#I gotta try on and I ordered more since I’m still trying to figure out size/need bras also for when I move out (and in general) also pretty

[reminiscingtonight]

Pretending

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Word Count: 955

A/N: Had to celebrate Fletcher's new album with a new fic

Part Two

[WOSO Masterlist]

“I think I should kiss you.”

You laugh, pulling the older girl closer to you. “Well I’m not stopping you.”

Aitana simply snorts in response, burying her face in your neck. You pretend it doesn’t tickle when she breathes out deeply, arms tightening around your waist. “How’s your mami?”

“I think you see her more than I do, Tana.”

It’s been three years but the longing from moving away from home still hasn’t faded. Barcelona’s always been the goal. Ever since you could remember. A product from La Masia, you knew you always wanted to play for the first team.

Sometimes the things you want aren’t always in the cards, hence the detour in your career to Manchester. Ona went to United but you went to City, both of you wanting to develop your football skills some more in a new city. Although your best friend has already returned back to Barcelona, you still have a little more to go before you could go back. 

“Shh,” Aitana giggles, clumsily raising a finger to press against your lips. 

It makes you feel warm, seeing how laidback and relaxed the midfielder seems right now. With all of the pressure she experiences on the daily, it’s rare to see the older girl as bubbly as she is now. After winning the Ballon d’Or, her own expectations have only increased tenfold. 

“Gotta go pee,” she mumbles, finally pushing off of you. You make the move to follow but Aitana presses a hand against your chest, stopping you in your tracks. “No, get me another drink please.” 

You have an amused smile playing on your lips as she makes her leave, dragging some of the other girls with her. 

Ona watches you watch Aitana, sighing under her breath. 

You try to ignore her, but Ona’s never one to mince her words. “I don’t get it.”

You shrug. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

It’s always been the three of you, the trio of musketeers taking on Spain’s youth teams and now the senior one together. You’ve grown up together, experienced all the good and bad by each other’s sides. 

So safe to say Ona’s been here through the years to see how much you’ve fallen for Aitana. 

And just as much as you’ve fallen for Aitana, the older girl seems to be just as allergic to admitting her feelings. 

It’s obvious to just about everyone how much Aitana loves you. It’s in all the small things. The way she makes sure to tune in all of your matches. The way she sends you thoughtless musings every day. The way she always remembers your coffee order whenever you return to town.

But Aitana’s never been one to commit to anything other than football. 

You’ve always known this, so you haven’t done too much to try to convince her otherwise. No matter how much Ona’s always bugging the two of you to make things official or for you to move on, you’ve stayed steadfast in your belief that things will work out in the end. 

At the end of the day no one’s getting hurt but yourself. You’d be willing to wait for as long as it takes if it means it’ll be the two of you at the end. Because you know that’s the only outcome in this drawn out affair. 

You love Aitana and Aitana loves you, so there’s really no other ending to this. So if Aitana wants to pretend like the two of you don’t love each other, you’re willing to play her game. 

“How long are you going to do this?”

“As long as she lets me.”

Ona looks like she’s going to blow an aneurysm but follows you to the counter regardless. Despite your silent pleas for her to drop the topic, she doesn’t. “This is going to wreck you when it blows up in your face.”

“Then I won’t let it blow up.” 

Ona swipes the drinks away from your hands before you can grab them. “Listen to me. I love you and I love Aita but the two of you really need to figure this out. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sighing, you press a soft kiss against the side of her head. No matter how annoying you find Ona’s constant pestering, you know it’s only coming from a place of love. “Thanks Oni. But I will be okay. Please don’t lose any sleep over this.”

Ona looks like she wants to say more, but she bites her tongue.

Instead, the two of you catch up. You’re happy that Ona’s settling in well in Barcelona, but the downside to her going home is that the two of you no longer get to share every moment together. Ona’s laughing at your reenactment of Leila having to deal with the spider in your shared home when Aitana finally returns.

Her eyes light up when she spots you from across the room, hurriedly waving at you. 

You have to muffle your laughter at her drunken state but smile back to her all the same.

You don’t let it show, but Ona’s words cut deep. 

It’s heavy on your heart when you drop her off later, when Ona has to peel Aitana off of you, promising to get the two of them to bed safely. Her words are still ringing around your head when you get a drunken rambling goodnight text from Aitana when you’re getting ready to catch the redeye home.

You’ve been waiting for Aitana for as long as you remember, and you’ll continue waiting for her until she’s ready. 

Aitana’s everything to you.

So if she wants to keep on pretending, that’s exactly what you’ll do.

Even if it cuts you to the bone.

#aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

[savannahsdeath]

hi savannah! i love ur writing a lot!! 😭

can u write something about reader getting high with ellie and.. you know how some people get high and horny? yeah. you can add more if you want, i’m not really good at writing ideas sorry!

- 🐻

DEALER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: you leave your little party with friends in order to visit your favourite dealer..

warnings: 18+!! weed n just smut

writers note: i have another bbf!dealer!ellie idea (the one i made a poll abt) but i still didnt write it and omg idk💔i swear itll be posted soon

you already smoked, quite a lot, but you and your friends agreed that's not enough. and since ellie, the best dealer in your college, likes you the most, you proposed you'll go for more.

and so you were walking through one of the biggest buildings in the campus, as close to the wall as possible, so if anything, you won't fall in the middle of the hallway, after the curfew.

you knocked on the door to her room, messier than anyone elses. you heard her swear under her breath, but she smiled as soon as she saw it's you. she softly, but firmly, dragged you inside, before anyone could notice your strange behaviour.

"look, i won't sell you anything." she immediately annouced, sounding almost disappointed.

you frowned, looking around and swinging your arms. "why not?"

"you had some already." she pointed at you, your red eyes and widened pupils. "plus, i don't trust your friends. i won't take any risks."

you smirked and playfully nudged her. "come on, i bet i'm the most responsible client you've ever had."

"maybe the prettiest one, but you're far from responsible." she shook her head with a shrug. "none of you knows when to stop."

you looked down, biting the inside of your cheek in thought, before catching her gaze again. "but you know. maybe you could-"

"no way." she cut you off with a chuckle.

you sighed and, without asking, sat on her couch, tapping your nails on your thighs, trying to come up with something.

she was visibly surprised by you - not only your visit, but the fact you still didn't leave. she said no, what else was there to talk about?

"look, you gotta give me a small amount, i'll take anything, i don't care." you replied, desperate.

you knew there's no convincing her, and you already felt the itch of a need you could barely suppress. she stared right through you, amused. your eyes already dilated. your hands shaking. the smell of her stash maddening.

you looked back at her and you knew that she was about to let you have it. but not because you asked. she was going to enjoy this.

"what if.. i'll give you one more." she smiled, rummaging through her drawers. "but you'll share it with me, not with them."

you pouted, raising your hands in confusion. "what do you mean?"

she held out a joint for you, but she moved it away as soon as you reached for it. "i mean, someone has to keep an eye on you. and i know how to, you said it yourself."

"but-"

you sighed and agreed. why not? no matter how she puts it, you knew you're going to enjoy her company, and she does have that good stuff.

"whatever you say, ellie." you replied, still pouty that you had to now share your hit. but you knew she's right, plus, you'd have to share it with all your friends otherwise.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

your head was spinning and you were breathing harder. she laughed again as you coughed a little. her hand rested on your thigh, the couch you were sitting on surrounded by dirty clothes.

"feels good." you whispered.

you had weed in mind, but you realised it sounded like you were talking about her touch too late, after these words already escaped your mouth.

she looked at you with a smirk. "feeling good, huh?" her hand ran up your thigh a little more.

your mind was blown and you were way too high to figure out what to do. if that was her plan all along, it was working out perfectly.

you wanted more.

your head was clouded. you were giggling, giggling at yourself, giggling at the world. everything felt so funny and wonderful at once.

you wanted more.

you looked up at ellie and your eyes grow wide as you stared at her. she stared back at you for a few moments. you've never seen her like this.

no, that's not true. you've never felt her like this.

ellie smiled and moved a little closer to you. you could feel her presence and that's all there was.

you took another hit from the joint. and ellie was there to hold it as you did so.

you could feel her lips brush gently against your ear. you weren't sure what she was whispering. you just focused on how her hot breath tingled your neck.

she smiled. she knew exactly what's going to happen next, and she liked the fact that you could barely form any coherent thoughts, even though she wasn't much better, not at this point.

she took the joint from your lips as she looked up at you and smiled, not saying anything. she didn't need to.

she held the joint up and took a long, slow drag as you watched. sometning about it, about how the smoke drifted away when she exhaled, was just so attractive, you instinctively licked your lips. you focused on her soft breaths, making yours synchronize with hers, what helped you stay conscious.

she moved closer and you closed your eyes. you could feel her hair against your face, smell the scent of her hair.

as you opened your eyes, you realised that the world was spinning, and you and ellie were now on her bed. she had her mouth pressed up to yours.

you didn't know how long it's been going on for. maybe you just didn't care. but it felt good.

you gasped, right into her lips, as you noticed one of her hands is beneath your cotton panties. you didn't remember how it happened, but you were glad it got there. it moved synchronously to the rest of her body, but you figured out it was there just to test the waters as she started going down on you with her mouth without actually working with her fingers.

"you're even prettier when stoned." you giggled, not sure if you formed the sentence correctly, but basing on ellie's smile in response - it was understandable.

her tongue laid flat on the wet spot on your cotton underwear, making you realise your pants are on the floor. god, when did all of this happen? you didn't know there's a 'skip' button in real life, but at least you managed to come to your sense in the best moment possible.

"awh- do i really make you feel this way?" she chuckled against your clothed pussy. "i start to doubt you came here just because 'your friends picked you'.."

you hummed, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. "you called me your prettiest client."

"and i don't take that back." she traced the hem of your panties, before sliding her fingers slightly down and caressing the outlines of your slit, barely visible through the soaked fabric. "mmh.. why does it matter now?"

"i'm just telling you- god." your hips uncontrollably raised, pressing against her hand. "just telling you, you shouldn't be surprised by this," you pointed at the surroundings of your lower stomach with your chin, "if you say things like that."

she finally, slowly took your underwear off, humming a little; "mhm". you weren't sure if it was supposed to be an answer for you, or an act of satisfaction at the view, but either one was fine.

she kissed your clit, pressing her tongue followed by her lips against it. the little touch had you moan, feeling a weird feeling of electricity starting from your core travel around your whole body. you didn't know if it was really that magic, or did the weed made you feel so much details.

she repeated this move a few times, each earning a moan or two from you. the knot you had in your head while trying to think of a way to make her sell you some more of her stuff was now in your stomach, loosening with every lick of her, now flattened, tongue. you tugged on the little bun she always had, pulling her closer to you with every small energy boost you got from time to time. you heard the sounds of your juices flow out, right to her mouth.

you squirmed under the bruising grip she had on your thighs, sometimes moving it to your lower stomach to gently press on it. when she did, you could see a spot in the shape of her hand, way lighter than the rest of your body, on the place she just left.

her eyes would sometimes look up at you, looking extremely innocent, what seemed weird compared to how her tongue fucked in and out of you.

ding!

you thought you heard sometning, but you quickly forgot about it, focusing back on ellie.

ding!

now, you were sure you heard something, but still didn't know what.

ding!

you saw your phone, laying on the floor near your pants, light up. your friends were spamming you, but your vision was all blurry and you didn't see anything. before the screen turned off again, you managed to notice one notification;

luccyy💞: idk about you, but for me, buying weed takes less than one hour

#⭑ ָ࣪ ۰ ꒰ 🐻 ꒱ ָ࣪ ۰⭑ #sav n anons ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა #reqs open #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #wlw smut #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie williams x female reader #dealer!ellie williams x reader #dealer!ellie x reader #dealer!ellie williams #dealer!ellie #sav w anons ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

[hockeybabe]

hiiii, could you write something for protective matthew knies :))

My Girl || M.Knies

Not my Gif

Pairings: Matthew Knies x gf!reader

Summary: at a club Matthew notices some of his teammates getting a little too close to you for his liking.

Warnings: drinking, both over 21, swearing, jealous matt, matt got some anger issues, suggestive content.

Word count: 696

Note: matt would be so protective especially since he is one of the youngest. also please send in more requests <3

It was nighttime, and the Leafs had won one of their games. It was a normal occasion to party hard after a win. Especially when making the second round for the first time in over nineteen years and fifty-six years since they won the cup. Matthew was part of the first round but got injured. Now that he was healed, the team wanted to party with everyone.

It broke your heart when Matt was told that he wouldn’t be able to play. He loved the game and wanted to go farther with his team, but things just got in his way. You were over the moon when John invited you guys, but Matthew still had doubts, and he also told you that he wouldn’t be drinking.

Matt, stop pouting; they wanted you here, you know, as a team." You said for the hundredth time. "It just doesn’t feel right. I mean, my fucking injury got in-" You placed your finger on Matt’s lips, shushing him. "We are going to go to this club, have a great time, and go home and remember what a great time it was. Got it?" You said with a pointed look.

Matt raised his hand in surrender; he knew better than to upset you at a good event. The cab had come to a stop, stopping right outside the destination. "Can't back out now." You said, smirking at him walking out and giving the driver the right amount of money. Matt grunted behind your back, not liking how your behaviour changed from snapping at him to suggestive faces and comments.

You make it to the front door, waiting for Matt to catch up. "Don’t try anything." He whispered into your ear, pretending to bite it. You shiver as Matt opens the door, waiting for you to enter. Feeling confident, you walked ahead of him, swaying your hips and feeling Matt’s eye watch you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching as you ordered a drink.

Matt was now thankful he came because he got to watch his sexy ass girlfriend act like she was the dominant figure in the relationship. At the bar, you were met by Michael Bunting; he was older than you and Matt but always acted like he was younger. "How’s it going, Y/n?" Michael asked, taking a sip of his glass of bourbon.

"I’m great, Michael." You said it quickly, staring at Matt as he talked to Mitch and Auston. Matt watched you intently with a beer in hand. You knew that Michael wouldn’t try anything unless you wanted his help, and at this point, you were contemplating it. "Tryin' to make Matty boy jealous, aren't you?" Michael asked, smirking. You scoffed, "Maybe." You answered him.

"What do I gotta do?" He asked, looking down at you. You gave him a look because Michael had helped you do stuff like this before. "Don’t be an asshole." You said, looking up at him as he leaned in to whisper gibberish into your ear. Matt, on the other hand, had a tight grip on his glass while watching you two talk in a seductive way.

Matt didn’t like the close proximity between you two. "Go get your girl, Bud." Mitch said snapping Matt out of it. "You look like you're about to kill your teammate. Go." Mitch ordered after looking at Matt’s confused face. Yeah, I’ll be back." Matt responded, placing his glass down and walking towards you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Matt stalk towards you with a scowl on his face. "A Little close, aren’t you?" Matt said from behind, wrapping his hand around your waist. "We’re just talking." Michael said, taking a few steps back. "Go talk to a non-taken woman." Matt ordered. You watched as Michael's reaction changed from calm to ‘I’m going to punch him’ really quickly.

"You know what, Michael, we’re gonna go. It was nice talking to you about Matt. I’ll see you around." You said pulling Matt away from his older teammate. Matt sighed and frowned "Now I’m the asshole." Matt mumbled. You laughed as you two headed to the exit. "Good luck in practice."

#hockey #hockey players #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #imagine #nhl smut #toronto maple leafs #fluff #Matt Knies #matthew knies fluff #matthew knies #matthew knies imagine #matthew knies x reader #tml #toronto maple leafs imagine

[domesticcaboose]

“Hey, it’s Bradley”

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Gn Reader

TW: Cursing, like a lot of cursing

A/N: it’s my first time actually posting my writing on here so pls be nice! Also, feel free to mention anything we need to fix grammatically. Proofreader and coauthor is @lunamoon1744

“Hey, uh, it's Ro-Bradley. It's Bradley. Fuck it’s probably late where you’re at. Sorry, I just, fuck, look, I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I loved you, love you, still love you and I know this is a shitty way to go about it but there’s a mission and I don’t know whether I'm going to make it back, but I was back at Top Gun for a few weeks, and God, all I could think about was us, you, and how much I love you and how much I fucked you over and I’m sorry. God I'm so fucking sorry an’ I’m not asking you to forgive me but I can't die without apologizing, without letting you know that leaving you was the worst decision of my life and if I could go back I’d-, fuck I’m running out of time, I just, I love you so fucking much and I, I gotta go, fuck, I’m sorry, I love you.”

Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster. God, you loved him, and he had broken your heart. It’d been a few years since the breakup, and honestly you're surprised he still knows your number. Lord knows you had to look back into your contacts to figure out whether he called you through his phone, or someone else's. It was probably the ship's phone, seeing as you still had his cell number in your contacts.

It probably doesn't matter by now. If he went on the mission right after he called you, that would have been 15 hours, 48 minutes, and approximately 56 seconds ago. You begin pacing back and forth across the house. If he was going to die, he’d already be dead, and if he was going to live, he’d already be back on the carrier. Plus, there was no guarantee he was even going back to Top Gun, he could be going straight to his next assignment. You stop dead in your tracks. He could be dead.

Then again, that was the problem wasn't it? It didn't really matter, you would go to the ends of the Earth if he had asked you to, if he had so much as implied that he needed or wanted you to. Maybe that's why you had already finished packing, bag already by the door, heart already knowing what your head was trying to figure out.

Leaning over the kitchen island, you pull out your laptop and start looking for any possible flights to anywhere even remotely close to San Diego and Top Gun. A few hours that pass over your nerves like shitty tap dancers, about 50 tabs, and a coffee or three later you finally come across a flight. It's expensive, significantly more than you would ever pay normally, and through an airline you've never used before. It's also leaving in an hour from an airport 49 minutes away. Taking a deep breath, you say fuck it and start typing your credit card numbers in, because you are tired and desperate and you just need to be there in case he did come back.

God, you hope he's alive.

It was a seven and a half hour flight and a two hour drive, having booked the first flight you found to anywhere close by. You had a bit of a drive to get to Top Gun, but you honestly can’t remember much of your trip. How can you? For all you know, you're doing all of this for a funeral that you're not even sure you would be invited to.

You're not completely sure how you ended up in front of the Hard Deck. Well, that's a lie. You know damn well why you stopped here before trying to find a hotel. It's an aviator's bar. It's where the aviators go after work. You’d been here with him the first time around. When you were dating. When you thought you were going to marry him.

It's stupid, and emotional, and childish to stop. It’s been a little less than two days since he made the phone call, and if he is alive he'd still be on the ship, or in a hospital somewhere. That didn't stop you from walking in, from looking around, from ordering a drink, from sitting down and waiting on some distant hope that he'd pop through the door. You haven't actually figured out what you're going to do when you see him again. But fuck if that didn't mean you still wanted to see him.

It was another three days of watching and waiting, of sitting at the bar with Penny, of wondering whether or not the last actual conversation you will ever have with the love of your life was when you broke up, when he told you he never loved you.

It's your fifth day in San Diego, when you see his Bronco in the Hard Deck parking lot. You know that fucking car anywhere and you know for a fact that if it was here then Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw was alive. Which means he could have damn well called you and informed you of such!

Taking a deep breath, as to not preemptively jump to conclusions, and to not kill the first person that looks at you wrong, you hurry up and force your way through the Hard Deck’s doors, making a scan for tall, brunette, and mustached.

It's not hard to find him. He is standing by a handful of other pilots and Penny. She's under who you assume is the pilot named Pete’s arm, looking very amused by your entrance. Bradshaw, on the other hand, is laughing lazily with his friends, like you hadn't thought he might be dead for the better part of the week.

“BRADLEY FUCKING BRADSHAW!”

The sound of pool balls clinking stops almost immediately, and you hear whispers arising from some of the pilots scattered around the bar. The man of the week looks in your direction, and while his eyes light up, his face falls as you start marching across the floor towards him. “...y/n?”

You feel multiple eyes on you as you stomp across the bar, and out of the corner of your eye you can also see a few heads turn. “What in the ever loving fuck is wrong with you? The fuck was that phone call?” You come to a stop right in front of him, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Have you been landing too hard it’s starting to fuck with your head?” there's a snort on your right, coming from some Ken-doll-looking motherfucker. “Because that shit-”

“Y/n?”

“Is not okay! At all! You don't call someone, and tell them you love them, and that your sorry, and then just fucking disappear! Honestly! Give me one good fucking reason I shouldn't hit you upside your head, I swear to god-”

He interrupts you by pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him, and you use every ounce of self control to not hug him back. He leans slightly back, looking into your eyes, and opening his mouth to speak.

“You came?” …you came? YOU CAME? What in the ever loving fuck did he think you were going to do after he called, go to brunch and have some fucking mimosas? Chill at the beach? Not lose your absolute goddamn mind?

“OF COURSE I FUCKING CAME!” You struggle in his arms before giving up and grabbing his shoulders in order to pull him down a bit so your eye level. “We may not have left on the best of terms, but I still fucking love you! Honestly, you could have called me at any point and I would have shown up because that's what you do when you love someone! And maybe that wouldn’t be my best discission but, fuck, I've never had a doubt that you would-”

“You still love me?” Maybe it was the way he said it, sounding like he was going to cry, or the way he looked like he was in complete shock over the fact that you still love him, even though he’s the one who walked away, but it makes your anger fade from the loud and explosive kind to the tired and worried one.

“Jesus fucking son of a fuck I swear to-” deep breaths, homicide is illegal and there’s witnesses, lots of witnesses, because almost everyone in the bar has turned to stare, nosey fucks. “-Yes. I love you, I loved you when we were dating, I loved you when we broke up, and I love you now, but, if you say one. More. Stupid. Fucking. Thing. I'm going to drown you in the ocean-” and it's true. You do love him. But it's also true that if he doesn't stop interrupting you, you are going to try and throw him in the ocean. It wouldn't work, you've tried it before, but it would make you feel better.

He smiles like a dumbass, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. He puts his hand on your cheek, leaning down and pressing your foreheads together. “I love you too.”

“Yeah, I’m aware, but I swear to god if you interupt me one more fucking time-” which, he of course decides to do by kissing you. Which, not to say that you are complaining, but it's hard to stay mad when he's kissing you like it's all he's ever thought about. Putting both of your hands on his chest, you lightly push him away. “-we’re not in a movie. Kissing me’s not gonna get me to shut up-”

“What if I kiss you multiple times?” And isn't that a tempting offer? But, as much as you love him, that phone call was the worst possible way of getting in contact with you again.

You narrow your eyes, the corners of your mouth twitching ever so slightly up. “You can kiss me everyday for the rest of our lives, but it’s still not gonna stop me from thinking you're an idiot and calling you on it.”

“Promise?”

You can't help but to shake your head and smile. “Goddammit Bradley, I'm trying to be mad at you, you inconsiderate asshole. Yes, yes I promise, for as long as your dumbass wants to keep me-”

“Forever then.” And there it was, that stupid fucking smile that you loved. The one that made you stop yelling, at least for the moment, because he was alive, and he loved you, and he wasn't going to walk away this time. Sighing as you lean into him, the exhaustion of the week finally starts to catch up with you, but at least you know that he's safe.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #gn reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun #topgun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fandom #top gun fic #rooster top gun #rooster x y/n

[multiversefanfics]

Stupid Bet

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Warning: cussing, arguing, mention of sex, little bit a flirting with Bucky if you squint very hard Summary: The guys make a bet to see how long it takes for you to have sex with Steve.

You were the Avengers' new liaison you decided what missions they went on and what they would be doing. You've gotten really close with Bucky even though he was standoffish at first, but he came around especially since you never gave up and always bothered him asking if he wanted to go places with you. You and Bucky were in your office talking about the last mission he went on, how it went, and how he messed up his fingers when they got stuck in a revolving door. “How did you get your fingers stuck in a revolving door?” He sighed and threw his head back “For the last time I was fighting someone, and I went to hit them with the door, but I didn’t know it was revolving” You giggled a bit and helped him tape his middle and ring finger together. “Gotta be more careful, Buck.” after you finished taping his fingers you looked over as Steve walked into your office “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You realized you were still holding Bucky’s hand which you gently let go of “Just taping his fingers, is there something you need?” Steve walked the rest of the way into your office and sat in one of the chairs in front of your desk “Yeah, I was wondering if you approved my mission for tomorrow.” You furrowed your eyebrows and logged into your computer “Nothing came across my desk about a mission for tomorrow.” Just as you finished your sentence Nick Fury walks in “That’s because it came across mine.” You looked up still confused “Why didn’t I get notified?” You leaned your elbows on your desk watching him walk the rest of the way in “It’s a special order, but I do need you to round up Natasha and Stark for me and you’ll actually be leaving in 2 hours instead of tomorrow. It turned urgent and I need you guys there asap.” You admit you were a little irritated, why have you work this position if it’s just going to skip past you, but of course, you did what Fury wanted and called Natasha and Tony letting them know it was urgent and that they needed to get there quickly. You couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t doing your job correctly, you shook those thoughts away. It was the end of your shift and finally time to go home, you took some files home with you that way you would have an early day tomorrow, you looked over some of the files but quickly got tired so you went to your room and fell asleep. Steve and Bucky sat next to each other while Sam and Tony sat across from them and Natasha was busy talking to Nick Fury about her role in all of this. “So, Y/N, she’s hot.” Tony broke the awkward silence among the men they all nodded and exchanged looks “She’s gorgeous” Sam let slip out “But I learned a long time ago don’t mess with a woman that has a license to kill.” They all shared a laugh and agreed “She’s also super hard to get apparently. I looked her up and she’s only had 1 boyfriend and that was in middle school, so I doubt that counts” They all looked at Tony with their eyes wide open “What, I like to know who I’m working with.” There was silence for a while and then Bucky had what he thought was a great idea. “Steve, I bet $100 you can’t get Y/N to have sex with you.” Steve looked over at Bucky with disgust “Buck that’s so disrespectful.” Sam and Tony chimed in adding $100 from the both of them at this point Steve was intrigued “You know what, I’ll take that bet. A month is all I need” They all nodded and shook hands.

It’s been a couple days and they’re back from their mission and the bet still weighs heavy on Steve’s mind, he knows it’s not the right thing to do but he also knows that he’d get ridiculed for not going through with it and Steve may seem like he doesn’t need other peoples’ opinions but deep down he thrives on them. You were sitting at your desk combing through files trying to figure out who to send where, when you heard a faint knock on your door you looked up trying to see if you could figure out who was at the door "Come in." You sat back in your chair watching Steve stroll in smiling at you as he closed your door behind you. "Oh, hey Steve. What can I do for you?" He sat in the chair in front of your desk still smiling, it was a little weird, but you went along with it. "Just wanted to come see you." You furrowed your eyebrows and nodded "Well, I was about to go get lunch do you wanna join me?" You logged out of your computer standing up from your chair Steve nodded and stood up as well "Of course, sounds like fun." Steve was acting a bit weird, but sometimes that's just Steve. The two of you strolled down the hall towards the cafeteria passing other agents and smiling or nodding at them. “So, how you are liking the job?” Once again confused you furrowed your eyebrows “You mean the job I’ve been working for 3 years?” You chuckled awkwardly “It’s great, I enjoy finally being out of the field and I really enjoy hearing the feedback from when you guys come back.” You stared ahead as you both walked into the cafeteria which of course Steve held the door for you, the two of you ordered your food and waited at the end for it to be done when Bucky and Sam walked past and winked at Steve "What was that about?" Steve looked at you and shrugged "I have no clue." Your food was done Steve grabbed your bag along with his and you both made your way back to your office. The two of you sat there, eating, laughing, talking, but unfortunately, Steve had to go do something with Bucky and Sam, so he took your trash and threw it away on his way out. You continued to work for the next few hours until it was time to go home you packed up your belongings and walked out your office door, closing and locking it behind you. You walked down the hall running into Nat on the way out. "Hey, heading home?" You smiled at her and nodded "Yeah, time to start the weekend off right, wanna come over and drink wine?" Nat fixed her bag on her shoulder and nodded "Yeah, I'll meet you there I have to swing by Sam's office and get my watch back." You nodded and walked to your car. Natasha walked up to Sam's office and just as she was about to knock, she heard Steve's voice on the other side of the door. "I don't think I can go through with this bet; she's really amazing we spent lunch together and I don't want to hurt her." Bucky chuckled and shrugged "Okay then you owe us $300 simple." There was shuffling "Oh and you're going to have to live with the shame of not getting laid since 1945." Steve sighed "Fine, fine." Natasha rolled her eyes and continued walking down the hallway. the entire way to your house she didn’t know how she was going to tell you and how you would take it.

It was the next morning and Natasha told you everything she knew, and you were fuming. You didn't even want to go to work but you knew if you didn't show up people would question, and you don't really have any answers at the moment. You paced around your office, at first you were pissed at yourself "How could I be so stupid, why would Steve want anything to do with me?" Then you turned your rage to the guys "Why!" You screamed and threw your stapler across the room shattering a glass window, you let out a sigh grabbed a broom and dustpan and started sweeping up the glass. "Hey, Y/N do you want- Woah what happened here?" You looked over and Saw Bucky walk through the door the anger within you boiled once more, and you threw away the glass you swept up, turning towards him. "You okay?" In one swift motion, you pinned Bucky up against the wall, your forearm against his chest "Tell me about the bet." You growled staring straight into his eyes "Do I need to repeat myself?" Bucky gulped and shook his head but stalled. You pressed your forearm deeper into his chest "Okay okay. I bet Steve $100 he couldn't sleep with you and Sam and Tony joined in adding $100 each." You backed off of Bucky "Sam too?" You didn't care about Tony joining in on the bet that wasn't off-script for him, but Sam? You sighed and stumbled back a bit Bucky tried to catch you, but you punched his arm and walked out to find Tony and Sam. Fuming you marched down the halls looking for Sam and Tony, luckily the two of them were in Fury's office turning in a mission report "You two!" They both turned and looked at you "Uh oh someone got their panties in a bunch." Tony chuckled and elbowed Sam, but Sam was scared and backed up a bit "You two were in on a bet to see how long it would take for Steve to sleep with me!" Fury stood up and walked around his desk to face them. "You did what?" He crossed his arms and watched as they scrambled to find the right words. "Get Steve in my office immediately." He said to Hill she nodded and went off to find Steve. "I can't believe you guys would do this, I thought we were friends." Bucky walked in with Steve and Maria "What's going on?" Steve said as he stood firmly next to Sam "$300 ring a bell?" His face went pale and looked at the other men who threw their hands up except Bucky "Nat told me there was a bet and Bucky told me the details of the bet." They all looked at Bucky "She had me pinned against the wall I didn't have a choice." You rubbed your face and sighed "I'm resigning from my post effective immediately." You turned on your heels and walked out of Fury's office you walked back to your office and started packing your things "Hey, it's about that time want to go get lunch?" You looked up and saw Nat "I'm sorry, but I no longer work here." She stepped into your office "What do you mean?" You finished putting your belongings in a box "I quit, I can't work with people I don't trust." She nodded and helped you pack some things "I don't think you should quit but if that's what you want to do I support you." You sighed and sat down in your chair "I don't want to quit, I love my job, I love hearing the feedback and being a part of the combat without directly dealing with it. I already told Fury I resign." You sat back in your chair rubbing your forehead "Good thing I didn't put it through." You looked up at the voice and saw that it was Fury "I'm sorry I let my emotions get the best of me, I don't really want to quit" He nodded and walked closer "I know, but if you want, I can make it, so you don't have to deal with missions for those 3." You shook your head "I'll do it, but it will be strictly business no small talk just straight missions and that is it." Fury nodded and stepped to the side "They also want to apologize." You shook your head "If it's not sincere I don't want it. Especially if you forced them to do it." He nodded his head and walked out telling them you don't want to hear it. "I'm going home, come by after work?" Nat nodded and watched you walk out of your office.

You were now at home waiting for Natasha to come over, you had put the bottles of wine on the coffee table along with a bunch of snacks and cheesecake. You were feeling a little better but that might have something to do with the 3 glasses of wine you already drank while waiting for Nat. Just as you were setting up Netflix there was a knock at the door you walked over and opened it expecting to see Natasha but no, it was Steve, Sam and Bucky. You crossed your arms and stared at them "Can I help you?" Steve stepped forward but you put your hand on his chest and pushed him back slightly "Look, Y/N we are very sorry it was a stupid thing to do, and we were stupid." You looked at the 3 of them "Where's Stark?" You kept your arms crossed and watched at Tony came around the corner with a huge bouquet of flowers and your favorite chocolate. You accepted the flowers and chocolate and placed them on the couch "I'm going to need more time to be able to forgive you guys I hope you can understand that." They nodded and went their separate ways except Bucky, he stayed at your door, you looked up at him "Yes, Bucky?" He sighed and pulled you into a hug, which wasn't something he does often or at all for that matter, you hugged him back and buried your face in his neck. He kissed your shoulder and whispered in your ear how sorry he was and that he promises to never betray you again. You were always close to Bucky, so his betrayal hurt the most. As the two of you pulled back your phone vibrated it was Nat telling you that she isn't going to make it she got pulled to an emergency mission, you sighed and looked at Bucky "This doesn't mean I fully forgive you, but Nat just cancelled do you wanna come in and watch movies and eat snacks?" He nodded and followed you to the couch after shutting and locking your front door, the two of you sat down and found a movie to watch “Did you really quit?” You sighed and shook your head not taking your eyes off the screen “I took it back, I love what I do, and I can’t just leave.” Bucky let out a sigh of relief “Good, because I’d miss you taping up my fingers after every mission” He chuckled and lightly nudged your shoulder you smiled softly and continued the movie. "Alright, I should get going. See you in the morning." You followed Bucky to the door after he helped clean up everything. "See you in the morning, Buck." You shut and locked the door and went to your room and fell asleep. It was the next morning, and you were running behind you quickly gathered your things and ran into the building and into your office, you sighed and sat down rearranging your things on your desk when suddenly you saw a medium size red velvet box with a black bow on top, you slowly picked it up and read the note, it was from Steve and it said "I am so sorry, Y/N please take this gift and cherish it the way that I have for years." You carefully opened the box and saw a locket, you opened the locket and saw a picture of you and Steve on your first mission together, you couldn't help but wonder why Steve kept that for all these years, you loved sweet gestures and if you can forgive Bucky Sam and Tony, you can forgive Steve too. Sam and Tony got you several of your favorite things and got you food as well and continued saying sorry until you told them it was enough. You leaned back in your chair looking at the necklace, you picked up your work phone and asked for Steve to come to your office, a couple minutes later Steve walked in with his hands in his pockets, he looked like he hasn't slept "Have a seat." He strolled over and sat in the chair in front of your desk "I appreciate the gift Steve and I do forgive you, but it's going to take a bit before I fully trust you again, but I do forgive you." He let out a sigh of relief and nodded his head "I am so sorry Y/N I promise to never do anything like that again!" You stood up and pulled Steve into a hug "I know, thank you." The day went on as normal as did the rest of your life, you did end up dating and marrying Steve, he's never done the same thing or anything like that again.

A/N: I hope you guys like it, it's been a little bit since I've written anything please be nice Divider credit: @firefly-graphics Tags: @megamindsecretlair Main Masterlist - Steve Rogers Masterlist

#avengers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve x reader

[justabigassnerd]

Sick Day

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,028

Warnings - colds, medicine, mentions of Goose and Carole, mostly just fluff

Summary - you're sick with a cold but thankfully your dad is by your side to help you feel better

A/N - hey y'all it's new fic time! this was a lovely anon request so I hope I did the idea justice because I always wanna do right by y'all! I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Like every child. You were prone to getting sick quite easily. At four years old, your immune system was still developing and so it was easy for a small bug that wouldn’t bother someone like Bradley to bother you. It always broke Bradley’s heart when you were unwell because there was only so much, he could do to make you feel better and he felt powerless.

This particular instance, you weren’t massively ill. You were running a slight temperature and you had a bad cough, but Bradley was relieved when he took you to the doctor’s and learnt it wasn’t cause for concern. As long as he kept you home to rest, gave you medicine and plenty of fluids, you’d recover in no time. When he had arrived home from the doctor’s, he called your kindergarten and told them you wouldn’t be in for a few days before texting Maverick to let him know he needed to be at home until you were well enough to go back to kindergarten. Bradley then took you upstairs, figuring you’d want to rest in your comfy bed.

“Okay, y/n/n. You wait right here and I’m going to get you some medicine. Sound good?” Bradley asks as he goes to put you down on your bed, only stopping when you whine in protest and cling tighter to him.

“No, daddy. Don’t leave.” You whine hoarsely, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Oh, honey, you’ll feel better if you rest. I’ll come back.” Bradley tries bargaining with you, fighting to not crumble when you pull away slightly and give him your famous puppy dog eyes.

“Wanna stay with you.” You whine once more, making Bradley fall apart right then and there.

“Okay, fine. Come on. Let’s find you some of your medicine.” Bradley says, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom where the medicine cabinet was. He manages to find your medicine easily since it was at the front of the cabinet, but he had a much more difficult time trying to open the bottle and pour it on the spoon when you were refusing to let him put you down which meant he only had one free hand.

“Alright y/n/n. I have to put you down, okay? It’ll be quick, I promise. I’ll sit you right here in front of me, give you the medicine and then you can have some more cuddles. Does that sound like a plan?” He bargains, sitting you on the counter right in front of him as promised and sorted out your medicine as quickly as humanly possible. Your bottom lip juts out in a pout when Bradley brings the spoon of medicine towards your mouth, and you shake your head fervently in protest.

“Yucky.” You state, glaring at the spoon in front of you as Bradley shakes his head with a soft laugh. Oh, if Carole and Goose could see him now, they’d be laughing their heads off. Carole always told Bradley that when he was younger and he got ill, he’d be an absolute menace when it came to taking his medicine so much so that his parents had to tag team in order to get him to take it. It was clear you inherited your hatred of medicine from your father.

“I know. But it’ll make you feel so much better.” Bradley says, watching as you consider his words before looking back up at him.

“Promise?” You ask, beginning to trust your dad but needing the promise to solidify your choice.

“I promise, sweetheart. Now come on. Open wide, this plane’s gotta land somewhere.” Bradley then says, miming as if the spoon was one of the jets he flew and ‘flew’ it towards your mouth, even mimicking the sounds of the engine as you giggle before taking the medicine once it reaches you. Once you’ve swallowed the medicine, Bradley puts everything away and scoops you up once more in his arms.

“There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bradley questions with a grin as he bounces you on his hip slightly, eliciting a laugh from you that was quickly replaced by a cough.

“Okay, let’s get some rest, shall we? Do you want to lie on the sofa and watch a movie?” Bradley then asks, getting a nod from you as you wind your arms around his neck and snuggle closer. Bradley heads downstairs with you in his arms, first making a trip to the kitchen to fill a bottle with water for you and grabbing a few snacks before heading into the living room. Jokingly groaning as he eases himself to sit down after putting the bottle and snacks down on the coffee table. He lies across the sofa with you atop his chest and he pulls the blanket that sat on the sofa across the two of you tucking it around you more than himself.

“I wanna watch Lilo and Stitch please.” You request, snuggling as close as humanly possible while Bradley nods, finding the movie and hitting play before he wrapped his arms around you to give you the cuddles, he bragged had healing qualities. You barely made it half an hour into the movie before dropping off to sleep. Bradley looked down at you to check on you and smiled softly to himself. He knew from the second he laid down with you that it was just a matter of minutes before you’d fall asleep. You hadn’t slept well through the night before, and he knew the medicine could cause drowsiness. Bradley wanted you to get more sleep so he remains still so you can get the rest you need. He carefully placed the back of his hand against your forehead and was glad to discover your temperature had gone down since he last checked. Bradley then pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running a gentle hand up and down your back as he allowed his own eyes to slip shut so he could join you in sleep.

Sick days weren’t fun for anyone. But with a dad like Bradley, you knew you were in the best possible hands.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x daughter!reader #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x daughter!reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄOur Beta 2ꨄ

Yandere Omegaverse Au

Sano Manjiro, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Read the first one for context!!

Part One

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Japanese language is red

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There will be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Our Beta 2

“Koko, I… I didn’t sign up to be a sex slave or a cuddle buddy. I c-can’t take this anymore!”

Y/n sat on the bed with her back leaned against the headboard, eyeing the executive in front of her with a pleading gaze as he could only stare back with pity and crossed arms. It had been two months since the additional heat and former executive Y/n has been entangled with a web of arms almost daily.

“I understand, but there’s nothing I can do. Trust me, I do feel sympathetic towards your situation, as this was an unexpected circumstance, but you know as well as I do that no one can go against the Boss's orders.” He sighs. Her head falls on her hands before she glares at him once more.

“I’ve been locked up in this room for, I don’t even know how long without a phone, and with stupid journals and board games as a means of entertainment. I’ve seen all channels and have streamed hella shows on the tv. Koko, just please help me escape. They-!”

“Stop right there. You know that either one of us could get killed if I help you. Just hang in there and be patient. I-I’ll try to find a way to at least talk you out of being stuck in this room. You can’t try anything, Y/n. It’ll only get worse.” He states as he begins to walk to the doorway.

“When are they coming back?”

“They’re on a mission right now. I don’t know when they’ll be back.”

She nods in response as he leaves and shuts the door.

I’ve gotta get out of here. I can’t be here if I’m not going to be an executive. This is torture. I’m not even an alpha.

Y/n might’ve more inclined to have accepted the terms if she would’ve been told about it before becoming an executive, having had a crush or two at the beginning, though her beta instincts not being affected as much as an alpha would to their attraction. Keyword, ‘might.’ She’s not really the type for that kind of job anyway, but it would have been nice to have had the option instead of being forced to do this. Especially with the lack of freedom.

Not to mention, she never consented to any of that, embarrassment still lingering as she thinks back on the events as she rubs the scar caused by one of the Haitanis biting her shoulder. It’s been a while so it’s fading but it was inflicted enough to last this long.

Finally deciding to make a move, she thinks of a plan to escape. Koko is probably in his designated room, face planted on his laptop screen so she shouldn’t have to worry about him, nor the alphas and omegas who are on a mission. Yes the security cameras will capture her leaving, but if she’s gone it won’t matter anyway. They’ll see the empty room. That leaves the guards. Fortunately, she gained some physical skills from her time as an executive so she wasn’t worried about fighting them off. She can find a hotel to stay in and get a new card from the bank. She’ll figure out her phone later.

She hops from the bed as she makes her way to the door. When she knocks on the door, she moves a step back to get ready for her attack. Once she hears the door click she takes a deep breath before blowing it out, jumping on the first guard that opens the door, both of them falling with her landing on top.

She punches him until he’s knocked out just in time for the second one to come behind, her standing up to grab his wrist near the shoulder that his hand was planted on, and swings him over, his body landing on the floor before she knocks him out as well. When that was over, she took a breath once more, eyeing her shaky hands as she headed to the exit. Adrenaline pumps as she runs, anticipating her freedom as she gets closer.

Once she makes it, she grabs the door and snatches it open, expecting guards to attack but only being met with icy blue eyes glaring at her.

“Fuck!” She tries pushing past him, only to be snatched painfully from the wrist as he drags her in, shutting the door behind them.

“S-Sanzu! Wait, please!” When they make it in front of the designated bedroom, he crosses over the bodies with a look of disgust.

“Pathetic. You can’t even do your job.”

He shoves her into the room. She turns back to him and grabs his arm before he can leave.

“Sanzu! P-please don’t tell Mikey! I just…!” He holds his hand up with narrowed eyes. She releases him and steps back. Pulling out his phone, begins dialing a number. Putting the phone to his ear, he begins speaking in his language. Y/n could only stare wide eyed in fear as to what could be planned for her. The only word she recognized was ‘traitor’ and that didn’t make her feel any better. When the call ended, he placed his phone back in his pocket before pulling out his gun and pointing at her. She froze as he walked closer to her. Before she could process anything, he pulled it back before landing a blow on her head with the butt of the gun, knocking her out. He catches her body before it falls and places her on the bed, leaving the room once he is done.

When she awakens, an excruciating pain in her abdomen catches her attention as her face scrunches and grunts leave her mouth. She attempted to move her arm to wrap around the pressure but she looked over to see that a cuff was connected from the chain hanging from the post. Her arm failing to budge caused her to move her leg which is also restrained against the bed tightly.

A wet liquid gushes out of her uncontrollably causing her to squirm in discomfort, the sensation of it dripping down her bare ass making her sick as she’s never been used to this kind of slick forming from her own body. Finally, she’s aware of her surroundings when she hears a loud scream in the room.

“P-PLEASE…!” The sound of an object making contact with flesh caused her worse pain as she recognized the word, meaning someone’s demise had been completed.

“Boss! I won’t let it happen again! Sp-spare me for my fam-!”

“Shut up.” Mikey hissed. The same sound made an impact once more, interrupting the victim causing her to flinch as tears built.

That must be the guards. I’m really going to die like this.

“Ah Beta, you’re finally awake.” Ran says as he walks over with the bloody baton on his shoulder, smirking as he looks down at her.

“Hey, you’re looking a little warm. Let’s fix that” Rin says before snatching the blanket that’s covering her naked body away. She gasps as she tries to use her legs to cover herself in reflex, failing miserably. It doesn’t matter how many times they have seen her naked, she will always feel humiliation considering they were her partners in quite a few missions. Also to be in such a vulnerable state, sweaty, hot, her own aroma filling up the air, and in straight agony, bare in front of the psychopaths she used to look up to, her being the newest executive after all.

She groans when another shot of pain surges through her body after another gush of slick falls out, gritting her teeth as her hands turn to fists. She breathes heavily as she tries to contain the new urges, her body surviving through an experience she has never had to deal with before. A hand grabs her chin, forcing her to look towards the opposite side of the bed, Mikey standing above her, his hair hovering over as he leans over.

“This is your fault.” He states with a stoic expression before releasing his grip and walking away from the bed, towards the exit. On the same side, Sanzu gets closer with a smirk on his face.

“Enjoy your heat, Beta.” They all walk towards the exit, shutting the door behind them as they leave Y/n and the dead bodies in the room.

After a while of suffering through the process with tears, slick, and agony, the door clicks open as a few footsteps make their way in. Koko came into view with a concerned look on his face, shaking his head.

“Y/n, I told you not to try anything.” He groans, palms rubbing down his face. She could only respond with whimpers and sniffs as she couldn’t form the words to express her distress.

“They’re planning to keep you here for the entire duration of your induced heat. I’m sorry, Y/n but it’s unknown as to when it will be over.” He resists the urge to cover her with the blanket, not wanting to deal with the repercussions that would come.

“K-koko please…! Unchain me f-for just a m-minute… I need t-to…t-take care of myself!”

“I cannot risk my own safety, Y/n. You will have to endure.” He sighs in pity. He looks over as the employees drag the bodies out and clean the evidence.

“Next time, please don’t let this happen again. For your own sake.”

Y/n’s heat lasted for a week and a half before she finally ended with no release or anyone to help her through. The omegan urges haunted her throughout the process of trying to survive. Nobody was allowed to check on her after the cleaners came. She wasn’t given food or water and had to endure with an empty stomach and dry throat, not that she would’ve been able to eat or drink anything anyway with her discomfort.

When it was over, she was too weak to speak or move, her eyes hollow as she could only take breaths and lay there. Finally, employees cleaned and fed her, a slow process before they left after chaining one of her ankles to the bed. She spent the next week becoming healthier, only allowed to get up for the bathroom. There were no signs of any executives until Mikey slept in the same bed one of the nights after it was over, holding her. The other omegan executives getting their own time with her when their boss allows it.

When Y/n was completely healthy, she was used once again as a heat guide for them as they shared the bed, bundled up in different nests made of clothes and blankets. She reluctantly accepts her fate, having no choice but to comply and survive.

#yandere x reader #yandere #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #bonten #bonten x reader #bonten trio #sano mikey manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #ran haitani #ran x reader #rin haitani #rin x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse au #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #yandere tokyo revengers

[cecilysass]

Shine On (4/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 4: The Art of Profiling

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 20, 2015

The pizza that Fox Mulder ordered isn’t from a pizza place Jackson has ever heard of, like Domino’s or Pizza Hut, but it’s really good anyway. Or at least it tastes good to someone who hasn’t eaten all day. Jackson eats the first piece really quickly, then he grabs for a second without thinking, forgetting his manners. When he realizes what he’s done, he hesitates.

“Go for it,” the older man says, his eyes darting sharply back and forth between the pizza and Jackson’s face. “Eat as much as you want.”

Fox Mulder has been acting much more intense ever since Jackson told him about the red-headed lady.

Jackson’s tired, and he has only barely skimmed the surface of the man’s difficult mind, but he can tell that the guy’s stunned by the news. Fox Mulder’s mind is channeling down a dozen different paths right now: fast, mazelike thoughts, like bobsleds going down tracks. A current of sharp worry running through like a winter chill.

It’s honestly exhausting to try to figure out. Jackson closes off the shine for now, takes another big bite of pizza. This sausage is a little spicy, which is exactly how he likes it.

“I have a lot of questions for you,” Fox Mulder says, his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. But I … gotta ask some of them.”

Jackson nods reluctantly, his mouth full. He doesn’t feel like answering questions at all. Still, he supposes the more he gets out of the way, the better.

“You said you have visions,” the man says, setting his own piece of pizza down. “Do you have other … abilities?”

Jackson studies him cautiously as he finishes chewing his bite of pizza. He’s not in the habit of discussing what he can do. It’s only really ever been trouble when he has, so he’s almost instinctively secretive about it. But things are different now. And Fox Mulder, well, he seems to know all about this kind of thing.

“Yeah,” Jackson says carefully. “I do.”

The man runs his hand over his mouth. Jackson notices he’s only eaten half of his slice of pizza. Either he’s not hungry, or he’s too distracted.

“You can read thoughts,” Fox Mulder guesses, leaning back, speaking with certainty. He folds his hands in front of him. “You can focus on other people’s thoughts. Not just one person, but several at once.”

Jackson sets his slice of pizza down in shock. “How did you know that?”

“You can move objects, too.”

Jackson blinks at him. “I have been able to do that. Some. I could do it easier when I was little.”

“What else?”

“I can, like, change people’s perceptions. What they see. Not for forever, just for a little while. So, if I, like, need a distraction in class or something, I can make the teacher think someone opened the door and mooned us. Stupid stuff like that.”

Fox Mulder looks undeniably fascinated. “Wow,” he says. “Interesting.” He taps his fingers on the table. Jackson doesn’t have to use his shine to see that the man is thinking this over. “So does that mean you could effectively shapeshift? If you wanted to?”

“Yeah,” admits Jackson. “At least I can make other people think I look like someone else.”

“Huh,” the man says, squinting thoughtfully. He tilts his head, looking at Jackson again. “Are you reading my mind right now?”

“No,” Jackson says honestly.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired,” Jackson says. “It’s work, sometimes. And no offense, but you’re kind of complicated and hard.”

Fox Mulder chuckles. “I don’t know if I should take offense at that or not.”

“I did read your mind earlier,” Jackson confesses. “And the red-haired lady …. she was really easy. I hardly had to try with her at all. It was like her thoughts just flew at me. I was wondering if that was because she was my birth mom. Do you think that could be right?”

The man stares at him blankly, not directly answering. “Her name is Dana Scully.”

“Dana Scully,” repeats Jackson.

“Have you ever heard that name before?”

“No,” Jackson says. “I don’t think so.”

“Did your parents tell you anything about your birth parents? Who they were, where you were from?”

“I don’t think they knew anything about them,” Jackson says. “It was a closed adoption.”

Fox Mulder nods, scratching his chin. “Yeah,” he says. It’s like a cloud of sadness has fallen over him. “Yeah, it would have been.” He fixes Jackson with a curious look. “Do you … have any questions for me? About any of this?”

“Uh. Sure.” Jackson looks around the room, slowly, as if the best question to ask might be scrawled on the walls. The faces peering out of the framed photos draw his attention again, but it’s all so much. He looks away, back at the box of pizza in front of them instead. “Is it… okay if I have another slice, Mr. Mulder?”

The man laughs a little, crossing his arms. “You can just call me Mulder.”

“I think I’m eating more than you, Mulder,” Jackson points out seriously. “It doesn’t seem fair. It’s your pizza.”

“I told you, eat as much as you want.”

Jackson feels like he has been polite enough. He shrugs. “Thanks,” Jackson says, taking another slice.

“Jackson,” Mulder says, watching him eat, his voice suddenly too casual. “Do you have any idea who your birth father is?”

Jackson picks up his piece of pizza and studies it, pulling off a particularly delicious-looking piece of sausage and sampling it. “Well,” he says, through a mouthful, “I’ve got a guess. Based on certain clues. But I don’t know for sure.”

“Clues you’ve read in people’s minds? Or clues you’ve noticed?”

Jackson shrugs again. “Both, I guess.” He gives Mulder a look, raising his eyebrows.

There’s a pause.

“What clues?”

“Well, I’m not stupid,” Jackson says matter-of-factly. “That woman, Dana Scully, was here, fighting with you. Lots of big feelings. Then, the way you’re acting now. Like you think I’m a brand new iPhone and you can’t stop looking at me. And how you seem to know things about me. That’s a bunch of clues.”

Mulder has been sitting with his arms crossed, and he hasn’t moved the entire time Jackson’s been talking. But now Jackson can see a tear sprouting in his eye. It surprises him. Wayne Van De Kamp, his father, would never have cried in front of him. Mulder blots it with his sleeve, and Jackson sees his hands are shaking, too.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that so carelessly, kind of flippantly. It’s obviously a big deal to Mulder. Really, truthfully, it’s a big deal to Jackson, too—something he’s wondered about his whole life. But right now he just can’t have everything feel like a big deal all at once. Or he’ll explode or something.

He meets the man’s damp eyes.

“Yeah,” Mulder says roughly, trying to smile. “Okay. A lot of clues.” He pauses, uncrosses his arms, places his hands on the table. “I get the sense you can’t handle a lot more emotional drama right now, Jackson, and I get that, I really do. Believe it or not, I’ve been in that place myself.”

Jackson’s speechless. It’s like the man read his mind, but that’s not possible.

“I just want to say, we can talk about it whenever you want to,” Mulder adds. “No pressure.”

Jackson nods his head up and down, licking his lips nervously.

***

After dinner, they go back into the part of the room with the couch, which is surrounded by all the messy piles of books. Jackson sits on the floor and starts picking up volumes curiously. “The Art of Profiling?” he says. “Is that an art book?”

“No,” Mulder says with a smile, trying to kick piles out of the way. “It’s psychological profiling. Like for criminals.”

“Oh,” Jackson says, making a connection. “Like on Criminal Minds.”

“What’s that? A TV show?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “My parents love it. It’s about a team of FBI agents who profile dangerous criminals.” An exciting thought occurs to him. “Wait, is that what you did?”

“Yes,” Mulder says. “No. Kind of. I was a profiler, years and years ago. But then I was put on the X-files, where I investigated cases that had unexplainable, supernatural associations.”

“That’s why you have books like this,” Jackson says. He lifts the book Sasquatch: Diverse Perspectives. “Or this?” Extraterrestrial Abductions Beyond the Media.

“Yeah,” Mulder says, a self-deprecating shrug. “That’s right.”

“That’s badass,” Jackson says, a root of an idea occurring to him. He belatedly realizes his mistake. “I mean, that’s cool. Very cool,” he corrects himself.

“It was badass,” Mulder agrees, seemingly unaffected by Jackson’s profanity. “Although… it could be difficult. We went through a lot, working on the X-files. Scully and me.”

Jackson absorbs this information. “So you and Dana Scully worked together on the X-files. In the F.B.I.. That’s how you knew one another?”

“We were partners,” Mulder says with quiet precision, like this sentence is very important.

They’re just three words—we were partners—but Jackson can tell they tell an entire complicated story the length of a book or more. His shine cries out to be used, but Jackson pushes it aside.

“Mulder,” Jackson says slowly. “Is it a coincidence that you and my birth mom worked on these X-files … and that I have these abilities?”

“No, Jackson,” Mulder says, sighing heavily. “It’s probably not a coincidence.” He sits on the couch, looking down at Jackson still sitting on the floor. “There are things that both of us were exposed to that could have … caused the abilities.”

“But you guys don’t have them yourselves, right?”

“No. Not like you.”

It’s a frustrating answer. “Not like me? Or not at all?”

“Some things I want to wait to talk to you about,” Mulder replies. “Until we’ve had a chance to talk to your mother, too.”

Your mother.

Jackson inhales sharply, the words sending an unexpected shock through him.

“I meant Scully, of course,” Mulder says quickly, noticing his reaction. “I’m sorry.”

“Dana Scully isn’t my mother,” Jackson says with emphasis. “I have a mother.”

“I know.” Mulder’s eyes look impossibly sad. “I’m sorry, Jackson. I know.”

“I’m not looking to replace my parents,” Jackson says tightly. “That’s not why I’m here or what this is about. They’ll always be my parents. I love them.”

Mulder appears to sink further into the couch. “Yeah,” he says. “I can tell you do.”

Jackson looks down quickly at the stack of books again, playing silently with the cover of Criminology Through The Ages. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten angry. He knows Mulder didn’t mean anything by it, and he’s having to struggle with his shine now to keep from sensing any bad feelings or thoughts coming off of Mulder.

It’s just Jackson feels almost disloyal, sitting here talking to this man, learning this information about his birth parents’ lives, when his parents just died. When they probably died because of him.

“Jackson.” Mulder’s voice is kind. “What were they like? Your parents. Do you want to … tell me about them? I don’t know anything about them.”

Jackson pauses, still staring at the book in his hand. “Yeah,” he says. He tries to find the right words. He has to be the person who remembers them, who speaks for them to the world now. “They were … they weren’t anything like me. But they were great.”

Mulder waits patiently, his soft eyes on Jackson. Jackson puts the book back carefully on top of a pile.

“My dad was the shop teacher at Rawlins High School. He was good at woodworking, cabinetry. He was always trying to teach me.”

“Were you good at it, too?”

“No,” Jackson says with a tiny smile. “I was really, really bad at it.”

“Oh yeah?” Mulder echoes the tiny smile.

“I couldn’t cut straight. I forgot to measure,” Jackson says, shaking his head. “I was always disappointing him.”

“Not really,” Mulder guesses softly.

“No,” Jackson agrees, just as softly. “Not really.” He’s quiet, thinking more about his goofy, sweater-vested dad. “He was always cheerful. He thought you should look on the positive side of things, you know? Really into baseball. He coached my Little League team for a while.”

“That’s good,” Mulder says encouragingly. “It’s good to play sports.” He’s quiet, too. “And your mom?”

“Her job was running the church preschool,” Jackson says. “She was always singing. She loved holiday decorations, and to cook and bake.” He feels tears threatening. “She is just … she was a really good mom to me. Like, she hugged me all the time. I acted like I didn’t like it, but I did.”

“I’m glad she did that,” Mulder whispers. “I’m so glad.”

“She was really Christian. Really into church. They both were.”

“You were raised religious?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “Lutheran.” He glances at Mulder wryly. “But I was really bad at that, too.”

Mulder returns the look. “I’m not very good at that myself,” he says. “Scully’s religious, in her own way. But I’ve never been … that kind of believer. It’s just never made sense to me”

Something warm blooms in Jackson at being understood in this way. It’s never made sense to him, either.

“What are you good at?” Mulder asks. His tone is gentle, but Jackson’s shine is suddenly alert, suddenly aware of what’s underneath the man’s exterior. Mulder is hungry to know more about him, desperate for any detail. His need is so overwhelming, Jackson closes the door on it quickly.

“I don’t know,” Jackson says casually. “I’m good at math, I guess. Math comes easy to me.”

Mulder’s face lights up. “Scully’s amazing at math.” Looking over at Jackson, he seems to regret his words. His scolding to himself shines through. —stop making everything he says about me and Scully. “Sorry. You’re telling me about yourself.”

“I like to run,” Jackson continues. “I’m pretty fast, and I think I’m a good distance runner. I was thinking maybe I’d try out for the track team in high school.” He pauses. “But I guess I’m not going to high school now.”

“Come on,” Mulder says. “Of course you’re going to high school. Your life isn’t over.”

“I’m most likely going to prison,” Jackson mumbles darkly.

“Nah. Not going to happen.”

“I don’t even know where I’m going to live,” Jackson adds. “Where I’m going to stay tonight.”

“You’re obviously going to stay here tonight,” Mulder insists. “After that, we’ll figure it out.”

The lightning-fast image of a school building with a sign— Farrs Corner High School—and then another fast image, the two of them, Mulder and Jackson, running side by side on a country road, a road that looks a lot like the road right outside the farmhouse. Then almost instantly, more scolding in Mulder’s mind: Way ahead of yourself. Stop it. Haven’t even told Scully. Need to confirm.

“How will we confirm?” Jackson asks quickly. “What does that mean?”

Mulder’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Sorry,” Jackson says. “That was kind of rude of me, probably.”

“I have to remind myself you’re listening,” Mulder says with a small smile.

“I normally try to hide it more,” Jackson says. He stands up, stepping around the books to sit next to Mulder on the couch. “But I mean … what’s the point if you already know, right?”

“I was just thinking that before we introduce you to Scully, we should run DNA,” Mulder says. “Yours against mine. To confirm it.”

“Why?” Jackson says, frowning. “You don’t believe me?”

“Can’t you tell that I believe you?”

Jackson sighs. “Yeah, I think you do.” He kicks out his long legs and leans his head back against the back of the couch. “But like I said, you’re not the easiest.”

“The people that Scully and I used to be involved with,” Mulder says, “were the kind of people who would go to extremes. Even extremes like convincing a kid his birth mother was someone she wasn’t. Like planting ideas into people’s heads. I don’t think you’re lying, but I think it would be smart to know for sure.”

Jackson swings his head to look at Mulder. “Who were these people?”

Mulder regards him with a troubled expression. “I’ll answer that, Jackson. But I think you need to answer this, too: who drove you here? To Virginia?”

“I told you,” Jackson says, folding his arms defensively, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?” Mulder’s eyebrows draw together in concern. “It worries me a little. Did the person who drove you ask you not to tell me?”

“Yeah, they did,” Jackson admits. “But I don’t think they’re one of these bad people you’re talking about. They were just trying to help me.”

“But Jackson,” Mulder says urgently, “you need to understand that—”

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” Jackson insists, and his voice sounds younger than he intends. “Please. Just trust me.”

Mulder rubs his temple with one finger. “Okay,” he says simply. “I can do trust.” He leans forward on his forearms. “But still, Jackson, I think we gotta do the DNA test. If you’re not … the person we think you are—and who Scully thinks you are, it would be too hard for her.”

“She’s been wanting to see me that bad?”

Mulder is surprised. “Of course she has. Of course.”

“But it was a closed adoption. Her choice.”

Mulder opens and closes his mouth, again seeming not to know what to say. “Since the second she let you go,” he says, his voice strained, “she’s been wanting to see you again.”

Jackson’s shine pulls in an image then of a baby in a crib, crying, and then the woman Mulder calls Scully, younger, crying and crying, inconsolable.

It’s all too sad, and Jackson is sad already.

“Okay. DNA test tomorrow then,” Jackson says, shrugging. “No big deal.”

“Great,” Mulder says, standing up. “Now I thought I’d show you where you’ll be sleeping if you want. I’ll have to put sheets on the guest bed first. Maybe you can help me. This place used to be a little more organized when Scully lived here.”

“You have a guest room, huh?” Jackson says. “Fancy.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says in a strange voice. “It’s just an extra bedroom. Small. Not too fancy.”

It was supposed to be your room. In case we got you back somehow. Mulder’s thoughts are suddenly and unexpectedly clear.

“Then I guess I better sleep in it,” Jackson responds flatly, following along behind him.

***

#xfiles fanfic #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #xf fanfic #msr #jackson van de kamp

[kuzann]

Escape from the Holidays

My Holiday Truce present for @deuynndoodles! Sam and Tucker get Danny away from the Santa argument for some much-needed relaxation. 💜 Also on Ao3!

Danny trudged his way through the fall season, doing his best to ignore the Christmas merch that was already showing up in stores by Halloween. Holiday creep was annoying in general, but for Danny it acted as an omen of things to come once December rolled around. As the weeks ticked by the knot of stress and anxiety grew in the pit of his stomach; the worst month of the year was approaching and there was nothing he could do about it. He would simply have to endure whatever misery the yearly argument brought just as he did every year.

December 1st arrived. The more restrained organizations of Amity Park at last began to put up their Christmas decorations. FentonWorks lit up in red, white, and green just like the rest of the neighborhood and, like clockwork, the Santa argument began. Danny was long past caring whether Santa Claus was real or not; the only thing that mattered was the fact that the argument made every single December a writhing mass of stress and mess cleanup.

Five days after the start of December he and Jazz sat in the living room after being summoned for a family board game, only for the Santa argument to overshadow everything before the game could even make it out of the box. Jazz hid her face in her newest psychology book while Danny glowered at his parents and wished he’d thought to grab his phone before his dad pestered him into coming downstairs for ‘family time’.

He was just checking his watch for the dozenth time when the front door slammed open. Sam and Tucker hurried into the living room, still breathless from running over. The sudden intrusion put a temporary pause on the argument as the Fentons turned to their new guests.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, there’s a ghost attacking the docks!” Tucker said, still a little breathless from the run as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“You gotta hurry before he gets away!” Sam added. “He’s trying to steal a bunch of shipping boxes!”

“No ghost is making off with holiday gifts while the Fentons are on the job!” Jack declared as he and Maddie drew their concealed weapons. They barged out the door past Sam and Tucker and out into the snowy night.

“Nothing stops the holiday argument like their mutual hatred of ghosts,” Tucker said with a knowing smile.

“Well, we better get going,” Danny grumbled as he stood. “So who is it this time? It’s the Box Ghost, isn’t it?”

“It is, but he’s not our problem tonight,” Sam said with a proud smile of her own. “Come on, you really think your parents can’t handle the Box Ghost?”

“Well since my mom’s out there I guess I shouldn’t worry...” Danny admitted with a small smile. He was already starting to feel a little better now that he didn’t have to witness the Santa argument. “We do need to figure out something for dinner now, though,” he added as he shared a glance with Jazz.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re coming over to my house and we’re ordering takeout,” Sam said.

“We call it Operation: Get Danny Away from the Stupid Santa Argument,” Tucker added with a grin. “And Jazz too, if she wants to hang out with us.”

“Well given that I’ll be all alone here after you guys leave...” Jazz began. “You’re sure you’re okay with me joining in? I’m not gonna cramp your style or anything?”

“Any Fenton who isn’t part of the Santa argument is welcome in my book,” Danny replied.

~~~

Sam’s parents were surprisingly pleasant when the four of them arrived; Danny was under the impression that they didn’t care for him or his family, and tonight he had the sneaking suspicion that Mrs. Manson was going to rub being a superior parent in his parents’ faces at some point in the near future because of all this. Jazz lingered to give them a full rundown of her college plans when they asked what she was up to as a matter of courtesy, which gave Sam ample opportunity to get her other guests upstairs and into her room without any further delay.

Her room was dimly-lit by warm red string lights she’d added recently. The effect was almost cozy, despite Sam’s likely intent of using them to boost the goth look to her room. It was certainly more calming than the sea of Christmas lights that decorated most of the city. The curtains were already drawn when they arrived, blocking off any view of the city beyond. Closed, comfortable, and warm.

“So what kind of food are we feeling like tonight?” Sam asked once they were safely in her room.

“Something other than pizza,” Danny replied as he flopped down on a massive black bean bag chair. “I think I’ve finally had enough pizza for a little while.”

“I could go for some Thai food,” Tucker added as he dropped onto the oversized bean bag next to Danny.

“I know a great Thai place.” Sam turned to a nearby bookshelf and took a binder labeled ‘Restaurants’ from it, then leafed through until she found the page she wanted. “Here we go,” she said as she took the menu from a sheet protector within.

“So organized,” Tucker said with a chuckle as Sam passed the menu to them.

“Well when you have dietary restrictions it helps to remember the places that can accommodate,” Sam said.

“Smart,” Danny said. He leaned in, bumping shoulders with Tucker as he read the menu as well. “Think I’ll pick the pad thai with chicken.”

“Red curry with beef for me,” Tucker said.

Danny leaned back against the bean bag and closed his eyes as Sam left to ask Jazz what she wanted. It was quiet in Sam’s room—soundproofed to keep her and her parents’ music tastes completely separate, for everyone’s sake—and no holiday music reached them here. He could almost pretend that this was just any other month and that he didn’t have another miserable holiday season to look forward to once he left. The ball of stress that sat sharp and heavy in his chest slowly began to unwind.

His phone buzzed with a received text. Danny opened his eyes and checked it: Valerie had made it to her grandparents’ house and was asking how he was doing. He smiled and texted back: [Glad ur safe. Sam & Tucker rescued me from Santa argument so doing good]

“Val checking in?” Tucker asked.

“Yep, she’s safe at her grandparents’ house,” Danny replied. Worry over Valerie staying safe on the slippery roads had been sitting at the back of his mind ever since she left the previous day, and it was good to have it resolved for now.

Sam returned with Jazz in tow. “Food’s ordered, now we just have to wait.” She strolled over and dropped down onto the unoccupied side of the bean bag. “Did I miss anything?”

“Valerie made it to her grandparents’ house,” Danny replied.

“That’s good. The roads are pretty treacherous this time of year,” Sam said. She stretched, then fell back against the bean bag, bumping shoulders with Danny. “She’ll be here next time we do this.”

“Next time?” Danny raised his eyebrows with the question as he looked at her.

“Yeah we were thinking once a week,” Tucker added. “Maybe more often. Depends on how stressed out you get.” He gave Danny a playful poke on the forehead.

“We couldn’t just sit back and let you be miserable for the whole season,” Sam said. “Besides, it’s nice to get a break from the holiday rush.”

Danny smiled, and he let out a long slow sigh as he sank into the bean bag a little further. “Thanks, guys.” He pulled the two into a hug. “This really means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it, dude,” Tucker said as he and Sam returned the hug. “So what should we do while we wait for the food to get here?”

“I found this card game called Five Crowns recently,” Sam said. “Let’s try it out.”

~~~

The Jacks were wild by the time the food arrived at the front door. Danny and Tucker were almost tied for last place with scores exceeding one hundred points while Jazz sat squarely in the lead with only thirty-five. With two hands to go there was still a chance that Sam could unseat her as the to-be winner, but only time would tell.

Sam brought the food up and the four of them sorted out their meals from the bag. They dug in, chattering all the while about school, video games, movies, future plans. The cards had been laid aside for the moment, to spare them the possibility of getting messy from the food.

Danny forgot the date after a while. It felt like any other night of the year, which was exactly what he needed. He was finally at ease as they set the remnants of dinner aside and picked up their game again.

~~~

Jazz won the game in the end, despite a valiant effort to defeat her on Sam’s part. Danny ended with a ridiculous sum of four hundred and twenty-six points. He didn’t mind. It was the simple act of playing the game that he’d enjoyed, win or lose.

With the game over they set about finding other ways to occupy the time. Sam brought up a new fantasy RPG she’d bought recently and asked if they wanted to do a joint save so they could enjoy the story together.

The three plopped down on the big bean bag chair again with Danny in the middle and took turns on the controller, laughing and riffing on the game’s sillier story beats and praising it for the things it did well. Meanwhile Jazz sat at Sam’s desk with a book open before her, a small smile on her face as she kept half an ear on their fun, chuckling every so often at one of their jokes.

Hours drifted past, carrying them late into the evening, and at last the three began to nod off. Sam and Tucker each rested on one of Danny’s shoulders, the book Sam had been perusing laying open across her lap while Tucker’s PDA had almost slipped out of his hand as he slept.

Once she was sure they were soundly asleep Jazz took a nearby blanket and draped it over the three, gently tucking the edges around them to trap in the warmth. Danny was truly fortunate to have such good friends. Getting him away from holiday stress was exactly what he needed, and with them whisking him away like this every few days he would be able to weather the season much better than he had in previous years.

Jazz tiptoed back to the desk and sat down again. She would wake them in a little while to take Danny home, but for now all she wanted was to let him sleep peacefully for as long as he could.

#Danny Phantom #phandom truce 2023 #DP Events #Phanfic #Danny Fenton #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Jazz Fenton #Fluff

[diapy-demon2]

Exercise

It had been so long since I had had any… adult attention.

I know we agreed to take our kinks to the next level, but still — I haven’t cum in months. Every time mommy walked by, my swelling member strained against my plastic pink cage. It was starting to become too much

I had tried my best to be the good baby mommy wanted, but I needed to cum! And I have been a good baby! I’ve been using my diapers without complaints, I haven’t said any bad words, and —excruciatingly— I haven’t cum or had an accident once!

Maybe that’s why mommy had so much compassion when I had my little outburst, as she had called it.

“Mommy!” I whined as I eyed her shapely figure, “Please!! I needa cum!!”

“Hmmm,” Mommy contemplated my request, “Well you have been quite a good boy recently…”

I hung on every word, desperation written all over my face.

“And I suppose it would be good for you to get some excercise in…”

“P-pwease Mommy,” I whimpered, trying to secure her decision.

“Tell you what sweetie,” she smiled down at me, “Mommy ordered you a special toy that’ll help. You just gotta wait a couple days for it to come in, and then you’ll feel all better! Can you be patient for Mommy?”

“MmmHmmm,” I moaned.

A few days past, and my sorry state of desperation had only gotten worse. But I knew if I acted out or misbehaved in any way, mommy would take my relief away to punish me for my naughtiness. For better or worse, I was committed to being her obedient baby.

Then, it arrived.

“Sweetheart, your new toy arrived! Why don’t you come out back and take a look!”

I quickly waddled outside to see whatever relief was in store for me. It… wasn’t what I was expecting. My cheeks burned scarlet as I saw my new toy.

Sitting in the backyard was a yoga ball adorned with a sattle that had a dildo, handcuffs, and ankle cuffs attached to it.

“M-mommy?” My voice quivered.

“Doesn’t it look like so much fun, princess! And we were talking about fitting some more excercise into your routine!”

“Uhmm…”

“Oh don’t be shy darling,” Mommy giggled, “How about we strap you in, and you can have fun bouncing around the back yard until you make stickies in your little diaper.”

“S-stickies?” I could barely believe my ears.

“That’s right, princess!”

“D-do I get to take my cage off?”

“Ahwww baby no,” mommy giggled, “you’re gonna cum like a princess or not at all. No matter how long it takes.”

“But—“

“Ah ah,” Mommy silenced me, “the only butt I want to hear about is the one that’s gonna be bouncing up and down on that big dildo, which is yours sweet pea.”

Mommy grabbed me by the wrists, and I knew better than to fuss. Before I knew it, my ankles and my wrists were tightly secured in mommy’s contraption. I immediately felt the pressure of the big pink dildlo through my diaper. This was going to be a long playtime…

“Ok sweet pea. While you play, Mommy’s going to go start on Din-din. I’ll be watching from inside.”

——————————————

Hey everyone, tumblr nuked my account again, so I’m rewriting these captions to reclaim them in the hopes that my followers find me again.

[daz4i]

oh wait i did promise a full dazai and nikolai comparison post didn’t i. time to deliver. no keep reading button, we’re clogging everyone’s dashboards like men. enjoy

clowning

so. i doubt i need to elaborate much on nikolai’s clowning - it’s very plainly put in the text, he along with other characters constantly call him a clown, and he obviously takes on a clown persona.

nikolai’s method of clowning is to take it to the extreme - everything he says sounds like a joke or pure nonsense, making you doubt everything that comes out of his mouth immediately, even when he’s saying the truth.

dazai’s is only slightly more subtle. i’m basing this on no longer human, given that so much of his character is based on yozo. dazai puts on a mask of a carefree, funny, lazy guy, especially to the agency, just like yozo does

his method of clowning is to seem genuine. pepper in just enough truth to make others believe him. seem reliable enough to make others trust him. but never showing his full self, so you should doubt everything he says

ultimately, the same outcome, done with different methods

so, we all agree they both do it. now, let’s analyze why. dazai’s is more obvious imo, so let’s start with him. 

with the agency specifically, it makes sense, gotta appear nonthreatening n all, seem like a normal guy with absolutely no past in the mafia (at least at first). i’d also say it can be used to make his enemies underestimate him - no one expects the goofy silly guy to pull a knife on them, after all, and you definitely don’t expect him to be a mastermind.

on a deeper level, if we go back to the yozo train of thought, it’s also to protect himself. no one can leave you, hurt the deeper parts of your soul, attack you personally if they can’t figure out who you are. no one can get close enough to matter to you then get taken away, the way oda was.

nikolai’s reasoning is less grounded in canon or external works (that i know of), so feel free to disagree with that part (with any part of this post tbh.) but in my interpretation, he does it for multiple reasons:

same as dazai, not letting anyone close enough to get him to care. nikolai sees bonds as something chaining him down - he cares about fyodor and sees him as a friend, and that’s why he wants to kill him. if you see him, he will care about you, and he can’t have that. better to have the self inflicted cage of a mask than have the key in someone else’s hands, if you wanna be poetic about it.

chaos! a lot of what nikolai does is to subvert expectations, be illogical, to prove the existence of his free will. nothing more chaotic than a clown

to contrast dazai, rather than make his enemies underestimate him, nikolai’s intention is to make his teammates underestimate him. he’s trying to throw their suspicions off him - oh, he defied the plan fyodor set up? well, can’t blame him, he always does silly shit like that. look how crazy that guy is, obviously he can’t follow orders - so he can freely do what he wants and only have them catch up way later.

already, we see a lot of similarities, as well as opposites-within-the-same-action. let’s continue

death

tldr: both are supposedly willing to die, yet still avoid death.

dazai sure managed to survive a lot of suicide attempts, huh! weird how all of his on screen attempts - especially since oda’s death - have been using methods that are easily to survive, like drowning. that’s so strange guys i wonder why’s that (psst i wrote a whole post just about that already)

and nikolai sure did give a dramatic speech about how dying will set him free, very convincing! weird that he faked his death, then. hmmm.

granted, nikolai’s speech might’ve been The Page’s work, but tbf it does align with his views on this topic so i’d like to believe there was some truth there, just like there’s some truth in dazai’s suicide attempts - yes, they want to die, but... there’s more to be done first.

both of them seem to hold a high value in the act of dying, and both see it as being set free. both feel trapped in their own life - nikolai outright says so, that he feels caged inside his own head, and if you dig into dazai’s character song you see him describe life as a “never-ending today”. both see death as salvation from their situation, but won’t get down to achieving it.

this is actually a good place to transition to our next topic,

meaning

since i mentioned dazai’s character song, one thing he seems to focus on there is looking for meaning, or rather being frustrated that he hasn’t found one yet (he also brings up this internal conflict in the dark era, but the song solidifies it as relevant even in his current state). dazai tries so hard to find meaning, but can’t.

nikolai’s fixation on free will, i’d argue, is not quite a search for meaning, but rather a struggle to prove there is no greater meaning in life, in order to ease his own guilt. none of his murders matter at the end of the day... right? then why does he still feel this way?

ironically, both can find meaning in their bonds - dazai has many at this point, with oda being the main one he might’ve found meaning in before, and nikolai has fyodor - but this is scary. they’re not used to having meaning, to caring. and so we circle back to the clowning, to pushing people away, to wanting to kill fyodor, to the comfort and familiarity of no meaning. 

guilt

like onions and ogres, clowns have layers. bear with me here.

on the surface, you’d expect them both to feel guilt for their horrendous acts. peel a layer, and it seems neither of them particularly does, otherwise they would stop doing it, you’d assume. peel back another layer, and... honestly, i think they do, but are just repressing it.

this is smth i get less from the text and more from their real life counterparts, tbh. going back to the yozo comparisons, he does outright say “i’ve lived a life filled with guilt” which. is very fair to expect to hear from our dazai. meanwhile the real life gogol straight up died because of his guilt. i don’t think asagiri would overlook stuff like that when turning them into characters.

nikolai also does outright tell atsushi he feels guilty for the atrocities he committed - though, pretends he didn’t mean it immediately after, putting back one of those layers we tried to peel.

going back to dazai’s song, it’s the “the tainted past, too, begone!” line that i feel is nodding to it. dazai obviously knows the things he’s done while in the mafia are wrong, seems like he knew while being in the mafia as well given his conversations with oda during the dark era. but this really does make it seem like he regrets it, imo.

they’re both repressing their guilt for the same reason they won’t die. there’s more important shit going on. dazai outright tells atsushi that wallowing in guilt is pointless, and we see him move forward and execute plans even if he’s still feeling guilty throughout, and even when he needs to do some dirty work to make them happen. nikolai is the same in that regard - he’s just hyperfocused on this goal of proving his free will, and guilt is another thing that’s keeping him caged, so he must break free from it. wallowing in it will simply be counterproductive.

sorry i gotta talk abt fyodor now

but it’s gonna be short i promise

so we’ve got this all knowing, unbeatable, super smart guy, right? anyway what if the only people we see outsmart him were 2 suicidal clowns. wouldn’t that be funny

so, it’s a bit tricky to call it “outsmarting” with dazai considering how their whole Thing is give and take that’s not going to end any time soon, but fyodor obviously views him as someone on his level so i’m counting that. he wouldn’t put this much effort into someone he didn’t think was less smart than him. and, he calls him a worthy chess opponent for a reason

nikolai did outsmart him, though. nikolai was supposed to die. nikolai wasn’t meant to survive the plan, let alone come to meursault and put fyodor in a death game when he could’ve escaped using the vampiric guard he planted in the prison instead. nikolai is throwing an unpredictable wrench in the plan of the guy who knows how everything is gonna turn out because humans are so predictable.

clearly they both affect him a lot, more than we see others have. both of them are the only ones so far we’ve seen get on the same level as fyodor

and, both of them are seen by fyodor. nikolai explicitly says fyodor is the only person who sees him, and dazai is seen because they are the same, on a certain level. fyodor understands them, which is why it’s even more impressive that they can outsmart him, imo

in conclusion

asagiri i am on my knees begging. make them interact properly please please please

fr tho, i’m curious if this means something. because this is a huge amount of similarities, especially when they’re not really related in any way and barely ever talked. does it mean anything?? how about nikolai being able to use his ability on dazai, does that mean anything????? asagiri please give me some answers i am asking so nicely

anyway. thank you for reading! lmk if i missed anything, or reblog with your own additions and analysis. if you disagree with anything i said, feel free to express that as well, just be respectful. hope i managed to infect you with my brainrot as well. have a great day :3!

#bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd osamu dazai #bsd nikolai gogol #nikozai #<- man idk. is this even a ship? #long post #dan rambles #please reblog this i worked hard . #this is probably the most organized post i made abt bsd so far #or in general lol 😭 better appreciate it

[c-rose2081]

The Mal and Audrey swap AU is so interesting, I have so, SO many questions about it. Does Mal know she's actually Maleficent's daughter? If not, how does she handle the revelation? How will everyone else handle it? Will she actually go along with her bio-mom's evil plan? How does Mal and everyone else, including the VKs, feel about and treat Audrey? Do they think Audrey is Maleficent's daughter? If so, does Audrey correct them? Even though Audrey knows she's not Maleficent's daughter, does she know she's Aurora's daughter? If not, how will she find out the truth? How is everyone going to react when they find our Audrey is Aurora's daughter? Will finding her real mom be what pushes Audrey to stop Maleficent's evil plan, or will it be something else? Is Mal gonna change her awful ways? If so, will she have a similar arc to canon Audrey (losing her social status to Audrey, becoming a villain, getting defeated and repenting) or will it be different? Sorry, I know that's a ton of questions, I just gotta know how all this plays out, especially how both Mal and Audrey will develop as characters and how the events of D2 and D3 will be affected, since Ben will still wind up with Mal despite the role swap

Woof, that is a lot of questions XD, but I don’t mind. I’ll go over some of the basics for you:

1.) Audrey knows she’s not Maleficent’s daughter because Maleficent told her so (she has more dignity than raising the child of her greatest enemies as her own). Audrey doesn’t know where she comes from, as far as she knows her birth parents are long gone and Maleficent ‘saved’ her from dying as a baby. She has no clue she’s actually Aurora and Phillip’s daughter. She doesn’t even know her full name, which is why she goes by Auds or A. However, she is very aware that Maleficent’s actual daughter is in Auradon somewhere, just not exactly where she is/who she was raised by.

2.) Mallory doesn’t know either. This is due to a very strong glamor spell Maleficent cast when the swap was made. It’s so strong that no one questions why Mal doesn’t look anything like her parents, and keeps her from wondering about it too much. She’s happy with her life and has no reason to question it. Her magic was explained away as a weird side-effect of Aurora’s time in the enchanted sleep.

3.) Audrey is basically an observer in D1’s main plot, a bit like a background character. On the Isle of the Lost she is a nobody and is treated as such. She’s a servant to Maleficent and bullied by the other VK’s. She takes orders without question, stays out of other people’s way, has no allies or friends of her own, and doesn’t interfere with Maleficent’s plans unless specifically told to do so.

When she gets sent to Auradon, for all intents and purposes she is Maleficent’s daughter (she would never say otherwise). She’s there to deliver Maleficent’s spellbook to Mallory, her one order, while the other VK’s are tasked with turning her evil. The story progresses similarly to canon, VK’s trying to get to the wand, spelling Ben with a cookie to try and fix his and Mal’s relationship, ect. ect. but Audrey is a passive observer to the entire thing, with her own little story on the side where she starts to make some friends (or rather, Jane and Lonnie start trying to be friends with her) and even has a romance with Mr. Chad Charming (I’m a Chaudrey shipper, sue me!)

4.) The glamor begins to wear off once Auds and Mal are in the same place for long enough, which is when people start to figure out something’s up. Queen Leah at Family Day really breaks things open, as her lack of time in the glamor made seeing Mal as an untrue heir easier to accept (she and Mal still don’t get along). Leah recognizes Audrey at family day, which spooks literally everyone and sends everything into confusion.

5.) I’m not spoiling endings or full realizations yet (mostly cause I haven’t decided what I want yet)

🥲 I hope this helps with some of your questions!

#disney descendants #audrey descendants #mal descendants #swapped au #answered asks

[better-call-mau1]

Congratulations! You’re being smothered with a completely random headcanon about Mandalorian marriage customs rescued! Please do not resist.

The Rite of Riduurok Akaanir, aka “Lover’s Quarrel”

Alright…so I gotta be honest and say that even though I can’t remember how exactly this headcanon came to me, I’ve been carrying it around for years, ever since first watching Rebels and shipping Sabezra 😅 …and at this point, I feel like it’s burning a hole in my head, trying desperately to get out, so I’m gonna save myself the expense of reconstructive cranial surgery and just share it:

Mandalorians like to fight. Actually, they don’t just like to fight, “weapons are a part of [their] religion,” or at least their culture—and for many, their entire lives are built around that. In the case of the Children of the Watch, strict adherence to a No-Living-Being-Can-See-You-With-Your-Helmet-Off orthodoxy even gets in the way of basic interpersonal behavior, like eating a meal together. The implications of that are…interesting…and not in a “wow that’s cool!” way…more like a “kark, that’s depressing” way.

Basically, I started to wonder how the “BAM! BOOM! BAM! BOOM! BLOW STUFF UP AND KILL THOSE FORCE-WIELDING MANIACS!” portion of Mandalorian culture (so…most of it?) intersects with intrinsic parts of human…wait, nope, sorry Grogu sentient life—namely romantic intimacy. (Paz Vizsla has, presumably, not taken his helmet off in decades…and he has a son who’s probably 12ish years old, tops…so do you think he ever stares at his kid and tries parsing out his own features to get an idea of what his wife looks like?) It’s an extreme example from an extreme sect, but there’s application to Mandalorian society as a whole. Where does love fit into a worldview or galaxy-view, I guess where conflict is a core tenet? When do individuals stop existing as warriors and start existing as people? Do they ever?

Anyway, the point is that on its face, the cultural dogma doesn’t seem to leave much room for authentic social and romantic intimacy, especially the latter since, ya know, the beskar has to come off both literally and figuratively in order to procreate. It’s difficult for me to see how the necessity of physical and emotional vulnerability can coexist with the rest of Mando culture—so let’s just leave it at that.

But for a civilization to survive as long as Mandalore has without totally disintegrating, those intimate relationships have to exist, and there’s plain evidence that they do. For all their problems, the Wren family clearly loves each other, and we even get a glimpse of some soft Alrich/Ursa PDA in “Heroes of Mandalore.” Then there’s Bo-Katan, who still cares deeply for her sister despite…well…joining a terrorist faction to help overthrow her. That says something, right?

Wrapping my mind around how authentic love can exist in a fictional warrior society really got me thinking—so much so that I headcanoned a ritual (Riduurok Akaanir, “Lover’s Quarrel”) to help myself work it all out.

The general idea? On Mandalorian wedding nights, the bride and groom have a private duel. A duel to the death? Maybe if it’s an arranged marriage and one party really wants out and I’m gonna speculate that Bo-Katan widowed herself at least four times before running off to join Death Watch.

More commonly, though, it’s just a playful act to embody love transcending conflict. Alrich Wren, for example, isn’t a traditional warrior, but Ursa didn’t assert her superior combat prowess on their wedding night by firing a wrist rocket at his face something Bo-Katan probably did to a few of the short-lived husbands Satine picked out for her. (“Parry this, you kriffing casual.”) Instead, I’d like to think Alrich and Ursa went through the basic motions of a hand-to-hand duel, not necessarily to prove who’s the better warrior, but as an intimate prelude to the actual consummation of their marriage—almost like a mutually disarming dance. (Could it be light-heartedly competitive? Sure! As the first Mando to perform the Riduurok Akaanir with a Jedi, Sabine would go all-out to make sure she doesn’t lose to Ezra! 😆) When the dance-duel ends, they set aside their warrior identities to become something more: husband and wife. It’s like a way of saying, “As Mandalorians, what we do is fight, but we’re more than mere weapons. We fight so we can love. We wear armor to protect ourselves, our homes, and our families. It’s an important part of who we are, but we’re ultimately made of flesh and blood, not cold beskar.”

So that’s the point of Riduurok Akaanir, a term I came up with using this nifty English to Mando’a online translator (before I just called it “Wedding Night Fight” in my head). It’s not supposed to be a blanket explanation—but intimacy and vulnerability don’t have clear utility in a warrior culture, and this is my best attempt at bridging that perceived gap.

If you made it down this far without dozing off, enjoy this Sabezra incorrect quote! 😁

Fenn Rau: I trust that Sabine briefed you on Mandalorian wedding customs?

Ezra: Yep! I know exactly how not to get myself killed before officially becoming a married man.

Rau: The trick is not getting yourself killed *after* becoming a married man. Did she explain what happens on the wedding night?

Ezra: Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Rau:

Ezra:...yeahthatsnotreallysomethingIneedorwantSabinetoexplaintomeandKanankindofgavemethelowdownbackduringmyJeditrainingdayssoIthinkIknowwhattodobutthanksanyway.

Rau: Kanan taught you about the Mandalorian ‘lover’s quarrel,’ then? His instruction was even more thorough that I imagined. Or maybe he always knew you and Sabine would end up together.

Ezra: Sorry, did you say...?

Rau: The Rite of Riduurok Akaanir is usually non-fatal. Sabine seems to be genuinely fond of you, so I’m sure you’ll survive to see the sunrise.

Ezra:

Ezra:

Ezra: Oh kriff.

#the mandalorian #bo katan kryze #sabine wren #ezra bridger #sabezra #ursa wren #alrich wren #ursa x alrich #fenn rau #star wars rebels #mandalorian culture #Attorney Maul’s Headcanons #Lover’s Quarrel Rite

[fastandtheformula1]

GIRLLL we need the part 2 of choises where ollie continues his life without y/n by his side but he still keeps in touch with her like after every race he sends a voice mail and also still sends messages even though he knows that y/n won't reply. It was hard for both of them, when you know how desperately you need each other and there's nothing you can do about it. Y/n always listened and replayed the voicemails that Ollie sent, at least it cured her longing. She still watched ollie's races, he was progressing well from race to race and felt a little relieved that her decision to break up with ollie could make him focus more on his racing, seeing him on the podium and smiling, it was the thing she wanted most in her life. But y/n was unaware of the fact that all of his smile was fake. Yeah, he was happy that his performance had improved but it was all nothing without y/n. He became quieter than usual, not more cheerful and even more moody, blue vibe, and once arthur caught him crying alone. Maybe during y/n's graduation, he came and brought a bouquet of her favourite chocolates and asked her to come back to his side? Idk brooo just get them a happy ending istg😔👊🏻❤

Ollie Bearman- Ultimatum

a/n: here is the long awaited part 2 of choices. the end is kinda sucky but we all know i can't end fics like this lol. enjoy!

summary: part 2 to this post.

pairing: ollie bearman x childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, sad ollie

word count: 1503

not my gif!

~

Hey. It’s me. Uh, I hope this is still your number. I’m about to get ready for quali in Barcelona. Wish you were here to see it. Know you’ve always wanted to come here. Anyway. Bye. 

Hi. Sorry if these are getting redundant but I’m about to qualify in Vegas. I know you’re only four hours away. Ollie takes on America, I guess…  Miss you, Y/N. 

Hi. Abu Dhabi race! Last one of the season! ‘Bout to qualify. Look, I know it’s been almost a year and I’m not trying to convince you to get back together with me but I want to see if we can- What? But I- ugh. Shit, sorry, I gotta go, but… Come back to the paddock, love. 

That one caught your attention. 

Come back to the paddock, 

Love. 

It had been almost a year since you left Ollie. Though you mostly felt bad about how you left things, there was a part of you that had made peace with it. You both had your own lives to live and your goals that weren’t lining up with each other’s. So why try at something that’s wasting your time?

You missed him though. You missed the pre-race rituals where Ollie held you tight in his arms hearing the joyful shouts and clamor of the outside world, thinking of nothing but each other until Arthur practically ripped down Ollie’s door to get him into his car. When he raced, you knew he thought of you. He made it very clear that you were a priority to him all the time. Although radio chats clearly proved otherwise, you knew in the back of your mind that he was thinking of you. 

~

“Ollie, you need to box mate. Box.”

“But she said to not because-”

“What? Box, Ollie, box.”

“No! Please, I can’t-”

“Sorry Ollie, team orders. Box. Box.”

~

You checked in on him every once in a while, of course wishing him all the best in his career. You watched some of his interviews and still followed Ferrari. You were never going to completely abandon him; you still considered him a good friend. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you never thought about him a lot. He looked and seemed happy through the screen that you viewed him through, his bubbly personality shining through his dazzling smile that you missed oh-so-much. Sometimes your mind had wondered what happened if you came back that night. Would you have figured it out? Would the outcome be the same? Was Ollie really going to desert F2 and possibly F1 just for you? 

You always forced those thoughts out of your head; they weren’t something that was a part of your life anymore. 

Similarly, Ollie felt the same. He could and would never cease thinking about you, even in the most serious of situations. He’d notice small mannerisms in other people that you had, like scratching your nose when you were anxious, and would be reminded of you through certain inflictions in peoples’ words. His pre-race ritual was never the same, knowing that the cuddles and silent comfortable moments you once had would never return. Arthur, being the good friend that he is, even offered Ollie cuddles and extra support when you’d left, but it never was the same for him. 

Now though, you were currently about to attend your graduation party for university. After you and Ollie’s incident, you moved as far as you could from him to focus on yourself and your career. You moved to the States after a month-long debate with yourself as well as your parents. You worked so hard to get yourself into and through school, buying yourself an apartment, and spent many of your days in your new environment with strangers who eventually turned into friends. You had turned over a new leaf, and you felt like a new person.

You could almost say that you had forgotten about Ollie. 

Almost. 

Your parents had thrown you a huge party to celebrate your accomplishments throughout the past few years. They had invited extended family as well as your old friends from elementary school. You flew in a couple of days before your party, getting used to the time difference, reverting back to your old ways of life before you left. 

It was nice to be home, the comfort of your childhood house and environment made you at ease, along with your family and friends you hadn’t seen in a while. Your parents did a good job of decorating the house, placing framed pictures of you in the front room, balloons covering every normally empty corner. You saw family members who you hadn’t seen in years, chatting with them until somebody else stole you away. A couple of hours went by, and a few speeches were made courtesy of your parents and a few close relatives. You felt normal for the first time in a while. 

That’s when you turned and made eye contact with him. Ollie. 

You felt your stomach drop. Why was he here? How could your parents invite him? How do you address what happened? Of course you knew the answers, you were smart enough to figure out your next move, but your mind spiraled as soon as you saw his warm, brown eyes. You excused yourself from the conversation you were having, speed walking to the bathroom. You locked the door and took a moment for yourself.

Okay, you thought. Just act normal and pretend like you didn’t walk out on him. Easy. 

You fixed yourself up and walked back out into the organized chaos. 

About an hour later people started to leave, wishing you luck in the next stage of your life, telling you how proud they are and all that. But all you could think about was him. 

After everyone cleared out, you walked back to your kitchen seeing Ollie having a conversation with your dad.

His eyes flicked over to yours, hesitantly looking back to your dad’s. “Oh, um. Sorry sir, do you mind if I…”

“Go ahead.” Your dad smiled and walked out of the kitchen as Ollie headed towards you. 

He anxiously took in a breath in as you studied his figure. He was standing slightly hunched over, wearing a white button down shirt with navy blue pants. You’d always told him that the blue pants looked better on him, a nice contrast to the black and red he wears. 

His voice was low. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?” You slightly smiled. When Ollie would come to your house unannounced when you were little, it would bring you so much joy. 

“Dunno,” He said, sighing. “Was your big day, and I had to be all dramatic and show up I guess.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest; a sound you haven’t heard in a long time. 

“Oh, um, those are for you,” He said, gesturing towards a box of candy surrounded by envelopes and stuffed animals on a table. “I know you probably haven’t had those in a while. You know, moving to the States and all.” 

It shocked you that he still remembered the smallest things, showing that he still really cared about you. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you, you were surprised it wasn’t an awkward one. 

“I just want us to be normal again. I can’t stand not having you in my life, Y/N. There’s this hole that you left and I’ve been trying to fix it with racing, my family. Fuck, I’ve even starting up knitting. And I get that you’ve moved on and have healed and everything, so I get it if you don’t want to do this, but I need you back in my life. This time it’ll be different, Y/N. I promise.”

You gauged the situation. Did you really believe that things could be the same after what happened? He was the sweetest most genuine person you’ve ever encountered, but would he still want more after you established you were just friends? You fought yourself back and forth,  surprising yourself of what came out of your mouth:

“Okay.” 

“I promise I won’t- wait what?” He expression changed, 

“Okay. We can try to be friends again. That’s it though. No reminiscing of our romantic relationship, no calling me late at night because you can’t sleep. None of that. I can’t do that again, Ol.”

“Okay. Deal.” 

All of what you felt that night started coming back, the guilt returning to your chest. This boy was  utterly in love with you, and you completely fucked him over. 

“Ollie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just up and left. You deserved better than that.” You looked down at the floor, internally cringing at your past mistake. You were embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. I forgive you, Y/N.”

“Thanks.”

“So, friends again?”

“Yeah.”

It made your heart happy knowing that you and Ollie were okay, but something inside you knew that it would never be the same.

#ollie bearman #oliverbearman #ferarri #ferrari academy #arthurleclerc #f2 #f1 imagine #f1 x you #formula 2

[rhondafromhr]

Nerds corruption au chapter 5!!

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been reading so far! This is the first thing I’ve written in literal years and all the likes/reblogs/comments have been super encouraging :) Also, quick update: I have an ao3 account now (same username - rhondafromhr), where I’ll be uploading what I’ve written so far. I’m going to adjust the formatting and fix any mistakes I happen to catch but other than that it’ll be identical. After this, I’ll probably just update there and post the link on here whenever there’s a new chapter. Unless anyone strongly prefers to read it in tumblr post format (I can always do both). Hope y’all enjoy!

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“We’re Gonna Become The Bullies” - Chapter 5: No Matter The Cost, Idle The Threat

Hey gang, I have another plan <3 Let’s all meet at Beanies when Max is done with football practice and I’ll give you the rundown

Suddenly, Stephanie’s a lot less excited to have her phone back. How did Grace even get her number? More importantly, why is somebody whose last plan almost ended in manslaughter out here cooking up more plans? Stephanie knows she probably shouldn’t encourage this, but her morbid curiosity is just strong enough that she’s compelled to reply: cool, see you guys there. This better not be about Grace’s campaign to cancel the dance. Stephanie may or may not have an itemized list of cute homecoming proposal ideas for Pete and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to use at least one of them. If only Grace could see that she’s totally wrong about co-ed dances. They’re not just an excuse to dry hump in the gym. It’s heavily in the mix, sure, but it’s not the only thing. There’s also underage drinking and dancing awkwardly. It’s an essential high school experience. Now that she thinks about it, Grace has probably missed out on a lot of dumb teenage shenanigans thanks to her sheltered upbringing. Huh, that’s actually kind of sad. Maybe if Grace is open to it, they can help her catch up.

Before she can ponder that too much, she notices Brad Callahan passing by in the hallway, which obviously means she has to stop what she’s doing to raise her fist at him threateningly and call him a weak ass bitch. He flinches and hurries along. God, she’s been doing that every single time she encounters him and it still hasn’t gotten old. She might feel bad if it was anyone else, but Brad sucks. The best part is knowing he can’t do anything about it. She’s beginning to understand why Max does this sort of thing.

She has a couple of hours to kill before they’re meeting up, so she opts to spend them in the library at least trying to get some homework done. Not her idea of a good time, but she figures she should keep her grades high enough that her dad doesn’t get on her case again. Between the better grasp of the material that she now has courtesy of Peter’s tutoring and once again having access to her favorite chill lo-fi study beats playlist on Spotify, it’s not as painful as usual and she manages to finish most of her math worksheet before heading out.

True to form, Grace is already there waiting for everybody when Stephanie arrives. She has two disposable coffee cups in front of her, at least one of which Stephanie assumes contains hot water (seriously, what is her fixation with drinking plain hot water? Even if she’s anti-caffeine, why not just drink herbal tea or something?). Stephanie orders a hot chocolate for Pete along with an iced americano for herself, then joins Grace at the cozy table in the corner. The dainty little bell attached to the door dings to indicate Ruth’s arrival.

“Hi, Ruth,” Grace greets her, sliding Ruth one of the drinks as she sits down “This is for you. It’s tea with honey, the barista said it would be good for your voice. Gotta make sure it’s rested up for the show!”

“Since when are you in the show?” Stephanie asks Ruth “I thought you were doing the lighting board.”

“As of right now, yes,” Grace answers for her “but if you saw her perform, you’d agree she should be the one up on stage, not Trevor.” She says his name with absolute contempt.

“I still don’t know about this,” says Ruth “What if we get in trouble? I don’t want this to affect my chances of getting into college. Everyone knows that’s where all the really spicy sexual experimentation happens, watch some porn!”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue. Haven’t you heard? I’m the hall monitor,” Grace replies.

“Wow, Chasity, no comment on the porn thing? You must be laser focused on whatever this plan is.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for Ruth to reconsider that vow of chastity later,” Grace says as Ruth emphatically shakes her head no “but right now the most important thing is to make sure that lead role goes to the person who actually deserves it.”

Max and Richie arrive next, barely taking notice of the rest of the group as they sit down. Max’s anxious energy is palpable (even if he’s no longer taking his bad moods out on them, he sure can drag down the energy in a room). Richie seems to be trying to talk him down.

“Max, there’s nothing to be worried about! You guys looked great at practice today. There’s no way we’re losing to Clivesdale tomorrow. This is what you’ve been training for,” Richie says.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, but that’s what I thought before the last game and we got destroyed. I don’t want to sleep outside again, it’s been getting really cold out! I could die from hypothermia and become a ghost. You know how I feel about ghosts, Richie!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asks, racking his brain to try and figure out the connection between losing the big game and becoming a hypothermic ghost.

“When we lost to Sycamore, my dad locked me out of the house and made me sleep outside that night,” Max explains “but this is fuckin’ Clivesdale we’re talking about. If we lose to them, it’ll probably be for a week straight.” Richie, Ruth and Grace stare at him in stunned silence. Stephanie just gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm.

“Max,” Richie says, gentle and reassuring “we’re your sworn friends now, which means we’re not letting you sleep outside even if you single-handedly make us lose to Clivesdale. Just stay over at my place.”

“But doesn’t Paul, like, hate me?”

“Oh, he does not hate you. He’s just a little weary of you on account of the years of relentlessly bullying me. He’s going to be out of town, anyway.”

“Ooh, we should all have a sleepover, then!” Ruth says excitedly “That’s where sexy pillow fights happen!”

Stephanie shrugs. “Sure. Beats going home.”

“Oh, that actually does sound fun! My parents would never let me go to a co-ed sleepover, though,” Grace says wistfully.

“Just tell them it’s an overnight bible study and maybe conveniently forget to mention that the boys’ll be there,” Stephanie suggests “if it makes you feel better, I’ll even let you read, like, one passage to me so you’re not technically lying.” This elicits the brightest, most genuine smile she’s ever seen from Grace. Stephanie hopes the passage is at least one of the cool, violent ones and not something basic like “Love is patient, love is kind.” With Grace, it could go either way.

Richie doesn’t comment on everyone essentially inviting themselves over to his house. He simply leaves the table and returns with two mint teas, one of which he hands to Max.

“Here. This always makes me feel a little better when I’m anxious.”

“What? Thanks, bro. That’s so sweet.” Max can’t remember the last time he felt so loved. He never thought he’d have friends who care enough about him to bring him tea when he’s stressed and not let him freeze in the Michigan winter all night just because he loses a game.

All this talk about freezing to death reminds Stephanie that Pete’s hot chocolate is getting cold. Beverages at Beanie’s are best consumed piping hot - the spit is less noticeable that way. Hatchetfield has its fair share of strange, unexplainable phenomena, but why the health department has yet to crack down on this place might be the biggest mystery of all. Why people still come here fully knowing about the spit thing is a close second. Peter finally arrives and gratefully accepts what is now essentially gross, lukewarm chocolate milk.

“Alright, now that everybody’s here we can get started,” Grace begins “As you all know, the theater department cast Trevor in the lead for The Barbecue Monologues. Trevor!” Once again, she utters his name with vitriolic hatred. “Obviously, this is an absolute travesty and it’s our responsibility to fix it. I watched the rest of that rehearsal and he completely phoned in ‘Just For Once’. He can’t even get his lines right, let alone understand the emotional gravity of that song like Ruth does. You can’t tell me it’s God’s will to have Trevor up on that stage instead of her!”

“So, how are we getting Trevor off the stage, then? I need to know how deeply I should regret getting involved in this,” Peter quips. To his surprise, he doesn’t actually feel all that apprehensive. If anything, he’s kind of intrigued, wondering how they’re going to pull this off.

“Well, tomorrow morning I’m going to arrive at school for my usual morning duties and discover a heinous act of vandalism. I guess Trevor and his understudy decided to pull a little senior prank.”

“Wait, we’re framing Rudolph, too? Isn’t it way too convenient that the lead and his understudy both get in trouble this close to opening night? It’s going to look suspicious,” Richie replies.

“Well, those two do everything together! It’d be weirder if they weren’t both in on it. In fact, they’re so close they have these adorable matching friendship bracelets that they never take off. Except during dress rehearsals, that is. You got them, right, Ruth?” Ruth produces two thin, handmade woven bracelets from her backpack. “And at the scene of the crime, apparently, because that’s where they’re going to be found.”

“The scene of the crime?” Peter echoes back.

“The gym. They had the audacity to spray paint…” Grace lowers her voice to a whisper so the rest of the café patrons don’t hear the absolutely vile phrase leave her mouth “…‘Go Clivesdale’ on the wall right before the big game!” The rest of the group audibly gasps. Richie chokes on his tea.

“Go Clivesdale?” he sputters, “isn’t that taking it a little far? Maybe we should just write some swears or something.”

“Or anatomically correct nude drawings!” Ruth chimes in “I have a ton of pictures on my phone we can use for references.”

“Ruth, no. And Richie, the whole point is that it’s too far! We need to do something severe enough for them to actually get in serious trouble. Do you want Ruth to get her moment in the spotlight or not?”

Of course he does. Ruth has been by his side for years and helped him through some of the worst times of his life. He knows how much performing means to her. How she’s been missing out on it for years not for lack of talent or passion, but simply because her anxiety holds her back. If she finally feels confident enough to get up on stage, he decides, he’ll do anything to make that happen. Besides, Grace’s last plan worked out pretty well in the end.

“Okay, I’m in,” Richie says.

“For Ruth,” Pete agrees.

“I still don’t know her super well, but sure, for Ruth,” says Stephanie.

“See, this is why I love you guys! This plan is so smart and sneaky. I’d usually just beat him up and scare him into quitting, but this is way more fun!” Max adds.

“There’s a thought. That might actually be less effort than breaking and entering,” Stephanie muses. She is, of course, purely concerned with efficiency and is not at all thinking about the adrenaline rush she got from beating up Brad and itching to feel it again.

“We’re not breaking and entering. I’ve been a little preoccupied lately and I just might have forgotten to lock the side door to the gym this morning. We’ll just walk right in,” Grace responds with a wicked smile “speaking of which, we should head over. All the staff should be gone for the day. Steph, you’re our getaway driver!” They all follow Grace out of the café, blissfully unaware that they lingered for twenty minutes past closing time.

While her coworkers grumble about entitled customers ignoring their posted hours of operation, Zoe smiles to herself. She caught most of that conversation and can’t help but root for those kids. Committing sabotage to steal the lead role like that? Iconic. They’ve also stolen her heart. She wishes she was half as bold at their age. Their drinks will be on the house next time they come in. Maybe she won’t even spit in them.

The next morning, principal Blim arrives at work feeling less than his best, to say the least. He kicks himself for agreeing to attend “Thirsty Thursday” on a work night - he’s in his forties, who is he kidding? He really needs to stop hanging out with his cousin Barry. That guy was sure “in a hurry” to slam as many consecutive tequila shots as possible last night. He really didn’t care for Barry’s sketchy friend that joined them, either. He got way too drunk and made some comment about locking his kid out of the house whenever his football team loses. The dirtbag seemed completely serious about it, too. He knows Barry’s been going through it with the divorce, but he’s going to have a serious talk with him about how he’s been coping and the company he keeps. He drags himself to the teacher’s lounge for the coffee he desperately needs, trying to ignore the obnoxious fluorescent lights boring into his eyes and making the pounding in his head exponentially worse. As he makes his way to his office, he begs whatever higher power might be listening for a calm, uneventful day. Said higher power must be feeling vindictive, because he’s immediately greeted by a crying, frantic Grace Chasity.

“Principal Blim, thank goodness you’re here! I was doing my morning rounds a-and I stopped in the gym and somebody wrote-“ she sobs “it’s so awful, I can’t even say it!”

“It’ll be okay, Grace. Let’s head over there together and you can show me.”

There’s no need to panic yet. Knowing Grace, this could easily be her reaction to something that’s mildly crude at worst. At least that’s what he thinks until they enter the gymnasium and he realizes she’s absolutely right to be so worked up. See, there’s a beautiful, haunting, hyper-realistic mural of a nighthawk flying over the Hatchetfield Witchwood on the wall opposite the bleachers. It’s been there for about fifteen years now, painted by a former student who was slated to go to a prestigious art school, but sadly went out into that very Witchwood one day and did not make it to the end of her senior year. Now that mural has been desecrated in a manner absolutely unforgivable. As he gazes upon with horror, he drops his mug and the sound of glass shattering on the linoleum floor echoes through the empty gymnasium. This is the foulest, most offensive thing he’s ever seen in his life. He can’t even begin to imagine what type of disgusting human being would do something like this. “Go Clivesdale!” Somebody had the nerve to write “Go Clivesdale!” over the Nighthawk mural! Right before the big game, no less! He’ll catch the perpetrator and make them pay if it’s the last thing he does.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd corruption au #max jagerman #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #hatchetfield #richie lipschitz #barry swift #man in a hurry #cw child abuse mention #max jagermans shitty dad #lautski #cw alcohol #corruption arc

[yrluvjane]

Sometimes things get Sirius

Sirius Black x fem!reader

(There is some slightly mature language to this.)

You grimaced as the pink and purple goo fell all over you and began spilling to the ground. You knew the glittery substance would take hours if not days to get out of your hair and uniform.

As the crowd around you began laughing loudly, you wiped some of the goo off your eyes and swiveled towards the four infamous boys, who have made the past four years hell for you.

You had believed that they would stop since it is your sixth year and they would be busy studying just like you and everyone else in their grade. However, it seems as though no amount of work and punishment could stop the mischievous boys from pranking others- and by others you mean you.

The four leaned back on the stone walls of the castle, falling over each other as they fell into hysterical laughter. “Oh merlin! I-I can't breathe.” James huffed out as he clutched his stomach.

“Oh I’ll make sure you lose the ability to breathe at all!” You snapped tripping once or twice while making your way to them, which only fueled your anger more. “You gotta admit, Y/n....That was fucking hilarious.” Sirius says and he high-fives the rest of his stupid group.

“Well I hope you'll find it hilarious when I choke the life out of you!” Shouting you lunged at Sirius, but before you could even touch him, light blue ropes held you back, and stuck you to the ground.

“What is going on?!” McGonagall's voice rings out the corridor, silencing all the students. Her eyes find your sparkling figure (as if it was hard to miss, you looked like a bloody pink disco ball) and then found the four troublesome boys.

“Run!” James shouts. He breaks into sprint, following by the three as McGonagall shouts out them. You knew even if McGonagall didn't let them off and decided to scold them and give them detention; all her words would go into one ear and out the other barely passing their brains (If they even have those).

“EVERYONE BACK TO CLASS!” McGonagall shouts as the crowd disperses leaving only you and her in the hallway. With a wave of her wand the blue roped disappear allowing you to freely move. You try to wipe some of the goo off but it doesn't work. You sigh tiredly, and somehow you feel helpless and small.

“Oh I'm sorry, dear.” The transfiguration Professor says. She tries to cast a cleaning spell on you but it doesn't work. As if The Marauders would let you off easily.

“Don't bother; I have been trying that for the past four years. I think I've memorized every cleaning spell there ever was.”

“I truly do apologi-”

“Its fine, Professor. Can I can take the rest of the day off, please?” You asked and were slightly happy when she agrees. The moment she leaves you begin making your way to the second floor bathroom, where you know no one is going to be there, considering the fact it was out of order, and was haunted by Moaning Myrtle.

Who better than a ghost to join your pity party? You thought sarcastically.

So for next two hours, you tried to get most of the thick and sticky slime of you as you ranted and rambled to Myrtle, who you found out, was a very good listener. “Why?! Why is it always me?! I have never not been nice to any of them!” You complained as tried peel some out of your skirt but only kept stretching the more you pulled.

“God…” You sighed as you gave up and looked at yourself in the mirror; even after hours of work you were still 80%  slime. Most of the slime was on your head, which meant you currently had pink hair that sparkled in the sunlight. You silently hoped that if the marauders saw you later your hair would blind them.

“Boys, I never liked them anyway. I always found them so mean and judging, they too liked to pick on me, the girls too. Although I can’t say my bullies were as…creative as yours.” Myrtle said in her hollow and eerie voice, floating behind you, looking you up and down.

“Oh I’m sorry Myrtle; I didn’t mean to bring up unhappy memories.”

“No it’s fine. It’s actually nice to have someone to talk too. Almost no one comes here, and when they do they never come back.” The dead girl said, she sighed and floated to her little window then look down at you from up there. “Will you come back?”

“I’ll try too, I’m usually quite busy with my N.E.W.T’s and all but if I’m free and have no studies to finish, I’ll come.” You said with a small smile that was met with big and happy one. “Oh how lovely, you should hurry up and finish, there isn’t long to lunch.”

“Thanks, Myrtle. Have fun alright, try talking to other ghosts. Maybe you’ll make friends.”

“Maybe…Have a good day or the rest of it anyway.”

You slumped you way back to the Gryffindor common, which made you: became the gossip to all of the portraits, Peeves new favorite victim, Filch’s latest catch and last but not least the laughing stock of any passing Ghosts and students.

Thank you, Marauders.

Apparently you looked so horrifying that Isabelle, the fat lady, let out a gasp so loud and sharp it woke any and every portrait that were hung on the large four tower walls that surrounded the staircases.

And as if your day got any worse, you were personally welcomed by The Marauders themselves.

“Wow, Y/n you look great! Do something to your hair?” Sirius says with a smirk as those scattered around the common room laughed.

“Thanks, Sirius…I’ll just go.” You replied, too tired to deal with any of them anymore.

“Oh but the fun hasn’t even started yet!” Remus shouts as you walk up the stairs gaining more attention than you hoped for.

“Oh God, I heard about what happened I just didn’t think it was this bad.” You turned around and faced your best friend and roommate, Dorcus, with a sad smile.

“Hey, how was Charms?”

“Tiring, I took notes for you.”

“Thanks, Dor… Wait, what are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you have Divination right now?”

“Not yet, Trelawney said some of us could ‘suffer great danger’ if we went now, the class was postponed an hour or so. Come; let’s get this stuff of you.”

So you had spent the rest of the day, running around the castle trying to find Professor Slughorn and Madam Promfrey.

To say you were exhausted the next day was an understatement.

Not only did you feel like shit, because of all the potions you ingested; but Professor Sinstra, the Astrology teacher, decided to have a pop quiz and then decided to pair you up with non-other Sirius Fucktard Black.

"I really have to, love. You look Gorgeous, stunning even. Done something new? Blush? Lipstick?... Hair?" He tried to hide a snort as he suggested the last word.

You silently glared at him with the heat of a thousand suns. "I know I'm breathtaking but it's still rude to stare." He said, with his smug face, which looked quite punchable at the moment.

You huffed and turned facing the other side. You angrily stared at the map under you. While astronomers saw rabbits, cats and lions, you saw a pan, an upside-down spoon and a triangle with hair.

You sighed running your hands down your face. Next thing you know the whole class was laughing. You looked up trying to figure out what they were laughing at only to realize it was you.

They were laughing at you.

Because someone had changed the natural color of your hair to the most vibrant shade of red.

You clutched the strands of your hair and looked up seeing Sirius's wand in your direction.

You slammed your head against the table and groaned as Professor Sinstra start to scold Sirius, who didn't even bother to pretend to pay attention.

"Y/n, darling, I have to say-" He began but stopped short once he saw you.

You had pulled out a hair claw, twisted you hair and clasped it.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at you with a suspicious look. You met his eyes and shook your head. "What?" You asked as Professor Sinstra finally managed to silence the class.

"What are you doing?" Sirius replied furrowing his brows at you.

"Nothing. Let's finish this; I've got a thing later."

"What type of 'thing'?"

"The 'None of your business' type of thing."

Even though you got back to your work, you felt Sirius's eyes burn a hole through your head the entire day.

The next day you had a bucket of ice water drench you just as you were leaving for breakfast.

The day after, someone had swapped all your writing ink with squid ink.

Then someone charmed all your notes into paper planes.

And today your quills mysteriously turned into birds in transfiguration.

And by 'someone' you meant The Marauders. But with every prank a part of you began building an immunity of sorts.

You stopped caring. It would only last a year or so. You thought. You'd graduate in a year and you'd never have to see their stupid, arrogant faces.

So what if you got drenched, you'll dry.

If they switched your writing ink to squid, you could switch it back.

If they transfigured your stuff you could just reverse it.

You sat on your bed, dressed in pastel blue pajamas with five books scattered in front of you.

You sighed, looking down on your notes (which you had to rewrite) then staring up to your reflection in the wardrobe mirror.

Tired and distracted you decided to get some fresh air. It was around 11, your roommate was asleep snuggled in a large soft-looking blanket.

You piled your books over the nightstand and slipped on your slippers. You tip-toed down the stairs quietly avoiding making sound as much as possible.

The last thing you needed to top of your week was getting caught sneaking out after curfew.

The breezy night provided a beautiful and much -needed change of atmosphere. In the night with swaying trees and the sound of waves, you felt un-caged.

For the first time this year, you didn't feel worried or stressed or sad or as though you failed in life.

You felt free.

You walked around the edge of the forest for a while before deciding to head to the lake.

But the more you walked, the more you had this weird feeling someone was watching you.

You sat across the lake throwing small rocks at it, watching as they made small circular waves.

The castle was a good distance now, which meant there was an almost impossible chance someone would know sneaked out.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the salty and earth-y yet refreshing scent of your surroundings.

As you stared up at the crescent moon, you thought of your future life. You wanted to become an Unspeakable. But because Unspeakables weren’t allowed to speak of their job or life (Hence the name) you didn’t know what to take.

So you were faced to take all the O.W.L’s and all N.E.W.T’s, which caused multiple challenges and problems for you. You had to study most of your subjects on your own, since you couldn’t actually attend all the classes and that led to you not being able to go to Hogsmede or hang out with your friends.

There had once been a period were you were so stressed that you skipped meals and barely ate and ended up unconscious as you left the common room. Ironically, it had been Sirius Black that found you and carried you all the way to Madam Promfrey and called Professor McGonagall.

According to Poppy, Sirius had spent the whole night at the infirmary, refusing to leave; even when McGonagall threatened him with various detentions.

When you found out you were shocked and thought this was his way of turning over a new leaf, However; that went down the drain when he and his little group thought it’d be funny to hide your stuff all around the castle.

Your thoughts were abruptly frozen when you heard a noise come from the forest. It was so dark that you could barely make out the branches of some of the trees. You cursed yourself for forgetting your wand.

You narrowed your eyes at the sound, trying to focus your vision to make out a shadow of the being that was intruding on your ‘me time’, as the Muggles say.

You raised your palm, ready to cast a wandless incendio if anything dangerous came out. You weren’t exactly frightened, you came to this spot a lot and so Hagrid gave you a few private lessons on all the main things to know about the forests.

The dark figure was getting closer and you narrowed your eyes further, daring them to come closer.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Sirius Black says with his infamous smirk as he walks out of the shadows, like a level 10 psychopath.

“What are you doing here?!” You whisper-shouted at the boy. “Have you gone insane?! I was two seconds away from roasting you!” You say outraged as he calmly sits down next you, legs stretched, leaning back on his palms.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?”

You stared at his face with wide eyes before you threw your hands up in the air in defeat.

“Yeah, it’s a great night.” You said sarcastically.

“This is what a guy gets when he tries to be nice.”

“Nice?” You scoffed, “I think it would physically kill you to try and be civil let alone nice.”

“Is it so hard for you to believe that I can be nice? Yeah, I know. I can be a twat. And I don’t always want to prank you-”

“Then why do it?”

“Because it’s the only way I can get your attention?” He said looking at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ever since third year, where you chose all the classes, which I didn’t even think was possible, you been like a ghost. You’re either in class, in the library or in your room. And even when you’re in the great hall you’re like a mindless zombie.” He turns to you, his eyes boring into yours with sadness roaming in them.

“Remember in first and second year, where you actually spoke to us. When you went to our games or you hanged out with us in the courtyard or helped us with our homework. Where’s that Y/n? At first we thought of the prank as nothing but a joke, hoping you would come back.”

You swallowed, not expecting how this conversation turned out. “You left and never came back. You left us after you promised you wouldn’t…you left me.”

“Sirius…” You took a few seconds to look into his eyes, getting lost in the depths of his grey orbs. Your face is inches from Sirius’. You find yourself completely captured by his gaze, eyes boring into you and holding you prisoner, refusing to release you from the trance you’re in.

You felt guilty and sad and there was another emotion swirling in the pit of your chest. You couldn’t help but truly look at him. This was Sirius. He looked so vulnerable, so open. Even if you haven’t had a civil conversation with him in years.

You knew Sirius had his mask on. Always.

A mask of happiness even when he was sad.

A mask of courage even if he was scared.

A mask of safety even when he was hurt.

But this Sirius, the one in front of you, was mask less. He looked broken, sad and hurt. And somehow it pushed you back to second year. Right after the sorting, you remembered Sirius crying and whimpering on the ground.

You remembered cleaning the wounds his father caused, you remember him telling you he was threatened to not speak a word to his brother, that if he did his little brother would suffer worse.

You remembered holding Sirius the whole night promising you will never leave.

You remembered promising yourself you’ll never let Sirius feel like this again.

When you looked up at him again he was much closer than he was before. Your nose was brushing his as his eyes settled on your lips before facing yours once more. You were sharing breaths and you were gasping softly, both of your breaths felt as if they weighed a hundred tons.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Please,” you breathe, already leaning in.

Fireworks exploded in your head as your lips meet his; he keeps a firm but gentle grip on your face, a great contrast to the kiss, which was heated and desperate.

You let yourself be carried away by the moment, losing yourself in his mouth and in the warmth of his body next to yours. Without parting your lips with his, you climb on top of Sirius swiftly, hiding your fingers in his hair. His hands were quick to rub your thighs up and down eagerly.

“Y/n!” he moaned into your mouth.

Sirius planted a kiss on your neck. It started as something innocent, a mere brush of his lips on your skin, but it intensified as the seconds passed.

His lips caressed every inch of skin within reach, sucking and biting delicately until they left marks that would not disappear quickly. You closed your eyes enjoying the waves of electricity that coursed through your body at his assault on your skin.

Your grip on his hair tightened and he let out a low moan that vibrated against your neck and went straight to your core.

Sirius' wet kisses trailed up your throat until they reached your mouth, where he joined your lips once more in a desperate kiss. He trapped your upper lip between his, his tongue exploring your mouth expertly.

And so you got lost in Sirius, you fell and fell deep; entranced by his stormy eyes and suffocating lips.

 The light hit your lidded eyes, beckoning them open. You turned to your side desperate for more sleep. You tried to fall back into your dream a deep chuckling caught your ears. You snapped your eyes open, horrified when you saw Sirius laying next you, shirtless and a smile on his face.

“Morning.” He said but your head was still in shock. You blinked stupidly and tried to desperately remember what happened last night. You sat up quickly rubbing your eyes only to realize you were only in your underwear. You snatched the blanket you were sleeping on and covered yourself.

“There’s isn’t really anything to hide after last night, darling.” Sirius said amused, sitting causing his blanket to trail down. Your face flushed red as you shot him a glare. “Screw you!”

“You already did but I won’t say no to a round 2.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “We didn’t…did we?” You asked your voice rising in pitch.

“Not all the way. I would never to that, not like this.” He said seriously, surprising you.

“I’m gonna go.” You said awkwardly as hid behind a tree and put on your pajamas.

“Y/n wait!”

You turned and faced Sirius, your face growing redder as you caught him dressing. He took his wand out and transfigured the blankets back into his shirt before putting on.

“You transfigured your shirt into blankets?”

“Well I couldn’t exactly let you sleep on the ground or get cold.”

“I…”

“Let me walk you back?…Please?”

“Sure.” You said as he smiled and jogged up to you.

You walked in awkward silence, or at least it was awkward for you. Sirius, on the other hand, looked as if he was having a mental battle in his head. “Penny for your thoughts?”  You questioned.

“Oh, sorry. Um…What- Are you free next Hogsmede?” He asked, stepping in your way and pausing you.

You looked at him surprised. Was he…going to ask you out? You wondered with a tilt of your head.

“I wasn’t planning on going.” You said and felt slightly bad when you saw his face fall. “Oh. Okay…uhm.” He said.

“But I guess it’s not too late to free my day. Why?” You asked hoping he would take up the opening. You bit your lip, nervously; you weren’t sure but there was a part of you that did want Sirius to ask you out.

“Would like to go to Hogsmede…like on a date?” He asked nervously, “With me.” He then clarified.

“An actual date? Not a hook up or a prank?” You asked, fiercely staring him down.

“No! No! No! A date. A real date with me. We don’t have to go to Hogsmede…we could have a picnic here at the lake. Or go flying at the Pitch Or-”

“Yeah, Hogsmede sounds nice.” You said as he looked up at you with wide eyes. He was about to say something but you held a finger up, shutting him. “But…If this ends up being a prank or a way to get into my pants. I will hurt you.”

“I wouldn’t- No! I want, I’ve wanted to for three years.” He said, genuinely.

“…Don’t play with my heart. Not like you do with others.”

And with complete sincerity, Sirius’ replied, “I would never play with something so priceless.”

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@twerkforsheep, I hope you liked it and is what you asked for.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius orion black #sirius black x fem!reader