#and i am constantly sick in the head about the traveler being tired of the ragbros nonsense communication

[starsandthorn]

no but actually. the parallels to other Twins in different nations of teyvat in relation to the traveler and their desire to reunite with their own sibling makes me a little bit bonkers. like.

diluc and kaeya as what the traveler has and fears, after we will be reunited [separation born from conflict that seemingly cannot be mended; they both care for each other but ultimately their opposing ideals mean they cannot be at each other's side in the same way that they used to, and no longer have the close bond they once did]

ei and makoto as what the abyss sibling experienced [a crushing loss not just of one's twin but the last remaining friend they had and the safety and security of their nation, coming out the other side traumatized, cold and jaded and making decisions that will ultimately hurt the people they claim to want to protect for the sake of an unattainable goal]

and lyney and lynette as what the traveler and the abyss twin used to have before they were separated [never apart for long, home is wherever we are together], what the traveler wants [their separation brief and quickly amended, continuing to be inseparable after they reunite], and also the choice they'll have to make [the twins being together in an organization the traveler inherently doesn't trust - does the traveler want to be by their sibling's side badly enough to throw their lot in with the abyss, and turn their back on everyone else they've met on their journey so far?]

#personal stuff #thorn plays genshin #RIPS AND TEARS. #hi . feeling so normal btw #i was thinking so so so so hard about the traveler twins when ei's second story quest dropped #and i am constantly sick in the head about the traveler being tired of the ragbros nonsense communication #and THEN in fontaine the traveler having to watch these two twins who are incredibly close. #and try not to think about what they've lost #i'm. uuaauguugh #LIKE #the traveler and the abyss twin really are what the fontaine twins could be if either of them lost the other. #at the end of his story quest lyney talks about how both of them give each other strength to get through the darkest days #and how darkness never consumes him because he has his sister and they remember the good things together [punches the ground] #also lyney and lynette losing their trust in people early on and having to lie to everyone around them #and getting the companionship that kaeya never got in his childhood. cries #like he had his twin!!! he had his brother!!! but he had to lie to him for years and never felt truly understood until that night #and AUUUGH the running theme of one twin being Light and the other being Dark #one always brightly engaging with people while the other deals with matters from the shadows #and the brothers flipping that on its head when diluc returns to mondstadt - diluc in the shadows and kaeya with the knights #and ei getting someone who will be her shadow so she can finally step into the light herself and see the world with her own eyes. #just AUUGUUGHGH. i'm fine. i'm normal #this is incoherent maybe but augh. augh. siblings. #[looking back at the earth] wait the game is about family? always has been

[severalforraelee]

Two More Babies: Prove It Short Story

Prompt: Could u do a prove it short story, if maxes reaction to finding out about the other 2 pregnancies??

Written by raelee / Posted July 2

Word count: 1,859

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

Prove It Masterlist

I lean over the toilet bowl, breakfast escaping me even though I didn't have much of it to begin with. My hands grip the porcelain surface, tears kissing my eyes as I gag.

I know why I’m throwing up. I’ve known for weeks- officially four days. Feeling tired isn’t unusual for me, I’m a mom to a two year old and have a demanding job where I travel a lot. Being bloated isn’t unusual for me, I never truly returned to my pre-pregnancy body.

But the way that the tiredness and bloating felt this time was different. I’ve only felt it once before, and that was when I took that test and realized that I was pregnant with Rowan. So, before the three of us left for the race weekend, I took a pregnancy test, without Daniel by my side this time. In fact, I didn’t have anyone by my side this time.

Max was out on a jog and Rowan was taking a nap with Tala by his side as I folded the laundry with shaky hands, the test flipped upside down so that I didn’t see the results before the timer went off.

I was folding Rowan’s tiny red ‘Leclerc’ shirt as the timer went off and I found out that I’m pregnant with Max and my second child.

And I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with that information since then.

I exit the bathroom in the Ferrari motorhome, finding Rowan playing with his toy trains on the couch where I left him. To my surprise, or maybe not since Charles seeks him out everytime he has a chance, Rowan now has a playmate.

“Mommy’s sick?” Rowan asks as I join the pair.

“I’m feeling better, buddy,” I answer, picking up a green train.

Charles’ eyes burn into me as I avoid his gaze. He can always tell when something’s wrong.

“Are you not feeling okay?” He questions.

“No, it’s-”I stutter. I don’t know what to say, truthfully I was hoping to hide my symptoms well enough that I didn’t have to tell anyone until I told Max and we figured out how we wanted to tell people together. I didn’t expect my son to be the source of gossip in the paddock. That’s Pierre’s job. “I know what it is, okay, Charles?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks slowly.

Tears prick my eyes at his question. Pregnancy hormones are starting early this time.

“So,” I take a deep breath, “I’m pregnant. I don’t know how far along I am or anything, I just took a test the other day and it came back positive.”

“Congratulations?” The way he says it reminds me a lot of how it was last time.

“Yeah, I mean, it was actually kind of planned,” I admit.

“Kind of?”

“We weren’t using protection, so we weren’t preventing it, but we didn’t outright have a conversation on when we’d like to have our next child,” I explain.

“So what’s the problem then?” He inquires, brows furrowed in confusion. I can understand, the way that I’m acting is very contradictory of my words.

“I’m scared,” I let out a watery chuckle, “You know how it went last time, Charles. We were constantly fighting and there was so much drama in and outside of our relationship, I hated bringing Rowan into that environment and with another it’ll be so much harder.”

“It definitely was tough,” he agrees, “But it’s different now, Y/N. For one, you’re married now. And two, you already figured out how to parent with Rowan so you don’t have to go through that entire process again. Max was a douchebag, and he still is at times-”I giggle at that. “But he has always genuinely cared about you and Rowan and would never let that side of him impact your family.”

I nod, wiping the tears.

“Are you worried about his reaction at all?” The Monaco native inquires.

“No,” I confess immediately. “I knew that as soon as he finds out that we’re having another baby, he’s going to be ecstatic.”

“What?” We both whip our heads around to find Max at the entrance to the Ferrari motorhome, blue eyes popping because of how wide they are and lips dropped open in shock.

I rise on shaky legs, not wanting to stand too fast and have the nausea hit again. He takes a step forward. “We’re having another baby?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, we are.”

He strides forward, pulling me into a tight embrace as soon as he reaches me. “I’m so excited, darling. Another baby.”

He pulls back, resting his hands on my biceps as he leans forward, planting kiss after kiss on my lips. “No need to be so disgusting,” Charles fake gags.

“Two of our own babies, Y/N. You’re truly magnificent.” His blue eyes twinkle and the smile on his lips is the one only reserved for Rowan, Tala, and I. And now, this new baby. His family.

~

“Negative,” I say, avoiding eye contact with those familiar blue eyes. I used to make eye contact with him while saying that word, seeking the comfort and reassurance in them and ignoring the hurt and yearning.

We’ve been trying for our third and final baby for almost a year now- pretty much as soon as I got the clearance to have sex after giving birth to Keagan. But, with no luck.

I can’t help but think that it’s fate’s way of showing the irony of the situation. Rowan was an accidental pregnancy, I got pregnant after having sex with Max twice in one night, Keagan wasn’t quite planned but wasn’t accidental either and I got pregnant about a month into using no protection, but now that we want another baby more than anything, we aren’t falling pregnant.

“Hey,” he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. I continue to avoid his eyes, setting the test on the bathroom counter with a shaky hand. “Look at me.”

His fingers brush my chin, tilting my head up to look into his crystal blue eyes. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We’re in this together.”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“We’re in this together,” I whisper.

He nods, a soft smile on his lips. A soft peck is planted on my lips. “Remember that.”

Weeks go by with me being unable to take another pregnancy test. For three weekends in a row, we have races, and if I’m not busy working, I’m busy having sex with my husband or being a mom to our two boys.

“Why does my godson keep doing that?” Charles questions, watching as Keagan presses his tiny palms into my stomach.

“He is not your godson,” Carlos argues. Who’s Rowan’s godfather was a hot topic- but who’s Keagan’s godfather might be an even bigger one.

“They named him after me,” Charles fights.

“As his middle name. You never use a middle name! And the next one is going to be named after me, so don’t be too full of yourself.”

I roll my eyes at the bickering, picking the brunette baby up and into my arms.

Charles gasps. Carlos and I turn our heads to look at him in suspicion- the last time Charles gasped, it was because he saw a dragonfly the size of a golf ball and he thought that it was too big.

“Y/N, do you think that Keagan keeps pressing on your stomach because you’re pregnant and he knows?”

Charles’ question causes me to freeze and another gasp is heard from behind me. Lando appears beside me before I can even turn around, eyes wide.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I stutter, “We’ve been trying for another baby but I haven’t taken a test in a while.”

“Y/N,” Carlos’ voice grabs my attention, “I will go get you a pregnancy test on one condition. You name this baby after me.”

“Hey, if that’s what it takes to get a baby named after you, I’ll get you a test,” Lando whines.

I roll my eyes as the bickering starts, shifting Keagan in my arms.

“I’ll race you for it,” Lando teases before immediately running away, the Spainard taking off after him.

Charles smiles smugly at me. “I don’t have to race them, I already have a baby named after me.”

A little while goes by and Max arrives, his hand gripping Rowan’s.

“What’s going on?” He asks skeptically once he sees the looks on mine and Charles’ faces.

“Lando and Carlos ran to the store,” I inform him, “To buy me a pregnancy test.”

“Really?” His eyes glance down at my stomach, taking Keagan from my arms. “You think-””I mean, it makes sense,” I cut him off, “Keagan keeps pressing on my stomach, and babies tend to know these things. And now that I realize it, I haven’t been feeling the best lately. I just thought that it was because I’ve been so busy.”

“No!” A sudden scream catches our attention. We watch as Carlos pushes Lando to the ground, running as fast as he can to reach us first.

“That’s not fair,” Lando hollers, rising to his feet and running in our direction. “I was ahead, you cheated. Y/N, he cheated, you still have to name the baby after me!”

Max gives me a questioning look and I wave him off. “Just some stupid competition that they had.”

“Take the tests right now.” Both Lando and Carlos throw the boxes into my hands, ushering me into a nearby bathroom.

Once I exit after taking the tests, my husband instantly wraps an arm around my waist. Charles bounces around in excitement, Carlos and Lando are huddled up and whispering to each other, Keagan plays with a block in Max’s arms, and Rowan watches everyone rush by around us.

“Okay, we came to an agreement,” Lando informs us.

I raise my eyebrows, deciding to humor him. “What is it?”

“We decided that the baby’s name can be Carlando.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Alex Albon questions, joining our group.

“When Y/N’s pregnancy test comes back positive, the baby's name is going to be Carlando,” Carlos explains.

“I want the baby to be named after me, too,” Alex begs.

“You weren’t part of the competition, mate,” the Brit snaps back, causing Alex to widen his eyes in surprise at the reaction.

“It’s time,” Max announces.

I pull the tests out of my pocket. They’re both positive.

Max pulls me into him, kissing my temple. “I’m so excited, darling.”

After the boys congratulate us, Charles inquires, “What do you think, three boys? Like me and my brothers?”

“No, it’s a girl,” Rowan pipes up. Everyone looks at each other with raised eyebrows at his confidence. “And her middle name is going to be Stavelot after the track that we’re at right now. Not Lanlos or whatever you just said.”

“Carlando,” Carlos corrects the four year old.

“I actually do like that idea,” I confess.

And nine months later, Avery Stavelot Verstappen completed our family.

#formula 1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 x reader #sfrproveit

[rothjuje]

Loved all your comments on my solo travel inquiry. A couple people said FOMO is real, and you were right. I told Justin I was going to plan trips with or without him and then the following week he started planning one for us hahaha.

Summer. Every time there is a break from school, every time, I think ooh this is going to be so nice, get to sleep in, not worry about the crazy of different schedules etc. No. No Jess. The kids will wake up even earlier with instant whines of “I’m borrred!”

Tuesday we did a farm, a park, and then the lake for $1 ice cream. Wednesday we played/swam at the lake for most of the day. Thursday we went to a touch a truck event, the library, a park, and then swimming at a friend’s pool. And this morning the kids played happily for an hour before the “I’m borrred” and constant bickering started. Whyyy. I’m so tired. George and I have been going to bed early/sleeping late to recover. I’m also old so I’m sore and had to take Motrin to walk straight after 3 nonstop days, oy.

One of my best friends up here has a pool. We hang together several times a week because she also has a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Anyway, was super excited to use her pool this summer but turns out my pool fantasy is really more of a nightmare. George simply will not get in after several days of coaxing. But he does love to throw things into the pool. Dirt. Towels. Shoes. Clothes. Phones. It hasn’t been fun. My friend is convinced that pools are relaxing for adults and fun for kids. But she also ingests a lot of weed. I ingest no weed and I find George at the pool to be very, very stressful. He won’t wear a swim diaper or a floaty (not that he gets in but I am very fearful of him falling in while he bends over the edge trying to retrieve stuff he’s chucked in).

Anyway. My friend says I’m letting anxiety control my life. The pool dilemma is causing us to butt heads. But. Why should I take my neurodivergent child who is unaware of drowning or consequences in general to a pool where I have to constantly control his behavior? I mean anything sounds more fun than that. If he was my only kid then okay, but I have to constantly leave him in the pool area to take the girls to the bathroom or get them a snack etc and maybe it is anxiety. Maybe it is secondary trauma from our first placement who had brain damage from a near drowning incident. Or maybe it’s normal to not feel relaxed while at the pool with 3 kids that don’t know how to swim, one being neurodivergent.

I can understand her feelings being hurt that I no longer want to bring the kids over, but I am honestly so sick of having to explain to people that trying to keep George safe in certain situations is mentally taxing eg by bodies of water or in busy downtown areas (he likes to be near the street so he can watch trucks go by).

Sigh.

I’m just tired of being the uptight friend. I’m so chill at home or at fenced in parks or at the beach or lake (George and Genna love sand/playing at the shore). I hate being the one to constantly veto plans or control where they take place. Honestly, I rather my friends just hang out without us and let me escape to the low-stress lake that no one else wants to go to. But they feel guilty and then I feel bad and ugh.

Is there a solution I’m missing?

Anyway. So so excited for a normal weekend without recitals or holidays, it’s been almost a month since our last normal/chill weekend. I’m looking forward to catching up on chores which probably sounds boring but the state of our house and lack of clean laundry is starting to super stress me out. I’m also so behind on gardening stuff, some of my plant babies desperately need to be replanted or pruned.

I probably sound like the least fun person after this post 😂

[dirtroadtooutofhere]

Chapter 1 - "Rumors of Canada" Raymond

I was leaning down, focused on the engine of our beat-up station wagon, when a loud crack! sound caused me to jump back, hitting my head against the popped hood. Messaging the back of my head, I turned to see my best friend Max running down the steps into the garage, flailing a wrinkled piece of paper in front of her.

“Raymond! Raymond! You are NOT going to believe this.”

“I sure hope not to, if it’s worth kicking the door in over.”

She didn’t bother to ask if I was okay. Instead, she hurriedly flattened the piece of parchment over the engine block, grinning with even more wild enthusiasm than usual. It was an old interstate map, covered in her rabid handwriting. A handful of colored lines traced from Key West (where we are) all the way up to the US-Canadian border. Tapping her finger where all the lines ended, she declared: “We’re going to Canada!”

My eyes darted around her face in confusion. She’d clearly lost it, and I figured I’d communicate this clearly and concisely to her. “Max. It is in my humble professional opinion, that all your marbles, every last one of your marbles, have gone to Canada, and left you behind.”

“I’m serious, Raymond! I heard that it’s completely safe. They’ve fortified the country, restarted civilization, and kept it completely zombie-free!”

The few other survivors down here are – how do I put this lightly – whack jobs. Not in the stupid or insane way, no, just the gullible and desperate way. Maybe the Floridian heat and boredom of the apocalypse got to them. Maybe it’s finally getting to Max, if she’d believe such a fantastical rumor. The doubt dripping from my face must have been pretty obvious, enough to make her turn around and head for the broadband radio we found a couple months ago. Switching it to AM, she quickly tuned down to 15 Mega-hertz, then crawled through the individual frequencies, searching for a specific signal.

“You’re not gonna find anything, you know. I’ve tried it a thousand times.”

“Shh!”

I let slip a faint sigh. When my friend sets her mind on something, she can be impossible to deal with. She has a hard time gauging when her determination has slipped into plain stubbornness. After a few minutes, she lifted her hand from the knob, and silently waved me over. I knelt down next to her and put my ear next to the speaker, just to humor her.

Part of me hoped that I’d be wrong. That I’d hear something about a safe-zone established by our far-north neighbors. All we got was static.

Max waited expectantly. I gave it a couple more minutes, but I was starting to grow tired of the futility, and was about to leave when she turned the radio back off. Her eyebrows pinched down a little, but she didn’t look nearly as dejected as I expected her to.

“Okay, well! So the radio isn’t picking anything up. We’re across the entirely of America, I think it’s fair to assume any transmissions from up there wouldn’t quite reach. But we still gotta try! Do you wanna stay on this boiling little island for the rest of your life? Scavenging increasingly sparse resources and constantly worrying about stray zombies?”

Patience and pragmatism are something I pride myself in. I’m not the type to make irrational or impulsive travel plans through the hordes that cover the mainland. The apocalypse, however, is very easy to get sick of. After a year and a half of barely scraping by, even a long-shot possibility of escaping the undead starts to sound pretty good. Hell, if any country could hold back the zombie apocalypse, it’d be one with low population density, and already used to relative isolation and extreme circumstances. I hesitate, but decide it’s still not a good idea.

Before I can tell her no, though, she says something stupid about being a ‘dream team’. Her athletics and zombie-killing proficiency, my mechanical knowledge and wits. Our combined experience dominating the Florida Keys. That we really do have a shot at making it, if I ‘stopped being such a fucking pussy’.

“I’m perfectly fine being a coward, if it means I’m a living one, Max!”

“Are you really a living coward? Or are you just a surviving coward?”

It’s maybe one of the dumbest things I’ve heard her say, but I still choked on a good response.

She smirked, and I immediately lost the argument.

#zombies #death road to canada #writing #chapter 1

[set-phasers-to-whump]

"make me"

prompt: "make me"

whumpee: illya kuryakin

fandom: the man from uncle

here is Another illya whump fic this month...i can't stop lmao. anyways i am super happy with the way this fic turned out! i hope you like it :) also notes it's set really soon after the movie and is pretty solidly pre ship napoleon/illya but i don't know that it Has to be read that way, you feel me?

After Istanbul, the newly-formed UNCLE team had traveled to London, riding the high of a mission gone perfectly right. In no small part thanks to this fact, both the CIA and KGB had deigned to allow their respective agents to remain under Waverly’s employ for a while longer. This would mean, Waverly had explained, that all three agents would relocate to London and report directly and firstly to him. 

Illya had not been so sure about this. Being a KGB agent under British control could either go very wrong or very right, with the outcome depending very little upon Illya himself. 

But orders are orders. In this business, there is no such thing as making a choice. And so Illya (along with Solo and Gaby) had moved to London a week ago. 

It is…nice. The building. The neighborhood. He is not sure that he likes it, exactly. But it’s nice. 

What is less nice is that Solo and Gaby live here, too. On different floors, but still. He cannot help but feel that it is a bit foolish for Waverly to house all of his agents in one place. Especially when two of those agents are constantly knocking on his door and inviting him to dinner or drinks or to play a game of chess. 

They work together, this is all. And only barely. They are not friends. It is not a good idea to become too…involved with each other. 

Not that it stops the other two from trying. 

--

Illya wakes to someone pounding on his door. The pounding echoes around in his head and makes it very difficult to hear the voice shouting to him. 

“Peril? You alive in there?” are the first clear words he hears. 

He sits up slowly. His head is still pounding and feels sort of like it’s been stuffed with cotton. He’s sweaty but he’s cold. His chest aches. He’s tired even though he only just woke up. 

He’s sick. 

It’s fine. 

He is used to working through minor discomforts. Bruised ribs, a broken ankle, the flu, his mother’s death. Spy work stops for nothing. 

He gets out of bed and has to grab the edge of the nightstand to keep from falling to the floor. His legs ache like he’s just run a marathon. His head spins. 

He’s fine. 

He half-staggers to the front door, looks through the peephole on the off chance that Solo has decided to leave him alone, then reluctantly opens the door when he sees his new partner standing there looking like he has no intention of leaving. 

“What,” he says flatly, standing in the doorway so that Solo won’t consider himself invited inside. 

Solo pushes past him anyway. “I brought breakfast,” he says, by way of greeting. Illya looks at his hands, which hold a paper bag. 

“Why,” Illya says, in the same flat voice. He’s aware he’s not being very hospitable, but can’t be bothered to care. What is Solo doing here, anyway? 

“Because you’ve been avoiding doing things with Gaby and me, and while I get the whole ‘lone wolf’ thing you've got going on, it’s not exactly good for team morale. So I brought bagels and I’m not leaving until we’ve eaten them.”

Illya, sensing that he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter, pulls the door closed behind Solo. 

“Where is Gaby?” he asks. 

Solo raises an eyebrow at him. “At training. Waverly told us yesterday.”

Oh. He does remember that, actually. It must be the fever interfering with his memory. He needs to focus. Breakfast might help with that, he supposes reluctantly. 

Solo finds his way to Illya’s small kitchen table on his own. “The layout of all of our apartments is exactly the same,” he observes. “Where’s the fun in that? I think I need to do some rearranging.”

Illya hums in response and settles down into a chair. Solo opens the bag and passes him a bagel filled with cream cheese. Illya stares at it. It makes him hungry and nauseous in equal measures. 

Solo takes a bite of his own bagel and stares across the table at Illya. “What, don’t tell me you don’t like bagels,” he says, mouth full. 

Illya half-reluctantly begins to eat. 

The bagel, annoyingly, is delicious. Of course it is. Solo gives him a self-satisfied look. 

“So,” he says. “What do you like to do for fun?”

Illya blinks long and hard. What kind of question is that?

“I play chess.” 

He sets the bagel down. He does not think he can eat any more. 

“Besides that,” Solo prods, already halfway done with his food.

He can’t think of anything. He’s tired. His stomach hurts. He wants to be left alone. 

“Hey,” Solo says, and there’s a different note in his voice now. 

Illya looks up at him, resisting the impulse to rest his head on his hands. 

“Are you feeling okay?”

Illya continues staring. He should lie and say yes, like he has done every single time someone has asked him this question in the past twenty years. 

Something prevents him from saying a thing. 

Solo is touching him. There’s a hand on his forehead. He hadn’t registered the movement. He instinctively moves backwards from the touch, nearly falling out of his chair. 

Solo’s next to him, then, hands on his shoulders. It takes Illya an uncharacteristically long amount of time to realize that Solo’s hands are very likely the only thing preventing him from hitting the ground. 

“Are you okay?” Solo asks again. “And don’t even think about saying yes. I can feel you burning up through your shirt.”

“Go away,” Illya mutters, feeling too bad to even care about how petulant he sounds. He just wants to be left alone. He wants to sleep. Everything feels bad. 

“Not happening. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Illya says nothing. Solo sighs beside him, his breath uncomfortably warm on Illya’s skin. 

“Alright, I’m leaving,” he says. 

That is…unexpected. Not that Illya is going to complain. 

“Goodbye.”

He watches Solo leave, not satisfied that he’s actually going until the door clicks behind him. 

Illya shoves himself up from the table and shuffles across the floor to lock the door. Then he stumbles to his bedroom and flops down onto the bed, not bothering to close the door or even climb under the covers. 

He’s asleep in seconds anyway. 

--

He wakes up freezing. Something is touching him on the forehead. Something cold and damp. 

He opens his eyes. It’s pleasantly dim in his room. He’s covered by a blanket, but it feels different to his own. It smells different, too. Like…

“Good morning. Or afternoon, really.”

Solo. 

Illya struggles to sit up. The thing on his forehead slowly slips off, leaving a trail of dampness down his face. It lands on the not-his blanket, revealing itself to be a washcloth that is also not his. 

“You feeling any better?” Solo asks. His voice is strangely quiet. Illya does not like it. He does not understand why Solo is here. 

He cannot honestly answer yes to Solo’s question, however. He’s dizzy from sitting up. His head still aches. For that matter, so does the rest of his body. The nausea is less prominent than it had been before, but it’s still irritatingly present. He feels awful. He isn’t supposed to, but he does. There’s a pressure building in his head, centered behind his eyes. He closes them in hopes of alleviating it. 

“Peril?”

“Please leave,” Illya says. His voice is far too quiet and shaky, but at least it’s working. He wants to be left alone. He does not know how else to suffer. 

“You’re still too hot,” Solo says in response, pressing a hand to Illya’s forehead. “Sit up a little bit?”

For some unknown reason, Illya listens. Solo shoves a pillow behind his back. Illya leans against it, propped up at a much more comfortable angle. Solo replaces the horribly cold, wet cloth. 

Illya really does not understand this. How is Solo even here? How did he get inside? Hadn’t he locked the door? And why is he here? Can’t he leave Illya to be miserable in peace? Why does he care? Even if they are partners now, they’re not friends. Solo has no reason to care for him like this. He can’t…he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

“Stop…caring about me,” he half-growls, his voice stronger than it has been all day. 

He hadn’t intended for it to come out quite so snappish and rude. It’s just. He doesn’t understand. No one has cared for him when he’s been sick or hurt since he was a small child. Only small children really need to be cared for, anyway. He’s an adult. This concern Solo has for him is overwhelming. It’s confusing. Inexplicable. 

“Make me.” 

There’s that already-familiar look of stubborn determination on Solo’s face. Illya gets the feeling that the only way he can make Solo stop is to knock him unconscious. 

He definitely doesn’t have the strength. 

“Okay. You can stay.”

Solo grins. Illya doesn’t think he’s seen Solo smile like this before. It’s…open. Simple. There’s nothing else behind it, no ulterior motive. And Solo is giving this smile to him?

He still doesn’t understand. 

“Why?” he asks. His voice comes out far too broken and weak. 

“Why am I here? Because I care about you, you idiot.”

“Why?”

Solo looks at him, a bit helpless. “Because you’re here,” he offers, after a moment of silence. “You’re sick, you’re my partner, you’re a person. Of course I care about you. Why shouldn’t I?”

Illya blinks. The pressure behind his eyes is back. His throat hurts. Solo’s hand is in his hair. It’s gentle, comforting. Illya shouldn’t like this. Shouldn’t want it. 

But he does. 

He leans into the touch, just a bit. His eyes slip closed. He stops thinking about what he should and should not want. 

He has this. Even if he still doesn’t quite know why. 

He falls back asleep with Solo’s hand still in his hair.

aaaa thank you for reading this!!! went a little insane writing it (in a very good way). yeah i am. i really liked writing this. i hope you enjoyed reading it!!

#whumpmasinjuly #my writing #i say things #the man from uncle #illya kuryakin #sick #fever #cared for #comfort #anyways i had a lot of fun with their characterization in this one bc it's so early to the start of their partnership #i loved just shaking them around in my little shoebox you know? #especially illya. i just. i love him so much and idk i Get Him you feel me? like not in the way of perfectly understanding his character or #anything. i just. get it. idk. but yeah he's always rotating in my brain like a rotisserie chicken #ok i gotta go now i am so tired #but i have the day off tomorrow! wahoo #gonna be totally unproductive while telling myself 'hey you should do all the stuff you put off bc you had work' lmao

[tomyo]

Like bad manic episodes strips away my people pleasing politeness and maybe I just really wanna tell people like I understand but I also feel like I’m being guilted for a minor situation and while I too understand rejection sensitivity, I’ve also had people punish me rather than try to make the next time work better. Maybe I want to admit I’m feeling like constantly friend circles expect me to be too much on leading everything and I’m tired of being a project manager that no one listens to. It was absolutely infuriating last year the amount of times I tried to assign simple task for group work only to feel like no one was about it and I mean I can get it but then don’t ask me to lead more ambitious projects when I watched to fail to do like 20 prior assignments. I’m sick of somehow still getting lumped into giving someone a therapy session when I pulled out of the friendship in the first place. I’m tired of my mum not respecting that just being she owns her car doesn’t change the fact that we are 3 car dependent people in a two car household and just going to another state without telling anyone is both anxiety inducing and forcing the other two people to not go anywhere that whole day. I’m tired of her being mad I have to travel for work and giving her a heads up when I do when she doesn’t even do the same back. I am still so fucking mad at her for dropping a ‘I ate here because there were vegan options’ card on the table after my birthday lunch when it does not change anyone’s opinions and is the same guilting tactic as fucking Christians to push beliefs onto someone else. And she has had the gall to compare being vegan to being queer. I’m just so fucking mad at so much shit and I needed to fucking let it out.

#tomyo says shit #mental health

[spitefulsatanwrites]

'bully in big boy shoes' (C. rk800)

ask; “What abt Connor reacting to the reader punching the shit out of Gavin”

warings; cursing, slight violence in the workplace

rating; pg13

pairing; conner model rk800 x GN!reader

summary; conner has been getting pushed around at the DPD since he has arrived and y/n is sick and tired of gavin reed always being agressive towards him.

pre-revolution

~

"hey, tin can." the voice game out gruff and sounded like someone's annoying younger brother trying way to hard to get your attention for something completely foolish.

the voice belonged to gavin reed and oh boy oh boy, did it travel throughout the entire office, which seeing as it was almost always bustling with life and people, that was pretty impressivly annoying.

conner was standing with his back turned to the man in the semi - spacious break room making a cup of coffee to help sober the lieutient up from his hangover, flipping a small coin in between his aligile fingers and back into his palm when the voice from behind him caught his attention.

conner had been dealing with gavin for weeks now while, he hadn't stepped off since he arrived and if he didn't know any better he would've said it must've been out of some sort of pent up jealousy or insecurity or even rage.

but today was different for some reason, conner couldn't explain it and it made gears whirl figuritively and literally in his andriod brain.

"Give it a rest, Reed you've picked on him everyday this month and ne never gives you a reaction."  y/n, a senior detective on homicide, spoke up before conner could even respond to the insufrable nickname Reed had given him on the very first day he even stepped into the DPD.

Reed's head sanpped back to them and he seemed surpised, you hardly ever spoke up at all and when you did it was always about work, you hardly ever stuck up for yourself that is.. "this is between me and him y/n, keep out of it."  he said recovering from his slack jawed silence after a moment, but you weren't having it, you were feeling bold today and if you were honest, you liked Conner, he was nice to you, and Gavin was the worst.

"is it, though?" you asked squinting at him with a fake suspision, "cause you talk so loudly, sometimes I think you want every one to hear you being a bully" you laughed bitterly and looked back to  conner, who was just quietly watching the exchange, his face not showing much but his LED was blinking wildly like he was in deep thought about something.

Gavin tried to speak but you merely cut him off like he wasn't talking at all, or like he was below you, like he treated everybody else, "I think.. you just like to swing your dick around because you're an attention whore and need constant validation, you constantly need to feel like someone thinks you're 'SO COOL' but are you.. really?"

you slowly made a paced walk towards the man, who was sputtering out curses trying to find the right words to hurt your feelings, but truly nothing he could've said would've hurt coming from someone like him.

he was red in the face and looked so pitiful if it wasn't him you would've felt a bit bad about your harsh words, but in the moment it really only made you wanna laugh in his face, he finally managed some words after a long few moments, "whatever, you're just protecting the plastic prick because you wanna fuck him or something, stupid bitch.." was all he got out

"excuse me?"

now you were fuming, "you're gonna regret those words when you eat your goddamn teeth." you barked out angrily, flinging yourself towards him fist raised to land a solid blow to his face but before you could make contact Conner grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back, "y/n, I am going to suggest you don't do that." he said simply, artifical brown eyes just boring down into yours, you wanted to pull away but you were completely captured by his touch for a minute.

Reed was already snickering, backing up with his hands up like he was surrendering, "yeah, tin-can.. control your partner there.. fuckin' manaic.." he grumbled before heading back out towards the main area.

"what a prick." you muttered with a sour look on your face, still staring out where Reed had left from, god how much you wanted to just give him one good punch to the face..

"why did you do that?" conner, whom you'd almost forgot was there asked from close behind you, "I mean, I am an Andriod, he cannot destory me and if he does.. I will just be replaced."

y/n was a bit taken aback, not even they knew truly why they did that, maybe it was because you hated Reed or maybe just because you liked Conner or maybe both.

"cuz'.. I like you. Just because your an android doesn't change that, nobody should be treated like that— he’s just used to swinging his dick around for attention.”

that made the gears in conner's artifical mind whirl again and his LED flash a mixture of the three colors, "oh." was all he managed, but you had changed him, you'd taught him something without even knowing it, something he'd always remember.

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human imagines #detroit being human #conner dbh x reader #conner dbh #conner rk800 #dbh rk800 #dbh imagines #dbh gavin #dbh x reader #dbh fic

[99-nct]

yandere! diluc & kaeya ( separately ) with a willing s/o headcanons

kaeya doesn't strike me as having a preference in appearance; he’d be attracted to intelligence or even the lack of it. he finds it cute if you are clueless in his schemes and finds it attractive if you see through them.

whether you understand he is setting you up for something or not is irrelevant because it will be difficult to escape regardless.

kaeya’s abandonment issues are hard to ignore; he constantly changes how he presents himself to fit into a situation so when he finally lets his guard down around you it’s awkward. never in your wildest dreams would you imagine kaeya to be so clingy; latching onto you like a koala. you don’t take him seriously in his pursuit of you; but you understand if you resist too much it will be harder to get away ( not that he’d let you leave ) so you accept his awkward affections.

kaeya was anticipating more of a struggle, but he appreciates your willingness all the same. all you can do is reassure yourself that kaeya will grow tired of you, that you are just a phase, and that he will lose interest of you are submissive to him ( spoiler he doesn’t )

kaeya will constantly test you boundaries hoping to expose your actual personality; whatever side you show to him as a result will make him happy.

he won’t restrict you when you are willing; but if someone looks a little too long at you the prison of the knight of favonius will be more occupied :)

all in all kaeya isn’t hard to deal with if you ignore his creepy tendencies and this will probably be one of the more normal yan! relationships you’d experience.

"babe what's wrong?" kaeya whispers into your ear pulling you closer to his chest, "are you not happy to see me"

his hands travel from your chest, trailing further down. kaeya eagerly stares at your face hoping to see an adverse reaction; your blank gaze betrays no emotions. he lets out a startled whimper as you bite down on his neck.

"not bad not bad at all," he manages to smirk, "you best prepare yourself for that one."

diluc can be terrifying; his glares will strike fear into the strongest foes - so when you see him looking at you like a lost puppy you can’t help but feel prideful. do you love diluc? you aren’t sure. do you humor his infatuation with you? yes.

your relationship feels quite normal ignoring the fact he doesn’t let you leave the proximity of his estate. all your material desires are met enthusiastically by diluc who is happy to please; an extreme amount of begging is due if you want to see friends & family ( he will most likely turn you down despite being elated that you requested something from him ) flashing a smile, kissing him, and allowing him in your bed will make your stay at the dawn winery more enjoyable (?)

"say diluc can you buy me this?" you ask hesitantly as diluc enters your shared bedroom. his foul mood dissipates as he rushes over to your side.

"of course darling, is there anything else you want?" diluc rests his head on your legs, his eyes shining from your attention. you can almost see puppy ears and a tail eagerly wagging behind him.

"can we spend more time with each other?" you mumble looking at your feet, "you've been so busy i'm getting lonely here."

diluc abruptly lifts you up, striding to your bed, "of course! who am i to leave my beautiful spouse unsatisfied?" leaning in to place a chaste kiss on your forehead, "i'll be sure to make up for our lost time."

diluc’s darling is readying themself for the long run because they don’t see diluc growing sick of them in contrast to kaeya’s darling waiting for him to lose interest

i struggled writing this but the domestic feeling with kaeya and diluc seems nice to think about; if yan! relationships are supposed to be fun. kaeya’s section was longer bc i haven’t really done normal yan! headcannons for him yet

#yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc #yandere kaeya #willing reader #finally finished this #request!! #i feel so happy to finally post some writing #tw: yandere

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: Just a heads up, the sensitive content in this chapter will be marked "<<<<<<" as the beginning and ">>>>>>" to signify the end. The racial slurs used in this chapter were targeted towards African Americans (and still are) and I chose these because I, myself, am African American and used them as a sort of “default” for any POC readers. ⚠️Please, never use these towards anyone. Whether it be in a “joking” manner or not. They are hurtful and were created to be that way⚠️ I wrote this chapter the way I did to bring awareness. Proceed with caution. Much love ❤️

Warnings: ⚠️racial slurs⚠️, violence, mentions of guns and dying/death

Word Count: 3707

—————————————

Chapter 3: The Frankel Footage

Shaking himself out of his shock, Five stood from his seat and hurried after his brother, grabbing onto his arm and stopping his strides. “The hell is wrong with you, Luther? I just told you the world’s gonna end in ten days!”

“Yeah, well, you’re always saying that.” Luther nonchalantly spoke before moving away, but Five intervened yet again.

“And so far, I’ve been right.” He hissed as Luther sighed and shook his head.

“Look, you want to go save the world? Knock yourself out, alright? I already got a job.”

“Wait, you work in this shithole?” The boy furrowed his brows.

“Yeah. Well, my boss owns the place,” Luther only received a nod from his brother, so he clarified. “I’m his body man.”

But this only made Five even more confused. “What’s that? Like, a masseuse or something?”

“Okay, you can make fun all you want, but I take good care of Mr Ruby.”

“Wait, Ruby. The Jack Ruby? The gangster who shot Oswald.”

Despite Five’s concern, Luther proudly smiled a smug smile as he glanced over at his boss. “Yeah. The one and only.”

“Well, it finally happened,” Five sighed. “That gorilla DNA has finally taken over your mind-”

“Hey, watch it, alright? Jack’s a good friend-”

“And you’re Number One. Numero Uno. Remember?”

Luther clenched his jaw and shook his head. “There is no Number One. Not anymore. Not in 1963,” When Five stared at him in disbelief, Luther sighed again. “Look, I’ve been stranded here alone for a year. What did you expect?”

Five scoffed. “I get it, alright? You watched Pogo die, the world exploded, and I marooned your big dumb ass in time. I’m sorry, okay? But I’m asking for your help, Luther. The Umbrella Academy needs you.”

“It doesn’t need me,” He slowly spoke to draw out his words. “It never did.”

“Luther, honey,” The waitress from earlier approached the two. “Jack’s about to lose it on some half-wit. A little help?”

“Ah, shit,” He groaned and began walking away. When Five tried yet again to stop him, he whirled on him, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Listen. You’re the genius who said we should jump, right? You’re the one who got us stuck here. And you’re the one who brought Vanya. So, if there is a doomsday coming, she’s probably the cause. And if I was gonna do something about it, it sure as hell is not gonna be with you. That’s (Y/N)’s job, being dragged around into your messes-”

“I don’t drag her into anything.” Five swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah? Well, she wasn’t stuck as a thirteen-year-old and constantly worrying about her kids until you showed up. I’m surprised she isn’t sick of you yet.” And with that, he stomped away to his boss. This time, Five let him go, his words sending a pang through his chest as he thought back on it. Grabbing his drink, he sighed and shook his head.

“Dad should’ve left him on the moon…” He muttered, taking a sip of his drink before moving to leave his seat. When he felt his jacket snag on something, he looked down to see an object in his pocket. Taking out the tape, he frowned and turned it over.

Date: 11/22/63

Subject: FRANKEL FOOTAGE

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

This world was unfamiliar to (Y/N). She knew she had to have been somewhere in America, but she didn’t know where. The cars, fashion and stores bringing the street she walked to life told her she had to have been in the sixties. But she didn’t want to believe it. Surely Five hadn’t time travelled that far? She had to have been dropped during some type of sixties-theme festival. But the voices suddenly beside her quickly prove her doubts wrong.

“What do we have here?”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a lost little colored girl.”

Tensing, (Y/N) continued her way down the sidewalk, slightly speeding up her pace, but the men fell into step beside her with ease, flanking her sides.

“You’re on the wrong side of town, girl.”

“Yeah, we don’t like coons around here.” One of them hissed right in her ear. Her eyes welled up with tears before the other shoved her forward.

“Gon now, get!” He ordered as if she were a dog. She realized that’s how they had seen her. An animal. Nothing more. Tripping on a crack in the sidewalk, she fell to the ground, smacking her face on the concrete. She choked out a sob as the two men cackled. And to make matters even worse, she felt the pitter patter of raindrops start to freeze her skin.

(Y/N) gasped out in shock when the men spit two wads of saliva in her face. She knew she must’ve looked a mess with spit and tears sliding down her cheeks and blood oozing from her nose. She hiccupped on her sobs and began to stand, much too tired from her previous fight with Vanya and literally being dropped from the sky to successfully do so. The men backed her up against a wall and one fisted the front of her vest before a voice called out.

“Take your hands off of my child!” Whipping around, the men were half expecting to find another target, but (Y/N) coughed and sputtered nonsense upon the person her gaze fell upon.

“M-Mom…?”

Before her was Grace, but… she wasn’t robotic in any sense. She could tell by the raw anger etched into her features. She took a brave step forward. “I said. Take your hands. Off my child.”

And that was another thing: her accent. (Y/N) was immediately comforted by the stern southern accent the woman shared with her attackers. It was a voice she never thought she needed. The two looked between Grace and (Y/N) with smirks. “You mean this lil ol’ jigaboo-”

“Is my daughter. Now you let her go before I call the police.”

“Woman, I don’t care if you call the police-”

Grace took it upon herself to step closer and grab the child by her arms, yanking her into her warm embrace. (Y/N) immediately latched onto her, quivering in her hold. The men scoffed and shook their heads, beginning to walk away. “Make sure to keep that thing on a leash if you’re gonna have it out, ma’am.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She growled before turning and walking back in the direction the girl came from. As they walked past the alleyway, Grace took out a handkerchief and began wiping the girl’s face clean of what the raindrops hadn’t already washed away. “It’s alright, hun, they aren’t gonna hurt you anymore.”

“T-Thank you.” (Y/N) sobbed and gently held her nose in pain. Grace crouched in front of her and gently held her face in between her hands.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’, it’s how everyone should be treatin’ you ‘round here… Where are your parents? I could take you to ‘em.”

(Y/N) thought for a long moment, watching as the rain soaked Grace’s hair and clothing. The woman didn’t seem to mind as she watched the girl before her swallowing thickly. (Y/N) skimmed over her current choices. She didn’t have any choice.

“I don’t have parents. I-I don’t remember them…”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“I’m tellin’ you, Reggie, she’s highly intelligent for a child her age.” Grace proudly presented (Y/N) to the man she had grown fond of over their time working together. (Y/N), however, was frozen in her spot. Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The man whose death she had wished upon for years, whose death had finally graced her existence, was back in her life. She flinched at the disapproving look on his face, much too acquainted with it by this point in her life. “And she’s very respectful. Talented, too, this girl can speak several languages.”

“You seem rather fond of this child.” The man observed as Grace squeezed her into her side.

“She’s my pride and joy.”

“And you cannot remember anything of your past, child?”

“N-No,” (Y/N) shook her head and stared down. “Not a lot. J-Just my name and birthday.”

Reginald hummed and stared her down with an unreadable expression. When she met his eyes again, he was crouched down to her level, his monocle clutched in his fist. “(Y/N), was it?”

“Yes.”

“It would be an honor to have your presence within my home, along with your mother.”

“O-Oh, that’s okay-”

“I insist. Besides, you have been living with her for almost half a year, correct? It is highly unlikely that she will share a home without you.”

“He’s right about that, hun,” (Y/N) glanced up at Grace, who was smiling warmly at her. “I’m not leavin’ you.”

(Y/N) could have cried.

And she did.

One year later, (Y/N) had been living quite the comfortable life with Grace and Reginald. She had been introduced to the ape, Pogo, for the second time since Grace first started working with him. As much as she loved being around the chimp, it brought back so many memories. She almost felt silly, looking after him sometimes knowing he had done the same for her in the original timeline.

Her relationship with Reginald was nothing she ever expected. He was gentle, well as gentle as Reginald Hargreeves could get, he cared for her, spoiled her, even. She wouldn’t have to ask for anything half the time. If he were to overhear a conversation between her and Grace about a dress she oh-so wanted, it would suddenly be laid out on her bed the next day. She usually had a say in dinner meals every Thursday and Sunday and Reginald listened intently whenever she would voice any discomfort or concerns with her living conditions. (Y/N) never had a real father, but she assumed this is what it was like to have one. She never wanted to let go of it.

For her birthday in 1963, she was surprised that he had actually gotten her a present. As she entered the parlor, she was met with the tiniest bark and an even tinier golden retriever, bounding up to her. She gasped and stopped low, letting him jump into her arms. She let him lick her face and giggled in the joy it brought her.

“Your mother said you would like it. Though I would never allow dogs in my house, I have come to understand that there are rules I must bend for you, my child.”

(Y/N) turned to her father. Yes, father. Reginald, also growing quite fond of their father-daughter bond formed between them, decided to adopt the girl. As much as his beliefs and his deep distaste for children protested. There was just something about this child. Or perhaps it was Grace’s insisting, reassuring him that he would make a wonderful father. (Y/N) was very hesitant at first for her own reasons she never shared, but eventually came around to the idea of being his daughter again.

This was the same Reginald Hargreeves who locked her in a dark room for five days straight, but also an entirely different man. Perhaps it was her fascination with the differences, or maybe she just wanted a real father for once.

“Thank you, Dad.” She softly smiled, the man nodding in response.

“But this is your pet, (Y/N). It is your responsibility. I will not find it in my study, in my bedroom, you are to train it yourself-”

“Can you-”

“And no, I will not help you pick out its name.”

The girl softly groaned and looked back down at her new puppy. Looking into its eyes, she smiled softly at a distant memory as a small child.

“Welcome to the family, Mr Pennycrumb.”

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

(Y/N) groaned when she felt the sunbeams of the early morning sunrise hit her eyelids, coloring her black vision with the stinging fire of orange. Rolling onto her other side, she stretched her blanket over her head. They were yanked away the next second, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Mom… Five more minutes.”

“I let you sleep in long enough, hun, it’s time to get up. You have a date with Preston this afternoon.” Grace gently pulled her daughter to sit up, giggling quietly at her look of disgust.

“Preston? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, let’s get goin’.” Grace patted her leg and walked to her door, waiting patiently. (Y/N) sighed and rubbed her face, letting her feet slide into her slippers. As they descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, Reginald could hear his daughter’s sleepy complaining from his place at the table.

Setting his utensils down, he turned his head in their direction. “My child, how many times throughout each week must we have to repeat this conversation?”

“Until it starts making sense.” (Y/N) stepped into the dining room, now in her robe, and crossed her arms over her chest. Reginald sighed and stood from his chair at the table.

“You are one of my greatest accomplishments,” He began towards her. “There is no doubt in my mind that you would make a fine successor. I do not believe you will need a husband. In fact, you would be better off without another individual holding you back from what you are truly capable of.”

“But?” She raised a brow.

“But… I have grown to know you more than I expected… and I know that you would need someone to help manage your finances you inherit once I am gone. Preston is a fine young man who was born into this life, made into this life. He will take good care of you.”

(Y/N) knew there was only one person in this world who would truly take good care of her. But he wasn’t here, and she needed to play the part as the amnesiac adopted daughter, so she huffed and nodded. “Fine… I’ll go…”

“Thank you-”

“But only if Mr Pennycrumb can go, too.”

“Very well, but you will not be gifted another animal if you lose it.”

The outing wasn’t entirely bad. (Y/N) didn’t mind the picnic or the art museum, it was the company that made her blood boil. Preston is anything she would have expected out of him. This had been their seventh date, tenth of the ones he planned. (Y/N) sought out any opportunity she could to cancel on him to save herself from the unbearable three hours she would have to spend with the kid. He was arrogant, smug, selfish, narcissistic, and overbearing. Of course, this was not the Preston he presented to her parents. No, to them, Preston was ‘a fine man with a bright future ahead of him’, or as Grace would put it, ‘a delight to have around’. He laughed like a drunk, talked like a husband, and smelled like a man. All at the age of fifteen. (Y/N) had to remind herself on several occasions that she was mentally the older out of the two and to not stoop to his level when he got under her skin.

“Don’t you think, (Y/N)?” The voice brought her attention back to the boy beside her. She looked up from the grass they had been strolling through. When she hummed in question, he amusedly scoffed and side-step closer to her. “Never mind. I should have known you wouldn’t have been interested in politics.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The girl raised a brow. At her confusion, he laughed and gently tapped the side of his head.

“You’ve always got that head of yours in the clouds. Or turned behind you- like right now.”

(Y/N) turned her head away from where she had been looking over her shoulder. “What? Sorry, Preston, I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“With what, exactly? You don’t seem to be the type of girl to have very many issues. Nothing to worry about.”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” She sighed as her puppy ran in between her legs, rolling in the grass once he was a few paces in front of them. Preston frowned in distaste and shook his head.

“You should really keep that thing on a leash, sweetheart.”

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she folded her hands behind her back. “Really now?”

“Really. You know, I’m not very fond of dogs, so I’m not sure how it’ll work out once we’re married. I think we should get one after we have kids, you know? Just so the kids could grow up with it.”

(Y/N) quickly turned her head to the left, pointing out across the street. “Preston, would you look at that?”

“Look at what?” He gullibly looked in the direction, (Y/N) quickly checking the area before almost silently singing her tune. From her shadow, her clone formed and robotically walked behind the two. She quickly switched spots with it and ordered the clone to walk with Preston before scooping her puppy into her arms and rushing off in the opposite direction. Once she was behind a diner far away from their date location, she let out a sigh and gently patted her dog on the head.

“Were you sick of it, too?” She chuckled. Resting the back of her head against the brick wall she leaned on, she let out a slow breath and began to relax. The sound of guns cocking had her head snapping up so fast, she swore she could have dislocated it. Just down the end of the line of stores were three white-haired men, one in a milkman uniform, training their guns on her. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second tucking her dog in front of her and spinning around, charging down the opposite direction as bullets whizzed past her. She dodged them the best she could, jumping a few feet in the air at the ones that threatened to take their place in her feet. It was like a dance; the twisting, spinning and jumping, and she was to perform this dance until one of those bullets killed her if she didn’t find a way out soon. Sliding to the side of a clothing store for cover, she gently shushed her pet as she caught her breath.

The three sets of footsteps eventually found their destination and rounded the corner with skilled quickness, shooting at the girl until she was nothing more than a bloodied corpse on the ground, bullet holes lodged in almost every inch of her body. The three men nodded to each other and turned around, making their way out from behind the stores.

(Y/N) had already been down the street from her house by the time her attackers found the clone in her place. She couldn’t have been bothered to check herself for any wounds, too worried about Mr Pennycrumb’s potential bullet wounds. But the pup was perfectly, happily nuzzling into her arms and wagging his tail. This left (Y/N) to ponder.

Who the hell were those men?

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

“Is it on?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? There’s an ‘on’ button. Just- There’s something over- that jigga-ma-thing, whatever.”

“I hit the jigga-ma-thing!”

“Okay, well, just- Give it to me. I know how to do this.”

“Alright, here, here. Hurry up.”

“Okay, alright, let’s see…”

Lila didn’t look up from her task of painting poor Elliott’s toenails, his bindings he received after threatening the trio with a gun preventing him from moving too much. Which was beneficial to her, as it kept her from ruining the paint job. She softly smiled as she listened to the argument between the elderly couple on the film Five and Diego were intently watching. “They’re so cute,” She commented. “I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.”

Ignoring her, Diego turned to his brother from his seat on Elliott’s counter. “Why are we watching this?”

“Shush.” Five replied, eyes trained on the film before him, searching for any clue to the approaching apocalypse, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah, I… I’m Dan Frankel. And…”

“I’m Edna Frankel.”

“...Edna Frankel. We are in Dallas, Texas, to see the president. Today’s date is November 22, 1963.”

Five nodded as everyone’s attention was brought to the projected screen before them.

“That’s six days from now.” Lila spoke as Elliott thrashed about more against his bindings. Diego sat forward in interest.

“Holy shit. This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?”

“Hazel died to get me this footage,” Five answered. “It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel…?” Diego frowned, remembering the man he spent hours searching for and planning to kill to avenge the death of Eudora Patch.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Lila looked up at the boy.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego asked as Lila turned her head back to the film.

Five shrugged. “Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.”

“This is very exciting.” The old man smiled before the sound of gunshots and screaming could be heard, the camera moving around in blurs due to the shock of the old woman filming.

“Oh, my god!”

“Oswald…” Diego whispered, setting his knife down as Five leaned in closer.

“The president!”

When the camera was steadied to record across the street, Five and Diego both stiffened in their spots at what their eyes caught. “Oh, no…” Five breathed and moved behind the projector, rewinding the film and scooting the cart backwards to zoom in closer. The room was silent as Diego stood to his feet and Five rounded the cart before standing beside his brother, directly in front of the film. “This can’t be…”

“Okay, you gonna fill me in now, boys?” Lila glanced between the two. “What the hell is this shit we’re watching?”

But she was ignored yet again.

“No, that’s impossible…”

“Clearly, it’s not.”

“What… What is it?” Elliott muffled past the gag in his mouth.

A beat of silence went by before the two Hargreeves whispered in unison,

“Dad.”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @isawachickeninatree

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua x reader #tua fanfic #tua five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #number five x reader #five x reader #of starlight #and dusk

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 3

Main Masterlist

|Part 1|Part 2|Part 4|

     You were lying down, staring at the ceiling that was covered with glow in the dark stars. The only sound was the faint tick-tock of the clock that sat on your nightstand. 

     The duvet covered you, but you still felt cold. The heat was on but you still felt cold. 

     Your eyes burned with tears that were threatening to spill past your waterline and you didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that you were forced to spend yet another day without your mom. Maybe it was the fact that Tony had left you in this tower all by yourself. Maybe it was the fact that you just didn’t feel good enough for anyone anymore. 

     “You don’t hate me, right M.I.A?”

     It was such a broken statement; asking an A.I who doesn’t have emotions. 

     You always imagined being so much farther than this in life and sharing all those accomplishments with your mom. But here you were, trying to gain reassurance from a robot. 

     “I could never hate you, miss.”

     The tears started flowing and you didn’t even care anymore. You were sick of trying to be enough for your father; it’s not like he even looked in your direction long enough to know you were there and not a figment of imagination.

     It was silent for a moment before a ping sounded through the room. 

     “One message from Michelle Jones.”

     You began chatting with the young girl about a month after the Battle of New York. Your mind was in a haze at the time and you weren’t fully aware of your actions until you heard her voice over the phone. The two of you became quick friends even if Michelle refused to admit it. Besides M.I.A, she was the only one you were constantly talking to. But the more you thought about it, it was sad to think that one of your friends was technically a robot.

     MJ was always giving you a chance to rant to her about whatever you needed to. One day it would be about your asshole of a father, the next day it would be about a stupid, cringy, cliché hallmark movie and how they made the women so dependent on men--it really just depended on the day. 

     You sluggishly got out of the bed; the only thing that was giving you even a semblance of comfort at the moment. Picking up your phone, you read the text that read, ‘ft????’. You replied back with a ‘sure’, and waited for your friend’s call. The ringtone sliced through the tense silence that was in the room.

     “Hey, what’s--why is it so dark in there?”

     You gave a non-committal hum and slid back under the covers. 

     “You good?”

     You let out a small sigh and asked your AI to activate and dim the lights. 

     “Just...pissed off and upset at the world--well more so Tony. Like I lose a parent, move in with the other only for him to throw me to the side like I’m some piece of garbage that should’ve been recycled. I’m here all by myself during the holidays--a time you’re supposed to be with family. I mean I’m always alone here, but I just thought it’d be different with Pepper here and how much she tries to doctor his life. But turns out, she ain’t shit either. I don’t even know why I got my hopes up in the first place,” you chuckled bitterly. 

     Letting out a deep breath, you turned towards where you left your phone standing and looked at MJ. 

      “I’m sorry for dumping all this on you. You don’t need that.” 

     Her eyebrows were furrowed and your mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. You took the silence as her contemplating how to tell you, you were just too much to be friends with. You were getting nervous that you were about to lose the best thing that’s happened to you since your mother died. 

     “Come over.”

     “I--what?” you spluttered. 

     “Come over,” she said adamantly. “It’s obvious that you’re lonely over there. I’m pretty sure my parents won’t mind.”

     “Why?”

     Michelle let out a sigh and you saw her eyes begin to wander across her room. “Because, as much as I don’t want to say it, I’ve grown to tolerate you.”

     For the first time in more than four months, you smiled.

-

     When you arrived at your friend’s apartment, she immediately pulled you into her room. The two of you spent the night into early morning watching any cringy movie you came across and started to critique it. 

     In the morning once her mom came to wake the two of you up, she found you on the beanbags in the corner of the room, snuggled up under one blanket. 

-

     After a week stay at the Jones household, you decided it was time to go home--if you could even call it that. You felt like you were overstaying your welcome regardless of what MJ and her parents told you. 

     You made your way back to the tower after a long morning in the library. You knew it was dangerous to travel alone, but would anyone care or even notice you were gone.

     The elevators opened with a ding and you were greeted with the sight of Tony and Pepper on the couch. You weren’t even supposed to be on this floor, so why in the world did it stop here? They immediately paused whatever conversation they were having and stared at you while you were trying to get the elevator to close and go to the floor you wanted. 

     “Young lady, where have you been?”

     Oh so he actually knew you existed. What a shocker. 

     “Out.” 

     You continued to press the button harder as if that would help it close. You knew that he probably overrode FRIDAY to prevent you from moving but you really needed to get some emotions out and the closest victim happened to be that button. Pepper was watching the whole thing go down and you could tell she was trying to find a good moment to input. 

     “Hey, you don’t need to use that tone with me.”

     You let out a sharp sigh and finally stopped smashing the elevator walls.

     “If you really wanna know,” you began, walking towards the kitchen counter. You set your backpack down and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. “I was spending some time with a friend because I was left here alone.” You took a sip of water before setting it down. “Again.”

     The strawberry blonde had a solemn look on her face and was staring at her lap as if she was ashamed. 

    “I’m sorry sweetheart. We didn’t mean to do that.” 

     You let out an unconvincing hum and grabbed your things before heading back to the metal box. 

     “Hey, we’re not done talking here.” 

     You rolled your eyes at Tony before grabbing your phone out of your pocket. 

     “Yeah, well,” you clicked a few things and the elevator began to close. “I am. Bye dad.”

-

     Dad.

     You used to long to say that word. 

     ‘Dad can we go get ice cream?’

     ‘Daddy, I passed my math test!’

     ‘Can we go to the dance, Dad?’

     Millions of scenarios would always pass through your head, wondering if life would be different if he was in your life from the beginning. All the embarrassment and teasing you went through for not being able to go to a daddy daughter dance. All the times you wished for a piggy back ride whenever your feet were tired after a long day at the park. 

     Every time you asked where your father was, a part of you would lose hope until that hope was just gone. You no longer asked about him, figuring that he was just nobody that would ever have to be concerned with. He didn’t want to be involved in your life, so you wouldn’t let him invade your mind. 

     But then she was just gone. Gone. Your whole life taken away from you in a snap. And there was nothing you could do except sit back and watch it all unfold. 

     When you came here, you hoped he would be there just like you hoped for your mother to get better. But as time went on, you realized hope was for babies. To you, having hope was as useless as a remote without batteries. It was as useless as a bag with holes. It was as useless as shoes without soles. From then on, you vowed to no longer hope as it would only cause pain. Why hope for something only to be disappointed in the end?

     So as you were lying on the soft mattress only some could dream of having, under the blankets that were as soft as a sheep, you thought about hope. How hope shattered dreams and hearts. And how shattered dreams and hearts led to silent sobs and tears that would shed in the privacy of your room while the soft glow of the tv was the only light you saw.

#nothing for me miniseries #tony stark #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x reader #teen!reader #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #michelle jones x fem!reader #avengers x black!reader #black!reader

[goineedsleep]

this is just as bad, if not worse, than my previous idea

-olberic is a soldier of... what do i call it... goshdang it i'm just calling it atlasrule, and he does it really well

-erhardt and he are excellent at it, but they prefer sticking to one area: olberics hometown of... i'm calling it hornburgia(that's an awful name, i know)

-they're called to the capital for a meeting, and they aren't very happy about it but they accept anyways

-olberic just wants to pet his cat, goddamnit

-and they go there to complete mayhem

-nobles are out on the streets, screeching about how their rivals are dirty liars! That they never betrayed the capital, and that everyone who claims so is a "dirty fool who hasn't seen money once before in their lives"!

-olberic and erhardt: -_-

-they head towards the meeting location and are yelled at by those people. it's one hell of a saturday

-they ask the guard captain what in the name of jesus christ is going on -he heard that a group of nobles conspired against prince cyrus after he came out of the closet, and they didn't manage to take him out. -olberic and erhardt, bisexual disaster besties they are, are like "...well they had it comin" and move on to what they're needed for

-they need to be the bodyguards for prince cyrus because he's being attacked

-erhardt declines because he wants to protect hornburgia. olberic accepts because he can

-and so he meets the prince of atlasrule. and happens to get along with him very well

-they accidentally match clothes one day and the king just stared at them like

-and over the course of a month they start crushin HARD

-it's a problem for no one but the kings advisor, werner

-he's constantly reminding the prince that he needs to focus on his studies, no matter what emotions he may face

-olberic literally has to carry cyrus out bridal style from the library a few times a week, which allows the maids of the house to flip the hell out every time he has to ensure cyrus doesn't sleep on a desk

-the things he does for his crush, am i right?

-then olberic finds out that the attack on cyrus for coming out of the closet was orchestrated by a person still in the castles service, and rightfully freaks the fork out

-he alerts cyrus, and tells him to keep it a secret. they need to know who it is before exacting their revenge on this perpetrator

-cyrus lets werner know about this mysterious perpetrator, having trusted him for years

-cyrus is kidnapped the following week

-olberic starts investigating like. all the time -even on weekends

-boi is stressed as hell, and is out of a job

-he follows the advice of cyrus to go ahead and look for the master sword

-he goes to the water kingdom for their key to the sword first -alfyn, an amateur doctor, shows olberic where to find the key: inside the stomach of their queen, who has been incredibly unwell for the past few months -he's analyzed the causes again and again, and can find only one cure: an herb only found in Bolderfall, where the Gorons live -olberic agrees to go there- there's another key to the sword in the region anyways

-they get to Bolderfall, and things are in a royal mess -the people there are sick too, but from a completely different ailment -alfyn's able to treat it, and he goes around helping people all day -he's incredibly tired, and olberic pays for his inn stay for once

-the next day, they wake up to alfyns bag being stolen -olberic and alfyn track down the thief, who is attempting to treat some of their accomplices -alfyn properly takes care of these individuals, and questions the thief as to why he stole the bag -thief was trying to take care of these people, since no one's even bothering with their own family and there's no apothecary that'd dare take care of the low income portions of the city -alfyn insists otherwise and makes conversation with the guy while olberic gets his first key

-the next day, they head back to clearzoras domain, with the thief named therion in tow -he's tagging along because he wants to, he claims. they don't want to push their luck, so they aren't prying -they save the queen in the brink of time, so she regurgitates the key and olberic's off to find the last one -alfyn and therion accompany him- alfyn to travel the world and help more people out, therion for undisclosed reasons -on their way to the forest, they encounter primrose -she travels with the rest of the group because she is heading that way anyways

-the third area is not in trouble until primrose stabs someone and werner chooses violence at the same time -one of his underlings, a naive fool called darius, lead the charge of an assault on the entirety of atlasrule -werner's attempting to take over the kingdom after imprisoning both the king and his son -they're to be killed once werners conquest is done and over with -therion interrupts darius's monologue with a very violent kick to the nuts -and then therion wins in combat against a darius on a horse -olberic grabs the third key with the assistance of a huntress known as h'aanit in the middle of the commotion

-therion explains that darius was an old friend, and he heard from rumors that he can not only kick him in the nuts, but also destroy everything he's ever worked for. after what he's done to therion, it's only fair at this point -alfyn and co. learn about therions trauma and alfyn becomes a lot more protective over therion -it makes olberic chuckle a little bit- reminds him of his own crush on cyrus

-primrose describes her own dilemma with avenging her father, and is now accompanied by haanit wherever she goes -she doesn't mind it, either

-olberic unlocks the master sword, and now the group can challenge werner and tressa, the spirit of the sword, is constantly talking to olberic in his head -he wants this to be over ASAP- he is terrified for cyrus's life -he and the rest of the group storm through the castle, fight redeye, cassandra(is that tressa ch4 boss or is my brain f-cking with me), simeon, lucia... all those fellas, and then they fudge werner up -it all goes off without a hitch- cyrus is freed from his prison cell and fights with the rest of them as well -fudging werner up is a successful mission

-following the events of this, olberic and cyrus get together -they get married in the far, far future, but they do start dating after werners insurrection -they get the countries shit back together, and say gay and trans rights -a few months after the insurrection alfion occurs

and yeah this is something i wrote impulsively

i couldn't even be funny with erhardt going to femboy hooters. this is truly humorless

i am going to bed now tho, so enjoy it i guess

#octopath traveler #cyrus albright #olberic eisenberg #olberus #alfyn greengrass #therion #alfion #primrose azelhart #h'aanit #tressa colzione #legend of zelda au

[vivvyinvienna]

the night we met (draco malfoy)

A/N: heyo! this is my first fic so pls be nice :) i hope you guys enjoy it! xoxo 

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Draco is haunted by the memories of his dead lover. Post-Battle of Hogwarts. Inspired by the Lord Huron song “The Night We Met.”

Warnings: alcohol, cursing, depression, angst, violence, blood, major character death

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

  Draco languidly twirled the glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He watched as the amber liquid clung desperately to the sides before unfailingly slipping back. His drunken mind and hazy thoughts found amusement in it. They found amusement in a lot of things now. Like how he sat in front of the fireplace in a grand leather chair downing firewhiskey by the bottle every night; being every bit of the rich, spoiled Malfoy heir he was. Y/N would have told him that he was trying too hard to mourn in an aesthetic. And she would have been right. 

The thought of her lifted him from his reverie. The glass of liquor stopped turning in his hand, instead it was brought to his lips, quickly downed in hopes of expelling her from his mind. In hopes of keeping out all the feelings that came alongside memories of her. It was why he drank in the first place, why he sat drunk and unrefined with his hair messed, shirt untucked, and suit rumpled.

But it didn’t work. It never really worked. Not even the strongest liquor from his father’s collection could rid his mind of her. Her lips, her touch, her soft breath on his shoulder from their last embrace was all tattooed on his soul. He didn’t really mind those. But it was the memories of her death, watching her body crumble and blood pour from her wounds, that made him want to obliviate himself. They stained his mind, weakened his body and ate at his soul. 

After losing her at the Battle of Hogwarts, he constantly felt like he was a wandering traveler who’s path had run out. He was riddled with these feelings of guilt, sorrow, longing, and depression. There was always this painful feeling in his chest, like someone had a vice grip around his lungs and heart. While he was with Y/N there was always a nagging feeling that he was in debt to her. She had taught him the invaluable, that he could love and be loved. She had saved him in every manner a person could be saved. The feelings, thoughts, and pain he now faced was unrelenting, incessant, and unforgiving. He supposed it was a method of repaying his debt. 

Looking towards the fireplace that was softly raging, he put down his glass. Chasing away the memories never worked, he didn’t know why he bothered trying every night. And with that, he resigned to his thoughts of her.

 I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

  Draco was laying on her bed in her Hufflepuff dorm. The windows facing the rolling hills were drawn up, letting in the warm glow of sunset. It bathed the room in this honey tint that made him feel warm and blissful. Laying on his side, he stared at the Y/H/C haired girl at the desk who was intensely focused on her books and notes. 

“Angel?”

Your quill paused and you turned to let your Y/E/C eyes meet his. He thought your eyes were the most beautiful thing, they held the beauty and intensity of a thousand stars in his mind. He found everything beautiful about you really. The way your hair framed your face. Your delicate fingers whenever they entangled with his. The way your rosy lips tilted into a smile when you looked up at him. 

“Yes, Draco?”

You had a slight smile and an extra twinkle in your eye as you answered him because you knew exactly what he was going to ask next. 

As predicted, the blonde boy strewn across your bed softly, adoringly, and a tinge whiningly said, “Come lay with me for a bit.”

Looking back and forth between him and the DADA homework on your desk, you pouted while responding “I still have so much of Umbridge’s work to do though.”

Draco let out a dramatic groan and flipped onto his back before answering, “ You’re killing me, Y/N. What do I need to do to convince you?” 

The truth was Draco didn’t need to do anything to persuade you, you were sick of Umbridge’s busy work. And after feeling his gaze caress you all afternoon, you craved his touch. But you decided to have a bit of fun.

“It’s killed meh. It’s killed meh.” You mocked.

You never let him live down that accident from third year. He covered his eyes and laughed in embarrassment before retaliating, “At least I didn’t get sent to the hospital wing because of a plant. You’re supposed to be good at herbology, badger.”

You feigned offense, “That’s not the point. The point is, I didn’t put on an entire theatrical performance like you felt the need to.” And with that, you started to walk towards the Slytherin boy on your bed. He pulled the covers back for you to join him when he noticed your approach. 

“Ok, ok, fine. Just get in already, I’m getting cold.” 

Once you settled into his arms, he watched as you snuggled deeper into his chest. With your guys legs intertwined and his arms encasing you, his heart felt content and at peace. He had everything he needed and wanted right in his arms. 

You tilted your face up, and while looking adoringly at Draco you whispered,  “I love you, you know?” 

He gave you a soft smile that made the cold ice of his eyes melt. Putting his forehead against yours, he gently nudged your nose with his. 

“I know. And I love you...” he paused, refocusing his gaze into your eyes, “more than anything.”

You smiled as he captured your lips in a kiss.

 I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

 Back in his leather chair in the cold drawing room of the Manor, he barely noticed the silent tears that escaped from his eyes. Tears seemed to be a constant now. The beautiful memories of her angelic voice and soft kisses and honey tints were once things that bewitched him. Now, they only served as an agonizing reminder of what he had lost. He craved, he so utterly craved for her tender caress. He could feel his own desperation causing aches from his chest all the way to his finger tips. What he would give to feel her presence wrapped around him one more time. 

With his head hung forward and his hands tugging at his hair, convulsive yet inaudible sobs wracked his beaten frame. He wanted her back. He wanted to hold her hand as they walked in the garden. He wanted to pepper her face with kisses until she playfully pushed him away. He wanted to hear her gleeful shouts as they rode his broom together. He wanted to meet her again for the first time and relive their time together. Merlin he just wanted her back. 

All he could do now was reminisce of his memories of them together. He was faced with a constant inner battle. Reliving their memories eased the hurt for a little while. But when he came back to his senses and his reality, it brought a raging pain of its own. 

Some nights he couldn’t help himself. He drank until his vision blurred and then walked around the Manor looking for signs of her, to spark memories that he watched like movies. Tonight would be one of those nights he realized after stumbling onto a very specific patio. It was the patio where they met. 

 When the night was full of terrors

And your eyes were filled with tears

When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met

Your family had been invited to the Malfoy Summer Solstice Ball, as were all the other notable pureblood wizarding families. You had your mother’s penchant for fashion, choosing to wear a champagne colored satin gown from one of your favorite designers. You quite enjoyed the dressing up and the excessive extravagance, but it was the company that was pitiful. The lavishly decorated ball room was filled with witches and wizards either trying to produce marriage arrangements or devise business contracts. Despite being freshly 14 and only going into your fourth year at Hogwarts, you were approached with multiple horrendous proposals. 

Sometime during the night after Rowle Sr. suggested your hand for his 22 year old son, you slipped out of the ballroom in search of some quiet. What you found however, was Draco Malfoy on a patio. As awful as his reputation, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. It almost felt sacrilegious being so encaptured by the chisel of his cheekbones and the subtle arch of his brows. But he had the type of beauty that got into your bones and the moonlight only made him more enthralling.

Draco’s gaze settled on you a couple seconds after you had walked in. He recognized you, you were in the same herbology class. He’d never admit it but he always found the way your eyes flicked up from your paper to the person you were talking to, to be so subtly alluring. 

Skipping over a normal greeting, his first word to you was merely, “Hufflepuff.” He had meant for it to be a question, but it came out a bit rougher than he anticipated. At least he hadn’t sneered. 

True to your house’s values, you responded good naturedly, “Yes...and you’re in Slytherin.”

 He nodded, pausing for a second as if contemplating whether to continue the conversation before asking, “Why are you out here?”

“Got tired of talking to old British men.” You answered honestly. “What about you? Why’d you come out here?”

He walked closer to where you were standing. 

“Trying to get away from the witches,” he said as he leaned against the terrace railing. 

You laughed lightly before jokingly asking, “The mothers? Or the girls?” 

“Both,” he fiddled with his cufflinks. “Were the old British men trying to get you to marry their sons?”

“They were. None of them were very convincing though.” 

“I hope my father didn’t try.”

“Would it be so terrible to be married to me?” 

You could see a quick eyebrow raise from him, pleasantly surprised. 

“I’m just concerned that our home decorating styles won’t match.” His voice lacked his usual bite and his face was without his habitual sneer. 

“You know most people don’t choose their life partners based on interior design styles.” 

Your comment elicited an amused huff from the blonde boy. “I wish my mother did, then I wouldn’t have to live in this ghastly manor.”

He was right, filled with antiques and dark artifacts, the manor was downright depressing. “It’s...” you struggled to find a non offensive description. “It has its own charm. You just have to romanticize it a bit.” You were unconvincing.

“This is why the sorting hat put you in Hufflepuff.”

“Better than Slytherin,” you retorted. 

He wanted to laugh, even the idea of you in Slytherin was amusing. “You’d get eaten alive by our first-years.” 

He was right, but that didn’t mean you let up, “Funny. Have you made anyone cry yet today?”

“No, but luckily it’s only 9 o’clock.” 

The two of you talked long into the night. As he listened to your stories, random literary interpretations, and takes on the world he found himself more and more enamored. He was enamored with the little shrug you seemed to always end your rants in. Enamored with your laughs that always came at the right time when he talked. Enamored with the strange feeling in his gut he didn’t quite know how to identify when your hand briefly grazed his thigh. 

Draco found your company to be tantalizingly novel. Sitting on adirondack chairs, sharing nothing but stories with you felt weirdly intimate. It felt like friendship, a word woefully foreign on his tongue. Perhaps it was because he met you in a setting outside of Hogwarts, a place where he didn’t have to puff his chest and wear his Slytherin crown. But for the first time in maybe his entire life, it felt like he made a friend. And it wouldn’t be until later when he realized that Y/N was also the love of his life. 

 I had all and then most of you 

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

Draco sat in the same adirondack chair he had the night he met you, looking at the empty chair to his right. A sullen expression was permanently etched on his face as he ran through the same thought over and over and over. I wish she was here. I wish she was here. I wish she was here. Lost in a trance, he didn’t notice his mother enter the patio until her shoes were in his line of sight. 

Narcissa’s heart ached to see her son this way. So lost and so resigned. Every ounce of spirit and hope seemed to have vanquished as he processed Y/N’s death. She remembered the struggle of tearing him away from her dead body and bringing him back to the manor. 

As the battle was in its final moments, Narcissa knew that her family needed to leave to avoid Azkaban. But Draco hadn’t wanted to leave her yet, he wasn’t ready to let go. Her and Lucius were forced to physically rip them a part. With Lucius holding him down and Narcissa prying her from his grasp. He pleaded and begged and cried and screamed. The raw pain and desperation in his screams as Y/N finally slipped from his grasp was something Narcissa would never forget. Once the three of them were apparated into the manor’s drawing room, Draco had collapsed in her arms choking on sobs and violent words cursing them. He was inconsolable, Narcissa tried. She held him, comforted him, but she knew it wasn’t her arms he needed. There was only one person who could rid his pain, but no amount of money in their Gringotts vault could bring back the dead. 

Back on the patio, she quietly approached him. 

“Draco?” 

He looked up. Behind the sorrow in his eyes there was the slightest bit of resentment. He still hadn’t found it in himself to fully forgive her. It was even worse with his father. He couldn’t look at Lucius without turning breathless with anger. 

“Draco,” she placed a hand gently on his shoulder, “it’s late. We should get you to bed.”

He merely blinked away, looking back at the empty chair instead. Narcissa noticed that he did that often, looking at the empty spaces next to him. Spaces that she was supposed to be in. He did it at the dining table on the rare occasions he’d join her for meals. He did it in the library, riveted by the black couch they frequented. And he did it while laying in his bed, always slightly off center, as if leaving room for someone. 

It took a bit more coaxing from Narcissa to get Draco to his room. After he was settled in his bed, he closed his eyes succumbing to the nightmares that would undoubtedly come. 

 I had all and then most of you 

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

  “Dra...Dray. Dray, ho..hold me. Please.”

He knew the end was nearing, white hot panic flooded him. Blood surrounded you, coating the dirty cement floor and his hands. He lifted you gingerly into his arms, scared to hurt you even more. 

“Ok. Ok. Of course, Angel. I’m right here. I’m right here. You’re gonna be okay, it’s gonna be ok.” He was rambling now.

His hand cupped your cheek, keeping your eyes on him. Rocking back and forth, he looked into your eyes and studied your face. 

“Angel, don’t do this to me. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You brought your hand up, grabbing onto his wrist. You were too weak to respond at that point, you were too far gone. You both knew. But a small smile ghosted your features as you looked at your love. Your love, your love, your love. You kept looking at him as you felt yourself slip farther and farther away. It was just like sleeping.

Draco’s silver hair fell into his face as looked down at the girl in his arms with an ocean between his lashes. He watched as she gave him that last little smile, with his hand still cupping her cheek. First, her hand’s grip loosened on his wrist. Then, her face went expressionless. And too sudden and far too soon, the light in her eyes were gone. 

Y/N Y/L/N was dead. 

A guttural, visceral sob erupted from the silver haired boy. He cried out, cursing the gods above and cursing fate for taking her from him so soon. His screams were strained with an indescribable and insurmountable amount of pain. He clawed at his chest, hoping he could somehow rip out the searing feeling that riddled his shattered heart.  

He pressed his face in to the crook of her neck, sobbing thickly, muttering desperate pleas of help. But it was pitiful and it was nonsense, for death was unforgiving and death was final. Her arms, which once were used to caress and comfort him, now hung limp at her sides. There was a fiery anguish in his chest that was so colossal he could feel it radiate all through his body. Draco clung onto her dead body with as much strength as he could muster, as if sheer willpower could revive her somehow. The blood from her fatal wound covered Draco’s hands and clothes. It was a gruesomely harrowing scene: a forever broken boy clinging to a dead girl. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, kneeling on his knees while clutching his dead lover. The battle raged on around him as he remained in his penitent posture, praying to every deity, God, and powerful being he could think of to bring her back. When he finally found the strength to lift his head from the crook of her neck, the sight of her clouded eyes and paling skin sent another volley of shards into his chest. With an unsteady hand, he shut her eyes.

Draco gently pulled her into his lap, moving with the same amount of attentiveness as if she was still alive. His hands, still trembling, carefully smoothed her hair. He drank her face in more fervently than ever before, for this would be the last time he saw her. This would be the last time he could hold her. His angel, his beautiful angel was dead and soon he would be forced to let her go. He pressed his lips on hers as he’s done a thousand times before, but when her lips remained unmoving and were cold against his, a new set of sobs wracked his body. 

The grieving boy sat in the midst of a battlefield, uncaring that he was defenseless. Draco sat there, silently hoping that someone would take mercy on him. Silently praying that someone would see him wandless and alone, and slay him. He knew this pain was carved into his heart and engraved in his soul. He knew that he would only be relieved of it when death came for him too. 

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met

Dear Y/N,

You’re dead, you won’t ever read this. I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing this. Maybe it’s a plea of help, maybe it’s how I’ll heal. Either way, it makes me feel like I’m talking to you, like I haven’t lost everything. But I’m just deluding myself. 

It hurts to live without you. Time keeps ticking forward, the world moving with it, but all I can think about is when I was last with you. Every night I slip into dreams of you. Sometimes, rarely, they’re good ones. But I wake up and you’re not there. Most nights, I’m watching you bleed and die in my arms. That dream never fails in hurting me. But what really breaks me, is after I drag myself awake, I realize I’m already living my worst fear. You’re already dead. It’s not a nightmare, it’s a memory. 

Everything died with you, Y/N. I thought that once the war was over, my life could truly start. I’d finally be free from that world. I didn’t realize that the end of the war meant the end of us too. Every single plan we made for the future is gone. All my someday’s and one day’s died with you. I no longer have anyone to marry, to have children with, to grow old with. I feel robbed. I was supposed to have a whole life with you, not just a few measly school years. Even a lifetime wouldn’t have been enough for me. I want every lifetime with you, on this earth or the next. 

I’m still holding you tight in my mind, it’s strange you’re not here with me. My heaven was here on earth with you. But ever since you’ve gone, the days have been getting darker and darker. I love you, I miss you. 

Yours Forever,

Draco

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x y/n #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin #angst #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #harry potter imagine #draco angst #draco fluff

[saundraswriting]

Huddling for Warmth

“I decided to join a writing challenge for @bonkywobble‘s hafwayto1K. I did Huddling for Warmth and Cosmogyral. I hope you enjoy! I also have a mutil-fandom blog @saundrasays

SUMMARY: You head to DC with Steve and Bucky and on the way back after an unexpected dip in the Potomac leads to you three huddling for warmth on the Quinjet. 

Masterlist // Ao3

Being a personal assistant to the Avengers was definitely more than you bargained for. You had been hired by Pepper. There were too many Avengers and not enough hands to wrangle them on the busy days or the day to day things. You accepted without hesitation, getting to work right along the Avengers, even if most of your work was tedious and some days felt like you were watching over toddles. You had gotten lucky to be given Captain Steve Rogers and Sargent James “Bucky” Barnes. They were easy to get along with, not very demanding and honestly cared for you. They asked to you go with them to meetings away from the compound and to PR stunts around the world knowing how much you like to travel and learn about the world. The arrangement was better than you could have ever hoped for after graduating college with a business management degree.

“Hey, Y/N. You ready to go? We have that meeting down in Washington today. You wanted to go didn’t you?” Captain Rogers asked knocking on the open frame of your door. You looked up from where you were packing your purse. One thing working and living with the Avengers taught you to be ready for everything.

“Yeah. I am excited. This is the first time I get to be there with the Cherry Blossom festival. I am so excited. I have been trying to go for ages. I am hoping with it being a weekday it won’t be so busy.” You quickly looked around hoping you didn’t forget anything, you patted yourself down to find you phone.

“I am glad that you get to go then. Remember to grab your camera, doll.” Sargent Barnes chimed in from behind Steve. You snapped your fingers beaming and got the top of the line camera that was their most recent Christmas gift to you.

“Thank you, Sargent Barnes. I am ready now.” You grabbed your bag. You looked up at the two super soldiers with a bright grin. You were so happy to be able to be apart of their lives, you were even happier that they got to be part of each other’s lives. The two of them moved against the wall, giving you room to lock your door and say bye to FRIDAY.

“We’re taking the Quinjet today. Well, one of them.” Captain Rogers told you. They let you go before them, shortening their stride to keep just behind you. “I figured that way you would be there as soon as possible. I know it is a little early but I figure that way you would have the whole day to yourself, sweetheart.”

“Oh! That is so nice of you. Thank you so much. We should hurry then.” You picked up your pace. Steve and Bucky shared a smile, letting you get further ahead, the picnic they planned in secret would be a perfect surprise for you too.

Upon arriving at the Triskelion’s airfield, you all got into an elevator. “Sargent Barnes and Captain Rogers, you know where you are going? You will be okay? Do I need to send the meeting points again?” You were fidgeting in place trying to force the professionalism you didn’t feel.

“We are perfectly fine. If we need anything, we can always ask someone here. We want you to go and have fun. We have a surprise planned for you around 1:30. We’ll call you okay? Go take lots of pictures. Enjoy yourself. I know you are dying to, doll.” Sargent Barnes gave you a light shove into the lobby towards the doors.

“Okay. If you are sure. Then I’ll be off. See you later.” You scurried off through the doors, a bubble of excitement practically visible.

“Oh how I wish we were going with her. I would rather do anything than this meeting. Aw, well. The faster we are done, the faster we see her again.” Steve clapped a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “We decided to do this so we can spend the afternoon with her. So let’s get a move on. The two of them stepped back into the elevator to begin their morning of meetings that probably had no application to them, but seeing as they were the only ones free, were forced to go to.

The day dragged as slowly as they believed it would. The only thing that broke up the monotony was the food they were given constantly and the selfies you sent or the social media updates you posted. Ever picture was somehow better than the next, the lighting and angles getting better, your smile bigger. Steve and Bucky could feel their fondness and pride and affection for you grow. You may have stumbled into their lives as their PA but your meant more than that now. You were part of their family.

“Thank you both for coming today. I appreciate it. Having you here is important. I will make sure to send everything of note to you PA later today. See you later.” Maria Hill and several other SHIELD agents left the room.

“Sweet freedom! You go get lunch and I will call Y/N. Find a place to meet.” Steve said. Bucky nodded and they headed over the elevators. Steve went down in one while Bucky went up in another. Steve called you on the way down.

“Hey. I was wondering if you were free to meet for our surprise. Bucky and I got out and are done for the day. I had a place in mind if you were okay with it.” Steve’s voice came across your phone. You grinned at nothing, looking up at the sakura tree you were taking a break under.

“For you, anything. Want to meet at the Triskelion? Or should I meet you at the location? I can do either.” You packed up your meager belongings, leaving you camera out for more pictures.

“I have a spot next to the Potomac. It is near a park and has a great view. How about you meet us here and we will all go together.” Steve suggested. You hummed in agreement turning towards the Triskelion.

When you got there, Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes were waiting patiently by the doors. They both had a basket hanging on their arms. You tilted you head in confusion. “Are-”

“Nope. No questions. Follow us. It isn’t too far away.” Steve and Bucky led the way to a small nature park on the bank of the Potomac. There was a natural depression leading to a very nice dock and scenery. The three of you weren’t the only ones enjoying the warmth of the sun. There were a few other families, but they stayed at tables while Bucky and Steve readied the picnic under a tree near the bank. They set up nice finger foods and warm tea and fruit on plates for all of you to enjoy. You took a few pictures while you all talked about your day, laughing at the two super soldiers uneasiness. The hours passed and just as you were getting ready to suggest a sunset trip back to the cherry blossoms you were interrupted but a mother yelling for her son.

“It’s too cold to swim, sweetie. We can’t go in. We have to wait for the weather to get warmer. You’ll get sick if you-” Her words fell on deaf ears as the child, laughing, jumped off the dock into the river.

“No! Charlie, you can’t swim.” The mother began to run faster but you and Steve and Bucky could see him thrashing in the water, too deep and cold for him to survive long. The mother’s screams were getting more frantic and You could feel the two men freeze next to you.

They already had issues going into water as it was, let alone the freezing water of the Potomac. You scrambled to your feet before quickly stripping your outer layers. “I am gonna get that kid.” You raced off, not even missing a beat before you arced off the dock and swam out to the kid. You could feel the bottom of the river against your toes, not enough to stand firmly. You lift the kid above you, hoping he would stop thrashing and just breath. He did as you hoped calming significantly. You were reading water badly; you could feel it sitting in your lungs and stomach. Taking a deep breath, you tucked one arm under the young boy’s armpit and used the other one to swim back to shore.

You were slower on the return trip then the way out but you were tired. Bucky and Steve met you closer to the beach, you were kneeling trying to catch your breath. Steve picked up the kid and carried him back to his mom. You could just make out their cries of joy and Steve trying to explain the risks of hypothermia and pneumonia. Bucky-seeing as you could barely stand-picked you up and carried you to the blanket. You were shivering but weakly. Not a good sign when it comes to hypothermia.

“We need to get you changed. We’ll let Steve pack up. I’ll take you back to the Triskelion, we can get you some dry clothes at least. Then we can head home, doll.” Bucky said. Steve agreed hearing the trail end of the conversation. Bucky carried you back as he said he would, upon arrival Maria met them at the door.

“I’ll help her get changed. And dried. Then you guys can head home.” Maria took you into a locker room and stripped off your clothes. You weren’t very helpful, cold and tired and lethargic, you couldn’t help her much. She removed all your clothes, muttering under her breath. She redressed you in a tank top and t shirt and jacket, and two pairs of sweat pants and socks. She helped you back to Bucky who was joined by Steve.

“Let’s head back to the jet and then we can worry about getting you warm. You aren’t even shivering.” Bucky swept you up and the three of you got on the elevator.

“Sorry for ruining the day. I wanted to get more pictures too.” You sulked in Bucky’s arms.

“Yeah but you saved a little kid’s life. We were frozen.” Steve said. “Thank you for that, sweetheart.” He headed to the pilot seat, getting the jet up and running. Bucky settled down near you taking off your jacket and his shirt wrapping you up in blankets. You snuggled in cooing at the warmth he was putting off. Steve turned on the auto pilot, sending a message to Natasha to be ready to get you into a bath upon arrival.

“Come on, Steve. Join us. She could use the body heat.” Bucky jerked his head to entice him into your human fort of warmth and comfort. The next few hours were spent cuddling the furnaces that you called friends, shivering and almost biting off your tongue as you slowly heated up.

Steve got up close to the end of the flight to land the jet while Bucky stayed curled around you, listening to the slight rasp in your lungs as you breathed. Once they landed and the ramp came down, the others could only see the top of your and Bucky’s head and a mountain of blankets.

“Only the three of you could come back from a day of meeting and return with a hypothermic personal assistant. Amazing.” Natasha said. “Come on, let me fix it. Again.” The Avengers laughed and Bucky and Steve spluttered trying to explain themselves.

“I had a good time today. Thank you for letting me go along. I enjoyed the picnic too. Now, I am gonna take a shower and go to bed. See you tomorrow.” You clambered out of the nest on the floor of the Quin jet stumbling over to a sympathetic Natasha.

“We did too. Thank you for all your hard work. Tomorrow can you see Bruce for a checkup? We don’t want you getting sick now.” Steve and Bucky waved at you and Natasha from the top of the ramp. You hollered an affirmative as you were escorted away. “Well life certainly isn’t boring with her around.”

“No. and I wouldn’t change it for the world. We should clean up. Maybe we can have a movie night or something.” Steve said.

“Hell yeah. Let’s get a move on.” Bucky cheered.

*******************************************************************************************

Well how was it?

#bonkyshalfwayto1k #saundrasays #saundraswriting #Steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #domestic avengers #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction

[bitchiha]

To Eternal Bliss, I’m so Glad to Know (ModernAU!Hidan x Reader)

The Rats 1k event prompt: Street racer x Hidan

A/N: hey.. aha.. how y'all doing.. hum so i haven't been doing great, I think that is evident through my inactivity on this blog, but that being said i am in a bit of a better place now. i finally have some time to myself and i intend to put that towards my 900 follower event. Enjoy this wonderful piece of modern racer Hidan that strayed into crazy murder himbo I love car man Hidan.

Title inspired by: this song.

MAJOR TWs: smut, harassment (brief, undescriptive), uhm murter, reckless driving, lots of mentions of and contemplations of death. You are a literal accomplice to murter. Reader is confused. But.. It’s not supposed to be gory and dark, I kinda wanted it to just be stupid and reflect a himbo hidan as much as I could. Last like 6 paragraphs aren’t edited.

-

You shouldn’t be in a criminals car, much less in the middle of a police chase and much much less be falling in love with him.

 His silver hair flashes wildly in the occasional flicker of red and blue lights, teeth bared; he was making that face again. That one he had when he first met you, lips curled and canines showing. It looked like he was in pain. It was just because he was actually trying to use his brain, you think. He grips the wheel tightly, the whites of his pale knuckles glowing as he swerves onto one of the busiest city streets you know. 

Barely avoiding a collision with a distinct yellow blur you could barely classify as a taxi, he continued to speed through the lanes, horns blaring and merging into the sound of the wailing sirens quickly approaching. Another sharp turn onto a slightly less busy road had your body slamming against the console, leaning close to Hidan. Your eyes stray from the window and onto his face, unable to hear what he is saying, you make out the movement of his lips:

shit,shit,shiiit 

The tires screeched as he fumbled around with the controls, sending the car into a full 180 and narrowly avoiding a police car sacrificing its auto body in favour of capturing Jashin. That was real close call, just scratching the side of the passenger door, but you wouldn't know; you were still watching your boyfriends features as he speeds off down another dirty alley. 

You were pretty sure that one day you were going to die trapped in Hidans little metal box.. A distant part of you wanted to throw up when you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sure, he was obnoxiously annoying in the most serious of times and incredibly oblivious when you desperately needed him to get a clue. I mean fuck, it felt like despite his adolescent years of elementary and secondary school (which you’re not even sure he attended) his brain only had the capacity to process two things. The first being lewd shit and the second would be the gas pedal... and maybe half a braincell was in there thinking of you, but probably only of you in your panties or something really shallow like that. 

You really shouldn’t love him. 

Barrelling down the alley he randomly slammed the breaks down, the lack of warning sending you flying forward. Bracing yourself to be slammed into the front of car, but just when you thought you were going to break your nose Hidan reversed, sending your body backwards instead. You yelped and he sent you a stupid little apologetic curl of his lip before twisting his body, hand coming to your chair for support as he sped the car backwards through the trash littered street. You didn't understand why he suddenly changed his mind about the direction until a few seconds later when a black and white cop car swerved down the alley in the direction you were back pedalling from. Hidan must have known they were going to try and cut his route off.    

  At the sight of the police vehicle your boyfriend impulsively slammed the breaks, rolling his window down and leaning his head out of it, “Ha, you stupid fucks think you could catch Jashin with some lame shit like that? I could smell that from a mile away!” From your boyfriends childish tone you predicted he was going to blow a raspberry, but the sound of speeding tires approaching quickly stopped him. Sirens blaring, the police car sped its way forward. 

“Oh fuck.” Hidan sped Jashin backwards again. 

  You remembered the first time you met Jashin.

  It was late that night, you were making your long trek home after a disastrous closing shift. You were tired. So fucking tired. You never would have taken that shortcut if you weren’t truly physically drained. As you made your way briskly through that musky trash infested canal, you were stopped by a man who smelled just as intensely as the alley itself. It was so much so that you had thought that perhaps it was the mans smell that was so potent and not the space itself. 

  Defining what the source of that smell was wasn’t important though, not when he was coming straight at you with barred, yellow teeth. You didn't know what to do and to be fair, what the fuck were you supposed to do? He was yelling something, you couldn't hear it over the thrashing of your erratic heartbeat.  Were you going to die? You were so fucking tired. 

Maybe you should run.

  You didn’t though. Didn’t have the energy. So you let the man come face to face with your figure, grabbing at the lapels of your coat and screaming. His breath was unbearable and you thought you were going to pass away just from the smell as opposed to actually being murdered. Although you suppose this could probably qualify for a murder, his breath was most definitely a weapon. But despite his shouts being directly at you, his humid breath spraying across your face as his chest constantly heaved, you couldn't understand what he was saying. 

“Jashin! Jashin is coming!” 

  What the fuck was Jashin? Could you still not hear him? He was probably sick. You were tired. So you continued to let him shake your form. Was he going to kill you or just ask for some money?

  Thats when a beast of sleek red metal swerved down the alley, trampling over peeled open garbage bags and beer bottles, approaching you with each sound of a crinkled can. It was gunning straight towards the man who was backing you up against the wall, he was frothing and screaming at the sight and the next moment the hood of the car slammed into his form. Despite your close proximity to the man, you were left barely unscathed and a little bit disappointed.  

  The scene laid frozen for a good thirty seconds: the man unconscious on the floor, your unsteady breathing and the window of the car rolling down. It inched back to reveal a man about your age - which made him just barely a man - with silver slicked back hair, barred teeth and knitted eyebrows. 

“Shit.” 

  You just stared at him, backpack beginning to slide down your shoulders. He stared back at you, waiting to see what your next move was going to be. You didn’t have one. 

  “...If it makes you feel any better, douchebag deserved it.” The man said a few minutes later, he clearly wasn't expecting the crumpled body on the floor to have tried to seek out help, let alone from a cute girl. He smoothed his hair back. 

   His crappy attempt to seduce you didn't work and nor did his equally crap words of consolation, you were tired. This whole situation was even more tiring. You just wanted to sleep. 

  “I won't tell anyone, if you just drive me home.”

  He clearly wasn't expecting that, you could tell that from the pained look intensifying on his face and his little choked gasp. A few moments later it released like an elastic band snapping and his features set into a smug smirk. A cute girl who wasn’t gonna snitch on him?

  “You’re not going to question the fact that I just hit someone with my car? Is it cause I'm so fucking sex-” 

  You weren’t listening, walking over the heap of a body and around the car into the passenger seat. The contrasting smell of vanilla and cigarettes clouded your senses as you clicked your seatbelt into place - noticing his lack of one in the process.

You hated that your face was burning up as you spoke. “I live a few blocks away.” 

For a while you were sure that this was the first girl Hidan had ever had in his car. It was obvious that he was freaking out, maybe if he didn’t hit people in alleyways and then blamed your silence on the fact that he was so fucking sexy, then maybe he would be able to talk to more.

  He tried to blab to you the whole way to your apartment accidentally making wrong turns to try and extend the length of your stay. He told you about that man in the alley, said something about how he totally fucked him over in some black market shit for auto parts. Said his enemy, - he stressed this word very intensely - Shikamaru probably put him up to it. Nobody messes with Jashin goddamit, I fucking hate that guy. It was a shit justification for murder no doubt, there is never a good reason to hit someone with a car, but you supposed your indifference wasn't any better. 

  You stole a couple glances at him every now and then, when his eyes took a break from darting back and fourth between your thighs, your face and the road. He had a sharp jaw, pretty cheekbones, gelled back hair with small strands escaping every so often - causing him to brush them back when too many tickled his forehead - his lashes were long and his eyes so pretty so in the dim light of the empty city streets. His teeth were straight and sharp canines peeked out whenever he sent you a suggestive smirk.

You also spent an unbelievably long time watching his fingers maneuver the steering wheel, the way his hands flexed with a certain turn. The veins of his forearms travelling underneath his leather jacket pushed up at the elbows, his jeans were all worn out and faded and his shoes looked like they were about to fall apart, it was a big difference in comparison to the well kept state of his handsome car.

  When he finally made it to your complex after running out of roads to take wrong turns down, he looked at you like a lost puppy, rolling the passenger window down to call out to you as you opened the lobby doors. “So I’ll meet you out here tomorrow then? Say, around 9?” 

  You turned to look at him confusedly, inquiring as to why he would be picking you up when you made no reservations to see him again, why would you want to see your accomplice in a murder ever again? But he was already speeding off before you got the chance. 

At least you could finally go to sleep.

The next day he was outside your apartment fifteen past nine, blaring his horn as he maneuvered his upper body to hover out the window of his lovely Jashin. You were nestled on your couch, staring at the blue light of the TV screen in your dark apartment desperately trying to avoid the textbook glowering at you from the coffee table.

‘Cute kitten saved from tree’ was sprawled across the bottom of your television in bold letters as a perky blonde read off the little cue cards in her hand. You’d been watching the news all day, waiting for the red breaking news! To slice across the screen and read out the description of a crippled homeless gambler found dead in an alley, but it never came.

It mad you feel a little angry when you realized his death wasn’t going to be announced and you knew there was no way it hadn’t been discovered yet. Then you sat startled at the realization that you didn’t feel anything towards what happened. That the anger you felt in wanting it to be so desperately displayed on the news was because you hoped you would feel something then.

The sound of Hidans car horn threw you out of your thoughts as you jumped like a frightened cat to the window. Peeling back the curtain you were surprised to see that blood stained blotch on the road with a lavender haired boy peeking out, baring his teeth.

You contemplated staying inside, he didn’t know your apartment number, but you knew that he definitely wouldn’t stop blaring the horn if you didn’t. His hand was undeniably laying flat against the centre of he wheel as he continued to sound out, you heard someone yell for him to fucking shut up. Hidan continued as if he didn’t hear. It kind of flattered you.

You wanted to vomit.

You took the stairs.

It was the beginning of winter when you finally let Hidan fuck you. You were in some parking lot lined with pitch black shops on a Sunday night. Everyone closed early going home to their families, except the two of you of course.

It was odd being with him for this long. One outing turned into another and then another, before you knew it he was picking you up every night at nine -sometimes fifteen minutes passed,- blaring his horn excitedly as he peeked out his car.

He told you it was the perfect place to do donuts, didn’t you want to do donuts? You did. It was the beginning of winter. It was icy. His idea was incredibly fucking stupid. But you agreed because maybe you’d skid on the ice and smash into a store, get crushed by the crumbling debris..

There was little snowflakes hitting the windows of Jashin as you two sat parked in the middle of the deserted lot.

“You ready? Oh you’re gonna love this, babe.”

He grinned as your face heated up at the name, you always got all flustered whenever he said anything like that. It made him feel giddy. His long fingers start Jashin up, moving to clutch the wheel as the car thrums to life.

When he makes the first swerve with his car, he turns his head to watch your body all stiff and frightened. It was funny. He laughed as your face twisted into an even more flustered one - if that was possible. God, you were always such a hard ass at the beginning of the night, but when he dropped you off outside your apartment early into the morning he always made sure to leave you with a little smile on your face. Even now, this early into the night he could see the beginnings of one.

He twisted the wheel again and your body flew to the left, smooshing into the console and the surprised laugh that left your mouth had his guts twisting. He wanted to hear it again. Your walls always fell when he did stupid shit like this. You were kinda fucked up now that he thought about it. Always getting all giggly when you should probably be screaming at him to be more careful for fucks sake! But you never did and he loved that about you. Just as fucked as he was.

“Hey babe, babe! This one’ll be good. Watch, watch.” He gripped the wheel again and grinded his sneaker into the gas, the first skid across asphalt was intentional, but when he tried to regain the reigns of his dark red beast it began to thrash out of his control.

Goddamn ice patch.

The car twisted, screeched and burned into the pavement for a good twenty seconds and when he was sure you should be screaming because I mean come on, that was fucking scary, he heard silence.

As the car came to a complete stop and your body was once again flung against the console, he turned to you. He thinks he was gonna ask if you were okay but he couldn’t remember because the next moment you were grabbing tufts of his gelled hair and sucking his face off.

He loved every second of it. The amount of times he’d tried to get his dick wet with you before was astronomical, but you’d always tell him no and he would pout like a dog. But hey, now you’re shoving your tongue down his throat like a dog so he settled on the idea that good things do come to people who wait.

The reason you decided to do it then was blurry. One moment his car was skidding around the parking lot and you were laughing and thinking of the chance of death and the next second it spat onto your tongue and you realized you didn’t want it anymore.

Like that first time you slid into his car, as you kissed him now you tasted contrasting flavours. Mint and cigarettes. For a moment you thought you were going to pull away, but you felt the sudden need to drink all of it. To somehow understand why you felt like you were burning from the inside.

It was his fault really. Hidan made you feel less tired, if that was a good way to put it. You started looking forward to things after you two met and eventually you actually started to feel a bit more deeply for poor crumpled man in the alley. It felt as if you’re body was being thawed out by this silver haired idiot who was groping for the clasp of your bra underneath your shirt.

So you climbed over the console, fumbling with the side of his chair to pull his seat back as you began to strip off your top in haste. You unbuttoned his jeans and slid down to the space between his leg, choking and drooling all over his cock because when you did you felt all these funny emotions bubbling in your body, you felt alive.

He was a loud mouth when you had his dick down your throat, groaning and saying the dumbest, lewdest shit his sex wired brain could think of. You know how many times he’s thought of this? You feel so good, you feel so good. God this is so good, Jashin probably loves it too... We should fuck on the hood of the car next. Long slender fingers guided your head up and down him as he began to twitch thrust his hips upwards, finally spill into your mouth. Douchebag didn’t let your head go and you felt some of his juices dribble down your tongue.

“Swallow it, swallow it while my dicks still in your mouth... Atta girl, you’re so good. So greedy..”

And you swallowed it all, he hoisted you back onto his lap and pushed your skirt up. He was whispering all this perverted stuff in your ear and your mouth fell open against his neck. Words making you flush fiercely and slowly grind your hips against him. You stopped him when he was beginning to shove your panties down your thighs, though.

For the first time you felt small in comparison to him as you met his eyes. He stopped his movement seeming like he was going to say something too, but you cut him off.

“- Hidan... I’ve never done it before.”

He stares at you all wide eyed before laughing and for a second and you think about getting out of his car and walking home because that’s such a douchebag thing to do, but then he surprises you.

“Me too, I was just about to say.. but I mean it can’t be hard right? Well, I am hard,” he laughed and you found yourself huffing a small giggle at his stupid joke, good mood returning as he continued, “I was just gonna go with what I seen in hentais.” That explained his dirty talk.

It was pretty good for your first time though. Ideally not the best place to have sex, you kept hitting your head and he couldn’t quite get his hips thrusting at a good pace with the confined space, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care because it was Hidan and you think you just might be in love with him.

That’s why you don’t say anything when a few weeks later you see “Shikamaru Nara, infamous street racer found dead in a back alley crash.” flashing across your tv screen.

You don’t comment, just give a little understanding hum when Hidan calls you and tells you he can’t pick you up tonight babe, or for a few nights, Jashin needs some repairs..

It’s why now, as he speeds through the streets recklessly with your bags in the trunk and the sound of sirens ringing in your ears that you feel tears prick your eyes. You wish you could have told him to be more careful, that he shouldn’t have done what he did without planning it. Something, anything.. it’s too late now. But he’s not to blame.

You think it’s your fault, really.

#naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #hidan x reader #hidan #the rats 900 celebration

[giorno-plays-piano]

Playing games Pairing: dark!Sebastian Stan x Reader Warning: yandere, swearing, some non-con implications towards the end. Words: 2069. P.S. JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAVE I DONE I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON I HOPE NO ONE WHO REALLY MET SEBASTIAN GONNA READ THIS ghjdfyjdfds I’m so sorry guys _____________________________________ “I asked for a vanilla latte with extra milk, not caramel cappuccino.”

You rolled your eyes at his irritated remark. You knew Sebastian wasn’t in his best mood this morning and expected him to make your day nastier just because he felt like it.

“Sorry, but I’m sure it was caramel cappuccino. You asked for some cinnamon on the top, remember?”

“No, I didn’t.” He snarled and looked at you, giving a mocha frappe to Jill, his hair artist. “I asked for a vanilla latte. If you suffer from memory loss, you’d better visit your doctor once we get back to US.”

What an asshole. Mary, who was now applying some makeup on Sebastian’s face with her beauty blenders and brushes, bit down on her lip: she had been watching how he treated you for the last 3 weeks, and it was a living nightmare. It was very odd since Sebastian was on good terms with pretty much everyone around, but you were always an exception. Why? Neither Mary nor Jill could tell. There was nothing revolting in the way you behaved around Mr. Stan, simply doing your job as his assistant. You were getting him coffee every morning, buying some personal stuff for him, managing his meetings… but you were more an errand girl, that’s true. It was surprising for most of the other people surrounding you two, but you didn’t object to your tasks. You were furious because of the way Sebastian treated you.

He was mean, unfair, irritating, and rude. You didn’t deserve it.

“Well, my voice recorder tells I got everything right.” You pulled it from the pocket of your below-knee sheath skirt, ready to press the button.

“What the fuck is that?” The man rose to his feet immediately, almost pushing frozen Mary out of his way and stepping towards you. “How many times do I have to tell you? NO. FUCKING. RECORDERS.”

He was ready to snatch it from your hands, yet you were able dodge him right on time, hiding the recorder in your pocket again.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I’ll put it away!” In a second you were behind Jill’s tall figure as if you were a child hiding from a bad-tempered parent, Sebastian watching you with anger in his cold blue eyes. “I’m not going to use it. But it’s still true, you asked for caramel cappuccino.”

“Guess what? I don’t fucking care.” He growled in a low voice. “You’ll go and get me vanilla latte because it’s your goddamn job. And I want my coffee before Jill’s finished with my hair, understood?”

Watching his with clear disdain on your face, you cursed under your breath. It was freaking hot in Prague where Sebastian was filming now and getting out the second time just to run to Starbucks once more would sure ruin both your makeup and a white blouse you had been wearing. Damn it.

“God, why do you have to be such a bastard most of the time?” You snapped at him, visibly shaking with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a closet psycho or what?”

“I’m the one who pays you, honey.” He smiled at you the same way he always did it in front of the camera and you felt sick.

You stormed off the room without having a glance back at his perfect white teeth. Sebastian Stan was the worst person you had ever met, and you were working for him, seeing him every day and listening to his orders as if you were his pet. How did it come to this? Why did he look like the most perfect human being to you six months ago? What made him behave like that to you when in reality it was him who offered you a job?

God, it was all messed up. You did not remember when things got so bad you could yell at each other in a full voice. It was actually surprising, someone like you shouting and swearing at one of the world’s most famous actors, but it was something Sebastian let you do. Like he wanted you to scream at him regardless who surrounded you whether it was his makeup artists, agents, cleaning ladies or anyone else. It was like he got off on it.

True, this job payed well, much better than the one you had before. Moreover, in these 6 months you saw more countries than you did in your entire life, travelling with Sebastian everywhere and meeting tons of new people, many of them being great professionals. It was inspiring; it made you dream of all the things you thought were impossible; it made you curious and gave you a chance to practice your networking skills.

But Sebastian was fucking blowing it. After six months of constant everyday battles filled with rage and pure hatred you had gained weight, 10 pounds to be precise. Now you were having problems to sleep, and you knew it wasn’t the jet lag.

Anyway, you spent the whole day running around the city to buy him this or that. In the evening you were so tired you could barely move your legs while Sebastian was clearly pleased seeing you like that. It probably stroked his enormous ego.

Fuck it. You didn’t deserve a minute of it. You were not going to let him ruin you for fun, just because he could it since he payed you. Why did you spend you precious time trying to please him? Sure, you still considered him one of the best actors on the planet, but the things he did to you were not ok. He wasn’t ok. Maybe he really was a psycho or had some disorder he didn’t want to treat, you had no idea. But you knew it couldn’t continue like that. It was too much.

You spent an hour writing an email and asking to be laid off. It was just a few lines, simple and professional, yet you were constantly adding and then erasing new sentences. You shouldn’t make it personal, you thought to yourself. You doubted you could leave on agreeable terms, but you needed to give it a try. Even if your last argument with Mr. Stan might be the worst of them all, it would be your last one. It was worth it.

Sighing, you decided to take a stroll before going to bed. 15 minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You’d have some fresh air and enjoy the view of Prague’s Powder Gate – you were lucky to stay right in the center of this magnificent old city. You could make some more photos to show your friends once you return back home. It was also nice to just sit on a bench and look at the night sky full of stars.

Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so guilty for leaving Sebastian and your team.

In the end, it took you way more that 15 minutes, but your late-night walk made your thoughts clear and left no regrets about your choice. What was happening between you and Sebastian wasn’t right, and you could do nothing but leave. With so many people wishing to work for him he would get another assistant in a matter of hours, and you would get your life back. Those money you earned would keep you afloat quiet some time even if you wouldn’t be able to get a job right away.

“What is this, Y/N?”

His voice almost made you jump. Sebastian stood up from the chair in the corner of your room once you put on the lights. What the Hell was he doing here so late? How did he open the door? If he needed anything, he could simply give you a call.

Oh. You saw your little black recorder in his hand.

“I told you I won’t use it anymore.” Your jaw clenched.

“I’m not talking about this piece of shit.”

He tossed your recorder on your bed as if he couldn’t care less and moved towards you so fast you had no time to step back.

“What is this pathetic email you wrote?” Sebastian’s handsome face darkened. “Are you not right in the head? You want to leave?”

“Yes, I do. What’s wrong with that?” Your expression hardened. He dared to touch your laptop when you weren’t there. “I thought you’d be glad to know. Today you told me three times I didn’t deserve working for you, correct?”

“You know perfectly well I wasn’t serious.”

“God, I have a hard time telling when you’re serious since all you do is hating me.”

He sent you an icy glare.

“You know I don’t hate you. You just happen to bring the worst in me, dear.”

There he was again. God, were you going to have this argument right now when you were deadly tired? You hoped it could wait till tomorrow, but it was clearly not your luckiest day.

“If you want to blame me again, it’s ok. I’m the worst one. I’m a bad person and a terrible assistant.” You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed again, scratching your forehead. “I get it. What I don’t get is why you aren’t happy I’m leaving.”

“Because I don’t want you to leave. If I really hated you so much, I’d already found another assistant, but I don’t want that.”

“Listen, let’s stop playing our games just for a few minutes.” This conversation made you feel even more exhausted. “We don’t get along. You don’t like me. Why do we torment each other? I don’t even remember the last time we had a regular conversation without shouting and cursing.”

“I’m not playing games with you, dear. You do.” He had already cornered you, his face determined and somewhat unsettling. “What do you want? A raise? More benefits?”

You were ready to yell at him again.

“Did you listen to what I just said? I want to leave. I want to come home and forget about all our horrible fights. I want to have a steady and boring job back in US. Do you understand?”

“NO, I DON’T!” The man screamed at you again, and now you suddenly felt his arms clenching your shoulders painfully and winced from his touch. “I already told you to stop toying with me! After all this shameless flirting and batting your eyes you wanna tell me you’re leaving? Do you think I’m so stupid to believe in this bullshit?”

It took you a few seconds to process his words. What? Flirting? Well, you did consider him handsome and charming, who on Earth didn’t, but you had never pulled anything like that. At first, it was because of your professionalism, and then your relationships escalated so fast you knew that he hated you and you hated him. What Sebastian had been even talking about?

You felt very aware how close he was once you felt his heavy breath on your face. He never did this before.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I want to leave. That’s all.” You tried pushing him back with your hands against his chest. “Please, let me go. I need to… t-to go to the kitchen.”

“You’re going nowhere, dear.” His expression darkened. “Tell me the truth. You don’t want me to treat you like my assistant? I get it, I get it, it’s fine. I can treat you like my girl in front of everyone if that’s what you want.”

“No! I – “

His put his hand on your mouth immediately, leaning in closer.

“It’s ok, I understand. I grew tired of pretending like nothing happens between us, too. You want me to let everyone now? It’s ok. I’ll post our photo on Instagram tomorrow. Is this what you want? Is this what you want?”

You tried to scream, but his grip on you was too strong as if Sebastian was really some kind of super soldier. Desperately trying to wriggle free you only got him to hold you tighter, his soft lips all over your face already wet with tears.

“It’s ok, dear. I got it.” He shushed you, trying to keep your arms together with his hand and pushing his knee in between your legs. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I understand now, so you don’t have to go. You won’t go, will you?”

You couldn’t answer him even if you wanted to.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #dark sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #winter soldier

[ships4you]

the necklace fiasco {sokka}

Requests: hi, can you do a sokka imagine, like a angst to fluff vibe with angry kissing 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Pairing: Sokka x reader

Warnings: Cursing & slight smut

Prompt: Sokka is constantly annoying the reader and one day, they snap. Sokka uses a unique strategy to calm the reader down. Which ends up causing an awkward situation for everybody.

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A HEADCANON. I’m not sure what happened, but I just kept going. So happy reading!

Sokka just really had a way of pushing your buttons.

You had spent all day cleaning up the house in Ba Sing Se you were all staying in while looking for Appa. Meanwhile, Toph and Katara were out training Aang. Sokka had disappeared earlier in the day, per usual.

“Come with me (y/n).” Sokka had begged that morning. “I will another day, our house is filthy though. I need to clean.” you said scrubbing down those mornings dishes. Aang and Katara were always good with their messes, but between Toph and Sokka the house would turn into a rats nest if you let it go for too long. “I’m going to do some training later though, so when you come back we can spar.” Sokka murmured a “yea-yea-yea.” before walking out the door.

“Aaaand, done.” You mumbled to yourself, whipping down the dust from the last countertop. You sighed, laying down on the mat on the floor, deciding to relax for a bit before your friends showed up.

Not even two minutes later Sokka strolled into the house, immediately tossing his satchel on the freshly cleaned floor.

“I’m ba-ack”

“Oh perfect, this will ease my headache.” you said sitting up, eyeing the remains that had fallen out of his bag.

“So, are you planning on making dinner anytime soon?” he leaned against the railing. He proceeded to kick off his shoes, which landed with a soft ‘clunk’. You scoffed now focusing on his discarded muddy shoes, “…Excuse me?”

“Dinner? I thought you would start by now that why I came back.”

You inhaled deeply, pushing the air out harshly from your mouth. “And where exactly did you come back from?”

He jumped up excitedly, “Oooh! I’m glad you asked!” He began rummaging through the bag, throwing its remains to the side as he searched. “Ta-dahhh!!” In his hand he held out a short thin gold necklace with gemstones along the edges.

“A necklace.”

“A necklace!”

“Soooo, what Sokka? Are you planning on wearing it to the Earth Kings ball? How much that thing anyways?!”

He shrugged, “Eh, like three silver pieces. But look!! Isn’t it pretty!!” He held the necklace against his neck, posing for you.

“You spent three silver pieces on a necklace. Sokka. I just made that money from working, two days ago! You can’t be spending everything we’ve been earning willy-nilly! That money was for food… and supplies!! And you just went off and spent it all for a silly necklace!” you fumed, pacing back and forth.

“Yea but-“

“No. No ‘buts’. You disappeared at the crack of dawn to go off and spend all our money, while I was here cleaning ALL DAY. Finally you show back up tossing your shit everywhere, tracking mud in with your shoes, and ask when dinner is going to be ready?! Are you serious?! I am sick and tired of you and your bullshit!”

Sokka set the necklace down, “My bullshit?! No one asked you to clean (y/n)! You could have come into town with me to explore, just like all the other times I asked you, but noooo. Because nothing is allowed to be fun! I was just trying to do something nice for yo-“

“Ohhh I’m sorry my version of FUN doesn’t involve living in filth and spend all of our money.” By now you were standing in front of him. “You do know that we need food to survive, right?!” you seethed, poking his chest with your finger.

“Why does this bother you so much?! You’ve never cared about this sort of stuff before.” He grabbed your wrist pulling it off of him, holding it to your side.

“Well maybe I’m just fed up with you being such a piece of shit all the time.” You lifted you’re free hand to push him away, but he reacted too quickly and grabbed a hold of your other hand.

“(y/n), you need to calm down!”

You struggled against his grip, “No!! You have been pissing me off and I have kept my mouth shut this whole time! I-“

Before you could finish he slammed his lips against yours. You thrashed for a second, fighting against his grip.

The kiss was messy at first, his nose bumping against yours. You attempted to pull away causing him to accidentally suck too hard on your bottom lip. But with his second attempt, you couldn’t help but melt into him. He let go of your wrists and grasped the sides of your face, guiding your face towards his. You clenched his tunic, tugging at the pieces of cloth.

He disconnected his lips from yours, raising his arms up, allowing you to slip his shirt over his head. He pulled you into him, kissing your lips feverishly– hands traveled down your back, cupping your ass and giving it a light squeeze. He pulled apart just long enough to groan, “Bedroom?”

“Yes.”

The two of you ran to the closest room, which happened to be yours, knowing your friends would be home anytime soon. Once the door was latched and shut behind you, he sat back on your bed pulling you towards him to steal another kiss.

“Mmm,” you pulled away, “I’m still furious at you.”

He smirked, “Yea I know.”

“And don’t think for one second-“

“Spirits, stop talking.” he growled and pulled you on top of him to straddle his waist. You spread your hands over his chest as he slid his tongue into your mouth ever so slightly. You tugged at his ponytail, brushing your fingers through his locks as they fell from their restraints. At this point he couldn’t hold back any longer. He completely lost it and began moaning into your mouth.

He slid his face down yours to tilt your chin back with his nose. Immediately latching onto your neck. You could feel the kink from the band in his hair, which you had carelessly tossed to the floor. Testing the waters, you ground your hips down into his. His hands grasped to your sides, encouraging you to continue. A whine escaped his mouth, you could feel his hot breath against your skin as he whimpered just in front of your ear. His hands began sliding underneath your shirt as you rode against him. Feeling his his boner pressing against your-

“We’re homeee!”

The sound of Aang’s voice causing you to jump off his lap, pushing Sokka off to the side.

“Shit, shit, shit.” you said.

Sokka stared you at you, his big cobalt blue eyes wide with shock. His hands held up next to his head as if he had just knocked a child unconscious. His wavy brunette fringe framing his face. How were you supposed to focus with this specimen laid out before you.

“Okay uh, you need to fix…” you glanced downwards, gesturing toward the tent in his pants, “That… And I’ll go talk to them.” you said before running out the door.

Sokka groaned falling back against your bed, hands swiping down his face.

“Hey! How was training?” you strutted from your room, carefully closing the door behind you. Aang enthusiastically told you all the new tricks he had learned that day, not questioning a thing. Katara stood there eyeing her brothers top laying on the floor and your unruly hair.

***

Dinner was a nightmare.

You and Sokka didn’t speak, just quietly finished your food. If none of them noticed earlier, they definitely could tell something was up now. Even Aang was suspicious. After dinner, Sokka left without a word.

“Sooo.” Katara said, “Are we just not going to talk about what happened earlier?”

“What?!” your eyebrows furrowed, “Nothing happened what are you talking about?”

“(y/n) don’t play dumb. I saw where you two were, I could sense it with earthbending.” Toph shuttered.

You stood up quickly, “I need some air.” you said before storming out the front door, pressing your back against its cool surface, burying your face into your hands.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Sokka standing at the base of the steps. Peachy. Just peachy.

“Hi…” you pushed yourself off the door frame, hugging your sides. “Where did you run off to?”

He walked up the steps, offering a small smile. His clothes had wet marks splattered up and down his front. His ‘warriors wolf-tail’ had loosened, causing a few strands to fall from their restraints. You couldn’t help yourself from wondering if would push you away if you were to tuck the stray hairs out of his face.w

“I went to go return the necklace.” he said tossing a bag filled with coins at you. You caught it, opening it up to find a few more copper pieces along with the three silver.

“Oh and I spent an hour tossing fish at the market.” He held his hands up, “Beware. I may smell a little fishy.” He smirked, leaning against the rail behind him.

“…Why?”

He shrugged, “You were right. I can be an ass sometimes. So, basically this is my way of saying I’m sorry. And my way of saying thank you for putting up with my bullshit, I guess.”

You sighed, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have overreacted.”

“Not at all. I definitely needed some sense knocked into me.”

There was a slight pause as he reached up to scratch the back of his head.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “So, I’m sorry you won’t be able to wear your pretty necklace to the ball. I can make one for you if you’d like.” You smile up at him, doing your best at offering a truce.

“Oh right.” he chuckled. “That-” His eyes fixated on yours. He slid his bottom lip beneath his teeth, letting it slowly fall back out. “I uh- I actually got that for you.”

Your mouth fell open ever so slightly, unsure of what to say. “Oh… Why?”

“Honestly, cause I think you’re great. And I don’t know… I saw that necklace in the store and I just knew I wanted you to have it. I thought maybe I would give it to you and tell you how I feel.”

“And how do you feel?” you felt a surge of confidence and stepped towards him.

“I feel…” he looked you up and down, struggling to find the right words.

“Yes?” you urged him on taking another step towards him.

“I feel like I’m crazy about you.”

That was all you needed to hear. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him in. You kissed him, but different from last time. It wasn’t as rushed; you took your time, trying to engrave the memory of his swollen lips against yours. He ended it short by him pulling away.

“Woah-woah-woah wait. So are you still mad at me? Cause I want to make sure we’re good now-“

“Spirits, stop talking.” you teased before pulling him again.

Tag list: @aimee1602 @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​

#sokka #sokka x reader #sokka imagine #atla #atla fanfic #atla imagine #atla x reader #Avatar The Last Airbender #submission