#there's puns in his words - and there's anger and confusion and worry in his words

[definitely-not-watson]

What I really love about Sherlock Holmes Chapter One is that this game does not hold your hand through nearly, if not, everything that you encounter. Cases, evidence, deciding which conclusion to go with, since each chapter allows you to make your own decision, hinging on consequences that you may have to bear with for the entirety of the game.

So not only do you truly have to feel like a fool sometimes when you don't have a direction (which would probably be the case for me if I were a detective, because I'm just that terrible) but you're also dealing with Mr. Drama King in the back of your head.

Yes I'm talking about Jon. I've (to the best of my ability) grabbed snippets from his journal of his personal thoughts about you when you so much as do something this little potato doesn't approve of.

Though let's be real, a few of the reactions he gives are mostly just him complaining about his impatience with you. I'm going to leave all this under the cut so that it's not some HUGE text that blocks everything on your dash:

First of all, I'm not that smart when it comes to finding certain articles, at least not in every case (I will say I think the main story paper digging feels a lot more generous than the DLC ones, my word I felt stupid sometimes). You take two seconds to flip to another police document or news article and Jon pretty much moans behind you like "Hurry up I feel like I'm aging" and it's like "I don't see you helping honey, PLEASE."

Yes I'm struggling in archives because I accidentally looked up the wrong thing. Now he's just being a little brat. He acts as though you dragged him to the grocery store like he was your youngest kid and makes him walk on the side of the cart always. And no he can't get a toy from the toy section and he's going to pout about it. The best thing is leaving the screen to retrace your steps or figure out what you missed and all you see is this 👎and it's like would you calm down, I'm doing my best!

He's also super sarcastic. Since Jon is a portion of Sherlock's own personality that seeps through, mostly the playful and self-loving sort of aspects, his humor is also as dry as his, which is probably why they're able to run each other into annoying circles without actually pissing each other off. You never win and you never lose when you argue with yourself do you?

I dunno which I prefer more: Jon's incredibly witty and improvised liners out in the free world where you can roam and he occasionally makes his presence, or his down-right back handed comments in his personal notes.

Though don't get me wrong, I understand when things don't mesh well with someone that you know better than anyone else could ever know someone and things don't add up or something happens.

My weakest points when it comes to figuring out the cases was definitely the recreation process. I feel like this is where the two kind of combine heads. This is where they're seemingly more in tune with one another. I really enjoyed having Jon be the one to piece together what happened, as though they were walking through it together without saying a word. Finishing each other's sentences with each point that was connected.

Making mistakes you couldn't pin-point precisely, and then when you finally get it you either feel accomplished or a little defeated because it's like "Okay well you knew that you just had a few steps to get there" and Jon's in the corner being like "We're supposed to be a team y'know" and it's like I know, I just suck at being a detective.

Jon's reactions to what you do in the cases almost each and every step of the way is what sold his personality for me. He's rounded enough to have himself as a separate entity to Sherlock, with his own opinions and thoughts and sense of morality. He's a fantasy nerd for goodness sake, drinks and smokes a lot more than Sherlock probably ever implies, and is never afraid to speak on the sensual things (I'm talking about Sherlock's unmentionables comment as well as the painting in the caravanserai)

Which means he's very capable of calling Sherlock out when he does something wrong. A healthy relationship with anyone you assign yourself to isn't immune to having arguments or disagreements. Much less, you're allowed to tell someone you utterly made a mistake.

Both of them have a sense of mortality and a sense of justice. When someone is wrongfully accused or being blackmailed, or even shot down, that's a red flag in their books. The only reason I'm calling him dramatic in this sense with these images is because I had been nearly a full clear on two separate bandit lair occasions, and scuffed the very last one at the last possible second and left the dude a corpse on the floor. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.

Though however, the consequences of your actions that give you Jon's comments do in fact alter the image of his visage when you open his notes. If you've done this type of accident enough, it makes sense. Sherlock does not act this way, this is not Sherlock, what the hell is going on? Jon would have no ability to step in and take away the automatic to defend people. It's immoral, and the two of them don't need to stoop to a lower ground to gain justice for something else.

You're a detective, you do not get a say in who stays above ground and who goes, that's not your prerogative. And that's why I love reading these notes. A lot of them are not mentioned here because 1) they're mostly positive because more often than not I had some sense of understanding of what I needed to do, and 2) they're repeated in certain situations. Though I'm very tempted to have a playthrough of where I get more negativity in Jon's responses to see if there are any other quotes that I've not seen before.

There were already at least 30 pages worth of comments - but I really love his little doodles. This game lets you mess up, it's not going to reach forward and say "this is what you need to do" there's no hint whatsoever. You're bound to make these mistakes, and it's the comments given that makes you feel like you're truly a part of the action and story you're walking through.

You're not alone when you travel here, and what you do is painting a certain image of yourself to someone that cares about you. This is your story, and you're free to make these mistakes, you're free to take the information you learn, dissect it and learn what happened - but in the end, it's you that makes the ending decision. There is no one correct answer, but there are many consequences.

#sherlock holmes chapter one #sherlock holmes: chapter one #frogwares sherlock #frogwares jon #long post #discussion #sherlock holmes #jon #I just really like the commentary Jon gives you in the journal #the differences in the way the two of them talk really shines here #there's humor in his words #there's puns in his words - and there's anger and confusion and worry in his words #Jon cares about everything you do - especially when you travel through a journey #and yeah I made a lot of mistakes I'M SORRY #feel free to add your own thoughts and antics within this #I wanna hear TALK FROM Y'ALL SPEAK TO ME

[1-imaginary-girl]

Wolf Bite Pt. 2

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: Two weeks have passed since Klaus healed you and the two of you have gotten a lot closer. But when your friends find out about this, they have more than a few choice words for you. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: angst followed by comfort

Word Count: 4755

Part 1

A/N: I've been excited to write this one, I love some good angst but with a happy ending. I might have made the gang a little meaner than I think they are but at the same time, I can see them doing this lol. Also I might want to do another part which shows the more romantic side of their relationship, since this one's kind of lacking, and also where the gang gets what they deserve so let me know if that's something you'd be interested in! I love reading your comments. Okay enjoy!

It’s been a few weeks since you got bit by a hybrid. Since big bad Klaus Mikaelson saved you and told you he genuinely liked you. You’re still reeling from the incident and processing how you feel and what to do next. Your friends have been less than helpful.

That night, when your friends returned to find you no longer on your deathbed, they rejoiced for about 5 seconds. Joy quickly gave way to confusion and suspicion as they wondered how you were suddenly okay. Although a part of you wanted to keep Klaus’s visit to yourself, to keep that little moment untouched, you knew you had to tell them. Their reactions were not what you were expecting.

The group immediately scolded you for letting Klaus into your house. They were convinced that it was part of a larger scheme to have access to your home, with only Elena and Bonnie trying to argue that maybe he did it because he liked you. You felt reassured until they were eventually convinced otherwise. 

Of course, when you tried to explain how you felt and that he wanted nothing in return, no one believed you. That was the first time you felt real anger towards your friends. Not only did they leave you to die without even trying to ask Klaus to save you, but they were blaming you for saving yourself. Your anger was not met with sympathy as the group began to guilt-trip you, reminding you of all the horrible things Klaus has done and shaming you for defending him. After a while, you gave in to their words and let the anger go like you usually do. Well, not all of it.

The only person who truly made you happy these days, was the man in question. The only one who seemed to care if you survived. But more than that, he cared if you lived.

The morning after his visit, you awoke to discover that Klaus had left you his phone number along with a message that read: So I can do a better job of reminding you ;). You immediately remembered what he meant and it made you smile.

Since then, you and Klaus had been texting every day. He continued to check up on you and send good morning texts and you began to open up to him, sometimes being the person to text first. You feel like you have nothing to hide with Klaus and that you can be yourself without worry. You’ve learned a lot about the hybrid through the texts. For example, he can be really funny and will make horrible puns to make you laugh. You feel comfortable joking around with him.

Also, as promised, he has continued to shower you with compliments which make your day. You also start to believe his words and gain a little more confidence in yourself. 

Overall, you feel like you have become a lot happier since texting him, as well as hanging out more with Rebekah. The female original had also taken a liking to you at the start and your friends aren’t as opposed to you being friendly with her, although they don’t know how often the two of you hang out.

She was absolutely furious to hear about the hybrid bite incident and she blamed your friends more than her brother (although not completely absolving him of blame) for bringing you into their danger. She insisted that the two of you hang out more so she could look out for you which warmed your heart.

With your time being taken up by the Mikaelson’s, you find yourself drifting away a little from your friends. You don’t tell them about your friendships with the Mikaelson’s for obvious reasons and because you know they’d never believe you. They’re still cautious around you, suspicious that having Klaus’s blood in you might have changed your allegiance somehow like his sired hybrids. Personally, you think that’s ridiculous and doesn't make sense. You barely even talk about them when you’re with Klaus or Rebekah. But you also don’t want to add to their superstitions.

Still, you feel a little guilty for not seeing them as often, so when you hear from Bonnie that the group is meeting at Elena’s house to discuss some new problem, you decide to tag along.

Now you find yourself in the same position as always, standing in a corner listening to the group discuss plans while they ignore your presence. Not that you’d have anything to say. The discussion is over what to do with Alaric and his other half, but frankly you start to tune them out. You just wanted to hang out as normal friends, not as supernatural creatures facing another threat.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to see a text from Klaus: Hello beautiful, want to meet up for a bite to eat? 

Then he sends another text: Of the human variety, of course ;)

You smile and shake your head. You text back: I’m hanging with my friends, remember? The distraction is welcome as you wonder how long this meeting would take. You wonder if you should ask the girls to hang out after it wraps up. You haven’t had a girl’s day in a while. Although the thought of asking makes your palms sweaty and your stomach flip.

He texts: Aw, but wouldn’t you rather hang out with me? I promise I’ll be more fun.

You bite your lip to constrain your grin. You text: That’s not the point.

He immediately replies: Ah, so you don’t disagree?

You can’t help the small chuckle you let out. Unfortunately, the noise draws the group’s attention to their neglected member.

“Something you’d like to share with the class?” you hear Damon say. At first you don’t think they’re talking to you, but when the silence drags on, you lift up your eyes to find them all staring at you. Your cheeks quickly heat up.

“N-no, sorry,” you say, trying to remember what they were talking about to pretend as if you were paying attention.

You catch Caroline narrowing her eyes. “Who were you texting?” she asks and you stare at her shocked. You don’t know how she knew, or maybe she guessed, but your panic rises nonetheless.

"No one, nobody, uh—a classmate," you scramble to come up with a lie but you’ve been put on the spot.

“I don’t buy it,” the blonde says. You become too caught up in trying to figure out a way out of this awkward situation that you don’t notice the flurry of movement until it’s too late. Caroline speeds over and swipes your phone from your hand before you can react.

When her eyes meet the screen, they widen and your stomach drops. You speed over to her and grab the phone back before she can read your private messages, but the name of the contact had already been revealed.

“You were texting Klaus?!” Caroline yells, her confused and angry look quickening your anxiety. Unfortunately, this only causes a chain reaction within the group.

“What?”

“What the hell Y/N?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

A bunch of angry voices shoot your way and you’re too overwhelmed to respond properly. Still, you make an effort by saying, “I can explain—” But they just talk over you.

“Why are you texting him?” Elena asks which quiets the group as they wait for an explanation. Your throat dries up but you try to clear it.

“W-well, he left his phone number the night after he healed me—” 

“Of course he did!” Damon exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. You begin to feel frustrated that they won’t let you talk.

“He’s just been checking up on me,” you say. It's not entirely the full truth but you’re trying to diffuse the situation.

“Y/N, Klaus is extremely dangerous. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Stefan says in a softer tone that only makes you feel talked down to.

“He has done nothing but terrorize us since his murderous family moved to town!” Caroline yells, not at all softening her voice.

You clench your fists. “I know he’s done bad things, believe me I do, but he’s started to open up to me. I think he’s more complex than you guys think,” you say, finally speaking your piece. When you’re met with incredulous looks, you try to reason with them. “It’s not like everyone here is perfect or hasn’t done evil things.”

“Oh my god, you actually believe him,” Damon says, in disbelief and with a condescending smile. “You actually believe that he’s in love with you.”

Tears prick at your eyes at the implication and you look at the ground. “Damon,” Bonnie hisses. But it does nothing.

“No, I’m sorry, but you’re an idiot if you believe that. Klaus doesn’t have a heart to give,” he continues. He shakes his head with a laugh. “I mean, I bet he’s just been manipulating you to tell him our secrets.”

Your anger grows but that last sentence seemed to strike a chord in the group and the energy in the room suddenly becomes tense. “Wait, Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re in love with him,” Elena says in a concerned tone.

“Have you been spying on us for him?” Caroline asks. And just like that, the group’s paranoia brought on by the wolf bite resurfaces in full force as they all give you suspicious looks. You don’t believe this.

“God, no, you guys aren’t listening! We are just friends, and we only text each other,” you say, practically pleading with them to hear you out. But your anger remains boiling below the surface. “And we don’t even talk about you guys! Do you honestly think I would betray you that quickly?” You try to meet each of your friend’s eyes to get them to see rationally.

“Y/N, I think you’re making a huge mistake,” Elena says, completely avoiding what you’ve just said. You stare, shocked.

“We’re just trying to look out for you; he’s only going to hurt you in the end,” Bonnie pipes in.

“Yeah, so why don’t you go ahead and end this before you do something you regret,” Damon says. All of their words circle around in your head and suddenly you lose control of your fury. You can’t help it. You snap.

“Oh my god, just shut up!” you yell. “You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you have any idea how miserable I have been for the last few months? All of you have slowly started to ignore me and cut me out of this group and I felt so alone. Now, I’ve finally found someone who has noticed me and who makes me happy, even if that person is Klaus, and you have the gall to stand there and tell me that he’s the one who’s going to hurt me? That you’re ‘looking out for me’?”

You breathe heavily, staring at your friends as they digest your words. But of course, Damon is the only one to open his mouth.

“You’re so naïve,” he scoffs. You glare at him.

“Am I Damon? Tell me, of the two of you, which one saved my life while the other stood back and was willing to let me die.” You look at all of your friends with burning tears in your eyes. “You were all just going to let me die.” A few of them have the decency to look ashamed. You shake your head and say the thing you’ve been holding back for weeks. “The Mikaelsons have been better friends to me in the past few weeks than you guys have been in years.”

A heavy silence coats the room. You feel a weight lifted off your chest. You had been quietly holding on to that anger, that resentment, for too long now. Maybe that’s what’s been keeping you from your friends. Maybe now that the truth has been laid out, you can start to rebuild. Your hope is quickly shot down.

“Well then, why don’t you go join their family? Because you are no longer welcome in this group,” Damon says. The sombre words make your anger fizzle out. Your jaw drops in shock and you find yourself struggling to breathe.

“That’s not true—” Bonnie says, glaring at the Salvatore.

“No he’s right,” Elena says. One of your closest and oldest friends, someone you’ve known since childhood, now looks at you only with disdain. “It’s them or us. And it’s clear which side you’ve chosen.”

You shake your head silently as a tear rolls down your cheek. The reality of the situation is quickly crashing down on you.

“You should probably go now,” Caroline says. You take that moment to meet each of your “friends” in the face. You silently plead with them to say something, to stand up for you, to fight for you. But it’s clear that that’s not going to happen. You’re either met with a glare or they won’t meet your gaze at all. You hold yourself together and, somehow, find the courage to walk away from them.

When your hand reaches for the doorknob, you hear Damon say, “Don��t be surprised if they don’t want you either.” You freeze. You take a deep breath and leave the house.

No one comes after you.

†††

Your feet carry you past your house. You don’t want to be in an empty home right now. But you also have no idea where to go. A hole is burning its way through your chest as the devastation from your friends wreaks havoc on your mind. The thought occurs that you could go to the Mikaelsons but you immediately shut that down. You hate it, but your friends words continue to hold sway over you. You start to convince yourself that they wouldn’t want you either.

You walk until you reach the edge of the woods and keep walking. Tears continue to trickle down your chin but you haven’t let your feelings out. Hidden from the town, you spot a fallen log and decide that’s as good a place as any to cry.

You slump down and take one deep breath before releasing the sobs that have been building in your chest. The world goes dark as you bury your head in your hands. What have you done? You single-handedly isolated yourself from the group. And you now feel utterly lost as you realize how dependent you have become on the group to define who you are. What use do you have now that you’re alone?

Dark thoughts continue to swirl over you as the tears rain from your face. You can’t go on like this. Maybe you should just go back and apologize to everyone. Just as you consider that option, your ears perk up at a distant sound. You bite down on your lip to silence your sobs as you listen for what you heard.

A twig snaps near you and your breath catches. You whip your head to the right, preparing yourself for the worst, when your eyes catch those of Klaus Mikaelson. A part of you feels better at the sight. Another part can't get what your friends said out of your head.

“Y/N?” he says, his face questioning. You try to quickly wipe away the tear tracks from your face, but it’s no use. When he takes a better look at you, his expression drops and he speeds over to you. “What happened?”

He’s on his knees before you. His eyes roam quickly over you, trying to spot any injury that might be causing you pain. You try your best to avoid the problem. “It’s nothing,” you say quietly, trying to keep the hurt from your voice. His concerned gaze indicates it did not work.

“It is not nothing,” he says, definitively. He waits for you to tell him, but you can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure it out for himself. When you don’t speak, he does. “I don’t understand, I thought you were supposed to be with your fri—” His eyes widen when you accidentally choke on a sob, filling in the blanks for him. You watch through blurry eyes as a dark cloud descends onto his soft features. When he meets your gaze, his eyes are glowering. He lowers his voice. “Did one of them do something? Tell me who did this to you.”

Even in your broken state, you know his anger isn’t directed towards you. You don’t fear his reaction and instead try to explain. You shake your head as you say, “I was with them and…we got into a fight.” You bite down on your lip as a sob threatens to take over your speech.

This only further ignites the fire in Klaus. “Where are they? I’ll tear out their throats,” he growls, looking past you as if trying to look for them from here. 

You lower your head, avoiding his reaction when you whisper, “It was my fault.” From the corner of your eye, you watch Klaus focus his attention back onto you. His anger melts into concern.

“What?” he asks, his voice returning to a softer tone. You lift your head and meet his worried gaze.

“It was my fault.” Your voice trembles and a tear rolls down your face. Klaus’s face becomes contemplative as he slowly wipes the tear from your cheek. Then he moves to sit beside you on the log.

“Tell me what happened, love.” He patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts. You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself and Klaus places a hand on your back in support. You send him a small, grateful smile before it drops.

You shift uncomfortably as you try to think of a way to begin. “Well…it kind of started because I was texting you,” you say awkwardly. His eyes widen and you see guilt cloud his features. You reach out and drape your hand over his to silently reassure him that he has nothing to feel guilty about. He brightens and you find the strength to continue.

“Um… they found out that I’d been talking to you and…they got angry with me,” you say slowly dredging up the conversation in your head. Your eyes begin to well with tears again and Klaus squeezes your hand. “They…they told me how you were a bad person and that I shouldn’t be seeing you.” You don’t see Klaus’s jaw clench as he looks away from you. “But I told them that that’s not how I see you.” His eyes return to you and he can’t help himself from interrupting.

“It’s not?” His words catch you off guard, specifically the shock and insecurity in them. You look at him and furrow your eyebrows.

“Of course not,” you say and he parts his lips in surprise. You think you see his eyes start to tear up but that could’ve just been you. 

Then he clears his throat and says, “Sorry, continue.”

“They…they told me that I was an idiot for thinking like that.” Klaus’s feature harden once more. “They said that you’ve been manipulating me and that…that you would never actually like me.” 

“Y/N…” He says your name with concern, but you won’t look at him. You don’t want the truth, not yet.

“They kept saying how they were just looking out for me, how you were using me to spy on them, and that you would only hurt me. Nothing I was saying was getting through to them.” Your fists clench as you remember the anger from before. Klaus notices and his worry only grows. “I just…I snapped. I finally told them how I’ve felt neglected by them for months. How they’ve ignored me time and time again and that I was finally happy for the first time in a long time. That’s because of you and your family.”

If you were paying attention, you would’ve seen Klaus’s face glow and his heartbeat speed up. He looks at you so intensely that his gaze could burn a hole through you. He looks at you like you are a beautiful light created just for him. Of course, his anger still burns strong at hearing your so-called friends treatment of you, but he never thought that he would be your light. But of course, you didn’t see any of this.

Your body deflates as your anger is overpowered by sadness. “Then they told me I should just go ahead and join your family because they weren’t my friends anymore.” Your breathing stutters as more tears slip past your eyes. You faintly feel the squeeze of Klaus’s hand. “I watched as all of my friends turned on me and kicked me out.” With the pain reigniting, you can’t hold back your sobs anymore. “And now,” you choke out. “I’m alone.”

As soon as you finish talking, Klaus is quick to envelope you in his arms. You grip his shirt tightly and bury your face into his neck. He holds you just as tight, with one hand around your middle and the other delicately holding the back of your head. 

“It’s okay, you’re alright,” he whispers, continuing to hold you tight as you let out all of your emotions. He continues to whisper reassurances until sobs stop wracking through you. He waits until your breathing has returned to normal before gently pulling away. Your grip slips away as you sniffle, trying to recompose yourself. But he only pulls away enough to place his hands on your shoulders. 

You reach up to get rid of the wetness on your face, but his hands beat you there. As his hands gently brush away your tears, you focus your attention on the man in front of you. The two of you are only inches away and your breath hitches with the realization. You’re suddenly embarrassed that he’s seeing you like this, and you’re sure your face looks like a complete wreck. But he only continues to look at you with concern and empathy.

His hands return to your shoulders as he offers you a small smile. “Okay?” he asks and you nod your head, sniffling one last time. He nods, his smile remaining as his hands fall into his lap. You notice, though, that he makes no move to distance himself from you. His smile slips from his face as a somber look replaces it. You’re afraid of what he’ll say with his face looking so worried.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, love,” he says. Then his eyebrows furrow. “But, why do you say that it’s your fault?”

You are not expecting that question. Your eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh,” you say, trying to answer without dredging up anymore intense emotions. “Well, I started the whole thing.” That answer does not satisfy the hybrid as he continues to look at you. You start to become nervous. “I mean, I knew how they felt about you. And I ignored them.”

“Do you regret getting to know me, then?” he asks trying to keep up his indifference, but a wall is built nonetheless in preparation of your answer. You only widen your eyes.

“What? No, of course not.” Klaus releases a small sigh of relief. You’re starting to understand what he’s hinting at, but you’re not prepared to listen and you scramble to come up with something to defend your friends. “But…maybe I should have told them instead of keeping it secret. Or, I shouldn’t have brought you up or—”

Two hands are placed on either side of your face as your bleary eyes meet his. He waits a moment before speaking. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You squeeze your eyes, trying to block out the truth. But his hands don’t move from your face. “Your so-called friends are the ones who are in the wrong.” You take a deep breath and meet his gaze. His lips quirk upwards. “You deserve so much better than them. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.” You open your mouth on instinct, but any words of defense die on your tongue.

“I just…they’re all I’ve ever known. I didn’t want to lose that,” you say instead, the reality of the situation settling slowly in your mind. Your panic and grief at losing them is melting into acceptance and, if you’re honest, a bit of relief.

“I know, love,” Klaus says with a sad smile as he lets go of your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I wish they had been kinder to you. But they haven’t been acting like friends. You shouldn’t have to defend yourself to them or fight to make yourself seen and heard.”

You nod along, looking at your hands. “I suppose,” you say, which makes him smile at your progress. 

“And you’re wrong, you know.” His words causing you to look up in confusion. “You are not alone. Not if you don’t want to be.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“You’re always welcome with my family and I, no matter what your friends say.” Your eyes light up.

“Really?” 

“Of course, love,” he chuckles, relieved to see hope return to your face. “We happen to like you very much and would love to see more of you. If you’d like that, of course.” 

“I’d love that!” you say, a bit too enthusiastically. You blush and clear your throat. “I mean…I think I’d like that.” Klaus laughs which brightens your smile. You take a deep breath and you suddenly feel much lighter. “Wow. I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt this good.” Your smile dips. “I guess my friends really were holding me back, huh?”

Klaus offers a sympathetic smile. Then he takes your hand and squeezes it. “Well that’s all in the past now, right?” 

You nod. “Right.” You look at him and giggle as something hits you. “I promise, I’m not always in this much distress.”

He chuckles along, but gives you a genuine look. “You’re allowed to have off days. I certainly do.” You laugh. You take in the beauty of the man sitting before you, the man who is supposed to be villainous and evil instead helping you feel light and happy.

“Well thanks for coming to my rescue for the second time.” The both of you smile, and you suddenly look at him seriously. “Seriously, thank you Klaus.” 

He blinks back his surprise as he takes in your serious features. He recovers with a smile. “Anytime love.”

A silence falls over the two of you, and as much as you’d like to spend forever in this moment, today’s events have both emotionally and physically drained you. You take a look around and notice the darkness of the woods. 

“It’s pretty late, huh,” you say, awkwardly trying to transition the conversation. Luckily, Klaus catches on quickly.

“I could walk you home if you’d like.” You almost reply with a yes, but then you hesitate. The thought of returning to an empty home, all alone with your thoughts again, doesn’t sound too appealing. “What’s wrong?”

You’re surprised that he noticed your hesitation. But you tell him the truth. “I just…I don’t want to be alone right now,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you can’t help but think of your statement as pathetic. Klaus’s face softens and he thinks for a moment.

“You could come home with me, if you’d like.” His gentle voice soothes your worries. At first, your cheeks heat up at the implication. And then your anxiety causes you to spiral.

You turn to him with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply that I should come over—I mean I’d love to, I mean I just wouldn’t want you thinking that I was seeking your attention or anything—”

He shuts you up by placing both hands on your shoulders again. You guess he noticed it helped the last time. You stop talking and look at him to see a calm expression. “I would be honoured to have you in my home,” he says with a smile. You release a breath of relief as a smile creeps onto your lips as well. “Besides,” he drops his hands. “I’m sure my sister will be happy to have another girl around.”

You laugh at his statement, your anxieties slipping away for the moment, just as he had hoped. Klaus stands up from the log and offers you his hand. “How about it, love?”

You look from his smile to his hand and then back again. You bite your lip to try to contain your excitement. “Okay,” you say, and you take his hand.

* * * * *

Those who asked for a second part:

@marauders-luv @hyperactivewhore @elijahslittleprincess @bellarkeselection @vickymendes30 @susannahmikaelson

#klaus x reader #klaus x you #klaus x y/n #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #tvd klaus #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the originals #the originals fanfiction #tvd

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen: The Great Sin

Plot: Joel and Y/n, separated once again, are told the truth about the cost that will come with creating a cure.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: canon violence, drug abuse, language, blood, guns, needles, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: Well, we’re almost to the end 🥲 I can’t believe there’s only one chapter after this and then it’s over. Rather than think about that, I’m going to focus on letting y’all enjoy this one ❤️

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist that does not have their age/range in their bio. This is also the last chance to be added to the list!

Alrighty, let’s finish it out strong, y’all ❤️❤️❤️

—————

Y/n woke with her head throbbing.

Before her eyes even opened, her brain splitting from the pain she couldn’t remember earning. In the darkness of her lids, she slowly drew on her last fuzzy memories.

Puns.

Flash bomb.

Ellie screaming.

Y/n’s eyes flew open, pushing up on her elbow and feeling a stab of pain through her abdomen.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Blinking until her vision was clear, Y/n looked across to room to see Marlene leant up against the wall.

“We gave you a shot for your ribs,” she continued, “But it’s not magic.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve put out a PSA,” Y/n replied groggily, the force of the flash bomb coming back to her.

Marlene smiled thinly, “Could’ve found a phone along the way.”

Y/n bristled at the joke, relieved to see her comrade alive.

“Gotta admit,” Marlene crossed her arms, “I didn’t expect to see you all in one piece. Figured you’d either run into raiders or you and Joel would go the double-homicide route.”

Y/n held her belly as she attempted to sit up. “Almost did,” she groaned, “A few times.”

“Well,” Marlene gestured to Y/n, watching her with honest eyes, “I underestimated you. You did good.”

Y/n wanted to accept the praise, having finally proven herself as a fighter, but was single-minded in her thoughts. “Where’s Joel?”

“Recovering in another room,” Marlene answered, “His vitals are good, just hasn’t woken up yet.”

Nodding, Y/n carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, ”When he wakes up, tell him to come find me? Ellie’s probably worried sick…”

“Where are you going?” Marlene asked.

Y/n stopped to take a breath, whatever medicine they’d given her hadn’t kicked in yet. “To see Ellie,” she answered plainly, “She’s okay, right?”

Marlene sighed with dread, knowing whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be pleasant. But she also had a one-track mind, and it was humming a different tune than Y/n’s.

“She’s fine,” she replied, her tone having shifted to instill a false calm, “She’s being prepped for surgery.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Surgery? I thought they were just taking her blood?”

“It’s…” Marlene said with a heaviness to her tone, “A little more complicated than that.”

Even though the ache in Y/n’s temples was dizzying, it didn’t take her long to connect the dots as to why it would require surgery to facilitate the vaccine.

And she felt the floor go out from under her when she did.

She looked up to Marlene, barely able to even shake her head, “No…”

Marlene bit her lip, turning her gaze from Y/n and to the floor.

“No…” Y/n repeated, her voice low, “N-no…you wouldn’t.”

Marlene’s painful silence sliced through her.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/n’s volume grew loud with anger, giving her the strength to stand, “You made me risk my life for that girl for three fucking months just so you can kill her?!”

“She wouldn’t have come here with anyone other than you,” Marlene replied calmly, “She trusts you.”

“So you used me,” Y/n’s eyes widened with rage, “You knew I cared about her, you knew I’d do it.”

“You’re not looking at the big picture,” Marlene interjected, taking a step forward but not moving any closer to Y/n, “We get the vaccince, we save millions. We save the millions to come. We can bring the world back to what-“

The rest of Marlene’s words died to the ringing in Y/n’s ears. She braced one of her hands against her bed, feeling as if her knees were going to buckle.

Throughout her time in the Fireflies, Marlene had never entrusted Y/n with as much information as other recruits. It wasn’t for doubt of Y/n’s interests, but rather Marlene thinking Y/n was incapable of handling it. She’d always been slow to pull the trigger, something that had in any other world would have made her merciful. Marlene had only ever seen it as weakness.

Marlene’s opinion of Y/n wasn’t lost on her, she felt it on a daily basis. But to make her travel from one side of the country to another, witholding the sickening truth of what she was doing from her, that was a new brand of cruel.

“She’s going to fix everything,” were the first words of Marlene’s that broke through Y/n’s spinning thoughts.

Her head shot up, staring daggers at Marlene, “You don’t get to make that decision for her.”

“And you do?” Marlene replied, “What gives you the right to choose her fate?”

“Did you ask her?” Y/n inquired, the building rage beginning to seep out of her, “No, y’know what? I can tell by your face that you didn’t.”

“She doesn’t know,” Marlene could feel control over the conversation slipping, she needed to deescalate it quickly, “She’s not going to feel anything.”

“YOU’RE KILLING,” Y/n yelled as loud as her lungs would let her, “A FUCKING CHILD!”

At the last word, two guards stationed outside Y/n’s door marched in, their rifles cocked downards, but ready to strike.

Y/n was quickly starting to understand the gravity of her situation.

Marlene held out a hand to Y/n, as if trying to ease a carnivorous animal. “Do you think I want to do this? Do you not think that I’ve looked for any other option-“

“No,” Y/n shook her head, “I don’t think you have.”

“I knew her mother, Y/n,” Marlene spoke a little louder, “I was there when she was born, and I had to put a bullet in my best friend’s head because she was infected. I promised to keep her child safe. I do not want to do this,” she paused, collecting herself, “But it’s my only choice.”

Three months prior, hearing such a personal story would have meant something to Y/n. Now, it only served to illuminate the true colors of her comrade. Marlene, so blinded by her determination to restore the earth, had allowed her drive to turn to ruthlessness and morph into heartlessness.

“No,” Y/n said, fighting back tears at the thought of Ellie lying unconscious somehwere in the hospital, “Look me in the eye and tell me her mother would want this,” she waited, until impatience won out, “LOOK AT ME!”

Marlene was a lot of things, blunt was one of them. She looked up to Y/n’s red face, unaware of the storm her words were about to trigger, “You’re not her mother.”

The waves in Y/n’s body both crashed and fell at the statement. It was twenty years all over again.

“Take me to Joel,” she swallowed her tears, “I want to see Joel.” When Marlene averted her gaze once again, Y/n could feel some other essential piece of truth shift into darkness. “Marlene,” she gritted out, “Where’s Joel?”

“He’s gone,” Marlene answered, “He left as soon as he knew that you and Ellie were okay.”

Y/n lip quivered with fury, the lies were so clear now. Joel and her hadn’t gone through all they had, made the promises they did only for him to abandon her and Ellie. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t know what you want to hear,” Marlene said, “But he’s gone.”

It was then that Y/n realized she was no longer a Firefly, but a prisoner.

With the last shred of her future slipping being ripped away from her, Y/n’s fury took over. She lunged towards Marlene, one of the soldiers surging forward and shoving her back onto the bed. Y/n cried out in pain, clutching her stomach as the barrel of the rifle was drawn on her.

“Don’t,” Marlene ordered the guard, “She’s already hurt.”

Y/n could no longer hold in her sobs. Ellie had been fooled into dying for a solution they didn’t even know was guaranteed, Joel was being forced to leave them behind, and she was essentially being held hostage by those she’d once trusted with her life.

“You keep her here,” Marlene continued speaking to the guards as if the pain was too incapacitating for Y/n to have any presence of mind, “Lock the doors. Don’t let her out until she calms down.”

Still weeping from both the ache in her ribs and the turn of events, Y/n nearly didn’t open her eyes when she heard Marlene’s boot steps come towards her.

“I know you care about her,” Marlene said softly, “She cares about you too. But there’s such a thing as caring too much…and I’m sorry.”

Through her tears, Y/n watched as her one-time friend walked out the door, washing her hands of the matter.

“You motherfucker,” Y/n growled, getting her feet as the guards exited the room, “You fucking murderer!”

As the door shut and locked on her, Y/n began to bang her fists against the 8x10 pane of glass, “YOU FUCKING MURDERER! YOU MOTHERFUCKING MURDERER!”

Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hot tears pouring down her face as three months of love and care wilted at her feet.

—————————

In reality, Joel was on the next floor down, fighting for his, Y/n and Ellie’s futures. He knew that the love of his life would never roll over and allow them to take Ellie’s life.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Marlene sighed at the question, contrary to what she was sure her reputation was, deception didn’t come easily to her. But she did what she had to for her cause.

There had always been a fire in Y/n, however tamed it was by her more virtuous qualities. Marlene had kept a careful eye on the blaze, never thinking it would spread too far. But there’d been a change in Y/n since they’d last seen each other in Boston, and she was certain her love for Ellie and time spent with Joel had brought it out in her. If they had survived three months in the ruins of civilization, they were dangerous. They needed to be kept apart if the surgery was to be a success.

“She’s decided to stay,” Marlene locked in her story, “She wants to see this through all the way.”

Joel didn’t believe for 1/8th of a second that Y/n would have lied to him. He’d looked in her eyes and watched twenty years of history dance across her irises. He could feel the weight of their future inside his chest, glowing gold with hope. There was no way after all they’d been through that she would walk away from him, just like that…

“No, you take me to ‘em,” he demanded, rising from the bed, “You take me to ‘em right now!”

One of Marlene’s guards came forward and used the butt of his rifle to knock him to the ground. Joel grunted and coughed on his hands and knees, his mind spinning with fear.

“Please,” he begged of Marlene, “You don’t understand.”

“I do,” Marlene said solemnly, reciting a less emotional variation of the story she’d told Y/n five minutes prior, “I was there when she was born, Joel. I promised her mom that I would save her child, I promised,” she paused to swallow back the lump rising in her throat, “So I do understand. I’m the only one who understands. I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “I have no other choice.”

Joel was a lot of things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. He glared up at Marlene, subtly threatening, “I do.”

Marlene looked exasperated, like his fight was some obstacle in her path to roll her eyes at. “Walk him out to the highway,” she ordered the soldiers, “Leave him there with his pack. Give him this,” she unclipped Ellie’s pocketknife from her belt, turning her stare to Joel, “He tries anything…shoot him.”

Joel, dazed from the knowledge that Ellie and Y/n were being held somewhere, was forced to his feet. The soldiers pushed him out of the room, picking his backpack up on the way out, and shoved him down the hall.

All the while, Joel was carefully constructing his plan.

—————————

Y/n sat with her back to the door, twisting her arm to hit the wood with what little energy she had left. She had sobbed and screamed to be let out until her voice was rendered raw.

She had failed. Failed Ellie. Failed Joel. Failed herself.

She wondered if this was her punishment for what she’d done to her family. If for each life she’d taken, she’d lose somebody in return.

She thought of Sarah, her death that seemed to be written in some fucked up universe’s stars, and how she ached for the future she’d never live. The proms, the graduations, coming home from college during holidays, getting engaged, getting married, having kids…all of it. Or none of it. Her choices would have determined her story and whichever path she’d have chosen, it would have been beautiful.

Ellie had been deprived of so many choices in life, and now she was being deprived of choosing whether she lived or died.

By deciding to let Ellie give her life for a cause that wasn’t even hers, the Fireflies were no better than FEDRA. Marlene was making the same calls that the government had made in the first few days of the outbreak. Who got to go to the QZs and who died in a ditch on the side of a road, whose life had lasting value and who was disposable. It sickened Y/n’s stomach and made her wish she had never joined at all.

Since meeting Ellie, Y/n had often contemplated the ghost of the girl’s mother. Having filled the role herself and feeling like Sarah had been carved from her own ribs, she couldn’t imagine what it was like to carry a child, birth her, and then lose her somewhere along the way…now, all she could think of was what Ellie’s mother would do if she were trapped as Y/n was. Would she fight? Would she break the glass with her fist and take on the guards? Or was she just cruel enough to sacrifice her daughter for the greater good? Could Y/n have left Sarah to die if, in some way, she’d held the key to the planet’s salvation?

Y/n took a deep breath, her mind the clearest it had been since waking up.

No parent would let their child die, no matter the circumstances.

And neither could she.

—————————

Joel paused in front of the hospital directory, eyes scanning over the levels and their corresponding departments. He was two floors away from pediatric surgery, and unknowingly, one floor away from where Y/n was being held.

“I didn’t hear anyone say ‘stop,’” one of the Fireflies behind him growled.

Joel glanced down the hall, “Which way?”

“Down the stairs,” the soldier answered, shoving Joel towards the stairwell.

With each flight Joel marched down, he was completing calculations in his mind. How quick did he have to move to take out both guardsmen? Which gun would be easier to reach? Did he rescue Ellie first or find Y/n and gain an extra pair of hands?

Once he decided, he let his steps slow until he came to a complete stop.

“The fuck are you doin’? Keep walking.”

Joel ignored the command.

“I said,” the Firefly grabbed Joel’s shoulder, “Keep walkin’-“

Lightning fast, Joel spun around, elbowing the man in the neck and knocking him to the floor. He nabbed his rifle as he fell, spinning around to shoot the second guard before he could even aim. Taking two steps back, he fired one shot into the first man’s leg.

“Fuck,” the soldier whimpered.

“Where are they?” Joel asked, his finger perfectly still against the trigger.

“Fuck you,” the Firefly growled.

Joel didn’t need his answer. Bill’s written words were etched in the caverns of his mind, about finding that one person to save. In Joel’s case, there were two people worth saving-

“I don’t have time for this,” he decided before planting a bullet in the man’s neck.

And he was doing it by any means necessary.

—————————

Y/n fiddled with her pocketknife in her hand, pacing the room as the pain in her ribs disappeared under the blanket of whatever medication Marlene had given her. She needed the guards outside her room to get pulled away so that she could pick the door’s lock. Once out, she had to steal a gun, find where Ellie was being held, figure out if Joel was still in the building and get them the hell out of dodge.

All she needed was a chance.

“Shots fired! Shots fired!”

The buzz of a radio caught Y/n’s ear, it pulled her to the door and she peered out the glass pane. The pencil stiff stance the soldiers had been maintaining was suddenly sharp with worry. One guard came running down the hall, shouting something Y/n couldn’t make out. Whatever it was caused her captors to charge down the hall as well. It was a threat that required every hand on deck.

Y/n nearly smiled, knowing exactly who could cause that kind of panic.

Slipping her blade into the lock, she fiddled with it until the door opened, freeing her. She threw her backpack over her shoulder, her eye catching on a tray balanced on the bedside table. It contained the used needle they’d already injected her with, plus one full syringe. Y/n picked up the two vials near the needles, one labeled ‘ibuprofen’ and one labeled ‘epinephrine.’

Y/n was weak, her body’s strength drained from trying to heal her ribs. There wasn’t any way she could fight her way out in her current state.

Without hesitation, she squeezed the flesh of her thigh and stabbed the needle through her jeans, discarding it on the floor after.

Drawing a deep breath, Y/n poked her head out the door, looking down each side of the hall before cutting across to the nurse’s station. She scanned the length of the counters for anything she could use as a weapon, finding only old papers and equipment. Distantly below her, she could hear gunfire.

“Hey,” a gruff voice shouted.

Y/n spun around, barely dropping to the floor before the Firefly soldier fired two shots at her. Crouched on the tile, she could feel the epinephrine beginning to kick in, bringing back the strength she’d lost in Silver Lake. She withdrew her knife once again, hiding behind the nurse’s station and listening to the footsteps of the Firefly come closer.

Y/n knew that to save what she loved, she would have to leave whatever was left of her humanity. The part of her that had hesitated to kill had to die by her own hands.

The soldier moved closer.

Closer…

The second his boot became visible, Y/n stabbed the knife through his foot, punching him in the chin when he bent down in pain. She got to her feet and ripped the rifle out of the Firefly’s hands, shooting him in the stomach after.

She stepped over his body, leaving him to bleed out.

—————————

Joel’s steps were inhumanly silent as he crept through the hospital. He fired each shot with machine-like precision, each Firefly falling to the floor, never to pick themselves back up.

Joel had killed countless times since the outbreak of Cordyceps and had felt a healthy dose of remorse. The innocent people he’d killed in his days as a Raider haunted him, much like they did Tommy, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever forget Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him murder the FEDRA guard in Boston.

But as Joel stealthily made his way through the hospital, firing each bullet for the love of his life and the child they loved more than anything, he felt nothing.

—————————

Y/n had tried so hard to live as peacefully as the world would allow her. Despite joining the Fireflies, she never volunteered for first line of defense. If bombs were planted in the city, Y/n was the one counting them, not detonating them. As much as she’d hidden initially from Joel with bloody threats, she’d never committed any acts of violence unless they were absolutely necessary.

Marching down the hospital halls, tears pooled in her eyes with each kill she made until she was sobbing. Flashes of her parents, her siblings, her nephew, Sarah, played in her mind. Their innocence and their gruesome deaths she’d forever feel responsible for. Saving Ellie wouldn’t bring them back, but she couldn’t let another person she cared for die.

Red cheeked and puffy eyed, she murdered without hesitation, allowing love to turn her into a necessary monster.

—————————

Joel went from victim to victim, playing God and delivering their vicious, premature fates. Each time he ran out of ammo, he’d pick up the rifle of his last kill. It all flowed so sickeningly perfect.

He climbed the fourth floor stairwell, shooting the Fireflies attempting to sneak up on him before they knew what was going on. With his better ear, he could hear the gunfire on the floor he was approaching.

He wasn’t the only one putting up a fight.

As soon as Joel stepped onto the fifth floor, a barrage of bullets rained down around him. He ducked behind a wall, waiting for them to slow before running across to the other side of the hall. He let his ammo fly freely, taking down the Fireflies as sloppily as he needed to.

Just as he aimed at the final one, the soldier was kicked to the floor, Y/n stepping on his back and making a fatal shot.

Through his necessary numbness, Joel felt a rush of relief.

Y/n ignored every instinct she had to run into Joel’s arms and instead bent down, picking up the soldier’s rifle and the extra ammo off his belt. Joel did the same with a nearby body.

The two lovers met in the middle of the hall, their weapons resting against their chests, separating their bodies.

Twenty years ago, they were somewhere in a downtown bar, Joel trying to make her laugh and Y/n trying to pretend like she was perfectly capable of taking her eyes off of him. They were warm, they were happy, they were them.

Two decades later, they were stood in an abandoned hospital, rifles on their shoulders, blood on their clothes and vengeance in their eyes. They were bruised, they were broken, they were survivors.

They carried on the same way, shooting anyone who dared to get in their way as they climbed the building. Joel made the more gruesome kills, trying to spare Y/n what little pain he could, but Y/n was fearsome in her own right. The adrenaline from the epinephrine had heightened her senses, making her hyperaware of everything around her. If a Firefly so much as stepped an inch out from behind a wall, Y/n’s rifle was trained on him, not letting him live more than half a second.

Eventually, they made it.

The sixth floor.

With their sin all over them, Joel and Y/n walked down the hallway, passing the walls decorated with animal murals and creating a gruesome contrast. The glowing door at the end of the hall acted as their guiding light, the homing beacon they’d chased through the bloody battlefield they’d created.

Joel pushed the door open and they walked in, a window giving them a view into the operating room. Ellie was laid out on a table, a nurse was holding a gas mask to her face, drawing her into unconsciousness.

They were nearly too late.

Y/n, with adrenaline pumping through her veins, broke away from Joel and burst through the second set of doors. The doctor and nurses gasped in horror, jumping at the sudden sight.

“Unhook her,” Y/n growled, “Now.”

The doctor took a step towards Y/n, “How did you get in here?”

Joel was close behind her, Y/n’s speed drawing him out of his daze. “Unhook her,” he echoed.

The doctor nervously reached for a scalpel, holding it up to Joel and Y/n with shaking hands. “I won’t let you take her.”

He’d taken one step towards Y/n before Joel shot him, beating the epinephrine to protect her.

The nurses screamed and covered their ears, Y/n took it as her opportunity to move in on them.

“Un,” she enunciated, backing the women up towards Ellie’s bed, “Hook…her…now.”

“Move!” Joel shouted, keeping his gun drawn on them.

The nurses stepped to, unhooking Ellie’s various monitors and taking out her IV, a small stream of blood escaping the leftover hole. Joel couldn’t stand the sight of her bleeding.

“Cover her arm,” he ordered once again, “Fast.”

They obeyed and taped a piece of gauze to Ellie’s arm.

“Turn around,” Joel said as Y/n came back to stand beside him.

The nurses, shaking and whimpering in fear for their lives, did as they were told and turned their backs. Y/n kept her gun trained on them while Joel moved to Ellie, cupping the back of her neck and sitting her up. With the reassurance of her shallow breaths against his neck, his worst fear stayed buried twenty years in the past. He lifted Ellie into his arms delicately, his brutality melting to tenderness as soon as he’d touched her.

As Joel carried Ellie out of the room, Y/n stayed on his six and kept her gun aimed. She didn’t spare a glance at the doctor or the operating table as she left, unable to look at even one reminder of what could have been.

Joel and Y/n made it back down the hall, walking with the speed of criminals but the exhaustion of two people who had just laid waste to the world. Y/n tapped the elevator call button rapidly, the true effect of the epinephrine was starting to hit. She stumbled into the car behind Joel, smacking the button for the parking garage and leaned up against the wall. Her heart was slamming against her chest, sweat was pooling at her temples, her body was buzzing.

Joel peered over at her, concerned, and received a passive shake of the head.

“Is she okay?” Y/n whispered in between panting breaths.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled, staring down at Ellie. The reality of the decision they’d made was beginning to hit them both.

They were dooming the world to save theirs.

The elevator gave them little time to think, dinging as it hit the bottom floor and opening its doors. Y/n stepped out ahead of Joel, her rifle pointed towards any threats lurking in the shadows. Joel spotted a parked and running car, the two of them made a beeline for the vehicle.

“You can’t keep her safe forever.”

Y/n spun around, Marlene stepped out from the darkness with her handgun drawn. Y/n didn’t hesitate to keep her rifle raised.

“No matter how hard you two try,” Marlene took slow, steady steps towards them, “No matter how many people you kill, she’s gonna grow up. And then you’ll die, she’ll leave. Then what? How long till she’s torn apart by Infected or murdered by raiders? Because she lives in a broken world that you could have saved.”

There was truth to what Marlene was saying, neither Joel nor Y/n could deny that.

“Maybe,” Joel answered, “But it isn’t for you to decide.”

“Or you two,” Marlene replied, her eyes flicking to Ellie, “So what would she decide, huh? ‘Cause I think she’d wanna do what’s right.”

Y/n nearly flinched, torn between Ellie’s fierce desire to protect and the plans she had for her future.

“And you know it,” Marlene’s gaze fell on Y/n, seeing the unsureness from her comrade. She slowly lowered her gun, “It’s not too late. Even now, even after what you two’ve done…we can still find a way.”

Y/n and Joel had lost everything to Cordyceps, one way or another. They’d lost their daughter, Y/n had lost her future with Joel and Tommy, her family, Joel had eventually lost Tommy, Tess, Bill and Frank…Cordyceps had taken anything and everything meaningful in their lives. They should have been first in line for advocating for a cure, and they would have been…

But nothing, not even the salvation of the world, was worth losing Ellie.

And that was what made it so easy for Y/n to shoot Marlene in the gut.

As soon as her former friend dropped to the floor, Y/n’s gun fell from her hands and her knees began to wobble. The room was spinning and her heartbeat was ramping up even further. The epinephrine was backfiring.

“No, no, no,” Joel mumbled, spinning around to put his back to Y/n as she fell forward, “Hold onto me.”

Y/n weakly reached around Joel’s neck and looped her arms around him.

Joel strained under the combination of Y/n and Ellie’s body weight, but his determination surpassed his body’s abilities. Carrying one and dragging the other, he fought his way to the truck. He shuffled Ellie in his arms to reach for the door, sliding her carefully into the backseat, before handling Y/n.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked, twisting his body to take her into his arms, “What’s happening?”

Y/n, beginning to lose her grip on consciousness, shook her head once again and let her head loll against Joel’s shoulder.

“Hang on, hang on, honey,” Joel hurried, growing panicked that her injury had finally gotten to her and torn an organ, “Just hang on for me.”

Joel blindly reached for the passenger side door, he lifted Y/n with a grunt and placed her carefully in the seat. Brushing his hand against her cheek, he wiped the sweat off her skin.

“Rose,” Joel called in a rush as Y/n’s eyes began to flutter shut, slapping her face a few times, “Rose, honey, come on. Stay with me.”

A groan from behind them drew Joel’s attention and got Y/n to open her eyes. The two of them shared a knowing look, Joel swallowing harshly before dragging his fingers down Y/n’s perspiring cheek and unholstering his gun.

Y/n’s gaze followed him as he walked away from her, through the haze of the drugs, she felt some semblance of guilt. Not enough to make her call Joel’s name and ask he show mercy towards Marlene, but some little inkling of guilt that stood the chance at gnawing at her conscience if she ever came back to lucidity.

In the seconds before the bullet released from its chamber, Y/n memorialized her time with the Fireflies. She grieved their attempts to save Boston in the dark of night. The kids they’d lost in the fight, so eager to help, like Riley. All the battles that had seemed like part of something grander that now felt meaningless, now having seen the end goal. If death only bred death, and violence only bred violence, then perhaps there was truth to the old saying…the road to hell was paved with good intentions.

She tried, she thought, as a few tears escaped her eyes, she’d tried so hard to make a difference…

It had just been with the wrong people.

Joel fired one shot

Y/n was freed.

Joel hurried back to the truck and to Y/n’s side, her eyes were now shut and her pulse was slapping against her neck.

“Honey, come on,” Joel said softly, trying to calm both of them down, “I need you to take some deep breaths. Nice and slow.”

“Drive,” Y/n breathed, her heart practically beating out of her chest. Regardless of whether the epinephrine was going to kill her or not, they needed to escape.

Joel hesitated before pressing a kiss to Y/n’s forehead and shutting her door. He ran around the car, slamming its hood down and jumping in the driver’s seat. The keys were still in the ignition, there was nearly a full tank of gas. They were going to make it.

Joel looked over to Y/n, who had gone limp in her seat.

“Rose,” Joel practically shouted, reaching over to feel his love’s wrist, still feeling her pulse working overtime, “Honey, c’mon, wake up.”

“Drive, Joel,” Y/n slurred, her head slumped against her seat.

Joel did as requested and put the truck in drive, maneuvering them through the parking garage. All the while, he kept one trembling hand on Y/n’s knee, her rifle knocking against his knuckles each time they hit a speed bump. He didn’t know if by saving Ellie’s life, he was going to lose Y/n’s, and for once, Joel wanted a win. A full win. He didn’t want to sacrifice one more person.

The garage’s exit lay at the end of a long stretch of tunnel, the glow of daylight approaching faster and faster as Joel drove. Their three month journey would come to a close and his sins would see sunlight. And while anyone else would have said it had all been in vain, to risk one’s life to save humanity only to decide that humanity wasn’t worth the asking price, it wasn’t a waste. Not to Joel.

He glanced in the dashboard mirror, Ellie’s sleeping form in the backseat.

He looked over the glovebox, Y/n’s chest finally beginning to rise and fall at a steadier pace.

He would have done it all over again.

Every.

Single.

Part.

—————————

In a puddle of her own sweat, Y/n came to a few hours later, her head leaned up against the truck window. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the sunlight, and took stock of the rapidly moving landscape. There were forest trees and mountains in the distance.

“Hey,” Joel said, wrapping his hand around Y/n’s thigh.

“Hey,” she mumbled back, looking over to Joel, “Where are we?”

“Just outside of Wyoming,” he answered, rubbing his thumb across her jeans with a deep need to touch her, to assure himself she was okay. “Still a couple hours till we get to Tommy’s.”

Y/n hummed and nodded weakly, trying to look into the backseat at Ellie

“She’s been in and out,” Joel said, keeping his eyes focused on the road, “I told her about the raiders.”

Confusedly scrunching her brows, Y/n glanced back over at Joel.

“Attackin’ the hospital,” Joel continued, his pleading eyes drifting to his partner, “And about the tests they ran on her.”

“Yeah,” Y/n mumbled, reading Joel’s facial cues and coming to some understanding. She needed to be filled in on where she fit into the story.

Joel rubbed his hand over Y/n’s leg, “Get some sleep. I’ll wake ya when we’re close.”

There was so much she wanted to say, but her thoughts were too groggy to string more than two or three words together. With one scan of Joel’s clenched jaw and tired gaze, Y/n could tell he was feeling something similar. There’d be time for talking and setting their story straight, but for now, Y/n could close her eyes once more and settle into the knowledge that they were going home.

—————————

The next day, the car decided it had carried them far enough and the woods of Wyoming was where they’d part ways.

Joel examined the engine, a useless task considering they didn’t have the tools to repair anything, while Ellie and Y/n sat in the car.

“Well, she got us close enough,” Joel announced, coming around to the driver’s side, “We gotta walk the rest of the way. Probably about a five-hour hike,” he hung on the car door in front of Ellie, “But we can manage that. Remember?”

Ellie scanned her memories, bringing up their third day together, in the Massachusetts woods. She smiled, “Yeah.”

“Easy for you to say,” Y/n grunted as she used the backseat door to pull herself out of her seat, “You’re not walking around with two cracked fuckin’ ribs and a headache the size of Texas.”

“What happened to you back there anyway?” Ellie finally asked, Y/n had slept nearly the whole drive thus far. This was the longest she’d stayed awake.

“I did drugs,” Y/n replied honestly, having everything and nothing to hide.

“We’ll take it slow,” Joel promised, looping an arm around Y/n’s waist and kissing her forehead, “Take breaks.”

Y/n chuckled, “There’s a hot shower and a bed waiting on the other side of this fucking mountain,” she pointed up at the first hill they’d have to climb, “If anything, we’re shaving time off this thing.”

Joel smiled at the woman, who was already pulling Ellie to her feet and marching in the direction of their starting point.

As they hiked, Y/n’s energy started to go downhill again, and the painkillers she’d been given at the hospital had completely worn off. She leaned on Joel eventually, letting him brace some of her weight during the steeper portions.

Ellie, while concerned for Y/n’s wellbeing, was even more quiet than before they’d reached the hospital.

“Y’know, Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time,” Joel broke the silence and looked back to Ellie.

Y/n tilted her head towards Joel in surprise. It was the first time he’d brought up his daughter on his own accord…ever.

“I wouldn’t say it was her favorite thing. She wasn’t a fan of the mosquitos and such,” he continued, “But she was a big climber or…scampering. That’s probably the right word.”

“It is,” Y/n interjected, sharing a small smile with Joel.

“That girl…” Joel muttered, “She’d see a big rock and just…” he shot his free hand out, “Pew!”

Even at the mature age of thirteen, Y/n could remember Sarah and her running Texas’ nature trails and climbing the less dangerous rocks. Joel would follow behind, laughing and telling his girlfriend that if she broke his daughter, she was buying him a new one.

“She woulda liked you,” Joel told Ellie, it was one of the most honest things he’d ever said. “Not to say the two of you are the same. Definitely different kids.”

“How so?” Ellie softly asked from behind Joel and Y/n.

“Well, she was a lot more…” Joel trailed off, “I wanna say girly,” he quickly turned to Ellie, “And I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly.”

“I’m not,” Ellie admitted, barely smiling up at Joel.

“Yeah, you’re not. So that,” Joel chuckled, tightening his hold on Y/n a little as he listed off Sarah’s attributes, “She was taller. She had a killer smile. Again, not sayin’ that you don’t.”

Y/n shook her head, withholding a laugh for the sake of her ribs. Three months prior, they’d all been threatening to kill each other. Now they were dancing around conversational landmines that weren’t even there, so afraid of hurting one another.

“But you know why I think she’d like you?” Joel addressed Ellie once more.

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re funny,” Joel answered, “I think you would’ve made her laugh.”

Y/n nodded, “She also would have appreciated the well deserved crap you give her dad.”

Joel snorted at Y/n’s comment, knowing there was truth to it. Sarah had always enjoyed having someone to gang up on him with, but no fiercer duo had ever existed than the likes of his daughter and his girlfriend.

“Anyway,” Joel felt his emotions beginning to tighten around his throat, “I bet you would’ve liked her back.”

“Yeah,” Ellie said, still sounding distant, “Bet I would’ve.”

The weight of Sarah’s death had suffocated Joel and Y/n separately for two decades. It had been a blade, sticking out their chest, that they’d somehow learned to live with. But there was something, between their time with Ellie and their coming back together, that had caused the pain to…change. It would never hurt any less than it did now, but Sarah’s memory now seemed like one they could look back on with more than grief. There could be smiles and laughter as they thought back on their beautiful, brilliant girl.

Y/n rested her head on Joel’s shoulder as they walked, he pressed his cheek to her hair. They both felt it.

A little ways more and they’d reached the top of the hill. In the distance, the town of Jackson stretched within its walls. It was far bigger than any of them had realized.

“There ya go,” Joel said as they paused to take it in, “Not much further now.”

He helped Y/n on the decline with her keeping her weary eyes on what they’d now call home. She nearly cried when she realized that they’d never have to leave it again. The three of them could settle into life as close to what it should have been.

“Hey, wait,” Ellie called, bringing Joel and Y/n to a halt. She began to form words before abandoning them, “Fuck…”

Joel’s muscles tightened, worried that she’d taken the time to pick apart his lie.

“Back in Kansas City, you asked me about the first time I killed someone,” Ellie spoke to Joel.

He fidgeted a little as he held Y/n, relieved that it wasn’t about the hospital.

“When I got bit,” Ellie continued, “I-I wasn’t on my own. My best friend was there and she got bit too. We didn’t know what to do, and she says, ‘We can just wait it out…be all poetic and just lose our minds together.’”

Y/n bit her lip, her brief time of knowing Riley’s spirit flashed through her mind.

“And then she did,” Ellie went on with her story, “And I had to…her name was Riley, and she was the first to die. And then it was Tess. And then it was Sam-”

Joel shook his head, “That’s not on you.”

“No,” Y/n reenforced, “Not at all.”

“I know,” Ellie sighed, “But-“

“Look sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope,” Joel said, “You can feel like…like you’ve come to an end…and you don’t know what to do next,” he sighed, thinking back on all the choices in his life that had led him to this moment, “But if you just keep going…you find something new to fight for.”

Y/n looked downwards, feeling every one of Joel’s words ring true in her heart.

“And maybe that’s not what you want to hear-“ Joel tried to continue his speech.

“Swear to me,” Ellie interrupted.

Joel and Y/n paused, holding their breaths as their tale was challenged. Y/n’s exhaustion allowed her to lower her head as she fought to take a deeper breath.

“Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true,” Ellie continued, her eyes demanding yet still soft.

Lying was an essential part of survival. It was a skill to be honed and a craft that required complete dedication. Joel had lied his way through life, into black market deals and smuggling opportunities. Y/n had lied to aid the Fireflies and to save her own life. They’d been comfortable saying whatever they needed to to stay alive.

That feeling died on the Wyoming hilltop.

“I swear,” Joel replied.

Y/n inhaled as deep as she could, feeling the fullness of what she was about to say wash over her and possess her body.

“I swear.”

Ellie watched them, her mind working to process what they were saying, leaving her nearly unreadable. They waited with bated breath as she decided whether to accept their answers or not.

“Okay.”

Without another word, Ellie picked up her pace, moving past Joel and Y/n to head down the hill. Joel began their descend, but Y/n pulled her arm away from him and stayed frozen.

“Give me a minute,” she said, her eyes on the mountains.

Joel inhaled to argue the point that she couldn’t make it more than ten steps on her own, but the distance in her eyes advised him against it. He let her hand go and began to follow Ellie, turning back once to make sure she was okay.

Y/n let her eyes drift down to Jackson, tracing the outlines of the town and trying to find the house that would become theirs. The possibilities were overwhelming as to what they could do when they got there. If there was electricity, she could cook proper meals for Joel and Ellie. They could have game nights. Tommy could come over at random moments in the day. Ellie could attend a real school. Joel could get back to his roots and fix up the house. They could retire to their bedroom each night, calling out to Ellie to go to sleep before doing the same. It could be the domestic life she’d always wanted, simplistic in every sense.

Except it wouldn’t be real.

Y/n had seen the distrust in Ellie’s face, she knew that at some point, the girl would figure it out. And if she didn’t, she’d always be questioning if her and Joel were telling the God’s honest truth. What their relationship had been would never again be. By saving Ellie’s life, they had forever changed the dysfunctional little found family they’d created.

Y/n blinked once, took a deep breath, and headed down the hill, taking her first step into a life of lies.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fic #twenty years later

[goodomenskinkyrambles]

Disclaimer: I reference kink as a way of processing and letting yourself ‘feel’. Imo, this is a very legitimate and intimate experience if communication, consent, trust, and boundaries etc are respected, and it is not relied upon in place of therapy etc.

Aziraphale comes across as a pillow princess, but this is only because he fears repercussions / is in denial about being on ‘their own side’ when it comes to intimacy.

Whenever Aziraphale gains the confidence to be more himself, his dominance starts to show through. Here, we start to see a switch who is primarily a gentle dom with a subtle sadistic streak.

He enjoys making Crowley follow his orders. He likes to see him squirm as the Demon fights with his pride, only to ultimately give in to his Angel’s wishes.

Crowley is a masochistic brat / bratty sub.

But what about the “Rescue” scene in France?

In S2, Aziraphale reveals that he usually has a plan, but that Crowley loves to feel like he’s saving him. This is a classic ‘power play’. Aziraphale is in control all along —luring Crowley in, playing up to Crowley’s pride… only to rip it away.

And this is very reminiscent of Crowley’s fall.

It is shown throughout that Crowley struggles with the traumatic experience of his fall, especially given the circumstances. He was simply asking “why”. So, what better way to release this trauma, and process it, than in a safe and intimate environment? With his Angel, he can be vulnerable —though they haven’t fully gotten to this point, due to their perilous position with Heaven and Hell.

Being seen, especially through the intimacy of kink, can be a beautiful and healing thing.

And so, our Demon plays up to his pride —his protective shell, shielding him from his anger, his confusion, his pain— and Aziraphale lets him have this, until he doesn’t. As an Angel, he is the perfect person to deconstruct the Demon, and reveal those layers.

Here, Crowley can brat, and ask ‘why’, and be ‘punished’, and have the power taken forcibly away from him, but can still be loved and held and seen as ‘good’. He can writhe in anger and struggle against the loss of power, and still be comforted rather than abandoned. He can be ignored when he is in need, in favour of a good book, but still be taken care of afterwards and never truly discarded.

He’s been in free fall for so long, that for all his feigned confidence and self-assertiveness, the highest form of freedom he can get would be in the form of rope, and intimacy with his Angel, where he doesn’t have to pretend to be strong, or free of worries, or unaffected by things, or tough all the time.

But it is by NO means all about Crowley.

Aziraphale constantly doubts himself, and has constantly been patronised and abused by Heaven and his so-called ‘superiors’ (looking at S1 you, Gabriel).

What better way for Aziraphale to own his thoughts and freedom, and gain confidence in his words, thoughts, ideas, and his own *will*, than in the safe headspace kink provides. Many a time, he has shown himself to have a slight, tantalising edge to him. In S2, he looked every bit the dominant when asserting that /yes, Crowley would be doing the “I was wrong” dance/.

Aziraphale’s style of dominance is subtle but incredibly strong when you’re able to see it.

In S1, he subtly hints that Crowley should remove the stain from his jacket —an action he can easily do, but wanted Crowley to do. Although it can be argued that he wanted this as a display of affection and because it’s ‘not the same’ if he does it himself, it is also a power play —and there are many of these subtleties scattered throughout. Aziraphale’s gentle (but foreboding) approach to dominance shows when we see how little convincing it takes for Crowley to catch on and (brattily, begrudgingly) follow Aziraphale’s whims.

These moments of feigned petulance could be interpreted as Aziraphale himself bratting, but really, Aziraphale always comes out on top —no pun intended— and has an air of unknown power about him. His gentle, airy, and petulant moments makes it all the more hedonistic when he switches to steely, strategising, and commanding. He lets himself indulge in fine foods, intricate books, and good wine. If he let himself indulge in intimacy, I think his particular and exacting nature would show through. Like crepes —he knows exactly what he wants, and will go to great lengths to get it… be it a good book, or Crowley accepting that he is ‘a little bit good’ via an intensely emotional scene.

But what about Crowley throwing him against the wall?!

Well, it looks like said intensive scene would follow, if Aziraphale chose to ‘correct’ Crowley on his insistence of not being nice.

To conclude, though I will happily write more and converse about this all day, and would love to add gifs and examples some day…

Psychologically, it makes the most sense for Aziraphale to naturally side towards dominance. I sometimes feel that for Aziraphale, alluding towards submission just doesn’t do him justice. It would put Crowley —ever the tempter— in control. Previously, Aziraphale’s sense of duty has taken the angel’s control and will from him. Gabriel has taken his power from him. His own anxieties and worries have done the same.

Aziraphale’s growth lies in his dominance, and his self-assertion. By “taking down” his beloved Tempter & serpent, in the most intimate way possible, he is proving that he has made his choice with his own mind, is regaining and revelling in his own power, his own will, and his own desires.

By allowing himself to access this power, he proves this to himself, to the whole of Heaven, and to Crowley.

He proves that, regardless of temptation, he *chooses* Crowley.

#neil gaiman #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #innefable husbands #angel and demon #bd/sm kink #good omens after dark #crowphale #ineffable idiots #sorry for bad posts im new #character analysis #good omens analysis #good omens season 2 #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #azirafell #aziraley #i did a thing #headcanon #canon? #masochist sub #bd/sm masochist #bd/sm rope #too far? #gentle domination

[thesparrowspearl]

Chapter IV of “Return to the Sea”

** Find the other chapters on my blog

The sight gave her a morale boost as she slashed her stolen sword with more strength than before. She shouted at her family, who was trying to stay out of the fight since they were unarmed, unexperienced, freaking out, and handcuffed. Perfect combo.

"Guys we're getting some back-up! Hang in there!" Laila pointed towards the incoming ship.

Confused by what she meant, the British that were away from her looked up only to find the Pearl within 20 feet. The confusion soon turned into panic, as they had to recapture Laila before Captain Jack Sparrow could get his hands on her. Because once he does, they all knew she'd be even harder to catch.

Even faster than before, and somehow with even more strength, they all ganged up on Laila. She tried to fend off as many of them as she could, but they were freakin' British soldiers. With professional training. All of seven of them since she pushed three off the cruise. Badass, I know.

Just as her arms were about to give out on her, she heard different loud, masculine voices soar several feet above her head. Laila soon recognized them to be the crew. As the soldiers became distracted, she made a run for it. As she ran towards her family again, she saw crew members swinging onto the cruise to cover for her. But where is Jack?

Right before she reaches them, someone swings into her and grabs her waist! At this point, Laila was annoyed at the fact she couldn't get to her family, so she elbowed them before looking at who it was. As she turned, her fury turned into tenderness and her eyes softened at the sight of Jack holding her. He smiled at her, "I've missed you, love. Are you alright?"

It took her a minute to gather herself. She was at a loss for words. Without thinking, she cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a hard, passionate kiss. He gasped slightly at the unexpected act of affection but then tugged her closer by her hips. For a moment, she allowed herself to become lost in the kiss. Allowing the memories to come flooding back; the feel of his beaded hair against her fingers, the taste of his rum-soaked lips, the briny smell of the sea, and the sound of his heart beating against her chest. As they pulled away, his stubble tickled her chin. 

As they came down from the clouds, the sounds of thrashing swords and battle cries grounded them. "Jack, Beckett wanted to use me as leverage to get to you. I have no idea how he found me. My family is on this cruise. Please, help me get them to safety." Her eyes were pleading even though she knew he wouldn't say no.

When he heard about Beckett trying to hurt her, something glimmered in his eyes. Anger. But he quickly snapped out of it as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Love, get on the Pearl and send the longboat. Turner and I will help them board. I'll come back for their things. Don't worry, just get to safety." He ordered softly as he used his thumb to caress her cheek in a downwards motion. 

Laila nodded and said "Thanks babe. And by the way, I missed you, too." She gave a small smirk as she hurried off to one of the Pearl's ropes tied to the railing by a crew member. Before she swung, she looked back at her mother and shouted over the brawl "I'm getting you guys to safety! Give me like five minutes!" 

She swung across to the ship and headed straight for the helm. "Oi! Get the longboat! To the cruise!" The crew complied and Pintel and Ragetti jumped down into the boat to row it towards the cruise. At least they'll be safer now.

As the knuckleheads went to retrieve her folks, she steered the ship around the cruise and next to where the Interceptor was stationed. It seemed as though they had dropped anchor, which was pretty stupid considering it's a full blown battle at this point. No pun intended.

"Prepare the cannons!"

"Aye!" Came from all different directions.

As Laila barked out orders, she saw people climb onto the side of the Pearl. First she saw May, Cameron, then Zack and Ethan, then her elders, and then came the pirates. She saw Ragetti and Pintel clumsily stumble onto the main deck only to return to the longboat. Jack entered and behind him came Will. She hadn't seen her friend in what felt like decades. As she noticed him, she caught Will's attention too.

"Laila!" He ran up the stairs to the helm to meet Laila halfway and trapped her in a bear hug. They laughed as they pulled away. "It's been so long, Will!" 

The reunion was cut short as Gibbs shouted across the deck, "Can we bloody fire yet?!!"

Jack and Laila both yelled in unison "Fire!!" Jack looked at her with that cute toothy grin of his as he probably thought that's my girl.

Once again, it was cut short thanks to the sound of cannonballs flying over to the Interceptor. As the enemies opened fire as well, debris spread everywhere. Everyone on deck ducked. It then occurred to Laila that her family still wasn't safe on board. 



#curse of the black pearl #captain jack sparrow #pirates #captainbarbossa #disney #elizabethswann #oc x character #my writing #my fic #fanfiction #my words #johnny depp #jack sparrow #jack the monkey #pirates of the caribbean #caribbean #caribbean sea #william turner #willturner #writers on tumblr #wattpad #the black pearl #blackbeard #book #talk like a pirate day #davy jones #calypso #tia dalma #sea #ocean

[compofworksbybailey]

Two young lovers(fiction)

 there were two young lovers, let's call them Sarah and Dave. Sarah and Dave had what seemed to be the perfect relationship. They met at a quirky coffee shop, bonded over their mutual love for bad puns and cheesy rom-coms, and soon found themselves inseparable. They were the couple that made everyone around them roll their eyes and say, "Get a room, you two!"Once upon a time in a land not so far away, there were two young lovers, let's call them Sarah and Dave. Sarah and Dave had what seemed to be the perfect relationship. They met at a quirky coffee shop, bonded over their mutual love for bad puns and cheesy rom-coms, and soon found themselves inseparable. They were the couple that made everyone around them roll their eyes and say, "Get a room, you two!"

Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and Sarah was eagerly anticipating Dave's grand romantic gesture. She had dropped enough hints, left magazines open to pages featuring heart-shaped jewelry, and even strategically mentioned her favorite restaurant in casual conversation. She was ready for Dave to pop the question and make her his Valentine officially.

However, as the day drew near, Dave seemed strangely distant. He didn't bring up any plans for Valentine's Day, and Sarah started to worry. Maybe he was planning a surprise, she thought optimistically. But as the day came and went, Dave made no mention of Valentine's Day at all. No flowers, no chocolates, not even a cheesy card. Sarah was struck with a fit of rage and confusion. How could he forget such an important day?

In a fit of vengeance, Sarah decided to go out with her friends to a Valentine's Day party. She met a charming stranger, and in a moment of anger and hurt, she ended up sleeping with him. The next morning, guilt gnawed at her, and she knew she had to come clean to Dave. She called him, her heart pounding in her chest as she confessed to what she had done. Dave's response was not what she had expected.

"I'll take 'wasted time' for 500, Steve!" Dave quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Seriously, Sarah? You slept with someone else because I didn't ask you to be my Valentine? That's a new level of petty."

Sarah was taken aback. She had expected anger, tears, maybe even a dramatic breakup scene. But Dave was making jokes? She felt a mix of confusion and frustration. "Dave, I'm sorry. I just felt so hurt and I wanted to get back at you. I know it was wrong, and I regret it deeply," she pleaded.

Dave sighed. "Look, Sarah, I get that you were upset, but this was not the way to handle it. And now you're telling me at a party? Classy move. You know what? I think I'll pass on this drama. I don't have time for this nonsense. I've got better things to do than deal with this."

Sarah felt her heart sink as Dave's words sunk in. She had expected a dramatic reconciliation, maybe a heartfelt apology and forgiveness. Instead, she was met with sarcasm and jokes. She had never felt so foolish and regretful in her life.

As the days passed, Sarah tried to reach out to Dave, hoping for a chance to make things right. But Dave remained distant, his responses short and dismissive. It was clear that he was not interested in salvaging their relationship.

In the end, Sarah learned a valuable lesson - that vengeance and hurtful actions only lead to more pain and regret. She realized that she had let her emotions get the best of her, and in doing so, she had lost something precious. As for Dave, he moved on, making jokes about wasted time and moving forward without looking back.

And so, Sarah and Dave's seemingly great relationship came to an unexpected end, leaving them both with a lesson learned and a story to tell. As for Valentine's Day, well, they both found themselves spending it in a way they never would have imagined - alone, but perhaps a little wiser.

[crossover-enthusiast]

Jdjdjd

As Kevin calls John and frantically begs him to help him, he sees something outside the window.

It's Streber, just standing out there right outside his window. Over and over again, he is mouthing the words, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Kevin begins repeating those words once he realizes what he's saying, leaving John confused and concerned.

The next day, Kevin heads out for like a few minutes, but only to practice swinging his bat again.

But then, Ethan drops by. Ethan tries to do casual conversation, but it's clear he needs something, so Kevin asks him what he needs. Ethan then sternly tells Kevin to stop swinging the bat. Kevin asks why, but Ethan gives no direct answer. Kevin begins to finally let his anger and fear out, and proceeds to literally cry while finally confronting Ethan. Ethan appears confused, and even a little startled. Kevin doesn't even let Ethan speak though, and ends the conversation abruptly and then tries to go back to his house.

As he does though, he hears Ethan muttering something under his breath. He hears Ethan muttering over and over that he's going to literally kill John. This understandably scares Kevin and he heads back in.

The next day, Kevin is hesitant about heading out, but decides to because he needs more food anyway. So he hesitantly goes shopping, but carries his baseball bat around just incase. As he leaves though, he feels that someone is following him. Out of fear, he goes to hide behind the nearest tree. And then, he sees who it is.

It's Streber, carrying a shovel for no apparent reason. But Kevin can only assume it isn't a good reason. Streber has a cold and ominous sadistic expression, and is literally calling out to Kevin like a serial killer.

And then, somehow, Streber finds Kevin. Kevin, frightened, asks him what he's doing. Streber calmly answers he's doing the same thing as he is—he's going back to his house. Kevin asks what the shovel is for, and Streber then asks what the bat is for. Kevin answers nervously that he's practicing his swing, and Streber calmly answers, "Then I lost something again near the construction site, and I have to dig it up."

With no questions asked, Kevin begins to run, and Streber starts laughing manically in a soft manner. Streber begins to slowly follow after Kevin as he runs away, and is somehow managing to be right behind him no matter where he is.

Kevin asks him why he's following him in a frantic manner. Streber answers, "Its because I'm walking home too, Kev. What else would it be?". Kevin keeps running as Streber maniacally laughs from behind him, and he kinda has no choice but to go run on an alternative path. But Streber still follows him.

Kevin asks him why he's still following him. And Streber calmly says, "Because I need to talk to you, Kev."

Kevin keeps yelling for him to stop following him. And after a bit of back and forth, Streber yells angrily, "**NO!**" and then proceeds to manically laugh while still following him.

Kevin runs still, going down an alternative path as well. Streber taunts him, saying, "Cmon.. there's something you wanna talk about, isn't there?". Kevin says no, and Streber yells back angrily, "LIAR!" and then laughs maniacally once more.

As Kevin continues to run away, Streber begins to speak in a somewhat calm but clearly frantic manner as he smiles. "Radford was so worried too.. before he moved away. But I didn't listen. I didn't do anything.. but this time I'll listen. This time I'll listen! You won't move away like he did.. you won't! Thats right.. you wont, you wont, you wont..."

(I'll stop so you can read)

So I'm assuming Kevin is either hallucinating Streber towards the end there, or Streber has actually gone completely batshit (pun not intended)

Either way-

#Gif #Sunny Tag

[soulmate-game]

Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.

“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.

“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”

“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”

The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.

“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.

“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”

Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”

“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.

“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”

Batman. Froze.

Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.

Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.

He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.

“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.

Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.

To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.

“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.

“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”

Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”

Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”

“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.

“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”

“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”

“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”

“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.

“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”

“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.

The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.

“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”

“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.

“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”

“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“

When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.

“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.

“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”

“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”

“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.

Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.

“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”

The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.

“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.

Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”

“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.

When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.

“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #bio!mom Wonder Woman #Bio!mom Diana prince #bio!dad Bruce Wayne #Bio!dad Batman #idk what this is #but it happened #and it’s something

[darkdevasofdestruction]

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

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Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #silent hill #silent hill x reader #silent hill imagine #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #red pyramid #red pyramid x reader #red pyramid imagine

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 writing #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #f1 one shot #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 writing #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fluff #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris writing #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen smut

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 17.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Angst, Excessive Cursing, Fluff, Lactation Kink, Degradation (Cock Slut, Slut, Whore), Daddy Kink, Reverse Cowgirl, Possessive!Yoongi, Doggy Style, Praise, Controlled Orgasms, Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Cream Pie, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pun

A/N: A huge gigantic and hearty thank you to my girls as always @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​, @ppersonna​. I really wouldn’t get chapters done without them.

Days have bled into weeks. The large guest house has been lived in for far too long, or so you think.

It might just be the August heat getting to you, but you've started to hate the guest house.

"Where's my little dove?" Yoongi asks, taking his suit jacket off.

You know for a fact that the CEO is adoring this. He loves being able to be holed up in here with you and his child. He loves that no one bothers with you both, you're both able to carry on like normal people. But your hormones are making you go stir crazy.

When Yoongi smiles at you with his perfect teeth, you can feel your annoyance dissipating in the slightest.

He then frowns when you give him a half assed smile. "What's wrong? Who am I firing?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you.

Your five month belly presses into his stomach, and his eyes flutter shut gratefully.

"I'm sick of being in this fucking house." you grumble into his neck as he holds you tightly.

He sighs gently, he's been waiting for you to speak your mind. He's seen how annoyed you've been lately. He notices everything about you.

"I know, little dove. I'm sorry." he apologizes, rubbing your belly and planting a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I want to go and set up the nursery! I want to paint! I want to be able to go somewhere else besides this stupid gated community!" you complain, running your hand under your growing bump and situating it there.

Your boyfriend sighs, nodding. "I know you do, baby. I'm working hard to make that happen. I'm sorry it's not going fast enough for you and Sesame." he says, tilting your chin to look up at him.

"What if I eat your pussy? Will that make you feel better?" he suggests softly.

"No! It won't make me feel better! Because I'll be laying on the same bed I've been laying on for months, that isn't my own bed." you insist with a whine.

"Mommy's angry," he quips to your stomach, walking around the bar and pouring himself a glass of whisky.

You groan loudly, squeezing your fists out of irritation.

"If I have to look at another cat of nine tails or a flogger situated artistically on the wall, I'm going to blow up this house!" you threaten, pressing your hand to your side as your baby kicks inside of you.

The CEO chuckles above the lip of his glass, eyes softening at how you lean against the marble bar.

"You okay, little dove?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, the baby keeps kicking because they hate it in here as much as I do!" you whine.

Yoongi laughs gently, bringing the whisky glass to his lips. "I know. I'm working hard to make sure Myeyoung has enough in her account to cushion her fall when I file for the divorce." he promises.

You roll your eyes, huffing out loudly as you lean against the bar.

"You look pretty, practically glowing with my heir inside you," he offers.

You pout up at your boyfriend, the overwhelming urge to cry coursing through your body.

"It's just your hormones, baby. I know." he whispers, rounding the bar and pulling you into his arms.

"I just want to lay in my own bed, go in my own art studio, go in the nursery!" you sob, burying your face into his white dress shirt.

He coos gently, running his hand over your upper back comfortably. "I know, little dove, I kn-"

There's a knock at the guest house door, that draws both of your attention.

"Sir?!" the voice belongs to Maya and she sounds absolutely nervous.

"What's wrong?" he calls back, watching as she opens the door.

"Your grandmother is here." she announces, her hands fidgeting nervously with her tight bun.

"Oh fuck!" he curses loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky and downing it all in one gulp.

His hands cup your face, pulling you to look up at him. "I know your hormones are raging right now, I know you're uncomfortable here in the guest house. But, I need you to meet my grandmother. Okay?" he asks nervously, wiping his thumbs over your tear stained cheeks.

"But… I… Fine," you breathe out.

"Thank you, little dove. Thank you! Just be yourself. You're going to do fine!" he insists, grabbing his suit jacket and shrugging it on quickly.

You can tell how frightened he is and you need to pull it together. From what you heard about his grandmother from him, she's always given second hand doting. Meaning that she has always told him how loved he is without showing him any actual caring or affection. It just seems like he's never been loved in his life besides Maya.

From what you know Min Seyoung is a sharp, smart woman with a tongue as quick as a whip.

Turning to the mirror, you smooth out your summer dress, tilting your head at the reasonably large bump that protrudes.

"This is going to be… eventful." he hisses, pulling your hand.

At least you won't have to be in the guest house for now.

The mansion is a sight for sore eyes. Of course, you've seen it on your daily walks. You've entered it when Jin and Sera weren't home but you haven't lived in it in what feels like forever.

You're grateful when Jisoo hands you a strawberry sparkling water, knocking the summer heat straight out of your bones.

"Where is she?" Yoongi inquires, tucking his dress shirt into his pants.

"In your office." Mays says, handing him a glass of whisky quickly.

"Thank you. Come on, little dove. My grandmother doesn't like to be kept waiting." he rushes you.

You've honestly forgotten what nervousness feels like these past few months. You haven't had to worry about a damn thing, but now with Yoongi tapping his fingers to his thighs rhythmically, you remember it all too well.

Each step up the marble stairs sends your body flitting and coursing with nerves. The way he runs his fingers through his hair, the way he sips his whisky is something far beyond what you've ever seen. His back muscles are tense through his suit jacket, the base of his hairline already sweating and you know it's not from the heat outside.

Standing in front of the office door, you swallow thickly as Yoongi takes a deep breath. His hand lingers on the doorknob for a second before he's shoving it open.

"Grandmother," he announces curtly.

The woman is older, her skin practically wrinkle free. There are a few frown lines by her mouth but other than that her skin is smooth. When she looks at her grandson, her eyes soften just the slightest degree but nothing else changes. She doesn't smile. She doesn't even acknowledge your presence.

"I haven't seen you in five months," she huffs.

Her voice is that of irritation and disbelief.

"I've been busy. This is Y/N." Yoongi says, pressing his hand to your lower back comfortingly.

Her eyes zone in on you in a second, fingernails tapping incessantly to the desk beneath them. As she looks you over you can feel yourself becoming smaller, wanting to hide anywhere.

"Yes. Your grandfather told me all about Y/N. Sit." she instructs.

Yoongi nods a fraction, pulling your chair out for you. Your knees shake as you sit, a gentle hand placing on your stomach feeling your child kick inside of you.

"She's pretty," his grandmother surmises.

"Yes, she is." the CEO agrees with a gentle smirk.

You look down at your lap, feeling awkward and confused.

"Maya tells me that you live here still, but both of your beds haven't been slept in for a long time. Where have you gone?" she inquires.

Well she's not shy in the least.

"To the guest house, we've been staying there." Yoongi answers honestly, sipping his whisky.

"Why? Are you not pleased with Sera? You've gotten some random poor girl pregnant and just forgotten all about her?" she goads.

You cringe at the sharpness of her voice, holding your stomach tighter. When Yoongi notices, he doesn't take kindly to how uncomfortable you are.

"She's not some poor girl, she's my girlfriend. And I haven't been pleased with Sera since the day I married that leech."

His grandmother scoffs loudly. "Your girlfriend? Are you twelve? You need a girlfriend? What's suddenly changed in your dynamic?"

"I fell in love." Yoongi replies quickly.

You take sharp breath through your nose, you've never spoken those words to each other yet.

"Oh please," his grandmother mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Grandmother, I'm sorry but I don't know what you're doing here." your boyfriend says, folding his arms.

"When you never even notified us that an article came out about you, that was evidence enough that your girlfriend has warped your mind. What is it exactly that you think you're going to do? Divorce Sera? Live happily ever after with Y/N in this mansion?"

"Yes in fact! I do think that! I deserve it!" Yoongi cries out, gripping tighter onto his glass.

You do not want to be here. You can barely contain the squeak that tries to leave your lips as his grandmother slams her hand down on the desk.

"We have given you what you deserved! And you're throwing it away!" she retorts, narrowing her eyes at you. "Anything to say?!"

"Don't speak to her like that! She isn't someone that you can think so lowly of! She's pregnant with my baby! My heir! She's the love of my life!" Yoongi yells, slamming his glass down onto the desk.

When you look over at him, you can see the neck veins jutting out of his skin. His face is pink with anger and you cower at how furious he is.

"If you think for one second we're going to accept that baby, you've lost your min-"

"You have no choice! Sera is sterile! She isn't able to have kids! And I don't want anything to do with that leech cunt! I have everything I want!"

That news drops like a bomb. You had no idea. Your eyes flutter shut, hearing your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

"If that is true, you should leave the Min legacy to your other family. Not some poor-"

"I SAID STOP CALLING HER THAT!" Yoongi bellows, kicking his chair out from beneath him as he stands.

His grandmother leans back in her chair, her lips pursing while her eyes narrow.

"I have already drawn up divorce papers! I will file them! I will kick Sera out on her money grubbing ass! Y/N, is not leaving my side for a fucking second! She's my family! Unlike everyone else that's been around me since my childhood! She's not going anywhere!" he says, downing the rest of his whisky and slamming the glass back down onto the desk.

"Then you will lose your position as CEO," his grandmother says simply.

You open your mouth to refuse but Yoongi speaks first.

"You can try it. You can take it to the shareholders and request it but they know since I've been put in charge that our sales have gone up forty five percent. They know that I was able to pay them hundreds of thousands of dollars more for their holiday bonuses than any of the CEOs before me. They know that I get shit done. You wanted an heir and you fucking got one. Now you're not happy?! You're a hypocrite!" he scoffs, running his fingers through his hair.

"Little dove, go wait for me downstairs," he whispers, cupping your cheek.

"Stay where you are," his grandmother instructs and you're caught between the both of them.

Yoongi rounds your chair, pressing his hand to your growing belly. "There is no one in the world that is going to take my fucking family away from me. My baby, my heir -- means the world to me. This woman, this beautiful woman sitting in this chair -- has brought me more peace than should be allowed in one man's life. There is nothing you can do to me that will make me change my fucking mind." he seethes through his teeth.

His grandmother hums inquisitively, tapping her fingernails to the desk once more. "So what do you plan to do then?"

He starts to cool down, his boiling blood beginning to soothe. "I'm going to divorce Sera."

"When?" his grandmother prompts, putting her manicured hand beneath her chin.

"When I feel the time is right," he says confidently.

"Before the baby is born?" she inquires, raising an eyebrow and looking at your stomach.

"Yes." he breathes out.

"What's the gender?" his grandmother inquires.

"We don't know yet, we're finding out tomorrow."

"You better hope it's a boy." she murmurs, already bored of this tit for tat.

"I'll be happy with whatever Y/N gives me." he replies truthfully.

"We did not raise you this way, Yoongi. We raised you-"

"You didn't raise me. Maya did. My father burnt holes into my chest to try to teach me how to be a person and he learned that from your husband," Yoongi quips.

You close your eyes, feeling a headache already coming on.

"Oh my God," you whisper under your breath.

"And you, Y/N, what is your take on all of this?" his grandmother asks.

You're completely at odds, you've never dealt with anything like this in your life.

"Leave her out of thi-"

"I was not talking to you, Yoongi!"

He sighs softly, pressing his thumb and pinky finger to either temple.

So for once you just let everything go. "Mrs. Min, I'm very sorry if I've brought chaos into this house because of me being pregnant. But, I love your grandson very much. I know I'm not the perfect choice for a CEO but I've been working very hard to learn about what a woman has to do to take care of things on her end. I'm very happy to be with Yoongi and so happy we get to have a family together. I might not be like Sera, I might not come from money but I've never wanted Yoongi's money at all. I just want my baby to be loved and taken care of."

Yoongi runs his hands over his face, this is why he adores you. You're such a good girl.

"Oh dear lord, you're too sweet to even be angry at," his grandmother scoffs.

You can practically see the cogs turning in her head. Your boyfriend runs his thumb comfortingly over your bump but you're still nervous. The power this woman exudes could bring civilizations down.

"Well, what are your skills? You have to bring something to this family." she determines.

Your mouth opens to reply, is she accepting you?

"She's a wonderful painter!" Yoongi says quickly.

Min Seyoung tilts her head, running her hand over her long ponytail. "Show me." she orders.

He stands up straight within a second, fixing his suit jacket. "By all means," he replies, opening the office door for her.

You begin to frown, you don't show your paintings to anyone. It's just a hobby!

"I mean, they're okay they're not-"

"Van Gogh would adore them!" Yoongi compliments, watching his grandmother walk out first.

You sigh gently, earning eyes from your boyfriend. "It's okay, baby!" he mouths, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand reluctantly, standing up slowly from the chair.

"Easy, little dove." he whispers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his grandmother watching you both and it makes your legs shake out of nervousness once more.

"Her art studio is just on the second floor," Yoongi says, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

Min Seyoung hums, folding her arm beneath the other as she combs her fingers through her long black hair.

There is awkward silence while you walk down the stairs, your eyes lingering on the deadbolted room that first brought you and Yoongi together.

"It's just next to the nursery!" Yoongi says.

"I have to tell you Y/N. I take art very seriously." Yoongi's grandmother informs you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, knowing she's just trying to make you nervous.

"You're going to be impressed," he promises.

She hums nonchalantly as you all stop in front of the art studio.

Your palms become sweaty, head swimming and you greedily chug the strawberry water to cool yourself down.

When the door is swung open, you bite on your bottom lip nervously.

Your done paintings line the east wall of the room while your unfinished ones line the west.

You've missed being in here, the faint smell of paint and paint thinner make you relax.

Seyoung folds her hands behind her back as she wades through the room. Her eyes narrow at your paintings and your breath catches in your throat.

"I-It's just a hobby… So…" you find yourself explaining.

"They're beautiful, baby." your boyfriend insists in your ear.

"Well," Seyoung says, tilting her head at the bird hanging from a bird feeder painting, "you do have skill."

Yoongi sighs gratefully, his shoulders straighten up and he kisses your temple softly.

"Why aren't these in art galleries?" his grandmother inquires.

Whoa. That's a big compliment.

She turns to you, head tilting and expecting an answer.

Yoongi steps away, a proud smile spreading over his face.

"Well… It's always just been a hobby. I've never put any stake into it."

"Pretty and humble and sweet?" Seyoung murmurs, raising an eyebrow and looking at her grandson.

He beams at her, sending her the happiest smile he can muster.

"No wonder Yoongi is so fond of you."

You can feel your skin blushing as the corners of her lips finally quirk up.

When she turns back to the paintings, she points at one of the black and grey paintings you've made.

"Is this an ultrasound of your baby?" she asks, leaning forward to inspect it.

"Yes, it's one of three." you reply, smirking as Yoongi runs his hands over your arms excitedly.

"I'd like to have it. To put in my office." she says, turning back to the both of you.

You find yourself smiling, nodding to her statement. "Of course, it's your great grandchild after all!"

She hums humorously. "So it would seem."

Yoongi takes it down from the wall carefully, his eyes enraptured with the painting.

"You'll be a good mother." Seyoung determines, folding her arms.

As Yoongi wraps the painting in bubble wrap, you can feel his grandmother's eyes on you. "Let me suggest something to you both since you seem so intent on keeping one another."

"Please, by all means," Yoongi replies.

"Make it easier for yourselves. Make Myeyoung put Y/N's paintings in her gallery. Set up a contract with Y/N for the new mall, have her make some artwork for it since we don't have any art yet. Get Y/N's name out there so when you do get your divorce from Sera, she won't just be a poor girl that got pregnant on a whim." his grandmother insists.

Yoongi looks up slowly from the painting, his eyes widening.

"You want Y/N to make the art for the Gangnam mall?" he asks, surprised.

"Do as I say Yoongi."

"Yes, grandmother! Right away!" he bubbles excitedly.

Your mouth opens in shock, your hand sliding over it with widening eyes.

"Bring it down to the car, I have a dinner meeting. Y/N, I'll be seeing you soon I'm sure. Yoongi, try not to stir up too much drama for the family name." Seyoung orders, running her hand over your stomach as she exits the art studio.

When the baby kicks beneath her hand, you catch her gentle smirk before she's off down the hallway. "Tell me tomorrow if it's a boy or not."

"Holy shit," your boyfriend breathes, chasing after her with the wrapped painting.

Standing alone in the art studio, you find yourself starting to laugh, hands combing through your hair in shock.

"Grandmother, thank you!" Yoongi whines, finally catching up with her in the museum wing.

When she turns to him, her eyes soften completely. "You're right, you deserve this. Now do it the right way or don't do it at all." she says, taking the painting from him.

He bows to her deeply, "Yes, grandmother. Of course."

"Is Sera really that bad?" she asks, opening the front door.

"Yes," he gasps.

"Well, better to be rid of her then." she surmises, walking out to her car.

Yoongi leans against the doorway, watching as she climbs into the car. If his grandmother somewhat approves, half the battle is fought already. He sighs happily, running his hands over his face.

"Yes!" he whispers fiercely, shaking his fist and slamming the door shut.

It didn't take long for Yoongi to find you, he knew exactly where you'd be. He smirks at the sight before him, you laying down in your bed, hand on your stomach.

"Hi, beautiful." he whispers, kicking off his shoes.

You look up as you hear his voice, a smile spreading over your face.

"I missed this bed," you mumble.

He hums, kneeling at the end of the bed.

You look gorgeous, hair splayed out over your pillow. He finds something tugging at his heart this evening. Something full of burning passion.

"You said you love me," he avows, bending down to kiss you.

"You said it first," you quip, cupping his cheek as he kisses you languidly.

"Because I mean it," he breathes out.

"So do I," you reply.

His hands grab at your hips, teeth tugging on your bottom lip sensuously enough that your pussy clenches around nothingness.

You whimper against his lips, the sound sending arousal flooding through his bones.

"Fuck," he curses, lifting you up.

When you're sitting up comfortably, his fingers pull down the zipper on the back of your dress. His warm hand spreads over the skin of your back.

"I want you around me," he whispers wantonly, rutting his hardening cock against your stomach.

"Daddy," you beg against his lips, feeling your arousal drip onto your panties.

"Get this fucking dress off," he orders and you're quick to do his bidding.

Standing tall before him, you shrug the dress off. He groans gently at your half naked body, his hands greedily grab at your sides to pull you between his parted legs.

His lips kiss at the curve of your swollen breasts, suckling small red petals to your skin marking you as his. You whimper loudly as he snaps his fingers to the clasp of your bra, your breasts bouncing free with a sigh.

"Look at you," he mumbles reverently, peeling the lace away from your skin.

He sighs happily, eyes looking up at you as he trails his lips over your ever heating skin.

"You're beautiful, little dove," he praises, running his hands over your back to the globes of your ass and palming the skin roughly.

You gasp his name loudly, head lolling back. His lips encircle your stiffening nipple, tugging on it sensually.

When he suckles your sensitive skin, your body shudders in his grasp.

"D-Daddy!" you whine, your fingers carding through his black hair.

He hums against you, his tongue quickly flicking at your nipple.

When he suckles once more, you gasp loudly, eyes rolling back. He can taste something creamy on his tongue, and he groans loudly, pulling you closer to his body.

"Fuck, your milk is here," he whispers, cupping your forsaken breast. His fingertips pinch and roll at your nipple, his breath becoming short and caught in his throat as he feels small droplets of milk land on the back of his hand.

"Oh, little dove." he groans.

With blurry, lust filled eyes, you begin to unbutton his shirt.

His hand leaves your ass to cup your stomach, his cock throbbing painfully hard through his suit pants.

Shoving off his shirt and suit jacket, he forsakes your breasts all together. Kissing over your protruding belly, he unbuttons his pants with feral need.

"God, you're incredible." he breathes out, tugging down his pants.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth as his cock is freed. The long length is throbbing, the mushroom tip red with needy desires.

His fingers enmesh into the sides of your underwear, he tugs them harshly, the lace turning into mere strings within his grasp.

"Fuck, you're soaked. You little cock slut," he seethes through his teeth, spreading your legs to get a better view.

Strands of arousal cling to your inner thighs and you whimper as he drags his fingertips along your sodden lips.

"Daddy, fuck." you whimper, eyes squeezing shut.

"Come here," he commands, running his thumb over your cheek.

He wraps you in a passionate kiss, his tongue rough against yours.

"Sit on my cock," he whispers against your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

His fingers rub smooth circles on your clit, your thighs locking as pleasure begins to course through you.

Turning around, your bottom lip purchases between your teeth. Yoongi takes his time, running his hands over your warm flesh. His hands grope at the globes of your ass, kissing over your shoulder as you begin to sit down.

He curses gently, eyes raking over your back.

He can’t begin to understand why he was just so against having sex with you a few months ago. Now, he just can’t control himself. He needs to be in you, around you, on you all the time. Maybe it’s because he loves you more than a single person in their lifetime should -- or maybe it’s because the bond between you, his pregnant girlfriend, and him is just so strong with his child within you.

Gripping the base of his cock, he watches with wondrous eyes as you part your legs over his. Your sodden cunt glides over his length and he curses so softly, it seems to vibrate through you.

"Don't tease, little dove." he commands, but it comes out like a whine.

You steady your hands on his knees, slowly sliding down onto his cock.

The moan he emits, so raw and animalistic sends your body shaking with anticipation.

He's never made love to a woman before you, and now he can't get enough. He enjoys how your breath stutters when he praises you, he adores how tense your body gets as he gives you his pleasure. Everything about you is his -- and it's perfect.

You whimper loudly as he stretches you, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. When his hands palm your breasts, you can feel your pussy quivering and clenching around him.

"I can't believe you're producing milk already, you're such a good mother, hmm?" he whispers in your ear, lips trailing over the shell.

"Y-Yes Daddy," you whimper in reply.

His fingers pinch and roll your nipples gently, the action sending your head lolling back to his shoulder. You grind your hips down on him, adoring how he begins to breathe heavier in your ear.

"God, your pussy is so warm, baby. So fucking wet," he seethes through his teeth.

When you lift up on shaky legs, one of his hands leaves your breast to cup your stomach.

"Daddy, your cock feels so good." you murmur.

"Show me how much you love my cock," he begs, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth.

You begin a steady pace, bouncing on his cock with gritted teeth and starry eyes.

"Oh fuck, there you go, little dove. Making my cock feel so fucking good, baby girl." he breathes out, suckling his marks to the column of your neck.

When you whimper his name, he feels as if he could explode on the spot.

"Your belly feels so nice and big in my hands, little dove." he praises, eyes fluttering shut.

"Y-Yeah? It feels good?" you ask, your voice turning into a whine as you bounce faster on his cock.

"So good, baby. Feels so fucking good." he replies, rubbing circles sensuously on your stomach.

The sound of your wetness echoes throughout the room and you can barely hold yourself together as white hot pleasure courses through you.

"Who does this pregnant pussy belong to? Hmm? Tell me," your boyfriend goads, pinching roughly at your nipple and growling as milk droplets coat his honey skin.

"My pussy belongs to you! I belong to you!" you cry out, swiveling your hips.

"Christ! That's right, little dove. You belong to me!" he seethes, running his hand from your breast to the apex of your thighs.

Your moans become louder as he begins to rub circles to your clit, your mind becoming hazy and foggy with lust.

"God, your cunt is so fucking messy, little dove. You love my cock that much? Your filthy slut of a cunt can't handle my big cock, you're creaming all over me." he moans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder.

He can feel your body tensing and stuttering on top of him, he knows you're becoming tired. His hands grip at your hips, flipping you over easily. You gasp loudly, grabbing onto the edge of the bed.

"Fuck, you like it when Daddy manhandles you like the little whore you are?" he asks, gripping the back of your neck for leverage.

He pounds into you like a man possessed, something animalistic taking over him.

"Yes! Feels so fucking good!" you cry out.

Running his tongue over his lips, he can feel your pussy begin to clench around him. You're close.

He cups your stomach, holding you steady as he fucks into you harder. The quickness knocks the oxygen from your lungs and you can only babble a semblance of his name.

"God! You're incredible!" he whines, throwing his head back.

When he lets go of your neck to spank your ass, you can feel your orgasm approaching like a windstorm.

"D-Daddy! Cumming!" you cry out.

He moans loudly, his balls beginning to tighten as your arousal drips down his thighs. "Fucking hold it." he instructs.

You sob loudly, pressing your face into the mattress. He spanks you roughly, the sight of his handprint smarting on your skin heightens his pleasure. He can hear your small mewls and whines as you bury your face deeper into the bed.

When he rubs your clit, feeling how hot and throbbing it is, his eyes roll back. "God, your clit is so swollen, you little slut."

"Daddy!" you beg, white knuckling the sheets in your hands.

"Cum." he commands and you fall undone with that simple word.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears, emitting sobs of pleasure into the sheets.

He curses loudly, gripping at your hips. He begins to drive himself home within you, adoring how you squeal and beg for more beneath him.

"Pregnant little slut beneath me. Letting me defile her dirty pussy with my child inside her. What does that say about you, baby?"

Sluggishly raising your head, you whimper. "I'm your little pregnant slut."

He curses loudly, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

"You're my little slut, hmm?" he prods, thrusting back into you with unrivaled quickness. Your nails claw at his arms, nodding with a whimper.

He wraps your legs around his waist, pounding into you with everything he has.

You watch with loving eyes as his black hair sticks to his face, how he looks down at you like you put all of the stars in the sky just for him.

His hands rub at your stomach, bottom lip tucking into his mouth.

"Why're you my little slut? Cause you like my big cock fucking your cunt open? Is that it? You like how I split your pregnant pussy open like this?" he asks, pinching at your leaking nipple.

"Because I-I love you!" you cry, running your hands over his chest.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, the words sending him into a sensory overload.

"Fuck, I love you too, little dove. I love you so much baby, it fucking hurts me!" he mumbles, feeling his cock begin to twitch and throb within you once more.

"God, you're so beautiful," he praises, finding himself coming to an end.

You gasp loudly when he palms your swollen breasts once more, how absolutely gentle he is.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby." he whispers.

Your pussy clenches around him again and he knows you're close to your second orgasm. He wills himself to wait, dying to feel your release just one more time.

Your thighs lock around him, quivering and shaking.

"You're close, huh beautiful? You want to cum on my big cock again? Want me to feel how much you love me?" he asks, running his thumbs over your continuously leaking nipples.

You nod incessantly, back arching off of the bed. "Gonna cum again for you Daddy, you make my pussy feel so good!"

"Good girl," he praises.

He lifts your hips higher, the head of his cock dragging against the sweet spot inside of you with each thrust.

You scream his name in ecstacy, your eyes squeezing shut as he curses.

"Daddy!" you warn loudly, grabbing onto the sheets beside you.

"Fuck yes, hold your belly and cum for me!" he instructs, fucking deeper into you with every stroke.

You do as told, holding the weight of your stomach in your hands.

"Cum," he seethes through gritted teeth and you see stars.

Your cum squirts onto his thighs, your body shaking and whimpering.

"Fuck! Good girl, little dove! I'm cumming!" your boyfriend moans loudly.

You gasp loudly, feeling his warm cum paint your cervix. He breathes raggedly above you, hands running through his sweat soaked hair.

"Jesus Christ," he gasps, his throat tight and dry.

You whimper when he pulls out of you, your bottom lip tucks between your teeth.

"I fucking love you," he whispers, watching how his cum begins to cream from your swollen cunt.

"I love you too," you breathe out.

He hums gently, minding your stomach as he bends down for a kiss. His lips are soft and loving against yours.

"So you're going to be a super famous artist now? I get to live with one of the greatest forward thinking, artistic minds?" he quips, pulling you into his arms.

"What? That's Leonardo Da Vinci. Do I look like a Leonardo to you?" you retort with a laugh, curling into his side.

"Maybe… Although you look more like a Donatello to me."

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Well you're a smartass," he gripes, slapping your backside gently.

"You're lucky I love you," you mumble, pressing your face into his chest.

He shivers as you kiss over his small tattoos, eyes fluttering shut gratefully. "Not as much as I love you." he whispers, running his hand over your back gently.

"This is the start to something good, little dove. I can feel it." Yoongi declares, kissing the top of your head.

Once the ball is rolling, there's very few things that can stop it. And Yoongi intends for it to roll all the way to divorce court.’

Next Chapter ----> 

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi​, @eltrain80​, @btsmylife21​, @deeepvibes​, @httpminyg​, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​, @preciouschimine​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​, @kooafraid​, @ladykadyrova​, @singjisu​, @yazanii​, @moonlitmyg​, @justzeera​, @absolutefantrash​, @whocaresarchives​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​, @bt21chim​, @flowerboyhobi​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​

I’m sorry for those it didn’t tag, even some that have always been able to tag just didn’t today and I don’t understand why!

#third wheeling #btscreatorscorner #thebt #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #ceo!au #ceo!yoongi #yoongi smut #dom!yoongi #pregnant smut

[starfinss]

Wingman — Akaashi Keiji

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Summary: Bokuto heard you like Akaashi and decides to be your wingman. It goes about as well as it sounds.

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Rating: Fluff, humor (SFW)

Word Count: 1,779

“Do you like Akaashi?”

You choked on your rice at Bokuto’s sudden question, sending you into a violent coughing fit as you pounded on your chest in an attempt to clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, what?!” You said once you could speak, taking a large swallow of water from your bottle.

Bokuto looked blankly at you, owlishly, which was sort of his default expression. “I asked if you liked Akaashi.”

You sent a glance to Yukie, who seemed to be trying her best to look innocent.

“Who,” you said pointedly, and you watched Yukie’s facade break, just a smidge, “told you something like that?”

Bokuto inclined his head in said girl’s direction. “Her.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yukie, I told you not to tell anyone. And you told him of all people?”

A pause, then offense flashed across Bokuto’s face. “Hey!”

Yukie made a pained noise. “I’m sorry! It kind of just… slipped out. We were talking about how Akaashi never seems to date anyone, and I remembered what you told me and I just… I couldn’t stop talking!”

“No offense, Yukie, but Bokuto isn’t the best at keeping secrets.”

“Hey hey, I can keep secrets!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, hands flattened against your temples.

“Okay, prove it by keeping this one. I haven’t told Akaashi because I’ve never seen him ever show me any sign that he feels the same.”

Bokuto took a large bite of his sandwich. “Just tell ‘im anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting. And I dunno, he could reject me?”

Bokuto swallowed loudly, a splitting grin growing on his face.

“Well, what about this, (L/N). How about I be your wingman? Ey?”

Your mind flooded with all the ways that idea could go wrong, and the bad outweighed the good.

“No. No, Bokuto—“

“Come on, (L/N), let me help! I know Akaashi better than anyone, we’re best friends! I wanna do this for you, come on, let me!”

Bokuto was relentless on and off the court, and he was hard to argue with. He did know Akaashi the best, you’d give him that, even while you were friends with the quiet setter as well. Being team manager with Yukie really did have its perks.

And Akaashi really was too pretty for his own good.

You could benefit from Bokuto’s help, even if something would undoubtedly go terribly wrong in the process.

“Fine,” you relented, resulting in loud cheers, the sounds drawing the attention of the people eating lunch around you.

You exchanged a weary look with Yukie.

“I hate you,” you said, and she smiled.

“I know.”

Your eyes flicked back to Bokuto, who was bouncing in his seat.

“I have a plan.”

You put another bite of rice in your mouth. If this was going to be as insane as you thought it was going to be, you’d need a full stomach.

“Tell me.”

————————

Bokuto’s plan was horrible.

The first one he gave you involved you just walking up and kissing Akaashi, but your use of some choice language in response to that made Bokuto change tactics.

“Go into a closet—“

“No.”

“I could lock—“

“Bo!”

He groaned. “Let me talk!”

“Then stop giving me plans that could result in me being utterly humiliated!”

“Fine! Then try this. Just get him alone after practice and ask him to walk you home.”

You frowned. “We do that every day anyway. We live two houses apart.”

“Toss him some sets!”

Yukie made a frustrated noise. “I’m going to lock you in the club room.”

You gave her a fearful look. “Me?”

“No. Bokuto. But maybe you if we can’t come up with something.”

You closed your now empty lunch box. “So you’re in on this too, now?”

She grinned. “I’ve always been in on this.”

Anger simmered in the pit of your stomach. “Did you tell him on purpose?”

“What?” Yukie said, then paled. “No. That really was an accident. All I’m saying is I support you.”

“Well,” you sighed, “that’s something, I guess.”

“Lock you in the club room!” Bokuto cried, and the expression on his face coupled with the triumphant tone in his voice made it seem very much like he’d struck gold.

You paused. “What?”

“I was joking, Bo,” said Yukie.

“No, but it could work!”

It could. But you were pretty sure Akaashi had a key, so it would be kind of useless to put him in a situation he could easily get out of. And, to further this, you also had a key. Bokuto pouted when you relayed this to him.

“Come on, (L/N), let me be your wingman!”

You rolled your eyes. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? All you’re giving me is stuff like ‘lock yourself in a closet.’”

“It could work!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, and you stood up, stretching your arms above your head.

“I’ll see you guys at practice,” you said, “text me if you get any new ideas.”

————————

Practice was somewhat of a nightmare. Of course, it went as well as it usually did, the gym full of Bokuto’s victorious shouts and Akaashi and the other club member’s sarcastic quips. But that wasn’t the problem. Every time something needed to be fetched or the water needed to be refilled, either Yukie or Bokuto, usually with matching grins, suggested you go with Akaashi. Akaashi, of course, shut this down fairly quickly since he had no need to assist you with such menial tasks.

But Bokuto didn’t stop there, no. It was too much to hope a hurricane would stop in its path.

Because during a break, Akaashi approached you.

“Is there any reason why Bokuto is constantly asking me to compliment you?”  He said as he dried his face with a towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows, dread sinking into the pit of your stomach. “He’s doing what?!”

“Asking me to-“

“No, I heard you. I just can’t believe he’s doing that.”

Akaashi blinked, oblivious to the situation. “Is there a problem, (L/N)?”

You sighed. “Yeah. No, I don’t know. This is a mess.”

From what Akaashi told you, Bokuto had started showering you with random compliments, then asked Akaashi if he agreed.

“I just want to know why he’s doing that. Do you think he has a crush on you?”

You shook your head. “No. This is… It’s something else. I don’t really want to talk about it, sorry Akaashi.”

He looked worried all of a sudden. “Is there something wrong?”

Your eyes went wide. “No! I’m fine, really. I just— I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Bokuto said, strolling over, and you deflated, “do you not trust him?”

“Bo,” you warned, speaking between gritted teeth, “not. Now.”

“Isn’t this what winging is?”

Akaashi looked deeply confused. “Winging? What is that supposed to mean? Did you make up a word for spiking?”

Bokuto seemed affronted. “No! I’m her… Her man wing—“

“It’s called wingman, Bo,” you muttered.

He was going to give you away.

“Tell him, (L/N), he thinks you’re pretty, smart-“

Akaashi blinked. “You asked me what I thought about that, Bokuto.”

Bokuto faked shock. “So you don’t really think those things?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

Bokuto gave a squawk you could only assume was a cry of victory. “See? See, (L/N) Akaashi thinks you’re pretty! You gotta tell him, tell him now!”

You looked at Bokuto with pure murder in your eyes, and he seemed to falter.

“Tell me what?!”

“Akaashi!” You cried, “talk to me outside, would you?”

You looked sharply at Bokuto.

You buried your head in your hands once you were outside. “ I might as well just come out and say it, because we both know Bokuto isn’t about to quit. That massive meathead is trying to be my wingman because he found out I like you today.”

You sent Yukie a murderous look as she passed the open door, raising your voice a bit as you spoke. “Because someone told him.”

She looked sheepish.

You closed the door, only breaking eye contact with her when you couldn’t keep in anymore due to the new barrier between you.

“Well, that’s fine,” Akaashi said, “I like you, too.”

You worried your lip between your teeth. “I understand if— Wait what?”

Akaashi looked at you blankly. “I like you too, (L/N).”

You were at a loss for words. “You never gave me any signs that you liked me too.”

Akaashi leaned against the door. “I walk you home every night.”

You frowned. “We’re literally neighbors.”

“That’s beside the point. Why do you think I bring you breakfast to eat while we walk to school?”

You blushed. “I thought you were being nice.”

“No,” Akaashi stepped forward, letting his hands fall to your shoulders, “no, (L/N). I like you. You’re an incredible person, and I thought I was making myself clear with my advances.”

Well, you decided, you were a dumbass.

“Wanna… Go get something to eat sometime?” You asked, voice quiet, and Akaashi nodded.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you, and you swear you forgot how to breathe, that you forgot your own name. You sighed softly, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. Akaashi was an intense young man, and kissing him, even if it was simple and innocent, was just as intense. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist with a heartbreaking tenderness, nose brushing yours as his lips pressed and ghosted against your own.

It was cold outside, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were so soft and gentle.

The door opened abruptly and you heard a shout that could only have belonged to Bokuto. You felt Akaashi smile against your mouth before he pulled back.

“I am the best wingman!” He cried, “Hey, hey, hey!”

You laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially when Akaashi was still holding you so close.

“You are, Bo,” you confirmed, resulting in more cheering.

“Akaashi got a girlfriend!” He shouted as he ran inside, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that what you want to be?” Akaashi asked, and you nodded.

“Yes.” You were unable to hide your grin.

“Then it’s official.” Akaashi kissed your nose, then stepped back.

“I will hold your hand when we walk home.”

You blushed at his bluntness. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Nice pun!” You heard Yukie shout, and you groaned.

“I hate both of you!”

You didn’t. But the smile that ghosted Akaashi’s lips as you said the words was worth it.

So was the burning kiss he gave you after practice, and the feeling of his hand in yours as you walked home.

Maybe having Bokuto’s help, as disastrous as it had been, wasn’t so bad after all.

#akaashi fluff #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!! #hq #told you to expect this #fluff #I should make a masterlist #hq x reader #kotarou bokuto #shirofuku yukie #Wingman #I decided that Bokuto would either be an amazing wingman or a terrible one #we went somewhere in the middle #he got the job done #akaashi x reader #My writing #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader

[smells-like-mettaton]

thick fog and papyrus? srsly tho what is up with his battle room lmao

Worth Fighting For

Rating: G Word Count: 1535 Read on AO3: here

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“Are you sure you want to do this, brother?” Papyrus asked, even though he knew what the answer would be. Sans was the most stubborn monster Papyrus knew.

Sans would probably say the same about him. Their collective stubbornness led to month-long face offs over a discarded sock. Or to Papyrus cooking spaghetti three times a day, waiting for Sans to crack and tell him what was wrong with it.

Or to them standing at the edge of town, shrouded in thick fog.

“I’m sure.” Sans’s voice felt almost muffled by the mist.

That was part of the point. Anyone could train when they could hear and see their opponent. It would take a skilled fighter to battle under these conditions.

And Sans wanted to be skilled. Papyrus could hardly deny him that, after all the time he’d begged to train under Undyne.

“Right.” Papyrus gave a sharp nod, though Sans probably couldn’t see it. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you, br—”

A bone collided with his exposed spine. He yelped, though it was more from surprise than pain.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Through a gap in the fog, Papyrus caught his brother winking.

“Sans! That move is unsportsmanlike!” Papyrus rubbed his vertebrae. Of course, Sans could hardly injure him. Each of his attacks only shaved off one point of damage.

“Good thing fighting’s not a sport, huh?”

“Fighting is more than a sport! It is a way to express the hopes and dreams of your soul!!”

Sans sighed, disturbing the fog enough for Papyrus to see him again.

“Look, bro. I just want to be able to keep myself from getting dusted. I’ll save the dreams for when I’m sleeping.”

Papyrus’s brow pinched. Listening to Sans talk, you would think he never wanted to fight. But he did. Papyrus could see it in the darkness of his eyesockets, in the way his jaw set whenever something upset him.

Something had made Sans angry. Maybe even… frightened. None of Papyrus’s attempts to draw the truth from him succeeded, however.

Papyrus wanted to help Sans channel that anger into something more productive. Fighting could be productive! It could bring monsters together in ways nothing else could! But… not the way Sans went about it.

Maybe Papyrus just needed to show him.

A row of bones—carefully calibrated not to do damage—sprouted from the ground towards Sans. Papyrus couldn’t see him dodge, but he didn’t hear the telltale crack of bone on bone.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t go easy on me.”

A beam of light shot through the fog, and Papyrus sidestepped, his boots crunching in the thick snow. Several more beams followed it, but the pattern was easy to predict. The few times when Papyrus failed to dodge, the lasers barely tickled.

A muttered curse came from his left. Papyrus turned towards it, but didn’t ready another attack.

“Starting with your strongest attack is—”

“Bad sportsmanship?” Sans snapped.

“No. It’s just bad strategy.” Papyrus approached the sound of his voice. He bumped into a few of Sans’s blasters on the way and gave each of them a quick pet. “It’s safer to let your opponent underestimate you. Once you have them lulled into a false sense of security, you can secure your victory!”

“I don’t have time for that kind of strategy!” Sans sounded even angrier than Papyrus had expected. Maybe Papyrus was the one doing the underestimating. “I’m not like you! I don’t have hundreds of HP to spare! I’ve got one shot, and if I can’t—if I can’t win, then I’m…”

Papyrus’s eyesockets widened at Sans’s muffled sob.

“Oh, Sans.” He knelt down by his brother, feeling him rather than seeing him. He wrapped him in the tightest hug he could. Sans slumped in his arms, like all the fight had gone out of him.

“No one is going to hurt you. I promise,” Papyrus murmured. “I’ll protect you, brother.”

Sans tensed, and the moment shattered.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Sans pushed him back. His eyesockets had gone pitch black, two empty holes in the sea of white. “I’m—I was always supposed to take care of you, and I can’t—if I can’t stop the…”

Papyrus didn’t know what he was talking about, but expecting answers from Sans was like expecting Undyne to go a month without burning down her house. It wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, ignoring the hurt that Sans’s shove had caused. Hurt that went deeper than any bone attack or laser.

Perhaps he deserved it. Even if he didn’t know everything, he knew he had messed up.

“You’re right,” Papyrus admitted, making Sans’s head tilt in confusion. “I want you to be strong and great, too! In fact, you're already very strong and great! But we’re safe here, brother. Undyne and the Royal Guard will protect us when a human comes.”

He didn’t bother saying that he would be joining the Royal Guard. It was a matter of when at this point, surely. But the thought wouldn’t comfort Sans at the moment.

“‘M not worried about humans,” he muttered.

“Then… what are you worried about?”

Silence. Like the fog had stolen away even the slight sound of Sans’s rattling bones.

“...Doesn’t matter.” Sans’s eyesockets closed. “Forget it.”

For once, Papyrus decided to face his brother head-on. The way Undyne would.

“I cannot just forget something that is bothering you, brother.”

“Heh. We already have, though. Over and over and over again…”

“Then this time, we should help each other remember!” Papyrus reached out and felt for Sans’s shoulder, then gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Nah. Too much effort.”

Papyrus felt Sans shrug. Annoyance bubbled up in him, but he forced himself to let it go. He should’ve known better than to expect Sans to face his problems head-on. He wasn’t Undyne.

Papyrus blinked. “You’re not Undyne.”

Sans’s sockets cracked open in a confused squint. “Uh, yeah? Did I hit you too hard earlier?”

“No!” He shook his head quickly. “I mean! You don’t have the stats that Undyne and I do!”

“You don’t gotta rub it in.”

“Ugh, brother!” Papyrus sprung to his feet, his hands on his hips. “I’m trying to say, we need to train you differently! I’ve been doing this all wrong!”

“Nah, I’ve just been making it hard on you.” Sans sounded guilty. “Sorry. I’m not a real good student.”

“False! I simply need to recalibrate your curriculum! Nyeh heh heh!!”

A short time later, they again faced off in the dense fog. But this time, Papyrus encouraged Sans to use every underhanded trick in his arsenal.

“Don’t forget your shortcuts!” Papyrus called into the white void as he hurled another wave of bones.

“No good,” Sans huffed, presumably while dodging. “Can’t use ‘em... while anyone’s looking. Magic’s weird... like that.”

“Well, I cannot look with all this fog in the way! And whoever has a bone to pick with you will surely blink at one point or another!”

“...Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

And he did. Lasers blasted at Papyrus again. Blue attacks mixed with regular attacks mixed blue soul magic mixed with strange platforms that Papyrus discovered he could jump on without being harmed.

Until the platforms slid out from under him, dropping him into a spike-trap of bone attacks.

“Clever!” Papyrus called out, escaping with a blue magic-assisted leap. With that many attacks at once, his HP had actually taken a dent. “I bet you could create a maze with those! Any enemy would surely be confounded, then blasted to their senses!”

“Huh, that’s not a bad idea…”

Eventually Papyrus announced the end of the training session. He may have an abundance of HP, but Sans had kept him on his toes during the entire sparring match. There had been no time to sneak a bite of his cinnamon bun.

“So how’d I do? Think I’ll be joining you in the Guard any time soon?” Sans winked as they strode out of the fog.

“You want to join the Guard too?” Papyrus beamed until Sans looked away awkwardly.

“Nah, that was just a dumb joke. I’ve got enough to look out for with bein’ a sentry.”

Papyrus’s eyes narrowed. That was a pun, but at least it was of better quality than usual.

“Very well! It’s important to know your limits! If only so you can more effectively push them! Nyeh heh heh!” He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “And you certainly did so today! I’m very proud of you, brother.”

Sans’s head snapped up, his eyelights glowing brighter than Papyrus had seen in ages. He quickly schooled his expression into something less expressive, though.

“Geez, bro, all this sweet talk’s gonna go to my head.” He rapped on the side of his skull.

“Good! You need something to fill up all that empty space!”

Sans laughed out loud at that. “Thanks.”

Papyrus knew he wasn’t being thanked for the joke. Still, he played along.

“Of course! That’s what brothers are for!”

As long as Papyrus was around, Sans would never have to fight. But if Sans could feel more confident in himself…

That was something worth fighting for.

#fic tag #papyrus #sans #skelebros #tali writes #prompt requests #this was a fun one to do characterization wise

[farfromharry]

The one with homecoming | Peter’s girl

Summary: You accompany Mj to homecoming when Peter decides to go with Liz, but eventually end up comforting Peter after he gets into a large fight as Spiderman

Word count - 2,600

warnings - mentions of injuries, maybe some language?

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Homecoming was fastly approaching, and after the year you and your friends had had, you were more than excited. You were hoping that you and Mj could go together, as friends of course, no boys that would only serve to ruin your night with how irritating they were; yes, that included Ned and Peter.

“What if I asked Peter to Homecoming?” she said abruptly, breaking the comfortable silence you’d been in while eating together. You nearly choked on your food for multiple reasons. One, that was a very bold thing to do for Mj, and two, you really didn’t want her to go with Peter. She stared at you with wide eyes while you took a swig of your water to cool your burning throat, expecting some kind of explanation for that reaction.

“No, no boys,” you whined, hand reaching over to link your fingers with Mj’s across the table. “Let’s just go together.” She ignored the evident pleading and excitement in your eyes, the girl telling you that she really wanted to try her luck with Peter, finally find out if he likes her back. You were convinced your heart could have shattered right there, but you instead plastered a playful pout on your lips instead, showing your disapproval of the idea. “Still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you murmured, moreso under your breath so she wouldn’t hear you, retracting your hand from hers rather defeatedly.

“What was that?”

You opened your mouth to stutter out a response when you were thankfully saved by the bell, though not the actual bell, in this case it was a frantic and flustered looking Peter Parker. You and Mj shared a look of simultaneous confusion, watching as the boy took a seat opposite you, seeming quite out of breath.

“I need your help,” he said, trying to take a second to catch his breath before he explained what was going on.

“Why?” Mj asked, looking quite unimpressed that he’d interrupted your conversation, even if it was actually about him and her feelings for said boy. He took a deep breath, looking at you both with a tight lipped, nearsay awkward, smile.

“I just asked Liz to Homecoming.” For the second time in the span of such little time, you choked on your food, finding Peter’s words very difficult to believe. You stared at him with wide eyes, trying to figure out how this incredible socially awkward boy could ever ask the gorgeous, social butterfly of the school to a very crowded school event.

Mj could physically feel her heart sink and she nearly felt sick. However, like always she hid behind that same face of uninterest, feigning the idea that those words didn’t stab into her chest everytime they repeated over and over in her head.

“That’s amazing Pete, but I don’t know how we can help?” you said. You’d hoped the words would discourage him enough that he’d go ask Ned or something about all his questions, leaving you and the heartbroken Mj to not have to deal with this. But clearly he didn’t get the hint.

“I-I need you to help me with, you know, girls.”

You sighed, feeling Mj’s tense energy even from just sitting beside her, and part of you wondered how Peter couldn’t feel it too. But looking at the boy he looked so happy, practically glowing and flashing you that innocent smile that you didn’t know how to say no to. With another sigh you decided you’d do this yourself, you wouldn’t force Mj to sit and listen to you talk about how Peter can impress a girl that isn’t her.

“Why don’t you swing by my place tonight, I’ll uh, help you out.’ You mentally smiled to yourself at the accidental pun you’d thrown in there. Swing, Spiderman, get it?

“You’re a lifesaver Y/N, thank you,” he said, scattering away to probably go and tell Ned the good news.

Between you and Mj now was a very uncomfortable silence. You didn’t know if it was because you’d agreed to help Peter or if she was still dwelling on his date not being her, and the fact she didn’t even get to ask him first. Either way though you had no idea how to start a new conversation, the two of you sitting silently side by side. Thankfully this time you were saved by the literal bell, a muttered thank you coming from you.

“I’ll see you later,” you said, standing from your seat and offering her a warm smile which unfortunately wasn’t returned. “Whatever.”

»»——⍟——««

The build up to homecoming felt like hell for Mj. She’d voiced to you over the last week all her worries about having to watch Peter and Liz getting to be all lovey-dovey all night and your heart broke for her. You could tell even though she was opening up to you about this, she was still much more hurt by the idea than she was letting on and you’d never been more angry at the clueless boy.

You’d try to assure and reassure her plenty of times that what they got up two didn’t matter. The two of you were going to have fun and you were going to enjoy yourselves tonight without any more heartache. After all Peter was just a dumb high school boy.

When the actual night arrived the girl was freaking out more than you think you’d ever seen her freak out. Some part of her was convinced she had to look perfect just in case Peter so happened to glance her way at any point during the night.

So here you were helping her get ready. She’d bought a pretty dress and insisted on doing her hair the same way as usual after you tried another style and she decided she hated it. She’d obviously apologised for momentarily snapping at you but you’d understood she was feeling really stressed.

You knew what it was like to constantly try and impress someone and fail each and every time, so you couldn’t blame her attempts at trying.

It didn’t take too long for both of you to get ready, however Mj was quick to begin doubting herself as she stared in the mirror for too long. You could see the insecurity on her face and your heart panged with sympathy.

“You’re going to kill tonight,” you said. You could tell your words had an effect on her as she began to shyly play with her hands. You grinned to yourself, bringing her hands in yours and up to your mouth to press a sweet kiss onto her knuckles. “You’re so perfect,” you told her.

Of course you didn’t actually want Peter to realise what was right in front of him and date Mj, but you weren’t going to hurt her because of your own feelings.

“Well, we should head out while we still look hot,” you said, sending her a wink that had her rolling her eyes at you. She took your hand and watched as your smile grew wider as she led you out of your apartment. “Let’s go.”

»»——⍟——««

The night felt like it was flying by with the amount of fun you were having. After making sure Mj couldn’t keep her eyes on Peter she loosened up quite a bit. You’d actually managed to get the stubborn girl to dance with you a little bit, something that not a single part of you expected to happen.

It was only when moving to get another drink you saw Liz sitting alone on the bleachers, no Peter in sight. You tapped Mj’s shoulder to draw her attention to it, motioning over to the girl. If she was being honest, her first reaction was relief, relief that her crush wasn’t dancing the night away with a girl that wasn’t her.

But after a quick re-evaluation of her feelings, she felt a strand of sympathy grow for the girl, but only a really really miniscule one.

“We have to help her,” you reasoned, trying to talk some sense into your friend. With a hesitant answer she nodded, swallowing her hurt and pride and following you over to the bleachers where Liz looked as though she was ready to cry.

She saw the two of you approach and offered you both a weak smile, having no protest to you taking a seat beside her.

“Are you okay?” you asked. She chuckled quietly, probably at herself for getting so worked up over a teenage boy, but nevertheless shook her head.

“He left. He said he was sorry and left.”

She truly did sound hurt by his actions, and you were mentally cursing Peter for hurting yet another sweet girl that didn’t deserve his stupidity.

“Where did he go?” you asked, trying to console the girl. She just shrugged, resting her head on your shoulder sadly as Mj watched the two of you. You rubbed your hand up and down Liz’s back, sending your best friend a warning glare as you saw the way her eyes sparkled. Whether it was out of hope or happiness, neither were appropriate right now.

Part of Mj really was happy that Peter had abandoned Liz. She’d told you that the only thing that could possibly ruin tonight was having to watch them together the whole night when she desperately wished it was her.

“I’m sorry Liz,” she said, pushing her feelings aside to try and be the bigger person. The girl nodded, flashing Mj a sad smile as she brought her hands up to wipe any stray tears.

“I think,” she started, drawing your and Mj’s attention to her. “I think I’m just going to go home.”

Your anger towards Peter only increased with Liz’s words. “Are you sure? You can stay with us if you’d like,” you offered. You could feel Mj’s glare burning into your side as you said the words and the girl was sure she’d cry if Liz was to agree to your suggestion.

Luckily for her though, Liz was quick to deny, telling you both that she really would prefer to go home than keep getting stares of pity and feel this deep sense of embarrassment. It isn’t everyday that someone gets stood up by a ‘nerd’ like Peter Parker, especially not someone like Liz Allan.

The two of you watched as she left the gym, ignoring the stares of nosey teenagers.

As soon as the doors were closed again you turned your full attention to Mj. “I’m proud of you,” you whispered, leaning your head on her shoulder. She sighed, shaking her head but leaning it on top of yours anyway.

“I was being selfish-“ she tried to argue. “But you did the right thing in the end,” you said, wrapping your arms around her in a comforting way. You felt the way the apples of her cheeks pressed against your head more defined and you just knew she was smiling at your words.

“Now, let’s go enjoy our night.”

»»——⍟——««

You were over the moon by the time you got back to your apartment that night. Your parents had made you tell them all about it and you could hardly contain your excitement from the night you’d spent dancing away with Mj. But overall, you were still exhausted and you were ready to just crawl into your bed and sleep for the next few hours.

You entered your room with your smile still permanently stuck on your face, closing the door behind you and pressing your back to the wood as you tried to calm your excitement from the night.

You didn’t expect someone to already be in your room, sitting on your bed to be exact. You flipped on the light and nearly had a heart attack upon seeing the suited boy sitting there, clutching his ribs with a pained expression on his face.

“Peter, oh my god,” You shrieked, trying to keep your voice down so you didn’t alert your parents. The boy’s face was beaten black and blue and from the way he was walking and clutching at his stomach, the rest of him wasn’t much better. “What happened to you?” you asked, rushing over to him to take a close look at his injuries. You could see the tears forming in his waterline and your heart ached for him, carefully wrapping your arms around him.

“Come on,” you said, leading him to your bathroom, a very familiar occurrence recently. Neither of you spoke while you tended to the cuts on his face. You wanted to let him tell you what happened when he was ready, plus you didn’t exactly feel like talking as you tried to quickly come down from the excitement of the night.

Your eyes caught sight of his hand resting in his lap, the skin split on his knuckles that had you wincing at the sight.

“Your hand,” you pointed out, noticing the slight burn marks on his skin when his hand shifted. He shook his head, telling you to ignore it and just help with his face. You tended to his busted lip and the cut right on his cheekbone, wiping away as much blood and dirt as you could.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His eyes were burning holes into yours while you worked on him, noticing the concerned glint every time he’d hiss or wince at some pressure.

“No,” he whispered, the tears from earlier beginning to spill over his cheeks. You cooed quietly, pulling him back into you just so you could hold him. After tonight you were sure Mj would explode seeing the way you were holding Peter, and you felt guilty even if your actions were incredibly innocent. You wouldn’t dream of hurting her like that.

“What happened?” you asked, in the softest voice you could muster. You lightly guided his chin so he was looking into your eyes, his big doe eyes making him look like a lost puppy.

“This is going to sound insane, but,” he laughed to himself. “I- I was fighting Liz’s dad.”

He watched as your eyes widened in shock, your body freezing as you tried to process the words he’d just said. He tried to answer as many of your questions as he could before you even opened your mouth, knowing exactly what was already going through your head.

“Well, do you remember Liz’s party when you saw me on the roof?” It took a lot of explaining from Peter. But he eventually managed to tell you the entire story, right from the alien weapons the night of the party to taking him down and handing him over to the cops. You were surprised but you were sure these were the kinds of things you were going to have to get used to knowing his secret.

Conversation was quick to die down afterwards, neither of you knowing what else to say on the matter, but the thought of Liz after he left her in the gym was eating him alive.

“Did she seem mad?” he asked, timidly. Of course you knew who he was talking about straight away. You thought back on the night and even though it wasn’t the answer he wanted, you had to shrug your shoulders. “She was upset,” you said.

You heard him sigh beside you. “Did I really screw this up?” he asked, laying his head on your shoulder. You sighed, resting your head on top of his, much like how Mj had done to you earlier this afternoon. You weren’t planning on sugar coating this for him. “Yeah, you did.”

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @peterswebshooters @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow @sunwardsss @hallecarey1 @writingrem @mamaparker28 @n0eliii @lovehollandy12 @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker series #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagines #peter parker #peter’s girl

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.3

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!

Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2

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“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.

Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.

You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”

With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.

“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.

Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.

“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.

“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.

“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.

You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”

“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.

“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.

Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”

You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”

Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”

You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”

You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.

He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.

That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”

Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.

You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.

He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”

“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.

“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”

You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”

Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.

This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.

“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.

They tell me not to write of love

but what else can I write –

when love is in my heart and soul

and mind both day and night?

“You’re just too young and you can’t know

of love,” (does anyone?)

“you can’t profess such knowledge –

stick to verse and pun.”

.

They tell me that, and say love poems

are worn out through and through

but I can’t agree with them,

for me love is brand new.

Feelings in me can’t stay down,

my love for him I can’t ignore,

somehow it’s got to be expressed,

“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”

.

To those who stick to subjects

of the sky and stars, of joy and pain

I write my poems of love because

my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.

Perhaps they too shall love again.”

You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.

Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.

"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.

"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.

Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."

A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.

"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."

He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”

***

"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."

You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."

Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.

Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.

“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.

You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.

It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.

With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.

He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.

“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.

Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”

You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”

“What you mean?” Arvin asked.

You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”

You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.

Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”

You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”

He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”

You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”

He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”

“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”

Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”

This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.

“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”

“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”

A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.

Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”

“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.

You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”

Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”

Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”

You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”

“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”

The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”

“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”

Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.

"I'm sorry you lost your sister."

"I'm sorry you lost yours too."

After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.

"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"

Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."

You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."

You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"

Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."

Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.

Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."

"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.

"What about you?" He asked.

You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."

"You ever had a boyfriend?"

You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.

“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.

You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.

Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”

The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.

“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”

“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”

A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.

Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.

“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?

__________________

Taglist:

@peterswebshooters

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

@femmme-xxx-fatale

@kittyformannn

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russel imagines #arvin russell #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt fic #tdatt x reader #tdatt #tdatt imagine #the devil all the time

[shoichee]

part 4: hcs dedicated to reactions: seirin (their precious lil manager going out with that scissor-wielding emperor bastard!?) and rakuzan (their captain was in love with that girl who cussed at him near the vending machine?!? ITS SO FUNNY) ++ angst where akashi gets jealous of readers teammates (IZUKI kuroko kagami furi... but mostly izuki bc point guards with eye powers) because he still feels bad about what happened and thinks he doesnt deserve her -- teiko anon

OUR LEGENDARY TEIKO ANON HAS SPOKEN OF AN EPILOGUE, alright y’all the finale FINALE 🧘🏻‍♀️ OKAY, i don’t think I hammered too hard on the angst, but enjoy the fluff and subtle crack😌

OOH, looks like another anon wants a pt. 4! :0 Since it is primarily the Teiko anon’s request, I will be prioritizing the first request, but I will combine a few aspects of this request to make a fuller headcanon epilogue! Hope everyone enjoys this! part 1 here // part 2 here // part 3 here

Akashi x Reader

Part 4: Epilogue

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

in the aftermath of the Winter Cup, your relationship with Akashi has certainly gotten much better, and dare you say, more intimate and romantic; though you were still healing a bit from the emotional scars from Teiko, they seemed to be going away faster than you realized, especially when everyone gathers for Kuroko’s birthday party

you were with Seirin, helping with the decorations and setting up the plates before Kuroko comes in the evening, but what no one expected was for him to bring in the GoMs

YOU’RE SHOOK AND YOU’RE BASHFUL SEEING AKASHI IN HIS WINTER ATTIRE, you’re getting MAD butterflies, but no one seems to notice because everyone’s attention is on the GoMs and Kuroko

of course Akashi was scanning the room for you first, and you immediately look away from his affectionate stare because you were still not used to the old Akashi, let alone his sweeter side for only you

Izuki notices how quiet you got and nudged your ribs with his elbow before telling a stupid pun… the thing is, you were one of the few people who genuinely found his jokes funny LOL

Akashi widens his eyes, staring at you laughing so unabashedly, and he feels really, really bad that he never got that level of a reaction from you whenever you were with him even despite knowing you for longer

now as the party goes on, Akashi is seeing your dynamics with Seirin for the first time and he’s just really grateful that you found an amazing support group during your low times; he’s not particularly someone to get jealous, but he’s getting a BAD case of FOMO because he’s thinking of all the “what-if’s” and all the times he could’ve made you happy and stress-free

“Akashi-kun?”

“Ah… yes?” Akashi snaps out of his daze to see a mild smirk coming from Kuroko on his right side, and Kuroko was about to ask a question about who he was looking at before a shout of “Watch out!” and a ceramic plate came FLYING across the table to hit the Rakuzan captain square on his face

CUE SCREAMS OF PANIC AS MOMOI PUNCHES AOMINE ON THE HEAD AND RIKO JUMPS TO STRANGLE KAGAMI, AND YOU LITERALLY ZOOMED TO HIS SIDE TO CHECK ON ANY INJURIES

see, he could’ve easily dodged it, and he supposed that it’s his fault for not paying attention and dodging on time

thankfully, the plate didn’t break because Kuroko caught the plate before it reached the floor and placed it back on the table

Akashi still has a bruise or two on his face though… and ngl, everyone gulped when they saw him checking out the injuries with a handheld mirror, ready to get their ankles broken

you were so worried over his safety, he finds it really endearing… but he wants to elicit an expression other than looks of worry or tears or anger (flashback to when you cussed him out)

“Wait, but (y/n)...” Koganei said. “Since when were you so close to Akashi that you didn’t hesitate to touch his face?”

a few moments of silence for everyone to register his words

“EHHHH?????!!!!”

everyone is throwing QUESTION after QUESTION at the two of you, and Akashi just has a neutral face with his mouth parted while you were so embarrassed LMAO

Kise being a real best friend, tells them:

“Alright, alright, everyone! Let’s not forget about the birthday boy! Kurokocchi should be the center of our attention today!”

“Kise, that’s…”

“Anywho! Let’s light up the cake and find those party poppers…”

after the party though, when you all return to school, Seirin was READY to jump on you for interrogation, and you do reluctantly tell them that you and Akashi are a tentative couple

Riko: “SERIOUSLY? I mean… that’s kinda cute though…”

Hyuuga: “I mean… yeah, as long as you’re happy, it’s none of my business.”

Teppei: “I hope he treats you well, (y/n)-san.” and of course he gives you his signature head pats

Furihata, Tsuchida, Kawahara: “??????????????????? But why?”

Koganei: “Huh, guess that explains a lot.”

Kagami: “???????????? pt. 2 LMAO” and also “What do you even see in him?” in genuine curiosity

Izuki: “ I guess you two dove into this relationship without hesitation, eh? Get it, get it? Because doves are a symbol of lo—”

“Izuki, shut the fuck up.”

“It means that you love (Ai)kashi—” [Ai means love]

“IZUKI.”

Kuroko simply pretends that this is the first time he’s heard of you dating Akashi, and he gives you his heartfelt congratulations, and as long as Kuroko approves of it, you feel like you’re on the right track (he’s such a good judge of character!)

you and Akashi actually live VERY far apart, considering that your schools are equally just as far in distance, but that being said, for our rich boy Akashi, distance isn’t much of a problem when he can easily find ways to come visit any time

he can also pay for your transportation to visit Rakuzan if you ever felt like visiting him too (although, you insist to pay for your own things, but he’s not having it because he says it’s a treat for him to see you too)

whenever Akashi stops by the Seirin campus to visit, he’s just kind of awkward standing there like the prince that he is, waiting for the perfect opportunity to walk in, but every time, he’d ALWAYS notice how you’re so happy being with everyone here, especially with Izuki, and his guilt just comes back full force again

he wonders if this was right of him to date you when there’s so much people who can easily do a better job in getting you to smile and be completely yourself, especially since he’s been the source of your anguish for all these months (maybe even a year or two if he was counting the duration of your entire crush on him that you assumed to be unrequited)

“Seijurō!” your voice rang out, beckoning him to walk towards you and the group

all of the Seirin teammates are so wary of him, and are all hyper aware of his movements LOL, and Kuroko is just like “hi, you’re back” very casually

Kagami uses this as a chance to challenge a one-on-one on Akashi

Kagami gets destroyed in a few minutes flat

the whole time you’re just watching Akashi with heart eyes, unbeknownst to him while he was focused on Kagami

after the interrogation and Akashi passing the “first stage” of acceptance, you and him find time to have a cute date at a local shopping district to walk around and sightsee

Akashi finds it fun, he really did, but there’s a part of him that thinks you’d have more fun with people who know you better… a.k.a. Izuki, or legit any other Seirin member

he’s visibly distracted by his own thoughts, and you wave a hand to his face, asking if this was too boring for him

“No, no, of course I’m enjoying this with you,” he muses, putting a gentle kiss to your temple. “Shall we get moving?”

“Something’s bothering you isn’t it.”

“No,” he chuckles, giving a gentle smile, but you only frown at him… once again he sees that you weren’t smiling at him

“I’m serious Sei, I want to get to know the real you,” you softly chastise, pinching his cheek. “So I also want you to speak your mind around me.”

“Oh ho… I see that your boldness is still very present here,” he says in referring to your touch.

“Oh my god, can you drop it already? That’s so embarrassing—I cussed you out one time… hey don’t change the subject!”

“Hmm…” he hums for a bit before he comes clean. “I’m afraid that I might not be the right person to be worthy by your side after hurting you for so long.”

“... What makes you think that?” He hesitates, for the first time, not being so sure of himself and his emotions; he immediately thinks of Izuki and your good chemistry with him but dismisses the thought

“... I just do not think I’m capable enough to make you happy.”

“But you are. I’m very giddy to be with you right now.”

“Even happier than when you are with… your teammates?”

“Huh?”

“I apologize,” he hurriedly says. “They are your friends. I was out of line to question them.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Talk it out to me.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you both continue to walk and browse through the shops, and you carefully watch Akashi while he’s examining a few souvenirs on the display, patient for him to continue talking

“... the point guard.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Seirin’s point guard.”

“Izuki-kun? What about him?”

“While I’m aware that you only spend your time with him as a good friend… I want to spend just as much of a koala-ty time with you whenever we have the chance.”

he... says this with the straightest face, and you’re utterly confused before you saw some animal plushies on the store window, and the the koala plush, and then the cogs started turning in your head

“... Did you just say a pun?”

“Was it not sufficient?”

a few moments of silence pass and Akashi thinks he did something wrong because he wanted to make you smile (HELP poor captain), before you break into hysterics

between your fits of broken laughs and wheezes, you managed to ask if he was jealous of Izuki, to which he wholeheartedly kept denying until you wouldn’t stop being persistent

you reassure him over and over that he doesn’t need to act like Izuki to make you happy, but it was a pleasant surprise to see Akashi crack a “joke” nonetheless

he’s a bit new to the concept of dating and is still quite unsure of how to navigate this PLEASE GIVE HIM TIME

the date that day was a success (some of the Seirin teammates TOTALLY weren’t spying on you mid-date or anything…)

while Seirin is okay with you dating, visiting Rakuzan ALONE with the scary-ass captain and his “CROONIES” (hint: the rest of the team LMAOO) IS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT STORY

RIKO AND HYUUGA are just like:

“What’s wrong with him coming here to visit you? Why do you gotta do the effort to visit him?”

“Uh… because I want to…”

“Yes, but who would you call to help over if something wrong happens? You’d be too far!”

“Uh, Akashi can help me if something happens.”

“With what, his scissors?” Kagami gives a deadpan look, and everyone turns to look at him in utter confusion LMAOOO like what does this redhead mean by SCISSORS???

Kuroko immediately jabs Kagami’s sides to silence him and smoothly changes the conversation before anyone asks any more questions about the “scissors” and potentially make them more reluctant to let you go

oh Kuroko, being the mediator and negotiator as always, trying to set some safety protocols for you to follow before everyone finally agrees to let you go see the infamous team alone

you know, Teppei is honestly just like, “Just go! Don’t worry about our (y/n) too much!”

Furihata is so concerned for your safety for valid reasons, but you reassure him that you won’t “die from the trip,” and no, this wouldn’t “be the last time” they’d see you before you leave

so when you stopped by Rakuzan’s gym after school after looking at the online maps, Hayama lets out a screech of terror before he starts pointing at you and calling you the “crazy ass chick” who tried to have a first-row seat ticket to death LOL

Hayama’s commotion brought everyone else’s attention to you, and Akashi was very surprised to see you all the way here

but he’s just standing at the back to watch how his teammates are reacting to you

Reo is the guy who would welcome you very warmly and would introduce you to the other team members who aren’t the starters, and he would actually ask if you were okay from last time

Nebuya is very laid back and throws a few muscle jokes much to Reo’s dismay, and he makes a comment about not you possibly not eating enough because at the time, he saw you almost tripping up your feet after you cussed out Akashi… he offers you his extra bowls if you ever feel hungry VERY SWEET GUY

Mayuzumi thinks you have balls, like who the fuck would come out alive after cussing out his captain but then COME BACK to said school of the captain… like why would you willingly walk back into the lion’s den??? so he thinks you’re dumb, but he has a shred of respect for you

Akashi is so amused at the spectacle and finally walks over to you after you noticed him

and he gives you an embrace and a chaste forehead kiss, and the entire gym goes silent

“Sei! I wanted to drop by as a surprise! Did you expect me?”

“Hm, I may have expected you to come sooner or later, but definitely not this quickly. Were transportation fees too much of a hassle?”

“Nope! I got everything covered! Do you want me to give you any chiropractic massages if you and your teammates need it?”

“You don’t need to do that, (y/n). You came here as a guest, not as a manager.”

“But…”

“Shhh, as soon as practice is done, I’ll take you anywhere you want in Kyotō. How does that sound?”

“Er… captain?” Reo holds up a hesitant finger to interrupt the two of you, while everyone else looks horrified at the sight of their captain looking serene

“Get a room, will you?” Mayuzumi only tuts in irritation while turning away to grab a nearby water bottle to down in one go

Nebuya merely stares in astonishment at the two of you, and his mind is thinking how the hell did you reel in this guy?

nah man, Hayama is GONE at this point: his brain has stopped functioning a while ago, and he’s standing there as stiff as a statue, scratching his head like a lost monkey // like he’s thinking how the fuck did this shit add up?? in his mind, he’s taking 2 plus 2 but it somehow ends up 94… that’s how he’s processing what he’s witnessing

the rest of the benchers and lower-string players are confused? who ARE you anyways?? Akashi?? dating??? that’s Rakuzan gossip of the century

TLDR; your first trip to Rakuzan may be awkward because the two of you stick out like a sore thumb, but eventually after multiple trips, the team slowly begins to consider you as one of their own

as per Akashi’s “suggestion” (hint: not a suggestion, but a strong recommendation), you were to be retreated with respect and kindness

why? Because Akashi never wants a repeat of the situation at Teiko ever again :(

as long as he is captain, and as long as he has the power and authority, he will do everything he can to make you happy and comfortable

don’t worry though, the Rakuzan starters are more than willing to punt any kid who talks shit about you

surprisingly, once Hayama comes around and accepts the fact that you were dating the captain, he’d be the most adamant and vocal protector, and he’s the one who shares the “inside tips and tricks” about the captain EEEE it’s so wholesome !!

the Rakuzan team is your certified bodyguard group, no debate

Reo might be the nosy mom who asks about who confessed first and the like…

the END, and I DO MEAN THE END THIS TIME

#knb #kuroko no basket #knb x reader #akashi seijuro #knb headcanons #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro x reader #teiko #knb teiko #teiko middle school #THE END FOR REAL