#c: i set my mind to wandering and i walk a broken line

[thewingedwolf]

Part Three of my “Milah Should Have Been Hook” rewrite

Part One here, part two here, in case u like care but i think there’s literally two other people that do so

Idk how I would even begin to fix Hook's story after Cora dies.

I mean at the very least, I set it up where she's going to know that Rumples is still alive, so u guess right off the bat she isn't as fucking useless.

I guess if I were a depressed pirate lady who is on a mission to murder my ex husband, get my son to love me, and figure out how the fuck I brought my lover partially back to life, the first thing I'd do after my plan gets fucked up and my biggest ally gets murdered.....I'd probably go get my other allies?

So that means, in my story, breaking Ariel out of jail and finding Smee (bc Smee is loyal and on her crew bc absolute bullshit we don't get any smee/hook interactions beyond like two scenes). If she's successful at it, that means she actually manages to accomplish finding herself new allies unlike hook in the show who gets jumped by two ordinary humans who have like minimal fighting skills and convinced into fighting on their side (like...........it's not just Hook who I have this problem with, it's that every single god damn villain on this show is a freaking weenie baby except Cora and sort of Ingrid and I would like for all of them to show a little more competence. Like. Just a little, miniscule amount).

ANYWAYS ok I guess Milah would probably use August as a cover, get people focusing on him so she can break into the Sheriff's station and get Ariel back, then sends Killian to look for Smee (idk what August is doing at this point bc obviously I'm revamping a lot of his story bc it was racist and a fucking cop out but I'm not sure exactly of details so. Idk he's distracting in *some* sort of way). They take out the guards Emma posted and move the Jolly Roger someplace harder to find. This gets us to Lacey and honestly - Milah is probably gonna thrive here? Rumples is not doing himself any fucking favors and acting just the way she's been saying he is - violent, rotten, and cowardly. And he's already skating on thin ice here with Neal so a whisper here and there from mama is gonna go a long way. Now, I think she's gonna overestimate Neal's patience, in the same way Rumples overestimated it in these episodes as well. He's not looking for them to slowly get better, he's looking for them to already *be* better. Milah threw showing she's changed out the window when she tried to kill Rumples, and now Rumples throws it out the window with Lacey. So I'd have the episode end where he throws it in both their faces (separately tho, they're not ready to go toe to toe again) and then tells them to fuck off.

Milah teams up with Tamara and Greg but she goes to them herself because she figures out they’re Up to Something. She figured out they’re trying to travel and she hints at where but doesn’t outright tell the audience, only says that if anyone could help her with Killian, it’s “him.” and she’ll help (there’s no torturing Regina because that was unnecessary. They do capture her but she’s left mostly unharmed).

Tamara knows about the magic and Neal is fully aware she’s been researching how to get back to her brothers so he thinks nothing of her sneaking around. Emma is suspicious because of her own Unresolved Issues Surrounding Family and Henry is just sorta along for the ride because why not - he likes Tamara though. A lot. She makes him sad sometimes because he’s a smart kid and he can see very clearly that she used to be optimistic like him and believed in love like him and all of that has faded away with the abuse from Pan and the loss of her brothers and living on the streets with Neal.

By the two-parter, all our villains are left in precarious positions and all are tied to one thing - Henry. Tamara has grown fond of him against her own better judgment, and Regina loves him, and Rumples fears him. The only link left is MIlah, but this one is obvious and comes into play after Neal falls through the portal.

Which - Greg shoots him, not Tamara. He’s pleading and begging, telling her this isn’t the way, using dark magic to fight dark magic won’t help and we see her wavering until Greg takes the shot and throws the bean and drags a distraught Tamara along with him. The finale plays out basically the same but I think in general it feels tenser and makes the hell face turns more dramatic. Regina's is admittedly already v good in the finale so not much to fix there besides pacing earlier on, Milah, Neal’s *actual parent* getting to say that line "the things we do for our children" and then finally abandoning her vengeance to save her grandson, and Rumples putting aside his issues with Milah (he doesn't say that one like about wanting to kill Hook, altho he probably does spend a solid 10 minutes giving her the stink eye) and his fear of powerlessness to save Henry.

They get aboard the ship and then BAM - THEY’RE IN CAMELOT! END SEASON 2

#rani's great ouat rewrite #rani attempts to be creative #milah jones #greg mendell #c: i set my mind to wandering and i walk a broken line #c: i sure as hell ain't lost #killian jones #rumples #i say fear of powerlessness bc i think thats the root of his issue #he spent a lot of time feeling powerless - couldnt stop his father from leaving couldnt get milah to stay couldnt protect baelfire #hes terrified of being put in a position where he cant protect himself or the people he loves #and i would want to properly deal with that trauma instead of just yelling that hes a coward every five minutes #thats not how a proper character arc works guys #HE'S NOT OWEN WE GET A REVEAL NEXT PART OK i think the owen thing did nothing but woobify regina and it was bad and i hated it #so he's gonna be something else still tied to regina but something else #hey when i become a famous author and i have a character with an arc like milah do u think abc will sue me for it since i posted this or nah

[thehomothings]

Analysis of Kite's conflicting moralities, relationship with death, and the toll reincarnation may take on one's psyche

So, today I decided to compile all the thoughts I have had about Kite's interesting worldview since the first time I saw him into one post, mostly for my own sake, really. If you're familiar with the few posts I've made, you know it's gonna be a mess, but hopefully a comprehensible mess.

A heads up, this is going to be spoiler-heavy, and very much deal with subjects of death and dying as a whole. Also, some of these conclusions are drawn from my own experiences and close brushes with death, I'm not going to go into much detail but it might get personal and definitely dark. I'm not even sure if I can call this a meta-analysis, and I'm obviously no expert, so mayhaps take all of this with a grain of salt.

Been getting into drawing lately, and during the more simple and mindless part of the painstaking process of dotting every single star in this, I let my thoughts wander through the latest part of the fic I'm writing, and I got a better grasp on what exactly made Kite such an elusive character to me.

I'm not quite sure why I got so attached to Kite. Perhaps it was the air of tragedy surrounding him, how despite his sordid past he remained still open and gentle even if outlined by a healthy dose of cynicism.

But sometimes, I think it's the fact that he is so paradoxical. He's brave, yet fears death to such a degree that creates a whole Nen ability around it, is a pacifist yet will not hesitate to spill blood for his own sake or someone else's. Despite the many ultimatums and warnings of 'I will not protect you', he gave his arm and then his life to save Gon and Killua. He approaches each hunt and battle with a clear plan of action in mind, but his Hatsu takes the form of a roulette that gives him random weapons which are never what he wants, but what he seems to need for that exact situation, which he cannot dispel without using. When he draws a weapon, the decision is locked in and his or his opponent's fate is sealed. That's why each time he dubbs his weapon a bad roll. Every time he has to gamble, he sees himself as having run out of luck. When it comes to having to choose between himself and somebody else...well, there had never been a choice. In fact his aversion to using it may feed into its sheer power that we, unfortunately, saw too little of.

Let's go over his very first appearance when he saves Gon from the mother Foxbear.

It's not hard to see the strain searching for Ging has put on him; he's rash, prone to anger and punching a child for daring to get into trouble. In his mind, he's failing at his most important task, has not yet earned the right to call himself a hunter despite being in possession of his very own hunter license.

After killing the mother Foxbear and raging about having done so, he says this interesting line:

So yes, he finds killing for any reason rather irksome as most would do, yet I think something deeper caused him to absolutely lose it in this scene:

He had not been aware of Gon's identity, and despite being an animal lover and a naturalist, he made a choice to save the human instead of allowing nature to run its course. In fact, he says: 'No beast that harms a human must be allowed to live.'

How does one weight one life against another? How is the worth of it determined? The value of life... an impossible choice he's faced with and a choice which he seems to regret to some degree.

The Foxbear cub.

Here, he's speaking from experience, a tangible loss he has felt himself, and a hard and bitter life he does not want to impose on the cub.

His backstory is exclusive to the 2011 anime adaptation but there are hints alluding to it in the manga, for example, the fact that he does not seem to know his birthplace, or:

The choice of words is chilling.

Reading between the lines, one could draw the conclusion that he is an orphan. Something supporting this hypothesis is how he visibly deflates after Gon tells him his parents have (presumably) died.

So we see he is willing to go against his own moral code of not killing as to not doom another living being to the life he led, a lonely, hopeless existence that could barely be called one. He saw it best to put down the cub rather than leave it to die a painful, slow death.

The reason Kite himself isn't as cynical and cold-hearted as one would be after witnessing cruelty in its rawest form is those small crumbs of human kindness which he may have found in Ging.

It was not only a chance at an honorable life being Ging's apprentice gave him, but it also 'saved' him from being broken and twisted into what he hated and worst of all, death.

If we take that one minute of backstory as canon to his character-which I find myself inclined to do- these quirks of his make much more sense. He lived on the run. He lived on the knife's edge between giving up or pushing forwards. He lived as so a wrong move could be the difference between survival and the end.

Between rock and a hard place creates a mentality of black and white, absolute good or extreme evil, this or that. Except in reality, it's much harder than that. Deciding who to save and who to strike down is a heavy burden to bear.

It's almost easy to see how struggling to keep surviving could lend itself to a crippling fear of death and subsequently developing a Nen ability which once more goes against his own moral code in order to give himself a second chance...yet something about it strikes me as unlikely when I look at it this way.

Living life knowing it could end at any moment has the opposite effect, at least for me it did. One comes to accept that it is fleeting and while not eager to let it go, when death eventually and inevitably does come, there is no fighting it.

Especially when there is no hope that tomorrow will be a better day than this one.

Frequent near-death experiences numb one's fear in a way, even if it drives them to take precautions that render it unlikely to happen again and results in c-PTSD, but still, it does. It sparks a certain nihilistic view of 'if it all can end so easily, then what's the point of it all?'

Unless there are things to live for, a sure promise of a better future, and Ging gave Kite that. When he faced the threat of losing his second chance at life:

Really, what else could lead someone to develop the ability of 'the hell I'm going to die like this'?

I think a separate event, an even more brutal near-death experience that almost cost him his life as the hunter he so strived to be set him off to develop the secret roll of Crazy Slots, what I call Roll No.0, Ars moriendi. Unlike other weapons, it cannot come up in random and is directly summoned by him, or better said, summon by his overwhelming will to keep going and hopelessness of fighting a losing battle. I don't believe roll No.3 was the weapon that allowed him to reincarnate. I've named that one Wand of Fortune, a sort of armor instead of an offensive weapon since I find it hard to believe Kite, a Conjurer, would not focus on defences as well, and I will go into both mechanisms of these weapons hopefully in his backstory.

Despite knowing this battle to be a pointless one and being acutely aware of his soon to be demise, he did not immediately draw Ars moriendi, no, he stayed back and fought for the sake of the boys, kept Neferpitou occupied until they could reach safety. We can see evidence of this in the aftermath of the battle that seemed to have gone on until dawn, a torn apart landscape only signaling a fraction of the devastation that was Kite's power unleashed. It still wasn't enough.

In the anime sub I watched, when Gon apologizes to Ging about Kite's death, Ging said a sentence that infuriated me, because it belittled the utter suffering of the NGL trio.

"He would not die in your place." (No screenshot, sorry)

And I remember practically shouting at the screen, screaming 'how could you possibly say that? Of course he did. He absolutely did die in their place. How could you not know your own apprentice? Why-'

It was only last night that it hit me why Ging would say that.

Once upon a time, maybe Kite would not have given his life for anybody under any circumstances, even if he had a way out of it all. He would still need to die to come back to life.

His Thanatophobia could be attributed to the (possibly untreated) PTSD of the near-death experience in his later life, being so certain of dying that finding himself alive afterwards drove him to never want to go through that again. He quieted his fear by creating a sort of a loophole, that even if he lost the battle he would remain. Ging remembered that, but as evidence shows, something changed. Maybe he healed a bit, perhaps growing up dulled his fear to a certain degree, but eventually when it came down to his life or another's, he didn't choose himself.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but he didn't die, so what are you going on about??' And so I reply: Yes, he is alive, but he did die. He experienced that painful, horrible moment of staring death in the eyes and thinking 'This is it, this is the end', went through the actual process of having his soul removed from his body. And that moment stretches into infinity, ten lifetimes condensed into the mere seconds before oblivion.

Dying isn't so hard if one stays dead.

It's not so easy to open one's eyes and find oneself alive again after that, no matter how much that is the heart's desire. It's difficult, nigh-impossible to reconcile with life and walk amongst the living when everything had been so final, when death had been accepted to its fullest.

So Kite awakens, the twin of Meruem and back from the dead, his mind and identity both intact and fractured. In that he is Kite is no mistaking, yet he is not the same gentle pacifist whose first reaction upon sensing a monster's aura was to shield two kids from it at the cost of his arm.

I don't think many of you are familiar with Zoroastrian ideology, but Togashi is known for loving his religious imagery, and it's not only Christianism he derives inspiration from (evidence of which can be seen all over Kite's character and resurrection).

In Zurvanism-a branch of Zoroastrianism- there is talk of the twin spirits: Ahura Mazda -epitome of all that is good- and Ahriman -epitome of all that is evil-, the parent god Zurvin decides that the firstborn may rule in order to bring "heaven, hell, and everything in between."

Upon becoming aware of this fact, Ahriman forcibly tears through the womb to emerge first. Sounding familiar yet?

Zurvan relents to this turn of events only on one condition: Ahriman is given kingship for 9000 years, and then Ahura Mazda may rule for eternity.

Meruem ruled for 40 days, his death leaving the throne vacant for ant Kite, wearing a dead girl's face and seeming to be brewing some nefarious plan. No more is there any sign of that unrelenting pacifism and the sanctity of life he held so high, losing his own may have only served to show him how meaningless the pain and suffering he went through had been, dying only to be reborn as a member of the species that killed him. It may be that he has no desire to rule over the remaining Chimera ants or create an army of his own-

Yet I dread to think what a broken mind possessing limitless power might do to the world.

And that's it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found it interesting, stay tuned, as I think a lot and I will make it your problem.

#Cw: talks of death and PTSD #When I say I unknowingly projected onto him #I can't tell if writing this was cathartic or torturous #and I gave myself heart palpitations so this is enough for today #And yes I refer to ant Kite by he/him pronouns because misgendering him on the account of his body being afab is just ignorant #even if I think skrunkly's genderqueer af and actually wouldn't mind she/her #still i wanna push the trans ant kite agenda #So yes this is how I unknowingly picked up Kite as a coping mechanism even if out attitudes towards death are practically opposites #don't mind your grandpa trauma dumping #What I'm saying is get ant Kite therapy before he sinks the world #I love reimagining Kite as a villain and I don't know why #Kite hxh #hxh kite #kite hunter x hunter #kaito hxh #hxh #hunter x hunter #meta analysis #theories #fic rambles #Icarus waffles #Kitkat #gon freccs #Ging freecss

[primalsouls]

checkup

albedo x m! reader

⚠️ : none but let me know!

theme: general

note: albedo albedo albedo albedo. i just love albedo and want to write something more general because usually the fics i read tend to be too fluff or too angst and sometimes other fics tend to feel like a super slow. like, im not trying to read an eassy. 💀 jkjk lol anyway, enjoy, hope you like it! and thank you for reading! let me know what you think. :)

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dragonspine was never in their bucket list of places to visit. It was deadly cold. Monsters roamed around. Even the Fatui were presented. [Y/N] was surprised how he managed to reached the campus set out by the Chief Alchemist further up the mountain. One would think he would camp out with the group based at the bottom of the mountain. He was a skilled swordman and his vision kept him warm throughout the difficult journey as best as it could. He did broke a sweat when fighting a few monsters but all that was important was his destination. Thus meeting Albedo, the genius Kreideprinz. [Y/N] was new to the Knight of Favonius, started back a few weeks ago. Today he was ordered by the Acting Grand Master to assist the Captain of the Investigation Team in one of his experiments. Or alternatively, Jean worried about the alchemist not taking care of himself and potentially risking failed experiments turn to unwanted results in Dragonspine and Mondstadt.

It was his order to check on the man. But, by the Archons, does he had to camp this far up. [Y/N] groaned when he reached a broken bridge. How was he going to get to the other side? Ah, right. Gliding. With a good running start, he could jump just high enough and glide his way to the other half of the fallen bridge with no added injuries. A flawless plan.

Not.

A scream left his lips when he jumped as best as he could after his run. No wonder he did terrible at mathematics. His calculations were off. And now, he was going to pump down to his end. Just to check on some big-time, smart guy. [Y/N] should had decline. But he wanted to prove himself. For what now? Prove he can see the light firsthand? What a joke. He reached out, his hand inches away from the other broken part of the bridge. He was so focus on reaching something to grab on he didn't hear his own scream leave his mouth nor the abrupted tug on his hand held by another. He came to his senses when he smacked against the wall under the brigde harshly, letting out a groan. [Y/N] looked up. [E/C] eyes met bright teal eyes. Such beautiful eyes. It felt like he was staring into emerald instead. They outshined the blues around Dragonspine. Like sun if the clouds ever go away.

"Are you only going to keep staring or help me pull you up?" He heard, the soothe voice snapping [Y/N] out of their thoughts. A blush bloomed on his face as he cleared his throat, using his other hand to keep himself firm in their hold.

"S-Sorry..." [Y/N] mumbled as he was pulled up. Solid, cold ground was what he felt right away. He looked over his shoulder, grimacing at the sight of the long fall he could had experienced first and last. Cursing the fall away, the knight turned back to his savior, about to thank them until he stopped himself. Upon closer look, his savior was... handsome. Their ashy light blonde hair reached below their shoulders, pulled back in a braided ponytail. It lookes adorable. Soft, even. It makes him want to run his fingers through it. Realizing he was staring again, [Y/N] cleared his throat as he shook his head, his blush increasing in color. Eyes darted to stare at the ground instead. "Uh, thank yo-you... Thank you for saving me back there." The knight said with a small smile, looking back his savior only to see them walk away already. "What?" [Y/N] sat there forzen, not believing what happened. He chuckled weakly, now pissed for the rude manner. "Hey, wait up!" He stood up from the ground, dusting himself off from any snow as he ran up to catch up to the mystery person. "You know, it's really rude to jusf walk away like that!" [Y/N] complained, slowing down as he came up to a campsite. His eyes widen a bit. There were bookshelves lined up again the walls of the cavern. Tables filled with written pages and materials. A small set of art supplies in one area and an crafting table by his side. Did his savior lived here? Wait, was this...?

"Are you the Captain of the Investigation Team, Albedo?" The knight said, walking up to the alchemist who simply nodded with no reply. He was focused on his work, [Y/N] could see that. "Oh okay..." He muttered underneath his breath, raising a brow. Well, here he was. The alchemist looked alright. There was no sight of any failed experiments. Mondstadt was good to stay for another day. But [Y/N] wasn't leaving yet. "My name is [F/N]. I was ordered by the Acting Grand Master to check on you... Which is why I'm here..." Albedo only gave a faint hum. What a conversationalist. "Okaaay..." The young man looked around. He couldn't just leave after what he just experienced. He was still shaky.

"Where are you from?" [Y/N] asked, attempting to make a conversation.

"Here and there." Albedo replied bluntly.

"What do you do?"

"This and that."

"You ever-"

"Now and then."

"Gosh, you're just full of information." [Y/N] grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And you're just full of interruptions." Albedo fired back, finally looking away from his work and turned to the knight. His expression was stoic but his beautiful emerald eyes held a hint of annoyance. His comment made the other man pouted and rolled his eyes. "You done your quest. Now, you may leave."

"What the-? Huh?" He couldn't believe it. He was being kicked out? Reasonable, actually. But still. What a rude alchemist. "Okay, look, I have to actually make sure you're okay and Jean said to stay for a few days before I return, anyway." [Y/N] explained. Albedo sighed softly, disinterested from the interaction. The knight clicked his tongue. "So, no, I'm not leaving." The knight huffed, head held high. Albedo hummed again, already looking back at his work. "Oh my- really?" [Y/N] shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He kept studying the area they were in, trying to locate any sort of self-care going on. There was a cook pot but the burned woods look as if it had went out hours ago. "How long had you been working?"

Albedo shrugged, papers being moved around in his area. [Y/N] sighed. He went to stand beside the table, inches away from him to not disturb his work. With the closeup, [Y/N] saw fainted dark circles under his eyes. He looked a little pale, too.

"Have you eaten at all? Rest?" He asked softly, a frown on his face. His gloved hands rest on his waist. [Y/N] looked like a parent scolding their child. Albedo shrugged again. The knight groaned, head tilted back. The lack of responses were starting to pissed him off. "I'll make you something." He grumbled, looking into his traveling bag as he walked over to the pot. Using his Pryo vision, he watched the flames come to alive once more. He pulled out pre-packaged ingredients he made himself before he set off.

Albedo's concentration was fully on his project but the smell of a delicious meal wandered around his nose. It pulled him out of his priority. The scent made his stomach growled. The Geo user stopped what he was doing and turned around. His eyes spotted the knight crouched down beside the pot, stirring around the contents it cooked. The flames illuminated the small cave, the knight's face glowed from it. Hair swayed back, half-lidded eyes stared boredly at the pot. Soft lips pressed into a thin line. It was a pretty sight. A perfect picture. A gorgeous paint on a canvas. His canvas. The scenery needed to be painted in his canvas.

[Y/N] heard movements behind him but he didn't bother to look up. He figured the alchemist was still all over his experiments. Behind his back, Albedo set up his easel, an 18x24 canvas rest nicely on it. His paints, brushes, and palette laid beside him on a stool with a cup of water on it as well. He began to sketch out the sight, a concentrated frown on his face.

"Hmm... I think it's done." [Y/N] muttered to himself, smiling a bit at the cooked stew he made. He was about to get up but a shout stopped him.

"Don't move! I'm not done yet." He heard the alchemist. The Pyro user blinked, confusion written over his face. "Not done..." Albedo continued, his hand moving a brush around. [Y/N] swallowed, wondering what he was doing.

"Why can't I move?" He asked, still in the position.

"Because I'm not finish."

"Finish with what?"

"The painting... It's not finished..." Albedo trailed off, focusing more on the canvas. [Y/N] was dumbfounded. Ah, right. The alchemist had a set of art supplies. But why could he be painting? Was he painting him? He was just sitting around the cook pot, nothing else. What did he capture in his mind to had the urge to paint? So much questions ran through his head and his face rest back to how it was when the knight stared at the pot. Just what Albedo needed to complete his new piece.

Half an hour passed and the flames were small. the pot was sat beside it. No need to have burnt food. [Y/N]'s legs were starting to cramp.

"Are you do-"

"Done." Albedo finished for him, stepping back from his canvas. [Y/N] sighed in relief as he stood up and stretched his limps out, hearing a few joints popped. Surely didn't sounded good but felt good. He walked over to Albedo.

"Can I see, please?" He asked, tilting his head. Albedo stared at the canvas before shifting his eyes over to the knight. He suddenly felt flustered. What a foreign feeling. It was he was embarrassed. He was not embarrassed. His face felt warmed. Was he blushing? What was going on? [Y/N] waited for an answer, raising a brow as he sent a charming smile his way. Why did such a gesture made his chest tightened but in a good way? Like something fluttered inside him. Was his heart beat increasing? Impossible. Feelings were unfamiliar to him. So, why was he experiencing them right now? "Albedo..." His name rolled out of his mouth. It sounded perfect. Did he just noticed it?

"It's not finished..." Albedo replied quickly, throwing [Y/N] off guard.

"But you said-"

"It's not finished." Albedo repeated, clearing his throat. The knight nodded slowly.

"Okaay..." [Y/N] mumbled, looking back at the pot. "Ah, well, dinner is ready. C'mon, let's eat." He said, walking back at the pot to begin serving the meal for both. Albedo watched him, lips parted slightly. His teal eyes moved back to the canvas. Finished. It was finished. He just... didn't want to show the knight but why? It was beautifully painted. A pretty piece. The look he captured from the knight painted there. Admirable.

"Are you coming or what?" [Y/N] called out, already setting the other table for them to eat at. Albedo blinked and nodded a second later. He placed his brush and palette down, taking his gloves off as he made his way over. There they sat. In complete silence. It wasn't awkward, fortunately. It was comfortable atmosphere. No need to exchange words. Albedo seem to like that. Perhaps Jean did a good thing to sent someone out. It felt nice to have company over for once.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #x reader #x male reader #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x male reader #primal writes

[perriewinklenerdie]

Steam (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,3 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 8 rewrite. Claire finds a way for Ethan to let out his frustrations and get some control back.

Warnings: NSWF, strong language, adult situations. By reading this you consent that you’re 18+

A/N: My relationship with the canon scene is complicated and I knew I’d rewrite it. Here are C and E at their finest, all about that teasing business.

Ethan stared at her with a complicated glint in his eyes. He barely heard a sound of his surroundings, blood rushing through his ears loudly. His one anchor, his one thing that kept him from drowning was Claire.

Her eyes were wide – they’ve been that way since the moment he told her that he was in a dark mood. Something shifted in the air between them; got heavier and more intense. She nodded slowly, an idea forming in her head.

“I think I know how you can let all the steam out of your system.”

Looping her arm through his, she pulled him with her away from the exit. He followed, albeit reluctant. Soon enough, they walked into the gym, empty due to the late hours of evening. Ethan went inside first, Claire trailing behind him, closing the door.

She turned the lock into place. Her white coat met the floor seconds later, exposing her tightly fitted shirt and a pencil skirt. Slowly, without a single care in the world, she moved towards the windows, closing the curtains, one by one.

“Strip”

“What?”

Closing the last curtain, she turned towards him with an enticing smirk. “Strip, Dr. Ramsey. You’ll damage your clothes if you exercise in them.”

He wanted to say something, but instead decided that it was futile to argue - she definitely had too much power over him - so with a huff, he began to lose clothes. Just as his pants hit the floor, he raised his gaze to her, eyebrow raised in question. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’ll be stripping too.” She dimmed the lights, creating an enthralling atmosphere in the room. “But the rate at which that will be happening is entirely up to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ethan asked, feeling his blood rushing faster through his body, already expecting what she had in mind.

“For each issue you work through, I’ll be losing one clothing item. Of your choice. How undressed I’ll get is in your hands.”

“And what happens after that?” He growled, ogling her through her clothes. Claire walked over to him, dropping her voice to a deep whisper.

„Whatever you want.”

Ethan nodded slowly, hesitation leaving his body. She gave him the gloves, watching him closely as he put them on, pulling on the straps with his teeth. His stormy gaze seemed to eat her alive, want evident in his every move.

He approached the punching bag hesitantly. The first hit was probing. It couldn’t have been his first time boxing, but something about this particular session felt different – most likely due to the emotional charge of it and the fact that Claire watched him very closely. He could feel her eyes on the skin of his chest, and he enjoyed that very much.

Letting go of his hesitation, he focused on his frustrations and it did the trick. The bag began swinging from the chain it was hanging on, loud sounds of protest created by each hit filling the room.

“What are you thinking about?” Claire asked, wanting him to externalize his struggles in hopes of helping him get through them.

“Bloom.” He barked, seemingly invigorated, hitting the bag faster. “His rules.” Hit. “His meddling.” Hit. “Him going back on everything he said.” Hit.

Ethan grabbed the bag, breathing heavily. His eyes strayed towards Claire, locking on her legs.

“Lose your shirt.”

She smirked, then slowly, button by button, took off the article of clothing, letting it fall to the floor with an innocent sigh.

Satisfied with the view before him and encouraged by it, more than he’d care to admit, he turned towards the bag again. Squaring his shoulders and digging his feet into the ground, he began punching again.

“Tobias.” This time, there was no experimenting with the strength of the blow. He began hitting the bag with fervor.

“His stubbornness.”

Hit.

“His smugness.”

Hit.

“This stupid competition between us.”

Hit. Hit. Hit.

Frustration rolled off him in waves, every strike sending the bag higher and higher. He went on until he couldn’t anymore, then steadied the bag again with a firm grip.

Claire’s eyes followed his every move, staring at the way his muscles worked. Her breathing quickened, chest moving up and down in no particular pattern. Having lost her shirt earlier on, there was nothing constricting Ethan’s view of her chest – the gentle rise and fall of it, gathered and held by the burgundy piece of lace that he longed to peel away with his teeth.

“Skirt” he grumbled, catching her gaze with his darkened eyes. His voice dripped of lust, face red from boxing and from all the ideas his mind was coming up with.

She reached behind her slowly, dragging the zipper down. Her heels clocked against the floor as she took a slight step forward. Dragging the fabric along her legs, she leaned down. Giving him a glorious view of her ass.

Taking her sweet time, she stood back up, smiling at him innocently. “See something you like?”

“I see something I want.”

“Keep punching, then. I still have some fabric to take off.”

He smirked, walking over to her. His voice dropped to a low rumble while his nose followed the line of her bra strap. “Or I could just take you like this.”

“Yeah?” She panted, biting her lip softly. Her hand wandered to his boxers, fingers dipping beneath the fabric so her nails could scrape against the skin of his hip. With a cheeky grin, she snapped the band of his underwear sharply. “Get back to boxing, Ramsey.”

Shaking his head after staring at her for a moment longer, Ethan walked back to the bag. She asked if he wanted to get something else out of his head and he didn’t even hesitate. His shoulders tensed and soon after, the room was once again filled with the sounds of angry punches, gloves hitting the bag, over and over again. Unlike before, he didn’t say out loud what got him so angry – not at first, at least.

“I should have found another way. We wouldn’t be in this mess.” He hit the bag so hard that the chain almost broke. “You wouldn’t be in this mess. It never even crossed my mind that the fault would fall anywhere near you.”

“You set the record straight – that matters the most.” She smiled at him reassuringly. Ethan steadied the bag one final time, taking a deep breath before he turned towards her.

“Panties.” He growled, rushing to get the gloves off, tossing them aside as he strode towards her in a hurry. As soon as she was within his reach, he grabbed the flimsy lace of her panties and pulled, the ripping sound filling the room.

“Ethan!” she scolded him, unable to fight laughter. He smirked.

“I never said I was a patient man.”

His hands grabbed her by the hips, using them as leverage to push her against the wall. With eagerness she’s come to expect from him, he stole a kiss from her, fitting his lips to hers. She grinned, looping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. With the tips of her fingers, she played with the hair at the back of his head.

The kiss was short-lived, as his lips left hers to wander down her neck. Foregoing their inhibitions, he bit and sucked on her skin, hard enough to leave a mark in a place that was visible enough to raise questions. Neither cared, however, because they were lost in each other, almost as though they were under some spell.

Moving further, he reached the valley between her breasts. With the tip of his tongue, he followed that invisible line, straying towards the curve of each breast, tasting her skin as though it was an aphrodisiac.

Ethan’s palms trailed up her sides until he reached her bra. The lace, as delicate as it was, felt coarse against the skin of his chest. He pressed his hands to the sides of her chest, gathering her breasts together. With his thumbs, he traced circles over her nipples, eliciting a breathless moan from her. She gripped his hair tighter, pressing his head closer.

His mouth closed over one of her nipples, licking and biting through the material. With his free hand, he dragged the straps off her shoulders, then reached towards her back and unhooked the clasp of her bra, flinging the garment far away from them.

Like a starved man, he dove forward, tracing non-sensical patterns over the skin of her chest with the tip of his tongue. His low hum sent vibrations through her.

“Ethan, please…” Claire sighed, her back arching off the wall when his teeth grazed her nipple.

“What do you want, Claire?” he asked, burying his face in her chest, taking a deep breath. She scratched his scalp before pulling his head away from her body, allowing her to place of ghost of a kiss upon his lips.

“I want you to take me against the wall.” She muttered, words slightly incoherent.

“How?” he asked, squeezing her breast with one hand while his other slid down her body, towards the apex of her thighs. His fingers dipped between her legs, running through her folds and then diving into her. “Should I squeeze your nipples and make you take my fingers until you can’t catch your breath?”

“Yes.” She whined, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the wall.

“Or maybe I should pin your hands above your head and wrap your leg around my hip.” He muttered, curling his fingers inside of her as he moved them in and out. Claire’s broken sigh was like music to his ears. “Bury my cock inside of you until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

“Please.”

Claire moved her hands to his hips, pushing his boxers down and out of the way. He kicked the fabric away, catching her hands by her wrists and raising them above her head, pinning her to the wall.

Meanwhile, Claire lifted her leg and wrapped it around him, pushing on his ass with her heel to press him closer. Ethan smirked at her eagerness, guiding himself to her entrance. Slowly, he slid inside, stopping once he was buried entirely. Their noses were touching, eyes locked in an intense stare. Mouths opened at the mind-boggling sensation, both breathing heavily.

Ethan palmed her thigh, stroking the skin gently. Neither moved nor made a sound, testing each other’s patience, seeing who would break first. She squeezed her inner muscles, smug at the way his façade broke.

“You ready?”

“Take me.” she flashed him a grin, moving her hips off the wall to further prove her point.

He wasted no time, his hold on her thigh tightening to grand himself something to hold onto as he retreated and then drove into her again. His hips snapped against hers, meeting her halfway, push for push, thrust for thrust. Her moans, at first subtle, were gaining volume, expressing the urgency she felt. Watching him work out aroused her more than she anticipated it would. Not having him right this moment would drive her mad.

Ethan adjusted his grip on her hands, pressing his lips to her neck, whimpering at the feeling of her walls engulfing him, taking him, and driving him wild.

“Say my name.” he growled, moving his hand to her backside. She sighed, swallowing heavily.

“Ethan.” Claire’s moan went an octave higher when his hand suddenly met her ass in an unexpected move. She flashed him a smirk. “Do it again, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Jesus.” His groan was the only thing on her mind. He spanked her again and she cried out, her hands twitching in his hold.

He drove into her, each thrust deeper than the last. He was getting close, very close, in fact, and the dark look she was giving him only pushed him further towards the brink.

“Harder.” Claire demanded, squeezing him again. Ethan’s head fell onto her shoulder with a primal growl, hips snapping faster and rougher against hers. Room was filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, punctuated by their moans.

Her sighs were getting higher, her lungs taking in so much air that she was getting lightheaded.

“Come.” Ethan ordered, sinking his teeth into her lower lip and pulling on it. She shattered around him, gasping his name. He still moved, chasing the release until he followed her, sinking into her with her name on his lips.

He let go of her wrists, her arms falling heavily onto his shoulders as they reveled in the bright aftershocks. They remained intertwined for a long while, breathing heavily and stroking each other’s bodies with gentle hands. When they finally separated, they took care of each other, helping each other get dressed and smoothing each other’s hair.

Claire looked at him sheepishly – he noticed, blushing furiously as he asked. “Something on your mind?”

“Are you feeling better now, Dr. Ramsey?” she grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Jesus, Claire, I- yes. I do feel better.” He shook his head, realizing that it was a battle he wasn’t going to win. “But I’d feel better if I could take you home.”

“So we could cuddle?” she joked, grinning at him softly.

“Among other things.”

With a nod, she hooked her arm around his for the second time that evening. Just as they were about to leave, Ethan turned to look back at the room behind them.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to look at this gym the same way ever again.”

“Have fun working out with The Boys the next time you’re here.”  

Notes

I almost forgot this fic even existed, my head isn’t really in it right now. But I really enjoyed writing it and thought you guys should get a chance to maybe enjoy it too.

Thank you so much for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #playchoices

[katsukikitten]

WARNINGS : N!SFW 18+ AGED UP AU! SOME SCENES MAY CONTAIN GRAPHIC CONTENT, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YANDERE THEMES GIF MADE BY ME

It started out with a package.  

Roses really, neatly tucked away in plastic and a glass vase that nestled into loud styrofoam.

Or at least that's when you started to notice it.

Actually it started with a phone call didn't it?

Just a few days ago the old rotary phone,  the one you bought for nostalgia, rang. This in itself was not odd, you picked up the aged yellow receiver and pressed the cool plastic to your ear.

But you did not speak, waiting patiently for the other line to come to life. After a few moments of silence you figure it to be a telemarketer, the automated type that doesn't start its spiel until it hears a tone, a voice. So you hang up.

The random call lost to both time and thought.

But you cannot forget this package that acted as a catalyst, to what you were not sure.

You just knew it was something.

The white box with the flower company's name on the side of the cardboard sat on your concrete steps, just past the waist high fence. You were returning from a run, huffing as you bent over, you figured it was most likely for your neighbor but it had your address. The recipient's name had been worn off from the poor handling of the package, you had figured the contents to be broken. Despite the state of the box the roses were perfectly intact. Crystal vase sparkling even through the opaque wrapping, a note on top that read.

I'll love you always.

Ah so this was not for you. You scoff, this was meant for your neighbor as you first originally thought. It made more sense that way. What with his boyfriend being long distance, it was obvious. He most likely remembered his address wrong and put yours in error. As you're haphazardly closing the box, keeping the note in hand, your neighbor waltz from his door.

"Ah, um Denki-kun" You call,  a bright smile beams on his face as he makes his way to meet you at your shared fence.

"Love!" He greets, strong hand giving your bicep a soft squeeze, "Ah flowers? Spill!"

"Well they aren't mine. I...I think they're yours. Here." You shove the box and note into his hands, stupid tears trying to prick your eyes.

Why? You were unsure.

Maybe you were a bit jealous. Thinking back you couldn't remember the last time you had even had a flirtatious comment or cat call sent your way. You lived a normal quiet life with your "abnormality". Quirkless. You worked from home, spoke to a select few and hardly left your house. It contributed to your wait gain thus adding to your small list of places to go.

The grocery store.

And the gym Denki invited you to or around the block for a run.

After a gurgling amount of time you finally achieved your dream body. Now all that was left was to maintain it.

"Wait!" Denki calls, "This isn't my boyfriend's handwriting."

Furrowing your brows, hand on the handle the answer comes to you.

"Probably just one of those fonts meant to look like handwriting."

"No, come look. It was made with a ballpoint pen." Nothing escapes his pro hero trained eye, his finger slides beneath the words, "He seems passionate! Lucky duck look at how deep love is."

He passes the card to you, giving you a wink as he passes the white box. Sure enough there are divots in the card stock, love is the deepest. Deep enough it almost ripped through the thick paper. You swallow thickly racking your brain, your job requires you to have answers to every question. Logical answers. So it's no surprise your mind wanders until it comes up with something. Your eyes shift to the right, you were lucky enough for your little house to be on the corner of the block.

The delicate roses must have been intended for your neighbor diagonal from you. You wait until Denki is halfway down the block before you rush across the quiet street to set the flowers up neatly on the porch. Throwing the box and wrapping into the trash before you speed walk into the safety of your sanctuary.

Your cats prance to the door to greet you and then sprint to the kitchen to be fed. As if you hadn't just fed them before your run a little less than an hour ago.

The rest of your night is uneventful. You curl on the couch, nestled deep within an old cardigan and the comfort of your leggings with a pile of work to be analyzed. To find the devil in the details and solve what seemed unsolvable.

The answers were always there, under your nose. Found easily by your trained eye but how could you not see the obvious answers when you had the luxury of a bird's eye view. The luxury of knowing the whole story from the shakey beginning to the bitter end.

A luxury you would not have for your own story.

The shrill ring cuts through the comfortable silence causing you to jump from your skin, the cats perk their heads up lazily to see what disturbed them before tucking their head back down.

You tell yourself it's a wrong number, a telemarketer but curiosity is beginning to get the better of you.

And curiosity is a deadly, loud thing. Louder than reason. Reason you had learned from the safety of your home, from other people's mistakes. The same very mistakes that sit on your lap with harsh red ink labeling them C L A S S I F I E D.

It rings a fourth time as you stand, the bell calling out for your attention, demanding you speak. You lift the receiver, again there is silence on the other end.

You wait patiently, is this another automated telemarketer? Had you entered your real number by mistake for one of those stupid store discounts?

You must have, still you resist the urge to tap the speaker of the phone to see if it would trigger the recording.

Instead you drop the receiver onto the base, rattling the hidden bell.

And that was that, you return to your work. Pouring over the details to find the pattern, to build a psychological profile to avoid a tragedy in the future.

Ironic how you cannot prevent your own.

It isn't until a few weeks later does the first letter find its way into your mailbox.

It seemed harmless enough you thought it to be an accident, just neatly looped words proclaiming their love. But it was never fully addressed to you and when you tried to pass it off to Denki, again he denied that the letter belonged to him.

Still, those looping letters twist into your memory, coming to the forefront of your mind every now and again. As if the paper that lies on your dining room table reads itself aloud, from beginning to end at the top of every hour.

As if the ink doesn't want you to forget.

"I am not sure when it started, but it did. I had fallen for you despite my efforts not to. A half of a year I've told myself to forget it, to forget you. And yet I cannot bring myself to stop, the more I try the more you come to mind. And the more I find myself near you. It's as if you're a bad drug I can't quit. I've been watching you. Everything you do is done in such cautious beauty. Please answer next time my dear."

Silence for weeks after that, at least as far as the rotary phone and the mailbox were concerned. You would occasionally get a text from an unknown number.

A transposed number, an error on the sender's end. Or so you assured yourself, especially when they would seem a bit too coincidental. When you were out for a jog or out at the gym at a different time than usual a text would come through.

For a second your mouth would go dry, your blood ice cold as you read the black letters atop the white screen. Huffing as your lack of breath came from a psychological response as opposed to your physical running.

Why aren't you home?

See you soon?

But these couldn't be intended for you. How could they? You could list the people you knew outside of your family and work place on one hand.

Denki.

And only because he spoke to you first!

So these texts, these little messages laced with concern could have been for an estranged spouse, a forgetful spouse or some partner who lacked the ability to properly communicate.

You just knew they weren't for you.

Or so your new mantra goes.

Paranoia didn't begin to sink it's sharp teeth into you until you noticed your cats' odd behavior.

In an immeasurable amount of time they went from lazy, happy go lucky animals to hostile even aggressive creatures. As if they were suddenly feral.

Oddly enough they only acted this way during certain times, mainly at night. Their moon eyes saw things you could not, their enhanced hearing heard things you could not, things you labeled, rat or mouse.

Would a mouse or rat cause a cat to hiss at shrouded corners? To claw at the wall with a howl that sounded more like a scream? Would it make them avoid the closet door in your room?

Maybe it was bigger? The floorboards above did groan more often than not lately. Maybe it was a raccoon even.

Yes, that had to be the cause of their behavior.

And yet there was still that one time, that one instance you sometimes dream about waking in a cold sweet.

The thing you cannot explain away, nor label as mouse, rat, not even a raccoon.

A cocktail of a tired mind and a trick of the eye but simply not vermin.

It was overcast, a sickly grey as the day wept deep into the night. The weather, naturally, caused you to melt into the plush material of your couch as you consumed comfort movie after comfort movie. You were given a reprieve from your worry as your cats seemed normal, sleepy just as you were that day. Even Nyx chose to laze on your chest as a temporary throne. Your couch is flush against the arch way that leads into the dining room and kitchen, giving it's back to part of the hallway towards the main bathroom and your bedroom at the back.

This angle always caused you great anxiety but there was no other way your luxury couch could fit in the small living room and so you always sunk low into the cushions.

Suddenly Nyx's ears twitch and her eyes snap open, waking only a cat knows how. On high alert to a sound totally lost to your draft ear. Her eyes widen, pupils dilating to adjust better to the shadowed room. The glow of the TV casts such a glow on the objects around you, flicker in soft and harsh lights. Slowly Nyx cranes her neck to see what exactly disturbed her sleep, just as her eyes lock on whatever is behind you, you see it for just a fraction of a second.

In the reflection of those moon eyes you see it. Distorted only from the curvature of her lens and the grain of the TV but there is no denying its shape.

A crude outline of a man, broad shouldered and faceless in the dark.

You freeze, mirroring your cat. Breath held as you watch the figure in the pitch black pupil. Wishing, hoping and praying that what you see is not really there.

After an eon of a moment, Nyx begins to shrink in on herself before silently slinking from the couch to find shelter beneath it.

You are not brave enough to move, to crane your head just as your cat did before you to confirm if what you saw was real. And in the milliseconds that the TV goes black you avoid the corner the figure should be standing in. Goose flesh breaks out over your skin, making you feel vulnerable and cold. While your feet burn begging you to get up.  

To run.

After a lot of mental reassurance and silence you begin to settle down. Easing yourself back into the rational world. Even becoming brave enough to stare into the TV, into the corner where the figure should be reflected in.

Each passing second as you wait for that small moment of blackness sends your heart into an irrational pace. Finally it happens and when you see nothing you sigh with relief.

Mentally giving yourself an "I told you it was nothing." talk.

That is until you hear a sound, a thump and a click from the back bedroom.

Your bedroom.

But the sound seems as if it came from within, as if it were your closet door.

Your heart explodes into frantic erratic beating.

The shrill ring of the old rotary phone rips through the dialogue of the movie but it can be barely heard over the hum of your blood.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

Tonight you are frozen in place, whether that be from petrifying fear or sheer stubborn denial you cannot say. You just know one thing.  You do not want to deal with the automated telemarketer who never seems to speak.

It rings four more times before it stops.

You chalk it up to coincidence. To nothing.

Late evening turns into late night and sooner rather than later you find yourself in the mouth of the hallway. Staring down your bedroom door as your mind plays on repeat the sound of a door closing from earlier that night.

You cannot let the boogie man keep you from sleep. Slowly you enter, flicking on all the lights.

Everything seems to be in place, the small pile of laundry still lies abandoned by your hamper, your bed neatly made, pillows haphazardly lying about the comforter. Hell even your inherited diamond drop necklace still sits snugly in the jewelry dish on your night stand.

The townhouse makes an odd sound, you jump out of your skin. Clutching your phone so hard the lock and volume buttons imprint into your palms.

No longer can you ignore the elephant in the room as the silence from this particular space screams at deafening volumes until you dare to look. Your eyes flicker to your left and there it is.

Your closet door, seeming to yawn and stretch even in the harsh hue of the overhead light. A closet is always an ominous, odd place and the sounds it may or may not have made cause a great twisting in your stomach. The shine of the knob calls to you with deadly wonder. Begging you to turn the gleaming metal to reveal the darkness behind the bland white door.

It should be inspected shouldn't it? If you ever wanted to sleep soundly you would need to reveal what may lurk in the dark.

Creeping towards the door with baited breath until finally your hand hovers over the knob.

"Open me." It seems to whisper in delighted glee, elated to see your stressed, scared features distort in its polished brass. You retract your fingers as if burned, biting onto your lip as you scrape your large armchair against the wood. Shoving it into place against the closet door.

You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the door until your eyes burn. You turn off the overhead light but keep the soft light of your nightstand lamp on.

You dream fever dreams of flashing lights as a storm passes overhead. Dream of the closet door laughing in the night, of cool fingers pressed into your skin.  

Jolting awake you reach for your phone as your senses slowly come to you. Your eyes fly to the armchair in the mid morning light. It rests in the same spot you left it ominously staring at your bed.

Something seems off about it or maybe you just imagine that there is a deep divot in the cushion, as if someone or something sat in the armchair most of the night.

You close your eyes and go over rational explanations. Always bringing back to yourself the same question.

Who in the world would want you?

Bringing you back full circle, that you were getting ahead of yourself. The cart before the horse in a sense and letting your mind race without restraint.

Letting the season of Fall try to creep into your bones and cause an artificial fear.

Still it's not too long after that do the cats avoid your room altogether.

While you choose to do what you've always done, push the problem aside and explain it away.

The phone rings as you're lacing up your running shoes. You pick up the receiver without bringing it to your ear and place it down gently.

It's just a wrong number anyway.

Tonight air bites at your nose, leaves crunching underfoot as wind whips around buildings and trash, carrying with it the promise of a harsh winter to come.

Your feet carry you slowly back to the direction of home as they beat down your normal, safe route.

A right from your little townhome, straight for two blocks before you would find the winding black pavement. It would snake past the backs of homes through some small trees but never a path that was fully hidden.

Always out in the open but giving you the ability to peer into people's lives as you passed. Witnessing dinners, arguments and heated moments of passion. Silently you thanked Kami you were not positioned on this route.

You keep your eyes focused ahead, the music in your ears low to listen for possible passers such as a bike or a better runner than yourself.

You pass a tree that seems thicker than normal, your phone buzzes on your arm band.

An email, it has to be an email.

Yet your mind wanders to those worried texts, lingers on the thoughts of if that tree had always been that wide, if the quickly setting sun had always cast the path in blood red. The maroon leaves flutter overhead, falling to the ground.

More crunching than what you think your feet should produce has you running faster. Forcing yourself not to glance over your shoulder. Your breathing becomes rasped as you borderline sprint home, still the crunching comes closer.

It isn't until someone brushes your shoulder as they pass do you let out a blood curdling scream. Huffing to catch your breath as you take a step back.  The jogger, your neighbor from across the street that you occasionally run into, removes his earbud.

"You okay?" He addresses you by your name and suddenly you're embarrassed that you do not know his. He takes your silence as an answer, his brow furrowing.

"I thought you'd be less skittish since your new boyfriend's been coming around." Your mouth goes dry.

"Wh...what?"

"Yea he seems so sweet. He always checks the windows to make sure they are locked at night." He takes in your response and shrugs, "It's getting late. Since I didn't see your boyfriend there yet, I'll jog you home."

The jog home is agonizing,your mind racing far faster than your feet can go.

What did he mean he saw him checking the windows? What boyfriend?

Maybe, maybe he mixed up your house with Denki's again. It's happened once before when he was returning mail. So there was a good chance he was mistaken again.

Still the closer the two of you get to home the worse you feel. A brick sits in your stomach as he jogs in place before your fence. He gives you a knowing smile and a wink as you wave him goodbye.

It isn't until you turn to face your home do you notice it, the white rectangle stark against your black door.

There is an envelope taped to the thick oak, addressed to no one but "My beloved".

You rip it from the wood with ragged breath as you bring it inside. Already you can feel the contents squirming, fidgeting as it waits to be read.

Polaroid photos fall to the hardwood floors, pictures of you running down your favorite path. Blurred images of you walking down the aisles of the grocery store, and even a photo of you taken between the cracks of the fence in your front yard.  

There are no more photos after that, at least not this time. Just that fucking letter written in long looping ink  You feel the words tighten around your throat as horror wraps its spindly fingers around your guts and yanks them towards the floor.

Your knees threaten to buckle as your eyes rapidly move along the page.

"In these moments you are the most beautiful. Blissfully unaware of prying eyes. In my time I've come to care for you I've noticed I'm not the only one watching. People gaze at you with whispered murmurs, with pitying eyes as they spin tales of your life. Speculating gossip as you prance about the neighborhood. Flaunting in those tight running shorts that hold every godly curve of your thighs and ass. Of the light jacket you leave unzipped so they can get a better view of your bouncing breasts tucked in your black sports bra. I wonder, would they bounce like that when you ride on my cock? Would your hair stick to your forehead like that as I rail you from behind. Would that angelic voice squeak out for more? For me? Ah I'm salivating thinking of it, harder than I've ever been. Please do not wear those out while running. In fact you don't have to run anymore Doll. You just need to let me take care of you God damn it. You little fucking whore. You seductive vixen with your God damned doe eyes. Just...just fucking answer please."

Rage and fear fight for control as you reread the letter for the fourth, fifth time before you finally move. Rage, for once, wins. You slam the door behind you locking the deadbolt before running to the back bedroom. Throwing the heavy chair from the closet door and ripping it open.  

Nothing lies within it, just clothes that begin to smell of neglect. Of old running shoes you didn't have the heart to throw away.

Of relief that whoever was sending these letters, these ones that weren't meant for you. Wasn't currently in the house.

The floorboards overhead groan and for a moment you have half a mind to tuck your cats away into their carrier, buy a one way train ticket to bumfuck nowhere and set your house ablaze.

Instead you move the chair back in front of the closet, grabbing things from your back bedroom to start your new life on your couch.

Time passes as the trees become more bare, their spindly fingers reaching out to tap the roof at odd hours of the night.

Tomorrow you promised yourself you would run.

And yet you find yourself dressed, lacing up your shoes before slowly opening the door. Your jacket is zipped all the way up, your hair neatly tied back and just as you step foot out the front door a heavy wind rips through the yard causing Denki's unlatched gate to slam. You jump back startled as your fear clings to you like a second skin. The letter begins to overlap in your head and the polaroid photos you had trashed a few weeks ago burn into your retinas. A faint snap and a whirl comes from close by and suddenly your stomach churns. Bile rushes up your windpipe too quickly, slamming the door shut and running to the bathroom. You barely make it as you dry heave into the porcelain bowl, huffing in the air of fresh toilet water. The smell starts a vicious cycle of nausea until finally your clammy skin begins to cool, pressing yourself to the side of the tub. In your panic your skin becomes sensitive, hyper aware of each stitch in your jacket, your sports bra and your jogging leggings. Your rip at your clothes until you peel them off of you, huffing as you scramble to get into the shower.

It does not matter that the water is not yet hot. Hell it isn't even lukewarm still you find yourself in the stream as it becomes scalding. Scrubbing at your skin with soap over and over and over. Nails pulling away already raw skin until that burning water begins to cool. A floorboard creaks overhead causing your head to snap up. The ceiling holds no secrets and yet no answers until you see it. A small hole, one you aren't sure if it's always been there, gaping from the attic over your shower and bath. It's too dark to tell if there is someone peering down at you from above or not.

Instead of freaking out your head slowly tilts away from the haunting discovery. Turning off the water, opening the curtain and wrapping yourself in a towel. As if it were every day you see something like that, as if it were nothing more than a spider lingering that you'd wish to forget.

It's fine It's always been there

But that would be the last time you would take a shower in that house.

Even though you hardly left your couch, things would still go missing in yourself. Things like the remote or one of your hundreds of phone charger cords. Even documents to cases but you didn't care, couldn't care. Otherwise you would break. Shatter.

Your days consisted of lying on the couch and consuming an ungodly amount of television. Doing so until your eyes burned although you begged them to stay open. Sadly everyone needed sleep and so you did. Giving into exhaustion as your eyes fluttered closed and your body weak, relaxing into the comfort of the couch.

Hours are lost to you so you dream and dream. Of a better time or of yourself in one of your files to dissect. Giving yourself that perfect bird's eye view and wondering how the victim never saw it coming.

In your dream you feel something along your face, smooth fingertips trace down your cheek over and over at a lulling pace.

"So perfect." A whispered serenade melding in with a snap and a whirl. A flash of lightning from a passing storm.

Except there was no storm coming in.

Your eyes snap open as you jerk to a sitting position frantically looking around the room.  When your eyes find nothing you allow your beating heart to settle back into your numbed state, more than ready to melt into the couch.

Until your stomach growls forcing you to focus on a new problem.

When was the last time you ate? Your stomach had long forgotten about food, choosing to conserve energy in case you needed to run from whatever the hell it was in your head.

Forgoing dressing you place your hand on the knob, wallet in hand. Two sets of glowing eyes watch you from beneath the couch. Twisting the metal to yank the door open you are greeted with cold fall air. The wind whips hair into your face as your mind quickly wanders. You half imagined a man to be standing in the middle of the street. Mouth stretched too far over gleaming teeth, lips parting enough as the wind brings with it the sound of your name.

Frantically you move your hair from your face, eyes searching up and down the street to find no one, nothing.

As it should be at 10am on a weekday. Suddenly the weight of going outside sits on your shoulders, despite the convenience store being a ten minute walk both ways, the thought of you going alone scared you.  Slowly you shut the door, falling to your knees before lying face down on your floor openly sobbing.

A creaking board sends you back to high alert, you remove your jacket and decide to order take out instead.

The knocking at your front door jolts you awake, the TV drones in the background with hazed over words as you quickly come to. Heart slamming into your chest before your stomach growls loudly. Right, food.

Your hand hovers over the knob as if suddenly you cannot move, as if the person on the other side of the door is an imposter lying in wait. Another knock comes at the door, he announces who he works for which eases your phobia a bit. You swallow thickly before finally opening the door, hands sweating as the anticipation of the identity of the stranger on your porch.

He seems to check out, his outfit covered in logos for your takeout restaurant of choice, car labeled as such as well. He holds the receipt towards you. His eyes wander over the face of the house, giving you sudden chills.

The question falls from your numb lips.  

"D...do you see anyone in the windows?" The delivery guy visibly jarrs, eyes darting to the windows of your room and the living room. Suddenly his face changes as a knowing smile spreads on his lips.

"This is a prank isn't it? For Halloween right?" He chuckles, but when he sees the pen shaking in your grip his face goes stone cold. Eyes darting to your left, to the bedroom windows. He taps the paper, indicating where you need to sign, you take a moment to do so.

The old rotary phone screams from the living room, making you both jump.

"Guess I better get that." You gesture, grabbing for your food. He nods affirmation before stepping off of your small porch a little too quickly.

You slam the front door, appetite washed away by each shrill of the small bell. Hesitantly you reach for it,  you have to know, need to know who could be on the other side.

The receiver is cold against your ear, the other line is quiet, although you can hear something soft in the background.

Talking, it sounds familiar, like an echo or almost as if there is a delay. It almost sounds like the same commercial that's playing on your TV right now.

Gently you set the phone down, the soft click echoes in the space around you. You sit on the couch before lying, covering yourself in your blanket as your takeout sits by the door, forgotten.

It wouldn't be too long before it begins to rot, almost as quickly as you.

The phone rings

And rings

And rings.

Nightly in fact, for the next few weeks as you cry silently trying to ignore the sound. Turning up the TV as loud as it can go, 24/7 until finally the speakers blow and you are left with nothing but that shrill shriek. The demand of the small plastic item that was meant to bring to a comforting memory from the past comes more often. Every four hours, every three hours, every hour until finally when it comes to an end it breathes again.

Screaming into the night tearing away your hearing, your sanity until finally you get up from your spot on the couch. Clothes falling away from your frame as they had grown in the time you sat. The time that you watched.

Each step is agonizing as sobs rack through your body, shaking hands making it hard to reach for the cool receiver.

You press it to your ear and for a final time your mind attempts logic. It is just an automated telemarketer, a glitch or determined program but the thought crumbles as your ears strain to hear the soft breath on the other line.

"Please…please stop." You sob into the receiver when no one speaks. The silence deafening as your mind can no longer keep with the charade.

That everything is okay and has always been okay. That the red flags you studied for a living were never there, washed away by your feigned ignorance.

"Finally got a response out of you." A velvet voice chimes, agitation lacing his syllables, "Gods, I just cannot wait to have you. It was worth it you know? Living in your walls for months."

"Why are you doing this?" Your voice barely a whisper, a soggy huff more than anything.

"I'm glad you asked." You body goes rigid, a haze blankets your mind and smothers the scream tearing up your throat.  

"Now walk out the door to me. Don't worry I'll bring your cats back to our home later."

You hang up the phone, body moving on it's own as you walk towards the front door. A door you had chosen to avoid and for good reason. But you should have known the danger lied within these four walls. Although your body feels heavy it moves normally despite you trying to fight it. Or as best you can with your worn down mind.and will. It is not as joyous as a moment for you and it is for the man in the street. His lilac hair is illuminated in the moonlight while his amethyst eyes glow iridescent. His smile is as you imagined, twisted and screwed up in such a way it makes your stomach churn. Lips stretched out almost too far over gleaming white teeth. Your face does not reflect your horror as it stays neutral, only your eyes give you way as tears fall from your cheeks.

The answer was there, under your nose, the devil in the details that you normally saw with your bird's eye view. One you didn't have the luxury of for your own story.

"Come now pet. It's time I finally teach you about what it means to be mine."

EPILOGUE

Everything is hazed over and slow, as if watching an old silent movie through the static and snow of the screen. Trying to read their lips to figure out what they are saying only for the text box to come too late.

"Perfect. Now get on your knees kitten. Open wide." You follow his orders numbly body moving on it's own as he smiles down at you. "God, you're so so perfect."

Long fingers tug at his belt before the shrill of a ring tone cuts through the silence. It is the same sound of your rotary phone at home except with an added element. The foreign sound of your whimpers and pleads for the phone to stop can just barely be heard. He looks down at the cell phone and answers.

"Denki, Baby I know I said I would come tonight. I'm just running late okay?" Amethyst eyes rove over to you and it is then that it hits you. The horror of the realization is like ice water dumped over you as you put two and two together.

The first time you saw him, visiting your neighbor over a year ago. It was such a quick exchange, eye contact and nothing more as his lips were pressed to Denki's.

Your mouth goes dry as it hangs open, slowly it becomes uncomfortable.

He changes his voice to sound like someone else's, someone with a gruff deeper tone.

"Oi quit talking to dunce face so we can finish this shit!" He removed the device from his mouth

"I'll be home after this patrol. Love you bye."

He tosses the phone before gripping your chin to spit into your mouth, his hand rests on the hem of his pants.

"Now...where was I?"  

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #yandere bnha #shinso yandere #yandere shinso x reader #bnha x reader #bnha harem collab #bnha halloween #bnha spooky

[ampintherain]

I’m Yours:

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Chapter III

Y/N is Kenny Ortega’s ‘niece’ after going through a rough breakup, Kenny decides to fly her over to stay with him, will her broken heart mend?

(Female Reader, NO SMUT, Romance, Friendship, THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FANFIC/IMAGINE, I hope it’s good, Kenny is lifelong family friend so reader calls him Uncle Kenny. I’m British so the writing is going to be British so like ‘mum’ not ‘mom’ yanno?)

(Y/n/n- your nickname. Y/e/c- your eye colour. Y/h/c- your hair colour.)

This part is going to be in Y/n’s and Charlie’s POV.

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-“I’m Charlie” he replied, “nice to meet you” he smiled back at me-

Y/N

“So you’re his niece?” I smiled at the question that Jeremy had just asked me,

“Technically no, like my Uncle Kenny said, he’s not my blood relative but I grew up calling him my uncle and it stuck, he’s my favourite person ever, I talk to him more than my own parents” I admitted,

“So... if you don’t mind my asking, why did Kenny fly you out to Vancouver?” Savannah asked, I shrugged, “you don’t need to answer, it was quite forward” she mumbled,

“No! No, it’s fine, I haven’t seen Kenny for a few months and we missed each other a lot but my mum told Kenny about my ex and I guess he decided to fly me over and cheer me up” I smiled at the girl, she pouted slightly, hearing the tint of sadness laced in my voice, I saw Madison look at me sympathetically but it wasn’t patronising, which is something I loved, I saw the confusion at the mention of ex but I decided to ignore it, I felt like it wasn’t necessary to tell a bunch of people I’ve just met about the 13 month long relationship that my boyfriend deemed acceptable to have during his one with myself.

“Right guys, are we ready?” Kenny asked as he strolled into the tent happily, coming up to me and placing his hands gently on my shoulder, “you alright my little Sun?” He questioned, looking down at me, I looked up and nodded,

“I am indeed Kenneth” I smiled and slid up off the bench, Owen following after me, dipping his head down to whisper in my ear

“Kenneth?” I shushed him, giggling, “I love it” he used my shoulders as a support whilst he jumped up in the air,

“Shush, shush, Owen no! You can’t, Uncle Ken will kill me, he hates it” I reasoned with him, turning around to face Owen as we walked together, me walking backwards.

“But I love it... Y/n, you can’t say the name Kenneth and expect me not to do anything” Owen chuckled, i scrunched my nose at him, “y’know Y/n, I think we’re going to be great friends” he continued, tucking me up under his arm, “besties even”

“Ew, don’t say besties” I laughed, Charlie slowed down on his way to the set, stopping beside Owen and I,

“Is he creeping you out?” Charlie teased, nudging Owen, causing him to roll his eyes,

“Ugh as if, am I Y/n? I’m not am I?” I shook my head and smiled up at the boy beside me, “see? Charles, I told you” Owen stuck his tongue out at Charlie and walked quickly away from him in a strop, leaving me behind with Charlie,

“Hi” Charlie said simply, I looked up at him and nodded, smiling.

“Hi” I mirrored, Charlie smirked at me and stared at me, “what?” I questioned, Charlie shook his head, laughing slightly,

“Nothing, nothing” he repeated himself, saying the first ‘nothing’ quietly, almost to himself, “so uh, what’re you gonna do on set?” Charlie questioned,

“Oh I’m helping him direct, Kenny taught me everything I know, he’s the only one that supported me through everything- my family really hate the fact that I have a love for acting, singing, dancing and directing but Uncle Kenny always inspired me and pushed me to do my best” I explained,

“Oh you’re going to be bossing us around are you?” Charlie joked, winking at me, I nodded happily,

“Yes I am, and I’m going to have a fun time doing it too” I responded, “come on” I said, tapping Charlie’s forearm lightly to encourage him to walk faster with me to catch up with everybody, Kenny watched as Charlie and I came closer to view, he smiled yet he had a suspicious glint in his eyes, and if I knew my Uncle Kenny as much as I thought I did, I’d believe that he was up to something. “Sorry Uncle Kenny” I apologised coming up to stand beside him,

“No need to apologise darling,” Kenny simply replied “ready to get to work?” He questioned, I nodded and Kenny wandered over to the cast, requesting Madison, Savannah and Jadah, he was about to film the scene where we first meet Savannah’s character ‘Carrie.’ Kenny sent Booboo home as he was only called in for a briefing and script changes whilst Tori and Sacha went to the resting tent, Tori wanted to go through some of her choreography ideas and Sacha wanted to go through his lines.

I moved away from the set and sat in Uncle Jenny’s seat that had ‘Director’ written on the back, “alright boss?” I heard someone whisper from behind me, I turned around slightly to see Charlie leaning in close,

“I’m alright, how’re you?” I asked, “all of you” I continued, looking at Jeremy and Owen who were stood behind Charlie, they all smiled at me and took their scripts out from their back pockets,

“We’re great” they all said, moving to sit in their seats and beginning to read through their lines together, “so you’re gonna help direct huh?” Jeremy asked, peering up from his script to look at me,

“Yeah, I love directing and Kenny used to come to the shows I directed back in high school” I explained, “he said I was his ‘biggest inspiration’ because he thought that I could direct anything from thrillers to love stories to comedies”

“She is,” Kenny spoke up, as he had finished going through the basics with Savannah, Madison and Jadah, “I’m her biggest fan” he laughed, “right, silence on set” Kenny ordered to the crew behind the camera, they began filming, the talent that the three girls had was absolutely incredible, however, my ‘director’ brain came into play and I began to pick out things that I thought I could change, I wandered over to Kenny and took the script he had in his pocket along with a pen and began to jot down some ideas as soon as I got back into my seat.

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Charlie

I watched as Y/n scribbled in the script she had taken from Kenny, it amazed me how she had so many thoughts and ideas and wanted to put them all into effect, she was incredible. “You alright there Boss?” I questioned in a quiet tone, Y/n looked up at me with her y/e/c eyes and smiled, nodding.

“Hm? Yeah I’m okay” she said, not taking her eyes off of the script resting on her lap, I watched as Owen tapped Y/n on her shoulder,

“Whatcha working on?” He questioned, in a low whisper, “ideas for the scene?” He continued, Y/n nodded and showed him the script,

“Uh... yeah, they’re a bit rough... what do you think?” She asked nervously, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands, Owen read through the ideas, using his finger as a pointer to direct him through the scribbled notes on the page.

“They seem amazing” he said honestly, Jeremy had caught attention to what Y/n and Owen were doing, now becoming intrigued on the situation alongside myself, “Y/n has been busy coming up with ideas... show them, they won’t judge” Owen said, i heard the low whisper of the last part that he said directly to her, even I could feel her being slightly anxious about showing more people her ideas, she twisted her mouth slightly before biting her lip,

“Hey, I bet you they’re so good” I reassured, resting my hand on her arm, I heard as she took a sharp breath in, she turned to look behind her and beckoned Jeremy over, he smiled widely and jumped off of his seat, skipping jokingly over to her which caused her to stifle a giggle, she nodded her head towards herself for me to come over as well, Jeremy and I had formed a huddle around Y/n as she showed us her ideas,

“Y/n, these are really good!” Jeremy beamed, looking down at the girl sat in the director’s seat, he handed me the script for me to read through, Owen and Jeremy were right, although the notes were focusing on the small details of the scene, I could see how it would improve it, she had an eye for the smaller things, an eye for detail and that was something that not everyone could obtain.

“I agree, why don’t you show Kenny these?” I questioned, Y/n shrugged slightly, still unsure of his blatant talent, she consistently tugged on the oversized sleeves of her hoodie and brought her hands up close to her face, rubbing the fabric over her nose as she scrunched her face out of confusion and possible anxiety.

“Oh I don’t know” she trailed off, I tilted my head and smirked at her, “what?” She questioned, smiling half heartedly,

“Kenny!” I exclaimed, as soon as they stopped filming the scene, “Kenny, come here” I beckoned him over, Kenny told Sav, Mads and Jay to take 10 as he came over to us, Jeremy and I stepped to the side to reveal Y/n, who had now stood up,

“Wassup guys?” Kenny asked, his voice filled with concern, he scanned over Y/n’s face, “has he said anything to you?” Kenny questioned, Owen, Jeremy and I all looked at each other in confusion,

“Has who messaged her?” Owen asked, Y/n shook her head at the subject, waving Owen off,

“Nobody, and no, Uncle Kenny, he hasn’t...” she trailed off,

“No, she has some ideas for the scene and I think they’d really work” I said, Y/n nodded as Kenny tilted his head at her, she walked forward and handed Kenny the script she had stolen from him not so long ago,

“Ah so that’s where my script went” Kenny joked, looking through the ideas written on the script “yeah... yeah okay” he said loudly, “right, my little star, you ready to put these into action?” Kenny questioned, rubbing his hands together, Y/n began to stutter over her words, I placed my hands on her shoulders and leant down to whisper in her ear,

“You’ve got this Angel” I said, the pet name slipping out, she looked at me and smiled,

“Sav, Mads, Jay- you ready?” Kenny questioned, the girls nodded and ran over to set, “come on Star” he smiled, wrapping his arms around Y/n and ushering her over to set with him.

“Angel huh?” Jeremy asked, winking at me,

“Oh shut it” I retorted, hitting jumping on Jeremy’s back, Owen bundled on top of me,

“Charlie’s got a crush” he teased, I rolled my eyes.

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Y/N

I walked over to the three girls and spoke them through my ideas, “Jadah, Madison, I think instead of seeing each other and walking down the hall together, maybe Julie could walk to her locker on her own, with her head down and after looking through her locker she closes the door and there’s Flynn. It would show a contrast between the two at the moment, yanno, Julie’s still upset about her mum and there’s Flynn who’s trying to cheer her up” I explained, the two girls smiled, “Savannah, I think what you were doing is great but instead of having a drastic change in attitude you should be more passive aggressive towards Flynn” I said, turning to the girl next to me.

“You were right Ken, she is good” Savannah complimented, Kenny smiled proudly and gave me a tight hug before walking off set with me, I saw Charlie, Owen and Jeremy standing there with their thumbs up at me, I mirrored the motion and laughed before turning back to the set,

“Right, quiet on set please... everybody ready?” The girls all nodded whilst the three boys quietened down, “action” Kenny said, we watched as the adapted scene played out, Kenny kept hugging me into him and repeating how proud he was of me, “and cut! Well done girls and well done you” Uncle Kenny smiled and hugged me again,

“Okay okay, enough with the hugs” I joked, wriggling out of his hold, “was it okay? The scene?” I questioned, Madison came running up behind me and hugged me from behind,

“It was amazing, I loved it” she beamed, spinning me around to look at her, “you’re talented Y/n” she continued,

“So talented!” Jadah called as she ran up to the group, with Savannah. The three boys came up behind me.

“You did me proud Star” Uncle Kenny beamed, I could hear a waver in his voice as I looked up at him, I saw him wiping a tear away,

“Oh Uncle Kenny” I cooed, “what’re you crying for?” The cast aw’ed behind me as they pulled him and I in for a group hug,

“It’s just, Y/n, I’ve never seen you in action before, I’ve seen the product of it but never the making” Kenny said, I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Guys! I have an idea” Tori’s voice rang through the group as we separated, “karaoke. Tonight?” She suggested and Sacha came up too,

“I’m down” Sacha said, eagerly, the rest of the group nodded, even Kenny

“Um, I think I’ll stay home, I’m not too big on” I said but was quickly cut off by Owen,

“She’s coming, she’s definitely coming” he said, resting his chin on top of my head, “please” he begged me, “please please please” he repeated, the rest of the cast joined in with the begging, Charlie and Jeremy taking it as far as to get on their knees, Kenny gently tugged me near him,

“Come on Y/n/n, you need this, you know you do” he said loud enough for me to hear,

“Oh fine! Fine okay! I’ll come” I rolled my eyes jokingly, Madison pulled me to her by my arm,

“I want to duet with Y/n first!” She screamed,

“I’m awful at singing...” I trailed off, Kenny instantly refuting that statement, saying that I had, and I quote ‘a voice of an angel’ we continued going through all of the scenes that Kenny wanted to go through that day, I had him coming up to me asking for suggestions on scene improvements and developments.

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Charlie

“God I am so tired!” Owen whined, just as we finished the last scene of the day, putting all of his weight on me, I grunted at the sudden added weight before bending down and lifting Owen up onto my back “ah... this, this is nice” Owen sighed in delight as I lugged him on my back, walking towards our trailers, I watched as Y/n walked ahead with Savannah, the two had managed to become very close throughout the day, Savannah came up to Y/n anytime she wasn’t needed on set, they sat and talked for ages.

“Well tomorrow we have to film the hot dog scene” Jeremy said, “and that will probably take us hours” his voice dragging as he thought of how long it would take to film, I laughed and waved Jeremy off as he entered his trailer, I adjusted the weight that was Owen on my back before walking a little bit further, dropping Owen off at his trailer,

“Here you are your majesty” I joked, bowing sarcastically towards Owen, causing him to smack the back of my head, “and that’s the thanks I get for carrying you” I rubbed the area that Owen had just hit and turned on my heels to walk to my trailer that was just across from him.

I entered my trailer and hung my costume up on the rail, I jumped into the cold shower and washed off the sweat that had been building up throughout the day, I then changed into jeans and a t-shirt, pulling on my boots before leaving my trailer, I spotted Owen and Jeremy already dressed and leaving their trailers so I caught up with them and walked with them out of the filming lot.

“You took your time” Madison jokingly complained, resting her head on Y/n’s shoulder, Y/n giggled before quickly pulling her hair up into a high ponytail,

“So, guys! I have a whole karaoke set up at my apartment, if you guys come over for 9?” Tori asked, the rest of us nodded in agreement, Madison and her dad, Mr Reyes, walked away, bidding farewell to everyone, Sav was giggling and joking with Y/n before she took Jadah and Sacha away to drive them home,

“Bye Y/n/n!” Sav called, after giving Y/n a hug, the girl waved to Sav,

“Bye! Bye Jadah, bye Sacha!” She smiled, she turned to the boys and I, having Kenny behind her,

“So you are coming later?” I asked Y/n, she nodded and smiled,

“Uncle Kenny won’t have it any other way” she joked, “so... I’ll see you all in a few hours?” She questioned, causing Jer, O and I to all nod, “okay... we’ll see you later” she smiled, walking away with Kenny,

“Oh! Y/n!” I called out, gaining a sudden burst of confidence, she turned around and tilted her head in a silent question, “after your duet with Mads and your duet with Sav... do you think you’ll have time to fit me in for one?”

“Yeah! Sure... why not?” She laughed before turning back around and running after Kenny who had continued to walk towards the car, I bounced on my feet happily,

“Cool” I mumbled to myself, “Owen, you ready?” I asked, spinning my car keys on my finger as I turned around, Owen and Jeremy were looking at me suspiciously, “what?” I questioned.

“I think you know what” Jeremy said in an obvious tone,

“You like that girl!” Owen exclaimed,

“Pfft, what?! No! I just met her...” I trailed off, it was true. I did just meet her, but that still didn’t mean that I couldn’t of liked her in the amount of hours she was around, I mean from 8am to 6pm... could I have fallen for her in that time? Surely not.

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The time to go to Tori’s had finally come around, I had changed into a causal shirt and jeans, just so I didn’t feel overly formal, “so what duet are you thinking about doing with Y/n?” Owen asked as we got into the car.

“I don’t know... it’s just a silly duet O” I reasoned, beginning to drive over to Tori’s apartment.

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Y/N

Uncle Kenny parked up his car and we began to make our way up to Tori’s apartment, “so you’re singing with Charlie?” Kenny asked,

“Yeah, and Madison and Savannah” I replied, “and Madison is singing with Charlie and so is Owen and Jeremy” Kenny looked at me in agreement and knocked on Tori’s front door,

“Hi! Come in! Come in!” She said cheerily as she stepped to the side to allow us in, as we entered, Savannah came rushing up to me, embracing me in a quick hug, then came Mads and Jadah who joined in on the group hug, “wait! Wait!” Tori whined as I heard her feet pat towards the group, quickly flying her arms around the group, “I love group hugs” she sighed in content, as the group quickly dispersed I was greeted with Jeremy, Owen and Charlie

“Sacha and Booboo couldn’t make it in the end” Savannah announced, pouting at the sad news, “also why didn’t you boys join in on the hug?” She sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest,

“Because...” Owen started as he and the boys stood up “we wanted one of our own” the three boys ran towards me and engulfed me in yet another group hug,

“Okay” I said, “okay guys” I laughed wriggling out of the hug, “I swear, I’ve never had this many hugs in my life” I joked as Owen ushered me over to sit next to him on the couch, Kenny wandered over and sat at the kitchen island drinking a glass of water.

Tori began to set up the karaoke machine whilst everyone was talking amongst one another, “so did you enjoy your first day on set?” Owen asked me,

“Oh yeah, it was great, I was really nervous, I didn’t want to mess anything up” I admitted,

“You were great” I heard a voice say, I turned to see Charlie moving to sit next to me just as Savannah got up to get a drink with Jadah, “honestly, you were amazing, a real natural” I blushed at his words and thanked him, “you excited for our duet?” Charlie asked, nudging me slightly,

“Yeah, I’m nervous though... I don’t really sing in front of people” I said just as Mads called me up to sing with her,

B

“We are singing Dynamite” Madison announced just as the song began to play, Mads and I started singing,

‘I came to dance, dance, dance, dance’ Madison started, holding my free hand and dancing with me,

‘I hit the floor cuz that’s my plans, plans, plans, plans’ I joined in, “oh okay girl!” Tori cheered causing me to laugh as Madison continued on.

The song soon came to an end and Madison and I jokingly bowed and Savannah came running up to sing our duet, “well that was amazing girls but now it’s my turn to sing with Y/n/n” she giggled, Madison rolled her eyes and wandered off the stage, sitting next to Kenny,

“What are we singing Sav?” I questioned, she smirked at me and whispered the song choice in my ear, “I love it... okay” the song began to play-

‘Eenie meenie miney mo, catch a bad chick by her toe’ Sav started rapping, ‘if she holla, if-if she holla, let her go’ she pointed over to me, signalling me to sing,

‘She’s indecisive, she can’t decide, she keeps on looking’ Sav then interjected,

‘From left to right, girl come a bit closer, look in my eyes’ we started dancing and laughing whilst the song continued, hardly managing to get through the song fully without bursting into fits of laughter. Once the song had finished, I went to walk away to sit on the sofa before being gently pushed back by Charlie,

“Uh you said you’d sing with me” he smiled at me, “and we are singing a lovely song called No Air”

“I love that song” I admitted as we walked back over and picked up the karaoke mics, ‘No Air’ started to play, Charlie turned to look at me as we sang the first part together.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

Charlie

I held onto Y/n’s free hand as we sang, I kept smiling down at her. The song soon came to an end, I let go on Y/n’s hand and felt heat creep onto my cheeks, I’m blushing... I never blush. I thought to myself, looking back down at the girl beside me, she lowered her head and walked away to sit next Owen, I watched as he nudged her lightly and she laughed at what he was saying to her, I waited a while before sitting back down on the couch sitting next to Madison, “you like her” she stated, not even looking at me,

“I- I don’t” I stuttered, Madison rolled her eyes and hummed at me, clearly not convinced, “I just met her”

“Listen, you can like someone from the first day, it’s not like there’s a handbook to this kinda stuff” she explained, she wasn’t wrong, the way you feel towards someone can change from person to person and this has to be the quickest I’ve ever liked someone, I knew it from the moment she walked in, she had this beautiful y/h/c hair and these glimmering eyes, she had one of the kindest faces I’ve ever seen, her features were soft yet chiselled, her lips were plump and when she looked at me, I could easily get lost. She was mesmerising... and I had fallen, quick.

💜thanks for reading!💜

♡︎𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 : @thesweetestsinner , @ifilwtmfc , @ashleyleblancx , @chloepart03 ♡︎

#charliegillespie #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp reggie #jatp fanart #jatp fandom #jatp #jatp cast #owen patrick joyner x reader #owen joyner #jeremy shada #madison reyes #savannah lee may #jadah marie #sacha carlson #fanfic #imagine #my story #im yours #luke x reader #luke patterson #julieandthephantoms #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson imagine #luke julie and the phantoms imagine #jatpsource #jatpdaily #Spotify

[han-shinsuke]

k o z u m e k e n m a

🔞🔞🌹🌹🌹

•f o r n i c a t i o n•

••••

If you ask people what it means to love and be loved, the answers you will get would be different, the luckiest ones would answer with positiveness, and those who had experienced afflictions and mishaps would probably tell you how painful and cruel love could be. Let's admit it, not all of us were made for love. And worst, there were instances where some of us were just born to carpet-bomb the person we love.

Love could build possibilities but it could also be the very source of our self-destruction.

“Aah~ there ‘yah go, Y/N~” for love, I can do things I never imagined I could. I would run miles for him. Burn bridges for him. Turn ideas into possibilities.

BE THAT ‘SOMEONE’ HE WISHES TO HAVE.

Believe me. Once you finished a day full of pretensions and lies, you’d end up asking yourself, ‘how long do you plan to be someone else's puppet?’

“Ken, do you feel good?” for love, his satisfaction shall always comes first on the line. Mine is the least important.

Kenma pulls me up from the marbled floor of his bedroom, gaze stained with lust. His fingers wiping the semen off the corner of my mouth. My body is still trembling from the activities earlier. I must keep up. He's not satisfied yet. He needed more. I shall do more for him.

Those orbs leered my face for minutes. Kenma answers, “yeah, you? still sore down there?” his gaze went down to what’s between my bite-marked thighs. He caresses my reddened knees. A familiar thin smile is plastered on his lips.

My breath got caught up in my throat when he slid a finger in my dampness before putting it inside his mouth and slurped the essence in it. The memory of what we've had done earlier flashes in my mind. Kenma splayed my legs in the camp site. I was pushed down on top of a picnic table, clothes discased. The wind was cold during sunset from the lakeside. Kenma was enjoying it. Who am I to stop him? He railed me from behind. Like how he prefers it.

“Y/N, lay down for me.” still trembling, I climbed up on his bed, ready to lay on my stomach.

For love, there's nothing I wouldn't do for him.

Kenma snakes his arms around my belly, stopping me from setting down completely.

“What it is, Ken?” My breathing’s rag from all the pounding and legs flipping.

“Lay on your back, Y/N.” I was moving very slow so he helped me out. He placed me on the bed, facing him. Kenma tied his long hair. Spreading my legs wide, I put my palms on his chest, head shaking.

“You don’t have to do this, Ken.” It’s part of the set up. He would fxck me only from behind. He would fxck me but I could never get to kiss him on the lips. He would fxck me, not LOOKING at my face for I am not the woman he dreamt of doing ‘it’ with.

He can’t have her right now but soon, he will. I’m just that sick in the head college girl who have been in love with his seatmate since freshman year.

You see, I am more like of a practice ground for him.

“I want to do it this way. Allow me.” He pins my hands above my head, nodding his head as if he's telling me it’s fine.

“Kenma~” I called out his name when his thing slid inside my sore womanhood for the nth time today.

Kenma hums in my neck, rocking me in slow pace. Our fingers intertwined. My body arching up occasionally whenever that ‘thing’ stretches my rim really good.

The bed just won't stop creaking just like how my heart won't stop from beating wild inside my chest whenever he tries to kiss me on the lips.

Don't, Kenma. Don’t break your own rules. I can't let that happen. It's a complete hypocrisy if I tell that I don't wish to be kissed by those lips. I long for it.

“D–Don’t.” My head turned to the other direction, avoiding his seeking lips. It hit my neck. He wanders his warmth there. Tongue gliding the bulging veins due to his slow but heavy pumping.

Sex is tiring. It really is. But it’s Kenma Kozume. I can still go on.

“Why won’t you let me kiss your lips, Y/N?” he stops moving, burying his weight on me. Kenma grabbed my face.

“Rule number 8. Kenma won't kiss the woman he don’t love.” for him, I won't cry. I won't cry. I lied. I was crying as I reminded him of his own rule. “I’m not her, Ken. I’m not the woman you love so don't kiss me.”

“Rule number 13. Kenma is allowed to break rule number 8.”

It was sweet. It was euphoric. A kind of kiss anyone would dream to experience.

And it tasted like sin. The way his lips glides against mine. The way his tongue tastes each corners. The way he nibbles both upper and bottom lip. Those are the ways I imagine if he would kiss me.

Those aren't ideas anymore. He had let me experienced how it feels like to be kissed by him. By the man I truly love.

“Hold on baby~ Hold on~” Kenma picked where we left off. He pulled. He dig. He buried.

And he kisses me. Repeatedly. While I am crying. While I'm holding out the sob that tries escaping my lips.

•••

5:12 AM

I woke up clean and dressed with Kenma's clothes. Last night was a chaos. I was forced to my limits. He took me in every positions he’d known. My cries and pleads were all useless. He didn't listen. He had done everything he pleased.

I sighed as I climbed down from the bed. Picking my bag and my discarded uniform from last night, another sigh rolls out from my mouth. I caught a glimpse of my reflection from the mounted mirror on the wall. I look tired and ugly. What a pity.

Kenma is probably out somewhere, thinking about his princess. He has habits of leaving me right after we had sex. I’m used to it anyway. I put face powder on my face and tied my messy curls.

This will be the end of our set up. He broken his rules. Our rules. Rule number 1. Broke any rule and it's over.

I texted Kenma and said my goodbye. He did not reply. Maybe he's smoking right now. Another habit of him, throwing his iphone at the backseat when he's puffing a cigarette.

I headed out and locked his room. I passed by on the reception area of the camping site that Kenma's family is running. I left the key to the assigned employee there.

I need to walk for ten minutes to reach the jeep terminal of the mountain road. Or maybe, walk my way home. That would be long and tiring! Or maybe, try to hitch hike.

The sun is rising and I think half an hour had passed by so easily. I saw an approaching red 4x4 from the distance. I raised my thumb and put on a smile. I looked like a lost girl on the mountain road wearing a white oversized shirt and a running short partnered with white highcut chucks. The windows are tinted so it's hard for me to tell the gender of the driver.

The car stopped in front of me. The driver's seat door opens, revealing a blonde-haired but clean cut Kenma Kozume!

He cut his hair! “where do you think you're going?” he asks, frowning.

My heart hammers in my chest, drowning me. I took a step backwards when he got out of the car.

“You got a new car.” a statement instead of an answer.

“Get in.” he try to get a hold of me but I took another steps.

“No. We’re done, Ken.” I said before walking away. I love him but I can't stay anymore. I would be just a hinder for his happiness if this shxt continue.

“Y/N! You can't leave me just like that!” Kenma yelled those. I looked back at him. He's already running slow. I panicked. I ran, too, faster than his pace.

“Fxck, Y/N!” Kenma caught up to me. He snatched my small frame. Dropping me above his shoulder.

“Ah! Put me down, Kenma!” he jogs his way back to his car, panting as he slams me into the backseat. He follows, shutting the door.

“You wish to leave me? You can't, Y/N! I am forbidding you!”

“I can't stay with you anymore, Ken. We are graduating. Remember her promise that after graduation, she would give you another chance to prove yourself to her? It's happening, you could finally have her back.”

“what if I say, I don't want her now? That I want someone else now? And she's now in front of me? Pushing me away because she thinks it is the right thing to do and it's heroic.”

“heroic? Do you think I’m doing this because I feel responsible for you? That it was a hero thing? No, Ken. You got it all wrong. I am doing this because this is what a person in love shall do. To free oneself. To not be greedy. I love myself, too, Ken. I want to be happy.”

For him, I can always try to be better. For him, I am willing to surrender. For him, I can always see love as a guiding light.

Kenma grabbed me on my jaw, inching his face closer to mine.

“Be happy? With whom? I won't let you.” he breathes on my lips, I shuddered. “I don't break rules, Y/N. You know that. But last night, I just did. For you. Because I fxcking realized that I can't stand a thought of you kissing another man. I am fxckingly and undoubtedly in love with you now!”

Kenma pressed his lips on mine. A tear escaped his eye. He pulled away. He rubbed his nose against mine. A noise traveled out from my closed lips. It was a sob. Kenma kissed me again. Tears are now brimming on his eyes.

“Idiot.” I said before pulling him for a kiss.

Kenma wrapped his arms around my body and kissed me back with intense emotions,

“let’s date for real.”

“And be the only man in my life.”

///

THANK YOU FOR READING ❤️☺️❤️

#smut #haikyuu #haikyu #love #imagines #anime #kenma kozume #haikyuu kenma #kenma x you

[blownbybakugou]

I Am The Game

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): 𝚃𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: Slight angst, Fluff

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: Shigaraki poisoned Toga, but you made a cure and saved her life. Toga snapped and praised you as her god, then lead you to the league of villains, where Tomura took an interest to your quirk...

Word Count: 2.7k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Blood, attempted murder, mention of actual murder, cussing, mind break (non-sexual), Yandere properties, tooth rotting fluff, aged up/down reader (22), slightly Ooc Toga.

The sound of a steaming kettle is what woke Himiko, her body jerking up from its placement and her eyes flashing across the room. She was startled from her surroundings, to say the least. She was not able to recognize anything around her, then her eyes land on you, a young woman in her early 20s pouring a cup of herbal tea into a mug and treading towards the bed Toga was seated on.

“W-Who are you?” Toga asks, scooting back until she was against the wall behind her. “My name is Y/n. You were betrayed by your leader, and I saved you from your demise.” You spoke strongly. “But why?” Toga softens, her muscles relaxing the slightest bit. “I have a proposal. You being loyal, agile and brave, makes you a worthy companion. And therefore, I would like to ask you if you would join me, be my partner in crime, or whatever you wish to call it”

Your voice was silky and pristine while your expression contradicted what she heard. Your eyes were dull, but she couldn’t exactly tell what they looked like exactly, since they were settled on your lap, and had no emotion in them whatsoever and the rest of your face was soft and glowing with beauty. “You barely know me, how do you know if I am as loyal as you think I am?” Himiko questions, giving a quick grin to show off her sharp canines.

“I have watched you for quite awhile. I knew what was going to come of you, and I felt that I should recruit you as my own, since they didn’t see the potential in you.” You hand her the mug of tea you had poured and look her in the eyes for the first time. Toga was instantly entranced, the color of your eyes flourishing and dancing in her own. “Drink this. It’ll get rid of the headache you have.”

She hadn’t even noticed the pounding in her head until when you mentioned it, but she takes the herbal mix quickly, eager to please you. She gulps it down as fast as she can and sets down the mug with a bright smile. “That was good tea Y/n-Chan! Thank you.” You are taken aback by the sudden change of mood, but make no mistake to question it. Instead, you get up to put the mug in the sink of your apartment.

“So, do you accept my offer?” You query, glancing back at a very giddy Himiko. “Yes! You saved my life, how could I say no?” Her enthusiasm was confusing to you. She is a villain whom found out her own boss backstabbed her, yet she is being so trusting of you. As if you were her mother, or sister.

“Wonderful. We will be moving a lot, and before we start the murderous sprees, I believe a talk with your former boss, is in order.” You state, walking over to her with a smug smile. “Oh my god yes! This is going to be so fun!” Toga beams.

You kicked down the door with a small smirk, looking at all of the people inside and giving them a mock wave. Himiko giggles and leaps over the now broken door sending a deadly glare at Shigaraki, whom was leaned back in a chair nearby. “Hello everyone. This, is a warning. Dishonor has plagued you all, and we’ve come to rip it down. If you do not change your ways of betrayal, I shall send you all to a nightmarish hell, where you all will perish in ways unimaginable. But anyway, this is my partner, Himiko Toga. You may know her?” You send a teasing laugh in the way of Tomura.

“You are weak, especially without someone of her abilities, and you were a fool to try and kill her.” You say, moving up to his face, his scarred, oddly attractive face. He growls, and places his hand firmly on your cheek, waiting for the cries of mercy to begin. Only for you to punch him right in the nose. “What do you think you’re doing, you handsy bastard!” You yell, shaking your hand out.

Shigaraki takes a second to process the event that just played out. You didn’t decay. He touched you, with all 5 fingers, and you didn’t decay. “Who are you? And what the hell is your quirk?” His raspy voice sought out. “None of your damn business”

“Join us. You’re clearly very powerful, and we could use someone like you.” You snap you head to meet his daring orbs and glare him down. “You have nothing for me, therefore, I will not stay.” You try and shake free of his grasp, but his grip only tighten in determination to have you stay. You were the one he was meant to be with. The only one who he couldn’t kill with his deathly touch. He couldn’t lose you like this.

“Let go.” Himiko demands, clasping a knife closely behind her back. “What if I make you a deal? If the girl stays with you, you can both stay in the league. Sounds fair, right?” Shigaraki grins, pulling you into him. “That’s the boss’ choice, not mine. I follow her now.” Himiko snarls. “I shall not stay unless I hear an apology for Himiko.” You sneer, pushing yourself away from him and pulling your hand out of his.

His body jerked at the thought of admitting he was wrong. But you were worth it. You had to be worth it. “I’m sorry, Toga. I thought it would be better for the league, but I was wrong.” He grumbles begrudgingly. Your breath hitched, much like everyone else’s. You hadn’t expected him to actually apologize. You thought he would refuse you, and you and Toga could move on. But no, apparently this guy really didn’t want you to leave.

“Okay then, I suppose we can stay. Are you okay with that Himiko?” You question, looking back at your shocked friend. “Of course boss!” She cheers, giving you a loose hug around the waist. “I’m going to work on something. Toga, I need you with me.” You motion over to a booth with a table that was a bit dusty, but cleared off nonetheless.

The blonde female skipped over to the sitting area as you walked behind her, trying to ignore the scarlet eyes that followed your every movement.

You both sat on the red cushions of the booth seats, and you activate your quirk to begin the creating process. A cyber holographic screen projects out of your eyes and you let it float in the awaiting air as you reach into your backpack for your keyboard and controller.

You set them on the dust covered surface and watch as transparent green strings go to attach into each of the devices you had placed there. “Wow! Your quirk is so cool Y/n-Chan!” Himiko gushes, smiling widely and bouncing in her place.

“Thanks, I suppose. Stand and pose with your knives. Look frightening if you would.” You claim, fingers pressing against the hologram to move the surroundings inside.

Happily, Toga obliges. She puts on a face much like a yandere’s and hovers her knives with one behind her and one in front, seemingly about to strike. “Wonderful.” Your hand mindlessly reaches out to the side, scanning her body all while your other hand typed in code to enter her into your program.

Shigaraki’s vision trained intensely on your abilities, his gaze landing strictly on the translucent green display even when his eyes tried to wander further. What the fuck was your quirk? The question haunted him, he needed to know what power you held that stopped him from disintegrating your body, that let him touch you.

You could easily feel the many observations of the others around you, but you pay it no mind as you program Himiko into your game. Well, many have called it a game, but it is no game. It’s a nightmare no one would ever want to live in, let alone see. You were the one who made it into that, and you were also the one who trapped people inside of it.

You snap out of your thoughts of misery, and continue typing code while letting your scan sweep over every inch of Himiko’s form. She had done many poses for you, and you had implemented twice as many into your data base with only doing some slight editing and Himiko was evidently cheerful about it.

“You can sit back down. I have what I need now.” You say nonchalantly, your gaze not leaving your work. “Okay, got it boss!” She says, seating herself almost immediately. “Would you like to give it a try?” You ask, typing one last line of key into the system before starting and holding the controller out to Toga. “This is gonna be so fun!” She excites, throwing her arms in the air and squealing. If everyone wasn’t looking at you before, they definitely were now.

“Okay, there are 31 enemies in the area, all of which are horrendously terrifying. They plan to kill you in the most awful ways, and if you get trapped I’ll pull you out right away.” You speed through the explanation, trying to be vague about the outcomes and twists so that she could not easily defeat the monsters inside of your game. “Got it boss!” She beams, grabbing the controller and getting sucked into your algorithm.

Shiggy couldn’t believe his eyes. Did Toga just get sucked into a video game? This was his every dream, and he feels the itch to want to talk to you and claim you grow with every passing minute. “Stop being a pussy and go talk to her, Scarface.” He hears a deep voice scoff. “Whatever patchwork” Tomura retorts.

You watched Himiko pass each fictional horror character with flying colors, each one of her tactics more impressive than the last. You were implementing her fighting style into the game while also observing her movements to know when to pull her out of the fake environment.

You were snapped out of focus when you heard Shigaraki seat himself beside you and you lift your head lifting up to give him a daring glare, silently lettting him know to screw off. “I saw your quirk.” He says, pointing to the green panel before you.

“Yeah, And?” You snort, going back to typing away at your keyboard. “I want to play.” He deadpans. “Fuck no. Go away.” You retort, shooing him off. “Why the hell not?” He growls, clenching his fists tightly. “Because you’re a dick, and I don’t like you.” You exclaim.

“You sound like a fucking 5 year old! Just let me play damnit!” He demands, looking at your unaffected expression. “No.” You respond. With Tomura’s distractions, you had completely forgotten about Toga, who was finished with the main course of the levels, and was waiting to be let in.

You use your quirk to let the luscious blonde back into reality, and listen as she gushes over the details of your powerful quirk. Well, that didn’t last long due to her noticing her former boss’ presence. “What are you doing here Shigaraki?” She asks, suspicion lacing her voice.

“I want to play her game.” He states, voice raising ever so slightly. You laugh at his confidence in the matter. “Oh, honey,” You start. “I am the game. And you have to be really special if you want to play me.” You giggle, packing up your stuff and leaving him there with a heavy blush.

ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴏᴡɴʙʏʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ©

#bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki tomura #my hero academia shigaraki #shiggy #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki tenko #boku no hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki x you

[darksapphire29]

Imagine #6

You give Peter the silent treatment while you try to accept the newly discovered truth.

Warnings: silent treatment, mentions of death, stressed Peter (ya know, this is just a recurring theme that can probably be expected in most (if not ALL) my imagines), tiny OOC Pan (but I don’t think it’s that OOC), crying?? Umm... trigger warning for ppl who are still recovering from season 3 and/or season 5?? (I AM)

Peter was scolding Adam for something when you first left your tent.

“You idiot. You never pick dreamshade without gloves. Do you have a d-death...?” He stuttered a little, losing his trail of thought at the sight of you. You looked awful.

Your skin was pale, your eyes lined with a darkness that hinted at a lack of sleep. You stumbled a little as you wandered off into the forest to gather some fruit for breakfast. You didn’t even look at him as you passed, and his stomach dropped.

All but forgetting his annoyance, he walked briskly after you. You weren’t even following any of the trails. He passed the huts and ignored the confused look Felix sent his way. All he could think about was what was wrong with you. Were you ill? Hurt? Did something happen last night? Yesterday? He didn’t know, and was determined to find out.

When he caught sight of your cloak, he ran right up to you. He grabbed your shoulder, and you stopped. You didn’t turn to look at him.

“(Y/n),” he started, walking around your body with a hesitance that caught you off guard. You had honestly expected him to be mad. When he stood in front of you, his eyes filled with concern, you found you couldn’t look at him another second, so you turned your head away from him.

Peter furrowed his brows. You were never the shy type, always standing up for yourself and speaking out against him. It was one of the both impressive and frustrating traits he loved about you.

“Why aren’t you following the trail?” He searched your face, trying to read your eyes. But just as he was about to catch them, you looked away from him. Somehow, the boring new shades of moss by his feet were more interesting than Peter. It was too peculiar for him to leave alone.

“Is something wrong?” He asked again. The (tall/short) girl before him said nothing, all too lost in her thoughts. Was this a game to him? Or did he seriously have no idea? The most obvious answer was that he was mocking you. That he found your anger towards him amusing and silly. But you wouldn’t retaliate. That was what he wanted. Instead, you walked right past him and continued on your way.

Peter felt as if you had dug out his heart and jumped on it. Twice. His confident stance faltered as he watched your back. You were acting so… different. But then again, it was unnervingly familiar. Only, the last time you had acted so demeaned by his presence was almost a hundred winters ago. When his shadow first brought you to Neverland, and you were still jumpy and untrusting from your past life. Why were you suddenly reverting back to your old self?

When you began to fade into the forest, he chased after you. Peter followed you for a while, calling your name and demanding you talk to him.

You didn’t answer his questions, completely disregarding his presence. You wished he would just leave you alone. After everything you had learnt, all the secrets that had been laid before you, you needed to be alone. You needed time to think. And you especially needed Peter to go away. But no, Peter Pan never fails, and he was more than ready to win this game. Only it wasn’t a game, and if he wanted it to be, you weren’t intending to play.

Annoyance clouded Peter’s mind, and he tried so hard not to let you anger him. So hard. But it wasn’t getting any easier.

“(Y/n), come on!” He tried, throwing up his arm and following you deep into the forest. “Where are you even going?” Luckily for the both of you, he was Peter Pan, not some Lost Boy. Because if he wasn’t literally half demon, neither of you would be able to get back.

You really didn’t know where you were going. But all that mattered right then was the distance between you and the boy who’d broken your trust. Although, deep down, you were grateful he had followed you. Otherwise, you would be completely lost.

You didn’t know how to forgive him, and by the sound of it, Peter hadn’t even realised what he’d done. You chuckled. What a narcissist. Of course, he hadn’t thought it would offend you. But you couldn’t approach him about it, or anyone, really. What a girlish thing it was, to be so hurt by such a thing. Secrets like this one were more damaging than any poison or sword. But how could he have known? This was a grown-up sort of thing, and Peter was still only a child.

“(Y/n)!” He shouted again, and you jumped, having forgotten he was even there. “I can literally feel the rage in my blood.” He threatened, but you were unfazed. Nothing could hurt more than—

“Please, don’t make me force you!” His voice cracked a little on the please. Your heart clenched. He was trying to hide his desperation, but you could sense it. You wanted so much to just turn around, hug him, tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But that would be a lie. Because it was his fault. It was entirely his fault. He should have shared all those damned thoughts with you. If only he’d opened his stupid mouth, confessed, revealed everything. Instead, he’d left you to stumble blindly in the dark. But the idiot forgot to take the oil away from the lamp, and now that you’d shed some light on your life, things would never be the same. And it was this senselessness that kept you away from him. Like two magnets of the same pole—it was all Peter’s doing.

But the most disturbing truth? Your very soul threatened to shatter at the very thought. How could he have kept such a thing from you? How could he have been so careless? You tripped on a few sticks and roots as your blood threatened to boil over with rage. Had he even spared your feelings a thought? You shook your head and quickened your pace.

Peter watched you stumble along, your hands clenching and unclenching like you didn’t want him to know they were shaking. He was near you, now, and he reached out for you again. Wanting so badly to touch you again, even for a second. But then you took longer strides, taking him off guard, and his fingers missed you completely. He growled in frustration. He’d had enough.

“Fine.” His tone darkened. Chills ran down your spine, you skin crawling with goosebumps. He had never spoken to you like that before, and it scared you to no end. “But don’t say I didn’t give you a chance!” With that, he appeared right before you, and you collided with his chest. You leapt back almost immediately, like fire to your skin. Meeting his eyes for a second, you found a hint of pain behind them. But it was replaced with frustration before you could blink.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He was so lost. So hurt. You wouldn’t even look him in the eye long enough for him to see the (e/c) in them. That beautiful (e/c) he would so often lose himself in.

Quickly, he reached for your shoulders. His hands rested there, his grip gentle but firm, not wanting you to leave him behind, again. You still didn’t speak. He missed your voice, your laugh, you eyes, your smile. It had probably been an hour, but that was already too long. He clenched his jaw.

“(Y/n), this isn’t a game. Talk to me.” As much as he didn’t want to, he was losing his patience. He spoke through gritted teeth, his hold on you tightening, his eyes set in a nasty glare. His hands were harsh on your skin, and your eyes glistened with an unholy fire. You didn’t move.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Breathing through his nose, veins popping out of his neck, he shook you. Hard. Your hair fell over your face, and your cloak would’ve fallen off if Peter wasn’t holding it there. Tears stung at your eyes as your body was thrown around, your shoulders aching.

“TALK TO ME!!” He screamed, fuming. You nearly broke down at his anger. He stopped, but you didn’t do anything. He had hoped you would yell, scream, cry, shove him off, kick him, slap him, run away, anything! You just shivered a little under his hands, but other than that, you held yourself together. His eyes reddened, almost like he might cry, himself. “Why won’t you just look at me, at LEAST?!” A part of him was begging, but the rest of him was infuriated.

In spite of yourself, you looked up at him. Your eyes were probably swollen, your skin whiter than usual, but you hardly cared. You glared at him so hard you might’ve set him aflame.

“Well then, Pan.” You croaked, a single, hot tear falling from your eye. “I’m looking at you. I’m talking to you. I’m even bloody crying. You’ve won. Now get the hell away from me.”

He stepped back, not meaning to look cocky. He was shocked. He had won, but that wasn’t important. The look on your face was important. That angry tear was important.

“I-I—” he stuttered. What could he do? You were obviously upset with him. But why? What had he done? For a short second, he thought hard about everything he could’ve done wrong.

Nothing came to mind.

“What did I do?” It was an innocent question, but when he finished, you were so pale he feared for your life. It came out so wrong. So demeaning. Ridiculing. It sounded exactly like him, and for once, he really didn’t mean for it to sound like that. 

Your usually bright and (e/c) eyes darkened a few shades. He winced.

This was not going to end well.

“What did you do?” You laughed. It wasn’t joyous and contagious like the one he obsessed over. It was maniacal, nearly psychotic. Like his laugh. “Oh, I wonder!”

“(Y/n), please—”

“Oh, no! You don’t get to speak. It’s my turn.” You spat, waving a hand in his face. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Peter was completely taken aback. Fear placed his confusion and he worried for his own sake. So much was happening, now. Who knew what you had discovered?

He had wanted to keep his plans to himself. Everything he was doing, everything he planned to accomplish, he knew you wouldn’t approve. Even to save your own life, his life, everyone’s lives, the whole of Neverland. You would insist on finding a better way until your final breath.

“Kidnapping people? Using some girl? Taking a kid from his family and keeping him against his will?” The colour was quickly returning to your face, but even when you tanned to your normal colour, you continued to redden with every breath. He tried to get a word in, tried to explain himself. But it was no use.

“I can’t believe you, Pan!” He winced again, that familiar pain building up in his chest once more. “What happened to you? Why are you doing this? You used to be fun. You used to really care about everyone.” Your face was wet with tears, tears that wouldn’t stop, and Peter wanted nothing more than to hold you.

He remembered those days. The days where he and the Lost would just play around and joke and tease. When nothing mattered but you and him and Neverland.

But then, he remembered the day he returned to Skull Rock. The day he was reminded of his incoming doom. He knew what was coming. He knew it had to be done.

“(Y/n), please listen to me.” He started, but you weren’t finished.

“But you wanna know why I’m upset?” Peter didn’t say anything, he didn’t even nod. You were suddenly calm, and it scared him more than your angered screams.

“You told Felix you were—” A broken sob hacked at your throat, and you collapsed into Peter’s chest. Pride be damned, you were sick of this. Sick of being angry and scared and alone. You needed Peter, and when he wrapped his arms around you, that was it. You were finished. Your eyes red. Yours cheeks soaked. Your hands shaking. Your hair in more of a mess than usual. Your lips quivering. And just like that, you broke down.

Peter pulled you closer, just holding you. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. You knew everything, and there was no way to assure you that everything would be okay. Because he didn’t know that. And as he held you to his chest, he let out a few tears himself. In minutes you were both huddled together on the ground, dirt and leaves sticking to your clothes. You clung to one another as you cried, his hands stroking your hair while you clutched onto his shirt.

Peter shushed and soothed you, stroking your hair as cries escaped his lips.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” he croaked out between sobs. You just nodded, clutching onto his tunic and gasping out that it didn’t matter. Peter kept apologising anyway, his hair tousled, his face puffy and stained with tears that you feared would never stop.

You sat like that for a long time, your sobs filling one another’s ears and more water leaked from your eyes than you knew you had in you. Because nothing was okay, and as you sat in the dim and cold light of the sun—lost in the middle of the Neverland woods—neither of you knew if it would ever be okay again.

#peter pan #peterpan #peter pan x reader #peter pan imagine #neverland #x reader #xreader #reader #reader imagine #imagine #still can't believe it #still can't accept that #peter pan is gone forever

[thewingedwolf]

Ok in the universe where Milah is Hook and Killian is a ghost, I imagine goes The Outsider, In the Name of the Brother, and Manhattan go like this:

Milah tricks Belle into the elevator, then sends her loyal quartermaster Ariel to ransack Gold's shop. She steals the blanket along with a few books on portal hopping and true love magic and gets them to Milah. Rumples catches up with her and turns her into a bug or something and contemplates stepping on her, but Belle's words about being a good man ring in his ears, so he just picks her up and puts her in a box and drops her off at the police station, probably with a note that says "oops sorry for the paperwork headache emma lol bye" and a potion to turn her back.

Belle goes off and winds up on the Jolly Roger, where Milah had informed Killian that Ariel was missing and she's worried so she's run off. The worry makes it easier for Killian to focus, gives him something to fixate on, so when Belle shows up, he's completely corporeal.

This is the first time the audience has seen him since his and Milah's intro episode.

Belle demands to know who he is, but he's p mum on details. "SHould have burned this when we had the chance" and when Belle asks why, he smiles just a little and says "it belonged to the boy." He attempts to lock her up or subdue her but Belle's quicker than he is. Still, he doesn't point the gun at her or get in her face until Belle accuses him of helping a cowardly woman who abandoned her family. It's only *then* that he gets angry and spits out "tell me - if a woman comes to you and sobs about her life, is it helping her run away or helping her find freedom?"

And Belle puts the pieces together during the conversation - that Milah left bc she was unhappy, bc she had found True Love in Killian, and that they stole not just the blanket but also the books bc Milah is trying to find Baelfire, but is unsure of where to start and on top of that, probably has no idea how she brought Killian's soul back. There's a brief struggle and Belle gets away, with Killian just sort of phasing thru walls to keep up. She gets up top and is a) horrified of what Killian is doing bc wtf kind of magic is that and b) runs practically right into Milah.

Rumples shows up and there's a fight between Milah and him, and lots of yelling back and forth (and lots of projecting their own issues on each other, bc hey, that's what these two freaks like to do). Belle jumps in and knocks Milah's feet out from under her, and Killian causes the ropes to bind Belle up and keep her away from Milah. Belle pleads with Rumples for him to not kill Milah and Milah spits out "Go on kill me, kill me like you did my Killian. Then we shall finally be free of this world." Killian on the other hand, who is not suicidal, whispers in Belle's ear that Baelfire will never forgive Rumples killing Bar's mother, no matter what she may have done in the past. He let's Belle go and she runs to Rumples and echoes Killian's words. Rumples walks away with Belle, while Milah lays there, despondent, and Killian sits beside her, flickering in and out of vision.

Belle confronts Rumples about how he neglected to tell her that Milah was unhappy and that he killed her lover and took her hand. He says it doesn't matter bc she abandoned Bae. Belle tentatively points out he *also* abandoned Bae and Rumples turns around angry before sighing and conceding the point. Belle also says she's p sure Milah is planning on finding Baelfire, which surprises Rum - he had assumed she was lying when she said she missed Bae and wanted to come back for him. Belle makes him promise to stop withholding important shit like this to spare her feelings and its here he confides that he hadn't gone to the ship meaning to murder Killian. But he was angry at himself and angry at Milah and while even the dark one curse couldn't take over so completely that he'd murder his ex wife, he took it out on Killian instead and he does regret that a little bit - how much is...............vague bc he's still evolving here but Belle thanks him for his honesty.

They leave to go to the town line. It goes the same way BUT - Milah doesn't try to shoot Belle, she tries to shoot Rumples. Belle hears the gun click and pushes Rumples out of the way, and staggers back from the hit across the line. There's a moment of horror on Milah's face but she tries to salvage the moment as a victory. The car comes, she gets hit and Rumples gets clipped, but he heals the bullet wound on her.

She recognizes him though, not as Rumples but as Mr. Gold bc - she turned into Lacey, who has cursed memories of a relationship that ended badly with Gold.

Rumples makes to go fireball Milah while she's screaming about how she'll get him too, she'll kill him and save Killian and find Bae and turn him against the mere memory of Rumples all on her own, before Emma has her taken out on a stretcher.

Emma attempts to get information out of a now human Ariel, who refuses to give any sort of information that would betray her captain and first mate. She takes Rumples to the Jolly Roger and they search it for clues on Cora, clues on what they're planning. Killian is there, unfocused and lurking. They find the books - There's a look of contemplation on Rumples' face when he sees the one about portal hopping, and a look of confusion when he sees the one about true love magic. They find two self help books hidden in Ariel's things - one is that 5 love languages book and the other is like weirdly specific like "How to move on from grief and reach out to the children you may have abandoned on the way." The convo goes like this:

Killian: *snorting* the day Milah follows good advice is the day I come back to life for real and Rumples here how to not be a self serving cowardly dick.

Emma: Ghosts on house arrest don't get to make snarky comments.

Killian: On what arrest??

Rum: Yeah! Shut it Killian!

Emma: You are on thin fucking ice too Gold, you can watch your mouth as well.

Killian: What was that about my house being arrested????? Don't touch my ship Swan!!!!!!!!

They can't find anything too big, except for what looks like one of those doohickies for potion making that has recently been used. They leave and Killian stands at the edge of the boat - Rumples makes a comment about how Killian can't leave bc whatever dark magic Milah used to bring his soul back seems to have tied him to the ship. Emma has two dwarves posted outside to watch for Cora or any other pirates.

The confrontation in Manhattan between Milah and Rumples goes essentially the same except for two key differences:

Neal makes it a point to not hurt Milah too badly when he pulls her off Rumples. He's conflicted about leaving her, makes it a point to carry her upstairs to his apartment and lay her on his bed - tho he does tie her to it and also probably does the disney version of like flipping her off when they leave.

As they're sailing away, Rumples looks at the horizon and sees a figure on the docks. He leads forward and focuses and sees it's Killian - standing on the shore, flickering in and out, but obviously there. He's got his sword on his hip again and Rumples punches the deck and makes the connection - Milah replicated his magic for the blanket and put it on Killian's sword.

#milah jones #milah #milah deserved better #millian #rani's great ouat rewrite #rani attempts to be creative #c: i set my mind to wandering and i walk a broken line #killian jones #rumples #belle french #i wanted to givr milah more victories than killian gets bc he is really unamusing and ineffective as a villain #so i thought having her steal his research and adapt it to help killian would help that #also - PIRATE ARIEL #shes played by america ferrera

[dralf0yy]

Wedding Bells || 2 || F.W x Reader

A/N: I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO GET THIS UP BUT ITS FINALLY HERE AAAA!! If i’m being honest, I’m not a big fan of the way I ended this bc it felt rlly unfinished but I felt the need to get it up as soon as I could. I hope you guys enjoy and sorry for the long ass wait 🥺

Word count: 1.6K (aaa she’s a bit sh0rt)

Part 1

Fred landed at the beach just outside his aunt’s old cottage.

The place he proposed to you

The weather was unironically cloudy and cold—identical to the way he felt.

Chills ran up Fred’s spine as he wandered around the beach, taking in the beautiful, calming scene around him. It reminded him of you. More specifically the way you were always remarkably gorgeous without effort, even in your darkest moments, and the way you soothed him with your embrace and kind, loving words.

It made Fred hate himself for abandoning you. You were fragile and even the smallest inconveniences would chip away parts of you that made you happy and whole. Everyone,especially Fred, knew this. He knew that you had cracked when the war broke out and he almost died. And he knew that this time, you had completely shattered, and it was all his fault.

He made his way up the sandy hills, marching through some of the long grass that had sprouted up and halted when he had reached the top. His eyes fluttered closed as he inhaled the salty scent of the ocean, thinking of the day he proposed

One year ago

“Fred where are you taking me?” You giggled as you trailed behind Fred with your hand intertwined with his.

The two of you, and George, had been helping Bill and Fleur fix up their aunt’s old cottage. It had been a long, hard day of redecorating and repainting and the sun was almost completely set

“You’ll see soon enough my love. We’re almost there.. Okay now close your eyes and wait here for a few seconds”

You nodded in response and heard Fred’s soft footsteps shuffling around in the sand. You shifted your weight back and forth between your left and right foot and giggled when you heard your boyfriend curse at the sand under his breath

After a few more seconds of shuffling, you heard Fred whisper

“You can open your eyes now, love”

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you expected to see his face inches from yours but much to your surprise, he was on one knee clutching a small, black velvet box that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand with a heart shape dug into the sand surrounding the two of you. Fred steadied himself and gazed up into your eyes

“Y/n, these past 6 years with you have been unbelievably amazing. You have shown me what love and true happiness feels like and I will be forever grateful for that. There is no one else I would rather have by my side for the rest of my life, besides George of course,” He joked as a tear cascaded down your cheek

“no one else that I would rather give my love to, wake up next to every morning, have lots of little Weasleys with, and no one else that I would rather marry than you. And the war last year made me realise that I didn’t wanna wait any longer for this. So, Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n.. Will you marry me?”

Tears of joy were now uncontrollably streaming down both your cheeks as you chuckled and silently—but enthusiastically— nodded your head

“Yes! A million times yes!” You exclaimed and pulled Fred up, bringing your hands around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss that was so full of love and passion that it made his head spin

Present

Fred let out a loud, broken sob and collapsed onto his knees remembering the memory that had once made him so ecstatic. He stayed there with his face buried in his hands for what seemed like hours while mumbling ‘I’m so sorry’ repeatedly to the empty space in front of him

Fred lifted his head back up and the sun was barely visible on the horizon.The sky had slightly cleared in the few hours that he had been there and it became a flurry of yellow, orange, purple and pink streaks.

It was a beautiful image. It was one that you wished you could share with your dearest loved ones when things were bad. It gave Fred the a sense of calmness that he needed to clear his head

“I’m gonna make this right” He stated and disapparated back to the Burrow

***

“Here Y/n/n, have some cake, love” George offered to you. A grateful grin appeared on your face as you took the small, fragile plate with a slice of cake on it from him carefully and snuggled into his side. You sighed tiredly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders

“Something on your mind?”

“Well.. I’m just worried Georgie. What if he’s done something reckless and got hurt or can’t get back to us—?”

“Don’t worry, love I’m right here” Both your heads turned towards the front door, and there, stood the one and only, Fred Weasley

You immediately sprung off the couch and out of George’s embrace, dropping the plate of cake in the process, and ran towards Fred. You jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“Oh my Godric! You’re okay” You squeaked and hugged him tighter. He let out a quiet chuckle and gave you a kiss on the top of your head before setting you back down on the ground. He looked at you with a faint smile on his face, looking as if he was trying not to break again

He didn’t manage to keep the facade up for very long. He pulled you into his chest and burst into tears. Through his fit of sobs, you could hear him choke out an apology

“Shh it’s okay, Fred. We don’t have to talk about this right now..” You cooed soothingly—but slightly muffled— into his chest. You pulled away to look up at his face

“How about you head up for tonight? We can talk in the morning” Fred nodded and started to trail off towards the stairs with your hand wrapped inside his but stopped when he realised you weren’t moving

“A- Are you not coming up with me?” he hiccuped. You opened your mouth to answer but George beat you to it

“Actually Y/n, I think you better head off to bed. I need to talk to Fred”

Too tired to protest, you muttered an ‘okay’ and tread up the creaky stairs of the Burrow leaving the twins alone to talk.

Fred awkwardly stood in the room and rocked back and forth on his feet looking anywhere but at George who was patiently waiting for you to be out of earshot

“I’ll get straight to the point,” He snapped, “I hope you’ve acknowledged that you messed up, Fred. Y/n spent the last 5 hours crying and worrying about you, wondering what she could’ve done wrong for you to walk out on her like that—”

“She didn’t—”

“I KNOW SHE DIDN’T,” George sighed in frustration, “I’ve tried to mend her as much as I could, but the rest is up to you. She’s like a sister to me and I don’t wanna lose her because of something stupid that you did to hurt her. Now go up there and make it up to her and don’t ever take an amazing person like her for granted— because we both know that Y/n won’t give you a 3rd chance”

Fred nodded and trailed up the stairs towards his childhood bedroom, not knowing how to respond as it was a little unusual to see George so serious and worked up about something.

Fred quietly pushed the door open, expecting you to be asleep and not wanting to wake you. He stepped in and felt his heart ache at the sight of you curled up in George’s bed with tears streaming down your face, with muffled hiccups coming from you and clutching onto one of Fred’s christmas sweaters, staring at the floor

You peered up towards the doorway where Fred was standing. Your teary gaze shifted back to the floor next to a small mound of clothing. Your hushed hiccups ceased and the room was filled with deafening silence

Fred’s shoes came into your line of sight and his hand made contact with your shoulder.

“D’you wanna move over to my bed, love?” He whispered gently. You lazily nodded your head and sat up. You made your way over to Fred’s bed and hesitantly lied down on the edge of the mattress. A deep sigh left Fred’s lips as mattress dipped next to you

You unhurriedly shifted around and stared into Fred’s cinnamon coloured eyes with your own Y/e/c orbs. You noticed that they were bloodshot and slightly puffy, but nevertheless, they were still as enchanting as always.

You cast your gaze down towards the pillow, taking a deep and shaky breath. “Be honest,” You said in a voice that was barely a whisper, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Fred exclaimed suddenly, making you jump, “Sorry I- No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just—I was being a git and I was just doubting everything, you know? I was.. I was anxious that you didn’t really wanna marry me or that I wasn’t actually ready” he said in a quieter voice.

You nodded and sighed, succumbing to the warmth of Fred’s chest and absorbed what he just confessed.

You decided to leave a lot of things unsaid. Knowing that he was willing to come back and make things right again was enough for you to give him another chance—though you knew you would no matter what he had done anyway.

The familiar sound of Fred’s heartbeat reminded you that he was there, and there for good, along with the feeling of his arms tightening around your frame and your entangling legs. Things were at a fair balance once again, and the two of you couldn’t be more content with your journey of love

***

Main Taglist: @paigeyisme @slytherinlovesgryffindor @cleopatera @accio-rogers @beacosta27 @anyasthoughts

Wedding Bells Taglist: @wand3ringr0s3 @angel-of-blue @stuckindilemma @angstywhore @imdixonsangel @girl22334 @gredandforges @dorothyofcosta @drvcopotter

Fred & George Taglist: @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou

#wedding bells #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #george weasley #hermione granger #hogwarts #draco malfoy x reader #george weasley x reader #albus dumbledore #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfiction #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #james phelps x reader #oliver phelps x reader #tom felton #james phelps #oliver phelps #tom felton x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #masterlist #dralf0yy

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

@ava-sr said: EE i do apologize that this is late, but maybe a small request because of my moblit-brainrot. which dates he would like to take you on? maybe like one of those guided painting classes? aGh all i know is that man is the absolute sweetest and i love him with all my heart

Types of dates with Moblit pt.1

{ Moblit x reader | tw:none | fluff | modern }

{ "Vanitas Still Life" 1662 by Edwaert Collier c. 1640 - after 1707 London or Leiden }

Ideal dates : these are dates he plans up ahead, makes sure they go smoothly and you're both are having fun. He really looks forward to these dates, they're like an event for him. He saves them up for important occasions like your anniversary, valentine's day, birthday.

I. Cuddling for hours at a time

you have to understand that in Moblit's overworked and stressful life, moments of respite are rare and far. He's so deprived of touch and love that it's a miracle how he has managed to function without even a beep. The thought of having someone to warm his bed, cradle his worries and put them to rest by simply combing through his hair, never crossed his mind despite having a hundred thoughts running through it per minute.

Some days he manages to forget your existence even, not out of some selfish desire or to belittle you, but out of disbelief, after all it's too good to be true.

You're too good to be true to him.

Your tender words pull him back each time he blindly steps closer to the edge, a never-ending spiral of self-destructive work tendencies awaiting him at the bottomless abyss. Your warm embrace shutting out the swarm of nagging voices meant to guilt him out of rest, to act as if the key to curing his sleep deprivation was to not acknowledge its existence, that fatigue symptoms could be erased by his own homemade placebo remedies.

As if your mere touch could turn anything to gold, and in his case, it did. 

It was what made the difference between an anxiety inducing catastrophic day, and a mere rough stepping stone he could easily manoeuvre around leaving his pace steady and undisturbed.

Reminding that it's okay to fail, to give something your best only for it to crumble to dust. It's a process of trial and error, it takes time and patience.

You don't get to choose how well things end up working out, it's not up to you nor is it your place.

And that's why for him, his ideal place in the world is in your arms, to simply let the rise and fall of your chest lull him into comfortable numbness. His features softening as the oxytocin levels rise, courtesy of your warm embrace, soft skin providing just the right pressure against his own.

Laying on your shared bed together, the soft breeze coming from the open windows moves the thin curtains. Moblit is Holding you close as one of his arms sneak around you, fingertips tracing shapes up and down your back. Face buried in your shoulder as yours rests on top of his head, stray hairs almost tickling your nose when you brush against them.

The passing of time does little to his cotton filled mind, occasionally attempting to pull you even more closer as if it's possible. Legs tangled with yours under the heavy blanket despite him hogging most of it.

Every now and then, when a certain amount of time passes, he'd look at you with half-closed eyes, a lidded look of satisfaction before murmuring in his sleepy voice.

"Do you want to get up?" And despite his sincere words and warm tone, his body makes no move to detach itself from your side.

Does he know the soothing effect of the circles he keeps drawing up your back? Or how much him talking with his lips still pressed against your neck makes you melt just a bit.

Whatever it is, Moblit seems confident in his ability to keep you snuggled against him, tucked underneath the warm blanket and fluffy pillows almost muffling your answer.

II. Visiting a music bar

Preferably something with soft yellowish lights, small enough spaces not meant for dancing but to create an intimate atmosphere akin to a music venue.

A jazz club, maybe a brewery.

Dimmed sunlight seeping through the thin curtained window, shadow traces of people smoking outside while making small talk, cushioned bar stools placed around the long bar with a mirrored wall behind it as several aged bottles and fancy glasses with signatures decorate the wooden shelves.

The quiet chatter of people blurring behind the mellow music the band is playing on the nearby stage, smooth movement with relaxed postures as if they've done this a hundred times before, and they probably have.

You're sitting in one of the booths near the window, a private spot where you're far enough for people not to notice yet close enough to still hear the music flowing.

The beat is slow, hypnotising even that the minutes blur together. 

Moblit giving you a smile as he comes back with your drinks, sitting opposite of you before handing you the cold glass, ice cubes clinking against each other as you raise the frosted rim to your lips, sugary sweet filling your senses, the cooling sensation of the drink slides down your throat.

There's a hint of citrus in it.

You've learned to trust Moblit's choice in drinks after being together for so long, he just knows what's going to taste good and which kind of drink you seem to need without having to say a word.

He seems comfortable here, even referring to the bartender by his name like they've been friends for a while, and maybe they have judging by the out-of-script welcoming he gave Moblit.

One conversation starts another and both of you find it so easy to talk to each other without boundaries or second thoughts, the smiles and occasional chuckles almost never leaving your features while nursing on your drinks.

He tells you stories from his work and about his co-workers. You find yourself entranced by his seemingly abusered line of work and the amount of chuckle worthy instances a single work day can offer.

That one time Hange knocked the liquid incense oils that someone Levi brought to freshen the place, well to their luck the oils fell directly on an open flame from the nearby scented candle which resulted in the fire spreading through the liquid alcohol between the broken glass.

And despite the feeling of dread, from seeing his files catch on fire this story brings him, the sound of your chocked laughter as you almost spilled your drink over your clothes, made it all worth it for him.

III. Antique shop

There was something to be said about Moblit's yearning for especially old looking things, trinkets, crumpled maps, tea stained letters and silvered mirrors.

You can't miss the gleam in his eyes as he opens the antique store door open for you the chime of the door bells following after. The smell of burning incense lingering in the air alongside the slow ticking of an old wooden clock.

The look on his face is of pure fascination, his eyes following the trail of the objects lined on the tables, from the old oil paintings with hand carved frames to the crystals reflecting sunlight next to the colourful stones. Observing as he carefully walks behind you through the narrow spaces between the tables and shelves. 

Pulling your attention whenever he finds a particular curious thing to show you as if it's an offering, it can range from music boxes with a really familiar melody that you can't quite remember or a beautifully shaped rose quartz stone that feels cool against your palm.

Whatever he brings, it often manages to intrigue you in some way. Moblit could always notice things other people would skip over otherwise, scanning the tables was like a small treasure hunt.

He'd always pick one or two leather journals, almost filled to the brim with ink scribbled pages and tea stained spots, personal diaries dating back to the 90's and if he's lucky they might edge towards the 80'. He likes to read them, live in someone else's shoes even for a split second, puzzle pieces falling in place as he figures out what kind of person the author was.

Of course sharing his discoveries with you while having lunch later, not out of pride nor to show off, but out of genuine respect to other people's lives and their dedication for leaving behind a piece of their soul.

IX. Roadtrip 

It's something he plans months ahead in advance, he genuinely wants to make the best out of the few weeks off both of you got to spend together. Making sure to plan a set of destinations, preparing snacks and food, packing your essentials and renting a big enough van.

A small getaway even, to completely leave everything behind and set out on a carefully planned adventure with the one he loves most, you.

Enjoying the fresh weather, the high sun and fast wind as both of you roll down the windows, fields of green and yellow meet you alongside the road the further away you move from the city.

Although be careful; the Moblit behind the wheel is a much much more different than the one you know, he's using all what remains of his self-restraint not to speed down the highway and swirl, the thought crosses his mind every hour or so and he's visibly agitated when you're forced to drive behind a particularly slow driver.

You might even have to remind him of the speed limit occasionally just so you don't end up with a pile of speeding tickets at the end of the trip.

It's like all his usually cautious and calculating demner evaporates into mist the second he touches the steering wheel, Temptations of just flooring it while high on adrenaline still linger in the back of his mind.

Beside that, the trip is a relatively calm one as you get to bask in all the new and different places you'll get to visit. Try new food and walk through different city streets, just the experience of something out of the usual is enough to satisfy Mobilt. Not to mention the fact he gets to experience it with you and just wander around without a purpose or care as long as you're together.

He'll definitely keep in mind what sort of things you seem to like, what intrigues you and the kind of reactions you show. He even started an album filled with mostly your pictures and the things you've seen.

It's most relaxing and filled with low stakes, nothing too fancy but nothing too boring either. Walking the thin line perfectly.

X. Visiting a museum

But not just any museum you see, one centred around natural history. Displaying everything from ancient fossils to full on skeleton displays of a 122 foot titanosaur, depictions of distant relatives of homosapiens and modern evolution trees of the current animals.

Moblit guiding you through the shiny tile floor and between the exhibits while holding your hand, eyes gleaming with passion as he goes on and on about each thing you glance at. Making all the trivial facts seem more fascinating than they have any right to be.

The squeaking sound of footsteps echoing on the too clean floors as four children pass you by, racing each other towards the iron suits of armour on display. They almost fall over the red ropes from leaning too close in, their caregiver seemingly busy talking with a security guard over the 'smoking not allowed' sign. 

You spare them a final glance before following Moblit through the corridor leading to the world history & old inventions section. Soon enough he steals your attention again as he begins talking about the first airplane prototype that you can't help but be enamoured by.

Despite there being a sign framed on the wall that sums up the jest of Moblit's lecture, he manages to make it not only less boring but add his own twist and uncommon known facts to it that it feels less of a history trip and of an interesting conversation.

He has so much knowledge that he's so eager not to only share but hear your own opinion and take on it, valuing your view no matter what amount of knowledge you have over the subject.

XI. Painting together

It's an idea that you offhandedly suggested after your museum visit, after all spending an hour in the Impressionism era gallery did leave an impression on you. And so the suggestion of checking out an art store for some acrylics and a couple brushes left your lips on the way home without a second thought.

Well little did you know that the small suggestion managed to latch into Moblit's brain for weeks after, making him spend his free time searching and gaining information on painting and how to start, he even managed to find some really good classes having a limited time course sale

That's how both of you end up in a guided painting class, seated next to each other with aprons on and a pallet to mix paint tubes in. You'll find out how much of a fast learner Moblit is, so much that most of the class he spends guiding your hand through the steps and offering his help whenever possible, although he still remembers not to be overbearing and still gives you space.

Both of you are in your own bubble from the class, being with him makes you feel easy and more reassured. He's like your very own comfort corner that you seek in every party, except that he can walk around with you and always looks out for you.

And whatever you end up putting on that canvas, Moblit will cherish more than any renaissance painting, will even insist on hanging it somewhere in the apartment.

#ava🕯️ #Moblit🕯️ #fluff🕯️ #aot🕯️ #moblit x reader #moblit x you #snk moblit #aot moblit #moblit berner #moblit berner x reader #fluff #aot fluff #moblit fluff #types of dates #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #snk x reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #attack on titan #aot modern au #modern aot🕯

[aadi-kted]

Burn🔥🔥

A/N - Hey guyss!!!! AAHHHH!! I just finished watching Hamilton and I fell in love with it!!! I loved everything about the musical and I am soo glad I got the opportunity to watch it!! I  loved Phillipa Soo in it and I adored watching her sing Burn. When I heard it I just knew that I had to write a fic on it! I have never written angst before but I am vey glad with how my my story turned out. People who haven’t seen the musical or heard the song can also definitely read this!!

W/C - 1,955...Whew!! My longest fic yet!!

Warnings! ⚠️- Fluff and sooo much angst!

~~~

Memories. Those damned memories. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t get his memories out of your mind. They were swirling in your head; you were forever being taunted by images of what had been. His hand in yours, as you both walked down the Rockaway beach, smiles on your faces as you talked about nothing and everything.  You could still remember the way his curls bounced with the breeze, the auburn streaks highlighted by the setting sun. He had been constantly moving a pesky curl which wouldn’t stay in its place. You couldn’t help but laugh at his irritated expression and with a loving sigh, you had run your hands between strands of his hair. His eyes had lit up with joy and affection and you could feel a smile creeping on your face. Whenever you were with Peter or even thought about him, you would feel an insurmountable amount of love and happiness. But now, just his name was enough to make your blood boil. Instead of smiling every time someone mentioned him, a frown would be etched on your face. You couldn’t bear to think about him, not without wanting to cry. The time you had with Peter had been magical, but now you were left behind, broken-hearted and miserable. You had first started dating in sophomore year of high school. Most people say that high school relationships never last and that you guys would be over before you finished high school, but it would be well into sophomore year of college before you guys would be over.

You could still remember the early days of your relationship, the golden days. You had had partners before, but none had been like Peter. Peter was affectionate and kind and so, so sweet. Unfortunately, he used to get flustered around you and instead of being able to say things to your face, he would write you letters. He used to slip them in your locker, slide them in your desk or give it to you when he would walk you back to your house. Some people might have found it weird, but you found charming. Being a romantic at heart, this was your dream come true. Even though Peter later started being more comfortable around you he still gave you letters from time to time. You cherished every single one of them and kept them safe and secured in your drawer. Every couple had something special to them, and this was your something special. He wrote you letters and you used to bake for him. Peter loved your baking. He said that your cupcakes and cakes were heavenly. In fact, he used to joke that you would just leave the ingredients out and angels would come into your kitchen and bake the sweets. Just reminiscing about those days were enough to put a smile on your face. But, now you didn’t feel like baking, you couldn’t bear to look at the letters. It hurt too much. Peter still wrote you letters, you just didn’t want to open them. You were too scared to find out what he had written, too scared to know why he had cheated on you.

Anyone who knew Peter would say that they could never even imagine Peter doing something like that. Until a month ago, you would have said the same thing. But now, here you both were. You had gone from being that couple in love to practical strangers with broken hearts. You, at least, had a broken heart. You doubted Peter even had a heart. You weren’t even sure you knew who Peter was now. He had first been your cute boyfriend, then he became your cute (secret) superhero boyfriend, he then became your amazing, valedictorian, college boyfriend and now he was this horrible person who didn’t even have the decency to break up with his girlfriend before going off to kiss other girls. This was not the guy you knew.  This was not the guy you had dated. This was not the sweet guy who had written all those letters to you. When you had read those letters, you had known Peter was the one. He was yours. You thought he was yours. You should have known. When you had told MJ, your best friend, that you were dating Peter Parker, you hadn’t realized that your expression was conveying more deeply about your feelings for him to her than your words. She knew you were in trouble. She didn’t have anything against Peter, but MJ was a great judge of character and she had known Peter for a long time. She had warned you, she said it would be too much for you one day. But his sweet words had flooded your senses, whenever you were with him, you felt like you were on top of the world. But now you wished you were buried underneath it. You didn’t want to face anyone, your friends, your families and least of all, him. You were cooped up in your room, trying to forget everything. Trying to forget how happy you had been that day. How excited you were to see him again, after months of being apart in different colleges. You had loved every video call with him, but you missed his touch and were craving for it. So, you had decided to surprise him. You had the week off and instead of spending it with your family, you had gone straight to Peter. You were jittery with excitement, you had been imagining the kind of reactions he might have had, but for the life of you, you could have never imagined that you would walk into that room just to see your boyfriend, sitting half naked on his bed, with an equally naked girl on his lap, snogging the lights out of him. For a moment time stood still. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, but the proof was right in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet. You couldn’t think of how to react. You were frozen. But, just like that, the spell broke, you released a gasp and the two people were startled out of their kissing. Peter’s eyes went wide as he took you in.

 “Y/ N – Y/N/N!” He stammered

The reality still hadn’t set in for you. You were getting hysterical and couldn’t stop your reply, “And here I thought I was going to surprise you.”

You could see the confusion on Peter’s face. “Pl-please! Just-just let me explain!”

You cut him off before he could give any excuse. You just wanted to know one thing.

“How long?”

You could see the answer in his expression, but you were still unprepared for it when he said it out loud.

“3 months”

That was the moment when you felt your heart break. The moment where you lost control of your emotions. Tears filled your eyes, begging to be released. You couldn’t keep standing there. You turned around to escape with what little of your dignity was left. You could hear Peter calling you from behind, shouting your name, begging you to stop. But you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. There was no possible explanation he could give that would make you forgive him. You didn’t want to forgive him.

So now, here you were, pathetically hiding in your room from everyone. MJ had been calling you continuously. She was the only one you had told what happened. You couldn’t bear seeing the pity in her eyes. Or in anyone else’s eyes for that matter. The letters he had sent you over the years lay scattered about in your room. You couldn’t bear it anymore. You took the first letter he ever wrote you and read it. You read it like you were a person wandering the deserts for months and had only now come upon water. You consumed every letter he had written you. Your eyes scanning every line in ever paragraph. You tried read the lines for a sign, any sign for the boy that had been yours, from when he had been yours.  The letters conveyed every one of the emotions and love he used to feel for you. Each affectionate line felt like a dagger to your heart. Every paragraph pierced your soul. You read letter after letter, and then finally you reached the ones he sent you this week, after you found out about his infidelity. With trembling hands, you forced yourself to pick them up. The swishing of the pages as you opened them felt like a daunting warning to not read them. As you read, you wished that you had heeded the warning. He had said that he was sorry. He hadn’t known what to do. He had been having a tough time, juggling college work and his duties as a superhero. He felt overwhelmed and he had needed your comfort. But you hadn’t been there. So when, another girl started flirting with him he didn’t say no to her. He didn’t know how to say no to her. God, you wished he had said no to her. He had never meant to hurt you, but he had lost all clarity and just… broke all the promises he had made to you.

You wanted to scream, to shout, anything to let the pain out. He had forgotten he was yours.

He had forgotten you were his and that you had made promises too. You would have been with him, helped him, and supported him. But he had forgotten. You were a broken mess and you were angry. Angry at the letters for reminding you of better times, angry at him for cheating on you and treating you the way he did, but most of all, you were angry at yourself. Angry for being such a mess, angry for punishing yourself by pushing away people who cared for you, and most all wasting tears on a ruined relationship. You wanted to do something. You didn’t want to sit there and waste your energy and tears. You gathered all the letters surrounding you. You collected them all in your hands and walked down the stairs with a determined stance. You could feel your dorm mates and other students staring at you, wondering what you had been up to, all these days locked in your room, but you didn’t pay attention to them. For the first time in weeks you were feeling hopeful. You made your way to the nightly bonfire the students in your college created. You noticed MJ standing there talking with your friends. You could see that she was surprised to see you, but you just smiled at her and made your way to the front of the bonfire. You looked at the letters and brushed your hands against your name which had been inscribed in Peter’s messy handwriting on the top corner. You then stared into the fire, trying to calm yourself. You didn’t want to look back at the letters again, so you just flung them into the fire. You watched as the fire engulfed the letters. You felt relieved as you let out a breath and felt as though you were breathing for the first time in a long time.  What happened with Peter was in the past. And while it still hurt, you knew that your heart would heal over time and that you would find people who deserve your love and friendship.  The flames from the fire were dancing as if they knew what had happened and were rejoicing with you. You felt a smile take over your face, brilliant and radiant, almost rivalling the brightness of the fire. The letters had burned, but your life would not burn with them.

~~~~

So..this was it folks!!! Plsss tell me how u liked it and feel free to send me asks!!! 

#tom holland #break up #angst #fluffy #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #breaking up with peter parker #hamilton #burn #musical #phillipa soo #just imagine #i love this #eliza hamilton #eliza schylur #schylur sisters

[the-firebender-girl]

I See the Light (Zuko x Reader)

Inspired by that one scene from “Tangled”

Note: This is my very first fic soo I do apologize in advance if it’s still bad and for the grammar mistakes which I could’ve made somewhere along the story since English is not my mother tongue. Feedbacks are appreciated and I hope you enjoy it♥️

-> In which Y/N is a part of Azula’s gang and also Zuko’s long lost childhood bestfriend who has had a crush on him since they were little.

The infamous banished crown prince is now back, up and running alongside his father and sister again. This news spread like wildfire all over the capital of the Fire Nation, both pleased and opposing reactions equal in numbers but alas everyone can see that Prince Zuko is now back in the Fire Lord’s good graces.

The noble families are preparing a ‘welcoming back’ celebration in his honor. Surely it was just another act to suck up and earn his favor, but whose to say that he can’t still enjoy it and bask in the festivities? after all he deserves this right? no matter what the means and motives behind it.

It was the morning of the day of the festival and Zuko is just about to begin his day after getting prim and pampered into his Crown Prince’s attire when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.

“Who is it?” He raised the tone of his voice a bit so the person behind it could hear.

“Why don’t you take a guess?”Is what he heard back, a voice that he hasn’t heard for far too long of a time answered.

Not waiting a second longer the person behind it swung his ornate door open and entered the room.

Y/N stood in all her glory wearing the finest of red silk traditional garment, hair neatly weaved into a braided bun. Her (Y/E/C) eyes twinkled with mischief as a small smile tugs the corner of her lips up.

She hums and take a good look at the grown boy in front of her, whatever journey that he’s been through surely did him good.

“You look good”

“Well I sure hope so, after all it’s my first day back as the crown prince isn’t it?” He replied sheepishly, cheeks tinted red at her compliment.

“If the verdict comes from me then it’s safe to say you’re ready to dazzle the whole kingdom and have all the maidens fawning all over you Prince Zuko” She said as she grinned a cheshire cat smile.

“Ughh stop with the compliments Y/N, I can’t even tell whether you’re teasing me or not anymore” He replied back as he rolls his eyes.

“It’s been a while since I saw you” All mirth lost from her tone as she whispers this out.

“Yeah.... way too long for my liking” His eyes softens as he stares back at her.

Their little moment was broken as Azula poked her head from behind the half-opened door and decided to join the party.

“Whatever is taking sooo long? you’re even worse than us girls when it comes to vanity, Zuzu” The princess said as she saunters in all cat like, movement smooth and calculated.

“I was done a while ago Azula, me and Y/N was just catching up” Zuko grumbled.

“Well do the catching up later then, we need to grace this festival with our presents”

“Fine by me, off we go now Y/N” Zuko said as he beckoned for Y/N to follow him.

Y/N falls in line besides Zuko and they exited his bedroom with Azula trailing not too far behind them.

———————————————————————

Despite it still being bright and early, the festival is already in full swing. Unlit lanterns decorated the streets, carts selling fire flakes, extra spicy fire noodles and various other traditional food can be seen here and there, the sound of singing and various musical instruments reverberated through the air.

Y/N walks side by side with Ty Lee, meanwhile Zuko chooses to position himself beside Mai in the back, Azula’s leading the pack all by herself in the very front.

The bubbly girl leans in to whisper in her ear, “Soo did the two of you get to talk?” Ty Lee asked curiously.

Y/N sigh, “No we didn’t, I was just about to when Azula decided to ruined the moment”

Y/N sneak a discrete look to the couple behind them who’s too busy basking in each other’s presence to notice, “And now he decided to spend the whole day with Mai instead” Letting a bit of annoyance and hurt creeps into her voice.

Ty Lee looks at her dejected bestfriend encouragingly, putting her small hand on one fo her shoulders and give it a few taps, “There there... i’m sure he’ll come around, this festival is gonna go on for a while, at some point he’ll be alone”

But she was wrong. Zuko was never alone, not even for the smallest of moment. He was always dotting on Mai, looking at her with this sparkle in his eyes. I guess even time sometimes can’t change some things.

———————————————————————

Night rolls around as the sky darkens and the streets are lit with the red and gold glow emited from the lanterns.

It’s now time for the finale and the highlight of this celebration that people have been waiting for the whole day. A boat ride across the small lake in the capital to watch the release of lampions into the sky.

Here they are now standing on the wooden dock and about to enter their respective boats when Ty Lee decided to do a little sprint towards Mai and weave herself right into her arm.

“I’m tagging Mai and it’s final! I miss her, I never got the chance to do any of the activities together earlier” She said, feet stumping like a child, lips pouting.

“Uugh fine do whatever you want, Ty Lee just stop with the antics” Azula said as she looks at her judgingly, “You won’t mind, would you brother?” A hit of teasing malice evident in her tone as she challenged him to say something back.

“No, of course not. I’ll take the boat with Y/N” He replied flatly, trying hard to maintain the tone of his voice and not give into her trap.

Azula claps her hands, “Well great then, that solves the problem, off you all kids go now”

“Wait you’re not going with us?” Y/N asked incrediously.

And to this the princess raised one of her perfectly groomed eyebrow, “And what in the world makes you think I would participate in such..... frivolous activity?” She bites back.

“Come on Y/N let’s just go, she has no fun bones in her” Zuko said as he gently tug at her elbow to stop what could be an escalating argument.

And so the prince and his childhood bestfriend make way to their boat. He goes in first then extend a hand out for her to take, to steady her.

“Thanks Zuko” She said gratefuly, after stepping into the boat and taking a sit.

“Couldn’t let you fall now could I?” He replied teasingly.

The two of them takes the paddles and row their boat towards the middle of the lake, trying to secure the best spot, which is left empty anyway once the people saw who’s currently on this boat. Some giving a small bow of their heads in respect as they passed.

“It’s peaceful out here” She started, slumping a bit in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Zuko sees her constantly shifting into different position asks, “You okay there?”

“Yeah it’s just that my body is kinda aching from the day activities and walking, I couldn’t really sit still upright now” She confessed a bit embarassed.

Zuko lets out a low chuckle and beckons for her, “Come here”

She throws him a questioning glance, to which he gives a nod.

Y/N gets up and wobble a bit towards Zuko, rocking their boat, and she almost took a tumble when his arms wraps itself over her waist.

“I got you,” He said, making her took a sharp breath as her cheeks flooded with warmth.

Zuko then guides her into a seating position in front of him, half cuddling her into his chest. Her head settling in the crook of his neck as he lazily drapes his arms on her side.

“Comfortable enough for you, your highness?”

She rolled her eyes and hit his chest playfully.

“As a matter of fact, I am very comfortable right now”

The both of them look at each other and share a smile.

“You must regret not being in the boat with Mai instead, this setting is a bit too romantic for two childhood friends isn’t it?” She asked, testing the water, head tilting a bit to look at him properly and try to gauge out a reaction.

“Well I already spent the whole day with her anyway so that’s fine, i’m usually not into this whole romantic boat ride thingy but I guess if it’s with you then i’ll just bear with it” He replied back in good humor.

She just hums back in respond and decided to let the comfortable silence envelops them.

The sound of pipa (琵琶) a four-stringed musical instrument with frets like those on a guitar could be heard through the air, followed by other instruments, and soft singing voices of the hired singers on a boat not too far from them.

All those days watching from the windows

All those years outside looking in

All that time never even knowing

Just how blind I've been

A melodious voice sings the first few lyrics out.

“I’ve never heard this song before, it’s lovely” Y/N said quietly.

“Yeah... me too” came his reply.

Now I'm here blinking in the starlight

Now I'm here suddenly I see

Standing here it's all so clear

I'm where I'm meant to be

Y/N takes a glance at Zuko, watching his features looking content and relaxed for the first time in a while. This boy doesn’t realize just how handsome he is, does he? how much power he actually has over her.

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

As the first light from the lampions started to illuminate the night sky, awed gasps can be heard from all around them.

Lampions are released to fly into the sky, bright golden glows surrounds the boat everywhere, it’s like the sun itself is here, in the middle of the night.

All those days chasing down a daydream

All those years living in a blur

All that time never truly seeing

Things, the way they were

Now she's here shining in the starlight

Now she's here suddenly I know

If she's here it's crystal clear

I'm where I'm meant to go

Zuko had spent a huge portion of his life wandering aimlessly. Yes of course he has the whole ‘chasing the avatar’ thing on his agenda and yet it never felt quite right.

But being here, with her, someone who probably knows him best of all the person in the world besides his uncle, for the first time he finally feels like he belong.

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you

Zuko watches every emotion flickers across her face, it’s beautiful, she’s like a living art.

“Is this how uncle feels when it comes to his tea?” He wondered to himself.

He always knows that he loves her as a friend, he’d do anything for this girl, but could there possibly be something more between them? especially with this weird feelings that he now has in his stomach while looking at her, and the tightening of his chest, and how he felt warm watching her happiness at such simple things.

Now that I see you

“Stop looking at me Zuko, you’re staring at the wrong thing” She said embarrassedly, trying to hide her face into his chest.

“Nahh i’m mighty sure i’m looking at the right thing, what’s more worthy of seeing anyway” He whispers back to her.

She raised her face so fast she almost got a whiplash, about to retort something witty back when she sees the honesty in his face. How he actually means what he says.

“I see you too you know.... I always have, not the composed prince, just you, just Zuko”

Zuko raised one hand hesitantly, stopping it mid air to ask for permission and when she shows no sign of wanting to stop him, he lets his hand cup her cheek gently.

“I know... that’s why i’m scared to lose you, I thought by keeping this all to myself, I wouldn’t ruin whatever we have right now”

“Just let me in Zuko, that’s all I ask” Y/N said as she rubs a comforting touches on his arm.

“But what about Mai?” She starts again, “I thought you like her”

“I thought I did too, but it would never have worked out anyway between me and her, we both want and crave different things, and I was too scared to admit to myself that you’re what i’m looking for all this time”

“Soooo?” She asked, drawling out the O’s while looking at him expectantly.

“Sooo?” He said back, grinning at her clear frustration.

“Stop being coy with me! so where do we go from here?”

He takes both of her hands in his and clasp it firmly, looking straight into her eyes.

“We go forward, together.”

“Always?” She asked again, vulnerabilty evident in her voice, asking for his devotion.

“Always. Until the very end” He said in a final tone, giving her his promise.

And so the both of them shared their very first kiss, under the light of a thousand lanterns, and the moon in the distance as the witness of their everlasting promise to each other.

#aang #atla #atla aang #atla rewatch #avatar the last airbender #avatar the legend of aang #atla zuko #avatar zuko #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko fanfic #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #zuko drabble #zuko imagine #zuko x you #atla imagine #atla oneshot #zuko one shot #atla fanfic

[wouldpollyapprove]

A Girl That Wasn’t Meant To Love

Request: can you do a tommy x reader based on the song hell on high heels by motley crue

Requested by @magnificentzombiebasement

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, prostitution

A/n: I had a completely different idea for how I wanted to write this and what I ended up actually writing is more of like a prologue. If you guys like this, I may write a second part, but it’s not a priority at the moment. I also want you guys to know that I gave up editing this halfway through b/c it’s hella long and I’m lazy. So, that’s the reason things may be spelled wrong or not make sense at all.

Masterlist

“There’s no shame in this life,” she’d been told before. It was by an old woman, one stuck in her place at one time in her life. “There is no shame in doing what must be done to survive.” Head held high, that’s what Y/n lived by. Ugly truths and monstrous men, she saw nothing but the end of the line. Every night was touch or go, wondering if she would have enough money to make it to the next. But with each rising sun, she grew stronger and the money in her pockets started to bulge.

There was no shame in what she did if it led to her survival.

Y/n never liked the only word ever used to describe women like her: “prostitute”. The word, unclean, allowed men to shove her face in the mud. Women, who never had to do a days work on their back to pay the bills, would spit at her, curses, even words sailors wouldn’t utter, leaving their porcelain lips. They didn’t see the pot of gold they had stumbled upon, all that they had that was out of reach from other’s. They were selfish in believing that some people had a choice in what had to be done to put food on the table.

It had always been a struggle to come by much of anything. Y/n grew up in a village in France that knew everything but wealth. People made enough to live, but never leave. War was the only thing that ever allowed boys and girls alike to wave at the village behind them. Most never returned, but there were always more to replace those in the ground. Producing like rabbits, there was no such thing as plentiful. Skin and bones, they all worked day and night to live for another hour, but it was never enough for Y/n. 

Tough as nails, she was tired of living from meal to meal. Wishing for the world, she wasn’t like her mother or sisters, who dreamed of getting by, she wanted to take what was her’s. And so, with what little she had, she fled to Paris. It took days, different strangers pitying her state, the dirt stained clothes and tangled hair, but eventually she reached the golden city.

There, she could find little work with the skill set she’d acquired as a child. Laborers weren’t meant to walk the streets of the capital, they were meant for the tiny villages that she came from. And so, another line of work had to be found and that is when the woman who ran Le Sphinx pulled her inside. Knowing nothing of prostitution, Y/n was forced to quickly learn, being educated in both the desires of men and etiquette. 

Once ready and thrown to the lions, she did whatever she could to stay above the sharp, white teeth. At first, there were many nights with tears streaming down her cheeks and the thought of home forever circling around her mind. It was hard to adapt to something she’d known nothing about. Even harder when she was merely competition to the other girls. No one would extend a hand, wipe the tears off her stained cheeks and tell her that it would get better. The girls at the brothel were worse than the ones Y/n encountered on the street. They did anything to start a fight and were worse than thieves. If you valued anything, it wasn’t to be kept in plain sight. It was a war zone one no man would ever have to face.

But before Y/n knew it, she was on top, the woman all the business men and visiting royals wanted to spend the evening with. It wasn’t bad to be sitting in the lap of a Norwegian royal, not once you were aware of how much their hat alone cost. Drowning in riches, this was close enough to the life she wanted. With all the money given to her by the men that believed they were her only loves, she packed her bags and moved to London. 

That was where the rich became even richer and where our story starts.

Settling into her London home, Y/n decided she would rather spend her days doing anything but lying on her back. There were some clients, wealthy ones, that she’d see occasionally, but she wanted to make money in other ways. And with all that she had saved up, she did just that by purchasing a dress shop. It was the perfect quaint life that she had been looking for all along and it was finally her’s. Most of her days were spent hiring seamstresses or going over new fabrics, Y/n wanted women to flock from all over the country to buy her dresses and she would do anything to achieve that.

But like everyone, she got bored. 

Wanting more than to roam the streets of London, she decided to put one of her best workers in charge and run around the English countryside. While on her little holiday, Y/n stopped in Birmingham. Meant to be the manufacturing capital of the country, it didn’t try to hide that fact. But she loved it. The dirt and grime, the sweat that covered the brow. She was raised just as they were, work until the day was done. The broken backs and accidental deaths were something she was all too familiar with. 

These people were her people.

Taking in the city around her, Y/n wandered into a pub near a few factories. Whether it was accepted for women to venture out on their own in this city or not, she didn’t care. A mediocre whiskey sour was all she was asking for. Pushing the doors open, gold details ran along the wall as the sun peeked through stained glass windows. For a pub on the wrong side of town, London was all that crossed her mind. There were many pubs in the capital that held themselves like the one she stood in. Shaking off her shock, Y/n took a seat at one of the bar stools, sinking into its cushion. 

“What can I get you?” the barmaid with eyes that dripped of honey and charcoal curls asked her.

“How about a whiskey sour?” she smiled at the girl. She looked to be no more than eighteen, what an age to be. By the time Y/n was that age, she was already in Paris, doing the job few women willing accepted. The girl nodded, curls bouncing around her chiseled face, before fetching the ingredients needed.

Y/n leaned back in her chair and began to search her purse for a cigarette. It was a bad habit she’d picked up from the brothel, but it did wonders at calming the nerves. She searched and searched, but it appeared that she smoked the last one that morning. “Fuck,” she muttered, doubling checking.

“Missing something?” a voice asked from across the bar.

She straightened to lock eyes with a tall man, his brunette hair shaved at the side. Unsure what to make of him, she simply nodded. He held himself like a businessman, suit and all, but all she could see were the rough edges of a working man.

“What have you lost?” he asked, waiting for a proper answer. 

Sighing in defeat, Y/n placed her bag on the bar. “My cigarettes. I fear I’ve cleaned myself out.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, slowly he dug a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled a pack out. “I happen to have a few.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile seeing the canister. God only knows where she’d have to go to buy a new pack. “Mind sharing one with me?”

Waltzing over to her side, movements swift and precise, he held one out between his fingers for her to take. Gently, she slipped it between her own before placing it between her lips. Being a gentleman, the man already had his lighter out by the time it was snug between her painted lips and lit it for her. “Thank you…” she waited for a name, taking a drag.

“Tommy.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” she smiled and watched as he slid into the seat next to her. “I assume your first name’s Thomas then.”

Tommy smiled. “No, it’s Ethel.” The statement pulled a laugh from the woman sitting next to him. “And what’s your name? Or do you not have one of those?”

“Oh I have one,” she said right before the barmaid returned with her drink. “Thank you,” she smiled at the girl. Attention back on the man beside her, she took a quick drink of her better-than-mediocre whiskey sour before answering his question. “Y/n L/n.”

The man nodded, eyes going up the length of her body. The silk smooth fabric of her dress, the purse discarded on the bar top, and the jewels that hung around her wrist told Tommy all he needed to know about her. Plain as day, Y/n came from money. “What brings ya to Small Heath?” Tommy questioned, lighting his own cigarette, and leaned back in his stool, turning towards her. 

“Small stop before traveling to London,” she admitted.

“London’s home, I take it.”

Y/n shrugged and flicked ash into the ashtray between them. “For now.”

Silence fell between the two. For once in her life, butterflies fluttered around her stomach, creating a knot that was both nerve racking and pleasant. There was never a chance for Y/n to even think of any sort of love except that of money before moving to England. But still beside Tommy, she felt something that she had never experienced before. Her heart told her it was more than just the love that overcame a silly school girl. No matter what it said, though, her brain overruled and told her off on the silly notion. 

The two spent the rest of the day talking at the bar, swapping stories of all they had done. Y/n swept her early career into a dark closet, locking it away from the young man. She knew how his sky blue eyes would turn the color of the sea with the knowledge out in the open. She couldn’t have that. For most of her life, Y/n had watched people’s views on her change in an instant based on a profession many dipped their toes into in the name of survival. She wouldn’t have that with him. Not when she could feel it in her bones that he was meant to be something more.

Eventually, Y/n had to go back to London, but she didn’t board the train without handing Tommy her address. “Write. Please. Anytime you wish, write to me. I will always answer,” a glossy smile danced on her lips, she placed a small paper in his palm. 

“I will. I promise,” he answered. Though they hadn’t known each other long, both knew that they would never lose touch.

“I best be going now.” Y/n scanned the station, noticing as people began to board the train. “Goodbye, Tommy.” Before she could turn on her heels, a hand caught her wrist and pulled her back. A grasp escaped her before soft lips captured her’s. Deepening the kiss, Y/n wanted to do anything but board the locomotive. 

Tommy pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “Goodbye, Y/n,” he said with a sad smile as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

They parted that day and as Y/n watched him become nothing with the growing distance, she could still feel his lips on her. Call it love, call it lust, but it was one of the great wonders of the world, that she knew. 

Once in London, Y/n made haste to write to Tommy. Her friends couldn’t help but notice the smile that adorned her face when the mail was dropped by every day and the one letter she picked out of the rest, holding it to her chest. They wondered if she’d found a lover or a boyfriend, but there was no answer she could give them.

What was Thomas Shelby to her? To a girl that wasn’t meant to love?

An answer couldn’t be given in fear of ruining what had been created. 

Piles of letters flowed between the pair and soon, Tommy was asking her to come to Birmingham once more. The same excuses were used each time. She couldn’t find anyone to watch the shop or money was tight and she couldn’t spare a penny. White lies left her lips dressed as the truth. She couldn’t leave the safety of her home to visit the darkness of the unknown. Everything surrounding the man was new to her and Y/n couldn’t figure out how to handle it. Run straight at it or hide in the corner, those were her options. She liked the corner.

But Mr. Shelby wouldn’t have it with the excuses, deciding that if she couldn’t come to Birmingham then he would go to London.

A knock at the front door pulled mighty barks from Pearl, the French Bulldog Y/n found starving on the streets one night. With eyes on the stove, Y/n was weary to leave them unattended to answer the door. “Be there in a minute,” she called, giving the eyes a few extra seconds before sliding them onto a plate. Pearl ran between her feet, almost tripping her, as Y/n walked to the front door. Doing her best to keep the creature in the house, using one foot to hold her back, she opened the door, body freezing when she locked eyes with the man in front of her. 

“Y/n.” A smile like honey spread across his face, almost making Y/n forget why her heart seized up in fear. 

“Tommy,” she breathed out in return. The dog behind her used the shock to her advantage and quickly found a gap between her owner and the door, slipping through to bark at the stranger in front of her. Y/n scoffed and quickly scooped the dog up before she could take a bite out of Tommy’s polished shoes. “Pearl, you pest,” she scolded. “Um, please, come in.”

When the door was opened wider, Tommy stepped through the threshold and began to strip himself of his coat. “I was in town for business, thought I’d come see you.”

A smile lit up her face at his words. No one had ever been kind enough to do that, not for the innocent reasons he was. “There’s breakfast in the kitchen if you’d like some.” He nodded, following close behind as she led the way, eyes scanning the walls that past him.

“Lovely home,” he remarked as Y/n gestured for him to have a seat at the kitchen table. Doing as she pleased, he sank into the wooden chair and took in his surroundings.

The second his eyes had landed on her months before in the Garrison, Tommy knew the woman came from money. Back straight as a board, jewels dangling from her body, there was no mistaking it. He sat beside her, hoping she couldn’t sniff out dirt poor, violent prone individuals. By the end of her stay in Birmingham, it seemed she knew no difference between expensive suits obtained by gun point and those with a handful of coins. 

It was foolish for Tommy to believe she would want anything to do with him. He was a poor boy turned thief turned war hero turned criminal. Little he touched after the war was legal and he knew better than to believe that a woman of her status would ever want a man like himself. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged while dishing eggs onto two plates. Before placing them on the table, she set a piece of toast next to the eggs and grabbed the butter off the counter. A plate was placed in front of her guest, who wasn’t sure if he should be surprised that she knew how to cook. Anyone who owned a house such as the one Tommy found himself in usually had a few maids and a cook, but not Y/n it seemed. “What business brings you to London?”

“None worth anything,” he answered.

A groomed brow raised, she wondered why he wasted the trip. “Then why come?”

The answer that escaped his lips hit her in the heart, the one she saw coming. “For you.” For her, he had left the comforts of his home. For her, he had wasted precious time. And for her, he would surely be disappointed. 

“Tommy,” she drawled, eyes gloomy to match her said smile. “You didn’t have to.”

Leaning back in his chair, his blue eyes pierced her own. His demeanor had changed. Once loving and sweet, now sharp and calculated. “You refused to come see me, decided to come see why.”

Y/n sighed, unsure whether to let her eyes wonder or stay focused on the man in front of her. “I’ve been busy,” she lied.

Her words must have been see through, not an ounce of weight to them, when Tommy rolled his eyes. “Apparently, you’ve been so busy that you’ve allowed yourself to visit the coast.” His words were bitter, laced with venom, each syllable as dangerous as the next. “Thought I wouldn’t find out?”

A foolish move to believe she could live a wonderful life. Once back in London, Y/n had done her fair share of research on Thomas Shelby. When it came to survival, it was always best to know all those around you. Y/n couldn’t allow anyone to burn her empire, no matter how much she was willing to let them. She knew Tommy was making his way up in the world, climbing the latter, each rung as illegal as the next. He was a quick witted and calculated man. Ambition seemed to always cross his mind. Tommy seemed to know as much about her as she did about him. But if he only mentioned her trip to the coast, perhaps he didn’t know all she thought he did.

Opening her mouth to say something, she was cut off before a word could get out. 

“What am I to you?” The words were heavy on his tongue, even heavier ringing in her ears. 

Y/n sat there, opening and closing her mouth, the breakfast in front of her completely forgotten. There was no perfect answer. No sentence that could be formulated that could wash away the pain evident in his eyes. There was no word that could be uttered to mend what she had broken but the simple truth.

Letting her eyes scour the room, she did her best to avoid eye contact as Tommy’s gaze drilled into her. “If you believe you don’t mean anything to me, you’re wrong. You mean the world to me.”

“You have an interesting way of showing it.”

Y/n couldn’t help but flinch at the bitter words. “I…” she shook her head and got to her feet. She couldn’t sit still, not with her heart attempting to beat out of her chest. “I don’t know how to love.”

The words were barely above a whisper but Tommy heard them from his place at the table. Eyes softening, he wasn’t sure he’d understood her properly. “What do you mean?”

Pacing around the kitchen, tears welled up in her eyes at all she didn’t want to say. Y/n wasn’t ashamed of her past, in fact, many would find it triumphant, but it wasn’t one that bathed in love. She had never been loved or in love until she had met Thomas Shelby at a pub in Birmingham. Many only had one love and that was good enough. But with her background, love was never enough. She could love with her whole heart, but her loyalty would always come into question.

“I have never been allowed to love,” Y/n explained at the mini bar in the corner of the room. It may have been early, but it was never earlier too early for a drink. A strong on at that. Shaking hand poured whiskey into a glass, filling much more than needed. “I-I have never been in a… relationship that wasn’t physical.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what to make of her announcement or  the woman that stood before him. Whiskey pouring over the rim of her glass, it wasn’t hard for the man to see that her gentle words covered up a dirtier trust. Pushing himself out of his chair, in a few quick strides, he was by her side. Long fingers snatched the drink from her hand, placing it on the counter. “Were you a-”

“Please, please don’t say it!” she begged, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Please.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him, her head resting against his chest. “I won’t, I won’t,” Tommy said, rubbing a hand up and down her back. It did little soothe her but it was better than doing nothing. “It’s alright, love.”

Y/n shook her head, pulling away enough to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not,” she cried. “I’m fucking filthy! Not someone anyone would love.”

It broke his heart to see the pain in her eyes, the truth she placed on each word. Placing a hand against her cheek, he stroked the smooth skin, letting her melt against his touch. “I love you, Y/n,” he said softly to combat her sobs. “And I don’t care how filthy you are, I love you. And if I have to teach you how to lover properly, then so be it. But if you can love Pearl then I know you can love anyone.”

She was quiet, savoring each word that was said. No one had ever said such a thing to her and meant every word. Some customers had believed they were in love with her, taken her kindness for passionate love, but it was never that. “Do you mean it?” Y/n asked as Tommy wiped her tears away.

“Every word.” He leaned down, capturing her in a kiss. Y/n grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Tommy could have stayed there, with his arms wrapped around her, forever, but Pearl had other ideas. The dog barked from the other side of the room, earning laughs from two. Turning his attention back to Y/n, Tommy brushed a stray hair behind her ear and asked, “Now, will you come to Birmingham with me?”

*~~*~~*

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[stxvercgersslut]

omg could you do a Chris Evans x Toddler!Reader where he’s her stepdad and readers dad is always ‘to busy’ to see her and she’s really disappointed so readers mom & Chris comfort her🥺

A/n: YESSS!!!! Omg I love this I love this I love this!!!! It’s actually the cutest ask I’ve gotten 😭❤️ I just can’t not write this! I also kinda changed it a little so that it’s just Chris comforting her sooooo I hope you like it.

Warnings: Language, dissapointmemt, a whole lot of fluff.

The one that cares

Chris hadn’t expected to fall in love as quickly as he had fell in love with Delilah. She was the love of his life from the moment that he had met her on the set of one of his latest movies. She’d only been there to visit her brother on set, yet his eyes had instantly fell on hers as soon as she walked into the room. He couldn’t just let her leave, so of course that they he had went straight up to her, talked to her, found out her name and inevitably asked her out. It was a quick cycle done in around 10 minutes of meeting her, but Chris couldnt have been happier. This type of love was real. Passionate and just over all the one thing that he had been searching for his entire life. Delilah was it for him the second he’d met her.

Around 2 months into dating Chris had been introduced to you, this small 2 year old little girl with a hug smile on your face the second you’d met him. It was like an instant connection from the beginning. Of course it had taken you a few weeks to get used to him being around. But after a while you finally began to enjoy Chris’s company. Especially since he was round at the house almost every single day to visit your mother.

After around a year later Chris proposed to your mother and on your 4th birthday, the they got married. It was more of a celebration for you then it was for them. Especially since It was practically your birthday present. You’d been so excited. Chris could remeber how happy you had been that day, standing right next to your mother and giggling happily during the actual wedding. He’d even picked you up and held you in his arms during your mother’s vows. Wanting to keep you as involved with this wedding as physically possible. It was clear from the beginning that Chris loved you as if you were his own. Which was what drew Delilah to him.

Finally a father figure. Not that you didn’t have a dad, but Chris was around a whole lot more then your asshole of a dad was. And that in itself just wasn’t fair.

Josh, your biological father, had been pretty much out of the picture since you were 2. Only occasionally being able to see you since he always claimed that he was ‘busy’ when he was usually out at some bar making out with any random women that would throw themselves that him. It was clear from the start that Josh didn’t give the tiniest shit about you, or even the fact that you were his child.

Even when he actually bothered to show up, usually because either Chris or Delilah had forced him to actually pay attention to you and reminding him that you were just a kid, he wasn’t even there. Not really. He just sat there, didn’t even play with you, just sat their and watched as you played on your own with you teddy’s. And even then he didn’t stay too long. Clearly not liking the fact that Delilah had found happiness in an A-list celebrity.

Not only did Josh’s lack of being around for you upset you but it also Angered Chris as well as Delilah. However Chris was even more furious with Josh then the both of you combined. He hated how upset you got, how heartbroken you were when Josh just sat there or didn’t even bother to show up. But what hurt him the most was watching you sob into either his chest or your mothers chest right after being reluctantly informed that once again Josh wasn’t coming. To see your excited little face switch so quickly into one of pain and heartbreak was enough to completely piss Chris off to the point where he wanted to actually beat the shit out of Josh.

Today, for example, was once again one of the days that Chris always dreaded. Today had been the day that Josh was finally supposed to come over and spend some time with you, after 3 whole months of not seeing you he was finally coming over. Yet 5 minutes before he was actually supposed to be there he called. Of course he did.

Chris groaned as he looked towards you before back to his phone “sorry sweetheart, I’ll be back in a second” he announced before finally leaving the room after kissing your head gently. Despite all the disappointment you were still excited to see Josh. Of course you were. Diliah wasn’t there today, in fact she was working today so it was just him. Thankfully Chris got the day off so that he could be there for you when the inevitable happened.

“Hello?” He began, not even giving him a chance to speak “Josh where the fuck are you? You’re supposed to be here in 5 fucking minutes” Chris spoke not giving a shit that he was being rude, Josh didn’t deserve the nice side to Chris. Not at all.

“Yeah.....about that....My work called me a few minutes ago and said that I need to go in. Something about needing extra staff today” yet another excuse! This man was truely an asshole.

“BULLSHIT!” Chris spat, venom seeping from his words as he did. Now he was pissed. “It’s not bullshit man! I have work!” Josh lied. Usually if this happened then Delilah would be there to take the phone away from him before he said something that would ruin the entire ‘agreement’ but today she wasn’t there to stop him, so he was free to say whatever he wanted. Within reason of course.

“Listen you asshole!” He began, suddenly becoming insanely aware of the fact that he was being too loud. Almost startling you. “We both know that you don’t have to work today!” Now he was a little quieter “and we both know you’re just going to go to a bar or a strip club! You’re an asshole and all you want is to fuck with y/n’s mind! She’s an innocent child who fucking loved you no matter what yet you don’t even care about her?!? What kind of parent are you? Dads should be there for their kids but you don’t even care about her!” This wasn’t Chris talking, this was the anger that had finally been allowed out.

“What?!? First of all You have no right to say any of that! And second of all yes I do care about her! I’m just busy!” He defended, still doing a shitty job at it.

“No you don’t! You don’t give a shit!” Chris yelled angrily, not caring for any more of his bullshit, so he hung up. Now completely stressed about the fact that he had to go and break your heart again. Oh this was going to hurt a whole lot more then usual.

After a good 2 minutes of mentally preparing himself for the heartache, Chris finally walked back to the front room where you were still happily colouring in a drawing that you had made for Josh. Little did you know Josh never took those drawings, Chris was always the one to take them and hide them in his room since your biological father always ‘forgot’ the pictures. Chris just wanted to spare your feelings that’s all. Didn’t want to add anymore heartache into the mix of disappointment.

Quickly Chris sat down on the couch opposite you. Watching you for a few moments before finally speaking“Hey babygirl, can you come sit with me for a minute please?” He asked carefully, to which you instantly stood up and wandered over to him with a cute little wiggle to your step since you were excited. Soon climbing up onto the couch and getting onto his lap like usual which he never actually seemed to mind since it meant that you felt comfortable around him. “What’s wrong Daddy?” You asked, already seeing the lines of fear registering in his features as he began to think. Every single day he thanked the gods above that you’d accepted him into the family.

“Your real dads not coming today” rip the bandage of as quick as physically possible. If he did that then he’d have more time to comfort you if needed. God this was going to be so hard “.....I know you really wanted to see him today but he got really busy.....baby I’m so sorry that he did this to you and it’s so not fair at all” he stated. Watching as your bright e/c gorgous eyes dissapeared and were once again replaced with disappointment. On what world was any of this not heartbreaking to see? Exactly it was devastating. Especially when he loved you so much.

“My dads......not coming?” You asked, pain already beginning to seap into your voice.

“No baby.....I’m so sorry...” he spoke, his voice already breaking and tears already forming in his eyes. How could someone be so cruel to someone so kindhearted?

“But he.....he said he would......” you stutter. That in itself was enough to cause tears to spill from Chris’s eyes. Never had he ever thought that you’d get this heartbroken over being disappointed. After so many disappointments he would have thought that you would have gotten used it already.

“I know I know....but he’s done this before sweetheart.....he’s known for it.”

It unfortunately didn’t take long for you to break down into floods of tears, already beginning to break Chris’s heart even more then he ever thought that it could. You were worse then heartbroken, in fact you were devastated.

He couldn’t take it anymore, seeing you so broken was hurting him. So before you knew it he was picking you up and literally placing you on his hip so you wer closer to him. No way was he letting you just wallow in self pity. Not when your birthday was in 3 days. You were so close to being 5! How could he just leave you to cry on your birthday weekend. Exactly he couldn’t. “Okay baby It’s so close to your birthday and I’m not letting you be sad! So what do you wanna do? It’s your weekend starting now, so what do you wanna do?” He asked, hopeful that giving you the option of what to do would perk you up a little. Yet you just continued to cry into his shoulder, extremely angry, upset and scared with everything that had gone wrong today.

“It’s okay....it’s okay sweetheart just cry..let it all out.” He soothed, rubbing your back reassuringly as he did “Daddy’s here. I’m never gonna leave you sweetheart. I promise you I’m not going anywhere unless I have to. But I’ll always come back okay? I will always come back”

But thankfully, after 20 minutes of just rocking you in his arms and softly humming along to the words of your favourite Disney songs (being a big fan of Disney had its perks of course) you finally stopped crying. Now completely registering what Chris has asked you a few moments ago. “C.....can we go....to Disney land?” You asked quietly, afraid that you’d get shot down.

This was a big ask from you, one that Chris should have Beene expecting! Especially since you’d wanted to go to Disney land for so long yet you’d always been knocked back. Although, today was different. Today Chris has given you free rain on whatever you wanted to do today. So how could he disappoint and tell you no? “Hmmmm okay sweetheart Disney land it is! Just me and you? Or do you want me to ask mommy if she wants to come too?” He questioned, literally just letting you make all the decisions today since he’d said it was your day. If this was how he would get you to calm down completely then so be it. To avoid having any fans spotting him he’d have to make a few phone calls, maybe see if he could use a private jet in order to make sure you weren’t see. Especially since your were his step-daughter and thankfully not one knew about you just yet. He’d been able to keep you out of the public eye.

“Mommy’s working, just you and me” you spoke, for a four year old you were learning quickly which made him quite happy to know you were learning. “Alright sweetheart then lets go.” He spoke.

And that day he stayed true to his word.

Tag list: @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @chuckbass-love @cevans-fics

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