#the original outline was trying to rush to the end because I was ready 2 finish tm

[mimik-u]

progress update on flower child:

good news — I only have 7 more art pieces to replace + I'm 8K words into the next chapter, and the majority of it (75%) is written. bad news — I think there may be more chapters of fc than I was originally intending dshihfaoifsjojo because I don't like my original outline.

#maggie blogs #the original outline was trying to rush to the end because I was ready 2 finish tm #but it was way too rushed and that's not fair to this fic if I do that #flower child

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 6

You continue the tale of how you, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter became known as The Marauders.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 6 .:The Making of the Marauders:.

~Previously~

“That was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they had. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year. . .”

“So at this point I knew that they were hiding something else, but not what it was,” you told Harry, continuing on with your story, “But one night we had planned to meet up and use the invisibility cloak to map out the underground tunnels that ran through the storage cellars, and they never showed up. So I snuck into the Gryffindor common room through the secret passage and found their dorm completely empty. But what was there was our work in progress map. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This isn't going to work,” Peter said flatly, watching James and Sirius draw a large circle in chalk on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

“Not with that attitude it's not,” James said, “if there's a way we can speed up this process I'm willing to give it a go. I don't know how long I can go on with this bloody leaf in my mouth.”

“Is this even real?” Peter sighed, “it looks like what muggles think magic is.”

“It's real all right,” Sirius said, “old, but real. I mean, Transfiguration was founded on the principles of magic circles! I'm not really sure what these runes on the side mean, but it's probably not important.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Peter retorted, “Remus, back me up here.”

He turned towards Lupin, but he had long since dozed off, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the nearly decaying walls in the corner. Peter sighed, taking a piece of paper from the ground and crumpling it into a ball before promptly throwing it in the sleeping boy's face. Lupin jolted awake, realizing what had happened and chucking the paper back at Peter in annoyance.

“Not a moment of peace,” he huffed under his breath.

“Sounds awfully boring,” James said over his shoulder.

“Blimey, what time is it?” Remus said, panicked as he noticed the light had completely gone from the sky, “It's long past sundown.”

“So?” Sirius shrugged.

“So, we told (Y/n) we'd meet them to work on the map at dusk,” Remus said, “They're probably looking for us right now!”

“Oh, they are,” you announced your presence, an unimpressed look on your face as they jumped, whipping around to look at you.

“(Y-Y/n)!” Sirius stuttered, “how did you—”

You held up the map, raising a brow at the four guilty looking boys.

“Right. . .”

“You snuck into our rooms?!” James said incredulously as he saw the map, which he was sure he had left on his bedside table, in your hands.

“You've snuck into my shower before, Potter,” you glared lightly at him.

“Point taken.”

“Okay, look, I'm sorry we didn't show tonight, and I know we've been acting weird,” Sirius sighed, “the truth is—”

“Lupin's a werewolf.” 

The color drained from Remus' face, slightly mortified that you already knew.

“Come on, guys,” you said, “the claw marks and you lot disappearing whenever there's a full moon kind of gave it away. You aren't exactly subtle about it.”

You could sense the intense nervousness in the room, especially from Remus. Ok, so maybe coming right out with it wasn't the best course of action.

“Look,” you said, “if you're worried about anyone else finding out, they won't. I mean, the only reason I even knew you were here is because I'm literally helping you make a magical map that details all the secret passages and shows where everyone is. I won't tell anyone, I swear.”

They still seemed a little unsure, and you bit the inside of your lip slightly.

“If it'll make us even, I'll let you know a secret of my own,” you said, “it can even be future blackmail me if you really don't trust me.”

“No, it's not that, (Y/n),” Remus said as he stepped forward, his throat feeling dry, “it's just, well, I've never really told anyone except the people in this room. Having someone else know. . . it's just a lot to process, but if had to be anyone I'm glad it's you.” He paused for a moment, feeling oddly self-conscious as he regarded you. “When I turn into a werewolf I can't recognize any human as someone I know. I have no control over myself in that state. In the worst case scenario, I could injure or even kill someone I didn't mean to. We originally started taking note of the secret passages and rooms to find a place where I could turn safely and not hurt anyone, and we settled on here. I don't remember much when I come out of it, but. . . I do feel this painful sense of separation each time. Werewolves are pack creatures by nature, so being isolated in that state is. . . agony, if I must be honest. They all figured, I can't recognize humans, but perhaps I could recognize other animals, so. . .”

“They're trying to become animagi,” you finished, “so you won't have to be alone. That's. . . that's actually really sweet,” you said, a breathy laugh escaping you.

Remus thanked Merlin the Shrieking Shack was as dimly lit as it was so his beet red face was at least somewhat less noticeable.

“I agree,” Remus said, turning to his friends and sharing a rare, genuine moment with them. “And, you don't have to tell us your secret,” he said, turning back to you, “it's okay.”

“Hey, I wanted to know,” Sirius said, Peter swiftly elbowing him in the ribs.

“I was actually planning on telling you anyways,” you said, “If you guys are trying to become animagi, I can help you.”

You took a few steps back, bracing yourself against the wall.

“Promise me you won't freak out.”

After receiving a few quick nods, you kicked off the wall. Your body seemed to morph in mid-air, shrinking and re-configuring so fast that by the time you landed on the floor you had been entirely replaced by a large, (e/c)-eyed wolf with fur reminiscent of your hair.

Peter yelped, instinctively putting Sirius in front of him who was gawking at the sight. Remus was in complete shock and you could have sworn you saw James' glasses slip down his face.

In your animal form your heightened senses could sense their fear, and you tried your best to assuage it. You padded around in a circle, sitting down and blinking up at them to try and show them you were in control of your actions. After you figured they'd seen enough, you crawled back into your robes, which had pooled on the floor when you'd transfigured, and willed your body to turn back.

James, Sirius, and Peter looked somewhere in the intersection of shocked and terrified, but Remus looked nothing less than impressed.

“That's amazing, (Y/n),” he said breathlessly, “your transformation was seamless, how long have you had this ability?”

“My aunt had me go through the process when I was nine,” you said, a bitter edge to your voice as you fastened your clothes back around you, “it's not fun, but obviously useful. And thank you, but trust me, it didn't come at all naturally to me. I spent a good part of my winter break stuck with a wolf's hind legs, which is just as inconvenient as it sounds.”

“But this proves that it's possible!” James said, a new rush of energy invigorating him, “we can actually pull this off.”

“If I can manage to keep this sodding leaf from choking me every ten minutes,” Peter grumbled.

“Here, this should help with that,” you said, drawing your wand and pointing it at Peter's mouth. With a simple sticking charm, he suddenly felt the odd sensation of the leaf in his mouth disappearing, only to find it had melded with the flesh on the underside of his tongue.

“It's a long process, but yes, it's possible,” you said to James. Your eyes drifted to the floor where the magic circle and pages of runes were still scattered about, “if you were thinking of taking shortcuts, you might have wanted to read the warning about this spell requiring a blood sacrifice.”

The quartet paled and you laughed at their dumbstruck expressions.

“Kidding,” you grinned, “but seriously, there's no shortcuts. Now look alive, boys. We have a lot of work to do.”

_________________________________________________________

From then on, you helped the four wizards along on their quest to become fully fledged shifters.

“In order to become an animagus, a wizard must keep a Mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month, even when eating and sleeping,” Peter read aloud from the book they'd snatched from the restricted section, “Next, under a full moon, the wizard must place the leaf in a vial full of dew that has neither been stepped on nor exposed to the sun. The resulting potion must be stored in a dark place, and the following incantation: Amato Animo Animato Animagus, must be recited every morning until an electrical storm arrives, at which point the potion can be taken.”

“Blimey, all that to turn into a bloody cat?” Sirius said, exasperated.

“Well we have the first part almost done,” James said, feeling the faintest outline of the leaf still under his tongue, “Next full moon we'll have to go dew-hunting, I suppose. Looks like you'll have to stick it out for a few more cycles, Moony,” he said to Remus.

“That's alright,” he said, “I've made it this far.”

“He won't be alone for those,” you said, “I'll spend the full moons with him until you guys are ready.”

“What?” James said, looking at you like you'd just told him you were off to join Voldemort, “not a chance, that's way too dangerous.”

“Aw, don't act like you're all concerned about me all of a sudden, Potter,” you smirked. When his expression didn't change it took you aback slightly. He was actually worried about you. “Look, I'm probably the best suited for it anyways,” you said, coughing a bit to coast through the awkward tension, “Remus and I are both wolves, or at least partly. If one of you end up turning into a sheep or something you might be dead meat, not to freak you out or anything.”

“That's reassuring,” Sirius said under his breath.

____________________________________________________________

“You really don't have to do this,” Lupin insisted as you sat on the floor together in the Shrieking Shack later that month.

“I want to,” you assured him, “take it as a thanks for helping me pass Arithmancy. Besides, it's a perfectly fine excuse for me to practice interacting with other animals in my animagus form.”

The boy beside you was quiet for a moment, shoulders tense and jaw set tight. It wasn't that he wasn't happy you were here, he was more grateful than you could know, but he was terrified that he was going to end up hurting you. On top of that was the fact that he didn't want you to see him as he transformed. It wasn't pretty, and it was visibly painful. He didn't want you to think any lower of him, though he knew that fear was irrational.

The calming jazz record that spun on the other side of the room was the only noise between you two for quite some time, but you understood that he needed time to gather his thoughts. This was something so deeply personal you were surprised and a bit honored he allowed you to be here at all. You noticed the photograph that he held in his hands; it was of Hogwarts, taken from the very edge of the forest. The sun was peeking over the horizon, spilling out between the complexly constructed towers that made up the castle's exterior, and casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape.

“It's beautiful,” you said, “the picture.”

“It is,” Remus smiled to himself and nodded, “James gave it to me, as a reminder. He said that matter what happens during the full moon, the sun will always rise on us again.”

“Huh,” you mused softly, “perhaps he isn't such an insufferable jerk after all.”

“Oh, no, he is,” Lupin chuckled, “but he is also a very good friend, and endlessly thoughtful even if he denies it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. You supposed he was.

“Well,” you said, laughing a bit as you shifted in your seat, “this isn't as deep and meaningful as the photo, but I brought something for you.” You reached into your bag, retrieving something that made Remus' eyes widen.

“Where did you get that?” he said, elated as you held out his favorite chocolate bar which had been out of stock at Hogsmeade for weeks now.

“You guys have a secret tunnel that goes right to the Honeydukes cellar and you've never taken advantage of their storage?” you grinned.

Lupin hesitated as he held the bar in his hands.

“So you stole it?”

“I left five dracma in the tip jar,” you rolled your eyes, “I'm not a death eater.”

His smiled returned at that, and he ripped open the familiar foil gratefully.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It's the least I could do,” you said.

“It's really not,” he said, turning to face you fully. You were left a bit breathless as the unexpected intensity of his eyes. “None of this is the least you could do, because the least you could do is nothing,” he continued, rambling, “we were so horrible to someone you consider a dear friend, and you were willing to look past that. You're risking your life by even being with me right now, (Y/n).”

“You don't—”

“I do know that,” Remus said sharply, “I've never been in contact with anyone as a werewolf. The one time I was, I. . .” he trailed off, and it hurt you to see his pained expression, “I just don't know how I'll react.”

“You're saying that as if something bad's already happened,” you said gently, “it'll be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked quietly, equally full of frustration and admiration.

“I'm willing to put my trust in you, Remus. I think it's time you put some trust in yourself.”

Lupin's heart pounded a little harder in his chest. Had you ever called him by his first name before? You looked at him so reassuringly, so confidently. He couldn't understand it, but your words reached him to his core.

“(Y/n). . .” he trailed off, blinking rapidly. A shaky breath escaped him, and your stomach dropped.

“Remus?”

Suddenly you saw something shift in him. His breathing became heavy and his pupils dilated, completely filling his irises in a matter of seconds. He braced himself against the wall as he stumbled to his feet, his skin slowly taking on a gray hue.

“It's happening,” he said, voice deeper and strained, his neck convulsing, “you have to transform, now!”

You didn't waste any time, taking the shape of your wolf form and padding away a cautionary distance. Your stomach churned as you watched Remus yell out, his expression full of pain as his body grew in size, his cries slowly becoming reminiscent of howls. His face contorted in agony as his head morphed into a more animalistic shape, ears growing from his scalp and fur appearing as if his werewolf was fully formed inside him, physically escaping through his skin. You've seen werewolves before, but seeing someone you know actually turn into one, it was completely different. Nothing could have prepared you for this. Seeing anyone in this much pain made your chest tighten harshly.

At last it seemed the transformation was complete. Remus Lupin was gone, and in front of you stood a creature of at least eight feet, perched on his hind legs and towering over you especially in your animal form. You could hear how ragged his breathing had become, his body convulsing with the motion; growing and retracting like a beating heart. You heard a whimper escape his throat, and you could tell he was still recovering from the pain.

You steeled yourself, making the decision to alert him to your presence subtly. You tilted your head upwards, releasing a similar sounding whimper to his. Immediately the werewolf across from you was on high alert, his head snapping towards you and his lips pulling back into a snarl as his ears lowered. You took an instinctive step back, lowering your head slowly. He seemed puzzled by your behavior, which made sense seeing as Lupin told you he never interacted with any other animals during the full moon. His head tilted inquisitively and he took a heavy step forward. You forced yourself to not back away, testing the waters. His eyes narrowed again as he saw you standing your ground, but you quickly sat down, your head tilting to expose your neck slightly. You made doubly sure not to show any signs of aggression; you knew you had no chance against a werewolf at full strength.

However, he seemed to take your queues well. His tail seemed to relax a bit, his eyes returning to their full, round shape as he looked at you with curiosity. You sniffed up at him and he hesitated, but eventually circled around you and did the same. You could almost see the turmoil in him, as a werewolf you doubted anyone he came across treated him with anything less than terror in their eyes, but you were completely relaxed.

He whimpered again, and you were shocked at the sign of submission. You rose to your feet, and he didn't back away. You let out a friendly yip, which he returned, and you felt the weight lift off your chest. You leaped to the side, and he followed you, running alongside you as you bounded across the room, practically leaping off the walls. You jumped at each other playfully, rolling across the floor in a mess of fur. You smiled inwardly as this continued throughout the night, no longer seeing fear or pain or aggression in his eyes when you looked into them. Even if he wouldn't remember most of this, you hoped he would at least feel better in the morning than all the times he had to go through it alone.

Exhausted from all the playing around, you padded softly back to your robes, crawling inside yours and and gesturing over to him with your head. He followed you, coming down to all fours before laying beside you. You weren't sure when sleep came over you, but it was like the world's most comfortable blanket had been thrown over your shoulders, and your eyes drifted closed of their own volition. . .

“Merlin's beard, just what were you two doing last night?!”

You and Remus both jolted awake at the sound of James Potter's aggravatingly loud voice but quickly came to your senses. Remus' arms were wrapped around you, your back facing him. You were just barely covered by your robes with nothing underneath as a result of your transformation. As you scrambled to get decent your face heated even more as you saw Remus was currently without a shirt, his pants ripped considerably. You scrambled away from each other, trying to make yourselves decent.

Peter was howling with laughter, James looking smug as ever. Sirius was oddly quiet, but you were too wrapped up in the embarrassment to notice his behavior.

“What was that about being 'endlessly thoughtful'?” you grumbled to Remus.

“Right, I completely take back what I said,” he scoffed, “ 'insufferable jerk' is much more accurate.”

“Close your eyes, you perverted git!” you yelled at James, who was blatantly staring at you, “toss me my clothes at least, would you?”

James bit back a smirk as he grabbed your bag that was sitting in the corner of the room— clothes you had brought with the intention of changing into after returning to your human form when Lupin fell asleep. He tossed it over to you and you began to change under your robes. As his back was turned to you his mind began to wander. You'd always been attractive, sure, but since you'd always been his rival he hadn't really given you a second thought, especially when he'd been trying to get Lily's attention for ages. But just now, thinking about how downright adorable you looked when you'd yelled at him, something in him shifted. He shook it off quickly, turning to Lupin with a grin he'd managed to put on concernedly fast.

“You cheeky bastard,” he said to Remus, who was furiously changing into a new shirt, “you just wanted her alone, didn't you? Do you really need us to become animagi after all?”

“You're the worst, Potter,” the werewolf glared at him.

“Don't listen to him, Remus,” you grumbled, straightening out your tie as you slipped it on over your shirt, “he's an even bigger idiot than he looks.”

“Are you implying I look stupid?”

“Implying may not be a strong enough word.”

__________________________________________________________

It had taken months of brewing the potion and getting all the necessary preparations in order, but they were finally ready. Remus sat with you in the grass, wand at the ready to undo any untoward transfiguration that happened on accident. Peter, Sirius, and James stood across from you, standing at the edge of a stone ledge about five feet off the ground. You'd said that a leap of faith is what would best trigger their first transformation. They looked nervous, but they were prepared as they'd ever be. Over the last year you had grown considerably closer to the four boys you had miraculously come to know as friends.

“Remember, focus on your emotions,” you said, “you need to pick a strong one, let it fill your body and flow through you. If you block the magic off from any part of your body, it's not going to be pretty.”

“Right, but how do I—”

“James, I swear, I'm really rooting for you to be a mute animal.”

“But how do you choose-”

“Just do it already!”

“Oh, sod it,” James squeezed his eyes shut, not giving himself time to second guess before jumping off the ledge. For a moment he was certain he was about to land face first in the dirt, but then it happened— a moment where time seemed to freeze and his body felt completely weightless. He felt this sensation where his arms and legs vibrated with an intense, foreign energy. Images flashed through his mind in that brief moment in the air; Sirius manically laughing as they ran away from Filch, Remus snapping off a piece of chocolate to offer him after he'd lost Gryffindor a Quidditch match, and, unexpectedly, you. A feeling of warmth spread through his chest, and he grasped onto it, letting it flow through his body like you said. In an instant he felt torso shift, his shoulders narrow, his neck elongate; and when he landed on the ground he still landed face-first as he predicted, but in a completely different form.

He could see you and Lupin in front of him, mouths agape. He was about to say something when he found his vocal chords only allowed him a gruff whine. Shocked, he lifted his head, which felt much heavier than he'd last recalled, and as he looked down at himself he was taken aback to be met with a pair of hooves right beneath him. He staggered to his feet on wobbly legs, of which he now had four. As he tilted his head he could see the shadow of a pair of antlers twisting into brilliant shadows on the grass.

“Potter, you did it!” you exclaimed, “you actually did it!”

“Well how about that,” Remus chuckled, “a stag.”

“It fits him, I think,” you grinned, looking over at Sirius and Peter who looked determined and terrified respectively. “Well go on, it's your turn now!”

Sirius braced himself for the jump, but somehow he found no fear in his system. After seeing James shift in the air right before his eyes, he knew he could do it. He looked over at Peter who was nearly shaking.

“Come on, Peter,” he said, “we'll go together.”

“I-I don't know about this, Sirius,” Peter said, “I'm not ready, I don't think I can do this.”

“It's just a little jump,” Sirius said encouragingly, “you can do this.”

After a few nerve wracking deep breaths Peter gave him the smallest nod one could manage.

“We'll go on three,” Sirius said, “Ready? One—”

“AaHH!”

Sirius shoved Peter off the ledge, knowing he wouldn't jump on his own, before taking the plunge himself. Peter's screams became higher and higher pitched as he shrank at an alarming speed, almost an undetectable size by the time he hit the grass. A small brown rat scurried across the field towards you and Lupin.

The stag in front of you made a sound, dragging his hooves across the grass in what you could imagine as James' unadulterated laughter at his friend.

Sirius began to morph almost as soon as he left the ground, something you were surprised by. He landed on his hind legs, landing gracefully as his front two followed, and a shaggy black dog looked back at you with mischief in its eyes.

You couldn't help but go over and pet him. You laughed as he nudged you with his nose, a resistance that was quickly halted as soon as you started scratching him behind the ears.

“I have to say, I didn't think you would actually manage that on your first try,” you said, secretly prouder than they could have known, “but if anyone could have done it, it's you three stubborn goons.”

James huffed as he saw you continue to pet Sirius, using his antlers to prod the dog out of the way. Sirius barked, lunging at him playfully. It was quite a scene to see the two interact.

“Honestly, this is a pretty solid group,” you said, “you've got James who blends perfectly with the surrounding wildlife so he wouldn't be suspicions, Sirius who could probably do a fair bit of damage as a dog if he needed, and Peter who can fit through small spaces and snoop around the castle virtually undetected.”

“Quite an odd pack,” Remus chuckled.

“Definitely,” you agreed, “but a pack nonetheless.”

And that very week, Remus Lupin was able to spend his first night as a werewolf with his four friends by his side.

__________________________________________________________

“So, how did we choose which animals we turn into?” James had asked you the next day at breakfast, “I specifically tried for a dragon.”

“You don't get to choose,” you rolled your eyes, “You're a stag, that's the end of it. It's pretty much up to chance.”

“I'm sorry, you're telling me I could have turned into a fish and died right there on the ground?!”

“If only,” you sighed dreamily, earning you a playful shove from James. “Alright, it's not completely random, but you're definitely in the unknown the first time you turn,” you went on to explain, “and once you turn for the first time, that's it. That's your animal. A wizard takes on the animagus form of whatever animal most closely resembles their personality. So, a horny bastard for James, a loyal little puppy for Sirius—”

“A bitch for you,” Sirius quipped.

“Never heard that one before,” you scoffed, purposefully messing up his hair.

“Hey, watch it!” he shoved you off him, twisting each of his curls back into form.

“Well, look who's a high maintenance pup,” you chuckled.

Around the same time that year, you finally completed the map. It came together beautifully, each different way of folding the paper revealing a different level of the castle for easy navigation. You'd included the surrounding forests as well as the parts of Hogsmeade that applied for the secret passageways, all of which were marked with symbols and the unique names you'd all come up with. Every student and staff member at Hogwarts had a tiny scroll with their name that appeared in their location. Remus had added the nice detail of including footprints at the last second, so you could see which way they were facing and walking as well. It was fireproof, rip proof, and prone to insulting anyone else who tried to read it. It was the pinnacle of your magical (and slightly illegal) achievement.

“We should write our names on it,” James said, looking down proudly at the finished map, “it belongs to us, after all. We don't want anyone else taking the credit.”

“Yeah, fantastic way to get caught,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “what if Filch comes across it? That's like leaving your signature at a murder scene.”

“You should use code names, then,” you suggested, “I know you guys call Remus 'Moony' as a joke, but I kind of like it.”

The scarred boy blushed lightly at the compliment, a brow raised to his other three friends.

“Alright then, I guess you should all say hi to Rudolph over here,” Sirius said, jutting his thumb in James' direction. The bespectacled boy narrowed his eyes before shooting back.

“Right! And this is my good friend, Snuffles.”

Sirius lunged at him and James swatted him away in laughter.

“Come on, you two,” Remus said, “or we won't put anything down for you at all.”

“I've got an idea for Peter,” you piped in, “When my mom used to garden she said she didn't mind having rats there because their tails resembled worms, which were an old a sign of healthy soil, I know it's odd, but I think Wormtail sounds pretty cool.”

Peter seemed to perk up at your acknowledgment and nodded. It suited him somehow.

“Should we pick animal features too, then?” James mused, “I guess Antlers doesn't really sound that cool. What's another word? Horns? Give me some analogies, guys. What else do they look like?”

“Yours honestly kind of look like a couple of bent forks,” you snickered.

“Prongs?” Sirius snorted, the laughter that followed nearly splitting his sides.

“Oh, go on, what have you got then?” James scoffed.

“I was thinking Padfoot,” Sirius said, “like a dog's paw prints.”

“You know, for someone who was just making fun of code names a second ago you sure have given a lot of thought to yours,” you teased.

“Shove it,” he smirked, “What about you? Can't very well have a second Moony.”

You stared at him in momentary disbelief.

“Me?”

“Well, yeah,” Sirius chuckled.

“We couldn't have done any of this without you,” Remus reminded you with a smile.

“I think you've more than earned an honorary title as one of us,” James said.

“That is, if you want to,” Peter said timidly.

You looked at the four of them, genuinely touched.

“I. . . I don't know what to say,” you smiled.

“You could say 'yes',” James piped up.

“Alright, you loons,” you laughed, “if you leave Severus alone for good, then yes.”

“Hey, I think we've been pretty good about that lately,” James pouted.

“Yes you have,” you admitted, “It's the only reason I bothered to give you the time of day, but this time it's a promise.”

James rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was undeniable. He'd never admit it out loud, but being friends with you was more fun than messing with Snape ever was.

“Alright, fine. (Y/n) (L/n), I solemnly swear that I will leave tormenting our dear old friend Snivelus behind us forever,” he said dramatically, putting a hand up at his pledge.

“Oh, bother,” you laughed, “the only thing you'll 'solemnly swear' to is that you're up to no good.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Then that's settled,” Remus smiled, “you'll need a code name too.”

“Let's see,” Sirius hummed in thought, “What other defining features do wolves have besides. . . well, their. . . fangs?”

“They're canines, you numbnut,” you huffed.

“Close enough, I'm writing Fangs.”

“Oi, I didn't agree to that!”

“Too bad, I'm already writing it~”

“Okay, well if that's the stupid name I'm getting saddled with them I'm going to write it myself,” you said stubbornly. You actually didn't mind the name at all.

“Well that's it, then,” James said, “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs. We could join the bloody circus.”

“All we need is a group name,” you said, half joking.

“We've already got one,” James said proudly.

“Oh? Let's hear it, then.”

“The Marauders.”

“. . .”

You kept your face straight for exactly three seconds before you burst out laughing. The four boys flushed with embarrassment.

“The Marauders?” you chortled, “what are you, pirates?”

“It's what McGonnagall called us the first time we got ourselves into proper trouble,” James defended himself, his cheeks reddening, “You rowdy mob of marauders, she'd said.”

“Huh,” you chuckled, coming down from your laughing fit, “Well, then I suppose that would make this The Marauders Map. I'll admit, it actually kinda has a ring to it.”

And despite your group's joking quips and bickering, they couldn't agree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait,” Harry said, eyes wide at your story, “So, my dad was an animagus too?”

“Sure was,” you smiled warmly.

“This whole time I thought 'Prongs' was just because his patronus was a stag.”

“Your animagus form is usually the same animal as your patronus,” you explained, “In some very rare cases they can be different, but they work in the same emotionally driven vein of magical ability, so it would make sense that they'd be linked. Your father was extraordinary at both, because as much as he would deny it, he felt everything very deeply.”

Your eyes drifted to the wall opposite you in the living room, and a small but sad smile graced your features.

“Love is often the most powerful emotion a witch or wizard can draw from,” you said softly, “but you already know that.”

Harry followed your gaze over his shoulder. There, posted on the wall among a collage of photographs from the Order was a picture of his mother and father. It was one he'd seen a hundred times, and one he had his own copy of: them in each others' arms in a London park, autumn leaves swirling around them as they danced without any music. Even from this distance he could see the emotion in their eyes as they looked at one another— like they were the only two people in the world.

“Yeah,” Harry said, wiping a stray tear from his eyes, “I do.”

Read chapter 7 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1

#Harry Potter #the marauders #harry potter x reader #marauders x reader #severus snape x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #james potter x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #regulus black #james potter #severus snape #snape x reader #snape x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #harry potter reader insert #maraduers reader insert #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #snape x you #multi chapter #love triangle #remus lupin x you

[marypsue]

For the fic ask thing: Question 1, 3, 5

from this meme

1. Is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

Yes.

3. Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How far along are you with them?

I always have way too many upcoming WIPs. In order of how close (I think) they are to finished, though:

The Monster Stranger Things Longfic, currently titled the road goes ever on, is about...a third of the way through the final chapter? And then it needs extensive second-draft work, so it may not be ready to post until after I’ve finished

The sequel to the kids aren’t alright, currently titled put your curse in reverse. I’m currently drafting chapter 12 of what I had roughly outlined to be 14 chapters, though it’s looking like it might end up being closer to 15 or 16. I am always, always guilty of fic sprawl. This one is going to need less second-draft overhauling, though, so it might be ready to post before the monster longfic is. 

This Bob/Joyce/Hopper time loop fic I’m calling how many times (do you want to die), which I thought at first would probably be much too angsty a title for what was going to be quite a silly little fic and then...I actually thought about what it would be like to have to live through the demodog attack on the Hawkins lab over...and over...and over...again. I am on the final loop and trying to figure out how the hell to solve the entirety of season 2 in one day without Kali who I sadly could not figure out a way to fit in, but once I do...it’s over for you bitches.

The Stranger Things ageswap AU which has the working title that same small town in each of us, which I’ve actually posted some samples from! (There are also some samples from the monster longfic in this tag, too. I really should have consistent tags for posts about each of my WIPs. That would be smart.) I have no idea when this is going to be finished, because I’m still trying to figure out a good chunk of the middle, but I have most of Nancy’s plot sorted and one really great scene for her for the ending that I really want to get to, so it’ll happen eventually.

The sequel to the sequel to the kids aren’t alright, which has the working title former heroes who quit too late. It’s got an extensive outline and I am very very very excited about some of the things I’m planning with it because I think I’ve figured out how to solve some of the major issues I had with s3 in canon. 

The Nancy/Jonathan/Steve bodyswap fic that I mentioned in a previous post, which has the working title why can’t we be ourselves like we were yesterday, which comes from New Order’s ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’, the theme song for OT3s in the 80s. I don’t know what the...actual...content of this one is beyond the four scenes I’ve written and the vague impression I have of what each of the characters needs to take away from the experience. I’ll get back to you on whether it’s ever actually going to get finished. 

(And also I need to finish Something Borrowed, Something Blues. I should also finish Imbalance, but...I’m starting to feel like that may have become impossible due to circumstances beyond my control.)

(Also also, I have not given up on finishing that original piece about the changeling and the AI who fall in love and also there’s King Arthur and superheroes. I’m very attached to it, It’s just...I’m going to remain very attached to it even after I’ve cooled a little on cranking out AU after AU for Stranger Things.)

5. Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

Have a scene from the bodyswap fic because otherwise I don’t know if it will ever see the light of day.

Jonathan really hopes Family Video makes its employees wear nametags. Otherwise, he’s not sure he’s going to know who ‘Robin’ is.

He shouldn’t have worried, though. Because he recognises the girl behind the counter when he comes rushing in, from the mall. And she recognises him, too, by the way she frowns. “Harrington! It’s two minutes to nine. What happened?”

“I thought my shift didn’t start until nine?” Jonathan asks, mentally cursing Steve for not keeping better track of what time his shift starts and Nancy’s mom for holding him up and whatever mysterious Upside Down bullshit put them in this predicament in the first place.

Robin frowns a little more. “Yeah, dingus. You’re two whole minutes early. If you’re gunning for my Employee of the Month title, you’d better be ready to do better than that. I’ve got this one sewn up.” She reaches across the counter to ruffle Jonathan’s – well, technically Steve’s – hair, and Jonathan jerks backwards in shock. Robin takes it in stride. “And your lustrous locks are somewhat lacking this morning. Where’s your vest?”

“My what?”

Robin tugs at the ugly green polyester vest she’s wearing with a knowing smile. “I knew something’d have to give to get you here any earlier than five minutes late.” The words are accusatory, but the way she delivers them is – fond. “C’mon, I’m sure Keith’s got a spare kicking around somewhere. Can’t help you with the hair, though.”

“That’s all right,” Jonathan says, sounding a little faint to his own ears. He hadn’t realised Steve had made an actual friend his own age. Last he’d heard, via Nancy, Steve was still spending most of his free time acting as the president of the local Babysitters’ Club.

Jonathan’s got to admit it’s a weird relief, though. He’d felt – maybe just a little guilty, when Nancy’d dumped Steve and Steve had immediately stolen Jonathan’s former title as Hawkins High’s biggest loner. Without King Steve making them untouchable, the asshole power couple of Tommy H and Carol had lost a little of the asshole and a lot of the power. Jonathan can’t honestly say he was disappointed. The fact that, once he’d ditched them, Steve might not have any other actual friends except for Nancy hadn’t even occurred to Jonathan until it was too late.

Robin’s still looking suspiciously at him. Jonathan swallows, hard. “I’m – trying something new. With the hair.”

“Yeah?” Robin gives the top of his head a long, assessing look. “Try something else.”

#chatter #this is so late ha ha haaaaaaa #somehow deciding to write the whole thing before posting any of it has made finding titles easier #or maybe that's just the leaning into the titling everything with song lyrics #either way i have more titles than i have complete outlines #every time i'm like 'i am going to share a snippet! something that's good!' i open up the WIP documents and stare at them like #wow I have never written anything worth sharing with anyone else ever in my life #this is mary's fic tag #why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday

[drkoestersmithrpg]

worked a little on this

Bad Day

He had flunked the final.  He knew it.  There was no arguing about it.  He didn’t have the strength to argue.  He would have moved heaven and earth NOT to admit it, but the time had come to admit it.  He couldn’t take 21 hours and make good grades.  

Well, maybe he could… but he had forgotten VERY one important thing.

Well… two important things.

One - he was Spider-Man.  And he could create and recreate and recalibrate schedules all day every day, but the criminals of New York City just never seemed to listen.

And number two, he was dating THE Tony Stark.

Add all these factors into the equation and what did that add up to?  Well probably an equation that he couldn’t solve because he was an idiot who flunked his final and would never get his math major, that’s what.

As he stomped through the snow back to his dormroom from Dale Hall (okay that was a lie, he was too dejected to stomp, he was too broken to stomp) he cursed everything about his life.  He knew he could have aced all his classes if he didn’t have Spider-Man duties.  He knew he would be an excellent Spider-Man if he wasn’t trying to ace all his classes.  And maybe… just maybe… just maybe he COULD do both of those things, and do them well, if he didn’t have a full-time serious boyfriend…

It hit him like lightening.  Like scripture.  It was the sudden and complete definition of epiphany.  He stopped in his tracks and pulled out his phone.  Actually stepped off the sidewalk, stood in the falling snow, and dropped his backpack onto the icy pavement and texted furiously.  Texted before he could think about it.

                                                         //Are we on for tonight?// 

he texted to said full-time serious boyfriend.

Quickly.  That was the key.  Quickly, before he had time to chicken out.

                                                 //Because I need something.//

Don’t think just text don’t think just text text fast before you think 

                        //I’m really hoping you can Take Care Of Me tonight.//

   He hurried through the frozen campus back to his dormroom.  There were some essentials he had to take care of before he could show up at the penthouse, and he rushed through them.  The faster they were done, the less time to stress out.   The faster he got to Tony’s place, the less time he had to live with that knot in his stomach.  

And the knot in his stomach - he knew exactly what that was about.  It happened every time there was a scheduled ‘take care of me’ night.  It wasn’t the knot of apprehension, it was the knot of doubt.  

The doubt of “am-I-really-going-to-go-through-with-this?” 

And there was only one way to get rid of THAT knot, Peter knew.  And that was to get his ass over to the penthouse.  Once he rode up that elevator (or in through the suit-pad door.  When he webslung his way over there, he just entered through the suit-pad door.  And that’s what he was doing today.  It was worse than freezing in the skies of NYC, but he’d chicken out in the time it took to take the elevator) and walked into Tony’s arms, well, that’s when the knot always let go.  Not because he wasn’t still nervous.  But because, by walking into Tony’s arms, he had committed.  From then on, whatever Tony wanted, Peter would do.

And that still made him nervous.  He couldn’t help it.  When Tony wanted to “take care of him” in that special way… well… it just made Peter nervous.  Not because it was scary (oh, but it was) but because it was so intense.  That’s why they didn’t do it very often… only for special occasions.

And fucking up his Differential Equations final?  Well, if there was ever a special occasion, this was it.

 * * * 

 [that purse sntacher that PEter caught sight of ont hew ay there had to be th emost unlucky criminal in the whole world.  When he gets all those lose ends tighed up he finds Tony already there, ready for him.  He tears up and sinks into Tony’s arms.  “I fucked up.”  Tony has ordered food - Peter was hoping to be hand-fed, god he didn’t even REALIZE how badly he wants it, not that he wants yogurt and apple sauce but because the LAST THING he wants is to sit down at a dinner and act like an adult and eat with a fork and talk … OH GOD he REALY doesn’t want to talk about had badly he screwed himself and proved that he really couldn’t take on this massive corseload AND be a good boyfriend AND an avdnger, he REALY doesn’t want to have this conversation with the dude who graduated from MIT at 17… then Tony says I’ll cut the pad thair for you, would you like your coco first?  Peter smiles.  Is there wonton soup?  OF COURSE there is…

I’m going to take care of you baby.

     “No, the fuzzy one.”  Peter pouted, as he snuggled against the soft grey pillows, snuggled under the soft grey throw.  He wasn’t entirely sure that Tony had bought this new sectional just for the “Take Care Of You” game, but Tony had bought this particular sectional right after the first “Take Care Of You” game, and he wasn’t sure they had used it for any other purpose.

The look on Tony’s face now made him giggle.  Peter wasn’t drunk, but he felt drunk, and it was a lovely sensation.   

“I thought you didn’t like the ‘fuzzy’ one,” Tony said indulgently, still looking at him strangely. Peter couldn’t deny that this was the case.  The special blanket Tony had bought (and he had bought it for the “Take Care Of You” game, there was no denying that) Peter had found far too irritating.  He had complained, at the time, that it was his spider-senses, an annoying side-effect of his superpowers, making certain tactile input just too much to handle.  But that hadn’t been entirely true.  He had rejected the blanket had because it had felt too childish.  He couldn’t say why.  Maybe because the grey [description of Eeyore.]  ?  And while he had accepted almost al of the aspects of the game [be helpless, being out of control] being childish wasn’t something he felt comfortable with.  Even when he was being spoon-fed marshmallows from his cocoa.

But he also couldn’t explain why tonight was different.

So he didn’t try.

“I just want the fuzzy one tonight,” he said again, trying, this time, to sound more coherent.  More adult.  “Tonight is special.”

Tony considered, nodded, then wordlessly took the black comforter back to the closet and searched for the original grey blanket.  Behind him, Peter hid his face in the pillows.  Dammit, why did he have to day that?  “Tonight is special?”  How the hell was he going to explain that tonight was “special” and that “special” meant “I Fucked Up Royally and I’m Going To Get My First Bad Grade In My Life?”  Let alone the part where [“ there’s no one he can explain that to because ALL they will say is that he shouldn’t have taken so many hours so soon and he wasn’t want to hear that.]

Of course, maybe he didn’t have to explain.  Maybe it wouldn’t come up.  He distracted himself by looking at the hot coco now steaming in a grey cup on the table. He could reach out for it himself, but no… it would be so much sweeter to wait and let Tony come and feed it too him. He marveled, not for the first time, how the [he’s waiting for Tony to come and feed it to him.  He marvels how the grey blanket and the grey sectional match the grey cup - Tony put so much though into this.  He’s REALLY going to let Tony have his way tonight.]

Tony had put the remote control in his hand when he had led him to the sofa, but Peter had let it fall to the floor.  He had started to look for something to watch, but turned off the screen when he realized, with a start, that he was looking for some old cartoons to watch.  He hoped Tony wouldn’t notice.  Sometimes they snuggled on the couch and watched movies before the “Taking Care” game began.  Peter hoped they could skip that tonight.  Tonight he was in bad shape.

Which was ridiculous… absurd that a potential bad grade could make him feel more pain than grievous physical injury ever could.  

But in the end, weren’t they both just signs of his complete failure?

 He started to tear up even now – oh god Tony never asked him WHY he needed the game tonight, and he wasn’t sure what he would do if Tony asked the question.  But this was ridiculous – Tony couldn’t find him in tears, or he really would ask.  Peter looked for the clicker in an effort to distract himself.  He had to calm down.  He took deep breaths and tried to distract himself.  Doing [something involving differential equations] in his head didn’t help.  He settled for going over the rules of the game.  

(sees it like an outline, like a syllabus that ridiculous professor gave them that rambled on and made no sense?  No, no, he wasn’t going to blame his professor for his colossal failure.)

 Rule #1:  Safety Word

The safety word was ‘foot cramp,’ although Peter had stopped it before just by saying “I need a break.” Tony was always ready to back up, knowing they would resume after Peter had pulled away long enough to breathe a little (or to take over for a moment.  Usually kissing Tony hard, just for a minute, was all it took.)  

Rule #2:  Words, Code Words and the 3rd Person

They had established that soft food was too much, and that regular food, cut into tiny bits, would still work.  It was the hand-feeding that mattered.  The word “baby” was all right, as long as it wasn’t in the 3rd person.  So “messy baby” and “does that feel good baby?” were alright, but “Does baby want his _____ (noodles, cup, blanket) now?” was out.  

The word “daddy” was alright, although it would only be used Tony.  And it was alright for Tony to refer to himself in the third person (“Can daddy make you feel good?” was alright.  And “Will you be a good boy for Daddy?” made Peter weak in the knees.)

Peter never used the word “Daddy,” of course.  Although he had tried to do it, because he knew Tony wanted it, it just never came. He reasoned that the word didn’t mean anything to him.  He had no member of ever calling anyone ‘daddy,’ ever.  

Rule #3:  Codes

“Is my baby okay?” was a status check, and while it was not a rule, Peter had learned that Tony would trust his answer better if Peter didn’t answer automatically.  If he stopped, took a breath, and then nodded yes [ Tony trusted that he was telling the truth.]

“My tummy hurts” was code to indicate that he was still in the nervous stage, which meant Tony would slow down, or else another back rub was in order.  Sometimes both.

There were other rules, too, rules that they never talked about.  [He KNOWS Tony wants him to engage in baby-talk, tony never comes out and asks but Peter can get the hint.  The BEST he can do is uh-uh and uh-hu and nodding and shaking his head (he’s perfected the art of closing his eyes tight and shaking his head to say ‘no’ a move which is is proud of.)  

Four-letter words were out, but slipping up was NOT indication that the game is over (ideally, Tony said, the game wasn’t over until Peter had fallen asleep.)  And it was generally agreed at if Peter cried out “oh fuck that feels good tony” it was Tony’s own fault for being so damn good.

[meteora-writes]

We Could Be Perfect One Last Night ch.6

Fandom: Hannibal Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham Warnings: Mild Angst, Silly Accents, Snark, Original Characters, More Snark Chapter: 6. We’re Not Celebrities Description: Six days after they arrive at the cabin Hannibal takes a trip to gather more supplies and reaches out to Chiyoh for assistance. Authors Notes: So I was going to add a scene with Jack in this chapter, but it was running long and I scrapped it for now. Hope you all enjoy. Read on AO3

~~~~~ Read Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5~~~~~

“You’re sure you want to go alone?” Will asks for the third time since Hannibal announced he would be taking the motorcycle and heading into town to purchase a disposable phone at one of the mini-marts they passed on the way to the cabin six days prior.

After two days of snow and another four days of low temperatures, the weather had finally warmed enough to melt away the majority of the snow and ice that covered the dirt road that connects the cabin back to the highway. It’s a three-mile stretch. And another four to the closest shop. So they’ve had to wait for the weather to be on their side before either of them could attempt to go anywhere.

“Will, you know as well as I that the authorities are likely looking for us. If only one of us goes out at a time we are far less likely to be noticed. I should only be gone a half-hour at most.” Hannibal looks a touch amused by Will’s worries as he buttons the cuffs of his leather jacket. There’s a hint of mirthfulness in his eyes that’s hard to miss.

“Maybe I should go instead. You do have a fairly distinct accent. If you speak around the wrong people they could call the police,” Will finds himself suggesting. In truth, he doesn’t want either of them to go. But they’re running low on food and they need a phone to reach out to Chiyoh sooner than later.

Hannibal chuckles and shakes his head as he finishes buttoning his cuffs and quickly zips his jacket. “I am perfectly capable of concealing my accent when the situation calls for it,” he informs Will in an almost perfect British accent. “Or would you prefer I try to sound more like you, perhaps?” he tries in a more Americanized pronunciation. It doesn’t quite work, though. One would almost think it was a New England accent, except the vowels still sounding too European in pronunciation.

Will can’t help himself when Hannibal tries to imitate an American accent, the urge to mess with the other man is just too strong to resist. “Not bad, cher. Sept I don’t tink you got dem vowels quite right. Might get people askin’ who dat if you not careful now.” The slightly over-exaggerated thick Cajun accent gets a look of clear surprise from Hannibal that has Will trying hard not to bust out laughing by the time he finishes speaking the words. “Mo chagren,” he adds with a grin that pulls painfully at the stitches in his cheek before going on. “I’m from Louisiana. I speak as clear and concisely as I do exactly because I knew no one would take me seriously if I spoke in that dialect or even just that accent this far east.”

“Shame. I would love to hear you speak French more often,” Hannibal laments with a small smile that’s all teasing. It earns him a hint of pink in Will’s cheeks that only makes his smile grow.

“Unfortunately my French is abysmal at best,” Will informs him before clearing his throat a bit awkwardly. “We only ever spoke it when visiting my grandparents and cousins for the holidays, and that was over twenty years ago,” Will adds with a shake of his head as he avoids looking Hannibal in the eyes. “Just, be careful. Okay?”

“Of course.” Is all Hannibal says in return before he heads out the door.

Will watches him take off, not looking away until the motorcycle is out of sight. He knows Hannibal going on this run is necessary. That they need food and that phone. But that doesn’t change the anxiety he feels at Hannibal going without him.

They’re both recovering slowly. Hannibal still can’t stand for too long, but he can do so for long enough that this run shouldn’t be a problem. Part of Will worries it’ll be too much, but he trusts Hannibal to know his own limits. As for Will, he still can’t get up from a horizontal or even a sitting position without his head feeling like it’s going to explode, which is apparently common for skull fractures. He’ll take that over the irritating feel of stitches in his mouth any day.

The only thing that’s helped him stay sane, aside from talking with Hannibal about nothing important, is the tackle box of fishing supplies he found in the rafters on the second day of the storm. There were enough supplies inside for him to make a dozen lures with plenty of odds and ends to spare. He would have made more, but without his glasses or a magnifying glass to help him work on the smaller details, he’s been working at a snail’s pace.

He eyes the lures where they rest on the wooden table in the center of the room. Hannibal had taken to watching him work from the couch more often than not, usually with that notebook in his lap as he continued to sketch. Will didn’t ask what he was sketching after the first day. He figures it’s a toss-up between Will being his continued subject, or he’s drawing places he’s been or other people he’s seen.

The notebook rests beside the tackle box. It’s open. Page showing a half-drawn landscape that Will doesn’t recognize. Curiosity gets the better of him after a moment and he picks the book up to get a closer look.

It’s a meadow by a stream. Dozens of tiny flowers stretching out over the page until they meet a rocky riverbed. The rocks and pebbles have the most detail so far. The flowers only faint outlines. The detail of the river is what really surprises Will. It has shading to it that in the right light makes it look like the water is moving.

After a moment, he flips the page back, wondering what else Hannibal could have been drawing these past few days.

Sure enough, there are a few sketches of Will in with various cities and landscapes. Not all are finished, like his inspiration shifted mid drawing and he had to move on to something else until later.

The drawing Hannibal made their first night in the cabin has Will sitting down and studying it in awe. It’s the most detailed of the ones in the book. Capturing even the smallest details of the setting. The wrinkles in the shirt Will wore that was too big for him. The bit of torn leather on the back of the couch he had been tugging at mindlessly. The shadows cast by the firelight to his back. Even the faint bruises and scrapes on his hands and arms are there.

Despite it being a portrait of himself, Will feels like he’s invading Hannibal’s privacy looking at it like this. He flips the book closed and sets it down beside the tackle box once more before running his hands through his shaggy brown curls. He suddenly feels like the cabin is too small. Like he needs to get out.

He throws on his boots and jacket quickly, not bothering with gloves or any other layers to help him keep warm in his rush to just get up and go.

It’s early afternoon. Sun warm in the sky above. But it’s still only in the forties out and there’s a bit of a breeze that makes it feel just as cold as it actually is. Will feels like the wind cuts right through him the minute he steps out into it. It’s a welcome sensation. Letting him draw a deep breath in through his nose that fills his lungs and calms his nerves.

There’s a shed behind the cabin. Hannibal had moved the motorcycle in there before the storm hit. Will hasn’t taken a look inside before now and he’s a bit disappointed by its contents. There isn’t much to be found. Some old tools, metal buckets, a large hatchet, and a rusty jerry can.

Eyeing the hatchet a moment, Will grabs it and turns to the stack of wood beside the house. It’s mostly down to larger pieces. Ones that need splitting. Hannibal had said they would be fine for a while with what was already broken down. But Will doubts it, eyeing the pile now for himself.

It’s stupid, he knows it is. But he needs to do something with himself. So, he grabs a piece of wood, gets it set out on a nearby stump that’s clearly where the previous occupants of the cabin cut wood before, and swings.

His shoulder protests the action. Arm twitching at the use of muscles and tendons that aren’t ready for this kind of movement. The pain it causes is grounding, though. So, he shakes the ax free from where it stuck in the wood, fixes it’s position on the stump, and swings again. This time cutting the wood clean through the center. The pieces fall to either side of the stump, clattering on the frozen ground.

“Still got it…” Will mutters to himself before he picks the pieces up and tosses them onto the short end of the pile beside the house. Hannibal will likely give him hell for this when he returns. But that’s a problem for later. He sets up the next piece of wood with a small smile to himself and gets ready for a workout.

~~~~~

The mini-mart is busy when Hannibal pulls up and parks on the far side of the lot. It’s a relief. Busy shops mean less likelihood of being noticed unless you act out of the ordinary. One of the things he prides himself on is his ability to act normal even in the most unusual of circumstances.

There are a few old bikers in the lot. Talking outside the front door as they smoke cigarettes and stand around their bikes. One spot Hannibal as he sets his helmet on the handlebars of his bike and grins.

“Nice ride,” the older man calls out as he nods to the motorcycle beside Hannibal.

“Thanks,” Hannibal calls back, taking care with how he pronounces the word to make it sound more Americanized. “Nice jacket,” he adds when he notices the various patches on the jacket denoting the man as being part of a group that he’s read about in news articles that helps protect children that were victims of abuse. He may find the culture to be crude, but what they do with their time is admirable.

The biker grins at the compliment, sporting a few missing and broken teeth that look like the guy might have lost in an accident at some point. Other than that they don’t say anything and neither does his buddies as Hannibal walks past.

The shop is a decent size on the inside. Sporting a liquor section and impressive deli and fresh food area. It’s almost all junk. But it has vegetables and fruit, of which Hannibal is grateful. He grabs a basket and makes a b-line for the small aisle with the disposable phones and other odds and ends first.

He scans over the tops of the shelves as he walks, observing his surroundings and the other patrons as he starts filling the basket with goods. There are three cashiers working. Half a dozen other customers milling about, two more talking by the soda fountain in the back of the deli area, and another three at the registers buying whatever it is they came to buy.

Nobody pays anybody else any mind. Even the workers seem disinterested in everyone else. It’s reassuring. As is the fact that he only sees a single security camera and it’s pointed at the registers. He can easily stand so that his face isn’t in view and just make it look like he’s simply distracted.

There’s a stack of newspapers by the case the freshly made sandwiches are kept in, and Hannibal grabs one of each along with a few days worth of fruit and sandwiches. He’s already grabbed them some more drinks, not trusting the water from the well and not wanting to have to boil it every time they need some. And much as he dislikes it, he also grabbed some more cans of soup.

Thankfully, though, this shop also had a dairy case with eggs and breakfast meats inside, which means he can cook a real meal for a change. In the end, he has much more than he intended to buy. But he wants to be able to make at least a few meals that aren’t made from cans and boxes or were pre-made by someone in a hairnet.

“Feeding an army?” the cashier asks as she begins to ring up and bag everything. She’s in her late teens, clearly bored and not even really paying attention as she works. For a second it strikes Hannibal how much she looks like Abigail and he has to shake the thought off before he can say anything.

“Lost power in that storm. Need some things to hold us over until they get it up and running again,” Hannibal explains in as dismissive a tone as possible while maintaining the accent he’s going for.

“You must live pretty far out if you don’t have power back yet,” she notes, still not really paying him any mind.

That makes Hannibal huff a laugh and he almost turns to face her fully but stops himself so his face isn’t in view of the camera. He doesn’t answer her, and the girl doesn’t say anything else until everything is run up and bagged.

He pays her and hooks the various plastic bags over his arms before heading back outside.

The bikers are still standing around chatting, several looking over to give him a nod of approval for his choice of a ride once more as he heads to his bike and gets ready to leave.

The ride back is faster than his ride out. Anxious to get back to Will and to take a look at the papers he picked up. He also grabbed the more expensive disposable phone the shop had on the shelf. It’s a smartphone with internet capabilities. One he hopes will still have a decent connection this far from town. He would very much like to see what Freddie Lounds has written about himself and Will at this point.

The sight he arrived back to is an unexpected one.

Will is outside. Jacket off and sleeves of his dark red flannel shirt rolled up his forearms as he chops wood beside the cabin. He’s been at it for a while. Damp curls sticking to his forehead with sweat. He doesn’t pause in his work even as Hannibal pulls up a few feet away and parks the bike.

“You’ll tear your stitches,” Hannibal chides gently as he removes his helmet and studies Will with a tilt of his head.

“My stitches are fine,” Will huffs out as he swings the ax once more. He cuts clean through the log in one swing. His face is a mask of focus as he grabs the next piece and prepares to swing again like he isn’t recovering from multiple stab wounds and likely in a great deal of pain.

“Feeling a bit of cabin fever?” The question makes Will stop and tip his head back as if to look to the heavens and ask why he’s chosen to be with this man.

“I just needed some air,” Will explains with a shake of his head before laying the hatchet beside the tree stump he’s been using as a chopping block. “I take it your shopping trip went well?”

Hannibal nods as he finally climbs off the bike and grabs the plastic bags from where he had slung them over the handlebars. “It did,” he agrees as he holds a bag out of Will to carry. He takes it readily and follows Hannibal inside the cabin a moment later.

“Did you buy every paper in the store?” Will asks as he looks inside the bag. There are four different major newspapers, three local printings by smaller companies, and a single tabloid tucked under the cellphone and international phone card Hannibal had grabbed.

“I was curious to see what has been going on for the past several days,” Hannibal notes as he sets the two bags containing groceries on the small sideboard by the stove. “And I thought the reading material might be appreciated.”

Will snorts a laugh at that but says nothing as he steps up beside Hannibal, shooing him away to sit while Will puts things away.

Part of him wants to protest and assist in putting away their things, but he already feels his energy leaving him, so Hannibal goes and hangs up his jacket before taking his usual seat at the table. The bag with the phone and papers sits on the floor next to his chair, and he picks it up, pulling the phone from inside to begin removing it from its packaging.

“Is there anything in particular that I should ask Chiyoh to acquire for you while she’s making preparations for us?” Hannibal asks once he has the phone powered on and is waiting for the activation signal to go through.

Will glances over his shoulder at Hannibal from his place kneeling in front of the mini-fridge. “A pair of glasses? It’s going to be hard to read navigation charts without them,” It’s a minor inconvenience, but still one he would rather not deal with. He gets a migraine if he tries to read for too long without his glasses. He’s already got a near-constant one thanks to the fracture in his skull from being stabbed.

Humming his understanding, Hannibal looks back to the phone in his hands. He was never a fan of mobile phones. Too easy to track a person by or interrupt one's plans. At the moment, however, he sees it as a necessity they have to hold onto, at least if he’s able to contact Chiyoh.

The number he calls once the phone is activated is one he’s had memorized for ages. It goes to a small shop in England that an old family friend of his aunt owns. It’s run by her granddaughter now. She’s well aware of who Hannibal is and what he’s done. She only owns the shop now because of an unfortunate incident with her grandfather some ten years ago that left him comatose and her and her grandmother free of his abuse for the first time in their lives.

“Lorelai’s Sweets, how can I help you?” A familiar, warm alto voice answers after two rings.

“Hello, Lori,” he greets back, his own tone just as warm. She was always a kind girl and it seems that hasn’t changed in the years since he saw her last.

Will pauses in his putting away of their supplies to look over at Hannibal as he speaks on the phone. Clearly a bit confused by Hannibal greeting someone that isn’t Chiyoh.

“Hanni! Oh, thank goodness you’re alive! They said on the news that you and that former special agent friend of yours had drowned after escaping and killing the Red Dragon!” The relief in her voice is oddly comforting. “Are you alright? What can I do for you, love?”

A small smile tugs at his lips over her concern. “A bit inconvenienced, but otherwise alright, thank you for asking. I’m calling because I need to reach Chiyoh, have the two of you stayed in contact?”

“Chiyoh? Oh, yes! She started coming round to visit just after you turned yourself in to the authorities. She was here for one of her visits just last week, in fact. Left the day you escaped. I believe she’s in Maryland right now,” Lori explains as she shuffles about the shop, no doubt in the process of closing for the evening since there is a five hour time difference between the east coast and London.

“Wonderful. I suspect I know where she is, then. Thank you for your help, Lori. I’ll call again if I require any further assistance in locating her.” He doesn’t think that will be necessary, though. If Chiyoh is in Maryland waiting to hear from him, she’s likely in the small house he set up in her name by Snow Hill. It’s over two hours drive from where they are now. Neither he nor Will is up for that in their current condition, so he’ll have to hope she answers.

“You’re welcome, Hannibal. And please, give me a call to let me know how you’re doing once in a while, would you?”

“I will. Thank you again for your help, Lori. Goodbye.” She says her goodbyes in return and with that, they both hang up.

Will is watching him when Hannibal turns his head, and Hannibal raises an eyebrow in question as he dials the number to where he believes Chiyoh to be located. The line rings once then goes to an automated voicemail box. “Hello, Chiyoh. Please call me when you receive this message.” he doesn’t leave the number because he knows she has callerID setup and the cheap mobile phone isn’t a private number.

“That’s it?” Will asks once Hannibal has hung up and set the phone down on the table.

“That’s it,” Hannibal reiterates before reaching for the first of the papers he had purchased. “We made international news, it would seem. It was reported that we drown together after killing our Dragon,” he informs Will as he unfolds the paper and skims the headlines.

“Seriously? Somebody higher up in the FBI had to have made that call. There’s no way that Jack would declare us dead without physical evidence,” Will balks as he closes the mini-fridge and moves to join Hannibal at the table. He ends up grabbing one of the other papers and starting to skim for any articles about the two of them as Hannibal starts reading his own paper from the beginning.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps they declared us dead in the hopes we would become careless and slip up in the belief that they are no longer looking for us.” He doesn’t honestly believe that. But it wouldn’t surprise him if somebody other than Jack was pulling the strings in the hopes that would be the case. “Either way it seems a bit foolish on their part.”

By the time Will has checked the last paper, Hannibal has finished reading the first one in its entirety. He quirks a brow at Will upon seeing the papers strewn haphazardly across the table.

“All these papers and there were only two articles about us,” Will notes as he folds one paper over to show a small article about how the search for their bodies is to be called off if they aren’t found the following day. The other article being in the paper Hannibal read, which was more substantial. Talking about the Chesapeake Ripper and former professor from the FBI academy at Quantico who took on the Red Dragon and lost their lives in the process of ending his murder spree.

“We’re not celebrities, Will. We spark and fade into obscurity, just as everyone else does,” Hannibal says as he folds his paper and sets it atop the messy pile Will has made of the others.

“That’s not as comforting as you think,” Will says with a sigh as he slouches in his chair a bit. His gaze drifts over to the fireplace, which needs lighting soon. The sun is starting to set and the cabin is growing colder.

“Operating under the assumption that neither of us survived so soon after our fall would imply that they found some kind of evidence to suggest as much,” Hannibal suggests as he watches Will get up and move to get a fire going.

Will pauses in front of the fireplace, hand hovering over a piece of wood as his brow furrows. He lets his hand drop to his side and closes his eyes in a way that Hannibal hasn’t seen in years but recognizes immediately. He’s recreating the scene in his mind. Using his memories of the night to reconstruct the scene.

“The camera,” Will eventually says. “It fell over sometime after he attacked me and left you alone inside the house. It was on the floor facing outside when we were fighting Dolarhyde. It likely caught most, if not all, of the fight. That combined with the sheer amount of blood we both lost at the scene and the bloody footprints we left leading up to the edge showing we fell from the bluffs would give enough evidence to suggest we didn’t survive.” His eyes are closed the entire time he speaks, head tilting and brow furrowing further as he relives the event in his mind. Blood spraying behind his eyelids as they move in almost a dance with the other man before it ends in his death.

“I knocked the camera over while getting to my feet,” Hannibal clarifies, causing Will to open his eyes and look over at him.

“You wanted it to record us,” Will realizes then, eyes going a bit narrow as he studies Hannibal. “You wanted there to be evidence of what happened with him.”

“How else would we prove you were defending yourself?” Hannibal counters easily. “I confess I had initially thought you would take out your gun and shoot him when given the opportunity. Play the part of the special agent doing his duty to stop a madman.”

Will snorts indignantly at that and turns his attention back to getting a fire started. “After everything we’ve been through, you really thought that was what I would do?”

“Three years is a long time to be apart from someone, Will. People change. You’ve changed, in some ways. I hold no illusions of knowing who you are anymore,” Hannibal says almost softly as he reaches out and grabs his notebook and pencil. He flips the book open to the half-finished meadow, eyes roaming over it a moment before he starts working on the flowers.

Will’s shoulders visibly sag as he lets his head drop forward. His eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. “I’m exactly who I’ve always been, Hannibal. Who you helped me to become. The only difference is that now...Now I’ve stopped fighting my true nature.”

When Hannibal looks over, Will is looking back. Blue eyes locking with amber brown in the faint light of the newly lit fire. “And that nature would be?”

To his credit, Will looks only momentarily annoyed by the question. “The nature that drives me to gut a man with his own knife rather than shoot him like any ordinary ex-cop with a firearm on him would have.”

Hannibal can’t help the genuine smile that breaks out at Will’s choice of words. “Do you regret your actions that night?”

“No.” Will doesn’t hesitate in answering. “I don’t regret anything about that night,” he adds before turning his gaze back to the fire.

Hannibal almost doesn’t believe that. Almost. The look in Will’s eyes as he turns away is clear. He doesn’t regret that night. He might be struggling with leaving the life he had and the family he built. But he doesn’t regret letting himself be who he really is for once. It leaves Hannibal feeling reassured. Content even. Knowing that Will isn’t running away from this. From him.

They’re finally beginning to see one another as Hannibal had once hoped they always would. As equals who share an understanding of one another and a taste for the beauty of blood and the suffering of those who are less than they are.

His mind wanders to Bedelia and Jack. To what kind of beauty he and Will could create from them. It sends a pleasant shiver down his spine imagining Will gutting Jack like he had gutted their Dragon. He’ll have to share that thought when the time comes for them to pay the man a visit. But for now, he’s content to simply imagine and enjoy the glow of the fire while Will feeds the flames and hums softly to himself. Now is a time for rest and recovery. Bloodshed and revenge can wait until another day.

Reach Chapter 7

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal x will #will x hannibal #hannibal lecter x will graham #will graham x hannibal #we could be perfect one last night #angst #snark #humor #murder husbands

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Do you have any tips for how you write your stories? I’ve been trying to write fan fiction and actual stories for awhile now but I can never commit to it and I always end up abandoning the story after I come up with something better. Do you have that same problem too? Also Limerence is the best, I stan a soft Zuko any day of the week

Hello, love~! 😊 I do have some tips, and they may not work for everyone, but they do help me, and hopefully you too!

The best way to view writing is like a relationship, and it seems to me you keep getting stuck in the honeymoon phase 😉

You know that giddy feeling you get when you meet someone? You’re wearing your heart-shaped glasses, completely infatuated with them?

That’s the same feeling many authors get when they get a new idea! It consumes their mind, and it’s all they think about (me included)!

But after the honeymoon stage, comes in the reality of the relationship.

You start seeing the flaws, and at this point, a lot of relationships end on the basis of ‘they weren’t the person I originally thought, I can do better.’ When in fact, that person was always there, you were just looking at them with heart-shaped glasses!

This is usually how authors feel after the rush of a new idea leaves, and they realize that they have an idea, and they have to actually write it.

The biggest tip I can recommend, for anyone - is writing a story outline. 

Write what you want your story to happen from the start, middle and end.

Include key events that MUST happen in order to move the plot forward from the start -> middle -> and end.

For me, outlines, before anything - is a key sign of whether or not I will write the story.

Whether or not I’m wearing those heart-shaped glasses, or I found gold!

If you have these outlines completed, and you’re still struggling to write a story (not because you’re struggling to find the right words) but you find your mind wandering off to other ideas - that’s a huge sign that maybe the idea isn’t worth pursuing. OR, you’re better off storing that idea for a rainy day or when you want to write something else for a change.

It’s tempting to write a full story upon every idea that pops into your head, I get that too a lot!

To solve that issue, I have a folder in my computer where I’ve written story outlines, drabbles, random pieces paragraphs/pages of stories I would love to write - but I never post anything. 

Limiting how many projects you have can be a blessing. Too many authors have 20+ stories in the works, none of them get completed because seeing all these W.I.P gets them so flustered! 

But, writing the same thing over and over again can totally burn you out.

I love Limerence, it's my baby - but even I can get tired! Hence, side-projects (Eden & Greek Mythology).

There has only been one real point in which I was ready to throw the towel for Limerence/Eden/Greek Mythology - and that was when my laptop crashed and I lost all my stories around 2 months ago. But not even a day later, after crying a damn river, I found myself writing again because I wanted to finish! No matter how many new ideas I think of before I go to bed, or in the shower - my mind always goes back to these three stories!

I highly encourage you to go through all those uncompleted stories, rough drafts, ideas - and create rough outlines.

If you find yourself spending a bit more time on a particular story outline, or rushing to complete a framework to work on another - these are all signs that either the idea you’re working on won’t be the flame under your butt to keep you going, or that you found an interesting plotline that you’re motivated to write!

It’s okay to go back and forth between stories, sometimes writing so much fluff (Limerence) gets to me, and I need to write some dark/sexy (Eden) themes. But I always find myself going back, even after taking a few days to break, even months.

You probably have stories of gold right under your nose, but the other awesome ideas stemming from your creative mind can make it harder to see the possibilities! 

I hope this helps you, even if just a bit!

Honestly, there’s no magical cure, or one right answer when it comes to writing! I can already imagine a bunch of people disagreeing with my points, while others may agree. But hopefully, this pushes you in the right direction, love!

Take care, @reesie8261~!

P.S. Soft Zuko for the win 🤭

#ask me anything #anon answered #writing #writing tips

[canumoveurseatup-no]

Voir Dire (alternate ending #2)

summary: some things are actually a bit different in this but y’all might hate me for this one too (read a/n)

pairings: ex!yandere!steve x black!reader ; stephen strange x black!reader

warnings: death, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, murder, mentions of vomit, OOC steve 

a/n: this one gets crazy. keep in mind, all of these endings (including the original) were outlined before i chose the OG ending to be the best fitting ending to the series. not all of the endings are happy. y’all wanted to see the alternate endings so here they are even if they rip your heart out more than the original :)

“Stephen, they got something,” Tony rushed into the conference room of the precinct and Stephen didn’t waste a second to follow him. They got to the lab and found Bailey standing by a member of his team who’s working the investigation. She was a small older woman but she seemed so nice and dedicated.

“This is one of my top analyst. Remember how I said Y/N might of left us a message?,” Bailey asks Stephen

“Yeah but she kept it short and simple. How could there possibly be a message?,”

Stephen was losing hope. He didn’t know things would turn out like this. He didn’t expect it things to go so South.

“Look at the screen,” the woman points, “It’s almost like Morse code,”

All Stephen and Tony could see were your words on the screen along with a strip of audio.

“Watch what I picked up,” the analyst said while clicking play.

“S-Stephen… you can’t h-help… there’s no m-me and you anymore. Stop looking for S-Steve. He wouldn’t h-hurt m-me. H-he.. I wish I h-had time t’explain e-everything. T-to d-do more and apologize w-with all my heart. M-me and Steve are g-going away, off the grid. I’m not m-missing. So just p-please don’t t-try t-to f-find m-me,”

Stephen just stares at the screen still not understanding.

“Notice her stuttering?,” the woman asks to which Stephen just nods, “Now while that might seem like a regular conversation from a nervous or scared woman. I’m gonna cut out all of the other audio and just highlight the stuttering,”

The analyst highlights parts on the audio and Stephen takes a seat to concentrate. Standing too long worried him, he had to force himself to sit still and listen.

“S-Stephen… h-help.. m-me… S-Steve… h-hurt.. m-me. H-he… h-had…. e-everything.. t-to d-do… w-with.. m-me.. g-going… m-missing.. p-please.. t-try t-to f-find m-me,”

“Now just let me remove the stuttering and make it cohesive aaaand here it is,”

“Stephen help me. Steve hurt me. He had everything to do with me going missing. Please try to find me,”

He stared at the computer screen wide eyed, “Play it again,”

“Stephen help me. Steve hurt me. He had everything to do with me going missing. Please try to find me,”

He smiled at the fact that you did in fact leave a message for him. He knew you wouldn’t leave him to go back to Steve. But even if you had left this message or not, how would this help them find you? There only lead was now empty.

“But how can we find her from this?,” Tony takes the words right out of his mouth.

“If I cut all the verbal audio out we can hear a passing train in the background. And someone asking what pump they were at. There’s only a select few gas stations and train stations in upstate New York by the barn you found. My guess is that he’s taking her near the Erie Canal just based off the audible landmarks,”

“The Erie Canal is huge. How are we supposed to find them before anything else happens?,�� Tony asks while Stephen is trying his best to think of another way to find you but nothing is coming up, he’s drawing blanks. Now is not the time to draw blanks.

“Already sent my men out. Any idea why the Erie Canal?,”

Stephen stands up out of the chair in a flash and grabbed his jacket off the chair, getting ready to find you

“That’s where they met,”

——-

“Where are we?,” you ask Steve as you look around at the passing trees.

“Oh you don’t remember where we met?,”

“I tried to forget everything after I left,” you were out of tears. Your eyes burned from how dry they were. You’d been driving for a while now.

“Well I’m gonna refresh your memory,” he turned the radio off, “This is where we met those years ago. This is where we had our date when I asked you to move in with me. Even the place that we had planned to move after we got married. The area is so free and open. You loved that,”

“So you’re taking me here to what? Kill me?,”

“If it comes to it,”

You immediately threw up in the floor at the thought of him killing you. There wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice, he was joking.

“You always did let your emotions get the best of you to be point you had to fucking puke,” he hit the steering wheel over and over again. You’d gotten so used to it that you didn’t flinch this time, “Now I gotta pull over it and fucking clean it,” he sucked his teeth in annoyance.

The smell was rancid as it was nothing but a bunch of stomach acid. He drove for a few more miles before finding another gas station that seemed to be empty other than the one worker.

Steve went inside to buy cleaning products. The man working watched Steve as he searched for good stuff to get not only the stain but the smell out as well. The worker looked to you and frowned when he saw you were handcuffed. His eyes widened as he looked to the little silent TV playing behind the counter and saw that you were the woman missing and Steve was the suspect.

The man tried to remain calm as he looked to Steve once he came up with all the products he needed. The man began ringing up the stuff and his eyes cut to you. Steve caught the action and arched an eyebrow before looking at the reflection in the glass behind the man that was playing the news and the story of you missing. Steve’s body hitched in laughter as he shook his head.

You knew he had a gun on him. You knew the man was thinking of a way to help you but you knew just your luck it wouldn’t be fast enough.

“That will be 21.37,” the man smiled tightly. He slowly reached for the call button and you weren’t sure what was happening but you saw Steve reach for his gun.

“No! No Noo no no no!,” you screamed and tried to break the handle off the roof

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Steve politely smiled at the man, gun now pointing at him

“You took a woman against her will, Captain,” the man hit the button to alert the police and the gun sounded off.

“NOO!,”

Steve ran out of the store and threw the cleaning supplies in the backseat and driving off

“You killed him! You didn’t have to kill him. Oh my God!,”

“If you don’t shut up you’re gonna be next!,”

“Steve, stop you’re insane! What is wrong with you?! What the fuck has gotten into you? Let me go, let me go! I hate you, I fucking hate you! How could I have ever loved you?!,”

Steve didn’t take kindly to your words. He didn’t think before knocking you out with the butt of the gun.

“Don’t lie to yourself,”

———

Stephen rode with Detective Bailey to the gas station that had sent the alert for police. The EMTs rushed the man into the ambulance and Bailey had to stop them to question him just real quick.

“He-he went that way,” he pointed North of the station, “She was handcuffed to the roof handle. Had a bruise on her cheek. Green pick up truck looked like an F-250. She looked terrified,”

Once Bailey got all the information he needed he went in the way that the man told him with Stephen.

“This place is huge, how are we gonna find them!?,” Stephen was pissed.

He felt at fault for this happening to you. Something must have gone wrong for Steve to act out like this. But Stephen didn’t have the time to think over it. He had to focus on getting you back.

“We have a couple of my men in the air. They spotted them near another barn near the woods,”

Stephen began to sweat, he hoped he got to you in time. He just caught a glimpse of the extent that Steve was willing to go to keep you, he could have killed a man. Stephen wasn’t sure if that man was gonna make it.

But he’ll make sure you do.

———

You felt your body being pulled out of the car when you woke up. You were in the middle of nowhere when he dragged you into the woods. Your head was pounding as your vision was still trying to come into focus.

You heard Steve cussing under his breath and you heard the faint sounds of helicopters in the air and police sirens.

“Can’t go that way. They’d expect the least expected,” he mumbled

“S-Steve,” you mumbled, “Just let me go, please. Just let me go and run. I won’t send them after you,”

“I couldn’t care less about them coming after me. If they do I’ll take us both out,”

You whimpered against his shoulder. This isn’t the way you wanted to go. You didn’t want to go by being killed by a man you once loved. A man who you had planned on marrying and having kids with. You didn’t want to go out that way.

You tried to push yourself away but his grip on you was too much. It was taking your breath away and not in a good way either.

“Don’t push me, Y/N,” he pushed you up against a tree, “Enjoy what few minutes you have left because by the sounds of it we’re not gonna make it,”

———

“They couldn’t have gotten far. Engine is still hot,” Detective Bailey said to himself, “Suspect is on foot. Armed. If found, proceed with caution,” he said into his walkie.

“Stephen, I’m gonna need you to stay here,”

“No!,” he protested, “I can’t just stay here. I have to be there, I can help,”

“This isn’t a field day, Stephen. I know that’s your girlfriend but she is a hostage now and we have to treat this situation with certain protocols. You showing up could send him over the edge,”

“She needs me!,” he’d gone red in the face. Stephen feared for you life and the outcome of this entire situation.

“She needs you to do everything you’re able to do so she’s stays alive, Stephen! Think about her! Think about how on edge he is. Anything can set him off and we don’t need that!,”

He knew detective Bailey had a point, he just couldn’t shake the feeling of not being there if anything happened. He wouldn’t forgive himself.

He doesn’t forgive himself now for the way things turned out.

———

“Steve, please th-they know we’re here. Don’t do this,” your breath shuttered as you felt the cold barrel press against your temple.

The officers swarmed and you saw Mel’s dad on the side lines with a bulletproof vest and a megaphone.

“Shut up, Y/N!,” his breathing seem labored as he looked for an escape.

You felt like you were about to pass out again. You couldn’t breathe, you didn’t wanna die. Not like this.

“Captain Rogers, you’re surrounded. Think about this! You let her go and we can work things out but if you hurt her we can’t help you,”

“I don’t want your fucking help!!,”

You felt the way his hand trembled with the gun in hand.

“S-Steve. Please. I love you don’t do this. I love you, I love you so much,” you sobbed. You weren’t sure where these tears came from but they added to the effect.

You looked around for Stephen but he was nowhere to be seen. You wanted to see him in case this was your last moment. Talk to him one last time

“You don’t love me! You hate me remember?!,” he pressed the gun harder to your head and you let out a whimper in fear

“I was just scared! I don’t wanna die but I don’t want them to take me away from you, please Steve. Make the right decision here. We don’t have to die. We can leave together,”

“You don’t mean that. You just want to be saved,” you weren’t sure what else to do. He was on to you. He wasn’t dumb.

“No! No Steve look me in my eyes!,” you turned to look at him and his hard glare softened, “I’ll be better! I-I won’t be selfish, I’ll love you unconditionally. I won’t complain. I promise. W-we can run away, have that wedding,” you held his face and held your forehead against his. Behind him you saw SWAT officers hide behind the trees.

“Just don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt yourself. We can’t live happily if you do that,” you wiped his tears

“I don’t know what’s going on, Y/N,” he sniffled, “One day I’m loving you the best I can and the next you’re gone and now we’re here, w-what happened?,”

His voice didn’t have that hard edge to it that it had with your time being taken. It had gone gentle and innocent. He really did seem lost and that had thrown you for a loop. It’s like something clicked back into place.

“We just made a bad judgement call,” you cry and caress his cheeks. You kissed his lips softly and it felt different and not in a bad way either. You couldn’t place your finger on it but you knew you had to do this to get out of here safely. It concerned you a bit that this seemed normal. It concerned you that you didn’t hate kissing him. It was like old times again and it made you cry harder.

“Y/N, I love you please don’t let them take me,” He gripped you tightly and was practically begging for his life. You weren’t sure what caused the change but either way, you had to get him help.

“I won’t. Just put your hands up and walk to them. I won’t let them hurt you,” he was going to listen. You saw a glimmer of hope, you had this, you were going to make it.

“Y/N!,” 

You heard the trembling voice of the one man you’d been longing to save you. You saw the way a fire reigniting in Steve’s eyes and you knew that wasn’t a good thing. It wasn’t a good thing for Stephen to be here.

Steve turned you back around and had you in a choke hold with the gun pressed back against your temple. You screamed and Steve choked you harder.

“Steve, stop this!,”

“Stephen, we told you to stay where you were,”

He couldn’t take not seeing you. He couldn’t take not knowing what was happening but now he sees the consequences of his actions.

“Back the fuck up!!,” you could feel Steve’s hand trembling with the gun in his hand and that made you worry even more. He was unstable regardless but look at him now, Stephen being here only made it worse, as much as you loved him, it was true that he most likely ruined your chance to get out of here.

“Steve, you don’t have to do this. If you love her you’ll let her go,” Stephen set his hands up to show Steve he had no weapons but Steve wasn’t stupid. He knew what Stephen could do.

“I’m doing this because I love her,” he was trembling and crying, nerves shot as he was surrounded, this wasn’t good, it never was good, “I am what is best for her and if no one can see that then I will do what I have to,” he cocked the gun and you screamed even louder

“No, no no, Steve, please, FUCK! don’t do this, please,” you couldn’t breathe, everything was going dark. If Steve didn’t kill you, the stress of all of this would, “Baby, please, I love you. Only you! Remember? No one can love me like you, this is real, gritty and gorgeous, this is love,” 

You had to use his words against him. Stephen knew your game but it didn’t hurt any less to hear you say those words.

Steve let his guard down and Stephen sent a glowing orange rope his way, but at the very last minute he moved and the rope hit you in your stomach, creating a searing gash, causing you to groan out a deep shout as you felt your dirty work uniform sopping up the blood that was now gradually coming out from your wound.

“Oh God,” 

He didn’t mean to, fuck no no no.

“He hurt you, baby,” Steve whispered in your ear. You didn’t have the energy to keep tally of who was hurting you more. You just wanted to get out of here alive and those odds were looking real slim.

“S-Steve... S-St-Stephen,” you noticed the way your vision started to tunnel.

“Steve we’ve got to get her to a hospital!,” Detective Bailey shouted, “C’mon, son, she’d bleeding faster now, don’t you want to see the woman you love survive,”

There was no bringing the old Steve back. He was long gone and whatever signs of the old Steve that you were seeing before, they’re long gone now, like ripped to shreds and burned type gone.

“She should have never left! I would never have hurt her like this,”

Your body was roaring in pain and it was fighting against everything that was telling it to just surrender and shut down.

“Steve... I,” 

Your body began to feel heavy in his arms and he started freaking out. Stephen noticed the way your body began to look limp in Steve’s grasp and he had only one way to handle this.

“If you’re gonna kill anyone... kill me,”

“S-Stephen no,” you’re gagged when Steve’s arm tightens even more, literally almost completely cutting off your air supply. He wanted you to teeter on the edge of death. He wanted you to know the power he had over you.

“It’s me you want to hurt. Not Y/N. It’s me you’re upset with because I’m with her, so shoot me!,”

“Stephen what the hell!,” Detective Bailey shouts, “You outta your mind?!,”

Steve knew he was right. He kept his tight hold around your neck and pointed the gun at Stephen. You didn’t have anymore energy to scream. You couldn’t make it.

“I’m going cold,” you whimper. Everything was painful. You were panicking, this isn’t how you wanted to go, “No no, no, I- I’m going c-cold,”

“Shoot me! Do it, fucking shoot me!!,” Stephen screamed over your crying. He need Steve to shoot the gun.

“She’s dying, might as well kill me too!,”

Steve did it. He shot the gun. Stephen was right. You were dying, what else did he have to live for? So he just shot it. What he wasn’t expecting was the way Stephen’s arms moved in an hypnotizing manner to open an orange portal and the searing pain that came through his own back.

Steve cough and his grip loosened on the gun and you, causing you both to fall to the ground with heavy weight of being damn near lifeless. Steve cough again, blood sputtering out of his mouth. He fell to his knees right beside you and fell face first, eyes meeting yours.

“My best girl,” was the last thing he said before both of you closed your eyes to succumb to the darkness that has been gradually consuming you.

Stephen ran to you in a flash and held your body close to you, slapping your cheek to try and wake you up. He could go back in time and change things, he could go back and not have come up that hill to see you. You would have made it, he should go back, but something told him not to. He could bring you back and get rid of the memory that any of this happened... but what lie would you be living? 

But look at how you died. It was partially his fault. Had he not attacked, you would have still had a fighting chance. It’s all shoulda, coulda, woulda. He should bring you back, but he knew he would be able to look you in the face and continue to love you knowing he had a hand in your death.

He had no idea what drove Steve to this stage of mania but he hated him for it. He should bring him back just to kill him a thousand times over. Stephen was so deep into his own mind that he didn’t hear the sirens or feel the officers trying to pull you out of his grasp.

He held it together when they tried to shock you back awake. Nothing worked. He could hear the screams and sobs of Melanie when Detective Bailey called her. You were her only true friend aside from her wife. Now you’re gone because of what?

You’d gone grey so fast, there were so many factors to you dying. Too many head injuries, stress and anxiety and Stephen being an idiot and attacking.

He didn’t cry at your funeral. It’s not your fault you had an insane ex, but it was his fault for not doing something about it sooner. He owed it to you to not bring you back. You wouldn’t have gone for it anyway. You always believed in “you time is your time, no matter how you go”

He had to fight himself everyday to not go again your will. 

But that didn’t stop him from going to your meadow where he’d see you running around in your field of flowers, no dark clouds, no tears, just smiles and sun.

He wouldn’t make contact though.

Even though he was the one to show you this realm... he knew you wouldn’t remember him.

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

Are these alternate endings really helping anyone? i cannot help it with the angst endings... but don’t fret, i still have 2-3 other alternate endings coming babyyyy!

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

tags- @blackreaders-assemble @yournonlocalpoc @warmchick @here-for-your-bullshit @retroxvailles @mbaku-babygirl @crawlingnightmares @spideys-wife @mokacoconut @valentinevirgo @whothehellisbinky @lady-olive-oil @periodtcevans @bbybratjay @blacknthemix @abschaffer2 @xye-weirdo @honeyloverogers @vozit @mississippifangirl @oldworldsoul @raindancer2004 @ebonyqueen-1 @thottio @littleredwritinglex @uhh-yess-its-a-fucking-bove-me @shay-iamiam @alyssaj23 @dumbchick @veryhellshdia @chonisberonica @micki-smiles @sexysamsungl @disaster-rose @jordyns-library @pastelastronomy24 @valkyriesnymph @hisxblackxqueen @vxidnik @curlyhairclub @sgtevanstan @blueoz @anise-d-castle6 @never-enough-time-for-sleep @just4muggles

#black reader #black!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #marvel yandere #yandere steve rogers #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #steve rogers angst #MCU angst #yandere mcu #MCU fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x black!reader #doctor strange fic

[sebthesnipe]

The First Winter’s Breeze

February Prompts 2/25

Prompt List

First // Previous // Next

The February Collection on AO3

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Prompt: Pack / Pathetic 

Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

TW: Blood, violence, PTSD

Roman leaned against the rough bark of the tree, cradling the bundle in his arms as he dozed a bit fitfully. 

“Will he be okay?” Patton whispered softly to the witch next to him as they huddled around the fire. 

Logan glanced up at the two sleeping men, concern furrowing his brow. “Virgil or Roman?” he asked softly in return, studying the way Roman clung to the red stained cloak that Virgil’s raccoon shaped body was swaddled in. They had cleaned the blood out as best they could, but he was fairly certain it would never be quite the same. 

“Roman,” Patton clarified, pleadingly peering up at Logan. 

Logan pulled his gaze away from the two with a sigh, poking at the fire absently. “I honestly don’t know, Patton. For now, all we can do is hope that Virgil will awaken. If he doesn’t… I fear Roman won’t recover.”

“Neither will you,” Patton murmured softly, voice cracking as he turned towards the fire as well. 

Logan didn’t reply, though he knew the dragon was right. If Virgil perished, then so would he. However, Logan was more worried for Roman’s sake than his own. The prince had lost so much, and he and Virgil had grown so drastically attached to one another in such a short time period. Logan couldn’t shake the image of the man trying to protect his small friend when Logan and Patton first approached them in the village.

………………………………

A roar exploded in the distance, causing Roman to finally pull his tear-swollen face from Virgil’s chest as he glanced up at the source. Fire erupted, sending the village people into a frenzy as they yelled and scrambled to take cover. Roman tensed, fear mixing with his own despair as a giant monster crashed through the street, crashing into the surrounding buildings as it stormed towards the prince still holding his friend. 

Its scaly body swished back and forth as it drew closer to Roman. Two massive limbs protruded from its shoulders, helping it pull itself forward a bit more quickly as it rushed at the prince. Its elongated snout billowed black smoke into the air, spreading smoothly against its arching brows before flaring into a spiked cowl.

It only took a moment for Roman to gather himself enough to stand. What was a dragon doing in the middle of the village?! Was it here for Virgil?! He wasn’t going to let that happen! The prince briefly took stock of his surroundings before scooping up a number of stones. There was no way he would be able to slay the beast, but perhaps if he could draw it away-

The ground shook with every stomp the fire breathing lizard took towards him, sending mud flying in all directions. The prince rushed forwards, just shy of the protective pink barrier the jellyfish still provided, placing himself between the monster and Virgil. 

The red reptilian creature pulled to a halt just shy of the tendrils still snapping out at anything that drew close. Roman took hold of a stone lifting it high into the air, preparing to make his assault against the angry looking dragon that was snarling at the few villagers who ventured near.

“Get back you foul fiend!” Roman cried, throwing the rock fruitlessly. “You have no place here! I will not allow you to harm him further!” The pebble bounced against the shining scales before falling useless towards the ground. Still, the prince readied another bolt. If this should be the end of him, at least he was finally making himself worth a damn. 

“Roman! Wait!” Logan’s voice cried just as the dragon’s sharp blue gaze landed on the prince, its snarl easing. 

The witch’s voice didn’t register as Roman threw another stone. His aim was a bit off as the object smacked against the breastplate of the beast. A shiver made its way across the beast's body at the impact, the tinkling sound of scales shifting, filling the air as the deep crimson red of its torso faded into a crystalline blue. 

Roman hesitated. Was that an indication of the creature’s wound? Had he actually harmed it?

“Roman, cease this foolishness!” Logan cried once more, sliding down from the dragon’s neck. The witch, dressed only in a pair of trousers, his usual cloak forgotten as he rushed forward, bare feet already filthy with mud.

The jellyfish lashed out at the new threat, causing Logan to stumble backwards out of the whipping tendrils’ way with a small grunt. The witch’s feet slid slightly against the muck of the street. His gaze shifted to the lifeless form behind the prince, taking in the small patches of fur that poked out of the red cloak that now dwarfed the raccoon. No… not lifeless. If Virgil was dead then Logan would be too. 

“Roman!” Logan snapped again, pinning the prince with a measured look. “Roman, I need you to listen to me,” he urged, lifting his hands as if trying to calm a spooked animal. 

The prince, to his credit, gave a passing glance at the witch before focusing back at the massive threat before him, raising another stone to throw at it. He only had a few left. He would have to make each one count. 

“Don’t you dare throw that!” Logan snapped at him, raising his voice for the first time since Roman had known him. It was enough to make the prince hesitate, giving the witch another glance, this time uncertain. “He is a friend, Roman,” Logan reassured motioning for Roman to lower his hands. “He won’t hurt you or Virgil. But I need to get to Virgil,” he spoke in an even calming voice. He tried to move forward, only to jump back in order to avoid another tendril. 

“Damn it, Roman! If I don’t get to Virgil soon he will die!” Logan yelled at the prince in a panic. 

The words, despite their harshness, or perhaps because of it, finally struck home and Roman lowered his last ‘weapon’, dropping the stone onto the muddy ground. 

“Discorporate your nightmare!” Logan demanded. 

“What?” the prince’s brows furrowed. 

“The Scyphozoa! The Jellyfish!" Logan clarified, "Release it! It is not one of Virgil’s or it would have disappeared by now which means you are the one keeping it here!”

“I… I don’t know how!” Roman cried desperately, eyes darting around the pink glow that engulfed him. 

“We don’t have time for this!” Logan growled. Using more of their diminishing magic was not wise if he were to save his partner, but the witch didn’t see another way out. He lifted his hands to his mouth, cupping them to catch the words he whispered into them. He inhaled deeply before blowing them out, sparks flying out the back of his hands and drifting down to settle on the jellyfish’s dome. The creature thrashed against the spell for only a moment before it burst into a shower of sparks identical to the ones Logan had produced. 

Logan didn’t waste a moment, rushing forward before the sparks even had time to settle. He took stock of the stream of mana the witches shared. It was barely a trickle now. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough to heal Virgil, not with his glamour in place. 

He dropped to his knees as he drew close enough to the injured raccoon, not even registering the prince as he walked backwards. Roman's eyes remained glued to the dragon, ready to battle at a moment’s notice. 

Logan’s gaze shifted desperately around them searching for anything that he could use to destroy the sigil on his arm. 

Fingers fumbling, he managed to take hold of the discarded blade that Roman had removed from the witch’s stomach, the weapon caked with blood and muck. It certainly wasn’t the most sanitary option, but it would have to do. He lifted it to his left forearm, slicing into the skin just below the crook of his elbow.

“Logan! What are you-” Roman began to protest.

“Quiet!” Logan snapped, in no mood to bother with explanations at the moment. He dropped the knife and whispered another incantation. The now broken sigil, hidden beneath his skin began to glow softly. It burned his flesh and caused him to shiver at the pain. The witch ignored Roman’s shocked gasp as the emblem cooled and he turned his attention back to the dying creature before him. 

Roman covered his mouth, eyes wide with horror as the smooth rolling muscles of Logan’s back began to shift and slide, like snakes coiling around one another, until all that was left was the deformity beneath it. 

Roman took in the horrific sight before him, unsure which parts were muscle and which parts were skin. Logan’s back was an amalgamation of burns, gashes, and torn skin that ran from his shoulder blades down to his waist. The wounds looked fresh, the blisters and welts bubbling up against the exposed air. Roman had never seen anything like it. He averted his gaze, nausea threatening to empty his stomach.

Logan paid him no mind as he pulled back the stained cloak. His hands moved to dig into the wound at Virgil’s side, coating his digits in the raccoon’s blood as he began to murmur to himself. The air filled with the same electricity Roman was beginning to associate with magic as he gave one last glance towards the dr-

Patton straightened from where he knelt, occupying a small area of where the dragon had previously been. He dusted off his pants absently, the small outline of scales still fading into his skin from his transformation. The small man didn’t notice the inconsequential detail as he hurried forward to see if he could help. 

Realization struck the prince, and he couldn’t help but give a small stumble backwards at the shock of it all. Patton was a dragon?! Little, soft and far too sweet Patton was a fire breathing monster who could kill them all with the bat of an eye… and Roman… Roman attacked him!

Roman had attacked Patton! Another layer of horror washed through the prince as he fell to his knees. He had attacked his friend, gotten Virgil stabbed, and could do nothing about any of it. He really was useless; unable to protect himself or his loved ones.. 

“Roman, are you okay?” Patton asked softly as he reached out to the prince. 

Roman flinched at the offered hand, an action he immediately regretted. Pain briefly crossed the smaller man’s features before he managed to hide his reaction. Shame filled the prince at the sight All he had ever wanted to do was be a hero to someone and he couldn’t even manage that. He was pathetic! 

The prince buried his face in his hands, the force of his sobs shaking his entire body. He was as bad as the people he had sworn to protect his citizens against. The only reconciliation was that most of them weren’t alive to see just how horrible he was as a person, as an heir, and as a friend. 

It wasn’t clear how much time had passed before Logan spoke, far closer to him than he had expected. “Roman, we need to move. We can’t stay here any longer,” the witch pointed out. He rested a hand on the man’s shoulder causing the prince to jerk slightly.

Roman wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, but eventually everything began to fade. His shock, disgust, fear, hatred, pain, all of it vanished, leaving him uncontrollably numb as he pushed to his feet with a silent nod. He moved to collect the discarded cloak before pausing to offer it out to Patton.

“I… I’m afraid it’s ruined. I’m sorry,” he mumbled as the smaller man gingerly reached out to take the red cloth, making a pointed effort not to allow their hands to brush against one another.

“It’s alright, kiddo,” Patton reassured with a soft smile he hoped was believable enough. “Why don’t we see if we can clean it after we get out of here?” Concern was obvious on his soft features as the dragon watched Roman give a somber nod and turn away, already heading for the edge of town.

 Patton had seen many things in his lifetime, some that were strange and beautiful, some curious and bleak. He had seen the weight of society break the weak and the strong alike. It never affected him, he was immune, powerful beyond mortal measure. It was a common occurrence in such a horrible world and yet, seeing it as he did now in Roman’s eyes, his heart quietly shattered. 

It was a silent, cold feeling, so different from the continuous flame that burned within him. It spread through his veins like the first winter’s breeze in autumn, signaling an inevitable change that awaited just beyond the horizon. 

As their small party moved forward, Patton knew the events of the day were nothing compared to what was to come.

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

#sanders sides #sanderssides #sanderside #sander sides #patton #ts patton #patton sanders #morality #ts morality #morality sanders #dragon!patton #logan #ts logan #logan sanders #logic #ts logic #logic sanders #witch!logan #wizard!logan #cat!logan #virgil #ts virgil #virgil sanders #anxiety #ts anxiety #anxiety sanders #witch!virgil #wizard!virgil #raccoon!Virgil #roman

[thefantasygirl3]

Sleep Deprived Regrets. Chapter 1: Nat

genre/warnings: Hurt/comfort, Healing, Light Implied a*use

Words: 2 940

Summary: Dr. Habit finds himself unable to sleep and feeling rather strange. Going for a midnight walk, he finds someone else is having a similar problem.

Notes: This is the first Chapter in a little series I’m trying to make. Not sure how many I’ll make, but I will try to do at least a few more. Enjoy this introduction chapter.

The Habitat, a place for people with frowns on their faces to come and live until they have found the power to smile again. There were currently twenty-three Habiticians living there, all of which not feeling any better, despite the infamous Dr. Habit’s methods to cure their sadness. He had made this facility into what it is for that exact purpose, yet no progress had been made in that direction. It had really riled up the supposed “smile doctor” and dentist.

That specific night, Boris Habit had been staring out over the Habitat from his high tower above, just watching the people below as they had been heading off towards their rooms. They did have a strict bedtime, so it wasn’t the wisest decision for anyone to disobey that. Who knows what Dr. Habit might do if they did?

Well, one person did, but they would not be living through that nightmare again.

The green-skinned man let out a deep sigh as he finished scanning the area and saw that no one was left roaming outside. Great! No one to worry about! Now he could head to bed himself and call it a day.

Habit pulled back the covers of his bed and shimmied his way into it. When he was settled in, he cuddled up in his bed and made himself all snuggled up and comfy. The he finally gave out a small yawn and closed his eyes, to drift off into slumberland.

…

It had been half an hour of shifting around and keeping his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to keep himself sleepy and ready to fall asleep. But try as he may, he just wasn’t doing it. The man stayed awake and not unconscious like he wanted. It felt so irritating, like a jittering in his body that was just getting stronger the more he tried to relax himself. His heart was beating rather hard and it made his limbs and head throb, like a damn headache.

“I CAN’T SLEEB!!!” he suddenly shot up and yelled out to no one while gripping his blanket in his long, claw like hands. It really bothered him that he couldn’t fall asleep at his own set “Beddy-time”. He was supposed to sleep! He couldn’t be awake still! Annoyed, the dentist got up from the bed and started pacing back and forth beside his bed, trying to figure out how to solve this huge problem.

Maybe Habit was just feeling restless! Yeah, it had been an uneventful day that day and maybe all he needed was to work off all that bundled up energy! “Y don’t I “go” out n’ walk around unteel I feel sleeby! No 1 is out rite now!” he told himself, as if he was trying to convince himself of it being a good idea. Though he wasn’t sure why he felt such a strong objection towards the idea to begin with.

He felt so conflicted. Habit wasn’t supposed to be awake. He was supposed to be ASLEEP in his BED! He was not supposed to be wandering around the habitat like some sort of lost puppy. But at the same time… that night felt off. The feeling was… just odd. He could compare it to something he’d feel when he’d get lost in a video game. Like when you explore around and stumble across an area that you were not supposed to go to yet. Or lingering around an area when you are supposed to continue forward to the next, so it feels like aimless running around with nothing happening. That was pretty much to a T his current experience.

As the man snapped himself back into reality, he was staring at his long sharp finger, placed firmly on the elevator’s down button that he was standing in. It closed and started descending.

It was dark inside the boiler room. Boris had hoped that walking out of that long, cramped, dark hallway through the large metal door at the end would lead him into a brighter area. He was obviously mistaken. Carefully, he closed the door behind him so he wouldn’t be causing a ruckus so late at night. Especially for the person sleeping inside the wall to the right of him at that moment. The green man could hear the wall hermit named Wallus snoring from the little hole in his so called “home.”

Sneaking by, Habit tried his best to avoid bumping into anything or stepping in the inexplicable acid pond. Yeeeaaah… he’d have to do something about that soon, before someone got hurt from it. He could barely see the shining outlines of the objects around him, garbage and pipes, illuminated by the dim light coming from the little window of the exclusive lounge area. But despite that, he accidentally kicked over a random can that rolled away noisily from his feet.

Habit hurriedly rushed out the boiler room and out into the corridor towards the main area. But on the way, he collided into some chains that were blocking the way. Looking at the curiously, he wondered over the reason for them, because he could have sworn he hadn’t been the one to put them there.

None the matter, the tall man sunk to the ground, on his hands and knees, and started crawling under those metal chains to reach the other end. And he soon did. Rising to his feet, he stared out over the courtyard and examining it as it was in the silver light of the moon, shining in through the carnival gates and the roof window.

It… looked so calm. Everything was so different from below, or at least not staring down at it from his high tower up above. It looked so big, as if he had gone from being his high and powerful self into but a tiny man in a big world. Habit felt so small. It was like being a kid again and he didn’t like it. He absolutely hated it. Being towered over by any of these things that were usually so far down reminded him of… him.

But the dentist was brought out of his intimidated little daze by a small splash coming from beneath him. He directed his attention towards the distraction and found himself standing in a puddle. A rather deep puddle at that. Damn, if he hadn’t fired his janitor, this thing wouldn’t be an issue. But it had at least brought the man out of his mindless wandering, so that was a plus at least. Now collected together again, he got out of the water, shaking off his wet shoes and continuing over towards the stairs.

Habit was excited, as well as scared of the idea of finding someone awake outside their rooms. He wasn’t sure why, of either of the options. If someone was outside, he could very much just tell them off and put them to bed himself, as well as put on one of his “bedtime stories” for them. Why would he be scared of them seeing him? And WHY on EARTH would he ever be EXCITED over meeting one of the Habiticians outside their room when they are supposed to be ASLEEP!? It was irresponsible and just didn’t make much sense in anyway for him to condone that kind of behaviour. He was a doctor after all. A smile doctor, sure, but a doctor nonetheless. 

Soon reaching the top of the stairs, Habit trudge tiredly into the apartment complex and reached out his fingers to grip onto the middle railing. Holding his breath, he stayed as quiet as he could to listen in on his surroundings, the only subtle sound heard to the man being his heavy, harsh but rather slow heartbeat. It appeared to him that no one was around him, no one out and about like himself, unable to snooze and trying in vain to get rid of that excessive energy. No one was awake for him to turn to and have question him on why he was up too. 

… god this lonely facility was killing him.

“Ugh! Damn it!” a muffled voice came ringing out from beyond the walls of the apartments. Startled, Habit yelped softly and stumble backwards away from the noise, the only thing preventing him from falling being his tight grip on the railing from that shock. So someone else WAS awake! What a relief! It shouldn’t be, but it really just was! Helping himself to his feet, the tall man stood up to his full tall height and started tip-toeing over towards the room he had heard the annoyed grumble from. Of course, being the owner of the facility, he knew exactly who had said it the moment he figured out what room it originated from.

“… Nat… Vancy…” he muttered quietly and swallowed a big lump of unease that had been growing in his throat that entire time. Not sure what he should do, he decided to take a moment and compose himself before making that decision and just listen in on the child to see if she might have a reason for being up.

“… this is so dumb. Why am I here? This place is creepy. It’s a miracle anyone can sleep in this place” the young lady was finally heard murmuring after a while of silence, making Boris Habit feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest. He really couldn’t understand why he was feeling such stress in that situation. HE was the owner, HE was their doctor and HE was the one who could call the shots! Why was he… suddenly not feeling that power? But despite his defenselessness, his hand slowly moved upwards and slowly closed into a fist, giving the door a knock.

“Huh?! What the-?! Who in the world is out there?!” He heard Nat question in complete surprise and confusion as the sound of bare footsteps against a carpeted floor could also be heard approaching. Before Habit could reconsider this potentially really stupid decision, the door opened and revealed the 13 year old girl, wearing a pair of pyjamas, just like the man himself. Upon seeing him, Nat’s eyes darted upwards towards his face and widened in additional shock. The two stood in silence and just stared at one another. The girl out of stunned confusion and the man from not knowing what to say. It was definitely awkward. But after a while of thinking in uncomfortable silence, the bigger man took in a deep breath and sighed out before speaking up.

“I… I’m s-sorry to… disturb you so late at night. I hurd u talking B4 about this place being creepy and that u… wern’t able to sleeb! Butt don’t woree! Habit is here 2 help!” he told the little girl in his usual cheery way of talking, kind of shaking off that anxiety that was filling him before and just acting like the regular ole Dr. Habit. The vampire kid gave him a slow scan up and down, considering his change into the Habit who she was used to. But she quickly shrugged it off and just started closing the door on him. 

Panicking, he hurriedly stuck his foot in the door to stop it while calling out a spooked “WAIT!”. Nat sighed and opened up the door again, looking up at his now nervous face that kind of caught her off guard. “… I… couldn’t sleep. I feel so restless. can I please come inside?” he now asked rather timidly as he lightly tapped his claw-like fingers together. She let out a small, thoughtful hum before simply opening her door to let him inside, mostly out of curiosity it seemed, judging by her expression.

Sitting on her bedside, Nat looked up at the man beside her and gave a judging grimace. “Soooo… how are things?” Habit asked as he twiddled his fingers, looking over at the kiddo. “Not good, obviously. Everything is lame and creepy!” she groaned and tilted backwards a little bit, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a displeased huff. He gave away a tiny sigh and shifted his gaze away from her and to the floor, only muttering a tiny “right” as he grasped his hands together. Nat looked at him in peaked curiosity and raised a brow, not sure what was going through his head as his eyes were fixated on the floor. He kinda just wanted her to elaborate on where the problem persisted, but just didn’t know how to tell her that. 

But it seemed she took note of it, as she let out a big sigh and just started talking again. “It’s just… My dad is being so annoying. I just came here because he was being all bummed out, but now he’s whining about me doing things I wanna do!” the half-vampire groaned and threw her leg over the other one to rest it there, while waving it lightly in the air. Habit gave away a small gasp and tilted over towards her, looking a little surprised at her statement. “Not Trencil! Oh no! What is he giving you a hard time for?” he asked concerned and looked down at her as she was on her back. “Well… Um… He’s complaining about me changing my last name! I have told him so many times that it’s just a stage name!” Nat started explaining as she crossed her arms and turned over to her side. “Also, he always wants me to play around with his stupid and lame flowers! It’s so boring and dull! He can’t ever just do something other than gardening! Ugh!” She continued ranting and shot up from her spot on the bed, looking over at Habit to get some sort of response. Maybe some sympathy? Maybe some sort of surprise over her situation?

She was met with the horrified face of the other person in the room, staring at her and tilting back away from her in shock. It made her get equally as surprised. “… um… ok? That’s… kind of cruel of you to say” Boris commented and glanced away from her, not really sure if he was saying the right thing when telling her about his personal thoughts. He really thought over what she said before trying to continue his own train of thought. “I mean… I guess it’s not really a surprise that he’s feeling down. I would be… pretty sad if someone I loved was calling my hobbies… stupid and lame!” he proceeded and nervously gestured around in the air with his hands, his pyjamas flopping on his arms from the stiff movements.

Nat started stuttering softly as she was slightly caught of guard by his… brutal honesty. He really wasn’t acting like himself. He was sounding rather… rational and serious. “… I guess… But I don’t wanna play with flowers! I wanna do my own thing! I wanna be cool! Do you even know what it feels like to try and be your own person?” she questioned annoyed and turned away from him. She let out a huff as she awaited another of his comments. But nothing came out of Dr. Habit. That made the vampire feel increasingly nervous as she slowly turned her head to look at him. 

His face was dark and mopey, his gaze locked with the floor as he was left completely speechless. Nat jerked her shoulders as she saw his sudden sadness, wondering what she had said wrong to prompt this reaction. Habit lifted his face up and looked more uncomfortable than he did sad, tapping his fingers together and slowly glancing around the room in an attempt to avoid any awkward eye contact. “Well… no. Not really! I… I kind just did what… Daddy told me to do. Ya know? I didn’t wanna make him mad” he started laughing and fidgeting uneasily, his awkward grin intensifying and his hands clenched together tighter. He could feel the vampire girl’s shocked eyes stare at him in stunned silence. He knew that he had just said something that had her way past surprised and he did not wanna see her face. “Dr. Habit… I didn’t mean to… you know…” Nat sounded rather regretful as she pulled back from him a bit, earning Boris’ attention and seizing his nervous fidgeting. Sighing, he decided to just suck it up and say what he had meant to say. 

“Listen, Nat. I… I really think you should speak to your dad. He’s a nice man, I know that for sure! If you just open up to him and explain yourself honestly, I am sure he will understand and try to work with you. He’s a very kind and smart vampire! If not a little… Non-talkey. Heh heh heh!” The dentist laughed softly as he stood up from the kid’s bed and rubbed his neck, backing up slowly towards the door while looking down at the thoughtful look of Nat Vancey. The one and only. “Listen. I should leave you so you can sleep. I will see you for check next week. Nighty-night!” he said as he hurriedly turned around and scurried out the room, starting to head down the hallway towards the stairs. But before he can run off too far, he hears a small “hey!” whispered from the door he just ran out of. Looking back, he sees the girl standing in the doorway, a small smile appearing between the few seconds that the man had hurried to leave.

“… Thank you” she whispered before pulling back inside and closing the door behind her. Habit looked surprised in her direction before giving away a tiny grin himself.

#smile for me #smile 4 me #SFM #s4m #sfm fanfic #boris habit #nat vancey #nat varnnia #hurt comfort #Healing #sensitive topic #dr. habit

[wonwoosthetic]

Not Only In Love With His Car | Part Two || Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor

MASTERLIST is in my bio :) you can also find PART ONE there

Oh my god guys, the first part of this EXPLODED, I mean I honestly would have never EVER thought it would hit a number anywhere near 1,000!!!!!! Thank you sooooooo much, thanks to every single one who read it!

So, you obviously then decided to let me know you wanted a second part that I originally never intended to write, but you made me do it :)

I hope you enjoy it, and thank you again, I can’t put it in words!

Original Request(s): 

Request: Hiii! Could you maybe write a R.Taylor (B.Hardy) x reader fanfic,maybe like they are secretly dating and the other members find out about it ? But if you don’t like the idea,you don’t need to.Basically,I it can be anything with R.Taylor

Request: Please can you write a Ben Hardy Rodger Taylor fic. I don’t have anything idea in particular so you have all creative control. I am just dying for more Ben Hardy imagines

After the first part came out:

tremendousfashionatharrypotter:Could you please please please make a pt. 2 of Not Only In Love With His Car?

Anonymous: I need a second part of he’s not only in love with is car PLEAAASE

Anonymous: can you please do a part two for no only in love with his car

Not Only In Love With His Car | Part Two

Where we left off... “You are an amazing human being, Freddie”, you whispered in his ear, knowing that he needed a form of cheering up. After parting again, he gave you a smile, assuring you that he would be alright as he wiped his tears away. “You should go and cheer up your boyfriend instead of me.” “What? How- what?” You were just as confused as you were in the kitchen a couple minutes ago. “Oh, darling, please. His car is not the only thing he’s in love with.” His comment made you smile, “Why is everyone-”, you threw your arms out and left with a sigh and the smile still on your lips, making Freddie laugh.

....

On Freddie's behalf, you made your way back into the house, only to find the kitchen empty - the coffee cups were, of course, still on the counter. You shook your head with a slight smile on your lips, "So lazy", you whispered. After quickly placing the dirty mugs into the dishwasher, you left the kitchen to go upstairs to yours and Roger's shared bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, so you decided to knock three times, "Roger? Can I come in?" No answer. "Roger?" Again no answer. You usually wouldn't enter a room unless someone told you to, but that was your boyfriend and you got worried. Opening the door, you came to sight with a surprisingly empty bed. "Roger?", you called out again, looking around to see if he maybe sat on of the chairs in the corner, but no... no Roger in there. Confused, you went back downstairs calling his name out in every room on your way to the barn, the studio was in. Once you entered the other building, you found three of the four musicians chilling, Brian on John on the sofa while Freddie was at the mixing table with a suspicious Paul right behind him leaning on the wall. "Guys, have you seen Roger?", you wondered, only receiving a shrug from each and every one of them. Paul was the first to make a snarky remark, "Probably somewhere smouldering." You gave him a look back with the thought, "What an unbelievable prick you are", in your head. Brian's eyes were on you as ignored the other man's comment and decided to give you an answer, "Not since he stormed off, why?" "I can't find him", your arms flew up in exasperation. Freddie put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the table and huffed, "Well then, let's find him, we've got songs to record!", he stood up and motioned for his bandmates to the same, "Up, up! Come on."

Back outside, you wrapped your arms around your stomach, trying to get a bit warmer, as a strong wind went past you. John and Brian went past you to enter the kitchen first by screaming and shouting his name, "Roger!" "Roger, you idiot! Come out!" This went on for about twenty minutes before you heard a loud thud from the living room. You rushed in, expecting to find him but no. Still no Roger. Freddie followed you, "Where is he?" You started opening the cupboard on the walls, feeling kind of stupid for doing that but you knew your boyfriend and he was childish... sometimes. "Love, what are you doing?", the singer asked, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows and a small laugh. You turned around to answer him, "You never know." Suddenly, one of the doors didn't open, so you tried a bit harder. It hit you: your wonderful boyfriend had locked himself in there. "Rog, are you serious?" you couldn't believe what you had just found out. "What?", a voice identical to the blond's erupted from behind the door of the furniture. At that moment the rest of the band members came in as well and watched what was happening right in front of them. "What's going on?", John asked. "Our drummer is being childish and hiding in there", Freddie answered and pointed to where you were standing. Brian's right hand flew to his forehead, "For fuck's sake, you have to be kidding me." You shook your head in slight disappointment - though, you also had a slight smile on your lips, thinking about how unbelievable this will be in your thesis. "I'm not being childish! I'm protesting!" Roger shouted from the inside of the cupboard. "What are you protesting for?", you wanted to know. After not getting an answer back, you took a small step back, ready to leave again, when the door opened, although only so much for his arm to reach out, grab you and jolt you inside with him. "Rog!" you screamed out, not expecting his action. "What are you doing?!", this time your voice turned into a scream-whisper. This made your boyfriend laugh, "Why are you whispering?" You shrugged, "I don't know", speaking normally again. "Roger, you can't just drag (Y/N) into this. Come out", Brian tried to use his dad voice. It didn't work. "I'm gonna stay here WITH (Y/N) until you let I'm In Love With My Car be on the album", he shouted back, earning a look of disbelief from you. You could hear everyone on the outside sigh. "You can't be serious Rog", Brian continued. "Are you joking, that's what this is all about?!", your mouth hung open as you looked him directly into his eyes or where you think his eyes where, as you were only able to make out the outline of his body in the dark. "Please, y-you-", you exhaled deeply, not knowing how to end that sentence or why you had even started it. "This is really important to me", the drummer defended himself, while you could hear mumbling from outside. "It's just a song. If they don't want it on this album than maybe on the next one", you TRIED to reason with him. You heard him chuckle, "You really don't get it, do you?" Shaking your head to his question, you answered him with another question, "Get what?" "It's about you. That's why I want it to be on the album so badly", he took your hands into his, holding them tightly, "This is the first song I ever wrote for you." Your heart stopped beating for a bit, taking in what he had just confessed to you. You never truly knew how romantic that rockstar in front of you, that you were able to call your boyfriend, was. But another thought crossed your mind, "And then you turn me into a car?", with a slight chuckle at the end to lighten the mood. "Because I love cars just as much as I love you", he caressed your cheek, feeling the heat on his fingers. "As much as me?! That doesn't make it any better, you know?" "For god's sake, woman!", he threw his hands up in desperation. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding", you placed your hands on his chest as his arms went around your waist. He started leaning in with a smirk. You knew, he was expecting a kiss and that's exactly what you were not going to give him due to the place he had put you in. "I'm honoured, really... But we have to get out, you have an album to record", you whispered, making him back off immediately. "No! I'm not going out there until they agree to put it on!" "Guys!", your shouting caught everyone's attention from the living room, "Just let him have this one song on the album... I want to get out!" You could have just opened the door and leave Roger but, of course, had to stand right in front of the handle. "(Y/N) you haven't even listened to the song!", Brian argued. "But it's important to him just as '39 is important to you!", you spatted back. "That's a good song, at least", his voice got a bit higher as he was also losing breath to argue more about this. Suddenly, another voice joined the argument but with a solution, "Would the B-Side be alright, Rog?" Freddie decided to give in after getting tired from this nonsense. The guitarist turned to the lead singer, "Why would you agree to that?" "I'm tired and want to go back to recording, we've wasted enough time." You turned to Roger, a pleading look on your face. He gave in, "Alright! Promise?" "Promise!" "Pinky promise?", his question made you roll your eyes, as well as everyone else's. "Pinky promise! Now get out!" Freddie shouted back.

Your boyfriend opened the cupboard door slowly, squinting his eyes as the bright light from the windows hit him. "Finally", John muttered under his breath and left the room to go back to the studio, you assumed. Roger held a hand out for you to take as you climbed out as well. "Can we go and record an album now?", the curly haired man asked, clearly annoyed. His bandmate next to him nodded his head, clapped and left the room. The drummer noticed Freddie's sidekick leaning on the wall, observing him, "What are you looking at, huh?" To which Paul only raised his hands in defence and left the room, following the lead singer like a shadow. "I don't like him", Roger made his dislike for the other man very clear, very often. You linked your arm with his while guiding him out and holding his arm rightly with your free one, cuddling into his side, "I know, me neither." If he only knew what you knew...

--- In The Studio ---

Brian was to go first with the help of some drum and piano chords Roger and Freddie had recorded earlier. You were sitting comfortably on the leather sofa with your boyfriend's arm around you, holding you as close as possible. On your lap, you had your little scrapbook which you quickly got from your suitcase before finding a seat in the studio. You wrote down small details you would like to put in your thesis but knew, you were most likely to forget. "The sound of Brian's guitar was absolutely mesmerizing", you wrote down, making the guitarist's talent clear. The lead singer was in his usual chair right at the mixing table and John chilled on another chair. Paul, as usual, right behind Freddie. You got taken out of your little world of thoughts by the sudden stop of the guitar notes and the owner's voice, "What next?", he wanted to know. Freddie assured him, "That was pretty damn good. Brilliant, I loved that." But he forgot to push the button to make, whoever was behind the glass, able to hear what he was saying - Brian let him know, "Press the button, Freddie." The producer tried to show him what to do, but the singer insisted, "I-I know where it is. I know", he then pressed it, "Kock, knock." To which the other Queen member responded with a "Good." "It's good. Ehm- you know, play it like you wrote it." Brian definitely got offended by that, "Well, I did. I wrote that part." But Freddie just laughed, "I'm taking the piss." "Okay", he just went along with it, "Are you happy?" "I think it's beautiful. It's almost perfect." "Almost", curly hair continued. "Yes! Give it a bit more rock 'n' roll!", the darker man said enthusiastically, making all of us chuckle. "Well, I'm always up for that, Fred." "Put your body into it", was his advice. He chuckled, "Alright, okay. Put my body into it, I've got it", and also did a little belly-dance, making Freddie gasp, "Not like that!" You were chuckling, your boyfriend, on the other hand, seemed unimpressed. "What's gotten you so mad, mister", you elbowed him with a bright smile, trying to cheer him up, but he just shrugged, "I'm not. Just tired." You let it slide as he clearly just wanted this to be finally over. Suddenly words left Freddie's mouth, no one's thought to ever hear, "Oh, and then there's the operatic section." All of your heads turned. Brian suddenly looked very stunned but seemed to like the idea after a short amount of time. John and Roger were not too sure about that.

A little while later, it was Roger's turn to go behind the glass. The lead singer explained to him what he wanted to hear, not really cheering the drummer up. You heard the extreme high version of your boyfriend's voice through the speakers singing, "Galileo! Galileo Figaro!"

Unexpected for the first time, but that one had probably already been the twentieth time of hearing it over and over again.

"How was that?", the blond wanted to know. Freddie only answered with, "Higher." John, who had taken Freddie's place since he moved to an extra corner of the room, was now in control of the button for the microphone, "Can you go a bit higher?" "If I go any higher only dogs will hear me", Roger let a joke slide, making you smile proudly, knowing that he's still the same. You made sure to write that line into your scrapbook. Freddie told him to try and John excused him for that because it was his idea. Roger groaned in desperation as a clear answer, "Go on. Another tape." The producer made the note of it being already the twenty-fourth try actually, to which Rog was obviously ready to complain, but got interrupted by the song. He went again and stood there proudly afterwards, "How was that? Better?" But Freddie's tip, again, was to go higher. Brian, who replaced your boyfriend in the same seat, made that clear to him by pointing upwards with the pen he was holding. Roger got even more annoyed at the scene, "Jesus, how many more Galileos' do you want?" As an answer, John explained that Freddie did indeed want to take a few more tries to get the perfect one. The drummer wondered if there was any more tape left, making the bassist turn around to you as you took a look an answered, "Barely, it's wearing out."

This went on for a good ten more minutes before finally stopping with your boyfriend's comment, "My nuts feel like they're in my chest right now. Are we done?" Making everyone besides Freddie laugh, as he was way too concentrated. Though, he did have to continue with his high pitched voice for a few more lines. Brian was finally also smiling brightly next to you as the dark-haired man clapped his hands, "Beautiful, I love it."

The entire band had to record a bit more, but you were way too tired to watch more as the time passed by extremely quickly. Therefore, you said your goodbyes to them, giving your blond drama queen of a boyfriend a kiss and were about to walk out when Roger grabbed your hand and pulled you in, to whisper in your ear, "Don't fall asleep yet", and left you with a wink. You gave him a smirked and gave everyone a little wave before exiting the barn to go back to your room with your scrapbook full of stories.

Back in bed, after taking a long needed shower and brushing your teeth, you sat on the bed with your back against the headboard and the open notebook in your lap. You didn't let it get noticed, but that big secret you had had to keep inside of you was slowly eating you. You weren't able to tell anyone since you were scared it would go out and Freddie surely didn't want that - but if you weren't able to say it, the only way to let go of it was to write it down. So you did. As you did with a lot of your problems. Writing down every detail of the scene, you still had in your mind as clear as if it had just happened. Too sunken into your own world, you didn't notice the person that suddenly entered the room, "(Y/N)?" You jumped up, quickly hiding your little book under the bed, coming to sight with a silhouette and dark hair. "Hey, Fred", smiling sympathetically. "I didn't mean to scare you, dear. I'm sorry." "Don't be, come sit", you patted on your sight of the bed, making room for him sit. He slowly took a seat and exhaled as if a burden had just left his shoulders, "I just wanted to thank you for not telling Mary or any of the boys. I... I-I promise you to tell her as soon as we get back to London. I just... need some time." You freed your body from the heavy covers and scootched over to be beside the singer. Your arm went around his waist and you laid your head on his shoulder, "There's nothing to thank me for. I only want the best for you." One of his arms went over your shoulders and the other one eloped you into a big hug, "You want the best for everyone." His comment made you smile and you sat still in this position until another presence joined you. "What's going on here?", your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room. The two of you looked up and you were about to say something when Freddie stood up, "I was about to go", he walked out but stood still at the door, "Good night, you two", and left with a wink. "What was he doing in here?", the drummer asked while taking his shirt off, revealing a very toned body you knew all too well, followed by the rest of his clothes, besides his boxer-briefs. "Nothing, just...", you were coming up with an excuse, "missing Mary." Roger nodded understandingly as he climbed into the bed and tucked the both of you under the sheets, "See, that's the reason why I wanted you to come with me. I don't have to miss you." His arms were tightly wrapped around you, you were playing with his hair, trying to brush them out of his face, "Oh, I know that's not the only reason you wanted me here", to which he raised an eyebrow, "Oh yeah?", you laughed, "Oh yes. You showed me that last night." "Well...", he started kissing down your neck, making you squeal and laugh, "The boys already know what we're probably gonna do, so why not do it again?" "You're unbelievable, you know that? Only hours ago, you were like a like a little kid because they didn't like your song and now you want to play sex god?", you were teasing him - he knew it as much as you, but you know: two can play that game. His fingers slowly moved downwards on your body, "I don't just play a sex god and you know that." With a smirk, you kissed him. Oh, how you know he didn't need to pretend to be one. He was one.

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

Quick notice!: I created a queen fanpage on instagram :) : thosekillerqueens

You are very welcome to follow me ;)

Besides that, I hope you all enjoyed this at least half as much as the first part, hihi. And again, I’m extremely thankful for all of you who have managed to get my imagine to over 1,000 notes!!!!!

I’m also thinking about actually making this even longer than I anticipated and maybe turn it into a series, what would you think about that?

I hope you all have a great day/night!! :) btw, I’m going to watch BoRhap tomorrow for the fifth time!

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger x reader #Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x reader #Roger Taylor!BenHardy #Roger Taylor!Ben Hardy x reader #Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #borhap imagine #borhap x reader #bohemian rhapsody movie imagine #bohemian rhapsody #queen imagines #queen imagine #queen x reader #brian may imagine #freddie mercury imagine #John deacon imagine #gwilym lee imagine #joe mazzello imagine #rami malek imagine

[imagine-always-and-forever]

Flutterings & Tequila - Part 9

A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: you’ve decided to go clubbing with your best friend the last summer before college starts to take your mind off of the Mikaelsons who have invaded your life this summer. Specifically, you’re trying to distract yourself from Niklaus Mikaelson and the flutterings he has caused you. Tequila is your friend tonight. 

Part Summary: the exchange

Warnings: typical stuff you’d see in the show

Word count: 2,242

Tags:  elle88531,  violentmommabear42 (let me know if you want to be tagged or I missed you out on the tag list!)

Authors note: an update the very next day? I know, I’m just as surprised as you are. But here it is! I hope you enjoy this part and please let me know what you think! Are you excited for any more???

Part 1  |   Part 2  | Part 3  | Part 4  | Part 5  |  Part 6  | Part 7  | Part 8 

You couldn’t have guessed where you were if you tried. The drive itself had been just under an hour and involved mainly backroads that twisted and turned through thick forests. Jess and Cooper sat up front while you were placed in the backseat, ties around your hands and feet. You watched the last rays of sun vanish behind the trees as you took a sharp turn and headed down a gravel road.

A short distance later and dull yellow lights started illuminating your surroundings. Large concrete buildings surrounded a long, rectangular, gravel parking lot. Cooper stopped the car at its entrance, and when you peaked out the windscreen, you could see the outline of another car and a man in the distance.

It looked like Klaus had decided to show up for the exchange. Jess turned to his brother before glancing back at you. He smirked. You glared back.

Jess and Cooper got out of the car. The doors slammed shut and the lights in the car went off. You watched helplessly from the back as they walked to stand in front of the car. Klaus didn’t make a move to step forward.

“Let’s make this easy,” Jess said, not bothering to raise his voice too much. “You give me the box, and I give you the girl.”

Klaus didn’t move. You frowned. That wasn’t like Klaus. He was more do now and think later when he was in these kinds of situations. That box must be really something.

“Now I don’t have all night,” Jess sighed. Klaus again didn’t move. “Seriously? You just going to stand there?” Jess asked, and from his tone, you could tell his patience was waning thin.

This was your chance.

With your magic freed, a simple spell sliced the ties like an invisible knife. They fell to the floor and you stretched out your legs and rubbed your wrists. Now you had to get out the car without raising any flags. That would be hard considering the vampire hearing.

You gently pulled on the latch of the door handle. Ever so quietly, you heard the mechanism unlock. You paused and glanced to Jess and Cooper. They hadn’t heard it. Klaus was still being encouraged to join the conversation and hurry up.

Jess’s patience would be all but gone soon and you had a feeling his motivation for Klaus’s participation in this trade-off would involve you and that knife of his.

Testing the door, you applied a small amount of pressure to it. You just about stopped yourself from sighing in relief when it opened without a sound. You pushed it just open enough for you to slip through. The night was chillier than it had been all summer. You closed your eyes in realization. You didn’t have Jess’s phone. There was no way for you to get it now.

Maybe you could make your way through the forest. There might be a highway or something on the other side. If you’re lucky, there might even me a few houses. Even all the way out here there tended to be the odd recluse’s house. They’d have a landline at least.

“I think we need to remind Mr. Mikaelson of his stake in this exchange,” Jess said with an impatient bite. You froze. He turned to his brother. “Cooper, go get the girl.”

Your eyes closed in defeat. Too late.

“Where were you going?” Cooper asked as he appeared at your slightly open door. You stared at him, not moving a muscle. The door was pulled open the rest of the way with a gruff smile. He grabbed you by the collar and pulled you roughly towards the front of the car.

“Trying to escape?” Jess asked as your eyes landed on him. His tone of voice told you that he knew you knew better than that and what he had promised he’d do to you. You didn’t let yourself look as scared as you felt. Jess laughed. “Spirited little witch, aren’t you?”

You didn’t bother answering him. Instead, you look across the parking lot to Klaus, still shrouded in darkness. He didn’t move but you felt his eyes on you. Cooper hadn’t let go of you.

“The box or she dies,” Jess yelled, all patience gone.

Klaus again didn’t move. You felt a spike of hurt. You knew you weren’t as important as whatever was going on here, but you had felt something on that… whatever it was. You thought he did too. You stared at the gravel beneath you as your eyes pricked again with tears. He was really just going to let you die.

“Have it your way,” Jess yelled again.

Cooper let you go as Jess pulled you towards him and spun you around. You gasped as he held you in a death grip against him. His mouth hovered above your throat. Your lips trembled and you debated if you could run fast enough before he recovered if you gave him a quick aneurysm.

“I thought so,” Jess whispered against your neck before lifting his head.

Your eyes snapped up to see Klaus walking forward. Relief rushed through you. Jess held you tight as ever, clearly set on getting his box before he let you go. You struggled in his grip. Ignoring you, he nodded to Cooper to be ready.

From the darkness, the figure emerged. As the dull yellow lights hit him, you went blank for a moment and stopped struggling against Jess’s hold.

Elijah was standing several feet in front of you. He didn’t seem worried. More annoyed than anything, actually. He pulled his sleeves down and fiddled with his cuffs for a second, glancing up at Jess, Cooper, and you as he did so. You stared. Where was Klaus?

“Well then?” Jess asked, tugging on you to make a point.

Jess wasn’t startled by this revelation. He clearly knew he was meeting with Elijah all along. You wondered why Elijah was doing this and not Klaus. Was it Elijah that had called?

“I’m going to need you to release Miss Y/L/N,” Elijah said very amicably.

Jess huffed out a laugh. “Yeah and I’m gonna need you to hand over that box,” he said, less amicably.

Elijah watched him for a moment, his attention solely on Jess as if nobody else was there. His eyes narrowed on the young vampire. You could see the calculation in them. There was even a slight amusement.

“I don’t have it,” Elijah said calmly.

You could feel Jess freeze behind you. Then his arms around your body tightened and dragged you back as he stepped away from Elijah. You stumbled in the gravel as he pulled you. Elijah watched without a word, just his calculating gaze scrutinizing every move Jess made.

“We had a deal,” Jess accused.

So it was Elijah who had called.

“Yes and you’re very lucky that I was the one that intercepted your little message,” Elijah told him. You struggled against Jess, who was tense and alert as he thought through what was being said to him and trying to create a new plan. Elijah took a quick breath. “I assure you if my brother were here you would be dead by now,” he said very clearly, very simply, to Jess. Before Jess could reply, Elijah stepped forward, making Jess backup once more. He hit the front of the car. “Let her go,” Elijah ordered without much fuss.

“I want my box!” Jess screamed angrily. Elijah narrowed his eyes. “Give it to me!” You watched for Elijah’s reaction to the petulant demand. He was carefully assessing Jess and his eyes never strayed for a second to you or Cooper, who was standing by his brother’s side. You wondered what he expected to do against the Original. “Give it to me now or she dies!” Jess yelled and pulled your head back, exposing your neck.

Elijah seemed amused by this. You hoped that was because he was confident that he nothing was going to happen that he didn’t want to happen and that he didn’t want you dead.

“Are you challenging me?” Elijah asked with a hint of a smile.

“I’m telling you,” Jess countered.

Elijah’s lip quirked up. For the first time since the standoff started, Elijah acknowledged Cooper.

“I suggest you talk some sense into your brother before you both end up dead,” Elijah told him.

“You aren’t getting that girl without giving us that box first,” Cooper responded.

Elijah sighed. He seemed to be tiring of this game now. You wondered if you should still wait to see what he was going to do or if you should make your move now. Jess laughed at his brother's easy cooperation.

“No box,” Jess said, glancing to his brother, “no girl,” he said to Elijah.  

He walked backwards, around the front of the car, holding you roughly to him, ready to kill you in seconds. He opened the passenger door and shoved you in as he got in himself, slamming the door shut and making sure Elijah saw that you were still at his mercy.

“Cooper,” he called to his brother.

Cooper opened the driver’s door and got in. He spared one last look at Elijah, who calmly watched. He smirked at the Original. “Guys this means more fun,” he muttered with an awful gleam in his eye as he closed the door. The way his hands had lingered on your naked body came back to you in a nauseating wave.

All three of you jumped when Elijah yanked the car door from its hinges. Your head snapped up as you watched Cooper get dragged out of the car.

Elijah picked the large man up by his neck, lifting him off the ground. Cooper struggled in his grasp, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He sputtering as he tried to breathe through Elijah’s grip.

“What did you say?” Elijah asked Cooper.

Cooper couldn’t get any words out.

“Am I to understand that you touched her?” Elijah asked. His eyes took on a different calculated look than before.

Jess turned to you as Elijah was distracted by his brother. “New plan,” he whispered into your ear, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You’re going to stay alive until you prove your worth and get me that box,” he told you, gripping your face harshly as he stared into your eyes. “Don’t forget, if they catch onto you, you’re going to kill yourself,” he ordered, the compulsion washing over you.

In Elijah’s grip, Cooper tried to respond but Elijah didn’t loosen his grip enough for the man to get any air out. Before Jess could respond, before you could even think of using your magic to knock Jess out and run for it, Cooper’s body hit the floor. Elijah stood over it, a bloody and still pumping heart in his hand.

Jess moved faster than you thought possible. He was out of the car and had disappeared into the woods before either Elijah or you noticed the car door opening. You sat in the back seat of the car, staring out the open door into the darkness of the forest that Jess had run off into, in shock.

Slowly, you brought your eyes to the front of the car and looked out the windscreen to see Elijah considering the trees before him. You wondered if he’d decide to go after him just as Elijah turned to lock eyes with you.

“We should get back,” Elijah said, calm once more.

You nodded and got out of the car.  When you walked around to the front, you saw Cooper’s body in the pool of blood from the hole in his chest. You averted your gaze and looked up at Elijah.

“This way,” he said, and started walking to the car on the other side of the parking lot.

You walked by the body without another glance. The gravel under your feet felt tricky to navigate in the dark and it didn’t help that the exhaustion you felt from the last several hours was starting to show itself now that the night was over.

Elijah walked slowly to allow you to keep up with him. When you reached the car, he opened your door and you climbed inside. He got in and started the car as you numbly put your seatbelt on. He drove out of the parking lot without a word.

The entire drive home was spent in silence as you watched the world through the windscreen without really seeing it.

By the time you reached your house, it was quarter to eleven. Neither of you had yet to say a word. Elijah pulled into the drive and parked the car. He didn’t make a move to get out or even take his hands off the steering wheel.

You sat in the dark for a few minutes. Elijah was the first to break the silence.

“You should shower before you go to sleep. You’ll feel better for it,” he told you. You nodded numbly. “We’ll talk in the morning.” You nodded again.

You both stepped out of the car at the same time. Elijah walked off in the direction of the guest house. You got several steps from the doorway before you paused.

“Elijah,” you called in nothing above a whisper, “thank you.”

You didn’t need to turn around. You knew he had heard you and with that, you opened the front door and walked in.

#the originals #niklaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaleson imagine #flutterings & tequlia #part 9 #klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson

[sometimesrosy]

You said they were telling a 2 season love story beginning with s5. Do you mean Bellarke will finally get in a romantic relationship in s6 or do you think there will be more hints but not a relationship?

No. Yeah. That’s what I mean.

That the bellarke romance is taking TWO seasons to happen. They absolutely set it up exactly like I said they would in season 5, with the mutual, immediate connection, soulmates, the love triangle, the unnamed external conflicts (because for the love story part the main conflict is part of the obstacle to getting together but is not ABOUT the love story… it’s just the way this kind of story works, this long term, character based story,) the all is lost moment when it seems like it will never happen, and then, in the end, the choice is to be together. Or in the case of Clarke, it was to save him, whether she thinks she can have him or not, because she thinks she can’t, and in HIS case, it was the recognition that Clarke belongs at his side.

See, the ending of the outline I said is complicated for the basic love story I laid out because it’s only HALF way through the love story. So like, season 5 was about getting Clarke and Bellamy TOGETHER, as all five seasons were, book 1, it was DIRECTLY about their reunion. And they discovered the things that had changed, the things that hadn’t, the things that had gotten better, the things that were worse. They came back together as BELLARKE.

Right? They’re soulmates. The season was about reuniting them. And once they met in 5.13, there was actually no more drama left. But the story TOLD was 100% about Bellarke together. Not romantically… yet… but Bellamy’s treatment of her was different. Indicating his feelings had, not quite CHANGED, but settled, recognized.

Does this make sense? Sometimes I can see it in my head and I don’t know if I”m describing it clearly.

I know Bellarke didn’t hook up last season and I said they would. And I re-examined my theories to see where I went wrong and where I was on track, and it turns out that I went wrong because I was rushing it…. as I have been known to do, as captain of #teamfuckingkissalready. 

But when I re-evaluated my theories and looked at what we actually got in canon, The 100 actually did follow my bellarke story, but it only got about half way into my theory. It did not debunk ANY of my theories, it continued with the symbolism I’d spotted (although we got VERY little hand symbolism, which might be a sign that they were NOT together as Bellarke and they still had to find each other, which they did by the end.) I must admit that my original theories were based on a SPECULATION that they were going to do a love triangle story. So to me, I was just like, okay, lets go. Love triangle, no prob. Get to the jealousy. BUT the story required a slower build-up to the love triangle, setting it up in ep1, but holding off the reveal that Clarke was alive until ep3, the first reunion until ep 4, the reveal of B/E (the love triangle) until the very end of ep5. Clarke’s reaction and Octavia’s reaction in ep5, then sending Echo away so that we could begin to rebuild the Bellarke soulmate connection and partnership, and the rising tension of the dangers, crashing and burning with our betrayals and all is lost moments all wrapped up with being called on loving Clarke and sacrificing Octavia for her and leaving him to die and omg. THEN they had Clarke and Bellamy having separate revelations about how they felt about the other and Bellamy’s love life is a mess. It honestly did feel like they’d NEVER find each other again…. but because the story IS Bellarke, it took one revelation of last year’s cliffhanger, the 2199 calls, to turn that around.

And then it started over, 125 later, with Clarke and Bellamy, ready to be the good guys.

So. The reason why I say this bellarke story is not finished is because of a few things. There are some MAJOR stories and secrets regarding how they feel about each other that have NOT been dropped, but other characters have an invested interest in.

Bellamy knows about the 2199 calls. Clarke cares “so much” for him.

Bellamy did not poison Octavia for “his family,” he did it for CLARKE.

Clarke is “another traitor who he loves.”

Echo does not know that Bellamy loves Clarke. 

But we DO know that Clarke and Bellamy are working together again, and aligned, in the same direction. They are trying to be the good guys. That means there’s no more running away. Maybe there’s IGNORING, but if they work together, their relationship is going to be observable by the others around them.

AND they have noticeably avoided having all the people who have opinions about who Bellamy and Clarke love actually WITNESSING who Bellamy and Clarke love. Except for the people who have already called them out– Octavia, Madi, Monty and Harper, shoot maybe even Diyoza.

That leaves Raven, Murphy, Echo and Abby ignorant of the new dynamics. And ALL of them have an investment, whether in Clarke, Bellamy, or B/E. 

They did NOT finish this story. People talk about b/e being endgame, but this is not so according to story. The season ended with no acknowledgment of the changed situation or how Bellarke affects them. B/E and C/B/E ended with no resolution, while Bellarke resolved a reunion that took all season, leaving the nature of their NEW relationship unknown still. 

So. What that leaves me is reconsidering my old theory from last year, and I’m gonna say that B/E will be resolved in s 6a, maybe sooner than we think, but that doesn’t mean that Bellarke will happen right away, because that would be Bellamy disrespecting Echo. So I think we’re going to get some sexual tension as they try to resist their feelings. I think we’ll see a renewal of the hand metaphor, since that’s always represented their connection. And the last close up of a Bellarke hand we got was, I think, Bellamy’s hand on Clarke’s pretty bare back. Which is definitely an upgrade romantically speaking but not quite a sign that they were in the same place yet. I think we’ll have canon romantic Bellarke by s6b.

The story is absolutely already romantic, but we still have a few steps to go through before they can make it a canon relationship with touching and confessions and all. As much as I’m impatient there it is. The feelings are there now, in canon. The love triangle. Together. The reunion. The 2199 calls. The Lxa resolution with love is not a weakness. Standing by the window, alone, taking on the new world, TOGETHER. 

Also, not incidentally for me, Princess Mechanic is also reintroduced, not just with Clarke’s betrayal and Raven’s anger, but also with their immediate connection and partnership, and the echo of their old love triangle on the horizon, and what they owe each other and how they’ve hurt each other. Sorry. I know Princess Mechanic is not Bellarke, but that Bellarke is a story that has connections to Clarke and Raven’s history and they’ve been going over the old hurts and resolving them, I not only am very excited to see the girls friends again, but it’s also evidence for me that Bellarke is coming home.

If The 100 had thrown my theories out the window, I would not still be looking at them. They didn’t. They’re just making us wait another season. I have been criticized for being wrong about romantic bellarke, but I just don’t think I am. I think my timing is off, as usual, but I see canon romance, love triangle, longing, jealousy, the word “love,” the 2199 calls. And this IS what I said would happen… just like I said it would be happening by mid s5. So. Reassess. Readjust. Keep the faith. Believe in Bellarke.

#the 100 #bellarke #believe in bellarke #speculation #canon romantic bellarke #i don't care what those other people say i think they are wrong and blind as bats

[honeyctzen]

peach [2] - jj

part 2 of 2 

genre: smut 

warnings: voyeurism, spanking, teasing, unprotected sex (always use protection!!) 

words: 5.2k 

Time seemed to grind to a halt in anticipation. Thoughts spiralling into a mess of nerves in the hours you were forced to spend in your dorm. Revising over class notes you could barely focus upon, going over what had happened in the library endless times. Your head had scoured over the events, searching hopelessly for any sign that you shouldn’t leave for the radio show. Any signal that this was merely Jaehyun airing his physical frustration on you and leading you in to eventually, push you away. Though, when you thought of his eyes, and how his dimples had flourished, how his nose had nuzzled to yours, nothing seemed out of character from how he had been before the break. In fact, he seemed more himself than ever. There were no obvious reasons for you not to follow along with his request, not to see him. He was so beautiful in the studio, somewhere he felt truly comfortable and from the times you had been there before, he enjoyed himself. You had been needing to see him relax since the break began and if you didn’t follow along, you might not have another chance. It seemed decided that you would go but whether you would comply with both his requests, you didn’t know.

The notion of wearing those socks in the studio where Johnny would also be sounded a little weird, for the socks were a kind of fascination for Jaehyun. His eyes would be caught on them and usually he was pretty cautious about showing you off before his friends. As it was so out of character, you wondered if you were overthinking things. How, perhaps Jaehyun just wanted to see you in the socks because they reminded him of fond memories. It seemed harmless enough. With another huff, you hauled the material on. Pressing your fingers over the cotton as they lifted higher up your legs. You didn’t particularly understand why Jaehyun liked them so much, they were simple, a little covering if anything. But you wanted him to be happy and it was a small detail.

Through sighs and grunts, your outfit was pulled on and off several times. Mind clouded by what had happened in the library, not knowing what Jaehyun would want from you when there. A lingering question of whether to pamper yourself remained and in the end, you subtly calmed yourself in the safety of cover. Piling on a thicker shirt alongside a skirt so Jaehyun would be able to observe the socks. It seemed ridiculous to worry so much about the subject but in the dazed conflict of your current relationship, worrying about vanity looked to be normal.

Outside it had cooled, as the sun had dimmed below the horizon of trees and distant buildings. The streets were quieter, people sat around in their dorms studying or readying to tune in to the radio show. With the building in sight, you chest became thick with anxiety, heaving out breaths with billows of cold smog. Upon the concrete, your feet pressed in timid steps, figure trailing toward the building where Jaehyun would be sat inside. Imagining him at his desk, preparing the space to go on air brought some comfort, an ease residing in your stomach that hadn’t been there before. The image was enough to push you onward, walking until the bright interior of the radio studio became all you could see. Luckily, enough people knew of the relationship between you and Jaehyun that the receptionist merely allowed you through. A gawky looking boy pressing a button that permitted you access to the upper floors.

You climbed up four flights of stairs, arriving on the fifth floor where you knew Jaehyun would be. Likely sat in the recording room already, waiting around until you approached. Down the length of the corridor you could see the room in which they recorded, a tinted window obscuring your view slightly but still, you could make out his silhouette. Broad stature upon a desk in the room, the outline of his arms becoming clearer as you neared the wooden barrier. Light seeping through the blur of the glass, your ears perking up as they heard the slight chirp of Jaehyun’s laughter. His small giggles echoing through the door to greet you with a warm hug, your stomach tightening as your lips careened into a smile. From just the thought of seeing him, Jaehyun had made your knees weaken, almost enough to bar you from opening the door; almost. With shaking fingers, you popped the barrier open, allowing the tinted window to push back, Jaehyun sitting before you. He seemed to be by himself, Johnny probably somewhere nearby but in the moment, all your thoughts were surrounding Jaehyun. Watching his messy hair dash onto his forehead, his fingers playing with one another until the sound of the door caught his attention. Head snapping to where it originated, staring at your figure caught in the doorway, stunned under the gaze he was sending over. In your stomach, something churned, it made approaching him almost impossible, taking Jaehyun to gesture his head for you to follow in.

Within this habitat, Jaehyun settled into his position on the table. Similar to how you had been in the library only it was still clear that he was in charge of the dynamic. Eyes trailing over you as you came to stand in front of him, thighs brushing against his knees. Through the material of his ripped jeans, he could feel the soft matter of the socks. His thighs separated to fit you between, just as you had done for him earlier in the day. From the space between his legs, your waist stood, his legs gently swinging either side. You felt a heat spread through your loin, a comfortability you hadn’t felt in months, the feeling of coming back together. It was this spur of emotions that caused you to weave your hands up his back. To wrangle them through the strands of hair of the back of his head until your fingers were interlocked with the locks. The warmth spread, face dipping closer to Jaehyun whilst he permitted his own hands to travel your body. Through his touch you could tell he was trying his best to avoid touching your thighs just yet, keeping his fingertips lingering over your waist. Contact biting over the clothed skin as you tugged softly on his hair, letting him know that you could feel him. Either side of you, his thighs tightened, forcing your body closer to his crotch. An air of blush ran over your cheeks, tinging them a peachy colour to match your socks. Through the material of your skirt and the thicker fabric of his jeans, you could feel his member stir against your heat. Body recoiling with the pressure as Jaehyun brought your body impossibly close. Fingers gripping your waist as finally, he brought his lips back to yours.

Unlike in the library, the kiss was desperate this time, full of crude desire that only brought you closer. The grip on his hair straining as Jaehyun pushed his tongue into your mouth. His lips tasted of the coffee he had likely been drinking, the faint aroma of it trailing over the inside of your mouth. He traced each area, leaving no fibre untouched, the muscle sweeping across until a moan ran up your throat. Through the kiss, the groan rattled, the suddenness of the pleasure causing you to wrench upon his strands. Jaehyun opened his mouth on yours, an animalistic growl pouring deep from his chest, hips jutting forward to meet yours. With the intimacy, you felt yourself almost unravel, body coming to yearn for his affection, even in such a public setting. Even through the smog of want smearing across your thoughts, somehow, you managed to part yourself from Jaehyun. A tiny space separating your bodies as you gasped for air.

‘You came.’ Jaehyun mumbled as you tried to find the strength to merely breathe. Chest heaving as his hands steadied your figure at the waist. His words didn’t help to calm you and instead caused another rush of desire to pool through your nerves. You felt a need to tell him how silly he was for asking that question but instead, you responded with a mellow sigh. One filled with all the answers he needed.

‘You knew I would.’

‘Yeah, I did.’ He grinned, dimple appearing within the smug expression. His fingers soothing over your covered hips to tease, yours helplessly tugging at his hair, trying to assert any remaining dominance. ‘You wanted to discuss something?’ Jaehyun reminded, moving his fingers once more. A stab pined at your chest, an embarrassment at how you had become so easily intertwined with him without evening thinking of what to say. And even then, with his reference, your mind had trailed into blankness. Trying its best to concoct a pensive answer, but mouth merely blurting desperate thoughts.

‘I want the break done, I, I just want you.’

‘Convince me.’ Jaehyun exclaimed abruptly, his voice thick with conviction.

‘What?’

‘Convince me.’ He merely repeated, his fingers moving to run against your hips once again, giving you a notion of what he was thinking. The stirring on your waist caused you to sigh, the painful noise echoing through the studio as you came closer to his stature. Allowing his hands to cradle your hips as your mouths entangled once more. Lip meshing as though they were puzzle pieces that perfectly connected, his hair running soft against your fingers. Jaehyun widened his thighs somehow, permitting you to press even closer, body flush against him. The stiffness restricted in his jeans ached upon you, each movement either of you made caused another shoot of electricity to circuit around. Each rut he made only causing you to press your heat closer, until you could feel every twitch his length made through the barriers. His fingers had begun to slip under your shirt, pulling it from its place where you had tucked it into the skirt. Jaehyun bringing his fingertips to dull against the supple flesh. Snaking upward until his clasp had reached your ribcage, holding your entire being in his grip. His touch ran small circles into the skin, feeling against the little goosebumps he was creating. Softening them until you were truly content in his hold. In his clutch, your fingers began to dance down to clasp his jaw, to keep your thumb hovering on his cheek. Feeling the blush that rose onto the flesh as he continued barraging you with kisses. You were sure you would have never submerged from that kiss, if Jaehyun hadn’t.

‘I gotta go on air.’ He explained emotionlessly, dropping his forehead to rest on yours. The skin slick with swear, his hair meshing with your face. Your thumb lulled touches into his cheek, nodding into the gaze he was sending.

‘Shall I wait outside?’

‘No, no, Johnny’s out there.’ Jaehyun uttered rather worriedly, his temperament different from how it had been just moments before.

‘So,’ you shrugged, his fingers slipping a little lower as they went back to lazily holding your waist. ‘Doesn’t he know I’m here?’

‘No, he thinks we’re still broken up, so I mean, this would look really weird.’

‘Johnny won’t care.’

‘Babe.’ He groaned helplessly, watching your expression churn in confusion. You parted your hips from his slightly, giving yourself room to think. Somehow, it didn’t help, nothing seemed to with Jaehyun that close.

‘Shall I sneak out?’

‘No, uh, go underneath the table, you can wait there until we come off air.’ You scoffed at his words, shuffling back even more. Hands dropping down to rest upon the sternness of his shoulders, giving you balance.

‘What, are you crazy, what if someone sees, you don’t think that’ll look even weirder?’ You complained, not remembering back to times where doing something like this would have been an immense turn on. Within Jaehyun’s expression, you could somehow tell being caught would also turn him on and it persuaded you somewhat.

‘Baby, just hide okay, no one will see, I promise.’ He assured, brushing against your waist to calm you. It appeared to be working although you were almost certain your desire was the thing deciding.

‘Fucking hell, fine.’ You faked a vexed groan, moving from Jaehyun to observe the desk area. It was large, space wouldn’t be an issue and you knew most nights that the radio show only ran for an hour at most. The trouble would be pressing to Jaehyun for that long whilst keeping yourself contained. Supressing the desire to touch him whilst he attempted to speak as though nothing was occurring beneath. It was that idea that finally forced you underneath the counter. Moving across to where Jaehyun always sat and squatting to hide below the counter, your body crawling against the carpet, the socks giving you a barrier between the coarse material and your skin. You dragged yourself forward until you were concealed beneath the desk, watching Jaehyun’s legs move across the room. His feet treading in their sneakers, another set of shoes coming into the room. Johnny began chatting to Jaehyun immediately, their voices becoming a blur as you comforted your body in its restricted position. Knees pulling underneath you as you listened to Jaehyun’s voice, the calm tone, the smugness of it. His relaxed state only culminating to make you even more sodden.

A few minutes passed before both men trailed off to their seats, cramping your body more as you tried your best to avoid them. Swerving away from Johnny so viciously you almost fell into Jaehyun’s legs, your body coming to sit between them. His feet hooked either side of your figure, securing you, not allowing you any room to move. Trapping you in his clasp as the air became thicker. When the talking began, you could barely make out the words. Focusing all your energy upon not becoming too attentive toward Jaehyun. Pulling yourself as far as you could until the rough press of his heels dug into your thighs. You sat, exasperated, bored and more thing anything, frustrated. The conversation taking place above the table became background noise, Jaehyun’s voice dulling into the framework. In the uncomfortableness of the space, you leant your hands upon Jaehyun’s clothed knees, hoping it would give you come security. And though it had, it also brought an idea into your mind as you watched Jaehyun shuffle beneath the touch.

You brought your bottom lip between your teeth, clamping down on the flesh as your mind ran wild with thoughts. With hands balancing themselves on his muscle, your fingers began to slide up and down. Applying pressure and watching observantly as he squirmed beneath the touch. It was a shift in power than you hadn’t taken before and knowing it would anger him brought a familiar coil of heat to your stomach. His stirring only made you continue, lifting your grip higher until you cupped the warm, covered flesh of his inner thigh. Above the counter, you heard Jaehyun swallow a thick bout of anxiety. The noise only made your lips contort more, the swell of pride laying in your tummy raising until it was lodged deep in your chest. You imagined what would happen if you continued, how he would repay you. The more notions that spurred, the more you needed to touch him, needed to be close to him.

Upon your clothed knees, you shuffled nearer his crotch, placing your shoulders between his inner thighs. Forcing him to widen them even further, to cough above the table, trying to cover the noises of your movements. With one hand firmly stable on the top of his thigh, the other lifted to palm his member. Feeling out across the denim until you found the length, massaging it until he was hard. More discreet, throaty coughs pouring from above as you applied more pressure. Your fingers moved slowly, grinding against his jeans until you felt him almost retract with a small twitch. In his movement, you felt yourself begin to grin, proud of the affect you were having over him. An affect that he usually had over you in these situations. With slanted shoulders, you leant forward, dipping your head down and placing a kiss on his covered member. Although the barrier of denim was thick, the sudden jerk of his feet into your sides told you that he had felt it. A slight outline of your tinted lip balm furrowed into the material, almost obvious even in the dim light of the desks underbelly. You brought a finger upward, tracing the contour of your lips, fingers dipping near his length. Lips stretching wide in a proud grin.

In the heat of the enclosed space, you rested your head upon Jaehyun’s thigh, waiting for the radio show to follow to a close. Your cheek pressed supple against his jeans, eyes closing peacefully as you waited for what seemed to be years.

You had nearly fallen asleep when the noise stopped, ears perking up to listen as the sound of chairs rattled through your skull. Scrunching your eyes, you lifted the weight of your body from Jaehyun, allowing him to move. Unhooking his heels from your hips as he twisted his chair, so he could stand. He left the chair in its place, concealing your presence from Johnny who had stood up in a similar fashion moments before. You were left, only able to watch their feet once again. Eyes following their movements as they stood by the table, exchanging words and chuckles. Jaehyun seemed calm but then again, he masked his true emotions well and so, a pitter of anxiety coursed through your blood. Mixed in with a flushing round of excitement, a supple, mellow grin parting your lips. You became caught up in how exuberant you had been during the whole show that you missed any sign of Johnny leaving. The abrupt popping noise of the door closing snapping you back into your mind.

A sudden wave of silence fell over the studio, anticipation arriving to curl in your chest. The only part of Jaehyun you were able to see being his feet, the sneakers trailing against the carpet with reverberating scuffles. It took him two long strides to stand before the seat he had been placed in for the past hour, the air still empty with silence as you sat, merely waiting. Eyes fixating upon the scratches of dirt covering his shoes, the cuff of his jeans. The waiting seemed to go on forever, minutes ticking of simply watching his adroit movements, your throat clogging with the nerves. If the emptiness had gone on much longer, then perhaps you would have exited the safety of the under desk yourself but with the hint of that thought, Jaehyun lifted his voice higher.

‘You can come out now.’ He announced calmly, his voice never faltering but also never raising. His composure continued even when you knew you had pressed all of his buttons, and it only made everything he did more attractive. With his command, you finally managed to move your body. Stretching out tired limbs before careening your head to peek out from the table. Face feeling the cool air across its features as your eyes latched onto Jaehyun. His expressionless face, his hands hanging from his pockets. You supressed any signs of a smile, hauling your figure from beneath the counter and standing to level your face nearer his. With lips quivering in a slight beam, Jaehyun tilted his head down, expression becoming more intimidating than it had been. It only made your insides churn more, your bottom lips pulled between your teeth as your fingers clasped together.

‘I felt you teasing me under there.’ He said, in the same impassive tone in which he had ordered you out from under the table with. Your stomach swelled with coyness, lips turning further upward as you batted your eyelashes.

‘It was an accident.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ Jaehyun committed, pulling his fingers from inside his jean pockets. Allowing his hands to brush down beside his thighs, a slight slapping noise emanating into the room. Usually, from a slight gesture like that, you would retract into complying but in the comfortability, you were at ease with misbehaving. Leaning your weight upon one leg and shrugging at his words, feeling the warmth spread.

‘Then don’t believe me.’

‘Now you’re giving me attitude?’

You chuckled, ‘No,’ lips turning upward at the edges to form a confident smirk. While your mouth contorted itself, Jaehyun took a wide step toward you, body closing in at an alarming rate. Heat pooled from his stature, his hands curling by your waist but not touching you. In his gesture, your back touched the desk, spine aching into the material as Jaehyun became even closer.  

‘And smirking?’  

A thick swallowed emitted from your throat, lips threatening to let down the façade of strength as Jaehyun pressed his body to yours. Waist plush against the bottom of your stomach, where all the tension was still brewing. Jaehyun lifted his finger to trace the outline of your jaw, curling around the skin, distracting you as his other hand went awry. Strong grip snaking up your waist to cup your hip, taking it within his palm and firming clasping it. Before you knew it, Jaehyun had somehow turned you over and bent you over the table. Spreading your legs to stand between them as your chest lay flat against the counter-top. Cheek splaying out upon the counter as Jaehyun continued to grip your hips.

‘Jae,’ you almost laughed, an ease to your voice that he still enjoyed hearing in encounters like this. Your smile made it difficult to stay still against his touch, the excitement running rampant as his clench grew tighter. Jaehyun brushed his fingers up and down the covered skin, repeatedly drawing meaningless circles until they dipped below your skirt. Hitching the material up so he could hold over your waist and allow his eyes to skim over your bare skin.

‘Count to three, baby.’ Jaehyun requested, softening his voice to relax you along with the supple touches he applied to your bare hips. You knew what that meant and still, felt excited all the same. Rutting your waist upward to make it easier for him, smiling as the first word fell from your swollen lips.

‘One,’

Jaehyun lifted his flattened palm from your skin, only to return it with a slight slap. The sound ricocheting off the walls of the studio as a slight sting rang through your ass. His other hand tracing over the thigh high socks, his breath thick in the air above. Your eyes closed for a moment, bathing in the feeling before you were able to speak again.

‘Two,’ you heard a quiet scoff from behind you, the voice heavy and confident unlike the mess yours had become. Once again, Jaehyun brought his palm down against you, only this time the slap was sodden with force. An imprint surely left behind as you sucked in air to heave through the stinging. Jaehyun left his hand over your ass, calming the blushing skin as he waited for you to recover. Your throat coughed through the welt of desire and slight pain, hips rutting up again to signal more.

‘Three,’ your voice cracked, becoming no more than an exasperated whimper. With Jaehyun repeating his action once again, you became putty in his hands. Levering down with an impatient moan while your body tried to jut backward to touch him.

‘Good girl.’ He groaned, his grip remaining strong, holding you mere inches away as one hand went back to soothing circles into your hip. Jaehyun continued the palliating as his other hand worked to undo his belt. Trying to keep his motions silent as you lay forward, waiting helplessly for him to do what you knew he eventually would. Jaehyun tugged his jeans, allowing them to loosen and with a rushed scramble, fall to the floor to pool around his ankles. Your chest tightened at the noise, smile returning as you waited. His fingers suddenly hooking near your waist, threading through the delicate material of your underwear. With his clasp tight, Jaehyun pulled the cloth down to stay around your lower thighs, leaving you to part your legs a little less.

It took him another few moments to pull his length from inside his underwear. Letting it hit the coolness of the studio air as you, once again, raised your hips, becoming impatient. Jaehyun peered down at your figure, one hand coming down, gripping one hip. His waist lowered slightly, moving his member in one hand until it pressed at your entrance. Through the contact, your body shuddered slightly, a harsh intake of air passing through your lungs as you relaxed into him. Backing as much as Jaehyun would allow before he pushed himself the rest of the way. Sweeping forward until you had consumed him whole, a low groan seeping from behind you as you felt yourself fill up. Body cradling his length as he waited for you to become comfortable again. Legs stiff from the sudden fullness, body motionless as Jaehyun attempted to stop himself from bucking too soon. Only when your hips jutted backward did he begin to set a pace. At first, it was soft, gentle even, but with his want growing stronger and your hips backing to his increasingly often, Jaehyun let go of the reservation. Permitting himself to impel more viciously, the weight of him becoming sturdy inside of you, creating a ball of tension in your stomach. It grew gradually, snowballing with each merciless pound, each stroke that curled upward to reach spots Jaehyun always seemed to. His fingers bruised into your hips, leaving marks that would prove to you that this was more than just your imagination. The pooling yearn in your lungs would also prove it, your breathes becoming progressively shallow as your nails stretched against the table. Body doing anything to cope with the oncoming tide.

‘Jaehyun, I can’t,’

‘Breathe, baby, just breathe, you’re doing great. You look so beautiful in your,’ Jaehyun affirmed, words fading out as he breathed a moan, fingers circling your peach covered thighs as he sloped his hips upward. His length hooking so deep that you felt your mind fog with bliss. The ever-tightening coil in your stomach began to unravel, your heart desperately trying to keep up with Jaehyun’s pace. Feeling as his thrusts became uneven, his member twitching within you until you felt him loosen. His grip slacking for a moment as he attempted to recover from his high, the groan falling from his lips tipping you over the edge.  

‘I’m,’

‘I know, I know, let go.’

You followed his words exactly, rutting backward against him until you felt yourself release. Stomach detaching as you breathed out the loudest moan yet, clenching around Jaehyun as he met your noises with his own. Your lips pressed to the table, furiously missing the pressure of Jaehyun as he kept himself within you. Waiting until your body had calmed, legs able to hold any weight at all, your breaths pacifying. Once you had begun to respire at a normal rate, Jaehyun lifted himself from inside of your body, freeing himself with a deep groan. Face dipping down to leave a wet kiss upon your covered back, your spine arching at the feeling it caused. His hands remained on your hips for a longer moment, gliding against the skin until he felt it become calm enough for you to stand.

The weight of him behind you slackened a little, allowing you enough room to pull yourself to stand. Skirt falling from where Jaehyun had hooked it and dripping to cover your privates once more. Your feet took a moment to find a safe balance, hands coming down to feel for your underwear. Securing around the material just as Jaehyun had and lifting it to cradle you as it should, only now it became moistened with the leftover dribbles of what had occurred. It felt slightly uncomfortable but more importantly, it was a reminder of what had happened and for that, you were happy. Your thighs pressed together in the vapour, eyes peering up to meet Jaehyun. His back hunched over, hands tugging his jeans upward, his member already quilted by his own underwear. It seemed so monotonous and yet, observing him this way was so beautiful that you couldn’t peel your eyes away. You watched his actions until he fastened his belt back into place, fingers dropping to his side as he looked up.

His gaze fixated upon yours, the glossiness of his eyes melting into your stomach. You couldn’t help but smile despite the unknowingness of the situation; your mind still desperately wondering of what would happen next. You felt too nervous to ask, too afraid to ruin what had been an enjoyable evening for the both of you. Instead, your feet overlapped, legs shaking anxiously as Jaehyun became aware of your fear. His eyes mellowed into pity, something you hated him doing and so, in deflect, you tried to pry away from the topic.

‘I feel like I’m gonna pass out.’ You joked, lips parting in a tense chuckle, your expression still giving away your trepidation. Jaehyun knew and that you couldn’t change. You were left to watch as he took a step closer, body swelling nearer yours. His breath fanning against your face as he lifted his hand to brush against your throat. Bobbing past the furious pulse and cradling your jaw, touch slowly until it was soft.

‘Don’t pass out,’ he said, shaking his head overdramatically as he smiled. Your stomach loosened at his reassurance, body moulding into his touch as you mirrored his smile. ‘C’mon,’ Jaehyun mumbled, levering his body away from yours. Parting his hand from your jaw until it fell to clasp around your fingers. Threading your palms together as he began to walk toward the door. Your mind smothered with uncertainty. Eyebrows furrowing as Jaehyun lead you to the exit, not facing your confused expression as he continued to speak.

‘Let’s go grab some dinner.’

‘But, I,’ You mumbled nervously, causing Jaehyun to tilt his head back to face you. Panning over your tense features, his thumb coming over the back of your hand to soothe the skin.

‘You think I would fuck you in the studio if we weren’t back together,’

‘Well,’

‘Of course not,’ he shook his head once again, this time with a firmness he hadn’t used before. His face was stern yet somehow playful, allowing you to understand that he was being truthful.

‘Are you sure?’ You enquired another time, fingers tightening around his, becoming afraid of his answer.

‘Yeah,’ Jaehyun responded as though the question was nothing, shrugging in his mindlessness, his eyes alighting at the relaxing expression seeping over your features. ‘I love you, so we’ll figure something out when finals come around, we want to be together, we’ll be together, it’s that simple, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Cool, now, let’s go get some food, I’m hungry.’ Jaehyun grinned, clutching your fingers in return, a smothering sense of pride dripping in your stomach. Relief that despite everything, he could joke with you as if no measure of time had been spent apart.  

#jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jung jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun imagines #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 smut #nct 2018 #nct u #nct 127 #nct 116 #jung yoonoh smut #jung yoonoh imagine #johnny seo #johnny seo smut

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Long Nights, Hidden Thoughts

Original prompt: can you do tom and a cast mate (reader) on spider man 2 and falling in love slowly? I WOULD DIE FOR THAT!

Part: 5/6

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Word Count: 2012

Warnings: None

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4

Starting the scene over, the director decides to try the new version one more time before going back to the original outline in the script. Either way you’ll have to see Tom kiss Zendaya, but after your kiss you don’t care as much. You can still feel Tom’s lips on yours and that’s all you need to remind yourself that the scene means nothing.

The scene starts the same as before. Peter takes MJ out first and you can feel the warmth of the fire against your skin. Time ticks by and Tom hasn’t come back. You start to grow worried but you try to tell yourself that he just messed up so they are trying to restart the scene.

You hear people yelling outside and you move to the closest window to get a better look. The director looks as though he is shouting at you while waving his arms sporadically. Finding Tom you see three people holding him back as he fights to break free. What the hell is going on? You think to yourself.

             Just then you feel the ground beneath you start to shake as shards from the rooms beneath you spill out on the ground below you. Panic rises in your throat as you realize that someone detonated the explosion. They were supposed to wait till we had a good cut, you actually found it insane that they went ahead and planted it.

             A rush of warm air blows you from the platform as you scream. Your body is flown above everyone else taking shelter as pieces of the building are soaring next to you. Something hard hits your head making everything blur before it all goes black.

 ***

“I.. I don’t understand what you are saying.” A familiar British voice fills your ears. “When will she wake up? It has been three days!”

“We aren’t sure.” You’re guessing it’s the doctor. “We believe she can hear you and possibly feel your touch, but we just have to wait for her to open her eyes.”

             You hear footsteps heading out of the room as you feel a warm hand take yours. Silence seals the air once a female, that you can only guess is Zendaya, excuses herself to the café. A soft pair of lips press lightly against your forehead as warm salty water falls from the air.

“So umm, doc says you can hear me.” Tom’s raspy voice fills your ears. “I hope that’s true because if you can hear me then maybe you’ll wake up.”

A forced chuckle escapes from him. “Kind of hard to believe that just three days ago I caught you running around your apartment naked.” If you could roll your eyes right now you would. “Don’t worry I didn’t see much, but umm… you looked good.”

             Unable to move you wish you could thump Tom on the head. You wish you could see that stupid grin you hear in his voice. The air thickens as more silence settles in. Has it been like this the last three days?

“Then we kissed…” You can sense the strain in his voice, “ and now here you are. Which is really the last place you should be.”

             You just want to wake up and engulf Tom in a hug. Tell him that you’re okay, that you’re not going anywhere. You wish he would go home, he shouldn’t see you like this. It’s not fair. He’s your best friend, with the opportunity to be something more, but instead of figuring that out you are hooked up to a bunch of tubes in a hospital bed.

“Hey Tom, honey you need to go home.” A strange woman’s voice appears in the doorway. It’s soft, sweet even. “You know like take a shower, eat something.”

“Mom, I’m fine here.” Tom protests. Holy crap! This is how I finally get to meet his mom? You internally kick yourself. This could have went a lot better, you know at the very least you should have the capability to talk.

“Thomas Holland you need to take care of yourself.” She scolds him. “If not for yourself or me, go for (Y/N). She’s probably tired of smelling you anyway. I’ll stay here till you get back, okay?”

             Tom must have agreed because he slips his hand out of yours. He places a kiss on the top of your forehead and promises that he’ll be back as soon as possible. Hearing him leave you notice the faint sound of his mom taking the seat next to you.

“Probably not the way you envisioned meeting me.” You can hear the slight smile in her voice. “I pictured Thomas bringing you for a dinner, maybe for Christmas.” She pauses. “Well we still can. Tom hasn’t stopped talking about you since the moment you walked on set that first day. I haven’t seen him like this since he was twelve and Mackenzie moved next door.”

“Hey Tom – Oh sorry I thought Tom was still here.” Zendaya awkwardly comes into the room.

             Her and Mrs. Holland talk for a little for a while to catch up on life. Obviously they’ve met each other on numerous occasions, they converse like old friends meeting for coffee.

“So Zendaya, could you tell me a little bit about (Y/N)?” Tom’s mom asks uncomfortably.

“Honestly she’s great.” Someone lightly claps their hands together, you guess Zendaya. “Tom knows her best so you should really be asking him, but she has this air about her that makes the room so much lighter. It definitely shows on your son’s face, constantly smiling. I’ve been wanting them together since the first reading of the script.”

“I saw the way he was looking at her when I came it.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I think the boy may be in love already.”

             In love already. Love already. Those words repeat in your head for what seems like forever. You miss the rest of their conversation, only to snap out of it once you hear a familiar male voice enter the room. Tom makes his normal awkward entrance that you can only imagine is exploding with unbelievable cuteness. Honestly you can’t wait to wake up.

“What did I miss?” His refreshed voice sheepishly asks. “Is there any change with (Y/N)?”

“No honey,” his mother answers. “There has been no change. Zendaya and I have been catching up, you know girl talk.”

“Now I’m worried,” Tom’s voice gets closer. “When you say ‘girl talk’ it usually means you are investigating something. So what are you trying to figure out?”

             Mrs. Holland and Zendaya try to make up some sort of story. You suppose the last thing they want him to know is that they were talking about you, or rather you and him. You don’t know if it’s because you’re not completely conscious, but you’re not really worried about it. Every mother must wonder if the woman their son may or may not be with is good enough for him. Silently you pray that you are, or at least can get on the road to be.

 A Week Later

             So much can happen in a week. When you work for a movie franchise they have deadlines to meet. As someone who has a great deal amount of lines, there’s only so much they film without you. And that’s the problem you are facing, if you don’t wake up then they will have no choice but to recast you in a few weeks.

“Come on (Y/N) please wake up,” Tom whines. “I’m doing everything I can to stall your scenes. Please – babe please wake up we need you. I need you.” He takes your hand in his as kisses the back of it. “I need you.”

             You push to have even just your fingers move. Scared you will be replaced in a few days you give it everything you have. It’s an interesting experience, it feels like you’re trying to push a basketball through a golf-ball sized hole but with your mind and muscles. Nothing happens. There is no big explosion in to waking up or fuzzy feeling when your fingers move. Or maybe there is, you haven’t been able to do anything yet. What is taking so long?

“I’m going to get a banana split,” he lets go of your hand and places it gently on the your abdomen. “and I am going to get one for you too.”

             Tom has been trying to do stuff all week in attempt to get you to wake up. It’s honestly adorable and you wish it was working. The doctors say that it could work but that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Usually it just happens when you’re ready, whenever that is supposed to be. You have no idea. If you knew how to you’d wrap your arms around him instead of laying here almost as lifeless as a corpse.

             After a few minutes footsteps appear leading next to you. Tom smears some whip cream on your bottom lip. The coolness of the dessert is irritating because all you want to do is simply wipe it with your tongue. He has done this with chocolate ice cream and has waved so many cookies under your nose it’s almost comical.

             Suddenly you feel the cool air seep into the inside walls of your mouth. The sensation of whip cream rests on your tongue as a blurry outline of shapes come into view. You can finally see the tear stained eyes on Tom and you do everything you can to keep yours from tearing up as well. You want to see everything clearly.

“Can you pass the bowl and a spoon, please?” You try to ask nonchalant, like you have only just awoken from a two hour nap.

             Trying to adjust yourself, you situated the top part of your body to sit up slightly. Tom just stares at you in shock, he probably thinks he’s just dreaming. What if you’re dreaming? But you know you’re not, it’s too real to be a dream.

             Tom runs out and grabs the nearest nurse to page the doctor. You know he wants to make sure you are okay and know what should happen next, but you sort of wished he waited so you could have some alone time. You know hospitals love to run tests. When you’re dad was in his that accident, that ended up taking his life, they put him in any machine you could think of.

“(Y/N) we want to set you up for an MRI,” the doctor flashes the light in your eyes once more before putting it away in his coat pocket. “I’ll have a nurse come and get you when we are ready, and in the mean time try not to fall asleep.”

             You and Tom watch him go. Once he’s out of view you turn to look at Tom but instead find your lips meet his. Instantly you melt into the kiss as you tangle your hands in his soft hair. His warm hands press against your back bringing you in closer but you’re are not close enough. You want to be so close, no air can pass between the two of you. Is it possible to be this hungry for someone?

“You’re here.” Tom gasps, breaking the kiss. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” is all you manage to get out. “And I heard everything.”

“You did? You – You umm, you heard everything?” He stammers out.

“Yes and for the love of God never wave another cookie under my nose!”

             The two of you just laugh and you explain what his mom was talking to Zendaya about. You had to convince him not to let them know that he knows now, you do want to be on her good side. Tom fills you in about how the movie is going and how everyone will be so excited about you being able to come back to work. There’s not a silent moment between the two of you until the nurse comes in and takes you to your MRI scan.

<---Previous  Next--->

Tag List: @racewife2004  @fijiangecko @world-moon @meyrapp @kwalshh @evans-against-the-wall @memyselfandandrea @maybesomday @stevieboyharrington @tacohead13 @anini71 iske

#spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #kissing #coma #im sorry #sad #painful #happy #banana split #love at first sight #long nights hidden thoughts #fandoms #marvel #mcu #avengers #series #masterlist #love #loss #explosion #set #spiderman 2 #gif #adorable #in love #fanfic

[quilser]

Perfect P4 ~ Choni:

(A/N) Again with the exposition/plot driving nonsense. I’m well aware that people are here for the smut. Make no mistake. I am here for it too, but please bare with me because while I know no one wants to read this I PROMISE some good “wholesome” fun in the next update if you catch my drift ;) Thanks for the patience pals 

Read on ao3

Pairing: Toni Topaz x Cheryl Blossom

Word Count: 2335

Rating: T (pretty much this chapter only)

Warnings: Literally none. This is about as clean of a chapter as I’m willing to write. Some fluff but not even enough to warn about. If this wasn’t so integral to the plot I wouldn’t post it. Jeesh....

Summary: After two years, two past lovers are reunited. The end result is one neither of them wanted.

Parts: |1| |2| |3| |4| |5| |6| |7| |8| |9|

|~~|

If it wasn’t for the alarm blaring from her phone, Cheryl might have never woken up from the dream she’d been having. It was as though fate was playing some cruel trick on her by plucking her away right at the moment that she most wanted to stay.

She’d dreamt of Toni. She’d dreamt of her eyes and her skin and her hands. She’d dreamt of the way Toni’s mouth had attached itself to her own in a mixture of hunger and desperation while her mind flew in a fury of passion and lust.

Cheryl had liked her dream very much.

Upon starting to open her eyes, Cheryl noticed that light was already streaming into them. Confusion set in as Cheryl remembered that she’d come during the afternoon and any alarm of hers was set to go off in the morning. That’s when it hit her that it must, in fact, be morning once more.

Taking a breath in attempt to wake herself more, Cheryl noticed the weight that had settled itself on her chest. It wasn’t crushing or even uncomfortable, but it was strange.

With another rally of great effort, Cheryl managed to open a single eye even in her drowsy state. The image in front of her brought back more memories than she cared to admit.

On top of her chest laid the pink haired beauty she’d only just been dreaming about. The girl’s face was hidden by her hair, but the slow pacing of air moving itself across Cheryl’s chest allowed her to know that the other girl was still asleep.

The night hit her in a rush. All the events leading up to the now naked girl lying on top of her seemed more like a hazy fantasy than a true memory. Everything that transpired the night prior had been something Cheryl had been silently hoping for ever sense they ceased two years prior.

Smiling to herself, Cheryl became aware once more of the alarm that had been going off for a while. The fact that the annoying sound hadn’t managed to wake the sleeping girl on top of her almost made Cheryl laugh, but realizing the position she was in she decided against it.

With a slow reach, Cheryl managed to grab the phone that was whistling off before turning it off and placing it beside the pillow where her head sat.

Seeing as she was the only one awake between the pair in the room, Cheryl took it on herself to analyze the features of the girl she’d once known like the back of her hand.

To do this however, a few loose strands of hair had to be moved to the other side of Toni’s face. The action felt far more intimate to Cheryl than it should have. After the night they had prior, it was as if she was breaking a more intense character in order to satisfy the part of her heart that remained open for this particular individual; remained open for Toni.

As her fingers traced the outline of Toni’s jaw line in an attempt to remove the hair in her way, Cheryl felt a slight wiggle from the other girl. Fearing being caught in her less than sexual action, Cheryl stilled instantly and stiffened in attempts of not waking the other girl further.

After waiting a few minutes with no further movements from the other girl, Cheryl finished moving the girl’s hair out of the way before placing her hands at either said of her, in no way touching Toni.

Cheryl took a few more minutes to admire the girl above her. The way her pink tresses spread gracefully onto her back and slightly onto the bed from the length made Cheryl all that more happy.

Placing her once removed hands onto the sides of Toni’s waist, she attempted to push the girl off her stomach gently, but when her strength proved useless Cheryl realized that all she could do was wake up the other.

Thankfully, that wasn’t quite needed.

“What are you doing?” The voice shocked Cheryl from her thoughts of planning to move Toni. She had to take a moment to think before answering.

“I’m trying to get up.” Toni didn’t respond, but instead planted her hands firmly on either side of Cheryl’s head before pushing up and rolling to the right.

The new freedom her body felt was painful in a way. Although her entire intention had been to remove Toni from herself, the other girl’s willingness to do that for her was slightly disheartening.

Cheryl took a deep breath before moving to get up, but was interrupted by Toni’s voice.

“Cheryl, we need to talk.” The phrase was a scary one. Originally, Cheryl had been at the delivering end of such a statement, now it seemed that the tables had turned between the two of them.

“But we can talk after breakfast.” With that Toni got up in a quick blur that Cheryl was sure she could’ve missed if her blinking had been timed right. She wasn’t sure that she’d even seen correctly until the empty bed was the only sight she was met with.

With a sigh, Cheryl made it into the bathroom that was opposite the bedroom and, between getting ready in some fashion, was repetitively wishing away the ending of whatever breakfast Toni had mentioned.

Toni stood in the kitchen completely naked after attempting to get out of the room as fast as possible. Not knowing what else to do, she immediately curled up beside the cabinets facing away from the entrance to the hallway.

Her body felt broken. Maybe broken was the wrong term. It felt more like she was in a hostile takeover between her mind and what the rest of her body kept trying to do. The warring sides of her left little room for comfort and no room for the feelings her heart was conjuring up.

For so long she’d pushed away the feelings that had overtaken her the night before. She’d screamed so loud just to drown them out and now it was as if a mussel had been placed on the rational side of her.

Cheryl was never supposed to get to her again, but not much can be said for what had already been done. The way the other girl stared at her with those eyes glossed over in a blissful ignorance of themself and the way her lips curved when she thought of something she liked more so than when she saw it.

All of that had been reintroduced into Toni’s life so recently and she hadn’t been prepared. How could she be? People always go with the path of least resistance and after spending so long in attempts to forget someone it’s only natural to go the easier way of remembering them better than you ever had.

Toni felt her eyes beginning to well with tears. Her throat had begun to feel scratchy and raw, but she wouldn’t allow herself to feel this. This was the one thing she could still control.

Mentally deciding that enough was enough, Toni washed up using the sink in the kitchen before grabbing a t-shirt and shorts from the laundry room.

Cheryl wasn’t far behind. After cleaning the sticky mess that coated her thighs and washing her face of the makeup she definitely shouldn’t have slept in, Cheryl began to feel like a human being again.

Exiting the bathroom, she noticed that Toni hadn’t seemed to return to the room and worried that she’d truly been left alone. With the sound of a television coming from the living room though, Cheryl knew she wasn’t by herself just yet.

Grabbing a loose fitting top she saw laying on the floor, Cheryl quickly realized the she’d be severely undressed in her current state. Looking around the room she noticed a closet and a few other pieces of clothes strunned around, but something in her told her that going through Toni’s things, even if for simple reasons, would be less than preferred.

Accepting her fate, Cheryl exited the room and moved down the hallway and into the living room with a zoned out Toni staring at the screen in front of her.

Cheryl was careful to sit at the very opposite end of the couch from Toni. This caused Toni to glance up at the other girl before laughing quietly to herself. Cheryl just so happened to notice this.

“What?” Cheryl attempted to not sound defensive, but the entire situation of being in Toni’s trailer after what transpired last night made her feel entirely too vulnerable.

“Nothing, it’s just…you know we had sex last night, right?” Cheryl felt her face heat up with Toni’s bluntness and she turned her head away to avoid any more patronizing. In hindsight, sitting close together on the couch would probably be the least intimate thing they’d done in the past few hours.

Seeing Cheryl turn her head out of embarrassment, Toni couldn’t stifle her much louder laugh. This caused Cheryl to quickly whip her head around to stare intently at Toni as if begging her to understand her motives. When Toni only continued laughing, Cheryl felt the need to explain herself.

“Look, I was just trying to be…” Cheryl halted her speech feeling like her words matched an entirely different situation. This did halt Toni’s laughter though, and instead replaced it with a grimacing look directed at Cheryl.

“What? To be respectful, kind, maybe nice? I’m angry Cheryl. Not broken.” Toni’s words lashed at Cheryl like claws. It was obvious that she’d struck a chord, but the words Toni spoke were less a jab at Cheryl and more a way of convincing herself of what she knew to be a lie.

“Look, I’m sorry. This all a bit…strange…after all these years.” Toni couldn’t debate this. She instead settled on allowing her eyes to return to the television and a silence took over the room.

After some time, Toni got up without a word a walked silently into the kitchen.

As soon as Toni reached the kitchen, she was quick to open the fridge a pull out what Cheryl quickly identified as a pizza box before she proceeded to grab a slice from inside of it. She took a bite while still holding the box.

Toni made a glance into Cheryl’s eyes, silently beckoning her into the kitchen where Cheryl found a pizza box shoved in her direction still without a word.

Looking up to see that Toni wasn’t looking at her anymore after handing her the box, Cheryl opened it and pulled out the one remaining slice before placing the box on the counter behind her. Toni looked up long enough to see this as with the box being placed down, Toni continued eating her slice.

Both girls remained in the kitchen eating away at their pizza until finally, as had occurred last night, there was nothing else to eat and nothing else to look at.

“So…we need to talk about…last night.” Toni spoke in a hesitant voice that took Cheryl off guard given her previous confidence.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Cheryl, with an equally hesitant voice, replied only to watch Toni shift awkwardly in place.

“I’m sorry.” Cheryl was once again taken off guard by Toni’s statement. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what Toni was apologizing for. “I’m sorry that I let my anger get the best of me last night and forced you into stuff that you weren’t comfortable with.

Cheryl was certain that her and Toni must have been talking about different occasions as she by no means showed any signs of discomfort last night. If anything, she was certain she’d been a bit more agreeable than even she was used to.

“Toni, you don’t need to apologize for anything. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do last night.” Cheryl had to fight off the urge to walk over to the girl and place a hand on her shoulder as a sign of reassurance, but when she saw the girl obviously not believing her, she couldn’t stop herself.

She placed her hand carefully onto Toni’s shoulder, being wary of any move made by Toni to distance them, but when Toni only seemed to lean more towards Cheryl, the courage sprang in Cheryl to start sliding her hand up and down Toni’s arm as a continued display of sincerity.

“You still shouldn’t have been subjected to that anger. I should’ve done a better job at controlling myself.” Cheryl shook her head at this. Toni’s eyes were turned down not allowing her to see the action, but Cheryl was absolutely certain she had to get the point across.

“Toni, I’m the one who should be apologizing. You’re making it sound like you’re angry for nothing and you’re not. I know you feel like that angry part of you is wrong, but it isn’t. It’s exactly the part you should feed into when with me, because right now, I deserve it.”

Toni’s face remained stunned for a while. Cheryl wasn’t quite sure when it got to be that way, but it didn’t seem to be going away any time soon.

“I’m not blaming you Toni. I’m not asking for an apology. I’m asking you to let it out. Anything that you feel you need to. Throw it at me. I can take it, for you.” Toni’s tears that she once fought back began to pool in her eyes.

Try as she might, the anger that Cheryl left her with wasn’t something she could shake. For the past two years, she’d attempted every tip on forgiveness, read ever book, examined every solution. All she managed to do was realize that nothing worked.

With the opportunity presenting itself so well before her to let go, even for a moment, Toni couldn’t miss it. Even as her brain screamed at her to stop, her mouth moved of its own accord.

“I hate you.”

#choni #choni fic #cheryl x toni #cheryl blossom #cheryl bombshell #riverdale #riverdale fic #perfect #part 4 #this is boring #unless you actually like the story don't read this #seriously lame this one is #should I post something right after this: no #but I will #because SMUT IS GOOD

[miamaroo]

Northern Migration- Chapter 16 (Note + Preview)

You can’t believe I’m already updating? Neither can I! There’s a lot of parts of this chapter that came to me really easily, and I can only hope that you guys have as much fun reading them as I did writing them. As always, before you give the rest of this post a read over, please read the actual chapter beforehand so that you’ll actually know what the heck I’m talking about.

Spoilers Ahead!

I just want to mention that this scene with Taako and Ren originally went on for so much longer than it does here. There was about twice the amount of bantering and an entire scene with Johann that I had to cut due to space. Knowing that this scene used to look like, this genuinely feels like the bare bones of what I wanted to write.

So why cut it down so much? I originally planned for it to be about 1.5K words long. It was 4.5K. I managed to just about cut it in half, but still. A lot of this arc is going to be weirdly paced now that this took over more space here than it should have. As you may have guessed, I did not take into account needing to write not only the Wonderland scenes but also advance all 20 of my subplots before deciding to spread the Taako and Ren backstory throughout the arc.

I’m still not going to make an outline lmao

Since he’s dead, I’m legally obligated to feature Brian as much as I can during flashback scenes. I love him and I’m sad he had to die off screen back in chapter 2.

I set up about two chapters ago that Taako is a strong enough wizard to make Ren susceptible to sleeping spells. That actually did not come out of left field.

I don’t actually know what I can say about the Wonderland scenes. I definitely feel like the fighting here is better than it was in the last arc, though trust me when I say that the goofiness of the glass shark reference is not lost on me. I got to make it even more MBMBAM filled than it already is.

Okay, so let’s talk about Sloane and Hurley. I’ve always wanted to put them in this fic, especially since this is an ensemble story so I have no reason not to feature them. The problem came in how they were originally in a plotline with Angus that I ended up changing at the last minute in order to do something else with his character. Without really knowing where I was going to go with their storyline now, I ended up putting off their introductions over and over again until finally figuring out where they were going to piece into things. The problem then became that, unlike Isaak who I introduced long before his plot is really going to get started, they’re now being introduced one chapter and then basically springing into their storyline right away. It’s technically better pacing to not let things just sit like I have been, but I am aware of how really quickly inserting them in is going to make it seem like their plot is rushed and shoved in there. So, to everyone out there, I’m sorry. I’m just a damn fool who can’t make up her mind with what she wants to do with certain characters.

Also, I should talk about Sloane’s characterization. So after looking over some of Sloane’s scenes again, I kind of realize that Griffin didn’t really give us a lot on her. I can presume a lot about her based upon her being a thief and such, but beyond that? There’s not a lot. We do know that she fell to the Gaia Sash’s thrall because it offered her power. I really focused in on that idea for her characterization, sort of incorporating what fanon says is her personality with this sense of powerlessness. I hope it works as well as I hope it does.

And, lastly, here’s the preview for the next chapter:

Six bulbs gleam over the Wheel of Sacrifice.

“You’re kidding!” Davenport exclaims, struggling to his uncertain feet. He squints at the lights, as if his bad vision will clear and it will just all be a misunderstanding. “That’s nuts!”

Lydia rolls her shoulders, humming a note as she sways in a little dance. “Wonderland is all about giving up the things you don’t need in order to get the things you want,” she says. “If you don’t think there’s anything else to give up, you’re free to leave. But the Animus Bell will go to those, mmm, other people by default. And aren’t you on some sort of god given mission?” She turns away. “But what do I know? If you want to leave, then I’ll point you to the door.”

“Captain,” Lucretia says. She kneels next to Julia, sorting through her bag for her mundane medical kit. Even if she can’t heal, she can at least stop the bleeding. “This feels bad.”

“Totally, but we gotta keep going.” Julia bites back a groan as she turns herself over, able to face the wheel. “That whole last round was on me and I messed up. You both have a hundred years more experience that any of those guys. It has—” She coughs, a little spurt of blood dripping down her chin. “It has to get better.”

“We can only pray,” Davenport says. “But we still have six spins.”

“That’s two each,” Julia says.

“Or it’s three for Davenport and me, and none for you.” Lucretia starts unspooling a roll of white bandages. “Julia, you’re barely alive right now. We can’t make you do that.”

Julia huffs. “Well, you’ve two options. You fix me up and let me have my share, or I get up right now, march over there, and spin as many times as I can before I die from blood loss.”

Lucretia scowls. “I will not hesitate to cast hold person on you.”

“Julia, we’ll see how you’re feeling in a bit. If you’re fine, you can go last.” Davenport ignores how Lucretia mutters under her breath, focusing on adjusting his red uniform so that he can have some semblance of dignity. He combs his fingers through his hair, adjusts his mustache, then marches over to the wheel. “Alright, Lydia. I’m ready.”

She grins, large and broad like a Cheshire cat. “And here I was thinking you were going to quit on me. You’re very noble, captain.”

He doesn’t respond, merely taking the wheel in hand and giving it a hearty push.

The wheel clicks and clacks as it spins, the colors shifting as an optical illusion before it slows to a stop. Instinctively, he steps forward, trying to make out the symbol through his blurry vision.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Lydia says.

#the adventure zone #taz #taz balance #taako #lucretia #davenport #taz fanfiction #julia burnsides #taz taako #taz lucretia #taz davenport #taz hurley #taz sloane #taz fanfic #taz nm #taz northern migration #updates