#also the poor woman keeps falling down the stairs and she’s still pushing for the club??? that’s dedication right there

[fandomfairyuniverse]

I LOVE Teacher Bambam she’s just like “the astronomy club isn’t cursed. And even if it IS cursed, it doesn’t matter. I’ll get the kids insurance. It’ll be fine.” Obsessed.

#she really the space weirdos deserve a club and I support it #also the poor woman keeps falling down the stairs and she’s still pushing for the club??? that’s dedication right there #we stan #23.5 degrees #23.5 degrees the series #23.5 the series

[what-i-call-men]

Loyalty

James Patrick March x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of murder, cheating on multiple occasions, some sex mentions, a proposal

Request: from me Fic thought of the night- you become James’ first prodigy because you were in the hotel with your husband and ended up pushing him out the window or something (where he wouldn’t end up in the hotel) and James wants you to carry on his work but you just fall in love with his passion. I’m thinking like housewife in the 60s poisoning her husband or something. Maybe she’s running from the crime scene and hiding in the hotel. Murder suicide and when she wakes up James is just clapping

Picture credit to @copy-of-a-cheeto​

That was it, you were over his stupid screaming and fighting with you and constant harassment over how bad you were at everything. You’d had it. You were on vacation with your husband and this was the last straw after nights of fighting instead of what should’ve been a romantic get away. He currently stood beside the window, looking out to the city, and muttering about how his assistant was so much better than you in bed. It wasn’t something you didn’t know about either but this was the last straw in your book.

With a rush of rage you walked behind him, grabbing an ice pick off the bar and ran it through his back. He gasped at the sudden pain, but before he could turn around to you you were removing the pick and picking him up with the strength of your adrenaline, pushing him head first out the window onto the street in front of the hotel. You leaned out after hearing the thud of his body from the 8-story drop. As you stared down at the body on the street you felt nothing other than rage, but as soon as you turned back to your room you realized that he’s dead and you just killed him. As soon as people figured out who he was you’d be suspect number one.

You hurried to his bag and grabbed the razor out of his toiletries. Killing yourself or your husband wasn’t even the strangest part of the whole affair. The strangest part was you waking up, staring down at your bloody body in the bath tub. At first you didn’t even realize what was happening until you heard slow clapping from behind you in your room. Turning around, you saw a man dressed in a suit with a cane and an ascot around his neck. “That was quite a show deary, I’ve never seen a woman with rage quite like yours.” He said and untucked the cane from his arm to lean against it again. “If you would’ve waited a few more seconds I would’ve offered you my own knife. Or I would’ve even done him in myself.”He gestures to his cane where it unlatched the head to reveal a small dagger.

You looked at him for a second, still at a loss for words until you finally murmured out a “who are you?”. James offered his hand to you to which you took as he introduced himself. “My name is James Patrick March. I built this hotel and I was walking past and heard the commotion. Serves him right for what he did to a beautiful woman like you. He got everything that was coming to him.” James muttered as he looked out towards the window where the body had fallen right off the property but behind the building where no one would see it.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long. He makes it so hard to even carve up a chicken for dinner without imagining it was it throat. He had been sleeping with his assistant for a year but I never went to college so I could never afford leave him.” You muttered as James walked towards the door, beckoning you to follow him. You followed and he nodded for you to continue talking. “He always wanted kids but I was never able to give that to him so he would seek her out in hopes she would provide that for him.” You felt like James was protecting you and made you feel better about what had happened. It was comforting until he placed his hand in yours to lead you down the halls and you felt a wedding ring adorned on his finger.

As the night went on James helped you, making a woman from the front desk carry in the body of your husband and throw him down a chute. He also had Ms. Evers dispose of your body and your husbands things. You soon sat in what you assumed was his room at a dinner table, eating along with him as he spoke about how artful your murder was. How a murder suicide was how he died as well with Ms. Evers and how that never stopped him from killing others. As James spoke, you quickly became enthralled with how passionate he was about death and killing. You didn’t have a weird or gross feeling when he talked about it, only a passionate love for the art of murder.

As days passed James had begun to taking a liking to your intrigue, in his murders. He began to show you the ropes of his preparation towards murder, the gory treasures he took from those he killed. On a trip you two took around the hotel on one of these days, he seemed particularly exited as you followed behind him past the bar and down a flight of stairs. “Mr. March I wanted to thank you for helping me out of my situation.” You spoke towards the man before you as he walked ahead of you.

“It was no problem dearest, I built this hotel as a safe haven for my hobby. A body is the least of its concerns.” He went on as you walked behind him. “May I ask where your wife is?” You asked and he faltered for a moment before stopping his walking and turning to you. “She’s none of your concern dearest.” He said and then continued walking, you falling a bit behind before he moved on to show you the torture chambers in the basement of the hotel. Surprisingly you weren’t weak stomached as he spoke eloquently about everything. Instead you held onto his elbow as he lead you around.

Something still felt wrong with him wearing a wedding ring and yet no talk of his wife or even a hint of her being around him. You’d been with him pretty much all of the last few days and he didn’t even have women’s things in his room to hint she lived there. “I have a surprise for you.” He said and you turned after hearing a door close behind you. Ms. Evers stood with a man and woman being hauled in behind her. “He’s just like your husband. He’s here today with his mistress because they chose to run away together. I thought this might excite you.” James said and the couple was thrown before you, gagged and tied.

You paused for a moment. You saw fear in both of their eyes. This woman was years younger than the man and he had grey littered through his hair. “Is she your assistant?” You spoke to him harshly, feeling the same anger towards your husband to this man now. He looked up at you and nodded. You felt your face grow hot as James slipped something into your hand. You glanced down to see a blade, the one from the top of his cane. Looking back to the man, you stared him down as you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest. His eyes widened and he screamed behind the gag.

Soon after stabbing the woman a few times you ripped the blade out and pointed it at the man. “You ungrateful traitorous bastard of a man deserve the worst and hottest place in hell for treating your poor hardworking wife as if she were nothing! She’s not nothing. I’m. Not. Nothing.” You yelled, punctuating your last words with a stab to his chest. You now straddling his body as blood coated your front. You felt no remorse. You in fact felt relief and you only felt better when James scooped you up and praised you. He ended his praise with a kiss to your lips. One that lasted a few moments as your heart dropped in your chest.

Nothing was really the same after that. James would ring your room every time a new man came in with a mistress and you would show up to their room usually with a knife behind your back. And every time you returned to James with blood splatter across your face and dress he would kiss you and help clean you off. You loved the praise he gave you but you knew you’d become his woman on the side. You’d never even slept with him but you still felt bad every time his wedding band touched your arm.

It wasn’t until he’d invited you to a dinner with him and his wife was there that you had truly met her. “Y/n, dearest, this is my wife Elizabeth.” He said as he gestured to the other woman at the table. She was a major juxtaposition in comparison to him. She was more into the times with her fashion, beautiful blonde hair swept across her face. “I’m so happy you could join us. I wanted to talk to you about your relationship with James here.” She patted a seat near her as James nudged you forwards. You sat nervously beside her, her aura oozing confidence and radiance.

“I want you to know I know everything you do for him and that him and I have an open arrangement for him and i to do as we please. Because I am the living owner of the hotel I keep the name and the legality of what we had, but none of the love he had for me.” She said and placed her hand on yours. “If you’d like to keep him company in the romantic sense I will be all the more supportive of your choice.” She added.

From that night on your relationship with James become more gory. Now instead of kisses and praise. You two would kill together in the hotel, then make love on the sheets stained with the blood of the adulterous couples. James was a rough man but you were just as commanding which he loved. He became so infatuated with killing with you, he invited you to a dinner he had which he coined “Devils Night”. It was his birthday dinner which initially was you and Him alone, but as the years went on he found others he deemed more impressive than you.

These others were alive and he coached them to kill for him in the outside world. It wasn’t until John that you had truly become fed up with these new guests, each one more horrid than the last. When John came around you wanted nothing more than to kill him along with Sally. He took up all of James’ time. You had turned to Elizabeth for comfort which she welcomed with open arms and bare chest. Sure it was taboo to sleep not only with her husband but also with her. It brought a new flame to your existence to find comfort in her arms at your shared loss in the murderous man. It wasn’t until she announced to you she planned to marry again that you grew excited again.

“James will not take it well. I’m telling you now so that you can swoop in to comfort him. I see how in love with him you are and how passionate he is about killing with you.” She said as she lit up her cigarette, the two of you clad in your silk robes as you laid in her bed. “James was never enough to make me happy but he truly will be for you for eternity.” She said and you grinned. That smile didn’t leave your face until James came you to hours after their monthly dinner, his hair a mess and his cheeks red with what was either anger or tears.

You welcomed him into your room with open arms, pressing his lips to yours as you closed the door behind him. He lifted you up and brought you to your bed, muttering quietly about how he didn’t see it coming and how stupid Elizabeth’s man was for choosing her. You shut him up with your lips as you undid his jacket, throwing it on the ground as you began on his button up. He kissed along the column of your throat as you felt the fire ignite in you again. A fire that hasn’t blazed since the 70s when James had found his second prodigy after you.

He set you down and you looked up to him as he paused in thought. “There’s a couple in room 36. Can we go back to how we were?” He asked gently and put his hands on your arms, his wedding ring now missing from his hand. “I’d love to James.” You muttered and leaned up to his lips once more. The couple was no trouble, to murder. You always loved to get the men while he had no problem taking care of the women.

Moments after you were both straddling the bodies, now soaked in their blood and enjoying the adrenaline rush at its peak. You heard James say something but you couldn’t hear him over the buzz in your ears. Looking to him, you egged him to repeat his words. “Marry me. You’re the only one who truly understands me. Better than Elizabeth ever was.” He said and turned to you fully from where he kneeled on the bed. “No one is as good to me as you, you are the best thing to happen to me in this eternal life. You bring light to this dreary eternity more than completing some stupid commandments killings from my lifetime.”

He said and moved over the bodies to you where you just smiled and nodded at him. He grabbed you by the waist, letting you fall back onto the bed into the pools of blood, kissing you fervently as you grinned against his lips. The kiss tasted like so many before, coated in an iron taste and the love of this man before you, but this was different because as he pulled away he smiled down at you. “Let me help you up, Mrs. March.” He offered and you took his hand, butterflies swarming in your chest as he helped you.

#james march #james patrick march #james march x reader #ahs hotel #fic thoughts fulfilled

[weelittleweasley]

Merry Christmas | Fred x Reader

Prompt requested by @n3ssm0nique: Best friends were all that you and Fred were. Right? Or at least that’s what you thought. But will Christmas at the Burrow change things?

Warnings: literally absolute adorable fluff JFC, Fred being adorable, George being George

Word Count: 5.6k words

A/N: I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC IT IS SO FUCKING CUTE My first Fred fic, babeyyy!! Weasley Nation Rise! Just an FYI, we are wholeheartedly pretending that the Burrow didn’t get destroyed for this fic hehe. 

Flashbacks told in italics.

“Thank you for letting me stay with your family for the holiday, Mrs. Weasley,” you graciously tell the woman in the kitchen who hovers over a kettle, brewing you a cup of tea. You sit on a chair in the dining room, keeping quietly to yourself, hands folded in your lap. The sunlight streams in from the window, warming you up, the tip of your nose still chilly from your travels here. The Burrow was still quiet; it was early in the morning when you arrived, expecting everyone to be up, but you should have known better that only Molly Weasley would be up at this hour. Everyone wanted to catch up on their sleep while on holiday from school. 

Mrs. Weasley turned around to offer you the warmest smile, “No need to thank me, dear. You are always welcome in our home. And please, call me Molly.” She pours you a cup of tea in a delicate piece of china that you knew she saved for when guests came in fear that if she used it in her regular rotation of dining wear her children were bound to break it. “Drink up, dear. You must be freezing. The wind is unforgiving this time of year,” she adds, wrapping a blanket around you making you smile at her motherly gesture. 

This year you were spending the Christmas holiday with the Weasleys due to your parents work schedule. They were traveling abroad for work which made you upset that this would be the one year you haven’t spent the holidays together. But when you mentioned in passing that you would be spending the holidays alone this year in passing to George Weasley, he insisted that you would spend it with the Weasleys. You told him that the offer was kind, but you didn’t mind going to your aunt and uncle’s house to spend it with them and your cousins, but George said you would have more fun spending it with his family. Which you knew he was right, so you eventually gave in.

Spending Christmas with the Weasleys also meant more time with Fred which made your heart flutter. You had been best friends with the twins since year three, but you and Fred became especially close in your fourth year. Since then, you two were inseparable. But the more time you spent with Fred, you eventually grew romantic feelings for him. You feared that these new feelings towards Fred would ruin your friendship, so you had kept it all bottled up, knowing that it was best to just stay friends and nothing more. 

As you sipped on your tea, still wrapped up in the blanket Moly gave you, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Molly hovered over the stove again, this time cooking up a large amount of breakfast foods for the many people who would be dining this morning. “Oh, (Y/N)!” Ginny says when she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t know you were coming this early,” she skips over to you, giving you a large hug. You had always taken a liking to Ginny and how outspoken she was. You had to be if you were the only girl amongst the Weasley boys. “Fred! George! (Y/N) is here!” Ginny yells up the stairs. “Wait until they see you. They couldn’t shut up about how excited they were for you to get here. Especially Fred,” she tells you with a wink. Ginny knew about your little crush on Fred after she coerced you to tell her after she told you about her crush on Harry. 

After the words fall out of Ginny’s mouth, you hear bumbling and crashing from up the stairs before wild running down the stairs. “Easy, boys!” Molly yells at them while flipping bacon over in the pan. “(Y/N) is not going anywhere! No need to rush,” she laughs at them before looking at you with a smile. Molly knew how much her boys loved you. She shook her head while laughing, continuing to cook up enough sunny side eggs to choke a horse. 

George saw you first and a beaming smile came on his face. “There she is!” he yells as you laughed, scooping you up in the biggest hug, spinning you around. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he exclaims as you wildly giggle. He places you down gently before looking over at his mother, “Merlin’s beard, Mum, the poor girl is in a straitjacket the way you bundled her up.” George helps you get out of the blanket, wrapping it over your shoulders lightly. “Much better, right? Now you can give people a proper hug,” he teases, hugging you once more. 

“Hey, save some for the rest of us,” a voice calls from behind George. You pull away from George and see Fred patiently waiting to give you a warm welcome. When your eyes meet, your heart instantly starts beating faster and a pink hue makes its way up to your cheeks, warming your face instantly. A small smile dances on your lips as Fred gives you a cheeky grin. “Hey, you,” he winks, making his way over to you.

Fred engulfs you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around similar to George, holding onto you tightly. He puts you down as you beam, hands resting on his shoulders. “Hi, Fred,” you smile up at him, eyes locked on his, allowing yourself to relax under his touch. The joy on his face was evident, his eyes twinkling with happiness and his mouth drawn into a toothy smile.

The two of you just stood there for a moment before George clears his throat, making his presence still known. “Alright, enough of that you two,” he speaks, knowing very well that the two of you had unspoken feelings for the other. George liked using that as leverage against the two of you when he wanted something to go his way. And this holiday, he was going to make sure that the two of you were going to confess those feelings to each other. “We’re glad that you came for the holiday, (Y/N). It’s gonna be wicked time.”

You pull your gaze away from Fred, peeling your hands away from his shoulders, but Fred keeps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug as you smile. This was fine for best friends, right? “I was just telling your mum thank you for having me. I’m excited that I can spend it with my best friends and their family,” you beam as Fred squeezes your shoulders.

“Breakfast!” Molly calls to the rest of the house. With that, you immediately hear footsteps run down the stairs that are unmistakably Ron’s. 

Behind Ron follows Harry, the both of them with major bedhead, still in their pajamas. “When did (Y/N) get here?” Ron asks, raspy with morning voice, rubbing his eyes as he tries to get used to the sunlight.

You shake your head, “Good to see you too, Ronald.” He chuckles as you pull him into a big hug, Ron squeezing you tight. Ron was like your younger brother. He was always pushing your buttons, but in the most playful way possible. “Hey, Potter,” you rustle the other boy’s hair as he laughs, giving you a small hey. 

Everyone gathered around the table, taking a seat and a plate, piling mixed breakfast foods onto it. The sounds of happy munching and forks hitting plates filled the air. Light chatter between siblings and friends ensued as you sat and took in the atmosphere. The Weasleys were always so happy and that’s why you loved the family so much. They always managed to make the best out of whatever situation was thrown at them. No matter how dark times got, they were able to find lightness and laughter. When you first became friends with the twins, you were in a really sad place, always very homesick. But when the twins came into your life, they brought so much joy and hope into your life. Now you can’t help but feel out of place when you are not with them. 

Fred interrupts everyone’s conversations and speaks, “Since (Y/N) is the guest of the house, sorry Harry, you don’t count anymore,” Harry shrugs, “(Y/N) gets to pick what’s on the agenda for today.” Fred sends you a smile and a wink making you lightly chuckle. 

“That seems like a big responsibility,” you say as everyone looks at you. 

But before you can say anything else, Ginny grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair. “I need (Y/N) first to help me with something,” she tells the group. The twins look at her suspiciously, knowing that the youngest sibling was up to something. “It’s girl things. You wouldn’t understand. Right, Mum?” Ginny looks at her mother for support as Molly gives her a thumbs up and wink. “Right then, come on (Y/N),” she drags you to the stairs.

“Ginny, I didn’t even finish breakfast,” you laugh at the girl who has an iron grip on your hand as she pulls up the winding stairs of the Burrow. 

Ginny just looks at you quickly before saying, “Ron can finish your plate. Besides, if you think breakfast was a lot of food, just wait until lunch.” With that, you make it to Ginny’s bedroom as she slams the door behind her. The fourteen year old sits on her bed as you slowly take a seat next to her. “So, are you and Fred gonna get together now that you’re here?” she excitedly ask.

You sigh. You wish it were that simple. “I don’t know, Gin,” you softly smile at her. “Anything can happen, honestly.” Ginny rolls her eyes as you laugh. “Give me your brush. I’ll braid your hair,” you tell her. A bright smile finds it way to her face as she grabs her hairbrush from her desk, handing it to you, turning so her back is facing you. Carefully, you brush out her long ginger hair, pushing it away from her face as Ginny happily sighs. “I’ve always wanted a younger sister,” you tell Ginny honestly. You did feel like Ginny was your sister in an odd, yet comforting way. When you first started hanging out with the twins and Ginny arrived to Hogwarts, she kind of latched herself onto you. At first, you were a little shocked, knowing that Ginny wasn’t like this around most people. But for some reason, she trusted you and you with her. Ginny became your little sister very quickly, always coming to you for advice and guidance when it came to school, boys, and everything in between.

“I always wanted a sister,” Ginny retorts, making you chuckle. “Seriously. It can be so much sometimes with all these boys in the house and it’s just me and mum. It’s always nice when you or Hermione visits. It gives me someone to talk to rather than having to constantly hang out with those bloody idiots,” she rolls her eyes, making you laugh.

From outside the door, you hear a hey! The two of you look at the door as Ginny springs to her feet and opens the door to reveal a Harry and Ron eavesdropping on your conversation. “Get out of here, you stupid gits!” Ginny chases them down the hall as the boys laugh wildly. You laugh at the young girl’s antics before she returns into the bedroom. “Do you see what I have to deal with everyday? Drives me mad.”

Ginny returns to the bed, sitting back down as you start to braid her hair. “Poor you,” you tease. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you braid her long hair, the ginger hair now perfectly styled and swept back from her face. You pat her shoulders, letting her know she’s done as she takes a look in the mirror, smiling at the results. “Like it?”

“Love it,” she looks at you before coming back to sit next to you. “But anyway, I really do hope that you and Fred get together. You’re perfect for each other. And Merlin, he never shuts up about you. It would just make so much sense if you two were together.”

You knew Ginny was right. Fred and you were a match made. The two of you knew how to have a good laugh, but you balanced each other out. He was always there for you when you needed him most. Fred was everything you wanted. But you feared that he didn’t feel the same in contrast to what everyone told you. The fear of rejection from your best friend was a terrifying thought, so keeping things to yourself seemed like the best option. “We’ll see, Ginny. I’m hopeful,” you brush her cheek.

As you and Ginny sat in her bedroom, what you didn’t know was Fred and George were outside, leaned against the wall, eavesdropping on your conversation much more slyly than Harry and Ron. George bumps Fred in the shoulder with a smile as Fred blushes. This just made holiday much more interesting for everyone.

------

The week has gone nothing, but smoothly. Matches of quidditch in the backyard, playing chess, late night bonfires, and long chats all ensued throughout the week and it just made you sad that the holiday would be coming to a close in the upcoming days. You were having so much fun being around the Weasleys and staying in their home. It felt like home to you in a comforting, yet odd way. It felt like you belonged here. Molly treated you like a daughter and Arthur even forgot that you were going to leave at one point, thinking that you had moved in. 

But in all of the fun, you and Fred hadn’t got a moment alone. You knew that George and Ginny both were anticipating when you two would finally make a move. Hell, everyone in the house was anticipating when you two would do something. But within the week the most intimate thing that happened was you waiting to use the bathroom and Fred getting startled that you were outside waiting, him still wet from the shower, towel tied around his waist. The two of you just stared at the both, bright red blushed on your cheeks. “I didn’t know you were waiting for the bathroom,” Fred had said. “You could have just come in. You know you’re always welcome too,” he said with a wink making you gulp. And with a wink he was gone, leaving you shocked and unable to speak.

Tonight was another bonfire, everyone in the backyard circled around the roaring crackling fire. The flames were the only things illuminating everyone’s faces. You looked around with a smile, enjoying the night. Ginny sat disgruntled and mad at Ron who sat in between her and Harry, Harry also a little pissed that Ron couldn’t take a hit that he would rather be snuggled up to Ginny rather than his best mate. You giggled at the sight, sipping on your hot chocolate as Ginny just glared at you. With her eyes, she gestured for you to git next to Fred would was just a seat over from you. George was too busy telling Ron a story about one of he and Fred’s many adventures when they first got to Hogwarts, Ron completely enthralled. Sit next to him, Ginny mouths to you.

Absolutely not, you mouth back, eyes darting to see if Fred was watching you. He just stared at the fire, legs kicked up resting on a log, his hands behind his head. I’m not gonna make the first move.

Ginny rolls her eyes. Just do it, she mouths before returning her attention to George and his story. You sigh, looking at your almost empty mug of cocoa. You look at Fred longingly, wanted to be cuddled up next to him under the blanket that rests on his lap. You imagined being able to rest your head on his shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around you, protecting you as you felt safer that ever. He’d kiss the top of your head before resting his head on yours, enjoying the way your body melted into his. As you get lost in your imagination, you realize that Fred has caught you staring at him. Your breath hitches in your throat and you blush, unable to look away from him.

Fred chuckles and smiles at you softly watching you as you are curled up in a ball on the chair just a few feet away from him. Your lips were perfectly pink and the tip of your nose a little red from the windchill in the air. The jumper you wore was pulled over your hands as you cradled the mug in your hands. You looked absolutely adorable as a small smile was on your lips. Fred sighed as you giggled a little at him. He just shook his head at you jokingly before dropping his left eye in a wink. 

“I’m gonna go get more cocoa,” you announce to the group, but your eyes don’t leave Fred’s as if you were just directing the statement to him, as if you were telling him to follow you. You rise from your chair and make your way inside. There are small whispers being exchanged behind you that sound like words of encouragement as you smile to yourself before going inside. Shortly after, you hear footsteps follow you inside. As you go into the kitchen and pour yourself more cocoa, you turn your head to see Fred beside you. “Hey, tiger,” you tease him.

He laughs at your nickname for him, “Hey, gorgeous.” Your heart flutters, knowing that he’s been calling you that for years, but now when he says it, it has new meaning to you. “You alright?” he asks.

You nod, happily, turning to face him, ignoring the task you originally came in here for. “More than alright. The week has been lovely,” you tell him as the two of you walk aimlessly around the lower level of the Burrow. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you and your family for Christmas. It means the world to me,” you genuinely tell him.

Fred smiles, “Of course. There was no way George and I were gonna let you spend it alone or with some weird family members.” You play with the cuffs of your jumper nervously, a thousand thoughts dancing around in your head about where this conversation was going to go. The two of you come to a halt as Fred speaks, “You mean a lot to me, (Y/N).”

His confession makes your heart speed up. “You mean a lot to me, too, Fred,” you confess to him, looking deep into his eyes. “Truly.”

“I don’t think you quite understand how much you mean to me. You make me feel really happy, (Y/N),” Fred tells you, taking a step closer to him. The two of you were so close that you could hold a magazine between the two of you. You can feel his breath on your cheek as you look up at him, biting your lip gently. “I really don’t know what I would do if we had never met that day at Hogwarts,” he recalls making the two of you chuckle. You remember when you met in the common room, them mid prank on a poor first year student as you had joined in on the prank. From that moment on, Fred was infatuated with you, much to your surprise. “And now we’re on our last year at Hogwarts and I’m just scared that I won’t be able to see you as much as I’d like to.”

Impulsively, you take his hand in yours. “Don’t say that,” you shake your head. “I’ll see you all the time. I’ll make sure of it. I can’t imagine living life without you, Fred, honestly,” you tell him, speaking so raw and genuine from your heart. You wanted to kiss him so badly, comfort him that there was no way he was going to get rid of you. He had you and there was no way that either of you were letting go of the other. You were so deeply connected to other that the notion of losing each other was nauseating. 

Fred smiles gently before looking upward, you following his line of sight. Above you dangles a small bunch of mistletoe. Your heart stops and then starts beating impossibly faster. The both of you look back at each other, a little smile dancing on both of your lips. This was a good excuse as ever to share a kiss, you could just blame it on the mistletoe. “Mistletoe,” Fred breathes out with a light laugh, you joining. “I hate breaking traditions,” he teases you as you laugh. 

“I hate nothing more than breaking a tradition,” you tease back.

Fred looks at your lips and then back at your eyes, waiting for you to do something. Gently you nod as Fred leans in closer and closer. It was like this whole scene was in slow motion as you both lean in, waiting for your lips to collide gently. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after years of waiting and longing. You were going to kiss Fred Weasley.

“Oh, sorry,” a voice interrupts you both as you jerk away from each other. “I didn’t know I was interrupting something,” you look over to see Ron awkwardly standing in the doorway before darting away back to the group outside as the group yells at him, Ron yelling back he didn’t know in defense.

Fred huffs, “What a bloody moron.” 

The moment was gone. It was over. Your chances of getting that kiss from Fred was gone. You both knew it. The two of you looked at each other sadly as you sighed. You gave him a look that said I wanted you to kiss me. He gives you a sorry look as you just stand there for another moment. “Stupid Ron,” you break the silence, making Fred laugh. 

He pulls you into his side, wrapping an arm around you. “Come on, the fire is still burning,” he tells you, walking outside. “I’m not letting you get away so easily, no matter how much of an idiot Ron is,” he whispers in your ear, making you blush. What a flirt.

As you return to the group, everyone stares at you two as you walk back together. “Nothing to see here,” Fred dismisses them all as Ginny groans loudly. Fred pulls you next to him on the loveseat that was outside, not wanting you away from him now that Ron disturbed your moment. “You really are a moron though, Ron.”

Ron furrows his brows and raises his arm in defense. “What’s going on?!” he says, completely confused. Was the boy really this clueless? 

“Oh, you’re bloody joking,” George says, throwing a pillow at Ron, everyone joining in, hitting Ron with a pillow, everyone erupting with laughter as Ron tries to defend himself. 

Although the moment was ruined between you and Fred, this moment was heartwarming as you all picked on Ron before returning to watching the fire burn out.

-----

Two days later, Christmas morning rolled around and Ginny jumped on top of you waking you up, excitedly. “Merry Christmas, you animal!” Ginny hugs you as you groan, slowly waking up. “Mum made pancakes and there’s presents downstairs! Come on, (Y/N)!” she pulls your hands up and out of bed. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you laugh.

Suddenly, every Weasley is up and down the stairs in seconds as everyone takes their usual seats around the table. Arthur proudly shows off his muggle radio and explains that muggles listen to Christmas music this time of year, him tuning it until pleasant music emits from the small box. Molly plates everyone a large stack of pancakes dosed in maple syrup. You watch as Ginny squeals in excitement, sitting herself down next to Harry as you watch with a smile. 

“Merry Christmas,” George gives you a hug.

You smile at your best friend and squeeze his torso. “Merry Christmas, Georgie.” He rolls his eyes at the nickname you coined for him as you laugh. You see Fred at the bottom of the stairs as he makes his way to you. “Merry Christmas, Fred,” you smile.

Fred pulls you into his chest for a bear hug as you sigh in him. “Merry Christmas, darling,” he whispers into your hair, placing a gentle kiss on the top. You can’t help, but blush at the gesture before the three of you take your seats at the table. “Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast? Merlin, mum, you really pulled out all the stops this year,” Fred teases his mother. 

Molly smiles, “This Christmas is special this year so that warrants a special breakfast.” Molly sends a wink your way as she hands you a plate. “Merry Christmas, darling. Eat up.”

Everyone munches on the delicious plate of breakfast food, complimenting Molly on how extraordinary the meal was. And that’s when the presents start to come out. Molly and Arthur hand out presents to each of their children as the impatiently unwrap them. Each Weasley gets a hand knit sweater with their respective initial on them as you giggle as Ron pulls his over his head. It was absolutely adorable that they all had matching sweaters. “And don’t think we forgot about you two,” Molly speaks as she hands you and Harry boxes.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Molly,” you tell her as she insists to open it. When you open it, you see a navy sweater with your initial on the front. “Oh, I love it!” you cheer. “Thank you so much,” you beam. You really did love it, immediately pulling it over your head to wear it over your pajama top.

Molly claps as you do so. “Now, you’re officially a Weasley. No need to marry Fred anymore,” she teases as Fred nearly spits out his pumpkin juice. “What?” she asks. “Did I say something wrong?” You just blush a wild shade of crimson that matches Ron’s sweater as Fred excuses himself, making George let out a wild laugh.

As if the timing couldn’t be anymore perfect, an owl flies through the window with a letter in its mouth. Arthur gets up and retrieves the letter from the owl before it flies away. “It’s for you, (Y/N),” he smiles, handing you the envelope.

You furrow your brows, not knowing who it could be from. You rip open the seal of the envelope and peel the letter open which reads:

Dearest (Y/N),

Merry Christmas, darling. We miss you so much. We are so upset that we cannot be with you on your favorite holiday. But rest assured that we will see you soon after our trip comes to a close. We have beautiful gifts for you from the places we visited and we cannot wait to give them to you. Paris is truly the most beautiful place on Earth.

We hope that you are having a grand time with the Weasleys. Give them our love and gratitude for hosting you. 

We are so proud of you and everything you have done at Hogwarts, love. You are truly remarkable. We love you so much and are so excited to be reunited with you soon.

All the love in the world,

Mum and Dad 

XXOO

“It’s from my parents,” you tell the group with a smile as everyone softly smiles. You look at the Polaroid pictures that they attached in the letter. Your parents are smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Louvre. “They’re in Paris. They send their love and gratitude to everyone. They said that they love me and miss me and they’re proud of me...” you trail off as tears start to form in your eyes. A lump starts in your throat and you become very sad and embarrassed at how you are reacting. You just miss your parents so much. “I’m sorry could you excuse me for a moment?” you ask as everyone nods, completely understanding how you feel. 

You rise from the table and move into another room of the house, letting the tears slowly fall from your eyes. You are sure not to make any sounds, too embarrassed that you’re even crying in the first place. Sucking in a shaky breath, you try to collect yourself, squatting low, burying your head in your hands.

As you breathe in and out shakily, you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. “Hey, shhhhh, come here,” Fred’s voice says as he pulls you into him, as you cry into his jumper that his mum made. “It’s alright, darling, it’s alright.” He sits on the floor as you rest next to him, holding onto him tight as if he would leave you. But Fred wasn’t going anywhere. “I know you miss them, but they are right. They’ll be back so soon. You know that they love you and they’re proud of you. What’s not to be proud of? You’re brilliant,” he tells you, rubbing your back in circling, gently comforting you.

Moment pass and you slowly pull away from Fred, looking at his now tear stained sweater. “Oh, man, I’m a mess,” you wipe your tears away as Fred shakes his head, brushing your hair away from your face. “Sorry about your sweater, I can clean it up.”

“I like it better like this,” he says with a smile. You just laugh at him as you sniffle. “I have something for you,” he tells you as you furrow your brows.

He pulls a small box out of his pocket. You sigh, “Fred, I thought we weren’t buying gifts for each other this year. We said we were saving money to go on a trip after graduation.”

Fred shakes his head, “I couldn’t resist.” You slap his arm teasingly. “Open it.”

You slowly open the small box and your eyes widen. Inside is a small golden locket engraved with beautiful detailing. You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Fred from last year in the common room, laughing on the couch together. The memory brings an instant smile to your face. This was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift anyone has ever bought for you. “Fred, I don’t have any words. This is beautiful,” you tell him.

“You like it?” he asks, nervously.

“Do I like it?” you laugh. “I love it. Thank you so much,” you tell him. “Could you do the clasp?” you ask, turning around and handing him the necklace. Carefully, Fred places it around your neck and clasps the necklace. You hold the locket in your fingers as you smile at him. “Why did you do this?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

Fred nervously gulps. “Because...” he starts. “You know, (Y/N)...like I said the other night...we’re close and I really cannot see myself without you.”

Your heart flutters as you look around only to recognize that you and Fred are in the same spot as you were the other night from the bonfire. Mistletoe dangles above you again and Fred follows the sightline. He stops talking and looks at you. This time no one was going to stop from you from doing this.

In this instant, you lean in and press your lips to Fred’s, connecting you two in a sweet kiss. At first, Fred is a little shocked, but takes no time in kissing you back, his hand cupping your cheek, pulling you closer to him. You hands cup his face as your lips move in sync with each other. His lips taste of syrup and you smile into the kiss. It just felt so right like this was how your first kiss was supposed to go. 

Slowly, you pull away from the kiss, searching his eyes for what he was going to say. But for the first time in forever, Fred is speechless. “I hate breaking traditions,” you tease him, making him chuckle. 

Fred shakes his head and kisses you again, this time more excited and passionate. His arms wrap around you, letting you know that you aren’t going anywhere. You were his now and there was no way he was letting you go. Not like you wanted to. This was home. The kiss is gentle, but loving and passionate. Your heart is beating so fast and your mind is reeling. This felt like a dream. 

You pull away again from the kiss, pressing your forehead against each other. “Just so you know,” Fred speaks, “I was going to kiss you whether there was or wasn’t mistletoe.” You giggle at his antics, knowing that he was telling the truth. “This does mean you’re my girlfriend now, right?” he asks, genuinely asking, making you laugh.

“I hope so, Weasley,” you tell him. “That’s my present to you.”

He jokingly pumps his fist in the air. He places a quick kiss to your lips again. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he whispers to you.

Smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt, you whisper back, “Merry Christmas, tiger.”

Fred pulls you up from the floor, giving your hands a squeeze. “And now to face the taunting,” he warns you. “Be prepared. But on a brave face. This is just the beginning. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into dating a Weasley.”

The two of you emerge back into the dining room, hand in hand making Ginny cheer and George stand up, clapping. “It’s a bloody Christmas miracle!” he yells, making you laugh as Ron just sits there, absolutely lost at what is going on, mouth full on pancakes. You blush wildly as Fred pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “Welcome to the family!” George mockingly yells, embracing you and Fred in a dramatic hug.

In this moment, you have never felt more at home. It was the most wonderful Christmas you had ever had and you couldn’t wait for more.

#fred weasley #fred and george #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x female reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

[wiener-soldiers]

so, you’re real - tommy shelby

summary: while high off his ass, tommy shelby is approached by a mysterious woman offering him something more valuable than drugs: information. your services become essential to how tommy conducts business, but your anonymity means he can’t help but fall in love with you from a distance.

words: 5.4k

pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader (race non-specific)

warnings: tommy shelby. that’s the warning.

a/n: first tommy fic :D he’s one of the most beautifully complex characters ever in television imo but that also means his kinda nightmare to right. so,,, he might come off a little ooc because he’s very soft!tommy in this. i also wanna write a tommy fic based off ‘why’d you only call me when your high’ by arctic monkeys for obvious reasons.

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Tommy Shelby could count the number of people who’s seen him high as a kite on opium with three fingers. Arthur was the first; he drukenly stumbled into Tommy’s room instead of his own one night and the smell of the pipe sobered him enough to start asking questions. Tommy shoved him out and by the morning, Arthur was too hungover to remember a thing. The next was Polly; Tommy stumbled down the stairs as he was high around three in the morning once as he searched the house for more booze. Polly watched from a distance as he sat himself on the kitchen table and wept, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears with his hands. She chose not to mention it the following morning, but a perscription for morphine found its way to Tommy’s desk a few days later.

The third person... was you.

You didn’t know the Shelby’s personally. You were the assistant of a local Small Heath accountant that dealt with Birmingham’s most infamous clients: local coppers, factory owners, politicians, even gangsters. Your boss was known as the Devil’s Safe—nothing that came in went ot without the client’s consent.

But you weren’t a saint. Being so close to his office at all times and knowing far too much about where the most influential people in Birmingham got their money and where they spent it, it was nearly impossible to keep your mouth shut.

So, you didn’t. At a price, of course.

You quit your job and created a small network of spies that could feed you information about anyone or anything at anytime, using your knowledge about the Devil’s Safe as leverge. You charged whoever could afford for your services, coppers and criminals alike. Some self-righteous copper tried to shut you down once. Keyword: tried. There were too many spies all over the city to try to arrest (that is, if he could find grounds to arrest them), and you were too important to too many important people that arresting you would likely have him assasinated.

That, and you tipped him off about a corrupt police captain who had been trading orphans for cash. It got him a promotion and you a protective shield over your dealings from the coppers.

Tommy first met you at the races. You were hanging off the arm of Roberts, Billy Kimber’s advisor, and he briefly caught your eye before returning his gaze to Grace who stared at him lovingly. He didn’t know it then, but you were analyzing him. His posture, his facial expressions, how he spoke to Kimber, and most importantly, his books that Roberts happened to have a copy of. Nothing went unnoticed by you. The Shelby’s were starting to cause ruckus all over the city and you were interested. But, to maintain your facade, you snuck a few kisses to Roberts’ neck to distract him from your snooping.

When Tommy returned to the table with the bag of cash his brothers had collected from the Lees, you were gone.

---

The second time he sees you, he isn’t even sure if it’s you.

It’s late at night as he approaches The Garrison when he notices Polly standing with another figure in the alley. He slows his steps and silences his breathing, trying to catch the end of your conversation.

“You’re sure this is where she is?” That’s unmistakingly Polly’s voice.

A soft chuckle rips through the air and Tommy suddenly wonders what your voice sound like. “There’s only so many women carrying a newborn and looking that terrified of what may be behind her,” the other voice says. It’s not soft or angelic, Tommy notices. Nothing likes Grace’s. It’s deeper, smoother, and he can almost hear the smirk in her voice.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Polly asks back skeptically. Tommy has the common sense to realize she’s talking about Ada who had gone into hiding after Freddie was arrested. Polly hadn’t been able to stay in the same room as him for very long since.

You pull out another envelope from your coat and teasingly dangle it in front of her. “Here’s the list of all of Ada and Freddie’s known addresses. The Communists have them move every few weeks; the address I gave you is Ada’s current address. Go there tomorrow from seven to nine in the morning. Ada’ll still be in bed and Karl will still be asleep. Then, you’ll know I’m right, you’ll give me the full payment, and I’ll give you the rest of the addresses.”

Tommy is slightly stunned at what he’s hearing. They had been trying to look for Ada for nearly two weeks to no avail, but this woman was able to find her that easily?

The woman turns to walk away before Polly can respond and in the street light, Tommy can make out the outline of your face. It was so brief that he couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he imagined your face in the darkness.

Polly doesn’t notice him as she makes her way back inside the pub. The following afternoon, Polly is pounding on his office door saying she’s found where Ada had been hiding.

---

The third time he sees you, he’s sitting in the empty Garrison with a bullet wound in his shoulder, whiskey coursing through his veins, enough meloncholy and anger to swim in, and a broken heart.

Billy Kimber was dead. Campbell was gone. But, so was Grace.

It was a series of emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time: relief, then anger, then happiness, then frustration. Then the shovels started. Then, it all got too loud and he slipped his opium pipe into his coat pocket before going to The Garrison to drink his sorrows away. He had never taken the pipe out of his room before. In that state, he didn’t care.

He doesn’t really know how you got in; he had angrily yelled at everyone to leave the bar when the night was late enough for him to feel emotion and locked the door behind him. Maybe I didn’t lock the door right, he thinks. In reality, you had picked the lock.

“I could’ve told you she’d been working with him,” your voice calls behind him. He’s still hunched over his drink, the pipe lying next to a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. He didn’t need her to clarify who she was talking about.

“You could’ve, eh?” Tommy mumbles dangerously. He felt light, but his eyes and his heart felt heavy. He hated the feeling. Oh god, he hated it.

“Hmm,” you hum back, taking a seat next to him. You reach behind the bar and pull out a bottle of gin and poor yourself a drink. Tommy watches you do so. You don’t look like you pity him, in fact, you don’t even look at him. Instead, you focus your attention on the drink.

After taking a sip, you reach into your coat jacket and pull out an envelope, slidding it over to Tommy. You had clearly seen the opium pipe that still had smoke coming out of it, but you gently pushed it out of the way so the envelope rested in front of Tommy’s drink.

“What is this?” he asks, still too high to think straight.

“Consider it a resume,” you quip back, taking another sip of your drink as you study the collection of liquor and spirits on the back shelf of the bar.

“For what?”

“My services.”

“You a fuckin’ whore? You think that’s what I need right now, eh?”

“What I think you need right now, Mr. Shelby, is a sense of security. To be ahead of the enemy. I can give that to you,” you reply smoothly, barely flinching. Tommy notices your voice doesn’t falter even at his jab. He begins to sober up, finaling looking at you.

You had an air of mystery and intrigue. Your eyes looked all-knowing and the corner of your lip was quirked. A white blouse was tucked into a deep red skirt with your black wool jacket overtop of it all. If he was a different man, he surely would have taken you home.

“Why are you telling me this?” he finally asks.

You look back at him, the smirk on your lips growing. “Because I quite like your family. Polly is quite intelligent and Ada is a delight. I also know far too much about you, so it’d be a shame if someone paid be good money to tell them everything there is to know about you. But if you came to me first, there wouldn’t be much of an issue. The rate for ratting out one of my clients is ridiculously high.”

So, it had been you with Polly that night, he thinks. “You’d work for me?” he asks again, tone getting more serious. The last time a woman worked for him, it didn’t end particularly well.

You laugh and Tommy is momentarily stunned. It’s a beautiful laugh that appeared in an awful moment. “I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby.”

And then you left. Tommy stares a the door for a few minutes after you’ve left, wondering if he had imagined your visit the whole time. When he turns back to his drink, the envelope you left behind is a sign that you had been real. He hesitantly opens it and his jaw unhinges at the contents inside: there were several documents, reports, and even pictures tying Grace Burgess and Inspector Campbell together. It seemed so plain and simple once it was laid out in front of him.

Under the flap of the envelope was an address as well as a rate of service. It was high, Tommy couldn’t deny it, but he also couldn’t deny how the pressure on his chest eased for a moment when he was with you. Even more so when you had left the address.

The next morning, a wad of cash from Shelby Company Limited shows up at one of your drop locations. It’s more than you asked for and quicker than you expected it to come. You smirk softly and get to work.

---

Tommy doesn’t see you again until he pays a visit to Sabini’s club a few years later as he works on his London expansion. He had been a client of yours for nearly two years now and he was continuosly impressed with your work. You literally had eyes everywhere; there wasn’t a place between Manchester and Brighton that you couldn’t get to. You had been the one feeding him inside information about Sabini’s operations in London, as well as how to get Alfie Solomon’s attention.

Despite all this work, he hasn’t seen you since you approached him when he was high in the empty pub. He gets all his information through courriers, telephone calls from messengers, and packages from drop locations all over the city. He asked a courrier once why he hasn’t seen you since.

“No one really sees her, sir. We just get orders in one way or another, we excecute them, and then money shows up. She doesn’t want anyone to tie her to her clients or the boots on the ground.”

“She’s clever.”

“She’s bloody brilliant, is what she is. She’s set up this system so bloody tight that no one really knows how it works except her. One lad up in Coventry tried to turn her in. Went missing a few days later.”

He doesn’t think about you often, but when he does, he’s reminded of that night in The Garrison; how mysterious and beautiful and dangerous you looked, how his chest seemed less tight with you around. Maybe he’s imagined it. Maybe it was the opium clouding his vision. So, he pushes those thoughts away because as far as he’s concerned, you’re an enigma.  Hell, he doesn’t even know your name and he’s been paying you big money and giving away too much of his plans.

But he sees you that night when he and his brothers storm Sabini’s club. You’re sitting on a fancy velvet lounging chair, tucked under the arm of what Tommy assumes is a wealthy banker or socialite. You don’t see him (not yet, at least) but Tommy sees you. All Tommy sees is you. The smoke that flows out of your nostrils as your lips curl at whatever attempt at humour then man with you made draws Tommy in. So does the cut of your deep blue, satin dress. He knows it then, that you’re real. That you’re not a figment of his imagination.

“This place is something else, innit?” Arthur remarks as they make their way deeper and deeper into the club. Tommy is still drawn to you as his brothers gawk at the permiscuous behaviour around them.

The party atmosphere doesn’t last long however, as the boys make a show out of trashing the place. Tommy makes sure to put on a performance, to play up the fear. When he shouts something along the lines of being on a holiday, he happens to catch your eye and the first thing he notices is the smirk playing on your lips. He’s first confused as to why but he understands: you had a large part of the London expansion and you also likely knew that Tommy was going to be there that night. You weren’t there with a man. You were there to see him. You were there to see his reckoning.

The image of you tattooed itself onto Tommy’s brain and the feeling he felt in his chest was something he craved to feel again.

---

The next morning, the brothers stumble into Ada’s home, uninvited. Their younger sister begrudgingly lets them in, still clad in her nightgown, and hastily tells them to keep their noise level down as Karl was still sleeping.

It doesn’t last very long.

“You shoulda seen their bloody faces, Ades!” John hollers, mouth full of biscuits and tea. Ada hisses at him for spewing food across the table.

“Didn’t know what was coming, the lot of them,” Arthur adds, already taking a sip from a flask. He was barely sober from the night before and it wasn’t even eight in the morning. “Fuckin’ Sabini, Ada. He won’t know what’s bloody comin’.”

“Sabini, eh?” Ada plays along, still slightly annoyed but now intriguied. “You didn’t happen to hit up his club last night, did you?”

“’Course we did!” John snickers. “What’d you think we’d do, start small?”

Ada’s facial expression suddenly changes into one of slightly more concern. Arthur and John don’t notice, but Tommy does. “I was hopin’ you would,” Ada plays it off but Tommy notices.

“Ada?” he asks, voice stern but eyes curious. His sister was intelligent, so much so that her mouth was as good at getting her out of trouble as it was getting her in it. Tommy was sure that there was more than what she let on.

“Tom?” Ada says back, not meeting his gaze and instead taking a bite out her toast and jam.

“Why’re you so hung up on Sabini’s club?” Tommy asks  directly, slowly getting tired of his sister’s semantics. He mommentarily understands how Polly feels when he keeps things from her.

Ada sighs, having also attracted attention from her two other brothers. She sets down her toast and looks directly at Tommy. “You saw her, didn’t you?”

“Saw who?” Arthur asks, booming voice too loud for the sudden change of tone in the room. Ada grimaces but still stares at Tommy.

Tommy knows exactly who she’s talking about. But he wonders how Ada does.

“I did,” he says simply.

“Who’re you talkin’ about?” John asks next, looking between his siblings. Arthur shrugs at him.

“Did you say anything to her?”

“No.”

“Good,” Ada says too quickly. Tommy narrows his eyes at her.

“For God’s sake!” Arthur says again, slamming his tea cup back down onto the table. “Who in the bloody hell are you talkin’ about?”

Ada rolls her eyes and continues eating and Tommy is left to stare at his brothers. He wants to answer. He wants to answer so badly. But he doens’t even know her name.

“I—” Tommy trails off. He’s rarely rendered speechless, but he is when it comes to you. Who were you? Why did Ada know you? Why can’t he get you out of his head? Why does he hope you’re standing there in the shadows every time he steps out on the street?

“You? You what, Tom?” John asks this time, equally as exasperated.

“He doesn’t know and it should stay that way,” Ada says simply. “She offers you a service, you pay her, end of transaction. Stay away from her Tommy, I mean it.”

“What service?” John asks again, still getting more questions than answers.

Tommy sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “After Grace, she offered me a service. Cash in exchange for information. Said she knew that I needed a sense of security.” She was right, Tommy thinks but doesn’t dare say.

“Information about what, exactly?” Arthur asks, voice dropping an octave as he leans forward.

“Everything. Anything and everything. She knows everything. I don’t have the slightest clue how,” Tommy answers honestly, his own disbelief being obvious for the first time.

“She can betray us...” John warns, skeptical especially after Grace.

“She won’t,” Ada says simply.

“How do you know?” John challenges.

“She won’t,” Ada reaffirms with a glint in her eye. John immediatley backs down. Ada doens’t trust easily, especially after Freddie.

Tommy believes her. You know too much, far too much. More than he or you had bargained for. You also gave too much. Tommy asked for one thing, you gave him what he wanted and more. Tommy wanted a brief description of the shipping business in Bristol, you gave him an itemized list. Tommy asked you to keep an eye out for any potential threats, you gave him incredibly precise weekly reports. He asked people what your service was like as if he didn’t already know himself: you were never this thorough. He knew you wouldn’t betray him because you would have done it already. The question is, why did Ada trust her?

“You know who she is, don’t you?” Tommy asks his sister once again, doing his best to intimidate her. It’s no use.

“I do,” Ada says simply.

“Even her name?”

John scoffs. “You don’t even know her bloody name and you’ve got that look like you’re in love? Jesus, Tom! You need a good fuckin’, I’m telling you.”

Ada ignores her brother’s comment. “Even her name.”

Tommy gestures for her to elaborate and Ada hesitantly continues, “Polly paid her to find me after Karl was born. She found me personally, not through a messenger. We got along quite well, she was very honest about what she’d been hired to do. She gave Polly that information she was looking for, but we kept in touch. Personally, I mean. I like her.”

“Tell me her name, Ada.”

Ada makes a face of fake appeasement. “Can’t do that, sorry Tom.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches. “Ada...” he warns.

Ada’s glare mathces his own. “Her identity is all she’s got Tommy. The minute a client knows who she is, it all falls apart. For the love of God, for your safety and hers, don’t find her.”

And hell, does Tommy want not to listen. He wants to find you again. To see you. To speak to you. To learn your name. To feel the weight in his chest lighten once more.

But you remained impossible to find. Even with his London expansion, he wasn’t any closer to finding out who you really were than the day you first spoke to him at The Garrison.

So, he tried to push his thoughts away. He didn’t get so lucky.

---

He was used to receiving messages from you on Sunday evenings before the week began and Thursday mornings before the week ended. Sometimes, they’d be in the form of a phone call from a messnger reading a message written by you. Other times, he would visit a drop site where he picked up parcels of information and evidence you had collected. Fridays were paydays, so he’d get a Blinder to drop a parcel of cash (though they never knew it was cash) at a drop site and wait for a courrier with a blue ribbon pinned under the lapel of their overcoat to retrieve it.

All your foot solidiers and clients wore the ribbons. You avoided paper trails so everything was with symbols. Ribbon colours were a discrete way for both the client and the courrier to tell who was who. Clients wore white ribbons, courriers wore blue ones, messengers wore green ones, and red ones were used for emergencies.

That’s why Tommy panicked when a man burst into his office late at night the day before he was set to take down Sabini, urgently lifting his lapel to show his red ribbon.

“What’s happened? Are we in danger?” Tommy asks immediatley, standing up from his chair.

“No, sir,” the foot soldier said. They were never allowed to say the names of clients, only sir and ma’am. “I have a message from her. It was urgent and couldn’t have waited until Thursday.”

The man gives him a sealed envelope before bowing and leaving as quickly as he came. Tommy checks to make sure that he is alone before ripping it open. It wasn’t a message, but a phone number and the word clairvoyant scribbled quickly with fancy ink.

Tommy furrows his eyebrows but picks up his phone and dials the operator. The other end picks up immediately. He hastily says the number he wants to be patched through to as well as the word scribbled below it. The operator says nothing else and he hears the phone ring again before a female voice finally picks up.

“Mr. Shelby, I was waiting for your call.”

It was you. Tommy’s heartbeat quickens. You continue to speak, oblivious to his shock, “I don’t make calls myself unless absolutely neccassary. You don’t need to worry about privacy; I have connections with the operating center that patched you through. They won’t say a word to anyone, telling them that you called and they won’t be listening.”

Truthfully, Tommy hadn’t even been thinking of that. He was still slightly shocked that he was hearing your voice, the same voice as nealry three years ago. The opium fucked with a lot of things, but not his sense perception. Your voice was as beautiful as he remembered it to be.

He forces the thoughts out of his head and finally speaks. “What’s happened? Is there an emergency?”

“You aren’t safe at the races tomorrow. There will be an attempt on your life.”

Tommy is not entirely surprised. “I’m sure you can put two and two together; what I plan to do at the races is practically a suicide mission, dear. Of course there’ll be an attempt on my life.”

You scoff at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll rephrase: you may succeed in your plan tomorrow, but something will catch you off-guard. Something big.”

“What is it, then? If you’re so sure,” Tommy challenges, but is taken aback by the silence.

You sigh, defeated at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll be honest. An Inspector Campbell approached me this morning, asking for my services to give him everything I knew about you plans tomorrow. I took his money.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches. “You called me to tell me you’re a fuckin’ conspirator against me now, eh?”

“I resent that. There’s a reason I ask you not to tell me anything about your business aside from what I need to know to do my job,” you snap back. “Campbell gave me money to tell him information I didn’t have. So, I took the money and told him lies. He didn’t pay enough money to turn me against one of clients anyway and I don’t negotiate.”

Tommy laughs in slight disbelief, “You clever bloody woman.”

You can’t help but grin at the other end of the line. “He let it slip that he had something planned, though. That you weren’t getting out of this alive. Thomas, I don’t know what and I don’t have enough time to find out, but you needed to know,” you say before soflty adding, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you.”

Tommy nods solemnly before saying, “That’s the first time you’ve called me Thomas.”

You laugh and Tommy’s heart clenches at the sound. “Is that what you choose to focus on?” you ask, amused despite your worry.

“I’m not afraid of death. Not anymore,” Tommy answers.

“It’s a shame. There seems to be a lot in your life that’s worth living for,” you reply, your voice softer that Tommy’s ever heard it.

“Will you do me one final favour? Take it as my dying wish.”

“Thomas—” you start before he cuts you off.

“Can you tell me your name?” he finally asks, but he’s met with silence. He clears his throat and adds, “Please?”

You sigh at the other end. This is not how you were supposed to conduct business. Anonymity was the only thing keeping you from being excecuted at the hands of the Crown or a crime-boss. But here the feared Thomas Shelby was, asking as his dying wish to know your name. You don’t know him aside from your brief interactions and stories from Ada. But strangely, you trust him with the key keeping your identity safe.

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”

---

The following evening, Tommy trudges home covered in mud and blood. His encounter with the face of death was anticipated, but still left him scarred. Despite his success against the races and against Sabini, he felt trapped. With a success in the business, he still finds himself indebted to Winston Churchill. He’s exhaused of this cycle and in the moment, he embraced his fate just a little.

As he pushed the door to his home open, his eyes are immediately drawn to crackling fire. He hadn’t expected anyone to be home, as the family was staying in London with Ada to celebrate their successes.

So the sight of you, sitting on his couch and staring into the fire shocked the life back through him.

He takes of his hat and stares at you in slight disbelief. “So, you’re real.”

You turn to face him and the tension previously present in your features fell and the corner of your lip quirked upwards. “You’re alive,” you state the obvious.

“The Devil’s tried too many time to kill me, I’m starting to wonder if God does exist,” he says plainly, taking off his coat and taking a seat on the other end of the couch from you.

A small laugh escapes you. “He has jokes, does he?”

Tommy smiles softly but shakes his head and stares at you. “You’re really real. I was starting to think I was imagin’ ya.”

“Ada says you’ve been asking about me.”

“I have. She wouldn’t tell me your name, though.”

“You got it anyway.”

“Who’s to deny a man his dying wish?” Tommy darkly jokes again.

“I can’t go back to operating how things were. Even you knowing my name is too much,” you say softly, turning back to the fire. You were slightly frustrated with yourself. Years and years of building a network built around your anonymity destroyed by one man. Deep down, you felt that it was time.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tommy says simply.

“But you’d want to be in my life,” you say back, still not looking away from the fire. “I’m a woman, but I’m not stupid. I know why you tried to look for me.”

Tommy sits back and watches her. A woman’s never been more direct with him before. Even Grace, who had just asked him to lay with her one final time before moving back to America at the races, had never laid out what she saw so simply and bluntly before. She was right. Tommy wouldn’t tell anyone your name if you asked him to, but he would still want to see you. The only thing more painful than not knowing who you were was knowing and still not being able to see you.

“You could start again,” Tommy says. He barely recongizes the softness in his own tone, but he decides the change is good. “You could work for me, have your men join the Blinders if they wanted.”

“I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby,” you say again cheekily, reminding him of the first time the two of you spoke. You turn to face him and stop to admire his beauty—how the fire cast beautiful shadows across his face, how the moonlight sparkled in his eyes.

“That you don’t,” Tommy hums in agreement, still looking at you. His gaze hadn’t left you since he came home.

It’s silent for a few moments before Tommy says, “Stay.”

“With you?” you ask in slight surprise.

“With me, in Small Heath, with the company—whatever you want. Just stay.”

“You barely know me.”

“Then let me get to know you, Y/N,” Tommy answers, finally saying your name for the first time. He loves the way it spills off his tongue and you equally adore the sound of his voice when he says it.

You nod softly, agreeing with his hearfealt proposition. The two of you spent the rest of the night staring into the fire, allowing your heartbeats and breaths come into sync as you slowly fell asleep.

---

It’s been five years since you had started working for Shelby Company Limited as Tommy’s senior advisor and security specialist, four years since your network of spies had merged with the Peaky Blinders, three years since you and Tommy got married, two years since you gave birth to a set of twins named Benjamin and Mae Shelby, and one year since you had also become a political advisor to your husband and his allies in Parliament.

With your years together, the Shelby family found you to be an intriguing, fascinating, and intimidatingly wonderful woman. They couldn’t comprehend how right you seemed with Tommy. They also couldn’t comprehend how involved you were in their success without them even knowing who you were. However, they love to poke fun at Tommy for basically falling in love with from two interactions.

You were currently at the Arrow House doing the final touch-ups to your makeup for the gala you were hosting in your home. It was a typical charity ball that made sleezy politicians look good in the eyes of their constituants, but you had pressured Tommy to allow you to host it on behalf of the Shelby Family Institute. He had been skeptical, but relented when you reminded him that it wasn’t about giving them a platform to look good, but using their ego to benefit the institute.

“I’ve put the children to bed,” Polly announces as she walks into the master bedroom. The room is obscenely large with a king sized bed in the middle, but Polly can’t help but feel pride every time she visits. It was the both of your hardwork that you got you here and she was proud. “Ben passed out almost immediatley, but you’re right about Mae. She’s a trouble maker.” 

You give Polly a smile through the mirror of the vanity you sat in front of, “Thank you, Pol. Really.”

“Where’s that bastard husband of yours?” Polly jokes as she stands behind you, inspecting her pearls in the mirror.

“His study, no doubt,” you joke with a slight smirk.

“The faith the two of you have in my is astounding,” Tommy says sarcastically, immerging through the en-suite dressed in his tuxedo.

Polly rolls her eyes and leaves the room, leaving the couple to stare at each other.

“You clean up well, Mr. Shelby,” you state, smiling as he approaches you. “Though I’m not sure if that’s because of you or your OBE.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I should have continued loving you at a distance,” he comments humourously.

You laugh—a real laugh—and wrap your hands around his neck while his arms immediately find themselves around your waist.

“How’re you feeling, darling?” Tommy asks, referring to the mental and emotional preparation for the event that was about to start downstairs.

“I’m not the biggest fan of a lot of your colleagues, Tom,” you say honestly. “Their wives however...they give me thousands of pounds worth of information every sentence.”

“You never cease to amaze me with that mind of yours,” he tells you honestly.

“And you never cease to amaze me with how verbally affectionate you can be,” you quip back lightheartedly before Tommy softly kisses your lips.

“How ‘bout this?” he says once you pull away. “I take care of getting donations, you take care of getting more leverage on the labour bill I’m looking to pass.”

“Done,” you say with a smile before Tommy kisses you again. You begin to hear cars pull into the driveway when you try to pull away, but he keeps you close.

“Tom,” you giggle, breathless. “Tom, the guests are arriving.”

“I’ve waited for you for years, they can wait for you a little while longer,” he replies with a smirk before kissing you deeply once again.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby fic #peaky blinders fic

[meryamthebadassbitch]

𝕯𝖎𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖆𝖚𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊 & 𝖈𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖘// 𝖆 𝕵𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖐𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

Listen, bitch, is it fucking bad that I am addicted to 'Daddy Issues by the neighbourhood suddenly got a whole ass fanfic idea on my mind, so here fucking I am, thank you so much for the likes in my other disgusting fanfics and if you would like to share this one with your friend I would be happy since my mother told me if you have more than 55 likes on the next, I'll buy you a BTS t-shirt, I'm NOT FORCING YOU GUYS LOL, thank you and enjoy! oh, I'm planning on writing a Levi book on Wattpad tell me your opinion @meryamchaline45

Based on a song called: Daddy Issues

Warning: Blood, smoking, sexual harassment, daddy issues, mention of death, slight smut, harassment, Thief!Reader, Skategirl!Reader, abuse, abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST, swearing!!

abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST!!

(IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF, DON'T READ!! don't report this please you have been warned)

Munching the food quietly she thought of nothing but how Seoul looked beautiful at night, a small scoff escaped her lips as she paid for the delicious food, looking at her wallet sighing, no money left. Taking her skateboard she stole a cap and a mask on her way out her E/C eyes immediately wide at the sound of the cashier yelling at her with a bat in his hand about to catch, slamming the door open she ran down the stairs not looking back, the cold breeze hitting her face as she ran grabbing her skateboard she skated between the cars so the man wouldn't catch her.

Her father grabbed her harshly by the hair followed by her skateboard and bag in the other hand, throwing her out of the house in the middle of the streets, every neighbor not even daring to welcome her even though they could see the pain and fear in her E/C eyes, but worst of all they still dared to watch and film her out of the window, I know it must be rough? damn, right it is.

Jungkook was hanging out with his group as usual and it seems like they got out of the café, but stopped brutally upon noticing cops chasing a H/C haired girl and grabbed her, slamming her face harshly against the car in front of them, a wince left the girls lips as she raised her hand in the air as she yelled out some words "it's a water bottle, please !" but the cops didn't seem to care since they cuffed her and decided to take her with them, as they turned around the girl cold eyes met Jungkook's dark brown ones, and that was his opportunity to study her face, she had beautiful H/C hair which was pretty messy, S/C skin, and had blood running down her nose and a cut on the corner of her soft lips, and it seems like she got into a fight for what? a bottle of water.

Watching the scene happening in front of them he stared as one of the cops broke her skateboard in half earning a bloody scream from her. "NO! how dare you!" she yelled with rage in her eyes as she was about to attack the police officer and punch the hell out of him but couldn't since the handcuffs stopped her from doing so but still the girl fell on her knees trying so hard to grab hold of the broken skateboard.

Sitting in front of the police officer she stared into nothing but emptiness; blinking ever so slightly her throat dry and didn't even dare to ask for water, "can I leave?" she asked her voice cracking as she sat on the chair, wanting to just kill herself. Grabbing her bag, phone, and broken skateboard she walked out of the police station to the place where she usually slept, the park.

Surprisingly she got a job the next day, and that is selling some street food with an old woman, the job got pretty handy, well, at least she would have 10$ to eat something and have a single water bottle for the day and not die from hunger, packing some dumplings in the small box she grabbed one of the bags signaling to the women "I'll go take these and will be right back Ajumma?" a small smile was on her lips as she walked away holding the hot food in her hand, the aged women seemed to be caring for her and would always give her some money even though she was poor and more broke than Y/N was, but still considered her as her daughter.

Knocking at one of the doors, she could hear the sound of music blasting and laughter, smiling at the memory of her being the best dancer back at school she opened the door peaking inside, the sight of a group of boys she recognized when getting arrested she handed the pink-haired boy the bag, "Jimin-ah~ you pay this time!" said a brown-haired boy behind him with a boxy smile, Jimin slightly rolled his eyes before smiling brightly at the girl taking his wallet out, a Gucci wallet which looked expensive, not like she wanted to steal it but these boys must be rich.

Bowing one last time, she walked away making sure to thank them and have a good day, "Ajumma, no I can't take them anymore what about you, you need your medicine so keep them besides I'll be okay for one day?" she said pushing them gently with a small smile, nodded Ajumma defeated but still thanked the girl a 100 times. "it was nice working with you, Ajumma, but I think I should go to either Busan or Daegu, I can't stay here anymore or dad will find me and- you know? so I'm gonna need you to go right now to the pharmacy and buy that medicine, we worked so hard for that now go!" she said pushing her gently toward the pharmacy with a small smile, pulling her into one last hug she kissed her forehead before walking away, waving slightly one last time before continuing her 'travel' in search of some way to escape Seoul before her father takes her back once again.

Sitting beside the boy she took his cigarette from his hand throwing it on the ocean in front of her, as he was about to grab another one she threw the box on the water, "so, do you want me to teach you that this mother fucker is a killer?" she said chuckling slightly at how he hated her already for throwing his precious addiction, "anyways, I need your help?" she said out of the blue, Jungkook raised his eyebrow waiting for her to continue her words "we all know you're rich as fuck, and I need you to buy me tickets to Daegu?" listening slightly to her words he took a picture of the couple kissing inside a laundromat with his camera, nodding slowly she almost squealed but stopped upon hearing his next words "in one condition?" "and that is ?" "I'll help you sneak inside my ex-house and go inside her room, to the drawer and there will be my clothes" "fine, when?" she said agreeing with his plan.

Standing in front of his ex house, she nodded at him before starting to climb the windows and could hear the sound of him talking to that girl more like flirting, looking at the window she could see them making out on the couch she had, opening the room window she did as told opening the drawer and grabbing all his stuff, a ripped book, AirPods, music DVDs and laptop looking at the polaroid with Jungkook smiling she stuffed it inside her pocket before looking at the room one last time.

Walking down the empty road beside Jungkook she handed him her bag full of his stuff, "you give it back tomorrow, you know where to find me? stay cool." she said smiling while flicking him off, the maknae staring at the girl with a small smile, this was her way on how to say goodbye or goodnight, the boy slowly waved back taking his keys from his pocket, opening the door of the black mansion greeting his mother on the way who seemed to smile sheepishly at him "who's the girl?" "mom I just met her" Jungkook looked so done as he stared at his mother dumbfounded

Opening the wagon door she ruffled her H/C hair after doing her routine, jumping down the wagon, she closed the door making sure to lock it with padlock, walking down the road she hid behind the wall watching as the man turned around running she grabbed a croissant, hiding it inside her jacket, thank god, he didn't notice and no one seemed to be out yet this neighborhood was always empty. the girl didn't have anything to think of but only the fact that this month was rough, she would eat once a day or not for a week, the asshole of the policeman broke her skateboard her mother got her before passing away and now she's a very famous thief in Seoul, what a beautiful life?

Nah, she always thought of giving up and standing at the edge of one of these buildings surrounding her, letting her body fall and join her mother. but couldn't, she didn't want to die and also promised her mother. Cursing under her breath Y/N limped to the front door of the beautiful black mansion, the door was suddenly slammed open and a woman stood there with wide eyes full of worry, glancing at the H/C haired leg Jungkook's mother immediately pulled her in sitting the girl down, the girl on the other side was shocked 'is this the wrong house? no, I remember JK saying this is his house' she thought confused but could see him coming out of a room holding a box, the boy slowly sat in front of her and started treating her wound out of as she sat there defeated and stared at him, his black curly hair looked so soft and his perfume was just UGH ravishing.

The food in front of her immediately got her attention as she started eating fastly, Jungkook mom laughing slightly at the girl "how many days didn't you eat something delicious?" "2 months, but don't worry- I only ate ramen 2 days ago!" she said munching slightly, Jungkook could see how her E/C eyes showed hope and slight happiness whenever she's eating, the girl was shining slightly than the last time he saw her, she was about to attack a police officer for breaking her skateboard and next was her handing a bag of dumpling to Jimin.

Sitting in front of the pool they had, she slowly took Jungkook's lighter from her pocket she found back in his ex house, playing with it she wrapped his sweater around her waist to great some heat, it was freezing but she needed to clear her mind a little bit, she was thankful of them, they gave her food, treated her wounds, gave her warm comfy clothes and welcomed her to stay with them...

And how much the girl wanted to kiss their hands for that, they made her feel safe after 8 years of the trauma and problematic life she finally felt home. The sound of someone walking behind made her stop from playing with the fire, wiping her head behind she smiled slightly at Jungkook who held a blanket sitting beside her putting the cover around both their bodies suggesting for her to get closer and not be afraid.

The handsome boy slowly handed her the phone back, it was midnight, thanking him she opened her phone, 1 notification, that's odd. Frowning she looked at the boy asking whenever to do it or not, nodding at her she tapped on the notification, her dad.

-------------------------------- 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 🖕-------------------------------

Happy birthday Darling, you turned 19, don't worry you're still my little girl right?

Fuck you.

Dad.

Seen 00:00

Just before he could even answer her text, she blocked him and deleted his number feeling calm and free, clenching the blanket around her hand she looked away trying not to let her tears fall, not wanting to show her weak side in front of Jungkook who seemed to know the situation and reason why she was cold and wants to run away. His anger was boiling, how dare a dad do this to his daughter? tomorrow was his final day alive he swore to make him pay for what he has done to his daughter. "it's your birthday?" he asked waiting for her to answer the question or at least look at him, 'why am I feeling empty when she's like that?' he thought nudging her shoulder, nodding she looked at him straight in the eyes tears covered her orbs as she stared at him deeply, her walls breaking down as she finally let them fall after staying strong for years.

살아남아야 한다."~Namjoon BTS (방탄소년단) 화양연화

Jungkook stared at her with guilt in his eyes pulling her into his embrace the girl cried quietly in his chest letting it all out. Not even noticing she fell asleep in his arms.

Holding the notebook in her hand, she knocked on the door of his room, hearing a groan behind the door she opened it looking at Jungkook who was fixing his hair, giving him a poker face she closed the door behind looking around his room, "shit, this place is fire" "I know right?!" he said on the other side trying to tie his hair into a ponytail, chuckling slightly she walked toward him standing on her tiptoe, "give it to me" doing as told he handed her the tie, her fingers slowly trailed down his hair sending a shiver down his spine at how cold her hands are, but a small smirk raised on the corner of his lips as his playboy self started showing Jungkook suddenly turned around before she could even finish his hair, landing on top of her his leg between hers as their faces were inches away from each other, his bunny smile on his face as he innocently grinned at her as if nothing happened.

Her eyes were dull and numb, but they lit upon seeing his beautiful smile

Having an amazing plan, she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer as she leaned in, her nose bumping his, with Jungkook staring at her parted lips not pulling away and liking the way how she pulled him closer, his lips so soft that she wanted to kiss them so badly but couldn't, twirling him around it was now her turn to smirk, she was on top of him grinning innocently while ruffling his black hair

"come on, time for dinner"

Walking down the streets of Seoul while listening to some music, she slowly walked into one of the cafes that lined up the street of Seoul. Pushing the door open the little bell at the door jingled when she walked in and the scent of coffee hit her like a truck, this café wasn't crowded and it was one of her favorites, for these past days both the teenagers got closer day by day and still couldn't open up to him yet, it was so hard. and it would be a terrible lie if she doesn't catch feelings for him. "hello, can I get an iced-americano please?" she said looking at the cashier taking out the money from her pocket she slammed it on the counter before making her way toward one of the tables, playing with the flannel shirt she burrowed from Jungkook the girl waited for her order, phone ringing she slowly answered the call

"Hello? are you fucking kidding me what has he done?!" yelled the girl hanging up, slamming the door open the girl ran down the streets

Jungkook on the other side drove in rage toward where her 'father' worked, sitting down on one of the chairs his feet tapping on the ground nervously as he glared at the ground, a man came toward him with a smirk on his face, Breathless with anger, he stood up and immediately punched the man square in the jaw he didn't care about anything at the

moment but to just make him pay for what he did to his daughter.

Dashing down the streets pushing past the people, everyone at first thought that flash just passed by them while it was just a girl running with panic in her eyes, walking inside the police station the H/C haired girl immediately pulling the boy into a hug, tears covering her E/C eyes, as she pushed the strand of hair from his face staring lovingly at him she cupped his cheek looking for any injury. Sighing she glared sharply at her father "you deserved it" she said spitting in his face one last time before walking out of the police station asking Jungkook if he was okay, driving back home in silence the girl thought 'why did he do that?'

Sitting him down she grabbed the first aid kit and some alcohol, it was now her turn to help him, "this will hurt, so grab my hand" sitting down in front of him Y/N gently pressed the cotton on the huge bruise he had in his hand not caring the fact he's hurting her hand due to the pain he felt, "I'm so sorry" she said out of nowhere not even glancing at him, wrapping the bandage around his bruised hand she tried to ignore how bad she wanted to hug him by trying to get up but Jungkook already beat her to it, with one simple fucking move. Cupping her cheek the boy pulled her back down and made her face him stopping her from moving, his hand pressing on her cheeks as his soft fingers caressed her ear sending a shiver down her spine, her legs suddenly became weak as she stared back into his doe eyes, his gorgeous orbs shining under the moonlight like a diamond in the center of a museum was everything for her

His Dior Sauvage perfume only made it worse, it was her favorite scent aside from coffee, she felt giddy and happy whenever she sees him and just want to squeeze him tight and never let go. but now it was her whole body burning like fire

"Y/N please, tell me what is going on and I promise I'll help you with anything?" he said looking at her E/C eyes back and forth still holding her cheek butterflies dancing on her stomach as she stayed silent not wanting to ruin this moment with her fucked up past, she was about to pull him into a kiss, the same feeling kicked in, she just wanted to feel his lips on hers for few seconds was is a hard thing to ask? the sound of the door slamming open made them snap out of their position and fall on the ground.

"dude..."

There stood the boys staring at them awkwardly, coughing she got up wiping her clothes from any dust making her way to her room "wait, Y/N you promised me!" "I'm sorry Tae but I don't feel like playing..." "no, you're coming now sit down" rolling her eyes annoyingly she walked back down and sat on the ground waiting for the boys to follow her movement. Watching as the bottle spun in front of her, the girl breathing hitched upon seeing the green bottle landing on her, slightly panicking she shot a look that could make the bravest of warriors scream in terror, but Tae who didn't seem to care, challenged her "Truth or dare?" "Truth" "what were you both doing when we came in?" "talking duh." her simple sarcastic answer only annoyed Tae more than he was and that made her smirk proudly 'i'm not falling for one of those plans, Taehyung' she thought raising an eyebrow at the boy who smirked back at her "then why the sexual tension, and you about to kiss him?" grin fading and eyebrow falling she stared coldly at the boy his blood running cold at the look the girl just sent him "i-i take that back" stuttered the boy still feeling her staring straight into his soul, the game continued but surprisingly it didn't land on her anymore.

Sitting on her bed, she pushed the blanket away from her cold body, opening the door slightly trying not to make a noise as possible, making sure to close it behind her before she made her way toward Jungkook's room knocking 3 times. Jungkook jolted up from his bed at the thought of Y/N and immediately ran to open the door, he was right, there she was standing slightly shivering from the cold but before he could even protest to give her something to warm up or say anything, she already pulled him toward the Kitchen, opening the fridge she slowly grabbed hold of ice cream box and two spoons, sitting beside him she stared at the clock ticking in front of her "wanna know why I always throw your cigarettes whenever I see you holding one?" she said glancing at the boy who already stared at her continuing her words "because my mother was so addicted to this fucker, sure, it revealed her stress but it also made her sick, we would always go to the rooftop and talk about anything that comes to our mind, that was until he decided to cheat on her out of nowhere and started going to clubs, she didn't find out by herself, but I did, I told her in our usual ted talk we had at night while watching the stars flicker, surprisingly my mom didn't seem to care since she already noticed his sudden behavior, so being a good mother she wanted divorce and when she told him I told her about the whole thing, of me coming home from school and seeing a bitch on top off him, he started doing it to her. Days passed and mom got weaker day by day and everything was becoming worse as she started smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day, and I don't want to lose you too after losing my own mother" she said scoffing a little bit at the memory flashing on her mind tears covering her E/C eyes.

Jungkook on the other side listened carefully and couldn't help but to intertwine his fingers with hers, and could feel her tensed up and her hand becoming warmer and not the usual coldness, looking at her he smiled happily at the sight of her looking at the moon through the balcony with a small blush on her cheek, as he was about to pull away afraid of hurting her she grabbed his hand back planting a gentle kiss on his veiny fingers and on top of the smiley face tattoo he had.

What are they?

A couple, close friends, just friends (pack it up, Adrien). She didn't understand why is the constant hand grabbing? cupping cheeks, the almost kiss in his room, He was so kind towards her and being his usual, bad boy self in front of the others?

Why would he like her anyway? she always thought of that which only broke her more remembering the fact she's going to run away and live in Busan and not stay with him anymore, her life was so confusing, should she stay with him or move away?

"Wanna know something?" asked the boy glancing at the girl who nodded at his question "you're living with me from now on, and this is the reason why," he said pulling her toward him by the hand, picking her up easily placing her in front of him and on top of the counter, with her staring directly into his eyes and his hand on both her side, the boy gently cupped her cheek. Heat rose from Y/N's stomach to her chest and behind her back. Jungkook's lips were getting closer and her heart decided to skip a beat, she could tell he heard it since the same bad-boy smirk came back on the corner of his lips. parting her lips she felt him washing over like a wave of warmth, curling her toes, unfurling all her senses as the taste of him nearly silenced all thoughts. The boys silently watched the scene happening in front of them Jimin and Taehyung taking pictures on the other side

the feel of his frame leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt nearly forbidden. He pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her knees gave in. Sure, she was a famous thief but in moments like these she's so nervous, he was her first kiss, what if it's bad?!. Her thoughts were stopped dead when his lips were gently pressed against hers, not knowing what to do she scooted closer toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck following the steps she remembered seeing in kdramas, he puts his hand on the back of her head and reassuringly strokes her H/C hair.

Heaven.

Pulling away gently the girl chuckled "you stole my first kiss-" "-and I'll do it again" he said cutting her off again with his lips on hers, a passionate and heated kiss made her melt in his arms, it was illegal for him to make her fall in love with him more with one simple fucking move. the next movement she made drove him crazy was the way her fingers played on his curly black hair, Picking her up his hand slid under her thigh, as he walked toward her room not breaking the kiss, closing the door behind them with his foot.

Jungkook's head rested on top of hers as he played with her H/C hair, "I never told you this, but do you know how much the Dior Sauvage & cigarette scent drove me crazy whenever I smell it on the outfits, I borrowed from you?" "oh yeah? new kink developed I guess" "yeah, I guess it's my kink," she said glancing lovingly at the boy in front of her, his fingers slowly pushed the strand of hair from her face as he smiled back at her, his fingers under her chin as he pulled her into a kiss.

"I'm in love with you girl with Dior Sauvage kink, Y/N L/N "

"and I'm in love with you too cigarette addicted bad boy, Jeon Jungkook"

#Jeon Jungkook #Jeon Jungkook x reader #bts #bts namjoon #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts army #x reader #bts jungkook angst #bts jungkook fluff #bts x reader #daddy issues #anxiety #depression #abuse #angst #bts angst #bts x you #full story #bangtan #bangtan boys

[ravennm84]

The Laptop

So, I read a prompt from @charming-mage about Lila’s laptop being damaged and her mother finds out that Lila’s been lying to her and the school. I thought it was a cute idea and the girl would have no way of trying to turn things onto Marinette, so I went with it. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

It was a silly little accident that ended up exposing everything. Lila had accidentally spilt coffee on her laptop and caused it to short out. Her mother, being terrible with technology, had taken it to a repair shop to see if it could be saved. 

Greta Rossi had taken her lunch break and gone to the repair shop to check on the state of the laptop. The woman behind the counter, Evelyn, gave her head a shake, saying there was too much corrosion and the damage to the motherboard. “Best I can tell, you didn’t unplug it, take out the battery, or tilt it to let the liquid drain out away from the main components. That was pretty much a death sentence to this thing.”

Greta groaned at that. It would be expensive to buy her daughter a new laptop, but it was necessary so she could do her homework and communicate with her friends when akuma attacks were so bad that the school shut down. “Were you able to save anything?” She asked the woman.

“Some things,” she nodded, handing Greta a flashdrive. “Mostly your photos, some saved documents, I also noticed that you were emailing your daughter’s school when the laptop was damaged. I was able to save that conversation for you.”

Her hand froze as she stared at the woman. “Are you sure? I only ask because that wasn’t my laptop, that was my daughter’s laptop.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. “It was the first thing I was able to recover since it was mid-correspondence. I assumed it was your laptop since the emails were addressed to you and were signed by you. If that’s not the case… I think you should probably read those emails and talk to your daughter’s principal as soon as possible.”

A little uncertain of what the woman just told her, Greta called the Embassy to tell them she would be taking the rest of the day off. Going home, she plugged in the flashdrive and started looking over the emails that Evelyn had mentioned. Sure enough, they were between Principal Damocles and supposedly signed by her. The first emails were dated the day Lila had told her the school was closed due to akuma attacks, only the email said that she was pulling Lila out of school to go on a diplomatic trip to Achu. 

A little taken aback, Greta looked up the akuma incidents to see just how bad things were. She normally wasn’t permitted to look up these kinds of things at work, nor did she ever have the time since she had to make sure the Ambassador’s days were scheduled down to the minute and all the paperwork was ready to be signed. But now that she had a moment to look, she could see videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating every akuma… and two of the akumas had been her own daughter! This meant that Lila had been lying to her for months!

The next email was from the day of the Scarlet Moth incident, she remembered her co-workers talking about it. That email to Damocles said that her number had changed and gave a new number, which just happened to be Lila’s number.

Another email requesting doctors notes for Lila’s numerous injuries and disabilities: tinnitus, a sprained wrist, a dislocated kneecap, and tonsolatius. Lila had responded with photocopied doctors’ notes that even Greta could tell were fake, and the principal had responded with gratitude for the prompt response.

Some of the more recent emails spoke about Lila being pushed down the stairs by another student and how a family heirloom had been stolen by the same student! Only to be followed by another email requesting another doctor’s note referencing a disease Lila claimed to have that makes her lie uncontrollably. Was the principal a total idiot? 

The most recent email, the one Lila had been working on when the laptop was destroyed, stopped mid-sentence as Greta Rossi told Damocles that she and Lila would be going on another extended diplomatic trip to London, as she would be working personally with the Queen of England. If Greta hadn’t been furious at her daughter before, she sure was now. 

Still, part of her wanted to have some faith in her daughter, so she would set up a test when Lila got home. Which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be long as she had spent a good few hours reading over the emails and she had finally looked into akuma reports that had occurred since they had moved to Paris.

Lila came home about half an hour later, texting on her phone with a cruel smile, but abruptly stopped when she saw her mother. “Mama, you’re home early. Is it because of the akuma attacks?”

“No, mia bella. I was just given the afternoon off, so I decided to spend it with you. How was school?”

Watching her daughter carefully, she saw her change in posture and expression as she began to do the same fake crying she did when she was 6 years old. “Oh Mama, it was terrible. The school got attacked by another akuma and Chat Noir was just so reckless, his Cataclysm destroyed half of the school. It got closed down until repairs can be completed again.”

“Mia Bella! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Greta asked, faking shock and worry. She suspected that Lila had completed the email on her tablet or a computer at school and sent it to Damocles. Now, her daughter was trying to make an excuse as to why she was staying home. But Greta wasn’t about to be fooled again. Oh no, she had given her daughter a chance and now she was going to make her pay. “That’s it, I can’t allow you to keep attending such a dangerous place.”

Lila stopped mid-sob to look at her mother in surprise. “W-what are you saying?”

“Lila, from what you’ve told me about Hawkmoth, the akuma’s, and those terrible vigilanties; I can’t force you to stay in such a dangerous place due to my job. Go to your room and pack, I’ll call your Zio e Zia in Italia and ask if they can take you in while I finish my assignment here in Paris.” Greta continued to watch her daughter as she spoke, her expression becoming more and more panicked and upset as she spoke. Lila had never liked staying with her uncle and aunt because they lived on a farm that was far from everything, had no internet or cell service, and Greta’s brother was of the mindset that if you didn’t work on the farm, you didn’t eat.

“Bu-but Mama, you can’t just send me away like this! What about school-”

“You just told me that the school was shut down again due to the attacks, and after all the other times the school has been closed, I doubt if you’ll be able to graduate with the other schools or even be accepted into lycee at this point. At least if I send you back to Italia, you’ll be safe and be able to go to school without worrying about being attacked.” Reaching forward, Greta took Lila’s hands firmly between her own. “Please understand, mia bella, I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Even if you’re upset with me, I must do what is best for you and your future.”

Lila didn’t bother hiding her scowl as she tried to tug her hands from her mother’s grip. Then the girl really looked at her mother’s face and realized something was wrong. “Mama?”

Greta returned her scowl. “I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I was giving you a chance to come clean and tell me the truth.” Lila’s eyes blew wide open and was about to say something, but was cut off. “I saw those emails between myself and M. Damocles on your computer. Funny thing, I don’t remember writing them. I also don’t recall changing my contact number, going on a diplomatic trip to Achu, or telling him about a bunch of injuries, disabilities, and diseases that you don’t have. I also don’t remember my bosses assigning me to go on another diplomatic trip to London to work with the Queen of England, seeing as I’m not an ambassador.”

“Wait, Mama! I swear, I can explain-”

“You’ve already said enough! You and I are going to the school right now to speak with M. Damocles. You are going to tell him everything that you’ve been lying about and I’m going to have a talk with him about your supposed fall down the stairs since I’m pretty sure you lied about that as well since I was never notified and you were never taken to the hospital.”

“No, Mama! Please-”

“Be quiet! If you dare try to fight me on this or say one more lie, you will be on a plane back to Italia tonight and spend the rest of your school career with your Zio e Zia, understand?

Pouting the entire time. Lila went back to the school with her mother and was forced to confess to everything she had lied about. M. Damocles also ended up looking at the CCTV footage, something that Greta thought he should have done in the first place, and showed that her daughter had not been pushed down the stairs and had planted the not-family-heirloom in the other student’s locker. Greta demanded that he tell Lila’s class exactly what her daughter had done and that he apologize to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng for getting her expelled. She also demanded the student’s information so she could speak with the girl’s parents and force Lila to apologize. Damocles, still thinking that Greta was an ambassador, told her about the bakery and promised that he would alert the class to Lila’s misdeeds before the two Rossis were out the door. 

Greta thought the Dupain-Chengs were wonderful people, offering them pastries as soon as they were upstairs and listened intently to her when she described the things that her daughter had been lying about. When she asked Marinette for her side of the story, Greta got even angrier at Lila. Threatening, bullying, and framing that poor girl when all Marinette had done was tell Lila to stop lying to her friends. Not only had she been lying to the school and her classmates, but all of Paris, if she were to go by the posts on the Ladyblog that Marinette showed her. She had never been more disappointed in her daughter. 

Once they got home, Greta forced Lila into her room and confiscated her phone and tablet. “I thought it was bad when you were lying to the school and playing truant, but now I find out that you are being a bully, and tempting a terrorist to attack you! How foolish are you?”

“Why are you believing that goodie-two-shoes ove-”

“I believe her because there is literally video evidence of you setting her up and trying to get her expelled! After what you’ve done, you’ll probably get expelled!”

“What!? But I didn’t do-”

“You bullied a student, committed months of truancy, forged signatures on doctors’ notes, and changed my contact information so the school couldn’t contact me. Any one of those are grounds for expulsion!” Greta shook her head in disgust when she saw the shock on her daughter’s face. Lila actually believed that she wouldn’t be punished for all the things she had done. Well, that was not something that she was going to allow, and she didn’t trust the principal or Lila’s teacher to do the right thing by her daughter anymore. “You know what, pack your bags right now. I’m calling my brother and putting you on a plane tonight. It’s clear that you need to learn some responsibility, and I highly doubt that you’re going to do that here.”

Lila tried to argue with her, but no amount of begging, pleading, or threats was going to change her mind. Lila was on a plane back to Italy within a few hours and Greta would be spending the next month cleaning up the mess her daughter had made in Paris. She was fortunate that she was able to keep her job. Luckily for her, her boss was a big fan of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and she had told him when she had brought in a big box of the pastries. That smoothed things over a bit, although she was no longer permitted to bring her daughter on assignments anymore. Greta considered that a small price to pay to keep her job, and maybe her daughter would learn that her actions have lasting consequences.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @bayball @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @seesea22 @seraphichana @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila salt #ml prompt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #mlbjustice

[ubemango]

delicacies of the season (m)

part 3: days apart

note: hey!! What’s up!! first, I officially have named this series!! it’s right up there for ur viewing glory! ok anyway here’s something before I disappear for the next four weeks because I am drowning in school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also just a side thingie for this story: I’ve already established that oc isn’t on birth control but here I’m implying that they’re doing natural planning (i.e. fertility awareness where the person who menstruates keeps up with their cycle and thus only has sex when their cycles allows for it). PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS UNLESS YOU KNOW THE RISKS!!!!!!!! Oh Lord putting your impregnation chances up to God?! I couldn’t do it. But also this is fanfiction and nothing bad will happen to this couple so let’s all just... suspend disbelief for a second ok

PAIRING. taehyung/reader GENRE. romance, farmer au RATED. M WORD COUNT. 2.5k WARNINGS. kitchen sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, a good ol’ creampie bc wot is the ubemango experience without one :/ SUMMARY. Taehyung missed you.

Auntie Gaeul comes over when the rooster crows to tell you to check out the passion fruits today. They’re ripe not because she’s seen them but because she just knows. Call it the Elder Instinct for Ripened Foods. You tell her you’ll give her half the harvest, and she swats at you before she leaves.

“Stop being so polite, I’m not that old,” she spits in jest. “And make some of that honey iced tea your grandma makes. If there’s extra, then I’ll have some.”

Taehyung would probably like some, too; he chugs down anything with passion fruit like he’s about to go into hibernation. And when you come back home from the fields with a basket-full perched heavy on your back, you resolve to make some tea right away to bring over to his house to see if he’s there. You haven’t seen him in five days—his cousin had the stomach flu, and his aunt needed the extra help with tending to the livestock. Being the eldest nephew (and the only one who can drive a motorcycle) had him obligated right from the get-go.

“Grandma! Can you show me where you put the honey jars, I can’t remember where they are. And can you help me peel these—um. You’re not Grandma,” you stop.

Taehyung looks up from where he’s perched on the stairs of your awning, flicking bits of strawberries to the ground for Danbi to eat. Your little puppy scrounges it up so fast she nearly falls over on her fluffy bum.

“I told her to go play bingo with the rest of the granny crew, someone’s betting chicken feet,” he says. You smile wide when he trods over to you for a short kiss, slipping the strap of the basket off your shoulder to put on his. The hand he keeps low on your back is as warm as the ten AM sun. “Hi. I missed you.”

“I was just gonna go see if you were home,” you say. He smells like the wind. Something you’d scrunch your nose at but he makes it work. “When d’you come back? How’s Daeshim now?”

“An hour ago. And he’s better. He ate up all your ice cream, only thing he could keep down.”

You frown. “Poor baby.”

“I know. You gonna clean these now?” He nods his head toward the water basin, carved rock he’d installed for you on your third anniversary.

“Yeah. Can you start? I’ll just wash up quick,” you offer. Suddenly you’re aware you’ve got an ugly shirt with oil stains and holes in random places—nothing Taehyung minds, but the occasion probably deserves better.

“Got it, boss,” Taehyung says. He slaps your ass before you run to the bathroom. A familiar signal of his intentions but he’s too polite to bring it up so quickly.

“Hey!”

“Hurry up,” he calls. As if you’re going to take another five days to get back to him but you get it. You missed him, too; a little more than you’d like to let on. Your grandma is great company but she watches her TV too loud and she hates when you’re not there to sit with her because she might need your help switching channels. It’s a miracle you didn’t jump Taehyung the second your eyes landed on him.

You change into whatever shirt you’ve tossed on the floor that looks semi-presentable. It’s too early for your sweat to reek like it does under the afternoon heat, but you spritz some perfume on your neck anyway. Just for upkeep, because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anticipating sex, a sloppy makeout session at the least. Danbi’s too hyper to be left alone, plus your grandma likes making surprise visits at your house because she’s a forgetful woman.

By the time you’ve come back from scrubbing the dirt and dead ant bits caked under your nails, Taehyung’s a third of the way through the basket, tossing the clean passion fruit into a bucket Danbi is trying so hard to climb into. She yelps when her fat paws slip at the edges.

“Danbi! Mama’s gonna be mad if you get hurt. I’ll give you some later.”

“Go play with your toy,” you call out to her. “Danbi! Go!”

Her ears perk up at your command, and she pants and pants till she decides to go in the complete opposite direction of the ball and into the patch where all the potatoes are. She hasn’t hit her teething phase so you’re safe from her snuffing anything out with her mouth. It’s her fur you worry about. She’s such a nice shade of white amongst the semi-wet dirt, it almost hurts seeing her get soiled.

“Like a little cotton ball,” Taehyung says. He points to the bucket. “This good?”

You nod—it’s enough to have extra for Auntie Gaeul. “Yeah. Wanna carry it to the kitchen like a good man?”

“As if I’m not one already,” he snorts, grabbing the handle. “Danbi, come!”

This is how it always goes. Taehyung ogles from over your shoulder (usually he’s off to the side but he’s a lot clingier, not that you mind) while you do your business because you don’t trust him with a knife. Not since the time you’d tasked him with chopping garlic and he’d nearly sliced his palm open when he tried crushing them first.

And now you’ve got a new addition to the routine: Danbi sniffs around the dried leaves for the fire, sneezing when she breathes the ash in too hard. You hear her collar jiggle as she explores the earthenware stacked on the side. You made sure Taehyung left the door open because she gets antsy fast.

“Can I just say that I have a thing for seeing you use a knife,” Taehyung says, hands stroking your tummy because he’s got nothing better to do.

“You’re really bad at hiding how turned on you are.”

“Who said I was trying to hide?”

You laugh. “What are you trying to get at, mister?”

“I’m saying I missed you,” he says simply.

“So that’s why you kicked Grandma out the house,” you tease. Taehyung splutters in your ear.

“No! They really are betting chicken feet. What do you think I am?”

“Horny.”

“Ugh.”

You turn your focus back to the chopping board. Taehyung lets the sound of the knife smooth down the goop of the insides fill the space.

“...Are you mad if I am?” He whispers tentatively.

“Oh my god. It’s ten in the morning.”

“You think my dick cares?”

“You think I care?” you joke.

Taehyung gasps. Like his heart just shattered from your vitriol, but all you want is to finish cutting up these damn fruits before you’ll allow his hands to touch you. “Wow. You—? Okay, fine.”

“Wha—”

“I appreciate your hard work,” he coos. He wraps himself around you even tighter, traces a slow kiss on your neck. “Really. But don’t pretend you didn’t miss me too.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“You’ve got a fucking mouth on you.”

And that gets you to shut up. Taehyung only swears when he wants you to stop talking. Not for the sake of real anger but to show you he’s got something brewing, and you’re here to take whatever it is he’s about to give you.

“I just wanted to be a good fiance and visit the one I love the most after five days because I missed them so much.”

His teeth catch the lobe of your ear. Biting down softly because he’s still aware you’ve got the knife in your hand, but you’ve lost all motor skills the second he started his little bit. You drop the handle slowly. At the last second you push all the shit you’ve laid out on the counter to the farthest corner. Something tells you this space is being defiled this morning.

“Good. Are you wet?”

“N-No.”

“Then we’ll have to do something about that, huh.”

You watch his hands glide up, and you’re half-expecting him to fondle you gently, the way he teases you when you think he’s taking it slow. But instead he goes right for the kill: using those long fingers to pinch right at your tits just to get you to gasp into the feeling. You roll your eyes shut, let your head fall back on his shoulder.

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whine.

“Take your shirt off for me.”

You’ve never exposed yourself to kitchen utensils and rice wine on the pantry shelves before but Taehyung makes you want it. He shows his appreciation for your compliance with another hard grope of his hands, this time with his mouth sucking on your neck too. Craving your skin like he’s been absolutely deprived. The calluses on his fingertips rub your nipples raw.

“You smell good,” he croons. “Come here.”

You nearly tip over from how fast he spins you around, but he catches you easy, tongue on yours in the next second. The desperate tug of his lips on yours, the smack of your spit when he pulls you in deeper, all the intricacies of needing someone else to save your own sanity—it culminates here, and now your ass is up on the cold of the counter, Taehyung pulling back from one last kiss to drag that same heat down your body.

“Please let me eat you out here, holy shit.” He tugs at your pants, slides your underwear down with it. Mouthing hungry at your mound because you haven’t answered him yet, so you just groan a quick please, yes and he doesn’t even look at you before he presses his tongue inside you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the guilt of ruining this space with your (embarrassingly) uncontrolled libido is raging. But you could care less with the way Taehyung swipes his tongue around your clit, gets you clawing at his hair for brief respite. You’ve most definitely exceeded wet boundaries. His chin practically shines.

And he knows it’s because of him. Not just from his mouth but the knowledge that he wants you trembling towards a heady orgasm, the kind that consumes you whole. His laving gets bolder with every stroke, every moan you try to keep stifled but it’s useless. “Taehyung. Oh my g-od, fuck—no d-don’t use your fingers, I’ll come.”

He laughs, adjusts your thighs so you’re not cramping. “Think you’ll tap out?”

“I wanna come on your dick,” you pants.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “You’re perfect. Oh my god. I’m so fucking hard. Can I come inside you?”

“Yes yes yes yes, just get inside me already.”

Taehyung’s foot gets caught on his pants when he shoves them off, nearly crashing face first into your pussy again. And he laughs and you snort and when he’s naked waist-down he kisses you again, a little slower this time, a breather for just a moment.

“I know it’s only been five days but I missed you. A lot.”

You trap his hips with locked ankles on his back. “I know.”

“It’s just—I had to shovel so much horse shit—”

“Oh don’t say that!” You bat at his chest.

Taehyung snickers. “Sorry. Ahh, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You can stick your dick inside me and we can go from there,” you suggest.

“I like the way you think, missus.”

It’s almost laughable when he sinks right in. No resistance, just the slick of your arousal and his spit, an unholy mixture for this thick sacrilege. Taehyung’s eyes stay locked on the sight.

“Fuck yeah. Oh baby…”

If it’s got him uttering curses this early in the round then you’re definitely worse off. You’ve got one profanity for every inch he’s claimed inside you, all lined up behind your teeth but you don’t have the brain capacity to get them out. He fucks you straight to incoherence.

Your delirium keeps you mum. Taehyung will make up for it. He slots his hand up the back of your thighs, hits deeper when you arch through the pleasure. “Holy fuck that’s so good,” you whine. “Taehyung—oh god.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just pants hard with every moan you’ll give him, and you watch the sweat glow on his collarbone, the thick of his neck. Places you claim with your mouth when you lean forward because it’s too hard to keep balance without his gravity.

Taehyung breaks when you bite. “Sh-it. Oh fuck you’re so hot. ‘M not gonna last, shit.”

“You’ll fuck me when you come?” you plead, hold his gaze. He’s just as gone as you are. “You’ll fuck your cum inside me?”

“Yeah baby. I’ll give it to you. So fuckin’ good.”

He never lets up. Just keeps that steady fucking, stiff with every drive into your slick till he adjusts your knees with one push. Pussy open to the angle that gets you begging for his thumb on your clit because it’s right there. You fall back on your hands, no steady grip because Taehyung’s faltering too.

“Oh—!” You flutter your eyes shut to pending ecstasy. “Tae—please—harder—right there right there don’t stop!”

“You gonna come for me?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he sees the way your chest collapses, the rub of your clit in quick gestures for your high. He’s got you right in his hand.

“Fuck—ohhh yes!”

“Ugh,” he whines. It’s nearly lost to the ringing in your ears, the clench of your pussy from his pounding. You cream him so good when the orgasm’s strong enough, pulsing hot, the rough intensity. And that’s not lost on him when he cries: “God your pussy’s so wet. Holy shit.”

Usually you’re spent by the time your vision’s cleared to the sight of Taehyung fucking you through it. But he’s promised you something, and you’re greedy for it.

“Come inside me,” you urge, guiding a hand through his hair, pulling hard at his nape. He keeps his eyes on his dick priming you for those final strokes.

“I’ll fucking come,” he snaps. “You ready? I’ll come so good for you baby. Come so fucking—good—!”

He stiffens with a shout, grinds his teeth, lets his orgasm splash inside with so much heat you mewl. And he keeps minimal movement, thrust for soft thrust because it’s too much with the squeezing you tease him with.

“I.” Taehyung clears his throat, panting to a stop. “I… wow.”

Your ass is rubbed raw against the counter. But you’ll risk it again to see the glint in his eye when he pulls out and watches his cum drip down your hole, onto the floor for you to clean when your legs aren’t jelly.

“Wow,” you repeat.

“Do… Am I… Am I ovulating?” He looks genuinely confused. “I don’t… I’ve never been that horny before.”

You snort. “Five days felt like forever, huh.”

Taehyung kisses you slow. “If it means we get to fuck like that again then I’m going to the city for a month.”

“Hey!” You pinch his arm, using his bicep to stand up, tiptoeing around the mess on the floor. “God. Help me clean up here, please. And where’s the dog?”

(Danbi sleeps peacefully in the wicker basket, head lolled on one of the passion fruits. You make sure to bring her over to Auntie Gaeul’s for extra snacks.)

#bts smut #taehyung smut #v smut #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #v scenarios #ubemango fic #f: farmer!tae series #f: delicacies of the season

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Sever (Ch5)

AO3

“Uncle Jamie, mam says ye’ve tae come doon i’ stair!”

Jamie Fraser gave himself a final once over in the mirror, making sure that he hadn’t missed any areas when he’d shaved and that his hair was swept back without it looking too done. The shirt that Jenny had ironed for him, despite his insistence that he would manage just fine, was properly tucked into his jeans, the cuffs of which had been neatly tucked into his beaten-up pair of brown Doc Marten boots that had seen the better part of a few years.

“Nae bad, Fraser, nae bad,” he muttered to himself as he pulled his favourite leather jacket from his bed and opened his bedroom door to find his niece hopping excitedly from one foot to the other.

“Ye’ve nae to mess this up, ken?” Maggie said sternly, her little hands planted on her hips. With a sudden shriek of delight, Jamie pulled her into the air by her arms and plonked her on top of his shoulders.

“Yer like yer mother’s wee parrot, d’ye ken that?” He laughed as he descended the stairs at Lallybroch, setting Maggie back onto her feet as the girl scowled at him.

“Am no’, am like my da,” she huffed, furthering the likeness between her and the woman that gave birth to her.

Jamie smiled down at her, ruffling her dark hair in his hand, “Aye, ye are the both of them. Equal parts Fraser and Murray.”

It was then that he caught sight of Jenny in the doorway, her face full of palpable excitement that nearly made Jamie roll his eyes. Not for the first time, he wondered if she was maybe too invested in this whole thing. It was just one date after all.

“Jamie, ye mind Mary, aye?” She gestured to the woman stood in at the door, wringing her scarf in her hands as though she was as nervous as Jamie was himself.

“Aye,” he smiled kindly at the stranger stood in his house, only really remembering her from the days of their childhood. Mary McNab looked nice enough and there was no doubt that she was a pretty wee thing but she seemed small, as if she was unsure of the space that she was taking up. “It’s nice tae see ye again, Mary. I have to apologise for my sister dragging ye all the way here, I was happy to pick ye up from the village.”

Mary smiled at him in response, looking at him from underneath her eyelashes as though she was nervous to look at him directly, “It’s no bother, really. My brother gave me a lift up.”

“Aye well, shall we?” Jamie shrugged his shoulders into his jacket, trying his hardest to avoid Jenny’s darting eyes between the two of them as he put his hand in the space just shy of Mary’s shoulder, herding her out of the door.

“Have fun!” Jenny shouted, her voice thick with expectation as Jamie opened the door of his Landrover for his date, offering a gentlemanly hand as she made the slight jump up to the passenger seat. Shutting the door behind her, he shot a death glare to his sister who was practically vibrating on the doorstep and got into the vehicle himself, setting off down the track that took him away from the Lallybroch estate and prying eyes.

The restaurant was fine. Dinner was fine. Mary was nice enough and Jamie had tried to be his most charming self but there was still a cloud of awkwardness hanging over the table. Mary was a quiet wee thing and the phrase ‘like getting blood from a stone’ was ringing around Jamie’s head. There had been more than one uncomfortable silence, neither of them able to bring up a topic of conversation that successfully piqued the other’s interest past a solitary follow-up question. It also didn’t help that Jamie had the constant distraction of his phone buzzing audibly against his thigh the entire time, no doubt Jenny was constantly texting him to ask how things were going.

Once the coffees had been drunk and dessert turned down, Jamie had insisted on paying the bill and held the door open for Mary as they left the restaurant. When they walked to his car, Jamie had held the door open again but this time, Mary halted. With a shy peek up at his confused face, she closed the space between them and pressed a kiss to his mouth. It hadn’t registered in Jamie’s consciousness until he felt her push her body against his with a little more force. He flinched, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder and pushing her away slightly to see her gasp for a breath that had alluded her.

A bright red descended over her cheeks, “I’m sorry, I’m-“

“No, lass, it’s fine. Really, it’s…” he trailed off, realising that he was looking at her mouth, open and inviting. How long it had been that he’d kissed a woman and not been half gone with drink? Steeling himself, his hands went to her waist and he pressed her gently against the car, letting his mouth fall onto hers as she whimpered and relaxed beneath him.

Jamie kissed her. He tried his best to be present as his mouth moved against hers, eliciting noises that he hadn’t heard from a woman in a long time. He let his hands drift upwards, cupping her face in his palms and he felt her instinctively move towards him and press herself against him, more boldly this time, her hands coming to the small of his back and pulling him closer to her.

A persistent buzz from his pocket threw cold water over a lukewarm situation. Pulling away, he looked at Mary, ragged breaths bursting from her lungs as he managed to settle himself quickly, retrieving the phone from his pocket and throwing it a quick glance.

Claire calling… Claire (Eight unread messages)

His stomach dropped as he ignored the call and threw it into the car behind Mary, still standing in the open passenger door with something in her eyes that Jamie prayed wasn’t hope.

“Best get ye home, lass,” he said quietly, immediately walking around the bonnet of the car as poor Mary McNab scrambled to collect herself, sitting quietly in the passenger seat.

He drove Mary to her home in silence, tightened his hand on hers once as he said goodnight with a polite smile that he hoped she would understand as an apology and began the drive home, the single-track country roads twisting and turning along with the myriad of thoughts that were running through his head.

The last thing he needed after a frustrating evening was to get stuck behind a baler on the road but he knew better than to swear at the farmer who was driving the huge piece of machinery as fast as he possibly could. As he tawdled along behind the tractor, his ears strained to hear if his phone was vibrating in its holder, eyes darting to check if the screen was going to light up with her name again.

“Mac na galla,” he grumbled to himself as he pulled into a lay-by and watched as the baler trundled down the road. Within seconds, the cab of his car was illuminated against the black of the night outside. He tried his best to ignore the shake in his fingers as he unlocked his phone and opened his messages.

Jenny: Careful and nae wake the bairns when you stumble in!

Jamie fought the urge to rest his forehead against the steering wheel and worried about how he could possibly tell Jenny that the date had been a bust.

Had been, until he’d kissed wee Mary McNab back. Probably confused the poor woman to no end. Why had he done that? She was a nice enough person and he hadn’t had a bad time but there definitely hadn’t been any spark. And that had been before he’d found out that the incessant texts he’d been receiving during their date weren’t actually from his sister, they were from her.

“Swear to Christ, Claire,” he hissed, screwing his eyes shut before they opened again, entirely of their own volition, to look at the other messages he hadn’t read from the evening.

Claire: Hey! I know it’s been ages but don’t kill me! Busy, y’know. Anyway, have you seen the email? Claire: I think I’m going to come over for it, what are you thinking? Claire: Jamie! Claire: Please say you’re going, I don’t want to go stag! Claire: I’m not going to book a flight unless you say you’re going to be there. Claire: Jamieeeeeee! I’ve had a bottle of wine and I am making rash decisions! Claire: Okay, I’m doing it and I hope you know that I blame you entirely. Claire: Flight booked.

His brain was going a mile a minute, sat in his car engulfed by the pitch blackness of the countryside as his fingers furiously clicked onto his emails, eyes scanning through the deluge of special offer gym memberships and an invite to like an old friend’s new business facebook page when he finally saw it.

A reunion of the Graduating Class of 2012!

He gleaned over the information, passing the cheap graphic that had been plastered to the start of the email invite as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

There was to be a reunion of their whole graduating year in two month’s time. Everyone from Alumni to Fellows and tutors invited, partners and families welcome.

Back to rubbing shoulders with some of the best and worst people he’d had the pleasure of knowing, not even able to say that he’d made something of himself five years on from when they’d seen him last. He had graduated with a First, that was true. But he hadn’t moved from his home at Lallybroch and God knows there wasn’t much work for anyone who spoke fluent French and German in the rural Highlands of Scotland. It was true that he’d done a bit of consulting and translating work for the Scottish Government, lending a hand as they began their push for the inclusion of Gael culture into the national curriculum after the introduction of the Gaelic Language Act. But he would’ve been able to do that even without his degree, having grown up speaking both Gaelic and English. It had been a bitter pill to swallow, the knowledge that simply having an Oxford degree had got him on the board in the first place.

Still, he tried to keep his heart from racing as a single thought repeated in his mind.

Claire would be there. And it sounded like she’d be coming alone.

Jamie fought the urge to return her call immediately, his thoughts too scattered to try and figure out what time it was in Boston. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had even spoken on the phone. Although they had both promised to keep their phone calls regular after that first one when she’d called to say thank you for the flowers, they had become less and less frequent over the five years since they’d last seen each other. And when they did speak, there was always a tension that would hide in the spaces between their words, one which Jamie was terrified of acknowledging. So he watched what he said and eventually the conversations became routine and dull, neither of them willing to drop a crumb that could potentially lead the other down a path that would end with unspoken truths. Jamie felt drained after every call, lying in bed at night and going over the way her laugh sounded and whether it would have reached her eyes. After a few missed opportunities, the calls became texts which then dissolved into the odd tag on a funny Facebook post and a casual like on Instagram. But nothing of worth shared between two people who, at one point, had been everything to each other.

Two months later, Jamie found himself sat at a large table in the hall of Merton College, where it all began. The fingers of his left hand tapped rapidly against the muscles of his thigh, fingertips numb from rubbing against the scratchy wool of his kilt. He had gone all out, donned his traditional clothing with pride swelling his heart at the sight of the modern Fraser tartan, and sent a prayer of thanks to his parents when he slipped on his Prince Charlie jacket to find that it still fit him across the shoulders. It felt like a lifetime since he’d been at university having parties and society nights in this very hall, the standard stereo system being replaced by the more sophisticated option of a small band situated in the corner, fronted by a beautiful blonde woman who was crooning about it being a marvellous night for a moondance. Jamie certainly wasn’t trying to get drunk but he was already on his second whisky in an attempt to quell the nerves that were brewing in his stomach. He was powerless to the constant roving of his eyes, unable to relax until they found their target amongst the throng of people.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Jamie looked towards the sound of John’s exasperated voice, ever the perfect Lord in his coat and tails.

John Grey was one of the only people besides Claire that Jamie had kept in contact with since leaving Oxford. The two of them had met on the rugby pitch and had immediately taken a liking to each other. John had been the only person besides Jenny that knew of Jamie’s feelings for Claire although he had once termed it a ‘soft spot’ and Jamie hadn’t corrected him, not wanting him to know how deep the feelings went. He knew that John was gay himself and it had taken an uncouth joke from another member of the rugby team at the expense of John’s sexuality that had seen Jamie ramming a knee a little too hard during a ruck that had fused the two of them as good friends.

“Sorry, I’m wi’ ye now,” Jamie huffed, letting his shoulders relax slightly as he turned his body towards the man sitting across the table from him. “What is it ye were sayin’?”

John’s faux-irritated expression softened as something behind Jamie caught his eye before he smiled at him.

“Looks like you got your wish.”

Jamie could feel the air in the room as it changed, shifted to one full of static energy and promise. Without looking back, he got to his feet and smoothed out his kilt making sure that the pleats were sitting properly.

John rolled his eyes knowingly, “You look fine, stop fidgeting.”

Breath left Jamie’s lungs in a shaky sigh as he expelled the nerves that were sitting in his throat and turned to look upon her for the first time in years.

She was radiant. Not that he was surprised by the fact but he found that he was counting himself lucky just to be in the same room as her. Claire, his Sorcha, dressed in a deep red gown that was cut daringly low at her bust, a neckline that perfectly showed off her bonny wee shoulders and contrasted against her pale velvet skin. He knew that she would’ve paid good money to have someone wrestle her curls into a loose bun on top of her hair but she hadn’t bothered with too much make-up, just a simple blush on her cheeks that almost matched the colour of her lips. Jamie felt something tug in the dead space beneath his ribs, as though the tether that had been separated years ago was suddenly trying to fight its way back to her.

He had the priviledge of seeing her reaction at the moment she caught sight of him, shoulders rise sharply in a quick inhale of breath that she wasn’t in control of. Jamie couldn’t move, finding himself instantly fixed to the spot as she smiled at him, huge and beatific, before making her way across the room to stand in front of him.

“You’re here,” she said simply.

“Of course I’m here. Wouldnae miss it fer the world.”

He immediately cringed at his words as he saw her smile softly. He had forgotten, just for a moment, that this woman knew him and would be able to infer what he was really saying—that he wouldn’t miss her for the world. Suddenly shy, Claire looked away as she offered her open arms. He greedily accepted, crushing her into his chest and fighting the insurmountable urge to bury his nose in her curls and breathe like he was coming up for air.

“It’s so good to see you,” she whispered against his chest, her breath dampening against the material of his crisp white Oxford shirt.

“Aye, it’s good to see ye as well.”

At the sound of someone clearing their throat, Jamie reluctantly let her go so Claire could beam at the sight of John Grey, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder as she kissed him on the cheek in greeting.

“My dear, you look transcendent,” John remarked as a blush of mild rage began to creep up Jamie’s neck. Of course Lord John would have the proper words for this situation, not the awkwardness that tumbled out of Jamie’s mouth. He glared at John who raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘well, you weren’t going to say it’ and Jamie resisted the urge to clip him around the back of his perfectly coiffed head. “Would you like a drink, Claire? Champagne?”

“Please,” she breathed a sigh of relief as John excused himself to the bar.

They were in a room of hundreds of people but in that moment, Jamie felt like they were truly alone. Claire was standing in front of only him and he let his eyes feast on every minute detail, how she was different and how she was exactly the same. Hazel eyes roamed over his face and he tried to control the tingling sensation in the tips of his fingers that were fighting to reach out and touch her.

“How is everyone? Jenny and Ian, the little ones?” Claire asked after clearing her throat.

“Aye aye, they’re all braw. Young Jamie is in school now and wee Maggie is the spit of her mother.”

“I miss them,” she said in earnest, her brows sloping upwards on her forehead, “I think of them from time to time, even if they were too young to remember me.”

“Yer none sae easily forgotten, Sassenach,” he said it without thinking and heard her take a sharp inhale at the sound of his pet name for her. It had been years since the name had left his lips.

“Now there’s something I don’t get called in Boston.”

“No, I imagine not, Doctor Beauchamp,” he grinned as he placed a hand on her elbow and lead her back towards the table. “Tell me everything, I want to know it all.”

The air around them was full of the words that poured out of their mouths, quickly falling into the same groove that had developed between them. It was so easy with her, Jamie thought to himself, like breathing air or falling into bed along the longest day. He was grateful to find that there were no awkward pauses or worries about what to say and what to keep to himself. The first time she hit him on the knee with her bonny wee hand, he nearly felt it jerk towards her involuntarily as if to catch the pressure of her touch again. If she noticed, she didn’t let on and tipped her head backwards to laugh at something he wasn’t even aware of saying.

John returned after a slightly longer than normal trip to the bar, apologising for the delay with the explanation of getting caught with an old friend but the look that he shot to Jamie told him it had been intentional to allow Jamie time with Claire. Jamie thanked him with his eyes but noticed an uneasy look on John’s face as he handed Claire’s champagne to her, placed Jamie’s whisky in front of him and took a deep sip from his own gin and tonic while cradling a fourth glass in his hand.

“There you are, darling.”

The sound of his voice made the whisky in Jamie’s throat burn that little bit more as it went down. Jamie tore his eyes from Claire’s face to see Frank settling himself into a chair, taking his drink graciously from John’s hand.

“Ah James, John mentioned you were here,” Frank nodded his head and glass towards Jamie in a small toast of greeting and Jamie nodded back, trying his hard to smile through the grimace.

“Nice to see ye again, Frank,” he lied.

“Yes, you too. Serendipitous, actually, I wonder if I could pick your brain about a few things?”

Claire cleared her throat and placed a gentle hand on Frank’s knee, “Darling, I don’t think Jamie wants to talk about your work, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Nonsense, I’m sure he’ll be interested to hear. You see, I’m away to specialise in the immigration of the Scots to the Americas after the Clearances,” Frank leaned across Claire and planted his forearms on the table, effectively blocking her off from the topic of conversation. Jamie tried his best not to glare at him in response and caught a small smile from Claire that told him not to bother, she was used to it.

“Fuadaichean nan Gàidheal,” Jamie muttered before knocking back his whisky in frustration and watching as Frank’s eyes lit up. Claire’s mouth twitched and Jamie had to resist the temptation to smile, knowing that she enjoyed hearing him speak in his mother tongue.

“Oh, wonderful! You speak Gaelic then?”

“Aye. We were speakin’ the Gàidhlig in the house before English, really.”

“Jamie is on a board that’s implementing the legislation that protects the use of Gaelic in Scotland,” Claire chimed in, much to Jamie’s surprise. He hadn’t told her anything about it.

“Keepin’ tabs on me, have ye?” Jamie smirked and she simply winked at him over the rim of her drink before bringing it to her mouth. “Aye, I’m part of the Bòrd na Gàidhlig. Just advising here and there.”

“He’s being modest. He’s been involved in writing a National plan for the Gaelic language over the next five years,” John added, refusing to let Jamie talk down his achievements.

Frank’s eyebrows raised into his forehead, creating deep lines in their wake, trying not to sound too surprised when he said, “That’s very impressive.”

“None sae impressive as a Harvard lecturer and a surgeon,” Jamie beamed at Claire who rolled her eyes in response.

Their collective heads turned towards the corner of the hall as the singer in the band announced the arrival of the President of the university. Welcomes were offered, donors were thanked and information provided about the up and coming renovation of a library that sorely needed funding. Jamie really tried to pay attention to the speech but at the mention of money, he was happy to find himself distracted by the sight of Claire in front of him. She was sat facing away from him and it allowed Jamie to look more closely without her being aware. He followed the line of her neck until it disappeared into her hair line and was struck by a vivid memory of pressing his lips there the night they shared in Amsterdam.

Of course he knew that it was going to be a shock to his system, seeing her in person after so many years. And he had stared his reflection down in the mirror that night, willing his fingers to stop shaking as he tried to fasten the belt that held his sporran, having to consciously take steadying breaths. He had wondered over the years if he had imagined it, had built up their connection in his mind in an attempt to not feel so alone. To have the knowledge that somewhere, out there in the world, there was someone who knew the bones of him, all his black and twisted bits, and not only accepted them but loved him for it.

But being in her presence, even after all these years, simply confirmed what he knew in his heart. What he felt for Claire Beauchamp was painfully real.

The room filled with polite applause and the band started up again with an upbeat song, inviting people to take to the dance floor. Jamie took a sip from his drink and watched as Frank’s eyes caught someone across the room.

“I’m just away to say hello to some friends,” Frank announced as he sent Jamie a wink that slithered sickeningly down his spine. “Keep the old girl out of trouble for me, boys?”

He was off with a shot and John was soon to follow, clearing his throat politely and smoothing down his coat as he stood.

“I believe I’m also overdue with making the rounds, please excuse me you two,” he said with a gracious bow of the head, leaving the two of them alone.

Just as Jamie was thinking of the perfect thing to say, the tone of Claire’s voice shocked him.

“Not very subtle, is he?” Claire remarked as her eyes found Frank across the room, watching as his hand fixed around the elbow of a very pretty blonde woman and his lips came to her cheek, just a little too close to the corner of her mouth. As Jamie looked on confused, he turned to see Claire downing the last of her champagne, something burning behind her eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on. His heart twisted as he realised that he didn’t know her tells anymore.

“What d’ye mean-“

“Dance?” She sent him a dazzling smile that he made his heart stutter but she hadn’t become so alien to him that he couldn’t see the look across her face that said ‘please, don’t ask’. He mumbled something about having two left feet as he stood, the skin of his hand becoming afire when she took it in hers.

Claire settled them on the dance floor, confidently wrapping his arm around the small of her back as she held his other in her hand. He didn’t recognise the song that the band were playing and realised that he couldn’t care less, fervently trying to keep his head even though her body was pressing against his in a way that he realised he’d been starving of since the last time he saw her.

“So, tell me what’s new with you.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his lips following its trajectory upwards, “Sounds like ye were keeping an eye on what I was gettin’ up tae anyway.”

“Well, I can’t deny the odd google here and there. Can you blame me? Its not like we know each other like we used to and when I knew that I’d be seeing you again, I refused to act like a stranger.”

He heard the honesty in her tone of voice and nodded soberly, unable to bring himself to look at her and so he pulled her that little bit closer, the added height from her heels allowing her to tuck her chin into the space between his shoulder and his ear.

“Aye, we’ve no’ been great at keepin’ in touch,” he acquiesced. “Mebbe we should try to make more of an effort? I ken yer busy wi’ yer work-“

“I’d like that.”

He let her pull away from his body and look at him, that sad smile playing on her lips that he hated to see.

“Aye, me too, Sassenach.”

As soon as her pet name left his lips, her glass face betrayed her feelings as a huge smile split across her lips, her eyes twinkling.

“I didn’t realise how much I missed that.”

He laughed at her then, spinning her under his arm in a feat of grace that surprised even him and earning a delighted burst of laughter from her mouth before she tucked herself back against him, closer than before. With a strength that he didn’t know that he possessed, he stopped himself from pressing his cheek to the crown of her head.

The upbeat song that they she had dragged him onto the floor to dance to ended and a slower one took its place. He felt the muscles in her body change and melt into his grip as Jamie tried his best to lead her through the dance even though he knew that he wasn’t moving in time with the music. She let him anyway, not seeming to care that they weren’t moving with the same grace as the other couples. Before he even realised that they were shut, Jamie’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Claire gasping.

“Did I step on your toes?” He asked jokingly as he went to look at her, seeing that her eyes were transfixed on something over his shoulder. He craned his neck, following her eyeline to the set of double doors that the skinny blonde was heading through, Frank following closely behind with what could only be described as a ‘shit-eating grin’ on his face.

Jamie’s head swivelled back to her as he searched her eyes for the fury that he knew must be brewing in the pit of her stomach. He was shocked when all that he found was defeat.

“Claire?”

His Sassenach shook her head once before casting her eyes downward and muttering under her breath. The next second, she was looking at him again, her teeth showing in what was meant to be a smile but looked more like a grimace.

“Huh?” she feigned ignorance. Jamie was having none of it.

“Claire, tell me what’s going on.”

She pulled away from him, fully, leaving him bereft. He watched as he squared her shoulders, her eyes determined on the doors that she had just watched her boyfriend disappear through with another woman.

“It’s nothing, I just need to grab Frank and-“

He stopped her as she made to rush past him, closed his hand gently around her wrist to stop her from running after the man that clearly didn’t deserve her.

“Talk to me,” he implored.

Claire looked at him, the rage that had been missing from her eyes now well and truly present. But the surprise was when he realised that it was being aimed at him.

“Let me go, I need to find Frank. Before he-“

“Shags someone else?” Jamie said without thinking, immediately regretting his words at the sight of Claire’s chin lifting into the air in defiance. She tensed the muscles of her arm as if to test the grip he held on her and Jamie immediately let her go, horrified at the concept of her attempting to see how tightly he was holding her. Trying in vain not to jump to conclusions about the dynamics of Claire’s relationship with Frank, he immediately raised his hands, hoping that she would understand what he was trying to say — that nobody should ever be touching her with any sort of force behind it. The look in her eyes made his stomach turn with revulsion.

He moved to close the distance that she had created, wanting to keep her safe, and saw her recoil from him instinctively.

Eyes wide and full of shame, Jamie quickly rectified his error and gave back the gap that he’d made to close.

“It’s just me, Claire. Talk to me, please.”

Christ, she looked like an animal ready to bolt from a burning barn. He could see the frisson of adrenaline moving through her body, her muscles waking up and ready to act, whether the reaction was fight, flight or freeze.

“Don’t look at me like that, I don’t need your pity,” she spat the words at him and Jamie felt his head spin from the speed of which the situation had changed.

“It’s not pity, Sassenach, it’s concern. Tell me yer nae livin’ on the other side of the world wi’ a man who’s— who’s playin’ ye false.”

It might have been because of the fact that Claire had never allowed herself to say it out loud, let alone be on the receiving end of it from someone else, but the rage flamed its way through her body. And Jamie has in the firing line.

“And what am I supposed to do, leave him and live in Boston on my own? I don’t have anyone.”

He couldn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth even if he’d tried, “Ye have me.”

Jamie felt his stomach turn to stone at the sight of the fear that passed across her face.

“It was nice seeing you,” she muttered under her breath as she made to leave.

The frustration bubbled in the pit of his stomach as he seethed, “Dinna do that.”

Claire bristled with indignation as her eyes fixed on him, “Do what?”

“Nice to see me, aye? Fucking hell, Claire.” He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation, the hand that had been wedged in the space between her ribs and her hip bone just a few moments before. “Ye ken fine well ye deserve better.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ye heard me jus’ fine, dinna pretend. Ye deserve better than a man who’d play ye false,” Jamie took a step towards her, lowering his voice so it was barely a whisper. “Ye ken, if ye were mine, it wouldnae even be a question in yer mind.”

The palm of her hand landed on his cheek as a bolt of lightning before he even registered that it happened. Stars burst into his vision but when they finally began to fade, all he could see was the broken look on her face and he immediately regretted his words.

“Fuck you, James Fraser.”

Before his brain could form a response, an apology for speaking out of turn, she was gone from him and he could only watch as she left through the doors that Frank had disappeared through moments before. Jamie made to go after her but was stopped when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Not here. She’ll be more angry for you making a scene,” John said quietly before nodding a polite smile to the couple that had been closest on the dance floor and had no doubt heard the entire thing. Jamie sighed angrily, forgetting that he was around people that would love to go home with the tawdry gossip of what happened at their university’s five year reunion party. Well, he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. And he definitely wasn’t going to do it at the cost of Claire’s reputation.

John’s hand exerted a firm pressure on Jamie and he allowed it, letting himself be lead back to their table. Miraculously, John had another whisky waiting for Jamie as he sipped his own drink, closely watching his friend with gentle eyes.

“I thought it might just be a crush but seeing you tonight… I understand.”

Jamie rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to dull the war in his brain that was pulling him between the notion of chasing after her, making her listen, and giving her the space that she had asked for.

“It’s no’ a crush. Hasnae been fer years.”

“Yes, I can see that now. I do know how that feels, you know,” John agreed quietly causing Jamie to pull his eyes up to meet him.

The look on John’s face told Jamie everything he already knew. John had admitted his feelings about Jamie during their time on the rugby team together, the two drunkenly stumbling to a taxi rank after a night of celebrating a win. John had managed to secure the win by way of a miraculous drop kick, only having the space and time to do so because of Jamie’s perfect blocking. Jamie hoped he’d been gentle in his rejection of John, placing his large hands on either side of the smaller man’s ribcage and keeping him at a distance that stopped him from landing the kiss that he’d tried to deliver.

“Aye, mebbe ye do,” Jamie admitted, smiling slightly at the man who simply laughed. “Does it ever get easier?”

Unsteadied at being on the end of Jamie’s typical Scottish directness, the corners of John’s eyes crinkled as he answered truthfully.

“Not really, no.”

#light across the seas that severed #clan donnachaidh #ao3 #outlander fanfic #jamie fraser #Claire beauchamp #outlander #modern au

[kenmasangel]

you get shot infront of tsukishima

synopsis : you and tsukishima work as police officers and it is known that this field isn’t safe from dangers, in fact it’s one of the riskiest jobs out there. so what you tsukushim’as reaction to see his s/o getting shot right infront of his eyes?

characters : police-officer!tsukishima;  f!reader

genre : angst, fluff

warnings : injuries/blood, cursing, grammar mistakes

masterlist

request : i have one AU in where y\n is a spy or work for police or something like that in which she get's shot or something like that and how the haikyuu boys react to it or more specific tsukishima or any other will be ok if you do it

“straighten your arm, so you are sure to have a good aim,” tsukishima explains, holding your hands so he can guide you correctly.

the sound of the bullet being shot echoed in the practice room, lending on your target perfectly, “see? this is what i’m talking about,” he adds his warm breath carresing your neck. it would’ve sent shivers down your spine but you were taught to keep your composure, to have this poker face and to numb down any type of emotions; after all this was your work and you knew what you signed up for when you decided to join the police. “okay now that i got it let me do it alone,” you straightened your position and he got away from you

3 other shots, 3 other perfect lendings earning a smirk from the both of you. you turn around getting rid of the soundproof headphones, “don’t say anything,” he says before heading out of the practice room

“what? say what?” you hide your smile, now walking next to him

“you know what i mean y/n, i am not gonna tell you did a good job,” he rolls his eyes

“oh honey, i don’t need you to tell me, i know i did a good job,” he scoffs at your reply

you and tsukishima kei have been working together in the police for 9 years now

he was here before you and he didn’t miss a chance to tease trainee you every time he could

at the time you were focused and had one objective : integrate the police forces

and him butting in your buisiness everytime he could didn’t help and you weren’t afraid to twist his arm and threaten him to break his balls when no one was looking

as you finally got into the police, making yourself a name among all those cocky officers, fake peace guardians and mysoginist dickheads whose ego would get hurt easily by seeing a woman outshining them

tsk, poor things

one thing was sure is that you could always rely on tsukishima

and despite all the bickering, arguments and teasing, you couldn’t help but fall for the man who represented your pillar

of course you could count on yourself more than anyone, but kei was that breeze of fresh air that you inhaled pleasently after getting out of a suffocating room

needless to say he had also fallen for you, fallen really hard

he was known for being the brain of the team, very rare were the people who could go past his cold, inaccessible shield

to say it in another way, almost no one passed his vibe check

by now you guys were living together, everyone knew that you were a thing after you dramatically announced it once the contract’s interdiction to date was over

“omfg y’all, i made it! 4 years in the forces wohoo!” you held your glass in the air making your teammates scream back in entusiasm.

your teammates told you -lowkey forced you- to go celebrate this new chapter of your life in the police forces, it was the end of an era after all; an era that prevented you from many things because of that goddamn contract. you had alos gotten a promotion, everything was doing just great for you.

what no one knew was that you were dating tsukishima for quite a long while actually, you weren’t planning on telling everyone so soon but the events that happened that night lowkey forced you to do so.

“thanks everyone for celebrating with me tonight the beginning of a new era for me! let’s enjoy the night!” you weren’t one for emotional speeches.

everyone was drunk by then but tsukishima, of course, (mr. i am a mature man who doesn’t drink). he was watching over you, laughing at himself when he saw you fighting with your collegue about who would win a spicy ramen competition between, “i don’t care that you’re built like a whale or a blob fish, it doesn’t even matter! i would win that eating competition, i’m tiny but mighty narita-san! let’s wrestle so i can show you,”

“she really called him a blob fish,” he comments amazed at how incoherent what you said sounded. “need someone to share your thoughts with?” a feminine voice made an apparition next to him

“no,” he didn’t even bother looking at the woman next to him

“oh c’mon handsome, playing hard to get?” she gets closer to him. “just take a look at me and you’ll change your mind,” she whispered

“ew you stink, get away from me,” he pushed her off him

“you’re gonna make me sad,” she tried to get closer to him again

“and i am gonna make you feel pain, get the fuck away from him,” you appeared in front of  them, pretty pissed

she looked at you up and down, scoffed “are you his mom? leave us alone, we’re having a great time,” she tried to put her hand on his thigh but he pushed it away “most definetely not,” he answers

“i am his girlfriend, so back tf off don’t make me repeat myself,” you added getting closer to them. “you really don’t wanna mess with me,”

“is she really your girlfriend?” the glue chick insisted

before he could answer you  grabbed his arm and dramtaically pressed your lips against his making all your collegues and the people around you in that club gasp.

i mean the people who don’t know you started cheering and your collegues gasped, that glue of a girl included.tsukishima couldn’t help but smirk against your lips as he wrapped his long fingers holding the back of your neck pulling you closer, it lasted until you didn’t have any more oxygen in your lungs.

he grabbed your hand and led the both of you out of the club, “but baaaabe i till get to wrestle with blob fish-kun,” you pouted

the day after was supposed to be a weekend but you’ve been called for idk what reason

needless to say everyone was off, some remembered few snippets, some thought it was their imagination

anyway, everyone knew but no one really talked it out you know ? some type of unspoken rule or whatever but no one minded

anyway back to the present moment

you’ve been tracking for months a drug network or whatever the heck it is called

after months of intense tracking, following clues, interviewing suspects, sleepless nights and living of caffeine here you were going to finally stop the mfs

and tonight was the night

all your team was ready to catch them it was a matter of hours only

“areyou ready for tonight?” asked you tsukki handing you your coffee

“of course i am, especially after practicing my aim,” he smirks. “thanks by the way,” you add, head still down readeing your reports

“hey... hey yn,” he tris to catch his attention but you just hmm in response. “tsk, dumbass,” he flicks your forehead

“ow, what ? i am busy!” you retort. “yn i know you; you’re not busy you’re stressed, everything is gonna be fine okay? you’ve got this, we’ve got this,” he held your hand

kei was not big on affacetion, he never really showed it especially in public he was more of a sarcatic remarks and teasing type of boyfriend but it never stopped him from showing affection when it was needed, like this moment. it was also not your type to show affection or feelings as you learned how to control them; it was much needed in your job. yet it didn’t bother you when each of you got out of your way to be comfort each other

you smiled at him and peckd his lips quickely before anyone could see, “you know i love you right,” you smiled at him

“well, i’d love me too. i mean who wouldn’t after all,” you roll his eyes at his smugness

“excuse me sir, but i don’t mix up between my personal and pro life. would you please stay 6 feet away from me,” you nag at him

“so petty and for what?” you stuck your tongue as an answeryou continued checking all the reports and files before you went on the spot, everyone was getting ready by now and you were alone in the office when you received a very much unexpected call

“hel-,”

“hello? please come help me i’m in depot 5, building 3, neighborhood koenji, in front of the subway station please hurry before they find me,” the call ended brutally

you place that person mentionned was familiar to you, of course it was where you were going to catch the heads of that network of drug trafficking. you quickely went with the procedure to report the call and the emergency to the central

“yuki please be quick we can’t let them go, i am going now tell the others to join me there and send more men,” you blurt quickely before taking your protection and gun and leaving

once you arrived there you parked the car where no one could see it

wearing your protection and your gun tightly held in your hands, you looked for a discrete entery where you could sneak inyou finally ended up getting in from the back stairs leading to the 3rd floor before taking the stairs to go to the depot basement

you tried your best not to make any noise, and when you heard some noise you quickely hid behind a broken furnitureyou mentally asked yourself if you team was going to be there soonyou heard the voice of many men, plastic and metal sounds, anyway; sounds you’d hear in a depot filled with drug dealers, ya know the drill

at some point you heard the sounds vanish and going awayyou waited a few minutes before you thought it was a good idea to come out your hiding spot

as you walked closer to their previous spot you stumbled into a metalic box that was on the floor, “who’s there?” you quickely hid behind a pillar

“i said who the fuck is there ?” the man shot in the air but you didn’t budge

“it’s rats, Mo’, let’s go,” another man added

great, just great yn you mentally scolded yourself

you decided to go wait for your collegues in the third floor since they would get there soon

as you saw the police car parking next to yours you hurried quietly to join them

“y/n you sick fuck they could’ve caught you,” tsukki hurries out of the car to see you

“shush! i couldn’t let them go, i wanted to make sure they didn’t leave,” you explained. “so they are there, all the heads are there. i couldn’t find the person who called thoough, and of course there are many bodyguards; 4 in the main entry, 2 in the back, i also heard there are some on the roof.” you explain when the others came in. “i got there through these strairs leading to the 3rd floor,” you add, everyone nodding

“okay so here’s how it’s gonna go,” starts daichi; since he is the captain of your team. he proceeds to explain how things are gonna go, the way you’re going to catch them ...ect

you, kei, and two others were teamed up together

the plan was going perfectly fine, everything was in order and it was bound to succeed

heads were being captured one by one, everyone getting neutralized

but nothing can go 100% fine, right ?

the four of you were going up to the roof so you can capture the guards there and finish the mission

you slightly opened the door and entered the opened space, before you could comprehend what was happening you a felt a horrible pain in your leg and a compilation of balls being shot in the air

“YN! yn, stay with me, don’t you dare close your eyes,” kei hurries to you after him and the two others had shot the guards and called back up

you felt him wrap his jacket around your thigh tightly, “yn baby please, everything is gonna be fine you-,” he gasps after he felt his hand getting wet after he took your head, his eyes widden seeing how bloody his hand was and as he realized you hurt your head when you fell due to the shock

“kei,” a feint smile appeared on your face before you succumbed to your succumbed and let your heavy eyes take a rest

“YN? YN? no, no, no, no, are they fucking coming?” he asked your teammates who nodded. “baby stay with me,” he squeezed you tighter before scooping you up and deciding it was better to take you down himself and not wait for the emergencies to come since he thought they were taking too long

                                       ༺═──────────────═༻

you woke up with a horrible headache and how your muscles felt so sore, only the febril rays of the moonlight getting through the window illuminated the room. the annoying beeping of the machine next to you increased the pounding in your head

a nurse quickly came in, “hello there, how are you feeling?” you looked at her confused, finding a difficulty in letting the words slip from your dry throat, the only thing you managed to say was ‘pain’. “it’s normal,” she proceeded to ask you a bunch of questions, checking that machine and do her work

after she left you tried to remember what happened but the last thing you could remember was when you opened the door of the rooftop, hearing bullets getting shot and that’s it

“at least i’m not dead,” you sighed, going back to sleep

you woke up due to yelling in the hallway

“i told you to call me as soon as she woke up! you had one job!” you recognized your boyfriend’s voice

“sir, sir!” the nurse called him out but he opened your door and his expression softened as he saw you awake, softly smiling at him and rolling your eyes

he hurried to you, taking your hands in his softly, “i really want to hug you, but i don’t want to hurt you,” he started. he let out a shaky sigh, “ i was so scared, i didn’t want to believe i had lost you,” he burried his face in your chest, you noticed his shoulders started shaking slightly

“hey it’s fine baby, i’m here, you can’t get rid of me easily,” you started playing with his hair. “we’re gonna be old and bitter and people are gonna say how i aged like fine one and how your wrinkles are covering your grumpy face,” you chuckled

he lifted his head to look at you, “what?” you ask, your voice in a whisper

“i love you,” he said, you smiled soflty and carressed his cheek.

“i really want to kiss you but my breath stinks,” you chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “how long has it been? you ask

“week and a half, it felt like forever,” he pressed his forehead against yours, cupping your cheek

“i’m back now, right?” you smiled. “come, ow,” you tried to make somle place for him

“omg careful dumbass,” he leaned next to you and held your hand

“how are the others?” you ask, looking at your interwined fingers

“everything is alright, we got all of them we’re done with this case,” he tried to end the topic. “i’m glad,” you voiced your thoughts

“i’m glad you’re alive,” he added. “i don’t want to be away from you, i want to spend the rest of my life with you,” surprised, you looked at him with wide eyes. “love, life is short especially with our job and i don’t want to take the risk to spend one more day without you being my wife. i want to bicker with you over the dumbest things, see you tease me back when i tease you, wake up everyday next to you and your horrible bedhead, enjoy our food together and i can keep on listing what i want to live with all day long. i know this is not the best proposal ever but i’ll make it up to you,” he balbbered all of a sudden, you just kept staring at him this whole time, tears blurring your vision but you blinked them away, the situation itself was already way too emotional for you

“so, y/l/n y/n, do you want to become old, bitter and grumpy with me?” his eyes were full of hope

“i wish i could hug you right now,” you started. “but yes, i want to!”

he cupped your cheek and kissed you deeply, he still tried not to hurt you

“but you are the one with the horrible bedhead,” you pulled away

“right, you’re the one with the stinky breath,” he teased you

“hey, are you crying? i should be the one crying,” you noticed his glossy eyes

“what are you talking about, it’s allergies, tsk,” he flicked your forehead, you winced in pain and hid your face, over exaggerating, making him worried. “didi hurt you? omg baby i’m so sorry love, i didn’t mean into, should i call the doctor?”

you finally showed your face and stuck your tongue out, “dumbass,” he smiled.

he cupped your face and pulled you into another kiss

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #kei #karasuno #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x yn #tsukishima x you #tsukishima hc #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima headcannon #tsukishima scenario #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu!! tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #angst #fluff #hc #hcs #scenario #imagine

[mirohlixie]

Never Enough (Hyunlix) Pt. 1

Pairing: Felix x Hyunjin Word Count: 2.4K Genre: AU, love, dystopia

Synopsis: In a world where being different from the conventional gender and sexuality rules means death, the gay youngster Felix struggles to hide his true sexuality. He is doing well until he meets Hyunjin, an undercover hitman hired by the government to get rid of all the "different" people in hiding. The moment the two meet each other, both of their lives change forever, but will it be enough?

Content warnings: AU, homophobia, discrimination against LGBTQ+, explicit language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~He looked up from his notebook, out of his window. The wind was blowing and rain was falling out of the sky in thick drops. The poor boy got bored from being inside all the time, but the weather wasn’t very forgiving. It had been like this for a couple of days now and it didn’t look like it was going to change soon.

“Felix,” a soft voice called from downstairs. “Do you want to come down for tea?” It was the same old story every day. He’d be in his room, usually reading or working on song lyrics all day. Some time afternoon his mother would start to wonder what he was doing up there all the time, and call him down for tea. He always said no, like he was going to do now. He simply didn’t feel like being among other humans.

All Felix longed for was to take a long walk, anywhere. Just him and nature and no other people. A place where he could be alone with his thoughts without feeling like it was a sin to even have them cross his mind. Because that was what his thoughts were: a sin. A boy like him should not be thinking about the things he thought of. Even better, it was forbidden. If anyone ever found out about the words dancing in his mind, he’d have to pay with his life.

At first, Felix had been pretty good at hiding his thoughts. He’d be among his family and laugh and have fun with them. However, as he grew up, he found it harder and harder not to let the words slip his mind. The safe storage that was once his head slowly began to deteriorate. His subconscious longed for the freedom that would come with the exposure of his secret. However, that moment could never exist. He didn’t want to die. Not because of this.

“Please Lix,” his mother called again. “You’re never downstairs anymore. You’re withering away in that room of yours. Wouldn’t you like to be with us just for a little? Just one cup of tea?” Felix knew his mother would keep asking until he’d give in, and he couldn’t give in.

Especially today his mind had been like a time bomb. Every time he looked in the mirror he had to withhold himself from saying those forbidden words. From saying those words that would essentially cost him his life. He could not even imagine what it would be like if he was among others. If his reflection alone was already enough to make him break, then what would a living human being do to him? How would he ever be able to resist their curiosity?

“No,” he called down. “I’m about to go on a walk,” it was an impulsive excuse and he hadn’t known why exactly he’d thought it would be the perfect one. However, now he’d already said it and had to follow through with the plan. He hopped from his bed and quickly put on a pair of shoes. He looked out the window, sighing when he saw the rain, and sprinted down the stairs to put on a coat.

“In this kind of weather?” His mother questioned, raising an eyebrow as she saw her son appear in the hallway. “It’s raining cats and dogs.”

“I know, but I like the rain,” Felix lied. “So I’m going on a walk. I’ll be back before dark, mom,” he zipped his coat and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before walking out the front door.

The cold wind hit him in the face like a brick and he had to take a deep breath before he could find the courage to actually walk down the driveway and leave the perimeters of his parents’ house.

“I like the rain,” he muttered to himself as he pulled the hood of his coat closer to his face and started to conquer the strong winds fighting for dominance over him. “I’m such a bad liar.”

It was empty in the streets, which was perfect. The last thing Felix needed now was encountering someone he knew. He wanted to be alone. Completely alone. The rain started to get less intense the more he walked, which was a welcome change. The wind still stayed the same, pulling at his clothes and trying to push him back towards his home.

He loved the thundering sounds the moving air brought with it. It completely masked any other sound coming from him and his surroundings. It made him feel safe; safer than he was at home. Safer than he was anywhere.

Here he’d be able to speak his mind without care. Here he’d be able to be himself just for a second. He took a deep breath, looked around him, and smiled a little before uttering the dangerous words.

“I am different,” he whispered at first. Fear grabbed him by the throat as he checked his surroundings again, afraid someone would’ve caught him anyway, but there was nobody there. “I like men,” he elaborated. “I am a sinner because I like men instead of women,”

To Felix, it was hideous that this detail about himself could cost him his life. Unfortunately, it was the truth. Having a sexual and romantic attraction to people of the same sex was not allowed. Falling for or having a relationship with someone of the same sex was not allowed.

It was crazily old-fashioned and absolutely the highest form of discrimination, but yes; your sexuality could get you killed. If you were pleaded guilty of being "different", it meant immediate death, as ridiculous as that may sound. No trial, no bail. If there were enough grounds to convince the government you were gay, you were done for.

Not only men loving men or women loving women suffered this tragic and brutal fate, but every person who was different. Every person who didn't fit the standard boxes of society, the standard boxes being women loving men and men loving women. There was no room for nuisance.

Why these rules existed in today’s day and age? Nobody knew. The simple answer was that it had always been like that. People who were different were a threat. People who were different didn't have a right to walk this earth. To them, the lives lost did not matter, which was absolutely disgusting in Felix’s opinion.

To them, it was merely a way to make sure the earth wouldn’t get overcrowded. The way Felix saw it, they were just scared of change. In ancient times it had been normal to be a man romantically involved with another man. It was the modern-day society that had made it into a sin. The few people who rejected this idea and showed resistance awaited the same fate as these "different" people. Nobody was safe, so it was better to pretend you agreed with it.

Felix's parents also lived by these rules, so ever since Felix found out his preference wasn't towards women, he'd hidden from them. They couldn't find out, or they would probably report him to the state. Their own son meant nothing to them if he was different.

Of course, tracking down every single "different" person was difficult, and seemed nearly impossible, since you’re not exactly born with a sign on your head that says you’re different. However, the government had its ways to track you down, may it be legal or illegal. These ways were sneaky and far from agreeable. You never knew who you could trust and who not. Living in this world was a true hell for people like Felix, but there was nothing they could do.

“I’m fucking different!” Felix shouted into the wind, knowing nobody could hear him here with the wind raging around him. “I like men and there’s nothing I can do!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you accept the terms and conditions of this task?” The lady on the phone had asked him for the tenth time. “Are you sure you are willing to take this task upon you and deal with the consequences that may come with it?” Hyunjin had nodded before realizing she would not be able to see that.

“Yes, ma’am,” he’d said. “I accept all of it. I am ready, I promise,” he’d looked at the booklet that had fallen onto the doormat this morning. He’d been waiting for it for a while now and today had been the day it had finally arrived. He’d almost jumped when he’d heard the sound of the booklet hitting the fabric. It was dumb and he knew that, but to him, this seemed like the only option.

It was fucked up, Hyunjin knew that and would never try to deny it. However, he needed the money he’d get out of it. Not for himself, but for his mother. His dear mother, the woman who’d raised him to be the man he was today, was a sickly woman now. She’d been diagnosed with a rare disease that could only be helped with expensive treatment. Without the treatment, the chances she’d not see the end of the year were very big. If she did get the treatment, it would give her the rest of her life back.

That’s all Hyunjin wanted for her; She had to see him grow up. She had to see her grandchildren grow up. He couldn’t lose her, not in a society like this one.

“Ten grant,” he’d whispered to himself. That was what he’d receive if he went through with this. It was enough to pay for his mother’s treatment and her medicine. It would be enough to keep her alive. It would cost him a part of himself, but that would be worth it if he was able to save the woman who meant the most to him. But was ten grant enough in exchange for a life? Because that was what this task entailed…

The task he was about to accept, was that of a hitman. The government granted rewards of ten thousand dollars to those who were willing to go undercover and find out which members of their society did not follow the law concerning sexuality. Well, those who found them received only three thousand. Those who then also managed to end those so-called moles would receive the full ten grant. His job would be to be among the people and find out who was hiding their true, forbidden sexuality and to simply end their lives.

The government needed undercover hitmen like this because there were way too many moles for their normal police forces. The standard procedure was execution in the name of the state, according to the legal methods, like they to criminals who got the death sentence

These hitmen were different. Their methods were technically illegal, but if they got caught, they would be let off again before they could even go into trial. The government would close their eyes for crimes like the murder of these moles as long as the hit-man had an official permit given to them by the state. These hitmen were highly necessary since there was no way the government could punish every single mole, and other than that they'd gotten better at hiding their true nature as well.

“Then I would like to congratulate you with your permit,” the lady on the phone had said. “You know how it works. Find someone you think is suspicious, figure out whether they genuinely are or not, and then eventually end their life. Send the body over to the morgue and receive your ten grant. Try not to get caught. It's such a hassle to make them drop the charges,” she’d explained once more. “If you have any questions, do call us. The last thing I would like to add, is that the most important aspect of this job is instinct. Make sure you follow it. Don’t be a fool. Don’t ignore the signs.”

“But how will I be certain if it’s one of them?” Hyunjin had questioned. That’s what the moles were often referred to: them. Not us, but the other.

“You will know,” the lady had assured him. “I promise. I have to move on to the next call now. I wish you much wisdom and luck, Hwang Hyunjin. We are looking forward to seeing your first catch soon,” and with that, she’d ended the call. Hyunjin had sat on the couch and contemplated the idea for the rest of the morning, fumbling around with the permit that had just been activated in his hands.

Was he actually going to kill someone only because of their sexuality? He knew they were deemed evil. They were different, that's what everyone had always been told over the past centuries. They didn’t deserve a place in this society, according to the government. It was never completely explained why this difference from the rest was such a bad thing. They were still people, weren't they? Was he really capable of taking another human’s life?

He shook the thought off as he was walking outside in the rain with his hood pulled over his hair a couple of hours after the call. He needed the money, so he was going to succeed. He didn’t care how much it would cost him, or how long it was going to take him to find someone. He was going to try the best he could and that was all he could promise right now. After all, it would take a while before he’d find the first person, wouldn’t it? They were called moles for a reason.

That’s what Hyunjin thought before he saw him; the person who would change his life forever. The person that truly caught his attention. At first, he thought he was just looking at the back someone who had lost his mind, yelling meaningless words into the wind, but when he listened more closely, alarms should’ve started to ring immediately in the back of his head.

“I’m fucking different!” The figure with the blonde hair yelled into the wind, probably thinking nobody would be able to hear him over the loud thundering of the air. “I like men and there’s nothing I can do!” Hyunjin bit his lip. Bingo, he thought. This was going to be easier than he’d expected.

#skz #skz scenarios #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bang chan smut #hyunlix #skz hyunlix #skz packs #stray kids felix #lee felix #stray kids lee felix #skz lee felix #hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #skz hwang hyunjin #stray kids hwang hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #hwang hyunlix scenarios #felix au #skz au #au #alternate universe #hyunjin au #stray kids au #skz gay #gay romance

[athenamikaelson]

Hey can u do a Elijah mikaelson x reader where he cheats on her with hayley more than one time and the mikaelson family knew expect kol and davina because she’s their best friend. Reader is hurt and angry and her and Hayley fights Elijah defend Hayley. Reader leaves New Orleans but comes back when kol ask for help. Elijah sees her and he feels guilt and tries to win her back. ( can u make the reader an ex assassin a deadly one two )

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Request- Hey can u do a Elijah mikaelson x reader where he cheats on her with hayley more than one time and the mikaelson family knows expect kol and davina because she’s their best friend. Reader is hurt and angry and her and Hayley fight. Elijah defends Hayley. Reader leaves New Orleans but comes back when Kol asks for help. Elijah sees her and he feels guilt and tries to win her back. ( can u make the reader an ex assassin a deadly one two )

Warnings- Swearing, cheating, bitchy Hayley, angst, reader getting hurt

Word Count- 1711

“You know you have to tell her Elijah. You can’t keep this a secret from Y/n forever. She’s been one of my closest friends for 4 years. I’ve watched you fall in and out of love with y/n, and then you fall for Hayley all in that time. It isn’t fair.” Rebekah says to Elijah as he closes the door to Haley’s room. Elijah turns around and goes to pass Rebekah. Rebekah’s hand grasps onto his arm before he can fully pass her, but is shrugged away by him.

“You don’t think I know that sister. Of course I feel horrible for what I’m doing to Y/n. I’ve loved her for four years.But-”

“But what brother, you say you’ve been in love with her for all these years but you still do this to her. Some man of your word you are.” Rebekah walks to the end of the hallway before turning around. 

“You have until the end of the week, or I tell her myself. And when she finds out Hayley better not be anywhere around because I know not even a hybrid coils stand a fight with Y/n.”

I walk into the living quarters of the Mikaelson compound, Davina and Kol by my side. 

“Well all I’m saying girls is that those shoes definitely don’t match her eyes.” Kol says, throwing his hands into the air. 

“Well thank you love, but she still bought the shoes. Right y/n?.” Davina looks in my direction but is met with a blank stare. “Y/n?”

I shake my head getting me out of my thoughts, “Sorry. Ya. Shoes and all that right.”

“Y/n, are you ok?” Davina and Kol share a look, before returning their eyes to me. I run my hands over my face before facing them again. 

“Have you talked to Elijah lately? It seems like everytime I try to talk to him, he always finds an excuse to leave.” Kol and Davina both shake their heads. 

“Well I’m sure it’s nothing, my dear brother has always been a stick in the mud.” Kol smirks, but quickly stops when he sees my unimpressed face. 

“Well um, here comes my bastard brother, maybe he knows.” I look over to the stairway where Klaus is descending while holding Hope in his arms. 

“Brother have you happened to know what the bloody hell is up Elijah’s ass lately and why he’s treating my best friend like shit?” 

Klaus’s eyes quickly meet mine and flash with what appears to be pity, or regret. But he quickly shakes his head and starts to walk into the kitchen. I’m definitely not dealing with this shit today. 

“Niklaus Mikaelson you best as hell tell me what in the world is going on. I’ve seen the looks from you and Rebekah. The side eyes and the looks of pity. What the hell is going on.” Klaus doesn’t meet my eyes, “Please Nik. It’s killing me.”

“I promised Elijah I wouldn’t tell you. But, I can’t do this to you anymore. Go to his room.”

 Klaus looks towards Elijah’s room. I don’t spare a second before I run up to his room stopping at the door. Standing there for a second I decide if barging in is a bad idea, until I hear giggling from what appears to be a woman. I slam open the door to see Elijah sitting up against his head board holding a woman. His hands brushing through her hair. Something he used to do to me. I make eye contact with Elijah who has stopped touching the other woman, and just stares at me. Not with pity, but with the look of a child who just got scolded by their mother. The woman quickly turns around and faces me. The woman who I would ask Elijah time and time again if he felt anything for her. God, how stupid I was. I saw the looks. Of course out of all the people he had to fuck behind my back, it had to be her. Hayley. 

Elijah goes to stand up but I’ve already made my way through the door. I practically run down the stairs into the living space. Kol and Davina’s questions and yells are thrown towards me but I block them out. I’m about to make it outside before he speeds in front of me.

“Y/n please wait. Let me explain.” Elijah looks at me with such a sad look. That would make me feel for him, if he wasn’t such a two-timing whore. 

“Explain what Elijah? That you’re a two-timing whore, slutting it up with another whore.” I throw my fist into Elijah’s nose, the crack loud enough that even a vampire wouldn’t need their hearing to hear it. 

“Oh shit.” Kol yells from behind us. “Shut it Kol.” Davina throws back. 

“I know you didn’t just call me a whore.” Jesus Christ.

I spin around to find Hayley standing there. All in her glory. Messy sex hair and a smirk on her face. I turn back around knowing that at least I’ll be the bigger person. 

“Aw, well Y/n. It’s not his fault you became unlovable. I mean who’d want someone who can’t even go through a conversation without punching someone in the face.” Hayley’s snarking voice cuts through. 

I whip around to see her staring at me with a smirk. Oh this bitch. I start to run at her with my hand on the knife I keep hidden under my shirt. Hayley starts to back away before Elijah steps in front of her, pushing me back. With the impact of his shove I land on my ass. Tears well up in my eyes as I look up to him. Elijah’s face covered in regret. I can see Davina holding back Kol from attacking Elijah out of the corner of my eye. And Nik holding Hope’s head towards his shoulder blocking her from the mayhem that’s happening in front of her. 

Elijah goes to reach for me but I back away. Wiping the tears from my eyes. “So that’s how it is. You’d hurt me to protect her.” Elijah lowers his head. “I guess that’s my answer then.”

I stand up and walk out. Davina and Kol trailing behind me.

2 Years Later…

Music and laughter fills my ears as I swing along with a random group of people in the little irish pub I’m in. My laughter is drowned out by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I walk away from the group which gets me a bunch of boos. I laugh to myself as I press the answer button. 

“Hello, Y/n here having the time of her life. And you’re messing it up. This better be good.”

“Y/n?,” Davina’s voice sobers me up, “I need your help.”

“I’m on my way.”

As I walk into the place I used to call home the memories of the last time I was here come back to me. My yelling, Hope’s crying, Elijah’s looks of disdain. 

“Y/n?” Davina’s voice breaks me away from my thoughts. Before I can process anything she pulls me into a hug. I look into her eyes to see them welling up with tears. “I missed you too, D.”

“Is that who I think it is! Bloody hell!” Kol’s much more aggravating voice cuts through before I fell another pair of arms surround me. 

“Group hug. Yay. I missed you too Kol. Now let go.” Kol and Davina’s arms reluctantly unloosen around me. 

“Now, as much as I love you both and am enjoying this little reunion. What is the little problem you need help with?”

Davina and Kol bring me into a room where the rest of the Mikaelson’s are sitting. Most annoyingly Elijah. He looks at me trying to catch his eye, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. Hope is also there who seems to find me very interesting, coming over to me and trying to braid my hair after I sit down. 

After what seemed like hours of avoiding staring at Elijah, they all finally tell me what the problem is and what they need me to do. 

“Alright let’s get this done with.”

Stretching my neck I walk back into the compound with Kol by my side. “Ya, that definitely reminded me why I hate witches,” I look at Davina, “no offence.” She just shrugs with a look of understanding.

“Well, as much as this has been fun. There’s a little pub in Ireland calling my name. Goodbye Mikaelsons. Kol, Davina I’ll talk to you two later.” Nodding my head I grabbed my bag from the chair I placed it in before we went to fight the witches. Walking towards the door I’m stopped by him. Flashbacks from that day come back making me flinch away from him. 

“Y/n can we please talk?” Elijah looks at me earnestly. 

“Let me guess you and Hayley didn’t work out?” Elijah shakes his head, “She married another wolf.” I laugh in his face. Good. He needs to know the pain he caused me. 

“Please Y/n. I know I messed up. After you left, I was miserable without you. I still am. I realized how much of a monster I had been to you. You never deserved to have been treated like that by me. I’m sorry. If you’d just give me another-” “Don’t,”

“Oh you poor baby. You caused the problem. You slept with her. And I’m supposed to feel sorry for you! You have no idea how many nights I stayed up crying myself to sleep asing myself why wasn’t I good enough? It took me months, Elijah, to finally find an answer. DO you know what that answer is? The answer was never that I wasn’t good enough, the answer was the you weren’t man enough to tell me that you couldn’t love me as much as you desired her. And as soon as I realized that everything changed. I’m living my life now. Not confined to the haunting life of the girlfriend of one of the Mikaelson brothers. I’m free.” 

Elijah stares at me, tears falling from his eyes as I walk past him. 

“Goodbye Elijah.”

#klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x reader #klaus mikaelson #stefan x elena #Kol mikaelson #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #Author #the originals #thecwshows #the vampire diares imagine #athenamikaelson #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson icons #kol mikaelson x reader

[amxranthiine]

c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii

cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her 

 A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙  Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!

Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way.  After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly.  Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.

He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be.  Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out.  Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently.  “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good.  “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss.  I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins.  Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known.  As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair.  The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking.  “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger.  The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies.  “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair...  He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation.  Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door.  In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling.  After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable.  It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants.  I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts.  “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories!  Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked.  “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude,  “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)

#lotr #lotr imagine #lotr x reader #lotr imagines #lotr oneshot #lotr oneshots #aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine #aragorn imagines #aragorn oneshot #aragorn oneshots #aragorn fanfiction #lord of the rings #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings imagines #lord of the rings fanfiction #the lord of the rings #the lord of the rings x reader #the lord of the rings imagine #the lord of the rings imagines #the lord of the rings oneshot #the lord of the rings oneshots #the lord of the rings fanfiction

[alia-turin]

It has really been forever, but work kind of kicked my ass the last few weeks and writing has ben really really hard. In any case I am determined to finish that (just one chapter left, yey) and I also have bunch of hot requests to work on. 

Fic Title: Somewhere in Time:  Chapter 9  Previous Chapters:   1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8   Rating: Explicit [NSFW around the end] Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s) AO3 Link

“Caranthir?” Aine looked at him confused and afraid, he pulled the blanket over her knowing they won’t be alone soon. Of all the possible days and times now would be the one, of course. He knew Avallac’h probably had no idea Carabthir was not alone, but that did not make the situation less annoying and frustrating. He was not a child anymore.

As soon as Avallac’h stepped through the portal, Caranthir got off the bed and started walking to his dresser, ignoring the man. The clothes he was wearing were downstairs in his study and he was not going to talk to his teacher naked. Avallac’h moved his eyes between him and Aine, she had the blankets pulled almost to her eyes level. Caranthir could feel the anger building in him. Of course his mentor will come now, if there was one thing Avallac’h had ever achieved regarding Caranthir was to ruin the few good moments he ever had in life.

“Get out of the room.” he said as his teacher was shifting his gaze between Aine and him. “The door is there, Avallac’h.” Caranthir pointed angrily as the older elf just smiled politely, acting as if just teleporting in someone's bedroom was the most normal thing in the world. His teacher walked out of the room, Caranthir followed, considering pushing him down the stairs.

“Why are you here?” Caranthir asked as they walked in his lab, Avallach had already lit the place. “Actually, I don’t care, leave.” He was having a good moment, for the first time in his life he was actually enjoying the closeness to another living thing, going through emotions he thought for a very long time unable to experience, and it was all cut short.

“I need to ask you something.” Avallac’h pretended as if that whole thing was absolutely normal. It wasn’t, it had never been normal.

“Make an appointment.” all the serenity was gone and he was pure rage right now, he couldn’t believe something so simple bothered him so much and was able to destroy all the tranquility he felt just a moment ago. He couldn’t show his feelings to Avallac’h, he would not give him the satisfaction. He did his best to look calm, but the winter storm outside the Tower started howling. “Leave.” Caranthir snarled.

“I understand that your absolute inability to build meaningful intimate relationships probably makes you very uncomfortable being seen in bed with someone, but I really need to speak to you.” he was talking to him, but Avallac’h’s eyes were not on him. Caranthir turned and saw Aine standing on the stairs wearing one of his shirts. He turned back to his teacher, Crevan’s eyes narrowed as if trying to determine how serious this thing was. No...he was thinking if he could use her to get to him. He was staring at her in the way Caranthir would stare at a horse he found interesting. He didn’t feel jealous because of his teacher’s gaze, he was concerned.

“Aine, go upstairs.” she hesitated and he raised his voice. “Now!” This time she did it, her light steps echoing as she climbed up the cold stairs.

“Free advice, from personal experience, snapping, especially when there is no need to do so, will result in unfortunate consequences.” Avallac’h forced a smile and Caranthir’s anger only grew. That patronizing, always knowing better than him...

“Despite my inability to build meaningful intimate relationships, do I look stupid enough to follow the advice of the man known for driving the one woman he loved away.” Caranthir chuckled, he had learned from the best. If Avallac’h wanted a fight, he was going to give him one and Eredin was not here to stop them.

“Lara might have left me, but at least she knew who I was.” Crevan pointed toward the stairs even if there was no one there anymore. “Tell me Caranthir, how long before your arrogance and impulses drive her away? How about everything in you that Eredin has corrupted? How long before your true colors show and she walks away for real this time. What will you do then? Let her go?” Avallac’h made a fake laugh. “I saw the marks on her skin, you will not allow your possession to just walk away. I would know.”

Silence fell between the two of them. Deep down Caranthir knew they were just two elves trying to hurt each other without doing it physically. They knew each other far too well, despite how much Avallac’h had tried to hide his pain through the years, Caranthi had seen it. Avallac’h was wrong however, she was not a possession, or maybe he had sensed that was using the words to push him further?

“I need to know where Eredin keeps the girl.” Avallac’h finally said, his voice soft, no trace of the frustrated tone they both used.

“What girl?” It has been days since he has been in Tir na Lia, he had no idea what Eredin or anyone was up to.

“Cirilla.”

“I don’t really keep track of where Eredin stores his toys.” Caranthir smiled. “Now, the door is downstairs, or use a portal, I don’t care.” The storm outside calmed, but so high in the tower, the wind was still whistling against the stone.

“Caranthir, I know you messed with the potion for Auberon.” Avallac’h added without hesitation. “I also know Eredin asked you to.” pause, he did not respond, just looked at his teacher. “I also know you have cast a spell to prevent me from finding Cirilla, I would have located her by now otherwise.”

“Maybe you should try harder.” Caranthir didn’t speak in anger, but he knew the words would hit home. That was what Avallac’h would tell him every single time he was unable to cast a spell or do something that was expected of him.

“You need to look beyond your selfishness.” Avallac’h added. “You have responsibilities.”

“I do.” Caranthir smiled. “To my king.”

“He is not the true king.” Avallac’h did not raise his voice, but the anger there was obvious. “I need to find the girl, she is a key to something more important than whatever Eredin wants to use her for. He will ruin everything…”

“Everything what?” Caranthir laughed. “All your life you have believed that there is a great purpose for you Crevan. Be with Lara, be the power behind the throne, father the child to save us all. Look at you. Ended up with Lara death, me as a replacement for your child and now even the throne is not yours. You are not as special as you think you are, Crevan. You think everyone to be more stupid than you are, but Eredin knows exactly what is at stake here. As do I. We are all aware and don't need you to remind us.”

“But I'm the only one who knows how to help.” There was malice in Avallac’h’s smile now, an emotion he had not seen on the other man’s lips before. “You think you are stronger than me? You can do a lot, but we still need Ciri and your ability might be enough to keep Eredin happy, but they are not enough to save us. All of us.'' A pause followed, Caranthir was ready for an attack, but one did not follow. “Tell me, how good of a mage is she?” Avallac’h pointed up the stairs. “If I am to...collapse the roof of this ugly tower, how long do you think she will last? A minute? A second?”

“Your issue is with me not with her.” Caranthir spoke through his teeth. “Besides, it doesn matter how good she is. I can protect her.” Avallac’h was bluffing. He would not do that...wouldn’t he? The man was pragmatic, logical, in his mind the life of all of the Aen Elle was more valuable than whatever might happen here, Caranthir understood that very well.

“Protect her? Like that other one? The one that the human mages killed? Did you tell her you will protect her too? Or there was no time for that.” The tower shook and Caranthir had just a second to stop his teacher's spell, before he found himself flying across the room and hitting the wall.

“The same way you promised Lara to protect her.” he got up, clearing blood from his mouth. “How did that work for you?.” he cast a spell, Avallac'h saw it and avoided the ice falling from the ceiling, but Caranthir knew that would happen, he moved the table behind Crevan and hit the small of his back forcing him on his hands and knees. They were even now.

They looked at each other, the anger in Avallac’h’s eyes softened, there was still displeasure, but the malice was gone.

Avallac'h stood unsure why he even did that. Why was he going so far? He did not come here to threaten Caranthir or that poor girl that had nothing to do with their past. He was happy Caranthir found someone, the kid deserved to feel something other than anger.

All he needed was Ciri's location, Caranthir must know something, otherwise he would be able to sense her. The logical explanation was he had cast a spell, he could walk for days through the palace, assuming she was in the palace and look for the spell, but he did not have days.

“I should have been kinder to you.” Avallac'h changed his approach. This was how he should have started. Tell him how he really felt, apologize, especially knowing that after today they would certainly be enemies and one of them would end up dead. Hopefully not, but it was a possibility. “I should have taught you how to love.” A pause followed and the navigator did not speak either. "I am not threatening anymore and I will not hurt her or you, unless you provoke me. Where is Ciri?" the young man laughed at his words.

“You should either continue with murder attempt or leave.” Caranthir finally said calmly

“I wish you could look beyond your own hatred.” Avallac’h sighed. “Lara taught me things I didn’t know. About myself. I think you have learned something about yourself tonight as well, my boy.”

Avallac'h couldn't believe how much alike the two of them were. Not in everything, and he was to blame for all of their similarities and differences. Ironically, he was not his biological father, but judging by their characters he might as well be.

“Avallac’h, it's too late to be my father.” Caranthir finally said as if reading his mind. It was a mix between regret and pain. "I will not tell you where she is. I will not betray Eredin."

Avallac'h nodded. That one was on him. He could have been smarter but his emotions took the best of him. He opened a portal and walked away. He was going to find her himself.

Caranthir stood there not sure what happened or why. He just stared at one point on the wall, his mind numb.

"Caranthir?" Aine's voice came from the stairs, he turned his head just to see her standing back at the stairs. The look on her eyes made him snap. She was scared and she was worried. For herself or for him? "Are you okay?" She asked and he stood there...for him? That was the first time…

"I'm okay. Let's go to bed." he walked to her and wrapped his around her shoulders.

Carathir woke up sensing his spell broken. Avallac’h finally found her. He knew it was just a matter of time after their conversation yesterday he just hoped it was in more time than that. Going back to Ti na Lia wasn’t something he wanted to do right now. Aine was still asleep, her small back pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms a bit tighter around her, he had never woken up next to someone in his life, nor had he ever had the desire to do so until now. He couldn’t believe how his entire life he had missed that. Sure, until now he had the need to be someone for more than a night only once before, but the whole feeling of having someone in his arms...he buried his face closer to her, inhaling the smell of wild flowers and pine from her hair. Caranthir wished he didn’t need to go to Tir na Lia now, he could spend the day here in bed just...holding her. That was new as well.

He felt her shift a bit and he released his grip not wanting to be clingy. Funny, he managed to sleep the whole night without moving at all, that was a first as well. She rolled over looking at him with sleepy eyes. Caranthir just stared. Even half awake she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He felt bad for waking her, probably it was his tight embrace, but he could just not control himself, he needed to feel her so badly against his skin.

“Good morning.” she said as her eyes were pinned on his, he couldn’t stop admiring all the color on her. The red hair, such a contrast to the paleness of his, the vividness of her eyes, compared to the dullness of his...

“Last night...I promise that won’t happen again.” she looked at him puzzled, again he realized what he said was stupid and he should use more than three words to describe things. “I don’t mean...I mean with Avallac’h and the tower. Not what happened before that.” what happened before that he hoped would happen again. More than once. “He was out of line.”

“He is your teacher, right?” she asked as she pulled herself closer to him. Caranthir just nodded. Avallac’h was more than a teacher to him and less at the same time, but now that was not his problem. He had to tell her that he needed to leave despite not knowing for sure yet. Truth was he had no idea what was going on in Tir na Lia, he knew someone broke his spell, probably Avallac’h no one else had the power to do so, not now. Maybe Eredin captured him...he had to go.

“He was my teacher.” he finally answered, realizing that silence lasted too long. “He is something else right now.” he had to tell her, but how to do that without making it sound as if he was abandoning her. Last night she told him this was what she was afraid of, being used and then left. “Tell…” he stopped and her eyebrows raised in curiosity. Did he really want to know? “Tell me about that man. The one you said...left you.”

Aine stared at his pale eyes not sure she understood the question. She understood the words, that was not the problem, but why was he asking about that all of a sudden? Then again, she had seen probably some of the most intimate moments of his life, it was just fair.

“Well...not much to say...he was someone close to my half brother, but wanted to be closer, get more power.” That happened years ago and it still hurt her in a way. It had been a valuable lesson to learn her place. Not that much because of what he did, but because it was such a good reminder for her she had no place, neither with humans nor with elves. “He thought my father valued me more than he actually did, and he was not entirely wrong, he encountered him at a time when he was somewhat affectionate to me. We spent months together, I was happy because I felt like finally I had found my place. Finally I wasn’t neither here nor there, I was a part of something, accepted by someone...a few months passed he finally understood that my father used me to show off to elves who were sympathetic to humans, parade how generous he was to me, and ignored me the rest of the time. He tried, he asked my father if being with me makes him part of the family, my father ignored him and there was that.”

“Did you ever…” Caranthir started and then stopped half way. It was curious how hard these questions were for him, but he was the one asking, she did not share that on her own. Aine could feel his body being tense around her, his embrace a bit stronger. “Did you ever have that with him?”

“That?” she had to try to suppress a laugh. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘that’.”

Caranthir felt the air just stopping in his lungs. He knew jealousy as a feeling, but that was the first time he felt it in a romantic way. He wasn’t even sure why, whoever the elf was, that was in the past, he didn’t even know his name, and that was probably for the best as otherwise he would find him and kill him. Not for what he had done to her, but because they had something, no matter how fake it might have been. No, the real jealously came from the fact that he probably held her in his arms, the way he was holding her now, but he had not done that with anyone else.

“Held you in his arms?” he finally asked, knowing the answer.

“Caranthir, why are you asking?” she pushed herself away from him a bit, placing a hand on his chest and looking at him concerned. “Does it really matter what happened years ago, with someone who does not matter anymore?”

Why was he asking? She was right, it didn’t matter.

“We need to go back to Tir na Lia.” he finally said. He just didn’t want to sound like he was leaving her, but he was leaving her, even if it was not in the same way. “And I will have to leave with the king on a hunt most likely.” he saw the confusion and pain on her face. He reached quickly for her cheek and cupped it with his hand. “I did not plan for that to happen.”

“Can I stay here?” she finally asked, the concern in her eyes not disappearing but he could feel her body being less tense.

“No.” he laughed. “I might be gone for a day, but I might be gone for months. You can’t open a portal on your own, not even to move yourself downstairs. There is no way out of here but through a portal.” he kissed her forehead. “In Tir na Lia, you will have all of my servants, everything you’d ever need.”

“Caranthir, no…” she grabbed his hand from her face and held it in hers. “My place is not there, I’m neither human nor elf, I have no place in the palace. Not as an elf…”

He placed his finger on her lips making her silent.

“You have a place. Here and in Tir na Lia.” he opened a portal under the two of them and suddenly they moved to his rooms in Tir na Lia. They fell on his bed, the warm blankets from the Winter tower with them. “This is your place.”

Before she could protest again there was a knock on the door and one of his servants walked in, an elderly man who usually looked after everything.

“My lord, I was not aware you will be coming back.” the man bowed as he spoke, he looked at Aine for a second and then his eyes were on Caranthir again.

Aine pulled the covers closer to her chin as Caranthir got off the bed, the servant still standing there. That dynamic was not unfamiliar to her, the man was most likely trained all his life to do exactly what he was doing right now and Caranthir had grown up knowing humans were nothing but servants. She was the odd one in the situation. He got off the bed and walked around it, the servant's head bowed down but he followed his master’s movement as he went to the window on the other side of the bed. Aine used the chance to study the room, it was at least twice as big as the bedroom in the Winter Tower, the bed was softer, there was a small table with chairs, dresser next to the wall and vanity, but the mirror was covered with a sheet. That was curious, she realized just now that there was not a single mirror in the Winter Tower.

“I will be leaving Tir na Lia for a hunt.” Caranthir turned toward his servant. “In my absence, her word is my word.” The man did not answer to him, just gave her a quick look, almost as if trying to understand. Aine did not blame him. His life was easily defined. Humans served elves and there was that. She was neither. She wasn’t his mistress, nor wanted to be, but she was not his equal either. “Make sure you find her some clothes. We left everything at the Winter Tower.”

“Yes, my lord.” The man bowed and shot another look at her, filled with confusion as if he was trying to make sure he really understood his master’s commands. He nodded and walked out.

“You don’t need to do that.” she said as the man walked away. “I don’t need servants.”

Caranthir walked toward the bed and sat at the edge, the morning light from the window reflecting in the white lines of the scars on his body.

“You said you don’t have a place.” he ran his fingers through her face. “I’m giving you one. But you will not have a place, among the Aen Elle, or among the humans, unless you decide if you want to be Aen Elle or human. It’s yours.” he made a gesture with his other hand pointing at the vast room. “There is a study next door and all the books you need on magic...hopefully I will be back soon.”

He looked at her face trying to remember all the lines, how her red hair contrasted with her skin, the mismatching eyes, the curve on her nose, the fine on her cheekbones...he hoped that would take no more than a day but he knew Avallac’h he was clever and he had already seen the rest of the Red Riders preparing in the yard. It was a matter of time before Eredin came looking.

“Why are you doing that?” she finally asked him and he was taken aback. What sort of question was that? “You don’t need to.” she added. “You can leave me in the rooms where you kept me imprisoned, they are perfectly adequate, but you are giving me your rooms. Why?”

Caranthir could not answer these questions. He could, but not actually voice it. She made him feel good, she made him forget how bad he felt about himself, she made him feel wanted for something else than being Eredin’s Navigator. He also liked holding her in his arms, just having another being that accepted him for who and what he was. Someone who in a way was as lonely as he was, someone just as him, could never find their place, because he was not a warrior like Eredin and Imlerith, but he was also different from Avallac’h. Or at least wanted to be.

“Come.” he took her hand in his and walked with her to the window where he was standing just a moment ago. She hesitated for a moment to step closer, she had nothing covering her body. “It’s okay the rooms are high enough, even if someone looks they can’t see you.” He pushed her closer to the glass and wanted her to see what he was looking at just a moment ago. Eredin and the rest of the Red Riders rushing around the yard, preparing to leave. He had not spoken with him, but he already knew what was going on. “I’m doing that, because you are doing something for me.” he kissed her neck where he could still see the marks he left on her last night. “Something to me.” He placed his hands over her belly and slid them up to her breasts, but she stopped him.

“A payment?” there was hurt in her words and Caranthir stepped back, she was not turning but she could see his reflection in the window.

“No.” he wished he was able to express what was going on in his head. The fact that he did not want to leave, not now that he actually felt good for the first time in many years. “Gratitude. Appreciation.” yes, that sounded closer to what he was feeling, probably not an accurate description but as close as he could allow himself to admit aloud. He wrapped his hands around her again, but this time sank his teeth in her skin, pulling her closer to himself trying to remember how her skin feels against his. One hand sliding between her legs, the other reaching for her breasts but she stopped him again.

“Not like that.” she turned around and faced him, placing a hand on his chest just over his heart. “Gentle.”

“I’m not sure I know how.” it wasn’t a lie. Last night was the nicest he had ever been to someone in bed and he still wasn’t sure that qualified as gentle.

“I can help you.” she stepped on her tip toes and kissed his lips. Caranthir didn’t even need to think about it, his whole body was just responding to her.

“I don’t have a lot of time.” It was partially an excuse to hide his lack of experience in being kind, but also truth. It was a matter of minutes before Eredin asked for him. He wanted to treat her differently than everyone else and he was far less ashamed of himself around her, he wouldn’t be standing naked in front of her now if that was not the case, but he had no idea where to start from.

“You don’t need a lot of time.” she kissed him again, this time he was trying to memorize the sweetness of her taste.

Aine wasn’t even sure where all that courage came in her, she knew she wanted him, just this time she wanted to look at his face, all the time. As much as she liked last night, that was different. He said he could be away for months, so she wanted to remember him.

“I will try.” he groaned as he reached down and lifted her, placing her on the window sill but still supporting most of her body. He moved one hand between her legs running a finger through her entrance feeling that she was already wet. Redness crawled trough her neck and cheeks having herself for a second day spread like that for him.

“Slowly.” she moaned as his finger was replaced by the tip of his cock. He listened, he pushed slowly in her, his hand grabbing her chin and made her look at him as he was slowly pushing in her. He was careful and gentle, trying to be. The hand that was supporting her was still digging in her skin, probably leaving bruises and she could see the lust in his eyes.

As he pushed all the way in he leaned forward and kissed her, moving the hand that was holding her chin to where they were connected, his thumb easily reaching for her clit.

“I don’t have time.” he whispered in her ear as he picked up the pace. She kissed his chest trying to silence her moans. Despite his faster and harsher pace he was trying to be kind, his lips were on her neck, but this time kissing not biting. She wrapped her legs around his urging him to go faster even if he did not really need the invitation. He moved his lips to hers just before she came around him, as his own moves became more frantic and needy. Couple of thrusts later and he came slamming his hand at the window behind her to find support.

Neither of them moved for a second, she couldn’t until he did, and he was just leaning over her looking at her unfocused and trying to catch his breath.

He didn’t step away from her but grabbed her and threw her on the bed, her back hitting the softness of the mattress.

“How was that for ‘nice’?” He did not follow her in bed, but watched her naked shape over the covers.

“We need to practice.” she teased him, as she was trying to memorize every inch of his body.

“When I am back.” he leaned forward and kissed her. For a second she thought he would follow her in bed, but he stopped over her. He pulled one of the rings from his hand and handed it to her, it was different from the one he used to teach her. This one was just a band with runes marked on it. “Keep that with yourself. If something happens, I can find it.”

“If something happens?” she could sense concern in his voice. Happens to her or to him? “No more tracking spells?” she teased, not wanting to even imagine what ‘something happens’ could mean. Not now.

“No tracking spells.” he touched her lips with his thumb. “If you are to walk away now, and leave the ring here, I won’t be able to find you.”

She wanted to tell him that she wouldn't leave, not unless he asked her to, but a knock on the door prevented that.

“My lord.” it was his servant. “The king is asking for you.”

#my writing

[nothingbutimagines]

Betrothed (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Knight!Peter Parker x Princess!Reader

Warning: Cursing and lots of angst

Summary: The young Princess Y/n is, on the outside, perfect in every way. She is high society, beautiful, educated, and cherished by all. However, the seemingly perfect princess is hiding a secret with that of a young knight, Peter Parker. Peter is upset, angry with Y/n when she is forced to choose between revealing the secret to stay out of an arranged marriage to a prince, or stay silent.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is the second part to Arranged. As always, requests are open and I’d love some new ideas from you all!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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“Why the long face, Princess? You shouldn’t be so sad on your wedding day.” Marceline asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“He is not coming, is he?” You asked, looking up at Marceline.

The older woman shook her head, her light grey hair falling into her face as her eyes grew somber.

“I don’t believe so, darling. Sir Peter told the king that he was too ill to help with the wedding and training the cavalry to be ushers. He’s been holed up in that little cabin for about a week.”

You sighed softly, your eyes looking deep into your reflection as you frowned, the tears prickling your eyes. You knew it was a foolish idea, to think that Peter would somehow wake up one day and forgive you for sending him away, for so easily throwing him away like a love letter from an old lover. 

You had done everything to get him to speak to you, sending him letters, having some of the younger maids walk down to send him gifts since Marceline had trouble walking that far. You had even showed up at his door, teary-eyed and remorseful, begging for forgiveness only to be told to leave, to never come back.

Peter had done everything in his power to keep you away, and you knew it was wrong to be torn up over it, since you had done the same thing first.

“I don’t want to get married, Marceline.” You whispered, looking at the woman in the mirror.

“I know, Princess, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I wish it were different, but we mustn’t hold such pain in our hearts. We must look on the bright side, you do not have to leave the kingdom to be with your betrothed.”

“Yes, I suppose so. However, I would see Peter everyday. I would rather leave the kingdom than see Peter for even a moment.”

“Sir Peter told me he may leave the kingdom and live with his brother, the sheep herder, in Astoria.”

“Marceline, why wouldn’t you tell me this?” You snapped, turning fully to face the older woman as she took a step back.

“Princess, I didn’t tell you because I thought it would ruin your wedding day. Sir Peter also told me to wait to tell you until he was already gone, when the wedding bells tolled.”

“Why must you always follow the orders of Sir Peter?” You cried, the tears you were holding back finally flooding out. “Anything Sir Peter tells you should be told to me, we went over this before! God, I need to go, I need to find Peter.” 

You pushed yourself up off of the chair using the vanity before you for leverage, your tears blurring your vision as you made your way to the other side of the room and slipping on your shoes. You were fueled by your anger, not just at the poor old milkmaid, but Peter as well. 

“Princess, wait!” Marceline called out as you past her, her hand grasping for your arm as you turned to her, yanking your arm away. “You cannot leave. You are in your wedding gown and your father, the king, will be here any moment to give you away.”

“You can tell him I am on a walk.”

“It is not that simple, you know that, he is pacing up and down the hall, you will never be able to pass him.”

“Then I will outrun him. He cannot stop me.”

“Princess, he knows your distaste for this arrangement. That is why he wanted Sir Peter and the cavalry to be here, to keep you in the castle.”

“Then he shouldn’t have given me a dagger.” You replied simply, turning on your heel and opening the chamber door to come face to face with your father.

You cursed yourself for being so rude to Marceline as she was right, he was pacing in the corridor and now standing before him, you never felt so small. 

“Y/n, my love, we must go. You were supposed to be upon the altar at three o’clock sharp and it is three-o-two.” Your father spoke softly, linking your arm in his before resting his hand upon yours.

“Father, I-”

“I know, love, you wish your mother was here. Believe me, I wish for that as well, but do not fret, I will be there for you.”

“Father, I don’t know if I can do this, get married.” You admitted, causing the older man to fall silent, leaving the sound of your footsteps as the only echo in the silent corridor. 

“Y/n,” Your father’s voice was stern as he finally spoke, “you will be getting married. I will not allow you to ruin the sanctity of this kingdom and our good name just because you are infatuated with a knight.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“You know who I am speaking about, do not pretend you do not.” He snapped back at you as you finally reached the entrance to the cathedral. “I have known about you sneaking away to see Sir Peter Parker all these years. I had hoped it was nothing but a teenage romance, but it seems as though I was wrong.”

“How had you known and yet never told me?” You attempted to pull away, but his hold was tight on your arm. 

“Do not speak back to me!”

You bowed your head in sorrow and shame, attempting to hide the look of fear that had fallen upon your face.

“I have heard the whispers between the housemaids, the way they snickered about you using their entrances and stairways and how it was almost romantic the way you had begun to see the handsome boy. Almost romantic! You knew I would never allow such a thing, yet you had done it anyway.”

“Father, I’m s-”

“Let me finish! I kept tabs on you, having that old milkmaid tell me what the housemaids were saying, what they were saying about you and Sir Peter Parker. That’s when I decided that it would be best to marry you off before you ruined this family’s name further. I had that boy help with the wedding in hopes it would tear you apart, and it had.” Your father sighed, leaning forward and knocking on the door for the ushers to open it. “Now, put on a smile. It is your wedding day.” 

You swallowed harshly, unsure of what to say as you allowed him to drag you down the aisle.

“Smile.” Your father hissed, only moments after you started walking. 

You complied, a faint smile now stretching on your face as you gazed down the aisle and to the altar, to where the prince stood, stoic. 

When you were a young girl, you’d always imagined that when you got married, seeing your betrothed at the end of the aisle would have you feeling joy, warming your cold feet and filling you with the utter glee of marriage. You pictured your betrothed teary-eyed and smiling in a way that showed true love. 

However, as you gazed into the blue eyes of the prince, you couldn’t feel anything but despair and could only feel your cold feet growing colder. 

You allowed your father to kiss you, give you away as he handed over your numb fingers and palm to the prince, who guided you up the small altar stairs. 

You gave the prince a small smile before sighing, your eyes moving around the chapel, trying to find Peter as if he would be there. As if he would show up and confess his love for you. 

You felt foolish, so lost in your own thoughts and your quest to find the familiar brown curls and warm eyes of the knight, the prince of your heart, that you hadn’t realized the pause in the priest’s sermon. 

“...if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” The Father announced, allowing for a moment of silence to fall upon the witnesses.

You held your breath, glancing up at the man before you, your husband to be before gazing back into the crowd. You allowed yourself to let go of the tension in your lungs as you saw the familiar brown curls peek out from behind the cathedral doors. 

“I object.” You declared before you’d even realized the words had come from your own mouth and not the opened mouth of the young knight. “I cannot go through with this arrangement when my heart is in the hands of another. I’m sorry, I must go.”

You quickly stepped out of your heels, gathering your dress in your arms before rushing down the aisle, your eyes never breaking from Peter’s gaze.

“Sir Peter!” You called out his name, a hand raising to wave for him as he fully emerged from behind the door. 

“What do you think I have assigned you to do?!” Your father bellowed from far behind you. “Retrieve her!” 

Knights began to rise from their seats as your ran, hands reaching our to grab you from the sides of the aisle. 

You slipped from their grasps, your dress tearing at the seams they attempted to pull you with and the sounds of your bare feet on marble filling your ears. You could only focus on Peter, brown eyed and soft faced Peter. 

Your arm reached out for him, his hand grasping yours as he pulled you into the foyer.

“Peter, I-”

“There is no time for words. We must go.” Peter interjected, his grip firming on your hand as he pulled you down the corridor. 

You both erupted in laughter, hands still gripping the other as you ran into the street and towards Peter’s horse. 

“Princess, would you like to run away with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You grinned, throwing your arms around his neck before kissing him with the passion you wished you had had in the first place. 

You pulled away from him as the screams and howls of your father and his knights erupted from the church, the men running towards you. 

“I believe that is our cue to leave.” Peter chuckled, quickly picking you up and helping you on the horse before getting on himself. 

You wrapped your arms around him as he guided his horse down the street, going as fast as he could away from the crowd that had started to gather in the street. 

“Peter, I am sorry.” You finally spoke up, as the kingdom had disappeared into the background and you could no longer hear the howling of the crowd. 

“No, Bug, I am sorry. I should have been more sympathetic to your situation and I should have never made it about myself. It was you that was forced into a marriage, not I.”

“Peter, you have no reason to apologize. I was the selfish one here. I did not think of you, not once. And I should have done so. I should have considered you before I made my decision.”

“It is alright, Bug. We both have things to feel sorrow for.” 

His hand rested on yours, his thumb running over your fingers as silence fell upon you once again. 

“Why did you come to my wedding? I had believed you were not going to come.” You finally asked, the question mulling over in your mind once again.

“I could not go another day without loving you.” Peter stated simply. “I could not go another day without you knowing that I loved you, even if you would spend your life with another.” 

“You will never have to go another day without being by my side. I swear to you.” 

#marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel imagines #tom holland fanfic #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #tom holland imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker imagines #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland!spiderman #tom holland imagines #spider man x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman fanfic #knight!peter parker #princess!reader #marvel x reader #requests open #request

[isshebreathing]

I had an unexpected weekend off and it’s too hot to be outside today, so five stories in one weekend is too much for me to catch up with. Thanks everyone for your positive response so far, I’ll definitely keep working on them.

If you are triggered by dark stuff and death fantasy you can skip part 2 and come straight to part 3 without missing anything.

Chronic Asthma Part 3

We were over staffed at the hospital so I volunteered to leave. I had been working so much that my girlfriend Emily and I were like ships passing in the night. She would have just gotten home from her bar tending shift and we could eat dinner in bed then fall asleep watching a reality show like a normal couple would. Emily has a bachelor’s degree in fine art, but she still bartends because it pays more money. I’ve always felt guilty about that, once I was done with med school I would be able to make more money and she wouldn’t have to work. She could tell the men who made passes at her to fuck off without fear of losing precious tips or worse yet, her job.

“Coming home early” I texted “dinner and tv?”

I didn’t get a response

“???????” I sent.

She might have been in bed, when I called her this evening she sounded tired and short of breath, she said she had been running to catch something.

The thought crossed my mind that Emily was not okay. She had had chronic asthma since she was a child as a result of the poor air quality in the Appalachian town she was raised in. Sometimes late at night I would feel her start awake and I knew she was having a nightmare of one of the two times she had stopped breathing entirely in her life.

I pushed the thought out of my head, Emily had always accused me of overthinking things and turning them into a medical crisis, it was a side effect of seven years of med school I guessed.

I sent another text “Fast food tacos?”

I got no response, “she’s probably in the shower,” I said to myself.

My anxiety didn’t fade though, I thought we had food at home we could make. I ordered a car on my phone to shorten the 45 minutes the train would have taken. I tried to get the thought of my girlfriend struggling to breath on the floor out of my head and tried to replace it with the pleasant warmth and surprise I’d see on her face when I came home early for an unexpected date night.

I bounded up the stairs and opened our door, I was surprised that our cat Walter didn’t come to greet me, he must have been confused by my shortened day.

The kitchen and living room and hallway lights were on, and I could see that our bedroom light was on too, but the shower wasn’t running. “Babe, you left the lights on again,” I said frustratedly expecting her to say “don’t mock my fear of the dark” jokingly in reply but I didn’t hear anything.

“Babe?” I said again with no response.

“Emily?” I said louder, now making my way down the hallway.

I turned into our room and saw my worst fears realized, Emily was laying in the fetal position on the floor, face turned gray, inhaler and nebulizer scattered around her. She had an asthma attack that turned into a breathing crisis, she was in respiratory arrest in front of me.

I rushed over to her and put my face close to hers, “Emily,” I said again trying to shake her awake. She looked into my eyes for a brief moment before they rolled back in her head and fluttered closed. I put two fingers under her chin and felt her heart sputter to a stop, she was in full arrest now.

I saw her cell phone on the floor next to the handset I insisted on keeping because 911 services could better trace your address on a landline. I picked up the handset and realized it was already connected. “Ma’am? Ma’am can you hear me? Help is on the way” a dispatcher says calmly on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, I just walked in and my girlfriend is in full arrest, I’m a doctor, I need an ambulance.”

The dispatcher responds but I don’t care what they say. I lay Emily flat on her back and rip off her fitted bar t-shirt. I grab the knife from my pocket and slice off her bra, exposing her graying chest as her large breast flopped to each side. I started compressions and yelled “Emily you have to come back okay.”

Her lifeless body lay unresponsive, rocking inward as I pounded on her chest, “and ten and eleven and twelve” I push away any thoughts of arousal that I feel from her naked body needing me to pump it’s heart for her. “And twenty-seven, and twenty-eight, and twenty-nine, and thirty” I move up towards her head and tilt it back, I try to give her a puff of air, her cheeks puff out but her chest lays still.

I realize her airway is completely blocked and run to get the medical bag I keep in my closet, I pour iodine on her throat and place my knee on her forehead to stabilize her.

I have seen this procedure done in the real world twice, once on a training video and once in my ER rotation, I have never actually done the procedure. My mind goes into a trance, I am no longer a frantic girlfriend I am a medical professional performing a medical routine. I grab a scalpel and make a small slice in the skin of her throat covering her trachea, I make a few more careful slices though skin and fat and muscle taking care not to slice too deep. I take some gauze and soak up the blood as I find the trachea. I put a small slice in the organ and mucus and blood immediately start coming up, I place my two fingers into the hole so I don’t lose it and grab one of the clear plastic tubes I had set out for the procedure, I slip the tube into her trachea as a sickening gurgle lets out all of the fluid that had been stuck in her airway. I snapped on a breathing tube and an ambu bag. I began to breathe for her. Her chest rising each time I squeezed breath into her.

The adrenaline of the initial crisis was fading fast. I was trying to do compressions with one hand and respirations with the other. Emily had told me horror stories about air hunger and how terrifying it was, I needed to help her heart beat and also keep air going to her lungs.

I started to panic because I didn’t know what to do next, do I just keep her partially alive until help comes? How long could she stay this way?

I choked down my panic as the EMT’s rushed in, and took over, I was surprised how aroused I was seeing a man forcefully pump my girlfriends chest while someone else squeezes a bulb to breathe for her.

I snap back into the present as the third medic is asking me questions. “She’s 28 years old, she has a history of asthma, no known history of a heart condition…..”

My mind trails off as the severity of what is happening hits me, I lose my composure and start to sob and I begged, “Emily please stay here with me, please stay alive,”

I watch the scene unfold as the paramedics put two white pads on Emily’s chest, one between her breasts and one On her side. I lose all medical knowledge as I watch a surge of electricity shoot through her body contorting it in an unnatural horror. The shock does nothing, the v-fib that the drugs gave her has turned into a flatline.

I watch in horror as the slip a board under her to raise her chest more, making her large and graying breasts fall further to the side, they snap a machine over her and turn it on, the machine makes an unnatural squeaking noise as it beats on her chest 100 times a minute.

I forget that I am a doctor, I forget my medical training, this isn’t a case in front of me this is the woman I love.

“Are you hurting her?” I ask as the machine pounds into her over and over and over again.

“We need to beat her heart for her,” the paramedic replies.

For a moment I think it’s too much, her hands are strapped to the side of the machine that is violently pounding her chest, making her shoulders shift inwards, her belly bulge, and feet rock inward with each compression pounding into her battered body. A tube sticks unnaturally out of her mouth attached to a blue bulb that someone has to squeeze to make her chest rise with breath. “It’s too much to expect her body to take this to stay.” I think, but thought of living without her snaps me back to reality. I am almost a doctor, a medical professional, I will do anything it takes to keep my girlfriend alive even if it’s with machines.

They load her into the back of the ambulance and despite my protests make me sit in the front with the driver.

I text my colleague in the ER, “headed in with Emily, bad asthma attack to full arrest, get prepped to start life support. I can’t lose her”

“Oh god Jen, we will do whatever it takes” she replies.

[mysterytickingegos]

I’ve Created a Monster

Pairing: Darkiplier x Clairvoyant!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,480

Summary: After a bad date, you made a rather interesting friend. But better yet, you discovered something just as interesting about yourself. This something leads to a very exhilarating part of your life, but you learn the hard way that it’s not quite as glamorous an adventure as it may seem. The last person you’d expect is the one to bring you back to reality.

Anonymous Request: If I may request! :) Can I have a darkiplier x fem!reader fic with the prompts 37, 44, 45? After the events of wkm? Just some hurt and comfort to give me dem feelz 😀👍 Maybe Dark is the one saying it please? Much thanks!

Authors Note: Probably not what you were going for with the prompts but I hope you still enjoy it!

Want to read more?

[Image Description: A Gif of Darkiplier from the “horror” branch of “A Date with Markiplier,” speaking to the viewer at a table, while another image of him leans away and yells. End Description]

Junk mail, bill, wrong address, junk mail...

The usual. You weren’t sure what ‘cool thing’ you were expecting to get in the mail in 2020 but the disappointment was there anyway. Just as you shut your mailbox you heard somebody coming down the stairs and cringed, bracing yourself as you hoped it wasn’t who you thought it was. But of course it was.

Your upstairs neighbor, AKA the worst date ever. “Ah, hey Y/n.”

“Hi Mark...” You gave him a sad attempt at a wave, and he gave you a nod, walking over to his own mailbox.

‘How’s it going?”

“Great, yeah...you?”

“Good.”

And with that the room dissolved into awkward silence, and you took your leave back up the stairs. Funny enough these moments used to be filled with dumb jokes and flirting, that was until he finally asked you out. You had been overjoyed, happy that someone had taken an interest in you and glad that something was breaking your dull everyday routine. Little did you know the highlight of the date would be the end. He had taken you to an expensive restaurant only to reveal that he had ‘forgotten’ his wallet (which ended up falling out of his pocket in front of you in the theater.) Then he had been upset with you for accidentally falling asleep to what must’ve the most boring Rom-com you had ever been subjected to. You both seemed to be in silent agreement that this should never, ever happen again.

But unbeknownst to you and Mark, somebody else had been lingering around. That was the first time that specific somebody had decided to visit you, making a sucky date the least of your concerns. You spent the rest of your night watching compilations on YouTube and eating chocolate Ice Cream. You kept going from sad to angry over your horrible day in your head.

Were you only worth asking out for a free meal? A meal that for you took about half your grocery budget. You should’ve given that ass a piece of your mind.

You sniffed, wiping your eyes and scarfing down even more ice cream. “Damn it.”

“Aw, don’t cry, darling. It wasn’t that bad.”

You screamed and nearly jumped out of your skin, scrambling away from the man now next to you on the couch. The moment your feet hit the ground you grabbed your phone and locked yourself in your bedroom. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“Let’s say I'm a... friend of a friend. I thought I’d check up on you after that train wreck.” He spoke through the door. You heard a laugh layer over his voice, and wondered if somebody else was there.

“I’m calling the police!” You shouted back.

Then you heard the same voice just in front of you, clearly amused with the situation. “You’re welcome to do so, though I’m not sure they’d believe you.” It was the same man from the couch, smiling at you. You noticed how he seemed to be glitching, and how as his head tilted to the side his figure had duplicated in blue for a split second. “As I’m sure you can tell by now, I’m not exactly human.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I’d like to get to know you, Y/n. Is that so much to ask?”

The first few nights that you had stayed up a little too late and wound up speaking that deranged spirit again, you had been terrified. But soon enough you learned to enjoy his company. Sure, he could be a little unsettling at times, particularly when he was irritated and got...cold. Not just figuratively, which he was, but literally. The temperature in your apartment would drop a significant amount and you would change subjects shivering. But all in all, from what you could see behind that wall he had up, he was simply lost at worst, not exactly evil. And it was nice to not have to be so lonely all the time.

But during one of these visits, early on, you had decided to ask why.

“Why me, of all people?”

The man you had come to know simply as ‘Dark’  leaned in, lighting up as though he had been waiting on you to ask that this entire time. “Oh, Y/n. Don’t you know?”

“Why would I ask if I already knew?”

He let out an impatient sigh. ‘That’s...I was being...” He glanced up at you just in time to catch the smile playing at your lips after successfully ruining his aesthetic. “You know what? You can stay in the dark.”

“No no no, I’ll shut up, just tell me.” You turned to face him on the couch, tucking your legs under yourself.

He left you in suspense for a few moments, before dropping his voice down low when he spoke so you would have to lean closer in just to hear him. “Let’s just say you are...spiritually attuned to my world.”

“Spiritually attuned?”

“Yes, you are psychic, a medium, clairvoyant. Whatever you want to call it.” He explained. “You are a magnet to things outside the realm of the natural. A strange pair, aren’t we?”

And that was all it took, so many unexplained events from your past were now explained, and a world of possibilities was opened to you. You must’ve spent weeks researching how to harness your abilities, starting the second he left. Sure, most sites and blogs were absolutely full of it but you got the gist. With that and some common sense, how much could go wrong?

You started to take silly jobs on the internet, from old women who thought something was off with their mirrors to amateur ghost hunters who wanted a ‘consultant.’ It took you a while to gain some confidence that you weren’t just pulling this stuff out of thin air, that you hadn’t lost your mind. But after a few months, once you hit that learning curve, man it was fun.

Your latest job was a little more hardcore, a young family wanting help to push a poltergeist out of their new home. Their stories had chilled you to the bone, but you were happy to help. Your evaluation at the house went fine, nothing too far past what you were used to. Except, the entire time you were there you felt as though you had weight sitting on your chest. You could barely listen to the poor couple tell you what they experienced due to a faint scratching feeling at the back of your mind. You weren’t an expert yet but you could tell that whatever this thing was, it did not welcome you there. Worse yet, the feeling of being drained that the couple mentioned was certainly affecting you as well. Perhaps worse.

But all that accomplished was making you even more determined to rid the house of it. You took notes for your research later, tried to communicate in the most active part of the house (with no results,) and gave the couple the best advice you could at the moment.

“Until this thing is gone, it’s best you stay somewhere else.”

A few nights later, you had just finished packing your bag and begun heading for the door when you heard Dark just behind you. “Good evening, Y/n.” His voice was layered, followed by a subtle echo bouncing off the walls of your small apartment. When you turned to face him you saw he was already frowning, having realized you were on your way out. “Where are you off to so late?“

“I’m going to hang out with some friends. So I’m sorry, you’ll have to find some other way to entertain yourself tonight, instead of ya know, slowly but surely turning me into a nocturnal hermit.“ You joked, adjusting the tote bag on your shoulder.

He chuckled, bringing his hands behind his back. “I hate to break this to you my dear, but you were there well before we met.”

“Ha ha.” You turned to leave but were stopped short when you saw that he had apparated directly in front of you.

“What’s in the bag?” He asked, starting to reach for it curiously before you stepped back.

“Nothing.” You said, a little too quickly. “Just some party supplies, alright?”

He raised his brow, no longer amused. “...Convincing. Is it really so difficult to be honest with me?”

“Oh don’t even try and pull that card, you won’t even tell me why you’re haunting that jerk upstairs.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away from you. “That’s different. Bringing such things to light would only do more harm than good.”

“Well, I may be wrong but...my thing is kinda the same. And I like what we’ve got going on so just let it go. Please?”

Dark stayed quiet, peeved off and clearly even more curious than he was before. Finally, he side-stepped out of your way, “Just be careful.”

When you got to the house, you were careful. Keeping lights on and keeping quiet while you did everything your research said you were supposed to. As you did, the spirit was also quiet, too quiet. And on your way home, you kept waiting for that heavy feeling on your chest to fade away.

Your apartment was freezing when you stepped out of the bathroom after your shower. Cold air brushed over your shoulders as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Dark?” You called out, looking around for him. This wasn’t like him. He usually made you aware of his presence as soon as he showed up. You walked into your bedroom and when you locked eyes with another in the mirror, you froze.

This wasn’t like Dark, because it wasn’t him.

Instead, the person standing behind you was a very decrepit and very angry old woman, seemingly fading in and out of reality as she glared at you. “Y̸o̵u̶ ̴s̴h̷o̵u̶l̶d̸ ̸h̵a̵v̷e̷ ̵l̸e̴f̷t̶ ̷w̶e̶l̵l̶ ̸e̴n̵o̷u̶g̷h̶ ̶a̸l̶o̴n̸e̷.̴“

The mirror shattered and you whipped around to face her, but she wasn’t there. The air whirling around the place started to pick up, and picture frames flew off the wall at you, then other objects that had decorated your room. You tried to flee but your front door wouldn’t budge. You started to bang on it, crying in fear and praying that anyone would hear you. Next thing you knew though, you were flung towards the wall.

Finally, everything settled. The weight was off your chest, but there was plenty of pain there in it’s place. You slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, then wiped the tears off your face with one hand and held the other over your ribs. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, waiting for something to happen and your heartbeat overpowered the ringing silence in your ears. You wanted to get your phone, to call for help but you were terrified of gaining attention again. You didn’t even really stop shaking until you heard a familiar voice.

“...Y/n?” Dark didn’t see you when he first showed up, just the disaster area that was your living room. Once had seen you, he was beside you in a blink of an eye. You didn’t even think about it before you wrapped your arms around him. He only gave you a moment of comfort before he pulled back, looking over you in concern. “What happened? Who hurt you?”

You couldn’t really get much out between pained wincing as he scooped you into his arms. “It was a -Ow- s-spirit.”

He laid you down on the couch as gently as he could, and you could see his face change from confusion to recognition to irritation. “Why, pray tell, would a spirit be here?”

“I may have taken a job to get rid of it...” You muttered under your breath.

“Unbelievable.” He shook his head, about to say something else before he stopped himself. Instead he moved his focus to your hand, moving it to reveal the dark bruise over your ribs.

“See, I knew you weren’t gonna like it.”

“You going off and messing with things you haven’t even begun to understand? Of course I don’t like it.” His figure glitched and layered itself in different colors before he got up and went to the kitchen.

You scoffed at his remark, trying to sit up. “Hey I understand more than you think, I’ve been doing this crap for months!”

He came back around the corner with an ice pack from your freezer in his hand. “Months?” He apparated in front of you, gently placing the pack down on the bruise, allowing you to squeeze his free hand until the shock wave from the pressure passed over you.

“I started looking into all this after you told me the truth.” You confessed. “I mean with the internet it wasn’t difficult, and I do my due diligence alright? I don’t know what went wrong.”

The aura behind him flashed pure red for just a moment, he approached his next words much softer than usual. “You can’t navigate things like this using the internet, Y/n.”

“Well I didn’t think you’d want to help me help everyone else get rid of their ghosts.”

He scoffed at you, beginning to raise his voice as the aura swapped back to blue. “You were right! I don’t understand why you would want anything to do with this, anyway. Why would you do this to yourself??” 

“I thought...I thought it’d be fun-”

“This isn’t a game!”

“You know I really don’t get you, why-”

“Of course you don’t! Do you even know what I am?”

“Well, no...”

“Neither do I.” He growled. His words truly sunk in once you saw the pain behind his eyes. He collected himself, taking a deep breath before continuing, “What I do know, is that I was human once. And people screwing with things that they shouldn’t have for selfish reasons is what turned me into this. Over the years I’ve had to see other terrible things happen to well meaning people. I’ll be damned if you throw yourself into the fire for fun.”

You nodded softly, breaking the intense gaze between you to look as your hands. “...Okay.” You opened your mouth to speak again after that, but decided against it.

“What is it?” Dark asked, trying and failing to hide the impatience in his voice.

“I just didn’t think...well I really didn’t think you’d care. Well, about this part I guess-”  You sighed, cutting yourself off this time, rather than rambling.

He was quiet for a moment, placing his hand under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. “I care...more than you know.” It was the silence after that, that spoke volumes, and even more so the way he moved forward to press his lips to yours. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a poltergeist to take care of.”

#darkiplier x reader #darkiplier fanfiction #darkiplier fanfic #darkiplier x y/n #markiplier egos x reader