#this desperately needs page breaks but I’m scared of how long it’ll look

[afeb]

Bucky Barnes - Salvation

long and kinda slow-burn :)

“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.

“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.

I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.

I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.

Fuck.

Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?

“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.

“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.

“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.

“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”

I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.

“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.

Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”

I furrowed my brows. “What?”

He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.

He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”

“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.

“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.

“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.

I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.

“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.

“Nice place.” He complimented.

“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”

He nodded. “Anything special?”

I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”

“That would be...nice.” He smiled.

I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.

“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.

“You’re being very kind.” He said.

“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.

He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”

I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.

“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”

I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.

“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”

He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”

His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.

The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”

His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”

He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.

“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”

“Thank you.”

“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.

It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.

We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”

I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”

His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”

I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”

He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”

He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.

Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.

To James B -

Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N

I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.

From James B -

Hey! No worries. Heading over now.

I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.

“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.

James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”

“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.

“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.

After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.

“Done.”

“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”

James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”

“Thank you James.”

“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”

“Yeah,”

We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.

“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.

I cocked a brow. “No, you?”

“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”

I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”

“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”

“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.

“Why would you think that?” He frowned.

“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”

Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”

I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”

His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.

“I forgive you.”

Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.

“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.

“You aren’t.” I promised.

“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.

“Then do something good.”

His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.

“Please,” he mumbled against me.

“Yes.”

Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.

“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.

“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.

His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.

“There?” I nodded at his question.

His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.

“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.

“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.

“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”

I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.

“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.

“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.

“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.

“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.

“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.

I bucked my hips. “Please,”

I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.

I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“

“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.

I nodded and cried. “Yes!”

“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.

“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”

“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”

My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.

“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.

“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.

We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.

“I already...just then...” he blushed.

“Really?” I giggled.

“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.

I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”

He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”

#bucky #barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x reader #sebastian #stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan smut #marvel #marvel smut

[jisungful]

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

#chenle #zhong chenle #nct chenle #nct #chenle fanfic #chenle ff #chenle x reader #chenle timestamps #chenle blurbs #chenle drabbles #chenle imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct horror #nct thriller #kpop #chenle fluff #chenle angst #jisung #nct jisung #park jisung #nct jisung imagines #nct jisung x reader #nct jisung fanfic #nct fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #nct jisung scenarios #chenle scenarios #nct dream

[lottiebagley]

Every lie you ever told- Draco Malfoy

She can't help the grin that sits on her lips as she strolls through the library.

She had entered the room in a foul mood, after a long day and detention with professor Snape she hadn't been in the mood to spend her evening alone working in the library, but her friends had been too busy to accompany her and she really needed to finish the essay she had due in tomorrow.

She would have normally asked Draco. He was the best boyfriend she could ask for. Completely doting on her, anything she ever wanted he was right there with it. He loved her for exactly who she was and she felt the same way. She would do anything for the boy.  They had gotten together almost a year prior, having met at a party in the Malfoy manor. She was the year below him so despite knowing of each other and sharing a common room they had never spoken until then.

She hadn't had a chance to find him to ask him to join her and it was pure luck that he was say with Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. She got on well with his friends and knew they wouldn't mind her joining to do her essay. She also knew afterwards Draco would probably take her hand and pull her into a broom closet, complaining she had distracted him whilst he studied with a smirk on his face.

She approaches the table from behind, having recognised the group of fifth year slytherins from behind and was preparing to wrap her arms around her boyfriend and press a loving kiss to his cheek when she heard it.

"Draco, you have to tell her. It will be so much worse if she finds out from anyone else," Blaise was urging. She could feel it in her gut. They were talking about her.

"That won't happen. I've covered my tracks, she'll never know, it's for her own good," Draco states, his tone cold. She knows she shouldn't be listening but she can't bare to walk away now.

"There's no way Parkinson won't tell her, not now she knows," Blaise pesters. So Pansy was a part of this. That made the girls blood burn.

Pansy Parkinson was a sore spot in the couples relationship. She had consistently been rude and hurtful towards the girl at the beginning of her relationship with Draco. The girl has spoken to her boyfriend about it after he found her crying, assured her that Pansy was nothing to him. He shot down the rumour he has dated the Parkinson witch. They had slept together that night, it was the girls first time and Draco had been perfect. It was when she realised she was in love with her  boyfriend, not that she told him until two months after.

"She will believe me over Parkinson," Draco shrugs

"Weird considering your relationship is built on lies," Blaise laughs. She isn't sure how to react. She can feel tears prickling her eyes as she watches her boyfriend threaten his friend, she has never been anything but honest with Draco . Had he really lied to her?

**

"There you are, I've been missing you," he grins as he drops onto the seat in front of his girlfriend, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaning back in the arm chair. The common room is empty other than them.

"Here I am," she shrugs, not even looking up from the book she's reading. The truth is she's been avoiding him for the past two weeks, not sure how to bring up what she knows. Not sure is she wants to.

"You didn't miss me too," he pouts, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when she shrugs as response. Normally she would giggle and assure him she did, climbing into his lap and whispering to him about her day as he presses kissed to her neck making her blush. Then again normally she wouldn't let days pass without them seeing each other. "Where've you been anyway? You've been MIA for days," he questions

"I've been around. Busy," she shrugs. He can't help the jealous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Who had she been with? He has found her friends to ask where she was multiple times. Scoured the whole castle and been unable to find the girl he adored.

"Why are you being like this?" He questions. They never fight and it felt wrong to use his cold tone with her and yet here he was. She groans, folding the page of her book and placing it down on the side  table next to her armchair.

"Like what?" She questions, he scoffs at that

"You're pulling away, all distant and standoffish," he accuses

"I haven't-"

"Don't insult both our intelligence by denying it," he speaks through gritted teeth.

"Fine. I heard you in the library two weeks ago. Blaise said our relationship was built on lies. What did that mean?" She questions. He looks startled. Like a deer in the headlight. Like a man caught red handed.

"It meant nothing, Zabini is stupid," Draco tests and there's another lie

"Draco tell me the truth,"

"About what?" He questions. She stands up now

"Everything! How much do you lie to me to not know what bit of truth I want?" She demands, pacing now. He groans, throwing his head back

"Fine. I will tell you. But you can't over react," he decides to ignore the scoff she lets out.

"When we first met I was using you," he admits. She could feel her heart breaking. She had always found Draco attractive, and from the moment they spoke she could feel herself falling.

"I had no interest in you. I wanted to make Parkinson jealous so I used you," he continues. "That doesn't change how I feel for you now, I'm so in love with you it's the scariest thing in the world,"

"For how long?"

"Four months," he admits. She feels like her whole world stops.

"Draco, we slept together when we had only been together for three. You slept with me to make Pansy jealous?" She can feel the tears pouring from her eyes. She had been in love and he had been using her. His heart breaks at the sight, breaks at how she flinches away when he moves to comfort her.

"I took it too far, I know I did, I just-"

"Draco I gave you my virginity! You knew that! It meant something to me and you knew that too! I realised I was in love with you that night!" She shouts. His heart breaks. He has fallen for her so hard that Pansy truly never received a second thought anymore but how could he ever make her believe that now.

"Angel, I love you so much, it just took me a bit longer,"

"Everything about us is a lie!"

"No, no, how I feel about you. Everything I've said to you. None of it is a lie!"

"How can I ever believe you?" She questions, it's quiet, he can tell that she wants to believe him but knows how much it would destroy her.

"I don't know," he admits, his heart is broken now "please, just forgive me and put all of this behind us,"

"How can I forgive you? I don't even know what is true anymore,"

"I'll do anything,"

"Write me a list. Write me a list of every lie you ever told me and I'll decide if I can forgive you," she states before turning on her heel and fleeing to her room, sobbing to her best friend.

**

"Leave her alone Draco," the voice is sharp in his ear. Her best friend had been overly protective over this past 48 hours, not letting Draco anywhere near the girl he believed to be the love of his life.

She looks dishevelled as she sits at breakfast, her friends comforting her. Her hair is messy and her eyes have deep and dark bags under them like she hasn't slept. Her face blotchy from crying. He knows he looks equally broken.

"Just give me a minute, please?" He asks her best friend, he's nervous, knows she doesn't deserve this. Knows he will never be worthy of her and never was.

"No,"

"It's fine," the girl croaks looking up to her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend? She's not really sure where they stand anymore.

"Are you okay?" Draco asks as he pushes past her friend to sit next to her on the bench, wanting so badly to touch her, hold her too him but he's too scared to try. Too scared to be shot down.

She shrugs, desperate for him to hold her and makes this all go away but too awkward to ask him too.

"Are you?" She questions

"No. It's my own fault though," he admits "I wrote it. The list I mean," he continues, pulling the envelope from  his pocket. "It's every lie I ever told you. I'm truly sorry," he finishes placing the letter in her hand before standing up and walking away.

**

She doesn't open it until two days later, too scared to see what it says. To have any more precious memories crash and burn around her.

She pulls the envelope open, heart beating out of her chest as she sits on her bed in the empty dorm.

Darling, This is a list of every lie I ever told. Know I regret them all. 1) I never dated Pansy (I did for seven months) 2) that I was originally interested in you (you know that one though) 3) that I wasn't jealous when Zabini kissed your cheek that one time ( I punched him for it) 4) that I hadn't thought of another girl in months when we first slept together (I can't believe I ever stooped so low. I regret it with every fibre of my being. I first realised my feelings for you were becoming genuine that night)

The list goes on, three whole pieces of parchment but by the time she's over the initial bad ones they're almost sweet. That it didn't hurt when she accidentally slapped him. That he hadn't had a nightmare. That he hadn't been utterly distracted by how beautiful she is and accidentally zoned out when she was talking a thousand times. That he wasn't nervous when he met her family for the first time. That he wasn't scared she was going to leave him when she met his.

When she gets to the end she's in tears, every lie he told since the bad ones had been sweet, had been to make her happy. It's then that she realises something, he loved her as much as she loved him he just started a little later.

She knows it'll be hard to work through it but she also knows that for him it's worth it. He lied to her time and time again, but for the most part his lies had been to protect her or to make her happy.

She can't stop her feet moving on their own accord as she jogs down the stairs, pushing through the crowds in the corridor as she approaches the great hall knowing he will be there.

She sees him in the corridor outside the hall, looking as heartbroken as the last time she saw him. Surrounded by his friends. She approaches them and grabs his hand spinning him around.

His eyes widen at the sight of her.

"Draco Malfoy, look me in the eye and tell me honestly. Are you in love with me?" She demands.

"I am. I am completely and utterly in love with you," he admits, slightly confused. She grins before wrapping her arms round his neck and pulling him down, pressing her lips to his in a heated kiss.

He seems shocked but kisses back, pulling her as close as physically possible, taking in everything about her, scared it'll be the last time. They pull apart, panting lightly.

"No more lies," she whispers

"Never again," he grins as she presses her lips to his in a peck. "I don't deserve you," he whispers

"Any boy prepared to go through what you went through to make me happy deserves me Dray,"  she whispers. He shakes his head at this opening his mouth to protest but she's quick to press her lips to his to stop him.

"You wanna get dinner?" She questions

"Of course," he smiles back, arm wrapping around her waist

"And after we can head to your dorm and make up for lost time," she grins and giggles at his smirk

"Oh we will be doing plenty of that," he can't help the grin as he squeezes her tighter to him. How did he ever get so lucky?

**

Masterlist

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #Draco #Draco Malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter

[luffles424]

Unmasked

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp, humor, established relationship

☼ Count: 1.9K

☼ Warnings: 18+, teasing, face sitting, oral (f & m receiving), Seokjin being a chaotic bf

☼ Summary: Seokjin wants to surprise you with his “sexy” Halloween costume. His costume for you might just be even more surprising though.

☼ a/n: The first of a couple of Halloween fics I’ve got and am going to hopefully get out by tomorrow night! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Written for @btsholidaybingo​​​​ to fill the square scary masks

“Are your eyes closed?”

You snort as you adjust so that you’re more comfortable on the bed. “Yes, Jin. They’re closed.”

You hear him shuffling around and you have the urge to peek, but you know he’ll catch you and you’ll never hear the end of it. You had expected to come home and be fucked. That’s certainly where it had been leading after you both had departed your friend’s house, pleasantly buzzed and unable to keep your hands to yourselves. He’d pinned you to the wall in the hallway and kissed you senseless. But the second he had you striped and on the bed, he decided there would be a change of plans. 

Because apparently he had some sexy costume that he wanted your opinion on and now was the time he had deemed it perfect to show you. Maybe you’d blow him in the morning and stop before him cums as payback. He deserves it for this. 

“Are you ready?”

“I’m ready for you to fuck me,” you snark, earning a light smack on your thigh. You grin. 

The bed shifts as he moves closer to you. “You have to be honest if you hate it, okay?”

You wish he could see your eyes so he could see your eyeroll. He knows you’ll always be honest about his questionable fashion choices. It’ll never stop you from being supportive of said terrible choices as well, but he should at least know that tags on your shoes is not as cool as he thinks it is. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll be honest. Can we hurry this up and get to the part where your dick ends up in me?”

He slaps your thigh again. “Stop being such a fun sucker.”

“Would rather suck something else,” you murmur, earning another smack. You giggle. “Okay! Can I open my eyes and see this “great” costume.”

“I don’t appreciate the air quotes.” You feel Seokjin shift slightly again, leaning closer to you. “Okay, open them.”

You blink them open slowly, taking a moment to readjust to the light. And then you promptly scream as you come face to face with a snarling gray face, fangs big and prominent. Seokjin’s squeaky laugh floats out from the grotesque mask he’s decided to wear. You shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge as his laughter continues. Your other hand presses to your chest where you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. You’re going to fucking kill him. You wanted to get laid, not get scared to death.

“What the fuck! Are you trying to give me a heart attack! How is this even supposed to be sexy?”

“Cause I’m naked. So it’s sexy. But it’s Halloween so it also has to be scary.” He says it like it’s obvious and you might just actually murder him. His hands rest on his hips. “So it’s sexy scary.” He states proudly, like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

The longer he giggles the more you want to shut him up. You tug the mask from his head, tossing it to the floor. He gives you a mischievous and delighted grin and then you push at him until he’s lying on the bed. You know exactly how to shut him up. You shift, kneeling above his head as your thighs bracket his face. 

He grins up at you. “Isn’t it a great costume? The sexiest vampire, right?”

You groan. He’s entirely too proud of this. “You need to stop talking.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Then make me.”

“Gladly,” you coo and Seokjin’s hands wrap around your thighs, encouraging and clearly on the same page as you shift closer. 

You shiver as his warm breath puffs against your pussy. Hands tightening, he pulls you down onto his tongue. Finally you’re getting what you wanted. Even if you had to take a small detour to humor Seokjin’s desire to scare the fuck out of you. You groan, planting your hands on his chest so you can roll your hips against his face, eyes squeezing shut and head falling back. You certainly hadn’t planned to sit on his face tonight, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain when he twists his tongue just right against you. Pleasure licks up your spine and you let yourself enjoy his mouth for a few minutes before you’re shifting forward. 

Your hands drop to the bed beside his hips and your gaze drops to his cock, planning to take him in your mouth, get him worked up and desperate to fuck you. But you freeze before you do much more than look at it. You blink a few times, as if that will make the black and red fabric that flows down from just below the head of his cock and covers his entire length. 

Your mouth opens then snaps shut. You honestly shouldn’t be surprised by this point by his antics. You should’ve known there was more to it than just the mask, nothing’s ever that simple with him. A swipe of his tongue across your clit jolts you, bringing you back to the reality of what’s happening right now. You’re sitting on his face, staring at the fucking vampire cape that he tied to his dick. It’s so utterly ridiculous. A giggle slips from your lips and it’s like a dam breaks. You’re quickly full on laughing, lifting yourself from his face to flop on the bed beside him as you laugh. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! You really tied a tiny cape to your dick?”

Seokjin pushes himself up onto his elbows, lips shining as he grins. “What’s a vampire without his cape?” He wiggles his hips, cock and cape swaying with the movement. You wonder if he didn’t want to scare you to death but to make you laugh yourself to death.

You suck in a wheezing breath, trying to speak between your giggles. “I can’t believe you really wore that while trying to fuck me. You’re unbelievable.”

Seokjin turns, grabbing hold of your thigh and pulling it closer so he can nip at the flesh. Your laughter dies off as his teeth graze higher up, inching closer to your cunt. He tugs at your hip, adjusting you so that you’re fully on your side and he hitches your thigh up so his mouth can properly brush against your pussy when he speaks. 

“I find it hard to believe that you never expected something like this and that it also doesn’t turn you on.”

You swallow a moan as his tongue darts out to swipe across your clit. “S-sorry to break this to you, but fabric wrapped around your dick doesn’t do it for me. I actually rather enjoy it completely bare.”

Seokjin hums, giving your clit a slight suck. “Then why don’t you undress it, baby.”

His lips latch onto your clit again, tongue circling the nub and robbing you of any comeback. You moan as his focus shifts entirely to your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs. You stare at his cock, now only half draped in the cape as his position has caused it to slip partially off. 

You reach up, tugging the knot on the cape until the fabric slips completely free from his dick. His movements stutter against you as you wrap a hand around his cock, giving him a few pumps before leaning closer to wrap your lips around the tip. 

Seokjin groans against you, picking up his pace. You feel your orgasm rising quickly, years of being together has Seokjin knowing all the right places to hit to get you off. You slip further down his dick until he hits the back of your throat. It constricts around him slightly and you’re rewarded with another low groan against your pussy. 

You pull off his cock, moaning his name as he slips two fingers into you. He just hums against you, fingers working in tandem with his tongue. It’s enough to push you over the edge. Your grip on his cock tightens involuntarily as he continues his movements, working you slowly through your orgasm. When you whine, he pulls back and you hear him suck his fingers into his mouth to clean them.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you start working your hand over his cock, jerking him slowly. You want to tease him a little, give him a little payback for his dumb mask. His hips stutter when you thumb over the head of his cock and you’re slightly surprised that he’s already so close to coming. You wonder why he decided to stop to put on a mask rather than just getting off if he was this riled up. Though a part of you wonders if the teasing and joking is part of what got him riled up. You’ll be damned if you ever let him wear that vampire mask in the bedroom again. The cape though…

A plan forms in your mind and you check that his eyes are closed before carefully grabbing the little cape. 

You pick up your pace on his cock, drawing more moans from him until he’s gasping that he’s about to cum. Your tongue darts out, swiping across the head to catch the first burst of his release and then you’re quickly replacing your mouth with the cape. You bite your lip to keep from giggling, working him through his orgasm instead. 

He flops onto his back when he’s finished and with a smirk you through the soiled fabric over the edge of the bed. 

“I worked hard on that costume, you know,” he grumbles.

You move so you can cuddle him properly, pressing a kiss to his chest. “No you didn’t. You definitely bought both of those.”

“It was a lot of thought though.”

You hum softly, letting the peace settle around you for a few moments before Seokjin speaks again. 

“Well… If you don’t like my sexy costume. I hope you at least enjoy yours. I did work really hard on that one.”

You groan. You can only imagine how terrible this is going to be given what he was wearing. He turns away from you, digging in the night stand drawer, which has your interest piqued. He had kept it in the drawer? Then he’s turning back, looking suddenly much more nervous. He presents a small velvet box to you and you blink. There’s no way.

He flips the lid open with a shy smile, revealing a sparkling ring tucked within. “Marry me?”

You stare at the ring for a long moment before your gaze is darting up to his face. “Are you serious?”

He chuckles nervously. “I know I joke a lot. But I’m the most serious I’ve ever been. I love you so much. Nothing would make me happier than to get to call you my wife too.”

You look at the ring again, tears welling in your eyes. “You big idiot, yes of course I will!”

A relieved breath leaves him and he quickly pulls the ring free from it’s confines to slip onto your finger. When he’s done, you press a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you so much. Sexy doting husband is a much better costume than your vampire.”

Seokjin presses a kiss to your neck before his lips brush your ear. “I can go get an apron and cook for you in just that.”

You giggle. “Like you didn’t do that already.”

“And I’ll do it forever now too.”

#btsholidaybingo #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic

[cuttingthe-painter]

I just really need my fae bae to comfort me saying he won't leave me for any other creature because he loves me even though I'm a plain boring human... ;-;

I have been in quite the slump recently, my friend, and this prompt (that I know you sent forever ago) finally helped me break out of the creative hole I had found myself in!! I really hope you enjoy the fae bae I have created for you!

***feel free to reblog***

Nyn - Fae Boyfriend (sfw)

male fae x human reader

word count: 1718

warnings: insecurity, slight jealousy, sadness, slight mention of past stalking/attempted assault (very brief, 2 paragraphs), PLEASE let me know if I missed any warnings/incorrectly labeled them.

Silence blankets the apartment with the setting of the sun, the only interruptions the soft turning of pages and your persistent nagging thoughts. The television flashes bright colors in the dimly lit room and a dull ache begins to form behind your unfocused eyes. You blink away the dryness, hoping to bring your mind to the present and away from the memory of Nyn and the woman in the park.

It shouldn’t bother you so much; you should be happy that Nyn finally met another fae like him, another fae made from the silky shadows of night, but it’s been three days and you can’t shake the way the stars in his eyes danced when he met her stare. You’ve looked into his eyes countless times, memorized the universes living in them, and they’ve never come to life like that.

They looked like they had been made for each other, Nyn and the woman in the park. The crawling smoke under their ashen skin turning into raging black flames that radiated off them, rising into the night air and burning together. You’ve only seen Nyn’s shadows engulf him one other time, on the night when you’d first met.

Work ran later than usual that night and you found yourself walking home down seemingly empty streets. A few blocks into your commute, a set of footsteps echoed on the sidewalk behind you, matching your pace for a few moments before quickening. Panic seeped into your body, a restless anxiety taking hold of your limbs and sending you running down the nearest alley. The man behind you mirrored your sprint, his hand reaching out to grab your jacket. He yanked it and you twisted to free yourself, only to find your balance thrown off.

You expected to feel the sharp crack of concrete against your head, but it never came. Inky shadows snaked around you, softening your fall, and exploded into the alley between the man and you. You stared into the impervious smoke, wondering if you had hit your head and if this is what death was like, a dark and empty nothingness. But then it receded into a solemn silhouette and you could see the streetlights again.

Your mind is a broken drum, comparing the scenes over and over and over until you feel like you’re about to break. Something silky wraps around your ankle, skates up your outer calf with a feather-light touch, and pulls you from your mental prison.

“Where were you?” Nyn has his hands resting atop his now closed book, brows furrowed and dark eyes locked on you. You try to choke down your insecurity and force out a small laugh.

 “I was right here watching the show. What are you talking about?” He purses his lips and you know that he knows you’re avoiding the question. His shadow around your leg retreats back to him and he rises from his chair. Fear twists in your gut, fear that maybe he’s angry or that he’ll leave, but instead he grabs the blanket from the back of the couch, lets it fall open behind him, and crawls up the couch, squeezing himself behind you and wrapping you both up.

“I’m here if you want to talk,” he says, pressing soft kisses into your hair. You both lay there, the soft murmurs of a mindless sitcom lulling you to sleep in the comfort of Nyn’s embrace.

Even in sleep you can’t escape her. She’s standing beside him where you should be, ethereal and fae and made for him. You lay crumpled at their feet, feeble and weak and human. When he grabs her hand and pulls her to him, your body jolts awake and Nyn’s arm tightens around you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, his sleepy voice riddled with panic. Your body curls into itself, tears stain your face and Nyn brushes away your hair sticking to the wet tracks. He cradles you to him, whispering soft I love you’s and It’s going to be okay’s in your ear. You try to believe him, try to believe that it’ll be okay because he loves you, but then you see her and the way his eyes danced when he looked at her and you wonder if it really will be okay.

“Please tell me what I can do to help.” He sounds desperate and scared and you want to be okay just to make him sound normal again but you don’t know how. He lifts himself off the couch, letting you roll onto your back, and hovers over you. His eyes soften when he sees your pained face and shadows snake out from him, coiling through the air towards you, reaching out until they’re soothing away your tears.

It’s getting easier to breathe, each inhale feels less and less like swallowing glass. You raise your hand to stop the shadows, to wipe away your own tears, but they stop you. The dark wisps entangle your fingers and squeeze three times in a silent I love you and you know you have to tell him.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see you and that woman standing there,” you whisper, hoping Nyn can hear you over the breaking of your heart. “And then I open them, hoping she’ll be gone, but she’s still there and I can’t stop myself from wondering why you’re still here with me.” 

“I-“ Nyn starts slowly, mulling over his words carefully. “I’m afraid I don’t understand… Why wouldn’t I be here with you? This is our home.” Tears fill your eyes again and you roll your head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

“Because when you looked at her, your shadows came to life and the stars in your eyes danced and that’s never happened when you’ve looked at me. She’s like you and I’m…I’m just..me.” A gentle hand caresses your cheek, slowly turning you back to face Nyn. A look of understanding settles across his face and he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“Those things, they don’t happen because when I look at you, I feel safe,” he whispers against your skin. His warm breath fans down across your face, and your eyes blink away the dryness. Safe. He feels safe. You let the words sink in, hoping that safe isn’t just a proxy for bored.

“I thought maybe it’s because I’m, y’know, human,” you whisper back, willing away the tremor in your voice. Nyn pulls away, staring down at you with a look so soft and so foreign, and you swallow helplessly at the lump straining your throat.

“You say human like it’s an insult.” Seriousness laces his words and you wish you could rewind time and stop yourself from ever mentioning it.

"Isn’t it, though? I mean, compared to you and her?”

“Absolutely not. You being human keeps me sane, makes me want to do better and be better. That’s why when I look at you my stars are still and my shadows contained. Our shadows, they can be dangerous, can turn us dangerous. If we live in them for too long, we become them and lose our sense of humanity.”

Nyn positions himself back around you on the couch as he speaks, wrapping one arm around your waist and tucking the other under your head. His words sooth the lump in your throat, coaxing it to relent enough to let you breathe normally.

“That’s what happened to her,” he continues, soothing circles into your hip with his thumb. “And when she saw us together, she thought that’s what had happened to me. She was dangerous; the things shadow fae will do when consumed by their shadows are… not pleasant. When I heard what she wanted to do, what she thought I wanted to, I did what I had to do to protect you.”

To protect you. Your heart feels like it's going to beat right out of your chest. It clicks then why the only other time you’ve seen him erupt like that was back in the alley, when you were being followed. But how did he know she had ill-intentions? You try to remember when the woman was talking, if she had said anything other than ‘hey there’ and ‘nice to meet you’.

“How did you know she was dangerous? I never heard her say anything weird,” you say, still trying to recall the night more clearly.

“Her eyes,” he says. He’s back there at the park, you can see it in the way his eyes go glassy and his shadows swell out from him. He blinks away the memory and keeps going. “We talk through the lights in them, that’s why they ‘dance'." You don’t really understand it, but you can at least understand enough to get it. You let out a quiet ‘oh’ and wait for him to continue but he doesn’t.

The room quiets again and you focus on Nyn’s slowing breaths, attempting to match yours to his, hoping to leech some of his calm. He nuzzles his face into your hair and hums in content and you feel the pent-up anxiety in your body dissipate. Tears flood your eyes at the sudden rush of love coursing through you and you can’t help the sudden urge to turn and crowd into Nyn’s space, smothering him with kiss after kiss.

He laughs into the kisses, threading his hands into your hair, holding you still and deepening the kisses. You feel his shadows dancing around you, tickling across your skin, and you feel ridiculous for ever doubting how much he loves you. You pull away for a breath and he chases the movement, gently nipping at your lip with his pointed teeth.

“Nyn,” you half-mumble half-moan. He makes a muffled sound in response but pulls back to listen. You smile up to him and say “thanks for protecting me” and he smiles back at you like you’re his entire world, then kisses you again, slow and purposefully and with no intention to stop.

Later, after the kisses have finished and you’re pressed against Nyn under the sheets of your bed, on the verge of sleep, you hear Nyn whisper “thank you for letting me love you” and then you’re gone, dreaming of dances with the shadows in the stars.

#fae boyfriend #fae x reader #fae boyfriend x reader #exophilia #monster lover #monster x reader #prompt request #my writing #fae x human #male fae x human reader

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part three

go check out watch your six on my profile! *in the process of making a m.list*

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (its a slow burn babes)

warnings: trigger warning of sedation? it’s not a there for long though, also language and some creepy activity by gomez, i think that’s it, lmk if i missed something :)

a/n: heeeyy babes… ik i promised this a way long time ago, but it’s here now! i got way behind with my classwork and the freaking texas freeze week didn’t help at allll, it’s fine, i’m fine, it’s on fire but it’s fine. 

p.s.: our darling buck makes come in next upload :) stick with me, i promise i’m getting there. 

series m.list

ray’s m.list

**************************

“Alright ladies, listen up.” A tall woman with a short brunette bob commanded. “Our target is one Louis Richardson.” A picture flashed on a screen behind the tall woman. “Richardson is a prominent leader in the Svengali. He’s one of the higher ups so we cannot mess this up, girls.” There was a click and then another picture floated onto the screen.

“He’s going to be attending a gala next week. Our intel leads us to believe that the Svengali is going to conduct a trade of information from Richardson to a carrier.” She moved from one side of the room to the other, catching all of our eyes. I glanced around the room, searching for something familiar.

“Hey, you alright?” The girl to my left whispered to me. “Libra, stop drifting.” My head snapped to the girl. Gemini? Isn’t she dead? Wait, where am I?

“Gemini! Libra! Have something you would like to share with the group?” The tall women challenged, we looked at each other and shook our heads, remaining quiet. “Alright, so we’re going to be sending quite a few of you in on this one. Leo, Virgo, and Scorpio you’re going to be on the gala floor. Mingling with guests and keeping the public under control. We don’t want this breaking out into a whole scandal, do we?” The heads of the women in front of me bobbed back and forth as a response of no. The tall woman proceeded to give out tasks.

“Libra, Gemini, Cancer, Taurus and Aries. You are Plan B. If this should go south, we have intelligence that gives us an idea on where one of the Svengali safe houses is located. The five of you will be laying in wait. Your mission, should it be needed, is strictly reconnaissance. You are under no circumstances to engage the target in anyway, do you understand?” We nodded and then the room was silent. The tall woman took a deep breath, leaned forward against one of the desks at the front.

“This is a very sensitive mission that they are trusting us to handle. We will do so much better than anyone else could.” She stood to her full height, “You all have your assignments, this is all going down next week. Be ready, ladies.” She bobbed her head and sent us on our way. Picking up the folder in front of me, I turned to Gemini.

“Can you believe that they gave us this assignment, Gem?” My mouth moved, but I had no control over it. What the hell is happening? Gemini laughed at me and clutched her own folder to her chest.

“Will you chill out, Libra? It’s just recon. It’s really not that big of a deal.” I stopped and gawked at her then heaved out a cackle. She walked ahead of me, shaking her head at my reaction.

“Not that big of a deal for you maybe.” I puffed out my chest, “It’s my first mission, remember?” My chest deflated and anxiety began to set in. “Oh my god, it’s my first mission.” Gemini turned to look at me with raised brows.

“Yeah, so?” She breathed a laugh, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Libby.” She grabbed my shoulders and pulled me along to our shared quarters. “Just remember to stay out of your head and get it done. You’ll be fine.” She giggled as she released her hold on me and plopped onto her bed. “Everything’s going to be a-okay, Libby.” I smiled at the nickname.

“You’re right, Gem. Let’s crush this mission.” I walked over to her bed and swatted her side, “Scoot over, you cow!” I grunted as I shoved her. She gasped, then after relenting she laughed as I landed face first into the mattress. We both melted into puddles of laughter and I felt a slow smile spread across my face.

“She’s smiling. Why is she doing that?” A rougher voice left Gemini’s mouth. I giggled and looked over at her.

“What did you say?”

“Gomez, if she’s smiling that means she’s happy.” Gemini’s mouth moved, but yet again it wasn’t her voice. I know that voice, where do I know that voice from? I lurched from my spot on the bed and glared at Gemini.

“What did you shove me off the bed for?” I questioned Gemini incredulously. Another jolt of energy bounced me on the ground. What is happening? My head hit the side of something hard, something that allowed enough spring that my head rebounded back into it again. I released a groan of pain and went to clutch the area. When I tried to raise one arm, but they were clasped together behind my back. Opening my eyes, blurry images roamed in front of me.

“Oh, she’s waking up.”

“Yes, that is right on time.”

“Waking up? We haven’t gotten to the rendezvous point yet.”

“Well with the dosage I administered, she should be coming out of it right about now.”

“Then up the dosage, Doc. I’m not about to deal with another whiner for the rest of this trip.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You what?” There was a run of indistinct murmurs exchanged between the two voices. My vision began to clear up. I cleared my throat, wincing at the pain when I coughed. Blinking rapidly, I tried to get my bearings. I was sat in the middle of the Doctor and Gomez, shoulders making contact with the both of them. My eyes roaming still, I landed on Gomez’s now bandaged cheek. I smirked and then huffed a laugh.

He glared at me, “You laughing at something, little girl?” I leaned away from him.

“Honestly, laughing at the fact that I was able to hurt you.” Speaking through the gag in my mouth. The speech was so muffled but the effect was there. Gomez didn’t break eye contact with me as he leaned in.

“Better watch what you say around me.” He threatened, “Someone might think you aren’t just a scared puppy.” I glared at the man, nostrils flaring in anger. I should head-butt him. Contemplating my next move, my eyes flicked across his face. He intimidated me, but I couldn’t let him know that.

“Gomez, what the hell are you doing?” Suits asked from the front passenger seat. Gomez’s eyeline never left mine as he answered.

“Just letting the little girl know her place.” Mass scoffed from the driver’s seat and my gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Waiting with bated breath as to what he was going to say. Nothing, he said nothing. Although Mass didn’t really need to say anything. He looked at Gomez with disgust and then rolled his eyes.

“You got a problem, big guy?” Gomez pushed. Suits grumbled, turning to look at Gomez.

“Just shut up, Gomez. You can use your immature intimidation tactics there. Just not in the car. You’re annoying the rest of us.” I had to stifle a laugh, which isn’t hard when you’re gagged. “Give the girl another dose, Doc.”

“Already on it.” Not having been paying attention to the doctor was a mistake. In the time that I was dealing with Gomez, the Doc began assembling and filling another syringe. The prick in my neck alerted me that it was too late. I slumped in my seat, lids drooping again. “It’ll be quicker this time, but the effect will last for a longer time.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or to Suits. It didn’t matter at that point, I was gone.

Cold, brisk air glazed over my skin, snapping me to attention. The quick jerking motion caused an ache in my stiff, restrained muscles. I groaned which slowly morphed into a scream. “Help! Someone help me!” I screamed until my throat sore again. Raspy shouts left my vocal chords, but that didn’t stop me. Wobbling around in the chair in an attempt to loosen the binds around my body. “Let me out of here! You have no right to shut me in here!” I didn't sound like myself, my voice was so gravelly. I jumped away from the right side of the room when a rush of air burst into the room.

Suits walked in and tossed a manila folder onto the stainless countertop. He pulled the chair out from the other side of the table and sat with a sigh. As he relaxed back into the chair, he stared at my face before flipping open the folder. Thumbing through the pages, he glanced up at me every now and again. What the hell is he doing? What’s in that folder?

“Did you bring me here to kill me?” I inquired cautiously. There was a pause as my question hung in the air and then a short snort of a laugh.

“Now, why would I want that?” My nostrils flared and my pulse quickened. Suits smirked at me and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table in front of him. He glanced back down to the open folder before him. “How many missions did you participate in?” My heart stopped, what the hell is he talking about? Does he know about my dreams?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice wavered, it wasn’t a lie necessarily.

“I think you do and I don’t take too kindly to people who lie to me.”

“Well then we don’t have a problem because I’m not lying.” I wasn’t really, at least I don’t think it was. Suits chuckled, it was humorless, almost sarcastic.

“I’ll ask you one more time. How many missions did they send you on?” There was anger layering his words.

“I already told you,” I said exasperated. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Now let me go.” Suits snickered.

“Alright, fine then.” Suits left the room. The LED lights illuminating the room cut out as soon as the door closed. I shivered in anticipation, trying to figure out what was happening. The temperature seemed to drop as my anxiety increased. My head fell forwards to rest my chin against my chest, deep breaths causing my whole body to rise and fall in time. I don’t know how long they left me there. Time seemed to crawl, mocking me as it slunked by on its wheel. I desperately wanted to rack my fingers through my hair and pull until this whole situation made sense. My brain felt fried and I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Lifting my head I became aware of the sore crick at the base of it. I sighed heavily, how am I  going to get out of this one? As far back as I can remember, I haven’t done anything to anyone. No instances came to mind that would give someone, much less the government, to come kidnap me and chain me to a chair.

The door swung open and banged against the white wall. A surly, imposing man stared at me with an intimidating expression on his face. The lower half of his face was covered in a layer of stubble, thick, sculpted eyebrows gave way to deep honey eyes. Who the hell is this guy? He stalked around the table and the chair that I was confined to. My head jerked to follow his movements, I didn’t catch a good vibe from this one. Have I gotten a good vibe from anyone recently, though? I mean Suits wasn’t terrible, but he did kidnap me. I was rushed back to reality by the brush of the man’s hand through my hair, sweeping it off my shoulder. Without moving, I glared at the man through my lashes.

“What the hell do you think that you’re doing?”

“I’m here to ask you a couple questions.” He announced, his voice filling the room. My shoulders drooped, this is going to be a long day.

*********************

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #watch your six #bucky x you #eventual bucky x reader #female reader insert #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n

[booksforevermore13]

What she wants (is not what she truly needs)

Summary: After a potion accident, Ginny's left suffering its effects. Harry's there to help her through it, but he soon realizes that while thinking her wants were his to fulfill, he'd forgotten her needs.

Read it on Fanfiction if you prefer!

...

The pale, gibbous moon was striking against the dusky blue sky. It had untimely risen and though — as Harry looked up — it looked faded, clouded by the brilliance of the blue, it sat against the sky as if seated in a throne amongst the clouds.

Any other day and he'd not have cared. As long as the moon stayed in its place in the sky and didn't come hurtling down to the ground, he was perfectly fine with ignoring it.

No, what was important was the fact thatGinny was late.

Again.

It didn't help his case that he had been waiting for her for over an hour now.

Harry remembered the first time Ginny had been late. He'd done what he did best and that was rushing into the Harpies' stadium, convinced his girlfriend was in the clutches of some crazed genocidal maniac who'd use her as bait to lure him in. He'd quite nearly hexed the guards there when they'd pointed out the no outsiders warning taped on the door.

As if he didn't know that. He'd put up the sign himself.

Threatening to hex them had worked, though, and they'd let him in soon after that — it at least explained the nasty looks they sent his way every time he came to pick Gin up. Harry remembered rushing in that day and bombardingthe door leading to the grounds into fine splinters. It was only after he'd seen Ginny on her Firebolt Primus, hovering a few metres off the ground and staring at him with what was shock and concern, had he calmed down. Of course, she had been a vital factor in that, proceeding to tick him off after in true Molly Weasley fashion.

He'd not regretted it though.

As long as she was safe.

He'd not broken in again nevertheless — though he'd come very close once or twice — partly because he'd figured the guards were traumatised enough and partly because he was afraid of what Ginny'd do to him if it happened again.

So with no other viable option possible, he'd retreated so his back was pressed against the wall, his hands crossed over his chest. Every other second, he glanced at the Muggle watch Hermione had gifted to him on his birthday and then to the glass door to the stadium, hoping every time he looked, he'd see those beautiful brown eyes sparkling as they'd come out the door.

The next time he looked up though, instead of Ginny coming out with that dazzling smile of hers, he recognized one of her teammates.

Angila Macqueen.

He knew her as the reserve beater on the Harpies and Harry recognized her solely because he'd had Ginny point her out on multiple occasions, saying she deserved to be in the team but had been held back due to legalities. He'd talked to her before, shy girl she was, and they'd mostly just stood around until she'd admitted he was daunting.

He remembered Ginny laughing after she'd said that, and him being horrified.

"Angila, hey!" he called now as he stood up to his full height, not failing to take note of how worn the girl looked and how she didn't have her gear with her like Ginny normally did after practice. "Gin, is she done?"

"You need to come in, Harry," she said, skirting around his question but he could see the distinct worry in her eyes. Harry frowned at her, before taking off towards the door.

He didn't need her to say anything more; something had gone wrong.

He knew it.

"Where is she?" he yelled over his shoulder as Angie sped to catch up with him.

"Changing room," she yelled back. "Last door to the right."

And he sped, his mind clouded with fear as he ran where Angie had pointed.

Bludgers.

He'd heard about people getting hit with them and losing their memory. Completely blank about the life they'd lived.

But surely Angie would have said something if something like that had happened. Wouldn't she?

Or maybe she hadn't because she had wanted to break it to him slowly. People believed in rubbish like that, as if breaking it slowly or quickly would do anything to lessen the gravity of the situation.

Gwenog Jones was leaning against the door to the changing room and he came to a stop as he saw her. "Where is she?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Potion accident," Gwenog replied curtly. "Ginny's fine, though," she said as she saw the look on his face. "You," she sighed, "you should just—"

She stepped aside. "Go talk to her yourself."

He didn't have to be told twice. Harry pushed open the door, eyes immediately on a red blanket with the Harpies' logo emblazoned on it, Ginny's red hair peeking out from under it. Her eyes were closed and he could see the blanket rising at a steady pace.

She was breathing. Sleeping, but it did nothing to calm his frenzied brain.

Coma. He'd heard it happen to Quidditch players. Bludger in the head, person gone for the next two years.

No.

"Ginny?" Harry called, and he could sense the desperation in his voice as he crouched down beside her. "Gin, wake up," he begged, "wake up."

His voice cracked, and he didn't know if it was the panic or the anger playing as he gently brushed her hair back. "Gin," he tried again. "Ginevra."

"Don't call me that," she mumbled, and Harry nearly cried in relief upon hearing her voice. "Can't let a woman sleep in peace, can you?"

Her hand reached out from under her blanket and caught his, bringing him closer to her. He let her, for there was nothing else he'd have liked more.

"Potion gone wrong, if you were wondering," she explained softly. "We needed an extra edge to the game with Puddlemere this week, and Clarita suggested a limb-heightening potion. I was stupid enough to try it first, so here I am."

"What potion?" Harry frowned, before realising it was not the question he should have been asking. "Wait, what's it going to do now? Surely there's an antidote to this —"

"Nope," Ginny said, pursing her lips and Harry's heart skipped a beat as he saw her eyelids fluttering shut.

"Gin, don't sleep! Ginny!"

"Harry, stop panicking, I'm not going into a coma," Ginny chuckled, "the potion was supposed to increase my stamina. We must have done something wrong because it's doing the exact opposite. There's no other option but to wait for it to neutralize."

"Huh?"

"It's just going to make me sleepy," she explained.

He waited a second. "You're saying it's basically harmless then," he stated slowly, as if he was having trouble believing it himself.

"Basically. But I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine," Harry repeated again and then sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin, I thought something bad had happened, bloody nearly gave me a scare."

"This is bad, too, you know," Ginny said. "I'm sitting out the next match. And the one after that too if this doesn't get better by then."

He agreed with that, but couldn't help but grin. This was good, of course, not entirely, but he'd take this any day over anything he'd thought about.

"You know, I'd tell you to stop smiling," Ginny started, "but I know it'll make no difference."

"Rightly said, Miss Weasley," and he bent forward and picked her up, still grinning. Ginny yelped and he laughed as she brought her hands around his neck.

He looked at her and in a moment of impulse, leaned forward and kissed her, slightly dipping her down and Ginny shrieked again, laughing as Harry brought her back.

"What, you don't trust me?"

"A bit too much, in fact, Mr. Potter."

...

"What were you thinking?"

"You need it, Gin," Harry said, matter-of-factly. "I asked Hermione and she said this was the best option."

"Hermione told you to buy an entire shop's worth of energy bars?"

"No," he said, "but I figured it was for the best." He was being patient, unnaturally so, but this was the third time Ginny had yelled at him that day, and he was trying to be calm, to look at it from her eyes, but it was becoming increasingly hard to do so. But he could see that that was what she wanted of him, so he did it.

As long as she was okay.

He could see how frustrated she'd been for the past four days, dealing with her lack of energy, and he'd tried making it better for her but it hadn't worked, and now he was running out of options. "You'll need it," he said after Ginny didn't answer. "They're good for you."

"Oh, I know," she snarled, "hand me the bill, Harry."

"Ginny —"

"Give me the damn bill!"

Harry sighed and relented, handing over the scrap bit of paper he'd stuffed in his pocket. He watched as her eyes skimmed over the page and winced, damn well knowing what was to come. Sure he'd gone over a bit, maybe more than a bit, but it was for the greater good.

No, she'd yell if he told her that.

Maybe for her good.

No, that wouldn't do either.

"Two hundred pounds?" Ginny started quietly, and Harry, for a brief second, wished she'd yell instead of using that tone. "You spent two hundred pounds on this?"

"To be fair, there are a lot of flavours here," he defended and cringed.

Wrong answer.

"Flavours?"

"Don't yell, please," Harry sighed. "Yell at me later, Gin, but not now, it'll drain you out."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to ask for your permission now, huh?" she retorted and then paused for a second, whatever she wanted to say next, lost to the world. He watched her turn towards the stairs and shake her head once, twice.

"Gin?"

"You're right," she said finally, and he could sense a defined resignation in her voice. "I'm going up."

She was exhausted, he realized. More than she was letting on. She had been since the potion accident and the yelling had not helped.

For the past four days, all he had seen was her driving herself to exhaustion and he'd said nothing. Said nothing as he watched her struggle to a point where she could barely keep herself awake. He'd said nothing because he knew that was what she needed. He couldn't put it in words, but he'd kept his distance, helping when required.

Because that was what Ginny needed.

So he said nothing as she made her way up the stairs, their argument forgotten as he watched her climb the blocks, one at a time.

"Gin?"

She answered after a second and when she did so, she sounded out of breath."Yeah?"

"Can I help you?"

"No."

And Harry sighed, wondering if that was what she truly needed.

...

"Gin?" Harry called, knocking on the door thrice in succession before sighing. "Gin, can I come in?"

He'd never had to ask before, but Ginny'd never locked him out like this. Ever. Sometimes, she'd lock the door to their room out of habit but Harry understood that, seeing how she had lived with six boys before and needed her own privacy. But with him, she'd never hid.

Until now.

"I'm coming in," he stated when he got no response, taking out his wand to produce a quick unlocking spell.

"No, don't!"

He stepped back as he heard her voice, out of habit, searching for signs showing she might be hurt. He found none.

"Are you okay in there Gin?"

"I'm fine."

"Right," he replied, finding nothing else to say back. "Ginny?" he asked after a second. "Can I come in?"

"Please don't," he heard her say and he looked at the door, hoping he could see her through it. "Just," she sighed, "please just leave me alone, Harry."

No, he wanted to say. I won't. He wanted to go in and he wanted to hold her while she fell asleep, hoping that that would fade her problems away.

But he settled on saying, "okay," because that was what she wanted and that was what she needed, so he'd do that for her.

"I love you," he said as he rested his forehead against the door. He didn't know what else to say.

The past week had been rough, for her, and for him, but even through all of it, he needed her to know how much he loved her. Part of him thought she wouldn't say it back, the other part wishing she would.

"I love you too," she said finally and he nodded, very well knowing she couldn't see him. But nonetheless, he wanted her to know. And even though she couldn't see him, he knew she'd know. She always did.

So he turned to leave, because that was what she needed from him and he'd do whatever he could, if that meant she was okay.

He didn't make any noise as he turned towards the stairs, his footsteps silent against the floor.

"Harry?" he heard her call and immediately turned towards the door, wand at the ready to perform the slightest spell required.

"Yeah?"

"Tell Gwenog I'm out for the week."

...

The night was a special kind of blackness he noticed, the kind that wanted only to hold the stars and help them shine all the brighter.

He tried but Harry couldn't appreciate its beauty. With Ginny to point it out, it had come easily, looking for the tiny points of light hidden in the murky darkness. The one who could spot the most stars won.

She always did.

Perhaps, that is why, as he stepped into the training grounds, he wasn't bothered by the lack of stars in the sky.

She wasn't there with him this time.

He didn't know why he was there. Why he had come all the way to the Harpies' training grounds when he could have spent it with Ginny at home. He'd figured it was the fear playing, the dread he'd feel if she locked him out again. If he had to watch her push herself to exhaustion one more time. Or perhaps, it was simply because he wanted to understand the allure that had brought her here in the first place.

He couldn't get it.

He didn't understand.

Maybe she did, but he couldn't.

"Is she okay?" He heard a voice behind him, and he knew it was Gwenog. She was the only one here after hours, the only one crazy enough to do so, Ginny had said. Gwenog lived and breathed Quidditch, she'd told him. That, while it was a much loved career for her, it was an entire life for Gwenog.

For a second, he contemplated saying no, for it was the truth. Ginny wasn't okay and Harry didn't know what to do.

But he couldn't say that, and he took his time turning around, smiling wearily at the sight of the Harpies' captain. "I don't know," he decided at last, and Gwenog nodded as if she'd expected him to say that.

"She can't play in this week's match," he said plainly, holding back any expression that might give him away.

"She said that?"

"Yeah."

"No, you mean she told you she couldn't play or are you —"

"No, she told me to tell you."

Gwenog frowned, her eyes disbelieving and Harry glared at her.

"You can't possibly expect her to play in this state," he said angrily. "She can barely walk, goddamn it!"

"I didn't mean that," Gwenog frowned. "Ginny's….just never one for admitting things like this. I expected you to knock some sense into her. Not-not like this."

And that was true. He'd seen her play Quidditch with a fractured leg and a bludger to her ribs, goddamn it, and she'd done so brilliantly.

Gwenog was right. This was not the Ginny he knew. Not the Ginny he loved.

Had things become so bad that Gwenog had needed to step in to make him realize that things were not as it seemed? That Ginny was simply not okay? That maybe, just maybe, her struggling day in and out was her way of dealing with this?

"I have to go," he announced and Gwenog nodded, though her lips were still set in a frown.

But Harry knew she understood.

…

This time he didn't knock.

This time he knew well enough.

He found her on her bed as he walked in, curled up under her blanket. She wasn't sleeping, for the rise and fall of her figure was erratic. Not fast, but it wasn't constant either, like it did while she was sleeping.

"Harry?" Ginny turned and Harry could see her trying to hold her tears in. He didn't know how long she had been doing this, how long she'd been struggling with what he couldn't help with.

"I thought you might need me here," he said and he offered a shrug as Ginny looked at him.

"I don't need anything now, Harry."

"We don't always have to need each other, do we?" he asked as he laid down beside her on the bed, gently pulling her close to him. Ginny sighed, pausing before she gave in and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I suppose not," she said and he could hear her voice wavering ever so slightly.

The problem, he realised, was that the feeling of need was unknown to them both. Harry knew not to need from a very young age, but Ginny... Ginny knew how fast need could be turned into a trap. The need to be independent had been taught to her in the hardest way possible. Without it, he realized, she felt helpless. By thinking her wants were his to fulfill, he'd forgotten her needs.

For he realized, want and need were two very different things.

He needed Ginny, needed her more than he could ever comprehend.

And he knew Ginny felt the same.

...

#hinny fanfiction #harry and ginny #post-war fic #holyhead harpies #harry potter #ginny weasley #potion accident #romance #hurt/comfort #angst #written for the quidditch league fan fiction competition #hinny fluff #gwenog jones #original character

[hotdamnhunnam]

Dream Baby Dream

A/N: So Charlie’s latest movie, Jungleland, is an ABSOLUTE MUST-SEE!! It’s so fucking lovely 🥺😭🥰  Whether you’ve seen it or not, I hope you’ll enjoy this little one shot, based on the below request that I got! It’s all kinds of angsty and smutty and fluffy. (Title is a reference to the Springsteen song played at the end of the movie!) **This fic is SPOILER-FREE**

Pairing: Stanley Kaminski x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, reader gets pregnant, gifs of Charlie in his underpants 😋 Request: This lovely request (p.2) for pregnancy/smut with Charlie’s character from Jungleland!

Word Count: ~3.1k

Important Note: The first line of this fic is a line Stanley says in the movie (scene shown in the gif above and in this gifset) – yes, loves, an actual quote. So if you’ve not yet seen this film but are a fan of Charlie Hunnam, I promise you this scene is reason enough, to watch if only just to hear those words from him... 🤤

***************

“I like the way they make my dick look.”

... Is he serious? Yes, definitely is. One drink was all it took, for you to know. He walks and talks like someone straight out of an old forgotten book or an obscure off-Broadway show. As if his whole life is imagined, yet for him the fiction feels so fucking real that it’s the only thing he’ll ever understand.

“I like the way they make my dick look”? What the fuck? You’d just paid him a half-joking compliment on his ridiculous sweatpants. But this is a man who takes jokes for the truths they expose. Mama always told you to avoid men like this—cons and crooks—men who crush their own hearts in their fists, steal their strength from the shadows, to run from their weakness. She knows best, and knows that you can’t. Knows that you turn to dust in their hands. But she’s not here to witness.

No, nobody is.

You take another shot, tossing away what little self-restraint you’ve got. “Dare you to tell me just how many times you’ve used that line.”

The fucker flashes you a smile. Cheeky smirk, the only kind that suits his style. Cheap as dirt. Just like his stupid ugly shirt. “Hey, if I had a dime...”

Rolling your eyes, you suck the sour from a slice of lime. Can’t seem to chase away your thirst. “How many times did that shit work?”

“Well, let’s just say you wouldn’t be the first...” he whispers, leaning close to take the lime in his own fingers, squeezing it without reason till every little pulp ruptures and bursts. “Wanna fuck you so hard it hurts.”

***************

Is it the best sex that you’ve had? Hell fucking no—not even close. It’s pretty bad. Probably the worst.

It’s almost gross. Feels like you’re stuck in a low-budget porno. Just a mess of theatrical thrusts. Heated groans, grating deep in his throat. Grabby hands. Somehow you know that he could fuck you so much better, though, if only he stopped trying to put on some kind of show. You doubt he even knows he can.

“Ugh, just—” you grit your teeth against each thrust. “What are you even doing, Stan...”

He groans out loud again. “Screwing you like a fucking man.”

That tasteless statement almost makes you want to laugh, but you bite back the urge. “No, that’s not how it works,” you mutter as his hips spastically jerk, massive dick splitting you in half. “You can’t—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he rasps, ravaging your ass with a rough series of slaps. Pulling your hair, making you arch your back, wrapping one hand around your neck until you choke. The sex is so damn close to being epic if this man would just stop acting like a joke. Like, really close, which honestly doesn’t seem fair. “You’re not supposed to talk when you’re taking my cock. Supposed to be too drunk to care.”

Oh God—he’s even dumber than you thought. He should’ve counted that you’d only had a couple shots. “Yeah, well, I’m not.”

“As fucking if,” he huffs, taking the hint that you’ve had quite enough. Reluctantly rolls off. Finally stops fucking you over. And that’s when you realize you miss it, although it feels strange to admit. He turns aside, tucking himself in tight under the covers like some kind of scorned lover. Spurned and burned so many times it makes him sick. “That’s bullshit and we both know it. Sober, a girl like you wouldn’t have touched me with a ten-foot stick.”

That gives you pause and breaks your heart a little bit. How is this man already getting at your heart, damn it? Mama would say he’s creeping in there with his crooked claws and all that shit. You can’t let yourself fall for his theatrics. Is that even what this is? Somehow, you sense the weight of more than just his body on the mattress; your heart feels heavy now, but not nearly as heavy as his.

“A girl like me? Seriously, what does that even mean?” you ask, reaching to run your hand across the faded scars and bruises on his back. Noticing how he flinches as if your soft touch is a savage attack. No doubt he wishes that you hadn’t seen. No wonder somebody so damaged really thought you wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot stick. “Stanley, you are honest to God hot. And plus you’ve got an almost-ten-inch dick.”

He reacts with a snort, and a shake of his head. Scooting out of the bed, shrugging into his hideous shirt. All the scars on his back and his heart safely hidden inside it. “Doesn’t matter if it’s big. Apparently I can’t use it for shit.”

Without bothering to put pants back on, he settles on the couch across the room. You move to follow him, unable to resist when he looks so cute sitting there. Raking your fingers through his ruffled golden hair. “That’s not a problem we can’t fix—come back to bed with that big dick. You just have to get out of your head. Just a bit.”

That’s a notion he’s quick to dismiss, though you notice he’s no longer flinching away from your touch—which means something, you’d bet. It must. Nevertheless, Stanley snickers at what you said, struggling to keep his facade firmly set. “Out of my head? Bitch, I live in it.”

You don’t doubt it. Just want him to try stepping out of it. “Just for a minute.”

Lucid blue eyes look up at you now like you’re seeking to push him past some lifelong limit.

“Damn, what’s it like in there...?” you wonder aloud as you comb through his hair. He’s a poem, a portrait of someone who doesn’t believe he’s a man. Soul has never known any true home. Heart has been locked away for so long that he thought it could never be freed. Head full of dreams, broken and bursting at the seams. His silence fucking screams. “What do you really want, Stan? Really need?”

And you can tell he’s scared, to dare believe you really care. “...Nobody ever asked.”

There’s a whole world behind his words. Woefully true. Yet a whole other world now opens up before the two of you, with yours. “Well, then I’m glad to be the first.”

Of course you asked. Of fucking course. You barely even know him now, but can already tell somehow... you want to love this man so hard it hurts. Truly glad that you were the first. Already want to be the last.

***************

Fucking months have gone by in the blink of an eye. And already you love him so much you could die. 

He’s never fucked someone who ever gave a shit about him, so he gets a rush from knowing that you cannot live without him. And the feeling goes both ways, needless to say. He’s always looking at you like his first glimpse of the sacred light of day. And always seems afraid you’ll run away, no matter how wholeheartedly you reassure him that you’re here to stay. That he should never doubt it. 

Still he’s just crippled with this unshakeable fear of fucking up and everything falling to shit, just as it always did. Of losing love now that he’s finally fucking found it. Stanley’s past is a ripple effect of the failures and losses that constantly kept him desperate and dishonest, and it’s fucking haunted. Can’t help but dread the day it’ll rear its monstrous head and make him pay for ever dreaming he could have the kind of life he’s always wanted.

The most that you can do is hold him close and fuck the pain away, and love him more than words can say. His dreams are beautiful, you tell him. They deserve to see the light of day. With you he never has to act like he’s some character straight off the page; he doesn’t have to be afraid to feel. To fear that all the demons in his soul are real, and full of rage, and fierce enough to kill him. ‘Cause now you’re finally here to hold him and to heal him.

All of his dreams once revolved around his intense bond with his brother. For so long, his heart never had room for another. He tells you often about Walter. The fighter. ‘Lion’ as it were. The whole life that they lived for no one but each other, till one day the champion boxer abandoned his gloves to vow love at the altar.

And Stanley is happy, that Lion has found a new family. A new life as boundless and bright as the sky. Such love as an overbearing older brother could never provide. Though Stan knows that the door’s always open for him, to be part of that family and part of that life... he won’t take Lion up on the invite. Tells himself that the home that his brother has built is too precious for someone so poisoned to set foot inside.

You fuck the poison and the pain out of his veins a little bit more every night. But you know it’s a big fight; you won’t try to push it or rush it. Just guide him and stay beside him as the shadow slowly turns to light.

So what’s left to dream now? Somehow your lover tells you his deepest secrets and desires without ever breathing a damn word aloud. Like the fire’s so fragile a whisper could blow it right out.

Tells you and shows you through passionate, powerful kisses, devouring you with the heat of his mouth. Through the touch of his tough calloused hands on your skin, softly treasuring every last inch, devoting his whole broken heart to the moment in such breathless silence... then driving inside you with vigor and violence, the lion inside him awoken and roaring out loud. Slow and gentle again, at the end. Once you’re both well and truly fucked out. The soft look on his face and his tender embrace expressing just how grateful he is that you taught him to fuck, and to love, without playing pretend.

Is it the best sex of your life? Hell fucking yes. Without a doubt. Every damn day, every damn night. Far and away the fucking best. The kind of sex starry-eyed poets strive and fail to write about. 

Stanley Kaminski is a living, breathing, tragic, magic little poem. But he is also very real, thanks to the love that you’ve allowed his heart to feel. Beating so beautifully now that it’s finally healed. And he’s become your fucking home.

***************

“Babe, you up?”

You weren’t until he spoke. The sun is only barely just; as he so often does, Stan beat the day before it broke. But you don’t mind being awoken by the man you’ll always love. More so than ever now because... you have some news to share today, bound to blow him the fuck away. In the best way, you hope. And trust.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, shifting in bed, lifting your head to see him seated by the window far across the room. Gaze lingering upon his gorgeous features gilded by the glow of dawn. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing at all, for once, he wordlessly responds. Smiles at you before he glances back outside, watching the sun begin to rise, as if its light promises everything he wants.

“Today’s gonna be good, baby,” he states, blue gaze so wild and bright he looks a little crazy. “I mean, I can see it. I can see our future when I close my eyes.”

It’s almost like he knows what’s coming, in the next moment. Maybe he does? Your souls are intertwined so close you wouldn’t really be surprised. “Well, looks to me like they’re wide open. Why you even gotta close ‘em?” you reply, stretching your arms out with a peaceful sigh. All set to break the news you would’ve shared with him last night, if only he hadn’t come home and fucked you so epically hard that you just went out like a light. “Stanley, I...”

“Shouldn’t have woken you up, actually,” he interrupts, somewhat unnaturally. Crosses the room toward the bed, to hold your head up, kiss you slow and deep. Then turns to leave. “Love you—sorry. Go back to sleep.”

You pause and blink your bleary eyes. “What? Why...?”

“...‘cause it’s a special day and I’m cooking up a surprise.”

Although that’s super cute... you don’t exactly like the thought of Stanley making food, to tell the truth. You almost puked, first time he tried. He has a lot of skills and virtues, but his cooking isn’t one of them, unfortunately. “Babe, I told you there’s no need to make a big deal of our second anniversary...”

“Yeah, but why’s that for you to decide?” he playfully retorts as he heads out the bedroom door. Shouting back at you down the hallway as he hastens away. “Besides, you’re gonna need something to build your strength up after getting fucked so good and hard last night. Stay put and don’t even try sneaking into the kitchen, alright?”

“Fine,” you sigh, figuring that you might as well listen. No harm letting your man do his thing in the kitchen. You just hope that he won’t be offended if you can’t hold down what he’s serving... especially now that your body’s especially prone to hurling, for reasons that he just unwittingly stopped you from sharing with him.

You can picture him trying to cook, looking so adorably domestic as fuck. So damn cute it hurts. Standing there over the counter in his fugly turtleneck shirt, glancing up every few seconds, just to make sure his girl doesn’t walk in on him while he’s busy at work.

Absentmindedly scratching at his lower back with his wandering fingers, as he shuffles over the cracked tile floor in his raggedy slippers. The ones that he stole from some random hotel years ago. Why he chooses to wear a long-sleeved shirt and slippers, when he can’t be bothered to put on a damn pair of knickers, even in the middle of winter... you don’t even know. It’s such a fucking Stanley thing to do, though.

You can picture the low-hanging hem of his shirt getting stuck in the top of his briefs as he scratches his back. While he just carries on with his business, oblivious, focused on whipping up some sad excuse for a breakfast that will most likely make you gag. Your man can’t cook for crap, and you’re certain that he’s well aware of that fact. So what gives? Where’s he going with this...? You wonder as you wait in bed, enamored with the image of him in your head.

GIFs by uuuhshiny

When he finally returns to the bedroom he’s holding a steaming white mug in his hand, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from grinning like a madman, for reasons that you can’t even begin to understand.

“Okay, listen, Y/N—before you say anything...”

You can already smell the unholy concoction he’s got in his cup, and you’re struggling so hard not to throw the fuck up. “Stan, is that what I think—”

“Hear me out,” he begs, squatting down next to the bed. For some reason he looks all at once shy and proud. “I want you to remember our first time together. The morning after.”

You nervously swallow and nod your head. He can’t really expect you to put that ‘breakfast’ in your mouth—doesn’t he know you’ll spit it right out? You just try to focus on the heartwarming words he just said. “Babe, you know I won’t ever forget. But is that...”

“Yes, it is. Kaminski’s specialty hot shit. The mess I used to make for Lion every day for breakfast. The only family that I ever had, until the day we met.”

You pause at that; is it just a coincidence now that he’s talking about you as family? Surely he knows somehow, what you’re about to tell him now. You want to just tell him already, so badly. “Stanley...”

“Just let me say this. Please,” he murmurs, shifting where he’s squatting on the floor, repositioning his knees. “Tonight I was thinking of taking you out to some nice swanky place I can’t even afford... would’ve tipped the waiter off to drop a little something in the fancy French champagne we ordered...”

Your heart stops as it hangs on his words. Why is he suddenly... down on one knee...

“But I thought maybe this would mean a little more,” he continues. “Baby, I cooked this for you, the first morning I ever woke to the most beautiful view... because a part of me already knew. I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything before. I was already fucking yours. I never would’ve made this crap for anyone but family—that shit’s sacred to me. And now I know, deep down, that’s what I always wanted you to be.”

“Stanley...”

“You had to dig through so much shit, inside of me, and stole my fucking heart right out of it. Still can’t believe you did. Still can’t believe you think I’m worth it. Scared I’ll wake up any second just to see that this was all some crazy dream.”

Your heart is bursting at the seams. “Believe it, baby. You’re worth everything to me. I’ll dig through all that shit again, if it means being with you in the end.”

He holds the cup out toward you like the treasure that it is. “That’s what it means. That’s what I’m asking you with this. Dig, baby, dig.”

You love this man so much more than you can believe. So much for him thinking that you would never touch him with a ten-foot stick. 

Your hand dives straight into the mess to find the ring and scream out yes. Stan smiles and wipes the excess stuff off on his sleeve, then slides it carefully onto your finger as you shower him with kisses. Honestly couldn’t be happier right now that someone else is here to witness.

And he needs to know it, right this fucking minute.

After he takes your newly bejeweled hand in his, blessing it with a kiss... you take his hand in yours and press it onto the surprise that you’ve been harboring inside. Your secret little Stanley. “So... you know I had something to tell you as well, right? I’m not the only one who’s so happy about this. Happy to be part of your family.”

His eyes go wide, the brightest light you’ve ever seen. “Y/N...! Y/N, does—does this mean...”

You answer with a smile as big as his, and seal the promise with a kiss. “Dream, baby, dream.”

***************

Hope you enjoyed this!! Would love to hear if you did! 🤗💖

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[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Kou [Brute Ending]

Monologue

Back then, I believed that

I understood Kou-kun’s feelings.

I believed that,

we were on the same page.

However...That was nothing more,

than a misunderstanding on my part.

The darkness inside his heart,

which even made him feel hatred towards humans,

was not as simple as I initially thought.

ー The scene starts in the underground dungeon

Yui: Haah...haah...

Kou: Fufu~ Don’t struggle. If you don’t keep still, I’ll miss the mark and it’ll only hurt even more, you know?

Yui: ...Uu...!!

Kou: Don’t be such a crybaby. This much won’t kill you, you know?

They’re all punishments which I had to bear in the past, so you can rest assured, right? It basically guarantees that you won’t die from it!

Yui: ...why...

Kou: What was that~? Can’t hear you~ 

Yui: Why...do you do this...

Kou: Why? Little late to ask, don’t you think? I’ve done this sorta stuff plenty of times so far, right? Don’t you like this?

Also, I figured that while I’m pleasing you, I might as well test something out as well.

You know, I really just can’t understand these confusing feelings.

However, when you held that knife and were about to end your life...Only back then, I felt as if I was about to have a break through.

So that’s why...I think that if you were at risk of death again, this time everything might just become clear to me.

But this is a little troublesome...I’ve inflicted so much pain upon you, but I still don’t feel quite the same as back then.

I’m already irritated as is, this really sucks...

At this rate, I might lose my reason and actually kill you.

Yui: ...

Kou: ...I’ve gone crazy, huh? Yeah, that might just be the case.

But I had this thought, you know. That perhaps those rotten aristocrats might have actually loved me.

If that were truly to be the case, I wouldn’t mind forgiving them. After all...

Killing someone you love is much more fun than doing the same to someone you don’t give a damn about, right?

*Stab*

Yui: ...!!

Ah...

ー Yui collapses

*Thud*

Kou: Ahー... Nn...It’s been a while since I’ve lapped up your blood, huh? 

...Nnー Blood directly from the heart is a step above the rest...

Yui: ...

Kou: Aha! You’ve finally gone quiet! Such a clever girl, M-neko-chan! Shall I give you a kiss as your reward?

Yui: ...

Kou: ...Oi, are you listening?

*Smack*

Kou: Oi, I’m talking to you, Yui. M-neko-chan?

...Did you die?

Hah? No way, right? No matter how weak humans may be, you wouldn’t die this easily, right?

Her heart has stopped...The fuck?

...You won’t move anymore? Hey!

*Rustle*

Kou: ...

You won’t...ever call my name again?

You’ll never smile or cry again...with that horrible face of yours?

...Is that what it means to die? Hey, Yui...

*Rustle*

Yui: ...

Kou: ...I don’t like this...

No!! I don’t want that!!

I don’t want this...!! I don’t want you to die...!!

Oi, Yui!!

*Smack*

Kou: Oi! Open your eyes!! Hey!!

Yui: ...

Kou: ...Why...!!?

Yui: ...

Kou: ...Uu...Aah...! Aaah...!!

No...! Wake up...Yui...!

ー Karlheinz steps into the room

Karlheinz: ーー Kou.

Kou: Uwah...Aah...

Karlheinz: ...You are crying from your fake eye. Kou, what did you see with that eye of yours? Did you see something important?

ー Kou kneels down in front of Karlheinz

*Rustle*

Karlheinz: ...Why are you getting down on your knees in front of me?

Kou: ...I’m begging you...

I don’t care what you have to do! I’ll even sacrifice my own life! So please...!

Karlheinz: You want me to save her? I cannot do that.

Kou: I’m begging you! I don’t care what happens to me!! But please, save Yui...!!

Karlheinz: Give up. This is the crime you committed. One cannot return from death. That is what being human means.

Kou: ...No...Yui...

...Right.

*Cling*

*STAB*

Kou: ...I’ll return this...to you. This special eye you gave me.

I am sure this is worth a lot so it would go to waste on someone like me, right!?

I will give this back! So please, save her...!

Karlheinz: ...Do you want to save this maiden that badly?

Kou: ...Then...!

Karlheinz: However, that is not enough. If you want to save her, I want one more thing. Give me your left eye as well, Kou.

Kou: Eh...?

Karlheinz: In the past, you chose death over losing your left eye.

Are you able to give up on the eye you so desperately protected? Do you have that resolve in you?

Kou: ...

*STAB*

Kou: Aaaah...!!

Karlheinz: ...Only a moment of hesitation, huh?

*Cling*

Kou: ...Will you...save Yui now...?

Karlheinz: Now that you have lost both eyes, you will never be able to gaze up at the blue sky you continuously yearned for.

However, right now you should understand. That the ‘blue sky’ you have been looking for, is not the one you can see with your eyes.

*TIMESKIP*

*Thump*

Yui: ...Nn...

Kou: ...! Yui! You’ve regained consciousness!?

Yui: Cough...Kou-kun...?

Kou: Aah, Yui...! I can really...! I can hear your voice again! Where...Where are you?

Yui: I’m right here...Right in front of you...

Kou: I see...Thank god. I...

Yui: Kou-kun, can you not see me...? No way...How come...?

Kou: No, it’s fine.

I did something much more horrible to you after all. This barely even counts as a punishment.

Yui: ( What on earth happened to me...? I can’t...remember anything. )

*Thump*

Yui: ( My heart...is oddly restless. )

Kou: Yui...I’m begging you, talk to me. Otherwise, I don’t know whether you are really still with me, and I get scared...

Yui: ...I’m right here.

*Rustle*

Yui: Can you feel my hand?

Kou: Yeah...I can. Thank god. You really are here...

Say, let me touch you more. Put me at ease more.

Yui: Yeah...

*Rustle*

Kou: ...Ruki-kun was right. We weren’t meant to be. I messed up again...

Yui: ...It’s fine. No matter what happens, I’ll be okay now.

I wonder why...But I can tell. That I am no longer human.

Kou: ...Don’t tell me, you too...?

Yui: Yeah, I’m sure. I’m the same as you guys.

Kou: I see. That’s why your hand is so...

Yui: Cold?

Kou: Yeah. Also, your cheeks too. And...Right here, your lips as well.

*Smooch*

Kou: Whether your a human or a Vampire...Or even Eve, it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re here with me.

If you are by my side, I don’t need my eyes. I don’t care about being able to see the sky.

This is love, isn’t it...?

ー The scene shifts to Karlheinz’ room

Karlheinz: ーー Is that another form of love, I wonder? Kou, you will find the answer to the question...once you have become Adam.

*Rustle*

...The eye which kept on yearning for the blue sky, huh?

I suppose you really have no use for this anymore, Kou. Not now that you’ve obtained your one and only sky.

ー The scene shifts to the garden

Yui: Kou-kun, are you okay? Watch your step.

Kou: Yeah, I’m fine. You’re supporting me after all.

Seems like it’s a nice day out today. I can smell the sun.

Yui: There’s a beautiful, clear blue sky. ...I’d love to show you as well.

Kou: Is it that pretty?

Yui: Yeah. There’s not a single cloud in sight.

Kou: I see. But it’s fine.

I may not be able to watch the sky with these eyes anymore but...A beautiful sky is still visible to me.

Yui: What do you mean?

Kou: I can see it any time when you’re walking right next to me like this. The blue sky inside my heart.

That’s all I need.

So...Yui, stay by my side forever, okay?

Yui: ...Yeah. We’ll be together forever.

Kou: Haha. Those words are convincing now that you’ve become a Vampire.

Yui: ( ーー Just like Kou-kun, I threw away my human nature. )

( I doubt Father would ever forgive me. ...I am sure we will never be able to see each other again. )

( Both me and Kou-kun have suffered great losses, have lost too much...However, even so... )

Kou: Yui, is something the matter?

Yui: No. Say, let’s go for a little stroll.

Monologue

They were all necessary sacrifices,

to be able to walk side-by-side like this.

He lost his eyes, no longer able

to watch the sky he longed for all this time.

However, as the one walking by his side, I can tell.

That the blue sky is always shining brightly,

inside his heart.

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbkouending3

[smallheathgangsters]

Victims of War | T.S.

A/N: Turned out kinda sad and angsty, but not in a negative way, at least in my opinion. I hope you all like it as well 🥰 Sorry for any mistakes I made!

Request: “I'd like to request from you're prompt list ! 20 & 34, w/ Thomas Shelby !” by @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

Tags: @tranquility-or-chaos​ @zodiyack​

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1867

Type: angst, some fluff

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

On the 4th of August 1914 you had received the devastating news about the United Kingdom’s declaration of war against the German Empire. You and your family had known exactly what that meant for your younger brother. Because he was serving officer in the British regular army, he had unfortunately been one of the first men to be sent off. On top of that, he’d been placed at the front line only two weeks into the war, making you fear for his life every single day, hoping that the next letter from him to you was still one he’d written himself and not a notice from the army about them being sorry for your loss.

Even though your brother was born a year after you, the two of you had been like twins. There hadn’t been a day in your childhood where you didn’t play together and when you got older, he was the one protecting you from any harm, not caring about himself actually being your younger sibling. When you started getting closer to the gypsy boy Tommy Shelby, it was more important to you that your brother gave you his blessing instead of your father or mother. All you wanted was him to be okay with the man you were seeing, his opinion being very important to you. Luckily, he’d let you know that he liked Thomas a lot and even began hanging out with Tommy’s younger brother John, soon making them best of friends. All that ended up in countless evenings of the four of you spending time together, having a laugh and a drink.

A few days ago, Tommy had told that he and his two brothers, John and Arthur, had volunteered to join the war as well. His confession turned your conversation into a heated discussion and eventually into a crying fit on your part. You just couldn’t understand how he had the heart to put you through that pain of letting somebody go and not knowing if they returned, again. He had witnessed what seeing your brother leave had done to you. The knowledge of him being part of the infantry and with that one of the men with the lowest chance of surviving, if they were sent to the front line, in the back of your mind. He’d also been there when your fears turn to reality when you’d opened his letter in which he had informed you about his transfer to the front line. It had been too soon for you to accept, for you to fully process.

Tommy had spent every night with you after your brother had said his goodbyes, but since he’d told you about him volunteering, it hadn’t been the same. His warm embrace wasn’t as warm anymore and his kisses didn’t give you the same comfort as they did before. It had nothing to do with you loving him less. It had been the cold fear that had settled in your chest, knowing that your days together were counted. That realisation had made it hard for you to savour the time you had left with him.

The sun wasn’t up yet when you woke. Tommy was lying on his chest, his head turned to the centre of the bed, facing you. Soft snores escaped his mouth, making you chuckle quietly at the sound and sight. You sighed and sat up. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d got a good night’s sleep. Your dreams had been nightmares ever since, forcing you to wake up multiple times and eventually giving up, making you get up and start your day. You’d always let Tommy sleep, knowing he needed to gain his strength for the war, and it wasn’t like you to make it harder on him than it already was. You knew deep down that Tommy had only volunteered because of his brothers. They both didn’t have a girlfriend, so nothing was holding them back.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and your feet came in contact with the cool wooden floor when you let yourself slide off the mattress. You padded over to the armchair in the corner of your room where your light dressing gown had been placed the evening before. You grabbed it and stuck your arms through the long sleeves, tying it together in the front. It helped a little with the chilly air in the morning, keeping your skin from immediately getting goose bumps.

You decided to go down to the kitchen of your parents’ home and put on the kettle to make some tea. That would help you relax from the exhausting night you’d had yet again and seemed like a good way to start the day. So, you headed down the stairs, past the living room and into the large kitchen. It was your favourite room in the whole house because even though your home was rather tiny, the kitchen had so much space to cook, bake or just hang out in. It used to be like the gathering place of your family when your brother was still around.

You placed the kettle with water onto the stove and turned it on, waiting for it to boil while you took out a tea pot, some tea bags and a cup. A few minutes later, the kettle started whistling irritatingly and you promptly pulled it away from the heat. After preparing your cup of tea you wandered back to the living room and let yourself fall onto the sofa. You closed your eyes and tilted back your head, trying to breathe as calmly as possible. The dreams you had had that night had been horrible. You’d seen your brother’s face too clearly, too intensely and you tried desperately to get the images out of your mind. Not because you wanted to stop thinking about him or even forget him. You loved the thought of your brother but not the ones that your sleeping brain provided you with. They were awful and all you wanted was to reminisce in memories from before the war. When everything had been alright. When life was almost carefree.

“Are you up already?”

Tommy’s groggy morning voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You lifted your head back up and gave him a kind smile. “I had nightmares.”

He sighed compassionately and came over to you, sitting on the sofa as well. He wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you to his chest. “I’m sorry you’re still having trouble sleeping.”

“It’s okay,” you said, inhaling your boyfriend’s pleasant scent. “I won’t be able to sleep until you and my brother are back. It’ll have to get used to it.”

Tommy sighed again, this time more deeply than before. “That’s not something I like to hear.”

“I know, but there’s nothing you can do about it,” you explained. He started caressing your back gently. You stayed in Tommy’s arms for a while, sipping on your peppermint tea and after you watched the sun rise and slowly peek through the windows, you got up to make him a cup as well.

“I’ll get the mail,” Tommy announced from the living room while you were working in the kitchen. Then you heard the front door open and close. A few moments later, Tommy was back inside with the newspaper and two letters in his hands. You carried his cup to the dining table and set it down. He handed you the letters, sat on the chair in front of his tea and opened up the newspaper to read about yesterday’s events. He only just flipped over to the third page when you let out a high-pitched scream.

Tommy’s head shot up in concern. “Love, what is it?”

You were holding the yellowish piece of paper in both your trembling hands, tears running over your cheeks uncontrollably. The sobs escaping your mouth were heart-breaking. You tried to finish reading the words on the letter, but the tears made your sight go blurry.

Sir or Madam, I regret to have to inform you that a report has been received from the War Office to the effect that (No.) 1563 (Rank) 2Lt …

“No!” you cried out. “No, please no!”

Tommy pushed himself off his chair and rushed over to you, pulling you into a strong hug, as though he would never let you go. You cried into his chest, staining his nightshirt while mumbling incomprehensible words to yourself.

Tommy knew from the moment he saw the pain in your eyes, that the message on your brother’s passing had been delivered to your house. You felt your knees become week and Tommy immediately scooped you up, carrying you back to the sofa and placing you on his lap when he sat down, cradling you comfortingly. He tried soothing you with sweet kisses on your hair, but in that moment, nothing was able to get you out of the dark place you were in. Not even Tommy could change that.

You wept and sobbed and screamed and hiccupped. But the pain was unbearable. You felt like there wasn’t enough air for you to breathe and the knot in your chest made it hard for you to inhale.

“It hurts so much,” you cried, your body shaking violently in Tommy’s arms.

“I know, love. I know it hurts,” he murmured, giving you a kiss on the forehead. His thumb wiped away the wetness from your cheeks, unsuccessfully trying to dry them.

You started gasping for air. “I … can’t … breathe.”

“You need to calm down, love,” Tommy said, lifting your head from his chest to stop you from hyperventilating. “Please, try to calm down. Can you do that for me, love?”

You nodded panicky, scared by the loss of control over your body. Tommy cupped your face gently with his hands, looking deeply into your eyes. “I love you. So much.”

You whimpered, torn between the pain the death of your brother inflicted on your heart and Tommy’s gaze, so full of love and support.

“We’re going to get through this, together,” Tommy whispered, brushing his lips over yours. You melted into his touch, closing your eyes to savour the moment.

“I can’t lose you too,” you sobbed. Tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes yet again. The thought of him leaving ripping you apart internally. “Please don’t go.”

You knew, Tommy wouldn’t stay. And he didn’t. Joining his brothers in France, digging tunnels and going mad. Luckily though, unlike your sweet, sweet brother, he returned. Alive. You had hoped the return of the love of your life would make everything okay again. But it didn’t take you long to realise that despite Tommy being fortunate enough to survive the war, something in him had died. Still, you were determined to get him back, no matter what it took. He was all you had and all you needed. And there was nothing that kept you from helping him get through the hard times after these horrible four years. You were there for him and you knew, someday the love and effort you were putting into your relationship would be returned by Tommy. Just not today.  

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder x reader #peaky blinders one shot #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby one shot #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby one shot #finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby one shot #michael gray #michael gray x reader #michael gray one shot #isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus one shot

[tripleaxeldiaz]

all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 2/5

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The bell above the door to Armageddon dings as Eddie steps inside, met with the blast of air conditioning and loud music (he recognizes the band, it’s one Buck has played for him before. 10 Years Sturdy? Something like that.). He’s exhausted after a day of back-to-back-to-back deliveries, including two weddings, some kind of charity gala, and a funeral. He does arrangements for funerals often enough, but he still can’t get over the way his stomach turns every time he walks into a funeral home. The memories of being in one, after his last tour especially, mourning his brothers and sisters in arms never leave him alone. They coil around his brain, reminding him that they would be here if he had saved them, if he had been a better leader, a better soldier.

So he’s physically and emotionally exhausted, and all he wants to do is pick up Chris, go home, shower, and sleep for 48 hours. It’s only Wednesday, and he does have work in the morning, but the thought is still nice.

He heads towards the back room, waving at Chimney who gives him a salute back, not looking up from whatever he’s doing on his client’s calf. The guy hisses in pain, and Eddie snorts as Chim rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

As he enters the back office/lounge, he sees Chris and Buck hunched over the table against the side wall, heads leaning together, the surface covered in discarded sketches and crumpled drawings deemed too terrible to save. He sees them like this more often than not, whether in this room or The Greenhouse’s back room or his kitchen table, but it never fails to settle something in him. It’s been Chris and him against the world for so long, it’s nice to have another person in their corner, someone they can rely on. Not to mention, Chris has been Buck’s shadow pretty much from the word go, and Buck always seems genuinely happy to hang out with him. The day they met, Chris spent almost a full hour asking Buck about every tattoo he could see, Buck patiently explaining each one in as much detail as he could give an eight year old. When he offered to show him some of his paper drawings and give him some pointers on his own, Chris had looked at him like he couldn’t quite believe he was real, like he had just offered to draw him a new constellation in the night sky.

Like father, like son.

“He really loves that kid.” Eddie turns towards the soft voice behind him, sees Maddie with a small smile on her face. “I think he likes having someone to teach that doesn’t talk back as much as Chim and me.”

Eddie smiles as he looks back, sees Buck offer a hand for a high five before ruffling Chris’s hair affectionately. “He’s an easy kid to love, that’s for sure.”

“Dad! Come look, Buck taught me how to draw snakes!”

Eddie walks over to the table, peers down at pages of cartoon snakes in various positions. He can see the progression of Chris’s practicing on the pages, going from shaky and unsure to something more realistic as Buck guided him.

“You were halfway there dude, you just needed some help with the movement,” Buck says as Chris preens.

“These look great, buddy. Can you stick them in your backpack so we can get going?”

Chris gathers up his good drawings, pushing the rest of them into the trash can under the table. He picks up his crutches and makes his way to the other side of the room to his backpack and coat.

“Thanks again for watching him, I really thought we’d be done with deliveries by the time school was over,” Eddie says. Buck just shakes his head, a smile similar to Maddie’s on his face as he watches Chris.

“It’s never a problem, Chris is awesome. He offered to hold a girl’s hand that Maddie was working on because it was her first tattoo and she was scared. And then I got to draw with him! That’s definitely a win for me.” Buck looks back at him, and Eddie feels the warm glow of his smile try to sink into his chest. It would’ve, too, if he wasn’t still on edge from his visit to the funeral home. He can feel that his returning smile doesn’t meet his eyes, and Buck looks at him for a moment before setting a hand on his shoulder. Eddie tries his best not to melt at the touch, but feeling the heat through his shirt doesn’t make it easy. “Hey, you good?” Buck asks quietly. “He can keep hanging here for a while if you need some alone time.”

Buck doesn’t know everything. He knows Eddie did two tours, and Eddie had let him draw his own conclusions on how that may have affected him. Whatever Buck thought, he didn’t know the truth, didn’t know the poison sloshing around in his soul, the constant reminder of the light he left behind in Afghanistan and the blackness he brought back instead. And Eddie will do everything he can to keep Buck in the dark, to make sure he never sees those ugly parts of him that even Eddie can’t fully face.

But god does he make it hard. When he looks at him like this, earnest and open, like he can see right through Eddie, all he wants to do is break. Let the poison come spilling out because he knows Buck will help him clean it all up and get rid of it, maybe for good. But he’ll get burned in the process too, and Eddie refuses to let that happen.

So he just shakes his head, forces his smile to a normal size, pats Buck’s arm that’s still holding onto him. “I’m alright man, but thanks. We’ll see you tomorrow, say goodnight Chris.”

“Bye Buck! Thank you!” Chris wraps his arms around Buck’s middle, while Buck bends in half to squeeze back. 

They leave with a wave, say their goodbyes to Chim and Maddie too as they walk out the door. Chris doesn’t stop talking about his afternoon with Buck until he’s tucked into bed. As Eddie goes to bed himself, he tries not to think about a warm body with blonde curls and legs for days taking up the spot next to him, wrapping him in his arms, keeping him safe from the monsters that wait for him in the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~

His brain doesn’t really care what he does or doesn’t want to think about, it seems. 

The dream starts as it often does: he’s in the desert, hiding from enemy fire behind the wreckage of his helicopter, surrounded by the corpses of comrades that he couldn’t save. The others, still alive, are looking at him, outraged and not fighting back, like they already know he’s led them to their deaths. Bullets ricochet off the metal, and one by one the bodies fall, blood spilling out of them, flowing towards him. He’s surrounded by noise and heat and death, and the blood keeps coming, soaking into his boots, staining his skin. He drops his weapon, knowing there’s no use in fighting back. He waits for the inevitable bursts of pain when the bullets finally get him, but after that, he knows it’ll be nothing but blissful, all encompassing silence.

Except this time, when he falls into the darkness that usually wakes him up, he’s not alone. He catches glimpses of sky blue eyes, a lopsided grin, a birthmark that looks like a kiss from the heavens. He sees skin covered in intricate patterns and designs, the ink coming to life as he reaches out to touch. He can’t quite reach it, but it doesn’t matter because he feels safe. Protected. This presence, this warmth that’s surrounding him, makes him feel centered in a way that he hasn’t since...he can’t remember when. And he can’t do anything but sink into it, wrap himself up and burrow into it like he knows he won’t allow himself the same luxury when the sun comes up. It feels like home, like salvation. Like the thing Eddie’s been needing to make him feel right again.

So he takes. He knows it’s just a dream, so he takes and he takes, and he doesn’t feel bad. 

When he wakes with a start, hands twisted in his sheets, he desperately tries to hold onto as much detail as he can, but it’s all slipping away as he becomes more and more conscious. Some things stay — the eyes, the smile. The overwhelming warmth. And there’s an ache, too. A longing, physical ache that still lingers in his chest even now that he’s awake.

He tries to breathe through it, but then he remembers whose eyes those are, and it pulls him under all over again.

“Shit,” he whispers into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ache is still there as he opens the shop the next day, dull but ever present. He’s pretty self aware, so the depth of his feelings for Buck isn’t news, but he really thought he’d have gotten over it by now. He thought Buck would have stopped in one day to get flowers for someone that wasn’t Eddie, and Eddie would have been crushed, but he’d have been able to start the process of moving on. 

But Buck hasn’t done that. He’s gone on dates, but no more than one or two, always claiming they “just weren’t right for each other.” And Eddie’s dumb heart fluttered every time he said that, and his feelings kept growing and growing, and now they’re physically hurting him and haunting his dreams.

He’s so, so screwed.

The bell above the door dings, and of course it’s Buck, the one time Eddie doesn’t actually want to talk to him. Eddie feels the ache grow, feels it pushing at his ribs, but there’s also that warmth and sense of safety from his dream. That feeling he always gets around Buck, no matter what. It’s hot and cold at the same time, and he can’t even begin to figure out how to process that.

“You know, if you keep glaring like that, you’re gonna scare off your customers. Your smile is a much nicer greeting in the morning.”

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, not fighting said smile that spreads on his face. It’s almost scary how easily Buck can get him to relax. “Says the man with the leather jacket and a nose ring.”

“Hey, I have a very sunny disposition, even if the clothes don’t match. Plus nose rings are cool, not scary.”

“Whatever you say. Here for your flowers?”

Buck smiles brightly, and there goes Eddie’s heart again. “Yep. Whatever you’re feeling.”

Eddie reaches towards the cases of flowers and pauses, because the only thing he’s feeling is how much he wants to grab Buck by the collar and kiss him until they can’t breathe. How much he wants to wake up next to him, cook breakfast with him, make a life with him. How he’s the first person he’s even thought about showing his darkest parts to because he’s getting tired of carrying them all by himself, and he trusts Buck intrinsically to shine his light on them and start to make them better. Start to make Eddie better in the process.

He cannot, however, say any of that out loud. So he settles for the next best thing.

Aster, gardenia, and pink camellia. Trust, love and longing. It’s unbelievably on the nose, but as he hands the bouquet to Buck, he feels a little lighter. Not like he’s getting over it, but like the pressure of holding it all in has been released just enough that Eddie doesn’t feel like he’s drowning. When Buck waves goodbye, he smiles a little easier, because he did tell Buck, in his own way, and he didn’t have to subject him to any of his mess to do so. 

So maybe this is fine. Maybe he can handle these one-sided love declarations that only he understands. Maybe, maybe, he can make this work, until his heart decides it’s had its fill and starts to move on. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s definitely not working. 

Because rather than working it out and moving on like he thought he would, rather than feeling the relief he felt the first time, he just wants more. With every mallow, moonflower, and red tulip he hands over to Buck, he wants to let him know exactly what they mean, exactly how Eddie feels about him.

But anytime he even entertains the idea of coming clean, that little voice in his head reminds him that it doesn’t matter because he’s not enough. If he tells Buck how he feels, he’ll just laugh in his face because even he knows that Eddie wouldn’t be able to give him everything he wants. No matter how supportive he may seem, Buck will take one look at the shredded bits of Eddie that he keeps locked away and leave, because no amount of goodness and light will ever be able to put them back together in a way that resembles someone worthy of that goodness.

Eddie’s never been able to ignore that voice, so he listens and keeps his mouth shut and keeps hoping that one day, he’ll give Buck a bouquet and all of his pent up feelings will just disappear along with it.

A month on, and that day still hasn’t come. It’s cool this morning, so Buck’s leaning over the counter in a hoodie and black beanie, shivering slightly, and Eddie wants to wrap his arms around him and warm him up himself. Or better yet, take him up to his apartment, wrap him in his comforter, and never let him leave.

They talk like normal, and Eddie’s glad he can keep this part up, that their friendship hasn’t suffered any outward damages just because he can’t get his shit together. Hen joins them while Eddie is wrapping Buck’s flowers, and pauses briefly when she sees what Eddie picked out — orange lily and marigold, desire and pain. A strange mix, but it’s exactly what Eddie’s feeling.  He wants Buck so bad it’s starting to hurt.

Buck, thankfully, just smiles as Eddie hands the bouquet off. “These are perfect. Not quite as perfect as our friendly neighborhood florist, but they’re coming in at a close second.”

Eddie just shakes his head, blushing as always. Buck winks, waves to Hen, and steps out the door, letting in a hint of chill as he leaves.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Hen turns to Eddie, fixing him with a pointed look that almost makes him flinch.

“What?” he asks, straightening up the front counter just so he doesn’t have to look at her too long.

“I know what flowers mean too, you know, and I see the ones you keep giving to our favorite tattoo artist.”

Eddie breathes out hard through his nose, rests his head on the counter. It takes more willpower than he’d like to stop him from banging in on the hard surface a few times.

“You really should talk to him.”

He looks up at her, vaguely panicking at the thought. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Because his friendship means too much to me, and to Chris.

Because I refuse to open myself up and drag him down to this hole with me.

Because I’m not what he deserves, and I never will be.

“It’s complicated.”

Hen shakes her head, shrugs as she turns towards the back room. “All I’m saying is, he’s in here all the time, and flirts with you like it’s his job. I don’t think that’s all for nothing.”

She heads to the back, leaving Eddie to wallow. Maybe she’s right, maybe Buck does feel even a fraction of what Eddie feels, but that doesn’t change anything. Buck is still one of the best people he’s ever met, and Eddie is still full of unfixable darkness.

And he’s still so, so screwed.

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fox #eddie doesn't know what's going on in his head and honestly? relatable #the flower shop #ficcery

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 183 prt 2

Shiro snorted humourlessly

“He threw it in my face. When you woke up, he threw it back in my face that you wanted to die. He didn’t do anything...”

“What did you expect him to do? To turn me into a vampire? Between being a werewolf and a vampire, being a werewolf has to be the better option. Or can’t you care about me the same you used to, now I’m a wolf?”

Shiro snorted again

“I asked him the same thing. If he couldn’t love you as a werewolf and that’s why he’d prefer you die”

“No wonder he’s so mad at you. You know he’d be devastated if I did. He just... he wanted me to come back so badly...”

This was awkward. All Shiro seemed to really talk about was Lance. Not Curtis... his actual boyfriend

“How’s Curtis?”

“Up and down. Coran said it’d take some time for his mind to adjust. Why?”

“He’s your boyfriend and he’s a friend. Do I need a reason to care now?”

“No. I just... never mind”

Keith was sick of this. He wanted to have a normal proper conversation with his brother

“If you have something to say, say it. If you regret making the choice then tell me. You keep talking about Lance and when I try to ask you about Curtis, you brush it aside. I don’t get what you’re thinking when you don’t talk to me”

“I don’t regret making the choice to save you. What I want is for you to be happy, and it worries me that you’re rushing into things with Lance again”

Who was rushing? He and Lance had a ton of issues to work out

“Lance and I aren’t rushing. Last night was the first night he let me sleep next to him again. We’ve barely hugged. Forget kissing and sex stuff... We’re both trying to figure out how to keep things going between us because we love each other”

“I just don’t want you being hurt”

He was already hurt. He’d been hurt and that’d led to this whole bloody mess. The demon had been contained all along. Lance nearly lost the twins and nearly lost him on top of it. Now he was a werewolf and his own brother hated himself for turning him into one. All Keith wanted was for everyone to act normal, but he couldn’t handle normal right now. He could barely handle whatever he was.

Scratching between Kosmo’s ears, Kosmo thumped his tail lazily. Would he enjoy being a wolf the next time it happened? Would he remember it? He couldn’t be scared of what had happened. That was the new normal, though it did scare him that he didn’t remember

“Right now, the only thing hurting me, is that you can’t forgive Lance. My ego already thinks of him as my mate and it’s fucking crazy. I have to wear glasses or I see way too much. I’ve got Lance’s hoodie on because everyone smells too much. Look, I know I was a dick when you came to see me. I know because I couldn’t stop the words coming out my mouth. I was so damn angry. All I wanted to do was break things. I can’t take but what I said, and it sounds like a cop out to say it was ego talking. I’m glad I’m not dead. I’m glad I’m going to know my twins, even if that scares me now more than ever. I don’t know how to be a dad and now every action I take has to be careful. It’s almost too much to cope with, then Lance... God. He’s fucking frustrating. He doesn’t hate me. He doesn’t blow up. He’d rather self destruct than hurt me. I know I’m being impatient but I don’t know how to keep my head up when you two aren’t talking. I don’t know a lot of things anymore and half the time I don’t feel like the old me is still in here”

“That’s part of the reason I want to bring you home. I want you to know I’m here for you. I want you to rediscover all those things you love”

That sounded a lot like Lance. He’d copped a peek at Lance’s white board and print outs. Lance had made all kinds of notes he thought might help Keith and activities he thought might help him adjust to life as a werewolf. For some reason there was a printout of a page about London, with a Chinese menu taped to it. He didn’t get it, and he didn’t want to question it when Lance had put so much work into it.

“I appreciate that. For now, I feel like I need to be here. I couldn’t handle a room filled with our friends. I don’t think I could handle crowds”

Shiro raised an eyebrow

“You’ve always been bad with crowds”

“Ha ha. You’re not very funny”

Huffing, his brother crossed his arms. Shiro’s wounds from that day still looked bad. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to Curtis about it because Curtis blamed himself too much as it was. They really needed to talk it out... and now he was sounding like Lance. Lance loooooved talking things out

“I thought I was hilarious”

“Try harder, old man”

“Maybe you should accept my sense of humour for a change?”

“And give into your lameness, I think not”

Some how the tension had started to lift from shoulders. He still wanted very much to hit his brother, but Shiro was trying to make an attempt at normalcy

“You’ve always been lame, kiddo”

“I’ll remember that next time I wolf out”

Shiro’s heart gave a particularly hard thump, interrupting its strong and steady rhythm. Hearing heartbeats... was so weird. Lance’s being so slow in comparison

“Shiro, don’t be like that”

“I didn’t say anything”

“No, but you thought it”

Keith didn’t want to admit he’d somehow had become a lie detector, not when Shiro had a right to his personal thoughts and feelings

“The idea of you... It worries me. That someone will label you as a threat and someday they’ll come for you”

Coran couldn’t protect him and Lance forever. He’d assured Lance so many times that he’d be there to protect him, now he’d have to give some real thought to how to protect himself

“They’d be foolish. Three werewolves, one a hunter, and a vampire. It’s not like the first time we came here”

“You hated Lance so much. I remember you sulking the whole time because you couldn’t just kill him on the spot”

“After Adam... Lance was just another vampire that deserved to die. If I’d killed him, I wouldn’t have all of this... I know he’s changed me, but I think in some ways it’s for the better”

“He’s changed all of us”

“This is true. Will you talk to him?”

Shiro brought his hands up to scrub at his face

“I don’t know what to tell him. I was disappointed he’d give up on you so easily. I was disappointed that he didn’t take care of himself after his body started aborting. I was disappointed he spent every moment by your side, but didn’t seem to care that much about Curtis as he never really asked for us to come see you. And it hurt. He was cold as he told me you wanted to die, almost as if he enjoyed knowing how much it hurt me. Your brainwaves were stable initially. You never came out from going under. Then suddenly you got worse. I wondered if he’d given you his blood out of desperation, but Coran said no. He found traces of Lance’s DNA in your blood stream, dead cells... that didn’t turn you. It made no sense but I still wondered if that was why you didn’t wake up”

“That’s probably because I kissed Lance when his lips were bloody. The way Coran explained it is that there needs to be that intent to turn for the curse to take. Lance never wanted me to turn. He’s probably been beating himself up...”

Stopping mid-sentence, Keith looked back over his shoulder. Shiro frowning as he followed his gaze

“What is it?

“Lance and Curtis went out the back to have a talk...”

“I should...”

Shiro really shouldn’t. Lance was mid-apology as Curtis tried to stop him. This hearing too much thing sucked

“Leave them. They need to talk. Sorry, I can’t remember what I was saying”

“I thought werewolves were like vampires”

“If we are, then I haven’t really noticed it much... Rieva said she’d tell me more. Apparently werewolves have adapted rapidly in the last hundred or so years, but there’s certain things that are important”

“Like?”

“Just because we turn into wolves doesn’t make us like them. We’ve steadily become more human than wolf. Things like that. It’ll be handy to know for future hunts”

“Then you’re coming back?”

Yeah. Lance had been right about him still needing his job. As long as Shiro was still working, he couldn’t leave his brother to be put in potentially life threatening circumstances

“Yeah. I mean, it might take a bit longer, but... I need to be doing something. I want to protect my friends and my family, including you. The thought of anything happening to you... I couldn’t stand it if it was caused by my wavering back and forth. I want my kids to not have to worry about werewolves and vampires, or their friends being hurt... This is all subject to whether you and Curtis will let a wolf partner with you”

“You can’t be any worse than Matt”

“I don’t know. Matt is like a technical genius”

“You have your own qualities too”

Keith’s ego growled internally at Shiro. Lance would have jumped in to defend him, telling Shiro how manly and skilled he was. Keith didn’t really know what to defend himself with

“Thanks. I feel like you just handed me a participant trophy for nothing”

“Nah, you’re fine. So I really can’t tempt you to come back home?”

“I’m sorry... but for now, I think this is where I should be. When my ego settles I’ll come stay for a bit... provided things are going well with the twins”

“Did Lance talk to you about them?”

“A bit. You know, we still have a nursery to finish”

“I’m allowed back in there?”

“I won’t bite...”

“That’s all I ask. Reckon there’s any cookies left?”

“You know Hunk. He’ll have three other stashes with him”

“That’s true...”

The conversation petered off comfortably. He’d talked to his brother and Shiro did seem kind of wanting to make up with Lance... Hopefully they’d make up today. He still had so much to talk to Shiro about, but for now, he was content getting back on even footing with his brother.

#oncebittentwicestupid #once bitten twice stupid #ashratherose

[the-pontiac-bandit]

miri + sympathy

Miri had never quite gotten the hang of pranks, but she’d certainly improved in her years with the Riders. Her ideas tended to be less subtle and more absurd, aiming for shock that could elicit an entertaining reaction rather than finesse in the prank itself. While she could appreciate finesse in the pranks of others--Evin did have a particular talent for it, after all--she found that successful execution of such complicated plans required far more work than she had any desire to put in. Commanding Spiderdeath--and avoiding being pranked herself--took plenty of her time.

It was only the look on Evin’s face when she saw him last week in the mess hall that had persuaded her to try. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, which was hardly unusual in and of itself, but he’d snapped at three trainees in line for supper and had failed to clean up the ink stains he left splattered all over the table he sat at alone with his reports. His workload had steadily increased in the months since Buri had officially turned traitor on the Riders to ride with the Own, and she knew he must be losing his mind with all but three of the Rider groups stationed at the northern border in the middle of the largest war in more than a decade, but even she couldn’t deny after that that he deserved to be taken down a peg or two. As the leader of the only group currently in residence at the palace, she’d known it was her place to take the initiative.

She’d brainstormed frantically for days. For all her creativity in cursing her ponies when they didn’t comply--even more than a decade after her first day, she still had what her trainees called an “adversarial and tenuous” working relationship with horses--she’d struggled to think of the right prank to take down a new commander by approximately three notches without ruining any critical paperwork, destroying Crown property, or getting herself fired. She’d started to suspect that this was all an elaborate prank on her from her group members. After all, she found herself the victim of an elaborate joke that threatened to ruin her sanity once and for all at least six times a year, but when she asked for their help with Evin, they’d simply informed her that they’d, of course, do as their group commander told them and left her to her own devices on the planning. Although, she supposed, that might have something to do with how intimidating they found Evin--for all that she thought he was a silly player at heart, with hair that flopped in his eyes and a propensity for wild and poorly-thought out gestures of affection for his friends, she had to wonder if he seemed quite so non-threatening to the brand new Riders who had spent a summer watching him wage a unique brand of psychological warfare that might have scared even Sarge, although he’d never admit it.

As she sat on his desk, kicking her feet against one drawer while she lazed back on her hands against some reports, she wondered if she’d gone too far. Certainly, Kitten had thought the ice slide was a grand idea, but Kitten was a dragon, and a toddler, and Miri would never have trusted her opinion if she hadn’t been quite so desperate.

It took ages for Evin to return from his meeting with the queen. She’d checked his schedule carefully with one of the Rider clerks, and he was expected back by the fourth bell after lunch, but the fifth was rapidly approaching by the time she heard footsteps in the corridor leading to his office. She used one of the last moments she had as he turned a key in the latch to check that the door to the courtyard behind her was still fully shut, apparently locked, and snapped around to face front as he entered the room.

“You’re on my desk because...?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Because last time I sat in one of the chairs, and you failed to notice my presence for a full twenty minutes.”

He’d been nose-deep in a sheaf of papers when he’d come in, a brisk fall breeze blowing leaves in behind him from the courtyard, and he’d walked straight past her. She’d been entertained at first, but it took a kick to the shins under the desk, after she’d cleared her throat several times, to make him realize he was not alone.

“It wasn’t twenty minutes! It couldn’t have been more than five before you left a bruise so bad my leg throbbed for weeks!”

“Weeks? My sources tell me you were fully healed not three days later when you met Sera Gladstone behind the merchants’ day-stables.”

“How’d you hear about that one?” Evin demanded, a hint of awe in his voice.

“I have my sources,” she replied with a pert shrug and a grin.

“I’d commit murder for your sources, Miri. You still won’t turn spy for me?”

“Wherever would I find the time? My commander gets fussy if I don’t have my Riders fully trained and ready to move at his slightest whim,” she shot back. “I thought your side job was a secret from the Riders, anyway.”

“If I can keep it that way.” Evin rubbed his eyes hard, smudging a bit of ink on one temple and leaving his cheeks ruddy. “Sometimes I think I’m one more late night away from cracking and telling the whole palace, just so George will kill me quick.”

“That bad?”

“That bad. I’ve got nearly ten daily reports to read and condense for George now, plus, you know, the actual war going on that Buri dumped me straight in the middle of, plus finding recruits for next spring when not a parent in the kingdom wants their child in military service, plus--”

Miri cut him off before he could get going. “Let’s take a walk then,” she said, perhaps a bit too quickly, with a prayer to the Trickster that he hadn’t noticed. 

“With what time?”

“With the time before dinner. You look like you need it.”

“It’s below freezing.”

“You love the cold.”

“And you hate it.”

Miri almost sighed before she caught herself. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten herself in this mess, but there were three gallons of purple paint strung up above his door and Riders waiting with very precise instructions on the roof, so she figured she’d best get moving before something came crashing down.

“I’d brave the cold for you, sir,” she said, with her best, most casual eye roll. “My Commander requires a break, and I’m proud to be of service.” She took on some of his own airs in her reply. She’d discovered in their years of friendship that nothing amused him so much as her attempts to put on his Player airs, and she had a vested interest in getting him outside before the sparrows who had agreed to participate left for the page’s wing and their evening meal. 

He sighed as he pushed his chair back from his desk. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

“What?” Miri asked, doing her best to feign innocence. “Is a walk with your oldest friend that intolerable?”

“Miri, you have the worst poker face of anyone I’ve ever met. I’d actually like to rescind my earlier job offer, based solely on this performance. But if I’m going to get pranked, I’d at least like to make it quick so I can get at the reports you’re currently sitting on.”

His eyes darkened as he looked at the stack of papers beneath her, and he rubbed his eyes again. Close to him for the first time in more than two weeks, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the new wrinkles at their corners.

“You really are exhausted,” she commented, a twinge of sympathy turning into guilt in the pit of her stomach at the thought of the large quantities of bread dough waiting to cushion his fall at the foot of Kitten’s ice slide.

“I really am.” Evin was moving towards the door to the courtyard, steeling himself with a deep breath while he removed his tunic and folded it carefully on the chair behind his desk that Miri had avoided. 

The twinge of sympathy she’d felt was now a wave, engulfing her and threatening to make her do something she’d never have considered even a half-hour before: back down. 

“Wait! Maybe don’t...open that yet.” She hopped off his desk, wincing as several of the top papers follow her down. Evin paused, one hand on the door’s latch.

She looked around the room frantically for something long enough and found a poker, propped against the small fireplace in one wall. She grabbed it and leaped over the arm onto the chair where Evin’s tunic sat. She spared a quick giggle at his dramatic wince and then tapped the ceiling above her firmly, twice fast and three times slow. She counted to five and repeated the code for good measure--any good Rider plan, they’d been taught, has an out.

When she looked back down, Evin was smiling. There was a familiar glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that had been missing for weeks. “What was going to happen?”

“Kitten had made an ice slide, and Johanssen and Norris are on the roof with some purple paint, and I had the bakers set dough at the bottom to cushion you, and, well, things escalate from there. The sparrows are probably gone by now, anyway, and I’m not sure that Onua ever set up the wooden horses, she looked so annoyed when I asked...”

Miri trailed off, as Evin started to laugh. She let out a chuckle or two herself as she watched him lose control in fits of giggles, relieved to find that her friend was still there, under the stress and paperwork.

“You’re going to be great at this, you know,” she commented casually, hoping he knew how much she meant the rare compliment.

“I hope you’re right,” he replied, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes as he caught his breath. “Anyway, could we actually go on a walk, now? I’d gotten rather excited to have an excuse to avoid my paperwork. I’ll even bathe in some of the purple paint, if it’ll make Spiderdeath respect your pranks, which are still absolutely terrible, by the way.”

“No purple paint necessary, but I do know the best spot in the night market for a good pasty, if you’re interested.”

Evin was nodding vigorously as he opened the door before he was promptly doused by several gallons of bright lavender paint. Miri groaned, realizing that her Riders must have rigged the buckets to the door and left for their own evening in the city.

Evin, though, was still smiling. “I’d still love a pasty, if you don’t mind the color,” he commented, holding a dripping arm out to her while he used the other hand to wipe his face.

Miri spared a moment’s thought for her clothes--she did like this shirt--but swallowed it as she took the offered arm and linked her elbow in his. After all, he seemed like he needed the night out.

#carrie answers #tortall #tamora pierce #the immortals #evin larse #miri fisher #my writing #anonymous #y'all i'm so sorry this is the longest one yet #and we have not proofread we die on our continuity and tense errors like men #(or women #as the case may be) #anyway hope this was vaguely in character guess who hasn't read the immortals quartet in years #also #in case you could not tell #this was TEN THOUSAND percent inspired by ben wyatt human disaster