#he's chewed it every time he's goning to sleep since we got it

[egberts]

louis gets bitey when he's sleepy so we got him a chew toy duck from the dog section and he loves it

#he's chewed it every time he's goning to sleep since we got it #lou #sonboys allowed #kittens

[ereardon]

You Again [Hangman x Reader]

Summary: It’s been five years since you last saw your childhood best friend and first love Jake Seresin. But fate, or coincidence, has you back in Jake’s life and he’s desperate not to lose you again. 

WC: 4K+

Warning: Pining, alcohol, cursing

Miniseries masterlist; part 2 here; part 3 here

The last person you expected to see that night was Jake Seresin. 

Just off the back of a 24-hour shift, you plopped down on a bar stool and ordered a burger and a beer, not caring that it was eleven o’clock or that the crowd was filled with ruckus Navy men proudly puffing their chests in their almost-too-tight uniforms. You rolled your eyes as not one, not two, but three separate men hit on you using opening lines around how much they like a woman who eats. 

The final one, a tall redhead who smelled of jet fuel and desperation, loomed so close to you that he was nearly touching the food before it entered your mouth. 

“Wow, gotta say, I love a girl who really eats.” 

You rolled your eyes. “And what, do all of the twits that you date survive off of photosynthesis alone?” 

A barking laugh came from behind your left shoulder and you saw the ginger visibly stiffen. 

“Lieutenant Seresin,” the ginger said, standing straighter before rushing off, and the name alone nearly left you gasping for breath. 

Jake. 

A tanned arm came down on the bar to your left and before you could even see him you heard his voice. “Witty. About time a girl like you came around.” 

You turned to see him in all of his glory. Green flight suit unzipped just enough to show off his tanned, glistening chest, dog tags swinging from his impossibly taunt neck. His mouth turned up in a brilliant smile that immediately faltered when he realized who you were. 

“Y/N,” he breathed. 

You set the burger down and wiped your fingers with a napkin. “Hangman.” He winced at your use of his call sign. “Been a long time.” 

“Five years,” he said, without missing a beat. He looked you up and down, not in a leering way but like he genuinely was trying to memorize every change in your body that had happened since the night he left. You wondered if you looked different when he wasn’t looking at you in the rearview mirror. “You look good.” 

You crossed your legs, suddenly feeling silly for still wearing scrubs at a Navy bar but you had been too tired and too hungry to change after the shift change started. “I’d say you too, but any ego boost might just make you combust and I heard the Navy doesn’t like it when they waste money on performative assholes.” It came out sharper than you anticipated, but he chuckled. 

“It’s nice to see you, too,” he said softly. In that moment it was Jake, not Hangman speaking. Jake, the boy who had been riding shotgun the day you got your driver's license and subsequently crashed into a neighbor’s mailbox. Jake, who had taught your little sister how to fish. Jake, who had held your hand the day they buried your mother. Jake, who had walked out of your life five years before with no regard for how you felt. Jake, who’s name you cursed at night when you couldn’t sleep. It had always been Jake. Until it wasn’t.

“I’d say the same, but I have a date with this burger, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving us alone that’d be great.” 

He inched closer until his lips were brushing the hair behind your ear. “Y/N, don’t be like this. Can we talk?” 

You frowned and your hands shook as you lifted the burger again and took a wide bite. He pulled back to look at you and you took your sweet time chewing and taking a swig of beer to wash it down. Finally, “Nothing to talk about, Hangman. I’m sure your friends over there are wondering where you’ve gone off to, and I have a shower at home calling my name.” 

His face, those beautiful Adonis-like features, drooped. “Bunny.” The pet name stung rolling off of his lips.

You held up a hand. “Don’t even. You lost the right to call me that a long time ago.” 

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He paused. And then, “It’s good to see you, Y/N.” 

Jake gave you his best puppy eyes, and it took everything you had to turn away. “See you later, Jake.” 

He hesitated, and just as you thought he was going to leave you felt his lips press softly to your cheek. “Proud of you, baby,” he whispered, pinching the fabric of your scrub top on the upper arm where you had it layered over a tight white long-sleeve shirt. He smelled the same and even though the bar was crowded and reeked of stale fries and spilled beer you could still identify every note of him within seconds. You hated it, but his proximity, his smell, flooded every nerve ending in your body. And a part of you wanted nothing more than to reach up and press your lips to his before he could pull away. Taste him to see if he still tasted the same as when you were sixteen and drinking his dad’s beer on the roof. If he tasted the same as the adrenaline rush from the first time you two went skinny dipping in the creek. If he still tasted like the dirty vodka martinis you would drink in college while visiting him on break, pretending to be adults but still very much two sheltered kids with no real world experience. 

And then he was gone, back to his group near the corner of the room. You saw a few of the other aviators look at you for a second too long as Hangman made his reappearance. One, a dark-haired woman, sized you up for so long you got goosebumps before finally turning away. 

“I see you’ve met Hangman.” The woman behind the bar set a fresh beer down in front of you. 

You sighed. “Yes, I have.” 

She gave him a long look before turning back to you. “He’s not as bad as you think.” 

You shook your head. “He’s not. And that’s the problem.” 

The bartender flicked her eyes over you and then back to Jake. “I’m Penny, by the way” she said, taking your credit card from where you had laid it on the wood bar. “Let me close you out.”

You smiled and told her your name, and she disappeared with your card and a knowing smile. You sighed, pushing away the plate of food and guzzling down the second beer. 

Just your luck. You had vaguely kept track of where Jake was stationed all these years. Your grandmother had mentioned he was at Top Gun out on North Island, but it hadn’t clicked until you heard his sweet Texas accent creeping into every single one of your pores earlier that night. Of course out of all the hospitals you landed a residency at UCSD, not ten miles from Jake. 

The air was warm but not swampy as you expected. The headlights on your car sprung to life, and you were just about to open the door when you heard him. 

“BUNNY!” 

Closing your eyes briefly, you turned to see what mess Jake had made. He stumbled out of the bar, giddy with liquor, followed by a cohort of aviators in matching jumpsuits. 

“Hangman,” you said sharply. “Go home. You’re drunk and smell like shit.” 

A few of the aviators in the back hollered and you watched Jake’s dopey smile tilt. “Hey, that’s not very nice, baby.” “I’m not your baby and I’m not your Bunny,” you replied as the group edged closer. “Not anymore.” 

The raven haired female from earlier had her hand on Jake, holding him upright. “I’m sorry about him, I don’t know what happened. We looked away for a minute.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. That’s his problem, not yours.” 

Jake lurched forward and the brunette pulled him back, with the help of a handsome, bespeckled aviator. “Come on, Y/N, just one drink.” 

You laughed. “I think you’ve had enough drinks to get the whole Navy drunk, all by yourself.” 

“I’m Phoenix,” the brunette said and you nodded. 

“Y/N.”

“I gathered.” She looked down at Jake who was still being supported by Phoenix and the guy with glasses. “That’s Bob,” she nodded toward glasses. “Fanboy, Payback, Coyote, Rooster.” 

“Hey guys,” you said. “Do you need help with him, or what?” 

“He got up and started running out the door when he saw you leave,” Rooster said. “We were worried he’d knock himself out trying to get to you, so thought it would be best if he got escorted out.” 

You sighed and ran your hand through the front pieces of your hair. “Listen, Jake,” you whispered and he perked up hearing his name falling out of your mouth. “It’s been a long night, OK? For both of us. Just go home. Please” 

“Not before we talk,” he slurred, leaning forward and slipping past Phoenix and Bob. You stepped forward and caught him, stumbling a bit at his weight. He towered over you by at least eight inches, and he smelled like the bottom of a barrel. 

“You need to shower and sleep,” you said and you felt his hands, those familiar hands, melt into your back. Your fingers pressed tightly against his rock hard abdomen. “Doctor’s orders.” 

He chuckled lightly and you pressed him away from you until he was standing unsupported, Bob and Rooster hovering behind him in case he fell. “Doctor. You fucking did it.” 

You nodded with a small blush on your cheeks. “So did you.” He looked down at his olive jumpsuit as if seeing it for the first time. 

“I fucking did,” he bellowed and the group gave a laugh. 

“Night, guys,” you said, unlocking the door again. “Goodnight, Hangman.” 

“Don’t go,” he begged. You sighed again. You knew Jake. He wouldn’t give up. You could see it in Rooster’s eyes too. They all knew Jake got what he wanted, one way or another. 

“Does anyone know where he lives?” you asked. 

Bob nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I can send it to you if you’d like.” 

You took the phone that he offered and typed in your number, and a moment later a text popped up with a dropped pin. 

“Alright, let’s get you home Hangman,” you said as Bob and Rooster guided Jake to the passenger side of your car and tucked him into the seat. The group hovered around while Jake immediately lolled his head against the window. “Thanks, guys. Appreciate it.”

“Not to pry,” Phoenix said, but that was indeed what she was doing and she knew it. “But how do you know Bagman?”

You grimaced. “It’s a long story.”

“We got time,” Rooster said, crossing his arms over his chest. For the first time you noticed he was the only one out of uniform, in a pair of low strung jeans and a God awful Hawaiian shirt open a little too far for your taste. 

You laughed. “Let’s just say we’ve known each other since we were kids. He’s just Jake to me. This,” you swept your arm toward the car where he was passed out, “is a new asshole that I am not so familiar with.” 

“Have to say, we’ve never seen him act like this before,” Phoenix said, giving Jake a look that for a second almost had tenderness running through it. And in a moment it was gone. “You two must have some serious history.” 

Your hand was on the door handle to the car. “That’s one way to say it. Goodnight.” 

There was a chorus of goodbyes as you ducked into the driver’s seat and started the car, a new BMW 5 series convertible you bought yourself as a reward for finishing your intern year. Once the match came through for the residency at UC you immediately started to daydream about flying down the PCH in a little white convertible. It was only a few days old, but now it would be forever tainted with the knowledge that Jake Seresin was the first person to sit in the passenger seat. 

“Mmm,” he muttered and you shushed him before tapping on the GPS coordinates Bob had sent you. It was only a ten minute drive, but you took the roads slow, fearing Jake would get sick in his drunken stupor and even further christen your brand new car. 

You pulled up to the house, a small white rambler with perfectly mowed grass, and cut the engine. It was a sweet little house, and you wondered briefly if he lived alone. Or if you’d find a girlfriend, angry, red in the face, on the other side of the door. 

“Come on big boy,” you said quietly, pulling open the door and nudging Jake awake. You had to tug on his arm to get him to stand, and when you dug your hand into his pocket for his keys he reached up and grabbed your chin with his hand. 

“Looking for something?” he asked seductively. 

“Shut up,” you grunted, pushing his palm away and fussing with the keyring. The first two didn’t fit, but the third slid easily into the chamber and you turned the lock with bated breath, waiting for an alarm or a girlfriend to scream at you. 

Instead you were met with silence. It was obvious he lived alone. No second set of shoes at the door, no framed photos of him with women besides his mother and sisters. A fresh aroma flooded your senses, and you dragged Jake in by his collar. He stumbled in and you slammed the door, peering around to get your bearings. It was small, but quaint and neat, everything you expected from Jake. Even as kids he always made his bed, corners tucked, and his bathroom had been neater than yours. And later, in college, when you had lived off of instant coffee and ramen, organic chemistry books lined your shelves alongside tubes of dried mascara and half-drunk bottles of vodka in a mess that made his mind boggle. Jake had stepped into your junior year dorm with eyes wide at the disarray. Your visit to see him in Annapolis cleared up why: his sheets were pristine, his shoes lined up perfectly against the wall, his uniforms hung crisp in a closet that, unlike yours, did not have anything crumbled at the bottom in heaps so large they obstructured the hanging items. 

You wandered down the hall, Jake at your heels, and found yourself in a kitchen with a round table in the middle. Jake immediately sat down, scraping a wooden chair back so he could collapse into it. You found two glasses and poured water into them, sliding one toward him. “Drink.” 

He groaned and reached out for the cup. Just beyond the kitchen you saw a small hallway with a door ajar. When you pushed past it you saw Jake’s room, neat as always. 

Back in the kitchen, Jake was more alert than in the car. He had one leg crossed over his opposite knee, and was trying fruitlessly to undo the tightly tied laces. You knelt down and pushed his hands away, deftly undoing the boot and pulling it off his large foot. The other shoe came off and you pulled him to standing. 

“Alright, bud, time for bed.” 

Jake reached out, both hands coming to the sides of your face. “Fuck, I missed you.” 

“Not tonight, Jake,” you whispered. “Come on.” 

To his credit, he followed you dutily to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. You sighed and stood in front of him, carefully unzipping his flight suit down his chest, sliding it off of his shoulders to reveal his undershirt that you peeled off. Once the suit was down to his waist you bent over and tugged it from around him until it was down his legs. 

Jake sat in only a pair of dark boxers and socks on the bed, looking up at you. He looked better than before. Muscles rippling under glowy, tanned skin. Like an Abercrombie & Fitch model that you would have thirsted after in middle school. But he was still Jake and no matter how badly you wanted to smooth your hands over his skin, kiss a trail from his neck to where his boxers skimmed his hip bones, you didn’t. You knew the trouble that would lead to.

“I would say shower, but you don’t seem up for it.” 

He shook his head. “Not tonight,” he echoed your words back to you. His hands reached up to grip your waist as you stood in front of him, and a chill ran down your spine. How could you feel him this plainly even with two layers of fabric between you? 

“You’re here.” There was a thread of disbelief in his voice. Almost a stutter. 

“It’s time for bed,” you said, peeling his hands off of you and forcing down the covers from their tight tuck near the pillows. “Come on, get in.” 

Jake crawled under the covers and rolled onto his left side. You went to walk away, and he reached out to grab your wrist. “Thank you.” 

It was uncharacteristic of Jake. He wasn’t a thank you or a please kind of guy. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. But sometimes you saw the glimmer of the little boy he had been. It made your heart pang for someone you lost. Someone you had long ago convinced yourself no longer existed. 

Instead, you brushed your hand over his hair and cheek and watched him melt into the bed. The clock on his nightstand said it was nearly two in the morning. You had been awake for almost thirty-six hours at that point, and the idea of driving back to your condo sounded like a nightmare. In Jake’s walk-in closet, you pulled out a large Naval Academy t-shirt and slipped it on. It hung to your knees, covering everything it needed to, and you stopped searching for a pair of bottoms. Tip toeing past him to the bathroom in the hall, you brushed your hair back into a sloppy bun and wiped away the mascara that had accumulated under your tired eyes. 

By the time you exited the bathroom, you could hear Jake’s soft snores. In the kitchen, you emptied both cups of water and left them in the spotless sink. The living room was small but cozy, with a three-seater couch and a throw blanket slung over the back. A real fireplace against the far wall held a mantle littered with photos, and despite the tug of sleep against your eyes you wandered over to them. Several of Jake as a child at his grandparents’ ranch outside Austin. One of the full Seresin family smiling in matching Christmas sweaters. A photo of Jake and his mother Pearl smiling wide at his commencement ceremony from the Naval Academy. Your fingers aimlessly picked at the hem of the shirt you were wearing. Just as you were about to turn away, finally lie down, you spotted it. Slotted behind a few other frames so it was just barely visible, there was the photo of the two of you taken at the beach, spring break of your senior year of college. Jake’s parents had invited you two down to Kiawah Island to stay at their beach house, but at the last minute they had to stay back in Austin for work so it had just been the two of you all alone in the big house by yourselves. It was the first time you felt like a real couple, playing house for days on end. Waking up to the smell of fried eggs and bacon and Jake pulling you out of slumber by pressing his thumbs into the arches of your foot. Driving over the bridge to the nearby Harris Teeter for groceries and playfully swatting at him to drop two kinds of sugar cereal in favor of just one as a treat. How the sun had beat down on you until you felt like your skin would melt, and you’d go inside and mix together margaritas for the two of you to drink on the deck, your feet swinging in the pool. Those six days had felt like an eternity. Jake drove you out to the north end of the island that last night for drinks and dinner at The Beach Club. As the sun dipped below the watery lip of the horizon, you told him you had been accepted into medical school in Boston. You watched as his face crumpled, even as he tried to hide it. It meant another four years apart. He took your hands in his and smiled and ordered a celebratory dessert. Told you how proud he was. 

Two months later, it all fell apart. 

In the photo, Jake has his arms wrapped around you from behind and your head is tipped back to smile at him. The sun is glowing on your cheeks, the water behind you sparkling, the sand white and soft and if you closed your eyes you could almost feel it between your toes. 

He has no idea, but you have the same photo framed. It’s the first item you unpack in every new apartment. It’s the last time you can remember being truly happy without a scalpel in your hand or without the beat of a heart thundering through a stethoscope into your ear. 

The light streaming in on your face was worse than any beeper wakeup. You tried to roll over to stop the beam from landing right across your eyes, but the couch was too damn small and you ended up rolling off the side onto the hardwood floor. 

“Fuck!”

You were still on the ground when you heard footsteps and when you looked up there was Jake wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight shirt standing above you with the demonic rays of sun illuminating him from behind like an angel. “Come on, you klutz,” he said, holding out a hand. You flung it toward him and he pulled you up effortlessly. 

It wasn’t fair that he looked perfect after drinking the entire bar under the table the night before. His hair was perfectly tousled and he smelled clean, like he had showered. Judging by the smell from the kitchen, he had made coffee too. You followed him wordlessly into the kitchen and slumped into the chair he had vacated only a few hours before as he slid a blue mug of coffee toward you, already topped with milk, exactly how you liked it. “Drink,” he said, smirking at the irony. You took a sip of the steaming coffee and sighed. 

Jake sat down across from you at the small wooden table. 

“Have to admit I’m surprised to see you stayed,” he said. “And also I’m sorry for being the world’s biggest ass last night.”

You smiled into the coffee cup. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was too damn tired to drive home. I can sleep anywhere after intern year. A couch is a hell of a lot better than some of the chairs I’ve fallen asleep in. Or worse, patient gurneys.” 

He laughed and it rang out into the quiet house. 

“Besides, I thought there was a high chance you’d choke on your own vomit and I don't want my medical license revoked for manslaughter.” 

Jake put his hand over his heart. “I’m touched you think so highly of me.” 

You shot him a glare and went back to sipping the coffee, crossing one leg over the other. It wasn’t until Jake’s eye line focused on your bare thigh that you realized how little clothes you were really wearing. 

“I should get going,” you said, standing up and dumping out the rest of the coffee in the sink and rinsing the cup. 

Jake rose from the table. “Let me drive you home.”

“I drove you here last night?” you said and that dawned on him slowly. He smacked a palm to his forehead. 

“Shit,” he whispered. 

“What?”

“My truck,” he sighed. “It’s still at the Hard Deck.” 

You shook your head. “I asked Bob last night to bring it by.” Walking over to the window, you peered out across the driveway and saw Jake’s cherished black Wrangler sitting in the driveway. A short text on your phone from Bob confirmed the key was under the front mat. 

“You always knew exactly what to do. I missed that about you.” He paused. “I miss everything about you.” You turned around quickly before he could cross the room and do something you’d both regret. 

“Jake.” It came out in a plea. “Let’s not do this, OK? Not again. Last night was a coincidence.”

“Or fate.”

“It was a coincidence,” you repeated, starting down the hall to his room where you had left your scrubs. Jake watched in silence from the door frame as you pulled on your pants underneath the baggy t-shirt, scooping up the discarded scrub top and long sleeve shirt into your arms and breezing past him. “Let’s just pretend you never saw me.” 

“That’s impossible,” he said, following you as you picked up your purse from where you had laid it near the coffee table. “Y/N.” His fingers reached out and brushed your arm and you were shocked that the electricity was still there. 

“Jake.” He knew from your tone. His hand dropped and he watched as you took a step toward the front door. You opened the door and bent down, retrieving the Jeep key from under the mat and tossing it to him. He caught it in one hand. “I’ll drop your shirt off later.” 

“Keep it.” Jake pressed both hands to either side of the open door frame, the bright light of the early sun blinding him a little. Beyond, he could see you rushing down the steps. 

You paused before you got in your car. It felt like no time had passed since that day you watched him drive away. The same truck that had faded off into the Texas sun all those years ago sat fifteen feet away, and it felt like you were losing him all over again. The lump in your throat was back. 

“Bunny.” His voice cracked on the nickname. He looked miserable, standing there on the doorstep. But this time you were leaving him behind. Maybe this time he would know what it was like to watch the person he loved leave without a care in the world. Except you did care. You just didn’t want to. 

“Goodbye, Jake.” 

************************************************************************

Read part 2 here and part 3 here

#top gun maverick imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #hangman top gun #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction

[callsigns-haze]

That Lavender Haze….

THIS IS REPOSTED FROM MY OLD BLOG!

A/n: This is the first post to my new blog so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/n 'Haze' Mitchell

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Y/N has always got broken by the person she goes back to. Driving up to her wingman's house every time might sound crazy but the both of them are stuck in that haze…

Warning: Smut, heart breaks and a bit of angst

Based of the song: Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift

You ought not have driven here, outside of your wingman's and his best friends apartment. You shouldn't have climbed the four floors and walked right down the gray hallway. You definitely ought not be knocking on their front door, hoping he's home to temporarily put you back together.

This is wrong, you know it is. But this was likely to happen. You always come to Hangman, seeking the love and attention you've been stolen of.

This is a unnatural thing, it's normal for the both of you. To everyone else, the connection you have with Jake seems cruel and one-sided.

That's why when the door swings open and dark brown eyes cut into slits at the sight of you, you drop your eyes and look down at your slick hands.

"What?" Coyote asks, tone cross as he keeps the door cracked. You keep your eyes low and chew on your bottom lip.

"You know why I'm here." Your voice is broken, tears still in your eyes, accompanying the sobs caught in your throat.

"I do." Javy says.

You sigh and take a deep breath.

"I'm not as bad as you seem to think I am, Coyote." You say, staring down at your thumbs hoping he doesn't retaliate with his usual scoff and roll of the eyes.

Instead, he exhales in a huff.

"Why do you do this?" He questions, a hint of pleading in his inquiry.

"I need him…" You whisper, feeling the guilt and selfishness curl around each word.

"But you've got a boyfriend." He tries reasoning with you. "You know he can't date anyone because he waits around for the next time he'll have to take care of you, right? Why not just leave your cunt of a boyfriend and be with Jake?"

You feel the air whisp around you as Javy throws his hands up, frustrated with the situation. His anger can only grow with your response.

"I need him, too. I love him and I can't leave." You explain, every bit ridden with tragic truth. Without seeing Coyotes' face, you can hear the disapproval swimming around in his mind and it adds to the ache in your torso; the edges of the hole widening and stinging as you wrap your arms around yourself, a feeble attempt at keeping yourself whole.

"Please," you whisper, properly holding Javy' cold, cobalt gaze for the first time since he's opened Jake's door, "just let me in. Please."

He stares into your hollowed eyes for a long moment, an exasperated sigh heaving in his chest, but steps aside to let you into Hangman's apartment.

"I know he'll hate me if I refuse you." He says, shaking his head. "He's sleeping on the couch in the living room, I'm leaving." Coyote grabs his keys from the breakfast bar, then he's gone.

You drop your bag and jacket on the floor and head towards the living room, finding a deep sleep Jake sprawled out on his sofa. Just the sight of him reels in the pain of what's happened earlier, but not enough to numb it.

Kneeling down, you push his blonde hairs from his face, scratching his scalp as you go. A contented sigh blows through his nose, causing you to smile at his peaceful state.

"Jake…" You whisper, leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. He stirs a bit but his eyes stay closed. You press your lips to his and run your nose along his chin.

"Hangman, wake up." You breathe. His eyes flutter as an agitated groan sounds in his throat.

"Fuck off, Coyote," He murmurs, batting you away. "We can finish the movie later, I'm tired."

"I'm not Javy, cowboy." You say, poking his nose so that he opens his eyes fully, smiling wide once he realizes who's woken him.

"Hey, angel," He half yawns, stretching like a massive cat. He sits up, shaking his hair around, then looks at you. Really looks at you.

"What's happened?" He asks as you rise to sit next to him on the sofa, your legs laying across his lap and his hands resting on your thighs.

"It's nothing. I just popped by." Your attempt to sound nonchalant falters, your voice cracking due to the amount of time you spent crying on the way there.

"Nothing? Really, Haze? Have you forgotten how well I know you?" He questions, glancing at the clock on the cable box, then eyeing you suspiciously. "Or maybe the fact that you're "popping by" at half passed midnight?"

"It's fine, Jake. I'll be fine." You mutter.

"Your eyes are red and puffy, your cheeks are tear stained, and your arms are wrapped around your middle like you're trying to hold yourself together." Jake observes, scooping you up and into his lap. He lays his head on your shoulder and places soft kisses on your neck as he rubs your back.

"I don't want to say." You breathe, sniffing as images of your boyfriend intimately touching another woman cloud your memory.

"Shhh, it's okay. You don't have to tell me." He coos, turning your face towards his. He runs an index finger down your jawbone before brushing his lips against yours.

"I'll take care of you." He whispers, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll make you forget."

The warmth of his lips press to yours, surging comfort and safety throughout your body. His hands run over your back and thighs, the hole in your chest already starting to close. Jake pulls back, eyes furrowed and breath jagged.

"Be mine…just for tonight. Just for a few hours." He murmurs, wiping away your tears kissing you softly. You nod your head, melding your lips together as he cradles your body to his chest and lifts you, starting towards his bedroom.

This is where the cycle repeats itself. You get hurt, you run to Jake, Jake makes love to you, you leave him to go back to the one causing the pain. It's a backwards agreement, made years before. Hangman's always been there, always volunteering to pick up the pieces and fill in the cracks.

And you know why.

It's in the way he touches you, the way he stares into your eyes with the utmost sincerity. The way he held you when your first pet died, the way he walked you home everyday after school, even though you didn't go to the same one. The way he cradled your face in both hands when he gave you your first kiss.

And you know it's killing him.

It's in the way his face fell when you told him about your first boyfriend, the way he didn't want to know about your first time. The way he drags his feet every time he walks you to his door, riding out the kiss goodbye with a languid pull of his lips. The way he takes his time with you, savoring every second he gets to spend expertly navigating about your body. No one knows your body like he does, not even the man you love.

Even with this knowledge, you still return to him; eyes puffy, nose sniffling, and in need of a good cuddle. But it's never been just a cuddle. Never been Jake holding his best friend until she cries away the pain.

It's always been Jake making love to the woman he adores, chasing the pain away. It's wrong, and it's morally backwards, but you can't let it go. You need his unrequited love just like he needs to take care of you, it works for you both.

So here you are, sat on Jake's lap as he sits on the edge of his bed, lips smacking together as hips grind. His fingers slip underneath your shirt, caressing the taut skin as he lifts the fabric up and off. You do the same, pressing your lips to his newly exposed collarbone and scratching your nails down his stomach. He moans into your skin, sucking on the heated flesh of your shoulder as he undoes the button and fly of your jeans. He gently slides you off of his lap, standing to remove his own sweatpants. You start to do the same but he stops you, batting your hands away.

"I'll be doing that." He says, licking your lips before kissing you with a new determination. He breaks away, holding your stare as he stands straight, hooking his thumbs in his gray boxer briefs and sliding them down his lean legs.

His cock springs free, taking your attention as it thumps against his stomach.

Jake kneels in front of you, carefully removing each sneaker from your feet, followed by your socks. He rises, bringing you with him to lift you in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. A shudder runs over you both as his dick presses against your moistening center through your jeans. His lips find yours, hands cupping your backside as he climbs on to the bed, laying you beneath him.

He sits back on his heels, eyes locked with yours as he removes your jeans. You bite your bottom lip as he mouths at your ankle, lips ascending up your calf, tongue licking at the inside of your knee. He does the same with the other leg, venturing up your inner thigh and nipping at your sensitive skin. His verdigris gaze holds your own as he closes his mouth around your clothed center, hot breath washing over the intense sensitivity. Your back arches, hands gripping your breasts as pleasure pools in your belly.

"Please…" you whimper, grinding your yourself on his mouth. He doesn't hesitate to rid you of your underwear, immediately spreading your lips apart and licking at your clit. His tongue glides along the length of your core and he hums in appreciation, closing his eyes at the taste of your arousal.

You claw at the sheets, watching as Jake loses himself in pleasuring you.

Your fingers run through russet ringlets, nails scratching at his scalp and his eyes roll back. Your eyebrows pull together, sending Jake a silent plea. He knows what it means, so it's no surprise when he detaches himself from your soaking core with a loud smack of his lips, parting with one last lick over your entrance. His tongue slides up your tightening stomach, lips nipping and sucking at taut skin as you try catching your breath.

Jake kisses at your breasts, teeth coming down over each clothed nipple. His hands slide under your back, unclasping your bra and tossing it somewhere off to the side. You yelp as he sucks a hard nipple into his mouth, tongue circling the risen flesh. You pull at his curls and he sighs, sucking harder.

"Jake!" You holler, grinding your drenched center along his stiff shaft. He moans loudly, releasing your nipple and capturing your lips into a deep, lust driven kiss.

"Jake, please…" you whisper against his lips, and he needs no further instruction.

He lines himself at your entrance, covering his lips with yours as he slips inside you. His girth stretches you, his length making you feel full as he bottoms out.

"I've missed being inside you, Haze." He murmurs, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your jaw as he groans. "God, you're so tight for me."

Your thighs hug his waist, hands gripping his wide shoulders while he grinds around inside you. Your boyfriend is nowhere near Jake's size, so he's giving your walls time to adjust to the intrusion.

"Move…" you moan into Jake's ear, lips brushing against his lobe and he shivers. He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at your aroused expression. One hand lays on your cheek as the other grips the sheet by your head.

"Ssshhhit…" he hisses, pulling out halfway, then diving back inside at a leisurely pace.

He holds your eyes, watching your reaction to his tip brushing against that spot deep inside. You lick your lips and hook your hand on the back of his neck, tugging him down to you. He crashes his lips to yours, absorbing your moans while trading a few of his own.

As you start to think of how much you wish Jake would venture a bit deeper and pick up the pace, Jake's lips pull away. He lifts his upper body, holding himself up on his hands, placed on either side of your head, and drives into you with a new, shaper force.

Hangman's length delves into your warmth, not stopping until he's fully sheathed inside with his pelvic bone greeting yours. A delighted groan sounds in your throat, not making it passed your lips as you've taken the lower between your teeth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he swivels his hips, grinding the tip of his cock against your g-spot.

"Fuck…" He sighs, reveling in the moisture of your tight confines as he pulls back just a bit, delivering short, forceful thrusts in that way your body's craved. Your eyes open to see a darkened shade of jade, his mouth agape as he pleasures you both and watches your reactions to his every move, groaning when you squeeze around his shaft, taken by the sight of him.

You silently thank your best friend for having the uncanny ability to know exactly what you want, when you want it, and how; tangling your fingers in his hair and claiming his rosy lips. He kisses you back with great fervor, relishing in your gratitude as he increases the length of his strokes, pulling out until just the tip, then thrusting back in with powerful determination.

He pushes his knees up and under your lower back, raising your abdomen, now leveled with his groin. The thrusts are impossibly deeper this way, your muffled cries rising a few octaves as a large knot forms in your belly. Jake sucks your tongue, growling when your nails dig into the skin of his back, prompting him to go faster and harder. He breaks away from your lips, groaning incessantly as your body starts to quiver. Pressing his forehead to yours, reaches between the two of you to circle your clit with his middle finger.

"Yes, angel," he pants, kissing you chastely and repeatedly pounding into you,"cum for me."

The pressure on your clit sends you right over the edge, back arching and toes curling as you give in to your erupting climax.

Your orgasm exploding around Jake's cock makes him reach his own climax, teeth digging into your throat as he growls and white-knuckles the sheets. His cum spills inside of you, the sensation eliciting a contented moan from your own lips. No one can do that but Jake, not even the man you love.

The man you think you love.

The man you've left at home to come lay in Jake's bed.

Jake's lips sponge feather light kisses along your shoulder, silently asking if you're okay. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze, assuring him you're just fine, especially in his arms.

You're clothes are on, your keys twirling in your hand as you lean against your wingman's front door. He stands a couple of feet away, kicking at the carpet with his naked feet, sweatpants hung low on his hips and wet hair smoothed back. You push yourself off of his door, walking over to him and laying your head on his bare chest to listen to his heart as your arms simultaneously encircle each other.

"You know who it beats for." Jake whispers, tangling his fingers in your hair. You nod, turning your face towards his and allowing him to mold his lips to yours.

The kiss deepens when he pushes his tongue past your teeth, walking forward until your back is pressed to his front door once again. He moans into the kiss, hands roaming your body as yours rest in his damp curls.

He pulls away and buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose affectionately nudging your head to the side so he can kiss the searing skin there.

You feel it before he says it. The adoration, the undying dedication, the promise to never give up on this wayward friendship.

"I'll always be waiting." He whispers, kissing your ear, then softly kissing your lips.

"Come back to me." He says, like always.

"You know I will." You say, tracing the outline of his bottom lip before turning around and unlocking the door.

Neither of you choose to speak on how sad the legitimacy of that statement really is.

But that was 7 years ago and that was the first time you never came back…

A/n: And this is the first post for Haze and Hangman! Please reblog this post and give them love! Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist and follow this blog since we're only getting started!

Tagging some friends:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@rosiahills22

@horseslovers2016

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

#jake seresin #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #hangman imagine #hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin x you #hangman smut #hangman x y/n #top gun maverick #hangman x you

[the-psyco-simp]

Through your love, I’m saved

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani

“I’ve heard of a love that comes, once in a lifetime. And I’m pretty sure that you are, that love of mine…”

Synopsis: Ran can’t help but give in when you ask him to stay in bed with you in the morning.

CW: none, just pure fluff, pet names (baby girl, love), probably some angst

Word Count: 883

Authors Note: This is just something I thought up while unable to sleep last night, and it’s dedicated to @sweet-seishu come get your mans 👀 (for the full effect, listen to “Dandelions (slowed and reverb) by Ruth B. It will make you cry)

The sound of your husband’s alarm going off brings you out of your dreamland and into the land of waking. You hear Ran groan and feel the bed move as he reaches to turn it off. You roll over to look at him as he checks the time.

"Ran? Do you really have to leave?" you ask sleepily, putting your arm around him and press your body into his side, trying to convince him to stay in bed with you a little bit longer. It's the same song and dance every day, you want nothing more than to hold your husband close, than him getting up and leaving you alone anyways.

"You know I do. As they say, no rest for the wicked." He looks down at where your head is now resting on his chest. His heart squeezes at the sight of your sad eyes. He wishes he could take the time to just lay with you. To remember the peace, he always feels with you in his arms. But he knows if he gives in now, he won't get out of bed for the rest of the day. He'd give anything in the world to stay under the covers and bask in the warmth and light you've always brought to his dark world.

"Please, love? Just stay here with me a little bit longer. I've missed spending time with you in the morning." You plead, hoping this morning he would give in to you. You tighten your arm around him and nuzzle your face further into his chest.

He maneuvers his arm around your shoulders and sighs, running his figures up and down your arm. He closes his eyes again for a few seconds, trying to harden his resolve to get up and get ready to go into work, when he feels you placing light kisses on his chest.

He can't help but relax under your actions, "Babygirl, if you keep doing that I really won't want to leave, and I gotta go to work." He makes no move to stop you already losing his grip on what little motivation he had.

"That's the point, Ran. I miss you. You're gone all day; you don't get back until two in the morning. I never get to see you anymore." You can feel tears falling out of your eyes. "All I'm asking for here is one day. One day that we spend together like when we were younger." Your figures tracing the tattoo covering the left side of his body.

He can hear the way your voice cracks, and with it so does his heart. Ran knows he hasn't been around much lately, that he's been neglecting you, but he didn't think it was hurting you this much.

He stays quiet for a few seconds contemplating his options. If he calls in, Mikey will chew him out when he gets back, but he would gladly suffer through it to be able to spend the day with you. "I'm sorry I haven't been around, babygirl. I'll make more time for you, I promise." He kisses the top of your head to seal the promise.

"Does that mean you'll cuddle with me?" You look up at him, seeing his beautiful violet eyes looking down at you. The love in them takes your breath away. It had been so long since you saw such a calm joy in their depths.

The smile on his face got bigger as he picked up his phone again, tapping the screen a few times before bringing it to his ear. "Ran?" you asked, trying to figure out what he was doing. Ran held up his finger to ask you to give him a second.

"Hello?" Answers the bored voice on the other end of the call.

"I won't be coming in today, Rin. That gonna be a problem?" Ran hadn't broken eye contact with you, so he could see the way your eyes light up at his words.

Rindou laughed before answering, "Finally taking some time with your girl, huh?" Rin laughed again. "Don't worry about it brother, I'll cover for you today. Say hi to her for me though." His tone was teasing at the end, which made Ran roll his eyes.

"She says hi back, and yeah. Thanks, man. I owe you one." Ran hung up the phone as his brother chuckled again. He set it to the side, keeping his eyes on you.

Ran maneuvered so he could put his hands on your hips and help you to straddle his waist. he laid on his back and looked up at you, admiring the view. With the sun now streaming through the drapes you almost seemed to have a halo over your head. Which thought was perfect, considering he thought of you as an angle sent to save him.

"You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I will spend every second of the rest of my life proving that to you. I love you, babygirl." Ran leaned up to seal his lips with yours, hoping the kiss would say what he could seem to put into words.

You pull away slightly, murmuring, "I love you too, Ran. More than you could ever know." Before putting your lips back on his, smiling into the kiss.

#ran x reader #ran x y/n #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #bonten x reader #bonten smut #ran smut #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #moot: katie 🌙 #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev #x fem!reader #x female reader #emilia.writes🗡

[ghostradiodylan]

So, it's one year after the night at Hacketts Quarry. And everyone's kind of freaking out because, that's what trauma does to you. So basically what would everyone do that night?

Also, thank you for keeping this fandom alive

Ooh this is a fun ask!

Sorry this took so long! I had to chew on it for a bit and then I forgot it in my drafts!

Okay, so it's August 22nd 2022. The moon is cooperating by not being full (it's a waning crescent, to be precise). It's also a Monday and it could be the first day of college/university for anyone going, but let's imagine they all go back a little later since that seems to be the case in the game itself.

We'll imagine everyone survived because otherwise there are fewer of them to talk about and everyone is way sadder. I think one thing they're definitely not doing is going back to Hackett's Quarry in some kind of misguided Until Dawn style return to the scene of the trauma trip. Even if the werewolves are gone, there's still a ghost out there and that's how horror movie sequels get made!

They might do a quick zoom or hit up the group text just to check in, but I don't think they'd necessarily all get together. It would be a little intense for an anniversary, I think.

Max & Laura are endgame, so obviously they're still together, and I'd like to imagine they'd plan a little getaway for themselves (preferably one where Max doesn't have to drive). They'd want it to be something completely unlike the woodsy setting they spent the night in last year. Maybe they'd book a nice hotel for a long weekend not too far from home, just to have a break. Or maybe they'd do something big like take an Alaskan cruise. (Can they afford that as two grad school aged students whose lives just got turned upside down a year ago? Probably not, but it's a nice idea! Maybe if there was a victim's compensation fund or they sold their story to Netflix...) Water all around means zero werewolves! Max will keep comparing their accommodations with those of the North Kill jail, as he will do on every vacation now. ("Look honey, the toilet's in its own room and not an open concept bathroom like the last place we stayed!")

Emma talks about how she wanted to go to the spa after camp in one variation of her scene in the lodge basement, so maybe she'd have a nice pampering session for herself. Mani/pedi, facial treatment, massage, then chilling at home in a fluffy robe and slippers. Kat @itscomingupaces headcanoned Emma acquiring a tiny dog postcanon, which I love, so she probably has a tiny dog in her lap too. Maybe she'd do a brief vlog to reflect on her progress over the course of the year, assuming her viewers have a general idea that something traumatic happened to her and it wasn't all covered up. She'd throw on a comfort movie like Tangled or Singin' in the Rain and get her beauty sleep.

Nick would probably like to forget this anniversary, but I doubt he'd be so lucky in just a year. He has a lot of guilt about the way he treated Abi, though he wasn't really in control at the time. He'd probably try to do something that made him feel good about himself, like volunteer work. I could see him working on a Habitat for Humanity house or walking dogs at an animal shelter. He's almost certainly apologized profusely already, but if he's living anywhere close to Abi, he might offer to take her to dinner. If not, maybe it would be a good time to send her a card. Or an email.

Abi has definitely channeled some of her trauma into her art, so she might take the day to work on a new piece, maybe something a little less based in realism and a little more based in emotion. Maybe she'd incorporate some mixed media or sculpture into it. I go back and forth about shipping her with Emma or with Nick (or neither, or both) but maybe she'd get a manicure with Emma if she's not getting dinner with Nick (she wouldn't be up for the full spa day, though, that's just too much of strangers touching her and talking to her). Or maybe she'd do both, though that would be a lot of doing for our little introvert!

Jacob & Kaitlyn have hopefully patched up any bad feelings stemming from Jacob sabotaging the van because as childhood friends, I think they'd want to help each other when difficult anniversaries like this one come up. I forget who originally suggested it but I now strongly believe the headcanon that they are longtime karaoke buddies and they probably go get a private karaoke room and scream-sing away their angst while getting really embarrassingly drunk. It's fine, they'll get an Uber back to Kaitlyn's and eat an entire pizza later.

Ryan would want to go pay his respects to Chris, Kaylee, and Caleb Hackett. He has very complicated feelings about the family and their role in everyone's nightmare a year ago, but he still has affection for them and feels a duty to remember them as they were when they weren't transforming into flesh-eating monsters. I think he'd want to go visit their gravesites back in North Kill, take them some flowers, and clean off the headstones if the other Hacketts aren't around to do it. I'd like to imagine that he and Dylan would have figured their shit out by then, but whether they're a couple or not I think they'd definitely be in touch and Dylan would probably offer to drive Ryan out there and keep him company if Ryan would let him (if they still haven't gotten together, they probably have some things to talk about).

Dylan picks up some food on his way home, takes an edible, curls up with his cat, and watches the original 80's version of Cosmos with Carl Sagan. It's got a retro futuristic vibe that's very comforting. Some people get anxiety thinking about the vastness of space, but Dylan finds it oddly soothing to think that his problems are actually very small in the grand scheme of things in an ever-expending universe. Ryan can come too, if he wants (he probably does).

#better late than never #I hope #ask bunny #beautiful asks from beautiful people #the quarry #hacketteer headcanons #lauramax #traumaversary #laura kearney #max brinly #emma mountebank #jacob custos #kaitlyn ka #nick furcillo #abigail blyg #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #rylan #radioheads #implied #forgive my blygbank/furblyg/furblygbank indecision #I just want everyone to be happy #whether that means they're coupled/throupled up or not

[lovebaela]

Ice & Fire ༄ pt. 7 (Bran Stark x Targaryen oc fanfic)

⋇ Chapter 7: Craster’s Keep ⋇

Tsireya’s POV

I don’t even know how many days we’ve been walking for. It’s been so long, I didn’t realize how much I’ve grown.

My skin got darker, and my eyes were more clearly brown. My body was more developed as well. I’m slowly becoming a woman, more like my mother. I think the others started to notice too. At times I’d catch the boys staring at me.

I wasn’t the only one growing though. Bran was growing taller, looking more mature. He was taller than me now as well. He was 14 now, only older than me by a month. His skills in warging grew stronger as well, even warging in Hodor at times, a human. With him being gone so much, I grew closer with the Reeds, especially Jojen. We liked to talk about history, specifically Targaryen history.

We continued on with our journey, Jojen said that we had to go find the three-eyed raven Bran saw in his dreams. The farther North we got, the more colder it was. Osha was also right, we’ve seen different creatures that she mentioned was beyond the wall.

I’ve been scared for Bran recently. He likes to warg into Summer a lot. At times, it’s like he would rather be Summer than human. One day, Bran warged into Summer far too long.“You can wake him up now,” Jojen told me. “He’s been gone far too long.”

I quickly get up and start shaking Bran’s body. “Bran.” There’s no response. I shake him harder, “Bran!” Still nothing. “Bran!” I screamed. He suddenly wakened, panting. He got angry with me, “why did you wake me?”

“You were gone for days!” I shout.

“I was hungry…”

“We’re all hungry,” Meera states.

“Well I was just eating!”

“No,” Jojen corrects him. “Summer was eating. Your body can't live on the food your wolf consumes. Spending too much time in Summer's skin is dangerous. You're not a direwolf, Bran.”

Meera offers Bran morsels to eat. He quickly snatched them from her hands and devoured them.

“Bran, if you stay inside Summer for too long you’ll forget what it is to be human…” Jojen warns him.

Bran continued chewing, as if he wasn’t listening to Jojen at all. Angry, I sit in front of Bran making him look me in the eyes.

“Bran, Rȳbagon naejot zirȳla, (Bran, listen to him)” I said. “Kesā nārhēdegon tolvie run, tolvys. Aōha raqirossa. Aōha lentor. Nyke, gaomagon ao drējī jaelagon bona? (You will forget every thing, everyone. Your friends. Your family. Me, do you truly want that?)”

We haven’t spoken in Valyrian to each other in a while, he knew I was being serious. He stared deeply into my eyes, realizing how he’s been acting. “Daor, dōrī,” he replied, placing his hand on mine. “I’m sorry, I just got carried away…” He promised me that he wouldn’t warg into Summer for too long anymore.

I’ve had my own fair share of magic abilities. Recently, I’ve been finding myself hearing voices in my dreams sometimes. I keep seeing dragons in my dreams too. Now, the dreams were back stronger.

In the middle of walking, we find a weirwood tree with a face on it. It reminded me of the one that was in the godswood in Winterfell. Bran reached his hand out to the tree and touched it, making him have a vision. After the vision was done, he lead the rest of the way.

One night, I couldn’t sleep. “What’s wrong?” I heard a voice ask. My eyes leave the fire and I turn to see Jojen. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m just lost.”

“About what?”

“Myself.”

“What’s there to be lost about? You are Tsireya Targaryen. The daughter of dragons. You are blood of the houses that survived the doom! Blood of Old Valyria.”

“I feel them Jojen, I can hear them, see them.”

“Who?”

“Dragons,” I whisper. “I see them them in my sleep. I can feel the flames of their fire and the cold of their ice breath. I don’t know. I’ve always been seeing that same strange dream, since the fall. It’s even more powerful and feels more real now. I want to learn what they mean.”

“You are more powerful than you think,” he tells me, moving closer. “Your egg knows it too.”

“How did you-.”

“I just know,” he answered. “It won’t be an egg forever.” I take my egg out of the bag and stare at it. “When we get to the raven, I’m sure he’ll explain everything.”

“So, you really think I’m special?”

“I know so,” he said, he placed his hand on my cheek. “My princess..”

Jojen leaned his face closer to mine and kissed me. I was surprised, but I didn’t want to push away. As soon as I close my eyes, I saw something strange. I saw Bran! Shocked, I pushed away from him, blushing extremely hard.

“I’m sorry…” I apologize.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said wrapping his arm around me. “I apologize.”

“I didn’t hate it though…” I smile, blushing.

Jojen chuckled, “we should get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

We both go to sleep. Ever since that night, I was a lot more shy with Jojen and he liked to flirt to tease me. Bran has also been a bit cold towards me though, I wonder what’s wrong. As we set up our camp, I ask Bran if we could talk.

We go a bit farther into the cold forest so we can be alone.

“Skoros iksis jāre va? (What’s going on)” I ask him. “skoro syt issi ao issare hae bisa? (Why are you being like this)”

“Pār skori gōntan ao rȳbagon? (Since when did you care)” he snapped back. “You were talking with Jojen just fine before but all of a sudden you’re thinking of me?”

“What does Jojen have to do with this?”

“I saw- well- ugh!” He said, starting to walk away. “Just forget it..”

“No!” I said, stopping his tracks. “No, Bran I want to talk-.”

We hear a strange noise. It sounded like…a baby?

“Did you hear that?” He asked. I nod, “We should go back to the others.”

We go back to the camp and ask them if they heard the same thing. They all agreed.

“I’m going to go check it out,” Bran said.

“Wait,” I tell him, placing my hand on his chest. “What if it’s dangerous?”

“I’ll be okay, trust me.”

Bran wargs into Summer and we watch as the wolf disappeared into the darkness. After a couple of minutes, Bran jumps out of no where. I run to him, holding his hand, “are you okay? What happened?”

“I-It’s Summer, he’s hurt in a trap!” He tells me. “I think they have Jon’s direwolf too, they have Ghost!”

We left the camp to find Summer. Bran led the way, knowing where to go. We finally found the location that was holding Summer and Ghost captive. We hide where no one could see us.

“It’s the Night’s Watch,” Bran said. “Look. Jon might be here.”

“If he were here, why would they have his wolf locked up?” Meera asked.

I stayed silent as I watched the women there, they looked absolutely miserable! Meera and I got the chills as we watched a woman whimpering as one of the men grabbed her.

“I don’t think this place is safe.” I whisper, feeling scared.

Jojen remained silent, he was more quiet than usual.

“We need to go.” Meera said.

“No!” Bran protested.

“Bran, we need to leave.”

“Not without Summer!”

“Bran’s right,” I agreed. “We can’t leave him here!”

Meera sighed, “do you remember where he was?”

“The east side of the keep.” Bran answered.

Meera gets up, “if I’m not back soon, we’ll meet-.” Meera suddenly gets knocked out, dropping to the ground.

“Hodor!” Hodor said, standing up. Before he could do anything, two men pointed their swords at him.

Oh great, we’re surrounded.

The men throw us into the hall tying our hands and legs together. Bran and I were placed against the wall while Meera and Jojen were more in the middle.

We could all hear poor Hodor getting tortured right outside. I start to breath hard, trying not to panic. I am Tsireya Targaryen. I am blood of the dragon, blood of Old Valyria, blood of the Conqueror himself.

Saying that in my head reminded me of someone, Daenerys. I haven’t heard from her in so long. The last time we wrote to each other I was only 10. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were dead, us Targaryen can’t be happy in this world.

I heard Bran whisper, “hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“Bran, I’m so scared.” I confessed. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “In case we don’t make it…I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way earlier. You didn’t deserve that, I’m so sorry. I was the one who was always gone, pushing you away, yet I lashed out on you. I’m a horrible friend.”

“No Bran,” I tell him. “I wasn’t talking to you as much as I did before and I am sorry. You are my family, my Prince…”

Before Bran could respond, the men drag Hodor inside with us. A man, holding a skull in his hand like a wine cup, walks in. One of his minions, it seemed, called him Karl. Karl bends his knees to lower his level to Bran’s. He notices what Bran was wearing under his fur, “this is nice,” he said, touching it. “Fine leather, you’re definitely no wildling.”

I look around the room and see some of the women. A lot of them were bruised badly.

“You’re important, highborn,” Karl continued. “Who are you?”

Bran remained silent with a slight smirk on his face.

Turning quick to anger, Karl stood up and then slapped Bran on the face hard, making his lip bleed, “You see, where I come from, a commoner like me slaps a little lord like you, I’d lose my right hand..”

“Hey!” I yelled. “Leave him alone!”

“Look what we have here,” he said, moving in front of me, “and the little lord’s lady I assume.”

I didn’t respond.

“You look important too,” he chuckled. “You don’t sound like you are from around here…untie her.” The men did as he said and brought me up to my feet. They had a tight grip on me so I wouldn’t try anything. He looked at my hair, “I like your hair.” He began to stroke it with a creepy smirk on his face, “beautiful, silver hair…I could have sons with hair like yours…” chills travelled down my spine.

I look over at Bran, he looked furious, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

Karl looks at Meera, “you’re hair reminds me of my mother, beautiful, soft curls…” Meera didn’t say anything. “Tell me ladies, what are you fancy looking folks doing this far in the woods?” My eyes stared into his, not saying a word.

“Four highborn hostages,” he said, walking away from me, circling us. “That’s a lot of mouths to feed-.”

Jojen starts to shake violently again, freaking the men out. This can’t be good. Meera started to move towards her brother until Karl dragged her back by the hair, “come here!”

“Let me help him,” she pleaded. “Please!”

“Who are you?”

Karl signaled for one of the men to point their sword at me, “who are you?!”

“I’m Brandon Stark!” Bran shouted. “Prince Brandon Stark of Winterfell!”

“He’s Jon Snow’s brother,” one of the men said. Karl drops Meera and she quickly goes to Jojen.

“This is going to be interesting…” Karl smirked. He looks over at me, “you would make a nice addition to my women here. A foreign slave…”

“I am not your slave or your anything!” I snap back, “I am blood of the dragon, Aegon the Conqueror, blood of Old Valyria! If you even try to raise a hand to me, it will be the last time that you have hands and fire will reign upon you!”

The men went silent until they all bursted out laughing at me. I roll my eyes.

“I like her,” Karl told them. “She’s got that fire in her…take her to the other room.” The men yank me to follow them.

“No!” Bran yelled. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

My eyes don’t leave Bran’s, “Bran!” I shout on fear.

“Tsireya!”

Bran’s POV

Oh no, they took Tsireya away…what am I going to do? I never should have yelled at her earlier like that. If I knew this would happen, I never would have spoken to her that way…

The four of us remained in the hall, thinking. I could have sworn I heard a noise, but once I turned my head, it was only the lantern outside moving.

“We must let nothing stop you,” Jojen said.

“They’ve already stopped me,” I replied. “I mean look at me, a Prince who yielded his kingdom, and now a Prince who can’t even protect his friends…Tsireya..”

“She’ll be fine,” he told me. “She’s stronger than you think.”

“I’m still worried for her…” I said. “We need to get her out of there…if that man were to…to…you know, I’d never forgive myself. Because I-I care for her.”

Jojen begins to cough. “You need water,” Meera said.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!”

“This isn’t about me,” Jojen told Meera. “It’s about getting Bran to the three-eyed raven…Tsireya too.” He looks at me, “you’re far from here, at the hill. A great weirwood tree. The three of us in here are only to guide you. You have to make it, both of you.”

I nod, starting to have more hope, “we will.”

Tsireya’s POV

I was taken to a different room with a whole lot more women. They all gasped once they saw m get thrown to the ground. After the men left, I asked the women, “what is this place?”

“Craster’s Keep…we’ll it used to be his until Karl took over,” the eldest woman told me, “I’m so sorry child, he’ll come soon and take you as his.”

“No,” I refused, “I’ll fight him if I have to!”

“He’s too strong…”

I didn’t want to cry, but tears started to form in my eyes. There wasn’t any point in running out, his men are everywhere! Maybe this is the end…I desperately look for anything to defend myself with. The best I could see was a rock, so I grabbed it and put it in my pocket.

Karl walks into the room, “Now where were we?”

I don’t say a word.

“I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” He asked me, holding a bowl of chicken.

I was actually pretty hungry. Without saying a word, I nod in response.

“If you be a good girl for me I’ll let you have one, can you do that?”

I nod again, standing up slowly. He chuckled, “good, now come here.”

I walk slowly to him and get very close, not breaking eye contact, “thank you for the food sir..” I slowly reach into my pocket.

He smirks creepily and placed his hand on my cheek, “there’s the respect I want..” he leans in closer for a kiss.

Before our mouths touched, I whacked him across the head with the rock. He screamed alerting two of his men to run inside. He slapped me across the face so hard I fell down.

“You little bitch!” He shouted. “Grab her now!” The two men grabbed both of my arms.

“Take her back to her friends, they’ll be in for a treat,” he said.

The women gasped saying, “no!”

“You all shut it!”

They dragged me back into the room with the others.

Bran’s face immediately went scared, noticing the red hand mark on my cheek, “Tsireya!”

“Bran!” I yell.

The men chain my hands above my head, letting the rest of my body hang.

“Hodor!” Hodor yelled in concern.

“Leave her alone!” Meera said.

“When I’m through with this one, you’ll be next,” Karl replied to her. He then turned to Bran saying, “your little silver haired lady over here disobeyed me, so now, you’re going to sit there…and watch what I’m going to do to her..”

I was shocked to see the look on Bran’s face, he looked like he wanted to commit murder.

“You will do no such thing,” Bran threatened him, “your time will be up soon.”

“We saw you,” Jojen joined in, “we saw you burn in a fire…the snow falling to bury your bones…” I could tell Karl was a bit shaken up from what they said.

Karl turns back to me with lust in his eyes, “be a good girl and don’t squirm.” I shut my eyes, preparing for what would happen.

Before he could take my clothes off, one of his men from outside barged in, “It’s the Night’s Watch!” They both immediately leave to go fight.

I let out a huge sigh of relief, so did Bran. “Are you okay?” He asked me.

“Yes, I’m okay..” I smile, “but if we don’t get out of here, he’ll come back!”

“But how?” Meera asked.

Suddenly, a man of the Night’s Watch comes in and goes to Bran to untie him, The rescue party is here lads…and ladies.”

“Is Jon with you?” Bran asked.

“Aye,” he answered. “I’ll take you to him.”

We all look at each other, not sure what to think.

“You’re Brandon Stark?” He asked. Bran didn’t respond.

“We’re going to go ride-.”

Bran started yelling Jon’s name until the man cut his leg and covered his mouth, “keep talking, and I’ll cut your friends’ throats. Starting with the girl.” He said looking over at me, “Do you understand?” Bran nods. He started to carry Bran away as I screamed for him.

Hodor started moving back and forth, panicking.

“What do we do?” I asked Meera looking down at her.

“I…I don’t know.”

Hodor’s eyes for a moment go white and then back to normal. Though, it didn’t seem like it was Hodor. It was Bran! I have to admit, Hodor with an angry face was extremely scary. He was able to break loose from his chains and he quickly unchained me before going after his body.

I untie Meera and Jojen, “I’ll be right back!” I run to the other women to warn them, “you all need to leave!”

They all remained still, scared. “Do you guys want to live in this hell hole or do you want to be free? Come on!” I yell. They all start to run outside together. I follow after them until I hear a man go, “hey, you there!” Before I knew it, he tackled me to the ground and straddled me. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked me. “You’re going to pay-.” A sword goes right through his mouth, making his blood go on my face. After I pushed the lifeless body off of me, I look up and see Bran! He honestly looked just as shocked as I was. “Bran?” I asked. For once, instead of his eyes being cold, I saw fire. I didn’t even notice how much I was blushing.

“I-Issi ao sȳz?” He asked me, dropping the bloody sword. He grabbed my shoulders, “Gōntan ziry ōdrikagon ao, Tsireya?!”

“Daor…” I answer. Before he could say anything else, the rest of the gang comes over.

“We need to leave,” Jojen said.

“But Jon is here!” Bran protested, “I want to talk to him-.”

“He’d never let you go see the raven,” Jojen said.

“But..he’s my brother.”

“I know it’s hard Bran, but you need to make your choice.”

Bran stood in silence and then said, “we need to let Summer out of the trap. Then we need to go.”

We all nod and go back to our camp. It was hard for all of us to sleep after all of that. The others finally went to sleep, but I was still awake. I held my egg close to the fire, staring at the flames.

“What’s wrong?” Bran asked me, “can’t sleep?”

“No.” I answer.

“How are you feeling.?”

“I’m still a bit shaken up,” I replied. “For a moment I really thought it was the end.”

“When he took you away, I was so afraid,” he confessed. “Afraid that he would…would- and I just sat there.”

“Oh Bran don’t-.”

“No, he was going to have his way with you as I sat there! When there was nothing I could even do about it…gods he was so close..ever since I was little all I wanted to be was a knight. How can I even be one if I can’t always protect you?”

“Sure, you weren’t able to help me, but that wasn’t your fault Bran!” I tell him, moving closer to take his hand. “But then you saved me from that other man, no one has ever done anything like that for me before…you were so brave,” I lightly blush, “my brave Prince…my knight” I look down at Bran’s cut and rip a piece of my cloth to wrap it around his thigh.

Bran started to turn red, “well w-who wouldn’t have done it…? Just seeing him on top of you like that, I don’t know, something just came over me.”

I place my head on his shoulder and whisper, “I don’t know what I’d do without you Bran.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around me, “same here, you were with me every step of the way. I appreciate you so much for that.”

I held my egg close to me as I slept on Bran’s shoulder, he fell asleep with his arm around me, keeping me warm.

#bran stark #bran stark imagine #bran stark x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #fanfic #house of the dragon #arya stark #jon snow #sansa stark #robb stark #daenerys targaryen #house of the dragon x reader #brandon stark x reader #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones headcanons #got imagine #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen #heleana targaryen #isaac hempstead wright #targaryen imagine

[hotsforharlow]

Okay but imagine jealous jackman over his best friend he brought on tour with him, you. Urban, Jack and you have been thick as thieves since elementary school. When he begs you and wears you down after weeks to join him and urban on his tour because he can’t be away from his best girl and fear some other man will take her away from him and urban while their gone. What he didn’t expect was in every damn city you being hit on by strangers and even fans of his.

AN: Thank you so much for this au that has taken a life of it’s own. I wanted to get something out so it will be split into two parts before I move onto writing other ideas that have come in for this au. I apologise if it’s so bad and jumbled.  I hope you like it x

“Did he finally tire you out?” Neelan couldn’t help but tease as she saw you move into the private plane for their group. You softly rolled your eyes in amusement and faux annoyance, “Just needed him to shut up.” You giggled out. Urban’s arms opened as soon as he saw you and you moved into them. “Glad you are here.” He mumbled into your ear. “Have to keep you boys out of trouble.” You hummed and Urban only chuckled as you placed your bags down. “We are never in trouble.” Jack’s voice entered the conversation as you saw his larger stature move into the plane. “Nobody believes that.” You giggled out and watched his face light up at the sound before you sat down.

Druski and Urban shared a knowing look as Jack just followed you and settled in the seat beside you. “Have you missed me this much?” You couldn’t help but tease as he placed his head on your shoulder; your fingers instantly moving into his curls. “Yes..” A soft smile came over your face and you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. He found himself sleeping better when you were near and soon those blues of his began to flutter softly shut. “Glad you are here.” Urban whispered and you threw him a soft smile. “I don’t know how you’ve survived without me.” You giggled and moved to take out your favourite book to start on as the plane began its ascent.

So maybe the trip wouldn’t be so bad, you thought to yourself.

~

Jh_updates Is this the famous Y/N we’ve heard so much about? Jack Harlow, Urban and co were seen with a familiar looking girl who is always on their socials.

Harlow’swhore I’m sorry..how cute is Jack with her! I’ve never seen him like this, it’s too much. Hope she’s at the KFC opening. “Come on, stink.” Jack wrapped an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close as he moved from the bus that had pulled up outside of KFC. “Jack..” You whined, hating and loving the name in equal measure as you tried to move from his hold. “Remember when we used to come here all the time?” He whispered into your ear, losing himself in the memories. “Yeah, those were quieter times.” You looked up at him, the size difference was always a topic of discussion but you remembered when he was small too. Jack shared your smile and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before moving to where he needed to be. You were glad to have Urban here and you drifted over to him.

“You good?” Urban hummed in your ear, wrapping his arm around you whilst his camera still recorded and took shots. “Yeah, it’s weird, isn’t it.” You whispered into his ear as your eyes took in the moment and the fans were crowding. “Yeah.” Urban chuckled, he never really got over it whilst Jack seemed to take it all in his stride. “Y/N. Come try.” He called out over and you couldn’t stop the blush coming over your face as you moved from Urban. His bright smile only widened when you came closer but he didn’t miss the looks you were receiving. Now he remembered why he hadn’t asked you to come in the early tours but people back home were beginning to recognise you.

“Don’t put the spiciest one on.” You tugged on his arm with those eyes of yours locking onto his. “I won’t..promise.” He whispered, leaning in. You chewed on your bottom lip, only half believing him as you moved to bite the food from his fingers. You didn’t notice the fans subtly taking photos and nearly cooing at the display. You softly hummed and your eyes fluttered for a moment. “Oh, this is delicious.” You whispered with a sweet smile and he moved to pick another wing. Jack would never admit it, but half of this meal was your favourite too. You moved to sip at the drink he handed to you when his name was being called in different directions.

His hand didn’t move from yours as he moved to the crowd of fans. “Hey guys.” Jack waved and moved to talk and take photos. “Is this Y/N?” You heard one fan ask and you couldn’t help but duck your head shyly as Jack waved you over. “Yeah, this is Y/N.” Jack hummed, bringing you into his side. His hand softly stroked your back as you began to chat away.

~

“Just shout if you need me.” Jack called after you as you moved to the bar. You softly shook your head with a giggle at his protectiveness. Your smile widened as he locked eyes with you. Your attention was soon given to the bartender as you began to order. Jack watched, his bad eye twitching more than usual as he just stared and watched you laugh with someone other than him. His eyes moved to his watch and wondered how long you were going to be as he tried to distract himself but as ever, nothing worked. “Just go over to her.” Urban muttered from behind his phone as he tried to find a booty call; Jack presumed anyway. He shot a look at his friend even though he began to walk over to you.  

“Hey, you good?” Jack moved his arm over your shoulder and took the tray of drinks. “Oh, sorry, I got talking.” You babbled and he couldn’t help but completely soften for you. He offered a tight smile to the bartender whilst stroking your hair. “I think Urb wants his drink.” He blamed his friend as he moved you back towards the VIP section. “He’s so impatient.” You hummed, but your tone was soft and full of love for your friend as you moved through the crowd with Jack’s help. “Here you go.” You gave Urban his drink who only raised an eyebrow before tapping away at his phone. 

~

“You know, you didn’t have to walk me back.” You giggled, slightly buzzed from the alcohol but completely aware of everything. “Like I’d let you go alone.” Jack whispered into your ear. He bear hugged you from behind and carried on walking like that. “You are being so clingy.” You whispered up at him, not that you were complaining as you moved to hold his arm. You cuddled closer as you both moved towards the hotel room of yours but Jack subtly changed direction and opened his own door. A confused look came over your face, “Don’t you want to sleep, it’s been a long few days?” You asked in concern, softly stroking his cheek. He leaned into the touch and his eyes fluttered for a moment. 

“Can’t we share a bed, like we used to?” Jack asked and the vulnerability in his tone had your heart aching. You nodded your head before you could even realise it. “Of course.” You smiled and a sense of relief seemed to come over him as he opened the door for you. Taking a deep breath, Jack prepared himself to tell you everything. He couldn’t wait any longer.

#jack harlow x reader #bestfriend au #request

[lis-likes-fics]

I Still Need You

Pairings: Jake Lockley x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader Warnings: Arguing, language (very light), crying... A/N: I spent...maybe an hour and a half on pinterest and stuff looking for pictures so I could make these dividers because Oscar Isaac owns my ass at the moment. Started with like 20ish pins on his board, I now have 55. i chose this pic because i think it can be used synonymously, they all have their individual ones too... i did say i was obsessed.

The shrill beeping of the microwave had your head turning, looking over your shoulder. You removed the bag of fresh popcorn and began to dump it in a large bowl just as you felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around your midsection. You smiled as his face buried in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your skin with a sigh.

“All for me?” he asked with a grin in his tone. You furrowed a brow at Jake’s voice in your ear, turning around in his arms to set your hands over them.

“Jake?”

“Expecting someone else?” he wondered, kissing your lips.

“Yes, actually,” you mumbled. “Where’s Marc?”

He hummed, shrugging lightly and straightening up a little as his hands left your hips. He reached behind you, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn, despite your swatting hand. “Turned in. Por qué?”

Your shoulders slumped as a sinking feeling filled your chest. “We were…” you trailed off, feeling your heart thumping heavily in your ribcage. You just shook your head, “Nevermind. You can take his place.”

You and Marc were supposed to have a movie night. You always watched movies together every other Friday night since it was your last workday of the week. Steven took the other Friday nights, and Jake took Saturday nights because he always worked after your movies ended with Steven or Marc.

Jake shook his head, “Sorry, mi vida. I’ve got to work tonight. Rain check?” He pulled his cap from his back pocket, pulling it over the mess of curls on his head as if to confirm what he said.

You licked your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it absently as you shook your head. You sighed, “Yeah, okay. Whatever, that’s fine.” You grabbed the bowl and walked past Jake, shuffling the popcorn around.

He turned around, looking after you with a furrowed brow. He could feel Steven stirring inside of him, still awake and catching her change in mood. “What’s wrong?” Jake asked, “Did I do something?”

You shook your head, not looking at him as you plopped down on the couch you had already prepared, blankets and pillows thrown onto the cushions for the movies. “No, you didn’t do anything, Jake.”

“Are you sure?” he wondered, still concerned about your sudden change in attitude. You had seemed excited before, and now you were upset and he had no idea why.

You looked over your shoulder at him, “I’m fine. Just go. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

He resigned, his shoulders slumping as he nodded. “Te amo,” he replied, walking over to you and dipping down to press a kiss to your cheek. He hummed, going to the door and plucking the keys from their hook. He gave you another farewell before leaving.

You sat on the couch, your bowl of popcorn in your lap as you flicked through it. You decided to just go to bed shortly after. You didn’t even bother to watch anything. You were tired, and sleeping seemed to really be the only thing for you to do at that moment.

Jake’s night was much longer, especially with the way that he left you. Steven had not gone to sleep, harping in Jake's ear about you.

"Do you think she's okay?" "I wonder why she was upset." "We should go back." "Jake, I'm worried about her." "How can Marc sleep through this?"

The only way Jake could get some time to think by himself was to get Steven to sleep, and it took so long to do that alone. When he was left with only one voice in his head — his own — he thought about you.

As he picked up his late night passengers — some who giggled and cuddled in the back, some who stalled silently and watched the world fly past their windows, some who remained indifferent through the whole ride with their phones shoved in their faces, and some who held back tears as they relayed the address to which they were headed — Jake could not help but wonder what had made you so upset. As he remembered the popcorn you so excited cooked and the scene of blankets you had set up in the living room, it hit him with a sigh as he shook his head.

Marc had forgotten about your date.

It was a wonder how Jake had forgotten as well, he was usually the one making sure the others were on time for things. Of course you had been so upset, Marc had missed your last date as well and Steven had to cancel your own night for a work-related issue the week before.

As the sun began to rise again and the early light of day broke, Jake returned home to see you. As he stepped through the door and made his way to the bedroom in search of you, he paused when he noticed the absence of the outline of your body under the sheets.

"Corazón?" he called into the empty apartment. When there was no response, he stood a little straighter, clenching his fists and searching the house as worry took over him. "Y/N?"

He riled Steven and Marc, waking the both of them to take in the situation. What do you want? Marc stirred grumpily in the back of Jake's head, still only half-conscious.

"Y/N's missing," he stated firmly, turning over blankets and checking the bathroom for any sign of life.

What?!

Both Marc and Steven's voices rang through Jake's mind at the news as he caught them in reflections around the room. "I can't find her. Está perdida."

You were supposed to be watching her! Marc yelled.

Jake? Well, what about you? It was your night to watch movies with her, and you fell asleep, you lazy git!

“Steven’s got a point — and you know I work Friday nights after your movies,” Jake confirmed.

Then why didn’t you or Steven remind me. And Steven canceled last week anyway, I thought he was going to cover this week, it threw me off.

Now it’s my fault? I had to work. You don’t have a job, Marc!

“¡Cállate!” Jake yelled. “I can’t think with you fools yelling in my head.”

Jake!

“What did I say, Steven?”

No, Jake– Look at the fridge!

Jake turned his head, catching sight of the note stuck to the refrigerator by a magnet. He walked over, plucking the piece of blue paper from its place and reading it.

‘Covering a shift. Be back later. Go to sleep, Jake.’

Jake breathed a sigh of relief that you were okay. He almost laughed at your order, folding the note and stuffing it in his pocket. See? She’s alright, Marc sighed. Jake pulled his phone from his back pocket, bringing it to his ear once he had your contact pulled up.

After a few rings, you finally answered the phone, a sigh in your voice as you spoke, “Go to bed, Jake.”

He laughed at that, “Hello to you, too. You could’ve called me. We were wo–”

Jake was interrupted by Steven, who suddenly made his way to the surface and took over the conversation. He seemed almost desperate as he spoke, “Y/N, we were worried sick about you! We thought something happened when Jake couldn’t find you. Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. I’m okay, Steven. Put Jake back on,” you answered.

Steven mumbled after your short response, “Oh, alright, then.”

After a moment, Jake’s voice returned, a silent mumbling of something in Spanish that you didn't quite catch. “I’m fine, guys. Like I said in the note, I’m just covering for a friend. I’ll be back later. Now I have to go before I get fired for being on my phone during the job. So goodbye, and go to sleep, Jake.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Te amo. Ciao.”

“Love you, too.” You hung up after that, leaving nothing else to be discussed as you got back to work without another thought. Jake sighed, looking down at his phone and shaking his head.

“You screwed up big time, gilipollas," he shook his head. Marc grumbled but didn't say anything else. Jake allowed Steven to front after that. He was far too restless, and not even Marc would deny Steven when he was so high-strung, lest he face his kind wrath.

~

When you returned later on that day, you were honestly ready to just go to bed. As you pushed open the door and hung the key up on its hook, it did not seem as though that was what you were going to be doing.

Steven was up and pacing the room, wringing his hands and mumbling to Marc as he waited for you. When he heard you call into the apartment for one of them, his head perked up and he offered a smile. "Hello, love! How was your day?"

You hummed, setting your bag down on your way to the kitchen. "Good."

"Oh, well," he trailed off, thinking to himself. "Since Marc missed your last two dates and I had to cancel last week, why don't we have one for the rest of the day. Just you and me?"

You ran a hand through your hair, shrugging. "I actually… might just go to bed. Kind of tired. Besides, you probably have work or something to catch up on, and I wouldn't want to impose."

Steven frowned, taking a few steps forward. "Oh, are you sure? I don't have any work. I don't work weekends, you know that."

You sighed, more agitated than tired. "Well, I don't know. Maybe Marc does, Steven. Ask him."

"Wha– Er, no. Marc isn't working either. He's actually here, he wanted to make up for it." He motioned over his shoulder, pointing to a hand mirror sitting on the coffee table, one he had been using in order to communicate with Marc easier.

You raised a brow, looking him up and down, "Really, then where is he?"

"Do you want to talk to him?" Steven suggested.

You sighed, closing your eyes a moment as you grabbed a bottle of water. "No, Steven. I don't want to talk to Marc."

"Are you alright, darling? I know Marc's been a total dick lately and–"

"Steven, I'm fine," you urged, shaking your head at his insistence.

He shook his head, walking closer still until only the counter separated you from him. "No, something's wrong. Talk to me. Why don't you want to–"

"I don't want to watch pity movies with you, Steven!" you snapped. It went silent as you both eyed each other. You sighed, looking down at the counter and shaking your head.

"Alright, um… Wait, why 'pity movies'? You called them pity movies," Steven wondered, licking his lips.

You rounded the counter and walked past Steven. "We haven't done a movie night in three weeks, and now you're making one for tonight because of it. I know Jake probably said something to you after last night and you decided to do this, and I appreciate it, but I just don't want to."

Steven ran a hand through his hair. "Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry about last week."

"I'm not mad about last week," you told him. "Or Monday… or Wednesday, or Thursday, or–"

"Alright, it sounds like you are upset about it," he said. "Why won't you let me make it up to you?"

His insistence was wearing on you. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest as your nerves nagged at you, eating away at whatever little patience you had left to try and be gentle with Steven. You had not meant to explode, but everything had built so quickly that you could not help it.

"Because it's too late!"

Steven went silent again. You didn't.

"For weeks, all of you have had something to do every minute of the day. We haven't had our movie nights in three weeks. You've had work at the museum because you won't put your foot down with Donna to stop giving you so much to do. And if you're not at the museum, you're either doing mythology research or you fell asleep. I mean twice this week, she made you do inventory even after you got the tour guide position.

"Marc is so caught up in his 'work' about keeping guys off his back that he's leaving no time to be here with me. He went on a useless patrol last time he forgot and wasted out date night.

"And Jake works nights, so I hardly get to see him to begin with. To put a cherry on top, I also have work so I can't take days that some of you happen to be off. I just…" You angrily wiped at the hot tears that had stung your eyes. They began rolling down your cheeks, despite your effort to hold them back. You sucked in a breath in an attempt to calm it, "Did I do something? Did… Did you just forget about me or something?"

Steven walked up to you, cupping your face in his hands and shaking his head. "No, love. No, of course not! I could never forget about you. I love you!"

Your hands grasped his, pulling his palms away from your face and holding them away from you. You let out a shaky sigh, "Well, it doesn't feel like I've been at the top of your mind, either. I've tried to be understanding but I just… I can't do it anymore, Steven."

He took a step back, and you felt your heart squeeze at the tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I– I tried…" He shook his head, wiping a hand down his face. "I can never do anything right, can I?"

Your lips parted and you took a step forward, "Steven."

"It's alright, I'm gonna… Yeah, I'll see you later," he mumbled. You reached out for him again, but he was gone too quickly. You ran your hands down your face, frustration straining in you.

"Nice," Marc's voice came.

You looked up at him, his insensitive greeting already rubbing you wrong as you scowled at him. "You're one to talk," you huffed. "This is just as much you as it is everyone else, if not more."

"Me?" he jabbed a finger against his own chest. "This is my fault?"

"Yes, it is, Marc. This all started with you," you said. "I don't know if you're avoiding me or if you just don't care, but you're the one who distanced first."

He chuckled, the sound lacked any kind of humor as he shook his head at you. “I distanced from you? All those days I spent ‘avoiding you’ was me trying to make sure you were safe. There are plenty of people in my past who would try to get at me through you, and that’s the last thing I want to happen. That ‘useless patrol’ I went on during our date night was me making an effort to keep you safe because I care about you. So I’m sorry if I didn’t cuddle–”

“You promised me!”

He stopped his rant, his body stilling as he took in your outburst. If you had been holding back tears before, you were not now. They rolled down your cheeks in masses, joining streams and creating new ones that stained your face. Marc’s face was still written in shock, less so by your outburst and more so by the fact that you still were not understanding him. He would take you being upset about him not spending enough time with you than you being dead–

“You promised you loved me…”

Your voice cracked and you gasped as your voice came out in somewhat of a broken whisper. Marc’s face fell, but not in anger or frustration. The look mirrored devastation more than it did disappointment as his shoulders slumped and his lips parted. The tears that gathered in his eyes were heart-wrenching. You hardly had the strength to look at him like that as your gaze fell on the floor.

You shook your head and sniffed, licking your lips, which had become salty from your quiet sobs. “And I believed you… because I love you, too. And I thought that was enough.”

He stepped up to you, taking your face in his hands, just as Steven had done, cradling you and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he nodded. “I do, it is. I do love you, Y/N.” Your hands reached up to his sides, hovering over his waist a moment as you risked leaning into him. But a spark of anger rose within you as you thought about everything that was happening.

You shook your head and pressed your hands to his chest, gently pushing him back and away from you so you could see his face. “But every time I go to see you… you’re not there.”

His breath shuttered, “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t care,” you huffed. “Not if it means I can’t have you.”

He licked his lips, looking down at the floor as he thought to himself. He shook his head, wiping his face clean as his breath trembled lightly. “I thought I was doing something right for once… I tried, I’m sorry.” Your shoulders loosened as you watched him. He sucked in a breath and gave a shallow nod, a signal that he was leaving. You called his name all in vain. You didn’t want to hurt him, you didn’t want to hurt any of them…but they had to know what was going on.

Jake’s familiar face overtook, but he did not make his presence known with his voice. You were both silent, still processing the past few minutes. Everything was happening so quickly, so much at one time. You didn’t know how to continue one… how to even begin to try to make things right.

But it didn't seem like it was over.

“Did you really have to be that honest?” Jake asked, his voice quiet.

You looked up at him, searching his face for a moment before looking away again. “I didn’t mean to hurt them like that,” you whispered.

Jake shrugged lightly, putting his hands in the pocket of his jeans. “Well, they’re both hiding now.” You shot him somewhat of a scowl. He did not seem as fazed. “You know they do their best. Steven isn’t the most confident of souls, but he’s a good man. He comes home to see you every day, even when he’s in a sour mood. Marc is bad at relationships, but he tries because he’s scared of losing you. And yes, he gets obsessive, but he does it out of love.”

“You don’t think I know that?” you spoke. “I see how tired Steven is after a shift at the museum, having to deal with Donna and people who are just rude. And Marc when he spends hours patrolling to make sure no one’s out to get us. I see it, Jake. I want it to make up for everything, but at some point, I have to put my foot down. I can’t keep living like a second option.”

“I get that–”

“No, but what about you?” you added. “You used to work maybe three nights a week, but now it feels like every night. I hardly get to see you during the day because you’re always so tired from being out all night. I get maybe an hour or two in the evening before you leave again, but that’s it until the next day.

He did not interrupt. He did not try to defend himself or his decisions. He just stood there and listened to what you had to say, letting you get off of your chest what you had been holding back for so long. You could see the concern etched into his face as he watched you spill your troubles to him, laying everything out for him to see.

You chewed on your bottom lip, letting out a breath as you continued. “I made peace with you being a recluse a long time ago, but… I don’t know, I just… I want you to be here.” You shook your head again, bringing your hands to your face and wiping away your frustrated tears. Your throat hurt and you felt like you have not breathed in years as you struggled to continue.

You reached a hand out in his direction, but it just fell right back to your side as you closed your eyes. You shrugged, “I wait for you sometimes. I’d set alarms to wake up early in the morning in hopes of catching you, but I always end up falling asleep too quickly and I miss you… I miss you. And when you’re back, it’s not you.”

Your breath trembled. “Every time I wake up, I’m reaching for you, but you’re never there.”

He reached out a hand to you, hoping for yours to join his. “I’m here now. We’re all here.”

You sighed, “You’re only here now because I told you that you weren’t.” Your gaze fell to your shoes, avoiding his outstretched hand as you fiddled with your fingers. You shook your head, “It’s just not enough right now.”

He clenched his jaw, his hand returning to his side. “When will it be enough?”

You looked up at him but gave no response.

“When will it be enough?” he repeated. “Steven tried to fix things today, and you refused him. They told you they loved you, I’m trying to tell you ‘te amo’, but you’re refusing it. We’re trying to be enough for you because all we want in this world is to be enough for you, but you’re refusing us. I understand you’re upset, but we’re trying to make it right, but it’s not enough!”

You watched him as he spoke, eyes wide and body completely still. Your breath was shallow and you still trembled from before. His words had struck you, and they struck you hard as you took it in. He wasn’t wrong, you knew that. You had deeply upset both Marc and Steven, but you justified it with your own troubles. Whether or not that put you in the wrong with the way you handled things, you could not think clearly enough to say. But it seems you had upset Jake as well, and he was the one you had expected to make it to the end of this grating conversation without a blowup on either side. But you were wrong.

“¡Miércoles!” he exclaimed to himself, still caught up in his own emotion as he faced to the side, away from you as he tried to gather himself. He was frustrated, but he seemed more frustrated with himself than he did with you by the way his fingers dug into the back of his neck as he tried to calm himself.

He ultimately just shook his head and turned toward the door, taking long strides to get to it. “Jake!” you called, although your voice was still weak and broken in your attempt. He did not listen to you, he did not spare you a glance or a response. He just snatched his keys and cap, opened the door, and left with a slam that echoed bitterly through the apartment.

You broke down in the middle of the apartment, sinking to your knees as your sobs overcame you. You tried to stop them, but it was all of no use as you succumbed to the heavy feeling that nested in your chest. Your heart was still thumping harshly in your chest, your throat was rougher and weaker with each tear, and you were eventually becoming dizzy from the amount of tears you spilled.

So much had happened so quickly, and you still had not even processed enough of it to think clearly so you could try to resolve the situation eventually. For too long, you cried on the floor like it was the only thing you knew how to do.

~

It was late when they returned, the time before the morning when everything was still sleeping. Jake walked into the apartment slowly, as if dreaded a return, even if it was long overdue. One look around the room told him you were still home, even if he had not laid eyes on you yet.

He hung his keys and his cap, running a hand through his hair and walking further into the apartment. "Y/N?" he called into the still air.

You didn't reply, but he knew you were home. He took slow steps over to the bathroom door, which was closed with the light on. He sat down, his back pressing against the cool surface. He let out a deep sigh, leaning his head against the door as he thought in the silence.

"I know you're in there," he said simply. As he thought, you gave no answer. "You don't have to come out."

And still, no response. He had not expected one.

He sighed, resting his arms on his knees and hunching over. "I'm… We're sorry. Shouldn't have yelled, shouldn't have left like that, and we shouldn't have made you feel like… like you aren't loved. Because we love you more than it's possible to love someone."

He felt a shuffling against the door, smiling a little at your presence and looking down at his hands. "You changed me… you changed us. I mean, the only reason they know me is because I met you." He chuckled a little, a quick sound that still managed to lift some of your spirits, just a little. "That night you stumbled into my cab, smiling like you won the lotería, and you whipped out your fluid Spanish and talked to me the whole ride."

He shook his head and laughed a little more, "And then you showed up at the museum the next day and confused the hell out of Steven." Jake didn't miss the quiet laugh from in the room, almost a giggle that you tried to stifle at the memory. He licked his lip, "I had no intention of showing myself to them until I met you, because I knew it was the only way I could be in your life… and I knew it would be worth it."

He turned his head to the door, sighing slowly and nodding, "Te amo, mi vida. Te lo prometo."

You smiled a little, but remained silent. And the silence stretched as you mouthed a name to yourself, like a wish falling from your lips, 'Marc.'

Marc did not speak for a long time. It was as if he couldn't find the words to. Every time he opened his mouth to say something to you, nothing came out and he was back at square one. But when he did speak, it broke through the silence in a way that almost startled you, but it wasn't at all unpleasant.

"I…" he sighed, "I've never been good at relationships." He shook his head, rubbing his thumb against his finger absent-mindedly. "I'm aggressive and obsessive and paranoid and my priorities are all screwed up sometimes."

Then he shrugged and his brows scrunched in thought, "I don't know, I just… When I met you, I changed for the better, I think. You gave me… more to fight for. And fight, I did." He chuckled humorlessly at the end. "But I fight too much, and I never realize it until it's too late. Ever since we met, I've wanted nothing more than to protect you, to keep you safe, even if it meant sacrificing time with you because another day of you being safe and alive was way better than anything else."

Marc sighed, dropping his arm over his arched knee. "I should've listened to you, you're always right. When you say 'stay home', I need to just stay home. I mean, I'd rather be with you than with a person trying to kill me." The melodic sound of your stifled chuckle came quietly through the door again, and Marc just smiled.

But his smile fell as he continued. "All my life, I've just tried to do things right. To make up for everything I did wrong. But I keep messing it up, even this." He licked his lips, "Guess I can never do anything right, huh?"

You dropped your head into your arms, hiding your face again as you shook your head.

Marc wiped a hand down his face, speaking with another laugh void of humor. "God, I'm such a screw-up."

That was when you spoke, your hoarse voice announcing yourself as you told him plain and simple, "You're not a screw-up." You sniffed, wiping at the few tears that managed to slip from your eyes.

He did not argue with you, didn't try to justify himself as such or convince you that he was. He didn't even say anything. He just leaned his head back against the door.

You sighed deeply, smoothing your hands along your arms and folding into yourself a little more. You shook your head as a bile rose in your throat, burning there as you tried to speak. "I want my life back." You closed your eyes and shrugged, "It just feels like… since I met you, you've been my life, all of you. Like, without you, I have nothing else."

More silence. Always more silence.

Marc thought about your words, allowing the quiet to stretch. The last thing he wanted was to lose you — that was what created this mess in the first place — but it seemed he was more likely to lose you now more than ever… But if that was what it took to make you happy–

"If you want us to leave… we can. We can end things now, and you'll never have to worry about us again." His words were slow and you could feel the hurt in each word, like he was fighting against his own instincts as he said them. He struggled to get it out, but once he had, the answer he got were words he did not know he needed to hear.

"I still need you," you answered, shaking your head. "I'll always need you. I can't imagine not needing you."

Marc smiled, wiping his face of the tears that had fallen. He nodded, looking over his shoulder, as if he could see you through the door. "I made you a promise," he breathed, pressing his hand against the door, "and I have not broken that promise, baby. I love you."

Your heart fluttered. You knew he couldn't see you, but you hid your face anyway.

"Hey…" The word was drawn out, said with a weak enthusiasm and an accent. It was the sound of something defined as "doing his best".

You hummed softly, "Hi, Steven."

"Hey," he repeated. "Yeah." He hummed then, a gentle sound that signaled he was trying to think.

"I'm sorry," you whispered to him through the door. "I'm sorry for… being so harsh with you earlier. I just wanted you to hear me, but I didn't want to hurt you."

He shook his head, "No, no. It's my fault, I should've been noticing, but I wasn't. You were right, I've not been enough."

You startled him as you suddenly threw the door open, pushing him away from it. Steven almost fell forward, catching himself with his hands and turning to see you.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You felt better, safer in his arms. "I'm sorry," you told him, your voice straining. "I shouldn't have said that to any of you because it's not true."

You pulled out of his arms, holding his face in your hands as you examined his face. "I love you. You are enough, you're more than enough. I was frustrated and I was upset, but I shouldn't have said that. I'd rather sit and listen to you talk about Egyptian myths and legends about how Bastet went from being a lioness to a house cat or Set trying to kill Osiris a hundred times for hours on end than spend a moment being away from you because we're fighting."

His eyes had teared up as you went on your tangent. His hands cupped yours and he smiled, admiring the way you tended to him, the way you spoke to him. He felt you catch the tears that spilled over his cheeks, wonder and adoration in his eyes at the fact that you cared enough about him to actually listen to his rants around Egyptian mythology — one that was not so much myth anymore.

“I love you so much,” Steven sighed, smiling at you like a dork.

You laughed lightly, wrapping your arms back around his neck. “I love you, too. All of you, I adore you.”

You and Steven ended up repeating those words back and forth to one another. It was like those words were made of water and fell so easily from your mouths that it was more than natural for them to flow. But Jake was never one for the over-emotional cuddle time.

Alright, alright, alright, he repeated in Steven’s head. I think we all get it. We love you, she loves us. We’re good.

Steven rolled his eyes but nodded, his smile still intact. “Jake said he loves you, too,” he simplified.

“And he wants us to stop because it’s too soft for his tough ears,” you teased. Steven nodded with an airy laugh. You moved to stand, holding your hand out for Steven as you both stood to your feet. “How about we both turn on Night at the Museum or something and watch until we pass out?”

“I think that sounds like a bloody brilliant idea,” he beamed, still watching you like a worshiper would his goddess. He pulled you closer, his hand wrapping around the back of your head as he brought you into a kiss.

You melted into him, let him consume you as you felt all three of the loves of your life in one kiss. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, reaching deeper to taste his love. His hands migrated to your waist and he just wrapped his arms tighter, unable to let go for even a moment.

By the time you pulled away, you were out of breath and smiling. “Let’s never fight again, yeah?” he asked, a dorky grin accompanying his hopeful eyes.

You nodded, kissing his lips again quickly. “Sounds like a great plan to me,” you told him. He surprised you when he bent down, sweeping you off your feet as you yelped and carrying you to the couch. He plopped you down, sitting next to you and grabbing the remote, offering it as if it was some sort of great gift.

You rolled your eyes and took the device, leaning back against his chest as he held you close. “What are we watching?” Marc’s smooth voice entered the room and you looked back at him with a raised brow.

“Night at the Museum,” you answered.

He turned his nose at it, poking your side and earning an involuntary giggle as he shrugged, “Do we have to watch that?”

“I don’t think you really have a say in this one, boss,” you told him as you navigated the TV.

She’s got a point, cabrón.

Yeah, you missed two nights, Marc. You got to recompense for your crimes.

Marc rolled his eyes but shrugged his shoulders, “Fair.” You chuckled to yourself, wondering what it was Steven and Jake had added to your words as you selected the movie. You set the remote down and cuddled closer into Marc’s side, your head laying in the crook of his neck after you placed a kiss on his cheek. His arm pulled you in closer and he kissed your forehead.

It was nice to be needed.

Oscar Isaac taglist: @loki-hargreeves​

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #steven grant #marc spector #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #reader insert #female reader

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 8

Good evening! (For me anyway) This one is going to be another short one, but I promise the last two chapters of Part 1 are over 1.5k words each so you'll get plenty for the final two parts! If you're enjoying it so far, do message or comment to be added to the taglist. Enjoy :))))) <3

Summary: Welcome to Middle Earth! Though not in a nice way, you've got some challenging things to experience. Enjoy your stay!

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 948

Warnings: Mentions of Minor and Major Injuries from last chapter, People waking up and panicking a bit too much.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

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Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 >

PART 1: Chapter 8 -

How it feels to chew five gum.

Jamais Vu (definition): translates to ‘never seen’. When one experiences being unfamiliar with a person or situation that is actually very familiar.

Twisting around in my sleep was a bit of a mistake, seeing that I ended up leaning on practically every injury I had.

Not to mention the loud voice that sent Kay into hysterics. But what really had my eyes shooting open was that she had accidentally planted her foot right where I felt it in my ribs. Broken bones remember?

Sitting up on my good arm, I faced over my shoulder to where I had heard Kay land unceremoniously on the floor, her legs the only thing I could see kicking about as she tried to untangle herself from the covers. I blinked at the early morning light, getting my bleary eyes to finally open up properly, when I froze.

Well, we were certainly no longer in the middle of nowhere, instead a completely strange place, as if we had gone back in time. By the looks of it, it was definitely a bedroom of some sort, though it looked as if it had shrunk ever so slightly, if the feeling of my feet hanging off the edge of the bed answered anything. It was also concerning as I had no recollection of arriving here, and I doubted Kay would either.

Regardless of how much it resembled the definition of an age old English cottage, the one thing that stood out to me was the weirdest feeling that I somewhat knew what this place was. A familiar place that I had never been to. Thankfully, my questions were answered when I looked towards the foot of the bed.

My face went slack with shock and all I could do was stare. He stared back most of the time; his eyes darting back and forth every once in a while.

Kay was still flapping around, though now only her arms as she brought herself to her feet. She looked at me, then to where I was staring, only to fall silent herself, her eyes stretching wide as her mouth fell open.

The miniature version of Martin Freeman himself was stood at the foot of the bed, looking like this was the last place he wanted to be right now.

He became easily flustered, redness crawling up his neck and over his round face. We were staring after all, gobsmacked, in absolute silence at him as if he was some sort of zoo animal. I opened my mouth slightly, chapped lips cracking after drying out all night. I wanted to say at least something before this non-existent conversation become even more awkward as it was. I didn’t get very far though, since anything that once was died back down my throat, and I pressed my lips back together.

Seeing that we weren’t going to move at this moment, he stuttered out that breakfast was ready, before darting out of sight, scurrying down the hall before either of us could say a word.

It wasn’t like either of us were planning to say anything, considering we spent the next twenty seconds or so gaping at the empty door frame, before slowly turning towards each other.

I was the first to rouse from our mutual state of shock, silently mouthing ‘WHAT THE FUCK’, as I pointed my finger wildly, whipping my head back and forth at Kay and the door.

‘I DON’T KNOW’ Kay mouthed back as she flailed her own hands around in confusion.

I frantically beckoned Kay towards me, waiting until she had clambered back on the bed before slapping my bandaged hand on her shoulder.

“That isn’t the actor.” I murmured.

“Uh-huh.” She nodded.

“He’s far too short to actually be Martin Freeman.”

She nodded her head eagerly in anticipation.

“Do you realise what this means??” I hissed. She stared, waiting. My eyes became wide and unfocused, as it finally dawned on me.

“We’re in Middle Earth?!?!?!”

Kay took a deep breath, seeming to hold it in as she tried to contain herself. However, we were soon both flailing slightly in excitement.

“Holy shit you’re right.” She answered with a laugh, as she bounced around the bed, eagerly taking in what was around her. I wildly grinned back with the same enthusiasm. Placing my hands on my lap, I took them off less than a second later at the unusual feeling. Looking down, I let out a whine at the sight of dried mud on my trousers.

“Though we didn’t exactly arrive in the best of conditions.” I added, flicking away bits of mud and dried blood. Kay looked down at her own self and let out a groan at the sight of her cargo trousers on the verge of becoming completely ruined.

“Forget that.” she replied, picking at the material. “If this place doesn’t cure my goddamn depression, then I really don’t know what will.” I let out a short laugh at the statement.

The sound of teacups clinking together from deeper in the house somewhat managed to knock us out of our state as we realised we were currently in someone’s home as guests. And very dirty ones at that.

Kay swiftly slid off the bed onto her feet, picking up anything that her unruly wake up technique had knocked off the mattress. I followed suit, standing up to stretch as much as I could without disturbing my fractures. Though that proved to be a mistake as I ended up colliding my head with the ceiling, Kay letting out a cry of laughter when I yelped in surprise.

Now weary at the height of things, I tried my best to recall what Bilbo had stuttered out about where to go, then turned to lead us both through the door into the rest of the hobbit’s home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

< Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 >

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Can't wait to see you on the 12th May for Chapter 9! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

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#the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x oc #kili x reader #fili #kili #fili x reader #hobbit x reader #fili x oc #kili x oc #thorins company x reader #thorins company #To the Shadows that Cry Witch #big soup #kili durin

[hezzabeth]

"Revati! What the hell are you doing?" Dityaa cried from where she was propped up on the pillows.

"Saving your life! This woman is obviously some sort of serial killer assassin! She's been nothing but dodgy since I met her," Revati hissed, kicking the cocoon with one foot.

"Your sister's right; technically, I am a serial killer assassin," Paulette chuckled ruefully from the floor.

"She's also my lady-in-waiting," Dityaa said with a grand wave of her hand.

"Your lady-in-waiting?" Revati asked dubiously. Paulette, who was trying to chew her way out of the mushroom cocoon, didn't exactly look like a "lady-in-waiting."

"The women in my family have been protecting princesses of the blood for over half a millennium," Paulette said after she gave up chewing.

"And that's me! I'm a princess," Dityaa said with delight before patting the spot on the bed next to her.

"You've been gone for four years," Revati said, crossing her arms. "I tried to send Amma a letter. I've had so many appliances and people try to kill me; I've had to stay hidden! Actually, how did you find me so quickly?" Dityaa asked curiously.

"I don't think she did; I ran into her and her paramour at the telehub," Paulette said.

"Paramour! You?" Dityaa asked, sounding completely shocked.

"Is that so hard to believe? I've had plenty of paramours," Revati shot back.

"Well, you have mud all over your pants," Dityaa said with a small shrug.

"These are my work pants! Before you got here, I was wearing a red sundress and I looked fantastic," Revati replied before turning to leave.

"Ah, are you going to let me out?" Paulette asked.

"You're a serial killer assassin; I'm sure you can figure it out," Revati snapped back.

Brigadeiro was still sleeping when Revati returned. Revati, who had woken up every hour on the hour since the age of six, envied him. Carefully, she crept back into bed, shutting her eyes. Of course, Dityaa was some sort of magical lost fairytale princess. Revati forced herself to close her eyes, breathing in and out. It was a technique she had perfected years ago when trying to block out distant screams.

Sunlight, warm bright lovely sunlight. Revati, who was used to the faint blue mornings of Mars, blinked with annoyance. Brigadeiro was singing from behind a blue door Revati hadn't noticed before. "Will you miss me, little Buttercup? Said a rustic lad one day, I must go away, and I must obey. Come and kiss me, lift your two lips up, There now, dearie, don't you cry, Hear the bugles calling, It is time to say 'Goodbye.'"

Revati slowly stood up and winced as she took in her filthy disheveled state. Carefully, she knocked on the door, and Brigadeiro stopped singing.

"Are you awake?" He asked before opening the door in a cloud of lavender-scented steam.

Brigadeiro, dressed in a smart sky-blue suit with a navy-blue shirt, dreamily walked past Revati, leaning up to plant a kiss on her cheek. Revati touched her cheek, unsure of what to say or how to react.

"I'm filthy, is there a shower in there?" Revati asked.

"Oh no! We don't waste water on hygiene here! The sterilizing clouds take care of everything and the toilet teleporters," Brigadeiro replied as he tapped a section of the floor with his foot. A wooden panel suddenly shot up, revealing all of Revati's clothing hanging on a metal pole.

"You put my clothes away," Revati remarked.

"I hope you don't mind; you always like keeping the tent neat and tidy, and you were sleeping so peacefully," Brigadeiro explained.

Revati carefully examined her wardrobe. Everything was fresh and clean. The red sundress had a fixed hemline and a silk flower on its collar.

"This is new," Revati said with a small frown, poking the flower.

"Sorry about that; our laundry creatrix has a tendency to add flourishes on its default setting," Brigadeiro admitted.

"It's fine; thankfully, I like flowers," Revati replied, grabbing the dress and some clean underwear.

Revati marched into the bathroom that consisted of something that was hopefully a toilet and a shower. The second she stepped in the bath, it filled with jasmine-scented fog.

"Removing clothes," a neutral voice chimed, and Revati shrieked as her sleep shirt and underwear vanished in a pile of black sand.

"Cleaning skin," the fog chimed, and Revati yelled as the fog gently kissed her bare skin.

"Repairing sun damage and fixing oil glands," the voice chimed.

"What?" Revati cried.

"Just relax and go with it," Bridgadeiro called back.

"Washing and grooming hair," the machine chirped, and the steam seemed to massage Revati's scalp. Suddenly, the entire process stopped, and the steam cleared. The black sand was gone, all that remained was Revati's shirt and underwear neatly folded.

"Amazing! This shower is amazing," Revati yelled at Bridgadeiro.

"Really? My mother will love to hear that! She thinks the cleaning pod is super old," Bridgadeiro called back.

#nanowrimo2023 #nanowrimo #science fiction #life on mars #speculative worldbuilding #speculative fiction #saying farewell to armageddon

[drustvar]

Ch. 12: Halycon Dreams

Reflections and reminiscing of days gone by. “I know full well what kind of trouble I could be in…being with you. But the thing is, I dunnae care. I’ve made my choice. And that choice is you.” 

WC: 2,511 A/N: This chapter shifted tones like. 3 different times as it was being drafted but I think I'm finally content with it. Ao3 link in reblog || Full text under cut

The night was warm and balmy. Fireflies glowed softly in the garden, reminiscent of the twinkling stars in the sky above. Pippin had long since scampered off into the trees to scout for guards or, more than likely, find a place to sleep.

‘We’re safe here, ’ Rosie thought as she slumped onto the bench beside Julian. He casually wrapped an arm around her as she settled against his shoulder. They sat in the quiet together, listening to the crickets singing in the grass and the clinks and clanks of Portia in the kitchen. 

Julian frowned as a firefly drifted lazily in front of his face. “I uh, I didn’t expect to see Asra again,” he said as he cleared his throat. “You were right, he really saved our hides back there. We…we have a history, he and I.”

“I’d picked up on some of that,” Rosie said quietly. 

“Looking back, I think I made a lot of assumptions about him. About us. Maybe if I hadn’t…” he trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair. “But I’m not—I’m not holding onto it, you know. I think it’s better for both of us if I move on. I think I might have been pretty selfish with him. At least, from what I remember.”

“I guess the question is, are you the same person you were then?” He laughed and shook his head. “God, I hope not. Jury’s still out, though.” He sighed and looked up at the sky again. “Would anyone be the same? Could anyone? After three years like that; first a plague and then three years on the lam? It would be impossible not to change, wouldn’t it?” 

“I wish I could say,” she said quietly. “I wish I could remember who I was, three years ago.” With every day that passed she wondered why Asra was so cagey about telling her about the accident; how terrible must it have been for her to forget everything but the past three years of her life? To have to relearn how to function, how to be a person again. But the knowledge of it, how terrible was it that she wasn’t allowed to know ? ‘ Knowledge itself couldn’t hurt…could it ?’

“Ah, we truly are some kind of a pair, aren’t we?” He said, giving her a curious look. Before he could elaborate, Portia bustled out onto the patio, carrying a platter of steaming dishes.

“Aaand done!” Portia said as she set everything out on the patio table. “Eat up quick, we gotta get you out of here soon, just to be safe.” She slid onto the bench across from them. A small, chirping meow announced Pepi had followed close behind; the cat sniffing at her guests and staring up at them with big, curious eyes. Julian looked as though he was going to choke, as if the fact he was visiting Portia’s home for the first time had finally hit him. 

“Look at everything you’ve accomplished without me,” he said quietly. Portia rolled her eyes and scooped a helping of bigos onto his plate. It smelled delicious and had a vivid saffron color. “Oh, is this one of our grandma’s secret recipes? Haven’t had this in a long time. Tastes just the same, Pasha.” Rosie nodded in agreement as she took another spoonful. The wine brought out the flavors of the meat and mushrooms beautifully. “Though,” Julian paused as he chewed thoughtfully. “It’s a little unsalted, isn’t it?” “Oh please, since when have you been a cook? Besides, you’ve got enough salt for all of us.” Portia said as she threw a hunk of bread at him. “Oh, is that so? Should I share?”

“Don’t even start, I don’t want you scaring Rosie off!” 

Rosie laughed over her drink. “Don't worry, he already tried that once and it didn’t work.”  Portia laughed too  as she turned back to her food; she seemed to radiate happiness in the moonlight, as if for a brief moment everything was right with their world. 

Conversation flowed easily and freely. During all of it, Rosie couldn’t stop the longing that grew in her heart; for something like this to be her new normal. Laughter, good food…a family. She looked off into the distance as Julian and Portia laughed over some story from their past. ‘Have I ever had a family?’ she wondered. ‘I can only remember Asra, but he’s gone so often…This, this feels right.’ Her attention returned to the table as Julian suddenly fell silent, staring down at his hands. Pepi mewled and jumped onto the bench, gingerly stepping over Rosie’s legs to settle in his lap. She purred loudly and curled up in a tight ball.

“You’ve made a good life here, Pasha.” He shook his head, trying to clear the melancholy from his expression, but only managed to make a mess of his hair. “If things weren’t the way they are; If I was a free man—a better man, would I have had this?” He asked quietly, seeming to briefly forget the others at the table. “It’s foolish to think about. Just another pipe dream.” 

“You could have this,” Rosie said as she leaned into his shoulder. “Even now.” 

“Could I, Rosie? Even if we clear my name, even if we spent every day and every night together,” he shook his head again. “Something would ruin it. Maybe I’d sabotage it myself without even meaning to.”

“Is it so hard to let yourself be happy?” 

“Yes.” 

Rosie grumbled as she took a long drink from her cup, hoping to hide the way her brows drew together in frustration. 

“Ilya,” Portia reached over and took her brother’s hands. “We’re in this together. Me and Rosie won’t let you ruin things, one of us will knock some sense into you before you can. And I think one day you’ll learn how to stop yourself, too. I believe in you.” Rosie nodded in agreement. 

“That’s very foolish of you both.” 

“But you’ve made it this far, haven’t you?” Portia asked. Rosie wisely held her tongue. 

“Only barely, if we’re uh, if we’re being honest.” Julian grimaced. “What neither of you know is that most of my life has been a collection of very lucky misses, and if I know anything about statistics it's that one day my luck is going to run out.” 

“Luck doesn’t play by the same rules as everything else does, though.” Rosie said quietly as she laid her hand over his. 

“No I suppose it doesn’t,” He sighed and shook his head. “Maybe…maybe my mistake was trying to do everything alone. I-I thought if I kept you two out of it, I could keep you safe. But the two of you,” he looked up at both Portia and Rosie, actually managing to crack a smile. “The two of you are just too stubborn. Barreled on ahead and got tangled up in my mess. But I guess I can’t deny it any longer. I think…I think I really will need your help.”    “Didn’t I tell you we’ve got your back?” Rosie asked as she hugged his arm.

“We’ll figure this out,” Portia’s smile was warm and hopeful. “So long as we’re all together. If you don’t want to leave the city, if you really want to stay and try to find answers… we’ll help you get them. As long as you don’t push us away.” 

“You’re right, both of you. I’m…I’m sorry it took me so long to listen.” 

“Oh, I’m not surprised,” Portia laughed. “You’ve always been a bit of a putz. But you always get it, eventually.”

Julian laughed, the bitter somberness from his voice finally lifting. “Well that’s not exactly fair, is it, Pasha? If I recall correctly it was you who thought skating on the roof using broken shingles was a good idea. Or what about the leaky boat debate?” 

Rosie stared at them both completely lost. “Ilya, I was seven!” Portia rolled her eyes. “Rosie, don’t listen to a word he says!” The conversation devolved into laughter and the recounting of childhood follies. Once again, Rosie’s heart felt warm and full.  || “-No, that’s not even the whole story!” Portia said. “You have to tell her about when you got stuck in the well!” 

“You got stuck in a well? How did you manage that?” “Oh well you see everyone said there was a lindwurm that had taken up residence at the bottom of it, and as young boys are want to do with strange creatures I of course wanted to see it-” 

“You were scared of it! The only reason you even went down there was because Yakiv had dared you to,” Portia said as she stifled a yawn. “Gosh, time's really gotten away from us. I should be heading to bed.” She yawned again as she started to gather up the empty plates. “I’ve got to be up at dawn for work. Rosie, will you be okay escorting him out of the gardens alone?” 

“We’ll manage just fine,” Rosie said as she squeezed Julian’s hand. “Go get some shut eye, sleepyhead.” 

As Portia swept by them, she paused and squeezed Rosie’s shoulder and whispered. “Thank you for being on his side.” 

Pepi lifted her head to watch Portia leave, before settling back in Julian’s lap, purring like a tiny engine. He glanced down at the cat, who seemed unlikely to move any time soon. “You know, we could stand to stay here a little longer,” he said. “If you wanted to stay here of course, that is. I know it's selfish, but when I’m around you, I, uh, well sometimes I want to be selfish. Is that alright…am I allowed to be?

“Of course you are,” Rosie said. “Like I said before, we have but one life, so why not be a little selfish?”

“I suppose that is a fair argument.” 

“Let’s stay a little longer,” she smiled warmly. “Besides,” she reached over to gently scratch Pepi’s ears. “It would be unforgivable to disturb the little angel.” 

Julian turned to her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I’m starting to think I’m a bad influence on you, or perhaps it's the other way around.”

“What do you mean?” 

He didn’t answer her, just settled back against the bench. His smile faded as he stared up at the stars above. His fingers ran idly through Pepi’s fur; she nuzzled his hand and started to knead. “I didn’t…I haven’t always made things so hard. I actually had fun today, if you can believe it.” 

“If you considered those shenanigans at the Palace ‘fun’, I’d love to know what you used to get up to,” she snorted. “Not counting all the trouble you and Portia got into when you were kids.” 

“Oh, all sorts,” he said. “All that was just childhood escapades. I must warn you that the really fun stories aren’t suitable for innocent ears.” 

They grinned at one another. 

“Before I came to Vesuvia, before the plague hit,” He paused, and made a gesture as if he were conjuring up the past.  “ I was out exploring the world. Getting into all sorts of trouble. To be honest, this isn’t the first time I’ve been threatened with a hanging. Never got caught, though. Well, except for that time on the pirate ship…” 

“Hang on, pirate ship? You never told me you were a pirate once upon a time,” she said. 

“Well, not so much a pirate as a, er, captive physician. You see, I’d been on board a merchant’s ship traveling across the Southern Sea. I offered medical care in exchange for free passage. It was a…oh what was it—a spice ship! That’s right, spices and other imports from Milova. The journey was supposed to take a month, but a fortnight into our voyage, we were attacked! Now, this was back before I was as impressive, smooth, and suave as I am now. I hadn’t yet learned to fight.” 

“How did  you ever survive?” She batted her lashes. 

“Well, right before the captain took the final swing to lop my head off, I cried ‘Spare me, for I am a doctor! Your leg is gangrenous and you will surely die without my help!’”

Pepi let out a surprised chirp at Julian’s exclamation. Disgruntled, she hopped out of his lap and wandered off into the garden to chase fireflies.  “And so began my time aboard a pirate ship. I learned a lot during those years, mostly how to talk my way out of sticky situations. I guess what I mean is that I, uh, I’ve always been trouble, Rosie. I know that. I can’t feel it more keenly than when I’m with you. Seems like it’s all I’ve gotten into. But I suppose trouble can be fun, can’t it?” 

“Perhaps what you need is someone to keep you in line,” Rosie murmured, reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of his eye. “But you’re right, trouble can be fun.” 

“Ah, but not this kind,” he said. “Not the kind that will get you killed on my account.” 

“Oh dear, not this again,” she said, the sultry notes in her voice replaced by concerned exasperation.

“It’s the truth Rosie. I really don’t think you’ve been taking it seriously.” 

“Yes I have!” He jolted at how her voice raised. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve worried over you, an’ before you go and say that's just another one of your faults, I need you to understand that’s just the kind of person I am.” She pressed her hand to his chest, her touch gentle but firm. “I know full well what kind of trouble I could be in…being with you. But the thing is, I dunnae care. I’ve made my choice. And that choice is you.” 

A light flush had risen across his cheeks, and she could hear his breath hitch faintly as she brushed her nails over the back of his neck. When he finally spoke again, his voice was very quiet. 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“Then don’t say anything.” Rosie said. She didn’t even give him the chance to, as she pressed her lips firmly to his. He startled, but immediately melted into her touch, pliant and obedient. 

“Rosie-” 

She hushed him as she traced his jaw with her fingers. He leaned into her touch and pulled her close, holding her tight. Rosie all but purred, nuzzling his chest and listening to the beat of his heart. 

“After everything I’ve done...” He murmured. “Am I really allowed to want this?” 

“Do you still have to ask?” 

“Maybe just to annoy you. But,” he paused as he tilted her chin up to meet his eyes.  “We aren’t out of the woods yet. Not even close. That key I found in the library, I don’t know what it means…I don’t know what we’ll find. But, if you’re there with me, I can face it. Whatever happens.” 

He slowly got to his feet and offered her his hand. Rosie gripped it tightly as she followed him into the night.

#kismet #mine #rosie #julian #julian devorak #arcana #you guys will never guess what chapter 13 is SKDGHSDGH

[yehsahihai]

Wedding Bells- Pt 2

Can't sleep so yeah, everyone enjoy this

“Rammmmm… My feet are deadd. I can’t take one more step.”

Ram laughed, even tired as he was. “I know rani. But you’ve said it yourself na. There’s still work to be done.”

Y/n pouted at that, the thought of even getting up from the bench she was on too tiring. They’d been walking for hours, and her feet were beginning to feel like lead.

“I regret now.”

Ram dropped beside her too, staggering under the weight of the things he was holding.

“At least we got a good portion of the list done. Right?”

Y/n grimaced. “I have no clue. We went to the dyer?”

“Hmm.”

“And the tailor?”

“Haan.”

“The fabric stall?”

“Which one? The one where we got the pink dupatta? Or the green cloth? Or the red silk?”

“You know, you’re finding this funny now. Wait till the wedding. Then the actual chaos will happen.”

Ram looked at her, properly since the beginning of the day. Eyes closed, head tipped back, kajal smudged, taking off her earrings. Still stunning. Still making his heart spill over with love. He wished he could say it. He wished he was brave enough to tell her. But every time, his courage faltered.

She sensed his gaze on her. And from the way he had gone quiet she knew something was going on with him. Fluttering her eyes open, she turned her head to look at him. He was there, but also not there.

“Kya hua? Kya soch rahe ho?’

Ram shook his head, snapping himself out of his reviere. Languidly lifting his mouth in a small smile he answered, “Nahi just……. “

“Haan?”

“I think I liked our wedding better.”

“You know, I always wanted a big wedding”

Ram turned, looking at her, surprise with a hint of guilt crawling up his heart. She’d never told him that. He always assumed she had liked their wedding, however subdued it was.

Y/n read it. The emotions swirling through his eyes. The sadness and guilt he felt.

“I changed my mind though?”

“Oh?”

“Hmmm. I can’t imagine how people manage so much. I liked our wedding better too.”

Softly intertwining her fingers with his, she closed her eyes again. `

“Devuda!!”

Ram jolted, tiredness clearing away as he looked at y/n wondering what had gotten her so worked up all of a sudden. Seeing her worried expression he instantly asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Y/n looked at him, chewing on her lip, eyes reflecting the gears turning in her head. Looking over at Ram, she weakly said, “ We forgot to get the flowers.”

Ram’s eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. “Flowers? Flowers for what?”

“Ram! The satyanarayan puja tomorrow. I can’t believe I forgot!”

‘Y/n, y/n, y/n calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! Those flowers were important! The puja is in the morning. Where will we get the flowers from now?” She slumped forward, burying her face in her hands.

Ram’s heart clenched at this dejected avatar of his wife. Reaching out he wrapped an arm around her, shifting to move closer.

“Hey, hey listen.”

She turned to look at him, and suddenly they were close. Too close. Ram took a shallow breath, enveloped by the scent of gandharaj.

“Haan?”

“Hmm? Oh right. I was saying we’ll go get the flowers tomorrow morning if they’re that important.”

“Ram the puja starts at 7. We have to bathe, set up for the puja, decorate, everything before that. Kab jaayenge?”

Ram’s mind quickly processed this new information, putting a plan together. Looking at her again, he answered, in his most pleased tone, “I have an idea”

“Itni jaldi? Waah. I dodn’t know your brain worked so well.”

Ram scowled at her, making her break out in small giggles right near his heart. He hoped she couldn't pick up on his heartbeat.

Practically whining he asked her, “Accha, you want to hear or not?”

Y/n looked at him, eyes still shing with mirth.

“Haan ok. What were you saying?”

“I was saying, I’ll go pick up the flowers.”

“Arre, but-”

“Shhhh. Raanisaheba, pehele mujhe poora bolne dengi?”

“Hmph”

Lips twitching upwards, Ram continued, “The market opens at 4. I’ll go then, get the flowers and come back. It’ll hardly take 40-45 minutes? So you can stay home and get ready and help with the setting up. I’ll be back around 5 and then even I can get ready and no one will realise that the flowers weren’t bought yesterday.”

Y/n felt a myriad of emotions the most prominent being relief. However one thought quickly crossed her mind. Pushing herself so she sat up starighter she said, “Ram it’s already late. We’re going to go home, change, eat, sleep. It'll be even more late by then. On top of that both of us are exhausted. You even more than me. Are you sure you can get up and go to the market at 4 tomorrow? Because it’s fine. I’ll go and tell pinni I forgot the flowers.”

“And what? Get scolded for being careless?” Y/n was taken aback at Ram’s gruff tone.

“Ram, it’s fine. Zyada se zyada she’ll be like I can’t believe you forgot, how will we manage now and then she’ll be fine in five minutes. I’m sure someone else will go if not you.”

Ram shook his head, drawing her closer. “No. Even if it’s for five minutes I don’t want you to get scolded. I’ll go tomorrow. That’s final.”

Y/n’s heart clenched, Ram’s worry for her filling her with a happiness she hadn’t experienced before.

“And what will you take for doing me such a big favour?”

Ram chuckled at that, shaking his head. She was tired, and exhausted and still managed to tease him.

“Will you get me a kulfi?”

Y/n laughed. Doubling over, shaking. Maybe the tiredness was making her light headed but she could not help it. He could be such a child when he let his guards down. Straightening up, she answered, “Deal. Get me the flowers, I’ll get you the kulfi.”

Ram nodded, as she pressed herself even further into him.

“Ram?”

“Hmm?”

Unthinkingly, she reached up to brush her lips against his cheek. “Thank you. For today and every other day.”

Ram felt his brain short circuit, even as she snuggled back into him. Realising he had to do something, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, feeling her slowly doze off. “Of course thalli.”

@juhiiiiii @manwalaage @maraudersbitchesassemble @gauri-vishalakshi @lil-stark @rambheem-is-real  @seherie @irisesforyoureyes @zaddylokiandthorsimp ​ @bromance-minus-the-b ​ @kafkaesquebestie @hissterical-nyaan  @ramayantika  @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @obsessedtoafault @chaanv @hxnky-pxnky @shawty-writes-a-little @azraelcruor @rambheemisgoated @aasthuu @jeonmahi1864 @thewinchestergirl1208 @budugu @ronnoxandlumoss @rorapostsbl @dumdaradumdaradum @ramcharantitties @fangirlshrewt97 @nerd-reader @burningsheepcrown @ma-douce-souffrance

#rrr #ram x reader #ram x wife!reader #ram charan #desiblr

[nadja-antipaxos]

chapter one: between my fingers, she leaves, then she lingers

previously - prologue || masterlist || next - chapter two

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  brief mention of human traffickers (as in they’re mentioned as the bad guys), swearing, canon typical violence and fighting (slapping, punching, stabbing, etc), kissing, thigh riding, unprotected PIV sex

Note: Thank you to those of you who have interacted with this little fic. Please enjoy and leave comments so I know you're liking it. The song Ash sings is "The Clapping Song" by Shirley Ellis. All chapter titles are from Halsey's "honey".

Word Count: 6,072

3 years later

The first time Marc Spector lays eyes on her, she’s watching him kick a man in the solar plexus while peeling a tangerine with her hands.

A deep brown-skinned woman with nearly black hair and dark eyes. She’s perched on the roof above him.  He blinks. Yep. Tangerine.

He shakes his head and finishes his Khonshu crusade for the evening. When he’s done and panting, she’s gone.

He hasn’t been sleeping well and it’s been a month since he left Layla. Was he seeing things?

A month later, he’s tracked down some human traffickers in Durrës.  By the time he gets to their headquarters though, he thinks he sees her again.

She wore an intricate black mask with the rounded features of a lioness. The eye cutouts and nose were decorated in gold and the mask stopped above her lips. The giveaway is those same dark eyes.

Standing straight, she’s his height with her flat boots.

She wears a black jumpsuit with gold accents on the necklace, breastplate, wrists, hips, and boots. It’s exceptionally well-made and practical, not a sexy catsuit.

Considering his own outfit, he’s not one to judge.

She allows the four men to approach her first. She rolls her shoulders and cracks her neck.

She holds a wide stance rocking her weight from one leg to the other. He recognizes the limber movement from his boxing days. The men don’t. 

“You lost, girl?” One asks.

He sees her lips move and gets closer. She’s singing? It intrigues and confuses the men because they step forward.

“Three six nine, the goose drank wine. The monkey chew tobacco on the streetcar line. The line broke, the monkey got choked. And they all went to heaven in a little rowboat.”

She taps her foot and looks at each of them.

Marc blinks, watching her. He wonders if Khonshu sees this.

“Should we—”

“No.” The deep voice echoes in his head.

“Clap slap.” She slaps the first man hard across the face and he stumbles back. He gets his balance and lunges.

“Clap your hand, pat it on your partner's hand.” She grabs his hand and pulls it behind his head in an unnatural bend. It snaps and he screams.

She pulls her short sword with a gold handle from her thigh holster and stabs him in the chest.

A different man comes for her. 

“Clap pat clap your hand, cross it with your left arm.” She takes his left wrist and rolls him over her shoulder slamming his back into the dirt.

He’s got the wind knocked out of him.

She stabs him in the stomach with expert precision clipping his spleen.

These are men that are used to abducting scared women and children. They have no idea what to do with her. 

Marc can’t really pinpoint her style. She’s clearly trained but it’s a combination of things.

She keeps singing her little song.  Her fighting style is almost like a dance. Every move is deliberate and agile.

She uses her grip on the third man’s elbow to flip over his shoulder.

She lands on her ass with her legs out and drags him down with her.

His head hits the ground with a hollow echo. Blood seeps from it. 

From her spot in the dirt, she sweeps her long leg kicking the last man’s ankle out from under him, and smiles. 

She gets to her feet and surveys her work.

She pulls both swords from her thigh holsters and hovers over that last man. 

“Where are they?” She’s American?

“N-No one is here.”

“I know you bring the children here. Where are they?”

“I don’t—”

She repeats her question in Albanian surprising him and Marc.

Marc’s is rusty but he can tell the man gives her an answer. She nods politely.

She steps over him, but he snatches at her ankle.

She growls planting her free foot on his chest.

A blade pops out from her toe and she jams it into his neck.

He gasps and lets go.

Who the fuck is this woman?

Marc sees the children bolt immediately from the building and when she steps out, she has plain clothes on—jeans and a white tank top, and no mask. Those eyes.

His armor disappears and he approaches her.

Before he can think of a cover story, she removes a match from a packet.

“Was wondering when you’d say hi.” She chuckles.

“Why are you following me?” He stares at her.

“Ehhh…you’re following me this time, aren’t you?” She tilts her palm from side to side and steps back from the building. “I’d keep your distance.”

“From you?” Marc asks, wondering if that’s a threat.

She strikes the match on her denim-clad thigh. He realizes what she’s about to do and steps back.

She tosses it towards the building.

It catches fire immediately. She pats him on the chest.

“Good talk. See ya.”

Another month passes, and Marc tails a lead to a club in Madrid.

He beats out of him the information he needs to know and decides to get a drink before he leaves.

That’s when he sees her.

No suit. Tight jeans and a low-cut top showing a hint of her breasts.

 He watches her drinking and eyefucking a woman with short blue hair across the bar. The blue-haired woman moves over to her and they talk.

Marc pretends to drink his whiskey as they walk into the bathroom together.

Fifteen minutes later, they walk out, disheveled.

She approaches him.

“Concerned or jealous?” She asks.

He doesn’t answer.

Standing next to him without those boots, she’s only an inch shorter than him. She doesn’t seem like a threat.

If he hadn’t seen her fight, he never would’ve guessed what she was capable of. 

“You gonna drink that?” She points to the shot.

He shakes his head.

She tosses it back. “Thanks.”

Now that he sees her, really sees her up close, without the mask, she’s…beautiful. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Her brown, olive skin is a shade darker than his.

Her eyes move past him ever so slightly. She leans on the bar towards him.

“We’re being watched.”

His shoulders tense. It was a mistake to linger. Of course, someone was going to come looking.

“Don’t look.” Her face is close to his now.

She laughs even though he didn’t say anything. She touches his arm. “Act like we’re a couple.”

He tries his best to smile at the pretty stranger in front of him. 

Her eyes fall to his mouth and he does the same. She has very full lips. 

“Blend in. Kiss me.”

Marc nods.

She grips his shirt and tugs him to her.

It’s the first time someone has kissed him since he left Layla four months ago. He hasn’t kissed anyone else in three years.

She’s not sweet or gentle. Her mouth works aggressively against his in a way that makes his head spin. She really must want them to buy this. 

He grabs her bicep, noting how firm it is. She pulls back suddenly and breaks the kiss. Her eyes flick over his shoulder.

“We’re good.”

He still has his hand on her arm. He flips her wrist up and looks for a scale tattoo. She doesn’t have one.

He checks the other arm. Nothing.

“You’re not with Harrow?”

She pulls her arm out of his grip.

“Arthur Harrow?” She spits on the floor out of instinct before relaxing. “Just think of me as a friend, Marc.”

“Can’t be friends. I don’t know your name.”

“Ash.”

“Ash what?”

“Ash.”

Marc watches her leave possibly more confused than before.

Marc slams a man into the wall and rips the crescent from his breastplate.

He shoves it into the man’s neck and watches him bleed out onto his armor. He lets go and watches the now lifeless body fall to the ground.

His eyes scan the ledges of the building looking for her. Instead, all he finds is a grey spotted cat watching him with glowing green eyes.

It’s been four weeks since the bar and when he’s not running ragged for Khonshu, he’s thinking about her: Who she might be. Who trained her. What she meant by a friend.

He shakes his head. He has to focus.

Marc finally found a lead on the scarab in an office building in Italy of all places. A map to it. It’s been months of nothing.

Of course, as he crawls on top of the skylight, Ash is already in the maintenance room.

Her arms are bound behind her while a big man holds her by the shoulders.

The tallest man keeps pacing back and forth. There’s a third man by the door.

He finds it odd that she’s been caught. Maybe she’s human after all.

“Why are you here?” The tallest man is getting agitated.

“Rome is lovely in the spring.” Ash chuckles.

Smack. Her eyes widen. She looks insulted.

“How did you get in here?”

“Somebody left a window open. Uh oh. Was it you?”

This time he hits her she would’ve fallen over if the big guy wasn’t holding onto to her.  

“Why are you here? I won’t ask again.”

“Huh? Sorry couldn’t hear you over the—”

She’s cut off by a fist connecting to her jaw. She spits out the blood and laughs.

She looks up and smiles. Marc knows she sees him. 

“Oof, this is gonna hurt.”

“What is?”

Marc  swoops down crashing through the skylight. He kicks one of them in the stomach.

“That.” She scrunches her nose. 

The man on the floor gets up with the help of another man.

They circle Marc.

A punch to the ribs.

A crescent moon to the gut.

A kick to the head.

He turns to see how she’s doing.

She steps on the foot of the big guy holding her then kicks him in the shin with her heel.

He curses and lets go of her.

She jumps and kicks him in the jaw sending him to the floor. She lands on her ass, laughing. 

Marc walks over to her, crescent in hand and cuts open the zip ties.

“Oh my god. You shouldn’t have.” Her mouth falls open.

“Ready to play?” He’s smirking even though she can’t see it. 

A smile grows on her full lips.

The door opens but before the men can even get to them, she’s cartwheeling over to them. She’s all legs.

Her mask is back on even though Marc has no idea when she grabbed it.

She jumps up and grabs the pipe above her using it as leverage to get her thighs around a man’s neck.

Marc’s all for flair but he’s never seen anything quite like this.

The man claws at her but she strangles him with her thighs.

Marc is horrified but a little turned on. He hears a sickening snap.

She pulls herself up and the body falls. The other man is stunned and doesn’t move.

She takes the opportunity to kick him in the nose.  He falls to the ground and she pounces with her gold-tipped knife drawn.

Marc knows she doesn’t need his help.

She leans over the dead body of the man who was beating her and takes a keycard out of his pocket. That’s why she let herself get caught. 

She waltzes out the door.

He sprints after her.

They fight every person that gets in their way until they reach a locked door. 

“It’s in here.” She tells him pulling out the keycard.

“I know.” Marc knows they only have seconds before they send more men.

“Ooh, good for you.” She narrows her eyes.

The sound of boots thundering down the hall gets his attention.

She slips into the room while he fights them off.

By the time he’s done, she’s gone.

He climbs up one of the bookcases to get to the balcony and sees her walking outside. He leaps.

“You have something that belongs to me.” He says walking behind her.

“I don’t see it that way.” She shrugs. 

Marc stands in front of her and she stops.

“The map to the scarab. Give it to me.” He puts his gloved hand out.

“You can fight me for it.” She smirks. 

“What?” Marc stares at her.

“I’ll give it over if you win.” She unzips a pocket on her thigh and places the USB drive inside.

Marc huffs. She’s getting on his nerves now. She knows about the scarab and she knows about Harrow, but she’s still playing with him. Does she actually take this seriously or is it a game?

“Sparring not fighting. That better?” She offers.

“Fine.” He nods. With the suit, he’ll win in no time. 

Marc lunges for her but Ash places her hands on his shoulders and leapfrogs over him.

Every time he tries to swipe at her, she’s practically bouncing out of reach. He’s getting frustrated now.

He starts circling her. She follows his lead, smiling.

He does finally land a blow on her side but when he tries again, she grabs his wrist and rolls him onto his back.

He springs to his feet and pushes her into the wall.

His forearm pins her throat but she hooks her foot around his ankle and kicks his legs out from under him.

Her thighs straddle his waist while her hands hold down his wrists. She lets go now that she’s made her point but doesn’t get off him.

“Guess we’re just gonna have to work together.”  

His chest heaves as he looks up at her. Those dark eyes are watching him curiously.  She’s breathing hard too.

He stares at her mouth.  The way she looks at him makes his stomach jump. He ignores the heat rising up his neck. 

“Kiss her and take the map.” Khonshu snaps in his head.

Marc has never done something like that.  He’s not a spy. He’s a hired gun. Mercenary. This is beyond him. 

He lunges forward and kisses her, completely forgetting their masks. She just laughs.  He grunts hiding his anger and embarrassment.

She grabs the mask from the end above her mouth and pulls it off.

His mask disappears and he stares at her. He needs to sell this. He cups her cheek. 

“C’mon, honey, I know you wanna kiss me. ” He raises his eyebrows attempting to recover.

“That so?” She smirks. 

“Mhmm.” He nods licking his lips.  “Bad.” 

“I think you wanna kiss me so bad you—”

He slides his hand around the back of her neck pulling her to him. Their mouths meet. Since they don’t have an audience, her lips move gently. It feels nice. Her entire body on top of him feels nice too.

She sighs and his hands begin to roam. One goes to her arm and the other falls to her waist stroking her side in between short kisses.

His fingers graze the zipper on her pocket. She pulls back. 

“Uh uh uh.” She’s staring down at him. “I might share if you ask nicely.” 

“Please. I need that to find—”

“We—” 

“No.”

“Kay. Good talk.” She gets off him.

“Ash!” Marc scrambles to his feet. He takes her wrist and pulls her back to him. He kisses her softly. “Can I have the map?”

“Aww, you’re bad at this. It’s so sweet.” She smiles and walks away. 

Marc takes a deep breath. His suit dissolves away and he’s in his normal clothes again.

Khonshu strides in front of him, angry.

“Go after her!”

Marc cards a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

“She’s right. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Then figure it out. This is life or death.”

“I just sent Layla the papers. I’m not—it’s weird—I can’t—”

“The world hangs in the balance and you worry about your marriage? Go.”

Marc sighs, nodding. He walks down the street and keeps his eyes open. A few blocks away he sees her sitting on a patio drinking red wine. She’s clearly visible like she wanted him to see her.

He crosses over to her and she gestures to the chair across from her. Her jumpsuit is gone. She stands up and pulls the chair out for him.

She wears a tight burgundy skirt and a white scoop-necked camisole that clings to her well-endowed chest. Her curves are on full display and impossible to ignore. How did she change so fast? She must have the technology for that. It’s not unheard of.

“You want something to eat? I’m always starving after a fight.” Ash looks back at him.

“Sure.” Marc hasn’t eaten tonight. It’s not something he always remembers to do. Khonshu tends to remind him. How can you serve me if you waste away? Her invitation is friendlier. 

The waiter comes by and she asks for another glass of wine. She puts in an order for Bucatini Amatriciana and he orders Cacio e Pepe because he doesn’t want any meat tonight. He takes a sip of the wine. It’s good. Dry and not sweet. He likes that in a wine.

“I’m Marc.”

Ash nods.

“Marc Spector. But you knew that, right?”

“I did.”

“And you’re still Ash.”

“Mhmm. Short for Aishwarya.”

“So…that’s Indian, right?” He scratches his temple.

“Winner winner.” She smiles a truly wonderful smile.

“Could see that or Egyptian.” He knows he’s just projecting on that one, but she could’ve been Arab.

“Hmm. Yeah. Just Indian though.” She drinks her wine.

 He tells himself he’s doing this to find the scarab. That’s his only motivation.

“Thanks for helping me out.”

“Yeah. You’re a great conversationalist.” She teases.

“Handsome stoic type.”

“Never been much of a talker.”

“How do you know me?”

“We work for the same people.”

Marc scoffs and shakes his head. “Doubt that.”

The waiter comes out with their food and he watches the couples dancing in the street to the music from a small band of players sitting in chairs. The pasta is delicious and he’s so hungry. He forgets to keep up the conversation and struggles not to shove the food in his mouth. He looks up and sees her devouring her plate. Maybe she isn’t much of a talker either.

“This is amazing.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you been to Rome before?”

“Not long enough to eat.”

“A crime.”

Ash is clearly a person who enjoys herself wherever she goes—whatever she’s doing and Marc envies that. She just seems so relaxed.

It’s been a long and tiring day and right now, he wants to stop. He has a goal here and he hasn’t forgotten that but he wants so badly to just hit pause. Maybe enjoy his food, the excellent wine, and steal a couple of looks at the beautiful woman in front of him. Guilt pangs in his stomach for thinking she’s beautiful. She is, of course, but it feels strange to admit it.  

“So American?”

“By way of Pittsburgh. You?”

“Chicago.”

“I’ve only been there once.”

“I don’t get back often.”

“Neither do I.”

“You military?”

“No. CIA.”

“If you were CIA you couldn’t tell me.”

“Only if I was still with them.”

“I see.”

“And you?”

“Ex-Marine.” 

The more wine he drinks the more he takes her in. Her dark hair is long and straight with side-swept bangs. Her skin looks flawless. Those full lips are now stained with red sauce.

He thinks back to the club and how she went into the bathroom with a stranger. Was it hard for her to keep quiet or did she let everyone know what she was doing? The thought makes the crotch of his jeans tighten.

Her elbow rests on the table as she eats and he can see her cleavage when she leans forward. Now, he can’t even stand up or everyone would see the growing hard-on in his pants. The image of Khonshu in a Marilyn Monroe dress springs to mind and he relaxes. He’d never tell him that though.

The waiter comes by with the check and she puts down cash. Marc can’t let her go yet.

Marc takes a deep breath and stands up. Ash watches as he extends his hand. Her brow furrows but she takes it. He guides her to the street where people are dancing.  He puts both hands on her waist and her arms rest on his shoulders.

“Ten and two, Marc Spector.” 

“Please, I’m a gentleman, Ash.”

“Rajul.”

“Hm?”

“Ash Rajul.”

The music is slow and easy to dance to which he’s grateful for. He isn’t much of a dancer. Layla would always have to beg him. He winces. There’s that guilt again.

Ash tilts her head but doesn’t say anything. He keeps his eyes on hers and the respectful space between their bodies disappears from song to song. He spins her without warning and she laughs. It’s as pretty as the music.

As the song comes to an end, he dips her and doesn’t hide the look he takes down her top. She notices and arches an eyebrow.

“We should get out of here.” He sighs.  He doesn’t trust himself not to kiss her in front of all these people. 

“Come with me.” She takes his hand. 

Marc holds back as far as the door to her hotel room.  He brushes her hair away from her neck breezing his mouth over the skin. She moans. What a sound.

He ruts himself against the cleft of her ass and she nearly drops the keys. She finally unlocks the door. Just as she shuts it, he backs her into it. 

“I wanna kiss you.” He breathes his face inches from hers. 

“Stop talking and do it.” She smirks. 

He captures her mouth in a bruising kiss.  She moans as he backs her into the wall.  His hands get lost in her thick dark hair. She tastes like wine, tomatoes, and something sweet. Their tongues battle for dominance. He isn’t sure who’s winning. She breaks the kiss and he goes for her neck. His head is swimming with the scent of her jasmine and amber perfume.

“You have a great ass.” She smacks it for emphasis.

“Somethin’ for you to hold onto when I’m fucking you.” He grips her hip. “I know I won’t be able to keep my hands off yours.”

“Mmm.” She bites her lip.

“Want me to fuck you, honey?” His teeth graze her pulse point. 

“I’d love it if you’d do something instead of talking about it.” She chuckles.  

He lifts up her hips and plants her down on his thigh. She gasps. He likes that sound. She scrambles for his biceps. He flexes his thigh pushing it up to her clothed core. She gasps again. 

“C’mon, honey, ruin these jeans.”  

“Marc.”

“I bet you look real pretty when you come.”

Her pupils are blown wide with lust. He arches an encouraging eyebrow. She rocks herself back and forth riding his thigh and moves her hands to his shoulders. Her sounds—the whines, the gasps, the moans—make him impossibly hard. His stomach twists realizing they haven’t even touched each other yet. She goes rigid and squeezes her eyes shut. He was right. She’s even prettier right now: face flushed and mouth open shuddering with bliss. He picks her up and moves her to the bed. 

  It takes her a moment to recover but when she does, the match has been lit. They’re pawing at each other’s clothes discarding them on the floor. The feeling of his bare skin on hers is electric. He kisses her before settling on top of her. He knows how this is going to go. His hand moves down her side. Her skin is so soft. She bites at his lower lip and licks her way inside. He moans completely caught off guard. 

Her nails scrape the base of his neck and he gasps. Her other hand brushes down his chest over his Star of David necklace. She was holding back before. She’s a fantastic kisser. Every press of those full lips is confident and deliberate. It knocks the breath from him. 

She flips him onto his back and smiles. He sits up slightly with his back against the pillows watching her. She leans over him letting her large breasts brush against his bare chest. Her tongue swipes a long line from his neck to his collarbone making him shudder. She kisses the spot right below his ear before dragging her teeth slowly down until he arches his back. He feels the shocks pulse up his spine. Whatever plan he had is completely gone. She kisses the hollow of his throat kissing a path down to his stomach.

“No wonder you’re so confident.” She purrs. 

He sees her eyeing his length. He swallows hard at the hungry look in her dark eyes.  She looks like she’s going to devour him and he wants her to, fuck does he want her to.

She’s straddling him now. Her hips hovering over him slowly. He can’t take it anymore. He needs to be inside her.

“Fuck me.” 

“Are you sure you want this?” Her eyes meet his with complete sincerity.

“Yes. Please, Ash, fuck me.”

She smiles and turns around with her back to him. He lets out a shaky breath. He would never tell her but he’s glad he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes. It’s way too intimate. She takes hold of him and eases her way down. He grunts. 

“So tight, honey.”

“You feel good too.”

His palms skim down her sweaty back to the globes of her ass. She’s so hot. 

Her hands tug at her hair as she begins to ride him. She sets the pace grinding back and forth. He watches her ass move as she impales herself on him again and again.

He grits his teeth, bucking his hips and she gasps.

“You like that?” He sighs.

“Yes, do it again.” There’s a chuckle in her voice. 

He does and soon they find a rhythm.

Her hands hold onto the meat of his thighs to steady herself as she speeds up. He knows she’s close from how she’s gripping him.  She just needs a little push.

Marc bends his knees and shifts slightly offering his thigh. 

“Lemme help. Y’know what to do.”

They fall back into a rhythm again but this time she’s rubbing herself all over his thigh. It’s even better than before because he can feel just how slick she is. 

He can feel her pulse around him— hips wild as she chases her peak. She cries out and slumps forward into the mattress letting him slip out. 

To his surprise, she stretches her hands out in front of her and wiggles that perfect ass. He gives her a playful squeeze. A smile grows on his lips.

“C’mon, Marc.”

He walks over on his knees and dips his hand in between her folds. She hisses.

He gathers her wetness and strokes himself with it. His other hand grabs that ass and pulls her flush against him.

He buries himself to the hilt in one thrust. She moans. He can’t get over how good she feels.

His fingers ghost over her neck and tilt her jaw up. He keeps his grip gentle just wanting access to her full lips. He kisses her fiercely. She trembles. 

“Marc. Please.”

He starts off steady but when she pushes that gorgeous ass against him he can’t hold back. 

“Yes! Yes!” Her cheek is pressed into the mattress. 

He snarls, pulling out only to slam back in again. The sounds she makes are unreal.  

“Oh my god. I—Marc—I can’t.”

“You can, honey.”  His thrusts are harder. Her body arches. “That it? Right there?”

She moans in reply. He reaches between her legs stroking her with figure eight patterns. 

“M-Marc.” She whines—whines his name as she shatters. 

“So—fuckin— good— ” He could fuck her all night and it wouldn’t be enough. This should be illegal.

“Ohh, oh, shit.” He’s gonna come. He grits his teeth calling on every ounce of his self-control to pull out. He hisses, chest heaving. 

To his surprise, she walks on her knees to him and stares. 

“Want some help with that?” She arches an eyebrow. He nods violently.

Her hand takes hold of him and he gasps. Her thumb brushes over his tip and he closes his eyes as she moves down.

Her grip is tight and she flexes mimicking the pulse he’d feel inside her. He’s right on the precipice. He’s gonna jump.

His heart is racing and his skin burns, flames licking him from the inside. 

“C’mon, pretty pretty boy. I got you. Just let go.” 

His eyes squeeze shut and his mouth falls open as he throws his head back. Oblivion overtakes him. Pure bliss as he falls apart.  

“Ohh—ahh—shit—Ash, fuck. Oh, Ash…”

He’s bucking up into her hand, spilling all over. He’s too far gone to care. She lets go and he fails to catch his breath. He feels the mattress dip and hears her padding on the floor.

The water is running in the bathroom. The mattress dips again and he feels a towel dragging over his skin. Her soft mouth presses into his cheekbone while her hand brushes his sweaty curls away from his forehead.

He didn’t expect her to be like this…tender. He blinks his eyes open with great effort and sees her smiling at him. She looks beautiful.

It’s all he remembers before dozing off. 

Marc wakes up and doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep.

He looks around the room. It’s been cleared out. He clears his throat and looks out the window.

Sunlight streaks faintly across the sky in pink and orange. His gaze falls on the nightstand.

There’s a large envelope with his name on it in crisp, uniform print. He grabs it and opens it quickly.

He sees a note, a USB drive, and a flip phone.

Marc —

You trying to honeypot me was super cute. I told you I’d share if you were nice. And you were much nicer than I expected. Would’ve settled just for dinner. Wore you out though. A for effort. Here’s a burner if you wanna reach me.

See you around

Xoxo,

A

Wednesdays are Steven Grant's favorite day of the week. All because of one particular visitor: Dr.  Aishwarya Devi.

She’s been working on a paper for the past six months and Wednesday is her artifact research day. Steven felt his heart skip the first time he laid eyes on her. She was as close to perfect as he had ever seen.

A tall hourglass-shaped woman with straight, long dark hair, dark eyes framed by retro cat-eye glasses, high cheekbones, and full lips that always wore tight blazers and pencil skirts. She spoke with a posh accent which wasn’t surprising considering her Oxford pedigree.

In the break room, he’s heard many different people talk about how beautiful she is. Even JB remembers her name.

Donna hates Wednesdays because of the tizzy Dr. Devi causes on the staff. But her looks aren’t Steven’s favorite thing about her.

When she first started coming to the museum, she found her way to the gift shop and asked him for directions to Donna’s office. She knew everything about the feline goddess Sekhmet surprising even Steven.

She explained her thesis to him and how when it’s finished she hopes to get published and do a lecture circuit. Steven would love to do something like that—be paid to share his knowledge with an interested, captive audience. 

She’s asked him about continuing his education but he isn’t sure he’s ready for something like that. Still, the fact she asked means the world.

Steven loves his conversations with her. She’s confident, funny, whip-smart as well as book-smart.

There have been quite a few times when he’s reading his novels that he’s pictured her as the captivating heroine.

She’s absolutely perfect but he doesn’t really know how to go out asking her out. Maybe he’ll bring it up this time. Maybe.

“What are you daydreaming about, Stevie? Dr. Perfect?” Donna snorts pulling him from his thoughts.

“N-No.”  Steven looks down at the cash register.

“Good. You’d have absolutely no shot with a girl like that.” Donna continues. “Hell’d freeze over first.”

Ash clears her throat making herself known. He wonders how long she’s been standing there. He can smell her amber and jasmine perfume. It’s heaven. 

“Hi, Steven.” Ash smiles at him. It fades when she looks at Donna. “Donna.”

“How much longer do you think you’ll be working on this paper, Dr. Devi?” Donna asks. Steven knows that translates to “How much longer are you gonna show up here?”

“I’m not sure. There’s just so much research. Do you need me to refile the paperwork?” Ash tilts her head.

“No. It’s valid.” Donna huffs. “Steven, take those plush alligators down to the basement. They’re not selling. Not that you know how to upsell anyway.”

Ash watches as Donna walks away and approaches Steven.

“Why do you let her talk to you like that?”

“I mean, she’s my boss.”

“She’s a raging bitch.”

Steven chuckles.

Ash smiles at him and looks back.

Donna is still watching them.  Her eyes fall to his mouth watching as he sucks his lower lip in between his teeth.

“Steven?”

“Hmm?” He brings his coffee cup to his mouth.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steven nearly spits out his coffee. 

“Can you w-what?”

“Can I kiss you?” Her tone is gentle and inviting. 

“Why?” Is he being pranked? 

“Cause you’re smart, cute, and sweet and Donna’s a bitch, and I wanna prove her wrong.” She fixes the collar on his button-up shirt and his brain nearly short circuits.

He’s engulfed by her perfume now and her ruby red lips are so close. 

His eyes widen. She thinks he’s cute? And smart? And sweet? And she wants to stick it to his boss? By kissing him? Is she real?

“So,” She rests her elbows on the desk. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes. Absolutely.” Steven nods so quickly his head might fall off his shoulders.

She smiles before leaning over.

She takes his face in his hands and he can see Donna freeze out of the corner of his eye.

He follows Ash’s lead as she kisses him full on the mouth. He wonders if he’s dreaming but part of him doesn’t really care. If he could dream like this all the time, he’d love going to sleep.

It’s a sweet, chaste kiss that all the novels in the world couldn’t have prepared him for. The real thing is so much better.

Her lips are soft and warm and he nearly topples forward from how dizzying it all feels. 

She pulls back, smiling.

He opens his eyes, dazed.

He peeks over her shoulder to see Donna standing with her mouth open.

He snickers.

Ash looks behind her and grins devilishly.

She sighs happily turning her attention back to him. He’s hanging on her every word.

“I should go. But god, you’re so cute.”

That’s it. He must be dreaming. He can feel the flush burning his cheeks as he smiles from ear to ear. He doesn’t know what to say.

She’s still smiling. 

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” Her eyebrows wiggle. 

“Definitely.” He nods, dazed.

“Bye, for now, Steven with a V.” She holds up her pointer and middle finger making a V.

“Bye, Miss Devi—er—Doctor. Aishwarya.” He gives her a little wave.

Steven sighs dreamily as she walks away. Yes, Wednesdays are his favorite.

#moon knight #marc spector #marc spector x oc #steven grant x oc #the eye of the moon #oc: ash rajul #fan fic #marvel

[yedlihmad]

| “childhood” - for Wondrous Tails of FFXIV event​

cw: crude language, mentions of death, violence, insects, gore

A home is a roof. In the vast, ancient jungles of Golmore there are many houses built between the trees by the Rava, a timeless people with thousands of tribes and names. Many tribes mean many tongues, so of course across this swallowing forest there are roads some call streets, hills some call mountains, towers which others have climbed to the peak and bellowed out to their fellows, loud as a lion, "I am ruler of this castle!" But go to the village of Eryut, where they worship the Gold Serpent. There they have a special word for ‘home,’ the same word for ‘roof.’ Caves, grottos, roosts, lofts, cabins, huts, tents: for a Viera, they may serve the same purpose, a place to live, eat, and sleep. But until you have thatched and blackened the ceilings–until you have mudded its slopes with an offering to the Serpent, one worthy of your children and blood–it is just a dwelling. Not a home. 

Uncle Skjol did not have a home. He preferred to sleep in a hammock slung between two trees. The triplets were astonished to learn this one summer when the warders were down from the canopies; they had crowded around the old Viera while he fletched new arrows on the forge pavilion. “I don’t like them,” said Skjol, his grim face shiny with sweat. “I never have.” 

“But why?” asked Hrudr, swatting an insect that buzzed by; to celebrate the warder’s reunion the children had been given candied mango, and were at the mercy of fruit-loving flies. “Why does Uncle not like homes?”

“Uncle just doesn’t,” said Hrafn, plumpest and most practical of the three. “Can we have a story now?” 

Refr gnawed on a cube of mango, grinning. “Was he thrown out of the last one?”  

Skjol cursed. He waved a broken arrow shaft. “Steel’s too soft,” he said. "A thousand hexes on the bones of Skatay! Three whole solstices come and gone since the summer of Black Arrows and those Leskreta thieves trade us bad metal for good wood. Disgrace! Ten jacks to get the shipment north of the Henne, six jacks return, four lost when overrun by diresaur outside of Bysnoe Minor. Two eaten, two bitten in half alive, by the time the Barkwalkers got down there nothing was left but the chewed-up hocks. Pfah!” He spat over his shoulder. “Leskreta have no honor. The snow sucks it outta them, the Serpentless fucks.”

The children goggled, savoring this rare delight of bad language. Every time there was a warder reunion, you could count on two things: candied fruit, and pestering their father’s brother. Skjol was ancient, irascible; he had survived over a hundred summers with one eye and less than half an right ear. The old hunter rambled about life in the canopies as frequently and colorfully as he swore. No one in Eryut–not even their mother or her new, bossy wife Laggi–used curse words like he did in a way that was so satisfying to repeat. 

“Is it because homes are hard to build?” asked Hrudr. 

“Because they’re hard to guard,” offered Refr, his mouth half-full. “Creatures can get in. They sneak through holes in the walls.” 

“Is it because they get dirty?” asked Hrafn. Filth was a novel dilemma in their lives; with no children of her own yet, Laggi cleaned often and complained loudly about funky smells. 

Skjol sat in silence, glowering at an arrowhead that would not properly attach. He began to ramble again. “All three are true,” he said finally. “Homes are hard to build. All must be guarded. You let a space go wild and the next day it’s full of bugs. Locust swarms, six moons after the summer of Red Comets. Sheets of wings and horned legs so thick you could wear them like the matron’s robe. Hells!” Without looking, he flung the useless steel into a nearby bucket full of other ruined arrowheads. “I said I don’t like them, I never have. I don’t want a home.”

“What do you want, Uncle?”

Skjol squinted down the hole of a hollowed-out arrow shaft with his lone eye. “Sauna,” he said. “A good knife. Volcano-glass, the star’s obsidian, a rare trade Tikko made back in summer of Ninety-Nine Hounds. Tikko, he grew the biggest gourds you’ve ever seen, big as the moon’s ass. Best kind are the red ones for aging the fern-wine, blood sausage, the Mother made it finely in little loops you could carry on a wrist. Not that the knife did him any good, sweet bastard–dead at sixty-two summers, devoured alive by mantids. Serpent keep  his heart.” He was eyeing Refr’s bag of mango. “You wolf it down that fast, it’ll block you up like a dam on a river.” 

Refr snorted, chewing noisily. “If there were bugs in my home, I’d just eat them.”

Nods of agreement, understanding. “Yeah, why not just eat them?” 

Skjol dug a claw into the arrow shaft, hollowing it further. “You three are already bugs.”

Hrafn looked thoughtfully into the pavilion canopy, considering. “Perhaps Uncle would want a home, if it was made just for Uncle.”

More nodding, this time with enthusiasm. “An Uncle home, for Uncle to like!”

“Nope,” said Skjol, pinching a strip of sinew between his teeth. “Do not waste air talking like that. This is fucking up my fucked-up arrows. Where was I–ah, yes. Tikko’s big gourds. So, Tikko was my father’s sister’s eighth son. Six and seventy summers ago, on the celebration of Two Ladies, the matriarchs conferred with Muscadet that all strangler vines should be culled...”

But the children ignored him; they carried on, talking over each other, clamoring. “If we pitched it up high for Uncle, thatched and tiled it with clay, it would be easier to guard.”

“So that when he came home he could sleep in peace. A protected home!”

“When I’m grown, I will build us a big one,” announced Hrudr, sitting back and upright, like the elders did when issuing final decrees at council meetings. “And we will all live there, with Uncle, too! We’ll have twenty windows, five doors, a room for you, and three big chests.”

“Four chests. An extra one, for Uncle.”

“And guard it day and night,” added Hrafn. “We’ll go up to those Leskreta thieves and kick their tails until they give us the best steel. Then it will be less work. Why do it alone? Why–”

Suddenly Skjol stamped, scaring them; his big, clawed foot came slamming down on the pavilion planks, heel-first. Thump!

“Enough!” he bellowed. “You rats! What do you know about work, about homes? About Leskreta, steel, anything? Pfah!” He stamped again, scattering them, their bags of fruit sent flying. “Get out of here! Go! Leave me be!”

Squealing, the triplets bolted away from the pavilion. They stopped when they passed the elder’s lodge, each of them panting; Refr was doubling over with pained laughter. 

Moments with Uncle Skjol always ended like this. For as long as they could remember, they could only push him so far. But later, when the laughter passed–when Hrudr went to wash and Refr went to demand more mango–it was Hrafn who crept back and peeked through the tree trunks by the forge. Skjol was still there; he had not moved from his bench. He looked small and narrow through the trees, his gnarled ear curled like an old woman’s finger, accusing. 

Hrafn slunk onto the pavilion. Around the bench lay chunks of candied mango spilled from their bags. Hrafn gathered up each chunk and sat beside Skjol, pushing them in a gold pile towards him. Wordlessly the old Viera reached out, scooped up the pile, and poured it into his fanged mouth. Chewing and rambling as he worked. 

“After the winter of Muscadet betrayal, the strangler vines returned and lay in wait. Fourteen jacks lost to vines, six more from culling. The Two Ladies dishonored, their sanctity forsaken, made the rains thick so the ticks came in swarms. The next summer we gave skysong and three strong hearts to the Serpent to make up for the lost blessing, but the ticks...” 

Silence settled over them. A fly danced around the black patch that covered Skjol’s missing eye; it landed, circled, and hummed away. Skjol did not notice. He was staring at the place where the pavilion met the cobbled path. 

“I like what I need,” he said. “Sauna. A good knife. Good steel arrowheads, gourds, Tikko. Not roofs.” His single dark eye fixed on Hrafn, glaring hard at the child’s face. As if to bore right through. “I don’t like them, child. I never have, and I never will.” 

#wondroustailsoffxiv #my writing #three of them #uncle skjol #viera rp #sorry this is rushed and crappy lmao #we have been memeing about uncle skjol for over a year and now there's finally a blurb about him

[ave-the-enby]

I usually don't share dreams if they bothered me or made me angry, because they're just dreams. But this one, I was about to lose it.

In my dream, I was asked out by one of my brothers friends. I said no, I wasn't interested and it was just too weird for me.

Some other things occur in the dream, but then my brother wanted to come visit and stay with us for a night. We knew ahead of time so we prepared a spot for him to sleep, what I didn't know, but everyone else did, was that he invited his friend to come with. The one who asked me out.

I wasn't told because my brother found out and he liked the idea and wanted to help set us up together. My family didn't know this part, just that the guy was coming over.

I opened the door, expecting my brother and it's his friend, my brother pushes past to hug me and explains he invited him to stay.

Then the rest of that evening is me avoiding but trying to be polite to my brothers friend, but when I went to shower, when I was done and tried to leave the bathroom, as soon as the door was open, his friend was there.

He tried to flirt and say how he was so happy that he could see me again, and I tried to explain again I wasn't interested, I got interrupted, and used that as an opportunity to get away.

He followed though and tried to ask me out again in front of my family, and I told him I'm not interested and I wasn't going to be, so don't ask again. And left to my room.

After that I got chewed out for not letting him down gently. That he was so heartbroken, I should apologize, I said no, because it was not the first time he's asked me out. It was weird that he corned me to begin with and then made it so if I said no, I would look like an asshole. If anything he should apologize for putting me in that situation when I already said no.

Then my brother accidentally revealed this was his plan and I was upset at him especially since he knew I already said no to his friend but still tried to set us up.

It got really overwhelming because it was just pushed over and over that I should give him a chance. I never date because I never give people a chance. I'm an adult and I still haven't gone out on a single date. I nearly told them that I was aromantic but instead decided no, I shouldn't have to tell them that to respect my wishes. And I stood my ground. Told my brother off and his friend.

I then stayed away from everyone and after they left my mom tried to talk to me about it. I then went through it all over again when she asked why did I react like that? Even after explaining everything she still felt like I should've remained calm. So I broke down crying from just being overwhelmed by the entire situation. And my sister defended me because he was standing by the bathroom and tried to keep me there, that was a creepy thing to do. That was basically the end of that plot line.

The bathroom part was downplayed just so I could get everything written. But in the dream our bathroom door was broken, and you had to have it a certain way to avoid people seeing in. He knew that. And kept standing in the way of letting me fix it every time I tried to use the bathroom. And when I started to move it to exit the first time, that's when he started to confess his love.

Lately a lot of my dreams I've been bothered by them, but this one, it was just, it felt so real and it didn't skip. It happened very logically so I didn't know it was a dream. Usually, when dreams are bothering me, I can figure out it's a dream and wake up but that didn't happen this time.

I hated that so much. I feel so disturbed and violated. Even though I know it's a dream, it felt very real.

#new fear unlocked #I'm reality I believe my mom would have my back and that's why in the dream when she didn't I broke down #I might turn this into a fic #Thanks for the new fear and all now I'm going to use this and make a happier version #I'm half joking #I might #But um seriously that dream was fucked all way round I am so happy to be awake

[potatoes83]

Slice of Life,

Capone and Waffles are coexisting very well.

Day 1, there was snapping and growling and being shitty. Capone wanted to play... Waffles was having none of it. Bailey (16 year old cat) presumably vanished until Christmas.

Day 2, much better, a hiccup when I threw down a tomato end for Waffles, and Capone went for it too. I thought they were chewing each other's faces, but near as I can see, they were both just chewing the same tomato and growling hardcore. Sleeping together with us on the same bed, no issues. Bailey swatting at both of them just to be shitty (generally; she doesn't sleep up with us because she won't stop moving.) Takes time with cats.

Day 3, nothing really to report. Taking time to both reassure Capone and hold Waffles on my lap and love on him. He is not being replaced, he is gaining a friend who needed a good forever home. Bailey is now back on couch in same room, but still hates Capone and swats at him... Continuing to correct this behavior; you can hiss, you can growl, but keep the claws away from his face and eyes.

Day 4, both can eat from their respective dishes in the kitchen at the same time without incident. No growling or adversarial behavior whatsoever. Capone has a bad habit of slamming into Waffles and damn near knocking him down when they are headed the same way. Capone: much younger, stronger, faster. Waffles: senior, arthritis, undergoing interim treatment for cancer pending a mass removal in a couple weeks. So getting around much slower. The behavior is not malicious; he just doesn't recognize thst Waffles is not moving as fast as he is. Bailey can hiss at Capone, and he understands that means back the hell off, don't keep pushing the issue. Being swatted in the face a couple times helped reinforce that model over the last couple days.

I'm no Cesar Milan, but I've had dogs since I was in the second grade, so having just turned 40 this year, I do know a thing or two. First, it takes time for two dogs to learn to cohabitate. You can't freak out every time there's a growl, or a bark, or even a little chase. You have to keep an eye on the situation, and if there's aggressive behavior, correct it immediately. You can chase and growl all you want, but as soon as you start snapping at each other's faces, that's a hand in between and a very firm no. They have to set their boundaries with each other. Capone wasn't being the least bit aggressive. But he also needed to learn that Waffles has boundaries, and no means no. You're dealing with a one-year-old intact male, practically a puppy, coming into a house where a nine and a half year old neutered male has been the sole dog since he was eight weeks old. Capone, if he doesn't want your nose up his ass, no means no.

Cats take longer. Again, she has to set her own boundaries and rules, but she has sharp pointy bits, and they have easily accessible buggy eyes. And that is a disaster waiting to happen. Have to keep a weather eye on the situation, he's been crated up in our room while we're gone for that very reason. We're home all weekend, I'd like to get to the point where we're graduating from crate. She will come around, but we're definitely trying to get to a point of passive indifference as opposed to full acceptance, have to manage those expectations.

You have got to share the love. And that might be the hardest part. I have to make very sure that Waffles is getting the appropriate attention, that he understands that he is not being supplanted or replaced. He has been my dog, very much a daddy's boy, since he was eight weeks old. Do you have any idea how impossibly small an 8-week-old pug is? I could hold him in both my hands and he had room to stretch out. And especially since we don't have any children yet, our dogs are even more special to us. Pets are not "things", they are a part of your family. But then there's Capone. Owned by the same family since he was eight weeks old, and then suddenly a year later, these strangers, although he seems to like them very much, clap him up in a strange crate in a strange car and drive him 10 hours away to a strange house with a strange dog. What is he to think? So we have to affirm to him that this is a place where he will be loved, and loved faithfully for the rest of his days. But then I'm doing that, and Waffles is looking at me like I'm some kind of betrayal, but then I'm loving on Waffles, and Capone wants in on the action because he just wants love all the time.

I am a deeply empathetic human being. I have a lot of love to give. Just because you're a man doesn't mean that's not the case. And there is a very special bond between a man and his dog. That goes back hundreds, thousands of years. Trying to figure out this thing where I can give equal love to both animal right now, I think that really is the hardest part. But I have my wife to help me, and again, it all takes a little bit of time. But every day is leaps and bounds better than the last. And in the meantime, two good boys have a very good home, with people that love them. And they share their love with us. And I'm damned if you can ask for anything more than that. 🥰 🥔