#he went for the pear after that

[sunshinemellow-fic]

im so disgustingly happy lmao

#book man came over and we made cheese and pear pasta #i went to his little band thing on halloween and my friends are calling me band gf (derogatory) #we were taylor swift albums for halloween together lol #every single one of my avoidant bones is screeching but i am!!!! going to therapy and NOT ruining this lmao #my friend got laid off and he brought me a free cookbook his publishing house released to give to her to cheer her up #he asked if he could bring me boba after a long day at work lmao im dry heaving at all the FEELINGS #im not good at accepting kindness but im LEARNING #rambles #book man

[ohcaptains]

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

college! peter parker x fem reader.

18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.

peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.

Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.

As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.

Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.

It was as if he did this purely for himself.

“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.

Peter liked hearing you.

Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.

His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.

The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.

Just…reflecting.

Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.

“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.

Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.

He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.

“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.

He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.

The two bled into each other.

His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.

You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.

Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it. 

“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”

Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.

You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.

You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.

“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”

You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?

Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.

Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”

You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.

He was far too pretty to stay quiet.

The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.

Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.

Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.

He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.

“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.

“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”

Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

#peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm! peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter aprker smut #tasm! peter parker smut #tasm #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker smut

[euphemiaamillais]

playing dangerous pt 1 - coriolanus snow 🎀

coriolanus snow has always wanted the perfect woman. he’s searched high and low, among the likes of heiresses and actresses, and even—though he’d never dare admit it—district girls. he’s given up hope, until he finds you. you’re perfect—innocent, beautiful and obedient. he’s been watching you for months, and one night, he just can’t resist taking you home and making you his.

cw: 18+//kidnapping//mentions of sex//eventual stockholm syndrome//eventual smut

he first caught site of you in the corso, strolling past in your little white dress and matching pillbox hat. his heart caught in his throat—you were the one. perfect, beautiful beyond compare, and as he learned over the coming weeks, completely untouched. he was desperate to make you his.

he had learned where you lived, and so, every morning, he would wait outside your apartment block, and then trail behind you and follow you on your daily chores. you went to the market most mornings, always holding some sort of shopping list, and without fail you purchased yourself a pear, which he watched you devour. his cock hardened as he watched the way your teeth sank into the flesh of the pair, mouth closing around it, and eyes fluttering shut in satisfaction. at night, he’d imagine the way your lips would look around his cock, stroking himself to the thought of you.

a few weeks later, he’d managed to learn your name. you’d met up with a friend, and he’d heard her utter it—your entire name, in fact—and afterwards he’d raced home to find any semblance of information on you. you’d recently graduated from the academy, though had made no notable achievements. he couldn’t remember seeing you in the hall, but you’d been a freshman when he was a senior. he wondered how such beauty could have passed him by.

he learned that your father was a wealthy banker who had made investments in district 4, and that you had not had any relationships of note. he’d found that out from one of your neighbours, who’d seen him looking at you from afar, assuming he was an admirer. this made his heart stir. he had to have you. he had to ruin you, before anybody else could get their filthy hands on you. and so he set out the perfect plan to make you his.

he’d moved into his own apartment, free from the prying eyes of grandma’am and tigris, and was satisfied that it would make a good home for the both of you. he fantasised about coming home from a long, hard day making connections with the well-to-do, to you cooking him dinner. once you’d eaten, you’d see how he needed to be relieved, and get on your knees. complete obedience. that’s what he longed for.

he knew he could only get it from a girl like you. you were so pure and sweet, if he could only teach you the ways of the world, show you how to please him and to know you ought to always obey him.

—

the day he planned to kidnap you was a frigid one, and he worried you wouldn’t make your usual trip to the market. but alas, you did, dressed in a thick coat lined with fur—a sign of your wealth—and a fur hat. you looked so cute, cheeks flushed from the snow that whirled around in the air. he wondered how you’d look when he drove his cock into you that night. he was so fuckin’ hard already, knowing that you were going to be all his.

it was difficult to see through the snow, and you kept shivering as you attempted to continue walking, one hand crooked above your eye to fend off the flakes. you thought you heard the crunching of feet behind you, but when you turned, there was no-one there. you must’ve been imagining it.

you made your way another few blocks, and turned into the alley, down the usual path you took. you’d never been scared to come down here before, after all, you know you way around so well. however, today was different. you heard that sound again, and when you turned around this time, you rammed straight into a tall, blonde haired man. he was so tall, and bore a foreboding smile on his face.

you attempted to back away, taking a few steps back and stumbling, but he caught you before you could land ass first in the snow. you squinted, wondering if you recognised him. there was something oddly familiar about that face; noble, with those piercing blue eyes.

‘i’m sorry,’ you attempt to shake yourself free of his grip, but his hands clamp down on your wrists, and you cry out in pain.

‘hush, quiet sweetheart,’ he gives you a look of warning, and you tremble against him.

‘please, let me go,’ you beg, but he shakes his head with a laugh.

‘i’m afraid i can’t do that, sweetheart,’ he sighs, and you begin to look around, praying that somebody will come past and help you. but nobody does. the alley is completely empty, and there’s little chance that many people will have braved the snow.

‘please,’ tears begin to well in your eyes, stinging your cold cheeks as they roll down, melting the frost on your face.

‘i’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen,’ he loosens his grip on one of your wrists, but he’s still clasped around the other so hard that it would be in vain to attempt to free yourself.

he reaches for something in his back pocket, and pulls out what seems to be a handkerchief. it’s dainty, with a little rose embroidered into the edge. is he giving you something to dry your eyes?

you don’t remember much after that. he grabs the handkerchief and holds it over your mouth and nose—the smell of chemicals is pungent. you remember blinking, trying to force the stars from your vision, and then your legs came away and everything turned to black.

—

you wake in what appears to be a bedroom. it’s beautiful, with black marble walls, a canopy bed and large french doors which lead onto a balcony with a full view of the corso. you attempt to move, but find that one of your wrists is bound to the headboard.

a searing pain comes when you try to pull at the restraint, and you give a cry of disgruntled frustration. where the hell are you? your memory is hazy; you recall making your way to the market, like you do every morning… and it goes from there.

you’re not in your coat either. in fact, you’re only in the slip you wore under your clothes, with the coat and dress neatly folded over a nearby armchair. your heart begins to pound, you’re frantic. has somebody touched you without your knowing?

your bottom lip trembles, and you feel tears welling in your eyes. it’s not long before you’re full-on sobbing, voice ringing out across the room. the doorknob turns, and the blonde-haired man from before comes in. it’s hard to make him out through the tear-induced bleary vision, but you’re certain he was there in the alleyway.

‘what’s wrong?’ he sits down real close to you, hand caressing your face. you snap back reflexively, appalled that he would dare to touch you.

‘where the hell am i!?’ you spit, and drool actually spills from your puffy lips. he swipes it up with his finger, fascinated at the waterworks. he didn’t think you were going to be such a little bitch.

‘you’re fine, sweetheart,’ he presses a kiss to your cheek, and with your free hand, you attempt to swat him away. he grabs your wrist, and restrains you. you can see his muscles flexing under his shirt, and are suddenly aware that if you tried to escape, or disobey him, he’d have just that much power over you. any shred of hope you had dissipated.

‘fine?’ you croak out. ‘fine?! you won’t even tell me where i am! or who you even are!’

you’re flailing about pathetically, and he finds himself growing angrier with you. he’d have to teach you obedience, likely fuck it into you. perhaps when you’d had a taste of his cock you’d finally understand that you were meant to be. he loved you, he really did; and he wanted you to love him too. to want to do anything for him, to obey him in every way.

‘that’s not important, sweetheart,’ he smiles, blue eyes swimming with intention. you wondered what exactly he planned to do to you. kill you, perhaps? cut your body into tiny pieces? you shudder at the thought.

‘i want to go home,’ your tears grow thick, and you force your eyes shut, not wanting to bear the shame of emotion.

he pats your head affectionately, a little crestfallen to see his girl so distraught. was he that terrifying? he knew his good looks had allowed him to get away with a lot more than the average person, but the fact that you were so outright about your upset; it struck something inside him.

‘this is your home now, doll,’ he coos, and your eyes blink open, hazy with tears.

‘please,’ you beg, voice cracking in desperation. ‘please just let me go home! i’ll do anything if you let me go home—my parents, they’ll be worried sick about me, they’ll have the peacekeepers search the cameras. if they find you, you’ll be dead!’

you hope you can scare him with your talk of death, but he remains stoic-faced, with only a small unnerving smile playing at his lips. his hand is still firmly clamped around your wrist, and you can see a faint purple ring beginning to form where he’s grasping at you.

‘oh, i don’t think so, sweetheart. you see, i’m not sure president ravenstill would let that happen,’ he warns, and you furrow your brow.

‘president ravenstill?’ you ask. ‘what do you mean?’

he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘why, i’m very close with him. i don’t think he’d have the peacekeepers bother with such a petty task when it’s just a stupid little girl who’s gone missing.’

it hurts him to call you stupid, but you were never the brightest star in the academy, having finished 62nd in your class of 70.

‘oh…’ you’re at a loss for words, while body trembling with disbelief; with anger. how dare he take you?! how dare he refuse to even tell you wear you are, and to inform you that there was no way of getting out? it was cruelty. and all he did was smile.

‘don’t look so upset, princess. i’m going to take care of you. i’ll get you something pretty to wear. i’m afraid your clothes were utterly ruined when i took you. somebody wet herself,’ he laughs at your body’s pathetic response to a threat, and now you’ve got your answer as to why you’re so bare.

‘i don’t want anything,’ you hiss, turning your head away from him in fury, but he grabs your chin and forces you to meet his icy gaze.

‘if you’d prefer to traipse around my apartment in nothing but your slip, i won’t complain,’ he eyes your bare neck and arms. ‘but i don’t want you to be cold. i’ll get you whatever your little heart desires, how about that?’

you shake your head, fat tears still rolling down your flushed cheeks. he clicks his tongue in disapproval, but leaves you to wallow in the bed.

—

he returns some time later, baring a tray of food. you had tried to sleep, and so watch him with groggy eyes. he’s smiling, and when he places the tray down on the side table, pats you on the hand.

‘i’m not hungry,’ you mutter, but the groaning of your belly betrays you. you don’t know how long it’s been, but you’d skipped breakfast that morning. it wasn’t too late, judging by the sun that was high in the sky, but you’d still not eaten since dinner the night before.

he sighs, a disapproving look in his eyes. ‘i didn’t say you had a choice, hm? i can’t have my girl going hungry.’

the food did look delicious, you had to admit. some sort of soup, and bread—it made your mouth water. but still, you shake your head.

he picks up the spoon from the tray, and scoops up a serving of soup in it. you move to turn your head away, but he uses his free hand to grab your chin.

‘open up,’ he commands. you don’t want him to feel like you’re trusting of him, but you’re wary of what he’ll do if you don’t oblige.

he forces the soup down your throat, and you swallow. it tastes delicious. you open your mouth again, hungry for more, stomach still growling. he smiles, watching as you lap up the drops he spoons into your mouth. he wonders what you’d look like, taking his cock the same way, swallowing his cum with the same wide-eyed hunger you have now.

‘good girl,’ he praises, wiping a loose drop of soup from the corner of your lips. ‘that wasn’t so hard now, was it?’

you shake your head, and presses a kiss to your cheek. you flinch reflexively, which causes him to scowl. he drags his thumb across the place he kissed, admiring the soft red mark it's left in your skin. it'll fade in a minute or so, but you can feel the imprint like it's a nagging bruise.

he reaches over to feed you the bread, breaking it up into tiny pieces and shoving it past your plump lips like you're a little bird. you're so fragile, he wonders if you'd break if he tried to take you today. no, he'll wait for that. it's frustrating, but he'll wait—he wants you to be strong enough to take him, and tell him how good he feels, pumping you with his cock.

you eat until you are full—so full that you feel sick, your stomach aches. he's delighted, a wry smile playing upon his lips. your throat is parched though, and you gesture to the glass on the tray.

'please, could i have some?' you ask, and he nods. you're not sure what it is, a dark liquid, but when he presses the rim to your lips you gulp it down.

delight flickers in his eyes, and you suddenly feel your head swimming. the potent mixture is familiar, like a heady wine mixed with sweet spices. you can't place your finger on it.

'it's posca,' he sees the quizzical look on your face, and your brows raise in alarm.

'you gave me posca! are you insane?' you cry out, already feeling your limbs go heavy from the alcohol. you're so tired.

'shh, it's only to help you sleep.' he strokes your hair, and if you weren't so exhausted, you would have forced his hand away.

your eyelids begin to flutter shut as your mouth stretches into a yawn. you can't be sure if he hasn't laced it with something, but the way you gulped the drink down means you can't tell if it's just the effects of the posca, which is usually only taken in small amounts.

'goodnight, sweetheart.' he murmurs, kissing your temple and pulling the blankets up around you. you look so innocent, stretched out in your supine form. it's almost as if he didn't kidnap you.

you shut your eyes, too overwhelmed by the alcohol to fight the sleep, but your heart pounds erratically in your ears, a reminder that you're not out of harm's way...

—

taglist: @personalque @jacesvelaryons @justacaliforniandreamer

#coriolanus snow #tom blyth #smut #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #tbosbas #coryo smut #coryo snow #coryo x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #tbosbas x reader #snow x reader #female x reader #x reader #president snow #coriolanus snow smut #blurb #drabble #fanfic #tbosbas fanfic #the hunger games fanfic #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x reader

[razzle-n-dazzle]

saw u wanted more Adam fics

Adam x f!reader

reader is trying to sleep but Adam keeps trying to show her and tell her stuff. “Like babe hey babe look at this!”

“Babe babe wait did I tell you?”

“Babe holy shit wait guess what!!”

*meanwhile she screams into her pillow*

ᯓ★ "Adam, Love, SHUT THE F-" Adam / Reader | Drabble-ish

ᯓ Do you know those days where you just need a little piece and quiet? Like after a long day of work, where your boss was being unreasonable and your coworkers were being even more unbearable than usual. A long day when you go out to eat for lunch and yet the place you decide to go is busy more than usual, and of course it's on the one day you just wanted an easy meal, so you decide to sit and wait. What is the harm of that? Apparently, a lot. Especially when everyone has a stick shoved up their ass today, and when running over your lunch would have been understood and excused any day sparked a fire from Hell in Heaven. And it was only my five minutes! You were late to the office by five minutes despite having been sitting, waiting for lunch for twenty out of your thirty allotted minutes, and doing work to be ahead of schedule for your boss! You were late by five minutes because the sidewalks had been unreasonably crowded for that time of day and you had sprained your wing rushing not to be late earlier that morning because your boyfriend wanted to be up your ass for an extra five minutes this morning!

ᯓ Safe to say you just proved that there could be bad days in Heaven, no matter what anyone else said and you desperately needed a nap. Or maybe you just needed to knock out for the rest of the day, you weren't sure, all you knew was that your bed was calling your name and that was the only thing on your mind right now. Well, it had been the only thing on your mind until you stepped foot into your shared apartment. "Oh perfect fucking timing, Sugartits, come here!" Adam, with an obnoxious amount of energy today, waved you down to the couch. "Hurry up! You know I love to see that ass move when it walks, but this is super fucking important." And what could entertaining your boyfriend before you went and knockout for the rest of the night do? You mean, it was only thing he wanted to show you.

ᯓ "Fucking, look. Look!" Adam exclaimed as you heavily sat down next to him, allowing for him to cheekily swing an arm around your shoulder. This promptly led him to lean against you as he stuck his phone out, a video pulled up. You watched it to entertain him and his little fancy for whatever he had found; Being able to snuggle into his side in the process and listen to his hysterical laughter during the whole venture. It wasn't nothing too exciting, some sort of slapstick humor video and you understood why Adam found it hilarious, but you just didn't have the energy to laugh at it today. So you gave him a small chuckle as his arm found itself crossing down your back and wrapping around your hip, his hand resting on your thigh. "Oh fucking shit! You see, now that shit if fucking humor, comedy gold!" You needed whatever acid trip Adam was on and desperately.

ᯓ You would hum briefly in agreement towards his statement, feeling as his chest quickly rose and fall as he choked out laughter. Even with such motions you couldn't help but be drawn in by his warmth, snuggling closer to him. And you're sure he noticed, as he was sneakily trying to coax you more and more, using the hand that now was daringly close to your ass, to sit on his lap. Against his harsher, more lively breath, yours was slower and shallow, and as Adam managed to get you to snuggle up to his chest while on his lap, he took notice. It was hard to not to, especially when the sound of you not laughing with him just hit his ears. So confused, Adam would pear down at you. A few nervous bits of laughter left him, a silent signal for you to take notice of how he noticed your odd behavior, yet he died down as you didn't seem to notice (or care) much. Which caused his eyes to narrow and his eyebrows to frown up, a worried frown tugging onto the side of his lips. "Uh, Babe, you good?" His question was accompted by his gravely voice, which was now lower in volume and a lot less sure of himself. "You didn't fucking laugh at the video."

ᯓ "You do know this is comedy gold right? Gold! Not laughing at it would be a fucking crime." Adam would wave his cellphone near your face, flashing you with the bright light which caused you to promptly turn your head away from him. He noticed as your face scrunched, yet you didn't use your wings or hands to knock the phone out of his hand like usual. And that's when he really started to become concern. You weren't acting as you normally would with him, you weren't laughing at the videos he founded or retorting to his antics with your own. You were just laying there, curled up onto his lap with droopy wings and a weak hold around his chest. "Holy shit, Babe, you're not dying are you?" Was the first thing that blurted out of Adam's mouth, being the first thing thought that crossed his head as finally took a real notice of how bad of a state you're in. How the feathers on your wings seemed all out of sorts, how one wing was a little more puffed than the other, how eyebags had began to form under your eyes, and just how tired and weak you looked.

ᯓ "...and you're not getting fucking ugly either are you? It's not contagious is it? Because I can't be fucking ug-" You were swift to cut Adam off, pressing one of your hands against his mouth to muffle any more stupid shit he had to say in this moment. To which Adam drew back a little and started down at you, a moment of shock before unamusement crossed his face. He was gentle, more so than usual, as he picked up your hand by the wrist and drug it away from his mouth. Though he didn't say anything for a good moment, silently (and a little anxiously) waiting to see if you would say anything to him. And maybe it was the nerves on being the on the battle field too many times, or the anxiety of losing another lover, but Adam grew more and more disturbed at your lack of communication or movement the longer the silence wore on. "Babe," He gently nudged you, watching as you just let yourself roll back into place. You didn't even give a hum that time. Now Adam could feel his stomach doing little backflips. "Babe." This one came out a bit more stern as he nudged you a little harder. Yet, you only rolled back into place, not acknowledging his efforts on trying to make sure you weren't dying. Were you fucking dying? Holy shit, that would not be something Adam would want to go through today. "Babe! Sugartits!" Adam shouted, forcefully shoving you away from his warmth by the shoulders, "Please fucking tell me you're not about to die on me because that would be really fucking traumatic!.. If you're going to die at least do it in like, the bedroom or something!"

ᯓ You knew Adam didn't mean it, that he was just trying to stir a reaction out of you to make sure you were alright, yet his comment kind of pissed you off. Less so than when he forcefully drew you away from your only source of heat and comfort from the cruel reality you had to live today. So, reluctantly, you gave our a murmur, "...tired... shut up.." and forcefully tried to lay against Adam again; Trying to just take a small nap, or simply hide from the day you had today in your boyfriend's arms and warmth. Even if one of his hands had been resting on your ass. "Babe, you can't be fucking tired, it's not even dinner. Who the fuck is going to cook because last time I fucking remember you telling me I couldn't." Adam asked in a huff, though was silently relieved that you weren't just about to die in his arms like some dramatic soap opera. So, he let you lay back against his chest. It felt nice to have your weight there anyways. "Adam... shush.." Again, you tried to hush your rather obnoxious boyfriend, even for a little. And you knew he knew that you were tired, on the verge of passing out; It was a dead give away when he fluffed out his wings and wrapped them around you, noticing had dead you felt against him.

ᯓ "But you're still fucking making dinner though, right?" He would quip, a snicker growing on his dumb face as he leaned down to the side, promptly laying you both down. Now you knew he was just being a dick about it, that or he was just glad that you weren't silently suffering and dying against his chest. But either way, you were going to leave his question unanswered as you buried his head against his chest. No matter how much shit Adam might give you, you always found comfort in his warmth and with him being near. It was kind of like having an annoying dog that looked and sounded all tough and scary and was sometimes a big dick, but secretly cared about you under all the gunk. "Fuck it, I'll just order in." Adam muttered, placing his chin on the top of your head (having to curl around you a little to do so) as you were sure he began to pull up menus of restaurants nearby that delivered. And as you drifted off to sleep, you liked to believe he did so, so you didn't have to worry about cooking when you woke up. But you knew that was only half the truth, the other half was that he was probably craving those lamb chops he absolutely adores. And you were fine with that.

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#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #adam x you #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #x reader #not proof read #not proofread #hazbin #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n

[aestheticaltcow]

Six Months

An attempt at some parenthood angst?

Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.

 Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”

Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”

Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.” 

The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.

“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day. 

“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.” 

As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”

“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.

~

“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs. 

You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”

“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.

“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone. 

Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.

~

It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.

We’re both parents. 

I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…

My son is at his Dad’s place

Come over <3

Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.” 

You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.

 “I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.

 “Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”

 “I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.

You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. 

Send me your address.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear fan ficiton #the bear fic #the bear one shot #the bear imagine

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Imagine Zuko is working at the Jasmine Dragon and you are a regular :)

I love the small town coffee shop/ cafe feel, and when you throw in a romance trope- I will smother that MF in butter and eat it for my final meal. I love my grump x sunshine tropes, if you couldn’t tell. 

This one isn’t really following a proper timeline or story, cuz I’m not using Zuko and Irohs fake names and they really are just chillin in that tea shop for this story, BUT just a fluffy idea I really like. Anywho, fluffy and some steam ;) that gets steamy. (WINK WINK)

WC: ~2100 words

So let’s imagine…

Age of Admission: 18 and Wrinkled

Zuko is a server at the Jasmine Dragon tea shop owned by his Uncle Iroh. It became super popular very fast and you thought you would check it out. You walk in one morning and come to meet the owner, he introduces himself as Iroh. He is very kind and as you two talk, you find it is only himself and his nephew who work there. Iroh points out his nephew and when you turn to look where he motions, a figure disappears into the back. You thank Iroh for his kindness and say you cannot wait to come back. You would end up becoming a regular that would come in and read for a long time when the shop was quiet but leave when it got busy.

When you would come in, Zuko was always conveniently the one to help you. He would take your order, he would give you your tea and come by your table to check if you needed anything. He was nonchalantly cold to you but… not…? You would always smile and thank him and try to make small conversation, but Zuko never really engaged, he wasn’t rude and would agree with you then quickly move on. But over time, you noticed Zuko never stopped at any of the other tables to check on them, only yours. 

Over time it is very apparent that Zuko has the biggest soft spot for you but tries not to show it. He constantly stares at you, but glances away before he gets caught. Iroh obviously takes notice fairly quickly and tries talking with Zuko, but it is short lived. Iroh comments “You two would complement each other quite well. Not to mention the smile she brings out of you, now that's quite the achievement.” Zuko only rolls his eyes as he walks into the back. 

On another day you had been sitting for almost an hour finishing your second cup of tea, in the last few chapters of your book, Zuko was glancing at you from behind the counter as he dried a teapot. Iroh tried again, “You should talk to her.” Zuko visually tenses, “What?! No! What would I even say??” He said in a harsh whisper. “You are overthinking nephew, she always tries to spark a conversation, just let your conversation rivers flow and intertwine!” Zuko looked at him blandly, Iroh gave a soft smile, “A compliment can go a long way.” Iroh patted his shoulder and went to walk among the tables conversing with the customers.

One day you had stayed particularly later than you had thought as a rush didn’t happen and you were very into your book. Eventually Zuko walks over to you and places down a small dessert, it was some sort of pear tart. You smiled up at Zuko and thanked him for the kind gesture. “Yeah, we are closing soon and there happened to be some left that didn’t sell.” Zuko said. You shot up, not noticing the time, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Can I take it to go?” You say standing and gathering your things, you start apologizing for holding them up but Zuko was only half listening as he looked out the window at the dark street. He was worried about you being out so late and walking home alone. He cuts you off and insists it's fine and to wait till after they close and he would walk you home. Your heart flutters as it was something you knew you wanted but didn’t realize how badly. You smile and nod your head in thanks, but Iroh had overheard and insisted that Zuko could head out now as he could close himself. 

Zuko and yourself walked along the main street, the night was dark but the street lamps lit your way. You hold your book with both hands in front of you as you talk about what happened in the many chapters you read tonight. Zuko and you walk side by side, you smile as you explain the events, Zuko listens but is watching around for anything to be cautious of. You both make it back to your apartment and you thank Zuko for the kind gesture and offer him to come in. To your dismay he declines, you were sad as he turned away and waved goodnight, knowing it was out of good chivalry. After what felt like the longest walk home of his life, Zuko returns to the tea shop. Iroh welcomes Zuko back and asks how it went, Zuko snapped “Do you stick your nose into everyone’s business, or just mine?” Iroh looked at Zuko for a moment, “She asked you to stay, didn’t she?” Zuko scrunched his nose and didn’t reply, he walked back to his room.

You had come down with a cold and didn’t return to the tea shop for a couple days. But little to your knowledge, through those couple days Zuko found himself waiting for you to walk through the front doors. He found himself looking at the door every time someone walked through but disappointment cooling his veins when it wasn’t you. 

After almost a week goes by you show up again, Iroh welcomes you back warmly and insists your regular order will be out swiftly before walking into the back. You smile and take a seat, pulling out your book, not long after Zuko is at your table with your tea. Zuko makes a comment about your absence and you explain how you had gotten a cold and then tease him about missing you. Zuko starts to try and back track his comment, you can see a bit of embarrassment peek through as he tries to cover up his feelings that showed through his concern of you missing. You decide to take a leap and try to show him it's ok. “Well, I missed your company too.” you said warmly, as Zuko composed, someone walked in and up to the counter. Zuko added it was nice to have you back before heading to serve the customer.

A rush started that afternoon so you marked your place in your book, paid and left. You spent some time in the market and on your route home you passed the tea shop. You walked by slowly to see Zuko sweeping by the front door, he looked up and questioned why you were out so late. You smiled and explained about the market, told him about the shops and liveliness. While you were talking Iroh pops out from the back mid question for zuko, but pauses when he sees you. He exclaimed how nice it was to see you again with a warm smile walking to you and Zuko. You return the gesture and brief him about the market that you explained to Zuko. Iroh agreed it sounded fun and insisted You show Zuko, all closing was basically done and could finish up by himself. 

You and Zuko made your way to the market and walked around, there were many food stands, flower stands, jewelry stands, fabric stands, anything you name it was probably there. As you both walked and you talked, a cool breeze started setting in so you looped your arm through Zukos and walked closer to him, commenting on his warmth. Zuko only hummed and continued on with you, even though his heart was totally a butterfly exhibit at that moment. Once the market was fully explored, Zuko offered to walk you home again as it was very late and he should get you home.

Once again you both ended up on your apartment door step. You thanked him for a great night and him walking you back, you unlocked and opened your door, offering again for Zuko to come in. Zuko starts to insist he leaves but you cut him off with a kiss. Zuko was surprised for only a split second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your waist. You pull away and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Please, stay for a bit”. He looked at you, “Are you sure?” he asked, keeping his hold on your waist, your shirt parted slightly from your pants and the warmth of his hand hummed against your skin. You held his gaze while you grabbed his hand, taking him inside. 

Once you were both in, you handed Zuko the keys, he closed the door and locked it. The second he turned around you moved in, you placed your hand on his jaw and chest. Zuko lavished in your kiss and put his hands on the small of your waist, bringing you in as close as possible. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, but craved more. You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull up, Zuko releases you and grabs his shirt, yanking it off quickly, returning to your lips. But this time his hands didn’t fall on your waist, they reached to the back of your thighs, hiking you up with ease as pleasant yelp of surprise from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The kiss was so hot you pulled away, your head falling to the side as Zuko moved to kiss your jaw and neck. “Zuko…~ah!” He hummed in response, “Zuko, bedroom… behind us…” Zuko promptly moves to the door you mention, pushing it open with his foot, stepping in and swiftly closing it with a firm but gentle kick.

Zuko set you down on the bed, you eagerly took off your shirt and you laid chest bare, not having worn underclothing today. Zuko’s hands were immediately on your torso, and chest. As Zuko kissed along your neck and collar bone, you scrape your nails down his shoulders and slide your hands along his arms, feeling the lean build of his muscle. Zuko asks if this is ok, what you both were doing, you wasted no time in confirming you were more than ok with it. You grab the waist line of his pants and pull him close, he grunts and pushes himself further against you, you gasp. Zuko goes to remove your pants, you raise your hips to quicken the process. You now laid bare before Zuko, everything for him to see. You could feel the vulnerability creep in and the natural urge to cover, but you knew you were comfortable and this is what you wanted. Your hands worked his trousers and slid them off. Zuko stood proud as he hovered over you, laying between your legs. Anticipation slid around your stomach, you kissed deeply, you could feel Zuko at your entrance, you gasped. He leaned back and looked down at where you met, grinning. Pushing forward slightly, his head pushing against your kitten. “~mmh… ah!” You moan out as he pushes further in, Zuko lets out a breath as he rests on elbows over top of you. He pushes in all the way and an audible gasp leaves your mouth as you could swear he hit an organ. He pulls out and slides back in, in the most devilish way of feeling like he is hitting deeper with every thrust. Your eyes roll back as his hips move in the perfect way, feeling his skin against yours, his muscles move against your body. Zuko puts his arms under your knees and spreads your legs wide and pushes them up, giving him better access as well as deeper penetration, which is baffling to you in that second until he continues. Now nothing is going through your mind except Zuko's breath and your moans in the air. You felt a knot in your stomach form, you tapped on his shoulder and told him you were close. He groaned and kept going as you fell apart under him, almost reaching his peak as you became so sensitive you couldn't contain the moans coming from you. But before you could think, he was about to climax. Zuko cursed and pulled out, cumming on your stomach. You both are absolutely racked from the events, Zuko takes a deep breath in, kisses you and says he will be right back. He comes back with a towel, cleaning you up and laying next to you. 

You lay on his chest and relax, both being out of breath, Zuko said something that shocked you. He exclaimed how he missed you the week you were home sick, and not at the tea shop. You smiled sweetly and cuddled closer to his warm body, explaining how everyday you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

#prince zuko #zuko #atla #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #atla fanfic #avatar zuko #fluff #smut #grumpy x sunshine

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Spencer looking after you when you get hurt on a stakeout

You'd been paired with a local officer, tasked with a night stakeout at a farm. The pair of you were supposed to watch for any activity, and report back any movement.

Which of course went pear shaped when the young, ambitious man you'd been placed with identified a missing person being led out of the main building. Faster than you could react to stop him, he'd thrown himself out the door, gun raised and ready and attempted to subdue the men.

Instead of impulsively running after him, you chose to stay back and call for help. Simultaneously pressing the distress button on the device Garcia had rather ingeniously insisted you all carry.

It pinged your location to all members of the team, and alerted them that whoever pressed it was in trouble.

Reaching the sheriff's department, you reported the activity and the officers mistake. Watching as they turned on him, you let out a gasp when one of the suspects didn't wait for him to finish the rest of his demands. Instead in the blink of an eye shot him, three times.

"Agent? Agent? Can you hear me, what's going on there?" The Detective who'd answered the phone asked you.

"They just killed him." You breathed, watching as they dragged his body away, the missing boy cowering against the side of the house. Before another one of the suspects grabbed onto him and dragged him away.

"Have they seen you? Are you compromised?"

"Maybe... I don't know. They-" you were cut off by the passenger door opening, revealing one of the men you'd been watching earlier that night.

Before you could reach for your gun, which was stupidly placed on the dashboard, he grabbed you by your hair and dragged you out of the car. Slamming you down onto the ground roughly, even your kevlar vest couldn't stop the air being knocked out of you.

Promptly followed by a hard kick to your stomach, making your chest go into spasm. Gasping in air, you could barely focus on where the next hit was coming from.

***

After what seemed like an eternity he finally let up, shoving you back into the gravel of the driveway and stalking off. Barking orders at the other men who had appeared from the shadows.

"Let's go boys, we need to ship out to location Tango. Got it?.. Let's go then. Her buddies will be here any moment." He called out, sparing a glance back to you.

Feeling entirely too conscious, you dared not move, not fancying another punch to the face.

Multiple cars started up and disappeared over the hills to the back of the property.

You curled onto your side, and tried to breathe in some even breaths. Trying to not focus on the pain all over, you managed to get yourself on all fours. Realising at some point he pulled your bulletproof vest off.

Maneuvering yourself so you were slowly leaning back against the tyre of the truck you were doing the stakeout in. The light from the houses and extra that had been switched on gave you a good look around. And also at yourself. Seeing there were blood splatters on your shirt. You tried not to imagine what you looked like.

Closing your eyes for a moment, taking slow deep breaths in to try and calm your racing heart.

Hearing the sound of gravel under tyres, you instantly panicked. A unexpected wave of adrenaline coarsed through you, giving you the energy needed to get yourself off the floor and in a better position to defend yourself in.

"Y/n?" Hotch's concerned shout fell of deaf ears as you scrambled to get into the car and grab your gun.

"Hey, no, no, no. It's us, calm down." A familiar voice soothed. Intercepting you and stopping your hand before it could pick up your weapon, that you hadn't had the chance to grab.

You hissed and winced as he touched you left wrist, a sickeningly sharp pain shooting up your arm.

"I'm sorry. What hurts?"

"Spence?" Seeing his face relaxed you instantly, "we need to be quick, they literally just left. Over that ridge up there. If we go now we could catch up with them."

Leaning down to get a look at you, some of his wild hair falling out of place as he fussed over you.

"You're not going anywhere, okay? You need to be seen to, what the hell happened? We got the distress ping and ran out the door."

He intercepted your attempt to grab the keys in the ignition. Taking them from you and putting them in his coat pocket.

"That stupid boy got himself killed. He ran over there, gun out, demanding they gave up the boy and that they were under arrest... There were three of them! To one of him, he was never going to subdue all of them."

"You did everything right, okay? He should never have tried to go after them. This group is far too organised for that."

"But I just sat here. I watched it happen, I-"

"Stop. I won't let you do this to yourself. Did you see the person who attacked you?"

"Yeah, he was young. Green eyes, bit of a beard. Around six-five. Probably mid thirties. Um- he was wearing a yellow plaid shirt with a puffer vest jacket. He had.." You trailed off, a piercing headache making you double over.

"That's amazing, y/n. Come on, the ambulance is over here." He said, curling his arm around your waist and helped you out of the car.

Spying Hotch looking over a map, you pulled away from Spencer and limped over to him. Spencer following close behind holding onto your wrist.

You looked at the map to get your bearings, finding the circled area you were in. You pointed at the hills behind the house.

"Y/n, have you seen a medic?" Aaron asked, frowning at you, one of the few facial expressions he had.

"No she hasn-" Spencer started, but you cut him off.

"They went over this ridge," you paused, steadying yourself on the bonnet of the truck, "if we leave now we could catch them."

"Okay, but you aren't going anywhere until you've been checked out. Reid. Make sure she gets medical attention." Hotch spoke to you and then to Spencer who was hovering worriedly.

"Hotch, please. We might not get another chance like this again." You tried, refusing to move from the car.

"Y/n that's not a suggestion. It's an order. Go." Hotch finalised, nodding to Spencer who supported you as he lightly pulled you back.

The medics met you halfway and started asking you an endless list of questions.

A suspected cracked rib and multiple bones in your wrist, concussion, and bruising all over. You were told to visit the hospital once you were back in the city. They strapped you up and gave you some painkillers.

"Where's Hotch?" You asked as Spencer helped you get down from the ambulance, "I've been checked out, I want to help."

"They've headed back to the station. We can't just go roaming across the hills looking for people in the dark. Y/n, it's too dangerous."

"Spencer, come on. We won't get another chance like this."

"We will, okay? I promise you they won't get away. You think any of us will let you go out like this? You need x-rays, anti-inflammatory medication, potentially a CT scan, and most of all rest. Hotch wants you on two weeks leave, after you leave the hospital."

"No," you exclaimed exasperated, "I need you to do a cognitive interview on me."

"Okay. But not now." He spoke softly, brows furrowed as he looked down at you.

"Why not now?"

"Because you've spent the last ten minutes digging your nails into your palm. And you only do that when you're in pain."

You instantly released your clenched fist. Not realising you'd even being doing it.

Releasing a deep breath, you were finally ready to admit defeat. Nodding, you let him lead you back to the car you'd come in.

The drive back was comfortably silent, Spencer looking over to check on you occasionally. You sighed on arriving at the closest hospital.

"I know okay. But do you really want me lecturing you about all the reasons you should follow the medics advice and get to the hospital immediately?"

Shaking your head, you sent a small smile his way.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[gffa]

All right, so maybe I went haring off to another fandom for awhile, but I will never fully let go of my STAR WARS fic reading roots because there's just so much incredible fic here and I have such intense feelings about these characters, like how can I possibly truly leave when this fandom knows how to scratch my id just right or make me cry over fictional characters or hyena laugh because you people are very funny? There's just so much fic that is so good that of course I keep coming back! Especially when it comes to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, there are just so many incredible people making incredible fics for them that feed right back into my love for their twisty, turny, complicated, beautiful, awful relationship. So here's a bunch of Obikin fic because the fandom is amazing and you should go love them as much as I love them, since you can hopefully completely sate yourself on a bunch of fantastic fic to read! Or idk send yourself into a grief coma because sometimes fic writers are almost as mean as canon was, but in the best way, the way that really hits you in the feelings place. Or idk idk just gorge on all the porn because DANG Obikin fandom brings the porn! WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE:

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121k wip     In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Together in Slumber by ibex_ascendant, obi-wan/anakin, 2.4k wip     Several months after his last confrontation with Darth Vader, Obi-Wan finds himself trapped in a vivid and mysterious mindscape. And he isn't there alone. ✦ Satellite Mind by intermundia, septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 19.3k     Some doors, once opened, can never be closed, and some secrets, once learned, can never be forgotten. or, Five times Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s thoughts, and one time Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s. ✦ Slow Learner by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 12.6k     Four times Anakin tried to fit Obi-Wan's big dick inside him and one time he managed it. or; the evolution of their sexual relationship. ✦ Redolent of you by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dom/sub, 31.3k wip     This act of espionage is going to require some class A play at antiquated alpha and omega dynamics, only problem is Anakin has never submitted in his life and it's certainly not within his nature,or so Obi-Wan thinks. ✦ Heal Me, My Darling by wasureneba, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 12.4k     Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan takes care of him. For two weeks. Alone. This would be easier if Anakin wasn't quite so gone for Obi-Wan. Or if this didn't involve a daily stab in the shebs. ✦ For He, too, is King by MayMeows, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, historical au, 7.7k     “I am here to present myself to the man who now calls himself King of my people.” Obi-Wan would be impressed as Anakin’s title as God-King, born from the divine himself, often struck people with awe, terrifying or glorifying, but Queen Amidala’s voice is as strong as her shoulders are squared. ✦ How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by Sharp_Tongue, obi-wan/anakin & mace & yoda & quinlan & palpatine, nsfw, time travel, 23.9k     After defeating Vader on a barren, nameless moon, Obi-Wan had let go of the past. But the past hadn’t let go of him. ✦ (feel like i die) ‘til i feel your touch by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & yoda & mace & ahsoka, 15.5k     OR; Obi-Wan gets himself cursed and makes it everyone’s, but mainly Anakin’s, problem.

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED AND/OR DIVERGES: ✦ Yellow Surprise by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.1k     When Anakin is distant with him during a simple negotiation mission Obi-Wan jumps to the wrong conclusion, luckily for him Anakin isn't willing to let him go so easily. ✦ A Good Epithet by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 8.2k     Obi-Wan should have been happy. He had fulfilled Qui-Gon’s final wish. He had trained Anakin, he had spent ten years teaching the boy and watching him grow, he had cared for him and scolded him and coddled him by turns. He had, for better or worse, been Anakin Skywalker’s Master. ✦ hold on to this lullaby by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & rex, 1k     “Anakin,” Kenobi says with a hint of a reprimand in his voice. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Skywalker staggers further into the room, and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. He rolls his eyes but it doesn’t do anything to mitigate the color high on his face and the effect it has on his features: a pleased expression flashing clear as ion fire. Having made his way to one of the chairs, he drops down onto it with the elegance of a Hutt. ✦ Any Other World by mysticmjolnir, obi-wan/anakin & vader & leia & reva, NSFW, dimension hopping, 24.2k wip     Anakin has been looking for his Master for a very long time. Finally, on Mapuzo, he finds him. ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k     An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving. ✦ spirit meets the bone by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, time travel, dom/sub, 2k     Or, the Force keeps sending Anakin forward in time from the Clone Wars. ✦ Azúcar, Sudor by Delzi, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking/discipline, 18.6k wip     Anakin can't stand Obi-Wan's new disciplinary tactic, but he absolutely loves it. ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k     Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.3k     Anakin’s eyes snapped open. Oh no. Oh no. Anakin slumped back into the bed, staring down at himself in horror. Anakin Skywalker had just had a wet dream about Obi-Wan Kenobi. [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k     An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving.

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD: ✦ Strings Pulled Taut by preromantics, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k     (AKA Anakin gets a bunch of gunk in his hair, Obi-Wan has been hyper-fixated, and it all bursts like a bubble.) ✦ dark red by wesnenski, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k     He feels Obi-Wan before he sees him: a ripple in the Force, a glow of warmth in the darkness. When he appears from the shadows like a bleary-eyed spectre, Anakin can only look up at him, nostrils flared, lip quivering. Here is his Master, tired and gaunt but solid and present and real. ✦ Take Care of Yourself, I Wish I Could by Kefalion, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 7k     While Obi-Wan and Anakin are alone on a planet during a mission, Anakin goes into a presentation heat. One Obi-Wan will not help him through no matter how much they'd both want it. Not that they know that want is mutual. ✦ Fever by dirkygoodness, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, cat boy!anakin, 3.5k     Obi-Wan wakes up to a cuddly (Ny)Anakin and is met with something he isn't expecting. He's going to have to deal with it though. And enjoy himself as he does. ✦ sink into the dunes by stardies, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 9k     [A collection of small Obikin drabbles. Each chapter will have its own one shot.] 01. sfw, anakin’s separation anxiety. 02. first time nsfw. 03. obikin zine piece, sith!obi-wan, jedi!anakin, handjobs. ✦ a necessary respite by Anonymous, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.6k     to be fair, all of this is obiwan’s fault. even though his master is calmly sorting through reports the faint buzz of arousal in the back of both of their heads is majorly coming from him, anakin just can’t help but react to it. ✦ the lean and hungry type by tideswept, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.5k     And so is Anakin, really, for being excited about this rather than angry. He wets his lower lip, striving to cohere his thoughts into something that isn’t appallingly horny, when Master speaks. “I’m not in rut,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t spring that on you.” “I mean,” Anakin pauses. “You could.” ✦ when people show you who they are, believe them by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, spanking, dom/sub, 3k     Anakin has a meeting with the Chancellor. Obi-Wan convinces him to take a slow morning instead. ✦ needs must by silianrail, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dual sex!anakin, 1.7k     Anakin must be the neediest omega in the entire temple, if not on the entire planet. But if Anakin is needy, what does that make Obi-Wan, who, after all, bends to so many of his padawan’s desires? ✦ Use Me by kittimau, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.5k     Anakin knows what Obi-Wan needs, even if he won't say it.

✦ Insatiable by TheSopherfly, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.8k     Obi-Wan meets Anakin’s eyes with a rueful smile. “You wanted it fast, yes?” “Yes.” Even without their responsibilities looming, Anakin would’ve wanted it like this; quick and dirty, like they just can’t help themselves. “Yeah. Fast is perfect.” “Good,” Obi-Wan says, punctuating the word with a single thrust. “Because I don’t think I’ll last long.” Or; With the twins still asleep, Anakin and Obi-Wan steal some time for themselves. ✦ Hazy Shade of Winter by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.7k     Obi-Wan runs hot; Anakin most definitely does not. Thankfully Obi-Wan is there to warm Anakin up when things get unusually cold in the Jedi Temple. ✦ The Love You Want by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, potential dub con-esque (read the tags), 6.8k     They've returned to their rooms after sparring, flushed and laughing and close enough that the very air feels heated between them. Once the door has closed, Obi-Wan turns to Anakin, smiling, takes Anakin's jaw in the cup of his hand and kisses him like the first blush of spring. "You'll be good for me, won't you?" he murmurs, and Anakin does nothing more than dreamily nod because he knows just what to do when he's slipped under like this. Knows his job is to be obedient and pliant and good. ✦ Handle Me With Care by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k     Obi Wan wants Anakin but he knows he shouldn't. He also knows that there is no way he could ever act on it - or so he thought. ✦ tear me apart by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 2.4k     Obi-Wan uses Anakin in the Council Chamber ✦ A Lesson in Listening by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, toys, 4.4k     “Anakin,” Obi-Wan says simply. Anakin feels chills run down his spine. That tone means everything except simplicity. “Bedroom.” His husband commands. ✦ Keeping Company by Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 11.1k     "So, will you? Will you help me through my heat? Please, I want you to fuck me, Master, I need it." Anakin doesn't care that he's begging already, but he's getting even wetter between his legs and he can't help it. Obi-Wan doesn't seem to mind anyway, because he groans and drags his fingers up into Anakin's hair and tugs slightly, making Anakin gasp. "Force, yes, I'll give you what you need, Anakin." ✦ king unmaker by unbitten, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, transmasc!anakin, royalty au, 4.4k     How to get your King to stop playing hooky from his appointments to make trips to the brothel? Scold him. Stare disapprovingly. Fuck him yourself.

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT: ✦ Reunion by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/darth vader, ~1k     Some sweetness to help with the absolute agony of Obi-Wan lol ✦ The Jedi Child by RowenaNie, obi-wan/darth vader & luke & leia & cast, NSFW, pregnant!anakin, 48.1k     “The emperor has put my replacement inside of me,” Vader said. ✦ Hand in Unlovable Hand by Rachello344, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.8k     Post Kenobi Part VI: Instead of leaving Vader for dead, Obi-Wan finds himself unable to abandon his dear friend again and so takes him with him. How can Obi-Wan Kenobi live without the other half of himself? Whatever it takes, he will drag Anakin back to himself, kicking and screaming. ✦ dreamscape melodies by egeria, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.9k     "The layers you Jedi wear are ridiculous," Vader grumbled. Obi-Wan let out a huff. "We're in a dream, are we not? Can we not just will our clothes off?" -- or: Vader is in heat and Obi-Wan is in his dream. It's still complicated. ✦ to restrain the darkness by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, some dom/sub, 2k     Or, Vader wants Obi-Wan to tie him up. ✦ dreams of old by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, nsfw, 4.1k wip     Obi-Wan surrenders to Vader on Jabiim in exchange for everyone else's freedom.

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE: ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k     Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ Sticky by Delziae, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & rex & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 25.9k     [Or: In which Anakin is too horny to handle and Obi-wan has a bit less control than he originally thought.] ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k     After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & padme, 10.3k     [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ Stargazing by thegingerwrites, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 21k     Anakin and Obi-Wan have become too well-known on the Holonet to take on undercover assignments anymore. But desperate times call for desperate measures and the Council asks them to make contact with a Separatist defector at a gala hosted on Mandalore. At least the event is a masquerade. ✦ praise you by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 17.9k     An act of insubordination, a crash landing and a trek through the forests of an uncharted planet bring Anakin and Obi-Wan to a very hospitable village. Sure they think Anakin is a god, but really, what's wrong with wanting to be appreciated? ✦ terribly inconvenient and incredibly terrific by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 24.8k     Obi-Wan has the sheer nerve to imply that Anakin is ill-suited for a mission he himself is going on, which means that Anakin will stop at nothing to prove his old master wrong. After all, Anakin can do anything Obi-Wan can do, thank you very much. Even if maybe, just this one time, Obi-Wan is right. This mission relies on the one area of Anakin's life he's never spent much time or effort thinking about: his omega designation and Obi-Wan's alpha one. But there's no way that Anakin is going to back down now. What will Obi-Wan do? Go to the planet with another, non-Anakin omega? Don't make him laugh. He's Obi-Wan's partner. And Obi-Wan is his alpha. Alpha master. Same thing. ✦ and when you look at me, the weight of how i feel is heavy on me by brahe, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & depa & qui-gon & rex & cast, 37.9k     “Jus’ like a sun,” Anakin murmurs, and Obi-Wan has to strain to hear it, almost misses it. He stills. “Beautiful shining sun,” Anakin continues, and presses his face further into the pool of robes. His voice is slow and sleepy, and Obi-Wan realizes he can tell Anakin is about to drop off into sleep. He blinks, lifting his head to stare down at him in something between awe and shock. That seems to be the standard operating procedure when it comes to Anakin, he thinks, a little wry, a little wondrous.

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM: ✦ a vacationer's guide to being unexpectedly married by treescape, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 7.8k     “A vacation, you need,” Master Yoda had insisted firmly beneath their incredulous stares when they’d first received their instructions. “On a beach, perhaps, hmmm?” ✦ The Lonely Mollusk by temple_mistress, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, nsfw, 2k     Obi-Wan was incredibly horny, Anakin was, Force-bless him, more than ready to oblige, and the children were miraculously still sleeping. ✦ looking for trouble by orphan_account, obi-wan/anakin (mentioned obi-wan/anakin/padme), spanking, 1.7k     Anakin gets in a fight. Obi-Wan cleans him up and spanks him.

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND: ✦ (I just) died in your arms tonight by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & cast, modern au, 2.5k wip     Where Obi-Wan is still a master of politics and Anakin still fixes spaceships and they’re still irrevocably obsessed with one another. ✦ Win Condition by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, F1 au, 4.3k     Anakin has just won his first race of his F1 career and Obi-Wan, his longtime trainer and partner, knows just what his boy should get as a reward. (His dick. The reward is his dick.) ✦ Hooked on You by whohatessand, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 5.2k     With his wife's approaching senatorial election, Anakin Skywalker tries desperately to be the perfect husband she needs. Little does Padmé know, her husband has been sleeping with her campaign manager, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for quite a while now. ✦ we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, fake married, 5.8k wip     He looks up and meets Anakin’s eyes. A thoughtful expression passes over his face. “Married people are paid significantly more,” he says then, slowly, looking at Anakin like he’s trying to solve a riddle. Anakin stares, dumbstruck. “Huh.” ✦ Would You Like Cream With That? by ranianke, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, professor obi-wan, 2.1k     Obi-Wan was a good teacher. His students learned the content, he got flattering reviews (even when you ignored the chili pepper Rate My Professors reviews that he could not seem to get taken down), and he generally liked teaching. Good professors did not sleep with their students. ✦ Pride & Preparation by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, school au, 5.6k     “You’re beautiful,” Anakin praised, making Obi-Wan blush. “And nervous.” Obi-Wan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” Anakin said easily, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “I love you, and this is going to be really fun.” ✦ swear each night to let him go by vorpalstars, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka, NSFW, modern au, professor!obi-wan, 10.3k wip     Anakin develops an unfortunate amount of lust for his literature teacher ✦ Seven Minutes in Anakin by Saratutti, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, dom/sub, 1.9k     Fully enamored doesn't even begin to describe Anakin’s captivation with the gorgeous professor he has stumbled into dating this Christmas season. ✦ The Melody Wakes the Heart by edgeofn1ght, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 3.5k     However, it's practically love at first sight when Obi-Wan passes a new busker working the alley he passes through every day going to and from work. ✦ Pick-up Games by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 1.1k     Ben’s quiet afternoon is ruined by a basketball player who needs some medical attention. He doesn’t mind too much. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 22: Brakebills by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.2k     Anakin Skywalker was not a typical student of Brakebills University for Magical Pedagogy.

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU: ✦ death by any other name by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, vampire au, 11.5k     While on a mission during his years as a Padawan, Obi-Wan escapes the tight hold of death transformed into something not quite human. In the years following, he isn’t always so lucky. ✦ Till Human Voices Wake Us by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, mer!anakin, 2.7k     It’s late summer when Obi-Wan first notices a flash of gold between the waves. ✦ Goodbye by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, nsfw, 1.2k     Anakin has no wish to leave Obi-Wan, not when they have just been reunited. Luckily for him, Obi-Wan is good at making their goodbye very memorable. ✦ tender like a bruise by stardies, obi-wan/anakin & cast, omegaverse, 6.8k wip     In a stroke of desperation, Obi-wan mates Anakin Skywalker by force on the fiery planet of Mustafar to stop his Fall and save his life. Taken back to Coruscant and imprisoned, Anakin feels the senate's pressure for justice, and Obi-wan, his mate and former mentor is determined to give him another chance. ✦ canaries underground by TheGoodDoctor, obi-wan/padme & references to anakin/padme & obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, padme lives, 10k     There are good days, and bad days. This is a good one. ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & mace & yoda & palpatine & cast, NSFW, Not a Jedi!Anakin, Sith!Obi-Wan, 63.5k     Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can't refuse. These things are, actually, related.

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS: ✦ you can't just leave me by amadwinter, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, 1.6k     Anakin swears he’s above his Omega instincts, but when he’s sparring with his Alpha master one day, some wires get crossed that leave him unable to distinguish friend from foe. A primal fear consumes him, and no amount of Jedi training will shake the feeling he needs to escape. He needs to protect himself from the dangerous Alpha circling around him, searching for any sign of weakness. When backed into a corner, an Omega’s last line of defense is their bite. After all, an Alpha would never hurt their mate… ✦ A Little Early, A Little Late by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 7.4k     Anakin finds out he's pregnant. The problem is that his mating ceremony isn't for another four months. ✦ Sweet Surprise by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 12.3k     Obi Wan and Anakin are forced to land on an unfamiliar planet. Anakin is perplexed by everyone's obvious interest in him, unsure what could be causing it. That is, until he receives some unexpected news. The problem is, Anakin's not quite sure he believes it. The other problem is what Obi Wan might think when he finds out. ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & vokara, NSFW, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 5.3k     After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obikin #obianidala #fic recs #star wars fic recs

[cmncisspnandmore]

Imagine being new to 141.

You’re sitting in a rolling chair, staring at the table with all the documents laid out on it. Price is leaning over it looking over it, trying to figure out what happened, what went wrong.

The sound of boots hitting the ground in rapid succession forces you to look up. Your eyes fall on the doorway just as Ghost gets into view. His chest heaving with each breath, as strides into the room. The other new member of the team, Drew, behind him. His head hung low, clearly having just been chewed out by the Lieutenant.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, a pen between your fingers as you tap it on the table. The dejected man coming to sit in a chair, his eyes down.

“Messed up..” Drew mumbles, as Ghost walks over to Price. He joins the Captain in looking over documents, his eyes occasionally flickering to the both of you.

“More than messed up, almost got us all killed. Don’t whine and cry about it, soldier,” Ghost grunts.

“I didn’t me-“ Drew starts, but is quickly cut off by Ghost.

“Listen. If you can’t handle the truth then you should leave..” Simon’s eyes narrow at Drew, and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes.

Simon’s eyes land on you, “something to say?”

“Yeah.. I think you’re hot when you’re all grouchy,” you smirk, watching as Simon seems to come undone. His face flushing under his mask as he reels trying to come up with something to say. After a few second he sighs and grabs a handful of documents and leaves.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone render him speechless like that…” Price mumbles a smile on his face as he shakes his head.

**this fic was inspired by the line “But you cry about this and whine about that when you grow a pair you can call me back, yeah, I think you're hot,” from Grow A Pear by Kesha**

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley

[hecateslore]

💌

Supervisor!Simon

i'm back babiesssss, needed some time to chill so I don't get burned out lmfao. enjoyyyy also plz let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! someone wanted to be added for supervisor!simon. So I want to build a small one, if some of you are interested. 💋

- 

Tuesday Johnny didn’t come in, He sent you a text saying he wasn’t feeling good, Maybe it was the cake. You didn’t want to pry. Maybe it was you ditching him for Simon. You were gone for some time. Wouldn’t doubt it. 

And it was a quiet Tuesday, Simon and you barely spoke. Maybe he was busy with work, you should be busy with work too. It was hard to pay attention to the screen when you couldn’t stop thinking about His goddamn dimple. 

Wednesday Johnny came in and barely acknowledged you, saying a quick hello and went back to his desk. Simon on the other hand wouldn’t shut up. Monitoring everyone, he even pulled up a chair and sat by your desk for fifteen minutes, not saying anything but watching your screen. And you kind of liked it? He smelled good, Like after-shave, his cologne and laundry detergent.

All he said was good job, tapped your desk and went to the back of the office, watching Johnny's screen. Crossing his fingers hoping he saw how close you two were. 

Thursday Johnny was still distant. Simon was a little quiet again, Saying good morning, giving you a small smile. Simon left early, something to do with a Doctors appointment. Johnny hadn’t said anything to you since the party. You wanted to say something but you kept your mouth closed. You could reach out in text but he wouldn’t answer. You know it. Not that you know him, but what you were receiving of course he wouldn’t.

-

Friday. You came into the office hoping to catch Johnny, he’d been coming in earlier than usual. There he was, sitting on his desk typing away on his phone. You go up to his desk, and those pretty blue eyes look up at you, “How have you been?” you give a small smile. Trying to hide the shame of leaving him high and dry. 

“Been good.” he nods, he goes back to typing on his phone. You look at him trying to figure out his emotions. “Just good?” you chuckle, “Just good.” he affirms. “How have you been?” he asks, still not looking up.  “I’ve been okay.” you say uneasily, “ Do you want to grab breakfast?” you ask, and he looks up again, “I think I’m gonna get something from the breakroom.” he shrugs. You nod, “Alright well, I guess I'll leave you to it.” You walk back to your desk. The thought of confronting him is heavy on your mind. Sitting you peaked over your shoulder and he was still on his phone not paying attention to anything else other than that 8 inch screen. 

Simon’s office door swung open,  And he stood with a shoulder brace over his button up. He walks up to your desk, “Morning.” he says, adjusting the strap slightly, “what’s up with that.” you point to his shoulder, In return he grabs your finger moving it out of the way, “shoulder brace.” he says picking up the same packet of sticky notes he always played with. 

“You get beat up?” you snort, “no,” he rolls his eyes, “I’m old.” he jokes, “Not that old.” you say rolling the chair back and forth. Simon raises a brow and you roll your eyes at him. “You wanna grab some breakfast?” he asks,You think about it and pear over your shoulder again, “I think I’m gonna stay here.” you say. “Do you want me to bring you something?” 

“I’m good.” you smile at his offer, Looking over your shoulder one more time, You’d noticed Johnny left for the breakroom. Simon left and you thought this would be the perfect time for you to talk to Johnny. 

And so you did. You walked to the break room, praying to whomever that it was only Johnny in there. You reach the door, Johnny was looking in the fridge for something. Your heart felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest, how fast it was going, you were sure you were going to pass out. 

“What are you looking for?” you say aloud and it makes johnny jump, he bumps his head on the fridge. He turns around rubbing the spot he hit. “I’m sorry” You apologize, “You can’t sneak on people like that,” his tone a little irked. You hide the laughter that was waiting to erupt. “Sorry.” you apologize again, “Are you okay?” you ask, he nods quietly, “You sure?” 

“I’m fine.” he affirms a bit louder than his original tone. “Well excuse me.” You roll your eyes. “I just wanted to check on you.” you admit. “For what?” he says, bothered. “Uh, cause you just stopped talking to me?” You say confused, “I didn’t just stop talking to you.” he exasperates. 

“Oh sorry, cause we spoke all week, silly me!” you say sarcastically. “No you and Simon did.” 

And you both eye each other, a long pause between you and him, so long that Linda came in and said hello to you both. You both said hello back obviously, but as soon as she walked out. “So you’re not talking to me because of Simon?” you cross your arms. “I told you how I felt about him.” He shrugs, “I think it’s weird he wanted to fire you not even two days ago and now he’s up your ass.” 

Which was true, but he wasn’t up your ass. He’s friendly. “People can change.” You say.  “And I’ll hang out with whoever I want.” You say and Johnny only sighs, “Look,” he pauses gathering himself, “We can talk about this at lunch.”  You narrow your eyes at him, thinking about it for a moment. “Okay.” you agree, biting the inside of your cheek, leaving the break room before him. 

You go to clock in, Still fuming at the interaction earlier, tapping a little louder than usual, So loud it made Simon come out of his office, “You break that you’ll have to buy it.” He says doing weird shoulder exercises. You look up at him, agitation very evident on your face. “Bad day?” he frowns playfully, not pushing any further when you say nothing and go back to work. He only walks back into his office. You wanted to turn around and see if Johnny saw you two. 

Who did Johnny think he was? Yeah he and Simon don’t like each other but what does that have to do with you? It’s not like you and Johnny are dating. 

-

Lunch time comes around and you wait for Johnny out front, he was taking forever to clock out. And to your luck, Simon came out. “Hey.” He draws out the Y, You only wave, “Not feeling good?” he asks, reaching into his pocket. You shrug, not wanting to say anything, “You sick?” he questions? “I’m just annoyed.” You huff and he only says “Oh.”  You notice the granola bar in hand and he offers it to you and you chuckle at him. 

“Pretty boy’s on your nerves?” You shrug again and he smirks, “Don’t start.” A small smile creeping onto your face. “Well I better get going.” he says, grabbing his keys. “Lunch?” you ask, adjusting your coat in hand. “Mhm” he hums, “What are you doing out here?” His brows furrowed in confusion. “Waiting for johnny.” 

“How glorious.” He chuckles, “You can always join me if you want.” he offers, smiling smugly. “I’d rather not..” You say and he lets out a laugh at your reaction. You can see Johnny through the glass, “I guess I’m on my way too.” You sigh. “I’ll see you.” he puts his hand out, and you grin slightly, shaking his hand. He walks off and Johnny comes out of the building “you ready.” and you nod, doing your best to avoid the thought of Simon and his offer. 

You bet his car probably is clean, and it smells good. He probably likes the cardboard air fresheners, not the ones you stick in the vents. He probably doesn’t let you use the cup holders in his car. Simon. Simon. Simon. 

“And that’s what I wanted to tell you.” you look up from your feet. “What?” you say. You weren’t paying attention to what Johnny was saying, you were watching your feet move on the pavement. “I said, I was only feeling a way towards you because of the valentines party, and that’s what I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how.” 

“Oh.” you say awkwardly, “Do you not want to be here right now?” Yes. “No, I've been in my head all morning.” You say falsely. “Sorry about the party, I knew I should’ve said something.” you clarify, “I just got caught up.” 

“Caught up with Simon.” He snickered. You only roll your eyes at him. “Why does it bother you so much?” you ask, “It’s not like me and you are together.” You point out. “I just don’t like the way he treated you.” he shrugs, “fair.” you agree, “I’ve moved on from it though,” You add. 

“I’m allowed to have my feelings.” He says, “Didn’t say you weren’t.” you say sharply, “didn’t say you did.” 

You only sigh, “Well I’m sorry you don’t like who I hang out with.” You give a half apology, “Now you guys hang out?” he says, fake shock on his face. “That’s not what I meant,” You roll your eyes playfully. “Sorry for ignoring you.” he chuckles. You both were standing outside of the grocery store, “I’m not really hungry.” you admit. “Do you want something else?” 

“I think I’m gonna go back to the office.” you scratch the side of your cheek softly, “Do you want me to go with you?” he asks, “No i’ll be fine.” you assure him. 

And you walk alone, back to the office. Maybe Simon was right, Johnny is a bit territorial. What did he get for lunch? And what happened to his shoulder? Simon. Simon. Simon. It was all too overwhelming. You want to go home. You should have taken the offer.  

Johnny and you sort of patched things up, but you didn't hear the first half of his speech. Too busy with the other one occupying your mind. The other one. The other one’s probably eating a salad or gnawing on a steak (he’s doordashed one before.). You really wanted to know about that shoulder. 

Simon just has something that Johnny’s lacking, character, personality, edge? Maybe. 

Yeah Johnny’s a nice guy, he did say he hated the way simon treated you. You hated the way he treated you too. But Simon’s sorry, and he knows he was wrong. He’s holding himself more accountable than you are. Yeah Simon teases him, but that’s their thing, or it was. 

You finally get back. Sitting at your desk with your head in your arms, your head was starting to hurt. You can hear a door open and close, footsteps near your desk, hoping it wasn’t Johnny, you look up and see Simon, relief on your face. “What's wrong?” he asks quickly. “Headache.” you state. “You okay?” Concern on his face, “I’ll be okay.” you smile, “Wanna go home?” he asks again. 

A lightbulb sparks above your head, This would be the perfect time to head home and avoid Johnny all day. “Will I get in trouble for this?” you ask, squinting, “I’m sending you home, so no. you won’t get fired.” he jokes. “I said, in trouble.” you perk up. “I’m joking.” he assures you. 

“Go ahead.” he nods to the door, and you make praying hands to him and he chuckles at your odd behavior.

You gather your things and head home, head pounding from the emotional rollercoaster today.

#supervisor!simon #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost #cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #Simon Riley #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod

[topguncortez]

Speak Now ~ J. Seresin

Hangman Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: Jake gets a wedding invite from the girl he's still in love with. Based off of Speak Now (TV) by Taylor Swift

word count: 4.1k

warnings: cursing, break-ups, runaway bride, miscommunication

Jake knew you probably hated the invites. You had told him over and over that you never wanted a big wedding, you wanted something small. You had agreed with your mom to not just go to the courthouse, but would at least do something a little bigger. Jake ran his fingers over the pale pink paper that was decorated with flowers and had your name and your fiancé’s name written in gold cursive letters. He knew you were somewhere screaming and pulling your hair out.

‘PLEASE JOIN US FOR THE CEREMONY OF MATRIMONY OF Y/N M/N AND BILLY “FRITZ” AVALON’

“Yeah, I just got it,” Jake said to Coyote. He had called his best friend the moment he saw the light pink envelope in his mailbox, “I looked up the address, it’s a church. She always said she wouldn’t get married in a church, she was worried it would burn down around her,”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Javy said, “She must be a different person now, when was the last time you talked to her?”

“I don’t know 2-3 years ago. I heard Bob ask Nat if she had figured out a bridesmaid dress yet,” Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I guess it was for this.”

“Did you expect anything less? They’re best friends.”

Jake shrugged knowing his friend couldn’t see him, “I don’t think I’m gonna go,”

“You can’t do that!”

“Why would I go? To submit myself to the torture of watching her marry someone else? Watching someone else give her the life I couldn’t give her?” Jake said angrily, the images of their last fight filled his mind. He looked over to the front door from his kitchen, the replay of you walking out the door, with your bags packed and tears in your eyes was forever burned into his mind.

“You pushed her away, Jacob. You can only blame yourself for that,” Javy scolded and Jake sighed.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Jake mumbled.

“Well do the true right thing, and go to the wedding, for her. It’ll make her happy to see you there,” Javy said and Jake told him he’d think about it.

Jake sat down on his couch and closed his eyes. Ever since that fateful day, he let you go, he couldn’t fathom thinking about you with someone else. He knew though, he knew you had met someone else, but didn’t know it was Fritz until about a month ago. The two of you waltzed into the Hard Deck, hand-in-hand, smiles on your face. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of it. It made him physically ill to stand there and keep a smile on his face. You had caught only a glimpse of him as he walked out the door. 

Jake pushed himself off of his spot and walked to his room. He pulled down the box that sat on the top shelf of his closet and opened the lid. Pictures, concert tickets, notes, mixed CDs, random t-shirts, and postcards were all packed away in the box. Jake dug to the bottom of the box and pulled out the tiny light blue ring box and opened it. The pear-shaped diamond ring glared up at him in mockery.

———————————————

“Have you ever thought about the future?” You asked him, as you were both relaxing in the bathtub. Jake had a stressful day at work and just wanted to relax. You had made him something to eat and draw a bath.

“Of course,” Jake said, kissing your bare shoulder, “I think about it a lot, what I’m doing next week, or next month, or even next year,”

“Do you ever think of our future?” You asked softly.

“I-I uh, yeah sometimes. But I like where we are,” Jake said and you frowned slightly. You had been with Jake since freshman year of high school, right by his side through it all. From giving up your dream of going to UT, and moving to Maryland while he went to the academy, to waiting with other partners and spouses for him to come off the carrier after a deployment.  You loved Jake, you really did, but you were hoping for more, you wanted more.

“I think about getting married,” You said and sighed into Jake, “Something small, probably in my parents’ backyard on a beautiful summer night. I want that perfect day, where you just wake up and say, ‘Let’s get married’, nothing too crazy. I told my mom I won’t just go to the courthouse.”

“Yeah,” was all Jake could say.

“What?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, “You don’t… you don’t see that?”

“It’s not that I don’t see it, it’s that I don’t want it.”

“Oh,” You nodded. There was a beat of silence, until you pushed yourself up from Jake’s embrace.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jake said reaching out to you as you grabbed your towel.

“The water is getting cold,” You said and dried yourself off, before heading into the bathroom.

Jake cursed himself and got out of the bathtub, grabbing his towel and following you. You sat on the bed and looked at Jake with tears in your eyes. You had this sinking feeling for a while. Like things were bound to break between you. You loved Jake, you really did, and every day it felt like you were falling more in love with him. He always did something new to make you fall in love. Whether it was surprising you with some new recipe, bringing you home your favorite flowers, to sending you postcards from where ever he was in the world. But lately, all that had seemed to stop. You had slowly wondered if maybe, just maybe, Jake wasn’t in love with you anymore.

“Y/N…” Jake said your name softly.

“When did you fall out of love?”

“What-“

“Jake, please,” You asked him, tears now running down your face.

“I love you, Y/N, I really do. But I- My career is just starting to take off. I. . .,” Jake sighed, “I- I don’t want to be holding you back from everything that you want.”

“You don’t want to hold me back, or you don’t want me holding YOU back?”

Jake sighed and looked down at his feet. Truth was, he didn’t want to hold you back. He could see the small changes in you. You had decided to change your major from education to business, something that you insisted was what you wanted. He noticed that your grades had slipped, your GPA the lowest it had ever been. You had spent more time at home, next to him, than hanging out with your friends. Jake didn’t want to hurt you, but he wanted you to follow your dreams, even if that meant having to break his and your heart. Jake took a deep breath and grabbed your hands.

“I’m breaking up with you,” He said and bit the bullet. You closed your eyes and Jake was fighting the urge to wipe the tears from your eyes. A sob left your pink lips and you pulled your hands from his, “I’m sorry-“

“Just shut up, Jake,” You said and pushed yourself up from the bed. You walked into the bathroom and slammed it shut, locking the door behind you. You gripped the sides of the sink and sobbed. Jake listened on the other side of the door as you threw everything off the counter, and could hear the breaking of the mirror as you threw a hairbrush at it. Jake changed into his pajamas and then set some out for you. He wrote a note that he was going to stay at Josh’s for the night.

The next morning you woke up to a cold bed and a pounding headache. You looked around the empty room and sighed. You began with the closet, dumping all your clothes into your suitcase, leaving behind the stuff that Jake had either bought you or gifted you. You packed away all your underwear, socks, and makeup. The apartment slowly became bare as you packed your little trinkets and decorations away. You had hoped to get most of it done before Jake came back, but you weren’t that lucky.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked, walking into the apartment and seeing your bags by the front door.

“My sister’s house,” You said and Jake looked at you confused. This was the first time you had mentioned a sister, and he had been dating you for over 5 years, “You don’t know her, she’s a half-sister,”

“Okay… this is really it?”

“Yeah,” You said softly as you looked down at the item in your hand, a picture from your first date, taken when you were both 13. Your parents wouldn’t let you go alone, so Jake’s older sister and her boyfriend at the time had to tag along. She took the picture and Jake gave it to you as a gift on your first anniversary, “Here,” You handed Jake the picture.

“No, no, keep it.”

“I can’t,” You said, your voice breaking. You placed your hand on Jake’s cheek, and kissed his lips softly, one last time, “Goodbye, Jake. Be good to yourself, okay?”

“I will, Y/N. I love you,”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it back, as you grabbed your bags and walked out the front door. Jake bit his lip as he watched you walk out the door and out of his life.

———————————-

You looked half dead, as you sat in the makeup chair, bright and early on your wedding day. You had tried to go to sleep, but you tossed and turned the whole night. You had thought about running away, getting your car, and driving off to god knows where, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead, you took some melatonin and slept for about 4 hours, until Natasha burst through your door with her unusually high amount of energy. You were just happy she brought you red bull and donuts.

“You look like shit?” Natasha said as she poured you a mimosa.

“I feel like it,” you reached your hand out for the glass.

“Oh my god,” She said and pulled the glass back, “Are you pregnant?!”

“No!” You yelled, “Give me the damn drink,”

“Fiesty,” She laughed and handed you the glass, “I steamed your dress, it’s hanging up in the bathroom,”

“Thank you,” You answered, “The boys?”

“I talked to Billy’s brother, Steven, he said they are up and moving. But, if you were wondering Rooster said that they are ALL on their way,”

“He’s coming?”

Natasha gave you a small smile and nodded, before going over to where the rest of your bridesmaids were. You looked up at your makeup artist and smiled as she placed false eyelashes on your eyes. You had tried to keep yourself from shaking with anxiety over seeing Jake, but you couldn’t help it. You had brushed it off as wedding day jitters. For the rest of the morning, you and your bridesmaids drank and ate a light breakfast that your parents had provided. You had a photographer taking pictures of you guys as you got ready. The bridesmaid dresses you had picked were emerald green, and you let them pick their own design. You sucked in a breath, as Natasha zipped the back of your dress. You stared at yourself in the mirror, and could hardly recognize the person in the mirror. The dress you and Billy had picked out was a classic style dress, with a deep v-cut, lace sleeves that went down to your wrists, and an open back. Billy said you looked like Princess Kate, but you felt more like Princess Di.

“Absolutely breathtaking,” Natasha said and You smiled, trying to make yourself feel better, “They want a first look. You okay with that?”

“I mean, Billy picked the dress out, so why not,”

Natasha smiled and walked out of the bedroom. You blinked and stared up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. You took a deep breath and then headed out of the bathroom. You looked up from your shoes to be shocked by the 3 men standing in front of you, one noticeably missing.

“Well god damn, Y/N, you can clean up nicely,” Javy said You laughed and walked over and hugged him.

“Like our very own princess,” Bob said.

“Thank you,” You said looking at all of them. You could feel a certain pair of blue eyes burning into you, “I can’t believe you guys actually came!”

“Well, my girlfriend is your maid of honor,” Javy said, putting his arm around Natasha’s waist.

“She’s the best maid of honor I could ask for,” You smiled at her.

“Speaking of which, we gotta get going. Can’t be late for your own wedding,” Natasha said and your face faltered.

“Yeah,” You said hoping none of them noticed the change in your demeanor, of course the oldest twin did.

“Alright, let’s get going okay,” Natasha said and the boys nodded, following her out of the room, all except Bob who hung back a second.

“You look amazing,” Bob said, “He would be here, but he just couldn’t see you quite yet.”

“Thank you, Bob,” You said honestly. He kissed your cheek and then left your room.

“You ready?” Natasha asked, coming back into the room. You nodded and grabbed the champagne bottle that was next to you. Natasha watched with wide eyes as you downed the rest of the bottle, “Liquid courage?”

“If I do something dumb, you promise to support me?”

Natasha squinted her eyes at you, “Depends on what dumb thing you’re thinking about doing.”

“We’ll have to see,”

The church was decorated beautifully, white roses and emerald green flowers were mixed in and decorated the altar. Javy sat on Jake’s right and Rooster on the left. Jake’s eyes were locked on his shoes as Billy and his parents made their way down the aisle. Rooster nudged him as your mom and brother made their way down the aisle. Your mom sent Jake a warm smile, making his heart beat faster in his chest. The look in her eyes was one that Jake had seen far too often. 

‘That should be you.’

“What if I stop the wedding?” Jake asked Javy.

“Don’t even think about it Jacob,” Javy whispered harshly.

“You saw how unhappy she is!” 

“She’s nervous, it’s her damn wedding day!” Javy snapped. 

“Stop, Natasha is walking down,” Bob said noticing his WSO walking down with your fiancé’s brother. Natasha winked at the boys, as she took her spot right next to wear you would stand at the alter. 

Jake’s heart fell to his ass as he heard that oh-so-familiar wedding march and everyone stood up, to look to the back of the church. The doors opened Jake’s breath caught in his throat. You were breathtaking, the dress hugging your body perfectly. Jake couldn’t help but wish that was for him. Your eyes were locked on Billy, as tears left his eyes. You had tried to dig deep in your heart and remember why you were going to marry him, but everything was drawing up a blank. The aisle felt like it was miles long, and you hated everyone’s eyes on you. When you got to the end of the aisle, Billy stepped down to take you from your father.

“Who gives this woman, to this man?” The priest asked.

“Her mother, and I,” Your dad said. He turned to you and hugged you, “Jake is here,” You went to move your head to look for him but your dad kept you from moving, “Make the right choice,” You nodded and kissed his cheek before pulling back and stepping up on the altar.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you maybe be seated,” The priest said and You handed Natasha your bouquet, your eyes searching the crowd of people, and finally landing on those familiar brown eyes, “Welcome, we are gathered here today to witness the symbolic ceremony of love between these two young people, Y/N M/N L/N and Billy Fritz Avalon. Is there anybody who believes that these two shouldn’t be married, speak now or forever hold your peace,”

Y/N closed her eyes and waited for someone to say something. Jake was about to stand before Javy grabbed his arm and held him down. He looked at his wingman with wide eyes, but the boy just shook his head and pointed toward you. Jake looked at you and locked eyes with him, as the priest was reading some passage about marriage and what it means in the Bible. Jake could read it in your eyes, you were really going through with this. Jake saw his window of opportunity finally close and the stages of grief started settling in his chest. He leaned back against the pew and tried to keep from crying.

“Billy, do you take Y/N, to have and to hold, to honor and treasure, to be at her side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times and bad, in sickness and health, for rich or for poor, to love and cherish her always until the moment of your last breath?”

“I do,” Billy said giving your hand a squeeze.

“Y/N,” The priest said, basically startling you, “Do you take Billy, to have and to hold, to honor and treasure, to be at his side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times and bad, in sickness and death, for rich or for poor, to love and cherish him always until the moment of your last breath?”

You looked at the priest and then at Billy, “I…,” You quickly glanced over to Jake, whose green eyes were locked on you. You swallowed and looked back at Billy, “I-” 

“No,” A voice from the crowd spoke. You snapped your head towards the audience, seeing Jake standing up and the look of shock on everyone’s face. 

“Hangman, what the,” Billy asked, dropping your hands and turning towards him.

“You never wanted to get married in a Church,” Jake said, pushing past Rooster and Bob, to stand in the middle of the aisle, “You said the church of Elvis was fine, but nothing like. . . this,” Jake gestured around, “You want the wedding where you wake up and say ‘let’s get married’. You want to eat hot dogs and mac’n’cheese in your parents’ backyard and light off fireworks.” 

Tears gathered in your eyes as Jake stepped closer to you, and you took a step down from the altar. 

“You want to jump off the dock at the lake house in your wedding dress because the lake has good luck in it and you believe in that stuff,” Jake licked his lips, “This isn’t you. . .” You nodded and Jake wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, “What do you say? Wanna get out of here?” 

“Yes please,” You said, as you grabbed Jake’s hand. The church erupted in chaos as the two of you ran towards the doors. 

“The hell did you say to her!?” Your mom asked your father, hitting him lightly on the chest.

“I just told her to make the right choice,” Your dad said smugly, “Never liked Buster anyway.”

“It’s Billy!”

You and Jake were bursting with laughter as you sprinted to his car. Jake had helped gather your dress in the car, before shutting the door carefully and jumping into the driver’s seat. Neither of you guys said anything as you drove away from the church. You weren’t sure where you were driving to, and it honestly didn’t matter. You looked over at Jake, who had a smile on his face as he grabbed your hand, and kissed your knuckles. 

But suddenly, the fate of the decision hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“Stop the car,” You said. 

Jake looked over at you, “What?” 

“Stop the damn car!” You yelled. Jake complied and pulled the car over, putting it in park. You got out instantly, running towards the woodline, the soft rain falling on you. Jake watched as you tried to catch your breath. He walked to the other side of his BMW, and leaned against the passenger door as you paced. 

“I ran away,” You said eyes wide. You turned to face him, “I just ran away from the altar!”

“Yes, you did,” Jake nodded. 

“A-and because of you!” You yelled.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said, honestly. Guilt was swimming in his green eyes as you looked at him. He looked as bad as you felt. His suit was wrinkled, his hair slightly a mess from running his hands through it, his five o’clock shadow settling on his face. 

“Why? Why did it take you so long?” You asked and Jake looked at you. 

“I was scared,” He admitted, “I was scared of coming back and ruining what you had built. You went back to education, got your degree, you’re living your dream, and I…. I didn’t want to get in the way again.” 

You shook your head and walked up to him. You grabbed his hand, “Dance with me,”

Jake nodded and turned up the car radio. The sweet sound of Aretha Franklin’s Natural Woman’ filled your eardrums. Jake grabbed you softly and pulled you into him as he swayed with you in the moonlight. You guys lost track of time, as one song faded into the other, and you were both soaked, your dress was ruined.

“Your dress,” Jake said, looking at the dirty train, “I’m sorry, I’ll pay,”

“No, don’t worry about it,” You said and placed your hands on Jake’s face.

Jake’s rough hands carefully gripped the side of your face and pulled his lips against yours. For the first time in nearly 2 years, you were feeling his lips on yours again. You pulled him against you, wanting him to never let you go. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. You two didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to. It was clear, you had made the right choice.

“Marry me,” Jake said and you looked up at him. He reached into his wet suit jacket and pulled out the blue box, “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, I had this stashed away for the perfect moment but I just got scared. I didn’t want you to put your dreams on the back burner for me, so I let you go.”

“Jake, you dumbass,” You said, “You are my dream.”

“You’re mine too, I can’t believe I almost lost you to-”

“Shh, you have me now.”

“Marry me, please?” Jake asked getting down on one knee. You smiled and tackled him to the ground. He landed with a thud and laughed as he kissed you passionately. You pulled back and slid the ring that was already on your finger, and replaced it with the one Jake had for you, “Looks better.”

“Much better.” You said kissing him again.

3 weeks later, you woke up one morning to a cold bed, but the covers messed up. You looked out the window, seeing the sun shining and making everything glow warmly. You stretched and headed down to your kitchen, where Jake was already making dinner. You greeted him with a kiss and sat down at the table to eat the vegan pancakes he had made.

“We should get married today,” Jake suggested, “Javy got ordained online a couple of months ago and has been itching to use it.”

“My dad’s got a new dinner recipe he wants to try.” You said sipping your orange juice.

“Then it’s settled,” Jake smiled, “Let’s get married today,”

And that’s exactly what you two did. You sent out a text message for everyone to be at your house by 6 for your wedding. Nobody questioned It, knowing this was exactly what you and Jake wanted. Everyone gathered in your backyard, dressed causally for a summer backyard wedding. Jake stood barefoot in the grass as he waited for you to walk out of the house, in a simple white maxi sun dress. Javy was living for this moment to be the official of a wedding, and what better than to be one at his best friend’s wedding?

“Now, we can actually do this right this time,” Javy said winking at you.

“Jake, do you take Y/N-“

“Yes,” Jake said interrupting his brother.

“I have to say the speech, Jacobl,” Javy scolded and everyone chuckled, “Y/N, do you take Jake-“

“I do!” You answered by doing the same.

“You guys are so impatient,” Javy smiled, “Well, by the power vested in me by some officiating website and the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jake, you may now kiss your bride,”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,”

You giggled as Jake smashed his lips against yours. Cheers were let out from your family as he dipped you and sealed the deal with a kiss. He set you back on your two feet and grabbed your hand, walking you down the makeshift aisle, finally as husband and wife.

taglist: @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @callsignharper @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignartemis @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @toobouquet @dreamgirl3300 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #Jake seresin #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x you #Jake seresin x y/n #Jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman #hangman fan fic #hangman fan fiction #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n

[loraliewritesthings]

Concept: inspired by @bluerosefox and they're work about danny demanding the jokers soul. I wanted to write the joker and Danny's interactions too.

Danny groaned as the next set of paperwork was slipped onto his desk.

Joker would soon croak.

He would slip on his own banana peel and fall down the stairs.

Gothem would celebrate that night with alcohol and music. The ghost zone would brace itself for the trial...

Honestly it was bound to happen. It wasn't that danny was surprised. But it would be a long drawn out case. When a human dies they become more of what they are after all.

It's like their souls are condensed to make up their ghostly form. As if their passions were their hearts.

For some that was amazing. Fiery passion can be useful in all sorts of situations, but for joker this would be a nightmare come true.

The ghost looked at him his eyes worried, almost teary.

"Should I alarm the Gothamites of the infinite realms."

Danny thought for a minute, let out a low hum, and thought some more.

He knew what he could do in theory.

If he was to judge the jokers soul in the room that he dies in, the ghost zone would be free from his wrath.

But if the joker defeated him in combat he shuddered at what that monster would do with all the power in the afterlife.

He didn't really think joker could take him down, but knowing others thought the same for him and his predecessor....

So Danny was left with one option.

"Call my knights," he commanded

The fright knight was captain. Head of the army and keeper of the soul shredder.

Danny only needed to borrow it, but when he explained the predicament the ghost dropped to his knees, the metal clang sound echoed through the office. The fright knight began to speak,

"You wish to spare me from looking into the eyes of evil, and I thank you my liege. But I can not and shall not send you alone to your second death."

Danny told him to rise to get off the dirty floor, but he continued.

"As captain of the guards my liege is only under my obligation to the knights under me."

Danny remembered the conversation that made that a possibility. That changed the priority of obligation completely and totally, hopefully for once and for all.

Danny hid a small smile and told him to get of the floor again

............

It didn't take long to find joker amoung the living. He was surrounded by weeping souls unable to move on.

Danny clutched his scale. A gift from clockwork, to a "good and fair king to continue to strive to be better."

Clockwork had, in the end taken up the role of advisor. As such he stood by Danny's right side, his captain to the left.

When they entered the room he was already dead.

The soul of the man was laughing hysterically.

He got louder when he spotted them.

Danny sighed and despite the noise tried to read him his rights.

He argued with each and every one in nonsensical logic.

The third time Danny slapped him across his ghostly face, leaving frostbite and cold crystals on his white cheek.

"I am not batman, I am death. I will not play as he does, I am the ghost king, death himself."

After the rights were read Danny peared into his soul, sticky and tar like, it made him feel ill. He put on the extra gauntlet brought and separated the dead from his deeds.

It felt like lifting a semi, and weighed him down about a foot.

The joker cackled with pride. Danny wondered if he didn't understand the gravity of the situation, or if he didn't care.

Then with the other hand he did the same to himself.

Both sets of deeds were set on the scale at the same time. Danny barely caught the peice of his own ghostly form.

The scale broke the table on its way down, jokers sludgelike, corrupted deeds stuck to it. The scale hadn't twitched once to the other side.

The knights went to pick up the piece of soul and put it back. It took three of them.

Danny put his deeds back were they belonged.

When everything was dead and done, joker was declared guilty and chained down, something he escaped out the window and around the block to avoid.

Danny took out the soul shredder.

It wasn't the fright knights job to play executioner.

Then the joker was blindfolded, he made this difficult via attempted biting, but once it was done, it was done.

Danny didn't ask for a last word.

He took the sword and swung as he had been taught. And as the jokers very soul was torn, the bells rang in Gotham for the first time in Years.

He didn't miss.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #ghost king danny dc #headcanon #dc #i really wanted to give joker an unclimactic death #joker #dc x dp #crossover #danny phantom crossover #ghost king au #ghost king danny #soul shredder #good king danny #king danny #king danny phantom #fright knight #loralie is annoying #good king danny who would rather not traumatise more souls #clockwork #the ghost zone #the infinite realms #dc headcanon #dc fanfic #danny phantom headcanon #danny phantom fanfiction

[nataliawrites]

I keep thinking about Pierre Gasly and a shy reader who likes to read and paint. While he's the complete opposite of a party boy

Opposites Attract // Pierre Gasly

Four times your friends thought your relationship was doomed to fail and one time they finally understood otherwise.

One

A group of sweaty men made their way out of the grinding crowd on the dance floor and, with a lack of grace lending itself to plenty of drinks and the leftover adrenaline of a Grand Prix, shakily made their way up the stairs to the VIP area.

Among them, sprawled lazily in the extended booth they now occupied, a certain Monégasque turns to his best friend like a gossiping school girl, “that blonde was totally into you.”

The French best friend in question raises an eyebrow, “well I totally wasn’t into her.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Pierre?”

“I’m still me, Charles.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Up until a few months ago you would’ve never turned down someone as ehm well endowed as her.”

Pierre rolls his eyes, “up until a few months ago I wasn’t in a loving relationship.”

“A loving relationship in which your girlfriend stays in your hotel room while you party all night long?”

“What does it matter? Y/N gets anxious and this isn’t really her scene. She knows I would never do anything to hurt her or our relationship and she trusts me.”

“She should be here supporting you.”

“She does support me. Tirelessly. And I do the same in return by making sure she’s not forced into situations that make her uncomfortable.”

When they return to their hotel in the early hours of the morning, fairing none too well after a night of endless partying, Charles can’t help but peak into the suite that Pierre and you were sharing after Pierre was too drunk to properly shut the door.

You were still up despite the ridiculously late hour and reading a lengthy book using the warm light of a lamp on your nightstand.

Charles watches through the crack as you carefully mark your place in the novel and get out of bed to greet your inebriated boyfriend.

“Hi, Pear.”

Pierre leans in to give you a messy kiss, missing your lips almost entirely, “hello, mon coeur. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, love. There’s some painkillers and water by your toothbrush. And I put your boxers by the clean towels for after you shower quickly.”

“I need help.”

“Help with what?”

“Help me shower,” Pierre whines softly, “pleeeeeaaaasssseee.”

“Okay, you big baby. Let’s get you washed.”

Charles hurriedly shut the door when Pierre went to drop his pants.

Two

You paced up and down the gallery, hands linked in front of you to stop their shaking … mostly. It was your first public art exhibition and the tremendous milestone meant stepping far outside your comfort zone and into a social setting to show off your hard work.

Your eyes ran over the paintings carefully hanging on the walls for the hundredth time. They were perfect. The result of pouring your entire soul into the images that flowed from your hands and onto the canvas. Everything would be perfect. Almost everything, that is.

“How sucky that your boyfriend couldn’t be here for you.”

You turn around to face a classmate and friend from art school, “it’s not his fault. He has a job to do.”

Your boyfriend of nearly a year was going to have to miss the exhibition not matter how much you knew he wished he could be here to support you. But Formula 1 waits for no one and he was stuck on the other side of the world among the chaos that came with a race weekend.

“I’m just saying,” she throws her hands up defensively, “what about his job as your boyfriend?”

“Pierre does that daily, thank you for your concern. His attention to me whenever he isn’t actively working more than makes up for the time he dedicates to racing.”

You move to turn back around but stop and about-face, “and his dedication and passion to that part of his life are part of the reason I love him.” Then you finally spin on your heel and go back to surveying your work for any imperfections.

You were broken out of your thoughts as the curator lightly tapped your shoulder, having been ignored when she quietly called your name while you were lost in your own head.

“Miss Y/N, there’s a delivery for you. Shall I tell them to bring it in?”

A delivery? You were fairly certain you didn’t order anything though with how anxious you were as the exhibition approached, maybe you did and just forgot about it.

“Of course! So sorry. They can put it down wherever there’s space.”

You watch in shock as courier after courier after courier after courier filed their way into the gallery and places overflowing vases of every flower under the sun on the floor before going back outside and returning with even more bouquets.

When you can barely see the tile floors and the gallery looks more like a botanical garden than a low-key space to showcase art, one of the couriers approaches you and hands you a card.

I wish I could be there celebrating your achievements with you. I am so incredibly proud of you and all that you’ve managed to do. I will be carrying a little bit of you with me when I race tonight.

Love you always,

PG

You can’t stop the tears that threaten to overflow when you spot the small photo of a print of your favorite painting tucked carefully into his helmet that was taped to the card.

Your classmate makes her way into the atrium again, “Five minutes till showtime! Oh my god? Who robbed a florist.”

“No robbing,” you laugh, “just Pierre being Pierre.”

Three

Pierre excitedly opens the door to welcome his friends from around the grid into his Milan apartment for their annual visit after the Italian Grand Prix.

“Hey, guys! Come in. Y/N just went to the market to quickly get some fresh fruit.”

The group of drivers files into the foyer and stop just short of smacking into each other as they stop and take in the apartment around them.

When Pierre bought the apartment a few years ago, he immediately hired a top interior designer to take care of all the decorating. Since then, the place he called home was sleek and modern and even whiter than his AlphaTauri race suit. Nothing like the apartment his friends were currently staring at with open mouths.

This apartment was a controlled chaos of colors that should not have gone together but somehow did. The walls were lined with paintings and photographs and little hanging plants that the interior designer would have fainted at. The ceiling of the entry way had a rather impressive recreation of the Sistine Chapel ceiling … with cats instead of humans.

“This is … wow.”

“I know! Isn’t it amazing? Y/N did it all herself after she finally moved in,” Pierre gushed.

“It’s definitely unique.”

“It just feels so much more like home, you know? It took a while for her to finally believe me when I told her I wanted her to redecorate but now we both love spending time here whenever we can.”

The boys exchange wide-eyed glances as Pierre rambles on and on about all of the changes that you made. What happened to the luxurious party boy who barely remembered the names of the women that graced his bed? Since when did Pierre Gasly spend five minutes describing how you painstakingly crocheted a throw blanket to perfectly match your new couch? The mark you made on him was becoming just as clear as the mark you made on his your home.

Four

It was cruel, really. With Pierre’s home Grand Prix being left off the schedule, you had promised to join him in Austin instead. Art school was relatively flexible and you didn’t anticipate any issues taking a week off to fly to Texas.

Until a teacher suddenly announced a project that had to be completed in class during the week you were meant to be at the United States Grand Prix.

You tried to hide a sniffle as you explain that you won’t be able to support him in person to Pierre over the phone during your lunch break. You stare at your salad, pushing the greens around as any appetite escaped you.

“It’s not worth your tears, mon coeur,” Pierre’s soothing accent cracks through your speaker. “Do not even worry about it. I promise that I will take care of everything.”

You see your classmate drop into the seat next to you and wave as you finish your conversation with Pierre.

“Hi! What’s-”

“Were you seriously planning to miss a week of school to go on vacation with your boyfriend?”

“It’s not exactly a vacation.”

Your friend rolls his eyes, “Semantics. You were going to fly halfway across the world and miss a week’s worth of classes for him. He’s been a bad influence on you. You would have never dreamed about skipping even a day of class before you got together with him.”

“Being in a relationship has made me reevaluate my priorities,” you explain. “Don’t get me wrong — I love art and school is important but nothing beats being there for the people you love.”

“Whatever,” he sighs, “no use talking about it now. There’s no way you’re getting out of doing the project to go on your trip. Might as well cancel your tickets now.”

“Pierre said he’ll take care of the class so I’m not giving up hope yet.”

“Right … the second you get excused from the project is the second that pigs fly.”

You didn’t know which of you was more shocked when your boyfriend walked into the room like he owned it halfway through class the next day. He beelined towards your teacher with a purpose and you tore your attention away from the unfinished painting in front of you to watch as they talked. You can’t make out what they’re saying but see Pierre gesturing towards you and then slipping an envelope into your teacher’s hands when he gets a nod. They shake hands and Pierre makes his way to you.

He pecks your lips as your classmates’ eyes all turn to you, “Done. You’ll have an extra week to finish the project under supervision when you get back from America.”

“No way! How?”

“All it took was two paddock passes to Imola next season.”

“You’re actually the best, Pear. I love you so much.”

“Not more than I love you.” He turned to leave, “I’ll pick you up for dinner later?”

“Can’t wait, love.”

As the class dispersed an hour later, you couldn’t help bumping into your friend, “guess pigs learned to fly, huh?”

+ One

It wasn’t until the following season that his friends finally realized that you and Pierre were meant to be. You flew out to Belgium with him, knowing that Spa was especially hard for him emotionally and wanting to be there for your boyfriend. The morning of race day, you joined Pierre and the rest of the grid as they went to pay respects to Anthoine Hubert. You watched as various drivers left flowers and cards and stepped forward after they were done.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know that I never met Anthoine but I feel like I know him through all the stories Pierre tells and wanted to leave something to honor him too,” you pull a canvas out of your tote and kneel down to place it against the fence.

There’s silence as the men around you take in the portrait of a smiling Anthoine that you left among the flowers and wreaths.

Pierre pulls you in for a hug and you hold him tight as you feel your shoulder grow wet from his tears, “thank you, mon coeur. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Pierre’s friends take in the sight of the two of you lost in your embrace. Maybe you’re not who they imagined Pierre would end up with but turns out that you’re exactly what he needs.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #f1 fanfiction #f1blr #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #pierre gasly #pg10 #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fluff #alpha tauri #scuderia alphatauri

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 15

The Tenth Doctor doesn't know what grand larceny is, but he thinks it sounds fun.

To the Delphon, the surgical removal of limbs is incredibly sexually alluring.

Brian Williams continues to look after the Pond residence to this day in case Amy and Rory ever return.

Mortimus once asked Ushas out and was so harshly rejected that he then believed she wasn't interested in dating anyone at all. This made him oblivious to the relationship that eventually developed between Ushas and Magnus.

The Silver Doctor is an automaton modeled after the Eighth Doctor. This automaton can sing, play the trumpet, and reveal dark secrets about the future.

The music the Fifth Doctor played on the harp to access the Time Scoop is called Rassilon’s Lament.

The Time Lord Letters is a collection of historical documents written by the Doctor throughout their life.

This collection includes a message from Theta Sigma to Borusa about a perigosto stick accident, a letter to Marie Antoinette prior to her execution, a message from the Fifth Doctor concerning a missing aircraft to the Airport Controller, a "Thank you for having me" note from the Eleventh Doctor to Craig Owens, and many, many more.

The Doctor has luck manipulation abilities.

The Master has literally tripped over the Fourth Doctor’s scarf before.

The Master was also once kneed in the groin by the Rani while in the same body (that body went through a lot, poor little cheetah man).

The Doctor was invited to the Rani's 94th birthday party.

When they were young, the Doctor collected blown glass bottles made from sand from different planets. The reason the Fifth Doctor and Peri went to Androzani Minor was because he lost his Androzani bottle and wanted another.

Donna sometimes purposefully gets pear ice cream, so she doesn't have to share with the Doctor.

A TARDIS will assault the mind of anyone but their Time Lord and the Time Lord’s familiars.

Ace lost her virginity to Sabalom Glitz.

The Master stole the Loom of Rassilon's Mouse in an attempt to weave himself a new body.

Regeneration was never meant to be an emergency procedure.

The Eighth Doctor once stole a NASA space shuttle.

Borusa has regenerated due to a falling stack of books, an unfortunate incident resulting from a misplaced decimal point, and a toenail infection.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

#doctor who #dr who #dw #new who #classic who #eighth doctor #fifth doctor #peri brown #ace mcshane #the master #borusa #the rani #fourth doctor #ushas #magnus #mortimus #tenth doctor #amy pond #rory williams #brian williams #tardis #donna noble #eleventh doctor #third doctor #theta sigma #craig owens #time-flight #the lodger #looms #rassilon

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 1

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 5.3k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: Don't be scared to click the embedded links, you might get an auditory surprise (Ai voice cloning works wonders)

Past (i) - You

[15 & 16] - THE CAPITOL

Pine is a simple wood. It grows in abundance, representing purity and innocence. In Eleven, it’s saved for children. Children like Cane. Only thirteen years old, but at the end of his life. He died in the initial bloodbath from a knife in the heart, you saw it yourself as you were running away. You had made eye contact with him for a split second and had contemplated waiting for him behind one of the many buildings encased by overgrown greenery. But, within the next second, those eyes had clouded over and cannon fire rang in your ears.

He looks so small in his pine casket, you note. The pale shade of his little brown face is the only giveaway that he isn’t sleeping.

His parents come to stand before him, withdrawn in their grief for their youngest child. They each place a fruit in his hand: a pear in his left, and an apple in his right. One for himself and another to share with whoever comes to take his soul.

Neem, his brother, holds up his sister Venus, the youngest girl. She is distraught, wails bouncing through the clearing. Their oldest sibling, Vera, hadn’t been permitted to leave the fields to come to the burial.

Chrysanthemums represent death, mourning, life, and goodbyes. Roses represent life, grief, and sadness. You watch as the adults of the town move in to help his family cover him head to toe in the petals. A few of these flowers are shipped to the Capitol to be used aesthetically, you’re sure. Such an odd thought knowing the rest are used here only for funerals.

You can’t help but think about how close you came to being the one under all those flowers. You imagine your mom having to place the fruits in your hands by herself. The hand on your shoulder keeps you pinned in place as Venus’s knees buckle. Your mom squeezes you to her side and you look at her tightened face. You aren't the only one imagining it.

The grave has already been dug and above it sits his headstone, a rock bigger than both of your hands combined with his initials and his age carved into it.

C. B.

13

You stare at that rock long after they put him in the ground and cover him in dirt. At the end of the ceremony, all of the children in attendance get in line to hug the family. This one is no different. You’re only fifteen, but you’ve been to many funerals. Only one stands out: your dad’s. 

You remember being ten and getting irritated at how sticky the pomegranate juice made your hands, but you preferred it to the painful lump in your throat. You had to be lifted so you could place the fruit in his cold hands and you don’t think your mom put you down after, holding you close to her chest as the town’s children hugged you.

You’re at the back of the line nervously picking at your nail beds. There’s a certain amount of guilt tied to being the one who survived, especially in the face of the grieving family. You haven’t spoken to them since you got back a month ago—it took a while for the Capitol to return his body—but you know they don’t blame you. That’s just not the way people think in Eleven. You don’t turn against your own.

You’re nervous because you have a bigger part to play other than offering condolences and you promised Cane you’d complete it.

Before you go in to hug his father, you speak.

“I, uh, have something for you.” You pull a small bear figurine out of your pocket, crudely carved from wood. “Cane, he gave it to me to give to his family the night before we went into the arena. Just in case I managed to come back.” Something neither of you had any real hope of happening, but you understood the gesture for what it was. He wanted you to bring him back to his family. So you protected it with your life, literally. 

And now he’s home.

And that’s what cracks them, you think. His mom’s lips quiver and his dad makes a pained noise when you place it in his shaking grip. And Neem, who has tried to stay strong for his family, gasps around a sob. Venus pulls you into a hug, tears dripping onto your neck.

A breeze comes through, shaking the leaves in the tree and cooling you from the humid heat. You like to think that it’s Cane’s way of thanking you for not forgetting him.

-

“Your accent is just darling. Say something else, say something else!” The woman in front of you exclaims. You can’t remember her name, but you’re pretty sure she never introduced herself to you anyway. In fact, you don’t think anyone has introduced themselves to you.

"Like what?"

"Like what?" They mock your voice, clapping like you’re a dog that did a trick. You smile around the embarrassment. Maybe for your next act, you’ll play dead. "Oh, that is just a treat."

You've officially been the winner of the sixty-seventh Hunger Games for six months and thirteen days. It's the end of your Victory Tour and all you have to do is tolerate the Capitols poking and prodding at you until the night is over. Though, that's easier said than done. 

You remind yourself to make a conscious effort to bury the accent, sound a little more like them. The old you wouldn’t give a damn about how a Capitol perceives you, but the old you didn’t get pawed at nearly as much as you have tonight.

Your dress cinches at your waist uncomfortably. The heels you were forced into press painfully into the calluses on your feet, and you've eaten so many pastries that your jaw aches. Foreign hands pat at your hair, stroking and pulling at the curls as you recount for the fifth time how you escaped the tributes from District Five. 

"I climbed to the top of a building and jumped between rooftops while they looked for me on the ground—" 

“Skip to the part where you get your scythe!” Someone yells from the crowd, cutting you off. You purse your lips and bite your tongue so hard that you taste metal.

"Alright. Two days in, I was…gifted a scythe from a sponsor—" 

"And you used it beautifully!" Another person calls from your left. 

"Yes, that move you pulled off against that poor boy from Nine was simply marvelous!" A voice shouts from behind you. You remember him. How could you forget? The "move" you pulled off wasn't intentional. As a warning, you swung your scythe in wide arches, but he ran at you and the blade slit his stomach open. You think he did it on purpose, knowing how it would end for him. You put him out of his misery with his own knife. 

He was the first person you killed in the arena. The first thing you had ever killed.

You bite into a muffin, and it tastes like ash on your tongue. 

You try to ignore the multiple hands on your shoulders, arms, and neck; all moving to touch any bare skin they can reach. But it's hard to ignore soft hands that have never known a day of work. Much different from your own calloused palms, made rough from your days of harvesting crops and climbing high in trees to pick fruit. 

You keep quiet as they talk at you, never actually trying to engage you in the conversation. You grimace as a hand touches your face. 

"God, you are stunning—isn't she stunning?" A taller man smiles down at you with golden teeth, moving your face this way and that with his sharp nails. 

"Oh, just gorgeous! Who knew they were hiding such a diamond in the Agriculture district, of all places?" The group breaks out in howling laughter, as if the very notion of something worthwhile coming out of District Eleven is outlandish. Somehow, both a joke at your expense and one they expect you to join in on. 

You're willing to bet all of your earnings that none of these people have the slightest idea about life in Eleven, what it's like to be truly hungry. Children are being hung for stealing food and here they are, gorging themselves just to throw it all up. You're shaken by the thought that you are completely alone here. Forced to endure the abrasive attention of the Capitol residents until they grow bored with you. You contemplate how easy it would be to escape. You aren't sure how much longer you can go with people petting you like a domesticated animal. Maybe, if you make yourself sick from drinking those vomit-inducing drinks, you could make a strategic retreat with minimal fuss. "Excuse me, ladies, gentlemen," a smooth voice breaks through the crowd before a lithe body follows. The man—or boy, rather—is tall, all tan skin and sun-bleached-hair. Every eye falls on him as soon as he steps up, and you can understand why. Finnick Odair. He's objectively attractive; beautiful, even. You can tell from the brazen way he holds himself that he already knows that. Pink lips are settled in a smug smirk, but they don't take away from his eyes. If you were a writer, you could have authored a thousand and one poems about those eyes alone. "You wouldn't mind me stealing tonight's guest of honor for a dance, would you?" It's quiet, and the crowd looks at each other. They clearly don't want to give you up—their brand-new toy. But who can say no to Finnick Odair? Exclaims of oh, certainly and of course are called out before he comes to stand in front of you. Someone pulls the saucer of miniature cakes and cookies from your death grip and you feel bare before him. You had seen him two years ago during his games. Then, six months after that he came to Eleven for his Victory Tour, apologizing to the families of people he didn't know nor care about. He was just another pretty Career laughing and being gushed over on Caesar Flickerman's couch, pretty low on your list of priorities. But now—well, it was one thing to see him on screen, it was another to be in front of him. It's a lot like standing in front of the ocean, you imagine. You had seen it secondhand, through train windows and simulated in arenas, but nothing could prepare you to see it in person. He doesn't push you to take his hand, just holds it out in front of him like he has all the time in the world. Like he knows you'll take it, eventually. The temptation to reject him is strong. You’d pay money to see the look on his and everyone else's faces if you said no and walked away. 

You reach forward and a callused palm meets your own. You trust him as much as you do everyone else vying for your attention here, but he's the lesser of two evils. You tense up as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself to be surrounded. But he doesn't lead you to the center of the dancing mass like you thought he would. Instead, you both linger on the edge, barely close enough to be a part of the crowd. He faces you and asks, "May I have this dance?" Overly formal in a way that nobody else here has been with you. 

"We're already here, aren't we?" You say as if you weren’t just contemplating leaving him behind. You step closer to him as the band starts a new song, your right hand holding his left and the other on his shoulder. His free hand lays on your waist, a fraction above the slit on the side of your dress. 

“Have you been having fun?” He picks, certainly nonexistent, lint off the shoulder of your dress. Is your eye twitching? It has to be. You want to place a hand on it to tamp down the spasms, but, instead, your nails dig into his shoulder through his suit jacket.

“What? Are you not enjoying your time in our great nation's capitol?” He deadpans. Your mouth tries to twitch into a smirk and you smother it down. 

You narrow your eyes. “What’re your thoughts on lying?”

He inhales slowly, head tilting side to side contemplatively. “Depends. Am I the one lying?” You shake your head. He shrugs. “Then, I hate it.”

“Then, I won’t answer,” you shrug back. He lets out a puff of air from his nose, a laugh?

"I'm surprised Seeder isn't here with you. She talked you up a big game, you know. Very confident that you'd win." His eyes sweep over the crowd of dancing couples before settling on you. “Guess, I should have bet on you too, huh?”

You don’t know how you feel about that. Why would Seeder be that confident in a semi-malnourished fifteen-year-old with no combat skills? 

You definitely wouldn’t have bet on yourself. If you were in his shoes, you would’ve put money into one of the Careers. Maybe that one girl from Two—perhaps the most muscular person you’ve ever seen. She was benching at least twice her body weight in the Training Center, but you think it was just an intimidation tactic. Though, a pointless one, since she didn’t even make it out of the Cornucopia. You suppose no amount of muscle can combat an axe to the back of the spine. “I wouldn’t have if I were you. But now that you've actually seen me, do I meet all the expectations she set?” You partially joke. Partially because as much as you hate to admit it, you are curious. Why you’re curious about what he thinks of you will remain a mystery. “Now that I've actually seen you? No,” you look up at him in shock before he grins like a shark, teeth on display. "You exceed them. Don't get me wrong. You were beautiful on screen, but the TV doesn't do you justice." He does little to hide the once-over he gives you. It was meant to be caught. You don't know what to say. You've been excessively complimented and fawned over since you were reaped, but somehow, it felt different coming from him. His gaze felt different. Like he actually saw you. You throw that thought away. Finnick is a known flirt—a playboy. He means nothing by it and neither does the look in his eyes. "She's pregnant. Seeder," you clarify, abruptly changing the topic. “About seven months along. She's resting at the hotel.” Traveling for so long had taken its toll. Not to mention the stress of just being in the Capitol. Snow, the bastard, wouldn't let her stay behind, even though Chaff was willing to take her place as your mentor on the tour. "Ah, congratulations are in order then."  

"Please,” you scoff. “I'm sure you didn't come up to me just to talk about Seeder." Your gaze bounces around his face as you do everything in your power to avoid eye contact with him.

“Why not? I can’t ask about a good friend?” 

“If you’re such “close friends” shouldn’t you have already known she was pregnant?”

“Touché.” He concedes with a nod, his smile still in place. Or at least you think he does. You aren’t entirely sure what touché means. “I came up to you because you looked like you were one more scone away from using it as a weapon." The laugh you let out is a surprise to you both and you have to bite your cheek to stifle it. You haven’t been doing a whole lot of laughing over the past six months.

"Was I that obvious?" He's quiet for a moment as he stares at you and you don't dwell on it. Instead, you focus on the freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. 

You're only a year younger than him and, yet, there's something about him that feels far older than any other sixteen-year-old you've met. The way he carries himself—something sharp-edged hidden under indifference, an alertness in his eyes that you're sure mirrors your own. "To anyone who cared to look," his voice deepens as he hums. It really is smooth. "Definitely." "Am I supposed to believe that the Capitol's darling cares about little ol' me?" "So, you do know who I am." His lips shift into a shit-eating grin, preening as if he caught you in a lie. He’s probably used to people fawning over him, and that’s something you’d never do. Be that as it may, you can acknowledge that there might be something worth fawning over. “Who doesn't?” It’s been two years and people are still talking about his games. And for good reason, you have to admit.

"Touché...again.” He tilts his head with contemplatively narrowed eyes. You narrow your eyes right back simply based on the fact that he did it first. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve—” "Seriously, what're you hoping to achieve here? You've gotta have a motive. Everyone does.” You push, cutting to the chase and sounding more accusatory than you meant to. But, he’s a victor too, right? Maybe you can toe the line here without repercussions waiting on the other side.

"Hmm, blunt. Even you?" He questions, continuing when you nod. "What's your motive for dancing with me, then?"

You could have said no to this dance, but that would’ve meant staying surrounded by them. This, being with Finnick, is a breath of fresh air in comparison. He may not be Eleven or from any other district that’s similar to yours, but he is District. That’s gotta be worth something—some kind of kinship.

"I'd do just about anything to escape those vultures," you pause. Then, feeling emboldened, add, "And I guess you're not terrible to look at." If you were going to be forced to stay here, you might as well find your fun where you can. And talking to Finnick is fun. Undoubtedly, the only fun you've had all night.

"Oh, thank you," he laughs, mirth coloring his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "You know, I was worried about that." 

"Is that so?" You smile, trying, and failing, to not step on his feet. 

"Definitely," he pauses for a second, seemingly deciding on something before answering your question, "It’s just that—you remind me of someone. They got wrapped up in the Capitol; thought they could handle the…” he makes a wide sweeping gesture to the gluttonous pageantry around you and you get it. The extravagance, the theatrics, the Capitol of it all. “But the Capitol asked for more than they were willing to give. And, well...I couldn't save them." His eyes look glazed as he trails off. His face is grim, his smile gone so fast it's almost like it was never there to begin with. You find that you want it back. "And you want to save me?" You guess, heart in your throat.

"Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The people here? Every single one of them wants us. They want to talk to us, touch us, sleep with us," you swallow at the look in his eye. "But they don't see us as people." He leans towards you and you freeze. For a split second, you think he's going to kiss you. That doesn’t scare you. Instead, he hovers by your ear. What would you have done if he had kissed you? You don't think you would've moved away. That scares you. "Me and you," he hums, lips against your ear, "Well, we might as well be a completely different species to them. We're lesser than. Beloved pets at most, tamed beasts at least." 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” You live in Eleven, after all. There’s a reason no one goes looking for the kids that go missing from the fields. According to the people in charge, there’ll always be another to take their place. You sigh through your nose and turn away, but immediately turn back to Finnick when you make eye contact with the smiling man with gold teeth. 

He shakes his head, lips curled into a frown of disgust, "Look at them, the way they linger at the edge of the crowd." The hand on your waist moves to the small of your back as he spins you. "You see how desperate they are to get in your good graces?" You peek over his shoulder at the people watching you, teeming with anticipation. 

"Is that not what you're doing?" You ask, your cheek pressed to his. "Trust me, sweetheart. If I was trying to gain your favor, it'd be somewhere a little more private with a lot less talking." He doesn't give you enough time to reply, not that you know how, before continuing. "I'm doing the same thing I've done since I was reaped," he lowers his voice, almost like he's imparting some kind of secret. To the right person, maybe he is. "Surviving. I'd suggest finding your allies now if you wanna do the same." And then he turns to place a chaste kiss against your cheek. To anyone watching the two of you, it would look like he's just flirting with you. You shiver as he pulls away from you, taking all the warmth with him. He looks down at you for a moment longer, locking you in his gaze. You had never really seen the ocean, you remind yourself, but, through him, you're staring at it now. Vast and limitless. All-consuming. He brings your knuckles to his smooth lips, and he smirks. The urge to shiver is alarmingly strong as his mouth moves delicately against the skin of your knuckles as he begins to speak. "Until next time." You catch the shimmer in his sea-green eyes. It has to mean something, something worth pursuing. You've never known the ocean, but as you watch Finnick walk away into the crowd of adoring Capitols, you think you could grow to like it. There's a drive in him that's rare to see outside of Eleven, let alone in the Capitol, and it further proves your assumption right. There’s a kinship between the districts that only the victors are privy to—you and Finnick might be cut from the same cloth, and that’s made even more apparent by the way the masses move in to surround you both. You jump as trumpets sound around you and a spotlight shines on the balcony. You missed your chance to escape. It's time for Snow's speech. 

Present (I) - You

[23 & 24] - DISTRICT ELEVEN

It’s winter in Eleven. There’s little worse than winter in Eleven. You must have forgotten to close your window when you left in a rush because the air in your room is practically crystallized, and you mull over the idea of igniting your fireplace but decide against it.

Normally, you would go to the Capitol after being invited to a party, your prep team would scrub and shave you from top to bottom, and Snow would introduce you to your client for the night. Then, you would stay in your hotel room and have time to recoup before you left. But, this time, there was no party. Only a very important partner of Snow’s who is not a patient man. So you left in the early morning and made the trip back the next day as the sun was rising. Seven hours there, seven hours back. You’re dead on your feet and your bed has never looked more tempting. You stand before your vanity and grab a makeup wipe, dragging it over your face and revealing the bags under your eyes. You're tired, bone tired. You kick your heels off. You unzip the back of your dress and let it fall to the ground. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you press on one of the bruises littering your neck. You follow the trail to the top of your chest, breast, stomach, and hips. You frown at yourself. What a pitiful painting you make. "It's starting!" Your mom calls from down the hall and you sigh, looking at your bed mournfully. You'd usually avoid Snow's announcements like the plague, you don't want to look at him more than you already have to, but it's different this time. It's the Quarter Quell. The last Quarter Quell had double the amount of tributes, and Haymitch told you how he only won by the skin of his teeth. So, despite yourself, you're curious to see what kind of nightmare Snow comes up with. There's also something else driving you. A man you met in passing at the party. Plutarch Heavensbee. He was strange, but a different kind than you were used to from the Capitols. He's taking the place of Head Gamemaker after Seneca Crane's untimely death. He spoke in riddles, always hinting at things of importance without saying anything at all. And there's a nagging feeling in the back of your mind surrounding something he said. "I understand that there’s a certain kind of…job that President Snow has employed you for. If I told you there was a chance to put an end to it, what would you say?" "I'd say you should cut back on the Morphling." "I assure you, I'm sober," he laughed, "I can't go into detail right now. I just need to know, when the time comes, that I can trust you to fight." Fight. It’s an interesting term, but you wonder if it has the same definition for him as it does for you. You doubt it. Very rarely is there ever any overlap between the way of thinking for Eleven and the Capitol. The people of Eleven fight every day and you’ve heard the other districts have finally picked up on the habit. Riots upon riots upon riots and it’s all thanks to the kids from Twelve. You still can't decipher what he was telling you and you’d usually chalk it up to the regular Capitol jargon. But there was something, something different that you couldn’t put your finger on. 

You throw pajamas on, something soft that won't irritate you, and walk to the living room. "Here: sugar, berries, and licorice root, just the way you like it." Your mom hands you the cup and pretends she doesn't see the marks on your body. You're thankful. She looks tired too, older. "Thank you, Ma." You say, for more than just the tea. "Of, course. Now, sit, sit. He's walking out." You settle gingerly on the couch beside her, sorer than you thought, and pull your legs under you as Snow stands behind a podium. He lets the audience quiet down before beginning. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of The Hunger Games. And it was written in the charter of The Games that every twenty-five years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol." You drink carefully from your cup as he continues, steaming liquid burning the roof of your mouth. "Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell," you place your cup on the table and fidget with your bracelet as Snow pulls a letter from an envelope, "as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol. On this, the third Quarter Quell Games the male and female Tributes are to be reaped—" "No." The hairs on your arms stand on end. You brace for the blow. "—from the existing pool of victors in each district." "No. No, no, no, that's not, that's not right." You shake your head. It doesn't take long for your mom to start sobbing beside you and you…you can't breathe. 

You suck a breath in and it feels like it's being funneled through a filter. Not enough, not nearly enough. Your heart's beating fast, faster, the fastest it’s ever beat and you're getting lightheaded. You stand up on shaking legs and stumble to the door, glass shatters as you knock a vase over in your pursuit. You need more air, you need, you need—you step out onto the snow-covered porch, submerging your bare feet in the white powder. It’s odd, it rarely snows here.

You kneel down and grab fistfuls of snow, smearing the ice on your face and grounding yourself. You breathe and you rationalize. You can breathe. You're taking in frigid lungfuls of air and you are breathing. You stare down the long walkway leading to your home, covered in both ice and snow. Across from that walkway is a cow pasture and past that pasture are woods. Vast and open and if you will it, no one would be able to find you. You wouldn’t be able to leave, not with the giant electric fence surrounding the district, but they wouldn’t find you. 

But Snow could find your mom. 

You stay out there until your feet and hands go numb. And then you stay until it hurts to move your fingers and toes, the skin of your shins and knees prickling with the temperature drop. You stay until your mom drags you in herself. "Let's warm you up." She says, but she's mostly talking to herself. She wraps you in a blanket and sits you on the couch. She goes to the kitchen and comes back with a fresh cup of tea. Saliva gathers in your mouth at the thought of drinking anything, so you use it to warm your hands instead. 

“Oh, look what you’ve done to yourself.” You look to where she’s hovering over the carpet. Red footprints lead from the door to where you are now. You must have stepped on the broken pieces of the vase. You wait for the sting of pain to come now that you’re aware of the wound, but there’s nothing.

“I’ll go get something to clean you up with—”

“Can you just…can you just sit with me?” You ask and look away when you catch her frenzied gaze.

“Yeah, of course, baby. Of course.” The couch dips with her weight as she sits beside you.

By now, Caesar Flickerman is recapping the announcement to the audience with his cheery co-star. You can never remember his name. You're as still as a statue as Caesar goes over a list of remaining victors. You don't move when your mom holds onto you. She holds you and she holds you and she cries for you. You don’t think you have any more tears left in you.

“Now, it always hurts to say goodbye, Claudius, but I can admit there are a few lovely victors I’m particularly attached to.” Oh, you think, that’s his name. Doubtful that you’ll remember it.

“Yes, Caesar, I completely agree. Here’s one of mine now. From District Four: Finnick Odair!” Your eye starts to twitch, lower lid spasming. They play clips of him. Finnick waving to the audience as he walks on stage, Finnick posing for the camera at a photo shoot, Finnick walking down the red carpet at a movie premiere.

You imagine footage of him being reaped for the Quell and saliva is gathering in your mouth again, stomach flexing as you gag. You double over, nausea washing over you as you try to keep what little is in your stomach down. Absently, you feel a hand rubbing your back in wide, soothing circles that aren’t doing a lot to soothe you.

You were wrong. You do have tears left in you.

-

A/N: 1.) your arena is inspired by Valle dei Mulin in Italy 2.) The people of 11 all have farm and gardening-related names. (Neem tree, venus flytrap, aloe vera, Mass Cane) 3.) Cane had a crush on the reader similar to Peeta's initial crush on Katniss 4.) Each district has a different accent depending on their geography

#the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #catching fire #hunger games catching fire #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #and they'd find us in a week

[respectthepetty]

So . . .

I'm fucked.

Pisaeng is now my baby boy, and I'm fully invested in his well-being. He took so many hits this episode, and I'm taking it personally.

Let's recap exactly how this episode hurt Piseang's and my feelings because I need to make sure I deliver the maximum damage to myself:

Kawi telling Piseang that he is intentionally creating distance between them because Pisaeng makes him feel uncomfortable and unsafe in front of the pink neon light and sign that reads "Extending our friendship, connection, and happiness to you all" was the cherry on top of this shitty pain sandwich.

Kawi chasing Pisaeng to the parking lot just to shove money into his face, so he won't owe Pisaeng anything.

DJ Squirtle! Pisaeng was so excited to give Kawi this, only to throw it at him from the car after such a horrible day.

Pisaeng turned down Pear's invite, but lit up when Kawi invited him out for drinks, only to be ambushed by a group that included Knot.

Pisaeng mentioned not being comfortable around him. Knot is misogynistic and Kawi KNOWS he is an asshole in the future, yet Knot keeps making comments about Pisaeng's sex life and the fact that they went to an all-boys school. Knot also mentioned believing Kawi was with Max (aka GAY), so is Knot homophobic and this is another reason Pisaeng does not want this dumpster in his life?

On the topic of Max, my other baby boy - Is this the reason for their dispute? Max could be gay and Kawi didn't like the implication that they might be in a relationship? Also, he was supposed to meet Max later. Did he? Or did he go out with Knot and the guys instead? He check-marked Max off his list, but this won't be as simple as he is making it if he continues to be friendly with Knot if his issues with Max really do stem from queerness.

Back to my other baby boy - Pear does like Pisaeng, but more importantly, IS MY BABY BOY DEPRESSED?! He is lonely. His old friends suck. His new friend said he makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't want to feel the pressure from Pear's dad. What is his relationship with his own parents? WHO IS THERE FOR MY BOY?!

He looked like he was going to cry in that classroom when Kawi told him he was annoying. He was trying to keep his shit together but was *this* close to having a breakdown when he was scrambling to gather his stuff so he could haul ass out of there. He didn't even turn in the quiz.

LOOK AT HIM!

I'm glad Kawi chased after him, but Pisaeng is really begging for someone to care about it, yet Kawi refuses.

He is quick to forgive and share his food with Kawi, so when Kawi told him that he is bothered by Pisaeng's behavior (thinking it's funny when Kawi is upset), Pisaeng clearly looked pained to know he unintentionally hurt Kawi. He wanted to fix it, but Kawi left immediately when Knot showed up.

Kawi turning down every offer Pisaeng extended to hang out upset him, and he even mentioned it later in the classroom. He tried to joke it off in the class, but he was hurt when it happened.

He went from being happy seeing Kawi and Pear together, to being somber since the realization of what he set in motion hit him.

Because he likes Kawi, a guy he can't have.

And he has liked him the entire time. TEN YEARS!

The worst part of all of this is Kawi isn't bad. He is trying to fix this, yet is delivering the most blows to my guy. He doesn't want Pear to be hurt in the future, so he must keep his distance from Pisaeng. He doesn't want to owe Pisaeng, so he pays him back. He doesn't want Pisaeng to be lonely, so he tries to mend his friendships. He wants his life to be better, which includes befriending Max again, saving his dad's life, and being with Pear, but he is missing what is right in front of him. He needs Pisaeng for his life to be better.

And then next week?!

Yeah, so like I wrote.

I'm fucked.

#be my favorite #be my favorite the series #pisaeng x kawi #is this show about to be a Hot Tops for me? #Pisaeng is my baby boy and I'm about to fight everyone in this show #Treat him with kindness and love! #And then Max! #I can't believe this is happening #I'm feeling feelings for the pursuer in a JittiRain show