading, I checked the clock. It was 5:49, which meant that I had to start getting ready. I put a bookmark in place in the grimoire and got up off the couch, heading up the stairs. I turned on the shower and got undressed. 

I took off my sweatpants and socks, followed by my shirt. As I reached for my shirt overhead, the front of it brushed my nose. An unfamiliar, but calming scent  filled my nose. I slipped the rest of the shirt off, turning it back right side out and held it up to my nose. I closed my eyes and breathed the scent in. It smelled like mint, paper of old books, and a little like grape jam. As soon as the grape jam smell came to me, I immediately knew who this scent belonged to. 

“Ew!” I shrieked and threw the shirt across the room. It landed in the laundry basket, luckily enough. I let out a gagging noise, taking off my underwear and getting in the shower quickly. 

I took my time washing up. Taking a shower seemed to be the only place I could really let go and bask in the quiet and loneliness that was in this house. It was strange because it was always quiet and lonely in this house. This was my only time to truly relax since I was doing everything to keep my busy during the day, so I wouldn’t start crying and throwing a fit about still being here. 

I lathered my body with shampoo, giving myself a little massage on my shoulders. I closed my eyes and started to imagine what life would be like if I wasn’t stuck in 1994. 

I would be with my friends, obviously. We would be at Whitmore, trying to live a normal life. Caroline, Elena, Bonnie and I would be having a picnic on campus. Sipping iced teas and eating sometime of desert. Damon would probably be with us, considering that Elena can’t be without Damon for more than 10 minutes without dying - literally. Stefan would most definitely be there. He’s my best friend, so of course he would be there. He would be talking to Caroline, though, her hogging all of his attention because she likes him (though she always denied it). And maybe Jeremy would be there, too, for Bonnie. Holding her hand and cuddling up next to her like the cute couple they are. And me? Well, I didn’t really have anybody special in my life. I actually had a thing with Kol Mikaelson before he died. I liked Tyler briefly in high school, but I’m 100% sure he’s into the girl that works at the coffee shop at Whitmore. Matt wasn’t my type at all. Neither was Enzo. Maybe I had a cute boy a Whitmore on my arm. A classmate that I had invited to the picnic. Someone cute, smart, funny… a little crazy. Maybe… Maybe Kai.  

My eyes snapped open as I became aware that Kai was now in my fantasy. I couldn’t help but shudder, even with the hot water running on my skin. I washed the rest of my body, focusing on anything else but Kai. I turned off the water, wrapping a towel around me. I dried my skin off as I walked to the sink, putting on lotion and re-brushing my teeth. I stepped back into my bedroom and put on a nude-coloured underwear set. It was simple and very, very comfortable. I then went over to my closet, looking for an outfit to wear. I shuffled through all my shirts, not being able to find one that I liked. I sighed in slight frustration, stepping back to try and see if anything stuck out to me. 

A little, annoying voice - that sounded much like my mother’s - sounded in the back of my head. 

Maybe you can’t decide on an outfit because you like him and want to look nice for him.

I scoffed loudly, shaking my head. “No. I definitely do not care. That’s why I’m just gong to wear this.” I reached into my closet and pulled out a simple dark-turquoise dress. It was spaghetti-strapped and plunged a little bit at the neckline. It reached down just above my knees. Perfect for dinner with an… associate. 

I slipped it on and back to the bathroom and did my hair, putting it in one of my favourite hairstyles. I then got out some makeup products. I put on a light coat of foundation and concealer, curling my eyelashes and brushing them up with mascara. I then shaped my eyebrows and filled in the sparce parts, dusting on some blush and putting on chapstick. I looked in the mirror, stepping back to look at my appearance. I cringed as it looked like I was going on a date. I shook those thoughts out of my head. I wasn’t dressing up for him, I was dressing up for myself. There’s no shame in wanting to look nice for yourself. 

I went back into the bedroom and found a pair of black heels. I slipped them on, going over to the dresser and putting on a few gold bracelets and a pair of earrings. I re-adjusted my necklace that I was already wearing. I looked at my reflection and smiled. For once, I felt and looked good. I grabbed a black jacket and walked out of my room, checking the time once again. I had 10 minutes to get his house, which was perfect. 

I went out of the house and to the Chevy, driving to Kai’s house. I parked in the driveway, my heart beginning to race. I let out a few deep breaths and go out of the car. As soon as I was about to knock, the door swung wide open.

The door revealed Kai who was wearing a white button-up shirt and dark-blue slacks. He actually looked… nice, for once. My eyes traveled around his chest. I couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps strained against his shirt. I could literally see his abs through the shirt, too. It did not help butterflies that were starting to flutter in my stomach. 

“Like what you see?” He smirked. 

My eyes flew up to his face, taking a deep breath to calm myself down from all the excitement I was feeling.

“No,” I said flatly, going into the house and brushing past Kai. 

“Well, you look nice,” he said as I walked into his kitchen. 

“Thanks. You do, too,” I complimented genuinely. 

“I’ve never seen you in a dress before. You should wear them more often.”

“I don’t like dresses.”

“But you like me. That’s why you wore one to our date?” 

I balled my hands in fists, turning around to face him. “One, this is not a date. And two, girls can wear dresses for themselves, not for men like you.”

Kai grinned widely at me. I realised I had fallen into his trap. He was trying to push my buttons and so far, he's been successful. I couldn't let him win, though. I had to calm down and get through this night. Otherwise I would probably never be getting out. 

“Your temper is almost as bad as Damon’s,” Kai remarked. 

I sighed, “Well you’re not making it easy to stay calm.”

“I know,” he chuckled, walking past me and to the dinner table. “I hope you like ravioli and mushrooms.”

“Did you make these or buy them?” I asked, walking towards the kitchen table. 

“Made them. The Salvatores have lots of cook books. I might have stole them before you came,” he explained. 

"Well, it smells great,” I admitted, beginning to take off my jacket.

“Glad you think so. Here, let me get this for you,” he slid over to me and took the jacket off my shoulders. He folded it and put it on the ledge of his couch. 

“Thanks,” I said. He then pulled my chair out for me. I sat down, thanking him this time with a smile. 

“Wine?” He asked, bringing a bottle over. “Yeah, sure,” I nodded. 

He poured two glasses and placed one in front of me. He sat down and took a knife and fork. 

“Dig in,” he offered. “This isn’t filled with like, cyanide, right?” I asked half-jokingly. 

“Ha-ha. No. I worked really hard on these,” he said. 

“Hm,” I hummed. I cut one of the raviolis in half and popped on in my mouth. My eyes widened as it tasted a lot better than I expected. 

“Good, right?” Kai smiled. 

“Very,” I nodded once I swallowed. 

We ate in silence for a few moments. I was itching to talk to him about getting home. I took a long sip of wine before beginning to take. 

“So um…. I’ve started to re-build the ascendent. It’s a lot harder than it looks, but I’m really close. I just have-”

“No,” Kai said suddenly. I furrowed my brows, “What?” “No, we aren’t going to talk about that just yet. I want to get to know you,” he explained. 

I rolled my eyes. “Why? All you need to know is my name and that I hate living here.”

He chuckled, “Not true. I have trust issues. So before I get involved with you, I need to know I can trust you. See, I didn’t trust Damon or Bonnie. I knew that they hated me from the second they met me. I knew that no matter what I would do, they would never give in to trusting me. You, however, you are so trusting. Didn’t you find it creepy that I, a strange man whom you met in a parking lot, offered you a ride?”

“Oh. I-I mean, I guess? But I needed a ride, anyways,” I said. 

He shook his head with a smile. “No. Not a good enough reason. Any reasonable woman would have run away from me. You, though… You saw something good in me, didn’t you? You thought I was nice and cute. Maybe a little too forthcoming, but still you put some trust in me. And if you can trust me, maybe I can learn to trust you.”

“Is that why you didn’t let me go with them?” I asked, suddenly connecting the dots. 

“Part of the reason. I knew that I had no chance of getting home with Damon and Bonnie. But with you, I knew that I had a chance. Even though you are just a human.” “I am more than that,” I argued. 

“And I’m sure you are! But you see, I don’t know that for sure because I don’t know anything about you. See what I’m getting at here?” “Yeah, I see,” I grumbled. “Great! So let’s start with the first question. Why do you always wear that necklace?” He pointed to my neck. 

“It was a gift,” I explained shortly, hoping he would notice the edge in my voice. 

“From who?” He asked, the corners of his lips upturning in a smirk. 

Of course he noticed. He just wasn’t going to stop. 

“Family member.” “C’mon, you gotta give me more. I can’t help you if I don't trust you.” I slammed my fork down on the table. “So? There’s a lot of people in the world that you don’t trust fully, but sometimes you just have to help them! Like in school, you may not trust one of your classmates personally, but if they ask you for help on a math problem, you would help them, right? And plus, I don’t trust you. I never did, for the record. I just really want to get out of this place, which now I am believing is my personal hell, not your’s, but I can’t do that without you!” 

Kai took a bite of his ravioli, taking his sweet time to chew and swallow. I clenched my knife, tempted to throw it into his carotid. 

“Watch your temper, princess. If you keep yelling at me, then I definitely won’t help you.” I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly, trying to calm myself down. “Fine. Sorry. I just don’t want to answer the questions about my necklace.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why I’m asking,” he grinned. 

I rolled my eyes, settling back in my seat. “Please, don’t. It’s really personal.”

“You know, I killed my family. It can’t get any worse than that,” he shrugged. 

“Yeah, well, this is worse to me,” I muttered. “What? Did you kill your whole family, too? Man, I didn’t know we were so similar,” he chuckled. 

“No. They got murdered right in front of me,” I whispered out. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes. I lowered my gaze to my almost-empty plate. Thick, uncomfortable silence filled the room. I tried to fight the tears that threatened to fall, but as memories came back, I could no longer hold them off. 

“I-I’m gonna go. Thanks for dinner, Kai.” My voice was hoarse as I spoke. I swallowed hardly, trying to clear my throat, but it felt like shards of glass were rubbing the sides of it. 

I went to grab my jacket and wrapped it around me, reaching out for the doorknob, but Kai pulled me back. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist gently, but firmly. He tugged me back slightly, enough for me to turn around and look him in the eyes. The expression on his face was something that I had never seen on him before. He looked regretful, guilty; full of remorse. For once I didn’t feel annoyed or scared of him. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he spoke softly, his blue eyes boring into my e/c eyes. 

“I-It’s alright. It’s not your fault,” I sniffled. “No… I-I should have known this was too personal for you to want to share,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to push my buttons,” I chuckled. 

“I do. I admit that. But I really do want to get to know you.” I narrowed eyes at him, crossing my arms around my chest and leaning back in my chair. “Why?” 

“Because I… I think you’re interesting. When I was watching you and your friends, I was able to discover things. Things about Bonnie and Damon. But you… I couldn’t figure out a thing about you. You talk a lot to Damon, and I know you’re really close with Bonnie, but you’re still so private. I’m such an open person, so it was weird for me to see you be so closed-off, but outgoing at the same time,” he explained, his cheeks glowing pink as soon as he finished. 

I couldn’t believe what I had heard him say. He was finally saying nice things about me in a sincere tone. I couldn’t help but smile and softened up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged sheepishly. “Hm,” I buzzed. 

“So, will you stay and we can get to know each other? I promise I won’t ask you about your family anymore,” he said. 

I stared at him intensely. As much as I wanted to say no, every fiber in my body was screaming yes. 

“Alright, sure. I’ll stay,” I nodded. I knew that if I said no, he probably wouldn't help me get back home, but I was actually looking forward to staying. It seemed as though my feelings for him were developing a lot quicker and stronger than I thought they ever would. 

A bright smile lit up his face immediately. “Great! Do you want to continue eating? I have some ice cream, too, if you want.”

“Ice cream sounds good,” I answered. He nodded and let go of my wrist, walking to his freezer. 

I felt alone and cold all of the sudden. I felt myself start to miss his hand on me, holding my arm. His skin was so warm and surprisingly soft. I wanted him to touch me all over. 

“Take a seat on the couch.” His voice broke me out of my dirty thoughts. 

I shrugged away the thoughts and made my way to the sofa, taking a seat and making myself comfortable. 

“Do you want a blanket of anything?” He asked, setting down two bowls. 

“I’m good for now, thanks,” I said, reaching her to grab a bowl. “F/f?” I asked. 

“Yeah. This one of the few things I found out about you,” he smiled sheepishly, taking his bowl and sitting down next to you. 

“Indeed I do. I assume you do, too?” I guessed. “Yep,” he nodded.  “Hm. So, what do you want to know about me?” I asked. 

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“F/c.” “Do you have any pets back at home?” He asked.

“I had a cat a few years ago. She died, though.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “It's alright. She was 20, so she was bound to die soon,” I shrugged. 

He nodded. “What’s life like back at home?”

I took a bite of ice cream, thinking for a few moments. “Fun. Busy, but really happy and colourful.”

“Are you in college?” He asked. “Yeah. Second year,” I answered.  “What’re you studying?” 

“I’m majoring in human studies and minoring in art and design.” “Sounds fun.” 

“It is. And a little stressful,” I chuckled. He laughed with me, looking away from me for a moment and then looking back. 

“Do you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, back at home?” He asked. 

“Nope. I’ve been single for a good couple years,” I said. 

“You? Single? I find that hard to believe,” he snorted. “Why?” I asked, my heart fluttering just thinking about his answer. 

Kai smiled softly at me. “Well, for starters, you’re beautiful. You’re strong and confident. You know what you want and have no issue in fighting for it. You’re a little hot-headed, but I find it attractive. You’re very smart; I see you reading almost everyday. You’re determined and dream big. I can tell you really care about your friends and family, despite how much you and Damon bickered. You’re like a girl in a novel or movie that other girls want to be.”

My whole face went warm at his explanation. My lips were upturned into the most cheek-aching smile, too. 

“And you said it was hard to find things out about me,” I giggled, nudging his foot with mine. 

“Well, I couldn’t find out personal things about you. That's all just from observation,” he shrugged, not seeming to be embarrassed. 

I nodded, “Well, now you know a few personal things about me.”

“That I do.” “I…. I thought you liked Bonnie, too,” I spoke my thoughts out loud. 

 “She’s beautiful, too. She’s also incredibly smart and intuitive. She’s very strong and nice. But you’re the one that really caught my eye.”

“Oh,” I smiled impossibly wider. “Well, good to know.” “Yep,” he popped the ‘p’. I couldn't help but notice how his gaze dropped down to my upper chest, where my necklace sat. 

“They died one and a half years ago,” I started. 

His eyes flew up to mine. “You don’t have to-”

“No, no. It’s alright. Um… so it was at night. Everyone else was at the house, but I had snuck out to go to a party hosted by Caroline. At this time, I was involved with a vampire named Kol. He convinced me to go out. I knew it was wrong and I was going to get in trouble. I was what some would call a goody-two shoes. Anyways, I stayed out until like, 2 in the morning. I was getting tipsy and tired. So, Stefan, Damon’s brother, drove me home. When I first arrived at my house, it looked completely normal. It was quiet and peaceful. It wasn’t until I walked into my house when I knew something was wrong. There were lights on upstairs. It felt so tense, too. I could literally feel how tense and thick the air was.” I stared down at my ice cream for multiple minutes, blinking rapidly as tears fell. 

“I went upstairs and that’s when I saw him. He was tall and wearing a ski-mask, like he was trying to rob us. I guess he had other things he wanted to do, too. He didn’t see me at first, though. It wasn’t until he shot my dad when I started to cry and that’s when he noticed me. I ran away though and into my sibling’s room. I saw that they were still were asleep and safe. So I did the first thing I thought was sensible. I called Stefan. I explained to him that someone had murdered my dad. And as I called him, I heard my mom scream,” I shuddered as her scream ringed in my ears. 

“That’s when I heard the door being kicked open downstairs and I knew that Stefan was there. He had brought Caroline and Damon, too, with Bonnie. They were all here to help and I was so appreciative of them. I thought they were going to kill the guy, which was honestly what I wanted. But apparently, the murderer was a vampire. An old one, too, which meant he was stronger than everyone. My friends put up a good fight and I tried to get Andrew and Jenny out of the house, but as soon as we were going down the stairs, the murderer sped up to us and snapped both of their necks. I-It all happened so fast. I….I just couldn't register what was happening. They both just fell limp in my arms. I didn’t know what to do but cry. I was practically screaming while crying, cursing at the murderer. I tried to fight him, but I was so tired and weak, he almost ended up killing me, but luckily Stefan got to him the fastest and ripped his heart out. He fell right on top of me, too. I will never forgetting the weight I was feeling just then. Metaphorical and physical. I pushed him off of me and collapsed into Stefan’s arms. He held me for what seemed like forever until I stopped crying.”

I felt Kai move closer to me, putting a comforting hand on my hand. I smiled softly at him, letting out a deep breath as I was about to finish the story. 

“I didn’t come to school for four months after that. I didn’t even come out of my room during that time. My friends took turns everyday taking care of me. Stefan was on cooking duty, Caroline, Elena, and Bonnie switched roles of helping me bathe, getting me to eat, trying to get me to take a step out of bed. Damon and Jeremy provided the jokes and funny stories to try and get me to feel better. Alaric, who was acting like Elena and Jeremy’s parent, adopted me into their family. He said it was Elena and Jeremy’s idea and he agreed fully. After my grieving period, I moved in with the Gilberts. Elena and Jeremy called me their sister and I fell into that role. It was nice to have a family again. It was nice to have siblings again. To have a parent again. I knew it wasn’t real, though. Jeremy and Elena acted like it was real, though. They were so welcoming of having me as a sister, it was just so good. Once I went to college, though, I tried to get a little more independent. Bonnie was gone, actually, so all I had was Caroline and Elena. But we made it work. I’m so thankful for all of them. They really helped me and never gave up on me. Even when I threw fits about getting out of bed,” I smiled at the memories of them helping me. 

“Anyways,” I shifted on the couch. “The summer before college, I ended up cremating my family and spreading them across the Pacific Ocean, thanks to Damon who gladly took me on a trip.”

“Wow,” Kai breathed out. “I know,” I chuckled.

“You have really great friends. I’m sorry that all happened to you,” he said. “I-I can’t imagine what you went through. And what you’re still going through.” “Yeah, well, I’m the survivor here. You’re an actual murderer,” I smirked. 

He laughed, “True. You know, if you know that I’m a murderer, then why do you agree to spend time with me?”

I sighed and set the empty bowl of ice cream on the table. “Well, you’re right. I am trusting. I see the good in people and I see the good in you. When I was about to walk out the door, I saw the good in you. I see the good in you now. You can be good, Kai. I know it’s hard considering what you have been through, but you are just as much as a survivor as I am.” I intertwined our fingers and put my other hand on his forearm. 

“You were abused as a child. You were punished for being different. And although that doesn’t excuse you killing your siblings, you still deserve love. I don’t know how being in a coven works, but I do know how being in a family works. You’re supposed to love each other and your father didn’t give you that love. Sure, you’re a little… eccentric at times, but you still have feelings like everyone else. I know Damon and Bonnie called you a sociopath, and I know I did, too, but now that I’ve seen this side of you, I know you’re different. You should be able to resent your father for being blamed for being a siphoner. Which, by the way, I think it really cool, honestly. I-I’m sorry for yelling at you and getting really mad all those times,” I apologised, looking at him in the eyes to know I was sincere. 

He shrugged with a smile, “Well I didn’t make it easy on you.”

I laughed, “No, you did not. Anyways… You are a survivor Kai. A survivor of your family and this world. You deserve a lot more than you think.”

“Thank you. I guess that’s true,” he said. 

I smiled and leaned into him, “I know it’s true.”

He smiled at me, his hand tightening around mine. My eyes trailed down to his lips, ogling them for a good few moments. 

“Does the necklace has pictures of them?” Kai asked. 

I leaned away immediately, my hand slipping out of his. “Yeah, do you want to see them?” 

He nodded, moving closer to me so our thighs were touching. I took off the necklace, opening it up and showing him the left side where my parent’s picture sat. 

“That’s my dad, Owen, and that’s my mom, Louisa,” I pointed. 

“You look just like your mom,” Kai muttered. 

I looked to my right, seeing that he was staring right at me. I blushed a little, looking down shyly. “Yeah. We got our genes from our mom.”

“Are they Andrew and Jenny?” He pointed to the right side of the locket. 

“Yep. Andrew is 10 and Jenny is 13,” I said. 

“They look like good kids,” he commented. “They were. I often wish that it was me who died instead of them,” I murmured. 

“Why?” 

“Because I was the one who snuck out that night. Plus, my mom and I were having some relationship issues. She was always so irritated with me and criticizing everything I did. The last thing I said to her that night was “I hate you. I wish I had a different mom.”,” My lips were pulled down in a deep frown. 

“Well, you didn’t mean that, right?” Kai guessed. 

“I didn’t,” I shook my head. “Well, that’s all that matters,” he said. 

I nodded and looked up at him. 

“You have a little… Here,” he said and lifted up his hand. He cupped my cheek, his thumb running across my cheekbone, wiping a few tears away. 

My breath hitched as I felt myself leaning towards him. There was like this magnetic pull that I was feeling. I knew I couldn’t fight it if I tried. His eyes met mine, staring intensely at me. My eyes flickered down to his lips. They looked so soft. So pink. So unbelievably kissable. I was about to close the space in-between us when Kai stopped me.

He put his hand on my shoulder, pushing me back. 

“What? Did I read the situation wrong? I’m so sorry,” I rushed out, getting up from the couch. 

Kai’s hand grabbed my forearm roughly, pulling me back down on the couch. 

“No, it’s not that. You read the situation totally right it's just that… I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he admitted, looking down shyly. 

I smiled softly, reaching my hand out for his. “It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything. It’s late, anyways. I should get going.” I looked at the clock, noticing that it was 9:30. 

“Or you can stay and we can watch a movie?” He suggested. “Sure,” I nodded with a smile. “Can I take my shoes off?” “Yeah, of course. Actually um, do you want a change of clothes?” He asked. 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” I nodded. 

“Sweatpants and t-shirt work for you?” He asked. 

“It definitely does,” I said. “Great. I’ll be right back, go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” he said, getting up from the couch. 

I smiled and nodded, taking my shoes and jacket off. I leaned back on the couch, sighing. I could not believe I was making nice with someone who tried to kill me. Damon was right. My type is crazy.

————

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Part Three is right here!

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@123cxcv​ @mrsobrien888​ @happinessisabutterflyx​ @mrs-parker-1972​

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker imagines #kai parker fluff #kai parker smut #kai parker x reader fluff #kai parker angst #kai parker x reader angst #kai parker x reader smut #chris wood #chris wood imagines

[arvinsescape]

A lover to a stranger

A/N: This one is pure angst! It’s based on a request i recieved!! I won’t be writing a part two because i don’t think that would work! I enjoyed writing this because it’s quite different from what i would normally write and i hope you enjoy!!

Request:  So Tom and the reader have broken up, but the world still thinks they are a couple. Tom have a radio interview, and he gets asked a question about y/n. But he doesn't say anything about them having broken up, only that she is amazing and that he misses her really much. Then after the interview, he goes out of the building like in the video, but when he gets in the car, he starts balling his eyes out, and the pap gets it on video. And the reader both sees the interview and the pap video, and she gets really sad. You choose how it should end

Warnings: Swearing, cheating.

W/C: 3K.

You’d been unaware for months, blissfully unaware, but unaware all the same. It was Harrisons girlfriend that had taken pity on you and decided that enough was enough, someone was going to have to burst your bubble and make you painfully aware.

“Y/N, we need to talk.” She said as she watched you furrow your brows.

“About?” You were so blissfully unaware that Bonnie almost wasn’t sure she could do it.

“Tom.” Bonnie sighed and watched as your brows furrowed deeper in worry.

“What about him?” You bit your lip, you were worried about him. He’d done the worst possible thing to you and you were worried about him. Bonnie’s heart was aching.

“Listen, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, I wish I didn’t.” She sighed. “Tom’s been cheating on you, with Georgia.” She whispered out and she hoped maybe you wouldn’t have heard, maybe she could forget she ever came here and was the one to break your heart. No such luck, you’d heard.

“What? I don’t… I don’t understand.” You stuttered out and Bonnie felt her heart break as she watched you swallow back tears and keep yourself composed.

“I’m so sorry. It started a couple of months ago.” Bonnie felt her own tears.

“Did everyone know?” You asked and it was so quiet and the heartbreak was so evident that Bonnie felt her tears fall, she didn’t want to answer this question.

“I’m so sorry, we found out last month. Y/N I wanted to tell you, I did but he said he was going to and I thought he had but he hadn’t.” Bonnie rambled as she watched you slowly nod as tears made their way down your cheeks. Georgia had been your best friend, Bonnie couldn’t think of anything worse.

You had this look about you that was enough to break anyone’s heart, you realised in this moment that the two people you would rely on the most, run to for any problem were the cause of your pain. You sniffled as you looked at Bonnie and sighed.

“Thank you for telling me, I think. Well thank you for growing a conscience after a month. I think you should go.” You weren’t angry, you were hurt. You had no one left you could seek comfort in. Bonnie nodded.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I wanted to tell you, I really did but I couldn’t, you were so happy and no one wanted to hurt you. I will still be here if you need anything.” Bonnie said with a sad smile as she left and heard as you slammed the door shut.

You broke down, you cried for hours. The pain in your heart was unbearable, your best friend and your boyfriend. How do you come back from that? You knew he’d been staying out a little later or taking longer to do things than he normally would. It was almost like Bonnie’s words had made you realise how blind you’d been. Everyone knew, except you and it hurt that everyone kept that from you. You didn’t think Tom or Georgia would do this to you, they both knew about your past relationships, hell Georgia had comforted you through them.

You felt like you’d been stabbed in the back by every single person you’d put your trust into. You knew this was it, when Tom eventually came home that it was the last time you’d see him before you left the house for good. You’d told him earlier on in the relationship that you were a forgiving person but cheating was something you could never forgive, no matter how hard you tried and you’d tried with past boyfriends, you had but you couldn’t ever see past the betrayal.

You cried and screamed into your pillow as you wrapped yourself in your duvet, you were so heartbroken that you didn’t have it in you to fight tonight and you hoped sleep would take over before Tom came home and you could deal with this tomorrow. But of course the real world was cruel and tended to step on those who were already down. You heard the front door shut and you cried harder, you were going to have to face him and you didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to face him right now, you wanted to sleep and you wanted to deal with the further heartbreak tomorrow, your heart couldn’t take anymore pain right now. Of course he heard you, heard your cries of heartbreak and you wondered for a moment if he knew why but he had no idea, he’d gotten away with it for so long he stopped worrying, probably stopped caring.

You heard as his feet rapidly made their way up the stairs and you wanted to hide, you wanted to curl up into a ball underneath the bed and just hide from the world. You’d given him so much, you’d done everything for him, been as supportive as you could and it wasn’t enough. You weren’t enough and you tried so hard to be.

You heard the bedroom door open and you curled further into yourself, you would allow yourself to show him how much he’d ripped your heart out, you wanted him to see how open and vulnerable this had left you so that tomorrow morning when you confronted him maybe he’d care. Maybe he’d do the one thing he hasn’t for months, maybe he’d care.

“Fuck, sweetheart are you okay?” He sounded worried. He was a good actor though, he’d pretended to love you for months. He made his way around to your side of the bed and crouched down next to you, you stuffed your face further into your pillow as he smoothed out your hair. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” He sounded like he cared but he didn’t, he can’t have cared otherwise he wouldn’t have done this to you.

You couldn’t answer, you just cried harder and you cried because it wasn’t the first time this had happened to you, someone better always came along and no one cared how that left you. How it took a part of you every single time it’d happened. You’d thought Tom was different, of course you did because you were naïve and stupid and too trusting with your heart. Sometimes you wondered if it was your own fault, you willingly handed your heart to these people.

“Baby are you gonna tell me what’s happened?” He asked as he moved so he was behind you on the bed and you shook your head. You hated the fact that he couldn’t put this level of heartbreak down to his actions, did he really pretend to love you and to care for so long. He pulled your back against his chest and tried to soothe you. Every sweet nothing he whispered felt it was killing you in the slowest way possible, it had the opposite effect it usually would.

At some point you fell asleep, he’d asked countless times what had happened and you’d cried until there were no tears left, until exhaustion had completely consumed you and you allowed yourself one last night in his embrace. Of course the little sleep you’d had was horrendous, you still felt tired when you woke the next morning.

You pulled yourself from Tom’s grasp and made your way downstairs as you looked at your phone.

Bonnie: I’m so sorry Y/N. Please let me know you’re okay.

Harrison: Bonnie told me she told you. I’m sorry, I’m here if you need anything.

Georgia: Hey girlie!! Wanna do something today?

The text message from Georgia made your blood boil, she knew what this would do to you and she couldn’t give a fuck. Had she done this before? The thought of her betrayal was the worst one, she was your childhood best friend, she’d been there through everything and now she’d left you alone. You almost screamed in anger as you slammed your phone onto the kitchen counter. You’d deal with her later but right now you needed to think about what to say to Tom.

You were aware you looked like shit, aware that it wasn’t over yet, you’d cried your heart out until it was dry and now you were about to take the final step and rip it in half. The world really was a cruel place, you wanted to think about how you were going to approach Tom but you were robbed of that as well as everything else as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

“Can we talk about last night baby? Are you okay?” Tom said as he eyed you carefully and you felt the anger rise for the second time that morning. How dare he.

“Do not ‘baby’ me. I don’t want to hear another single fucking pet name out of your lying mouth.” You gritted out at him and he looked taken aback, truly taken aback at your anger.

“What’s wrong?” He asked cautiously, you could see the gears turning in his head as the panic rose, he knew you knew. He gulped.

“How’s Georgia? It would appear you’ve been spending far more time with her than I have.” You seethed and he swallowed hard as he looked at you. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look more heartbroken and angry at the same time.

“Y/N, I love you, okay. It was a mistake.” He tried calmy and you flared your nostrils as you felt your anger boil over. It was easier to focus on the anger, the heartache had been too much.

“Bullshit, you don’t fucking love me, let’s get that straight. A mistake? No Tom, a mistake is forgetting to pick up milk not sleep with my best friend.” You shouted and he hung his head.

“Y/N, please. She came onto me and I don’t know it just happened. I don’t love her, I love you.” He suddenly looked at you frantically.

“I don’t really want to hear it Tom. This has happened to me before remember. I’ve heard all of this before. It’s cliché at this point.” You snapped and he felt his tears leave his eyes. The truth was he didn’t love her, he really did love you and she had come onto him. He has no real excuses for what happened, the sneaking around was fun he supposed, maybe he’d not fully thought about what this would do to you. But he could see it now, he saw it last night as his own heart broke watching you break down in a way he’d never witnessed before and he caused it.

“I’m sorry. Please can we talk this through?” He asked as he tried to step closer as you took a step back.

“Talk? There’s nothing to talk about. You cheated on me and I don’t forgive that, there’s nothing to save between us.” You said and you felt the anger wash away as you said the words, this was it. A two and a half year relationship gone with the click of some fingers, the man you loved was now a stranger with the click of some fucking fingers. You felt the tears again and when you looked at Tom he was already crying.

“I’m sorry, I love you though, I really do. She means nothing to me.” Tom said desperately as he watched you make your way towards the door. “Please don’t leave, stay and we can talk this out.” He pleaded and you sniffled as you turned around to look at him.

“Tom. Hearing that she means nothing to you is worse. It confirms the fact that I wasn’t enough, I made you bored, or I didn’t love you with enough of me to make you feel complete and that hurts worse. At least if you were in love with her I’d understand better why you carried on betraying me, but I don’t. You’ve brought all of my insecurities back to life and I can never forgive you for that.” She smiled sadly as you opened the door to leave. “Do what you want with my stuff, I don’t want any of it.”

That was two months ago, you’d not spoken to Georgia, you’d just completely cut her from your life because you couldn’t bring yourself to face her. Tom had rung you non stop and you’d blocked his number, as for the boys and Bonnie, you’d not spoken to them either, they texted you occasionally but you didn’t read them. You’d felt betrayed by everyone and you couldn’t bring yourself to be around them. You were slowly healing yourself, reminding yourself it wasn’t your fault it was his and you were trying not to keep up with Tom at all. The world still thought you were a couple though.

He’d not told everyone about the breakup and you’d removed yourself from social media almost instantly in fear of the hate that would be targeted at you when they found out. It was your brother that had told you the world still thought you were together. You’d been on YouTube when you saw it, it was a video regarding one of Tom’s recent interviews and curiosity got the better of you as you clicked it.

He was doing a radio interview and he’d been asked a question about you, you could hear the waver in his voice as he spoke.

“Y/N is amazing, I miss her so much. Being away from her is something I find incredibly hard, I love her so much you know. It’s hard not being able to see the person you love.” He didn’t say anything about you having broken up. The video then cuts to Tom walking out of the interview, hood pulled up as he tried to avoid the media and as he got into the back of the car he cried, someone had caught it on camera and you could clearly see the tears.

Your heart sank because of course you still loved him and maybe he did still love you but that wasn’t enough, you’d never be able to look at him the same. You’d never be able to forget what he did, your phone buzzed in your hand and you looked at the contact Harry.

Harry hadn’t tried to contact you in the last couple of months and maybe that’s what possessed you to answer the phone when you did.

“Hi Harry, what’s up?” You tried to sound as normal as possible.

“I know it’s a lot to ask and I’m sorry but can you please talk to him? I can’t get him to calm down, I think he needs closure.” Harry said sadly and you sighed but agreed. You heard as Harry approached Tom and you heard a small conversation take place before Tom’s voice filled your ears.

“Y/N?” Tom sniffled and he sounded so heartbroken that your heart ached.

“Hey, Tom.” You whispered and he sobbed.

“Y/N, please can we talk? Please can we work it out? Baby I miss you and I love you. I haven’t seen her, she meant nothing to me. I want you, I love you.” He stuttered out through his tears and you sighed as your own heart broke all over again.

“Tom, I explained to you why her meaning nothing to you hurt more. I love and miss you to, more than you can ever understand but I can’t forgive you for this and that’s why we’ll never work it out. I’ll never be able to look at you the same no matter how hard I try. I won’t be able to trust you and you’ll suffer for that. We both need to move on. Tom you need to move on, this isn’t healthy, the world still thinks we’re together and we’re not. Tom, we are over and there’s no going back.” You were crying now as you sniffled and continued.

“I need you to do something for me Tom.”

“Anything, it’s yours, anything.” He rambled out and your heart shattered.

“I need you to move on. I need you to tell the world the truth so that you can move forward.” You said and you heard him sob louder.

“Can we at least still be friends? Can we at least see each other?” He asked and you sighed again.

“Tom, that’s not a good idea and you know it. I can’t be your friend Tom and I think deep down you understand that. Nothing is going to change what happened and what that did to me okay. You’ll always have a piece of my heart but I’m running out of pieces to give. You need to move on, I need to move on. Tom, this is the last time you’ll ever hear from me, okay. Just promise me you’ll move on.” You said and you heard him quieten his sobs to sniffles.

“I promise.” He sniffled.

“Goodbye Tom.” You said sadly.

“Goodbye Y/N.” He sobbed and you put the phone down. Your heart was aching thinking about the pain he was in but you couldn’t stop the thoughts consuming you as you remembered that he’d done the same to you months ago and that was the problem. You could never forgive him because you would always treat him as if you didn’t trust him and didn’t trust his motives and that wasn’t healthy for either of you. Tom Holland had gone from being your lover to a stranger with the snap of some fucking fingers.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n

[spencerscoven]

— sad girl

about ; Spencer wants you more than anything, but he already has someone waiting at home for him.

gif by saramichellesgellar

CONTENT WARNING: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), slight choking, fingering, semi public intercourse, unprotected sex, cheating, brief mentions of violence, slight angst

a/n : came out of the fic closet for this <3 any request, concepts, or if you would like to be in a tag list, send your request to my inbox !! and enjoy

Being a mistress on the side, it might not appeal to fools like you...

What you could never tell a soul was that it started months before, weeks before he had ever first officially laid his hands on you. The lingering eyes, antsy hands, the words that had meant something else that went unsaid. They had implied the words that Spencer would never say out loud, in fear of the guilt that lined his stomach: I want you. But I have her.

Creeping around on the side, would not be something you would do...

JJ kissed him on the cheek, hands softly massaging the knots of his shoulders while she whispered the words that announced, "something came up..." and with that, she left Spencer with the taste of desire on his lips as his eyes gaped towards your direction. He watched you like he always did when he got a chance, seeing how the tips of your fingers ran across the edge of your cubical, your legs cross and eyebrows furrowed in thought. He knew what you were reading— only because his eyes glazed over the same file. The unsub was a 43 year old man with the signature of engraving x's into his victim's chests. And he wondered, thought hard, if you could focus on the case while you wore a skirt that tight.

"JJ's gone? Hotch just left, looks like it's just you and me. Now, what do you think of this?"

You inquired, shocking Spencer into looking up to see you standing beside him, the steps you took to get there unknown to him at the time they had happened. He pinched his thigh through his slacks. Get a grip.

You slid into his cubical next to him, stacking "The Narrative Of John Smith" in the next corner, along with his other books that were too advanced for you to even begin to understand, so you could sit your hips on his desk and place the annotated file next to him.

"So, I've found that Avery Pincher was abandoned by his mother at eight. She found another life elsewhere, and he didn't fit into the picture... you get the gist of it all," You looked up and smiled sheepishly, flattening out the top of your skirt which allowed Spencer's eyes to heed recognition of the smooth goosebumps laid on your thighs. He wanted skin to skin, mouth to mouth.

But you haven't seen my man... you haven't seen my man.

"Cold?" He questioned, sight trailing up your torso, only to see that your eyes already met his.

He could keep this up like he had for months, he could act like he couldn't cut though the tension between them. He could imagine that Morgan didn't squint his eyes at him every time he said your name in the conference room. He could set his hopes on thinking he had enough strength to go home and meet JJ, make love to her instead of fantasizing about fucking you. It was part of his job, bending people to his decree and staying in control. But he just didn't have the will when it came to you.

"Cold? No Reid— So I studied the letters his mother sent him after she left, all of them signed with an X, for kisses, as she signed them off. She thought it was endearing, he didn't seem to like it... hence his signature and the victims looking like her—"

"Then why do you have goosebumps?" He announced, rather than asked, as his long fingers wrapped around the top of your knee. He felt you take in a sharp breath before he heard it.

He's got the fire, and he walks with flames...

"Think about what you're doing, Reid. You think I haven’t caught onto these little things? Because I have,” Your words were spoken with quiet vexation even though you leaned towards his chest, but most importantly they told him that you knew. Your eyes were criminal, finally revealing your awareness of the depraved cat and mouse game that kept up between the two of you.

You'd seen the way he watched you. You'd felt his eyes down your blouse, his fingers that ghosted too long on your waist as he opened the door for you in the mornings. You’d spent nights thinking, rationalizing that Spencer was brilliant, and surely knew what was good for himself. You fought so hard, only to land on the realization he was just a man. A man with an insufferable craving in the pit of his stomache.

"I can feel your pulse. I have thought about this. Day in, day out. You don't think I've seen you looking too?" He stood, hands dragging further up your legs, to your waist, under your skirt, your hipbone, the insides of your thighs to feel your heat. He couldn't stop the soft smile forming on his lips when you sighed.

"Here you are, ass on my desk, pussy right in front of me, and you're telling me you didn't know this was bound to happen?”

His Bonnie on the side, his Bonnie on the side...

His lips mashed into yours, wasting no time, both your breaths hitching as teeth clashed and he fought to destroy you, to drown you in dizziness and lust. Finally, finally, finally, skin to skin, mouth to mouth. With his hands wrapped around your neck, nails digging in and stifling the moans threatening to uprise in your throat as he held you back from his lips, allowing you to gaze up drunkenly as your head lulled back and forth.

"I've barely touched you." You could hear the smirk in his voice, sticking your tongue out as he slowly pulled at your wet panties, your black skirt already bunched up your waist.

"This is what you want?" He mockingly laughed, gathering his saliva and spitting upon your tongue, serving his passion with hostility.

Obediently, you swallowed, thrusting your lower half into his own abdomen before your lips connected again, good sense and respect thrown out the window as you two forgot completely about the world outside, allowing each other to envelop each whole.

"You've been waiting to do this forever, I can taste it on my lips... so go ahead and ruin me." You murmured softly, as if the building was full and it was only meant for him to hear, but roughy in nature, your hands reaching for his cock that was already hard and showcasing a tent in his pants. Spencer slapped them away, placing your hands back on the edge of the desk as he situated himself in the leather chair of his office, pulling your pussy closer to his face.

"Spencer—"

"I think about you a little more than I should. I think about this," He hungrily ran his middle finger down your vagina, spreading your wetness from your hole to your clit, basking in the way it glimmered off the insides of your thighs before placing the tip of his finger between his lips, a selfish act. "well, I think about this a lot."

You reach your hands down to cup his cheeks in silent approval, his pupils dilated while he begins to pump just his middle finger in and out at a steady pace, your hips thrusting up to meet his just seconds before his tongue pounces. At first he doesn't hear your noises— too focused on your taste and allure as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, adding another finger. Above him, you grasp the short cubical wall, holding on as if you'd fall into endless abyss without it, making animalistic noises that make Spencer think he could die right there and here, his face and fingers buried in your cunt. He's a man of science, yet he thinks he's seen God.

He witnesses you grab his head of hair, pushing him up against you and grinding up and down as if you couldn't get enough, shouting his name, and spouting your release on his lips. You twitch, riding out your high with his face planted between your legs and your soul located on another planet.

You look down to witness Spencer cleaning you off with his tongue, his mouth swallowing your wetness that had spread to your thighs, his hips under a spell, causing them to thrust into the empty space, allowing you to realize in that moment that he hadn't even noticed he was doing it, either. You grab him by the top of his sweater bringing his face to your level with a simple request,

"Fuck me, Spencer?"

He smiles gleefully, reaching down to unbuckle his trousers that already spotted precum on the front of them, a moan rising lowly in his throat.

"I need to get this dick inside of you before I cum." He pumps himself a few times, before pushing into your cunt, hand rising to hold your legs back, unable to keep the strident moan from coming out of his throat, your fingernails drilling into his hips, waist, mouth, neck, anything you could grasp.

He's got the fire and he walks with flames...

One after the other, his hips snap to yours quickly, meeting in a smack as his thumb connects between the both of you in circles to rub, coaxing your second orgasm out.

He's got the fire and he talks with flames...

You both moan out, cumming over one another, producing what Spencer would call "the perfect melody", if there had ever been one.

He kisses you one last time, and this time's different. It feels like longing, and you can't be too sure as you draw back to look at him and he stares blankly across the room, breath heavy. You watch as he bends to look through his desk, pulling out a tissue and wiping his cum from your core softly, eyes focused on anything but your face before he's shoving it into his pocket to dispose of outside the office.

What shocks you most is when he takes your peach panties that were once discarded on the floor and tucks them into his desk, under files, for safe keeping. But Spencer still won't meet your eyes.

You hoist your hips up, sliding off the surface of the wooden desk to spread out your skirt, now wrinkled, and to sweep your hair out of your face, that to your surprise, he does himself to catch your attention.

"Look, I just..." He begins, and you bite your lip, the realization of what you've done setting in.

In the back of your mind, you know what makes you actually feel bad. It’s the fact that you don't feel much remorse, if at all, and it causes the high tides of your mind to drown, shame swallowing you from the inside out. The lingering touches, the stares— the everything, they happened before Spencer and JJ. You reminisce, afraid to blink, scared that you’d see the memories of Spencer telling you about her would come flashing behind your eyelids, replaying like they always did at night.

Before he was JJ's, he was yours. Part of you begged to say he still was, even though you watched who he walked into the office with each day when they exited the same car, hand in hand. You tilted your head, as if to encourage him to go on, to finish telling you he regretted it, even if his eyes showed the opposite. There was not a single chance in the world that he could utter what he really wanted to, not after he had been pining after her for years. Not one of you were stupid enough to do that and you knew it.

His Bonnie on the side, his Bonnie on the side, makes me a sad, sad girl...

"I just wanted to tell you that I know we shouldn't have done this but—"

He glances down as the phone in his left pocket begins to ring, and before he even pulls it out, both of you are eerily aware of exactly who it is, the ironical energy of it all lingers in the air as Spencer gives you a sad look, picking up the phone.

"Hello? Oh— no. I was just getting ready to leave. Just finishing up the night." He looks right at you, contemplating, before cleaning off the rest of your wetness on his chin with the sleeve of his jumper. He’s just fucked you silly, only to go home to her.

You find yourself shoving your heels on and collecting your things off your desk across the room, his eyes following you and doing the same.

I'm a sad girl, I'm a sad girl, I'm a sad girl...

Spencer walks beside you to the doors of the BAU, knowing that hours from now, in the morning, you’d both come to work. You'd act like it never happened, avoid and ignore each other, until wondering hands wondered again. Until then, Spencer would deny himself of the woman he spent his time thinking about. He’d act as if he didn't need you.

He placed his hand on your lower back as he opened the doors ahead of you, slinging his messenger bag strap higher up his shoulders, and let his fingers dawdle there for just a second more than needed, the signal not unbeknownst to you. With just the two of you here, he loiters on the idea that that cannot ever be, you and him. And on his lips he tastes spite, mixed with wishful thinking.

I'm a sad girl, I'm a sad girl, I'm a mad girl.

part 2

masterlist

#spencerscoven #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #angst #bau #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfic #requests #bau fanfic

[alinastracker]

hello my dear bonnie, if you're still taking prompts, can i suggest #47 👀 ?

LOVE THIS PROMPT!!! here you go my love<3

prompt: you’re casually seeing my roommate and think they’re in the shower when you strip down to join me and we end up screaming and my roommate thinks it’s the funniest thing and tries to set us up on a date

yikes at this going from a quick lil ficlet to 6.7k oof

would it be okay if i came home to you (explicit) (ao3)

Alina steps into the shower, wondering how the hell she ended up rooming with Zoya to begin with.

Don't get her wrong, she loves Zoya. But her raven-haired friend can be difficult, and she was supposed to have buffer. Originally, it was going to be her, Zoya, and Genya living together, until Genya backed out last minute to move in with her boyfriend David instead.

"I'm so sorry, but it just makes sense," Genya said to them over lunch one afternoon. "Besides, if things go how I think they will, you two will be on the same path that I'm on soon enough."

Zoya scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alina had the same question, considering both of them were hopelessly single.

Genya just sipped her tea and said in a sing-song voice, "You'll see."

At first, living with Zoya was fine. They agreed easily on most apartment related things; splitting up chores, rules about not touching each other's food, a timely heads up before having friends or potential sexual partners over. Zoya could get nit picky about a few things, like the lecture she'd given her on the proper position of the toilet paper roll. It goes over, Starkov, understand? Under is for heathens and natural selection is coming for them. But otherwise, things had been fine.

Until Mal.

He was a part of the friend circle she had surrounded herself with since freshman year. But there was something about Mal that had drawn her to him in a way that was different from the rest of the group — different from anyone else she had ever met. He was like a drug, a magnet, the missing link that had her saying, where have you been my whole life, when you're meant to be here beside me? So quickly he had become her closet friend, and as much as their group liked to tease them, they both denied feeling anything beyond fierce friendship.

But Alina was such a liar.

Which makes it her own fault, really, for ending up in this situation. Zoya could, quite frankly, be a bitch — but she wouldn't have gone after Mal if Alina had just owned up to her feelings.

Though she really could have told her about it sooner.

Alina had been studying in the living room one night when a knock at the door startled her. Zoya hadn't mentioned having company, and neither of them had ordered food. Hesitantly, she rose and stood on her tiptoes to peek through the peephole. Then her face lit up, and she swung the door open. "Mal!"

Saints, he looked good. He appeared freshly showered, dressed in a silky green shirt and dark jeans. He had actually put effort into his hair for once, and he had a small gold hoop earring in his left ear.

"Hey, Lina," he said, something a little off with the smile he gave her. As he passed by to come inside, she could smell expensive cologne.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, butterflies in her stomach. Her head was already filling with wild fantasies. He wanted to surprise her, so he showed up without notice. He put effort into how he looked, because he wanted to impress her. He was going to reveal his true feelings for her, and she would revel in the fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Instead, Zoya entered the room and said, "He's here for me."

Mal had the decency to flush and offer a sheepish shrug. "I'm gonna grab some water," he said, and scuttled off to the kitchen. Of course, Mal had been here plenty of times before. He knew where everything was.

Alina had barely heard him though, Zoya's words repeating on a loop in her head. He's here for me. She knew what this meant, even as her mind tried to deny it. The room was spinning and she couldn't quite steady herself, like something had broken inside of her.

She swallowed, and as calmly as possible, said, "What happened to the heads up rule?"

Zoya arched a brow. "I texted you two hours ago."

Alina frowned and pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Zoya. Got a guy coming over in a couple hours. She must have missed it, lost in her studies. But still, something in the text ignited anger in her chest.

"You could have said the guy was Mal."

Zoya shrugged, so frustratingly nonchalant. "What does it matter?"

It matters because I am so hopelessly in love with him, and you're supposed to be my friend, and now I have to blast music so I don't hear the sounds of you two fucking, she thought.

"He's my best friend," she said. "It's just a little weird, I guess."

"Don't worry, Starkov," Zoya said, turning toward the kitchen, probably to grab Mal so they could get the night started. "It won't affect anything between you two."

Alina waited until the two of them were tucked away in Zoya's room. Then she pulled on her old running shoes and slipped out — there was just no way she could be here, knowing what was happening in the room across from her own.

She ran with no destination in mind, pumping her little legs as hard as they could go, music pounding from her headphones. When she became too tired to go further, she checked her surroundings and sighed. Of course, her feet took her to one of her favorite places in the city.

It's not anything, really. A quiet street with an old abandoned building at the end of it. But on the building's brick wall is one of her favorite pieces of art. A mural of the sun, complex in its simplicity, using colors she had never seen used to express the sun before, yet perfectly capturing the feeling of a warm sunny day.

Alina leaned against the wall, slid down until she was sitting on the old, cracked sidewalk. Only then did she realize that she was crying. Turning off her music, she called Genya, and told her everything.

"You have to talk to Zoya," Genya said.

"No!" she said quickly. "I don't want her to feel bad. It's not her fault. And if Mal likes her — well, it's not like he's shown any interest in me. I'm not going to get in their way."

"Alina," Genya sighed.

"It's fine," she promised. "I just—" A sob escaped her throat, the pain overshadowing any coherent thought. It was not fine.

"Send me your location," Genya said, and Alina did.

She spent the night at Genya and David's that night, David promising he was more than okay with taking the couch so her and Genya could have the bed. Which was needed, because Alina had a lot more crying to do.

"Just don't tell Zoya," she said.

"Alina, I don't know."

"Promise, Genya. Please."

Finally, Genya sighed. "All right."

That was four months ago. Zoya had told her it wouldn't affect her close bond with Mal, but it had. Alina never invites Mal over anymore, too afraid that he'll come to watch a movie, sit on the couch beside her — much closer than most friends sit. They would point out everything terrible about it, because they loved to watch bad films together as they stuffed their faces with popcorn. Then the movie would end and Mal would say goodnight, but instead of leaving, he'd go to Zoya's room, and the popcorn they ate would sour in her stomach.

There were so many little changes, too. Like when they hung out as a group, and suddenly Alina was questioning every move she made around him. Was it still okay to playfully ruffle his hair, to sit close enough that their shoulders pressed together, to look at him like he personally hung the sun and the moon in the sky, all while Zoya was there to see? Was it wrong to look at his lips and fantasize about how they would feel against her own, pressed to her collarbone, sucking her most sensitive spots? Zoya and Mal were a casual thing, they had both said so. But still, the natural intimacy her friendship with Mal had built for the past two years suddenly felt wrong, and she hated it.

Needless to say, Alina has been looking into new rooming possibilities for next year. She can't do this anymore. Every time Mal comes over, she waits for them to lock themselves away in Zoya's room, and then she leaves. She runs to her sun, sometimes just sitting and letting her sad song playlist make her sadder, sometimes bringing her sketchbook to at least make art out of the pain.

But tonight she has a very rare opportunity — the apartment to herself. Only for a couple hours, but still. She has spent most of the time so far blaring music, and her neighbors probably hate her, but damn it, they can deal with it for a night.

She lets the music play as she takes a much needed shower. Sure, she could have gone the bath route, but she doesn't want to waste all her time getting clean. Alina has decided her hours alone should end with a much needed date with her vibrator and an Owen Gray video that she's going to watch without headphones.

Olivia Rodrigo's Brutal is pounding from her speaker, and though Alina's twenty-one, not seventeen, the lyrics hit all the same. She's so into the music, thinking about her life for the past four months, thinking about moving as soon as she possibly can, thinking yeah, it really is fucking brutal out here, that she does not notice the telltale signs of someone entering her apartment, and even more worrisome, someone entering the bathroom. Not until it's too late.

"Thought you were too cool for Olivia Rodrigo," a very male voice says, and then the shower curtain opens.

Screams fill the air from both of them. Alina's already holding her conditioner bottle, and on instinct, hurls it at the man's chest while her other hand reaches for her razor.

"Oi!"

Only then does her mind register that it's not a strange man come to sexually assault her, it's Mal. Her best friend. Her roommate's casual lover slash fuck buddy slash whatever. It's Mal, completely naked before her. She gets a quick glimpse of his cock, half-hard, before he curses and turns around.

It doesn't help that his backside is just as nice to look at. He's well toned, muscles flexing as he reaches to grab the clothes he must have just discarded. He bends, giving her the most sinful view of his ass, and Saints, her mind goes wild. She pictures him turning back around and pushing her against the wall, slamming inside of her. As he fucks her, she would reach around and grab that delicious ass of his, dig her fingers into the plump skin, and leave little half-moon indents.

Mal is apologizing over and over again — "I thought you were Zoya!" — as he gathers up his clothes and makes a beeline for the door. Alina finally snaps out of her filthy fantasy and slides the shower curtain closed with a shaky hand. She leans back against the tiled wall, breathing hard. Her heart is pounding like never before.

The song is winding down. Olivia is crooning, God I don't even know where to start.

Neither does Alina.

~

By the time she musters the courage to finish her shower and leave the bathroom, her robe clutched tightly around her, there’s no sign of Mal in the apartment. Zoya isn’t back yet, either.

With a sigh of relief, she flops onto her bed. Her previous plans were out the window now. Taking a breath, she goes over the facts in her head. 

One: Mal has now seen her completely naked. 

Two: she has now seen Mal completely naked. 

It was the wrong thing to think about, because now she’s picturing the smooth expanse of his skin, his perfectly tight ass, and the quick glimpse she had gotten of his—

Heat pools between her thighs. She’s positively aching, when she should be feeling horrified. She should absolutely not be reaching for her vibrator as she lets the images of Mal’s naked body settle in her mind. It’s wrong, because Mal is, at least somewhat, Zoya’s, and Zoya is her friend. Besides, it was Zoya that he had come looking for, Zoya that he wanted to fuck against the shower wall. 

But Alina does grab her vibrator, and as it buzzes her to multiple releases, she imagines Mal shoving her against the wall, pressing kisses to her neck, fucking her like it’s his sole reason for existing. Fucking her like she’s his, and he’s hers.

~

She doesn’t see Zoya until the next morning, passing out sometime after orgasm number three. Saints, if the memory of Mal’s bare skin had been enough to keep her going for three rounds, she wasn’t sure she could even handle actually being with him. 

When she walks into the kitchen, Zoya is sitting at their tiny excuse for a table. “Good morning,” Alina says as naturally as possible. 

Zoya only says, “Sit down, Starkov.”

It’s unnerving, how quickly can could take over her entire body. Saying nothing, still going for casual, Alina sits across from her. “What’s up?”

“That’s my question, actually.” Zoya arches a brow. “What happened with you and Mal last night?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. I know he stopped by before I got home. When I asked why he left, he got all weird and said something came up with Dubrov. But I know that’s a lie, because Dubrov was happily posting drunken stories last night. So obviously something happened when he was over.” Zoya sits back in her chair and stares her down, making her insides twist. “And since I don’t live with him, the only person I have to grill is you. So get talking.”

Alina sighs, knowing she isn’t strong enough to deny Zoya when she’s like this, and babbles out the story. Really, it wasn’t her fault. Mal was the one that walked in on her. It was just incredibly embarrassing for both of them. 

When she finishes, Zoya lets the information sink in, and then she laughs, harder than Alina has ever seen her laugh.

“Well I’m so glad this is funny to you,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is! I can only imagine your faces, shit.” Zoya wipes at her eyes. “Too bad you already know each other, that would make for one hell of a meet cute.” She pauses and says, “Well, it still could be your origin.”

Alina frowns. “Our origin?”

“You know, if you guys dated.”

She momentarily loses her breath. “What? No, you guys are a thing.”

Zoya rolls her eyes. “We’re fucking, Alina, that’s it. And actually, I was planning on cutting it off after last night.” She stands and pours herself what is at least her second up of coffee. “There’s someone else I’m interested in.”

“Someone else? Who?” Zoya says nothing. Alina pops up as it comes to her. “Oh! It’s that rich blond guy from the bar, isn’t it? The one that transferred here this semester. Nikolai or something, right?”

The tiniest blush spreads on Zoya’s face, and Alina squeals. “It is him! Saints, he’s attractive.”

“Yes, he is,” Zoya snaps. “And not bad for conversation, either.”

“Conversation?” She grins. “Why, Miss Nazyalensky, do you actually have feelings for this guy?”

Zoya scowls. “Shut it, Starkov.”

“Oh, you totally have feelings for him!”

“Keep it up and you will pay for this. I’m devising a plan as we speak.”

Alina just laughs. “Okay, Mrs. Whatever Nikolai’s Last Name Is.”

Under her breath, Zoya mutters, “Lantsov,” and stalks off with her coffee as Alina laughs harder. 

~

Zoya, apparently, hadn’t been kidding when she said she was devising a plan. 

When the weekend rolls around once again and Zoya texts the group chat they have with Genya about getting lunch, Alina jumps at the idea. She missed Genya, and it had been a hell of a week between juggling exams and thinking about her encounter with Mal. They haven’t spoken at all, and she had used her classes as an excuse to get out of any hang outs where he might show up. 

Zoya’s words from the morning after had been on her mind a lot, too. It still could be your origin. Could it? Was Mal even interested in her — and would he even want to try, after he’d had something with Zoya, or would it just be inevitably awkward?

Alina approaches the restaurant and sucks in a breath. She’s decided to finally tell Zoya about how she’s had feelings for Mal all this time, and maybe with her and Genya, the three of them can come up with what the hell Alina should do next. 

Zoya had texted five minutes ago saying she grabbed them a table in the restaurant’s outdoor patio, so she makes her way there. Only it’s not Zoya or even Genya waiting for her.

It’s Mal. 

He looks just as surprised to see her as she is to see him, and for a moment, she believes it really is some crazy coincidence. 

“Alina,” he says, standing. Neither of them can quite meet the other’s eye. “What are you doing here?”

Her hand is doing some nervous twitchy thing at her side, so she shoves it into the pocket of her dress. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya and Genya.”

Mal curses under his breath. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shaking her head and feeling incredibly stupid, Alina takes out her phone and fires off a text to Zoya, WHAT THE HELL????

The next message she receives comes from Zoya — only not in the text chat between the two of them, but rather a newly created group chat with the two of them and Mal. 

consider this the official end to our fuck-mance, oretsev. yalls little bathroom flash show was the perfect opportunity for a new beginning, because yes, i see the doe eyes you give alina when she’s not looking. you too, starkov. i’m sorry for getting in the way for so long. have a good date, no throwing bottles at each other xoxo

They finish reading at the same time, looking up from their phones, eyes meeting before flickering away again. 

Mal sighs. “I think I hate her.”

“I think I hate her, too.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Alina bites her lip. Because he doesn’t want to do this, she thinks. “Oh, well, I guess—”

Mal cuts her off. “But it might be a nice chance for us to talk.” Her head snaps up, and this time when their eyes meet, neither of them look away. He smiles shyly. “I missed you this week, Lina.”

Her smile matches his. “I missed you, too.” 

They sit, and after the waiter takes their order for drinks and an appetizer for them to share — a sample platter, both of them too indecisive for any singular thing — Mal starts to stutter out an apology. Alina stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks down at where her fingers brush against bare skin, and she wonders if he’s thinking about all the skin they’ve bared to each other now. She certainly is.

“You don’t need to apologize, Mal,” she promises. “It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Still, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.”

“Well, it was,” she admits, then adds, “at first.”

“At first?”

She shrugs, but says nothing, thankful for their drinks arriving to save her from answering. Because the truth was she had been scared for maybe three seconds. Once she had realized it was Mal, she’d only felt desire.

With their awkward shower encounter out of the way, they fall into fairly easy conversation, complaining about exams and projects, annoying classmates and neighbors. Soon enough, they’re back to being themselves. Alina pulls out her phone to show Mal all the memes and TikToks she had wanted to send him this week, and he does the same. Hours fly by without their notice, and now the dinner crowd is filing in. 

“Oi, I think our waiter is silently praying for us to leave.”

She laughs, pulling out her wallet. “Definitely.”

Mal waves her off. “Let me get it,” he says, taking his own wallet out. “I mean, since this is apparently a date and all.”

Alina hesitates, a little flutter in her chest even though he’d said it teasingly. “Okay, fine. But I’ll get the tip.”

“Deal.”

When everything is paid for, they stand. Going home is the last thing she wants right now, and not just because Zoya will be there. 

Mal looks ready to pull her into one of their standard hugs, but pauses. “Do you want to come over? We can find something shitty to watch. Mikhael and Dubrov will be around, but I just really don’t want to see Zoya right now.”

Alina smiles, the flutter in her chest returning with vigor. “Yeah, okay.”

~

At Mal’s flat, they settle onto the sofa together, close enough that their shoulders brush. Mikhael and Dubrov tease them about looking like lovebirds, but otherwise surprisingly leave them be. She doesn’t mind their company — but admittedly, she was glad they stayed to their respective rooms tonight. Mal puts on an indie horror flick that’s so bad it’s good, and they laugh and joke with each other throughout, per usual. 

About halfway through the film, they share a knowingly look — their that foreshadowing is so obvious, RIP to that character in twenty minutes look — and sport matching grins. But when the moment passes, neither of them looks away. 

“Alina,” Mal says softly, and her breath hitches. Has he ever said her name with such longing before?

His eyes flicker down — to her lips. She thinks of Zoya’s text then, basically calling both of them out for having feelings for each other. And while neither of them had confirmed it, they hadn’t denied it either.

Her heart is beating so fast. She gives him the tiniest nod.

Mal understands, he always does, and then he’s leaning in. Their noses brush before their lips do, and it could be silly or awkward, but instead it’s a different kind of intimacy she hadn’t known she wanted.

“Alina,” he breathes once more, and then he kisses her, so softly at first, it’s barely anything. Her stomach is doing cartwheels regardless. She takes initiative, kissing him back. Still soft, still careful, afraid that whatever this is between them is something fragile, something that needs delicacy. In some ways, it is. Her closest friendship, blossoming into something more. 

Mal lets out the softest moan, and it snaps something between them. 

He pulls her closer, his hand on the back of her neck, and now Alina is the one moaning, fervor replacing the softness, the delicacy. It’s the kind of kiss she’s been fantasizing about, made even better from how obvious it is that they’ve both wanted this for a long time. A desperate kiss bursting with desire. 

Alina shifts closer until she’s practically straddling his lap. Mal brings one hand to rest on her lower back, the other curling into her hair. His lips move to her neck, trailing down until he reaches her collarbone, where he nips and sucks, undoubtedly leaving a mark. 

“Mal,” she sighs, her head tipped back from the feeling as her hips roll against his. He curses against her skin. Her hands move to the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off. 

All of a sudden, Mal pulls away, stopping her hands with his own. “Alina, don’t.”

She blinks her eyes open. “Do you want to move to your room?”

Mal bites his lip and shakes his head.

Alina frowns, any warmth in her chest turning cold. She quickly returns to her own side of the couch. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this.” Wanted me, she thinks but doesn’t say. Because he certainly had no issues with Zoya.

“I do!” he says quickly, taking her hand again and trying to pull her back. She holds her ground, pulls her hand out of his. “I do want this, Alina. Saints, I do. But this is technically our first date, right? I don’t want to do first date sex, not with you.”

Alina rolls her eyes, looking down and tugging at a loose thread on her dress. “Is this where you say something you think sounds respectful but really just puts down all the girls you have had first date sex with?”

“Alina, please look at me.”

Grudgingly, she does. 

“You’re different because you’re my best friend, and because I’ve been hooking up with our mutual friend.” She flinches, but Mal continues. “I don’t want you to think we have to have sex because of that. What I had with Zoya — it was good, and I care about Zoya, but it didn’t go beyond the physical. That’s all we wanted from each other. But that’s not all I want with you.”

Mal closes his eyes. Alina’s unconsciously holding her breath. He exhales and opens his eyes again, holding her gaze. “I want everything with you, Alina. I want your highs and your lows. I want to take you against the wall as much as I want to hold your hand.” He does so now, both of his hands around one of hers, and this time she doesn’t pull away. “And if you didn’t want to be physical? I’d still want you. I don’t want you to think there’s anything we have to do. That’s why I want to wait — even if I also want to take you to my room and pin you against my bed, too.”

“Oh,” she says, barely audible. Alina shakes her head, a little speechless. “I don’t know what to say.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Was that too rom-com confessional?”

The tension breaks. She laughs and climbs onto his lap again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re such a dork, but you’re the perfect dork. So we’ll wait.” She pauses and looks up at him with innocent eyes. “But will you kiss me again?”

Mal grins, pushes her down against the couch, and does just that. 

~

When she gets home, Zoya is waiting in the living room, reading a smutty romance book Genya had recommended. “Hey, how’d it go?” she asks, too casually to actually be casual. 

Alina ignores her and walks straight to her room. She’s decided to let Zoya sweat it out a bit for the weekend after her little stunt, even if it was successful. 

Though really, she didn’t think it would bother Zoya that much. Hard as steel Zoya, who never let anything get to her. But on Sunday, she bursts into Alina’s room, interrupting her studying. 

“Okay, I know you hate me now or whatever, but at least let me tell you that I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much you liked him, Alina. Not until Genya told me.”

Alina closes her book, frowning. “Genya told you?”

Zoya nods and sits at the end of her bed. “Recently, when I told her about Nikolai and that I was thinking about cutting things off with Mal. Don’t be mad at her, just be mad at me.” 

“Well—” she starts, but Zoya cuts her off. 

“And honestly? The worst part is, part of me did know. I saw the looks you gave each other, but I brushed them off because I was selfish and enjoying myself. I was a really, really shit friend to you, and I’m so sorry, Alina. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just—

Zoya stops mid-sentence, cut off by the laughter bubbling out of Alina. 

“Saints, I never thought I’d see the day that Zoya Nazyalensky grovels.” She shoots her a grin. “I accept your apology. And as much as I want to hate you for your meddling stunt, it worked, because we definitely spent the night making out. I just did the whole silent treatment to make you suffer a little.”

A moment passes — Zoya is completely still, too still — and then she grabs one of Alina’s pillows and smacks her with it. “You little rat!”

Alina only laughs harder, fighting off Zoya’s pillow attack with her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say sorry non-sarcastically! You did so well, Nazyalensky!”

“And you’ll never hear it again! You’ve lost apology privileges! 

Eventually, Alina moves into the living room to study, and Zoya joins her. When their brains need a break, Alina tells her about her date with Mal, and Zoya tells her about her own with Nikolai. If this is their new normal, Alina finds that she really likes it. 

~

The next week is outstandingly better than the previous. She’s back to talking to Mal each day, even more than before. Halfway through the week, he sends her a song with the message, This song made me think of you the first time I heard it, still does every time. It has her heart beating extra fast as she listens on her walk to class, not only because it’s incredibly sweet, but because Mal has played this song for her before, months and months ago, which means he’s felt this way the whole time. 

Early Saturday evening, Zoya announces that she’s spending the night at Nikolai’s. “He has his own apartment, so it just makes sense. I’ll be home in the morning, probably.”

Thank the Saints for rich boys. 

She texts Mal, and Zoya’s barely gone for ten minutes before he’s there. They make dinner together — well, Alina sits on the counter while Mal does the actual cooking, but he spends any down time kissing her, so she likes to think she was the moral support. They eat on the couch, watching their favorite trashy reality television, and play a few rounds of Mario Kart afterwards. Really, it’s just like how things were when they were simply best friends, except now Alina drapes her body over his as they watch their show, Mal’s thumb moving in slow circles on her ankle, and instead of talking or playing on their phones during ad breaks, they pick up where they left off in the kitchen, their lips pressed together in a blissful ease. 

They’re on their fifth game of Mario Kart, Alina in the lead, as she has been every round. She’s bragging about how she’s going to beat him again when suddenly her vision is blocked as Mal presses his lips to hers. 

Her surprise doesn’t stop her from dropping her controller and kissing back. She’s just getting into the kiss when Mal pulls away as quickly as he had started the kiss. He stands, and only then does she see he never dropped his controller. Picking up right where he left off, he steers Luigi towards the finish line. (“Who the hell picks Luigi?” Alina had asked him once. To which Mal responded, “It’s not fair people only care about his brother when he probably works just as hard at their plumbing business. It’s just like people only knowing Adam Levine and ignoring the rest of Maroon 5—” which led to a very cute rant that Alina spent less time listening to and more time staring at his lips while he was distracted.)

Alina fumbles for her controller, but it’s too late. Mal hasn’t come in first — some of the computers still beat him. But he’s beat her, which by the smirk on his face, was his only goal.

“You’re such a cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy.”

“I suppose you need your strategy, since you don’t have any skills.”

Mal raises a brow, a devious look in his eyes. “Is that so? Perhaps I should show you my skills, then.” He moves in front of her and kneels on the couch, a leg on either side of her body, essentially pinning her there, and kisses her again. 

Immediately, she can feel the difference from the strategy kiss and even the ones from earlier that night. He’s kissing with purpose, cradling her face with one hand, the other on her waist, and Alina is melting against him. She is putty in Mal’s hands, his to mold how he pleases. 

He’s holding himself so that his weight isn���t pressing down on her, but that’s exactly what she wants. Her hips buck up against his, and Mal pulls back to moan, “Fuck, Alina,” so she does it again.

“Please tell me we can have second date sex.”

Mal chuckles. “Are we even going to bother with the dating process?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Alina grins. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it.

“All right. Alina, my beauty, my beloved, will you bless me with the honor of calling you my girlfriend?”

Her grin widens, and giddy butterflies dance inside her chest. No, not butterflies — fireflies. She can feel their warmth and wouldn’t be surprised if she was glowing from their light. “Oh, I suppose.”

Mal laughs. “I can’t stand you,” he says, and kisses her again.

Alina returns the kiss for a moment before murmuring against his lips, “You don’t have to stand me, but now that you’re my boyfriend, can you fuck me?”

He practically growls as he says, “Saints, yes,” standing and lifting her with him. Mal brings them to her room, kissing her the whole way. He unceremoniously shoves her school books off of her bed, laying her down and crawling over her. “You don’t know how often I’ve imagined this,” he murmurs, lips on her throat. 

“Tell me,” she gasps.

“Every time I came over, Alina. Every time.”

A shiver runs down her spine. “Even when you were here to—”

“Especially then.”

She has no idea what to do with this information. Her head is empty of thought save for the screaming need for more of him, so she pulls his shirt over his head. This time, Mal doesn’t stop her. Her hands roam over all the places she’s been dying to touch; down his back, tracing along his spine, up over his stomach, fingers running along the muscles of his chest, brushing over a few scars he’s accumulated through the years.

“You’re so perfect,” she whispers. Smooth in some places, rougher in others, but so incredibly warm everywhere.

Mal tips her chin up, kisses her lips once, hard, and then another to her jaw, down her neck, her collarbone. Then he’s the one tossing her shirt aside, his lips continuing their decent. He’s pressing soft words into her skin as he kisses her — beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart —murmuring his love for her even as he brings her nipple between his teeth.

“Shit, Mal,” Alina breathes. Her hips keep bucking, far beyond her control. He chuckles, murmurs something along the lines of no patience, and quickens his pace. Soon enough, he’s got her undressed completely — which isn’t too unnerving after the shower incident. Any lingering nerves flee once his head is between her thighs. She’s suddenly very thankful Zoya isn’t home, because even though it’s never been a problem during sex before, she absolutely cannot control the noises she’s making — and she’s loud.

Mal returns to her with glistening lips. She kisses him and tastes herself, a thrill better than any rollercoaster. Her hands move to the waistband of his pants, giving a half-hearted tug. “Off.”

“So lazy,” he teases, unclasping the button on his jeans, tugging down the zipper. “I could always make you work for it.”

“Have mercy on me, Oretsev. I’m still recovering from the pleasures of your cocky mouth.”

He looks so proud of himself, she wants to kiss him just to wipe the smirk off of his face. “If you enjoyed my cocky mouth, just wait until you feel my—

“Do not finish that sentence.”

But then he’s pushing down his boxers, and all Alina can do is stare as the cock in question springs free. He’s fully hard this time around, and her thighs squeeze together at the sight. He watches her as she practically drools over his dick, his smirk becoming even, well, smirkier. She reaches out and curls her fingers around his length, giving him two quick strokes — both to clear the smirk from his face and because she so very much wants to touch him. 

“Fuck, Alina,” he hisses. He’s reaching for his jeans, probably to grab a condom from his pocket, but she grabs his hand.

“I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested recently.” Of course, there’s still a slight risk. But it’s Mal — finally Mal — and she wants to feel every inch of him.

He pauses, then nods. “Okay.” Crawling over her, he takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. With his other hand, he grips his cock and drags the tip through her folds like the damn tease he is, eliciting needy mewling from her that he seems to enjoy. In her ear, he murmurs, “How do you want this, Alina?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Mal chuckles softly, but the sound so close to her ear sends more shivers down her spine. “As you wish, moya solnishka.” My little sun.

She has only a brief moment to bask in the sweetness of his words before he’s slamming into her all in one go, anything sweet flying out the window. Mal keeps a steady rhythm while sucking on her neck, which is good, because all Alina can do is moan incoherently as her nails leave scratches down his back.

When he senses her getting close, Mal brings his finger to her clit, circling just right. “Saints!” she cries, and comes undone beneath him once again. But this time, she gets to watch him fall over the edge with her, his eyes so incredibly dark as he moans his release. He’s the only man she’s ever let come inside of her, and it feels very right that it’s Mal — she doesn’t want anyone else filling her like this, marking her in a sense as his spend drips down her thighs.

They stay like that for a while, foreheads pressed together, sweaty and sticky, but blissfully so. 

“So, is the sex still good on this side of the apartment?”

In answer, he dips his head and bites down on one of her tits.

“Shit, Malyen!”

“Ridiculous questions get ridiculous responses,” he teases, then wraps his arms around her, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder. “You’re all I’ve wanted for two years, Alina, and this still beat my expectations.”

Smiling, she rests her chin against the top of his head. “Good. I would hate to have to start fucking in Zoya’s bed just because you like the airflow better there.”

“Smart ass,” Mal mutters, but he’s smiling. Then he says, "You know, this may not be my first time fucking in this apartment, but I’m still checking off a first tonight — of many, I hope.”

Alina rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware this is your first time fucking me in this apartment, dumb ass.”

"That’s not what I meant, rude ass.”

She frowns. “Then what did you mean?”

He squeezes her hip. “It’s my first time spending the night.”

Her heart does a little jump in her chest, and she doesn’t even have it in her to tease that she hasn’t actually asked him to stay yet. But stay he does, though he gets her off a few more times before they pass out for the night — definitely beating her vibrator. One time it’s with his fingers, so incredibly long that she knows all her fantasies will involve the slender digits now. Another is after Alina murmurs about how filthy she is and that she really ought to take a shower. 

Mal waits long enough to join her that she starts to worry he hadn’t understood her intent. But then she hears his footsteps, and the shower curtain opens. There’s no bottle throwing this time, though she can’t say the same for the screaming. He steps into the shower, kisses her slowly, sensually, then pushes her back until she shivers from the feeling of cold tile against her bare skin.

“I meant to ask, you do know you have mirrors in here, right?” Mal murmurs huskily into her ear. She’s too disoriented with want to understand until he says, “I saw you staring at my ass last time.”

Then he slams into her, and Alina no longer has to imagine how it feels to be fucked against the shower wall.

#malina #malina fanfic #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #grishaverse fanfic #college au #PHEW THIS TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN EXPECTED #because i wrote much more than expected sksksksk #but this time i think i'm happy with what came out #i will never tire of writing these two idiots in love so i hope yall don't tire of reading me writing these idiots in love teehee #this one is steamy folks! #TY FOR THE PROMPT LINA I HOPE U ENJOY!!!! #writing #mine #ps the song he sends her is in the title teehee #for inquiring minds #also i've only read through this once so sorry in advance for the inevitable typos lmao

[reawritesthings]

Rocky | JJ Maybank

Gif by @rudypankows

Summary: New to the Pogues, you weren’t familiar with JJ’s fighting habits, when he stumbles into the chateau black and blue, feelings are thrown into the after match. 

Words: 1.8K

Warning: none i guess?? aftermatch of a fight??

When your mother announced that you were moving to a smaller town, you weren't expecting this. Kildale, North Carolina was your new resident for the next four years. You weren’t exactly ecstatic but you were curious to see what a simple life can bring you.

After weaving through the labyrinth of roads, the paths eventually coverage and revealed your new home. Broken trees, tangled bushes and chipped paint was now your safe place. 

“You’ll love it here. I promise you.” Her mother grinned. 

“Yep, paradise on Earth.” You mocked but your mother's smile only grew. “That’s the spirit. You’ll make friends in no time.” She promised, leaving you to take in the salty breeze that tangled through your hair.

Months went by and you were happy, secured with your friends. They were a little dysfunctional but you considered them family. You met Kiara first, one of the best days and memorable days. The Wreck was a safe place where free meals would come your way, if you promised to work there.

Kiara then introduced you to the boys, or you’ll like to call them: Draco, Harry and Ron. They reminded you of fictional characters that were too good to be true.

John B instantly grew a liking towards you. You weren’t predictable as he thought any new girl would be. Pope loved your view on literature, whilst JJ admired your recklessness when it came to messing with the infamous Kooks.

It was an ordinary Friday night which was known as party night, but somehow the Pogues weren’t feeling the need to mope over Tourons. JJ was out, probably finding new ways to get into trouble since he already committed every crime. So, you were quarantined with the rest but your mind was too occupied with JJ's disappearance to focus on the show.

“Has anyone heard, seen or even, spoke to JJ tonight?” You randomly asked which they all immediately shook their heads. If JJ wanted to be found, he would call but something inside your stomach made you feel he was in trouble.

“I think we should look for him. It’s pretty late and he usually arrives around 10pm. It’s 10:30.”

Yourself and JJ had a bond that no one could describe, unless they witnessed the two of you in action. The both of you confined each other when things got rough, he admired the way you never judged him nor lectured him about his choice in actions. Most people would refer to you as Bonnie and Clyde - a pair of outlaws fighting crime with nothing but love. 

He loved the simplest things about you, the little nose scrunches when you patch up his cuts. He loves hearing your angelic voice reciting sonnets to him; Sonnet 116 was your favourite. Once he had an understanding of what Shakesphere was saying, he got the number tattooed. 

“I’m sure he’s just got lost on the way home. He’s clumsy like that.” Kiara reassured you but your gut was telling you otherwise.

Pope could sense your stress as you began to grip onto JJ’s jumper, his response was placing his arm around you giving your shoulder a tight squeeze.

“He’ll be okay. He’s JJ, he has survival skills of an ant.” Pope whispered letting your head fall into his shoulder as you forced yourself to watch an episode.

It was now 12am, and everyone was out like a light. You, however, were awake standing by the porch waiting for him to come home. 

“Where are you, JJ?” You whispered under your breath looking into the darkness. As the breeze was hitting your exposed skin, you sheleted inside wrapping his scent over your body letting some tears escape your eyes.

JJ makes his entrance late. You hear the door swing open more loudly than usual, causing your eyes to open. You don’t look at him, nor acknowledge him. He’s late and he knew you would be made when he doesn’t show up. He tried to say your name, his bruised lip failing at the first syllable, but he doesn’t need to finish, you were already on your feet to stop him from falling. His left eye is swollen, meaning he wouldn’t be able to see for a while. His face still bears congealed blood and his clothes were destroyed. 

“JJ, you seriously need to stop getting into fights… Everytime you walk through the door, a new shot of purple ruins your perfect tanned skin.” You sniffled as you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but with a reassuring touch you began to nurse him.

Each bud stained more than the last, you could sense his embarrassment, shame and guilt as he let tears shelter through his cuts.

“I’ve got you, you are safe now.” you whispered as you finished cleaning him up. Although his face was now seen as a punching bag, you gracefully planted a small kiss to his forehead letting him know he was forgiven.

Since the bedrooms were occupied, the two of you had no choice to share the pull out. Helping JJ onto the bed, he immediately buried his head into your chest letting you shelter him from the monsters he ran from.

“I’ve got you..” You whispered once more before your eyes began to fall into a deep slumber as your mind was finally at rest.

The morning after couldn’t come any sooner, it felt like a couple of minutes since you closed your eyes. JJ was still out, his body was curled into yours as his light snores woke you along with the roaster John B decided to keep.

“What a beaut- what happened?” John B croaked, but immediately gave you an apologetic look as you placed your finger to your mouth. 

“He got into a fight, he couldn’t talk when he came in last night.” You whispered hoping JJ wouldn’t wake up, as he needed all the sleep he could get.

“Is there anything I can do?” John B always felt hopeless when he would find the two of you asleep on a pull out. It was either you having nightmares or JJ getting beaten up.

“Maybe some water, just in case he needs to feel strong again” You mumbled, looking down at how peaceful he was. 

You always loved the way his curly blonde locks invaded his face as he slept. It was usually him, spooning you but occasionally he liked it when you took charge. He liked being taken care of, since no one else bothered too.

“Jesus, He really out did his last fight.” Pope groggily spoke, starching his hair as he came out of the spare bedroom along with Kie who was brushed and ready to start the day.

“Should Pope and I get breakfast from the Wreck? I feel like we all needed a Carrera breakfast.” Kiara jokes to lighten the mood a little.

“Please.” You chuckled letting your finger brush through JJ’s messy hair. 

“Okay, let us know if anything happens.” Pope added on, letting Kiara pull his frame out of the picture and towards the car.

You looked over at John B for guidance in what to do, you were fairly new and even the bond you and JJ shared, you still felt hopeless.

“Someone needs to not let him get into all these fights. One day, he might not even make it back. I think you need to talk to him.” John B confined his feelings with you, but you couldn’t be the one to lecture him. 

“You’ve known him longer. He’s your best friend.” You argued back, giving John B some serious thinking. 

“You’re his girlfriend, you know him more than I do.” John B without realising labelled you, but it wasn’t true. You and JJ were friends, best friends. 

“I’m not his girlfriend, and I told you to shut up about that.” You confessed your feelings but you never would admit your desire to be with the blonde rebel. 

“Well, I know he likes you and if he wasn’t asleep, I’ll get those bruises myself. “ John B wasn’t good at keeping secrets, nor was Pope, which only left Kiara to be the trusted one in the group. 

As JJ arms were secured around you, the bladder inside you was nearly at breaking point. You slowly began to remove his tendered arms away from your waist but a whine escaped JJ’s lip.

“D-Don’t leave.” He choked out, opening an eye to see your face.

“I need to pee… I’ll be back, I promise.” JJ nodded, letting go of you as his arms flopped onto the mattress but his smile grew as your scent stayed with him.

“Watch him.” You nudged John B who was busy scrolling through Sarah Cameron’s Instagram.

“Aye, Aye Captain,” John B closed his phone, walking over to the bed to check on his best friend.

“Dude, what the fuck happened?” He immediately asked, he knew he wasn’t okay so he didn’t bother with that question.

JJ was trying to form words, “I-I ran into Topper and he mentioned Y/N, talking about her as if she was some piece of meat. I couldn’t let him talk about my girl like that.” JJ grumbled, looking up as John B gave him a huge grin.

“I knew you liked her.�� JJ shook his head, “I love her, man.” JJ confessed not noticing you were already standing under the door frame, listening to every word.

“I love you, too.” You swooned making your way over to him, planting a small kiss to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry for missing movie night and getting into another fight. I’ll promise I won’t get into more fights.” But you only chuckled as no matter how much you tried, you could never get that boy to stop fighting especially for the one he loves.

“Mhm, get some rest. Food is on the way.” You grinned, letting John B cringe over the way you planted soft kisses to his cuts.

“You two are adorably cringy .” JJ rolled his eyes, “jealousy isn’t a good look, bro.” John B scoffed at the remark looking at you to take his side.

“I agree with rocky. Not going to get anywhere with scrolling through her Instagram.” You sassed, heading JJ chuckle but winced immediately clutching into his stomach. 

“Serves yo- Food is here.” John B knew finishing that sentence wouldn’t be ideal so he lunged towards Pope, thanking him for his impeccable timing. 

As you let your friend set up the table, you noticed JJ pulling his weight up to face you.

“I mean it, I love you Y/N.” JJ expressed his feelings again, which surprised you as he wasn’t the one to open up about certain things.

“I love you, JJ.” You reached in to kiss his bruised lip, ignoring all the aww’s coming from your friends.

masterlist  AND TAGLIST

#outer banks #outer banks cast #obx cast #outer banks imagines #outer banks masterlist #jj maybank #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow #jj x y/n #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #obx jj maybank #outer banks jj #obx imagines #obx jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj x reader #jj x you #jj maybank smut

[cupcakemolotov]

Happiness Looks Like You

So I think I have been poking at this thing for two years now. Anyway, its done, I am kicking it out of my WIP files, and y’all get lots of fluff.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Fluff and Humor; Drinking; Drinking & Talking; Drunken Flirting; (Only Somehwat Drunken);New Year's Eve;New Years; Caroline Forbes Travels the World;Ignoring TO;Ignoring Anything Canon I Don't Like;Happy Bonnie Bennett;Everyone deserves better

You can read it here on A03:

                                                    -    

Caroline felt a bit silly that it took her so long to realize what her nose was trying to tell her. She wasn’t even really that drunk, just kind of tipsy. It'd been a really long two days of moving, after all, even for a vampire, and she’d totally deserved those Bloody Mary’s. And that shot of whiskey. The bottle of gin. She’d turned down the vodka, hadn’t she?

It was New Year’s Eve, and she was maybe an itty bitty, tiny bit drunk.

The sage, potent and familiar, had helped to throw her off. Spells were common on this night, the need for private conversation and so she’d merely wrinkled her nose as she moved away from the exit she’d been pushing towards, wondering if another drink would suffice for the next half hour or so. Witch business on New Years was not something she wanted to be involved in.

Been there, done that, used Enzo as bait.

Really, it was an evening she just wasn’t up to repeating. Bonnie would have kittens, and the lectures had been bad enough the first time. Better to just find a safer spot even if it meant food options would be limited. She didn’t need blood, and the craving for something deep fried could wait. Turning on her heel, she just started to move when a different, old and recognizable scent teased her nose. It was familiar and intricate, something she’d never been able to fully name but knew well.

Hybrid.

With that single breath came a deluge of memories her alcohol induced haze couldn’t quite block, and she exhaled on a rush of air. Ignoring the jostling around her to rise up on her toes with her heart in her throat, she’d barely caught a glimpse of tousled curls she’d know anywhere, the arrogant set of a pair of broad shoulders moving deeper into the crowd she’d just left.

Klaus.

Caroline landed back on her heels with a thud. It’d been nearly a century since she’d walked away from Mystic Falls, and a series of noisy, converted warehouses in Amsterdam in the midst of a New Year’s Celebration was the last place she’d have thought to find him. Once or twice over the years when she’d allow herself to think of him, she sometimes wondered if it’d really be centuries before the next time they’d talk. Some nights, that seemed like a very long time.

But for all her occasionally morous musings, she knew Klaus wasn’t one to fade quietly into the background. In the back of her mind she’d known it had always just been a matter of time before they’d run into each other. The world had become much smaller and much bigger than she could ever have imagined back in Mystic Falls, and now her feet felt frozen to the floor.

Did she follow him?

Did she say hi?

Behind her, someone cursed and stumbled drunkenly into her, and it broke her out of her daze. Post-ball drop, the converted warehouse around her was a madhouse and for a moment she weighed the chance that he’d seen her and chose to avoid her, and immediately discarded it. It wasn’t Klaus’ style. If he’d seen her, she knew down to her bones he’d have taken the opportunity to say hello.

Her lips curled at the realization that for once, she’d have the chance to surprise him. It seemed fitting, in the early hours of the new year. Decided, she moved through the crowd in the direction he’d gone, hoping she could catch him. Reaching up smooth curls turned frizzy from hours dancing, Caroline was thankful she’d chosen to dress up.

She almost hadn’t.

The last two weeks had been a chaotic mix of boxes and paint samples, arguing with Enzo via VC as he complained about her ditching him and Bonnie in London. Her witchy best friend had mostly ignored their bickering, her fond exasperation clear in the commentary she ran from the background. She hadn’t managed to buy more than a few of the basics, it was seriously going to annoy her until she found the perfect headboard, but at least the mattress was off the floor and she’d found a pair of super cute side tables with pretty motifs that brought in the colors she wanted.

Decorating agreed with her.

So did living outside of the US.

Leaving had been hard, but it hadn’t been lonely, not with Enzo and Bonnie with her. They’d all changed, the way she’d been told she would, but they hadn’t lost themselves, the way had worried her. Bonnie might have learned to accept her friend’s choices, but she was still Bonnie. Dangerous, opinionated, and a lovelier friend you couldn’t find. She was also a witch madly in love with a vampire who was totally pro-murder. Enzo had no regrets about who and what he was, and he’d been so good for her friend who had packed enough hurt and troubles in her late teens and early twenties for ten lifetimes.

And once she had been surrounded by fewer judgements and no expectations, Caroline had finally found the balance between the vampire and girl that made her happy. It had taken time, she’d needed to outgrow the parts of humanity she’d held onto for all the reasons that had never been her own, but she’d never felt so steady in her own skin. She suddenly found she wanted to know if it was something Klaus would notice. She rather thought he would; he had always seen her better than anyone else, sometimes even better than she saw herself.

Amsterdam was her recognition of that, the first place she'd picked to be hers. Just hers. And hours before, when she’d sat in her first house, if not her first home studying two days worth of work, it had been done with a sense of pride. The urge to go out, to celebrate, had sunk into her bones and she’d dug a dress out of her closet, found her favorite heels and gone dancing.

She’d never really been able to turn down a New Year’s Celebration in a new city.

And now here was Klaus, brushing back up against her life just as she was opening for new opportunities, letting herself go after she wanted because she wanted it. Caroline wondered if she should take it as a sign and if Klaus put any stock into New Year’s traditions. She’d make a point to ask him, she decided.

Nerves fizzed along her skin as she realized when she caught up to him she was going to talk to him, and her steps almost faltered. She pushed aside that unease, refusing to balk now. She wasn’t a quitter. Talking with Klaus had never really been her problem, really, and even if the last time she had seen him his mouth had still been wet from her arousal as he’d murmured his last goodbye, that was a long time ago.

And that thought wasn’t going to help her play this cool, at all. Rising back up on her toes, she scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes. If he’d moved to the VIP floor she was likely going to be out of luck, but there was another bar on the back wall that held all the overpriced booze. He might’ve headed there. Impatience had her moving people out of her way with a little more force than was advisable, and the crowd finally parted in front of her and she caught her first real look at him.

He looked good.

Klaus wore a pair of dark slacks, but if he’d had a jacket, he’d already discarded it. The crisp white sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled nearly to his elbows, and the hint of leather cords at his throat were tantalizing. He was holding a tumbler of whiskey, and for a moment he left her breathless. The last of her buzz disappeared under a surprising rush of feelings she didn’t want to look at, and her teeth sank into her lower lip.

He stood parallel to the bar, expression mildly bored as a witch spoke to him with a nervous face, the flush of his cheeks young. Amusement bubbled as she realized she was watching someone hit on Klaus even as something like jealousy coiled low in her belly at the realization, good taste or no. The idea that she was interrupting something was surprisingly sharp in her throat. Caroline considered leaving, even as the sudden hesitation annoyed her.

She was saved from having to make a choice when his shoulders suddenly straightened, his head coming up sharply as he clearly caught her scent even in the mosh of people. A half a heart beat later, and his head turned, eyes finding hers unerringly in the dim light.

Really, his hybrid senses were just unfair.

Dark and intent, the flicker of surprise behind his gaze that she’d always privately delighted in melted quickly into something hotter. His mouth curved slow and tempting, and she inanely lifted a hand in a small wave. His smile widened, and clearly the witch didn’t matter, because Klaus sat aside his drink immediately and cleared the distance between them in mere strides.

“Caroline,” Klaus murmured, dimples peeking through the scruff of his beard. “This is a surprise, love. A delightful one.”

She arched a brow, unable to help her own answering smile, and finding that she really didn’t want to. “Hi, Klaus. I’m not interrupting, am I?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Can I interest you in a drink?”

Around them, the music blasted at the whim of the DJ, the crowd surging, and Klaus threw a glare over her shoulder as someone bumped into her. Unbothered, she stepped closer to the heat of him, amused by the way his brows arched a little but he made no move to put distance between them. Assured that she was welcome, Caroline shrugged and moved by him. “Sure.”

He beat her to the bar by half a step, but she’d expected that. The witch had disappeared, and as Klaus moved to catch the bartender's eye, she took the opportunity to skim her gaze along the picture he made now that she was closer. She really liked that he’d forgone a tie, the open collar showing off the line of his collarbones beneath his usual tangle of necklaces. His eyes were amused when she glanced back at his face, but she was hardly embarrassed.

Particularly when he didn’t bother to mask the flicker of heat in his gaze as his eyes dipped along her body in a perusal that was anything but casual. The tip of his tongue flickered across his lower lip, eyes warm when they met hers again. “What brings you to Amsterdam, Caroline?”

Grinning, she lifted a shoulder and dropped it, knowing exactly what the motion would do for her boobs. Flirting with Klaus wasn’t new but having no rules against it was and, she realized, fun. “I live here.”

Interest sparked on his face. “Do you?”

Letting out a low hum, she bit the edge of her lip when a bottle of champagne and two glasses appeared. It would never cease to amaze her that the most deadly monster in any room he entered was such a giant cheeseball or how much she liked it. “What about you? Please tell me you're not stirring up trouble. I just finished renovations and would like to actually live in my house, Klaus.”

“Not this time,” he said easily as he poured the champagne and handed her the first glass. “I am here for a bit of business that has now been concluded, and I thought I’d visit an old friend or two. It’s been some time since I spent any time in this city.”

Caroline sipped her drink, letting it fizz on her tongue for a moment as she considered that. “Friends…” she said skeptically. “You have those?”

His eyes gleamed. “Of a sort. Though my current company is far more charming.” She scoffed, ignoring the way she could feel her cheeks heat. Klaus was undeterred by her skepticism. “Why Amsterdam, love?”

She considered his question, all the questions he hadn't asked. “I’ve been in Europe for a few decades now. When we left the states, well. Europe wasn’t our first stop, but Enzo kept insisting, and he’s amazingly persistent. And annoying. London is lovely, he might have been right about that, but I loved it here more.”

“Enzo?”

A hint of something dangerous flickered behind his eyes and she deliberately moved closer to nudge him with her hip. “Nope. Enzo is my friend and happily married to Bonnie. You break his neck and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

His lashes hid his gaze for a moment when she didn’t bother stepping back into her previous space, the heat of him pressed firmly against her side. His gaze held the tiniest flecks of gold at the edges of his eyes when his lashes parted and her pulse skipped. “And have you enjoyed making your home here, Caroline?”

“Yup. I have a few apartments I’ve bought, here and there. But I decided I wanted a house of my own, you know?” It had been an urge that she hadn’t satisfied with her tiny apartment in Cape Town or her flat in London. But Amsterdam was her first house. It’d felt bigger, more significant somehow. “And sometimes a girl just needs a bit of space from her friends, but not too far so, Amsterdam.”

Buying her home had been a touch of serendipity, mixed with careful planning and maybe some online stalking. When she had finally found the home she wanted, she might’ve shamelessly used a teeny tiny bit of compulsion to ensure her offer was accepted, but Real Estate was cut throat and she liked to win. Besides she'd done her research, and she knew exactly what the property was worth. But not even compulsion could make the buying process run completely smooth.

“I’m glad,” Klaus murmured, eyes warm.“I can see how this place would suit you.”

His words settled something in her chest and she took another sip of the excellent champagne to hide it. This monster who only wanted her to fly. Head tipping, Caroline studied his face curiously. “And you? What have you been up to? The PG-13 version, please.”

Pleasure and amusement flickered across his face at her question. “Less murder and mayhem than you’d imagine, sadly, as it does liven up the occasional bit of boredom. But there is always an idiot or two who has decided eternal life is just not the existence for them. I’m generally happy to oblige.”

Her lips pressed together to hold in a smile at his mock exasperation, and his eyes gleamed at her. “That can’t be all you do. Surely.”

Klaus reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, fingertips lingering. “I’ve spent the past few years moving through parts of Europe, but not much to report that would surprise you. The occasional sibling idiocy to correct, a painting here or there.”

She was willing to bet there was a lot more to that statement but she didn’t push. She’d heard rumors of what had happened in New Orleans and had no desire to bring that up here and now. “And how long will you be in Amsterdam?” Caroline asked, making no move to step away from his touch. “Visiting your… friends.”

“I suppose that depends on my welcome,” he replied lightly, but his eyes were dark. His mouth tilted in a small smile before he took a drink of his champagne.

Caroline rolled her eyes at the hint of coaxing in his voice. “I am not inviting you to my house, Klaus. It’s mostly empty and boring and my grandmother would roll over in her grave.”

“Ah,” he agreed mock-seriously, the glimmer of amusement behind his eyes also lingering in the dimple in his cheek. “We can’t have that, can we?”

She pushed at his shoulder with no real force, trying not to laugh. “No, we cannot.”

Klaus didn’t budge, she hadn’t expected him too, if anything he leaned into her space with an amused little noise. “Invitation or no, I’d be delighted to hear of your plans. I have set up a home or two myself, and have a few contacts should you have trouble finding a piece you want. Dining room tables for instance, can be quite vexing.”

“Pretty sure I don’t have your budget, but I’ll probably take you up on that,” Caroline said. A lot could be said about Klaus’ home that she’d seen in Mystic Falls, but his taste, while a little stuffy, had been impeccable.

“Excellent,” he murmured. “You’ll also have to let me know what you consider an appropriate housewarming gift as well. Such things have changed over the years, and I haven’t had a reason to brush up on that particular etiquette.”

Something warm tugged at her chest and she shook her head to cover it. “And here you were just trying to tell me you had friends.”

Before he could reply, and the glitter of mischief on his face told her he had a response, the music skipped, jarring the crowd. All around them, the lights that had been dimmed started to turn on. Klaus scowled murderously, and she laughed once her ears stopped ringing.

And realized she wasn’t ready for this to be over.

Looping her arm through his, she tipped her head towards the exit, stomach a sudden tangle of butterflies. “I was actually on the hunt for food when I saw you and decided to say hi. We’ll probably have to fight the crowds now, but any interest in joining me?”

He had gone carefully motionless when her arm had taken his, but at her words, her admittance that she’d come back to see him, his smile left her breathless. It was such a delighted, boyish thing. Picking up the half full champagne bottle, he handed it to before stepping next to her. “I’d be delighted. I might even have a suggestion or two on a location that will be open this time of night and willing to find us a table.”

She took a long swig of the bottle, letting him start her through the crowd before offering it back. “Pancakes, Klaus. I want pancakes.”

Klaus ignored the bottle, his hand lifting so his thumb could trace her wet lower lip. Bringing it to his mouth, he licked the champagne from his thumb and her body immediately heated, her body becoming intensely aware of everywhere they touched. “Hmm, I’m sure we can find a place to meet those exacting standards.”

Taking a calming breath, she narrowed her eyes at him in warming and he seemed entirely unrepentant. “Uh huh. Pancakes or I won’t show you any of the pictures on my phone of my house.”

His laugh was soft and he started moving again. The crowd never quite pressed close, and people moved out of their way as soon as they got a look at his face. He looked human, the monster tucked away by the amusement and indulgence of him, but his presence was hardly affected by either of that.

“A tragedy, but one we can avoid.” He glanced at her, that dimple tugging at his smile. “Should I warn you that I might have a… suggestion or two?”

She snorted. “By suggestion, you mean opinion. And as long as those opinions are that my taste is flawless and I’m absolutely correct about everything, you may have as many as you want.”

Another laugh, this one deeper, and he led her through the crowd out into the darkness of pre-dawn. The air was cold, she hadn’t bothered with a jacket, but with Klaus next to her she didn’t feel it. Taking another long drink of the last of the champagne, she knew it wasn’t just the booze that fizzled in her veins.

She might not have kissed him at midnight, but she knew in her bones that this night was changing things. Klaus would take her to breakfast, would keep to whatever boundaries she set between them, boundaries she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted anymore, but she’d invited him back to her life. Klaus wasn’t the type to ignore that kind of opening.

Sliding her hand down his arm to link their fingers instead, she found herself smiling widely as his palm pressed tightly against hers.

Happy New Year indeed.

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline drabble #part of my Caroline Travels The World #Because I Hate TO & TVD Endings

[thegirlwhomoanedwolf]

Truth or dare

(Halloween party truth or dare)

*reader has plot of Elena

Damon x Reader

Warnings: 18+, slightly rough

It had been months...

months since (y/n) had been touched by a man. Her last intimate moment had been a gentle kiss with the person she swore she would never willingly touch. But things change and she would have never forgiven herself if she let Damon die without showing him how much she cared. She was prepared to grieve the man who had gotten under her skin, against her best efforts. She had realized a part of her would die with him.

Along with that part would be the guilt she carried. The way she would get excited when he would walk into a room. The sick feeling knowing she could easily have him if she just asked and how sometimes she fantasized about what he would do to her when she finally gave in. That didn’t compare to the worst of her crimes. There were times she had made sure Damon would hear her moans and cries as Stefan thrusted into her.

“Please harder,” she would beg her voice echoing throughout the boarding house. Always one to please Stefan did as he was asked. He didn’t care if Damon heard. He wanted him to know (y/n) was his and that he would never be able to experience the heaven that was being inside of her. If only he had known she screamed and begged hoping his brother was listening. Sometimes she even imagined Damon with flushed cheeks, his need for her burning through him like a fire he couldn’t put out. She would imagine him with his head thrown back and his eyes shut tightly as he stroked himself pretending he was the one responsible for her pleasure.

She would shriek “ Oh my god, please, I’m gonna cum,” when her fantasy had gotten her to her peak and even louder and raspier “ I want you to cum with me!” Her (y/e/c) eyes would slam shut as she thought of Damon stroking his cock faster and being pushed over the edge with her. Self hatred would wash over her afterwards knowing she betrayed Stefan but no one but her would ever know.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but feel some relief knowing the man she truly wanted could no longer plague her relationship or mind. Though as soon as her mirror image walked into his room with with a crimson colored bottle that was the cure, (y/n) felt more relived then she ever had in her life. That relief soon ended when Katherine happily announced that Stefan had given himself to Klaus to save his brother.

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

It was a cool fall day in Mystic falls. Four months after stefan left and made it clear he was not coming back. Damon Salvatore sat on his leather sofa reading from dust returned by ray Bradbury getting himself thoroughly into the fall spirit. His favorite time of year. The sound of the crackling fire place and smell of leaves falling outside was the perfect combination for relaxation.

“ Damon! Why aren’t you answering my calls I’ve been trying to reach you for hours?,” Carloline Forbes voice boomed, the door slamming shut behind her.

He looked at her pointedly “ Well maybe I put my phone on silent so I could have a relaxing day without someone needing my help for a mundane task any human could fufill.”

Caroline huffed, “ this is a big deal Damon, Tyler’s mom has the flu so now we don’t have a place for our yearly friend-o- ween party!”

Damon Laughed, “ friend-o-ween? That’s the best you guys could come up with?”

“ We made it up in middle school and it’s cute!,” she argued. “ please Damon no one else can have it at their house.”

He sighed “ fine.”

Caroline shrieked and jumped “yay! I’ll go get all the decorations!”

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

What was supposed to be a relaxing day turned into hours of assisting Caroline in decorating the boarding house until it looked like something out of a movie. The lighting was dim. Orange and purple lights were strung throughout the house giving it a spooky yet enchanting glow. There were real pumpkins, fake pumpkins, spider webs, skeletons and other spooky decorations. It really was overkill but he did have to admit he enjoyed the finished result.

They stood finally finished Caroline grinning. “ This looks amazing. Oh! I forgot about the food! I’ll have Matt bring the snacks by before everyone else gets here. I have to start getting ready. I’m running behind! You better have a costume Damon!” She said so quickly it’d be hard to understand if he wasn’t supernatural. She left slamming the door behind her.

With an hour to go Damon walked upstairs deciding to take a shower before the party. He stripped his clothes and turned the shower on high heat enjoying the steam that filled up his large room. He decided he would just splash some fake blood on himself as a costume and his mind began to wander to (y/n) wondering what she might wear. He liked her sexy nurse costume but it probably had too many negative emotions attached to it after the last time she wore it. Damon felt guilty over what had happened but all he could think about right now was how badly he had wanted her that night. He could have thrown her in a school bus and fucked her for hours he had been so worked up from her anger towards him. His cock got hard at the thought and he moved his hand down his chiseled wet abs and gripped it.

He started to stroke it thinking of what he normally did, memories of (y/n) moaning and cumming. He should feel ashamed or grossed out by the fact it was because his brother was fucking her but he didn’t care. He could easily remember those sounds and pretend they were caused by him. He stroked himself even faster imagining the school bus fantasy. His arm supported him against the glass wall as the other twisted and began to stroke himself faster. He was so close he was going to

“Damon!,” Matt’s voice yelled from downstairs and Damon had never wanted to kill Matt more than in that moment. He lost the coiling feeling in his abdomen and shut the water off quickly. Pissed he quickly threw on pants and a white v neck.

Once downstairs he helped Matt set out all of the food besides the pizzas Caroline was ordering. If only he had showed up one minute later, Damon thought still extremely frustrated. He splattered some fake blood on his white shirt and face. Then put Caroline’s cheesy Halloween music on that she said he HAD to play.

The door opened and he got excited hoping it was (y/n) but to his disappointment blondie appeared with Tyler and witchy. Bonnie wore a black latex bodysuit with cat ears and Caroline was wearing a black lingerie nighty with animal ears as well. “ I see you decide to go as a slutty hamster,” he joked confused by her outfit.

“ I’m a mouse duh,” she said pointing to her ears the reference lost on him.

Bonnie looked at Tyler in his football jersey and Damon in “ blood” splattered . “ I see you two put in a lot of effort,” she joked.

“ if you want me to take it all off all you had to do was ask bon bon,” Damon joked back as she rolled her eyes.

Everyone moved to the kitchen snacking on chips and soda waiting for the pizza to arrive while Damon anxiously waited for (y/n) . The pizza delivery guy arrived before her much to his dismay and Caroline seeing the look on his face added “ It’ll be worth the wait Damon,” as she smiled. He ignored her not knowing what she meant and poured himself a bourbon as they all sat around eating pizza. When the door finally opened Jeremy came in first wearing a black hoodie as usual (y/n) following behind him.

Damon’s eyes bulged and he tried to stop another area from doing the same as he saw her costume. She was dressed like a playboy bunny and it was the least clothed he had ever seen her. Now he really was hating Matt because tonight was going to be torture until he could relieve himself.

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

A few hours later they all sat in a circle on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace, filled shot glasses in front of each of them as Caroline yelled. “ Okay never have I ever, so if you have take a shot! Also no lying.” “ I’ll go first! Never have I ever had a one night stand.” Damon and Tyler took a shot.

Bonnie went next, “ never have I ever kissed a girl.” Everyone took a shot besides Bonnie and learning this new fact about (y/n) was making it even harder on him. Especially since he was trying not to stare all night as is.

Tyler went next “ never have I ever slept with Damon Salvatore,” laughing as Caroline hit him and took a shot.

Matt went next following Tyler’s lead , “ never have I ever fantasized about Damon Salvatore.” Also looking at Caroline. She took a shot.

“ Wow I’m hurt Matt,” Damon joked and noticed out of the corner of his eye (y/n) taking a shot too. He thought he could explode right then. He clapped his hands getting everyone’s attention . “Alright this is dumb, lets do truth or dare, you know there’s nothing I won’t do.” He winked. Since it’s my turn I’ll go first he turned to (y/n) whose heartbeat immediately increased.

“ (y/n) ,” he said slowly. “ truth or dare?”

She figured he saw that she had taken a shot for fantasizing about him and knew he would probably ask about that so in this case dare was the safe option. “ dare.”

Damon smirked, “ I dare you to tell me what you fantasized about me doing.” Her face went red.

“ That’s not how it works Damon it has to be an actual dare,” Bonnie said trying to cock block him like usual.

“ Fine,” he looked at (y/n) who was still flushed “ Then I dare you to kiss Caroline.”

(Y/n) crawled over to Caroline on her hands and knees seductively. Her pink body suit showing off her ass with a cute little bunny tail on it. She sat in front of her moving her blonde curled hair behind her ear and passionately kissed her. Caroline wrapped her hands into (y/n)s hair as they moaned into each other mouths. They pulled away laughing and at this point all the men were slightly hard. (Y/n) crawled back to her spot next to Damon and glared at him. Worried what his dare would be after that so he picked truth.

She acted like she was thinking it over “ have you ever jerked off while thinking about me Damon?” She asked trying to embarrass him, making everyone but Caroline slightly uncomfortable. Only because she knew (y/n) and Damon just needed to bang it out already.

He kept eye contact, “ right before everyone got here I was thinking about you in your sexy little nurse costume. Oh by the way Matt thanks for interrupting right as I was about to cum.”

His answer was followed by a few ewww’s and Jeremy, Bonnie and Matt deciding it was time to go. Now it was Caroline’s turn and she was playing matchmaker “ (y/n) truth or dare,”

“ truth,” she responded nervous yet excited.

“ what is your naughtiest fantasy of Damon?”

(Y/n) froze debating on lying but new the supernaturals would easily be able to tell. Looking down ashamed she responded quietly, “ that he would jerk off while hearing stefan and I ... well you know.”

Damon couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t always stefan after all. Had she wanted him the entire time? Did this mean she was purposefully being loud? Was she always thinking about him when her and his baby bro did the deed?

Tyler interrupted his thoughts. “ Caroline truth or dare ?” He said quickly trying to move things away from (y/n) who was obviously embarrassed.

Caroline’s face lit up, “dare.”

“ I dare you to kiss me.” Caroline moved over to him getting into his lap kissing him their bodies pressing close together as Damon and (y/n) looked at each other awkwardly. Caroline let out a small moan and Damon coughed loudly trying to remind them they weren’t alone.

Feeling turned on from so many of the events that happened today and now knowing how long (y/n) had been wanting him physically Damon looked over to her yet again. “ truth or dare ?”

Her face was flushed from Tyler and Caroline’s show of affection and it reminded her how badly she needed intimacy. Damon was sexy all the time but now with his tousled hair and blood spattered shirt he looked rough and it was making her think about all the times he had gotten bloody to save her. How strong and rough he actually was. She wanted to be closer to him she hoped choosing dare would grant that wish. “Dare.”

He patted his lap “ come sit.” She crawled over to him and took a seat in his lap her back facing his chest and his arms wrapped around her tightly. She could feel the buldge underneath his Jeans and her core tightned feeling him pressed against her. He ran his nose along the inside of her neck and whispered “ your turn.”

She responded the need for him finally taking over. “ truth or dare Damon” she said in a husky tone her face turned towards him looking into his eyes, her need evident.

“ dare.”

“ kiss me,” she dared and without hesitation Damon pulled her face to his forcefully. They moaned into each other’s mouths and Damon wrapped an arm around her and the other in her hair after throwing her bunny ears off of her. Well aware of what was about to happen and in need of release themselves Caroline and Tyler snuck out unnoticed.

Damon pushed (y/n) unto her back hovering above her, their lips always connected. He pressed her body firmly into the floor grinding into her core enjoying as she bucked her hips up to meet his. He moved his mouth to her neck kissing it aggressively. “ I want you so fucking bad (y/n) ,” She trembled underneath him.

“ please Damon.” With that he sat back and ripped off her tiny pink body suit leaving her in a black bra and panty set. She sat up and kissed him pulling away to lift his shirt over his head. He picked her up easily sitting her on the leather couch closer to the lit fireplace. He stood in front of her and she fumbled slightly trying to get his pants off as quick as she could. Her eyes widened when she unzipped his black jeans and realized he was going commando and he was BIG. His large erection sprung out of his pants standing proudly in front of her face. He stepped out of his pants and was going to resume undressing (y/n) but that thought was forgotten about when she wrapped her hand around him and did and experimental tug.

She looked up at him her (y/e/c) eyes meeting his blue as she stuck her tongue out and slowly licked his tip a few times before wrapping her lips around him completely.

“ fuck (y/n) ,” he moaned as she went further down on him, bobbing her head up and down on his length. She began to use her hand stroking what couldn’t fit in her mouth. Damon wrapped his hand around her throat gently pushing her off of him knowing If she continued he wouldn’t last much longer. Using his grip on her throat he pushed her back into the couch and crawled untop of her kissing her passionately. His other hand reached being her back unclasping her bra and she gasped as the cool air hit the newly exposed skin. He began to kiss down her neck his fingers traveling to play with her over her soaked panties. “ so wet.” He moaned against her neck as she began to grind into his hand.

Damon moved lower sucking her nipple into his mouth gently nibbling on it as he slipped his hand underneath her underwear making direct contact with her clit. “Please Damon, I need you inside me,” she cried desperately wanting him more than she thought was humanly possible.

He lifted his head from her breast looking down at her. The need evident in her eyes and ripped her panties off of her. Hovering over top of her he grabbed his member and and ran it along her folds watching as her wetness coated him. Looking down at her biting her lip he asked , “ are you sure you want this?”

“ I’ll always want you Damon,” she replied the sincerity clear on her face. With that Damon slowly guided his head into her. He watched her face as she slightly winced and leaned down to kiss her softly. He moved back and slowly slid farther into her. He kissed the side of her face gently trying to remind himself she hadn’t had sex in months and stefan wasn’t as well endowed as he was. Her tightness was testing his will power but he didn’t want to hurt her.

“ are you doing okay?,” he asked moving his hand down to her clit softly rubbing her knowing it would help her adjust more easily.

She moaned her eyes shut tightly the feeling of him stretching her so far. “ yes,” she lifted her hips trying to show him she wanted more , “ I want all of you Damon.” With that he pulled almost all of her heat and thrusted back in completely connecting them.

“ yes!” She cried out feeling like they were made for each other. He pulled back again and thrust in slow and deep enjoying the look of pleasure on her face. He continued his slow thrusts rolling his hips into her filling her all the way. He sat back and watched as her folds gripped him tightly. The view bringing him closer to his release. Damon sped up his pace slightly pulling out mostly than thrusting back into her using more force than before. He could feel her pussy begin to tighten around him and moved to rest his forehead against hers.

“ I want you to come for me (y/n). ” He sped up his circles on her clit and thrust into her harder and harder his abs tensing trying to hold off his orgasm.

(Y/n) began to tremble underneath him, “ I’m close!” she exclaimed. Her legs began shaking uncontrollably the pleasure like nothing she had ever experienced before.

“ me too ,” he grunted on the edge “ I want you to come with me.” He thrust again softly whispering “ come on baby, come on my cock for me.” Feeling her walls start to pulse around him.

With that she cried “ yes! I’m cumming, Damon yes!”

“ Fuck (y/n) ,” he growled, her walls gripping him harder pulling his orgasm from him as he continued to move inside of her.

They lay there still connected the aftershocks traveling through their bodies. He kissed her before slowly pulling out and rolling off the couch onto the soft carpet in front of the fire place. He patted next to him. “ join me?”

She slowly moved beside him her muscles already sore from her incredible orgasm. He played with her hair as she asked him “ truth or dare?”

“ truth,” he responded not questioning her motive.

“ Do you love me Damon?”

“ I always have (y/n),” he paused “ do you love me?”

“ yes, I always will .” With that he brought her mouth to his sealing their love with that one special kiss.

#Damon Salvatore #Damon Salvatore smut #Damon Salvatore imagine #vampire diaries #vampire diaries smut #smut #vampire diaries imagine #Damon imagine #damon x reader #damonxreadersmut #damon salvatore x reader #damonxelena

[lady-salvatore]

Beauty and the Beast

pairing: klaus mikaelson x reader

desc.: you’re in need of a place to stay, just for a few weeks until you can get an apartment. klaus is happy to provide... but a few weeks can change a lot of things.

You were in your car, trying your best to curl up in the backseat.

Your friends were traitors. Your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend— Damon was cheating on you behind your back, with your best friend Elena, no less. If that wasn’t bad enough, the rest of your friends knew, but didn’t have the heart to tell you.

So here you were, alone in a parking lot in Mystic Falls at night. You let the tears fall down your face. You’d probably get killed before the night was over.

A tapping sounded on your window. You shot up, alarmed.

Klaus Mikaelson stood outside with a smirk on his face, waving.

You rolled down your window. “If you’re going to kill me, at least make it quick.”

“Tempting offer, but I think you’re more useful alive, love,” he purred. “Just in case those pesky Salvatores are up to no good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m done with the Salvatores. So, kill me or leave me to die.”

Klaus pouted. “This is disappointing. Where’s your fire?”

“Got blown out. Long story,” you replied.

He furrowed his eyebrows in what seemed to be genuine concern. “It’s always a pleasure, (Y/N), but these circumstances seem a bit grim. Do tell, why are you in your car at midnight?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was to get a midnight snack?”

Klaus’s eyes burned into yours seriously. “I would not.”

You sighed deeply, realizing that he wasn’t going to leave you alone. “Fine. I’m kind of homeless right now.”

“Come stay with me,” he blurted out.

You were stunned when you turned to him. “What?”

Klaus’s eyes darted around your car. “What kind of man would I be if I left you out here alone? Elijah would kill me.”

“What do you want?” you asked suspiciously.

“Can’t I do something nice without wanting something in return?” Klaus pouted at you. “No strings attached, love.”

You thought about it. On one hand, Klaus was evil, and had killed a lot of people you cared about.

On the other, your car was cold and you didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Just until I’ve got an apartment.”

Klaus smiled. “Fantastic.”

You were brought to Klaus’s Mystic Falls mansion. You had to admit— there were worse places to be, even if your temporary roommate was a murderer.

As the two of you went through the doors, Klaus breathed in deeply.

“There’s a room for you upstairs,” Klaus said. “Follow me.”

Then, he quickly sped off to the second floor.

“Um, human!” you called up the staircase. You felt wind sweep around you, and suddenly you were in a large bedroom.

“Sorry, love,” Klaus said.

You looked around the room. It was beautiful and luxurious, with a ridiculous king-sized bed against the far wall.

“Wow,” you whispered. “You live like this?”

Klaus chuckled. “I figure you’re tired. Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Klaus went to leave.

“That’s it? No innuendos, no passes at me?”

“Why, did you want any?”

“No,” you mumbled. “I just thought it was a given with you.”

He laughed, his dimples showing. He shook his head and closed the door behind him.

Alone, you curled up in your bed and tried to sleep.

The next morning, you were ushered to breakfast by some compelled human.

“What? Where are we going?” you asked as you helplessly went down the stairs.

“Klaus wants breakfast with you,” she replied mindlessly.

“Does he even eat breakfast?” you yelled.

“It’s the most important meal of the day!” you heard Klaus call from the dining room. “Even for pure evil!”

You rolled your eyes as you went through the doors to the dining room. Then, you froze.

“Wow...”

Laid in front of you was a huge buffet— waffles, pancakes, eggs, fresh fruit, and everything else. It was like Christmas.

At the head of the table, Klaus grinned. “Hungry?”

You nodded and sat in a chair, never one to refuse a good breakfast.

“Why all this?” you asked as you took a bite of a waffle.

Klaus shrugged. “I like to entertain.”

You laughed softly. “Well, call me amused.”

“You were right last night, you know,” Klaus said.

You raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“I do want something.” He took a sip from a glass in front of him that you guessed was blood. “I want to know what happened between you and the Salvatore brother.”

You took a deep breath, a knot forming in your throat. “Damon cheated on me. All my friends knew about it and didn’t tell me, so... I left.”

Klaus furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t realize he was that stupid,” Klaus muttered, seemingly to himself.

You smiled a little. “Apparently he is.”

“When you have someone like you, you shouldn’t let them go.” Klaus’s eyes pierced yours in a way that made you blush. “Why ruin something so perfect?”

You looked down at your plate. “It’s kind of you to say that.”

Klaus laughed softly. “Kind. I don’t get that often.”

“You don’t act it often,” you replied. “But you’ve been on your best behavior since you found me last night.”

He smiled, and said nothing else.

That day, you wandered the mansion. It was bigger than it looked. Klaus may have been evil, but he had taste when it came to decor.

Soon, you found yourself outside a drawing room. Klaus was inside, staring at a blank canvas.

“What are you painting?” you asked, going to sit near him.

“Nothing, currently,” he replied, not bothering to look at you. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t have much to do,” you admitted. “So I figured I’d annoy you.”

Klaus smirked. “You’re only an annoyance when allied against me.”

You laughed, and he looked at you.

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Sit over there.”

You moved your stool across from him, barely able to see him behind his canvas.

He narrowed his eyes and went over to you. He gently grabbed your face and moved it around until he was satisfied with the angle.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he went back over to his easel.

“I like the way the light catches your eyes,” he muttered, moving his brush against the canvas. “The colors are just...”

“You’re painting me?”

“You’re the finest piece of art in this house at the moment,” he replied, distracted.

You felt your face heat up. “Didn’t peg you for a liar, Mikaelson.”

Klaus looked at you seriously, like he was studying you. “That’s because I’m not.”

“I wish Damon felt the same way,” you mumbled.

Klaus sighed and continued painting.

“How about you?” you asked. “Any tragic love stories?”

He laughed without humor. “I’ve lived a thousand years, (Y/N). There are too many tragedies to count.”

You smiled, and he painted in silence.

“Where are you?”

It was a week later, and you’d finally answered one of Caroline’s calls.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied. “I’m okay. How are you doing?”

“Missing you,” Caroline said. You could practically hear her pouting through the phone. “Please just come stay with me.”

“I just need a while, Care,” you whispered into the phone, reclining on your bed. “I still love you, and Stefan, and Bonnie... I just can’t risk seeing Damon or Elena right now.”

Suddenly, Klaus came through the door. “What would you like for dinner, love?”

Your eyes widened.

“Seriously?” Caroline screeched. “You’re with Klaus?”

You glared at Klaus. “Care-“

“We are coming to get you, first thing in the morning.” She hung up the phone abruptly.

You sighed. “I know you heard her on the phone.”

Klaus smiled. “They were concerned, (Y/N).”

“So let them be concerned!” you threw your hands up in annoyance. “I can’t go back.”

“I’m sorry,” Klaus said, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m sorry you’re ashamed to be seen with me.”

“It’s not that,” you said. “I just know what they think. I like you, Klaus, as much as I hate to admit it. You’re a good friend.”

His eyes brightened ever so slightly.

“But they don’t know you like I do,” you explained. “They think that all you are is evil. A week ago, I thought the same... but you’re more than that.”

You walked over to him, and softly put your arms around him in a hug. He tensed up before slowly returning the gesture.

After a moment, you pulled back and looked up into his blue eyes.

You pinched his cheeks. “How could I be ashamed of such a pretty face?”

Klaus laughed. “Alright, alright.”

The next morning, as promised, Caroline and Stefan showed up at Klaus’s door, Caroline practically beating it down.

“(Y/F/N)! Get out here right now!” she called between knocks.

You opened the door to see them, Klaus standing beside you.

Caroline and Stefan rushed in, Caroline cradling you protectively and Stefan threatening Klaus.

“Guys!” you yelled, making them look at you. “I’m fine!”

Caroline frowned. “We’re so sorry we didn’t tell you about Damon and Elena. We’re awful friends.”

“We feel horrible,” Stefan mumbled, keeping an eye on Klaus.

“I... forgive you,” you said softly, letting out a breath. “You two didn’t cheat on me.”

Caroline’s eyes welled up with tears as she hugged you. Stefan only smiled.

“But I’m not coming back,” you replied.

Caroline smiled. “Of course not, you wouldn’t want to go back to the Boarding House. You’re coming to stay with me.”

“No, Care,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m staying here.”

Stefan turned on Klaus. “Did you compel her?”

“No, Stef, I’m not compelled,” you told him, pointing to a purple vervain ring on your finger.

“Then why?” Caroline asked, sneering at Klaus.

You sighed, looking at Klaus yourself. “I like it here.”

Caroline turned back to you, a desperate look in her eyes.

“I’ll call you later,” you whispered. “I’ll explain.”

Caroline sighed and smiled. “Okay. Be safe. I’ll beat down this door again if I have to.”

You smiled, and hugged her again. “Thank you, Care. You too, Stef.”

Stefan nodded tensely, and he and Caroline left.

Once you heard Caroline’s car engine fire up, Klaus turned to you.

“Why are you staying?” he asked, eyes dark.

“Like I said, I like it here, Klaus,” you replied, your heart thumping in your chest. “I like you.”

Klaus’s mouth was set in a straight line. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you whispered. “I like you, unfortunately, in every way possible.”

Klaus smiled warily. “How do I know this isn’t just another Salvatore ploy?”

“Compel me,” you said, pulling off your ring.

He grinned, looking deep into your eyes. “How do you feel about me?”

The words fell out of your mouth. “I’m falling for you. I want to stay here with you, because of you.”

You slipped your ring back on your hand. “The way I feel for you is a way I never felt about anyone else, including Damon Salvatore.”

Klaus smiled, and then pressed his lips to yours. You kissed back roughly. After a moment, the two of you pulled away.

“True love,” he murmured sarcastically.

“Tale as old as time,” you replied, a wicked grin on your face.

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