#me yelling SHUT THE FUCK UP at the race replay as if the whole thing had not already happened by the time i watched it

[leossmoonn]

New Year’s Kiss

masterlist

pairing - james potter x sirius's sister,fem!reader

type - fluff

summary - you and your younger brother, sirius, stay at the potter’s for new year’s

warning - alcohol, language

————

*gif isn't mine*

“Honey, we're home!” You sang aloud. Sirius rolled your eyes at your dramatics, pushing past you with your guys’s luggage. You glared at him, following him into the house.  “Hey, guys!” James smiled and came out from the kitchen. 

“Hi, Prongs,” Sirius set down your suitcases and went over to hug his best friend. 

“Where’s my hug?” You pouted. James let go of Sirius and went over to you. You gave him a bright smile and hugged him tight. 

You stayed there for as long as you could, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You set your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. You pulled away, standing back and looking at him. He had a full head of raven hair, perfect pink lips, and a big smile on his face. He was wearing a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. 

“Enough of the ogling, please. I’m about to vomit,” Sirius said.

You and James blushed, averting your eyes away from each other. 

“C’mon, baby bro, it’s not like you don’t stare at Marlene like that,” you teased. 

Now it was Sirius’s time to blush. “Bugger off.”

You and James chuckled at Sirius. 

“You do that to Lily,” Sirius said to James. 

You smile turned to a frown immediately. “Prick.”

You walked away from your brother and James, slumping down on the couch. James glared at Sirius. 

“Seriously? You know I don't like Lily anymore,” James whispered to Sirius. 

”What about me?” 

You turned to the living room, surprised to see Lily coming out from the kitchen. 

”I-hey, how long have you been here?” You asked. 

”Just for half an hour,” she smiled and came over. “How have you guys been?”

“Um, good,” you said, averting your eyes from her. 

Sirius noticed the tension in the room and put on a light smile. “James, mate, do we have any booze?”

“Yeah, we should,” James said and moved past you, brushing his hand purposely on yours. It earned him a smile, to which he returned.

“Where’s Moony?” Sirius asked. “Should be here soon,” James said from the kitchen.

“Oh, I’ve missed Remus! I can’t wait to see him!” Lily exclaimed and clapped her hands excitedly.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

Sirius put a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n! Why don’t we unpack out things, huh?”

You looked him, thankful he was pulling you away from Lily. Between the two of you, and Remus, you could not stand Lily. It was mostly because James has been pining over her ever since he first saw her. At first, you didn’t care. To you, James was your little brother’s friend. But when you were in 5th year and James was in 4th year, you and James had started to hang out more. WIth your family shutting out Sirius, you had, on multiple occasions, dropped Sirius off at the Potter’s. You knew Sirius needed some space from your family, so you were more than happy to get him to wherever he needed to be. It also gave you a chance to get close with James and Remus, which led to you quickly becoming their friends, but also fancying James.

"Thank you for that,” you said once you and Sirius got upstairs into the guest bedroom.

“No problem. I know you don't like her very much,” Sirius said.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “I thought James and I would have some alone time. Guess not.”

You and Sirius had gone to the Potter’s for New Years. Sirius and you were anticipating the stay. Especially since your household was your own personal hell, and well, you were excited to see James. 

It wasn't a secret that you had fancied him for the last two years (well, it was a secret to James, since he was an oblivious idiot). Problem was, you weren’t sure if he liked you. You thought he did, since he had rejected Lily’s attempts to kiss him for the past two years. But now, since she had been at his house alone, you seriously doubted that.

 But, he seemed to have feelings for you, too, but he never made an effort to do anything about them. You two always danced on the edge of it. Almost kissing, the extra touches and hugs. Hell, even Remus noticed and he was usually oblivious to such things, but James just never seemed to get the hint, no matter how many you gave him. 

“I hope you know I was just kidding,” Sirius said, reminding you of his comment about James and Lily. 

“Yeah, I know,” you said, giving him a forgiving smile. 

“Are you ready to go back downstairs?” Sirius asked. 

“I guess,” you sighed. You two walked slowly downstairs, seeing Remus in the living room, talking with Lily. 

“Moony! Finally you’re here!” Sirius said and came over to him. 

Remus turned around and smiled widely at you and Sirius.

“Hi, guys. Hey, Y/n,” Remus smiled at you. “Hey, Remmy,” you went over to him and gave him a big hug.

“What took ya so long?” You pulled back from the hug, settling your hand on your hip. 

“Mum got up late,” Remus explained. 

“Well, now we got the whole gang here!” James smiled and looked at all of you, his eyes lingering on you for a few moments. It made you blush, and you noticed Lily glaring at you beside you, which made you smirk.

“Aren’t you inviting more people? Like your Quidditch teammates?” You asked. 

“Yeah, but I’m happy to have a few moments with just us,” James smiled at you. 

You returned the smile. 

“My new boyfriend is coming,” Lily said. 

You looked to her, raising your eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yep! Bill Woods, from Transfiguration,” Lily said. 

You looked at James, who looked un-phased. Just then, your heart had a little faith that you two could maybe be an item.

“How fun,” Remus said, smiling at her.

“People are going to be coming soon, so help me set up, yeah?” James asked, keeping his eyes on you.

You all nodded, following James  to the kitchen. You all got out the snacks, soda, and beer. You set it all out on the kitchen table, turning on some music to jam out to before people going here.

Soon, a few of James and Sirius’s Quidditch mates arrived. They brought people, who brought other people, which made the house pretty full and cramped.

You greeted people with a wave as you walked passed them, trying to find where Remus, Sirius, and James were. You managed to knock into someone.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” You exclaimed.

“Oh, no, you’re fine!” 

You looked up to see no one other than Lily Evans. You turned your head to roll your eyes and sigh, looking back at her and painting on a smile.

“Oh, hey, Lily.”

“Hey, Y/n! Great party, right?” She smiled.

“Yeah! James really knows how to plan,” you chuckled.

“James said you did all the planning?”

You furrowed your brows. “Well, I-I did, but it is his house and stuff.”

“Ah, I see, well it’s still a great party!” Lily reached over to give you a hug.

“Oh!” You yelped in surprise, but hugged her back nonetheless. “Thank you! And you’re welcome! You are one of James’s friends after all!”

Lily pulled back and chuckled, “Yes, true! Well, I’ll talk to you later. I have to go and find Marlene. Make sure she’s not wasted and screwing Sirius.”

You laughed a little, “Have fun!”

Lily gave you a wave and walked off. You sighed loudly. Seeing the girl that your long-time crush supposedly used to like for a whole day was never easy. Especially not since you had 2 1/2 bottles of beer in you, and you were an emotional drunk.

You walked through the dancing crowd, getting nudged by people every so often. You had finally found Remus, who was talking with Bill, who happened to be Lily’s date. “Hey, Bill!” You smiled.

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Bill turned his attention to you.

“How are you?” You asked.

“Good, you?”

“I’m fine! Having fun with Remus?” You turned your attetion to your friend.

“Yep,” Remus smiled.

“Weren’t you with Lily?” You asked Bill. 

“Yeah, but she’s run off. I assume to find James. We all know that she likes James,” Bill said, looking longingly at his beer. 

You sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a catch, Bill. Lily is a bimbo. Excuse my language.”

Bill smiled up at you. “Thanks, Y/n,”

“Mhm,” you hummed, then turned to Remus. “Do you happen to know where James and my little brother are?”

“I think I saw Sirius with Marlene in the living room, and I don’t know where James is. My best guess is the keg stand,” Remus said.

You nodded. “Thanks, Rem.” You turned back to Bill. “It was nice seeing you, Bill.”

“You, too, Y/n,” Bill smiled. 

You went to the kitchen, trying to see if you could find him, but there was no sign of him. You swear you saw him like, 5 minutes ago. You groaned and checked your watch. 11:50 PM. 

Your eyes widened as you realize it was already 10 minutes until midnight. You rushed out of the kitchen, racing to find James. Before it turned 12:01, you wanted to give James a New Year’s kiss, before it was too late.

After searching the whole downstairs again, you decided it was time to try the upstairs. You checked each room, growing more frustrated. 

“Where the hell is he?!” You exclaimed to yourself. 

You finally went into the last bedroom, which was conveniently James’s. You burst through the door, your eyes going wide and your throat going dry. You saw Lily and James, pressed up against each other. You saw that his hands were on her shoulders, their lips almost touching. 

“You having to be fucking kidding me right now. Seriously!” You exclaimed. 

James pushed Lily off of him gently, but enough to get away with her.  “Y/n, wait!” You scoffed, turning away and running down the stairs. You checked your watch. 11:57 PM. This was the worst way to end the year.

“Y/n!” James yelled while running behind you. You went into the living room, getting lost in the sea of people. 

Tears started to spring into your eyes as the picture of Lily and James replayed in your head. As you were walking away, a hand caught your wrist. You got spun around and was met with James’s face. 

“Let go of me!” You shouted. 

“No, Y/n, I need to explain!” James exclaimed. “Explain what! Because it seems pretty clear that you and Lily were about to kiss,” you scoffed. 

James look into your eyes. “No, no! I don’t like her. Not anymore! She was trying to kiss me. She’s off her rocker, I swear.”

“Cut the shit, James. We all know that you have been in love with her since you first mer her! I don’t blame you, though. She’s from a great family, she’s gorgeous, funny, kind,” you said. 

“So are you! I swear, Y/n. I don't like her!” James pleaded with you. He took your hands in his, pulling you close. 

“Do you like someone else then? Because I’m trying to send you hints all the time, but you never seem to pick up on them!” You said, your voice cracking.

In the background, the countdown to New Years started. 

10

9

“You, Y/n, I like you. I know you’ve been sending me hints, I’ve just been waiting for the right time. I’m sorry for making you wait so long,” James said. 

You stared at him, mouth wide open. “Y-You like me?”

“Yes! For two years. Since I was in 4th and you are in 5th year.” 8

7

Your face lit up, a wide smile appearing on your face. “I’ve liked you since 5th year, too.”

6

5

James smiled. “Can I, uh, kiss you?”

4

3

You giggled and nodded. As the few last seconds of the countdown sounded, James put his lips to yours. 

2

1

Sparks flew between you two as you kissed him back for the first time. Your hands pulled him closer, needy. Your hands went up to his hair, running your hands through his soft locks. James’s hands went on the small of your back, respectfully pressing his hands against you. You smiled into the kiss, all your doubts about you two going away.

James pulled away, looking at you with love-struck eyes. 

“Blimey, took you two long enough!” Sirius exclaimed right behind you. 

You and James smiled at each other, staring deep into each other’s eyes.

“What a great start to the New Year,” you said contently. 

————

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@kaitieskidmore1​

#james potter imagines #james potter x reader #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders era #james potter #young james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #lily evans #harry potter #harry potter imagine

[compassion-of-a-lightner]

I’ve never shared my writing like this before, but I figured since tumblr now hates links I might as well?

This is my fanfiction on Deltarune.

It’s centered around the scene in which Susie rushes into Noelle’s room during the Snowgrave route.

The first and last lines of the piece are what she says directly before and after exiting the room as it's meant to convey that short visit- with creative liberties on the time-scale obviously.

No content warnings

2,845 words

Romance | Hurt/comfort

Exists on Fanfiction dot net and Ao3, links available through my #my work tag, this is a mirror upload.

“Susie’s Ultimate Healing Technique”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself!” Susie growled as she whipped open the door and slammed it between them.

With a huff, she glared behind her before taking a deep breath to center herself.

‘Keep your cool. They can pay later, for whatever the hell their problem is.’

She glanced to her hand as a familiar sensation began to flood past her anger, “Fuck.” she muttered under her breath.

That door had been locked.

‘It’d hurt less to kick it to scrap.’ she grinned as she clenched her fist, looking up to the darkness around her. ‘But then I couldn’t slam it in their stupid faces, heh. Good riddance. Now if they don’t mind, I’ve got to be the hero this time around.’ she thought smugly.

The room lay dim; Most things blur into their surroundings unless you squint through the shade. While trying to discern if any of the shapes were Noelle, Susie felt another familiar sensation.

It was cold.

She exhaled and watched her breath disappear into the darkness before her.

Freezing.

Susie furrowed her brow, this didn’t make sense.

There was no one here. She expected to find the Queen’s minions surrounding Noelle or perhaps an elaborate cage trapping her, instead it was just another simple room.

As the thought left her she spotted exactly what she was looking for shifting just across the room.

In the center of the back wall sat a bed under a windowsill. Curtains drawn allowing the night sky to pour in and providing a means to see part of the room.

Sitting on the bed was a shivering pile of blankets, was it Noelle? Whoever it was sat bundled up, staring out the window.

Susie couldn’t help but smile as she took a step closer only to be interrupted by a quiet demand.

“Leave.” came a cold voice. It seemed to quake in their throat as it came, but it was more than enough to freeze Susie in her boots. It made her feel strange.

Her smile left, replaced with uncertainty and concern.

“I said LEAVE.” The voice shouted, straining itself as a piercing wind carried hail from the voice’s perch towards Susie.

Holding her arms up to shield herself from the sudden cold, Susie played off instinct. “Hey! What the hell!?” she shouted, pulling her axe out of the darkness and striking a menacing stance, “You cold bastard, where’s Noelle? Hand her over!” she snarled, showing her teeth at the opportunity to fight.

The wind billowed frantically before suddenly stopping in its tracks, hail falling to the ground with a shatter.

The figure didn’t move.

Susie stomped her foot as she took a step closer, “Do you HEAR me, asshole? Where is she?!”, her voice carried a threatening hiss.

Silence. A momentary stalemate.

The figure shifted. Susie could just barely make out that they were tightening the blankets around themselves. It was ignoring her. This pissed her off.

Her lips curled back to bare her full toothy maw once more as her patience ran thin.

Her eyes hinged on going fully rabid as she stared through the figure, “What’s wrong? Freeze your mouth shut with that attack?” She slammed the head of her axe into the ground before her and with a sinister snicker she continued, “You know what? I’m actually glad one of you assholes showed up to ambush me. I’ll show you what a real monster looks like in the dark!” she growled as the sound of snapping wood accompanied her axe being pulled out of the flooring.

She took another weighted step closer as she readied her axe for whatever their next attack would be, only to be frozen solid not by the figure’s magic but by the noise they began to hear.

She blunk, dumbfounded, before realization set in.

They were crying. They had always been crying.

Susie dropped her axe which quickly disappeared into the darkness below as she took another step forward, “Noelle?” she called to the figure, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment.

“I, uh, that wasn’t me yelling at you, I uh… So... ice magic, huh?” Susie tried to calm things down after her blunder.

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, idiot, of course she knows magic here, we didn’t exactly knock now did we, of course this happens.’ Her mind raced.

“Susie?” Noelle asked, voice threatening to crack. She fumbled with the blankets and pulled her head out. Her face was drained of color, and her eyes looked tired, even still they widened in surprise when she managed to see her guest.

“You… You shouldn’t see me like this, after all that’s happened… Why are you here?” She was shaking. Something about the question and seeing her like this hurt Susie, it didn’t feel right.

“I’m here for you?” Susie spoke, unable to think as she walked closer and placed a hand on the bedpost. “Why wouldn’t I be? You need help, so uh, here I am. Right?”

‘Is that weird, I made it weird.’

“I mean, unless you don’t… I don’t really see anyone trying to come after you now that I mention it...” Susie was beginning to reconsider barging in.

Noelle furrowed her brow and stared harshly into the pillow beside Susie, deep in thought. “I think I see...” she said as she rubbed the tenderness of her eyes one by one.

The cold seemed to ease as Noelle relaxed ever so slightly out of her stressed headspace; As the room warmed, so did her complexion.

Susie fidgeted with the bedpost waiting on the pondering deer. “And? So are you coming along or?” she couldn’t help but sound concerned at Noelle’s tone.

Noelle didn’t seem to hear her question, instead closing her eyes and nodding hard as if to convince herself of the validity of her own thoughts. Susie raised an eyebrow in confusion as the silence pushed on a moment more.

Noelle opened her eyes with a new look of self-assurance as she confidently locked eyes with Susie.

She smiled, blushing with all the red her body could manage. Susie was mildly taken aback by this change.

“Uh… is something on my face?” Susie asked, a touch embarrassed all of a sudden.

And then, all at once, Noelle grabbed Susie’s hand off the bedpost, pursed her lips, and pulled her as hard as she could towards her.

Noelle clenched her eyes shut in excitement while Susie’s own went hide as she toppled over the side of the bed...

And directly into a painful headbutt as Susie flailed at the surprise attack.

Susie yelped in surprise, frantically rubbing at her nose and blinking away the sting.

“What the hell was that!” Susie yelled, baring her claws as she shouted all while kicking herself back up and out of the bed. Her eyes were watering from the impact which prompted her returning to rubbing her snout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just, I thought it wouldn’t, I thought I would-” Noelle was flustered beyond reason and struggling to collect herself, all while a red mark began to become clear on her forehead.

Susie noticed and quickly pulled her hands from her still sore nose and into her pockets to hide how much that hurt, “It’s fine… just what were you trying to do.” She couldn’t help but stare, “That’s gonna leave a mark you know?”

Noelle stiffened up when she realized she was being stared at and slowly reached a hand up to her forehead before reeling back at the immediate soreness of it, “Ow.” she winced. “That’s not supposed to hurt…”

“How would headbutting someone not hurt?” Susie asked, squinting at her.

“I mean, this is all a dream, it’s not supposed to hurt!” Noelle explained like it was the most obvious thing to her.

“I mean it’s the only way you’d come to rescue me, it’s the only thing that explains this whole weird world… it’s the only thing that explains away…” Noelle frantically explained before cutting herself off, she turned towards the window as she struggled to finish what she sought to say.

Susie looked out the window alongside her. Something seemed wrong. Really wrong. And the fear in her eyes before she turned away stuck in Susie’s mind.

‘I… what do I say?... Maybe.’ Susie begged to understand.

“So… you realized it was a dream and thought you would attack me?” Susie interrupted the newfound silence, still struggling to grasp the fear she’d just caught a glimpse of.

Noelle blushed, “Well, no, I mean, usually when I dream of you it’d go… differently.” her voice became barely a whisper towards the end.

‘She liked that distraction, maybe it’s best she thinks it’s a dre- WAIT WHAT’ Susie blunk again and again as the cogs turned through every doubt she had built up inside. She nervously cleared her throat.

“You… tried to KISS me?!” she shouted in exasperation as she replayed the attempt over and over in her head.

Noelle tossed the blanket back over her head, “SHUT UP. THIS DREAM JUST ISN’T GOING RIGHT IS ALL.”

“You have to tell me, do you usually kiss me? Do you dream of me often? What’s it like?” Susie excitedly asked for details and quickly felt embarrassed as she heard what she was saying.

“No I don’t usually kiss you, are you kidding! But I thought, maybe, I’d try something special this time, to make up for all of this.” Noelle managed from under the blanket.

‘What the hell happened here...’ Susie worried with a sigh. Grabbing the edge of the blanket and softly pulling it off of her, she asked, “So, do you really think the real Susie wouldn’t come for you?”

Noelle gave a pitiful laugh, “You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t. I’m invisible to her. And how do I change that? I’m too scared to try.”

Susie gave a knowing look, “Ah. I see. She, I mean, I scare you.”

Noelle jolted up, “No! I mean, yes, but you’re a good kind of scary. I... like that about you.”

Susie rubbed the back of her head with a mix of disappointment and relief, “I... think I’m flattered?”

“Heh! If only the real Susie felt that way…” Noelle sadly chimed in.

She let out a sigh, and climbed out of bed. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

Susie cocked her head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is all a dream.” She took a deep breath, “That means none of this happened, that’s good. That’s good.” Everything felt a little colder all of a sudden. “But I wanted to make it better. To make something special happen. Something I’d like to remember when I wake up, something to help forget the rest and…” Noelle rubbed her forehead, “That didn’t work.”

She idly kicked her legs off the side of the bed, swaying them forward and back as she stared into the seemingly endless darkness of the floor below, “I think I just tried to push things too fast, even if just in my head... it wasn’t going to work out.”

Susie looked away, “I mean, it’s still your dream. Why not try again?”

Noelle let out a soft giggle before admitting, “Honestly? I’m petrified!” she said rather happily, “I couldn’t possibly!”

“Strange thing to be happy about.” Susie muttered, her disappointment peeking through.

“I mean I want to, but it’s just… it feels nice to be scared of something good for a change.” She more quietly explained.

Susie scratched at her cheek in thought.

“I just… wish this wasn’t so much of a nightmare. That I didn’t leave with so much regret and…so hurt.” Another cold breeze. Susie eyed the window as the pane frosted over.

“I wish more of this dream was like this… good. And with you.” She admitted, a warmth to her sincerity. Susie closed her eyes in thought.

“Noelle?” she offered, causing Noelle to perk up out of curiosity. “Would you tell me what happened tonight if I asked?”

Noelle immediately turned away, Susie following suit, sighing as she idly paced along with her thoughts. “I see.” Susie said, an understanding behind her words as she thought to herself for a moment.

“You’re just a dream.” Noelle said quietly.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to hurt. It doesn’t mean I couldn’t care.” Susie said just as quietly, a bit hurt.

Quiet. Tense, stiff, quiet.

“Maybe.” Noelle whispered. “But…”

“But not now.” Susie finished, prompting Noelle to nod in agreement.

“Maybe.. Maybe I’ll show up in another dream. If that would be better.” Susie continued.

Again, she nodded.

It fell quiet again, but it felt less tense now, if only just.

Susie took a breath. “I’ll make sure you wake up soon.” she said as confidently as she could manage. “I'll take down the Queen and get you out of this dream. You just stay here and rest, okay?” Susie placed her hand on the door and awaited a response.

Noelle locked eyes with her and tried to offer a sincere smile, but the both of them could see straight through it.

Susie took a step closer, and unable to break eye contact, so did Noelle. Once more, and again, until there were no steps to be taken. Susie silently embraced the smaller deer, and held her as tightly as she could manage. She tried to think of something to say, but all that came was the need to show she cared. That it would be okay.

Noelle stiffened at her touch at first, momentarily unsure if this was real or not.

After a moment of accepting Susie’s warmth, she decided that she didn’t care if this was real at the moment.

She murmured quietly into Susie’s arm, “Thank you.” before burying her face into Susie’s chest and squeezing her back as tightly as her shaken body could.

Susie began to idly stroke Noelle’s hair as question after question bombarded her mind. All of them left unanswered as she couldn’t focus on any of them with someone this important in her grasp.

‘Can’t this be real?’ ‘Will she even remember this?’ ‘She likes me?’ ‘Me…?’ ‘She seems so hurt.’ ‘What hurt her?’ ‘I will hurt them.’ ‘It’s going to be okay.’ ‘I’ll make it okay.’ ‘I want to… if there’s anything I can do.’

Before the moment could allow her a moment to think on any of these, she had just one concern playing loudly in her mind.

Noelle began to cry. Buried into her, with shaky breaths, she was crying. Just like when Susie first arrived.

Susie opened her mouth but no words came, again and again, nothing escaped. Uncertain of what to do and glaring into the dark, she did all that was left. She hugged with all her might and let her own tears fall where they may.

They stood like that, as two tearful, caring souls allowing themselves to feel.

Until the tears simply ran out.

Noelle hiccuped into her, causing Susie to give her a light squeeze, and things fell much more quiet.

As the moment hung on its edge Susie took to softly tracing lines along Noelle’s back. Jagged rows, small circles, occasionally a heart which she hoped Noelle didn’t mention.

Her friends were waiting. So was the Queen, the fountain, and a whole world, all waiting on this moment to draw to an end. And Susie decided they could all wait as long as it took.

“Noelle?” Susie whispered as she pushed through her now cracked voice. She ran her hand softly down her back and listened as intently as she could but there was no response beyond her quiet breathing.

She let out a hum as she traced her back once more and got her response as the smaller girl’s arm slowly slid off and to the side.

She had fallen asleep; The day had worn her down and letting it all out had drained the last of her strength. She was out of it, no longer standing at all as she was being held aloft by Susie alone.

Something inside Susie felt at peace knowing this, as she picked the sleeping deer up in her arms and began carrying her to the bed.

Gently, she laid her down and carefully laid the crumpled blanket from the floor over top of her.

Susie looked at her face and saw Noelle the tiredest she’d ever seen her. But she also saw a small, unmistakable smile that told her she’d done well.

“It was just a dream.” she whispered, half hurt that it had to be. “But it mattered to me.” she said with a nod before turning to the door.

She placed a hand on the door, took one last look at the sleeping figure behind her, then took a deep breath to confront her friends.

Remembering herself, she quickly reached up and rubbed her face frantically to hide any sign of what happened, and with all the false vigor she could manage she swung open the door.

“Alright let’s go!”

#Deltarune #Susie deltarune #Noelle deltarune #Noelle Holiday #My posts #My work

[bittywitches]

Hi! Idk if you’ve seen the trend ‘Kissing my Best Friend’ but if you have, can you do one of those with either of the twins? I just love them so much and I’m in my feels🥺😂 thank youuuu💕

Omg I should definitely be working on the meet cute asks rn but god I love this idea so much I had to write it 🥺🥺 thank you for suggesting it b!!

“Fuck.” You paced back in forth in the bathroom, your heart pounding a million times a minute. You never thought you could possibly be this nervous in your entire life, but you were. You kept shaking you hands because of how goddamn sweaty they were.

“Y/N COME ON!” Grayson’s voice boomed from the living room, almost giving you a heart attack.

“GIVE ME A SEC!” you yelled back.

“IF THEY COOL DOWN TOO MUCH THEY WON’T TASTE GOOD!” He was talking about the cookies you guys had made. You’d asked him to come over to bake them so you’d have something to film for the beginning part of your Tik Tok (of course he just thought he had come to hang out), but now you weren’t sure if you were ever gonna get the courage to finish it.

“FUCKING WAIT ONE SECOND!”

“JESUS OKAY!”

You weren’t usually one to yell like that, but god you were so nervous. You buried your face in your hands, rubbing it fast to try and get yourself together.

You never thought you’d ever end up doing something like this. Your feelings for Grayson were always supposed to be a secret. Literally nobody knew, hell you barely knew up until a few years ago. You guys had been friends since Elementary school. Best friends! But dear lord you loved him so much, you just never thought it would ever end up being expressed in one way or another. You didn’t even know how you’d convinced yourself into doing this, it was so unlike you and fuck you couldn’t stop shaking.

You sat down on the toilet seat, bobbing your knees up and down. You were biting your fingernails as you replayed what you planned on doing over and over again. All you had to do was just set the phone down, and then..

“Fuck I can’t do this,” You muttered, then slapped your hand for biting your nails again. You pushed your hair back behind your face, holding your forehead in your hands with your elbows on your knees. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t mess this up. You loved him so much and if you were the reason why you guys couldn’t be friends anymore then-

“Y/N, you good?” You yelped when you heard Grayson’s voice right outside the locked door and the sound of his knuckles knocking on it.

“Jesus fucking CHRIST Grayson!”

“The hell are you doing in there?”

“Taking a shit! Now fuck off!” you yelled.

“Okay, damn!”

The sound of his footsteps walking off made you feel uneasy, and you groaned, racing up to the door and pressing your face to it. “Sorry I yelled!” You called back to him.

“Whatever!”

You pressed your forehead against the cold wood of the door, then banged it on their gently a few times.

“Fuck me.” You walked back to the sink, looking at the mirror. You were wearing a pair of jean shorts and one of Grayson’s sweaters. You were used to wearing his clothes, but now it felt weird considering what you were about to do.

“I literally can’t do this.” You ran your hand up into your hair and gripped your roots, pulling on them gently to try and stop your insanity. “No. I’m gonna do it.” You dragged your hands down to squish your cheeks. “oh god this is going to go so badly.”

You slapped your cheeks, and shook your head. “Okay okay okay…” You brought your hands up in front of your face, and you could literally see your fingers shaking.

“Stop that.” You shook them, then held out your right hand in front of the mirror, trying to steady it, but it literally would not stop shaking.

You slapped your hand again. “You fucking wimp!” Your eyes went to the clock, and you realized you’d been here for almost twenty minutes. It made sense why Grayson was checking up on you.

“Okay. I’m doing it.” You flushed the toilet and washed your hands, briskly walking out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen.

“There you are, did you have diarrhea or something?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up.” You went to the counter, and you stood there with your eyes closed for a few seconds, trying to calm your excessive heartbeat. After that you tried to prop your phone up against the wall, but cursed when it wouldn’t stay up because of your trembling fingers..

“What’re you doing?” Grayson asked, watching you fumble with your phone.

“Gotta record the taste test.” You breathed out, finally getting the phone to stay upright.

“Ahh, right.” He turned back around, probably going to get another cookie.

You breathed out and went to stand beside him.

“Gray.”

He was doing something on his phone while hunched over the kitchen island, not paying any attention to you.

“Grayson.”

“Yea.”

“Gray.”

“Mhm.”

“Gray!” You grabbed his shoulder and shook him, finally getting him to look up.

“What??”

You brought your hands up to his face and pulled him down to yours, your lips meeting with his. You could feel your fingertips pulsing against his skin and you didn’t dare open your eyes because you were so scared of what you’d see.

He lingered there for a second, then immediately pulled back, causing your heart to literally leap into your throat, you were terrified that you might puke it out.

When your eyes jolted up you saw his open wide, a bit of an awestruck expression on his face. “No way,” he muttered.

“What?” Your voice quivered in the middle.

“Don’t play with me like that, Y/N.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why did you do that?”

“What do you mean-”

“WHY did you do that?”

“Grayson what are y-”

“Do you like me?”

“Why the fuck else would I kiss you, dumbass?!” You yelled that last part.

“Shut the fuc-”

“GRAYSON!”

“C’mere you asshole!” He took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. You let all of your stress and fear out as you sighed against his lips, your shoulders falling in relief. You tried to bring your hand up to him, but he pulled away when he felt them quivering against his chest.

“Oh my god are you shaking?” You let out a half-laugh-half-sob as you nodded, your eyes scrunching up causing a few tears to well up in them.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He wrapped his arms around you, and you sank into his warmth, relaxing fully as you laid your head in the crook of his neck, his chin propped on top of it.

“That is the scariest thing I have ever done in my entire life.” You laughed against his chest.

When he felt your arms tremble in his embrace, he kissed the top of your head. “Jesus, you absolute angel.”

You snuck your arms up his chest and around his neck, fully burying your nose into his neck, inhaling his scent to calm you down.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your torso, squeezing you gently. “You are such an asshole.”

You shot your head up. “What? Why?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Excuse you, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t think you-”

“Neither did I!”

“Wait,” He pulled you away from him. “Is that what you were doing in the washroom this whole time.”

“I was fucking nervous!” You laughed, shoving him in the chest.

“Oh my god,” he went to hug you again, but then pulled back just as quickly.

“Is this why you invited me over today? Like as a set up-”

“You don’t have to stop holding me to ask questions.” You reached around him again and pressed yourself into him, and Grayson happily obliged, leaning against the island as you did so.

However, you ended up pulling away, just so you could press your lips quickly to his again. As soon as you did, your face flushed.

“How are you this cute.” Grayson chuckled, leaning his head against yours.

“I’m gonna be so fucking pissed if I wake up right now,” you muttered quietly, and Grayson threw his head back laughing.

“Good thing you recorded it for later.”

“Oh my god shit the camera!” You pulled away from him to race over to the counter and grab your phone.

“There’s something your followers are gonna obsess over for a while.”

You grinned at him as you pressed the button to stop recording.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins concept

[quidfree]

tdbk hurt/comfort?

writing this just made me think about my long-running theory that principal nezu is a mastermind villain who is taking out his grudge on humanity via slowly destroying the next generation of heroes bc how ELSE can you explain the amount of personal injury-lawsuits-that-never-were within UA’s supervision 

anyways i would have made this w shouto injured but i feel like IGFTD already has enough of bakugou babysitting him so *reverse uno*

(definitely not at all thinking abt the latest updates of the manga aha..ha)

it’s hardly the first time shouto has seen bakugou get his ass beat. he doesn’t have midoriya’s abysmal track record, but midoriya mostly destroys himself; bakugou tends to get battered by external forces. now that he’s thinking about it he can’t think of another classmate with worse luck, except maybe mineta, but that’s more punitive justice than anything.

habit is a great deadener, or so he’s read. that may be true on a day-to-day basis, but it does nothing to diminish the gut-punch of worry when bakugou’s explosions stutter to a halt so abruptly that it makes him look up just in time to see him plummeting out of the sky, jagged shard of rock protruding through his chest.

midoriya is yelling from somewhere, panicked cry of ‘kacchan!’ turning into a furious scream midway, and shouto is skating upwards on instinct, ice solidifying beneath his feet, arms extending and pulse thudding with memories of ‘how sad, todoroki shouto’ echoing through his mind. 

not so slow, this time. bakugou knocks right into him, gauntlets and all, heavy enough to knock them both off the ice; it shifts and reforms beneath them as he grapples for a better hold. somewhere above them a berserk midoriya is exploding into green light, blows breaking through the villain’s crumbling shell as the mountainside continues to fall apart; shouto’s hands are slick with what he can only hope is sweat as he rides the ice to safety.

they land roughly between the trees, rumbling from above muffled through the foliage just enough that he can hear bakugou cussing, which he has rarely been so happy to hear. 

“get your damn hands off me, icyhot,” bakugou snaps, as shouto’s heartbeat slows incrementally. when their eyes meet his are uncharacteristically hazy, sweat and grime sticking his hair to his face. 

shouto’s eyes lower, and his gut clenches. 

“stop that,” bakugou demands, as shouto’s ears buzz. the rock has embedded itself in his abdomen, and all around it red is soaking through even the dark materials of his suit, torso slick with blood. 

“bakugou...”

“i’m fine,” bakugou grits out, with unconvincing anger. somewhere distant there is a final sounding boom, and then the ground starts to shake. “worry about the damn- earthquake.”

“shit,” shouto says, under his breath, mind racing. earthquake, and mountain, and- landslide. and bakugou, with a poisoned piece of stone stuck right through him. 

he rises to his knees. when he moves bakugou recoils, smacking his hands away with an alarming lack of violence. 

“bakugou,” shouto says. “i’m not going to leave you behind.”

“worry about your damn self!” bakugou retorts, though his gaze flickers to the mountain above. “you’re not carrying me out of here.”

for a second, panicked frustration overwhelms him; he inhales deeply, stands. 

“fine. come on. get going.”

it’s cruel, really; bakugou’s face twists, and then he’s stumbling to his feet, leaking blood as he does. he barely makes it two steps before he’s swaying violently, face gone sheet-white under the mask. 

silently, shouto hoists an arm under his shoulder. bakugou, jaw clenched tight, looks away. it’s as much of a concession as he’ll get.

ice carries them upwards, over the trees, and he glances backwards to find bakugou’s warnings prescient: the mountain top has deteriorated, great chunks of rock sent spiralling downwards with increasing speed. midoriya and the others are fine, he tells himself. he can’t focus on two things at once.

what he can’t stop himself from focusing on, as they make rapid progress overhead, is the way that bakugou is sagging into his hold, dampness spreading through his suit; the pallor of his cheek and the rasping quality of his breaths. he feels faintly nauseous. 

bakugou isn’t dying. not now. what a stupid, ridiculous way to die this would be- three years into UA, having survived every other ridiculous thing life has thrown their way. dying at the hands of some elemental villain, for the price of diverting his attention from his exhausted classmates. 

fuck, why does this always happen to him? his fingers closing on air as dabi whisks bakugou away- his father in his grip as shigaraki pierces through bakugou right above him- it’s always like this, in his face, like fate derives some personal enjoyment out of his helplessly witnessing bakugou’s near-death experiences. 

he doesn’t realise how tight his grip is getting until bakugou hisses in unwilling pain; he relaxes it a fraction, guilt sickening, as he lowers them towards the rocks. there’s enough height and distance that the landslide won’t reach them- or won’t reach them fast enough to disrupt the process, anyways.

bakugou all-but crumples as soon as they’re on firm ground, folding inwards like a house of cards, and shouto is on his knees besides him instantly, hands fumbling for his medical kit. 

he’s a third year; he shouldn’t be so shaky when it comes to rescues, but his fingers are unsteady. 

“i’m going to have to take that out.”

“rule one of on-site aid,” bakugou rasps. his eyes are half-lidded, torso jerking irregularly as he watches shouto move.

never remove the knife from the stab wound. “i know. but you’ve seen what these rocks do. it’s hurting you worse than the blood loss can.”

“came first on the medical test, but who’s counting,” bakugou mutters. he keeps spasming, face tight with pain, and shouto remembers his brushes with the stone- like having fire ants crawling over your skin, red-hot and vicious. to have that inside of you-

ten minutes, if you’re lucky, aizawa had said. 

“i’m taking it out,” he repeats, redundantly, and wills his hands to stop shaking, ice spreading around the shard as bakugou gasps and flinches. 

“fucking- get off me, you bastard, get-”

he’s freezing around the stone now, forces himself not to react to the wet sounds of ice sliding through blood and organ to wrap itself around the intruding shard. bakugou’s cursing has turned to incoherent noise, and he can’t bring himself to look up, own breathing heavy to his ears as he coils the ice like a hook, tugs softly then harder.

“fuck!” bakugou howls, as he grits his teeth and painstakingly pulls back another fragment; a defensive explosion hits him right in the side, and he pulls too hard on instinct, whole shard yanked free as bakugou screams bloody murder. 

shouto falls back with a piece of rock the size of his forearm in his lap, covered in blood and tissue and ice, almost gets sick at the feel of it. instead he drops it hastily, slams an arm down over the gushing wound as his free hand grabs for the spray. top of the line hero resources; knits any wound back together, hatsume had promised, and why the hell had he trusted hatsume mei of all people with his tech? if this is one of her misses-

he sprays, blood splattering him in the face when he withdraws long enough to do so, and then keeps spraying so violently that his hand cramps, watching tissue knit itself in a disturbing parody of organs as the bleeding slows. 

for a beat he just sits and stares, chest rising and falling. there is still a hole through bakugou, but it’s like it’s been half-sketched in the way it’s supposed to look, veins and muscle and what could be a kidney half-fleshed out within the empty space.

“motherfucker,” bakugou chokes out, tight, and then shoves himself half-upright just in time to throw up off the side of the rock. shouto’s hands have resumed shaking.

bakugou collapses back onto the rock, arms wobbly from the exertion, and for a second he just lies there, shouto’s pulse slowing ever so slightly as he takes in the mess they’re in, blood and guts and ice and some half-mended massacre in bakugou’s abdomen. 

more than ten minutes, though. enough to get actual medical care. that has to be enough. 

“todoroki,” bakugou says. shouto startles, leans over. his gaze is unfocused, hazily attentive.

“am i dying?”

it’s said matter-of-factly; instinctively his stomach turns. 

“no.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i have never lied to you,” shouto retorts, intent. “you’re not dying.”

bakugou looks at him, brow furrowed deeply with effort as he blinks in frustration. can’t quite muster up the energy to concentrate, shouto assumes. it makes him look oddly like his younger self, all screwed up suspicion.

not dying, shouto tells himself, fiercely. not fucking dying. 

he stomps down the emotion, but he’s lost his touch over the past three years because bakugou’s mouth twitches wryly, eyes briefly sharp. 

“’f i’m not dying what’s with that look?”

“what look?”

“the fucking- hero’s crisis. failed rescue.”

“shut up,” shouto says, abruptly harsh. “that’s not- shut up. you’re not dying.”

“feel like shit though,” bakugou mutters, eyes drifting shut again. 

if the roles were reversed bakugou would have said and you look like it too. but he’s not bakugou, even if he is the only other person in the class that’s as poorly equipped to play nurse; he can’t muster the normalcy to banter. he just keeps replaying bakugou’s screaming, eyes caught on the tear-tracks on his cheeks. he hadn’t even noticed him crying during.

help is coming. help has to be coming. bakugou will last until then. but he’d hate for them to find him like this.

of its own volition, his hand retrieves a sanitary wipe from the medikit. then it’s dabbing at bakugou’s face. 

“the fuck are you- get off,” bakugou protests, albeit with more bewilderment than anger. shouto’s hands resolutely do not listen, wiping dutifully ahead, and at some point bakugou gives up, just lies there with confused annoyance in his frown. when his face is clean shouto folds the wipe away, sits back. 

“i’m sorry i made you walk earlier.”

bakugou’s eyes flicker open, slanted red. “’s whatever.”

“it was petty of me,” shouto continues, half a sigh. “i was panicking.”

“yeah, well,” bakugou mumbles. “would have kept bitching if you hadn’t, so. for the best.”

not dying, not dying, not dying. “don’t suddenly become reasonable just because you think you’re on your deathbed.”

“fuck you,” bakugou retorts, managing a snort before it turns into a coughing fit that leaves him curled up and sweating, eyes squeezed tight with pained humiliation. 

if midoriya were here, shouto thinks- but that’s stupid. he and bakugou are friends too, really. have been for much longer than bakugou would admit. he should be able to do something. 

he can’t move him, though. not with the fragile hold hatsume’s gadget has on his internal organs. he’s not exactly going to kiss him better like recovery girl would. and when it comes to conversation, he’s never really had a knack for keeping bakugou placid.

he keeps thinking about all of the times he hadn’t caught him. bakugou out of reach. that sick feeling, worsening every time. 

hesitantly, his hand finds bakugou’s. 

“what the fuck.”

instinct should make him jerk it back, but stubbornness supersedes the urge. he winds their fingers together as bakugou lifts his head to glare at him. 

“get your damn hand off me, half ‘n half.”

“no.”

bakugou tugs, hard and ineffective, falls back with an outraged glower. 

“are you fucking kidding me? what is this, a k-drama?”

“i don’t know what else to do to make you feel better,” shouto retorts, nebulously self-conscious but entirely resolute. “so unless you have any better ideas i’m not letting go.”

“it’d make me feel better if you stopped touching me!” bakugou snaps, coughing. shouto ignores him, runs his thumb over his knuckles, vague sense memories of his mother coming to him as he does. had she held his hands, back then? he thinks maybe. he can’t think where else he’d have picked it up.

bakugou has stopped struggling, but has not died. shouto relaxes a fraction.

holding hands is sort of nice. bakugou’s hand is sweaty, which makes sense, but also very hot, and calloused. after a while he sort of forgets the circumstances, just starts absently playing with it, pressing his fingers into the pads of his hand. he thinks he was right about his mother. he can sort of recall the sensation of her hands in his.

“if i don’t die,” bakugou says, after a minute, sort of resigned sounding, “i’m going to kill you.”

“yeah,” shouto says, squeezing his hand. “sure.”

he wonders if bakugou’s parents held his hand a child. he thinks probably yes. he seems like the type whose parents love him a lot in spite of his attitude. that’s mostly how everyone treats him, in the end.

mitsuki bakugou looks a lot like her son. the last time he saw her she was aggressively ruffling his hair into even greater disarray, voice strident as bakugou yelled back obscenities and made no real effort to displace her.

it must be hard, shouto reflects, for a civilian parent. midoriya’s mother certainly has reason to worry. bakugou’s is probably a close second by now.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“sorry.”

“no you’re not!”

“well, if it bothers you...”

“can you just be a normal damn person for once?”

bakugou hits him when he starts messing with his hair, but he doesn’t let go of his hand. 

(he also doesn’t kill shouto when he’s released from the hospital, but then shouto had sort of expected that.)

#qui ecrit #prompt #tdbk #anon #qui repond #fic #this was so non-sappy sorry anon

[shijiujun]

be your light (and that’s all i want)

Chusheng’s first instinct always is to make sure Lu Yao is safe, even if it means putting himself between danger and his San Tu.

Lu Yao is not happy about having to face the possibility of Chusheng dying so often.

--

For @untamedweiying who asked:  Remember when Chusheng and Lu Yao were being chased by a car through the whole city, and then Chusheng was like "let's greet this motherfuckers" and stepped out, and Lu Yao went like "NO" and wouldn't let him go and legit pictured the scene of Chusheng getting shot by a Gatling gun and being unable to do anything about it . Like the honest concern and the "if you die I have no idea what I would do" in that moment, and then it was ???? Never addressed again?

--

Lu Yao is glad that real life doesn’t imitate movies, because for a moment, he was so sure that men in black with guns would come falling out of the car and shoot at Chusheng and then him. The fear that sank into his bones as the images, ridiculous as they were, played on the insides of his eyeballs, crippled him, and all Lu Yao could do is put his hand over his mouth and gasp as the doors to the other car opened.

Of course, in the end, it turned out to be just Tong Li, Youning’s arch nemesis.

As Chusheng dallies with Tong Li, a stupid, dumb smile on his face, Lu Yao tries to calm his racing heart.

The first thing he thought earlier as the car sped down the streets and then got stuck in this alley, was simply-

What is he going to do if Qiao Chusheng dies?

Lu Yao shudders, then shakes his head and slaps the both of his hands over each side of his cheeks, trying to wake himself up. Maybe he’s just hungry and his brain is malfunctioning. Did he get enough sleep last night? Probably not.

What the hell is wrong with you, a voice in the back of his head chides.

The thought is put out of his head for the rest of the day, especially after the snack he has with Chusheng where they plot to keep their cooperation with Tong Li from Youning.

Hours later in bed, Lu Yao’s mind inevitably returns to the thought of Chusheng dying before him. His hand clench around his pillow tighter, the scene replaying in his head on loop.

If Qiao Chusheng really, if he really left, how would he feel?

Chusheng and Youning are his only friends in Shanghai, and well, of course he doesn’t dislike Youning, even if they banter and fight all the time. Chusheng, however, Lao Qiao?

Lu Yao can’t quite put into words what he feels for the man. Friendship seem like an understatement. Describing them as brothers doesn’t feel right either, because Lu Yao has seen some of the brothers that the man talks about, and Chusheng sure doesn’t treat him the way he treats them.

He only has to ask for Chusheng to give him what he wants. Lu Yao only has to frown, pout or sulk once, and Chusheng will be turning around to ask him what’s wrong. He only has to look at a food stall and Chusheng is there, amused and expectant, knowing exactly what Lu Yao wants to do. The only person who would tell him to go and hide while he deals with danger and threat head on, then coming back to find Lu Yao when it’s safe.

Chusheng is the only person who cares about Lu Yao above himself, in a way that no one has since his mother passed away. The only person who would believe him unconditionally, the thought of Lu Yao betraying him never once coming to mind.

Whatever it is, the last thing Lu Yao wants to ever think about is Chusheng possibly leaving him.

That night, sleep eludes him, the room suddenly too quiet and his body too cold under the covers.

===

And Chusheng keeps doing it.

Before, Lu Yao wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but after that afternoon with the car chase and his overreactive imagination, it’s as if Lu Yao can’t switch his brain off. The moment the situation turns the slightest bit dangerous, that deep-seated fear he usually tries to lock away rears its ugly head, leaving him shaky and paralysed.

It happens every time Chusheng covers him with his body when they’re dealing with a shootout, even though Lu Yao is way taller than him.

The time another gang stupidly ambushed the police station with guns and small bombs, and Chusheng quickly stuffed Lu Yao under his table, the safest location for now, as he ran off with only a gun in his hand. Lu Yao remembers grabbing at Chusheng’s hand as he stood to go.

“Don’t go,” he swallowed with wide eyes, his grip on Chusheng’s wrist unnaturally strong.

Chusheng looked up, no doubt seeing the gunfight and what not outside, and there was no way he wasn’t going to go.

“Be good,” he ended up saying to Lu Yao, patting his hand twice and then shook his grip off easily, running off.

Or that time when they ended up in an abandoned, burning hospital in the hills, and Chusheng pushed Lu Yao and Youning out of the way of a dropping, burning log from the ceiling. That one came really close, and Lu Yao was quiet for a few days after that, even though Chusheng ended up only with a broken collarbone and some mild burns across his chest from where he was pinned under the log.

Every time it happens, the whisper in his head gets louder and louder.

What will you do if he’s gone?

The last straw, Lu Yao thinks, is this.

Chusheng taking the lashes from the whip meant for him, all because Lu Yao cracked a case and they ended up arresting one of the nephews of Du He, a gang leader that has ties to Boss Bai. It doesn’t make sense to Lu Yao at all — his nephew killed eleven women and Lu Yao, together with Chusheng, were just doing their damn job.

“Hand him over to me and you can go, Qiao Si,” the man said earlier.

Lu Yao only hears the ringing in his ears, and someone is shouting — it takes a hand and a cloth smothering his nose and mouth to realize that the person making so much noise was him.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with him,” Chusheng replied with a small little smirk, taking off his jacket, and then his shirt. “He’s working for me. If you’ve got any issues with that, you come for me, not him.”

He knows what Chusheng is going to do, but Chusheng can’t take any more damage. When Du He captured the both of them earlier, Chusheng already took a knife to the abdomen while fighting off the twenty men who came for them.

Panic grips him and Lu Yao lunges forward, but hands grab him and drag him off to the side.

Thirty lashes, all because they were doing their jobs.

“San Tu, it’s alright,” Chusheng reassured him before the first crack of the whip sounded.

It has nothing to do with him, Lu Yao wants to yell, struggling against the arms restraining him, hit me, not him!

By the fifteenth lash, Chusheng keels over from where he’s kneeling, his face pale and blood trickling down from the corner of his mouth.

Lu Yao doesn’t remember feeling this helpless, not since he met Chusheng. Not since his mother passed away, and Lu Yao wept over her grave for days straight.

He shouts again and with the last of his strength, tries to dash ahead, but he doesn’t get far.

He hates Du He, hates the monster of a nephew he has, hates the triads and the underworld and their fucking shite rules, hates that he’s so weak like this, unable to do anything as Chusheng once again protects him, unable to keep Chusheng with him, the man dying because of him-

Before the last crack of the whip, the doors to the manor slam open, and in steps Bai Qili, and Youning. At the sight of Chusheng, Youning’s eyes widen.

It takes only one glance at a bloodied, unconscious Chusheng on the ground for Boss Bai’s eyes to darken.

“You’ve got some balls, touching my son,” the man says evenly, stepping in, his every step measured. “Taking him without my permission and punishing him? What gave you the right?!”

At the anger in the man’s voice, everyone steps back, including the men holding Lu Yao. Their grips loosen just enough for Lu Yao to dart forward, and then he’s free, running towards Chusheng.

“Lao Qiao,” Lu Yao calls, his voice hoarse and trembling as he pulls Chusheng to him. “Lao Qiao, Lao Qiao-“

Youning joins him the next second, tears in her eyes, “Ge, Chusheng-ge-“

She looks up, and her father glances at the three of them for a second, before nodding.

“San Tu, we have to get him to the hospital,” she springs into action quickly. “We have to hurry.”

Everything is a blur next. In fact, Lu Yao isn’t so sure if it’s him that is moving, or if Youning is taking over, because Lu Yao simply cannot- he cannot think. Chusheng’s blood is all over Lu Yao’s sleeves, his shirt, and there’s so much blood. He’s pretty sure some skin has come off. Youning is the one who wraps Chusheng in his shirt and jacket, and then she’s snapping at Lu Yao.

“San Tu! Get it together, I can’t pick him up, you have to carry him for me!”

Lu Yao does as he’s told. He ends up carrying Chusheng in a fireman’s lift, putting him over his shoulder so as not to touch his ruined back, and they pile into one of the cars lined up outside. He barely registers the fact that the Bais have brought at least fifty men with them, including Liu Zi and two older men that Lu Yao vaguely remember Youning and Chusheng calling Lao Er and San shu.

Xiao Qi, the brother next in line after Chusheng, is driving the car.

Lu Yao is so cold, hugging Chusheng to him.

What will you do if he’s gone?

“… why’re you crying,” comes a rasp, cold fingers touching his cheeks, wiping at his tears.

Lu Yao didn’t even realize he was crying. Staring at Chusheng, who’s barely awake and his eyes glassy as they try to focus on him, Lu Yao finds all the words stuck in his throat.

“Ge!” Youning calls in relief, just as Xiao Qi says, “Si-ge!”

“This is nothing,” Chusheng continues. “San Tu ah, don’t worry-“

“Shut up,” Lu Yao says through gritted teeth, his knuckles going white from how hard he’s holding onto Chusheng. “Just shut up.”

It’s just as well that Chusheng slips back into unconsciousness next, because Lu Yao doesn’t know what to say to him. He doesn’t know what he can say without just breaking down in tears.

He can’t take any of this anymore.

===

The second the doctor says that Chusheng is going to live and will be bedridden for at least three weeks, Lu Yao turns on his heels and leaves the hospital.

===

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? What did I do in my previous life to have known you?”

Lu Yao doesn’t respond, huddled on the couch with a blanket wrapped around him, covering his head. A bag of what smells like dumplings is set on the coffee table in front of him, but he doesn’t move.

“Lu Yao! I swear, if you’re not going to eat or talk or move and if you just want to die, then don’t do it in my house and on my couch! I might deal with bodies everyday at the institute, but the last thing I want to do is deal with you!”

He hasn’t moved a lot in the last week.

“Just starve to death, see if I care! When you faint, I’ll just throw you out.”

Lu Yao’s not sure what he wants to do, but staying right here on this couch forever sounds like a good idea.

A loud, aggravated sigh sounds, and then Liu Mo comes into his line of vision. The shorter man drags a chair over and sits opposite Lu Yao on the other side of the table. Despite what he said, Liu Mo unpacks the dumpling soup and noodles, even shifting Lu Yao’s portion closer to him.

After a long moment, bony hands emerge from the abyss that is the thick duvet, and grabs for the soup.

“Lu Yao, what are you thinking?” Liu Mo shakes his head, frowning at him, but the relief at seeing Lu Yao eat is clear in his voice.

“You just turn up at my house with blood all over your shirt and insist you want to stay. And to keep it a secret that you’re here. What the hell happened? I haven’t asked, but this is getting ridiculous. You just hang out on my couch staring into space!”

Now that he thinks about it, it’s a miracle that Liu Mo took him in on such short notice. Lu Yao didn’t really think much when he fled from the hospital — all he knew was that he needed to get out, get away and hide, and he couldn’t do that at home. For a moment he panicked, standing out on the empty streets, wondering where he could go because Chusheng and Youning are his only friends here.

It only occured to him later that he could call either Qian Rui, or Liu Mo. He went with the least likely choice in the end, and when he’s feeling a little better, Lu Yao will remember to thank Liu Mo for letting him stay despite hating him.

Besides, Qian Rui might have called his older sister or father if Lu Yao turned up like this. Lu Yao hasn’t figured out what he wants to do yet, but he’s not about to let Lu Miao or any of his brothers, or even Zhiqing-ge kidnap him home.

Liu Mo’s clothes are terribly tight and short on him, but if it means he’s clean and doesn’t have to move an inch away from the couch, Lu Yao is willing to take it.

No one will find him here. No one will get hurt because of him again.

Chusheng won’t be hurt because of him, not if Lu Yao never turns up in front of him again. This way, Lu Yao doesn’t have to worry about Chusheng dying or leaving him. It’ll hurt like a bitch, but at least Chusheng will be alive, and that’s better than him being dead.

Lu Yao still has no idea what he would ever do without Chusheng. For now, spending his days in one spot, on the couch, seems to be the only option.

“These dumplings are good,” he says, completely ignoring Liu Mo’s question.

“I swear to god, Lu Yao, you little shit-“

===

The next day, Liu Mo turns up with a baguette for brunch. Then for dinner, fish soup that tastes just like the one from the stall opposite the police station.

“This is good,” Lu Yao comments, looking up from his bowl to stare at Liu Mo, “Where did you get this?”

“… some, some lady at the canteen cooked extra and I took some home,” Liu Mo answers, resolutely looking at the shelf behind Lu Yao.

It takes him another three days — another six meals, all his favourites — to realize what’s happening.

Almost finishing the fragrant crispy roasted duck, Lu Yao looks up and stares at Liu Mo for a long, long time. The man fidgets in his chair and Lu Yao almost slaps himself, because how could he have just believed Liu Mo? The man is a terrible liar, he knows this. And yet, Lu Yao easily took his word for it in the past few days.

“You told him?!”

“I didn’t!” Liu Mo rushes to explain, flustered, “I mean, you’re talking about the Bai family and the police, Lu Yao, are you kidding me? He found me a few days ago and said he’d take me to the station for kidnapping if I didn’t tell the truth and- think about it, you came to me and I kindly let you stay and he was going to arrest me! And… and, he just drops off food for you, and gets me to bring it up.”

He.

There’s only one man who knows exactly what he likes to eat. Lu Yao remembers clearly the doctor saying, “Three weeks of bedrest, no moving.”

It’s impossible for Chusheng to still be here considering it’s been an hour since Liu Mo came back with the duck, but Lu Yao wipes his hands on his shirt and leaps to his feet anyway, heading for the door. Nearly falling because his legs haven’t seen much exercise in the past ten days, Lu Yao stumbles all the way until he’s pulling the door open, ready to just run out without his shoes on.

He barely takes one step out before freezing in his footsteps, his breath catching in his throat.

Sitting on the porch, back facing him, is one Qiao Chusheng.

At the sight of him, Lu Yao warms — relief, wonder and affection just surging for the man, but as quickly as the emotions come, anger floods through him even faster. Before he knows what he’s doing, Lu Yao is stomping his way angrily to Chusheng as the man turns around at the noise, a look of surprise on his face.

“Are you dumb?!” Lu Yao seethes, seeing red, “Are you- The doctor said three weeks! Three fucking weeks, and I- I can’t believe you’re out here. Are you kidding me?! Qiao Chusheng, do you think this is a joke? You should be in the hospital-“

“But you’re here,” comes the voice Lu Yao has been dreaming about the past few nights, interrupting him, and he stops. “You’re here, San Tu. Where else would I be?”

A lump forms in his throat.

“You shouldn’t,” Lu Yao shakes his head, all his earlier fury gone, leaving a defeated man in its wake. “You shouldn’t be here. Qiao Chusheng, you should be anywhere but here.”

===

Chusheng gets to his feet gingerly, and it takes him only two steps to reach Lu Yao. His eyes rove over Lu Yao, noting the too-small clothes on him. Irritation gnaws at him, seeing Lu Yao in another man’s clothes, but he pushes that away to note the unkempt hair, the oil stains on Lu Yao’s shirt, the eyebags, and it’s only been a little over a week, but the man looks even skinnier than before.

“I woke up the next day,” he says. “I woke up and you weren’t there. Youning was biting at her nails in worry, because she didn’t know where you went. We didn’t know if you were kidnapped again, or worse. You didn’t take anything with you. It took us a few days to realize that you weren’t kidnapped but left willingly.”

He smiles a little, “I thought you would be at Qian Rui’s. Imagine my surprise when I found you at Liu Mo’s.”

“… if you knew where I was, why didn’t you just come in and see me?” asks Lu Yao, his voice low.

“I figured you left for a reason and I was just waiting for you,” Chusheng exhales hard, nodding. Then he huffs once, chuckling, “Well, I was going to wait only for another day, to be honest. If you weren’t going to do anything by tomorrow dinner I told Youning to get Liu Zi and Ah Dou and drag you home at night.”

When Lu Yao doesn’t respond to that and still refuses to look at him, Chusheng sighs.

“San Tu, you must’ve been scared. I’m sorry, but you’ll always be safe with me. You know that, right? As long as I’m breathing, you will never have to worry. Even if I have to protect you with my own life-“

“I don’t want you to do that!” Lu Yao breathes, incredulous.

“Qiao Chusheng, I don’t want you do that, don’t you get it? Did you hit your head somehow too? I don’t want it! I don’t want you to protect me with your life. I want you to be alive and well, and if that means I have to go, then so be it. You don’t understand, you’re a fucking idiot! What am I supposed to do- what the hell am I supposed to do if you’re gone, do you understand?! Qiao Chusheng, do you understand?”

When he’s done yelling, Chusheng can only stare at Lu Yao, his mouth parted a little, as if saying ‘oh’. Lu Yao rubs at his face with a hand, pressing fingers at his temples.

It dawns on him then, what Lu Yao is doing.

He’s not happy one bit that Lu Yao is obviously so distressed, but Chusheng would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit moved and relieved that Lu Yao is doing this, disappearing on him, yelling at him-

-because he loves him.

Chusheng hears it loud and clear.

“You don’t ever have to think about that,” he says, drawing Lu Yao into his arms, pressing the man’s head into his own shoulder and hugging him tight. “San Tu, it’s impossible for that to happen.”

Hands come up to clutch at the front of his jacket, before a small voice replies, “You don’t know that. So many times. So many times, Lao Qiao. I keep thinking, I can’t sleep, when I think about it, every single time you jump in front of me.”

“I’m going to be wherever you are,” Chusheng swears. “I’m not leaving you behind, no matter where I go. So if this is where you are, it’s where I’ll be.”

They’re just words, and he knows he can’t guarantee it for sure, but Chusheng doesn’t plan on going back on his promise.

“… really?”

“I promise. Now… can we go home? The shirt is a little too short on you, and I think you’ve imposed on Liu Mo enough,” Chusheng sighs, raising an eyebrow at the professor standing at the door to their house, obviously eavesdropping.

At the sound of that, Liu Mo nods fervently, putting his hands together and shaking them at Chusheng, as if begging him to take Lu Yao away.

Chusheng does just that.

===

“You should have told me what you were worrying about.”

The weight of the covers over them a comfort, Lu Yao looks up, peering at Chusheng. They’re sleeping in the same bed for the very first time, but it’s so soft and warm that Lu Yao thinks he is finally, finally able to sleep. Chusheng looks more relaxed too, especially after a home-cooked supper and taking all his pain medication for his still-healing back.

Youning will probably turn up early tomorrow to yell at them both, and unfortunately, this time the both of them deserve it.

“Hmm?”

It’s entirely dark, but Lu Yao can still see Chusheng’s eyes like this, the both of them lying on the same pillow, their noses almost touching.

A hand slips into his between them, and then Lu Yao feels it.

Chusheng’s strong, steady heartbeat through their intertwined hands.

“You can check the next time,” Chusheng smiles. “Whenever you can’t sleep and are worrying about me, all you have to do is reach out for my hand. Just like this.”

“You’re embarrassing,” Lu Yao rolls his eyes, but even in the dark, Chusheng can probably still see the pink on his cheeks.

Chusheng is right, though. The steady beat is just like a lullaby, lulling him to sleep. Lu Yao squeezes Chusheng’s hand tighter and sighs.

Right before he falls asleep, Lu Yao makes the same promise.

I’ll be wherever you are too, no matter where that is.

--

Notes:

*Chusheng is referred to as Qiao Si (乔四) or Qiao Si-ye (乔四爷) or Si-ge (四哥) or Lao Qiao (老乔)

*Qian Rui is Lu Yao's friend, who turns up at the couple's restaurant where Chusheng gifts Lu Yao the watch

*Liu Mo is Lu Yao's arch nemesis that kind of hates him but they used to be friends so you know, it's a love-hate relationship

*Liu Zi is number 6 in the family, Xiao Qi is number 7, and Lao Er is number 2, with San Shu being number 3 in the Bai hierarchy

*I just kind of made up a character for the other gang's leader XD

--

#my roommate is a detective #mriad #mriad prompt #民国奇探 #chuyao #qiao chusheng #lu yao #hahahaha my god #this prompt ran away from me #again #oops #i'm returning to pure fluff after this #i'm a fluff person #i really am #fluff and a lot of literal sleeping together in bed - kind of person

[pretendrocketships]

What Am I Now?

A/N: I suck and so do guys so this has been floating around in my head so lets go 

About: How do you explain a relationship you don’t even understand? The one where being away from each other hurts but staying together isn’t what it used to be. 2.5k, Lil thing, part 2? angst warning 

Song: Falling by Harry Styles

The sun was hot and unforgiving, and the heat did nothing to help your mood. It seemed like everyone was out. People littered the cafes along the sidewalk of the city. Everyone toasting to whatever and laughing about jokes you probably wouldn’t find funny. Scents of pizza and pasta wafted through your nostrils. You swatted at your nose to remove the scent, and lingering flies, from your area. It always seemed like everyone around you was at their best when you were feeling your worst. Isn’t that something? You rounded the corner with a purpose, to get away from everyone who was making you feel more shitty then you felt when you left your house. 

It wasn’t anything particular, just a bad mood. Yup, that was it. Just the wrong day on the wrong side of the bed. That’s all. There was nothing in the world that would make you admit that the headlines kept cycling around your head, that you didn’t skim, but read the full articles. “Harry Styles Seen Sneaking Girl Out Of Bavel Late Last Night,” “Who Could Style’s Girl Be? Here Are Our Guess,” and your favorite “Are You Harry Styles’ New Girl? Take Our Quiz and Find Out!” It was a circle. Headline after headline popped into your head. Snippets of articles flashed before your eyes. They were saying they haven’t seen a girl on his arm since you. They were saying she was the new you. They were saying that she was replacing you. Then, articles stopped mentioning you all together. That hurt. You felt that. 

Another block zoomed by. You wanted to wear yourself out, to the point where your mind could only think about sleep and not stories you’ve read. The run keeps your mind everywhere but where it wants to be. One foot in front of the other. Don’t step on that crack, might break your mother’s back. The beat of this song is really good for keeping my mind off -- fuck. The next half a mile was a constant battle, to turn round and go home, giving up on a weak attempt at a distraction, or to power through and hope the next mile would keep your mind off your thoughts. By the time you reached the next stoplight, you were over it, submitting to your thoughts and turning home. Head down, feet to the floor you flew yourself home, desperate to get back to safe space where you could let yourself feel hurt.

 “I’m allowed to be upset.” You kept mumbling those words over and over to yourself on the way home. “I’m allowed to be hurt and upset.” Tears threatened to fall. You ignored them. “I choose when and how long it takes me to heal.” The bastards fell. Oh like a flood, they fell. ‘No Crying in Public,’ a rule you actually had framed on your wall, was already broken. So, once you locked your door, you let the tears flow as freely as they wanted. For five minutes. Five minutes to mope then get up and go. The little saying seemed even stupider when you were upset, but you needed a reason to stop crying and get up. And that’s what you did, got up, got in the shower, and started the pile of work you’d been avoiding all week. A shower is usually your restart button, but with a desk full of papers that held no meaning, you couldn’t focus. You shook your head, rolled your shoulders and pressed your pen to the paper and attempted to “just get over it” like every friend who offered you unwarranted advice said. If your professors didn’t care about heartbreak, why should you? 

It took a while, an hour and twenty-four minutes to be exact, to get your first assignment done, wandering thoughts occupying most of your time. The stack beside you was still overwhelming, much like your mind at the moment. You wagered a deal with yourself. Ten minutes to think through the situation, then twenty minutes doing work, a back and forth deal that appeased your mind.

No, he technically wasn’t in the wrong because technically he didn’t do anything since you technically aren't together. That was too many technicals. You always thought you were special. Special enough to think the whole “friends to lovers” thing would work out for you and a mildly famous popstar. Fuck, were you wrong. You remember laughing in your kitchen. Sunday morning and teasing him. Calling him “mildly” famous was always your thing. You would grab at his belt buckles and pull him closer, or brush past him to start the Keriug and remind him how much you loved your “mildly famous boyfriend”. Your rationale: making sure his ego didn’t get too big for your shared apartment. A place only you two shared when you were both in the city. He would laugh. A big one. The kind where his eyes were squeezed shut and one, or both, of his large hands were gripping the counter. Soon, he’d be wiping tears from his eyes and pulling you flush against his chest, whispering about how he loved his “little star.” The memory stung, like a fresh paper cut; the moment was small, but the pain mighty.  

This is how your days went, seemingly productive until you got hit with the past. The smallest things could set you back months, stuck seeing a replay of what you thought was the greatest love story ever told. While coming back from grocery shopping, you remembered when you backed into the garage door and left your mark on Harry’s first home with a sizable dent. You told Harry about your accident, nervous as hell, while he doubled over in laughter, wondering how anyone could not forget to open the garage door whilst backing in at 25 miles per hour. You get into your garage and you’re attacked by the memory of Harry yelling up into the house that he found the succulent he’d lost, and that it was in the corner of the garage surrounded by boxes you’d been meaning to go through. He came upstairs, sheepishly holding a very much dead cactus. “Those things are so hard to kill, so tha fact that ‘ve managed to do so, quite impressive on my part, dont’cha think love?” 

As days turned to weeks and weeks to the following weekends, you felt yourself less and less haunted by memories of what used to be. Going out for a run was starting to be just that, a run, not an escape from a mental prison you and your past love created. Things felt right -- 

HARRY STYLES SINGLE. CONFIRMED

This. This is why you hated twitter. Four words threatened to pause your progress. I mean, if this were a movie, he would’ve confirmed this weeks ago. And you would’ve been back together and everything would have been perfect. But this isn’t a movie. You logged out of twitter and deleted the app. You never liked it anyway, so why let it suck you back into a place you just crawled out of on your hands and knees? You can’t lie to yourself and say that he didn’t pop into your head late that night while you were surrounded by pillows on all sides. You weren’t sure if you missed him or the feeling of comfort his arms provided. Did you really need someone or were you just being weak. Did you need someone to hold you at night, or did you just want it. Your heart was racing with the possibility of any of this being your fault. You needed to stop. You needed to sleep. So, you turned on a podcast specifically about sleep and forced your mind to be filled with stories about someone else.

Last night threw you off. You had to admit that. It wasn’t the end of the world, wasn’t the end of weeks of progress, but it just made you realize you needed a schedule. Something to stick to that wouldn’t fail you. Wake up. Work out. Shower. Eat. Work. Free. You needed some freedom to breathe and not follow order, but the repetition kept you sane, kept you going. Wake up. Work out. Shower. Eat. Work. Go Out With Friends. Shower Sleep. Wake up. Work out. Shower. Eat. Work. Drinks with The Girls. Sleepover. Sleep. Wake up. Work out. Shower. Eat. Work. Family Game Night. Dinner. Sleep. Wake up. Work out. -- Answer the Doorbell?

Sticky. Sweaty. Gross. Your run felt good at the time, but left you itching for your shower as soon as you stepped inside. Whatever telemarketer or Jevhovah’s Witness that was at your door was about to get a version of you you didn’t even like. You contemplated just letting them ring the doorbell until they got the hint, but the chimes kept ringing through your house, now following by incessant knocking. You wanted to pick up speed so the noise would stop, but another part of you wanted to walk as slow as possible torture whoever was behind the door.

You should’ve peeped. You shouldn’t have just swung the door open thinking it was someone just trying to take your money or your time. You should’ve listened to every muscle in your body screaming no, because it wasn’t just from the workout. It was your body trying to protect you from someone who was trying to steal your heart. 

“What the fuck.” The words fell from your mouth before you could even register the whole situation. He looks up, hands shoved in his pockets. That sheepishly smile he usually wore was plastered across his face, only this time the corners of his mouth twitched with nerves.

“Hi, (Y/N).” You laughed. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was funny, but it was almost comical how he thought he could come to your house, as if seeing him didn’t make you sick with emotion. You could almost feel his discomfort, or maybe it was yours, who could say.

“So again, why the fuck are you here?” You could feel your stomach bubbling, like a witch’s cauldron. You felt yourself getting red, hot, angry without any way to control it.

“I have three things to tell you, then I’m gone,” he blurted out quickly. Smart boy. You squinted at him, trying to guess what he would say before he could say it, so you could avoid a conversation all together. He sensed your hesitance. “Just hear it from me, I owe you that much.” Did you catch a whiff of Harry admitting his faults without you prompting him? The words were sickenly sweet to your ears. You moved aside, barley, admittedly finding joy in his large frame squeezing into the small entry you provided him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He stepped in and looked around, taking in all the changes since he was last there. Your TV was bigger now, funny considering you always said he was the only reason you used your TV. The couch was pushed up against the back wall, instead of angled facing the tv. You moved around the loveseats. His favorite blue and white bean bag chairs were no longer hidden behind the couch. Harry had a bad habit of sitting too close to the tv, so you bought yourselves bean bag chairs, insisting he didn’t sit on the floor. He saw all the cook books he bought you from every country he visited no longer called the coffee table home, instead you had autobiographies of various artists, world leaders, and celebrities surrounding your candles and coffee mugs. His gaze landed on every single detail that changed since he last called this place home, your voice pulling him out of his trance.

“And you waited so long to come here… why?” Your attitude, the one he learned to love so much was oozing out of every word you spoke. He wished you would just drop the act and open up to him, but he also knows he deserves it. He wants to laugh and see the corners of your mouth twitch up into a smile, but he knows he doesn’t deserve that.

“I don’t know. --” he started.

“No, don’t. Don’t do that!” Your hands were up in the air. You were frustrated. The anger was radiating off you in waves, far enough to reach every part of the house. You knew him. You knew he had an answer he was afraid of saying. You turned to him, your eyes pleading with him to just let you hear the truth.

“I didn’t think you saw them, didn’t think you cared,” he mumbled, playing his favorite game: tracing the patterns on the brown, granite countertop while avoiding the impact of his words.

“You didn’t think I would,” you laughed, bitterly, humourlessly, “didn’t think I would see it?” Your voice got lower, and he got scared. Scared because he knew it meant your anger was not dissipating. You didn’t have to name drop the articles. You both knew what you were talking about, the emotion in your voice making that clear.

“I didn’t think you still kept up with me. I didn’t. . .” His voice trailed off. He didn’t know whether or not he should say it, because if he did, it would make everything he’d felt these past few weeks real. And he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. 

“Didn’t think what.” You whispered this. To be honest, you were tired. You were tired of just how much you cared, tired of what feeling anything for him did to you. To hate him meant you had to harbor all of this anger and remind yourself of everything he did to piss you off. You had to keep that hatred bottled up inside you, shaking up your feelings every now and then so the feeling never died out. To love him? God. To love him you had to reach inside yourself and pull out the months of sheer adoration; the nights in the sheets; the blood, sweat, and tears that went into your most beautiful relationship yet. Everything and anything you felt for him took pieces of your heart you just wanted back. You wanted to feel again, feel anything that didn’t have to do with him. 

“(Y/N)....”

“We have to talk, for real this time.” 

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #fan fic #harry styles drabble #harry styles drabbles #styles #hs

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Three

Words: 4.8K

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, angst

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"Viv?" I barely hear her voice as Tansy gently nudges at my shoulder, worriedly, while I'm staring at the TV after calming down from hyperventilating, my mind starting to collect itself as my sorrow begins turning into pure rage. 

"Vivian." Her voice becomes crystal clear and I'm shoving her away from me, into the floor, as I scream, "don't fucking touch me!" 

"Vivian, I'm sorry!" She pleads. "We couldn't tell you!"

"We?!" I grit out. "Who the hell has known about this?!" 

Her silence is speaking volumes and I roll my jaw, stomping to the door with her crying motivating my anger further. 

I'm banging on Tommy's door, hearing him and Nikki chuckling, and the second the door opens, I'm grabbing the full Jack bottle out of Tommy's hand and throwing it at Nikki. 

"How could you let this happen?!" I shriek at him, tears of anger streaming down my face as I start picking up everything in sight and throw it at Nikki. "What have you done, Nikki?!" 

"What the fuck, Vivian?!" Nikki's yelling back at me as Tommy tries to get me under control, but all I have to say is, "Me, God, and everybody just saw your fiancée brag about getting to marry you," and Tommy's stumbling back in shock, the look on his face is the same as Nikki's and they know they're all fucked. 

"Vivian--" 

I shut Nikki up by throwing a bottle of wine at him, missing him, but it smacks into the screen of the TV, causing a loud banging noise as glass goes everywhere,  before I'm grabbing a stray heel off the floor that one of the groupies left here with Tommy, hurling it at him and it hits him in the face, hard. 

"How could you do this to me?!" I cry out as he starts trying to walk to me, trying to keep his anger low, but I get away from him, throwing a hotel lamp at him, only for it to shatter on the wall behind him. "What did I do to make you hate me so fucking much, Nikki?! To make you pursue another girl--one of my friends--so fucking hard that you propose to her?! Am I just that fucking forgettable?!" I'm throwing dirty dishes Tommy's used tonight, all of them breaking when they miss Nikki by merely centimeters, hitting the wall. 

"Vivian, fuck it off!" He barks and I grab Tommy's switchblade off the nightstand, throwing it next, and it barely misses Nikki's face. 

"I hate you!" I say back. "I fucking hate you!" 

He's pouncing before I can grab anything else, tackling me to the bed, holding at my arms.

"I have done nothing but dedicate the last six years of my life to you, asking you 'how high' every time you have told me to fucking jump, trying to help you the best I could, and trying to keep my shit together for you and this is how you repay me?!" I'm overcome with sadness once more, a wave of sobs drowning me, and I try to get him off of me, hitting at his chest.

"Viv--"

"--How long has this been happening?! How long have you been fucking her?!" 

"Vivian, stop before you get us kicked out." He orders sternly, trying not to raise his voice anymore. 

"I am humiliated!" I wail out, pain threading through every layer of my voice. 

"What the fuck is going on?!" Fred and Doc come in with Tommy, I didn't even notice Tommy had left. 

I take a few breaths, pushing Nikki off of me and he stumbles back after I shriek, "Get away from me!" and sit up on the bed. 

"Vivian--" Doc starts. 

"Shut up! I don't wanna fucking hear another word because it's all fucking bullshit!" I seethe at him. 

"Vivian, we can talk about this calmly, because screaming--" 

"--No! I've had everyone's foot on my throat for the past four years, telling me how to act, how to look, how to make sure he's happy, and it just took less than 45 seconds for her to blow every fucking thing to fucking hell and let me know I did all of it for absolutely nothing!" I say through thick tears, bubbling anger starting to rise within me again.

I'm suddenly lunging and clawing at Nikki's face and neck before I can stop myself.

"Vivian!" Nikki hollers, his face bleeding as he tries to swing at me but Doc blocks him, yelling, "both of you calm the fuck down!" 

I'm starting to breathe quickly, my whole body feeling heavy as Fred and Doc keep us separated.

"How the hell did this happen?" I ask him, more so demand.

"Vivian," Doc says, catching his breath. "We'll talk about it later."

"I just found out…" I can't bring myself to say "my husband's been cheating on me" without feeling like I'm going to vomit. "...and you just wanna talk about it later?" I ask him, appalled and he looks at Nikki. 

"I'm not…" Nikki trails off, shaking his head, looking as if he's about to cry before heading to the door and slamming it shut. 

"Oh, God, please." I beg, holding at my aching chest, my eyes squeezing closed as tears topple down my cheeks. 

"Come with me." I hear Doc lowly say to  Tommy. 

"Viv," Tommy slowly starts and I shake my head at him. 

"You were suppose to protect me." I hold back a sob. "You've always protected me and when I needed you to the most...you  were suppose to protect me and you didn't." I finally muster out and tears break over his lashes.

Before he can say anything, Doc's leading him out of the room, leaving me with Fred. 

"Vivian," Fred says, genuinely concerned. 

"I-I-oh, God." I can't make myself speak, tears and snot running down my face but I don't care, and he nods as I shake my head a little.

He just grabs one of my hands, squeezing it, comfortingly. 

We got kicked out of that hotel and because of my tantrum, we had to pay them back for the broken lamp and TV, but I didn't care. 

 I had done everything. Everything I could, everything I was told to do, and it still wasn't enough. I still wasn't enough. My best still wasn't enough.

I lay on the bathroom floor of our new hotel with the door locked, not crying as extensively as I was, but it's a steady stream of tears puddling on the floor, as everything I overlooked runs through my mind. 

Those nights I'd come home to see Vanity passed out in my house, the way everyone would get a little uncomfortable when she would hint at something and I was the only fucking one that didn't think anything about it...the fucking "V" tattoo on his arm that he played off as a five, when he just as easily at least could've have said it was for "Vivian" or something. Anything. 

"You are the world's biggest fucking idiot." I whisper to myself. "How could you be so stupid?" 

I'm so tired, I've been crying for the past four hours, but anytime I try to sleep I can't. It's not because I'm on the floor and I'm uncomfortable, but because my mind won't quit replaying every scenario there is imaginable of Nikki and Vanity touching each other. 

A one night stand would have been something I'd still be shattered over...but an entire relationship?

I don't even want to know how long it's been happening. 

I just want to sleep. 

"Vivian." I hear Vince say from the other side of the door and I sniffle, not wanting to talk to anyone. "I'm sorry, alright? But what the fuck did you expect? We're rockstars. It's common sense how we live. You should have known Nikki wasn't an exception to that, when you married him." 

"Get out!" I scream at him, getting all the strength in me to open the door and shove at his shoulders to the room door. 

"Vi--"

"--Leave me alone!" I demand, snatching the room key from him before opening the door and pushing him out, slamming it shut, resting my aching forehead against the cool wood. 

I try to take deep breaths to calm down, but I'm unable to. 

I slide down the door, my mind continuing to race.

I couldn't sleep at all.

My eyes, nearly swollen shut from crying for two days, are glued to the screen of the TV set before me, Doc, Fred, Nikki, Tommy, Vince, Mick, Tansy, Sparkie, Donna, Emi, and everyone else at risk of being asked about this shit show by the press, as a recording of Vanity's interview is replayed to us.

"Yeah, I'll be Vanity 6 once again. Isn't that nice?" 

 "I heard that--now, Nikki, uh, he's not ma--"

"--Mötley Crüe." She states what he's known for and cuts Arsenio short. 

"Yeah, I read about Nikki in, uh, Fresh Magazine."

"Oh, no, you've read about him." Vanity says, causing the audience to laugh uncomfortably along with Arsenio. 

"Is he here?" He asks.

"Texas. He's in Texas." She explains. 

"He's in Texas with Mötley Crüe."

"Right." She nods. 

"And they're probably partying with some chicks up in the room." He jokes, trying to carry on as smoothly as possible with this whirlwind she just dropped.

"Oh, I'll kill him." She laughs out. "I'll kill him." 

Again, everyone laughs. 

"When are you getting married?" 

"Oh, probably December, maybe Christmas, maybe New Years, we haven't decided." She replies. 

"Are you--you seem like you're in love, you're very bubbly, you're glowing." Arsenio points out and she nervously rubs her forehead. 

"Oh, I--I know, I feel stupid, I know. I look stupi--"

"--No, no, that's great." He argues politely. "And this ring is something else." He states as he looks at it. "You don't get no crackerjacks with this, I mean that's a nice ring." He chuckles, along with her and the crowd. 

Doc stops it there, anger of the highest degree on his face as he glares at Nikki, who's got his sunglasses on and refuses to even look my way. 

"I told you--" Doc stops talking for a moment, nearly shaking, having to take deep breaths. "--when you got together with that coked out bitch to not be--" he loses it, throwing his bottle of water at the wall, "--fucking messy!" He yells. "We have done everything we could possibly do to help you and what do you do in return? Bend all of us over and just," Doc thrusts his hips forward a few times as if he's screwing a girl, "fuck all of us!" 

Nikki let's out a heavy breath.

"Her sister called last night and that ring she's flashing around, Sixx, is Viv's." Doc states and I feel my bottom lip shake as more tears come to my eyes. "You can't tell me you didn't play a part in this shit. You can't. Vanity's crazy, but she didn't just wake up one day and decide to say she's engaged to you. You helped prompt this. You can't tell me you didn't." He points at Nikki and Nikki sits quietly. "Jesus fuck." Doc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay. This is what we do. I've been on the phone for the past two days with the office, the label, Vanity's people...and everyone agrees that playing this off as a misunderstanding on Vanity's part is the best option." He tells us. "What she said about being engaged to Nikki is-is technically right thanks to his fucking smack and crack binge that lead to that bright fucking idea--but instead of accusing her of lying, we'll say it was a 'misunderstanding'." Doc replies and I squeeze my eyes shut. "It could get ugly for us if you two are at each other's throats over this, publicly, so you two are just gonna have to play nice for the cameras and hash this out behind closed doors." He adds. "Because if we say it was a misunderstanding but you two are having issues, they'll know we're bullshitting."

"What if I want a divorce?" Nikki--Sikki--boldly asks and Doc clenches his jaw while I brush away tears as quickly as possible, playing it off. 

"You can split when this tour is over, that way you can blame it on something other than asking another woman to marry you while you've been married to the girl you've been with since 1981 for four fucking years."

I'm too exhausted to protest the idea of staying with him until the tour ends. 

I just want to go home. 

"So if anybody asks any of you about it 'no comment' the fuck out of them. And if you absolutely have to say something other than 'no comment', you laugh a little bit to make it seem like it's nothing, and tell them--verbatim--'It was a complete misunderstanding.' And if I find out anybody doesn't answer with one of those, word for fucking word, you're done." He threatens in a serious tone. 

I've never seen Doc this mad. 

"Do I make myself clear?" He asks us and everybody nods...except me. "Viv?"

"I want to go home." I tell him. 

"If you go home right now, it'll look like something's up--"

"--Something is up." I let out hoarsely and everyone lets out a sad breath. "I just want to go home for a couple days." I say, my voice cracking.

"Not like it's gonna do you any good to run home. They knew about it, too." Sikki mocks me, referring to Duff and the guys. 

"Dude." Tommy says to him as if wanting him to shut up. 

I just get up and go to walk out of the room, stopping in front of Nikki, getting in his face.

"Burn in hell." I say and he turns his head to look at me, smirking. 

"That's the dream." He replies.

I get out as fast as I can, Fred following after me, and the second I get out, I'm throwing up, hoping nobody in there heard, especially Nikki. I feel like his inner evil fucking psychopath junkie will delight in my discomfort. 

He was angry because I refused to see him after he had tried to get Fred to convince me to speak to him. 

I didn't know what to say to him, and I didn't want to hear anything from him, yet. 

I just needed to get away from him for a few days and think about what I wanted to do. 

Did I want a divorce? Did I want to pack my shit from the house and never go back to him on tour and send him the divorce documents in the mail? Did I want to try to fix things? Did I think things could even be fixed at that point? I didn't know what to do, other than go home.

I finish packing all of stuff into my suitcase as Fred comes in, clearing his throat. 

"Look, I, uh...I talked to Doc. He decided it's a good idea for you to go back home for a couple days and come back with a clear head--well, as clear as it's gonna get." He explains. "But, the Rolling Stone dude is still coming on this week, so Doc wants you gone no longer than three days." He adds.

I completely forgot about Rolling Stone wanting to do a big issue on Mötley Crüe's tour in the midst of everything that's happened recently. 

"Which of course now, they're definitely chomping at the bit to get to nitty-gritty on everything and if you're not here, that's gonna send off some red flags, according to Doc." He explains and I let out a groan. 

"But Doc's currently getting you a flight for this early this evening, and I'll drive you there and we'll get someone to pick you up." 

I don't reply, letting out a breath and he gives me a small smile. 

"It'll be alright, Viv." He assures me. 

"I've been telling myself that since 1981. Nothing's fucking alright."

Going out in public was a mistake from hell.

 Every reporter outside of the airport here is shouting "Vivian" followed by invasive questions about Vanity and Nikki, and I'm happy I have my sunglasses on so they can't see me about to burst into tears. 

"Vivian, are you going home to file for divorce?!"

"Is Nikki and Vanity engaged?!"

"Are you and Nikki divorced without public knowledge?!" 

"Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?!" 

"We were under the impression Vanity was your friend?!" 

"Is this a polygamous relationship?!" 

"Do you have any comments on the recent bombshell about Vanity and Nikki?!" 

"Bless their hearts." I reply with a sarcastic smile, damning Doc's little gag order. 

This causes them to start popping off my questions like a swarm of piranhas.

I'd be hearing about that comment I made, from Doc,  the next day.

I'm praying there isn't a swarm of press outside as I make my way to the front exit of L.A.X., but my prayer is answered, kind of, when I only see Axl waiting for me with Duff's car. 

We don't say anything to each other until we get to the first stop light on the road. 

"It's fucking shitty we didn't tell you--"

"--Axl, I don't wanna hear it."

"No, let me finish." He demands. "Look at me." 

I sigh and glare at him. 

"We wanted to tell you, Viv."

"Then why the hell didn't you?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, matter-of-fact, without a doubt, if one of us came to you and told you Nikki and Vanity were seeing each other, you wouldn't have lost your fuckin' mind?" 

I don't say anything. 

"We've been trying for months to get him to leave her alone, or come clean to you, and he'd just say, 'I'm working on it'. We had no idea they were that fucking deep into it."

I roll my eyes, my eyes blinking back tears.

"I'm being serious--Viv, hey." He says and I look at him. "If we would have known that, that's how you would have found out, we would've told you sooner. I swear to fucking God, Viv, we woulda told you sooner if we knew that's how you would've found out." He promises. 

This is possibly the most sincere I've ever seen Axl.

Which lets me know he's being honest. 

No matter how angry I am at them, they didn't tell me to save my feelings. 

Their intentions were pure, but horribly executed. 

When we get to the Franklin, we walk in to see the guys in the living room of Axl's place, watching cartoons. 

I don't say anything to Izzy, Duff, Steven or Slash, and none of them try to speak to me once Axl gives them the look that says I'm not in the mood to speak about anything. 

"I'm gonna shower." I say, taking myself to the bathroom with my stuff, locking the door behind me.

I shower, then proceed to stay in there, avoiding everybody and everything, until I hear a soft little knock, and Stevie's voice.

"H-hey, Viv? We got some food...if you're hungry, I mean." He says on the other side of the door and I exhale.

"I'm not hungry, Steven." I say, sniffling, wiping tears away that have been flowing since I turned the shower off. 

"Are you gonna stay in there all night?" He asks next.

"It's my business if I do." I snap back and he lets out a breath. 

He doesn't say anything else, I just hear him walk away. 

Steven, as nice as he always has been, had no problem setting someone straight if needed. He was never aggressive with me, because I usually stayed on his good side, but if someone rubbed him the wrong way, he'd get in their face and ask them what the fuck their problem was. I expected him to break into that bathroom and ask me what my problem was, but he knew what my problem was, I guess…

...Izzy on the other hand…

"Izzy, what the hell?!" I yell as the door swings open after he picks the lock. 

"We're fucking pieces of shit and the assholes they come out of, I get that. Axl gets that. Stevie gets that. Duff gets that. Slash gets that. We understand collectively that we are gross for not telling you. But we didn't tell you in hopes your dumb-fuck husband would wise up, like we have all been trying to get him to do, and break things off with the bitch. But he didn't. But we were hoping he would so we wouldn't have to witness your firey wrath sent straight from the gates of fucking hell. But we are anyway, apparently. We tried dropping hints. Countless hints. Obvious hints but you were too busy getting fucked by cupid and having a too perfect view of love to notice. But we tried. Extensively. If we knew she was going to embarrass you like that, we wouldn't  have kept it from you, at all. But it's too fucking late now, and we can't do anything about it except just be here for you, I guess, but you coming home and being a bitch to us for not telling you something that would've been so fucking obvious to you if you would have paid a little more attention, is fucked. Next time we'll just tell you he's fucking one of your best friends and rip the fucking bandaid off." He says to me, stunning me. "Now quit hogging the bathroom because some of us need to use it."

I can usually take Izzy's tough love, but this time, I can't.

"I gave her a key to my house." I say randomly, more tears coming to my eyes. 

"No, no, you're suppose to tell me to go fuck myself." He says. 

"And the codes to our gate and...24/7 access to my husband, and I was too fucking stupid to realize I was just letting her have him anytime she wanted him." I choke out.

The door cracks open a little to reveal Duff behind Izzy, and he cautiously steps to me, hugging me tightly to him.

One thing I was beginning to realize: the first thing I said to Nikki was, "how could you let this happen?"  

 I was beginning to see that it wasn't meant as a "how could you let yourself do this to me?" but as a "how could you let her embarrass me like this?"

I knew something was up, subconsciously, I had this feeling that I knew something but I didn't know what exactly I knew until I was publicly humiliated over it.

I spend the rest of the night not speaking to anyone, not necessarily because I'm still angry, but because I'm just not in a talking mood. 

By the time everyone else is going out, Duff and I are heading back to his place so I can try to sleep. 

"You can have whatever side of the bed you want." He lets out, a little awkwardly being that we haven't spoken all night. 

I nod, going to the side of the bed I slept on the last time I stayed here. 

He looks as if he wants to say something else to me, but chooses not to as I get into bed with him, turning my back to him, hoping to get some form of rest, but even a couple hours later, it never comes. 

I lay next to Duff, his soft snoring sounding through the small room, his bare back to me, and in the lights from the street that are filing through the window, I can see the smattering of acne scars along his back, and I can't stop my hand from reaching out, grazing over them. 

He moves a little in his sleep and I let out a breath, tired of being awake with my own thoughts that are just overflowing with whispers of Nikki. 

I wish I was in bed next to him. 

I wish he never would have done what he did in the first place. 

I wish I wouldn't have been so naive.

I wish I would have listened to my gut before we got married. 

Finally getting tired of it, I pull myself up and stumble to the kitchen, looking around until I find a bottle of NyQuil syrup.

I take the correct dose of it to maybe help me sleep before going back to bed. 

 "Will you quit it?" I grin, chuckling as his lips brush against the space between my shoulder blades as he hovers over me while I'm laying on my stomach at the foot of the bed. "I'm trying to finish this." I add, referring to the blank paper before me and the pen in my hand. 

"You weren't worried about writing it for the past two hours." He teases, peppering my bare back in kisses and I giggle, trying to worm him off of me."You're almost done with school, what's one missing paper gonna hurt?" He questions. 

"It'll hurt when it counts as a chunk of my final grade and I haven't even gotten a thesis statement figured out. And if I when I bring home a crappy final grade, I don't think my mom will appreciate, 'I couldn't do my thesis paper because I was too busy fucking your worst nightmare that I snuck in through my window'."

He lets out a scoff, kissing my skin one last time before I'm turning over to face him, still holding the pen and paper in my hand laying above my head, my other hand tracing over his cheek.

"I can write it." He says after a moment of thinking and I furrow my brows. 

"Write what?" 

"Your paper." 

"You want to write a thesis for paper for twelfth-grade English?" I have to stop myself from laughing.

"Sure." He shrugs. 

"Didn't you drop out of school?" I question and he snatches the pen and paper out of my hand and sits up, grabbing the book I was using as a hard surface to write on. 

"If I can write a song, I can write a thesis paper." He states and I raise my brows. 

"Whatever you say." 

My eyes slowly blink open, and my whole body starts hurting again, gut wrenching pain that's suffocating my heart in a stronghold as my swollen eyes start to weep again. 

"Oh, God, please. Please, God." I beg, trying to be quiet enough not to wake Duff up. I'm not sure what exactly I'm praying for, I just know my spirit is crying out for mercy and relief of any kind. 

He spent a couple days writing that paper, collecting sources and proof to back his thesis statement: 'The way today's christian and conservative groups view and sacrifice secular music genres, specifically rock n' roll, and the artists within those genres, is completely counterproductive of the teachings of who they worship because their approach is judgemental and belligerent.' I just copied it word for word in my handwriting and kept his original work of it which is framed and hanging in our house today.

Those were the main memories that would replay in my dreams: us when we first started fooling around and slowly seeing each other exclusively.

Small little things that just added more reasons to why I was so in love with in to begin with.

Things we completely lost sight of by 1987. 

Those were the ones that would hurt like hell to wake up from.

I'm unable to fall asleep again, so I take another dose of NyQuil, and wait for it to go in effect. 

I fell asleep, but woke up every couple hours, and immediately started crying each time, not forgetting I was heartbroken in the slightest because I'd dream of Nikki. 

I'd just lay there saying, "God, please," not knowing what I was praying for him to do.

And, in a slightly irresponsible and reckless attempt to go back to sleep to stop the pain,  I'd take another dose of NyQuil every time, not thinking anything of it because it was an 'over the counter' drug. After taking four maximum doses of the stuff in a 6 hour period, my body started freaking out.

My heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing trying to compensate for what feels like an inability to get enough air as something in me is telling me to wake Duff up.

"Duff, Duff." I gasp out, shaking at his shoulder and he wakes up, confused, tired eyes looking at me. 

Apparently it just takes one look at me to wake him up fully, because he's sitting up as fast as he can. 

"Something's not right." I say breathlessly. 

"Viv?" He asks, at least I think that's what he says.

His hand suddenly grasps at my wrist, his fingers on my pulse point, and his eyes widen. 

"We gotta get you to a hospital." He replies as calmly as he can, but I can tell he's frantic in his mind. 

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Christmas Love

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Chapter: 3/4

Prompt: It is Christmas Eve and you are at your friend’s celebrating and exchange gifts. You just got out of a relationship and surrounded my couples. Tom Hiddleston is your best friend and long standing crush that you have come to terms with that you will never have. The night isn’t as great as you thought it would be, but then you get an unexpected visitor.

Warning: Low self-esteem, unsupportive friends

Part One   Part Two

“Jake,” (Y/N) fights out. “I need to get back together with Jake.”

             The words roll through Tom’s mind as he tosses and turns in his bed. Outside his room he can hear the faintest sounds coming from the tv. After calming (Y/N) down, Tom convinced her to stay at his place. He told her that he was worried about her being alone, and really needs to sort things out. But he also knew that if (Y/N) was truly serious earlier, he would see (Y/N) less and less until they became perfect strangers.

“I’m sorry I just don’t get why you are still with the guy.” Tom presses. “I get that you’ve known him forever, but I think-“

“What is so wrong with Jake?” (Y/N) huffs crossing her arms while leaning back against Tom’s couch. ”He is really sweet.”

             Tom positions his body closer to (Y/N). She doesn’t move away, but doesn’t move at all. But Tom doesn’t either. Looking into (Y/N)’s shimmering (Y/E/C) orbs, Tom feels an overwhelming pinch of nerves dance through his stomach as his heart starts to race.

             Glancing at her lips Tom thinks of all the times he so badly wanted to kiss her. Anytime (Y/N) would pout trying to playfully get her way. When her bubbly laughter escapes passed with the biggest smile that brightens Tom’s whole day. Any moment of any day he has wanted to kiss her.

             Almost consumed by his pent-up emotions. Tom manages to back away. Settling at a safer distance, Tom clears his throat before continuing.

“I just think you deserve more.”

             Maddened by the memory, Tom throws his covers off his body and heads for the door. Looking over at the couch he finds it empty except for the chaos of blankets. Suddenly a lump forms in Tom’s throat, did she leave without saying goodbye?

             Trudging into the kitchen Tom freezes at the sight of (Y/N) in front of him. Finally exhaling the breath he didn’t know he was holding, Tom fights to keep his composure.

             (Y/N) hasn’t noticed his presence yet. Walking over to the sink next to her, Tom tries not to startle her. But once next to her small frame, Tom finally hears the sniffles coming from (Y/N). Engulfing her in his arms, (Y/N) crumbles into his chest. They stay like this till (Y/N) calms down enough and removes herself from Tom’s arms.

“Jake is coming to get me at about noon tomorrow so we can talk.” Her voice grows tighter with each uttered word.

“Jesus, you were serious?” Tom’s composure begins to fade as anger settles in. “(Y/N) he cheated on you! I don’t care what his reasons are. I don’t care that he felt neglected or second best. He should have talked to you instead of fuck someone else!”

“Shut up!” (Y/N) screams before quieting down. “You have no idea what is going on!”

“Well, it looks like you’re trying to get back with a guy what you don’t love. I know the only reason you are doing it is because your friends prefer him.” Tom watches tears stream down (Y/N)’s cheeks like silent waterfalls. The last thing Tom wants is to upset her but she has to know.

“(Y/N) I’m sorry for yelling.” Tom takes (Y/N)’s hands gently in his and looks down at them. “I just want you to be with someone deserving of you. Someone that makes you happy.”

             Heavy silence falls in the kitchen. Tom’s gaze remains on (Y/N)’s hands. Rubbing circles against her skin Tom attempts to memorize the pattern of it, the length of each finger, that (Y/N) loves her nails painted the shade of red they are now.

“Jake is not a bad guy, Tom.” Her voice shakes. “Maybe he’s the one for me, maybe not. But he is the only guy I know willing to try.”

             Her words sting against every cell in Tom’s body. He can sense that the conversation is over and has to do something. If he doesn’t Tom could lose her, and Tom knows he wouldn’t survive that.

             (Y/N) starts to take a step away from Tom. One hand slips from his grasp. Panic sends Tom’s brain into slow mode as he tries to comprehend. As her last hand makes its way out from his, Tom wakes up.

             Reaching for her hand, his skin meets hers and gives her arm a soft pull towards him. Stumbling into him, Tom can see the shock and confusion displayed by (Y/N)’s wide eyes and knitted brows. Not wasting another moment Tom crashes his lips to (Y/N)’s.

             Responding, Tom feels (Y/N)’s slightly chapped lips dance with his. Tom’s hands gently cup the sides of (Y/N)’s face. Feeling her arms loop around his waist, he is pulled closer to her body. But as soon as the kiss starts, it is over. (Y/N) pulls away but stands firm in place. Catching his breath, Tom tries to figure out what happened.

             Dazed but slowly coming to, Tom feels (Y/N) lean her head against his chest. Something wet glosses over a part of his skin. Realizing they are (Y/N)’s tears, Tom wraps his arms around her once more.

“I know you’re overwhelmed.” Tom whispers sweetly. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. And I didn’t want you leaving before you knew how I care for you.”

 (Y/N)’s POV

             The events of tonight are a whirlwind in your mind as you lay on the sofa in Tom’s apartment. You can still feel the touch of his lips on yours, and you can’t help but smile. Without realizing it fully, you have been waiting for that moment for years and it was everything you imagined.

             A dark solid pit takes place in your stomach, killing any butterflies you have. I have to see Jake tomorrow. Jake is who almost everyone wants you to be with. Almost. You groan at the situation and wished it was more simple.

             You look at your phone for the billionth time that day. Shiloh is in the dressing room trying to find a new outfit for tonight’s party. A party that you have no desire to go to, but being forced to appear anyway. If it wasn’t for your friends and boyfriend, you would never go to parties. Sometimes you wonder if that is exactly what you want. Though, it doesn’t look like you’ll get the chance to find out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try on anything?” Shiloh emerges from the dressing room in the tightest red top you have ever seen. “I think Jake would just die of happiness seeing you in that black cocktail dress out there.”

“I’m fine.” You insist. “I have clothes at home from other parties.”

             The same argument has been on replay since getting to the mall two hours ago. Every time there is a new party you always end up here for any of the girls, mostly Shiloh. You already know what you are going to wear, a short black romper that Jake picked out for you months ago that has quite the neckline.

**

             The music is booming all through the house. You wouldn’t mind if it was music you actually enjoyed, but your music is never played at these gatherings. Rap is not your style but it of course has to be everyone else’s.

             Peering over the crowd you look for Jake. Normally he is with Josh around the drinks in the kitchen. Jake is notorious for drinking way too much at a party, at every party.

             Finding him exactly where you thought, you feel a buzz coming from your small bag. Thinking it was a text you let it go but it continues to vibrate. Excusing yourself to the side, you look to see who is calling you. Tom.

“Hello?” You answer while trying to make an escape to outside.

“Darling!” Tom’s excited voice filters through your ears. “Where are you? It is really loud.”

“Just another party everyone dragged me to.” You huff, imagining what you could be doing right now besides being there. You could be reading, watching a movie, sleeping, or talking to Tom without being worried people will hear.

             You know none of your friends particularly like Tom. The only reason why is because they think he is a threat to your relationship with Jake. You think they need to mind their own business. Tom is your best friend in the whole world, and you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Jake but you’re not a mind reader. If something is bothering him, he needs to come and talk to you and not everyone else.

“So, what’s up? Why’d you call?” Your curiosity gets the best of you.

“I just missed you and wanted to hear your voice.” Tom says, and you can’t help but feel weightless. Tom could literally choose anyone to have in his life and for some strange reason he chose you. You’re definitely not complaining, in fact you are more than grateful.

             Remembering that night, you also remember Jake getting really drunk and insecure about Tom being in your life. Jake has asked for you not to mention Tom while he is around, and you have been doing a great job. Though not long after, Jake asked if there was anything you were hiding about your friendship with Tom. Paranoid that things are happening behind closed doors that you are not mentioning. 

Chapter 4

Taglist: @mishaandthebrits @josis-teacup @lovesmesomehiddles  @kinghiddlestonanddixon  @noambition-blog​ @nightrose64 @neverseenaspaceshipbefore @lysawayne @midnightbarnes @drabby-abby​ @amieleahx​

#Tom Hiddleston #tom Hiddleston x reader #tom Hiddleston christmas #Tom Hiddleston X you #tom Hiddleston fanfic #tom Hiddleston fanfiction #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki x you #thor odinson #marvel #marvel x you #marvel x reader #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #Christmas Love #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers x you #avengers x reader #loki #Tom Hiddleston Fluff #Tom Hiddleston angst

[anika-ann]

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Pt.6

When Tomorrow Comes

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 3530

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

Interrogation went as well as expected. Sacrifices have to be made in the name of love.

Warnings: swearing, violence, fluff... ANGST

Story Masterlist

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When tomorrow comes I'll be on my own Feeling frightened of The things that I don't know When tomorrow comes

(Flashlight)

You sat at your computer, the words swimming in front of your eyes. It had been almost three hours since you had left the interrogation room, but your hands were still shaking slightly.

Michaels’ words were replaying in your head even now as you were writing the report.

He had been right; you didn’t like what you had heard. At all. You had left the interrogation room in hurry, tears piercing your eyes and you had been sure that if Steve hadn’t been so worried about you as you had unsurely made your way through to leave the scary space, he would have broken some bones in the guy.

“I… I can’t talk about it right now, Steve,” you had whispered as he had held you in his tight embrace, embrace that suddenly felt so, so wrong, him offering you comfort and protection. “I’ll… I’ll just write a report, okay? Let— let me…”

It felt like ages ago. You had come to several conclusions since that moment and you hated most of them. But the measures you were about to take when having the one piece of information the others didn’t were necessary. You wrote that down too and stared at the words dully. You always were terrible with words – how were you supposed to be good with them now?

You saved the document and attached it to an e-mail, setting it to be sent at 6 a.m. You breathed in shakily, blinking away your tears. You could do this. You had to do this.

You sneaked into yours and Steve’s room, finding him spread casually on the bed with a book. He glanced up with a hesitant smile – the concerned look in his eyes stung you and you lowered your gaze quickly, which was when you noticed he was holding the book upside down.

You couldn’t help it – you chuckled, your palm covering your mouth, tears almost sprouting from your eyes. God, you were such an emotional wreck if Steve pretending to read to give you space moved you to tears.

“What is it?”

“You’re holding the book wrong side up, Steve,” you noted kindly, seriously feeling like crying. He was trying to act so casual, to give you all you needed, pretending he hadn’t been pacing the whole time you had been writing the report. It caused your heart to ache.

Steve quickly checked, groaning silently as he realised you were right. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I was… you don’t have to tell me. Especially if it’s not something urgent. I wanted to… I didn’t want you to think I’ve been pacing here or something, waiting for the minute you come back to interrogate you,” he babbled adorably and you walked to him slowly, gently taking the book from his hands. His cheeks were flushed as if he realized his mistake all over again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, sitting down on the mattress. He straightened so you would be on the same level. His eyes examined you softly with curiosity held back. He mainly worried about you now. “I’m… not ready to talk about it yet. It’s not urgent, I promise.”

He gave a barely noticeable nod, his gaze never leaving your face. It made you feel so loved and cared for— it was so fucking unfair.

“What do we do now?”

“I take a shower and go to bed with you?” you offered shyly and Steve bit his lip, a pained smile curling it up. He brought his warm palm to your cheek gingerly. You leaned into the gentle touch despite your better judgement, indulging the sensation.

“Of course. What can I do?”

You returned the unsure smile. “Be.”

Your hair was dripping water as you stepped out of the bathroom, finding Steve by the drawer, your fluffiest socks in his hands; they were meant for rainy days and he knew that today you felt like it was pouring. The new rush of affection almost crushed you. Steve was the best man you had ever known. He was so precious, the kind of person who had to be protected at any cost and it sure wasn’t just for his amazing ass.

You smiled at him gratefully, approaching him and taking the socks from his hands.

“I thought that you’d like these-“

You let the item fall to the floor in favour to frame his face with your palms and connected your lips in a needy kiss. He drew in a sharp breath, his hands finding your hips on instinct, but his lips were barely responding.

You frowned, retreating a little. “Steve?”

“I…” he observed your face, scanning it for any hint of what had brought this on, but he seemed perfectly clueless. He was searching for answers you weren’t willing to give him just yet. “Are you sure you want to-“

You looked into his eyes, pleading, repressing the feeling of shame at your actions. “Yes. I need you, Steve. As close as possible. Please.”

His brows furrowed with concern, his eyes gleaming with something sad and genuinely loving at the same time. His fingers traced your cheek with the lightest touch, making your eyes fall shut at the tenderness. Then his lips found yours with the same sentiment, touching you as carefully as if you would break if he pressed even a little stronger.

“You never have to ask for me, Snowflake. You never have to beg,” he whispered to your lips, his breath tickling and caressing yours. “You have me.”

His tone was strange in a way you had never heard before. It wasn’t pity, no, it was… something similar, but nothing that would make you angry – he wasn’t simply pitying you. You were feeling terrible, because you could see how your state was hurting him, but you allowed yourself to be selfish. You felt like a whore, but you didn’t care either.

“I’m here. Always. However you need me,” he continued his declarations, catching the tear that fought its way out with his thumb. “Always. Love you.”

You sunk your lips into his deeper, indulging the feeling of his arm wrapping around waist to pull you closer and you lived for every second of the tender love-making that followed. You didn’t hold back your tears anymore. You allowed them to fall, letting him to drink them in, drowning in the declarations whispered to your ear and written into your skin by his lips. Steve was a generous lover most of the time, but you never felt as adored as that night.

It was as if he knew what you had written into that stupid report and he was begging you to stay. The thought brought fresh tears into your eyes and you let them roll down your face while you plunged back into the most beautiful sensation of being loved.  

────── ·❆· ──────  

Still more than half asleep, Steve quickly reached for his phone to dismiss the alarm set on six a.m. so he wouldn’t disturb your so desperately needed rest – only to realize that the bed beside him was cold and empty. He sighed and ran his hand down his face tiredly.

He had specifically told you to wake him up if you couldn’t sleep, offering you to do whatever you wanted from a late-night training session to watching a movie to just lying together with or without talking. Clearly, you hadn’t listened and sneaked out from his embrace without him noticing it – which meant it had to be when he had been in the deepest sleep, around two a.m.

You probably hadn’t slept at all.

Something clenched his heart painfully. Whatever Michaels had told you, it completely messed you up. You wouldn’t talk to Steve about it, promising to do it later, and you had only written a report, claiming it was easier to write it down first and get your head straight. When you had reached out to him, so vulnerable, basically begging him to make you feel loved, he had been sure his heart had broken a little.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts, pushing himself up to make himself useful and find you. You weren’t in the bathroom, neither in the common room or the kitchen.

“JARVIS? Is Agent Anderson in the gym?” he called out silently, his mind racing.

Where else would you be? Were you with Natasha? Did you go to her and make her your confidant rather than him? He shushed the tiny voice of jealousy at the idea.

“No, she isn’t, Captain Rogers.”

“With Romanoff?”

“Neither, Captain Rogers.”

That surprised him. Sure, the Tower was huge, but there weren’t many places you would go. The roof, perhaps? There was always the possibility of you searching shelter in your old room, but Steve found that unlikely – yet, his next tracks led there. You never spent your time in your room anymore – even when Steve went on a mission without you, you would sleep in his (and yours) bed, claiming that it helped you to fall asleep.

He knocked on your door hesitantly, surprised when it opened for a slit with that action. Something cold crept up his spine, his instinct screaming at him that something was terribly wrong.

“Snowflake?” he called out lowly, preparing himself for a fight if needed. It was highly unlikely someone had broken into the Tower, but stranger things had happened than someone tricking Tony’s security system.

He opened the door fully and the view had knocked the breath out of his lungs. He could have never prepared himself for the sight.

Your wardrobe was wide open, the already lean piles of your clothing left in your room thinning. The drawers were pulled out, a sock or two handing from them as if you had wanted to grab them, but then had changed your mind and carelessly had thrown them back in the last moment. The door to the bathroom was open, but the light was off. Your bed was neatly made, apparently not used in forever.

Steve stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move – or to breathe in.

Had you… had you left somewhere? Without leaving a note? Without telling anyone-

“JARVIS?! Where in Agent Anderson?!” he yelled at the ceiling as if the higher volume would make the AI pay more attention.

“Not it the Tower, Captain Rogers.”

“That is NOT an answer!”

He ran back to his quarters, grabbing his phone to check if he had missed a text or a voicemail. Nothing. His insides twisted with genuine fear.

Where the hell were you?

He dialled your number. It went straight to voice mail.

“Shit!” he cursed, throwing the phone on the bed, deciding to interrogate the AI instead. “JARVIS, when did she leave?”

“Agent Anderson left around four a.m.”

Fucking four a.m. You left in the middle of the night as if you were an alley cat, a burglar. As if you were a— the air was knocked out of his chest for the second time that morning. A villain.

There was no way your departure wasn’t connected to the yesterday’s interrogation; with whatever information you had got out of Michaels yesterday, something that had thrown you off balance so badly.

“Did she say where she’s going or when she would be back?” Steve demanded sharply as he was already making his way down to the interrogation room.

Please, tell me you didn’t do anything stupid like let him go under the false pretence of keeping someone safe, please, tell me you weren’t that naïve to trust that spineless creature.

Steve believed you were smarter than that, but he knew how easily and how strongly emotions could cloud judgement.

“She didn’t, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS replied dutifully.

The ride in the elevator lasted eternity and since Steve was too far from Michaels right now, he decided to take out his frustration on the AI.

“And you didn’t consider her leaving a bit strange?”

“I did, sir. She asked me to deliver you an e-mail at 6:30 a.m.”

“She did WHAT?!” he snapped, wishing he could punch the insane British voice pumping through the walls of the Tower. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea to tell me earlier?! What was in-- I’ll deal with Michaels first, wake up the rest of the team…”

Steve stormed into the cell with a loud bang, not bothering with using the handle – he just crashed into the door with enough force to rip it away from hinges. The loud crash made their prisoner jerk awake.

“The fuck…?” Michaels complained, squinting at the man who disturbed him.

He didn’t get an answer – Steve’s fist collided with his face in one swift movement, sending the man flying off the bed. He rolled over on the floor, disoriented.

“What did you do?!” Steve barked, raising the man by his collar and pressing him onto a wall, stone hard expression on his face. He roamed Michaels figure suspiciously, looking for any hint of what the bastard had told you to drive you away. “What the fuck did you do?!”

Michaels finally woke up fully, staring into Steve’s face. Blood trickled from his nose as it had met with Steve’s knuckles, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all despite the red liquid running into his mouth. His lips slowly spread in a bloody toothy smile.

“What did she do?” he asked pointedly, his grin growing smug at the lightning of rage shooting from Steve’s eyes. He could see the despair in them too and it was the most satisfying thing he had ever seen.

Steve grabbed him tighter and crashed his body against the wall one more time.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Steve strained through his teeth, his free hand balled into fist, ready to strike again.

Recognition flickered through Michaels’ face. He laughed. He laughed fully with his head thrown back as if Steve had just told him the funniest joke he heard in years.

“Oh, this is priceless,” he choked out before he broke into laughter once more. “That’s just golden.”

“WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?!”

“She left, didn’t she?” Michaels chuckled, enjoying the euphoria of victory in his veins as a shot of ecstasy. “She really left.”

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Steve thundered, ignoring the voices and steps he could hear approaching the cell rapidly. He didn’t give a shit. This man knew something. He had told you something he had been sure would make you leave to god knew where.

Steve was glaring at him murderously, his body noticeably shaking with rage. That bastard was even laughing at him.

“Sorry, pal. No idea.”

Steve led with a punch to Michaels’ gut this time, making the man huff and curl up a little – as much as he could curl up when in the air anyway.

“Rogers! What the hell is going on?” Natasha erupted behind him, her arrival barely fazing the captain.

“Oh, he wants to know where his girl-toy left to. But I have no clue.”

“LIAR! What did you tell her?!”

“You know, maybe she just got fed up with fucking a guy who could be her grandpa-“

Steve cut him off by punching his face again and a look that would leave him lying on the floor in a puddle of blood if it could kill. This man had done something to chase you away and no doubt had sent you towards a certain death, Steve was sure of it, and he fucking needed to know what, how, when and why.

And he really needed to smash this man’s skull, but he couldn’t always have what he needed and wanted.

“Steve! What-“ Natasha interjected, yet didn’t make a move to stop him, examining Michaels as well.

“You should have seen her face when I told her the tale.”

“What tale?” Steve growled to his face, wishing to just rip his carotid off with his teeth. He couldn’t tell the difference between fear and anger anymore, the mess of emotions fighting in him and constantly blending from one to another.

“That I took her parents to draw her out,” he explained simply through his bloody smile. Steve was not following – that was nothing new. “I’ve told her earlier I would isolate every single one of you to beat you, thanks to your biggest weakness. I asked her to guess who figured out who you have a soft spot for.”

Steve slammed the body against the wall again, unable to form a word instead of just a random medley of angry syllables.

Steve himself. Whatever you were doing, you believed you were doing it to protect him. Why did he even find it surprising?

At least you got the fact you were his weakness (and strength) right.

“She ran away,” Natasha figured, “but that doesn’t make sense. She must have known you would follow, which would be you doing exactly what he wants.”

Steve’s mind was racing. You… knew that, right? You must have known he would follow— was that what the e-mail JARVIS had mentioned was about? Did you really think some message, probably asking him not to look for you, would stop him from going after you?

“What else did you tell her?” the redhead demanded, speaking to Michaels now since Steve was too stunned to say a word.

“I might have mentioned that I wasn’t truly honest with her before. That we only want to isolate one particular person to replicate the serum.”

Steve’s fist itched as he desired to punch the man again, except if he would, Michaels would probably lose consciousness – and for now, they needed him talking.

So you thought that… what did you think again?

“She’s your biggest weakness. So she removed herself from the equation,” Natasha thought out loud. “You don’t worry about her, you’re less vulnerable.”

“That still doesn’t make any sense!”

“Doesn’t it? I trained her, Steve. Tony has been telling her how his surveillance works. Clint has been sharing tips. She knows how to fall off radar. If she truly disappeared, no one could use her to get to you. According to her, you’re safe.”

Her words felt like a cold fist clenching around Steve’s heart.

Fall off radar. Truly disappeared. Removed from the equation. Removed from his life. He felt tears of helplessness and rage fighting their way out. He pushed them back.

Did you think he couldn’t keep you safe? Did you really think you were protecting him by running away? How? Didn’t you two prove countless times that you were stronger together?  That together, you could take care of each other, look out for each other?

“I think I broke Captain America,” Michaels chuckled and Steve met his eyes, icy daggers in them. It actually made the man wince.

“Why?” Natasha asked coldly, circling Steve and standing by his left side now, staring at the prisoner.

Michaels raised his eyebrow. “Why what?”

“Obviously, you wanted to isolate her.”

Steve’s heart stopped at that exclaim. Natasha was right. The thing Michaels had told you about replicating his serum was an obvious a lie. This was about you. Michaels had been manipulating you so he could get to you – or his allies could.

”But you had that in Pennsylvania as well. Why go through all the trouble?” she pressed.

Michaels eyed her lazily.

“Oh, sweetheart, I knew you would be with her, even as a backup, running after her like sick puppies. She would want you to, she wouldn’t do that alone.  Protecting the man she owed everything though…”

Steve buried his fist in Michaels’ guts again, making him groan.

“Jesus fucking shit, what are you made of, vibranium?”

“Who do you work for? What do you want with her?” Steve hissed into the man’s face and it took all of his strength not to punch that self-appreciative smile off his face.

“What I told her. We want to replicate the serum,” he said smugly, attempting to shrug.

The room fell into stunned silence as everyone’s mind became one huge question mark. How would getting you could help to replicate the super-soldier ser-

Steve’s forearm dug into Michaels’s throat as the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

“Steve!” Natasha hissed, irritated.

“You’re not talking about the super-soldier serum,” Steve stated, his voice as icy as if he had your powers instead of his own. The choir of shocked gasps echoed in the small room as everyone came to the same conclusion.

They weren’t after the serum that had changed Steve. No. They were after the substance that had been created to cure your liver and turned out to do something completely different.

“Course not. Pff. Super-soldiers are so yesterday. The powers your precious Snowflake possesses, on the other hand…”

It wasn’t Steve who placed a perfectly precise blow to break Michaels’ nose for the second time and knocked him unconscious.

It was Natasha smaller fist powered by the rage of a parent or older sibling terrified for her loved one. Steve let the man fall down like a rag doll, his hands still shaking.

“Stop staring, people, we have a stray to find. Move your asses,” the Russian called out, making her way through her friends. Through her family. Her sestra was missing and on a run for her life. They had a lot of work to do.

On the second thought, she should have kicked Michaels in his balls.

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Part 7

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​​, @murdermornings​​, @elisaa-shelby​​ @ask-hellbent-tweek​ @cxptain​, @kallafrench​​, @smilexcaptainx​ @scentedsongrebel​, @orions-nebula​

Thank you for reading! Yeah, I do write angst sometimes too ;)

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #avengers #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #avenger reader #heart too cold but friends of gold #anika ann

[boopie-balloon-lover-com]

Bakugou's Little Sister: Deku x reader

         The sun is shining, birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and Bakugou is ready to kill a man. The halls of UA are unusually quiet with no students roaming after school, not even the teachers are around. It’s odd but who ca- BAM! The front door slammed wide opened and in came a steaming blonde headed boy. With each step he took the ground underneath him rumbled; Steam rose from his calloused hands with a few sparks here and there. If anyone got in his path I’d hate to be them. He continued on his furious rampage all the way to the doors of class 1A. “..I wonder what the test’s gonna be about..” Deku mumbled nonsense under his breath while packing up his copious amounts of journals and school work. He was off in his own little world, making plans to study later on in the day. Deku would never have guessed what was coming his way.

The classroom doors flung open, startling Deku and ending his train of thought. Sweat started to form on his brow as he slowly turned to see who had made such a big entrance. “H-hey Kacchan!” Deku tried to sound cheerful but the murderous look in Bakugou’s eyes didn’t make it easy. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE HUH?” Bakugou stepped closer and slammed his crackling hand on the desk. Deku’s expression blanked as he tried to remember if he did something wrong but nothing came to mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Around this time Izuku wished he had left school earlier. Bakugou cackled while his lips turned up in a dangerous smirk, “Playing innocent is GONNA GET YOU DEAD FASTER.” 

Step by step he backed poor Deku into the wall. “I KNOW YOU LIKE MY SISTER SHITHEAD, I SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT HER. LUCKY FOR YOU I’M GONNA BLAST THAT IDEA RIGHT OUTTA YOUR HEAD! A LOSER LIKE YOU CAN NEVER DATE MY SISTER.” Deku felt his soul leave his body, he thought nobody would ever find out about his secret crush. Thoughts started to race through his mind. Oh God, what if he tells (y/n)? Death sounded pretty nice to him right now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Deku decided to tell a white lie, realizing that Bakugou is only assuming he has a crush. “YOU FUCKING LIAR. I’M GONNA BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT!” Fuming, Kacchan raised his hand as mini explosions started to erupt from them. Just before he got closer a menacing aura filled the room.

"Katsuki, what the fuck are you doing.” Your voice rang clear as the room became so silent you could hear a pin drop. The menacing aura the two boys felt was coming from you. Your bright scarlet eyes gleamed with a dominance that seemed to run in the Bakugou family. Katsuki, your brother, slowly turned around while dropping his hand to his side. “This shithead is pining after you.” He crossed his arms and growled (like the dog he is). Your head cocked to the side as a malicious smile grew on your face. “If he’s pining after me then let him. Stop being an asshole and mind your own business Suki.” Bakugou did not like your response at all. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME (Y/N)? YOU’RE NOT GONNA GO OUT WITH SHITTY DEKU.” You took Bakugou by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close.    

"YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU BIG BABY. IZUKU ISN’T SHITTY, YOU ARE! NOW GO HOME BEFORE I BEAT YOUR FACE IN.” You let go while glaring at him until he broke, mumbling, “Shut the hell up; you don’t tell me what to do. I’m going home.” Bakugou shoved you aside to walk out the door and before he went out the door he glared at Deku. “Don’t touch my fucking sister or I’ll kill you.” And with that Bakuhoe left grumbling to himself. You turned back to Deku from watching your irritating brother leave the room. He looked a bit stunned but only because of how Bakugou didn’t explode when you yelled at him. 

"T-thanks (y/n).” Deku knew he probably could’ve taken care of the situation but honestly he was relieved because dealing with bakugou is a workout. You just nodded your head, cracking your knuckles. The screaming was hard to listen to but something stood out from what you said. “Do you mean that..?” You crossed your arms, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “If you were pinning after me I wouldn’t mind but you aren’t so forget about it!” You grumbled, a light blush appearing on your face. Deku tried to hide the smile that crossed his from seeing your adorable blush. “Just shut up and listen Izu. I came here to talk to you about something important and I’m not saying it twice.”

Deku nodded his head, looking at you attentively. He wondered what you had to say. The blush on your face turned scarlet as you tried to spit out your confession. Your brows furrowed and you stomped your foot on the ground. “IZUKU MIDORIYA I LIKE YOU!" You yelled it, wanting to dig a nice hole to hide in right afterwards. "DON'T FUCKING SAY ANYTHING JUST TAKE THIS." Your face erupted red like a volcano but it wasn't as red as Deku's. He looked like steam was coming out of his ears. You looked at him, flustered beyond belief, as you pulled a pink letter from your pocket. You shoved it forcefully at his chest while looking at the ground. "HERE!"  

Deku could barely function but he managed to grab the letter. He carefully opened it, taking out the handwritten letter from inside. Rubbing his eyes, he began to read.

Dear mop head,

For some crazy reason I've been in love with you for a long time. Your stupid smile makes feel so happy to see it. Fuck what Bakugou says, you're one of the strongest people I know. I'm not really good with words so I'll keep this short. I know you probably like round face so when you're done reading this; hurry up and get it over with. Just know that I'll be here for you even when you're with her. I love you more than all the freckles on you. 

Love,

(Y/n)

The poor boy had to read it twice just to get his brain to register what you wrote. His hands trembled as he put the letter in his pocket for safe keepings. He looked up at you, drinking in the image of you looking like a flustered schoolgirl. "JUST GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY. " You clenched your shaking fists, wanting this whole thing to be over already. Deku took a step forward with subtle confidence. "(Y/n) I love you too." Saying that was like a dream. He replayed how he would confess to you over and over again. it was going to be this elaborate speech of love and devotion but it only took five simple words to get the job done.

You looked up from the floor with a startled expression. The tips of your ears burning as your mouth hung open like a fish. "But you like Uraraka, Kirishima said it himself!" You couldn't bring yourself to believe that he would like you. Not when all the other girls in class 1A were exceptionally better. "Uraraka isn't the girl I've been liking for the past three years." If his face got any redder he would suffer a heat stroke. He hoped to All Might that this wasn't some malicious prank. You opened your mouth but closed it. Your expression was covered by your hair as you stepped towards him.

 Deku thought you were going to kill him from the way you walked closer. What really happened was definitely not what he thought would happen. You shot your hand out to grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer. Your face was beat red, only inches away from his own scarlet face. With a quick tug of his shirt, the gap closed. Your soft, pink lips were on his. It took a few moments for him to realize what was happening but, once he figured it out he returned the kiss happily. It felt like an eternity passed in a couple seconds. 

You pulled back and let go of the shirt, quickly putting your hands behind your back. You twiddled your thumbs while looking down at the floor. If Bakuhoe saw you now he would've laughed right in your face. Deku just stood there for a moment trying to process what happened. After what seemed like forever, he cleared his throat. "(Y/n) will you be my girlfriend..?" His voice wavered at the end but he got his point across. You looked up and stared, "you really mean that? Don't lie to me shitface." Even in moments like these you still managed to call him that.

"I wouldn't lie to you." And with that a smile erupted on your face. "Fine, I'll be your girlfriend but only cause you asked." You grabbed his hand rather gently and intertwined your fingers with his. He smiled cheerfully, still with a massive blush on his face, as you started to pull him out of the classroom. "Where are we going?" He looked a bit confused while you continued down the hall. You didn't answer and it seemed like you weren't ever going to but, you suddenly stopped and turned around with furrowed brows and a big blush. "WE'RE GOING ON A DATE."

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

Originally I was going to add a bonus of Uraraka and Mina betting on if they were going to get together or not. I got lazy and decided not to ✨. Also, sorry about not being able to costumize your character. Since the reader is Bakugou's sister, you gotta have red eyes and blonde hair. (You're not adopted, sorry)

#bnha #izuku mydoria #bakuhoe #fanfiction #dumb #pog champ #deku x reader

[st-fandom-imagines]

A Mistake

Season 3 spoilers ahead and trigger warning for panic attacks!! I hope you like what direction I went with it, I don't think our boy Steve would cheat especially after everything with Nancy happened but this is where my writing took me! I don't think cheating is okay but I do think everyone makes mistakes and there is a line between a mistake and doing something on purpose. The prompt list is here if you need it!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Request- @candycxorn asked: Hey could you do a Steve request with number 27 and like you got into a REALLY big fight (almost to the point of a break up) You can make up what it was about but make it juicyyyyy and then you have a panic attack and Steve just comforts you but you're both still really mad and when he thinks youre asleep he begins to leave and you tell him to stay (if possible could the next day after be really juicy too either fluff of you forgiving him or angst of you splitting) #27-“Please dont leave me.” ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Steve Harrington, the name that held so many different meanings for me, boyfriend, love of my life, cheater, so many great names. I was Steve's rebound after Nancy or so everyone thought, much to everyone's surprise, even my own, we started dating shortly after we started hooking up. Steve hasn't this big bad boy that everyone made him out to be, he was sweet, caring, funny and a really supportive boyfriend, that was until today at least. I heard about the mall going up in flames and raced there as fast as I could only to see Steve in a lip lock with his co-worker Robin. As I ran back in the same direction that I had just come from, I could hear Steve yelling my name behind me. I couldn't help but cry, the guy that was worried about me leaving him was cheating on me, how fucked is that? I asked myself as Steve banged on my car windows, begging me to let him with a black eye and fat lip. I just ignored him, tears falling from my eyes as I sped out of the mall parking lot. "Fucking asshole!" I screamed, banging my hands on my steering wheel, seeing Steve's car pull up behind mine. I didn't want to see him, to look at him, picturing the lip lock over and over in my head. I don't think I've ever driven home faster in my life, Steve hot on my trail the whole way. I through my car in park, getting out and locking it behind me just as Steve got out of his car that was now blocking my car in. "Don't follow me Harrington." I demanded, walking up my driveway to my house, thank god my parents were out of town because if not, they would kill me for the giant screaming match that was going to occur between Steve and I. "Damn right I am following you." He responded as he followed me into my house, shutting the door behind me. I took my purse off my body, throwing it on the couch and paced back and forth, my anxiety bubbling in my stomach. "It wasn't what it looked like." Steve defended making me laugh and nod. "Of course it wasn't, that's always the beginning of the typical cheater speech." I snapped making him take a step closer to me, trying to reach out for me, knowing that if he got to me, I would give into him. "No, Steve, no, don't you get it?! You are always worried about me dumping you like Nancy did, always worried that every guy wants me, always worried that I'm not truthful when I say that I love you, and then you go and kiss the girl that you have been working with all summer!" I yelled, hands shaking and brain scrambled, I could feel myself spiraling, the panic attack on the verge of showing its ugly head. "Everyone warned me, Nancy warned me, all the girls you used and dumped in your past warned me but I was blind. I thought you were different, thought that you loved me, thought that the promise you made me were real but obviously not, god I'm so fucking stupid!" I yelled making him sigh as I ranted, his hands in his already messy hair. "I don't know what happened, okay? Robin told me at the beginning of the summer that she was gay, and I had you, there was no attraction between us, I guess it was just the heat of the moment, us not dying and all." He explained as I began to dry heave, not being able to breath. All of mine and Steve's moments replaying in my head. I felt Steve wrap his hands around me and walk me over to the couch, my panic out weighing my anger. The one thing that I will give Steve is that he knew how to calm me down, even if he was the object of my aggression. I could tell Steve was angry at me, my words cutting through him, as I questioned everything thing he ever said to me and I took others words over his own. My heart beat began to sync up with his as he laid behind me on the couch spooning me. Maybe all teenage love isn't suppose to work out like it does in the movies. “Please don't leave me.” I cried out as I felt him begin to shift away from me. I knew he was mad, just as mad as I was but I didn't care, he was all that I had, cheater or not. ** I woke up to the feeling of a hand rubbing my leg and I shot up from the couch to see a tired and red eyed Steve, he must have been crying too. I rubbed my eyes, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, unsure of what we were after last night. "Since my job burnt down, I have all day to talk if you want to, if not, I get it." He offered making me grown at the headache that was forming, knowing that more yelling would happen today. "Let's start with what the kiss meant?" I asked making him nod, his elbows resting on his knees. "After you fell asleep, I called Robin to explain to her that I didn't have feelings for her and the kiss meant nothing and she agreed. She is gay, 100% and she said she would talk to you about it if it made any difference." He explained making me, his eyes locking with mine, full of emotion and pleading for forgiveness. "I want to forgive you Steve, but once a cheater, always a cheater is replaying in my head." I responded and he took a risk, moving closer to me, taking one of my hands in his before looking at me once again, with tears in his eyes. "Let's start over, get to know each other again. Forget about Nancy, Robin, Billy and everyone who ever doubted us and my love for you. No judgement, just me and you. (Y/N) and Steve, the real me, not the high school dick that you saw last night. We can start fresh, please, I cant loose you." He begged making me take a deep breath before nodding, a single tear sliding down my cheek. "If you ever pull anything like that again, I don't care if you are drunk, drugged, about to die, the only person that gets a free pass you kissing is Dustin, got it?" I joked making him nod rapidly before kissing my forehead. He stood up from the couch, cleared his throat and sticking out a hand for me to shake. "Hello, I'm Steve Harrington, would you like to go out on a date tonight?" He smiled, making me stand up and shake his hand with a nod. Maybe there were too many opinions in a relationship of two but I did believe Steve waned to try again, a clean slate I think is just what we needed.

#stranger things #stranger things season 3 #stranger things season 2 #stranger things season 1 #robin stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff

[twilightbimbo]

Solstice pt. 4: Twilight AU

Solstice is a Twilight AU with my own OC characters. 

Nathalia

I crouched down on a small cluster of boulders. I felt my lips curl back as I narrowed in on my target. A herd of deer, five of them, grazed the forest greenery. I had hoped that I would get over it by now. I hate killing those deer, I feel bad. There. I said it. Also, they taste kinda gross. It’s just not the same. 

With just a  quick leap off the boulder, I launched myself in the direction of the biggest one. My mom used to yell at me so much for how much of a messy eater I was. I guess some things never change. Gross, I know. 

“Oh fucking hell,” I exclaimed. “I just bought this shirt!” I moaned, hitting the palm of my hand against my forehead in frustration. Blood soaked the upper third of the front of my top and splatters dotted my sleeves. I sat on top of the poor dead animal, dabbing the front of my shirt in vain. I finally gave up and rested my head in my hands, my elbows firmly planted on my knees. 

I felt exhausted. Mentally, of course. Physically? I felt like I could demolish a tank. I had talked to more people in the past thirty six hours than I had in months. 

Suddenly, I heard the soft crunch of a leaf being stepped on in the distance. I stood silently, appraising my early morning breakfast. If my heavy-footed friend was a human, maybe a fisher or hunter, they couldn’t find this deer and get suspicious. I kneeled quickly and made the wound look more animalistic, more feral. It wasn’t hard to do since my messiness helped me in the beginning. 

Curiosity got the best of me, I wanted to see who intruded on my introspective wallowing. I climbed up the nearest fir, finding the best branch with a view that also allowed me coverage. I became still as a statue. 

While the sounds of the footsteps sounded closer, they also sounded lighter. Maybe my friend slipped earlier? I listened carefully as faint grey-green light began to leak through the crowded forest ceiling as I waited. 

Rigor mortis started to set in on the poor animal when the footsteps became loud enough for a human to hear. I craned my neck a bit further to the west, the direction the person was coming from. In one lithe and dramatic jump over the boulders, my guest was directly under the tree I perched on. This was no human. 

The vampire was definitely a woman, she was short but I couldn’t see much else as she wore a long and black hooded cloak. She hesitated by my kill, briefly analyzing it before moving on. I could tell it distracted her, she must be curious about what, or who did that. 

My chest tightened and a phantom feeling of my heart pounding ached deeply. Her vampire scent wasn’t familiar to me, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t recognize mine. There was no way I was followed all the way out to Brookings, much less this deep into the forest. My mind raced as I replayed all my movements over the course of the late night into the early morning. I was certain that I was alone the whole time. 

So who was this visitor? This area of the woods was too far away for humans to be wandering into, so it wasn’t ideal hunting grounds. Maybe they are hiding a body. I’ve stumbled across quite a few discarded meals with the iconic two point bite mark. 

I waited patiently for a long time before even considering relaxing my posture. The sunlight faded as the cloud cover settled deeply into the sky. When the stranger’s scent finally dissipated and I was positive that only the scattering of birds was my only company, I made my way down the fir tree and started to make my way back to town. 

The brief encounter with the other vampire never quite left my mind but I focused on making my new apartment my own as the days of the weekend slowly melted together and passed me by. 

My animal based diet gave me golden eyes when my thirst was down. They looked a bit unusual but allowed me to blend in with the humans. Thanks to my gift, the local coffee shop was hiring. I didn’t need a job but I thought having a job gave me a better chance at blending in. And, it gave me something to do. When I was in high school, and a human, I was a barista. I saved up quite a bit and put it in a bank, my parents prided themselves in teaching me finical responsibility. It gave me a bit of comfort that they had inherited my pocket change when I went missing and eventually declared dead. 

I missed my little sister the most. She’s only fourteen months younger than me and everyone would mistake us for twins. We had the same green-blue eyes and messy dirty blonde hair, but she kept hers way nicer than mine. She was driven, determined, and was wildly competitive. She thought she was stuck in my shadow. I always knew that Margot would do a million times better than me in life. I was right. It’s probably the hardest thing to do every day to not check in on her. 

I wasn’t too close to my mom. She’s too much like me. We’re stubborn, opinionated. We would argue all day and night, but I knew she loved me fiercely. Fierce is a good word to describe Josie. She was the CEO of a record label, climbing her way to the top and taking about every man down along her way, my father one of them. My dad liked that she was in charge and bossed him around. My mom was lean and slender, with a mildly obnoxious boob job. Margot and I got our hair from her, but my mom chemically treated it to be straight. Vanity is a deadly disease in Southern California. 

My parent’s marriage is rocky, to say the least. They took “breaks” often. When I was thirteen I thought they were about to actually divorce but after sticking my sister and me with an au pair for a nearly two months long trip to some private island off of the coast of Mexico things settled down for a couple of years. I never asked what they did down there. 

Beau, my dad, was about twenty one years my mom’s senior. “Spineless bastard,” My mom often muttered behind his back. My dad was quiet and an avid believer in red wine. He spent more time in his cellar and vineyards than he ever did with us, which I didn’t mind. It was pretty obvious that it bothered Margot but she wasn’t one to talk about her feelings. It was a family trait. It’s not like my dad didn’t love my sister and me or anything, in fact in some ways I felt more loved by him than my mom. He just did it in his own way, like making sure my favorite snacks were always stocked or carrying my sister to bed when she stayed up too late studying. 

I wouldn’t call us a happy family, but we were family. I miss them. It made me sad to think about what they about me since my disappearance was framed as drug-related. I try not to fixate on that, though.

I was weirdly excited to go back to school. But, I was also scared. What if I couldn’t control my thirst? What would they say happened on the news? “Crazed teen ruthlessly murders entire class, more at eleven”?

I want to stay. I want a home. I decided I was going to feed as much as possible before my first class. I wanted to be so full that the smell of humans would be overwhelmed. But that could never happen, not for a vampire.  Satisfying our thirst was our number one priority, always. I’ve heard that some very, very old vampires don’t have the same obsession anymore but I find that unlikely.   

My thirst was the first thing I noticed when I came to. My transformation was painful. It felt like I was set on fire and every pore on my skin had a sharp needle stuck through it. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. It didn’t help that I didn't know where I was when I woke up. 

I shook my head rapidly, almost like I was trying to physically get those thoughts out of my head. I was nearly done re-furnishing and decorating my apartment. The large windows were shielded by blackout curtains with delicate lace accents weaved into it. I kept things minimal as possible, light, and beach-y. I updated the furniture to the twenty-first century and hung the one personal item I owned, a photo of my family. The one thing that I probably had too much of was plants. Something had to be alive around here. 

Samson 

“Are you sure it’s one of us?” I asked again, two days later after Stella announced her discovery. 

“I’m not a dumbass, Sam” Stella snapped. Stella hates when vampires roll into town. We all do. They usually fuck things up and leave us to clean up the bloody mess. Literally. “Also, shouldn’t you be able to tell?” She pointed out. 

It was true, if she was lying I would know it. But, it’s still shocking. We haven’t encountered a nomad in the three years we have lived in this town. When we lived east of Seattle it wasn’t surprising to get four or five nomads a year.

Suddenly, a wave of calm washed over the room. I could see my siblings relax, Esther’s eyes drooped, the new trashy book she was way too invested in relaxing slightly in her hands. If she was a human, she would pass out on the spot. 

“No fair, Sun,” Stella rolled her eyes. 

“This was supposed to be a nice family game night, you kids are ruining it by getting worked up,” Sunny said sternly.  

“You shouldn’t forcibly quiet us,” Stella retorted. Stella hated being told what to do. Sometimes I’m shocked she even chooses to live with us. 

“I didn’t shut you up, I wish I could!” Sun said, chuckling to herself and patting me on my head. “I just calmed you down, you all are children,” 

We sat around the “dinner” table, Sunny at the head with me sitting on her right. The mahogany table was oval shaped with an ornate red and tablecloth runner. Stella sat facing Sunny on the other side of the table glaring at Sunny with hands folded neatly in front of her and her hair braided and resting on her shoulder. Everett sat on Stella’s left staring intensely at her, most likely talking to her in his own complicated gift’s language. Chip and Esther sat together, Esther perched on his lap, engrossed in her book and Chip absentmindedly played with her hair. 

The stars shined brightly tonight and despite the thick coverage from the forest encasing our home, the moonlight lit up the dining room. Our entire south facing wall was a glass with a view of the Rogue River snaking around our home. I paid little attention to Sunny and Stella’s bickering, focusing on the light bouncing off the crystals of the chandelier which reflected rainbows on the walls, reminding me of my skin in the sunlight.  

“Sam, what do you think?” Sunny asked, nudging my elbow. I cocked my head to the side and gave her a funny look. 

“Huh?” I said quickly and then went over the conversation the family carried on that I barely processed while I was zoning out. “Oh, I don’t know about hunting this vampire down,” I shrugged. “I don’t really see the point in doing that, they might just be passing through,” I continued. 

“If they were just passing through Sam,” Stella said sharply, she hated when I challenged her gift. “I wouldn’t feel their presence anymore,” She finished bitterly. 

I rolled my eyes at her and started to fiddle with the dice that came with the game. “Give them a chance Stells,” I mumbled under my breath, knowing that would just piss her off more. She narrowed her eyes and chucked her phone at me which bounced off my head and landed on the hardwood floor, surprisingly not breaking. 

“I do think it would be best if we got the upper hand on our visitor,” Chip said quietly without interrupting his focus on Esther and her hair. 

“What if they are cool?” I asked jokingly. 

“When are nomads ever not a pain in the ass?” Esther teased, poking fun at Chip who is our newest addition to the family. Chip was a nomad for roughly a hundred years. 

“That is a good point, Esther,” Sunny said, her face soft and thoughtful. “It’s worth looking into who this nomad is,” 

“I’ll round up the search party!” I exclaimed, standing up and slapping the table in excitement. 

“We are the search party, dumbass,” Stella huffed in exasperation. 

Esther

My family decided to waste their evening arguing about the newcomer and then later doing a run around the perimeter of the town, coming up empty-handed. Stella, Everett, and Sunny returned solemnly, a bit defeated early in the morning. Sam was oddly excited to plan another search. 

“Should we go again tonight?” Sam asked, about bouncing on his feet. 

“Let’s wait until their scent leaves a trail,” Sun said, her decision final. While they were chasing down a ghost, I got ready for my first day of school. My seventy-sixth first day of school. 

Thanks to an old friend in Seattle, all of us had forged official documents so no one questioned us enrolling. In my human life, I was Esther Rosenburg. After joining the coven, all of us took the surname King, except for Stella and Everett who kept Stella’s last name Hayes. Samson, Chip, and I typically went to high school while Stella and Everett did community college. This time around, I switched it up and did community college with Chip while the rest abandoned education. 

“Let’s take a first day of school picture of y’all,” Sam said chortling, slapping Chip on the back. 

“Yay!” I exclaimed gleefully. Stella rolled her eyes, yet again, at us but still helped set up the camera to take a tasteful photo of Chip and I standing in front of the spiral staircase. Chip wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and kissed the top of my head. I looked up at him smiling and I heard the lens of the camera shutter. 

“Beautiful,” Sunny said, looking over Stella’s shoulder at the digital screen of the camera. 

“Thanks, Mom,” I grinned at her. Chip laughed quietly and squeezed me tighter. 

“Shall we?” He said, taking my hand lightly. I stood up on the tips of my toes, kissing his cheek. 

“We shall,” I whispered. In the human blink of an eye, I flashed to the side table by the door and grabbed the keys of my black Volvo. 

“Be careful,” Sun warned, both of blending in and the possible threat of the vampire in town. 

Our home was on the outskirts of town, tucked deeply in the forest. Chip drove us to school, following the winding road. Trees crowded the sides of the road with fog clinging to the asphalt. Chip and I listened half-heartedly to the morning news by the local public that droned on quietly from the car radio in the background, but nothing disturbing happened to indicate that the nomad vampire was active. 

Chip kissed the back of my hand that he was holding as we pulled into the parking lot of Brookings Community College. I looked into Chip’s red eyes and kissed him. When I pulled away, his eyes were brown and I knew mine would be the same color, even though I could pass with my golden eyes. 

“Master illusionist,” I smirked. 

“You know it, baby,” He winked in response. He got out of the car and walked leisurely around to my door, opening it for me. 

We only had two classes today, Introduction to Marine Biology and World History. History is one of my favorite courses, it’s fun to see how wrong textbooks get it. Chip grabbed my hand and we walked to the light blue science building, weaving between the humans hurrying to their classes. 

As we walked into the classroom, Chip immediately stiffened and pushed me back half a step as he let out a low snarl that only I could hear. My jaw dropped as my eyes landed on a girl with dirty blonde hair and golden eyes whipped around to stare at us, her mouth shaped in a small “o” of surprise. 

Previous Chapter

#solstice #twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #Twilight FanFic #twilight renaissance #edward cullen #bella swan #alice cullen #jasper hale #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #esme cullen #carlisle cullen

[moxmoxmoxley]

Unhinged: Part 1

Unhinged:Part 1

Jon Moxley x Reader

Rating: M

AN: This is my first ever fan fiction/smut series. Feedback appreciated! Apologize for any typos, not great a proofreading!

It's a Tuesday evening. Work was exhausting, I'm ready to go home and take off my pants and settle in for the night. But here I'm are at this terrible dive bar downtown. My friends pleaded for me to come out for just one drink. So here I am.

"So what have you guys been up to?" I ask the group.

"Oh you know just planning our wedding! That consumes most of our time at this point. I can't believe it's only 6 months away." my friend replies.

The rest of the group chimes in "I know! I can't wait!"

"Me neither!"

The conversation continues and it's getting harder to hear. There's a loud and ROWDY group of men across the bar, hollering at each other and slamming down pints.

I shoot a gaze their direction, acknowledging them, silently judging their questionable behavior. But it is a bar.

"So, how are things with you?" my friends ask.

"Great! I'm working hard, hoping to get promoted in the next few months."

They drone on, discussing their careers, but I can't seem to stop staring over at the group of men across the way.

It looks like they all just got done working out. Clothes as casual, their skin with a slight glisten that can only be attributed to sweat.

I finally zone back in on the conversation.

"I'm hoping to take vacation soon" I chime in. "I'd like to get away for a while you know."

We're discussing different destinations when seemingly out of nowhere, one of the men from the group brushes past me, and lightly smacks my ass as he heads toward the back door.

I let out a shocked gasp. "Did that just happen"?"

Just as shocked as you are, all the girls confirm. "Pretty sure it did."

I turn to head that way before the bartender can stop me, "Do you need me to get security?"

"No, I'll be fine." I say as I head toward the back door down a dark hallway.

I start to wonder if I should have followed as I open the door.

The alley is empty. A single overhead street light illuminates the ground and some trash cans.

I turn my head and he emerges, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Ahhh, I just knew you would follow me." He sneers. "You ladies can never resist."

"Excuse me? Who are you?" I growl back, trying to open the door back up.

"You don't know who I am? You really don't know who I am?"

"Ummm no. I don't and I don't think I want to." pulling the door behind me.

He laughs, and before I know it, he's got one arm on either side of me, locking me between him and the wall. He's wearing a black vest, unbuttoned with nothing underneath and some tight, black pants. Honestly, in any other scenario, this would be a dream.

"Jon Moxley? Doesn't ring a bell?"

"No it doesn't" I say as I try to shimmy past his arm, but he meets my every move.

"Huh well if that ain't new. Well, I'm a wrestler. A pretty damn good one and pretty well known one at that." He looks me up and down.

I roll my eyes incessantly. "I've never watched wrestling, and I'm not interested in starting now." I try my best to move quicker to get past him, but still he matches each move.

He snickers "I bet you'd watch me wrestle, and I bet you'd love it."

"What makes you say that?"

He stares at me, a mischievous grin rolls across his face. " I saw you staring at me from across the way. I figured you knew who I was and couldn't believe that Mox himself was in the same place as you."

I will admit. I was staring. Something drew me to him and I couldn't quite figure out what. He was attractive. Something about him hollering across the bar was oddly arousing.

Snickering with sarcasm back at him, "Well, there were no intentions there. Hard not to stare a group of men yelling and making  themselves known. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back inside."

He still has me locked between him and the wall. "But so soon, we only just got to know each other."

"Yep, sorry." I finally duck under his arm and start heading for the entrance around the building.

He looks a little disappointed. It seemed like he wanted me to know who he was. What was he expecting when I came out here? 

"Wait" he trails behind me.

I turn around, and that mischievous grin still prominently on his face. I've never seen anything like it.

"I'm in town for a show tomorrow. Why don't you come out? I'll wager by the end of the night, I'll have made a wrestling fan out of you."

I contemplate the offer. "No thanks."

I make my way down the alley and right before I turn the corner, he jogs past me and firmly smacks my ass one more time.

This wasn't like the one in the bar. I felt his fingers grip my cheek tightly. That was a smack with intentions and a smack that left me wanting more.

I let out an annoyed gasp and he turns around and gives me a wink.

He disappears into the crowd outside the entrance and I make my way back inside to meet back up with my friends.

I should be deeply offended by that entire interaction. But I'm not. I find it oddly exciting.

"Should I go tomorrow? Where would this show even be?" I think to myself.

"He'll forget about me tomorrow. Better not worry about it."

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, I wake up to my usual 7:30am alarm, and grab my phone to shut the ringer off.

A few typical notification came across overnight but one in particular stands out.

"All Elite Wrestling Invites You" read the subject line.

"What is All Elite Wrestling?" I say out loud.

I open the email to read further. "Enclosed are your two all access passes to tonight’s taping of All Elite Wrestling at X Arena. Valet parking is included and you are welcome to enter the backstage area no later than 4pm."

I've never been to a wrestling show. I don't even know what All Elite Wrestling is. But I know someone who does. A close friend of mine, Jake, loves wrestling. Maybe he will want to go? I quickly scroll through my contacts to find him. Sleepily waiting for him to answer, I can't help but wonder why I got this email. Surely the rude man from last night didn't arrange for this. How would he have known who I was? I never told him my name. I never gave him any information.

"Hello?" groans the voice on the other line, clearly woken up by the call.

"Hey do you know what All Elite Wrestling is?" I ask him, sitting up in my bed trying to find my glasses.

His voice perks up a little. "Yea, AEW! That show is in town tonight. I have some tickets! Why?"

"Well I just got an e-mail with two all access passes for the thing tonight. Do you want to go with me? I don't know anything about wrestling, maybe you can explain everything to me."

You can hear the surprise in his voice, "How the FUCK did you get all access passes?!"

Should I tell him about the interaction? No, I better not. I'll sound crazy if the man I met last night wasn't who he said he was. 

"I don't know, I guess it was some social media promotion. You know we run those all the time at work. It says we'll be welcome backstage no later than 4pm. Can you swing that?"

"Yea I can swing that!" he says, practically screaming. "I'll swing by your place and pick you up."

"Oh great, it says valet parking is included so it should be a breeze."

"Amazing. I'll give you some summaries of what's going on with all the wrestlers and send you some matches. This is going to be so much fun. I'll see you tonight!" He hangs up.

______________________________________

I can't focus. I'm sitting at my desk at work, e-mails piled up, but my mind is racing. Why were these sent to me? I'm reading through all the summaries Jake has sent me this morning, trying to understand who all these people are.

I hear my phone ding. The text reads "Here's the main event tonight. It's a title match so it's going to be exciting. Jon Moxley will be defending his AEW World Championship. His matches are always top tier. Here's the match where he won the title."

Chills run down my spine as I open the video to watch. Sure enough, the man walking through the crowd to the ring in this video is the man who had me cornered last night. I'd recognize that grin anywhere. It never left my head from the night before.

I watch the video. Moxley throwing the other man across the ring. Taking hits and stumbling around. I am into this. This might turn me into a wrestling fan. Honestly, I'd give anything to see that dumb grin over and over, even if it meant watching wrestling to catch it.

How am I supposed to focus on work now? There is no way this is a coincidence. He had to have had those tickets sent to me somehow.

I replay the match two more times. Studying his moves, finding that grin, and basking in his celebration after slinging that title over his shoulder.

I end up taking a half day and head home early. I just can't think. I guess I also need to get ready. If it really was him who sent these tickets to me, I probably need to look like someone a wrestling superstar would send tickets to.

___________________________________________________

My heart is pounding. Why am I nervous about going to a wrestling show? This is so stupid. I am thinking way too far into this.

3:30 rolls around and I hear a few beeps outside my apartment building. I quickly run down stairs and climb into my Jake’s car. "Let's go!" I eagerly say as I buckle my seat belt.

We roll up to the arena and Jake follows all the signs for valet parking. We roll up and I show the man working the email. I was half expecting us to be turned away, but to my surprise, we were not. We got out of the vehicle and were escorted into the building, given laminate passes to keep on our person.

"This is incredible." he looks at me so excited.

"Yea, it is something else. Hey I watched that match with that Moxley guy. It was really neat."

"Mox is unreal. That will be the best match tonight. Do you think we'll see him back here?"

"Oh uh, I'm not sure. Do we even have somewhere to watch? Or do we stay back here the whole time?"

We find someone backstage and show them our passes and are led back to the area where the wrestlers are stretching and getting warmed up for the night. Jake is LOSING IT. He is in awe being backstage seeing all his favorite performers.

It's about 10 minutes til showtime and we're lead back to a standing area backstage, right behind some of the seats near the ramp.

"You guys can watch here if you want. Feel free to come back stage at any time, just stay clear of the wrestlers and camera crew. They shouldn't be in your way." the staff says

"Thank you!" Jake and I both excitedly yelp back.

The show starts and there's pyro, fireworks, the whole nine yards. This is truly a spectacle. The show starts with a very large man in very tight bottoms, talking into the mic.

"This is called a promo. He'll talk for a little bit and someone will come out and stop it, maybe fight. This is  someone Moxley has been feuding with, so he may come out early." Jake leans over and explains.

Sure enough, 10 minutes into the show, he comes out, runs into the ring and challenges the guy in the ring to a title match.

They exchange a few choice words before they cut to commercial and both men head backstage. As Moxley heads up the ramp, he sees me from across the crowd, we're the only two people standing up in the back.

There it is. That fucking grin. He flashes that same mischievous grin from the night before, points at me, and gives me a wink.

Jake looks at me, completely stunned. " Did he just wink at you?!"

I stumble over my words for a minute, trying to explain the encounter from the night before.

His jaw is slacked, truly in disbelief at what I just told him. "You didn't think to tell me this?!"

"It sounds insane! I didn't want you to think I was crazy!"

"Oh my god. Well he winked at you. That was at YOU."

The show continues. There's so much show left and I can't focus on a single match. I'm waiting for him to come out for his match. I've obviously come here for him, I wouldn't be here otherwise. That's hard to admit to myself. I have no idea who this man is but he's invaded my headspace and consuming every waking thought I have.

_________________

It's down to the last half hour of showtime. His challenger comes down the ramp first, entering the ring, jumping around waiting for Mox to come out.

I don't know what to expect when he comes down to the ring. I know he's aggressive, borderline insane in the ring, willing to put his body through hell for the sake of a match, based on what I've seen. I find it arousing.

His music starts and he emerges from the other side of the arena through the crowd, the title belt sparkling in the lights. The grin is gone and is replaced with a menacing face of anger, lips pursed, forehead wrinkled. He comes down through the crowd and within no time, strips the belt off of him and starts laying punches into his challenger. Hit after hit, the next one worse than the first.

I'm entranced. I've never enjoyed wrestling but watching him take a beating and give an even worse one is awakening a feeling inside of me that I have never experienced before. The crowd is yelling and chanting, but I feel like I can't hear a thing. It feels as if I'm the only one watching as he leaps from the top rope and lays waste to his opponent.

I don't what this means. I don't know what any of this means. I'm hooked. Not to wrestling, but to Jon Moxley.

______________________

The match is nearly over. Both men exhausted, bruised, and dripping with sweat. Mox lays his finishing move on his opponent.

"That's the paradigm shift. It's over, it's fucking over!" Jake yelps. I forgot he was there, I was so transfixed on the match.

And the count. "1, 2, 3!" and the crowd explodes chanting for Mox. Myself included. I'm hollering just like he was last night in the bar.

Mox lifts his title up in the air, giving that shit eating grin a flash to all sides of the arena and the show ends. The ref and his opponent make their way up the ramp and backstage while Mox stays in the ring, basking in the crowd cheers and banging his hands on his chest.

The lights start to go up and the crowd is dispersing out of the arena as Mox makes his way back up the ramp.

"That was fucking incredible." Jake says excitedly. "Should we go back there? Maybe he's waiting for you." he nudges my arm with a sarcastic grin.

"He's not waiting for me." I bark back, but questioning if that was truthful or not. "But we should go back there. We probably need to be back there for the valet."

We make our way backstage. It seems like there's more people now running around cleaning up. Most of the performers are back in their own private dressing rooms recuperating from their matches.

We make our way toward what looks like an exit when we hear a deep growl from behind us. "Sooooooo, did I win our little wager?"

Mox.

I turn around, entirely unprepared for the sight of him.

He's drenched in sweat. The subtle color of bruising on his shoulder from a kick he sustained in the ring and his title belt slung over his shoulder. That grin. The one that never evaded my head, plastered across his face.

"What wager?" I stumble through my words.

"You don't remember? I bet that I'd make you loooove wrestling if you watched me." in a deafening tone.

"Oh, she loved it. She was yelling and having a great time. What a great fucking match, man." Jake chimes in.

I shoot him a look. A look that can only say "what the fuck have you done?" as I hit his arm.

"Oh she did, did she?!" He shoots me a look, his teeth grinding together.

"So what if I did? It's entertainment right?" I bark back, trying desperately to win this exchange.

"Well that just means I won our little wager. So why we don't we discuss the details of my winnings." he shoots a sinister grin.

I panic. I can't let him take me this easy.

"I'll go get our car from valet and let you two hash that out" Jake says, turning around before I could shake my head subtly no in his direction.

He disappears and I'm left standing face to face with Jon Moxley. It again feels like I'm the only one here but we're surrounded by backstage staff, running back and forth.

"Follow me" he orders through that grin.

Reluctantly I follow. There's a tension between the two of us. The tension you feel when two magnets are about to connect. It's palpable. My chest is vibrating from my heart beating twice the normal rate.

He stops in front of a door after about a two minute walk through the back of the arena. He opens the door and I follow behind not knowing what's about to come next.

"So, you enjoyed Jon Moxley wrestle, just like I thought you would." he says as he grabs a towel from a table and pats down his face.

"It was entertaining. That's what this is, right? Sports entertainment?" I say nervously.

He shoots that grin my way, slowing making his way back toward me, the towel still in hand. "You just can't let me win, huh? Why so hard to get?"

I'm out of excuses but I find one anyway. "Let's not forget our first interaction was you rudely grabbing me and then very cockily explaining who you were. I don't want to let you win."

He inches toward me. His eyes piercing, the grin even more prominent. He knows he's about to win.

I inch backward, only to be stopped by the cold wall behind me.

Just like the night before, he now has me locked between him and the wall. Both his arms fencing me in. Heat is radiating off of him.

"I think you want me to win." his voice raspy.

I'm not going to be able to take much more of this. The tension is too much.

"What exactly are you trying to win?" I say back, almost a whisper.

He looks me up and down. Sweat is still dripping down his chest.

"You" he says aggressively and grabs my face with one hand and my ass with another. His thumb digging into my cheek and his fingers pressing against my jaw.

I let out a yelp and my eyes widen, his hand tracing up my ass and hip. I'm weak.

"Are you going to give me what I want?" He stares.

I don't know what to do. Words are escaping me. I want him to take me right now but I also don't want this cocky asshole to win. I don't want him to feel like he's won.

But, I'm powerless.

In the weakest voice imaginable, I mutter out, "yes" and the second the word leaves my mouth, he puts both hands around my thighs and lifts me up into the air with ease, slamming my back against the wall.

His lips haven't met mine yet. Any and all romance one would expect is not present. This is primal. This is sadistic.

And I love it.

His teeth grind against my collarbone as he presses me harder into the wall. His lips wet and tracing my shoulders.

I'm so firmly pressed against the wall with his body that he's able to free one hand and climb up my shirt, his rough hands dragging across my stomach and up to my chest. He firmly squeezes my breast and moans as he continues marking across my shoulder.

I am in complete ecstasy. My hands wandering his back and gripping his neck tighter with each bite.

Desperately, I try and reach down and feel him, aching to grip his cock through his pants.

Before I can reach, his free hand grabs my wrist, and he lifts his head up and laughs. "I knew you couldn't resist me."

I just stare back, the want prominent in my eyes, practically begging him to take me.

"You know what? You played so hard to get. You didn't want me to win." he says, practically cutting a promo.

"As much as I want to win, my biggest prize is doing the same to you." he lets me down and his hands leave my body.

He menacingly corners me against the wall again, both arms caging me. I'm unable to speak.

"So, we're done here. I'm going to make you wait. You want this cock so bad, I am going to make you wait for it. Because that's what happens when you're a brat." He laughs every word.

I'm stunned. I can't blame him. I did play hard to get. I didn’t want to give up so easily.

"I've got another match across the country in two weeks. On a Saturday. Why don't you make the trip? I'll make sure you can see the match." He smirks, knowing I'm going to say yes.

"Okay", I manage to mutter out.

"Good girl" he breathes into my face, "I'll see you then."

He opens the door to his left and as I turn to leave, he firmly smacks my ass one last time, winking at me as I turn to scold him.

But I can't. I can't say anything. I'm speechless. I'm breathless.

The door shuts behind me and I feel like I'm about to fall to the ground. My legs are weak, I'm short of breath, and my body still feels that tension.

I make my way toward the back to leave and mutter to myself "I have to figure out how the fuck to get to that match."

Part 2

#fanfic #fanfiction #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #smut #jon moxley #jon moxley smut #jon moxley fan fic #jon moxley x reader #aew fic #aew smut

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~When Love & Hate Collide -- Ch.1~

Moodboard made by myself @badwolf-in-the-impala. I do not own or take credit for any photos used. 

Edit to add: So I’m a ditz and forgot to change the ‘82 to ‘81, after doing the research and realizing that Crüe was touring in Canada in ‘82...and I had wanted this to start this off before they got actively into touring and became a huge deal...So keeping it in ’81 when they were just getting popular and shit...So yeah, thanks for coming to my TED talk on why I’m an idiot lol enjoy!  

A/N: So this is by no means going to be perfect, I’m sure...I’ve already re-written it twice, cause I’m a nitpick **insert nervous laughter here** But this is based off the movie ((The Dirt)) version of the band. Iwan!Mick needs more love/appreciation! Anywho, I hope you guys like it. 

Pairings: Iwan Rheon!Mick Mars x OC ((Faceclaim - Alison Mosshart))

Rating: Mature/18+

Chapter Warnings: Language, smoking, mentions of drug use, implied abuse...

Word Count: 5,267

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

Summer - 1981

Roxanna Hale traveled South, down I-5 to West Hollywood, CA, from Seattle WA. The old 1969 -- Black with White racing stripes -- Chevelle SS that she drove, rumbled along loudly, headlights illuminating the dark stretch of blacktop as Dawn slowly began to break and light the sky. The muscle car blowing around another line of cars with ease, the windows down and rock music blaring from the speakers as she fought to keep herself awake, lighting what felt like her hundredth cigarette.

She exhaled a cloud of smoke from the long drag she took, letting it trail from her red lips slowly as her thumb flicked against the filter, ashing it out the open window. The nicotine did little to quell the anger that still surged through every fiber of her body, as she sped towards her destination.

The last thing she had expected to happen when she woke up yesterday morning, was to walk in on her ex screwing some other chicks brains out...The fact that chick had turned out to be her best friend, and fellow band mate, only added insult to injury. Leading Roxxy to pack all of her shit -- music material and demo included -- before taking off for good; the incident occurring at a less than convenient time.

They had been scheduled, for today as a matter of fact, to audition for a spot as ‘Opening Act’ for another, more well known, band that was getting ready to kick off a tour. Nothing huge, but it was a long awaited opportunity that Roxxy had been waiting on for a very long time. She had headed over to the apartment where her -- now -- ex finance lived to start packing up their gear in preparation for the 18 hr drive to California, they had ahead of them when she walked in on the situation in question.

“C’mon, Baby!” Her ex begged as she continued shoving what she could fit into her backpack. “It- It was just an accident. I swear!” He added, still clinging to the sheet wrapped around his waist as he took a step back; Roxxy rounding on him.

“So what? You just like slipped and accidentally landed with your dick in her vagina?! Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” She nearly screamed, getting in his face. Roxxy’s anger only worsening as she watched him stutter over his words, trying to come up with some bullshit way to justify what he had done, but it was far too late for that as Roxxy cut him off before he could even finish. “I’m not a fucking moron, Kyle!

“Please, Baby, don’t do this! Not now, not with the audition tomorrow!”

“Yeah? Well maybe you should’ve thought that over better before you stuck your cock in my best fucking friend, the lead goddamn singer of MY band!” Roxxy seethed as she slung the backpack over her shoulder and picked up her guitar case as she turned for the door; stopping abruptly as Kyle grabbed her roughly by the upper arm and tried to drag her back. “Let go of me!” She rounded on him as she yanked her arm free, more than a little caught off guard by the sting of his hand as it connected with the right side of her face.

“You don’t get to fuckin’ talk too me like that, bitch--” Kyle had started but was cut off by the cold laugh that fell from Roxxy’s lips as she sneered up at him, wiping at the small trickle of blood from her lower lip with the back of her hand.

“Why, because you think you’re somebody fucking important now? Newsflash, you better think again, Baby.” Roxxy replied, making sure to emphasise the sarcasm in her voice as she called him ‘Baby’. “Because I built this, all of it!” She gestured around his living room at all the band equipment and gear laying around. “You, and this fucking shithole of a band, are nothing without me. So, you know, have fun playing dive bars and garage gigs for the rest of your life. ‘Cause I’m out!”

~

Her blood boiled as the memory of the argument replayed over and over in her mind. She had spent the last three and half years busting her ass for that band; HER band -- working two jobs and pinching pennies just to be able to play shitty dive bars and even shittier backyard parties, on the weekends.

Roxxy had been through hell and back, bending herself over backwards nearly her whole entire miserable, fucking life to try and achieve her dreams; and just when they were about to finally get their break...The whole fucking world comes crashing down on her. Just like it always does.

Now here she was, right back at square one with no money, no band, and the fucking audition of a lifetime that was now hanging in the balance...And as if her life couldn’t get any worse, what ever higher power that had been shitting on her life, apparently decided that now was the perfect moment for her car to blow a head gasket; still some 20-30 miles outside of her destination.   

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Roxxy whined as she hit her hazard lights and coasted the car off onto the shoulder of the road before cutting the engine and popping the hood as she bailed out to take a look. Waving her hand in front of her face with a cough as she lifted the hood and a cloud of white smoke from the overheated engine rolled up into her face, causing her to she take a step back. 

“Son of a bitch!” She slammed the hood shut, too dark still to see much of anything, but already knowing the engine was fucked as she rested her hands against the car, attempting several deep breaths so she didn’t lose her shit, completely; not that it helped. Roxxy picking up the nearest rock and chucking it into oncoming traffic as she screamed out angrily, fisting both hands into her dark hair before tossing them up entirely.

“Seriously! What the fuck have I done in my life to deserve this fucking shit?!” Roxxy yelled up at the sky. “Because I sure as shit don’t fucking remember!” She added, standing there for a few seconds longer, as if she would actually receive some kind of answer. But only the sounds of passing traffic surrounded her. Leaving her to heavily sigh as she grabbed her bag and guitar case from the backseat before locking up her beloved car, and began walking.

Praying that this day didn’t get any worse...Someone clearly taking that as a challenge as the next 8 hrs of walking only brought more hell down on her life. From being pelted by rocks kicked up by passing cars, too nearly being run over by an 18-wheeler that had veered off the road at one point -- causing her to bail off into the bar ditch in order to avoid being turned into roadkill; the gravel biting into her skin, scraping up her arms and hands.

But the icing on the cake had been the sudden surprise of a thunderstorm that now had her drenched. Leaving her exhausted and more than a little irritable as she finally made it to the Bar she and her band has been signed up to audition at...Four hours earlier. Roxxy made her way into the nearest restroom as she pushed her way inside and through the groups of people that crowded the place -- for what appeared to be some kind of open mic deal. Doing her best once making into the bathroom to clean herself up before finding an empty booth in a dark corner to hide herself in for a while; after putting in a phone call to towing service.

“Can I get’cha something, Sweetheart?” A pretty blonde woman -- that Roxxy assumed to be a bartender -- asked as she made her rounds on the floor; breaking Roxxy’s attention away from the man up on stage she had been watching, as she dug around in the back pocket of her jeans for her wallet, a frown tugging down the corners her mouth as she opened it to reveal her last five dollars.

“Um...Just a coffee, please?” Roxxy forced a soft smile as she pulled a couple dollars out and tried to hand them over, but the woman simply shook her head and held up her hand with a polite smile as she gave Roxxy a wink and said, “Keep it, Doll. Coffee’s on the house.” Roxxy heaved a sigh as the woman disappeared, returning only a few minutes later with a hot cup of coffee and a clean, dry, bar towel.

“Thank you.” Roxxy gave a genuine smile this time around as she accepted the towel and brought it up to her dark hair, the woman giving her a polite nod before turning to head back to her post behind the bar; Stopping when Roxxy spoke up again, catching her attention. “Hey, what does one need to do to go up on stage?”

“Nothin’ special.” The woman shrugged, glancing over to notice the guitar case that sat propped up against the booth. “Open mic. First come, first serve. Just give that man up there by the stage your name and he’ll put you in the line up.” She smiled before returning behind the bar, leaving Roxxy to contemplate if she was up for it or not. But at this point, what more did she have to lose? Aside from her dignity, maybe.

~

The first thing that caught Mick’s attention was the sound of the guitar and the heavy riff that fell effortlessly from it as her fingers changed over the strings with ease. The smoky, alluring sound of her voice filling the bar speakers as the words from Pat Benatar’s, ‘Heartbreaker’, fell from her lips, capturing the attention of the small audience that had gathered -- as well as his own band, who had been enjoying drinks. The room falling silent for a brief moment before people got into the rhythm of the song and actually started enjoying themselves; unlike with most of the prior participants whose performances had gone ignored. Save for a few of the die hard local fans that cheered them on.

They had seen their fair share of dive bar performers before, but never someone as confident as the dark haired woman up on stage now, who was venturing into territory few women had dared to dive into, yet, in this industry. Her rough, road worn appearance only adding to the edge she already had over most of tonight's participants; which drew the crowd further in as their curiosity peaked. It being easy enough to tell that she wasn��t a local by her ballsy taste in music.

“Hooooly shit!” Tommy was the first to speak up -- over the music -- among their group as he glanced excitedly between his friends and fellow bandmates, and the woman up on stage. “Are you dudes seeing this?!”

Mick simply rolled his eyes behind the pair of dark aviators he worse, shaking his head at the obviously stupid question...wondering for a moment why he ever agreed to put up with these dumb asses he called friends. The rest of the guys smirking and giving their drummer shit before ordering another round of drinks and returning to their conversation. But not Mick; no. He never took his eyes off the woman up on stage.

There were a few things he found intriguing about her and not all of it had to do with her looks; not that he was complaining. She was very easy on the eyes, as far as he could tell from his seat at the end of the bar. Her dark, layered, mess of feathered hair hung down in her face as she sung. Hiding behind it the striking features of her face. Full lips, high cheekbones, sharp jawline...it was like staring at God’s greatest creation. She was clad in a pair of ripped slim fit denims, a cropped muscle tank, that showed plenty of midriff, and a pair of combat boots. Rings and leather cuffs adorned her fingers and wrists.

What truly caught his attention though, was the guitar she played, or rather, the fact that she played it left handed...and upside down. But with her level of skill and confidence, you would never have been able to tell the difference, unless you knew exactly what you were looking at; as Mick did, obviously having played for enough years himself to know. She was good, to good in fact. Which left him to ponder how a woman with that kind of natural talent was still playing the bar/nightclub scene.

“Bitch has some pipes.” Vince mused with an impressed smirk as he passed Mick a shot, forcing him out of his thoughts as he finally tore his gaze away from the stage, give a curt nod to Vince in reply before he said, “She’s got some experience, that’s for sure.” before knocking back the contents of his shot glass. “She plays with a confidence not many possess...especially chicks.” Mick added.

“Yeah, dude, she may even be better than you are.” Tommy joked drunkenly, flinching as Nikki’s hand connected with the back of his head, and Mick rolled his eyes again in return.

“Maybe in your fuckin’ dreams...fuckin’ drummer.” Mick scoffed with a mildly irritated sneer. “She’s good, but not that good.” Mick added with half a lie. Because she really did have talent and with the right person to teach her, she could definitely go places.

“Don’t listening to him, Mick.” Nikki chuckled. “We’re jus’ givin’ you shit.” He added, earning a mumbled, “Whatever...fuckin’ teenagers.” From Mick as he turned his attention back to the woman on stage. Watching with great intent as she closed out the song with the it’s Solo; playing right over the top of other guitarist. The bar erupted into applause once she finished, giving a brief, yet humble bow, before unplugging the Fender Starcaster she played, that she carefully placed it back into its case before jumping off the stage and retreating back to the far corner booth she had been hiding in earlier. Mick and his group watching her for a bit out of curiosity and talking among themselves about her performance.

“Dude’s, we should like totally invite her the party later!” Tommy stated before taking another shot, the rest of the guys giving a mutual nod of agreement; even Mick. Though his aviator covered blue eyes never left the mysterious woman who sat alone, just across the bar.

~

An hour or so had passed since Roxxy returned to hiding in her booth; going through two more cups of coffee, intending on staying until they closed and had to kick her out. Not looking forward to having to potentially spend a night outside, especially if the weather didn’t straighten up before then. A small jolt of anxiety surging through her as the bartender approached her booth, again; fearful that was about to become a possibility.

Roxxy was just about to speak up -- shit, she’d beg if she had too -- in order to stay as long as possible, when the woman set a whiskey in front of her on the table. Earning a  very confused look from Roxxy as she looked up.

“From the gentleman, at the end of the bar.” The blonde yelled over the music, vaguely gesturing to a group of men who had their backs turned, up at the bar. “He said you looked like you could use something a little stronger than the coffee.” Roxxy’s lips curved down in a slight frown as she looked down at herself, giving a sigh.

“Well, um...tell him I said thanks.” Roxxy cleared her throat awkwardly, giving the bartender a soft smile before the woman walked away. Roxxy watching as she went back behind the bar and leaned over to the man at the very end, relaying what she assumed to be her thanks...Roxxy’s stomach nearly falling out of her ass as she recognized him, immediately, as he turned around to face her while holding up his own glass with a nod of ‘cheers’. Roxxy nearly knocking over her own drink as she blindly grabbed for it in order to return the gesture. Almost certain she looked like a deer in the headlights as he gave a smirk before returning to his drink.

“Mick Mars, of thee fucking Mötley Crüe, just bought me a drink.” Roxxy muttered to herself, still half shocked. “And I look like a mother fucking trashcan....could this day get any worse?!” She whined as she placed her forehead against the table, banging it softly against the wood a few times before sitting up and knocking back the entire contents of the rocks glass in front of her. Relishing in the burn that the amber liquid left in its wake, as it traveled down her throat. Wincing softly at the sensation before turning her attention to digging around in the pocket of her leather coat for her smokes, pulling out the last one and lighting it.

“I don’t fucking mean that seriously, either.” She threatened with a pointed finger, speaking to whatever unknown deity happened to be listening as she glanced up at the ceiling and exhaled the puff of smoke from the drag she just took. “I’ve had enough of your shit for one day!” A rush of embarrassment snapping her back to reality as the sound of someone clearing their throat caught her attention, turning to find the bartender back; bottle of Jack in hand as she smiled, jerking her chin over her shoulder at the bar. Roxxy giving a nod of understanding as she pushed the rocks glass over to be filled.

“Rough day?” The woman asked with a soft laugh as she filled the glass.

“You have no idea.” Roxxy groaned as she rubbed her temples with her fingers. “Thanks. Again.” She lifted her glass and gestured towards the bar before taking a sip.

“You know...you could always go tell him yourself.” The woman implied with a grin, giving a laugh as Roxxy starred up at her with a dumbfounded expression. Opening and closing her mouth several times before giving up entirely. This woman couldn’t possibly be serious, suggesting that she -- a complete and total nobody-- go up and talk to a band member of Mötley fucking Crüe; more importantly, the guitarist she had spent the last year idolizing.

“Just a suggestion.” The woman shrugged with a polite smile before leaving again.

Roxxy sat there for a while, weighing her options and sipping on her drink as she considered actually going up to the bar. I mean at this point, what was the worst that could really happen...she had already had a shit day, and besides, she was out of smokes and desperately craving another one, the nicotine somewhat staving off the withdrawals from lack of cocaine use. Having left her entire stash behind at her ex’s.

With a sigh, Roxxy scooted herself out of the booth and grabbed her jacket; draping it over her shoulder as she grabbed her guitar case, and bag before picking up the whiskey glass, knocking back the rest of the Jack Daniels it held before maneuvering her way through the crowd and up to the bar. Propping her stuff in the corner and placing her jacket on the last, empty bar stool, as she took a seat and set her glass on the bar. Mick glancing at her out of the corner of his eye with a raised brow, flagging down the bartender as Roxxy cleared her throat awkwardly.

“You really don’t have too–” Roxxy started, immediately cutting herself off with a mortified look, afraid she was going to offend him as Mick turned to look at her; raising his sunglasses. “I mean, t-thank you– I’m flattered, b-but, really, you don’t–”

“It’s cool.” Mick held up a hand, putting a cease to her ramblings with a half grin. “Wouldn’t be doin’ it if I didn’t want to.” He added as he pushed the now full glass towards her with a middle finger.

“Of course– I mean, I didn’t mean– You know what, I’m gonna shut up.” Roxxy rambled as she took a sip of her whiskey and tossed the empty carton of cigarettes onto the bar top as she fished out her wallet, opening it as she yanked out her last five dollars and tossed it beside the empty carton as she muttered, more so too herself, “I’m usually much more a bitch.” Mick nearly snorting his own drink out his nose as her overheard the comment.

“At least you’re honest.” He replied, motioning for bartender to leave her money and add it to whatever tab he had running. “Besides, looks like you’ve had a shit day.”

“That’s an understatement and a half.” Roxxy snorted with a laugh as she packed her fresh carton of Marlboro’s before opening it and pulling one out and lighting it; taking a drag as she offered the pack to Mick, who accepted and held it to the flame of the zippo lighter in her hand. Nodding his thanks as she snapped it shut and shoved it back into the pocket of her jeans. “I’m Roxanna, by the way.” She added while exhaling a trail of smoke as she offered him her hand. Mick chuckling softly as he glanced down at her hand before he shook it; catching sight of the ‘Mötley Crüe’ logo that was plastered to the front of her cropped tank top.

“Mick. But I’m going to assume you already know that?” He replied. Fighting to stave off the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched her cheeks tint red with a blush as she nodded, flashing him a coy smile.

“Guilty.” Roxxy replied with a soft chuckle before taking another drag from her cigarette. She exhaled slowly as she pushed a hand through her mess of dark hair, shoving it back and away from her face as she stared up at him with Emerald eyes from beneath her dark lashes. Mick looked as though he were about to say something else, when suddenly, Vince appeared between the two of them and wrapped an arm around Roxxy’s shoulders. A cocky grin plastered to his face as he leaned in close.

“Tell me somethin’?” He started in a confident tone as Mick rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he inhaled deeply while muttering, “Jesus...here we fuckin’ go.”

“Did it hurt?” Vince continued, his smirk growing wider as Roxxy looked up at him with feigned interest; cocking her head to one side as she batted her eyes and smiled. Having heard this line one too many times for her liking.

“When I fell from heaven?” She finished for him, momentarily catching Vince off guard, but he was quick to recover, his tongue darting out over his lower lip as his grin widened into that signature sexy smile of his. Mick heaving an audible sigh of annoyance as he finished off his Vodka and ordered another.

“Exactly, Baby--” But before Vince could finish whatever he was about to add as a recovery to the botched pickup line, Roxxy cut him off.

“No...but I did scrape the shit out of my knees during my climbing out of hell.” She finished with a mildly suggestive smirk as she removed his arm from around her shoulders and finished off her cigarette before stamping the last bit out in the ashtray that sat between her and Mick. Vince standing there, slack jawed and bewildered by her response as a soft scoff left his lips. Making it obvious that he wasn’t used to being rejected in such a manner and the fact that Nikki and Tommy were now howling hysterically from a table behind them, didn’t help matters much.

“Did that really just--?”

“Happen?” Mick said, cutting Vince off; his own expression almost as surprised as the lead singers. “Yeah. It happened.” He added, Vince giving a curt nod before skulking back to the table he and the other two band mates had taken up residence at. Leaving Mick to stare at Roxxy with a look of astonishment on his face.

“Holy shit…” Roxxy said with a nervous laugh. “Did I really just offend, Vince Neil?!”

“Yes, and it was fucking fabulous.” Mick smirked as he held up his glass, Roxxy taking the hint and picking up her own as she clinked it against his and took a sip before turning around to the table behind them.

“Is you’re ego gonna alright?” Roxxy asked honestly, though it came out a little more sarcastic than she intended which earned another round of laughter. “No, I mean like really?!” She added.

“Dude!” Tommy howled with laughter, nearly doubling over as he tried to catch his breath. “She’s like the chick version of Mick!” He added, Roxxy fixing him with a glare as she pointed her finger and said, “Watching yourself, drummer boy.” The comment eliciting more laughter, this time including Vince as he turned to look between herself and Mick; who were both glaring at the group in front of them.

“That’s fucking disturbing.” Vince laughed.

“What’s your name, Sweetheart?” Nikki chuckled as he took a sip of his beer, trying to change the subject before Mick started knocking their heads together for his own satisfaction.

“Roxanna.” She replied. “Most everyone calls me Roxxy, though.”

“Oh dear Jesus, not another one.” Nikki gave a short laugh as he turned to look at Tommy, who’s complexion had paled considerably, which caused Roxxy to raise an eyebrow. “Long story.” He added. “Nikki, by the way.”

“She’s aware.” Mick stated as he leaned back against the bar, vaguely gesturing to her shirt. The rest of the guys giving a collective, “Ooh” in response as Roxxy gave a nervous chuckle. Not even sure how any of this was happening right now.

“Come. Sit.” Nikki nodded at their table as Tommy pulled two more stools over for her and Mick. Roxxy briefly giving them a skeptical look, somehow waiting from them to laugh and say they were just kidding...but when that didn’t happen, she moved her things and took a seat at the table between Tommy, and Mick, who took the other seat beside her. “So, what’s your story?” Nikki added curiously after Roxxy was settled at the table.

“Like, the short version?” Roxxy snorted as she took a sip of her whiskey, cocking an eyebrow as she looked up at the band’s bassist. “Woke up yesterday morning to help my band pack for a gig ‘slash’ audition, showed up, walked in on my ex screwing my best friend; the bands lead singer. Packed my shit. Left. Drove 12 fucking hours from Seattle till my car broke down, had to walk, nearly died, missed my fucking audition, got rained on...and now, here I am.” There was a few minutes of collective silence as the guys sat there, staring at her as they tried to process that output of information.

“Jesus.” Mick mumbled into his glass.

“Yeah...And that’s only the last 24 hrs.” Roxxy replied. “A fuckin’ cake walk compared to the rest of my life.”

“Well, fuck that guy.” Nikki finally spoke as he offered her shot glass. “And fuck this day! I mean, at least it’ll end on a note of awesomeness; sitting around having a drink with this group of fucking degenerates!” He added, reaching a hand over and bouncing Tommy’s forehead off the table, which earned a round of laughter from the group.

“Not gonna argue with that.” Roxxy chuckled with a shake of her head before knocking back the contents of the shot glass and placing it upside down on the table. Taking a drag from her cigarette before adding, “I mean honestly, if someone had told me a year ago that I would be sitting in a bar sharing drinks with Mötley Crüe...I probably would’ve punched ‘em in the face.”

“You should most definitely come to our party!” Tommy stated excitedly after pounding two more shots. Roxxy raising a questioning brow as she waited for him to continue, but before he could they were interrupted by the bartender who brought over a telephone and held it out for Roxxy to take; giving a very confused, “Hello?”

“Are you a Miss,” He paused, the sound of papers being rifled through filling the silence on the other end of the line before he continued. “Roxanna Hale?”

“Yeah, that’s me?” Roxxy stated as she waited for the man to continue.

“This is Dan, I’m with Auto Doc’s 24 hr towing service. You called earlier this evening about your car? A Black ‘69 Chevelle?”

“That would be mine.” Roxxy sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, waiting for what she assumed would surely be bad news.

“Well, we picked it up and got it back to the shop. Someone should be able to take a look at first thing in the morning...but um, we’re gonna need the keys. I also have some papers I need you to sign off on before we’d be able to look at it? I understand it’s late, so if you can’t--”

“No, no, it’s cool.” Roxxy replied as she grabbed a napkin off the table and gestured for a pen, three suddenly appearing in front of her face as she grabbed one. “What’s the address?” The man gave it her, along with the shop number before she hung up and downed what was left of her whiskey.

“Wait, you’re not leaving already, are you?” Tommy asked with a mildly dejected puppy dog expression as they watched Roxxy stand and slip on her leather jacket; flipping her hair out of the collar as she smiled softly at him.

“Yep, unfortunately...gotta go sell my soul to the devil so I can get my car fixed.” Roxxy replied jokingly as she threw her bag over her shoulder and picked up her guitar case. “It’s been a pleasure, boys, truly.” She added, turning to address Mick separately as she said, “And thank you for the drinks.”

“No problem.” Mick gave a slight nod as he slipped his sunglasses back on. Disappointed she was leaving already, but not about to show it as he turned back to his drink as Roxxy turned to head for the door, the rest of guys turning to stare at him in disbelief. “What?” Mick stated as he glared at his band mates from behind his glasses.

“You’re seriously gonna let that just walk outta here?!” Vince arched a brow skeptically as he spoke up.

“So?” Mick retorted in a gruff tone as he took another sip of his Vodka.

“So?! You could at least give her the address to the apartment?!” Vince exclaimed as Mick simply shook his head, ignoring him entirely. “You know what, fine. I’ll do it.” He added, reaching for one of the pens on the table. Tommy beating him too it as he snatched one and bounded off towards the door to catch Roxxy. Returning a short while later, grinning triumphantly as he returned the pen.

“Fifty bucks says she shows up.” Vince smirked as he glanced over to Mick who had finished off his drink and was making to leave, himself. Pausing for moment as he turned back to the lead singer with his usual, disgruntled, expression as he replied, “Hundred bucks says she won’t.”  

And without another word, Mick disappeared into the crowd.  

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

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[morphoportiswrites]

Riots. - Chapter Two: Please...

Summary: After finding Bane wounded and dying in Gotham City Hall, you have to make a decision. Your friends or him?

Pairing: Bane (TDKR) x Reader

Word Count: 2022

Warnings: Lots of swearing

Author’s Note: So here it is, the second chapter! I hope it’s not too boring? I really know how to drag things on, don’t I? Hahaha! (Also tumblrs formating is pissing me off. XD) And again: English is not my first language.

(Y/NN = Your nickname) (Found the gif on giphy!)

Chapter Two: Please...

Bane's grip was awfully tight around your neck and you were a 100% sure, even in his weakened state, this man was able to break it with one simple and swift move. For a split second you thought about ways to free yourself from his hand but another thing you were pretty sure about was, that he'd catch you by your hair.

“Seriously? I'm just trying to help you, man”, your mouth complained before your brain could actually rate the words coming out of it as a teensy bit inept. Nice. Way to get yourself out of this mess. To be honest, you had never been someone to shut their pie hole when situations required it.

Bane's eyes practically shot daggers at you. Stare still. Somewhat furious... but there was something else in them. Something you couldn't quite place. Fear? Pain? Confusion?

Bane was confused. What initially had triggered his reflex to defend himself, that no one could be trusted and everyone was just out to get him... there  was nothing of it in your eyes. Assessing your motives, something told him, you meant every word you said. It was odd and frankly he was surprised by himself when he felt the muscles in his arm and hand shift.

You felt his fingers loosen and were able to pull away. Not trying to panic, you breathed in and out. In and out. While rubbing your neck. You could still feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin. If there was one feeling you hated, it was that of being physically restrained or downright inferior. Honestly, you had assumed this was the last time of you being cheeky in a situation like this. He could have hurt you so easily.

Now it was your turn to look somewhat confused and you were about to speak when you heard footsteps moving quickly down the stairs in the large hallway of the entrance. One pair halted in the door frame of the room you recently occupied and you turned your head around to see who it was. “You were right, Y/NN. An absolute waste of time and energy. Maybe a couple of pieces of furniture but too big and heavy to actually keep this a short time visit”, Cable, who's given name was actually Greg, admitted.

Told you so, crossed your mind for a moment but being sassy was not the major priority right now. “Look what I found though...”, you uttered and nodded into the direction of the almost lifeless body laying in front of you. Cable not being able to see what you meant, came closer.

“Shit! Is that... Bane?”

“Yes, and-”

“Fuck!”, he crossed the rest of the room and came to a halt next to you. “Wow, someone beat him up well”, a bemused snicker escaped Cable's lips.

“I need your help.” Another confused look.

“With what?”

“We need to get him out of here”, matter of factly.

“Excuse me?!... No, this... nah”, Cable pulled a face and lifted his hands in a defensive motion.

“He needs help or he'll die, Greg!”

“Sorry doll, but this is too risky for me... getting caught with him... and to be honest... he already looks fucking dead.” In any other situation you would have not let his degrading nickname for you slip past.

“That's because he's dying, you stupid fuck!”, you felt your face getting heated.

Cable put on his helmet and shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it's better that way”, it seemed like he thought that now was his turn to sound matter of factly, as he put on his motorcycle gloves.

There it was. Your breaking point. The anger rushing from your head through your whole body, had you up in no time, when you both heard a voice yelling his name. It sounded urgent. Maybe someone from the group had turned on police radio and they weren't far.

In just one or two seconds more, a whole lot of things happened. Inside your head at least. In milliseconds your mind raced through your memories and replayed moment after moment you had spent together with the group. Things had been nice at the beginning. Nice and simple. You all had had the same goal. Or so you had thought it seemed. Sure, none of you was a saint in all of this but was this group still what you initially had joined it for? Were you all still on the same page? Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor? The last couple of heists had ended pretty violently and you had done nothing to prevent or stop it. You were as guilty as them.

Was that still you? What had happened to the girl calling people out on their bullshit? Even physically fighting for people who needed help? Fighting school yard bullies, mobsters, men who couldn't keep their hands to themselves?

So much more rushed through your mind. Situation after situation that had you made feel more and more alienated and cut off from the others. Had you overthink and doubt everything you were doing. Into all of this you felt fury pouring in. Was that guy in front of you still that chill dude you'd hooked up with a few times? Right now he was a bit too chill for your taste. If you thought about it, you had never gotten to know any of them, really. Who was to say Greg hadn't been a complete ass before, already? But refusing to help someone who was dying? This was it.

“Piss off.”

“What?”

“You heard me right, Greg. Piss off”, you almost spit in his face. Another cold shrug of his shoulders and he was gone out the door. A couple of moments later, the sound of engines could be heard and every other second if faded away gradually.

Your eyes fell back to Bane's face. Okay... you knew where to get him, you only needed a plan to get him out of here. Preferably as fast as possible. The sirens of police cars could be heard far in the distance of the city. Turning your gaze from the man's eyes, yours scanned the room yet again. This time for something that could be of use but nothing seemed obviously helpful in your endeavours or trigger an idea.

Quickly your feet carried you out of the room, the building and to your motorcycle. Without thinking twice, your hands opened the hatch at the back of the small trailer that was connected to your bike and emptied all the stolen valuables on to the street. So, now you knew how to transport the masked man. Just not how to get him down here. His injury was probably way too severe for him to waste too much strength on carrying his own weight.

“Think, think, think!”, you said out loud and gave your forehead a few good pats. Again your feet started moving. It had always been like that since you had been a child. Either your feet knew where to lead you or walking helped you to get your brain into motion as well, ideas flooding in. This time they made you pace up and down next to your bike. And you were about to give up on their stimulating support this time and go back inside, when your feet made you trip over something and fall hands first down on the pavement. Looking back at what had caught your two fellas attention, your eyes spotted a rolled up rug. You knew you could always count on them.

This morning you had taken the rug from the house of a guy who had the walls of his home plastered with photos of himself. The only face you found was a movie poster from The Big Lebowski right above a cosy sofa with a rug in front of it that tied the room together. You had to take this thing with you just to simply fuck with this wannabe playboy. It had been more of a meta joke to take it but you never thought the sight of a rug could've made you feel inspiration, excitement and relieve. You quickly got up on your feet again.

Bane hadn't expected to see your face ever again when you had left, so he did what this cruel world had made him exceptionally good at. Surviving. He knew his chances were small, certainly non-existent, but if he'd be able to block out the pain, as his mask partly did for him and as he was trained to do in greater detail and intensity all his life, he might could get a few blocks away from here. There he would die in the darkness, hidden from the world, he was sure. Anything was better than being in the hands of the police. Getting thrown in a cage again.

As he was about to slip into some kind of trance, to disassociate himself from the pain in his body, he felt something from the outside pulling him back. A physical impulse. And a voice. Muffled. The voice started sounding clearer as he shifted his mind back to reality again, clinging to the pain to guide him back. “Bane!”, he opened his eyes to the sound of his name. And there it was again. The face of that girl.

And there he was again. You exhaled deeply with more than some relieve. The moment you had seen him with his eye lids closed, you had feared the worst. Feared? What kind of thought was that? And what was he to you anyway? A terrorist? Scratch that. Someone who was about to die infront of your eyes and you couldn't let that happen, could you? No matter who he was.

“I'm really sorry about this...”, you apologised in advance for the increase of pain he was going to feel from what you had in mind. You rolled out the rug next to him, fuzzy side down. This way it would function as a poor excuse of a stretcher you could drag across the sleek marble floor and thus be able to get someone his weight out of here. “You've got to help me a bit to get you onto this thing”, you explained. For a moment you could see the hesitation in his tense body, the suspicion in his eyes. The sirens of the police cars cut through the silence between the two of you. Definitely closer than before. You held out your hand to grab. “Please...”, a whisper. Almost pleading.

Heavy breathing grew heavier as Bane's hand grabbed yours. Luckily you weren't opposed to work heavy physically and nature had you made with a bit of counterweight anyway, so you weren't pulled down by his. Together you managed to get him on the rug, his agitated breathing was the only sign of pain you could read off of him, and you wasted no time to pull on it. It wasn't as easy as you had wished it to be, with all the rubble specking the way out. Tomorrow you'd definitely have sore muscles but that was a ridiculous price you were willing to pay to get both of you out of all of this. Alive.

The stairs were the short way but no option, so you played it safe and dragged him down the long wheelchair ramp at the outside. As soon as you reached the back of the trailer and hold out your hand another time, Bane's already held on to it. Either way he had realised how close the cops were now or... no, don't you think like that, Y/N! You scolded yourself while you helped the man who was easily a head taller than you and built like a brick wall into the vehicle. With a few quick movements you fastened the top cover to hide Bane from eventual encounters with the officials and other folk, and hopped onto your bike. A good and precise kick to the starter and you fled the scene.

______________________________________________

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#bane x reader #bane tdkr #tdkr #tdkr bane #batman #fanfic #fanfiction #tom hardy x reader #the dark knigth rises

[shittyfandomimagines]

Fallin’ All In You

Word count: 2,103

Lovely fluff- pure fluff for my love

(GIF cred to owner)

“Where did he take you on your first date?” I read the question from one of Shawn’s fans. I look over at Shawn and he’s grinning big.

“He actually didn’t take me on a first date, I had to take him. This loser kept telling me that it’ll never work because he’s always on tour. I told him that if he didn’t feel anything between us on the first date, I’d back down. We went to a cafe in Toronto and apparently, he felt something. I mean we met in a cafe and only sent messages to each other.” I explain with a big smile on my face and he nudged my arm. “I still do.” He whispers towards me and I roll my eyes.

“So is Don’t Be a Fool about you?” He leans towards the screen and I laugh obnoxiously. “Hell yes!” I exclaim and he puffs out some air. “Listen I was just telling my side before we began dating. Obviously, I don’t feel that way now. I love her so much.” He grins and everyone started to comment heart eyes.

“You should do a makeup tutorial with me.” I read a comment and I look at the name, James Charles was the one who commented it. “I’m down for that because I need some lessons. Plus, that whole controversy with Shawn was a mood so this will be the thing that eases the tension. Love you!” I send kisses to him.

“How or when did you know you were in love with y/n?” I read the question from a fan and my heart fluttered to be able to hear Shawn talk about it. I mean I know he loves me and I remember the day he told me quite vividly, but I didn’t know the exact moment.

“I actually don’t want to tell the whole world because that’s something so private for us two. I really appreciate everyone’s comments but we have dinner to make. Bye guys love you!” Shawn starts waving and so do I.

“Thanks, everyone for being nice, I love you guys.” I throw up a peace sign and Shawn hits the end button.

He helps me up and then we walk towards the kitchen, I grab the pans from under the cabinets. “So, whatcha got planned for tonight?” He asks as he sat on the barstool. “I’m thinking about baked chicken with ranch seasoning and then some twice baked mashed potatoes. Want anything else?” I smile up at him and he shakes his head. “Sounds good to me, I’m not starving so whatever you want.” He explains so I nod.

I put the seasoning on the chicken and leave it on the counter as I wait for the oven to preheat. I start to let the water boil for instant mashed potatoes and I get out the butter and cheese, it calls for sour cream but I’m not feeling it tonight.

I feel Shawn’s eyes staring at me and I try to ignore it, but he begins to hum and I look up. He had his normal thinking face on and I tilt my head. “Whatcha thinking about?” I ask while I stir the instant potato mix into the hot water. He just shakes his head and gives me a smile. “You, like always.” He mumbles, resting his head in his palms.

“Shut up.” I roll my eyes and pour the mashed potatoes into a pan, sprinkling cheese on top and cutting butter to let it lay on top. I stick both the mashed potatoes and chicken in the oven, when I stand back up I didn’t see Shawn at the bar. I was secretly waiting for him to scare me from behind, but it never happened.

I set the timer on the oven and try to find out where he ran off to, I peep my head into the living room but he wasn’t in there. I stop to listen outside of his music room, I hear humming so I push the door open a little more.

When Shawn was in this room, there was no pulling him out of it with just small noises, it took an army. He was muttering things to himself and writing frantically on a piece of paper.

It didn’t matter when I am happy or when we are arguing, the moment I saw him I couldn’t help but to be in love all over again. Like his eyes, sparkle and they have that gorgeous twinkle when they are met with the sun. The way he sticks his tongue out a little to the side when he’s concentrated. He’d always look up with me with that shit-eating grin that made my heart pound.

“Oh, I’ve been alone for quite a while, haven’t I?” He harmonizes with a few plucks at the guitar, I feel myself smile slightly. “Found love but I was wrong.” He vocalizes and I know that there’s no telling what the context behind it was, but I felt my heart flicker at that line. “Fallin’ for you. No no no. Fallin’ all in you.” He scribbles out something and I feel my chest lighten up.

“You never told me the moment when you realized you were in love.” I break his thoughts and he jumps slightly. “How long have you been there?” He asks as he puts the guitar back on its stand. “Long enough to know you’ve been alone for a long time.” I joke and he pats the chair next to him.

“Just writing about someone special in my life.” He lets a smile tug onto his lips. I feel my chest tighten with love when he did this, he literally has me wrapped around his finger. “Is it Ellen? Has to be Ellen.” I joke and he nods. “Oh yeah, it’s Ellen for sure.” He adds to my joke and I giggle quietly. I always loved how our energy and humor bounced off each other since the day we met.

“I know the moment I fell for you,” I admit to him and he perks up, involuntarily leaning in.

“I was sick with some cold and I begged you to stay away because the last thing a pop-star needs is to have a cold. You sat with me and even made me soup. Then, you’d bring in medicine and brushed hair out of my eyes or you would rub my back softly.” I spoke tenderly and he rubbed his hand over mine.

“Every time I coughed you would flinch because you were afraid that I would pull a muscle,” I add with a loud laugh.

“I remember the exact moment I was like ‘holy shit, this girl is the love of my life’ because it replays in my head often. You’re racing in my mind daily.” He kisses my hand and I feel my neck getting red. I nod eagerly for him to continue.

“I had flown back in for a 2-week break from tour. I had brought you those Russel Stover from like Kansas and you hated them, but you never told me that because you were just happy I thought of you. Then, you took a bite out of all them to see what flavor was inside, muttering under your breath about how they need descriptions.” He explains but I didn’t feel like that’s anything to fall in love with, then again I’m totally weird. Plus, who the fuck thought to put an orange filling in chocolate?

“Aha, I just surprised that you fell in love with that,” I add and he shakes his head.

“I thought it was hilariously adorable and the same day it clicked, but that’s not what made me fall. Right after that, I invited you to my parents' house for some barbecue thing. You were so nervous but when we got there you fit. You talked to my dad about the hockey game, you helped my mom finish making some pie, and then Aaliyah showed you pictures of Harry Styles, you fangirled with her. You were like a perfect fit.” He explains further and my stomach felt full of butterflies.

“During supper, you looked over to me with your beautiful eyes gleaming when mom asked if we could come to eat again before I left for tour again. You had the cutest pleading eyes and I just knew you meant so much more to me because you fell in love with my family too. I didn’t tell you I loved you until another month but I was a chicken with doubts if you loved me back.” He explains and I rubbed his cheek softly.

“I think my love for you will never be questioned because I literally get this bubbly feeling in my chest and stomach when you wake me up with that gorgeous smile. You run your hands up and down my arms to the point that I get goosebumps, you kiss my nose and it makes me giddy like a baby. You give me those hugs that fix every crack and then those abs, damn.” I sigh towards the end and he was smirking.

“Well, you do the Russel Stover thing and then you always ask for a white chocolate Reese’s when I stop for gas. You have this automatic connection with everyone and you’re always willing to see the best in people. You come on tour with me when you know I’m having a hard time staying myself. You do this thing in your sleep where you reach out for my arm, it makes me feel at home. You love so hard and make it easy to reciprocate.” He mumbles as he continuously gets closer to my face.

He kisses my lips shortly and then backs out some. “And god you look up at me with those eyes when we kiss and I get a rush of energy.” He whispers and pushes his lips onto mine again, I pull his face into mine with a little more urgency.

He puts his warm hands on my back and I jump slightly. “You stay cold all the time and it feels good under my touch. Then, you always whisper in embarrassment while asking if you could curl your cold body into mine and I always get this tightening in my chest.” He admits and starts kissing my jawline.

He makes his way back towards my lips and I shove him forcefully into me, he basically helps by guiding my way onto his lap. I was twirling the curls on the nape of his neck. “You drive me so fucking crazy.” He pulled me into his chest as much as he could.

“Almost forgot how you are when we argue, you hardly ever raise your voice because you respect what I need to say. You process your thoughts before you say them and you hate when someone is unnecessarily angry. It’s so admirable of you and I try every day to be like you.”

He pushes his lips back onto mine and I I feel my eyelashes flutter a little, but I hear my timer go off.

“Baby, you know I love making out with you and I’d do it a million times over, but I think our twice baked is gonna hella baked.” I push myself away from him, he groaned loudly. “Screw eating supper, we could do so many other things.” He pouts and I get off his lap.

“It’ll be ready soon.” I peck his cheek. I make my way to the door but Shawn’s voice stopped me. “Oh and babe, I’m fallin’ all in you, forever.” He smiles toward me and I grin.

“I’m gonna finish this song about you so just yell at me if you’re ready to eat.” He adds and I nod.

I go to walk away but I feel a little grin tugging its way onto my face. I peep my head back into the room.

“If you come back to the kitchen with me, I’ll make out with you while the chicken finishes,” I suggest with the satisfaction of how he was genuinely surprised. He looked at me and back down at his guitar, then back up to me. I start to walk off when I hear him groan, “I guess it wouldn’t kill me to get some more inspiration.” He says to himself and I start to run as he did the same when he came out the music room.

He lifts me up and runs into the kitchen. “I’m turning off the oven!” He yells excitedly as he puts me down.

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