#we’ve had her since she was nine weeks old

[thirt13n]

bear update — under a cut for medical stuff … im on mobile atm so i hope the cut actually works

we’re at the emergency vet rn with bear — they biopsied a lump on her neck on monday and the news wasn’t great .. and now she’s super swollen and they’re concerned the tumo.r’s gotten super aggressive as a result of the biopsy… so if I disappear from the dash and ims for a little while, that would be why.

#im kinda a wreck #we’ve had her since she was nine weeks old #so basically her entire 12 years of life #good thoughts please #pet illness cw #cancer cw #ask to tag. #mobile.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter nine

summary: you catch up with an old friend and luca makes you dinner.

warnings: fluff, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (songs mentioned in chapter are in this playlist!)

a/n: i've always pictured mathilde & jesper as the chalamet siblings AND astrid is in fact played by rina sawayama i don't make the rules (i do). thank you for all comments, reblogs, and screaming at me because we are all obsessed. seriously, it's an honor and i'm just so excited that you all are just as excited as me. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

You spend your first Sunday afternoon without Luca, for the first time in a few weeks, deep cleaning your home. Between your new relationship and your work at the restaurant, you’d found yourself falling behind on chores. But he’d worked the late shift last night, filling in for a cook who called out, which is how you’d ended up with a night and morning of divine alone time. 

With your headphones on, it’s easy to multitask, simultaneously folding clothes while you catch up with your friend, formerly-sister-in-law, over the phone. 

“Anyways, work’s kept me so damn busy that I’ve barely had a moment in my own home but… we are all doing quite alright over here,” she explains, after detailing her travels all across Europe. 

Being a buyer for Nordstrom UK keeps her on the road, or rather, in the sky, at a frequent rate. 

“Well I’m glad you called. It’s good to hear from you. And It’s really good to catch up, Astrid,” you say, smiling to yourself as you finish folding a pile of t-shirts. 

“Well, just because you and Joe didn’t work out doesn’t change anything. You’re still my sister,” she replies, with a small laugh. “We’re family, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t keep a good thing around.”

“Astrid! You know it wasn’t like that,” you protest, though you know it’s all in jest.

“I know,” she sighs, and you can practically hear her rolling her eyes from all the way to England. “Selfishly, I’m just feeling a bit contrary about it, is all. But enough about me. How are you? How’s everything at the restaurant?”

“It’s been great. I… can’t believe that I have a restaurant,” you answer as you shake your head in disbelief.

“God, I’ve gotta get out there soon. I haven’t stopped thinking about that lumache from my last visit – what was it – last November? Yeah, it’s been too long,” Astrid recalls lightheartedly. 

“Yeah, it really has. Just let me know. You know I’m always up for hosting you,” you agree, hopeful that she’ll come visit soon. 

“Besides work, what else’s new? And don’t tell me you’re still just burying yourself in the restaurant because I don’t want to hear it,” she asks, a curious tone in her voice as she segways from work to 

“Well um…” you trail off, treading lightly over the delicate subject. 

The thing you want to tell her about is Luca, because he is what’s new in your life. His presence in your life is evident – it’s in the pair of sweatpants he tossed in with your laundry that you’re folding now, the spare toothbrush you ‘lent’ him that sits right next to yours, and the way that thinking of him makes your heart race. 

You don’t want to lie to her… but you’re also not sure what the etiquette is either. 

It’s not like this is included in the divorcee handbook you never got in the first place. 

“I’m… sort of seeing someone,” you admit, hesitantly. 

“What?!” she gasps, instantly giddy with excitement. “Yeah, we uh…” you hesitate, testing the waters since she seems excited about it. “We’ve been dating for about a month now, maybe.”

“Shut up! That’s mega! How’d you meet? Tell me everything,” she gushes. 

“Well, he actually came into the restaurant. Kind of became a regular and uh…” you explain, and she can hear the smile in your voice as you do. “He’s great. You’ll love this story, actually. He’s also a chef – a pastry chef. One night after coming in, he left a box of croissants for my staff and a handwritten note inviting me to come to the restaurant he works at. It was very….”

“Romantic. Wow…” Astrid adds, too excited for you as she listens. “And a bold move. Knows what he wants. I like him already.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s really incredible. I swear. He has the patience of a saint, especially as I’ve uh… you know, I’ve been trying to figure this whole… dating after you end your marriage kinda thing,” you continue, chuckling in response to the awkwardness of it all. 

“We were friends actually, for a while. Just friends, which, I know you’ll yell at me about when you see what he looks like. But I think it was good for us, for me, really – to be friends first.”

“Well, now you have to send me a picture,” she requests, even more intrigued as you fiddle with your phone, pulling up a photo you took of Luca the other day. 

You wait a beat. Then another, seeing that the photo has been delivered as Astrid shrieks in your ear. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, mate?!” she practically screams. 

“I know,” you squeal. 

“You are absolutely unbelievable,” she shakes her head, staring at the gorgeous blonde on her screen. “How did you not jump right into bed?!”

“Trust me,” you reply, the room suddenly feeling 5 degrees hotter. “After we agreed to start seeing each other, we didn’t wait very long.”

”Sounds like you have a boyfriend,” Astrid comments smugly, as she waits for your reaction. You have expect yourself to panic, but you don’t as you the words tumble out of your mouth. 

“I… it does sound that way, doesn’t it?” you ask her, your voice soft as you reply. 

“Absolutely, my darling,” Astrid replies, before changing the subject. “Okay, so how’s the sex?!”

“Astrid!” you protest with a laugh. “Do you really want to-?”

“Of fucking bloody course I do! Now spill!” she demands. 

You pause, grinning as your cheeks blush. 

“It’s fucking incredible,” you admit, eliciting a giggle from your friend. 

“Shit, babe,” she sighs, contently. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you say back, because you’re pretty damn happy too. “Astrid, will you keep this between us? It’s just that it’s all still so new and….” 

You pause. 

“I just don’t want Joe to hear it from anyone but me.” 

“Of course,” she replies, compassionately, in deep understanding.

“What else are sisters for?”

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

You showed up to Luca’s flat uncertain of what to expect, but then he’d pulled you into his home and kissed you like you’d been on his mind all day – and in his defense, you really had. 

“Why don’t you come over Sunday night, then? Let me cook you dinner for a change,” he had suggested as you were figuring out your schedules for the week. 

“You sure you’ll be up for that after working overtime this week?” you’d asked in response. 

“I’ll be alright, love,” he’d answered, like he had unlimited energy when it came to you. 

And even though you’d asked him if you should bring dessert – only to be met with a cheeky comment about you being dessert – you showed up anyway with a matcha basque cheesecake in hand and a deli container filled with a yuzu scented whipped cream to top it with. 

So this is how you find yourself perched on top of Luca’s kitchen island countertop, after having watched his exceptional knife skills for the last thirty. You spend your evening snacking on sliced sourdough bread you’re not sure how he had the time to make, and sip on your glass of red wine while watching him prepare a coq au vin. You swear you’ve got hearts in your eyes when you look at him, watching his muscular, inked forearms flex with how he grips his chef’s knife. As music plays softly in the background, a playlist you can only imagine is the entirety of Luca’s music library put on shuffle, you busy yourself, refilling your wine glass for your second glass of the night. 

“Want another, babe?” you ask him, noticing that he’s on his way to empty as well. 

“Sure. Thank you, my love,” he replies, scooping a handful of chopped carrots up from his cutting board with a bench scraper, depositing them into a small bowl. You watch as Luca picks up his glass of wine and makes his way over to you. 

He hands you the glass, then places a gentle kiss against your lips, a smile spreading across his lips. Luca takes a few steps away so that you can fill his glass again, making a few swift movements to turn the heat down on the gas burner. 

“How was your day?” he asks, while still moving around his kitchen. 

You fill him in on your productive day of chores and catching up with an old friend while Luca listens, busy with removing the pieces of chicken out from the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. By the time Luca’s added hot oil to the pot, followed by the chopped carrots and peeled, halved cipollini onions, you’ve caught him up on the long version of Jesper’s latest love-life updates, since he and Claudio have now decided to make it official. 

“So you used to make this with your mom?” you ask curiously, changing the subject as you watch Luca scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the pot. 

He nods in response, stealing a glance your way, his lips turned up into a half smile. 

“Yeah. Most coq au vins can take up to three to four hours, but my mum didn’t have the time,” Luca explains, as you watch him remove the pieces of chicken from out of the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. “But it was important for her… to cook for me… to share that ritual with me when she could.” 

The sound of the wine and cognac mixture hitting the hot pan sizzles throughout Luca’s home, your nose filling with the smell of deglazed caramelized bits. 

“And I spent a lot of time as a kid watching the cooking channel, so while we didn’t exactly spend all Sunday cooking a classic French coq au vin, Jamie Oliver’s did the job quite well,” Luca recalls, sharing a piece of his relationship with food with you. 

“Well, it smells incredible,” you say, as he approaches you once more, this time with a full glass of wine in your hands, ready for him. 

As Luca leans in again, the way he kisses you is much more languid, slow, like time is limitless. You breathe him in, completely enamored with the man that’s kissing you, and before anything too wild can happen, he pulls away, leaving you wanting more. Luca smirks, and you swear he knows the effect he has on you. He presses a quick peck to your lips this time, before taking the glass of wine from your hands and heading back to his post in front of the stovetop. 

“This all goes back in,” he continues, using tongs to add the chicken and pancetta bits back into the simmering pot. “Then we braise it in the oven for about… thirty, forty minutes maybe.” 

You raise your glass of wine to your lips, taking a quick sip of the beaujolais you’re using both for the coq au vin and to unwind, listening as the song changes in the background, instantly recognizing the drum pattern. The corners of your lips turn up into a smile as you close your eyes, enjoying the familiarity of the song as you say:

“God, I love this song.”

Luca smiles, “It’s a classic. Great song.” 

Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick

The one that makes me scream, she said

The one that makes me laugh, she said

Threw her arms around my neck

“You know, I saw them when I was in my early 20s. It was just me and a bunch of somebody’s dads,” you grin, in reference to The Cure. 

Luca chuckles at your comment, before asking, “Did you really?” 

“Yes. And when they came out on stage, smoke machine and all, I wept because it was the fulfillment of a childhood dream – to see them. I… was a bit of an angsty teen,” you answer, raising your wine glass to your lips once more. 

“Think we all had an angsty phase, more or less. Mine was less pining to The Cure and more stirrin’ up trouble,” Luca admits, lightheartedly. 

“Again, and I’m holding you to it. You promised me pictures,” you remind him with aplomb. 

“I did, yeah,” he chuckles, shyly, with a sigh of resignation. 

You focus on enjoying one of your favorite songs and sipping on your glass of wine, as you watch Luca put the enameled cast-iron plot, full of the ready-to-braise coq au vin, into the oven. 

Comfortable silences between you and Luca have become more frequent. There are days that all you want to do is stay up till the early hours of the morning talking and kissing and fucking, and there are others that you love leaning into the quiet intimacy that seems to be developing between you. It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten what this feels like – the excitement of something new where you’re learning so much about each other and everything feels like the first time. 

It’s thrilling and it’s also safe. 

Luca makes you feel safe, and you can’t imagine doing this with anyone else but him. 

For a first time relationship, post-divorce, you really hit the jackpot, you think to yourself. 

Luca continues moving around the kitchen, drinking his wine in between clean up tasks, as if he’s at work, hell bent on keeping his station clean. He’s much better than you are at that, you observe, as he does a few dishes that he’s used up, instead of leaving them in the sink for tomorrow. 

As he dries his hands on a dish towel, the song changes, and the opening notes of Beyonce’s Love On Top begin playing. You smile as you hear the undeniable: 

Bring the beat in!

“Alright, mate. Hear me out,” Luca proposes, spinning around with excitement. “And I don’t say this lightly. But this. This is one of the greatest songs of all time.” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you giggle as you watch Luca dance to the song in his kitchen with a smoothness that’s somehow simultaneously a little silly. 

“What? You don’t agree?” he asks, shooting you a look as he ball changes towards you, earning another laugh from you. 

“No, I do. I love this song,” you grin from ear to ear. “I’m just so tickled by the fact that you love this song.”

“It’s Beyonce,” he defends, in his best ‘well-duh’ kind of tone, gesturing wildly. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” 

“Wh-,” you begin to say, before Luca’s practically pulling you off of the counter to join him. “Luca!!”

But he’s not having any of your protests as he wraps his arms around you. You hang onto him, holding him close as he leads you in a silly uptempo kind of dance, spinning and turning you with him in a way that has you in a fit of giggles. The two of you stumble from his kitchen into the living space area as you move together, embracing how goofy and ridiculous you both feel. 

Luca sings along softly, something you get a better listen to as soon as he’s pulling you close to him. 

“What the fuck!” you practically shriek, your jaw practically on the floor. 

“Hmm?” he hums in response, unphased by your outburst. 

“You’re unfuckingreal,” you balk, as you listen to him hum along to the Beyonce song. “I mean. You-, like, you look like this, you’re great in bed, and you have a nice singing voice? How-, how’s a girl ever supposed to stand a chance?” 

He chuckles, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, sending chills down your spine as he coos, teasingly, “I’m great in the sack, hmm?” 

Your heart skips a beat as you pull back, just enough to look into the eyes of your lover as you say, “Oh fuck off.”

He laughs again, this time, leaving a soft kiss against your ear, hugging you closer to him as you slow your dance down as the song begins to end. There’s a pause between this and the next song, providing the perfect opportunity for Luca to answer your earlier question. 

“You weren’t,” Luca replies, his voice quiet but sure. Supposed to stand a chance, he means. “I think we were supposed to meet. Supposed to be here.”

Supposed to fall in love. 

He leans down to kiss you as the next song begins, transitioning into a much bluesier sound. The crooning sounds of Etta James blast from Luca’s living room speakers, as you smile into the kiss. You groan, your heart aching in the best way as kiss him to:

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love, oh yeah, yeah

“My God. I think tonight’s shuffle is proof that you may just have the most versatile taste in music history,” you mumble, pulling away for a moment from the kiss. 

As you open your eyes, Luca’s just admiring you, an awestruck look on his face that steals your breath. No longer able to deflect with humor or anything else really, you lay your head on his chest, settling into the soft swaying motion of the dance that you and Luca have fallen into. Your arms go around his neck once more as Luca holds you close to him, making a mental note to remember this forever. 

“How did you know?” you ask Luca, softly. 

“What’s that, love?” he asks back. 

“You said that you thought we might be good at this. At… at an ‘us.’ When we talked about starting to see each other,” you begin, choosing your words carefully, underscored by the violins of the song. 

Luca takes a deep breath admitting that, “I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up at him, your eyes full of adoration for the man that’s captured your heart.

“Babe, I-,” he starts, letting out a small laugh. “I knew we got on well. And that I liked you. And I thought… if we got on this well as friends and you felt the same, that we could give it a go. See what happens.” He takes a beat, choosing his words, before continuing with: 

“But, my love, I can’t predict the future. It could work out in the long run, it could not. But I wanted-, I want to see how far we can take it.”

You take a deep breath, because this conversation is deep-breath worthy. 

Notorious for wanting to read the last page of a book first, you know he’s right, that you can’t predict the future, and you, now just as much as he does, would like to see how far this could go. 

“Yeah it-, that makes complete sense,” you stammer, feeling incredibly vulnerable all of a sudden. You rest your head against his chest again, settling back into your slow sway to the beat. 

Like clockwork, the song ends, something a little more upbeat trickling in through the speakers. You and Luca remain in each others’ arms, content to stay here forever. You’re amazed at his confidence, at his fearlessness to take a chance on love, and you think to yourself, he might be teaching you some of that too. 

“Let’s take a trip together,” Luca suggests, the low resonance of his voice cutting through the quiet. “Maybe end of the month or something. An end of summer trip.” He chuckles, a hand coming up to stroke your hair as you enjoy the way his voice vibrates in his chest. 

“Fuck it. I could care less if we make it in time for the end of summer. Let’s just get out of the city together.” 

“That sounds spectacular,” you answer. 

And it’s there, in Luca’s arms after a dance party for two, that you think to yourself, you couldn’t be happier.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

[theemporium]

[3.3k] after a conversation with steve leaves him haunted with ideas, eddie takes it upon himself to create the perfect circumstances to live out his car sex fantasy. (smut)

based off this request

.

In all fairness, the date wasn’t technically based on a lie. 

Between class assignments, after-school jobs and Eddie working on the latest campaign before he officially handed the club off to the younger boys, there hadn’t been much time for you two to just spend it…together. 

Sure, there were the odd nights you’d head over to the trailer park or he would head over to your house, but neither of you ever stayed up late enough to enjoy the time together. Nine out of ten times, you’d both be so caught up with your own things that the first time you really got a moment alone from everything would be the minutes before you passed out in bed. 

So, the idea of a random, impromptu date at the drive-in movie theatre just outside of town seemed like the perfect night you both needed after weeks of nothing. A sweet, innocent night shared together watching some trashy old movie with snacks and drinks you picked up from the 7/11 on the way—and totally nothing to do with the fantasy that had been playing over and over in his head for the last few weeks. 

Honestly, it had been Steve’s fault. 

He had been hanging around Family Video a couple of weeks ago when the topic was brought up. Just a simple back and forth of the best and worst places to have sex whilst Steve sorted through the x-rated videos the store had to offer. They had been debating on whether shower sex was really worth the risk or not when Steve brought it up. 

“Okay but nothing beats the back of a car,” he had commented casually, not seeming to notice the way Eddie perked up in interest. 

“Huh?”

“Like, when you’re fooling around with a girl and then she climbs into the back with that look on her face? It’s hot,” Steve said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s hot in the front seat too, but it’s a little cramped up there.” 

Eddie didn’t say anything in response because, truly, he couldn’t. He couldn’t put his two cents into the conversation, he couldn’t add in any opinions because it was never something he ever experienced. 

There had been a few hookups in the back of the van, but that was different. The back of the van was spacious and he often had pillows and blankets down to make it a little nicer. The last time he drove a car was back when Wayne was teaching him, and even then, it only took a few weeks before he got his licence. And he didn’t drive anything again until he saved up for the van, did a little work on her and had her as his very own ever since. 

Yet, there was a small part of Eddie that couldn’t help but feel like he was missing out. As Steve continued to ramble on, that pit in his stomach grew and grew into something quite like envy. 

He wanted that. He wanted the silly giggles and breathless moans when he fucked some girl in the backseat of a car. He wanted the heated windows, the bodies pressed together and the clothes abandoned on the car floor. He wanted that. 

He wanted that with you, with his pretty girl.

But he never said that to Steve. He never said that to you either. He didn’t say a damn word to anyone, and instead he formulated a plan in his head to get the fantasy he wanted. It was almost embarrassing how easily it worked. 

He waited a couple of weeks until the conversation between Steve and himself was long forgotten. He waited until it felt like a random day when he suddenly called Steve, frantic and desperate and seemingly in need of some serious help from a friend. 

“Woah, breathe! What’s wrong?” 

“It’s my van,” Eddie said as he tried to sound beat down and glum about the whole thing. “I planned the perfect date, Harrington! We’ve barely been able to each other with her college classes and my shifts at the garage, and now my stupid van won’t be ready in time for the drive in I wanted to take her to. She had been raving about it to her friends.” 

“Oh shit. When is the date?”

Eddie tried to bite back his grin. “Tomorrow night.”

“Just take my car!”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I won’t need it tomorrow night anyways. I’ll be at Robin’s.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Harrington,” Eddie breathed out a sigh of relief, a wide smile spread across his face. “I’ll promise to get it back to you in one piece.”

And possibly dry cleaned too, Eddie added as an afterthought.

With a car secure in his possession, the rest of the plan ran as smoothly as he hoped. He drove to your house, kissing away any questions you had about the car with some muttered lies about a dodgy engine problem in his van passed between before he headed towards the drive-in. 

He could barely keep his eyes off you the whole drive, but it was almost like you knew the dirty, little fantasy playing in his head. You were wearing a pretty number he swore he had never seen before, some floral dress that rests just above your knees. The straps were thinner than Eddie imagined was practically possible, and the second you shed the small cardigan off in the car, he was a fucking goner. 

He was straining in his jeans by the time you pulled into the drive-in, jammed between two massive pick-up trucks and, god, Eddie had never been more grateful and convinced that a superior being existed. 

Eddie tried to take it slow. He tried to let the moment come naturally. He watched as you pushed your seat all the way back, allowed himself to do the same and he tried to focus on the movie. He really, really tried. But then you had kicked your feet up on the dashboard, your skirt had ridden up just enough for him to see the pair of cotton panties you were wearing and his brain went totally blank.

“You’re staring, pretty boy.” 

He blinked, taking a few seconds to realise you had actually said something to him. “What?” 

It felt like someone caved his chest in when you smiled at him. “I said, you’re staring,” you repeated, looking far too amused at the clueless expression on his face. “You haven’t even looked at the screen in the last fifteen minutes.”

“Must be a pretty boring movie then,” he answered with a shrug. 

You raised your brows. “So you’re watching me instead?” 

“You’re pretty damn spectacular, babe,” he replied. 

“Me or my legs?” You teased. 

“Both,” he answered shamelessly, and you couldn’t help but let out a snort. 

“Watch the movie, Eds,” you told him, shaking your head as you turned to look out the front window towards the screen again. However, your attention quickly shifted back to the boy in the driver seat when his hand landed just above your knee. “Can I help you?” 

“It’s a boring movie, babe,” he said, his fingers gliding along your skin and it took everything in you to not shiver at the feather-light touches. “A waste of time, if I’m being honest. We could always get Steve to slip it to us for free for a couple of hours.”

“Hm,” you hummed, trying to act nonchalant as you focused your gaze on his face and not the way his pretty fingers looked dancing across your skin. “And what do you propose we do instead then? The movie is two hours long. You gonna entertain me, Munson?”

His lips twitched upwards. “I have some ideas on how to keep you preoccupied, baby.”

“Like staring at me?”

“Like fucking you dumb in the backseat.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted in shock at the blunt words that just left your boyfriend’s lips, and you waited. You waited for him to crack some joke. You waited for him to grin and wave it off, but he didn’t. He just kept staring at you like he was a starved man, like he wanted to fucking ravish you—and honestly, you wanted it too.

“Eddie,” you murmured, shifting in your seat as he squeezed your thigh. “We can’t.”

He raised his brows. “Why not?”

“We are surrounded by people,” you muttered, your cheeks feeling warm and heated as you glanced around at all the cars parked in the drive-in. You were completely surrounded. There was no way somebody wouldn’t catch you. 

“Scared?” He teased with a grin that felt a little sadistic.

“Eddie.”

“Just a lil’ good girl, aren’t you? Not wanting to get caught…not wanting anyone to see how need you get for me,” Eddie mused, something in his eyes darkening as he continued to trace his fingers along your thigh. 

Your breath hitched as he reached the hem of your skirt. “Eddie—”

“It’s a shame I don’t believe you, honey,” he murmured as his eyes snapped back up towards you, as he watched your face carefully as his fingers slid underneath your dress and lightly grazed your clothed cunt. “Not when you’re this fucking wet and I’ve barely touched you.” 

“I–” You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. Not when his thumb pressed down on your clit. 

“You can act like a good girl all you want but I know the truth, baby,” he hummed as he watched your hand dart down to grip his wrist—but not to push him away. No, you were keeping his hand locked in place like you were scared he was going to move away. “You fucking love the idea. You fucking love the idea that anyone could see what a desperate little slut you become for my cock, hm?”

“Please,” you breathed out, your head falling back against the seat as your legs opened slightly wider. 

Eddie didn’t even bother to hide his grin as he pulled his hand back, listening to the way you whined at the loss. “Take them off.” 

You blinked, your heart beating wildly in your chest. “What—”

“Off. Now.” 

You didn’t waste any time as your thumbs hooked on the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs and barely making it past your ankles before Eddie balled the fabric up and shoved it into his pocket. You didn’t even get a chance to comment on how quick he was before the boy was pushing your legs open once again, the fabric of your dress pooled at your hips and your pussy on display for him. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” Eddie muttered, mostly to himself, before he lifted his hand to slowly trace his fingers over your soaked cunt. You shivered at the soft touches, your thighs instinctively moving to clench shut but he pushed them open again. “Nuh uh, honey, not letting you hide from me.”

“Eddie,” you whined, a little too desperate when he had barely touched you but you didn’t care. “Please. Fuck, please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, his tone almost tipping over that line of condescending. But honestly, it just made the coil in your stomach tighten. You liked it when he was a little mean. You liked it when he knew just what you wanted. “Gonna make my girl feel good. Promise.”

One hand gripped the fabric of your dress, letting it bunch in your first as your other hand pressed against the window. You tried to keep quiet. You tried to remind yourself that cars were far from soundproof. You tried to remind yourself that you were surrounded by other movie-watchers. You tried to remind yourself that anybody could look over and see you. 

But it was really hard to care about anything other than Eddie burying two fingers inside you, pumping and curling his fingers in a way that had you arching off your seat. 

And Eddie couldn’t help but watch, completely enthralled. 

He didn’t give two shits about the movie when he had you. The way you squirmed and wiggled in the passenger seat, your nails digging into the fabric of the seat and scratching along the car door as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you. The way you clenched around him, incoherent babbles and needy noises leaving your mouth as you reached closer and closer to your edge. The way you looked so fucking pretty with flushed cheeks and glossy eyes and he had barely fucking touched you. 

This was a movie he could never get sick off. This was a movie he could never look away from even if he tried. 

And fuck, the way you were far too loud when you came. The way he was so fucking sure that either patrons in the trucks beside you could have heard you, could have looked over and seen you coming around his fingers as you cried out his name. The way Eddie felt something quite like pride burst in his chest at the idea. 

“Atta girl,” he cooed, his thumb brushing over your sensitive clit as your body convulsed at the burst of pleasure. “Told you I know what my pretty girl wants.” 

“Eds,” you mumbled, somewhere lost between pleasure and desire as you watched him slide his fingers out of you. As you watched him bring his fingers to his lips, shamelessly sucking off the mess you made and groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. As you watched his eyes roll back as he savoured the moment. 

And before you could even let yourself catch your breath, his hand slapping the inside of your thigh as he flashed you a smirk. 

“Get that pretty ass in the backseat, baby.” 

There was something about the way you didn’t even hesitate as you clambered into the backseat of the car, even with shaky legs and panting breaths as you tried to recover from your previous orgasm. There was something about the sight of your dress pulled up over your ass, giving him a pretty view of your pussy as you climbed into the back. There was something about the fact you were so unbothered and uncaring about patrons in the drive-in hearing or seeing you now because you only had one thought on your mind—and it was his cock.

Eddie groaned at the sight of you in the backseat, biting on your bottom lip as you looked at him with a sense of urgency. You wanted him. You needed him. And fuck, if that didn’t make blood rush down to his already painfully hard cock. 

His fingers moved down to unbutton his jeans, hand slipping beneath the waistband to squeeze the bulge in his boxers for some relief but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be inside you, he needed to feel you clenching around him, he needed to have your pretty pussy wrapped around him. 

The car was already reaching a point of warmth that would start to become unbearable with too many layers. With the windows already starting to fog up and a thin layer of sweat covering your skin, Eddie barely wasted any time in shedding a few layers until the boy’s flannel and shirt were thrown somewhere on the driver’s seat and his jeans and boxers were pulled down enough for him to pull his cock out, stroking the length of himself as you quickly shifted onto your hands and knees. 

His head was brushing against the roof of the car, the vehicle had probably already rocked a suspicious amount to the people around you and Eddie was certain that if somebody passed right now, they would get a direct view of his ass—but he didn’t care as he gripped your hips, pulling you back until your ass was flush against his pelvis and his cock was buried deep inside you.

“Shit,” he breathed out, his chin tucked against his chest as he watched the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock. He let out a whimpering noise when your walls clenched around him, squeezing him so tight he could have sworn he would’ve come instantly if he wasn’t using every ounce of self-control to hold himself back. “Feel like fuckin’ heaven, honey.”

“Please,” you whined, pushing back against him as your nails dug into the material of the seats. “You promised.” 

“I know, I know,” he cooed, that hint of the patronising tone lacing his words again and making you clench around him. “Gonna do what I promised, baby. Gonna fuck you dumb and make sure everybody in this drive-in knows it.” 

It shouldn’t have turned you on so much. It shouldn’t have made your stomach dip in desire. It shouldn’t have made your head spin with a kind of dizziness only Eddie Munson could bring. 

And yet, it did. 

And you were absolutely fucking shameless about it. You didn’t care what your patrons thought. You didn’t care if there were people there you knew and would see. You didn’t care about anything when Eddie was pounding into you from behind, your face squished against the car seat as he kept going and going and going. 

You didn’t care about drawing the attention of others as the car rocked with his movements, or the fact your hand pressed against the foggy window gave everyone a clear indication of what was happening. Not when the debauch noises of Eddie fucking you echoed through the car, the shameless sign of how much you loved this. 

You didn’t care about anything other than the bruising grip on your waist as he fucked your soaking pussy, as your walls clenched around him, as you moaned his name over and over and over until you felt white spots dotting your vision as you came around his cock. 

You could barely comprehend the world around as his fingers slipped into your mouth to muffle the whimpering moans you let out, to keep them just for himself as he thrusted one, two, three more times until he finally let himself go. You barely cared about anything else as you lazily sucked on his fingers, a low groan of appreciation sounding through the car as you felt him hunch over you, cooing at how well you did for him.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he pressed chaste kisses to your cheek, watching the way you blinked up at him as your tongue wrapped around his digits in your mouth. “God, you’re a fucking dream, baby.” 

“Hmmm,” you hummed, pleased with his response. 

You let out a huff of annoyance when he pulled his fingers from your mouth, but seemed happy enough that he showed no signs of moving from his spot just yet. Something about the weight of his body on top of you and his cock still buried deep inside you was oddly calming, and it wasn’t something you were willing to give up just yet.

“What are the chances Harrington never finds out we fucked in his car?” Eddie wondered out loud after a few beats of silence, causing you to let out a snort in response.

“Very, very low,” you murmured as you turned your head to the side so you could look up at your boyfriend. “I would recommend getting it dry cleaned. Maybe blessed by a priest.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “That’s a tad dramatic.”

“I can feel your cum dripping down my leg and onto the seats,” you bluntly pointed out, but your lips were still twitched upwards in a smirk. “I’d hardly say that’s me being dramatic.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie groaned as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses between words. “I’ll get it dry cleaned.”

“Good.”

“After a few more rounds.”

“Eddie!”

“What, baby? I have a few more fantasies I wanna play out and that dress isn’t helping,” he murmured, though you could feel his smirk against your skin. “If anything this is your fault.”

“Really?” You deadpanned. 

But the boy just flashed you an innocent smile, one that looked so sweet but you knew held a million untold, dirty promises in it.

.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

[moondustpugh]

Is It Over Now?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?

Author's Note: Part 5 is here! This is the last part I left off before I deleted the old blog, so I will be working on part 6 this week! Comments are always welcome! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: 18+, smutty-ish

Wordcount: 4.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

The sound of papers shuffling on the table and the low volume of the television behind you was the only sound echoing through the flat as you watched Sara sign all the last few paper works that she needed to do for her and Abby’s adoption. You decided to visit their place and help them out with everything they needed to prepare since Abby was busy at the art gallery. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was stay in your own place after the night of your mum’s birthday dinner. 

Funny how you were starting to also feel uncomfortable in your own flat. 

“So, when are you going to meet her?” You asked Sara. 

You studied the boxes that were stacking up around their flat. Abby and Sara had gone shopping for all the things they needed to make sure that the little girl they were adopting was going to be all settled and comfortable. When your eyes met Sara’s, you immediately saw her face beaming with excitement as she finished signing the papers in front of her. You knew this had been a long process for them, and they have been waiting for this answer. You couldn’t believe they

were finally almost at the end of it. 

“In a week.” Sara replied. “I’m so excited to meet her. The agency said that she’s only two years old, and her name is Elena.” 

“And she’s from the orphanage that you guys visited before?” You asked. 

“Yeah, poor thing.” Sara sighed. “Her parents passed away in a car accident just last year.”

Your eyes widened, “What happened?” 

“When she finally turned one, her parents decided to go out for a date night because it had been a while and going home, they got into a car accident. Her grandparents are too old to take care of her, and she doesn’t have any other family.” 

“Ohmygod.” You gasped softly, feeling your stomach drop. “But does her grandparents keep in contact?”

Sara nodded her head. “Yes, they would visit her, and we’ve met them. Her grandma is starting to forget a lot of things, and her grandpa could barely walk.” 

“That’s horrible, but I’m happy that she’s going to be in a good family.”

Sara leaned back on her chair, and you saw the hesitation in her eyes. It was almost like sadness and at the same time, a terrified look on her face. 

“What if I’m not going to be a good mother?” Sara asked. 

“Are you kidding?” You chuckled softly. “You’re going to be a great mother, and Abby will too. The both of you are such a good team already.”

That was the difference between you and Sara. She has her life together, and she knew what she wanted. It wasn’t like she didn’t have flaws either, but she was just better at all of this. Better at organizing her life, better at making decisions, and she knew the path she wanted for her life. You, on the other hand, didn’t really know what to do. You woke up everyday and just survived and hoped you would eventually find your way. That you would eventually stop being so terrified with life. 

“Thank you.” Sara smiled. “And thank you for always supporting me and Abby.”

“I’m always here for you.” You smiled, getting up from your chair to grab the both of you a drink. “It’s just the nerves that’s making you overthink about all of this, but I know that you will be an amazing mother.”

You handed her the glass of wine as you took a sip of yours. 

“C’mon. Why don’t we start setting up her room?” You smiled, setting down the glass of wine on the table before lifting up one of the boxes and walked over to Elena’s room. 

You couldn’t believe that during uni, you and Sara would just talk about this and who would have a family first and now, you were helping her set up the bedroom of her first child. It was so surreal. Taking the knife, you sliced through the tape that was on top of the box before opening it. 

“Do me a favor and please don’t spoil her.” Sara mentioned as the two of you read the instructions on how to set the bed up. 

You laughed softly and said, “Yeah, I’m not going to promise that.”

“Don’t give her something that she doesn’t need.” Sara argued. 

“Sara,” You tilted your head, giving her a look. “I’m the cool Aunt in this picture, I’m supposed to be the one who spoils her all the time, and you will get mad at me for doing that, but you’ll just roll your eyes and let me do it anyway.”

“Oh, is that so?” Sara laughed, throwing you one of the plush bunnies that was next to her. 

“Yes, that’s how it works.” You shrugged, “It’s the law.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Sara said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “They said that she’s really shy, but she’s so sweet once you get to know her.”

You smiled, picking up the screwdriver as you started putting the bed together. “You’re so great with your students, Sara. Now, you’re going to have your own child, and I know that you and Abby will love and take care of her.”

“Yeah, lately, I have been having second thoughts about this and maybe you were right. It’s just nerves. Even Abby tells me that.”

“It is. Even with Abby, I know she will be great. I’m really happy that you two are doing this and have found Elena because I know she deserves the world. You both are entering the next chapter of your lives.” 

“Thank you. We really are, and I couldn’t be more excited and happy about it.” Sara smiled, handing you the screws as the both of you put up the headboard of the bed. “What about you?”

You grunted, getting up from the floor and moved the bed in the corner of the room. “What about me?”

“How are you and Joe?”

You sighed and set your hands on your hips as you looked at the bed that the two of you just put together. Who knew you could do this with patience since you usually were frustrated whenever you put together a furniture. 

Maybe because your patience has been tested lately. 

“It’s the same thing every week.” You shook your head and watched Sara pick up the box with the bedsheets in it. “For some reason, he isn’t even paying attention to Ivy anymore.”

“What?!” Sara gasped, dropping the box on your feet.

“Ow!” 

“Sorry! Sorry…” Sara scrunched her face as she picked up the box that she dropped. “Why are you still fake dating him if he doesn’t want Ivy anymore?”

If only Sara knew how many times you have asked yourself that the past two weeks or so. You honestly didn’t know why, and you have been wanting to ask Joe, but he was never home during the week. You didn’t know what he was doing out there, and you kept telling yourself that he was with Ivy. That he was staying over at her house, but you didn’t even know if that was true too. Then, when the weekends came, you would try and talk to him but there were too many people around the both of you all the time. There was never a good time. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Honestly, I sort of want this to be over because sometimes, I feel like an idiot sitting there alone at the bar, while he made out with Ivy at the back.”

“He’s doing what?!” Sara’s eyes widened. 

“He hasn’t done it in a while when we go out during the weekends.”

Seriously, why were you even defending him?

“But he’s never home, so I figured he’s over there doing whatever he’s doing with her, and it still makes me feel like shit because even if all of this is fake, I’m still the girlfriend everyone sees.” 

You sighed and pulled up one of the chairs that was in the corner. “I’m still the girlfriend everyone sees and the girl who looks like an idiot, acting like she doesn’t know her boyfriend is basically kissing someone else at the back alley, while she’s sitting inside the pub alone.”

“Don’t you think it’s time to stop this?” Sara crossed her arms on her chest. “I feel like this has gone way too far.” 

Your silence was loud as Sara saw the hesitation in your eyes. Honestly, you weren’t even sure as to why you were hesitating because it was a simple thing, right? You weren’t comfortable about this anymore, so you should stop it. So, what was holding you back? Why were you okay with all of this even if it was making you feel like shit? 

“Unless…” Sara interrupted your thoughts. “There’s another reason why you don’t want this to be over.”

“No,” You shook your head, swallowing the last bit of pride you have left. “I just know that it will be over soon, so I just have to see through the end of it.”

“Okay.” Sara exhaled sharply, knowing she couldn’t convince you to stop this. “Well, maybe while Joe is busy with Ivy, you could try and go out there again? I haven’t seen you try with someone for a long time or even go to the pub and talk to someone.”

“I don’t know…” You shrugged. 

At this point, you were seriously questioning yourself as to why you were even hesitating over this suggestion. You would usually agree and go for it. It wasn’t like going out there was something new in your life. That was what you did before this whole plan happened. You would go to the pub, talk to someone, hook up with them sometimes but no strings attached. 

So, why were you hesitating? Was there a part of you that you sort of didn’t want to do that anymore? That you were over just hooking up with someone? That maybe you wanted to actually have a real relationship?

Maybe. 

If only you weren’t so terrified by the idea of it.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious. I just want you to go out there and see that there’s so much more than what you’re doing right now with Joe.” Sara added.

“Yeah, I know.” You murmured. “Thanks.”

Sara always knew what to say and even if you didn’t want to hear the truth, you were also glad that she was always there to say it to you with no hesitation. On your way home later that night, you sat in the tube and revisited the suggestion that Sara mentioned earlier. Going to a pub and talking to someone other than Joe was better, right? 

You gazed down at your phone that was sitting on your lap as it buzzed and a message from Joe appeared on the screen. 

Going home soon?

You couldn’t help but contemplate if he was asking you that question because he had plans to go see Ivy again, and he was about to drag you with him again or if it was something else. Staring at the text, you didn’t know if you should reply back or not. You didn’t even know if you wanted to see him tonight. You’ve been seeing him too much lately. Your phone buzzed again after a few minutes and another text from Joe appeared on your screen. 

I’m bored. Wanna hang? A movie and pizza? The usual.

The thought of it made your stomach twist and turn again in a good way, but it also made you want to distance yourself more with Joe. You haven’t done a movie and pizza on a Saturday night in a long time and if you were being honest, you sort of missed it. You missed when you two could just sit on the sofa and act like normal flatmates but now, you didn't even know anymore if you could act normal like before. It made you wish you would stop thinking like this as you scolded yourself internally to stop acting up because all of this was just an act, and it would be over soon. 

You wish it was over now. 

Then, your phone buzzed again and this time, it was a text from Abby. You opened the message and saw a screenshot of a post on Instagram where fans were saying that you and Joe were cute together and wondering who you were. A “mystery” girl was what they called you. You stared at the photo of you and Joe during the Dior event just talking by the bar and laughing. It was one of those moments that night where you felt normal with him. Moments where you felt like you didn’t have to pretend and just be yourself, and he was fine with it. He liked your jokes and laughed at them. It wasn’t even a conversation about Ivy or anything. It was just a normal conversation about the event and getting to know each other. 

Then, the sudden overwhelming feeling that washed over you made you exit the text and went back to Joe’s text message. Staring at it, you couldn’t make up your mind whether you should go home now and spend the rest of the night watching a movie and eating pizza with Joe, while these emotions inside of you slowly killed you, or listen to Sara’s suggestion and finally try to break out of this for once and go out there and meet someone new. 

Sorry. I’ll be home late. 

You sent the text to Joe as soon as you exited the tube. There was no way you were going home now and going back to Sara and Abby’s place was no option either. You were already here, and you thought maybe you should take Sara’s advice for once and go out there. Besides, it really has been a while since you went out and met some new people. Who knows, maybe you could kill this feeling that had been circling inside of you.

Walking down the street, you stopped by at one of the pubs that was near your flat and found the place busy. 

Perfect. 

You sat by the bar and ordered yourself a drink, your eyes scanning the room. Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be in their own little conversations. There wasn’t anyone you could just walk up and talk to. Your agenda for tonight was to talk to someone and maybe flirt a little. Even if part of you sort of didn’t want to, you wanted to prove to yourself that you were just too preoccupied with your agreement with Joe that was why you kept having these weird emotions inside of you lately. 

That was it. That was the only reason why. 

However, your little plan wasn’t going too well as you ordered yourself another drink later that night. You were just sitting at the bar alone, and you couldn’t help but sigh and scold yourself for being so pathetic.

Seriously, what were you even doing?

This whole plan was just stupid. 

“Getting your mind off of something?” An unfamiliar voice interrupted your thoughts. 

Just when you thought you were unlucky tonight, a handsome man that was sitting next to you had a small smile tugging on his lips. His piercing blue eyes sparkled as he took a sip of his beer. You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice he had sat next to you. 

You tilted your head, a flirty smile appeared on your face. “How’d you know that?”

The man shrugged, “I saw you since you walked in tonight, and you looked like you could use a friend. Unless… you are waiting for someone?”

You chuckled softly. “No, I’m not waiting for anyone. It’s just me.” 

“That’s perfect then. I’m Isaac.” The man held out his hand. 

You smiled, shaking his hand as you introduced yourself to him. Isaac was a nice name and maybe this was the universe telling you that Sara was right. You were in the right direction for taking up her advice for once. 

“So, how come a pretty girl like you is all alone here and looking in such a deep thought.” Isaac asked. 

“Oh.” You let out an awkward laugh. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Are you sure?”

Of course not. 

You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sure. Just zoning out, I guess.”

You could tell Isaac didn’t believe you, but you didn’t care because he wasn’t the solution to your problem, wasn’t? He was just a band aid.

You had one agenda tonight and that was to go out there again just like Sara had advised you to do. You need to go out there and meet new people and maybe find someone good for you. So, you sat there and listened to Isaac talk about himself. You tried your best to not frown the whole time because as much as you were trying hard to really pay attention, you were just bored. It wasn’t like he was a bad guy or anything because he seemed really nice and a good guy unlike the other men you usually meet at the pubs, but you were just not interested at all. 

So, instead, you flirted. 

You flirted to shut him up, and you couldn’t help but think if any of these people online posting about you were looking at you right now and knew what you have been doing with your life, they’d probably call you a slut. At this point, you didn’t care anymore. You were just living your life and those were just labels people tend to put on other people because they got nothing better to do. 

“Do you want to go outside? It’s sort of getting stuffy here.” You said, trailing your hand up to his arm. 

Isaac wasn’t hard to convince as his eyes stared at your hand on his arm before gazing back up at you and nodding his head. Taking your hand in his, he led you out the pub and towards the side of the building where no one could see the both of you. His lips immediately hungrily crashed onto yours as he kissed you. He pressed you against the wall as you let out a soft gasp, his lips trailing down your neck. Your eyes stared up at the night sky, stars twinkling above you as Isaac pulled you closer against him. His soft lips licked and sucked your neck softly, but your mind was somewhere else. You stared up at the night sky and wished on the stars that your feelings for Joe were going to be over soon. When Isaac’s lips found your jawline and then your lips again, you closed your eyes and kissed him back hungrily. 

“Let’s… Let’s go back to my flat.” You whispered, pulling away from him.

You didn’t need to say any more convincing words because Isaac immediately agreed as he took your hand in his and followed you down the street. Isaac had you close to his side the whole time, and you just hoped that Joe wasn’t awake by the time you arrived at your flat. Not that he wasn’t used to you bringing home a man in your flat but for some reason, you didn’t want him to know this time. 

It felt weird just thinking about going home with Isaac, and Joe seeing the two of you.

Not that you cared about his opinion or what he would feel.

Grabbing your keys from your coat pocket, you inserted it in the keyhole of your doorknob, smiling at Isaac as you unlocked the front door.

“Be quiet. My flatmate might be asleep. I don’t want to disturb him.” You whispered, entering your dark and quiet flat. 

Perfect. You thought.

Maybe Joe got bored without you and decided to go out and see Ivy. The thought of him being with her made your stomach turn again as you dragged Isaac down the hall and right before you could even open your bedroom door, Isaac grabbed you by the hips, turning you around and crashing his lips on yours. 

“Shh…” You giggled softly, reaching for the door and opening it as you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him inside your bedroom.

With his foot, Isaac kicked the door close behind him, gentle enough for it to not slam too hard and made a noise. His fingers started working on the buttons of your shirt as he gently pushed you down on the bed and towered over you. Isaac’s knees dug on the mattress on either side of you as you used your elbows to propped yourself up and watched him unbutton your blouse. Sliding your top off, you slid your hand behind his head, pulling him down for a deep and rough kiss. Isaac’s lips trailed down your jawline as you tugged on the hem of his shirt sliding it off of his broad shoulders. 

“Hmm…” You moaned softly, letting his lips trail down between your breasts. 

For a moment, you stared at your ceiling as Isaac sucked on the skin of your neck softly, letting another small gasp escape from you. You felt him smile through the kiss as he slid your bra off and sucked on your nipple, squeezing your other breast with his other hand. You couldn’t help but moan again, closing your eyes as he kissed you again deeply. 

Your mind was spinning as Isaac started unbuttoning your pants, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol that was running in your system or that your mind started playing tricks because as soon as you pulled away from the kiss and opened your eyes, the blur image of Joe staring right down at you was the only thing that you could see. It was almost like Isaac’s face had glitched in your brain and Joe’s face was now right there in front of you. His chocolate button eyes staring right into yours, and you felt that jar of butterflies open up in your stomach. 

Suddenly, you sobered up quickly. 

“Um…” You used both of your palms on his bare chest to push Isaac away from you. 

“Yea, sweetheart?” Isaac murmured, trying to kiss you on the lips again, but you had turned your head away from him. 

“Um…  hold on.” You slid yourself off your bed, grabbing your bra and blouse and immediately sliding it back on.

What the fuck was happening with you?

“What’s wrong?” Isaac stared at you with worried eyes. 

“I…” You exhaled a sharp breath, picking up Isaac’s clothes from the floor. “I think you should go.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

The poor man. 

It wasn’t him who was the problem. It was you.

If only he could understand what was going through your head right now, but you needed this to stop because what the fuck was that? What the fuck just happened? You didn’t even got the chance to answer him because you were shoving his clothes in his arms, shoved him out of your room and out the door. Isaac was barely putting on his shirt when you closed the door to his face and immediately slid your back on the door. 

“What the fuck?” You cursed under your breath, burying your face in your hands. 

This has never happened to you before. With anyone… ever.

You didn’t feel anything but frustration and confusion. You didn’t even realize how frustrated you were until your hands had slid off your face and your mascara had stained your palms. Tears were rolling down your cheeks because how could you feel this way? Joe only wanted Ivy and that was the plan in the first place. This whole emotional mess you were feeling wasn’t part of it. You were only playing a part. Acting. Pretending. 

That was it. 

You didn’t have the right to feel alone and insulted over Ivy’s friends’ opinion because you were only pretending. 

They didn’t know the real truth,  

You didn’t have the right to feel this way about Joe because all of this was just acting. All of this was fake. You never had to deal with emotions like these before, and you didn’t know what to do with them. You didn’t know if you were just getting carried away by the show that you and Joe kept putting on almost every weekend or all of this was now real.

At this point, jumping off of something tall would hurt less, honestly.

Wiping the mascara filled tears that were staining your cheeks, you slowly pulled your legs close to your chest, your arms wrapping around them as you laid your head on your knees. Even if you told yourself many times that you were fine, and you could do this, how come it still made you feel so alone? Why did it made you feel like shit? Why did you have to agree with this plan in the first place? You were such an idiot. Now look at you.

A godforsaken mess for someone whose eyes were only for one woman, and that woman wasn’t even you. 

This whole thing needed to be stopped. 

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name 

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn rpf #joe quinn rpf #joseph quinn fanfics #joe quinn fanfics #is it over now? #moondustpugh #part five

[internet-ink]

Would you write a fic where LW and reader have been best friends for years, both play for arsenal. They’ve both been in relationships until this year. Reader thinks she’s straight until she realises she’s in love with her best friend

Confessions

Thank you for the request anon!

I haven’t wrote anything like this before but I hope you enjoy it :)

This past year had been a difficult one. It started out great - I was with a wonderful guy, I was doing well at Arsenal, and I had my best friends surrounding me.

Then it all went to shit.

In the space of a week I had caught my boyfriend in his bed with another girl and my childhood dog had passed away.

This was ten months ago and now there was another issue arising. My landlord had decided that now would be a great time to evict me. One night I had a few people round and apparently someone had complained about the noise. He said that he had past complaints about the noise from my flat which just wasn’t true but I really couldn’t be bothered to argue with him.

I had nine days to find a new place to live. Originally I had planned to just find another place to rent, however with the days going by and having no luck finding anything I was beginning to worry.

“Y/N! Pass the fucking ball!” Katie shouted, interrupting my thoughts. I snapped out of my day dream and quickly passed the ball to her.

“Sorry.” I replied.

She ran over to me and put her hands on her hips in a sort of ‘you better tell me what’s going on’ way.

With a sigh, my shoulders deflated as my mind went back to all the issues in my life. “I’m just stressing about this whole finding a place to live thing. You’d think in a big city like London there’d be at least somewhere that was available. But no…anything that is available is just ridiculously expensive and out of my budget. Like what am I meant to do? Live on the streets? If my stu-”

“You could stay with me?” A voice from behind me interrupted my rambling, and a smile took over my face as I saw it was Leah.

Leah and I had been close friends since I joined Arsenal three years ago, I mean we were literally inseparable from the first day of training. She was there for me through everything that had happened this year and I was there for her while she was going through her break up with Jordan.

Up until a couple of months ago everything was normal between us but then I started to get butterflies whenever she gave me a hug which then turned into feeling awkward whenever she’d hold my hand - everything that felt normal before now turned me into a complete mess. I had come to the realisation last month that I was in love with her…with Leah.

“Uhh…em. Do you have the room?” I stuttered, mentally kicking myself for acting so awkward around her.

“Yeah, Jordan moved out a couple of months ago so I’ve got a spare room.” She shrugged although I could still see that the mention of her ex-girlfriend’s name hurt her.

I scratched the back of my neck out of awkwardness before replying. “Only if you’re sure.” I said while scrunching my face up.

“Y/N we’ve been best friends for years, of course I’m sure.” She smiled. My heart sunk at the words ‘best friends’. That was all we would ever be and it hurt to think of that.

“Okay well if you insist.” I giggled.

———

“Is that all you’ve got?” Leah asked after I brought all the boxes with my stuff from my car and into my new house. There was a significantly smaller amount of things with me now than what Leah was used to seeing at my old place.

“Uh yeah, I donated some stuff. Decided to start over.” I laughed. Leah took a box and carried it into my new room, which was across the hall from hers.

“Well this is you. Feel free to decorate obviously…just don’t go knocking down any walls.” She deadpanned making me uncomfortable before she started to laugh at me. Leah was always like this.

With a roll of my eyes, I started to unpack the first of my boxes. As I turned to place my fake bonsai tree on the bedside table I noticed Leah staring at me with a small smile on her face, snapping out of it when she noticed I was looking at her.

“Takeaway pizza for dinner?” She asked.

“Yup. Plain cheese?” I replied. She nodded with a chuckle before turning to leave the room.

I spent the next hour or so unpacking everything and decorating the once plain room. It felt weird knowing that this room once belonged to her ex, I wasn’t entirely sure if they did sleep in the same bed while they were together, but I did know that this room was Jordan’s from the previous times I had come over. It just never once occurred to me that I would be living here with the girl that I had a fat crush on. How was I going to survive this? How would I manage if Leah ever brought home another girl or guy? I didn’t know how to feel.

“Y/N! Pizza’s here!” Leah called up to me from downstairs. I sighed to shake the doubts from my head before walking down to where Leah was waiting in the living room with one big box of pizza.

With a confused look on my face I opened the box, my confusion only growing as I confirmed that there was indeed only one pizza. “Where’s the other one?” I asked.

“Oh, I only ordered one. I thought we could share.” She shrugged as she sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her, telling me to sit down.

My heart fluttered at the idea of sharing a pizza with her. “Cool. Sounds good.” I smiled, internally groaning at how weird I sounded. Leah returned a small smile before reaching over to take a slice.

Pull yourself together, it’s a pizza for Gods sake.

“You okay?” She asked with her hand covering her mouth to prevent the food from showing. I nodded before taking the seat that she had previously pointed at.

“Sorry, just in my own head.” I giggled as I grabbed a smaller slice than the one Leah had, letting out a small moan at the taste of it. Leah whipped her head to look at me with wide eyes as I blushed at the thought that I had actually done that out loud. “I’m so sorry, but holy shit where do you get this? This tastes better than most pizzas I’ve ate.” I exclaimed.

Leah laughed before shaking her head and wiping her hands with a napkin. “This chippy down the road. Discovered it when I was drunk and I’ve been loyal ever since. I can’t say I’ve ever moaned at the taste though.” She spoke, still laughing her head off. I rolled my eyes before taking another slice.

“Shut uppp.” I groaned. “It just slipped out.” I sighed, still feeling rather embarrassed about the whole situation. “Wait…you kept this delicacy from me this whole time?” I questioned, my mood now going from extreme embarrassment to confusion and slight betrayal.

“Guilty.” She put her hands up like she had been caught red handed before the both of us folded into each other in laughter. During our antics, Leah’s hand made its way onto the top of my thigh, making my breath hitch and my laughter halt. As her laughter stopped too, I looked up to see that she was already staring at me with a nervous look on her face and her eyes half closed, focusing on my lips.

“Leah?” I whispered. The tension in the room grew as the distance between us shrunk until I could feel her warm breath on my lips. My heart rate rapidly increasing as her eyes fully closed and her lips moved closer so that they were millimetres away from my own, my chest finally felt like it exploded as I finally felt the weight of Leah’s lips on mine.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around the back of my neck as her tongue licked my bottom lip, sighing as I opened my mouth wider and felt her consume me. We broke apart as the need for oxygen overcame us.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

I panted as Leah looked intensely into my eyes, making me feel more nervous than I had ever felt. “Are you alright?” I finally asked as she had been quiet for quite some time.

She leant forward so that her elbows were resting on her knees and her head was in her hands. Feeling immediately off, I reached forward with her and placed a comforting hand on the back of her shoulder.

In all honesty I thought it would’ve been me that was like this if we ever kissed.

“What was that?” She finally asked, leaning back into the couch and staring at me again. I felt my heart sink as she asked that. She sounded annoyed.

“A kiss.” I deadpanned.

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. I let out a breath as I mentally prepared myself for the possible rejection that could come from my next statement.

“I like you.” I replied, now looking anywhere but Leah as I didn’t want to see the current look on her face. “No…I love you. I have for awhile - well, a couple of months anyway.” I continued.

“Really?”

I frowned as I stared into the wall behind Leah. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” I said.

As I was getting up, a hand on my knee prevented me from moving anywhere. I took a deep breath as I looked at Leah, not seeing the disgusted face I though I would, in fact she had a huge grin on her face.

“I love you too.” She stated, making my world feel like it crumbled. She actually liked me back? I sat back down next to her and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Really?” I replied.

She laughed and leant in closer to me. “Of course I do, I thought I made it obvious but maybe not? Ever since that night when you held me while I was drunk crying, not complaining once about the snot that I had gotten on your favourite jumper. I love you, Y/N.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing someone has ever said to me.” I smiled, noticing the crinkles on her nose as she smiled and the small freckles that dotted her nose.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

#fanfic #arsenal #imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #lgbtqia #oneshot #request #wlw post #womens football #katie mccabe #romance #confession #leah williamson one shot #foorball #woso soccer #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

one - green lights and red stains

TWO MONTHS EARLIER:

I was at my desk in Big Sky Country, Montana’s sheriff’s department, papers strewn over the desk in a similar fashion as they were at home. Making small mountains and also making me rather sympathetic for the trees who suffered just to have me keep ‘em all like this on another plank of wood on more sticks of wood. However, I couldn’t bring myself to clean them, not today. As well as that, the acting sheriff had made his speech today, and I knew if he’d talk to me, I wouldn’t make a great impression, not with all this mess.

“Ain’t this a sight?” I looked up to see none other than Sheriff Arlen, standing in front of me, his stance wide set as he peered at my scribblings which varied between neat and scrawling handwriting. I jolted a little, panic striking through me as I began to shuffle my files into a more orderly pile, but he held out his hand to put me at ease. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Truth be told, I’m not the most organised either.”

In response, I stood up laughing a bit as I ran my hand through my hair, the action not as smooth and easygoing as I hoped as my index encountered a knot in my raven hair which I quickly untangled. “Well, I’m afraid this is what you’ll be seein’ every day.” I gestured down in circular motions to the messy piles.

“Then I’m lookin’ forward to it.” He put out his hand with a broad grin, green eyes twinkling along with his startlingly white teeth. He had an air of giddy charm and confidence around him that I couldn’t help but crack a smile to. “Beau Arlen.”

“Isabelle Joyner.” I replied, shaking his hand firmly. His grip was strong, but comforting in a sense.

“Well, darlin’, I’ve heard some good things about you from Jenny Hoyt, or Hoyt, as she wants me to call her.” Beau chuckled at the thought, glancing towards Jenny, who was in conversation with Poppernak. “She’s a real firecracker.”

“That’s Jenny for you.” I smiled, nodding resignedly and also flicking my eyes to her. “She knows me better than anyone; we’ve been best friends for as long as I remember.” Then I spotted the uncertainty in his eyes as he once more looked at Jenny, and I laughed a bit. “She’ll warm up to you. She’s just a bit miffed, y’know, didn’t get put as acting Sheriff.”

“I learnt that the easy way and the hard way.” He snickered slightly, his shoulders shrugging. “Well, it’s a lesson well learnt.”

“Damn straight.” I grinned, putting my hands in my pockets, and we fell silent for a moment before it got a bit uncomfortable. “Anyway, welcome to Big Sky. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“I goddamn hope so.”

NOW:

“Liv, sweetie?” I called up the stairs, my eyes darting back to the pancake cooking on the stove. It was half past eight in the morning, and I needed to get Olivia, my niece, to her stepfather’s house. Her mother - my sister - had been… lost. In a murder, six years back, but they’d never found who’d done it. In her will, she’d given custody of Olivia to me, that the court had approved. Her stepfather, Markham, was not happy, but there was little he could do.

“Yeah?” Came her sleepy voice from upstairs, making me laugh quietly. She’d grown so much since I got her as a timid nine year old. Now she was sixteen in a week and the most beautiful girl I’d ever see. She was my baby girl at this point, and I couldn’t be prouder.

“I’ve got work, hon, and I’m makin’ pancakes!” I heard a brief pause, then a scramble to get up. I smiled knowingly, returning to the pancake as the thunder of footsteps down the stairs signalled her arrival. Her blonde hair bounced in stunning curls and her brown eyes flashed excitedly, even though they were riddled with sleep. I passed her a plate of pancakes stacked up, shaking the whipped cream. “Mornin’, gumdrop.” I grinned cheerily. “What would you like on your pancakes, hm?”

“Whipped cream, syrup, and raspberries.” She replied instantly, then returned my smile. “And good morning, auntie.” Olivia gave me a bear hug, which I returned gladly, kissing her hair before letting her go with a pat on the back.

“Good choice.” I squirmed the whipped cream in a circle, grabbing the syrup bottle and drizzling it generously before passing her a bowl of freshly washed raspberries so she could knock herself out, also sliding her a fork and knife. “Dig in.”

“Hello, there!” I heard Jenny call, the door opening. Jenny and Cassie walked in with big smiles on their faces, especially so when they found the combination of Olivia and pancakes. “Hope you don’t mind, we just used the spare key under the deco rock.”

“And I’m glad we did, because why weren’t we invited to the party?” Cassie faux-gasped as she gestured to the pancakes.

“Elle, explain yourself.” Jenny chastised, raising an eyebrow at me, but when I passed them each a plate of pancakes, they melted. “Ok, no explanation needed.”

“Yep, we’re all good now, no beef here.” Cassie agreed, dolloping whipped cream on hers before passing the canister to Jenny. “Also, hi, Olivia.”

“Hey, Cassie.” Liv waved with a smile and a mouthful of pancake. “Hi, Jenny.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Jenny grinned, waving before digging into the pancakes.

“Never knew I’d be catering for four today.” I chuckled, turning off the stove and embellishing my own plate of pancakes, making it even more of a sugar rush than it already was.

“Well, now we get to boast to Beau about what we got cooked.” She replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s always returnin’ with clean dishes of what Denise cooked, so I guess we could clap back a little.”

“His favourite deputy cooked us pancakes and not him.” Cassie giggled, making me roll my eyes. These two.

“Shut up. Both of you.” I snickered, trying to remain stern. “If Sheriff Arlen wants pancakes, he can come over and I can make him some pancakes, it’s not exclusive.”

“And here I thought we were special.”

“Aw, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“She did.” Olivia giggled.

“Yeah, she did.” Jenny gave me a look before we all burst out into laughter. We spent a bit of time chatting as we finished our pancakes, telling Olivia the ups and downs of our latest solved case and what movie we wanted for movie night this week. When we were done, I picked up my keys, jangling them.

“Olivia, time to go.” I smiled, but Cassie put her hand on my arm with a smile.

“I’ll drop her off.” She chuckled, holding up her own keys. “I know where Mark lives, and it’s on my way.

“You’re not exactly the most civil with the guy.”

“That’s cause he’s an ass, but I’ll try my best.”

We engaged in a staring contest for five seconds, until I gave in, nodding in defeat. “Fine. But if I get a call from my brother in law-”

“You won’t!” She raised her hands in surrender. “I promise. Now, you and Jenny need to get to work before Beau rings you up.”

“God forbid he does.” I joked.

“C’mon, he hasn’t had the heart to tell you off after you found the hostages a few weeks ago, one of them happening to be his daughter. Another Darlene.” Jenny teased, nudging me playfully.

“You two are really keen on setting us up, hm?” I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head. “You know I’m not that keen on dating. Not after…” I trailed off with a frown. It was a sore memory, one that ended with me waking up at the bar with five empty shot glasses and a bill with far more drinks than I’d usually take.

“After Harry.” She sighed, patting my shoulder. “He wasn’t your fault. After all, he did the deed.”

“He doesn’t know what he lost.” Cassie added sympathetically. “The ass.”

“I wanna kick him in the nuts.” Olivia added, making us all raise an eyebrow.

“That’s fair.”

“And on all of our minds.” Jenny grinned.

“I can’t even be mad.” I sighed, then kissed Olivia’s forehead. “Be good, ok? If I get a good report, I’ll make you an ice cream sundae tonight.” As Cassie and Jenny opened their mouths to speak, I held up a finger. “You guys get one too.”

I walked into the sheriff’s department with Jenny, and the first person we saw was Beau Arlen himself. “Well, ain’t it my favourite deputies?” He sauntered over with that charming grin of his, looking between us. “Hoyt.”

“Beau.” Jenny smiled.

“Sheriff.” I chuckled, running my hand through my hair.

“C’mon, Belle, call me Beau.” Beau chuckled, gesturing to himself. “No formalities here.” The statement made me laugh, but I shook my head, looking down at my feet before back up into those twinkly green eyes.

“I’ll try my best, Sheriff.” I teased with a grin, then took a sharp breath in, looking around. “Any cases today?”

“A missing person’s case.” Beau’s expression changed slightly as he mentioned it. “Little girl named Harriet Brown, she was out playing in the front yard, parents were arguin’, when they come out, girl’s gone.”

“My god.” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “We should get on the case, and quick.” I pouted slightly, sucking in air through my teeth. “Any leads? License plate? Footage? Maybe someone who has a grudge?”

“Closest to a match we have as an enemy is the girl’s stepfather, Will Brown. And by parents arguing, I mean the birth father and mother arguin’.”

“Stepfather, what, lays claim to the kid?” I asked, concerned. I knew what that was like all too well (and by that I mean the outskirts of those feelings), and if that was the case…

“Possibly. He’s the only recent frequent visitor.” Beau frowned at the look on my face, tilting his head a little in curiosity. “You look a lil’ green around the gills there, Deputy. You doin’ ok?”

I shared a look with Jenny, who subtly patted my wrist, signalling me to speak up. I jolted out of my thoughts, nodding and putting on a smile that I felt didn’t quite reach my eyes. “‘Course, Sheriff. I’m always ok.”

“You sure?”

“Deadly.”

Beau looked at me for a bit, trying to gauge my reaction, before nodding resignedly and patting me on the shoulder with a small smile. “A’ight. But if anythin’ comes to mind, do tell.”

“Gotcha.” I nodded, my blue eyes looking into his green ones. After I’d met Beau on his first day as acting sheriff, he’d understood me. He knew I was raising Olivia, albeit had never met her, and related to that with his own little girl. Emily was an angel, and I guess I became more of one after he found me getting along well with someone who was his world. As well as that, after the incident with Buck Barnes, I’d managed to find the hostages, including Darlene and Emily, getting them out.

Ever since then, it’s like he treats me as if I’m God’s gift to him. I was just doin’ my job.

I breathed in, then released a deep on through my mouth. “Let’s hit the house, Jen.”

“You got it, Elle.” Jenny smiled. I picked up my jacket, adjusting the photo of my sister and I on my desk as I put it on with a sad smile.

“I miss ya, Lucy. Truly.”

I was in Beau’s truck, the landscape flying by as we made our way to the Brown’s house. The atmosphere was uncomfortably silent - damn the awkwardness of social interactions sometimes - but somehow Beau made coping with silence look easier than it felt. He wore an easy smile, waffling on about fishing with a charmingly boyish look in his eyes that I’d come to recognise and find adorable.

“While I love talking and yapping about fish to the point your ears fall off, Belle, but, uh, don’t you wanna get that?” I was snapped out of my reverie, finding that my ringtone was playing with the name Dean flashing on my screen over the green circle of light representing the button to accept the call, which I’d gladly do.

“Oh! Yeah, that’s right.” My face lit up as I pressed the ‘accept’ button, bringing the phone to my ear. “Dean, hey!”

‘Isa, hi.’ I heard a cheery voice from the other end. This was Olivia’s birth father, Dean Barlowe, who I preferred in spades to Markham Leeds. I never understood why Lucy and Dean had split up in the first place, since Dean was the best father I’d ask for where Liv is concerned. We hadn’t had contact in months, but this was a pleasant surprise. ‘How’ve you been?’

“Oh, now I feel brilliant.” I laughed, looking out the window. “How about you? It’s been goddamn months, I’ve been dyin’ for a call.”

‘Well, I’m feeling great now too. It’s always nice to talk to you. A familiar face.’

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” I nodded with a happy sigh. “Are you holding up ok? After… Lucy? It’s been a while, but it hit you pretty hard too.”

‘Doing better, if that counts.’ I heard a pause on the other end. ‘Hey, do you think Liv would mind if I pop over for a visit in a week’s time?’

“For her birthday, right?”

‘Yeah. Mark wouldn’t be too mad, right?’

“Who gives a damn about Markham, just come over, ok?” I smiled, and I could practically hear his own relieved one on the other end of the line. “Liv’s gonna love the surprise, don’t you worry.”

‘You know exactly what to say to soothe my nerves, don’t you?’

“Hey, it’s nothin’. Just being a dutiful sister in law.” I saw an exit sign that said we were almost at the house, so I decided to wrap it up. “Hey, uh, Dean, I’m about to start working a case, so I’ll chat later.”

‘Ah, right. Thanks, Isa. Bye.’

“Bye.” I cut the call, and found Beau smirking at me, his eyebrow raised slightly. “What?”

“You seem real chummy with this Dean fella.” He snickered knowingly, but I shook my head rapidly.

“No, no, no. He’s my brother in law.”

“Wait, this is the ex-husband of your late sister?” Beau nodded approvingly. “By the way you’re talkin’ to him, he seems like he’s got his name written in your good books with sparkly gold ink. Unlike Mark.”

“Well, Mark’s an ass.”

“Markham is an ass.”

Beau, Jenny and I were flicking through the security tapes of the Brown house the day their little girl Harriet was kidnapped. “Look, there.” I pointed to the screen, where a man was approaching. “It’s our stepfather.”

“Damn straight.” Beau nodded, leaning forward to ID the guy’s face. “Yep, that’s him. And he just scooped the girl up gave her a lollipop and high-tailed it.”

“We need to get this girl back.” Jenny sighed, her expression pensive as she peered at the screen.

“We got an idea on where she could be taken?”

“Possibly his cabin. Witness accounts show that he’s been buyin’ a lot of bedding, more than you’d need.” I frowned, then stood up. “We need to bust this guy and fast.” I didn’t know exactly why, but this was pissing me off. A stepfather, kidnap his own stepdaughter.

“Let’s bust a crooked stepfather.” Jenny got up, and so did we, heading out the door, running to our cars as Jenny texted me the address, which I put into Beau’s GPS. We quickly got in, and Beau floored it.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.” We got out at the same time as Jenny, making our way across the front yard before I tried the handle of the door, finding it locked. I nodded to Beau, who reared up and kicked the door open, all of us putting up our guns as we stormed the house. Jenny went to check the kitchen and living room, Beau heading upstairs while I took the basement. I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @nancymcl @hobby27

Preview of Chapter Two

#beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen #beau #big sky #cassie dewell #jenny hoyt #beau arlen fanfic

[headfullofpresley]

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4K

Summary: After doing Vogue's “Life in Looks” and reminiscing on your life with Elvis and Caroline, your late husband makes sure you and your daughter know he's still around.

Warning(s): life after losing a spouse, lil bit angsty, inaccurate timelines etc, doesn't follow timelines of other fics including Caroline, set in the late 90s bc i felt like it (just pretend life in looks is on tv or smth lol), reminiscing about a deceased spouse, flashback, bit of spiritual stuff (i still wanted him to be in this lol ☻), Elvis' death is not described here or whatsoever.

A/N: so, i usually never write about elvis not being among us anymore but ofc... i got carried away. the ending is kinda silly, but i thought it was cute. this was requested by my dear @rosepresley and even though it turned out a little different, i hope you'll still enjoy it, love! <3

masterlist

While your husband was known to the world as The King and many other titles, to you he was just Elvis.

Even though the anniversary of his death ticked on twenty years now and you had given the loss a place, there wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about him or didn’t miss him.

Caroline was only nine when her father passed and even though nobody would ever forget him, you and your now twenty nine year old daughter worked hard to keep his legacy alive.

While still living at Graceland, which felt a lot emptier without your husband there, you’d make sure events would be held on the property which fans could be a part of – the Christmas lights ceremony during the holidays, sometimes even small concerts held for charities right in your front yard. At times, fans would still linger outside the gates–mostly on the day he had passed or during his birthday week–and you could spend hours out there talking to them.

While you weren’t always happy with the lack of privacy when being out with Elvis or having fans outside your house in the dead of the night, you felt like you owed the attention to them now. You were aware that you didn’t, but these were the people that loved when you talked about the man they looked up to – probably more than anyone.

Aside from that, you were still being asked for interviews and press as well. You loved talking about Elvis and your life with him, but you were still careful as to who exactly you told those stories to – you had declined enough interviews and TV specials in the past, as did Caroline, because you were both aware how the media could twist your words and make up their own story which they knew would sell better.

When Vogue asked you for their ‘Life in Looks’ series, you were doubtful at first. This meant you’d have to talk more so about yourself rather than Elvis, but Caroline reminded you how much you loved fashion and Vogue in particular. You had a trusty subscription of the magazine, getting most of your inspiration from it when it came to your sense of style. Your daughter always assured you that it would be okay for you to talk about yourself rather than about Daddy only and you knew she was right.

Despite your entire life having revolved, and still revolving, around Elvis, you were still your own person.

He would want you to do this, especially since he made big fashion statements himself back in the day and he loved dressing you up and picking out your outfits for you.

 

 

“Just pretend we’re not here, mrs. Presley. Take all the time you need,” one of the editors smiled at you as she stood besides the camera, another girl with a Vogue lanyard around her neck placing a big white photobook in front of you. “We’ve included fifteen looks for the day but we have more pictures at hand, so if you don’t feel comfortable telling about some, we can change them up a little,”

You smiled brightly, nodding your head as you let one of the stylists fix a lock of your hair, making sure it laid perfectly over your shoulder. You knew what to do because you weren’t foreign to the concept and had seen other people doing it, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Caroline stood on the side, putting her thumbs up as she smiled brightly – ever the supportive daughter.

You chuckled softly and shot her a wink, crossing your legs under the table you were sat at as you looked at the camera. As you got the cue they were rolling, you planted a bright smile on your face, manicured nails tracing the corners of the book in front of you.

“Hi Vogue, I’m Y/N Presley and this is my Life in Looks,” you told the camera happily, although making sure not to overdo your enthusiasm.

You continued on as you were told to do, knowing that they could cut and edit the taping it was meant to be shown to the public.

You opened the book, your smile growing a little as the first picture was of you being taken out on your first date with Elvis – he wasn’t shown in the picture, because this was mostly about you and the outfit you were wearing in the picture.

“The hair,” you pointed out, laughing softly as you tapped your nail against your very extravagant hairdo. It was all high and teased, and very out there. “This was in 1960, during our first date at the fair. He rented out the place like he usually did and I remember the air being so humid, even at night, I was not having a good time with this much hair,” you chuckled, remembering how you’d complain to Elvis how you wished you would’ve kept your hair down.

He assured you you looked gorgeous, even with the sheen of sweat on your forehead. You had known Elvis since before he served in the army, so you weren’t ashamed when he pointed it out. Before he became the love of your life, he was your best friend first.

“This little dress came out of my very own closet. I don’t even think it was a brand, but I was obsessed,” you giggled, looking at the camera. Sneakily catching Caroline’s eye, a smirk tugged at your lips. “She doesn’t like me saying this, but Caroline wore this dress on the first date she went on,” you whispered and your daughter gasped soundlessly, muffling a chuckle in the palm of her hand.

You smiled happily as you turned the page, talking the viewers through a few more pictures that were taken of you at the airport and so on, reminiscing happily about the day it was taken and about what you were wearing. Even though this interview was specifically cathered to you, you still talked about Elvis during pretty much every picture but you didn’t care – and neither did the crew.

This man had been your entire life. The only man you had ever been with. How could you not talk about him?

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned the page and looked right at a wedding picture of you and Elvis.

“Oh, this was such a big day for us. Our wedding day,” you smiled lovingly at the camera before looking back down, your finger tracing Elvis’ face in the picture. The camera above your head made sure to catch it. “Charlie Hodge, who as you all might know worked for Elvis, went with me to go dress shopping because people would recognize me going into stores and then they’d find out there would be a wedding,” you laughed softly, looking at the camera as you placed your hands neatly on the table underneath the book. “I put on a little disguise and me and Charlie pretended to be the ones getting married – nobody recognized us,”

Caroline’s cheeks were aching with how big she was smiling, her hands clutched firmly against her chest. She always loved hearing you talk about your life with her father before the time she was born and she could see how much you were enjoying it.

“I picked this dress because it was very lightweight and feminine, and it matched perfectly with Elvis’ suit,” you looked at the picture again, smiling fondly at the smiling face of your husband in the picture before turning the page once more.

 

After talking about your honeymoon for a little bit, Caroline knew what was coming and she giggled softly as she watched you pout at the camera, tapping the picture of you and Elvis while holding little baby Caroline in your arms. It was taken only a few hours after you had given birth, but dressed in a pink dress and your hair teased to perfection, it looked far from a woman who had nearly broke her husband’s hand hours before.

“Look at that face, that’s a happy dad,” you grinned as you pointed out Elvis’ face, who was smiling cutely as he looked at Caroline in your arms while you sat on the bed. “He couldn’t believe he had a child and you can clearly see that on his face. I think a lot of men are like this, but he was afraid to hold her – terrified. I was never allowed to leave his side when she’d be in his arms because he was so scared that he’d drop her,” you laughed, the memories flashing before your eyes.

 

“El, you won’t hurt her, I promise you,” you laughed as you sat on your knees on the bed, baby Caroline sleeping safe and sound in your arms, Elvis propped up against the headboard of the bed.

He was in his underwear, wanting to try the method of holding his baby girl against his bare chest because he read in one of your parenting books that it’d help to steady the bond between child and father.

You had forgotten about the books long ago, because as soon as you held Caroline in your arms for the first time, motherhood came natural to you. Elvis would read them every night in bed, because he wanted to make sure to become the picture perfect father.

You didn’t give him time to back out of it, moving closer to him on your knees in a slow pace as you handed Caroline to him, making sure to put her in a supported position. He placed a gentle hand under her head, his other on her tiny back as she laid comfortably in his arms, pressed against his chest.

The room was just the right temperature but you could see that the baby who was only wearing a diaper immediately enjoyed the warmth radiating off Elvis’ chest when their skins touched. She bawled her tiny hands into fists before sprawling her little fingers, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Stay with me, honey,” he told you with a soft hint of panic on his tongue, making sure you wouldn’t leave his side as he held Caroline.

You laughed softly and nodded, sinking further in the mattress as you mimicked his position and sat next to him. You smiled down at your daughter as her eyes found Elvis’, a goofy smile spreading across her face.

“She likes this,” you told him, gently leaning your head against his upper arm, your fingertips ghosting over Caroline’s forehead. “I think the rhythm of your heart calms her down,” you pointed out in a whisper, you and Elvis watching as the little girl in his arms stared up at her father, her tiny chest heaving up and down slowly.

“She’s so pretty,” he whispered lowly, afraid the vibrations of his voice if he spoke any louder would scare his daughter. Moving his arm a little lower so she rested on just one arm, he brought his other hand to her face, feather light fingertip trailing down her nose. “Your nose,”

You chuckled softly at the way Caroline’s smile widened because of his touches, her toothless gums on full display. Elvis laughed softly, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can you believe we made… this?”

“Hmmhmm. Because she has your mouth,” you laughed softly, kissing his shoulder. “I bet she’ll be just as stubborn as you,”

He feigned a gasp, shoulders shaking a little as he laughed – he was about to comment that she’d definitely get the stubborness from you, but as Caroline giggled right along with the two of you, all he could do was stare at her with fond eyes.

Slowly but surely, Elvis allowed you to do your own thing whenever he’d hold her. His favorite spot was always in the bed, because that way he was absolutely sure nothing could happen to her.

Nothing ever did happen to her whenever he was holding her though, whenever in or out the bed, and to you he was a damn good father.

A natural, like you – but he never believed those words no matter how many times you’d tell him.

 

Caroline watched you proudly the entire time, talking about your life with her and her father, and how your own sense of style had changed throughout the years. Although Elvis loved picking out things for you to wear, you developed a big interest in fashion and design as you got older and he loved whenever you’d wear something that you designed yourself.

Your style was similar to his – the two of you always matched perfectly, looking sophisticated but still out there, turning heads. The two of you were always comfortable around each other, but not so comfortable it would turn sloppy.

There were never days where you would be lounging around the house in pajamas for an entire day. Elvis loved to dress up on any occasion, even when not leaving the house, and so did you.

On Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you’d both go all out, putting on your best fits because that’s when you felt most confident. And to the both of you, that was one of the best feelings in the world.

There weren’t much pictures of you and Elvis with Caroline when she was young because that’s something both you and your husband wanted to keep private. You did allow the crew to put a picture of Caroline’s 6th birthday in the book in front of you, because it was one of your favorites – you actually had it framed on your bedside table.

“See, this is Care’s 6th birthday and even though it was only a child’s birthday party, we were dressed like we were going to the fanciest place in town,” you told the camera, laughing softly. Elvis was in all black except for the white collar that was popped up, velvet trench coat adorning his frame. You and Caroline wore matching dresses – white ruffled poet shirts underneath a hand beaded mid length shift dress, the pattern on it throwing you right back into the 70s because of the small flowers on it. “But that was just.. our style. And Elvis loved dressing up Caroline – he loved it when she matched with us, no matter what the occasion was,”

You shot a sneaky wink Caroline’s way, who was soundlessly gasping for a breath of air as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She loved talking about Elvis as much as you did and she was able to without breaking down because it had been so many years, but the love she felt for her father was unexplainable.

Untouchable.

Their bond had always been extremely strong and even after his passing, that never faded. If anything, it only heightened. As she grew older, she was able to understand him better and see him through different eyes and while Caroline realised her father wasn’t perfect, the amount of love she carried toward him would always be there and it would always be hers.

She smiled at you, blowing you a kiss which made your smile widen – you continued on like nothing happened as you spoke to the camera, hoping your voice wasn’t giving away the thickness you felt forming in your throat.

 

While you could honestly speak about your husband for hours, the interview had to come to an end and you were kind of glad it did. All you wanted to do now was fly back to Memphis and spend time in the home that belonged to you and your husband. You were still professional though, talking a little with the crew and thanking everyone before you left the building.

The flight from New York to Memphis was five hours, but on the private plane time flew by fast, which you were thankful for. Despite Caroline not living at Graceland anymore, she decided to stay the night because she could see how emotional today had made you.

“Do you regret doing the interview? Was it too much?” Caroline asked softly as she laid in your bed, looking at you with a soft smile when you slipped under the covers in Elvis’ spot. You hadn’t slept on your own side since the day he passed.

“No, not at all. I love Vogue and I feel honored they asked me,” you smiled as you sat against the headboard, Caroline turning on her side to plant her head in the palm of her hand. “Seeing all the pictures just brought back a lot of memories, more than I thought they would,”

Your daughter smiled, reaching out her hand to you. You slipped your hand in hers, sighing deeply.

“Good ones I hope?”

“Ofcourse. Always good ones,” you told her with a nod of your head, kissing the back of her hand before squeezing it. “Your father and I had our lows as well, but even those memories are dear to me. He really was one of a kind, Care,”

The blonde next to you crawled closer to you, sitting up against the bed as well as she released your hand and linked her arm through yours instead, putting her head on your shoulder.

“He really was,” she whispered, looking at the wedding ring that still sat prettily on your hand. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

“Knowing your father, he’s probably right here with us right now,” you laughed softly, looking at Caroline as she raised her head to look at you with wide eyes.

“What? What do you mean right now?”

The slight panic in her eyes made you laugh harder, shrugging your shoulders as you looked around the room.

“I feel him around me all the time. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of… being watched,” you grinned playfully at her and she whined at the spine-chilling tone in your voice which you used on purpose.

It was true, though. You felt his presence all the time and you had gotten used to it – even though he couldn’t answer you or talk back, you spoke to him all the time when you’d be alone in the house. Before he passed, he promised he’d always be around and you believed him.

“Nooo, you’re joking,” Caroline laughed as she threw a pillow your way, which made you giggle as you caught it and threw it back at her. “I mean I’ve dreamt about him before, but you’re totally fucking with me right now. Dad’s probably too busy stealing the show up there,” your daughter joked as she put the pillow back in place, the light on the bedside table flickering right that second.

She widened her eyes as she immediately crawled over to you, almost planting herself on your lap, which made you only laugh harder.

You were about to tell her to calm down and that she shouldn’t be scared, but a loud bang that rumbled from downstairs actually got Caroline jumping in your lap this time, her arms firmly wrapped around your neck. Now that was something you never heard before and even though you were surprised, you couldn’t stop laughing at your daughter’s actions.

“Let’s go downstairs,” you told her with a giggle as you pushed her off, getting up from the bed. Picking up your robe, you put it on as Caroline shook her head. She wanted to decline and stay in bed, but she also didn’t want to be left alone right now so as you left the room, she quickly run after you.

“Mom, what if it’s actually someone in the house? I’m not dressed to fight!” she whispered harshly as she looked at the dress shirt she stole out of Elvis’ side of your wardrobe, her hands planted firmly on your shoulders while the both of you tiptoed down the stairs.

You laughed softly, easily finding your way through the house in the dark. “No one is here, Care,” you chuckled as you flicked on some lights in the dining room, knowing that Graceland’s security system was tight and nobody was able to come in unless you allowed them to.

The both of you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, until Caroline pointed out the slightly ajar door of one of the cabinets that stood against the wall. You recognized the photobook that laid on the floor, obviously having fallen out of the cabinet.

Or more so, as if someone deliberately put it there.

You walked over to it, picking it up and opening it on the first page which immediately brought a smile to your face. “This was taken on Christmas Eve, you were just one year old,” you told Caroline as you put the book on the table, sitting down. Caroline had seen it already, she had seen all family photo’s, but she loved looking at them.

Her fear faded as she sat down next to you, smiling as the two of you happily turned pages to look at the pictures of all the Christmasses spend together. It was like a warm blanket was wrapped around you and you knew Caroline felt the same, because she had completely forgotten about the light that flickered or the worries of someone breaking into the house.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple as she smiled at the picture of her and her father in the snow, along with the snowman they build together. Bright smiles and flushed cheeks – the sight of it warmed your heart.

“Your father will always be here,” you whispered to her as you softly leaned your head against hers, rubbing her arm. “He’s gonna be there with you every step along the way, no matter what you do or where you go. Don’t you ever forget it,”

She sniffed softly, nodding her head as she turned to you to hug you tightly, your hand drawing soothing circles on her back. “I know,” she sighed, laughing softly through her tears. “As long as he doesn’t make the light flicker again, I’m okay with it,”

You laughed as you pulled back a little to look at her, cupping her face to wipe her tears away with your thumbs. “He knows you’ll probably flee your house in the middle of the night so I’m sure he won’t,”

She chuckled as she nodded, rushing a hand through her hair as you let her go.

“And he’s right. If that would’ve happened to me if I was at my place, I’d probably run onto the streets screaming,”

You bet she wouldn’t, but you still laughed at her words. You were sure Elvis would let her know he was with her in other ways, but you wouldn’t mind at all if he made the lights in your room flicker or whatsoever.

It gave you comfort knowing he was still there, popping in whenever he pleased.

 

After drinking some tea and looking at some more pictures, you and Caroline decided to go back upstairs and sleep away the rush of emotions the both of you went through today.

You fluffed your pillow a little, laying down after you turned the light on your side off. Caroline sighed happily, reaching for the light on her side – once again, it flickered before she had the chance to turn it off.

“Seriously, Dad?” she deadpanned, moving closer to you again instead of turning the light off like she planned to.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you reached over to the lamp, switching it off.

“Give the girl a break, El,” you chuckled, laying back down. Caroline was immediately pressed against your side, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Just like when she was a little girl, you played with her hair to make her drift off into a slumber. While she could be a tough one with a big mouth, you didn’t care that she still liked to be babied a little at twenty nine years old.

She would always be your and Elvis’ little girl and that was your most beautiful achievement.

#elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #austin!elvis x you #austin!elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #elvis fluff #elvis angst #austin!elvis fluff #austin!elvis angst #austin!elvis imagine #austin!elvis fic #elvis fic #elvis #elvis presley #austin!elvis #elvis fandom #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley imagine #elvis 2022 #tamwrites

[oliviassunrise]

if you’re feeling like it: hand-holding 30 or 34 for Helen and Dale? :3

Oh, I had fun with this one! I think my heart wants to believe that year between seasons 1 and 2 was a good time for them. Went with 34–holding hands while driving.

Thanks for the prompt!

Touches Ask Game

…

Windows down, music blasting.

That is the way Helen likes their drive to Bendigo for Christmas. Val has a turkey in the oven and has promised clean sheets on the bed in Dale’s old room. As they cruise down the freeway, Helen tips her sunglasses back over her eyes, fighting the hot rays of early summer in Victoria.

Dale is in the driver’s seat, bopping his head along to Helen’s choice of heavy rock. He’s the most relaxed she’s seen him in months. Since he took over the desk last autumn, he’s on edge, constantly trying to prove he belongs where he’s at and isn’t simply a filler for Geoff—a substitute until someone “better” comes along. His change in energy for this holiday is refreshing, and Helen is grateful for a stress-free trip.

This isn’t the first time she’s been to his mother’s, and their little trip back in the winter had been…well, it had been less than desirable. Dale had spent the entire time on the phone, listening to the radio—anything for updates on what he initially believed would become a huge story. He had been convinced they would have to pack up any minute and return straight to Melbourne, and not only had it left Helen unnecessarily antsy, but she’d watched him deflect and miss every single one of his mother’s attempts to enjoy their company.

Helen and Val had reached an understanding and appreciation for one another that weekend.

For this visit, however, they’ve had a talk. Dale is not to think about work. He is not to turn on the telly outside of the usual Christmas specials. And he sure as hell is not allowed control of any radio. Hence, Helen packing a shoebox of cassettes for the ride.

The current tape ends, and she sifts through her box for a new one. It needs rewinding, but the second Pat Benatar blares through the speakers, Dale is on cloud nine.

Helen can only giggle at his antics—at his exaggerated pitch and his enthusiasm as he drums on the steering wheel. He’s lucky they’re on a long stretch of road with few cars, or his swerve might have dire consequences.

“Watch the road, or I’m telling your mother to bust your arse when we get there,” she threatens with a chuckle.

But he keeps going. “We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder!”

He grasps her hand and holds it up victoriously, and she nearly chokes with laughter. “Dale!”

“We belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen under!”

He keeps up his dramatic performance, hand still holding hers. “Okay, Dale, really—”

“Weeeeee belong! We belong, we belong together!”

He stops and turns the volume down, both of them in fits of hilarity. And as she sees the smile on his face—a genuine smile for the first time in weeks—she thinks…this can work.

“Ladies and gentleman, that was the musical stylings of Dale Jennings,” Helen narrates, putting on her camera voice. “Tune in next time…if he doesn’t crash the car.”

“I’ll be here all week,” he gives a little bow, planting the hand holding hers back on the steering wheel.

“You know, we should see if Lindsay will let you turn this into a bit. Really put a bug up Geoff’s arsehole.”

“Oh, I’m sure the ratings will soar.”

“It’s what the people want—to be dazzled and entertained, right?”

Dale only laughs and shakes his head. “I bloody love you, you know that?”

Helen reaches for his hand again, offering him a sweet smile. “Yeah, I know.”

#ask kayli #the newsreader #helen x dale #helen norville #dale jennings #the newsreader fanfiction #my fic

[ace-of-zaun]

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: Pt. 8

Silco x f!reader - 7.6k words - SFW

cw:  fluff, angst, anxiety/dread, injury, medical anxiety, health and illness, taking care of people, talk about self-defence and physical assault, get your seatbelts on lads we’ve got another emotional rollercoaster chapter, but with a fluffy ending bc it’s me

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

If someone had told kitchen-utensil-salesperson you that one day you’d be having to bribe the Eye of Zaun’s daughter, to keep her quiet about your relationship with said kingpin, you’d have laughed in their faces and told them to get lost.

But alas, here you were.

You’d had a long chat with Jinx about why you weren’t telling people and why she couldn’t tell anyone either. And after surprisingly little convincing from the two of you, Jinx had agreed to keep your secret… for a price. Sweets once a week for every week she kept it a secret. 

Dear Janna, was this girl Silco’s daughter.

She’d also sweetened the deal by throwing in a few extra game nights every month, so that’s how you find yourself sitting at Silco’s desk, Jinx on your lap in the chair opposite his, as you play yet another round of Gun Bun.

Silco is, rather annoyingly, picking incredibly obnoxious words on purpose when it’s his turn, (seriously, how many nine-year-olds know the word egregious?) so you decide that this is the perfect opportunity to mess with him.

At first, you simply decide to spell all of your words wrong, irritating him just a little bit more with every line drawn as he fails to guess the correct letters.

Once he cottons on to that, correcting your spelling like a disappointed teacher, you move onto the next level…

You start making words up.

Jinx giggles and squirms about in your lap when you whisper your nefarious plan to her, earning a narrowed look of suspicion from your criminal(ly gorgeous) boyfriend.

Unfortunately, this tactic only works for one round, because when you finally complete the drawing of Mr. Bunny shooting a gun (complete with the obligatory BANG!) and Silco still hasn’t guessed all the letters, Jinx reveals the word with a menacing glee.

And Silco loses it.

“That is not a word,” he says, immediately glaring at you since you’re the obvious instigator.

He looks so grumpy and so adorably exasperated, you just want to kiss him until he forgets both his own name and just how difficult you like to make his life. 

“It is!” you argue, staring at him whilst you valiantly battle against the urge to smile, before revealing, “I just made it up.”

His whole expression drops into the most incredulous deadpan. 

“Darling.”

“What?” you counter. “All words are made up! It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with me.”

There’s a pause where Silco just stares at you, mismatched eyes glimmering with something just on the edge of dangerous. 

You stare back, raising one cheeky eyebrow in challenge. That does it. 

“I think it is best we retire for the evening,” he says, tone clipped and impatient, though his eyes never once leave yours.

Jinx whines in disappointment, climbing from your lap onto the desk just so she can launch herself into Silco’s lap. She clings to him like a kitten until he finally gives in to her and agrees to one more game, as long as it doesn’t involve any words. 

Which of course means your absolute favourite activity in the whole, wide world. Drawing! 

You teach them both a game you played as a child, one where a piece of paper is folded three times, in a way where you can only see one section at a time. 

The first person secretly draws the head and shoulders, with some lines over the fold into the next section so the second person can join it up. They then flip it over to the next section, where the second person draws the torso and arms, while the last person then draws legs and feet, making sure to keep your separate drawings hidden until the very end, where you reveal the character you’ve all made together. 

You go first to demonstrate, drawing the head of a smiling girl that looks a little bit like Jinx (you know, if Jinx were a squiggly, blue doodle). 

After Jinx and Silco have both drawn their sections, you open up the paper and spread it flat on the desk, revealing, to Jinx’s delight, an absolute monstrosity of a character.

Underneath your smiling face, Jinx has doodled a thin torso with long spaghetti arms that loop round and round until their hands rest on their hips. But it’s nothing compared to Silco drawing his own boots and somehow forgetting that he needed to draw legs as well. 

You play this game for a few rounds, until it’s Silco’s turn to draw first. Except he takes a millennium, sketching with his pen like he’s in the middle of an art class. But it’s only when you spot him gently rocking the chair from side to side, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, that you realise he’s trying to lull Jinx to sleep.

And surprisingly, it works, humming quietly under his breath until she falls asleep in his lap, adorably curled up with her face against his chest. 

Once he’s certain that she’s fast asleep, he lifts his head to give you a knowing look before carefully lifting her and carrying her back to her bedroom. You take the look to mean that you should get changed into your pyjamas so you can both cuddle up when he returns from putting her to bed. 

But when you stand up from your chair, groaning as you stretch your tired body towards the rafters, you take a moment to peek at Silco’s drawing, sliding the paper over the varnished wood until you can finally see. 

And you swear your heart melts in your chest when you look down at it. A portrait of you, looking happier than you’ve ever seen yourself looking. At least, up until you’d moved in with Silco. Now, you’re pretty sure you look like this most of the time. 

You’ve begun to stay in his bedroom a few nights a week, usually when he doesn’t stay up working until dawn like a madman. 

Your (imaginary) spy training has gotten a real workout every morning, ensuring no-one sees you make the dash back to your own bedroom, then getting dressed to go and meet Silco in his office like you hadn’t spent the whole night in his bed.

Honestly, part of you wonders if it would just be easier to move some of your clothes into his bedroom, but you’re not sure if he’d want that. The man does have a lot more clothes than you do. 

And what if he’s not ready for you to both officially move in together? How would you even approach asking? Should you just do it and blame the goblins when he asks if you put them there? (They’re cheeky little bastards, you know, they’ve stolen enough of your socks from the washing machine.)

You’re just preparing to leave the office, peering around the corner of the doorway to make sure there’s no-one in sight. You’d left the kingpin snoring in his bed just moments ago, and it’s far too early for Sevika to be anywhere near The Drop, so you’re pretty confident you’re not gonna be caught.

Crouching down a little feels like a good, sneaky spy move, so you bend your knees slightly, duck your head, and begin to tip-toe down the hallway as quietly as you can.

And honestly, even after only a few steps in, you’re genuinely starting to feel like you could break into one of those fancy art museums Topside and complete the heist of the century. That is, until a low voice calls out behind you.

“What in Janna’s name are you doing?”

Janna herself would be proud of the way you hold in the blood-curdling scream that threatens to erupt from your vocal folds.

Instead of waking up everyone in the entirety of Zaun and probably some of Piltover, you clutch your chest and hiss out a wheezing, “Holy fucking fuck-”

You spin around to glare at Silco who is standing in the doorway to his office, coffee cup in hand as he leans nonchalantly against the frame. 

How didn’t you hear him sneak up? And how the hell did he manage to wake up from being borderline comatose AND make himself a coffee in such a short amount of time? 

You squint at him suspiciously as if that’ll make him reveal all his secrets. Maybe he should be the spy…

Silco looks rather amused as he watches you. 

“Has anyone ever informed you that you possess quite the potty mouth?” he asks, in that raspy morning voice that is far too hot for its own good. 

“Has anyone ever informed you that it’s rude to try to give your girlfriend a heart attack on purpose?” you shoot back.

He holds his free hand to his t-shirt clad chest in mock offence.

“I can assure you, my love, I was attempting no such thing,” he protests with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen in your whole entire existence. 

You point at him as a threat. 

“Boy, don’t test me. I’ll take you out of my will.”

Silco’s face drops into a faux upset, slapping one hand against his cheek dramatically. 

“Oh no, whatever will I do without your collection of novelty ice-cream scoops?” he questions sardonically.

You return it with an overexaggerated gasp, (but deep down you’re secretly pleased he’s starting to play along with your melodrama; oh how the turn tables).

“How dare you!” you exclaim, throwing both hands up to cage your poor, shattered heart, before you turn your nose up to sniff haughtily. “That’s it, I’m breaking up with you.”

Silco swiftly downs the last of his coffee and then tosses the mug onto the sofa behind him blindly, instantly changing your mind on what you just said.

How the fuck did he do that without it breaking into a million pieces? And more importantly, how is he easily the hottest man in the world? 

“I think not,” he practically growls, stepping forward into the corridor. 

“You can’t stop me,” you announce loftily. “Me and the Scoop Troop are outta here.”

He advances on you slowly until he’s leaning down to speak into your ear, the roughness in his timbre sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Then I suppose I shall have to convince you to stay.”

Abruptly, Silco leans down to pick you up, deftly swinging you up into a bridal carry, forcing you to try your best not to squeal and accidentally wake everybody up. 

Then, he turns on his heel and carries you back in his office, kicking the door shut behind you as you giggle breathlessly into his chest. 

Maybe the reason you look so much happier now after moving in with Silco, is because you are. 

-

Of course, spy training in the mornings is not the only kind of training you embark on. 

True to his word, Silco begins to teach you self-defence after the multiple attacks you’ve endured since accepting the job as his negotiator. (To be fair, you’d endured some during your time at the market stall too, but that had been at a significantly lower danger level compared to this.)

So you’re in the bar one early afternoon, a few of the tables pushed out of the way to give you room to properly move about. Silco has given strict orders that no-one is to enter the bar until you’re finished, which had earned a huff of annoyance from Sevika, who would be forced to take the long-winding emergency exit in and out of the building.

Standing across from Silco in the cleared space, you ready yourself to learn some basic defence, hoping it’ll trump your current tactic of just running away really, really fast… (okay, fine, a moderate jog at best).

You’d hoped to learn how to properly use the knife Silco had gifted you in the market, excitedly bringing it along in the hopes that he’ll show you some cool moves.

But he’d confiscated it the very second you’d taken it out of the box and nearly dropped it on your own foot, blade down. 

So… self-defence it is, for now. 

Your boyfriend (smoking hot; an utter bitch; an absolute icon) stands opposite you, hands clasped behind his back as he talks. 

“Today I will show you some basic movements that will allow you to disengage if an attacker were to grab onto you,” he explains, reminding you of your old geography teacher (who was also your everything-teacher because, you know, Zaun). “Then, depending on how well you-”

Silco continues to tell you his lesson plan in detail, but honestly, you stop listening the second you notice that his shirt sleeves are rolled up. And he’s wearing a different waistcoat. It looks a little older than the usual ones he wears, but it’s still hot. Really accentuates his slutty little waist.  

Your cheeks get warm just thinking about it. 

Is it hot in here or is it just you? 

And gods, isn’t he pretty with his hair a little bit messy, those dark waves just the tiniest bit mussed up. And wouldn’t he look even prettier if you ran your hands through it and maybe put your lips on-

“Are you listening?” Silco cuts in. 

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, positively startled at the interruption. 

“Yes, sir,” you blurt out.

He smirks in response which does not help your predicament in the slightest. 

“Very well,” he nods, bringing both hands to rest on his hips. “We will begin by learning a disengagement technique that would be useful if somebody were to-”

You swear you’re trying to listen.

Honestly.

But that voice. And the way his lips move when he talks. 

And fuck, it’s hot when his throat bobs when he swallows and-

“Are you ready?”

Uh oh, you did it again. 

“Huh?” you mutter, dragging your gaze away from his throat.

“I said, are you ready to try the movements I just explained?” Silco asks, raising one eyebrow expectantly. 

“Of course I am,” you scoff confidently, despite having not listened to a single word he’s just said. “I’m practically a cage fighter at this point. I could take you down faster than you could say 2-in-1 decarboxylator and herb infuser.”

He doesn’t ask. In fact, he’s stopped asking what the hell you’re talking about when you’re both busy because it more often than not just leads to a twenty minute monologue, which he’s more than happy to listen to as you lie in bed together. But not when you’re about to learn important skills like how to defend yourself in a fight.

“Alright then, show me,” Silco responds, stepping closer to you to do whatever the hell he’s been talking about for the last five minutes. 

Suddenly, he reaches out and grabs a handful of your shirt with one hand, scrunching it up right next to your collarbone. 

Your body jolts forward slightly with the motion, eyes flicking up to gawp at him in alarm. 

But instead of flipping you over his shoulder and breaking your spine (you assume that was the intent), Silco just looks down at you, waiting patiently for you to make your move.

Of course, you have no idea what you’re doing (ever), so you just stand there like a rat in headlights, staring up at him in awe. 

“Grab onto your shirt like I told you, darling,” he instructs softly when you still don’t do anything. 

“It’s okay, you can have it if you want,” you whisper back in a daze. 

“No, grasp the fabric with this hand,” he says, gently guiding your hand to fist the material, right next to where his hand is still holding onto it. “And then grab onto my wrist with your other hand.”

You do and suddenly, you feel like you’re in a sauna. 

Why’s he grabbing your shirt like that? And how in the actual fuck can somebody’s wrist be so goddamn hot?

“Now pull your shirt away from me with your hand and push my wrist away with the other,” Silco continues, seemingly unaware of how flustered you are. 

Oh, so that’s what he’s trying to get you to do. 

You hesitate for a moment, blankly staring at his arm. Only then does Silco notice your reticence, but he must put it down to nerves because the grip on your shirt lessens slightly. 

“It’s alright, my love, just try your best,” he tells you soothingly. 

You smile up at him, utterly dazzled by his… him-ness. 

“Okay.”

You just want to impress him. To make your silly little guy as proud of you as you are of him. 

So you try your best…

Which of course means putting way too much power into it. 

With absolutely zero warning, you shove him away from you at the same time as you rip your shirt from his grasp, the force causing you to stumble and trip yourself up on your feet. Instinctively, you reach out and grab onto Silco’s waistcoat, pulling him down with you. 

He just about manages to catch the back of your head before it smacks against the floor, but  can’t save himself from crashing down on top of you.

Your fingers stay latched onto him as he leans up to check on you, hand still cupping the back of your head protectively. 

“Are you alright?” he asks frantically, rapidly looking over you for any injuries.

Your brain must have short-circuited because in lieu of answering, you simply gaze up at him in shock.

The fall appears to have knocked some of his hair loose, now hanging down over his forehead in strands, and sweet Janna, this should be a crime. 

It’s not fair. How are you supposed to do anything or even think straight with this?

Silco cups your cheek and calls your name, clearly panicked. 

“Can you hear me?”

It’s too much for your poor heart, so give you in and press your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

Silco freezes for a split second before letting out a startled, hmpf!

He moves back, breaking the kiss to hold both of your hands against the floor to stop you from leaning up. 

“Darling, this is serious! You cannot kiss me in the middle of training,” he huffs, exasperated.

You hope the puppy-dog eyes will earn you your forgiveness. 

“But you’re just so cute.”

He sighs, head hanging down low for a brief second before he meets your gaze again.

“Are you injured?”

“No. Are you?”

Silco appears to be relieved, but also a little perplexed. 

“I’m fine, darling. How did you lose your balance so easily?” he asks. “It was supposed to be a simple manoeuvre.”

“I uh… I got distracted,” you say bashfully.

Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. 

Luckily, he just runs a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. He fails spectacularly. 

“You cannot get distracted in a fight, you must be vigilant at all times,” he tells you, like he’s trying to be stern. 

You take no notice. 

“Even if the person I'm fighting is ridiculously hot?”

Silco ignores the question (despite the fact that the tips of his ears are turning the loveliest shade of red) and continues pretending to be strict. 

“Let’s try getting out of this hold,” he says. “What do you think would be the best way to escape from this position?”

You don’t even bother looking for a way to escape, still too focused on giving some love to your mans.

Leaning up as far as you can, you deliver a quick kiss to his nose, which, to your absolute delight, only makes him blush even more. 

He says your name as a scold.

“What did I just say?”

You toss your head to the side and whine, rumbling your legs a little against the floor like a child. 

“Why can’t I just do this if someone attacks me? I feel like it’s kinda working.”

“Do what?” Silco asks with a frown.

“Kiss them.”

And gods, you swear the noise that emanates from his chest is a growl.

“Absolutely not,” he grunts, pressing himself slightly closer to you until you involuntarily squeak.

Silco releases his grip on your hands and climbs off of you, helping you to stand up so he can dust off your trousers. 

Over the course of the next hour, he does actually teach you one or two methods to escape someone’s grasp, but perhaps more usefully, he explains that it’s better to focus on prevention of attacks, rather than relying on moves that you’re probably going to forget when filled with adrenaline.

But just knowing that you’ll have both a slew of bodyguards and a little bit of knowledge in self-defence makes you feel a bit more confident, which was probably the only reason you agreed to learn in the first place.

Of course, the impromptu lesson ends when you trip again and nearly break your nose falling into a table, this time when you’re only trying to get a glass of water. 

Being led carefully back upstairs by Silco, he exhaustedly suggests that training takes place in his office from now on, to which you ask if you can be wrapped up entirely in bubble wrap in what you would call your Safety Suit.

You get no response, which in your books is not strictly a no, so you make a mental note to add an industrial amount of bubble wrap to the next product order you fill out.

Lacing your fingers with his, you give him the biggest, most affectionate smile as you follow him upstairs to the shower, wondering just how in the hell you got so lucky.

-

It’s only a few weeks later that Jinx gets sick, somehow catching a head cold that thankfully isn’t too concerning, just a bit of a temperature that puts her in bed for a few days.

Although, much like her father, she's incredibly demanding. Which of course only multiplies tenfold the second she starts to feel under the weather, insisting either you or Silco be with her all day every day. So the two of you take shifts, juggling paperwork, meetings, and spending time with Jinx, as well as trying to look after yourselves.

It works for a few days, distracting Jinx when she gets bored or frustrated, coercing her to eat and drink, the three of you even spending time together to discuss her new invention ideas while she’s stuck in bed.

Then, it all goes downhill from there. 

You’re on Jinx duty one afternoon, down in the kitchen and in the middle of making her a warm drink when a loud commotion erupts from the bar. Your head pops curiously around the door frame only to be greeted with the sight of utter chaos; a slew of the club’s bouncers and Silco’s usual bodyguards frantically rushing through the club.

For a brief second, you wonder if there’s a security convention happening that you hadn’t been made aware of.

But the moment you spot the Doctor slinking through doors and up the stairs towards Silco’s office, your heart drops in your chest.

He’s supposed to be at a meeting right now with Sevika, across town.

Or will it have finished by now? Would he have had time to walk all the way back to The Drop?

Fuck, what if something happened during the meeting?

Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay, you slip through the crowd and up the stairs, all the while hoping you’ll find your boyfriend in his office as normal, pacing in front of the window like he usually does when there’s been a hitch in the plans. 

But when you reach the doors, you find two more burly guards blocking the entrance. 

You suck in a breath of air and take measured steps down the corridor until you’re standing in front of them. 

“Hey guys, I need to talk to Silco,” you say as calmly as possible, pointing to the door behind them. 

“Sorry, can’t let you in,” one of them says, barely even sparing you a glance.  

You frown. 

“Why? What’s happened?” you ask, trying to hide the wobble in your voice. Then, at the risk of sounding too involved, “Is he okay?”

“There’s been an incident,” the other grunts. 

You hold in the urge to scream and respond as courteously as you can given the situation. 

“Yes, I gathered that, but it’s really important that I talk to him.”

The guards barely look at you, as if you’re just a fly buzzing in front of them. 

“Sorry. Protocol.”

Your fists clench at your sides. 

He’s your partner, for Janna’s sake! 

For all you know, something terrible could’ve happened and these two chumps are treating you like you’re the maid! As a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure you rank higher than these two in the pecking order anyway. 

You put on your meanest face and glare up at them, channelling all your Eye of Zaun energy.

“Look, I don’t give a rat’s arse about protocol, I need to see him right-”

Even just the mention of protocol reminds you of Jinx, who you’d completely forgotten about in all the hubbub. 

Your mouth drops open and you spin on your heel mid-sentence, racing down the corridor to her bedroom. Footsteps land heavily on the floor until you’re bursting through into her room the instant your fingers grasp the handle.

Jinx is completely fine, albeit a little startled at your dramatic entrance, sitting up in bed where you’d left her. You almost collapse in relief. 

“You were gone for ages!” she complains with a huff, until her eyes land on your empty hands and her face screws up, whining, “Hey, where’s my hot choccy milk?”

You rush to her side, gently soothing back the sweaty hair from her forehead with your hand. 

“I’m sorry, pumpkin, I forgot,” you attempt to placate her. “I’ll make one for you in a little bit.”

Her annoyance fades and you just see the worry overtake her expression as she examines you, eerily similar to her father.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. 

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.”

She isn’t buying it. 

“Yeah there is,” Jinx scowls, even crossing her arms against her chest to show you she really means business. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

You sigh. What the hell are you meant to tell her? You don’t even know what’s going on.

“There’s just been… a little bit of an incident, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re safe here,” you try to say reassuringly. 

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s just trying to sort everything out,” you reply. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”

Gods, you hope that’s the case. 

Honestly, you feel awful lying to her, but you have no idea what’s happening yourself. So right now, you both need to stay as calm as possible.

You sit with her for however long, keeping both Jinx and yourself distracted with a game while you internally battle with yourself to stop the worry from overtaking you. 

It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like it’s been hours when the door finally opens and Sevika enters, automatically throwing a grimace towards Jinx.

Of course, Jinx isn’t Sevika’s greatest friend on the best of days, but now that she’s sick, it’s entirely worse. She throws the covers over her head and groans in retaliation.

“Boss wants to see you,” Sevika announces, looking directly at you, thankfully ignoring Jinx’s outburst. 

Hope flutters in your chest for a split second. If he wants to see you, that means he’s awake and more than likely talking.

But you can’t really ask the six million questions that are running through your brain with Jinx here listening. And you also can’t really leave her with Sevika, unless you want the entire room to be destroyed. 

“Can you fetch Ran for me?” you ask, begging the woman with your eyes whilst keeping your tone neutral. “I can’t leave Jinx on her own.”

Sevika sneers, clearly annoyed. 

Then, you watch as she considers Jinx (still hiding under the covers), and probably considers being the one to watch over her for the foreseeable. 

Without another word, she promptly turns on her heel and walks out the room.

The whole time you’re waiting for her return, Jinx pesters you to let her see her Dad, but you make her promise that she’ll stay in bed until he gives the okay. 

Luckily, Sevika is back within minutes, Ran in tow, who silently reclines in the furthest chair from her bed. You explain to Jinx that you’ll be back soon, and encourage her to tell Ran about all her new invention ideas.

And the very moment you’ve shut the door to her bedroom, Sevika pauses outside, presumably to update you on the situation.

But your anxiety immediately gets the better of you and you sprint down the hall like a madman, too nervous to even wait a few seconds.

Vaguely, you hear Sevika mutter, “Don’t know why I fucking bother,” as you speed away, but you’ll have to apologise to her later.

You need to see him now. 

When you arrive at Silco’s office, the guards move to the side in preparation, although they do manage to look the tiniest bit alarmed when you burst through the doors yelling, “I just really love paperwork!” and kick the door shut behind you.

Hopefully that’ll quench any suspicions they might have. 

Silco is clearly not in his office, so the next port of call is his bedroom, of which you slam the door open and tumble into the room, hanging onto the door knob for dear life when the motion threatens to send you sprawling across the floor.

From his bed where he’s laid out, Silco’s eyes widen in bewilderment, jolting back against the pillows his head is propped up on. 

Your fingers grip the door handle while your eyes fill with tears, gasping at the sight of him. 

It’s hard not to miss the stained bandage around his thigh, missing waistcoat, and filthy, rumpled clothes. And the fact that he’s much paler than usual. 

You feel sick. 

“Sil…”

“I’m fine, darling,” he attempts to mollify you, shifting about as he tries to sit up.

“No, no, don’t move,” you choke out.

You rush over to him, uncaring of the way your knees crack against the ground when you heavily drop beside his bed. 

“What-” you swallow the knot in your throat, shakily willing the tears away. “What happened?”

A hand reaches out to comfort him, but you hesitate, hovering above his arm.

The last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt him.

Silco grasps your hand with his, firmly intertwining your fingers together. But you beat him to it, bringing his hand to your mouth to gently kiss his knuckles.

“An individual attacked us on our way back to the club,” he explains, two-toned eyes focused on where your mouth rests on the skin of his hand. 

You look up at him, brow furrowed. 

“An individual? Did you see what they looked like?”

“No, they were masked and escaped before Sevika or I could apprehend them,” he replies, voice clearly tired and groggy.

You want to ask why the hell they were alone without any guards, but you know he’ll just get huffy about it. Something about being able to look after himself.

Your hand runs over your face as you sigh.

“Do you think it was one of the gangs?”

That’d be the most obvious set of culprits. 

“It could be, or it could be a lone fanatic who disagrees with my policies,” Silco replies. “We will conduct a thorough investigation and in the meantime security measures will be tripled, you and Jinx included.”

“What did the Doctor say?”

“The usual,” he says, avoiding eye contact as his gaze trails to your clasped hands once more. If there’s one thing that Silco hates, it’s talking about his own health and wellbeing. “The Shimmer injections should speed things along.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before cutting in with a question of his own. 

“How is Jinx?”

“She’s fine, worried about you,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in comfort.

Suddenly, your eyes meet his, filling with tears once more as your mind begins to spiral.

What if-

You cut off that train of thought immediately, letting go of his hand and leaning forward to lightly rest your forehead against his side.

“Oh, Sil,” you mumble shakily into the creased fabric of his shirt. 

“Come here, darling,” he says, gently pushing you to sit back up.

You look up to see him patting the space beside him, the side you usually sleep on.

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” you protest weakly. 

“You won’t,” he says with resolve.

You only hesitate for a moment longer before standing up and making your way around the bed, gingerly climbing onto your side.

Silco quickly reaches for you and pulls you over to him, laying your head against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You’re careful not to lean on him too heavily. 

And gods dammit, as you lie there cocooned in his arms, those tears slowly and silently leak out against your will, soaking into his burgundy shirt.

“I was so worried,” you begin, hoping he can’t detect the wobble in your voice. “I… I thought…”

“Shh, my love,” he hums into your hair. “I’m here now.”

You allow yourself to relax in his presence, beyond thankful that he’s here and he’s alive, even if he’s injured. 

You’ll take care of him every single day until he’s better. And even after that too. For as long as he wants you.

But as much as you want to stay in his arms right now, reassuring yourself with each inhale and exhale of breath that levers your head on his chest, you have to get up. 

“Where are you going?” Silco protests when his arms slip away from you.

“I need to check on Jinx,” you explain, reluctantly climbing off the bed with a sniff. “Plus, it might look a bit suspicious if I spend too long in here. Might start a few rumours.”

Silco frowns when you stand at the foot of the bed and straighten your clothes, scrubbing a hand over your face to wipe away the tears.

“Bring Jinx here, then you can stay as long as you like,” he says, almost with a pout.

You try not to smile at the way he sounds like a little boy trying to get out of bedtime

“She’s still in bed,” you explain. “Plus, she’ll get upset if she sees that you’re hurt. I’ll send Sevika back in to watch over you.”

Silco doesn’t look convinced, so you wander over to his side again.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back later,” you say, kissing his forehead tenderly. 

He catches your hand before you can leave, smirking a little. 

“Why can’t you tell everyone you’re my nurse?” he asks, that mischief still lurking despite the exhaustion. “Then you could spend the night here, no questions asked.”

You tug your hand out of his grasp, glaring down at him in faux annoyance. 

“If you weren’t already injured, I would actually smack you right now,” you threaten.

“Sounds lovely,” he grins, reaching for your hand until you dance out of his reach with a yelp.

You begin to walk towards the door. 

“Stay in bed, you menace. And don’t do anything I would do!” you call out over your shoulder as you leave, exiting the room before you do anything stupid (like offering to give him a sponge bath just because you want to take his shirt off). 

And as you go, you pray to Janna that this period of recovery with Silco’s injury is not going to be a trial. The last thing you need right now is any more stress. 

-

The period of recovery is a trial. 

But did you honestly expect anything less with Silco as your patient? 

Luckily, his leg begins to heal fairly quickly, no doubt thanks to the Shimmer injections. But it still takes a bit of time until he can get back to work as normal.

After checking up on Jinx, you find out from Sevika that the Doctor had actually ordered bed rest until he gives the okay. Which is a relief at first because it means that you can bully Silco into properly resting for once in his life.

Except, that means you have to take over the brunt of the meetings and paperwork. 

Between the worry about both Jinx and Silco’s recoveries, and having to carry most of the business, you think you’re losing your mind. 

You continue to take care of Jinx, as well as Silco, who are both the whiniest, most demanding two people you’ve ever met when they’re sick. 

Jinx hates that she can’t visit Silco in case she gives him an infection and bugs you constantly about going to see him. And Silco borderline whines every time you stop him from getting out of bed to ‘just smoke one cigar and fill in one shipping manifest at his desk’. 

Yeah, no. 

More often than not, you’re running between the two of them, perpetually washing your hands and making sure your mask is secure on your face. 

Sometimes you’ll briefly stop on the way to inhale a snack. Sometimes you’ll shove your face under the sink taps and get both a drink and a wash at the same time. Other times you try not to scream into the nearest pillow or cushion in fear of accidentally losing your voice. 

This time, you’ve just finished putting Jinx to bed (a battle far more ferocious than probably any battle in history, ever), and you’re now on your way to check on Silco, ready for his new evening routine. 

Check stitches. Clean wound. Re-bandage. Give medicine. Give food. Check he’s actually taken medicine. Give drink. Find a new book for him to read because he’s bored, darling. 

But instead of finding him laying in bed, plucking his comb like it’s a musical instrument, he’s standing up (barely) and clutching to the dresser.

You watch incredulously as he attempts to tug his trousers over his injured leg, sweating, pale, and clearly out of breath. 

“Are you serious right now?”

He looks up, lips pulling into the tiniest smile at the sight of you. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, before going back to the task at hand. 

You think your head is going to explode. 

“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly.

The tray of his food and meds are placed on the bedside table, while Silco continues to wrestle with his trousers. Frankly, he looks ridiculous, pyjama top still on, trousers halfway up one leg as the other gets stuck on his ankle over and over again.

“I have a meeting,” he informs you, as if that’s an explanation. 

You look up to the ceiling like you’ll find a piece of your sanity on it. There’s definitely no meetings scheduled in the diary.

Dear gods, if he’s got a fever now and is hallucinating, you think you might just evaporate. 

“What meeting?”

Silco decides not to give you any details and instead just calmly states,

“It is very important. I must attend.”

Then, he carries on trying to get dressed like he wasn’t stabbed in the leg only a week earlier.

You can almost visualise the stress levels rising in your body; the jug about to overflow and spill out of you. 

What you should probably do right now is carefully help him back into bed and fetch Sevika so you can all decide on the best solution to this dilemma.

But you’re human, so you let your emotions get the better of you instead. 

“No.”

Silco has the gall to look surprised.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, genuinely shocked at your directness. 

“I said no, now get back in bed,” you say, moving over to him to help him take off those stupid trousers and put his pyjamas back on.

He must not understand how serious you are right now because he continues to gently protest.

“Darling, I appreciate-”

“Silco,” you cut him off, tears filling your eyes as you arrive in front of him, looking him dead in the eye. Your voice is shockingly quiet and precise. “I need you to get back in bed or I think I am actually, seriously going to lose it.”

He looks startled, shuffling forward to comfort you. 

“Sweetheart-”

“Please, Silco,” you cut him off, your voice cracking with the words. 

Silco appraises you for a moment, watching your tense body and distraught face. 

Finally, he speaks. 

“Alright,” he concedes quietly, mismatched eyes full of concern. 

He manages to step out of his trousers and you help him hobble back over to the bed, pulling up the covers so he can get under the sheets.

And once he’s comfortably sat up against the headboard, he opens his mouth to speak again, eyes watching you carefully the whole time. 

You don’t let him. 

You lean forward, kiss his cheek, and then step away. 

“Please eat this,” you say, nodding to the tray on his bedside table. “I’m going to check on Jinx and then I will be back to change your bandage.”

Your footsteps out the room are measured and by the time he calls your name, asking you to wait, you’re already out the door. But you can’t stop walking because if you do, you’ll burst into tears…

Which is exactly what happens after you check on Jinx.

You’re just on your way back to Silco’s bedroom when one of the employees stops you in the corridor to say that a warehouse has been raided, meaning a bunch of stock has been stolen. 

You politely thank her for letting you know, ask her to inform Sevika, take a sharp turn into your bedroom, and break down sobbing.

Truthfully, you’re not sure how long you spend kneeling on the floor next to your bed, face down as you cry into the sheets.

But it must be long enough because the door opens and a set of limping footsteps shuffle towards you. 

He sits down on the bed and gently - soothingly - runs his fingers through your hair. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath between each word, but you somehow manage to heave out, “You… should… be… in… bed,” sobbing the last word until it’s completely unintelligible. 

“I know, my love, I know,” Silco consoles you.

He delicately encourages you to get up and get into bed, following you under the covers despite there barely being enough room for the both of you. 

Once he’s reassured you that you’re not hurting his leg, you let him hold you in his arms, rubbing your back until you stop crying. 

You have a killer headache. And a big part of you feels bad for letting him comfort you when it should be the other way round. 

“Do you know why I gave you this bedroom when I first asked you to work and live here?” he eventually mumbles into your hair. 

You sniffle. “No, why?”

“It’s the only one with a single bed.”

Slowly, you pull back to look at him in disbelief. 

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t invite anyone over,” he explains nonchalantly, like any sane person would invite you to live with them and give you the tiniest bed ever, just because he was jealous of even the thought of you having a partner. 

You huff a laugh and his lips quirk into a smile in response. 

“There was never anyone to invite over,” you say. “Plus, it doesn’t really make sense to invite someone over when they already live with you.”

Silco watches you affectionately. He cups your cheeks and leans forward to capture your lips in the slowest, most tender kiss. 

Your eyes flutter closed and you whisper against him, “You’re injured.” 

“My lips are perfectly fine,” he mumbles back. 

You gently whack him on the arm. 

“Silly boy.”

He smirks (the one that still gives you butterflies) and steals another kiss before cuddling up to you again. 

“Thank you for looking after everything for me,” he says over your shoulder. “In truth, I am not quite sure what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know how you do it all, I feel like one of those stretchy dolls being pulled in every direction until they snap,” you snort, scrubbing a hand over your face. 

“You’re doing wonderfully, my sweetheart. I am continually astounded by your unwavering strength and compassion,” Silco tells you. 

Then, he blows an amused breath of air out of his nose, like he can’t quite believe whatever he’s thinking. “It’s no wonder I-”

He pauses, whole body suddenly tense in your arms. 

You wait patiently for him to continue, squeezing him a little bit tighter in reassurance. 

“Hmm?”

Silco eventually lets out a shaky exhale, simultaneously relaxing into your touch, almost like he’s melting into your warmth. 

“I know that you will be just fine. We will be just fine,” he says.

You hum again, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep with each looping circle traced on your skin. 

Deep down, you know you’ll have to go fetch him some water and his first aid supplies when you wake. You’ll sit in your armchair beside your own bed until he wakes up from some much needed rest. 

But he’s worth it. He’s worth the crick in your neck, and the reduced hours of sleep, and the overwhelming stress.

He’s worth it all. 

Because you love him. 

-

a/n: did anyone else play the folded paper drawing game or was it just me?? 

edit: i just googled it and the game is called Exquisite Corpse 😭

edit edit: so i’m currently trying to plot out the rest of this story so there’ll hopefully be fewer breaks between chapters (it was only meant to be a one-shot lmao), wish me luck my lieges 🙏 if you’re still reading this daft story after all this time, ily. if you’re new, welcome ily

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x you #silco fic #silco arcane #part 8

[querenciasturniolo]

little ramble below the cut.

tw: talks of anxiety and mental health, only take in what you can handle ! 🫶🏻

i’m watching the podcast episode, and honestly i can’t get over how much i love matt.

mary lou asked the question about reflecting back on their life and stuff, what would they do differently, and matt saying he let one day in 2014 affect his life for six years and that was upsetting to him, but he doesn’t regret anything, really made me think.

i’ve had a severe anxiety disorder since i was in sixth grade (that’s when it manifested, i was diagnosed when i was 18), and everyday i used to wake up practically paralyzed in my bed, unable to do anything but worry about what could possibly happen that day.

i was an absolute fucking MONSTER for nine years of my life. sixth grade to just two years ago, i was convinced that no one liked me, and instead of trying to push past my insecurities and my anxieties, i decided to give everyone a reason to hate my guts—and it worked. i was absolutely awful, i was nasty with my words, every sentence that came out of my mouth was like venom.

my mental health was in absolute shambles; i was beating myself up every single day about my thoughts, my intelligence, my face, my body, my family, everything, and because i was treating myself like shit, i turned it onto everyone else and started projecting. i was so disgusting in fact, that i didn’t care while it was happening.

i didn’t care that i was hurting other people, bc i was hurting as well. why should i feel bad for hurting them when I’M in so much pain ?

it took me literal YEARS to realize that my anxiety was the issue, not me. my anxiety was so bad, that it was manifesting into all of these festering insecurities, and in an attempt to keep other people from noticing my insecurities, i shut down and was silent, and when i was spoken to, my reply was always something horribly malicious.

i’m not proud of who i was, and i never will be. but, i can say that i’m proud of who i am now.

matt saying that, as corny as it sounds, was so eye opening. here i am, at 4:30am on a tuesday, crying as i type this, bc i wish i could give eleven year old me, fourteen year old me, and eighteen year old me a hug, and tell her how far we’ve come. she was doing her best, and i hope she’s proud of me, truly.

is my anxiety still debilitating and crippling ? it absolutely can be, but instead of seven bad days a week, i’ll have maybe one or two. am i still nasty towards anyone who dares to speak to me ? absolutely not, everyone deserves kindness until proven otherwise.

i’m not saying that magically over night, it will get better. but give yourself some grace, it’s your first time living a life, and no one does it perfectly.

you are absolutely on the right track for you as of right now, and who’s to say in ten, five, maybe even two years, you won’t change for the better ?

change is happening every single day, and sweetheart, even if you’re taking baby steps towards your better self, baby steps are still movement.

give yourself grace, give yourself love, and allow yourself peace.

i love you all, and if you read this, thank you.

thank you for giving me an outlet to show my gratitude for three twenty year olds who make goofy videos on the internet.

thank you, thank you, thank you 🫶🏻

#el rambles #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #cut the camera podcast #querenciasturniolo

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 7)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, reader discretion advised.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

“Word around town is, the Holyheads need a beater.” Draco remembers how Ro always loved hitting the bludgers away.

“I haven’t played in years.” Two to be exact, since her last game at Hogwarts.

“We’ve plenty of time to get you ready before tryouts.” Draco is supportive, as he is with everything, and more than happy to assist in her conditioning.

“You really think so?” That life, the one she used to have, seems so far from her now.

“I do.” For you, the world.

She pecks a kiss to his cheek. “Take me for a spin.”

Leo, now six months old, loves to watch from her bouncer. The little girl jumps and screeches happily, as her parents whirl around the large backlot of the Malfoy estate.

By the time tryouts roll around, Rosanna is more prepared than she’s ever been. Receiving a call from Gwenog Jones, captain of the Harpies, and fellow beater; letting her know she’s made the team.

Draco couldn’t be more proud when he hears.

In addition to quidditch, she's working toward finishing a standard wizarding degree. As well as honing her gift for legilimacy. Her tutor, Mr. Samuel Marshmen, a friend of her parents. He is paid well and therefore doesn't mind working around her new, hectic schedule.

However, burning the candle at both ends, and raising a young child, puts a strain on her relationship with Draco. Their wedding is placed largely on the back burner.

They fight, a lot. They've bickered plenty over the years, had a spat or two. But full out yelling, screaming their frustrations at one another, is an entirely different story. It shakes both of them to the core.

"I'll quit the Harpies," Rosanna decides. "I haven't signed the contract for the year."

Draco is turned away from her, his blood still boiling from their quarrel. "You're not going to quit, you've worked too hard."

She closes the distance between them, locking her arms around his waist. “I want to play for the Harpies…but I need you.”

Oh. He begins toying with her fingers. “I am not blind to the magnitude of your undertakings, I know that you are trying. What'd you say I handle the wedding?"

"You don't want to do that," she shakes her head. "You'll turn into groomzilla."

He chortles, turning to face her. "I'm halfway there as is, but you knew what you were getting into."

She cups his face in her hands, "If you give me two months, I'll only have a couple games a week. I’ll plan the whole thing, you won’t have to lift a finger."

"You have your O.W.L.S. coming up." Draco reminds her, peppering her face with kisses.

"Shit." She scowls, "give me three months." Ro amends.

“Let me do this for you,” Draco sighs.

Rosanna opens her mouth to argue, only to be met with his lips instead.

“Let me do this for you.” He murmurs, against her mouth.

Rosanna’s hands are in his hair, tugging at it. Deepening the kiss.

It’s in her nature to fight. To be fiery and unwavering. Draco anticipates it, after all these years, but he’s never been one to take anything lying down.

————————————————————————-

It's a leap of faith, when Rosanna marks her jersey Malfoy. It's a surprise to Draco, who's fully expecting to see McVay as she flies onto the pitch.

Her welcoming roar from the crowd only adds to her nerves. Then she spots Draco, holding a nearly nine month old Leo in his arms. Their little angel sporting two adorable pig tails with bows that compliment her little pink dress and sparkly tights.

"That's my girl!" Draco shouts proudly, when she manages to stop a rogue bludger that nearly costs them the game. Her jerseys sell out in record time.

There’s a party that night, hosted by the other members of the team and their plus ones.

Narcissa and Lucius are more than happy to take Leo for the night.

Rosanna is all done up, in a deep red dress that Draco has been dying to get off of her since he zipped her into it.

"Malfoy!" A burly, brunette, gentleman greets as he opens the door for them. "Great game." He holds a hand up for a high five.

"Oh, me." Rosanna still isn't used to the name, "I'm Malfoy." She awkwardly slaps their palms together.

"You guys newly weds?" The man smiles, flickering his eyes between them.

"Nearly weds." She explains, "I'm Rosanna, this is Draco; my fiancé."

"Pleasure." Draco extends a hand to shake.

"I'm Danny, Gwen's husband." The other man gives a solid shake. "Can you believe, I still can't get her to change the name on her jersey? We've been married for two years! Some rubbish about marketing."

"Are you still on about that Daniel?" Gwenog overhears the conversation, and joins them. "If I had known the hell I'd receive from this one," she jerks her thumb at her husband. "I'd have gone with Chapman instead of Jones straight away."

"Thank you for having us, by the way." Rosanna smiles at her captain. "This is my Draco."

"It's an honor to meet you," Draco has impeccable manners.

"Likewise.” Gwenog leans in, as if telling a secret. “Rosanna talks about you all the time."

"All good things I hope." Draco flashes a smile at Ro.

"At least you're being mentioned," Danny guffs.

"Oh stop it," Gwen laughs, kissing him soundly on the mouth. "Come on in, make yourselves comfortable. We have drinks, finger sandwiches, sweets, whatever you fancy, help yourself."

"Thank you," Draco nods, his hand at the small of Rosanna's back, as she leads them forward.

The dessert table is calling her name, "don't mind if I do."

Draco chuckles, "so what is it you've been saying about me?"

Rosanna flushes, "stuff."

"Now I'm interested," he cocks his head to the side.

"Say we're talking about...strawberries. I would respond with something along the lines of, 'Draco really likes strawberries.'" Rosanna elaborates. "It's embarrassing, honestly."

Draco is quite needy, needy for her time, for her affection, her love. Her confession sets a warm wave of reassurance radiating through him. "Come here," he draws her in for a chaste kiss.

They break apart as Marge comes to a stop beside them. She holds a box up to Rosanna, without a word.

"This is it?" Ro asks, taking it from her.

Marge, the short brunette seeker, nods in excitement.

"Thank you." Rosanna smiles, squeezing Marge's arm giddily.

The other girl nods, still silent.

"Draco, Marge." Rosanna introduces the pair. "Marge, Draco."

Draco holds a hand out to her, they shake. "Good to meet you. Brilliant game, especially the catch."

She places a hand over her heart.

"Marge!" One of the girls yells. "Come try the bubbly."

Marge jerks a her finger in the direction she's been called, waving in parting.

"Love?" Draco leans toward Rosanna’s ear.

"Hmm?" Her mouth is packed with sweets.

"Is she mute?" He whispers.

"Oh no," Rosanna laughs. "Laryngitis," she taps her throat. "This is yours, by the way." She hands over the box.

"For me?" Draco accepts the gift, tentatively.

“It’s not much, but you're a pain in the ass to buy for." She watches the box flip open. "It's the first one ever made. I had them save it."

He runs his fingers over the soft material, a jersey that matches her own. "I love it, thank you."

————————————————————————

Rosanna's recent claim to fame earns them unwanted attention, namely from Rita Skeeter. Who’s announced she's in the process of writing a tell all book, just as she had for Dumbledore and the golden trio.

Slowly but surely, the whispers become impossible to ignore. Draco is beginning to question if they should call off the wedding all together. But Rosanna will hear none of it. Immediately sending out save the dates, that summer, they will be joined in holy matrimony.

"I was thinking maybe the color scheme could be reminiscent of the Yule ball. Winter wonderland kinda, trip down memory lane. I know it'll be summer-"

"That's a lovely idea, darling." Draco makes a mental note of her request. This is the first real suggestion she's made, he's not about to discourage her.

"You sure?" Ro lights up, bouncing their daughter on her leg. "It's not gonna mess up anything you already planned?"

Yes, he'll have to change everything. "It's no trouble at all."

————————————————————————

It's a gorgeous summer day when they wed, in the courtyard of Draco's childhood home.

Leo is just shy of two, tearing down the aisle toward her father, with petals spilling from her basket.

Draco catches his daughter as she barrels into his arms.

Teddy Lupin is their ring bearer. After everything, Narcissa and Andromeda were somehow able to mend their broken relationship. It's not perfect, but then again few things are.

Rosanna's dress is one of the few parts of their nuptials Draco had no involvement in. He's in tears when he sees her, veil and all, in the ivory gown.

“Mummy.” Leo points toward her.

Draco nods, swiping at his face. “That’s your Mummy.”

Rosanna reaches the end of the isle, kissing her daughter’s outstretched hand, and passing the bouquet to her maid of honor. Ironically enough, Leo is also handed off to Hermione a moment later.

The traditional binding vows are recited, followed by the ones they’ve written for each other.

"My dearest Rosanna-" Draco breaks off, overcome with emotion that doesn't allow him to speak.

Ro couldn't care less about tradition. She wraps her arms around him, swaying them gently. "Take your time. This is for us," she whispers, kissing his cheek.

He’s put weeks into these vows, his bride to be has done the same.

He pulls back slightly, only their hands still touching. "I'd like to say it was love at first sight, but we both know that'd be a lie. We could hardly stand each other, that first day of potions class. No matter how much I detested your accent, or you mine; there was no denying that we made a damn good team. You are soft where I am hard, light where I am dark, and understanding where I am ignorant. You are loud, bossy and can't listen to save your life. But you are also humble, wise beyond your years, and incredibly kind."

Rosanna smiles as he thumbs away her tears.

"I've never met anyone quite like you, I know I never will again. You reach parts of me that I never knew existed. I can't believe that I get to spend the rest of my life with you." He slides the diamond wedding band into place.

Then it's Rosanna's turn, she's still crying. "If you ask someone to walk through hell with you; I think the answer across the board would be something along the lines of, 'hell no.'"

Their guests laugh and Draco chuckles, smiling so wide his cheeks ache.

"I couldn't have asked for a more loving, patient, supportive partner. I wouldn't be where I am today without you. You told me to follow my dreams, that nothing I wanted was unattainable. You stood beside me in my darkest hour. You walked through hell with me and didn't leave me alone. No one else could, or would, do what you've done for me. I love you so much. I can't wait to share the rest of my life with you," Ro slides his white gold ring into place. Kissing him ten times over before she's supposed to.

————————————————————————

The new quidditch season brings about new challenges. Rosanna Malfoy is now a household name among the sports lovers of the wizarding world.

"I'd like to have my name on her jersey." Someone from behind Draco remarks, as Rosanna zips past their seats; swinging her bat at full force.

"Shut off, John." A second voice chastises.

"Don't act like you've never thought about it. All the stamina trapped in that hot little body. Probably likes it rough too." There's a pause and a loud slap. "Hey! What'd you do that for?"

"That's her husband and kid, right there." The man's voice drops lower still, "Draco Malfoy, death eater, of Voldemort's inner circle."

"How'd she end up stuck with him?" The more brazen of the two ask.

"He used the imperius curse, locked her in his basement and got her up the duff. Sick really; they were school sweethearts, he took full advantage. Rita Skeeter wrote a book about it. If you ask me, he shouldn't be allowed within yards of her, let alone the kid."

Draco's blood boils, Leo is standing on the bleacher beside him, facing the game.

What's he to do? He can't very well leave. More over he can't sit there without a word. He really shouldn't hex them, the last thing he needs is more media attention.

Instead he turns calmly to the men two rows up, speaking over the people between them. "Rita Skeeter is an attention seeking cow. I love my daughter, she is well tended, she has everything any child could possibly dream about. My wife is loved, showered with affection. She's happy. But no one wants to read a book about that."

————————————————————————-

They begin working on their own book when Leo is around two. They want her to understand that she is not a mistake, not a burden, or simply a means used to escape their own demise. Instead she is a miracle, the light of their lives, all of their dreams wrapped into one perfect little girl.

Writing about all that happened is odd. At times uncomfortably intimate and raw. They both experienced the same events in entirely different ways. Reliving her pregnancy and feeling closer than they've ever been, sparks something in Rosanna. Draco is elated by the amount of times she shoves the parchment and quill aside to go at it.

"Let's have a baby," she murmurs.

"Love?" Surely he's misunderstood.

"Let's have another baby." She repeats, "if you wanna."

He's waited years to hear those words. "I do."

Rosanna taps his temple lightly, signaling that she wants to share thoughts.

He leans his forehead against hers, letting the wall around his mind fall away. He shares the world with her, and she shares her world with him.

Part 8

#through love and by love #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fic #draco x oc #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x oc #Hermione granger #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #ron weasley

[starshooter-1004]

Namor - The Ocean Calls 5

Masterlist

-In Reina - My Queen

-In Yakunaj - My Love

-In Amado - My Beloved

Warning: Slight smut

“Y/n! It’s time for work!” Called my mother. I woke up drawing the pillow overly ears and rolling to the side. Another day in paradise as I like to say; another day waiting on the public. My 25th birthday was last week and being a quarter century old I’m not looking forward for what the next three have in store. Being lonely in a room full of people is probably the worst for of torture. Everyone going about their days laughing and enjoying each others company. I on the other just feel like I’m merely existing. Since the death of my older brother that whole hasn’t been patched. 

“Morning Bro,” I looked down at the picture on my dresser fist bumping it. He died in military combat last summer. We're coming up on a year since then in two months. On top of that my boyfriend of five years left me a month after his passing; the state of mind I was in was too much for him. So I learned long ago that the feelings one claim for you are never true. That even when you're at your lowest people will take the opportunity to kick you while you're down. 

After work I would always go to the beach from the sunset to about nine. Here in Cape cod the beaches are gorgeous on the upper east coast. The water here though is always a frigid cold compared to the gulf beaches farther south. I laid out a towel gazing at the orange and pinks sky. It was the end of May and the breeze was getting warmer and the sand softer. The sky went dark some hours later and I sat in silence listening to the waves.

I caught in the corner of my eye on the right a figure; I looked over quickly flashing my phone light at it. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing my brother in normal clothes like the last time I saw him. I quickly stood up and rubbed my eyes thinking I was hallucinating. Suddenly my brother was in front of me he had tears in his eyes. 

“Sister, you need to wake up it’s not time yet, wake up,” he spoke so softly I could barely hear him. 

“What?” The waves sounded louder. The look on my brothers face got serious and he raised his hand placing it on my head.

“Wake up!” He shouted. I suddenly fell back and jolted I opened my eyes to see I was in my hut. My body ached and felt like I got hit by a bus; my legs felt like a ton. I placed my hand on my face feeling the oxygen mask and pulled it off. I looked around not seeing anyone in the room. I began to access my Injuries. Wiggling my toes I realized both my legs were attached it and I wasn’t paralyzed. My arms were black and blue and cut; my head had a terrible pain. My back didn’t feel much better either; but I was alive. I suddenly tried to push my self up to sit and that felt strenuous. I leaned my back against the pillows catching my breathe. I had five blankets on me for warmth and fresh bowl of fruits on my table next to me. 

I took a few to help gain my energy back and drank the water provided as well. The hut had a different feeling to it, in here everything felt sad and gloomy. I looked at my hands noticing the bracelet of Namor’s mother was still intact. I reached for my neck seeing the pendant was missing. I looked around the bed hoping it fell off but it was no where in sight. I soon heard the door open and Idris stopped in her tracks at the sight me.

“In Reina!,” she ran forward taking one of my hands. She smiled and sighed in relief.

“We’ve been so worried about you, I’ll go and notify our K’Uk’Ulkan,” she quickly exited before I could protest. A few moments later I felt a strong presence and the air changed. The door opened slowly and Namor slowly came in; he was wearing different royal garments. Adorned in his gold and blue jewelry, but his eyes looked sad. 

He stood by the door after it closed; he seemed nervous. He stood in silence for some time and I sat and waited; I didn’t know what I was waiting for. A apology? Or should I be the one apologizing? I was the one who got myself into the predicament. 

“Namor… Thank you for, everything,” I said raising my arm to show the IV. He nodded closing his hands in front of him then took the chair and sat at the end of his bed. He was keeping his distant and a part of me was grateful for that.

“Do you know where you are?” He asked.

“Yes, the caves of Talokan,” I replied.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“Y/N Y/L, I am 25 years old and I was born in Cape Cod Massachusetts,” I said. Namor nodded and uncrossed his arms, his brows were forward in thought.

“I was lucky to have recovered you when I did, your oxygen suit ruptured due the impact. You were unconscious and drowning; I managed to get you back tot he surface just in time,” he clenched his fits at the thought again. 

“I want you to know something y/n,” Namor stood up kneeling next to me taking one of my hands.

“I understand the loss you are going through. When I lost my mother I was forced into a king role and had to rebuild a whole civilization in the body of a child. I was incredibly lonely for years; but I found comfort in my companions. I found new reasons to live and have a reason to go on,” Namor rubbed his thumb over my cut knuckles.

“You have every reason to be weary of me; but please know that no harm will become of you. Of course this was a different outcome due to you putting yourself there. But my people and I saved you, if I truly had ill intent I would’ve left you there,” Namor looked at me. I was looking at our hands and he caressed my face drawing my eyes to look into his. 

“In Yakunaj, you are the most important person in my life now. Will you please give me a chance to prove myself and my people to you?” I looked at Namor and could see the sincerity.

“What if… The moment you see how broken I am you don’t want me? What happens if the ruler of Talokan goes to battle with the potential of getting hurt?” I asked. Namor’s lips gently turned up and ran a thumb over my cute brow.

“I will always come back home to you, no matter the distance and no matter the turmoil. You are my new home,” he said. I smiled and tears perked into my eyes, Namor leaned forward kissing my forehead. Though I tried going in for a real kiss but he pulled away with a grin.

“Not yet in Amado, you need to rest first I have to take care of some political matters but will be back soon. For now relax and rest,” Namor began to stand.

“Namor… do you have any books by chance? If I’m to be on bed rest for another period of days I need something to keep me entertained,” I said. Namor nodded.

“Yes, I believe we do I will have Idris collect a number of genres you show interest in,” Namor smiled and exited the hut. I sighed and closed my eyes calming my breathing. The affect this man has on me is un earthly, but comforting too. My heart stings whenever he leaves and isn’t here; my anxiety heightens at the thought of something bad happening. 

Idris came back a few moments later and collect about 15 books. She kept me company for the next week, but never did Namor visit for those 5 days. On the sixth day I was stir crazy and needed to move around. Idris gathered two medical assistant who helped me walk around the cavern. Soon my legs were mobile and no longer stiff and the assistance wasn’t needed. 

On the seventh day since I woke up Namor returned. I was outside my hut enjoying fruits and salmon with Idris. Namor and Namora emitted from the pool and didn’t spare a glance in my direction. They quickly walked into the center ancestral hut without a word the door again guarded. Idris looked at me and my shoulders slumped; the first time in a whole week I’ve seen him and nothing. 

Idris saw the change of mood and stood up. She took my hands with a smile and brought me over to the pool edge to drape my legs in. The cool water felt nice and helped shock me out of my mood.

“The water here in Talokan has extraordinary healing properties,” Idris began running the water up to my knee. 

“It’s cold,” I joked. She laughed and shook her head.

“Well it is the Atlantic,” a shadow then came over us. Idris turned quickly standing up bowing and gesturing. I remained where I was. 

“No hello? I see you're up and moving now,” Namor sat next to me dropping his feet in. Idris walked a few steps back for privacy collecting the dishes and books from the outside table. 

“Where have you been?” I cut to the chase.

“I was out on business,” he said,

“What kind of business?” I prided. Namor smirked taking my hand and wrist in his running his hand over his mothers bracelets.

“Can’t hide anything from you now can I?” He mused. I looked at him seriously. 

“Surface dwellers have been infiltrating our Vibranium in the ocean floors. They have created a new mechanism and it puts my people in a tight spot. With this new machine the surface could soon have access to the supply and weaponry of us and Wakanda. So myself and my top generals and soldiers put a end to it,” he said.

“A… end?” I asked. Namor caressed my face at my worry.

“Don’t worry, our people will be safe now I have contacted relations working with Wakanda. We are coming up with a deal to stop the scientist who created it,” I nodded my head turning to looking at the water again. 

“I have something else I would like to show you; somewhere that you are free to roam as you please,” Namor stood bringing me with him. He picked me up suddenly I yelped wrapping my arms around him a flew up. 

“Namor, if this surprise is as high as it how can I get there without wings?” I asked.

“There are stairs but in your condition I didn’t want to exasperate you too much,” Namor landed on the stone to a new level. In front of me were two large Jade doors. Namor walked ahead placing me on the ground and pushed the doors open. The muscles on his back flexing with the movement had me biting my lip but soon it fell open. The room before me was a grand library; stacks of shelves and books as far as the eye could see. I gaped at the sight and covered my mouth; The wood inside was a dark oak and jewels decorated some of the book spines.

“This was my old study as a boy, where I learned the languages of the surface dwellers. The histories of many countries and what surface’s knowledge was of the Mesoamerican era. Thankfully the surface’s knowledge does not seek below the water,” Namor stood by a row of books. 

“You are free to take any book in which you like and remain here. I don’t find much use for this anymore so I apologize if the up keep in some areas is poor,” Namor flushed. I stood in the center tears prickling; in awe of my surroundings.

“Namor… I can’t thank you enough for this, it’s more than I could imagine,” I turned toward him smiling. Namor approached me wiping a stray tear away and smiled. He leaned down then gently taking my lips in his. My hands on his chest feeling his heart and heat radiate through me. More… I needed more I wrapped my arms around him pulling him in. 

A gasp left me as he worked my tongue and moved down my jaw and neck. I let my head fall back as his stable tickled me again. His kisses leaving a hot trail searing through me. I moaned when his hoisted a leg up pressing me to him and kissing my lips again. 

“More,” I whispered. Namor’s eyes got dark and hungry he lifted me up to his waist walking to a table. He pushed the papers and dusty books off and sat me down on top. We were ravenous hands grasping and groping as we went; his hair still damp from the pool. My dress was thin against his skin causing his body heat to keep my warm. Namor grabbed my face pulling back and looking at me seriously.

“Do you want this?” He asks. I looked at him lust in my eyes and admiring his beauty.

“Yes, I want everything you could off me K’Uk’Ulkan,” I replied. Namor’s eyes went down to my neck caressing the ghost of where the pendant once was.

“Atuma recovered the jewel, I will have it be repaired with a better chain and jewels,” he whispered. Namor lifted me pulling my dress to my hips.

“I will cover you in all the jewels my lands have to offer,” and he captured my lips in a kiss.

#namor imagine #namor #namor smut #namor x y/n #namor x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers imagines #black panther #k'uk'ulkan of talokan #namor of talokan #talokan

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Twenty Four.

Huge thanks to everyone for your engagement :) We’re not far from the ending now, just four more chapters and an epilogue to go. Thanks so much for sticking with me!

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 3,007 

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“It’s getting bigger,” Keri spoke, looking up at the black obelisk. “Strange, since you’re coping well with me being away. Well, you’re telling me you are. I guess I can’t one hundred percent know for sure.”

Angel took her hand in his, turning away from the huge, black structure that still occupied their mutual dreams. “You can know for sure, cuz’ I’m fine with it. I miss the fuck out of you and it’s only been six weeks, but I’m good.”

Turning to him, she held a little space between her thumb and forefinger. “Just this much?”

It was their thing, and he loved it. “Yeah, just that much.” Folding his arms around her, he walked her away from the obelisk, going over to a door by the rotting old staircase and opening it up, both of them stepping out with a slight pull to their middle, feeling the dream change, their surroundings changing to that of the wildflower meadow they’d met in so many times before in their sleep. “So, tell me more about Australia that you haven’t when we’ve talked on FaceTime.”

“You would lose your damned shit at the spiders here, baby!” she snorted, remembering the one she’d seen in the bar she and the band had visited during a night off, a huge creature that had ran out from behind a picture frame on the wall. Angel would have been out of there in three seconds.

He rumbled quietly with laughter. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, and all the fuckin’ snakes and shit they got out there!”  

“I haven’t seen any of those so far,” she spoke, looking out into the meadow, her feet planting them both by what they witnessed. Once again, there it was, rising up from the dirt. The obelisk. They couldn’t escape it, it seemed. “This thing again?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, pulling her in the other direction. “Maybe it means something else? Because I know it ain’t my shit. I’m dealing with it, being a goddamned adult for once.”

It had crossed her mind, that the foreboding looking structure represented something else, something yet to come that they would have to deal with. Something that didn’t vanish. And there it stayed in their dreams, too, every night, in whatever setting they were in. In fact, the only place it was ever absent was when they found themselves in the blissful surroundings of the white room.  

“You, me and a bed. Shit, I’m missing this. It ain’t easy being a horny person when your woman is halfway around the world,” he told her, kissing her neck, his hand between her legs, stroking at the sumptuous warmth of her arousal.

“Yeah,” she breathed, hands running over his chest and arms. “I’m not about to turn down dream sex. No way, mister.” It was a little strange, knowing sex first hand with Angel, to now be once again enjoying it in her sleep and having to focus hard not to wake up. With how good his fingers felt rooted so deeply within her, he didn’t make that easy, Angel lifting her leg over his hip and slotting himself between hers, pushing into her fluidly, the punch of his cock deep.

Their kisses swirled with lazy heat, his arms wrapped around her, hips driving into her slowly, turning her onto her back and then sitting up, clasping her to him. She hummed softly, kissing him between little exclamations of pleasure and words of love. God, how she missed him, wishing so hard that it was real, maybe a little too much, suddenly waking up to see sunshine filling the hotel room she was in, the soft tones of Dolores, the band’s singer who she was sharing the room with filtering in from the bathroom.  

“Well, somebody was having nice dreams, so!” she chirped, her soft Irish lilt amused. Shit! Had she sleep moaned? Oh, the embarrassment!

“Erm, yeah. Dreaming of my boyfriend,” she spoke, sitting up, Dolores’s smile huge as she came back in, pulling on her long, lace kimono over her shorts and vest.  

“Ahhh, and if I had a guy as lovely looking as your fella, I’d be dreaming of him all the time, too!” she laughed, squeezing a little hair cream into her hand before rubbing her palms together and distributing it through her long, amber coloured curls. Keri truly had never seen hair so beautiful before, Dolores a very photogenic subject of her photography.  

Their day was mostly filled by travelling to the next gig venue, Keri staying out of the way as the crew set up, taking candid pics of the band before grabbing herself an ice-cold beer and going to sit outside in the sunshine, working out the time difference. It would be morning back home, and while knowing her honey appreciated sleeping in, a certain two would be up.  

“Beets! How’s it going?” Frankie cried happily, still in her pyjamas as she answered the FaceTime call. “Damn, it’s so sunny there! We got clouds and humidity. It’s making my hair fluff!”

She giggled, witnessing the halo of fuzz surrounding Frankie’s usual silky straight tresses, Jaime suddenly coming into view, chewing through a large orange segment. “Hey love! Oh, look at that tan! You look so gorgeous!”

“Hey Jaime, aww, thanks!” she waved, her heart full, but tingling a little. She missed them so, so much. Sure, it was an opportunity she couldn’t have passed up, even garnering a little work here and there through her travels through the land of perpetual sunshine, people wanting their portrait pictures taken by a professional photographer, but to have left her loved ones behind was something she wasn’t unaffected by.  

They chatted for a short time before Frankie had to hit the laptop and continue the website building practice she was undertaking, Jaime also heading out to work. It was just as she’d ended the call that Keri suddenly remembered, she’d meant to ask the latter for a little insight into the significance of continuously seeing an obelisk in her mutual dreams with Angel.  

“Well, Google is the next best thing.” Calling up the search engine app, she typed her question in, receiving a few varying results. Most said the interpretation was sexual from the phallic structure of the obelisk, Keri wondering what on earth that meant, since it began appearing after them having sex in reality. Hmm. Perhaps not that. Unless it was a representation of how well they fitted sexually? Hmm. Perhaps that.  

“And I really fucking miss that big D.” she chuckled softly to herself, continuing to read.

It was also a sign of faith and spiritual significance, which Keri could possibly get on board with. Maybe it was there to show them that though separated, and likely to continue to be so as she embarked on further travel with her work, that they should have faith in their relationship, faith that it could work just fine, although they would be parted for longer periods at times.

“An obelisk looming up stately and cold in your dreams is the forerunner of melancholy tidings. For lovers to stand at the base of an obelisk, denotes fatal disagreements.”

That explanation was far more foreboding, yet she couldn’t understand what kind of fatal disagreement could possibly arise for them. Angel was doing well with being parted from her, he’d told her that and she believed him, but she couldn’t discount that perhaps they could have other issues in the future. A fatal disagreement, though? How ominously worded.  

Shaking it from her mind, she continued to enjoy her beer, joined by Luke, the band’s cheerful drummer, taking the cigarette he offered her with thanks.  

“I’m glad I’ve got you someplace quiet, mate,” he began, lighting up and handing over the petrol lighter to her. “So, me sister is getting wed in just over eight weeks, and well, I was gonna do the photography myself, being a little handy with a camera.” Her crinkled nose cracked him up. “Oi! I’m not that bad, so I’m not! You with that face!”

Her laughter continued. “Luke, stick a set of drumsticks in your hand and you’re pure fire, but a camera? Not so much.”

“You’re a cheeky shite, Keri Jane!” His words only encouraged her giggles, his huge, blue eyes widening. “Anyway, and it pains me to say this now, but you’re much better at it than me. So, I wanted to gift them a proper photographer for the wedding. Money is tight for them, but the bloody advance we got from the record company has lined me pockets nicely, so, and well, if I pay your air fare and hotel, would you consider doing it? Maybe gimmie a wee mate's rate, if that isn’t too much to ask?”

Going back to Ireland, getting to spend more time with the band and get paid for it? It was a no-brainer. “Alright, how is seven hundred dollars for you? I think that works out to about six hundred and fifty euros, which is literally half of what a wedding photographer would usually charge. I’ll give your sister and her new husband all of the images I take as well, she won’t have to choose between them like a lot of photographers stipulate.”

Luke offered his hand across the table. “Bloody got yourself a deal, Keri!” They shook on it, continuing to enjoy their beers in the sun, the tour manager Steph coming out and handing over a couple more. Life was so wonderful in her world at that moment, Keri only wishing that her love could be there to enjoy everything she was experiencing right by her side.

As the tour progressed, each night she’d fall asleep and almost always find Angel there waiting for her, but nothing, absolutely nothing could feel as amazing as it did as she ran through the airport towards him after landing from a long flight, her man there at 3am to collect her from San Diego.  

“Oh my god, I missed you so much!” she cried, overjoyed to be in his arms again, Angel lifting her, her legs wrapping around his waist as she let her hand luggage drop to the floor, her arms wound around him in a tight hug he reciprocated.  

“I missed you too, tiny girl.” They fell into a kiss, absolutely overjoyed to be reunited before he finally placed her down and they walked hand in hand to go and collect her luggage. She’d left her Jeep with him, so that he’d be able to drive it up to collect her, having a vehicle capable of getting her suitcase and photography equipment into, all of which she checked meticulously after pulling it from the luggage carousel.  

As soon as they got to her car, his yawns dictated that she’d be the one driving them home, Keri still on Australia time, so feeling wide away and fresh. Angel slept for around forty of the fifty-five minutes it took to get down to Santo Padre. As soon as they were back in his house, though, sleep was the last thing on his mind, Keri thrown over his shoulder and carried to the bedroom.  

“Oh no, mister, there’ll be none of this.” Turning him onto his back, Keri sat herself astride him, her hand curling around his neck and pushing him down, leaning to him. “I’m in charge, and you’re going to lie back and enjoy it, all the energy I have, being on Australia time.”  

Being pinned beneath his gorgeous girl; what wasn’t to like about that scenario? “Alright, but I gotta request if I’m staying on my back. You bring that pretty little pussy right on up here and take a seat on my face.”  

Fair. After they’d shed their clothes, it was exactly what she did, too, Angel noticing immediately that something was different in so much as that all she had remaining there was a narrow landing strip of hair. “Oh, someone got a haircut.”

“Well, more of a ‘hair yanked out at the roots’, yeah. You like?”

He laid a kiss to her slit. “I like however it comes, baby. What made you decide on almost bare?”  

She shuddered softly at feeling his tongue skim a little lick over her outer lips, kisses beginning to wet her inner thigh. “Dolores and I got talking, and she said it’s a more intense sensation when you have someone going down on you. We also discussed something else that adds to that, which you’ll notice if you look a little closer.”  

Curious, he gently rubbed through her slit with his fingertips, finding exactly what she meant when they made contact with the tiny, pink titanium ring pierced through her clit hood. “Woah. That’s so fucking sexy! Shit, imma have so much fun with this.”  

Keri buzzed with excitement at wanting to know exactly how much different it would feel for her, to experience his mouth without the barrier of the soft, trimmed hair there. Her brand-new piercing, too, which whenever she’d found some time alone, she’d had a little play with and decreed was worth the initial pain of the piercing, almost breaking Dolores’s fingers with how tightly she’d hung on while having it done.  

His first licks were teasing, running over the newly bare flesh, Keri closing her eyes, the tickle of his tongue a much different feel than before. God, it made it even more intense, the flat, firm lick he then laid through her folds making her thighs quiver, the tip of his tongue landing against the piercing, beginning to move it back and forth.  

The wave of pleasure that began to skitter over her nerve endings was unlike anything she’d experienced before, Angel moving his tongue in a way that kept wet warmth massaging her bud, while the ring was continually moved back and forth, her nails grasping at his arms, a soft cry leaving her mouth. “Fuck, Angel. Fuck!”

A shiver ran through him at hearing her voice break upon his gasped name, his hands running up her body, a soft grasp fixing at each breast, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. “Get these pierced next.”

“Mmm, maybe,” she chuckled, the heat of his lips closing upon her clit and sucking sending her reeling. “Oh god, I missed that mouth!” The pleasure that streaked through her like a hail of comments did nothing but grow, flurries of tingles charging over her body, moaning uncontrollably at the sparks evoked by the suck of his lips.  

Releasing her, he beat his tongue back and forth over her little swollen bud, the pressure mounting, her body juddering as with a series of soft cries, she capsized completely, her waves breaking over his shore as her release washed over her in ceaseless waves.

While she might have been the one in charge, as Angel began to lick at her once again as her sensitivity subsided, Keri surrendered completely, her petal soft flesh rubbed wetter by the inquisitions of his tongue as he gave her clit lots of attention, making it stand even harder.  

He got off on the fact she had a piercing down there greatly, seeing it as something extra he got to play with while participating in his favourite pastime. If he could, he’d go down on her all day, every day. There was nothing he loved more than a mouthful of cunt.

Beating the tip of his tongue against her clit he also moved the ring back and forth, making her gasp and moan as pleasure burned through her like a tempest, wildfire personified, her thighs brushing his face as she writhed against his mouth

“Oh, fuck! Right there, please don’t stop!” she cried out as she felt him tug at her piercing, his deep, lust drenched groan arousing her even further. She loved how turned on it made him whenever he went down on her. A man who thrived upon pleasing a woman with his mouth was eroticism incarnate.

“Stop? No way, mamas. Ain’t happening.” Demonstrating such, he wrapped his mouth around her entire cunt and gave it a good, hard suck, biting gently at her labia too as she wiggled against his face and cried out ferally.

He then continued to go back to what he was doing, each fast, hard lick against her clit having her panting and moaning as she dragged her nails through his hair, feeling herself getting ridiculously wet for him. Testament to that, when he slid his fingers into her it was like cutting through liquid silk, fucking her with them hard and watching her become completely carried away with everything he inflicted upon her.

The feeling of her aroused gush dampening his chin as he continued to lick at her vigorously had him so turned on, he could barely stand it, pulling his fingers out and sucking her milky wetness off them before burying his tongue inside her and moaning as he felt her legs close against his head. His tongue rolling over her clit again and again as it lapped up her silky nectar had her reeling, lost in the storm of pleasure, her body shaking.

Lightning bounced at the base of her spine as he sucked on her harder, the vacuum of his lips sending her straight to her second crest, ecstasy glimmering through her as her hips bucked, riding out her orgasm against his mouth, panting in exertion. “Fuck! Oh, fucking hell, you’re too fucking good at that!”

Looking up at her, kissing her inner thigh, he grinned. “I know. Now, you gonna ride me into this bed, or what? Because shit, baby. That got me so damned hard.”  

Moving to straddle his hips, she slid down upon the thick, hard erection waiting for her, kissing her way back up his chest, her hand moving to clutch his throat. “Yeah, he likes being held down.”

His eyebrows fluttered. “Yeah, I do. Mostly though, I just like having you home.”

Now there was a notion she could definitely agree with.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes smut #angel reyes x ofc #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc smut #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

[brazyspirit]

it’s been a while since we’ve seen KODA JOHNSON in the shadow world. the FLEDGELING VAMPIRE resides in NEW YORK and reminds us of CIGARETTE-SCENTED JACKETS, WHISKEY BOTTLES AND GAMBLING CHIPS. rumor has it that they might have an affiliation to NO ONE, but only time will tell where their loyalties really lie. until then, only one thing is certain : the descent into hell will be easy for THE BROKEN BIRD.

FULL NAME ⸻  KODA JOHNSON. AGE ⸻ TWENTY NINE (AT TIME OF DEATH). GENDER ⸻ CIS MALE. SEXUAL ORIENTATION ⸻ GAY. PRONOUNS ⸻ HE/HIM. OCCUPATION ⸻ BARTENDER. ALLEGIANCE ⸻ CURRENTLY NONE. FACECLAIM ⸻ KIT YOUNG.

BIOGRAPHY ⸻ Twenty years in the bustling city of London was how Koda’s path started. A devoted stay-at-home mother and a hard-working farmer of a dad adored their boy despite his antics. As he made his way through the schooling system, it was evident that Koda would most likely follow in his parents footsteps. It was the beginnings of a troublemaker; after-school detentions, letters home, an undiagnosed boy who needed more support than what was offered. He tried his best to be good, in order not to disappoint the person he cherished more than anything; his mother. 

During his teenage years, Koda’s mother fell ill. It was his duty to care for her while his father remained working on the farm, providing a roof over their heads and a stable environment for his mother to recover in. Despite his best efforts, recovery was not god’s plan for Mrs. Johnson, and she succumbed to her illness just a few short weeks later.

The once lively boy fell into the deep end of despair and struggle. No longer attending school and spending long nights out of the house, the frustrations of his father only grew. He couldn’t control his son, he knew the boy was hurting, if the whiskey bottles stashed in his bedroom or empty cigarette cartons thrown on the floor gave anything away.

Koda found his way into local gambling dens, betting his most valuable personal items in exchange for an hour of rush, never returning home with less than what he started with. He was good. He could read a poker face like it was written on their forehead, always knowing when it was time to bow out. That was until he hit his first real jackpot.

Freshly eighteen, Koda found himself going home with thousands in his pocket instead of merely hundreds. He had a skip in his step,overjoyed that he could finally action the plan he had been dreaming of since that fateful day at fifteen.He returned home for what would be the last time - a note scrawled on an old piece of paper with a goodbye and the money on the kitchen table, enough in his pocket to buy his one way ticket to New York.

Leaving the city of London behind, Koda tried to get a fresh start in the world of New York. It was only a few months before his depression got the best of him. He missed his mother, his father… but he knew the man would be better off without his behaviour hindering him. 

The night it happened started much like the others. He spent the day scribbling away in his notebook, shielding it from passersby in the coffee shop he frequented, followed by making his way between the various casinos that the big apple had to offer. It was as if his stroke of luck that had kept his pockets filled for years had finally vanished. Before he knew it, he was out of money. He’d bet his car keys, his apartment, each round spiralling until he had nothing more to give. He’d thrown away everything in a feeble attempt to chase the feeling of euphoria he so desperately needed.

Stumbling into one of the rougher bars, one drink became five, his smart mouth got him in trouble with people he shouldn’t, and fights broke out. Before long, Koda was shoved onto the floor of an alleyway next to the bar, steel-toe boots being kicked into his stomach, a few strangers watching from afar. They were in the rough part of town - no one would report it, no one cared. No one batted an eyelid when fangs reflected in the moonlight, koda being left there for dead, surrounded by his own blood. 

What he didn’t expect was to be bitten. He’d heard of vampires, grew up listening to stories of Dracula and The Little Vampire, but he never dreamed it would actually exist. He prayed the fangs were a figment of his imagination, the desire for death and blood loss conjuring it up.. But it was real, and so was his first feed.

#[ koda ⸻ intro. ] #dih.intro

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - make it home

Part nine:

A week has passed, and you were called out of your class to go to Mr Evershed’s office. Frowning you walked down the hallways only to bump into the twins along the way.

“What did you do?” You hissed.

“Nothing! We swear!” Jordan pouted.

“Then why are we being called to the office?”

“I don’t know, but it sounded important.” Ryan said.

You nodded your head and you all stood in front of Loraine who gestured for the three of you to follow her into the office.

Inside was Mrs Carter, Ken, Mr Evershed and a woman you had never seen before.

“Thank you Loraine, can you close the blinds? This is a privet meeting.” Mr Evershed smiled.

She nodded and left and he gestured to three seats in front of the desk.

“Thank you guys for coming. This is Ken, head of the trust for the school I don’t know if you’ve met him before. And this is Ann, a social care worker.” Mrs Carter smiled.

You looked at the twins who looked at you and shrugged a little.

Walking over you all sat down

“What’s this about?” Ryan asked.

“It’s about you three and not having a legal guardian or carer.” Ann replied.

“Okay? So? Our last worker said we were find on our own?” Jordan scoffed.

“And she’s has since been fired for her irresponsible Behaviour. The three of you are to go into care immediately.”

“Alright hold on what happened to a soft approach?” Mr Evershed asked.

“We need to get this over and done with as soon as possible I have another meeting.” Ken replied.

You scoffed at them all and shook your head.

“Not happening, we have legal right over our parents house.”

Ann shook her head and set a bit of paper on the table.

“Not legal right, you aren’t their biological children, and with no Will to execute all assets including the home and the rest of the money will go to the government to decide what to do.”

“Jokes on you we’re broke.” Jordan snickered.

You slapped his side and he went quiet

“I’m sorry guys but you don’t have a choice, a decision has been made and it’s out of our hands. They have legal right to take everything and legal right to place you in care.” Mrs Carter sighed.

“Not a chance. Im sorry Miss but no, we’ve been fine on our own.” Ryan explained.

“Fine? You three have caused this town more unnecessary cost then the entire school out together.” Ken scoffed.

You glared at him.

“You have no right to talk so shut it.”

“(Y/N).” Mr Evershed warned.

You looked at him and he smiled a little.

“It’s just for the time being okay? Until you’re all old enough to live alone or the boys are able to take you in as adults.”

“Exactly, we already have three homes lined up for you all in nearby towns.”

“Three? We agreed to one?” Mr Evershed asked.

“Sorry but no one wants to take three suspected murderers into their homes, we’re lucky we found the families we did.” Ann shrugged.

“Really? Suspected murderers? You’re one of those people? You read the news and you assume it’s true?” You asked.

You felt the itch underneath your skin, the rage, the pure animalistic side of you wanting to break free and you pushed it down the best you could.

“Look either you come willingly or we get the police involved and we do this the hard way.”

“Right enough stop. You’re not taking them without their consent, I agreed to this under the condition they went willingly and together. Accusing them of murder? Calling them out for being adopted? That’s not on.” Mr Evershed snapped.

“Martins right, you can’t just force them to be separated they’ve been together their whole lives, their better together.” Mrs Carter nodded.

“Please they’re better alone. Remove the ring leader remove the issues. Without (Y/N) their brothers could actually go far.” Ann said.

“So now you’re saying that (Y/N) is to blame for everything?” Jordan sneered.

“All we’re saying is the common cause to everything is them.” Ann said.

You stood up, knocking your chair to the ground as you balled your hands into fists.

“Sit down!” Ryan hissed.

He grabbed your wrist and you slapped it away.

“You have no right to take us away from our home! You have no right to separate us based on some assumptions by good for nothing people with nothing better to do with their lives! You have no right to call us killers when you don’t even know the whole story!”

“I have ever legal right to do this and I will!” Ann snapped back.

You stormed forward, slamming your hands on the desk as you leant over.

Your heart was pounding, ears writing and you could feel yourself on the fine line between human and not.

“You have no legal right to do anything, I will not be leaving, none of us will. This is our home.”

“Then I’ll have a warrant out for you arrests, it’s that simple (Y/N). The easy way or the hard way, your call.”

“Enough! They’re just children leave them be! You can’t treat them this way!” Mr Evershed yelled.

“You don’t get a say you should’ve turned them into social the moment you knew they were living alone!”

“He was trying to help!” You yelled back.

“He was breaking the law, disregarding his duties as a headteacher!” Ken yelled.

“He was protecting us! Keeping us safe!”

You dug your fingers into the wood on the desk and your shoulders heaved as you breathed heavily, casting your eyes to your hands.

“I swear to god if you even try to lay a hand on me or my brothers…”

You dug your fingers into the desk even more, a small scratching sound coming from underneath them.

The twins were right next to you hands on your shoulders, other hands over yours.

“Calm down…” Ryan whispered.

“You need to go…” Jordan said.

“With no legal guardian you will be coming into care, because we’re seizing that house right now.”

“That’s our home!”

Pushing the twins away you spun around and kicked the chair across the room into the wall behind it, snapping the back of it.

“Why can’t you people leave us alone?!” You yelled.

“Call the police!” Ken shouted.

“Don’t! Don’t! It’s fine!”

Mr Evershed rushed over, placing his hands on your shoulders making you look up, yellow eyes boring into his as you breathed uncontrollably, hands trembling at your sides.

“You need to go now, outside.”

You sneered a little and he gave you a look.

“Go, get some fresh air, just take a few minutes. Boys take them.”

The twins rushed you away.

He spun around and glared at the two that were trying to take you away from your only remaining family.

“Martin.” Mrs Carter warned.

“No, no this has to be said. Those three have done everything they could to get better, they’ve improved their grades, they’ve started trying to adjust to a world that apparently hates them for no reason! And you’re just going to rip them apart?”

“They can’t be left alone with no legal guardian you know that Martin.” Ken explained.

“They need a legal guardian? Fine! I’ll be their legal guardian! I’ll watch over them and carrying on working on their grades and behaviour. But I will not let you separate them.”

“That isn’t appropriate.” Ken shook his head.

Ann held her hand up and sat forward a little in her chair.

“You’d be their legal guardian? Knowing full well what’s gone on, what people will say?”

“Yes, okay? Yes! I’ve seen the real side of those kids and they’re good kids. You get the paperwork, I’ll sign it.”

Ann turned to Ken and he just raised his hands. She turned to Mrs Carter who just nodded her head before she finally turned back to Mr Evershed.

“Fine, but whatever they do is on you, so I suggest you put them on a tight leash because they will destroy any shred of reputation you have left. I’ll have the paperwork on your desk desk week, and as of immediately they are to live with you.”

Ann left and Ken just sighed.

“You’re making a stupid mistake.”

With that he left and Mr Evershed turned to Mrs Carter and let out a sigh he’d been holding in.

She smiled and walked over, placing a hand in his shoulder.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fight so hard for a few kids, but I trust you know what you’re doing.”

She left and he took a moment to breathe before he left as well, making his way outside he started to search the car park for the three of you.

He stopped in the middle of the parking lot and looked around.

“Right, I know you three can hear me, where are you?”

He waited a moment and Jordan came around a corner of the building and Mr Evershed jogged over.

You were leant against the building breathing heavily, eyes staring at Ryan as he held your hands to your side.

“You need to control yourself!” Ryan hissed.

“I… can’t…!” You growled out.

You pushed him a few steps back and he slammed you back into the wall, giving you an apologetic look.

Mr Evershed kept his distance as the twins fought to keep you against the wall so you couldn’t break free.

“I thought you guys had control?!” He whispered looking around.

“We do!” Jordan hissed.

“(Y/N) is the youngest, they haven’t had as much practice as us. Our anger is intensified around the full moon it’s why (Y/N) can’t control it, they’re too angry to regain control!” Ryan explained.

You growled lowly and pushed the pair of them and they slammed you into the wall again, sharing a look.

“We can’t!” Ryan hissed.

“We don’t have a choice!” Jordan snapped.

They gripped your arms, and your eyes shot wide open as their grip tightened and you quickly threw them off.

Mr Evershed rushed over to help the pair up before the turned back to you.

Leaning over, your brought your hands into your chest and groaned, hands balled in a neath death like grip as you stared at the floor.

After a minute you slumped against the wall, arms resting on your knees as you breathed deeply, resting your head against the wall with your eyes shut.

“(Y/N)?” Mr Evershed asked.

He was unsure about approaching you, but he did anyways, he walked over and crouched in front of you.

On your skin he se fresh blood, and the twins knelt next to him, turning your hands palms up to show claw marks in your skin.

“It’s fine…” you whispered.

“What did you do?” Mr Evershed asked.

“One way to snap us out of something like that is to trigger our healing, it’s like a reality check really. It stops the transformation before it can happen because our body is too busy healing.” Jordan explained.

“So would it work after?”

“No, though if we get hurt in the full state then it’ll heal faster then if we weren’t.” Ryan said.

Mr Evershed nodded and looked at you hands, carefully inspecting them.

“Come on, let’s get you three back inside.”

“Aren’t they gonna take us away?” Jordan mumbled.

“No, they’re all gone. Quickly now before someone sees them like this.”

The boys nodded and pulled you up, holding your hands in theirs to hide the blood as they led you back into the office and sat you down on one of the chairs.

“I’ve learned to keep this in here now.”

He pulled out a first aid box and the twins peaked over his shoulders.

“You know you don’t need that right?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah we heal fast.” Jordan nodded.

He looked up at the two and shrugged a little as he pulled out some stuff.

“Okay you heal fast. But it’ll make me feel better so humour me on this one.”

The twins shrugged and sat on his desk as he turned to you and started to clean your hands.

Just as they said, your wounds had already healed and you waited for Mr Evershed to finish cleaning your hands before balling them a few times and nodding.

“Good as new?” He asked.

“Yeah, pretty much. Just a few more minutes and it’ll be all sorted.”

He nodded and cleaned everything up before looking around his office and the chair you broke.

“Unfortunately chairs don’t have your healing factor.” He said.

“Sorry?” You offered.

He smiled and shook his head.

“We need to talk, I’ve spoken to the social worker and Ken about what we’re going to do.”

“Run away?” Jordan asked.

“No.” Mr Evershed chuckled.

He crossed his arms and leant against the bookshelf behind him.

“I’m going to become your legal guardian so you can stay here and stay together. You’ll be living with me, we’ll have to sort something out as I only have bedrooms, but the paperwork will be here next week. I just want to make sure that’s okay with you three before I sign it.”

The twins high fived each other and turned to him.

“Cool with us!” They beamed.

Mr Evershed turned to you and walked over, crouching in front of you.

“Is that okay? I know you don’t want to be separated and I’m sorry I can’t do anything about your house.”

You looked up at him before quickly throwing your arms around him.

“Thank you…”

Mr evershed didn’t even get a chance to do anything because you quickly let go and looked at the twins.

“The house!”

Their eyes winded when they realised what you meant.

“What? What about the house?” Mr Evershed asked standing up.

“There’s thing in there that will expose us!”

“We need to go!”

“What’s faster car or running?” Mr Evershed asked.

“Running.”

He nodded and gestured to the door.

“Go, get whatever you need and bring it back to the school, I’ll wait here.”

You three nodded and quickly ran away while he sat at his desk, a small smile on his face as he shook his head as he looked at your files on the table

#ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr evershed #mr evershed x reader #mr evershed x you #mr Evershed imagine #mr evershed x reader make it home

[oconnellthebrave]

[ leah pipes | she/her ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome CAMILLE O’CONNELL to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 25 year old VAMPIRE, who is one of the RETURNED but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be SELF-DESTRUCTIVE, but that’s all a façade to cover up their EMPATHIC nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to GROWING SIDEWAYS by NOAH KAHAN, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.

CHARACTER PROFILE: Full name: camille rose o'connell Nickname(s): cami Birthdate: march 17th, 1988 Age: 25 (turned) Species: vampire Sexuality: bisexual Hometown: vermont Current Residence: New Orleans Occupation: currently none

FAMILY: Parents: Patrick O'Connell - Father (Alive), Catherine O'Connell - Mother (Alive) Sibling(s): Sean O'Connell - Twin Brother (deceased) Other: Kieran O'Connell - Uncle (deceased) PERSONALITY: Positive Traits: empathic, astute, adaptable, altruistic, candid, compassionate, eloquent, gentle, pragmatic, resilient, studious Negative Traits: self-destructive, brazen, finicky, impetuous, opinionated, sly, stoic

HISTORY: (trigger warning for mental illness, death, suicide.) Camille Rose O'Connell was born March 17th, 1988 and she wasn't alone. On that same day only a few minutes later her twin brother, Sean, was born. Patrick and Rose, two newly weds, were overwhelmed with two babies at once which led to a rocky upbringing. So the two grew close, often counting on only each other for support and comfort. Her father, a war veteran, was drafted a few years after the two were born. He came back with PTSD, something that he didn't receive much help for. From then on, Cami became interested in Psychology.

In school Cami stuck to her books, hoping her smarts would make up for her families lack of money. This ended up working in her favor when she was accepted to a nice college that helped her get on the right path for a degree in Psychology. Her brother decided to follow their families long duty of priesthood. So the two ended up splitting for the first time since birth, one going to Chicago and the other to New Orleans.

At first, it felt like life was looking up so instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop she attempted to finally live her life. It however did drop, one night she got a phone call from her uncle Kieran. He was distraught and confused saying that Sean had murdered nine people and right after killed himself. This shattered all plans for college and she quickly packed up and made her way to New Orleans. Deep down she knew there was something mysterious about his death

New Orleans ended up being a place that Cami adored despite the obvious darkness that loomed over the streets. After a few weeks of not finding much about why Sean did what he did, she ended up getting a job as a bartender at Rousseau's. A few months after that she enrolled in a graduate program to continue her degree. Life seemed to go on as normal as it could and each day she learned nothing new about what happened to her brother.

Then Elijah Mikaelson walked into her bar and ordered a drink. He spoke about his troubles and woes, so she decided to let him know his brother was narcissistic and paranoid. Soon after that she was introduced to Klaus who compelled her to give Marcel, a man she often served at the bar, a chance for a possible date. That date led to a series of events that ended up helping her understand what really happened to her brother. With now being aware of the supernatural world that lurked not only in the streets but in her family history, she was able to understand why it felt as if she was always doomed.

The supernatural world ended up being one that she happened to feel at home with. Turns out, her family had a long history of taking care of dark objects. These objects helped humans against different beings. It felt as if this world was where she belonged. But her involvement in that world was dangerous. It was never safe for her and that became apparent when she was compelled by Aurora de Martel to kill herself once Klaus admitted he loved her.

Becoming a vampire brought out apart of Cami, she hoped would never return. She became more impulsive and her anger bubbled into something much harder to control with heightened senses. It took some time, but with the help of her close friends she was able to come back from it. However, it was just in time to meet her death by Lucien.

Death didn't last forever and she wasn't exactly sure how that happened. One day she awoke in a coffin as a violent storm raged over New Orleans. As she walked the windy streets, barefoot, she realized something horrible had happened. So she made her way to the only place she knew would be untouched, the Mikaelson compound.

HEADCANNONS: -under co.-

CONNECTIONS: Klaus Mikaelson - former flame - The hybrid saw Camille first, when he had returned to New Orleans. But the most significant meeting was near a painting the two both seemed to be taken by. After this, Klaus compelled Cami to start a relationship with Marcel. He had told her that he was a vampire and what his intentions were, something she would forget every time he left her eyesight. It became complicated when Cami began a relationship with Marcel and Klaus grew jealous. Klaus would compel her one last time, but Davina Claire made sure it didn't last long. Once getting all her memories back she confronted Klaus about what he had done. The things he had told her and made her do even if he said he was protecting her, she didn't care. It felt like violation and it took some time for her to fully trust him again. However, once she did the two became very close. Their feelings for each other growing stronger as time passed.

After being used as pawn in the fight between Aurora, Lucien, and Klaus. He finally admitted his feelings for her and the two shared their first kiss on Christmas. This was their last happy evening together, because soon after Cami killed herself under the compulsion of Aurora. Thinking that Klaus only loved her for her humanity, she pushed him away hoping that would ease her pain. It didn't, and the two ended up becoming close again only for it to be halted by Lucien's deadly bite. Yet, Klaus made sure that Cami felt no pain during her death. He helped her die being comforted by the idea that he would always keep her memory alive.

Marcel Gerard - former flame/friend- The first night the two had met, Marcel let Klaus know that the woman was either dumb or brave. When approaching her to find the answer, it turned out she was very brave and wouldn't take any crap from the vampire. He found this amusing and let her live, this then turned into something more romantic. However, Cami could never be sure what feelings for Marcel were her own after being compelled by Klaus to gain the mans trust. After Klaus told her that her feelings for Marcel were indeed not fake, she did her best to push the two away. This didn't last long as the two had a summer fling which ended when she decided that it was all too much. Since Marcel also had complicated feelings for a Mikaelson, the two ended up staying close friends and allies.

When Cami died, Marcel took the loss hard and mourned her for a long time.

Davina Claire - close friend/sisterly bond- Camille met Davina because Klaus had compelled her to accept the offer of watching the new witch during a major festival. The two quickly bonded, most likely due to Cami being the only female Davina had seen in months. When tensions between Marcel and Davina were high, she went to Camille for help but she had just been compelled by Klaus to forget everything and leave the city. The young witched ushered Cami inside and began the painful processing of undoing every compulsion. Once getting all her memories back, Cami then began to finally understand the supernatural world. It was Davina Claire who helped make sure that Camille wasn't in the dark about anything. Helping her become aware that the O'Connell family has had a long line of being involved in this type of life. Soon after this, Davina would be sacrificed and later brought back from the afterlife. This would cause a rift between them as Davina ended up taking dark objects from Cami to help bring Mikael back to hurt Klaus.

-under co-

Hope Mikaelson - Cami helped keep an eye on Hope as a baby. Keeping her out of harms way when Mikaelson enemies were on their tails. However, she never got to see the woman grow as she died when Hope was a baby. -under co- Vincent Griffith - close friend/confidant - Elijah Mikaelson - close friend - Hayley Marshall - close friend/confidant - Rebekah Mikaelson - friend - Freya Mikaelson - friend- Kol Mikaelson - annoyance -

#/still working on this #exitium.intro #↷ oconnellthebrave ꒰ bio ꒱

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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