#he's just a little guy who wants to tell us he was splashing around in the grass and his best friend wants to hold his hand

[barbiegirldream]

Dream literally isn’t a streamer he doesn’t even like streaming. He streams to try and give us content. He’s a youtuber. And when he’s not youtubing the normal people who watch him watch other people. He rarely even promos his merch to his largest audience, youtube. Dream is literally just some guy a couple million people are super super obsessed with for no reason. 

#other ccs dont do twitter spaces and discord podcasts like he does all the time #like even quackity and karl its all content content content #dream has never behaved like that #he's just a little guy who wants to tell us he was splashing around in the grass and his best friend wants to hold his hand #and sometimes he makes youtube videos #can everyone can off his fucking dick

[ikarakie]

the nickname 'evie' wasn't one steve ever imagined getting, nor liking, but robin had a weird little wormy brain and one day steve became stevie and then stevie became evie; and steve found he kinda loved it. mostly because, well, it was always said with affection. even when she's scolding him, his heart warms at the fact someone cares enough for him, feels close enough to him, to craft him a loving nickname. one that isn't said with vitriol or fake awe.

it becomes second nature to reply to it. plus, robin becomes 'rob' or 'robbie' and they both find it sort of funny that they're basically swapping genders. sometimes they play into it when they're bored- robin putting on this macho, overly masculine persona and steve fluttering his eyelashes and acting ditzy and helpless. (shut up, robin, he's not always like that!)

so when the party are hanging out at steve's sometime in the summer, everyone basking in the post-vecna victory bliss, neither really think twice. robin cups her hands around her mouth and screams, "EVIE! DRINK!"

everyone glances around, wondering who the hell she could be talking to. steve waltzes out of the kitchen, a coke in each hand. tosses one to robin.

"thank you, darling!" she coos. he just rolls his eyes and meanders over to where the kids are splashing about.

"what did you call him?" nancy asks, looking at her over the top of her sunglasses. eddie leans in, as does jonathan, to the conversation.

"hm? evie?" robin asks. they all nod viciously and it's the first time she realises that having a nickname like that for guy like steve probably isn't very expected. "oh, well. y'know, stevie-evie." she waves a hand. "im rob, he's evie."

the other three eye each other. she gears herself up to get stroppy. her and steve are best friends, obviously they have nicknames. and she can tell he likes them, and she does too, so they can keep their opinions to themselves! only she doesn't have to, because nancy looks to where steve is with the kids. smiles warmly and leans back into jonathan's chest.

"cute." she says, "i like it. suits him. he always liked pet names." it should probably be awkward, talking about her ex that way, but jonathan just hums in agreement. eddie's eyes sparkle, grinning at the new information.

"you can use whatever you want, munson." she warns, already seeing where his mind was going. "but evie is my one. come up with your own."

#stranger things #steve harrington #prompt #steddie #stevie and robin #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin prompt #stobin #eddie munson #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #imagine #stranger things prompt

[sw33tsuccubus]

𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒸𝓎 𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈𝑜𝓃 boyfriend headcanons

you’re best friends who kiss

likes kissing your cheek. it’s just where his lips go. if he’s excited, like after winning capture the flag, he kisses your lips and then gets all flustered. it’s like the first time all over again. gives you these big bear hugs that make you warm. nuzzles his face into your hair during these.

has been jumpscared by a bee before. maybe he jumped into your arms and shrieked. just maybe.

it’s rare the two of you can cuddle. camp is always so busy. whenever you can, though, it’s always so sweet. sometimes you lay on your back and he drapes an arm and leg over you, his head on your shoulder with his breath lightly tickling your neck. sometimes his arms lazily wrap around you, face in your hair, legs tangled together. occasionally he’ll spoon you while you cuddle one of his plushies.

speaking of his plushies. he has a few, and they’re all sea creatures. a crab, a squid, a shark, a clownfish, a seahorse, a dolphin. he’ll be offended if you think they’re silly.

kind of embarrassing. will brag you’re the best at something even if you’ve never done it. has an ‘i ❤️ my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner’ shirt.

you guys have bracelets of each others’ color schemes. there’s a charm related to your godly parent on there. the one he gave you is blue, and it has a trident charm.

he paints his nails with you. more often than not they’re royal blue, but sometimes he paints them your favorite colors. he’d love to match you, smiling at your hands whenever your fingers are intertwined and he can see.

smells like the sea naturally. he uses cologne and scented shampoo, but you can only smell them if he’s pressed against you.

leaves clothes at your cabin just so you can wear them. gets so giddy if you do. denies any accusations that he does it on purpose. he makes sure it’s always his favorite clothes too, so it smells just that much more like him since he wears them more.

when you start talking, he zones out of everything in the room. partly because he’s hyperfocusing, but also because he chooses you over anything else. maybe he has heart eyes. just maybe.

he’s into pda, but he listens to your boundaries. in love with holding your hands. he’s be a little disappointed if you wouldn’t let him but he’d understand.

has tried impressing you by flexing. yeah, he’s muscular, but it was so funny. he’s talking with a friend, sees you, and immediately shows off. please don’t laugh, he’ll cry about it.

he’s dramatic. pouts and whines if you laugh at him for being childish. pouts and whines if you don’t laugh at one of his jokes. pouts and whines if you don’t hang out with him at least three times a day.

asks to spar with you. he’ll hold back to see what you’re capable of and then match as best as he can. if he cuts you, he’s apologizing and almost screaming. if you cut him, he’s laughing it off and telling you he’s okay. it’s fine if that’s not your thing, though; you can watch him :) at first, you think he’s being egotistical when he offers, trying to show off, but it’s kind of cool to watch. he’s like a gymnast, or a figure skater. his motions are just so fluid.

he likes to go swimming at least once a week to keep himself grounded. if you don’t want to come, he’ll collect you something from underwater. a pretty rock, a seashell, some random ocean treasure. he’d be ecstatic if you came with him, though. picking you up and twirling you in the water and splashing water at you.

does not shut up. he lays there and yaps about his day with his head on your lap and your hands playing with his hair. tells you about his favorite movies while walking with you around camp. he complains about any inconveniences with his cheek pressed to the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you.

that being said, he’s also a great listener. he sits there and nods along, smiling and adding small quips where needed. if you need advice, don’t ask him!! no matter how much you love him, he gives terrible advice. he’s quite reckless.

he’s protective. not overly so, but he is. he’s watching over you during training, he’s worrying if you ever go on a quest without him, he’s standing up to anyone at camp or at school who says something about you. if you got injured during the Battle of Manhattan or the fight against Gaea, he would be very worried and so so mad. he would put everything at risk for you.

he gets jealous sometimes and it’s funny, seeing him pout and reach for your hand. he’ll gently laugh at you and tell you how he feels about you if you ever feel jealous.

dating him is an experience.

he has some mood swings. he’s normally a happy, funny guy, but sometimes he gets sad thinking about his past and all the friends he’s lost. he gets frustrated and angry sometimes, when things don’t go his way or if things start piling up.

if he’s upset, he tries to avoid you so that he doesn’t snap at you. once he’s feeling better, he’ll come to you and hug you, which lead to cuddles. he doesn’t say much when this happens. either it’s silent, or you can talk to him and he’ll listen to each word.

he’s such a sweetheart. he’s always thinking about what you prefer and your interests and he’s always trying to be a gentleman for you, though his silliness makes it funny.

he’s all in all a caring and sweet boyfriend.

#percy jackson x reader #gn reader #headcanons #pjo x reader

[simplyreveries]

I don't know if someone has already requested this, but can I request the first years with GN!Reader who always falls asleep in weird places like on a tree branch, in the closet, under the table, or in the middle of the field, etc.? So the boys have to carry them back to Ramshackle Dorm.

ace trappola

at first, he was confused and even shocked at your strange ability to feel comfortable enough to sleep practically anywhere but of course it turns into him snickering and laughing whenever he catches you. he'd nudge deuce and tell him you're doing it again. he seriously could've died laughing and had to hold it in when he saw riddles frustrated and confused expression when you were passed out asleep underneath a table after an unbirthday party.

it comes to a point where he doesn't seem fazed or concerned if you're missing from class or something- he'd probably shake his head playfully and think you're just off sleeping somewhere unusual. he'd go off to find you most of the time. doesn't know how to wake you up, he's a, (loving) ass but he likes to stack random things on you either until you wake up or it falls. he's gotten in trouble multiple times for which in class. he'll call you a "sleepyhead" and sometimes tries to fool you and tell you you've slept through the whole day-!

much to his surprise,,, during an instance where you're just too hazy and too tired to be fully there. he groans and resorts to helping you back to ramshackle having you lazily use him as some support when walking back together. he'd tease and tell you you're lazy- but ace has never left your side when it's getting late, and he needs to wake you up or help you get back to ramshackle with the help of deuce.

deuce spade

ok not going to lie he's a little concerned. he's literally wondering how you manage to remain perfectly fine and unharmed when you somehow fall asleep int he most inconvenient and even dangerous spots. he's usually nervous and has a look of worriedness for you. deuce literally never felt more confused and SCARED when you fell asleep once inside the alchemy room... it's just waiting for disaster with mishaps in there.

deuce felt unsure if he should wake you up half of the time and when he does try it's too light of shaking or too quiet of talking to do anything. around that time ace or grim try suggesting splashing water on your face. he'd immediately figure out how to wake you up as soon as they mention that.

the time when he visited ramshackle and found you curled up in front of the steps asleep (doesnt matter how many times he's used to this he still is freaked out a bit akjshjhksk) he'll probably end up asking the ghosts for help in getting you back inside... it's almost dark too! he worries at the thought if he hadn't come over. doesn't really scold you but nervously does try to remind you to be more careful-! the last thing he wants is for you to end up getting hurt yourself because of this unique quirk of yours.

jack howl

the first time he witnessed this was an... experience, he was in the middle of track, and you were just sprawled out laying in the grass in a sunny spot. at first, he thought you were resting maybe... not actually fully asleep. he kinda just stares and tries to figure out in his head only for grim to tell him "...ya this is normal for them".

jack gets concerned like deuce and genuinely doesn't know what to do. he wants to help you but not abruptly wake you up. so, in other times where he finds you doing it again and again- he gets kind of used to it by now and doesn't seem to question it. he silently does make sure you're fine. like that one time you were peacefully asleep on a bleacher, and he quickly had to catch and stop you before you quite literally ROLLED off. you have this poor guy sweating.

though, in another time when its getting late and knows you should be back at ramshackle, he huffs and prompts to bringing you back there himself - a little annoyed by grim's snicker and climbing onto his shoulder but he does seem to make sure to look out for you. jack just prays you don't wake up, so you won't have something to tease him about later on...

epel felmier

epel silently stared for a few seconds in shock, letting himself slip cursing slightly in confusion. he regains his composure and doesn't bother waking you up if you seem- alright? he seemed to tell ace and deuce about it and they were already used to this, ace only laughed.

he panicked slightly as he found you sleeping on the floor in pomefiore once- vil would not be impressed or happy to see that and give you and probably him some small lecture. or when he found you sleeping on the steps inside the school?? does your back not feel pain?? those are times he'd actually try to wake you up, even if it took him a few attempts.

he does take it upon himself to help you get back to ramshackle, when you're not too far from it yet still managed to fall asleep right by the gate. he found grim complaining and trying to wake you up, with no luck with his paws. like ace would, grim would have you lean on him groggy and tried and he'd help bring you to ramshackle, sighing but he started to even laugh at the whole ridiculousness of it all when he's telling you to be more careful outside.

sebek zigvolt

initially, he didn't even notice you fall asleep as he loudly going on about something. he was a little shocked at first but quickly didn't hesitate to wake you up, claiming with his booming voice that it was improper at school and dangerous...! "and i thought silvers sleeping habits were terrible...!"

he is a knight (in training) and is keen with good senses and quick reactions- so like with jack, if you're literally about to fall or roll in your sleep when your off asleep in some crazy spot he'll swiftly move and stop you. grumbling how unusual it is. and he would never admit it, but you did once startle him when he found you sleeping in a tucked area, he literally reached for his magic pen. would die if you found out and deny it profusely.

it doesn't matter with all the scolding... sebek does help you. and like all the other times wouldn't dare to admit it and his slight soft spot for you. after a few failed attempts at waking, you he'd make sure you get to ramshackle himself, which is no sweat for someone like him. he couldn't believe you were sleeping outside for so long it was starting to rain!

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #ace x reader #deuce x reader #sebek x reader #jack howl x reader #epel x reader

[luffyvace]

MORE LUFFY RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Yeahhh!!! Luffy hcs we’re what my first ever hcs were about! Look how far I’ve come! I love Luffy and I’m so proud of myself! enjoy these Luffy hcs lovely readers <3

Bathing together is SUPER FUN

and messy

you have lots (too many) bubbles

and yes bath toys

even stuff that’s not supposed to be in the bath-

like sticks-

let him tell it they’re swords

he personally doesn’t bathe bc he doesn’t care

even if its mandatory seeing as though no one wants to smell all that funk 😀

so he canonly bathes once a week right??

with you !! He can bathe at any time!

why? Cuz it’s funn 😆😆

you turn it into a game! an adventure!

so now he looks forward to bath time ;3

luffy splashes water everywhere

I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling is drenched with that dude’s strength 😂🤦‍♀️

it takes you FOREVER to clean up

but you know what takes even longer?? GETTING HIM OUT THE BATH

”AWWW but we were having sooo much FUUUUN (NAAAAAME)”

actually it did take a long time til you found a cheat code 😋

tell him sanji’s making food!!

ez way to get him out 😎

The final boss tho??

is getting him to help out with cleaning the mess up

especially after you told him there’s food around🧍‍♀️

Now bro’s DEFINITELY not listening 🙉

unless you use another cheat code (saying you’ll tell sanji not to give him any meat til he helps clean up)

your not getting any help buddy..

he’s already gone by the time you get him out the bath 🤷‍♀️

but again! If you use cheat code no.2 you can get him to help :)

which leads me to…!

Cleaning together !!

which turns into a game too :P

well, more like a competition-

Because that’s the only way you’ll keep him from getting bored and complaining instead of actually cleaning

even with meat on the line 🤭

‘it’s just so boriiiiiiiing ☹️‘

- according to luffy

so yes! You propose a competition!

and whoever cleans the fastest wins the prize of…….you guessed it! MEAT!

now he’s up like a whirlwind, swiping up all the soap with a towel and water with tissue 😏

you probably don’t even have to do anything anymore 😜

he may have won the battle but you won the war

eating together can also sometimes be a competition

now you can win by playing it smart like Uta

or just agree so he can leave you to eat, without actually trying

but if it’s not a competition…it’s certainly a war..

and I mean the dangerous one every straw hat goes through each time sanji calls in for food..

Luffy stealing your food!!!

😦😦

no but seriously, not even you, Luffy’s s/o gets the benefit of the doubt⁉️

it’s every man for himself in the dining room 😂😂

if your intelligent, depending on if your more like Robin or Nami you’ll either be unbothered about his antics or super annoyed

with being unbothered you’ll have a lot more peace of mind

and luffy will probably get away with more of his tomfoolery because you put up with him 😆👍

however with a s/o more like nami who gets annoyed easily, yeah he’s not getting away with any of that

thankfully for her, nami has less to stress over now (you take 50% it’s a requirement)

If your more carefree like luffy

i can guarantee you’ve got on like every straw hats nerves at least once

oddly enough I have a feeling you haven’t been able to bother brook just yet

dude’s 90 he got bigger problems..

but yes you terrorize everyone (even outside the straw hats) whether it’s intentional or not

if your strong it’s a relief for luffy not to have to worry about you and he’ll send you to defeat some guys, protect the ship or protect one of your weaker Nakama

he highly believes in you and your capabilities likes he believes in Zoro 👍

he also doesn’t have to worry about strong attacks hurting you as badly or if you go off on your own/get lost or separated or smth

especially as his s/o

if your weak he probably worries about you a little bit more but all the straw hats can handle themselves to some sort of extent

and he knows for sure you won’t go down without a fight!

and that you can at least hold over until he gets there

then he’ll beat the crap outta those guys!

he always tells someone strong to go with you to fights or what might be dangerous

if he doesn’t have to be somewhere for some reason, he’ll go himself!

he just wants to know your safe :)

Luffy loves you because your you! and he really just appreciates that fact in itself.

he looks past physical appearances completely and goes straight for personality

and even then he doesn’t judge that!

point is, no matter what type of anything you are, Luffy loves you because he just does.

he gets a funny feeling in his stomach and he gets extra excited!

Luffy loves you.

He simply does.

and there’s no explaining why.

These were short but sweet<3

to which i hope you enjoyed them💗

#anime #anime and manga #luffyvace #anime headcanons #fluff headcanons #fluff #one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #straw hat pirates #x male reader #x gn reader #x female reader #luffy x reader #luffy headcanons #luffydmonkey #monkey d. luffy #luffy #straw hat luffy #one piece luffy #monkey d luffy #with: luffy #strawhats #luffy one piece #straw hat crew #enjoy <3 #thank you for your time #thank you so much #thank you for the support #thank you for following me!

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twelve

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven

A/N: ...................I was not expecting this chapter to turn out the way it did.................Hope you guys enjoy! And if you wanna be added to the tag list just lemme know! Oh and do tell me your favorite scene so far!

The walk back had been quiet. Neither teenager felt the need to say anything.

But then there was nothing to say now was there?

She had been attacked by someone who could've hurt Iroh and Zuko, and yet Orora had not said a single word. Despite her own fear, her priority had been to protect the both of them. Besides the fear hadn't been for her. The fear had been the result of her mind conjuring up the various dark outcomes that would come to play should the identity of the two Royals be discovered.

He had pushed her out of the way of an attack, taking the blow meant for her. Granted Orora could've handled herself, but with how scared she had been, and the way he had seen her trembling despite her effort not to, Zuko hadn't wanted to leave it up to chance. His main thought was that he didn't want her getting hurt.

Least of all while protecting him.

Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he was a little surprised to see her walking with her head slightly bent. What was she thinking, he wandered, eyes dropping briefly to the string linking them together. It hung slightly loose, though was rather short, given how their hands were only a foot or so apart.

He looked away. And not a moment later, Orora turned her head slightly to glance at him. The streets were nearly empty, given that it was late in the evening, and yet she found herself walking right next to him. A rather common, yet unconscious, occurrence since they had arrived in Ba Sing Se.

Reaching their building of residence, Orora motioned for him to go ahead. "I need to fill my satchel with fresh water." She gestured to the community well that everyone used.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "And leave you to be attacked by another crazy guy?" Though his gaze was serious, Orora could almost detect a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Playful sarcasm, she hoped.

Her eyes flashed with something akin to annoyance and.........gratitude? Was that it? Jet hadn't sneaked in a kick to his head had he?

While Zuko recalled if what he had seen was real or just the light coming from a nearby open window, Orora quickly bended fresh water into her satchel. Closing the cork she waved her arms, allowing more water to bend up from the well, enough so that she could splash her face with it.

Sighing at the feeling of the cool liquid, her body instantly relaxed. Having water touch her skin had always had a calming effect on her, and she needed to regain her composure after the plethora of emotions she had felt within a span of an hour. Tilting her head to allow the little rivulets of water to run down her face and neck, her eyes focused on the moon above. Inhaling deeply, the young girl smiled, arms hanging loosely at her side as she allowed herself to simply bask in the presence of it.

The sound of water splashing had him glancing in Orora's direction from where he had been looking around, keeping watch. His usual mask of seriousness slipped away as he watched her standing there. Her eyes were focused on the moon, so there was no chance of her catching him looking.

So he continued to gaze upon her.

After a couple of minutes, she walked back to where Zuko was standing. She didn't bother wiping her face, or even bending the water droplets from her skin as she passed him and walked up the stairs.

It was after a few steps when she realized Zuko wasn't following her. Glancing over her shoulder, a hand on the railing to keep her balance, she blinked at the Fire Nation Prince who was staring right at her.

"Aren't you coming?" She asked.

The words seemed to startle him out of whatever daydream he was in. He met her gaze, before abruptly looking away and bolting up the stairs, nearly pushing past her as he did.

Orora frowned in confusion, completely missing the obvious redness that adorned his cheeks given the embarrassment he felt at being caught staring at her so openly.

Then again, he couldn't help himself, his treacherous mind reasoned, she had looked so peaceful and calm in that moment.

Almost serenely pretty.

Shaking his head, pushing his hair back from his forehead, he stepped into their home. It was dark, a problem he remedied by lighting a couple of candles.

With his fire-bending.

An act that prompted Orora to reach out and grasp his wrist from where he had been aiming at another candle.

"What're you doing? You were nearly discovered tonight. Do you want to get caught?" She hissed right in his ear. Zuko only scowled at her. "I wouldn't be careless with my bending Orora. And I checked outside to make sure we weren't followed."

She pursed her lips, looking annoyed once more. An emotion that was a normal occurrence for the two teenagers when it came to dealing with each other. "Be that as it may, I would prefer that we not test with our luck. At least not tonight."

Stepping away from him and dropping his wrist, trying to ignore how comforting his warmth had been for the brief moments she had touched him, she quickly lit more candles. Using spark rocks this time.

Once done, she turned to Zuko, hands on her satchel.

"Take off your shirt."

Having been in the process of drinking some water from the pitcher, Zuko spluttered. Coughing, water dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt, he stared at her wide-eyed and slightly panicked.

"What?!"

Realizing just how she must've sounded, Orora shook her head vigorously, even as her cheeks tinged pink. Despite her dark complexion, the evidence of her embarrassment was still visible.

"Spirits Zuko! So that I can check your chest. Jet hit you pretty hard." She clarified, bending water and coating her hands with it. Wiping the spilled water from his chin, his face still burning, Zuko shook his head. "I'm fine. I don't need you to look at it."

He moved to walk away. "I'm going to bed."

Nostrils flaring in anger, Orora allowed her arms to snap forward, creating twin whips from the water she had meant to use to heal him. The whips wrapped around his wrists and yanked him back. "Hey! What?!" He stumbled but managed to recover his footing as Orora brought him to stand in front of her.

The firebender rounded on her, golden eyes alight with an anger that would send any other person running for the hills. But not Orora. She stared back, calm and cold. A cold anger, he would often muse to himself.

"What was that for? I told you, I don't need your help." Having dropped the whips, she bended the water back inside her satchel, never once letting her eyes stray from his furious face.

"Why do you have to be so reckless about this? About everything?" She demanded. "I'm offering to heal your injury. What if you're hurt badly? What if your injury gets worse if left untreated?"

Zuko scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from her intense gaze. "You're only offering because you feel guilty that I got hurt pushing you out of the way."

That had to be the only reason. She didn't care about him enough to actually be worried about him.

Orora was silent for a beat, blinking at him before she huffed. "You're right. I do feel guilty." He smirked smugly.

He was right.

"But I'm also worried about you."

His mind, or maybe his heart, came to a sudden halt.

Now that he had certainly not been expecting.

Mouth slightly agape, he turned his gaze back in her direction, noting how this time, for once, she couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes found the white patch of hair. An overwhelming feeling overcame him. One that nearly compelled him to reach out and touch it. His fingers twitched at his side, and he would've done it too.

If Orora hadn't looked back up just then.

"You didn't even comprehend the situation before you decided to fight Jet. What if he had been a better fighter then you?" She asked. Though she had claimed that she was worried for him, her tone sounded angry.

A feeling he reciprocated as the scowl returned to crease his forehead. "But he wasn't. And I won. Besides, he was about to attack, Orora. If I hadn't defended myself, I would've definitely gotten hurt worse."

"We could've talked to him." She tried to reason, prompting Zuko to let out a laugh of disbelief. "Are you honestly that naive? Do you think he would've listened to you?"

She was nearly fuming with anger at his tone and his words. Condescending would be the best way to describe them both. She could even see it in his face from how close he was standing to her. Only a small step away. "Its not about being naive, Zuko. Its called avoiding a physical conflict where it can be avoided."

"We're here to build a peaceful life." She continued. "And that means not getting into physical fights with the first threat that comes our way. Fighting isn't always the answer."

Zuko glared at her before moving to turn away. "I've spent the last few years fighting Orora, and it's whats kept me alive and helped me survive." So saying, he started to walk towards their bedrooms once more. He didn't want her to be satisfied by the fact that what she said was true. Zuko was almost afraid she would be able to read his mind and see what was in his heart if she looked at him hard enough with those intense blue eyes of hers.

But Orora wasn't having it.

She was tired. Tired of the half-truths and the lies. Tired of not getting the full picture. Tired of being unable to understand him.

But what frustrated her the most? Was that she couldn't help him.

And she wanted to. So badly.

"So thats it then is it?!" She called after him, her voice raising slightly. "You're just gonna keep fighting until it gets you killed?" Her words brought him to a sudden halt, an act that prompted her to keep speaking. "You fight all the time Zuko. And not just with me or your Uncle. You fight life. You fight against what fate has planned for you in that moment. You never allow yourself to simply......be!"

She could see the tension in his shoulders before he turned to face her. "Well life hasn't been kind to me Orora, its why I fight back." He responded, his voice matching her tone. "I have to fight, because if I don't I'll only loose more pieces of myself like I have over the years."

"You'll loose yourself anyway just by fighting so much. Not to mention all the good things you'll miss in life." Silence followed her words, several moments where the both of them just stared at one another.

"You don't have to fight all the time Zuko." She said, her voice soft and gentle.

He clenched his fists and nearly bared his teeth. "Yes, I do!"

She threw her arms in the air, a breathless laugh of disbelief falling from her lips as she did. "Spirits, why do you intend to fight with me even on this?! I know you think I'm right. I can see it in your face. I've known you long enough to read you Zuko."

"Don't pretend like you know anything about me, Orora." He all but growled, stalking forward so that they were nearly nose to nose. "You know nothing."

She had to tilt her head back to look at him properly. "Alright then fine, tell me. Why do you fight all the time then? Why are you so intent on attacking anything or anyone, even if its someone who offers you kindness and love?"

"Because its who I am."

"Thats not an answer."

"Yes it is!"

"It's not and you know it. You're always giving your opinion on everything why not this huh? Why do you insist on being so stubborn? Why do you always fight back?"

"Because the last time I didn't fight back, I had my face burned off by my father!"

Silence.

A horrified silence followed his outburst.

Zuko's eyes widened in horror as his mind caught up with what he had said. And while his mind worked a mile a moment, trying to come up with something that would help him take back what he had just said, what he had just revealed, Orora's mind was sluggishly trying to process what she had just heard.

His father.

Her face paled.

The scar.

Her pale blue eyes found the marred skin widening in sheer horror.

His father had burned his face?!

She opened her mouth, looking as if she were about to say something.

But what?

Behind Orora the latch on the door pushed up, the door opened, and Iroh stepping in carrying several bowls of food on a tray. "The restaurant by the tea shop were kind enough to offer us food for the night and I could not refuse." He stopped short at the sight that greeted him.

His nephew and his pupil both in fighting stances, Orora with ice daggers clutched in either of her hands, and Zuko looking ready to throw a fireball.

Iroh's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the two children. This is what the war had turned them into. Being on guard every moment of the day, ready to defend themselves against the enemy. "You need not be so tense, the danger has passed." He tried to reassure them, and though they did drop their defensive positions, the tension in their bodies remained.

"I'm going to bed." Zuko stated, and before Iroh could even ask him about dinner the young prince had disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Is he alright?" The concerned man asked, to which Orora gave a small shrug. His face settled into a concerned look. Something had happened, he sensed, between the both of them.

And it would be best if he not step in, he mused to himself as he and Orora ate in silence. Allow them to work it out between themselves, he reasoned as he watched his pupil play with her food rather then eat it.

He did notice how she put a plate on top of Zuko's bowl of food, in an effort to keep it warm.

                                          ————————–

It was well past midnight, she was sure.

And yet she couldn't sleep.

She hadn't even bothered going to bed. Instead, once Iroh had retired, she had opted on making herself some tea. Clutching the smooth clay cup, she had settled on the floor, back against the wall. She had removed her dress for the day, leaving her in a loose shirt and baggy pair of trousers. Her shoes were discarded on the floor, and she had removed the comb from her hair. At every other interval she would lift the cup to her lips to take a sip of the sweet concoction she had brewed, but other then that, she remained still.

Her mind, however, was racing faster then she had ever thought possible. And yet, none of them seemed to be making sense. She would start thinking of something, before another thought would overtake it.

The only thing all her thoughts had in common was that they were all centered around her soulmate.

A sudden thump from above had her nearly jumping out of her skin. Dropping the nearly empty cup with a small clatter, she was jumping out from the window just behind her and had swinging herself up onto the roof.

Only to stop short when she saw what, or rather who had made the noise.

Zuko stared back at her, looking just as startled as she felt. "I'm-I'm sorry. I just thought it was someone attacking again." She quickly explained, feeling a little embarrassed. Why was she so paranoid about the smallest of noises? She hadn't been this way while they were roaming the countryside.

For his part, Zuko shook his head. "Its fine." He was sitting the slightly slanted roof. His hair was mussed, as if he had been tossing in bed, and his sleep clothes were rumpled. He was wearing nearly the same style of clothing she was, though his shirt had no sleeves to them. Her curiosity got the better of her as she asked. "What're you doing up here?"

The banished prince shrugged in response. "Couldn't sleep." There was an almost resigned tone in his voice as he spoke. Orora nodded. "Yeah, me neither."

Their eyes met, a mutual understanding passing between the both of them. Finally, Zuko, being the first to look away, sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I suppose, you have some questions." Biting her lower lip, Orora gave a small shrug. "Only if you want to answer them. I don't want to force you or anything."

He shook his head. "No, I think....well....you've stayed by us for so long. You........you deserve to know." Not wanting to see her reaction to his offer, especially if it was negative, he turned away.

A small stretch of silence, one where Zuko thought that maybe she didn't want to know. Didn't want anything to do with him. Then again, who would? His own father had banished him. His mother had left him. And his sister had never liked him.

But then he felt her coming to stand next to him before settling down. She mirrored his pose, legs against the chest, arms wrapped around them, chin placed between the valley of her knees. His arms rested atop his knees though, both their gazes trained towards the skyline of Ba Seng Se.

"Did your father really...." She trailed off, shifting her head so she could look at him. For his part, Zuko didn't move his gaze, however he did nod. "He did. It was punishment, for speaking against him at a War Council."

"Kind of a harsh one don't you think?" She muttered, to which Zuko shook his head. "I deserved it." The three words slipped so easily out of his mouth that Orora literally froze from the shock of it. How could he even think he deserved to be punished so brutally? Zuko was oblivious to her inner turmoil as he continued. "I spoke against him in front of the entire War Council. It was not my place to question him or doubt his decision."

"But you're the Prince. Aren't you allowed to give your opinion?" She asked, wandering just how politics worked in the Fire Nation.

He shook his head. "Not when it goes against the Fire Lord's word."

Orora frowned. "But what if his word is wrong?" Her question had the Prince tensing up, something that she caught prompting her to ask her next question. "He was wrong wasn't he?" Had Zuko been burned because his father didn't like to be called out when he did something wrong?

"One of the Generals suggested they send new recruits as a diversion. Sacrifice them, use them as bait." A dark frown marred his forehead. "Fresh meat he called them."

A cold feeling erupted in her spine, traveling down to the very tips of her toes, and racing through her veins. "How could they do that? They were just soldiers following orders." She spoke, her voice soft with disbelief, eyes wide.

Zuko turned his head to look at her, a surprised look playing about his features. "That's exactly what I said, but it wasn't my place to speak out. I disrespected the War Council, which in turn meant I disrespected the Fire Lord. I challenged them, and a challenge in the Fire Nation means-"

"An Agni Kai."

He stopped short, giving her a surprised look. "I didn't think you would know about that." She gave a small shrug. "I used to read a lot. And that included reading about all the other Nations as well. Didn't have anything else to do at the North Pole." She admitted with a small smile. Zuko returned the smile before continuing, the curve of his lips disappearing.

"So yeah, I had to fight an Agni Kai. I had thought I would be fighting the old General who had come up with the plan. But when I faced my opponent, I found out it was my father."

Orora released a startled breath, eyes widening in horror. "Spirits. Is that when he burned you? While you were fighting him? Wait no, you said you didn't fight back against your father." She corrected herself, remembering their conversation from earlier.

He nodded. "Yeah, I didn't fight him. I could never fight my father. I begged for forgiveness, told him I always had the Nation's best interest at heart but it was no use, and well," He turned his head to look at her fully. "You see the result of it everyday."

Orora had to remind herself to breath as she allowed her gaze to land on his scar. Just because he had spoken what was right, he'd been burned, scarred for the rest of his life.

"And if that wasn't enough." Wait there was more? "He banished me from the Fire Nation. Said I had dishonored him, and the only way to regain my honor, and be welcomed home was if I found and captured the Avatar."

She frowned. "But Aang only appeared a few months ago. How long ago did your father banish you?" She asked, trying to figure it out in her head.

"Well, I was thirteen when I was banished, spent almost three years traveling the world looking for him, chased him for months up to the North Pole. Lost my ship and my crew. My sister declared us traitors to the Fire Nation and since then we've been living as fugitives." He let out a dry chuckle. "Its been a few eventful years."

Orora waved her hand. "Wait wait! Go back, I'm still stuck on the first part. You were thirteen?!"

He frowned but nodded. "Yes?"

"You were only thirteen years old when your father burned you and banished you?" She confirmed again, her voice breathless in her disbelief.

He frowned. "Whats so difficult to understand about that?"

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because Orora looked like she was about to tackle him. "Whats so difficult?! Whats so difficult!?" Her voice rose slightly as she moved to sit on her knees beside him. "Whats difficult for me is that I don't understand how your own father scarred you for life, before banishing you from your own home?! How could he do that?"

He blinked at her, looking a little startled at her outburst. "Didn't your father banish you too? Just because you were fighting for the right thing like I was?"

She stopped short. "Oh." Where she had been speaking so passionately before, she slumped where she sat. "Right, I forgot."

Zuko blinked at her. "How could you forget something so important?" He asked, sounding just as incredulous as he looked. She shrugged. "I mean I do remember it from time to time, but I don't let it define who I am."

She gave him a meaningful look, one that had him pursing his lips and looking away. "And at least I wasn't a kid when my father threw me out." She reasoned, to which Zuko gave a small smirk. "We're still kids Orora. I mean teenagers are considered kids right?"

Nodding, she hummed. "Thats debatable, for the both of us. I mean we've both been banished by our fathers. You were scarred. I was disinherited. You're wanted by your Nation. I nearly died. And I'm sure attempts have been made on your life." She looked at him in a questioning manner to which he gave a small nod.

Sighing Orora closed her eyes, before shrugging. "I don't think I would use the word kids to describe us Zuko." She finally stated, straightening so she was sitting facing the skyline once more.

Though this time, she sat much closer to Zuko then before. The lull in conversation allowed her to think on what she had heard so far. But the lack of mention of someone had her frowning in confusion.

"You've talked about your father, your sister and I know you have an Uncle, but what about your mother?"

She could physically feel him tense up beside her. Turning her head, she watched as an unbearably sad look overcame his features. For once, he didn't bother to hide his emotions. "She disappeared a long time ago. No one knows where. The official story is that she died, but she just....left."

Spirits, she had never heard his voice sound so broken and hopeless.

"Were you two close?" She asked, her voice soft and barely above a whisper, as if afraid any loud noise would shatter the moment. He nodded. "I.....she was.....is the only person who really knew me. I've never been that close with anyone. Not even Uncle."

There were still parts of himself that he had no intention of sharing with his Uncle, though he knew the old man was already aware of them.

"My parents weren't soulmates, so it was easy for her to leave I suppose." He added, feeling that all too familiar anguish settling in his chest whenever he would think about his mother leaving him behind too.

Something warm and soft pressed against his arm, before slowly sliding up to cover his hand. He turned his head to see Orora right beside him, her eyes trained to where her hand covered his.

"I'm sure that whatever reasons she had for leaving, it broke her heart to leave you." Earnest ice blue eyes raised to meet his amber gold hues. "I'm sure she loved you Zuko. Maybe, one day, you can go and look for her."

A blush stole across her cheeks, a nervousness overcoming her, but she continued. "And when you do, if you'd like, I can be there with you to help however I can." Zuko stared back, mouth slightly agape. He couldn't understand why she would offer to do something like that. Help him. No one had ever offered to help him voluntarily. He had always had to fight for his right to be heard, seen and, at one point, even to live.

Feeling that perhaps she had overstepped a little bit, Orora shifted her gaze to look out to the sky once more. It was beginning to change color. Dawn was approaching. "But only if you need it." She added, her grip on his hand not letting up. "I don't want to overstep any boundaries or anything."

"Why?"

That one word had her frowning in confusion as she looked back at him. "Why what?"

He had a rather adorably confused look. "Why would you want to help me?"

Orora blinked. "Oh." She pursed her lips before answering. "Because its the right thing to do."

Though her answer was spoken in a kind tone, Zuko couldn't help but feel disappointed. About what though, he had no idea. Brushing a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, Orora sighed and continued.

"And also because, somewhere during these few months, despite how we met and whatever animosity has been between the both of us, I've come to see you as a friend Zuko." Spirits, her face felt like it was on fire!

For his part Zuko wasn't any better. While her blush was subtle given her tanned skin, his was more then obvious. The sight of Zuko blushing did have an involuntary laugh falling from her lips. The two of them lapsed into silence, watching as the sky grew lighter in color, and as the first beam of sunshine appeared, Zuko felt his entire body thrum with energy at the sight of the rising sun.

"Well so long as you can tolerate the ugly scar and bad temper, I suppose you can come along." He tried to joke, though the mention of his scar had her frowning darkly.

"Its not an ugly scar Zuko." She stated firmly, moving so she could sit on her knees again. This time she held his hand in both of her own in the space between the two of them. "You got the scar because you were trying to protect innocent lives. The person who gave you the scar? They're the ones who are truly ugly Zuko." He looked like he was about to argue, but she didn't let him.

"Even if I hadn't heard this story, I would never think of your scar as ugly, because I never would've judged you on your appearance." Her gaze had not left his during her entire speech, but now it did. A kind smile played at her lips as she reached out with her other hand, to place it atop his chest, where she could feel his heart beating under her touch.

"You are a beautiful person Zuko. You've proven it so many times since the day we met at the North Pole. And no scar is going to hide your kind heart."

Zuko felt as if Orora's voice was echoing in his ears, her words sounded strange. No one had ever associated such words with him. Yet here was a girl, he had not even known a few months ago, looking at him so openly, kindly and earnestly that he felt that this was nothing but an illusion.

Clearing his throat, the young prince averted his gaze, unable to continue looking at her. "Th-thank you, Orora." It was a miracle how he was able to form just those simple words. Spirits, he was going to be permanently red in the face if she kept saying all those things to him.

Sensing that maybe she had embarrassed him enough, the young waterbender retreated her hands from his person, though neither of them missed how his hand flinched when her hand left his. Almost as if he were about to reach out and grasp it again.

"I should get down and get a few hours of sleep before we have to work." She stated, slowly standing up and brushing the front of her clothes. "See you later, Zuko." Her heart was lightened for once. She hoped that what she had said would help him somehow.

He had to say something! Anything! Anything to assure her that her words didn't fall on deaf ears, that her kindness to him wasn't something he was about to throw right back in her face. He had done that too many times, and she was right. Maybe it was time to accept the kindness people showed him from time to time.

"Orora?" He called out to the parting waterbender, trying not to recall just how warm her hand had felt enveloped in his own a few moments ago.

"Hmm?" She turned around to look at him, a smile on her lips.

One that he mirrored as he said. "I'm glad that we're friends." He admitted, prompting the girl's smile to widen even more.

"So am I Zuko."

Deep down they had both come to care for one another, and not just because they were soulmates, but because they were friends.

                                          ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10

#zuko imagine #prince zuko x oc #prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko #zuko x y/n #prince zuko x y/n #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #avatar the last airbender #the thread of fate

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Hey Jealousy

Pairing: EddieXReader

Request: May i request Construction Worker Eddie x Hairstylist Reader? Established relationship Jealous Eddie he comes into his fiancé’s hair salon during his lunch flowers & coffee in hand🥹🤍 the customer in her chair is flirting with her , she is paying him no mind just keeps on cutting his hair laughing but not flirting, once they get home for the day a little bit of ANGST , but reader knows how to make sure Eddie knows she only wants him que in the SMUT🥰😩

@mmunson86

18+ Only

Eddie pulled open the door to the hair salon, walking in with a big grin. He'd come to surprise you at work on his lunch. He knew how much you loved to see him in his gear, his hard hat had been used in the bedroom on more than one occassion. He had stopped at the florist and grabbed a bouquet of daisies, your favorite, and then popped into the coffee shop next door for your afternoon pick me up latte that he knew you always required.

He saw you working on a customer, some guy in your chair. He looked maybe a couple years older than you, blonde and buff in a fitted tee and cargo pants. Eddie watched as he said something and you laughed, one of his favorite sounds in the world, but the sound of it coming from you because of that guy caused something ugly to twist up inside of him.

"Man, I am serious. If you're down here cutting my hair, then who's running heaven?"

You smiled, shaking your head, and just continued to cut, not responding. Eddie's grip on your coffee cup tightened, causing hot liquid to splash over. He jumped, cursing, when his burned the skin of his hand.

You glanced up, catching sight of him in the mirror, and beamed, spinning around. Your eyes took in the floors and then the smushed coffee cup and you tilted your head, looking concerned and a bit confused.

"Hey baby...you okay?" you asked sweetly.

"Fine. I was on my lunch and thought I would surprise you." He held up his gifts, his tone sharp and annoyed.

"That's so sweet," you replied uncertainly, clearly put off by the obvious difference between his words and his body language. "You know I love when I get to see you in the middle of the day."

"Yeah, looks like it. I'll just set these here." He hurriedly placed them on your counter, shooting a glare to the guy sitting in your chair for good measure, satisfied when he recoiled slightly. Good. Let him think twice before he hit on Eddie's girl again. "I'll see you at home."

"Eddie, wait...what..."

But he turned and went out the door, the sound of the bell tinkling overhead.

___________________________________________________________

You walked in the door after work, annoyed and ready for a fight. Eddie had ruined the rest of your day with his behavior. He was clearly pissed and you had no idea what the hell you had done to make him so.

He laid on the couch, beer in his hand, watching some rock documentary on MTV. You tossed your purse on the coffee table and sat down in the chair in the corner to remove your shoes, feet killing you after an eight hour shift of standing. Eddie didn't even acknowledge your presence, no usual kiss and hello, no sweeping you up in his arms and telling you how much he missed you and that upset you more than anything.

"Okay, what exactly did I do to get you all pissed off at me?" you demanded. "Because I have been wracking my brain but I can't come up with one damn thing I could have done in the whole two minutes you were in the shop."

Eddie did an overly dramatic, unkind imitation of you laughing, tossing his head back and holding his chest, "Oh, you think I'm an angel fallen from heaven? Oh, that's so sweet. Oh, I'm just going to melt right now."

Your eyes narrowed, "Are you fucking serious? I didn't say any of those damn things. I didn't even respond to him, Eddie."

"You may as well have with your laughing and smiling."

"Get bent! I have a job, a job that depends on tips and customers returning because they're happy with my work. What did you want me to do?"

"Throw him out of your chair! You have a boyfriend or did you forget that?"

"I didn't forget anything but I am not throwing a customer out of my chair because they were a bit flirty. After you left, he was silent. I finished his cut, he paid, and he left. I never gave him any indication that I was interested. I would never and you should damn well know that. I can't believe you don't trust me, Eddie."

"I never said I didn't trust you," he grumbled. "Look, I know it's stupid. I know you wouldn't do that but I hate when other guys flirt with you. Hell, I hate when they so much as look at you. You're mine. I just don't want you deciding that maybe you'd be better off with one of them."

"Baby..." You dropped to the floor, sliding on your knees over to the couch, sitting in front of him. Your fingers ran through his hair, playing with the ends. "That is never going to happen because you're the only one I want. I am yours, only yours, always. And you're mine."

You rose onto your knees, pressing your lips against his, your tongue slipping along his bottom lip, teasing until he parted his lips, his tongue finding yours, curling around it. HIs hand gripped the back of your head, crushing your mouths against each other as your hand slid under his shirt, fingers playing with the hair just above the button of his jeans and he groaned, low and slow, into the kiss.

"You are the only man I ever want," you whispered against his lips, unbutton and then unzipping his pants. "You are everything I want." You grabbed onto them, Eddie helping by lifting his hips and then using his feet to shove them down his legs and off, pooling on the floor. "Let me show you how much I want you."

You climb onto the couch, settling between his legs, his eyes watching you intently, dark with desire. Gripping his length in your hand, you stroke him softly, watching as his mouth drops open, listening to the soft growl that comes from back in his throat, feeling him against your hand, soft yet rigid.

"Fuck baby," Eddie hisses, hips rising up off the couch, needy for more.

"You should know by now how much I want you, Eddie," you muse, dropping to your stomach, your hand continuing to move over him ay just the tip of your tongue slides along the underside of his cock and it twitches in response. "I guess I just have to keep reminding you."

"Yeah, princess, remind me," he demands, crying out as you lick his full length again.

This time, when you reach the head, you wrap your lips around it, just the head, sucking it in, swirling your tongue over it, tasting the salty precum that collected there. You suck a little harder as your hand continues to slip along the length and Eddie's hand tangles roughly in your hair. He pushes on your head, trying to get you to take all of him but you hold back.

"Shit...oh shit...princess, come on."

You release the head of dick with a loud pop, your hand stilling, a devilish smile on your face as you look up at your boyfriend, desperate and needy for your mouth. It is such a fucking high when you get him like this, willing to beg for you. He releases a sound of frustration.

"Oh, if you don't use your words Eddie, how am I supposed to know what you want?" you tease, flicking the tip with your tongue and his hand in your hair balls into a fist, tugging it from the scalp, sending shivers of pleasure straight to your core.

"Take all of it, sweetheart," he growled. "Come on. Take all of my cock. I know you can."

"Now, that's my good boy," you praised and then you swallowed him whole, humming with delight when he bellowed, back arching, hips raising. You pressed your hands against him, pushing him back down.

"Yes baby, that's it...so good...goddamn..." Eddie gasped, hips rolling against your mouth, fucking it, the tip of him scratching the back of your throat each time. "Love that pretty little mouth...takes me so good...Jesus Christ..."

Replacing your mouth with your hand, you continued pumping his length, tongue slipping along the underside of him to lick at his balls, teasing. When you took one of them between your lips, sucking and rolling it, the sound Eddie made was animalistic, a sound you weren't sure you could describe if you wanted to.

"Don't stop baby, just like that...fuck...sweetheart...fuck me..."

You moved to the other one, lavishing it with attention, keeping a firm grip on him, feeling his balls tighten as his orgasm built up. It wouldn't be long now. Your tongue ran over the sides of his cock, your hand cradling his balls, continuing to stimulate them, as you took him back in your mouth. You worked your mouth over him, once, twice, three times and then his hand was gripping your hair so hard that your scalp was stinging and he was shooting ribbons of release down your throat as he cried your name over and over.

"Jesus...shit...fuck..." he muttered, collapsing back on the couch, that beautiful mane plastered to his sweaty face.

You sat back, swallowing, swiping the side of your mouth with your finger to gather what had spilled out, satisfied with yourself for making him lose all control. It was so empowering to know you could make him come completely undone for you. Eddie propped himself up on his elbows, staring at you and then he was on you, ripping off your clothes and tossing them every which way.

His hands gripped your knees, pressing them apart. One hand grabbed onto the arm of the couch, the other gripping his length, pumping it a couple times to get himself ready once again. He placed the tip at your entrance, slipping it through your wetness, through your folds, running it over your clit teasingly.

"You want this cock, baby?" he whispered, dipping his head, nose brushing over yours.

"Yes..."

"You only want this cock, don't you?"

"Yes, only yours," you breathed, your fingers running over his back, craving the feel of him filling you, stretching you.

"That's right. My cock is the only one that will ever fill this pussy," he demanded as he slid inside of you, pressing until he filled you to the hilt, holding himself still, closing his eyes and just relishing the feel of your warm wetness surrounding him. "And this pussy is mine."

He pulled back until only just the tip was left, leaving you feeling empty but then he slammed back into you with force, your skin slapping together loudly, echoing throughout the room. You gasped, nails raking over his skin as he did it again and again, forceful thrusts that were meant to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

Eddie's hand ran over your calf, bringing your leg up, his lips pressing over the skin of her leg and ankle before pressing it back by your ear, allowing him to press even deeper within you. You saw stars when his cock hit that delicious little spot that had you screaming his name. His other hand came to your breast, kneading and pinching and twisting, leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him.

"Who do you belong to, baby?" he hissed, hips rolling over yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

"You...only you...fuck..."

"Only me, always me, forever," Eddie confirmed, hand slipping from your breast and between your bodies to tease at your clit, pinching, flicking, circling, rubbing as you gasped, panted, chest heaving, eyes rolling.

"Only you...all I want...fuuuuck....you're all I want...."

You were losing all control. You were a pressure cooker that was about to explode, sending remnants everywhere. You couldn't stop it if you wanted to and fuck, you definitely didn't want to. Your back arched, nails digging into his back and raking down, as you screamed long and loud, your orgasm exploding from within you.

"Fuck yes, princess. You're so damn beautiful when you lose control," he grunted, rutting deeply within you, chasing his own release. "Jesus H. Christ...I'm gonna baby, I'm....shiiiiiiit!"

Eddie's body rocked over top of you, muscles quivering under your fingers as he filled you once again. He stilled, head dropping and then collapsed on top of you, pressing gentle kisses to every single inch of your face.

"Fucking shit...that was so damn good..." he groaned.

"Yeah," you gasped, cradling his head against your chest. "So, did I do a good job of reminding you? Are we done acting like a big old baby? Do we know that it doesn't matter if other men flirt with me because you're the only one I want?"

"Yes." He lifted his head, smiling sheepishly at you. "But you know, I might still need reminding sometimes. My memory isn't always the best."

"Oh yeah?" you laughed, hands coming to his cheeks, gazing down lovingly at this man who drove you crazy in more ways than one.

"Yeah, definitely. Lots of reminders would be appreciated," he grinned, pressing his lips to yours.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader

[ateotd-izzy]

maroon | thomas x fem!reader

“the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me”

during his first night in the glade, thomas (quite literally) bumps into a girl.

“and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was maroon”

as more time passes, thomas becomes closer with y/n (very close), but that changes after they escape the maze.

“the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones”

warnings: it’s bad, kissing, maze runner, swearing and whatever (i never know what to write here)

“the lips i used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon”

☾

“our med-jacks, clint and jeff.” newt introduced to the greenie as he showed the boy around. “and this is— woah, watch out.”

the greenie hadn’t been watching where he was going and bumped right into you as you walked past, spilling the drink he had been holding all over your shirt.

“oh, god, i am so…” he paused as he met your eyes. a girl? “sorry.”

you looked down at your soaking wet shirt and a few boys around snickered.

“thanks.” you smiled sarcastically and turned on your heel, heading towards the small hut that sat not far from the homestead.

“nice one, greenie.” newt clapped him on the back. “i think you just ruined her day.”

“who was that?” the boy asked, watching as you disappeared behind the door of the hut.

“y/n. she’s one of the runners.” newt answered. “also the glade’s only girl.”

“oh.”

inside you were changing your shirt, muttering in annoyance as you did so.

your favorite shirt (out of the five or so you owned) was now covered in gally’s foul-smelling drink thanks to that greenie.

after changing, you went outside to join the party again, only for it to be declared over moments after the greenie remembered his name.

thomas.

“uh, hey.” he jogged over to you as you walked back to your hut. “i’m, um, i’m sorry about before. is your shirt okay?”

“it’ll survive.” you shrugged. “i guess.”

“so, you’re a runner?” he asked, walking with you. “you go into the maze with that minho guy?”

“yep.” you glanced at him. “are you just going to follow me the whole way?”

“oh, sorry.” he slowed down. “um, i’ll go now.”

“okay.” you stared.

“see you around, y/n.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “right. see you around…”

“thomas.”

“see you around, thomas.”

while it may not have seemed like it, you and thomas became pretty close friends over the next week or so, and you felt dumb to admit that you even had feelings for him.

he was in the same boat. except thomas was head-over-heels in love with you.

you kissed once. when the glade was being attacked by grievers, he kissed you before the two of you split up.

so after your group escaped the maze, the two of you did your best to stick together.

the two of you sat on the floor of the room your group had been forced into after being ‘saved’.

your legs were stretched out to sit in his lap, and his hands sat on top of them.

the rest of the group was around, all full after eating more food than they’d ever seen in their lives.

you couldn’t focus on the conversation that was going on between teresa and the boys, because all you could focus on was how thomas’ fingers drew small shapes on the bare skin of your leg where your pants had rolled up a little.

you wanted to tell him how you felt. you wanted to kiss him again. but everyone else was around, and the thought of being in front of everyone made you uncomfortable.

you had no clue how thomas did his whole leader thing.

when the door to the room opened, everyone jumped up and ran over, eager to know exactly what was going on.

the man who had opened the door introduced himself as mr. janson and led your group through the compound.

thomas held your hand the whole time.

“first things first, let’s do something about that smell.”

the boys were being taken to a different room to you and teresa. just before your hand slipped from his, you kissed thomas on the cheek. simple enough.

that night you properly kissed again and he asked you to be his girlfriend, and despite all of your worries, you said yes.

it wasn’t long after that when your group had to leave the compound with another boy, aris. you still hadn’t escaped wicked.

you stuck by thomas’ side the whole time, or until you were separated again.

you didn’t even know if he was alive, but jorge was confident he and brenda were fine.

it took a few days until you reached what jorge called marcus’ place.

you got into the party and the first thing you spotted was thomas and brenda.

kissing.

then they pulled apart, thomas said something and brenda wandered off.

thomas seemed to spin around the room until he yelled out and collapsed.

your heart was broken.

you were separated for just a few days, the longest since you had met, and he was kissing a girl he barely knew.

you couldn’t even say anything to him because he was out cold. instead you had to help minho drag him upstairs and act like nothing happened.

then, after he woke up, your group was on the run again, searching for the right arm.

in the car, thomas reached his hand over and tried to take yours in his, but you pulled yours back. you didn’t let him.

he looked at you. he was confused.

you didn’t answer his look. you just turned your head away from him and looked out the car window.

he had no clue why you were suddenly ignoring him. not the entire drive to the mountains, not when the were taken to the right arm camp, not when brenda collapsed.

it was only when he was in the tent with her later, just after brenda woke up, when it clicked to him why.

you had seen brenda kiss him.

everything seemed to click into place at that moment, and he jumped to his feet halfway through his conversation with brenda.

“you okay?” she asked.

“yeah. yeah, there’s just something i need to do.” thomas looked down at her. “i’m sorry, i’ll be back later.”

then he ran out of the tent.

the camp was large, and thomas had no clue where he could find you. or any of his friends for that matter.

it took about ten minutes of searching until he found you.

you were sitting alone on a rock, looking down at your feet and mumbling something to yourself.

“y/n?”

you looked up and thomas realized you had been crying.

“what?”

there was a twinge of bitterness in your voice, and thomas frowned. it reminded him of how you had spoken to him the night you met, when he had splashed his drink into you.

“you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

he knew you weren’t, and he ignored the obvious signs that you didn’t want him around when he sat down beside you.

“what do you want, thomas?” you asked.

without another word, he simply wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

at first, you thought about trying to pull away. but you didn’t.

“why’d you kiss her? brenda?” you asked eventually. “do you like her better? because, you know, i’ll back off or whatev—”

“no, no, no, y/n.” he pulled back so he could look you in the eyes. “i could never like anyone better than i like you.”

“then why—?”

“she kissed me.” thomas told you, cupping your cheek with one hand. “we were drugged, okay? i…”

thomas winced slightly at the memory of brenda’s face after his words.

“i thought she was you.” he admitted. “whatever that marcus guy put in that drink had me seeing the weirdest shit.”

“are you calling me weird shit?” you teased and thomas’ eyes widened.

“what? no.” he shook his head. “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know. i was kidding.”

you grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized.

“don’t be. i get it now.” you shrugged.

“yeah, but i could’ve said something sooner.”

“when?” you asked. “when you were passed out? or when we were almost shot by mountain people?”

he chuckled. “okay, maybe not. but—”

“tommy, i get it. don’t worry.”

the feeling of freedom and happiness that evening was short lived, and soon became a nightmare.

teresa betrayed them, wicked burned the camp to the ground, and multiple people were taken.

sonya, aris, minho and you.

thomas had lost you. he had lost the battle. but he was determined to get you and minho and everyone else back.

he would do anything he could. he would do whatever it took to get you back.

taglist: @brvceyamada

a/n: why don’t these ever turn out like they sounded in my head LMAO

#thomas x reader #the maze runner #the scorch trials #the death cure #tmr x reader #tmr thomas #tmr thomas x reader #thomas #tmr minho #tmr newt #gally #tmr gally #tmr teresa #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien #tmr fic #tmr chuck

[shelbgrey]

helloo!!! me and my friend absolutely adore your fics, and her birthdays coming up... so i was wondering if i could request a draco malfoy (her favourite character) x reader fic for her? :))

you can do whatever you want with the storyline, i just think it would be a cool idea!!

🫶

The truth doesn't always hurt(Draco Malfoy)

Paring: Draco malfoy X Weasley!Reader

Summary: as Draco and Ron's twin sister serve detention Cleaning for Professor Snap a bottle of Truth potion shatteres around them.

A/n: I hate the beginning of this, but I hope you enjoy the story.

Prompt: 1.9) “You saw the good in me when no one else did...so thank you”

💚MasterList 💚Potter MasterList

Draco was sitting next to y/n Weasley In Snape's potion class. To their displeasure they were assigned as partners for a project. Draco put an ingredient in the pot for the potion, making smoke puff up.

“Watch it!” I said, backing up from the table before smoke could get in my face.

“quiet Weasley, it's not like you understand what's going on anyhow” Draco said, obviously trying to get a reaction out of me.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him and put the next ingredient in it. This time it bubbled up and splashed around.

It was like Draco was waiting for an argument, and since I ignored him he was annoyed and wasn't gonna let up. “That's going to spill. Stop that”

“I know what I'm doing!” I snapped.

“Doesn't look like you do.” Draco smirked and got up, grabbing my wand out of my hand.

I shoved him back a little and pulled my wand out of his reach. “I wouldn't” I knew how to fight just because I was a Weasley and had a bunch of older brothers.

Draco smirked, finding this amusing and deciding to have a little fun. “I bet you'll run telling your mummy next” he poked in a hypocritical voice.

“No... But maybe I'll tell George, from what I hear he whooped your ass at the last quidditch game… And I'm not talking about Gryffindor winning the game”

That got Draco a little mad. He was pretty sure he'd never lost to some Weasley, but he did play against one of them in the last match, and he did lose.

“Shut up, just shut up” Draco said with rage.

I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “What? Did I hit a nerve? Don't dish it out if you can't take it malfoy”

Draco lunged forward, grabbing me by the collar of my robe, his breathing became fast with anger. “Watch who you are speaking to!”

I pushed him back, making him tumble backwards into the table. The pot with our potion spilled all over the floor.

This caught the Professor's attention, and Snape approached the duo with a frown. “Malfoy! Weasley! Detention and clean up that mess immediately!” Snape growled. I clenched my jew and pushed Draco away making his grip on my robe go slack.

Snape grabbed us both by the collars and pushed them toward the closet with the cleaning supplies.

“You both will have detention this evening. Do not ever cause another fight like this again, or you'll be in real trouble” Snape's tone was cold as he spoke.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“You guys will stay here and organize and dust all the potions and ingredients” Snape ordered as he gathered the assignments to grade.

“For how long?” Malfoy sighed. Before Snape could open the door to leave he whipped around. “till I say so”

He left without a word and Malfoy threw his robe on one of the desks aggressively and rolled up the sleeves of his sweater.

“I can't believe I'm stuck here” he growled as he grabbed a vial and wiped some dust off the label and tossed it to the side. It would have shattered if it didn't land on his wrinkled up robe. I cringed expecting the sharp sound of glass shattering but it didn't happen.

“could you at least be careful?” I said, crossing my arms. He gave me a dirty look and tossed me a rag. “get to work I don't want to be stuck here all night”

“oh because that would be a bloody tragedy” I said sarcastically as I grabbed a potion book and dusted it off and put it to the side.

Malfoy started to mumble under his breath. “wait till-”

“Wait till my father hears about this... I know” I said, cutting him off as polished a bottle of poly juice. He gave me a sighed eye.

He tossed some more things around making me cringe. The thought of breaking something and Snape coming in scared the crap out of me.

“please be careful.. If we break something Snape will have are asses”

He scoffed “I'm not gonna break-”

Crash!

A bottle shattered into a million bits and black smoke steamed up from it. “bloody-”

“hell” Malfoy said, finishing my statement. We looked at each in silence then we both looked down at the label.

“truth smoke?” Malfoy coughed as the smoke filled the room. We coughed and ran to the door as it got hazy and hard to breathe.

I covered my mouth and coughed as Malfoy reached for the door. “It's bloody locked!” Malfoy said through his teeth as he aggressively jiggled the door knob.

“he locked us in!” I shouted kicking the door. “bloody psycho path!”

I slid down the door as I tried not to hack up a lung. Malfoy backed up and leaned against the desk across from me with his hand over his mouth and nose. The smoke slowly started to let up and we were finally able to breathe.

“I wonder how well the stuff works?” Malfoy said, kinda nervous. I raised an eyebrow at him. “what? Got a guilty conscience?”

He scoffed. “pff... No” he looked down and crossed his arms. His blond hair casted over his forehead and hid the expression in his eyes. I tilted my head to the side trying to read him. He sighed and pulled the chair that was pushed into the desk he was leaning on.

“Are you okay?” I asked as he sat down facing me with his hands folded together. “you only asking me that because I can't lie?” he asked, looking up slightly. I shook my head no.

“no” I whispered. “I really want to know” he finally looked at me and his Gray eyes stared into mine with guilt.

“I'm not alright,” he said simply. I shrugged and simply said. “me either”

I took a deep look and looked up at him with a concerned expression. “Can I ask you something?” he nodded. “might as well”

“why do you hate me so much?” I asked softly.

Draco sat up from his slouched position and looked like he was taken back by the question “I don't hate you... I never did” he said honestly. He sighed. Yeah the smoke works a little too well.

Draco hesitated for a moment. “Do you hate me?”

Before I could answer he started to ramble like he couldn't control it. “I know I'm not exactly the easiest person to be around and I'm a total ass to your friends and brothers bu-" he started rambling and I cut him off. The truth is smoke works better than he anticipated.

“Draco” he looked up surprised I called him that. In fact I think that's the first time I ever called him by his first name. I gave him a smile as I continued.

He smiled slightly. He looked almost relieved.

Draco chuckled to himself and looked away as he nervously rubbed his palms together. “I better get out of here before I say something I might regret”

I raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged. “probably nothing haven't already heard from you”

Draco barely smiled as his eyes dropped to the ground. “no…Nothing like that”

Draco took a deep breath then our eyes locked, I never realized how beautiful his eyes were. “Do you remember the very first time we met?”

I nodded, waiting to know where he was going with this. “before our 1st year… we ran into each other at the bookstore”

Draco nodded, physically telling me I was correct. “we knew nothing about our backgrounds… in that moment I wasn't a Malfoy and you weren't a Weasley… I May have only been 11 but I can tell you, you were the most beautifulest girl I had ever seen”

My eyes widened at his statement. I would have never expected his confession… But then again our track record was nothing but ugly. I didn't want to trust whatever ‘truth’ potion was cast on us.

“Draco…” I sighed looking at him with soft eyes.

“my father told me to stay away from you… I didn't want to, but I was so scared of him. Bloody hell I think I still am” Draco chuckled dryly. “I thought I could train myself to hate you by being rude and awful towards you… I also knew if I was nasty to your family you would want nothing to do with me”

I looked down as his words sunk in, I knew what I felt for him and that was love. You can't help who you fall in love with and I could tell you I hated myself for the first three years I went to Hogwarts, but there was just something about him and now he's confessing the secret that could not only change us, but our families too.

“Please say something,” he whispered.

Tears pricked my eyes as every single emotion hit me at once. “I Hate you… But I also love you. Sometimes I just want to punch you in your pretty face… I know you are not really a bad person, I have seen it since 1st year… I Choose to see the best in you”

Draco's eyes never left mine as he stood up from the chair then slid down the wall, sitting down next to me. “What does that mean for us?” I asked softly.

Draco turned towards me, placing his hand on my cheek gently. He leaned in slowly, giving me an out if I wanted it. I didn't plan on stopping him, I got impatient and met him in the middle. His lips were softer than I expected and he handed me as if i was made of glass. The kiss wasn't rough or rushed, just gentl and loving like we've been waiting for it for years.

He kissed me on the cheek and smiled softly “You saw the good in me when no one else did...so thank you” Draco whispered and rested his forehead against mine.

#Draco malfoy #Draco malfoy X reader #Draco malfoy imagines #Draco malfoy X Weasley!reader #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagines #Slytherin #Gryffindor #Weasley x reader #Tom Felton #tom felton imagines

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 • RORO RIQUELME

summary. your brother’s annoying teammate is hard to resist when he shows off his tattoos.

warnings. smut, oral (fem receiving), weed, alcohol, and griezmann!reader.

a/n. finally wrote for my starboy. based off trust by bad gyal!

ever since you moved to madrid over ten years ago the city had managed to take you by surprise every one of those years. this year was no exception due to the high heat every day. it was a wonder you hadn’t run back home to france already. and somehow your brother had managed to throw a successful pool party with all of his teammates showing up. unfortunately, he had decided to host it in your house claiming that you had a better pool when in reality he just didn’t wanna deal with the aftermath.

you close the book you’re trying to read but you can’t make it past the first page as the sun blazes on your skin. beads of sweat form on your body for the simply act of sitting outside. you just hope that in this misery you can’t at least get a good tan. although, that thought doesn’t last long as you’re soon drenched in your own margarita. the cold drink making your exposed skin shiver. you look up locking eyes with the culprit. roro approaches you slowly with an unbuttoned t-shirt, exposing his hidden tattoos.

“shit. don’t tell antoine.” he picks up the football not even offering an apology.

“is he that scary?” you tease him.

“no he isn’t but your tantrums are.” he smirks at his words.

you look up at him making sure to cover your eyes from the sun in the process. his sudden change in demeanor interests you and you find yourself drawn to him. he’s always tried his best to get under your skin despite knowing who your brother was. he didn’t care and you admired that. carefully you place your hand on his chest slowly dragging it down until it’s placed on his rib cage tattoo.

“i’d be careful if i were you, roro. don’t forget who my brother is. better put that mouth to better use.” you offer him a smile.

“doesn’t it suck?” he places his hand on top you’re stopping it from wandering off even lower. “being second to your brother always? you can’t even threaten me without bringing him up because in reality no one cares about you. some people don’t even know you exist.”

this time you’re the one left speechless and not because of his words, in truth you didn’t care what anyone said about you, but because he’d finally been able to use cruel words to defend himself. he’s always held back never once trying to get into your bad graces. maybe it was the humid weather that made him not care anymore.

the party continued with countless plastic cups being thrown around the yard and countless splashes could be heard one after the other. yet you found yourself analyzing the brunette in the pool. fully shirtless now allowing you a view of his back tattoos. you would’ve never guessed he’d be one to ink himself by the innocent smile he wore everyday.

unbeknownst to you, your actions didn’t go unnoticed. paddy, marco’s wife, had noticed how your eyes kept wandering off to the brunette. she had tried inviting you on a brand trip for the fifth time and you’d changed the subject for a fifth time.

“i mean look at him! everyone thinks he’s this innocent little guy but he isn’t. what an asshole!” you ranted to her as she drank from her mojito.

“fuck him.” she muttered tired of him being the topic of conversation.

“exactly. if only everyone else could see what a horri-”

“no. fuck him.” she rolled her eyes.

“what?” you turned towards her trying to find out the meaning behind her words.

“it’s clear you want to sleep with him and he probably wants to as well. so do it. get it over with! i can’t hear you complain about him one more time.” she sighs.

“you can’t possibly be serious paddy?” you scoff.

“i’m never been so serious about something in my life. i’ve had hate sex with marcos all the time and it’s arguably the best sex i’ve had in my life.” she continues drinking her mojito as if what she had just said was the most normal thing ever.

“do it or some other girl at this party will.” is the last thing she says to you before she wanders off looking for her husband.

the sun is soon replaced by the moon as the hours go on and it seems your brother’s party has only grown in size. you hope your brother is sober enough tomorrow to clean after his mess because you sure wouldn’t be doing anything. your brother is lucky he lives retired from the city so you don’t get any noise complaints as the music blasts through the backyard. it’s the perfect atmosphere for a get together and a perfect atmosphere for paddy’s suggestion.

you carry your drink inside careful to avoid any spillage. you analyze everyone hoping to find the brunette and when you do you head directly towards him with no hesitation. you’re so close to him when you trip, accidentally of course, and your drink lands all over his white button down shirt. you stand up quickly looking quite concerned and confused.

“fuck i didn’t mean to sorry.” you murmur the last bit feigning innocence because you absolutely meant to spill your drink all over him. “you can borrow one of antoine’s shirts.”

“it’s fine.” he mumbles clearly annoyed at what just occurred.

“no, i’ve been mean. it’s the least i could do.” you offer a truce.

he analyzes your face for any hint of malice but doesn’t find any. a part of him wants to take your offer of help but the other part is still hesitant. ultimately he decides he doesn’t want to walk around with a wet and sticky shirt for the rest of the night. he sighs before agreeing. you quickly grab his hand before he can say anything and drag him towards the spare room.

“this one or this one?” you hold up two button downs. one is a bright shade of baby blue and the other a plain white one similar to the one you had ruined.

he chooses the baby blue button down not waiting another minute to change into it. he rushes causing two packets and a heavier material to fall out of his pockets. quickly he tries to retrieve them before you see them but you’re faster. you let out a loud exaggerated gasp at the sight of the pills and vape.

“you? no way.” you almost laugh at how surprising he was. first the tattoos, then the attitude, and now this. he was truly unpredictable. “don’t you have to take doping tests?”

“who do you think gets me cleared before matches?” he asks as he grabs the pills and the vape from your hand. although, you manage to take the vape back noticing what it contained. you inhale.

“my brother.” you exhale causing the smoke to invade his face. “does he give you the weed too?”

“just give it back.” he holds his hand out waiting for you to comply.

you obviously don’t choosing to sit on the bed instead taking another puff. your movements cause your black sarong to move up your legs giving him quite the sight. it was a shame that you were so attractive because you were equally as annoying. and if you weren’t your brother’s sister rodrigo would’ve tried to at least attempt a move on you. but because you were so determined tonight you’d make sure he would.

he walks towards you hoping to take his personal belongings back. after all he’s stronger more agile he should be able to snatch them away from you. but he forgets that you’re faster and every time he tries to reach for them he only ends up dangerously close to your body. you notice he never managed to button up his shirt and his rib cage tattoo is once again exposed to you. you place your hand on it knowing it’s your one chance to get what you want.

“what does it mean?” you look up at his brown eyes finding them already staring right at you.

“what are you doing?” he sighs frustrated at your weird antics.

“nothing.” you answer simply.

there’s a short pause between the two of you with silence filling the air. the two of you are practically chest to chest and you’re so close to getting what you want. what you need. you act first kissing him. after all you could blame it on the drugs in case this ends up being a huge mess. you expect him to pull away but he does the complete opposite grabbing your jaw as he deepens the kiss. they say it’s always the silent ones and he confirms those rumors.

your hands find themselves in his curls tugging on the strands as he leaves wet kisses along your jaw. meanwhile his hand finds it’s way around your throat pulling you closer to him as the two of you roughly kiss. it’s the opposite of gentle, what you enjoy. you gain the confidence to drag your hand down his bare chest all the way to the hem of his shorts when he stops you by grabbing your hand.

“what are you playing at?” he steps away from you. once again analyzing you and your facial expressions trying to figure out why you wanted to sleep with him.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about roro.” you say his nickname so sweetly and somehow also seductively.

“bullshit. one minute you’re threatening me and the next you’re all over me. you couldn’t get anyone else to sleep with you?” he asks in a more serious tone. you enjoy the view of a shirtless heated roro.

“i didn’t want to sleep with anyone else. but if you don’t want to then i’ll guess i’ll have to find someone else.” you begin to stand up.

you’re immediately pushed back down by the midfielder shocked at the force. it somehow turns you on even more.

“then say it.” he demands.

“say what?” you look up at him.

“that you want to fuck me. say it.” he demands once again.

“roro…” you brings your hands up his torso and wrap them around his neck locking eyes with him as you bring him closer to you once again. “i want you to fuck me.”

that’s all it takes to push him off the edge and his lips are once again on yours. the kisses are rough and quick and you find yourself tugging on his bottom lip to provoke him even more. it’s all so sensual like a scene on television. his hands roam your body ultimately landing on your ass as the two of you gravitate towards each other. you can feel his hard on against the fabric of your swimsuit. you’re pretty sure he can feel your growing arousal as he begins to grind himself against your clothed core.

you don’t wait another second in taking off his shirt allowing a perfect view of his forming biceps and his tattoos. it’s almost unfair how long he’s been hiding himself. you’re keen on making sure this happens again. so you proceed to flip the two of you over ending up in his lap. the new angle allowing you to see his face perfectly. you hate how pretty he looks and how he’s basically forbidden fruit. the aching in your core continues to grow and you realize you have to do something about it.

“fuck, roro. touch me.” you practically beg.

you’re answered with a smirk at first but he obliges bringing his hand to your lower body. he’s moving his hand as slowly as possible, teasing you, and you’ve had enough. you placed your hand on top of his dragging it to where you need it the most. he moves your sarong to have better access to your core, taking off the bottom part of your swimsuit in the process. you continue to guide his fingers to your folds.

“fucking hell.” he groans as he feels your wetness.

he starts slowly rubbing circles along your folds which instantly brings you pleasure. his movements cause you to let out loud moans which he quickly tries to silence by kissing you. the last thing he needed was anyone walking in on the two of you. as he kisses you he continues to spread your wetness. he decides that’s enough foreplay and drags one of his fingers towards your hole.

“can i?” he asks you wanting to make sure you’re still okay with what’s going on.

“please.” you murmur.

he enters you slowly making sure you adjust to the intrusion. you cling onto his arms at the new sensation, holding back a moan as he stretches you out. it’s almost embarrassing how much he’s been able to surprise you in the span of a couple of hours. he wraps his arm around your waist to help you adjust and keep you grounded. you reach up for him again kissing him as he begins to pump his finger inside of you. it’s such an intimate moment and he’s been able to comfort you more than any other guy you’ve slept with before.

“fuck, more.” you practically beg.

he obliges inserting another finger instantly groaning at how you clench around him. you squeeze his fingers so tight he swears he could cum in his boxers. the way you look under him doesn’t help him either. he’d always admired you except for your attitude but now that he had you he couldn’t give you up. your moans also encourage him to go faster wanting to pleasure you in the best way possible. he can only think about you right now and the way his fingers feel inside of you.

“so close roro.” you murmur. your nails digging deeper into his biceps.

then out of nowhere the building up orgasm inside you disappears as his fingers leave you. you’re about to yell at him when you see him kneel.

“do you trust me?” he asks suddenly.

“yes.”

his fingers are soon replaced by his tongue. the sight of his curls in between your legs alone make’s your pleasure build up again. as he laps up your juices your fingers find their way into his hair pulling him even closer to your core. it doesn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to unfold and soon you’re orgasming on his tongue.

“what the fuck roro.” you say shocked.

instead of responding he simply kisses you again. it’s quite an intimate moment as he moves the strands of hair from your face. the two of you separate from each other and there’s a comfortable silence between you too. the act is so domestic as the two of you simply stare at each other. unfortunately, it’s interrupted as someone knocks loudly on the door.

“who’s in there? i need a shirt.” antoine slurs.

“shit. shit. shit.” rodrigo steps away from you adjusting his clothes and finally getting his vape.

“hide in the bathroom.” you urge him as you adjust your sarong before heading towards the door.

he doesn’t know why he does it but he pulls you closer by your waist before kissing you one last time before heading for the bathroom. you’re taken aback but can’t help but grin a little at the action. it’s going to take more than your willpower to stop yourself whenever you go to anymore games in the future.

#so… 🧍🏽‍♀️ #roro 😊😊😊 #rodrigo riquelme smut #rodrigo riquelme x reader #football smut #football imagine #football fic #gabri writes

[roosterforme]

Old Habits Die Hard Part 7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: As much as you want a sleepover, it's probably not a good idea. And you notice that Bradley is in need of some defending.

Warnings: Angst, swears, smut, fluff

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

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Now you could completely understand the appeal of sleeping with Bradley. His dick was huge and satisfying. His body was strong and attractive. His kisses and voice were completely addicting. Simply put, he was good in bed. 

Yeah, it all made sense now. All the girls. Wanting to write their names on his door. Yeah, you got it. 

But the way he was still kissing you and murmuring against your skin after making you come was something else entirely. You could feel yourself blushing and wanted to hide your face when he said, "My Sugar."

You almost moaned again when he rolled over and you sat up in his bed. You could tell your hair was a mess, and your head was still spinning a bit. Bradley looked up at you, raking his eyes over your body before he climbed out of bed to remove the condom. 

"Where's your bathroom?" you asked, your voice soft and hoarse. 

Bradley leaned down to kiss you before saying, "I'll show you." You watched as he pulled his boxer shorts on, but when you stood to gather all of your discarded clothing, he gently took you by the hand and held out his robe for you. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to tie the sash tight, making sure you were well covered. "It's across the hall."

Then he led you right out of his room, clearly not caring who saw you together. Of course he was probably this way with all of his conquests. There were some guys hanging out at the end of the hallway, but they barely glanced your way as Bradley flipped on the bathroom light for you. You could hear the party still going on downstairs, the loud music and everyone talking over it. 

"Thanks," you muttered, ducking inside and closing the door. Your legs felt rubbery as you examined your face in the mirror. Your lips were parted and a little swollen. Your eyes were wide and alert. Your hair was a mess. Your neck was marked up again from Bradley. You looked a little fucked out, and it looked good on you.

You used the toilet and then splashed some water on your face. You liked him so much. And now you needed to leave, because you could already feel yourself getting attached and wanting to cuddle. And he wasn't the right one to have these kinds of feelings for. You'd go, because he probably wanted you to leave anyway. 

Wearing his robe was not helping; it was soft and it smelled like him. And when you opened the door, he was waiting for you, smiling. 

"Just didn't want any of the guys giving you a hard time," he told you as he nodded to his bedroom door. "I'll be right in." 

He watched you walk into his room before closing himself in the bathroom. You ran your fingers across your phone number written on his door before closing it and pressing your lips together. You buried your nose in the collar of his robe and took a few deep breaths as you kept thinking about how sweet Bradley actually was. You were pretty sure he stopped hooking up with Phoebe or anyone else by this point, and you frowned. He was going to make this hard for you. Unless maybe you could do this with him again. 

Just as you were kicking your shoes toward your discarded clothing, Bradley walked in and closed the door behind him. He walked over to you and gathered you up in his arms, immediately pressing his lips to your neck. 

You whimpered softly. "I'll get dressed in a minute," you told him, closing your eyes and memorizing how good this felt. "Any chance you can walk me home?"

You felt his body freeze, and then he was slowly removing his arms from around your waist. You couldn't have imagined a sadder look on his face if you had tried. 

"You don't want to stay?" he asked softly, running one hand along the back of his neck. You watched his bicep twitch as he licked his lips nervously. 

A hopeful feeling filled your heart as you asked, "Do you want me to stay?"

---------------------------------

Bradley felt sick. You wanted him to walk you home. This was it. This was as far as he was ever going to get, and this is exactly why he shouldn't have gone to your apartment today. This is precisely the reason why he should have protected himself and tried to find someone else to try to be a better person with. For a minute at the beginning, he really thought he was the one who was going to destroy you, but somehow in the last few weeks, he'd given you the power to hurt him.  

"Do you want me to stay?" you asked, your voice so small he could barely hear you. But your face was a blank canvas, and he couldn't read it. You'd been moaning his name and melting into him in bed thirty minutes ago. Of course he fucking wanted you to stay. This was the best he had ever felt after having sex in his entire life. He was sober. You were awesome. You told him you liked him.

He swallowed hard. "Yeah, Sugar. I want you to stay."

"Oh," you whispered. "Okay." Bradley saw the tension melt out of you that he hadn't even been aware was there. 

"Will you?" he asked, wanting to make sure you and he were on the same page before he suggested anything else. 

"Yeah, Beer Boy. I'll stay." 

You made him smile, and your gaze dipped down to his lips, so he kissed you. And you didn't back away. You returned his kisses immediately, smiling against his lips and resting your cold hands on his bare chest before sliding them to his shoulders and pulling him closer. 

You pressed your front against his, and he wrapped his hands around your waist, running them along his robe. You sighed softly as he let his lips ghost over yours as he whispered, "Sugar. Did I... Did I do something to make you feel like I didn't want you here anymore?"

You shook your head slowly, the tip of your nose brushing against his. "No. I just wasn't sure... I didn't know if you let girls sleep over or not. And I'm still reeling a little bit. That was the first time I ever came like that."

Bradley's heart was pounding. "Like what?" he asked, his voice raspy as you buried your face in his neck.

"With a guy. Unless you want to include our time in the library. Either way... it was with you."

Bradley groaned and held you tighter. He was never going to let you go. He was never going to ask you to leave. 

"Sugar, you can't tell me that and expect me not to get immediately hard again," he whispered in your ear. Now your face was buried against his neck and you were moaning and kissing him here. "And you're not other girls. I told you they don't matter."

"Bradley," you whispered as he guided you toward his bed.

"I told you I like you." He pulled back the bedding and climbed in, reaching out to you. He watched as you climbed up on your knees with a smirk on your face. "Come here."

Bradley pulled you down halfway on top of him and your laughter filled the room. Such a gorgeous sound. You looked so cute in his bathrobe, too. You smiled at him, your legs tangling with his as you got comfortable on his chest. 

"Bradley, I don't have any of my stuff for a sleepover," you told him, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair and along his scars. 

"What do you need?" he asked, pushing your hair away from your neck and teasing your soft skin there. 

He watched your eyes flutter closed as you said, "Clothes, a toothbrush, face wash. All of my makeup so I don't look like a trainwreck in the morning."

Bradley chuckled. "You can wear my clothes. I think I have an extra toothbrush, and I have face wash in the bathroom. You're very pretty. You'll still be beautiful in the morning. So I don't think you need to worry about that." 

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Beer Boy."

But Bradley's lips were on yours again. "Just let me be sweet to you, Sugar." You kissed him so well, like you weren't in any hurry. Your tongue teased his gently, and he still had no desire to rush to the finish with you. When he was with Phoebe or one of the others, he just fucked them so he could get himself off. But now that he knew he was the first guy to get you off, he wanted to do it a million more times. You went right to his head and made him feel things.

Your hands were tugging gently through his hair as you inched up along his body, and you let him reach under his bathrobe and caress your ass and lower back.

"Mmm," you hummed against his lips before you straddled his waist and moved your soft lips to his neck. Bradley could feel your pussy rubbing against his abs as you sucked and licked around his scars. 

He gripped your thighs before running his hand between your bodies and through your wetness. You cried out and released his neck. "You going for a repeat of the library, baby?" He watched you blush as you looked down at him. "Don't be embarrassed. You're so fucking hot. You can do whatever you want to me."

You gasped. "You can't just tell me that, Beer Boy," you whispered before wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and devouring his mouth. Bradley was hiking the robe higher, digging his fingers into your waist a little harder now. "Take it off," you murmured between rough kisses, and Bradley quickly found the sash and untied it. 

You sat up straight on him, and the sight was almost too much. All your soft skin was on display, and when your tattoo came into view as you shucked off the sleeves and tossed the robe to the floor, he was reaching for you. Your tits bounced beautifully as the robe left your hands, and Bradley fit them nicely in his palms. He traced his pinky over your tattoo and your eyes met his. 

You leaned down again and stroked his cheek with your fingertips before returning your lips to his in a kiss that had you grinding against him again. Bradley's cock was so hard, and it was getting no attention from you, which was making him crazier for you. Because he knew as soon as you touched him there, he would be seeing stars. And when your ass bumped back and nudged him a moment later, he tightened his grip on your hair and fucked your mouth with his tongue. 

You were letting him be rough while you whimpered, and he didn't think he could fuck you slowly this time. He wanted you hard. He stroked his hands along your thighs, squeezing you each time you made a little sound for him.

"Where are the condoms?" you asked, in a broken little voice that had his blood flowing even hotter. 

"On the desk," Bradley replied, voice hoarse and rough already. You slid off of him, and he watched you walk away, the sight of your ass sending his hand down to stroke himself. He needed to last for you. He needed to make you feel so good that you praised him again. He wanted to hear you tell him you liked him one more time. 

----------------------------------------

You didn't hesitate this time. You wanted to fuck him again. You wanted to sleep over. You wanted as much as you could get. Maybe that made you as needy as the other girls, writing their names on his door and trying to leave their mark on him, but you'd never treat him that way. 

But Jesus, if he called you Sugar one more time, you were likely to melt into a little liquidy pile of sweet goo.

You ripped off another condom and took it back to the bed. Bradley was sitting up and stroking himself, and you gasped before throwing yourself on top of him. He chuckled and opened the wrapper as you wound your arms around his shoulders and pressed your mouth to his. You smiled against his lips as he grunted and tossed the condom wrapper on the floor before rolling it down his length. 

"Ready when you are, Sugar," he whispered, and you were immediately guiding yourself to his tip and taking him slowly inside. You felt powerful as his head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut with the veins in his neck straining. He was sitting up, supporting himself with both arms until you came to rest with him fully inside you, panting at the feeling of being so full and sitting on him. Then he wrapped one arm around your back and held you close as you started to move.

You rolled your hips slowly at first, his lips grazing over your cheek and moving back to your ear. You could hear the deep noises he made every time you had him buried deep. Every move you made had your breasts brushing his chest, and you could feel his tidy hairs against your clit, his body giving you delicious pressure there. 

Bradley held you to him, guiding his lips to yours as his nose grazed your cheek. Then he was kissing you softly, before growing a little rougher as your hips picked up pace. He was nipping and nudging you, pulling your lip into his mouth and teasing as you could feel yourself starting to clench. This was unlike anything else, being filled to the brim with him and feeling the prickly sensation against your clit. This was the third time he had been better than your own fingers, and the thought of having to get yourself off was almost laughable now. 

"Perfection," he mumbled before pressing his lips to your chin, and his voice made you moan. 

The rhythm felt so good as you rode him, each stroke getting you closer than the last. You jerked yourself up and down faster as you suddenly came, grinding harder and harder and pulling his hair. "Oh!" you moaned loudly. 

It was so good, and you were melting against him as he lay back against the pillows, pulling you with him. You kissed him with little coordination as he took you by the hips and thrust up into you until he was grunting and groaning. "Sugar," he hissed against your mouth, and you licked his tongue as he fucked you with one more hard thrust before his movements slowed. 

You were going to need him again. 

------------------------------

The party was finally starting to quiet down as Bradley held you against him, snuggled in bed underneath all of his blankets. He ran his fingers through your hair and down your bare back. 

You had asked him more about the Navy, and he was telling you all about the training he was hoping to partake in. "I'd get to be all over the place. First up to Newport, Rhode Island for a bit, then the Naval Aviation School in Pensacola, Florida. Maybe even Top Gun in San Diego someday. I've barely been out of Virginia before, so all that sounds much better to me. What are you doing next year, Sugar?" He had never once talked to a girl after hooking up. He couldn't even remember having sex two times in a row like that before. He wasn't sure he even knew what Phoebe's major was. 

But now he knew that you were looking at different options for grad schools. You were already starting to study for entrance exams. You wanted to be a college math professor. 

"You'll be teaching advanced calculus, sporting your hot mathlete tattoo that nobody can see. Jesus, just the idea of it is too much," he mumbled into your hair as you giggled. "Hottest tattoo I have ever seen, you have no idea." He stroked your skin hidden underneath his blanket in the exact spot where your tattoo was located. He'd never forget the way it looked for the rest of his fucking life. 

You laughed while looking at him in the lamplight. "I had no idea you would like it so much."

"It's my favorite," he promised with a grin, tickling your side just below the tattoo. You laughed and wrapped yourself around him, grabbing both of his hands to get him to stop. And when you tried to retaliate, you immediately pouted, because he wasn't ticklish at all. 

"Not fair," you said, and he kissed your lips.  

"Totally fair. You have too much control already," he mumbled and started to climb out of bed. 

You sat up and looked at him with questioning eyes. It was chilly in his room, and you wrapped yourself in his blankets. But Bradley could see your breast with your peaked nipple peeking out and he licked his lips. 

"Where are you going?" you asked softly. "I'm cold without you."

Bradley sighed deeply and kissed your cheek. He dug in his dresser and pulled out one of his favorite tee shirts and some soft sweatpants for you to put on. "I'm starving. I'll go raid the kitchen and get us a snack. Then I'll turn the heat up now that the party is probably pretty much over."

"Okay," you said as you pulled his shirt on. 

As he put on his boxers and shrugged into his bathrobe, he took one last look at you before heading to the kitchen. You even looked hot in his bright, tie dyed Grateful Dead shirt. 

He grabbed a bag of pretzels and two water bottles before he ran into Tyson.

"Two water bottles? Tell me it's not Phoebe," Tyson said as he started pouring himself a bowl of cereal. 

"It's not Phoebe," Bradley replied with a smile. 

Tyson chuckled. "It's Janessa's roommate, huh?"

"Of course it is," Bradley said as he went back into the hallway and nudged the thermostat a little higher. He was also just in time to see Jeff going upstairs with a girl who looked wasted and wasn't wearing a shirt. 

Maybe that meant Jeff was done pursuing you. But Bradley still didn't like that; he never hooked up with girls who were too gone. He paused and waited a minute before heading back to his bedroom. 

You were waiting for him in his bed, wearing his oversized clothes. "It should warm up in here soon," he told you, but you just shrugged.

"I wasn't cold when you were in bed, too."

So he fed you pretzels until you started yawning, and then you both got ready for bed. You used his face wash, and he found his extra toothbrush for you. He was right, you looked virtually the same and just as pretty with no makeup on, and he made sure to tell you that.

And when Bradley closed and locked his door, guiding you to bed with his arms around you, he realized this had been one of the best nights of his life. He fell asleep curled up with you, your even breathing and sweet smelling skin guiding him to sleep. 

-------------------------------------

You started to wake up as sunlight filtered across your face. But you were so warm and comfortable, you couldn't be bothered with getting up yet, so you rolled to your other side and snuggled against the source of warmth. It smelled good, too, so you let yourself be wrapped up in it. 

You cracked both eyes open when you remembered where you were and who you were with. "Good morning," Bradley rasped, and you couldn't stop the smile from blooming across your lips. 

"Good morning, Beer Boy," you whispered, and he wrapped his arms tighter around you. 

"Did you sleep okay, Sugar?" He was about to have some melted sugar on his hands again. His voice was extra deep and raspy from sleeping, and now he was running his fingers up inside the tee shirt and along your back. 

"Yes. You're very snuggly, and I was very tired. What time is it?"

"Almost nine. You need me to walk you home?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, the tip of your nose brushing the long scar on his neck. "Not unless you want me to go. I don't have anything planned."

His only response was the press of his lips on yours. Then he guided you down to the kitchen and you both sat on the counter and ate bowls of cereal and drank some coffee side by side. A few of his fraternity brothers came and went, and you were introduced to them. But Bradley seemed happy to have you there with him. 

Then you went back to his room and both of you got undressed immediately. You pushed him down onto his desk chair, and he tossed the condom wrapper across the room with a smirk that made you laugh. 

"Let's just decorate your room with those," you told him before pressing your lips to his and sliding him inside you.

"I'd love to do that with you, Sugar," he promised as you rode him.

--------------------------------

It was almost noon, and you were still here. Bradley could come up with a list of reasons to try to keep you with him if need be. But now you were snuggled up in front of him in bed, and you were both pretending to watch a movie on his laptop. Occasionally he would press a kiss to your neck, and he caught you dozing off a few times. 

A sharp knock on the door had you jumping against him, but he just chuckled and said, "It's probably just Tyson. He already knows you're here anyway if you want to get it."

You climbed out of bed and stretched before heading for the door as he reached to press pause on his computer. 

But when you opened the door, Bradley heard you suck in a breath before he heard Phoebe's voice.

"Really?" Phoebe asked, glaring at you, and Bradley was immediately out of bed and across the room, thankful he was wearing underwear. Phoebe was eyeing you from head to toe, eyes narrowing as she took in Bradley's clothing on you. He never let her borrow his stuff. He never let her hang out until noon either. 

"Phoebe," he muttered, coming to stand right behind you. Briefly, you glanced up over your shoulder at him, but you didn't move. I almost felt like you were there to protect him in some way.

"Is this Sugar?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I expected you to be alone by now, no matter who you'd been with last night." Bradley almost flinched, because she sounded so mad. "Why are you still here?" she asked you, but you didn't back away at all.

"I was invited. Unlike you," you told her, and Bradley watched Phoebe's jaw clench. 

Bradley ran his hand along your back, trying to let you know you didn't need to egg her on, but Phoebe was already on a roll now. She wouldn't stop until she had hurt someone's feelings. 

"You look like you're a little bit out of your league here," she told you in a patronizing tone. "Whenever I want him, he comes back to me."

"No, I don't," Bradley said firmly.

Phoebe just smiled at him and said, "You will. But in the meantime," she said, shifting her attention back to you, "enjoy my sloppy seconds, and every other girl's sloppy thirds."

Bradley could feel the blood drain from his face, but you were so quick with a response, it surprised him. "There's a reason I'm the one inside his room, wearing his clothes, and getting his attention. It's because he just raised his standards," you stated calmly. 

Bradley watched Phoebe's jaw drop open. "I expected you to at least be cute," she said before storming off. 

"Bitch," you murmured under your breath as Bradley pushed the door closed and pulled you into his arms.

"Sorry about that. If I knew it was her, we would have just ignored it," he whispered. You looked up at him and kissed his neck. "Are you okay, Beer Boy? She was so mean to you."

Bradley hugged you and laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you just... defend my honor?"

You nodded your head against him. "Yes, and I'll do it again if I have to."

Bradley just let himself feel good for a minute, and then he suggested the two of you get a shower together before he took you out for lunch. 

-----------------------------

Oh, sweet, misguided Beer Boy and his feelings. Thanks @mak-32 for everything with this fic! This story is for you, Mak.

PART 8

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[musings-of-a-rose]

A New Life

Pairing: Clint “Freaky Tales” x f!readers (there’s 2, both have nicknames)

Word Count: 11,000+ (it's a long one, folks!)

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: a huge shoutout to @nerdieforpedro for beta reading this and giving me the confidence to actually hit post. And to Mr. Rose for helping me out of a corner.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Clint Masterlist

CLINT

“No! No, please! Tell The Guy I'll step back from his territory!”

Clint stares down at the man who's now covered in his own blood, coughing and spitting up the red liquid onto the floor, splashing a little onto Clint's shoes. He looks at the man and grabs his hair, yanking his head back and staring him in the eyes, seeing fear at the rapidly approaching end of his life. 

“Then you should've stopped when we warned you.”

Clint slides his knife into the man's abdomen, watching as the man coughs and sputters, small gasps all he can manage as the life leeches from his body. When he slumps, Clint knows it's over. He sits back, shaking his head and sighing, looking around at the mess all over the tarp he'd placed on the floor. I'm getting tired of this.

He cleans up and disposes of the body properly, his stomach rumbling by the end of his work. A quick glance at his watch tells him it's nearly 3am. He hopes there's still someplace open where he can at least get a cup of hot coffee. 

He drives in the general direction of his apartment for nearly 15 minutes before he sees the neon OPEN sign on the side of a little corner diner. He parks around the back, adjusting his pants and smoothing down his shirt before heading inside, a little bell ringing as the door swings open. It's quiet, only one other person sitting at a booth in the back corner, a man who doesn't look when the bell dings, too absorbed in his own issues. 

“Hey, hun! Have a seat wherever and I'll be right over!” The waitress calls from somewhere behind the counter. Clint looks around and finally settles on sitting at the counter, spinning to face the counter on the bar stool. 

The waitress suddenly appears, smoothing out her skirt before turning to face him and when she does, Clint momentarily forgets how to breathe. She is the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen and her smile makes him feel warm and safe, things he hasn't felt since he was a child. And even then, that's debatable. 

Her smile is bright and wide. “Sorry to make you wait! That damn sink pipe’s entire purpose is to annoy me, I swear. Want some coffee, hun?” She's already got the pot in her hand, regular, not decaf. He nods and she pours him a mug with a smile, sliding a small bowl with some creamer and sugar packets towards him. 

“You look hungry. You a steak man?”

Clint pours one of the sugar packets into his black coffee. “I like steak.”

“Great! The steak here is-” She leans closer to him “-edible. But it's best in town at 3am!”

Clint chuckles, the sound almost unfamiliar to him. “Sounds perfect.”

She writes down his order and turns, placing the ticket in a clip and rotating it, dinging another bell so the cook knows he has an order. 

“James? You back there? You have an order!”

There's some sort of affirmative grunted towards her that she accepts with a shake of her head, turning back to face Clint. 

“James is a nice guy. Lost his hearing in one ear in the war. Sometimes you have to be a little louder for him. At his request of course.” 

Clint nods and takes a sip of his coffee, expecting it to taste bitter and cheap, exactly like what you'd expect coffee at a diner open at 3am to taste like. But to his surprise, it doesn't. A pleasant mix of coffee beans washes over his tongue and he can't help a little moan escape him. 

A different smile, this one more sly. “You enjoying your coffee?”

Clint feels the tips of his ears heat up. “Uh, yeah.”

“I'm glad you like it, Mr….” Her eyebrows raised and Clint chokes down his sip. 

“Clint. No need for a Mr., ma'am.”

She waves her hand with another smile. “No ma'am here. I'm not that old!” She chuckles and tells him her name. “But everyone calls me Poppy.”

Poppy. He likes that name. It makes him feel happier somehow, like she's somehow taking care of him, not just because she's a waitress. 

She continues chatting with him while she bustles around, cleaning things and restocking sugar trays, and cleaning menus, Clint chiming in now and again. The man in the back corner eventually leaves and they're alone in the diner together. Aside from James in the back, who had just set his plate down on the back counter. 

“Thanks, James!”

“I'm going out for a smoke, Poppy.” 

She gives him a thumbs up and James takes off his apron, walking out of the side door. Poppy turns and makes a little fanfare of bringing him his diner steak and potatoes, setting it down in front of him and then casually placing the A1 steak sauce next to him. 

“You might need this.” She winks at him and he melts, what can only be described as butterflies in his stomach. 

Get it together, Clint. You don't do this. You don't like people like this. Fall for people. 

But then he's done with his steak, telling her some funny stories from his childhood. She's sitting across the bar from him, leaning on her elbows as she listens, laughing at all the right places. He's trying desperately hard to not be obvious in staring at her boobs, which had been pushed together tighter the more she leans forward. 

“If you don't mind me asking, Poppy. Why are you working this shitty shift?”

She cocks her head to the side slightly, her eyes on his. “Someone has to be here to serve you.”

He nods. “Yes but why you?” 

She waits a moment. “Maybe I'm just waiting for the right man to come on by.”

Shit. He had told himself she wasn't flirting, that she was just being nice to him for a tip. That he could just flirt a little and then be on his way. Normally, he'd take her out back and fuck her in his truck, promises to call again that he knows he'd never fulfill. But none of those women were her. None of them made him feel this way, her laugh and big eyes smiling at him while he sits here with blood on his hands and his past full of monsters.

So instead, he surprises himself. 

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?”

She glances at the clock on the wall. “If you're not too tired, I'm off in an hour and you can take me for breakfast.”

He smiles an actual genuine smile. “Breakfast it is.”

The conversation flows between them at breakfast, both of them laughing and joking throughout it all. And at the end, he walks her to her car, asking her on another date before they reach it, her enthusiastic “yes” giving him the confidence to kiss her, his hands cupping her face as their lips melt together. He presses her back against the side of her car, his body aching to be with her, inside of her. But not like this. She's different. She's special. He wants to take his time with Poppy. So he pulls back, a promise to pick her up in 2 nights for dinner. 

Clint takes her out on several more dates, falling harder for her each time he sees her, hears her laugh, sees how attentive she is towards him. He doesn't think he deserves her, knows he doesn't, but maybe she's his way out of his world of darkness and bad deeds. The world he's kept hidden from her, whether because he's afraid she'd leave him or he's too afraid to bring his darkness into her light he's not sure. 

But Clint knows he can't leave her. He's gone too far. 

2 weeks in, and his resolve to treat her like a lady, an actual relationship, which is what they'd finally called it, snaps when she opens her door in a black dress that accentuates everything about her that he loves. 

“I know we were supposed to go out tonight Clint, but I thought maybe I could cook for you instead?” She looks nervously up at him and he knows right there, he'd do anything she asked him to.

“If it's not too much trouble.”

She shakes her her, chuckling lightly. “Not at all. Come on in.” 

Clint follows her inside, hearing her lock the door behind him. He kicks his boots off and places them by the door. 

“I thought we could have steak. A real one. Dear James does his best with what he has but…” her voice trails off and Clint chuckles. 

“Steak sounds delicious.”

“Great! Would you like a quick drink before I start cooking? Or are you too hungry?”

“A drink sounds great, thanks.”

He takes a beer from her and she leads him to the couch. They both sit, taking sips from their drinks before setting them on the coffee table. He's nervous, his palms a little sweaty. Why is he so nervous? Clint looks at Poppy and he can see the way she's shifting around slightly, obviously nervous herself, which somehow gives him the confidence he needs. Confidence that he's never had a problem with before. 

When he touches his lips to hers, he knows he belongs to her forever. 

POPPY

I knew what I was doing, inviting Clint in for dinner instead of going to a restaurant as we had planned. But I wanted to take care of him, try and help quell that sadness and regret hidden just behind his eyes, the darkness he swallows and blinks away when our eyes meet, for the sake of me. 

We settle on the couch, each taking a sip of our respective drinks before setting them on the coffee table. I see him wipe his palms across his jeans, a sweet, nervous gesture and I smile shyly, turning my head to the side to tuck some hair behind my ear. I look back up at him and find him looking at me already, his deep brown eyes seeing into me and I feel myself stepping off the cliff, diving headfirst into love. Could it be love this early? I’d felt it before once, in my youth. But I had been burned and so kept my heart behind a lock but somehow, Clint already had the key. 

He keeps his eyes on mine when he slides closer to me, hesitating briefly before placing his hand on my bare thigh, my skin tingling where he touches me. I angle my body towards him a little more, feeling his large hand cup my cheek, a soft smile on his lips before he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. We’ve kissed plenty, made out in the back of his truck for hours and hours, but this is different. The energy has shifted, our paths fully converging to become one. 

He slides his hand on my thigh up higher and I spread my legs for him, opening more than just my body to him. His fingertips brush against my panties and I inhale sharply against his lips, his hand stalling. 

“Is..is this ok?” He asks, a nervous tremble in his voice.

“Please,” I whisper, begging him to touch me again. “Please touch me.”

He kisses me again, pushing his tongue into my eager mouth and I feel him between my legs again, gently stroking up and down, up and down, feeling how wet my underwear has become. He pushes aside my panties, slowly swirling one thick finger around me before pushing in, my whine breaking our kiss before he grunts out, mumbling something about how tight I feel. 

He deepens the kiss, his finger gently stroking inside of me, brushing against me and I moan into his mouth, my legs twitching. When he stops, pulling away from me, I think I’ve done something wrong. But then he slides from the couch, getting on his knees, kissing my thighs as he hooks his fingers in my underwear, sliding them off and tossing them over his shoulder. He pushes my legs open wide, putting them over his shoulders as he stares between my legs, eyes dark and admiring. 

He looks up at me and I nod, knowing what he wants even though I’m not really experienced with it. He places soft kisses on my inner thighs, slowly moving to where his hand had been moments before. When his tongue touches me, I gasp, a breathy “oh” escaping me while my thighs try to slam against his head of their own volition. He chuckles against me and I moan at the vibration, feeling him wrap his hands around my legs to push me open wider. His tongue is relentless, swirling around, tapping, and I reach for him, tangling my fingers into his hair and tugging on it when he lightly sucks on me.

“Oh…oh, I-” I break open, cry out as I come, Clint’s tongue guiding me through my release. I release his hair, my legs falling open as he sits back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. 

He stands, offering me his hand and I take it, allowing him to pull me up against his body. He smells like cedar, a hint of cigarette smoke, and me, my head swimming with the scent of it all. 

“Bedroom?” He asks, his eyebrows raised.

I nod, almost too much in my enthusiasm. “This way.”

I take his hand and lead him on wobbly legs down the small hallway to my bedroom, grateful that I had made the bed this morning. Clint closes the door behind himself and turns to look at me. Several long moments pass where we just look at each other, the energy in the air electric, as if he didn’t have his head between my legs just moments ago. He closes the distance between us in a step or 2, stopping just short of me.

“Turn.”

I do as he says, feeling his large hand work my zipper down, his fingers brushing against my skin as he pulls the dress down and off, coming back to do the same to my bra. He moves my hair off my neck, placing soft kisses there as one hand wraps around my boob and the other dips a finger between my thighs. My head lolls back and I moan, feeling him pinch and tug at my nipple as I get wetter and wetter. I can feel him nearly bulging out of his jeans, the denim pressed against my ass, so I gently grab his wrists and turn around. 

I say nothing as I start to unbutton his flannel, sliding it down and off his broad shoulders, noting the appearance of a new scratch on his chest since the last time he’d taken his shirt off around me. I keep my eyes on his face as my hands unlatch his belt, popping open the button on his pants before carefully sliding down his zipper. I push his jeans down, getting on my knees to help slide them off of his legs. I look up at him as I pull down his underwear, a small grunt from him as he springs free. I want to return the favor, take him in my mouth but then his hand grips my chin, pulling me back to standing. 

“I’d love to feel your mouth on me, but Poppy, I want to make love to you.”

He helps me lay back on the bed, his eyes roaming over my naked body, more dark loving than I’ve ever seen them.

“You’re so beautiful, Poppy.”

I spread my legs, allowing him to settle between them. He kisses me, soft at first, his mustache tickling my upper lip, his hands sliding across my body, goosebumps following in his wake. His lips travel down my neck, finding a spot just below the side of my jaw that has me squirming, my fingers burying themselves in his hair. 

But then he pushes in and the world stops, nothing else in the world exists but us. We meld together, our bodies moving as one, slotting together like we were made for each other. I writhe under him, his hips breaking me open out of my cocoon, showing me what pleasure really is, what love really is. His hips thrust a little harder and I come, his name tumbling from my lips like a chant, praising him as my nails dig into his back. I feel his hips sputter, soft grunts and pants in my ear as he comes with me, his forehead coming to rest against mine. 

“Holy shit,” he says, his breath puffing out against my face. “That was..”

“It was.”

He lifts his head and looks at me, kissing me softly before pulling out, and getting a washcloth to clean me up. 

A steak dinner never tasted so good.

CLINT

He was the happiest he’d ever been. Poppy was a beacon of light in the darkness that was his life, always there to welcome him with open arms. It had only been a few weeks, but he loved her. He knew deep down that he never wanted to be without her. 

He just felt so fucking guilty about it. 

He was torn on telling her about his job, his real job, not the one he told her he did. He wasn’t a delivery man, although he did deliver whatever terrible fate that The Guy bestowed upon those who crossed him in business. He’d been a little too preoccupied tonight and his mark managed to slice his cheek with a knife before Clint snuffed the life from him.

But Poppy doesn’t even question it, just takes him into the bathroom and gently cleans his cut, dabbing some alcohol on it that burns, but not enough to distract him from the guilt he feels. He knows he has to get out. 

A few months go by and he couldn’t be happier with Poppy. They had been dating for about 8 months and he wanted desperately to ask her to move in with him, but first he had to leave The Guy. He couldn’t have him showing up whenever he felt like it. No matter what, he would protect Poppy from that side of his life. 

After he kills his next mark, he heads back to The Guy to give him his confirmation of delivery, so-to-speak. 

“What would I do without you, Clint?”

Clint shifts his weight to his back leg, hands on his hips. “Actually, I need to talk to you about that.”

The Guy sits back in his chair, lacing his fingers together. “Oh?”

Clint clears his throat. “Yeah. I uh, I need to retire.”

The Guy raises an eyebrow. “Retire?”

“Yeah. My body isn’t what it used to be. My knees almost gave out tonight. I can’t continue like this.”

The guy sits there, his fingers still laced together as he studies Clint. “You have served me well, Clint. I’ll let you out, holding onto that evidence in case you try to cross me-”

“I would never. I’m not a snitch.”

The Guy holds up a hand. “I know. One can never be too careful these days. I think you get that?” Clint nods. “Good. I’ll let you out but I have one more delivery for you to make first. You’re the only one I can trust with it. What do you say?”

Clint stands there for a moment, thinking about his options. He only has one. “Deal.”

They shake on it, The Guy gives him the details, and Clint is out the door, feeling a little lighter now that he can see the light at the end of the tunnel. He’s finally getting out, starting a new life free of bloodshed with the love of his life.

He killed that last mark in near record time, The Guy shaking his hand and thanking him for all of his hard work. 

He knows she’s on the late shift again tonight, so after he cleans up, Clint heads over to the diner, their diner, watching Poppy move about through the dusty window. She smiles at a customer, but when Clint walks in and she sees him, her entire faces lights up, her eyes beaming as she crosses the room, pressing her lips to his and forgetting herself for a few seconds before pulling back, her face hot.

“Clint! To what do I owe this surprise?”

“Move in with me.”

He hadn’t meant to ask it like that, so blunt and harsh. But he couldn’t wait anymore and it sort of just came out when he opened his mouth. Surprise on her face, her eyes widening for a moment before that smile splits her face again, the one she has only for him.

“When can I get my things?”

They get married exactly 1 year from the day they met.

“Poppy! What are you doing?” Clint rushes into the kitchen, quickly snatching the knife Poppy was using to spread peanut butter on her sandwich. 

“Clint, I’m pregnant, not sick. I can do it myself.”

“The doctor said to rest.”

She smiled, a soft smile and squeezed his bicep. “The doctor said for me to relax the last 2 months. Not stay in bed entirely.”

Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just..let me do things for you, ok? Have a seat on the couch and I’ll bring your food.”

Poppy looks like she wants to argue for a moment, but then gives in, tossing her hands in the air before heading into the living room. 

“And don’t forget the-”

“Apples. I got it, Poppy.”

Clint arranges 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and some apple slices on a plate, also grabbing a glass of water to set on the coffee table in front of her. She reaches for the plate with grabby hands, smiling and shifting her weight as she settles in, making light work of the food before downing half the glass of water. 

“Thanks, babe.”

Clint puts his arm around her shoulders and kisses her head. “Anything for you.” He shifts a little. “You need a foot massage?”

“The day I turn down a foot massage, just know I’m a clone.”

Clint chuckles as he helps Poppy turn, laying back on the couch, her head on the arm. He takes one of her feet in his hands and starts to work them, spending extra time on the knots and sore spots. The sounds Poppy makes has him shifting in his seat, his hands starting to work up her legs. He gets to her upper thighs, leaning down to press kisses along her inner thigh before she gently grabs his wrist. 

“Hey now, that’s what put this here,” she gestures to her belly. 

Clint presses another kiss to her inner thigh, higher up this time, listening as her breath hitches. “Well then, let me help you relax.”

Clint spends the next hour buried between her legs, Poppy’s fingers twisting in his hair, his fingers digging into her legs as she chants his name over and over and he thinks this would be the perfect way to go: smothered between his wife’s thighs.

“And that makes the last payment! Will you be taking home the crib today, sir?”

Clint puts his wallet in his pocket, nodding to the cashier. “I’ve got my truck out front.”

“Let me call for some help.” The cashier leans over her mic and asks for someone named John to come to the front for customer assistance. She makes idle chit chat with Clint, asking how his wife is doing so close to her due date.

“She’s stubborn and better be sitting her ass down and letting me take care of her,” Clint chuckles along with the cashier. 

“Don’t be too hard on her. She is fighting that nesting urge. It’s hard to resist, trust me!”

John comes up and takes the other end of the large box that contains a beautiful wooden crib that Poppy had laid eyes on months ago, determined to have that exact one for their baby. Clint had put it on layaway that same day, making sure he’d pay it off in time to assemble it before the baby’s arrival. He thanks John and takes off, glancing in the back at the box and smiling a little, already envisioning Poppy’s ecstatic face when she sees what he’s brought home. He turns onto their gravel drive, pulling into his parking spot and shifting the truck to park. He glances up at the house before reaching for the handle and freezes.

The door is cracked open. 

It’s very unlike Poppy to leave the door open, even when bringing in groceries. Clint’s eyes remain glued to the door, but he leans over to open the glovebox, carefully extracting the handgun he had stashed there. He checks the make sure it’s loaded before getting out of the truck, cautiously moving towards the front door, his stomach twisting tighter and tighter the closer he got. 

There were wood chips on the front step, an indication that this was not simply a case of forgetting to close the door. Someone had broken in. Gently, he pushes the door open, waiting a moment and hears nothing. He steps inside, gun raised and ears on high alert for anything, any sound. The main hall and living room are empty, aside from furniture tossed about, some of it destroyed. But as he cuts through the dining room just about to reach the kitchen, his boot slips and he looks down, choking back the fear and panic that immediately threatened to take him over.

Blood. 

He pushes into the kitchen, eyes roaming around at the mess and then he steps around the island, dropping to the floor and tossing the gun aside. 

“Poppy? Oh God Poppy? Can you hear me?” He cradles her head in his lap, tears flowing down his cheeks. Her color is pale and he can’t tell where the blood is coming from exactly. But then she blinks and he lets out a choking cry as she looks at him.

“Hey baby! Don’t move. I’m gonna call someone.”

“C…Cl…Clint…” Her words are choked and he can tell she’s holding back tears.

“Ssshh don’t talk, baby. You’ll be alright. I’m here now.” He reaches up on the counter, hand tapping around and landing on the phone before pulling it down to him. He quickly dials 9-1-1, barking at the responder to send an ambulance immediately before Poppy calls his name again and he drops the phone.

“They’re coming, Poppy. Just hold on.”

“Clint…I…I love you.”

“Hey now, none of that. You’re going to be ok, you hear me?” His throat is tight, his stomach churning as he pets her head, wiping the blood onto his pants. 

“Please..be happy. I want…want you to be..be happy.”

“I will be happy because you’ll be here with me.” He cradles her head in his lap, the tears falling harder and she reaches up, a wavering hand smeared with blood that she places on his cheek. Their eyes meet and in them he can see her resolve, her sorrow not for her own life but for him, for not being able to be here for him.

“Be happy, Clint. Have..have a good life. I can’t wait-” she gasps and closes her eyes for a moment before blinking them open and he can already see the glossiness in them. “-can’t wait to hear..all about it. I…I love you, Clint.” 

He swallows hard. “I love you too, baby.”

She smiles, one last time before she slumps, the light in her eyes that hard brightened his life gone, snuffed out too soon. Clint wails, yells, screams, and sobs into the empty house, holding her close. The pain is too loud, too raw and real, threatening to overtake him. But then people are in their house, his house, trying to take her from him. He fights back, yelling and screaming they can’t take her from him, and then he feels a sting in his neck before the world blacks out around him. 

It’s a bright and sunny day, the sky a vibrant shade of blue, and just the right amount of fluffy, white clouds in the sky. Poppy would call it the most perfect of days, warm but not too warm, the perfect day to spend outside. 

Clint blinks in the sunlight as he watches them lower 2 caskets into the ground, one considerably smaller than the other, the priest saying some sort of prayer over them as the people gathered around shed their tears. Clint picks up a handful of dirt, holding it in his hand for a few moments while he stares down at the wooden boxes that contain his family, his future, all taken from him in the blink of a violent eye. He always thought he’d be the one to go out that way, in a bloody mess. But not them. They didn’t deserve this.

Clint tosses the dirt on the caskets and steps back, letting her parents toss handfuls on top as well, not really hearing them when they bring him in for a hug and mumble something about coming over for dinner. He doesn’t hear any of them as they file past him, patting his shoulder, telling him if he needs anything to just call. That they were all here for him. But what he needs the most, they can’t provide. No one can bring them back, bring her back.

Clint returns home, skipping the wake at her parents’ house for some quiet contemplation. The house is nearly silent, only the clock on the wall and the hum of the appliances make any sort of noise. Clint sits at the little table they had in the kitchen, staring down at the floor where he had held her for the last moments of her life. 

He had cried so much since then, wailing and screaming at the world, begging whomever is listening to take him instead, that he would gladly switch places with them, give up his sorry life for them to have a chance. But of course, nothing happened besides his throat hurting, his eyes stinging from overuse. 

But as he stares at the floor, depression and sorrow washing over him, a small thought ticks at the back of his head. He initially had thought it was a random break in, not all uncommon in Oakland. But when he had picked up the pieces of his broken life, he had noticed that nothing had been missing. All of Poppy’s jewelry, despite most of it being costume jewelry, was still there, so was the tv and pretty much everything else. It hadn’t clicked then, too preoccupied in his immediate grief to really think. 

This wasn’t a random act of violence. This was targeted. This was specific. This was for him. 

Clint hates himself anew, burying his face in his hands at the idea of him being the cause of their death. But then it hits him, washes over him and changes his purpose. Once it was to take care of her, of his family, but that had been ripped away and so had his future, his purpose. 

Vengeance. 

He had nothing left to lose. Nothing that anyone could possibly take from him. So why not go out in a blaze of violence, taking down everyone that was connected to his wife and child’s death.

Clint pushes his sorrow aside, locking it away gently as he gets to work locating those who would soon meet their day of judgement.

Several months later…

Clint sits in his truck, staring at the entrance to a seedy bar, watching a few wayward souls enter, one punching the other in the arm before the door closes behind them. He glances down at the paper in his hand, triple checking that he had the address right. He takes out a lighter and burns the paper, waiting until the last embers fade out before getting out of his truck and heading inside. 

He sits at the bar and orders a drink, taking a few sips before flagging down the bartender again, asking him if he recognizes a few names. The bartender, a middle aged man with eyes that had seen war, stares at him for a few moments before nodding towards a corner, a small group of men standing around the pool table. Clint thanks the bartender, leaving a large tip on the counter before turning in his stool to watch the men. There were 4 of them and they were already towing the line between buzzed and drunk, slightly stumbling around before taking their shots. 

Clint moves silently over, quietly sliding his blade into 2 of them, not waiting for their bodies to crumble to the floor before the other two even noticed he was there. One tried to swing at him, which he dodges easily, his blade quieting the man’s movements. The last guy, Rick, backed into a corner, desperately fumbling with something he had in the back of his pants, presumably a gun. Clint takes 2 large steps towards him, a second too late to see the man stop searching for the gun and grab a knife instead, swinging it wide and slicing into Clint’s side.

Clint stumbles, grunting for a moment before straightening up, dodging the man’s swings, ignoring the yelps from the other bar patrons as Rick swings wildly, knife cutting into the air just in front of Clint. He gets a few more blows in, pain searing into Clint before he grabs Rick’s wrist, turning it with a crack, Rick yelping in pain as his knife drops to the floor. Clint gets his knife to Rick’s side, pinning him against the wall.

“You killed my family.”

“Wh..what?”  

Clint presses the knife a little harder and Rick grunts in pain. “You killed my family.”

“Look look look. I don’t know who you are, man!” Another small push and Rick yelps again. “Can you be more specific?”

Clint glares at him. “In my kitchen. Woman. Pregnant.”

The color seems to drain from the man’s face as he recognizes the situation. “Oh..oh..well, listen, we were just given’ the assignment, right? No hard feelings. We were just doing what we were told!”

“Who told you?”

“Ah, look man. I can’t just-” Clint pushes the knife further, feeling warmth start to seep out around the knife. “-ok ok! Fuck, stop! I’ll tell you!” He whispers a name to Clint, a name that sounded vaguely familiar. Frances Stokes. He thinks he’s worked with him before.

“Is that all?” Clint barks out.

Rick furiously nods his head. “Yes, yes!”

“Thanks.” Clint drives the knife further in and up, waiting for Rick to slump over. But when he turns around, the barrel of a gun is pointed at him, the bartender obviously nervous.

“Get out of here, man! Just go!”

Clint doesn’t need telling twice. He doubts anyone in here will say anything, each of them involved in their other dark dealings to be in a place like this. Clint makes it to the front door, stumbling out onto the sidewalk, his hand clutched to his side. He glances down at his hand, seeing the crimson shine in the street light. He glances up and for a moment is transported: a woman, the same hair as Poppy’s stares back at him, only a few feet away, eyes wide as she takes him in. 

“Look out!” She yells at him, just in time for Clint to turn, stopping the man that had been running up behind him with a fist to his stomach. They both fall to the ground, rolling and punching before Clint gets on top, letting his fists fly as the guy’s head slams against the pavement. Clint shifts off of him, turning to see the woman still there, her hair like a shining beacon before he feels himself falling backwards, the blackness swallowing him.

Sunlight warms his face and for a moment, Clint feels transported. Like he was at home, safe in his bed with-

He blinks awake, reality slamming into him as he remembers punching the guy out before blacking out. His head feels like it’s splitting in 2, and his side hurts bad, like he had been stabbed - wait. He had been stabbed. He tries to sit up, groaning and laying back down when his head felt like it was splitting open.

“Hey, he lives! I wouldn’t sit up just yet.” 

Clint blinks rapidly a few times, the disembodied voice trying to permeate its way into the meat that is his brain right now. But then a person moves into his vision and it all comes flooding back: the woman from outside the bar. The one with hair just like Poppy’s.

“Where..” Clint coughs, just realizing how dry his mouth is. 

“Take it easy. I have some water here with a straw.” The woman grabs a cup off the side table and holds it next to him, pinching the straw inbetween her thumb and pointer finger so it stays in place. Clint debates for a moment on taking the drink from a stranger, but then again, if she had wanted to kill him, she’d have left him on that sidewalk. So he takes a few greedy sips before she pulls the straw from his mouth.

“Take it easy. Small sips.”

“Throat..dry.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been out for 2 days. But you have to take small sips so you don’t overload your system.”

Clint nods and the straw returns. He does as she says and realizes she was right. She sets the cup back on the side table.

“Where am I?” Clint lets out a small cough.

“You’re at my apartment. I couldn’t just leave you there, not after you took care of that man.”

The man. Right. “He ok?”

“I shouldn’t have bothered checking him, not after he nearly attacked me, but I’m a nurse and I took an oath so,” She gestures vaguely around the room. “He died on the sidewalk.”

Well that’s one less thing he has to worry about. “You don’t seem shaken about that.”

Her eyes go somewhere else for a moment before she blinks. “I’m no stranger to death.”

Silence rules the room for several long moments. 

“Are you hungry? I have some pain pills but we should get some food in you too. I also have some clean towels and clothes in the bathroom if you’d like to shower.”

“I think food sounds good.”

She nods and heads out of the room, distant sounds coming from the kitchen. Clint looks around the room. It was obviously her bedroom, sparsely decorated but a few photos of presumably family sit in frames on her dresser, as does an empty vase. She has a random poster on the wall, a movie poster for The Thing. The blanket he has is soft and light blue, but not frilly like he’d expect. But it is warm and comforting. She comes back in with a tray, a bowl of vegetable soup and a grilled cheese sandwich sitting on it, a glass of water off to the side. She places it on the dresser and walks to him. 

“Let me help you sit up.”

“Oh, I don’t want to mess your sheets up.”

She waves her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I can always get new sheets.”

She helps him sit up, Clint holding his head for several moments before the searing pain abates. She puts the tray over his lap, tapping on the tray next to 2 small pills. “Make sure to take those now and eat some food after. I’ll let you eat.”

Clint reaches for the pills. “Thanks, Flo.”

She cocks her head and looks at him. “Flo?”

Clint pops the pills in his mouth, taking a few more sips of water to swallow them with, hoping they act fast. “Yeah. Like Florence Nightingale. The nurse?”

She smiles and tells him her name. “But Flo. I like it.”

That night, Flo insists he takes her bed again, that he needs the space to recover. He tries to argue but she’ll have none of it, promptly telling him goodnight and to yell if he needs anything before closing the door most of the way. 

The pain in his side keeps him from getting a good sleep, pain throbbing out from the wound Flo had stitched up. He didn’t want to bother her, he could just grunt through it, but then she was there, softly pushing the door open and rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

“Fuck, didn’t mean to wake you, Flo.”

She yawns and stretches, her sleep shirt lifting a little and exposing a sliver of skin. “You didn’t. I have to get up for work anyway. But I can see you’re in pain. The meds not working?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.”

“That happens sometimes when you gain consciousness. Give me a minute.” She disappears into the other room and returns a few minutes later, some scrubs tossed quickly on. She has a small pill bottle in her hand and she shakes one out, handing it to Clint.

“You can have one of these now but not another until I get home, ok? It’s pretty strong so don’t go mixing it with alcohol or anything.”

Clint nods. “Got it.” He pops the pill and swallows it, thanking Flo as she sets down some food next to him. 

“I’m going to be home this evening, but if you need me, here’s my work number. Just ask for me.” She sets a piece of paper down next to the phone on the nightstand. She pauses for a moment and looks at him. “I’ll uh..see you tonight.”

The meds kick in when she leaves and mercifully, they knock him out, Clint finally able to get the sleep his body desperately needed.

Fuck, getting injured at his age was not fun. Stabbings hurt a lot more than they used to. When Flo gets home she brings him more food, then has him take another pain pill. He passes out again, his dreams carrying him to dark places with familiar violent themes. He thrashes about, trying to rid himself of the images, and is yanked from his nightmare by a hand squeezing his shoulder. Clint’s eyes fly open and Poppy is standing there, her hair framing her face. He reaches out to touch her cheek, his fingers barely touching her soft skin.

“Poppy?”

She’s saying something that he can’t make out, so he shakes his head and blinks a few times. But when he opens them, he sees Flo standing there, worry etched in her features. 

“Clint! Are you with me?”

He puts his hand to his head and nods. “I…I think so.”

She puts her hand on his chest, trying to help him slow his breathing. “Are you ok? You were making a lot of noise.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Are you ok?”

He takes a moment, his head still foggy. “I…will be. I think.”

She stands there for another moment. “Who’s Poppy?”

Clint's eyes harden as he glares at her. “What did you say?”

Flo pulls her hand back, regret in her eyes. “Poppy. You were calling her name. Is it someone I can call for-”

“NO! Don’t ever say that name again! Get out!”

Flo nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Tears immediately fall down his cheeks and he buries his face in the pillow, remembering the first and last time he’d seen Poppy.

It was nearly a week before he could tolerate not being on those heavy pain meds. Basic ones now worked just as well and his head started to clear. He was having flashes of memories from the week but nothing concrete. He did feel like he needed to apologize to Flo but for what, he couldn’t clearly remember.

Clint walks to the kitchen, the movement feeling good. He puts together a dinner of sorts, random things he can find in Flo’s fridge that seems to just have ingredients, nothing premade. He just sits on the couch, taking a bite of a sandwich when the front door opens and Flo walks in, gently shaking out her coat before hanging it on the hook. 

“Raining?” Clint asks, his mouth still full of sandwich.

“Oh, hey! Yeah. Not so bad here but it was pouring by the hospital.” She moves around to sit next to him on the couch, her eyes studying him. “How are you feeling?”

“So much better. I really can’t thank you enough.”

She glances down at his plate with his small sandwich. “Why don’t I whip us up something warm? Just give me a few minutes to wash off the day.”

“Oh you don’t-”

“I have to eat too. I’ll just make more.”

She made something called pesto pasta, which Clint had never heard of before. It was different but he would eat it again for sure. They watched some game show and then the news before Flo was yawning. 

“You want to take your bed back tonight?”

“No, that’s ok. You take it. I’ve got my own little nest going out here.”

Clint chuckles. “If you’re sure.”

He gets ready for bed and sits down to get comfortable. It was then he noticed that he had left his medicine in the living room. Before he could do anything, there was a soft knock at the door and Flo comes in carrying the pain meds. 

“You forgot these. Figured you’d want them.”

“Thanks.” Clint takes the bottles and pops them open, swallowing the pills with the glass of water on the nightstand. Flo turns to leave but Clint stops her.

“Wait. Can I ask you something?”

Flo turns around to look at him. “Sure.”

“Did I…did I do or say anything to you when I was on those big meds?”

Her face hardens slightly. “Nothing I’m not used to. It’s ok.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. What did I say?”

“It’s ok, really. I’ve had worse.”

“It’s not ok to me.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Flo, please. Tell me.”

She hesitates a moment, her eyes bouncing between his before she sits on the bed. 

“You were making a lot of noise one night and I came in to check on you. Your eyes opened but I don’t think you were really seeing things. You kept calling me Poppy. And when I asked who she was, you flipped out.”

Clint’s jaw tightens as the memory floods back. Her hair. That’s what made him think…

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me, Clint. I just wanted to know if I needed to call someone-”

“Poppy…was my wife.”

“Oh.”

Silence stretches on for several seconds before Clint swallows hard, continuing.

“She was…the love of my life. Made me a better man. Great woman. We got married…got pregnant. And then…” Clint clears his throat, blinking back tears, Flo waiting patiently, letting him take his time.

“I came home one day and they were…I held her while she…died.” He whispers the last word, but it’s like he yelled it, screamed it. He’d never talked about it with anyone, not even Poppy’s parents. 

Flo puts her hand on his and squeezes. “I’m so sorry, Clint.” He just nods, trying not to lose his shit in front of her. 

“You have her hair. It’s almost exactly like hers. So I guess I saw it and mixed with the meds, I thought…you were her.”

Flo nods, squeezing his hand a little harder. “I understand.”

Clint looks at her, his eyes hardening slightly. “How would you understand? How would you know what it’s like?”

She takes a deep breath before puffing it out. “I was engaged once. High school sweethearts. We were waiting to get married until we were out of school. Anyway, he was taking night classes and one night, this other guy decided it would be super fun to get drunk and drive….I lost my future that night. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Fuck. So she did know exactly how it feels.

“You remind me of him sometimes.” She says it so quietly Clint almost misses it.

“I do?”

“Yeah. It’s not…it’s in your small movements, the way the light hits your hair sometimes. So..I get it. Honestly, it’s just nice having someone else here. Someone who gets it.”

“Yeah. It is.” Clint squeezes her hand back and she looks at him, her eyes big in the lamp light, the glow bouncing off her hair and looking just like Poppy’s. 

Their hands stay intertwined for several long moments, Clint rubbing his thumb gently over the back of her hand. She scoots a little closer to him, her hand gently sliding up his arm. Clint’s breath picks up as her hand cups his cheek and they lock eyes, both silently asking the other if this was ok. Clint hesitates for a moment before slowly lowering his head to hers, their lips gently touching. Flo’s lips are soft and a little more plush than Poppy’s, but her tongue timidly brushing against his lips is all the permission he needs. 

His hand slides to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulls her close, his tongue dancing with hers. She moans softly, clutching at his shirt and he feels his pants growing tighter. Flo pulls back slightly, resting her forehead against his. 

“Bedroom. Nurse’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Flo takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom, the door closing behind them. For a moment they stare at each other, another moment of confirmation before she starts to pull her shirt off, the rest of her clothes following. Clint matches her actions, his own clothes falling into a pile on the floor. His eyes roam over her body before stepping forward, pulling her face to his again. Her fingers glide up the sides of his body, her warmth pressing into him and it all feels so intense, but not bad. He walks her backwards, her legs hitting the bed and she breaks the kiss to climb up it, Clint crawling over her, Flo’s legs opening to give him space. Her hands lightly squeeze his biceps, which feels nice but then the light from outside hits her hair a certain way and for a moment he’s transported, sees Poppy. 

His hips push against hers as his hand grips her hair, her heat enveloping him as she moans, her legs wrapping around him. He blinks and it’s Flo again, but as he works his hips against hers, the light catches every now and then in her hair, he gets flashes of Poppy.

Fuck, this feels good. It had been so long since he’d held someone, felt them touch him like this. He had been alone for too long, not letting himself live fully. He felt guilty, even with Poppy telling him to live his life. His eyes find Flo’s and he can tell she goes somewhere else occasionally too, his guilt slightly lessening at the thought he’s bringing her some comfort like she is him.

He can feel himself getting closer to the edge. He licks his fingers and snakes them between their bodies, teasing her between her legs. He can feel her starting to squirm, her breaths starting to pick up. Clint grabs her hand with his free one, lacing their fingers together as he pushes her hand into the mattress slightly above her head. Her fingers dig into his skin but the second she tightens around him he comes, burying his face in her hair. 

When he rolls off of her, Clint pulls her to him, feeling her nuzzle further into his chest before falling asleep. He stays awake a little longer, gently tracing shapes on her back as he thinks.

In the morning, just before the sun rises, he gets dressed, gathering up the handful of personal items he had. He hesitates briefly, staring down Flo as she sleeps. He presses a kiss to her head, silently thanking her for everything she had done for him before he steps out into the morning light, back into his life of violence.

A Few Months Later…

“You thought you could just kill my family and nothing would happen?” Clint twists the knife he had in the man’s leg, smirking when he screams out in pain.

“N..no!”

“Then why did you come for them?” Clint taps the knife and the man whimpers. 

“I wasn’t…we weren’t going to.” Tears were streaming down the man’s face, fear at seeing the end of his life.

“But then you decided to try and find me? Why?”

The man takes a shuddering breath. “Will you not kill me if I tell you?”

Clint grips the knife and the man cries out. “How about I’ll kill you if you don’t?”

“OK! OK!” He takes another breath, inhaling sharply through his nose. “We weren’t trying to seek revenge. But then one day, we get invited to this house and get handed everything on you. Who you are, where you live, all of it.”

Clint cocks his head. “Who gave it to you? Why?”

“They..they said they would give us a chance at revenge. Only if we promise to…to take you out.”

“Take me out. Why did you kill my wife?”

The man blinks, swallowing hard. “We were told to since she was…since your line would be carried on.”

Clint had to take several deep breaths so he didn’t turn this man inside out. He still needed one more piece of information. Someone had betrayed him, and he had a strong feeling he knew who. He swallows down his rage and looks the man in his eyes.

“Who?” He grunts it through gritted teeth and the man shivers. 

“He’ll kill me.”

Clint twists the knife hard and the man screams, jerking around against his restraints. “Who?”

The man seems to rethink his situation. “The….The Guy.”

That was the answer Clint was hoping not to hear but had a suspicion he would. It was the only thing that made sense. The Guy didn’t want him to quit, his best hitman. He knew the only way Clint would come back would be to have someone take away his new life. And The Guy made sure of that. 

Before the man could beg, Clint yanked the knife from his leg and slit his throat, waiting until the gurgling and sputtering stopped, his body still before he sighs, getting to work on cleaning up the mess. But his mind was elsewhere, planning and plotting. Which is why he didn’t hear another man coming up behind him until it was too late, his body falling sideways and slamming into the ground. 

The man gets on top of him, pulling out a knife. Clint dodges as best he can, but he does get a good knick on his shoulder. Grunting, Clint throws his body weight and the man, a lot skinnier than him, gets thrown off balance. Clint pushes up and manages to flip them, gripping the man’s wrist and slamming it against the floor, the knife clattering across the ground. No weapon in hand, Clint reaches for the man’s head, but his shoulder sends searing pain down his arm. He must have dislocated it when he hit the ground. Instead, Clint grabs the man’s hair, slamming his head into the ground until he stops moving. He gets off the man and sits for a moment to catch his breath, his shoulder throbbing.

Well this will make cleaning up suck. 

He can’t go to the hospital, but he knows he needs stitches. He can’t do it himself because of his fucking shoulder, which is just violently throbbing at this point. He knows where he can go, but should he? Finally, he gives in, knowing he has no other option. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Flo, he does. He really does. But that’s the exact reason he shouldn’t go. He doesn’t need to bring his shit to her.

He sighs, knocking on her door. It takes a moment but the door opens and there she is, almost glowing, just gorgeous. And for a moment, he’d forgotten why he was there.

“Oh! You’re bleeding!” Flo takes his hand but he jerks it back.

“Shoulder is dislocated.”

“You’re just all kinds of fun. Come on in.” 

Clint heads inside, kicking off his boots before following Flo into the kitchen. She pulls out a chair from the table and motions for him to sit down as she goes to get her med kit. She returns a moment later and sets it on the table, moving to stand next to him. 

“I take it you’ve had a dislocated shoulder before?” 

Clint looks up, her eyes big and round and he momentarily wonders why he had left. He nods, preparing himself while she gets into position, gripping him.

“Ready?”

“Just do it.”

Flo nods, looking down at his arm. “1…2…I’m pregnant.”

“What?! FUCK!” His arm pops back into place, the initial sharp pain quieting down to a dull ache. Flo hands him some pain meds and a glass of water but he pushes them away.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Take these. You’ll need them. I’ll also sling your arm.” 

“Fuck the sling. Flo, you’re…you’re pregnant?”

She takes the sling off the table, not meeting his eyes yet. She helps him get situated in the sling and reaches for the alcohol to start dabbing at his other arm. Clint had completely forgotten about the knife gash. But before she starts, he grabs her wrist, giving it a little shake so she’ll look at him. She sighs and meets his gaze, worry etched in her face.

“I..am.”

“Who…am…am I…”

“I’ve only been with you since the accident.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He didn’t mean to get her pregnant. Fuck, this is not what either of them need. It’s not that he doesn’t want the kid. He would love to be a dad, was going to be a dad before…fuck. He has to kill The Guy or he’d find them and kill them too. FUCK. He has to protect them. Clint is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t even feel it when Flo starts to sew his wound, tying it off and putting a bandaid over it.

“You should be all set. Just try not to fuck with that shoulder too much.”

Clint’s mind clears and he focuses on the main objective: to keep Flo and his unborn child safe. He can’t let them die for him, for his mistakes. He will never let that happen again, even if it kills him.

“I’ve gotta go.” Clint abruptly stands and pushes past a bewildered Flo, grabbing his keys and closing the door gently behind him. It never occurs to him to say anything to Flo. She doesn’t need to know about this. About any of it. He’s so absorbed in his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the sobs coming from inside the home as he walks away from it. 

It takes him another month to locate The Guy’s new hiding place. He imagines it would be difficult for anyone to find - anyone who doesn’t know The Guy like he does. Clint watches from his steakout point, his eyes hardening and his brain sliding into his job mode, compartmentalizing what he needs to do to protect his family. What he should’ve done before.

The bodyguards at the door hesitate when Clint walks towards them, but soon they are silenced, slumping to the ground before they even had time to draw their guns. Quietly, Clint moves inside, making his way down the hall, silencing another several guards. The Guy really needed to hire better employees. He pauses outside of what looks like a main door, listening. From inside, he hears a familiar voice, a voice that has commanded him to do so many violent things for him.    

“I don’t care what it takes, I want it done!” A phone slams down, The Guy sighs. “I swear, it’s so hard to find good help these days.” 

Clint listens for a few minutes, hearing no other movement behind the door aside from The Guy, assuming he was alone in his office. Clint takes a deep breath and stands straight, holding his gun at the ready before pushing in the door and aiming his gun directly at The Guy. When Clint enters, The Guy glances up, all color draining from his face. He was totally alone and he knew from looking at Clint that the cat was out of the bag.

“H-hey Clint. How’s retired life?”

“Why?”

Beads of sweat start to drip down The Guy’s temples. “Why what?”

“Why did you kill them?”

He seems to debate for a moment, settling on the truth instead of pretending he didn’t know. “Look man, good workers are hard to find. And you were the best. You did everything for me and so when you wanted to leave….well, you knew too much.”

“So you took out my family?”

The Guy shrugs. “I figured maybe you’d come back if you had nothing left. Besides, I couldn’t have you continuing your line if they’d go to work for someone-”

POP!

Clint fires his gun, hitting The Guy directly in the forehead, his body crumbling to the ground. He listens for a moment, but no one comes running. No one else is here. Clint lowers his gun, dropping to his knees and buries his face in his hands, wailing and screaming, as he gets closure on the last chapter of his life.

Clint stands in front of Flo’s door, hesitating for a moment before knocking. He had been sitting in front of her apartment for another 2 weeks, making sure no one was casing the joint. But no one would - Clint had taken out the remainder of The Guy’s associates. No one would be coming for them. 

The door opens and Flo stands before him looking absolutely breath taking. Her eyes widen and her mouth nearly drops on the floor.

“Clint?” She whispers it, hesitating for a moment before reaching her hand out. 

“It’s me.”

SLAP!

Clint rubs at his cheek, chuckling a little to himself at the assault. He deserved that. He deserved more than that.

“What the fuck Clint? I tell you I’m pregnant with your baby and you just leave? Not even a word?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Flo. But I had to…had to make sure you were safe.”

“I don’t expect you to be involved, but you could’ve- safe?”

He nods. ”Can I come in?”

She studies him, her eyes somehow seeing through him and she nods, opening the door. “Lock it behind you.”

This time, he decides to tell her everything, about his past life, about what happened to Poppy, what he’d done now to protect them. How he couldn’t let it happen again, not when he has the chance to have a family again. To his surprise, when he was done, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him, holding him tight. He hugs her back, swallowing down some tears and melting into her embrace. It’s several long moments before she pulls back, cupping his face with her soft, warm hands.

“It’s not your fault, Clint.”

He looks down, shrugs a little. “But-”

“You can’t control what other’s do. Poppy knew that. Why do you think her last words were of love and not revenge? She doesn’t blame you, Clint. She would want you to be happy. So, be happy. Even if…even if that’s not with us.”

His eyes snap to hers and he’s surprised to find tears there. “Do you want me to leave? I understand if you-”

“No!” She grips his face a little tighter. “No. I want you here, but I need all of you here. We need it. But if you can’t, I understand.”

“You…you want me? Even though I’ve…I’m a violent…”

She cuts him off by pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Look, I knew you were in some shit when we met. I’m not stupid. You came tumbling out of that bar stabbed and then tussled with another guy. I had to patch you up and you bled all over my floor. I figured you were in some shit. This is Oakland. But..you were also gentle with me and patient, even when I told you about my past and I thought…we had that moment and I know we were both a little in our heads during it, but it was..fuck, it was nice having someone, especially someone who..gets it. I like you, Clint. I don’t expect you to like me in the same way, but however you want to be involved in our lives, that’s fine with me.”

How the fuck did he lead such a violent and fucked up life, all the shit he’s done, and he managed to find not one but two amazing women who just cared for him despite it? Poppy never knew exactly what he did, but Clint always suspected she knew he wasn’t really a delivery driver. She just never pressed. Just carried on loving him. 

Clint reaches forward, cupping her face in his hand this time. “I want to be involved with the baby. And I’d…I’d like to see where this goes,” he gestures between them and she smiles, realizing his intent. 

“Really?”

“Really. But know that no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for both of you.”

Clint and Flo dated for a month or so before they decided it was easier to just move in together. They found a little place for their growing family, a little 2 bedroom place in a better area of town. Clint had had some extra money after taking out The Guy (and raiding his safe) and happily moved them all in. Clint is there for every weird craving, anytime she wanted something at 3am, foot massages, all of it. He loved being there for her, talking to her belly, but also being with her. Flo was the first person to help him realize that he still deserved love. And even if he didn’t believe it, he knew that Flo deserved it and he would spend the rest of his time making sure she had it. 

Their son Christopher came screaming into the world right on time. They got him cleaned up, wrapped in blankets and a little tiny hat and handed him to Clint. He gently takes Christopher in his arms, walking over to Flo who was still laying on the bed. Tears well in his eyes as he stares down at his son, Flo leaning her head on his arm and he sighs, happy that he’s finally getting the life he wanted. 

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#clint x reader #clint x you #pedro pascal #clint x f!reader #clint x female reader #clint #freaky tales #freaky tales ff #freaky tales fanfiction #freaky tales fanfic #clint fanfic #clint fic #clint ff #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal characters

[a-aexotic]

could you do a rafe imagine where he defends pouge!reader from getting into a serious fight with kooks and reader is super mad bc when no one’s watching hes super nice to her but when everyone kooks + pogues are around he’s so mean to her so when he defended her this time she got super angry at him for all of a sudden caring about her in public now

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. drinking, fighting, blood.

summary. you weren't exactly friends with rafe but he didn't hate you, either. what happens when another kook decides to press you?

taglist. tbd

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

Rafe Cameron was a enigma to you. He was a mystery to you; never quite understanding his true intentions or his true feelings towards you. One moment, he swears he enjoys your company and the other he's cursing your entire existence.

You could never read his expression no matter the situation, he never wore his heart on sleeve. Not only was he an enigma, he knew how confusing he was to everyone he was to others and he used that to his advantage. He now had the power to change how outsiders saw him.

He wanted people to look his way and think how powerful he was, how strong he was. You were the only person to ever see past that big strong tough guy act. That's why he wanted you so badly; but he couldn't.

He'd betray everything he stood for because you were a Pogue. Even though Rafe felt a true connection to you, he couldn't just date you. It isn't that simple in Rafe's mind. If he were to date a Pogue, the entire island would be talking about it and he didn't want to cause more trouble for himself.

As shallow as that was, that was the harsh truth.

Rafe loved conversations with you: they were never bland, you had the most interesting questions and the most unique answers. He loved the way you spoke so freely about everything and how you never judged him for anything he said.

He didn't know why he couldn't just cut you off like every other girl he's been with. He tried to convince himself it was just a phase, that he could find another you just as easily but he never could.

He wanted to leave you, he really did. That's what his brain told him to do but his heart didn't want to; he'd connected to you like no other. You were one of a kind.

So he decided he would keep you around in secret; he would have his time with you in private and would never speak of you with his Kook friends. Rafe was okay with that; but you weren't.

Every argument you and Rafe have had was rooted in the fact that he was a Kook and you were a Pogue.

You never cared about his money or status, you were find with just Rafe. But it seemed like he cared about your status and that made you feel like he was just using you.

Words could only go so far for Rafe. All his promises were empty; "I promise I'll tell my parents about us," "I promise I'll take you to the next event", "I promise I'll talk to you at the next party." And would he ever follow up? No.

He ignored you as soon as his Kook friends were around, laughing at you and treating you like nothing as soon as they were near them. That's what hurt the most, how little his words meant to him and how much they meant to you. He'd pass it off as a joke but it wasn't. He said that he didn't mean it but every time he said it, it would prove the opposite.

He wouldn't even defend you, no matter the situation it always seemed like the other was right and you were wrong. You were always in the wrong because you were a Pogue.

You wanted to cut him off but you couldn't. As much as he was an enigma to you, he was an enigma you wanted to solve. You didn't know who was his true self; was it the one when he was around just you or with his friends? You were scared of the answer.

The air was warm and the smell of the bonfire could be smelt from blocks away, the waves splashing onto the beach of the Boneyard. Bonfire parties were always your favorite; the sight of the beach in front of you gave you the freeing energy you needed once in a while.

You walked over to the drinks, grabbing yourself a beer. JJ and Pope were right behind you, arguing about if beer tasted better from the tap or in a bottle. You couldn't care less about their stupid argument but the right answer was obviously the tap.

"Y/N, what do you think?" JJ finally came up to, arms cross in determination. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Tap beer is the best beer. My dad would agree with me." You determined as Pope rolls his eyes in annoyance. You heard a motorcycle behind you and you turned around quickly.

You immediately knew who it was. You felt your heart jump as he took off his helmet, a smile suddenly appearing on your lips. You heard JJ sigh as he recognized who it was too. There he was, khaki pants in all: Rafe Cameron.

"God, the air just got more polluted, I could smell his body spray from here." Pope sighed as you let out a light laugh. They wouldn't this but Rafe didn't use body spray, he used cologne.

JJ grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the drinks table. "Let's get away from there."

He put his arm over your shoulder as you and Pope started walking. You opened your beer, taking a quick swing before sighing. "It's gonna be a long night."

The more you drank, the more dizzy you felt. But that didn't matter when everything becoming much more exciting. You were the lightweight of the Pogues; they knew they needed to be careful how much you drank or you would ruin the night for everyone.

But today, the only Pogues there were JJ and Pope. John B and Sarah had gotten sick (I wonder how) and Kie had a test she had to study for.

JJ was, of course, very irresponsible; so he found it way more interesting to dance with a tourist rather than make sure Y/N doesn't get into any trouble. And Pope got distracted with a girl who actually found what he was saying to be interesting.

So, you were all alone. Drinking and dancing with a group of people you don't know.

"H-Hey guys, I'll be right back. Getting a refill." You hiccupped as the people nodded. You couldn't even walk in a straight line because of how drunk you were but that was fine; you were having fun.

You got the refill and starting walking back to your group until you bumped into someone you'd never seen before. You accidentally spilled the beer all over his shirt.

You had realized what you'd done and immediately started apologizing. There were multiple people staring at you now.

He scoffed angrily, staring down at you. "Watch where you're going Pogue. You know much this shirt costs?"

You looked down at the shirt, trying to decipher a brand or anything that would tell you a price. But you genuinely didn't know. It was just a plain orange shirt to you. "Uh, 12 dollars?"

"12$?" He shouted, in utter disbelief at your words. "This shit probably costs more than your house,"

You were confused why someone would wear a hundred something dollar shirt to a party. "Why would you wear it here then? It's not my fault you decided to show up wearing an expensive shirt."

That definitely caused a reaction from his friends, earning some laughs. He scoffed again, frustrated.

"You definitely have a big mouth for a Pogue." He mumbled down to you and you just stood there. You had no idea why he was so mad; it was just a shirt. "Didn't your parents teach you fucking manners? Guess that's too much to ask for if your parents are just fucking Pogues."

The bitterness in his voice gave you goosebumps but you were definitely mad now. You shoved him hard, making him stumble down to the floor.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

He laughed as he got up, "That definitely struck a nerve, huh, Pogue?" He said mockingly. "Did daddy leave you and mommy behind, huh? Is that what happened?"

"Oh, shut up! Like you have a clue what you're talking about. All you've ever had to worry about was your parents separating. That's all the problems you've ever had. Oh my daddy doesn't love my mom! Oh, boo-hoo, whatever-"

He took your arm and gripped it hard, coming close to your face. "Shut the fuck up."

He was suddenly shoved onto the ground again by a strong force. You look to the side to suddenly see none other than Rafe Cameron.

Rafe then knelt down and grabbed his collar, slamming his fist into the side of his face in a hard punch. The boy groaned in pain as he landed another one.

You were standing there in shock, not knowing what to do. You heard JJ's voice shout behind you as he arrived next to you, grabbing your arm.

"The fuck happened!" He shouted as he looked down at the scene in front of him. You felt like you were going to throw up all the beers you just drank.

Rafe landed one punch after the other, the boy barely conscious at that point. You quickly sobered up.

"Rafe, stop!" You shouted as you tried grabbing Rafe's arm. He shook your hand off. Then, Topper appeared, grabbing Rafe and making him stand up.

"You ever put a hand on her again, I will kill you, you understand me?" Rafe said breathlessly, his knuckles bloody now. Everyone was staring at one another in confusion. Why did Rafe just get into a fight cus of a Pogue?

The boy could barely speak but Rafe knelt down again, grabbing his face. "Understood?"

He nodded. Rafe pushed his face away as he stood up. He looked at you before sniffling, walking away with Topper behind him.

"Dude, what the fuck was that for?" You could hear Topper shout from behind you but you were too sick to even turn.

JJ pulled you away from the crowd and he kept asking you questions you honestly didn't have an answer to. You were dizzy and your ears were ringing, your stomach hurt and you felt like you were going to throw up your lunch.

"Y/N, just answer me this: why did Rafe just beat up this random dude? Was it for you?"

"Y-Yes." You managed to get out.

JJ sighed, "why?"

He already knew the answer. He solved that as soon as Rafe had thrown the first punch; he cared for you. JJ was about to throw a punch too if it weren't for Rafe. Now that he's established why Rafe had done it, why does Rafe care about you all of a sudden?

You were asking yourself the same question.

#rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x kiara #obx jj #obx s3 #obx fanfiction #obx2 #obx #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #outerbanks #obx fic #obx season 3 #outer banks #obx 3 #kiara carrera

[nicromancytarot]

HOW I GOT STARTED IN TAROT AND MY TIPS FOR ANY OF YOU WHO ARE NEW TO IT!!!

I love to offer advice if you can’t already tell, and I also love tarot, so let’s talk about things that I have learnt from my journey as a tarot reader.

My journey

I started tarot at 14 years old while living with a family member who was shut off to the idea of spirituality, as it had hindered the life of my own mother, and caused her mental health issues in the past.

I decided to go against their requests and start practicing in secret, I didn’t have my own income so I wasn’t able to buy my own deck, instead I decided to make one. (Tarot is a tool, you don’t need “actual” tarot cards to be able to read.)

I used old train tickets that I had since I would take a couple of trains 5 days a week, which would give me 1, if not 2 tickets per day.

I was mainly focused on love, so I created little tarot cards with small details about love on them, and I would use these on my friends just for a bit of fun.

Eventually these got taken away from me, so just after my 16th birthday, after not doing tarot for around 3 months at that time, I decided to buy my first tarot deck as I was now living back with my mother, and although she was sceptical about the idea, she allowed me to have my first deck and supported my journey as I dove deeper into divination.

I practiced every so often, one time I had a crush on this guy and I wanted to know how he felt about me, every spread I got for him would give me the 4 of cups… yeah, I used to think that meant he was just a little demotivated, until I realised like a year later that it meant he was absolutely not interested in me, lmao!

But this is good, learning always comes with mistakes, so do not let that discourage you.

My decks

- the Rider-Waite tarot (my main deck)

- Spirit song tarot (my favourite deck)

- (I had a purple one that I spiritually didn’t need, so it went missing and never returned like a week after I got it)

- Ethereal visions tarot

- The nightmare before christmas tarot

- Angels of abundance oracle

- Casanova tarot (for 18+)

I also use little pieces of paper that I wrote 18+ stuff on, which I now use for any explicit readings to highlight the things someone would do to my collective sexually!

Having multiple decks

I personally love having this many decks, and I 100% will be getting more, as soon as I’ve finished learning the meanings of some of the casanova tarot!

Tarot is a tool, sometimes I read explicit stuff off my main deck, and I still get very accurate messages using that, you do not need to splash out on extra decks to try and read one specific theme.

I enjoy having multiple decks as they’re all just so beautiful, and I feel blessed to be able to have them.

Having one of my decks fall off the face of the earth a year and a half ago, proved to me that I needed to really make sure that I wanted a deck and felt connected to it before buying. This deck itself was 1 actually instinctively didn’t want to buy, but went back to get for other reasons.

So don’t impulsively buy, if it’s meant for you, you’ll know.

How I do my readings

If I decide that I need to cleanse my own energy, I will do a 15-30 minute meditation, but I normally only feel called to do so when I’m doing a really intense reading that I feel I need to protect my energy from.

I start off with a simple affirmation, welcome my spirits to help guide me through the session.

“I am calling upon my ancestors and spirit guides to make sure I am protected during this reading, and that I get the most accurate and concise messages.”

Then I knock on the deck twice before doing 1 shuffle thrice, knocking twice and doing the final shuffle thrice, knocking twice.

That is my own personal way of cleansing my deck after other energies have been channelled through it. I let my decks rest with some crystals every night, and they see the moon when it’s full for an extra cleanse.

I personally find the knocking to be very simple and cleansing for my cards, and it has proved well.

After I’m done cleaning, I ask my spirits the question out loud, and then I knock twice before shuffling to get the spread.

I only take 1-2 cards at a time, if there’s more, I put them back and start shuffling again.

If no cards fall after a while, I do a final shuffle and pull from the top.

The spread varies for every reading, normally I pull around 15 cards from my main deck, and then I pull an animal from the Spirit song tarot deck, and sometimes around 12 from another deck if there’s anymore questions needing to be answered.

When reading for other people, I personally only pull upright, unless we’re doing yes or no questions (which I do upright for yes and reverse for no), I’m not a fan for reverses, although I’ve started off with them, I just find it easier to do only uprights.

I pull reverses for educational purposes when I do my own readings, that way I can make sure I learn them more than I already do, and so I can get quicker with identifying them.

As of the beginning of April 2024 I started a new spread, this is my new favourite one for mainly advice readings or something to do with the future.

I like to grab 16 cards, you can take 15, but 16 is my personal number, then I line all the cards up into 3 groups, until I pin the negative cards, this is just something I do instinctively (doesn’t have to be death, tower etc, it could literally be the 2 of cups which seems negative in the reading), on the left I set up the negative ones, and then I add a present feeling or reaction card to do with these negative things, then between the negative and feelings, I put a card to describe why the person feels like that. Then for the rest I basically branch down like the roots of a tree, it’s very sporadic and random, but it creates a story, whichever card is next to another relates to the situation, thoughts and feelings of those cards, then when you get to the right bottom side, you end up with the future energy.

LEFT —> past MIDDLE —> present RIGHT —> future

Random things that I believe in

- The star and the 4 of cups are connected, the 4 of cups represents being fussy and ungrateful, and in the the Rider-Waite tarot, the illustrations are all connected, the star happens in front of the tree which is where the 4 of cups is set, so I like to think that the star is letting go of fussiness and allowing yourself to be free.

- Death and moon are connected, death tends to talk about something you need to let go of, and you already intuitively know about it. This is since death happens in front of the moon.

- The temperance happens in front of the tower, so when you pull the temperance, it means to make a decision before the universe makes it for you, bringing you a tower moment. A good example for this is pulling it in a “how does he feel about me” reading, if you get the tower during this, I would say he feels like you’re his last option, like a plan B if his A falls through. (People hate when I tell them that.)

- The queen of cups represents stability, this is since in the the Rider-Waite tarot, she’s chilling on her throne on a small island, meanwhile the king of cups is floating in the water, showing to me that he’s just going with the flow (weirdly, when I see the king of cups, I associate him with Aquarius energy.)

- The empress is all about loud and proud energy, she’s totally the one to boast about her achievements and what she’s working on, knowing that she will succeed. The emperor is the opposite, he works in silence, he only tells everyone about his newest achievements after he’s sure about them, he likes for people to be in surprise over his success.

- If I pull some cards to check energy for the reading, and the emperor upright, or the empress in reverse comes out, probably means the person I’m reading for isn’t ready to hear this message. This is because the emperor is physical (3D) realm energy, meanwhile the empress is spiritual (4D) energy, this is because spirituality is feminine energy, if you take part in spirituality, you are tapping into your devine feminine.

- The knight of wands represents exes. The night is going to the left (the past), the wand represents fire, fiery passion/fiery ending.

Does this mean my spread may be explained differently if the illustrations are different?

In short, yes. I love symbolism with my whole heart, so when I can make something symbolic out of the illustrations on the deck to describe a reading, I absolutely will.

What does channelling and visualising look like for me?

On a good day, I’ll hear another voice that sound identical to my little internal narrator inside my head, this can be identified as my spirit guides. They will use this to tell me things I need to know, but clairvoyance isn’t really my strongest, so normally I just hear the word “catapult” over and over again, since my main spirit guide seems to love that word.

I honestly channel the most through writing, it’s like I gain so much more information when I start writing down readings, whether it’s in my notes, on tumblr, or in a notepad.

Visualising is interesting, again back with the symbolism, it comes to me in a little story for me to unfold and find a moral of, it’s very time consuming, and I often get confused and think I’m insane, so I’ll pull some cards on it just to be sure I have the story right.

Important notes

- communicate to your spirit guides, I like to tell them exactly how the reading is going to go, just so they understand the format and what, I am looking for.

- Don’t do readings when you don’t feel like you should, if you’re mentally not doing ok, don’t feel bad if you need to step back and away from it, forcing yourself will just give you confusing readings.

- Your spirits hide answers from you, one time I asked my spirit guides how life works, and they refused to tell me (and then had a silly moment and told me like 3 months later for whatever reason.)

- This is not future telling, I cannot tell you what your future will be like, but I can tell you what it might be like if you make certain decisions.

- Don’t use tarot to intrude on someone’s personal life, like no sex readings on your ex for the love of God.

- If a reading doesn’t resonate with you, remember what it said and then come back to it to see if it does now, an example of this was when someone gave me a past life reading that didn’t match up until I reversed it and realised that I was the second person in the reading, rather than the main.

- Have fun with readings, it shouldn’t feel like a chore.

- Allow yourself to make mistakes, that’s the only way you will improve.

- Be patient, don’t think you will know everything about tarot after like 1 week of learning it.

- There’s always more to learn when it comes to tarot, you will never have enough knowledge.

- You can buy yourself decks, even your first one. You don’t need to have another person buy it for you.

I hope you enjoyed this! It took me an hour to write up lmao, but I had fun.

#pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards

[serxinns]

Yandere mha x Svarlet reader Extra 1: Hot springs

The reader is gender neutral use they/them pronouns

(the reason why they're going to the girl side of the hot springs is because they didn't wanted to be by mineta and you don't wanna be with a lot of people rn)

A/N: so I've been reading @demonlamb666 Class 1a reaction to mineta climbing the bath to see you and the girls naked bodies and I was like "Man I wish they could make a extended version of this" and I realized "If nobody's doing it Fine ill do it!" so here you go!

This Fic was inspired by the dabble by demonlamb666 if you wanna go on her og then go to here

The class cheered as Aizawa announced that there would be a hot spring to relax in You however didn't you just want to have a summer break and play with your game device all day and laze away luck isn't on your side today now is it

Cmon y/n join our side it'll be fine," Hakagure said while waving her arms around "I don't know guys I don't like the hot springs very much and I'm gonna see y'all naked..." you muttered the last part out in discomfort while clutching your towel but tsu put a comforting hand on your shoulder "we trust you y/n we know your not gonna do anything *kero*""Yea! You not like that disgusting perv like Mineta ur the total opposite!" ochako said the other girls chimed in encouraging you saying it was fun until you made up your mind "Fine fine! I'll join but only for a little the girls cheered and praise you for your braveness

They decided to let you go in 1st so they wouldn't see you and then they decided to go in as well "See isn't it nice y/n" Momo said while giving you a hug "Y/n San feels so warm~" momo thought in her head as the other girls glared jealousy her

the girls and you chatted along while at times splashing each other and giggling at each other's jokes mina brought each ball and decided to play ball-related games like a hot potato, keep the ball in the air, or even volley ball the girls had a little fight over who gets to be in your team but other then that it's been fun unaware that a purple cockroa- I mean teenager plotting a plan

"What I'm here for is beyond the wall," mineta said while holding his towel he then pressed his head up against the wall with a satisfying smile hearing you and the girls chatting and giggling the boys were now focusing on Mineta now confused about what he was gonna do "nowadays, for them not to stranger bathing times for men and women is an accident" mineta continued his speech while the boys were slowly starting to know he was doing "Dont tell me you're.." denki said with a glare while tenya standard up lecturing mineta not to do what he's about to do while Mineta eyes rolling back rolling as he eagerly listen to the other size of the wall (EW EW EWWWW 🤢)

"You're being too fussy" mineta said while reaching for his hair taking a ball out "cause walls.. ARE MEANT RO BE CLIMBED OVER PLUS ULTRA"

And chaos exploded over

"mineta stop what your doing it's wrong!" zuku pleaded while holding him by the ankles "YOU FUCKING BASTARD WHEN I REACH UP TO YOU UR DEAD" katsuki threaten while Shoto created a nice step to help Katsuki get higher Meanwhile Kiri and Denki was fantasizing about what would your body would look like while getting turned on about it while kiri was waiting for katsuki to jump Sero was aiming tape to trying to tie down the grape boy

"What's going on?!" y/n said while hearing the commotion at the other side of the wall "MINETAS TRYING TO CLIMB OVER THE WALL JIROU MOMO COVER Y/N" Shoto yelled while trying to keep Katsuki steady Momo and jirou quickly wrapped you up in their arms while also blushing at the fact that they're touching your warm s/c skin Making the most of it "LET ME GO IM GONNA TOUCH HIM NOT TO MESS WITH OUR LIGHT" black shadow yelled out while trying to come at mineta but tokoyami was holding him back trying to calm him down "DARK SHADOW NO!" As much tokoyami wanted him to do it but he didn't want him to be responsible for him he's focusing on you being safe and sound "LADIES PROTECT Y/N's HONOUR"

"OH IT ON" Mina yelled determined to beat Minets down for your honor, Ochako and Mina nodded to themselves, and while Mina Jumped in the air she slapped ochakos hand to make her float to the top of the wall to drop kick Mineta You stared at the chaos that was in front of you the yelling the screaming honestly it was pretty hilarious to you and you wanted to join in beating Mineta's ass cause why not you wrested out the grip of momo and Jirou and use your telekenies to make yourself float, tsuyu to tried to grab you by using her tongue but you dodge you went and grabbed mina's hand floating her up with you when Mineta made it to the top you both dropped kick him so hard he lost his balance and fell right on top of iida

(Poor boy having a image of that 😅)

Safe to say you were praised for your dangerous but badass stunt the girls were all over how amazing that love was and Mina even suggested you be her training partner even iida praised you but still lectured how unsafe that stunt was for the boys (including Bakugo) was shouting how compliments of how badass or manly it was even Aizawa heard about it and praise you for it and also gave mineta 48-hour detection and gave you extra credit all the teachers heard and gave u praises as well and hawks gave you a high five for it they're never living this memory down

Also, the class planned to pay Mineta a visit when they got back to the UA dorms

#yandere bnha #yandere class 1a #yandere ua #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #extras

[total-drama-brainrot]

TD World Tour AU, where Noah doesn't tell Owen that Alejandro is an eel in London... In Area 51, Noah is accidentally splashed with an alien truth potion (which wears off after a few days) and he talks to Owen... Owen asks Noah what he truly thinks about Alejandro, and Truth-Potion Affected Noah says this: "I have mixed feelings for Alejandro. He's a brilliant, interesting guy and I like him, but I don't trust him. He's like a slippery eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. Basically, Heather with social skills. Wait a minute, why am I telling you this?!"... What if Alejandro secretly heard Noah call him all those conflicting things + Alejandro also learns that Noah is affected with an alien truth potion? 👽

Alright, you got me. I'm an absolute sucker for truth potion plots, especially when the character(s) effected by them are usually either pathological liars or incredibly secretive- of which Noah absolutely falls into the second category, given he shares so little personal information.

I'll gloss over why Noah declined to shit-talk Alejandro in London (though there's so many ways this change in behaviour could be justified) since the focal point of this hypothetical centred around their time in Nevada, so let's start from the beginning of the Area 51 challenge.

Area 51:

Before we start, it'll have to be established that no one was eliminated in London. Let's say that the majority vote went towards Duncan (team CIRRRRH voted him out immediately because they found his re-admission to the competition unfair, I guess. I imagine he'd also vote himself, if not as a plan to escape the competition he'd been actively skiving from, then just as an act of spite) but Chris instead claimed it was a rewards challenge- much like he does in Greece- because he doesn't want to let Duncan slip away again so soon.

I see no reason to alter the first part of the challenge- the sneaking into Area 51 portion- since team CIRRRRH's course of entry is fairly straightforward. Noah's presence doesn't make much of a difference to how it would play out; the majority of them throw their rocks and run, Owen gets lasered over the fence and Owen-napped, ect ect.

When both teams have managed to make their way into the Black Box Warehouse, Noah immediately suggests they should prioritise rescuing Owen. Tyler's quick to agree, since he's a firm believer in the "no man left behind" mentality (and he probably makes a not-so-subtle jab towards Noah for his chance of tune compared to London, where both he and Owen did leave Tyler behind) leaving Duncan and Alejandro to split from the group- Duncan in search of Gwen, and Alejandro just takes the opportunity to finally be free from his 'incompetent teammates' and prioritises finding an artifact.

Noah and Tyler come across the contraption Owen's trapped in, Tyler punches it in a futile effort to break it open, and the face hugger cube drops into Noah's hands. This is where the point of divergence comes into play; Tyler has his E.T. moment with one of the face huggers, but Noah- who's a tad bit more observant than Alejandro, and used to dodging surprise attacks from his various older siblings (and Izzy)- anticipates his own face hugger attack and promptly starts a game of cat-and-mouse with a taser alien hot on his heels.

The commotion of which attracts the rest of his team. Alejandro and Duncan arrive on the scene to see Tyler being electrocuted by an alien and Noah running in circles evading another.

Duncan attempts to rip the face hugger from Tyler's face, finding success at the cost of sending Tyler trampling into Owen's captive contraption (essentially taking Alejandro's canonical place in this scene) and inadvertently freeing Owen.

Meanwhile, Alejandro swipes up the nearest box he can find and snags the alien chasing Noah, who's still very loudly panicking as he flees, and succeeds! The alien is swiftly captured into the box, netting team CIRRRRH their artifact, and Noah promptly goes careening into the nearest tower of junk in his face hugger-fuelled hysteria. This causes another box to topple from the peak of the tower, landing directly on Noah's head and spilling its contents onto the bookworm- glass vials filled with a mysterious, luminescent cobalt blue liquid shatter into pieces drenching Noah in whatever they contained. (i.e. truth potion.)

Owen has his false-amnesia moment, characterised by his Joker makeover, and Alejandro enacts his revenge post-hypnotic suggestion after being addressed as "Al" one too many times.

Noah, understandably, swiftly objects to Owen's treatment and demands that Alejandro snap him out of it. Alejandro concedes, and Owen's brought back to himself. At least, for a moment, before the fatigue of having his mind messed with sends Owen into near-catatonia (the same as canon), meaning he has to be ferried through the Warehouse and back to the Jet by Alejandro and Duncan.

Things carry on canonically from there; Noah's just sort of there for the most part, though there'd be a minor hint to his newfound proclivity for honesty. Something along the lines of him giving an uncharacteristically honest answer to Owen as to who he's voting- Tyler, of course, since he was the one who ultimately threw the challenge for them... and also because Tyler still holds some resentment towards Noah for what happened in London, and Noah feels guilty about it every time he looks at the jock. Wait, why did he say that?

Sometime between this and the elimination scene, Noah wipes the truth-goop off of himself, but not before the effects have already started.

Tyler's voted out, yada yada yada.

The Jet:

Thus begins the start of "Picnic at Hanging Dork". Team CIRRRRH, consisting of just Alejandro, Duncan, Owen and Noah, are slumming it up in the Economy Cabin. Alejandro tries to rally his team by asking how to break apart Courtney and Heather's tentative co-operation. Owen suggests having Alejandro seduce Heather, since it worked for both Bridgette and Leshawna. Duncan makes his "Babe Olympics" comment. Noah pipes up that playing with someone's feelings is pretty scummy, even for someone competing for a million dollars.

Alejandro takes Noah's reluctance towards his methodology poorly; he hadn't spoken up before, when Alejandro had utilized the same strategy against other girls- and even Owen noticed that, so surely Noah did too- so why was he to outwardly against him using the same tricks? Duncan agrees, and offers ''his'' idea of having Alejandro flirt with Courtney to throw both her and Heather off their games (since Heather has an obvious crush on Alejandro), and things follow canon.

Then, the scene between Alejandro and Courtney happens. Noah scoffs at the display from the side lines, prompting Owen to ask him why he's so against Alejandro's plan.

"I mean, you never said anything before, when he flirted with Bridgette and Leshawna." Owen comments, light-hearted in nature but with an underlying questioning tone.

Noah's eyes flicker with a cobalt glow, easily mistaken for a trick of the light, and he speaks without even thinking.

"Yeah, because I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Bridgette was happenstance, and Leshawna's whole deal could've been a coincidence, or some massive misunderstanding. But this?" Noah extends an accusing hand out towards a smug looking Alejandro, then pans it over to a flattered Courtney, "He's outright toying with Courtney's feelings after she was cheated on in front of an international audience. It's scummy."

Owen nods in understanding, momentary contemplation evident in the pouted curve of his lips, and he chimes in.

"Does that mean you don't like Al?"

"I never said that."

"Well, how do you feel about him, then?"

Again, a flash of blue light against the hickory backdrop of Noah's eyes, and he responds thoughtlessly.

"I guess I have mixed feelings about him. On the one hand, he's slippery, like an eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. He's like if you took all of the worst aspects of Heather, wrapped them up in a pretty package, and gave them social skills..." He holds his hands out before him in a scale-like manner, with the left tipped downwards and tie right raised by his chin. Then, the two hands swap positions.

"And on the other hand, he's brilliant. I've never met anyone as talented as Alejandro; he's smart, he's athletic, he's funny. It's almost unfair just how perfect everything about him is- even his face is perfect. It's ridiculous! Infuriating, even. It's so hard to dislike him, even when I know he's bad news, but that doesn't mean I trust him."

Owen stands slack jawed beside his best friend, both impressed and stunned at the raw honesty of Noah's tirade. Noah, now a little more aware of himself, realises that he's said more than he intended to- more than he thinks he's ever spoken in one go throughout the entirety of Total Drama. He's not usually one for speeches, after all, let alone honest ones.

He's always been the type to play his cards close to his chest, so why...?

"I, uh, didn't mean to go off like that."

And he also didn't mean to admit it, either. What was going on?

The look Owen gives him is, in a word, vivid. The blonde has a shit-eating grin stretching across his face, a sort of elated smugness practically glowing from his features.

"Sounds like someone has a cruuuush!~"

What? No? No! Not at all, where would Owen even get that idea?!

Noah splutters to correct Owen's assumption (to disastrous results, because he does sort-of has a crush on Alejandro, so the truth potion doesn't allow him to outright deny it), and in his preoccupied state he misses how a calculating pair of sage green eyes never seems to stray from him.

Alejandro has a lot to think about in regards to a certain cynic, it seems.

#I'd like to apologise for taking this idea and running with it. #Cutting myself off here before I breach 2k+ words or else I'll be here all day. #Sort of entered actual Writing Mode at the end there instead of Outline Mode but this idea is. So Full Of Potential I couldn't help myself. #But from here it'd basically be Alejandro using his newfound knowledge of Noah's crush on him to his advantage. #Whilst Noah's doing his best (and failing) to deny that he has any feelings for Alejandro. #Eventually leading to the two of them having a Bonding Moment where Alejandro gets Noah to divulge some personal information. #And in turn- or an effort to garner some trust (to be abused later)- Alejandro also lets himself be vulnerable towards Noah. #Something something Alejandro tries to use Noah as a pawn but ends up catching feelings of his own. #Then of course the potion wears off and Noah goes back to being just as prickly and standoffish as he was before. #A point of conflict maybe? Imagine bearing your soul out to someone only for them to close themself off to you not even days afterwards. #...Also imagine being practically forced to divulge information about yourself to someone you don't trust because of a truth potion. #Oh yeah. That's some good angst material right there. #Especially is you have Alejandro be- if not fully aware- than at least suspect that Noah's not being agreeable on his own terms. #Anon why have you given me The Thoughts?? I can't keep brainstorming AUs when I already have fics to work on!! #ophe's ranting in the tags again #total drama #td noah #td alejandro #team chris is really really really really hot #alenoah #-ish #silly ideas #other's ideas #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)