#parents straight up told her I don’t like eggs and when I walked out to the living room. she asked me if I liked something with eggs in it

[valeskafics]

"Lights, Camera, Action!" (Part 2 of 4) - Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader - Modern AU

a/n: part 1 HERE. based on a request from @aaaaaamond (and yep it's a mini series rip), comment if you wish to be tagged! egg will be featured in the next part hehe

Summary: Aegon hires you to work on another film with Aemond.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, s*x work/adult film industry, role play, brat taming, spanking, overstim/edging, f*ngering, oral f receiving, p in v s*x, aemond being un unprofessional bitch, tiddy succin, creampie

Word Count: 2,454 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

When you get the call from Aegon about filming a principal and schoolgirl detention scene with Aemond, it’s hard to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of working with the two handsome brothers again. You tell Aegon that you’d love to work with them again and you’re all in, much to his delight. 

You walk into “detention”, a lollipop in your mouth to complete the look as you turn to Aemond, giving him your best innocent smile, “Hello, Principal Aemond.”

Aemond nods at you, biting back a smirk, “Hello, sweetheart. Do you know why you’re here today?” when you shake your head, Aemond continues, “You were called in because I heard you’ve been breaking the rules.”

His eye is drawn to your cleavage as you speak, with that girlish lilt, “I have no idea why I’m here, sir.”

Well, that goes straight to his cock.

He chuckles, crossing his legs, “Don’t play innocent, little girl. I won’t be fooled. Now, this is about your English class. Can you tell me why I’m asking you about that?” Aemond questions in a condescending tone that manages to send a thrill up your spine.

“Was it because I let the teacher eat my pussy?” you ask, feigning innocence.

Aemond raises a brow, enjoying the direction you’ve taken this, placing his hands together on the desk as he stares at you, “What would your parents say if I told him about what I just heard you say?”

You shift your weight from foot to foot in a mock display of humility and shyness, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, “Well, you can be my daddy, sir.”

Fuck, there you go again. His eye travels along your legs, up to your thighs which looking fucking irresistible in that skirt.

“He said he wanted to taste me so I said okay. Was I not supposed to?” you question, pouting at him adorably.

“My, my, my, you really are quite a naughty girl,” Aemond hums, palming himself over the fabric of his trousers, watching as you continue sucking on that fucking lollipop, thinking to himself that he’s going to replace that with his cock.

You look at him, lashes fluttering, “What do I need to do for detention, sir? Where do I sit?”

“You’re going to sit right on my lap, sweetheart.”

You saunter over to him, happily moving to take a seat on his lap, your back to him as you straddle one of his thighs. You shift your skirt slightly, making it glaringly obvious to Aemond that you’ve foregone wearing any underwear. He licks his lips at the sight of your bare ass against his trousers, smirking as you squirm against him. He moves his hands to your ass, squeezing your plump, supple flesh, letting out a low groan as he moves to caress your inner thighs.

You lean back against him and pout, spreading your legs slightly, “It feels funny between my legs, sir,” you say with fake innocence.

Aemond lets out a low groan, moving your legs so that they’re draped on either side of his, exposing your bare pussy to the camera. He licks his lips and speaks after another moment of brushing his fingers along your thighs.

“Show me where that funny feeling is, little one.”

You nod innocently, taking Aemond’s hand and bringing it to the apex between your thighs, making him smirk, growing even harder as your round little ass moves against him. He teases your core with his fingers, stroking you with featherlight touches, asking if that helps the “funny feeling”. You give him a sweet little nod, throwing your head back against his chest when he pushes two fingers inside you. You feel so warm and wet around his fingers, he can hardly keep from imagining how your tight little pussy will feel stretched out on his cock again as he begins moving his fingers in a hooked motion, pushing them in and out of you, rubbing against that spongy spot deep inside you that has you mewling like a little kitten, grasping at his hair, your thighs trembling.

“Does that feel good, princess?” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your neck, biting down on your neck, making you whine slightly.

“Feels good, sir,” you coo, bucking your hips up against his hand in time with the movements of his fingers, chasing your high as the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter until you’re finally spilling yourself all over his fingers.

It’s such an intense climax that you think you might have blacked out for a moment. You’re surprised when Aemond has to tell you in a soft, soothing voice that Aegon called cut, asking if you’re okay.

“She fucking squirted, that was the money shot,” Aegon says almost giddily as he grins at you, “Fuck, that was hot-”

“Did I really?” you ask curiously, moving to stand up and get off Aemond’s lap.

He almost whines at the loss of contact as you walk toward the craft services table and grab yourself a drink of water with shaky hands. Aegon suggests you head to your trailer and take five since you seem a bit out of it. You nod, walking on unsteady legs back to your trailer, thinking to yourself the whole time how fucking good Aemond made you feel. Granted, you haven’t had a ton of sexual partners despite being in the adult film industry, but there’s something about him that unlocks the most feral, basest desires you have.

You return and start filming the next scene, noting that Aemond is quite excited for whatever comes next, judging by the tent in his pants as he commands, “Naughty little girl, why don’t you turn around and we can keep fixing that funny feeling of yours, hm, princess?”

You nod and move to sit on the desk, giving the camera a coy little smile as you spread your legs. Aegon barely manages to hold himself back and continues his directorial work, but that doesn’t preclude him from enjoying the view. Aemond stares at you with what can only be described as ravenous hunger as you “accidentally” pop open one button after the other on the flimsy little article of clothing you call a shirt.

“Oops,” you give him a cute little smile.

Aemond all but lunges forward, his hands cupping your tits as he pushes you down onto the desk, squeezing your breasts in his large hands. You let out a little whine as he pinches at your nipples, admiring the quirk of his lips as he feels them pebble under his touch. His mouth descends on your tits, suckling at one nipple, moving his tongue over your skin. Aemond leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach before he moves to nip at the flesh of your inner thigh, causing you to cry out.

“You should have come to me before you let your teacher touch you, princess,” he scolds.

“Did you want to taste me, sir?” you grin playfully, biting your lower lip.

“I did and I still want to,” he chuckles, pushing your thighs apart, admiring the sight of you spread out for him, “I bet you taste so sweet.”

And with that, he buries his face between your legs. Aemond lets out a low groan at the feeling of finally being able to taste your sweet little cunt, his tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. You can hardly keep from squirming away from him, from trying to close your legs, but his iron grip on your thighs, holding them down and apart keeps you in place as he rubs his nose against your clit, his tongue moving in and out of you. And gods, the sounds he’s making, every little moan he lets out as he tastes you drives you crazy.

“Daddy,” you whine, bucking your hips, “Feels so good…”

Aegon has the camera zoom in on the way your chest heaves at Aemond’s ministrations before focusing again on the way his tongue works against you. Aemond decides to play it up for the camera, moaning even louder, making the most obscene slurping noises as he moves his tongue against you, grinning when you reach your peak against him.

But he’s nowhere near finished. Aemond moves to focus on your clit, alternating between flattening his tongue against it and suckling at it, making you plead for him to stop.

“Daddy, it’s too much,” you cry, your hands moving to your tits, squeezing them, desperate to find some form of purchase.

Aemond pulls back slightly, smirking at you, “You want more. I know you do.”

After he’s made you come not one, but two more times, Aegon calls cut again. You sit up, breathless, your hair a bit disheveled, while Aemond sits there in a daze, both of you feeling a bit caught up in the intensity of the scene.

“You’re a natural, baby,” Aegon says, handing you a robe, admiring you, “That was perfect, just one more scene left.”

You smile, heading back to the trailer again, thinking to yourself that Aemond is ridiculously good at what he does. Aemond watches you leave, the effortless sway of your hips, your tousled hair, and can’t wait to make you come undone on his cock again. He buries his head in his hands, trying to calm down, the sounds of your moans echoing in both his and Aegon’s minds.

“How was it?” the elder Targaryen asks, taking a seat beside his brother, nudging his shoulder.

Aemond looks at his brother and smiles slightly, “It was amazing. She’s amazing.”

Aegon snorts, “Yeah, I bet. You ate that pussy like it was your last meal.”

Aemond shakes his head but laughs at his brother’s words, “Might as well admit. She’s addictive.”

“Oh, I almost forgot to ask,” Aegon gestures to his chest, “Are the jubblies fake or real?”

Aemond gives his brother an unimpressed look, “Please don’t call them that, you sound like Austin Powers. But to answer your question,” he leans in and mutters, “Natural.”

Aegon groans, covering his mouth, grinning, “Fuck. I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

You return a short while later, asking what the next scene is. Aegon gives you a quick grin and steps away from the rest of the crew, finishing fixing the lighting. He runs down the next scene with you and Aemond, telling you that the “principal” is going to bend the “schoolgirl” over his desk and finish the punishment. The idea is way more appealing to you than it has any right to be, and you move to get into position. You raise your skirt slightly, bending over the desk, waiting for Aemond to come stand behind you, which he eagerly does.

Aemond can’t stop thinking about fucking you like this, you being so pliant and soft beneath him. When Aegon calls “action”, he lands a hard slap against your ass, something that seems to have become a favorite pastime of his when it comes to you, admiring how your flesh shakes at the impact, how soft it is against his hand.

You rub your thighs together, desperate for friction, and pout, “Daddy, please, punish me with your cock-”

He lands another spank, cutting you off, smirking to himself, “Keep begging, princess. Daddy loves it when you beg.”

He tortures you like this a while longer, making you plead for him to just fuck you already. You whimper as you hear the sound of him undoing his belt, undoing his trousers. You turn your face so that your cheek lays against the cool wood of the desk, moaning as Aemond runs the tip of his cock along your pussy, smearing his precum against you before sheathing himself inside of you.

You let out the most wanton mewl you’ve ever given in your life as he grabs your hips and begins pounding into you. Aemond is obsessed with the way your pussy clenches around him, how perfectly you squeeze him like a fucking vice, the noises you make, the way you beg him to go harder, faster. You’re so fucking perfect, and you’re so responsive to his touch.

“Gonna beat this little pussy up, sweetheart,” he snarls in your ear, slamming into you over and over, his cock bullying against your sweet spot with every thrust, driving you wild with desire.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your climax, you cunt squeezing him so tight that he feels as though he can hardly move. He turns you onto your back, one hand reaching for your throat while the other rubs at your clit as he continues fucking you, staring into your eyes as he does. Aemond watches the way your lips part, the way you nearly gasp for breath as he squeezes your throat.

���Daddy,” you cry out, “I’m so close…”

“Come for me,” he growls, “Soak my cock, princess, come on.”

And what choice do you have but to do as he asks? Aemond remembers in your contract that he went over with Aegon that you wrote you’re clean and have an IUD, so you don’t mind him cumming inside you, so he does that quite happily, admiring the way you look with his cum leaking out of you. One last closeup on that, and Aegon calls a wrap.

Everyone claps for the two of you, making you smile at Aemond, feeling pretty pleased with yourself.

“You guys work well together,” Aegon says, tossing an arm around both of you, “We should just put you on our payroll, baby, that was fantastic.”

“Thanks,” you grin before glancing at Aemond, “Doesn’t hurt to have a good costar.”

Aemond watches as you head off to your trailer to change and go home. He waits outside of it for you to come out and you’re mildly surprised by his presence

“Hey,” you smile, “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to, um, see if you wanted to hang out?”

“Remember what I said last time?” you laugh softly, “I don’t date coworkers, Aemond.”

“Come on,” Aemond nearly whines as he follows after you like a lost puppy to the exit of the studio, “We’re clearly attracted to each other. Let’s not waste time with silly rules here-”

“Not silly rules,” you correct, “My rules. See you later.”

Aemond watches you get into your Uber, sighing to himself as your car fades from view.

“At least I can dream of you later, you little tease,” he chuckles to himself as he re-enters the studio to watch Aegon edit.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #my writing #aegon targaryen ii #lights camera action fic

[ohtobealady]

hi there! i’m a huge fan of your writing. you capture characterizations so well and it makes everything you do such a joy to read. i was wondering if you’d be interested in writing something post DA2 which takes place after cora has started treatments and robert notices her improving? or something of the like?

Oh 💞 thank you!! That means so much to me, Anonny! Sorry I’m just responding. (I am only now noticing some of the asks in my inbox.) Hopefully you like this little Drabble. It isn’t very long, and it’s rather unedited, but all the same it was fun to write. It’s such a cute, happy little prompt.

———————

She tipped her head at her father’s suggestion, that she drop in on Mr Mason to have him sign the final paperwork for turnover of the lease, and she took up her coffee cup and hummed.

“You’re probably right. Best to get it sorted at last.” It had been nearly two months since he’d moved out, but the process was far longer than Mary had realized. “If anyone had told me that being the agent was mostly paperwork, I’d never have believed him.”

Her papa chuckled. “Paperwork and worry.”

She chuckled, too. He was right again.

“What’s worrying?”

They both looked up at her mother’s entrance, sunny and bright, and Mary met Papa’s eye. He smiled.

“Nothing, Mama. Only my job.” She brought her coffee cup again to her lips, realized it was near empty, and walked to the coffee service to pour another cup. Mama’s presence had not been expected, and the cream was near empty. She could hear Mama’s scrape of the spoon in the egg dish, and Mary turned to Carson as she left the coffee service, eyeing her mother. “Carson? May we please have some more cream? I don’t believe Her Ladyship has had any.”

He nodded a small, “Of course, my lady,” and passing by her mother as she sat, took the service down for more.

Mary noticed Papa furrow his brow at her mother. “What are you doing down anyway? I thought I left you sleeping.”

“You did. But I have an early board meeting. We’re approving budgets today.”

“You were there only yesterday.”

Mary rolled her eyes. Papa had been battling Mama’s workload since she took ill, though it was apparent to everyone she felt much better. Her color, her energy, her good humor had all returned, even if Papa could not see it. She stood again with her plate. More eggs.

“It shouldn’t take long. A few hours at most,” she could hear her mother saying. Mary took the tongs up for more sausages.

Papa’s voice was lower behind her, rumbling a little into his cup. “All the same, I would’ve thought you’d be asleep until noon at least.”

“Oh? Why?”

Mary did not see what transpired, did not hear her father’s response, only her mother’s quick scolding, “Robert, honestly!” And then their small laughter.

Mary turned and watched them, though cautiously. Her father’s cheeks unmistakably pinked and rosy. Her mother pushing down an equally unmistakable smile into a straight line but having little success. When their eyes met, there was another little giggle.

Mary cleared her throat and sat across from her mother. “I feel I’ve missed the joke, though I’m not sure I want any explanation.” She quirked her brow, unable to look at her parents, as she let her napkin fall back into her lap.

Her parents didn’t respond, and Mary didn’t ask them to. She kept her eyes on her plate, cutting her sausage, and let them think that she did not notice the way her father reached for her mother’s hand — for only a fraction of a moment — before Carson entered again with the coffee.

“Ah,” she smiled. “Thank you, Carson. Mama?”

Her mother looked across at her, and Mary could see the glow, the glow that had been missing for weeks and weeks, the glow that often accompanied every memory of her mother in Mary’s mind — it had returned.

“I’m sure you’ll need some coffee for a budget meeting. Sounds dreadful.”

“Oh,” her mother’s head tilted a bit, “I probably do. Though they aren’t too bad, really. I don’t mind numbers.” She stood and Mary watched the back of her mother as she poured her coffee. She watched the little way her earrings dangled. She watched the way her black chiffon blouse moved as she angled her arm.

And then Mary looked at Papa. He watched her mother, too, smiling. And just as Mary had suspected, his glow had returned as well.

#cobert drabbles #short and sweet #hope you like it #:)

[sergeantsporks]

Okay, so, while I was looking for a quote for my art, I was looking for a very specific tale from a Grimm’s Fairy Tale treasury that I have. That story is called “Fitch’s Bird” (technically, in my treasury, it’s called “Fowler’s Fowl,” but I prefer “Fitch’s Bird). I couldn’t remember the title of the story, but I was pretty sure it was “Bluebeard,” because Bluebeard also, notably, featured a guy who killed his wives and had their hacked up bodies in his basement after they opened a room he told them to leave closed. Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm took a LOT of inspiration (read: copy pasted in German) from Charles Perrault (the writer of Bluebeard who, in turn, mostly recorded what was already told as stories and/or got it from Italian writers).

Here’s the thing: Aside from the aforementioned wife murdering and “curiosity killed the cat,” Bluebeard and Fitch’s Bird aren’t even CLOSE to being the same story. Bluebeard is just some guy who has a magic key that won’t get clean after being dropped in the blood of the women he’s murdered. He happens to have a blue beard. The heroine of the story married him for his money, opened the door she wasn’t supposed to, dropped the key in the blood, then yelled for help, and basically just pleaded with Bluebeard and begged for her life and prayed until her brothers could arrive to kill Bluebeard and save her.

Meanwhile, in Fitch’s Bird, the Blubeard figure is a sorcerer. He straight up kidnaps the girls by pretending to be a beggar and enchanting them when they give him some bread. He tells them not to go in that room, and if they can manage that, they’ll be his wife. The sorcerer gives them an egg, which is the thing that falls in the blood instead of the key. Also, notably, the sorcerer does the fun Grimm thing where he goes through two older daughters, killing both of them before finally getting the youngest, the heroine. She safely puts her egg away, so when she opens the forbidden door, it doesn’t betray her. She puts her sisters back together, then tricks the sorcerer into carrying both her sisters and a truckload of gold to her parents. She puts a dummy of herself in the window, rolls in honey and feathers (where the bird part comes from) and just walks out of there right past the sorcerer as he comes home, then summons the town to go burn the wizard alive in his own home.

Both stories have their better parts. In Bluebeard, the heroine and the villain are both a little more morally grey. Yes, Bluebeard is murdering his wives, but at least he’s not kidnapping them first, like the sorcerer in Fitch’s Bird. He’s just Some Guy who, the story posits, is disliked apparently solely on account of his blue beard? (I’m sure there’s a euphemism or race thing in there, but I don’t know enough to say that with any factual basis). While that obviously doesn’t excuse all the wife murdering, there’s a little more nuance to his character. The heroine, for her part, married a guy solely for his money (and it turns out she and all of her friends hate this guy for his blue beard) and got in over her head.

However, Fitch’s Bird, while the lines are more strict (the girls end up in this situation through no fault of their own aside from kindness, and the sorcerer is to blame for all the bad things), the heroine has a little more agency. Instead of waiting for someone to save her and putting a kind of weird amount of focus being on how much she pleads and prays to be spared, she saves her own sisters and tricks her way out of a bad situation. To be honest, I prefer Fitch’s Bird, because it’s about a girl who ended up in a bad situation despite doing everything “right,” and then uses her own common sense and cleverness to get herself OUT of the situation, rather than the heroine of Bluebeard who put herself into the situation in the first place because she was after money, and then just kind of cried until she was rescued. Reading about the sorcerer’s death in Fitch’s Bird feels more satisfying than Bluebeard’s death to me, because he feels well and truly beat by the protagonist.

Anyway, I think the differences are interesting, especially considering that Fairy Tales as commonly spread were based on written word rather than oral tradition (oral tradition didn’t usually go far: once your local folklore got put into a storybook, though, it travel outside of the boundaries of your area), and the Grimm Brothers got a lot of their fairy stories from upper class ladies (they collected folklore as well, but most of the easily recognizable fairy tales were already written down and just retold to them). Like, the two stories are VERY different, but the base concepts are SO similar, it can’t be a coincidence. I don’t have any actual evidence for this, but I like to believe a group of young women read Blubeard and said “this is how it would go if I were the heroine. I’d get out of it myself” and that’s how we ended up with Fitch’s Bird.

#fairy tales #writing #sporks' latent fairy tale obsession has been activated. watch me reread my treasury.

[tomyo]

I’m watching love alarm and I know that kdramas and webtoons always milk drama but god this one really pisses me off with the drama milking. Like okay, her extended family is terrible and blame her for weird shit but I hate her friends. I’m four episodes in and her best friend had feelings for her boyfriend behind her back which isn’t as much of a problem as pinging his. She told said boyfriend when the mc cheated which is the right thing to do, not faulting her for that but she vindictively bullies her best friend for her own immaturity. Even then this is alright drama, they’re supposed to be emotional teens. But after all that gets relatively resolved, she tries to communicate with said friend and just gets told “I’m not mad at you, I just don’t like you.”. That is just so fucked. And then the second friend just straight up pisses off for literally no fucking reason. ~It’s a collectivist culture ~ I cannot express how much I don’t care this time. This girl was all set to join in the bullying for no stakes in the game.

Actually the extended family is fucked too. It’s cliche drama shit but there’s no way you’re walking in the door way and not only hear the screaming your daughter is doing at your niece but also not connect that your daughter was the one to throw a remote at her and not the other way around. Just also the way this cousin will just break everyone’s phones or thrash about and not face punishment is wild. Her bullying isn’t as extremely obvious but her actions would likely get her kicked out of say her dance classes.

Like admittedly they’re better than how kdramas used to be and it doesn’t take a million years for the couple not to act like they hate each other even while actively in a relationship. I like that queerness is addressed and even if it is in mainly homophobic ways and that the dynamics slightly suggest a parallel between the two main guys. But I also think of series like Odd Girl Out that address these dynamics so much more healthy (like the current arc is the mcs parents taking in the cousin that for a fact bullied their daughter because while they support their daughter first and foremost for the trauma she was put with, they recognize their teen niece was not safe left to her own needs and don’t guilt her for the uncles transgressions).

Either way it’s one of those things where I want an egg on the face moment for everyone that I know I won’t get.

#love alarm

[selfparasbym]

“Slow down you crazy child You're so ambitious for a juvenile”

Sadie was never quite patient. She was born in the middle of a snow storm in Memphis while her mother was working on her masters degree, and her father was beginning his career in the field of banking and finances. 

”I like the name Sadie,” her mother, Jocelyn finally said as they stared at the pink bundle blankets in front of the them. 

”Maybe Beth for the middle name,” Richard suggested after his favorite song by Kiss. “Sadie Beth Morgan. I like it.”  “But then if you're so smart tell me Why are you still so afraid? (mmmmm)”

When she was ten her parents had told her they were moving to Seattle; her dad was originally from London, and her mom was originally from deep in the heart of Texas, they had met when they were both doing undergrad work in Chicago, moved to Memphis for her mother’s grad work, and then had lived the last five years in Santa Fe.

Her dad had gotten a job as marketing director of a Seattle bank, which was going to be a lot of money, while her mother got a job at Seattle children’s working in the NICU doing swallow therapy. The move was one they promised was going to be permeant, but Sadie was hopeful they’d move back to Santa Fe eventually.  “Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You better cool it off before you burn it out”

But the longer they stayed in Seattle the more she realized they weren’t moving back home. By the time she was 14 she had come to find Seattle home. Her parents were very career focuses and had set up very high standards for both Sadie and her younger brother Jeremy, 

Jeremey thrived under pressure, he had straight a’ and was dedicated to playing baseball. While Sadie crumbled under any sort of pressure, and made it by with C’s. 

She and her mother clashed over everything, while she and her dad only seemed to bond over music.  “You got so much to do and only So many hours in a day (Ay) But you know that when the truth is told That you can get what you want Or you can just get old”

High school was a disaster she spent most of her time barley getting through school; half of the time she was high during class the other half she was skipping. 

Her afternoons were spent working at the local record store or shop lifting lip gloss and panties from the mall. 

Her parents begged her to find a hobby, and the only club that would take her that didn’t seem lame was photography which started her love for taking photos.  “You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through (Oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?”

Of all the places post high school she ended up in Athens, Ohio at Ohio University studying photojournalism. Halloween of her freshmen year she was at a frat party when she got a call from her mother who was screaming and crying, she slowly left the party and ended up on a flight back to Seattle. 

Her younger brother’s life at 16 quickly ended due to a drunk driver, When she returned back to college she felt like she could ignore the grief, and in her mind her little brother was still alive.. A grief she never quite coped with.  “Slow down you're doing fine You can't be everything you want to be before your time”

The four years of college flew by, and her only two jobs offers she had gotten   were taking sports photos for a conservative university, or working for Seattle Met taking photos.. She hated sports, and living by her parents again didn’t seem appealing but in the end Seattle won.  “Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (tonight) Too bad, but it's the life you lead”

”Did you get your apartment?” her co-worker Bea asked her as they walked through the building together coffee in hand. 

”I’ll be able to sign my lease next week, which thank god because I don’t want to wake up every morning to my mother doing her working yoga and talking about egg whites, while my dad is working out on the treadmill telling her the secret to health is red wine,” Sadie explained with a sigh. 

”Ironic you mentioned red wine when I think you got picked to cover a local brewery,” 

”That’s perfect I shotgunned a beer last night,” in her parents basement hiding from them because they wanted to talk about her lack of drive in life. Something she didn’t quite understand? she had a job. How was that not drive? “You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need Though you can see when you're wrong”

”So, how was the interview?” Bea asked as they both sat at their desk. Sadie picking the lettuce out of the wrap she had gotten for lunch. 

”I never quite understood why places insist on putting lettuce in wraps, nobody even likes lettuce,” she rambled on as she looked up at her co-worker. “The interview was good I got a lot of good photos.”  “You know you can't always see when you're right (you're right) You got your passion, you got your pride”

The interview ended up being more good, and the relationship formed between Daniel and Sadie ended up being something that was more than she could imagined. Every single thing seemed easy and fun.  “But don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true (Oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?”

The easy turned to fear when she got a positive pregnancy test, and her whole world was turned upside down. She didn’t quite know how to be a mother, and what if she was bad at it?

“You can no longer your beer tours with Sadie articles anymore,” Bea commented as they both stared at the pregnancy test on Sadie’s desk. Of course this series of articles was a new thing within the last year, so it wasn’t exactly a big deal in the magazine yet. “How are you going to tell Daniel?”

That was the moment her words finally started to sink in. “I don’t know. I’ve never told anyone i’m pregnant before,” nor had she ever been pregnant before. “Do I just tell him?”

“Slow down you crazy child”

All the ideas of how to tell Daniel didn’t quite seem to top the ironic baby onesie she found with a bottle of beer and a baby bottle on it that said “daddy’s drinking buddy” that, that was funny to her. 

Which was how she ended up telling Daniel leaving it for him on his desk while he was working.  “Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two (oooh)”

When Ivy was born she swore she was going to be the best possible mom to her, but then post-partum depression set in and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. And she felt like she was trapped in a cycle of never quite being enough, and she wasn’t quite herself.  “When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?”

After six months of it she left. She left to try to find herself, got a job working for a travel magazine to that allowed her to take photos of anything she wanted.

But every time she went somewhere all she could think about was Ivy and what she was doing and if she missed her. Which hurt even more when she thought about Daniel and what he might be up to. 

She often wondered if he missed her, or even thought about her.  “And you know that when the truth is told That you can get what you want or you can just get old”

The years flew by and she knew she couldn’t be away from him anymore which led him to stopping by his house knocking on the door in the middle of the night praying that it wasn’t a wife who would answer, and that he was willing to hear her out.  “When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?”

[useramor]

how about "a hug for when you're breaking down in my arms, and i wish i could take your pain away because seeing you this upset hurts so goddamn much" because i need to see eddie crack like a fucking egg

intimacy in a relationship prompts!!

thanks for sending this babesieeee i hope u like it!! i did my best okay sfkgh

wc: 2.6k

Eddie’s shaking. He hasn’t stopped shaking since he walked into Buck’s loft. Buck can practically hear his bones hitting against each other like a decorative halloween skeleton getting tossed around in the wind.

Except that Eddie is very real and cold to the touch and Buck’s looking at him right in the eyes and it’s like Eddie isn’t even looking back. Brown eyes looking straight into his own but Eddie’s somewhere else entirely.

He’s been off since his parents dropped by for a surprise visit a week ago. Since they told him he’s doing everything wrong, that Christopher’s going to grow up to resent him. That he’s too old to still be single, and needs to find a nice woman to settle down with.

It makes Buck violent. There’s no other way to describe it. Seeing Eddie broken and belittled and so heart-twisting-snapping-breakingly sad makes Buck want to tear the entire world into pieces.

And now here’s in his loft, on his couch, and he’s vibrating.

Buck’s half-worried he’s gonna vibrate right out of his skin, but he doesn’t voice that. Doesn’t voice anything, just stays quiet and waits for Eddie to say something.

Eddie mumbles something, and it’s so quiet Buck wouldn’t have noticed it at all if he hadn’t spent the past few years figuring out how to tune into the Eddie Diaz Frequency.

He doesn’t want to push, but he also can’t help if Eddie doesn’t tell him what’s wrong.

“Did you say something, Eds?” he asks. He wants to pull him for a hug. And then pull him closer until Eddie is comfortably situated in the hollow of his ribcage. He knows he has organs there. He can move them around. What good is a heart if it’s got nothing to beat for, anyways?

Eddie takes a deep breath. He looks angry at himself for how shaky the exhale comes out, so he tries again, breathing in and out until the air that comes out is steady.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he admits, looking down at his lap where his fingers are picking at a loose thread on one of Buck’s pillows.

“Eddie- Eddie, hey- hey look at me.” He grabs Eddie’s face in his hands and tilts his head up so Eddie can see him. “You are doing nothing wrong. Eddie, you’re a great man. You’re an amazing father. You’re the best fucking dad out there. Christopher is so lucky to have you, you know that. You know that. And I’ll keep telling you in case you forgot.”

Eddie’s laugh is wet and cold and self-deprecating. He rubs at his eyes with the palms of his hands, pressing them onto his eyelids hard. Maybe it’s to try and forcefully stop the tears. Maybe it’s to bruise.

Maybe it’s both.

“They’re right, though. I’m- fuck- I’m such a fucking failure. I left. I left Chris, and I left Shannon like a fucking coward. I didn’t think I’d be good enough for Chris, so I took off. Joined the army, played a hero, and came back to a wife who hated me and a son who didn’t know who I was.”

Buck stays quiet. He knows all of this, kind of. Eddie has mentioned enough things here and there— often when he was on just the wrong side of tipsy- for Buck to piece it all together.

But Eddie never talks about it, never says anything. He keeps all of his feelings packed tightly into a box. And then he put that box in a fingerprint locked safe. And then he threw the safe in the fucking ocean.

So if Eddie is willing to open up without copious amounts of alcohol, Buck is willing to listen.

“And then Shannon left. And I- I hate her for that. I hate her. I’m walking around with this hatred, and this resentment, for a dead woman, how fucking sick is that? But she- she left. And I- I don’t care that she left me. But Christopher? He woke up and his mother was gone, and-” He cuts himself off as another round of sobs try to force their way out of him.

Eddie swallows with a pained look on his face.

Buck wishes so desperately he would just let himself cry. His apartment could stand it, he’s got extra rags under the bathroom sink.

Let it out, Eddie.

Maybe Eddie is tuned into the Evan Buckley Frequency, because he steadies himself- again, but he’s shakier this time, like he’s running out of patience to pretend like whatever’s going on is okay- and keeps talking.

“And my parents blamed me for Shannon leaving. They hated her! They couldn’t fucking stand her! She’s the only person alive who was a worse parent to Christopher than I was, but when she left it was still ‘why couldn’t you make her stay, Edmundo?’ ‘what did you do to make her leave?’ I didn’t- Buck I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t- I didn’t-”

Eddie sobs. Loud and hiccuping, and he looks so angry at himself for ever feeling sad in the first place.

He stands up, running his hands through his hair until it sticks up in every direction. He paces around in the cramped area of Buck’s living room, trying to figure out what to say next.

Buck stays quiet. There’s so much he wants to say. You’re a good person, he wants to tell him. You’ve made human mistakes, and you’ve apologized and kept your word. You’ve grown. Maybe you weren’t good before, but you’re the best person I know, now, he wants to say.

But Eddie’s still going. Buck being silent, just a source to absorb information, is working for him, apparently. That, or maybe Eddie’s finally at his break point. He’s the first person Buck has ever met who’s made of elastic.

Buck’s fine china. He’s broken quite a few times, and he’ll break again. Maddie is stone, she’s sturdy, and she’s strong, but Doug had a chisel and the fucking patience to get through the marble.

But Eddie’s… he’s something else. Every time Buck thinks he’s reached his breaking point, Eddie smiles a little brighter- a little more manically- and keeps going.

Someone must’ve taken a pair of scissors, then. Torn a hole through Eddie’s resolve. Popped it like a water balloon and now there’s nothing Eddie can do but watch helplessly as the balloon deflates and soaks Buck’s living room.

“And then,” he picks up again. “My parents were so excited about Ana. They- they were thrilled that I was seeing someone. And Ana was absolutely everything my parents wanted. Everything I should want. She was good for Christopher, and I was too much of a pussy to just stick with it. I can’t- fuck- I can’t-”

Buck gets up from the couch and moves into Eddie’s space cautiously. Eddie flinches away.

“I’m going to hug you.”

Eddie shakes his head vigorously. “No, no, please I- no-”

“Eddie. I’m going to hold you. You can kick me, you can hit me, you can bite me- I don’t care. Worse things have made me bleed. Just let me, okay?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide and he doesn’t move. Buck would wait for consent before touching anyone in any other scenario, but he knows Eddie would never let himself be comforted if Buck didn’t just do it anyways.

And Buck knows him better than anyone in the world. He knows Eddie’s hurting in a way he can’t put to words, and he knows that- despite Eddie’s tough guy exterior- the man wants to be held. To be cradled. To have someone run their fingers through his hair. But he would never let himself ask for it, so Buck’s gotta just give it to him.

He steps forward again. Eddie steps back. Buck puts warm hands on his shoulders and pulls him in, wrapping his strong arms around Eddie’s frame and holding him there.

Eddie does kick. He hits Buck everywhere he can reach, tries to push himself away only for Buck to hold him tighter. Buck feels like he’s holding a kid who's throwing a tantrum. And, in a way, he is.

Eddie’s issues with inadequacy didn’t start in the past decade. It didn’t start with Shannon, or with Christopher.

It started when he was just a boy, and nothing was ever good enough for his parents.

Buck can relate to that.

He knows he would kick and scream the same. He knows he would yell and cry the same. He knows he would want to be held the same.

So he stands there and does his best not to flinch as Eddie keeps hitting him. He’ll have bruises tomorrow that he’ll never let Eddie see, but Eddie’s got scars and open wounds he’s been hiding since he was a child. A few bruises won’t kill.

Eventually, he runs out of energy. His punches get weaker, and he stops trying to move out of Buck’s grasp. His body sags, and he sobs. Harder than he cried before, and so broken. So, so broken.

“Buck, I- I’m-” He can’t seem to finish his thought, and Buck’s not gonna force it out of him.

“Shh, hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Or you could say whatever you want. I’ll still be here, Eddie, I-” He takes a pause and a deep breath. “I’ll still love you, okay?”

For some reason, that makes Eddie cry more.

So Buck says it again.

“I love you.”

Eddie’s body nearly falls out of his grasp as he sags to the floor. Buck goes easily, sitting on the floor and holding Eddie in his lap.

“I love you,” he says again.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not- I’m not a good person to love, Buck. It’s too much of a burden to expect that from anyone.”

Buck scoffs.

“Eddie, look at me.” Eddie leans back and studies Buck’s face. “You see these muscles? They can shoulder the weight. You don’t have to carry your burdens alone, no matter how heavy.”

The muscles comment gets a small smile out of Eddie, and Buck counts it as a win. When Eddie slumps forward again and lays back on his chest, Buck mindlessly places a kiss on his forehead.

“You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I love you, and I want to do it anyway.”

Eddie’s hands are playing with Buck’s t-shirt, stretching out the fabric as he fidgets with it.

“Why do you keep saying that?” he asks in a small voice. Buck presses another kiss on his forehead- this time intentionally.

“That I love you?”

Eddie nods.

“Because it’s true.”

Silence settles over their little bubble as neither of them speak. And then Eddie clears his throat. Buck does his best to look at him, given their current position, but he sees the soft furrow of his eyebrows and the slight pout as he looks anywhere but Buck.

“In, um. In what way?”

Buck takes a very shaky breath. He could write this off, say he just loves him, nothing too crazy about it, and they could move on. But Buck owes this to Eddie. Eddie, who has been so frighteningly vulnerable and honest all night. Eddie, who is currently sitting in his lap, stretching out the fabric of his t-shirt.

Eddie, who deserves to know all the ways that Buck loves him.

“You’re my best friend. You make me happier than anyone ever has. I love when we go out- just us or with Christopher- or when we lay on your couch with beers and a movie on the tv. I love you like that.”

Eddie’s still not looking at him, but Buck’s not finished.

“You’re an amazing dad. You love Christopher so much, and he loves you so much. I love seeing how happy you make each other. I love seeing you happy. I love you like that.”

He rubs a hand down Eddie’s back, and then runs his fingers through his hair.

“Sometimes when I look at you, all I wanna do is kiss you. I want to kiss you all the time. Sometimes I want to do more. When I see you in the gym and you’re sweaty from a workout, or when you’re standing in my kitchen in my hoodie, and all I want is to take it off and kiss you senseless. I love you like that.”

Eddie’s looking at him now, and Buck wants to look away, but Eddie deserves to know this. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, he deserves to know just how deep Buck’s love for him runs.

“And-” he cuts himself off. Telling Eddie he’s his best friend is easy, Eddie knows that. Telling him he wants Eddie to be happy is easy, he knows that too. Telling him how badly he wants to kiss him all the time… it’s a little harder, but anyone with eyes can look at Buck and see how much he wants Eddie.

This? This is telling. This is harder.

He looks at Eddie, who is smiling up at him softly, eyes wide and hopeful, and Buck keeps going.

“I want to be Christopher’s dad. I want to move in together to a larger house with extra bedrooms, and get a dog and a cat. I want those rooms to have cribs and then twin sized beds as our kids get older. I want to kiss you when we wake up and right before we fall asleep. I love you that way. I- I’m in love with you that way.”

Eddie’s mouth is hanging open in a small oh. Buck isn’t worried he’s said too much. He’s said too little, there’s so much more he could say, so many other ways he loves Eddie.

“You are Christopher’s dad-”

“Eddie-”

“Let me finish.”

Buck shuts up.

“You are his dad. And I think, if we combine our salaries, we could afford a house with more bedrooms, and we might have to get married first - or at the very least start dating- but I- I really wouldn’t mind waking up with you everyday.”

“Just ‘wouldn’t mind’?” Buck teases.

Eddie shakes his head and moves around so he’s in Buck’s lap but facing him. Buck is trying very hard not to think about the way Eddie’s straddling him.

“I want that, too. I really do- more than anything. I love you, Buck.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I kinda just told you I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would be kind of awkward on the job if you didn’t feel the same,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

Eddie’s laugh is still a little wet, but it’s in a good way. He’s smiling so big it could power the city.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too.”

“You could start by kissing me?”

Eddie’s smile softens, and his brown eyes are darker than Buck’s ever seen them, but the look on his face is so gentle, so tender.

“Yeah, I could,” he says.

And then his lips are on Buck’s and Eddie’s hands are tilting Buck’s face up just slightly, so he can lean into it. The kiss doesn’t last more than a few seconds, and their lips stick together a little when they pull away. It makes Eddie smile, and he leans back in to press another quick kiss on Buck’s lips, and then one more for good measure.

When he pulls away, he yawns, face soft and sleepy. Buck can only imagine how tired he must be, emotional vulnerability is exhausting, and Eddie’s body must be tired from sobbing.

“Sleep?”

Eddie pouts, but nods.

“I’ll still love you tomorrow,” he tells him. Eddie kisses him again, smile blinding.

And he will. And he does.

#angsty fluff lol <33 #i hope u like it!! tried to make it soft in the end cuz i didnt want this to be overwhelmingly devastating #so!! #y'all can keep sending me promptsies btw #buddie #*my writing #bia gets mail #becca tag #bia.txt

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

idk if you’re taking mad thomas requests but if you are can i request i’ve where he likes reader because she’s the only one who doesn’t treat him like a outcast and isn’t repulsed by him like the other townsfolk

This ask was so sweet here you go :)

Kind Gestures (Mad Thomas x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, developing relationship, confessions, mentions of drinking, partying and taking the berries, outcast!Thomas,

Word Count: 1.6k

"Good day, Thomas. Rough night?" You asked, looking down at where he laid on the hay covered ground.

Thomas, or Mad Thomas as the townspeople called him, was a man who was drunk more often than not. And, when he wasn't, it was usually because he had just woken up.

You were in your father's chicken coup, ready to finish your morning chores, but a familiar man was sleeping in it. He blinked up at you, and reached to rub his eyes. Silently, you were relieved. When you'd walked in and a chicken had been pecking at him, you'd almost thought him dead. From the way he shielded his eyes, you guessed the streams of sunlight were probably too much for the headache he had, and you watched as he smacked his lips. You asked,

"Thirsty?" And he squinted his eyes up at you and said a simple,

"Aye." You gave him a smile, and reached for your pouch. He sat up, groaning as he did, before he took it from you. You watched as he took a swig, and silently you wondered when the last time he drank any water was. You didn't say a word as he finished the pouch, and you took it back as you said,

"I don't mind you sleeping here, but I'm sure my father would." You started, walking away to begin checking each of the baskets to see if they had anything for you this morning. "There's some breakfast left if you're hungry." You offered, hoping that would stir him enough to get up.

You smiled to yourself when you heard the rustle of clothes, and you glanced over to watch him as he stood. Finally, he said,

"I don't need your charity." And your smile only grew. After all the years of you offering things to him, it was almost a tradition now. A routine. You placed the eggs in your basket, and looked over at him as you said,

"Think of it as a kind gesture." And you watched the corner of his lips turn up.

***

Your head turned when you heard someone clear their throat, and your eyes glanced down first to the wildflower someone was holding out for you. Quickly, your eyes flicked up, and, to your surprise, it was Thomas that was offering it to you.

"Yes, Thomas?" You asked him, a flicker of confusion went through your face, before you placed your bucket on the well. You took the flower, and watched as his shoulders relaxed. It was a strange sight, a sight that made you wonder.

"Just- For you." He said, waving at the thing. You smiled, quickly guessing that it was a repayment for this morning. You gave him a nod in thanks, and he turned away. You watched him stumble, and, immediately, you wrote it off. It made you smile to yourself a bit at the gesture, and you placed it in the strap of your apron as you went back to drawing water from the well.

You weren't alone for long. Couldn't be, in a town as small as Union. Lizzie was quick to come up to you, to grab your arm and whisper,

"What was that?" And you gave her a look. She was the towns gossip, and one of your friends. You knew she'd seen Thomas give you the flower, but, as you reached down to touch it, you couldn't find a thing wrong with the gesture.

"He was just giving me a gift, Lizzie. Nothing more." You told her, but you watched the way disgust clouded her face. You frowned, watching as she glanced over at the man. You loved her, dearly, but you wished the people of Union weren't so plagued with distaste for him.

"Looks as if he was trying to court you." She commented, and the idea- Well, it struck you. You glanced down at the flower, then at Thomas. He had been strange, hadn't he? You thought to yourself, but quickly discarded the idea. He wouldn't. The idea was preposterous. "Next, you'll be inviting him to the full moon." She said, and you lifted a brow at her, at the idea. It wasn't a bad one. And, maybe it was what everyone needed to finally understand him. You looked over at her, giving her a small smile. You watched how her face fell, watched the small shake she gave you. "No." But you continued to stare. "No!" She shout-whispered, but all you did was tilt your head and look away. "Tell me you won't!" She demanded, her voice hushed. You could feel her stare, even as you made the plans to invite him before nightfall. You didn't say a word as you untied your bucket.

***

All of the children were celebrating on the full moon. Or, well, the ones caught between youth and adulthood. And, well, only the ones that were invited.

You all went to a clearing in the woods, where you could drink, eat, and have fun without the watchful eyes of your parents, or those that would tell your parents.

You liked to think that that was the only reason Thomas had never been invited.

"Don't you know they won't want me there, girl?" Thomas asked as he followed you through the forest. It'd been easy to find him, but surprisingly hard to convince him. He trailed behind you as if he had other things he'd rather attend. You couldn't imagine he'd get much conversation from your chickens. The pair of you were already late just from having him trail behind, and you walked through the dark forest with only your lantern to guide you.

"That's not true, Thomas." You said, glancing behind you. You watched as he walked, as slow as a snake through the grass. He climbed past one of the trees, his hand on it as he stepped closer. He gave you a look, and you could already guess the words that were going to come out of his mouth.

"Liar." He said, pointing at you. His tone made you smile. You paused, giving him a look back as you waited for him to catch up. You stared at him as he did, watching him as he said, "Lying's a sin, you know." He said, and you scoffed a laugh. You hadn't realized how close he'd come until you felt his hand on your chin, and you were quick to look back to him. He was close, barely a step away, and, even in the dark, you could see his clear blue eyes staring straight at you. Practically as if they could look straight into your soul. "What is the truth then, girl?" He asked, and you stared up at him. You gulped, pushing away the flutter of nervousness the touch brought. The flutter in your stomach with him being so close. You looked away from him again, and took a step towards the trail. You didn't look at him as you said,

"I'd like you to be there." You said, and the words felt too honest on your tongue. Especially when you could see the gathering in this distance. Quickly, you added, "You can protect me from Caleb." To soften your admittance. You smiled when you heard him laugh, and you glanced behind you to see it on his face.

"If you wish to be protected, then why go? Why not stay home?" He said, and you felt his hand, large and warm, reach to hold your wrist. It was a bold gesture, and the pair of you paused. You could hear the sounds of music, see the firelight in the distance. You were only a little bit away from the party, and yet you felt as though there was a whole world between you when you looked back to him. His eyes were on you again, and you practically shrunk under their weight. Finally, you asked,

"Why follow me if you don't you want to go, Thomas?" It was a fair question, one you hadn't asked yet that night. Thomas didn't say anything for a moment, and you sucked in a small breath when he reached to brush your hair from your face. His hand was slow and gentle, his fingers brushing against your cheek as they did.

"You asked me." He said, and, for a moment, you didn't get his meaning. Then, you did. You thought maybe it was the drink, but you'd seen him drunk. You knew he was barely tipsy, sober enough to get through the forest. You opened your mouth to say something, but words escaped you. The only thing you could think of were Lizzie's words from earlier. Looks as if he was trying to court you. Finally, you asked,

"Why did you give me that flower?" It was the top of a list of things you'd never truly thought about. Why did he always find his sleep on your property? In places you'd find him? Why did he have breakfast with you more mornings than not? Why, whenever you looked for him, was he always there? And, with an amount of honesty you could never possess, he said,

"I like you." And your mouth fell for just a moment, just the tiniest bit. He continued, "You're kind to me. No one else is." And you were silenced by his confession. You stared at him, feelings roaring in your chest but your voice was missing. Thomas didn't seem to mind. He laughed a bit at your stunned face, before he glanced at the fire-light. Thomas let your wrist slip from his hand. "Come." He said, nodding towards the light. "They've already seen the lantern." He gestured for you to follow him towards the full moon celebration. And, for the first time, you truly didn't understand him.

#fear street #fear street 1666 #mad thomas x reader #mad thomas fear street #mad thomas #fear street mad thomas

[harryspet]

caged bird | s.rogers, p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!peter parker x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader, polyamory, prison au, noncon/dubcon sex, this plot scenario is very unrealistic but oh well,  reader makes a deal so she can survive, hella manipulation, dominants/submissive, oral sex (male recieving), hella angst, shower sex, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: this is like a really f’d up situation so enjoy :):):) i also wrote this over the span of two weeks so i’m sorry if the pacing is weird and (also x2) this is nowhere near canon

In which you have to make a deal with three devils in order to survive in The Cage.

word count: 4.8k

main masterlist

Your eyelids were heavy though the bright light outside the bus was forcing you awake. Your limbs shackled to the seat, it reminded you that you had lost your freedom so quickly and that you’d probably never have a good night of sleep ever again, “How long?” Your mouth was dry, the heat from the wasteland you were driving through crept through the window. 

“Twenty minutes, princess,” Officer Rumlow looked you over for the millionth time like you were fresh meat ready for the slaughter. His perceptions weren’t far off and that’s what scared you the most. You weren’t cut out for a place like the Cage. 

A week ago you thought this place was fictional, a nightmare tale that was used to scare the new employees. It was still a nightmare but you were now living in it. You thought your heart might explode out of your chest as the facility finally came into view. Five stories of complete concrete surrounded by two, hundred-foot fences and surrounded by a barren wasteland. 

You were the only one on the bus. The Cage rarely received new inmates due to the nature of crimes that the prison was built for. Vigilantes and government traitors. Many used to consider them heroes but they were unregulated and dangerous. That's how they ended up here and, your boss, Alexander Pierce had sold you out to save himself.

“When … W-When am I going to get my phone call?” You asked as the bus entered the gates of the prison, finally stopping at the processing center. 

Rumlow chuckled, walking over to unchain your shackles from the floor of the bus, “Who are you going to call, princess? Mommy and Daddy?” He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you out of your seat and dragging you down the steps of the bus. 

You refused to accept that you had been erased. Your parents probably thought you were only missing, not that you had been wrongly accused of betraying the government and had been thrown into the most dangerous prison in the country. 

“They can’t do this,” You winced as your arm stung, “No trial. No jury. T-This is illegal!”

Rumlow ignored you, and you had to pick up your pace in order to not fall down. Your eyes wandered around, the sun nearly blinding you and stinging your skin at the same time. You noticed in the distance a group of male inmates standing behind a wired fence, wearing the same navy jumpsuit as you, and even from far away, you could see cold and hungry glances. 

You thought you were lucky for a minute since you were a woman but then you remembered what kind of women probably lived here. As you were brought inside, past several guards, through metal detectors and pat-downs. 

When you got to the body cavity search, you expected to part way with Rumlow. Standing in a small, cold room, Rumlow stood in the doorway with his hands casually in the pockets of his pants, “Undress, inmate,” Your eyes widened and you quickly crossed your arms, “Slowly, if you don’t mind.”

“I-I do mind,” You said quickly, “I’m supposed to have a female officer-”

“You don’t get those kinds of privileges in the Cage. We don’t separate inmates by gender,” You shook your head as your eyebrows began to furrow. 

“That’s insane-”

“Undress, inmate,” He said more sternly this time, “Or would you like me to do it for you? You’re lucky I don’t make you put on a show for the rest of the guards.”

You shook your head again, tears starting to form in your tired eyes, “Please don’t-” You tried to plead with him but, as you did, you watched him reach for his baton, “Okay, okay!”

Rumlow smiled a wicked smile, “Good. Bend over and cough, inmate. Let me see that cute, little ass of yours.”

+

When you finally got to see a female officer, she was escorting you to your cell. In your hands, you held the rest of your life which included one more set of clothes, bedding, and a toothbrush. You had to eat what the prison provided and you could only earn extra commissary from working. Hela tried to explain everything to you but you were only latching onto every other world. 

You walked along a slim passageway which had cells to the right and a metal railing to the left. There were three floors of cells and they seemed to go all the way around in a circle. Passed the railing and in the middle of the dome was where it seemed most of the inmates were gathered. 

The shouting, laughing, and fighting echoed through the dome and you couldn’t help but think those calls were for you. You could barely carry your bag of things and walk straight without stumbling. If they couldn’t send your weakness from your appearance then they’d surely sniff it out soon. 

“This can’t be allowed,” You whispered to Officer Hela, though her dark hair mixed with the look of death in her eyes didn’t scream “empathy” to you, “There has to be some sort of rule-”

She stopped in front of an empty, six by eight-foot cell which told you that this would be your new home, “You can sit in solitary if you like,” She spoke coldly, “Your meals get brought to you and you don’t have to deal with the animals in here but there’s no time outside. It’s easy to lose track of the days and forget which voices are real and which ones are inside your head. If you prefer to go insane before you die then I’d recommend that route.”

There wasn’t much of a choice to make and you found your feet moving before your brain could register. You stepped inside the cell, setting down your things on the bottom bunk, “A girl like you is going to need to latch onto a group, pledge your allegiance, and do not let them question your loyalty. They live by a different code here and following it is life or death, do you understand?”

You slowly nodded as you listened and part of you was grateful that she wasn’t completely cold, “T-Thank you-”

She scoffed, “Such a precious little thing … I give you a week,” With that, she turned on her heel and you felt hopeless once again, “I’ll escort you to dinner-”

You shook your head, “I’m not hungry.” You were actually starving but you could not yet face the beast. 

She only shrugged and pulled the door closed. The light above you flickered and you stared back down at your bunk. You were holding back your tears as you tried to make up your bed. Staring at the flimsy mattress material only made you more depressed so you decided just to lay down. Facing the wall, your tired eyes roamed over what was scribbled on the walls. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. is evil. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. is corrupt. 

You hated that the words initially sent a wave of anger through you. You hated that you still felt loyal to that group of monsters. You were a low level worker with good standing and they had just sent you to die?

With your face tucked into your arm, you cried yourself to sleep. 

+

The next day you had no choice but to face your fears. You couldn’t go any longer without food and, in a place like this, you needed to keep your energy up. Before the sun was even out, you heard the mechanical click of the cell door. Your favorite officer, Rumlow, made sure to stop by your cell during roll call. 

“So you decided on general population,” He popped the gum he was chewing, looking you over, “I’m sad to hear it, I was gonna visit you every day in solitary but I guess we’ll get some alone time soon enough.”

You scowled at him and a shiver went through you as he continued pass your cell. You were now grateful that you had chosen general population. 

That feeling didn’t last as inmates started moving from their cells down to breakfast. You stayed back, waiting to slip out of your cell when the crowd had passed. You lingered in the back of the line but no one seemed to notice you until you were in the kitchen line. The first reaction was a quiet murmur that went through the group of (mostly) men at the sight of you. 

You didn’t quite match anyone's stature, not even the women. At least they looked like they could take care of themselves. You were sure that your face probably had dark circles and sunken in features. You looked down when you felt someone's eyes on you and you cringed at every word whispered about you. 

“If I could just get my hands on her …”

“I wonder what a little girl like that could’ve done to get in here.”

“I’d be real gentle with her …” “I wouldn’t … I’d make her scream …”

“Move along,” Hela barked at the inmates in the line. You tried to tune them out as a staff member handed you your tray of food. A stale piece of toast, plastic-looking eggs, peaches, and what looked like could be oatmeal. 

It was when you turned away that you felt a pinch on your bottom. You turned around quickly only to find yourself staring at a chest rather than a face. As you looked up, a man with long, dark black hair stared down at you, “Aren’t you adorable?”

“I said move along, inmates,” You looked towards Hela for some sort of help but didn’t receive any. 

When you looked back again, the man had disappeared. You shook it off, figuring that was the least of what you were about to experience today. As you stepped out into the middle of the dome, you remembered the advice that Hela had managed to give you. 

There were cliques formed at each circular, metal table and you looked each one over as you walked past them. Again, people stared and said vile things but you spotted a table where two women were sitting. They were much older than you but the look you got from them was not maternal in the least. 

“Can I… sit here?” You knew the answer based on their thin-lipped scowls. 

You weren’t like any of them … you were fragile. Besides that, you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the organization was responsible for locking half of these people away. You kept walking, eventually finding an empty table to sit at. 

All you could think about now was eating. You picked at your tray with your plastic fork, and with each bite of the food you cringed. The toast was also completely rock hard, “It helps if you dip it in water,” Your head snapped up as you felt a shadow over you before someone took a seat beside you. 

You weren’t expecting someone so young and you certainly weren’t expecting a friendly smile. You stared at the handsome man with your mouth agape. You hadn’t realized what he meant until you looked back down at the bread in your hands, “Oh … I doubt anything would make this edible-”

He ran his hand through his light brown hair, before reaching into the pocket of his jumpsuit. On the table in front of you, he placed a twinkie. The entire room seemed to go quiet for a moment and you realized that everyone was watching the two of you. 

“I can’t accept this …”

“Of course you can, it’s no big deal,” His brown eyes pierced into yours as he shrugged, “I’m Peter.”

The sugary, process food was calling your name but you still weren’t sure what his deal was, “T-Thank you,” Not wanting to come off rude, you accepted it, unknowingly beginning to seal your fate, “I’m … I’m-”

“Y/N Y/LN,” He finished for you which left your eyes wide with shock, “You’re already famous. The guards like to gossip and it’s rare we get new inmates so people get curious.”

“Oh,” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Don’t worry, some people in here care about your charges, how you got here, but not me,” He tried to reassure you, a smile tugging at his lips, “S.H.I.E.L.D. screwed us all and I don’t think there’s a point in playing who’s the better bad guy.”

You looked around. Now that you knew that people knew your charges and your history, you were starting to feel unsettled. The only thing keeping you grounded was him reassuring you that he didn’t care, “How long-” Your voice came out in a whisper, “How long have you been here?”

Peter took a breath as he thought for a moment, “Few years. Now I kinda forget that I was a normal teenager when this all started.”

Years. And he was a teenager when they brought him here? Did they have no limits to their cruelty?

“God,” You breathed out, overwhelmed, “I don’t think I can … do this-”

Peter reached out, placing a calm hand on your arm, “Hey, hey, you have to survive here. Whether you were meant to be here or not, you have to live like this is your reality. Looking like you’re about to vomit is not a good look to everyone else. I saw Loki over there … he’s an asshole touching you like that  but it’s because he’s already sniffed you out.”

You nodded, trying to stay calm, “But I don’t know how to look … to look less weak.”

“For one, you’re going to have to start eating more and building some muscle,” You could tell by his grip on your arm that he was quite strong, “And the next time someone disrespects you, you have to stand up for yourself. You also can’t just bark like a little chihuahua. Maybe you could pick someone out, someone that you could win in a fight against.”

As Peter started to scan the room, you immediately started shaking your hand, “I can’t just attack someone,” You whisper-shouted, your eyes wide with worry. 

Peter chuckled, “Not with that attitude. Maybe you could go for Heather over there,” He eyed a woman who was practically elderly, “She has a cane so even you could probably overpower though I’ve seen here use the thing as a weapon a few times-”

“Peter,” You spoke sharply, “There has to be another way.”

Peter looked into your eyes and you lost hope for a moment until he seemed to perk up, “I have some friends, we kind of run together in this place, looking out for each other,” Peter explained and you listened intently, hoping for a means of survival that didn’t require attacking an old lady, “I could probably convince them to start looking out for you too. But it won’t be easy, we take loyalty very seriously here, and it wouldn’t be without a cost to you.”

“What sort of cost?”

Peter shrugged, “Could be lots of things. They serve plums on Friday and Bucky loves those so maybe you’d show your support to the group by giving him yours. Something like that,” You followed Peter’s finger as he pointed two men out, one with dark hair and the other with light. Both were built like bodybuilders, “Steve’s a respected leader here and maybe you could help run messages for him.” 

You nodded, “T-That sounds fair,” You paused for a moment as the men eyed you, “And for the twinkie? What do you want?”

“Now you’re starting to get it,” Peter grinned, “Eat it and that means you accept our claim. You’re one of us.”

“Can’t I have time to think about it?” 

Peter seemed to hesitate for the first time, “I’m sure you won’t get a better offer,” Your face fell, “But sure. I’d be quick about it though. Those big, doe eyes aren’t going to work on everybody.”

+

The dark-haired one was following you. Loki, Peter called him, hadn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you parted ways with Peter yesterday. He and his greek god, blonde friend were now walking behind you as you made your way through the halls. They were pushing mop buckets, evidently taking a break from their cleaning duty. 

You had gotten lost trying to find the hospital wing and now you were paying the consequences. 

“Little bird … caged and unprotected,” He taunted you and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to keep from looking back,  “Not even the guards want to save her. Poor thing.”

“It seems she’s in need of protecting, brother.”

“Protecting? If I got my hands on her, the last thing I’d think of is being gentle-”

You turned into the first room you passed, expecting to find somewhere to hide but you only seemed to encounter more people. It was the TV room, a staticy old television airing a baseball game was hanging in the corner of the room, and a bunch of men were sitting at different tables. 

They all turned their heads to you as you interrupted and you immediately recognized the two men from Peter’s loyal “group”. Bucky and Steve. Your heart was out of your chest at the point and you found yourself whispering a “sorry” before turning back towards the door. Loki and his brother, however, were waiting patiently. 

Loki leaned in the doorway, eyeing you like you were fresh meat. 

“Is this jackass bothering you, hon?” Your eyes wide with fear, you quickly realized that it wasn’t Loki taunting you. The dark-haired man’s, you remembered Peter calling him Bucky, voice boomed through the room.

You froze.

“Don’t you have toilets to scrub, Laufeyson?” The light hair man with a thick beard spoke, and by the look on his face you could tell he was a man of power. Not so much power-hungry but someone that demanded respect and often received it. 

Loki scoffed, looking over you again, “As far as I know, this one is free territory.”

“Well, this room is my territory and guess where she happens to be standing,” Loki’s jaw clenched at Steve’s words. 

“C’mere, hon,” Bucky spoke to you, signaling to cross the room. She hesitated but only for a moment as you realized your choices were Peter’s friends or letting Loki, have you. You crossed the room cautiously towards them, everyone now looking at you. You paused awkwardly in front of the table but a small yelp left your lip as Bucky grabbed you by the arm, spinning you into his lap. 

“See,” Steve said as you uncomfortably tried your best not to squirm, “Don’t touch things that aren’t yours, Laufeyson.”

You felt a hand clench your thigh and cringed.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

As soon as Loki stormed away, you stood up, brushing whatever wrinkles had formed in your jumpsuit. Amused, Bucky smiled at you, “You could at least thank us,” Bucky leaned forward and you tried not to scowl. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. 

“Good girl,” Bucky smirked. 

“Lang, get Y/N a chair,” Steve ordered another man in the room. He was quick to obey the command and, even though you were in a new place, you felt you’d been transported into an entirely new planet. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Sit,” Steve said as the chair was placed beside you, “You can leave when you give us an answer to the offer Peter mentioned yesterday.”

You had thought long and hard about Peter’s offer and decided last night that you wanted to reject it. It wasn’t until now that you realized your decision was a mistake. There was no telling when you’d be getting out of this place, Peter had been here for years, and it seemed you were already a target. 

You’d even heard a rumor that the guards placed bets on how long you’d survive in here. 

“Yes …” You nodded your head, “That’s my answer.”

Steve's lips pulled into a small grin as he eyed his friend across the table, “Good choice, doll.”

+

A week later and you were still alive and relatively untouched. Bucky was quite handsy but Peter reminded you that it was just protocol. Everyone had to know that you were a part of their group and that, if you were harmed, they’d have to deal with Steve and his minions. 

Like Peter said, there were quite a few sacrifices you had to make. Your new job in the kitchen allowed you to provide the group with all the food they wanted and when you weren’t working, you were running errands for Steve. You got an idea of all the inmate leaders and how they functioned as a society. 

Steve seemed to be at the very top and you realized the possible consequences of crossing someone like him. Still, you felt more pampered than like you were a part of some elaborate prison gang. Most of your wishes were theirs to grant. 

They let you watch whatever you wanted in the TV room. Bucky always called you pet names that you were starting to grow fond of. Steve had some pull with the guards so Rumlow was never around to bother you anymore. Peter even found you a set of paints to occupy your time in your cell. As long as you followed them around like their cute little puppy, they were quite nice to you. 

“C’mon, run a lap with me. You gotta build your strength,” Peter asked you, his face sweaty and shining under the baking sun. He was shirtless, the shirtsleeves of his uniform wrapped around his waist, and his magnificent physique was on display just like Steve and Bucky’s. During rec time in the courtyard, you’d become accustomed to standing by the fence and watching them lift weights. 

“I’m good, thanks,” You smiled awkwardly, “I get tired just from watching you guys.”

“Peter’s right,” Steve let out a breath as he dropped his hundred-pound dumbbell.

“I just …” Your voice trailed off as Steve eyed you with his strong gaze. You knew that what he said goes but you were growing nervous, “I don’t want to get sweaty.”

“You’re serious?” Bucky chimed in, a curious look on his face. 

“Is that like a girl thing I don’t know about?” Peter flashed you an amused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. 

“Y/N?” Steve could see that you were hiding something.

You crossed your arms, sighing, “I just don’t want to have to shower, okay?”

“You haven’t showered since you’ve been here?” Peter asked incredulously. 

“I have!” You quickly defended yourself, “I mean, I’ve just been using the sink in my cell.”

“I see what this is about,” Bucky had a knowing look on his face, “Dollface is scared of the communal showers.”

Peter’s mouth formed the shape of an “o” as he realized what was going on. You still felt so embarrassed. It was yet another thing that made you seem totally defenseless. 

“Is that true?” Steve asked and you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by their concerned gazes, “Why didn’t you tell us? Next time, one of us will keep watch for you. No one’s gonna bother you.”

Maybe it was the isolation or the fact that your life would never be the same again. Maybe it was the fact that you’d never see your family again or that you cried yourself to sleep every night. That might be the reason you felt that they genuinely cared for you and why you wanted to fully embrace the comfort that they were providing. 

Maybe that was why you wanted to belong to them. 

+

For the first time, you were reminded of your old life. You weren’t sure how long you’d lost yourself under the water, letting time get away from you, as the warm water cascaded along your skin. The showers had a sorry excuse for water pressure and, despite the creepiness of the beige tiles and flickering light above, when you closed your eyes you were in paradise. 

“All clean, beautiful?” Bucky’s voice brought you out of your trance. Suddenly you were back in the square room with showerheads lining each wall. You wiped the water from your eyes before turning off the water. 

“Y-Yes, I’m almost done!” You shouted back, grabbing your towel from off the hook. You pressed it to your face, drying your skin. You were quite grateful that they’d taken the extra steps to make you feel protected, “Bucky-”

As you turned around, that feeling of gratitude quickly turned to something resembling fear. He was supposed to wait for you outside the bathroom and yet, there he was, only three feet away from you. 

“What are you-”

He looked over you hungrily and you pressed your towel closer to your body, “You have no idea how long it's been since I’ve been with a beautiful woman like you … Steve too. And Peter, he’s just learning the ropes.”

You took a step back, towards the wall, and as you did you caught a glimpse behind Bucky’s towering figure. Both Steve and Peter were here, stalking closer. 

“You said you’d protect me…” Your voice cracked, your hands beginning to shake. 

“We will,” Steve spoke, determined, “No one else but us will touch you.”

“Nothing in here is without a cost, Y/N,” Peter seemed a bit solemn like his current life was not what he wanted it to be but he was just as hungry, if not more, as Bucky. 

Bucky grabbed you then, his eyes impatient, and you wrestled for your towel for only a moment before he easily snatched it away from you. A helpless squeal left your mouth as he grabbed you by the arm with one hand and placed his other hand between your legs. He grabbed your thigh tightly and as his hand moved further up, you found yourself paralyzed. 

“Good girl. You’re going to take all of us,” Bucky spoke quietly, shushing you, his grip growing tighter and tighter. Before you knew it, all three of them were surrounding you, their curious hands wandering over your wet skin. Grabbing your breast, your thighs, turning your face to bite at your neck. 

“Get on your knees,” Steve grunted against your ear, growing impatient like his friend. 

When you didn’t move, Peter was the one to push you down onto the cold floor. You hiccuped, trying not to hyperventilate as they overwhelmed you from each side. As they all started to pull down their clothes, you made one final attempt at trying to crawl away. 

Steve grabbed you by your throat, making your efforts futile, pushing your face towards his crotch. You felt it, hard and throbbing against your cheek, “Open up, don’t make this hard, doll,” Through the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky stroking his own length, waiting patiently for his turn. 

Steve grabbed you by your hair next, pressing your closed lips against his tip. He forced himself in your mouth, “There you go,” Steve grunted, pushing himself deeper, “Move that tongue around.”

Steve Rogers could make your life a living hell in the Cage. Was this really the price you had to pay in order to survive here? You couldn’t imagine it being any worse than this but Steve could make that possible. That’s why you started to swirl your tongue like he said, deciding that their orgasms would end your pain. 

Bucky was much rougher than Steve, pinching your nose closed and enjoying watching your eyes widen and water. He practically touched the back of your throat and still commanded you to stroke Peter and Steve’s cocks with your hands while you took him in your mouth. Somehow, you managed. 

Peter was much more gentle and you were grateful for that. His hands rested softly on the back of your head, guiding your mouth slowly up and down his length, “God, this is awesome,” He cursed, his head tilting back as he enjoyed the stimulation. When he finally finished, his warmth filled your mouth and before you could spit or catch your breath, Bucky grabbed you again. 

He came so far down your throat that you were forced to swallow it but, unlike him, Steve took his time, “This little mouth. Is ours. Every single hole. Is ours. No one else, do you understand?” With each sentence, he thrust hard until he filled your mouth. You leaned over, coughing as you felt the stinging of your sore throat. 

You were about to collapse onto the dirty cold floor when gentle arms lifted you up into a broad chest. You found yourself not fighting, only pressing your face into Bucky’s chest as you began to sob. 

Steve didn’t have to say anything more. You understand your new position and there wasn’t anyone else there to save you from that fate. 

That night you learned there was a change to your cell assignment. You’d sleep in Steve’s arms, a little bird that was safe and protected in it’s cage. 

+

hope you enjoyed!! i’m posting this instead of sleeping because I have class in this morning :) 

#dark fic #dark peter parker #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!peter #dark!bucky #dark!steve #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!stucky x reader #peter parker #steve rogers #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #steve rogers au #prison au #polyamory #menage #peter parker smut #bucky barnes smut #stucky x reader #winter spider #tom holland #chris evans #sebastian stan #the devil all the time

[griffintail]

hey, i love your storys and i was wondering is we could get a part 2 to Dad!Sam X Child!Reader. thanks.

Thank you!

In Training

Pairings: Parental! Awesamdude x Teenager! GN! Reader

Warnings: Mild Violence, Non-Descriptive Wound Mention, Past Manipulation by the Egg, Mentions of Kidnapping

Part 1

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

(Y/N) whirled around as their sword struck the training dummy, Fran barking in excitement. (Y/N) chuckled at the dog’s excitement before continuing their own imposed strict training.

Sam had been at the prison for days recently but, (Y/N) while sad, didn’t falter. They tried to improve! Sam said he’d around more if he had help but trust was a hard thing to get in the SMP, and Sam had to really trust someone to help guard the SMP’s only prisoner. It was taking longer than Sam and (Y/N) would have liked but Sam had to be sure and (Y/N) understood.

Striking hard against the dummy, (Y/N) paused when instead of excited barks they heard Fran growl. Looking around as they carefully lowered their sword. Fran smelled something foreign to their area.

“Fran, protect.” (Y/N) muttered and started to move forward as casually as they could, Fran on their heels.

Trying not to alert the foreign intruders, (Y/N) tried to be casual as they picked up their shield and went towards the house. Fran was still softly growling as she followed orders from the teen while looking around. Halfway to the house was when Fran started to bark furiously. (Y/N) followed Fran’s locked gaze at the two figures approaching entering their clearing. One in white and black robes and the other a hybrid with startling red eyes.

“Hello!” The one in white robes spread their arms. “You must be Sam’s child, right?”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) said slowly. “You seem to know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you gentlemen, and my father has taught me not to talk to strangers.”

Fran was still barking and (Y/N) made no move to calm the dog.

“Sam hasn’t talked about us? We’re good friends of his! I’m Bad and this is my friend Ant!” Bad introduced themselves. “And now we’re not strangers!”

“Afraid that’s also not how it works. If you’re looking for dad, he’s currently feeling a bit under the weather and not taking visitors. So, if you don’t mind…” (Y/N) said going to move to the house again.

“We actually wanted to meet you!” Ant quickly said. “Sam talks about you so much.”

(Y/N) stopped, gripping onto their sword. “What does he say about me?”

“Oh, a lot of wonderful things! Like how much he loves you and cares about you, how good you are at sword fighting, how well you can build, and how much he trusts you to be home alone.”

“Damn.” (Y/N) whispered as they looked at Bad.

“Language,” Bad said but grinned.

They’d caught (Y/N)’s lie but (Y/N) also could hear the underlying threat.

“What do you want?” They growled quietly.

“We wanted to talk about the Egg!”

“Don’t care. Good day.” (Y/N) huffed.

“Now!” Ant stepped forward, making (Y/N) take a step back as Fran stepped in front of them. “The Egg has a lot to offer you. And Sam! We can talk about it if you can just calm down the dog and we just sit.”

“What makes you think I want anything? I’m pretty happy.”

“Even with Sam gone so much?” Bad threw out, making (Y/N) frown. “You must be alone so often.”

“You think that’s going to help convince me? That just makes me want to get farther from you.” (Y/N) laughed.

“Come now, let’s just try and talk.” Bad spread his arms.

“No. Now, get off my property.” (Y/N) held gripped their sword tightly to make a point.

Bad sighed. “We tried to do it calmly.”

Quick as a flash, Ant pulled a bow and shot at the teen. (Y/N) was luckily just as quick to block with their shield, growling.

“Fran, attack.” (Y/N) ordered before getting low to the ground as they raced behind the dog bolting for the two intruders.

Bad pulled a sword as Ant fired at Fran first, the dog managing to change direction out of the way. Bad yelped as (Y/N)’s sword rang against his with the strong force before his face went hard and he started to fight against (Y/N). The teen could pretty easily hold their own though, they had been training. Swords scrapped against each other and (Y/N)’s shield as not far away, Fran was taking bolder and bolder snaps at the cat hybrid, keeping him occupied.

(Y/N) doubled down against Bad before managing to disarm him and knock him over before putting a point of the sword to his neck.

“Fran! Heel!” (Y/N) commanded and Fran growled at Ant but moved no further as Ant watched the teen. “I suggest…you put that down.”

Ant looked at Bad then (Y/N) going to put the bow down before smirking as (Y/N) felt a hit on the back of their head. They fell to the ground, trying to get the world to stop spinning as they heard Fran give a pained yelp but then they felt another hit and they blacked out.

“Thank you.” Bad took Hannah’s hand. “Let’s get them to the Egg. Sam can’t deny us if the Egg shows his child the path.”

…

Sam struggled slightly as he ran with his little creeper in his arms to Church Prime with his wounded side as potions did so but damn it, he’d make it there. Fran ran beside him as they made their journey. Sam hated himself for all of this. It was all his fault.

He had been guard duty for weeks. He had no one to take over for him. Ender knew how long (Y/N) was with the Egg! If he had been there instead of only finding out from Tommy!!

He’d fix it now though and he wouldn’t screw up again.

“We’re almost there Fran and (Y/N),” Sam muttered as his side, burned but he saw the tower of the church and he’d make it.

Sam looked over (Y/N) again as he sprinted down the prime path. Their usual clothes were now a deep red but the vine-like lines that had been around their eyes were now gone. He’d reverse the damage.

He stood on the edge of the holy ground a few minutes later and went over, (Y/N) finally giving their first sight of movement as they winced as they went over the line. But it was good, (Y/N) was on the grounds. Rushing inside the church, Sam put them on the edge of the pool before using an empty potion bottle to scoop up the water.

“Alright. (Y/N). (Y/N), wake up for me little creeper.” Sam muttered as he shook the teen.

It took a bit of trying as (Y/N) had passed out earlier but he managed and (Y/N) blinked awake slowly.

“D-Dad?” They muttered, disoriented.

“Yeah, here, drink this quickly.” Sam quickly propped them up.

(Y/N) couldn’t think straight yet and took the bottle without question and took a drink before wincing. Holding their head, Sam quickly hugged them.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. It’s just trying to fight against the cleanse.”

“C-Cleanse?” (Y/N) questioned as they winced at the pain.

“Drink, just drink.”

(Y/N) looked at the blurry room around them as they didn’t want to drink. They didn’t want to feel more pain.

“Come on, drink kiddo.” Sam pleaded.

(Y/N) whimpered before chugging the drink to get it over with. Dropping the bottle when it was gone, they held their head with both of their hands. Sam hugged them tightly, whispering comforting words with Fran’s head in their lap, as he waited for the Egg to leave his child. Slowly, the deep red on their clothes disappeared, and ever so slowly, the pain subsided.

When the pain was gone, (Y/N) waited a few moments before looking at Sam, who smiled so happily as he held their face.

“There’s my little creeper.” He said.

“What-What happened?” (Y/N) muttered as they looked around at the church around them.

“What…do you remember?” Sam asked carefully.

“I…There…Those men!” (Y/N) sat up straight. “They-They attacked Fran and I!”

“Who were they?” Sam clenched a hand.

“I-Bad and Ant. And—” They put a hand on the back of their head, wincing. “There was a third. They hit me from behind.”

“I-I don’t know what happened after that,” Sam admitted. “But, you’re alright now. Let’s get you home and we’ll figure this out later.”

Sam stood up and took their hand, helping them up and letting them lean on him as they started the slow walk back home.

“I…I fought them off for as long as I could.” (Y/N) told him.

“You fought them?” Sam looked at them surprised.

“Yeah, but not well…I didn’t even know there was someone else and Fran helped me.” They muttered, the dog wagging her tail.

“Still. That’s really good, Bad and Ant aren’t weak fighters.” Sam mumbled, planning a long “chat” with the Eggpire.

“Not good enough to be a guard.” (Y/N) said under their breath but Sam caught it.

“What? A guard?”

(Y/N) flushed as they looked away from the father, Sam stopping their walk.

“(Y/N), I…I know haven’t been around a lot, what’s going on?”

“That was kind of the point.” (Y/N) shrugged. “I-I know you have a lot of work to do on your own with the prison and you don’t have help! So…I’ve been training to try and help you at the prison and then we can also be together more.”

Sam’s heart melted as he gently hugged his child. “(Y/N)…Ender, you have such a big heart. I love that you tried to get better so you can help me and we can be together more often, but I don’t want you in the prison. It’s a bad and dangerous place but I promise, I’ll get guards to help me.”

(Y/N) hugged Sam back tightly, tearing up slightly. “I just…I miss you so much and I just want to help.”

“And I’m so happy to hear that you want to help and I’m so, so, so sorry I’m not home more often, but I will be. I’ll find guards and I’ll be home. I love you so much little creeper and I’ve missed you too.”

He wouldn’t let something like this happen again. He wouldn’t screw up again…

#mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #awesamedude x reader #dreamsmp x reader

[the-dream-team]

Can I Try Again

Another ridiculously fluffy one-shot for @efkgirldetective's summer of jily week four prompt: picking berries // I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right // the entire song, pink in the night <3

She is beautiful and he is in a perpetual state of falling. Down and down and down the goddamn rabbit hole, but somehow the further James plummets, the brighter his life becomes. It’s the kind of brightness that blinds him- somewhat painfully- and leaves his vision spotty, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lily Evans walks ahead of him, a spring in her step, sunshine pouring through her hair. She’s cut it short for the summer, just above her shoulders, and he’s mesmerized by the way it bounces around her neck as she walks through the gardens of his family’s home. It’s an image he’s played over in his head an infinite number of times, but his rosiest daydreams don’t hold a candle to the real thing. The afternoon light hits his glasses just right and suddenly there’s a halo of glowing stars framing her as she tucks a dark red strand behind her ear. He can’t even see her face, but it doesn’t matter. I could stare at your back all day.

He is the luckiest boy in the world and every moment is made up of the sweetest form of torture. Agony and exuberance whipping his heart back and forth like a rogue Bludger.

She must know, he thinks. Must have some sort of clue that she’s occupied every corner of his mind for well over a year now. Even more so now, after the platform. He wishes more than anything for the ability to read minds as she glances over her shoulder with those startlingly green eyes, that friendly grin.

He can’t help but smile back- or maybe he was already smiling before she even turned around. It doesn’t matter. By some miracle, she’s here, and he can only marvel at the kindness of fate.

***

It had been a passing comment. One of those early morning conversations as his friends frantically scribbled out unfinished essays while shoving waffles down their throats. Chatter muffled by mouthfuls of eggs and yawning. Remus had commented offhandedly about the fruit bowl being passed around, and then-

“Oh, raspberries are my favorite.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already looking at her when she spoke. But truthfully, he was always looking at Lily, a habit he’d long since stopped fighting once he realized how fruitless his efforts were. She was beautiful and he was hopeless. Simply lucky to be in her presence. She was the sun, and he, but a lonely planet, entirely reliant on and endlessly seeking out her light.

Sirius spoke the words James should have if his mind hadn’t gone fuzzy from hearing her voice.

“You know, the Potters have a raspberry patch in their gardens.”

“Oh, really?” She glanced from Sirius to James with a brilliant smile and excited eyes, so purposefully glued to his that he had to duck his head and rake a hand through his hair to hide his heating cheeks.

“That’s right,” he said more to his plate of sausages than to her. “They’re usually ripe to pick by early August.” When he peered back up, she was still looking his way.

“You should come over this summer and take some off our hands,” said Sirius casually, turning towards James as if it had been his idea.

“Yeah,” he jumped in a little too eagerly. “I mean- if you’d like, you’re more than welcome.”

Her smile widened, rounding the apples of her cheeks in a way that made his stomach flip pleasantly. “That sounds like fun.”

He assumed she’d forget the conversation, it had been just another morning, just another casual chat among housemates, but that didn’t keep him from daydreaming about the potential of a far-off day in August rather incessantly during the following months. But then as the school year ended and summer rolled on painfully slowly (and Lily-less), an owl arrived. And her handwriting crawled across the page like a message written in the clouds.

***

Lily swings the woven basket back and forth in her pursuit of the best raspberries. There’s already an impressive bounty growing in her basket, far more than he’s managed to collect- too busy watching her kneel down and pluck berries off their delicate branches to pick any of his own.

He turns to a leafy bush, green and lively and swaying slightly in the warm breeze, and quickly pinches off a handful of berries in an attempt to catch up with her. When she spins around, he’s thankful for the distraction. A minute earlier and she would have caught him staring. Again.

She smiles pleasantly and brushes her fringe off her sweaty forehead with the back of her wrist. James’ heart leaps into his throat.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says, but not accusingly.

“No I haven’t,” he responds, voice gravelly from underuse. “Just been busy picking raspberries.”

She glances at his measly basket, then back to his face with arching brows and an amused smirk.

He can’t help his own guilty grin. “Alright, Evans, I’m sorry we can’t all be unreasonably talented at everything we do.”

“It’s berry picking, Potter,” she laughs, “not advanced Arithmancy.”

In retaliation, he plucks a raspberry off of the nearest branch and playfully throws it at her. She somehow has the gall to lean her head back and catch the goddamn berry between her teeth. His brain short circuits. He’s quite certain his jaw is on the ground. She acts as though this is no big deal, swallowing the fruit with a satisfied smile, her tongue brushing her lower lip before tossing another into her mouth.

“Oh, these are delicious!”

He can’t form a response even if he wants to. Even if it was a matter of life or death, which it sure as hell feels like. He can only stare at her mouth, at her lips stained raspberry-pink, and lose himself in the knowledge that he knows how they feel against his own- even just briefly.

***

The platform teemed with students stretching their legs after the long journey home from school, saying their goodbyes to friends as their families greeted them for the summer.

A pit sat in James’ stomach- heavy and demoralizing- the entire train ride back to London. He knew she’d be gone soon. Back with her parents in Cokeworth for two excruciating months before their seventh year began. He’d taken their close proximity for granted during the school year, and as he faced a summer without the promise of her warmth, he wondered if it was even possible living in the dark.

He laughed loudly at a joke Peter told, overcompensating for the fact he’d missed the punchline while his thoughts were spiraling over her. Sirius shot him a look that suggested he wasn’t doing a great job of masking his emotions. Had it been so obvious the entire way home? Could she have noticed the despondency in his eyes, heard the heavy thumping of his heart? He rolled his eyes at Sirius and mustered up the most unbothered smirk he could manage.

But then, without warning, she was in front of him.

“Alright, Potter, don’t let your head overinflate while I’m not around to keep you grounded.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Evans,” he laughed, thankful his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “Just so long as you promise to consider switching your loyalties to Puddlemere. There’s no way the Harpies even make it to the semi-finals this season, and I can’t bear seeing you heartbroken again.”

“Oh, piss off, Potter,” she replied, but the way she threw her arms around his neck seemed to argue she didn’t mean what she said. Instinctually, he hugged her back, and thank Merlin he had her to hold onto as the wind was knocked out of his lungs at her touch. An overwhelming warmth sparkled across every surface their bodies met, and it took every ounce of control he had to restrain the truly pathetic sigh that threatened to escape his throat.

“And I haven’t forgotten,” she spoke into his shoulder, breath hot thorough his t-shirt, “you promised me berry picking this August.”

It would be impossible to miss the rapid beating of his heart through his chest pressed up against hers. “I’m already counting down the days.”

When she pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders for a beat longer than expected, his body moved faster than his brain could keep up with. He leaned forward, aiming for her cheek, but miraculously landing against her mouth- connecting for the briefest of moments before parting again, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. If it weren’t for the ghost of her lips still burning against his own, he might have thought he’d dreamt it.

“Lily, I’m not waiting any longer, we’re leaving, now,” came the unpleasant voice of her sister from across the platform.

Lily’s disoriented smile faltered slightly before she composed herself again, meeting his eye. “I’ll see you in August?”

“Yeah, August,” he somehow said with his mouth still tingling, forever changed by what they now knew.

***

The memory of her lips, how they feel pressed between his smile, is harder to ignore when they’re in front of him. He can remember the warmth where they touched him over a month ago and absentmindedly he brings a raspberry to his mouth so he can imagine how she must taste.

His emotions were hard enough to control before he knew what he was missing, but now they are impossible to reign in. He forgets how to breathe, and as a result, his head spins maddeningly. Unsure of how much longer he can stand up straight without making a fool out of himself, he walks forward and lays a hand on Lily’s back- partially to lead her forward, partially because the desire to be connected to her in any way is driving him mad.

She lets him guide her through the rows of bushes, under an ancient wooden archway, and across a courtyard of blossoming poppies and forget-me-nots enclosed by walls of hedges. Yellow and purple petals reflect brilliantly in her green eyes, creating their own fields of wildflowers within her irises. He walks her towards a wide, circular fountain in the middle of the grass where bubbling water spills over onto stone tiers and pours into the basin below, its floor littered with glinting coins, dancing under the water’s rippling surface.

He sits down and she follows suit on the stone ledge surrounding the water, partially shaded by an impressive plum tree. Cool droplets spray off the fountain, refreshing like summer rain singing I love you, I love you, I love you. Lily glances his way and he wonders if she can hear his thoughts.

“Are we finished picking berries?” she asks, eyes squinting and nose crinkling in the sun.

“I figured you had enough to feed a village.” He reaches over and grabs a raspberry from her basket and she gasps in faux outrage.

“Are you really stealing my raspberries, Potter?”

He adores his name on her tongue. “My apologies,” he says, pulling a silver Sickle out of his pocket and sliding it over to where she sits. She looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “For your troubles. Go on then, make a wish.”

“Oh!” Her eyes light up and she takes hold of the coin, lifting it to her heart as she closes her eyes in search of a wish.

He thinks he could look at her forever. Happy, sunkissed, an unconscious smile playing across her lips. With her eyes shut, he uses a minute to take a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing heart and compose his dopey grin. They’re sitting close together, knees almost touching with the basket of berries between them. As she tosses the Sickle behind her shoulder, he smells the faint scent of her vanilla shampoo.

She noticeably tries to hide her smile when her eyelids flutter back open.

“What did you wish for?” he asks, unable to stop himself.

She freezes with her eyes locked on his. A pink blush spreads across her cheeks, growing darker the longer he stares back at her. “I can’t tell you,” she says, words sounding choked, “or else it won't come true.”

Her flushed face awakens something in his chest, a confidence that blooms magnificently, turns his nervous, pattering heartbeat into a steady, powerful drum.

His voice drops to a hoarse whisper when he asks, “Can I guess?”

Her breath hitches. “I think you might already know, James.” Her words, the sound of his name, melts him down to a puddle. By some miracle, she continues speaking. “Look, I know I’ve kissed you before-”

“But I didn’t do it right,” he says frantically, his hands finding her face and brushing through her hair. He starts to understand why people advise against looking directly at the sun because being this close to her fills him with such astounding emotion he thinks he might explode. She stares up at him, blush deepening, lips parting, and he takes a ragged breath. “Can I try again?”

This time, when she smiles, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He leans in slowly, letting their breath mix together, their noses bump lightly before he closes the space between their lips. She’s soft and warm and beautiful and radiant and he’s never felt a happiness quite like this one, never experienced a kiss this perfect. His fingers travel over her scorching skin and brush her neck as he deepens the kiss, tasting the raspberries on her tongue, his heart soaring as she responds blissfully until they’re both left breathless.

“And again?” she asks, pulling him back with a smile against his lips.

“And again,” he smiles back, marveling, once again, at the kindness of fate.

#summerofjily #look guys #i have never written present tense before so take that information as you will #and of course i switched to past tense for the flashbacks because I guess I want everyone to suffer #have some sickeningly sweet fluff to make up for it lol #i do not love writing kisses! #but I know you guys like when jily seals the deal so I do it for you #absolutely love this prompt and mitski is that glareingly obvious? #plus picking berries is all i've thought about for 24 hours #<3 #who is reading these tags #seriously lmao #jily fic #jily #lily evans #James potter

[underqualified-human]

Garou x reader Prompt 21

A/N: Is it obvious that I’ve never celebrated Halloween? Also funny how both of my posts with over 200 words are both Garou. @g4rous come get your man.

Fandom: One Punch Man

Warnings: cursing, no beta we die like real men, reader is called ‘Miss’ by Tareo

Word Count: 670

Summary: Garou gets into Halloween shenanigans.

Prompt 21 from @sdktrs12 's prompt list

21. “Why do you have so many eggs and toilet paper—you know what? I don't want to know.”

Pronouns: She/Her

┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.☪ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐

You stared at your reflection in the mirror quickly fixing your make-up and then moving on to your teeth.

You fiddled with the fake vampire fangs that you got from some online store, making sure they were perfectly straight and would stay in place. After a few minutes of this, you took the cape that you got at a costume store and tied the strings around your neck.

A few moments later you were in your kitchen fetching a big bowl and tearing open the bag of mixed candy and tossing it in. You sat on the couch and waited for Garou, a few trick-or-treaters came by your house. Most of them were dressed as heroes, some from T.V shows some from the nearby cities.

There was a knock on the door, the moment you opened it he hugged you, a small moment of silence passed before he let go.

He took the duffel bag and put it down on your couch, taking out a costume he pointed at the door leading to the hallway, “Can I go change in your bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah sure it’s down the hall to the left.”

He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before walking to the bathroom. Tareo, who had been silently standing there the whole time, awkwardly sat next to you on the couch.

“Uh, hi miss...” he gave you a small wave while smiling nervously.

He was dressed like a hero you had seen patrolling the city a few times, it looked a little cheap but you could still tell he had put a lot of effort into it.

You responded to the gesture with a wide smile, “Hi, Tareo, nice to meet you!”

Garou had told you about him before, you’d also seen him around the city a few times.

“It’s nice to meet you too Miss Y/N!” his shyness quickly vanished, “Mister Garou’s talks about you a lot.”

Your face and ears suddenly start to heat up, “O-oh, that’s nice.”

Garou suddenly stepped back into the living room, wearing a dark cloak; black pants, and shoes“C’mon kid.”

He lightly tapped Tareo on the shoulder urging him to get up from the couch.

“Aww, it’s so sad that you have to go so soon.” It was unclear who you were speaking to.

“Don’t worry Miss, we’ll be fine!”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about babe.” He placed another quick kiss in your temple.

As they walked out of your front door you called out to them, “Be safe!”

♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour before Garou burst through your front door, countless toilet paper rolls in his arms. He was rushing straight to your kitchen.

“Why do you have so many eggs and toilet paper—you know what? I don't want to know.”

“Some ass wouldn’t keep their mouth shut,” he mumbled, walking out of your house with toilet paper and an egg carton you bought yesterday. Just then you noticed a teary-eyed Tareo standing by your door.

You leaned down to his level, “Oh no, what happened?”

You both sat down on your couch, him drying his eyes slightly, “Some of the older kids were making fun of my costume,” he said softly “then when they tried to hit me Mister Garou took me to your house again.”

“Oh,” you paused “would you like me to call your parents for you?”

“Yes please, Miss.”

♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥

After Tareos parents had come to pick him up you had removed your costume and gone to bed, putting out your lights and going to bed.

At around 12:30 Garou had come through your window, it woke you up almost immediately. You calmed down when you saw that it was him, he quietly walked toward your bed. He laid down and wrapped his arms around you and placed his chin on your shoulder.

“So how’d it go?” you giggled.

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“Right, just don’t get caught” You placed a quick kiss on his lips.

└─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.☪ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┘

#garou #x reader #opm x reader #one punch man x reader #one punch man #garou x reader #fall prompts #Aries writing

[poppywrites41]

Captive Love Chapter 1

Prince!Yoongi x Maid!Reader

AN: this MIGHT turn into an ot7 fic. honestly depends on my mood, i dont rlly have a plan for this so it might not even be completed itself. Here is the first chapter for it. lmk what y’all think!!

If y’all like it, i will keep posting, but I will be busy until May with university assignments.

WARNING: Implied death, cursing, sexual references. There will be more smut and violence to come in future chapters. If anyone is triggered by smut, non-con, death or violence, DO NOT INTERACT ANY FURTHER IN THIS BOOK.

The man watched with cold eyes as the young female body fell from his hold to the floor with a thud. He kneeled down and places his hand on her neck to check for a pulse. When he found no signs of life, he sighed in annoyance, “Fuck...I didn’t even get to try her out yet.” What was her name again? He didn’t know. Well, he didn’t really care. If he is feeling frustrated, there is usually one in his vicinity doing her chores where he can just grab them and do as he pleases. They don’t fight and he likes that, but it has started to get boring. This girl was different. She was probably new and didn’t know what to do, so she had a tiny bit of fight to her. But, she apparently didn’t know how to clean his desk properly, so she got herself a little too hard of a squeeze to the neck.

The prince huffed and went down the hall to let the guards know to remove the body that was in his chambers. They immediately took action, rushing with haste to remove the inconvenience from their majesty’s room. The man walked into the banquet hall where his parents and 6 brothers were eating their dinner.

“Yoongi my daring!” his mother called him over to her, taking his hand, “you must try the elk! Jungkook killed it today and it’s the biggest one anyone has ever shot! It is absolutely delicious!” Yoongi looked over at his youngest brother who had two servant girls on either side of him, begging for his attention. It annoyed Yoongi that Jungkook could just bat an eyelash and would have 5 women at his feet ready to suck his cock. Why the fuck was he so popular? “Nice kill.” he said to the youngest as he sat down next to his second younger brother, Namjoon. Namjoon was one of the brothers he tolerated well. He was a smart man and handsome at that. If he had been born first, he would have been a good king. He also had good luck when it came to fucking.

“Mother,” Yoongi said as he was served a piece of elk with roasted vegetables, “I need a new bedchamber maid.” His mother sighed, “Did you dispose of another one already?! Didn’t she just start last week? Yoongi, this is the 4th one in the past month and a half!” “She couldn’t do her job properly. I did what I had to.” The second eldest prince huffed.

“Mother,” Jimin, the third youngest spoke up, “where are you finding these women? What’s their status?” “I think this last batch came from Hearthfield. A few of the girls were daughters of the noblemen whom we paid handsomely for.” she recalled. Jimin laughed, “That’s your problem! You’ve been getting girls who don’t do that stuff. You need to go to Seaport to find the best girls. That’s were I get my bedchamber maids from. They know how to work, and they know how to properly serve a man.” The queen smiled warmly at her third youngest, “Thank you Jimin. Yoongi, I will send out the guards to Seaport to find more women to work at the castle. You may come down to the courtyard and inspect them. Though you may not pick yet, for they need to be trained.” “Thank you mother,” Yoongi said as he dug into his meal.

“Y/N!” an older male voice called to the girl staring at the sea, “Go help your brother with the crab traps. Remember, females with eggs-“ “get thrown back, males as big as the palm can stay. Got it!” the young girl finished for him, jogging along the dirt path to their dock.

Y/N and her family are fishermen. Well, her stepfather and stepbrother are. Her mother passed away 3 years ago when she was 18 and she never really could recall her own father. Her stepfather wasn’t a bad person. He treated her like a human being, but there was always a wall that she felt he put up around himself. She and her stepbrother tolerated each other when it came to working. He wasn’t the worst person in the world, but he always made it known that he was superior to her. Sometimes she felt like she didn’t belong in her own home, but she enjoys working by the sea. She walked onto the dock where her stepbrother was already going through one of their crab traps. “Hey,” he said, not looking up at her, “you know what to do. Better go fast so we make it back before dark.” Y/N nodded and went to the next crab trap, opening it up and sorting their catch. The sun had begun to set when they finished. Y/N and her stepbrother loaded the wagon with buckets of crab. Her brother got on and started the horse towards the village where the best crabs will be picked to be taken to the royal family. “You go on back. I’ll take them.” her stepbrother said. She nodded and began walking back home. Y/N never thought much of the royal family other than being jealous that they get the best of what they caught. She sometimes wonders what they are like. As she walks back, she closes her eyes and feels the sea wind on her face. She can practically taste the salt in the wind. She’s happy here. She doesn’t need to worry about some royal family. Her life is good.

When Y/N was finally able to spot her home, she saw a group of men in armor with horses in front of her home, conversing with her step dad. She thinks nothing of it and continues her walk. She then notices the head guard hand over a sack of what looked like money to her stepfather. Y/N got excited thinking that maybe the royals were paying their subjects extra money for their good food and ran toward her stepfather. When she arrived, all of the men looked at her. “Is this her?” the guard asked her stepfather. “Yes sir,” he replied, “she does not have much to pack that she would really need there, so she is ready to go whenever.” Y/N looked at her stepfather in confusion, “Where am I going? What do I need to get?” Before he could answer, the guard spoke, “The king and queen sent us out to find young women to serve them in the castle. We seem to have had a drop in servants recently and are paying families to hand over their daughters.” “But you surly must have enough!” she said, sending a pleading look to her father, “we are happy here! I wouldn’t be much help! I only know how to fish!” “Y/N!” her stepfather’s voice increased, “You must go. We have barely had enough money to feed three mouths since your mother died. She would have agreed to this.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her family was giving her up? After all she had done for them? Tears began to well up in her eyes. The guard was the next to speak, “I will give you three minutes. Grab what you can carry, come back out and get into the wagon. We leave for the castle.” Y/N barley nodded and slowly walked into her home to her room. She got a small crossbody satchel and put her small stuffed bear her mom made her in it, her favorite shell and her notebook. She found her mom’s necklace and put it on. It was a simple necklace; a silver pendant that had the words “my love for you is as great as the sea” etched into it. When she came out, her brother had just returned. She looked at him and he avoided her gaze which broke her heart. “Come girl,” the captain said, “We haven’t got all day. We must return this evening.” Y/N nodded and followed his horse to the wagon. When she hopped on, there were only 6 other women. They were very pretty so she felt left out. Granted, Y/N didn’t really have the luxury of having a mirror so she never really knew if she was pretty, not that she cared anyways. She looked back at her home as it slowly disappeared from view, already missing her life on the sea. After what seemed to be a few hours, the group arrived at the gate of a great stone castle. Y/N thought the castle came straight from a fairy tale book.

The wagon was brought into the courtyard where there was an older woman waiting. The girls were lined up in front of her. She walked down the line of young girls, inspecting them. She sighed and turned around to face them all. “Welcome, ladies, to the castle of Bangtan. My name is Lilith and I am your head maid. You all have been chosen to be servants of the royal family. These duties include cleaning the interior of castle, serving food to the royal family at meals or guests during balls, doing their laundry or fetching anything they ask for. There are a few rules you MUST follow; NEVER look a royal in the eye unless told to by one, NEVER speak informally to a royal, only speak when spoken to and NEVER refuse service to a royal. Do what you are told and life will be easy. Now, your training will begin at 7 AM, I will take you to your quarters. I will show you where to meet me in the morning. Come along and do not fall behind.” The girls looked at each other in confusion as they followed the head maid into the castle. Y/N felt someone staring at her but when she looked back, she saw nothing. She quickly followed the group into the doors so that she won’t be left behind.

“So my darling,” the queen said to her second oldest son, “what do you think?” Yoongi huffed as he watched the girl with h/c hair rush to catch up to the group. “She looks like work,” the queen sighed, “hopefully she will last longer than the one who was disposed of three days after arriving.” Yoongi on the other hand was intrigued by the young girl. He couldn’t get a good look at her face, but her posture was different from the other girls. They were making themselves small while she stood tall. She seemed strong, like she had some fight in her. Yoongi is intrigued by that. The queen could see the wheels turning in his head, “Has one already caught your attention my dear?” “There is one that is particularly interesting,” he said folding his arms, “but we will have to see.” “Do not mess with them immediately,” the queen warned, “they need to train and get used to their new environment. Give them a week.” With that she pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked back inside. Yoongi went back to his room and lay down on his bed. He couldn’t get that h/c out of his head. He knew he was not supposed to interact with the new servants until they are properly trained, but what’s training without an actual royal? A smirk played on the prince’s lips as he thought about the next day until he fell asleep.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts royal au #poppywrites41 #yandere yoongi #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut

[80s4life]

The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Word Count: 4,438

Status: Not Requested

Fandom: Back To The Future 1985

Relationship: Biff Tannen x Female Reader

Summary: As time is altered for a total of 2 weeks (I extended it slightly), you and Marty struggle to get his parents under control, having problem after the next. But, when an unexpected solution occurs, you find yourself willingly okay with it, soon finding the exact reason as to why.

Warnings: language, fluff, Biff being a dick, slight angst, cute Biff

Masterlist Back To The Future Masterlist

Prompts: (from this list @youneedsomeprompts​)

Y/C/S= Your Choice of Sport/ Your Chosen Sport (you don’t have to honestly play one, just choose one you like or one that comes to mind)

{gif and prompts are not mine, gif credits go to @backtothefuturemovies and credits were given above for prompts!}

No one ever said time travel was fun. No one ever said the job was easy. And no one sure as hell told you the consequences that come with it. Well, at least not before you, and your best friend, Marty McFly, had gone dead-on through a barn, sacred a neighboring family of ‘alien invasion,’ run into younger McFly parents, and altered time just enough to fuck you over for a few days.

I mean, who would’ve guessed right? Your mom just so happens to be romantically interested in you, their child. Well, that was at least in Marty’s case. For you, you had just managed to run into the biggest dickhead of the century, Biff Tannen. Or so you thought?

Making your way out of bed, you automatically go to where Marty was sleeping in the garage, waking him along with Doc up. The go-to plan for the day was to go undercover as usual students in the 50′s, secretly following Marty’s parents around, finding out where they lie in this part of time, and try to find ways into manipulating them together once more in time for Marty and you to get back home. Easy enough, right?

Groaning, Marty goes to slap your hands away weakly, mumbling something along the lines of ‘Just a few more minutes.’ You giggle slapping his hands back in an attempt to wake him up cheerily. Mornings weren’t really your forte either, so any upbeat wake-up is better than a pissy, tired, horrible morning. 

Doc, on the other hand, was happy to return the affection, getting out of bed to give a quick hug and kiss to the forehead. Then he makes his way over to the bed, going to tickle Marty’s feet as you go to tickle his sides. Finally, in a fit of laughter, Marty gets up and goes straight for the bathroom. You were going to argue him, having to use the bathroom first, but decide to just leave it be, heading for the makeshift kitchen instead.

You smile fondly as Doc and Marty play around a while later, wrestling about, cracking jokes. It was only just a few hours ago that you and Marty had witnessed the untimely death of the currently very lively man in the house. Witnessing the blood loss, the machine gun in action, and the bullets that whizzed pass with only one malicious intent: to kill. But he’s here now; he’s safe and sound, having many years until that date will arrive.

With the freshly cooked smell of eggs, toast, and pancakes, the boys straighten up, Doc clearing his throat in an attempt to organize himself, and Marty leaving his shirt ruffled as he follows the smell of deliciousness. You giggle as both men of different ages act exactly the same, piling their plates high and digging in, giving thanks through mouthfuls.

///LATER///

After breakfast had finished, you and Marty made your way to the school, not wanting to be late, and, quite frankly, not wanting to miss a second in the disaster we’re in, wanting to fix it as soon as possible. Upon entering, the building erupts in laughter, tears, screaming, perfume, cologne, aftershave, and lots and lots of both testosterone and estrogen. Fucking high school, you smile.

Going to “your locker” right besides “Marty’s,” you both place the books and supplies that are unneeded inside it and take only the things you need for the first two classes, somehow having those together. As Marty catches glimpse of his father, George McFly, he winks at you, moving to catch up to him. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn back towards your locker, just barely missing a group of young men some ways down the hallway, locking eyes with a particularly taller man, towering almost everyone in the halls.

You pay no mind, however, being blindsided by three girls your age. Instantly, you recognize the one right in front as Lorraine, Marty’s mother. Smiling nervously, your cheeks tint only a little, being unprepared to see her so quickly, not yet having a plan made up on how you could help tackle the situation with Marty.

“Hiya! I’ve never seen you before, are you new here? I’m Lorraine Baines, and you are?” she asks cheerfully, her books clasped tightly to her chest.

Taking an obnoxiously long time staring dumbfounded, you finally realize you haven’t spoken, quickly recovering with newfound purpose and confidence, “Ah, yes! I am new here! Sorry, I’m just trying to get used to this place a tiny bit. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well that’s quite alright, you can come with us!” she says once more in a cheery tone, taking you by the arm and lacing her arm around yours, locked elbows. You smiled, knowing exactly where Marty’s cheerful and people-person nature had come from. Walking down the halls, she had asked for my schedule, checking classes to see what we had together, “English, History, and Agriculture- Hey! You should try out for cheer leading!” 

Shaking your head lightly, “Nah, I’m more of a Y/C/S myself to be frank.”

“But...We don’t have that sport here? There are no girls sports at all actually...” Lorraine says confused. You go to cover it up, choosing to say it was a sport you play for fun at home, in the backyard. However, a beefy arm separates you momentarily from her, as the owner of the harm moves to pin her to the lockers.

You were going to walk away, figuring it was some sort of make-out session in the works, but upon looking at her before going, you notice that the man was absurdly unwanted. 

“Get your meathooks off me Biff!” she screams at the man, his huge form towering her much smaller one. Not taking the message, the pair continue to squabble, neither of them being successful in winning. The warning bell sounds over the halls and classrooms, alarming kids to get their asses moving, but it seems whoever this dick is, he feels he is greater than the school, and god forbid, knowledge.

“Hey, you do realize your not making a damn bit a difference, right? She’s not interested! And, quite frankly, it seems as if no one does! Now, if you don’t mind, could you please be kind enough to unhand her as some of us treasure a piece of mind and how to take a hint?” you finish, quite ticked off as the last bell warns, cursing under your breath as you already know your in for detention on the first day.

It finally seems that he’d caught a grip, thankfully, letting go of Lorraine’s arm and she quickly scurries out of his proximity, taking your hand to lead you to the class you both needed to be in. As you go to walk in, you are stopped by the teacher, scolding both you and Lorraine. Looking at her regrettably, she smiles defeated. So you decide to do what’s right, take the fall.

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know where to go as I was trying to find where all of my classes were before I ended up lost every time classes switch. I caught up to Lorraine here at some point, and as she was hurrying to this class, she was kind enough to show me where I needed to be,” you finish, sighing guiltily.

“Well, as you’ve taken acknowledgment to your mistake, then you’d be just as happy with detention. After school, on Friday, as the first week is extremely busy. As for you, Miss Baines, thank you for your help. You are off the hook for now,” the older gentleman finishes, nodding to each of you personally before turning around and beginning just one of the classes you’d have today. This is going to be fun!

///LATER///

Finally, after grueling hours of just a few of your classes, lunchtime had came round, giving you a slight break. Catching sight of Lorraine, you smile and wave, going in the direction of Marty, or Calvin Klein, as you’d heard Lorraine go on and on about. You’d known it was him the second she’d said it, the brand not yet known to man yet; or at least in this timeline, it wasn’t.

As time had went on, it was only natural for the peace to be broken, as a newly familiar face was starting to appear more and more, Biff Tannen, as you’d known his name by now. But, instead of heading towards Lorraine, he makes his way over to the table you were residing with George and Marty, sitting himself right beside you. 

At first, you were trying to ignore him, knowing his presence was there, but keeping your eyes trained on either Marty or George, eyes dancing between the two. Biff, being the everlasting child he was, tried to catch you attention, trying stupid ass things after the other: kicking your shins, pulling your ears of hair, flicking your head, and even trying to tug on the 50′s style dress you’d been forced to wear to play your part. 

Only when he goes to tug your hair once more is when you finally snap, turning a furious glare to the hulking figure beside you, shoving his shoulder in a feeble attempt to create distance. He giggles at this, his body not moving an inch at all. “You can’t be serious right now! You don’t know when to quit it, do you?!” you scream, fed up with his shit.

“Well, if you’d give me the human decency of turning your head when I’m trying to talk to you, then I wouldn’t have to pester you, now would I?” he asks in a teasing tone, no doubt taunting you, but all you do is stare him down, getting lost in a staring contest, daring him to say something again. “Alls I wanted to say was that we have detention together. Just thought I’d let you know since you got me in all that trouble this morning.”  

“Why you-!” And with that, he gets up with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, prancing out of view and back to the table he and his gang usually sit. Watching the whole interaction, George smirks at Marty, the pair giving an unspoken mutual agreement to whatever they had both caught on to, bursting into fits of laughter moments later. 

“You have a longer tolerance than I do, I-I-I’ll tell you that much,” George says, his usual slight stutter back in place, Marty laughing once more. As George joins in again, you couldn’t fight it either, giving into the childish antics.

///LATER///

To say your week had gotten any better than the first day was a lie. It hadn’t gotten any better, and your meetings with Biff at lunch had only gotten all the more common and all the more infuriating. He’d made it his duty to agitate you in any ways possible, even resulting in whispering something nagging in your ear when you weren’t paying attention, usually doing something in your locker.

Either way, he was on the countdown to Friday, it being constantly on his mind, mentally counting down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds until the two of you were locked in a room alone.

Unfortunately, that day had seemed to come way faster than you’d like, Friday rolling around quite quickly. School had finished, and you were making your way to the front office, awaiting a tiring 2 hours with only yourself and Biff as company for the time being. You hadn’t known where the room was, and instead of spending time looking for it, you gave up and looked for the office instead, the nice front desk lady leading you where you needed to go.

Upon entering the room, there was Biff in his prime, casually spread across his chair, legs crossed atop his desk nearest the windows. Sighing, you ignore him, deciding to sit on the opposite side of him, the front desk lady giving you a sympathetic smile before she closes the door behind her. You look at the wall, head turned away from him like the plague.

You knew it’d only last so long until he’d speak, the time coming way faster than you pleased. Given it was Friday, you couldn’t even do homework or even study in order to block him out as he started to blabber, running his mouth over stupid shit once more. Inhaling through your nose, and exhaling through your mouth slowly, you straighten in your seat, hands clutching the desk so tight, your fists turned white. 

“Biff, Sweetheart, Baby, Doll Face, Hun. Please. PLEASE. Shut up for five god damn seconds. I know you truly have nothing to say, so why do you insist on speaking so much?” you finally say, hands prying off the desk to turn in his direction exasperated. 

“Well, if you’d just talk to me, Shortcake, I wouldn’t have much to say at random,” he answers, copying your actions and posture. With this change in childish demeanor, you give in, laughing at him in an unexpected rush, running your hands through your hair tiredly. 

Although you hadn’t seen it, he’d smiled in satisfaction upon seeing you laugh, the glitter in your eyes much more captivating than it ever was when he looked at Lorraine. He hadn’t barely pestered her since you’d barreled into his life. It was weird, but he welcomed it with open arms. And for the first time, he learned what it was like to have an actual, clammy-handed, closed throat, warm, cheek-tinted, teenage crush. A crush that left his heartbeat loud and fast, breathing ragged and uneven, and his behavior out of character and out of his control. Lorraine was way under whatever level he’d placed you on, holding you up on a pedestal like you were the sun or sky.

Of course, you hadn’t taken notice to his antics, just thinking he was annoying. Just Biff being his notorious self. But, as you finally calm your breathing down, the giggles fading, you decide to give him a chance, knowing that sitting in silence is just going bore you. Smiling warmly, you say, “So what do you want to talk about then?” 

///LATER///

Grabbing your bag, you get out of your seat, giggling at a story Biff had told you. He follows your lead as well, getting his own as he lets out a bark of laughter at a certain part. You guys looked like idiots as you shoved each other down the halls, making your way out of the school as your detention had came to a close. Sighing as the warm sun radiated on your skin with the light, spring breeze, you stretch out any kinks the classroom chairs and desks had left. Biff watched you intently, your small body easily swallowed by his shadow beside you.

The sun was setting and it was getting late, although you weren’t concerned. The boys knew you wouldn’t be home ‘til late due to the detention you had initially despised. Now, you and Biff were side by side, walking peacefully to his car in the school’s parking lot. For once, he was quiet, great company to have. It was something else for sure, but you enjoyed it. As you came up towards Doc’s place, you’d realized that Biff had drove you home like a gentleman, too lost in the conversation to notice earlier on. 

Sheepishly, you itch the back of your neck, realizing your mistake and feeling guilty for making him walk all this way to now have to walk all the way home. “Ah- Sorry...I didn’t realize I’d dragged you all the way out here. Now you have to drive all the way back.”

“It’s no problem, really. I liked it. It’s nice to talk to someone other than the guys every now and then. And to have A female speak to me instead of screaming,” he answers, now being the one who is a bit shy.

“You do know that you bring that on yourself right?” you say teasingly, now leaning your head on your hands, propped up on the passenger side door. “Not every girl would want to kick you in the groin if you showed a little more respect, “ you finish off with a smile.

“Yeah...Yeah I know. I’ll try harder, I swear.”

“That’s all I ask,” you say with a wink, drumming your hands on the door as you take a step back, waving as you start walking down Doc’s driveway.

“Hey!” Biff calls from the car, stopping you in your tracks to turn around, facing him with a smile. “Uhm- Well- The Enchantment Under the Sea Dance is coming up next week...Would you mind being my date?” he asks, stuttering as he feels his cheeks heat up, nervous as hell.

“I’d love to!” you answer, turning back around to walk into the house. Biff does a little fist bump as he puts the car back in gear, excited for what is to come.

///

Marty was a little less than amused with this newfound knowledge once entering the door and going over the events of the day. It was only when Doc had suggested that the date with Biff would keep him away from Lorraine, giving George the freeway to attract her long enough for their True Love’s Kiss. Then, and only then, did Marty give the okay, shaking his head, but liking the fact that it’ll give George some time, being the nerd that you know and love.

///Enchantment Under the Sea Dance///

Checking yourself over in the mirror for the final time, you let out a nervous yet satisfied sigh, feeling like an absolute princess. You never minded dresses too much, although you couldn’t deny the fact that normal pair of shorts, jeans, or even leggings were your first choice. All that mattered was that you liked the dress you were wearing, it fit you; it was your favorite color, length, and strap(less) type to hold everything in.

Walking out, you grab the pair of heels to match, knowing that you couldn’t get away with sneakers in this generation, painfully grimacing at the reminder. Finally standing, you recount when you had gotten the dress just a few days ago, having gone with Lorraine and the her two friends, Babs and Betty. They were very endearing and supportive the whole time, you not having to worry about being “to picky” as they were just the same. You ended up loving the dress given that you’d taken the time without pressure.

As you walked into the main room of the garage, you heard a low whistle of Marty, Doc slapping him on the back of the head for it. Giggling, you curtsy and spin in the dress. Doc, the gentleman he always was, compliments you, “You look amazing, my dear. Let’s hope this boy deserves it, hmm?” 

As an answer, you hug him tightly, knowing that, by the end of the night, he will be nothing but a dead man at home, in a lonely, dark parking lot. Your eyes tear up just at the mere thought of it, clutching him tighter. Marty seems to be on the same wavelength, going to interrupt the moment with great urgency, trying to pass him a piece of paper.

“Marty, if this has anything that involves my future, do not. And I repeat, DO NOT try to hand it to me. Whatever happens, happens young man. That’s how the world works,” he says in a warning tone. You wanted to disagree, but you knew the truth that was laced beneath it, as if it was a punishment. You whimper instead, pulling him in tighter; Marty looking down in defeat, soon switching to anger. In the midst of it, he storms out of the garage, getting in the car to go pick up who you’d hope was Lorraine for the dance.

“Just let him go...” you start, sadness evident, “He’s just not very happy with the outcome of what the future has in store for you. Quite frankly, neither am I.”

“I’m sure whatever the outcome is, that I wanted to go with it, dear. I assure you, I’m fine,” Doc answers in a consoling tone, wiping the tears that had slipped from your eyes. You knew it was just a mask, no one wants death, but you knew he needed to go no matter how much you hated it. So you nod, not having to say much more as a honk sounds from outside.

“That’s Biff...” 

“Have a great time! Make sure the McFlys kiss!” Doc screams, following out of the garage, scolding Biff from behind you.

“Yes sir!” you scream back, saluting him as you take a seat in the passenger.

///

“You look beautiful Y/N,” Biff says after a while, finally working up the courage to speak.

“Thank you Biff. And you look handsome yourself,” you giggle, the car pulling into the lot. 

He shuts the engine, grabbing his keys from the ignition and closing the door, making his way around to you as you let yourself out to straighten yourself out. He takes your hand as he leads you to the entrance of the dance, you sighing in relief as you catch a glimpse of Marty pulling up in a car with Lorraine. Finally, you relax, grasping on Biff a little lighter and with more meaning now as you have the night to yourselves. He smiles down at you as you wrap your arm within his, something Lorraine does with you quite often.

With the party in full blast, you let loose with the music, dancing and joking around with Biff. At some point, however, he says he needs a drink and will be right back. Although, he doesn’t seem to actually come back. You’d thought you’d seen him spiking the punch just as few moments ago.

Just as you were going to in the direction of the hallways to the rest of the school, you notice Match, one of Biff’s friends, storming out of the gym through an exit. Taking your bets, you follow behind him, soon being greeted by a huge commotion of screams, all of them from familiar people. Biff was in a car with Lorraine, her dress pulled and taken off in parts. He was no doubt about to do something stupid, the fact pissing you off, saddening you in some ways as well.

The others that were screaming were also George and Marty, the pair trying to get Biff to stop before he regrets it. He doesn’t listen, unfortunately, until your voice booms over the rest, “Biff!” 

His head snaps instantly in your direction, the situation dawning on him the instant he looks at your face. You hadn’t meant to portray your emotions so clearly, but your face had shown such distraught and hurt. He lied. He had gotten over Lorraine, yet the moment she was alone, he runs right back to her.

With his momentary change of focus, George finally steps in, “You get your filthy hands off of her!” finishing with a blow to the jaw that knocks Biff off balance. 

Marty looks to you sadly, but tries to smile in cheers as George and Lorraine leave together, motioning that he was going to follow them just in case. You nod, looking down now as your play with your fingers. You didn’t know what to do now as the only reason you were really here was for Biff. You weren’t needed for Lorraine and George, you knew Marty had it.

You decide to make your way home then, as there was nothing else you could do. Dances were just drags anyway, nothing worth while. “Your just going to leave? Just like that?” asks a deep voice, his body having gotten back off the pavement and stood by the car he was pinned against.

Without turning, you answer his question with another, “Why not? There’s nothing left here for me is there?”

“And why wouldn’t there be?” Biff asks once more, no doubt ticking you off at his usual teasing tone.

“Well, let’s see. You. You asked me to the dance as your plus one. I came here as your date. We have a good time, we dance, we talk, and then you come up with an ‘Oh I need a drink’ charade, not returning. Then, I come to find my date in the parking lot, about to get his licks in on a woman he was apparently over with! So tell me, what is left here for men here, Biff?” you finish, tears pooling your eyes over the time, although you don’t let the fall, keeping them there.

He looks guilty, you can see it, but you don’t care. Your not in the wrong this time. But, as your blood starts to cool down, you do notice the look in his eyes, the change in his demeanor, and the utter remorse that has overcome him. He has his head down, fists clenched at his sides, body stock still. He doesn’t know what to do, all he knows is that he’d fucked up.

“Or was this your fabulous way of telling me that you love me?” you finally ask, eyes moving to look up at him in a teasing manner.

He hadn’t expected you to speak, head snapping up to meet your gaze in confusion. Being as you’d looked at him with a glint in your eyes, he finally lets everything click together; you’d forgiven him. His face heats up in bashfulness however, as your words resonated within him as well, hand going to itch the back of his neck again.

You giggle, walking up to him now, hands going to his collar. Pulling him down, he gazes at you in amazement, his own hands falling to rest on your waist. Then, you crash your lips to his, pulling him ever closer. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it, soon pulling you closer to himself as well. Lifting you slightly, he sets you on the hood of his car, the height difference a definite stretch for him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, you were perfect. Just the same as he was perfect for you.

#biff tannen x reader #bttf #back to the future #biff tannen imagine #bttf imagine #back to the future imagine #thomas f. wilson #crispin glover #george mcfly #christopher lloyd #dr. emmett brown #doc brown #doc #michael j. fox #marty mcfly #lea thompson #lorraine baines

[infernal-fire]

I love your dark Jake Jensen and I have a request for him, so the team gets in contact with reader for supplies for a mission an Jensen feels a spark between them so he makes every excuse to talk to reader to the point the team teased but helps him out with his grand scheme to get with reader but they don't know how far he'd go to make reader his ☺️💕 thanks

I love a good dark!jake fic!! I have changed the specifics a litttllle bit so i hope this is alright :)

Warnings: implied noncon/dubcon, some creepy behaviour, mention of stalking, drugging, mention of breeding kink

Summary: 5 days; that’s how long it takes him to become fixated on you.

Wc: 2k 

You’re My Delusion

They could have gone to any supplier. Fate would have it that Aisha wanted you, and only you. 

The melodious tune of a piano ringtone chimed in your bag. You ask the other daycare teacher to take over for you and picked up the phone: Unknown Number. You watched the phone ring until the line went dead and resumed your day. 

It may have been an ‘unknown number’, but your subconscious unequivocally knew who it was. Grumbling at the thought of being contacted again, you twisted the handle to your condo. Of course, you didn’t bat an eye when there was an envelope on your countertop, one that you didn’t put there; Aisha knew that you knew the phone would ring again, and if you didn’t answer, she would pay you a visit.

When Unknown Number flashed across your screen for the second time that day, you considered letting it go to voicemail again, but picked up anyway. 

“Aisha.”

“Y/N.”

“If you’re gonna ask me for an assist-”

Aisha cut you off. “I know you don’t do missions anymore. We need a safe house that’s off the books.”

“Who’s we?”

“They’re all men.” As if on cue, you heard someone guffaw in the background. “It’s making me lose my goddamn mind,” she elucidated. 

“You know I don’t really do this stuff anymore,” you huffed, “But I’m making an exception this one time. For you.” You could hear Aisha let out a squeal of happiness, and realized how bad it must be if she uncharacteristically showed excitement.

//

While cleaning up your old warehouse-turned-safehouse, Aisha’s words echoed in the back of your head. “Some of them are a little... bulky. Let them sleep on the floor.” You tried to protest, asking her, what’s the point of a safehouse if they aren’t resting well, but she dismissed the question. “Trust me. They’re nothing more than cavemen.”

It was 4 AM; foot tapping impatiently and sipping on the third coffee of the night, you smacked your forehead in frustration. It was way past bedtime. After living alongside Aisha for years, anyone would appreciate nights that consist of 8 hours of sleep. 

You could certainly appreciate it. Being a daycare teacher, living in a civilian condominium and not engaging in government work was something you couldn’t take for granted. Not after all the shit you’ve seen. 

3 brusque knocks sounded on the metal door to your right. Your head snapped to the source, waiting for Aisha to call out the code word. 

“LOSERS!” a voice hollered from the other side. You trudged to the door, trying to shake off the dizziness that came with standing up too fast. 

Opening the door with caution, you had only blinked a few times before a body pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You’re never this excited to see me. That bad, huh,” you sneered. 

“You have no idea.” Aisha pulled out of the hug and turned to face the men who had lined up nearby. 

“So… who’s this?” The guy with dirty blonde hair, nerd glasses and a horrible sense of fashion piped up. His whole appearance was an oxymoron to his build - muscles protruded out of the bright pink shirt that hugged him like a second skin. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine him as anything more than a harmless golden retriever.

“Don’t ask as if you don’t know Jensen,” Aisha groused. You could practically hear her roll her eyes. 

“What’s your name, darling?” another guy spoke. He exuded the energy of a leader; you looked him straight in the eyes and gave him your name. 

The golden retriever repeated your name as if to try out the taste of it on his tongue. You gave him a lopsided, close-mouthed smile and asked Aisha for her teammates’ names. 

“You don’t need to learn their names.” She stalked off, unwilling to be a part of the conversation any longer. 

The guy you had assumed was the leader sighed at her attitude before introducing himself as ‘Clay’. He pointed at each person and gave you their titles. 

“Okay so you’re Clay, that’s Cougar, Roque,” you skipped over Jake, “and Pooch.” 

“Me?” Jake softly inquired.

The rest of the team began picking up their things and walking away, but not before Pooch nudged Jensen with his shoulder and winked. The puppy-like man flushed in response and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“What about you?” you asked once you were alone. 

“You didn’t say my name.” 

“I know it’s Jake… but can I call you ‘daddy’ instead?” 

He froze up, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Relax Jakey,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m only teasing.” You winked and strutted away, snickering to yourself at how he looked like he was about to pass out.

The entire team was trying to egg you and Jensen on. Well, not the entire team. 

Aisha and Roque couldn’t care less, and Cougar did nothing more than smirk at your playful banter. 

Often, Jensen would start a conversation that would escalate quickly, your witty dialogue interrupting his rationale. You thought it was adorable how he didn’t know how to respond; a guy like him could have fantastic game, but he was too much of a sweetheart, not the mention, way too awkward. 

One particular night, you let down your guard, just enough to actually get to know him. 

“You seem like a really supportive uncle,” you commented at his excitement for his niece’s next soccer game. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wish my parents would have done this for me.”

“Done what?”

“You know… Tell me they’re proud of me.”

“Well Jake... I think you should know, that I’m proud of you for everything you’re doing for the country.”

Jake looked up at you, sporting the signature look of the uncertainty of how to respond. It didn’t take a genius to be able to tell that he wasn’t used to being praised. 

“Thank you. That means a lot more than you know,” he quietly responded. 

The rest of the night was spent in a solemn, yet understanding silence, one that both of you were oddly comfortable with. 

Unfortunately, that would also be the last time you saw him. 

Or so you think. 

The mission went sour, and for the first time since retirement, you wished you had assisted. Maybe if you assisted, the mission wouldn’t have gone south. Maybe if you assisted... you would have been able to say goodbye. 

Without even realizing it, Jake had burrowed a little hole into your heart. You hoped life could go on with the little leak in your pump. Regardless, there is no time for sulking; after all, no amount of reminiscing would change the way things happened.

It had been months after Aisha and the team went back into hiding but you were faring well. Life as you knew it had continued without a trace of the burly, soft man-baby. You almost forgot about the ordeal, up until that day. Perhaps it was fate that had you switch the TV on at that time. You would never know.

A team of rogue CIA agents, presumed to be dead, have now infiltrated a crime branch operating within the US government. They have been pardoned from their status as “Enemies of State” but can no longer work for the CIA taskforce, as their identities have been indefinitely compromised. 

You blinked at the screen, watching Aisha’s name and picture appear. Subsequently, there was Clay, Pooch, Jensen, Cougar and Roque. You were happy for them.

Pooch could go back home to his wife. It was hard to imagine what it must have been like for the missus; pregnant and alone. Though you didn’t know Pooch that well, you knew he was a good partner and husband. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door shutting and clicking in place. Your hand frantically pressed the ‘volume up’ button on the TV as you hurled for the handgun under your pillow. 

Sliding to the wall beside the door, you cautiously peered into the dark hallway and made out a large figure. You huffed quietly before appearing in the doorframe with your gun pointing straight at the mystery guy. At this point, you had a good idea of who it was, but you wanted to mess with him anyway. “Hands up, and not another step forward.” 

He tried to speak, but you cut him off. 

“Don’t. speak,” you punctuated each word. Reaching for the light switch, you flipped on the hallway light. The dim light revealed your golden retriever standing there with his eyes wide open in fear. 

“Don’t shoot?” he said, like a question. 

You grinned and tucked the gun into your waistband.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I should come see you.” 

“You could have knocked, like a normal person.”

He shrugged sheepishly. 

“How do you know where I live?” you questioned. To that, he fiddled with his fingers and looked down. 

“Only Aisha knows this place. And I know she would have never told you.” You intently stared at him while leaning into the nearest wall and folding your arms.

Jake didn’t want to tell you that he had been stalking you. Every spare moment he had during the remainder of the mission was spent tracking you. After a few weeks, it felt as though you had moved on. It pained him, to say the least.

“I- uhm,” he looked up at you and took a step forward, “Hey, I just-...” He stopped when you reached for your handgun again, now wary of his intentions.

He put his hands back up. 

“I wanted to ask you out properly.”

“What do you mean ‘properly’? We were never going out, to begin with.”

Before you understood the spur of movement, Jake lunged for you and plucked the handgun out of your pyjama’s waistband, throwing it over the railing of your staircase. You tried to kick him, but he pricked you without giving you a moment to react. 

“What did you give me?” You clutched your neck in the spot he sunk the needle. 

“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do that,” he exhaled. He tried to hold you, but you weakly pushed him off, still trying to recover from the shock of his betrayal. 

“Takes 5 minutes to really work,” he scratched his neck. 

Then there was the fight. You gave it your all but with no weapon or leverage, you were going up against 200 pounds of pure muscle who was hell-bent on restraining you for some reason. 

2 minutes into the fight, you began to really feel the effects of whatever he gave you. He point-blank caught a punch that you tried to drill into his sternum. You look up at him incredulously, unable to still believe that he was trying to take you down right now. 

At last, he snapped. 

“Listen to me,” he grasped both your hands.

You momentarily struggled, but your shoulders slumped and you gave up on trying to free your wrists. 

“How could you move on without me?” he asked, attempting to look you in your eyes. You wouldn’t meet them. 

“Jake, you are delusional! I barely had a crush on you for 5 days,” you cried, letting the wetness spread over your cheeks freely. At this point, it was clear, what he was here for. 

“You should know, those 5 days were some of the best in my 29 years of living. I want that for the rest of my life.”

“Why couldn’t you have done this like a normal person?” You finally met his eyes with an excess of tears blurring your vision. 

“You keep saying that,” he began, letting go of your arms and wiping your tears, “but you know that you and I are not normal.” Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

Your legs were beginning to buckle, but Jake caught you, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He strode into your bedroom as if he had been there a thousand times, put you down on the bed gently, and brushed the hair out of your face. 

Here we have Sergeant Linwood ‘Pooch’ and his wife reuniting. It is the first time he has seen her since his last mission, before disappearing. It is also the first time he will be seeing his child. Definitely, an emotion reun-

Your captor turned off the TV and turned to smile at you.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, but seemed as if he were talking to himself. 

You couldn’t respond, all your muscles now refusing to attend to your demands. Instead, more tears streaked down your face. 

“A baby,” he whispered, “Yes, that would be nice.”

Masterlist

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[storiesforallfandoms]

baby sister ~ mark;midsommar

word count: 1929

request?: yes!

“Mark from Midsommar imagine about Christan's sister crushing on Mark and when Mark finds out they start dating. And Christian finds them making out and gets all pissed and tries to fight Mark but reader yells at Christian to stop.”

description: in which he’s very protective over his baby sister, and now his best friend is dating her

pairing: mark x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

There were so many words that could describe my brother. Asshole was definitely the most accurate one. Protective was the second most accurate way to describe him.

I was the family baby, and when mine and Christian’s dad left, Christian took it upon himself to be the man of the house. This included being the one to try and scare away my boyfriends. Well...try and usually succeeded. It was becoming impossible to date unless I did it secretly.

Which was what I was doing with Christian’s best friend, Mark.

From the moment we met, I knew I was head over heels for Mark. Of course, trying to act on that under Christian’s watchful eye was basically impossible. Until Mark initiated a particularly steamy make out session while Christian wasn’t home.

“We can keep this a secret,” he assured me. “I don’t bring girls around anyways, and the guys don’t ask about that shit.”

“Secret romance is incredibly sexy,” I noted. Mark smiled and kissed me again.

Ever since then, we had secretly been in a relationship. No one knew, not even Dani who was my closest friend. I trusted her to keep the secret from anyone else, but Dani told Christian everything. She couldn’t lie to him, he knew her too well to fall for her lies. I knew giving her this secret would be a massive burden on her, and I couldn’t do that to her.

The secret rendezvous were hard sometimes, especially since Christian and Mark were living together. On the occasions where Christian would go over to Dani’s, and Josh would be out wherever for the night, I would go over with Mark for a few hours. But spending the night was a big risk. It was hard to know when Christian would come home, and the last thing either of us needed was for him to catch me in Mark’s bed.

I walked through the front door of the guy’s apartment and immediately called out, “Hey fuckers!”

“Hey baby sis,” came Christian’s voice in response. “You caught me at a sort of bad time, I’m about to go to Dani’s for a while.”

I gave him a worried look. “What? Why? Are you and the guys okay?”

“Oh yeah, nothing bad happened. She’s just having a rough time and I want to be there for her,” he responded. “You’re free to hang here if you want, but Mark will be the only one here. Josh is out of town with his parents for a while.”

I tried not to let the smirk I was feeling inside show. “Oh, well if it’s just Mark I’ll probably leave.”

“I don’t blame you. The guy is kind of boring.”

If I didn’t know that Christian’s way of showing affection was by insulting someone I probably would’ve been offended.

He brushed past me and said goodbye, promising to hang out with me again after he spent some time with Dani. I pretended to be following him out to my car and waited until he was far enough away that he wouldn’t see me turn around and run back into the house.

I knew Mark was home. His car was in the driveway and his bedroom door was closed, something he always did when he was home and wanted some privacy. I ran straight to his room and threw the door open. His eyes widened as I dove onto the bed and immediately cuddled into his side.

“Is Christian gone already?” he asked.

I popped my head up to look at him in shock. “You knew?! And you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t get the chance! He literally just told me when he walked in like an hour ago. I didn’t think he was leaving so soon.”

I rolled my eyes and kissed his cheek before settling my head into his neck. “So, how long is he gone for?”

“All weekend,” he responded. “Won’t be back till after class on Monday he said, and even then he may be gone for a little bit with Dani.”

“So,” I said, “are we having our first sleepover or not?”

Mark chuckled and kissed my forehead. “I would love for you to stay over. But do you want to go home and get your clothes?”

“Why would I want to do that when I have your clothes here?”

Mark gave me an amused look before rolling us over to get on top of me and begin to tickle me.

The first night I got to spend with Mark was fantastic. We spent so many hours just cuddling and talking, and of course countless hours having sex without worrying about anyone catching us. The first morning together, I woke up to find myself alone in bed, but with the smell of breakfast drifting in from the kitchen.

I got up and pulled on one of Mark’s shirts and ventured out into the kitchen, not worried about anyone catching me for once. Mark was stood next to the stove in just a pair of sweatpants, his back turned to me. I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his naked torso.

“Good morning,” I said, kissing his cheek. “What are you making?”

“Just some bacon and eggs,” he responded. “I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.”

“You know I don’t sleep in enough for that to be possible, and I don’t like laying in bed for too long.”

Mark turned his head to meet my lips with his. “How did we end up together? We’re such different people.”

“Opposites attract baby.”

Mark smiled and turned to face me. In one quick motion, he lifted me onto the counter and stood between my legs. I giggled and kissed him deeply, holding his face in my hands as a way to keep him from pulling away.

We were so lost in one another that we didn’t notice the door opening, or the sound of a bag hitting the floor, until the voice that both of us dreaded to hear.

“What the fuck?!”

Mark jumped away from me in time to see Christian charging at him, murder present in his eyes. Mark quickly jumped out of the way and extended an arm to keep Christian at an arm’s length away.

“What the fuck were you doing to my sister?!” Christian snapped.

“Chill dude, we were just kissing!” Mark responded.

“Why was she kissing you?! Why is she here in just one of your shirts?!”

“Calm down, Christian,” I tried, pushing myself off of the counter to cover myself as much as I possibly could. “I stayed over the night.”

“But why?! And why with him?!”

He tried to lunge at Mark again, but this time I took hold of his arm and yanked him back. “Christian, fucking stop!”

“What has he said or done to make you want to kiss him and to stay the night with him?” Christian demanded. “What the fuck has he done to you?”

“Christian, shut the fuck up!” I felt myself shaking in rage and I just wanted to punch my older brother until he was unconscious. I guess we were more similar than I ever cared to admit.

My outburst surprised both my brother and my boyfriend. They both went silent, and for a moment Christian wasn’t even trying to kill Mark anymore.

“You’re so fucking controlling!” I said, airing out all the anger I had built up inside of me for so long. “I get that you want to be dad, I get that you’re trying to be ‘the man’, but holy fuck! I’m a fucking adult! I can date who I want, I can kiss who I want, I can fuck who I want! I don’t need you getting angry and intimidating every guy I date, Christian. I can’t be single forever you know.”

Christian glared at Mark once more before turning to face me. “I know that, (Y/N), but I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

“Do you know how much more it hurts when guys either ghost me or straight up tell me to my face that they’re too scared of you to date me?” I questioned. “Do you know how many guys told me that I wasn’t worth the hassle you gave them? I was hurt more by your protectiveness than I ever was by any guy.”

I saw a look pass over Christian’s face. I couldn’t tell exactly what it meant, but I knew there was a lot of information running through his head at that moment, a lot of things he had to process.

“And I know you don’t want me dating your best friend,” I continued before he could say anything else. “I know it’s like a violation of friend code or whatever the fuck guys have going on, and it’s weird and awkward. But I really do love Mark, and I know he loves me, too. You know Mark better than any guy I’ve ever tried to date, can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me he’s not a good fit for me?”

Christian looked over at Mark once more before turning back to me. “He is a fuckface.”

I giggled. “Yeah, I know that. But he’s a good fuckface.”

“One of the better ones,” Christian agreed. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I just...I thought that’s how I was supposed to act, you know?”

“I know, mom never told you any different. I think she just liked you trying to be the man of the house all the time because it meant she didn’t have to take up any extra responsibilities.”

Christian pulled me into a hug, something I don’t think he had ever done before. It was quite a shock to both me and to Mark.

“You can date whoever you want,” he said. “I promise I won’t kill...well I promise I won’t kill any other guy you may date. I have no promises about Mark.”

“I’ll take that,” I told him. “And I’m sorry you had to find out like...this.”

Christian looked between us, trying not to look at the parts that weren’t clothed I could tell. “Yeah...not the best way, but I’ll bleach my eyes when I get back to Dani’s.”

We all laughed as Christian went to get whatever he had come home for and left again, saying goodbye and apologizing once more before closing the door behind him.

“That went well,” I commented. I looked over to see Mark smiling at me. “What?”

“Did you mean what you said? That you love me?”

I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. In the heat of the moment, I let the big L word slip. Mark and I hadn’t said it to one another yet. We had only started dating mere months ago.

“I think so,” I admitted. “I feel things for you that I’ve never felt for anyone before. I...I think I do love you. Is that...is that weird to say?”

Mark wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. “Not at all. I think I love you, too.”

I smiled up at him and placed a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Don’t forget breakfast,” I whispered in his ear, nibbling on it gently before pulling away.

It took a moment for the lust to wash away after my small act for Mark to realize that breakfast was still on the pan cooking. I giggled as he quickly went to turn the stove off and check to make sure the food was still edible.

#mark #mark imagine #mark x reader #will poulter #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader #midsommar #midsommar imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

[moonbaby26]

Title: Epiphany

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. Finally back in the U.S., you and Peter get a mini shopping trip with the others, where you get a special gift for him. Followed by your ride back alone together to his house near D.C. and an abrupt introduction to his family.

Warnings: Mostly just more fluff. Bit of a dysfunctional family implied. Not proofread too well as I didn’t have much free time left and wanted to get this posted.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen , @ikkleroniekins , @cowboyenorgy , @the-chaotic-cow

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

You were groggy, legs stiff as you’d finally made it out of that plane. Honestly, when this was all said and done you’d be happy to not travel again for a very long time.

But the important thing was that you were home. Well, sort of. You were getting a lot closer anyway. McGuire air force base in New Jersey was bustling with activity as you’d all been shuffled around after landing.

Moira had said goodbye, staying here to work some more as it seemed this had become a temporary east coast operations point for more than just the air force. But she’d arranged it so you all could take a van off base together to find the nearest rental car lot.

Which that was when you really started feeling this was your last chance to inwardly practice whatever your speech was going to be to Xavier. You were going to volunteer to drive Peter home, splitting off from the others when they’d no doubt be heading north for New York.

The van hadn’t been the most comfortable thing in the world either as you’d all piled into it with Hank driving. Moira had told the Professor to just leave it after you all got something else rented, and that someone from the base would come and get it later.

Besides a little shared complaining from the group about being continually shoved into one thing after another lately, helicopters, to jets, to aircraft carriers, and now this, there wasn’t really too much said though. That silence likely somewhat due to jet lag as well. But when Xavier had signaled to Hank to stop after seeing a bank you were about to pass, that’s when Peter seemed to perk back up.

And by the time this older van had clunked its way into the parking lot and come to a stop, Peter was on the verge of fully laughing.

“What?” Ororo finally asked, Peter sitting between her and you both here in the back of the van.

“Nothing.” Peter respond just as quickly, though still seeming far too entertained as Raven had helped Xavier out of the van and back into his wheelchair before the two of them had gone inside the bank together.

You and Ororo just exchanged an odd glance, before Jean revealed the answer all too easily. “Peter thinks we’d make a terrible cast for a heist movie. He’s thinking about robbing the bank and imagining a poorly executed role for all of us.”

“Hey!” Peter complained. “You really don’t play fair. I think about a lot of things without actually do-”

“Seriously?” Scott asked, looking back at you all.

“Oh, come on. One eye beam and the vault would crack like an egg.” Peter retorted, “Do you guys not ever daydream?”

“About crime?” You questioned.

“I did give the kid his markers back didn’t I?” Peter asked.

“What kid?” Hank looked back as well.

“Oh, except this one.” Peter pulled out the dark blue marker that’d still been stashed in his pocket. “The kid still had a light blue one anyway. He’ll live. You guys need to sign my cast!”

—————————

The Professor had apparently recognized that bank as one he had some accounts with, and you’d assumed he had gone in to withdraw some spending money for the remainder of the trip.

But when Hank drove you all to a nearby department store next instead of continuing on straight to the rental car lot that had been the supposed goal the entire time, you were surprised. Even more so when the Professor had called for you, Jean, Kurt, and Ororo specifically.

“I know this isn’t much,” Charles explained, before passing each of the four of you a small amount of cash. “But the staff staying with the displaced students at the motel did already take them shopping for at least some bare necessities. You deserve the same until we can provide better.”

It was still entirely generous and unexpected though as you’d all exited the van, then fully understanding the point of this additional pit stop. With the destruction of the mansion, and with Ororo not even being from here, the four of you now had not a single possession to your names except the Air Force issued clothing you’d left the aircraft carrier with.

Scott and Peter were a little bit different story, Scott was expected to go back home with his parents for a while and no doubt everything he still had there, and Peter having lost nothing really except the one outfit that had burnt up in the jet’s crash in Egypt.

But you knew a little better of how he felt about that, not missing the way Peter was already eyeing things as the two of you had split off from the rest of the group once entering the department store.

Your only real goal was at least getting a comfortable pair of tennis shoes to replace the awful boots they’d given you and a couple pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, socks, and underwear. Just the very minimum, that was fine for you.

You tried to be quick, knowing it was still a little unfair to make Peter just watch you shop when he could take nothing for himself. Albeit, you doubted much here was really his style anyway.

You did half expect him to give you a harder time as well on your own choices, but found him quite distracted as you’d walked back and forth looking at one rack then another of clothes.

Finally you realized why, catching him still lingering at a glass display case you’d already passed more than once as you then circled back to him with a bit of clothing in your arms.

As you came up to stand beside him, you looked down to see the multiple men’s watches all glinting up in the light from beneath the glass.

You smiled, putting two and two together easily enough as you glanced back to him and that clearly longing expression on his face. “Which one do you like?”

He blinked, just seeming to realize your attention was back on him then as he tried to look nonchalant. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m not going to steal it if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

“It’s what Mr. Smiley over there, the store detective was thinking.” Peter commented a little more quietly, just motioning his eyes to a man standing off to the side.

The man didn’t look “smiley” at all of course, appearing to consider the same display of pants over and over as he’d pick one size up and then put it back down as if he wasn’t watching you both.

You chose to ignore the stranger, just reiterating back to Peter instead. “Come on, which one do you want?”

You could see by the tags that they weren’t exactly cheap, but certainly weren’t Rolex’s either. This was doable.

But Peter only met eyes with you again. “Seriously, I can get one later. I’ll live.”

His old watch had been destroyed. And you hadn’t forgotten what importance it had to him. “That wasn’t the point.” Already deciding you were sure about this, you dug back into your pocket, pulling out money and putting it on the glass in front him.

“I’m going to go put some of these clothes back, get somebody’s attention to come open the case for you.”

He stared, trying to turn around to stop you, but you were already out of his reach as you smiled, just disappearing back behind some nearby clothing racks.

You intentionally took longer than necessary as well as you did put back enough of the clothes to make up for the money you’d given him. You wanted to make sure he really did follow through with having them get one of the watches out before you’d come anywhere near again.

It took a while, but he must have finally relented, unable to resist the temptation, and reinforcing your thought that he really had seen one he especially wanted as you’d finally wandered over once more just as the saleswoman had been handing it over to him.

She rang it up then and there at the counter as he’d immediately put it on that empty spot on his left wrist.

Curious, you’d tried to get a better look at which one he’d picked, moving closer before he suddenly swung his right arm out, catching you around the shoulders and pulling you even closer even with the awkwardness of his crutch still under that arm.

You felt a warm kiss planted just as fast on your cheek before you could respond. The saleswoman giving you both an odd look as Peter only grinned to you. “Thanks, babe. I’ll make it up to you at some point. Promise.”

You moved slightly, not really caring about the money or the stares of any of the store staff as you still tried to get a look at the watch, grabbing his hand. “Well which one did you get?”

He let you take his hand easily, grasping his fingers around your own in return as he tilted his wrist to let you get a good view. “Check it out, digital face, but it counts seconds and hundredths of a second. And you can change it to stopwatch mode too. Also water resistant to 100 meters...though not quite sure when I’d need that.”

“Jean said the motel the others were staying at has a pool,” You commented lightly, though still looking at the bright, silver colored metal watch band and face. “Quicksilver.” You added absently, reading the model name also etched there.

He paused, “What did you say?”

“Oh, the pool? Jean said the Professor mentioned that, though he still is looking for some place less rundown-”

“No, what you said after.”

“Huh?” You glanced back up.

“Quick what?”

“Oh.” You realized, turning your hand which was still holding his so the etching would better face him as well. “That must be the model.”

He must have not even noticed until that point, also reading it then. But he pulled you in even a little closer then as he leaned his head against yours, seeming to contemplate something.

“What?” You asked.

“I think I just had a...hell, what do you call them? Epitaph?”

Your eyebrows raised, looking at him in real confusion then. “Um...like on a gravestone?”

“No, no.” He was still trying to find the word. “Dammit, when the light bulb goes off you know...like something hits you and it’s awesome!”

“Epiphany?” You questioned after another moment, though still highly unsure of where this was going.

“Yes! Totally!” He let go of your hand then, before giving an awkward high five as you hadn’t been expecting it.

But you were still thoroughly confused, even as the saleswoman had now excused herself, gladly wandering off to assist other customers. And even the store detective just coughed somewhere in the distance, finding you both no longer a theft threat as much as just just two more weird young people he was not going to ever understand.

——————————

If anyone noticed that the amount of things you rang up were visibly less than what Jean, Ororo, and Kurt had gotten, no one said anything.

Soon enough you were all back in the van again, but Peter kept admiring the watch still. The odd beep and chime going off on it every now and then as he played with its functions.

It was evident enough, that even the Professor finally looked back at him. Which Peter noticed as well just grinning. “I didn’t steal it.” He proclaimed proudly.

“I know you didn’t,” Xavier answered, but then giving you an odd look next.

You tried to smile back, but weren’t sure if this might now be the time to bring up your plan or not with the Professor’s attention on you. Yet before you could think to say anything more, Peter just added happily. “Oh, and Prof., if you do reboot the X-Men, I’m Quicksilver. So I call dibs on that, the rest of you will have to think of your own stuff. Though I’m pretty creative, I can help for maybe a small fee if you need inspiration.”

“Seriously?” You answered, just turning your head to look at Peter then.

But you were even more surprised when Xavier actually looked impressed for a moment. “Quicksilver? Hmm. An old nickname for liquid mercury. Which of course in the Roman pantheon, Mercury was also the god of trickery, thieves, and often depicted with wings on his feet as the fastest of the gods. He-”

“Uh.” Peter interrupted. “I was more thinking that my hair is silver and I’m quick. Also this badass watch (Y/N) bought me says that on it. But that god stuff is cool too I guess.”

You heard Raven about snort laughing as the Professor’s thoughtful expression quickly faded. “Fair enough.”

—————————

By the time you did reach the rental car lot, you tried to get Xavier’s attention before he could go inside the rental office with Raven. You almost jogged up to him actually, that worried about missing your chance.

Yet as you reached him, you saw him wave Raven off, telling her he would be just a moment. She only shrugged, walking ahead inside.

Before you could even open your mouth though, he just gave you another curious look. “You know, for all your worrying about this, it’s the ride home that I’m more concerned about. You realize from Washington D.C. back to New York, that’s going to be about a five hour drive all on your own.”

You don’t know why you felt any surprise. Honestly it was more of a relief though that you didn’t have to explain everything from scratch. Having a psychic as a father figure had its benefits at times, if otherwise you felt you would have difficulty communicating something.

“I promise I’ll call as soon as I get to Peter’s and again when I leave?” You offered with hope.

“I’d really feel better if you had one of the others to ride back with...” He countered, but giving a sympathetic look. “You know, of all my students, I just...you really are one of the last I’d expect to befriend him this way. And I say that with me actually being quite fond of him. Though admittedly I did think him just a pain in the arse when I first met him. I didn’t have my powers then though to see any deeper. So it wasn’t the best first impression to be honest.”

You both glanced over at Peter who now seemed preoccupied with playing with those stolen sunglasses as he just chatted with the others. He’d agreed to let you plea the case to Xavier on your own, thinking you could probably be the more sincere and convincing of the two of you.

“I think he’d really like to come to the school once everything’s rebuilt,” You added, looking back to the Professor.

“Yes, I know.” Xavier agreed. “He’s really hit it off with you all. He’s enjoyed this despite everything else. It’s nice to see, really. Though...I do still worry about the inevitably of his father returning. There will still be a lot to unpack there. And Erik may not want him at the school as much as Erik’s always disagreed with some of my worldviews.”

You frowned a little, having not thought about Magneto in quite a while now. “If he cares about Peter at all though, you’d think he’d realize it’d be better for him to be somewhere he had friends. Where he’s happy...”

“One would hope.” Xavier answered, but then looking to you once more. “You’re sure about this aren’t you? Determined to make the drive back alone?”

“I mean, if anyone tried to give me trouble, I could always use my powers.” Yet you still smirked, parroting his teaching you’d heard for years. “But still as discreetly as possible of course.”

He took a breath, that concern still not leaving his expression even as he relented. “You have come a long way since that little child I met all those years ago.”

“I wasn’t that little.” You smiled, knowing full well which day he was remembering. When you’d been sitting, feeling abandoned in that airport as your real father had been explaining again this place you were being sent to in New York. Saying he’d call you all the time once you got there, all the while you knew he never would.

That’d been the first day you’d ever met Charles. When your own family was too afraid of you, when they were far happier to have you move across the country. But Xavier had flown all the way there just to share the plane ride back to New York, with your stubborn, silent self.

Abruptly you leaned down, putting your arms around the Professor’s shoulders as you hugged him. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” You said, knowing full well how close you all had come to losing him only a few days ago.

He laughed lightly, but returned the gesture even though he was a little surprised. “Or you’re just happy to get your way. Do be careful alright? Both of you.”

“I promise. Thank you.” You smiled, really meaning it before you let go of him to stand back up.

As you did so, you could see Peter looking your way. He gave a questioning expression, then turning his thumb down then up as if to ask the results.

You smirked, nodding as him thumb went up to confirm the Professor had agreed with your plan.

“Sweet!” You heard Peter exclaim from all the way over there.

————————

Xavier had given you the phone number to the motel in New York that the others were driving to. They’d gotten another van, though thankfully a little newer than the beaten up government one they were now leaving behind.

A car had been rented for you and Peter. A blazing red thing you now leaned against as you waited for him. You’d already said your goodbyes, which were pretty brief as you expected to see the others again soon.

You were still close enough to overhear as Peter got to Scott however. It caught your attention as you’d heard Peter’s tone change.

“Hey, man...I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t get your brother out.”

It was the first time you’d heard Peter talk about that specifically with Scott. But when would have been the right time?

Yet Peter kept on pretty quickly, the awkwardness obviously still there even with that hint of guilt. “If um, if I lived closer you know, or I wasn’t in this damn thing-” He’d motioned to his cast. “I’d run up there and go to the service too. I mean, I know how important siblings are...”

Scott seemed a little taken aback himself, but shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. None of it would have happened if it wasn’t for that psycho god, whatever we want to call him. And he got his. It’s all we can do.”

You could hear the little bit of waver in Scott’s voice though, and you knew the sad reality would likely be that it still wouldn’t fully hit him that Alex was truly gone until Scott was back home with his parents, and his brother was glaringly absent.

But Peter just patted him on the shoulder before walking back to you on his crutches.

His eyes were still a bit sad, but he smiled at you as he neared you. “Well, ready for a roadtrip, babe?”

“They gave us a road atlas, so I think so.” You answered, already walking to open the passenger door for him.

“Ah, maps are for suckers.” He answered, handing you his crutches so he could sit down in the seat. “Sure, it’ll look way different going so slow, but I have an excellent sense of direction.”

“Uh huh,” You responded with a healthy bit of skepticism. “We’ll see.”

—————————

“So...we’re finally alone.” Peter said, still snacking on whatever brightly colored candy that actually was that you’d grabbed from the gas station for him.

“Sure, and going seventy miles an hour on the interstate, while I need to keep my hands on the wheel and eyes on the road to not kill us, yes.” You answered.

“It’s practically a straight line, it about drives itself.” He responded, but while just fiddling with the radio for the umpteenth time.

Every time a station went to commercial, it was clear he couldn’t handle the wait for the music to come back, only trying to find something else to listen to right away.

You finally laughed a little as he’d accidentally found some other talk show yet again.

“What?”

“I’m waiting for that dial to fall off in your hand.”

“Man, you think one of these gas stations has some cassettes or something?”

“I have no idea.”

“Hey, are you hungry yet?”

You shrugged. “I could probably eat.” The bit of food on the plane had been pretty awful. You hadn’t even finished it.

“I need to pee anyway.”

“Again?” You glanced at him. “That’s gotta be the Mountain Dew.”

“Oh yeah, that’s all gone.” He shook his empty cup, just the sound of ice jostling around in it. “I’m thinking Dr. Pepper now...and a cheeseburger. Maybe McDonalds?”

“Sure.” It really didn’t matter to you. All those fast food places were all about the same. “Golden Arches it is then...let me know if you see an exit with one and I’ll-”

“There was one.” He pointed as it went right by.

“Um...one with a little more notice please.”

“Got it. I’m on watch, captain.” He gave a little mocking salute, before pulling his sunglasses back down as if that would somehow help his focus as he stared out to all the upcoming exit signs ahead.

——————————

He was adamant about going inside to eat instead of just going through the drive thru once you did find the next McDonalds. You wondered if he was trying to stretch out your time together a little more.

Which you would have no complaints if so, now laughing as you sat at a table inside. You’d seen the odd looks an older couple had given you as they’d come in, and Peter was fairly certain it was due to his silver hair.

“I mean I could always try a mohawk, full on punk if they think this is too weird,” He commented, pulling some of the silver bangs back in front his face as he chewed on some fries. “I still think Ororo’s is badass, but I don’t know if I have the right head shape for it. What do you think?”

“What head shape is a person supposed to have?” You asked, seriously not knowing, but still smiling.

“Of course even the best hair gel doesn’t hold up too well when I run. It probably wouldn’t stay up long.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey, are you even listening to me or just admiring the view?” He grinned in what you were sure was supposed to be his attempt at a dashing look, albeit with a little bit of ketchup still at the corner of his mouth.

“Can’t I do both?” You answered wryly, just taking another sip of your drink.

“You gonna stay for a little bit after we get to my house?” He asked abruptly then.

“Well I wasn’t planning on just throwing you in the yard and driving away. But it is a decent drive back to New York.”

“You could spend the night.”

You quieted, that warmth rising back in your chest. But you didn’t think he meant it that way. You chose to believe that anyway.

“Well it’s not like we haven’t slept together before.” He continued.

“Slept in the same bed.” You quickly corrected. “In the same bed. With clothes on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Semantics. And it was nice, right?”

“It was.” You admitted. But that didn’t mean the chance was going to come again anytime soon. “And semantics? Really? After trying to remember the difference between epitaph and epiphany?”

“Hey! I shine every now and then. It’s not always a swing and a miss.” He gave a pretend pouting look. “Fancy private schooler picking on a poor high school dropout, come on.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll have much reason to study anytime soon.” You admitted. “This was a really dramatic way to get out of my organic chemistry final.”

And he really did look pleased at that. “So you’ll have plenty of time to hang out with the bad influence that is Pietro once I get this cast off. You said that place had a pool right? Sounds like a party.”

—————————

Traffic hadn’t been too terrible the rest of the way. And you’d only gotten turned around a couple times, despite his self proclaimed excellent sense of direction.

Even though you knew it’d been hours, it didn’t feel that way at all. You both mostly just talking about whatever, or even when it was quiet, just listening to the music he chose.

It wasn’t all even rock music to your surprise. He seemed to like just about everything. But when you recognized a song as a favorite of your own, you did notice how his excitement grew a little. You wondered how often if at all he’d really gotten to share that love of music with anyone else.

By the time you’d gotten off the interstate again and the roads started to get smaller and smaller, you knew you must be getting close even before you started to see houses here and there.

“Hey, woah up for a second,” He said raising his hand abruptly.

You did so, but only gently pulling to a stop on the side of the street to not block any other traffic as you looked over at him.

Not that there were any other cars. You thought maybe you saw someone walking their dogs in the distance.

But he didn’t say anything for a moment, just taking his sunglasses off again as he turned his head to meet your gaze.

“What?” You asked as another song started on the radio. It was slow, but you thought you’d heard it somewhere before.

“It’s just around the corner.” He looked almost sad for a moment though, before suddenly smiling again. “My house I mean. You’re going to come inside, right?”

“Well...yeah, as long as that’s okay with your Mom anyway.” But even as you answered, a new bit of nervousness found you. What if she blamed you when she saw he’d been hurt though? Would she think you or your friends were dangerous? You’d never thought of that until this moment actually.

You blinked when you felt his hand touch your face, drawn back out of your thoughts as that song continued on in the background.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked then.

But you just tilted your head slightly in question. It’s not like he’d ever truly asked before. Though you could never really tease someone for wanting continued permission.

And was he nervous too? Knowing he was about to be home again and that this would be over, at least for the time being?

You unbuckled your seatbelt easily enough, leaning across the center console as he did the same.

The kiss was soft though as you closed your eyes. His hand moved gently behind your neck as he held you in close. It felt just as good as the times before.

But you knew there wasn’t much more either of you could do now. You both had to go home.

He was the one that finally pulled back, just looking at you contentedly for a moment before he shifted fully back into his seat.

“You know, my Mom’s going to think I’m full of shit if I say I made any friends...and more than a friend too.”

“You can call me whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with,” you said honestly. It’d just be easier, because you didn’t know what was right or wrong either.

Whatever happened, you were just grateful for what you’d already had. How could you not be?

—————————

The black mailbox with Maximoff lettered on the side came up soon enough as you pulled carefully into the driveway, before throwing the transmission into park and killing the ignition.

It was a neat little house, with hedges on the side of the property line and some white patio furniture you could just see up a small incline with decorative stones leading up to it.

The house was also directly across from a public green space with jogging or walking paths weaving between several trees it looked like. Which was a little amusing as you wondered if Peter ever used them.

After you’d gotten out, you rounded around the back of the car, pulling Peter’s crutches from the backseat. He’d already opened the passenger door and stood up as well, before you realized the front door of the house was also opening.

“Peter!” You heard a woman call, and you looked up to see a little bit older woman with dark blond hair now rushing down the steps.

Her arms flung around him as soon as she got close enough, holding him like that for only a moment before she pulled back away. “They wouldn’t tell me anything! Those assholes in the suits, whoever they were! They wouldn’t even tell me where you were-” She looked down, “God, your leg, are you hurt anywhere else?” But then just as quickly her eyes were on his face again, critically, “He did it, didn’t he? I told you! I told you he would hurt you and you don’t listen, this whole time I haven’t slept, do you know that!?”

“Mom!” Peter finally exclaimed, trying to get a word in, as he grabbed her shoulders. “They were CIA, I just told them to tell you I was okay. It hasn’t exactly been a breeze getting back home, this was the best I could do. And it wasn’t Dad, he didn’t-”

“Like hell! Did you see San Francisco? Did you see New York City!? Buildings ripped apart, Peter! Who else could do that!? It’s all the news can talk about, he-”

“It wasn’t just him! Would you just listen for-”

“You could have been killed!” She yelled, her voice almost echoing now off the side of the house as you just stood there still holding his crutches.

You felt entirely invisible to be honest as the two of them just continued, only focused on one another in their arguing.

It was so loud actually that you didn’t even hear someone else then walking up behind you from the park across the street. You didn’t know they were there at all before their voice was almost right beside you.

“Who are you?”

You startled at the question, turning your head to see a young woman now standing there. Her eyes were dark and guarded, the very first thing you noticed honestly as you reflexively took a step back closer to the car.

“Wanda! You’re here!” You heard Peter’s voice rise again though. “A little help here please!”

But Peter’s mother only kept on. “You leave your sister out of this! She’s not the one that ran off after a sociopath and disappeared for days!”

“He’s our father!” He yelled back.

Yet the girl with the long auburn hair kept her attention on you for another moment. “Well whoever you are, you’re probably going to regret coming here.”

You could only remain silent though after that as she just walked on to her mother and brother.

She hugged Peter abruptly, working her way between the two even in their fighting. “I knew you were alright. I could still feel you, even though Mom didn’t believe me. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t an idiot.”

Peter seemed to calm some at Wanda’s touch though, just responding. “You have no idea. I punched a god in the face. It’s a long story.”

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here.)

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