#and my already simmering anxiety BOILED the hell over

[tightjeansjavi]

𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙𝟚 “cowboy like me”

♡ 𓃗 ♡

Pre! Outbreak Joel × horseback riding instructor f!reader

A/N: I wrote this entire chapter in one day and I’m pretty proud of how it turned out. Definitely a more angsty/feels chapter but I absolutely adore how close Joel and Tommy are as brothers in this. Enjoy! ♡

~word count: 5.5k~

Summary: horse dad! Joel throws in a little punch at your shit excuse for an ex boyfriend. Things get a little angsty, and emotions and feelings are openly shared.

Warnings: angst, mild violence (Joel punches your ex and breaks his nose) brief mentioning of blood/injuries. Gaslighting, egging on, toxic behavior from readers ex, Readers ex is an animal abuser (this is directly stated so proceed with caution) anxiety, fear, guilt, yelling, anger, reminiscing on the past, foul language, drinking, admittance of feelings, tooth aching fluff scattered throughout (especially between Joel and Tommy) making up, forgiveness. (+18) minors dni!

blue jeans playlist:

Austin, Texas

“What in the actual fuck do you think you’re doing here Logan? This is private property. You are unwelcome here.” You spoke firmly despite the slight quiver in your tone. You were simmering in anger, trembling in rage.

“Oh, my darling. Is that really any way to speak to me? Y’know…that’s the funny thing about restraining orders, you have to renew them or they expire. Besides, did you really think I wouldn't show up here again?” He pushed himself off the side of Frankie’s stall, a swagger in his step as he approached you and Joel. “After you dragged my fucking name through the dirt? Created all these false claims that I’m an animal abuser?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Did you really think I’d let you fucking get away with it? You think I’m that much of a fool?”

Your Texas tall glass of water was instinctively stepping in front of you. Acting as a physical shield to protect you from your ex’s harsh words. “Imma need ya to take 5 steps back from where you came from. 5 steps. Now. I don’t know who you are, but what I do know is that you’re a piece of shit. You don’t get to come here and spew some shit like you own the fuckin’ place? Man, who the fuck taught you manners cause you sure as hell ain’t have any. Secondly, you ain’t gonna talk to my girl like that. You ain’t gonna go and make her feel like she’s inferior. You ain’t gonna try and scare her into submission like that. Now, if you know what’s best for ya, you’re gonna walk on outta here with your tail between your legs. You’re gonna go home, lick your wounds and leave her, and her horses the fuck alone. Do I make myself clear buddy? Cause..I ain’t gonna say it again.”

Joel’s voice didn’t waiver like yours did. He was stern, and straight to the point. His own blood was beginning to boil like a hot kettle on the stove. His eyes were narrowed, holding a harsh edge of disgust. Who the fuck was this prick? How dare he talk to you that way. What a sorry excuse for a man. Fucking pathetic teenage, alpha male mentality.

Logan laughed. Of course he fucking did. He was so far out of touch with reality that he had himself convinced that he was the hottest thing since sliced bread. “Ah, you the boyfriend or something? She got you wrapped right around her pretty little finger, huh sweetheart? She’s got her claws deep into you man. Can’t blame you for falling so hard, she’s got the sweetest—”

“You ain’t talkin’ to her. You’re talkin’ to me. Yeah, I’m her boyfriend, and you’re runnin’ my patience real fuckin’ thin. You like runnin’ your mouth? Huh? Such a tough man you are. Comin’ in here n’puffin’ your chest like a fuckin’ imbecile. Now, like I already said, you go on home now and lick your fuckin’ wounds. Get fuckin’ lost.”

“Oh ho ho! The big scary boyfriend coming to your rescue? You're gonna let him talk to me like this sweetheart?” He ignored Joel completely as he looked over the other man’s shoulder, directly at you.

“That’s enough!” You finally spoke, fed up with your ex trying to get a rise out of Joel. You had been with Logan long enough to understand that game he always would play. He was an instigator. A cockroach that would never die; no matter how many times you stepped on it. “Go home Logan. I don’t know what you thought was going to happen when you showed up here, but you need to leave.” You stepped around Joel, taking matters into your own hands as your finger prodded against Logan’s chest firmly.

“Go home? Yeah, not gonna happen baby. It’s going to take a lot more than your grumpy guard dog of a boyfriend to get me to leave. Besides, do you think I just came here to humiliate you? No. I came back for my fucking horse. Whiskey belongs to me. Now you’ve gone and turned him into a sack of meat. A children’s lesson horse nonetheless? Fuck you—”

You shoved at him hard, placing your hands on his shoulders as you pushed him back. “Whiskey does not belong to you. He belongs to me and he is well fucking loved. You’ve got some real fucking nerve showing up here thinking that I’m just going to let you take him! You should be rotting in fucking jail for what you have done to my horses. Let alone how you have treated me when we were dating. If you don’t leave my property now, I will call the cops.”

Joel’s blood had hit the boiling point. The kettle had screamed, steam billowing as his fists clenched tightly at his sides. If this son of a bitch ever laid a fucking hand on you, his girl…breathe, Joel. Breathe.

“Oh, go on right ahead and call the cops, baby girl. I’m sure your daddy would love to see me!” Logan sneered with a wicked grin on his face as you pushed him back. As soon as his hands grabbed your forearms, there was no stopping Joel from intervening.

It happened in a flash, Joel grabbed Logan’s hands and yanked them from the firm grip they had around your forearms. He pushed him back so hard, he fell straight back on the aisle floor. “You don’t fuckin’ lay a finger on her! You fuckin’ hear me?! YOU DON’T LAY A FUCKIN’ FINGER ON MY GIRL.” Joel had grasped him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up harshly from the floor. He shoved him once more, jaw clenched and veins bulging along his neck.

“Lay a finger on her? Well, I hate to break it to you, but I wanna do so much more than that—” Logan egged him on.

A sickening sound on bone and cartilage crunching under Joel’s heavy fist echoed through the open stables. Your Texas tall glass of water wasted no time on clocking this mother fucker right in the face, knocking him out cold. Joel was not a violent man at heart, but he would be damned if he’d watch from the sidelines and not deal with this shit bag head on.

He was seeing red-hot rage blazing behind his eyes as his fist connected with his face. A clean shot, a broken nose. Far less damage than Joel felt that he deserved. His fist ached, and the torn skin around his knuckles stung, but the adrenaline was freshly coursing through his veins as he turned over his shoulder and looked back at you.

“Joel..” your hand was covering your mouth in shock, and a twinge of fear. You were not one for condoning violence and Joel could see it written all over your face.

“Baby, I’m sorry..I—he wasn’t gonna stop. He wasn’t gonna leave.” Joel tried to reason with you.

“I know, but we—we need to call the cops. Just..stay there, okay? I’ll go get some ice for your hand, and I have a medical kit in my office—” you were already pulling out your phone from your pocket when you felt his warmth embrace you. Calloused palms resting along your cheekbones.

“Okay, we can call the cops. I know we have to, but are you—are you okay?” He spoke softly to you, eyes nervously searching yours as his thumbs gently stroked away the tears that had begun to freely fall.

“Joel..I’m fine. Okay? I’m fine. Please just..call the cops and I’ll go get the ice, okay?” You pleaded with him, heart clenching in on itself when his face fell.

“Okay. I’ll call the cops.” He agreed as he slowly dropped his hands from the gentle hold they once had on your face. He watched momentarily as you quickly made your way to your office space, swinging the door shut behind you. He scrubbed a hand down his face as he dialed 9-1-1 on his own phone, bringing the device up to his ear with a heavy sigh.

Tears blurred your vision as you grabbed a pack of ice from the fridge and the medical kit from the cabinet next to it. You quickly wiped your tears and fanned your face. You weren’t mad at Joel, not really. You understood why he did what he had to do, but at the same time you were upset, and a little overwhelmed. Okay, a lot overwhelmed. You took a few minutes to calm down before you left your office.

Joel was sitting along a tack trunk in front of Whiskey’s stall, with his head in his hands when you reappeared. “I called the cops. They’re on their way now.” He wiped away his own freshly brewing tears.

You momentarily glanced at Logan’s knocked out form laying on the dusty ground as he let out a pained groan and rolled over onto his side. “You son of a bitch..” he grumbled, spitting out blood onto the floor. “You’re gonna pay for that motherfucker.”

Joel ignored him as he was too focused on the way you were gently dabbing antiseptic ointment across the split skin on his knuckles. He truly couldn’t get a good read on how you were feeling in that present moment, but he appreciated your touch of kindness regardless. His forehead was gently touching yours as he pressed the softest kiss to skin between your brows, closing his eyes momentarily.

Once you finished applying the ointment, you placed the small bag of ice over the skin to help bring the swelling and bruising down. You gave his good hand a gentle squeeze before you stood up from the tack trunk.

You tossed the other bag of ice in Logan’s direction before all your attention was turned on making sure that your horses were okay.

Once the cops arrived, they took your statement and Joel’s. Logan was crying about his broken nose in the back of the ambulance as another cop took his statement.

Joel had no idea as of yet that the chief of police was your father. Although the resemblance was striking, he didn’t want to go and make any assumptions right off the bat.

You spoke to your father off to the side as another officer was detaining Joel and placing handcuffs around his wrists, with his chest pressed up against the side of the cop car.

“Look, I know that you have to do your job here dad, but is it really necessary to arrest him? Joel did nothing wrong. Logan showed up here uninvited and he wasn’t going to leave. I tried to get him to leave and he put his hands on me and that’s when Joel snapped.”

Your father let out a sigh with his arms crossed over his chest. “Sweetie, you know I’m just doing my job here. He hit another man, and that’s classified as assault. A family member will have to pay a small charge to bail him out, but I’ll pull some strings to make sure it won’t end up on his permanent record. As for Logan? I’m not going to be as nice. Now, I want you to lock up here and go home. Call Ryder up to spend the night or something, okay?”

Your dad was a tough man, but a real softy at the same time. You both watched as the other officer pushed Joel into the backseat of the vehicle. You let out a sigh as you looked over at your father and nodded.

Joel was in utter defeat as he sat in the back of the cop car with his head resting back against the seat. Normally it was Tommy getting his ass arrested, but Joel? Never. It was a new low for him and he was simmering in it.

“Not the usual Miller brother that I’m used to picking up.” Your father spoke as he leaned back against the side of the car. He had picked up Tommy Miller a few too many times but this was his first time meeting Joel.

“Yeah, I think my brother Tommy has mentioned you a few times before sir. I’m always the one bailin’ his ass out..” Joel responded with a defeated sigh.

Your father nodded. “Yeah, your brother Tommy and I are on a first name basis. Always going on about how his big brother always bails him out.”

“Well, Tommy is always finding his own way of getting into trouble. I apologize for you havin’ to be on a first name basis with him. He has gotten a lot better as of late.”

“Are you dating my daughter? I might be old, but I can put two and two together.”

Joel felt all the color slowly drain from his face. His palms began to sweat when his assumptions that the chief of police was in fact your father was true. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “I am dating your daughter sir.”

“Are you treating her right?”

“I am sir. Your daughter means a lot to me. She’s a wonderful woman, and I’m awfully lucky to know her.”

“Good. I can tell you treat her right just based on the fact of how quick she was to defend you. Meeting under these circumstances is not ideal, but you’ll have to come over for dinner one night.”

She defended me?

“Sir, I would be delighted to have dinner with you and your family.” Joel was in disbelief to say the least. He was not expecting your father to be so open to him like that.

“I also want to say I appreciate you sticking up for my daughter. She’s pretty good at holding her own, and she gets that from her mother, but thank you for keeping her safe.”

“You’re welcome sir.”

“Once we get you booked in the station, you can call your brother to come pick you up. It’s a small fine to be paid, but I’m sure he can manage it.”

Joel could only nod as your father closed the back door before climbing into the driver's seat. The drive to the station was a quiet one and once Joel was booked in, he immediately called Tommy.

“Tommy? Hey, it’s Joel. Uhh..listen, are you busy right now? I uh—I’m in jail.”

The last thing Tommy was expecting was for his big brother to call him and say that he got himself arrested. It was unlike Joel and completely against his nature. “Joel? What the fuck are you talkin’ about? The hell did ya do to get arrested?”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose as he inhaled deeply, resting his forehead against the cold brick wall. “I punched Clover’s ex in the face..well, in the nose. Broke it and everythin.’ He showed up to the barn uninvited, and he put his hands on her and I lost it.”

“Clover? Ohhh is that your girl’s nickname? That’s cute. I just can’t believe that my big brother, Joel fuckin’ Miller got his ass thrown in jail. Man, I’m never gonna live this one down.”

“Yeah, that’s her nickname ‘cus she’s my lucky charm. Anyway, can you cut the crap and just come fuckin’ bail me out? I don’t wanna sit here all night. Also, do not fuckin’ bring this up to Sarah. She ain’t need to know that her dad got arrested, alright?”

“Aw, she’s your lucky charm? Man, that’s so stinkin’ cute! Yeah, hang tight big brother. Tommy is coming to the rescue! I won’t bring this up to Sarah. You have my word.” Joel could hear Tommy smirking through the receiver.

“Thank you so much. However will I repay you?” Joel grumbled sarcastically.

“With a big ole’ hug and kiss!” Tommy laughed as he grabbed his keys quickly.

“I ain’t gonna kiss ya Tommy.”

“You ain’t got much of a choice, big brother. Alright, I’m gettin’ in my truck now. See ya soon!”

Joel hung up with a sigh. At least your father was kind enough to place him in a semi comfortable holding cell. It was still pretty cold, but it was just him in the room thank god.

Tommy arrived at the police station about 20 minutes later. He gave the chief of police a little salute and a wink before paying the small fine of $500 and signed his brother out. He had a big smirk on his stupid face when Joel was released from his short stay in jail. A grimace was plastered on his face as Tommy pulled him in for a hug, to which Joel begrudgingly returned.

Once the two Miller brothers were safely in Tommy’s truck, Joel barely had a second to breathe before his younger brother was opening his big mouth. “Joel, what in the hell were you thinkin’ hittin’ her ex like that?!? Man, you’re so lucky that you didn’t have to sit in a cell all night! What do we say to Tommy? Thank you so much for bailin’ me out of jail! You’re the bestest brother I could ever ask for!”

Joel let out a frustrated groan at his brother's antics as he reached over the dashboard and trapped him in a headlock. “You and that big fuckin’ mouth of yours is always gettin’ you in trouble! I did what I had to do. The guy was a total fuckin’ prick, and like I told ya earlier, he put his fuckin’ hands on her.”

Tommy playfully pushed his brother away. Well, he attempted to but Joel’s grip was pretty damn strong. “Okay, okay! I yield! I yield! Lemme go! C’mon big brother, I was only messin’ with ya!” Tommy pleaded with him.

Joel gave him a knucklehead sandwich as he messed up the younger Miller’s hair before he finally released him.

“Seriously though, are you alright Joel? No silly talk I promise.”

Joel let out a deep sigh as he sunk back into the passenger seat and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Yeah, I’m alright. I just..I probably shouldn’t have punched him in the face. He had it comin.’”

“I mean, yeah. You probably shouldn’t have punched him in the face. I ain’t one to judge ‘cus I woulda done the same thing.”

Joel looked over at him shaking his head a little. “I guess the only thing I’m worried about is if Clover is upset with me..I think she is and I can’t really blame her but at the same time, I don’t want her to be upset with me.”

“Yeah man. I get you. Listen, before we get into this deep brother to brother talk, how about we go and pick up some burgers and beers, and park somewhere n’just relax for a minute. Does that sound like a good plan to you?”

“Like what we used to do in highschool after football practices, and when your prom date ditched you senior year for what’s his name? Brett somethin?’” Joel was snapping his fingers as he tried to remember the running back that stole Tommy’s date.

“Brett-go-fuck-yourself-date-stealin’-rotten-son-of-a-bitch.” Yeah, I remember him. That was the first night you and I really talked too. Like, on a deeper level. Shit, didn’t we go and egg his house afterwards too?” Tommy looked over at his brother with a big grin. It was nice to reminisce on the past.

“Yes! It was like what, three in the mornin’ or somethin?’ God, if Ma would have known what we were doin’, she woulda killed us.” Joel chuckled.

“Best part of the whole thing was Brett’s sister felt sooo bad for what had happened that she personally apologized by givin’ me a blowie in my truck the followin’ weekend. ‘Oh, Tommy! I’m so sorry that my mean brother stole your date like that let me just suck’—”

“Okay, now you’ve just gone and ruined the moment. Jesus Christ, Tommy. Is there ever a moment where you’re not thinkin’ of sex?” Joel asked with an exasperated sigh.

“Pssh. Of course there are moments where I’m not thinkin’ about sex! I’m not a total imbecile y’know.” Tommy shot him a playful wink as he started the ignition.

“Yeah? Well, I ain’t too sure about that bein’ true Tommy.”

“Oh my gosh, are you..are you callin’ me a whore?” Tommy looked over at him in disbelief, with his hand across his chest.

Joel gave him a ‘are you serious?’ look before he rolled his eyes. “Uh huh. That’s exactly what I’m callin’ ya. You’re a whore and you’re proud of it too.”

The Miller brothers went to their favorite drive through joint in town. They each got a burger, fries, and 2 beers to go. They pulled up to their old highschool and parked near the football field.

Tommy put the radio on low while he inhaled his burger and fries. The summer air was warm, and there were fireflies flashing all over the pitch black football field. ‘Take On Me’ was crackling through the old radio system.

“Hey, Tommy? Uh..how soon is too soon to tell someone that you love them?” Joel asked with uncertainty laced in his tone.

Tommy slowly turned his head to look at his brother. He blinked a few times as he processed the 4 letter word that Joel hadn’t uttered in years. “Uh..are ya feelin’ alright big brother? You ain’t got a fever or somethin’ do ya?”

“For fuck sakes Tommy. Don’t look at me like that. I just—is it too soon?”

Tommy reached for his beer in the nearest cup holder and took a big swig as he sank back into the old worn leather on the driver's seat. “Alright, so it’s undeniable that you two love each other. Anyone with two goddamn eyes can see that. However, I think you just need to take a step back for a moment, and calm down a little. I don’t wantcha jumpin’ the gun and confessing your undying love to her.”

“You..think she loves me too? I ain’t gonna go and confess my undyin’ love for her. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Joel, of course she loves you. I just don’t want to see ya hurt. Not that Clover would ever hurt ya or anythin’ but as your brother, I gotta look out for ya. I love you too much to see you hurt again. I just wanna see you happy Joel.” Tommy was genuine with his words of course. He loved Joel dearly and he truly did just want his brother to be happy.

“I love you too, Tommy. Even when you annoy me half the fuckin’ time. I’m not gonna do anythin’ irrational I swear. It’s just that..well, the last time I cared about someone this much was—”

“Sarah’s mom. I know Joel. I was there, remember?”

“I wish I didn’t remember honestly. It was such an ugly situation for me. Comin’ home and seein’ all her shit gone. Our bedroom empty. She didn’t even leave a fuckin’ note.” Joel bit back his bitter tears from spilling as he remembered the night he came home to an empty bed.

“I never saw you cry so much in my fuckin’ life…I wanted to cry for you.” Tommy softly admitted as he reached over and gently squeezed his brother's shoulder.

“Thank god Sarah was just a little thing at the time..she didn’t understand what was goin’ on. Remember the look on the neighbor's face when I was drunk n’sobbin’ in the front yard? Good times. Good fucking times.” Joel laughed pathetically.

“Hey, listen to me okay? Yeah, that was a real dark fuckin’ time for you. My heart broke for you, and Sarah that night. You got somethin’ good now, Joel. Somethin’ real good. You ain’t ever gonna cry like that again. Alright?”

Joel sniffed as he wiped at his nose and looked over at him. “She won’t hurt me like that. She’s too kind to do that. Too gentle, too wonderful. The loveliest person that I have ever had the privilege of knowin.’” He was teary eyed as he looked at his brother. These weren’t sad tears; these were tears of relief.

“Nah. She’s a dime in a dozen. ‘Special in every way. Now please shut up before you make me cry too. I’m too fuckin’ pretty to cry!” Tommy jokingly said.

“So what does that make me? An ugly crier? I see how it is.” Joel teased.

“The ugliest crier of all fuckin’ time.”

“Shut your whore ass mouth up, Tommy. That was mean.” Joel said with a grin.

It was nearing 3a.m when Tommy drove Joel back to the barn so he could pick up his truck. “Hey lover boy? You drive straight on home. Don’t stop at her apartment, cause I know you’ll be tempted to. Just give her some space to breathe, and you can see her in the mornin.’”

Joel twirled his own keys between his fingers as he went to open the passenger door. “Alright. I’ll drive right on home. I won’t go to her apartment. I’ll call her in the mornin’ or somethin.’”

Tommy thought it was a little suspicious that Joel wasn’t trying to fight him on this. Regardless of his suspicions, he decided to trust his brother. “Alright. Text me when you get home then, alright? I’ll be at Ryder’s.”

“At this hour? Well, you have yourself a good time with her Tommy. Tell her I say hello.” Joel gave him a little nod before he slipped out of the driver's seat.

“Well, uh yeah. She’s my girlfriend, and we love to have late night sleepovers.” Tommy said with a grin.

“Girlfriend? Congratulations, baby brother. She’s a lucky lucky gal.”

“Nah, I’m the luckiest man. She’s amazin.’” Tommy was just as lovestruck as Joel was.

Both Miller brothers waved goodbye as they drove off in separate directions. Of course..Joel didn’t keep his word on driving straight home. He had to go and make sure that you were okay. It was going to eat him up inside if he didn’t.

So that’s how your Texas tall glass of water ended up standing outside your apartment at 3 in the morning. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans after he knocked on your door.

He was just about to head back down the steps after a few minutes when he heard the front door creak open and your soft voice drifting through the calm balmy summer air. “Joel?…what are you doing here? It's like..3 in the morning.” You were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you leaned against the door jamb, wearing nothing but Joel’s t-shirt and a pair of panties.

“Baby?..hey, m’sorry. I know it’s late. I didn't mean to wake ya. I just..I wanted to make sure you were okay after everything that happened..” he sheepishly whispered as he stood with his hands still shoved in his pockets.

“You drove all this way..to make sure I was okay? Joel, baby. You’re exhausted. Do you..do you want to come in for some tea?” You looked up at him through sleepy lashes.

“Yeah, I’d love to come in for some tea..” Joel gave you a small hesitant smile as he stepped inside your quaint apartment, taking his boots off by the doormat as you closed the door softly.

“What kind of tea do you like?..” you padded past him into the kitchen as you grabbed the kettle and filled it up with water. “I have mint, sleepy-time, hibiscus, chamomile..and like anything your heart desires.”

Joel set his phone and other personables down on the coffee table after he texted Tommy and let him know he got home safely. “Sleepy-time is one of my favorites.”

“Mine too.” You grabbed two mugs and started the kettle on the stove. There was a fallen silence between the two of you as you waited for the kettle to boil. Once it was ready, you steeped the tea bags in the mugs before bringing them over. You gently handed Joel his mug before sinking down on the couch beside him.

You each took a few small sips before Joel broke through the ice. “Listen, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. I’m not a violent person..and punching your ex in the face like that was pretty fuckin’ stupid of me. I understand if you..need some space from me or somethin.’ I can’t blame you if you do.”

You rested the mug between your palms as you looked over at him. “Joel..I don’t want any space from you, okay? That’s not what..I don’t want you to think that all of a sudden I don’t want to see you anymore. I promise you that’s not what’s happening here. Am I upset that you..acted in violence? Yeah, I am. It’s something that I don’t condone. However, I’m not mad at you. I know why you did what you did, but you can’t let people get to you like that. Logan is an instigator. That’s how he always has been. He just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

Joel slowly looked over at you as he took another sip of tea. “Okay..I just, I wanted to make sure because if you did want space, I would 100% give it to you darlin.’” He reached over with his free hand and gave your exposed knee a gentle squeeze. “I know I shouldn’t have let him get to me. It’s just that when I saw him grab you like that..I just couldn’t hold back. I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you or anythin.’”

You gently rested your head against his own with a soft sigh, wrapping your hand around his bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, I know you would give me space if I asked for it, cowboy. I’m not scared of you at all. The situation just..it got out of control super fast. I know you’re not a violent man Joel. It would take a lot for you to scare me away.”

Joel kept his hand gently resting along your knee, brushing his fingers across the underside of it before he was coaxing your legs to rest along his lap. “Okay, I’ll try and not dwell on it too much. I’m glad we could have this conversation. Tommy told me I should wait till tomorrow..but I get anxious over these things. I also truly just wanted to make sure you were okay, baby. I could have called, texted, but I needed to see you in person.” His hands were gently massaging your calves now as they were draped over his thighs.

You let your back rest along the pillows on the couch comfortably as he massaged your calves. You knew that Joel Miller presently had multiple love languages. Acts of service, physical touch, and words of affirmation. This combination felt like a warm cup of tea, doused in sticky sweet honey that melted on your tongue. “I was going to call you earlier. I just didn’t know if you needed space as well. So, I ended up calling Ryder over and she came and hung out with me for a few hours. I’m really glad you came over. I wanted to make sure that you were okay too.”

“I’m glad I went against my brother’s words. My gut was tellin’ me to come and see ya. The tea is just a wonderful added bonus.” He softly chuckled.

“Well, I’m glad you went with your gut. Although, Tommy is probably gonna disagree. I can butter him up for you.” You softly giggled.

“Butter him up? Nah, I’ll handle him. Besides, I don’t need my girl butterin’ up my little brother. He’s got enough ego boostin’ as it is. How about you save that butterin’ up for me? You got any to spare?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you playfully causing you to snort tea up your nose.

“Is that an innuendo for?..” you giggled as you wiped away the stray drops of tea from under your nose.

Joel was as red as a fire hydrant now as he looked over at you and shook his head vigorously. “Dear god. I gotta stop spendin’ so much time with my brother. He’s rottin’ my damn brain from the inside out.” He nervously chuckled.

“Oh baby, don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay. Besides, I was just messing with you.” You shot him a playful wink. “You wanna finish watching the episode of Friends that we left off from last time?”

“With you? Absolutely. Put it on and get nice and comfy.” He grabbed your mug from your hands gently and set it along the coffee table before he pulled you into his strong arms so you could fully rest your body along his chest.

You fell asleep after halfway through the episode with your cheek comfortably resting against his chest, right where his heartbeat lay, and his fingers gently playing with your hair.

Tag List: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @soft-cryptids @dinsdjrn @lovers-liability @777-wonders @mirasantidotes @pedgeitopascal @loquaciousferret @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @bonglorddaryl @sarahhxx03 @myrealmofchaos @finnsbubblegum @danilakozlovsky @pedropascalfan221 @missgurrl @leeeesahhh @yazsos @casa-boiardi @last-girl @frankthesexualsadist @shatteredbaby @rye-flower @elliewilliamsno1simp @wonder-harley @userpedros @pedrospartner @morning-star-joy @ilovepedro @ranahx @tinygarbage @pedrostories

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #joel miller x reader #blue jeans n’ texas dreams fic #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #horse dad joel #tommy miller #sarah miller #toxic ex #mild violence #anxitey #arguments #angst #pre! outbreak joel miller #pre!outbreak joel #joel miller imagine #joel miller story

[thegirlwholied]

So. Having a brain MRI the day before election day was *not exactly relaxing* BUT my results are *back*. And totally, completely, deliciously-boringly *normal*. *Good News*!! We're now firmly back to "your bod freaked out, have some weed" (and thank you @aliform for that perfect summary) & oh yes will I ever be relying heavily on that recommended CBD oil today.

#so it was definitely a mild concussion with whiplash #but also totally unrelated allergies that have kicked in at the same time #and my already simmering anxiety BOILED the hell over #even though I am mentally relieved getting my physical body to understand this (the finger twitching MUST stop it is spooky) may take time #also I have my OBGYN appointment today so that's one last health stress to get through #presumably my recent Bad Periods are also stress? we hope?? #that's the last box to check #for someone who was making a point of Going Nowhere *damn* I have had to see a lot of doctors lately #if I could get rid of the clicking in my ears (Eustachian tubes) & just deep breathe I think a lot of my stress would ebb #but the combined power of Claritin + Flonase is not doing the trick ahhhhh #if my OBGYN can just clear me & not give me anything else to deal with I'm going to take my ENT's recommendation #and try adding on the basic OG version of Mucinex for 3 days #hope that Mucinex/Claritin/Flonase together can go Captain Planet on my newfound allergies #what a year to get allergies for the first time hitting primarily my ears and arriving 36 hrs after hitting my head! #what a perfect little hellstorm! #thank god i got the MRI over with & results back *before* today though omg if it was later this week what would i even do

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

hellooo i would just like to request a poly!marauders x reader smut where Remus and James are just absolutely dominating her and Sirius. of course Sirius is gonna have a bit of an attitude. i don’t really care what it’s about, i mean who doesn’t love smut with no plot? i appreciate you taking your time to answer my request, i love you and your writing so much💕

Trouble

I love you too, thank you sm!! 🥰

Don't know if I like this... :(

Warning: 18+

---

„We leave you for a few minutes and come back to this?“ Remus' voice was controlled, but the underlying threat was still there.

Sirius and you shared an apprehensive glance, already regretting your little make out session, although it had felt so right just a few seconds ago.

„We-“ Sirius' swallowed tensely once James threw him a sharp look, the dom only having to raise his hand to silence the bright eyed boy.

„I said I don‘t want to hear shit from either of you“ Remus said angrily, before he put his cigarette out to walk over. He gently tilted your head up to meet his eyes and you nervously fidgeted with your hands as he stared you down.

„I know he‘s a brat“ Remus said mildly, „but you do remember what you promised me this morning, right little one?“

You blinked submissively, nodding your head softly. „Yes, Remus.“

„Well“ Remus coaxed softly, „what was it?“

You cleared your throat and took a glimpse at Sirius' curious face. „I promised to keep Sirius in check.“

Remus nodded in confirmation and his hand tightened around your chin.

„You break your promise and I break you.“

You whimpered at that, brows creasing worriedly. Remus ignored you and turned his attention to James.

„Remus“ James rumbled, „take care of her. I‘ll take this one.“ His tone was absolute and it made Sirius antsy, his lips parting to apologize.

„Jam-“

His eyes stayed fixed on Sirius, who had the audacity to at least look scared. And he should be. James doesn‘t play.

„Shush“ James ground out, „you‘ve done enough.“

As ruthless as Remus was, he did hold back at least a little during punishments, maybe because you always made an effort to be a good girl for them. Sirius could only be kept in check through James‘ punishments, probably because James loved the way he could make Sirius’ pretty grey eyes tear up in pain. And he loved that Sirius even then wouldn‘t give in, too proud to admit his fault. Oh fuck yes, James loved a challenge.

„Sirius“ James said in an overly cheery way, „you‘re not cumming tonight, unless you admit your fault.“

Sirius‘ scared expression turned sour and he wouldn‘t be the brat of the relationship if he didn‘t immediately make his displeasure know.

„Kissing involves two people“ he put the emphasis on two, „so the way I see it, she shouldn‘t cum as well!“

Remus spoke up this time, a mocking smile on his lips. „Sirius. Get on your fucking hands and knees before I spank you so hard that you‘ll bleed all over.“

Sirius‘ eyes widened and he scrambled to get on his hands and knees, his face directly in front of yours. The accusation was so clear in his eyes that you glanced down at your hands guiltily to avoid his pointed glare.

„I have a special kind of punishment for you both“ James drawled, hands ghosting over Sirius‘ pale legs. Sirius closed his eyes tightly when he felt James‘ callous fingers dip into the crease of his behind, middle finger rubbing teasingly against the tight ring of muscle.

Sirius gasped quietly when James pushed inside, hissing in pain at the dry stretch. Remus snapped his fingers to get your attention and nodded his head towards the groaning boy in front of you.

„Shut him up.“

You pressed your lips on his to silence his next moans, kissing him deeply to swallow any noise. His breathing was coming out in short puffs, letting you pull him closer by his long hair. Biting his lip you continued to drown out any whine and whimper that escaped him, trying to save him from an additional punishment.

Suddenly Sirius was pushed forward so hard that he fell against your chest, mouth opening wide to let out a pained cry. James had pushed in another finger and was fucking into Sirius‘ ass steadily while Remus was squeezing the base of his cock to hold off his pleasure.

„Shut. Him. Up“ James growled, curling his fingers to hit Sirius‘ g-spot with every word.

„I have an idea“ you said meekly, flushing when your doms pinned you with their intense gazes.

„This should be good“ Remus grinned and raised a brow, „Go ahead.“

Slowly peeling off your panties you tugged at Sirius‘ hair until his face was between your legs. Sirius groaned at the sight of your cunt so openly on display and dove tight in like a madman, sucking and licking you with so much vigor that you had to hold him back sometimes so he wouldn‘t accidentally make you cum.

„Quiet, Sirius“ you said breathlessly, „Oh fuck, just like that!“

Sirius‘ breath came out rugged against your soaked cunt and you bit your tongue to keep in any of your own moans. God the way his perfect face was contorted in utter pleasure made you so fucking hot and you pulled him back by his hair in a silent plea.

„Sirius, you will fuck her while I fuck you.“

You froze at James‘ next command and you saw the same fear reflect in Sirius‘ eyes. How the hell would you be able to stop yourself from cumming like that? Sirius‘ mouth opened and before he could make it worse for any of you, you decided to jump right in.

„But-“

„Yes!“ You glared at Sirius for good measure and softened your expression when your eyes wandered to your dom again, „Yes, James.“

Sirius clenched his jaw angrily and pulled you down by your waist so you would be situated directly under him. You saw the anger simmering right under the surface and winced, knowing that he wouldn‘t make it easy for you. As if he knew what you were thinking he gave you a menacing smile, grey eyes twinkling with a mirth.

James pushed Sirius forward with a jolt, his impossibly hard cock dragging across your cunt harshly and you pushed back against him, letting him sink into your body with a single push of James‘ hands.

„Remember Sirius“ James chidded upon seeing Sirius‘ pained expression, „no cumming without permisson.“

With that he curled his fingers and fucked Sirius earnest, the brat crying out with the hot feeling of you wrapped around him and James making him feel so full with only his fingers.

Remus made his way over to you after he finished his cigarette and gave you a pout, stroking your cheeks so gently as if you weren‘t being fucked right now.

„Remus“ you gasped, enclosing your small hands on his scarred forearms, „please!“

Remus gave you a patient smile and crawled closer, his cock brushing against your lips but Sirius beat you to it, taking Remus as far down as he could in his position. Oh the sight of Sirius was a crass one. With James fucking his ass and his cock deep inside your cunt he sucked Remus messily to help himself not make any noise.

„You little slut“ Remus spit out but made no moves to stop him, „need to fill every hole huh?“

Sirius fixated his eyes on Remus and pulled away with an obscene pop, guiding his cock into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down like a little fucktoy.

„Yes Remus“ he moaned coyly, „need to be fucked, please?“ He batted his eyelashes so prettily and Remus gave in, hissing at James to finally fuck him good.

James had already prepared himself and thrust into Sirius with an aggressive shove, forcing himself as deep as possible. Sirius, being the brat he is, didn‘t want to give James the satisfaction of seeing him in pain, so he rushed forward and wrapped his lips around Remus‘ cock as well.

„Oh no you fucking don‘t!“ James grabbed Sirius by his hair and pulled his back against his chest, restraining him in a headlock.

„James!“ Sirius shouted and convulsed in his arms, the impending threat of his orgasm approaching rapidly. It spread in his veins and made him boil over, forcing Sirius to forget about his pride and start begging.

„Please!“ Sirius wailed and trashed around, trying to escape the oneslaught of his cock clenched in your cunt.

„No!“ James roared, lost in the pleasure himself and held Sirius‘ mouth closed with his big palm, „Don‘t you fucking dare.“

Remus had pulled you away from his cock with the promise of cumming inside of you and made you watch, your own orgasm not far off with Sirius‘ being constantly tugged back and forth between your thighs.

„Ah Remus fuck“ you cried out as your eyes teared up with anxiety at the thought of how close you were to cumming, „pleaseplease let me cum!“

„Beg.“ Remus barked out, teeth nipping at your nipples and it made your vision turn a blazing white light for a second.

„Please“ You were screaming now, nails leaving little bloodstains on his hands, „Please! James! Remus! Please!“

Remus pulled back to watch your face and gave you a curt nod. Your eyes fell shut and your voice broke with the volume of your screams as your release rushed hot and cold over your entire body, momentarily freezing your heart, before a particularly strong pound made you snap out of your trance. Remus had to hold his own cock to deny himself, cursing softly at the sight of you letting go after being denied for so long.

Sirius and James were so engrossed in their fucking that they didn't even notice when Remus pulled you away and made you sit down on his cock.

"See Sirius" James huffed out between groans, "See how she got to cum? See fuck see what happens when you're being good ah-"

"Jaaames" Sirius cried out, clawing at the sheets. His head fell on the matress between his shoulders and he let out such a pitiful, pathetic whimper that you whined with him, sharing his pain from being overstimulated by Remus.

That’s what they always do. Punish Sirius with orgasm denial and you with overstimulation.

"Remus please wait" Your cries mixed with Sirius' and your sounds, mixed with the deep groans and degredations of your doms made all of you fall into that hazy trance, the only thing on your mind was fucking.

"No" Remus growled out, raking his blunt nails down your back, "No, wanna have you mmm yes fuck-"

Holding you down by your shoulders he pounded you, leaving hot open mouthed kisses on your throat and chest, hands wandering all over your back and ass, moving you in time with his thrusts. You were sweating all over, pressing his head on your chest. Your muscles tightened as Remus moaned his orgasm into your ear, and you came for the second time this night, sobbing as you felt his cum in your cunt.

James had manhandled Sirius on his back, locking his hands over the dark long hair and staring into hsi eyes. Not only was he deniying Sirius, but also himself.

"Tell me what I want to hear" James was seething with anger, growing desperate himself for Sirius to admit his fault.

"No!" Sirius yelled back, muscles flexed with determination not to cum. He knew that he'll have to beg eventually, but Sirius would do anything in his power to delay that.

James wrapped his hand around Sirius' delicate neck, squeezing the sides and Sirius nearly exploded when his circulation cut off.

"Beg!"

"N- ah James!" Sirius cried out, the surprise clear in his high-pitched voice and you and Remus watched contentedly as his walls broke into a million pieces. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry please god please anything!"

"Cum!" James finally allowed him to let go, jerking him off in time with his harsh thrusts, a choked groan escaping him while they clung to each other, riding out their orgasms.

Sirius couldn't stop shaking and glanced back at you to reassure him, James' dominating aura always made him hypersensitive after sex. You gave him a tired smile and pulled him on top of your body, shushing him gently while Remus went over to cuddle James.

After some time Sirius' breathing slowed down and he called James' and Remus' name.

"Prongs, Moony, get up here.."

Settling in a big pile on top of each other you enjoyed the closeness, breathing each other in and dosing off in minutes.

#remus x sirius x james x you #marauders x reader #marauders smut #remus lupin smut #james potter smut #sirius black smut #poly!marauders

[thesedangeroustemptations]

Baki boy’s handling a S/O who randomly flinches at being unexpectedly touched due to their past

Hi guys! I haven’t written in a while and I haven’t gotten any requests, so I thought I’d write about something that I struggle with and that other people might as well! So, Trigger Warning is in effect for down below, if you think it might bother you, feel free to keep scrolling and I’ll see you around for the next one, have a great day <3 

TW: Prior abusive relationships, dementia, anxiety, PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) and family issues 

Baki Hanma: 

The first time Baki notices it, the two of them are at school and he snuck up behind them to surprise them as they didn’t have classes together until after lunch, his hands resting on their hips and the moment he did this, they about jumped out of their skin.

 He instinctively believes that something is wrong, and despite his brain telling him to bring it up in conversation, he didn’t want to possibly upset them. Simply rationalizing it as he snuck up on them, of course they’d be spooked. Anyone would be... right? 

Wrong. This behavior continued at the most random of times; they’d be having a good time and then he’d move his arm too fast, the next moment they were flinching away from him with a frightened expression that they were consciously trying to control. 

This was no longer something that Baki could ignore, and chose to approach the conversation as gently and casually as he could to not upset them too much, but it seemed by the tears welling in their eyes that this was a sensitive topic.

They explain about their relationship with their parents, how when they were living with them, they were physically abusive when it came to getting their way or discipline. Anything could be used as an excuse to hit them, not taking out the trash on time? Slap. Not doing the dishes and laundry before their parents got home? Smack. Seemed to be having an attitude when answering a question? Slap. Anything ranging to them ‘breathing with attitude’. So, when they were old enough and had enough money, they moved out and cut off contact.

Upon hearing this, Baki could hardly think straight, and it took everything in him to keep himself from finding them himself to give them a piece of what they put his beloved through, but he couldn’t do that. 

He knew that the place he was most needed was right there, so he’d wrap his arms around their shakily breaking frame and hold them close to his chest, one hand rubbing their back while the other smoothed back their hair, gentle kisses peppering their forehead as he rocked the two of them. 

He would never allow anything to harm them again, and if he ever got the chance to meet their parents... it’s game on. “I know it’s something that you can’t help, but try to remember as best you can that I’d die before I laid a hand on you in anger or allowed anyone else to ever again.”

Jack Hanma: 

This man is nowhere near as patient as his brother, so the first moment he notices something is off with his partner and quick, unexpected movements, he confronts them and he wants his answers then, not the second time he asks, something he makes very clear. Jack doesn’t like repeating himself or vague answers.

However, what he wasn’t expecting was for them to tell him to mind his own business and stalk away as if he had done something wrong. This doesn’t sit well with the blonde giant, they’re normally very open and honest about nearly anything and everything with him, so this personality flip only deepened his concern. 

Letting the pot simmer for a few hours while he worked to collect his thoughts on the matter, he would later find them in their shared room, an apologetic look etched into his expression which was a rarity held only for the likes of his S/O. 

“I’m sorry... can you please just tell me what it is that’s upsetting you already?” He would murmur from the door, waiting like a puppy to be called over to the bed and as soon as he is, he clears the room in two strides, taking a seat beside them and wrapping his protective arms around them.

Jack doesn’t have much tact when it comes to this, but his heart is in the right place and his S/O can see that he means well, so despite his blunt approach, so the moment his arms wrapped around them, they relent and finally open up to him about their past relationships with their older siblings and how they would frequently be used as the punching bag, figuratively and literally. 

Just as his anger was beginning to boil over, and he was ready to sit them down with a movie while he went out to have a ‘conversation’ with them all, they hit him with something that he hadn’t been expecting, 

“You know, if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have wanted to start training, and then maybe I wouldn’t have met you. So, I guess I owe them a thank you for giving me you.” They spoke with such sincerity, how could he argue back at that? Their hands gently cupping his cheeks as they smiled slightly at him, hoping to get one back.

It was with that, he felt every ounce of anger leave his body and all he could feel was love for the person he was holding. They had a point, there was no guarantee that they would have met outside of their shared love for the gym, so maybe he did have them to thank. Not out loud of course, because fuck them, all he cared about was what was in his arms.

Katsumi Orochi: 

Katsumi would be one of the first to notice something was wrong with his S/O, he had known them for a bit of time before deciding to ask them to be his, so he had time to observe the way they interacted with others and the little tics that they had. 

The first time he had seen it happen as when someone in his class had walked up beside them without their noticing and then spoke, earning them a clock to the face and a thousand apologies after that. Of course, he like Baki, would try to rationalize it as them being spooked until the issue persisted into their relationship, and they were doing it with him.

The first time it happened in private, he would catch their fist as it swung in his direction and pulled them close, speaking in as soft and soothing voice as he could while addressing the issue at hand. “I don’t want to upset you, in fact that’s my last wish, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

No longer able to run from it, they finally broke down and the two curled up in their shared bed while they went over their past relationship and how they were frequently met with physical violence at any time, ranging from a slap across the face, to a punch, to things further that they weren’t comfortable telling him. 

This was what he wanted, he wanted them to tell him what was wrong, why they acted the way they did, so why was he so upset over knowing the truth? Seeing the tears welling in his S/O’s eyes and trickling down their rosy cheeks told him the reason; who could hurt someone so kind and gentle? It infuriated him, but he couldn’t show it, he needed to be strong for the person he loved when they needed him the most.

Wrapping his muscular arms around their frame, he pulled them closer to him and rested his chin on top of their head, eyes focused on the wall ahead of them as he listened to their breathing, reminding himself that they were safe with him, and there wasn’t a chance in hell of them ever harming them again; if they tried, that’s free anger management. 

When the two of them laid down that night, he made them a promise that he would never let anything happen to them again, and that he would help them get their sense of safety back, that they wouldn’t have to react in such a defensive and reactionary way when the people around them would never hurt them. They didn’t understand fully just how seriously he would take that promise. 

From that day forward, he would frequently remind them that they were safe, they would train harder and longer so they would feel as though they could handle themselves in any situation, and anytime they would start to feel anxious or out of control, he would hold them in his arms and remind them of the promise he made, and that he would never leave them alone to deal with this. 

Kaioh Retsu: 

This man would be the best out of all of them when it comes to noticing and reaction, not gonna lie. He didn’t need to see them flinch away from people, he could see the way that they would scan the room before making any movements, how they would take note of everyone else in the room with them and where they were, the consistently worried and alert look in their eye. It had him coming to conclusions of his own, and he was afraid that they would be right. 

Would approach the topic after a night at home, the two in the shower and them flinching at his touch once he finally joined them in the water. He would bring it up gently, his arms wrapping around their body so that they would feel safe with him, pressing his toned form against theirs in an attempt to show that they are one. 

“I love you, and I can feel when you’re upset by something, so please, trust me enough to confide in me. I simply wish to help you.” He would plead with them, his dark eyes showing nothing but sincerity and honesty to where his S/O can’t deny him. 

Retsu would let them stray from the topic a few times before finally pressing the topic a bit more firmly, showing that he would not be relenting on this and that it would save them both some time if they just went ahead and told him what he wanted to know. 

Gently stroking their cheek with the back of his fingers, his other hand still placed on their lower back and holding them still as he listened to their words, processing how they had been bullied when they were younger and dealt with physical attacks at school that no one did anything about, so they had to always be on guard and be able to run at a seconds notice, hence the flinching away at unexpected touching.

It made sense to him, it did, but what he couldn’t grasp just yet was why they hadn’t chosen to defend themselves, until they explained it was nearly everyone, so one against a huge group when they were just a child wouldn’t have ended well and he had to admit they were right. 

Makes it his mission to make them feel as safe as possible, keeping them away from any type of danger or stressful situation where people would be moving at fast paces so not to trigger their fight or flight reaction and cause them anxiety. Retsu is very mindful of his S/O and makes sure that they’re comfortable wherever they go, and asks if there’s anything they need from him. 

Also goes the route of teaching them self defense if they don’t already know any, and if they do, simply helps them sharpen them and shows them new techniques that might be more effective to use, but never once does he make them feel like they aren’t strong enough. He wants to build their confidence, and he knows the right way to go about it. 

Kaoru Hanayama:

Kaoru’s S/O is incredibly private about their past, not wanting to let the poor guy in on anything about their prior experiences and why they act the way that they do or why they flinch away from people at the most random times. It’s frustrating to say the least, and whenever it happens, they give him a look that simply says ‘don’t say anything if you don’t want an argument.’

However, Hanayama isn’t the type to shy away from confrontation, and if he feels it’s something that’s detrimental to his S/O, you’d best believe he’s going to bring it up when he feels the time is right and won’t let up on it until he gets a satisfactory answer. Standing in front of the door and blocking it with his large frame to make his point clear as he stares them down with his shadowy hues. 

“I’m not doing this to upset you or trap you here, I’m doing this so you’ll finally tell me what goes on in your head and how I can fix it. If you really want to leave I’ll let you go but just... please. Let me try and do something to help for once instead of shutting me out.” This is not the type of man to beg for anything, he’s head of the Hanayama gang after all, but when it came to the person he loved, he’s willing to do anything, even look like a lovesick fool.

Somehow, that finally got through to them, and they’d sit down on the nearest piece of furniture, be it a couch or bed, and begin to explain slowly, as if they would run out of air every few sentences, about their relationship with their abusive, alcoholic mother, and how she would ‘discipline’ her children in the cruelest ways possible, how it could be at the drop of a hat, over the most obscure and miniscule things, anything that she felt like. 

Being the eldest child, his S/O was forced to endure the brunt of it to keep their siblings safe, things only ever happening to their siblings when they weren’t around, and how they aren’t understood by them now because of how they were raised effected them differently due to this dynamic. 

His mind goes blank for a moment as rage seeps in and takes over, causing his large frame to tense from his position in front of the door; the only thought he had was on repeat: Kill that bitch. Kill that bitch. Kill that bitch. He had the men to do it, he had the strength to do it himself, he had the police under his thumb, he could really get away with this. 

All of these thoughts flooded his mind and clouded his vision until he felt warm hands on his scarred face, earning his attention immediately as his vision cleared and all that he could see was the loving eyes of his S/O as they stood in front of him, a worried expression adorning their face. “Promise me that you won’t do anything to her, she isn’t worth your time or mine. What is, is going forward and leaving the past behind, okay?”

Fuck, they had him there. He was the one who wanted to help them after all, how could he do that by sinking down and doing exactly what was done to them to her? As much as he wanted to tell them that they were wrong, that they would feel better with her off this earth, he couldn’t. Instead, he wrapped his large arms around them and engulfed them into his frame, whispering quietly into their ear as he held them close, “I’ll never let anything hurt you again. Ever. I promise you.”

Kiyosumi Katou: 

This man understands being twitchy, not liking being touched too much unless initiated and would respect that the moment he noticed that was the way that they were, and would have no complaints. 

Until they started acting that way around him in private. They should know that he would never lay a hand on them, and gets slightly insulted that they didn’t register that. 

That is, until they explain that it’s something that they’ve always struggled with due to their high levels of anxiety and that they’d spent years living in an unpredictable environment where they didn’t know if someone was going to start throwing punches or not, unable to defend themselves or fight back.

This took a moment to sink in for Katou, not sure how to react or if they were telling him the truth but then he remembers that they’ve never lied to him in the past and this was something incredibly serious, so why would they do that, right? (Tell me you have trust issues without telling me you have trust issues)

However, the moment that it did fully get through that thick skull of his, he is engulfing his S/O in tight hugs and not saying a word, allowing his actions to speak louder than his words for once in his life, knowing that nothing he could say in that moment would make the pain that they’d gone through go away, and it was insulting to try.

Holding them for the remainder of the night, he wouldn’t want them out of his sight for longer than a few moments to go to the bathroom or get food while they sat on the couch and watched whatever it was that they wanted, because they trusted him enough to be vulnerable and express a part of themselves that they didn’t trust many with, so anything they wanted right now, they were going to get.

From that day forward would take it upon himself to ask how his S/O was doing during the day, if he could do anything to help them feel less anxious or stressed whenever he could tell that they were having a bad day. Most would assume that because of his cunning and brutal nature that Katou wouldn’t be very smart, and IQ wise they’d probably be right, however, when it comes to emotional intelligence, he’s pretty spot on.

Keeps his S/O close wherever they go, his arm is permanently wrapped around their shoulder while they walk down the side walk or standing in line, his expression that of ‘I wil break your neck if you come near them with any bad intentions and I’m not afraid of jail.’

Hector Doyle:

Doyle isn’t one to show much emotion, on his expression or in his words, but he is incredibly observant, and takes in far more information than the average person would in a simple situation, so the moment he saw his S/O flinch their shoulder away from a friend appearing suddenly beside them, he took note of it and began to analyze. 

Had that friend done something to upset them in the past that made them uncomfortable? Had they smelled bad and his S/O didn’t want to be rude by telling them? Several different things went through his mind based on that small interaction, and by the next time it happened with a different person, that it wasn’t anything to do with anyone else, it was you.

Now, the question is, what was causing his S/O to act the way that they had been? Obviously it was something that had been doing for a reason, and it seemed to stem from people either touching them or showing up without their knowledge, or swift movements by those around them. Could they have dealt with prior abuse? The mere thought made Doyle’s blood boil, but he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions without solid evidence or confirmation from them.

He’d bring up the topic while they’re laying in bed late at night one of the rare one’s he’s in heading to sleep the same time as them, given he’s a night owl and prefers the silence of night time and how few people were out, but he’s willing to sacrifice one night to get the answers that have been nagging at the back of his mind to get confirmation for.

“You seem to freak out at the smallest things, like someone moving their hand too fast near you, or touching you when you didn’t see it coming, even when it’s a friend or myself, what’s the deal?” Boy, he could not word that much worse if he had tried, and the reaction he got to such a topic being brought up in that way was to be expected; hostility.

“So, you’ve been sitting here observing me like I’m a lab rat in some experiment?” “What’s wrong with that?” A lot of things, and they made sure he knew it before deciding to give him the answers he’d been wanting to know so badly. It took them a while to find the right words, starting and stopping themselves several times but Doyle sat in silence, watching quietly as he waited patiently for them. He wouldn’t rush them, he’d already been an asshole with his approach.

After a long while of silence on both ends, they explained to him about how their grandmother had dementia while they were growing up and how she lived with them since her parents didn’t want to send her to a home, and while she was mentally deteriorating, she would get violent and throw things or blows, hitting his S/O several times in the head or body when they weren’t paying attention or fast enough, and so it’s become a reflexive habit. 

It wasn’t as bad as he had thought, but still, the mental scars it seemed to take on his S/O were just as bad as real ones in his opinion, so he would start to make it a habit of keeping an eye on their surroundings and stopping anyone from startling his S/O before they had a chance, doing little things like moving slower or announcing his presence; would 100% deny it if his S/O brought it up. He might be a jerk who loves a good fight, but not with his S/O.

#baki the grappler #baki headcanons #baki hanma #jack hanma #katsumi orochi #kiyosumi katou #hector doyle #kaoru hanayama #kaioh retsu #trigger warning #tw

[aenaxes]

omg!! congrats on 200!!!! 🥰🥰 ur my fav crosshair writer so: crosshair + trust, with a gender neutral reader? nsfw or not, it's up to u!! congrats again 🎉🎆🎉

kinesthesia

[crosshair x gn!reader] with precision, there is control, and with control, there is tension, not easily soothed. you take it into your own hands to prove that wrong.

warnings: nsfw, fellatio, (kind of) sub!cross

w/c: 3.0k

a/n: prince my he a r t 🥺💕 ily bb ! this was also a super fun prompt to write hehe, and look i openly accept that i’m a pillow princess bottom, but i think i would enjoy making crosshair squirm. uno reverse card on his oral fixation—mine now.

“I’m still not entirely sold on this,” Crosshair admits as he takes a seat at the edge of your bunk. His toothpick bobs anxiously between his lips, chewed down flat where his lips brush up against the bleached wood. It’s not often that this breed of restlessness finds hold: stiff shoulders and hands folded tight over his lap.

Nerves.

“That’s why we have the safeword,” you quip from across your quarters, voice rising as you struggle to twist out of your heavy uniform jacket.

(Un)surprisingly, Crosshair makes for a quick study. Beneath the stony, oftentimes sullen disposition, he’s a simple man. Of course, that simplicity didn’t necessarily limit himself from branching out into an actual person, but you could boil him down to one thing and one thing alone: control. Whether it was his genetic acuity that shaped him into the sniper persona or vice versa, control centered him, grounded him, tied him so close to his sense of duty and personhood that sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart.

So when you had offered two rotations prior to take the reins—offered both as something new and the hypothetical of release from, well, everything that kept him in a perpetually alert state of coiled tension—you honestly hadn’t expected for Crosshair to pause, rolling his toothpick thoughtfully between his teeth, and accept.

There’s certainly a part of you that hopes the manufactured brevity to your tone is enough to soothe the anxiety radiating from where Crosshair makes himself prim and small on your bed, smaller still without the bulk of his dark armor weighed over his shoulders. But, against your better judgement, a low-lying anticipation simmers at the base of your lungs when you finally shuck the day’s sweat and blaster smoke to the side.

He’s seen you undone under him time and time again, beads of sweat following the smug lines of his expression as he bent you to his—and, to be entirely fair, your own—pleasure. And as satisfying as that arrangement has proven itself to be, curiosity has always been that single, nagging vice at the back of your head.

Who can blame you for wanting a taste?

“You remember it, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, and you catch the heavy dregs of uncertainty (perhaps even bashfulness, ha) dragging at his voice.

“Then say it,” you prod. You gently nudge the point of your knee up against Crosshair’s calf and offer him a mirthful glance. And when that doesn’t seem to banish his withering hesitance, you drop down onto the bunk beside him, grasping his hand in yours and squeezing snug.

“I—” he clears his throat with a soft wince: embarrassment. “I don’t think I’ll need it.”

“Cross,” you warn. Because if you were going to do this, you were going to do this right.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, scrubbing his palm over the highest points of his cheeks. You wonder if the warmth over his cheeks is the same as your own, desirous and shy as you venture into those dark, uncertain places hand in hand. “Tooka, happy?”

“Very happy,” you grin, and you lean close to press a quick peck to the corner of his mouth.

Crosshair leans towards you, lips parted to chase your touch, more, more. But he’ll have his fill, and you’re quick to dart away, leaving him even more disoriented than he already is, all wide eyes that seek you like fading light.

You’re tempted to indulge him because it’s not often that he looks like a kicked loth cat (and he does a damn good impression when he does). But you manage to stuff down the creeping sympathy, opting instead to reach into the pocket of your trousers and produce a well-worn headband.

“Please tell me that’s not Hunter’s.” The rosy edge of desire vanishes from Crosshair’s voice as he catches sight of the broad black swatch of fabric in your palm. In its place, the testing edge of judgement so often home in Crosshair’s snide play.

“Ew, no—what? That’d be weird. And gross. Who do you think I am?”

That seems to do what your previous efforts could not, and your heart jumps when Crosshair responds with a soft snort and shrugs. He’s not resentful, not in the slightest. It’s just trepidation, jumping into uncharted waters with nothing but the trust that your hand, snug over his, would hold fast.

But the laughter settles, drawing back to reveal something that hums quiet between the small eternity between you. Even with your thigh pressed close against Crosshair’s own, you feel him drawing away, hesitant and wanting all at once. You gently pull his hand between you, squeezing once.

“Trust me?” you murmur.

Crosshair offers you a tremulous look, more nervous than apprehensive. You suppose it’s only fitting of him that relinquishing his steady grip over control might be more appealing in concept than on the eve of practice. Nonetheless, when you meet his gaze, you find the kind of uncertainty that heralds excitement, careful but enamored all the same. He nods.

“Then let me take care of you.”

Finally, as you raise your hands to his temples, pressing the dark fabric over his eyes, the tension pulls away from his coiled muscles, dropping his shoulders and bowing his head as you reach around him and tie a knot over the back of his silvery hair. He exhales long and slow as the knot settles snug over his scalp, warmed by the creases left behind by your fingertips and the sudden comfort yet complete unpredictability that shrouds his senses.

Testing the waters, you bring one hand to his cheek, just barely ghosting your fingertips over the lean lines of his jaw, and you are rewarded with a full-bodied shudder that shocks through Crosshair’s form as his lips gently part around his toothpick. Without that precious ability to see, he sits in your palm at your every whim.

You lean forward, gently biting your teeth around the tapered free end of his toothpick, and you feel him swallow hard when you free it from his mouth and drop it to the floor.

“Trust me.”

Chest heaving, he nods again.

“Safeword?”

This time, there is no snark to accompany a begrudging response. “Tooka.” Instead, his voice dips breathy and low between the long breadths between his soft exhales, his beating heart.

“Good boy.”

You surprise yourself at how natural the praise feels, rolling from your tongue and rising over the ambient hum of the ship around you. It fills your chest with something like affection, bordered pride that only swells as you watch him shudder, his lips parting just a little wider to pass that barely-there whimper riding on his exhale.

The hard planes of his body, that star map you’ve committed to the deepest parts of your heart, are familiar terrain under your skin as you flatten your palms over the sharp jut of his collar and travel lower. You pause the heels of your palms over the base of his ribs, pressing softly against the quickening rise and fall of his chest. Satisfaction curls sweet and rich over the tip of your tongue as his stuttering inhale shifts the air around you.

With slow, firm force, you push him backwards onto the bunk, Crosshair’s elbows catching his slow descent over the dark grey sheets until finally drops his head back onto the firm mattress. His chest heaves.

Your fingertips pass over the sinew and soft scar of his abdomen, chasing how his breathing expands from his chest and leaches tension over the length of his torso. You’re certain this isn’t new, not when your intimacy has you stealing the other’s breaths between stuttering gasps. But to feel it under your palms, thrumming and deep—it sets your nerves on fire.

Control. It’s wholly and entirely yours.

You still as the pads of your fingers catch the faint ridge of his waistband. And a part of you is smug with the power of reversal, that it wasn’t Crosshair offering you a knowing smirk as he parted your thighs and pressed close, that it was you, privy to only the deepest intimacy Crosshair could offer.

But it’s exactly that which keeps the power from rushing to your head, stymying the teasing mischief for something warm in your stomach when you trail lower and gently cup over the straining bulge in his blacks. And it grows fonder when Crosshair’s legs jerk with a labored puff of breath, the same one he breathes into your ear when he finally pushes up deep inside you and presses his skin close against yours. He whines, a straining, soft noise through his bitten lips, and you’ve teased long enough.

Crosshair makes a soft noise, somewhere between a gasp and a whining moan, when you finally hook your fingers over the hem of the dark fabric and expose the curved strain of his cock. He’s so open, you think as you reach forwards (though, you suppose being deprived of the one sense that reigned king would do that to you).

You don’t need to be able to see the half of his face rising above the bridge of his nose to envision the soft knit of his dark brows, eyes squeezed shut and lashes fluttering with every soft noise that passes his lips. You don’t need to see the half of his face bound under that broad swath of fabric to envision how his expression breaks from restraint to unbridled euphoria when you trace the edge of your nail down the underside of his cock.

“Please,” you think you hear him whisper past a breathy moan.

Whatever he might have had prepared, the whole gamut of biting, bratty demand to wide-eyed pleas, tumbles back into his throat when you finally climb onto the bunk by his hips, lick the flat of your tongue over your palm, and wrap it snug around the middle of Crosshair’s cock. Instead, you watch with a satisfied awe as he jerks up into your touch, spit-slick lips parted in a silent cry.

“You want my hand or my mouth?” you croon, pumping slowly from the thick base of his erection to the ruddy tip. You want him to feel every quiver of your touch as you run your thumb over the pearly drop of precome beaded at the crown of his cock, reveling in his shudder beneath you. You want to be the only thing he feels.

“Mouth,” he chokes out. “Please.”

“You’re so polite today,” you muse, reaching up with your free hand to rub your thumb over the plush bitten skin of his bottom lip. Emboldened, you slip your finger past his lips, grazing over his teeth as you push the pad of your thumb over his tongue, all the while slowly working your hand over his cock. “The good boy gets what he wants, then. Right?”

For a brief moment, something like disbelief occupies the warm air between you—you, amazed at how easy it is to hold the reins tight; him, stunned that somehow, you in control was as good, if not better, than being the commandeering weight to push your face into the pillows.

Crosshair nods, trembling as you squeeze softly over the base of his cock.

“I need to hear it, mesh’la.”

The last line of his restraint crumbles at the sound: one only ever given from him to you, yet suddenly brought back to him with the full brunt of lust, affection, the secret words you’ve come to call your own. Crosshair bucks up into your hand with a low groan, gasping soft and breathy when you slip your thumb from his mouth and hold him down to the mattress.

“Yes, please.”

You smile and dip low.

Unlike the slow deliberation of your earlier touch, you seal your lips over his ruddy cockhead with one smooth motion, pressing your tongue flat against the underside and hollowing your cheeks. And the heady taste of salt, of trembling anticipation, of him, only sweetens when you flick your eyes up to catch Crosshair tip up his chin, dig his heels into the mattress, and sob.

You sink his cock deeper into your mouth, achingly slow while you continue to work your fist around the base of his cock, and close in a way that coaxes soft, whimpering noises from his lips as he turns his head and clenches his jaw.

Flicking your eyes upwards, a pang of regret shocks through your chest that you aren’t able to see Crosshair come undone from the slightest of touches, tame in comparison to some of your particularly energetic nights. But you do away with the thought as quickly as it comes as his blunt cockhead brushes over the back of your tongue.

His pleasure has always been yours, yours his, you think as you pull back, just until your lips part around the tip of his cock while he shifts and gasps beneath you. You’ll have your turn soon enough.

Before you can sink back down, swallow him as deep as you can, the air by your cheek shifts, and expecting the worst, you lift your chin. But where you expected some stifled yellow light, Crosshair’s fingers feel blindly around you until they find purchase over your cheek. His relief is palpable as his stuttering touch curls over your skin and holds you close.

You smile.

“Trust me?” you ask again, your lips mouthing softly over his cock, catching thick smears of precome over your skin.

“I trust you,” he whispers.

Crosshair cries out, hoarse and as loud as he’s been all night, as you drop your mouth near-midway down the straining length of his cock in one motion, lavishing your tongue under his pulse. His hand tenses over your jaw, blunt nails digging light into your skin as his fingers curl with that bone-deep shock of pleasure. And if the breathy, desperate noises he whimpers into the alcove of the bunk are of any indication, you have a good feeling he’ll want to do this again.

You moan around him in answer. It doesn’t matter to you that his brothers might hear, only a few panels of durasteel away and connected by the reverb of a narrow ship corridor. They probably do hear, but all that matters now is Crosshair, coming impossibly more undone under your tongue as he runs his trembling thumb over the skin of your cheek.

His hips buck up towards you, catching the back of your throat with a soft sting that reaches your nose. If you weren’t so desperate, you might have pinned him down harder or pulled away entirely to let him think about what he had done. But as much as you want to chase this power play, hearing him lose himself to you has you desperate for his touch.

You follow him with every uneven jerk and thrust up into the wet heat of your mouth, letting him take his fill. You simply stroke firmer as his skin warms over your tongue. It’s all so hot, the air heady and thick as you breathe in sharp through your nose and lean into his palm, and you wonder what it feels like, anchored to nothing but you, his sole light in a world gone dark.

His motions fall uneven, his hips twisting against your touch, his breaths becoming deeper, louder as they bounce over the steel ceiling overhead. He’s close.

You twist your fist over his cock, redoubling your efforts. You sink down so far over his cock that your eyes water as you crush the head up against the back of your throat. Heavy and thick, it muffles down a soft gag for you—it’s the deepest you’ve ever taken him. Crosshair notices, and he nearly wails.

He’s been good, you decide as you all but choke around him. He can take that coveted control back. You gently rub his hand, unspoken assent, and his hand slides up your jaw to finds purchase at the back of your head to fuck you down onto him in earnest.

And you take it, eyes blurring with tears and shallow inhales through your nose, holding still and letting him fuck over your tongue until he’s taken his fill. It doesn’t take long for him to spill down your throat, a low, hoarse groan passed between his lips as you struggle to breathe between every dutiful swallow of his thick come down your throat.

“Good boy,” you rasp as you pull the blindfold from over his head.

Crosshair meets you with unfocused eyes, full of wonder and a shaky haze that finds focus on you alone in the low light. Over the ache in your knees, you crawl up to meet him, collapsing down beside him with a soft sigh. He meets you with habit, practiced and true as he tips down his chin and presses his lips to yours, tasting himself on your skin when he swipes his tongue over your lip.

“How was that?” you whisper, breathing soft over his lips.

You tilt your head up enough to catch your nose over Crosshair’s. He still meets you with that same stupor, but you see it begin to mellow into something other than the shock of enjoyment in submission in a man who has only ever known control to be his. It’s quiet and raw, splitting open your chest with that rare kind of warmth that the broad expanse of space and war leave little space to grow.

Yours, whispered and cradled close between your beating hearts, yours alone.

“I’ll remember the safeword,” Crosshair says finally, his voice distant and soft as he still rises out of the aftershocks of his orgasm. But in that weary daze, you catch the rosy relaxation, vulnerable and yet increasingly less rare in your palms. Relief, pride, joy, honeyed goodness rises to the apples of your cheeks at the sound.

“I still think I won’t need it, though.” And you both laugh, curling close.

#hm. i want to peg him now #i still dont know how to tag posts but. i do write better when im significantly inebriated #anyways hehe hope u enjoy!! #i'd also like to send a special thanks to those ppl on youtube who make reverb/slowed playlists *chefs kiss* phenomenal #crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #bobathots #yaej.writes

[dudeandduchess]

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Pillar (Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: Wherein Kyōjurō calms his wife down when she has a panic attack.

Note: This is extremely self-indulgent. Also, thank you for the heartfelt messages. I promise I’ll answer them soon. I just wanted to share this. Thank you.

Warnings: Talks of Mental Health Issues and depictions of their symptoms

***

Crawling out of bed at twelve in the morning was something that wasn’t out of the norm for (Y/n). Getting hungry around that time was such a common occurence, that her husband didn’t even stir as she pushed his arm off of her— right before getting out from her spot next to him.

‘What to eat, what to eat?’ She thought to herself, as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes. Then, she reached over to her bedside drawer, grabbing her phone from where she’d left it charging; knowing full well that she was going to wake up at midnight to unplug it.

She was nothing if not a creature of habit, after all.

With one last look at her husband, to check if he had stirred awake and wanted anything, only to see that he was still asleep. She would have woken Kyōjurō up, as she found eating with someone else much more enjoyable than eating alone, but she didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

(Y/n) padded off to the kitchen then— scrolling through her social media applications all the while. It was a short walk, and she only bothered to turn on a few lights in her wake— as opposed to Kyōjurō who would have turned on all the lights inside the house.

A quiet but affectionate chuckle escaped her lips at that thought, making her sigh as she set her phone down on the kitchen counter.

‘Now, for what to eat,’ The young woman mused to herself once more, all while making her way to the refrigerator so she could look through its contents. However, nothing in there struck her fancy; with most of the ingredients requiring much more effort to cook, than she was willing to put in the work for.

And so— with her mind made up that she wasn’t making an elaborate snack for herself— (Y/n) turned her attention to the eggs on the counter; closing the refrigerator door, and then getting started on making the least fussy thing she could think of: hard boiled eggs.

It wasn’t the most palatable snack, but it would do to tide her over in the meantime. Unless, of course, she woke Kyōjurō up and asked him to get her a burger and fries from the nearest McDonald’s.

But she wasn’t that selfish or insensitive, so she would let her husband get his sleep— and then ask him to get her a burger and fries in the morning, maybe even one of those apple pies.

Her mouth was already watering at the mere thought of biting into the warm and sweet treat.

Still, as she lost herself in her daydream of eating a deep-fried pastry, she set off to start cooking her midnight snack. And with that task already underway, (Y/n) took a seat at the counter and picked her phone back up— setting up a timer for her cold-start eggs.

As (Y/n) waited for her snack to cook, she resumed scrolling through her phone; even smiling at all of the funny memes that she came across, and also leaving likes on posts that she found worthy of them.

However, the deeper that she got into scrolling through her phone, the more that she could feel her chest tightening up. And before she knew it, she was having a harder time breathing. It wasn’t that she was hyperventilating, but every inhale made her feel like her chest got even tighter than before— to the point where her heart had also began beating rapidly in an onslaught of panic.

She shook her head then, trying to brush the oncoming panic attack off, but having no such luck as even her hands began to shake. It made holding her phone difficult, so she set it back down on the counter and got up from her seat.

With her heart practically hammering inside her chest, she tried to pace around the kitchen in an effort to walk it off. She had even taken to leaning back against the counter and bouncing her right leg, all to offset the panic that was setting in inside her.

It was scaring her to no end, because she didn’t even know why she was panicking. She didn’t know what was off, yet her body was telling her that something was incredibly wrong.

(Y/n) had been going through the same ordeals for years now, yet they didn’t let up. They got better, especially after she met Kyōjurō, but they never stopped— and they always happened at random intervals.

No matter how hard she tried to take her attention away from her own panic, though, her mind always came back to it. Even telling herself to watch the eggs didn’t do anything for her.

Hell, even her hunger had dissipated when her panic set in.

Her feet then began carrying her from end to end of the kitchen, while she hugged herself and told herself that everything was going to be fine; that nothing was wrong. Yet, the more that she tried to comfort herself to make it all go away, the worse that her feelings got; to the point where she could feel tears pricking the backs of her eyes.

Before she could help it, she had already shut off the stove and turned off the timer on her phone; not wanting to bother with the eggs anymore.

And with gritted teeth, she sat back down in her seat and began tapping her fingers against her arms— as she had also returned to hugging herself.

But when even her pseudo-Butterfly Hug was not enough to calm her down, she opened her mouth and let out a shaky cry. “K-Kyō.”

It was so quiet at first that she knew it wouldn’t wake her husband up. So, she tried once more; louder, that time.

“Kyō!” And with that call for his name came a sob as well, just as her tears began falling from her eyes. “Kyōjurō!”

More and more tears streamed down her face then, as she couldn’t hold back the torrential downpour of her own emotions. She didn’t even know what she felt anymore— fear, sadness, apprehension— just that her heart was still beating like crazy, and that her entire body was so shaky and weak.

“Kyō!” (Y/n) called out once more, swallowing past her tears and almost sighing in relief when she heard the sound of covers being quickly thrown off, before being followed by the sound of feet rapidly thumping against the floor.

“What is it, ba-” The young man couldn’t even finish his question, as the sight of his wife pathetically trying to comfort herself while crying in the kitchen greeted him. “Baby, what happened?”

All the sleep was wiped out from his system then, making him frown as he closed the distance between them. And slowly, he stood between her thighs, as he wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around her— cuddling her right against his chest, and perching his chin against the top of her head, so that she would feel even more secure in his arms.

Judging by the shakiness of her body alone, he didn’t even need to ask further. (Y/n)’s panic attacks were something that went hand in hand with her anxiety issues, and he had been fully prepared to deal with them when they’d met— even after she’d tried to push him away, because she didn’t want to subject him to something that she thought was so unsightly and pathetic.

It was never pathetic to Kyōjurō. In fact, it made him want to stay beside her all the more, because he never wanted to let her suffer all alone.

“I don’t know, Kyō. I don’t know what’s wrong,” (Y/n) answered through her tears, sounding so desperate and defeated— even to her own ears— which broke her husband’s heart a little, since he knew that there were only very few things that he could do for her.

One was to hug her like he already was doing; which she slowly began to return, with her hands snaking up his back and clinging tightly to his shirt— in an effort to offset the shakiness in them. And the other was to try and soothe her with his words.

They almost always seemed to work, and he prayed that he would manage to calm her down with them that time— as he really hated the thought of her hurting in any way.

“It’s going to be okay, my love. You’re safe; I’m here to keep you safe,” Kyōjurō whispered softly; his normally loud tone simmering down to something that was akin to a soft melody against (Y/n)’s ears.

And when he started running his fingers through her hair, she could feel her heart beginning to slow down from the breathtaking pace that it had taken on earlier.

“I’m sorry...” The young woman whispered, sounding muffled and barely perceptible with her lips pressed against her husband’s chest.

But Kyōjurō heard her loud and clear, what with the thick silence that surrounded them. It made his chest tighten up with sadness, because he didn’t like it when his wife apologized to him for things that weren’t her fault. No one in the world had ever asked for a mental health issue, so he didn’t want her apologizing for that.

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” He then pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, as if to punctuate his words. “I’ll always be here for you, okay? I’m never going to leave you; ever. You’re the most important person in the world to me.”

More tears began falling from (Y/n)’s eyes at that, yet her hold on Kyōjurō only tightened even more; which had the blond smiling affectionately, despite her silence. She might not have responded to him verbally, but it was evident in the way that she clung to him— as if he were her only lifeline— as well as the way that she kept pressing her lips against his chest, that she appreciated his words, and returned them wholeheartedly.

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #kimetsu rengoku #jen writes

[mymymadeline]

•Friendly Dark

gif by: @chrishemsworht​​

pairing: Hallmark Christmas Movie Au! Poe Dameron x Reader 

word count: 6.9k+ words 

summary: 

warnings: alcohol cw

Adore You series: 01, 02, 03, 04, ... - AO3

Even though you’re on vacation, you are far from exempt from your work. And nothing is proving that more than the headache you nurse as you continue pouring over document after document on your tablet. Numbers and figures, charts and graphs, blueprints and sketches, even interviews and gossip articles – they’re all blending together after staring at the screen for what’s likely been hours. 

Snoke’s call the night before was not a social one – they never are. He was going on about some acquisition Kylo’s been trying to make for the past few months, and apparently, he was missing something crucial, which is where you usually come in. The two of you have always been a team for a reason. He was more of the passion and ideas, whereas you were better with relations and logistics. 

Snoke had immediately sent over hundreds of digital files for you to go through and find… well something. Most likely some kind of professional blackmail. Some kind of small violation or incident that would really be such a shame if it came to the media's attention. You know, the usual. 

So far, everything they’ve done is up to code, as far as you can tell. But Snoke won’t take no for an answer. He’d have your head for it. So you continue looking through page after page, searching for some dirt, searching for any kind of upper hand on the competition. 

After coming back in that night while on the phone with Snoke, you blew past your parents and went straight up to your room, where you’ve been for almost the entirety of this Sunday. You couldn’t even face them after that absolute embarrassment of an evening. And though this morning you did stalk around the house if only to get a thing or two to eat, you pointedly ignored your mother, only giving your father a small silent nod of acknowledgment. 

Stealing away to your room for a full day of silent, frustrating work was not exactly your idea of a fun vacation back home, but neither was last night. Just the thought of running into Poe again makes you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and stress. He probably thinks you’re an idiot now. Probably never wants to see you again. And who could blame him if he did? 

If you were a different woman, you’d probably have shed a few embarrassed tears in the solitude of your room, but that wasn’t you. Not anymore. So you rub your eyes once again, and get back to work.

You’re back to staring at a tax filing by the company’s CEO from seventeen years ago when a notification pops up at the top of your screen.

Unknown Number

hey! its rose! i got ur number from when you called the shop lol hope thats not creepy

i was wondering if ur busy tonight? i was thinking of getting drinks w/ some friends at Kanata’s! wanna come? i can pick u up since ur ride is chopped ;)

You blink back at the notification. Drinks? At Kanata’s? 

You can’t remember the last time you actually went out with a group of friends, especially for fun. Taking clients you and Kylo were wooing out to dinner was a common occurrence. But fun? They were never.

Another wave of anxiety washes over you. Friends? Who were these friends? Would they like you? Did you know them? Maybe it would be better to just stay and finish your work. Nothing could go wrong if you did that.

You open the message, absolutely ready to type an excuse why you can’t come, when there’s a gentle knock at your door. You already recognize it as your mother by the way she knocks even before she calls out gently. 

“Love? You in there?”

“I’m here.” You leave your voice flat and emotionless. You need her to know you’re still mad.

“Can… Can I come in?” 

‘No’ dances on the tip of your tongue for a strong moment, but the uncertainty in her soft voice gives you pause. 

“...Okay.”

The door clicks open slowly and your mother pokes her head in, a small, nervous smile affecting her features. You only look at her blankly from your nest of blankets and pillows that have been on your bed since high school.

She steps more fully into the room, closing the door behind her most of the way. She leaves it open just a little, giving the both of you some air to breathe, but also, in a way, making sure not to lock herself in a cage with a wounded animal. 

And she approaches you like one–cautious, hands visible and apologetic. You huff, curled up in the corner of your bed, and try to look anywhere but at her. But she’s hard to avoid as she sits gently on the far edge of your bed and pulls her hands into her lap, looking down and rolling them over one another contemplatively. You two sit like this for a moment, simmering in the uncomfortable tension, but like hell you’re the one with anything to apologize for. 

She lets out a deep sigh. “I’m… so, so sorry… about my behavior last night. I suppose I just… wasn’t handling your absence as well as I thought I was.”

Despite the small sorrow your heart finds at her small and broken tone, the anger–rage even– that has been boiling since the night before claws desperately to be let out. You breathe deeply, and do your best to keep it still in its place. But that doesn’t exclude the fury that seeps into your quiet voice, as you level your gaze with hers.

“Mom, that was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in my entire professional career. I need you to know this.”

She nods understandingly and looks back to her fiddling hands. “Yes. I know. And I couldn’t be sorry enough. I realized...I– I don’t know how to be your mother anymore.” You blink at this. A terrible lurch in your gut crawls into your throat at the sight of the tears silently beginning their descent down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do for you when you're a grown woman who’s accomplished so much on her own without me. I miss you, but I’m not really sure I know you anymore.”

She looks up suddenly at you, her face twisted with grief and regret.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I-”

You stop her, shaking your head, swallowing the lump in your throat, willing the sudden strange wetness in your eyes away. Your voice comes out more choked up than you wish. But whatever wall was up is quickly crumbling away.

“No… Mom, I think I understand.” You look down at your own hands now, picking at your nails nervously, silently discovering the lineage of this habit of yours. You smile sadly at the thought. “I feel that way too sometimes… about myself.”

“Oh, love.” Your mother reaches out, placing her hand on your foot, the only part of you she can reach, and squeezes it gently. She smiles sweetly, her eyes and cheeks still wet, though she’s wiped away the tears.

“You’re not my little girl anymore… but you’re still my daughter, and I’ll love you no matter what.”

You nod, suppressing a sniff as you rub at your nose. She squeezes your foot one more time before standing up and making her way back to the door. She reaches for the handle when you call out. 

“I love you, Mom.”

The smile she sends you is genuine, heartfelt, and warming to your core. It makes you realize how much you truly missed your mother, even if she had her difficulties. “I love you too, girlie.”

With that, she closes the door, leaving you alone with your tablet and the unanswered message. But you know your response now. 

Me

Sounds fun! Let me know what time. I’d love to come, if you’ll have me.

You begin entering Rose’s information into your contacts and her response is almost immediate.

Rose Tico

duuuh! ill get u at like 8ish? and we’ll meet them there! cant wait!

You look down at the message and can’t help but feel a little more at home. 

______________

 You run a hand through your hair, adjusting your outfit for the hundredth time. You’ve opted for something more casual tonight. Something a little more friendly, approachable. You suddenly frown at your reflection. You don’t need these people’s approval. Well, no. But it wouldn’t be so bad to be friendly for once would it?

The two voices in your head continue to battle it out, leaving you frozen in the mirror, desperately trying to understand how you feel in this moment. Anxious? Perhaps. Regretful of accepting this invitation? Maybe. 

Your phone chirps, lighting up on your desk. Glancing over, you see it’s Rose. You don’t need to read it to know it’s just her announcing her arrival, but you pick it up anyway, settling down on your bed and slipping on your shoes as you open the message.

Rose Tico

here!!! right in front lol

Me

One moment!

You lace up your boots quickly, practically sprinting out of your room and down the stairs, snatching up your long coat on the way. 

“I’m headed out, I won’t be back until you guys are already in bed. So, goodnight.”

You call out to the living room as you pull on the coat, your parents turning from their seats on the couch, eyeing you with interest.

“And where are you going this late, young lady?” Your father questions sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

“Out with friends,” you rush, already halfway out the door, spotting Rose in her car and giving a small wave. “Love you, bye!”

Half-jogging down the steps, you cross quickly but cautiously through the snow-laden yard, careful not to slip. As you close the gate behind you, Rose is already opening the passenger door from the inside, beckoning you in.

“Get inside, it’s freezing!”

You allow yourself a small laugh and slide into the seat next to her. Pulling the door closed, you look around, taking in the space of the car, as she starts it back up and pulls away from the curb. 

Like most things in The Base, it’s worn and old, peeling and chafed, likely held together with duct tape and love. But despite all of its imperfections, it’s not only comfortable, it’s cozy. It’s warm and personal, every dent containing a story, every mile meaningful. 

You can’t help but think back to the chill rigid efficiency of your TIE. Sure, it gets the job done, and is mighty stylish while it does so, but you’ve never felt like it was yours. Never felt anything but cool indifference for its sleek lines and dark exterior. 

“So, you’re looking snazzy tonight.” Rose pulls you out of your thoughts with her cheery tone. 

You look down at your outfit, once again tugging at its hems. 

“Am I? I was actually trying to dress down.”

She laughs at that. “You think that’s dressing down? No way, this is dressing down.” She takes one hand off the wheel, gesturing at her own attire: A brown button-up with a sewn name tag and a pair of dark cargo pants. Likely the uniform she wore to work today. Her cool attitude and smooth voice put you at ease, and you can feel your guard begin to lower. 

“I like this on you,” you quietly praise. You pick at your nails, continuing, “Don’t take this the wrong way, please, but… I admire that you can wear clothes like that and feel comfortable. I feel like I have to dress up all the time, no matter what. I don’t know… I- Nevermind.”

You look up at Rose and she pulls her eyes away from the road for a moment to give you a meaningful look. She nods sympathetically, her previous lightness replaced by understanding. She realizes the weight of this seemingly minor admission.

“I get it, I do.” She gives you a soothing smile. “I just hope you can feel comfortable here… with us. We like having you back, even if just for a moment.”

Still smiling, she turns back to the wheel with a light shrug. “Plus, this isn’t Canto Bight. You’ll look great no matter what.”

You groan, half sardonic, half-serious. “Oh, please don’t remind me. You know, I thought I was a vulture, but those people,” you give an audible shiver. “They’re something else.”

Rose laughs melodically. “Oh, do tell.”

______________

 The ride to the bar is short, the car only really needed for warmth, but the company is appreciated. Rose laughs along to your story of once attempting to cover for Kylo’s drunken rage in front of investors, and while it was a very unamusing situation at the time, you find yourself chuckling with her. 

“Well, that’s why we don’t let him have Bespin Fizzes anymore.”

Rose giggles at that, before piping up in her seat a little. “There it is!”

The bar comes into view just ahead, a familiar neon sign reading Kanata’s hanging overhead a small brick building. The parking lot is compact, but practically full, reminding you just how small the town is, as Kanata’s is the only real bar in the whole Base, and as such, is the town’s favorite happy hour hangout. 

She leans up the dashboard, pointing to an old, grey, junky Corellian that’s as familiar to the town as the bar. 

“There’s the Falcon,” she points out with a smile, though you don’t need her to tell which car it is. “They’re here.”

You nod, smiling at the old hunk of junk fondly, before suddenly realizing what the Falcon’s presence implies. She pulls up to the spot next to it as you turn to her.

“Wait, we’re getting drinks with Han? ” You try not to sound upset, only curious, but Rose reads your panic easily. 

“No, silly,” she giggles, and seems to dodge the question, stepping out of the car. You quickly follow behind, stepping out into the chill night air. Closing the doors, Rose rounds the car and you trail next to her, past the Falcon and towards the bar's entrance. She continues her explanation without you having to ask. 

“About five years ago, Han gave the Falcon away.”

“He gave it away? Why would he do that? To who?” 

She pushes open the door, leading you into the dimly lit bar, which you only now realize with its unfamiliar interior, that you never stuck around to be old enough to actually enter it. The lights are low, yellow and red, but not unwelcoming, in fact creating a warm atmosphere. It’s brightest around the bar itself, with neon and string lights, as patrons sit on the stools, chatting over the low playing jukebox on the far side of the room. Near it are a couple of pool tables, busy with players in the middle of games. A few locals drink in booths against the walls, however Rose leads you towards the high tables and stools in the middle of the room. You’re scanning the bar for anyone you recognize when you finally see where she’s leading you– to the only couple occupying the tables, and your heart drops into your stomach as your fight or flight instinct kicks in. 

“To them!” Rose points but once again you don’t need her helpful hand to see what you need to.

At the table is a girl you don’t recognize with a sweet face and dark hair, but it’s the familiar face next to her that makes you want to run.

Finn, your old classmate, but more importantly your old employee, sits smiling and laughing, casual as anything. You knew Finn left First Order – on very bad terms, one would be remiss to forget – after a fateful trip home for somewhere less cutthroat and competitive, but you thought that meant somewhere like Alderaan. You didn’t think he’d come back, and you certainly didn’t think you’d actually see him here.  

Rose doesn’t notice your hesitation, continuing to pull you forward and calling out to her friends. She catches their attention, waving, and you brace for the moment of impact. 

Finn is going to be mad that you’re here. He’s going to be furious. He’s going to stand up and yell at Rose about how awful of a person you are and make sure nobody in this town will even so much as smile at you ever again. He’s going to laugh in your face and tell you to go back to Coruscant and you’ll do it because you’re so deeply embarrassed.

The girl turns first, smiling and waving back at Rose. She grins brightly at you as well, obviously unfamiliar but still friendly. Finn turns second with an easy expression, glancing at you briefly before doing a double-take. His face falls, but not into anger like you expect. It drops to confusion, like he’s making sure it’s you, which then turns into half-smug disbelief, a bewildered smile taking over his features. 

Finn speaks first. “No-freaking-way.”

Tension still wracks your body as he steps off the stool, meeting you and Rose in front of the table. Rose looks between the two of you before dropping your hand and covering her eyes.

“Oh my God, I totally forgot about the whole…” She looks to you apologetically, not towards Finn, which confuses you. “I’m so sorry I forgot to say.”

“No, I- it’s okay. I just hope I’m not intruding.” It seems that this town just loves to leave you at a loss for words.

Finn laughs, seemingly completely at ease. “Not unless you’re here to talk about work. Or to try to win me back.”

“God, no. Not that we wouldn’t love to have you back but,” you glance quickly at the friendly girl still sitting at the table, obviously confused. “I understand that you’re much happier here.”

“That I am.”

“Then that’s all I care about.”

Rose absolutely buzzes with energy at the exchange. “Yay! So we’re all still friends and everything?” Her hands are clasped and her hopeful eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you. 

You turn your gaze back to Finn, hoping that you look as genuine as he does. “I hope so.”

“I don’t see any reason why not,” He smiles warmly at you, offering his hand. “Besides, you weren’t exactly the one that left me with a bad taste in my mouth.”

You take his hand easily, and just barely manage to quell your surprise when he uses it to tug you into a warm hug. The recent bombardment of hugs you’ve received in the past few days is the only thing that gets your arms moving properly, wrapping loosely around Finn for a moment before you part. 

As you pull back, an awkwardness comes to hang in the air as a silence settles between the four of you. You suddenly remember the girl at the table seemingly the same moment that Finn does. He pipes up, turning towards her and half leading you to the table where they were sitting. 

“Right, uh, Rey, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine.” 

You extend a hand and introduce yourself to the woman, Rey, and she lets out an awkward laugh as she takes it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was a bit, erm, hesitant to intrude on the moment. Seems like there’s a lot of history going on here.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Finn laughs before his nose scrunches up in thought. “Actually, you might have some idea. You know the place I used to work before we met?”

Rey’s face twists in disgust. “You mean that awful tech company? God, you couldn’t stop talking about how awful it was for almost a year. Must’ve been terrible. Did you work there too?” 

She looks to you as your cheeks heat up and you can't help the grimace that creeps into your expression. “I actually still do.” 

Finn opens his mouth but Rey beats him to it. “Oh no, that must be awful. What do you do? Get yelled at all day by some tall blonde woman like Finn did?” She chuckles at her own joke, but she’s the only one. Finn and Rose look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Probably at the bar. With strong drinks. Yet, you feel a chill indifference wash over you. The one you feel whenever you walk through the doors of the First Order offices and meetings. 

“Actually I’m the COO.”

Rey’s jaw slackens with the shock, mouth starting and stopping any words she attempts to get out. “I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” Finn has his head fully in his hands and Rose looks like she might die. But you smile softly.

“It’s okay. I’ve heard far worse before. From people whose opinions were far more important.”

The urge to storm out tugs at your gut but your feet stay planted. It’s strange. You’re not quite sure what emotion it is that you’re feeling exactly. There’s anger, but it’s the blow to your pride that fuels it. There’s certainly embarrassment. Mostly, you realize it’s guilt. Guilt that the company you worked so hard to build has hurt people - people that you care about. You knew it happened, probably every day, probably right at this moment, but being faced with the conversations that people must be having behind your back… It hurts. It hurts in many directions. 

“Drinks!” Rose chirps loudly, desperate to break the tension. “I’ll go get us some drinks!”

She spins on a dime and immediately heads towards the bar. Looking between you and Rey, Finn gulps. “She’ll probably need some… help with those…” He’s immediately out of his chair and trailing behind Rose. 

Rey sits quietly, a thoughtful look on her face as you finally take a seat on the stool across from her. The silence hangs for a moment as the jukebox croons quietly in the background. 

“I really didn’t mean it that way,” Rey starts quietly. “It’s just…” She leans towards you, elbows resting in front of her on the table. Her eyes are earnest, kindness pouring forth. “Finn was miserable when we met in Jakku. Work was stressing him out to no end, but mostly… he felt like he was hurting people. He had a stable and successful job but… what did it cost him? All he ever wanted to do was help people.” She sighs, and a small smile tugs at her lips. “I like to think I helped him, but really, he knew all along what he had to do. I’m so grateful that we’re both here now, working with the kids, helping people where it feels like it really matters. I can’t speak for you, but it sounds like you’re proud of your company, and I’m glad but… It just wasn’t right for Finn. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

You’re momentarily stunned by her small speech. Not just the words but her honesty. You can tell from the tone of her voice just how much she cares for Finn and how much she believes in their cause. You find a small stain on the table, gazing at it intensely in thought. You’ve just wanted to help people too, all your life, but making something of yourself always came first it seemed. You told yourself you were helping people, creating new things that made so many people’s lives easier, donating intensely to charities, but how many people were you hurting on the way? How many times can you tell yourself that some eggs must be cracked to make an omelette? How many people have you screwed over, blackmailed, and outright stolen from? How many shady people have you bought from or sold to? How many things have you ignored or swept under the carpet just to keep business running as usual?

“If it helps… Finn always spoke highly of you.” 

You look up as Rey draws you out of your thoughts, something she obviously picks up on going by her smile. 

“Well… He’s a good man. A good friend before he was an employee… I didn’t mean what I said either - about your opinion not mattering. That’s not true, I just…” You trail off, but look up to find comfort and forgiveness in her warm expression. You give her a small genuine smile of your own. “Maybe we should just start over.”

You extend a hand, introducing yourself and she does the same, laughing lightly as she does so. At that moment, Rose and Finn come shuffling over, each balancing a tray with a few colorful drinks and rounds of shots. Placing the trays on the table, Finn eyes your smiles and parting hands. 

“Are you guys… Is everything good now?”

You nod, laughing. “Yes, I think we just got off on the wrong foot.”

“And we’re just here to have a good time and hang out - no work talk.” Rey winks at Finn. He lets out a hearty laugh, clapping you two on the back. 

“Oh, you two are good.”

“Actually, there’s one more thing,” Rose cuts in. She looks absolutely tickled pink, poorly suppressing her roguish grin. Finn and Rey raise an eyebrow in unison, seemingly used to this behavior. 

Rose giggles, “I invited Poe!” 

You instantly feel your heart rate pick up and a gentle heat rise in your cheeks, but it seems your the only one excited about this development. Rey only sighs with an unamused laugh. Rolling his eyes, Finn shakes his head, “That’s not exactly a surprise.” He turns to you. “She invites him out every time. And every time he says no. ‘Too busy.’”

“He never just relaxes,” Rey chimes in. “We’re constantly inviting him out, even inviting ourselves into the shop occasionally, but he’s just so dedicated to his work. It’d be admirable if it wasn’t so annoying.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Rose waves her hands around, as if attempting to dispel the negative comments in the air before they reach you. “BUT… I told him a certain special someone was gonna be here!” 

Finn and Rey both turn to you, Rey holding an expression of curiosity and Finn looking at you with new eyes, the gears turning almost visibly in his head. Did she mean you? Everyone seems to be looking at you expectantly so… she must be. Sure, Poe seems to like you well enough but… This is behavior that seems to have been going on for years. How could your presence possibly change that?

“Wh- Me?” You ask, turning to Rose at a sudden loss for words. “Why- What makes me special?”

Rose rolls her eyes so hard her head can’t help but follow. “You are so oblivious. And so special.”

Finn nods, with a grin you can only describe as ‘shit-eating.’ 

“Of course.” He bites his lip deviously. “This is gonna be so fun.”

“Really wha-”

You’re cut off by the sound of the blowing snow and wind as the door creaks open behind you. As if on cue, each of your heads swivel to the entrance to see the door swinging shut behind Poe shaking the snowflakes out of his hair, cheeks ruddy from the outside cold. He looks up from tugging his gloves off to see the four of you gawking at him. If he can tell he just walked in on a discussion of himself, he doesn’t show it. He practically beams at the four of you, but lets his eyes settle on yours.

“Hey guys.”

“This is gonna be so fun,” You hear Finn whisper behind you. 

You fail miserably at trying to hide your smile, but you know it’s for the best. 

______________

 “God, I know it’s embarrassing but... that’s so funny.” Rey chuckles with red cheeks, thoroughly amused.

“But it’s so embarrassing,” You exclaim, a little louder than you’re usually comfortable with but the drinks you’ve been slowly consuming for the past two hours have loosened your tongue just a bit. 

Finn continues to shake his head in laughter. “I do love your mom, though. I wanna thank her for that one. A proper Base welcome.”

“C’mon, it really wasn’t so bad,” Poe laughs. 

Once he’d arrived, everyone made quick work of getting him a drink and dragging over a stool, planting him firmly and snuggly between you and Rose. Small pleasantries and catching up eventually turned into you and Poe recounting the previous night's dinner and conversation at the strong behest of the rest of the group. It mostly consisted of you complaining and apologizing to Poe and him simply laughing it off, attempting to placate your worries. Finn, Rey, and Rose simply watched in entertainment, soaking up every juicy detail. 

“Really, you have to stop beating yourself up about it. You’ll drive yourself insane.” Poe places a hand on your shoulder, sending a little shiver of electricity through your body that you desperately try to curb. You look down at his hand on your shoulder and are struck with the desire to see it as often as possible. Meeting his eyes, they are warm and kind and cause you to immediately lose whatever it was you were going to just say. You are now very aware of just how buzzed you are. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” You give him a small smile and he accepts it readily, his own smile growing. Over your shoulder, Finn must catch his eye because he swiftly turns his head back to his drink on the table and clears his throat. His hand gives you a small pat and quickly retreats back to his lap. His hand makes a loose fist and you miss its warmth. 

“Well,” Rose starts. “It’s getting late and I am so beat. I should get going.” 

Rose gives a meaningful glance at Finn and Rey, “Isn’t it a school night? You guys should get going too. Don’t want to have to show a video tomorrow.”

Finn’s eyes widen a bit and Rey nods fervently. 

“Yes, absolutely. You’re so right, Rose.” Finn begins standing up from his stool. “C’mon, Rey, we should be off.”

Those fucking conspirators. You know you should be grateful - they’re trying very hard to set you up with your high school crush - but all you can feel is panic. You’re an expert at talking to people, from brokering deals to conducting yourself in interviews and even giving presentations, you’ve trained and practiced in the art of discussion. But for some reason, just being in the same room as Poe makes your brain short circuit. Your mind constantly pulls back and forth whether to close off and shut him out or loosen up and actually let him in. It’s barely been three days but it feels like so much longer. And that’s terrifying.

“Uh-Wh- Are you guys okay to drive?” You sputter.

Finn sends you a reassuring smile as he grabs Rey by the shoulders, “Rey might not be in any state to drive, but I’m totally fine. I’ve had maybe two drinks in the past couple hours. Don’t worry.” 

Rose is off her stool too, gathering her coat. “Could you maybe drop me off too? I’d just walk but it’s so damn cold.”

“No problem, Rose.”

“What about me? I’m supposed to walk then?” You interject, flustered. “Rose, you drove me here.”

Rose gives an exaggerated look of cluelessness, giving you a shrug before looking over at Poe.

Breaking his momentary silence, Poe gives you a nod. “Yeah, I can give you a ride if you want.” 

You can only nod along. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you.”

Rose lets out a little squeal, scrambling over to give you a kiss on the cheek and skip out the door, calling out goodbyes over her shoulder. You can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh along with Finn and Rey, both of them giving you and Poe sidehugs before taking their exit as well. 

As the doors swing shut and the silence between you settles, you glance around at the bar. There are about half as many people as there were a few hours ago but the place doesn’t feel empty by any means. The few patrons still mill about, some playing pool, some chatting at the bar. You sigh contently at the sight, something Poe catches as he watches you.

“Good to be home?”

You look over, momentarily studying his handsome features in the warm lights as you try to figure out how to answer his question. 

“I don’t know. Like I said before, it’s not really home. And yet it is.”

He nods, thinking for a second. “But are you happy to be here?”

You eye him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m starting to be.”

“Well, I’ll drink to that.” He grins, holding up his bottle. You meet his with your own, both taking a swig with a smile.

As you settle your drinks back on the table, Poe leans over with a lowered voice. Your pulse thrums in your veins. “You know, I actually had a great time last night, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

You sigh with chagrin, momentarily closing your eyes to rub at the spot between your brows. 

“Well, I’m glad you had so much fun at my expense.” 

Poe leans away, shutting his eyes in his own embarrassment. 

“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.”

You chuckle lightly, a sound that gets Poe to open one eye before breaking into a smile, laughing with you. He leans in again, still smiling but a serious tone overtakes him.

“I really understand if you don’t want to talk about it but… What was your mother talking about… with Ben?”

You feel like a bucket of water has been dumped on you, ruining the easy-going mood you’d let slowly wash over you for the past few hours, but when you look at him, you can’t help but want to tell him everything.

“I just… I’ve only heard bits and pieces about what happened after you graduated. You really… disappeared.”

“Not disappeared,” you say quietly, with grit in your voice. “They just started paying attention to me somewhere else.”

“I paid attention to you,” Poe murmurs. When you catch his eye, he corrects himself. “I mean, we all did.”

You smile sadly, “Yeah, this is different.”

Poe gently knocks your shoulder with his, making you let out a snicker. Glancing over, Poe levels you with a genuine look, with soft eyes and a smile. “I get the feeling you don’t talk about your life often. So, tell me about it.”

He’s right. You never talk about your life, you certainly never regale your story to whoever asks. Doing that requires you to be vulnerable, it requires self-reflection and introspection. It requires you to think about things that you’ve long locked away inside. But… 

“Well, I’m not sure how well you remember, or if you ever noticed but… no one ever really talked to me. Then one day, Ben did. No one ever really talked to him either, so we made a fast pair. He was odd... but he was a real friend to me. I wouldn’t have traded that for anything.”

Poe nods understandably, encouraging you to keep going. 

“We decided to stick together. We got into Imperial University together and got out as quickly as we could. Neither of us… We couldn’t stay here, not with what we planned on doing with our lives. This town… it just wasn’t for us.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot. I get that, too.” Poe takes a drink.

“You do?”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another time. Keep going.”

“We learned at school that we worked really well together. Our mentor Snoke realized that, too. He led us, taught us, molded us. He helped us build our company, First Order Tech. He was our first investor, he still sits on the board of directors. Kylo… Ben may be the CEO, but Snoke is still in charge of both of us to this day. It’s our company, we created it from the ground up but… We still bow to him.”

You shake your head. Time for the hard part. Might as well get it out quick and easy.

“Somewhere along the way… I don’t know if it was love. It wasn’t love how it should be - I can tell you that. But, Ben and I… were together. And then he proposed. I don’t think it was because he wanted to. I think he just thought… he was supposed to. Just the natural progression of our lives, I guess.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until the teardrops reach your chin, where they hang heavily before dropping onto your lap. You quickly wipe them away, as Poe once again places a hand on your back, but this time it stays there, his thumb rubbing comfortably back and forth.

“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

“I just,” You sniffle, wiping your nose. Way to break down just as he was warming up to you, kiddo. “I’ve never talked about this before, not really. I don’t even think I’ve ever cried over this before.”

“Anyway, I somehow became lucid enough to call it off a few months before the wedding.” 

You sniff wetly and press the backs of your hands to your eyes, your makeup no doubt ruined by now. Poe’s thumb keeps its motion.

“I just wanted it so bad,” Your voice cracks. The lump that had been caught in your throat breaks free in the form of a sob. “I let myself be blind because I…”

Your hands are shaking and tears run freely down your face.

“I wanted to be loved. And I thought that’s how I would get it. But I woke up.” 

You drop your hands onto the table, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You clench your fists and your voice no longer trembles.

“And I’m glad I did. We’re both better people for it.”

Only now do you chance a look at Poe. You had kept your gaze down, too scared to find what his expression might be, too scared to read his thoughts on his face. But his hand had stayed planted, comforting you. That had to mean something, right?

Looking up, you see only his warm gaze that had assured you deeply enough to get you talking in the first place. It carries a sadness, a kind of worry in the crease between his slightly upturned brows. But you find no disgust. No pity. 

“I wish I knew what to say.”

You chuckle wetly, “You don’t have to say anything. I understand that it’s a lot.”

His hand makes a broad stroke across your back as he leans in once again. 

“There’s actually a lot of things I want to say, but I’m sure you’d hate all of them considering they all sound like condescending things your mom has probably said to you over the years.”

A genuine laugh bubbles out of you at this, a bright smile pulling up your wet mascara stained cheeks. Seeing this, Poe can’t help a smile of his own.

“Things like ‘you’re so brave’ and ‘you poor thing’?” You giggle.

He chuckles, “Yeah something like that, the usuals.”

“Well thank you for sparing me.”

“No problem.” He pauses for a moment. “But really, thank you for telling me.”

He sounds like he means it.

“Thank you for listening, Poe.”

And so do you.

You sit like that just for a moment, gazing at each other. You take in the small details, admiring the creases around his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the curls in his hair. He seems to be taking you in as well, his eyes flickering across your features. You see them linger on the stains of your cheeks, turning your head away subconsciously. 

“Ready to go?” He asks softly. 

You smile and nod, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

You wobble just a bit as you get up from your seat, but Poe’s hand is still there to steady you. It stays there as you walk to the door. Stepping out into the cold, you instinctively huddle against him, a move he readily accepts as you walk.

“I’m not always a sad drunk, I promise.”

You feel the rumble of his chest as he laughs gently at your small joke.

“Don’t worry. I believe you.”

The ride is comfortably silent, except for the low hum of the radio as you drive. Pulling up to your house, you want to say something, do something, to thank him for what he did tonight. For driving you home, for listening to you and comforting you as you practically sobbed in his arms, for coming to the bar at all, supposedly just because you were there. 

But you don’t do anything.

“I’ll see you around,” is all you say. 

You hear him swallow as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll see you.”

When you finally slink upstairs and collapse in your bed, you still feel the phantom touch of Poe’s hand across your back. 

-

notes: Whew! Thank you SO much for reading and thanks to all the people who stuck around! It’s been such a long and hard year and I hope everyone is doing okay. I’m determined to make this year great and I hope you all will join me!

I understand it’s been forever so if you’re on the taglist and would like to taken off it, hit me up and I’ll totally understand - and if you’re not on the taglist and would like to be leave a reply or send me a message! love you all <3

taglist: @ikbenplant @jamesdeerest​​ @fortheloveoflamp @operation-spot @asianravenpuff @whovianayesha @ultrunning @nowheredreamer @honestlyjustwow​ @badwolf-212 (for some reason i can never tag you properly :( ) 

#fic: Adore You #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #reader insert #star wars #mads fics #hallmark au #oscar isaac

[minghaocouture]

Fearless: Chapter 7

Pairing: Werewolf!Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire!Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol Au Warnings: Language, Mentions of violence WC: 3.6k AU Lore:   Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia​

A/N: Thank you guys so much for being patient with this chapter being release. I want to say I do no condone what happened and I wish PLEDIS would make some kind of statement despite how much time has passed. Despite this, I do want to be able to finish this story so I can properly move on in the timeline. I do really enjoy this chapter and it does have one of my favorite moments between Wonwoo and the reader that i’ve written so far. 

Chapter List: Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

“So...the body was a woman’s? Then it was probably who Minah saw.” 

You didn’t know why you had agreed to meet back up in the woods, but apparently making stupid decisions was just a part of your life now. Wonwoo nodded in agreement, watching as you paced.

“Then it has to be a stray. I talked to Minghao about it and he said it definitely wasn’t any of us. Everyone has been accounted for recently...well except for me? But he knows where I am so he knows it isn’t me.”

You were probably rambling, but you were concerned. If there was a stray out there then that meant a lot of people were in danger, not just humans. Sure humans fed you better, but there was nothing stopping you from feeding on wolves or even Fae, it just didn’t taste as good. 

“Well, we can always try and lure them out?” Wonwoo suggested, placing a hand on your shoulder to halt your pacing. The contact was immediately comforting, which you didn’t want to admit. You were still confused and conflicted about being on friendly terms with a wolf, so it was still something you were working on. 

“Are you saying to use Minah as bait?” 

“I mean, if we had both your Coven and my pack on our side then she’d be-”

A little harsher than you had intended, you shoved his hand away. “But that’s the thing. We don’t have either of them on our side, hell I’m still surprised that the both of us aren’t in big shit with the people who do know!” You retorted, placing a hand on your hip as you stared him down.

“It’s not like I can just walk up to my Venture and be all. ‘Oh hey Soonie, yeah I’ve been fraternizing with a werewolf for the past three days! But please forgive my treason because we just misunderstood them’!”

“Four days if you count the day you attacked me.” Wonwoo interrupted pointing at the scar that was still on his nose. You cast a small almost offended look towards him, hand drifting to gently rub your right arm. It was still a bit hurt but because of how Vampires healed, you didn’t need to keep it bandaged 

“To be fair, I’m the one that got hurt worse out of the two of us. You know how hard it is to leave a scar on a Vampire? And you somehow did it without even trying.” It was meant to be a small joke, considering that the two of you had basically buried the hatchet at this point in favor of stopping the feud between your groups. 

Despite the joking tone of your voice, you noticed the guilt that filled his eyes. Just like the night of the fight. You felt your chest tighten a bit. You didn’t know why but, you didn’t like that he was upset. Sure the two of you weren’t trying to kill each other anymore but you weren’t close either. This was a business friendship and nothing more. Once again rolling your eyes, you pulled your arm out of the sleeve of your jacket. 

“Don’t make that face, it’s fine see? We’re past it, and I’m not planning on attacking you again anytime soon...because I would definitely kick your ass if I did.” He didn’t laugh, which was pretty annoying to you. You were getting ready to comment on the fact that you were hilarious and he was being a stick in the mud, when he took a few steps towards you. His eyes were glued to the newly scars on your arm. A hand reaching out to gently graze the marred skin. Wonwoo was amazed at how fast such a deep wound had healed, must have been one of the perks of being a Vampire.

His hand was warm, almost too warm, especially compared to your usually cold skin. You noticed that you didn’t seem to hate the feeling, letting him trace the outline of the claw marks with his thumb. It was an oddly sensitive moment, and just a few days ago if a wolf had touched you like this you would have flipped out. Yet here you are now, letting him do as he pleased and you still weren’t sure why. He just had this kind of...aura that was pulling you in, and it was getting harder to stay angry or standoffish  when you were around him.

“Sorry about that. I really was just trying to push you away without hurting you.” He confessed, even back then he had been trying to protect you for whatever reason. Just like when he lied to his pack. Your mouth opened, ready to question his actions. Only for the moment to be ruined by the sound of crunching snow.

“Wonwoo! [Y/N]!” At the sound of the younger wolf’s voice, you quickly stepped away from Wonwoo (missing the feeling of his hand on your skin) and pulled your jacket back on. Vernon barreled into the moonlit clearing and stopped right next to the two of you, panting heavily as this was pretty far away from their cabin. 

“What?” Wonwoo immediately turned his attention towards Vernon, seeming almost irritated at the interruption. Vernon straightened himself, looking quite upset. 

“It’s Sana. She was attacked on the way home from work tonight!” Time seemed to stop. You knew that the stray could possibly attack the wolf pack directly but you hadn’t been expecting it. It seems you underestimated this stray. “And Seungcheol, he obviously thinks it’s your Coven. He’s pissed.” 

Irritated you let out a rather long string of quiet curses, pacing around the small clearing angrily. All soft feelings from before were gone. The two males looked on in confusion, shocked that you had let out such an outburst. Especially when previously you hadn’t cared at all if a wolf had gotten hurt.

“Fine. We’ll ask Minah to be our bait and we are catching this bastard to clear my Coven’s name. I’m going to talk to her and Minghao tonight and if she agrees we’re doing this shit tomorrow. If she doesn’t agree then we will figure something out, I don’t care if Soonyoung finds out. We are getting rid of this stray.” 

Wonwoo sighed, grabbing your shoulders to stop you from continuing your irritated march. His hand gently slid down your shoulders to rest on your biceps. He gave them a soft squeeze, attempting to comfort you. He regretted that a bit when he notice you wince slightly as he squeezed your previously injured arm.

“Hey, we need you calm okay? You go back and talk to Minghao and Minah, figure something out.” He began. Just from his touch you felt your temper turn from boiling rage to a smaller simmer. It was strange what he could do to you. “I’m...going to come out to my Pack tonight. I’ll explain our plan to our Alpha and hopefully it will calm him down. We’ll message each other so we know what’s going on.”

You knew this plan was risky, everything right now was. So you didn’t try to fight him on his decision, he was a big boy and knew what he was doing. Hopefully. Nodding in agreement, you grabbed his wrists and moved his hands away from you while putting a bit more distance between the two of you. Despite this, you didn’t let go of his hands.

“Just...be careful. Okay? If I don’t hear from you in like an hour I’m breaking into the cabin to make sure you didn’t die or something.” You declared, not really realizing that you had gently begun to rub circles on the insides of his wrists as you held them. This time, the male laughed. Which brought a smile to your face as you listened to the soothing bass tones of his voice. It was as oddly comforting as his hands had been. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I know you can’t enter private homes without permission.” He retorted. Earning a small smack from you after you let go of his hands. 

“I take it back, I might be fighting you again soon. Keep your eyes peeled wolf boy.” With that final verbal jab, you turned from him and said a quick goodbye to Vernon before once again running off into the night.

“Wow...you’re both super whipped. That was kinda gross to watch.” Vernon declared once you were out of earshot. If Wonwoo was being completely honest, he had almost completely forgotten that Vernon was there. 

He was probably never going to live this down. So he decided to ignore Vernon’s comment, turning to make his way back to the Cabin. Light tingles of anxiety filling his gut with every step he took.

“Come on, we need to get back to the house.” He wanted to at least offer Vernon an out. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, especially with Sana being attacked tonight. 

***

You rushed through the back door of the bar, ignoring the blaring music beyond the inner doors as you swung yourself onto the stairs, taking them two at a time. Turning onto the stairs quietly, as to not draw suspicion and went to the last room on the left of the hallway. It was a bit smaller than the other rooms but had a small bed in it, and quite a few still packed boxes. Which was kind of sad considering the Coven moved here about 4 years ago. 

Inside, Minghao sat on the small twin sized bed completely alone. Minah nowhere in sight. As you entered, he glanced over at you and raised an eyebrow. 

“Done with your wolf boy for the night?” 

“Where is Minah?” You questioned, taking a few steps towards him. Worry crept into your veins. If something had happened to Minah already, then your whole plan would fall apart. Minghao, swung his legs off the bed and walked over towards you. 

“She’s downstairs with Jun in the bar. We figured she would feel more comfortable if she were around people. It’d be pretty awkward if she had just been locked in this room with me.” He had a fair point, but he didn’t have to say it as if you were a moron. Though, to be fair, with all of the decisions you’ve made in the past few days...you being a moron wasn’t too far from the truth.

“What did your wolf say?”

“The body they found was a woman’s, and one of their pack got attacked tonight. Have you heard of anyone getting into it with a wolf tonight?” Minghao shook his head, obviously having heard nothing. And with the fight you had gotten into, there is no way anyone was going to keep that hidden. They had seen what kind of trouble you had gotten into, or at least you hoped no one was that stupid. 

“We, well I think it’s a stray. You know the one we’ve been seeing around town?” Minghao nodded, he hadn’t caused any trouble with the coven directly so you had been kind of leaving him alone. In hindsight, that had probably been a bad idea. Hence why you hadn’t mentioned that to Wonwoo. Shaking off the mild guilt at keeping that information hidden, you continue. 

“Wonwoo and I have a plan but it isn’t great. We were going to use Minah as bait. Lure him out and kill him if we can. We just need to get the okay from Minah.” That wasn’t something that the two of you had really agreed upon, but if he could get his Pack on your side, then you figured that none of them would have any issues with killing a Vampire.

The air was thick with tension. Minghao must have been irritated by what you had learned, but he kept an extraordinary good poker face. He let out a small sigh before pulling out his phone, who he was messaging you had no clue. When his attention returned to you, his poker face had fallen which left him with a rather irritated expression.

“I told Jun to send her back up here. I’ll help you as long as Jun and Soonyoung agree with this plan.” You weren’t too surprised by his actions. Minghao had admitted that he wanted the war to end, and he had been irritated that he wasn’t allowed to take out that Stray. He thought letting him stay in your territory had been a stupid decision, but because the Primus and Venture had agreed then there was nothing he could do to go against it. 

Sighing, you took a seat on the bed that Minghao had previously been on. Exhaustion was finally kicking in, you were running on maybe three hours of sleep? Frankly at this point you just wanted a nap. Minghao didn’t say anything if he noticed your mood. In fact he stayed silent until Minah entered the room, followed by...Jun.

Your chest felt like it was about to cave in when you saw Jun. You had managed to avoid him when you had dropped Minah off. He stood near the door, giving you and Minghao a rather expectant look. This only caused Minghao to sigh in irritation. 

“Jun, they’re going to need you at the bar. So you better head back down, this is going to take a while.” In his defense, Minghao did try to get Jun to leave. It was just such a poor attempt that it might as well have not mattered. 

“They’ll be fine. Honestly I trust Snow Angel more than I trust any of you alone at the bar.” You raised a brow at his words, looking up at him from your seat on the bed. He must be talking about the Winter Court girl, though she looks like she’d kick his ass before letting him call her Snow Angel. She definitely had more of an Ice Queen vibe.

“Besides, you two and Hyunjin have been hiding something. Minghao I know you’re part of the Inner Circle but that doesn’t mean you can keep information from the coven, especially if it’s dangerous enough that we have to house a human who needs protection.” To be fair, Jun was right. Minghao may have been in the Inner Circle but Junhui and Soonyoung were the Primus and Venture. Which made them higher ranked than Minghao and Chan, the other Inner Circle members. At this point it definitely hit you how much Minghao had stuck his neck out for you. Gave you a new found sense of gratitude for the male. You’d have to apologize to him later, since you had given him such a hard time before.

Minghao huffed lightly, running a hand through his black hair out of frustration. He flashed you a look and gave a nod, basically giving you permission to talk freely in front of Jun. You would have anyway but it was nice that he was letting it happen and wouldn’t get mad about it. You would still keep some details to yourself though. Standing, to give yourself more of a presence you began.

“So Junhui, long story short. You know that Stray we’ve been seeing? Well he’s been dumping human corpses into the forest. Last night, Minah saw a Stray while he was feeding last night, so she’s in danger because he saw her and might come after her next. Sooo the plan is we are going to lure the Stray out by using Minah as bait and then we kill him. Problem solved.” Omitting everything about the wolves, sure there were some plot holes in it but with luck he wouldn’t question it.

“How do you know about the bodies in the forest?” Apparently, Lady Luck decided to give a special ‘fuck you’ to you today. Of course he would ask about that, couldn’t just ignore it and ask later. Oh well, you weren’t some flower that was scared of what would happen. Okay that was a lie, you were scared shitless about what Junhui would say, Despite this, you were going to own it...this time. 

“I’ve been meeting with one of the wolves from the pack in the forest. He told me about it, said they thought it was us and would have continued to think that if I hadn’t told him it wasn’t.” Minah let out a small gasp, realizing that the two men you had been with must have been the wolves you were talking about.  You kept your eyes locked on Junhui’s and standing your ground. This was grounds for expulsion from the Coven, and your enforcer had allowed it to happen, so you weren’t expecting a happy reaction. 

Surprisingly, instead of flying off the handle like you had expected. He just sighed and rubbed his temples. Raising a brow, you glanced over at Minghao who also seemed a bit surprised at the lack of a total freak out.

“How can you be sure he wasn’t lying? Why and how did you even start talking to one of those Mutts anyway?” 

“He’s not a mutt.” The words escaped your lips before you even realized it. Hearing Jun talk about Wonwoo like that, well it pissed you off. It hadn’t been long since you, yourself had referred to Wonwoo as a Mutt. But that was wrong, and now you knew that. It wasn’t some magical change of heart or anything like that. Meeting Wonwoo, and later Vernon, it just kind of hit you that they were just people. They weren’t like the wolves who had killed you, in the same way that your Coven wasn’t like that Stray. They had morals too, and seemed to stand by them just as fiercely as your Coven did.

Jun seemed taken back by your words, confused at the sudden difference of opinion. He advanced towards you, a solemn frown on his face.

“[Y/N], I know you’re not a complete idiot. We’ve known each other for almost a century now. You can’t be stupid enough to care about a wolf of all things? Especially after..” He didn’t seem angry with you, he seemed concerned. As if he were the much smarter parent who was just concerned about his rebellious daughter. Unfortunately, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The insults coupled with your lack of sleep had your fist clenched by your sides as you advanced towards Junhui and cutting him off before he could continue.

“You know what, I’m getting pretty sick of you guys saying I’m stupid. Yeah I don’t always follow orders and it gets me into shit sometimes, and I’m reckless but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid Wen Junhui.” You didn’t yell, not now, but your voice carried a sharper tone to it than it usually would when speaking to Junhui. “I would assume that knowing me for almost a century, as you put it, you would have started to trust my decisions more. If you really think I’m that stupid then just kick me out of the Coven, why don’t you? I mean why not, if i’m stupid enough to get tricked by some damn wolf then i’m obviously not worth the Coven’s time.” 

He didn’t seem to have a response to that, as he stayed silent. You turned your attention to Minah, who seemed fairly overwhelmed with the conversation she had just witnessed. At that moment though, you didn’t really care. 

“Minah you don’t have to do this, but if you do I swear nothing will happen to you. This is the only way we can think of to lure him out.” You tried your best to calm your temper, you didn’t need to scare off the human. She was obviously already scared enough, being trapped here with Vampires while hiding from a Vampire. It was a rough situation for someone who had just found out that supernatural creatures were real. She hesitated, stumbling over her words.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Even attempting to push a smile onto your face. “We are trying for tomorrow night. So get some rest for now. You already have my phone number so just message me with your decision okay?”

She seemed pretty relieved about this and nodded. Removing your hand, you turned to face Junhui, who wasn’t looking at you at all. You had been planning on saying one final thing, full of spite and frustration, but doing so felt wrong. Despite being irritated Junhui was still your family, for now at least. It was up to Junhui and Soonyoung to decide if that wasn’t the case anymore. In fact Junhui would probably report back to Soonyoung tonight. You couldn’t stop guilt from creeping into your system, thinking about how Minghao was most likely also going to get in trouble for your actions. So instead of speaking you just left, walking out of the room and back down the stairs.

As you exited through the back door, you thought back on what Junhui had said. You felt the phantom beatings of a heart in your chest, the pounding as you really contemplated things. It was strange to stay but you did in fact care about Wonwoo. Despite whatever he thought of you, like if this was just a friendship until everything had been solved, you did truly care about what happened to him. Not that you were going to admit that to him, ever. You’d be stupid if you did.

With a groan, you made your way out towards the forest again. Messaging Wonwoo and asking him to meet back up with you once he was done with his pack. This was going to be a long night.

#Caratwritersclub #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #Wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo scenarios #seventeen werewolf au #werewolf seventeen au #svt werewolf au #werewolf svt au

[imhereforbvcky]

Sweet

Summary: (Natasha x  shy!reader) Your old friend Sam recruits your help for a low-key work party, ya know, at the Avengers Compound. Of course you’re the type of soft-hearted civvie that could fall head over heels for a particular red-headed assassin while you’re there.

Prompt/Request: This is not exactly the silly drunken interaction @whyhello-there requested… There are drinks and it’s lighthearted, but it’s more a bunch of sober spies being cute than it is drunk shenanigans.

Warnings: A little swearing, FLUFF

Word Count: 2518

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?”

Apprehension rippled through your voice like a current. You’d known Sam Wilson forever. Friends like him didn’t come around every lifetime. Refusal wasn’t even in your vocabulary when he invited you to a work party, but now… Well now, you were nervous.

“It’s just a barbecue.” He gave you that look, the one that’s half a smile and half an exasperated frown. It was the one he gave every time you worried too much. “No one’s makin’ you stay if you don’t have fun.”

“But you are makin’ me go even though I’m nervous,” you smirked, nudging his side with your elbow.

He chuckled, warm and infectious. “And you’ll be glad I did. Trust me.”

“I do,” you grumbled as he shoved the massive tray of food into your arms.

While Tony would be spinning up cocktails, tossing (and dropping) bottles of scotch, Clint planned to grill farm fresh chicken, and Wanda had already set to work stringing up lights and setting out vases of flowers with feather-soft petals. Sam, with a little help from a friend, covered the sides.

As a man of easy smiles and affectionate banter, the list of things Sam Wilson took seriously was not a huge one. But good food? Top of the list.

Your mouth watered just looking at the bright yellow corn on the cob, waiting to be slathered in creamy cheese sauce and a hint of cayenne. The tangy pineapple slices would sweeten with a few minutes on the grill. You’d helped Sam fill jalapenos with cheese before wrapping them in bacon. The peach halves were the hardest to resist, but you couldn’t wait for Sam to serve them up grilled with thin strips of basil and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

His was a tall order with such an unusual crowd, but on the bright side, it meant that today, he needed a hand. It meant you would meet your heroes. Everybody’s heroes. Real life, living breathing heroes. The Avengers.

Sam placed his palm on the biometric scanner and the panel came to life. After a few chirps from the machine, he pulled the door open and held it for you. The room looked like something out of Architecture Digest. Wide and open, concrete and glass stretched in every direction. The enormous retro furniture seemed lived in and relaxing. The space was austere but you immediately wanted to stretch out and nap in the sunlight pouring through the floor to ceiling windows.

“Woah,” you breathed, mouth still agape.

Lights ticked on as you moved through the space and powered down as you left. There were no clumsy TV remotes on coffee tables, no unsightly cables. It was all efficient, energy saving, and bright.

It absolutely screamed Tony Stark.

“C’mon,” Sam encouraged, taking the tray of food off your flagging hands. “Party’s out back.”

Feeling more out of place by the second, you followed close at his heels. The glass walls extended in every direction, like a thin skin wrapping around the entire building. It reminded you of a snow globe, holding a whole world safe within.

Except for here, at the entrance to the party. Here, the panels had been pushed to the side, like the wall itself had opened up. It felt like standing in the mouth of a great concrete cave, waiting to step into the sunlight of another reality.

It was a different world in more than just appearance. The Avengers lived a life you could only guess at. You watched them through the looking glass, through the lens of television and internet media. Apart from Sam, they were practically a work of fiction to you. Now they were a mere step away.

“Who’s your friend?” The voice drew your attention immediately. Smooth as silk, somehow low and vibrant all at once. The question was for Sam, but it had been aimed in your direction. She was staring at you, smiling, but sharp green eyes roved over every detail. You could feel it like the heat of the sun piercing through a cloud.

Sam called your name and you blinked quickly out of your reverie.

“Quit hiding in the shadows and gimme a hand!” he hollered from half way across the courtyard. He hadn’t stopped at the precipice as you had. He’d crossed it easily because this world of legends was his own.

You nodded, tried to laugh away your silliness, your anxiety, and stepped into the sun. The pair of you set to work about the food like clockwork. While you began unwrapping the corn, Sam had turned aside to light and oil the grill.

When you looked up she was standing there. The one from before. The one you were sure was some sort of enchantress, because once again your tongue stilled and you couldn’t drag your eyes away. Hell, you could barely breathe. Wasn’t breathing supposed to be involuntary?

She smiled again and this time it was warmer, her eyes were softer as she watched you for a moment before they flickered to the tray in front of you. You, however, couldn’t look away from her face long enough to see her reach for one of the peach slices.

“Uht-uh! You better not!” Sam scolded from your side as he returned from the grill for the corn.

She laughed and held up her hands in surrender.

“Some spy,” he teased her with a wink before turning back to the grill.

“I almost lost a finger trying to snag one earlier,” you admitted, surprised at your own voice.

“I think he’s hangry.” She said it loud enough for you to know it was more for Sam’s benefit. She was good at that. Saying things without really saying them at all. She could mold and move a conversation in the subtlest ways. You could see immediately why she was so good at her job.

“No, you deserved it,” Sam complained. “You both know there’s snitchin’ in my kitchen.”

She smiled at you and rolled her eyes. You felt that heat again as they slid back to you, skimming over your figure, a little more slowly this time. A little less sharp and a little more intrigued.

It seemed desperately far away when you heard Sam introduce you, give your name. “She’s an old friend,” he said. Next he pointed with his tongs to the woman whose gaze remained steady as ever on you. You hadn’t dared to even swallow. “And this is—“

“I know,” you blurted. The tension in your gut had simmered to a rippling boil and burst out of you with nervous energy. “I-I know who you are.”

She never faltered, but you noticed her posture stiffen slightly, and she gave the tiniest nod. The sun glinted in her red hair when she did, a shimmer of copper light was all that gave the motion away.

“But now that I’m talking, I’ve realized I should have just kept my mouth shut because I have no idea what to call you,” you laughed, tight and uncertain.

Her lips flinched, it was the only notice that she’d even heard you. If you weren’t so anxious, so instantly head over heels, you’d have recognized it for what it was: she was stifling a laugh, and only just managing it.

“And god, you are so impressive. I knew you were beautiful from TV and everything but I-I’m… oh my god I need to stop talking!” You looked over at Sam for help. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye with raised eyebrows and a laugh ready to erupt. But he offered no lifeline.

You jumped when warm soft hands closed around one of your own. Hers. Gentle and adept, soft. Skilled hands, not workman’s hands.

“I’m Natalia.” That damn smile again and you were lost. “But friends call me Natasha.” You nodded. “Good friends call me Nat.”

“And what should I--?”

“Hey Nat! You’re up!” Clint called from the other side of the open courtyard.

She looked over her shoulder and nodded.

“Hey, Happy Feet! You want in?” Tony called to Sam, holding up a handful of darts beside Barton. “I need a partner.”

“Penguins don’t even fly, Tony,” Rhodes lamented from the pool.

Sam tipped his beer bottle towards Rhodes in agreement, before glancing at you and Natasha, a sly grin drawing out the dimples in his cheeks. “I’ve got my hands full with these jalapeno poppers, but uh… you get my buddy here a drink and I bet she’ll play.”

“Okay, dear, we are down by a metric fuckton and I have a lot riding on this game,” Tony explained by way of pep talk. The world’s worst pep talk. “So if you could maybe make a bullseye on this shot, and save my dignity, I would be forever in your debt.”

“Tony,” Natasha drawled, half a reprimand. “You’re scaring her.”

“I-no. No pressure,” he smiled, laughing now as he threw an arm over your shoulder. You knew he was kidding. Mostly. “But don’t embarrass me in front of the super spies.”

With a sip of your drink for courage, and a deep breath for focus, you stepped up to the line and made aim.

It was the worst shot of your life.

The dart didn’t even make the board. It clattered off the concrete behind the target and sunk into the dirt. The little red tip waved up at you derisively.

Tony sighed and Clint whooped. You heard none of it because Natasha’s hand had begun to slide down your arm and wrap around your own.

“Damn it!” Tony cursed.

“Loser makes the next round,” Natasha explained beside you, tipping her empty glass. She said it so softly you knew without turning your head that she must be close, coiling around you and humming into the shell of your ear. You wanted to curl up against the warmth of her body, now pressed against your arm. “C’mon I’ll help you carry them.”

“Bet’s a bet, man!” Clint prodded behind you as you walked toward the bar.

“FRIDAY?” Tony called with the distinctive groan of defeat.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Change all my access codes to Tony Stank.”

Natasha laughed and glanced over her shoulder, allowing herself a moment to revel in her victory. It was a light breeze on your shoulder, a kiss of her warm breath as she turned her head. Her smile beamed buoyant and luminous. All the sharp edges chased away by the light of idle and pleasant company. Of trust and love. Family.

You’d always loved and been drawn to people who laughed easily, like Sam. But you’d never quite appreciated it like this. To hear it so freely given from someone so noticeably cautious with their everything, was truly captivating. You regarded it like a gift, a treasure, a breakable crown laid in your hands. You wouldn’t waste it or break it.

“So what will you make us?” she asked.

You hadn’t even noticed you’d reached the bar already.

“Uhm. I could make something with peaches?” you suggested, remembering.

“Sounds sweet.” Her eyebrow perked up and she leaned forward on her elbow, watching with mild interest as you got to work. “Are you as good with those ingredients as Sam?”

The laugh came at once. It was loud and mortifying before you quickly covered your mouth, eyes wide. She seemed to enjoy it though. She laughed with you; another gift.

You’d already lost count of how many ounces of vodka you’d poured into one of the glasses. So, no. Definitely not as good as Sam.

“No,” you finally managed. “Not even close. But I can follow direction.”

“So you’re sweet too,” she mused, eyes locked on her fingertips fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

She never touched you, never moved an inch closer, but you could feel the want of it like a match held an inch away from your skin. Like a heat arcing from her skin to yours. Instead she waited, measuring the breaths before you took half a step closer. And another, until you were close enough that her knuckles brushed against the smooth skin of your thigh.

“Am I?” you asked, hardly more than a whisper. It was a nonsensical question, but the sensible part of your brain had short-circuited the moment you felt her sun-warmed skin.

She nodded, slow and easy. The pads of her fingers traced the edge of your jaw. “You’re soft,” she murmured with a lazy smile.

“So are you,” you muttered, abandoning the vodka to entangle your fingers with hers, the ones that had stilled on the hem of your skirt.

A small non-committal laugh passed her lips. Softness was not a word often used to describe the Black Widow. At least, not in the way she had adorned you with it.

Instead of arguing this, she focused on the ways you were soft: soft skin beneath her palm, soft breath tickling her lips, soft nervous smiles, timid and kind. Natasha liked soft things. They were rare in her world and all the more beautiful for it.

Your eyes fluttered closed the moment she began to lean forward. Her kiss was soft and warm. Lips gently molded against yours, first your upper lip, twice, then the bottom. She didn’t probe or push, and neither did you. There was no expectation or demand, only an indefinable want simmering beneath your skin and a slow quiet affinity glowing in your eyes and hers.

“Gentle things are scarce around here,” she murmured, tracing your lips with her thumb. “I hope you won’t be, милая.”

The bright green trees and lush rolling hills of upstate New York passed by the window in a blur. It wasn’t quite regret that tugged at your spine, wound around your gut and squeezed your lungs until you heaved a long, deep sigh. No, not regret at all.

It was a longing, a sentimentality for something you’d only known for a brief moment. You shook your head and chuckled at yourself, at your own absurdity. How could one be sentimental for a time only just passed?

Sam glanced over at you from the driver’s side, fully aware that you hadn’t heard a word he’d said for the past twenty minutes. You’d walked out of that compound with stars in your eyes, and now you were giggling at nothing.

“So then I rode a hippo up Mount Everest and discovered there’s a cave up there with a cyclops named Hank. Hank makes a mean margarita.”

“Hmm sounds good,” you agreed absently. You probably would have agreed to anything. Probably already had. “Hey Sam-I-am?”

“What?” He glanced over at you with a warm grin. You always loved the way the apples of his cheeks swelled and his eyes shone when he was holding back a laugh. A real friend could make you laugh with just a look.

Or a word. And boy, did Sam laugh when you spoke next.

“I think I’m in love.”

“Only someone as soft as you could fall so hard, so fast.”

Will reblog with tags shortly.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader fluff #black widow x reader #black widow x reader fluff #natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow fanfic #shy reader #natasha x shy!reader

[angelteyam]

Broken Zipper (p.p.)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: mentions of smut (18+), depression/anxiety, PTSD, mentions of death and grief, mentions of smoking cigarettes (don’t do drugs, kids), swearing, a little angsty

Summary: You relationship with Peter wasn’t always easy. After he breaks up with you in the midst of a fight, you find one of his hoodies in a pile of your clothes, and you can’t help but remember how much you miss him as you drape the fabric over your shoulders.

Word Count: 1,897

note: peter and the reader are both 18+ 

also note: you may want to listen to “Hoodie” by Hey Violet while you read this, just a thought <3

--

You never meant to keep the hoodie.

You found it buried in your pile of clothes on your laundry chair two days after Peter broke up with you. You had forgotten you’d borrowed it one particularly cold night, and you would be damned if you got caught looking like a fool returning it to him. 

So you kept it.

It’s been three excruciating weeks since that awful night, and you can’t help yourself as you drape the soft, navy fabric over your shoulders every night before you go to sleep. It still has Peter’s smell all over it, and breathing him in only makes the tears pool in your eyes. 

Neither one of you meant for the fight to happen. Peter was just doing the best he could. Trying to juggle being Spider-Man, dating you, and going to college wasn’t exactly easy, and that wasn’t even the problem. The problem was, Peter had shut you out. He wouldn’t tell you anything anymore - what he was doing out on his patrols, the dreams he had at night. Hell, you could barely wrangle out of him what he and May had done for dinner the night before.

After a year of dating, you thought you deserved a little more than that. It was selfish of you maybe, to expect him to just tell you anything and everything when you probably should already know. All you wanted was for him to just talk to you, to actually look at you and see you in front of him, rather than his eyes being glazed over as he daydreamed of far of things that he wasn’t comfortable telling you about.

Things had changed after...after Tony. That’s the only way you knew how to put it, and that’s pretty much all Peter would tell you. You knew in the back of your mind that Peter thought it was his fault - it was his fault they’d lost, it was his fault he’d lost yet another figure. He couldn’t even look at the picture of him and Tony holding the Stark Internship diploma anymore. 

It had been years since that day. Peter was nearing 19 now, and yet it still simmered in his gut, festering and boiling until the only thing he could do was shut down. That’s all he knew how to do. He wouldn’t allow himself to grieve or cry, not after all these years, and as much as you tried to get him to let it out, he wouldn’t. 

You’d still done what you could. You’d been there for him, as much as he would let you, but you could only help Peter as much as he was willing to allow. The second his walls closed up around him, even May had no way of getting in. 

Still, after all of that, you miss him. 

You miss his kiss. The way his eyes would light up when he smiled, when he was having a good day. The way he’d ruffle his curls against your forehead to make you giggle, his hands firm and warm against your hips. The feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you as you cuddled on the couch. Even on the bad days, Peter still cuddled you, relishing in your skin against his. 

And maybe you were a fool for being pissed off about all of it. Maybe you should’ve let him heal on his own time. After all, healing was anything but linear, and Peter of all people deserved the chance to grieve on his own. But the bad days were starting to weigh heavy on you, and when Peter demanded you leave that night, pushing every one of your buttons and crossing every line he knew not to, you left.

You know you shouldn’t have, but you did.

And you regret with every fiber of your being. 

So you wear the hoodie every night, and every night you wish it was Peter’s arms around you instead of the warm cotton.

The zipper is broken. You broke it a few days ago out of pure frustration as you zipped it up over your t-shirt, and since then you can’t get it to zip. So it hangs open, the zipper pull caught just by your ribs. You know if you gave it back that May would be able to fix it, but this is the only thing you have left of him. 

You’re pretty sure the zipper represents your broken heart.

There’s a burn mark on the inner right arm of the hoodie. You and Peter are the only ones who know about it. He’d bought a pack of Camels one night from the corner store, just to see what it was like. When he realized he hated it, he doused the smoke on the arm of the hoodie, nearly setting the hoodie on fire in the process. 

You had nearly died laughing as he flailed around, smacking the arm of the hoodie to put out the embers. 

He was screaming, “Ow! Hot! Hot! Hot!”

You were trying to get him to slow down so you could help.

“Babe, stop!” You cried through breaths of laughter. “Let me help you put it out!”

Peter’s face was flushed red when you finally helped him douse the flames, but he still smiled when he noticed how happy you were. As you resumed your walk back to your dorm, he laced his fingers with yours, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

Even Spider-Man could be dim sometimes. 

Your room is silent. Too silent. You sit there on your bed, hating the way the silence sinks down on you. On a good day, when the sun was shining through your curtains, you could always count on Peter to chatter into your ear about a dog he met on the street, or the explosion he’d made during his Chemistry lab. 

You always loved how he’d remember every little detail of a story - the color of the dog’s fur, what it felt like, how happy the dog was to see him, how happy he was to see the dog. His bright, redeeming innocence always returned to his face when he was telling you a good story, and you loved the way his smile would finally reach his eyes on those days. 

You loved him so much. You still love him.

The tapping of knuckles on your door shatters your daydream, and you hop from your bed to pad across the room. Taking a deep breath, you wrap your hand around the doorknob and twist, the door opening to reveal the last person in the world you’d expect to see.

It’s Peter.

And he’s crying.

You pull him into your room in a flash, snapping the door shut behind you, instinct taking over all rationality telling you not to let him in.

Fuck being rational.

“What’s going on?”

Your voice comes out harsher than you intended. So you rephrase.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

Peter’s eyes, which had previously been trained on the floor, flick up to meet yours. You watch him as he crumbles, all walls he’d held so secure shattering right in front of you.

His voice is barely a whisper. “I really fucked up, Y/N.”

Your heart catches in your throat. God, what did he do this time?

“Why? What happened?”

Peter chokes back a sob, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows back the harsh wave of tears. 

“I - I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. I’m so so sorry, Y/N, for saying all those things and making you leave when you didn’t do anything wrong and it’s all my fault.”

You’re gobsmacked. This is the most he’s confessed to you in months. Part of you wants to be angry, to tell him to get the hell out and leave you alone, but the better part of you his just glad he’s here in the first place.

“I didn’t mean it either,” you whisper. “Pete, I just want you to talk to me. You can trust me, you can open up to me. That’s what I’m here for.”

Peter’s trying, but the tears won’t stop. Before you know any better, he’s collapsing into you, arms wrapping around your waist as he shakes with soft sobs.

You hold him, as close as you possibly can, hands rubbing soothing circles on his back as he finally cries for the first time in years.

You’re crying too.

“I don’t know what happened,” he whimpers. “I just got so...so sad, and I thought you would hate me if I cried in front of you, and I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems because I love you so much.”

“Pete,” you whisper, stroking his hair. “I could never hate you.”

He sniffs. “Really?”

“Of course not, Peter. I love you.”

He wipes at his nose, smiling for the first time in weeks, and you feel yourself melt a little at the sight. 

“I love you too.”

And then he’s falling into you, for real this time, crashing his lips against yours and tangling his hands in your hair. It’s a little wet from the tears you’ve both shed, but neither of you can be bothered to care. 

You’re both just so glad to be back into each other’s arms again that neither of you particularly notice that your thighs hook around Peter’s waist and he lifts you with incredible ease, holding you firmly with his hands. Your lips never detach from his as he lays you on the bed, tearing and pulling until the both of you are rid of your clothes.

It’s familiar. 

Warm.

Passionate. 

You finally feel at home as he sinks down onto you, skin against skin, and you’re falling into each other again. You’re writhing in his strong arms, finally whole as you give yourself to him completely, and he gives himself to you. You can’t help but tense as the coil in your body winds tighter at his every touch, his fingers lighting fires against your skin. 

And then the both of you are seeing stars. 

Not long after, Peter’s pulling on his boxers and climbing beneath your covers, watching you brush your hair as you ready yourself for bed. And he can’t help but notice how beautiful you are, how perfect, and how stupid he was for ever letting you go in the first place.

Out of habit, you grab the hoodie on your way to your bed, shrugging it on over your shoulders, and you watch as Peter’s eyes go wide.

“What?” You ask, fingers fumbling with the broken zipper.

“Is that - is that my hoodie?”

You blush beneath his stare, and you find yourself fumbling for the right words. 

“Yeah, I uh- I found it, and I got really cold one night, and I just...kinda...kept it. It uh - it reminded me of you.”

Peter chuckles breathily, his cheeks tinted pink, and he opens his arms to welcome you into his chest. You snuggle into him, peaceful as can be, both of you forgetting that you even separated at all. 

“It looks good on you,” he mutters, pressing tender kisses into your hair. 

As you fall asleep in his arms, your head on his chest and his arms wound tightly around your torso, you don’t even notice that the hoodie’s zipper is broken anymore.

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x oc #peter parker headcanon #peter parker headcanons #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #tom holland as peter parker #peter parker blurb #peter parker blurbs #peter parker drabble #peter parker drabbles #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman headcanon #spiderman headcanons #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #one-shot #oneshot #peter parker oneshot #peter parker one-shot #short fic #drabble #blurb #spidey-waffles writes #my writings

[taylorroger-s]

𝔢𝔵 𝔫𝔦𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔬 // a six underground story

----- ｐｒｏｌｏｇｕｅ -----

a/n i don’t want to preface this too much but this isn’t really a fanfic? there’s no pairing at the focus, and it’s really just a story in the 6u world because there is no way i’m letting micheal bay waste the potential of 6u. I worked extremely hard on this and the later missions and i’m really proud of it! so i hope you enjoy, there is much more to come! so here’s my masterlist, and no warnings except for swearing. enjoy :)

‎

𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚖, 𝙽𝚈𝙲 ----------

‎

“nine, you have to get out of there.” one hisses into his headset, drawing the attention of the waiting driver. she rolls her eyes, anxiously scanning the block for any law enforcement or her team. 

“you think i don’t fucking know that? but y’all better get your asses over here. feds are swarming even on the other side of the park.” nine gritts her teeth at every police cruiser slithering by, their flashing lights only adding to her growing anxiety. 

“my hands are kinda full right now!” four shouts, breathing heavily into his microphone. things went south fast, and even their planned escape had been shaky at best. the mission failed and they need to get out of the city fast. 

“get over here, and i’ll get you out. remember, i’m on columbus and west 92nd in front of the party city. ten minutes. now make like ghosts and disappear.”

‎

𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑 & 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚊 

‎

tires squealed against the beat-up asphalt as two early model corvettes shot down an empty stretch of highway 75. bitter cold nebraska winter winds cut through to the bone as the pair curved around a rough bend of road surrounded on both sides by sprawling fields. the sun hung low on the horizon, struggling to light up the endless farmland. the only sound within ten miles was the roar of combustion engines mingling with crickets chirping as they passed by. 

“cmon,” a woman muttered to her car, eyes narrowed as she scanned the makeshift racetrack. she couldn’t make out the taunt called out to her from the other driver, responding only with a raised middle finger and a sharp push on the accelerator. her car’s heavily modified engine purred under her touch, advancing on her opponent’s ride. 

a window of opportunity finally appeared before her. she was no more than a foot behind him, another bend visible in her peripheral vision. exhaling slowly, she brought her left foot from hovering over the clutch to the brake. the turn came closer, wrapping around a hill. she could just about hear the squeal of her opponent’s brakes, pressing on her brake at the same time. they hurtled around the bend at dangerous speeds. coming out of the turn, her opponent switched his right foot from the brake to the gas pedal to accelerate out of the turn. but her foot was already there, giving her just a fraction of a second edge over his car. her ride edged up on his, a devilish grin spreading across her lips. 

just as her dark red car was about to overtake his, the flash of distant headlights made them both freeze. she wanted to scream in frustration, but there was no time to think, lest she wanted to risk a head on collision. she very reluctantly pulled in behind his car, various scenarios for vengeance cycling through her head. their race was over. she had lost. 

the semi truck passed them by without a second look, and after a few minutes the pair pulled into a decades old rest stop. the woman ran her fingers across the smooth dashboard of her car, thumb brushing over a small mark right by the unused radio. they made it fifteen miles before their race was rudely interrupted. a sudden knock on the windshield stirred her from her thoughts. 

“too slow once again darling.” the man cooed, poisonous edge to his words. that was the third race she’d lost to him in six weeks. it was starting to damage her reputation as a notorious street racer in an innocuous corner of small-town america. the mechanics shop she worked for was the not-so-clever front of their racing circle - essentially the only friends she had - wherein she was the best. at least until that start up showed his face in gretna, nebraska- of all places. 

“oh fuck off.” she grumbled, keeping her eyes trained on the last rays of the sun sinking below the horizon, plunging the rest stop into a chilling darkness. the sky was just beginning to show the shimmer of distant stars, rolling across the countryside in a thick blanket of night. constellations blinked into existence against the dark. a saying from her latin classes in college came to mind: natura non constristatur. nature doesn’t give a shit about you.  

“as you wish. same time next week?” her rival called, already waltzing back to his car, hood shimmering silver in the burgeoning moonlight, a small rosary and fuzzy dice hanging from his rear view mirror. it was about ten years newer than hers, but not nearly as slick. at least in her opinion. 

“one week and i’m gonna destroy your ass.” she responded, words almost drowned out by the subsequent start of his decades old engine. he loudly revved it a few times, overtaking any words she could possibly try to curse him with. there were a few choice latin phrases she had stored up.

“in your dreams!” he shouted, pulling onto the road and heading north, back to her hometown. and so she was left alone with her thoughts, only finding company in the infinite sky and hum of wildlife. the cold winter night started to pick away at her fading adrenaline, causing her teeth to quietly chatter as her eyes stayed focused on the heavens. what was she doing? she would never get out of nebraska, and her life would all be for nothing. but before she could fully spiral into existentialism, the allure of her bed came to mind; an area much more comfortable than the freezing drivers seat of her 1986 corvette. 

she tore her eyes away from the nighttime sky with a huff, hand drifting to the gearshift. she started the engine, slowly moving the car into reverse. she didn’t think to check in the rearview mirror until a shout rang out over the hum. she slammed her foot on the brake, just before hitting whoever decided to fucking walk behind a moving car. the anger slowly simmering below the skin after her loss decided to boil over. she hopped out of the car before she even turned off the engine to tell off the prick who decided to ruin her moping. 

"what the fuck man?” she was fuming so much the mystery figure could probably see the smoke pouring from her ears. she couldn’t quite make out their face since the only lamp within five miles lit them from behind. crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned against the trunk of the car, glaring at the intruder while she waited for an answer. 

“wasn’t expecting that reaction. hello-” okay so definitely a guy, she thought, squinting harder to try and make out his face. he brushed off his pants before looking up at her, face obscured by shadow and sunglasses. at night. the tone of his voice irked her; infuriatingly playful even in the weird circumstances. 

“what the hell are you doing out here?” she growled, bracing her hands on the burnished metal of her car. her nails tapped rhythmically against it, shifting her expression to appear as calm and intimidating as possible. there wasn’t another car visible in the parking lot as far as she could tell, and the man certainly didn’t appear to be a fallen angel. how and why was he there? but there was another, more concerning question picking at her mind: if he was there for her, how did he find her?

“is that how you always greet strangers?” the man quipped, still avoiding her question. a stranger was exactly what he was. general knowledge suggested to not talk to strangers, especially in an empty rest stop parking lot. in the middle of nowhere. fear crept up on her as the man smiled, whispering worries in her ear the longer he dodged her questions. 

“what do you want?” she gritted her teeth, fingers slowly curling into fists. her instincts kicked into high gear as he took a few steps closer. his hands were tucked into his back pockets, and he looked disturbingly nonchalant as he approached her. 

"heard about your racing. pretty good from what i’ve heard." now that threw her for a loop. why did he want to hear about her racing? however, logic was soon overshadowed by a wave of pride and she lifted her chin, looking straight into the man’s eyes through his sunglasses. it was too dark to glean anything from his expression, but she didn’t waver. she was better than pretty good. 

"the best. now who's asking?" she nearly spat the last words out through gritted teeth, pushing off the car and taking a step forward. the man smiled at her bravado, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"i have a job for you." she scoffed, shaking her head. it suddenly popped into her mind that he could be a criminal looking for a getaway driver or a scapegoat. but the seed of curiosity burrowing inside her brain won out. 

"so you mind going into specifics?" she questioned him with heavy doubt in her voice. 

"not here cupcake. but i need a driver.” the illegal path seemed more and more likely. ‘not here’ oh yeah, not suspicious at all. she was tempted to shut the conversation straight down and run, but there was nothing she could really lose by hearing more. worst case scenario, she gets frostbite and maybe put on a hit list. best case? there was no way of knowing.

"and why me?"

"like you said, you’re the best. and you have next to nothing tying you here. your skill is being wasted, but i can fix that. i can give you a cause to believe in. so how would you like a chance to actually change the world?" that stopped her. she hadn’t done anything worthwhile in a very, very long time. and believing in something? that was a distant memory. she didn’t believe in this man either. 

"aquila non capit muscas. i’m not here for your nonsense.” she was aware that quoting her latin professor would earn herself an eye roll from the mystery man, but she wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries nor dreamy exaggerations. she was starting to think he was insane. and yet, something in his words tugged at her heart. he sounded suddenly sincere. it was like he had read her mind. 

“okay shakespeare, there certainly is some nonsense in this offer, sure. but it’s your best shot to get out of here. i am offering you freedom from everything holding you back.” five seconds passed. ten. fifteen. thirty. she mulled over his words over and over again, quickly disregarding how horribly vague they were. there really was no reason to take him seriously, and he had provided no details into this “job” which was starting to sound more and more illegal. 

still. she turned to look at her car, scanning all its dents and imperfections. so many memories, so much history that had slowly made her jaded and cynical. so much to break free from. even though there was no evidence that this job was worth it, or that his promise of freedom rang true, she was tired of the bullshit. 

“i’m listening.” a sharp smile spread across his lips, and he nodded. 

"good. but there's one thing i need you to do before we get started. i need you to die"

-----

hey mary, and whoever else is reading. i guess this is goodbye. sorry you had to find out this way. 

it doesn’t matter what i once wanted to be. i didn’t get it. but this is what i want. i promise. i’m sorry to ghost you. but this is what’s right for me. see you on the flip side. 

faking her death was almost disturbingly simple. a burning car at the base of a ravine, suicide note found just outside the melted frame. no reason to pursue an investigation. attending her funeral was the most surreal part. until then, the weight of her decision hadn't felt real. she watched as her sister, her coworkers, and even her racing rival said their last goodbyes at what they thought was her final resting place. she couldn’t watch anymore when her sister began to sob, and the man, who had identified himself as one, dragged her away before she had a chance to break down

the night before she faked her death, she sat on her bedroom floor, chopping off locks of hair and silently contemplating what she was about to do. the rules that one gave her were simple in theory, but horribly complicated in reality. 

cities you have never been to. people you have never met. numbers instead of names. only talk to your fellow ghosts. plural. she was about to be thrown in with a band of hungry revolutionaries with similar shady pasts. at least, she assumed that's who she would find once one took her to the last home she would ever know. last home. she cycled through the pros and cons for the hundredth time, weighing them over and over.

no more taxes. no more criminal background. no crazy ex chasing her. no expectations to leave behind. pure freedom, if she followed the rules of course. the homegrown american girl she once was would die, and in her place: nine. 

cons? those were a little more iffy. her sister mary was a senior in highschool and just turned 18. mary was all she had left, and vice versa. even though mary was technically an adult and could fend for herself, she still felt guilty. more of her hair fluttered to the ground. if she was going to have a new name, she might as well get new hair. it was rough around the edges, horribly uneven, and made it look as though she had lost a fight with a weed whacker. fitting. 

not too long after, she was in a plane on her way to nowhere. she was completely alone in the cabin, one piloting from the cockpit. nine was mesmerized by the sprawling land thousands of feet below as they moved west. it was her first, but definitely not her last time on a plane. 

was it insane? yes. was it almost a certain ticket to an actual early grave? definitely. and yet, every time she finished looking through her list, there was only one outcome that came out of it all. a death with more meaning than her life would ever bring. she would miss her sister, and the few friends left behind, but for the first time in a long time, the apathy faded away. 

‎

𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝 ----------

‎

“alright motherfuckers, i finally got our asses a driver.” one called out into the dark belly of the old aircraft, lit only by a few glowing screens. nine followed him in, holding tight to her small duffel bag full of the only possessions one let her take, the logo of her high school plastered on the side.

“wow, only took you six months.” one flipped on a light switch, turning on a few lightbulbs in the center of the room, illuminating six figures gathered around a rusted metal table. each one looked like they were from a completely different planet. 

“thank you for the attitude four, i hate it.” one cheerfully pointed to a chiseled blond man wearing a worn blue hoodie. she assumed rightly that he was four, and based on the accent, also british. she idly wondered how he ended up in the same place she was, or in the same place as the rest of one’s mismatched crew. a crew that she was now a part of. 

“six was already too fucking much. then seven. and now eight.” a slightly scary, tall blonde woman spoke, thick french accent coating her words. despite the venom, it almost looked like she had never moved her lips, an eerily blank expression stuck on her face. nine suddenly felt extraordinarily childish with her “gretna dragons” bag, the faded green fabric full of pulled strings and various stains. just the way she stood make nine feel in over her head. one took it all in stride. 

“well i don’t see you volunteering to give up your handguns and get in the driver's seat, and eventually you agreed to eight for the same reason, so shush.” nine looked between one and two, and their silent standoff. two rolled her eyes, essentially surrendering to nine’s presence. nine let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. she had a feeling it would be a shit idea to be on that woman’s bad side. 

“this is nine. nine, this is two, three, four, five, seven, and eight.” one pointed to them each in turn: the tall blonde woman, a hispanic man with a full beard, the startlingly attractive blond man, a woman with aviator sunglasses hanging from her shirt, a tall dark-skinned man who seemed much less stony than the others, and a tall girl wearing an excessive amount of leather. but there was something else that worried her more than the mismatched group one presented. a number was skipped. 

“wait, could i get a quick rundown of who does what?” nine assumed there was a reason for each person to be there.

“i’m a billionaire and…”

“i’m blaine. that’s camille, javier, billy, amelia, and sofia” seven - blaine - cut one off. nine was caught off guard; it seemed one declined to mention that ‘numbers instead of names’ were more of a formality for the rest of the team. the rules she was told must have been one’s original vision.

“seven-” one tried to silence blaine, but was stopped with a glare. apparently one was equally against the names as seven was with numbers. it was intriguing, but nine wasn’t willing to dig further into his mind, nor was she okay with sharing her name. she wanted to leave everything behind. 

“nope, she’s part of the team now. numbers are for missions. what’s your name?” she seized up, eyes moving to each person to identify names with faces, something she had never been good at. numbers just seemed so much simpler. 

“no.” nine responded flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. seven froze, but held his hands up in surrender. one nodded approvingly to nine, and continued with his explanation of everyone’s roles. 

“she knows what’s up. now, two is the spy, three is the hitman, four is the skywalker…” though one’s titles didn’t give extraordinary detail, having ‘the skywalker’ as a job description was simply puzzling.

“the hell does that mean?” she asked, eyes flicking just for a moment over to four before returning to one. 

“he does parkour, five is the doctor, seven is the sniper, eight is the scout, and you are…” one continued without missing a breath, and nine suspected he predicted that question. four caught her eye and winked. 

“the driver?” the sly smiles suddenly slipped from the ghost’s faces as they exchanged guarded looks. nine had a sinking feeling as to why. 

“that was six, our last driver. let’s hope you avoid the same fate.” his grim words carried a little-too-lighthearted tone. well that’s reassuring, she thought. not worrying at all. one rubbed his hands together, walking over to one of the walls in their airplane shell meeting room. nine pieces of paper were on the wall, eight of them with roman numerals going up from two, and one with a photo of a man who had a giant red x on his face. his face tugged at nine’s memory. he must have been on the news. this operation might just be bigger than she expected. 

“gather around the fire, cleavers, target two. corporate mogul noah kenneth carpenter,” one took down the page labeled “ii” and behind it hung a photo of the titular capitalistic businessman. nine felt like she was about to hurl. she knew that face. any guilt for leaving faded away in one fell swoop; this was the vengeance she yearned for. her sister mourned her loss, but nine could now strike back stronger than the girl she was could ever dream of. 

“been accused of fraud, sexual harassment, shady international dealings, labor abuse. textbook scumbag, yet rich enough to keep himself in the clear. and we’re going to take him down. there are three simple steps, except there’s more than three and they’re not simple.” there was a beat of silence after that, which nine used to take a closer look at her new teammates. three had his feet propped up on the table, two standing behind his chair with her hand on his shoulder. four leaned forward on his elbows, green eyes focused on one. five had her arms crossed over her chest, and seven had his attention focused on one’s presentation, posture perfectly straight. 

“what’s the first of these not-so-simple steps?” eight asked, picking at the thin blade of a small knife in her hands. she was a step behind the others, on the other side of seven. no longer the newest on the team, but still separate from what nine could tell. she couldn’t help but feel for the other girl. 

“glad you asked kiddo,” one grinned, a dangerous edge to his expression. “nine, i’m assuming you heard of the major disruption of the peace in florence eight months ago, and the subsequent coup in turgistan?” there was something bordering pride in his voice. nine could see small, sharp smiles from the ghosts as they glanced to each other. 

“vaguely, not much international shit made its way to me.” that was true. local news stations only showed things like county fairs and local robberies on the rare occasions nine would turn on the tv, and she didn’t care enough to go in search of global issues that didn’t concern her. 

“well that was us, and this is about to be on a similar scale. except for the unstable geopolitical aftermath. probably.” nine raised her eyebrows. it was difficult to wrap her head around these six underground vigilantes rocking the boat with nothing but varying, potentially deadly, specializations. it made her even more curious as to what she could do with them, and what she could do to noah carpenter. 

“anyway, the mission. the ultimate goal is to get him locked away, preferably not dead so he can rot in federal prison, but you can never tell with two and three on the squad,” two and three glared at one in unison, three miming slitting someone’s throat, but one just smiled. nine was starting to catch on to the group dynamics. 

“but before kenny can get a messy prison tat, we have to dig up some major dirt on him. something to destroy his legacy, drag his company through the mud, take away everything he took from the people.” nine could feel a dark smile spreading across her lips. a cause to believe in indeed. 

“so, there’s a big tech meeting thing in new york next month, and we are going to be there, along with mister exploitation over here,” one gestured crudely to the photo of carpenter pinned roughly to the thin wall. the sneer on the businessman’s face made nine’s blood boil. she was already on board with whatever the plan was going to be, and couldn’t wait to lend her driving skills to take him down. 

“what skyscraper am i crawling up now?” four sounded uninterested, cocking his head to the side. 

“it’s the guggenheim, and you’re not exactly crawling, more like sneaking. step one is going to be infiltrating. i have gotten intel saying that some shady deal is going down between him and a foreign mogul guy. we need to hear it all. the following missions are a little more iffy, and if we don’t find any dirt or evidence… well this is gonna take longer than anticipated.” 

“this is almost as vague as our last plan.” three quipped, idly invested in the small pistol in his palm. he aimed it at various spots around the room with disinterest, to which everyone responded by ducking and dodging his aim. 

“and that’s how i like it. no logical order means no one will expect what is coming.” nine just blinked at one in astonishment. her fantasies of justice tilted towards the farfetched with one’s confident admission of having no foolproof evidence to jump off of. 

“doesn’t that make it harder for us?” nine asked, unsettled by how calm everyone else seemed to be. her initial worries about one’s offer being vague came back to the forefront of nine’s mind. her instincts on the night she met one might have been more accurate than she realized, but she was in much too deep to change her mind.  

“you get used to it,” two admitted. nine almost flinched when she heard the slightly scary blonde woman speak. the comfort caught nine off guard more than two’s words. 

“now here is what our first mission is gonna play out…” one pulled out blueprints from a box under the table. pens and sharpies in hand, he started to draw out how their mission would go. he was about to start talking when he looked over his shoulder to see nine still standing a few feet from the group. he flashed her a winning smile and beckoned nine forward. the rest of the group was facing her, softening towards their newest ghost. here goes nothing.

nine took a deep breath in, then out, and took a step forward, officially leaving the past behind and entering her new death. 

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

yaydyfyaydfyasoudfhasode it’s posted!!! I have the first chapter underway and way too many ideas for how this is going to go. but here’s some hints for the future: a sparring scene, city traffic, hiding in a castle and much tension to come! stay tuned :)

lmk if you want to be on the taglist!

#ex nihilo #6u #6 underground #6 underground movie #6 underground fanfic #6 underground fanfiction #six underground #six underground fanfic #six underground fanfiction #ryan reynolds #melanie laurent #adria arjona #ben hardy #corey hawkins #manuel garcia rulfo #we livin #fanfic #fanfiction #6 underground universe #please oh please reblog

[cirrocumulation]

   this’ll largely be outta context , i gotta write a preface drabble for this probably, since this is the end to a build-up of events, but i wanted it out my brain, so have it if u like 😂

   ,,,

   “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

   Pavlova scoffs loudly at that, lip curling like she’s disgusted with the thought! “As if I’m just tryna follow you around! Why do you keep showing up in my life like some kind of haunt?!” She stomps towards him, but his shoulders bristle and she grinds to a halt with an indignant flinch; still, though, does she scowl. “Ever since you went fuckin’ crazy on Diecast and nearly got us all killed--!”

   “I DIDN’T wanna fucking BE THERE,” He suddenly reels into a shout with his shoulders and body inclined forward. He feels a fire in his head, in his chest; Pavlova recoils further, but her teeth grit. She stamps a foot. “Tough fuckin’ shit, country bumpkin! You think anyone wants to be a part’a the Frieza Force?!” She doesn’t approach, but it doesn’t matter; it begins not to matter. Gramma can feel it, the simmering turning to a boil. He curls inward on himself, forehead in his palms, sweat beading across his hairline. “You ain’t fuckin’ special just ‘cause you got a little temper tantrum problem!” Shut up, shut up--He’s itching, his fingers are itching, and he’s afraid he’ll start carving up his own flesh if he isn’t careful.

   “Shut--Shut up--,”

   “Now I got a new start here in this dinky little Time Patrol business, and I’m gonna take advantage of it! And none’a your intimidation tactics are gonna get in my way--!”

   That’s not what he wants, That’s not what I want; He takes a shallow breath in.

   “But maybe! I’ll reconsider; ‘cause I don’t know how willin’ I am--” She’s still talking, Gods damned, she’s still talking-- “To be a part of some cult club like this for some God I ain’t ever heard of--” Shut up, Shut Up, “That employs all these fuckin’ FREAKS--!” Prompts a loud, warning grunt in her direction, not unlike a growl, or even a muted scream, but she still points a claw in his face,

   “Just like you--Just like you always been--!”

   And there isn’t much to see beyond white, or maybe red; 

   Something in his skull dully snaps.

,

   Chronoa feels the clammy chill shake her shoulders before Trunks’s call reaches the Time Nest;

   She gasps and her chair clatters back as she darts away from her desk; all at once, there’s nausea, adrenaline, fear and anxiety and dread and she feels lightheaded and this effect is unmistakable, but how? Where? Why? Is it Fu? Is it someone new? What--

   Normally, yes, she would send Time Patrollers to investigate anything treacherous, it’s ill-advised to run into things herself head-first, but this--immediately--isn’t Time Patroller work! 

   This is--pure demonic energy! 

   And no one else can interface with it without risking their own physical and mental integrity in the process--

   So who--?

   Trunks meets her at the gate, fretful himself as he ushers her with a point, “O--Over there, a sudden spike in demonic energy by the Mushroom District--!”

   Frustrated, she’s already off the ground, grabbing Trunks by the collar as she leaves to drag him with her--“Trunks, who is it?” 

  “R--Right! It’s--”

   Chronoa’s eyes fixate on the beacon of climbing bright, heavy red in the distance, and she’s already left him behind, rocketing away as quickly as possible.

,

   Pavlova isn’t sure she’s ever felt such a palpable sense of terror and dread blend in her chest at the same time--

   And it only skyrockets the louder Gramma screams, the more his ki literally disintegrates the terrain around him, the faster she runs away but he’s still right behind her and is this how she dies--?!

   Chronoa reaches skyward, gasping for a moment of focus as she breaches the radius of that sinister ki; in the distance, the sky twinkles gently, a small burst--a planet, a plain and glorified space rock--safe with distance--

   A small hand cinches anywhere it can grab; Gramma’s poor ponytails, she unfortunately has no time to regard, as a shrill and desperate Kai-Kai takes both her and him away.

   Pavlova--collapses, just as Trunks clamors onto the scene. He looks just as disoriented as she does, if not quite as pale and terrified. Just a beat passes between their exchanged looks, and Trunks can’t get a word out to ask if she’s okay before Chronoa is back, between them, wheezing;

   “Miss Chronoa--!” He begins, hurrying over to her side; she manages to stop him with as reassuring of a glance over her shoulder at him as she can, a wry, tired smile as her hands shake, and she descends to the ground with teetering feet. Pavlova looks between them, unsure if she should say something, or simply leave as quickly as possible--but she casts a look down at the ground where Chronoa stands, still black, charred, smog-ridden, like the earth itself is riddled with some sort of poison. Chronoa holds out her hands and takes a deep breath; a shimmer, soft light spreads among the soil...

   Distantly, a dull, but chilling--thunder. rings out. Pavlova’s head whips around, and Trunks looks skyward;

   That new planet is gone as soon as it arrived, in a dazzling, horrible explosion in its place. Pavlova feels her stomach drop.

   She was right, she was right, he’s a freak and she’s right, what the hell are these people thinking, keeping the likes of him around here--?!

   “Stop it.” 

   She spins back around; Chronoa, fists balled at her sides, the ground under her feet--healed and new, what the hell? She’s frowning up at Pavlova from the renewed crater, frustration evident in her brow. “You’re not here to berate and pass judgement on your fellow patrollers, Miss Pavlova.”

   “But he’s a freak!” Should she know better than to speak out against a supposed God? Sure, but this is all quite bat-shit insane, and she’s got no reason to believe this ‘god’s got any worth to her name, if she lets shit like this happen--!

   “He’s a man, with a very unfortunate condition.”

   “’Unfortunate condition’, my ass, capable of tearin’ up a whole galaxy! This entire establishment, up in smoke--!”

   “I won’t let that happen.” Pavlova doesn’t buy it, but such resolve--it prompts her to stop trying at it, less she just provoke more reason for her heart to go into cardiac arrest.. 

   “Gramma is a very specific case--one we’ve been trying to heal ever since he got this way...” She looks to the sky, and concern sews through her lips; “... But now, I...” And presses her hands together, clenches fists in the fabric of her shirt as she mumbles. “This is the worst it’s ever been...”

   There goes Pavlova’s stomach, again, plummeting like a lead weight.

   And Chronoa disappears again, in an instant, leaving Trunks and Pavlova to stew in another awkward silence.

,

   Thrashing,

   Crushing,

   Splitting,

   Tearing,

   It had always boiled and ached, steaming terribly under his skin;

   Encased like a smog, howling like a beast,

   Scratching and screaming and clawing at his skin, let it out, let it out, just let it out and watching it all VANISH,

   He’d choked on restraint and begged for patience and what, for what, all for what,

   It’s all GONE,

   He’d clamored for any sense of--sense, any amount of just a little longer, wait a bit, stop it, wait a bit wait a bit, it’ll pass, it’ll go away; it’ll all be over one day. it’ll all be better one day.

   It’ll all be GONE ONE DAY,

   He’d felt like he was suffocating, 

   And when it all finally burst open,

   Felt cracks and crumble beneath his fingers and under his feet and nothingness, 

   His heart is racing; he can’t hear his pulse in his ears, but is it because it doesn’t beat, or it beats too fast? 

   He sees red; he hears ringing and crashing, trembling of the very core of a planet as it shrivels in the face of his will;

   And isn’t that

   Lovely?

   Clarity reaches his retinas, and feels like he’s suffocating again;

   Chronoa’s hands are on his numb, electric shoulders. He feels new ground under his feet.

   Now, is usually when he would collapse. Meet knees to rock and pass out. That’s what he recalls; that’s all he ever recalls.

   Now?

   Now, why doesn’t he still?

   All he does is blankly stare up, the debris of a once-whole space rock are still scattering in a brilliant and foreboding glow in the sky. Chronoa is saying his name; but he doesn’t even know how to respond, let alone that he should.

   Why doesn’t he ache? Why doesn’t he fall?

   Why does warmth--not of fire, not of hate, not of anger or fury--but some churning and wretched comfort, of all things, why of all things? permeate his chest and settle like something heavy and vile has made a new home, permanent and immobile and now stable like a new heartbeat, deep-seated in his veins?

   He’s relieved, and disgusted, and excited, and appalled; 

   He’s dizzy. 

   Teetering lightspeed between the deepest pits of despair he’s ever felt, and yet the vastest expanses of nonequivalent and ultimate satisfaction--will do that to someone.

#drabbles #kiverse #gramma #pavlova

[demiwitch527]

 Chapter 1

"Does it count as saving someone's life if you refrain from killing them?​​​​​​​​​​​​"

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY ~ 1975

Isabelle was sat in Professor Slughorn's Potions class, which was held in a cold and not particularly large classroom in the dungeons with walls that were lined with pickled animals in glass jars. Isabelle shivered, though she wasn't sure if it was due to the cold or the dead animals that surrounded her. Maybe both.

For the past months, Professor Slughorn had been having them brew various potions in preparation for the O.W.L. exams that they were supposed to take at the end of the year. Today was no different. However, he did have them split up into pairs for this lesson, which wasn't a usual thing he had them do. The only plus side was that they were allowed to choose their partners.

The Slytherins shared Potions with those insufferable Gryffindors. Isabelle had no idea what she would've done if she got stuck with Sirius Black. She didn't want a repeat of the absolute worst Defense Against the Dark Arts class she had ever had. Her blood boiled at just the memory of it.

If she had any other options, she would've chosen to do the potion alone. She didn't need any help when it came to Potions, that was her area of expertise, after all, but Professor Slughorn wouldn't allow her. So she needed someone remotely competent.

Her choice had been Severus Snape, a fellow Slytherin, who had a stringy, pallid look about him, like a plant kept in the dark. Isabelle didn't mind working with him much. It absolutely pained Isabelle to admit it, but Severus was pretty talented with potions—for a half-blood that is. Besides, her brother had taken Severus under his wing before he graduated. Surely there was something about him that Lucius saw was worth while.

Though, Isabelle wouldn't really know, she didn't really bother much with making friends during her years at Hogwarts. She'd always thought that her time was best spent doing something else. But don't ever mistake her for being ignorant of her surroundings.

The current potion Professor Slughorn had instructed them to brew was a Draught of Peace. A potion that was supposed to relieve anxiety and agitation. Ironically enough, it was a very difficult potion to brew. One mistake can have drastic consequences, which could take the form of a deep, irreversible sleep or an explosion.

This made her slightly appreciative of Severus's assistance. Slightly.

Severus continued to stir the potion as Isabelle added more powdered porcupine quills and continued to do so until the potion finally turned white. Once the potion started to simmer, Severus lowered the heat while Isabelle started adding the last ingredient, exactly seven drops of hellebore.

"Is that it?" She asked Severus once she was done adding the hellebore.

"Yes," he said, scanning the instructions in his textbook. "We just have to wait for it to turn a turquoise blue colour."

Surely enough, the batch began to change it's shade into that exact color. But before it was finished the liquid began to bubble. Wafts of sulfurous odoured smoke rose from the cauldron. Isabelle could already tell what was about to happen before it did.

"Duck!" She yelled.

She and Severus dove under their work table just as the cauldron exploded. There were gasps and screams coming from their classmates, followed by the sound of glass breaking and chairs toppling. Isabelle had to pull her robes up to her nose to prevent herself from inhaling any more of the putrid odour that was now spreading throughout the room.

A few moments had passed before Isabelle deemed the situation safe enough. She and Severus cautiously got out from under the worktable and at last saw the disastrous effect the sudden explosion of their potion had caused. The classroom was a mess. Broken glass and spilled potions littered the ground and tables. There were some parchments that had caught fire along with a few of the students's robes, like Severus who was frantically trying to extinguish his robe sleeve.

On the bright side, at least they didn't put anyone to sleep.

Isabelle glared accusingly at Severus. "What the bloody hell happened?" She demanded. "We followed the instructions exactly. What went wrong?"

"How am I supposed to know?" He said. "You could've miscounted the drops of hellebore, as far as I'm aware."

"Now, now let's all calm down." Professor Slughorn said, but Isabelle wasn't having any of it.

This pathetic half-blood had just caused her her grade for the day. She swore that she would throw him off the Astronomy Tower if this caused that Gryffindor mudblood, Lily Evans, to take Isabelle's place at the top of this class.

"Feel free to correct me if I'm mistaken, but it sounded as if you were blaming me for this disaster." Isabelle tried to keep her voice as level as she could.

Controlling her temper wasn't an easy task, however, she needed to take her position into account. It wouldn't look good for the newly appointed Slytherin prefect to scream at her fellow student, especially when there was a professor present.

But how dare this diluted breed accuse her of messing up the potion. This was what she gets for working with second class wizards. She most definitely learned her lesson.

Just then she heard sniggers coming from the back row of the class. She whirled toward the sound and surely enough, Sirius Black and James Potter were trying—and failing—not to laugh. Remus Lupin rolled his eyes at his friends. He was at the worktable next to Sirius and James's with Peter Pettigrew, who seemed to be trying desperately to disappear into the shadows once he saw that Isabelle had noticed his friends and was now making her way to them.

"Black, you son of a bitch." She scoffed, sending a murderous glare toward her least favourite Black. "I should have known this was your doing."

Sirius smirked, shrugging. "Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Either way, you can't prove anything, Malfoy. I wasn't anywhere near your cauldron."

There was a reason Sirius had suggested to his mates that they sat further away from Isabelle and Snivellus. He could barely contain his laughter as he watched the pair hurriedly hide under their table and the class spread out in a frenzy. And all that thanks to a little jinx he had cast on Isabelle's cauldron.

He smirked as Isabelle gave her a death glare he knew all too well. After all, he had been on the receiving end of it for the past four years.

"Ms. Malfoy, I know that you are upset, but kindly watch your language." Professor Slughorn said, before clearing his throat. "Unfortunately, Mr. Black is correct. You don't have any evidence that he had deliberately sabotaged your potion. I'm afraid I have no choice but to fail you and Mr. Snape for today's class."

Hearing himself be called Mr. Black sent a shiver down Sirius's spine. He didn't like being addressed in the same manner as his father. But even that wasn't enough to dampen his good mood. He just hit two birds with one bloody stone. He was having a perfect day.

"But—" Isabelle tried to argue.

"No buts. Better luck tomorrow, Ms. Malfoy." he said before returning to the front of the classroom. "Oh and kindly tidy up the mess."

Isabelle glared at Sirius even harder. And as soon as Slughorn was out of earshot.

"This. Isn't. Over." She threatened through gritted teeth.

Sirius just winked at her. "We'll just see about that, doll."

She turned away from him with a huff and started cleaning up the mess caused by her potion. Snivellus fixed Sirius and James with a nasty look before helping Isabelle.

Once it was only the four of them, James almost doubled over in laughter. He clasped Sirius's shoulder as he wiped a tear from his eye.

"That was ingenious, Padfoot." He said.

Sirius howled in laughter. "All in a day's work, mate."

Remus sighed in exasperation. "Idiots. Idiots is what you are."

Later that day, Isabelle laid on her bed in her dorm room at the Slytherin dungeon. She was revising for tomorrow's Potions class to make sure she wouldn't make a mistake. Thanks to Sirius, she needed a to get a perfect score tomorrow if she wanted to maintain her grades. And to top it all of, she still needed to think of the perfect revenge for Sirius. She wasn't going to let him get away with that little stunt.

Without any warning, the door to her dorm flew open as Regulus Black came rushing in, sweaty and still dressed in his green and silver Quidditch uniform. That's right, Black. Regulus was Sirius's little brother. But unlike his arrogant twat of a brother, Regulus was quite easy to get along with. He was actually like a brother to Isabelle.

Isabelle almost jumped out of her bed in surprise.

"Blimey, Regulus! Don't you know how to knock?" She chided, sending him a small glare.

Boys weren't technically allowed anywhere near the girl's dormitories, but for some reason Regulus had managed to figure out a way to get past the enchantment keeping the boys away. Which allowed him burst into Isabelle's dorm anytime he wanted, much to her frustration.

"Sorry," he said. "But I heard what happened during your Potions class today and I may just have the perfect idea on how you can get back at my brother."

Isabelle closed her book and sat up on her bed. This should be good. Regulus was a very clever wizard, he was just, more often than not, overshadowed by his infuriating brother. What Isabelle couldn't wrap her mind around, however, was how that was the case. Sirius was only more rambunctious and definitely much more of an arse than Regulus, who was quiet and more gentleman like. But when it came down to looks and smarts, Isabelle would say that the two were almost an even match.

"Well?" Isabelle prodded. "What's your brilliant idea?"

Regulus sat at the foot of her bed. He reached into his bag and brought out a box of tiny marble like things that Isabelle knew all too well.

"Hold on, are those the Prewett brother's dungbombs?" Isabelle asked.

She would never forget those horrid tiny things. In their fourth year, the Prewett brothers made their own version of the dungbombs sold at the Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop. Ordinary dungbombs always left a person's hands dirty when handled, so they gave it a thin glass like exterior. They also made it smell extra putrid.

One time, Sirius had placed one of those under the cushion of her chair during Divination class. As soon as Isabelle took a seat, the glass marble container broke under her weight and the classroom was filled with the smell of crap, which of course came from Isabelle's chair. It was absolutely mortifying. She got back at Sirius for that by using the Dancing Feet jinx on him later on, which didn't wear off for an entire day. She even heard that his legs wouldn't stop moving even as he slept.

"Yes, but with a few of my own modifications, of course." Regulus said proudly. "I replaced the potion mist inside with skunk spray. I also made the containers extra fragile, so even just the normal amount of pressure could cause them to shatter."

Isabelle took the box from him, impressed and slightly pleasantly surprised. "When did you have the time to do all this?"

Regulus rolled his grey eyes playfully. "I have a life outside of you girls, you know."

"Sure you do." Isabelle ruffled his jet black hair, causing Regulus to grab her hand and pull it away from his head.

"Will you stop doing that." He complained, still holding Isabelle's hand in his. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"Whatever you say." Isabelle chuckled. "So what's your plan with these?"

"We were thinking of maybe planting them in Black's dorm room." Emma Vanity, one of Isabelle's roommates and probably her closest friend, said as she entered their room. Like Regulus, Emma had just come from the Slytherin team's Quidditch practice and was still in her uniform. "Sirius Black, just so were clear."

"That goes without saying, Emma." Regulus said. "I would never plant skunk bombs in my own dorm room. I'm not daft."

"Wait a minute, you're in on this?" Isabelle asked Emma, gently pulling her hand from Regulus's grip. "I thought you didn't like getting involved with my feud with Sirius."

Emma snorted as she released her choppy brown hair from her ponytail. "You weren't the only one that failed today's Potions class because of Black's prank." She glowered. "I'm fucking out for revenge."

"Anyway," Regulus said. "There's one problem, however. How are you gonna get inside the Gryffindor common room?" He asked Isabelle. "It's not like you could just knock on their door and they'd let you in."

"Imperius curse?" Emma suggested. "Lucius taught you the spell last summer, right, Belle? Use it on one of those Gryffindors. That'll save us a whole lot of trouble."

"There's no bloody way I'm using the Imperius curse for a prank, Em. It's too risky." Isabelle said. "Magic always leaves traces, especially dark magic. There's a chance that they'll follow those traces back to me, if ever they discover the spell's involvement."

"She's got a point." Regulus agreed.

"So what now?" Emma asked.

Just as Emma said those words, an idea popped into Isabelle's head. She knew how she would be getting into Gryffindor tower.

"Don't worry about it." Isabelle said. "Just leave that part to me."

Sirius lazily lounged on the floor of his dorm room. James was trying to get him to attend the Quidditch practice. But he wasn't feeling up to it today. He was never even interested in trying out for the team in the first place, but he lost a bet with James last year and the deal was that he tries out for Quidditch. He didn't know that he would actually get selected.

"Our first match is in a few weeks, mate, and it's against Slytherin, we need to be in top shape." James said.

Out of all the classes and activities in Hogwarts, Quidditch was the only thing James ever took seriously, especially after he became the team's captain. Which was why he's getting so worked up about practice. But, like Sirius had mentioned, he didn't want to play Quidditch and especially not against Slytherin. He much preferred to put them in their place in other, more unpredictable ways.

"We'll be fine, Prongs." Sirius said, placing his arms behind his head. "Tell him, Moony."

Remus looked up from his book, he was sitting on his bed as he tried to block out his arguing friends. "Don't get me involved in this."

Sirius threw a small pillow at Remus. "Coward!" He said.

He blocked the pillow with his arm. "And I'm out." Remus said as he got up from his bed. "I'll be in the library if you need me. Good luck." he told James before heading out.

After Remus was gone, that's when Sirius noticed that they were missing one Marauder.

"Where's Wormtail?" He asked.

"Hmm?" James said, apparently also just realizing Peter wasn't present. "Probably already at the pitch." He said dismissively. Then seeming to remember that they were arguing, he said. "Don't try to change the subject!"

"I'm not feeling well, Prongs." Sirius said as he attempted to feign being ill.

Sirius and James argued for a few more moments until Sirius finally agreed to attend the practice. Sirius reluctantly got up from the floor and changed into his Quidditch uniform. It was scarlet and gold, like the rest of team's, with his last name, Black, written at back above the number 5, his player number.

"I fucking hate you." He muttered dejectedly once he rejoined James.

"Chin up, Padfoot. Look at the bright side." James said. "There'll be ladies watching us practice."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Maybe you'll even get lucky and find Malfoy there." James added. "Just imagine, hexing her twice in one day. She'll surely explode."

He smirked. "Now that's a thought."

Seeing Isabelle Malfoy's infuriated face after every prank was what always made Sirius's day. It's what made Hogwarts exceptionally interesting. They've been at it for years now, yet he never gets tired of seeing her fume in anger. The fact that the more he pranked her, the more she hated him and the more likely she was not to marry him, like their parents wanted, had turned into just a bonus years ago.

However, he knew that Isabelle never really involved herself in Quidditch. The last time he saw her out in the Quidditch pitch that he could think of was back in their third year, when she went all the way down there to support Regulus when he tried out for the Seeker position on the Slytherin Quidditch team. But hey, a guy could hope.

Sirius and James made their way down the spiral staircase of Gryffindor tower to the common room, where some students were relaxing after a long day of classes. Most of the girls looked their way once they heard the two Marauders coming down the stairs.

James's hand immediately went up to his hair and he casually messed it up—well, more than it already was. A few of the girls sighed dreamily, though Sirius knew that James was really just showing off for one girl in particular.

Lily Evans.

Unfortunately for his best mate, Evans was obviously not interested in him and she seemed to always hang out with Snivellus.

Sirius bit back a laugh at his friend's failed attempts to catch Evans's attention, completely ignoring the girls staring hopefully at him. Sometimes it impressed him how persistent James was to gain Evans's attention, but most of the time it's just a bit pathetic if you asked Sirius. He couldn't even imagine how a girl could have such an effect on a guy, but he was sure that that would never happen to him. He swore it on his mother's grave.

"Bad luck, Prongs." He whispered to James as they opened the back of the Fat Lady's portrait. "Evans is still ignoring you. Face it, mate, she'll never go out with you."

"Piss off, Padfoot!" James said.

They opened the portrait door and before either of them could step out, an all black cat with green eyes rushed through the door. Sirius had to raise his left foot to prevent the cat from hitting his leg, head first.

"Meow!" The cat hissed angrily at him as it passed.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder, and saw the cat rushing up the spiral staircase leading up to the boys dormitory. Strange. He can't remember ever seeing that cat before. But he just shrugged it off before stepping out into the lavish Gryffindor landing. Maybe someone had just gotten themself a new pet. Yup, that's most definitely the case.

"Looks like we're about to have some good luck today, mate." James said as they headed toward the grand staircase, referring to the black cat that had just passed them.

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x oc #sirius x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #sirius black x slytherin #sirius x slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black imagine #regulus black x oc #slytherin #gryffindor x slytherin #slytherin x gryffindor #james potter #remus lupin #lily evans #marauders fic #marauders era #marauders #marauders era fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #hp #hp marauders #lucius malfoy #malfoy family

[spnskinnyballs]

Mr Stranger

Summary- It was purely by coincidence that you were paired up with this particular mystery man in a random chat roulette site on a Thursday evening. (Not one of your finer moments) Charming his way into your little life as Mr Stranger how long can you two really keep the anonymity between you?

Word Count - 2,282

Warnings - Sadness, panic

Part Five

Series Masterlist/ My Masterlist

Your day had been filled with naps and Supernatural reruns, really it was the dream but you couldn’t enjoy the simplicity of it. Your Mr Stranger had never text you back. Sure with being on night shifts it had meant that you were texting each other at odd times but this was a long gap for the two of you.

Yesterday when you got home from your final night shift you talked to each other and fell asleep on the sofa. Once you woke you made yourself something to eat you tried to fall asleep once more. Staying up all night had messed with your body clock and you couldn’t wait to be back to normal so you spent most of the night falling in and out of sleep. Stumbling out of bed the next morning the short naps had continued although you tried to force yourself to eat at normal times and by around 5pm you were already feeling better.

Well, better physically. Your phone still lay silent next to you without a response. Part of you obviously thought that you were being stupid, he didn't text you for a day and a half, that was nothing but for the two of you it was everything. You hadn’t gone that long without talking since your first conversation all those weeks ago.

Anger began to fill it’s way inside as you realised that this was the first time you wanted him to be there for you for emotional support and he wasn’t.

He had other things to do. Better things to do.Things that didn’t involve you.

He was too busy doing whatever he was doing that he couldn’t spare 30 seconds to fire off a ‘Sorry your favourite patient died i’m thinking of you’ text.

Opening up the back door and sitting inside the frame you let the fresh air wash over you as you tried to calm yourself. You knew that you were overreacting but you were sad,hurt and emotional. All you wanted was your friend to show that he cared about you and he was nowhere to be found.

Leaning your head against the cold plastic of the frame you looked out over the garden and watched the birds dancing in the trees above, it was peaceful. It felt calm despite the battle of emotions inside you and you willed that calmness to invade your body, to slow your mind down, to just let everything stop.

As you sat outside a thought took center stage in your mind, you liked this guy. Not i like him as a friend or as a fuck buddy but you liked him. The only time that you could ever remember feeling this upset when someone ghosted you was when your ex did it to you. Someone that you were dating, even when Lucy ignored your texts you moaned at her but you never felt betrayed by it.

Waking up in the morning the first thing that you did was open your phone to see if there was a message from him, as soon as anything happened in your day your first thought was to tell him. You two talked every single day multiple times a day, you had sex, albeit cyber sex, regularly. You made jokes and laughed at each other for hours about nothing in particular without ever seeing each other’s faces.

If you were doing this face to face it would be exactly like you were dating.

Shit.

It would be exactly like you were dating.

Fuck.

You were falling in love with a man you had never even met.

As all the realisations came crashing down into you it was like a weight was pressing down onto your chest, christ, it was like you could barely even breathe. Leaning forward you twisted yourself around until you were on your hands and knees just inside your house, oh my god you were in love with him.

You didn’t even know his real name?!

Leaning your head down until your forehead was pressed into the floorboards you swore under you breath and rocked backwards and forwards until your breathing started to calm itself down. Rolling over onto your back you looked up at the ceiling taking in the enormity of all of this, you were in love with a man you had never met, who’s name you didn’t know, had no idea what he looked like and he was currently ghosting you. Awesome.

What the hell were you going to do.

After what felt like forever you pushed yourself up to your feet and shut the back door, making your way into the kitchen where you left your phone you picked it up ready to write out a text to your mr stranger. What the hell were you going to say though? ‘Hey, so i think i maybe kinda love you even though i know absolutely nothing about you, call me x’ Fucking hell that would go over well.

Nibbling on your thumb nail you scrolled through some of the old messages that you two shared, looking at the ease that you two had with one another brought a smile to your face. Sure this was different but you guys always fell into conversations easily, this shouldn’t be that difficult right? A girl can dream at least.

Shaking out your hands you began to type and delete and retype until you had something you thought you were okay with.

‘Hey hope you’re okay you kinda fell off the edge of the planet there, i didn’t say anything did i? Anyway i don’t know if you noticed or not but i’ve been a bit emotional and sleep deprived so just ignore me if i’m overreacting or whatever haha. Miss you Mr Stranger x’

That was as good as it was going to get. Hitting send you turned your phone upside down and turned around to focus on a different task at hand, what on earth were you going to make yourself to eat? Opening up and searching through the cupboards you decided on some veggie rice with some sticky chicken, placing the ingredients you could muster onto the side you started chopping the veg when you heard your phone go off. Hesitantly walking over to it you lifted it to discover a message from your very own mr stranger sitting in your inbox, nibbling on your lower lip you opened it up and dropped the phone back on the counter. Why were you so nervous?!

‘Hey there. Yeah sorry i did, listen i’m really sorry that i disappeared when you had just told me that you were sad. It wasn’t anything to do with that i promise and i hope that you’re feeling better about it all now, that was a dick move of me and i’m sorry. I just took a step back but i’m here now, i missed you Mrs Stranger x’

Smiling to yourself relief filled you that you didn’t say anything to scare him away and he was back but why did he need to take a step back from you? Something about that sentence didn’t sit right in your stomach. The anxiety that you had been feeling began to bubble back up so you turned on netflix focusing on friends to aid to your distraction as you wrote out a reply.

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s okay i was just worrying about nothing. So listen, i feel like a dumbass but i need to talk to you about something. So i’ve been having so much fun talking to you and getting to know you and ‘having fun’ together haha and i guess that i kinda like you a little bit Mr Stranger, so i was just wondering if you wanted to do something more than what we’ve been doing? It’s okay if you don’t want to i just would have hated it if i never asked x’

Hitting send you groaned out loud and hid your face in the corner of your elbow, why did you feel like such a teenage girl. Rolling the phone over once more so it was face down you turned back to making yourself some dinner while constantly telling yourself that it was going to be fine. If he turned back and said no that’s totally fine, you would just carry on like you had been or you wouldn’t talk as much anymore and that would be okay. You really wanted him to say yes though, you couldn’t deny it.

By the time you allowed yourself to check your phone again your rice was almost done and the chicken was just simmering away so you had a few minutes spare.

Okay. Breathe.

Turning over your phone you found more than one message gracing your homescreen and by just the few words that you could see they sounded positive. With a smile on your face and a beating chest you played with your screen until you could read them in their entirety.

‘Okay, wow, don’t feel like a dumbass you’re not! I’ve been having a great time talking to you too and if we’re being honest part of the reason why i didn’t text you back was because i was realising just how much i liked you too. Okay now i feel like a dumbass haha.’

With shaky breaths and a smile you opened the second message.

‘So yes i do want to do something more, i know you might think it’s big but i would love to meet you. I’m actually travelling for work next weekend and if you wanted to we could do something then, just to see how we get on in real life without being in each others home towns or anything. How does that sound to you? I would really love to take you out on a real date x’

Oh my god he wanted to take you out on a date. He felt the exact same way?! This was amazing. Were you actually going to jump on a plane and go out to meet him in a random city though? Thinking it through it did make sense, even though you liked this guy you didn’t feel comfortable just giving him your address so maybe he felt the same way. It was considerate and sweet. Your Mr Stranger was so sweet. Smiling to yourself you wrote out a response to him.

‘You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that, i would love to go out on a date with you. Might be a little bit awkward to start with though seeing as how we’ve never even seen each other haha I’m not saying no to this weekend but it’s soon and i’m nervous. Maybe we could finally share our faces with each other or talk on the phone before we make a decision like that first?’

Sending the text you turned your attention back to a pan that was threatening to boil over. While you were nervous about actually meeting up you were patting yourself on the back for being practical and not allowing yourself just to say yes i’ll fly across the country to see you. Turning off the pan you reached over for your buzzing phone, the excitement inside couldn’t wait just for a moment.

‘I’m glad, i really want to do the whole dinner drinks thing with you. I get it, i kinda dived in straight to meeting but yeah if you want to send selfies first just to put a face to the name?’

Smiling at the kindness in his words you turned your camera on and turned your back to the hob, taking a smiling selfie with the pans in the background you attached it to a message. It wasn’t the prettiest photo of you but that didn’t matter, what mattered was that it was a real photo not one that could have easily been copied off google. Writing a caption underneath you hit send and made your way with the rice over to the side to start dishing up before it got burnt. ‘Selfies sound really good, i’m cooking dinner but hi so I’m Y/N its really nice to meet you, your turn! x’

Dishing up your dinner you couldn’t stop smiling, you were going to finally be able to put a face to a name and a name to him as well. This time next week you could have had dinner with your perfect stranger and be an actual couple, even with the worries and doubts that niggled at your brain your couldn’t quell the happiness and hope that came right along with it. The second that your phone buzzed you dropped your pan and opened up the app.

‘I told you that you were beautiful. It’s really nice to meet you Y/N, i’m Jensen x’ Reading his text a squeal left your lips, he thought that you were beautiful and Jensen was such a nice name, it suited everything you knew about him. As you held the phone in your hand a picture message began to load, holding your breath a little bit you waited for it to become clear and when it did your heart stopped.

It was a selfie of a beautiful man with green eyes and freckles smiling softly at you.

You knew this man.

You told your stranger in passing how hot you thought this man was.

This man who you had talked to every single day just grabbed a photo of someone who he knew you thought was hot and copied and pasted it straight to you.

This wasn’t him.

He lied to you.

He lied to you this entire time.

Please send me an ASK if you would like to be added or removed from tags.

@shellydemon @anotherwaywardsister @ravenangel33 @dean-winchesters-bacon @bookoffracturedescapes @pisces-cutie @sp8b8 @tumbler-tidbits @torn-and-frayed @kaz11283 @mannls @supernatural-bellawinchester

@mermaidwannabe-clc @novaddictx @dixleeji @curly-haired-disaster @waywardbaby @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @pensysto @jenbarb10 @topthis808 @mirandaaustin93 @keepcalmandbeajunkie @lullabylike @jamielea81 @adorkabletiff91 @perpetualabsurdity @onceuponathreetwoone @castielsssdean @diariesofthebeautyobsessed @missbosstown @queenslandlover-93 @musiclovinchic93 @deangirl7695 @ashleydarlene92 @thorins-queen-of-erebor

#jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen imagine #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles imagine #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fic #g writes #mr stranger

[kriskebob-blog]

Day 4: Rainy Saturdays are for cooking (and Netflix)

Hi all. As I write this, it’s the winding down of a gorgeous (and HOT) sunny Sunday here in CT but when I woke up yesterday, I actually thought it still had to be 6am or earlier because it was so dark in our room. Turns out it was actually 8:30am and just pouring buckets outside. Good day to stay inside and cook some comfort food items. 

My second breakfast recipe from Dr. G’s cookbook was definitely simpler than the burrito bake: French toast with a berry drizzle. I also wanted to make a fruit compote for an extra topping. The cookbook’s recipe is titled as a pear compote, but pears are out of season right now, and honestly why would you put a few sad-looking Bartletts in your grocery basket when there are farmstand peaches just up the road? To my delight, when I flipped open the cookbook on Saturday morning I read a line I hadn’t noticed before: you could vary it up by using apples, peaches, or plums in place of the pears. Perfect! 

Sam was still sleeping (he tends to be a bit more of a late riser compared to me on most days). I enjoyed the solitude for a bit and diced up four peaches as I listened to the rain. The compote was honestly super easy to throw together once the peaches were chopped. I threw them in a pot with some water, blended lemon, raisins, date sugar, vanilla extract, and some spices. I left that to simmer while I prepped the plant-based version of a dipping mixture for the toast. And in case you’re wondering, no, I did NOT find salt-free bread at the grocery store. I found the whole wheat bread that had the lowest amount of sugar/sodium and least amount of funky-sounding ingredients on the label and called it a day. (As an aside, Sam had thought he’d be required to give up toast completely during these two weeks and was really excited when he came home on Friday and saw a loaf of bread sitting on the counter, it was kind of cute.)   

I had to make my own almond milk for the French toast dipping mixture. Dr. G. doesn’t approve of store-brought almond milk, too many chemicals or whatever. Not a whole food! Luckily, I already had almond butter from my first grocery shopping extravaganza of the week. All you had to do by Dr. G’s standard was blend a couple tablespoons of almond butter with some water and ta-da, you’ve got almond milk that’s apparently less likely to kill you. For the French toast, Dr. G. instructed that I needed to mix some ground flaxseed with a bit of warm water and then add it in with the almond milk. More date sugar, vanilla extract, a bit of turmeric and cinnamon, and boom. 

Sam was awake by now and I immediately put him on toasting duty. He’s become the defacto breakfast-cooking king in our household over the past 5 years, which is odd really when he’s less the morning person of the two of us. But he genuinely enjoys whipping up eggs, bacon, French toast, etc. on the weekends, and I’ve certainly never been about to stop him. He got out our griddle and began dipping the bread while I set about making the “berry drizzle.” Dr. G advised I use this as a condiment for the French toast in place of maple syrup. It has two ingredients: 1 cup of fresh or frozen berries and a couple of tablespoons of date syrup. 

The date syrup became yet another case of my assuming I’d be able to throw together a Dr. G. sauce or condiment quickly in my blender, only to discover I actually needed to soak a key ingredient in hot water for an hour or more. Oops. Oh well. I’d use a tablespoon of agave nectar in its place and that would just have to do. 

Here’s the berry drizzle in a super cute pitcher our family friend Kelly gave us as an engagement gift years ago:

Adorable, right? Ignore whatever that spot is on our table. Anywho, I can report that Sam didn’t love toasting the bread on our griddle without using any oil spray. The slices did stick a little but we salvaged most of it. The peach compote had reduced nicely by then and we were in business. 

It was super delicious. The peach compote is definitely what made the dish, although the berry drizzle was tasty as well. Both were made with local and in-season fruit so it’s pretty hard to go wrong there. 

Sam and I settled in for a lazy morning of Netflix (we’re watching Stranger Things - second watch for me, first time for Sam!). By 11 I had to admit to myself that I really needed to get my ass to the gym, even though it was still miserable outside. I moaned and groaned at Sam (he had gone the night before and wouldn’t be accompanying me) but eventually got my ass into gear. I was curious: I’ve been eating plant-based for, you know, a whole two and a half days now. Would I have more energy at the gym? Would I just be able to sense the power of a thousand vegetables coursing through my veins on the treadmill? 

The answer: NOPE. I actually felt a bit more winded than usual which, of course, set off an anxiety thought spiral in my brain. Damn it. Maybe this diet isn’t actually good for me. Am I not getting enough protein? People always harass vegans about their protein, maybe it’s a legitimate concern! 

I made it through my workout perfectly fine, though, just a little more tired than usual. I trudged home and showered, and then Sam and I had leftover spinach-mushroom burritos and salad for lunch. The weather still sucked and we didn’t have any plans, so we watched some more Netflix but eventually split up to do our own things. I wanted to read more of Dr. G’s How Not to Die book. It was a huge book, after all, and the clock was ticking on my library loan. I settled in but was having some trouble focusing. I just felt tired. Again I had the thought that maybe this diet wasn’t actually for me. That I wasn’t getting enough or x or y since making this switch a few days ago. I stood up and eyed our pantry shelves. I grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds and ate them, but that didn’t feel quite satisfying (go figure). I noticed the giant container of unsalted roasted almonds I’d bought the day before and decided to take the plunge and open them up. I’m used to eating nuts from those giant mixed nuts containers you get at the grocery store, the ones where even the “33% LESS sodium!!!” version is still salty as hell. So I wasn’t sure what to expect exactly when I tried these unsalted almonds, but I was pleasantly surprised to realize that I actually like the taste of almonds when it’s not completely masked by salt. I grabbed a handful and then went to the fridge and got a handful of blueberries. They tasted amazing together. I happily settled back into my chair and felt myself perking up like a wilted plant that had been watered. By the time Sam came upstairs maybe half an hour later, the clouds had lifted outside and in my brain. We went for a walk. I suddenly felt more energetic than I’d felt all day. Maybe it had just been the dreary weather bringing me down. 

We returned home and decided that for the first time, we would try the Monster expansion pack of our beloved Harry Potter tabletop game. It took a long time just to set it up and try to figure out all of the new rules. We then decided to get dinner prepped because it would need some simmering time on the stove: it was gumbo night, y’all! I was excited because I love the flavor profile of Cajun/Creole cuisine. It was pretty easy to prep. Some chopped onion, bell pepper, celery, and garlic went into our Dutch oven with one cup of the homemade veggie broth I’d made the other day. I quickly thawed out the frozen okra in a separate small saucepot and eventually that went into the Dutch oven too with some diced tomatoes (BPA-free, thank you very much~), diced zucchini, and lots of delicious seasoning. We then added quite a bit of broth - everything that was left of the batch I’d made. It was a really nice, thick broth since I had pulverized all of the veggies the water had steeped in. We brought everything to a boil, threw in a can of red kidney beans (not BPA-free, alas), and simmered the gumbo for about half an hour. When it was done, we served it over brown rice, per Dr. G’s suggestion. 

Here’s a little pot action before we added in all of the broth and the beans:

And here’s the finished product:

The verdict?? SO GOOD! I loved it and actually got seconds. Sam liked it too; I don’t think he loved it quite as much as I did but then I’ve always been a bigger lover of Cajun food. Dr. G. claims his recipe makes four 1.25 cup servings, but it honestly made WAY more than that for us. I feel like his math was off... like, he accounted for the 6 cups of broth but not the fact that there were a ton of veggies and beans added in to the pot as well?? Not to mention the brown rice. But I’m not complaining, because I love the way it turned out, and it’ll be lunch for the next couple of days now. Oh, and I did salt the veggies a little bit when they were first steaming in the Dutch oven, and our Cajun-free seasoning was definitely NOT salt-free (salt is actually the first ingredient, lawl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯), so I’m sure that helped a bit. 

I think that’s really all there is to report! Other than the fact that we went back to our Harry Potter game after dinner and failed miserably. The creatures/villains completely murdered us on round 1. Oh well. Another day maybe... 

Cheers to what I think might be my shortest blog post yet. See you tomorrow! 

Gadget rec of the day: an electric griddle! We use it almost every weekend. Definitely had to wipe a trace coating of bacon grease from it today though... It’s a lifesaver for us especially since we have such a lousy stove. 

Music rec of the day: (Nothing But) Flowers by the Talking Heads

#food #foodblog #foodblogging #veganfood #plantbased #wholefoods #eatingplants

[tommoholland2013]

Words || Peter Parker

Word Count: 4.3k Warning(s): Angst, Angst, Angst... Mentions of cutting Note: I have had experience with this so I understand if it's a sensitive topic, as it is for me as well, but I did base the reader off of me (a little). Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader Request: Can u write a Pete Imagine for my bday? Where y/n and he were bff & one day they get into a BIG fight & Peter said smth REALLY BAD to her & made her cry & run away & she avoid him for weeks & then at homecoming(She has a long red or blue dress?u can pick the colour) Vulture kidnapped her & then took her to the building where the ceiling fell & she was trapped & Peter panicked because he couldn't hear her & then he saved her? I don't know if I make sense but thank u ❤️Love ur writing❤️ A/N: Enjoy, please. I worked so  hard to get this done lol Note II: I don't know about other schools, but at my school, we have homecoming about two months after the start of school, so that's the case here. Also, the reader already knows that Peter's spider-man, but she doesn't know that Peter's been pursuing Vulture (Adrien Toomes)

"Hey, May." Y/N greeted as she walked into the small apartment.

"Oh, Y/N! Peter's just in his room." May informed Y/N over her shoulder from her position in the kitchen.

"Figured as much. Thanks, May." Y/N smiled at May. Peter and Y/N had been best friends for as long as they could remember. Y/N visited their apartment almost daily, so much so that May ended up giving Y/N a key to the apartment, and Peter visited Y/N's home frequently enough for her mother to give him a key as well.

As much as Y/N wanted to believe that Peter was just a best friend to her, he was far more than that. Her heart always skipped a beat when he looked at her, and melted when he smiled. She loved his hugs, and his cuddles when she needed them. She knew her feelings would never be reciprocated, and yet she still hung into them. Clung to them like a source of air, a source of living. Y/N walked down the small hall and to Peter's door.

"Hey, loser. I'm coming in." Y/N called through the wooden door. She heard May's laughter before she flung the door open. She found Peter lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. She dropped her bag by the door and flipped onto the bed, well, really onto him. Peter let out a small groan and Y/N smiled triumphantly.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Y/N asked as she rolled over onto the spot next to Peter and lulled her head to the side to look at him as he spoke.

"Nothing." Peter answered back quietly and monotonously as he refused to meet Y/N's eyes. Y/N had noticed his odd behavior of recent, and so had Michelle and Ned. But unlike the other two, Y/N had a hunch, because there was one secret that Peter never shared with anyone. Y/N only knew because she had been present and witnessed it all.

"You've been thinking a lot about 'nothing' lately. Is everything okay?" Y/N asked, concern furrowing her brows.

"I'm fine." Peter answered hastily and sharply again.

"Are you sure?" Y/N pushed a little more. She knew Peter didn't want to talk about it, but she also knew he tended to suppress his emotions until they built up and eventually caved in, taking him down with them.

"I said, I'm fine." Peter snapped.

Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion. She knew Peter got uncomfortable with the subject, but he had no need to lash out.

"I was just wondering. Peter I know what month is coming up..." Y/N trailed off.

"Jesus, Y/N. Can't I just think in silence? Does there absolutely have to be something wrong with me, for me to want to just... think? You always feel the need to bring it up, even when I don't ask you to. I said I'm fine. Why can't you just take that, and be okay with it?" Peter snapped as he sat up. Y/N followed suit.

"Because you're not fine." Y/N answered back quietly.

"What the hell do you know about being fine? You're never fine half the time, just look at your wrist. How in the hell would you ever know if someone else was or wasn't fine?" Y/N sat silent, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Peter's  words hurt, pierced heavily through her heart like a knife. She knew she was sensitive, and she knew she had self-esteem matters to mend, and that that was what Peter was referring to, but she never thought he'd say something so hurtful.

"I know when you're not okay, because you're my best friend. And I can tell when my best friend is okay and when he isn't." Y/N bit back as she withheld her heavy tears.

"Just stop trying to pretend like you can fix everything, Y/N. I'm fine. I don't need your useless pity, or you using me and Aunt May as your personal sob story to cling to. I can handle myself." Peter spat venomously at Y/N. As she processed Peter's harsh words, a wave of unforgiving anger crashed upon her. Y/N's tongue twisted in her mouth, fighting with the words that tried to claw their way out. She lost the fight and eventually, words began to tumble out. Vexed syllables flowered into dozens more, and soon Y/N was saying things to Peter she never saw herself saying to him.

"How dare you? You asshole." Y/N stood up with force from the bed. "What, you think I don't know I'm not okay half of the time? You think I don't know that I have my own issues to work out? Do you think I am completely and utterly clueless about my own unstable emotional state? You think I don't fucking know?" Y/N paused, her words simmered in the angry, thick atmosphere of the small room. It wasn't long before she continued her angry speech. "You selfish, ungrateful prick. Of course I know I have shit to deal with, and clearly, so do you. Here I am, being the one friend who's been with you through it all, and has also been through her own things, may I remind you, still standing as tall as I can and trying my absolute best to be the one shoulder you can always lean on, no matter how weak I may be. Things at my own home have not gotten any better, and my emotional state deteriorates more and more with each passing day, but where am I? Here, with you, trying so hard to be the caring friend I know you need, no matter how much you deny it." Y/N paused, taking in another deep breath before continuing her anger spiral of words. "I get you're upset and that you hate talking about it, but you don't get to insult me. You don't get to get mad at me for caring about you. I'm sorry for caring, Peter. Obviously you don't need anyone other than Aunt May to care about you. And that's completely fine, because as you have so kindly reminded me today, I have my own shit to work out. Goodbye, Peter."

With one final harsh glare at the boy she once called her best friend, Y/N collected her backpack and exited the room. Furious brown eyes followed her as she exited the room. Peter flopped back onto his bed with a loud sigh. His hands moved to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He had never seen Y/N so angry, and what the hell did he say to her? Why did he say those things to her?

"Y/N, will you be staying for dinner?" May asked as Y/N approached the door hastily.

"Uh no. I-I remembered I have a-a lot of homework to finish, and I have some tests to study for so, I'm actually just gonna head home, if that's all right." Y/N pulled the door open and pulled it shut too quickly to hear May's response. As she stormed further away from the apartment, her anger boiled more and more in her body, her temperature rising and her teeth grinding at an angered rhythm.

Peter was upset about the upcoming month, that was understandable by Y/N's standards as it held that day, which was considerably hard on both May and Peter. However, no matter how upset, Peter still  had no right by any standing to lash out at Y/N in the way he did. Although she wouldn't admit it then, Y/N's heart was broken. And to think, she had believed she was falling for him too. Y/N's heart ache converted to rage as she stormed down the street to her own place of living. The argument and harsh exchange of painful word replayed in an endless cycle in her mind. By the time she was pushing her key into the key hole of the door to her home, warm and irked tears begged to fall. With all her might, Y/N refused the tears, until she could no more.

Crying was something Y/N had grown all too familiar with, and it had its many causes. The blade, the empty feeling of depression, the overbearing concern brought about by anxiety, but never had it been the words said by Peter. Instead of taking a proper shower, under the steady stream of the water, Y/N's droplets fell just as naturally with those of the shower. His words hurt, and the fact that they came from him didn't better the situation.

No family to comfort, and her only truly close friend, Michelle, had been friends with Peter longer than she had been with Y/N, so naturally, Y/N feared that Michelle wouldn't side with her.

The black painted canvas of the sky was carefully decorated with the white dots of the stars so far. The moon hung proudly in the sea of stars in place of the sun, it's light casting a light shadow upon Y/N's face as she sat on her comfortable and designated spot on the fire escape. The loud sounds of the very alive nightlife of Queens echoed and reflected as Y/N looked out. The next day was going to be a particularly hard day.

Days melted to weeks, weeks sizzled to amount almost three weeks worth of no contact with Peter whatsoever. Peter and Y/N hadn't spoken since the day of their fight, and Y/N was doing worse than ever. Her grades had taken a nose dive, she didn't sleep and barely ate. Needless to say, Y/N was unhappy. After days of avoiding Ned, Michelle, and Peter in the hallways and classrooms, Michelle finally stopped Y/N while she attempted to dash out of her classroom to the library to hide herself in a book.

Michelle said Peter wasn't talking and wouldn't say anything about what happened. Michelle pestered Y/N until she finally spilled the twisted details of every word they had said to one another that day. Michelle, much to Y/N's surprise, sided with her and said that Peter had been overly quiet, and when he did speak, he only lashed out. After Michelle's declaration, Y/N went silent, and Michelle knew Y/N knew the reason for Peter's resent uncharacteristic behavior. Three days after they'd talked, Michelle and Y/N were seated at their usual lunch table. Michelle had said something funny, and Y/N couldn't help but laugh a hearty laugh, the beautiful sound echoing through the lunchroom and mixing with the buzzing chatter of other students in the lunch room. And though others disregarded the sound, Peter couldn't help but pick the sound out. The sound of Y/N's laughter always warmed his heart, this time though, it hardened it. With the day fast approaching, Peter talked less and less. He still went out in the dark of night to enjoy his night time adventures, but not with a certain weight on his shoulders. To add the glistening glitter to the pile of troubles weighing Peter down, May wasn't doing too good. She too had been down, and things had gotten particularly hard.

Too bad he didn't have the support of the only girl he loved, the only girl who understood him in a way no one else had. All that weaved through Peter's head; all as a result of the sound of Y/N's laughter.

Meanwhile, Y/N's laughter died down and she resumed her banter with Michelle, until out of the corner of her eye, Y/N saw a strange movement. Turning her attention to the movement, Y/N saw Liz Allen, a senior, on a ladder hanging up the largely decorated sign that read "Homecoming."

"You going?" Michelle asked, her eyes trained on the sign.

"Only if you'll go with me." Y/N joked as she nudged Michelle with a hint of a smile.

"Okay, then I'll go." Michelle nudged Y/N back with a ghostly smile playing on her lips.

The day has finally arrived. The day that everyone has been alive and abuzz about. Homecoming. She spent the night before at Michelle's place, and the pair had gotten ready together. Y/N had chosen a long, flowing red dress and paired them with a pair of not-too-high matching red heels. The moment she took a final glance at her prepared figure in the mirror, Y/N felt a weight removed from her self-esteem, almost like it had finally been allowed it's long overdue chance to finally rise from its ashes.

The ride to the event had been full of laughter and music. Michelle played songs by Nirvana, Rage Against The Machine and Queens to hype the two up. Y/N knew Michelle was trying to take Y/N's mind off of the fact that she'd have to see Peter at the dance, and with Liz Allen on top of that, but Y/N appreciated Michelle's efforts as they provided her with a much needed sense of confidence. The car pulled up in front of the building and Y/N and Michelle stepped out of the car. Y/N was a fit of laughter at Michelle's look of judgement towards her peers as they walked up the stairs towards the doors. They pulled the doors open and entered the overdecorated gym. The music pounded loudly through the tight space. The lights blinked colorfully and reflected onto the walls and floors of the gym. Y/N burst into laughter as she saw the look of disgust on her face.

"What's so funny?" Michelle asked.

"You just look so disgusted, it's really funny." Y/N explained. Michelle rolled her eyes with a light heart.

Later into the night, Y/N saw Liz walk in through the doors, soon following Peter. Peter's words from the day of their fight suddenly returned, and Y/N's heart dropped.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out for some air." Y/N told Michelle. Michelle nodded her head. With that, Y/N walked out of the gym and down the hall, the sound of her heels clacking on the shiny floor of the dimly lit hallways accompanied by the light thumping of the music. She walked out of the building towards the back where she knew no one would disturb her. As she pushed the door open, she nearly regretted it instantly as the frosty fall air bit harshly in a breeze on the skin of her arms.

Y/N didn't need to cry, but she did need a moment to think. Something about Peter in a suit, at a dance, with another girl, caused her heart to constrict in the same way it had when Peter had lashed out at her. Her thoughts however, were disrupted when a hand clamped over her mouth. The culprit, whoever it was, shushed her, their lips brushing harshly against the shell of her ear as they dragged her away from the doorway and towards a car. Y/N fought and screamed against the hand, and the person retaliated with an even louder shush.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry, you don't deserve this." Peter muttered as he looked into Liz's disappointed eyes. Not being able to bare the guilt of his abandonment of his date, Peter walked away as quickly as he could. Once in the hallway, Peter forced his tie off of him and threw it out. He grabbed his suit from its secret spot under the row of lockers and ran to get changed.

Peter ran out of the school towards the back of the building.

"Now, I'm not gonna hurtcha... unless he gives me a reason to. Hope and pray he chooses right, you just might live. Stay quiet, and don't go anywhere." The man joked drily as he walked away with the key to the cuffs. Y/N's eyes followed the man as he walked towards a desk oddly placed in the middle of the empty warehouse. Y/N hadn't spoken a word since she'd been abducted, instead she spent it memorizing a way out of the warehouse, and the license plate of the car she'd been brought in. Her next step had been to plan a way to escape the painfully tight hold of the cuffs, but she couldn't let go of what he had said.

'Unless he gives me a reason to.'

Who the hell could he be? Y/N's mind was racing, but forced to a screeching halt as one name only made sense. Peter. The sound of her abductor speaking pulled her out of her vicing concentration.

"Well sweetheart, looks like he didn't make an all too wise decision." The man stated as he glanced up at Y/N. Her cracked lips parted in a manner that indicated her intent on speaking, but her words were instantly rendered useless when an un-piloted wing-suit flew into the warehouse and began to fly around sporadically.

At first, it seemed as though the suit was flying around without pattern, aimlessly cutting and destroying anything in its path, but the more Y/N watched the wing-suit, the more she realized the suit's true goal was to break down the bars supporting the building, leaving Y/N to a certain death.

This sent Y/N into a frenzy of panic.

"Who are you talking about?" Y/N screamed as she struggled against the cuffs. She had a hunch, but a hunch wasn’t enough when her life was left in the hands of another person. "Who is he?" Her life depended solely on this unknown person, whoever he was, which only caused more panic to bubble within her and she could feel an anxiety attack coming on.

"I wanna tell ya, but, I got a flight to catch." The man fled the building with his suit moments before the walls of the warehouse fell upon Y/N's figure. Y/N's eyes squeezed shut in terror as she heard the building fall apart around her. It was useless for her to fight and struggle against the cuffs, ironically enough, they cut painfully into the skin of her wrist.

The weight of the structures walls fell upon Y/N's fragile figure. Soon enough, she couldn't see, and breathing became significantly more difficult. The night sky consumed her eventually, encasing her in a star sparkling velvety black, the spots of light singing falsely calming tunes and luring her into a dark peaceful abyss.

Peter's heart dropped in his chest the moment the debris collapsed around Y/N's figure.

"Y/N," Peter shouted loudly. The man Peter had spent weeks pursuing suddenly meant all of nothing to him. His feet moved faster than his mind did. It all happened far too quickly. Peter felt as though he was absent from his own body, like he watched the scene of events unfold before his eyes in the third person. The wing-suit, Toomes walking out of the building in a calm collected manner, a triumphant beat to his step. It was easy for Peter to choose between going after Toomes or risking his life to dig through piles of rubble to find a possibly alive Y/N.

In slow, untimely motion, Peter's feet moved and carried him quickly to the general area of where Y/N had been, his lips forming her name perfectly and allowing it to fall from his lips in frantic screams. Peter was no longer thinking rationally and began to uselessly dog through debris. Minutes passed, and Peter was still digging, his heart pounding loudly against his rib cage, his hands and arms aching from his relentless digging.

He sat down, his lungs clawing for sufficient air. In the silence, the sounds of distant sirens ripples through the sky, but Peter's ears perked up at the sound of a whimper. His shoulders, once hunched in sinking disappointment, lifted and Peter listened closely for another sound. His heart skipped a beat when the sound of another helpless whimper reached his ears. He tore the mask off his face to hear better.

"Y/N," Peter whispered scrambling towards the sound of her weak cries. Once he was sure he'd found her, he began to hectically push away large pieces of concrete. Peter did his best, but it felt hopeless. It felt like every time he would remove debris, more would move to take the place. The reality of not being able to reach Y/N burned him inside, consuming him from the inside out.

Peter's tears began to fall, the wet stream caught the attention of the dust and grime of the fallen structure. The guilt of the prior weeks, especially that day, began to weigh down his shoulders and began to be the cause of his delicate falling droplets. His arms with desperate exhaustion and begged eagerly for rest, but the pleas of his body were ignored as he continued to dig through the rubble. Minutes passed, and Peter did not give up, the choice wasn't there. The moment he saw her delicate skin was like sunshine breaking through rainy clouds. As if he hadn't been moving pieces away fast enough, Peter began to move with even more haste until he'd finally dug her up. The fragile glass fragments falling from his eyes had yet to cease as he picked Y/N's body up bridal style.

Peter's eyes roamed over her face, taking in her state. She had a cut across her cheek, and another one along her left jaw. Her shoulders were traced with already forming bruises, and her hair was an absolute tangle of pebbles of rubble.

Peter didn't check to see if Y/N was conscious, or that she could even hear her when he began to profusely apologize. The syllables freed themselves from his mouth in such a jumbled manner, his words were no longer coherent. Y/N coughed before her hands moved to fist the material of Peter's suit in the weak hold of her fist.

"Peter, Peter it's okay. I'm all right," she cut him off.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know w-what was wrong with me or-or-or why I said any of the things I did—"

"Peter, I'm okay, I'm fine." Y/N tried to convince him.

"But you're not— I don't mean it like that I mean— God, Y/N. I was so sure you were gone. I was sure I'd lost you for good, I was sure I'd never get to see you again, or hear your laugh again, or-or-or-or—" Y/N could see the panic in his eyes, the worry that ran rampant in his wide blown brown eyes. She listened as best as she could to everything he said and tried to respond, but he wouldn't give her the chance.

Y/N couldn't get Peter to shut up, so she cupped his jaw, and brought her lips up to Peter's. It was a spur of the moment action and the gravity of what she'd just done didn't quite sink in until Peter began to kiss her back.

"I've waited way too long for that," Peter sighed once they'd pulled apart, Y/N still in his arms.

"You have?," Y/N asked with hopeful wide eyes.

"I have." Peter stated before he leaned in for another kiss. For a moment, the troubles of before, and the troubles they'd both been entrapped in moments before no longer existed. They were nothing but a spec of dust in existence. For just a moment, the world and all it's dwellings were at peace.

A/N: Cheesy shitty ending, I know. Anyway, it’s been exactly a month since i last posted, but hopefully this makes up for it. I’m so sorry for all the delays, I’ve been trying really hard to write and edit more so I can post but it just seems like all forces are against me. Anyway, I’ll keep trying. I know it doesn’t seem like I’m trying, but I am, I promise I am trying to be more active and write more. I still have a lot to requests to write, and a lot to edit too so all I can do right now is request for your forgiveness, and patience. Also, this took me two weeks to write so, please get this to at least 150 notes? It would mean a lot to me <333

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