#and barely have the first clue as to how to work a live one

[idkfitememate]

So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-

(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)

Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-

“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”

Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.

When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.

They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-

He sighed.

The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.

War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.

It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.

But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:

“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”

But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.

No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.

“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.

“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”

Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.

“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”

Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.

“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”

Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.

“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“

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“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.

Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.

“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”

Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.

He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.

You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.

Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.

The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.

Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.

“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.

“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.

A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.

The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.

Your smile widened.

Archons you fucking loved your family.

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Archons you fucking hated these enemies.

These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.

You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.

Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.

“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.

“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.

Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.

If only it could’ve stayed that way.

It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.

Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.

Everything went white in that eye, then black.

Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.

Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.

“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.

…

A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.

You refused to cry, because he’d live.

That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.

“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.

“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.

“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.

“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.

“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.

“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.

“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.

“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.

The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.

The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.

Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.

You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”

You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.

That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.

‘The Night Man became a God”

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You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.

He only looked back at you.

“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”

Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-

This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-

Дедушка - Grandfather

ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER

Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North

МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE

nouehuepo - my friend

приятель - buddy

#male reader #x male reader #Genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #male y/n #platonic #family #Childe!Grandpa!Reader

[mumblesplash]

ok i kinda cannot help but appreciate the part of that one minecraft panel at twitchcon where an audience member asked how they deal with burnout or challenging parts of their work and every single one of them was like “we do not get burnt out. we play minecraft for a living and it is easy.”

#‘topsy why were you watching the dsmp panel twitchcon vod’ do not presume to know what is beneath my dignity #would not recommend watching it if you are capable of experiencing secondhand embarassment though #you might die #but once you get past the feeling of mildly dying inside the social dynamics of that whole train wreck was FASCINATING #as someone who has had to answer audience questions before my primary response was ‘oh god this moderator is leaving them for DEAD’ #like HOW did no one on staff think ‘hm perhaps we should give the awkward minecraft guys an assertive and knowledgable panel mod’ #they’re just a bunch of guys who happened to gain massive online audiences #and barely have the first clue as to how to work a live one #except karl #that kid fuckin KNOWS #mumbling

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

“Show, Don’t Tell”…But This Time Someone Explains It

If you’ve ever been on the hunt for writing advice, you've definitely seen the phrase “Show, Don’t Tell.”

Writeblr coughs up these three words on the daily; it’s often considered the “Golden Rule” of writing. However, many posts don't provide an in-depth explanation about what this "Golden Rule" means (This is most likely to save time, and under the assumption that viewers are already informed).

More dangerously, some posts fail to explain that “Show, Don’t Tell” occasionally doesn’t apply in certain contexts, toeing a dangerous line by issuing a blanket statement to every writing situation. 

The thing to take away from this is: “Show, Don’t Tell” is an essential tool for more immersive writing, but don't feel like a bad writer if you can’t make it work in every scenario (or if you can’t get the hang of it!)

1. What Does "Show, Don't Tell" Even Mean?

“Show, Don’t Tell” is a writing technique in which the narrative or a character’s feelings are related through sensory details rather than exposition. Instead of telling the reader what is happening, the reader infers what is happening due to the clues they’ve been shown.

EXAMPLE 1:

Telling: The room was very cold. Showing: She shivered as she stepped into the room, her breath steaming in the air.

EXAMPLE 2:

Telling: He was furious. Showing: He grabbed the nearest book and hurled it against the wall, his teeth bared and his eyes blazing.

EXAMPLE 3 ("SHOW, DON'T TELL" DOESN'T HAVE TO MEAN "WRITE A LOT MORE")

Telling: The room hadn't been lived in for a very long time. Showing: She shoved the door open with a spray of dust.

Although the “showing” sentences don’t explicitly state how the characters felt, you as the reader use context clues to form an interpretation; it provides information in an indirect way, rather than a direct one.

Because of this, “Show, Don’t Tell” is an incredibly immersive way to write; readers formulate conclusions alongside the characters, as if they were experiencing the story for themselves instead of spectating. 

As you have probably guessed, “showing” can require a lot more words (as well as patience and effort). It’s a skill that has to be practiced and improved, so don’t feel discouraged if you have trouble getting it on the first try!

2. How Do I Use “Show, Don’t Tell” ?

There are no foolproof parameters about where you “show” and not “tell" or vice versa; it’s more of a writing habit that you develop rather than something that you selectively decide to employ.

In actuality, most stories are a blend of both showing and telling, and more experienced writers instinctively switch between one and another to cater to their narrative needs. You need to find a good balance of both in order to create a narrative that is both immersive and engaging.

i. Help When Your Writing Feels Bare-Bones/Soulless/Boring

Your writing is just not what you’ve pictured in your head, no matter how much you do it over. Conversations are stilted. The characters are flat. The sentences don’t flow as well as they do in the books you've read. What’s missing?

It’s possibly because you’ve been “telling” your audience everything and not “showing”! If a reader's mind is not exercised (i.e. they're being "spoon-fed" all of the details), your writing may feel boring or uninspired!

Instead of saying that a room was old and dingy, maybe describe the peeling wallpaper. The cobwebs in the corners. The smell of dust and old mothballs. Write down what you see in your mind's eye, and allow your audience to formulate their own interpretations from that. (Scroll for a more in-depth explanation on HOW to develop this skill!)

ii. Add More Depth and Emotion to Your Scenes

Because "Show, Don't Tell" is a more immersive way of writing, a reader is going to feel the narrative beats of your story a lot more deeply when this rule is utilized.

Describing how a character has fallen to their knees sobbing and tearing our their hair is going to strike a reader's heart more than saying: "They were devastated."

Describing blood trickling through a character's fingers and staining their clothes will seem more dire than saying: "They were gravely wounded."

iii. Understand that Sometimes Telling Can Fit Your Story Better

Telling can be a great way to show your characters' personalities, especially when it comes to first-person or narrator-driven stories. Below, I've listed a few examples; however, this list isn't exclusive or comprehensive!

Initial Impressions and Character Opinions

If a character describes someone's outfit as "gaudy" or a room as "absolutely disgusting," it can pack more of a punch about their initial impression, rather than describing the way that they react (and can save you some words!). In addition, it can provide some interesting juxtaposition (i.e. when a character describes a dog as "hideous" despite telling their friend it looks cute).

2. Tone and Reader Opinions

Piggybacking off of the first point, you can "tell, not show" when you want to be certain about how a reader is supposed to feel about something. "Showing" revolves around readers drawing their own conclusions, so if you want to make sure that every reader draws the same conclusion, "telling" can be more useful! For example, if you describe a character's outfit as being a turquoise jacket with zebra-patterned pants, some readers may be like "Ok yeah a 2010 Justice-core girlie is slaying!" But if you want the outfit to come across as badly arranged, using a "telling" word like "ridiculous" or "gaudy" can help set the stage.

3. Pacing

"Show, don't tell" can often take more words; after all, describing a character's reaction is more complicated than stating how they're feeling. If your story calls for readers to be focused more on the action than the details, such as a fight or chase scene, sometimes "telling" can serve you better than "showing." A lot of writers have dedicated themselves to the rule "tell action, show emotion," but don't feel like you have to restrict yourself to one or the other.

iv. ABOVE ALL ELSE: Getting Words on the Page is More Important!

If you’re stuck on a section of your story and just can’t find it in yourself to write poetic, flowing prose, getting words on the paper is more important than writing something that’s “good.” If you want to be able to come back and fix it later, put your writing in brackets that you can Ctrl + F later.

Keeping your momentum is the hardest part of writing. Don't sacrifice your inspiration in favor of following rules!

3. How Can I Get Better at “Show, Don’t Tell”?

i. Use the Five Senses, and Immerse Yourself!

Imagine you’re the protagonist, standing in the scene that you have just created. Think of the setting. What are things about the space that you’d notice, if you were the one in your character’s shoes?

Smell? Hear? See? Touch? Taste?

Sight and sound are the senses that writers most often use, but don’t discount the importance of smell and taste! Smell is the most evocative sense, triggering memories and emotions the moment someone walks into the room and has registered what is going on inside—don’t take it for granted. And even if your character isn’t eating, there are some things that can be “tasted” in the air.

EXAMPLE:

TELLING: She walked into the room and felt disgusted. It smelled, and it was dirty and slightly creepy. She wished she could leave. SHOWING: She shuffled into the room, wrinkling her nose as she stepped over a suspicious stain on the carpet. The blankets on the bed were moth-bitten and yellowed, and the flowery wallpaper had peeled in places to reveal a layer of blood-red paint beneath…like torn cuticles. The stench of cigarettes and mildew permeated the air. “How long are we staying here again?” she asked, flinching as the door squealed shut. 

The “showing” excerpt gives more of an idea about how the room looks, and how the protagonist perceives it. However, something briefer may be more suited for writers who are not looking to break the momentum in their story. (I.e. if the character was CHASED into this room and doesn’t have time to take in the details.)

ii. Study Movies and TV Shows: Think like a Storyteller, Not Just a Writer

Movies and TV shows quite literally HAVE TO "show, and not tell." This is because there is often no inner monologue or narrator telling the viewers what's happening. As a filmmaker, you need to use your limited time wisely, and make sure that the audience is engaged.

Think about how boring it would be if a movie consisted solely of a character monologuing about what they think and feel, rather than having the actor ACT what they feel.

(Tangent, but there’s also been controversy that this exposition/“telling” mindset in current screenwriting marks a downfall of media literacy. Examples include the new Percy Jackson and Avatar: The Last Airbender remakes that have been criticized for info-dumping dialogue instead of “showing.”)

If you find it easy to envision things in your head, imagine how your scene would look in a movie. What is the lighting like? What are the subtle expressions flitting across the actors' faces, letting you know just how they're feeling? Is there any droning background noise that sets the tone-- like traffic outside, rain, or an air conditioner?

How do the actors convey things that can't be experienced through a screen, like smell and taste?

Write exactly what you see in your mind's eye, instead of explaining it with a degree of separation to your readers.

iii. Listen to Music

I find that because music evokes emotion, it helps you write with more passion—feelings instead of facts! It’s also slightly distracting, so if you’re writing while caught up in the music, it might free you from the rigid boundaries you’ve put in place for yourself.

Here’s a link to my master list of instrumental writing playlists!

iv. Practice, Practice, Practice! And Take Inspiration from Others!

“Show Don’t Tell” is the core of an immersive scene, and requires tons of writing skills cultivated through repeated exposure. Like I said before, more experienced writers instinctively switch between showing and telling as they write— but it’s a muscle that needs to be constantly exercised!

If I haven’t written in a while and need to get back into the flow of things, I take a look at a writing prompt, and try cultivating a scene that is as immersive as possible! Working on your “Show, Don’t Tell” skills by practicing writing short, fun one-shots can be much less restrictive than a lengthier work.

In addition, get some inspiration and study from reading the works of others, whether it be a fanfiction or published novel!

If you need some extra help, feel free to check out my Master List of Writing Tips and Advice, which features links to all of my best posts, each of them categorized !

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

#writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writeblr #booklr #writers #writing #show #creative writing

[teddynottss]

• - WHO DID THIS TO YOU? - •

PAIRING(S): theodore nott x fem. reader.

WARNING(S): fighting, swearing, smut.

SUMMARY: when y/n comes into class crying, Theo doesn’t let it slide and punishes who did it. Y/n then takes him back to her dorm to clean up and as they’re in a perfect position, he takes the chance to make a move.

A/N: english isn’t my first language so lmk if there’s anything wrong with this 🫶.

——————————————————

Headed to your last class for today, potions, you spot your ex, Cormac and his friends. You broke up 3 months ago and he still couldn’t let you go. Therefore, he found different ways to humiliate you, to make fun of you.

As you try to increase your pace, he plops himself in front of you stopping you in your place. “Tried something new with your hair today?” he chuckles, “or is it your face. All the makeup in the world can’t hide that ugly face of yours, neither the even uglier personality in there princess.” he continues pointing at your chest. “Neither the clothes you wear can hide your fat self under there.”

All his friends burst out laughing, humiliated, you run out of the way and to your class. Before you could stop it, a few tears manage to slip down your cheeks on your way there.

You get to class, greet your teacher and stand with the rest of your classmates. After professor Slughorn is finished with the explanation, he puts you into pairs to begin working on your potions.

You get paired up with theo, the boy who’s always trying to get on your nerves, and you’re given a book to start. You begin preparing the potion without saying a word so the tears don’t form again.

After around 5 minutes, theo speaks “mia signora (my lady), thats not the correct ingredient” of course its not, you could barely see with the tears formed in your eyes ready to start dropping any minute.

You look up at him and apologize ”sorry i just have a few things on my mind”. “Bella, why are you crying,” he takes your face in his hands. “Who did this to you, who made you cry, i know you don’t easily cry. Give me names” he says.

“Theo, let it go, it’s nothing im fine.” “No, no, im not letting it go. Someone makes you cry and i have to move on with my day? Give me names and make it much easier for the both of us.” “Cormac, he-” you say as you sob, and before you can continue, he storms out of the class.

“Need a minute, mr nott?” this from Slughorn. You run after the slytherin boy, “nott no!!” In an instant he finds cormac and turns him so that he’s facing theo. He punches him hard, very hard, cormac almost takes a bite out of the floor.

Just then, some of cormac’s friends attack theodore throwing punches and kicks at him, all which he manages to dodge. He’s quick and slick with every punch, every move. Cormac then gets up and speaks “got you a slytherin bf to take care of your problems then huh you little pussy?”

Theodore throws another punch his way and pins him on the floor, next to all his other bloodied, barely moving, friends. “listen to me you little bitch, come her way again and i will make your life a living hell, speak to her one more time and ill rip your tongue out, mention her name anywhere near me and ill make sure you forget how to breathe.”

You’re clueless, you have no clue what to do, you’re just standing there, in utter and ultimate shock. By then, students and teachers storm in the hallway, try to break the fight. Once they’re broken apart, you make your way to theodore.

He has blood dripping from his nose, on his hand, it was all over his face. He’s standing with his friends, matteo, draco, enzo, and blaise. “are you okay nott?” he gives you a quick nod.

Enzo then starts speaking “we offered taking him to the nurse to get him cleaned up but he wont go, maybe you can help clean his wounds, i heard your dad’s a doctor so maybe i thought you can help?”. “Of course i can, come theo I’ll help you from here.”

You take theodore from enzo adjusting his arm on your shoulder so he holds on, and you swear you could see matteo winking theo’s way. You then proceed to walk him to your dorm.

The whole way there none of you speaks a word, and once you get there, you lead him to the bathroom and make him wait there. You get the aid box and sit on the counter, you ask him to come closer and you begin.

You first start by cleaning his nose, the blood dripping from it. You then make your way to his forehead, you carefully remove some of his hair thats covering the part you need to clean.

As you clean him up, he’s looking at you. “It’s not very nice to stare” you tease. To that he doesn’t respond, he keeps his eyes on you so you try something else. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble bc of me, why would you do that? Don’t tell me you care.” you chuckle.

“What did he say to you?” he asks. “I know it was big so don’t try to lie to me bc I’m the only one who’s allowed to piss you off and be mean to you, hell, even ive never disrespected you or made you cry before!”

“Well, he asked if i changed anything in my appearance, he also said..” theo looks up at you. “.. that all the makeup in the world isnt enough to hide my ugly face or personality.” “That bastard!” you feel theo tense. “He also called me.. uhhm.. fat.” “Im gonna fucking kill him.” The boys swears.

“I really can handle it, but i dont know why it affected me to much this time.” you say as you clean his blood off. “I know you can, but let me. Let me teach that bastard a lesson.” “Fighting is not the solution though theodore.” “I know mia cara but I couldn’t control myself, i really didnt mean to but i lost control.” you could see the regret in his eyes.

“Its fine, just really appreciated that, thanks for everything nott.” You give him a small smile. You then start cleaning the blood on his mouth, placing your fingers on his lips, you make sure to clean everything thats left.

“Listen to me,” he cups your face, “he’s a dickhead for not seeing how great of a personality you have, you acquire a great personality, when youre caring and some times even when ur mean.” He gives you a little wink and lets out a snort.

“Thanks” you smile at him then slap a bandage on his nose, to stop his nose from bleeding. After theo realizes you’re done, his hands travel down to remove his own shirt. “Wh-“. Your eyes immediately travel to his abs body, his ab lines, it was if they were drawn on pen and paper.

“Its not very nice to stare,” he teases. “my stomach is also hurt, if you can’t help me with this ill just go back to my dorm” he says with a playful smirk. “No, no i can do something about it.” you get your stuff ready for a second round and then speak “this might hurt a little.”

You then raise the cloth with liquid on it in your hand and place it on his wound. He flinches at the pain and since he’s placed between your legs while you’re sat on the counter, he grabs onto your thigh. He gives it a little squeeze, “fuck cara mia, this hurts like a bitch” he closes his eyes in pain.

“Sorry Theo im almost done.” You apologize. As you finish, Theo looks down at you as you’re still placed on the counter in front of him. “You liked touching my abs didn’t you.” He smiled cockily at you. “As if you didn’t like my hands touching them.” Right back him. “and found a way to touch my thigh.”

“Listen to me, i got you caged up right here,” he says with his hands on either sides of you, “i can do whatever i want to you so you better shut your pretty little mouth up or i wont be able to control myself.” You blush at his comment and try to hide behind your hair to which he tucks it behind your ear.

“You’re so sexy when you’re nervous and shy like that bella ragazza.” He says. “Oh shut up, what does bella ragazza even mean?” you ask, genuine confusion taking over your face. “It means pretty girl.” He smirks. “You think im pretty then hm?” you blush.

He looks at your eyes, stares to be specific, then he looks at your lips for a few seconds before grabbing your face and connecting your lips. You place your hands on his shoulders as the kiss deepens. “Such a pretty girl, a perfect one.” He says in between kisses.

“fuck nott” you say as he places his hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss. He manages to slip his tongue inside your mouth which you moan slightly to. You feel the heat of your body as he places his hands under your thighs and carries you in his arms.

“But it’ll hurt you, nott we cant.” you speak, worried. “Cara mia, you really thought i was hurting?” he smirks, your eyes widen in surprise, you connect your lips again, as he carries you to your bed. He lays you there and removes your shirt slowly and carefully. He then removes the rest of your clothes and begins leaving trails of kisses on your stomach, your hands travel to his hair, playing with it as your stomach tenses at the feeling.

“So perfect,” he mumbles while still trailing kisses on every inch of skin he could get to. “you’re fucking perfect.” The blush takes over your face, uncontrollably making its way to touch ur ears.

His fingers slide down your hips to catch the lace of your panties, getting rid of them. He spreads your legs further and begins kissing the inside of your thighs. He then places a finger on your clit, rubbing circles around it, slowly at first. His movements then quicken, and he includes his tongue. In sync, his fingers circling your clit his tongue licking your clit, you could feel your pre-cum already.

He was so good at this, he was also good at teasing, you arch your back slightly in attempt to speed things up but he uses one hand to push you back down carefully. Then, he pushes 2 fingers inside you with no warning, you moan at the sudden feeling and tug at his hair.

As his tongue and fingers work in sync to throw you over the edge, he adds a third finger in and proceeds to throw your legs over his shoulders. Your feet dig into his skin as he speeds up his movements, back arching so that his face is practically buried in you, one hand grabbing the sheets, the other his hair.

“theo.. im gonna.. fuck!!” you struggle. “do it mia cara, cum on my face.” As he quickens his movements, you tense around him as he guides you through ur high. As you release, Theodore licks you clean, he then moves back up to you kissing you hungrily. “That was fucking amazing.” You praise him. “I don’t think i can walk anymore.” “Well, we’re not quite done yet, i still didnt make love to you yet.”

theo says, smirking as he removes his clothes. He’s just left in his boxers and when he reveals his hard and huge bulge, you gasp out loud. “I didn’t know this is what we’re dealing with, i dont think it’s gonna fit.” you look at theo “we’ll make it fit.” he smirks. Oh. God.

He spreads your legs again, and begins kissing you, at first it’s slow, his tongue slips inside your mouth. “You wanna be on top?” he asks. You nod and he flips over so that you’re laying on top of him. You position yourself properly and once you’re ready, you lower yourself slowly taking most of him in.

You then start moving up and down, riding him. Your hands lying on his stomach as you do so. “Think you can handle more of me?” he suggests. “I can try.” You smirk as you flip so he’s on top of you. He spreads your legs even further, as you take him all in. You moan his name at the feeling and he leans down to kiss you, you moan a few times into his mouth before he moves to kissing your neck. You grab onto the bed sheets for dear life as he kisses your neck on the weak spot.

“Cavolo, posso farlo tutto il giorno. mi prendi così perfettamente.” he says something in italian. (Fuck, i can do this all day. you take me so perfectly.) You can feel yourself ready to come again so you warn him, he also lets you know that he’s about to come too. “Come inside me” you say. Just then, you both reach your highs and come together.

After you’re done, theo lays next to you, “yknow you’re actually the prettiest girl ive seen.” he praises. You blush as he keeps speaking. “Ive wanted to do this a long time ago, but i was so scared of you.” “Me?” You chuckle. “Then why were you always rude to me?” “I thought getting on your nerves was the only way to talk to you.”

You look at him and laugh some before he gets up and runs to turn the water on. “Come, let’s get cleaned up before any of my friends decide to show up.” He speaks. “They know my room number?” you ask confused. “Of course they do.” He smiles before disappearing into the bathroom again. “Nott!!” you call his name, “i dont think i can walk.” He leaves the bathroom chuckling and heads toward you to carry you there.

#harry potter #slytherin #theodore nott #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #smutty fanfiction #smut #slytherin smut #slytherin boys

[r3starttt]

PUT AWAY THE PRIDE

Summary: fucking ur bff who's in a relationship with a man, ew!

cw: hate sex. comphet abby. homophobic bf ew!!!!. dom!abby sub!reader. fingering. sissoring. pet names. (baby, pretty girl) finger sucking. prasing kink(?

an: creds to @atyourmerci for the Abby pic!!!

If you want it, you can have it. If you need it, we can make it

"Are you fucking- god abby" he'd crossed the line. That line that was invisible to you but still the thiniest for abby, until now, or so you wished because she'd go back to him once you've made your 'shoulder to cry on' function.

Abby was mad, even behind a phone you could feel how she couldn't bare him for now. You had no clue what happened just knew Abby's boyfriend had fucked it all again and she needed you, again.

The usual routine you forced yourself to not get used to but somehow became it, a routine. "Yeah, you know you can always.... just hurry" you ended the call abruptly. Otherwise, abby would not only be mad at that man, and nor you or her could take that kind of encounter currently.

You knew she was on her way already. So once more, with legs crossed on top of your coffee table, you did nothing but wait for her to arrive at your appartment. It always made you feel pathetic.

Her boyfriend despised you to say the least, from the moment you first met. And honestly you never knew why, even though you begged abby at one point to ask him herself just to not cause any trouble yourself. It didn't work.

You've had some alone encounters with him whenever Abby took you out and he had to be there. Nicely asking how his week or day had been, trying to make a small conversation with the typical 'long time no see, huh' or directly asking him - at one point, what the fuck was his problem with you. He was so stupidly manlish with his demeanor towards you it made you think if maybe abby wasn't using the proper words to describe you. Like he wasn't the problem.

On the other hand, your relationship with abby became confusing as her relationship with him grew bigger. Like it's toxicity was slowly getting to her, to you.

And not the type to ruin the friendship forever but just ruin the platonic. The one where sometimes spending time alone ends up in you drunk not moving your eyes away from her lips as she speak, or the one that makes her rest her hands somewhere on your body whenever you go out with friends. The one that ends in a weird exchange of words whenever you try to talk about it.

It was still unbearable tho. Always third-wheeling, then fighting with eyes only every time you made accidental eye contact with him, and eye fucking abby whenever he didn't pay attention to her, or you. Or feeling abby eating you alive with the eyes, just for denying it all later but not completely because you two had always been in the type of friendship where you're close with your friend to a point there's no shame about anything and you can make those type of jokes.

Jokes that somehow turned passive aggressive, not only between you two but also between abby and that men you equally despise.

"The fuck did he do now, mhm?" You sighed, resting your face on top of your shoulder, letting all your weight press over the shared couch. Drunk eyes paying detailed attention to Abby as she spoke. "I'm a fucking mess, that's all" she seemed off, something that genuinely troubled you considering how stubborn she was. "You're not, well, a... decent, nice mess" her laugh was gorgeous, it made you smile the moment you hear it. Her eyes met yours, as if you could talk with just that, a look. "Thanks"

"He's the problem. Even with that personality of yours, you've done no wrong" she pouted, it could only mean this was getting awkward for her. You couldn't care any less. "You're fucking charming abby, and it kills me youre with such person. Also, a man? Be for real" it was a joke, but that look on her face, it wasn't such simple for her. "I'm just saying, you're hot and so young and you have so much shit to live, he's holding you from that"

Abby turned around, her usual braided hair danced along her back, resting near her face. A sudden smile elicted on her face, she was about to bother you. "You think so?" You furrowed your brows, confused at what she meant "I'm hot?" She cleared herself. You just laughed, nodding while desperately trying to readjust yourself in a less compromised position, so near to her. "I know so"

"Yeah?" She left the glass with alcohol in it resting somewhere beside her. You smiled back at her, feeling her weight get overwhelming over you every second. You had to stop it. "Want more?" You didn't know bit alcohol would eventually become your one salvation from sin and fall into temptation.

Abby went home that night, just to hear him talking shit about you, and it clicked. She tried hard to give him a chance, because that meant she could have a chance as well. A chance for what? To prove she wasn't fantasizing about you in a way more than a friendship, to give all but you a taste and make her mind on what she liked and how she liked it. It failed, abruptly.

Because she lost time and wasted her persona in such men like him. And after running to you every time she couldn't bare it anymore, looking at your hands, neck, lips, eyes whenever she got drunk, after having so many late night talks with you whenever the awkwardness she felt wasn't rough enough to not keep her sober, she realized she could not run away from you, in fact, she needed you and needed to run in your direction every time. She had to give you a chance now.

That's the reason behind his hate towards you. No matter what, you'd always be her biggest priority. And god, she changed so much when she was with you, she'd transform into the girl he fell in love with, the one he lost once they actually started dating.

You had such a delightful effect on her, and he hated the idea of not being able to be the one for her.

Yet whenever he'd ask about you, abby would only say how close you two were since forever and how you wouldn't be a bother in the relationship. All of that was pure lies to keep it calm.

And those replies eventually got to you, like a day after that night you swore she wanted to kiss you. "I was drunk, doesn't mean anything" "what? You think I'll kiss you?" You wanted to dragg her back home with that man she'd found and make it clear you wouldn't let her be such an asshole. You didn't of course, both just laughed it off.

Until now, you couldn't wait for her to come and make it all clear, she was mad and it might not be the greatest idea but why should you care if she's not in the mood? You weren't the one behind that mood, not guilty of any of her shit.

Or that was the plan, because seeing the tears contained on the corner of her eyes, right about to fall and make a mess on her face. You simply couldn't.

"What did he do?" It wasn't the typical scenario. This was an unexplored rage, as if there was some sort of attraction that grew stronger as every second passed by. Maybe this was it, you thought.

Abby's red eyes met yours in such a relieved way, like she'd found something she felt eager to find. It was just you.

It caught you out of guard the way her hands travelled to the sides of your arms. " I realized I needed you"

The only thing you could come up with was a stupid 'huh'. Wandering your eyes all over her face and body. Abby had her own locked on you, probably as confused as you.

She had to. Her salty lips pressed on you, followed by the palms of her hands. You reciprocated, standing still but trusting your lips to do all the work necessary.

It's sloppy and messed, a silent fight between the silence that fills the ignored pain you're feeling and the anger she's been carrying all the way here.

It was miserable, her palms on your body, trying to find a way to bring you closer as you tried- not to step back but to prevent yourself from getting into it. Abby was only yours for a couple of hours and it was painful to have her so close to you but not having the actual chance to claim her yours.

"Fucking hate you for this" you murmured. Her eyebrows scrunched, there was such an euphoric feeling inside her, a mix of fear, confusion and anger. All for you

"Yeah?" She mocked you, resting her hands on the inside of your clothed stomach. "It could've been different"

"It will be" her lips smacked aggressively over yours again, trailing a path down your jawline.

Her fingers moved up your back, getting rid of your bra in such a pathetic way. You took her shirt off, trying to take the closest and clearest look of what you would never be able to have you you craved so much.

She laughed at it, doing the same for you. Her hands swayed all the way down your ass, gripping it with such force it burned. You let out a chocked breath, feeling her lips move on their own way down your body.

Her knee stepped in between your legs, so easily you could feel the vibration from her chuckle right in the middle your breasts. Fucking torture you've got yourself into.

She couldn't get enough but had to, running her fingers along your waist, down your cunt. Her fingers slide in between your slicked folds, slowly outside your cloathed arousal, begging for her.

Her palms slapped over it severely times, eliciting open mouth whimpers out of you, deliciously filled with her tongue against yours to shut you.

You tried to get her to stop, only receiving groans as a response. Until she got tired of it "fucking shut up and take it, be good, can't you?"

There wasn't a specific idea on her mind but take as much as possible out of you, to make a memory in honor to that gross man she ever felt the slightest of attraction to. Mocking you and him for her own pleasure, once in her whole life she thought.

Her fingers finally touched your clit, ager for it. The circles over it were so slow, you kept bucking your hips on her hands, attempting to get more friction. "Fucking stay still" abby groaned, thrusting her fingers inside you. God it felt glorious.

You voiced the most perfect whimpers for her, the way her name came out of your mouth, followed by the most prettiest pleads. It was driving her insane.

The sounds coming out of you were so obscene. Abby couldn't be in such good paradise

She made sure to curl her fingers at every thrust, speeding enough to make it painfully confusing for you.

Her lips kept busy shushing you, taking a taste of your nipples, your clavicle, every inch of your body.

"Shit- c'here" you demanded, dragging her by the jawline as the knot on your stomach grew overwhelmingly fast. She tastes better than anything you've ever had in your life, something worth the pain it'll cause you later when she's gone.

You let out a loud cry at the abruptly of her actions, leaving you empty. "Open" her middle and index finger fully covered in your wetness. You obeyed, feeling the palms of her fingers rest in your tongue, forcing you to take a taste. "Doing so good f' me, such a pretty girl"

She dragged you to the couch, the one that brought you closer that day she'd first approach to you in this way, whatever this was. The one that brought you closer when she left that day, and whe she laughed this off. Such an ironic situation.

It all brought a series of conflicting thoughts to your mind. Distracting you from such pleasure you should be enjoying.

Her hands grabbed the hooks of your jeans, dragging them down your legs. She made sure to get in charge of all the hard work, you should've notice-

Her weight was already on top of you. The way her eyes wandered all over you face, it was different. Your hands got locked by hers, breathing heavily at the sudden sight and feeling that ran through your body, that made you forget whatever was keeping your mind busy some seconds ago.

"Spread 'em open, be a good girl f'me" Abby groaned the moment she could finally get to be so close to you. Letting all of her weight rest over your body, aggressively humping in between your legs, rubbing her clit against yours.

Your ears were filled by her whimpers, groans whenever she got too overwhelmed. There was nothing you could to but let her use you for her own pleasure, not that you weren't use to it.

"Fuck baby... so good f'me, so so good" she whined, speeding her moves in between your legs. There could never be a better sight than this.

Some locks of her hair starting to stick on her forehead, the sweat covering her abs, her arms flexing to support her own way and oh, all this just for you to see. Sure he'd never seen such scenario.

She sounded so fucking pretty, on top of you, crying at how deliciously your clits rubbed together. You, on the other hand, felt like just cumming by the sight, by the idea of her body displayed like this.

Your thighs were ridiculously covered in both your and her slick, it increased at her every move, sloppy and messy, such a desperate disaster.

Your pleads and whines were completely ignored, she'd already given you what you needed and ni longer cared about whatever you felt you needed or deserved. This was about her.

Still you managed to wrap around her, feeling her drench your thighs even more as a breathless 'fuck' came out of her lips, letting go of your hands, already getting numb at her grip.

"See? Promised you it'll get better"

#dom abby anderson #Abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x chubby reader #abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x masc!reader #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x black reader #abby x reader smut

[mionemymind]

Lost in the Universe (Part 1)

Summary: Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Slight Angst?

A/n: I know I haven't written in a while. But recently I've been on a surge to start writing again. I hope you all enjoy and please tell me honestly how you feel about it. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Part 2

Y/n dropped into a new universe, barely landing on her feet. She scrambled to find balance as the portal above her closed. “What the fuck?” Y/n wiped off her hands as she looked around the unfamiliar area. 

“Are you lost dekta?” Y/n spun around at the sound of her voice. A smile plastered on Y/n’s face when she saw Wanda. She took a couple of steps when she felt something was different with the girl in front of her. “Wanda?”

The brunette chuckled at the obvious confusion. “It’s me dekta.” Y/n still grew apprehensive. She looked around the location she was in. They were on a simple farm surrounded by acres of grape trees. There was a barn and home in the distance and sheep and cows grazed the plain. “I don’t think you’re my Wanda though,” Y/n said as kindly as possible. It was scary to be in a new world without a clue as to how they operate. Even though Y/n knew that the woman in front of her wasn’t exactly her Wanda, it still gave her some type of peace knowing there was a version of her here. 

“And you’re not my Y/n.” Y/n’s nerves eased with the comment as Wanda broke the distance between them. “So let’s get you back to my home and figure out how this happened.” 

“Make yourself at home.” Wanda took off her dirty boots at the front and walked to the kitchen. She took the kettle out from the drawer and filled it with water. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Is that your favorite in your world?”

“It is!” Y/n yelled from the front of the house. She took off her shoes and jacket, hoping to not get the house dirty. The entrance of the house led them into a decent-sized living room filled with various decorations and plants. 

Y/n didn’t mean to snoop but she couldn’t help but look at all the photos framed on the wall and tables. The first photo that caught her eye was a picture of young Wanda and Pietro back in what Y/n could guess was their hometown. She picked it up and analyzed it in detail.

“I miss him,” Y/n whispered to herself. Wanda noticed this as she walked in with two cups of hot chocolate. “We were only five in that photo. I think we went to the zoo that day. Probably one of our better pictures when we were younger. Everything else is either him or me or the both of us crying.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wanda nodded for approval, “is your Pietro still alive?” Wanda could sense this was a sensitive subject and gave Y/n one of the cups while directing her to the couch. 

“Yes, my Pietro is still alive. Currently, he’s away on work.” Y/n gave a small smile, the feeling of missing Pietro grew inside. “I’m happy to hear that.” Y/n took a small sip of her hot chocolate, making sure not to spill the hot drink on herself. 

“So your Y/n likes hot chocolate?” Wanda smiled in agreement. “Yes, my Y/n does like hot chocolate. She’s the only reason I have some. I’m just glad that part of her is with you as well. I hope it finds you comfort though because it must be scary to be in a completely different universe.”

“Well,” Y/n thought maybe lying would help ease her anxiety, but the presence of Wanda, even though it wasn’t necessarily her Wanda, made her want to tell the truth, “it is scary. I’m just hoping they find me. But you have been pretty calm for this whole ‘I managed to drop on your farm out of all the locations in this universe’ thing.” 

“Your humor appears to be the same no matter the universe,” Wanda playfully said. “But the reason I’m not freaking out is because in this universe, I’m aware of my other counterparts. Luckily enough, you dropped into a universe where I have my powers.” Wanda proceeded to show off her magic, covering Y/n in red swirls momentarily. 

“Are you able to drop me back home?” Wanda politely smiled, setting her cup down on the table nearby. “I’m sorry dekta. I unfortunately don’t have that type of power as of yet.” 

Y/n sighed in defeat, her anxiety coming back with worried thoughts. Wanda reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand in a comforting manner. Even in different universes, Wanda Maximoff cared for Y/n Y/l/n. This was a simple fact that would not change. “However, your Wanda is currently on the hunt for you.” 

“She is?” Y/n placed her cup down, her hand still interlaced with Wanda’s. “The rules of the universe don’t allow any conversation to happen between each other but we can still feel each other. So when you dropped into my world, I could feel the slight imbalance. But, you just happen to be dating one of the most powerful people in the universe.” Y/n blushed at the compliment, already knowing that she was lucky to even date Wanda in the first place. 

“And the perk of dating powerful people is that we can feel other things in different universes. Right now, I can feel her dropping into other universes, trying her best to find you.”

“What if she can’t find me?” Y/n pouted. Wanda smiled even more. It was refreshing to see that their love expanded beyond her world. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek with her free hand, “This is something I will share only with you.” Listening intently, “You and your Wanda have a special connection. Think of it as a tether. Right now, she’s tugging on that tether hoping that if she continues to pull on it, it will lead back to you. No amount of magic, power, or science can cause this tether to break. It might be a little tangled with how many universes you might’ve accidentally gone through, but she will reach you in time.” 

“So believe me when I say this dekta, Wanda will always find you.” Wanda kissed Y/n’s forehead and proceeded to get up. “In the meantime, my Y/n is away on a mission. You’re free to stay here with me until all of this gets sorted out.”

Wanda walked back to the front of the house, putting her shoes back on. “Is there anything I can do to help out while I wait?”

“Wanna help me with the goats?” 

After a long day of work, Wanda and Y/n lay in the hammock near the campfire, admiring the stars that the night offered. “When I looked at your photos, I noticed none of them were of just you and I, how come?” 

Wanda blushed at the directness and was thankful that it was nighttime. “You see, my Y/n and I aren’t dating yet.” Y/n faced Wanda with a ridiculous look. “Are you serious? How come I haven’t confessed? If there’s a world where there’s a you and an I, then we must be together.”

“I’m not sure. We bought this farm together to get away from the city and have some peace time before they spring our next mission on us. Even then, she doesn’t seem to have the courage to confess.” Wanda sighed, her patience was running thin but she knew it was worth the wait. 

“Do you need me to get myself together?” Wanda laughed at the offer, clearly imagining two Y/n’s talking to each other. “I’ll probably be the one to have to confess first if she doesn’t do it soon.” 

“Just to be sure, does the Y/n here like you like that?” 

“Oh, I’m more than positive that my Y/n likes me back,” Wanda cockily states. 

“What makes you so certain? Back then, it took me forever to confirm that my Wanda even liked me.”

“Cause within our tethers, I can feel her. I’ve only ever felt her. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to tie me to her if she didn’t feel the same way.” There was more to the truth than Wanda could let on, because in every universe, Y/n and Wanda always fall in love with each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the era, and no matter the time. 

“I didn’t know the universe could be kind like that.” 

They continued to star watch when a red portal in the sky opened up and out came two figures. One landed roughly as the other descended slowly onto the ground. Y/n and Wanda got up from their hammock and walked towards them. 

“Wanda?” Y/n yelled out in the distance, hoping it was them and not an alien invasion. “Y/n?!” Wanda came rushing into Y/n’s arm, feeling her worries slip away as she finally was with her again. “I thought I lost you,” Wanda stated with worry. Today had been a long day for her and America Chavez. Hopping from universe to universe was hard, especially with a young teen that has no clue how to control her powers. 

“You could never lose me,” Y/n stated confidently. Wanda pulled back from the hug and sealed a kiss, one that made both of their knees weak and minds numb with love. Pulling away slowly, pressing their foreheads against each other, Wanda said, “Let's go home dekta.” 

Y/n nodded in agreement and intertwined their hands. They walked back to the portal but not before Y/n waved goodbye to this universe’s Wanda. “I hope she confesses soon!” 

Wanda smiled back in return and waved. Telepathically, Wanda said, “Thank you for taking care of my Y/n.” 

“Anytime, Wanda.” 

Part 2

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @shadowybailiffdreamer-donkey @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @second-try-stevie @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha @itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @isitallreallyworthit @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff @imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​ @olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00

A/n: I just used the same tag list from Fake Memories. If you didn't want to be tagged, I'm sorry.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fluff #lost in the universe #marvel #wanda maximoff fluff

[ultralightpoe]

Avoidance - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Clearing out drafts and found this puppy, there is a part two but I have to edit it.. Enjoy!

Word count: 3833

Warnings: Angst.

Enjoy!

This was weird, and by weird you mean absolutely outrageous. You honestly had no clue when it started, but you had racked your brain for the past month to try and see where you had gone wrong. Something you might have said or done to make things this way. 

You had to have done something. 

Because a month ago Bucky Barnes had been your best friend on this earth, stuck together at the hip. A month ago your friendship had been forged by steel, you would rarely see one without the other. Dinners and sleepovers and missions together. It was Bucky and Y/n, Y/n and Bucky. 

It had been a friendship that had started off a little rocky, since Bucky had been stuck to Steve’s side, quiet as ever. You had been a bit too much when he came to the compound, excited to welcome him and show him the best the new world has to offer since you yourself had been a victim of Hydra as well. 

You had once been an excited scientist ready to change the world of medicine and instead had come out a mutant that could talk to plants. Years of pain and finally you were meeting someone you might be able to help. 

But Bucky had not enjoyed your help, in fact he didn’t seem to enjoy you at all. When you first met years ago he would all but leave the room whenever you came in. 

At first you felt pathetic, and a little bit annoying, but Bucky finally opened up. He apologized and explained that he was nervous, nervous to be around you and nervous that you would have recognized him. 

Soon after that he came to you for cooking advice and movie nights, you showed him the plants and best healing herbs. You told Bucky everything….. Well almost everything.

You had never told him how you truly felt. How your heartbeat through your chest everytime he looked at you, or the way your lungs seemed to expand for easier air when he spoke to you. Never admit to the heat that filled your body every time you touched him. 

You never admitted to loving him, but that was because you were sure that he would start avoiding you again just like he had when you first met. 

Not that it mattered because he started avoiding you again anyways. 

You think about the day you met him  as you shuffle about your apartment in Stark Tower, barefoot on the cold floors as you try to let the nail polish dry easily and clean up the living room. 

- 

The compound smelled of heavy lemon cleaning solution and you couldn’t decide if you loved or hated the smell, but that didn’t really matter now as you dashed through the halls. Your shoes clapped against the freshly cleaned floors as you did your ebay to fix your lab coat and hair. 

You were supposed to meet Steve and Nat at the quinjet landing pad 30 minutes ago, but had ended up taking a few more patients for the day before Mr. Stark had reminded you to clock out. 

You were leading his new medicinal lead, a program that would offer access to better medicine to the people of the world. And though he loved working in the lab with you he often had to remind you not to overwork yourself. 

You just wish he had reminded you a little sooner today since you were desperate to make a good first impression. And that wasn’t going to happen if you were late. 

“No running in the halls!” Clint calls in a teasing manner which makes you punch his arm as you pass, nearly tripping yourself up since you weren’t paying attention but finally you were hopping up the stairs to the rooftop exit, covered in sweat as you hear the thunderous sound of the quinjet wings starting up again. 

You push the heavy door open and gasp in surprise when Steve and a brunette stranger lean back with wide eyes, the door barely skimming the blonde’s nose. 

“There she is, dangerous as usual.” Nat smiles, coming around to hug you as you shut the door quieter this time. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry I am late-” You start, hugging your best friend before moving to hug Steve who lifts you a little when he hugs back, kissing your hair line before letting you go and backing up so you could see his friend.  “You must be Bucky.”

You move to hug him, realizing your mistake a second too late when he backs up, his fists tightening at his sides while his arctic blue eyes widen like a caged animal, his jaw tenses. He had been prepared for a fight, so you take a step back, even out your lab coat and try to smile. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m y/n.”

He nods, the quinjet taking off in the back which makes you and him both flinch, the wind whipping your hair around before Steve is pulling you by your arm as softly as he can to lead you both inside. 

“We were just talking about getting something to eat-” Steve begins when they finally close the door. 

“Oh, we could take him to that diner that you like Stevie. The one that has the old school food-”

“Maybe just us tonight.” Nat interrupts, casting a nervous look to where Bucky stands in the corner, jaw still tense. 

You read the room easily, Nat must know Bucky doesn’t want to be near you right now so you simply nod, giving them one more smile before reaching your hand out to him. “It was great to meet you…..”

He ignores your hand and you have to awkwardly shove it back into your pocket before nodding, taking your leave as Nat mumbles to him in russian. 

- 

When you are sure your apartments are clean enough you leave for your lab shift a little early so that you could stop by Bucks apartment, nervous as can be when you make it there. 

Reaching a hand up to knock lightly and wait, your feet shuffling on the floors as you rub at your eyes from the lack of sleep, trying to keep yourself awake. When the door creaks open the tiniest bit you pull your hands down quickly and try to act cool when you make eye contact with Bucky. 

“Hey Buck.” You smile, doing your best to act happy. He stares for a moment, blue eyes flashing in excitement that gets your hopes up as he opens the door a little wider. 

“Mornin’.” He grunts out, looking back to check the time before turning to you once more. “A bit early isn’t it?”

“Yes. Sorry. I was heading to the lab but I wanted to see if you still wanted to have dinner tonight? I get off at 5 but-”

“I’m a bit busy tonight, sorry Do-Y/n.” He clears his throat, using his flesh fingers to comb his hair back. 

“You sure? It’s pancake night at the diner-”

“Not tonight. I will see you later, Y/n.” He sighs, giving you one last smile before shutting the door softly. 

You stay there a moment, trying to calm your nerves as you hear a small thump on the other side of the door and assume he must have locked it so you simply sigh and walk to the lab where Tony is chugging a large cup of coffee. 

“Morning dork.” He greets, smiling a bit as he nods his head to the box of donuts to the side. “Since you have been down lately.”

You didn’t want to admit to Tony that you had ‘been down’ because you missed Bucky, that would be embarrassing and might clue him in to your crush. So you give him your best smile, and kiss his cheek before moving to your station to begin working. 

But you can’t get Bucky out of your head. All you can think is ‘what did I do? Why is he mad at me? How can I fix this?”

Anxiety claws at your nerves, and you are too far into your thoughts to notice the chaos that your anxiety is ensuing over the lab. That is until you hear both Tony and Bruce curse and jump back, glass shattering. 

Your head snaps back to where they are both trying to regain their footing and find that the small houseplant Pepper had given Bruce for his birthday had grown tenfold. The vines covered most of the lab. 

“Apparently the donuts did not cheer her up.” Bruce sighs, both of them turning to where you are standing with your hands clenched around a beaker and a pen as tight as they would go. 

“I’m so sorry guys-”

“Can you undo it?” Bruce asks gently and you scoff.

“Can you undo damages to buildings when you-”

“I know I know. I’m sorry.” He laughs, waving his hands. “Hulk smashes, poison ivy grows plants-”

“I’m not-”

“She’s not poison ivy.” Tony snaps in your defense and you feel a wave a love for him before he ruins it. “She’s itchy oak.”

“You are so dead!” 

- 

Bucky was screwed. So unbelievably screwed.

This whole plan was tearing him apart, and he didn’t think he could hold out much longer, even smelling your shampoo this morning had him ready to crack. Pull you into his arms and never let you go. 

But he couldn’t, Natasha had told him not to. 

This started the day he met you, the day he fell in love. 

He had been standing on the quinjet with Steve and Nat, trying to pretend as though he wasn’t losing his mind at all the commotion. The sounds of the Quinet queuing up behind them, the wind nipping at his cheeks and neck as he thought of all the spots snipers could be hiding in the buildings by them though Stark Tower stood tall enough no one should be able to shoot him. He just couldn’t help it; he was a soldier. 

Nat seemed to realize his tension, pushing both men forward to the door before it swung open, a hair's breadth from Steve’s face. He hears Nat giggle and the quinjet start up again as his eyes finally land on you. 

There you were, perfection in human form. Sunlight and warmth and…..just everything he could ever want. 

His brain barely registered you moving to hug him before he moved back, tensing and letting the fear control him. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m Y/n.” You had said and he saw what looked to be nervousness covering your face as his heart lurched. Two seconds in and he was already ruining you. 

All he could think was ‘monster. Monster monster monster.”

It took weeks for Steve to convince him to talk to you. 

And he was so grateful he did. 

- 

The lab was bright, and there was not a speck of dust in sight. And yet, somehow, the room that should have reminded him most of Hydra didn’t feel like it. Rather than a cold brightness it was warm lights from the glass windows and the desks were decorated with plants and photos. Little knick knacks strewn about that showed that the people who worked in here were human, good and warm humans. 

And then his eyes landed on your desk, where you currently concentrated on something he could barely comprehend, a beautiful cactus in a decorated pot on the shelf by you. 

Wiping the sweat on his pants, and taking a deep breath in before he moves up to where you were. 

“You don’t have to water cacti.” He blurts, gasping out when you shout in shock , the back on your head hitting the shelf. 

“What?” You gasp out, rubbing your head. 

“I read…” He takes a second to breathe in. “I read somewhere that you don’t have to water them everyday. They are self-sufficient.”

“Oh! Yeah, they like water every 2 weeks and of course sunlight but….” You trail off, turning to the small cactus that seems to stand taller at your attention. Then you turn back to him with a nervous smile. “What are you doing? Are you feeling ill?”

“Me? No. I was…. I was actually wondering if you would show me that diner you had talked about the day I came-”

“YES!” You blurt, jumping up and taking your lab coat off. “I am starving.”

He spent the next three hours with you at the diner, talking about everything in the new world that he had found. 

- 

Weekly dinners turned into hanging out every day. Which was amazing because Bucky felt like he could truly breathe when he was with you. 

There was no Winter Soldier, there was no Soviet Soldier. There was no World War 2 sniper. With you he was Bucky. 

But he fell in love with you, and he had no clue how to talk to you about that. He was terrified that you would never talk to him again. 

Which lead him to this. 

“Maybe you just need a break.” Nat suggested last month, watching him try to climb off the sparring mat and catch his breath. 

“I do.” He snaps. “I don’t know how you are never out of breath -”

“I meant from y/n.” She corrects. “Just take a breather. You both are so wrapped up in each other that you forget to breathe without each other. Codependency hurts more when it’s forcefully torn rather than willingly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take a break on your terms. Just a breather Barnes. You are tearing yourself apart.”

“So what do I do? Just not hang out with her? I can’t breathe when I’m not with her-”

“That’s my point..” She sighs. 

- 

“I don’t get it… why are you mad?” Bucky asks, craning his neck to watch you shuffle around behind the couch, snatching the snacks you brought over and climbing over the couch before you are cuddled into his side and near his warmth. 

“I’m mad, Buck, because you just admitted to an actual sin.” You mumble, allowing him to wrap you in the blanket and pull you closer. “How have you not seen it yet? Everyone has. Hunger Games is a national…..”

“National?” He asks, eyebrow lifting as he waits for you to finish your sentence, reaching a hand up to rub his thumb over your cheek, lovingly. 

“Well I don’t want to say treasure because that just feels wrong since it’s a bunch of kids fighting to the death but everyone needs to see it once.” You gush and he can’t help but smile as you snatch the remote and start the movie. “I brought twizzlers so-”

He cuts you off by snatching the twizzlers and moving you both around so your head was laying on his chest and your legs intertwined with his own. “What’s with that guy's beard? And why is the other guy's hair blue?”

“Just you wait……”

- 

“Did I say something to upset him?” You ask Steve, following him around the kitchen like a lost duck while he cooks dinner for the team tonight.  “What did I do Steve?”

“I don’t think you did anything.” He sighs, giving you a pitious glance, before he starts chopping tomatoes. “Buck practically worships the ground you walk on, trust me I would know if you did something wrong.”

“I just don’t underst-” Before you could finish your sentence Steve watches as your phone rings and Yelena’s face pops up. You give him an apologetic glance before leaving the room, and right as you leave one door his best pal comes in another. 

“Need any help?” Bucky asks, with Sam slinking behind him with a bag of chips. 

“No junk food before dinner.” He snaps, snatching the bag and tossing it to the side which makes Sam groan out and move to grab a drink, stopping at the sight of the shriveled plant. 

“Someone get rid of that before Y/n sees it.”  He laughs, making the other two look to it. 

“I watered that plant 30 minutes ago.” Steve gasps, “it was fully alive before she came in-”

“You mean…. You mean to tell me Y/n drained a plant?” Sam asks, casting a side eye to where Bucky stands with a worried look. 

“Is she okay?” He asks, walking up and using his flesh hand to touch at the leaves before he picks up the pot and pulls it close to himself. “I’m gonna get rid of this before she sees what happened to it.”

“You should talk to her, Buck.” Steve sighs. “She’s worried that she did something.” 

- 

The rain beat against the window harshly, thunder rumbling in the distance as the smell of the spearmint candle you lit earlier fills the air. 

Bucky wakes up slowly, exhaustion still filling his body as he swipes a hand to rub his eyes, lifting his head ever so slightly to see what had managed to wake him up. Vision blurry as he surveys the room for threats only to find you curled in on yourself with vines covering your arms. 

Panic claws at him, moving forward to push the hair out of your face and wake you slowly, kissing at your forehead. 

You open your eyes slowly, and he whispers to help ease your anxiety, kissing the corner of your lips as he rubs at your arms. “What’s going on?”

“Bad dream…” You mumble out, shoving your face in his chest. 

“What were you dreaming about?” 

“My cell.” His spine tightens as he remembers what you had to go through. The damp and moldy cell they kept you in, the years of abuse and torture. Of course the rainstorm would draw these memories out. 

“Come here, doll” He whispers, pulling the blanket tighter around you both and keeping a tight hold on you. “Just stay with me, yeah? We’ll be alright together.”

You both fall back asleep, keeping a tight hold on eachother. 

-

Three mornings later you find yourself prepped and ready to go for the mission, nerves racking through your body as you walk to the loading bay of the quinjet. With your duffel bag strewn over one shoulder and your gloves in your hand as you try to smile at Bucky. 

“Hey Buck.” You start, watching everyone else in their suits. “Are you ready for the mission?” 

“As ready as I can be…. Did you sleep last night?” He asks, stepping closer with a worried expression before thinking and stepping back. 

“Not really. I was actually hoping to talk to you before the-”

“Alright Barnes. Are you ready?” Natasha asks, coming up behind him. “We need to talk about-”

“Wait, what?” You interrupt, heart clenching. “Are you…..wait are you guys teaming up this session?” 

You truly didn’t want to seem lame when you asked this, but you were so confused. “Buck, we always pair up.”

Why did you feel like a middle schooler again? 

“Well, sometimes things change. And Nat is down a partner since Clint is with his family.” Bucky blushes, looking between you and Nat as she narrows her eyes. 

Feeling your eyes fill with tears you rush to go into the quinjet, dashing past Steve to find a spot. 

The blonde narrows his eyes and marches to his friend, where Nat is already digging in. “What was that?” 

“What was what?” Bucky asks nervously, eyes casting everywhere else. 

“I told you to take a break, Barnes. Not cut her off.” Nat snaps.

“Why did you tell him to cut her off?” Steve asks, hands on his hips as he glares at the two of them.

“I didn’t say to cut her off. I said to take a break.”

“Why?!” 

“Because he loves her!”

“Still not catching up.” Steve sighs. “Why take a break if he loves her?”

“Because she is never gonna love me back!” His friend snaps, “She controls plants and I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster-”

“We’ll talk about this later.” Bucky snaps and storms off. 

- 

The waitress at the old school diner recognized you and Bucky by now, smiling at you both as you walked in with your hands entwined. She nods her head to your normal booth and Bucky leads the way. 

You eat dinner, listening to Bucky talk about his day before the waitress comes by with a sunday. 

“The older couple sent this for you guys.” She smiles. “They said you were an adorable couple.”

Your face goes beet red, blanching out before you rush out. “We’re not a couple.”

Bucky gets embarrassed by this, the blatant rejection. Meanwhile you were worried about the fact that Bucky would realize your crush. 

“D-Did you still want to watch Star Trek tomorrow?” You ask nervously. 

“Actually I have to train with Nat tomorrow.” He sighs, ears going pink as he blushes. 

- 

The rain outside the quinjet was alarming, your nerves were beginning to get the best of you, but you were trying to remain cool as you avoided looking in Bucky’s direction. 

With your leg shaking and Sam prattling off different codes you tried to focus on anything else but the rain, anything, just so long as you didn’t lose your cool right now. 

You were nervous, because of the rain and the fact that you would be the only one without a partner, but most of all you were angry. 

What had you done to Bucky to be cut out this way? 

A five year friendship completely cut off with no explanation as to why. Treated like the scum on a shoe and for what? What had you done and why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Y/n?” Sam calls, snapping your attention up to him as he peers at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You fake a laugh, hands fisted into your sides as you hear a flash of thunder in the distance, thoughts going back to that moldy and cold cell they had kept you in. You could still feel the vines leaching across your body in an attempt to keep you warm, using all your strength just to grow them. 

“Because Steve has been calling your name for three minutes.” Sam whispers which makes you turn to where Steve is standing with a deeply concerned look. Bucky and  Nat sit together behind him, both of them holding concerned looks of their own. 

Making eye contact with Bucky, watching his blue eyes melt at you, before an angry vile feeling loosens in your chest. You didn’t want any of their pity. 

If he didn’t want to talk to you then so be it. 

So you simply turn away and nod to Steve, turning to the front so you don't have to look at any of them. 

If Barnes wanted to cut you out then so be it. You would cut him out as well.

Part Two

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel angst #marvel fluff #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smu #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #barnes #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky angst #winter soldier #winter soldier smut #winter soldier angst #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine

[girlgenius1111]

you can face this

barça x reader

r struggles with an eating disorder. her teammates catch on.

this [obviously] contains descriptions of an eating disorder. do not read if this could be triggering to you. please, just don't.

-----

You hadn't really realized that it had gotten bad again. It was one of those things that crept on you, unconscious bad habits making a return until you had fully relapsed. It was 0-100, and it was even more complicated now that you played for Barça. Not just because of the overbearing teammates, but also because your fitness was strictly kept track of- you had to remain at a weight that wouldn't flag with the physios, or affect your strength too much. But another part of you still hated that number on the scale- it was a constant battle between those two parts of you. The rational side, trying to keep it together, and the not so rational side that didn't care what it destroyed on it's quest to be smaller.

You kept up a surprisingly strong façade. It was easier when the team wasn't traveling, and obviously more complicated when you were. You lived alone in Barcelona, in a perfect little apartment, rather close by to the homes of your teammates, namely Alexia. She liked the younger players to live nearby, so she could keep an eye on everyone, she said.

Your teammates could tell you were having a hard time; it was obvious by the way they worked harder to get a laugh out of you, how they'd show up to hangout of the blue, just because they were in the neighborhood. None of them had approached you about what was bothering you yet, and you assumed they didn't have any idea what was really going on. There were clues, though, ones you weren't aware of, that they were most certainly picking up on.

The first clues weren't much; the way you'd pick at your food whenever you ate with the team. For your part, you did well to hide the fact that every bite was painful to choke down. Still, there was just something slightly off.

It was the quieter members of the team that noticed other things, but they didn't bring them up to anyone else, not yet. Not when it was just you changing rather quickly in the locker room, or how you often showed up at team dinners claiming to have already eaten.

-----

The first person to really notice that something wasn't just a little off, that something was wrong, was Pina. The two of you had finally convinced Alexia to allow you to room together; previously, she'd said no, arguing that you two would inevitably get up to trouble left to your own devices. You'd worn Alexia out, though, and both you and Pina were practically giddy when she'd flashed you with a warning look and read off your names together.

You'd managed to put it out of your head, how much of a hard time you were having. Until dinner that night. It was a rough day, rougher than you were used to, and while you normally could pretend pretty well in front of the team, you didn't feel like that was possible this particular evening. You'd gone to dinner, eaten as much as you could bare, before you mumbled something to the table about having a headache, and slipping back off to your room.

You were overwhelmed, really, and feeling incredibly alone. Something deep inside of you ached, and you wanted it to stop, leave you alone, just for one night. You were so frustrated, and pathetically, so sad. You thought you would have more time before Pina came back to the room, so you gave yourself the grace to breakdown, just a little. You could shower, wash away all traces of the tears, and be back to normal by the time your roommate returned.

What you somehow forgot, however, was that Pina was, while silly and mischievous, also one of the kindest people you'd ever met. You should have known that she'd come check on you, but you were slightly preoccupied with trying to keep a handle on your breakdown.

You didn't hear the click of the key card just before the door opened, and you were caught completely off guard when Claudia stepped inside, her face scrunching with worry as she caught sight of you curled up in the cozy chair in the corner of the room, sobbing quietly into your hands.

"Amiga! What is it?" She asked, rushing over to you. "Is it your headache? Should I get a physio?"

"No, I'm fine, Pina," you replied, wiping furiously at the tears that were still insisting on spilling from your eyes.

"Why are you crying if you're fine?" Pina asked in a quieter voice, on of her hands coming to rest on your knee.

“Claudia, seriously, I’m fine.” You insisted. You looked at her, then, and you looked so devastated, Pina knew instantly that you were lying. She felt so out of her league, so unsure what to do.

“Stay here.” She said after a minute, practically sprinting out of the room.

You knew she’d come back with someone, whoever she could find to fix you. This was the a job for an older player, not her. She gave good hugs, and could always make you laugh, but you needed someone older, someone wiser.

You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop her. You could only wait, and try to calm down.

You'd stopped crying, you really had, by the time Pina returned with Mapi in tow. You were prepared to act as though your friend was being dramatic, and really, you were fine, but then Mapi walked in, looking like she'd run the whole way to your room to check on you. The serious look on her face was such a departure from how she normally acted, that you were rather thrown off. She caught sight of you sitting on the bed, your red face, the slight downturn of your lips. What really got you was the way she didn't even say anything; she simply walked closer and opened her arms.

You were moving before you could even think to remain where you were, falling easily into the older girl's arms. They wrapped tight around you, and you buried your face in her shoulder. Tears ran off your face, collecting on Mapi's sweatshirt, but she held tight to you, one arm around your back, another holding your head close against her.

"It's alright, chica, we've got you." She murmured. You allowed yourself to sink into the comfort. For a moment, pretending that you weren't keeping so much inside, hidden away from the people that cared about you. You pretended that Mapi knew what was going on, and she was holding tight to you as reassurance, an unspoken promise that you'd be alright.

She didn't know what was wrong, though, and you weren't sure you'd be alright, not really. The little bubble of comfort and safety was broken when the defender pulled back, hands on your shoulders as she looked searchingly at you.

"What happened?" She asked. Her grip on you was tight, and you knew she wouldn't let go until you answered her. Pina was visible, just over Mapi’s shoulder, fidgeting with her hands and looking on nervously. Your only possible course of action was to lie, and to lie well.

"I don't know, I think I'm about to get my period or something," you lied. "I was just kind of sad, but it's fine, I'm fine now."

Mapi didn't look convince, nor did Pina.

"Are you sure? If something is bothering me, you can tell me. Or I can get Alexia if you want," Mapi suggested, beginning to turn toward the door.

That, you absolutely could not let happen. Alexia would get the truth out of you in seconds, especially when you were already so upset.

"No, seriously Mapi, I'm fine. Don't bother Alexia." You insisted, catching her arm and spinning her back around.

She eyed you for a minute, completely straight faced, before holding out her pinky to you. "Promise you are okay?" She asked.

You rolled your eyes, but linked your pinky with hers. "I promise."

She seemed satisfied after that, and you felt guilty about lying. It was for the best, though. You didn't need to worry your teammates, not when you were fine. Not when you had everything under control. Obviously, your motivation to lie went much deeper than that; the fear that they'd make you stop was suffocating.

-----

You shouldn't have felt guilty for lying, because Mapi went right to Alexia anyway. The Catalan Captain miraculously had her own room, for the 4th trip that year, although no one felt brave enough to comment on it. She opened the door warily, thinking Mapi was knocking just to chat, which she got enough of during the daytime hours.

"María, I'm really tired," Alexia started, glancing longingly back at her bed, where a nighttime call with her girlfriend and a cozy blanket awaited her.

"It's about y/n. I think something's wrong."

As Mapi had predicted, she didn't need to say more before Alexia was, now wide awake, stepping to the side, motioning for the defender to walk in.

"What is it?" She demanded once the door was shut behind her.

"Pina came to get me, and she said y/n was really upset about something, but she was pretending she was fine. I went back to their room and she had stopped crying, but as soon as I gave her a hug, she started crying again. And then once she'd stopped crying, she tried to tell me she was fine, something about getting her period and being sad for no reason. She pinky promised, but she was lying, Ale, I could tell. She looked so upset, like she was barely holding it together." Mapi's worry was evident in her tone, and, like you, Alexia noted the seriousness that was present on her friend's face. It wasn't normal, and it meant that, likely, there really was something to be worried about.

"Do you have any idea what she could be upset about?"

"No, not really. She's been a little off, I guess, but I can't think of what could be wrong."

Alexia sighed, silently agreeing with Mapi that you had been acting weird, but also that she couldn't think of a reason for it.

"I'll keep an eye on her, and I'll tell a couple of the others to as well. If something else happens, we can talk to her again." Alexia decided, somewhat uneasily. She wanted to figure out what was wrong, and fix it now, but suffocating you while you were already upset probably wasn't the best idea.

-----

In hindsight, maybe Alexia should have done something sooner. Your behavior remained off, but nothing else occurred that would really raise any red flags. That was, until the team had a double training session, and everyone ate lunch together. You had noticed more eyes on you in the last week, and figured that Mapi had probably asked a few of the older girls to keep an eye on you.

In an effort to convince them you were fine, you forced yourself to eat a normal amount of food at lunch, more than the carefully calculated portion you were intending to consume. It was alright, at first. You were able to distract yourself, joking around with your teammates. When you glanced down at your plate, though, finding it empty, you felt a wave of horror wash over you. You had no choice, no other option. It was too much. You couldn't do this.

You slipped away from the table after a couple of minutes of trying to calm yourself down. It felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You made it to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet.

In that moment, you hated yourself. For eating too much, for caring about eating too much. For doing this. Tears fell, unrelated to what you were forcing your body to do. You just wanted to be normal, to feel good. You wanted to look in the mirror, and not hate what you saw looking back at you. You wanted to see what everyone else apparently saw; a normal, average looking person. You hated this, hated what you were doing, but you couldn't stop. You wanted to, more than anything.

When the door creaked open, and you realized you hadn't locked the door behind you, you were caught in the worst position possible. You didn't need to look up, see the disgusted faces looking back at you, to know that you wouldn't be able to play this off. It was obvious that you weren't just ill. You were sick.

You didn't look up, couldn't look up, at whoever was at the door. You sat back against the wall, staring numbly at the floor.

"Go get Alexia. Discreetly." You heard Ingrid instruct, and you heard Aitana reply quietly before her footsteps echoed back down the hall.

The resounding emotion was shame; for being so weak, for being caught doing this. You felt so stupid. You were an athlete, you couldn't be behaving like this. At the same time, the need to lie, to not let them make you stop persisted. You were torn, completely at a loss for words. So, instead of saying something you couldn't think through all the way, you remained quiet.

------

Aitana ran like there was a fire to the cafeteria, only slowing to a walk when she neared the doors. Her heart ached for you, truly. You'd looked so destroyed, the hatred you held for yourself clear on your face. She sped walk to where Alexia was sitting, making eye contact as the blonde turned towards her on instinct, as if sensing that something wasn't right. Mapi was on her other side, and she'd known something was wrong the second she saw her girlfriend go after you, but she'd been deep in conversation with Irene, and she hadn't wanted to overreact.

Aitana leaned down, speaking quietly in Alexia's ear. "Come with me, it's y/n."

Alexia nodded once, her expression firm as she stood. As if they were 2 ducklings following their mother, Mapi and Irene rose too, following their captain and Aitana out into the hall. They stopped just outside the doors looking expectantly at the younger player.

Aitana worried her lip in between her teeth, looking intensely at Alexia. She didn't want to say what was going on, not in front of the other girls. Ingrid had told her to get Alexia, and to be discreet. You didn't need a crowd of people.

"What happened?" Alexia asked after a minute, her voice anxious.

"I... Ingrid told me to get you, and to be discreet." Aitana's gaze flickered to the other girls, and the blonde captain caught her meaning.

"Mapi, Irene, go back inside, I'll take care of it."

They both began to protest, but Alexia remained resolute, shaking her head at them. "No, Ingrid said just me. Whatever is going on we don't need to overwhelm her." The other girls turned, sighing dramatically, walking back into the cafeteria.

Alexia fixed her gaze back on Aitana, wordlessly asking for more information.

"Ingrid and I followed her to the bathroom, and we heard her getting sick. Ingrid opened the door, it wasn't locked, and she was... she was making herself..." Aitana trailed off uncomfortably.

The pieces started to fall together for Alexia, and she didn't need the younger woman to say anything else.

"Okay. Okay. Thank you, Tana. I'll make sure she's okay."

Aitana nodded nervously, watching after her captain as the blonde made her way down the hall and towards the bathroom that the brunette had indicated.

-----

To your surprise, Ingrid didn't try to make you talk. Her and Aitana had watched you leave the room, and worried that you were ill or something, with the look on your face. They'd followed you, hovering outside the bathroom door, before trying the handle. Ingrid hadn't expected what she found, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do. All she knew was that you needed help.

She shut the door behind her, locking it this time, before grabbing a paper towel. She got it wet with warm water, before carefully approaching you. Ingrid flushed the toilet, before lifting your chin to face her. You shut your eyes, unable to really look at her. You couldn't see how disgusted with you she was; that would be it. That would shatter you beyond repair.

Ingrid carefully wiped your mouth off, before taking your hand in hers, and wiping your fingers off too. The action made you inhale sharply. She knew, she'd seen. You knew she had, but the silent acknowledgement made you sick to your stomach all over again.

The Norwegian disposed of the paper towel, turning towards the door when a quiet knock sounded. You clenched your jaw, clenched your fists, dreading the conversation you knew your captain was about to force you to have.

You didn't want a lecture. You knew what you were doing wasn't okay, wasn't healthy. You knew, and you did it anyway. Because, despite what you told yourself, it wasn't about being healthy. It was about looking the way you thought you should.

Alexia entered, taking in Ingrid's troubled expression, before her eyes fell to you. You looked hopeless, completely embarrassed, and Alexia wanted to fix it. Make you understand that you didn't have to be embarrassed, not with her. She wanted to promise that everything would be okay, that she'd make sure that you were okay. She wanted you to let her in, finally, admit that you were hurting.

None of these things were conversations to be had in the bathroom, though. Alexia walked forward, holding out a hand down to you. Slowly, you raised your head to look at her. There wasn't any revulsion evident on her face, and even though you wanted to run, hide, pretend that this wasn't happening, you knew you couldn't do that.

You took Alexia's hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. She was steady where you were shaky, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you out of the bathroom. She stopped briefly, looking down at you.

"Do you want Ingrid to come, or would you rather talk just the two of us?" She asked softly.

Your eyes flickered to Ingrid, not wanting to hurt her feelings when she'd been so kind, but also thinking that you couldn't handle talking to more than one person about what was going on. It was horribly overwhelming enough as it was.

Ingrid caught your hesitance, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "It's alright, elskling. You talk with Ale, okay? And maybe later you can come over and have a movie night with me and María?"

You half smiled at her, as it was all you could manage, a smile she returned, before she headed the opposite way down the hall.

Alexia tightened her grip around you, like she was a little afraid you were going to run. To be fair, you'd considered it, but the tight hold your captain had on you had shut that option down. She led you through the maze of hallways, eventually finding a room that seemed to meet her requirements. It was a little relaxation lounge, one no one ever used as it wasn't very big, and the team kind of stuck together.

Alexia sat down next to you on one of the sofa's, and you appreciated that she didn't sit in the chair across the room; that would have felt terrifying like a therapy session, and you definitely weren't there yet.

"How long has this been going on?" Alexia asked. Her question startled you, having been sure she was going to try to make you talk first. She liked to do that, feeling like important discussions with her teammates were more successful when they steered the conversation. However, Alexia knew you wouldn't steer it anywhere helpful.

"How long has what been going on?" You replied, instantly regretting the words. Why had you said that? Alexia was aware that you knew what she was asking about, and she wouldn't let you get away with playing dumb.

Shaking her head, she spoke firmly. "No, we are not going to do that. Aitana and Ingrid saw, pequeña. We have to talk about this."

"I don't want to." You murmured, resting your head in your hands. You didn't. You would have done practically anything to avoid it.

"I know." Alexia told you sympathetically, rubbing her hand up and down your back. "We have to, though. I care about you way too much to not do anything about this." Ale paused. "When did it start?"

"It was bad when I was younger, a teenager. And I went to therapy, and I was doing well for a while. I'm not really sure what happened, why it started again."

Alexia didn't miss that you didn't answer her question. "When did it start?" She asked again.

You sighed, head still hidden away in your hands. "A few weeks ago. It wasn't that bad at first, I didn't notice. And then it was, and it was too late, I couldn't fix it."

"Why?" Alexia asked next.

You shook your head, even as the words threatened to spill out; the words that harassed you, that tainted every meal.

"Come on, pequeña. I am not going to judge you, just tell me."

Often, Alexia was seen as this intimidating, hardcore player. She'd do anything for her teammates, though, and she was capable of extreme kindness. If you were lucky enough to know Ale, to really know her, you knew how good she was. Maybe it was this, one of the best people you knew begging you to talk to her, that made you relent.

"I... I hate the way that I look. I hate it." Your words were dripping with self loathing. Alexia understood the unspoken words; you hated yourself.

There were a lot of things Alexia wanted to tell you, but didn't, not yet. She'd need them in the future, when the urge returned, and you fought against it. She'd need the reminders then.

Instead, she coaxed your face away from your hands, looking intently at you as she spoke.

"You cannot keep doing this. You know that. As your captain, and as your friend, cariño, you need help. We need to get you help."

Your eyes began to well with tears. Alexia took a shaky breath.

"And I know you do not want it, but you deserve it. Can you let me get you help, pequeña? Please?"

You considered for a couple moments. "What if I can't get better? What if... what if I can't?"

Above all, that was your biggest fear. Not being strong enough to beat it. It was why you resisted help; you didn't want to let everyone down if you failed. You wanted to be strong enough, you just weren't convinced you were. You were weak enough to start this, to fall into the horrible loop, to begin with.

"You will, cariño. You know how I know?"

You looked at her, eyes wide and watery. "How?" Your voice cracked, and Alexia took one of your hands in hers.

"Because you do not give up. You are one of the strongest people I know." You looked doubtful, still. "And I don't give up. I will not give up on you. We will get you better, together. You will not have to do any of it alone."

"Do you promise?" You asked, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you blinked at the blonde.

Alexia didn't say anything, she just held out her pinky towards you. You linked your pinkie with hers, and knew, somewhere deep within you, that this wasn't a promise she was going to break.

-----

Alexia did end up telling you all of the things she'd thought of, eventually. She wrote them down in a little note on her phone, not wanting to forget what to say, not when you needed her. Your teammates, the ones who knew, who you trusted enough to let know, used them too.

-----

That it didn't matter what you looked like, being so unkind to your body was never acceptable.

Alexia told you this one evening she spent at your house, after you'd had a long therapy session. You'd arrived home, dissolving into tears, and somehow, she had known you'd needed her.

She showed up on your doorstep like some kind of magical being that could sense when her friends were sad, letting you cry into her for at least an hour.

She'd whispered the words into your hair, when you asked her if she thought getting better was worth it, if it was so painful.

You believed her, that day. Just a little.

-----

She loved you, and there was nothing to be embarrassed about, or ashamed of.

She told you this a week later when you slipped up, and you'd called her from your bathroom floor, words unintelligible through your sobs. Alexia dropped everything to come over, and spent a while promising you that relapsing didn't make you a bad person. That you were doing your best, and that was all you could expect from yourself. That relapses were a part of recovering, as much as it sucked.

When she said the words, you believed her, a bit more this time. She'd been at your apartment before you could really even get any words out. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't care, if she was disgusted with you. If she didn't love you like she said she did.

-----

Being healthy, above all else, was what mattered, and what you'd been doing wasn't.

This was Ingrid and Mapi. You'd gone over to their house for dinner, which proved to be challenging. You confessed how guilty you felt for eating enough, and how guilty you felt for not eating enough. It was hard to figure out what the right thing was, when everything felt like the wrong decision.

Mapi spoke these words to you, sounding wiser and more sure than you'd ever heard her. You trusted Mapi, you trusted Ingrid. If they said that what you were doing wasn't healthy, they weren't lying. Another piece of you got better that day, even as it was one of the hardest you faced.

-----

You were beautiful, and strong, and your body allowed you to play the sport you loved.

You lost count of who told you this one. Irene, Lucy, Alexia, Ingrid, Mapi, Pina. It became something of a mantra, something they'd make you repeat when they saw you having a bad day.

Because, above all, you loved football.

You learned to love your body for allowing you to play football.

You learned to love your body just for being itself, regardless of what it looked like.

You learned to love yourself, to not put so much pressure on everything you did.

You healed, slowly. You knew, without a doubt, that you couldn't have done it without the team. You didn't want to conceive of a world where you would have to struggle alone, because you weren't. As long as they were around, you never would be.

-----

it's a good thing i have therapy tomorrow!

i joke, although i do have therapy tomorrow.

getting better is so worth it. i promise.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

[swordsmans]

i just really, really love the idea of zoro having no real "survival skills" because he had a much more traditional (if atypical) childhood/youth than most of the crew. bandit heritage aside, he was raised in a tight-knit and relatively peaceful community with (at best) agricultural outskirts. he doesn't leave until he's much older, at which point he becomes a bounty hunter as a way to make money (to pay for food, shelter, etc. presumably in villages, towns, and cities). we know from the non-canon johnny and yosaku backstories that he "hunted" for bounties in cities/towns, at least partially.

meanwhile luffy has been running around the wilderness since he was like seven years old, securing his own food, building fire and shelter, and just generally toughening up/learning how to live in nature. we know he had a pretty extensive knowledge of bugs and how to catch them, so with that + his childhood i don't think it's a stretch to assume he also has an understanding of edible plants and non-monstrous wildlife (even if its not all applicable outside the East Blue). he's survived on his own in the wilderness for years at a time at least twice in canon.

i think it's fun to think of them having... some sort of "zoro is lost in more ways than one" kinda vibe early on in their journey, especially since they're constantly broke pre-timeskip and we know that at least by little garden the crew has started hunting and foraging to supplement their stores. you could absolutely rope the rest of the east blue grew into this, but zoro is still sort of the outlier with his background.

i dunno. maybe i just like the image of luffy trying to teach zoro how to hunt or fish and both of them just having the dumbest time with it. luffy would be really earnest but impatient--and zoro would be stubborn about admitting he doesn't know shit but would still listen and absorb anyway.

luffy having no clue how to start small and work up to new skills, so they end up going after massive wild boars or something as a first or second lesson and zoro just rolls with it because sure, yeah, thats normal. what the hell does he know? (and also hes fucking. zoro. so.)

or luffy teaching zoro to fish normally but also like a bear fishes (standing knee-deep in the water and catching fish with his bare hands) because it looks more fun that way and he cant. and zoro just fucking up soooo bad but getting really competitive anyway, even though luffy is just, like, sitting on a nearby rock yelling (frankly terrible) directions at him or something. zoro catches nothing and luffy tells him he looks stupid getting angry at the river so of course zoro is going to master fucking. bare-handed fishing because the man's got one braincell and its 99% stubborn pride.

he fucking sucks at starting a fire, wouldnt even consider building proper shelter, and in general would not make it 0.2 seconds outside a populated environment without his captain--a guy raised by the jungle and ace, who was basically a wild animal himself.

idk. survival-competent luffy is very near and dear to my heart.

#not really a country/city dynamic because its like... not that. but luffy is basically the east blue les stroud and thats so funny to me #a bear grylls kinda guy #which is to say nothing of their differences in formal education #dunno if ill write another fic about it but its like... the other side of math/bilingual zoro headcanons to me #i think about this more often than i should tbh #zolu #gyro.txt

[livwritesstuff]

Tommy POV, wc: 2890, full version on ao3

Tommy Hagan is not jealous of Eddie Munson.

He’s not.

There’s nothing to be jealous of, in his opinion, and Tommy probably wouldn’t be thinking about him at all if Eddie wasn’t the most publicly well known member of his graduating class – well, he hadn’t actually been in his graduating class, Tommy supposes.

They had been seniors at the same time, though.

If Tommy happened to be jealous of anything – and that’s a big if – it would probably have something to do with the famous thing. Everyone has a small part of them that wants to be famous at least in some capacity, he’s pretty sure, even if Eddie isn’t really, truly famous – not like the red carpet celebrities. He’s a writer. Even the most well known writers never get all that much attention, but Munson has his own Wikipedia page, and that’s more than anybody else from Hawkins, Indiana can say. Hawkins itself barely even has a Wikipedia page, and it’s only because of all the atrocities that happened in town in the mid-eighties.

Tommy hadn’t been around for the end of it all – the earthquake-slash-serial killer situation that never made any sense to him. He remembers his mom calling him at his college dorm when the deaths first started. He remembers her asking, “You went to school with that Munson boy, right? Do you think he could do something like this?”

And Tommy had been twenty and a total moron, so he’d said some dumb shit like, “Yeah, he’s into freaky stuff like that. Somebody should’ve put him on a list ages ago,” even though four years of experience told him that Eddie was all bark, no bite. Tommy hadn’t been surprised at all by the statements that later came out clearing Eddie's name, and by then his parents had already high-tailed it out of Hawkins so it all sort of became irrelevant to him.

Tommy never even returned to Hawkins one single time after he left for college (barring his high school reunion, obviously), and twenty years after graduation, he doesn’t really think about those years all that much.

He doesn’t love the person he’d been in high school. He was whiny and immature and had his priorities all messed up. Most of the memories he has of his teenage years, he looks back at and cringes, feels a whole lot of shame and embarrassment, but also some pride at how much he’s grown over the last twenty years. He also knows he’d been kind of a dick in high school, but that he’s less ashamed of. It’s normal, he knows, for kids to be mean, that it’s a standard response to being untreated kindly in other ways. Like, his dad had been an asshole to him as a kid, always on him about his grades and his smart mouth and how he’d no longer been a standout on any of his sports teams after starting high school, and Tommy had coped with that by poking kids beneath him at school. 

It’s just the pecking order of high school. It’s normal.

Even now, when Tommy’s son had dealt with some pricks in the year above him shoving him around, he had come home from school and tormented his little sister for a while – it’s normal, no matter how much his wife had tried to convince him it was something that needed addressing. It’s just kids being kids. They grow out of it eventually, just like Tommy had.

Occasionally he wonders where the kids he’d spent all those years with in the Hawkins public school system had ended up, but these days the internet makes that pretty damn easy to figure out.

He’s learned Tina got married and had kids real young. She still lives in Indiana. Carol, who he’d split up with before heading off to college, lives in Alabama now and she’s got kids and a husband too. Jonathan Byers is a photographer in California – Tommy isn’t into all that art-y crap, so he has no clue if he’s any good, but he definitely recognizes some of the organizations he’s worked for and if that’s any indication, Tommy would wager he’s not too shabby. No wife, though, he noted, so he’d either been right about Byer’s being a queer, or women just found him repulsive (admittedly, Tommy leans more towards the former – he’s a photographer). Tammy Thompson still lives in Tennessee, though it doesn’t seem like she does music anymore (husband, kids, blah blah blah). 

If he’s honest, the only person Tommy is actually interested in tracking down is Steve Harrington, and he’s the one person Tommy can’t find a single trace of online. No MySpace, no Facebook, no weird blog thing, nothing.

Vaguely, he wonders if Steve might be dead. A truly massive proportion of Hawkins had died over just a few short years in the mid-eighties. Maybe Harrington was one of them.

Tommy doubts it. 

He would have known. 

Steve’s parents would have made sure everyone knew if their son had died. Funnily enough, Steve’s mom is actually on Facebook, and pretty actively too, but there’s no sign of Steve anywhere on her page. 

He hadn’t even shown up for their high school reunion in the winter of ‘04, which is odd because Tommy had been certain he would.

He doesn’t obsess over it – he really doesn’t. It’s just a thought that pops into his mind every now and then – where the hell is Steve Harrington?

In the late spring of 2007, he gets his answer.

“Tom,” his wife says, “That guy from your high school is on the cover of this magazine.”

He knows without asking for clarity that it’s Munson – no other person makes sense – and when he eventually gets his hands on the magazine, he finds that he’s correct.

Eddie Munson is on the cover of a magazine because, apparently, he published another book. 

Truthfully, Tommy already knew that. 

It’s his fourth book (which, for the record, Tommy hadn’t known until he knew it because it’s not like he’s keeping tabs on this guy or whatever), and it’s been getting a whole bunch of mainstream attention after a controversial landing on the top of all those book charts Tommy doesn’t follow despite featuring a gay love store amidst all his normal fantasy crap. It sparked a whole debate about banning books and everything (dumb, Tommy knows, because if he learned anything in business school it’s that if you really don’t want something to exist, the best thing you can do is not funnel money and attention into it). 

Tommy does, in fact, watch the news so he’d already caught wind of all this – it’s part of the reason he can’t shake the guy – and it’s why Eddie Munson is on the cover of this magazine (because, seriously, nobody gives a shit about writers until it hits the news).

He allows himself a moment to look at the cover, to look at Eddie, who apparently goes by Ed now. Tommy is loath to admit it, but he looks good. His hair is normal and he’s grown into his frame, not all long and lanky and gangly limbs like Tommy remembers from school. He looks well-fed, confident, happy.

He looks good.

Tommy thumbs through the first few pages of the magazine until he reaches Eddie’s interview, and, again, he allows himself to look over the photo of him that takes up nearly three-quarters of the first page even if he has no intention of actually reading the article itself because, again, Eddie looks good (and maybe there’s something about the scruff of facial hair along his jaw that Tommy's eye gets stuck on). Tommy’s allowed to say that men look good when it’s true – it’s 2007, as his wife likes to remind him whenever it’s convenient for her, and if she’s allowed to say that Angelina Jolie looked good in that CIA movie, then Tommy is allowed to say that Eddie Munson looks good here.

When Tommy flips to the next page, he’s met with a photo that stops him in his tracks, has his feet frozen to the floor because –

Jesus Christ, that’s Steve Harrington.

Fuck, okay, so he’s reading this fucking article.

It takes Tommy a long time to get through it, honestly. Eddie comes out in the article, which might be a big deal, might not (and he doesn't care to be enlightened, thanks). He keeps getting distracted by the pictures scattered throughout it.

The pictures of Steve, mostly.

Because, well, if Eddie Munson looks good, Steve…

Steve looks alive.

Tommy didn’t realize it until this exact moment, but Steve had existed in his head for the last two decades as the eighteen-year-old he’d been the last time they were in the same room together. It hadn’t exactly occurred to him that Steve’s been aging this whole time too, just like Tommy has.

It’s undeniable that Steve is older. 

His hair is starting to go gray at his temples (it’s the only thing that’s changed about his hair since he’s still styling it the same as he did in high school – because why mess with a good thing, Tommy supposes) and he’s got just the hint of crow's feet around his eyes when he smiles. He’s smiling in all the photos – every damn one – and it has Tommy struck by how unbelievably happy Steve seems. It’s an effect that somehow both takes years off the age Tommy knows he is and shines a light on just how good those years must have been for him. 

There’s no solo shots of him like there are for Munson – though according to the article, it's actually Harrington now – and only half the photos are in color. The rest of them – the more candid ones – are smaller and left in black-and-white. 

The one that caught Tommy’s eye first – because it was meant to, he’s pretty sure; it takes up half the page – is right in that sweet spot between staged and candid where Steve and Eddie both know that they’re being photographed even though neither of them are actually posing. Eddie is grinning at Steve in a wicked way that still feels familiar to Tommy even two decades since he’d last seen it on him (probably swaggering around the cafeteria like a total jackass – not that Tommy would know anything about that). Steve is grinning right back at him with a smile Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

Or maybe he has, but not on this version of his face, not since Steve was as young as his oldest daughter.

Just as the author of the article said, the photos don’t show the faces of Steve’s children, either leaving them artfully out-of-focus or choosing shots where they’re turned away from the camera, but they’re still present, and it makes the whole spread almost feel like a photo album in a way, like it should be private but instead was published for the whole world to see.

Steve has three of them – kids, Tommy means. He didn’t know that Steve was a family kind of guy. It makes sense though, when he thinks about it. Steve’s parents were kind of a nightmare — present in the worst ways, and absent in the worst ways too (though it hadn’t seemed that way when Tommy was a teenager looking for a failsafe party house). He'd always felt kind of bad for the guy. Like, Tommy's dad had been a total piece of work, but they'd at least been around, and he'd stuck around long enough for them to sort out their issues at least most of the way, and these days he's a pretty kickass grandpa to Tommy's children.

Tommy wonders about Steve's parents now, wonders if they maybe came around like his own parents had, but then he remembers Mrs. Harrington's Facebook page and how there's not a damn trace of her son on there, never mind three grandchildren.

Tommy isn't sure he wants to touch that.

Steve is probably a really good dad, Tommy decides. He’d been kind of that way when they were friends — Steve used to say he wasn’t all that bright, but he always had a freaky sixth sense for reading people, for caring about them in exactly the way they needed.

There's one photo where Steve is managing to holding his youngest daughter — a tiny little baby still — and her bottle in one arm (that's a level-three dad hold, Tommy knows). The bottle is angled in a way that obscures her face, and Steve's other hand is being tugged on by another daughter, this one with a mop of curly brown hair remarkably similar to Eddie's when it was still long.

That's another thing Tommy won't let himself think about, (because he knows if did he'd start wondering if any of those kids were half-Steve).

Anyways, Tommy doesn't need glance to see that Steve wears fatherhood like a favorite sweater.

There’s something about this, about seeing these pictures, about the way Tommy is getting an answer to that question he’s had for years about where his childhood best friend has been all these years, that is making him feel like his ribcage is being split open, bones splintering and shattering as everything vulnerable inside his chest in suddenly out for display.

He probably should feel uncomfortable, right? Like, a guy he’d been seriously close to growing up — sleepovers and gym locker rooms and all that shit — had turned out to be gay. If his own son came home from school saying that his best friend came out or whatever as gay…well, again, it’s 2007, and Tommy doesn’t think his wife would allow him to denounce the friendship entirely, but there certainly wouldn’t be any sleepovers anymore. He thinks that’s pretty reasonable.  

What was the likelihood that Steve had been, like, into Tommy?

And that should be an uncomfortable notion too, and in a sense, it kind of is, but not necessarily in the way he would expect. 

He just doesn’t understand why all this feels so much like a loss because he knows that he hasn’t really lost anything – not since he got his hands on the magazine, anyways. Steve Harrington hasn’t played any sort of role in Tommy’s life since their final falling out in 1984, and as far as he’s aware, having a falling out with a close friend is pretty much a guaranteed part of growing up. His wife even experienced something similar when her own grade school best friend suddenly stopped answering calls and stopped reaching out after they’d started college – and his wife is basically the nicest person Tommy has ever known, so…it happens to even the best.

It’s just…Steve had always continued to exist in Tommy’s life in a way, even if he wasn't physically present, and maybe Tommy had figured it could be the same for Steve too, that maybe he sometimes wonders where Tommy is, wonders what he’s up to.

This article and these photos makes it pretty fucking clear that Tommy doesn’t even exist in the same galaxy as the life Steve is living.

And that’s not to mention the Eddie fucking Munson of it all.

Tommy had been kind of ignoring the Eddie of it all until he couldn’t ignore it anymore, because he doesn't care about Eddie Munson.

He'd never cared, but he'd spent years seeing the guy's face and his name everywhere, and now it feels like a sick joke, like he's the piece of Steve left in Tommy's life.

If the article is accurate (and he has no reason to believe it isn’t), Steve and Eddie have been together for longer than Tommy has even known his wife. Steve has been with Eddie for longer than Steve was ever friends with Tommy – not by a lot, but still more. That’s a long fucking time, and it’s clear as day on both of their faces that they’re just as in love with each other fourteen years in as they were on day one.

It’s not just Steve, and it’s not just Eddie, and it’s not one more than the other. It’s both of them.

There’s one photo in particular – a small black-and-white one that keeps pulling Tommy’s attention.

It’s another candid shot, taken from a bit of a distance. In it, Steve has Eddie boxed in against the counter in what has to be their kitchen. Eddie is leaning back against the edge of the granite countertop and looking at Steve with something sappy and fond on his face, and Steve’s hands are this close to grabbing Eddie’s waist as he looks at him the exact same way.

It’s shit out of a fairy tale or something, and sure, maybe someone could argue that they’re laying it on thick just for the sake of the magazine or whatever, but Tommy knows Steve Harrington and that look on his face is more real than Tommy had ever seen in all the years he'd known him.

So maybe Tommy has a reason or two (or three or four) to be jealous of Eddie Munson.

#unreliable narrator!tommy hagan my beloved #the ao3 version has the interview btw #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan

[rynwritesreid]

Office Rivalry| Spencer Reid

Summary: You are fairly new to the team, both you and Spencer have mutual hatred for one another. However, after solving a case, primarily you solving it, Spencer comes over to your house.

Content: Angst and smut. Spencer is kind of mean in this. Hate sex. dom Spencer Reid. Sub! reader. Semi breeding kink. Name calling (slut). Spencer insinuates you’re cheating, but you’re not. Oral (F!receiving) Fingering. Brief mention of a case (no specific details). Smut with a plot. 18+

2.5k words

Masterlist | Requests are open| Navigation

You hated Spencer Reid with every fibber of your being. When you first joined the BAU, around a year and half ago, you tried your hardest to be nice to him. But Spencer loved to rub it in how smart he is and how he was better than everyone else. He barely acknowledged you at all, even when you out in the field together.

 

However, you got on with everyone else. You and Luke were the closest. He was also one of the newest members of the team, so you think that’s why you bonded with him. You, Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Tara often went out drinking together, or as they liked to call it, girls’ night. You often babysat for JJ so that her and Will could go on dates, and if Emily needed to go out of town you would cat-sit Sergio. You viewed Rossi as a father, he would share amazing recipes with you, and you would give him all the gossip he missed.

One day, the team was called in for a new case. It was a particularly gruesome one, and tensions were high. As they gathered in the briefing room, Spencer sat down at the table across from you, his eyes cold and distant. But you refused to let his attitude get to you. You focused on the task at hand and took notes as the case was discussed.

As the team began to work on profiling the unsub, Spencer's expertise shone through. His insights were invaluable, and you couldn't help but be impressed by his intelligence. But even as you recognized his skills, you remained determined to prove that you were just as valuable to the team.

“Guys” You said with authority, making sure everyone diverted their attention from Spencer to you, “I think this has something to do with the people’s social lives, they aren’t at all connect to one another, but they are all popular. They all had big groups of friends, and often went out. Look at their social media.”

The team nodded in agreement as they began to dig deeper into the social media accounts of the victims. As they searched through their posts, you noticed something odd.

“Spencer, come take a look at this,” you said, gesturing for him to come closer to your computer.

Spencer hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly moving towards you. As you showed him the post, you couldn't help but notice a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Interesting,” Spencer muttered, before quickly returning to his own seat.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as you returned to your work, knowing that you had outsmarted him once again. Once he was out of ear shot, you snickered. He thought he was so much better than you, but here you were outsmarting him at something so easy to spot.

As the team continued to work, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. This case was the perfect opportunity to prove yourself, to show Spencer that you were just as valuable to the team as he was.

Over the next few days, you worked tirelessly to piece together the clues left behind by the unsub. You spent countless hours pouring over social media accounts, interviewing witnesses, and analysing evidence. And as the pieces began to fall into place, you felt a sense of pride wash over you. It was only a matter of time before you cracked the case.

 

Finally, the day arrived when the team was ready to make their move. Armed with the information you had gathered, you set off to apprehend the unsub. And as you watched the team close in on their target, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

 

Once you arrived back at the precinct, the police offered to take you out for drinks, saying that yours were on them. You smiled and accepted their offer, feeling grateful for the opportunity to unwind after such a long and stressful case. As you made your way to the bar, you noticed Spencer walking alongside you. You shot him a quick smile, but he remained silent.

 

When you arrived at the bar, JJ ordered a round of shots for the team. You took yours eagerly, feeling the burn as it slid down your throat. The team began to chat and laugh, feeling relieved after solving the case. You noticed Spencer sitting at the end of the table, nursing his drink silently.

 

Spencer was obviously a bitter loser, and you couldn’t help but feel smug at this. Even though the police and the team said your drinks were on them, you felt bad, so you offered everyone a round. They were all a bit drunk, so they agreed. You took their order and walked over to the bar. Spencer told everyone that he was going to help you carry the drinks back, but he really just wanted to call you out.

 

As you grabbed the drinks from the bartender, Spencer walked up beside you. You could feel his icy stare piercing through you, and you braced yourself for whatever he was about to say.

 

"You know, you really shouldn't be wasting your money like this," he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

 

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore him, but he continued.

 

"I mean, it's not like you can really afford it, can you? I bet you're drowning in debt with how little you make."

 

You felt your blood boil at his words. How dare he try to belittle you like that?

 

"I may not make as much as you, Spencer, but that doesn't mean I can't treat my friends to a round of drinks," you retorted, glaring at him. "And besides, it's not like you're the one paying for it."

 

Spencer scoffed, clearly unimpressed with your comeback.

 

"You always have to try so hard to prove that you are just as good as me, but you’re not. And you never will be. You are pathetic.”

 

Those words stung more than you cared to admit, and you felt your anger grow. How dare he speak to you like that? He had no right. After everything you had done for the team, how could he be so cruel? You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before responding.

 

"And you, Spencer, you don’t care about anyone but yourself,” you snapped back. “I don’t know why I even bother trying to get a rise out of you. You’re just a cold, heartless bastard who doesn’t care about anyone but himself."

As you began to walk away, you could feel Spencer’s sharp eyes glaring holes into you. You could feel your eyes beginning to water as the pain washed over you. You could tell that you had hurt him, but you didn’t care. You were tired of his attitude. You were tired of him. 

The night wore on, and Spencer barely looked at you. Luke offered you a ride home, one you accepted. This night started off so good, and yet ended so horribly. Once Luke dropped you off, you took a shower and cuddled up with your dog. Why was Spencer so horrible towards you.

How could he act like that? He was such a cold, heartless bastard. You were the one who had been working on this case non-stop, you were the one who cracked the case. And yet here he was, acting like the hero in front of everyone. He made you sick.

 

You were just about to drift asleep when you heard a knock at your front door, as you looked through the peephole you saw Spencer. What did he want? Did he want to say some more horrible stuff to you. As you opened the door, to ask him what he wanted, he barged his way in.

 

Before you could even ask him why he was here, he slammed the door shut, pinning you against it, his hands gripping your arms.  

 

"Don’t you ever speak to me like that again," he growled. " I am not cold or heartless. I care about you. It’s you that I care about."

   

You looked up at him with wide eyes. You were shocked, at first you assumed he was here to yell at you more, but now you were confused.

“I’m sorry that I said that, Spencer. But you treat me like I don’t deserve to be on this team and that you are so much better than me” You spoke softly.

Spencer let you go. He took some steps back and allowed you some room.

 

“I never meant for it to be like this. You think that I always try to prove that I’m better than you. You think I don’t value you. But it’s not true. I just want you to be safe. I don’t want you to get hurt. And it’s hard to see you in so much danger.” You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at you, with that regret and sincerity in his eyes.

 

You walked towards him, his eyes never leaving you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you. He held you tightly as you pressed your lips against his. He deepened the kiss, as you felt your body temperature rise.

 

Though you would never have mentioned it before, you had always found Spencer attractive. Though you hated him, but that was starting to dwindle, you had always found him hot.

 

His lips left yours, and his eyes searched for any regret from you. But Spencer when couldn’t find any, he said something. “What happens if Luke finds out about this? Are you two a thing, or do you flirt with everybody?”

 

“Luke and I are just friends Spencer, but if you thought otherwise why did you accept my kiss?” you said it a harsh tone.

 

“So, you do just flirt with anyone. God, not only are you stupid, but you are also a slut.” His cold demeanour had returned.

 

“I thought you said you cared about me Spencer?” You felt tears starting to form in your eyes.

 

“I just said that to see if my theory was true, which I now realise it was.” Spencer’s voice grew harsher.

 

But Spencer’s lips meet yours once again, this kiss was harsh. You didn’t know why, but you kissed him back. His tongue found its way into your mouth, you didn’t fight for dominance, you just let him win.

 

He stopped kissing you and looked at you with victory in his eyes. “Even when I call you a slut, you still kiss me back.” He chuckled.

One second you were standing, the next Spencer had lifted you over his shoulder and was carrying you towards your bedroom. Once he was in your room, he practically threw you on your bed.

 

“I need to know you want this Y/N, if not, I’ll leave, and we can go back to how we were before.” He said, making sure you understood what he was saying. But you didn’t want to go back. You wanted him.

“I’m not going to tell you again Y/N, answer me.” As he said this his hands were lifting up your shirt.

 

“Yes,” you replied. “I want this.”

He grinned at your answer, and pulled your shirt over your head, he then began to remove your bra. You reached for his pants and began to undo his belt.  

 

“What the fuck are you doing Y/N?” He removed your hands.

 

“I want you, Spencer.” You replied, feeling confident about your decision.

 

He smirked and began to remove your pants. He unzipped your jeans and slipped them off with your panties.

 

As he did this, he kicked his own pants off. He took a second to admire your body. He ran his hands up your thighs, and started to rub them roughly, “They are so soft.” He whispered.

 

"I've wanted this for so long Y/N" Spencer whispered as he lowered himself down to your pussy.

 

He quickly inserted a finger inside of you, which caused you to gasp. Before you could even recover from this, he inserted another. This made you moan. He began to move them in and out of you, at an increasing pace.

   

As he finger fucked you, he lowered his head to your clit. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit.

 

You moaned loudly as he began to suck on your clit. He inserted another finger into you and continued his motions. Your moans grew louder and louder, until you felt yourself cumming.

   

"Oh, fuck. Spencer." You began to moan louder and louder.

   

"That's its Y/N," he spoke into your pussy. “Show me how much of a dirty slut you really are.”

 

Your uncontrollable moans grew louder as your orgasm ripped through you.

 

“I thought you hated me, but here you cumming from just my fingers.” He smirked.

 

You just moaned, as your body recovered from the overload of pleasure. Spencer removed his fingers from your pussy and inserted them in your mouth. You sucked them dry. "Taste yourself Y/N."

   

You did as you were told as you sucked his fingers clean.

 

“You know I only came here to see if you would kiss me, but this, this is much a better outcome.” He whispered into your ear. “I still hate you though Y/N, but I like this. And you know what, I’m going to cum in you, so you can never forget this night. Maybe, if you’re lucky, this won’t be the only time I fuck you.”

 

Once again, you just moaned.

 

He stood up and completely undressed himself.  His hard, throbbing member stood at attention. You had never seen a cock so big in your life before.

 

He positioned himself on top of you. He inserted himself into you. He let out a groan at how tight you were. He began to move roughly in and out of you.

 

You began to moan, as he picked up his pace. Soon he was thrusting into you with such force.

 

"Fuck" Spencer groaned. "You feel so good."

 

He began to fuck you faster and faster. Your moans became louder and louder, mixed with his groans.

 

"I'm almost there Y/N" Spencer whispered into your ear.

 

Before you could reply, Spencer had cum inside you. He pulled out of you, denying you anymore pleasure.

 

"That should leave a nice reminder inside of you." He said as he admired his work.

You didn't reply, you just looked at him.

 

"Now, you can never forget what I did to you tonight.”

Be added to the taglist

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid scenario #dom spencer reid

[d0youc0py]

You had spent the night in your car. You hoped by now he had sobered up. Hell, he was probably still asleep. The sun was rising, not that you enjoyed its pale blue color. Your eyes throbbed. You had barely slept, and while you were awake you did nothing but cry.

You turned your car on.

You didn’t want to go back. He could still be drinking. He could be passed out in the living room. He could be out looking for you. He could not care at all. You didn’t believe that last one. You knew without a doubt Simon loved you more than anything. Last night was the first time he’d ever shown you something different. You hoped he was worried. Pacing the floor. Wondering what the hell he did last night. Buckling your seatbelt you headed back to your shared flat, with no clue what was in store for you- but you knew one thing: he was going to have to work hard to make it up to you.

•••••••••••••••••

You had barely opened the door before he was on you. His knees hitting the ground with a loud thump, two powerful arms gripping your waist. His hands clawed at the back of your shirt, pressing you suffocatingly close to him.

Your exterior was already faltering. You stopped your hands from digging in his hair, telling him you forgave him- but yell at him to never do it again. He was mumbling into your stomach. You maneuvered the both of you so you could get the door shut.

“Simon?” You questioned slowly. You couldn’t understand a word, or see his face. Your shirt began to feel wet. His whole body was quivering as he dug himself closer to you. He pulled his mouth away from your stomach, but you were still only able to catch every other word. You sighed and cupped his face in your hands forcing him to look at you.

You winced as a sharp pain stabbed you right in the heart.

He looked worse than you’d hope. You thought you’d take a little joy from it- seeing him feel bad. You were wrong.

His molten eyes were bright red and swollen. His pale face covered in red splotches from crying. He had rubbed his jaw completely raw, something he did when he was upset. You wiped a tear away from his eyes. They instantly closed craving any scrap of comfort you wanted to give him.

“Where’d you go?” You murmured, craning your neck down closer to him. He furrowed his brows at your question. He’d been here, getting shitfaced. Then it dawned on him. You meant Simon. After a year of dating he opened up to you a little more about his “alter ego”- Ghost. When Simon had been acting the way he was a part of you wondered if maybe you had been dealing with Ghost.

“You know I can’t tell you.” He choked.

“It had to be pretty bad for you to come home and treat me the way you did though.” You tried your best to keep your tone cold. He whimpered, but nodded his head agreeing with you. “Treating me like I didn’t even exist- then having the audacity to get drunk and yell at me. Do you know how scary that was for me? How would you like a 6’4, two hundred and fifty pound man- in an obviously bad headspace, drunk, yelling at you? You scared me Simon Riley and I don’t know how long it will take for me to trust you again.” You felt lighter getting that off your chest. The weight was quickly replaced by Simon curling himself around you. His sobs shook your whole body, and you fought against gravity to stay upright. You lost that battle, your body tumbling into his lap. He made quickly work of tangling both of you together, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

This was the most excruciating experience of his life. He didn’t sleep last night either, even in his drunken state he knew he’d messed up. After you left he stumbled off the couch and grabbed a few pieces of bread and shoved them down his throat. He grabbed any item containing alcohol and dumped it down the drain, throwing it straight in the trash. He tried calling you, you had left your phone on the counter. This was his worst nightmare. He had acted like his father.

He pleaded for your forgiveness against your head. He didn’t know how to make it better. All he could do was hope that you saw how truly sorry he was. How his heart was twisting so painfully in his chest that he’d had a grimace on his face for the past six hours. “How can I fix it.” He murmured. His sobs had calmed down after you caved and started rubbing his back.

“I don’t know Si.” You mumbled. His grip on you tightened. “I think you should figure that out.”

He did figure it out. It took about a month for the two of you to get back to normal. He made a point to never drink while he was home- only drinking one or two drinks after a mission if he really needed it. In the future when you two fought he made sure to control his volume and temper- stepping away from the argument if he felt he was going to scare you. More importantly though he started to see a therapist and became much more open with you about his life before you. He will always put in the work for you.

You could barely hear your name being shouted over the heartbeat in your ears. It wasn’t until a hand wrapped around your arm did you become aware of your surroundings.

“Fuck off.” You shouted tugging your arm away from Johnny.

“Bonnie please.” He begged, pulling you back towards him. He felt sick to him stomach. Your terrified voice ringing in his ears as he pressed the accelerator. The fat tears rolling down your cheeks, your chest heaving up and down. He’s had more than enough panic attacks to know one when he sees one. You gripped the wall for support your other hand pushing roughly at his chest. His heart clenched as he realized you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. “Bonnie.” He tried again. Your breathing was so ragged he was surprised you were still conscious. “Sit down with me, please.” His voice was so soft, like he was trying to not scare off a deer. He sunk down slowly, his hands pulling you down with him. You put your legs between the two of you, resting your heated head on the cold brick of the building. You grabbed his wrists and threw his hands off of you.

He couldn’t hold back a tear any longer, his throat constricting so tight he knew it would be sore tomorrow. He quickly wiped it away. He didn’t deserve to feel sorry for himself. He’d put you- the most precious thing in his life- in danger. He deserved whatever punishment you had in mind for him.

You began to feel lightheaded. You shut your eyes, focusing hard on calming your breathing down. People walked past you- assuming the two of you had gotten a little too plastered.

“How could you do that to me.” You whispered finally. You opened your eyes and took in the sight of him. He was trying his hardest not to break down. The veins in his neck becoming more prominent.

“I was mad. You laughed at that bastards joke and it hurt me. If someone was poking fun at you I wouldn’t laugh along with them.” He tried to reason.

“So you thought almost killing us was the right way to go about it?” You snapped. Another tear fell from his eye. Usually the sight would absolutely break you, but you were so mad at him you hardly noticed it.

He didn’t know how to respond.

“We wouldn’t have died.” He assured. He had no way of knowing that and the crack in his voice made it obvious he knew that too.“I’m sorry, Bonnie.” He rose his head to look at you. He shivered as you looked at him with cold eyes.

“You wanted to scare me Johnny. You wanted to get back at me for making you feel bad. I’m sorry I laughed at his jokes- I’ll admit that wasn’t a kind thing to do. It sure as hell doesn’t excuse what you did though. How am I ever suppose to trust you again?” This was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Now you were wondering if his impulse would kill you one day.

“Let me make it up to you.” He said quickly. “All I ask for is one more chance. I’ll do anything for you, sweetheart and I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but you’re the most important thing to me. Please let me fix this.” He pleaded to you. The sincerity so evident in his eyes chipped at your cold heart. You stared at him for a long moment waiting for any falter. To see if this was just some facade. As the silence grew his gaze became more panicked- more heartbroken.

“One more chance Johnny.” You agreed. You could feel the weight of worry leaving his body. He was about to throw his arms around you but stopped himself.

“I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart. I promise.” He swore. He did in fact, keep his promise. He never let his temper get the best of him again and completely changed his communication style, making sure he was always open and honest with you about the way he was feeling.

If you asked anyone what Captain John Price was most proud of in his whole life, they knew without a doubt his answer would have something to do with you. He took such pride in you and his relationship with you. He lived off of the way you looked at him. The way he was able to keep that lovestruck glint in your eye no matter how long the two of you had been together. He reveled in the feelings he got when someone asked him how he was able to keep someone like you so infatuated with him. He couldn’t help but puff his chest when someone came to him for relationship advice, because there was one thing no one could ever deny:

John Price was a fantastic Husband.

He was a fantastic husband.

That night changed everything. He took the easy way out. Leaving an ‘I’m sorry’ note on the fridge before he left for three months. The first week he was away he had the chance to call you. Pour his heart out, beg you for forgiveness. Remind you how much he loves you. How he would kill and be killed for you in a heartbeat. Yet he just stood there. Staring at the small burner phone in his shaking palm.

He hated himself enough for the both of you.

Everyone quickly noticed the shift. The always present loveglow he had was completely gone. He was a ghostly color- besides the red the that never left his eyes. He was completely dead. Only speaking to bark something out. They didn’t know the pain he was in. His heart constantly constricting in his chest. He wasn’t able to sleep because all he could think about was the sobs that left your body that night. He could hear them all the way from the living room. The look of complete and utter heartbreak as you watch the love of your life beat you down with words. He had shattered your world completely. He knew the comfort you found in him. He was a natural protector and he scared you more than anyone ever had. It was the most torturous experience of his life. Yet all he did was sit there and let silent tears roll down his face.

He hated himself enough for the both of you.

He had become a menace on the field. If anyone had forget why the man was Captain- they had sure been reminded. Talks of a promotion lingered in the air but he could care less. He wasn’t John Price anymore.

Hence why no one argued with him when he demanded to be taken back to you. He had been shot. Three times. He stayed still enough to receive some treatment, but he couldn’t be away from you. Not now. He couldn’t die thinking you hated him. He couldn’t have shame be the last emotion he felt for you. He couldn’t have his name written proudly on a tombstone, because if you didn’t want his last name anymore- he didn’t want it either.

He managed to convince one of the new rookies to fly him to home base. He jumped into his truck and sped as fast as he could to you.

A familiar pair of headlights shining into the bedroom window woke you up.

It couldn’t be. He had only been gone for a little more than six weeks. The front door opened, followed by your name being shouted. You tore off the covers. The sight of him alone was enough to make you sob.

“John.” You whimpered. He tugged you against him. Your mind was spinning. He was here, covered head to toe in blood, sweat, and tears, pressing quick hard kisses anywhere he could reach.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He repeated over and over against your skin. He knew he would have to work hard to get back to where you two were. To get that same lovestruck glint back in your eye. He could do it. The way you pressed yourself closer to him gave him some hope. Hope that he could one day, become a fantastic husband again.

“Can we talk.” You we’re just about to fall asleep when the words struck through the air. You rubbed your sore eyes nodding. The living room light flickered on and you sat up. You decided it was best for you to sleep on the couch tonight. Give each of you time to think and cool down. Looks like Konig was done. The couch squeaked uncomfortably at the newly added weight. “I did some research and I realized that the way I acted towards you wasn’t normal.” He said softly. His eyes met yours and all doubt slipped from your mind. He knew it wasn’t right. And he was sorry.

To Konig the world was very black and white. You either fought or took flight- he was choosing to fight. He knew he needed to change. He would die if you ended up resenting him. He was going to fight for this relationship by changing the way his brain worked- and he prayed that you didn’t already choose flight.

You scooted closer to him, your hand resting on his shoulder. You could feel his tense muscles relax under your touch. He leaned into you. Before you knew it you were both laying on the couch, your body nuzzled into his wide chest.

“I’m sorry I acted like that, Schatz.” He ran a huge Hand up and down your back. “I’m still so new to this. I just want you all to myself.”

“I know Konnie.” You smiled, pressing a kiss against his lips. “There are times I want you all to myself too. It’s natural to want to be close to what you love. Just try to remember I love you more than anything.” His face flushed and you snickered at the wide smile spread across his face. “I’m sorry for what I said too, Konnie. That was uncalled for.”

“No you’re right. Its true I’m not the most popular person, but I’m happy with my friends at work and of course you. I don’t really need anything else.” He sighed. “Does this mean you’ll come to bed now?” He questioned. You nodded your head rapidly, already feeling a crick in your neck.

Part one here

I just want to thank everyone for the support on this little mini series! Some of you had asked for alternative endings and I’ll have those out soon! Thank you for your patience!

#d0youc0py #doyoucopy #cod #cod men #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #cod x reader #fluff #sfw #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #gender neutral s/o #gender neutral #angst #apologies #konig x reader #Konig #soap #captain price #cod x gn!reader #cod x you

[stvolanis]

Hi yes i'll have a farleigh start being the sweetest bf even though he's a massive asshole.

coming right up 💕

lover<3

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Farleigh Start! X Reader

WARNINGS: it’s rlly short I’m sorry 😭, foul language, reader is emotional in this, kissing, cuddling, pet names, Felix and Oliver are dating because I said so, basically FLUFF!!!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Your partying days at Oxford were at a dreadful end, your life now piling with work on top of work. It was an endless cycle, an exhaustion. An annoyance.

You barely got sleep, and you felt like a living corpse dragging yourself from class to class every day. And the little sleep you did get was always interrupted with Oliver and Farleighs bickering, or Felix begging you to come to one of the many frat parties he’s throwing.

You knew you were neglecting Farleigh, and it made you feel terrible, but you truly just didn’t have the time. You would’ve told him how busy you’d become, but you were afraid he would become upset and break up with you or something, so you bit your tongue.

Farleigh, on the other hand, was like your night and shining armor. He was an amazing boyfriend, the whole reason you attended Oxford in the first place was because he was going to, and you always wanted to be wherever he was.

Though, now, you were starting to regret it. It was all becoming too much for you and you didn’t have a clue as to how you were gonna get all of the shit you had to do done. You were too afraid to ask for help, but you didn’t even need to ask. Farleigh realized on his own.

He didn’t say anything at first, but he could feel that something was off with you. He didn’t know what it was, but you seemed more agitated. When you guys hung out, your mind seemed elsewhere, and like you were in a constant state of gloom or something, he didn’t know.

But he knew you, and he knew that whatever was bothering you would stay unresolved unless he was the one who spoke up about it.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He suddenly asked. He was sitting at the edge of your bed, staring at you. Now, you didn’t know exactly how long he’d been stating at you because your mind, as always lately, was elsewhere. More specifically, focused on whatever bullshit you were typing on your lousy computer.

“Hellooo?” He asked again, more agitated this time. You didn’t respond, so he took it upon himself to slam your computer shut, nearly on your fingers before tossing it on your desk. “Farleigh, hey! Cmon, nows not the time.” You huffed out as you got up.

You felt hands around your waist turn you back around, so now you were facing Farleigh. His hands cupped your cheeks, and he made you peer up at him. “What’s wrong? Why have you been so distant lately?” He asked, genuinely upset.

Your eyes immediately watered and tears rolled down your cheeks, your lips beginning to tremble. Farleighs eyes turned soft as he pulled you into him. “Baby, please tell me. Can’t help you if I dunno what’s wrong, Princess.” He muttered in your hair.

“Everything, Farleigh! S’all too much!” You yelled out through your tears, your voice slightly muffled by his shirt. “See, we’re getting somewhere. Be a little more specific f’me, hm?” He urged as he kissed your head.

“The works too hard. There’s too much of it and I’ve been completely drowning in it, Farleigh.” You sobbed into his chest. He clicked his tongue as he made you look up at him again. “Oh, you silly girl. You should’ve told me!” He said as he wiped your tears with his thumbs.

You sniffled as he kissed your forhead, then both of your cheeks, your nose, then your lips softly. “S’okay, gonna be okay. I’ll help you, and so will that shithead Oliver.” He muttered against your lips reassuringly.

you giggled through your tears. Even when he was being the sweetest to you, he still always had it out for Oliver. It felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Like your lungs could finally take in air again. An exaggeration, maybe, but he made everything feel better.

“Wanna watch a movie? We can worry about the work later. You need to relax, honey.” He said as he lied down with you in his arms, snug against his large body. He played with your hair as you sighed, tracing shapes on his chest while nodding your head at the movie suggestion.

After a while, the two of you settled on “night at the museum” as it was one of your favorites. Farleigh, on the other hand, had absolutely no interest in the movie. He didn’t want to watch it, but for you? He’d do anything if it put a smile on your face.

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing Oliver and Felix. “Party today, we’re all going! Don’t care what you have to do, Y/N.” He said.

“Jesus, fuck. Get out!!” Farleigh yelled out as he threw one of the books from your nightstand at Olivers head. Oliver winced and rubbed his head. “Shit, alright, alright! Cmon, Felix.” Oliver huffed out as he dragged his overly tall boyfriend out of the door.

You laughed. You laughed for the first time in what feels like forever, and it felt amazing. You needed this. You needed Farleigh. Even Oliver and Felix, but mostly just Farleigh. Your darling boy.

“Thank you, Farleigh.” You said as you leaned up, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. He returned the kiss with a dorky smile. “Of course, baby.” He replied as he squeezed your body closer to his.

And with that, you knew everything would be okay as long as Farleigh was with you doing it every step of the way.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[anantaru]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

with all the trauma scaramouche had suffered from in the past, you made it your duty to show him that it was okay to love and crave intimacy.

୨୧ WORD COUNT: 4.1k

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw, fem! reader, oral sex (male! receiving), unprotected sex, scaramouche & reader are in a relationship, first time being intimate, slight biting/marking, nipple play, cute scaramouche, loads of love, scara deserves it all.

for one, you were no stranger to handing out affection, love, to the person you had certainly fallen for.

he, on the other hand, had not been on best of terms with himself. Indeed, in midst the impenetrable darkness he had suffered from in the past, a faint glimmer of light had broken through him, said light being you and your person alone.

scaramouche had not fallen for you immediately, it wasn't as if he didn't feel any form of connection with you, or a somewhat higher power, he so referred to it, that has brought the two of you together with it not mattering where either of you were. Surely, the storm in him still roamed, with the fear of yet another loss feeding into his darkened thoughts of sorrow and hatred, that weren't only directed to the world, but to himself.

was him existing, enough? did he really deserve to be here and live a normal life after all, with someone he cared for? swallowing back the knot that threatened to tie in his throat, he reevaluated the thoughts he found he was surrounded with. No matter the outcome, in the end no one was able to possibly find a reasonable answer to the impractical question he would throw himself in.

nevertheless, scaramouche understood the idea of being affectionate towards your partner, more so intimate. In fact, he wasn't an idiot, if mere humans were able to wrap their mind around such concept, why shouldn't he?

he found himself rather plastered around particular imagines in his dreams, with your body bare, naked embraced tightly in his arms. It was vividly played over and over, with the building desire voicing itself without leaving. Your touch or the natural responses you'd give to him felt as if he somehow invaded your space with his disgusting thoughts.

yet still, he was unable to understand a single syllable of it. not in a way someone might think, the idea of kissing and worshipping someone's body was not a brand new thought of his. It's more that, in his eyes, if he really was about to give himself to a fragile human yet again, what would happen if something was to rip you off him one day?

with your hand in his, he searched his mind again, for something positive, optimistic, it didn't matter what it was as long as he recalled the safety that rose in him upon sensing your skin on his own.

"you're in your head again."

intentionally, you posed your question gently for him to listen to, he leaned his head to meet your eyes, not being capable to offer any form of rebuttal this time. A smile, with no resistance, dancing on your lips as you scooted over to him once more, with his hand tightening around yours.

"i wasn't in my head, I just thought about something rather hard." there it was, you giggled, the little snarky response you were waiting for. His facial expression intrigued you on this night, it contorted something it rarely did, for some reason he too, was far less argumentative, more attentive and relaxed in his antics.

"does this bother you?" you pointed towards your hand while patting your thumb over his knuckles. All movements were slowed, working against time, with your voice silent. How dearly he wanted to tell you that he in fact, adored every single moment of your touch on his own and that he would never be bothered by anything of it.

"huh, does it look like it does?" the irritation in him was growing, with scaramouche not having a single clue on how to tell you all of that without sounding like a downright insane individual. There was a rustle of fabric when he slightly wiggled himself in a much more comfortable position, with your head now resting on his chest.

judging by the way his chest was heaving as a result of his frantic breathing, you figured something was up, at this point, you knew your boyfriend better than anyone else. However, for a moment, all you craved for was to lay still and drink in the natural responses he unintentionally provided you with.

scaramouche continued to hold your hand, while his other one proceeded to wrap around your waist, trembling in his play before he stilled his fingers on you, struggling but still managing to hold himself close with his thoughts weighing him down.

following suit, you propped your chin onto his chest, silently admiring his dominant features through your lashes, the details on your lips raising in a smirk.

"something is up, i can feel it."

you really wanted to know it now, being very much aware on how much he despised whenever you were noisy with him. It was so deliciously simple to get him over the edge, too simple almost when you already noticed the slight *click* he made with his tongue.

"you've gone all quiet." the barely noticeable change in your voice rose slight goosebumps on his skin. You pulled your hand away from his hold to keep your palm on his chest.

"you're just imagining things." his lips twisted, your throat bubbling with a contagious laughter from his response. Taking a tiny, careful, approach to him once more, you slowly slid your body up so your face would now directly hover over his, thoughts swirling.

that damned spark in your eyes again, scaramouche remembered the first time he witnessed that gesture and when you looked at him in that special way, so pure, yet so passionate, in a way it was intimate too, leaving him no peace.

"maybe you're right, satisfied now?" there was a piercing bitterness in his cutting words, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek sensually. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, heart leaping at the contact with his touch.

who was he fooling right now? you were his partner, his love, he wondered if he should just go for what he had longed for after all.

which, he then did, might we add, in his own way.

"can you kiss me?"

it was foolish, really, if anything, scaramouche wanted to curse himself for saying something so embarrassing to you, settling his hand on your cheek while attempting to take it away. Maybe he could make you believe that he was in fact, sleep talking right now, or sick. Was he even able to get sick in the first place?

doubt stayed in his mind, when you in a sudden manner, drew your hand to his own which was cupping your cheek, carefully intertwining your fingers with each other, you shifted like water with scaramouche welcoming the pull of your weight on his body.

"always."

your fingers brushed on the column of his throat, the skin was warm and smooth on your finger tips. Scaramouche would never deny the steps you were taking right now, he enjoyed it, craved it, as a smile flickered upon placing your lips on his own.

there was a strong fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach, finding a rhythm, practically demanding you to continue.

how much he had waited for you to kiss him like that, struggling to remain still while stifling his sounds. Warmth, your warmth in particular, for him it felt almost nauseating to have it radiate through his body in such thickened spurts.

briefly, you pulled away, resting your forehead on his own, delighted. The presumedly cold wind sighed outside, shrilling, not to mention low, adding to the fevered beat on your heart.

scaramouche set his fingers on your chin, with a little effort, pulling you back in. He wanted, no, needed this, adding his tongue. Not so much different from the dreams he would be grazed with every now and then, you slid his hand over his chest, playfully tapping your tips around his ribcage.

feeling the chill on your fingers over his shirt, he furrowed his brows lightly, laying his hand on the nape of your neck, tumbling into becoming hopeless addicted to your taste.

lets call it an arch of desire, that made you run your hand further, lowering yourself on his stomach before resting. Right now, the continues lust that seemed to have been stored for many weeks in him, drowned out all the outside noise until all he was able to hear was your erratic breathing.

catching you by surprise, he enveloped his hand around your wrist, dragging you down on where he so very much wished you to be. There was a pleasing demanding antic in his tactic, deepening your kiss as you smirked against his lips on how blunt and unashamedly he could be at times.

testing on what he might like, you squeezed him through his pants with his hands splayed on your neck, tracing his fingers over your skin nervously. Each hiss that you'd notice develop in his throat, felt as if someone lit you on fire, all too alluring.

you peeled yourself away from his lips with them glowing of saliva, slightly parted. His body was clearly tensed with him letting go of a painfully slow hiss. "is that alright?" with his eyes half open, you could still watch his dilated pupils, smoothening your hand on his semi erect member.

"can you do it faster?"

there was a twitch in his sentence, one he did not notice on his own as he lolled himself back into pillows with your hand proceeding to work on him. Scaramouche had long since teetered around the pleasure you inflicted on him, drunk on your presence alone.

silently, but ever so mindful, you squeezed his clothed groin before peppering his chest with tender kisses, lowering yourself and never stilling your hand on him. Scaramouche dropped his head, lust blinded, clenching his hand and disheveling the bedsheets under him as you proceeded to be content with your play.

the sweet and intoxicating whines he'd let you hear were drawing you into madness with how consuming they were.

your body moved on autopilot as you placed a soft kiss on his twitching groin. The air around him began to be difficult to take in, thick as syrup, slow and jarring, tinged with something fiddling with his senses.

you gave him a little laugh as he tilted his head to you, returning your smile hesitantly when you worked your way on his belt, discarding it together with his pants and boxers, pushing them down.

the breeze was stirring on his pulsating member, with it resting stiff on his pelvis. The soft rasp of his throat upon taking it in your hand was exhilarating, an extra thrill creeping at him as you kissed the tip, lapping his pre cum with a single flick of your tongue.

"fuck, more." the sheer act of submission that took place in between his legs tampered in his thoughts, marveling before him at the intense sight with your continues kisses on his rosy tip.

scaramouche felt powerful, wanted, desired, by the person he so very much cherished and loved.

you effortlessly parted your lips, wrapping yourself around him before going down easily. The nervousness and flips that went over in his stomach were replaced by pleasing caresses and skillful flicks of your tongue on his shaft.

for him, he felt weightless, watching himself disappear in your warm mouth with your eyes tightly shut in concentration. The hint of a smile remained on you with your strokes fastening. You hollowed your cheeks, stilling yourself for a tiny bit before pulling yourself up slowly.

a layer of sweat dampened the tiny hair on his nape with him grunting at every thrust now. The squelching noises flustered his state of mind, as if he was embarrassed of it, unsure on how to response to it either.

your wet muscle was notably sinful, flattened on the underside of his length with the raw texture of your tongue adding into the roughness of your sucking.

scaramouche bathed in ecstasy, truly, exhaling his breath in long, uneven bursts as you bobbed your head again, giving him a couple of final additional pushes as he releases himself in you.

"oh, fuck." his moans were bittersweet, careful and deep with his eyes tightly closed, carving his hips up into your mouth. You ran your hand over his shivering thigh in an attempt to aid him to his release, tonguing his semi erect cock and nibbling softly.

his angelic moans roamed through the room, filling it with sounds of sex and pleasure as you released him. His seed was melting together with your saliva, lewdly. You dragged the back of your hand over your mouth before swallowing his cun with his eyes fixated on the sight.

a slight pause was warranted as you caught your breath, crawling over to your lover, "are you alright?" scaramouche worried for a moment that it was too much or if he had pained you.

"i didn't hurt you? did i?"

the tiny, yet dominant fear in his eyes was evident, with you cradling his cheeks into a soft embrace. "you were perfect." seeking his lips out to pepper him in a loving smooth.

smiling indulgently into the kiss, scaramouche hummed in satisfaction and happiness, his hands falling down and resting on your chest, tugging on your dress.

naturally, you understood what he wanted you to do, short after discarding of your garment and leaving you in underwear for him to relish in. Your body was revealed to him, without hesitation he dragged you back to his hold, dominating you with his lips.

scaramouche was beginning to see the advantages of being dominant in bed, the lazy smile giving him enough reassurance to shove you into the mattress with him towering over you now. Following suit, you urged him to dispose of his shirt as well, helping him get out of it.

you returned to him, nibbling on his lips as he roamed your body with his hands, fondling with the bra before discarding it, with your panties following right after. The slight difficulties he faced with unclasping your bra left a feeling, more so, a tiny amount of panic at the idea that he might not be capable to please you sexually, with you actually enjoying it just how he did earlier.

you spotted the embarrassment in him, heavy lidded eyes never leaving his when you soothed his muscles, making his heart race with nothing more than candid handling of his body.

"have your way with me." with this proclamation, you traced your fingers over your exposed nipples to center his attention towards your chest. Of course, you did it easily, precisely, with scaramouche's eyes flickering with lust at your words.

"don't tell me what to do."

you were so unbelievably sexy, he noticed how he started to get hard, painfully so, planting himself in between your legs while pressing himself into your heat. Your hips pushed up, straining against the bulge of his erection, pursing your mouth.

he peered lower, longing to touch your breasts and feel them on his palm as he did just that, taking one in his hand. Experimentally, he pushed his thumb over your erected nipple, curious on the reaction he might coax out of you.

tilting your head, your pulse grew stronger. You hummed deeply, complimenting his touch on you as he brought himself to your chest, dragging his rough tongue on your bud, shuddering when he gently held his lips together, pulling away. Each moan, whine or whimper he'd be able to notice from you, only fed into the strong desire to pleasure you, love you how you deserved it.

with all of his might, scaramouche tried to ignore the growing hardness in his lower region, carefully gnawing on your nipple while fondling your other breast in his hand. Dragging his head over the mounds of flesh, he swept his glistering lips over the delicate skin, a moan rising from your throat upon noticing the suck on you.

blissfully unaware, he continued to latch numerous times onto your softness, nibbling and gently digging his teeth into you. Before you knew it, he already had begun to admire the marks he had left on your chest up to your collarbone, the drift of his cooling breath soothing the pulsating areas you were decorated with.

the aftershocks that rippled through you added to the heavy spiral in between your thighs, thrills of sexual want vibrating through you. It didn't help, his relaxed state of mind let his normal defenses fall short with his cock fully erected again, resting on top of your glistering folds.

the weight of the situation began to fall down on him with a slight feeling of overwhelm and the fear of failing taking a significant change in him. Grasping on what was happening, you soothed him back into reality, taking a hold of his head to drag him to you, his body leaning on top of yours.

"we can stop if you want."

it was important for you to give scaramouche enough time to get used to this feeling. Not only the taste of intimacy itself, but the idea and patterns of gentle touching and fondling, in a loving, more so passionate way he had never experienced.

"i want this."

everything was falling into place how he had fantasized about in his dreams, for months tolerating the unbearable growing ache on his groin without the ability to voice it to you. Even little, small obstacles wouldn't get in his way this time. Nodding your head at his words, you enveloped your arm around his neck while the other one sneaked in between your bodies.

letting out a sigh of relief, you lined yourself up with the help of scaramouche. For him, there was as much frustration as pleasure right now, he couldn't wait any longer to finally feel you like this, to finally become one with his partner.

bracing himself he leaned closer to you, with his hips following suit and pushing past the agonizing tightness of your hole, muffling the throat caught moans on your neck.

It eased him out, fairytales were downright despised by him yet why did this moment feel like one? it was unusual enough to get him so silent, so cautious with his body trembling on you. The fading jolt of pain arrowed on your hole with him handling you with great caress, offering you plenty of time to get used to his girth.

"that feels." each word melted down on his tongue eagerly, sending you staggering with him whimpering at the natural hardness. "that feels really good."

with the pace increasing, you kept a firm hold on him, rubbing circles on his back while he squeezed your breasts, his fingers sinking into your flesh. The slight stuttering on his hips was noticeable, right now scaramouche was testing on what would feel the most comfortable, but also most pleasurable for the both of you.

without breaking the rhythm, he pulled himself off your neck, locking your gaze with your body stiffening at his maddening expression. With your jaw gaped open, you moaned out his name, the very name he despised in the past, but with you voicing it like that, with that particular charm in your voice, it tasted like sweet honey on a summer night.

he gazed at your neck with your head thrown back at the pleasure his hips inflicted on you, your veins throbbing with blood with the notable rush in adrenaline shooting into you. Your walls were tightly wrapped around his length, intoxicating, with your hips grinding together.

all thoughts of possible negative outcomes were drowned by the way he was fucking you. Just thinking about doing this over and over again with you from now on, scaramouche had deducted that he had indeed become addicted to the feeling of you enveloped around him like that.

his hot breathing rolled over your glistering body that was covered in sweat and perspiration, his gaze focused on your person with the original first thought in him being on how messy you looked, how filthy and it was his fault alone. Surely, it wasn't necessary to explain the sudden burst in his ego, that developed by the tinkering in his mind, not when you continued to moan together with those alluring sounds of yours.

the bubbling sensation on his groin was beginning to reach its high, with scaramouche snapping himself faster into your warmth, so fast your breasts were beginning to bounce in tandem with it, making his cock press further in you. "fuck." the delicious pleasure he experienced had him lean into your face, kissing you while rolling his hips into you with the sounds of sex being more notable.

observing you with carefulness, cautious, he displayed a crooked smile, "are you close?" sobbing softly at his words, with your climax approaching, you nodded frantically. "i am so close." pleasant emotions in you rose, running your fingertips over his chest before stilling your hand on his cheek, dragging him down.

scaramouche moaned into the kiss, he wasn't sure if he was even supposed to fully be vocal with you or be as loud as he was right now. His lips, glazed and puffy, dwelling with a satiated sigh when his pace became uneven, dragging his stiff cock on your velvety walls.

the suffocating air in the room was unfolding with his patience evaporating, a sight around of small tears dwelling in your eyes at the fastened pace. In a daze, he finally spilled himself in you, a broken moan rippling in his throat with his vision becoming blurry. Your hands urged him to come down once more with your lips pressed together on his own, whining into his mouth when you twitched at the very second you felt him fill you with his warm seed.

unable to find your voice, you cried out, shuddering with your climax washing over you, yours hand around him beginning to tremble. The heaviness of your body was certain, with your thigh muscles aching as you lowered yourself back into the disheveled damp sheets.

scaramouche stabilized himself up with one hand while he roamed your body with the other, the expectations of the act alone had been overthrown by what he had felt right now. In a way, it was impossible for him to explain it, more so did he curse himself that he didn't take the initiative sooner.

you mumbled something underneath your breath and with him concentrating on your lips, he figured out what it was, his face igniting in flames. Your mouth quirked up into a smirk upon seeing his flustered state, your posture slightly straightening with him still being buried in you.

"don't you want to say it back?"

before you got an opportunity to ask again, scaramouche rolled his eyes at you, visible annoyed. "i don't think I have to tell you that i love you." he narrowed his brows, swallowing the knot in his throat when he pulled himself out of your messy hole, his cum pooling out.

"and why is that?"

undoubtedly, you thoroughly enjoyed messing with your boyfriend, not to mention when he was embarrassed for whatever reason. "because you already know i do, are you stupid?" you snickered at his words, deciding to curve the conversation into another direction.

your gaze lowered, with the both of you being in dire need of a shower, watching the mess unfold further on the silky sheets. You savored into the intimate atmosphere when he plopped himself right next to you, indirectly opening his arms so you could slip yourself in his hold.

naturally, without pressing the matter further, you do as he craved, catching his eyes to indulge in his afterglow expression. His chest was heaving unevenly, he was still out of breath and you found that immensely adorable, more so how he desperately tried to hide it from you.

"don't look at me like that." of course, you thought to yourself, he snapped at you with his head averting your gaze. You hummed to yourself, fluttering your eyes shut with his attention pointed to the small circles you drew on his chest.

the bittersweet smile on his lips, you did not spot, and he did not want to show you.

plastered on his mouth with scaramouche finally being able to let go and experience the feeling of just living, just existing without a bigger cause he had to participate in, but to simply be there with you, with you enveloped in his arms as you drifted into a comfortable slumber, together.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #scaramouche x you #fatui harbingers #genshin impact scaramouche

[fishbich]

Astro / Synastry / composite observations

Mars in 12th house synastry can leave the both of them feeling very tired around each other

5th house synastry is very fun in the beginning, but needs grounding elements to stand the test of time (2nd, 4th, 8th, 10th)

8th house synastry is really not hate OR love, its very much the feeling like "ugh I'm disgusted by this person but I am also disgustingly obsessed with them".

Its a weird thing, cause with 8th house synastry you see right through each other, and as every person will have good and bad sides, this will be very much on display from the first times you meet them. Its the whole spectrum of emotions (and definitely a whole whirlwind...)

(this is not necessarily only for couples) but people with strong (positive) mars synastry will have an easy time living together! Frustrations will often be dealt with right away, and there will be much understanding for each others anger and general feelings.

(Definitely helps to have some good moon aspects as well/ 4th house synastry)

Adding to this, 10th house synastry is also a blessing when living with someone, and just generally in a friendship. You respect each other on a core level, you see highly of each other and would not want to show any disrespect. Such a lovely and underrated synastry house. I believe adding this to the spice mix of favorable marriage aspects would not be a bad idea!

/though if not backed up by more emotional house placements, can sometimes lack emotional depth/

12th house influence in a natal chart is often noticed in how these people have no clue on how they are perceived by other people.

Also, dependent on the planet they have in the 12th, they will in a way hide this part of their life from other people.

Like for ex. a person with moon in 12th is a person you might never have seen cry, but then they'll say something like they cry a lot.

Or a person with venus in 12th, they might have a totally different preference in a s/o than one would imagine. And you might not hear a lot about their love life in general.

12th house synastry is something that will always confuse me. For me, made me feel like I was becoming the worst version of myself and didn't recognize myself in the end! But in the beginning felt like I found my true soulmate. There really was a sense of FINDING each other, not only meeting.

On one hand we never understood each other, on another hand we understood each other more than anyone we'd ever met before. It felt like we worked on a spiritual, higher level, in such a way were it just felt wrong and weird to be here on earth together almost.

Venus conjunct sun in synastry is very cute, but this doesn't always manifest as romantic feelings. Bare minimum of this aspect will be this is a person you have less chance of getting angry with, and someone who understands/ tries hard to understand you in little ways which please you. Love this synastry.

The composite chart will be how a relationship works in the longterm. Having little to no aspects between the inner planets in a composite chart can sometimes indicate lack of longterm partnership.

If you're feeling this immense attraction/ obsession for someone who you have no significant synastry chart overlays with, its likely that you have some heavy composite chart aspects. Like heavy 8th, 7th, 4th, 12th house or mars/venus/moon aspects.

#astrology #zodiac #synastry #composite #natal chart #5th house #7th house #8th house #4th house #12th house #sun #moon #mercury #venus #mars #pisces #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 2]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter One

➨ Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Three

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): daddy issues, invasion of personal space

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER TWO

Once again, you found yourself having no clue what you signed up for. At this point, it was on you. You should have learned your lesson the last time you put your trust in someone.

This time, instead of being booted through a portal into hell, you were being dressed up like a doll. The outfit you arrived in wasn’t ‘hellspawn’ enough so Charlie was throwing a plethora of outfits at you and seeing what stuck. You had to admit, you liked how the new clothes looked on you, but Charlie would scrutinize them before changing them again.

Personally, you thought you were being a pretty good sport about it. 

Just when you thought it was over, she dragged you in front of her vanity before darting out of the room. This worried you. It was safe enough to assume she was going to do something with your hair or makeup, but what did she need that wasn’t already here?

You began looking around her bedroom, taking in the details of the rich maroon wallpaper and the way the wood paneling complemented it in both shape and color. Her bed was truly something to be envious of, though. It seemed to be even bigger than a king, and the canopy frame allowed her to have translucent and opaque purple curtains draped in layers above it. 

It was possible the entirety of the hotel could look like this once it was thoroughly scrubbed down and decorated. A diamond in the rough, if you will.

You could probably afford to stick around for a day to help deep clean. They were doing so much for you despite being a stranger who had (politely) broken in. Had you been in their shoes, you would have done them in with an iron skillet first and asked questions later (in the courtroom).

You jumped as Charlie came scrambling back in with what seemed to be tubes of paint. You couldn’t help but feel concerned for what was to come.

The paint was squeezed into a bowl with a squelching sound similar to a ketchup bottle towards the end of its life. She reached across you to grab a makeup brush and began mixing it together.

Where did she think she was gonna put that?

You barely had time to react before she dragged the cold wet brush across your cheek. It only took her a minute to completely lather your face. You dared to look at yourself in the vanity mirror as she moved on to cover the rest of your exposed skin. Her gentleness tickled as the brush swept across your arms. She kept it rather neat to your surprise.

“Don’t worry. We just need to get the base down, and then we can spruce it up!” she chirped.

When you asked what there was to get ready for, this was not what you imagined. You could understand not wanting to look like a bum when meeting new people, but to go this far… Meeting a parent shouldn’t even matter if you’re not dating their kid. There was nothing you had to prove to Charlie’s father. Especially since you wouldn’t see him again so long as everything went according to plan.

The actual reason Vaggie suggested this was far more reasonable.

No, they weren’t just doing this to make you look pretty. They wanted to hide you completely. The idea was to make you look like a demon to the best of their ability in hopes of avoiding any unwanted attention. You understood why. Your first hour or so in Hell was pretty traumatic to say the least.

Vaggie went on to list all the things that could happen to you if you were found as a human, which did not help your nerves one bit. You could end up on someone’s dinner plate, or your teeth could be sold on the not-so-black market for a pretty hefty price. Your bucket list may be lengthy, but having your parts being used as someone else’s decor was sure as shit not on it.

Charlie tried to reassure you that her childhood home wouldn’t be so dangerous. However, she couldn’t promise her dad would have a positive reaction to a human wandering around, so it would still be safer to go in disguise. It would also draw far less attention from the staff, meaning you wouldn’t be stuck there so long.

You really got the vibe that she had daddy issues from how much she emphasized it being a quick trip. Not to mention her reluctance to go in the first place…

Charlie finished up the base coat of paint and moved on to add details to make it more realistic. She then adjusted your hairstyle to cover your hairline where the edges of paint were most noticeable.

“Okay, okay, now the final touch…” she said as she bounced over to her closet behind you.

You couldn’t see what she was grabbing. You only felt something being placed on your head. Before you could look in the mirror, Charlie invaded your view and shoved a pair of glasses onto your face.

You were dragged over to her golden cheval mirror.

“Grand reveal!” 

You certainly didn’t look human anymore. Your natural complexion was completely hidden, and the thing Charlie placed upon your head was a pair of fake horns, which she was bobby-pinning in place to ensure they’d stay put. The outfit itself you really liked, but the glasses she had chosen were in the shape of large hearts with bold red tint.

You felt so goofy.

You’d rather be offered up to one of the demonic cannibals than be caught looking like this in the living world. Your only solace was that the majority of people in Hell looked even stranger than you. That, and the amount of coverage you had made you feel like you were wearing a mask that you could hide behind..

“You look…amazing!” Charlie sang, hopping up and down a little. You may have felt a little embarrassed by your get-up, but the joy on her face nearly made it worth it. “Come on, we have to show Vaggie!”

You trailed behind her down the stairs where Vaggie was waiting to send the two of you off. She couldn’t tag along due to prior arrangements. If you remembered correctly, she was going to be interviewing potential guests for the hotel. Real guests rather than a human who had washed up on their doorstep. 

“Vaggie, Vaggie, look!” Charlie called. “You would never guess she was human, right?”

Vaggie looked you up and down analytically before locking onto your face.

“It turned out pretty good, but, uh…” She gestured at her own eyes rather than pointing at you. “What’s with the shades?”

“Well…Her eyes were the only thing I couldn’t really disguise, so the sunglasses will keep them from being visible!” Charlie said with a big grin, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “They’re also so cute.”

She and you must have very different tastes, but who knows, this could be what was trendy here in Hell. Even if it wasn’t, she made a good point. Of the few demons you’d seen, none of their eyes looked like a typical human’s.

Two beeps from outside the hotel were your cue it was time to head out.

“It’ll go great,” Vaggie said to Charlie, rubbing her back.

“Right…we’ll be back soon!” Charlie said as she led you outside where a white and pink limo was waiting. 

Oh. So she was rich then.

You figured the hotel itself wasn’t too cheap, but the condition it was in didn’t make it seem like it would break the bank. This was a clue into Charlie’s status that had yet to be revealed to you.

The drive through town allowed you to take in the sights rather than watching it all blur by whilst running for your life. There was a good range of shops between ‘normal enough’ to ‘I’d expect no less from Hell.’ Some sold electronics and furniture while others advertised hitman services.

You were pretty sure you passed a vending machine that sold hard drugs.

Watching the denizens made you thankful that you were in the safety of the car. A woman in a business suit doing lines off a public bench before waltzing into the city library. A sketchy dude hanging around the outside of a rundown playground… He seemed to be mocking one of the kids before it launched itself at him, going straight for the jugular.

You looked away before you witnessed something you’d regret.

Charlie caught your eye, shooting you a wide grin. You did your best to smile back.

You wondered where her father would fall on the spectrum of people here. Would he be out for blood like the majority of folks you’d seen? If so, you’d be with Charlie trying to get out of there as quickly as you could.

“Park down here, please!” you heard Charlie say to the driver after a while.

Your surroundings hadn’t changed much from where you started out. The city did seem to be a bit more residential in this area, but the level of chaos remained the same.

You followed Charlie out of the vehicle, expecting to walk into one of the many townhouses lining the uneven street. Instead, she took you down a few blocks and around a corner. It was as if she didn’t want your arrival to be known. To be fair, you didn’t either. The thought of any interactions with Hell-dwellers beyond Charlie and Vaggie made you nervous.

You found yourself standing in front of tall golden gates attached to a stone wall that encircled a grand manor. It was massive, at least twice the size of the hotel, with elegant gold detailing around the windows and pillars. Even though it was gorgeous, you were a little thrown off by its odd shapes and red stripes that reminded you of a circus tent.

It was quite the niche aesthetic…

The front door opened as soon as the two of you reached the top of the stairs, greeted by a small red demon. He had black and white striped horns and wore a cute little suit that reminded you of a butler.

“Welcome back, miss,” he said, dipping his head a bit as he stepped aside to let us in. “I was unaware you would be visiting. Is your father expecting you?”

“Oh, no…” Charlie began fiddling with her hair. “We were just passing by when I remembered I wanted to…pick something up! It’s good to see you. I wish we could catch up, but my friend and I are on a tight schedule.”

Her laugh was forced as she grabbed your shoulders and began pushing you down the hall, ignoring the way you stumbled along. She told you that there would be a room where her dad kept an array of magical tools and artifacts. Most were gifts to earn his favor, she explained.

It made you wonder what sort of industry he was a part of where people were trying to suck up to such a degree.

Pictures lined the hallways with the majority having Charlie as the subject. Their golden frames contrasted nicely against the striped red wallpaper.

You couldn’t help but stop to look at one from when she was in an awkward preteen phase of her life. She was quick to notice and pull you away with a red face. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

Your relationship with Charlie was nothing deep. The two of you had only met the day before, afterall. But seeing bits of her past like this felt intimate in a way one would share memories with a friend. You hoped it didn’t embarrass her too much.

Maybe you would show her some of your baby pictures to make up for it later.

“Oh, this was my old bedroom! One second, there’s something I do want to grab,” she said as she pulled you to a stop before darting inside.

You peeked in through the doorway. It was similar to her current bedroom in some ways, another canopy bed with a plethora of drapery around it and a beautiful vanity with a soft glow emanating from behind it. Yet it was clear that it once belonged to a child from the stuffed animal collection and softer color palette.

Charlie had wandered over to a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, rummaging through it as she searched for whatever it was she remembered.

You waited outside the doorway. It felt inappropriate to enter a place so sentimental to someone who was largely still a stranger to you. Seeing so many portraits from her past already seemed like a breach of her privacy even though you couldn’t help it. It’s not like you could wander around the halls with your eyes closed.

As you turned away from her room, a small man came strutting around the corner, donned in all white save for a red waistcoat and black knee-high boots. He was about to proceed down the hall perpendicular to yours before skidding to a halt.

His head whipped around to face you, and you froze.

Shit.

His pale blonde hair, ghostly white skin, and rosy spots on his cheeks made him nearly identical to Charlie. He had to be either the father or a brother that she had yet to mention.

He stared into your damn soul, unmoving. You wondered if he could see right through your disguise. Through the paint on your skin to the blood that pulsed underneath. Past your skull to the thoughts racing through your mind.

You stood stalk still in your spot, as well, staring right back at him. You felt it was the only thing you could do. It was either that or book it, but you weren’t paying attention to the turns you took to get to this point. You’d be lost in a heartbeat. Imagine how stupid you’d look then.

So you opted to harness your inner statue. You didn’t dare move a muscle in case–by some miracle–he could only detect movement. If you were lucky, he would shrug and continue strutting away.

Manifest…manifest…manifest–

“Who are you?” He demanded in a deadpan voice as he jabbed his cane in your direction.

Shittt.

“I’m–uh…” Your eyes darted to the side before landing back on him. “Who are you?”

Meeting the parents was never your forte.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dad!”

Thank fucking god.

His eyes lit up and a massive sharp-toothed smile spread across his face, completely forgetting about you the instant Charlie entered the hallway. 

“Charlie!” he practically screamed, arms spreading wide into the air. You had to duck out of the way as he threw himself onto his daughter. One would think he was attempting to squeeze the life out of her with how tightly he was holding on.

She looked miserable.

You did your best to hide your smile at the exchange. You could remember all the times you were embarrassed by overly affectionate loved ones shamelessly kissing and cooing at you in front of your peers. You were sure that at least half the time it was done so with malicious intent.

On the flip side, it was always quite enjoyable to witness it happening to others.

“I know, Dad. It’s good to see you, too…” She was patting his back, an attempt to signal she was ready to be let go.

“Why didn’t you tell me you would be visiting? We could have planned something fun to do ahead of time–”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing! We weren’t originally planning on dropping by, but I remembered there was something I wanted to grab, so…” she lied.

You were unaware she hadn’t given her dad any sort of heads up at all. You felt bad that you were sneaking in without his knowing. Especially since he seemed so overjoyed just to get to see her.

“Speaking of,” she redirected, stepping aside and turning to you. “This is one of my friends–”

“Ah, it is so nice to meet you!” he eagerly cut in.

You were only going to exchange a small wave, but he practically jumped on you, grabbing your hand and shaking it with exuberance.

“My goodness, Charlie never brings her friends over. This–this is so exciting!”

He was so close that it gave you goosebumps. He looked less human than Charlie, but not quite animalistic like the other demons you’d seen. His red pupils were much smaller than hers, bordering on snake-like slits, and all of his teeth were akin to daggers. She must have gotten her more human qualities from her mother.

You did your very best to smile as genuinely as you could.

“It’s nice to meet you, too–uh–Sir.”

He drew back, finally giving you space. Then his eyes lowered to your mouth.

You quickly sealed your lips.

Was he looking at your teeth? They wouldn’t give you away, would they? Charlie and Vaggie had mostly dull teeth aside from their abnormally sharp canines. If he asked, you could tell him you wanted to see how far you could file them down…

Worrying about your appearance made you uncomfortably aware of the paint coating your skin. It felt so thick all of a sudden. So sticky but also dry. And the fake horns were so heavy. God, you wanted nothing more than to rip it all off.

Your heartbeat was picking up speed.

Did his eyebrow just twitch?

His eyes narrowed slightly but that grin held fast. He briefly looked down to his hands before returning to your face, rubbing his gloved fingers together. It was as if touching you left an uncomfortable feeling behind that he was trying to get off.

“I’m glad we got to run into you, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so we should get going,” Charlie said, laughing nervously as she tugged on your sleeve.

“It was nice meeting you,” you repeated with a dip of your head before following her down the hall.

You could feel his eyes on you while you walked away. As you turned the corner, you glanced back to confirm you were just paranoid. 

His red eyes were locked onto you. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and his smile was gone.

Relief washed over once you were out of his line of sight. There’s no way he knew you were human. He couldn’t have been able to tell from just your teeth.

But then why did he look at you so strangely?

Your anxiety began to let up more and more as you got further away. Glancing over at Charlie, you could tell she, too, was bothered. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips pursed. She kept silent until you finally arrived at the room you came here for in the first place.

It was filled with shelves that held a wide variety of objects. From books, to statues, to strange glowing orbs on pedestals…

If you could find what you needed quickly, none of this would matter. You wouldn’t have to worry about Charlie’s dad figuring you out. You would be back home, safe and sound.

Where it was a good thing you were human.

Where the only things you had to worry about were bills and boy troubles.

“Alrighty,” Charlie said, closing the door after you. “I’m not really sure where to start, but some of these should have labels or descriptions or something.”

That was reassuring.

You each got to work, filing through piece by piece. She wasn’t wrong about some being labeled, though their names often told you little to nothing about what they actually were or what they could do.

As you went to flip through an old book similar in appearance to Devon’s, it was engulfed in purple flames. You gasped, backing away and colliding with something behind you.

Spinning around in hopes of preventing whatever you bumped into from falling, you came face to face with Charlie’s father.

Your heart stopped.

“Might I help you find something?” The smirk adorning his lips as he leaned closer was not comforting whatsoever. You were beginning to understand Charlie’s distress. This man had no concern for personal space.

Wide-eyed, you glanced over at Charlie who looked nearly as alarmed as you to see him there. You side-stepped away so that you were no longer sandwiched between him and the shelves.

“Dad…” Charlie drawled. “Don’t you have something more important to be doing right now?”

“What could possibly be more important than my favorite daughter? It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you!” he said, facing her.

“I’m your only daughter,” Charlie groaned.

“Uh-huh, which is why I want to spend as much time with you as I can~” he sang as threw an arm around her shoulder. “Say, have I gotten to show you my newest ducks yet?”

“No…look we’re really busy right now.”

“Right, right. Looking for something that you need,” he said, waving his hand in the air as he recalled her previous words. “In this room of all places?”

That made Charlie stiffen. 

“Ah, well–uh…”

“She was just showing me around while we were passing,” you spoke up. You were so thankful that your smile didn’t falter when his half-lidded eyes turned to you once more. “It would have been a shame to have missed out on so many amazing relics.”

“I’m sure,” he hummed. “If you’re curious about any in particular, I can tell you all about them.”

He relinquished Charlie to step up to you again.

“Were you a historian when you were alive?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Ah…No…” you said, looking off to the side. There was a moment of silence before you realized he was probably expecting you to specify your occupation. “I was a clinical technician. Items such as these would be interesting to anyone though, I’d imagine.”

“And what did you do to wind up here in Hell?”

What?

“Um, I didn’t…”

“Many would assume working in the medical field would earn you a one-way ticket straight to Heaven, so what could you have possibly done to land yourself here?” His tone turned serious, eyes narrowing.

You needed to calm yourself down. He was probably just interrogating you to ensure his daughter was keeping good company. You’d likely do the same if your child was surrounded by a bunch of sinners with some of the worst track records known to man.

What answer could you give him that was justified enough but didn’t make you sound like a psycho?

You stole a bunch of human blood and used it in a satanic seance.

He didn’t need to know that.

Premarital sex?

No, he had no business knowing about your sex life either.

“I cheated on a test once,” you answered with a guilty smile.

He gave you the most deadpan stare you’d ever seen.

“Premarital sex, too.”

“That’ll do it!” Charlie chimed in.

“That’s the whole reason Charlie and I met actually,” you said, trying to redirect the conversation. 

Both gave you odd looks. That probably wasn’t the best way to follow up that statement, but oh well. 

“She told me all about how I can redeem myself at the hotel she’s running! I hope to one day reclaim my virginity until I find that special someone.”

You smiled sweetly in hopes that it would earn you a few more brownie points. Weren’t you just the most precious little sinner?

“That’s right! She only recently got here, and she’s already seeking redemption! Isn’t that fantastic?” Charlie placed herself at your side, presenting you as if you were a class project. “She hasn’t even heard about the extermination yet!”

“The what?” You turned to face her.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved you off.

Her father had both hands propped upon his apple cane as he squinted at the two of you. You were clearly hiding something but he had yet to figure out what.

Trumpets began to blare from right beside you, causing even more strain on your frantic heart.

“Hehe, sorry, one second,” Charlie said, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check whatever notification caused that horrid noise. There was a moment of silence as she read the message before her eyes widened, and she went slack jawed. “Shit.”

Well. That didn’t sound good.

Her father looked concerned about her reaction, as well, placing himself at her side with a hand on her arm as he looked up at her.

“Is everything alright, sweetie?” he asked in a soft tone.

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head, pulling away from him. “It was nice seeing you, Dad, but we really have to go now.”

She grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the room with her, leaving her father behind without a second glance.

Next Chapter

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