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#so i took an old one i never got rid of that i stopped taking because of the side effects. i was so desperate
skywalker42 · 7 months
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What people think ADHD is:
So I went to my room to grab sticky notes to leave my roommate a reminder on the dryer but then I saw my week old mug on my nightstand so I went to put it away and then when I was in the kitchen I realized there's no room for it in the cabinet and now I'm measuring the wall for shelving units.
Which, yeah, it is that. It's definitely that. But it's also this series of texts I sent to my friend this morning:
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moonlightazriel · 3 months
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When no one hears your calls /// Eris X F!Reader
Summary: When the unbearable feelings of her mate start to mess with her life, Y/N decides to put an ending to their misery.
Warnings: Torture and abuse, Beron being the bastard he is.
Word Count: 3K
Notes: Yeah, i missed writing for my baby Eris. And I'm warning in advance that reader is Azriel's sister and he's mated to Gwyn in this, so please, if you don't stan Gwynriel, scroll past it.
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She weeped, the feelings flooding her chest too overwhelming to keep controlled. It started with small waves of anxiety, increasing to pure agony, pain erupted through her chest. She tried to keep the tears from spilling, but now she sobbed, broken pleas for it to stop leaving from her parted chapped lips. 
“Tell me what’s wrong, let me make it stop.” Azriel begged his sister. Holding her broken frame in between his arms.
“It hurts so much Az, it’s not fair.” She managed to speak in between the sobs that got more hysterical. The shadowsinger just held her tighter, seeing her in such distress broke him, she has always been his greatest weakness. 
“Here, take this.” Gwyn offered, her warm hands holding a mug towards the female. “It will help you sleep.” Azriel nodded to his mate, taking the mug from his hands and bringing it to his sister’s lips. He forced the content down her throat, watching as the tea slowly worked, her body relaxed and the tears stopped and she fell asleep against him.
“Thank you.” He said, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring grip. Azriel grabbed Y/N, taking her to the guest bedroom that Gwyn had set for her, placing her sleeping form carefully on the bed. The red headed female grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the living room again.
“I don’t understand.” He breathed. “She has had these episodes since the High Lord’s meeting, it doesn’t make any sense.” 
“Maybe she’s sick?” Gwyn suggested and Azriel shrugged. 
“I took her to Madja, and she’s been as healthy as ever. There’s nothing wrong with her besides that.” He looked towards the room, to the shadows guarding his sister as she finally rested. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll find a solution Az, I know that.” Gwyn smiled at him, and he pulled the female for a hug. 
“I pray to the Mother that you’re right.” She kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her love soothe his heart. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
Whenever an episode approached, it always had small signs indicating it, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, the rapid breathing and the dizziness like someone hit her in the head with full strength.
She hated that she worried her family so much, but not every time she was able to control how her body would react to it. It angered her how they would look at her with such pained expressions, how much Azriel wanted to help and she didn’t even knew how to ask for his help. 
So everyday, Gwyn would take her to the library and she would search the cause of her troubles, her nose glued to the pages for hours until her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She never felt such agony, only when her half brothers and her father ripped her wings from her back, making a small cut and pulling it until the skin gave up and she blacked out due to the blood loss. 
It was Azriel shadows who helped them, sneaking supplies to their cell until they could get rid of the infection that almost killed her and healed his hands. She was glad for them and her brother, they saved her. She always tried to be as less of a burden as possible to not worry Azriel, but now she knew he was distressed about her situation, so she wanted to fix it, for her and for him. 
Shadows gathered in a corner caught her attention, she got up, despite not being able to hear them, they always tended to her and her needs. As she approached the shelf, the shadows disappeared, leaving only a copy of an old dusty book behind. She pulled the book out, blowing the dust off, sneezing a bit in the process. Allergic just like Cassian. 
She plopped herself in her seat again, scanning the book cover, no name, no nothing, this sparked her curiosity. She opened the book, in a fancy handwriter she could read “MATING BONDS: The complete guide for the matters of the heart.” She smiled at the title. 
Just like her brother, she was sometimes too shy to ask about things. Besides having her past lovers, mating bonds are something she was never that curious about. So she sat there, reading the whole thing with attention. If the shadows thought this book would help, she was sure it would. 
“Sometimes, strong feelings can leak through a one sided bond. And the other mate can feel it just as clearly as they would if the bond was shared by both mates.” That passage stuck with her, and she organised the books back on the shelf as she saw Gwyn approaching. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
“How do we know if the bond snapped or not?” She blurted at the dinner table, the eyes of the inner circle turning to her.
“Well, it’s different for everyone and you would mostly just know.” Rhys said, looking at the female, the three Illyrians treated her like they were her brothers as well. So, the three have been looking for ways to help their little sister to get rid of those episodes. 
“What if the bond had snapped for me and I just didn’t know it was it?” She inquired again and Azriel turned to his sister, his shadows stopping to look at her curiously. 
“Do you think you found your mate?” He asked, eyebrow raised, who she thought she was mated to?
“I found this book that said that feelings can leak through the bond.” The couples nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, it’s very common.” Feyre replied.
“That’s the only explanation for what’s happening to me.” They all stopped for a second. “These emotions are not mine, but they’re strong enough for me to feel it.” Suddenly it all made sense.
“I pity your mate then.” Nesta said with sincerity, whoever it was, was going through great pain for her to feel it so intensely. 
“Me too.” Feyre agreed. “But as for the bond, you can feel like a tug in your soul, like no one else matters to you anymore besides that person.” The High Lady concluded. 
“Do you think you ever felt like this?” Elain asked and the female nodded.
“Yeah, I think I have.” 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
She couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with too many memories to rest. But one in particular caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that memory until she could see it clearly.
“I didn’t know the Night Court had such beauties by their side.” His voice purred, and she turned around to see the well dressed autumn male. He had a smirk adorning his lips, his hair slicked back, leaving a clear view of his face.
“The autumn males aren’t that bad either.” She sheepishly replied, eyes glued to his amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was a dangerous male, as her family had alerted her, but what a beautiful disaster he was. Stealing her breath away and making her lose all of her focus.
“If you ever give me the pleasure of your company, I'll show you how bad we can be.” He winked at her, leaving her standing still in the hallway. It was Nesta who found her, looking at nothing, frozen in place as her chest sparkled with life, like she was taking her first breath of fresh air after getting out of her father’s dungeon. As she was finally free. 
She kicked the covers away from her body, not caring about her clothing as she winnowed away. It was him, he was what was troubling her so much. She just needed to ask him to stop whatever this was and she would go back to normal. The shadows covered her as she sneaked through the Autumn Manor. 
Everything was pitch black, and she just followed the shadows, taking her to the only illuminated room. She pushed the door open, spotting Eris by the bed, looking in a small mirror as he stitched a very ugly wound in his chest. His eye was purple and his lips were bruised. 
“Who did this to you?” She breathed, her hands shaking in anger, how could someone do it to another being? She saw how cruel people could be and she dedicated her time to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. 
“What are you doing here?” He asked startled, dropping the mirror from his hands and wincing in pain. Surprised to see her there, and even more curious to know why she was there.
“I came here to talk to you.” She walked closer to her. “Here, let me help you.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards her, what was happening? She picked the needle from his hands, her warm skin brushing against his, it was a nice feeling. He didn’t say anything as her soft touch rested against his heart, while her other hand worked on closing the wound.
She finished the stitches, reaching for the bowl of water, taking the cloth and with one hand she lifted his chin, eyes locked together for a second. She started to work on the dried blood that smeared across his lips and nose. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and letting her take care of him. 
“What do you want to talk about that was so important that you invaded my room in the middle of the night?” He watched as she got away from him, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of his room. She pulled her legs close to her chest. 
“I wanted you to stop.” He leaned forward.
“Stop what exactly?” She took a deep breath.
“With your overwhelming feelings, it’s been a fucking trouble to me. But you’re clearly going through something, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Eris sneered.
“Why would I ever seek your help?” He watched as she got up, her expression serious as she held the doorknob. 
“Because who’s better to help you than your own mate?” And with that she left. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
Mate. 
Mate.
Mate.
She was his mate. Her words got caught in his mind, she had no reason to lie to him. But he also had no reasons to believe her, he just did. He chose to believe that the female who came to him in the middle of the night and showed him more kindness than his own flesh and blood was telling the truth.
So when another round of torture was over, he winnowed to her house, he had memorized the address she had sent to him. He could barely hold himself together, so he almost collapsed on top of her as she opened the door. She looked like she had been crying as he managed to take a look at her face, and he wondered if it was his emotions that led to that.
“I didn’t know where else to come, and I didn't want to be alone.” She didn’t laugh nor mocked him, she just nodded and left the room. He could hear her, moving around in a hidden room, he wondered if she regretted offering him shelter. 
All the doubts died down in his throat when she came back, leaning to help him stand, guiding the way towards a bathroom. She sat him in her toilet and helped him out of his clothes. He sank in the water, trying to ignore the fact that he had to be naked in front of her, she looked like she was trying her best to ignore it as well.
“I put some numbing herbs, to help with the pain.” He nodded, feeling very thankful for her kindness. “And I have some of Azriel’s clothes here if you don’t mind. Yours are very dirty and could infect your wounds.”
“I would like that, thank you.” She nodded, getting out of the room and only appearing again to drop the clothes. Eris sighed, feeling his body relax and his wounds starting to close. As the water got cold, he got out. He felt weird wearing the Shadowsinger’s clothes but nothing about this situation was usual for him. 
“I figured you’re probably hungry.” She placed a plate in front of him, no one had ever taken that much care of him before. “I didn’t cook it, Feyre told me it's a way of accepting the bond.” She smiled and he could swear that all the pain and sadness was lifted from his chest with that bright smile directed to him. 
“Yeah, we don’t want you accepting this bond by accident.” Why would she want to accept a life tied to him?
“Yeah, we have to get to know each other first.” She giggled, taking a bite of her own food. “You don’t even know my favourite colour!” Eris laughed, feeling the sound reverberate through his chest, how long it was since he truly laughed with someone? 
“Do you plan on accepting?” He asked, testing the waters.
“To be honest, I think about it, but as I said. First we get to know each other, we think about the bond later.” Eris nodded. 
“Does your family know?” He dared to ask, assuming that they didn’t, or else Azriel would have already threatened him. 
“They do!” He looked at her in shock. “They weren’t happy at first, but they respect my choice.” 
“Did you tell them?” He gestured towards himself and her smile faded.
“Your secret is safe with me, it’s not my story to tell.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Thank you, for everything.” She smiled again.
“Nothing to thank me for.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.
“I have everything to thank you for, you just don’t know it.” They finished the meal and she got up to do the dishes, he quickly pushed her away. “It’s the least I can do.” She nodded.
“I’ll get the guest room ready for you then.” That night Eris slept like he hadn't slept in ages, soaking in the comfort of her home and her affection. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
Her fingers started to shake, and that wave of anxiety came, as overwhelming as ever, it has been a whole month that she didn’t feel it, but Eris still came up to her beaten every week, she knew he was holding back his pain for her. But today, it was just as unbearable as it was when he didn’t know about it.
She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the table. The dinner went nicely, everyone engaged in conversations and smiling. She couldn’t ruin it, not again. But it was too late, as tears started to stream down her face.
“Are you okay?” Gwyn asked. Concern lacing her delicate features. Y/N shook her head, a scream ripping past her lips and scaring the whole family, Azriel was by her side in a second, tending to her. 
“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t pain that filled her veins tonight, it was anger. The house shook with her power. She screamed in rage, if she didn’t act now, he was going to get killed. She grabbed the truth teller away from her brother.
“This ends tonight.” She announced before she winnowed away. The pain guided her, towards mouldy walls and putrid floors, the smell of blood making the air rancid. 
He groaned, the pointy blade opening his flesh as it was dragged across his skin. He tried to hold back his pain but it was too much tonight, the ash in the weapon making everything more painful. He tried to hang on for her, for the life he wanted to have with her, for everything they haven’t lived yet. But it was too painful to keep going. 
The cell door was forced open, with unruly hair, wet and red cheeks, holding a blade in her hands, his guardian angel came. The blade being pushed into Beron’s neck, blood splattering against her face. She pushed the blade to the side, Beron’s head being detached from his neck, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor. 
“Hey! Open your eyes.” She demanded, kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in between her hands, and in that moment, the bond in his chest sang with life, welcoming her unmistakable love for him. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
The first thing he saw was the black curtains of her guest room. And the looming presence of the Shadowsinger himself, watching him intently. His body didn’t hurt anymore, all that was left was the warming feeling of the bond alongside his soul. 
“Where is she?” He asked, sitting straight up in bed, his muscles felt tingly from being in the same position for long.
“She’s out in town, getting some things.” Azriel sat in the chair facing the bed. “How are you feeling, Eris?” True concern filled his voice.
“I’m fine, she saved me.” He could never forget this.
“Use this gift she gave you to make her the happiest female alive.” Azriel said, and Eris knew this was the closest of his blessing he would ever get. “Keep her safe.”
“With my life.” The male promised. A door opened somewhere and her soothing voice filled the room.
“I’m home!” She announced, and it took her a few minutes to go to his room, pushing the door open, she watched him. Blinking the tears before rushing to him, jumping on top of him. He held her, and he felt  her lips pressed on his. His heart beated faster, as he retributed her kiss.
“Hey, stop that, that’s gross.” Azriel groaned, and she parted their kiss, laughing to her brother from Eris’s lap.
“You’re no fun.” She complained, showing him his middle finger. He rolled his eyes and left the room. “What do we do now?” She asked, but Eris didn’t want to think about the chaos that awaited for him at home, so he looked her in the eyes, sending all the love he could down the bond and asked.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
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ch3rry-wink · 3 months
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Even in Death
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Pairing: curse!Yūta x f!reader
Summary: Yūta has returned from the grave just for you.
CW: +18, murder, yandere Yūta, slight gore, obsession, blood, stalking, smut, co-dependency?
Author's note: I've read a lot of Yūta and I wanted to write something too
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If you had known the implications of killing your boyfriend that night, you might have stayed still as he criticized you for that letter you wrote months before you became a couple, confessing your love to someone else. But no, in a fit of rage, you decided to thrust that kitchen knife into his chest and then dispose of his body by burying it in an empty lot.
The police had come a couple of times asking questions; you lied and made sure to lie convincingly. Getting rid of them was easy.
On the other hand, getting rid of the entity that resembled your boyfriend would be a greater challenge. Three days after the incident, a figure began following you, and people seemed oblivious to its presence. A week later, the entity took shape and appeared before you – a more lifeless version of your boyfriend.
He stayed with you, coiling around your body, sometimes feeling him groping you. When he wasn't on top of you, he lurked in corners, staring at you intently. Nights became sleepless, hearing the sound of his nails on any surface, pulling your blankets, and if he was in a good mood, he would cuddle with you.
Mornings were a hassle too; he found it amusing to make you struggle to find your things, causing you to be late.
Nowhere and with no one were you safe. This was confirmed during a night out with friends when the entity whispered a command in your ear, threatening harm if someone didn't remove their hand from you.
Terrified, you left the place, locked yourself in a bathroom, and his head appeared under the cubicle door in an unnatural position.
"Leave me alone!" you screamed. "No, you'll always be mine," the entity slid under and stood in front of you. "You'll never be with anyone else; I'll kill anyone who gets close to you."
"Yūta, I'm sorry."
"Save those crocodile tears," he approached your neck and kissed you from the collarbones to your ear. "You didn't look very sad when you left me in that field that night."
"Is that what you want, a confession? I'll do it if it means you'll leave me alone."
"And how does that benefit me? I want you to be mine like in the old times." The thought disgusted you.
You broke free from his grip and ran to the subway. He followed, sat next to you, and began touching you everywhere. The announcement for your stop came, and you walked through dark streets. Some guys approached, and unsurprisingly, Yūta intervened, blood and guts at your feet – he had always been protective.
Back home, you rushed to the small altar your parents had set up in honor of Yūta. Seeking comfort and wisdom in prayers, but Yūta was guiding the situation, hands on your breasts, lips kissing your neck.
"Fine, we'll be together," he got excited, wanting to take everything right there. He was no longer bound to behave; it was just a hungry curse for you and resentment.
He lunged at you, you fell, and he held your hands over your head. Your eyes filled with tears. Despite the hatred, his love was greater, wanting you to desire him, enjoy him as when he was alive, not just a curse to annoy you.
So he was gentle, caressing your body adoring every part of it with small, slow kisses, gently removing your clothes.
You gasped when his fingers finally found their way to your panties and he moved them aside, made perfect circles over your clit and your hips lifted towards him as you felt his fingers enter, you missed this sensation, missed him - the version that was a sweet guy, not the jealous Yūta, and certainly not the cursed Yūta.
You ran your hands through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, he followed your kiss and his fingers kept curling inside you at that sensitive spot that would bring you to the end, yet he stopped leaving you there halfway to orgasm.
"I want you to beg for me." He stood up, and you did the same; your body was tense, and you were angry.
"Please, Yūta," you used that little voice when you wanted to manipulate him into doing something; however, it didn't work, and you approached him, following the swirl button shape, and began unbuttoning one by one.
Curse Yūta was very thin, almost bony. You touched his collarbones and then descended to do the same with his ribs, while kissing his neck, your hands reached his pants, and you heard them fall.
He was holding back, playing hard to get, wanting to see how far you'd go to have him. Then, you knelt in front of him, ready to give him pleasure; he stopped you.
"Tell me what you want" he towered over you, looking down with his sad, lifeless eyes.
"I want you... Please don't leave, stay with me, I need you," you said between sobs.
"I wasn't planning on leaving, I'll always be with you," he reassured you. "I promised to always take care of you, but now I need to feel you," he said as you nodded in agreement."
You lay back on the floor, offered yourself to him by spreading your legs, removing your panties and running your fingers through your wet folds indicating you were ready just for him. He directed his cock towards your needy pussy, and began to move it over your folds teasing you and how needy you were. A growl came from his throat as he began to slide his length inch by inch inside you, he stood there not moving just waiting, feeling you throbbing around him. His thrusts were sudden and rough.
"Yūta!" you moaned as he pressed again and again on your g-spot. You squeezed his cock hard, he knew you were close by the way your pussy clenched and sucked on it.
His bony fingers moved to your clit and started rubbing it, your back arched and your pussy contracted on his cock. You felt his cock and balls spasming.
With a firm grip he held your hips and buried himself deeper into you, his fluids filling your pussy until they spilled out; It felt good, like in the old times when he was your boyfriend, because he still was; he was Yūta, a different version but the same Yūta.
Yūta collapsed next to you, you smiled at him your cheeks were flushed and on your eyelashes was still the wetness of some tears.
"I'm sorry" you put your hand on his chest and then moved to kiss him.
"It doesn't matter, we are together now and we will always be together..... You will always be mine."
"Always yours."
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brummiereader · 14 days
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MASTERLIST PART FOUR
Unchained Melody (Part Five)
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Summary: On the path to mending your fragile marriage, you and Tommy can't bear to stay more than a few moments away from each other. In more ways than one. But as joy and laughter returns to the halls of Arrow House during an evening of ball gowns and tuxedos. The Governess, left scorned and bitter, makes the final arrangements for her deadly plan of revenge.
Warnings: Language, smut (Minors DNI), fluff, postpartum depression, violence, one racial slur, angst
Word count: 5340
Authors note: Thank you for everyone's patience as I took some time away from Tumblr. It's been a while since I have written anything, so I'm a little rusty. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
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"Tea, Mr...Dogs?" Frances asked, unsure of how to address the burly built man striding though the doors of Arrow House as he removed his green tweed cap from his head. His informal manner never ceasing to stop the head housekeeper from entering a dizzying muddle as she clutched to keep things as one would expect in the grand house she managed.
" Touch of whisky Frances. That'll be grand" he replied, stamping his mud-crusted boots onto the freshly polished floors that had recently been cleaned for the event set to take place that evening as he looked down at his pocket watch. Eight in the morning. Never too early to fire up the old lungs with one of Tommy's finest whiskys. He thought to himself as he looped his thumbs under his suspenders, taking in the grand foyer and all its fineries. He could get accustomed to this.
"Johnny boy!" Tommy greeted loudly to his old friend as he walked down the grand staircase. The smile on his face a pleasant change from the solemn frown that had become customary as of late.
"Nice digs you got 'ere Tom. Any spare rooms going, ey?" He replied with a hearty laugh, shaking your husband's hand with a firm pat on his arm.
" Not enough for your brood, and the dozen you've got scattered across the county, Johnny" Tommy replied with a chuckle, his sudden turn in mood a stark difference from the one he had replaced for the past two years. His humor further set on improving with what he hoped was next to come out of his trusted friend's mouth.
" In good spirits ey, Tommy?" Johnny replied as you made your way down the staircase with William hitched on your waist, babbling a nursery rhyme as he enthusiastically bounced up and down in your arms.
" Something like that..." Tommy's voice trailed off as he turned to face you, adoration and pride beaming lovingly through his eyes at the sight of you both together. Reunited, finally.
As in love as the day he laid eyes on you, Tommy watched as you slowly descended down each step. Recounting the night, you stayed curled up beside him watching the fire he had lit in the living room of your grand home settle into charred blackness as you both fell asleep soundly within each other's arms after having come to blows over what desperately needed to be said.
"...will be made better with what you've got to tell me" he quietly replied, not wanting you to overhear, nor have your settled worries be bogged down once again.
" A cousin up in Scotland" Johnny spoke in a hushed voice as he sent William a wave and a wink your way.
" That's it?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow, hoping for more information on the woman that had caused nothing but turbulence since her employment, and a shame your husband wanted to be rid of.
" There's been talk, Tom. In the women's wash house", Johnny added, placing a cigarette tightly between his lips, puffing the fumes through the corner of his mouth.
" Gossip Johnny. I need something better than what tattling old women have to say" Tommy replied, taking the pack of cigarettes and lighting his own as he watched the morning rays of sun glisten on your glossy smile, completely unaware of the goings-on and the vicious nature of the woman hired to care for your child.
" Kin to every man in Birmingham. Nothing gets past them, Tom. I'd stake my life on those old women's whispers" he spoke quietly, before turning his back to you and revealing what the nattering of the town had to say about the Governess in a hushed voice as you opened the dining room door and a triumphant smile grew on your husband's lips.
" Now that is interesting, Johnny. Very interesting"
With your mind still plagued with worry, you couldn't help but let the guilt of your lapse in parenting weigh down your thoughts as you sat opposite young William at the large dining table and back in your rightful seat as you awaited your husband. As your hands hovered nervously over your lips, you watched intently as your son took each mouthful of toast, your eyes darting back and forth to the fading red blotches that covered his skin.
" William?" You gasped, your eyes widening as your hand flew across the table to him when a small cough left his buttery mouth.
" He's fine darling" Tommy said as he entered the room, just as you was ready to bolt up and scoop him into your arms to the nearest doctor. " Forgets to chew. Don't you son?" Tommy smiled as his heavy hand brushed along your back, coming to settle on your shoulder.
" Yes..." You replied with a shaky voice looking back at your son, unconvinced of his well-being as your face twisted in worry.
" Hey, look at me Y/N" Tommy said, resting his thumb on your chin, gently turning your head to face him. "He's ok, darling. I promise" He said with raised brows, softly brushing the warmth of your cheek with his calloused hand. Wanting you to be rid of any lingering doubt.
" He's ok" you repeated your husband's comforting words as you settled your hand over his, bringing it down to the table where Tommy quickly intertwined his fingers into yours and you stayed there undisturbed, enjoying the closeness the morning of just the three of you alone brought. That was until the headache that came in the form of a scorned, spiteful woman with her own menacing agenda charged through the dining room.
" Get out" Tommy quickly snapped with a huff. Swiftly laying out the rules of the home he should have done long before your return.
Begrudgingly tolerant of the woman who had thrown a spanner into the sensitivity of his business contacts, his patience had all but evaporated with the learnt information Johnny had shared with him that morning. But with Tommy now holding the upper hand, her wager was in dire jeopardy. The Governesses time left at Arrow House had rapidly descended into hours, if not minutes.
" I need Gerry to take me in the car" she said as she stood at the end of the table, her talons clicking impatiently on the mahogany wood.
" No" Tommy flatly stated as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, mumbling incoherently his own choice words for her to leave under his breath as he lit a match.
" Tom" you quietly said as you rested your hand on his knee, cooling the rapidly burning fury within him, you knew was dangerously close to boiling over.
For even after her blatant disrespect towards you and the relationship you were trying to rebuild with your family. The last thing you wanted was for your young child's impressionable mind to see his father's anger slip out in front of him over a woman you knew full well was purposely trying to infuriate not only your husband, but you yourself, who had taken back your position she felt now belonged to her. Keep calm and carry on. The British way. And in this situation, the only warranted reaction.
" Taking my family into the city this morning. So..." He shrugged as he glared at her. "Walk" Tommy brushed her off, your intimate touch enough to catch him off guard and stop him from giving her the marching orders she was long overdue right then and there. In turn, sparing you from the outburst he knew she'd unleash and the encounters they had, she would undoubtedly reveal just to hinder your mending heart.
" Perfect. I'm heading that way too" her mouth curled into a smile as her eyes narrowed in on your husband.
" That's fine. Right, Tommy? " you said, squeezing your husband's thigh as your eyes darted to William intently watching his father's changing expression in response to her refusal to keep her distance, and the constant reminder of his lack of loyalty, even in your absence her presence brought.
" Right" Tommy replied clearing his throat, more preoccupied by the feeling of your hand resting soothingly on his leg. Wanting to feel closer to you. Patiently waiting for the moment you would approach him.
A family outing into town with a fourth wheel in tow. The quicker she was gone, the better. Tommy would no longer stand around with such niceties. She would be gone by the end of the day. Kicking and screaming, then so be it. But she'd be gone. He'd promised himself.
" Mr Shelby! Mr Shelby!" The young kitchen aid called out, catching up to Tommy as you headed out the door with William toddling beside you.
" What is it Billy?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow as he placed his peak cap on his head, motioning for you and William to walk ahead to the Bentley waiting outside.
" I...I need to speak with you" he stammered out, unaccustomed to speaking directly to the head of the house he worked in.
Fair and just. Tommy had never given any member of his staff a reason to fear him. But with the worried glances over his shoulder and his fumbling demeanor, the kitchen boy had not only Tommy's full attention but nagging curiosity as to what had him looking so nervous.
" Billy?" Tommy questioned, his hand firmly resting on his shoulder as he patiently waited for him to speak when the young man's eyes shot across the foyer to the Governess striding through. Her piercing glare enough for him to recoil and quickly apologise for having stopped your husband.
"N..nothing. Sorry to have bothered you sir" he said timidly stepping away as Tommy's head snapped back to the sound of the Governesses heels loudly echoing past him.
" Me, my wife or Frances. No matter the issue Billy, you come to one of us" Tommy said as he watched young Billy's eyes follow the Governess outside. " Understood? Billy?" He added, as the kitchen aid nodded before quickly returning back to the long days' work that awaited him in preparation for the gala of investors Tommy had planned for that evening.
There was no doubt in Tommy's mind that what young Billy had to say was halted by the presence of the Governess. Although determined to get to the bottom of what had occurred. For now his attention lay with you, his family. And the much-needed time he was desperate to spend with you. Just the three of you. At last.
After a short car ride into the city, with the Governess glaring at you with every second that passed, her eyes green with envy as she watched Tommy's thumb brush soothingly over your hand. You were relieved to finally pull up onto Watery Lane, and escape the tension her formidable stare had created.
"I don't think so" Tommy said with a smirk, his hand grasped firmly on the handle of the door to the betting shop, blocking the Governesses unwelcome attempts to follow you and William into the soot-covered terrace house and into the welcome arms of the Shelby family awaiting you. " Times up, love. Pack your bags and be gone by tonight" he said with a look of disgust, dismissing any further conversation with the woman he began to loathe.
" You're forgetting Tommy, that..." She began to seethe, thinking she still had the ultimate ace in her pack of cleverly played cards, before your husband swiftly stopped her in her tracks.
"That what, eh?" Tommy laughed, belittling any superiority she felt she still held over the situation. " You're not as clever as you think you are, sweetheart" Tommy said lighting a cigarette, blowing the fumes in her scorned face as annoyance settled on her perfectly primed brows.
" Been working your way around the whole country, haven't you? Thought you struck gold when you came knocking at my door. Guess you didn't expect my wife to come back though, eh?" Tommy said grabbing her chin, only a mere portion of the information he had learnt from Johnny briefly slipping through his gritted teeth as the Governesses face dropped at her scheming ways being unveiled.
" You'll regret this, Tommy Shelby. You and your precious wife" she spat back as Tommy's grip tightened.
" Get the fuck out of my house. And if you don't, I'll throw you out myself" Tommy snapped as his fingers dug against the bone of her jaw. "Believe me darling, nothing is beneath me. Even when dealing with the fairer sex" he warned her as he pushed her chin away from him out into the cobbled streets in front of his childhood home. Her blatant threats aimed at you enough for Tommy's questionable moral compass to slip even further. If he was going to kill a woman, it would be her. " Stay away from my wife and child" he warned her as he slammed the betting shop door in her face, leaving her fuming with a boiling rage the residents of Watery Lane precariously stayed clear of as they made their way back to their homes.
" What?!" She snapped as two young children hurried past her. Their eyes quickly averting to anything but the reddened-faced woman now marching down the muddied streets in the direction of where her new intentions now lied.
" Still 'ere then?" Esme asked, arms crossed, nose scrunched as she leaned against the shelf the Governess was scanning in the small convenience shop on the corner of the main street of Small Heath. " My John says Tommy's given you your marching orders" Esme said cracking a smile, her and everyone else in the Shelby family having never warmed to the woman that was intent on replacing you in every way.
" With child again, Esme?" the Governess scoffed as she looked down her nose past her hazel features to the swell of her stomach. " Don't your lot ever stop? What's this one? Third, fourth? I can't keep up " she laughed as she returned to the shelf, and it's curious contents.
" My lot. What's that supposed to mean, Gover-ness?" Esme was quick to respond, pushing her way between the shelf and the woman who was hellbent on insulting anyone who bore the name Shelby. Her disdain for the head of the family firmly at the forefront of her thoughts every waking hour of the day.
" There's that famous anger. Gypsies. You're all the same" she insulted, pushing past the blossoming bump and picking up a glass bottle neatly labeled "Rodent Poison", its killing substance, cyanide. Her swift concealment of her intended purchase going unnoticed by Esme, whose face had twisted in offense at the Governesses insulting, cruel words.
" So prim, so proper" your sister-in-law scoffed, as she looked at the neatly dressed woman from head to toe. "But I've heard talk. I know exactly what you are, how low you'll stoop. Governess to the upper class. Now running from a string of angry wives you wanted to replace and the affairs you had with their men" Esme smirked as she watched the Governesses quick wit falter, and her expression change to one of anger at her intentions further being exposed. " Your lot. Homewreckers. Filth" Esme spat with contempt as the Governess stood back, tightly holding the bottle against her body.
" Just this, Mr Higgs" the tall women said as she turned away from the braided beauty, placing the deadly bottle of household poison on the counter and paying. " Goodbye Esme" she smirked, before opening the rickety wooden door, the chime of the bell hovering above it announcing her departure and another step closer she was to playing her next lethal hand.
As the household staff hurried from room to room later that day, finishing off the last of their duties before the guests arrived. You kept yourself busy with worry with what the many invitees would have to say about your sudden reappearance at Arrow house as you prepared yourself for the dreaded evening.
" I can't do this...fuck. I can't do this" you mumbled under your breath as you shook your dressing gown off in front of the large standing mirror in your bedroom.
Stood there behind the dressing screen, your hand traced down your stomach over the faded scars that had turned opaque in the many months that had rolled by. A reminder of the home you kept your son safe, warm within the swell of your stomach. But imperfect, scarred.
Why won't they leave? You sobbed rubbing your flesh red, yearning for the body you had once, the one that captivated your husband's adoration. The one he wouldn't go a day without kissing every inch of. Was he no longer in love with you that way? Was that why he hadn't gotten closer to you? Kissed you? Your mind nattered to you as you turned to pull the sequin gown from its hanger, throwing it on the chair beside you when the door opened and your husband quietly walked in.
"Tommy, is that you?" You called out as you slipped your feet into your laced lingerie.
"Guests are arriving Y/N" he replied as he slowly walked towards the large wooden cabinet, pulling out a set of gold cufflinks. His initials intricately engraved into each one.
" Shit, I'm sorry. Can you help me, with the zip?" You asked, before quickly scrambling for the dress you had launched to the side in your flustered state. " No! Wait! Just...just hold on a second" you all but shouted, quickly pulling the dress over your knees before your husband saw your exposed body.
Coming to a sudden stop, Tommy waited behind the floral painted screen of Gardenias and Ferns, unable to stop his wandering eyes and loose footing from being captured by the soft amber lighting bouncing off the curve of your hip partially covered by the screen. Watching it slowly sway from side to side as you pulled the dress over your body.
Never had he felt so much desire, so much longing to hold you as he silently watched you glide the glittering gown up the edges of your body. The little he could see taking his already labored breath away from him within seconds.
"Y/N, darling?" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stepped back, recomposing himself and the collar of his shirt tightening around the pulsing vein in his neck.
"Ok, you can come" you said as Tommy cocked a brow, a small smile of amusement flashing across his face at your choice of words. Unbeknownst to you how true your statement was close to becoming a reality for him.
" I can't reach, can you just..." You said, gesturing behind your back as your smartly suited husband stood behind you, brushing his thumb down the middle of your back until the small zipper resting over the white lace of your underwear.
" You ok?" Tommy asked, swallowing heavy. Unsure if he was asking himself the very same question as he slowly pulled your dress together.
" Nervous" you smiled timidly to him in the mirror as you smoothed down the front of your gown, your face quickly twisting in uncertainty at your choice of dress.
" I won't leave your side" Tommy said turning you around as your hands came up to straighten his limp tie. " Not once " he said tucking the loose whispers of hair behind your jeweled ordained ears, his body slowly closing the small gap between you both.
" Promise?" You replied lifting your gaze to his hooded eyes staring down at you as you inched closer.
"Promise" he answered bending his head down to capture your ruby lips when a knock on a door and the announcement that all the guests had arrived stole the long awaited moment between you both.
And promise he did. Never once during the entirety of the night did Tommy leave your side as he worked the room and the many guests he had to greet, stealing small glances at you every brief moment he could to gaze at your radiating beauty. Whether it be talking to politicians or men of nobility, Tommy's hand protectively hovered next to yours throughout the evening, discreetly brushing over your fingers as he counted the hours to be finally alone with you again. He couldn't have hoped for a smoother night.
But calm is far from what was taking place behind the scenes of the glitzy evening of flowing ball gowns and filled champagne glasses that adorned the lower level of Arrow House. Far from calm.
With a smile painted on her face and a hop in her step. Your trusted housekeeper for the first time in a long time finally felt the early years of your residence in Arrow House joyfully seeping their way back into the heart of the home through the laughter and music that could be heard downstairs as she made her way up to William's nursery. Hoping he was sleeping as soundly as she had left him. But when she reached the door of your son's room, a reminder of the dark presence that still resided over the stately home could be heard whispering vicious words to the innocent ears of its youngest resident.
" I'll be your new mother soon. Your old mummy's not well, William. She left you, remember?" Don't worry she'll be gone soon" the Governesses voice hushed as she loomed over William's cot as he tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep. "Just you, me and your father, it won't be long now" she added as Frances watched on in horror through the crack of the door, her unfathomable words spilling from her thinly lined lips.
" Get out! Leave!" Frances' voice rose as she hurried to check on young William's well-being. " Mr Shelby ordered you to leave. If you had any sense, you'd go before he learns of the disgusting things I just heard you say"
" Oh Frances. The busy worker bee. Always listening, watching..." she giggled with a quick glare as she sauntered to the open door. " It will all end in heartbreak" she said as she turned around to face your trusted housekeeper and her hand firmly grasped onto the frame of the door, blocking any future attempts to reach your child and seethe her vapid words once again.
" When will you understand... Agness?" she questioned, speaking her name for the first time. Unwilling to use the title of Governess she no longer deserved. " You were but a minor distraction for him as he grieved and cried for the love he still held for his wife. He doesn't want you. Now leave" Frances said as the Governesses smirk dropped and her wicked hatred for anyone daring to get in her way spilled over into fury.
All it took was a blinding second, a swift merciless moment for the Governess to grab hold of the door and slam it shut on Frances' hand, crushing her wrist between the door and its frame.
Muffling her screams with all her might to not wake and frighten the young child in her care. Frances desperately tried to free her hand and the excruciating pain soaring through the snapping of her bones.
" Busy bodies always get their comeuppance, dear Frances " she said letting go of the door before her wrist gave way and broke.
Clutching onto her throbbing hand as she quietly wept. Frances slid down in a heap to the floor as she watched the Governess quietly walk away through her teary vision into the darkened corridor to a Charleston playing loudly downstairs.
"Frances! Frances!" The young kitchen aid caught up to her as she walked through the foyer, quickly grabbing a linen napkin and wrapping it around her limp wrist. " You're hurt" young Billy said, taking her hand as Frances stopped a young maid walking by.
" Go sit with William Ethel. All night. Don't leave his side" Frances ordered as the maid hurried with haste up the winding staircase to the nursery.
" What's going on? Is he Ill? I'll... I'll get Mr Shelby, Mrs Shelby" Billy stuttered as he looked at the terror weighing down your housekeeper's frightened face.
" No Billy. Let them be" she reluctantly replied as she turned to see the both of you dancing the last song of the night together, smiling lovingly at each other as small giggles joyously left your lips at Tommy's quick-footed steps. The happiness beaming off your faces tearing her away from interrupting your rekindling marriage. She would tell you in the morning. She promised herself.
" Frances, there's something I think you should know" Billy said, following her into the bustling kitchen as the staff washed their way through the many plates of canapes that had been eaten and glasses of champagne that had been drunk.
" What is it, Billy?"
As the evening slowly died down, and enough time had been spent in the company of people your husband had little, if any regard for other than their checkbooks. He quietly whisked you off to the small living room of your home to a lit fire and two crystal glasses of champagne waiting for you. Hiding you both away from any further small talk or pressing matters with the turn of a key. Alone, at last.
" Wasn't your finest moment, so I've been told" you laughed after recounting the story his brothers had told you about your poor husband's ghostly face and unsteady feet after hearing you scream bloody murder from down in the foyer he'd been pacing for near ten hours whilst you were in the throes of labor with William.
" Sweetheart.." He stopped, leaning forward to you with a smirk on his face. " You sounded like you were giving birth to the antichrist himself" he laughed, earning him a quick smack across the chest. " I've seen it at the pictures, so I know how that shit ends" he said tipping his glass to you with a cocky smile. The top three buttons of his shirt undone, waistcoat and cufflinks gone. For the first time in two years, Tommy looked relaxed. Happy.
" Yes well, good thing I gave you an angel of a son" you corrected him, taking a sip of your third glass of champagne.
" That you did" Tommy smiled to you. With his eyes glossed over with love, he reached his hand across the feathered cushion to softly rub his thumb across your knuckles. " How did I get so lucky, eh?" He sighed heavily, his eyes scanning across your face, engraving the very moment into his memory. Scared, his happiness would be snatched away from him once again.
" Tom..." You blushed, gazing up at him through your full lashes as a small nagging moment of guilt escaped the corners of your mind for having left him and your son.
" C'mere" he said, quickly simmering your worries as he ushered you closer to him with a tilt of his head, placing his empty glass on the table beside him.
With his breath hot against your lips, Tommy cupped your cheeks, closing the mere millimeters between you both and capturing your mouth in a tender longing kiss.
" Tommy..." You mumbled, quickly feeling the passion rise within you as the embrace intensified with the welcome feeling of your husband's tongue gently stroking against your own.
With a surge of confidence and a need to urgently feel your husband's body intertwined with yours, you pulled yourself up onto his lap as Tommy watched your hurried movements. Refraining himself and his own desperation to flip you onto your back, and bury himself in you.
Why was he just watching you? You thought to yourself as you undid each remaining button of his shirt one by one, a sudden wave of insecurity heating your cheeks as Tommy's hands stayed motionless by his side as his intent stare held still.
Were you rushing things, did you misunderstand his intentions ? Then why did he kiss you like that? Your brain ticked over with questions as he watched you timidly slide the straps of your dress down past your full breasts, sending a wave of desire through him as he scrambled to keep his composure, and let you take control of the pace.
Had he been too restrained? Shit. Did you think he didn't want this? He questioned himself as he watched your eyes fill with uncertainty as your hands hovered over the buckle of his belt.
" Don't stop..." Tommy breathed heavily as you apprehensively slid your hand down his trousers only to recoil with doubt that this was even what he wanted. " Darling please, don't stop..." He said swallowing harshly, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest at the long awaited feel of your touch as he torturously kept himself from taking things quicker. " Fuck" your husband moaned as you wrapped your hand around his stiffened cock, slowly pumping it up and down within your palm.
With your dress bunched up around your stomach, you lined his throbbing length up. Briefly lingering it beneath you, when your husband could no longer withstand the wait and his hands flew up to your waist sinking you down on to him with a gasp as he threw his head back in relief.
" Tommy" You moaned his name as he bucked further into you, his grip securely fastened on your waist.
"Sweetheart, look at me..." Your husband panted holding onto your hips as you rocked back of forth, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape in the highs of pleasure. " Y/N, look at me" he pleaded as he watched you finally open eyes, pulling you forward into a searing embrace before flipping you onto your back and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes
" Tom" you breathlessly whined as he thrusted into you, his hands tracing down the warmth of your body as he pulled at the fabric of dress in his way you was reluctant to be rid of.
" Stop hiding from me Y/N " Tommy said, as you pulled your gown back up, covering the scars your self-conscious thoughts resented as Tommy pulled out and knelt between your legs. " It's ok" he nodded reassuringly, gently moving your stubborn hands away and pulling the remainder of your clothes from your body.
"You kept our son safe" Tommy said, brushing his thumb over the small faded streaks as he watched your eyes well with tears. Hearing your worried thoughts without a single word leaving your lips.
" Hey, shhh" he hushed your fears away as he settled his heavy body down between your legs, his lips pecking their way over the slope of your breasts until capturing your mouth in his. " My wife. My beautiful wife" he said reaching his hand down to his pulsing cock, sighing at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him once again as he urgently entered you. " I love you Y/N" Tommy moaned between each labored breath as he rocked his hips into you, instantly ridding you of any doubt of his remaining feelings for you with three simple words. The sweetest of words you realised you had been waiting to hear to finally feel at peace with your past actions.
" I love you too, Tommy" you breathlessly moaned as you held onto your husband's strong frame as he pulled your legs around his back, wrapping them tightly against him to feel as close, as deep as he could possibly be. At one with you. Making love to you.
As morning came and the sun glistened through the netted curtains. Beams of light cascaded over the woven blanket draped over your tired bodies as you laid soundly asleep on the plush setee you had spent the night passionately making up for the many sleepless hours of darkness you had both endured. But darkness remained, looming feet from you. Creeping in unseen, unheard.
" Soon" The Governess whispered through gritted teeth as her fingers clasped tightly around the blade in her hand, her lust for vengeance close to sabotaging her deadly plan enough for her to find her way into the small haven you had made as she watched you from the door wrapped in a lovers embrace. " Soon..."
PART SIX (The Final) coming soon!
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belit0 · 7 months
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ahh, i just found out tobirama was about 40 when he became hokage! which makes him even hotter🤭. can you do a hokage tobirama and his young pregnant shy wife meeting his family and like people around the village
I need to EXPLICTLYYYY know where you got that information from bc confirming that he was a daddy brings a different flavor to his character🫠❤️‍🩹
For clarification purposes: Madara is blind in this piece. Hashirama healed Izuna before he died, under Madara's acceptance of peace, and Aniki never took his younger brother's eyes, preferring to go blind rather than steal his sight.
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No one dares to look him in the eye, let alone question the possessive hand that won't let go of (Y/N)'s hips. Her belly is too prominent to deny the situation, but no one is used to seeing the current Hokage with his wife.
Senju Tobirama devoted himself to hiding the woman he promised as a bride, unable to tolerate stares at her and unfortunate comments. Both men and women would send lust and desire toward her, and he would have no way to stop them all. What better remedy than to shelter (Y/N) until his ownership is undeniable?
Tobirama can be quite capricious.
The man even went as far as not allowing his own older brother to meet her, Hashirama himself excluded from the equation. To think that the former Hokage could betray his younger brother like that was ridiculous to everyone, but it wasn't about lust with him. No.
Tobirama hid (Y/N) because he refused to lose the one ray of light in his life (after Anija's solar shower, of course). His past is made up of death and disappointment, built as an unfeeling weapon of war by his father, robbed of the ability to empathize with anyone until the creation of Konoha.
His wife brought a peace he didn't know he needed into his life, a breath of fresh air even as nations struggled to not cooperate with peace, freedom among so much horror and suffering. (Y/N) showed him that life could be spent out of survival mode, that he could relax for sleep and accept another person into his bed without danger.
Having found what he always sought without knowing it, Tobirama could not afford to lose it.
Keeping her away from everything and everyone (beyond his possible jealousy) was also composed by the need to protect her, to remove her from the spotlight that inevitably comes with being the Hokage's future wife, to prevent her from being used against him. The albino's attitudes were based on affection, but now that (Y/N) is round with his creation, full of him, he can't help but proudly display her.
He strolls through the market streets with his head held high and his wife tightly in his grip, shooting hostile glances at anyone who looks at them for more than five minutes at a time. Of course he expects people to be surprised, but he doesn't want her to end up with the evil eye either.
"Hokage-Sama! Here, here!" shouts a little old lady from his favorite food stall. He can't ignore people from his village, those who trust him, and comes up to her stall to give her a smile unbecoming of Tobirama. "You look very happy, Hokage-Sama!"
"Ah... how could a man not be, having such a beautiful woman by his side?" And (Y/N) blushes, waving slightly at the little old lady and trying to hide the redness of her cheeks behind the sleeve of her yukata.
The elderly woman smiles, and hands them both a small package of food without accepting anything in return, "here, here, take this, enjoy life!" She practically pushes them out of her stall, and they resume walking to the point they agreed on with Hashirama.
People stare and stare at them, some even dare to congratulate the Hokage, give him blessings, ask if he could feel how many children are there. Some inquiries make him uncomfortable, and with just a blunt look he gets rid of those prying eyes.
They receive more gifts along the way, offerings of love and respect, food and decorations, townspeople declaring their eagerness to meet the Hokage's offspring. Tobirama would not expect to have interacted with so many people in such a short distance, and his social battery is noticeably drained, squeezing (Y/N) more and more protectively against his body.
By the time they reach Hashirama's house, the Hokage no longer wants anything to do with anyone.
"Ayoooooo! Tobi! You made it!" his older brother waits for them sitting at the door, like a little kid waiting for his dad to come home from work. The problem is, Hashirama is not a child, and not little one either. He pounces on the two, wrapping his arms around them and pressing their faces to his chest, invasive and effusive as always but enhanced by (Y/N)'s presence.
"Aaaa! (Y/N)! Finally released from your confinement! It's so beautiful to finally meet you!" Anija lets go of him, only to squeeze her separately, give her kisses on the crown of her head and clench her cheeks like a grandmother. Yes, Hashirama could be compared to a grandmother. "Have you looked... I mean, in there? See what's in there? We could ask Izuna to-"
"No."
"But-"
"No. It's a surprise." Tobirama pulls (Y/N) out of his arms, and hugging her enters the house he knows by heart. He heads straight for the courtyard, where he knows Hashirama (who comes behind him with his head down and feigning sadness) enjoys afternoons of tea.
Of course, he does not expect the surprise his brother has prepared for him there.
The whole clan, the whole damn family is gathered around a huge table, different from the one Anija prefers for his solitary lunches. Sitting in the two main seats, the Uchiha brothers, who have no business in a Senju house, full of Senju men and women.
Is this what peace looks like? Graphically represented? Tobirama wants to vomit.
"TOBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" He is greeted by his entire family as a whole, and the elders soon hover over both of them. Females kidnap (Y/N) to shower her with questions and love, all a carbon copy of how Hashirama behaves but boosted to the tenth.
The albino is also abducted, but by the young men and his older brother, who seems to have regained his cheerfulness. They sit him down in front of the Uchiha brothers, and it's like sending a cow to the slaughter.
"Tobi Tobes... I didn't know your family called you like that, neither that your wife was SO pregnant... He hides too many things from us, right Aniki?" Izuna starts, as usual, not missing a chance to poke him with whatever comes in front of him.
"Hm."
"How many children do you have there? 3? She's... prominent!"
"Get my wife out of your mouth before I make you remember why the war existed in the first place." It's a blunt threat, and the young men around him tense up. Peace is old at this point, but the habits of a life that no longer exists are hard to forget.
"He's joking! Yes, yes, he's kidding! No tobi?" Hashirama tries to disperse the waters, and it works, at least with those who don't know them inside out. Madara knows what's coming, and so does he somehow.
"You want me to see how many are there? With the Sharingan, I mean... it's not like I actually want to get inside-"
"Izuna. Enough." Aniki tries, and succeeds until the albino glares at his little brother.
"Madara... you're blind, but if only could you see the size of that woman's belly..."
"IZUNA!" This time it's Hashirama, who gets indignant every time the Uchiha speaks so lightly about his brother's eye condition. Maybe it's the way they both have of cooperating with the situation, but it's still terrible in his ears.
The Uchiha leader chuckles under his breath, and it's all the validation Izuna needs to go on.
"So, what do you say, Tobi Tobes, want to check it out?" and before he can activate his Dōjutsu, two huge branches stop them both. Tobirama, who was in the process of pulling out a kunai and jumping to his throat, is imprisoned in his seat. Izuna, about to reveal the mystery the couple wanted to keep, has a huge trunk wrapped around his head in the eye area.
"Fuck you."
"Fuck you too."
"Fuck all of you guys." And everyone turns around in surprise, because this time it's (Y/N) doing the talking. She puts a hand on her husband's shoulder, dodging the wood on him, and gives a pleasant smile to the Uchiha brothers. "We'll find out how many children are here at the time of delivery, for the time being, I appreciate your efforts, Lord Izuna."
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mrwavellswaps · 4 months
Text
Santa’s Solution
(Christmas Special)
It was the night of Christmas Eve and all across the world towns and cities were lit up with sparking colourful lights to celebrate the holidays. Everywhere you looked there was beauty as there always was this time of year. And nobody could see that beauty better than Santa Claus himself as he soared through the skies with his sleigh full of presents and magical reindeer leading the way. Of course most believed him to be a fairy tale but he was very much real. Simply using a little Christmas magic to make adults who didn’t believe in him think the presents he’d brought were ones they’d bought themselves. And of course he used a little magic to make sure nobody ever saw him either. That was one of the number one rules. Nobody is allowed to see Santa.
Well this night it would appear something had gone a little wrong with his magic when he entered the home of Brett Rivers. Usually his Christmas magic would make it so nobody would be awoken when he stopped by to drop off a present or two or that they would just so happen to drift off to sleep when he arrived. However this night it would not go as planned.
Brett found himself fluttering awake to the sound of rustling coming from his small living room. At first he thought it was nothing but when he heard what sounded like footsteps, he knew he had to check it out. He quietly slid out of bed in nothing but a pair of boxers, showcasing his huge muscular physique. Thick and bulky arms, solid powerful legs and a pair of melons for pecs.
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He wasn’t at all scared by the noises being the buff guy that he was but he was sure to grab the bat underneath his bed just in case.
He silently made his way down the small corridor outside his bedroom and towards the living room where he turned the corner and saw none other than Santa Claus himself. Or at least a dude dressed up as Santa. He’d been expecting a burglar so the sight of the fat old man dressed up in red and white certainly had him lost for words for a few moments until he finally snapped out of it. “Oi! What the hell are you doing in my house!?” He shouted while bringing the bat up into a position ready to swing.
Startled, Santa whipped around to see the angry and confused hunk of a man standing behind him. “O-oh? You shouldn’t be out of bed Brett.” He said, knowing Brett’s name immediately, with an equal amount of confusion in his voice. “Oh dear… this has never happened before.” Santa hummed with a hint of frustration as he realised he’d broken one of the Christmas rules that he wasn’t allowed to be seen dropping off presents. “This won’t do at all.” He added whilst stroking his long white beard as if trying to come up with some kind of solution to the awkward situation.
“What the fuck are you talking about you crazy old man!” Brett shouted, getting angrier by the second. “How the hell do you know my name!?… N-no I don’t care just get the fuck out before I beat the shit out of your fat ass and call the cops!” He bellowed furiously before taking a few threatening steps closer to the intruder.
Santa sighed. “I’m sorry to do this my boy but I can’t allow that.” The jolly old man suddenly began rubbing his gloved hands together as Brett got closer. The hunk was about to give him one warning before suddenly Santa opened his hands again and blew what seemed to be fairy dust straight in Brett’s face.
The stud coughed as he stumbled backwards slightly, dropping the bat he was holding in the process with a loud thud. His entire body began to feel light and weak as his eyes fluttered. “W…What… did y-you…” Before Brett could even finish his sentence, he fell completely unconscious. Luckily Santa was quick enough to catch him before landed on the floor.
“Ooof… I’ve got you. Just sleep.” The fat bearded man whispered as his magic dust took full effect. Though as he held Brett’s unconscious body, Santa couldn’t help allowing his eyes to wander across the hunky form Brett had build. All the muscular curves and ridges that had been crafted into it along with the thickness that went along with it making Brett look like an adonis. Big Mr Claus couldn’t help licking his lips a little in a moment of perviness that was rather uncharacteristic for him. He soon shook his head however and got back to buisness.
Using a surprising amount of strength, Santa carefully hoisted Brett up onto his feet once again before taking a breath and tossing the muscular man over his shoulder. If his cheeks weren’t already so rosey then he probably would’ve been blushing slightly at having this big handsome almost naked man on his shoulder.
“You’re certainly a strong healthy lad aren’t you my boy.” Santa chuckled slightly as he gave Brett’s muscle ass a cheeky pat before rubbing his hand down the back Brett’s thighs and getting a good feel for those thick hamstrings of his. “Very strong indeed…” he continued to mumble as his hand slid back over Brett’s ass again.
With that Santa made sure he had a good grip on Brett before taking his leave and heading back to his sleigh. Once there he carefully placed the hunk in the back of the sleigh alongside his magical sack of presents. “What am I gonna do with you?…” Santa pondered as he stared down at Brett for a moment, still taking in that young gorgeous body. “Welp. I’ll have to figure that out later. Time is running out and I have presents to deliver!” He declared before heading to the next house that was in need of a couple presents from Santa.
———
The next time Brett awoke he found himself sitting in a cold wooden chair that certainly wasn’t his home. Instead he found himself in what seemed to be some sort of laboratory. It was hard to tell at first but as his vision cleared he began to make out a room filled with all sorts of machines that he couldn’t even begin to understand. There were multiple worktops full of gadgets and devices that’d seemily been crafted here, none of which Brett could make sense of.
“Finally back with us eh? We’ve been waiting forever for that slumber magic to wear off.” Said an elf beside him. “Took your body awhile to wake up after having you under for so many months.” The tiny worker added causally. He worked human enough besides the fact that he looked to have been scaled down a bit in size. And of course the pointy ears. The elf wore a pair of rather sophisticated glasses that sat perfectly atop his nose and would probably be one of his most stand out features if it weren’t for his thick curly beard. He was wearing a typical scientist-y get up comp,ste with the white lab coat you’d usually see yet Brett couldn’t help noticing the tuft of chest hair that stuck out the top of the elf’s collar. He was definitely a furry one.
“W-what!? What’re you talking about?! Months?! What’s-Grrrahh!” As his body began to wake, Brett attempted to jump up from the chair he was seated in only to find both his arms and legs had been tightly strapped down with restraints. “Hey! Let me go you fucking creep!” He shouted while continuing to struggle but his attempts to free himself were all in vain.
The elf who looked to be wearing a messy lab coat of sorts shook his head. “Sorry mister, no can do. Might as well save your strength.” He tutted as he pulled out what looked to be some sort of phone. The scrawny little elf tapped a few buttons before talking into the device. “He’s awake now sir if you’re ready to proceed.”
Brett was even more confused. By this point he was surprised he hadn’t had a panic attack yet. The last thing he could clearly remember was being woken up in the middle of the night before Christmas by some Santa looking fucker breaking into his house and now he was here in the freaky looking gadget workshop. What freaked him out even more though was as he peered over his shoulder he saw one huge machine sat behind him with what looked to be two helmets attached to it.
“What the fuck is that?!” Brett’s voice boomed through the laboratory. When he didn’t get a response however, his face grew red with anger and frustration. “Hey! Answer me you stupid little fuck! What the fuck are you doing to me!?” The jock struggled against his restraints once more in the hopes of performing a miracle and breaking out. But that was only fantasy.
The elf sighed. “Look man. I’ve been instructed not to say anything until the big man gets here. He’ll explain everything to you.” He explained somewhat bluntly. “You know I kinda felt bad for you at first but now… I think I’m starting to see why Mr Claus was okay with going through with this.”
The cryptic wording only made Brett more worried. “C-come on man. Just let me go. Please, I'll give you anything.” Brett’s anger from moments ago turned to pleas as he quickly came to terms with the fact that there was likely no way for him to get out of whatever this was. But once again he was ignored. He begged over and over but the elf had already turned its back to him. There was nothing he could do.
Despite this Brett continued to plead in vain but he would soon be cut short when the large metal door at the opposite end of the room made a beeping sound before sliding open. A wave of nervous anticipation washed over Brett’s body as he saw the fat lumbering form of Santa Claus step foot in the lab.
This time Santa dorned a long sleeved red and white striped button down that just barely managed to stretch across his massive stomach and soft pecs. It was assisted in holding his huge gut in place by a pair of red suspenders that were attached to a large pair of slacks of the same colour. Slacks that also fit the older man's robust frame rather tightly in a way that showed off his fat ass and legs rather nicely.
“Ah! Mr Claus! The machine is prepped and ready for you. Just give the word and we’ll begin the procedure.” The nerdy looking elf who’d been keeping Brett company chirped, seeming elated to be in the large man’s presence.
“Thank you Venix. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you and your team. I’ll be sure to treat you all to something nice after this is over.” Santa smiled warmly at his Head Scientist & Technician who was practically beaming at the words of appreciation. With that however, Santa was quick to turn his attention to the hunk strapped down before him in nothing but a pair of tight underwear.
Mr Claus took a few thunderous steps towards Brett, his belly shaking slightly with each one, until he was stood directly over the jock. “Why hello again Brett. Glad to see you’re back with us. We had to keep you unconscious for quite a few months while we finished this project but it seems it’s finally time.”
There it was again. Months. “What do you mean months!? How long have I been here?? What the fuck is happening?!” Brett panicked aloud.
Santa chuckled. “Well when I brought you here last Christmas this project was only in the planning stage. We hadn’t even begun building the glorious machine you see behind you. So naturally we’ve had to keep you asleep for awhile whilst my trusty elves got to work. And they’ve done a fine job by the looks of it.” He looked up at the large glimmering machine that sat behind Brett which had been charged with a mix between earth’s finest resources and a bit of magic sprinkled in to give it the energy it needed for its purpose. “And to answer your question, it’s now the middle of June.”
The realisation hit Brett like a ton of bricks. Had he really been here for six whole months?! There was no way. It had to be a trick right? “You’re lying!” He claimed. “If I’d really been out for that long I’d practically be skin and bone by now. But I’ve still got all my fucking muscle so cut the bullshit old man!”
“You’re right. Under normal circumstances you would’ve lost most of your muscle mass by now.” Santa admitted. “Luckily for us, the magic we’ve used to keep you asleep also acts as a preservative. Meaning your body has been able to retain its size and mass despite being inactive for so long. Also like you’ve been frozen.” He explained as he leaned forwards and shamelessly groped one of Brett’s thick pecs before then using his other hand to feel the hunks meaty arms. “Mmmm yeah. Perfect condition…” he grunted much to Brett’s own disturbance.
After having his fun, Santa walked past Brett before placing a hand on the machine. Admiring its glory after all the hard sweat and tears his elves put into making it. He couldn’t have been more grateful towards them. Once this was over he was already planning on throwing a big celebration for them all. With that though, Santa turned his gaze towards the other slightly bigger chair beside Brett.
“Well there’s no time like the present I say. Let’s get this show on the road!” Mr Claus announced as walked past Brett again and towards the adjacent chair. As he passed though, Santa couldn’t help jiggling his fat belly, seemingly in a mocking manner. “Take a good look at this stomach Brett because in a few moments it’ll be all yours…” he taunted.
“Huh?! What the hell are you going on about!?!” Brett screamed but he received no answer. Only a mischievous smirk from Santa as he sat down in the other chair. He could only watch in confusion as Venix strapped the burly man into the chair with restraints similar to his own.
Once Santa was securely restrained in the chair, Venix looked up at him with a small smile. “May I send them in now sir?” He asked. Mr Claus simply nodded in response. Of course Brett was once again clueless to what was going on but it soon became clear as Venix stepped out for a moment only to re-enter the room with a huge lobby full of other elves behind him. Most of them were other scientists and engineers that’d worked on the machine while others were just elves who were lucky enough to have been chosen to witness the event. And if that didn’t freak Brett out enough, to make matters worse Venix also mentioned that the camera’s were now on and were broadcasting to the entirety of the Christmas Villa.
The small crowd that’d come to watch the event live began cheering when Santa gave the thumbs up to start the procedure. Venix grabbed one of the helmets that were attached to the machine and first made his way over to Santa as he gently placed the device on his head before securing it in place. Once it was on, Venix swiped up the matching helmet and brought it over to Brett.
“No! Stop! Keep that thing away from me! Get away!” He shouted while writhing in his chair. But with how much he was being restrained and how his body still hadn’t fully recovered its energy after having been knocked out for so long, there was little he could do to stop the elf from forcing the helmet onto his head and swiftly securing it. “Fuck! Get it off!” He continued thrash around but his frustration was immediately drowned out by the growing cheers and excitement of the crowd all whilst Santa grinned in an almost maniacal manner beneath his huge white beard
Venix flipped a few switches and booped a few buttons on the big machine, causing it to roar to life as it started powering up. A sound that excited everyone in the room except for the kidnapped jock. And as the machine continued to hum and glow, Venix made his way over to a small nearby station with a control pad that was hooked up to it. He immediately began to punch in the correct settings before looking over towards Santa again for one last sign of approval before going ahead. A small wink from the big man was all he needed. With all the other elves rallying him on, Venix finally took a deep breath and smacked his hand down on the big red button that would set everything into motion.
The machine began to rattle before glowing even brighter than before. It was generating an incredibly fierce amount of energy that only made Brett more terrified. He wouldn’t have much time to dwell on that however as moments later a powerful current of magic and electricity surged down from the machine and into both helmets. Immediately both Santa and Brett gripped their chairs tightly and the energy flooded through them. It was a feeling that was almost indescribable. In a way it felt both uncomfortable yet satisfying at the same time.
The crowd simply watched in awe as both Brett and Santa’s bodies began to convulse. Brett’s muscle jiggling almost as much as Santa’s fat. Both men couldn’t help letting out uncontrollable groans almost in unison as their eyes began to roll. It was impossible to tell if they were in pain or pleasure. But that wouldn’t matter as soon Brett felt his vision starting to blur.
It was the most surreal experience. One moment it seemed as though he were looking down at the muscular body he was accustomed to and the next he was suddenly looking down at a fat wobbly belly held in place by the very same shirt and suspenders Santa was wearing. Brett’s vision continued to fade in and out between seeing both perspectives. At first he only saw flashes of the fatter body below him before returning to his muscled one but each time it lingered for longer. It was mind boggling in a way that he could barely even comprehend as his view was constantly switching back and forth. Buff to fat to buff to fat again.
The cycle of flashing perspectives continued as the machine fed more and more energy to the helmets until at last there was one massive jolt of energy that caused both men to writhe in their seats. The audience began to look slightly worried but Venix assured them it was all part of the process. And just as he said that, the machine began powering itself down after seemingly having completed its task.
Both Brett and Santa were left unconscious for a minute or so after the machine shut down. During which Venix quickly ran over to them both and removed the helmets but left their restraints in place just in case something had gone wrong. Every elf in the villa that was watching was practically holding their breath waiting to know the results. To know if Santa’s plan had been a success. So when the body of Santa began to groan and come around, they were all eager to see his reaction.
Slowly but surely Brett blinked his eyes open again. “Ughhh… what? What happened?…” he mumbled but immediately he knew something was wrong. His voice. It sounded much older and huskier than before. But that was the least of his concerns. Pretty soon his eyes started to focus and when he looked down, he got the shock of a lifetime.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?!” Brett shrieked as instead of the hunky body he was used to, he looked down to see the body of Santa! His belly looked fucking massive as it stretched out the very same shirt Santa had been wearing. And his legs looked so huge and fat as they filled out those red slacks. Clothes that never would’ve fit his old body were now hugging him tightly as if to emphasise just how fat he was. But that wasn’t all as Brett then quickly came to notice the massive beard that was cascading down from his face. And it was completely white! In that moment he knew what’d happened but his brain couldn’t accept it. It was impossible after all. There was no way he’d actually swapped bodies with Santa!?
It was then that Brett heard a low familiar sounding grumble come from beside him. He whipped his head to the right only to see none other than himself! His own damn body! And it seemed to slowly be waking up as well.
“Sir? Sir, are you okay?” Venix asked as he rushed over towards Brett’s former body.
The hunk shook his head a little as he squinted his eyes open. “Y-yeah. I feel… good.” Santa mumbled. A smirk slowly etched itself across his face as he got a good look at his body below. No longer was his vision obscured by the presence of a massive gut nor did he feel so heavy and old. Instead he felt stronger than he had in years! He could already feel a youthful energy pulsing through his very being! “I feel… absolutely fantastic! Quick Venix! Take off these restraints!” He commanded with excitement.
The elf undid the arm restraints first before quickly undoing the ones binding Santa’s legs. Immediately the man jumped up out of the chair and started to inspect his new form. First of all running his hands along his chest and stomach. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he groped his new pecs. They were so thick yet so firm at the same time unlike the flabby chest his old body had. But his stomach was what threw him off the most. He’d gotten so used to his big belly that he almost forgot what it was like to have a flat stomach. And on top of that he even had abs! There were hardly even words to describe what he was feeling right now besides pure wonder and astonishment.
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“God yes. I should’ve done this years ago!” Santa claimed as he started to flex. Loving how his thick new arms bulged with every movement. Feeling a rush of pure dopamine as his biceps peaked before his eyes. Despite being smaller than he was before, all the strength and muscle made him feel like a one man army. Like he could take on absolutely anything and anyone! All the while his elves continued to watch on in curiosity as their leader examined his new body.
“H-hey! That’s mine! That’s my fucking body!” Brett began to shout from the other chair, still strapped down but that didn’t stop him from struggling again anyway. “You can’t do this! Switch us back now or I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” Santa asked smugly while turning his gaze towards his former fat body. “Sorry Brett but there’s nothing you can do. I’ve been in need of an upgrade for a long time and your body is the perfect fit.” He added before striking another cocky pose to which the elves began cheering their new Santa on.
“But you can’t… I can’t… I’m not old and fat…” Brett mumbled, looking down at himself again.
Santa sauntered over towards Brett with a confident swagger. “Sorry my boy but… you are.” He leaned in until their faces were only inches apart. It was jarring on a whole other level for Brett to be stared down by his own handsome face. “And I’m young and strong.” He taunted before leaning in even closer until Brett could feel his former body’s hot breath on his ear. “You’re fat and I’m buff. You’re old and I’m young. I’m gorgeous and you’re not. You have a tiny dick and I’m hung… as… fuck.” Santa whispered so the elves didn’t hear but every word shocked Brett to the core as it forced him to come to terms with reality.
“Oops.” Santa said as he glanced down at the already hefty bulge in his underwear starting to grow. “Guess I’m getting a little too excited.” He chuckled. With that he looked over his shoulder at Venix before asking the head scientist to clear the room and shut down the camera’s so they may have some privacy. Before long the elves had all piled out of the room and the two men were finally alone.
“Well I’ve got to say my boy, being inside your body feels even more exhilarating than I’d anticipated. You’ve certainly taken good care of yourself haven’t you? A body like this doesn’t happen overnight. A good diet, lots of exercise. I imagine it took a lot of hard work.” Santa continued to flex and explore his new form. Admiring the definition of each muscle he traced his fingers along. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to try and keep up whatever routines you have to take good care of this body for you.”
By this point Brett was too beaten and embarrassed to even muster a reply. What could he even say at this point anyway? It was already made clear to him that this wasn’t being undone. Santa Claus had stolen his body and there was nothing he could do about it besides accept whatever his new fate was inside this massive new body.
“So what? Am I gonna have to go out on Christmas now? Deliver all your damn presents?” Brett mumbled.
“Oh no not at all. You might look like the jolly old man everyone expects but I’m still Santa Claus. I’ll still be delivering all the presents every Christmas Eve. Lord knows it’ll be easier with this fit body.” He commented before flexing his arm again and kissing his bicep. “You will stay here. My elves will take care of all your needs. They’ll get you everything you need whether that be food, entertainment or anything else within reason. Can’t have you going back to civilisation after all. Not after all this.” The jock sighed.
As bad as this all was for Brett, he had to admit that wasn’t the worst deal. No more responsibilities to worry about. No more work, no more bills, no more working out. He could just laze around and do whatever he wanted.
Santa glanced down at his crotch again. “Well I’m gonna head back to my house in the villa while I’ve got this new cock under control. I’ll send a few elves in to help you out of those restraints when I leave. They’ll show you to your new place.” He explained nonchalantly as he strutted towards the exit, loving the naturally confident way his muscular body moved. “Oh and play nice. If you try anything funny, I’ve given them permission to gas you with more slumber magic.”
With that Brett could do nothing but watch as the new Santa Claus walked away with his body. He still couldn’t quite believe this was all real. He kept thinking that any minute he’d wake up at home in his own bed having just had a bad dream. But as a handful of elves entered the room a few minutes later, it became clearer and clearer to Brett just how real this all was. Santa had stolen his body.
———
The elves couldn’t keep their eyes off the jock that made his way down the corridor. Instead of their usual happy greetings, most elves just looked on curiously. Not knowing what to do or say. Of course him being almost naked with a rather intimidating bulge in his underwear probably had something to do with that. Yet their locked gazes would only serve to make Santa feel even more cocky about his new body. Of course he knew it’d probably take some adjusting for them all in the long term to get used to his new look but he knew that before long they'd be looking at him as if he’d always been a muscle bound hunk.
As soon as he stepped outside, Santa felt a chill run down his body. He was cold. It’d been so long that he’d almost forgotten the feeling. His old body had completely acclimated the temperatures of the North Pole but this new one was unfamiliar. Strangely though he welcomed the feeling. It was yet another sensation that came with this body that almost seemed brand new, once again reminding him of his success. However that didn’t stop him from speeding up his stride to get out of the cold just a bit quicker.
He was released once he finally stepped inside his little house at the top of the villa. The warm and cozy feeling of the permanently Christmas themed home running over him immediately just as it always did. With a sigh Santa stretched his arms above his head as he walked through the living area and towards the bedroom. He passed the kitchen on the way and couldn’t help glancing at the fridge for a moment as he remembered what was in there. Mountains of tasty yet very unhealthy food. “I’ll need to clean that out and put some proper food in as soon as I get the chance.” He thought to himself, not wanting to risk ruining this new body.
Once he entered the bedroom however, that same grin from before re-emerged. Finally he was alone. No elves around to stare, No Brett around to curse him out or beg for his body back. Santa was all alone and finally able to explore the body he’d been fantasising about for months leading up to the swap. The one he’d been jerking off too every other night at the mere thought of touching it. Now it was his. Every inch of that gorgeous muscle he’d been admittedly jealous of while watching Brett sleep was now all under his control!
Right away he began examining his new form properly and where better to start than admiring all of that very muscle! He started by doing the obvious and bringing his arms inwards into an arms and pecs flex. In an instant that soft muscle on his chest hardened into pecs of steel. Veins popping down his forearms in the process while his biceps bulged with strength that Santa had never before felt. Sure he had a little magic power but this power was different. It was raw and physical in a way that made him feel superior.
He continued to go through the motions of performing the typical muscle man poses you’d see meatheads doing all the time. Continuing to flex his arms as he brought them up into the more traditional double bicep pose, his head whipping back and forth between looking at both arms in wonder. Immediately after he bent down slightly while keeping his arms flexed before twisting his body in a way that showed off his huge back and lats. It felt incredible! If he had an audience right now he was sure they’d be eating it up.
Once Santa had finished his little gun show, he moved on to simply groping at his new muscle instead as his hands roamed every inch of his new form. Naturally his pecs were the first to get a squeeze and doing immediately prompted a small groan and twitch from his new cock. Squeezing that firm muscle now that it was his own felt even more erotic than he’d imagined. So much so that both hands lingered on his chest for a good few minutes just groping away. It wasn’t long before he figured out the mind muscle connection to start making his pecs bounce and that action alone was enough to make him start chuckling like an idiot while his new cock grew harder with every bounce.
“Uuuughh… fuuuck yeahhh…” Santa groaned as he used one hand to continue groping at his chest while the other slid down to his crotch. Gently he began to stroke his cock through his underwear and the sensitivity of it was off the charts. He hadn’t even pulled it out yet but just the feeling of his hand rubbing across that fat member was causing shivers to run up his body. He supposed he’d been stuck with that old man dick for so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to have such a young and virile cock. “Mmmm come on Claus… gotta hold it together.” He mumbled to himself as he mustered up the strength to stop rubbing his cock. For now.
After giving himself a moment to calm down and finally being able to pull away from his pecs, Santa began hitting a multitude of different poses. Not just typical bodybuilder poses however. Now he was posing more like a Greek god as he relished in the amount of grace his new form was able to move and pose with.
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Poses that would’ve before been rather unflattering on him now looked awe inspiring. During which he couldn’t help admiring the sheer level of flexibility of his new form. Flexibility that allowed him to effortlessly move into positions that glamorised his muscular form in a way that would’ve inspired many to either look up to him or wish to worship him. Or perhaps both.
Soon enough though, his posing was once again brought to an end by the desire to touch himself. He gave his juicy muscle tits another quick squeeze before moving on to groping his biceps instead. Once again flexing them and loving just how firm and strong they felt. And once he was done with those he couldn’t but admire his thick boulder-like shoulders at least a little. Rubbing them in a way that made it look as though he were giving himself a hug. But after that his interests wandered further south yet again. This time going past his pecs and towards his stomach. Of course he’d already had a chance to admire his new abs a little earlier on but as he brushed his hands across them, he couldn’t help taking notice of the new tattoo on his left side just below his lats.
“Would you look at that. Ain’t ever had tattoos before.” Santa commented as he traced the ink. Of course he’d know about Brett’s tattoos. He’d seen the man pretty much nude enough times to know. But seeing those tattoos now on himself was still an intriguing experience. In fact it only prompted him to look further down at his body towards the much bigger and more noticeable tattoo on his left thigh. It was one of a snake that Santa had to admit looked pretty damn awesome. Though he’d never considered himself a tattoo’s kind of person before with his whole jolly old man persona, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the little bit of ink this new body had. Hell maybe he’d even look into getting a few more some day. Maybe a candy cane or something to reflect his Christmas spirit.
Whilst admiring the snake tattoo, Santa of course couldn’t help admiring the leg it was inked onto in the process. Both of his legs in fact. They were huge! But not in the fat way that they were before. No. Now they were thick and powerful with pure masculinity. He felt as though he could squat a damn mountain! Just every part of this body made him feel invincible to the point where he found himself wondering yet again why the hell he hadn’t done this sooner!?
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Once he was finished admiring his thick new trunks, Santa knew he had to check out the ass. He did his best to look over his shoulder and he could just about catch a glimpse of the round muscle ass he now carried on his backside. He couldn’t help himself. Before Santa even knew it, both his hands slithered towards his backside before latching onto his bubbly cheeks. Once again having a big ass wasn’t anything new to him but just like everything else, now it was large in a different way that was so much more satisfying. Santa just couldn’t stop himself from placing each hand below one cheeks before jiggling his ass. Feeling the muscle wobble behind him had to have been one of the most erotic things he’d felt in a long time. So much so that it looked as though his cock was going to burst out of his underwear at any second with how stiff it was!
He couldn’t ignore it any longer. This new cock was begging for his attention. Demanding it even. And who was he to ignore it’s call. And so rather than pulling off his underwear, in a moment of horniness, Santa uses his newfound strength to rip a hole in the front of them instead and doing so only turned him on even more. A youthful cock bucking and leaking as it was finally set free from his prison. And with a face full of pure lust, Santa gripped his stolen cock with an iron grip and started stroking it intensely.
“Mmmmm… soooo haaarrrdddd! Soooo haarrrrddddd!!!” Santa moaned using Brett’s deep tone as he was consumed by desire. He hadn’t had an erection this stiff in centuries. It felt so incredible to the point where the lust itself was driving him mad!and it certainly didn’t help that this body hadn’t nutted in months over the time that Brett had been unconscious. These new bull nuts of his were practically begging to blow his seed everywhere.
He was so horny. So god damn horny. The more he stoked, the harder it was to think about anything but his dick. “Gotta cum! Gotta cum!” He would start to groan. It was like his cock had taken over his mind and all he wanted now was to unload his balls. So much so that he’d begun jerking his dick with an incredibly fiery passion. All the while literally everything from the feeling of his muscular body to the sound of his new voice only continued to ramp his horniness up further and further .
Naturally it wasn’t long before he could feel himself starting to get close. But as he did his body reacted on its own. Instead of continuing to jerk his cock normally, Santa leapt onto the bed and immediately began humping his bed sheets. Rubbing his cock aggressively against the sheets as if he were fucking something. His thick muscle ass rising up and down with every thrust while his moans only grew needier. And just as his body was on autopilot, his mind was as well as he started to imagine his head scientist Venix on the bed below him. The small yet hairy little elf took the pounding of a lifetime as Santa stuffed his fat new cock inside the elf’s hole. God it was so hot as he thought of Venix’s cry’s of pleasure mixing with his own. It was sending him into a tailspin! At this rate he was gonna-
“UGH! UGHHH! UUGHHHHHHHHhuuuuuuuu…” Santa found himself clenching his new muscle ass while shooting what was probably the fattest load of his life all over the bed sheets below, splattering them in his thick jock seed. And it just wouldn’t stop. His dick was like a broken faucet that couldn’t stop leaking. Every time he thought it was over, his body would clench again and another rope of cum would shoot from his cock. It wasn’t until the bed below him seemed nearly drenched in cum did it finally seem to stop.
With that the hunk let himself drop limp onto the bed despite dampness. “Holy… that was… incredible.” Santa was at last able to say as his mind cleared again. After which he simply just smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest in the puddle of his own cum for a while.
Buuuut his rest didn’t last long. After all that Santa knew he was gonna need a nice long shower to clean up and he couldn’t have been more excited to lather up this new form with soap. And so he hopped off the bed yet again with ease with his cock still bouncing eagerly between his legs. Somehow after all of that it was already hard again! It was unreal but Santa certainly wasn’t complaining as he reached down and grabbed his still dripping before smacking it against his other hand a few times. “God it feels good to be young and hung.”
Santa quickly swiped up another pair of grey boxer briefs he had ready to go for once he’d taken this body and began pulling them on. He didn’t need to really but he was just curious to see if they actually fit him now. After awkwardly tucking his erection into the front, they fit pretty well. He loved how the tight fit showed off not only his bulge but his ass so damn well also. Following this however he immediately got to work pulling off his sheets and stripping it all down so it was ready to be washed.
Once that was taken care of however, Santa stepped foot in the bathroom and finally caught sight of his reflection. Somehow he’d managed to miss almost every mirror on his way home but now as he stood before his own bathroom mirror, he could finally see what he was working with reflected back at him. Instead of the flabby figure this mirror had grown accustomed to showing every day, now it showed something far superior. A jock. A hunk. A hot fucking meathead. But it wasn’t just his body, it was his face.
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Seeing that handsome face in the mirror was both jarring and at the same time the most incredible thing Santa could’ve imagined. Seeing every feature move under his own accord. Every blink, every twitch. All of it was him. Even after all that it was still hard to believe and his brain was still trying to catch up. Despite that he found himself reaching up and running his fingers gently across his new features. Inspecting them all so carefully. Running a hand softly through his thick brown hair before bringing it down to rub through his short new beard. Feeling how smooth his young new skin felt in comparison to the wrinkles he’d known for so long. Even simply finding wonder in the fact that things such as his nose were a different size and shape compared to before. It was all these little details rolled into one that made the whole experience so extraordinary.
He must've stood in front of the mirror for nearly an hour as he admired both his face and body. And half of that time was spent with his back to the mirror so he could stare at the reflection of his jock butt. It was addictive. And the whole time his cock was pressing angrily against his underwear once again. He’d really have to find a way to keep that thing under control otherwise it was gonna be hard to even leave the house without the elves all locking eyes with his crotch whenever he went anywhere.
“Well. Suppose I should actually get on with things.” He thought to himself with a sigh as he took one last look in the mirror before kicking off the new underwear once more. And with that he grinned as he flipped on the shower and stepped under the steaming water and allowed it to cascade down his body and cock. With how his monstrous member was already bucking at him again, Santa had a feeling he probably wouldn’t be stepping out of the shower again until he’d busted another nut…
———
Almost six months had passed since Santa had stolen Brett’s body. It was December 23rd and Christmas was right around the corner. Usually at this time of the year the elves had already finished making all their toys and they’d all be celebrating alongside Santa with a huge buffet meal. But this year things were a little different.
Brett, in Santa’s original body, was present at the buffet and digging in just as Santa usually would. The real Santa on the other had only stayed for a while to celebrate and eat his healthy prepped food but eventually he had to leave so he could get his last Pre-Christmas workout in.
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Even since before the swap, Santa had been getting a gym built out of preparation. It was a little side project he had going on while the swapping machine was being constructed. That said ever since the swap he’s been making incredible use of it. He’d been going in there at least 6 times a week religiously which hadn’t been too difficult thanks to the routine his new body already had installed into it. The workouts themselves however were a little rough to begin with. He did better than expected thanks to muscle memory but he still needed to do a lot of research before he was performing at the same level Brett once was in the gym. But with how determined Santa was to keep this body as huge and jacked as possible, it wasn’t long before he was practically a pro in the gym. He was lifting weight like a beast and always pushing his muscles to their limits. And he loved every second! The feeling of it was invigorating to him now. So much so that he actually needed to force himself to take a day off most days but even then he’d usually end up doing some cardio in the form of jogging around the villa.
It was almost incredible how well he’d taken to fitness. It was the only thing he’d been worried about before the swap. Worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep up the intense routine that Brett did to forge this body. Worried that he’d end up getting lazy and lose all the muscle he was about to steal. But the result was the complete opposite. If anything he was pushing himself even further than Brett ever could with how much more free time he had in comparison. Just in the last couple of months he could swear he’s not only been able to maintain his jockish form but has even grown a tad bit bigger!
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A small crowd of elves had even come to watch him workout which Santa didn’t mind in the slightest. If anything it just gave him a chance to show off just how fucking swole he was. He just adored seeing the shocked looks on their faces as he did multiple sets with weights that some of the elves wouldn’t even be able to move on their own. It only fuelled Santa’s cocky ego even further.
That was something a lot of eleven had begun to notice about their new leader. His ego. At the end of the day he was still incredibly kind and jolly but most had to admit that he wasn’t quite as humble as he was before. At least not when it came to his body. He never had any problems showing off his physique and flexing cockily for the elves just for them to shower him in praise. Even now as he wore his baggy Christmas get up that’d been resized to fit his new body, he still looked incredible!
Santa continued going through the motions of it all until finally his workout came to end. He racked up his weights and grabbed the fluffy red jacket he’d discarded part way through his session with a satisfied smile on his face as he made his way over to the pack of elves.
“Ahhhhhh… all ready for tomorrow night I think guys.” Santa commented while hitting a quick pose which was fast met with applause.
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“Can’t wait for my first big night with this form. Can’t wait to see how much easier it’s going to be now.” He laughed. It was truly an exciting occasion. Sure he’d done his Christmas run hundreds of times but this year he could tell it was going to be truly special. More so than it’d been in a long time for him. But that wasn’t just because he’d be checking himself out on every reflective surface he saw while delivering presents. It was also because he had an amazing present of his own waiting for him when he got home…
After that first day in this new body when he’d fantasied about fucking Venix’s brains out, Santa hadn’t been able to help making subtle moves on the intelligent elf who’d lead the project that’d given him this body. Dropping hints every now and then that made the elf blush profusely until one day Santa couldn’t stop himself. Without thinking he grabbed Venix and pinned him against a wall with ease before pressing their bearded lips together. After that it wasn’t long before the two found a supply closet in the laboratory building and Santa used his new fat cock to resize Venix’s hole.
Ever since then Santa had been fucking Venix constantly to satiate his cock’s desire. So much so that Venix practically moved into Santa’s little house. The two never explicitly why they’d made this decision but most of the elves had a good idea given this new ‘young and hung’ version of Santa.
And so the plan was for Santa to arrive back home on Christmas morning and as soon as the festivities were over, he and Venix would be spending the rest of Christmas locked up in Santa’s bedroom as he filled the hairy elf to the brim with jock cum over and over until Santa was finally satisfied. He’d say it was going to be a Christmas to remember but chances were all he was gonna remember were the sounds of his fat bull balls smacking loudly against Venix’s ass in every which position…
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Hope you all enjoyed this late Christmas Present from yours truly! Happy New Years to you all! 💜💜💜
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specialagentlokitty · 2 months
Text
Rossi x reader - trust in you
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hi, I hope you’re doing well 🫶🏻 I was wondering if I could please request something where reader desperately wants relapse with sh but instead winds up talking to her father figure hotch or Rossi (or both)? No pressure if you don’t want to write it. I absolutely love your writing 🥰🥰 - @twwobsessed 💜
TW: mentions of self harm and negative thoughts
Some cases hit people harder than others, usually you were able to remain objective about the cases, put all those normal thoughts of sadness, despite, hatred for people to the back of your mind.
But your most recent case had you finding it hard to do that, it hit a little too close to home for you, and no one on the team knew that, you carried on going through it.
You saw the case through to the end, but it was hard, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it as you flicked through the book in your lap, pretending you were reading.
You didn’t really talk to anybody when you got back, instead of doing your paperwork like normal you went straight back home.
You went for a bath, made a cup of tea, tried reading a book but nothing was helping you relax.
You had resorted to pacing back and forth along your hallway, pinging the elastic band around your wrist, trying to resist the unbearable urge you had to scratch, to try get rid of this itch that seemed to be buried deep within your skin.
You knew scratching wouldn’t work, no matter how much you scratch you would never be able to get rid of that itch.
Your brain was running a million miles an hour with all the thoughts, feelings and urges you had worked through a long time ago.
But they came back.
It was like you could never escape, no matter how well you seemed to be doing they always came back, always haunting you.
Your own mind begging you to inflict pain on yourself.
You didn’t want to, you had been clean for nearly a year, you had fought this all by yourself, you had never told anybody about your struggles.
Everybody struggled, dealt things their own way and this is how you had been ever since you were a teenager, even when you went through the academy, even as you joined the BAU, where you had been for the past three years.
You kept it all to yourself.
It was destroying you.
It was going to destroy you and you knew that.
You didn’t want to do this anymore, you didn’t want to go back into that life, you didn’t want to slip into old habits.
Grabbing your keys, you pulled on one of your hoodies and went to your car, heading to the person you knew would most likely still be up at this time.
You didn’t have your phone so you couldn’t call saying you were outside, so you settled for just knocking on the door until you finally heard somebody coming over.
Lowering your hand, you watched as the door was swung open, showing the worried and confused face of your coworker.
“(Y/N) what’s wrong?” Rossi asked.
You took a shaky breath, running a hand down your face.
“I.. I.. I need help…” you whispered.
“Come here, come on.”
Rossi held his hand out for you and you took it, letting him pull you in for a hug as he closed his front door.
Tears fell from your eyes, and you quietly sobbed, gripping the back of his shirt tightly.
“I.. I can’t do this anymore…”
Rossi held the back of your head, running a hand up and down your back.
“I need you to tell me what happened…” he whispered.
“I can’t.. I don’t… I can’t.. I can’t do this alone anymore…”
Rossi pulled away, placing a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the couch, gently sitting you down.
“Wait right here.”
He rushed away to get you a glass of water, and he came back, handing it out to you and you set it on the table.
Rossi also get down a box of tissues for you, and he finally sat down, taking one of your hands in his.
“I need you to talk to me (Y/N)…” he whispered.
You sniffled a little bit, running a hand down your face as you took a deep breath.
“This case.. I.. it brought back memories…”
Rossi slowly nodded his head.
“I.. I lived the same way as the victims…”
“(Y/N) the unsub chose his victims because he believed they could never recover, he believed they were sick, and they needed help to die. You know this. He targeted people who used forms of self harm as a method to get through every day life.”
You sniffled a little bit, slowly nodded your head.
“I know… that’s why I.. I.. I couldn’t help you…”
“You said you were called away on an urgent matter.”
You shook your head.
“I lied…”
“We would have known.”
You left out a weak laugh, burying your face in your arms tapping the back of your head a few times.
“I got so used to lying that I… I learned how to tell the perfect lie…”
“(Y/N) did you do something? Did something happen?” Rossi asked.
“No.. no that’s.. that uh.. why I came here…”
Rossi slowly nodded his head and you sat up, carefully rolling the sleeves of your hoodies up.
Rossi reached out, hesitating before he gently took one of your arms.
He ran he thumb along the rigid scars that were embedded deep in your skin.
He could tell they were old, and he didn’t need to ask in order to figure out what they were caused by.
“How long were you doing this to yourself?”
“Years…”
He nodded, pulling your sleeve down for you, and he did the same to your other arm, letting you go ahead and hide them once again.
Rossi held his arms around for you.
You shuffled over, letting him hold you, resting your head on his shoulder.
“I need you to tell me everything (Y/N), okay? You can’t leave anything out.”
You nodded in agreement.
You told Rossi everything, from how and when it started, to when you managed to stop and everything in between.
Rossi didn’t speak, he quietly listened to you, and when you stopped talking that’s when he spoke up.
“Was it something in the case that trigged this emotions for you?” He asked.
You nodded again.
“Going through their lives, seeing how they all had the same trauma, the same feelings of wanting to just disappear.. knowing I had the same thoughts.. it.. it made me realise that could have been me…”
“What makes you think that?”
“Rossi he was the third therapist in my list in case I couldn’t get to the other two…”
You felt his grip tighten around you, and he ran his hand up and down your arm.
“I got the second one on the list…”
Rossi slowly nodded his head.
“I.. I can’t do this alone Rossi…”
“You’re not alone (Y/N), you’re never alone. You know this. You have a whole team, a whole family behind you, willing to support you if you asked them.”
You shook your head.
“No.. no I.. I don’t.. don’t tell them…”
“Alright, I don’t have to tell the team anything. But I need you to promise me something.”
You sniffled a little, nodding your head.
“You keep coming here, to me, if you get these feelings again. You never harm yourself again, can you promise me that?”
You nodded again.
“Good, now, I just so happened to be getting ready to cook. Your favourite in fact, would you like to help me?”
You sat up, looking at him as you wiped the tears from under your eyes.
“Do you get that funky cheese I like?”
This made Rossi chuckle a little bit.
“Yes, I got the mozzarella, and I got everything you need to make your own mozzarella sticks since you seem to enjoy them so much.”
You stood up, sorrowing up your sleeves as you followed him to the kitchen and he got everything you needed to make your favourite snacks.
Rossi noted the elastic band around your wrist, and he said nothing about it.
“Thank you for trusting me.” He said quietly.
You smiled a little at him.
“Thank you for always being there for me…”
Rossi smiled, placing his hand on your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.
“I’m always here for you kiddo.”
You nodded your head, going back to making your snacks while he began cooking the actual meal itself
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whimsyfinny · 3 months
Text
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)
Chapter Word Count: 2318
—-MDNI—-
A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.
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Please Read the Below First:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid
Chapter 5
After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.
“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.
“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.
“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.
“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.
“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.
“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”
Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.
“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.
“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”
“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.
I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.
After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.
“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.
I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.
And again.
And again.
And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.
*
Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.
I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.
“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”
He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.
“You’re the first one who thinks so”.
“Oh yeah?”
“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.
“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.
“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.
“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.
“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.
“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.
“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.
“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”
“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.
“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.
“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.
“Back to normal. Got it.”
“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.
“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.
“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:
Fucking Winchester.
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Up Next:
Chapter 6
251 notes · View notes
rainstops · 4 months
Text
found colors for unspoken feelings
childe x gn!artist!reader warnings: fights, scars, small mentions of blood
summary: childe got into a fight with you over something you loved doing. he immediately regret the words he said, but even worse than that, he brought back an old habit of yours which he fought so hard to get rid off
a/n: eurgh this took me so long for no reason...
wc: 2.9k
you had these scars on your hands, and you hated them. no one knew where they came from except for your boyfriend, childe. he has caressed your hands so many times, and told you before, that he doesn't mind the crescent shaped marks on your hand. 
he knew you used to press your nails into your palm so hard, that they started to bleed. you’re an artist, and always wanted to do something with your talent, yet your parents were more than just unsupportive of your dreams. they started suggesting that you put your free time in something other than your ‘little doodles’. 
yet their words grew harsher and harsher over the years you lived. 
whenever you were once again told that you're useless, and that your paintings don't look any different from those compared to a five year old, your hands would start bleeding again. 
maybe you would've given it all up, if it wasn't for your, at that time, friend childe. he was your rock, your support in all of this. 
how many times had you texted him late in the evening and asked him if you could stay over at his place? how many times had he cleaned out the wounds on your palms? 
He helped you move out of your parents house, into your current shared apartment, and helped you be comfortable drawing again. 
yet even with all of his support, you grew protective of your work. you barely told anyone about what you did, and was afraid of taking criticism. 
one person you were not afraid of though. you were never too afraid to ask childe for his opinion on your recent piece. you were never too afraid to turn around the canvas, and show him what you had done with your time. 
and everytime again, he was proud of you. he peppered your face with kisses, and told you what he especially liked. 
and over the years, even your so much hated scars started to fade. 
apparently his job has started to take a lot more from his energy though. 
he never said that, but you just assume that that is the reason for his lack of response to your proudly painted canvas.
nowadays you never got more from him, other than a simple ‘i like it’, or even just a hum of approval. 
and it got you thinking, if you would stop showing him what you had done, would he care enough to ask? 
so that's what you did. 
the next day when he came home from work, you didn't ask if you could show him what you had painted. you simply greeted him with a warm dinner, and a kiss on the lips. you hadn't mentioned your art for the whole day. 
but still, while lying in bed, your thoughts told you that he was probably just exhausted, and that he might have forgotten, but tomorrow he will surely ask you about it!
he never asked you about anything. 
was he really that forgetful? a week had passed, and you just wanted to show him one piece, that took you significantly long. 
“babe, i have something to show you!”, the excitement not fading even though childe had forgotten what you spent the majority of your time with. 
“sure what is it?”, your boyfriend didn't even look up from his dinner, but that was okay! he was probably just really hungry. 
“i’ll get it!”
you quickly ran to your room, and grabbed the beautifully painted canvas. 
yet childes reaction was as little as the hope you had left for any sign that you two were not drifting apart. 
“oh, that's cool babe”
thats cool?
you felt your heart clench, when you realized that's all he had to say. still, you weren't ready to give up yet. 
“what do you like about it?”, what were you even trying. 
childe took another look at the painting, and then at you. 
“i don't know, it looks pretty though”, you quietly looked away. 
“okay, thanks for your feedback, I’ll be heading to sleep now”, you smiled, but the hole in your heart was growing by the second. “alright good night babe”
the bed felt cold. you hugged your own body, trying to keep yourself warm, yet the cold sheets you were lying between made you shiver. 
you could no longer blame childes dismissive act on his work, and him being so exhausted. what could have changed your boyfriend so much, that he was no longer the person that made you feel so safe? a tear rolled down your cheek, onto your pillow. 
when you woke up that morning, childe was not there. you assumed he must have headed to work earlier than usually. 
you forced yourself out of bed, ignoring how heavy your body felt on your legs. that was when a specific thought came to mind. maybe you should start showing your boyfriend your drawings without him having to ask. and maybe, just maybe, he would start being excited to see them again. 
you don't remember what made you come to this conclusion. maybe desperation for the love you used to feel everyday, which had now left your life as quick as it had appeared. 
so that's what you did. everyday you had proudly presented your boyfriend your drawings which you had put minute after minute and hour after hour of your days into. longing for his love and attention back you were ready to do anything. 
probably if you had told anyone how you felt, and what you were doing, they would have called you desperate. 
but no one could expect from you to give up the love that had saved you over and over again. no one could expect that you would give up the only person who was there for you in your hardest and happiest times. 
so youre not giving up yet. 
even though childes lack of enthusiasm remained the same, you were glad he was at least not shaming you for your hobby like your parents used to. you don't know how you would react if he were to act that way, but it was childe you were talking about. 
you were convinced he could never even act that way. 
but how long could you still continue this? everyday where you presented your work to him, and he would just react with a disinterested ‘nice’, felt like a weakening punch in the gut. 
this wasn’t working. maybe you should just talk to him about his lack of a reaction to your hobby and your work. the work which he used to love so much. 
so maybe that was the right thing to do.
when he came home from that specific day at work, you had shown him a drawing which was especially big. you had put so much work into it, you barely took a break the whole day to make sure it was finished before he came home. 
maybe you were going to get a bigger reaction out of him this time. 
“looks great babe”
he didn’t even look at it. 
what were you doing wrong? 
“childe, you didn’t even look at it”, maybe you really needed to talk to him. 
“huh?”, seriously? did he even care? has he never even listened to you?
“childe you don’t even care about my drawings like you used to, do you?”, suddenly he got up from his chair. and you put down your drawing, leaning it against the wall. 
childe rubbed his face. “you know [name], I’m really tired, can we discuss this some other time?”, you had told yourself for so long that he was just tired, but was that even true?
“childe you’ve been tired for months now. don’t get me wrong, i cant even begin to imagine how exhausting your job must be, but I don’t even really feel like you acknowledge me, other than eating the food i cook for you”
you had to try really hard for this to not turn into an argument. emphasis on tried, because childe was not willing to listen to you. it felt like he was never going to be listening to you, and you needed to get that out of your system. maybe this wouldn't be the best time to tell him, but was it ever going to be the best time?
“i understand that you might be tired, but just tell me what happened? why are you being like this?”, your tone remained calm, yet your muscles tensed up.
“all i am asking of you is the attention that you used to give me. i understand that you can be tired when coming home from work, that's not something i'm denying, but-”
“look, [name], do you really want to know?”, his tone was a lot harsher than yours, and it made a shiver travel up your spine. 
you took a second, but nodded and gave him a hum. 
“you know that while i am going out to work, and let you stay here all day, all you do is paint and draw. you know that there are so many things that you could spend your time with, but instead you waste your day just holding a paintbrush all day”, childe words were absolutely taking you apart. wether that was his intention or not, that's what he had achieved. 
when you two first moved into the apartment, you had told him that you would go find a job, but he insisted that you should stay home. if he had anything to say, or if he had wished for you to get a job, he could have said so, couldn't he? 
“childe if you had wanted me to get a job, you could have said so. i would have started looking for someth-”
“you're missing the point! i am saying that you keep wasting all your time, and then expect me to praise you for it! your stupid drawings are just a huge waste of your days! every single day i come home and you remind me of how much you waste your time! do you seriously think that i could be proud of you for that?!” 
maybe trying to confront him today wasn't such a good idea, yet this felt like it was a really long time coming. 
when you blinked, you found little tears collected in the corners of your eyes. yet even when they fell childe didn't notice. he kept ranting on and on about things he had already said. 
while he kept talking and talking, your nails had found your palms once again. an old habit you had wished to finally be rid off. 
the memories came flooding back of your parents shouting at you for the same thing, your boyfriend was shouting at you right now. the same boyfriend that first safed you of the mental torture your parents put you through. the same boyfriend who would cut your nails for you, so the wounds wouldn't be so bad. the same boyfriend who had praised you for your talent. 
the stupid thing about this was that childe isn't actually mad about you wasting your day. he wasn't even able to put an exact finger on it. you could blame it on him being exhausted from work, and needing to take out his exhaustion somewhere, or maybe he was mad about not spending enough time with you. maybe he was mad at himself for not giving you enough attention, but the hurtful things have been said, and there was nothing he could do to take them back. 
when childe finally looked at you after ranting for a good minute, his heart dropped to his stomach and maybe even further. 
there you were standing, sniffling, looking down at your feet while your nails were digging into the soft flesh of your palms. your face was wet from your tears, and your hand only reached up to wipe them away, and then to return into a tight fist. 
“i understand, I hic i will draw less, and find better things to do”
childe often found himself wishing to be able to turn back the time, but never had he prayed so hard for being able to take back his words. 
“w-wait, [name] i-”, childe felt like all the words and apologies he could have given you were knocked out of his brain in an instant, and he panicked when you wanted to walk past him to leave the room. 
although the worst thing was that you were pressing your nails so hard into your palms again, to a point where you were bleeding from the amount of pressure you were releasing. childe felt as if he had been punched into the stomach. the habit of yours that he was fighting so hard to get rid off, had returned. it had returned because of him. 
“[name] please i don't know why i said that, i was just- maybe i was just tired from work, although i cant blame it on that-”, childe frantically took your hands into his, yet your nails already had your blood on them.
childe felt like a world in front of his eyes fell apart. the bad habit of yours that he tried fighting for so long, was close to returning. he was the one who tore your scars back open, and there was nothing he could do about it. 
“[name], [name] please- I didnt mean to say these things, please”, all childe could do was beg and repeat your name over and over as he felt his eyes water. 
he frantically held your hands, and let you to a chair, to sit down. tears were still repeatedly staining your face, and childe had rushed off to get some bandages for your hands. 
childe rushed back and almost fell down onto his knees in front of you. 
“please just let me-”, childe proceeded to clean your wounds a little, and then bandage up your hand. while he was handling your hand, you didnt move or talk one bit. other than quiet sniffles, you just let childe do what he needed to do. in the mean time, your head hung low and your eyes havent stopped staring at that one spot on your leg. 
you didnt know how to feel. how could you? the one person you believed you could turn to, whenever your parents were rude to you, has done the same thing you were so afraid of happening again. and why? because of stress at work? because he had a bad day? 
“[name] i know youre mad, just please- please say anything”, childe pleaded with you. 
“I’m not mad”, you replied and your voice broke. you werent even sure if that was true. you were more hurt than angry, but then again you were also just confused. 
“its late… can i go to bed?”, why were you asking him? 
“of course- anything you want, I’ll sleep on the couch for tonight”, you were both crying and overwhelmed by emotions. 
you nodded and headed up the stairs to the room you and childe usually shared. a million thoughts flooded your mind, but for some reason your chest felt so empty. 
the person you usually relied on when you felt this way, was now the cause of your feelings. who were you supposed to turn to? 
then another thought filled your head. what if your parents were right all along? maybe you should have done anything else but waste your life painting stupid pictures. 
you cried yourself to sleep that night. 
and even after you woke up, you could feel the daggers that were sent through your heart. 
you opened the door to your room. “childe?”, you called out, your voice being utterly shaky. 
was he at work? 
when you opened the door to your art room, you didnt expect childe to be sitting in the middle of your paintings. you couldnt read the expression which was resting on hsi face. 
what childe hadnt realized was that these paintings were small pieces of your soul. every single one of the paintings were thoughts and feelings that you couldnt find the words for, so instead you found the colors for your unspoken feelings. childe has never wished for anything as much as he has wished that he paid more attention to you.
“childe…?”, your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and his head shot towards the door. 
“oh- sorry i was just… well uh, do you need anything?”, childe stammered, getting up from his sitting position. 
“i was just looking for you… why are you here?”, your voice remained quiet and shaky. 
“i was just… looking at all your work that i had missed… and all the time… well uh- if you want me to leave ill go-”
“its… its okay i just wanted to see where you were” with those words you turned around, about to leave the room. 
“wait-! [name] I… I’m sorry, I dont know what to say to let you know how bad i feel-”
“childe i know”, his face was met with the sight of a sad smile on your face. 
“w-what can i do to make you feel better? I’ll do anything- please”
“I dont know, honestly…”, a shaky sigh escaped your lungs. 
“please… know that i love you [name], more than anything”
“i… love you too”
part 2? reblogs are appreciated!
162 notes · View notes
jelliessoap · 7 months
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COD MEN AND THEIR DOGS!
just my hcs for the dogs they would get!
TF141 + könig
gn!reader, fluff, no warnings really, adopt dont shop y’all !! , gifs not mine! can u tell im a dog person
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cavalier king charles spaniel!
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- didn’t plan on getting a dog until he came home and found you with a little cavalier pup in your lap
- a sweet girl with an old lady name like marjorie
- wasn’t super affectionate towards her until he was napping like an old man in his recliner and she curled up on his lap
- he woke up and acted annoyed, looked around to see if you were there then looked back at her and couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he pet her.
- life changed
- this dog is precious to him
- only the best brands of food, most reputable groomers, always has her favorite treats stocked up, wouldn’t trust anyone to watch her.
- you thought you loved this dog? john loves her 10 times more.
- christmas cards with your dog
- wedding pics with your dog
- she was def in your wedding
- the dog is queen of the house and you’re both totally fine with that
- your guys’ child tbh
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a blue staffordshire bull terrier
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- wanted to get you a guard dog, you insisted on adopting from a shelter
- was looking for a big mean scary looking dog but said he didn’t like their ‘attitudes’ (leave it to simon.)
- almost left empty handed but a little staffy caught your eye.
- stole your heart immediately the little guy was wagging his tail and sitting patiently at the kennel door. when the shelter staff explained he was a rescue from dog fights and had some temperament issues so he wasn’t easily adoptable he stole ghost’s heart.
- saw himself in the dog
- needless to say you took home that little staffy
- surprisingly patient with the pup and his behavioral issues
- he nipped at ghost once out of nerves and you prepared for the worst but ghost backed off to give him space instead
- invests in a lot of training for him, will switch trainers if he finds their methods are too hard on your pup
- i think the dog would bring you two closer and let him open up more, especially as the training goes on and there’s noticeable progress
- brings out a different side of ghost tbh, much more vulnerable and happy. not a care in the world when he’s with that dog
- remembers the adoption date and literally takes the dog for a day out, a (pup friendly) meal, a run around the park, a new toy, and finally a fancy ass treat when you’re all back home together
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2 scottish terriers
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- would not choose to own a dog per say, he basically is one doesn’t need another
- you already had dogs when you started dating and he would never ask you to get rid of them, they were your babies and you made that clear when you blabbered about them non stop your first date
- never saw himself settling down so seriously so he didn’t think much of it
- now he lives with two dogs, scottish terriers funny enough
- acts like he doesn’t like them
- calls them tweedledee and tweedledum
- definitely frantically researches if the dogs can have a bite of his dinner and gives them some if they can. not because the food is bad but because its so good he wants them to experience it too
- new dog toys keep appearing that you didn’t buy but soap insists it wasn’t him
- gets jealous when they’re on your lap getting all your attention
- you have to pet him too
- you went on a trip once and he stayed with the dogs, when you came back they were all sleeping in your bed
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dalmatian
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- no rhyme or reason for this one he just gives me a dalmatian vibe
- would probably have a male dog named pongo like from 101 dalmatians
- got the dog before you met i think
- loves playing fetch with him
- takes the dog on runs regularly
- absolutely dresses him up for halloween
- brags about your dog a lot
- probably has a pic of you and the dog sleeping as his lock screen or something
- pls take pics of the dog to send to him while he’s deployed or to show him when he gets home
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dachshund
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- you guys adopted him together a little after you first were engaged
- he named it zerstörer ( destroyer )
- runt of the litter
- definitely buys him little shirts
- “zerstörer nein!! drop my mask!!”
- has lost many masks to zerstörer
- this dog is a menace but könig loves him
- zerstörer runs your house like an evil monarch
- “mein schatz you can’t be mad at him…he is so little and cute…”
- pray you don’t have kids bc you guys will be walked all over by them könig is a sucker
- actually gets upset when someone calls him a wiener dog
- “nein. zerstörer is no wiener.😒😒”
- carrying him around all sassy like
358 notes · View notes
softspiderling · 2 months
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catch me or i go (houdini) | r.c.
summary: rafe witnesses a skilled burglar in the middle of the burglary. also, he can’t quiet seem to stop putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to you
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
word count: 6,6k words oops
warnings: mention of peterkin and what rafe did to her, cursing
author's note: i was listening to houdini by dua lipa and somehow got inspired to write this. also kind of lost myself in this fic bc i enjoyed writing it so much. pls leave a comment/like if you liked it and reblog to share. ily!!!
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“Are you sure you want to sell it off? We can put it in storage for you.”
Rafe waved the guy off, pushing a fifty in his hand. “It’s fine, just sell it for me, I don’t want to see it again, it’s gaudy as fuck.”
The guy, Jacob or whatever, scratched his head, but seemed pleased enough with the tip that he got into the car with the rest of his team, the trucks pulling off the property.
“Fucking finally,” Rafe sighed, running his hands over his buzzed hair. The renovation of the house was his first step of distancing himself from Ward and he started by getting rid of the ridiculous furniture Rose had chosen. While Rafe knew that it was going to be a pain redecorating, he’d live in the comfort of his own space, instead of being reminded of his psychotic stepmother whenever he sat in the living room. Rafe was about to go back inside when he heard a loud crash coming from Mr. Jenkins’ property. He hesitated for a split second. Rafe never really liked Mr. Jenkins, he was a nosy motherfucker and always liked to call the sheriff’s department when the parties got a little louder than usual. But if that old fuck died right now only to be found like a few weeks later? That stench would probably sit in his nose for months. So might as well be proactive now.
Ducking between the bushes - he really needed to call the guy who trimmed their greens - Rafe jogged over to Mr. Jenkins’ property, slowing his pace when he reached the property line.
“Mr. Jenkins?” he called, trying to sneak a glance into the house, without being spotted at the same time. It’d just be his luck that Mr. Jenkins shot him in the face for evading his property.
Nothing.
Served him right for trying to do the right thing.
Rafe turned on his heel, ready to return home when he caught movement in the second story window: Someone was climbing out of the window.
Reacting quickly, Rafe ducked beneath the bushes, hiding as he watched a girl shut the window behind her, tiptoeing across the patio roof and then scaling down the gutter, all the while carrying a huge backpack. She must’ve robbed Mr. Jenkins’ house, based on her dark clothing and the red bandana covering half of her face.
Rafe’s curiosity was piqued, and he didn’t even hesitate to follow her as she snuck off the property through the yard. He kept in the shadows, not wanting to alert her to his presence as she kept a rather slow pace to keep the attention off of her. Rafe followed her a few blocks down the neighborhood, until she took a left turn into a small, dark alley, but he hid behind the corner of a house when she stopped, pulling the bandana off. Rafe stared at the side of her face, knowing he’d seen her somewhere before, but not quite remembering where from. The lighting was also not helping, as he barely could make out her features in the shadows, while she tugged a floral shirt out of the backpack, throwing it over her black top. After having fixed her outfit, she kept walking, and right as Rafe stepped out behind the house, his foot caught onto an empty glass bottle, making an unnecessary loud noise.
Rafe froze, noticing how her shoulders tensed, barely looking over her shoulder, before taking off in a sprint.
“Wait!” He called, probably the dumbest thing he could have said, running after her but even before rounding the second right corner, she disappeared.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but nothing. One of his neighbors was outside tending to her flowers, giving him a weird look. Rafe only let out a polite chuckle, giving her a wave before he turned on his heel, making his way back home.
“How the fuck did she just disappear into thin air?” He muttered to himself. As he walked through his gate, he couldn’t help to peek over to Jenkins’ house if the old man was home already, but the house was still dark. Rafe tried to get back to work looking at new furniture, but his mind kept going back to the thief. As the sun started to set Rafe finally heard Jenkins’ Aston Martin pull into his drive way, and he figured it wouldn’t take long until the sheriff’s department showed up.
Minutes went by, then hours, and Rafe started to wonder if there was some other case Shoupe had to attend to, must be a real big case if he couldn’t even spare one deputy to check out Jenkins. Then again, Rafe would’ve had heard about it. Kildare wasn’t that big. It was already dark by the time the sheriff’s car pulled up on the street. Shortly after, the bell rang and as inconspicuously as possible, Rafe opened the door, feigning surprise.
“Shoupe. What brings you here at this hour?”
The sheriff only looked at Rafe unimpressed. He was pretty sure that Shoupe still resented him for the entire Peterkin thing, but innocent until proven guilty, right?
“Rafe… There was a break in at Mr. Jenkins’ house and I’m just here to ask if you saw anything suspicious,” Shoupe said, flipping open a small notepad.
Rafe rubbed his chin, sighing. “A break in huh? That sucks. I haven’t heard anything, though, sorry that I am of no help. What was stolen?”
“Jewelry that belonged to his late wife. The thief broke into the safe and completely emptied it. Took all the cash, too,” Shoupe said, scribbling something down on his notepad before looking at Rafe again.
“Bummer… I’ll let you know though, if I happen to remember something,” Rafe added.
Shoupe let out a grunt, stuffing his notepad away and turned to leave. Rafe stood in the doorway, hesitating, before calling out.
“Hey Shoupe.”
He turned around, raising a brow at Rafe.
“What took you guys so long?”
“What do you mean, son? We got here as soon as Mr. Jenkins called us.”
Huh.
“Really?” Rafe said, thinking. “Sorry, I just thought Mr. Jenkins has been home for a while now and you’re just now questioning me. Was wondering how fast you would get here if I had a problem.”
Shoupe eyed him suspiciously. “Mr. Jenkins didn’t notice the break in until an hour ago, his security system was active when he got home, so he had no reason to suspect anything…. You sure you didn’t see anything?”
“Positive,” Rafe insisted. “Have a good night, Shoupe.”
The sheriff stood on the porch for another second before he left with a small headshake, leaving Rafe with his thoughts as he shut the door. The thief must have been a pro. Bypassing the security system and taking just enough to delay the sheriff’s department from investigating? That wasn’t an easy feat. To say that Rafe was intrigued was an understatement. The way she moved with such stealth and precision proved how she knew her way around sneaking in and out. There was no way this was her first hit. He wondered what motivated her to rob the house, if she was just a plain poor Pogue, or a Kook, doing it for the thrill of it.
Rafe had to find out more about the thief. Even two drinks in, he still had to think about her. And when he set his mind on something - or someone - there was no getting past it. He knew it was going to haunt him until he figured it out. Figure her out. Problem was, how the fuck would he? Right, Kildare wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t like he could just waltz around looking for her either. And chances are she was just some tourist, looking for some fun. Before he could start forming a plan to find out who she wa, his phone buzzed, distracting him.
Top: scarlet’s throwing a party tonite. u in?
Rafe thumbed at his screen, having half a mind to decline the invitation, but when he looked up, taking in the empty room, he almost got depressed. Why was he sitting on the fucking floor, thinking about some random girl he was probably never going to see again? Downing the last of his drink, he texted Top that he’d see him at Scarlet’s.
By the time Rafe arrived, the party was already in full swing. Weaving through the crowd, he greeted the familiar faces, gravitating towards the living room where he knew Scarlet’s father kept the expensive stuff.
“Hey Rafe!”
Lifting his head, he saw Topper on the couch with some girl, waving him over. Rafe took his time walking over, because what was he, a dog?
“’sup Top,” he greeted his friend with a light slap to the shoulder. “Give me your drink.”
“Alright, damn bro,” Topper said, handing Rafe his drink, before gesturing over to you, introducing you to him. Rafe gave you a nod as you smiled shyly at him, not bothering to exchange pleasantries. The last thing he needed right now was you simpering over him, no matter how pretty you were.
“Right, so where were we…” Topper said, apparently picking up the previous conversation you were having before Rafe joined them. “Are you leaving for university anytime soon?”
“Uh… No. I could go, but I don’t want to leave my mom all by herself, you know,” you answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. You looked like you’d rather be anywhere else but at this party. Rafe gave you a quick once over as he sipped on Topper’s drink. You were pretty, he figured. Maybe a bit mousy for his taste, with the shirt under your dress and a denim jacket on top? Other girls your age would have worn only the dress and maybe even cut a slit in it, just for the sake of it. Rafe’s brows furrowed as he looked at you more closely, pausing.
“… I know you?”
Topper gave him a very unsubtle look as he chuckled awkwardly, trying to play his friend’s rudeness off, while you just sat there, your back ramrod straight, smiling at him bashfully.
“She used to go to school with us? Then uh… Transferred during her senior year.”
Squinting his eyes at you, Rafe tried to think back to his school years, before realizing.
“Right, your dad embezzled like millions of dollars from his company right?”
Topper cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling and you only smiled tightly at Rafe, the corners of your mouth not quite reaching your eyes.
“Um.. I think I’ll grab a drink, Topper,” you said, excusing yourself, quickly disappearing between the people. Topper waited until you disappeared to elbow Rafe into the side, who only smirked into his drink.
“What’s her deal?”
“Are you joking?” Topper asked with a sigh, pinching his nose. “You can’t just say shit like that man, it’s obvious she’s embarrassed. Why would you bring up her father?”
“Get off your high horse, it’s not like I embezzled a bunch of money,” Rafe huffed, shoving Topper off of him with an eyeroll. He knew that Topper was frustrated with him, but honestly, why would he care if he hurt your feelings. Topper inhaled deeply and Rafe just knew that an lecture was incoming.
“She’s a good kid. Lives just on the outskirts of the Cut now with her mom. I guess they can still afford to live on Figure 8, but her and her mother are too embarrassed to come back after all of their money was seized and her father got locked up in jail. Which is probably why we never see her around. Now, we’re definitely going to see her less because you’re such a dick.”
Rafe was only half-listening to Topper, processing what he had just been told, the gears in his head turning.
“Wait, what?” he asked, sitting up straight and looked at Topper, finally taking the conversation seriously. “How would they still be able to afford living on Figure 8 when all of their assets were seized?”
Topper shrugged his shoulders. “How the hell should I know? I’m just telling you what she told me.” He glanced to the back and paused, before looking back to Rafe. “She’s coming back. Just… Think before you speak.”
If this was any situation, Rafe would’ve probably bit Topper’s head off for being told what to do, but for once, Rafe decided to lean back and listen. A short while later, you slipped past a kissing couple, joining them on the couch, holding onto a red solo cup with both hands.
“What kind of toxic waste did Scarlet mix you?” Rafe asked as some sort of peace offering.
“Oh this?” you lifted your cup, laughing awkwardly. “It’s juice. Don’t really like alcohol.”
Rafe almost choked on his whiskey, and he let out a cough, trying to hide his surprise while Topper only leaned his head back with an exasperated look on his face, you only stared at him with an open mouth.
“Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”
After that, Rafe didn’t ask you that much, letting Topper lead the conversation and instead just soaking up information about you. In the brief interaction he had with you, Rafe somehow got the feeling that you didn’t like him that much. He didn’t even know why.
Okay, he knew why. But honestly, he was just asking what everyone would ask, right?
When Rafe got home from Scarlet’s, he didn’t know that much more from you. After he really started paying attention to you, he realized that you never really divulged that much information about yourself, despite answering all of the questions. You were much smarter than Rafe had previously assumed. He wondered how many people you had fooled. But all of this was still a theory, and he had to put that to a test.
The next day, Rafe spent his morning asking the neighborhood about your family, disguising it as friendly neighborhood chatter and it was really far too easy. If there was one thing one needed to know about the people living on Figure 8 is, that they loved to yap.
“- just dreadful. That poor girl. Her mother took her out of the academy in her senior year and now they live next to Franklin Stewart on the other side of the island…” Susannah shook her head as she feigned distress, but Rafe didn’t believe an ounce of the compassion she was showing. She used to be best tea buddies with Rose, that really said it all.
“Oh man… I really hope her family is doing alright,” Rafe said stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Anyways… Thanks for the chat, Mrs. Cooper. I’ve kept you long enough.”
She only waved him off with an obnoxious laugh, “Please, don’t you worry about it. Give Rose my best wishes, okay?”
Rafe gave her a smile, which immediately dropped as soon as he turned to leave. “What a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, walking back to his house. At least it paid off having to talk to Susannah, since he now knew where you lived. He didn’t ponder over it long before he got on his bike, riding over to the Cut. As the mansions and well groomed front yards slowly turned smaller, one might say modest, he couldn’t imagine downgrading from Figure 8 to the cut. Though, now that he thought about it, he figured his family was pretty close from having to give up their life on the north side of the island. Rafe let his bike roll to a stop when he reached Franking Stewart’s house, laying his eyes on the only neighboring house.
It was pretty okay for a house on the Cut. Still on the cut, though.
He took off his helmet, placing it on his bike and getting off, walking in front of his house, contemplating his next move, when the door suddenly opened and a person exited. For a split second, he thought it was you, but upon closer inspection, he realized that it was your mother. She tugged a sun hat on, before pausing when she saw Rafe on the street.
“Can I help you?”
Rafe rubbed the back of his neck.
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you… I’m Rafe, a friend of your daughters…” He said, approaching the house to avoid yelling all over the street.
Your mother beamed at him. “Really? I barely get to meet any of my daughter’s friends. She’s not home right now, but would you like to come in for a glass of lemonade?”
Rafe hesitated. On the one hand, it would be a perfect opportunity to find out more about your situation, and if you really were the thief like he suspected. On the other hand, if you happened to come home while he was still there, you’d immediately know that there was something going on. Then again, high risk, high reward?
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Rafe followed your mother into your quaint home, and while your mother was blabbering away, he took the time looking around the kitchen.
“- she’s a good girl, bless her. A bit too serious, though. I always try to encourage her to live a little, you know?” your mother handed Rafe a glass of ice cold lemonade, which he gladly accepted. He was a sucker for a good old homemade lemonade.
“She is a bit shy,” Rafe agreed with your mother, only making her laugh.
“And very headstrong. Which is why it’s so hard for me to get her to change her mind on anything. I’m just so upset that she took the whole thing with her father so hard… The burden of that really shouldn’t fall on her shoulders. Ever since we moved out here, she got more withdrawn, angry. I know she’s still upset, but I really feel like she’d be happier if she got out of her shell again.”
Hm. Maybe you were stealing to help your mother pay the bills, help your family stay afloat.
“Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that.”
Your mother laid her eyes on Rafe, smiling sadly.
“I was very sad to hear about your father’s passing. I didn’t know him very well, but I’m sure he was a good man.”
Rafe almost scoffed, because only if she knew, but the noise died in his throat when your mother gave him a shoulder squeeze, rubbing his back.
“I hope you’re alright, honey. It’s hard to lose a parent at such a young age.”
His hand tightened around his lemonade glass, the coldness somewhat settling him down. He hasn’t felt the touch of a caring parent for a long time. “Thank you,” he pressed out, giving your mother a stiff smile. “Um… I should go. Don’t want to cause any more of an inconvenience,” he said, standing up.
“Oh please, don’t worry about it, I always love to meet my daughter’s friends.”
Your mother led him out of the house, and when Rafe passed the staircase that lead upstairs, his eyes caught a very familiar floral shirt tossed carelessly on the bottom of the stairs. Your mother followed his eyesight, palming her forehead, embarrassed.
“Oh god, please forgive the mess. I always try to tell her to keep her things in order,” she quickly said, picking up the shirt and hanging it over her arm. Rafe however only waved her off, giving her a charming smile.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a shirt.”
After bidding good bye to your mother, Rafe drove to the nearest beach, shutting his bike off to take moment to process. The shirt confirmed his suspicion, you were the thief he saw breaking into Jenkins’ house. He still didn’t know what your motives for stealing were. It was clear to him that your mother was very open about what your father had done, and you still seemed to be doing fairly well, all things considered. Where you paying the bills with the shit you stole from other people’s houses? Rafe stared at to sea for a second, before he got an idea, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
rafe: anything going down tonight?
top: uh
top: i think there’s a party at the boneyard.
top: pogue party, tho
rafe: thats fine.
rafe: you think you can get your friend to come?
top: … why? so you can embarrass her some more?
rafe: just want a second chance, maybe apologize
top: i’ll see what i can do. no promises, tho
“So, why did you really want her to come?”
Rafe was aware that Topper didn’t even have to say your name for him to realize who he was talking about. Rafe took a sip from his drink, wincing a bit. While he did say that he didn’t care about the fact this was a pogue party, they did always buy the cheapest shit. He could feel Topper’s gaze on him, scrutinizing and a little suspicious.
“I didn’t really make a good first impression. Just thought it’d be nice to make amends,” he finally said, his eyes set on the crowd around the bonfire, studiously not looking at his friend.
“Amends, huh?” Topper replied, sounding not at all convinced. “You’ve never been the type to care about stuff like that, Rafe.”
Rafe shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “People change, Top.”
“Or they have ulterior motives,” Topper shot back almost immediately, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin at the accusation.
He finally looked up to meet Topper’s gaze, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Can’t a guy try to be better without being accused of having a hidden agenda?”
Topper held his gaze for a moment longer before breaking into a grin himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just...don't mess with her, okay? She's been through enough."
Rafe raised his hands in surrender, his grin still in place. "Promise, Top. No messing around."
He did intend to make amends, but not for the reasons Topper thought. There were still so many questions Rafe needed answers to, and he was willing to play nice to get to them.
Topper only rolled his eyes at him, looking to the side for a bit. “Head’s up,” he muttered, before straightening his back, greeting you when you joined them.
“Hey guys,” you said, waving at them sheepishly.
Topper gave you a brief hug. “Hey, I was hoping you could make it. You remember, Rafe, right?”
“Yeah of course,” you replied, your voice light, but Rafe couldn’t help but think that your gaze somewhat hardened when you laid your eyes on him. He hoped that he was still able to salvage the relationship.
“Hey. Nice to see you again,” Rafe told you, giving you a charming grin. “You got anything to drink yet?” He looked pointedly at Topper, who stared back at him, his expression unmoving. Rafe inclined his head, raising his brow and Topper bit back a sigh, standing up.
“Let me get you something to drink. No alcohol, right?”
“Uh no, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “I’m not really thirsty anyways.”
Topper waved her off, lifting his own cup. “It’s fine. I need a refill anyway.” With that, Topper turned to leave, leaving you with Rafe.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable the other night,” Rafe started and you looked at him in surprise, your eyes widened. “I might have been a bit insensitive, maybe a bit too forward. I’m really sorry.”
It felt like swallowing gravel, the over the top apology, but he hoped that it came across as sincere.
You let out a breath, your forehead pinched, like you were holding something back. He saw a flicker of something in your eyes, and he realized you didn’t buy a single thing he just said.
“It’s fine,” you then said, smiling at him and Rafe raised an eyebrow, seeing past your facade, though he had to admit that you were a good actor. If he couldn’t get close to you by being nice, it seemed like he had to resort to his back up plan
“We good, then?” he said, offering you his hand, which you shook, after hesitating for a brief second.
“Sure.”
You leaned back against the boulder Rafe was sitting on, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the two of you. Rafe considered throwing himself into the black water, when you finally spoke up.
“My mom told me you came by this morning.”
“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and your mother saw me outside your house,” Rafe explained, glancing over at you. “Hope you didn’t mind that I called myself a friend.”
“It’s okay..” You trailed off, like you were about to add something else, but hesitating. Usually, he’d be fed up with people not speaking when they want to, but he was intrigued and figured he’d give you the time you needed to spit it out.
“What did you and my mom talk about?” you asked lightly, but Rafe knew how loaded the question actually was. He waited for a beat, sipping on his drink before he answered, enjoying playing with you.
“Not much, really. Just said how happy she was to meet one of your friends… She’s really nice,” he added and you gave him a wry smile.
“Thanks.”
Rafe paused for a beat.
“You guys are doing okay, right? Financially, I mean?”
You narrowed your eyes at him and he was praying to god he was pressing the right buttons.
“Yes. Why?”
“Was just wondering,” Rafe answered nonchalantly, shrugging with his shoulders. “I remember when Ward’s company hit a rough patch and we almost lost our house. But now, we’re better than I ever, and really appreciate my home and everything in it. I can’t even imagine how it feels like to lose everything just like that.”
He turned to look at you, catching how you were clenching your jaw and like the perfect friend he was, Topper returned with two cups in his hand.
“Hey, so they didn’t have juice, but I go-”
“I’m so sorry, Topper,” you said, interrupting him with a small smile. “I have to go. I forgot that I promised my mom I would help her with something early in the morning. But I really appreciate you inviting me out.”
“I- What?” Topper asked, confused but you only gave him a quick wave, almost ignoring Rafe entirely, before you left. Rafe would almost feel bad for pushing you, if he didn’t exactly know where you were going. Topper on the other hand, turned to his friend, glaring at him.
“Bro, what the fuck?”
Rafe drank the last of his drink, clapping Topper on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain soon. I gotta go, text you later, okay?”
He didn’t wait for a reply, tossing his empty cup into a trash bag and walking up the dune to get to his bike. Rafe took the straight way home, but decided to turn the engine off a few blocks before he got home, walking the rest of the way. The estate stood in darkness, not a single sound coming from it as he approached it, deciding to heave himself inside through a window, before deciding to wait.
It didn’t take long until he heard tinkering on the backdoor from the kitchen, then the unmistakable sound of the door clicking open. The door shut almost silently, and then quiet steps echoed over the marble floor. The moonlight shone through the window and that was the only reason Rafe saw you when you walked through the arched doorway of the living room. You froze mid step as you took in the complete lack of- well, anything.
When Rafe turned on the light, you barely reacted.
“How long have you known?” you asked with a sigh, pulling down the bandana, uncovering your face.
“Not long,” Rafe answered, as he leaned in the door way, his arms crossed. “You’re good at what you do, I’ll give you that. I was just paying attention.”
A range of emotions played on your feature - surprise, irritation, realization and then resignation.
“You saw me while I was in Mr. Jenkins’ house, didn’t you? You’re the one who was following me.”
Rafe merely raised an eyebrow and you groaned, pinching your nose.
“And you saw the shirt at my house. Damn it.”
Rafe smirked at your reaction. “So. Why are you doing this?”
Your eyes met his and Rafe actually saw a spark of defiance in them and for the first time, he actually believed you weren’t putting up an act. This was the real you.
“What’s it to you? It’s not like you’re planning on turning me in. Shoupe hates you more than he could ever hate me.”
“Well,” Rafe started, pushing off the door frame and walking over to you, “Let’s just say I’m curious. Clearly you’re a pro, but the question why is really bothering me. You need to pay the bills? Are you doing this for money?”
“What?” You asked, exasperated. “No, I told you, we’re doing fine financially.”
“Yeah ‘cause you’re such an honest person to come by.”
You gave him a look and only scoffed, turning on your heel to leave, but Rafe was quick to grab you by the wrist, holding you back.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Fine,” Rafe snapped, releasing your wrist, his eyes burning into yours. “But you’re not just getting off this easily. You tried to fucking rob me, you at least owe me an explanation.”
“I wasn’t going actually fucking rob you!” You bit at him, glaring at him with a challenging look in your eyes. Then, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, a weary expression taking over your face. “Okay! Okay. You want an explanation? Fine.”
Rafe was taken aback by your sudden cooperation, but he wasn’t going to let his surprise show. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue.
“I’m not doing this for money,” you started, your gaze fixed on a point somewhere over Rafe’s shoulder. “I’m doing this because… Because it’s the only way I can get back at the people who ruined my family.
You finally looked at him, your eyes hard. "The people we used to call friends, the people who claimed to care about us, they were the first ones to turn their backs on us when my father was arrested. They didn't waste a second before they started spreading rumors, tarnishing our family name even further."
Rafe was silent for a moment, processing your words. "So you're... what? Stealing from them as some sort of revenge?"
You shrugged, looking away.
“What about the stolen items? If you’re just keeping them, you’re not really that different from your father, are you?”
“What did you just say to me?”
Your nostrils flared and you glared at him, your eyes burning. Interesting. You stole from people who spread gossip about your family, but at the same time, you resented your father, and his actions, Rafe assumed.
“I sell that shit. I’m not getting caught with stolen items,” you then explained, rolling your eyes at him. “And then I give the money away.”
“Hold up, what?” Rafe paused you, frowning. “What you mean you’re “giving the money away”?”
“I don’t have time to tutor you in English.”
“Shit, you really were putting up a shy girl act, weren’t you?” Rafe huffed in disbelief, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes at him and he was speechless for a moment, not having expected your motive. Personally, he would never steal money just to give it away. Why go through all that trouble to gain nothing from it? He had to begrudge you though, you really had a pair of balls on you.
“I’m giving it to people who need it, people who live on the cut,” you elaborated with a sigh.
“You’re actually insane,” Rafe pointed out. He then froze, thinking. “So what were you planning on doing with the stuff you stole from me?”
“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “You were pissing me off and I just wanted to see how far I could get.”
Rafe rubbed his jaw, at loss for words. “You really are something, you know that?”
Your lips twitched in a small smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Figured you would.”
Rafe glanced over at you, taking in your figure, clad in dark clothes, red bandana still in hand. “So what now?”
You seemed to wonder the same, your gaze falling to the floor. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I never thought I’d get caught, let alone by someone like you.”
Rafe tried to not get offended by that.
“Maybe I should get out of the game while I still can get away unscathed.”
“Sounds like a smart idea,” he said and you looked at him, biting your lip.
“Guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”
Shrugging with his shoulders, Rafe made no move to stop you and nodded slowly, playing with the bandana in your hand.
“Cool… This was great,” you said, walking backwards. “Let’s not do it again.”
Rafe snorted and you turned around to leave, not before pausing, looking back at him.
“You’re not as bad as I thought you were, Rafe.”
With a grin, you disappeared into the hallway, no doubt leaving just the way you entered the house, leaving Rafe in the empty living room. That was the last time he saw you for a long time. Topper bombed him with questions, wanting to know what happened, but Rafe waved him off, not wanting to spill secrets that weren’t his to tell, but assured him that the two of your resolved your problems. For a while, Rafe though that you had gone against your words and just kept robbing people, but he hadn’t heard any chatter about any unsolved cases. For a while, Rafe thought that you had moved to the main land, but he happened to bump into your mother on a random afternoon, where she promptly thanked him for being such a good influence on you - which left him really bewildered. Because him? A good influence? He really didn’t want to know what that even meant.
When three months passed without a single sight of you, Rafe started to believe that you were avoiding him. Sure, you lived on the other side of the island, but again; Kildare wasn’t that big. He was bound to see you around at least once a month. Rafe wasn’t even exactly sure why it bothered him so much that he hadn’t seen you. Like, okay, he was curious about your story and the motives behind your burglaries at first, but he figured it all out, right? Rafe shouldn’t be wanting to see you anymore. Maybe he should ask Topper about you. But then again, the last time he did, it ended with you walking off.
“What, run out of girls to torment?”
Rafe lifted his head, surprised to see you grinning at him. He blurted out your name in shock like an idiot. He was so deep in thoughts, he hadn’t even notice you approaching him as he was sitting outside on the patio at Kelce’s party.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s a party, what does one do at a party?” you answered, plopping down on the couch next to him, throwing your legs in his lap like you’ve done it 100 times before. You looked different, too, your outfit wildly contrasting to the nice girl from next door outfit you were wearing at Scarlet’s party. Rafe tried to hide his perplexity by plucking the cup out of your hand, taking a big swig, expecting juice or maybe a coke and nearly choked when he realized it was vodka cran (more vodka than cran).
“The hell?” Rafe coughed, giving you a side eye. “I thought you didn’t drink alcohol?”
“Whatever made you think that?”
You reclaimed your cup, drinking from it like it was water, giving him a coy smile. Rafe ducked his head, smirking. So this is what your mother meant by good influence? You seemed less angry, more comfortable in your skin, like you had unburdened yourself from protecting your family’s reputation.
“Well, you definitely should get your liver checked out if you’re making this a regular occurrence.”
“Yeah, pot, kettle,” you shot back, holding your cup out of his reach when he lunged for it again. If Topper happened to walk out to the patio to see Rafe and you bickering again, he didn’t mention it.
And just like that, you fit yourself into his life like you had always been part of it.
There was rarely a morning when you weren’t in the kitchen when Rafe came downstairs in the morning, never questioning how you got in, building stacks and stacks of pancakes with ingredients from his pantry. You even helped him pick out the new furniture for the house, as the rooms of the Cameron estate slowly filled with interior.
The biggest work in progress was the living room, and Rafe scrolled on his laptop looking for a couch that was big enough and fit in with the rest of the decor of the house. You were sitting on the outdoor sofa next to him, your legs thrown over the arm rest like a damn pogue.
“What about this?” Rafe said, flipping his laptop around to show you the white couch with gold lining. It looked classy and he thought it fit right in with the new wall colors.
You glanced at it, shrugging, before doing a double take, frowning.
“That’s tacky as hell.”
“You know, I think I liked you better when you were acting like you were shy,” Rafe sniffed with a dirty look in your direction, keeping on scrolling. You only snickered, picking up another piece of pineapple on the fork, eating it.
“I don’t think you do.”
Rafe ignored you, frowning at his computer screen as he continued his search. It was harder than expected, and at this point he wondered if it would be easier to hire an interior designer.
“Hey Rafe.”
“What?”
Rafe kept his eyes on the screen, not moving an inch, when you suddenly leaned over, leaning your hands on his thighs and pressing your lips against his in a soft, but very decisive kiss. He let out a soft grunt, not having expected the kiss, before he kissed you back, momentarily forgetting his search for furniture. You licked into his mouth briefly, before pulling away, grinning at him as he furrowed his brows at you.
“Still like me better shy?”
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author's note: did you like it?🥹
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malum-forev · 11 months
Note
Congrats on 1k followers 💓 I am so happy for you!
And can I please request the “stranded” prompt from your bingo game?
Just imagine Bucky and reader not really liking each other and being stranded somewhere after a mission. The tension, the intrigue, the fluff! Ugh I’m excited ❤️‍🔥
Much love, Meg (espinosaurusrexex) ✨
Hiii thank you thank youuu!! ❤️‍🔥 Here's the "stranded" prompt! I hope you like it <33
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*
Your legs felt heavy as you walked deeper into the forest. The “simple” mission Sam sent you on had taken you from morning to afternoon and now, into the night. You found yourself trying to ignore the ache enveloping your body as you dragged your exhausted body through the damp ground. Whoever said nature gives you peace and makes you feel grounded is an idiot. 
Stupid Sam, with his stupid mission, and his “You’ll be in and out in an hour, two tops.” You thought. 
On paper, it looked easy. You were supposed to go to a warehouse that was used as a training camp during the war somewhere in Vermont. There had been a couple of reports stating weird things were happening, there was talk of more super serum and information taken by Hydra being hidden there. But someone must have been tipped off because when you got there, everything was gone. Well, almost everything. Before you got to the warehouse, whoever was getting rid of the evidence clearly wanted to get rid of you too. Blinding gas tanks were detonated and they’d wired bombs to the landing strip, the quinjet completely destroyed. 
You always had a Plan B, of course. A safehouse some miles into the forest that bordered the area near Montreal. 
Your shoulders dropped as you saw caught sight of the small cabin. The sigh you let out was the first thing you’d heard in an hour, apart from the sound of two pairs of boots crunching down on the dropping leaves.
Bucky turned to look at you but you kept your gaze forward. You were in absolutely no mood to talk. It was his fault you were here but you knew he would never admit it. 
You walked up the old wooden stairs and stopped at the door.
“Are you waiting for the door to magically open?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest.
Your hand covered your eyes. “You cannot be serious. Sam gave you the key for the safehouse in case we needed it.”
“Yeah, I know.” Bucky shrugged. “And I put it in my backpack.”
“And where’s your backpack?” You asked, annoyed. 
Bucky looked over both his shoulders and spun around once. “Does it fucking look like I have my backpack?”
“You lost the only thing you were supposed to keep track of?” You groaned. 
“Well I’m sorry, I was trying to not get killed by the fucking bombs!” Bucky rolled his eyes. 
You put your hand up, conveying a clear stop talking or I’ll kill you message, and knelt down. You took a couple of paper clips from the inside of your vest and straightened them to try and pick the lock. 
“Wouldn’t it be easier and more effective to carry a lockpick set?” Bucky asked. 
You stopped working on the lock to take a deep breath. We do not kill innocent people. You repeated in your head. Even if they’re not so innocent and they’re assholes.
You were able to get the door open after a few minutes. You took in your surroundings as you came in and turned on the lights. There was a landline phone at one end of the small cabin and a couple of medical aid kits, a couch on the other side of the four walls and a small table with two chairs next to it, but that was about it. You looked out the window and into the night, there wasn’t anything to be seen. Miles upon miles of trees, a good hour and a half away from any sort of civilization. You were truly stranded. 
“This place looks like shit.” Bucky said. 
Five words, that’s all it took to ignite the fire that had been lightly burning in your being. 
“Really? Because I think this place is incredibly charming.” You said, your words dripped sarcasm. “This was actually my idea of a perfect Friday night! Go on a mission, have you mess everything up by not checking if the place was decked out in bombs and having to walk almost two hours to a safehouse.”
“How is this my fault! You were the one who wanted to land the jet closer to the warehouse.” Bucky’s tone rose, his chest heaved. 
“Oh don’t you try and flip this situation around.” You warned. “Because the problem starts and ends with you being selfish! And because of your idiotic need for individualistic recognition and praise, we're stranded!”
Bucky was fully ready to let his wrath out on you but just as he was about to tell you why you were the problem, he saw a stain on your light grey vest. He furrowed his eyebrows at the large dark stain. 
“What happened to you?” He asked, getting closer and lightly tracing over the spot.
A painful shriek slipped out of you as you felt the pressure, Bucky stepped back. 
You grabbed one of the kits and dropped your body on one of the chairs. With a groan and a wince, you took your vest off and pulled your shirt up, tucking it under the wire of your bra. 
You teared the packaging for the antiseptic wipe and tried to clean the area. The large gash on the skin covering your ribs was still leaking blood. 
Bucky sat down on the chair next to you and pulled your chair closer to him, taking the wipe from your hands. “C’mon let me do it, I’ve got a better angle.”
You threw your head back and hissed as he pressed the wipe to your wound. 
“How’d you even get a cut like this?” Bucky asked, his usual frown softened a worried look taking its place.
You shrugged your shoulders. “What did you say earlier? I was trying to not get killed by the fucking bombs. Couldn’t really concentrate on anything else.”
The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned upwards slightly. 
You took sight of the man in front of you. The warm light cast intricate shadows on Bucky’s face. You could see his frown lines but you also took note of the small wrinkle on each side of his lips. Smile lines. You thought of the few times you’d seen him smile. You’d seen him give out his fake smile many times at press conferences or Stark events, but Buck’s true smile- the one you knew was hard to get out of him- you had only seen once or twice in passing. There was that one time when Sam finally broke him down with a cheesy joke, Bucky’s whole face would light up and an ear-to-ear smile would reveal his pearly whites. You had noticed your breath hitching when you saw him, not that you would ever admit it. 
A smile of your own threatened to appear as you saw how his tongue poked out of the side of his mouth, concentrated on treating your wound.
“Will you stop looking at me like that?” Bucky said in a soft voice. He took the needle out of the packaging, you needed at least three stitches. “It’s making me lose my focus.”
“Sorry.” You whispered.
“S’okay.” Bucky mumbled. 
You felt your mouth open without consulting with your brain. The question on the tip of your tongue. “Tell me a joke.” 
You don’t know what came over you but you asked it. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the lack of blood. You saw Bucky’s eyebrows furrow and his jaw tense. His expressive face went through all the emotions.
“A joke?” Maybe he hadn’t heard correctly, you definitely didn’t say that. How could the woman with whom he’d spent more time arguing than actually talking ask him to tell her a joke. 
“Tell me a joke.” You repeated, it was too late to back out now. 
“What’s a prize old people can win for aging?” Bucky asked, his eyes focused on finishing up your stitches but his brain was elsewhere. 
“What?” 
“Atrophy.” His celeste eyes looked up at yours and there it was, a smile. You knew you probably looked dumbfounded but there wasn’t any other expression you could make. Now you knew why Bucky didn’t smile as much, that man could start a war if he wanted to just by flashing a quick smile. 
You let out a light laugh. “That was a really bad joke.”
“I’m out of practice, I can’t remember the last time someone asked me for a joke.” Bucky bit his bottom lip. 
“You should smile more often.” Bucky’s eyes widened at your words. 
“I-I should?” He stuttered, quickly finishing the last stitch. Taking a bandage strip and placing it over his work. 
“You have a really nice smile.” You said and watched as his cheeks turned red. 
With a cough, he stood up from the chair. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Thanks, it’s- been a long time since someone’s said that.”
“Am I the first person to tell you you have a nice smile in 70 years?” You asked. 
“Well- I – when you think about it-“ Bucky’s brain was frying, he had no idea what to do in this situation. He’d begged Sam not to put you two together in a mission for this exact reason. You were extremely irritating to him but at the same time he couldn’t help but want you. Want to be near you. You had the ability to make him angry in a matter of seconds but make his pants feel tight with just a couple of words. The devious smile playing on your lips only made him harder. 
“I’m gonna call Sam to see when he can pick us up.” Bucky gulped. 
Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33
*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.
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twst-drabbles · 5 days
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Floyd 11
Summary: You were smoking by the window when Floyd decided now would be an amazing time to dive into the pool you had installed. In his full form. And now he won’t stop looking at you for attention. Haa, you know what, you were in need of a distraction anyway.
(Hehehe the subject is rather heavy, but Floyd is as Floyd does, saying things seemingly vague but not really. Cheeky eel.)
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You’ve been working on getting rid of the habit, you swear. Sure sure, you don’t exactly look convincing when you’re leaning on the window sill, packet of cigarettes at hand as though they never left your side and taking gentle drags like you’re trying to savor it, but this was your first cig in a while. You had this same pack for about a few months.
It’s slow going, but you’re going. Soon you’ll stop. Soon you’ll be at the point where you’ll just forget the urge to reach for your lighter. But not today. There’s too much energy in your spine and your head has been itching. Waiting. Like it’s anticipating something even though there’s nothing.
Haa… you don’t understand this. You don’t know how to fix this.
You took a slow drag and breathed out. Something within you quieted a bit and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. Wind drifted over your face. It was nice. Relaxing.
Then you heard a splash. You and your cigarette were drenched in water.
“Hey!”
You opened your eyes to see a large Floyd lounging on his slick tail, lazily waving at you like he didn’t have the energy to do anything more, despite his big, toothy grin.
You snorted out water then sighed at the sight of your useless cigarette. You dropped it in the ash tray.
You thought you were alone, since everyone is usually doing their own thing outside or in their pocket homes, but you guess you can’t always rely on the convince of routine to keep you safe. Floyd saw you, clearly, and intentionally made a splash at you.
Floyd, when he first saw you, wanted in on this bad habit of yours. But, when you said no, he basically made it his job to stop you when he sees you. It’s easy to see it as him being childish. ‘If I can’t have it, you can’t either,’ type of thing, but that’s not quite it, now is it?
You want to get rid of this bad habit, so Floyd will be the menace to get you to slow down and stop. Weird, weird eel.
Well, not like you can ask for anything else. This too was something you appreciated, as annoying as he can be.
So, when you finally noticed that Floyd’s eyes have never once left you, you figured it would best to join him, if only to keep yourself from scratching that addicting itch.
“So,” Floyd slithered right next to your knees as soon as you sat down, “what’s bothering ya? You haven’t been that careless in a while, so what’s got you smoking right where I can see you?”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you splashed your hands, attempting to scrub out a spot in your palm, only to find that that’s just another scar that won’t fade, “It just feels like something’s nagging at me. Kinda wound up. Tight. Can’t tell you why that is, though.”
“So that’s what made you smoke?” Floyd dragged his upper body out, not caring for the water that surged and soaked your clothes, “’Cause you can’t think of anything else that’ll make you feel better?” He picked at a loose thread laying on your thigh, pulled, then snapped it off. Another place for your clothes to fray open.
Lot of them have been falling apart, actually. Huh. You never noticed how worn out your clothes have been. Guess they’re just too old to handle any more stress.
“Don’t do that,” you said, though you did nothing to stop his claws from tugging the loose end of your shorts, “Well, I guess. It just easier to de-stress with a pack around and a lighter in your pocket. Not like I know anything that’ll help me.”
You had hobbies but those become hard to keep up with when you spent all that time just looking for your lost ones. And trying to get back into them, you know you’ll be frustrated at the decay in skills. So you’d rather not bother.
“Hmm,” Floyd lowered his head and plopped it right on your lap. He started to playfully tap your knuckles with his claws. “What about me?”
His tail exited the water and curled around you.
“What about you?” you grabbed his hand and gently pushed against the webbing between his fingers. He really had the gall to pretend to think about it, like there were no other choices for him to pick from.
“You can use me,” Floyd’s smile was small, cheeky as he basically trapped you in his tail, “in any way you like. That’ll help get the stress out, right?”
You can take a guess as to what he’s talking about.
You chuckled as you leaned back.
“Alright, then I’ll use you to rest my back,” you smiled at the frown that spread on Floyd’s face, “Resting is also de-stressing.”
“…you’re no fun.” Floyd grumbled but didn’t fight it.
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alice-angel12x · 1 year
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Death is always around the Corner
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Idia + Death!Reader+ Ö̵̗̭͙̠͍̙̬̦̬̺͙̻̻̰̮́͌̈́͑̅̉̉͆̄̓̉̒͝͝ͅř̵̡̨̡̞̦̩̰͖͚͕͙́̑̎̆̏̐͂̀́͒̿͆̆̆̀̿̐̀͂͊̀͑́̅̈́̚t̴̛̛͖͚͑̽͑̓͋̒̈̈́̀̔́̌͒̆͘͝͠ẖ̵͚̦̫̫̻͔̤͚̺̬̗̥͇̾̈͐̎̿̊̋̄̉͑̅͑̊̊̍́̿̚ͅơ̵̛̹̯̤̟̔̍̋͗͗̾͆̒̏̋̉͐͛̿͆̇̈͆̈́̈́̔͝͠
Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Iida, Malleus
Masterlist
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Let's set the scene:
So it was finally that time again, I will not let you get in the way of my work Shroud. The shroud company, through blessing or curse from Hades. Made it very difficult to find the Isle of woe to be by mortals, or Death itself. Memories from times of old began to resurface.
" Look at this cute little pie. We would like to thank you all for the gifts on behalf of our son," Zeus smiled. " Oh, so precious. How absolutely heart-warming. I haven’t felt this choked up since I got some moussaka stuck in my throat," Hades said, trying to make a joke. "Don’t look so glum, chum. Come and join the celebrations!" Zeus invited. " I’d love to, but unfortunately, I can’t leave my post thanks to the work you graciously “bestowed” upon me. Love to stay, but sadly can’t!" Hades said as he backed away. "Come now, you’ll work yourself to death!NGet it? To death! I could kill myself laughing!" Zeus laughed as the rest of the party joined him. " Ugh, if only…!" Hades scoffed to himself.
As Hades returned to the underworld, his two minions Pain and Panic came running with news.
"BOSS! BOSS!" Panic cried out.
"What! What is it!? I am Not in the mood," Hades scowled.
"T-T-The Boss! The Big Boss is back!" the two screamed.
"After all this time, this could be a great opportunity," Hades smirked.
The God quickly made his way to a simply room that belonged to the one and only, Death. The room was simple, it had one throne that was placed by the window. That over looked the river of Souls.
"Hey, Death! The Big Boss, Head honcho, Top dog! How've yeah been?" Hades greeted his long time boss and friend. "How was the travel, travel good brought souvenir?"
"Hmm, oh. Hello Hades," Death greeted, snapped out of their thoughts. "You needed something?"
"So I have plans for Mayhem, your favorite," Hades smirked as he went on to explain his plans.
But he noticed that something was different about his underworld friend. The bloodthirst chaos loving friend was not present, instead this sad and mellow person sat before him.
"Um Who are you and you know what happened to Death?" Hades asked.
"Just a new perspective I guess. As for your plan. If that's what you really want I won't stop you, though I'm afraid I will not join you," Death said calmly.
"Okay, no seriously what happened to you. What happened to the King/Queen of terror and dread?" Hades asked.
"I guess like you I'm also tired of ruling the dead and this place," Death sighed as they looked back at the underworld.
__________________
Death would be confided Hades. The only other high being that would associate with them. Even if they were never Hade's first choice.
But Death told Hades about the many changes to come. Like how they plan to eventually get rid of the underworld. Their symbol and trophy to rub into Life's face of their power over said, god.
Hades did not like this much. But he was confident he would take over Olympus before that would happen. But of course, things didn't go that way.
So as not to lose anything else, using the last of his power to hide the remaining piece of the underworld and a few mortal followers. Becoming the Isle of woe.
__________________
Y/n knew that this next series of events might be the only chance to find this isle of Woe. At least for a long time.
So in the middle of the night, Y/n woke Jamil and asked for his assistance.
Y/n informed Jamil what was about to go down in the morning. So they gave Jamil an enchanted necklace to hide him in plain sight. While they took on his form and be captured in his stead.
Jamil agreed to this since he doesn't like the thought of being dragged off to possibly be never seen again.
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~~SNAP! SNAP! CRACK! SNAP!!~~
" What are those!? They’re all flying in the sky with their– Wait, are those hoverboards!?"Kalim gasped.
"What in the world…!? Unless there are events, the school is supposed to be protected with a magical ward to keep intruders away," Vil said in a slightly nervous tone.
"No, the Barrior is breaking," 'Jamil' said.
"They’re heading this way. One, two… Incoming! Take cover, everyone!" Rook said to everyone.
"Jamil" quickly raised a shield to protect everyone from the debris and robots falling from a ceiling.
"Are you alright, Y/n?" Deuce asked as he helped "y/n" stand up.
"This is the Hepta Unit. We have visuals on Subjects D and E. Beginning Detainment Maneuvers," The bots said.
" I do not know who you are, but it is absolutely impolite to be barging in through windows! I will acknowledge this as an emergency! On my authority as the Pomefiore Prefect, you are all given permission to use magic against these intruders!" Vil said.
"Wait! Vil, I need you to think carefully," 'Jamil' said quickly. " We are outnumbered, and most of the students here are rookie wizards. You Rook, and maybe myself can last a while, but the first years."
Vil scowled as he realized Jamil's assessment was right, and they would risk a lot if they fight.
"Then what do you recommend we do?" Vil glared but gasped as he watched Jamil raise his arms and surrendered.
" What!?" Everyone gasped.
" They are only after us. If we don't resist no one will get hurt," Jamil said simply, Vil sighed in frustration as he slowly raised his hands.
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As the fiery robotic men loaded the overblot boys into the airship, "Jamil" gave one final look back to the school. Only to see the VDC group running in the distance, trying to reach them in time.
"Jamil" smiled warmly as the airship door began to close. My heart warmed that mortals were trying to save them-... No, save Jamil.
But It was a long Flight, and the most "Jamil" could do was let Riddle rest on their lap. When the boy woke up, he was a bit startled. But "Jamil" Was quick to comfort the boy.
But Azul quickly pointed out that "Jamil" was acting strange. So Y/n decided to let them in on the plan a bit.
So "Jamil " explained how the Isle of Woe is the only place in the world that is hidden from the eyes of Death. It is also the place where many blot monsters are stored.
The boys asked why death would care so much about Blot monsters. With "Jamil" would explain that when a person overblots, for a time they will be joined by a blot phantom.
But eventually, the phantom will consume the victim and store the person's soul deep within it. Leaving the soul in perpetual torment, till the Phantom is destroyed.
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"And you know this how?" Leona glared.
"Cause they told me. So in my plans to get into better standing and redemption. I am willingly being their eyes, and beckon for them to track down," Jamil smirked.
"So that's why you didn't want to fight, Y/n wanted this to happen," Vil sighed in annoyance.
"They also wanted no one to get hurt," Jamil snapped back.
"So how long must we wait for Y/n to rescue us?" Azul asked nervesly.
"Only Time will decide," Jamil said.
"Umm don't you mean 'Only time can tell' ?" Riddle asked.
"No," Jamil said simply.
"So these robots are from the Isle of Woe?" Vil asked.
"They’re S.T.Y.X’s special security unit, Charon. It’s their job to capture magicians who have Overblotted so they could be transported to the Island of Woe," Leona explained, then smirked. " But the fact that not even Y/n can find this place must be a blow to their ego. Score one for mortals."
"I think you mean score one for Hades," Jamil said as he went on to explain the story of Hades, Death, and the Underworld.
Apparently, the story was so Gripping and engaging, the 4-hour flight was over in a flash. They have arrived on the Isle of Woe, with Idia there to greet them. But as soon as Jamil stepped off the airship a wave of cries and howls filled their ears, the sounds that went unheard by everyone else.
"̶w̷҉̧h͘͟y͜͝͏ h͘a͏̵v͢e̸ ̡̀͝y̡o͏u̵͠ ̛̀f̷̨͢o͜r̴̕͜s̷̢a̧͝͏k̷͠en͏̷ ͟u̧̨s̕͡,̡ ͡d͢ea̢͠͡th͟
"̴̕P̸͞l̸͝e̷͡a͝s̵͘ȩ̷,̷͢ ͟w̸̡h̸͡ȩ͏r̵e̛ ̵͝a̶̡re̷͟͞ ̸̡y̸͜o̴u̷͝ ́͞D̵̛͠e͏̀a̴t̢́̀h̷͟?̴͘͠!̡͟"͢
"̡̀͘S͘om̛̀e̸͘o͘n̶̨͜e ͘͟Pl̵e̸̶a̧ś̷̶e ̕͟͜S͢҉a͞v̸e͞ ͏̷M̷͢͝é͢͝!̢͢!̨̕"҉
The voices cried out, it was so overwhelming Y/n almost dropped their disguise. But they composed themselves and held back their tears.
As Idia put the boys through many tests, he noticed something strange about Jamil's vitals. That he didn't have any vitals or basic signs of life. Before Idia could pull Jamil aside for questioning, he was locked in the meeting room with the rest of the NRC boys.
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Idia began to question Jamil, but he didn't really answer any of the questions. Till ortho pointed out that Jamil had no body heat. So seeing no need to hide, they dropped the illusion.
Revealing Death.
Idia began to panic as he quickly stood, but before calling for hade's level to shut down. His calling device suddenly shut down from low power, and the same with some of Ortho's functions.
Y/n sat down confidently as Idia trembled in his boots, and the others sat in awe and confusion. Vil was just frustrated that he was tricked so easily.
"Y-you can't be here! The Isle of Woe is supposed to be hidden from you?!" Idia panicked.
"You can only hide from death for so long," Y/n said simply as they rested their elbows on the table.
"W-why are you here?" Idia asked slowly.
"I'm here to collect all the souls in Tartarus," Y/n said simply.
"This isn't the underworld, there are no souls to collect," Idia glared.
"That is untrue. Phantoms hold the souls of their victims and those it slaughters. I am here to collect them," Y/n said.
"but that would mean you will destroy the phantoms. But we need them to study and find a way to stop blot," Idia reasoned.
"Those 10,000 and more souls have been suffering for thousands of years. I think it's time to give them an out," Y/n replied as they stood up.
"Demands here, demands there… This isn’t a zoo, damn it. Did you forget what I said earlier? Don’t make me repeat myself again… I!!! AM!!! THE!!! BOSS!!!" Idia shouted as stood in front of Y/n, blocking their path.
"HAHAHAHAHA!!" Y/n laughed, so much so that they had to lean against the table to support themselves. "You almost remind me of Hades. But no Your not my boss, and are you okay with keeping Ortho the first in Tartarus, to suffer till the end of time? You made a machine of him, so why not let the real one go?"
Idia froze as Y/n bore into his soul when suddenly the power went out as the room went dark.
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Things just did not get better, as Y/n learned that Rook and Epel had tracked them down. And the blot phantoms had felt the presence of their doom. So in one last desperate attempt, they manipulated the bot Ortho. To Get Idia down to them.
With this, the isle of woe went into Chaos. The NRC boys went to go collect the thunder staff, but thanks to Y/n there were little to no phantoms standing in their way.
Y/n, in a blink of an eye, was making quick work of the phantom. Ortho was not happy about the lack of challenge to the NRC boys.
But eventually, The boy manages to push the final phantom back to Tartarus. The phantom using Ortho's voice cried out to Idia.
Idia jumped to follow his "brother" to Tartarus, but Y/n in one clean motion slayed the phantom.
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As Idia's memories and regrets flashed in his mind, he slowly opened his eyes to find himself in the void. As he sat up, he heard a familiar voice in the distance, he turned to See Ortho. He was sitting on death's lap as the two were talking when Ortho noticed Idia. Death helped ortho to his feet as Ortho ran to Idia and hugged him tightly.
"Thank you for looking out for me. You’ve made me so happy. But, you can’t be here yet, Big Brother," Ortho said.
"Ortho… Why? I want to go with you. We made a promise, didn’t we? And You," Idia turned to Death. " Why did you save me, I just wanted to follow Ortho."
"Because Ortho and I believe it's not your time yet," Y/n answered.
"You still have comics to read, concerts to watch, and new games to play, don’t you…? You love this world too much to give up on it completely," Ortho added.
"What!? Who said I loved this rotten world!? All that nonsense can just disappear!" Idia said as he began to tremble.
"Not everything has to make sense. You shouldn’t have to give up on anything ever again. You have your future ahead of you, Big Brother.  You see, I want you to fulfill the dreams we talked about that day," Ortho smiled.
"Our Dream?" Idia asked.
"I’m sure it will take a long time. You might feel like giving up along the way, but… I know… I’m sure you can go anywhere, Brother. It may be long and tiring, but you’ll get there someday. It’s okay. I’ll be right there with you always. Please, don’t give up," Ortho said as he gave one last squeeze of a hug. He slowly let go of Idia and turned to Death. "Okay, I'm ready to go now."
"Wait, Ortho! Death Please Don't Take Him?!" Idia begged as he watched Ortho grab Y/n's hand.
"Actually I have something special for you, and I want Idia to be there. But he needs to wake up first," Y/n explained.
"Really, I can't wait. Hurry and wake up big brother," Ortho said.
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When Idia came to, standing over him was Y/n and some old man. Who was actually Vil? Idia shyly apologized to everyone and said he would probably never return to school.
But Grim and everyone else was not going to let him off easy, telling him to fix ramshackle at least. But the group was spooked to see the ghost of ortho next to Y/n.
"Well before you do anything else I will need you to come with me Idia," Y/n said as ortho grabbed their hand.
"H-huh W-why?" Idia asked.
"To accompany ortho and me when we go to see someone important. And I think Vil will need to come too," Y/n sighed.
"Why am I needed?" old man vil asked.
"To help with your situation," Y/n said. "And the rest of you are free to go back to the school, we will catch up."
"W-wait where are you going?" Epel asked.
"And where is this important person?" Riddle asked.
"In the void between dimensions and the worlds," Y/n answered simply.
"Who could you possibly be taking them to?" Azul asked.
"Life," Y/n smiled
______________________________________________
To be continued...
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itsabouttimex2 · 2 months
Note
Hi what are your thoughts on yandere older Brother MK ? Love to hear your thoughts , theories, hcs/fics please 💗
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Stormy Weather
Yandere Older Brother MK
(So I’m working on some blog improvement stuff- if anyone has a moment to do so, I’d appreciate if you took a moment to fill this questionnaire out! No pressure, of course- and I hope you enjoy the headcanons!)
History is often said to repeat, and those words have never been proven truer to MK when he sees you wandering up to the bright sign of Pigsy’s store. He wouldn’t usually be too concerned by a child’s fascination with such a bright and colorful light, but in the middle of a freezing rainstorm, wearing so little clothing? You’re absolutely filthy, covered in wet leaves and mud, a sorry sight made all the sorrier by your scraped legs and forearms.
MK races outside to meet you, only to stop dead in his tracks when you cower away at his hasty approach. He steps takes a step away and kneels down, leveling himself to your eyes. The delivery boy spends a few minutes coaxing you towards him with soft words, promising you safety and warmth if you come inside with him. Eventually, you accept the hand he offers to you, unsteadily allowing yourself to be lifted up and brought into the store.
MK freezes for a moment, struggling to sort through the list of what he needs to do for you, what tasks to prioritize. You’re gaunt to the point that your ribs push against skin, so you need food. You’re freezing and soaked from the rain, so you need a change of clothes. And you’re caked head to toe with what looks like half a forest floor, foliage and soil crusted all across your body.
A bath first, he manages to decide.
It wouldn’t do to have you sitting miserably in a puddle of filth as you ate, and changing your clothes is moot without cleaning you.
MK hauls you up to his apartment, trying his hardest not to jostle your frail body- and though he manages to avoid any outright collisions or trips, he stumbles quite a few times with the awkwardness of carrying you. But eventually, the shower is in sight and you’re sat gently on the tiles, left to trace your finger through the shallow grooves. Your newfound hero scrounges around for everything he needs, coming back to you with an armful of shower supplies. Without hesitation, he spills them unceremoniously onto the ground and starts the water.
Although you flinch away from the sudden and somewhat loud spray crashing down towards you, MK places a hand your back and rubs it to calm you down, testing the warmth of the water. Once the shower heats up, he gently nudges you forward.
You stare up in wide-eyed awe at the torrent of warmth, sitting neatly on the shower floor as the metal faucet drenches you. Biting back a chuckle, MK watches the gears spin in your head- you’re clearly having trouble making sense of the showerhead, of all the perforations through the shiny steel, of the lever that changes the spray settings. Have you never had a shower before?
Oh.
This must be your first one, MK thinks to himself, slowly reaching forward to peel away your filthy clothing. He has no clue how old you are, but you’re definitely at the age where you should know about showers and baths- or at least be used to them by now.
With a slight grimace, MK tosses your old clothes right into the trash. No point in trying to salvage them, not when the fabric is soiled through with grime and tattered to a net-like state. He’ll give you something from his own closet later to make up for it.
In spite of being hyperactive and somewhat flighty, the delivery boy does a surprisingly good job of washing you up. It takes nearly an hour to scrub away all traces of mud, and he spends nearly as much time afterwards brushing out your hair, plucking out enough twigs and leaves to build a garden.
By the end of it, you’re somewhat presentable, wrapped in an old Monkey King pajama set that MK never got around to getting rid of. The colors are worn and the fabric is abraded to softness, but the sleepwear is cozy and warming regardless. In particular, you fiddle with the stuffed tail sewn to the back of the pants, admiring the still-soft plushness between your hands.
You’ve quickly grown accustomed to the feel of MK’s hands, warm and quick, built with a touch of muscle. They’re the gentlest thing in the world right now, scooping you into a cradled form and carrying you back down to the cozy noodle joint. He almost sits you down on one of the cushioned stools, but something in his mind starts screaming to keep you close.
Cooking noodles with a child in one arm proves a little too hard, so MK shifts you around to his back and allows you to rest there, your arms wrapped carefully around his neck. You’re holding tightly enough that you do slightly impede the movement of his arms, but all the end up finely chopped and prepared anyways.
He leaves out several of the usual ingredients to make the dish more palatable, reducing the amount of veggies and spice the noodles would usually have. It’s nothing new to him, helping Pigsy make adjustments for custom-ordered meals. Instead of savory veggies, he makes you dumplings with cheese filling, hoping you’d find them easy to eat and keep down.
MK takes a seat before placing you on his lap, ready with a few napkins to wipe up any spills.
Between the two plates, you reach for the dumplings first, drawn by the enticing smell of freshly cooked savory bread and sweet cheese. He chuckles when you stuff the first one down your mouth, watching a little bit of cheese drip from between your closed lips as the dough bursts and coats your mouth with gooey cheddar. MK lifts the napkin to clean your face before pulling the noodle bowl towards you- and then laughs when you stuff a hand right in to grab a fistful.
Thankfully, MK had the foresight to drain the broth after cooking the noodles, allowing them to cool quicker. It also prevents you from spilling hot liquid across yourself, which he’s very glad for now that you’re wrist deep in noodle, eating right from your own clenched hand.
A warmth bubbles up deep inside his chest, blossoming out through his skin in ripples- the feeling of doing good for the sake of good. Just seeing you stuff down the noodles and dumplings is enough to bring a smile to MK’s face.
Enough to wash that addictive heat down his spine and through his veins.
Maybe he shouldn’t take to the police station just yet. And it might sound heinous; if you look at it from the angle of keeping a child from their parents, but- you were starving! You were freezing! You were running around in tattered clothes! You don’t know the first thing about stranger danger!
Whoever it was that was taking care of you was clearly not doing a great job!
So maybe, just maybe… it’s okay to keep you? MK certainly thinks so. He’s not too wrong with the points he raises, that you’re a victim of something, whatever it is. Neglect, starvation, abandonment, name it. You need to be saved, he quickly decides.
And what does a hero do best, if not save people?
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lovingonryles · 4 months
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right where you left me
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this fic is for @liseytopia and i’s lovely fic exchange. hope you like it, tysm for putting the extra time into making two i seriously don’t deserve you 😭🫶🏻 hope you like it <3
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
summary: you haven’t seen finnick since the games; at least the true finnick. ever since he got whisked away to the capitol, you haven’t seen his old self. but, one day, things change
warnings: angst angst angst, hurt/comfort, sad little finnick, cursing, friends to strangers to lovers
word count: 1,392, should take about ten and a half minutes to read (longest to date 🤭)
listen to: right where you left me - bonus track by taylor swift
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IN THEORY, IT wasn’t a long time since finnick’s games. only six years. in the long run, that means nothing. you could waste six years at any other point in your life easily. but not these six years.
you and finnick had a bond. close friends, you were. you looked out for each other, came to the other’s rescue. whether it was for a bad dream, bad day, bad family, or anything else, you’d always come running for each other.
you’d patch the other’s wounds, wipe away the other’s tears. whenever somebody needed a shoulder to lean on, the other was there.
you should’ve been there for finnick when he got reaped, but you weren’t. you already dodged a bullet by not getting picked, so you were just trying to rid yourself of anxiety after the female tribute was called. but, it all came back when you heard the familiar name roll off the capitol member’s tongue. “finnick odair.”
your heart stopped. nothing could've prepared you for that. your head immediately shot to where he was standing. his face dropped. he looked like a figure made of wax; unmoving, unalive.
it took a jab in his back by the peacekeepers to get him to move, but his eyes immediately found you when he did.
"no," you whispered. "no, no, no, no." tears welled in his eyes as he mouthed "sorry," and that was it. you were expecting the world to collapse or something, anything, but nothing happened. everyone just went home.
it might've been better if the world ended right then and there, you thought, because finnick was gone forever, and hell, he was starting to be your world. you didn't even watch him on tv. you avoided the situation as much as possible by sleeping.
you almost went to you two's favorite spot, a creek near his house, every once in a while, but you couldn't bring yourself to. too many memories.
that was until it was announced finnick won. news of the century, it was to you. you remember waiting on his porch with a bouquet of flowers you snagged from the meadow earlier. but he never showed up.
maybe the train was late. but that train was late for a day, then two, then a week, and at that point, you'd far given up. you had to admit you'd maybe never see finnick again.
when he did finally show up, it had been a month since his victory. you were out grabbing some food at the market when you saw his face; beautiful blonde hair, tousled as always, and green eyes that looked like emeralds in the daylight. you could recognize it anywhere.
"finnick!" you yelled, completely dropping what you were doing. his head turned to see you, a soft smile on his face.
you almost cried seeing him. you immediately engulfed him in a hug, but he didn't really wrap his arms around your back. he didn't enjoy the hug; he just tolerated it. you didn't seem to notice or care at the moment, though. "oh my god, finnick, where have you been?" you asked, excitement pouring through your eyes.
"needed to take a victory tour for the capitol. did you not watch on tv?" he asked, chuckling slightly. the question almost set you back. why would you? who actually watched anything after the games?
"no. didn't know there was one. glad to see you're okay, though. god, i haven't seen you in ages," you practically beamed. he didn't seem to care, though. what was wrong with him?
"happy you care," he smiled before turning back to what he was doing. any conversation you had after that seemed like you two were just meeting. like you were complete strangers.
that’s how it remained for a while. finnick and you rarely talked, only when you were next to each other. you still waved hello to his parents, and they still asked if you'd like to come to dinner, but you had to refuse. you couldn't face the man you once called your friend. most times he was doing things for the capitol anyway, so it's not like it was hard to avoid him. he wasn't even in 4 half the time!
and that's how it stayed, this near-constant torture, for six years of your life. you made other friends to cope and nearly forgot about the boy you used to hang out with at fourteen. his presence was just a distant memory to you. you almost despised him for leaving you as suddenly as he did.
you thought you'd never come to his aid again. until one random day.
it wasn't much different than any other. you got a house for yourself and you, so far, didn't have any complaints. finnick's house was relatively close to the heart of 4, so you often passed by it while running your errands.
the sight of his house brought unease to you. you couldn't even look at it without feeling sad. even if you didn't want to admit it, you really missed finnick and you'd rather cut out every aspect of him than think about him.
that was until you heard something. it sounded almost like a cry. the sound was so faint you could almost barely hear it. you walked a bit closer to your ex-friend's house, and sure enough, the sound got louder.
it couldn't be from the house; his walls weren't that thin. the only place you could think of was behind the house. you checked to make sure nobody was around before sneaking around to the back side of his house.
the sight before your eyes you surely weren't expecting. poor finnick, the boy you used to know so long ago, was hugging his knees into his chest, all but sobbing.
suddenly, your sadness and guilt hit you like a brick. you ignored everything between you two at the moment and gently knelt down next to him. you weren't sure if he heard you, so you tried your best not to startle him. "you okay?" you asked.
he jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to be at his aid. especially not you. his eyes suddenly filled with a kind of comfort. "i can't lie, no," he admitted. you got down to his level, sitting beside him against the house.
"what's up?" he sniffled, drying his eyes with his hand.
"just...life. i have to go back to the capitol soon and i don't know if i can do it." you wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
"you don't like it there?"
"no, not at all." he threw his head back, letting in a big gulp of fresh air. "they’ve done things to me. ever since the games, i've just been...i don't know, different."
you thought back to the month of his arrival. the sudden loss of all emotion from him. “ya, i can tell.”
“shit, i’m sorry,” he cupped his face in his hands again.
“wait, no, don’t apologize, hon.” you weren’t even sure why the nickname slipped out. It happened without you thinking. he looked up with his eyebrows furrowed. “it’s not your fault.”
“did you call me hon?”
“not important right now, what i’m trying to say is i forgive you. for everything. none of it was your fault. the games do things to people and i understand that, so don’t feel bad. i just want you to feel happy.”
he barely paid attention to your words. he just smiled, slowly realizing the best part of his life was back. finnick didn’t mean to leave you like he did, but he didn’t want to hurt himself; get too attached to you just to get ripped apart.
when you noticed his grin, you almost damn near melted. you hadn’t seen him like this since you were kids. you sighed, tears threatening to spill out your eyes. “you look so pretty,” you said, cupping his cheek with your hand.
“you do too.” without thinking, his eyes darted to your lips. you sniffled before leaning in and closing the gap between you two.
the kiss was possibly the best of your life. it was filled with remorse and passion and “i’m sorry”s, and “i love you”s.
once you pulled away, you rested your forehead with his. “don’t ever leave me again,” he mumbled, tone soft.
“i don’t know how i could.”
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