#like i want to be alone when i wake up and have some time for myself

[fawnindawn]

the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)

Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff

masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!

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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."

"I told you, I don't know anything, and even if I did, patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.

Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.

Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.

Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.

It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had somehow been brought into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence in your cabin.

Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.

"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."

Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they ended up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from it's bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.

Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?

You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.

The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.

"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.

He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.

"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."

With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.

"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.

You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.

You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.

"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.

After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."

You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.

You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.

"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"

You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.

Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"

He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.

You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.

His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how it your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.

"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."

Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.

Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.

You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"

He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."

He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."

You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"

You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.

"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"

"I do not."

"Do too."

"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."

"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"

"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.

"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."

"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."

"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."

"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."

Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.

"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."

Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.

"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar of my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.

You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."

"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."

He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.

You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.

"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."

"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."

Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?

Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.

"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.

"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”

He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.

"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."

He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."

You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."

He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"

"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."

"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."

"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"

"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.

"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."

"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."

You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"

He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"What are you smiling about?"

You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.

"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."

"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."

He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."

You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.

"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."

He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."

You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.

a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.

taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x apollo!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x y/n

[magics-neptunes-things]

Ready, Aim, Shoot (3)

Hi guys!

This is a little longer that what I was thinking, but it's the last part of the Ready, Aim, Shoot 's serie. Thanks to @holly-wallis for her ideas and advice ♥

Please enjoy ♥

I had to repost it, sorry if you already saw it ♥

TW : Blood, trauma, scare, creepy therapist.

PART 1 | PART 2

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Blood. There is blood everywhere. The more you look, the more there is. You look at your shaking hands, cover in red too. You don’t know whose blood is it though. The room you are in is only white, adding to the contrast with the blood color. Breathing quickly, you look around and that’s when you finally see her.

Alexia.

Alexia is on her back in the middle of the room, her body surrounded by red too. Panicking, you kneel next to her, shaking her to try to wake her. But she doesn’t. She stays still in your hand, not moving. Not breathing. This is when you scream.

You scream so much that it wakes you up suddenly. Heavily breathing, you sit on your bed, blindly trying to find the button on your bedside lamp. You finally managed to find it, but when you put the light on, Alexia isn’t next to you in your bed.

It’s only when you left your room to look for her that you remember. She’s not here tonight, she’s sleeping in Tenerife, where she played today. Or yesterday, because it’s actually three in the morning. It’s the first time she leaves you alone for all the night since you came back.

Alexia is not here, but it’s your fault really. You assured her that you will be ok, almost pushing her out of your shared flat. She made you swear to call her if you need her, no matter what time it is. She asked Mapi to come to look for you last night, so you watched the game with the blonde before she went home. You fell asleep quickly actually, you were far to imagine a wake up like that.

You should really call her; she will be disappointed with you if she learns the state of panic you are in without calling her. But you hate the idea to wake her up at this time of the night. She played yesterday, she’s coming home today. She needs to rest.

You find refuge on your couch, putting the TV on. But you can’t forget the picture of Alexia and the blood everywhere. You feel like it’s still on your body, no matter how many times you look at your hands to be sure that you don’t have a little red on you. Thirty minutes after you wake up, you decided to go take a shower.

You pass a long time under it, water burning, washing your body again and again. You ignore the scare that your accident left on your body. You hate them. No matter how many times Alexia kissed them, telling you that you are strong and even more beautiful than before.

You feel guilty as hell when you think about your girlfriend. She is amazing with you, so patient and so loving. You don’t feel like you deserve her. You don’t make any progress with your mental health and it’s disturbing. You even think about breaking up with Alexia one time, disgusting by yourself. She deserves so much more than you. But right after, you had a panic attack, because how can you live without her? She’s your whole world.

You are not even strong enough to make the things right for her.

When the feeling of the hot water and the strength with which you rubbed your skin became too much to handle, you stop the water and get out of the shower. This time your skin is red, but you know why.

You pick a hoodie from Alexia and one of her old Barcelona’s short. If you can’t have your girlfriend’s arms, at least you can have her smell. And, after some hesitation, you even take her pillow to go with you to the couch of your living room. You take snack and watch some stupid things on TV while scrolling on your phone.

You are still tired, but you don’t want to take the risk to fall asleep again. You’re terrified to have this dream again. Every time the images came back in your brain, you try to hug Alexia’s pillow harder. It kind of work, but it has nothing to do with Alexia’s comfort.

You fall asleep after 8 o’clock, after your girlfriend told you that they are boarding and that she will be home soon.

You are still asleep when Alexia comes home. She smiles seeing you laying on the couch, cuddle against her pillow, in her clothes. You are watching YouTube now, from her account, and you choose the playlist where she puts all the games she finds interesting. Only putting her suitcase on the ground, she comes to sit next to you, softly stroking your hair.

“Alexia?” you mumble, opening your eyes with difficulty.

“Hi sleepy head”

Her smile is affectionate, and you get up on one elbow to rub your eyes and have a better look at her. Her hairs are down and she seems fine. She seems happy, maybe to see you? The plan was that she takes a taxi with Jana to come back home, Alexia didn’t want you to drive because some noises sometimes make you jump.

“How are you?” Alexia asks softly.

“Can I have a hug?”

She smiles and passes her arms around you to hug you. But you lay on the couch again, taking her with you on it. She giggles and you smile, forgetting for the first time your nightmare.

“I’m glad you’re here” you whisper after some minutes.

“I’m glad to be back to you too.”

You hum, turning a little to pass a leg around her knees and cuddle tighter against her. She’s stroking your back lovingly, sometimes kissing your head. You started to wonder how much mental pressure you are putting on her when she talks again.

“You remember Marta? From the media team?”

“I think I do” you answer, frowning. “Why?”

“She just left for her maternity leave, and she doesn’t know for now if she will come back.”

“Ok?”

You are still frowning when you look at your girlfriend, not understanding where she wants to go. I mean you are happy that people have baby and all. But what does it make a change for you?

It looks like Alexia’s idea was that you apply for the job. You try to escape that idea, not really happy about the idea of meeting tons of people who will know about your story and look at you with pity in their eyes. But Alexia assures you that it won’t happen, adding that you just can go for the interview without saying yes after.

Long story short, you are now sitting on your desk for your first day.

Your job is basically to find idea of activities to anime the games, a little more marketing than journalism to be honest. But it looks fun and like Alexia said before, when Marta will come back, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.

********

“Hi, I’d like a meeting with the new media manager?”

A voice in front of you make you raise your head, even if you recognize it immediately. Alexia is smirking at you from the door of your office, looking like she just finishes her shower. Which she probably did, given the time.

“I’m sorry, but you have to talk to my assistant first, she will give you my time schedule” you smirk back.

Alexia frown slightly, closing the door behind her before coming for you.

“You have an assistant?”

You know that frown and you roll your eyes while standing up to great her like she deserves it.

“Yes, I have” you answer, letting yourself go against her when she takes you in her arms.

She hums, her lips against your hair, trying to look discreetly in the open office by the window. The gesture makes you chuckle and you raise your head to have a better look at her.

“What? I was just looking to know if you knew her, that’s all.”

“Sure, mi Amor.”

She pouts and you kiss it better, just to see the smile she has right after. You weren’t really happy to start to work again to be honest, but you have to admit that it’s a good thing for you to keep your head busy with something. Alexia was right, once again.

“Are you ready to leave? I’m taking you home.”

“I am.”

You take your stuff with you, before letting Alexia passes her arm around your waist to take you with her. You don’t know if it’s only the jealousy talking right now, but you have to admit that she is way more openly affective with you since your accident. Not that you have a problem with it, obviously. But the way her gaze is scanning the room when you left after saying goodbye to your colleagues, it makes you think that there is at least a little part of jealousy in it.

Which is totally stupid, you only see her.

“You seems happier” Alexia says cautiously over her plate that night.

You look at her for some seconds before nodding. You are, but you are scared to mention it in case that it makes your nightmares coming back.

“I am. Thanks to you” you smile softly.

“Are you really? Or are you hiding something from me like when I was away for the game to Tenerife?”

You blush and almost chock on your tomato, but you somehow are able to keep some dignity. You don’t take the time to try to deny her statement though, you know that she knows. Of course she does. She reads you like an open book. Alexia has the decency to not point anything else, waiting patiently for your answer.

“I really am better. You were right, I really needed to get out from here even if it was difficult at first. It’s great to have something to do, not that cooking for you wasn’t entertaining. But going out… It’s great.”

She nods softly, without leaving your face with her eyes. You know immediately that there is something else in her mind, but you don’t push, letting her carry the conversation.

“Do you think I was too suffocating with you? Maybe if I…”

“No!” you cut her after some seconds of incredulity. “Alexia how could you…? Are you joking? You are the reason that I’m still here and mentally good. You are the reason that I keep fighting to be fine again. I couldn’t have done it without you. I forbid you to think of anything like that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s some insecurities and I shouldn’t have told you that” she frowns again, playing with her forks and some pasta left in her plate.

“Alexia, don’t please.”

She looks at you again when you stand up, just to come sit on her lap. She welcomes you by taking you close against her with her arms. You pass your arms around your neck, one of your fingers playing with the baby hair on her neck.

“You are so perfect to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to thank you enough one day for it. You were always right and done nothing wrong all those days. A lot of people would have abandoned, but you are still here with me.”

“I’ll never abandon you” she mumbles, looking right into your eyes.

You can see how much she means those worlds and you have to take all your strength not to start crying like a baby. You’re pretty sure that your eyes are shining from tears but you busy yourself by stroking her cheek tenderly.

“You said one time that my come back is a miracle, do you remember? Well, you are my miracle.” you add, after she nods.

She kisses you and the way she did makes your head turned. She only let you breath for several seconds when you need air, before kissing you again with even more intensity. You had sex again after some weeks of rehab from your part, but not like you did before your departure. And it’s hard to see Alexia restrain her gestures, scared as hell to hurt you. Tonight though, you feel like that maybe it will come back.

********

It came back.

You are laying on your bed, lovingly enveloped in your girlfriend’s arms. Her skin is so soft against yours, your face hiding in her neck. You are lull by Alexia’s deep and slow breathing and you are starting to wonder if she’s falling asleep when she talks quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. Safe. Warm.”

“Perfect” Alexia sighs softly, moving a little to be more comfortable on the mattress.

You look up at her, admiring the shape of her jaw, her perfect nose, her beautiful eyes, and her so kissable lips.

“What?” she asks when she sees you staring.

“Nothing” you giggle. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes before closing them, tightening you harder against her. You don’t need anything than her body to keep you warm and you love it.

“Would you be angry if I stopped working there?”

The sudden question makes her open her eyes again to look at you. She seems to be thinking for several seconds before answering.

“Of course not. Why do you want to stop anyway? Is someone nasty with you?”

“Not at all” you deny, already imagine her hunting the person who would do that to you. “I was thinking that… maybe I could finish one of my book projects?”

“You mean one of your thousand amazing scenario who are desperately waiting on your computer?”

“Exactly that” you answer, rolling your eyes.

She teased you way to much about it already.

“If it’s what you want, of course I’ll support you. But what about going out to meet people?”

You see the worried already and you answer, kissing her cheek.

“I’ll go write into a Café or something. Maybe seeing people, crowd and streets will help me to get idea.”

********

That’s exactly what you did, after finishing your job with the media. The first days, you weren’t really effective, more focused on what’s going on around you and which story you want to choose. After some debate with yourself and help asking to your mother and Alexia, you choose to mix two stories and start writing again. It made you start from the beginning, but it’s maybe better like this.

You still get to your psychiatrist to your session twice a week, always a little more scared to go without Alexia. Your psychiatrist told both of you that it could be good for you to come without your girlfriend. Alexia accepted immediately, always being interested in everything that can make you feel better. So on Mondays would go without Alexia and on Fridays you go with her.

You always have a strange feeling without Alexia’s halo, and it’s only happened when you come here. You don’t have trouble to go grocery shopping without Alexia or go to the Café to write.

It’s particularly hard to come today, you talked to Alexia by the phone before your appointment to ease your stress. She seems to realize that something is wrong, because she talks a lot about her day. She only does that to change your mind, and you love her for that.

“Good Morning, Y/N.” your therapist greats you.

You great her back and start talking about your new occupation, your activities since the last time and the travel Alexia proposed to you last night. It was something you can’t stop to think about since she mentioned it, eager to go away for some days in the sun with the woman you love.

“Don’t you think it will be too soon?” the doctor asks sceptically, only looking at her notepad.

You are taken aback. You would never have thought that she can be thinking that it’s a bad idea. She never stops to tell you to go ahead and try new things since the beginning.

“Taking a plane, going to an airport, in a place that might remind you of your trauma? What would you do if you have one of your panic attacks there?”

You don’t know what to answer to that. Alexia mentioned Canary Islands and a private hotel with a private beach, which seems far away from the Middle East.

“No, I mean… I’m going better now. And I’ll be with Ale. Everything will be ok.”

She looks at you this time, raising an eyebrow. Her look is sharp, almost mean and you have trouble swallow your saliva. You feel like a schoolgirl getting bullied by her teacher.

“Don’t you think you already lean too much on the poor girl? Maybe she suggests the holidays to have some rest, are you sure she wants you to go with her?”

You don’t really remember the end of the appointment, but it keeps getting worse. And you don’t know how you managed to find yourself in the Barcelona’s facilities either after it. You can’t think straight anymore, it’s like this woman knew all your insecurities and tell you that you are right to have them. One after the other.

What if she’s right? What if Alexia can’t stand your presence, your toxics dreams and mental health? You already knew that you weren’t good enough for her and that she deserved better. You can’t believe that you let her makes you believe that she can love you. How can she? How can anyone?

You were turning around to go home when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N?”

You recognize Mariona through your tears, but you can’t say anything. She doesn’t seem to mind though, carefully taking your arm in her hand.

“What are you doing here? Are you looking for Alexia?”

You try to scream at her to let Alexia alone and not to get you to her, but you can’t. When you don’t say a word, Mariona decides to take you to Alexia. Luckily the Majorcan woman came late today and she knows exactly where to find your girlfriend.

You let Mariona drags you around, hearing her soothing voice without being able to understand what she’s saying. Sweets, encouraging words, for sur. You can’t figure out really what happens next, but after several minutes of walk, you hear Mariona calling your girlfriend’s name. And more seconds after, you are surrounded by her arms, her perfume, everything that is her.

Everything that you don’t deserve.

When Alexia realizes that she’s facing a wall and that you won’t say a word, she takes you home. You are like anesthetized at this point, letting her do what she wants with you. It’s only when you are laying on the bed you retake some reality and stare at Alexia who seems to be choosing clothes to put on you after taking a shower.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

The words were lifeless, but you see Alexia froze. She turns in your direction, with eyes wide and the most chocked face ever.

“What?”

“I’m breaking up with you” you repeat, looking at her straight in her eyes.

A silence pass and you see Alexia watching at you, probably waiting for you to say something else. Maybe to explain yourself, but you don’t say another word. Plus, the reasons are obvious, no?

“Are you- don’t you love me anymore?”

She seems broken. That doesn’t make any sense, she is supposed to be relieved, not sad. You don’t understand her reaction, so you shrug before answering.

“That’s not the point, Alexia. You are free. I’m giving you your liberty back.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk? Did someone give you something to you?”

She seems angry now, almost shouting with her eyebrows frown. You frown too, because why the hell won’t she understand? You sit in the bed while she’s still standing in front of you.

“No! I just… Why won’t you…”

Why is your brain suddenly transformed in pudding?

You look at Alexia when she comes to you and takes your face between her hands. She does it with so much care that you want to cry again.

“Why don’t you let me break up with you?” you whisper.

“Because I love you. I told you; I’ll fight for us every day if I have to.”

There we are, you are crying again. But this time Alexia is here, she can take you against her, rock you will you cry and whispers sweets nothing in your ears. She waits for your sobbing to stop, holding you tightly. Only when you can breathe normally again, she speaks.

“What happened?” she asks softly.

You don’t know really where to start, so you just shake your head without answering anything. But she waits, again and again. So, after some minutes, you talk too.

“I just want you to be happy. I know you’ll be happier without me.”

“You are wrong.”

Her voice is gentle, but as the same time strong enough to let you know that you don’t have to try to deny it. It’s her truth and that’s enough.

“Well you need to take some time apart from me so it’s not –“

“Where the hell does that idea comes from?”

She’s lost. You were good when you end up your call some hours later. Stressed but good. And then you appeared crying during her training, only to say her when you come home that you want to break up with her. But you frown again, lost too. And tired, to be honest.

“My therapist said that I’m leaning on you too much. And that’s way you wanted to go on holidays without me.”

You explain that like it’s the more logical thing in the world, but for Alexia it doesn’t make any sense. She starts to understand where it comes from however, even if she doesn’t understand why.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, what the point to have holidays if you’re not with me?” she answers, looking right into your eyes. “Did your therapist say other things?”

You nod and start to explain everything happened and everything she told you. The more you talk, the more Alexia seems to be furious. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes are literally throwing lightning and she so tense that you are really concerned that she can have a cramp somewhere. But when she talks to you again, her voice is infinitively soft.

“Nothing of that is true. I love you. I will do everything to help you to make you feel better. I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You look at her, almost desperately. But she has the same gaze that she has when says things like this. Her eyes are soft, caring and so loving that you can’t do otherwise than believe her.

“I don’t feel like I’m better, Ale” you whisper. “I don’t think I will be one day.”

“You are. You are working, you are getting out, you are smiling again. It’s ok to have bad days, like everyone else. Yours are a little more complicated because you had to go through horrible things. But you have the right to not feel good or needing help a little more some days. And what she said was wrong.”

You are lost, honestly. Alexia can see that you are coming back at yourself again though. Like if you are waking up. You seem always a little desperate and she takes you carefully against her. You let her, sighing of relief when you find the comfort of her arms.

“What if she’s right and you haven’t realized for now?”

“She’s wrong. And she will know it.”

You don’t question what she was implying, too tired to realize what her words may imply. You let Alexia taking you in a bath and more generally taking care of you. You look at her through the mirror when she does your hair.

“When I get better, it will be me who will take care of you” you inform her.

She smiles and finish to undo a knot in your hair before answering, looking at you through the mirror too.

“Okay Cariño.”

She’s smiling but doesn’t seem to make fun of you. You relax, letting your shoulder go down a little bit. That’s mean that she really believes that you will be better.

********

Alexia keeps her promise, going to your therapist’s office in the early hours to talk to her. You don’t know what she told her, but now you don’t have to go to your appointments, and you even have a new psychiatrist, advised by someone from Alexia’s staff.

Rumour has it that Alexia’s shouts still resonate in the psychiatrist’s office.

You don’t know if it’s your breakdown of the change of therapist, but some days after this episode, you feel better than ever. You wake up with your head and your body feeling lighter and Alexia is surprised to see you coming in the kitchen when she’s taking her breakfast. Usually, you stay way longer in bed.

“Is everything alright?” she asks nervously.

You nod, rubbing your eyes before coming behind her to pass your arms around her waist.

“Just wanted to be with you a little bit before you leave.”

Alexia hums when you kiss her neck. You can feel a gaze studying you while you are making yourself coffee, before coming to sit next to her.

“Are you sure that you’re ok Cari?” she asks, almost shyly while you stole a strawberry from her bowl.

“I’m sure baby” you smile at her.

Alexia is looking at you suspiciously during several seconds. She red things about people being “high” before getting down and of course she is scared. But you seem really good today and she can’t help but smile when you kiss her cheek.

“Uhu” she said, taping her lips with expectation.

You giggle but kiss her anyway, smiling against her lips. You are still smiling when she strokes your cheek with her fingertips and when she puts her forehead against yours.

“I love you so much” she whispers before kissing you again.

“I love you more” you smiles.

Alexia does no with her head and put a finger on your mouth when you want to talk again.

 “Would you like to come with me to training today?”

You hesitate for several seconds before answering. It’s been a while since you came to see Alexia in training. You can’t remember who you saw some days before, only Mariona. But you hope that they weren’t a lot.

“You can say no if you don’t want to.” Alexia adds after seeing you hesitate.

“No, I want to come. But… Who were here, the other day? You know…”

“Only Mariona. And I’m sure that she doesn’t say anything to anyone.”

You are relieved to learn that, even if you don’t know how Alexia can know.

“Did you treat her?” you smirk.

“No” Alexia laughs. “I know the girl, she’s one of the most loyal, sweet and discreet that I’ve ever met.”

She was right. Mariona didn’t told anyone about what happened and after several minutes you realize that Alexia was right once again. You hug the Majorcan woman a little longer than Alexia’s other teammates when you met them, silently thanking her. She seems to understand because she smiles at you before taping your cheek affectionately.

And today, as you watch Alexia training and laughing on the pitch with the teammates that she considered like her family, you’re starting to have hope again. Alexia was right every time, so maybe she will be right this time again. You will be better.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader

[scuderiahoney]

Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5

Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words

Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury

It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.

“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.

Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”

“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”

George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.

Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”

“Not really?” He says, shrugging.

Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”

Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.

Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”

You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”

Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“

“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”

…..

The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.

Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.

You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”

Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.

An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.

After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.

“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.

He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.

…..

The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.

By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.

When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.

“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.

“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.

“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.

Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”

Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”

You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.

…..

Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.

“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”

Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. “You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”

“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”

Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.

“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”

Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.

He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”

You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.

“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”

Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.

Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.

You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.

You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.

The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”

You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”

Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”

You nod. “I’ll stay here!”

“Me too,” Oscar adds.

“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”

Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.

A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.

“This is really nice,” he says, softly.

The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”

Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”

He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.

“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.

There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.

…..

Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.

You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.

You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.

Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”

You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.

Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.

“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.

You nod. “Me too.”

His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-

Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?

“I…” he starts, then stops.

You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.

If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.

He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.

…..

The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.

He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.

Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.

There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.

One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.

When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.

He just eyes you carefully,

“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”

You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.

You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.

It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.

When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.

You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”

His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.

“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”

You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”

You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.

Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.

One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.

“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”

You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”

“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you murmur back.

Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.

…..

Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.

The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.

The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.

“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”

His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”

You shrug and wink. “Close second.”

He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.

“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.

You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”

He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”

You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”

He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”

And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.

You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.

“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.

Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”

“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.

When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.

You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.

When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.

“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.

“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up your other side. “We’ll be back.”

He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.

“Promise?” You ask, quietly.

He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”

So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.

The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.

bunnyrabb1t

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen33, and 53 others

bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever

landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(

oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb

landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream

lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!

bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘

alex_albon hey. back off 🤺

oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️

bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️

charles_leclerc 🤨

carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you

notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11

(crossed out means i was unable to tag!)

#oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fic #Oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfiction #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #hockey au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic series #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one fanfic #formula one fic #honeywrites #fic: in motion

[heartfullofleeches]

@ranshin03

"Fletcher! I've been trying to reach you all morning, dear. Could you do me a favor and-"

"Gate's closed, ain't it?"

"Er.....Yes?"

"Is there a fire?"

"N-no?...."

"Somebody dying?"

"...n"

"Then you don't need me. Have a good day now."

-

If Fletcher wants his alone time with his spouse then that's just what he'll get. He does everything for the town- the least they can so is give him twenty-four hours of peace with the love of his life less they want him to work himself to dead like he nearly did before they came around. Folks around town are so used to Fetch ignoring their words of advice when they beg him to rest for once, they can't fathom how laid back he becomes after darling comes into the picture on days he wants to spend alone with them.

If the gates to his property is shut, Fletcher will not step foot off the farm unless someone is injured - or Darling wants to spend the day in town. Fetch likes to start the day slow with breakfast in bed. If Darling likes cooking he'll wake them up to help. The farmer would be well and happy just lazing the day away cuddled up with his sweetheart, but if they'd like to go out for once he'll surprise them with a picnic or something simple like picking fruits to share back at home.

Bothering Fletcher on his day off is like poking a sleeping bear. He'll appear them if they refuse to leave or Darling insists he sees what they want to get them out of the picture quicker. He'll be a tad nicer in the second scenario, but regardless that person is getting the cold shoulder for weeks. Dead silent soon as they walk by no matter how deep he was into conversation with another party. If they can't respect his time why should he respect them?

The only way they'll gain his forgiveness is if Darling forgives them for him.

-

Fletcher - arms folded over his chest: 's not fair. One day - that's all we asked for. Some people just don't know a thing about respect anymore.

Darling: I know it was pretty rude of them, but you'll forgive them, right? For me?

Fletcher: You can't keep pulling that card on me, Sweetheart....

[Nuzzles his nose to theirs]

Fletcher: You know it works everytime~ ♡

#Fletcher my oc #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere x reader #yandere #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere farmer #yandere hybrid

[literaila]

what was readers (atf) reaction to finding out tsumiki being cursed and put in coma? probably felt like she’s failed at protecting her children after years of balancing their lives and safety. hopefully sobbed in gojos arms 😭

“satoru,” you croak out.

your voice is nothing but a mere whisper. it’s a drop of water in the ocean, a footstep on the expanse of the world.

you’ve never felt so small. you’ve never felt like your actions mean nothing more. never more helpless, than this.

“hey,” satoru says, and you know that he can tell that there’s something wrong. “what’s going on?”

“can you come home?”

“yeah, yeah of course i can, baby. i’ll call ijichi to pick me back up. what’s happening?”

“satoru,” you say, again, because there’s almost nothing left.

“hey. hey. we’ll fix it, whatever it is. talk to me.”

“tsumiki’s in the hospital.”

your hands clench around the steering wheel. there might be an ethical discussion to be had about the danger of driving with tears in your eyes, talking on the phone.

but you could give less than a damn about safety, right now. right now—it just doesn’t matter.

there’s a pause.

you can hear satoru breathing.

“what?”

“megumi—“ you wipe your eyes, speeding up. the law can be damned too. “megumi said that she wouldn’t get out of bed this morning—that he couldn’t wake her up. and so he called me and then i—“ you stop, gasping for air that’s practically unreachable. “i told him to—“ but you break off again, because your throat is burning.

“what hospital?”

“i don’t—i can’t remember the name.”

“okay.”

“i’ll—i’ll send it to you. when i get there. im on my way now.”

“are you driving?”

“yeah.”

“okay, baby. send it to me when you can.”

your eyes well up once again. “did you finish your mission?”

“no. i’d just gotten here. it’s probably better that way, ijichi isn’t far. i’ll be there soon as i can, okay?”

“okay. i—i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

you can’t hold back a gasp, a sob, any iteration of failure that might fit. “satoru,” you say, wishing so badly that he was right there with you. “i should’ve stayed home. megumi shouldn’t have found her, he shouldn’t have—“

“you think this is you fault?”

“i just—i shouldn’t have left them alone. what if—“

“no.” satoru is almost whining, but not quite. “megumi isn’t six anymore, sweetheart. he’s fourteen. he’s alone all of the time. how were you supposed to know—“

“i’m their mom. i’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this.”

“you can’t control when something bad happens.”

“i can’t—she’s—“

“we’re going to figure it out. tsumiki’s strong—she’s probably the strongest of all of us. she’ll be fine.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.”

“why’d this have to happen to her? to our little—“ you stop, feeling that digging in the pit of your soul. that tiny little chant—failure, failure, failure.

“i don’t know,” satoru whispers. “i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

“i don’t know,” he whispers again.

“is ijichi there yet?”

“almost.”

“okay.”

“hey,” he says, again, in some kind of secret language. “it’s going to be fine.”

“okay.”

“are you still driving, baby?”

“i’m almost there. one, two minutes.”

“want me to stay on the phone?”

“yes.”

“okay. i’m right here. i’m almost there,” and he says it over and over.

hoping that maybe it’ll come true.

though, you’re not quite sure that satoru will ever get there fast enough.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #a typical family #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru x you

[cameronspecial]

Let Me See You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Talking about joining the Mile High Club

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Y/N has never been to first class and the privacy the seats offer is something new to her, but it is nothing new to Rafe and the only person he wants to see is his angel.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Instead of taking his private jet home from Spring break, Rafe opts to give Y/N her first first-class experience. Rafe normally doesn’t get to the airport at the recommended three hours before his flight; however, with Y/N’s need for planning, he does not object to waiting in the first-class lounge for four hours if it eases her anxiety. The early time means her head rests against his shoulders, her eyes fluttered shut in need of some rest. The reclining chair of the lounge makes it comfortable for both of them to rest. Rafe can’t sleep though. His focus is on making sure they catch their flight and when the clock on the wall warns him it is thirty minutes until their plane is meant to leave, he wakes his angel up and leads her to their gate. He grins at the sleepy gaze over her eyes because of how adorable she looks. “I can’t wait to be home. I miss your bed,” she informs, snuggling into his side as they take a step forward in the line. His heart flutters at her referral that his bed is her home, “Me too. I love getting alone time with you, but I miss us being in the personal space of our room.” His lips press against her temple and he hands the flight attendant their boarding pass. 

They get onto the plane and he puts their bags in the overhead bins. Y/N’s eyes widen as she sees the miniature space that is dedicated just for her. It may be small, but it gives the promise of a personal space that isn’t typical for a plane ride. As she and Rafe both sit down, the divider between their seats blocks her view of him. It isn’t the end of the world that she won’t be able to see him throughout the flight even though she would’ve liked to. Her desires are answered by a tiny mechanical sound and the lowering of the thin wall. He enjoys the amazement that crosses her eyes. “Woah,” she states, finding the switch he used to do this. She is excited when she presses it and it goes back up. Rafe reverses her action. However, like a child who recently discovered how a car window works, she raises the partition again. 

This back and forward goes on for a while and ends when Rafe lets out a frustrated sigh. “Let me see you, Angel,” he pleads, done with the game she is playing. She giggles at the tone of his voice, hearing the pout in his tone. She gives in to his need and presses the button one final time. Her stomach flips at the massive grin that crosses his face when he sees her. The adoration behind his stare always reminds her how lucky she is to have found a man completely dedicated to her. “Being able to see you is always the best part of my day,” he informs, reaching out to take her hand. She squeezes his hand, “It’s my favourite part too.” Another switch reminds him why he picked this particular flight in the first place. “Wait, there is one more thing I want to show you.” He pushes the button and the half wall that was keeping them apart has now disappeared into the floor. Her mouth drops to the floor. He smiles, “The chairs can be put together and laid flat so it can be one big bed.” She giggles at the waggle of his eyebrows and gives him a little shove. “We may have doors but there is no roof, so you are out of luck,” she points out. He shrugs and kisses her cheek, “I guess we’ll have to join the mile-high club the next time we take my jet.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

#let me angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron series #outerbanks rafe #rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #outerbanks #outer banks fic #outer banks rafe #obx #obx x reader #obx fanfic #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for debating hiring outside help for my husband and I's house because we can't keep up alone?

For context: My (26 Fae ftm) husband (28M) live very happy and healthily together. While I'm unable to medically transition due to a bunch of reasons we'll get to, he has been nothing but a solid rock in my life and the one person that has always been on my side. Through dragging me out of an abusive household to helping me with my chronic illness, he's been an absolute angel despite dressing like the devil himself (he's goth). So I don't want any hate on him.

He is ADHD and I'm Autistic. Yes, hello, we are that couple~♡ This does cause us some issues tho as he is unmedicated and I'm just struggling in general with sensory issues for certain chores. So far we keep each other some what afloat, having him do chores that my sensory issues can't handle and my doing ones he can't focus through.

However, as previously mentioned I'm chronically ill. I won't get into many details but it's basically I'm internally bleeding at random intervals. And before people think I'm talking about just my period, no it's so bad that I have once had to go to the ER for a blood transfusion due to this internal bleeding and had times when I was bleeding for over 4 months straight.

My husband and I because of this condition are pretty much struggling financially. I can work but it makes me extremely fatigued since I'm essentially working with constant Anemia. It gets bad enough some days that he can't wake me up without over an hour of effort, even after I've slept 10hrs. The fatigue is REALLY bad. He works just as much as I do, sometimes more because his work is so shortstaffed and he likes to pick up extra shifts to try and save up for the surgery that would hopefully fix everything.

This has culminated though in us both being extremely exhausted near 24/7 for the last year-ish but we have finally hit a break. I recently got a huge pay increase (nearly $200 a week increase) so we are hopeful for the first time in months. We're starting to pay down my extreme medical debt and being able to just go get dinner when he doesn't want to cook.

Here's where I may be kind of TA... Despite this hope, my condition recently did get worse. I've now gone another 3 months still bleeding and having to suffer my Anemia symptoms and medication. This has caused me to fall massively behind on what should be my chores, and while my husband doesn't begrudge me it, it has caused our home to start becoming very, very unhygienic. As someone who grew up with a clean freak mother, it kinda upsets me. He's focusing more and more on me and less on the house so even his chores are falling behind too.

None of that is his fault. He loves me so much he wants to help Me first but it has gotten to where we are both going "we really need to clean the house..." but neither of us have enough battery to do so. Me becuz of my condition and he becuz he's stuck caring for me.

We have enough that we might be able to afford to hire a cleaning service to help us out, but it would cost us some of the freedom and paying down medical bills. I think it'd only be a temporary thing, once I recover from my current episode, we can probably get better... but I don't know how long it will be.

On top of this I'm worried paying for this service will further put off my surgery as we struggle to save up for it again... We've already had to tap into that savings cuz my current episode lost me 2 days at work.

Is it unfair for me to ask to use our new extra money for essentially my not wanting to have to bother doing basic chores? I know I'm tired but I've lived with it so long I could and should probably just push through.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 11: Illusions /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: They part on their journey to Koschei’s lair.

Word Count: 2,3K

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of fighting and blood.

Notes: I love this chapter so so much hehehehehe

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

She woke up to a familiar smell, her face pressed against a soft, warm chest. Her eyes slowly blinked, and she looked up, seeing the most beautiful sight ever. Azriel rested peacefully, sun casting a glow to his brown skin, his hair softly falling on his forehead.

His lips formed a cute pout and he snored a bit. He looked so serene and pretty like this. She kept watching him, her finger tracing the contour of his jaw, watching as his long eyelashes fluttered open.

“Good morning.” He said, his voice raspy from sleeping. He caressed her cheek.

“Good morning.” She replied, yawning as she got up. “We have to prepare, we will travel tonight.” She announced, going to her bathroom and closing the door.

Azriel sighed happily, waking up with her was something he dreamed rather frequently, and he hoped their relationship improved to the point that they would do this forever, he wanted to wake up to that beautiful face, trace her scar and make love to her before going out to training, he wanted to be able to bring her breakfast in bed and always see that beautiful smile across her face.

He got up, opening the door and poking his head out, looking at both sides before he sneaked out, just to bump in none other than Elain. He scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed as she looked at him up and down. He opened his mouth to say anything but he was interrupted by Lucien coming out of her room as well. The three stood there, facing each other in silence.

It was Elain who started to laugh, her airy giggles filling the hallway, prompting the two males to laugh too.

“Now that’s embarrassing.” She said, and Lucien walked closer to her, his hand brushing hers.

“I have to say that the Mother indeed has a good sense of humour.” Azriel said, eyeing the couple. “But I’m glad things worked out for you two.” Lucien relaxed at that.

“Same Az, same.” She replied, before grabbing Lucien’s hand and walking towards the dining room. Azriel entered his chambers, locking the door behind him, laughing to himself.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Azriel, huh?” Lucien said, he watched as she tied her bags across the saddle of Meraxes, offering to take their clothes for them.

“What?” She yelled from up there.

“Saw him leaving your room this morning.” Lucien laughed.

“When you left Elain’s room?” She quipped, making the male blush.

“I took her home yesterday, she said she wanted to talk.” Lucien scratched his head. “We talked almost all night, she opened her heart and I opened mine, we’re ready to start again, courting each other the right way.”

Lucien held his bag above his head, throwing it to her open hands, she clutched it, tying against her own bag. Sliding down the wyvern’s leg, she wiped the sweat out of her forehead.

“We talked too, after last night I couldn’t stand being alone.” She said, patting Meraxes on the nose and walking with Lucien back to the house, Azriel’s bag already up there.

“I’m glad things are going great.” He pulled her closer by the shoulders and she rested her head against him with a smile. “We deserve it.”

“We definitely do.” She agreed, and the two parted ways. Nesta had called her for training later that day, since Gwyn had morning duties and couldn’t attend.

So she followed to the training ring she went to last time. Nesta and the females greeted her, and they started to train, with basic exercises to prepare their muscles first, then hand in hand combat.

Nesta paired up with her, they bowed to each other in respect before assuming their fighting positions. The two circled each other, studying their movements and looking for any breach so they could attack.

Y/N noticed the opening in her left flank and the smugness on Nesta’s face, and she knew it was on purpose, aiming there before she crouched, spinning and hitting Nesta’s legs with her own, sending the female stumbling down on her back. Nesta gasped as the air was knocked out of her lungs, jumping until she was back on her feet, lunging for the female.

Her fist hit the side of her ribs, making her groan and punch her hands away from her body. Nesta grabbed her by the neck, prompting Y/N to sneak her arms from under Nesta’s, forcing her to let go of her neck, she forced Nesta down, her stomach colliding against her raised knee.

A punch to Y/N’s face, making the skin go purple immediately. The two kept going at each other's throat, Y/N would never go easy on her because she respected Nesta as a warrior, and she was glad Nesta was doing the same to her, putting all of her efforts in trying to win the sparring match.

Twenty minutes later, blood and sweat mixed as the two kept landing blow after blow. She was getting tired, so she wrapped her legs around Nesta’s torso, pulling her down with her, locking her arm in a breaking grip. Nesta groaned trying to free herself but Y/N gripped her harder, not allowing her to.

“Tap out.” She ordered and Nesta huffed, tapping her leg three times, Y/N let her go, getting up and helping Nesta back to her feet. “It was a good match.”

“You’re very good, you should join us more often.” Nesta offered, smiling at the female and Y/N nodded.

“Let’s think about it.” She said, wiping the sweat off her forehead with a cloth Emerie offered her. She stayed with them, eating sandwiches and drinking cold tea by the sparring ring.

The females sat together, laughing and talking about training, some more shy than others, just nodding and not actually talking. Nesta noticed how Y/N looked at them, slowly sliding until she was sat by her back, Y/N turned her head, looking at Nesta with only one eye open.

“They come from the library, each female there has a tragic story and that is their safe space. I convinced them to train so they would never be vulnerable again.” She whispered and Y/N nodded, she had no idea.

“That’s really nice of you, giving them a second chance.” She smiled.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.” Nesta had a distant look on her face, and Y/N remembered the story Nesta had told her.

“I’m glad it’s you then, they have a lot to learn from you.” Nesta rested her head against her back, feeling happiness settle in her heart, the only one that had appreciated and supported her like this besides her Valkyries, was Cassian. It was a nice feeling having someone complimenting and being proud of her like this.

As the females left the ring to go back to their lives, Nesta guided Y/N back inside, pulling her towards her bathroom, where she forced her to sit on the sink counter while she cleaned her wounds, they looked worse than hers. She healed slower after all. Nesta cleaned the blue blood smeared across her face, and then pulled out a little bottle from inside the cabinet.

“For the swell of your eye.” She handed the potion, watching Y/N dump it in one strike. “I don’t want Azriel pestering me about it.”

“He wouldn’t.” Y/N reassured, feeling her eye starting to open little by little, soon only the purple marks would remain.

“He cares a lot about you, of course he would.” Nesta jokes, getting away from her and starting to clean her own face.

“You think so?” She shyly asked, getting out of the sink.

“Yeah, I do.” The female replied, and Y/N nodded.

“Thank you for the potion.” She said, hearing Nesta hum in agreement as she exited the bathroom and went towards her own room to have a shower.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

They sat there, having dinner. Y/N had spent the rest of her day reading the diary Morrigan had found, it talked about old gods and how they got to Prythian. They would travel all night and stay at the manor Lucien lived with his friends. Despite taking her bags for him, he would winnow first, to prepare the house for them, while Y/N took Azriel on Meraxes with her.

She kept quiet, still a bit uncomfortable with the pity stares the inner circle directed at her, especially Feyre. She tried to ignore but it was hard, so she just sat there in silence, eating her food and drinking her blood that Amren had provided for her again, in a way to comfort her for what she had seen yesterday.

“Are you ready to go?” Azriel asked as he noticed her empty plate.

“Just need to grab something.” She said, excusing herself and walking back to her room, to brush her teeth and get her sword. After she was done, she got back to the dining room, where everyone shared their goodbyes to them.

“Please come back to us.” Feyre begged as she hugged Y/N, the female swallowed the lump on her throat at the sight of the teary eyed high lady.

“I will.” She promised, parting their hug and going to another pair of arms, one by one, they hugged her like she was never going to be back. They enjoyed having her around and despite wanting to help her to go back, they didn’t really want her to be gone from their lives.

“Let’s go.” Azriel urged, pulling her by the hand towards the balcony Meraxes waited. It felt weird flying with something else that it wasn’t his own wings, but the distance he would take days to achieve, Meraxes could in hours.

So Azriel shut his mouth, hugging her waist as he sat behind her, a belt steadying him into place. Meraxes started to fly and it felt so different, the winds were stronger and he was faster.

“Do you remember the way?” She mocked, sensing the tense male behind her.

“Just go in a straight line and we’ll be fine.” He said above the sound of the wind.

“Hear that boy?” She asked Meraxes. “Let’s go then.” The winds intensified as the wyvern beat his wings faster, soaring over the city and towards the Band of Exiles home, where they would stay and watch Koschei closely.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We’re just a day away from the house.” Azriel said looking at the map, they had stopped in a hidden place around the Spring Court border. Since she refused to leave Meraxes behind, they could only travel at night to keep him hidden from curious eyes.

“Great.” She said finishing with the sheep she was feeding the wyvern. Azriel had flown to a nearby city to get two of them for Meraxes, Lucien had guaranteed he would have enough to feed him for as long as they needed to stay.

Meraxes loudly burped after he finished his meal, receiving an incredulous glare from Azriel and a scoff from his rider. “You’re so nasty.” She had said, just to be rudely pushed by his nose, making her lose balance and fall on her ass. Azriel started to laugh, receiving another scoff from her.

“Keep laughing and I’ll keep the tent just for myself.” She threatened and he lifted his hands in surrender.

“I won’t.” He promised, and she got up, her hands dirty as she groaned. “There’s a lake nearby if you want to clean yourself.” She started to roam around her things, pulling a pair of lighter clothes and a towel.

“Be right back.” She said, turning her back to him and swaying her hips away towards the lake.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She had left for at least 20 minutes, and Azriel was starting to get worried, he shared a look with Meraxes and the thing nodded, like he understood that he should keep guard while Azriel searched for her.

He walked towards the lake, finding her discarded clothes both dirty and clean by the shore. He couldn’t spot her on the lake either. So he followed the wet trail that led him towards the closed parts of the woods.

He found her there, drenched and coated in blood. Her sword hanging from her hand, and laying limply by her side, was Azriel. He looked at her and at himself laying there, with an open neck and blood pouring out of the wound.

“You appeared out of nowhere, saying that you had something you wanted to tell me.” She started, and Azriel looked at her again, swallowing as he took in her naked form? Blood coated her full breasts, her soft waist and the lower parts of her body like she had bathed in it. “When I got here you tried to fucking kill me.” She gritted her teeth, and Azriel slowly got closer to her.

“That was a Puca, they create illusions to try and lure people.” He grabbed her hand and she flinched. He slowly pulled her hand up, above his heart. “See? It’s beating, I’m real.” She looked at him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He kept looking at her eyes to avoid looking down.

She quietly followed him, going to the lake as Azriel discarded his own clothes, going after her to help her clean. He pulled her close by the waist, the water above her shoulders, not dark enough to hide her frame from his curious eyes.

“I thought it was you.” She said quietly.

“It’s okay, I’m here now.” He pulled her chin up, eyes drifting to her lips as a thought crossed his mind.

Puca’s assumed the form of what the person desired most to lull them and kill them after. His dead body replayed itself in his mind, meaning that the Puca knew this was the only way to convince her to go with him.

With that in mind, Azriel lowered his head, capturing her lips in a kiss.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2 @roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @zeroangelo13 @sekiro1310 @nelapeach14 @annamariereads16 @just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace @asterinblacksword @tsumudoll @georginat12 @skyjasper @anuttellaa @willowpains @quinzzelx @amysangel @fightmedraco @puttyly @lees-chaotic-brain @thisblogisaboutabook @esposadomd @stained-glass-eyes0708 @brujitafantomatico @a-cup-of-nightshade @faridathefairy @bubybubsters

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #worlds apart fic

[itsabouttimex2]

Dude Tang sanzang really sound like a gentle but also....ya know-

and maybe we could get a fic of him?I kinda curious actually-

Taken Aboard

Yandere Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong

(I’ve noticed recently that I enjoy writing yandere introduction fics- them meeting you. The content is a bit softer, but I enjoy establishing these things!)

You don't really want the shiny little key, no matter how important it looks. You just know that it's important. Made from polished silver and ending in many prongs, with a large gemstone set into the bulb... it was clearly valuable.

But you don't want it. Not the silver, not the jewel. You want what comes with taking it- a chase. And if these people didn't want to play your games, why would they come into your forest?

They’re only at the very entrance of the forest, where the trees are thinnest, but it’s still a foolish expedition that they’re surmounting.

There's easier ways to get through the area, after all. The forest is thick with trees and sharp vines, running with many rivers and populated by thousands of different animals. Clearly, these strangers are in no rush and have supplies to spare if they're traveling directly through instead of around.

So what's the harm in one little game?

You’ve learned all the creatures in this forest by heart- their scents and sounds and shapes, each palm-sized critter and earth-shaking beast impossibly dear to your heart.

Your hands; diminutive and deft, shift from tight skin to soft feathers. And as nail curves to talon, the bones of your fingers slide around your palm until they’ve diminished from five to four. In a sudden. startling flash of golden light does the rest of your form fall away.

As the aureate rays that wrap your body burn away from your reducing frame, the new truth of your body becomes clear- you’ve taken the form of a diminutive songbird. Were it not for your green-flecked wings, you would be entirely indistinguishable as a demon by the eye alone.

There’s just enough wind filtering through the dense forest to aid your feathers, sending your small form skyward.

You gather speed by twisting around clustered branches and thick tree trunks, breaking through a canopy of foliage and soaring to the warm sky.

Wings close to your body, you zip overhead the group and unfurl them in what would be a grand display, had you a more imposing form.

Tucking your wings tight, you dive haphazardly, snatching the key from a very startled monk all dressed up in a fancy cossack with a jangly golden stick.

Prying the metal free from his fingers, you retreat to the denser woods, taking a moment to perch as he calls out indignantly for you to return.

But you don’t even have time to gloat to yourself before a multicolored hawk comes at you, red and blue and ginger feathering.

Barely you manage to dodge, watching the bird soar past. The wind left in it’s blazing wake is so fast that your feathers are nearly torn out by their quills.

It rounds sharply, lurching at you again, only missing when you drop from the branch and dip towards the ground. The hawk turns and dives, losing you as you loop a low-hanging branch. It curves the bend with you, only inches away. Through the leaves, it misses by a hairsbreadth, mistaking a browning leaf for your insignificant form. Over the river your shadows startle the koi, causing them to retreat to the muddy depths. All across and through the forest are you hounded, slowly falling closer to the talons of the glorious hawk.

And you finally slip, diving too slow to avoid the clutch of avian claws.

But cold keratin is not what cages you.

Furry fingers tightly enfold your fragile form, stuck fast between the palms of the Monkey King.

He drops from the sky with some measure of grace, tail swaying in glee born of victory.

Exhausted from the chase, you concede defeat in the form of birdsong, melodically peeping and chirping to the simian from the cage his hands form.

Sun Wukong pauses at your display of surrender. It’s not often that a demonic enemy accepts being beaten. He carefully opens his hands to view you- and, to his disbelief, you hop onto the pointer finger of his right hand, holding the little key in your beak.

“You’re a funny little demon, aren’t you? So cute, but so darn troublesome… here, give me that.”

You don’t protest or fight as he snatches the jeweled key, stuffing the metal into his pocket.

“Wukong! Wukong, don’t hurt them!” Says a worried voice from just a few paces away, clearly out of breath from running. “Wukong do not make me recite the… sutra?”

His voice trails away at the sight of you, cupped in the simian’s ginger-furred hands.

“…they aren’t running, Master. They just… gave me the key after I caught them.”

The monk approaches slowly, then takes you into his gentle hands, a note of pity in his contemplative eyes. One soft finger brushes against the green spots that speckle your quills.

“Demon, I kindly ask you- reveal to me your name and form.”

With a giggling peep, you do as asked and immediately return to your true form- in his palms.

Tang Sanzang gasps from the sudden shift in weight, pulled to the ground before he can right himself. You giggle again, sprawled half on his lap and half on the dirt. And Sun Wukong laughs too, enjoying a moment of indignity from his oft-stoic master.

There’s a flash of irritation that fades the second the monk gets a good look at you- gods, you’re only a child. And so thoroughly ragged too. Mud and leaves in your never-cut hair, your fingernails chipped and uneven. Shredded clothing and no shoes.

“Have you been out here long, little one? In the forest, all on your lonesome?” Pity in his voice, compassion in his eyes. “When was the last time you had a meal? A drink? Come, quench yourself with my canteen,” he commands, lifting the fur-wrapped metal to your lips.

“They’re not a baby,” Wukong argues, tapping one clawed finger against your nose. “And don’t act like they’re harmless, Master.”

You pull away from the canteen after a long sip, sticking your tongue out at him. “No one asked you, Hóutóu!”

“Are you getting cheeky with Sun Yéyé? Maybe I should chase you all around your own home again, brat!”

Tang Sanzang sighs, not cutting into the squabble. Petty arguing was better than outright violence, and neither of you seemed all too serious about the verbal spat.

All he can really do is change the subject.

“I can hardly leave a little one all alone out here- even in the forest, it must grow cold at night. Come, you may rest in my tent when the sun falls. Then we shall find your parents, and-“

“Nope!”

“…excuse me? ‘N-no’, little one? You mustn’t joke with me like that-“

“I’m not joking,” you cheerily and confidently respond. “This whole forest is my home! And I don’t have parents, anyways! I was born from a fallen peach tree!”

That didn’t sound… too implausible, honestly. Strange things gave birth to demons, after all. Rocks, in Wukong’s own case.

But, even if you were a demon born of nature and the wilds…

Wouldn’t it be horribly cruel to leave a child out here, all alone?

You were small enough to still fit in his lap, small enough that you only came to Wukong’s hip even when you stood on your toes.

A child. Gods, how could you have survived on your own for so long? Demon or not, you were a child. Gods above, he couldn’t leave you here.

It couldn’t be that you’d leave easily. You had just declared that this forest was your home. And with the powers and skills you had, simple force wouldn’t be enough.

He… had some praying to do. To Guanyin, and to another blessed length of golden metal.

You would not be staying here a night longer.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Tang Sanzang #Yandere Sun Wukong #For Clarification #Hóutóu means ‘monkey head’ and is an insult in JTTW #And Sun Wukong often refers to himself as “’Grandpa Sun’ to mock his enemies #In form of ‘Sun Yéyé’ and ‘Son Wàigōng’ #Taken Aboard #Journeyfam

[wexhappyxfew]

no hard feelings

(a/n): dougie deserves all the love and carrie achterberg was the perfect opportunity to test it out. had some ideas for these two a while back and finally pieced together their dynamic later in the war. there’s plenty of time to talk about their earlier dynamic but for now….enjoy these two and a look into their history together :) enjoy! ....oh and if you're a Sunshine Soldier fan (my first BoB fic), from ages ago, there's a treat for you stuffed in here!

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Pleasure seeing you ladies here."

Carrie glanced up from her rather in-depth conversation with Paulina and Bessie and found James Douglass, leaned up against the chair in front of them, across the table, a wide smile on his face, as he glanced at their faces and then settled on Carrie.

James Douglass - to which she had annoyingly started calling him Dougie, like the others - was never one to entertain nor hold onto something far longer than needed. However, when it came to her and, particularly, teasing her, he held onto that like a rope tied around his finger. He never let go.

"To what do I have the displeasure of seeing you," Carrie said looking up at him with a wry grin, to which he raised a brow at, "c'mon, let me have it. What is it? You need shoeshine for those things you call boots. You need me to go and kiss-up because you said something you shouldn't have. No wait - I got it. You managed to wake up late and missed breakfast, and need me to smooze you into getting coffee." The tables around them grew slightly quiet, a few heads turning; Paulina stuck to staring between the two, a bunch of scrambled eggs in her mouth, Bessie taking the opportunity to loudly sip on her coffee that was growing cold. Dougie sent her a look with his eyes and then looked at Paulina swiftly.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw said something about a fuse in Silver Bullets blowing," he offered, before dropping his voice, "right near the radio." Paulina's fork dropped and she launched up out the chair and darted away, calling over her shoulder through the loud lunch room, half-chewing, half-attempting to speak.

"I'll be back!" she called, wiping at her mouth, "James Douglass I'll have your head for this if you're joking around with that no-good head of yours!" Carrie watched her disappear and then watched Dougie look at Bessie, who sat rather unfazed and slightly tuned out of the conversation. Carrie momentarily shut her eyes when she knew what was coming.

"Kidd's looking for ya. Said he had a few things to talk to you about, from the good Colonel himself." Dougie offered and she stared at him and raised a brow, before ceremoniously wiping her mouth and standing.

"I'll be back." she muttered, eyeing Dougie, before sending Carrie a look, to which she rolled her eyes. Which left Carrie with Dougie.

Good God.

She turned her eyes to look at him and then leaned against the table, lacing her fingers, offering a rather sarcastic smile instead of sweet.

Listen, she got along with James Douglass, the whole base did, but sometimes he sweet-talked her because he enjoyed it. And he knew how much he could get to her, even if it was just teasing. Bessie always teased Carrie back that it was because he was taking a liking to her.

Carrie Achterberg was absolutely not one to take to gossip like that and had promptly squashed that. He had joked with her like this since training - it was James Douglass for Chrissake - he did it because half the time, there was enough sadness on this base to fill up an ocean.

"What do you want?" she said, pointedly acknowledging how rather relaxed he was, and how drained she appeared.

"Does it always have to be something I want? What about you? What do you want?"

"For you to leave me alone, so I can enjoy breakfast. Without the fucking peanut gallery."

"That hurts me, Bergie."

"Don't call me that."

"What? A lil nickname never hurt anybody. Bessie calls you that." She raised a brow in his direction and he shook his head.

"Look, just, can you…I don't know, just do me a favor?" Carrie stared at him and raised her brow further.

"What?"

"Can you dance with me tonight? At the flying club?" Carrie stared at him, before shaking her head.

"No." Dougie sighed.

"C'mon, why not?" Carrie looked at him sharply and sent him a scowl.

"If I'm gonna dance with someone, they're going to want to actually dance with me. Not just do it because of some other girl." Carrie said quickly and inhaled more egg, "I know you've been eyeing up Charlotte Tarvers, so." Dougie blew a raspberry and waved her off.

"Nah, nah, she's….I think she's got some guy in the Airborne, I'm not....nah." Dougie said waving it off, "Really, it's just….you and I, ya know? And, look, listen, favors is a bad word anyway…." Carrie looked at him, her cheeks dotting red a bit and she shook her head.

"You're just doing it to try and get another girl to come and be all fluffy in your face. Newsflash, Dougie, I'm not taking part. Ask Margie or…or Judy! Judy would love to."

"If Benny DeMarco were here he would smash my face in for even dare touching Margie and I'd rather not become one with Captain Rosenthal's dark side so, respectively….I'll take my chances." Dougie said and then looked at her. Carrie grumbled under her breath and shook her head.

"Fine." she said, "But. You have to promise to make it worthwhile, alright? Give me a twirl, hold me agonizingly tight, but not too tight, 'kay? I might even do my hair."

"Do your hair? Oh, Bergie, that's an honor right there. I'm honored, truly."

"Buzz off, shithead. Not for you. For me." Carrie said and then bit into a piece of toast, "I don't know….maybe it'll get someone's attention." Dougie's face turned serious for a moment as Carrie enjoyed her toast and he seemed to recalibrate.

"Uh….what do ya mean?"

"I don't know…..some of the guys, you never notice how cute some of them are until you see 'em, ya know? In their Class A's, looking all put together….especially after some of those last few missions." she said, "Maybe they'll see us dancing and ask to butt in. We'll see." Dougie watched her, looking more confused by the minute, bringing a spark of laughter to Carrie's lips.

"But…..you and I, we're dancing. Together. And going. Together." Dougie said with a chuckle before shaking his head, "You can't……"

"Are you jealous, Dougie?" Carrie whispered quietly with a grin, smacking his shoulder, "You're cute when you're mad." Dougie watched her as she continued eating, frozen in place, without any sort of words.

"Don't give me that look, that's exactly how you sounded to me," she said, and raised a brow, "so….you promise, it's just gonna be you and I. No other extras, huh?"

"Promise." Dougie said quickly, "Shake on it." Carrie eyed him, but then met his grasp and shook on it, before going back to her toast and enjoying savoring the taste.

"Who's the jealous one now?" Dougie whispered quietly to her from across the table, sending the blonde a smirk and a wink, who offered nothing but a glare, "C'mon, just saying. Sounds like you want me all to yourself." Carrie looked at him and then placed down the toast and met his gaze.

"I'm doing this for no one but myself. Not you." she said. Dougie rolled his eyes and then leaned across the table and dropped his voice, lowly.

"No other extras, huh?" he whispered, "Afraid someone's gonna steal me away?" Carrie slowly looked to his face, her eyes unmistakably drifting across his face for a moment before looking back at his eyes.

"Who says I'm afraid? You're the one inviting me." she whispered back quietly, watching that stupid smirk grow on his lips - a challenge. She seemed to have caught Dougie in a crossfire as he chuckled to himself and then leaned back in his chair and laid an arm over the empty seat next to him.

"If anything, you should be afraid someone's gonna steal me away. I've met plenty of those gentlemen to know they'd take any chance they could." Carrie said, her cheeks flaming at the way he watched her, making her collar hot and her cheeks red, "Why didn't you just ask Paulina? Or Bessie?" Dougie sent her a look and crossed his arms.

"There's a reason I'm asking you and not them, sweetheart." he said and she felt her face dip darker in color, to which she picked up her toast and took an angry bite out of it, trying to ignore that look on his face, to which she was almost enjoying. Knowing he was getting under her skin, and she was liking it. She swallowed her toast and then looked at him, schooling her features evenly.

"Enlighten me. What are you trying to say?" Carrie said, staring at him with a cool expression. A bold question to pose, in her opinion. Like bait for a fish. He watched her and licked his lips, suddenly under the spotlight and met her gaze again, fully.

"I want to dance." Dougie said, a nod, like convincing himself this was right, "With you." Carrie's eyes moved to his quickly. He stared right back at her, holding her gaze tensely as she reached for her coffee cup.

There was something in his gaze that was different than before there. A longing, a want, an eagerness - something that made her stomach feel funny and her toes tingle.

Why, she wondered in her mind. There were a bunch of other wonderful ladies he could dance with that he would have a far better time both dancing and conversing with - people that were pleasant and friendly and happy. People that weren't like her. She looked to him again and watched as he leaned forward and shook his head.

"Listen, Bergie, I'm sorry," he said quickly, waving his hands in front of himself, "it was too forward, I get it. You got a lot of shit going on back home, you don't want-"

"No." Carrie said, stopping him mid-sentence, his eyes flashing to hers as she sat there, cheeks turning red again as she tried to stop it. She shook her head and balled up her fists and fixed her shoulders.

"It's not that." she managed out in a stammering pace, shaking her head. The two watched each other - him, waiting on her to open her mouth, and her, waiting for her mind to connect with her mouth to speak. But it didn't happen.

"What's going on, Bergie?" Dougie asked quietly, noticing as she looked at him, trying to gather what thoughts were left in her mind.

All she could think of was the casualty list - the way it grew, larger and larger. The amount of planes that had gone up and never come down. The amount of men they'd lost, the people that were gone never to return. The families that would never get their sons and daughters back.

"James." she said quickly, and he looked at her in earnest, "I….." He stared at her, the most serious she'd ever seen a look appear on his face.

"This is…." she couldn't get her words right, the puddle of her mind overwhelming. She couldn't look at him and speak what she actually wanted to say. It was too real. All of these. These feelings, what was going on around them. This war.

"Did something happen?" he asked quickly, "Listen, I just joke with you, no hard feelings, just-"

"I'll dance with you." she said quickly, "Tonight. Just-" she stood quickly with her half-finished cup of coffee, looking down at her pants rather than him, "-just….I'll see you there." She took her plate and then spun away, moving around the edge of the table, her eyes on the door.

"Wait, wait, Bergie-" Dougie said, jumping to his feet, and lightly placing a hand on her elbow. She turned to look up at him, catching him in the haze of late morning light and watched as his eyes softened, only seen by her, his eyes lingering on parts of her face she hated to show a soul, his body heat penetrating her own with how close he seemed to be.

"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, dropping his voice, "I mean, you don't have to dance with me. I just…..we never have and I figured I owed ya-"

"I'm fine." she managed quickly, "No, we'll….we'll dance. It's fine. I'm fine." She offered a smile his way and he watched her, regarding her face quietly.

"I didn't ask you because there's another girl or to have a laugh, none of that, that's a shit thing to do, alright?" he said quietly, "I asked you because I want to dance with you. You, Bergie." She stared at him, her eyes flicking back and forth, over and over. The longer she stared at him, the more her heart began to race and the blood rushed to her cheeks.

"What I'm trying to say is that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and I finally have the opportunity to dance. With you." Dougie said quickly, his ears and upper cheeks turning red, even though he seemed to try to hide it. Between both their faces and the redness of their cheeks, it was quite a sight for any onlooker or eavesdropper. She stared at him.

"I almost did. Back in Greenland. You definitely didn't want anything to do with me, but I almost did it." he said, a nervous smile on his face, "Figured you were pissed with me. So I didn't. As usual." She continued to watch him - him, rambling, her, staring. After a few moments of silence that lingered between them, she blinked.

"I'm always pissed with you." she said, but she said it in a way that was both factual and sarcastic and got a smile going on Dougie's face.

"Well, I know that," he said, "figured you wouldn't want to dance with the guy you're pissed off at. I don't know, as I go to twirl you, you'd probably try to push me into a wall or something."

Carrie stared at him - she'd let him twirl her into his chest and more, hold her close to his chest, in his broad, warm arms, tell her it was okay, that this was okay, that this was allowed, that she could feel this. She stared at him, her heart racing. And he stared back, that deep look in his eye that was enough to make her lose it.

"Keep looking at me like that and you'll get more than you bargained for." she whispered softly and then offered him a small, smirking grin, and walked away, her cheeks and ears burning.

If she looked back, she'd get that look that she knew was on his face, forever implanted in her mind and she couldn't have that yet. Not now.

As she placed away the plate and took one last sip of her coffee, she moved towards the door with her arms crossed and glanced over her shoulder just as she stepped out and looked to where Dougie was, stood still, hands in his pockets, watching her like something holy had just appeared right in front of him. She winked.

#masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #carrie achterberg #james douglass #carrie x dougie #james douglass x oc #DOUGIEEE!!!! #these two were fun to write i wont lie hehe #and i have so many more ideas for them too so !!!!! :) #dougie was fun to write too lmfao hes chaotic and its fun LOL #THEM !!!! #also carrie in her feels and she tries to hide it but with dougie she lets it down a bit now - i will go and sob #also: charlotte tarvers mention !!!! #ENJOY!!!!!

[thelampisaflashlight]

Shutterbug: Point and Shoot

[Dew and Aeon go to the lake to take pictures of the sunrise. Angst comes and goes in a blink. Baphomet persists.] Below the cut.

"Why do we have to get up so early for this?" Aeon whines, dragging his feet through the tall grass, slumped forward dramatically with an almost comical pout on his face as he follows Dew towards the lake.

"If you want to photograph the sunrise, you need to get up before the sun rises." the older man says, unbothered by the younger's antics, "Simple as that."

Aeon gives a little huff before a yawn slips from his lips, causing Dew to yawn as well, "It's so early though... There's a whole hour before the sun rises, and it only takes ten minutes to walk here from the dorms!"

Dew rolls his eyes and sets down the large backpack slung over his shoulder, gesturing for Aeon to do the same.

"If I let you sleep in any longer, you wouldn't be awake enough to help me set up, let alone take the pictures. You said you wanted to learn how to use an actual camera, and here we are."

The quintessence ghoul hums, "Here we are..."

With a sigh, Aeon casts his gaze over the lake, still lit by the stars that are only now starting to fade from view.

The ground is cool under his feet, and the toes of his sneakers are lightly soaked by the morning dew.

He inhales slow and deep and feels himself slowly beginning to wake.

"At least it's nice out here..." he says, turning towards Dew, who is rummaging through his bag, taking out a tripod and another, compact bag from within that looks worn in a well loved kind of way, "So... I never got to ask, since the others recommended that I go to you to learn about this stuff, but, uh, how long have you been into photography?"

"Aw, geez, it's been a long time..." Dew picks up a flat rock from the dirt, sliding it under one of the legs of the tripod, making it more level, "Couple decades now, I guess?"

"A couple... A couple what?? A couple decades??" Aeon balks, "But you've only been on the surface since..."

He counts on his fingers, but gets stuck.

"H-How is that even possible??"

Dew stands up, bracing against his knees as he does so, "Huh, guess that story slipped through the cracks... I mean, yeah, I..."

He places a hand on his chest.

"I don't mean me." he says, "I mean this guy."

He sweeps his hand up to his face and then downwards.

"My vessel."

Aeon blinks.

"Your vessel...?"

"Ough... they really don't tell you new summons anything..." Dew stretches and then grabs one of the folding chairs he made Aeon carry with them, "Pop a squat, Sparkles, we have some time to kill anyway."

Aeon tilts his head sideways, but does as he's told. Once he's settled, Dew sits down, looking out over the horizon.

"It's all kind of complicated, but the long and short of it is; My body, this face you're looking at, this isn't a glamour. It's not an approximation of what I would look like if I were human... it is human."

"I... Okay." Aeon looks at Dew sideways, "So... You're human then?"

"Was." Dew says, stretching his legs out, "I was, but I also wasn't. Sometimes... Sometimes, when the church needs a ghoul... No, that's... Let's just go with that, yeah?"

Aeon nods.

"The best way I can put it, is that this body belonged to someone else, and then another person -a demon- laid claim to it, but instead of forcing the other soul out... they kind of, I dunno, melded together?" Dew emphasizes his point by making a squishing motion with his hands, "So I'm, like, some kind of weird soul baby of those two people."

"Hehe... Soul baby..."

"Shut up, I said it was complicated."

"Sorry."

"...You are forgiven, for now." Dew snorts, "Anyway."

Dew taps the side of his head.

"Basically means I have memories from two different lives mushed together in the old brain box, and to get to the point already, the first guy was a photographer."

"Ohhh... So you retained all of his memories of how to do this then?" Aeon asks, looking at the bags again, "That's pretty-"

Aeon pauses, brow furrowing.

"...What happened?"

Dew raises a brow, turning his head towards him, "Mn?"

"What happened to the photographer guy? Like, if you're..." he bites the inside of his cheek, "Am I not supposed to ask-"

"I never said you couldn't, and do I look bothered?" Dew questions, his posture too casual, too relaxed for him to be annoyed, "Do you really wanna know?"

Another pause.

"...Yes, please."

Dew closes his eyes for a moment and sits up slightly.

"Here, I'll show you how to set up the camera first so we don't forget why we're out here..."

And they do.

Dew makes Aeon do most of the set-up and adjustments to the equipment himself, "So you can get a feel for it."

When all is said and done, Dew lets him tweak camera's settings a bit more before motioning for him to sit back down.

"I've been into photography since I was a kid, couldn't tell you how old I was when I first held a camera, but I do know what my first clear picture was of." he says, leaning back in his chair, "We had this little terrier, Wilma, when I was little, and the thing couldn't sit still for the life of her, but I somehow managed to get her to stay put for a photo... Probably bribed her with an entire bag of biscuits, but I was really proud of how it came out."

"I don't really remember many of my early, early memories, especially not the ones from this guy, but I remember that." he utters softly, a hint of warmth blossoming on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, subtle embarrassment, "Being proud..."

"I can also remember being fucking miserable."

A cool breeze rolls across the grass, and Aeon uses it to hide the shiver that runs up his spine at Dew's words.

"...Before I go any further, do you still want to hear about this?"

Aeon swallows, then thinks.

"Do you really want to talk about it?" he counters, and Dew gives a little puff through his nose, "Really, though."

He shrugs.

"It was a long time ago, Sparkles."

"Doesn't mean it can't still hurt." Aeon whispers a bit too knowingly for Dew's liking, if the little noise in the back of his throat is any indication of that.

"...I died." he says after a moment of silence, "I died, Aeon."

"You... You died?"

"I don't know the full details, and I don't want to know, but yeah." he nods, "Yeah."

Aeon watches the cattails wave in the wind, processing what his packmate just said.

"I guess I got lost out in the woods nearby, and some siblings found me and brought my body back here." Dew continues, "There's a lot of... little details that flicker around in my head from time to time, fragments of memories, or maybe dreams I'm misremembering, but I mostly just remember, ya know, stuff like this."

He points at the camera.

"I didn't forget how to do things like read or write, and I knew things I liked and didn't like, but I forgot most of what made me this guy."

"Did he have a name?" Aeon asks, taking in Dew's features anew, from the sharpness of his nose, to the gentleness of his brow.

"Probably." Dew laughs, "Actually, yes, but that's also something I've decided I don't want to know. The files are all there, if I decide to deep dive into my past, but I already promised myself I wouldn't do that."

"...But you died."

"You're wondering how I'm here now, right?"

Aeon nods.

"Well, there was this goat-"

.

.

.

"Well, hello, Moonlight, how'd your little photography lesson with Dew go?" Swiss asks, legs kicked up over the armrest the couch in the common room as he half watches the morning news, eyeing a harrowed looking Aeon.

The ghoul stares blankly at the wall for a solid minute before he replies.

"...Have you hear the Bapho-tits story before or is Dew full-on fucking with me?"

Swiss almost pulls a muscle from the involuntary sit-up he does from wheezing too hard.

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic

[reidingandwriting]

Speak Now (Hotch's Version)

Chapter Three: Haunted

"Don't go, don't go, don't leave me like this..."

Word Count: 1,400 (another short one, sorry!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: Criminal Minds level of violence, gunshots mentioned, reader gets injured

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Eight months had passed since you’ve started dating Aaron, and you couldn’t be happier. You had met Jess a few weeks into dating, and a few weeks later, you met Jack. You adored the kid and he always seemed happy when you were around, which made Aaron happy, which made you even happier. You had now been a part of the BAU for almost nine months now, and you were happy. Things were never better. 

You had spent the night at Aaron’s the night before, due to the water in your apartment building being shut off. You had gotten back from a long case, Jack at Jess’s, and you barely even remember walking through the door a little after midnight- just to be woken at four o’clock with another case. 

“Do we have to?” You whined as you rolled over, and you draped yourself across Aaron as you felt him start to sit up. Aaron carded his fingers through your hair, a tired chuckle leaving his lips, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I know,” Aaron’s voice was soothing, deep and raspy from just waking up. “Hopefully you can sleep on the jet.” You mumbled some incoherent response and dragged yourself out of bed. God you hated these early morning calls. You stumbled through your getting ready routine, and you sipped at the coffee clutched in your hands like it was a lifeline. 

Not even an hour later, you were on the plane for a flight to Los Angeles. You laid on the couch, your legs draped over Emily’s lap. Aaron was half asleep, head leaned against his window, and the usual antics you and your teammates got into were abandoned for rest. You had a feeling this case, a serial killer who abducts his victims then holds them for a few days of torture before brutally killing them on the fourth day. You had a feeling this would be another long, hard case. 

And you were so, so right. Word had gotten out that the BAU was working the case, and your unsub went silent for nearly two weeks. On day eleven, he acted again and he had devolved exponentially. Two bodies were found in the alley near the precinct, and none of the nearby cameras got a clear enough image to identify the unsub. You hadn’t seen anything like it in your time at the FBI, let alone the short time you’ve been in the BAU, and you felt discouraged. This was a mutual feeling across the board with the team, and you could feel the tension as you walked into a room. It was hard enough to mask your feelings when talking to families and local detectives, and you could barely hide your frustrations with the case when you walked into your hotel. 

“Do you want to shower first?” Aaron asked and you shrugged as you fell face first into your bed. 

“Wanna shower but also just want to melt into this mattress and not get back up,” you said, your voice muffled by the comforter. “You can shower first, I just. I need quiet and the shower feels too loud right now.” Aaron’s footsteps sounded through the room, followed by the click of a light switch. The room was enveloped into darkness, and a second later, the bathroom light was turned on, giving a light glow to the room. “Thank you.”

“Do you need anything else?” Aaron asked and you thought for a moment.

“‘M okay. Thank you,” you turned your head to offer a small smile to Aaron and winced as your head throbbed. 

“Migraine?” Aaron asked as he walked over to his suitcase and you groaned in response. “Need water?”

“Nuh uh,” you said and Aaron took your hand before he tucked two pills into your hand. 

“I’ll be quick, then you can shower. Hopefully get some sleep,” Aaron pressed a kiss to your hair and you leaned into the touch. Aaron gently rubbed your shoulder once before he walked to the shower, the door shutting behind him, and you welcomed the darkness. You sat up to swallow the pills and hoped you’d at least get a little sleep tonight.

As if your body had read your mind, you barely got any sleep last night. The migraine had dissipated to an easily ignored ache, but your brain refused to shut off. There was so much noise outside your hotel, Aaron’s usually happily welcomed cuddling tendencies had become too much sensory wise, and you were stressed. You clutched your thermos as if your life depended on it, and you felt seconds from snapping at the next person that breathed in your direction. You, Aaron, and Emily were in the SUV to follow a new lead and Emily’s humming in the backseat was slowly grating at your nerves. 

“Can you just? Shut up for one minute?” You snapped and Aaron glanced over at you with a concerned frown and Emily hesitated, taken aback by your tone. Aaron said your name and you barely fought the urge to huff like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, I just don’t get what there is to be humming about right now. This is a shit case and I don’t mean to be an ass, but-” You were cut off by Aaron saying your name again, this time in his ‘boss’ voice. 

“That’s enough. If you can’t control yourself better than this, I’ll send a cab to take you back to the hotel. We don’t need you out in the field today if you can’t control your temper.” 

“I can handle it, sir.” You didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but the words slipped before you even processed what you were saying. Aaron put the SUV into park as you reached the house you would be checking out, and Aaron’s jaw was clenched. “I’m sorry,” you said, but you knew it was too late. 

“We’ll discuss this later. Stay in the car, we shouldn’t be long.” Aaron said and he started to get out of the car. Emily followed and you leaned back in your seat, drinking some more of your coffee that now tasted sour. Grounded to the car, like a child. You took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down and sat in silence for a few minutes. 

-

“Is everything okay?” Emily asked and Aaron let out a slow breath. The house looked empty and the two spoke in faint whispers as they did another light sweep. 

“They’re just… overwhelmed. Doesn’t excuse it, but tensions are high. It’s nothing personal.” Aaron said. Another clear pass through the second floor and the two agents made their way downstairs. When another sweep of the downstairs revealed nothing, Aaron and Emily started to make their way outside until BANG BANG BANG. The sound of gunshots had Emily and Aaron ducking, and Aaron covering Emily. 

“It came from outside,” Emily whispered in horror and Aaron’s heart stopped. Aaron ran outside and his years of training were almost forgotten at that moment. The SUV door was opened, and the unsub stood over a body a few yards away, gun in hand. Aaron barely recognized the body as your own before he raised his own gun, a shot to the chest sending the unsub to the ground. A weak cough sounded and Aaron ran to you, immediately dropping to his knees.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Aaron mumbled and your eyes were hazy as they met his. “Hey, hey. Stay focused on me, okay?” Aaron’s voice wavered and your breath hitched as your eyes watered. Aaron pressed his hands to your wounds, hoping to slow the bleeding until medical could get there. He just had to keep you alive until then, just had to keep you talking.

“I, I saw him- Tried to, to get away. Couldn’t… couldn’t let him. M sorry for leavin’ the car.” Your eyes blinked a few times, like you were trying to focus. “Cold.”

“I know, I know. You’ll be taken care of soon, and they’ll fix it. You’ll be okay, you just have to stay awake. Just a little longer,” Aaron pleaded and your hand reached out for his. You rested your hand on top of his own, your speech slurring. 

“Love.. you… Aaron.”

“I love you, too,” A choked cry left Aaron’s lips and the sound of sirens sounded faint as they started to approach. “Hey, hey, keep your eyes open.” A panicked cry of your name was the last thing you heard as you slipped into darkness.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #bau!reader

[grantwilsonenjoyer]

The thought just struck me

Do you think anyone but the teens ever knew that normal watched his mum die? Because I don't think they'd mention it personally,

She's there, she's fine, the whole family is back together, finally, and the kids are all still in shock from this huge horrific fight, killing a man, and then becoming god for a second

So it's forgotten in the moment

And later they each remember it, but individually don't bring it up for whatever reason, link doesn't have the voice for it, Taylor doesnt think to mention it, scary is having a hard enough time bringing herself to tell her parents anything, let alone something she views as indirectly her fault (letting willy out in the first place)

And normal? Normal can't bring himself to ruin the good vibe in his family, his granddad is here, his parents are there, completely fine, uncle lark is doing better and getting on with grandpa Henry, hero is even spending time with him

How can he tell someone he watched willy murder the woman standing there in front of him, laughing at something lark said while he's washing up

Maybe hero finds out first, months later, maybe years, hidden under a duvet in the dead of night, they do this sometimes, when hero can't sleep thinking about her almost destiny, and normal can't sleep because of his destiny that was

And he whispers to her, very quietly, that sometimes he forgets that he'd brought mum back when he was god, some days he walks down stairs and instead of his mother eating breakfast or drinking coffee all he can see is the look on her face the moment she exploded into dust, sometimes he's not sure shes really their mother but is more like the build-a-bear hermie2, who is definitely a real person sure, but hes too similar to normals dead husband while too different at the same time

Or maybe it's scary who says it first

In one of the many midnight snack meetings she has with Terry Jr nowadays, they never talk much, usually just absentmindedly watch some TV while neither can sleep because of willy

She says that she feels guilty for a lot of things, and she knows she's not supposed to because willy manipulated her, but even when she can forgive herself for the active participation in tony pepperonis murder, she hasn't been able to forgive herself for causing Rebecca's death, and she's not sure she ever will

I love how will Campos can go an name a character Normal as if I'm ever going to have a normal thought about that boy ever also him and Hermie2 did date for a bit but had to break up because normal kept waking up screaming thinking he was back holding Hermies lifeless corpse byyyeeeeeeeeeeeedeeeeeeeeeeeee

HI SORRY I NEVER ANSWERED YHIS OOPSIES

and yea i think norm prob did not talk much abt what happened given that bec is still alive, and it's just kind of? brushed over at first?

i think he maybe doesn't even Realize it's still affecting him at first but every time he sees his mom laugh it makes him feel kind of sick. his fight-or-flight activates when they're having family time and she's not there, and at first he thinks it's just because he still isn't getting along with sparrow that well. and then one day he has a nightmare, maybe, or a panic attack, or Something. and it just clicks. he watched her die. she shouldn't be here, but she is, and so all of the love and grief for her can't even come out. it's all stuck in those few moments where she was gone, and so is normal, and so he can't quite believe that she's real unless he can actually see/hear her (and even then, sometimes it's hard)

BUT i do wonder if sparrow knows, given that norm chose to use the 'wish' on the throne to bring back her (&the rest of the ppl willy killed). and i think they worry abt it a lot, esp having gone thru the Same Thing (twice, if you count lark in oakvale) but norm obviously doesnt want to talk to them so they don't even know if they should try.. uaugh.

also norm and hero :(( i adore them i am cradling them so gently. The siblings ever.

+ ALSOOO scary . see this is extra crazy b/c obviously she is in a very similar situation as well with terry jr.. norm wanting to talk to scary b/c maybe she'll Get It but also being so worried that scary is going to blame herself even more if he opens up abt it.. what if i Died

+will campos wants me specifically dead i'm gonna GET him

#dndads #dndads s2 spoilers #normal oak #sparrow oak #scary marlowe #help girl now i need scary and norm comforting each other about their 'technically dead but also not' parents.. hmmm #we will see how much i want to write later LOL

[itsjaywalkers]

babe i miss ur rants like crazy so if u have any rant that needs to be indulged this is me indulging u <3333

this actually made me so soft.. i didn't know there was someone who enjoyed my rants so much.. i always feel kinda annoying.. i'm giving u the biggest forehead kiss in the world nonnie YOU'RE THE BEST

this being said . well

lately i've been thinking a lot about this band au i don't know if i'll ever write or if it'll just stay in my head, bc when i first started reading fanfiction i was OBSESSED with band aus and even tho i'm not that into them anymore . they make me feel very nostalgic and happy so i was like u know what . i should come up with my own. AND THAT'S WHAT I DID!!

anyways it's a dual pov, james and lily's!! they used to date, and since james is the lead singer in a very popular band, they were the it couple back then, everyone was fucking obsessed with them, said they were Perfect, peak romance, they wanted what they had etc etc. lily even sang with him sometimes when the band went on tour, bc she has a beautiful voice and all the fans kept pushing for her to join the band and sing all the ballads with james etc

but then . all of a sudden . she disappeared . not literally, you know, she just fucking ran away, without telling a single soul. she didn't even leave a letter to james, or maybe remus, who was one of her best friends. james was devastated, the band was devastated, the whole world was devastated. they went on hiatus for a lil before coming back with a very different vibe and since then . well . no one talks about lily evans . reporters try to bring her up every now and again bc they're nosy fuckers but james goes all stiff and his replies become stilted (even if still perfectly professional)

flashforward to . when the story actually starts . a new band has just debuted and it's rising to fame concernigly quick and james remus sirius and peter are going Crazy bc they feel a bit threatened and also oh would u look at that?? if it isn't sirius' estranged brother in the flesh!! playing the drums for this stupid band who's trying to compete with them!!

and if that wasn't enough !! lily finally returns to their lives............... she's also making a debut but as a soloist.............. and she's very Different from the lily they remember................... her songs are loud and aggressive and filled with resentment and very obviously about james and their relationship and james' friends. she's mean and bold and witty and everyone is Wondering if there was more to her disappearance than what they thought

it'll be jegulus and bartylily <3 and one of the reasons why idk if i'll ever write it it's bc one of the reasons why lily left is that she got pregnant and she didn't want it so she aborted and . we all know how this fandom gets about lily and motherhood lmao

anyways one of the scenes that's been plaguing my mind is this one that happens after lily and barty have started sleeping together and spending more and more time in each other's presence!! they're in barty's flat and barty wakes up at some point in the middle of the night just to discover he's alone in bed. so he wakes up and finds lily sitting at the kitchen table, notebook open, pen in hand and humming under her breath. he hugs her from behind and sees she's writing something new and they talk a lil, bicker some and tease even more, and then barty tells her she should write a song about him and stop dissing that stupid ex bf of hers bc it's getting old. lily laughs and asks him if he wants a cheesy love song and barty cackles and shakes his head and says that he'd rather have one of her dissing songs, bc they're fun and likes it when she gets all mean. besides, the press wouldn't believe her if she wrote something nice or sweet about him bc barty is always getting into scandal after scandal

lily does end up writing a song about barty, dissing him (affectionately except ppl don't know that) and when she first performs it live, she does so while just wearing one of barty's shirts and barty laughs the whole time while sporting the biggest heart eyes known to mankind

#asks #anons #bartylily

[squib-2006]

I have an idea

An au where Kai never shows up to the chens noodle house meeting cuz he was mad at what Lloyd said and instead ends up going deeper into ninjagos crime scene.

* Kai gets pissed at Lloyd callling him selfish and ends up getting really drunk and misses the meeting with Lloyd jay and Cole

* On his way back he accidentally falls into one of the canals and almost drowns. He manages to get out but a passer by recognizes him and saw him fall in but didn’t see him come back up

* Kai gets back to where ever he’s staying and promptly passes out for like three days

* The person that saw him fall in calls the cops and they assume Kai drowned and begin searching for his body

* Lloyd and the others at this point are already at chen’s island.

* Nya gets a call from the police about Kai and she like them assumes he drowned.

* She begins looking for Lloyd and the others to tell them that Kai’s gone then gets wrapped up in all the Chen stuff

* Kai wakes up to find that he’s on the news for being dead

* He decides to take advantage of this and decides to just go by shogun now

* He also decides to “pretend” to be female cuz he’s to recognizable no ther reason totalyyyy (yes this is a transfem Kai au cuz I do what I want)

* Meanwhile with the ninja when they catch up with Nya they learn that Kai’s dead and are very upset about it

* Chen also fails in his plans because he doesn’t have all the elements and when he try’s to use the spell the staff explodes killing him & clouce

* Skylor is arrested and put into kryptarium for working with her dad (this is very important I promise)

* Lloyd feels really bad about Kai because the last time they spoke he said really mean stuff and he wonders if Kai fell in somehow related to that.

* Meanwhile Kai begins making connections in the crime sphere in ninjago. She wears a disguise (a mask, dress large jacket and other clothing to hide her identity) and grows a reputation for herself

* She eventually starts to notice how shitty life is for lower class citizens of ninjago city and how the criminals and the upper class take advantage of that.

* She starts helping these people (mainly orphans) and creates a safe haven for them where all of them can live safely under her protection.

* She amasses a following for the people she helped + some criminals who have kinda changed their ways and they become a pretty big gang in ninjago city (I don’t have a name for this yet)

* With the ninja morro happens but garmadon takes the place of Kai in it cuz he never got banished (just imagine morro got let out by clouse on accident cuz he still attempted to banish garm but failed) and everything is basically the same up until they confront ronin

* Back with Kai a few months before Lloyd gets possessed she ran into a girl on the street named Natalie. Natalie claims to be an orphan and Kai does what she normally does when she finds a poor starving orphan on the street, she scoops her up and brings her back to her shelter (I don’t have a name for this yet either)

* Turns out Natalie is actually ronins daughter. She used to live with her parents in Styx (ronin was still doing ronin stuff so he was constantly gone all the time and she mainly lived with her mom) until one day ronin refused to pay soul archer his debt and souls archer went after his family. Nat’s mom ends up sacrificing her self to protect nat and nat runs away after. She ends up in ninjago city all alone.

* Kai after learning this decides to go and have a chat with ronin (because no one hurts her kids the people under her protection) and she runs into the ninja + garm when she goes to confront ronin (it’s when the ninja try and steal the scroll much to garms dismay because he’s still trying to be good)

* She panics but is slightly relieved when non of the ninja recognizes her (definitely helps that she’s wearing a mask and feminine clothes) ronin does tho due to his connections and questions her on why she’s here

* She doesn’t speak and just attacks him (she’s too worried the ninja will recognize her voice and she thinks that they won’t agree with what she’s doing and will be mad at her)

* So chaos ensues and Kai ends up leaving once she realizes Lloyd’s been possessed by a ghost and decides to dip to not interfere with the ninja’s mission anymore

* The season goes on as planned but the ninja now know who “shogun” is thanks to ronin. Lloyds a bit suspicious because of Kai’s red shogun name but guesses that maybe she was inspired by Kai or it’s just a coincidence.

* When Kai gets back she learns that some of her group members got arrested while trying to stop a fight between two other groups and decides to brake them out of kryptarium

* Cue skylors entrance

* Skylor manages to try and escape in the chaos of Kai’s brake in and almost escapes but is cornered by some guards

* Kai who’s crawling through the vents to get out while her group members have already escaped stops when she sees skylor getting cornered. Cue the love at first sight thing and she decides to help Skylor escape cuz she’s so pretty

* Skylor accepts Kai’s help and they escape and Kai brings her to her shelter

* Skylor has had a lot of time to reflect on her self during her imprisonment and is now glad her dad died cuz she really hated being evil

* Kai and Skylor grow closer together as Skylor joins the group and eventually Kai confesses her true identity cuz she trusts Skylor

* Skylor is confused at first because the ninja put her in prison and evreything but is ok with it because of how different Kai is

* Skylor is transfem in this au too! She she helps Kai realize that she’s not pretending to be a girl and helps her except herself

* They eventually form a romantic bond and skylor takes up a new persona to work under (I don’t have a name for it yet) to match Kai’s shogun persona

That’s all I have for now but this was all rattling around in my brain and I had to write it down

Other important stuffs

* Kai’s more morally grey in this au

* She kinda becomes similar to Jason Todd in the way she acts with her shogun persona

* She basically unofficially adopts all the orphan kids she lets stay in her shelter they all call her big sis sho

* In her group she has her close lieutenants (all ocs that I’m still thinking about names for) including skylor as her right hand woman

* She is a wanted criminal because she has broken some laws

* She doesn’t really use her powers or spinjitzu unless it’s really dire circumstances cuz it could be trailed back to her life as a ninja

* She’s kinda scared of seeing her the ninja again because she feels like she’s betrayed everything they stand for by being morally grey and doing borderline bad things

Feel free to ask me questions about this au (might help me come up with more ideas for it)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #kai ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago au #kai jiang #kai smith #skylor chen #skylor ninjago #transfem Kai #crime lord Kai au #kai <3 #I apologize for any spelling mistakes I suck at spelling crap dispite English being my first language #Kai gets to be morally grey as a treat #I’m gunna be working on my ocs for this tho #I have never been more attracted to an au idea besides this one #most of my au’s rot in my brain or my notes app but this one was too good not to yap about

[luna13e-blog]

Rosekiller. TW: Mentions of abuse, necromancy, dead rabbits.

"I'm going to kill him", Barty said through clenched teeth but his hand kept softly tracing the scars over Evan's back. Some were almost invisible but some other were new, angry pink over pale skin. They weren't there before the summer.

"I've had it worst", Evan shrugged.

Barty flinched, remembering second year when Evan came back to school with three broken ribs, left unhealed. "I know." It took him and Regulus a month to make him talk and a while more to make him smile again. "It doesn't make me want to kill him less."

Evan shuffled on his chest, moving to be able to see him. His blue eyes looked at him with worry. "I'm sorry", he mumbled.

Barty sighed, his hand still tracing patterns over Evan's skin. "It's not you who I am mad with, big boy."

"But I made you upset", Evan argued before letting his head fall again. "M'sorry".

Barty looked at the head of blonde hair over his chest and the huge body that suddenly looked small in there. He sighed, nuzzling the top of Evan's head with his nose. "Don't ever apologize for this".

"But..."

"Don't."

Even nodded slightly, closing his eyes. "I'm getting better at it", he whispered, "I'll be better next time and he'll stop."

Barty's eyebrow furrowed. "Evan..."

"It's fine." There wasn't anything fine with any of it.

"I swear..."

"Don't kill him, Barty"

"Why?!"

"Because if he dares to touch you, I'd have to kill him again and necromancy isn't my strong suit", the blonde stated simply.

Barty looked at him surprised but Evan didn't notice. A hint of a smile still creeped its way up his mouth. "Have you tried?"

"Mhm", Evan mumbled between a yawn. "Last year. A dead rabbit I found in the backyard."

"Why?"

"I was bored", Evan shrugged again. "He looked like good company, he wasn't."

Barty stared at the huge boy on his chest and his jaw sets again at the image of Evan alone in his parent's summer house. The scars seem to shine under the dim light that finds its way through his bed curtains. He stayed quiet while Evan slowly fell asleep with a peaceful expression he never had when he was awake.

"I'll kill him", he whispered again, low enough not to wake Evan up.

It was a promise.

Even when, at sixteen, there wasn't much he could do.

~~~~~~

Notes: For reasons I can't comprehend this was written hearing 16 and in love by Spencer Jordan. And yes. I'm trying to write shorter things. Not really succeeding.

Pd: They are fucked up kids and I love them, your honor.

#rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #marauders #baby death eaters #I'm back on my wrecked Evan era #(I actually never left) #I'm sad and sick and I'm going to make it everybody's problem #maybe im remembering how to write