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misseviehyde · 1 year

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BAD-BARGAIN

This is a tribute story to one of my favourite artists and online friends. Ashley Hacksaw whose OC Vivian is a sexy slime Goddess. Please check out her work at @hacsaw8 on Twitter. Vivian is her character and I have posted this with her permission.

Billy cowered and whimpered as he listened to his bully Josh tearing up and down the corridor outside the computer room looking for him.

"You can't hide for long nerd, my mates have the exits blocked. I'm gonna tear your fucking head off when I find you. Come out!"

Hiding behind a row of computers, his palms sweaty and his heart pounding, the computer nerd had no intention of complying. Billy was small and weak, Josh powerful and strong. The muscled quarterback was the biggest bully at school and had put people who crossed him into hospital, so perhaps hacking into his social media accounts and sending nudes of Josh's huge cock to every girl at school (including the female teachers) to get him into trouble hadn't been such a good idea.

No one had known it was him of course, but Billy hadn't been able to resist the temptation to brag about what he'd done and now the whole school knew after someone had blabbed. It didn't matter really who had got him in the shit, as soon as he told one person it was inevitable the secret would get out.

And now he was dead.

There was no way out of the computer room and this section of the school. The exits were blocked and Josh would find him soon. What was he going to do?

Hahahahahah!

An amused female voice, sexy and confident with a mischievous and slightly malicious catch to it was laughing near his head. He nearly jumped out of his skin until he realised it was coming from one of the computer monitors.

"What the hell?" he gasped as he lifted his head a little to look at the screen.

A strange... creature... was looking out of the screen with a toothy white grin, breaking the fourth wall and regarding him with big hypnotic eyes. She was clearly female... VERY DEFINITELY female, with curves in all the right places and huge round breasts. Her body was entirely black and her skin looked strangely latexy, as if it could stretch and flow at will. Magnificent red hair cascaded down from her head, flickering and flowing like it was alive like the flames of a fire. Pointed ears swept back from a beautiful perfect face, with full firm lips and the cheekbones of a Goddess. She tapped her face thoughtfully with long sensuous nails... or were they claws?

Hello Billy. I'm Vivian.

Billy backed away, terrified beyond his wits. Was this some prank? An AI accidentally left loaded on the computer, or just some youtube video left open? But no... it.... SHE... had spoken to him. It seemed like her voice was being projected directly into his head. Like she was rooting through his mind.

Oh dear Billy. You're really in the shit aren't you? I like to flow and surf through the web looking for fun and I was drawn by the drama of this situation. You're a weak, pathetic little boy about to be destroyed by a strong powerful Alpha. I really don't see any hope for you and I thought it would be fun to watch. I can really cum hard to something like this.

"This... this isn't real. I'm having a fucking mental breakdown," whimpered Billy - his troubles with Josh forgotten. "What the fuck are you?"

Ohhhh, I'm lots of things. A void creature from another dimension, an all powerful slime Goddess, a sex obsessed little slutty bitch - I'm so fucking much that reality struggles to contain my power. I have to spend most of my time existing here, though I like to pop into reality from time to time. This situation is kinda intriguing. How about I pop through now and say hi.

Billy's head felt fuzzy and he thought he was going to faint as the screen began to bulge. Then with a pop, a sexy head with a crown of dark flames and long red hair pushed through. Moaning and grunting, using her clawed hands to drag herself forward - Vivian pulled herself out of the screen with a hot wet gloop. Her body slid out till with a plop she landed on the floor in front of Billy. She smelled delicious and being near her, Billy felt a strange dusky pheromone rising from her body that made him unbearably horny. Her body... her skin... her hair. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel that body.... to know what it was like.

Vivian was tiny, she stood at full head height with her lips at his crotch. For some reason that made his dick twitch hard and the thought of what she could do from that position made him groan with lust. He noticed now for the first time that her hair was so long and thick it was like a tail. It swished behind her like a cat. He wondered how it would feel to grab onto it, to use it to pound her harder. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Her hypnotic eyes held his gaze and she tossed her amazing hair sexily with another wicked grin.

"Like what you see? Unfortunately for you, my scent drives losers like you wild. You're already falling under my control. You see... I can't manifest long in real life without a host. I need someone inside me... I need someone to BECOME me. So I wanna make you a bargain. Get inside me Billy. Become me and I'll protect you from that nasty bully."

As if summoned by her words, Billy heard Josh laugh in triumph from outside. "There's only one place you can be loser, I'm on my way to the computer room."

Jumping up onto the computer bench Vivian spread her legs wide and giggled. Between her wicked thighs Billy could now see a tight slit, a hot wet pussy that was already dripping with lust.

"Fuck your way inside me Billy... get your dick inside my slot and let me flow all over you. Thrust and fuck your way into Goddess until YOU ARE me."

Vivian's obscene scent was blotting out all thought. Her body seemed to ooze power and the thought of mounting her, pushing into her, becoming her was getting too hot to resist. As Vivian he would be unstoppable and safe from the pathetic bully. By allowing her to possess him, Billy would never be weak again.

"Yesssssss," he hissed eagerly as Vivian grinned happily.

"Oh I love it when guys get horny to become me. Hurry up and get inside, I wanna feel you inside me."

Dropping his pants, his cock hard Billy advanced. Vivian eagerly slid forward to meet his cock, moaning as he pushed into her for the first time. "Yessss that's it baby, TAKE ME!"

"Oh my GOD!" screamed Billy. He was a virgin and had never fucked a pussy, so not only was Vivian his first but he had never felt anything so good. Her legs wrapped round his waist, dragging him in even deeper as her hungry pussy seemed to suck and pump him in with every thrust.

"Give yourself to me Billy," hissed Vivan. "Become my boy-host."

"Ohhh my God, I want to become you so badly, take me!" groaned Billy as Vivian's grin nearly split her face and with a laugh she began to melt and ooze all over Billy. Vivian turned to sticky black goo, Billy melting inside and it closing up around him as he jerked and pumped with desperate thrusts.

His cock began to erupt, sperm blasting out everywhere as Vivian absorbed him inside her body, her hair coiling around his head and rooting into his scalp. He felt her claws spring from his fingers, her breasts greedily suck onto his chest. Her face closed over his and he gave her his soul, becoming a willing passenger in his own body as Vivian took full control.

Vivian giggled, her red hair moving as if it had a mind of it's own. She was bigger now - temporarily human sized now she was on a host, and her breasts were even bigger. With Billy inside her, she no longer needed to concentrate on holding her form and now all her powers were at her disposal.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?!"

Vivian raised an eyebrow and laughed as she saw that Josh had finally found her. He had stormed halfway into the room expecting to see Billy, but now as his eyes drank in the monstrous, yet alluring creature in front of him - it was clear he didn't know what to do.

"Hello baby," laughed the slime Goddess. Raising her arms, she levitated slightly into the air and floated across the room towards Joshua... his mouth dropping open as he beheld her true power.

"Wh... what the hell are you?" he gasped in confusion.

"Call me Vivian. That little nerd you want to destroy is inside me, so unfortunately you can't touch him anymore. What he doesn't realise though is that I LOVE a mean bully Alpha. I want you to fuck me Josh. His tiny dick barely satisfied me, but I know you have more to give me."

Josh groaned, Vivian's proximity making him horny and unable to resist. This creature was like no woman he had ever known before, yet somehow she was the sexiest and most wicked creature he had ever beheld. She was making him horny in ways a mortal woman never had.

"My pussy is tighter... my body better than any bitch you've ever fucked baby. I can make you cum so hard you'll be pumping cum into me until your balls run dry. And best of all - all that cum will be going into Billy as well. Just think of him - deep inside me, absorbed but still conscious of every feeling. Helpless to stop you breeding me with your Alpha bully cum until he is addicted to the taste."

Sinking to her knees, her hair whipping out and dragging down Josh's pants, Vivian opened her mouth and slid her thick wet lips around his cock.

Glug, glug, glug.

Joshua moaned as Vivian's sucking mouth slurped and worked up and down his throbbing cock. She didn't appear to need to breathe, so the suction was constant and perfect. Her claws played with his balls, tickling them as her perfect goo like body sent shivers of pleasure into him.

Josh gasped - he'd never had a blowjob this intense, this perfect before. It was like being sucked off by a greedy hoover desperate for cum. It was too much, and with a heaving groan he began to cum.

Vivian moaned happily, gulping down thick loads of hot white cum. Deep inside her, Billy groaned as it flowed into him - his own bullies semen flowing into his stomach.

"Mmmmmh more," she gasped pulling her head off his cock and laying back. Her hair whipped out and dragged Josh in and he groaned as his massive cock slid effortlessly inside her pussy. He had only just cum, but the feelings were so intense and so good that in moments he was horny again.

"Yessss fuck me Joshua," groaned Vivian. "You're such a fucking stud, so much better than Billy. Pump more cum inside me. Pump it in my pussy, my ass - cream me so he's drowning in your semen."

Joshua was only too happy to obey. He groaned as he erupted again, and Vivian screamed in happiness as cum blasted deep inside her and within her perfect body Billy was pumped full of more and more.

"I can't believe I ever considered using Billy as my host," laughed Vivian as Joshua remained buried in her pussy - her legs wrapped round his waist. "It's time to upgrade. Become me Joshua. You know you want this body. Take me from Billy."

Joshua wanted it. He wanted Vivian's body, her power for himself. "Yes bitch, give me your fucking body. Make me into you!"

"Yes Joshua, take it - I'm yours!" screamed Vivian and he began to pound and thrust into her. Each sucking pump of his huge cock now caused Vivian's body to flow and melt, sucking backwards and over his skin.

"NOOOOOO!" screamed Billy as Vivian was ripped off him by his bully. Joshua laughed triumphantly as Vivian flowed all over him - her oozing black slime eagerly attaching to his superior body.

Standing up, the last of Vivian merging with her new host - the slime Queen looked down at her body with glee. Joshua's huge cock still jutted from her crotch. His muscled body meant that she was now over six feet in height and muscled and toned.

She looked down at Billy whimpering below her. He had cum oozing out of his mouth, his ass - it was all over his face and in his hair.

"Look at how pathetic you are Billy," she giggled. "Did I forget to warn you - I'm really bad at sticking to bargains. I just take what I want when I want it. Merged with Joshua, now I'm even more powerful and he LOVES being me."

Grabbing Billy's hair she dragged him up. "Thanks to your little stint inside me, you're now addicted to Joshua's cum. But don't worry, I can give you plenty more."

Moaning and grinning with her wicked toothy smile, Vivan gasped as she slid her huge cock into Billy's eager mouth and he began to suck.

"Good boy, you're my personal cumslut from now on."

Vivian felt herself relax nicely as Billy sucked her off. She was going to enjoy manifesting in this town. She'd spend a few weeks here corrupting and fucking everyone she pleased - then perhaps she'd leave and dive back into the net.

Afterall - there was always another loser looking to make a bad bargain with her.

THE END

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nirikeehan · 1 year

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Happy Friday!!! I'm sure you can writing some soul killing angst 🤣 "Taking the blame" - Thalia/Blackwall

I sure did! I added Cullen/Thalia to the mix and a tiny bit of Cassandra, too. A direct continuation of this trainwreck that I started last week. Love triangle drama!

IDK if I stuck the landing on this one, but oh well, I got Cullen to punch Blackwall and that's the important thing.

For @dadrunkwriting and @badthingshappenbingo

WC: 1853

Series: Dragon Age: Inquisition

---

She sits alone in the war room, watching the slanted sunlight creep across the floor.

“Inquisitor?” Cullen’s voice, from the hall.

Thalia starts, thinks absurdly of hiding under the table, but the heavy wooden door swings open and the Commander pokes his head through. He spots her immediately, slips in through the narrow space. “There you are. Josephine’s been trying to locate you all afternoon. We’ve no meeting today, but there’s a number of reports that need your…”

He trails off, getting a good look at her face. His brow creases. “Are you all right?”

She must look a fright. The skin around her eyes feels hot and puffy. Her eyes itch from crying. Her red hair is gathered low at the nape of her neck, a poor show for someone of her calibre, but this morning her wrist throbbed when she tried to do one of her usual elaborate plaits. She swallows and averts her gaze. “I’m fine.”

Cullen wavers in the doorway. His hand moves to the hilt of his sword, as if he could use it to slash at her emotional distress. “I’ll tell her it can wait.”

“Good. Thanks.” Her voice is faint. Her head pounds with humiliation.

The door closes. She waits to hear the heavy tread of his boots recede. Instead, they move toward her. She looks up; he’s pulling out a chair, sitting beside her. Her chest tightens. He’s so handsome in the soft glow of the afternoon light, hazel eyes soft with concern, that it’s difficult to look at him.

“Would you like to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

“Not really.” She stares at the map spread across the table before them. So many tokens laid across the map, each representing obstacles she had tried her best to overcome. “I’m just wondering where I went wrong.”

“With what?” he asks, though she suspects he knows. She’d spied him in the crowd at the judgment, way in the back, wearing a grim expression.

“Thom Rainier.” The name scalds her tongue.

Cullen’s face hardens. “You showed him great mercy. If he cannot handle it, that’s his problem.”

Thalia snorts. Leave it to Cullen to have such a straightforward view. “Did he have a point, I wonder?”

“About?”

“He called me corrupt. A criminal. Just like him.”

Cullen narrows his eyes. “Thalia, with all due respect— I don’t think you ought to pay such prattle any mind. He was goading you. Trying to drag you down to his level. That’s how men like Rainier operate.”

“Men like Rainier.” Everything about the distinction feels foreign.

“Bruisers. Thugs. Men who’ll do anything if the price is right.”

He’s not like that at all, she wants to say, chest tight. He’s noble and good, I know he is, I just don’t understand why he’s so intent upon proving otherwise.

“Do you think I did the right thing, freeing him?” Thalia asks quietly.

“That’s not for me to say.” Cullen’s response is immediate, voice resolute. She forgets, sometimes, how much of his life he has spent answering to others.

“It is, though.” Thalia shifts in her seat, fixing him with a stern look. “You’re one of my top advisors. I take input from you every day.”

“I think…” He pauses, eyes skittering across the wide, worn map. “I think nothing was going to stop you from giving him another chance, whether he deserves it or not.” Cullen locks his gaze on hers, fierce and electric. “What Rainier chooses to do with it now is up to him.”

Thalia’s heart thumps. She feels self-conscious, this close to him, alone. Something between them has been intensifying since that terrible night in Val Royeaux. She’d opened the door in the jail and there he stood, ready to fix this, whatever the cost. He rode all night. Left as soon as he heard, Josephine told her later, Thalia’s mouth open in a tiny o of surprise.

“Thank you, Cullen.” The gratitude wells in her. He’s been here all along, unwavering, despite fighting demons of his own. She smiles, painful at it is against her chapped lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He clears his throat. Is the color rising in his cheeks? “You’re the Inquisitor. You’d be fine, I expect.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m serious. I don’t think I’d’ve got this far if I didn’t have you. Your support. I just… I wanted to thank you.” Maker, now she’s blushing. The war room has gone terribly hot.

He reaches over and takes her hand. Stunned, Thalia stares, then slowly lets her fingers thread through his. He wears soft, downy gloves, and she wishes he might remove them, so that she would feel his skin on hers.

She twinges her wrist, and pain reverberates up her arm. She winces.

“What?” Alarmed, Cullen loosens his grip. “I’m sorry, did I—?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” Thalia says. “Don’t worry about it.”

But he’s watching her with careful eyes, measuring the way she’s holding her arm. He’s a warrior, no stranger to injury. He leans forward and gently slides up the sleeve of her cobalt blue tunic, revealing beneath the ring of grey bruises. He studies them, turning her hand over to get a better look.

“Did he do this?” Cullen asks in a low voice, devoid of tenderness.

Thalia shivers and pulls away. “Cullen…”

“Did he do this?” Urgent now, sharp and dangerous.

Thalia presses her lips together, swallows the affirmative. Cullen’s face changes from open and expressive to the visage she spied on the night Haven fell, and at the battle for Adamant. The corner of his lip by his scar twitches. All at once he’s on his feet, he’s storming away, to the heavy wooden door and out into the corridor.

“Cullen. Cullen, wait!” Thalia dashes after him, panic seizing her.

She doesn’t know what he’ll do, but she feels the promise of it welling around her, threatening to shatter the brittle peace that has gripped Skyhold. By the hole in the stone hallway, she grabs his elbow. “It was me. It’s my fault. I tried— I was so angry, and I tried to strike him—”

Cullen whirls on her. “And so that justifies hurting you? A man three times your size?” He shakes his head, lets out a wry laugh. “There are a dozen ways he could have deflected a blow without leaving bruises, Thalia.”

He sidesteps her grip, as if to prove his point, and keeps walking. His strides are long and sure, and she’s left scrambling to keep up. “Cullen, please. You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly.”

The door to Josephine’s office lies open, and mercifully she is not present. In the light cast from the fireplace, Thalia again reaches for his arm. “Cullen, please, where are you going?” She fears she already knows, and that she won’t be able to stop him.

“I need to have a word with Rainier.”

She shakes her head frantically. “Please don’t. Please. You’re just going to make it worse.”

“How can it be worse?” He takes her gently by the shoulders, bends down slightly to look her in the face. “Listen to me, Thalia. None of this is your fault.” She sees every facet of his hazel eyes; this close, they look flecked with gold. “You have done nothing but give that man grace, and all he’s done is spit it back at you. That ends now.”

Cullen releases her, leaving the impression of warmth on her skin. He strides out into the Main Hall, and Thalia follows him. There’s no other way. If she thought she could run down a secret stairwell and beat him outside, she would, but there’s no time.

Everyone sees: the visiting dignitaries, the soldiers on watch, the servants and the refugees looking for a meal, Varric snug in his seat at his writing table, watching over the top of the manuscript he’s proofreading. Vivienne stands at the balcony above, one hand curling on the balustrade. They all see the Commander marching through the hall, face stony with determination, and the Inquisitor running shortly behind in a panic.

The cold outside air hits them. Cullen does not even slow. Down the stairs, past the landing, deftly dodging a masked Orlesian admiring the view. Thalia is right behind him, eyes darting about, praying she might spot Blackwall first. She could run to the barn and warn him — and then what?

Cullen reaches the grass of the upper courtyard. When the Commander arrives, people stop what they are doing and stand to attention. He’s been counting on this, it’s clear. He searches the crowd, looking into the eyes of soldiers and citizens alike. He raises his voice, projects with authority. “Have any of you seen Thom Rainier?”

“Er, he went into the tavern a little while ago, Commander,” says Scout Harding, from her usual resting spot near its entrance. Her green-eyed gaze travels from Cullen to Thalia, and the pleasant expression freezes on her face. Her brows furrow, as if aware she may have made a mistake, but not sure why. By the training dummies, Cassandra and the Iron Bull abandon their battle stances, straighten, and stare.

“Cullen,” Thalia tries once more. “Please. Leave it alone.”

He turns to her, and she thinks that perhaps she’s finally gotten through to him.

The door to Herald’s Rest opens, and Blackwall steps out, head ducked to clear the low threshold. Cullen steps forward, jaw set. “Hey, Rainier.”

Blackwall looks up, and Cullen punches him in the mouth.

Thalia gasps. Blackwall’s head snaps back. He rocks on his heels from the blow, recovers, and faces front, strands of hair knocked loose into his face. Blood drips from his lower lip as he fixes Cullen a look of icy hatred. The courtyard is silent.

“Touch her again,” Cullen says, “and I’ll drag you back down to the dungeons myself. Is that understood?”

Blackwall turns his head and spits blood-tinged saliva into the grass. He straightens, eyes narrowed. “Yes, ser.” His voice is steely, unyielding.

“Good.” Cullen turns on his heels and walks away.

Blackwall wipes his mouth with the back of his gauntlet, squares his shoulders, and returns to the tavern.

The people frozen in the courtyard begin to thaw. Heart thudding, Thalia tries to rush forward, but someone grabs her arm. Cassandra is by her side, a grim expression on her face. “I wouldn’t.”

“But—” Thalia shakes herself away. “I’ve got to talk to him.”

“Who?” Cassandra arches a brow.

“Blackwall. Cullen.” Thalia huffs. “Both of them.”

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra says, exasperated, “were you never taught not to kick a hornet’s nest?”

Thalia swallows hard. “Cullen, he… he shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, he should not have.” Cassandra fixes her with a shrewd eye. “But I have never known him to act without cause.”

Thalia chews her lip.

“You ought to go get some rest, Inquisitor.” Cassandra’s gaze travels over the courtyard, at the spectators awaiting any sign of an encore. She angles Thalia toward the respite of the keep. “It has been a trying few weeks for us all.”

#cullen rutherford #thalia trevelyan #blackwall #cassandra pentaghast #cullen x trevelyan #blackwall x trevelyan #the love triangle that never ends #fics #dragon age drunk writing circle #bad things happen bingo

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deeg9 · 1 year

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CH.2: There's something that tells me (that life has changed)

Thank you everyone for the feedback on Chapter One! Chapter Two is up - I may add an epilogue set in the future in the next few days. Comments and engagement on AO3 is always appreciated - Enjoy!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/M Fandom: The Rookie (TV 2018) Relationship: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen, Nyla Harper/James Murray, Wesley Evers/Angela LopezCharacter:Tim Bradford, Lucy Chen (The Rookie), Nyla Harper, James Murray (The Rookie), Wesley Evers, Angela Lopez, Wade Grey, Celina JuarezAdditional Tags:Chenford Canon, anon request, Post 5x10 by 3 Months, Pregnancy Scare, see notes for TW, Drama & Comedy & Heartfelt Goodness, Secret Relationship, Medical Inaccuracies Language: English Published: 2023-01-07 Updated: 2023-01-08 Chapters: 2 Words: 6025

[If you missed Ch 1, it's posted on Tumblr and AO3]

LUCY

“I’ll go pick up another pack of tests,” Lucy offered as they stared down at the one test in question, but nobody tore their gaze away from the faint pink line on the test.

“No, I’ll call my doctor,” Angela said, breaking the spell. “I know she’ll fit us in for a blood test. If we get this over by the lunch hour, then we might even have results by tonight.”

Lucy continued to stare at the test while she absentmindedly followed Angela’s phone call.

When she woke up that morning, it had been just another day. She and Tim took Kojo for an early run in which halfway through, Kojo plunged belly first into a muddy puddle and rolled around. While Tim hosed him off in the backyard, Lucy made breakfast: Salmon for Kojo and an omelet for the two of them.

She loved the pace they’d been taking their relationship. They had found their rhythm. Nothing felt forced and they organically began to spend more and more time together.

Part of that meant spending time with Tim’s sister and her kids. Both Tim and Lucy had gotten involved in the boy’s baseball team earlier in the year and it had been more fun than she could have imagined. These days, Genny and Lucy didn’t need an excuse to hang out.

Tim pretended to be annoyed by the two of them colluding, especially when Genny told embarrassing stories from Tim’s past in painstakingly clear detail, but she knew he secretly loved the friendship they were developing.

And on the flip side … Tim now (unwillingly) knew everything about Sabrina Carpenter after spending many nights and mornings at their apartment listening to Tamara prattle on about her favorite female artist. Tim would tease Tamara and ask if there was a friend she could call to discuss the latest Sabrina celebrity news with instead, to which she’d reply that she preferred the challenge of converting Tim to her way of thinking much more. Tamara even set a New Year’s Resolution of dragging Lucy and Tim to a Sabrina Carpenter concert, not having the slightest clue that they’d already purchased a set of VIP passes to an upcoming show for Tamara’s birthday.

It all felt natural. It felt right.

Would this fracture that feeling?

“Thank you so much, Dr. Stone,” Angela gushed into the phone. “Yes, we will head over right now. See you soon.”

“Do you want to ride with us?” Nyla asked.

“Yeah,” Lucy swallowed. “Let me just tell Tim I’m taking an early lunch and then I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

“Okay,” Angela nodded. “Be quick.”

Lucy should have anticipated that Tim would be waiting in the hall outside of the locker room. It wasn’t lost on him that Nyla and Angela rushed out from behind her and she was sure he noticed their flustered expressions.

He waited until the other two women were out of earshot before bringing it up.

“So?” Tim asked, drawing out the end of the word into a question.

“The result was … inconclusive,” Lucy said. “I’m going to take an early lunch and pop over to the doctor’s office for a blood test. Can you manage for an hour without me?”

“Of course,” Tim said. He looked around the room. “How is it inconclusive? Isn’t it just like an aim and pee thing with a yes or no answer?”

“Yes, usually,” Lucy whispered, “but something went wrong.”

“What went wrong?” Tim asked, confusion sewn into his expression.

“I can’t go into the details right now,” Lucy said, blushing. It wasn’t like she could tell him what happened without revealing that Angela and Nyla were in the same boat and she wanted to respect their privacy. “Just trust me on this. If I don’t get the results by tonight, we can try taking another test at home after shift.”

“Okay,” Tim conceded. “Let me just get Grey to cover for me and I can come with you.”

“No, he’ll be too suspicious,” Lucy pointed out and Tim’s face dropped. “But I think after today we should make a plan to tell Grey and to tell our friends. It’s time.”

“Alright, if you’re sure?” Tim prodded, his eyes full of concern. He could always tell when she was putting on a front.

“Yeah,” Lucy said with a soft smile. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

She stopped herself from reaching out to him. She really wanted to hug him, but she couldn’t. Not here, not when they were at work and near so many prying eyes. Not when she knew she’d break as soon as his arms slipped around her.

She knew the honeymoon phase of their relationship wouldn’t last forever but to have it potentially shift so abruptly because of this new, incredibly big thing was too much for her to absorb.

She loved Tim and his reaction in the shop earlier had made her love him even more. She wanted to start a family with him eventually but she’d give almost anything to be able to do it their way and on their timeline.

Angela spotted her as she walked through the parking lot and waved her over to the unmarked vehicle. Lucy took a steadying breath and tried to push away the sinking feeling in her gut.

Angela

As they were wrapping up at the doctor’s office, Angela got a call about a homicide scene that they were needed on. After they arrived, Lucy immediately jumped into the action to help Officer Jan set the perimeter and begin canvassing for witnesses while Nyla began to interview the person who’d called in the DB to 9-1-1.

Tim gave Angela the official readout of the scene and she diligently took notes, but she couldn’t help checking her watch every few minutes. The doctor promised to put a rush on the bloodwork and said she’d call each of them with the results as soon as possible.

Angela wanted to know those results so badly. She needed to know.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked after repeating the answer to a question she already asked. “You seem off.”

She sighed despondently.

“You can’t say anything to Wes until I know for sure,” she warned and he nodded apprehensively. “I might be pregnant again.”

Tim blinked.

”For fuck’s sake, is there something in the water? ” He muttered it quietly under his breath and if she didn’t have freakishly good hearing, she would have missed it entirely.

“What?” Angela whispered irritably. “Oh my god, did Lucy tell you?”

“What? No,” Tim stammered. “Unless … What did she tell you?”

“Timothy,” Angela warned, “what did Lucy say?”

“She told me she’s late,” Tim whispered defensively. “That’s it. I had no idea you were going through the same thing.”

“Oh.” Angela shook her head, surprised that Lucy would share something so sensitive with Tim. “Forget about that. We’ll circle back to me in a second.

She knew they were close, but Lucy had to know on some level that Tim had feelings for her.

“I’m just so sorry, Tim,” Angela said with a sigh and gave his arm a light squeeze. “I didn’t even know Lucy was seeing someone.”

Tim’s jaw hung open temporarily as she watched him find his words again. Poor guy. He must be reeling.

“I’m fine,” Tim said slowly. “Really, I am. You don’t need to worry about me. Are you ok with this? You were just telling me you were pretty sure Jackson was going to be an only child.”

“No, I’m not ok,” Angela admitted. “And I feel like a terrible person saying that out loud.”

Tim slung his arm over her shoulder.

“How can I help?”

“Just moral support,” Angela said. “And let me vent and complain if this test is positive about how hard my life is, even when it might seem unreasonable.”

“Of course,” Tim said. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and then let her go. “What are friends for?”

“And Tim?” Angela turned so she was facing him. “I am sorry about Lucy. I really thought you two were heading in the same direction.”

She watched Tim’s expression change. She expected him to look sad, maybe a little lost, but instead she found a mixture of guilt and … something else on his face.

What was going on?

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “I really should talk to Lucy before I tell you anything.”

“Tell me what?” Angela’s pulse kicked up a beat.

Tim glanced at Lucy in the distance and she saw it in his eyes. This wasn’t a man yearning, this man was adoring someone he already had.

Oh my god, how had she missed the signs?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Tim rushed to say as Angela’s eyes widened. “Lucy and I really just wanted to keep something for ourselves for a while and then I blinked and three months had gone by. Honestly, there were a number of times I was sure you’d already figured it out–”

“Oh my god,” Angela grabbed his arm and pulled him down to her level. He almost tripped over his own foot. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“If Lucy’s pregnant,” Tim whispered with a smile on his face, “that’s my kid.”

Angela felt the shout of glee build in her chest before she could contain it.

“Shhhh,” Tim looked around nervously. She could see several officers looking over at them from the corner of her eye. “You have to keep it a secret. We’re still figuring out the work side of things.”

“I am going to hug the shit out of both of you later,” Angela said with the biggest smile on her face. Then she punched Tim in the arm. Hard.

“Ow,” Tim said, rubbing the spot.

“I have been feeling sorry for you ALL day. You could have told me,” Angela scolded.

“I know,” Tim assured her. “And I trust you. We just wanted to make sure this thing was real first.”

“Is it?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Tim said with a deliriously happy smile. “As real as it gets.”

Angela was gearing up to tell Tim how happy she was for him when Nyla walked up and narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

“There is literally a dead body twenty feet from you,” she scolded. “Could you stop smiling so much? The other cops are starting to think you’re both sociopaths.”

“Tim was just cheering me up,” Angela explained. “What do we have?”

Angela worked to switch her brain back into work mode, but only managed to quell her excitement down to a half smile on her face as she walked the crime scene with Nyla.

Her best friend was finally happy and she knew it was the forever-kind-of-happy. She had a second-hand happy high that she just couldn’t shake.

NYLA

Nyla reached for her phone after the ding indicated she had a text message. They were getting close to wrapping up their day and had a few more solid leads to run down but it was nothing that couldn’t wait until morning.

From: Lucy | To: Angela & Nyla

Just got the call. Mine was negative! Phew! Good luck <;3

Angela sighed audibly from across the desk. She saw her shoot off a reply and then did the same. Nyla’s pulse kicked up as she realized her chances were now fifty-fifty.

When Angela’s phone rang next, their eyes met and Angela nodded before stepping away to answer. Around the same time, Tim and Lucy went into Grey’s office. It wasn’t something she would typically notice, but their body language was … strange.

Grey hung his head in his hands for a moment before looking up at both of them with a huge smile on his face. He rounded his desk and hugged them both. Lucy hugged him back enthusiastically but Bradford looked stiff and awkward.

Nyla smirked.

It looked like ‘Chenford’ (as Smitty called them) was finally coming clean.

“Nolan,” Grey opened his office door and called out. “Could you join us?”

Nyla leaned back in her chair to enjoy the show. Moments later, Nolan’s jaw dropped in complete disbelief and Nyla chuckled in her seat. She wasn’t surprised that Nolan hadn’t suspected a thing. She’d noticed Lucy and Nolan slowly drift apart after Jackson’s death. Whether that was due to their respective lives getting busier, or a subconscious decision to distance themselves from painful memories, she wasn’t sure.

Regardless, Nolan seemed genuinely happy for them.

“Nyla,” Angela said from behind her. She spun around in her chair.

“What’s the word?” Nyla asked, trying to hide the hope in her voice.

“My test was negative,” Angela said slowly. “Which means–”

Nyla’s heart pounded in her ears as her phone rang. She answered it right away.

“I’m calling for Nyla Harper.” Nyla recognized Dr. Stone’s voice from earlier.

“Hi, Dr. Stone,” Nyla said. “Thank you for rushing the test results. Lay it on me.”

“They were negative for pregnancy,” Dr. Stone cut to the chase. “But I did see something interesting in your bloodwork that makes me think you could have gotten the false positive on the take home test.”

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Nyla responded, letting the news wash over her. So she wouldn’t be a mom again. At least, not yet.

“It’s very rare, but sometimes a UTI can trigger a false positive. You do have minimal hCG levels present for detection but if you were pregnant, those levels would continue to climb throughout your first trimester and then level off,” Dr. Stone explained. “For at home test to be positive, the levels would have had to be much higher earlier today since those tests are far less sensitive than blood tests.”

“Okay,” Nyla said. “What does that mean for me?”

“I see an elevated white blood cell count in your CBC panel, which indicates an infection is probably present,” Dr. Stone said. “If you can come back in tomorrow or later this week, I can run a urinalysis to confirm it. Then we can send you home with antibiotics to treat it.”

“Other than that, I’m fine?” Nyla asked.

“Yes, as far as I can tell, you’re very healthy,” Dr. Stone confirmed.

Nyla stayed on the phone long enough to schedule an appointment and then hung up. She jerked in her seat when she realized Angela was standing right behind her.

“Jesus, wear a bell,” Nyla chided.

“So you’re–”

“Not pregnant,” Nyla finished the sentence. “Doc says I might have triggered a false positive. I probably have a UTI and I’m going back tomorrow to confirm.”

“So none of us are pregnant?” Angela asked.

“Not a one,” Nyla confirmed.

“Then maybe we should all go grab celebratory drinks?” Angela suggested.

“Rain check,” Nyla smiled politely, wishing she could match Angela’s level of relief. “I am wiped.”

“Okay,” Angela said and gathered her things. “Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See ya.”

Nyla sighed and let the disappointment sit with her for a minute. It’s not the right time , she told herself, and she could be okay with that.

There was a silver lining to all of this. Now she knew how she really felt about adding to her family. She made her way home to James to see if he felt the same way.

LUCY

Lucy walked across the parking lot with Tim by her side, grinning from ear to ear about finally having their relationship out and in the open.

“How are you feeling?” Tim nudged her softly with his elbow.

“About telling Grey?” Lucy asked.

“That too,” Tim nodded, “but more so about the negative pregnancy test.”

“Honestly?” Lucy bit her lip nervously. “I’m relieved. You?”

“Me too,” Tim said with a sigh.

“Really?” Lucy prodded. “I know you’re ready to start a family but–”

“Eventually,” Tim corrected her. “But right now? I’m so happy with exactly where we are.”

“Me too.” Lucy smiled up at him and grabbed his hand.

“Wow,” Tim brought her hand to his lips and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. “I can’t believe we can actually do this now.”

“It’s almost like we’re a normal couple,” Lucy agreed with a laugh and swung his arm playfully as they walked.

Once they at his truck, Tim twisted her in his arms.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was husky as his face neared her own.

“What normal couples do.” He slid his hand behind her neck and brushed his fingers into her hair before closing the distance between their lips. His kiss felt like a vow, holding the promise of all the amazing milestones yet to come.

“I could get used to this,” Lucy mumbled against his lips.

“You better because I’m planning to keep doing it.”

“Fine by me,” Lucy said with a smirk. “Because I’m planning on keeping you forever.”

“Forever, huh?” Tim smiled teasingly and leaned back a hair. “I’m going to need to check my schedule first.”

“Oh, do I need to call your gofer so he can pencil me into your calendar?” Lucy said with a snort.

“That would be great,” Tim tossed back but she could see the corner of his lip creeping up.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” she warned lightheartedly, swatting his chest.

He captured her wrist swiftly and pulled her in close until her arm was wrapped around his neck. She rested her other palm on his chest, inhaling sharply in anticipation.

“You know what I think?” He teased, the grumble of his voice vibrating against her wrist.

“Hmm?” Lucy hummed, her gaze dropping from his eyes to his lips.

“Forever is a really good place to start.”

When his lips crashed down on hers this time, she felt giddy butterflies take flight in her belly. Their future played like a movie on the back of her eyelids but she blinked them away. The future could wait. She was focused on the here and now with the most important person in her life.

#chenford #chenford fic #the rookie #the rookie 5x10 plus three months #pregnancy scare #anon request part 2 #by deeg9

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siremasterlawrence · 1 year

Text

The Dawning Of The Sun Part 1/2

Simultaneously upon response The Courts of Legal order for The Senate and Congress have been called to action by President Allen my minion yes indeed everything is on schedule.

You see I have been invited to summit for a college level students higher learning class course in Washington and we get to meet The President unfortunately it is obviously heavy protected.

I am was whistling on my way to the visitors bathroom slipping in to stall I remove my remote control, pressing it pressuring the lights to go out and a panic to ensue.

The camera go rogue laying on the crowd to find President Allen pinpointing him for me on my app. I scan the room finding him with the accuracy of a heat seeking missile hit him with dart.

His eyes roll back, body sinks to the floor he is dragged through the darkness through a secret tunnel system and I make an escape like none has seen in their life time of ever will again.

A light edges in securing us an exit to the out side world we race to the helicopter we stole and make a haste return to my brand spanking new laboratory I created on my own.

One robot replacement at a time will soon be all I need to conquer everything in this world. “As soon as we arrive to the base my goons, lift him up in to the laboratory for me and leave us be.” I state.

“Yes sir” all four men agree flying us home in a speedy amount of time they leave me

to my plans. “You see Allen a few tiny clear attachments here and there then we can begin.” I finish.

A flick of the switch causes an electrical fiery spark and the mind mapping would begin a long with the injection. I let all settle in to his body a good hour in to it before I woke him up.

“Wakey, wakey, you dunce” I say shaking him back to life with hush stupefied but not expression on his face.

“Oh Master Lawrence, I had a nightmare of epic proportions.” He states.

“Relax my dear it’s all over now.”

“The world needs an attitude adjustment it all starts with The US.”

“I believe in your World Order”

“Others have had plans”

“So it’s true?”

“Yes, what do about that?”

“Give me names”

I turn on the television to see a alert for a breaking news flash interrupting my daytime drama and it says The President is missing I sigh feeling nothing at all.

He walks up with mischievous expressions on his face falling to his knees if only he is aware of it all. I sit him down aside from me and begin the explanation for my plan.

If must be well executed I reply giving him the need emphasizing of the event I pick up a sd card label it US. He stares at with such wonder as to say it’s the first time seeing it.

The next day he is finally reappearing at the main steps of the White House sd card in his hand and start to give them story I told

him to say. They are all skeptic beginning to analyze it but I knew the decryption would be almost impossible.

Eventually someone would place it in a lap top as my dinged I knew it is happening at this moment. The upload is happen behind a wall on their system once uploaded a signal will hit all satellites.

In a minutes a broadcast signal hit the air waves and screen in thunderous sounds amplified by each device upgrade grabbing hold of the unwilling participants of this event they soon will be though.

Like a switch everyone’s mind wipes cleat as they stare mindless in to space, spit is dribbling down their blank expressionless faces and they will be compelled rewritten to be compelled by me.

Clark Kent Aka Superman walks in to his job at The World Famous News Paper The Daily Planet to see the impossible no more like the improbable happen when he lays on every person in space.

He stops cold at the point he hears the faint sound of the programming at a higher level

of decibels sending his mind in to a tale spin of gigantic consequences down the line but it stops.

“Woah! Did I fall asleep or something?”

“Yeah I feel so light and relaxed”

“I am energized”

“Something is wrong guys I feel it”

“Oh relax Clark, you are such a worthy worth.”

“Why did I marry you again?”

“Lois “

“Joking “

“Hhhhmmmmnnn”

The world fails to notice any changes while it goes on except President Allen in his sleep dreams of what his Masters Grand Prix Gold Medal Worthy Plan Of World Domination. His cabinet, members of Congress and The Senate vanish and sudden reappear for weeks on end.

To Be Continued So Please Like and Reblog

#Hypno Submission

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marthacrijns · 7 months

Text

'The horse and the cow, the rabbit and the cat, the deer and the hare, the pheasant and the lark, please us better as friends than as meat. We wish to preserve them either as respected fellow-workers, or simply as companions in the joy of life and friendship.'

Men of such high standing in hygiene and biology having made a profound study of questions relating to normal food, I shall take good care not to display my incompetence by expressing an opinion as to animal and vegetable nourishment. Let the cobbler stick to his last. As I am neither chemist nor doctor, I shall not mention either azote or albumen, nor reproduce the formulas of analysts, but shall content myself simply with giving my own personal impressions, which, at all events, coincide with those of many vegetarians. I shall move within the circle of my own experiences, stopping here and there to set down some observation suggested by the petty incidents of life.

First of all I should say that the search for truth had nothing to do with the early impressions which made me a potential vegetarian while still a small boy wearing baby-frocks. I have a distinct remembrance of horror at the sight of blood. One of the family had sent me, plate in hand, to the village butcher, with the injunction to bring back some gory fragment or other. In all innocence I set out cheerfully to do as I was bid, and entered the yard where the slaughtermen were. I still remember this gloomy yard where terrifying men went to and fro with great knives, which they wiped on blood-besprinkled smocks. Hanging from a porch an enormous carcase seemed to me to occupy an extraordinary amount of space; from its white flesh a reddish liquid was trickling into the gutters. Trembling and silent I stood in this blood-stained yard incapable of going forward and too much terrified to run away. I do not know what happened to me; it has passed from my memory. I seem to have heard that I fainted, and that the kind-hearted butcher carried roe into his own house; I did not weigh more than one of those lambs he slaughtered every morning.

Other pictures cast their shadows over my childish years, and, like that glimpse of the slaughter-house, mark so many epochs in my life. I can see the sow belonging to some peasants, amateur butchers, and therefore all the more cruel. I remember one of them bleeding the animal slowly, so that the blood fell drop by drop; for, in order to make really good black puddings, it appears essential that the victim should have suffered proportionately. She cried without ceasing, now and then uttering groans and sounds of despair almost human; it seemed like listening to a child.

And in fact the domesticated pig is for a year or so a child of the house; pampered that he may grow fat, and returning a sincere affection for all the care lavished on him, which has but one aim — so many inches of bacon. But when the affection is reciprocated by the good woman who takes care of the pig, fondling him and speaking in terms of endearment to him, is she not considered ridiculous — as if it were absurd, even degrading, to love an animal that loves us?

One of the strongest impressions of my childhood is that of having witnessed one of those rural dramas, the forcible killing of a pig by a party of villagers in revolt against a dear old woman who would not consent to the murder of her fat friend. The village crowd burst into the pigstye and dragged the beast to the slaughter place where all the apparatus for the deed stood waiting, whilst the unhappy dame sank down upon a stool weeping quiet tears. I stood beside her and saw those tears without knowing whether I should sympathise with her grief, or think with the crowd that the killing of the pig was just, legitimate, decreed by common sense as well as by destiny.

Each of us, especially those who have lived in a provincial spot, far away from vulgar ordinary towns, where everything is methodically classed and disguised — each of us has seen something of these barbarous acts committed by flesh-eaters against the beasts they eat. There is no need to go into some Porcopolis of North America, or into a saladero of La Plata, to contemplate the horrors of the massacres which constitute the primary condition of our daily food. But these impressions wear off in time; they yield before the baneful influence of daily education, which tends to drive the individual towards mediocrity, and takes out of him anything that goes to the making of an original personality. Parents, teachers, official or friendly, doctors, not to speak of the powerful individual whom we call “everybody,” all work together to harden the character of the child with respect to this “four-footed food,” which, nevertheless, loves as we do, feels as we do, and, under our influence, progresses or retrogresses as we do.

It is just one of the sorriest results of our flesh-eating habits that the animals sacrificed to man’s appetite have been systematically and methodically made hideous, shapeless, and debased in intelligence and moral worth. The name even of the animal into which the boar has been transformed is used as the grossest of insults; the mass of flesh we see wallowing in noisome pools is so loathsome to look at that we agree to avoid all similarity of name between the beast and the dishes we make out of it. What a difference there is between the moufflon’s appearance and habits as he skips about upon the mountain rocks, and that of the sheep which has lost all individual initiative and becomes mere debased flesh — so timid that it dares not leave the flock, running headlong into the jaws of the dog that pursues it. A similar degradation has befallen the ox, whom now-a-days we see moving with difficulty in the pastures, transformed by stock-breeders into an enormous ambulating mass of geometrical forms, as if designed beforehand for the knife of the butcher. And it is to the production of such monstrosities we apply the term “breeding”! This is how man fulfils his mission as educator with respect to his brethren, the animals.

For the matter of that, do we not act in like manner towards all Nature? Turn loose a pack of engineers into a charming valley, in the midst of fields and trees, or on the banks of some beautiful river, and you will soon see what they would do. They would do everything in their power to put their own work in evidence, and to mask Nature under their heaps of broken stones and coal. All of them would be proud, at least, to see their locomotives streaking the sky with a network of dirty yellow or black smoke. Sometimes these engineers even take it upon themselves to improve Nature. Thus, when the Belgian artists protested recently to the Minister of Railroads against his desecration of the most beautiful parts of the Meuse by blowing up the picturesque rocks along its banks, the Minister hastened to assure them that henceforth they should have nothing to complain about, as he would pledge himself to build all the new workshops with Gothic turrets!

In a similar spirit the butchers display before the eyes of the public, even in the most frequented streets, disjointed carcasses, gory lumps of meat, and think to conciliate our æstheticism by boldly decorating the flesh they hang out with garlands of roses!

When reading the papers, one wonders if all the atrocities of the war in China are not a bad dream instead of a lamentable reality. How can it be that men having had the happiness of being caressed by their mother, and taught in school the words “justice” and “kindness,” how can it be that these wild beasts with human faces take pleasure in tying Chinese together by their garments and their pigtails before throwing them into a river? How is it that they kill off the wounded, and make the prisoners dig their own graves before shooting them? And who are these frightful assassins? They are men like ourselves, who study and read as we do, who have brothers, friends, a wife or a sweetheart; sooner or later we run the chance of meeting them, of taking them by the hand without seeing any traces of blood there.

But is there not some direct relation of cause and effect between the food of these executioners, who call themselves “agents of civilisation,” and their ferocious deeds? They, too, are in the habit of praising the bleeding flesh as a generator of health, strength, and intelligence. They, too, enter without repugnance the slaughter house, where the pavement is red and slippery, and where one breathes the sickly sweet odour of blood. Is there then so much difference between the dead body of a bullock and that of a man? The dissevered limbs, the entrails mingling one with the other, are very much alike : the slaughter of the first makes easy the murder of the second, especially when a leader’s order rings out, or from afar comes the word of the crowned master, “Be pitiless.”

A French proverb says that “every bad case can be defended.” This saying had a certain amount of truth in it so long as the soldiers of each nation committed their barbarities separately, for the atrocities attributed to them could afterwards be put down to jealousy and national hatred. But in China, now, the Russians, French, English, and Germans have not the modesty to attempt to screen each other. Eyewitnesses, and even the authors themselves, have sent us information in every language, some cynically, and others with reserve. The truth is no longer denied, but a new morality has been created to explain it. This morality says there are two laws for mankind, one applies to the yellow races and the other is the privilege of the white. To assassinate or torture the first named is, it seems, henceforth permissible, whilst it is wrong to do so to the second.

Is not our morality, as applied to animals, equally elastic? Harking on dogs to tear a fox to pieces teaches a gentleman how to make his men pursue the fugitive Chinese. The two kinds of hunt belong to one and the same “sport”; only, when the victim is a man, the excitement and pleasure are probably all the keener. Need we ask the opinion of him who recently invoked the name of Attila, quoting this monster as a model for his soldiers?

It is not a digression to mention the horrors of war in connection with the massacre of cattle and carnivorous banquets. The diet of individuals corresponds closely to their manners. Blood demands blood. On this point any one who searches among his recollections of the people whom he has known will find there can be no possible doubt as to the contrast which exists between vegetarians and coarse eaters of flesh, greedy drinkers of blood, in amenity of manner, gentleness of disposition and regularity of life.

It is true these are qualities not highly esteemed by those “superior persons,” who, without being in any way better than other mortals, are always more arrogant, and imagine they add to their own importance by depreciating the humble and exalting the strong. According to them, mildness signifies feebleness : the sick are only in the way, and it would be a charity to get rid of them. If they are not killed, they should at least be allowed to die. But it is just these delicate people who resist disease better than the robust. Full-blooded and high-coloured men are not always those who live longest : the really strong are not necessarily those who carry their strength on the surface, in a ruddy complexion, distended muscle, or a sleek and oily stoutness. Statistics could give us positive information on this point, and would have done so already, but for the numerous interested persons who devote so much time to grouping, in battle array, figures, whether true or false, to defend their respective theories.

But, however this may be, we say simply that, for the great majority of vegetarians, the question is not whether their biceps and triceps are more solid than those of the flesh-eaters, nor whether their organism is better able to resist the risks of life and the chances of death, which is even more important : for them the important point is the recognition of the bond of affection and goodwill that links man to the so-called lower animals, and the extension to these our brothers of the sentiment which has already put a stop to cannibalism among men. The reasons which might be pleaded by anthropophagists against the disuse of human flesh in their customary diet would be as well-founded as those urged by ordinary flesh-eaters today. The arguments that were opposed to that monstrous habit are precisely those we vegetarians employ now. The horse and the cow, the rabbit and the cat, the deer and the hare, the pheasant and the lark, please us better as friends than as meat. We wish to preserve them either as respected fellow-workers, or simply as companions in the joy of life and friendship.

“But,” you will say, “if you abstain from the flesh of animals, other flesh-eaters, men or beasts, will eat them instead of you, or else hunger and the elements will combine to destroy them.” Without doubt the balance of the species will be maintained, as formerly, in conformity with the chances of life and the inter-struggle of appetites; but at least in the conflict of the races the profession of destroyer shall not be ours. We will so deal with the part of the earth which belongs to us as to make it as pleasant as possible, not only for ourselves, but also for the beasts of our household. We shall take up seriously the educational rôle which has been claimed by man since prehistoric times. Our share of responsibility in the transformation of the existing order of things does not extend beyond ourselves and our immediate neighbourhood. If we do but little, this little will at least be our work.

One thing is certain, that if we held the chimerical idea of pushing the practice of our theory to its ultimate and logical consequences, without caring for considerations of another kind, we should fall into simple absurdity. In this respect the principle of vegetarianism does not differ from any other principle; it must be suited to the ordinary conditions of life. It is clear that we have no intention of subordinating all our practices and actions, of every hour and every minute, to a respect for the life of the infinitely little; we shall not let ourselves die of hunger and thirst, like some Buddhist, when the microscope has shown us a drop of water swarming with animalculæ. We shall not hesitate now and then to cut ourselves a stick in the forest, or to pick a flower in a garden; we shall even go so far as to take a lettuce, or cut cabbages and asparagus for our food, although we fully recognise the life in the plant as well as in animals. But it is not for us to found a new religion, and to hamper ourselves with a sectarian dogma; it is a question of making our existence as beautiful as possible, and in harmony, so far as in us lies, with the æsthetic conditions of our surroundings.

Just as our ancestors, becoming disgusted with eating their fellow-creatures, one fine day left off serving them up to their tables; just as now, among flesh-eaters, there are many who refuse to eat the flesh of man’s noble companion, the horse, or of our fireside pets, the dog and cat — so is it distasteful to us to drink the blood and chew the muscle of the ox, whose labour helps to grow our corn. We no longer want to hear the bleating of sheep, the bellowing of bullocks, the groans and piercing shrieks of the pigs, as they are led to the slaughter. We aspire to the time when we shall not have to walk swiftly to shorten that hideous minute of passing the haunts of butchery with their rivulets of blood and rows of sharp hooks, whereon carcasses are hung up by blood-stained men, armed with horrible knives. We want some day to live in a city where we shall no longer see butchers’ shops full of dead bodies side by side with drapers’ or jewellers’, and facing a druggist’s, or hard by a window filled with choice fruits, or with beautiful books, engravings or statuettes, and works of art. We want an environment pleasant to the eye and in harmony with beauty.

And since physiologists, or better still, since our own experience tells us that these ugly joints of meat are not a form of nutrition necessary for our existence, we put aside all these hideous foods which our ancestors found agreeable, and the majority of our contemporaries still enjoy. We hope before long that flesh-eaters will at least have the politeness to hide their food. Slaughter houses are relegated to distant suburbs; let the butchers’ shops be placed there too, where, like stables, they shall be concealed in obscure corners.

It is on account of the ugliness of it that we also abhor vivisection and all dangerous experiments, except when they are practised by the man of science on his own person. It is the ugliness of the deed which fills us with disgust when we see a naturalist pinning live butterflies into his box, or destroying an ant-hill in order to count the ants. We turn with dislike from the engineer who robs Nature of her beauty by imprisoning a cascade in conduit-pipes, and from the Californian woodsman who cuts down a tree, four thousand years old and three hundred feet high, to show its rings at fairs and exhibitions. Ugliness in persons, in deeds, in life, in surrounding Nature — this is our worst foe. Let us become beautiful ourselves, and let our life be beautiful!

What then are the foods which seem to correspond better with our ideal of beauty both in their nature and in their needful methods of preparation? They are precisely those which from all time have been appreciated by men of simple life; the foods which can do best without the lying artifices of the kitchen. They are eggs, grains, fruits; that is to say, the products of animal and vegetable life which represent in their organisms both the temporary arrest of vitality and the concentration of the elements necessary to the formation of new lives. The egg of the animal, the seed of the plant, the fruits of the tree, are the end of an organism which is no more, and the beginning of an organism which does not yet exist. Man gets them for his food without killing the being that provides them, since they are formed at the point of contact between two generations. Do not our men of science who study organic chemistry tell us, too, that the egg of the animal or plant is the best storehouse of every vital element? Omne vivum ex ovo.

Elisée Reclus / On Vegetarianism *1901

(translation Edward Carpenter)

#Élisée Reclus #edward carpenter #vegetarian #vegan #vivisection #beauty #friendship

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spideyzgirl · 2 years

Text

↳*falling for you* ༉‧₊˚✧

summary: you can’t seem to stay conscious long enough to talk to peter

warnings: fluff, some angst, a little dramatic

tom!peter x shy!reader

wc: 1.5k

taglist | masterlist

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

you weren’t sure what it was about peter parker that drove you crazy, but you knew your tremendous crush on him played a factor in it.

it was starting to become a problem though, as you found yourself fainting each time you saw him. it was like your brain went on airplane mode at the mere sight of him.

“i call it the peter parker phenomenon.” mj blurted, as she watched you try your best to keep from looking at peter, who was a few lockers down to your right.

you cocked your head at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“you know, the way you just pass out when you see peter? that’s really embarrassing by the way, you should probably go see someone about that.”

“it’s not my fault. i can’t help it if he so cute, thoughtful, and sweet. i once saw him free a dog who got his head stuck in a bike rack, while other people just walked by.”

mj rolled her eyes and sighed as you went on with your rant.

“and he smells so good michelle. i once got close enough to him, and he kind of smells like cinnamon- or apple pie? one or the other. i can’t tell. all i know is that- what are you doing?”

mj had wrapped her arms around you, almost hugging you, in the middle of your rant.

“peters coming, i don’t want you to fall.��

“what!? mj let go, seriously! i have to go, right now.”

you pried at her hands and flailed like a fish out of water, but she surprisingly didn’t let up.

“too late, he’s here.”

you immediately stopped struggling as you locked eyes with him accidentally, and already felt yourself becoming lightheaded.

“hey guys, i was gonna ask you something but i feel like i’m interrupting… whatever this is.” he trailed off.

“oh please, go ahead and ask. we’re not doing anything, right y/n?”

the last thing you heard was peter muttering something as your body went limp, mimicking a rag doll. your head fell back onto mjs shoulder as she carried your weight.

“is she alright? she doesn’t look well.” peter pointed out.

“oh she’s just… acting! she’s in a drama class. she’s trying to see how many people she can fool into thinking she fainted. isn’t she so talented?”

peter gasped and poked at your eye gently, to see if you would move.

“woah, you’re really good y/n! she’s not even flinching.”

mj was starting to struggle holding your weight as she dragged your limp body while backing away from peter.

“yup, she’s going to broadway for sure. we’ll see you later okay?”

before he could respond, mj turned and dragged you down the hall towards the nurse.

the nurse let you go with a sip of water after you woke up. this wasn’t even your fifth visit to her, so she knew about your peter situation all too well.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

you were embarrassed about what happened, as you’ve never actually fainted in front of peter before. you didn’t want to show your face around him much anymore, he probably thought you were strange now.

as you were walking home from school, you decided to stop by delmars for something to eat.

you grabbed a few other snacks and walked back to the counter to pay, running into the one and only peter parker.

“oh, hey y/n. or should i say broadway star?”

you froze like a deer caught in headlights, and even dropped your gummy worms on the ground.

he picked them up and handed them to you. “these are my favorite kind. how’d you know?”

you couldn’t speak, you felt if you opened your mouth you would’ve thrown up on him. you desperately wished mj was there to save you again.

“i- um…” you felt yourself getting dizzy again, but you were determined on not falling out in front of him again.

you left your things on the counter and ran out the front door, with peter shouting after you. the way you acted around peter made you feel utterly ridiculous. crying felt like best option as you ran home, so you let hot, frustrated tears fall down your cheeks.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

the next day wasn’t much better as you found yourself hiding behind your locker door, avoiding peter like the plague.

“the peter parker phenomenon got a hold of you again, huh?” mj popped up randomly, making you jump.

“how’d you know? who told you?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“the devil himself. he thinks you hate him, you know. he said you ran away from him or something.”

you gasped quietly. the one person who you were hopelessly falling in love with, thought you hated him.

“what? that’s ridiculous! it’s nothing like that, you know it.”

“i do, but he doesn’t. just tell him y/n. if you don’t, he’ll slip right through your fingers.”

“i would tell him, except i don’t want the rejection that follows,” you shrugged. “besides, how am i supposed to tell him when i can barely get a word out around him? i couldn’t even stay conscious long enough if i tried.”

mjs eyes shifted past you, landing on peter, who was hesitantly approaching you.

“well, here’s your chance now,” your eyes widen as you realized what she meant. “you got this y/n, just… don’t be yourself.” she gave you a tight smile followed by a thumbs up, and turned to leave you on your own.

you turned around slowly, being met with peters polite smile.

“y/n can i talk to you?”

you couldn’t find words, and decided to remove yourself from the situation. it was a tough decision, but if you couldn’t talk to him, then you shouldn’t be with him.

you stepped back, beginning to turn away from him but he stopped you, grabbing on to your wrist. you flinched at the sudden contact, feeling sparks run through your arm.

“please don’t run away from me again.”

you shook your head at him, as your voice came out quiet. “peter, i- i need to go before i-“

“it’ll be really quick i swear just- woah, are you okay?”

you fell against your locker, feeling yourself become lightheaded around him once again. he grabbed your shoulders straightening your stance and you grabbed onto his arms.

you were shocked with yourself. you spoke more than 3 words to him, and you were still kind of standing.

“i’m fine i’m just- i just got dizzy…”

“i have a water bottle in my bag. hold on…” he held onto you with one hand as he gave you his water.

you took it with a shaky hand, and sipped from it, feeling your dizziness start to subside. your heart was beating throughout this whole interaction with him. you never saw yourself in this situation, you didn’t know how you were still standing.

“do you feel better now?”

you nodded, avoiding eye contact with him as you realized how close you were to him, which didn’t help with your attempt to stabilize your breath.

“y/n, what’s going on with you? why did you run away from me yesterday? i’m worried about you.”

“you- you’re worried about me?”

“of course, i care about you. a lot actually. that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

he lifted your chin with his finger, forcing you to look into his eyes. he smiled when he could finally see them up close.

“y/n, i really like you. i think you’re amazing and smart and talented. i mean, i thought you actually fainted yesterday. that was amazing.”

you fought a smile, you never thought in your life you’d hear those words come from him. to say you were elated was an understatement.

“oh, i did…”

“wait, what? you actually fainted?” he frowned.

“yeah… i’ve never had the best luck trying to talk to you. i’d always get so nervous around you that i’d faint trying. that’s why i ran away from you last night.” you debated on telling him this, but you remembered what mj said, and you figured you should go for it.

“peter, i like you so much. like a lot. i’ve never felt so sure about wanting to be with someone in my life.” you confessed.

you weren’t sure where this newfound confidence came from, but you used it to the best of your ability.

“well, you’ll never have to be that nervous around me again, because i want you to be my girl. do you want that?”

“yes, i do. more than anything.” you answered almost instantly.

he chuckled at your eagerness and slowly leaned in to kiss you, but mj suddenly popped up, sighing loudly.

“finally! i’ll never have to drag your heavy ass down a hallway again. although, i won’t complain. have you seen my biceps lately? i should be thanking you y/n.”

you giggled at your friend and hugged peter, you were proud of yourself for finally being able to do so.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

taglist 🏷

@niallhoransupremacy @raajali3 @crazyknight @evermoresilk @hqllandxx @popeheywardssecretgf

#mcu fanfiction #mcu!peter parker #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!spiderman x reader #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #tom!peter x reader #tom!spiderman #tom!peter parker

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octaviasdread · 3 years

Note

any girls! dark academia movie recs? i really struggle to find anything not about a group of boys (as much as I love them)

SO MANY!!! This is probably a far more detailed answer than you were expecting but this is a popular question and I want to keep a list for myself and others.

Feel free to add to it/give opinions. I've tried to give a tw for anything I can remember

Girls! Dark Academia Movies/TV Shows

Mona Lisa Smile (2003)

1950s Women’s college

Art professor! Julia Roberts

She’s legit the female Mr Keating of the art & college world

Feminism vs. Tradition

Maggie Gyllenhall x Ginnifer Goodwin; their characters were more than friends. Fight me.

Does not end how you expect

Strike!/All I Wanna Do/The Hairy Bird (1998)

MY FAVOURITE!!!

Free on YouTube under one of its various names

Comedy

1960s all girls boarding school

Young Kirsten Dunst

Group of girls plot to sabotage a merger with a boys school less prestigious than their own

Secret attic clubhouse meetings of the D.A.R aka Daughters of the American Ravioli (eaten cold, ew)

girls get political & advocate for their rights using ANY elaborate and chaotic scheme

TW: eating disorder, vomiting & creepy male teacher but the girls plot against him too

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1969)

based on a short book I read for uni by Muriel Spark

1930s girls school in Edinburgh

Scottish teacher! Maggie Smith, controversial with a focus on romantic ideals

Spoiler alert, the liberal teacher is actually a fascist

Her group of fave students has cult- vibes and it’s fascinating

Picnic at Hanging Rock

1970s movie or 2018 mini series

Never watched either but I plan to

Wild Child (2008)

00s romcom every UK teen girl loves

Emma Roberts as the spoiled rich American teenager sent to a strict English boarding school

Plots to get herself expelled but oh no she’s making friends with the girls who help her

And the headmistress has a hot son, and he’s nice??? Double oh no

ICONIC SCENES

Everything! Goes! Wrong!

omg she burns the school down

Feel good, comfort, nostalgia

St Trinians (2007)

English girls boarding school

The kids are all criminals, no joke

So are the teachers

CHAOTIC

gay awakening for british girls

Art heist pulled off by school girls

Government tries to shut them down but oh no, the education minister & the headmistress are ex-lovers

Colin Firth x Rupert Everett in drag

Superior cast: Jodie Whittaker, Gemma Arterton, Juno Temple, Stephen Fry, Colin Firth, etc...

embodies the phrase 'problematic fave'

St Trinians 2: The Legend of Fritton’s Gold (2009)

Mystery, pirate ancestors, hidden treasure

omg Shakespeare was a woman

girls disguised as boys to infiltrate and rob the posh boys school

Villain! David Tennant in that ICONIC boat scene

Teen girls vs. ancient misogynist brotherhood

like the first film but MORE chaotic and BETTER!???

The Falling (2014)

1960s all girls school

best friends! but its unrequited love

Agoraphobic + distant mother aka mommy issues

Sudden death and the school suppresses/ignores the students grief, sparking mass hysteria & a fainting epidemic in the girls

Cast: Maisie Williams (GoT) & Florence Pugh (Little Women) & Joe Cole (Peaky Blinders)

TW: teen pregnancy, death, vomiting, underage s*x, sibling inc*st, past s*xual assault

READ THE PLOT SUMMARY FIRST

The Book Thief (2013)

Based on an amazing book by Markus Zusak

set in 1940s Nazi Germany

Daughter of a communist whose family were taken by the Nazis/died is fostered by an older couple who teach her to read & she paints a dictionary on the basement walls

Coming of age story about a compulsive book thief. No joke, this kid steals books from banned book burnings and breaks into the mayor's library through the window

Family hides the Jewish son of an old friend in their basement and he helps her to start writing about her experiences in the war

TW: death, bombings, WW2 anti-semitism

Mary Shelley (2017)

Overall good & roughly biographical

Pretty costumes and aesthetic

Modern feminist take on Mary Shelly in her own time period

So many INACCURACIES for the drama so don’t take it as truth

Percy Shelley slander and not all of it is justified

Cast: Elle Fanning, Douglas Booth, and Maisie Williams

The Secret Garden (1993)

Based on a fave childhood book

1901 colonial India & Yorkshire, England

Orphaned, spoilt & neglected girl sent to live with her reclusive Uncle in the English countryside

Gothic elements, mysteries, secret doors/passages/locked gardens

local boy with a flock of animals, magic, kids chanting around a fire and all around immaculate vibes

Happy ending!!!

Hidden Figures (2016)

African-American women as mathematicians for NASA

1960s space project

Women balancing a career and family obligations

Deals with racial & gender discrimination

Loosely based on the lives of Katherine Johnson, Mary Jackson, and Dorothy Vaughan who worked for NASA as engineers & mathematicians

Anne of Green Gables (1985) & sequel (1987)

Adaptation L.M. Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’ books

Canada (late 1890s/early 1900s)

Highly imaginative & bookworm orphan is adopted by a reclusive elderly brother and sister duo

Small town & school years comedic drama

Unrequited Enemies -> Friends -> lovers

Inspiring new woman teacher

Girls re-enact Tennyson’s poem and nearly drown for the aesthetic™

Dramatic poetry reading with INTENSE 👀eye contact👀

Writer! Anne & English teacher! Anne dealing with unruly girls school antics

Collette (2018)

biographical drama on french writer Sidonie-Gabrielle Collette

Victorian & Edwardian era France

More talented than her husband so she ghostwrites for him

Fight for creative ownership of her wildly successful novels

Affairs with a woman called Georgie and also with Missy, born female but masculine presenting

Cast: Keira Knightly, Dominic West, Eleanor Tomlinson (Poldark)

Enola Holmes (2020)

Netflix book adaptation

Younger sister of Sherlock Holmes

Victorian era! feminism/suffragettes

Mother-daughter focus

Mystery, adventure, secret codes, teens running away & escaping from (and eventually fighting) assassins

Cast: Helena Bonham Carter, Henry Cavill, Sam Claflin, Fiona Shaw, Millie Bobby Brown

Ginger & Rosa (2012)

1960s England

best friends since literal birth navigating troubled teen years

poet & anti-nuclear activist! Ginger

off the rails but also catholic! Rosa

Shout out to Mark & Mark the gay godfathers we all want

family troubles

TW: older man has an affair with a 17 yr old

Testament of Youth (2014)

based on WW1 memoir by Vera Brittain

young woman (writer & poetry lover) escapes traditional family & goes to study at Oxford University

abandons to become a war nurse

romance, tragedy and war trauma

Cast: Alicia Vikander, Kit Harrington (GoT), Taron Edgerton (Rocketman), Colin Morgan (Merlin)

Little Women (2019)

Writer! Jo & Artist! Amy

Mother/daughter focus and sister dynamics

the March sisters’ theatre club is *chefs kiss*

champagne problems edits of Jo x Laurie are a mood

Ambivalent ending perfectly captures Louisa May Alcott’s dilemma with the book the movie is based on

set in 1860s America

ALL STAR CAST and a Greta Gerwig masterpeice

Lady Bird (2017)

coming of age in early 2002/2003 Sacramento, California

all girls catholic school

writer! Christine aka Lady Bird wants to get outta town and start her life again at college 'in a city with culture'

Mother/daughter dynamics - so realistic!

I live for that Jesus car stunt & the nun's reaction

school theatre program

Cast: Saoirse Ronan, Timothee Chalamet, Beanie Feldstein

Another Greta Gerwig gem

Beguiled (2017)

Virginia, civil war era

Girls school with only five students and two teachers left

Find an injured Union army soldier & bring him inside

Women & teenagers want his attention (v. problematic) before uniting against him

(tbh you'll either love it, hate it, or watch once & forget it)

Sofia Coppola film so its very feminine gaze

TW: violence, death, underage

Legally Blonde (2001)

No questions will be taken

Elle Woods was the blue print

TV series:

House of Anubis (2011-2013)

I know it’s a kids/young teen show but I still unironically love it

ANCIENT EGYPT!!!!

Modern day with Victorian era links to treasure hunters & Egyptian research expeditions (stealing from tombs)

Chosen one plot lines, curses, kidnapping, mysteries, secret tunnels under the school, elixir of life

Teens have investigate & protect themselves cus oh no the TEACHERS are involved in some shady stuff

new American kid at British boarding school is the actual premise not just a fanfic au

Nostalgic, light-hearted, funny, and kinda cheesy but I will accept no criticism

The Alienist (2018 -now)

Mid 1890s, New York

Woman’s private detective agency (Season 2)

Serial killer mystery

Woman secretary turns detective and teams up with a criminal psychiatrist and a newspaper editor to solve crime

TW: violence, child pr*stit*tion

Cast: Dakota Fanning, Luke Evans, Daniel Bruhl

The Queen’s Gambit (2020)

Woman chess prodigy

1950s & 1960s

TW: drug & alcohol abuse

Gentleman Jack (2019 - now)

Based on the diaries of Anne Lister

Victorian Yorkshire, England

Upper-class lesbians

Confident, suit wearing! Anne Lister x shy! Ann Walker

Business woman! Anne running the family mines

Cast: Suranne Jones (Doctor Foster) & Sophie Rundle (Peaky Blinders)

TW: violence

Gilmore Girls (2000-2007)

bubbly/ambitious single mom + intelligent daughter

bookworm! Rory Gilmore gets into a prestigious private school and then an Ivy League college

Small town drama is comedic gold

Fast dialogue packed with pop culture and literary references

Comforting & nostalgic

TEAM JESS

Anne with an E (2017-2019)

Loose adaptation of L.M. Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’ books

they completely change the plot lines but it’s still very good content!

Orphan girl with trauma and a love of books/poetry is adopted by an elderly brother & sister duo, bringing light and fresh ideas to a rural community

Feminism, girls writing club, lgbtq safe spaces, girls eduction, black/indigenous representation

Miss Stacy as THAT inspiring teacher

Aunt Josephine’s lavish gay parties have my heart

TW: creepy male teacher tries to marry a student, racial discrimination, indigenous assimilation school

Victoria (2016-2019)

Adaption of Queen Victoria’s life

Victoria navigating her political, royal, and personal life

Albert’s involvement with The Great Exhibition, 1851 (on cultural + industrial innovations)

Alfred Paget x Edward Drummond is exquisite

Gorgeous costumes and aesthetics

TW: bury your gays trope

Derry Girls (2018-now)

1990s Northern Ireland during the troubles

Comedy, episodes 20-25 mins long

English boy sent to an all girls Catholic school with his cousin

✨Dead Poets Society parody episode ✨with a free-spirited female teacher

Sister Michael, the sarcastic nun who hates her job & reads the exorcist for giggles

Wee anxious lesbian! Clare Devlin (plus her friends wearing rainbow pins)

Badass with bad ideas! Michelle Mallon

Main Character! Erin Quinn

Lovable weirdo who would fight a polar bear! Orla McCool

Wee English fella & honorary Derry girl! James Maguire

Dickinson (2019-now)

Loose adaption of the poet Emily Dickinson’s life

Set in 19th century Massachusetts, US

Historical drama with modern dialogue & music that works SEAMLESSLY

gives a great understanding of Emily Dickinson’s poems

💕Vintage gays! Emily x Sue💕

Theatre club, writing, poetry, dressing as men to sneak into lectures, love letters, teen drama, feminism, and an underground abolitionist journal as a brief side plot in season 2

Wiz Khalifa plays death in a horse drawn carriage

TW: opium use

A Series of Unfortunate Events (2017-2019)

Based on great childhood books

Bookworm! brother, Inventor! sister, and baby sister with sharp teeth

Mystery, secret organisations, orphaned siblings figuring things out & fending for themselves against the villain after their fortune

Adults either cartoon evil, comedically incompetent, or SPIES

Boarding school, library owner, scientific researcher, and theatre episodes

Ambiguous time period which is really fun to try and pin point

Killing Eve (2018-now)

Classic detective who has homoerotic tension with the assassin she is tracking down

British Detective! Eve Polastri figures out the notorious assassin MI5 are investigating is a woman, is fired & then put on a secret MI6 case with a small team

Assassin! Villanelle, a psychopath with a tragic past and a mastery of both accents & fashion

Woman MI6 boss! Carolyn Martens, head of Russian section

Travel Europe following Villanelle’s killings and escaping the assassins sent by Villanelle’s organisation

‘You’re supposed to be my enemy and moral opposite but omg you’re the only one smart enough to get me and why am I obsessed with you????'

🚨 GO IN FOR A KISS AND THEN STAB YOUR ENEMY 🚨

Cable Girls/Las chicas del cable (2017-2020)

Spanish drama set in 1920s Madrid

Four young women at a telecommunications company form a group of friends and help navigate the difficult situations they are all in

Secret identities, dangerous pasts, murder, crime, lgbtq couple & throuple, trans man character, feminism/suffragists

girls commit crimes for humanitarian reasons and cover! it! up!

UNDERRATED SHOW!!!!

Gorgeous costumes and set

Haven’t finished it yet and I’m catching up

TW: abuse, violence, death

Outlander (2014 - now)

haven’t watched yet but plan to

Woman time travels to Scotland, 1743

Rebel highlanders, pirates, British colonies, American revolutionary war

Time jumps between 18th & 20th century

#CO posts #answered asks #asks #dark academia girls #dark academia recommendations #dark academia recs #dark academia women #dark academia movies #dark academia tv

1K notes · View notes

f1united · 3 years

Text

Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time.

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments.

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head.

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet.

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?"

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying.

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note.

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far?

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level.

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips.

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss.

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak

#f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #pierre gasly #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #valteri bottas #carlos sainz

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daydreams-magic01 · 3 years

Text

They didn’t break up

(Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!Potter!Reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

Main Masterlist

Requested by: Anon

Fandom: Harry Potter (Golden Trio Era)

House: Gryffindor

Request: “ Hey! Could you write a Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!Potter!reader. Y/N and Draco have been dating since first year but haven’t told anyone. Pansy and Blaise are dating and know about Y/N and Draco because the 4 of them are best friends. Harry and Y/N get into an argument when they return to Hogwarts after the war and he says that she has no friends. The next day the 4 walk into the great hall and the golden trio see that Harry’s sister is engaged to Draco and is best friends with their enemies. Thanks 💞 “

Thank you so much for requesting!

Warnings: Harry is out of character, slightly, for drama, and there is swearing.

Words:1.8K

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog: @daydreams-magic01 .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.

Thank you.

“I like your eyes.”

That is the first thing that Draco Malfoy said to his girlfriend (Y/n) when they first met. After all, he was entranced by her, knowing since that moment that he wants to marry her.

He became further entranced when she mentioned his huge quantities of hair gel and when she defended that ‘filthy mudblood’ Granger.

Why would a woman of her stature mingle with such things?

Then again, although respected, Potters are ‘Mudwallowers’.

He asked her out after her brother’s first game after the Slytherin’s had all sulked away back to their common room, his mates had all left, and everyone was surrounding Harry.

He made quick to pull her aside into a dark, hidden corner.

She said no.

So he asked again, a few days after Quirrell fainted in front of the entire school. When he heard she fought a Troll he had a heart attack.

She said no, again.

He always made sure to be discrete when asking her out.

He didn’t want anyone to know after all.

She finally said yes after the detention in the forbidden forest, when he practically saved her life.

In reality, he grabbed her and dragged the distressed girl from her brother.

The two hit a rough patch when he called her best friend a ‘Mud-blood’, and she gave him the cold shoulder for almost four weeks.

They made up.

They hit another rough patch when he got Buckbeak executed, and he was happier to receive the punch from Hermione rather than (Y/n), not that she would ever hit him.

They made up their relationship still a secret.

Forth year made another rough patch when he asked Pansy to the ball rather than her. However, he did not make a good impression as a date, and she and Pansy came close over this.

They made up.

Their fifth year became worse, full of betrayal as he snitched to Umbridge, landing her three months in detention. He said she and Blaise were caught snogging when it was them two. Blaise and her bonded over this, and the rumour was instantly shut down, rather quickly after her brother hexed the git.

They made up.

She told Blaise.

He truly didn’t understand a relationship until his sixth year, when he was forced to join the death eaters.

Thankfully, his god-father trained him in Occlumency so that no memories of her were revealed.

His understanding increased when they finally took the next step in their relationship.

They didn’t need to make up.

She, Blaise and Pansy became close as they worried over Draco, becoming fast friends.

She told Pansy.

She defended him against her brother, but when it turned out he was right, her heart broke.

Draco made no move to help her.

She refused to acknowledge his existence.

They did not acknowledge each other until Malfoy Manor when he had his wand against her throat.

Despite the stinging hex, he still knew it was her.

The two did not break up.

They didn’t speak when she saved his life.

Yet, they did not break up.

They did not speak as he walked to his mother’s side.

They had no chance to break up.

They finally spoke after the battle when he walked over to her and apologised.

The two knew they did not want to break up.

Two months later, by August the two had become close again, best friends with the now dating Pansy and Blaise.

(Y/n) and Draco had no chance to spend the summer together, but they long to see each other in the repeating seventh year, their eighth year.

Life is now like a dream.

Yet, their relationship is still not known.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) does not understand why her brother is so aggravated; clearly, he is getting shagged, and he is happy but -

Ah, it could be because she hassled Ron and him into returning for their eighth year.

It just makes sense.

It’s not like Harry hates Hogwarts, he’s almost as infatuated with it as he is Ginny.

Thus why she has been very careful since the train ride to two weeks from then, today.

She has barely met up with her newest best friends, Blaise and Pansy, or Draco.

After all, she would hate to upset her brother.

She can’t help but long for the day where he will accept it, she knows he will at some point, but perhaps now is not the best time.

It has just been better to stay out of his way.

This is why she is now sat with Dean at a table by the window, playing Wizard Chess as Neville refereed, helping her every now and then with certain moves.

Who knows where Seamus is.

You can imagine her surprise when her brother walks into the crowded common room and scoffs, taking a seat on the main couch without the other two of his trio.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” (Y/n) asks, not looking up from her game, everyone else asks similar questions.

After all, Harry is a kind boy and it would be a shame to see him so upset. “Just came to annoy you. Was just arguing with Malfoy is all. He is still a git.” He jokes, trying to coax a laugh out of her.

She doesn’t take it as a joke, she is angry, upset and irritable after all. “I’m surprised that you recognise people exist out of Gryffindor.”

People gasp.

“I’m just surprised that you have other friends at all.”

No one speaks, but the majority of them do turn the gaze to her. She stops in her thinking for a second, trying not to be upset. Deciding he must be joking she lets out a small laugh before enouncing her move.

Fed-up, he scoffs again, turning to face her on his elbow on the back of the couch. “No, really, I am. Hermione and Ron too. Who knew you could actually make friends.”

Seamus somehow magically appears and steps between the two, as (Y/n) sharply turns to her brother, raising his hands in mock surrender, “now guys, no need to fight.”

Harry ignores him, “Usually you hang out with my friends.”

She sighs and decides to ignore him and the sadness swelling in her chest, “they’re my friends too, Harry. And at least I have friends outside of Gryffindor.”

“So do I. Are they? Or are they just friends with you because you cling around us all the time?”

Anyone who wasn’t listening before is now, for sure.

“I have other friends, you know, Harry, and didn’t I meet Hermione first?” She sarcastically lets out, enouncing her next move. “She liked me first, everyone always does.

Neville tries to make eye contact with her, but she does not look up.

“Well, you are the boy who lived’s sister after all.”

There’s an audible gasp from the majority of the room, but she does not back down.

Sighing sympathetically, she then tuts, “I am the girl who lived.”

“But I am the boy who lived.”

“Sexism is it?”

She has no idea what is with Harry, he never behaves like this, it’s completely out of character for him.

“Don’t be daft, I’m just saying I was first.”

“Just like in that game against Cedric.”

She doesn’t mean to upset him, only ground his ego as she momentarily forgets her dead friend.

Her brother shoots up and storms over, making her jump up as she looks up to him.

“Don’t say his name!”

“Merlin, Harry, he had other friends, you know.”

“But not you.”

“Excuse me? He’s been my friend since Second year.” Harry immediately scoffs and looks down at him, “yeah, right. Just like how Neville is totally friends with you and not because I am his dorm mate.”

“Excuse me!” Neville instantly steps in, “she is my friend, and not because of you, Harry.”

Harry pouts, “of course you are.”

(Y/n) does not understand why he is behaving like this; she assumes something awful must have happened as he has never behaved like this.

“Are you cursed?” She places her hand gently against his forehead as if his temperature will indicate.

“Nope, just me purely telling you you have no friends.”

“Oh,” she sighs, dropping her hand, and she pouts. Then her pout transforms into a smile, “well, this is just me purely telling you that the world doesn’t revolve around you and that you only have friends as you are famous, whereas it is because I am a good person.”

His mouth drops open.

Perhaps Harry is only messing with her.

“Plus, aren’t Hermione and Ron your only friends now.”“

At least I have friends you have none.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) kicks the ground by the courtyard angrily.

At least she has been in a long and stable relationship and didn’t break up with him 'for his safety'.

What presumptuous bullshit, the wanker.

“What's wrong with you, love?” Draco gently wraps his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

As if on reflex, she sinks into him, sighing softly and resting her eyes. Draco hums happily, gently rubbing her sides and midsection with his hands.

“My brother said I have no friends.”

The boy freezes, and his lip curls into a snarl. “Bloody Potter.”

“I know,” she scoffs, “but it’s just brothers and sisters playing, you understand.” She shuts her eyes again, leaning further into him.

Despite after the war, he began to eat properly, building up his strength so he can now hold her upright, whereas if it was the previous year when he was stressed, he wouldn’t have had the mental or physical strength to do so.

She made sure to fatten him up.

“No, I don’t know.”

She opens her eyes and holds back a groan.

There’s a pause.

“I don’t want our children to be so lonely.”

She audibly gasps and stands straight.

(Y/n) turns around, and her hands fly to her mouth as she sees him down on one knee.”

“I never thought that I would propose like this...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Hall audibly gasp as (Y/n) Potter walks into the Great Hall, hand-in-hand with Draco Malfoy, Blaise and Pansy alongside them, also hand-in-hand.

“Oh my god.” Hermione gasps.

“What?”

“Ron, Harry, I think she’s engaged.”

“What?” Harry shoots up, pulling his arm from Ginny.

“There it is, a ring I have most certainly seen on the hand of Narcissa Malfoy.

You can imagine what happened next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surprisingly, they didn’t break up.

Now they know they are going to be together for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x muggle!reader #draco malfoy x potter!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x gryffindor reader #Harry Potter x reader #neville longbottom x reader #ron weasley x reader #dean thomas x reader #seamus finnegan x reader #Fred weasley x reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #george weasley x reader

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may-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Safe With Me

summary: you’re married to mob!natasha and while she’s in a meeting you make yourself busy at the bar until things take a turn and Natasha has to come to your aid

word count: 1,055

warnings: choking, mentions of guns and mob activity ig

masterlist

a/n: the thought of mob!nat is so hot to me idk why 😳

((feel free to send in any request you may have))

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your eyes lit up as you watched the jazz band play on stage, a smile taking over your lips, watching in glee. as much as you didn't want to come to this bar so late at night, Natasha had some business to take care of and you knew the woman refused to leave you home so late so you tagged along to make your wife happy. now you were more than glad because you were sipping at your white wine, watching closely to the way the men played.

your fingers circled your wine glass, nodding your head to the music to show your appreciation. for a moment, your life felt normal, it reminded you of your life before Natasha. you missed your simple life dearly because admittedly, being married to Natasha brought a lot of unnecessary drama to your life. you loved her though and you wouldn't give her up for anything. despite the fights and arguments, you always found your way back into Natasha's arms.

"hey doll." a soft hand brushed against your shoulder causing you to flinch lightly but then it registered that no one's voice could ever be as smooth as hers.

"hi," you whispered back, leaning into the hand that caressed at the nape of your neck before she inched closer and pressed a kiss to your earlobe. she knew you were tired, she hated having you out so late but business called and she had to answer. even if she was in bed with you when her men called, it was her job as the leader. "this might run on later than we thought, dear." she husked out into your ear causing the smile that was tugged at your lips to tremble.

you knew what Natasha had done but you never asked for the specifics, you didn't want your outlook on her to change. you turned your head to look up at the woman, her hand coming up to caress softly at your cheek. "give me another hour, baby then we can go home and enjoy our night." you knew another hour could well on drag to two and you dreaded the thought of having to be there for a second longer.

"Okay." you pouted causing the woman to lean down to brush a kiss to your forehead and then another to your lips. you figured as long as the band stayed on stage, you could make it another hour but when Natasha left, you felt lonelier than ever.

---- after you drank yourself into oblivion, you decided it'd be a good time to go to the bathroom to freshen yourself up so Natasha couldn't comment on how sloppy you had gotten. before you could make it to the bathroom, you stumbled into a tall, well-built man. you hardly noticed bumping into him because you were so far gone. you looked up at him, his eyes burning a hole in your head.

you only now realized that you knocked all his drinks into his expensive attire before you could even apologize the man had you back into a corner. his eyes more fierce than before as you grew speechless. "I'm-" you tried but then you stumbled over your words and your cheeks burned up. you couldn't even continue if you found the courage to speak because his rough hand quickly gripped your neck as he held you firmly against the wall.

you felt like the man was slightly overreacting, all you had done was spilled a little bit of alcohol on him and now he was choking you tightly. "do you not know who I am, bitch?" he barked out as he reared his face closer to yours. your eyes pooled with tears as you stared him dead in the face, struggling against his hand lightly. you could still hear the faint music in the background but everything else was a blur until her soft voice flooded your ears.

"do you know who I am?" her voice boomed, roughly pushing her gun into the man's back. he swallowed hard as his hand released your throat turning around to see her scary gaze along with the men who stood behind her. you let out a muffled sob as your hands moved to your neck, swallowing thickly at the scene. you felt like a child in trouble when her hard gaze snapped over at you. "she's mine." she used her free hand to point over at you, he knew he messed up and there was only one way this would end for him.

she didn't give the man a second to plead his case as she uttered out to her trained men to get ruin of him and they all moved in sync gripping the guy up and tugging him away before he was out of your line of sight. your neck ached and it was only when you were certain that you were alone did you let yourself completely break down. your body shook from the sobs, Natasha was quick to make her way over to you, her hard demeanor breaking in a second. you were her soft spot, she'd only do those things for you and you knew it.

it made you feel special when you first met her, she only ever allowed herself to be the real her in front of you and you were more than grateful that she showed you herself without the front of being a stone-cold killer.

"aw, my poor baby," she whispered in a hushed tone, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks as she brushed away your tears.

"you're okay," she smiled weakly noticing the purple bruise that formed around your neck. she should've just let you stay home, it was far too late for you to be looking after yourself in a bar full of drunk, harsh men.

"what's gonna happen to the man?" you asked softly as you nuzzled your face into her chest. the frown on Natasha's lips deepened as she nudged you back a little to hook her fingers under your chin, staring you in the eyes when she tilted your head back.

"you're so considerate." she forced a smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "don't worry about him." you hated that she wouldn't give you a straight answer but you knew better than to press her on the issue.

"let's get you home, pretty girl."

#natasha romonova #natasha romanoff #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha #natasha marvel #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #marvel #avengers #the avengers #mob natasha

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falcqns · 3 years

Text

he's gone for good.

pairing: sub!Bucky x Reader

summary: Bucky informs you about Steve leaving.

warnings: angst, sub!Bucky, crying Bucky, mentions of violence.

a/n: hope you enjoy!

when you opened the door, and was greeted with a crying Bucky, you had no idea what to do.

you may had known Bucky for many years, but he was never open emotionally with you. in front of you, at least.

you two had met when you were studying abroad in Bucharest, and ended up moving in right beside him. you knew who he was right away, and you also knew that he was most likely on the run from HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D., so you never revealed that you knew who he was.

a week into living there, you found out he had nightmares, but it wasn't until a month later that you found the perfect cure for them, home cooked food.

you were up late doing some research for a paper, when you heard the beginnings of a nightmare. you usually heard the terror and scream filled ends, not the beginnings, but you listened anyways.

he was calling out for someone. it took you a few seconds to decode what and who he was calling out for, but when you realized, your heart broke for him. he was calling out for his mom. his calls became louder and more desperate, before coming to a head with a shout, then sobs of heartbreak. it made you think of your mom, hundreds of miles away. it wasn't until you remembered that he was born in 1917, so his mom was definitely dead, that you moved from your bed.

you ran into the kitchen and pulled out all the ingredients for some chocolate chip cookies. eating homemade cookies always soothed all your pain when you were little, and you didn't want to think about the kind of food HYDRA fed him on a daily basis, if they fed him at all. you also knew he most likely wasn't eating properly here, as you’d see him come back everyday with plums, along with some type of street food that he found.

didn't matter what the street food was, he always had plums accompanying it. a quick google search told you that plums helped improve memory, so that was that question answered. an hour later, and the cookies were done, and loaded into a spare Tupperware that you had lying around, with a note on top letting hi know that if he ever needed to talk, you were there.

you placed it outside his door, knocked, and retreated to your unit just in time. thanks to an abandoned body mirror that sat opposite the wall that separated the two units, you got to see the smile that spread on his face when he saw the cookies and read the letter.

after that day, it became tradition.

every time he would have a nightmare, you would give him some type of food. whether it was chicken parm, French onion soup, cookies, cake, donuts, or even chicken nuggets and fries that you Uber Eat’d from McDonalds, you always made sure he was comforted.

it wasn't until a month before you were due to move back to your home country that you saw him face to face for the first time. you were bringing him some white chocolate macadamia nut cookies when he opened the door. he had a coat, hat, and leather gloves on, indicating he was going out.

he smiled and blushed, before speaking. “so you're the lovely lady that cooks for me,” he said, and you laughed before handing him the container with cookies.

“yes I am. I just made some more, actually.” you said with a smile as he took the box from you, and looked inside.

“well, thank you doll. these look absolutely delicious, I can't wait to try them.” he said with a smile and you felt your cheeks heat up.

he placed the box down on the table next to the door, and turned back to you.

“well, I'll let you get on with your day,” you said, as you turned to head back to your unit.

“actually,” he said, and you turned to face him. “I was just going to go on a walk since it was my day off today. do you maybe want to come with me?” he asked, and you felt butterflies form in your stomach as you nodded.

“sure! just let me grab my coat.” you said.

then, just like the cooking, the afternoon walk became tradition. you two would walk and talk about anything. whether it be work, school, or building drama, you always had something to talk about.

on a certain walk through a quiet little park, he confessed who he was, and was surprised when all you said was “I know.” he’d asked if you were afraid, and you said no. he’d asked if you were planning on turning him in, and you also said no.

you’d explained that it was obvious that HYDRA had control of him, and that everyone deserved a second chance. after your little speech, he’d kissed you, and asked you out on a date. you'd accepted, and started dating after your first date.

then, he was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D.. the two of you had been at the market together when he saw a newspaper saying that he had killed King T’Chaka with a bomb at the UN. he swore, and dragged you home. the two of you blew past your unit, and headed into his where you were faced with Steve Rogers. this didn't surprise you, he'd told you what he could remember about Steve, and you were expecting him to show up eventually, you just weren't expecting it to be so soon.

you could hear someone else, Sam, over Steve’s comm, and realized that there were police here, to capture Bucky. upon hearing this, Bucky shoved you out of the apartment, and down the hallway, with Steve following. he’d led you to a back entrance that you didn't even know was there, and told you tp leave the building until everything was over.

he gave you one last hug and kiss, and your first ‘I love you’, and he was gone.

you hadn't heard from him for 2 years, when you got a letter from him. according to the letter he had been seeking refuge in Wakanda, and had been freed of the Winter Soldier. he invited you to come and visit, and you did. you got to watch him tend to his goats (which he named after every avenger, even Tony) and interact with the Wakandan people, and the children. who knew a former brainwashed HYDRA assassin could be so sweet with young children? definitely not you.

then, just as you were preparing to leave and look for a farm where Bucky could continue to raise his goats and be with you, King T’Challa came to Bucky and gifted him a new arm, and informed him of a new fight. Bucky had begged you to leave, but you wouldn't have it. you had been working out and training since the day that you watched him and Steve fight against the police in Bucharest, wanting nothing more than to run in there and protect him.

so, you fought. it felt surreal to you to be fighting with the Avengers beside you, although there was no place you’d rather be. in that moment, as you were racing towards those “space dogs”, as Rocket had called them at one point, you didn't care if you lived or died, won or lost. you only cared about fighting beside the love of your life.

watching that same love of your life fade away to dust in a beautiful Wakandan forest broke you in two. you had just gotten him back, and you’d lost him again. you were trapped in your own head for days, wishing to dust away like him, just to be with him.

before you knew it, 5 years had passed, and you had joined the remaining Avengers. how you went from studying abroad in Bucharest, to being an Avenger, you had no idea, but you were grateful nonetheless. when Steve, Natasha, and Scott approached you with the possibility that you would be able to get Bucky back, you instantly accepted.

you joined Tony, Steve and Scott, and helped Steve in the fight against himself. when Tony failed to get the Tesseract the first time, you joined them on their journey into 1970, and was blown away. it wasn't exactly the time that Bucky and Steve were from, but it kind of felt like it in a way, and you instantly felt closer to Bucky, although Steve had to stop you from going to find Bucky, who was coincidentally only a few kilometres away at that point in time.

you fought with Steve and the rest of the Avengers against Thanos, and almost fainted from happiness when you saw your Bucky walk through the portal and run into your arms. you, once again, fought with the Avengers and Bucky to defeat Thanos once and for all.

then, Tony snapped his fingers, and your whole world changed. you didn't know it at that particular moment, but it did.

you attended Tony's funeral, and you and Bucky went home. a few days later, Bucky and Sam went to see Steve off to return the stones. you had no idea why, according to Bruce it would take about 5 seconds, but Bucky insisted that he needed to go, and said that he was sorry he couldn't join you on an afternoon walk, your first one with him in over seven years.

but, then he showed up at the door, tears streaming from his steel blue eyes, his cheeks puffy, and the smallest of sobs escaping from his rosy lips, and you knew something went wrong.

you pulled him into your apartment, and wrapped your arms around him. he nuzzled his face into your neck, and sobbed freely.

“what happened?” you asked. “did something happen to Steve?” at the mention of his best friend, Bucky sobbed harder, and your question was answered, albeit silently.

you pulled him into the bedroom, and stripped him from his clothes. you’d never dealt with a sobbing and heartbroken Bucky in person before, so you just went with what felt right.

you instructed him softly to go lay on the bed, and he nodded. you laid down on your side, and pulled him to lay on your chest. as your hands ran through his hair that was starting to curl slightly, you tried again.

“can you tell me what happened, honey?”

Bucky sniffled a few times and sat up. you did the same, and he fiddled with his metal fingers while he talked.

“y’know yesterday when Steve and I went out for lunch?” he asked, and you nodded. “well, he told me about your journey back to the 1970′s with him.”

you furrowed your brow in confusion, but nodded. “I-i guess he was dodging some workers or something because he hid in an office, an office that happened to belong to Peggy Carter. he said that he saw her through the glass, and that he realized that he could have the life with her that he’d always wanted, the Pym Particles safe in his pocket. he knew that he had to come back and bring everyone back, but then he was going to go back.” you didn't know what to think. that wasn't the Steve that you knew, the Steve that you had become family with over those horrible and painful five years.

“when he told me, I didn't really think he was going to do it.” Bucky said, his voice shaking. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he rested his head against your chest.

“even when I watched him disappear on the tunnel platform I didn't believe it. then, he showed up again.” he said, almost whispering.

“he was old. like grey hair, wrinkles, all of it.” he managed to get out in between sobs that were growing louder. “t-thats when it hit me. that he left me, for he-” he tried to say, before his sobs started full force again, and you pulled him to lay on you. he had his head on your chest, and his body in between your legs.

his cries continued, and you knew there was no stopping them. he was heartbroken, and he had to work through his feelings, not ignore them.

he swallowed, and continued to explain. “he left me for the girl he kissed once. which is great, he deserves to be happy, but I need him. I'm finally completely free, and I don't have my childhood best friend anymore.” he sobbed out, and you started to rock your body slowly to soothe him.

you wanted to cry too. cry about the friend that you’d never get to see again, but you couldn't, not yet. Bucky was hurting way more than you were, and you could push your pain down until Bucky was okay. you cuddled him closer to you, and spoke into his hair.

“its okay, baby boy.” you said, and he nuzzled deeper into you, the stress and sadness melting away from his body. it would return later, but it was gone for the time being. he sighed in contentedness, and his tears slowly stopped. you kissed his forehead, and felt him smile.

you ran your hands through his locks for the millionth time, and hummed a slow tune to him to soothe him further. you felt his breathing even out, ad light snores escape his mouth, and you smiled.

at least for a while, he was at peace, a peace he hadn't had in a while.

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #fatws bucky #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fluff #sub!bucky

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