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#and when he arrives at where he suspects is related …
sqlmn · 1 year
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Happy 2023 have OCs from a plot that is older than a decade. None of these are the main characters lmao.
Ladd Moore (the main focus here) is an ass. Like just that’s his main trait. He’s outgoing and rude and a bit dense but incredibly good with technology. He’s in the field department of the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation (SBI) and sometimes when at HQ, research grabs hold of him to help with some tech. Only thing is, that’s between research leads and him. No one else in fieldwork thinks Ladd should touch a computer and most research staff think he’s annoying and stupid. So when he volunteers to fix something no one thinks he’s serious and they call research up and they go down and see Ladd watching them and just have to say “you didn’t want to help out the field division?” And he’s like “they told me no”.
His older sister, Lass, is also in the field department’s staff. Madison (Mads) is in research.
The siblings actually have a pretty traumatic childhood which is why Ladd follows his sister to this career. She thinks he’s being annoying but he wants to protect her since he blames himself for ruining her childhood… while she’s scared that it’s her fault for ruining his. So they don’t have the most peaceful relationship and it’s tense between them at times.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months
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Irresistible {3} || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four
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It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.
“No.”
You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”
It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”
You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”
“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”
You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”
“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”
Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”
For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”
“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”
You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”
“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”
“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”
He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”
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Lockdown: Week Sixteen
“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.
It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.
“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.
“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”
Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”
You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”
Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.
You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.
Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”
The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.
“It’s Charlotte.”
You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.
“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.
“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”
Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”
Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.
“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”
“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”
You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.
Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.
You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.
Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.
You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.
“You should be asleep.”
His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”
You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”
His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.
“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”
Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”
“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.
The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.
He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.
“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.
He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”
Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.
“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.
“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”
“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”
You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”
His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”
Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”
His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.
“Did Peter teach you to cook?”
Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”
The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”
You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.
“Worked with me.”
“But you’re weird.”
Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”
You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”
She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.
“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”
Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”
You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”
That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 
You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.
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Lockdown: Week Seventeen
You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.
“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.
“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”
You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.
“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.
“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.
“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.
“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.
“Home!”
You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.
Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”
The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.
“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”
“You planned all that?”
He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”
You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”
He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”
You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.
“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.
“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”
The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.
“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.
“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.
You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 
“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 
“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 
“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.
“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”
You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 
“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 
A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 
Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 
“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 
Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”
“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.
“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”
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blueparadis · 7 months
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╰┈➤ INSCAPE ✦ AYATO KAMISATO.
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⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ After a year of marriage when your confrontation strikes the heart of lord kamisato, he dedices to play fair and by your rules. Certainly, if he does what you ask of him, you would not be angry at him would you now?
+
⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader, wife!reader, husband!ayato kamisato, trophy wife treatment, terms of endearment, established relationship, marriage of convenience, angst and comfort, enemies to lovers dynamic, sorta hate sex ( but there is no sex. i mean there is but just a little ),drunk!reader, marking, temperature play ( wax play + ice play ), virginity k!nk, foreplay, aftercare >> implied piv sex; 2,2k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |
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A month has passed since you stepped into the Kamisato estate yet Ayato rarely made time for his wife. Of course, like all other men, he used work as an excuse to avoid you like a plague. How could he not? When you confessed that your father had forced you into this marriage with tears in your eyes and rage in your heart yelling that if you could you would have rather die than be a man like him. It was a bolt from the blue to see someone with whom Ayato had decided to share half of him choose death over him. So, Ayato kept his distance; kept up the mirage of this marriage, and deserted you in your misery. It has been a month since the day you married him and nothing has changed since then.
As usual, after eight, Thoma accompanied his master to the study room. “Tomorrow I have to go somewhere. Thoma, please take care of the household for a day.” His butler listens and nods.
“When will you be back Lord Ayato?” Thoma asked hanging his master’s coat in the rack. “Will your lady accompany you?” Ayato pauses stacking files one upon the other on his hand to ponder and then answers.
“It is just work-related.” Thoma beams at that and leaves his master alone in his room. The part where Ayato stands is just the entrance, where the light is always on. He grabs another candle stand and walks up to his desk in the dark, lighting them up. And, when he turns around his eyes glimmered on you like grapes ripening before the arrival of the season. 
You turn around standing against the window admiring the moon in its glory with a goblet in your hand and a wine bottle kept on your husband’s table. It is empty. You look at your husband, part your lips, and bring the goblet near your soft lips speaking in a calm tone. “You do not seem surprised to see me here.” You take a sip and tilt your head. “Have you been thinking about me—like this: standing here, waiting for you, my love?” Ayato does not break his silence. He just watches like a hawk. He leans against his desk crossing his arms over his chest. 
You slowly walk up to him making sure you do not trip. The moment you move the world takes a quick spin, composing yourself you see your husband inches away from you. Finishing the last bit of wine you keep the glass on the desk. You keep your hands on the desk along his firm stature and lean into his face. “Or were you expecting someone else, my love?” You are clearly drunk and maybe so, because you wanted to confront him since never before have you been this rebellious. 
Ayato has always kept a distance from you, letting you live freely, working the way you want. While  attending parties and get-togethers, you were cautious not to let the curtain of perfect marriage slip and show the world its ugly, rotten side. At times like that, his heart warmed from your vicinity; mind and body at constant battle for you. Of course, what would you know what it is like to love someone, and get nothing in return? That kind of love eats you from the inside.
If you hated him openly he could give you an excuse, perhaps an affair or chronic drinking habit but you are perfect maintaining this marriage. But you suspected him of cheating on you was salt to his wound. It hurt his pride. 
Ayato grabs one of your hands, pushing it away and spinning you to stand behind you. Both of your hands are under his grip. His left hand being free finds its way over your breasts. He does not like them. There is a fair amount of distance between his left hand and your upper body. As he finishes tracing your body and ultimately keeping his gloved hand over your belly button he hoarsely whispered into your ears, “You tell me. For whom are you wearing this flimsy dress? 
He rests his chin over the nook of your shoulders. You release a soft breath. “Or is it because you have been lonely?” You rub your thighs together feeling the warmth of his breath behind your ears. “Did you ask help from Thoma?”
“What? How could you—I’d never— Ayato shuhses you swinging his body a little making you sway, as if calming a crying baby. Then he speaks sternly, “At least I have a name. Who are you accusing me of?” 
“Why are you breathing so hard, love?” He exclaims eye over your belly letting you know how much he can feel your restlessness. 
“Leave me Ayato. Leave my hand.” You murmur. There is still a fight in you despite being hurt. He rubs his nose against your shoulder line making you arch your head a bit. He is trying to remember what triggered you and that you were willing to wash all your pride and shame to come to him. You hear a pop sound and a little later feel the graze of his lips, the hot breaths. He understands now. He understands why, why are you here? Closing his mouth he presses his body against your back.
You turn your head to take a look at his face. Your eyes are burning, eyelids heavy and vision focuses and defocuses often. “Thoma— he will, will be here to serve your dinner.” You drawl, one word toppling over the other. The way you took his butler’s name sounded like you were moaning it. “Please. Please Ayato. Leave me.” You feel his hand that was over your tummy loving away and as you take a sigh of relief you turn your face from him. As you close your eyes to dull the incoming wave of pain, you feel his hands underneath your nightgown, nudging in between your thighs seeking permission.
“What?” Ayato drawls tightening his grip on your wrists at the valley of your waist. “Didn’t you say you hated me on our first night? Then, why are you so wet?” He elongated ‘so’ as he spoke into your ears causing goosebumps to light up your supple skin. Embarrassment and shame bloomed all over your body. Your mind denied him while your body was willing to accept him. Not to mention that you are so wet and just from this? Another lie came into the light. The fact that you told him that you were a virgin to keep him ravaging you away is such a brave and bold move. 
“Aren’t you full of surprises my love?” He pulls out his gloved hand making you whimper and extends it in front of you to show how much you are turned on. Your arousal stuck onto his gloved hands, drips along the base of his palm as he motions his ring and middle finger. “Not only that,” He scooted over to a side shamelessly staring at your breasts, “Your nipples. They are hard.” His lips moved closer to your ears. He whispers, “So hard.” Makes him wanna suck and bruise them.
The wine is doing its job perfectly. Your senses are lithe and loose. There is a tingling feeling all over your skin and wherever his touch graces, the feeling magnifies resonating in between your legs. The grip on your hands that are held at your back is still there, still so strong. You fidget with your hands a little and Ayato shifts his hand, inserting his fingers through the gaps of your of both hands locking them firmly. 
You turn your head, with lust coinciding with desperation in your eyes, and your lips dash onto yours. Ayato is surprised at first but when he notices that your eyes are closed, lips so dedicatedly working against his he returns the favor. You think his instincts are becoming dilute. You slip your tongue trying to dull his senses more so that you can break free from his hold but all you feel is the cold grab of his gloved hand on your breasts over the cloth. Your body curls instantly under his touch making you snatch your mouth away.
“C’mon, it is our one-month anniversary. Let’s celebrate.” He mutters reading into your thoughts and then, pulling his glove by holding it in between his teeth exposing his ivory white skin. When he inclines for a kiss you turn away your head. Your breaths become erratic, heavy, and irregular. He can help you with that but you are being so stubborn. There is a pregnant pause before he bends you over the desk, and towers above you to murmur into your ears. “Fine. Have it your way.”
Ayato stands spreading his legs further against your lower body making you immobile. Still, you manage to turn and face him. You notice him holding a candle in one hand. You could sense what was going on in his mind but before your body could follow the directions of your mind he grabbed your hands, locked them by slipping his fingers into yours and pinning them over your head. He lets a drop of wax fall onto your body. It is good that your robe is still on you. But it does not hurt much, there is a pleasure rapidly following the stinging pain making you greedy for another shot.
“That is no good. You are enjoying it.” He growls and pulls your robe down letting a train of wax fall on your skin. You try to scream, thinking about the amount of pain you will get but Ayato’s lips block you from doing so. Tears rolling from the corner of your eyes yet you do not want to let go of his lips. He is kissing so fervently, hungrily. You did not think your husband was capable of such passion.
Ayato breaks the kiss. The resistive forces in your body have died now. He does not even have to tell you to stay still. He bends the candle to let the wax fall on your skin again holding your garment above your boobs. “Now, my dear wife. Who are you trying to provoke by not wearing anything under? Is it me?” He drawls dramatically letting the wax fall in a trail over your boob writing the letters of his initials. You do not scream, neither protest but rather moan in pleasure. The pleasure is addictive, like the cool Breeze after a storm.
Keeping the candle in its place he pulls you up embracing. A certain while you feel the hot wax on your back again and you bite onto the column of his neck. The more he pours, the stronger your sucks and bites become. Once the candle reduces to half he stops and watching your body so bruised and red makes him mourn but the look on your face turns the table.
“Ayato. Ayato, please. I need you.” you start. Intoxication is still in effect numbing your senses. “I need you inside me, please, I miss you.” you moan and whimper in his arms. Ayato hears a knock. He knows it is Thoma. Must have heard your voices. Slipping his coat over you he takes you into his arms. 
“Lord Ayato—” he gasps, opening the door. Ayato adjusts you in his arms and you curl into his chest. 
He instructs, “Thoma. We are going to have dinner later.” and walks towards the washroom. Thoma asks if he should prepare a bath but Ayato just tells him he needs some ice.
Ayato places you beside the sink, on the slab. He starts undressing himself thinking how he will be inside you for the first time, fuck you witless. The way you are drunk so much, he thinks, you will barely resist or feel the pain, only the pleasure. 
Thoma kept a box of ice outside the door already, Ayato picks them up and he walks towards you naked, with ice in his hands, and rubs them over your back.  With such cold hands, he pulls apart your legs to make himself comfortable in between your legs. His cock is hard and awake. You touch his member, making him moan against your ear. He keeps rubbing your back with those ice cubes as you work up his cock to take him in.
“Eager. Aren’t we?” Ayato says against your ears as you place your hands around him. “You have no idea what you are asking for my wife.”
You buck your hips and push him to feel him inside you. The tip of his cock grazes your entrance. You murmur, “Oh, try me. I'm actually hard to impress.” and feel him push his cock all at once, feeling his base against your inner thighs. You scratch onto his back feeling the momentarily alive pain followed by a great wave of pleasure.
“I’m warning you. I’m going to hurt you if I fuck you.” Ayato rasps.
And you mutter over his lips in erratic breaths. “Oh— you mean — sharing the pain, — my dear husband?” 
“Ummm—hmmm” Ayato coos, kissing your lips. The night is going to be long and memorable.
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n3x0tic · 1 year
Text
Head Cannon: Being Bruce Wayne First Biological Child.
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For the longest of time, it was you, your dad and Alfred.
In terms of family you didn’t have much, but the three of you were what you needed, period.
You spent a lot of time with your father, learning more about business than any other normal thing unlike any regular kid.
Bruce was hesitant a few times exposing you into this kind of world and to the public eye as well, thinking that it would in a way affect you, but you weren’t much of an extrovert to stay with anyone else unless it was Alfred.
You genuinely enjoyed your time spent with him, you had fun with him, and learn a lot from him too. Of course Alfred was the one mentoring Bruce, so he too became an important figure in your life.
But everything changed when Bruce took in his first stray, named Richard Grayson, or Dick for short.
Your father’s attention began to shift completely towards your new sibling. Feeling left out, you began to seclude yourself as well, barely talking, which was worrisome considering you barely talked to begin with.
Dick wasn’t the one to blame and a part of you knew that. It was simple, Bruce got closer to him because they both went through the same pain, something that they could relate to. But every fiber of your being wanted to blame him for everything.
You stopped spending time with him and the mire they got closer to each other the more there was a distance between you two.
You barely got out of your room, and the little time you spent outside was in the manor’s library, where you read your days away, imagining yourself in a story where even if it was just you and Bruce, everything was perfect.
Your jealousy then, became resentment. After a while the few words you exchanged out of courtesy with Dick, were completely gone.
In the past, there were things that you saw that were quite suspicious for a father with a big company, you didn’t pay mind to it, but since Dick’s arrival the things you once saw are now in a different color, for example you always suspected that Bruce was a vigilante, Batman to be precise.
You got your confirmation after noticing that there was a considerately suspicious timeframe of when your adoptive brother arrived, so did a sidekick appeared on Batman’s side.
With your eyes now turned into an object of observation, you began tailing Dick one night, and you had the advantage of knowing every nook and cranny of the manor like the back of your hand. So when you saw that there was a room hidden in the manor that you never knew.
How was it that you didn’t know everything when it came to your father, and then come this boy a few weeks ago and knew everything with easy.
And then you spiraled, it was as if you lost yourself in a sea of rage.
You threw a tantrum in your room and reeked havoc in it.
You felt pathetic, weak even.
That night you waited patiently in Dick’s room, waiting for his arrival, and many hours past midnight had passed. Your body, alongside your seething anger began to falter.
To Dick’s surprise, he never expected to see you sleeping so soundly in his bed in that manner.
His first instinct after seeing you were to throw you some blankets.
Later then he scooted in a little to get some sleep too, not wanting to disturb your own and after every change that occurred in the manor he felt responsible, and he felt like he owed it to you to at least let you sleep as a way of paying reparations.
However when you opened your eyes the next day only to wake up in his embrace, you moral compass, and every bit of anger you had were wavering, an internal war occurred and you simply escaped that scene and hurried to the garden hugging your knees in which you buried your head in an attempt to hide from reality.
Then your resentment began to change to something unknown the more you thought of what happened.
Were you finally going mad?
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sunny44 · 6 months
Text
All these years (Part 8)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend Reader
Warnings: pregnancy test, mentions of sickness and things related to pregnancy
Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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Two years after the last chapter
I left work early because if I stayed there for one more minute, I would throw up.
I knew what it meant. Or at least I think I know what it meant.
It's been a few weeks since my period hasn't come down, but I blamed work stress for it because it wouldn't be the first time it happened. But I never had nausea with it.
After Charles moved here, we tried a few times to have a baby but it didn't work out, so we decided that when it happened, it would happen.
Since I left early and he would take a few more hours to come home, I decided to do a pharmacy pregnancy test in the laboratory bathroom, the same place where I would do the blood test.
I got there and did the test in the bathroom after filling out my form. Since I didn't want to know now, I put it back in the box it came in and placed it in my bag.
[...]
After doing the blood test, I got the number where I would check the result online and left. I got home before Charles, took a shower, and then came out with my hair wrapped in a towel, wearing only underwear and a top. I stopped in front of the mirror, analyzing my belly. It was slightly elevated, and if I didn't think I was pregnant, I would say it was just bloating.
I put on one of Charles's black hoodies and a pair of socks and after drying my hair, I left the room and went to the kitchen to do something.
Since the test would take some time to be ready, I needed to distract myself, not to mention that I wanted him to be with me to see the results together.
So, I decided to make vanilla cupcakes with Oreo frosting.
I made the batter, added pieces of cookies in the middle, filled the cupcake liners and put them in the oven. Then, I started making the frosting.
And after finishing and eating many cookies, Charles comes home and is amazed to see me there since I usually arrived after few minutes after him.
"Hi, love, did you leave early?" He takes off his shoes at the door and comes over to me, kissing me. "Wow, made cupcakes. Are you trying to tell me something?"
"I just needed to distract myself." He smiles. "Go take a shower and come back here afterward."
"I'm afraid of what's to come." He goes, but in the middle of the hallway, he comes running back. "You're not going to break off our engagement, right?"
"No, go take your shower." I said, laughing, and he kissed me once again and ran off.
In the meantime, the oven beeped. I took them out and placed them on the counter.
I was arranging them on a glass plate when I felt him hug me from behind and leave a little kiss on my neck.
"I love you, you know?"
"I love you too, babe." I turned to him, and he picked me up and put me on the counter.
"So, what do you want to tell me?"
"I felt sick at work today and left early."
"And are you okay?" He asked worried.
"I am, I decided I would take a test to confirm what I suspected."
"What do you mean?"
"My period is late." He still looks at me without understanding. "I might be pregnant, Charles."
"Seriously?" I nod, and he starts giving me several little kisses on my face, making me laugh. "And are you really pregnant?"
"I don't know. I did a pharmacy test and a blood test, but I didn't have the courage to look yet." I opened my bag, taking out the box. "Do you want to see?"
"Of course." He takes the box and looks. "Here it says you're not."
"Oh." He looks at me, and by now, I was almost crying.
"Hey, everything will be okay. Is the blood test result available?"
"Still a few hours left."
"Then I'll help you finish your cupcakes, and we'll go to the couch to watch a movie."
We put the frosting on, and then he picked me up, carrying me to the couch. I settled on him, and he tuned into a channel that was showing "Grown Ups."
[...]
After a few hours, we ended up falling asleep. Now it was 8:30 PM, and Charles was entering the code to see the result.
"Ready?"
"No." He laughs. "But we have to see."
He pressed enter, and soon he started reading what seemed to be there. He stood up, putting his hands on his face, and I saw tears in his eyes.
"It's negative, isn't it?"
"It's positive." He says in a whisper, and I get up. "We're going to have a baby."
"Are you serious? Don't lie to me because I'm very sensitive right now."
"Were have a baby, love, for real." He holds my face.
"We did it." He smiles.
"Yes, we did."
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername Instagram stories
“Baby Leclerc on the way” tagged:@charlesleclerc
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Charlesleclerc Instagram stories
“I’m gonna be a dad soon” tagged:@yourusername
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Tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamer @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld @vellicora @meadhbhcavanagh @viramila @lightdragonrayne @morenofilm @millinorrizz @leclercdream @buendiabebeta @ironmaiden1313 @julesandro @ssararuffoni @sialexia @notleclerc @glow-ish @heavengirls111
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Text
It had been a week since The Lamb had been summoned to The Gateway in the aftermath of Shamura’s death.
A week since The One Wh-… since Narinder had ordered them to kneel.
A week since they refused.
A week since they won.
A week since…
Since they had returned to the cult, bloody and victorious over their former patron, only to find him at the centre of a concerned crowd by the Indoctrination Circle.
Comatose.
The Lamb methodically tucked the blanket securely around Narinder’s still form. The only sign of life being the rise and fall of his thin chest. Whether the thinness was a sign of his former role as Death or due to his long imprisonment, the Lamb wasn’t sure but it was something of concern.
As was the gaunt look to his wrist, scarred and furless, with long oozing sores up his forearms.
“Oh, what am I going to do with you?” The Lamb murmured softly as they smoothed out the blanket.
While not entirely sure why Narinder had fallen into a coma, the Lamb suspected it might have been related to the shock of becoming mortal.
The wounds that were so easily shrugged off as a god were fatal to any mortal.
“I don’t know why I spared you. You demanded so much of me and took everything else. Maybe it was pity. Maybe I am just a coward like you said. Or perhaps I’m just tired of all the bloodshed. So many of us have died, mortal and divine and for what?” They soothed another fake wrinkle in the blanket.
They did not regret killing the Bishops. How could they when the four had stolen their entire people from them? The Genocide had started before they had been born and thus any chance of them knowing what it was like to be a Lamb, to know their culture, their heritage, was destroyed before it began. The fanaticism had extended to any who would show a lamb any form of mercy or those who tried to preserve anything of lamb culture.
The zealotry had even begun to affect other species as the number of lambs dwindled. Goats, antelopes, deer, bison, cattle, even llamas, all became rarer towards the end.
Cats, black ones especially, were also affected, being considered an ill omen and too many cats considered themselves allies of lambs to allow such brutality.
And for what?
The prophesised inevitable had finally come to pass. Five became Four became Three became Two became One became…
Nothing.
The Lamb began to gather the old, ichor-stained bandages they had replaced and threw them into a bowl. Cloths they had used to wipe Narinder down followed. The old bedding was thrown by the door, ready to be washed. They refused to allow anyone else care for him with only the healers being allowed to watch over him while they performed their duties away from his bedside.
An act of devotion, penitence and safeguard all rolled into one.
“It’s funny. I thought we’d do all sorts of things once you were free. I wanted to stay by your side. I wanted to show you my favourite fishing spot by the docks and show you where I picked all those camellias in the Darkwood. I wanted to make you my favourite meal.” They were quiet for a moment. “I wanted to know if I meant as much to you as you did to me. Even if I didn’t, I hoped you let me stay. I would’ve given anything, you know, but after everything I’d done for you, after all I had given, you just had to ask for the one thing I couldn’t do.”
The Lamb sat on the floor by the bed and rested their head on the cover, watching his face for even the smallest of reactions.
“If you hadn’t demanded that... If you had found another way… Would you have let me stay?”
Nothing.
Just the rise and fall of the thin chest.
Just as it had been for a week.
Just as it would be for a long time yet.
____________________________
Everyone: Narinder is pissed and tries to assassinate the Lamb when he's indoctrinated.
Me: What if he's comatose tho?
AU where the shock of becoming mortal after being imprisoned for so long causes Narinder's body to be so overwhelmed that he falls into a coma immediately upon arrival to the cult.
The Lamb, while feeling betrayed yet still devoted, decides to personally care for Narinder while he's comatose.
Rumours spread about the mysterious comatose new recruit and how the Lamb spends every moment they aren't caring for the Cult with him.
Some think something happened their leader blames themself for.
Others think it's out of duty and safeguarding since he's technically not been indoctrinated yet.
One very persistent rumour insists that the mystery person is actually the Lamb's lover who was hurt and now they cannot bear to part from his side.
Even when the Mystic Seller commands them to free the Bishops, the Lamb is slow to do so until it offers to help Narinder heal.
With every freed bishop, the stronger Narinder becomes.
Aym and Baal are resurrected and are the only ones allowed to help with Narinder while the Lamb frees the bishops. The only ones they can trust with Narinder.
The Lamb continues to talk to Narinder throughout everything about everything. All of their hopes and fears and plans are laid bare to him. Their feelings too.
(Maybe the bishops also talk to him. Quietly and on the rare moments that the Lamb isn't hovering by his side. Their own form of confessional.)
However, no one has any idea that Narinder can hear every word.
And then he wakes up.
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worriedvision · 6 months
Text
You're related to the Abyss order - Lyney
Gender neutral reader, this contains spoilers for the main story. Big spoilers for Lyneys story. Angst ending, has been tagged as such.
--
Being with Lyney, you had always been so self conscious of your eyes - the dead giveaway that you were not a normal human. You knew you were blood related to the abyss, however this did not extend past blood. Nonetheless, you thought Lyney had no secrets, and he was perfect in your eyes.
In the hope of keeping him, you put coloured contacts in.
So, when you saw the moment it was revealed that his family were part of the Fatui, you thought it would be a good time to reveal your secret. Heading home, you prepare yourself for his arrival.
--
He opened the door, closing his eyes before slowly opening them, he takes in your true form. Sure, it was just your eyes, but Lyney knew in that moment you had lied to him. His remaining charm disappears, face dropping as you begin to console him for his reveal. You go to hold his hand, thinking he was just drained from the trial, but he swats away your hand.
"How long did you plan to keep this secret of yours from me? From us?" Lyney asks quietly. "The fact you are part of the Abyss order? I mean, I know I'm Fatui, but I have my reasons."
"I promise, I'm only related by blood! I wouldn't -"
"I forgive you, _." Lyney smiles, the smile not reaching his eyes. "Stay away from my family, and you will be fine."
"But Lyney, I love-"
"I thought I loved you. Turns out, you're worse than me." Lyney states, stepping to the side so you can leave through the door.
--
The next few days pass, and Freminet begins to ask for you. Lyney keeps reassuring him you're just busy, but Freminet suspects this isn't the true reason.
"Freminet, we'll talk about this privately." Lyney Huff's, Freminet scowling at him as if to say he wanted to know now. Following Freminets request, they head home where Lyney breaks the news that you were part of the Abyss.
Freminet looked unmoved, concerning Lyney.
"Do you know why I trusted them so easily?" Freminet asks meekly, Lyney shaking his head.
"It's because I knew them first."
Truth be told, Freminet met you before Lyney.
You heard him being ambushed by a particularly horrible group of Abyss lectors, and ran along to help him out. Looking at the Abyss lectors, they back off upon recognising your eyes. While you hated being related to the Abyss, your eyes had their benefits.
Freminet had been exhausted after the fight, so you sat with him while he regained his stamina. You don't exchange a word, but Freminet knew that you were someone he could trust.
Lyney fell silent when Freminet told him the story, Freminet crossing his arms when he takes in his brother's slow shock settle in.
"I miss _. They were nice and patient with me." Freminet spits out, leaving the house to most likely dive to a private spot.
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x-bluefire-heart-x · 7 months
Text
Mr Fancy Pants
Alright, so here is another Rafael Barba/Gender Neutral story. The reader is undercover, they don't work for SVU but Finn and Liv know them. Amanda arrests them, and Rafael sits in on the interview, where the reader flirts with him.
Feel free to make requests :)
Warnings: Sexual under tones, discussion of violence, but not overly detailed. And I think that is it.
Masterlist
Prompt List
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Your hands were finally free of the hand cuffs as a detective lead you into an interrogation room. You rubbed at your wrists, pretending that they were chaffed a little, pouting at the blonde detective when she pushed at your shoulder to force you into a chair across from where a man in a suit was standing behind another chair.
“No need for the rough treatment detective,” you whined, slumping a little into the back of the incredibly uncomfortable chair. “I didn’t consent to that. And aren’t you sex crime cops meant to be all about that?”
“That wasn’t rough, Sunshine,” Amanda said stopping herself from rolling her eyes. The man however, did not contain himself.
“Sunshine?” he looked at Amanda with an eyebrow raised. You studied his profile allowing a sly, flirty grin to pull at your lips.
“Yeah, Sunshine,” you answered drawing his eyes to you. “Cause I’m just all smiles and happiness. And anyone who leaves my bed is smiling like sunshine.” You winked at him, eyes slowly moving up and down his body. “Could give you that experience, cutie.”
“You’ve been brought in on charges of solicitation and you’re soliciting an ADA?” he’s voice was full of disbelief at your actions.
“No, I’m offering you the chance to experience my full attention on you and only you, a fun time between two adults, a hook up if you will, people have them all the time,” you said narrowing your brows, grin changing to a pout again as you puffed out your cheeks a little. “I have no idea why little miss south here arrested me. I didn’t do a thing. Won’t be asking her if she wants to come to bed with me that’s for sure. Not asking before handcuffing me and being all rough.”
“I’m a cop arresting a suspect in relation to a crime, I don’t need to ask your permission,” Amanda stated. “Now, you can pretend all you like, but we know you were seen around other workers. We want to know if you’ve ever seen this girl before.”
Amanda opened the folder that was on the desk as she took a seat. The ADA still standing. Amanda put a photo in-front of you of a girl who looked barely in her twenties, with long red hair and freckles spattered across her cheeks. You looked down at it before looking back at the ADA.
“Don’t I at least get to know your name?” you asked, looking at him from under your lashes biting your lip. “I mean I don’t mind calling you sexy or handsome or stunningly gorgeous man but I also wanna know your name.”
“I’m Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba,” he ground out, ignoring your weird flirting. “And enough games, Sunshine.”  
“Games? You think I’m playing games?” you asked innocently, blinking at him. “I could show you some games. With consent of course, might not mind getting cuffed if it’s by you.”
“Sunshine! This girl have you seen her?” Amanda interrupted her voice sharp, the anger bubbling underneath. “We have enough to charge you.”
“With what?” you asked, finally turning your gaze to Amanda’s the teasing glint in them gone, replaced by a sharpness she did not expect. “Just cause I was seen around other workers you just assume I’m also a worker? Have you seen me approach a John? Seen me exchange money for sex? Do I have a record? And last I checked you lot weren’t ones to arrest sex workers.”
“This girl was brutally attacked and murdered, don’t you care?” Amanda asked pulling out more photos, this time crime scene photos, slamming them down on the table in-front of you.
“Rollins, enough,” Finn’s voice cut through the silence that had followed. You turned in your seat to look at the new arrival who was already looking at you. “You gonna help or you just wasting our time, Sunshine? Cause we can put you in lock up for 24hrs. Capice?”
You worried your bottom lip as you looked at Finn, glancing back over your shoulder to Amanda and Rafael. Your eyes eventually were drawn to the crime scene photos of the girl, you sighed rolling your neck before looking back at Finn. You raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the other two. He inclined his head.
“Wanderlust,” you muttered standing up, posture changing as you did. The set of your shoulders pulling back and your face losing any trace of teasing as you indicated the door Finn was standing in. “Her office?”
“Yeah, come on you two,” Finn went back through the door with you close behind. Amanda and Rafael shared a look of confusion before storming after you two.
“What is going on?” Rafael demanded looking at Liv only to see her in the middle of a hug with you smiling widely as you greeted her like old friends.
“You two know each other?” Amanda asked.
“All three of us do,” you answered turning around and crossing your arms across your chest. “Met on another undercover job of mine, where our two cases intersected. Ended up helping each. After it happened for the third time we decided to work out a way to let each player know if we could discuss our cases and provide assistance.”
“You’re a cop?” Amanda asked.
“FBI,” you nodded. “Good tactics by the way but you might want to be careful who you bluff with, you had nothing to charge me with, though I am curious as to what made you decide to arrest me.”
“You matched the description we had of someone who was seen in the same area the girl was attacked,” Amanda answered. “And we had quite a few people mention this new worker who had shown up called, Sunshine.”
“Ah, well, fair enough,” you nodded winking at her a little. “Still not enough to actually arrest me. Could get it thrown out myself.”
Your gaze drifted to Rafael who was leaning against the observation window, arms crossed and his face pulled into a frown as he studied you. His eyes seeming to run up the length of your body before he caught your gaze, he quickly looked away turning his attention to Finn his cheeks turning the smallest bit red.
“Hey, Rafael,” you wanted his attention back on you. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Sunshine’s personality is a little…frisky.”
“It’s fine, Agent,” Rafael muttered. “So, do you have anything that can help our case?”
“Maybe,” you nodded. “I haven’t actually seen that girl but I know a few other workers who have mentioned a particularly nasty John lately. It doesn’t seem like our two cases are directly intersecting beyond me being here but I’ll help in anyway I can, so long as it doesn’t jeopardise my case.”
“Can we expect a lawyer showing up for you?” Liv asked.
“Potentially, Sunshine isn’t working for anyone at the moment, my goal is to try and get the attention of a pimp who has ties to an international trafficking ring, so if I have got their attention they could use this to try and get me to feel indebted to them,” you explained. “Last our contacts said they were here, my job is to get close and get picked to tag along to where the head creeps hang out.”
Rafael’s eyes had turned back to you, without his conscious thought prompting them. Your job sounded dangerous, with quite a few unknown variables. And it didn’t look like you had any gear on you that allowed your handlers to track your movements.  
“We’ll keep our ears open for anything that sounds like it could be your guy,” Finn promised. “What can you tell us about this John?”
“From what I’ve been told, he drives a four door Sudan, it’s a blue/grey colour one of those ones that seems to shift a little in the light, no-one’s been able to give a full number plate but one of the girls I talked to said it ended in 4KY,” you said. “The guy apparently gets them into the back, the with seats laid down and it starts off normal but he starts to get rough, holding them down hard enough to leave bruises, slapping them. One of them said he even pulled out a knife on her, which would match the marks left on your victim.”
“He’s let some of them go?” Rafael asked, a little surprised considering the extremely violent nature of the attack on their victim.
“He might not be looking to actually kill people,” you explained. “The girls I talked to said they didn’t struggle, they kept up the act. One of them started to struggle and fight him and apparently that set him off but once she stopped and even said sorry he calmed down. He sounds like a sadist who gets off on other people’s pain and fear but he doesn’t want them to struggle for real, to fight him. Most likely he wants the fantasy of them fighting but for the most part wants them to appear as if they are enjoying what he is doing, playing a part to whatever desire he has.”
“You get a description?” Amanda asked.
“Yeah, guy was tall and bulky, he had brown hair that was wavy apparently, he was a smoker, and one girl said he had little scars all over his arm,” you listed. “I can point you in the direction of some of the girls, but I can’t talk to them about helping you guys and you can’t mention that I told you where to go.”
“Don’t worry we will be discreet, you can trust us,” Liv squeezed your shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Course, now, as much as I would love to catch up with you two and get to know the rest of the squad we need to get the show on the road,” you grinned. “And by that I mean letting Sunshine go, you have nothing to hold me on.” You cheekily tsked at Amanda, throwing her a wink making her giggle a little.
“Alright you, back in that room,” Liv smiled pulling you into a hug, before moving out of the way for Finn to squeeze you.
“Next time we see you, it better be as you so we can chat,” Finn demanded.
“Alright big guy,” you laughed. You walked to Amanda and held out a hand. “Nice to have met you Amanda, hopefully next time it will be when I don’t have to be undercover, Finn and Liv have a way to contact me, they can pass it on.”
“You too,” Amanda smiled taking your hand. “Be careful, sounds like a tricky undercover op.”
“That just makes it fun,” you winked at her again. “But thank you, I promise I’ll be careful little miss south.”
“Agent,” when you turned back to the door Rafael was already standing there with a hand out.
“Counsellor,” you gripped his hand. “Shall we continue?” he stood to the side to you allow you go through, following in after you with Amanda on his heels.
The two of them watched in interest as you easily slide back in the persona of Sunshine, you slumped back in the chair as they took the seats across from you. You passed your eyes over Amanda to settle on Rafael, your teasing flirty smile appearing again.
“Well, cutie, you gonna cuff me or let me go?” you asked, putting in a purr to your tone.
“You’re free to go Sunshine,” Amanda sighed collecting the photos. “I suggest you find other places to hang out.”
“Aw, you worried about me blondie?” you cooed. Amanda ignored you as she stood up and opened the door to the corridor. You stood up, strolling around the door passing by Rafael who had stood up. You paused for a split second, making sure to lock eyes with him. “Well, Mr Fancy Pants, be sure to give me a call. I promise it’ll be worth it, sexy.”
You winked at him as you passed, subtly slipping a piece of paper into the pocket of his pants as you trailed your fingers over his hand. You pouted as you passed Amanda wiggling your fingers at her as you left but before you left her eye sight you blew her a kiss. Rafael slipped his hand into his pocket to pull out the piece of paper. It was a name and a number, with a question. ‘My flirting was over the top but doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. Call me?’.
“You know, it took them a while before giving me or Finn their personal number,” Liv’s voice said from behind him.
“Hmm,” was all Rafael said, pocketing the piece of paper. He had to forcibly prevent himself from smiling as he joined the squad to discuss their next move, his fingers every now and then touching the piece of paper.
158 notes · View notes
hamsterlanza · 10 days
Note
hey, you asked about the recent failed shooting and i shall deliver 🙏
this is all the information i’ve managed to gather so far— i’m sure there’s more. on may 1st at around, 11:15 AM, Mount Horeb Middle School in Wisconsin was put on lockdown due to a report of a 14 year old student standing outside, carrying a rifle. the police arrived shortly after and after an altercation— they shot him dead. the student (damien haglund) had never breached the entrance of the school. allegedly, he fired a few shots but i have no idea where or who he was trying to hit if he never got past the entrance— so take that with a grain of salt. his backpack was found with 11+ expended casings. he took his grandfather’s car and drove to the school, it hasn’t been revealed what the police could’ve found when searching it. he called his “plan” NVK. i’m not sure what he was trying to achieve, as he carried a weapon unconcealed in broad daylight. apparently, the rifle belonged to his grandfather as well. there’s not a lot of specific details, as the police department is hesitant to release any private information they might’ve gathered. if you want to know more about him ‘personally’ you should check out his website: HaglundWebforum.jpg his twitter and youtube is linked at the bottom of the page too. he had an obsession with columbine and other shooters, he says on the website that he relates to adam lanza the most. overall, you should check out newspapers on the web, reddit (r/columbinekillers), any local facebook groups (near the area), and his website for more information.
sources:
https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2024/05/01/mt-horeb-middle-school-shooter/73528044007/
https://channel3now.com/2024/05/01/suspect-killed-outside-wisconsin-mount-horeb-middle-school-identified-as-14-year-old-damian-haglund/
https://abcnews.go.com/US/wisconsin-mount-horeb-reported-active-shooter/story?id=109800261
thank you , thank u a lot for this !!
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azriels-shadowsinger · 7 months
Note
can i please request a drabble where rhys gets reader pregnant when they’re young, and his father finds out before him when the camp healer informs him of readers visit. He threatens reader and tells her that he’s about to become a high lord and doesn’t have time for distractions. he tells her that he’ll hurt rhys if she doesn’t leave, so she breaks up with him and runs away. When she hears the news of his fathers death their son is already 3-6 years old. she moves back to velaris bc she wants to stay close to him, she meets either cass or az when she’s shopping and they tell rhys who immedietly winnows over. He sees the kid with her and suspects… they finally talk it out, she shows him her memory of what his dad said, and get back together, the kid finally have a dad🤍 and she has her mate back🥹
this is such a good idea i love it!! also i did a daughter instead bc girl dad rhys is such a necessity
wc: 1.3 k
warnings: none
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6 Years Ago
“You will not bear the future heir and you will not keep Rhysand from achieving his full potential as future high lord.” The high lord had cornered you outside as you were leaving a secret visit with Rhys, which was apparently not so secret. You didn’t speak, only nodded.
“If you don’t get rid of that baby and leave the night court, I will make sure there that Rhysand is not around to raise that child.” You had no idea how he found out about the pregnancy, but you also knew he was not one to make empty threats.
It would be hard, but you knew you could raise this baby on your own. The high lord never had to know you kept the child if you left. And neither did Rhys.
———
“I don’t understand why you have to leave. Please stay!” Rhys pleaded. It broke your heart to do this, but you could not risk his safety or the safety of you and Rhys’ baby.
Your baby. He can never know.
“I have to leave. I don’t want to be in Velaris anymore.” You lie. “I want to move home to the Winter Court.” Each word felt more painful than the last.
“We can visit there more often! I’ll go with you! Just please don’t go.” Tears are forming in his eyes, and you have to look away or else you will give in. You know what you have to say. The thought of it makes you sick, but it’s the only way he will never come looking for you.
“I don’t love you anymore Rhys. I’m sorry.” The look in his eyes when you said that will haunt you forever, but at least he will be safe.
———
Present Day
It had been years since that horrible day. His broken-hearted face still haunts your nightmares. Usually, you can go a few days without thinking about him, but your daughter, Nova, is getting to such an age where she asks a million questions. The most frequent being related to her father. You try to evade the questions as best you can, but it always results in you crying yourself to sleep and having nightmares of Rhys watching you say you don’t love him anymore.
Last night had been one of those nights and you were exhausted from the nightmares. You decided to stop in a local cafe for some coffee with your five-year-old next to you, sipping her juice. After several minutes of peacefulness, you overhear the barista talking with a member of Kallias’ court who had just entered.
“It was just a few months ago! I wasn’t sure if it was true, but once I saw Rhysand at the high lord’s meeting last month I knew it must be.” The man whispered not so quietly.
You froze.
“His father was such a brute. He gave the night court such a bad name. Hopefully, High Lord Rhysand will be a better leader for the Night Court.”
You drop the mug, spilling it all over yourself and the table. The barista rushes over to help you clean, but all you can do is stare at your daughter.
———
It took all of 24 hours for you to pack your and Nova’s belongings and find a horse to travel on. After weeks of travel, staying in old inns, and a constantly cranky five-year-old, you finally arrived in Velaris. You find a local inn and clean yourself and your daughter up. You knew that if you walked the streets of Velaris for long enough, he would hear that you were back.
But what if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he hates you for what you said? The anxiety starts to bubble inside you until you begin to second guess this entire plan.
“Mommy look! Cookies!” Nova is standing on her tiptoes and looking out the window of the inn at the bakery across the street. You shove the insecurities back inside yourself.
“Let’s go get you a cookie, honey.”
———
The two of you sit at the tiny table outside the bakery to enjoy your cookies. For a moment, you don’t feel as nervous. Until you feel someone watching you. You turn around and a familiar pair of wings are ducking into an alley. Well, you can’t back down now.
Not even 10 seconds later, you hear a commotion behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that Rhys just winnowed to the street. You take a steadying breath and turn to meet his gaze, but the look you get in return breaks your heart all over again.
“Hello, Rhys.” You try to break the ice. His eyes dart from you to the dark-haired, purple-eyed girl sitting next to you. A talon is caressing your mental shields, and after years of keeping them up, you finally let him in.
“Is she mine?” He speaks into your mind, getting straight to the point. The familiar feeling of his voice in your head is enough to make the tears start falling
“Yes. I can explain everything. I’m so sorry, Rhys.” You hope he will let you explain. Three long strides and then he is next to you. He kneels in front of your daughter.
His daughter.
Nova looks up at him, eyes glazed over as he speaks to her in her head. He puts a gentle hand on her cheek and softly rubs his thumb across it. A few minutes pass as they have their silent conversation before Rhys finally speaks.
“Let’s talk at home.” He reaches out a hand for you to take. Home. You never thought you would return. You take his hand as Nova takes his other one, and instantly you are winnowed away.
The moment the three of you are alone, he falls to his knees and hugs you both, tears freely falling.
“Rhys, I can ex-“ He cuts you off.
“I don’t care. You’re back. Even if you don’t love me anymore, I will do anything you ask if you will let me be a part of her life.” He looks at you with the same heartbroken stare that has haunted you for years. You drop to your knees with him and take his face in your hands.
“I never stopped loving you. I had to leave to keep you safe. And to keep Nova safe.” You start to explain but his eyes light up at the name.
“Nova?” He whispers. You nod.
“Like the stars. Just like her dad.” The word dad sets him off again and he hugs tighter. “I can show you everything. I can explain it all. I want you to be in her life…. In our lives, if you want.”
Rhys pulls you both close and just whispers. “You’re home. Finally.”
———
6 Months Later
After the announcement of the new High Lady and new heir, Velaris celebrated for weeks. You finally got settled into your new home, and Rhys even decorated a room for Nova all by himself.
It took some time after your return for him to fully open up again. Some wounds take time to heal, and Rhys spent a while feeling upset that he missed so many of Nova’s milestones. Even now, he asks you to replay her first steps in your head for him to watch. But once he started getting to know Nova, she had him wrapped around her little finger.
The three of you are sitting cozy on the sofa while Rhys reads Nova to sleep. You never thought you would get to experience this. Nova dozes off in your arms and Rhys shuts the book. The smile he gives you warms even your darkest dreams.
“You kept her safe long enough for me to meet her. You did an impossibly difficult thing to keep us both safe. I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did.” He rests a gentle hand on her cheek.
That night, your dreams are filled with images of your future lives together. You, Rhys, and Nova together for centuries.
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ghastlyfilters · 1 year
Text
BETRAYAL !
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— “AND I HELD YOUR HAND THROUGH ALL OF THESE YEARS, BUT YOU STILL HAVE.. ALL OF ME.”
pairing; billy loomis x fem!reader
summary; what if your biggest betrayal was by someone you’d held the hand of for so many years? billy loomis was supposed to be a pleasant never ending dream, not a soon to be distant memory turned into your one, true nightmare. (reader is replacing the role of sidney)
author’s note: HI. (i was half asleep whilst writing this and found it in my drafts. fuck knows where i was going with it. after reading it, i’m gonna guess it’s something about the whole ‘betrayal’ thing and the reader not knowing the darker truth behind billy’s motive if he is actually the killer? little does she know lmao. but anyway, take this whilst i go finish some requests and write other content. more reqs are open as always. even when i’m busy, i like writing requests here and there. or i’ll leave them for a bit and come back to em! enjoy this fic that i honestly don’t know why my half asleep self wrote💀)
PLEASE DON’T READ IF MENTIONS OF BETRAYAL, DEATH, OR ANYTHING HORROR RELATED AFFECTS YOU!!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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A shiver ran down your spine as flashbacks of hearing about the deaths of Casey Becker and Steve Orth came creeping back into your head. Had the killer intended for you to be next? Or were you just another random teen fit into this psycho’s cruel joke.
Everything was happening all too fast. Yes, you were now sat in Woodsboro police station after being taken in for your own safety. But did you truly feel safe?
No.
“Y/n?” A voice called out.
“Y/n??”
You quickly snapped out of your unpleasant thoughts, looking up to see Deputy Riley standing over you, holding out a small cup of water.
“Thanks, Dewey.” You whispered with a weak smile, accepting the water and placing it down beside you.
Dewey let out a small sigh as he put a hand on your shoulder. “Try not to overthink things, hm? We’ll have this all sorted out soon enough.”
You ran a hand through your hair, wincing at the sickly feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. You’d been incredibly nauseous ever since you arrived at the station. No wonder. You were probably still in shock after the events of tonight.
“Y/n, please. If you stress you’ll just make yourself even more shaken up than you clearly already are. Do you want me to get the nurse to check you over again?” Dewey asked.
“No, it’s alright. I’ll be fine.”
Dewey gave you a small pat on the back as he cleared his throat, slowly beginning to walk away.
“I’ll take you and Tatum home soon, kay?” He said, turning around one last time before heading back over to Sheriff Burk.
You resumed to wandering back into deep thought. Yeah, you were shaken up from the whole ‘killer’ part of tonight, but that wasn’t what hurt most.
Billy.
His name was beginning to feel like a distant memory, waiting for you to finally let go of.
‘Expect the unexpected,’ Most would say. But had you really imagined the one whom you thought you could trust the most would dare to hurt you?
Never.
After fighting for your life as the suspected killer tried to make it come to a brutal and bloody ending, Billy came out of nowhere, sneakily checking up on you every night as he had done for the past two years.
His timing was off. Way, WAY too off.
But the minute that damn phone fell out his pocket, you felt your heart stop immediately.
One hour ago, 34 Elm Street:
He was after you.
He was after YOU.
You yelped as Woodboro’s newly, anonymous killer made his move on you. He viciously kicked you to the floor with his large black boots, ready to gut you any second now.
Struggling, you desperately tried to pick yourself up, but it was no use. The killer grabbed a fistful of your hair, bashing your head against the laminate.
All you could think about was your upcoming cruel ending. How you were not going to see the ones you loved ever so dearly again. Tatum would never get to have late night movie sleepovers with you, Stu wouldn’t be able to make you giggle with his constant cheesiness, Randy and his little sister couldn’t ever see that bright smile of yours again whenever you’d go over to their house, and Billy, oh, Billy..
Your Billy.
You’d never get the chance to hear that soft voice of his ever again, almost as light as feathers themselves. The feeling of his undying love would soon be nothing. All the blissful memories you once shared were about to be over. Forever.
Finally, the monster behind the mask raised his sharp blade above you, ready to finish you off once and for all.
You quickly pushed him off you, sending the killer flying to the wall. Adrenaline had began to kick in. You couldn’t just be so defenceless and let him end you like that! You HAD to see your loved ones again. And you made sure this fucker wouldn’t prevent you from doing that anytime soon.
Quickly scrambling to the front door, you rattled the chain only to find it locked. Fuck. He could easily get back up in time whilst you tried to fix the lock. It wasn’t worth it.
Without hesitation, the killer got back up once again, launching himself at you. You ducked under him as he had clumsily managed to get his Buck 120 knife stuck in the door.
You headed for the stairs but knew he was hot on your heels. It didn’t take long for you to reach your bedroom, running over to the phone beside your bed desperately trying to dial 911.
“Shit!” You cursed. That bastard was still on the other end of the line.
Your only option was to contact them through the shitty computer you’d had for years now. The thing was slow, but you hoped it would be fast enough for you to alarm the police in time.
You whipped your head around only to see that the masked murderer was.. gone?
Before you could even stop and think for a moment, Billy rushed up to your window, climbing into the room. Oh dear god, it was like your prayers had finally been answered.
“Billy!” You breathed deeply, rushing towards him as if you were a small, frightened animal looking for your mother.
“I heard screaming,” Billy panicked. “The door’s locked. You all right?”
He watched you struggle to breathe properly out of pure fear. Fast, uneasy breaths. You clung to him, not letting go. Your sharp nails digging into his back. Not that he was bothered, that is.
“The killer’s here. He’s in the house! He’s in the house, he’s got a knife!” You cried, breathing in Billy’s cologne and masculine scent.
“He’s gone.” Billy said with a faint whisper, shushing you as you whimpered in his ear. “He’s gone, it’s alright.”
You were safe. You were in Billy’s arms for crying out loud! Everything was going to be fine.
A crash was heard as something had fallen out of your lover’s pocket, heading straight to the floor. You slowly turned your head around, staring directly at the item that had fell.
The phone.
You felt your throat close as it gave you that sickening, nauseating tingle you’d always hated. Your heartbeat became slower and slower. All you could do was stay in Billy’s arms, frozen out of fear before realisation truly hit.
Billy could feel the difference in your bodily functions, and cocked his head as you looked at him in horror, backing away.
“What?” He asked, his tone concerned.
You stared at your lover with pure disgust. Watching as he grew more and more confused. Your mind and mouth did not respond to his series of questions, demanding to know what was wrong and why you were looking at him with such terror.
Everything appeared to soon be ignored as you were only focused on one thing and one thing only.
Betrayal.
Your heart rate finally picked back up again, causing you to run out of the room. Billy followed behind, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t now until he realised you weren’t just running away, you were running away from HIM.
“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait! Wait, Y/n, wait!” Billy yelled, now full on going after you to get his answer.
You managed to get halfway down the stairs before he stopped chasing you, you could hear him screaming for you at the top of the staircase, leaning heavily onto the banister.
“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT! What’s going on?”
Your heart was in your throat whilst you could not believe what was happening right now. Too much, too soon.
“Y/n, come back!” He shrieked.
“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Now, Woodsboro Police Station:
Tears welled up in your eyes as those dark memories of tonight replayed, ones that would never quite leave your head.
“Y/n!” The same voice from your flashback called.
You looked up, slightly wincing at who you saw through the window of Sheriff Burk’s office.
Him.
Billy stared intensely at you from afar through the glass, his eyes filled with nothing but anger and never ending thoughts of confusion.
Yet, something else hid behind those eyes. A dark type of mystery you weren’t ready to know yet.
It was as if your lover felt the same feeling of betrayal you were experiencing yourself. But not betrayal because you’d suspected it was him trying to kill you, something else that was far different. Something worse.
I mean, you hadn’t did anything, right? It was Billy who had made himself look as guilty as he did. Far too suspicious for anyone to believe for the time being. Yet, his aura practically told you he showed no signs of guilt..
You began to sweat nervously as he continued to stare. What if, it truly had nothing to do with Billy? Had timing been your saviour tonight? Was he innocent enough to prove he had only arrived to your house to see you again?
A darker truth lay untold for now. The feeling of betrayal was mutual, but something else just told one a devious message about the other.
Something was coming.
Something, bad.
Something that in reality, was already here..
B
E
T
R
A
Y
A
L.
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nevernonline · 3 months
Text
✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.
entry #14; dressing for revenge.
synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.
𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.
𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt
𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.
𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃
word count: around 2k
warnings: mentions of drunk driving
masterlist ▸ 013 gut feelings and emotional dealings ▸ 015 leave it to the cullens. (part 1)
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The beeping of your front door pad got you sitting up on the couch to wait for the arrival of your best friend. Seokmin walked through the door alone, which almost shocked you because lately he hasn’t gone many places without his nerd tribe, you were happy for him finding good friends outside of you. 
“Seokminnie, hello gorgeous.” 
“Hey, baby.” 
You both met in the middle of your front entryway, wrapping him in a big hug, grateful you have someone who was always a constant in your life. 
Looking down at his empty hands confused you, you knew he mentioned he was going to be bringing snacks in with him, but they were nowhere to be found.
“Uh, where are these snacks you promised to bring me? Are you getting forgetful? You’re a little too young for that to start happening now, I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not?” 
“Yeah, about that. Uh-” 
“Vernon, Jun, and Wonwoo are here too aren’t they?” 
“Don’t be mad.” 
“Why would I be mad? Where are they?” 
“The hallway. You know before you-” 
Swinging open your door you saw the three other suspects standing in the hallway, covering the body of a fourth person who came alone for the ride, Minghao. 
“What is going on? Is he here to get in another fight or..”
“No, y/n we're here because we need to tell you something important, especially Minghao. I didn’t want to tell you beforehand so here we are. I think you guys should talk, the rest of us will go chill on the balcony for now, okay? And he brought you the snacks so be nice.” 
“Alright.” 
Crossing your arms in the doorway you make room for the boys to all pass through, without making eye contact with the one you weren’t sure if you should be happy showing up with them or not. 
“Hey, here.” 
Minghao standing in your apartment for a third time, looking as casual as you’ve ever seen him in a full black sweatsuit holding a white plastic bag with bags of chips peeking out the top, waiting for you to take it out of his grasp. Another thing you notice about him is his pink wrapped wrist sticking out from under his sleeve, his cast. 
“Thanks.” 
Grabbing the back and trying very hard to maintain your composure, you turned and placed it on your marble countertop, remembering the time he placed you on top of it to kiss you. 
Shaking it off you placed the frozen pint of half baked ice cream in the freezer and walked over to the couch, not giving him a second look before he sat across from you on the white sofa. 
“So you have something to tell me?” 
“Yeah, it's kind of a lot. So if you’ll just sit back and let me explain first before letting me know how you feel just please at least do me that favor.” 
“Go ahead.” 
Minghao took a deep breath in and eyed your bar cart before starting his conversation. Which you noticed right away and without any words, got up to grab an open bottle of tequila sitting on top, pouring him a glass and watching as he took a shot before you sat down again. 
“Thanks. So, the reason I was really upset last night and came to crash your date with Joshua is because I found out he was one of the people helping Mimi. I had suspicions before, but I was never sure enough to pin him to it until yesterday. I really tried to keep my composure but, when he told me to shut the fuck up and get out I couldn’t do it anymore. He was just acting so casual with you like he had nothing to do with any of it and it pissed me the fuck off. 
I really don’t know how to tell you the entirety of the story or what I know, but I can just start with saying I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if I caused you pain, y/n. I should’ve known from the moment I met you at Wonwoo’s that you weren’t the person Mimi made you out to be.
 A few months ago, when all of this started Mimi reached out to me to get help. She said she knew the girl who hurt my mom and wanted to help me meet her and confront her about it, but there was something I had to do for her first. Which was to help her blackmail you, befriend you so I can break your heart. That’s all she wanted me to do for her when it came to you. I had no idea she was going to go this far to hurt you. 
Joshua was the one who stole your journal for Mimi, which I know is weird and you’re probably wondering why or how he even knew where it was. I found out he got it from Minnie, she told him where it was. Well, I assumed this part for a while without proof, especially since the first post was from your apartment and she had all of those photos of you in her room. I don’t know how or why they were trying to hurt you so much or why she even was helping Mimi. I thought it was weird, but it’s all unconfirmed. I think Mingyu is helping too. There’s obviously a lot more we need to figure out before we can finally confront them. 
I just want you to know I did have a part in it at first, but I stopped the moment after I realized she was full of shit, which was the night you made me dinner and we had sex. I told her I wanted nothing to do with it anymore and that she was full of shit and she’s been threatening me ever since. 
The reason I think Mingyu and Minnie are helping her is because she came to the hospital last night, to threaten me one last time, I overheard her talking on the phone in the hallway, she said Joshua is fine and to act like they had no idea we got in a fight, Seokmin showed me some texts from Minnie and I know she sent a photo of me to your group chat at the bar with her. I never even saw her there. The reason why I was there in the first place was to essentially pretend to pledge my allegiance to her so I could get more information. 
When she went to the bathroom, I took her phone which was locked, but I saw a text from a group chat attached with three other code names, just emojis, but it was enough to assume it was Joshua, Mingyu, and Minnie. It was a Bunny, a Mouse, and a Dog. Am I even making sense? I don’t know anymore, but just know I never had any intention of hurting you once I found out the truth, I just wanted to help somehow and get back to getting to know you. 
I know you probably don’t want anything to do with me anymore, y/n. So if you want me to leave, I can. I’m just really sorry.” 
Sitting in silence for a few minutes, you weren’t sure if you were going to start crying or screaming at the top of your lungs, Minghao watched you take his glass and down the lukewarm tequila to wash away the rage in your gut and feel a different kind of burn. 
“So, you were helping Mimi?” 
“Yeah. For a while.” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“I’m not sure what to say, I guess.” 
“Oh. Right.” 
“How do I know I can trust everything you’re saying to me right now?” 
“I can show you text messages and proof I tried to get her to quit many times. I voice recorded her in the hospital last night telling me to back off. I can show you, that is if you want.” 
“Yeah, can I see?” 
Minghao opens a folder in his photos app and shows you screenshots of all the information he collected over the past few weeks, ever since the night he first told Mimi to let you off the hook. 
Scrolling through the images made your tears start to hit the brims of your eyes. You looked up for a moment at Minghao sitting and staring your way, watching your heart crush once more into tiny pieces. 
“Thanks.” 
“Sure.” 
“No, just thanks for being honest with me. Thank you for trying to make it better, even if you fucked up a little bit along the way. Not many people could own up to that. It’s actually impressive to know you’re so honest.” 
“I have no choice. This is the wrong time to say this too, but it might be my last chance. But, over the time I spent with you and the more I got to know you, y/n. I, uh, couldn’t help but start to fall in love with you, you’re incredibly impressive. The night at my gallery I wanted to tell you how I felt, but that didn’t end well for us either. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.” 
Pouring yourself another drink, one big enough to share with the boy across from you, you took a big swig and handed him the glass which he drank his share. 
“Look, Minghao this is probably against my better judgment and I hope it doesn’t end up biting me in the ass, but I was falling for you too and with any chance you still have feelings for me or whatever, I’d like to be friends with you, for real this time and just restart by getting to know each other honestly. And I mean you kind of did break your wrist defending me, so I feel like I cannot say no." 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, I know those dorks would never have brought you here if they didn’t think you deserved to tell me all of this yourself. So?” 
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 
“Cool, but no spending time alone for now, I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. Just friends okay?” 
“Just friends. Should we shake on it or drink on it?” 
“Hug, maybe? That’s a normal friendly thing. Oh, and let me sign your cast.” 
“Yeah, totally.” 
Minghao scooted his body closer to you and wrapped his unbound arm around your shoulders and gave you a half assed hug, which made you giggle. 
“Bitch, what was that?” 
“A hug? What? Bitch?” 
“Hao, if you call that a hug you are a bigger dumb ass than I thought, come on.” 
Turning your body towards him you wrapped your arms tightly under his armpits and pulled him in for a hug that almost felt like a new beginning. 
“Thank you, really, for telling me all of that.” 
“You deserved to know the truth, Swan.” 
“Wow. Now we can finish Twilight.” 
“That would be great.” 
“You know, I just remembered that they’re still sitting outside, should we play a prank on them?” 
“I like your style.” 
“Okay, I’m going to yell at you, very rudely, just get pissed and slam my front door. Got it?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
Standing up from the couch you positioned yourself in front of the window, so they can get a good listen through the blinds of your fake reeling into Minghao. 
Giving him a small nod to let him know you were going to begin, he smiled back ready to see your rage. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re a fucking lying piece of shit.” 
“Me? You’re such a bitch, y/n. Now I get why the fuck nobody wants to be around you.” 
“Thats rich, get the fuck out of my apartment.” 
Minghao leapt off the couch and ran to your front door slamming it behind him and stood outside of it to listen to the aftershocks of your fake conversation. 
He heard Seokmin and Jun asking you what happened, assuming Wonwoo and Vernon were standing there not knowing what to do in silence. 
Suddenly the door opened up to reveal Seokmin’s shocked face looking at Minghao standing in the hallway so casually with his arms crossed. 
“You guys fucking suck.” 
“Sorry, Seok. We had to.” 
“Get your stupid ass back inside.” 
Minghao walked back into your apartment with a fresh start on his mind, arm and arm with your best friend and a relief off his chest that you forgave him and he was able to be in your life, maybe not how he exactly wanted but more than he expected. 
Vernon made himself at home on your couch, wrapped up in the furry gray blanket you had thrown over the back. 
Wonwoo was situated pouring drinks into some glasses, while Jun was still giggling to himself on the floor. 
“So you guys are good?” 
You just nodded at the boy wrapped comfortably on the couch, batting his pretty brown eyes your way. 
“Yeah, but now we all have to take down the bad guys.” 
Smiles came from around the room as you grabbed a sharpie and situated yourself back on the couch, surrounded by friends who truly had your back all signing the cast of the boy who defended your honor.
On the way home Minghao couldn't help but think about the words on his cast, that were surrounded by small stars and your named signed below.
 'Without the dark, we'd never see the stars.'
A quote from twilight you remembered him whispering to you before falling asleep. Something to believe in.
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note: hiii we're v much in it now! all the aftermath of y/ns failed date with joshua and finally getting a peak I not who the backstabbers really are. I hope u guys enjoy!! also pls check out my next little snippet of my new smau for after this one, its def slightly more lighthearted but as a fan of drama they'll still be some hehe. ok thank u thank u love u. also unedited prob some typos or something but anyway. 🖤
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taglist:@sun-daddy-yoriichi@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo
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asha-mage · 8 months
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WoT Musing: Bits and Bobs from a book nerd
A few unsorted/random thoughts from a book mega nerd about various things in the show-
It's interesting to me that they changed Logain's innate talent from being able to see ta'veren to being able to see when a man can channel or not. This is practically probably because Mat was also in that scene, but I've also noticed that they've dialed back on the use of the term 'ta'veren' as a whole this season. Probably to avoid over cluttering all the concepts their having to introduce.
Elayne's desire to work with her hands/fascination with craftsmanship showing itself in her 'sparker trick' being a weave to make alcohol is very funny and on brand.
The show is continuing to walk out the small shifts in it's dynamics born of re-ordering things in a smart way. Everyone being slightly older was felt sharply in season 1: Mat's mischief and gambling is a whole lot less cute and a whole lot more worrying since he's no longer a teen, Perrin is married (like always intended to be) and settled as the most 'responsible' of the boys, etc. In season 2 Egwene arrived first instead of Elayne, and is the more experienced/knowing Novice, to Elayne's naive newcomer. As a result we get to see the slightly spoiled sweet girl she was before the Tower started to bust down her pride and teach her more about the world. She's a little more unsure, and a little more eager to make friends- both of which work in favor of showing off her strengths as a character, endearing her to both Egwene and the audience.
The choice to give Perrin the ability to see visions of the past with his wolf brother powers is interesting. I get that they need a visual way to express Perrin's wolf senses, and this is probably the most direct, since their's not a non-weird way to visually depict smell, but I hope we at least get a TAR related explanation from Elyas.
I find the use of the Crimson Thorn as a symbol of the Red Ajah and the cruel mercy that they grant to be fascinating. More over, I find Nynaeve's being pulled between the Red and Yellow Ajahs (something I suspect we are going to get more of) to be smartly done: Nynaeve has never been afraid of doing what needs to be done, but that doesn't make it easy, and Liandrin is right: to an extent that their always been a little bit of Red in her, a belief that the world would be better if everyone just followed her rules. And yet it is her compassion that defines her, that fuels her rage most of the time. Compassion for those hurt and sick and dying turns to rage against what caused it: a cruel world or a war or a sickness. Compassion for those she cares most for fuels her rage at those that would threaten, hurt, or control them. She left the Two Rivers to protect the EF5 and that remains her goal all the way to the series's end, her character arc is largely about accepting what that will mean, and learning not to be afraid to claim the power to do that.
I've said this in various other forms but it bares repeating: Lanfear really is winning right out the gate. She's got the hot new hardware LTT as her naive sugar baby, their is no one in sight to threaten her control over him with things like 'morals' and 'duty', and he's slowly succumbing to her influence. More then worth the price of having to run a small business in a slum I'm sure.
That said I want a 50k word fic that is just Lanfear's Adventures in Small Business Ownership. We know those drinks where over priced, but where they watered down? Did she have to pay a mortgage? Deal with uppity suppliers? Was their a Darkfriend Company Discount as Selene's Totally Normal And Not At All Evil Bed and Breakfast?
I have two nitpicks that are so minor they barely warrant discussion, and one is not even the show's fault. The first is that everyone keeps saying things like 'your powers' rather then 'strength in the power'. Jordan goes to so much trouble to make the point that people and objects don't have the power, they use it and strong in the power, and then Sanderson changed it to 'my powers' and 'how powerful he is' and *gargles*. This is like the peaches all over again.
The second is that as much as they nail the arches scene/ceremony, I wish they had gone the final mile and said 'Be steadfast'. It wasn't necessary exactly, but it's exclusion made me whisper under my breath, like a rhyme I just HAD to finish.
(This is completely normal and sane person behavior, stop looking at me like that internet stranger).
I don't have to much to say about Mat's story line beyond being VERY interested in where they are going tying him and Min together. I still needs to get off the ground for me to have more Thoughts.
Adeleas being Cringefail re: Lan is so funny to me in ways I can't quite explain.
I reiterate the point that since Rand's can't be Warder trained, giving him an old veteran blade master who is suffering from PTSD/Dementia was a VERY smart move that fits the feel of the books.
RIP Joshua's soft boy curls. You where a casualty of this war.
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aperrywilliams · 10 months
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My Inspiration (Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist!Reader)
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(Not my pic. Credits to the creator)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist!Reader
Summary: You’re having a creative block, and Spencer is there to help.
Word Count: 3.1k
TW: Nothing I can think of. Fluff in the way I like it. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world. Fight me.
A/N: I wrote this one for this request. Feel free to send me more requests.
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It's not like it didn't happen before. You were very aware of what a creative block was. In all honesty, you go through one every so often. This time though? It was taking a toll on you.
You have been spending two weeks working on your canvases without getting something you could call worthwhile.
It's not you don't have ideas to work with. You have plenty of them but nothing really to get you going. But you had compromised on having something for your friend's opening gallery exhibition. You thought a month would be enough, but now you lost two weeks, and the anxiety only increased.
It wasn't helping you were sulking alone in your apartment. Your boyfriend Spencer had left for a case in Los Angeles a week and a half ago, and the prospection of having a productive couple of days turned anything but that.
Today you were so adamant about getting something done that after tossing and turning awake in bed all night, you got up at dawn and locked yourself in your studio. Now it was 4 pm, and you didn't even remember if you had eaten anything during the day.
That also meant you left your phone in your room all day and didn't see Spencer's messages saying he was coming home.
When Spencer arrived at your shared apartment, he suspected you were working on something, and that's why you hadn't answered his messages.
But when he entered the room you were, he didn't expect to see you throwing your brushes toward the canvas before you, cursing profusely.
"Hey, what's wrong, love?" he asked you, concern dripping from his voice.
Hearing him talk brought you back, and you quickly turned to see him.
"Oh! Spencer! Baby! I didn't know you were coming home today," you tried to sound casual and chirping as you launched into his arms. It was a considerable contrast to the outburst happening just two seconds ago.
Spencer wrapped you in his arms, but after kissing your temple lovingly, he pulled back to meet your eyes. You saw the worry written in him.
"Something happened?" He asked you again.
You huffed in frustration. One thing was your creative block, but to worry Spencer about it was the less you wanted. You knew he had had a difficult week catching an unsub; why bother him with this kind of thing?
"It's nothing, really," you tried to dismiss, turning your gaze away from him and moving where your canvas was. You swore the empty textile was laughing at you.
"(Y/N)..." Spencer called you. It was enough for him to tell you he didn't believe you.
You have learned in your two years of relationship that Spencer can read you like a book. He would know something was happening, even if you tried to mask it. With a frown, Spencer took a look at your studio. He spotted several canvases at mid-finish scattered in a corner on the floor, a lot of messy draftings on your desk, and your smock seemed rumpled and dirtier than usual. If he needed to guess, you have been struggling with your work for at least a few days. But what gave you away was your tired face, the prominent dark circles under your eyes, and your messy hair. Feeling his eyes inspecting you made you feel terrible, and you didn't want to look at him back. Spencer took some steps forward and gently put one hand on your back to catch your attention. You shyly turned but were still afraid of looking up at him. He rested both hands on your shoulders.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?" he gently reminded you. "Is something related to those canvases?" he asked, although he knew the answer already.
"Yeah," you sheepishly replied. Your eyes shifted up until finding his gaze. You have been caught. What was the point of not admitting the truth? "I haven't been able to finish anything. I've been trying to direct my ideas for days, but I'm not getting anywhere. I have a creative block, and no matter how hard I've tried, I can't get enough inspiration to put my ideas on canvas," you sighed, defeated, with your lips quivering from the sudden urge to cry.
"Come here," Spencer quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace. You gave in and clutched to him as if your life depended on it, hiding your face in his chest. "It'll be okay. Maybe you need a little break," he suggested. "Why don't you rest for today, and we can do whatever you want. Take your mind off of it for a while. I think it would help."
It was a reasonable suggestion, but you were very stubborn. Spencer learned that early into your relationship. Parting from his embrace, you shook your head.
"No, Spencer. I can't. I need to finish this. I already promised Albert something for the gallery opening. I can't fail him," you explained, moving to your desk to grab a new sketch.
“(Y/N), if you have a block, it will not go away just because you push yourself to do it. Love, please, take a break. I promise it will help,” Spencer insisted, giving you his signature puppy eyes. How to say no to that?
Giving up, you strolled with Spencer to the living room and plopped on the couch. Before following your lead, Spencer asked, “Did you get lunch?”
As a cue, your stomach grumbled so loud Spencer could hear it. Your guilty face didn't help to disguise it.
“I thought so. Wait here.”
Spencer rushed to the kitchen, and a while later, he returned with a sandwich and a glass of water for you.
“Here, you need to eat,” he said, handing you the sandwich and sitting by your side. He settled the water on the coffee table.
You didn’t know how starved you were until you took the first bite. The sandwich and the water were gone just minutes later. Spencer kept a respectful silence, not wanting to bother you as you ate.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Spencer frowned.
“Why are you sorry?”
“You just came back, and you’re taking care of me. It should be me doing that to you,” you sheepishly explained.
“(Y/N), you don’t have to apologize. I’m your boyfriend, and I’m happy to do something for you,” he smiled at you, taking the tray from your lap and leaving it on the coffee table so you could settle more comfortably on the couch.
Crisscrossing your legs, you let out a deep sigh.
“I just feel awful. I’ve been trying to deal with this, but every day seems harder than the previous one. I don't know if it makes sense, and I don’t know why this time it feels worse,” you tried to explain. Spencer nodded.
"Well, it is a common occurrence, even if it doesn't feel like it. A recent survey indicated that 31% of creative professionals suffer creative blocks due to tight deadlines and 30% due to the unwillingness of clients to take creative risks,” Spencer informed you.
“Tight deadlines, uh? It wasn’t a tight deadline two weeks ago,” you argued. Spencer shook his head.
“Don’t do that,” he requested. You narrowed your eyes.
“Do what?”
“Take it as it is your fault. It's not.”
You huffed.
“But I think it is! I mean, I’m stuck here, and it's not that something bad is happening to me or someone is stressing me out. So it has to be my fault,” you shrugged.
“It's not. You know that. It had happened before, right?”
“Yeah, but this time- I don’t know. I - I feel so useless. Like I am a failure. And I don’t know what to do,” you whined. You hate being all fuzzy with this, but the lack of sleep and the stress didn't help to be calm about it. Spencer scooted to your side, grabbing both of your hands with his and tracing soothing patterns on them.
"Well, some studies have shown there are three elements to focus on when trying to overcome creative block and get productive again. The first is to veer from pursuing meaning to making meaning, which implicates identifying and engaging in meaning-making activities, not only making art. Second, you must get out of your head and actually do work, engaging in a recursive process where you can learn what the piece is about, making it rather than by planning, dreaming, and obsessing about it. Finally, to develop a genuine sense that it is okay not always to be perfect. The researchers say most people tend to know this conceptually but still have not allowed themself it at a deeper level."
You hummed, taking in his words.
“Sounds easy,” you mumbled incredulously. Spencer chuckled.
“I know. Easy said than done. But we can start with the second one. And that means you are not authorized to back to your studio until tomorrow,” Spencer informed you.
“What? No! I can’t do that. I need-“ Spencer softly squeezed your hand to stop the rant you were about to initiate.
“(Y/N), I don’t even go to try to guess when was the last day you slept enough, but I can see it, and if you want to get out of your head, you need to sleep. I promise you will return to work soon, just not today, okay?” Spencer shifted on the couch to lie full on it, opening his arms for you.
Spencer was right; you knew it. So you stopped fighting against it. Pouting, you accepted his offer and cuddled with him. Felling his embrace dissipated any reluctance you could still have on you. Softly stroking your back, Spencer lulled you into sleep in no time.
The time you woke up, the first thing you noticed was you were wrapped in a cozy blanket. The second: Spencer wasn’t there with you. Still dizzy from the sleep, you sat to check your surroundings. On the coffee table, you saw a piece of paper with your name on it. Narrowing your eyes, you took the piece of paper and unfolded it.
It was a note in Spencer’s handwriting.
‘My love,
I hope the nap was good. I needed to run some errands, and I didn't want you to wake up just yet.
If it is okay with you, I want us to have a special dinner tonight. So get ready and meet me at nine in the park across the street.
Always yours,
Spencer.’
A smile tugged at your lips. You checked the time, and you had one hour to get ready and meet Spencer.
At nine, you were crossing the park to where you knew Spencer was. When he saw you coming, he stood from the bench, grinning at you.
God, you loved that smile on him.
“Hey beautiful, how was your nap?” he asked, reaching for your hand. You gladly complied, interviewing your fingers with his.
“Pretty good. I must say I was a bit disappointed when I didn't see you by my side, though,” you pouted dramatically to what Spencer chuckled.
“About that, I hope I can make it up to you tonight. Shall we?” He asked, signaling to the street ahead.
“Sure. Where are we going?”
Spencer shook his head.
“Nu-hu. I can’t tell you. It's a surprise.”
You guys took a cab to Penn Quarter and then walked for a while. You still couldn’t make it where you were going. You were passing a neighborhood full of restaurants and places you could visit, but Spencer didn't slow down the pace until you reached a big old building. Looking up and down the front, you recognized it then. It was the Smithsonian American Art Museum.
“What are we doing at the SAAM?”
“What do people do at a museum?” Spencer teased, a grin plastered on his face.
“Yeah, I know. But most people can’t visit after 7 pm,” you pointed. That didn’t make to go away Spencer’s smile.
“Most people can’t make a call and ask a favor from a friend who works here,” he shrugged. “Come on, let's go inside.”
After greeting the guard who let you in, you walked down a long corridor to a set of stairs. You went up to the second floor, and without letting go of your hand, Spencer led you down another hallway to a smaller room. This was illuminated with a warm light. Several paintings were hanging from the wall—some you immediately recognized.
It couldn’t be. Right?
You knew the museum would run an exhibition about the history of color, but it wasn't scheduled until a few weeks more. You have been hyperventilating about it for months, and now you were looking at some of the pieces you knew would be there.
“Spencer? Those are-?” You could barely articulate.
“Yes. I would like to say these are all the pieces for the exhibition, but some haven’t arrived yet,” he explained, surveying the room.
You were so dumbfounded that you didn't know what to say, so instead, you jumped into Spencer’s arms with such force that you nearly knocked the air out of his lungs. That’s when you notice the center of the room. There was a little table set for two, with a bottle of wine, glasses, and candles lighting. He followed your line of sight and grabbed your hand.
“I thought we could have dinner here too so we can have more time to appreciate everything, don't you think?”
You grinned, still amazed by everything but mainly by the man before you.
“Spencer Reid, you are something else,” you mumbled before resting your palms on his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. You kissed him with your heart and soul. You didn't recall someone doing for you something like this before.
When you parted, he rested his forehead on yours.
“I must assume that you liked the surprise,” he concluded. You laughed, patting his chest.
“Don’t get cocky on me, Dr. Reid. You still have to give me the description of each piece in this room,” you anticipated making Spencer smirk.
“Yes, ma’am. But first, dinner,” he announced, signaling the table.
While you ate dinner, you couldn't stop looking around you. You were surrounded by so much talent and beauty that it could have been overwhelming, but the truth wasn’t like that, quite the opposite. The beauty of each piece adorning the walls accompanied the beauty of a unique moment with the wonderful man sitting in front of you. Was this finding meaningful? Partly yes.
After dinner, hand in hand, you walked the length of the room, examining each piece. And just like you requested, Spencer had something to say about each one.
"Did you know people have been painting for as long as 30,000 years? The Early Cave paintings were drawn with red or yellow ochre, hematite, manganese oxide, and charcoal and may have been made by early Homo sapiens as long as 30,000 years ago. These would have been ground to make up a primitive paint substance. Other ingredients used were animal blood and fat,” he explained, as you were looking at a replica of a primitive painting.
"Before the emergence of linseed oil in the paint, artists had to mix the dried pigments into a paste using egg yolk. Can you imagine that?”
You laughed at his expression.
“I would say it was a waste of food,” you quipped, making Spencer chuckle.
You moved to another piece that showed an artist from the XIX century painting on a canvas, with a bowl next to him.
"Artists used to store their paint in animal bladders. The bladder was fashioned into pretty purses until the paint tube was invented in 1841,” Spencer informed.
“Yuk!” You complained. “I didn't know that!”
“Sorry, I won’t develop more about that in the future,” he apologized, moving to another painting.
“Thanks, baby.”
You kept walking and admiring each piece. There wasn’t any rush, and you even forgot about your creative block. On the contrary, this was flooding you with ideas and energy.
"Linseed oil was in short supply during World War II, forcing paint manufacturers to research other options. This led to the invention of artificial resins, which were cheap, held the color well, and lasted a long time. The resin was patented in 1915 by Otto Rohm from Germany. It continued to be developed until it became widely available," Spencer explained, pointing to a canvas comparing linseed oil and resin.
“Thanks, Mr. Rohm. My job is better, thanks to the resin,” you pointed appreciatively. Spencer nodded.
The tour continued, and you swore you didn’t want it to end, but at some point, your focus wasn’t anymore on the paintings but on your boyfriend.
You should have been paying attention to the piece of art in front of you. It was the reason Spencer brought you here, right? But you couldn't avert your gaze from him, mesmerized by how his eyes sparkled, explaining why Rembrant never could use green in his paintings. Spencer moved his hands enthusiastically, eager to share every detail he knew with you. You couldn't help but stare at him wet his lips every time he finished a sentence, the way his nose scrunched up when he tried to read the description in the foot of the paint. The way mindlessly his fingers played with yours as you walked hand in hand by the gallery.
Then it hit you. You could have done this by yourself, and you would never feel your heart so full as you had it now. It wasn’t the exhibition itself. It wasn’t the act to witness the beauty of each piece what you needed to get inspired and overcome your block. You needed to feel it, and for that, Spencer was the missing piece. Your love, your biggest fan, the man who believes in you and loves you for what you are and not for what you have done or not.
That’s what true inspiration is—experiencing your own life in the deepest, feeling the pain, the happiness, the love, and wanting to tell the world what’s for you through a canvas.
The realization made you smile and be grateful for the most important person you had the luck to love. That’s why Spencer saw you staring at him and asked if something was wrong; you shooked your head and, after kissing him passionately, whispered:
“I love you, Spencer Reid. My heart is yours, and the world will know it.”
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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lesbicosmos · 4 months
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rewatching s1 of broadchurch even tho im halfway through my first watch of s3 because i have an obsession with rewatching things and DAMN there are way more hints at who ended up being the killer than i originally thought, and a bunch of moments that are really ironic in hindsight
spoilers under the cut (yes it came out like 10 years ago but im still putting a spoiler warning)
ep1 - joe and ellie talk in the kitchen after hardy makes the statement to the media
joe: do you know what happened? i mean should we be worried for other kids?
on first watch, his tone of voice and body language here just seem like confused and worried parent, but on second, there's definitely a hint of panic in his voice
ep2 - joe, tom and fred in the cafe
joe: this is a terrible, unspeakable thing thats happened. but nothing like it will ever happen again here
tom: you cant know that though can you? you cant be sure
then after this joe's facial expression looks SO guilty like he can't think how to respond
ep3 - hardy questioning tom with joe in the room
hardy: can you think of anyone who would want to hurt danny?
THEN THE CAMERA IMMEDIATELY CUTS TO JOE. ik near the end joe swears he never wanted to hurt him but this is still a rly clever piece of editing, i love when shows do this. also the fact that in every scene where he's questioning tom, joe's in the room and occasionally talks but he's never in the frame of the camera hardys using to record it. he was literally right under their noses the entire time and they never suspected because they were focused on other people too much
ep4 hardy goes to the millers" for dinner
this scene hits so much different on second viewing holy shit. at one point they're talking about marriage and work and how hardy's divorce was partially work-related and:
hardy: this job, it does it to you
ellie: well, not to us
ellie actually makes me sob she loves her life so much then it all just comes crashing down on her
joe: do you think you're gonna solve this case?
hardy: certain.
joe: good :)
joe's reply itself here makes sense but there's a few seconds before he says it where his face is just blank and mildly panicked. he's genuinely worrying about being caught at this point.
now this one isn't a direct hint or anything but just if you think about the dialogue in a different context...yeah it fits
hardy: you bloody liar
joe: ive said nothing
hardy: and yet-
joe said nothing to the police or ellie and yet was lying the WHOLE time.
ep5 - brian asks ellie out
ellie: sorry, im married
brian: and thats an issue is it?
ellie: happily married, brian
brian: oh. okay, fair enough. only lots of people aren't though, are they?
ellie: i am.
THE IRONY OH ELLIE LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG PLEASE
ep6 - jack's wake
ellie spends the whole scene looking around to see if anyone looks worried, at one point she looks into a room (seemingly at nige but joe is stood nearby having a different conversation) and she makes eye contact with joe RIGHT as the camera cuts away
ep 6 - joe takes tom to the skate park and ellie arrives
ellie: i was just looking round that bar at the wake thinking "its someone here, why cant i see it?" the longer this goes on, im starting to suspect everyone
joe: when you say everyone...
ellie: well, nearly everyone
this is probably the most obvious hint that i can't believe i didn't catch on to. of COURSE they're gonna make a point for the killer to be the ONE person ellie LITERALLY SAYS she isn't suspicious of.
ep7 - ellie lets susan leave the police station
ellie (about susan's past with her husband and daughters): in your own house, how could you not know?
just ow. the irony of it all. fucking ow.
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jahayla-parker · 5 months
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Uncharted Territory : Tom Holland x Reader
Description: 9.1k wc, Reader finds herself working on the set of one of Tom’s movies in an attempt to escape her stalker. Only, it seems she can’t outrun her troubles even in another country. This means y/n and Tom find themselves in uncharted territory as they try to navigate their way through the ordeal. Dark, stalker, hurt comfort, protective, injury comfort, angst to fluff. Happy ending.
Warnings: dark theme(s), violence, curse words, guns and gunshots, wounds/injuries, blood/bleeding, stalkers, stalker behavior, break-ins, and related.
This was a Ko-fi request by the lovely @theslayerofthevampires Thank you again for the support 💜
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“You coming?” Tom asked as he approached y/n. He and a few others from the cast and crew were going out for drinks. He’d worked with y/n by now, but hadn’t spent much time with her outside of work.
Y/n gave Tom an appreciate smile but shook her head. “No, but thank you,” she replied politely.
“Do you prefer to do something else instead?” Tom offered with a smile.
“Oh,” y/n startled. “No, that’s okay,” she promised. She felt bad, Tom had always been nice and was going out of his way to make sure she was invited tonight. But, she couldn’t accept the offer, it would make her too susceptible to having her past repeated.
“Have I offended you in some way?” Tom asked gently, his smile having disappeared.
“What?” Y/n gushed as she shook her head quickly. “No, of course not!” She replied.
“Okay, well if you decide to join us all later, you know where we’ll be,” Tom proposed, a faint smile on his face again.
Y/n gave Tom another small smile and nodded. She felt bad, and truly wanted to be able to go. But she couldn’t risk getting close. Especially not to a guy. She had came all the way to Berlin for work in order to get away, she wasn’t going to undo that.
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Y/n groaned to herself as she cleaned up her table. Today had been a total disaster. It was one thing after another. They’d basically got nothing done on set today and the director wasn’t handling it well.
“Ice cream is on me,” Tom commented warmly as he appeared from around the corner.
Y/n quickly looked up and visibly hesitated. But, she was quick to see how Tom’s immediate reaction to her hesitation showed he’d taken it personally. She had rejected spending time with him since they met. Although to be fair, she’d done that with everyone since she arrived. Only, the others had quickly given up on her ending her isolation; whereas Tom hadn’t. Y/n knew she had likely been being paranoid. Nothing had really happened since she arrived. And she was kinda tired of spending each night alone and having no one to talk to. Perhaps ice-cream with a co-worker wasn’t the end of the world. “Okay, sure,” she agreed.
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It came as a surprise to herself, but y/n found herself and Tom growing closer over the last few weeks. In fact, she actually now considered him a friend. It was strange and slightly worrisome still, but also comforting. Especially given she was certain she was slowly losing her mind to her paranoia.
Y/n had gotten a handful of calls from unknown numbers over the past two days. All of which were silent when she would answer. She knew odds were it was simply telemarketers, but it still made her anxious. So spending time hanging out with Tom was helpful in that it distracted her from the suspicious calls.
While they’d certainly gotten closer lately, y/n still hadn’t expected for Tom to ask her out today during lunch. She also hadn’t expected herself to say yes so quickly and freely. Granted, that breeziness didn’t last long. As y/n was now in an empty bathroom stall as she tried not to suffer a panic attack.
Y/n knew she had feelings for Tom, but that was simply another reason she tried to stay away from him when they first met. However, as they’d hung out together as friends, her feelings only grew. He was just as respectful and friendly as she suspected he was upon seeing him interact with others the day he had arrived on set here in Berlin. Perhaps that’s why she was so comfortable accepting his offer instead of letting her paranoia cloud her mind and change her decision. She didn’t regret it, but she knew she’d need to still be on edge. At least until she could somehow ensure she could determine he wasn’t like Michael.
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Y/n smiled to herself as she walked into her rental. She quickly locked the door behind her, but the smile didn’t leave her face. She’d just gotten back from her latest date with Tom and had a wonderful night.
Y/N’s smile evaporated the second she entered her tiny kitchenette area. She squinted hesitantly at the counter. There was a small pile of mail she’d opened but not dealt with yet on her counter. That wasn’t the odd part though; she’d left that there this morning. What was concerning was y/n swore she’d left her pen directly on top of the pile of mail. Only now the pen was haphazardly set to the side of the stack of documents.
Y/n sighed loudly as she ran her hands down her face. It could’ve rolled off the top of the stack; it was a pen after all. She was just being paranoid again and looking for trouble. Things had been going too well lately that her mind was getting defensive. She just needed to calm down. Surely if someone had been in here, there’d be other signs of it.
Y/n took a deep breath and decided to double check that she’d locked the door. Once she was sure that it was locked, she made her way to her bedroom space and plugged her phone in before it could die in case she needed it tonight. She then grabbed her bottle of anxiety meds from beside her bed and took one. Surely after enough time, she’d not need them anymore. She just had to let herself see that she was safe now. Time would help with that.
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“Come on, love,” Tom nudged teasingly as he snuggled up to y/n. They’d been sharing crazy stories about how something that went wrong resulted in something positive down the road. Tom had explained how his Uber driver had told him he wasn’t going to get the role of Spider-Man while he was on the way to his audition. He had told y/n how as much as it had hurt and seemed like a bad omen, it actually increased his nerves and made him have this buzzing energy that matched Peter Parker’s character really well. Y/n had vaguely answered Tom’s question by stating that her ending up as part of the production crew for the movie they were working on and had met through (Uncharted) was actually the result of a situation gone wrong back home.
“It’s not fun like yours,” y/n explained with a fake light laugh.
Tom noticed the way y/n wouldn’t look at him and how her hands started to shake slightly. He quickly grabbed her hands and squeezed them tightly. “‘ey, love, it’s okay,” he promised. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay”.
“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, filled with guilt.
Tom nodded quickly. “Of course, darling, you don’t have to answer. I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t answer just because it has a different tone in nature than my story,” he explained.
“It’s a bit dark,” y/n admitted, staring up at Tom.
Tom nodded again. “That’s okay, if you want to talk about it, I’m here,” he promised, kissing her cheek.
“I don’t want you to see me differently,” y/n mumbled quietly, her eyes staring at her lap.
Tom frowned. “Y/n, I don’t know what’s going on,” he acknowledged softly. “But, I promise you that won’t happen, love,” Tom vowed.
Y/N’s eyes lifted up and she stared at Tom I’m silence for a moment, contemplating. “Okay,” she whispered. She took an audibly deep breath. “So… I- I ended up here because I had to get away from someone back home,” y/n explained vaguely. “I basically ran… changed my info and fled.” “And, yeah, that’s what brought me to Berlin,” she laughed humorlessly.
“You had to get away from someone?” Tom questioned cautiously. “Was it an ex?” he wondered out loud.
“No.” Y/n shook her head. “Not exactly… He-he wanted to be, I guess..,” she replied. “But we were just friends”. Her hands shook slightly as she recalled how it went down.
“I see, I’m sorry, love,” Tom said gently. “Did he hurt you?” He questioned, his worried eyes scanning y/n.
“No,” y/n answered quickly. Upon seeing Tom’s visible disbelief, she sighed. “Not physically at least,” she explained.
Tom nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It sounds crazy,” y/n admitted.
Tom frowned and took ahold of y/n’s shaking hands. “He stalked you,” he guessed.
“How did-“ y/n panicked.
“I’ve had experience with stalkers before, they make you feel constantly on edge,” Tom sympathized. “That’s the only explanation for why you would think it would sound crazy,” he acknowledged. “Plus, love, it explains why you were so distant before”.
Y/n’s gaze dropped from Tom’s face guiltily. “Yeah… sorry about that,” she mumbled.
Tom lovingly squeezed y/n’s hand as he held her closer. “Don’t be.” “Just know, I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” he whispered into her hair.
“Tom,” y/n sighed.
“I do not mean to minimize what you went though,” Tom promised. “I simply do not want you to have to live in fear. I’ll help keep you safe as best as I can.” “I can get you some security if you need for when filming is over and you go back,” he offered calmly, smiling faintly as y/n relaxed some and leaned into him more.
Y/n smiled shyly but appreciatively.
Tom and y/n sat quietly for a little, Tom letting her steady her breathing. However, he noticed how she seemed to be bendy looking around the room. This helped him realize that while her breathing had slowed, she was clearly still somewhat distraught. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, holding her hands tightly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I-,” y/n looked up at Tom. She shook her head. “I d-do-don’t think so,” she stuttered. She curled the side of her lip up out of self pity. “I mean, I got a restraining order, ch-changed my name, flew to Berlin,” she trailed off, “but…”
“But?” Tom pressed.
“I still panic over every weird occurrence,” y/n blurted.
Tom squinted. He tried to trace back the areas y/n had been nervously looking at earlier for clues. “What do you mean?”
“It sounds paranoid without context… Maybe even with context… but,” y/n rambled bashfully.
Tom squeezed y/n’s hands supportively. “If you want to provide me with the context, I’m open to hearing it. Either way, I doubt it’ll sound paranoid knowing what you said you went through,” he sympathized.
Y/n nodded in agreement. “It’s kinda a long story,” she warned.
“I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to you, love,” Tom said.
Y/n bit back a small smile. It wasn’t hard when her focus shifted from Tom’s kind words to what she was about to disclose. “I… had this friend, Michael,” she murmured. “H-he and I would go to the movies, or hangout together a lot. He never asked me out; which is good, ‘cause I never saw him that way”. She frowned as she continued her story. “Yet, it was because of that that I didn’t know he saw me that way. Not until he started getting a bit possessive when I spent more time with other people.” She looked up nervously, only to be greeted by Tom’s compassionate gaze. “I didn’t realize how bad it was until I was staying with my cousin and his wife one weekend and posted about it… Michael got mad and … and asked who it was, why I didn’t tell him, and all of that kind of stuff.”
Y/n tucked her legs under her as she hesitantly let herself lean into Tom’s comforting embrace. “We got into a fight over it,” she recalled as Tom rubbed her back, “I said I needed space to myself in order to see if we could still stay friends after the weirdness.” She groaned to herself as the memories flowed. “I thought he was respecting that… but instead, he just started hiding his possessive traits.”
“It took me what I think was maybe, a week, to notice that he was following me,” y/n confessed with a scowl. “When I called him out on it, he apologized and… and pl-pleaded to let him make it up to me.” She shivered faintly, recovering when Tom rubbed her bare arms lovingly. “I told him that I needed to think and he began calling me, all day, every day, every hour of the night, to try to get through to me. I told him to stop but he didn’t.” She gritted her teeth as she reprocessed the events. “I blocked him… and then he started showing up everywhere and these ‘gifts’ started arriving at my house.” Y/n shook her head against Tom’s chest out of frustration. “I got a restraining order as I’d ran out of options, but the police did nothing as they said it was coincidental and I couldn’t prove it was him,” she explained.
Y/n wrapped her arms around Tom’s waist as he continued to hold her. “The part where I ended up here because of it, happened to be that, one night, I got a call saying that I was offered a spot on the production crew for Uncharted that I’d applied for months before.” She smiled faintly as she spoke about her change in luck. “I had my friend verify the offer, so I knew it wasn’t a trap from him,” y/n detailed. “When she mentioned the only issue she saw was that it was in Berlin, I saw it as a chance. I immediately changed my last name so that it wouldn’t show on any passports or flight registries, ordered a new emergency-rushed passport, and flew out here,” she concluded. “So, yeah, that’s me,” y/n added in an attempt to soften the tension caused by the rest of her words.
“That’s not you,” Tom murmured. He pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head.
“What?” Y/n whimpered in a hushed voice.
“That’s something you went through,” Tom acknowledged with a frown. “But, it’s not who you are, y/n,” he soothed. He tightened his grip on her as she melted into his side. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with that.” Tom took a deep breath and intentionally focused on making his voice as soft as possible. “But, I have to ask, when you said there was something you were going to say that would make you sound paranoid, what was it?”
“Oh,” y/n laughed to herself. “That,” she mumbled, “right”. “Well,” she sighed loudly, “it’s just..”. A few moments of silence passed after she had trailed off before y/n spoke again. “See that picture frame?” Y/n asked as she pointed across the room to the shelf by her TV.
Tom nodded. “Yes, the one with you, and who I’m assuming is a friend of yours?” he asked to confirm he had tracked y/n’s finger-pointing back to the correct frame.
“Yeah,” y/n agreed.
Tom nodded again.
“Well, I…” y/n sighed. She truly felt crazy. “I could’ve sworn it was at a slightly different angle yesterday,” she admitted.
“Hmm,” Tom nodded. He looked around her room as he asked, “anything else?”
“What?” Y/n questioned, having been caught off guard by Tom’s response.
“Have you noticed anything else out of place?” Tom clarified.
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Y/n asked, her eyes slightly widened.
“Not in the least,” Tom argued. “Hopefully it’s nothing,” he reassured, “but the fear is valid, and it doesn’t hurt to consider the possibility”. He wrapped his arms more securely around y/n in hopes it would help her feel protected and safe now.
Y/n was beyond appreciative over having been respected about what she felt might be paranoia. “Ummm, well…,” she mumbled. After reminding herself that Tom seemed to trust her instincts, she felt comfortable continuing to explain the weird things that had been occurring. “I’ve also been getting weird calls… with no one on the other end.”
Tom’s brows furrowed as he gazed down at y/n. He pouted to himself. “How long ago was this?” he asked.
“I got one earlier today,” y/n informed Tom.
Tom nodded. He gently tilted y/n’s head up so he could look into her eyes. “If it happens again, can you let me answer?”
“You want to answer it?” Y/n questioned in bewilderment.
Tom simply nodded. “I was sincere when I said I want to help,” he promised.
“Okay,” y/n nodded. “Thank you”.
“No,” Tom whispered, stroking y/n’s cheek. “Thank you for being willing to let me know and trusting me to help”.
“Tom…” y/n trailed off. Her hesitant eyes were focused in on Tom’s patient ones.
“Yeah?” Tom replied.
Y/n bit her bottom lip. “I wanted to explain that’s also why I… asked for us to stay a secret,” she frowned. “I don’t want my face getting out there, you know..”
“Of course,” Tom gushed supportively. “And darling, you don’t have to explain things like that, it’s your choice, my love.” He smiled softly as he ran his thumb over y/n’s cheek. “Nonetheless, I completely understand.”
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“STOP!” Y/n shouted, her body violently flying forward from her sleeping position. She felt the air from the fan tickling her sweaty forehead. Her eyes were widened and she felt dehydrated. She felt someone grab her hand, causing her distant startled gaze to snap towards where her hand was resting on the bed. She quickly traced the hand back until she saw Tom watching her worriedly.
Y/n let out a shaky choked sob. Her eyes shifted away from Tom’s face in embarrassment. She felt him cautiously wrap his arms around her and bring her to his chest. “I’m… I…I’m sorry, T-Tom,” she apologized.
Tom gently shushed y/n and rubbed her back as she buried her face into his torso. He frowned to himself, hating that the woman he loved was so traumatized. He whispered soothing words as he held her tightly. He made sure to let her know that she was safe and that it was okay that she reacted this way to her nightmare.
Tom had almost gotten y/n back to a completely calm state when her phone began to ring. He felt her stiffen in his arms, making his frown return. He quickly reached over to the nightstand and picked up her cellphone. Tom squinted at the screen angrily but upon feeling y/n shimmy against him to try to see, he tilted the screen for her so she could check it first.
When y/n froze upon seeing the unknown number on her phone yet again, Tom delicately pulled her back to him. “Is it the silent call?” He asked her. Upon her nodding slowly, Tom shifted his jaw and pressed answer as he moved the phone to his ear.
“Hello?” Tom answered. He heard nothing in the background. Not even things or people shuffling around. The other side of the call was completely silent. “Either respond now, or stop calling this number,” Tom commanded. He waited for a response, but still, none came. He glared at the phone as the line went dead.
Tom silenced y/n’s phone before placing it back where he’d gotten it from. He adjusted the blankets to completely cover y/n’s shaking frame. Once she was covered properly, he securely wrapped his arms around her as he began to try and soothe her again.
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The night Tom had learned about y/n’s history and comforted her after her related nightmare, the couple hardly slept as she was on edge for awhile after the call. But, after that night these weird occurrences suddenly stopped. It was so sudden in fact, that y/n was a bit fearful that Tom might be connected to Michael somehow. However, she calmed herself down and realized that was crazy as Michael wouldn’t have stopped now because of that even if Tom did have a secret connection to him; there would’ve been no reason to. In fact, one would expect if that were the case for Michael to feel more comfortable and increase his stalking behaviors. So, y/n figured she was just being paranoid from the very start as it had now been over two weeks without anything weird happening.
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Y/n yawned lightly as she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside. Her tiredness quickly turned to glee upon seeing the decorations Tom must’ve set up. They had agreed to staying in for date night tonight. Y/n had given him her spare key since she knew she’d be having to work at least an extra hour longer than he did on set today. She figured he could let himself in and get comfortable until she got there. She’d texted him about twenty minutes ago to let him know she was finally done on set. Given the romantic dinner that was currently set for two and rose petals covering the floor, he must’ve utilized that extra time to set this up. While she’d been expecting a more casual night in, she appreciated the sentiment.
Y/n walked further into her apartment, blissfully unaware to what was about to happen. Just as she’d approached the dining table, she felt a cold metallic pressure on the side of her head. Her body began to panic but she forced her mind to remain calm. Y/n turned at a glacial speed towards where the cold metal sensation was. Michael. She swallowed thickly as her dramatically widened eyes took in the way her stalker was suddenly standing directly beside her, a handgun barrel pressed against her head. Before she could find the words to say, or any words that is, Michael gripped her shoulder and motioned for her to sit.
Y/n’s hands nervously sat in her lap as she gazed across the decorated dining table. Michael was already staring back at her. While his appearance still filled her with terror, it was slightly better than it had been with the gun pressed against her.
“Eat, beautiful girl,” Michael said, waving the gun loosely around as he used it to point to y/n’s plate. “Come on, it’s our date night,” he encouraged when she didn’t move, “wouldn’t want the food to get cold”.
Y/n eyed the overbooked steak on the plate in front of her. Had Michael poisoned it? Would he do that? He liked her right? So surely he wouldn’t want her dead.. right? Had he somehow figured out about her relationship with Tom? If so, was that enough to make him try to poison her in retaliation? It’s not like she was even hungry. Not anymore. Any appetite she had when she walked in the door left the second she saw him. But she didn’t want to piss Michael off by not eating it either. Perhaps she could play it off.
Y/n poked her fork at the steak. “I.. uhh… I was actually going to try being vegetarian,” she lied.
“Since when?” Michael asked, seemingly deeply interested in the topic.
“I’ve thought about it for awhile,” y/n said slowly as she inventoried her surroundings. “A co-worker… o-on set showed me.. a… a video today though,” she rambled, biting her lip as she realized her only possible escape would be the front door.
“A vegan propaganda video,” Michael commented judgingly with a look of irritation on his face.
Y/n nodded nervously, her fear returning as her eyes made their way back to the gun in Michael’s hand.
“No worries, babe,” Michael said casually, “it’s sweet you care that much”. “We can still enjoy our night together,” he grinned.
Y/n nodded anxiously yet again, not wanting to offend Michael. “What are you doing here?” She asked. As appalling as this was, at least he was having positive feelings for her not anger against her at the moment. She hoped to keep it that way while also finding a way through this. If she somehow survived the night with him, maybe she could sneakily tell Tom tomorrow on set? Tom. How was she going to warn him to stay away? Did she want him to? Or did she selfishly want him to come over and help her? Could he help her? Was it selfish of her to want him to?
"I’ll have you know,” Michael groaned as he set his gun on the table beside his plate. He paused as he took a moment to enjoy a bite of his overcooked steak. “It wasn’t easy, you were really hard to track down, you know that," he complained.
Y/n’s brows furrowed. Not hard enough, evidently. “Oh,” she whispered. “How did you?” Y/n dared ask even though her voice shook as she worried if Michael would take offense to the question.
Michael actually appeared happy when the question left y/n’s mouth. He smirked as he pulled out his phone. The smirk shifted to a grimace as he glared at something pulled up on the screen. A few seconds later, Michael turned the screen towards y/n to show her.
On Michael’s phone was a picture of y/n and Tom. Given the weird angle and the setting, y/n knew it had clearly been taken by either a fan or paparazzi. Fortunately, as to not further anger Michael, the photo was innocent enough. In the unauthorized photo, y/n was sitting very closely to Tom and he had his arm over her; but that was it. The unfortunate part was that it was taken without their knowledge and leaked online for anyone to see; including her stalker Michael.
“Your new guy friend seems to have a large social presence,” Michael commented with blatant disgust.
Y/n ignored Michael’s attempt to act as if he hadn’t heard of Tom Holland before seeing the photo of her and him together. She nodded slowly, “that’s how.. How you knew I was in Berlin…”. Y/n placed her arms on the table, intentionally laying them over the utensils. She ignored the way the ends of the silverware dug into her skin as she asked Michael how he got inside her apartment.
“That was a bit trickier,” Michael confessed, but was still smug about it. “Especially given the name change,” he tsked. “Which, is too bad. I liked your real last name babe,” he complimented, reaching out and taking hold of y/n’s hands across the table.
Y/n froze and her body tensed. She couldn’t pull away without upsetting Michael. But it made her physically nauseated to be touching him. Or rather, to have him touching her.
Michael took y/n’s sudden tension as an implication that she felt bad about changing her last name. “It’s okay honey,” he nearly purred, squeezing her hands for good measure. “Both are nice. Any name is nice on you.” Michael let go of her hands as he resumed eating his meal. “Anyways, dear, to answer your question,” he mumbled with food in his mouth. “Once I went through the list of names for the cast and crew, I realized the name change, but thought it was just a mistake.” He shrugged casually as he continued, “nonetheless, I then name dropped your new last name when I got to set and asked for an extra key”. He smirked to himself, his eyes flickering up to meet y/n’s . “I’m sure you’re wondering how I was able to get one,” he said excitedly. “I pretended to be one of your co-workers who was running behind on their tasks and needed to get some papers you had left at home by accident and said I didn’t have time to get the key from you directly,” he bragged.
Y/n slowly dragged her arms back to her. She was careful to do it gradually as to not accidentally drop the streak knife on the floor in the process. As good of a plan as it was, she still felt very stupid in that moment. She should’ve told the others on set about Michael. She’d wanted to get away and leave it all behind her. But by not telling anyone, she let him worm his way back into her life so easily. She should’ve told the crew so they’d not be so naïve. But it was too late for that now. “Wow,” she murmured, hoping it came across as being impressed and not terrified. “S-so,.. wh-when did you get here?” Y/n questioned as her wrists hit the edge of the table. The serrated knife dropped to her lap; the sound muffled by her question.
“Nearly a month ago,” Michael answered breezily.
“What?” Y/n gasped, practically choking on air. A month?! Those weird occurrences had been Michael after all! She wasn’t paranoid. He’d been in her new apartment.
“I didn’t want to rush things,” Michael defended, his tone suddenly tighter. “We both know how that went last time.” He sighed. “But, I was the one who cleaned up the files in your kitchen, dusted your picture frames, and made your bed that day you forgot,” he grinned. “I also checked in on days I wanted to give you space but also wanted to check on you,” Michael added.
“That was you,” y/n murmured to herself as she thought back through all the crazy things that had happened.
“Of course that was me babe,” Michael scoffed. “Babe, I had to be sure you were taken care of”. He gritted his teeth as he glanced down at the gun beside him. “I’ll be honest, I’m not too fond of this… Tom, guy though, that you’ve brought into our lives,” he complained.
Y/n faltered. At this point, she didn’t know how to proceed. She didn’t know what Michael knew or perceived. “I- I-…” she stuttered nervously.
"I mean, really, babe?” Michael groaned as he shook his head. “Why be with Tom Holland?” “What does he have that I don't?” He asked with his arms crossed over his chest.
“He isn’t a stalkerish psycho,” y/n blurted. "So it’s more of what he doesn’t do that you do,” she said, her hand quickly covering her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Well, there went trying to keep Michael ‘on her side’.
Michael instantly gripped the gun with one hand and the edge of the table with the other. His face demonstrated his sudden but deep agitation. “You’re a hard one to please, dear,” he nearly hissed. “But, no worries, in time I’ll learn your intricacies.” Michael let go of the gun as he rose to pour y/n some wine.
Y/n watched in anger and fear as Michael got closer. She was beyond fed up of trying to run and hide from him. She was tired of him altogether. She just wanted her life back. “Wh-What do you want from me, Michael?”
Michael squinted at y/n in confusion. “To be with me,” he said simply.
Y/n swallowed as she scooted her chair back slightly. “I’ve told you-“ she reminded gently.
“I know,” Michael nodded. “You see me as a friend,” he acknowledged briefly. “But, friends often become more than friends. You just need to give me a chance”.
“I did,” y/n argued angrily. She’d given him a chance to still be her friend after the first incident. But things hadn’t gotten any better.
Michael squeezed the wine bottle tightly until it broke. He sighed as y/n gasped and leapt from her seat in a panic. But, he nonetheless calmly cleaned up the mess as if it wasn’t some angry outburst. “I meant a real chance, dear,” he corrected though his teeth. “We’ll have time for that soon enough though”.
Y/n utilized Michael looking at the broken shards of glass from the wine bottle to slip the serrated steak knife into her back pocket. “What do you mean?” She asked, partially out of fear and partially to keep him talking. She’d try to wait this out, but if things went wrong, at least she now had a defensive option/weapon.
“I know you enjoy working on set here,” Michael said with what was likely an attempt at a sympathetic frown. “But, our relationship needs to come first, not work”.
“Relationship?” Y/n questioned, stepping back further from the table; and from Michael.
Michael groaned loudly as he picked the gun back up. But, he kept it low and at his side. “I don’t appreciate the fake dumb act, dear,” he scolded. “You’re far too smart for that babe,” he said with a glare, as if in warning. But, Michael quickly snapped back to an overly welcoming expression. “Now, as I was saying,” he redirected happily, “you’ll be coming with me when I leave Berlin tomorrow”. He stepped to the side of the table to approach y/n. “I’ve got your room already set up,” Michael smiled.
Y/n took another step back as she kept her eyes on Michael. “M-my… room?” She questioned. “Leave?”. Y/n rapidly shook her head. “Michael, I’m sorry, but, I think you’re confused,” She tried to empathize.
“I’m not confused!” Michael shouted. His right hand smacked loudly against the table beside him. The dishes rang out in the otherwise quiet room as they tried to steady themselves. “Sorry, dear,” Michael murmured upon seeing y/n’s fear. “Now, as I was saying,” he sighed.
Y/n jumped as a sudden knock hit her door. Someone was here. Tom. It was likely Tom. She still hadn’t settled on whether or not she wanted him to be here for this. Nor if it was okay for her to want such a thing. But that didn’t matter, because Michael had already stomped over to the front door.
Y/n watched silently as Michael peered through the door hole. She noticed the way he gripped the handle of his gun tighter as he glared through the tiny circular window. She froze with wide eyes as he spun towards her suddenly.
“Why is he here?” Michael spat as he stormed towards y/n, waving his gun frantically.
“W-well…,” y/n mumbled quietly. “W-We had a date n-night pl-“ she tried to defend cautiously.
Michael pointed the gun at y/n’s forehead as he glared at her. “No, WE had a date night planned,” he hissed, moving his pointer finger to the trigger. “Get rid of him,” he commanded. Michael grabbed y/n’s bicep and tugged her towards the door.
Y/n nodded frantically. “Tom, I’m coming!” she dared to call out. At least this way Tom would know she was home. That way he wouldn’t just leave and she might even be able to secretly alert him to get her help. She yelped as Michael’s free hand suddenly clapped over her mouth.
Michael dug the barrel into the side of y/n’s head. He lowered the hand from her lips and nodded towards the front door. “Casually!” He whispered harshly. “Don’t act so fearful,” he said, his voice softening drastically, “it’s just me”. When y/n refused to move, he nudged her forward. “Now, go”.
“Don’t act fearful says when there’s a gun to your head,” y/n mumbled to herself as she moved away from Michael. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. She schooled her expression into what she hoped would meet Michael’s demands.
Tom looked up from the flowers and wine in his hand as he heard the creaking of y/n’s door. His heart dropped upon making eye contact with her. She was clearly not herself. “Love, what’s the matter?” He asked worriedly.
Y/n resisted a small smile at how attentive Tom was. She shook her head and gave him a sad frown. “I.. uhh…,” she mumbled, pausing when she felt the cold metallic of Michael’s gun move back to the side of her head. “I’m not f-feeling well,” she stated, avoiding eye contact with Tom.
“I can see that, darling,” Tom frowned. He discarded the wine and flowers on the ground beside y/n’s door. “What happened? Did you get another ca-” he began to ask.
Y/n cut Tom off before he could finish his question. She knew he was going to ask if Michael had called her again, and that was the last thing she needed right now. “I-.. I’m sick,” she lied weakly.
Tom squinted. “Does your head hurt?” He interrogated as he scanned y/n’s face.
“What?” Y/n croaked.
Tom pouted, his brows furrowed. “You’ve been crying,” he stated.
Y/n lifted a shaky hand to her face. She hadn’t realized she’d cried at some point between arriving home to Michael’s intrusion and now. But, as her fingers trailed over her cheeks, she realized Tom was right. “O-oh, just-just feeling crummy, is all,” she tried.
Tom didn’t want to pry if y/n needed a night alone. But something told him he shouldn’t leave. If she was truly that sick, he should stay to take care of her. “Why don’t I help?” He offered, taking her hands in his. “I have a strong immune system and can order us some soup-”.
Y/n rapidly shook her head, making Tom release her hands and take a respectful step back to give her space. God, she was already in love with him, wasn’t she?. “I.. it’s not that kind of sick,” she explained. After she noticed the confusion in Tom’s face, she added, “and I just want to sleep”. She felt guilty for the way Tom’s face dropped even more. “Raincheck?”
Tom was still internally questioning the circumstances. But, he wanted to respect y/n’s boundaries so he nodded slowly. “Of course, darling,” he agreed. Tom knew he had to push aside the worry that came with seeing y/n’s wild eyes and clammy skin; she’d all but asked him to leave multiple times now, he needed to do as she asked. “I.. I’ll see you on set tomorrow then, yeah?” He questioned still feeling something was off.
Y/n nodded reluctantly, not wanting to make a promise she wasn’t sure she would be around to keep.
Tom slowly stepped closer, watching for any signs that y/n didn’t want him to give her a goodnight kiss. When she didn’t show any rejection, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Goodnight darling,” Tom whispered, “feel better”.
“Th-thank you,” y/n replied with a small sad smile. Would that be their last kiss? She had to do something. “Goodnight, T-Thomas,” she croaked, making eye contact with him one last time before stepping back to close her door.
Michael dragged y/n away from her front door by her elbow. “What was that kiss?” He growled. Michael glared at y/n as she looked down and tried to stifle her crying. He sighed and pulled y/n into his arms. “I can’t stay mad at you,” he confessed, nuzzling his nose against the top of her head. Michael didn’t seem to notice the way y/n shook in his arms, crying more forcefully now. “Shhh,” he said, it coming off as a demand. When her cries softened in volume, he grinned and squeezed her against him, “that’s my girl”.
Y/n could no longer miss the fact that she was crying. At this point, her tears were actively streaming down both of her puffy cheeks. “Please!” she pleaded, trying to wedge her hands up between her and Michael’s chest to push him back.
Before Michael could react to y/n’s pleas, the front door swung open.
Tom had quietly waited outside after y/n shut the door; unable to ignore the worry he was feeling. His concerns had only amplified when y/n called him Thomas instead of Tom. She never did that. Something was wrong. He was just glad that he hadn’t heard the sound of y/n locking her door after closing it; suggesting it was still unlocked. As such, he readied himself and threw the door open.
Michael spun towards the door, allowing y/n to wiggle free from his grip. He glared at Tom as the man ran towards him with rage in his eyes. As Tom dove into his torso, Michael’s gun slipped from his hold. Meaning the two ended up in a brief hand-to-hand tussle.
After a successful knee strike against Michael, Tom rushed towards y/n. He prayed his grabbing her wouldn’t scare her, but he had to act quickly. Tom gently, but securely, grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him. He positioned himself between her and Michael. “I know it’s hard,” Tom whispered breathily. “But, I need you to trust me,” he explained as he shifted them so they continued to face Michael as the man stalked closer. “Everything is going to be alright,” Tom promised as he reached back and squeezed y/n’s hand. “Do as I, darling, I’ll get you out of here”.
“What do you think you’re doing, mate?” Tom asked Michael as he tried to plan a way to get y/n to safety. “Just leave her be”.
Michael glared at the couple as he stormed closer. “She’s mine,” he growled.
“She’s not property, mate,” Tom corrected with an eye roll. He held his palm out flatly behind his back to signal for y/n to stop; to stay where she was. Tom took several steps forward, towards Michael and away from y/n.
Michael closed the remaining distance between him and Tom, glaring the whole time. “Don’t talk about her,” he growled. Now that he was within striking distance, he raised his fist.
“Hide! Now!” Tom advised as he blocked Michael’s fist with his palm. As he watched y/n run out of the room and into the hallway, he counterattacked, trying to swipe Michael off his feet. It worked, but on the way down, the stalker tried to pull Tom with him. Thank God for the fight training he had to do for Spider-Man and Uncharted!
Tom and Michael wrestled for several minutes. Tom knew the creep was muttering something, but he didn’t bother to try to decipher it. All that mattered was trying to subdue him so y/n could get away. However, Tom’s plans halted when it appeared that Michael had somehow found the gun he’d dropped earlier, and now he had Tom at gunpoint.
Michael grinned wickedly at Tom as he stood up and signaled for Tom to remain kneeling. He used his free hand to wipe the blood from his busted lip. “Y/n, dear!” He called out as he moved behind Tom to hook his arm around his torso. When she didn’t come out of hiding, he groaned loudly and placed his finger on the trigger. “If you don’t come out babe, I’m going to shoot this idiot,” he threatened.
“Don-” Tom groaned as he wriggled in Michael’s hold. “Don’t!” He shouted, hoping y/n wouldn’t listen to the stalker’s demands.
“Shut the hell up!” Michael snapped, tightening his hold on Tom. He pulled Tom closer, making Tom’s back more flush against his torso and dug the barrel of his gun into Tom’s temple. “Y/n, if you care about your friend, you’ll-” he warned.
Y/n’s appearance in the living room cut Michael’s threat off. She stared with wide eyes as she stood before Tom and Michael. This was her mess; she got Tom into this. She needed to get him out of it. “I-I’ll go,” she said with a visible gag. “I’ll-”.
“No!” Tom shouted as he fought against Michael. He even brought his elbow backwards into the man’s torso. But, this only resulted in Michael digging the barrel further into his temple.
“Stop!” Y/n begged. She didn’t care that she’d given up any leverage she may have had. Tom needed to get out of here. No one else needed to suffer. “Just,” y/n cried, “just stop hurting him, hurting anyone, and…” She swallowed thickly, “and then… I’ll go”.
“Y/n!” Tom hissed as he stared at her with wide pleading eyes. “Don’t do this!”
“Willingly,” Michael added. When y/n didn’t seem to understand his statement, he stared at her expectantly.
Y/n nodded shakily. “Y-yes,” she whispered. “Wi-will….,” she paused. After she took a deep breath, y/n cleared her throat. “Willingly,” she lied, the words barely choked out before her tears started to fall. It was a lie, it wasn’t willingly. Nothing about this was willingly done. But she would willingly choose to protect Tom. Besides, she knew there was no way Michael was going to just let Tom live. She knew he saw him as a threat. He was just currently using him as leverage. So, y/n figured she might as well try to flip the situation on Michael.
Tom shook as he scratched at Michael’s arm that was wrapped across his front. “Y/n,” he pleaded, “no, don’t do this! Please!”
Y/n shot Tom a sympathetic look. She wanted to try to silently communicate that she wasn’t going as willingly as she stated, but she couldn’t risk Michael noticing. “I’m sorry,” she sighed.
Michael hummed cockily. “That’s my girl,” he declared with a grin. “I knew you’d choose me”. He slowly released Tom, keeping the gun on him while Tom snapped up and into a fighting stance. He kept an eye on Tom as he walked nearer to y/n, the gun pointed squarely at Tom the whole time. Yet, he noticed the way Tom nevertheless moved closer as if still willing to fight.
Michael waved y/n over to him smugly. When she was by his side, he lifted his free hand up to stroke her cheek, causing Tom to lung forward slightly. “Ah ah,” he scolded, “she said she was doing this willingly”. “I won’t have you violating her boundaries and wishes,” Michael stated ironically.
Y/n’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she heard Michael say to Tom “now you have to just watch as she kisses her actual crush”. She froze in disgust and panic. But, she quickly recovered as the expectant look on Michael’s face helped her realize she had to play along. She took a deep breath and summoned up any acting ability she may somehow secretly have.
Y/n begrudgingly neared Michael. She closed her eyes as she moved her lips until they were millimeters away from his. She set one hand on his shoulder; for both stabilization and distraction. The other hand she kept at her side, fingers slipping into her pockets.
Just as Michael seemed to become fed up with waiting and began to move his head closer, y/n swiped the serrated steak knife from dinner out of her pocket and slammed it into his arm that was holding the gun. She instinctively took a step back as blood spurted from the wound. However, she knew she didn’t have long; Michael was going to be livid.
Y/n pulled the knife out of Michael’s arm, trying not to dry heave at the sight and sensation of his muscles and tendons tearing against it as she did. She noticed the gun had lowered from being aimed at Tom and was not just hanging at his side. But, before she could grab it and hold him at by gunpoint until the police got there, she watched Michael try to lift the injured arm to point the gun at her as his other arm gripped her hip.
Y/n quickly plunged her weapon into Michael’s thigh and pulled downwards. She once again removed the knife from his leg as she stepped back. She noticed he’d dropped the gun in an attempt to grab at the sudden wound to his thigh. So, this time y/n tossed the bloody knife across the room so Michael couldn’t use it against her. Simultaneously, she scooped up the gun and moved backwards as she pointed it at him.
Y/n had never held a gun before, much less shot one. Prop guns on a movie set? Sure! But a real one, not until now. The weight of it and what it symbolized felt heavier than even the blood-soaked knife she’d stabbed Michael with. As such, she was too distracted by the chaos to notice Tom’s warning shout as Michael grabbed at her leg from the ground. Within seconds, her body slammed to the floor. She groaned loudly but otherwise kept her advantage, the gun only moving off of Michael for a split second.
Y/n kicked and scooted across the ground, her leg hurting too much for her to dare risking an attempt to stand up. She kept the barrel pointed at Michael as she slid further from him. She noticed Tom placing himself between her and Michael as they glared at each other across the floor.
Tom watched Michael closely as he tried to back up slowly until he could reach y/n. Only, he abruptly stopped and went to change directions and head towards her stalker as the man suddenly rose and began charging. Tom and Michael exchanged blows once again. His hand slipped in the blood on Michael’s arm as he tried to grab him, allowing Michael to escape his hold for a moment. But that was all it took for the man to charge towards y/n. Before Tom could even attempt to get ahold of him once again, a gunshot rang out.
Y/n had seen the look in Michael’s eyes as he fought with Tom. She was trying to figure out how to get him to stop. Did she shook him? Just threaten to do so? And if that didn’t work, then actually shoot him? She didn’t have a chance to figure it out when suddenly he was racing her way yet again. With slightly trembling fingers, y/n aimed the gun at Michael’s legs and pulled the trigger. She screamed as the shot rang out and Michael dropped to the ground.
Tom immediately sprinted over to y/n. He threw himself into the floor beside her. He cautiously set his hand over her shaking ones that were still holding the gun. Once she let go of it, he took it from her and moved it to his right hand. With his left hand, he pulled y/n to his side and tried to rub her back.
“I-,” y/n gasped. “I had to do it,” she defended quietly, her eyes still on Michael’s crumpled form.
“I know,” Tom reassured y/n. He held her body tighter to him as he felt her tears soak his shirt. The gun was still in his other hand, but pointed at Michael in case the man was stupid enough to try again. Tom wasn’t going to take any chances. Michael wasn’t coming anywhere near y/n ever again.
Y/n turned her gaze away from her stalker and buried her face in Tom’s side when he tapped her cheek to try to distract her. “I… I didn’t w-wa-want to shoot him,” she cried. Despite Tom’s supportive hold on her, she shook violently against him.
“I know, it’s okay,” Tom promised, resting his chin atop y/n’s head.
“No,” y/n gasped as she choked on a sob. “I-…. it’s not okay,” she argued. “I just shot someone!”
Tom frowned. “‘ey, ‘ey,” he whispered, his left hand gently lifting y/n’s damp chin up so she would look at him. “‘ey,” he repeated when she finally met his gaze. “He was charging at you.” “You did the right thing,” Tom informed her.
Y/n sniffled and hiccuped as she tried to compose herself. “You’re… You’re not afraid of me?” She asked, her voice cracking.
Tom shook his head. “No, love, ‘course not,” he promised quickly. “I’m proud of you for doing what you had to,” he admitted solemnly.
Once y/n was in less of a panicked state, Tom quickly scanned her body for any injuries. “How’s your leg?” He asked, glancing between her and Michael rapidly as to not take his eye off the threat for too long.
Y/n stretched the leg in question out before her. “Just sore, I think,” she answered as she felt out the extent of the injury from her fall.
Tom sighed in relief, quickly pulling y/n back to his side.
“Are you okay?” Y/n croaked out after a few moments of hesitant silence. She was afraid to ask the question. She hadn’t noticed any excessive injuries, but it had all happened so fast she couldn’t be sure.
Tom heard the deep worry in y/n’s tone and hummed. “I’m fine,” he promised, tenderly squeezing her hip for effect. “Much better now that you’re here, and he’s over there,” Tom pointed out as he nodded his head towards Michael.
Y/n whimpered in tired agreement. She nuzzled into Tom’s embrace, appreciating the protection and love she felt. “Th-thank-,” she began.
“Don’t you dare thank me,” Tom spoke softly. “It’s not needed,” he promised. He crooked his neck and placed a light kiss to y/n’s head. “We’re safe now”.
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Tom lifted the blanket up to keep y/n tucked in. She was resting curled up against him, his arms wrapped securely around her shrunken frame. They were seated on the couch at his apartment, under several oversized fuzzy blankets as y/n had been freezing; seemingly from her lingering anxiety after tonight’s events. By now they’d already talked to the police and completed any forms they’d been asked to do. They ventured to Tom’s apartment as y/n understandably didn’t want to be in her apartment any longer; plus, it was a crime scene still. But despite the change in environment and how tiring the situation had been, neither one could find sleep. So, they simply held each other as they snuggled on the couch.
Y/n hesitantly broke the silence. The fact that they didn’t feel the need to talk about it right away was a relief. But, there was one question that was bugging her. “Tom?” She asked quietly.
Tom pressed his back against the couch cushions so he could see y/n better. “Yes, darling?” He replied, a small but sympathetic smile on his face as he sensed her reluctance to speak.
“How… I’m glad you did,” y/n said vaguely. “But…,” she nervously bit her bottom lip. “How did… how did you know something was wrong?” She wondered.
“You called me Thomas,” Tom answered easily.
“Wh-what?” Y/n questioned.
Tom smiled and cupped y/n’s cheek with his right hand, the other staying protectively placed on her hip. “Darling, you never call me Thomas, only Tom,” he pointed out.
Y/n bit her bottom lip. It worked. “I… I didn’t know how else to signal it,” she admitted. “But… I… well, I wasn’t sure it would work, that you’d notice the slight difference”.
Tom squeezed y/n’s cheek lovingly. “I notice everything when it comes to you,” he said. “Especially if it has to do with your safety or wellbeing,” he added with a faint smile.
Y/n smiled back softly. “I’m glad,” she confessed. “On the bright side,” she murmured, turning to rest the back of her head against Tom’s chest. “At least now I know how to alert you if someone’s wrong, or if he-“.
“He’s never going to hurt you again,” Tom vowed. He tightened his grip on y/n protectively. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure you never have to worry about him again, trust me”.
“I do,” y/n commented warmly as she squeezed Tom’s hands that were locked around her waist. “I trust you, Tom,” she promised.
——————
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