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kopilot-pop · 2 years ago

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[Tired] pt.1

- Le Sserafim x 6thMember!Reader

Summary: After a harsh criticism from one of your teachers, you started to fall into a bad habit again. You started staying overnight at the company, your knees are always bruised, and you probably shouldn’t have 3 cans of Redbull everyday… Thankfully, your bandmates have easily recognized your behaviors and decided to put it to an end.

Warnings: overworking, self-hate, etc.

a/n: I think I’m a bit too obsessed with hurtfics lmao. I mostly wrote this as just a platonic relationship fyi.

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Nauseous.

That’s how you feel right now.

Sitting in front of you is the dance teacher, with her legs crossed and tapping her clipboard. This wasn't the first time, actually, this is the third time you were put in this situation this week.

You’re the main dancer of the group, so the teacher always put extra pressure on you compared to the other girls, but today she seemed extra fed-up with you.

Thus, here you were, dragged out to an old practice room in the middle of a session with your whole group.

“That’s it?” She sighed.

“That’s all you can do? Really? Did you even notice all the mistakes you’ve made? Listen, Y/n-”

There’s not much you can do. You’re well aware of the steps you missed and you’re also well aware of how talented the woman sitting in front of you is, too. That doesn’t change the fact that every word that comes out of her mouth feels like a stab wound.

“I don’t care how talented you think you are-“

‘I don’t think I’m talented.’

“Did you even practice at all? This is a special stage L/n Y/n-"

‘You watched me practice every day.’

“Are you trying to be an embarrassment on live tv?”

‘I’m trying my best not to.’

“Main dancer my ass, a trainee could do better than you-”

‘You just came back from yelling at them…’

“Are you not even embarrassed to stand next to your group? I mean, if I’m being honest here Kazuha-”

‘Ah, there it is.’

If there was anything this teacher was know for, it’s the constant comparing and belittling between teammates. You thought you might have gotten used to it by now, but that hit your throat.

You don’t have anything against your teammates - goddamit, you’d risk your life in a second for any of them. But, whenever she decided to use the girls to bring you down, it hurt just a little more than usual.

After several minutes of the teacher’s lecture, you were finally let go.

When you entered the practice room the girls were starting to pack up. You checked the clock and realised that it's almost midnight. Eunchae is curled up against the wall, wearing your jacket, while Sakura is trying her best to wake her up. Your leader noticed you immediately and walked up to you in worry.

"Hey Y/n, everything okay?"

"...Yeah. It's nothing."

Her deep frown made you sick to the stomach. You don't want her to worry- you don't want any of the members to worry. This is something you can deal with yourself, right? If you get better everything will be perfect. Just perfect.

"I was thinking of staying a bit more. Y'know, the teacher had me held up for quite while." You let out a tired chuckle.

Chaewon didn't like the idea at all and you could tell.

"I... fine. Just make sure you to keep contact, okay?"

"Of course."

"Huh- is Y/n not coming with us??" Yunjin with her tired body dragged herself towards the two of you. She gives you a tired hug and leaves for the car.

"Don't take too long Y/n." Sakura gives you a worried smile after helping Kazuha carry a sleepy Eunchae on her back.

"Yeah, I promise."

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You're an amazing liar.

That's what Chaewon realized while staring at the sun slowly coming up from the skyline.

As the leader, she stayed up late waiting for you to come home. A worried Yunjin insisted on waiting with her, but unfortunately she fell asleep after a bit on the couch.

Chaewon called you 50 times and messaged you a 100 times, but you haven't responded to a single one of them. She was pissed off at first, but that anger slowly dissolved into worry- all sorts of concerns popping up in her head.

'What if you passed out? What if you got hurt while practicing? You sprained your ankle in the past, what if the same thing happened again? Oh, what if your trainee habits are happening again? What if-'

Her train of thoughts stopped when she heard the door lock beep. She practically sped to the front door.

You sent her a nervous look, frozen while trying to take of your shoes.

"..."

"Hey unnie.."

"Do you know what time it is?"

Chaewon folded her arms and glared you down. She started her usual lecture. How worried she was, how disappointed, and how absolutely furious she is because of you ignoring all her efforts to contact you. She was absolutely furious.

"Didn't Kkura unnie tell you to not take long? Didn't I tell you to answer my calls?? It's 7 in the morning Y/n! You're telling me you were in the practice room for, what- 6 hours?! Do you realize how dangerous-!"

"YES! Yes, I know! And I'm sorry. Just... please... can we talk about this later?"

Chaewon looked at the bags under your eyes and let out a sigh.

"..Fine... Go get some rest.... This isn't over."

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A/N: I know this isn't the best place to cut, but like... I'm extremely tired. So sorry. I'll come back with a second part soon. Love y'all <3

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slowpoke-fics · 4 years ago

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The Good Doctor

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Summary: You're the doctor in Alexandria and Negan comes on a supply trip, taking something that doesn't belong to him

Warnings: depression, death, mentions of off self, gets a little triggering, I know I'm missing some, Negan is off character, nothing is exactly right in this, it's writing for writings sake

A/N: This is my first fic in years please forgive me for mistakes, it's just me in this operation, probably gonna be a whole series, here is part two!

May 20th

Negan's trucks roll into Alexandria again, loudly pushing past the gate and up to the medical center. Your insides start to rumble at the nervousness you have to see the ruthless man who knows no bounds. You reluctantly step outside and wait for him at your door, not doing well at hiding your displeasure of the loss of supplies.

When Negan and his men get out of their loading trucks, Negan shoots you his oh so dangerous smile before directing his men to their collections, keeping two of his men with him, he finally approaches you. "Well good fuckin' morning Dr. Y/L/N," he holds the door open for you, "after you, doll."

You moved past him, smiling at him, and walked to the stockpile of medication you had collected yourself helping Daryl on runs. "Please, only take what you are owed." Negan's men glared at you viciously, "We will take whatever we damn well please." Negan turned to face his men, "Now, we have a peaceful agreement here with the nice fuckin' doctor, get the supplies n lets go." You smiled at him, "Thank you for keeping your end of the bargain." Negan nodded, "I may be a fuckin' prick, but I am a man of my fuckin' word, ain't that all that fuckin' matters nowadays?" You nodded, waiting in silence for the men to complete their tasks.

After the men went through the supplies that laid before them, they pulled Negan to the side, obviously keeping their conversation private, one of them turning to you and flashing you a gut wrenching smile, you leaned on the gurney, waiting for the problem. Negan turned to you, scratching his chin, laughing lightly, "See doc, my men seem to really think that you've tried to short us this week," your eyes went wide, remembering what happened to the last person that tried to short Negan and his group, "I know you wouldn't fuckin' do that so can you just clear this shit up for us."

Scanning over the pages in front of you, "No," you cleared your throat, "I'm not short, its all documented here," you handed Negan the clipboard. As he scans over it, looking at your logs for every pill that comes in and out of this faux medical center, every date and name, the two men he placed with him rips your bag from your shoulders, dumping it out on the table, displaying the contents. Negan glances up, taking in the items on the table; a knife, a ripped up pack of spearmint bubble gum, a few pens, a small first aid kit, a few hair ties, stray items and a small leather bound notebook.

Negan slams the clipboard down, smiling at you, "I'll be damned she's fuckin' right boys, pack it up, it's all in the goddamned charts." You let out a breath of relief, a little worried to be Negan's next lesson. One of the men came close to you, pushing you backwards toward the gurney, "Don't test me bitch," backing away while still staring at you, he picked up your knife and waved it at you, "mine now, doll." The nickname reverberated evil inside you, at least when Negan did it, it felt at least flattering, but this man dripped poison from his words. At that though, Negan perked up, "Come on, shithead we've got things to do." You panicked, "No!" They all turned to you, "You cannot have my fucking knife," you backed up a little when the man stared you down, "please, it means a lot to me." The man started to say something, obviously furious you would even try ordering him, but Negan stopped him, taking the knife and handing it to you. The man he took the knife from grumbled and picked up your pack of gum, "Fuck you, keep your knife bitch, I'll take something sweet." Flashing you his smile, Negan was gone.

As you watched his trucks leave Alexandria, you finally returned to your work, cleaning up the mess his hooligans had made. Straightening the bottles, subtracting inventory, picking up your bag and sighing at the small amount of happiness you had as you realized that was the last pack of gum that you could find in a 50 mile radius. As you were putting away everything on the table, you started to move frantically looking for your notebook, under the table, around the table, even been looking all over the room. You couldn't find it. Your coping mechanism for the world moving at a pace that you just couldn't handle. A sense of dread washed over you as you realized, Negan.

He just couldn't help himself, just has to know what makes the good doctor fuckin' tick. Now, he just happens to have an all access pass to your thoughts in the zombie apocalypse. Humming to himself and relaxing into his seat, he peeled the book back at the marker for your most recent entry, picked a random nearby page and began reading.

April 23rd

celebrating yet another round of people. at some point I hit my limit, just can't keep meeting and greeting. feels pointless, I never see half of them, and when I do they normally die in my clinic. is this what it's become? death after death? mercy after mercy?

April 30th

every time someone dies in my clinic and I slide a knife through their skull it just reminds me this is how it will end for us all. we'll all just be the walking dead in the end. when's my turn? when do I get to finally stop running this rat race and throw in my damn towel? everyone else gets to say goodbye seems fair

Goddamn, Negan thought to himself, there's an entry here for every fuckin' day. He readjusted, taking in where they were at and how long he had to read for now, planning to figure out how you worked. No shame in wanting the pretty doctor.

May 4th

so fucking stupid, absolutely incompetent, couldn't even find antibiotics. couldn't find any gauze or even disinfectant. what a waste of gas, we're beginning to pick clean every building, car and trash can in a 50 mile radius. how long do we have left with the saviors breathing down our neck

May 12th

found some supplies, couldn't find enough, not enough, people treat the medicine like it's never ending but I just can't keep up there's nothing left, there has to be something that I can do, has to be something out there for me to find, it can't just be all gone, I'm not thinking of something, there is something out there I just have to be fucking smart enough to find it

May 15th

risk is worth the reward, I finally found some more antibiotics, and hit the fucking jackpot, found some chewing gum, melted Twix for Judith, and a knife for henry after I lost his in that horde, indescribable emotion when I had that first piece of gum that reminded me of how it used to be, when I was surrounded by support and family, gotta make it last

May 16th

henry was carried in by rick and daryl. henry was conscious, talking, don't let me turn, he begged. rick said he fell from a third story window. daryl grabbed alcohol and gauze, rick grabbed the stitch kit while I cut open henrys shirt, glass, at least two dozen pieces, please be manageable. I grabbed the tweezers and pour alcohol on henry's chest, his screams. half an hour in, he's seizing, rick grab buccal midazolam, place it in his mouth, hold him still until it stops, wait for a beat, no beat, cpr, one hundred twenty seconds in, can't let him turn, wait for beat, no beat, knife.

had to be something more.

Negan shifted uncomfortably, this went on for at least ten pages, questioning every move you made, reliving putting down a good friend of yours, is this how you mourn?

May 17th

This is it. surrounded by death, my turn.

Fuckin' christ, Negan thought, now realizing that the good doctor is too fuckin' hard on herself. Realizing that you had your own horrible demons, and that this world is starting to get to you.

May 19th

Guess not.

Negan felt horrible for taking this, he felt like he had taken a piece of you, just trying to figure out which buttons to press to make you want him like everyone else, he definitely didn't expect this. He had to give it back, had to find a way to make it better, and he just might have a plan.

May 21st

You woke up feeling empty, just going through the motions, getting dressed, brushing out your hair, brush your teeth, quarter of a piece of gum- no. Walk to the clinic, not hungry today. You sat in your chair, clipboard on lap, staring at the door, waiting for your next victim to come through. After about two hours, you hear a few bikes pull into the gate and getting closer. Taking a peak out the window, you see Negan at your clinic doors with a relatively large backpack on, and the same two men he had with him yesterday, and an extra woman who you had never seen before.

Negan walked into your clinic, the woman standing at the door but not stepping in, and you couldn't do anything but get your knife out. "What the fuck are you doing back here?" You pointed the knife at him, not going to let him take anymore of your hard earned supplies. "You raided yesterday and stole from me! The kind of nerve a selfish prick like you-" Negan pulled out your book and an unopened pack of spearmint gum. You lowered your knife, looking at him like a confused puppy, and then jerked the book out of his hand, leaving the gum. "It's a fuckin' peace offering, doll," Negan held out the gum, but you didn't take it, just stared at him. "I don't want it, you don't get to take all of our lessening supplies and steal from me after I've been nothing but honest trying to keep our deal for no violence and then just come offering a pack of gum your henchmen stole from me! I worked for that! I worked for all of this! I was good to your men! I was good to you, Negan!" You started tearing up and turned away from him, mindlessly putting your journal back in your bag, sighing in great relief that it was returned to you.

"Doll, I didn't fuckin' mean to upset you, I didn't fuckin' know what it was-" Negan stepped closer, setting the bag he carried on your table, "it's not the only peace offering, I've got two more." He sat the gum next to the pack and took your place in the chair, spinning around. You emptied the pack, meds, gauze, a Twix bar, and a few cases of extra supplies. You immediately turned to him, eyebrows raised, "What's the fucking catch? Nobody gets anything from you without a catch." Negan smiled, scratching through his beard, that trouble causing smile, "You gotta come back with me." You scoffed, gawked at that. "Are you serious? You want me to come back with you, with the saviors? Why? That's not even possible, I-I'm needed here, I'm the only one whose been studying the medical books, only one that can tell their ass from their end, that's just stupid-" Negan stands and points to the woman at your door. "Cue the next fuckin' offering, Amelia. She knows what she's fuckin' doing, she's a good one and fuckin' despises my fine ass, so I know that your fuckin' people are in good hands. You only gotta come for a week, just a fuckin' week."

You sighed, not sure what to do, but only had seconds to figure it out, "Okay," you moved closer to him, "on two conditions." Negan smiled, turned on by your big balls of courage to demand something from the man who mercilessly beat the shit out of people with a barbed wire bat. "I have today to train her on how to keep things in order while I'm gone, and next week, you leave Alexandria alone, and no taking extra in two weeks, we get to keep our extra supplies for next week." Negan scoffed, unbelievable that you'd demand that, he's gotta run his own group, "Are you fuckin' joking sweetheart?" You laughed, packing up the supplies and giving the bag of supplies back to him, "No, I am not," you pulled back and crossed your arms, "so how bad do you want me, Negan?"

#the walking dead fanfiction #twd fandom #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #negan x reader #negan x you #rick x you #rick x reader #twd negan #negan fic #negan x y/n #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #negan fluff #negan angst #tw fanfic #tw fanfiction

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morizoras-cave · 5 years ago

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Alley (Request)

James Mcavoy x gn!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: hello! alternatively, could you please write a James McAvoy x teen!costar!reader where after an interview, the reader leaves backstage to an alley to receive a call. before she can enter the building, she is stopped by a an older man who are being super creepy and whatnot. James, wondering where the reader is, goes to the alley and seeing what is happening, becomes really mad and protective over the reader. thank you!

Warnings: pedophilia, sexual assault, attempted r*pe, creepy dude, creepy remarks, language, violence

(A/N): this is a very heavy and sad fic. if you have experienced something in the realm of r*pe, i highly encourage you to reach out and talk about it

“Stop laughing, you idiot!” James wheezed, the two of you clucking with laughter. Whoever had put the two of you together for the press tour had made an embarrassingly large mistake. You were pretty sure you hadn’t answered a single question.

“I-I can’t!” you were crying now, falling back in your seat and clutching your stomach. Even the people behind the cameras couldn’t hold back their smiles and light chuckles.

“Alright, lunch break!” Your publicist called rather bitterly. She was horribly overworked, trying desperately to get you and James to get a hold of yourselves.

You and James stilled your laughs, finally, for fuck’s sake.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You took it out and sighed, seeing your sister’s name displayed on screen.

“In a moment,” you responded and James nodded, disappearing into the break room. Meanwhile you clicked to pick up your phone.

“Y/n!” your sister hissed.

“Yeah?” you asked, bemused.

“You’ll never guess what- Wait, are you alone right now?”

You looked around. There were at least 8 people still in the room. “No,” you mumbled.

“Find somewhere empty!”

“Why?”

“Because this is embarrassing, and I cannot have some randos listening in!” Your sister urged and you pinched the bridge of your nose, considering just hanging up and dealing with repercussions. Finally you gathered enough will to go ‘okay, fine’, and then you left the interview room.

You entered a hallway, that, sadly, contained more people. You poked your head in through several doors, but none were empty.

“Are you alone yet?”

“No!”

You finally gave up on the building itself and exited, pleased to see a dark and shadowy, but empty alley. You sighed in relief.

“Alright, I’m alone.”

“Great, alright, so-”

Your sister told her story with much enthusiasm, and you had to admit it was both pretty funny and embarrassing for your sister. It was worth it to have entered the alley, you decided, when she was finished.

“Alright, I’ll see you later, Y/n. Have fun!”

“Thanks, bye!”

You hung up. Your stomach growled and you groaned, realizing the extent of your hunger. Taking a few steps forward to leave the alley, you suddenly bumped into someone. You looked up in shock.

An old man, maybe 50 or so, was standing there, smiling at you knowingly. Just as you were about to apologize, he spoke: “You’re a pretty little one, aren’t you?”

You were stunned. “Uh-”

“What do you say you and I have some fun?” his voice was low and wet and raspy. He licked his lips. You gulped and shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak confidently.

You ducked your head, trying to simply walk past him and avoid an uncomfortable situation. The man reached out and grabbed your arm, swinging you back to face him, angrily. You yelped.

“You don’t get to just walk away, now, baby,” you were so scared, you were shaking, your eyes were rimming with tears, and your heart was pounding. Alarms were blaring in your head. You were revolted by him and his hand on your arm.

“I said, let’s have some fun,” he spat and reached his hand up to touch your cheek. He chuckled dryly when a tear escaped your eye. You shook your head, whispering a ‘no’.

The man pushed you up against the brick wall. A switch flipped inside you, and you did the only thing you could think of: Scream.

Meanwhile, James was starting to wonder where you were. He was sitting alone at lunch, chewing sadly on his salad.

He decided to find you, knowing you were always the most excited about lunch (or any meal for that matter), and that it was highly unlikely you would let a phone call keep you away from your precious calories.

“Y/N?” he called, walking through the interviewing room and into the hallway. “Y/n?”

“Oh, Y/n L/n? They went outside,” a man with a clipboard said, pointing to a heavy, grey door. James nodded a thank you, pushing through the door.

He came out, sun shining on his face, and birds chirping sweetly, just in time to hear your ear-piercing scream.

Admittedly, it was a very scary sound. James’ first thought was not that it was you, just a poor woman in a bad situation (and of course he would help). You and James had a mostly silly and funny friendship. There were very few moments of sincerity and seriousness between you, so the thought that it could be you, your petrified scream, was impossible. Because you were you. Y/n.

But it was you. James was frozen for a moment. You were pressed between the old man and the brick wall, thrashing and crying, but the man was much stronger than you. He brought a wrinkly, disgusting hand over your mouth and whispered breathlessly: “Shut up, you stupid whore.”

James didn’t think, like he so rarely did when upset, rather strolled up to the man and, mutely, sucker-punched the creep right in the mug.

The old man stumbled back, grasping his face and groaning. James was seeing red. His entire body was tensed, and then he took two quick steps, and the hit him again. The old man’s body jerked and he fell to the ground.

James lifted his fist to hit him again, when he felt a hand on his arm. Your hand. He turned to look at you, eyes softening when he saw your red, wetted eyes, and your features twisted into anguish.

No words were spoken between the two of you, you just simultaneously fell into a hug. You wanted to stay there, but you were shaking. You couldn’t feel safe when the man was on the ground right next to you, curled up like a shrimp.

You pulled back, glancing at the man. “C-Can we go?”

James nodded. He turned back to man once more, elegantly kicked him in the dick (another scream sounded, this time the man’s response to having his balls crushed), and the grabbed your hand and marched out of there.

You sniffled and, though entirely and irreversibly distraught, giggled at the action. James pulled open the grey door and pushed you both inside. The man with the clipboard was still there, clipboarding.

“Hey, call security, there’s a fucking rapist out there, he needs to be arrested,” James said and the clipboard man was not ready for this, eyes widening, looking at James, then you, then his clipboard and then the door. Then he nodded, like he was given a great and burdening task.

James pushed you further along, past all the questioning eyes (you were rather disheveled), and into the break room. His salad sat lonesomely on the dining table.

When you two were alone in the break room, he turned towards you and hugged you again, You hugged him back and allowed yourself fall apart. You cried and shook.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, N/n,” he whispered. It was only then he felt the severity of the situation dawn on him. “It’ll be alright. He’ll be arrested. You’re safe. Nothing like that will ever happen to you again.”

You nodded into his chest, sobbing. “T-Thank you, James.”

“It’s nothing. It’s nothing at all. I would do that a million times if it meant keeping you safe.”

You nodded again.

He held you for a few minutes. You felt safe there, but something inside you still felt so wrong.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” you whispered when you stopped crying. James looked at you like you were crazy.

“Y/n? Are you kidding me? That man just- He just- You have every right to cry. Every right to ‘be like this’, whatever that means. If you weren’t crying, I’d be more concerned!” He looked in your eyes as he spoke, hands gently on your shoulders.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, how about I bring you back to the hotel, so you can relax a bit,” James suggested gently. You nodded shyly, but then:

“Don’t I need to speak to the police?”

“You’ll speak to them, when you’re ready to. They can come find you at the hotel, alright?”

“Alright.”

James drove you back to the hotel and stayed with you while you dozed off. The police came during your slumber, and James asked them, quietly, if they could come back later, and that you really needed rest. They reluctantly agreed to wait outside.

It turned out the man was a serial rapist, finding young teens out alone at night and having his way with them. He’d apparently slipped through the law’s cracks by moving from state to state.

You could care less who he was and what he did. It was impossible to tell how you’d deal with it and how you’d move forward, you were just happy James had been there that day, and happy he stayed with you as you moved forward.

You knew that the road to being happy and healthy would be much tougher without him there. Luckily, James cared for you endlessly, and he’d search every alley in the world to make sure you were okay. :)

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Tag List:

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#james mcavoy x reader #james mcavoy x teen!reader #bill denbrough x reader #charles xavier x reader #x men x reader #x men cast x reader #it cast x reader #marvel cast x reader #mcu cast x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #split x reader

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kindofinprogress · 4 years ago

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What. A. Git.

Harry Potter fell in love at 18.

At least, that’s how old he was when he realized he was in love. He’d felt quite at home in this state so surely it must have happened when he wasn’t looking. Perhaps it happened when he was 16 and playing quidditch with her in the back garden of her home or later that year when an untamed amount of anger filled him at the sight of another boy near her in all the ways he’d wish he could be. Maybe it happened after their historic first kiss in front of 50 of their peers or the subsequent, equally as historic (although much more private), “walk” after said kiss. Maybe it was later, when he was 17, sometime in the nine grueling months he had to spend away from her- where all he could do was try and not think about how much he missed her. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that, right? Or, it could have happened the second, the very mind-clouding moment, that he got to hold her in his arms again after those nine months and the battle that ended the war in which he lost so much. But not her. She managed to come out on the other side and he couldn’t thank enough deities about it if he tried.

Whenever it was- he was sure he was fully, irrevocably, assuredly, enduringly, and all of the other painfully cliche words one could come up with, in love exactly one month after she left on a train for her last year of schooling.

Harry Potter was pitiful. That’s the word that Ron used, anyway. Well, if not being able to stand missing Ginny, his Ginny after the longest, grueling month of his life then that was fine. Alright, perhaps it was possible he’d had worse months so maybe he could tone down the dramatics. But, Harry rationalized, last year he had countless “worst” months- one right after the other in what at the time seemed like an endless string. And even back then he would have given up the world to be able to drop everything and get one good look at her. And he could do that now- quite easily and with a lot less at stake.

Read on AO3

It was after dinner at the Burrow where Harry sat in a room eating a delicious plate made by a stern and loving woman who’s laugh and annoyed tuts reminded him of his Ginny, sat next to a man with his Ginny’s wonderful curiosity, and surrounded by her brothers who had a mischievous edge to their jokes which only his Ginny could rival that he decided he would do just that. Drop everything and go see her- no matter how pathetic that made him in the eyes of his best mate.

Dinner was a more quiet affair these days. Spirits had livened up just enough at the end of September to where everyone could joke and ask each other about their days with genuine interest because they didn’t always end up back at sorrow-filled points but not enough that not at least one persons’ eyes welled up with tears by the end of the night. Or that someone had to excuse themselves when they almost mentioned Fred. But tonight, it wasn’t the collective longing for Fred to fill his seat at the dinner table or the mention of Teddy and the painful reminder that a 60-year-old woman and an 18-year-old man were now his main caretakers rather than his young and kind parents that created a knot in Harry’s throat. It was the mention of Ginny and the oh-how-busy-she-must-be fussing over her too-short letters home and her oh-so-important exams at the end of the year. After she came up Harry was in no mood to answer questions about his training, or if he and Ron would want the leftovers from tonights’ dinner, or to stay ‘round for after dinner drinks with the boys. Harry did stay, not from a lack of trying to leave though. Ron practically plucked him out of the floo and forced an ale into his palm. “Lighten up, we’ll see them at the end of October in Hogsmeade. No need to let a few miles soil our night.”

So, fine. Harry stayed and sulked over exactly one drink. He bid the clan of red-headed brothers goodnight while Ron went to the loo. Harry got home, put on his pajamas, washed his face and wrote a quick note to Ginny to meet him in the Shrieking Shack on the following night- October first. It was a Thursday and Harry figured it was too early in the year for any professors to be dishing out detentions to a castle full of grieving students and it wasn’t a special feast that night so the only thing that might get in his way would be Hermione’s time table.

The next morning, after about 5 more “you’re absolutely pitiful”’s from Ron, and a detailed description of exactly what he was to tell their training Auror his excuse for skiving off in the middle of a work week Harry set off for Hogwarts.

He arrived in town with enough time to stop by the Hog’s Head and grab dinner at the dusty bar and a quick conversation with the aloof Aberforth. The night’s air was well chilly as he made his way to the old, creaking shack and it wasn’t much better from inside. Harry made quick work to try and warm the place up with some charms but only managed to make it bearably stuffy before the door from the secret passage swung wide open and a red blur launched into his chest. Harry took in her flowery scent and dug his fingers into her hips bringing her as close as possible to him. Ginny looked up and met his eyes and Harry couldn’t help but bring his mouth to hers. The kiss was simple and all-consuming. It made his mind swirl. When he finally broke it and got a good look at her face he couldn’t help the soppy grin that overtook his features. It was so easy to let the world melt away and feel so happy with his Ginny around.

“Hey, you. You didn't just come all the way here to stare at me all night did you? We have pictures for that sort of thing you know.”

“Sorry.” He blurted. “No, that’s not what I came for. But it is quite fun. Be quiet and give me about another minute, would you?”

“Harry!” She giggled and swat at his arm. She leaned in and gave him a quick peck before untangling herself from him. “Why did you come? Is everything alright?” Her expression softened with concern in a way that made her look so absolutely endearing Harry swept her up and rightfully snogged her. When they broke apart, panting and out of breath minutes later he apologized again. “Sorry- couldn’t help it.”

He gave her a sheepish smile suddenly feeling just as pathetic as Ron had painted him to be. “I just. Er- I missed you. Is all. And I- I just wanted to see you. Is that okay? I’m sorry, you didn’t have anything important going on did you? Practice? I don’t even bloody know when you practice and I just made you drop everything because I’m a pathetic sop. I’m sor-”

Ginny shut him up with one of those small pecks that took his breath and all coherent thoughts away. “You silly man. Of course it’s alright, Harry. It’s more than alright. I’ve missed you too. I do have to admit you made me nervous with that note. It didn’t say anything!”

“Oh, bugger. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it freaked Hermione out enough to let me off the hook from studying with her tonight. We’ve been going over the same bloody chapter all week, Harry! I know you warned me but Godric, Hermione is boring me to tears and I think she’s enjoying it!”

Harry laughed and they exchanged another small moment of pure bliss. She had a way of doing that, Harry noticed. Filling a moment with everything. Filling him to the brim with happiness in the most minute ways. In that moment Harry wondered if that’s what his father felt for his mother. Later, Harry would reason with himself that James must have- for if anything was worth falling in love and marrying a girl straight out of school in the middle of a war that that feeling -this feeling- must have been in.

“Please, do carry on about your wild school year full of studying and classes.”

“Oh, only if you promise to drone on about your stuffy old coworkers and shoes that pinch your toes.”

“Hey, I’m serious! I want to know everything. I know you don’t put it all in your letters. I can tell your hand gets cramped when your writing gets all crooked and starts leaning on its side- which happens in every letter so I know you haven’t included everything you’ve wanted to.”

So Ginny spent the next half hour telling Harry about everything she felt was too little to write in her letters. Truthfully, she thought they were too little to be mentioning now when they had such a short time together but he truly seemed to be enjoying the conversation so she kept on only so he would keep looking at her like that. Like she was enchanting and everything. Ginny got the sudden courage to do something she’d been terrified of for weeks. “I had my career meeting with McGonagall my first week.” Harry searched deep in his brain for something to say to that- try as he might he couldn’t think of any specifics to ask- surely she’d mentioned this to him before. It was one of the most important meetings 5th, 6th, and 7th years had yearly and Ginny must’ve- “I didn’t mention it before because what we talked about just kind of happened. I just blurted it out without meaning to and she encouraged me, Harry. Me! She really thinks I’m capable of it.” Ginny let anticipation hang in the air for a second- reveling in the way she had Harry’s undivided attention. “She’s getting scouts from all over to come watch me play! I’m going to play quidditch professionally, Harry! Well, maybe. I have to be impressive enough for them to actually offer anything but-”

“You’re going to be amazing, Gin. Those scouts won’t know what hit them.”

“Oh, Harry. I knew I was right to wait to tell you before anyone else.”

Harry’s heart swelled with pride. He felt like he’d won a prize at that. It was in that moment that Harry realized he needed this for the rest of his life. To be the first one she shared good news with, to never miss out on being her biggest supporter, to get to watch her smile like this. To be around for all things Ginny Weasley.

It was ridiculous, then, the thought that before this visit he hadn’t known he was in love with her. She was Ginny Weasley. Beautiful Ginny who had boys falling at her feet, kind Ginny who took care of everyone she came in contact with, brilliant Ginny who was quick as a whip, brave Ginny who fought in a war at age 16 and faced much darker still at age 11- his Ginny. His talented, talented Ginny who was going to be a professional athlete. How cool was that? She was so cool and brave- his Ginny. Just looking at her now, talking a mile a minute, blushing at the confession that she’d been worried about her family’s reaction to her decision- about his reaction, eliciting confidence- he knew he was head over heels in love. She deserved the world and Harry would do anything to be the one to personally hand it to her.

Harry spent a while celebrating with Ginny and reluctantly left her to go to bed -way past her curfew- after about her tenth yawn. With promises to write and see each other soon Harry left on his way home feeling much lighter than he had in weeks.

Harry had always thought when he felt love for the first time it would be a bit more climactic than this. But strangely, this felt much better than any notion of falling in love he’d built up in his head. This was easy… natural. Nothing dramatic or flashy just… just the sheer act of being with Ginny was enough. And he was so fine with that.

It wasn’t until much later- in the early hours of the morning when Harry was finally crawling into bed that he realized he hadn’t even told her he loved her. What. A. Git.

#hinny fluff #hinny #harry x ginny

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pansyslut · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! I have a request for draco x reader oneshot. Can you please make a really angsty one based on your prompt list number 26 and 50? A happy ending would be amazing! Thank you very much!

when i needed you most

draco x reader

a/n : yayyy another request !! here you gooo i hope you like it i really enjoyed writing this one. the prompts went together really well

prompt list

prompt #26 - “you are my everything”

prompt #50 - “everyone else was there, but it was you who i needed the most. and you weren’t here.”

summary : y/n struggles after having a miscarriage. instead of draco being by her side for comfort, no one knows where he is. angst & fluffy ending.

it had been less than twenty four hours since you had returned home. they kept you in the hospital for a couple days after your miscarriage. you spent most of the time crying silent tears, having worried friends in and out of your room, nurses constantly checking on you.

you were glad to be home. when you were at the hospital many of you and dracos friends had come to visit and check up on you. it had grown suffocating. you knew it was only coming from a place of love but you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to be alone.

when you found out you were being released that night you had muttered “thank merlin” and draco had nodded his head. you both needed the hell out of there. away from the people and the environment. you both craved the comfort of your own home.

when you got home, draco had made you soup while you were put on bed rest. you weren’t complaining though because everytime you moved it felt like a elephant was sitting on your uterus.

you and draco hadn’t spoken much, both of you processing and coping your own ways. part of you craved the feeling of your husbands arms but he stayed stiffly on his side of the bed. deciding not to disturb him, you eventually fell asleep as well.

waking up was the worst part so far. the pain was unbearable as the medicine they have given you now completely worn off. you lay there, stiff as you reach your arm across the bed to only feel cold sheets.

“draco?” you call out loud enough for him to hear you throughout the house.

after a few seconds you realize you are alone. you find yourself in the room alone with your mind running wild. how would you be able to do anything let alone sit up? you decide to call your friend, luna.

as soon as you had gotten on the phone with her she was happy to help. saying she would bring healing remedies and help you with whatever you needed.

eventually, you will yourself up to go to the bathroom. looking in the mirror realizing what a mess you look. hearing a soft knock, luna let’s herself into your room.

“y/n, thank merlin. i knocked on your door and no one answered- i hope it’s alright i let myself in. i brought you things that might help.” she says holding up a basket. “i’ve read up on this quite a lot, i’m glad you called me. meet me downstairs when you’re ready and if you need help give me a shout.” she says and heads her way downstairs.

luna stays for a couple hours, tending to your every need. she made you biscuits and tea and gave you some medicine that helped tremendously. it still hurt but now you were able to move on your own.

harry and hermione had also made a brief appearance. they kept you company and made you food which was short lived due to their busy schedules.

it was now half past six and draco still isn’t here. you had called him three times and texted him but haven’t gotten a single reply. you think he would care. you think he would care that his wife just lost his child. but instead he’s ignoring me and out doing god knows what.

making your way upstairs, you get into one of dracos shirts and lay in bed. your mind runs wild to the places he could be. to the excuse he would come up with when he gets home.

without realizing, you had begun crying, tears streaming down your face. you only noticed when they hit the pillow in front of you. glancing at the mirror on the wall beside you, you stare at your red puffy eyes and swollen cheeks.

you know the doctor has said time and time again that it wasnt your fault but you couldn’t help but feel otherwise. he said it was very much possible i wouldn’t be able to carry a baby ever again. the one thing women are out on earth to do, my body is incapable of doing.

as you lay clutching dracos pillow, you hear the front door unlock. you hear the footsteps making way through the house. but continue to lay there with your face shoved in the pillow.

i cant let him see me like this. if he’s so unaffected by this then i need to be too.

you hear a soft knock on the door as draco announces himself. “baby?” he steps closer to the bed and sits next to you. “i’m sorry i’ve been gone all day.”

here it is. the excuse you’ve been pondering about all day. you know it’s not work because he already had the week off. what could possibly be more important than this?

he sets a hand on your shoulder but you shove it off. lifting your face from the pillow, he’s finally able to get a decent look at you for the first time. he’s sees the dry tear stains on your face and sits there wide eyed.

“you don’t get to apologize. luna was here earlier and brought me medicine, hermione was here earlier and made me lunch- even bloody harry was here. everyone else was there, but it was you who i needed the most. and you weren’t here.”

he sat there once again not saying a word. “do you really have nothing to say? you left me. your wife. the woman who would have been the mother of your child. do you even care? i sat here crying for hours without the most important person by my side. you are the only person i needed and where were you?” you said getting closer to his face. “huh, what’s your excuse?” you nudged him roughly as your anger rises.

draco stars silently as tears build up in his eyes. you stare back at him in shock. not once had you ever seen draco cry- or even close to it.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so bloody sorry. i-” he stops to collect himself and lifts up from the bed starting to pace, “i thought you would want to be alone. i thought- i thought that’s what you wanted.” he said once more. “i thought that’s what you wanted.”

he’s now facing away from you, staring outside the window as rain drops slowly fall. you crawl to the other side of the bed so you are sitting behind him.

he continues softly, “i went to the store. i got you more ingredients for soup- i noticed yesterday how hard it was for you to eat. i figured that would help. and- and i got you flowers. and i visited some small shop in town with hundreds or medicines. they gave me everything we would need.”

you grad his hand and he turns to face you. grabbing your face, he whispers “you are my everything. please, i am begging you to forgive me.” he says and gets on his knees in front of you and lays his head in your hands. “i’m so unbelievably sorry.”

what an asshole, you thought to yourself. i sat here thinking he was being anything but pure. of course he was being his sweet self. how stupid.

you lay your head on top of his, peppering delicate kisses at the crown of his head. “you have nothing to apologize for, dray. i should have known. i should have trusted you. it’s just that- that you weren’t answering your phone and i- i’m sorry too.”

he lifts up from your hands and sits next to you. you sit there, holding each other, hearing nothing but his soft sniffles and the rain hitting the window.

suddenly he collects you in his arms and starts making his way out the room. laughing you struggle to get words out, “draco what the hell are you doing?”

he gets downstairs and sets you on the kitchen counter. you see your favorite flowers in the vase surrounded by your favorite snacks.

he scurries around, trying to prepare the both of you dinner as you watch him closely. he sets a glass of wine next to you and drops and kiss on your forehead as he continues to busy himself with the ingredients.

although neither of you weren’t even close to healed, you knew that that you would be okay. as long as you had each other everything was going to be just fine.

#draco fluff #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #harry potter #draco angst

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noladyme · 5 years ago

Text

Chess. Chapter 4

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: violence, blood, language

I was taken to a shower room. With no other exit than the door we came in through, it seemed the Tweedles felt it would be safe enough to leave me alone in there.

I showered for an eternity. The water was hardly warm, and it smelled moldy in the room, but I didn’t care. I let the water run over me, scrubbed every inch of my body with a bar of soap on a string. I ran my hand down my injured ribs, and winced at the pain. Remembering Flags hand touching that same spot but an hour before, I smiled to myself. His touch then had been gentle, and my mind wandered into a more pleasant direction. A bang on the door interrupted my train of thought.

“Finish up!”, a voice called. I turned off the water.

A clean set of clothes had been laid out. Another tank top, this one not cut into pieces, a clean set of underwear, and a pair of orange pants, with much too long legs for me. I folded them up, to right bellow my knees, and finally put on the slip-on shoes that completed the outfit.

Calling out, I let the twins know I was ready.

After eating the mac’n’cheese and jello that was pushed through the hatch in the door, I slept deeper than I ever had, on the small cot that had appeared in my cell, while I was being questioned – or recruited, I wasn’t sure which it was. The last thing I saw before drifting of, was loose wire hanging from the corner of the ceiling, where the thermal camera had once been. I wasn’t being watched anymore.

---

I woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked; I sprang up from where I had been laying, fully awake, and on high alert. Two guards stepped in to the room. Not Flags men.

What the fuck is this?, I panicked, and took a stance, preparing for a fight.

Grabbing me by the wrists, they spun me around, locking my arms behind me. They held me like this, as Griggs stepped into the room, and looked me up and down.

“You look even better clean, puss”, he leered at me.

I lifted my knee, and stomped down onto the foot of the guard to my right. Letting go of my arm, he yelped; and I swung my arm, punching Griggs in the face.

Covering his mouth with a scream, he then slapped me hard, making my ears ring.

“You goddamn bitch”, he said, blood running from his busted lip. I laughed at him; and made to get another hit in, when the second guard holding me, kicked me behind my knee; making me lose balance, and topple over.

Laying face down on the ground, someone put a knee on my back, holding me down, as my ankles and wrists were put in cuffs. Spewing all of the worst profanities I knew, I then twisted my neck, biting at the guard holding down my shoulders. I narrowly missed him, and another hand held my head down, making my forehead meet the concrete.

“Watch it, dumbass. We need her whole!”, Griggs spat. He pulled a sack over my head.

They carried me like this, down the corridor, as I screamed and cussed. This isn’t supposed to happen, I thought. Where’s Flag? Waller, even?.

I hadn’t officially accepted Wallers “offer” of joining her circus. Was this payback for my little stunt yesterday? Was I being sent back to Gotham? Or were they taking me somewhere to end my suffering.

A sharp pain in my ribs – from a boot, I figured – made me consider whether euthanasia wouldn’t be a kinder fate.

A door opening and closing behind us. The temperature changed. The air was damp, and the sack on my head stuck to my skin, making it difficult to breathe.

I heard the sound of a gate opening. “Freak transport”, Griggs voice called. Laughing.

Another door. I was made to stand, and my feet were uncuffed. I heard the sound of hip hop music. More musical torture? Metallic clanking, and I was pushed forward harshly, almost falling over.

“Get that shit of her”, Flags voice said. Thank God.

“Careful. This one has sharp teeth”, Griggs said; and someone pulled the sack of my head.

Blinking, adjusting to the light; I examined the room. About 100 yards deep, 50 yards wide. From the looks of it, an old indoor basketball court. My calculations turned out to be right, as a tall, dark man, wearing the same outfit as my own, was shooting hoops at the end of the room, never missing one throw. He turned in my direction, and looked at me, then Griggs busted lip, and laughed to himself.

In one corner a large figure, wearing a hoodie, sat with his back to me, watching BET on a small flat screen. In another, a man covered from head to toes in tattoos – I could tell, as he wasn’t wearing a shirt, or shoes – was doing pushups.

Flag walked up from behind me, staring me down.

“Welcome to the gym”. He took out a set of keys, and uncuffed my hands. “I can handle it from here”, he said to Griggs.

“Are you sure, sir? She seems cranky”, Griggs answered, and put his hand on the gun in his belt.

“I’m sure, asshole. If we need anything, I’ll let you know. Now get”.

“Dick”, Griggs muttered, and walked out the large door we had come through. The metallic sound started, and then made a last large clank, as it shut behind him and his guards.

Flag examined my face, and stroked his fingers across the small cuts on my forehead, from my former spat with the guards.

“You need to be careful, kitten. I won’t always be around; so if you piss them off again, I might not be able to help you”.

“You weren’t there to help me this time, and I made out fine on my own”, I retorted.

Flag moved his hand down to my belly, looking at the blood on my top, lightly touching it.

“I can see that”, he said, removed his hand, and continued. “You ripped your stitches”.

“I’m fine”, I pouted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our newest team member”, Flag called out. “Y/N Y/L/N. Also known as Chess”.

The man with the basketball, turned around, and made a final throw over his shoulder; and the ball went straight into the hoop, then bounced away across the floor.

The tattooed man stopped his workout, and walked towards us.

“Croc, did you hear me? Get your ass over here”, Flag shouted.

The large figure turned of his television, got up, and walked towards us, pulling the hood off his head. For a second, I was tempted to run, or even do something as embarrassing as hide behind Flag. The tall mans face was covered in what looked like scales; and it took me a hot second to realize that was his actual skin.

Killer Croc. I’d heard of him.

“Don’t worry, cher’. I ain’t gonna bite”, he growled at me; showing his terrifying teeth, in what I guess was supposed to be a smile. In spite of his appearance and reputation; I instantly felt calmer, from his use of the cher’ endearment. It reminded me of Sammy.

Sammy. “What happened to the owner of the club?”, I asked, voice shaking.

“He’s fine”, Flag answered. “I bumped him on the head a bit, when he tried to stop me from going after you. But I left a large tip for him. He’ll be able to make next months payment to whichever scumbag is using their protection scheme on him”.

I exhaled, relieved.

“And my cats?”, I remembered, panic returning.

“Your neighbor has them. Don’t worry”.

Good. Selina was sweet, though a bit kooky; and she seemed to love cats, more than even I did.

“All your loose ends are tied up, and as long as you behave, they’ll stay that way”.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You are using my cats to blackmail me?”, I asked.

“Yes”, he answered shortly, and smirked.

By now, the three men were gathered in front of me.

“Where the hell is Harley and Digger?”, Flag called.

“Harley had feminine things to do”, basketball guy answered, before being interrupted by a shrill voice.

“Flag! The british guy was watching me on the toilet again!”. A curvaceous but lean woman appeared in a doorway to my right. She was dragging the rugged looking unicorn man, by his ear; storming towards us.

“I’m Australian, you crazy bitch”, he yelped; and she yanked him by his ear to the ground, putting a foot on his neck.

“Whatever. Do it again, and I’ll punch you in your kangaroo pouch!”, the woman hissed, and kicked him in the chest, before walking over to us. Once she saw me, her face instantly went from murderous to gleeful, and she reached out her hand to greet me.

“Harley Quinn. Pleased to make your acquaintance”, she said; grabbing my hand, and pulling me in to a tight hug.

Surprised, I simply patted her back, and then pulled away.

“You smell nice”, she whispered in my ear, before stepping back to join the others.

I was suddenly terrified and ecstatic at once. The queen of Gotham. It was like meeting actual royalty; if that royalty was crazy as hell, and had access to weapons.

They stood there; a motley crew of deadly weirdos, smiling and/or grimacing at me.

“Diablo. Deadshot. Killer Croc. Harley Quinn. Captain Boomerang. This is Chess”.

Basketball mans – correction, Deadshots – eyes lit up.

“You’re the invisible girl”.

“That’s her”, Flag answered.

“Can you talk for yourself, mami?”, asked the tattooed man – Diablo.

“I always thought a woman should be seen and not heard”, said Digger.

I smiled, disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was back on the floor, wincing in pain, from my knee on his back. I leant towards his ear, still invisible.

“Are you sure about that?”, I purred, and dug my nails into the skin of his neck.

He yelped, turning around quickly; and I fell back, landing on my butt, before I sprang up, to stand next to Flag. Only then I made myself visible again.

Digger scrambled to get to his feet, and stepped towards me; a sneer on his face.

Flag stepped in front of me spreading his arms, as if protecting me. What is up with this guy?, I thought.

Deadshot stepped forward to face Digger, and Croc took a hold of his arms, holding him in place.

“Stay cool, man”, Deadshot said. “Looks like we’re going to be working with this lady now, so you need to back of”.

Digger settled down, but not before shooting me a look I couldn’t figure out whether was angry, or strangely aroused.

Flag turned to face me. “That wasn’t very smart”, he smiled.

“What? He has a mouth on him”, I answered.

“The last guy who used that sentence, lost his spot on this team in a pretty bad way. The spot you are now going to fill”. He went to stand next to me again, folding his arms across his torso.

“What happened to him?”, I asked.

“We don’t talk about it”, Harley pouted. “It was kind of gross. Speaking of which! Did you get yours yet?”. She sprang forward, putting her hand on my neck, as if searching for something.

“That’s the next step”, Flag said. He reached for his belt, and pulled out a strange looking gun.

None of the crew in front of me would look me in the eyes. Only Deadshot furrowed his brow, and kept eye contact with me; then pushing his lips into a thin line, before mouthing sorry.

Flag put the gun to my neck, and before I had time to react with anything more than a gasp, he pulled the trigger, and a sharp pain – there one second, gone the next – spread throughout the skin around the wound he’d made.

He let me go, lowered the gun, before meeting my eyes with a pained look. “It’s official”, he said, and put the gun into its holster.

I stood there. Mouth agape. Confused.

Deadshot stepped forward, patted my shoulder once, and then walked back towards the basketball.

“Welcome to the Suicide Squad”, he called out, made a shot, and the ball went into the hoop again.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r

@hyp-oh-critical

#rick flag imagine #rick flag fic #rick flag #rick flag x reader #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #deadshot #harley quinn

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scarlettwitcher · 5 years ago

Text

Úlfur Minn Part Three

Request: by @laneygthememequeen: Hello lovely! I just saw that youre open to requests and are itching to write something for soft boi geralt! If you’re open to it, can I request a geralt x reader where reader seems like super innocent but is like an actual warrior/badass and he’s just like in awe. Or maybe where the reader is in like a dress for some reason and she usually doesn’t wear dresses because they’re inconvenient for fighting and ends up having to fight in the dress. take care and I hope you have a wonderful day💖

Summary: After Jaskier is finally able to convince Geralt to be his bodyguard for Pavetta’s betrothal dinner, shit goes down and Geralt has to make the decision of whether or not he should tell Y/n how he really feels.

Characters: Geralt, Reader, Jaskier, Calanthe, Eist, Mousesack, Pavetta, Duny, mentions of secondary characters in the show.

Word Count: 3296

Warnings: Angst, violence, fighting, some kinda(?) graphic descriptions of fighting, mention of blood, cursing, fluff, canon typical warnings

Author’s Note: Part three!!! I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda sad this series is almost over! I really loved writing this. I’m thinking of writing more episode based series, with reader being integrated into the plot. I find it interesting! Thank you for all the love this series has been getting! As always, my requests are open. I’m currently in the progress of writing a couple, but am still open for more. My taglists are also open, so if you’d like to be tagged for any individual character, fandom, or be tagged in everything, just shoot me a message or an ask! Thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!

Also, show my girl @queenxxxsupreme lotta love. k.

Previously on Úlfur Minn...

“Lioness of Cintra, I come to claim what is rightfully mine! Pavetta. By the Law of Surprise.” Before anyone could speak more, more guards appeared and attacked Duny. He carried himself easily as he defeated the guards around him, slashing at them. But as more guards entered the room, he became overpowered and was hit roughly in the face. He fell and rolled onto his back as he stared up at the guard holding a large axe over his head. He panted as he stared up at the guard with fear as he dripped blood from his lips. You growled out in anger at the queen’s disregard for the man’s life. You ran and grabbed his discarded sword as you stood over Duny. “NO!” The guard swung the axe and you swung the sword at the same time, cutting it in half as the axe fell into Duny’s hands. You swung your sword again, slitting the guards throat. He looked at you and nodded, before getting up and looking at all of the guards that surrounded the both of you. Geralt growled in anger at you for putting yourself in such a compromising position. You looked over at him and shook your head, telling him it wasn't the moment for him to scold you. He made his way to your side, almost hovering over you.

“Kill them all!”

Now...

Everyone watched in horror as the three of you fought against the Cintran guards, the men falling in seconds. Geralt had to take a second to stop and watch as you battled against the guards. He was in complete awe at how smooth and quick your moves were. You had been traveling with the Witcher and the Bard for years but have never had to fight. Geralt always made sure you were never in a compromising situation. Since you were only the healer of the group, he never let you join him when he had to slay a monster as much as you bugged him to let you tag along. If he had known you could fight so swiftly, he still probably wouldn't have taken you but he at least wouldn't have worried so much when he left you with Jaskier, knowing the bard couldn't even defend himself for shit, much less protect you when need be.

One guard came running after you as he swung his sword at your chest. You ducked as he swung and used your sword to slash his knee, blood splattering on the floor. The guard screamed in pain as you kicked him in the face hard, knocking him over. As soon as you regained your footing, you tripped over your dress. You were having a rough time with the dress you were wearing. You growled out and cut two very large slits in front of both of your legs. You didn't care that every movement caused your skin to be exposed, your legs visible to everyone around you all the way up to your hip. You had never been so exposed in your life to any but you didn't care. You we're fighting for what was right and you could worry about being embarrassed later. Geralt watched you with wide eyes and was distracted by your beautiful body and almost didn't see the guard sneaking up behind him. He swung around and hit him with the butt of the sword as the guard went flying into a table on the side. Before long, Eist joined the three of you. “The Law of Surprise has been called. You kill them… kill me.”

Soon, all of the Lords joined the battle, running towards the four of you with their daggers and swords. Just as you all defeated the guards, you easily defeated the lords. One of the lords that had been constantly after you all night ran towards Geralt. You frowned and went after him, tripping him as he fell forward and knocked himself out as he hit the floor hard. The Lord's brother saw this and charged angrily at you but Geralt saw this and swung his sword across his chest as he fell over with a scream. You smiled briefly at him and nodded at him as you continued fighting other guards that appeared behind you. One of the guards had been able to disarm you, knocking the sword that was in your hand onto the floor. With quick movements, you grabbed the dagger that was hidden on your thigh garter and spun, slashing his throat, watching as he fell, gripping his throat tightly. You grabbed the sword you were using and continued to fight, almost in a rampage to make a point. Calanthe had enough of the fighting and rose from her seat as she grabbed her sword and made her way into the middle of the battle, kicking one of her guards on the way. Geralt sensed a presence behind him and swung his sword only to stop as Calanthe was holding her sword towards him.

“Stop!”

"STOP!"

“Duny. I told you to stay away.” You panted as you stood back, watching as Pavetta hugged her lover tightly. You moved behind the couple as you tried to fix your tattered dress, dropping the sword in your hand and sheathing your dagger back into place. Duny kneeled in front of the queen and took a deep breath.

“Your Majesty… the Witcher speaks the truth. I was cursed as a young boy. My whole life a living misery until the day that I saved your husband, King Roegner, from certain death. By tradition, I chose the law of Surprise as payment. Whatever windfall he came home to find… would be mine.”

“Oh, the stupid bastard. Better you had let him die!”

“You knew he’d come, and you pushed me to kill him.” You jumped at Geralt's voice from how close it was to you. You didn't realize he had moved towards you. You looked up at him and swallowed thickly, knowing the moment you were alone, he was going to berate you for being so foolish. He reached a tentative hand towards your cheek as he scanned you for injuries. You had a few cuts around your body as well as a few bruises on your cheek, jaw, and collarbone that were already darkening. He cursed you quietly and you huffed a silent laugh as Calanthe spoke with her daughter and her lover.

”...andoned all thought of claiming the Law of Surprise. I knew…. I knew no woman would ever accept me like this. And so I waited. I waited until the twelfth bell when the curse breaks. I never intended to meet her. Just to watch from afar.”

“Until destiny intervened… and our hearts collided.”

“And at dawn, I awoke with her in my arms and me… like this.” You watched the couple and sighed softly, knowing your heart longed for someone to look at you the way Duny looked at Pavetta, or in this case, you wished he looked at you that way.

“Who are we to challenge destiny? Life was saved, debt must be paid, or the whole order of the world falls apart.”

“Honor destiny’s wish, or unleash its wrath upon us.”

Calanthe glared at all the men. “There is no us. I bow to no law made by men who never bore a child! Is there not a man amongst you who does not cower before destiny? You, Witcher… who has known monsters of every fang and claw… are you afraid too?” Calanthe looked at Geralt as he scowled at her. Because he couldn't look at you, he reached out and held your arm in his hand as a sense of comfort, his way of knowing you were okay.

“No. I’ve seen mothers lash themselves raw over the death of a child, believing they crossed destiny, ignoring the stench of the 50 other children in the plague cart outside. Destiny… helps people believe there’s an order to this horseshit. There isn’t. But a promise made must be honoured. As true for a commoner… as it is for a queen.” Geralt quickly returned his gaze to you as he pulled you into his arms. You relaxed under his hold, taking a deep breath of his scent.

“NO!” Before you could realize what was happening, everyone was thrown by a powerful thrust of power. Geralt's back hit the wall but you weren't so lucky. Your head hit the wall hard and you fell unconscious on the floor as Geralt called out your name, pulling you into his hold once more as you fell limp against him. He could hear your heartbeat and that was enough to calm him in the moment, but he was still worried as you wouldn't react to anything he did. He cradled your head gently and growled when he pulled his hand back and saw it was covered in blood. Geralt watched as a large tornado began to form in the room as Pavetta and Duny began to float in the eye of the storm. Geralt and Mousesack tried their best to intervene but we're thrown back as the storm got stronger, gathering all of the loose items in the room. Geralt looked at your unconscious form and knew, the sooner he ended this, the sooner he could get back to you. Taking one of his vials, Geralt gained enough power to cast his magic. He pushed as hard as he could into the storm, getting an inch inside. Pavetta gasped as she looked at him as he casted his magic at her, throwing the couple onto the floor. He panted heavily as he slid to the floor next to you, pulling you into his arms as he held you tightly, as everyone watched Calanthe reconnect with her daughter.

“Destiny has spoken! And I have listened. The Law of Surprise will be honored. Pavetta will marry… Lord Urcheon.”

“React poorly and you won’t just face the Lioness, you will be facing the sea hounds of Skellige. Because Queen Calanthe has… agreed to my proposal of marriage.”

“There will be two vows here tonight! I assume that’s agreeable…” Everyone nodded their acceptance as Calanthe smiled softly. “Delightful.”

Soon, the couple was married by the queen. Duny began to growl animalisticaly as he fell to the floor. When he lifted his head, the curse had been lifted and the spikes that adorned his head were replaced with black curls, and what used to be animal features on his face, we're now human features.

“The twelfth bell has not yet rung.”

“What has happened?”

“I think your blessing of this marriage… has fulfilled a destiny. The curse has been lifted.”

“Whew! I think this has the makings of my greatest ballad yet.”

“If you’re alive in the morning. Don’t… grope for trout in any peculiar rivers until dawn.” Geralt was all but ready to leave as he held you in his arms. He needed to get you away from all the royal drama to heal you. He growled in irritation as he was stopped by Duny.

“No, Wait! Wait. Both you and Y/n saved my life. I must repay you.”

“You’ve proven yourself to be the kind of man who would do the same. We want nothing.”

“No, please. Please, Geralt of Rivia, do not feel like you’re doing me a service. I cannot start a new life in the shadow of a life debt.”

The Witcher sighed as his eyes drifted down to your unconscious form. His eyes softened and he looked back up to the knight. It's not like you could make a decision and he knew he'd have to make it for the both of you. “Fine. We… claim the tradition as you have, the Law of Surprise. Give us that which you already have but do not know.” Geralt turned to leave once more but stopped at the cry from Calanthe.

“No! What have you done, Witcher?”

“Fear not, Your Majesty, if we're seen in your kingdom again, it’ll be to kill a real monster, not lay claim to a crop or a new pup. Now as you can see, Y/n is injured. Destiny can go fu-” Geralt was interrupted by Pavetta as she threw up and both Duny and Calanthe moved to her side immediately. All three of them slowly looked up at Geralt as he watched in surprise before sighing. “Fuck.” Geralt moved quickly away from the room, grabbing his sword that was lodged in a table, having enough of all the drama for the night. Mousesack stopped him to speak as he glared at the man, already not pleased with him from earlier events.

“Clearly the girl has access to immense primal power.”

“Yeah, and with no idea how to control it.”

“I’m gonna stay. Guide her.”

“You’re a good man, Mousesack.”

“You should stay too.”

“This has been enough partying for me. I’m getting out of here with Y/n.”

“You’re both bound to this now, Geralt. Whether you like it or not.”

“I’m not for changing. You know me better than that."

“Yes, I do, but you can’t outrun destiny just because you’re terrified of it. It’s coming Geralt. Not believing won’t change that. If you want to protect her, you'll do what's right.” Mousesack nodded to you in his arms and Geralt unconsciously gripped you tighter as if you'd slip from his hold.

“Bullshit. This was just a girl using her magic to stop her mother from gutting her lover. Nothing more.”

“So you say as if you wouldn't do the same for Y/n. But the bond that will come into being between you, Y/n, and this child… when it is born will be extraordinary. If you dismiss it, leave without claiming this… child surprise, you will surely unleash true calamity upon us all.”

“We'll take that chance. Mind yourself. True words are rare birds in courts like this. Watch for daggers in your back. Or, more likely, poison. Be careful, old friend.” Geralt turned and left the castle, making his way towards the suite you had rented. He held you carefully as he rode Roach through the quiet night. He watched you quietly as he sighed into the silent night. “You are an idiot, you know that my love? Throwing yourself in front of that knight like your life didn’t matter… Let me tell you, it does.” Geralt held his breath as he swore he saw you move in your unconscious state but when you were still for a few minutes, he let go of the breath he was holding and shook his head. “To me, you do anyways. Watching you today was just… I didn't know you could fight so well.” Geralt willed his eyes away from your form to watch the road he was travelling on.

Once he arrived at the suite, he made his way to one of the bedrooms and laid you down on the bed as he brought bandages and some of the ointments that you always used for his wounds. He made sure to remove the heels you were wearing, setting them to the side of the bed. He let his fingers linger over the skin of your ankle before scolding himself and returning to caring for your wounds. Touching your soft skin as he cared for your wounds had him feeling hot under his clothes. He didn't know how he could handle being around you after watching you fight and seeing that much of your skin. Sure, you both have traveled for years together but you were too innocent, too careful about yourself and your surroundings. You'd never change in front of each other, you wouldn't even remove your shoes in front of him sometimes. He thought you had something against him but as he noticed you were this way with everyone, it didn't offend him so much. But after seeing you fighting, seeing how swift you moved around, how sexy you looked with your tattered dress, he didn't know if he could go back to you being your innocent self.

He didn't know how much time he spent watching your sleeping form. He reached over dragging his fingers against your cheek before letting it drift down to your shoulders. He let his fingers wandered slowly down your arms all the way to your fingertips. His hand moved further to your exposed skin. He let his fingers hover over your hip before touching your warm skin. Slowly he watched his own hand as it moved across the soft expanse of your thigh, stopping for a moment at the thigh garter as he removed your dagger. He stared at the piece of clothing as if it was offending him. He wondered now just how many times you wore this under your clothes. He swallowed thickly as he moved his hand down to your knee when he heard your heartbeat jump up, beating fast and hard, the opposite of what it was moments before. His eyes snapped up to your face and he saw you watching him with wide eyes. He didn't have the words to explain what he was doing and slowly moved to stand up from the bed but you reached out and grabbed his hand gently, pulling him back to you. You held his hand like it was a lifeline as you sat up, Geralt using his other arm to help you into a seating position. You reached up gently, cupping his jaw as you moved a stray piece of hair behind his ear just as he had done earlier at the betrothal. “Did I miss anything important?” You whispered playfully as you watched his eyes wildly take in your features.

Geralt huffed at you as he let himself relax under your touch. He swallowed thickly and sighed as he locked his eyes with yours. “You worried me dove.”

“It was only a small bump. I’ll be alright by tomorrow.”

“You must’ve hit your head really hard if you even think I’ll let you travel while in this state.”

“Witcher, please. I’ve suffered worse.” You moved to stand up but winced as a fast and sharp pain passed through your head. Geralt only looked at you with a disapproving frown, only confirming what he was saying. You let yourself give in to the tiredness. You sighed quietly as you nodded. “Fine, I guess a day of rest wouldn’t hurt.”

“Good. Now that I know you’re okay, what were you thinking?”

“What are you talking about?��

“Throwing yourself in front of Duny like that!” Geralt hadn’t meant to but his anger had taken over his head. He was enraged that you’d been so careless of your life. You flinched as he yelled at you and he noticed. He took a deep breath, dragging his hand down his face, trying to calm down. An uncomfortable silence fell in the room between the two. Geralt knew he couldn’t dance around his feelings anymore. He would take your rejection over the what ifs. “I could’ve lost you.”

You opened your mouth to answer but you had lost your voice. You knew he’d be upset but you never anticipated this. The way he said those last four words made you hope there was more to his words. That he wasn’t just worried about losing you because he was your friend. You didn’t know if asking outright would help the uncomfortable feeling you had and decided to lighten the mood just a tad before getting serious. “You wouldn’t have. I knew you’d be there to protect me. I know deep in my heart you’ll always be there, Úlfur minn.” Geralt grunted at the nickname. You had started to call him this about a year ago and he always tried to find out the meaning behind it but never could. It was from a very old language that was almost never used anymore. He knew you knew the language to heal, some spells requiring this language aside from Elven. You would never tell him what it meant and it bothered him to no end.

“Now you’re making fun of me?” You furrowed your brows at his statement as you quickly shook your head in disbelief.

“Úlfur minn, I’m not making fun of you. I’m being honest.”

“Like you’ve been when you tell me whatever that stupid name you call me means?” You felt yourself frown at his words as you tried to think of something to answer but came up blank again for the second time that night. “Yeah, thought so.” Geralt couldn’t explain why he was so angry. He was still pent up from the evening at the betrothal. He knew it was wrong to take it out on you but he was upset and he needed you to understand that you were too important to just be jumping in front of weapons for others. He stood and paced next to the bed you were laying on. Before he could further mess up the night with the woman he loved and say more, or in this case, yell more, he heard a soft whisper coming from you.

“My wolf.”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @supersassyprobablysad @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @dancingalone21 @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56

The Witcher Tags: @alwayshave-faith @ayamenimthiriel @queenxxxsupreme @stretchkingblog97 @secretsthathauntus @sinnamon-bunn @aubageddon91

Úlfur Minn Tags: @laneygthememequeen @saint-hardy @uncoolcloudyhead @katiejmac @justlovetoreadfics @writingthingsisdifficult @lyssstark01 @moderapoppins @nellaphine @givemebooksorgivemedeath @thatshellfiredean @angrygardendeer @xyfanficarchive @alliwantfromyouistomakelovetome @yokaimoon @posiemax

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mangolover · 5 years ago

Note

May I pls request prompt 8 for Ray? Thank you

Hey, thank you so much for the request!

So I did an oopsie... I wrote over 1500 words in this because I just got carried away by my emotions and sad songs I like to listen to. The angst was just calling me. I had to stop myself because this could easily be over 2000+ words and then I don’t think it would really suit the rules? This is “breaking” them as well, but it’s too late for regrets now.

I hope you will enjoy this!

50 Followers Drabble Event, prompt #8 with Ray Blackwell

If you wish to check out the offical “50 Followers Drabble Event”, press here

Title: Misunderstanding

Prompt: “I haven’t seen you in days.”

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution / Ikerev

Pairing: Ray Blackwell x gn! reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Implications of cheating, heartbreak, mental breakdown (briefly)

Spoilers: none I believe

Word Count: 1500+ (I screwed up okay)

Description: You were sure he was cheating so you ran away and hid with the help of Loki and Harr and decided to go back to Land of Reason in a few days, only to meet back with Ray and finally see that it was all a big misunderstanding.

I really screwed up on this one considering word count.

Also, this has a bit of an open ending, you can let your imagination run wild and let this get fluffy or be pure angst.

Misunderstanding

You raced through the crowd, desperately trying to escape him. He was nothing more than a liar! He lied to you that there was nothing going on between him and that mysterious woman you saw him so many times already out with in Central Quarter, only for him to either deny it ever happening or to just tell you some vague lie. Well now you couldn’t take it anymore. You saw them in each other’s embrace next to the jewelry shop and your heart just broke into million pieces. Now you only wanted to escape them, to escape those thoughts that she’s better than you, that you’re not good enough for Ray anymore. Tears have blurred your vision and you could only notice a lot of people turning to stare at you, clearly recognizing you as the King of Spades’ long-term partner.

You needed to figure out where to go, where to escape. And the first thing that fell on your mind was Forbidden Forest, no one goes there, it’s perfect to try and collect your thoughts. And so, you bolted towards it, hoping Ray has not noticed you and decided to go after you, you can’t listen to any more of his lies right now.

There you sat on a root of tree and put your head in your hands, choking on your silent sobs. You still didn’t want to disturb the nature and its creatures. The realization of everything has finally washed over you like some tsunami and you were left with nothing but ache in your chest and feeling of emptiness alongside a million questions. Maybe that was all your imagination and they are just good friends, preparing you a gift for your birthday, right? But your birthday is not that soon and he would tell you who she was in that case. You were getting lost in your thoughts as you blankly stared at the dirt in front of you, not even noticing Loki slowly sneaking up on you.

You flinched when you saw him crouched in front of you, his mismatched eyes full of worry gaze into yours, when he slowly removed your hands away from your face.

“Y/n, what happened?” he was genuinely worried, but you couldn’t find your voice to answer him and instead you just let out a sob before throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. This left him surprised and he didn’t know what to do, if someone saw you like that it wouldn’t be good, but one glance at you and he knew he had to take you back to his and Harr’s house to calm down. He wrapped his arms around your back, “hold on, we’re going to be home soon, okay?” He used his magic and ran super-fast back to his house. There he instructed you to sit on the sofa and gave Harr a worried glance. Harr quickly averted his gaze and went into the kitchen, returning after a few minutes with some tea and slices of bread with apricot jam, placing them on a small table in front of you.

Back at Black Army’s headquarters, Ray returned back to his office with a shopping bag in his hand when the sun had started to set, only to be met with Sirius’s worried gaze.

“What’s up Sirius? Did something happen?” He asked in a serious tone, his mood quickly changing.

“Did you see y/n? They’ve gone out this morning and haven’t yet returned.” All the possible alarms set off in Ray’s head and the bag fell from his hands, hitting the floor and revealing the shiny dark blue fabric. If you did not return, does that mean you ran away because of his little secrets that he had because of the big surprise he was planning? There was a feeling of dread in his chest and all the color has drained from his face. Sirius’s eyes widened in disbelief and he called other officers, organizing a search party for you, you needed to get back or Ray would break.

Few days have passed and you told Harr and Loki everything, resulting in them lending you a helping hand and letting you stay in their spare room, while Harr also put a magic shield around their house so no one could find you. You wanted to just go home to Land of Reason and tonight was the night of a full moon. Loki got you a thing from the Land of Reason back from your room in Black Army after using his magic. You were really grateful for the two men helping you and not pushing you to go and meet with him just yet, you were hurt and needed time to heal and the only way to grant he doesn’t find you until you’re ready is by that wormhole.

So, when the night rolled around, you said your goodbyes and Loki helped you to the rose garden, you asked him to not use magic to teleport or use super-speed, just so you could see Cradle one last time. And he liked that idea because of his secret plan that you didn’t know anything about. As you walked you could see so many posters from both the Red and Black Army, they were all searching for you, they were all your friends and they all wanted you to come back safely. And due to the full moon, there was even more guards patrolling the Central Quarter.

When you somehow did make your way unnoticed, you hugged Loki and thanked him once again for his hospitality for the past few days. You made your way sneakily to the garden where the wormhole was supposed to open only to find, who you assumed was Ray standing in front of the light. His hair was a mess, his uniform has seen better days and when he noticed your presence and turned around, you saw that his eyes were red from endless crying but they seemed so cold at the same time and he was deathly pale.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you didn’t know what to do. How did he know you’re re going to be here? You couldn’t do it anymore, there was a small smile on his lips and it petrified you, is he going to fed you some more lies? Or has he finally decided to eliminate you? You weren’t even sure if that was the Ray you know anymore; all you know was that you wanted him to just disappear.

“Y/n, you’re okay?” His voice was hoarse, but he was clearly relieved and happy? Was he glad you’re okay? He took a step towards you and you instinctively took a step back only to see the hurt flash across his face for a few moments before he averted his gaze. “I haven’t seen you in days.”

“That’s the first truth you told me in weeks” your voice was cold and you didn’t even know where you found it, but here you were, talking back to highly respected king. “If you’ve decided to speak the truth now that I am leaving, will you finally be honest and tell me if something’s going on between you and that woman?” Ray’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I told you there is nothing going on between us” you rolled your eyes. “It’s a misunderstanding, let me explain y/n, please.” He was begging you to let him explain, but you weren’t ready for more of his lies.

“She was helping plan a big surprise for you, I had planned to do it for so long, I just wanted it to be perfect, because you only deserve perfect.” Tears started gathering in the corners of your eyes. “No, stop lying to me! Please Ray, why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?!” You grabbed your hair and raised your voice. You can’t take any more oh his bullshit, he needs to just tell you the truth.

“I promise I’m not lying y/n!” Now he was crying as well, slowly inching his way towards you, “please look at me, I can prove it to you! Look!”

He got on his knees and put his hand in his on his jacket’s pocket, pulling out a small box, your vision was too blurry to make out any details, you were shaking your head from side to side and murmuring something to yourself. He opened the box, “I wanted to ask you this for so long y/n, will you marry me?” He tried to crack a smile, his eyes pleading you to say yes and you finally calmed down a little, casting your gaze down.

You were at the loss of words, you couldn’t accept it, but you didn’t want to refuse it either. Maybe it was all just your imagination, deep down you still wanted it to be that, you still cared for Ray. But you were so close to just making a run for it and you would be home, away from all of this, away from this mess, finally alone to collect yourself.

And so, you had to choose, give it one more try and accept his proposal, or return to Land of Reason and let both of you break because of a misunderstanding?

#50 followers drabble event #🥭#ikemen revolution #ikemen revolution ray #ray blackwell #ray blackwell x reader #ikerev #ikerev drabble #ikemen revolution ray drabble #ikemen revolution ray angst #ikerev ray drabble #ikemen revolution drabble #ikerev ray angst #ikemen revolution angst #tw cheating #tw implied cheating #tw mental breakdown #tw arguing #Ikerev angst

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helloprettybb · 5 years ago

Text

we belong together

I’m back from the blackout! I started a crap ton of fics, but didn’t have ambition to fully fledge them out. I suggest listening to Ritchie Valens’ We Belong Together because it’s such a vibe. Also, I love 50s music and it’s just so Steve so there’s going to be a lot of 50s song fics. Reader is over 18, but young so like early 20s. I’ll write a part two if that’s something you’d want.

warnings- age gap sorta, angst

word count- 2.1k

You’re mine And we belong together Yes, we belong together For eternity

Steve steps through the doorway of the common room. He hears music coming from the kitchen and if he stretches his ears, he can hear a faint humming. The voice is soft and pretty, yet familiar. He feels very disoriented, but before he could dive into that feeling, something in him makes him venture into the kitchen to investigate the sound.

He enters the kitchen and sees you dancing. It’s an interesting sight, to say the least. Your back is to him and the dress, which dips down to right above your waist, is the same dress you wore at your first gala with the team. The blue and silver sparkles shimmer down your body as the kitchen lights shine against the bodice. The dress shows every curve of your body and Steve may or may not be blatantly staring. You look as beautiful as you did the night of the gala. Steve looks down at his plain t-shirt and slacks in slight embarrassment.

Almost as if you sensed his presence, you turn around. Beaming happily, you greet him, “Hello, love.”

Love? Something doesn’t feel right, but Steve can’t deny the fluttering in his chest when you call him that. You step closer to him and grab his hands. He doesn’t resist and you ask, “You alright, my dear?”

“Uh, yeah, I think,” Steve replies unsurely. You move his hands to your waist and Steve can’t help but lightly stroke his fingers up and down the bodice. The jewels are slightly rough and he years to feel the soft skin underneath.

Wait, what is happening? This isn’t normal ,and something is definitely off. As if you could sense his uneasiness, you look up at him innocently and ask, “Do you love me, Stevie?”

Steve’s hands freeze at your waist. Of course, he loves you. But it feels like he shouldn’t say it back, so he asks, “Uh, doll? What’s going on?”

You brush his question off with a laugh, “Nothing, honey.” Caressing your hands over his chest, you lean closer to him and ask, “Do you love me?”

Steve doesn’t know why you keep insisting that he says that. He looks deeper into your eyes and he notices a detail that makes him tense up. Their usual liveliness and amusement are gone and look almost dead. You notice the displeasure on his face and question, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you could never do anything wrong,” he responds, releasing you from his hands and leaning back on the counter. Maybe if he separates from you, he could clear his mind.

“Why don’t you love me?” you exclaim out of agony. You bury your head into his chest and start to cry. Steve instinctively wraps his arms around you. He doesn’t know what to do and his uncertainty is replaced with panic.

Stroking your hair, he frantically says, “I love you, Y/n. I promise, I do!” You calm down immediately and Steve’s uneasiness returns.

Looking up at him, you command, “Kiss me.”

“What?” Steve asks.

“Kiss me, Steve. Please,” you beg, watery eyes big and wild. Steve stutters, not knowing what to say or do. Before he could form a real sentence, you surge forward and connect your lips rather forcefully. Steve is taken aback, but his body takes control and his hand snakes up to your cheek. The kiss is beyond compare, which is the problem. Everything is almost too perfect

Your lips are too soft for someone who constantly forgets to put on chapstick. Your hair perfectly frames your face, but Steve knows there are numerous baby hairs that fall near your eyebrows. The final nail in the coffin is your skin. It’s smooth and even everywhere, but it’s wrong. You have a scar from a four-inch dagger on your shoulder, there’s a dimple on your collarbone and an indent on your right arm. Whoever made this simulation was close, but not good enough.

The two of you pull apart and the fake you smiles. Steve knows that whatever he says to you will never see the light of day. “I love you,” he says one last time before his world disappears.

“You okay, Cap?” he hears over the com. Steve looks around and remembers where he is. Clint strolls over to him and helps Steve to his feet.

He quickly avoids any questioning by responding, “Yes,” He asks to divert attention, “Where are the others?” Clint briefs Steve on everyone’s situation. They all hang their heads low as they head to the plane.

Almost everyone got hit, but Steve felt shame. Everyone thought it was because Ultron and the kids defeated them and managed to get away, but it wasn’t that. He’d never tell anyone the real reason why he was so affected by the witch’s mind games. Sulking in the quin jet, Steve sits in the corner and reflects on the dream.

He started with the easy ones. You were wearing the dress because that was the night of your first gala and unbeknownst to you, the night Steve fell head over heels for you.

“How do I look?” Steve hears behind him. He turns to see you walking down the stairs toward him. He probably looks like an idiot with his jaw to the floor, but at the moment, he didn’t care.

He’s seen you in formalwear for undercover missions, but this is the first time you’re wearing a dress that doesn’t have a weapon hidden, or at least, it shouldn’t. Whoever picked it out should be given a raise because you look absolutely radiant.

Starting from the floor up, your high heels raise you a couple inches, but not enough to be eye level with him. The skirt skids the floor slightly, but Steve’s more distracted by the slit on the left side that leaves your thigh exposed and directly leads up to your-

“You never answered my question, doofus.” you jest. Steve was too busy ogling you to even realize you were already down the stairs, let alone answer your question.

Steve clears his throat and replies, “You look great.” He feels like such a chump. He mentally curses himself for not thinking of a better compliment, but you seem satisfied, laughing heartily. Maybe it’s because you had a more modest wardrobe, but when Steve looked down at the intricate beading and glittering jewels, he got caught at your chest. He instantly felt disgusted that he’d think such unsavory thoughts about you, but he can’t help it. And if your perfect cleavage wasn’t enough, the fact that the entire dress was only held up by skinny straps made Steve feel both ashamed and lustful.

You break his immodest train of thought off when you link your arm in his and ask, “Ready to go?”

The dress was easy, but Steve also remembered that you called him an odd variation of names. Never in real life has he heard you call him Stevie, let alone love or my dear. Maybe it was your affinity for old movies and what you called their “old-fashioned pet names.” To Steve, they were normal, but he’d never tell you that at risk of aging himself even more.

But why were you so insistent on him saying he loved you?

“I’ve never said I love you.” You confess. It’s just the two of you since the rest of the team has plans. It’s still movie night, so you asked Steve if he still wanted to do it. He readily accepted, but in hindsight, realized it wasn’t the best idea. The first bad idea of the night was when he let you choose the movie. You picked a soppy vintage romantic movie about some girl wanting something and some guy wanting something else. Steve didn’t really remember the details and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t because of the second bad idea. Instead of grabbing two separate blankets, you chose a giant one that could cover the both of you. Steve ended up taking 90% of it while you were left with hardly anything. Your solution was to curl up in a ball and nestle up next to Steve’s side. Your small body against his made concentrating on the movie impossible causing Steve to turn his focus to someone else.

“Really?” Steve asks, glad to break the forty-minute silence.

Shaking your head, you reply, “Nope. My parents weren’t very affectionate so I never felt the need to say it.”

“Well, friends can say I love you.” Steve reasons, hoping he wasn’t sounding too desperate.

You shrug, “I guess, but I feel like, at this point, it’d have to be special for me to say it.” Picking at the kernels in the popcorn bowl that the two of you shared, you say, “I just don’t get how people can say it so easily.” Gesturing to the TV, you add, “Like this woman just met him two days ago, yet she already said she loved him.”

“Well, some people just know.” Steve responds. He looks down and sees you staring up at him innocently. Maybe it’s the wide, gentle look in your eyes, but it feels like his heart fills with words and spur him on to ramble, “Y’know, like soulmates.” You nod and Steve feels your head lower to his chest.

He continues, “Of course, you should get to know the person a little bit, but sometimes it doesn’t take much. They already know that they want to spend eternity with them. They just belong together and would swear by everything they own that they are each others’. They know that they’d do anything for them and never let any harm come to them. They’d just hold them in their arms and protect them from the world.”

Steve pauses and regains himself. He doesn’t know where all that came from and just how much he revealed during it. But then he hears the rhythmic breathing beneath him. Looking down, he sees that your eyes are closed and mouth is slightly open. Fast asleep, you’re still holding onto him and Steve can’t help but smile as he turns the television off and holds you a little closer.

The night that could have been.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a figure stand up and move toward him. He doesn’t even need to look up to know it’s you, but your voice confirms it. “Hey, did you get hit, too?” Steve nods and you ask, “Do you know why we saw those visions?”

“No clue, but my guess is that they tried to tear the team apart.” Steve responds thoughtfully.

You ask, “Well, did it work?” Steve looks around at the jet and sees the atmosphere that the witch’s mind games created. Natasha’s in one corner, twirling a knife around while Clint tries to talk to her. Tony’s hidden in the cockpit, even though he could just set the plane to autopilot. Thor looks like he’s deep in thought as he paces back and forth the longest part of the plane.

You take his silence as an answer and say unprompted, “I saw my parents.” Steve’s eyes turn back to you and he sees you slump a little lower, “They were telling me I was a disappointment and would never amount to anything.” He can tell that you’re still a little shaken up.

“I’m sorry.” Steve responds, not knowing how to make anything better, especially after his dream about you.

“It’s okay. Just shows me that I still haven’t gotten over them.” you admit a little sadly. Changing the subject, you ask, “What’d you see?”

Steve can’t tell you the truth, can he? If he does, he doesn’t know what you’d say. You could be disgusted and never speak to him ever again. You’d probably hate him for having a perverted crush on you.

And even if you did reciprocate your feelings, what would the team think? They already call him The Man Out of Time and half-heartedly joke that he’s a senior citizen. He knows they’re just joking, but every joke has a little truth in it, right? They’d probably shun him for being a creepy old man, preying on a younger girl.

Lately, some of the jokes have been geared toward you and how it seems you’ve become his caretaker for how much time you spend with him. No, even if there was a chance, he couldn’t risk damaging your reputation

With all those thoughts racing in his head, he simply replies, “I saw Peggy.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines

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boyy-wonder-grayson · 5 years ago

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Winter's Weather // Dick Grayson Au!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warnings: nothing other than some swearing and maybe a little angst if you squint (?)

A/n: chapter 2 it's finally here!! I don't know how to feel about this since I've hit writers block quite a few times while writing this,I wanted to make it longer than the first one, which it is, but I don't know. Sorry about the moodboards they're easy and fun to do, so I'll probably do more lmao. Thanks for reading and feedback is always appreciated :) anyway enjoy!!

The first night at her father’s cabin was spent reminiscing of all the times she has been there when her family was complete. Her father was a fisherman, so he usually would wake the girls up and take them to the lake to teach them how to fish. Y/n was quite good at it, her sister Remy on the other hand was not kin of the early activities her father would take them to. Y/n found her father’s old fishing roads at the back of the house; she’d probably end up selling them or donating them to the local shop back in town. It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. It’s been five years since her father had passed and the wound was still fresh; her father had been her best friend through life. He was a kind man with a wicked sense of humor, he was the backbone of their family, so when he passed it was harder and harder to go back home to her mother who apparently didn’t took him long to find someone else to spend the rest of her life with. That was something Y/n wasn’t happy about; is not that she didn’t want for her mother to be happy, on the contrary, it was that her father’s death was still very much fresh on her mind and she was not ready to move on from that just yet. That was part of the reason why she moved back to his old cabin; to make peace with his death, and try to live a happy life just like her father had wanted for her.

So far she wasn’t doing a good job at it.

In the mess that her father had left on the basement of the house she found more and more stuff that belonged to him and it was hard for her no to cry; being surrounded by her father’s presence was something she wasn’t quite ready to do apparently. She found his old camera inside of a box. The box was filled with Polaroid’s of her, some with her sister and her mother and some of the house. His father was an amateur photographer and that camera was a gift from her in his 50’s birthday. He loved It so much that he took it everywhere with him. He used to say that a picture could tell a better story than words could muster, which it used to annoy her given that she was a writer; writing was her life and for her father to say something like that would make her roll her eyes, but now looking at the photographs she realized he was right. There he was smiling at the camera hugging her closer to his body, laughing because he was squeezing her so hard that her face could barely be seen, nevertheless her sister took the picture. She sniffed looking around and drying her tears, it was going to be harder than she thought. She grabbed the box and the camera and took them upstairs with her, promising that tomorrow she would organize everything and would set her life in motion. After all she would do it for her father, if not for her.

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It was seven a.m. when she heard a knock on her door and groaned, hoping that whoever was brave enough to disrupt her sleep would just go away, but of course she wasn’t that lucky. The knocking intensified until she threw the covers of her bed and shivered when the cold morning air hit her warm body. Apparently sleeping with a short sleeved shirt and some shorts wasn’t a good idea in winter. She opened the door without looking who it was; she was already in a bad mood, one: because who the hell comes all the way to the middle of the woods to wake someone up at the crack of dawn –overdramatic as always—and two: nobody knew she was back in town so who the hell was banging on her door so early? Her question was quickly answered when she was face to face with non-other that the annoying man from yesterday.

“What are you doing here?” she asked confused “and so early in the morning” she added bitterly trying her hardest to show her distaste of his visit.

“Good morning to you too” the guy replied sarcastically. “Like I told you yesterday, your father put me in charge of his place and since you’re here now, and since I’m sure you’re not aware of how a cabin is run, I thought I’d explain to you, so you don’t tear this place down” he said smiling at her now, showing a cute smile that made her stomach turn but not in a good way. He was cocky and she didn’t like that. Not that much at least.

“Is it necessary that you come here at 7 a.m. to do this?” she asked through gritted teeth. She couldn’t believe the audacity of this man.

“Yes, because unlike you I can’t lose my time with people who decided to come live in a cabin in the middle of the woods because her life in the big city wasn’t working for her” he said dryly, almost as if he was angry about it. Y/n was taken aback with his response and look at him in disbelief, partly because of how quickly his playful and cocky attitude changed to a more serious and dark one, and partly because he was right about her reason for coming back to Mystic so suddenly. It was true that her life in the city was not going well and she thought some fresh air from the small town that saw her grow would be a good change, but she wasn’t going to give this stranger man the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He was so right.

“Excuse me Mr. Grinch” she said, earning a glare from the boy. “I don’t need you here. I’ve spent years in this cabin; I know exactly how to keep this place running okay? So you can go now and steal Christmas or whatever that Grinch’s like you do” she said turning around leaving the boy standing at the door. It was her second day back in town and she was already infuriated with this man. Who the hell does he think he is to talk to her like that?

The man on the other hand was fuming; he didn’t like her attitude, and he certainly didn’t like to be compared to one of the most famous grumps in the world, especially by someone who didn’t even know him. He had his reasons to be that way, to be guarded against everyone and everything; that was at least his justification for his shitty attitude, but Y/n was not going to put up with that.

“Listen city girl, I’m not here to discuss how you should or should not do, your father gave me explicit instructions to keep this place intact, and unlike you, I plan to follow them” he said walking closer to the girl. Y/n was angry now. She didn’t even have her morning coffee and she was already arguing with a man, her morning could not be better. Before she could start spewing insults at the boy he started talking again.

“Do you know how much firewood you need to survive the winter? Because no offense but I don’t think chopping wood is one of your strong suits. Or do you know how to properly clean and dry the wood? Or do you know what kind of stain you need to use in this particular house? I’m sure you do right, since you’ve always came here?” he asked question after question making the girl fell smaller with each one. It was true that she didn’t know much about what it took to keep cabin running, but she was stubborn as hell and was not going to back down from an argument, not when her pride was on the line.

“I don’t need some lumberjack wannabe to tell me how to take care of my house, I can always talk to someone else, or hire someone to the maintenance for me” she replied smugly, enjoying the way his face contorted with each word she said. He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair trying to calm himself down, it wasn’t ideal that he was stubborn as hell too. Their personalities collided and no one was going to back down if that meant admitting they were wrong.

“Your father asked me to take care of this place, and I will do it whether you like it or not” he said looking straight into her eyes. She would be a big fat liar if she said that his stare wasn’t doing things to her. Her stomach twisted and her heartbeat accelerated looking at the man in front of her. He was hot and handsome as hell, his brown eyes became darker the more frustrated he got and she imagined herself in a different situation with those brown eyes staring at her with such intensity. She quickly shook her head to get rid of such sinful thoughts and cleared her throat trying to come remember what he said last.

The brown eyed boy wasn’t too different from her. His eyes darted towards her chest, he noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra and the cold air of the morning made her nipples hard, but she was too engrossed trying arguing with him to notice. But he did notice my god. He removed his eyes quickly from her chest and the next thing he noticed was her long legs; he imagined himself in a different situation where her legs would be wrapped around his waist. He shook his head gently removing those thoughts from his head, hopefully she wouldn’t have noticed the way he was checking her out. She didn’t, but she did ask him a question.

“What?” he said feeling stupid for thinking about taking the woman in front of him against the nearest wall, instead of listening to her.

“I asked what your name is, or should I call you Grinch?” she asked with amusement dancing in her eyes.

“I’m Richard, but everyone just calls me Dick.”

------

The following day Y/n woke up early that day with the intention of doing some work around the house. She wasn’t sure yet what would happen to the cabin; she thought about selling the place once she finished with the maintenance and some remodeling. A cabin in the woods would give her some good money; but detaching herself from the house where she spent half her childhood and teenage years was hard.

She still had time though. She was taking some time away from the city so spending time away from everyone and being on her own would do her good. Or at least that was what she said to herself. She decided after having her second breakfast –which consisted of some coffee—that she needed some groceries if she was going to spend the winter in the woods. The stores weren’t so far from the cabin so she grabbed her wallet, keys and wrapped herself in her warmest clothes to go out and face the winter of Connecticut. She made it into town in twenty minutes. It was snowing slightly when she got out of the car, she had park just in front of Mrs. Bradley old market. That place was already when she was a kid and apparently was still standing strong. Mrs. Bradley was the nicest woman she had ever met, the woman would always sneak a candy or two for her and her sister when they were shopping with her dad, her mother didn’t like that and scoffed whenever that happened but Mrs. Bradley would pay no mind and do it whenever she could. The bell atop of the door dinged when she entered the shop, making the old woman lift her gaze and when she recognized a smile stretched across her lips.

“Y/n! Oh look at you!” the old woman beamed at her making her smile even bigger. The woman moved from her spot behind the register to hug the girl, which the later reciprocated with as much enthusiasm as the woman.

“You look so beautiful; look how much you’ve grown!”

“Thanks Mrs. Bradley you’re looking good too, didn’t age a day.”

“Lucky for you flattery would get you everywhere with me” the woman said, making the girl laugh. One thing she loved about this town was the people. Most of the town had seen her grow from a little kid to the woman she is today. She had a special place for everyone in this town, especially Mrs. Bradley, she was like the grandmother she never had.

“Well lucky me then” she said giggling with the old woman.

“I haven’t seen you in what? Five years? ” Mrs. Bradley asked rubbing her hands along her arms in a comforting manner “I’m sorry about your father, we were all very sad to hear that he was gone, I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt. You were so closed” she said smiling sadly.

“Thanks, and yeah it was…hard, that’s why it took me so long to come back here” she admitted; it was easy for her to talk to this woman, easier than with her mother for sure.

“I know sweetie, I know. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.” She was so grateful to have someone like her that she could confide in about pretty much everything.

“Yeah, and I’ll be around for a long time I think,” she confessed. The old woman hugged her once again and professed how happy she was that she had decided to stick around for a while promising that they would have a chat whenever she was free. The girl nodded excited to finally be back somewhere where she felt comfortable enough to call it home. She apologized to the customer that was waiting for the women to finish chatting and made her way to the back of the store to get some groceries. She was halfway done with every item on her list when she found herself in front of the cereal aisle; she scanned the shelf looking for her favorite brand, she smiled triumphantly when she found the last box at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes trying to reach the box before someone snatched it out of her grasp. Her head snapped quickly to find the body attached to the hand that took the last box of cereal and of course it had to be no other than Dick.

“Give it back” she said, already annoyed by her presence. Dick looked down at her acknowledging her presence and chuckled when he saw her frowning like a child.

“No” he said, trying hard not to laugh at her expression. Her mouth was slightly open, her brows were furrowed and he knew she was ready to retaliate.

“I saw it first, I even grabbed it first before you literally took it out of my hands” she explained “So technically it’s mine” she said crossing her arms across her chest.

“Technically it’s in my basket, so it’s mine,” he said. He would never admit it but as much as he was annoyed by her, he still enjoyed pissing her off.

“You stole it! So give it back now” she reached a hand waiting for him to return her cereal.

“Nop” he said and turned around leaving her with her mouth open. She was trying to think of a good comeback but dick was halfway across the store by then.

“At least he does justice to his name” Y/n said grabbing a different box of cereal, sighing she continued her shopping hoping not to bump into Dick for the rest of the day.

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Dick’s phone rang the second he sat inside his car. He sighed when he saw the name on the screen.

“Bruce” he said coldly. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture now; he had shit to do other than to listen to what his dad had to say.

“Son, how are you? I wasn’t sure if you were going to answer the phone” Bruce said making Dick roll his eyes and his passive-aggressiveness.

“Yeah, well I did. Can I help you with something?” he was already stressed about this whole thing. He moved from Gotham to avoid everything and everyone; but apparently Gotham did not move on from him.

“Not really I was just checking on you, since you don’t seem to call much these days” Bruce said sounding a little…sad. Dick felt a pang in his chest. Guilt. He knew Bruce was not doing this on purpose, despite everything he loved his dad and Bruce loved him too, but being reminded every week or two how he seemed to forget about his family stung.

“I know, and I’m sorry it’s just…it’s still hard,” Dick confessed over the phone. He heard Bruce sighing on the other line.

“I know kid, I know it’s hard. But I thought moving there was supposed to do good to you. What happened?”

“Nothing happened that’s the thing” he said not making much sense “Nothing happened. Things just stayed the same as it was back in Gotham and I honestly don’t know what I was expecting when I moved out here. I guess I’m just mad that my feelings didn’t change after all the time I spent here” he pinched the bridge of his nose; he didn’t know why was he saying all this now, he spent so much time lying to himself and his father about being okay and now the words came out of his mouth like a damn breaking after holding the water for far too long.

“Look Dick, I know you don’t like when I give you advice but listen to me son” Bruce said in a serious tone “Things won’t change unless you make them change. Moving out was just the first step, maybe it was a good one or maybe not. But things won’t be different because you don’t want them to be different. Starting over is a big step in life, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad one. You need to start thinking less and start acting more.”

As much as Dick hated to admit it, Bruce was right. He wondered many times if the only reason why he wasn’t moving out in life was because he was subconsciously sabotaging his own life; and the answer was yes. He had many opportunities to forget about her and find someone new to help him heal his broken heart, but he refused to take them because he was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again, afraid of opening to someone only for that someone to leave him like it happened the last time. He knew it was stupid to hold onto the pain from the past, and that not everyone was going to hurt him, but the fear was there and he spent so many years being comfortable inside the wall he built around himself, that thinking of going out of them was scary.

“I know, and I try but…I can’t”

“I know son, but being scared it’s just part of the healing process. You can’t throw your life away for one misstep. It’s not worth it. She wasn’t worth it” Bruce said trying to lift the boys’ spirits.

“Thanks dad, I kind needed this long overdue conversation” he said sincerely. He missed his family.

“No problem kid, I know I haven’t been the best example when it comes to relationships, but I know a thing or two” Bruce joked. Dick smiled wide, missing the old man and his antics.

“I have to go, I’ll talk to you later dad” he said, turning the engine on.

"Okay kid, take care, and please don’t hesitate to call. We miss you, I think even Jason does”

“Tell him I miss him too, and maybe one of these days you can come visit, if that’s okay with you” dick said suddenly worried about his father’s answer.

“I’d love to Dick. Very much.” He hung up the phone and smiled genuinely in what felt like years of not doing it. He was unaware of someone else looking at him from the other side of the street.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing #titans #titans imagines #titans imagine #titans x reader #netflixs titans #dcu #dc #dcu fanfic #fanfic

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malethirsty · 5 years ago

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Show Off: Norman Reedus

Summary: When the annual bikers fuck competition rolls around, President Norman Reedus finally gets to enter as he’s dating you. You can survive all the norms, but can you both outlast a group of hot bikers?

Warnings: M/M smut, Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!)

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197597489999695872?s=21

In biker culture, the women who take bikers as their partners are called Old Ladies. So when Club President Norman Reedus revealed you as his Old Gentleman, many were surprised, as it changed history. Being a lucrative local stripper, Norman paid you for your services which included a lapdance. You were entranced by the bikers hot looks as he was entranced by you and soon the dance turned into you riding his cock while he groaned, as your ass gripped down on his cock like a vice, begging for more. “Will you be my Old Gentleman?” he asked after he had come, and you had happily accepted. Dating Norman was suspenseful as you knew he would ride the line of death, but everytime he came home, the nerves were replaced by adrenaline, as he fucked you hard until you screamed so loud, the street filled with both your voices.

Over the past 50 years, the club he ran would run this massive event. All the bikers and their partners would gather, the men on their bikes, the partners all naked. They would strip the bikers and then fuck them on the bikes in a Battle Royale contest, last to cum was given a big tanker of beer & in increase from the profits of drugs they put out. Norman had always been ineligable due to having no person to fuck and he hadn’t wanted to use hookers, but that had changed, now he had you, and he craved victory. He had been training you for the past month in a entire manner of ways, stringing you up on the bed so you couldn’t use your hands to bring him to orgasm, slow fucks, even stretching your ass out with dildos “Now that I’ve got you Y/N, I’m not fucking losing this.” He said as he pounded into you on the eve of the event. He had foregone the usual methods as he wanted one big long fuck before he had to concentrate. You went up to kiss him, whispering in his ear “We’re gonna make history together tomorrow, they’re not gonna know what’s hit em.” Norman groaned, shooting his load inside you.

Preparations in the afternoon began for the event, with the various bikers arriving with their partners, mainly girls, some even going the distance and hiring hookers. However when you & Norman crossed into the room, everyone fell silent. “Yeah that’s right, I’ve got a partner this year. The rules say partner, not woman, so I can have my man, he’s eligible.” Of course, someone had to be a pain, and it happened to be prospect Sammie “So you couldn’t get a pussy sir, so you got the next best thing, a fag” whilst it would sound like a compliment, his vitriol in his voice was apparent. Norman looked furious but you handled the situation. You walked over sweetly to Sammie. CRACK! You punched him square in the mouth, him falling backwards, blood pouring from his mouth “So you all know Norman’s Old Gentleman has a name and it’s not ‘The fag’ it’s Y/N and I will be punching anyone else who keeps calling me ‘The Fag’.” Anyone who had homophobic words to say stayed out of your way, and you were able to spend some time with Norman and the other girls, whom all actually seemed really nice, though this was probably because they had a man who didn’t want them on their back, which gave more space to breathe.

As evening crept over, the club members headed outside to the various bikes, whilst you undressed with the girls. As you headed outside, you heard the announcement of the competition “This contest is The 50th Sexual Stamina Roulette! Partners, you must walk up to your assorted biker, strip him & then ride him until he cums. You are eliminated if your biker partner cums before your other bikers, once eliminated you must sit on the bench, if you interfere, you will be penalized. Last couple standing wins the vat of beer and an increased cut in the drug running profits! LET’S BEGIN!” You grinned as you strolled over to Norman, it was showtime.

You removed his leather vest, his pants following. You were pleased he didn’t wear anything underneath “I couldn’t have a layer come between me and you baby boy” he grinned at you. With everyone hard enough and ready, you got on the bike & positioned yourself above Norman’s cock. Sinking down onto it, you moaned out loud, Norman echoing it. You both heard the klaxon which signified everyone was now fucking, the air filled with broken moans and squelching cocks and pussies, or in your case sharp claps as Norman fucked your ass. You intended to go gently, rather than rapidly fast fucking, having already stretched yourself out prior to, and also take brief breaks so you could keep yourself together. Others hadn’t thought this was a game of sexual prowess, they figured ‘Get in and nut.’ They didn’t care as long as they came, but blowing first in front of nine other buff alpha men would be very humbling to say the least.

Eventually others started to fall short with moans of ‘Oh shit.’ ‘Fuck’ and ‘Damn It’ littering the air as people were eliminated. After five eliminations the other couples, realizing what was keeping you in, tried to implement the same tactics, but you did the opposite of them, knowing it would confuse them and one wrong move and they would blow. “Oh fuck Y/N, we’re walking a damn landmine here.” Norman groaned as he fucked deep into you “Keep calm babe. As long as we can keep ourselves together, we’ll be fine. You’ll get to use me freely later.” Norman grinned, the prospect of fucking twice in one day was hot. As he kept with you, another two couples yelled out as they spilled over.

“Fuck baby, if we keep going at the rate we’ve been, we’re gonna win!” Norman groaned, you running your hands down his chest hair, making him go faster. Next to you, the last biker was being ridden, the woman riding on top groaning out “Oh yes daddy, you’re gonna make me squirt.” “I think that’s our cue to go fast babe.” You grabbed onto Norman “If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about women is that if they say that, they’re not gonna. She’s trying to trip us up, go back to slow daddy, until he cums.” Norman nodded “Yes sir.” he responded in a smart ass way. As it turns out, of all the men with no thought for a woman’s orgasm, there were some that were in biker clubs, as the man next to you did not realize you had slowed, as he proceeded to fuck her even harder “Fuck, squirt for me babe. I’m gonna fucking cum!” As if on cue, he bellowed as he shot his load, his woman not even close to squirting but acted as if she had, it was unfortunate for her and many others that they had to, but right now, you didn’t care, you & Norman had won.

“Our winners are Norman & Y/N, but to claim victory they must cum!” Hearing the announcement you grinned down at Norman “Well done President, now fuck me till I can’t walk tomorrow.” “Your wish is my command” he started to thrust forwards rougher, going back to the rhythm of the man you knew, sweat dripping from both of you, Norman groaning as you licked sweat off his face. “You’re so damn kinky baby boy, I fuckin love it!” He started to go faster, you moaning outwardly “Fuck Norm- I’m gonna cum!” “Keep going baby, ride my cock” Norman growled, you screaming as you shot your load all over yourself & Norman. “Fuck man, that was hot. Now I’m gonna cum!” “Yeah daddy, shoot your load in my ass! I’m yours President Daddy Norman Reedus!!” That did it, Norman shoved forwards one last time & moaned in pleasure as he shot his load exactly where you asked him “You’re my bitch boy, take it all!”. Whoops and cheers sounded from the onlookers but Norman was too blissed out to care as he fell onto you “Well done babe, you won.” “Thanks to you, I’m so fucking lucky I have you Y/N, I love you so fucking much.” Norman leaned up to give you a kiss, you wrapping your hands on your biker daddy.

#Norman Reedus #Male Reader #Norman Reedus x Male Reader #Norman Reedus Smut

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dreamcatcherfication · 5 years ago

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The Queens of London Part 1 - You Are Cordially Invited

So seeing as I’ve got a ton of free time, I’ve got this multi-chapter fic planned out. Depending on how it’s received, we’ll see how often the chapters will come out. Requests are always open and comments are gladly accepted. This is vaguely reminiscent of Ocean’s 11, even though I’ve never seen the movie. Unedited, I apologize for any grammatical errors. Kat-centric fic.

Writing Masterpost

Summary: When Katherine Howard received a strange invitation from a group of women known as “The Queens”, she had no idea what to think. The last thing she expected was to be thrown into the center of a dangerous conspiracy against some douchebag named Henry. But by now Kat’s learned that she really has no idea what to expect anymore.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Harrassment

To say it started out as a normal day would be an accurate, if boring, way to start her story. But if Kat was honest, that’s exactly how it began. The sky was slightly overcast, typical for London weather, and people were out and about on their daily strolls. As for Kat, she was sitting on her stool on the side of the cobblestone street with an old worn guitar in her lap and an open case in front of her. A few stray pounds were in the case, but not nearly as much as Kat was hoping for.

She knew what to expect after almost a year of live music. On a normal day, she would make about 50 pounds, give or take ten if it was a good or bad day. Not the best profession, but for a barely high school grad student, she had learned not to complain. Besides, she got to see plenty of interesting faces everyday, sometimes even familiar ones.

One of the faces she would see everyday was Jane Seymour, wealthy millionaire known for being one of those most charitable people in London. She even had a hospital in construction currently to be named the Seymour hospital. Every person in London knew her name, but oftentimes they wouldn’t notice her when she was out in public wearing some discount Urban Outfitters clothes. Jane never noticed Kat and her guitar, she was far too busy on a phone call with someone or frantically texting her employees every morning. But Kat always noticed her walking by at the same time - 7: 55 AM.

It was a shame really, that the millionaire never noticed Kat. The musician had always looked up to Jane as a role model, and soon enough seeing her every morning became the highlight of Kat’s day. It was much easier to put on a bright face after spotting her idol. It helped her get through the harder parts of the day, especially with the men who would come around.

Those were some of the worst days when Kat had to pack up and leave early. It was usually the same man, Francis, who would cat-call her and make lewd comments. Sometimes a passerby would tell him off, but he always came back. To be honest, he frightened Kat, especially when it came to her history with guys like him. But she couldn’t afford to give up street performing because of one sleazy guy. She needed the money, and that was that.

It was like any other day, not particularly good or bad. Francis hadn’t shown up, which was a plus, but there weren’t too many pounds she had racked up with her singing. Sighing, Kat realized she’d have to make packaged ramen for dinner again.

Finishing her final song, Kat watched as a woman with sunglasses dropped something into her case. “Thank you,” Kat said softly and smiled at the woman, but the woman had already turned around and started walking away. Kat frowned but didn’t think much of it, going into her case to count up her pounds. She was shocked to see a white envelope sitting on top of the pounds, bright and perfectly sealed. It hit Kat that the woman who has just been there probably dropped it by accident, so she stood up frantically and called, “Miss?” Unfortunately, the woman was long gone, nowhere in sight.

Something on the note caught Kat’s eye causing her to freeze in place. The letter had written in cursive at the top Katherine with a thin pen. The ink looked almost fake with how perfect it was on the page. Reaching her hand in to grab the envelope, Kat jerked her hand back before she could grab it. It didn’t make sense to her. Why would this woman drop a letter for her but not stick around to make sure she read it?

A shadow fell over her and Kat jumped up, afraid it might be Francis. Instead, it was just a cloud covering the Sun, reminding her that it was almost evening. Packing her guitar into its case, Kat hurriedly made her way back to her studio. It was a small studio on the edge of London, and Kat was pretty sure her landlord was a drug dealer, but after avoiding him for long enough, he had given up on her. The studio was tiny, the size of one room with a wall split down the middle. The bathroom was next to the bedroom (if it could be classified as one) where they were split from the living room/kitchen by half of a wall. The bathroom had only a shower curtain concealing it from the bedroom, and the kitchen could only be defined as separate from the living room because of the tiny, moldy couch placed in the center.

Setting the guitar case down on the floor of her bedroom, Kat opened it up and took out her guitar. She pocketed all the pounds to be counted later until all that was left was the envelope. Shakily pulling it out, Kat held her breath. Opening it felt like a disservice, ruining the perfectly sealed letter, but Kat found herself tearing it open as curiosity bit its icy jaws into her.

The note was folded into three sections, although it seemed relatively short in itself.

Katherine,

We hope this note finds you in good health and that your music work has been treating you well. We hate to skip so quickly past to pleasantries, but we must ask for your assistance. While we can’t say much in this letter, we know about your connections. And right now, we can really use them. Henry has wronged all of us, and you… we can’t even imagine.

We can’t say much more but we’re having a meeting. Great Newport Street, the building with the under construction sign, tonight at 11 PM sharp. All of us will be there, and we hope to see you too. If everything goes to plan, this will be more than beneficial to you, we’re sure. After all, Henry’s been making sure we’re all barely scraping by. With him gone, you’ll be richer than you ever thought. We know that’s why you’re in all of this.

We won’t blame you if you don’t show up, but we could use someone like you.

Best of luck with business,

The Queens

Dropping the letter to the ground, Katherine suddenly felt as if she had just been targeted by the mafia. Was that what was happening? It was too outlandish to be a business offer, that was for sure. And it sounded awfully shady, whatever the “Queens” were offering her. And why her? Why Katherine Howard, the nobody, the invisible girl?

So many questions sped through Kat’s mind as she tried to process the letter. How did they even know who she was? The one thing that kept coming back to her was the name Henry. Kat had never met anyone named Henry, yet the note referred to him as if Kat would know exactly who they were talking about.

The most worrying part of it all, Kat realized, was that she had already made up her mind. Without realizing it, Kat knew she would be going to that meeting and figuring out what was going on. Maybe it was her unbridled curiosity, or maybe it was her desperate need for the promised money so she could finally eat something other than old ramen, but Kat was sure. Silently, she prayed that these mysterious “Queens” were serial killers targeting her as she jotted down the address on her arm.

It was a serious risk, going to some random location, but Kat kept murmuring to herself, “It’s either this, or another pack of ramen.” It was that reassurance that got her to push through in the cold night air. She was bundled up in her definition of winter clothes even though it was the middle of fall. The night air was much colder than she wanted to admit, but Kat didn’t own much more than a coat and a scarf to keep her warm. The streets were practically empty, the occasional sound of a car rumbling by reminding Kat that she was still in London.

Reaching her destination, Kat checked her watch to make sure she was on time. 11:02 PM it read. “It’s probably fine, right?” The building in question looked like a theatre, but the windows were covered up with wood and masking tape. A sign on the front door read Under Construction, confirming that Kat was in the right place.

Slowly pushing open the door, Kat stepped inside the foyer, the door giving a light jingle as it moved. “You’re late,” came a voice from the dark, startling Kat. She jumped and whirled around to find whoever had just spoken.

A few paces away stood a tall, well dressed woman with blonde hair. She looked serious, but not angry, as she glanced Kat up and down. “No matter, at least you’re here.” She ushered Kat forward and led her toward the back of the building. There was a flight of stairs leading downwards into the basement, and Kat couldn’t help the knot of anxiety that built up in her stomach as she walked to what very well could be her death. She suddenly felt stupid for thinking this could possibly turn out well.

At the bottom of the steps was a door, and the woman leading Kat opened it and pushed her through. On the other side sat eight women at a round table, all of them turning their heads to see who had entered. “Ah Joan, looks like our guest has finally arrived,” spoke one of the women. Katherine whipped her head to look at the speaker and had to restrain herself from gasping. On the left side of the table sat Jane Seymour, her eyes tuned on Kat and a small smile on her face. She was dressed in more formal wear than Kat usually saw her with, but it was still the same woman.

Finally, recognition set in as Kat surveyed the room. Next to Jane was Catherine de Aragon, the CEO of Aragon News, one of the most successful news outlets in London. On Aragon’s left was Catherine Parr, a world renowned journalist and author, and an associate of Aragon News. Continuing from there was Anne Boleyn, one of the most wealthy bar owners in London. Every bar Kat had ever passed almost always had a Boleyn sign, marking that it belonged to the wealthy entrepreneur. On the other side of Anne was a famous face, Anna von Cleves, a famous fashion designer from Germany who came to London and revolutionized the fashion industry. Completing the circle were three other women Kat had never seen before, similar to the woman Jane referred to as Joan. The first woman had darker skin and was clearly of Spanish descent, with her curly locks framing her face. The next one looked young, only a couple years older than Kat herself, but her fingers were nimble and her eyes looked experienced. The final woman was wearing a smirk, her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail to show off her smooth, well made up face.

It took all of Kat’s willpower not to openly gasp and start freaking out. These women acted as if they knew her, so all she could do was attempt to play it cool. Joan nodded to Jane’s statement and turned back to Kat. “Queens, meet Katherine Brandon. Brandon, meet the Queens. I think we all have a lot to discuss.”

Kat’s eyes went wide. Brandon? Her brain yelled in confusion. Brandon? Unintentionally, Kat murmured under her breath, “Oh snickerdoodles,” as she was led to a seat surrounded by nine powerful and influential women. This was definitely not how she was expecting her day to turn out.

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creativestalkerrs · 6 years ago

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The Female Spider-Man; Part One (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary; after years of fighting, Peter becomes aware that there is another one like him, and goes on to meet them.

Warning; some FFH spoilers, swearing, sexual themes

Word Count; 1.9K

A/N; I think this just might be my first series

“What do you mean there is another one of me?” Peter asked completely dumbfounded. Happy rolled his eyes, not wanting to explain everything again.

“Yes… There is. We never saw a case like this before. Usually, it’s within another universe, but they seem to be in ours… You could use there help, whoever they are,” Happy suggested. “They seem to be hiding out in Californa,” Happy looked at the screen, Peter standing up.

“Do you have any leads on who this person is? I… I don’t want to trust something, especially after Mysterio. What if that happens again Happy?” Peter crossed his arms across his chest, as he looked down at his shoes.

“Use your Peter tingle, make your own judgment. You’re a smart kid, Peter. Just maybe meet them first before anything. This could be huge, a multi-verse,” Happy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at Happy and knew maybe this could be something great. Peter went to the window and looked out, seeing New York’s skylines.

“When can I get to Californa then?” Peter asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Happy smiled. “Pack your stuff and I’ll meet you at the house at 9 o’clock,” Happy spoke, Peter, turning around.

“I’ll see you at 9,”

Peter’s mind was racing. How could there be another like him on this earth? And why hasn’t he heard about them until now? The flight to LA was short and sweet, considering he got a private lift from one of Tony’s guys. Happy sent him an address that could be it, but he had no name or face. Peter just had to use that tingle of his to figure it out. With no leads and a 50/50 chance of having the right address, Peter was lost in LA.

Peter checked in to his hotel room, hoping that he could do some research on this ‘other Spider-Man,’ and to see if any news about them has surfaced, but it was a dead end. What kind of Spider-Man is this? Peter spent all night searching and searching, it was useless. What if this other Spider-Man didn’t even exist, then why waste all this time looking?

The lights of the hotel room turned off. Peter jumped and tried to turn them on again, they were out. The TV turned on to static and the words Have you tried _____? Peter’s eyes narrowed, looking at the words again, he couldn’t read the rest of the words. The TV turned off and the lights turned on again. What did the last part read? Fuck! Peter could sense something was off. Peter sighed as he lay on his bed. It was late and he should eat and then sleep. But Peter couldn’t get that weird feeling to go away. He should try the address. He saw it was close by to the hotel room.

Peter walked down the street, looking at the lights. LA was way different from Queens. The walk to this address was beyond beautiful it was by the beach. The ocean waves hitting the shore made Peter be at ease. The breeze cooled his skin.

He walked down the driveway, the house was huge, unexpecting that. The front door’s light was on and Peter knocked on the door, praying it could be it. The hair on his neck stood up as he heard footsteps on the other side. The door opened to see a tallish woman, in only a gray matching bra and underwear and a silk pink robe with flowers and knee socks. Peter took a double take of the women as she leaned on the door frame. He wasn’t sure what to ask. He didn’t have a name for him to give.

“Yes?” The women asked, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Peter, arms across her chest. Peter looked inside the house and back at him. She knew he was coming. “Peter Parker?” She questioned with a smirk. “Who sent you?” She slowly asked.

“H-Happy Hogan,” Peter stuttered.

“What I expected. You’re Spider-Man?” She asked.

“Um,” Peter didn’t know how to respond.

“Did you get my message on the TV? Come in, we don’t want anyone listening in on our conversation,” The women said, pulling Peter inside the hose and slamming the door. “Are you Spider-Man?”

“Yes. And who are you?” Peter asked, looking around the house. Peter then looking at a record that was framed and then her face. She looked extremely familiar.

“Y/N Y/L/N… I’ve finally found you… another one like me,” Y/N smiled as she went up to Peter.

“Y/N as in the singer?” He asked. She smiled.

“Yes… I make sure to lay low. How old are you Peter? Spider-Man seems to be around 16 I could say… I have no idea. Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable, I’ll tell you everything,”

“I’m 18… I’ll be 19 soon,”

“Hmp, same,” Y/N smiled as she went into the kitchen, Peter following. “Do you want Coke, Pepsi or?” Y/N asked, leaning into the fridge looking at Peter.

“Um. Coke,” Peter said. He was admiring her kitchen. Holy shit she was loaded. Y/N gave Peter a can. “So… are you from this earth?” Peter asked as Y/N shut the fridge.

“Yes. I’m from this earth… I got bitten by a spider, in fact, it was the same spider as yours,”

“How do you know all this?” Peter asked sitting down on the couch as Y/N joined him.

“I see you… I’ve seen everything you have done as Spider-Man… we’re connected Peter, you and I… but I never knew you… I have no idea if that makes sense because we’re different, yet, very much the same,” Y/N trailed off. Peter leaned in, confused, yet intrigued.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked. Y/N sighed.

“What color are your webs?” Y/N asked.

“White, why?”

“Mine come out black… and I have these other sets of powers,” Y/N took a deep breath and shot her webs at the wall behind Peter. Peter flinched back as he saw the black goop hit the wall. Peter never has seen anything like it. The goop landed on one of Y/N record, he got up and looked at it, at both the goop and the record. The stuff was just like his, but black.

“That’s odd…” He said.

“Sometimes it can melt stuff… like it’s acid or something but that’s only if I’m in danger and I used it twice… when Mysterio was after me,” Peter turned around, his eyebrows raised.

“How do you know Mysterio?” Peter asked. Y/N’s eyes away from Peter. She tried to think.

“He… he was my uncle… tried to kill me twice… had to use it twice. Didn’t hurt him at all… treated everyone as if he was the hero… you killed him two years ago… I thank you. I wanted to be like you, Peter. A hero. I wanted to use my powers but I never could. He knew too much, it was my fault…” Y/N began to hyperventilate, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry Peter if he hurt you. I tried to stop him but I couldn’t. He wanted to be the next Iron Man and he wanted you to rule with him because I couldn’t… Thank god he didn’t know about my other ability,” Y/N took a deep breathe trying her best to keep it together. Peter sat next to her, unsure of what to say. Everything started to make sense. “I’m sorry if he hurt you, Peter, I’m sorry…” Y/N whispered as she looked at Peter who frowned.

“Hey… Everything will be fine. This is all new to me too. I didn’t realize there was another one of me till yesterday, it’s good to know someone understands,” Peter was still skeptical but that tingle reassured him that she wasn’t lying. “What is your other ability?” Peter asked. Y/N pulled her hair back and signed.

“Promise you won’t freak out?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing scares me anymore, I saw a bunch of crazy stuff… Fought a purple alien guy… went to space… Yea, I think whatever you’ll show me won’t freak me out too much,” Peter rambled as Y/N laughed.

“I can… shapeshift into things…” Y/N shut her eyes tightly, her body shaking. Peter saw her veins in her arms pop out, her nose bleeding with black goop, simpler to her webs. There Peter saw a pretty girl, changing into something or someone else. Y/N begins to scream, but trying her best to be quite so no one in her neighborhood could hear her. Peter began to see himself. His jaw dropped. Y/N fell on the floor, but it wasn’t Y/N from a minute ago. Peter rushed over to the body and rolled it over. Peter was looking at Peter.

“What the hell?” Peter asked, helping her or him or whatever Y/N was now, up. Y/N stretched her back out and cracked her neck. She looked in the mirror and saw herself, now an 18-year-old boy with her similar powers.

“How do I look?” Y/N asked, her voice relatively staying the same, but a bit of Peter’s shinning throw. Peter wasn’t sure how to respond, seeing himself as someone else.

“Just… just like me,” Peter whispered.

“This power can be useful… If I shapeshift into another superhero, I can have their powers for a short amount of times… but I lose mine, expect to shift back. So If I wanted to be… let’s say, Mysterio,” Y/N then shifts back into herself and the same process as before began to play, but with more ease. “I have to go as myself then to Mysterio, but it becomes easier. The first shift always fucking sucks,” Y/N said as Mysterio. Peter wanted to jump at her, to attack, but before he could, Y/N changed back to herself. “Don’t make me shift into Mysterio again…” Y/N groaned, sitting down. “Endless you need me too, of course,” Y/N giving him a small smile.

“That’s such a useful power… How come I didn’t get that ability?” Peter complained, sitting back next to her.

“Did I mention I test tube baby?” Y/N casually mentioned. “I had this power before our power, but since I have our power it’s easier to shift,” Y/N smiled. “What are you doing tonight?” Y/N asked.

“This and going back to my hotel room. Why?”

“You know… since I’m famous, want to join me in a party?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know if I can… Mysterio really screwed me over with that stunt 2 years ago and I’m still kind of recovering. What if people want to attack me still?” Peter asked. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Love, this is LA, not Queens. It will be fun, it’s just some of my friends. I’ll make sure you’ll be safe. I have my Spidey sense on you anyways. If someone messes with a fellow Spider… person, I will let them eat shit,” Y/N smiled with a twinkle in her eyes.

Peter signed. “Fine, I will go. I don’t have any party LA clothes,” Peter complained.

“Keep forgetting I’m rich. That’s not a problem,” Y/N winked.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker au #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagi #tom holland angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland imagine

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lon3lynation · 5 years ago

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Promise To Never Let Go (Day 6: Titanic Clexa AU)

Can also be read on AO3.

“Where to, Miss?”

“To the stars.”

Dull blue eyes gazed helplessly above at the bright and magnificent night sky that was accompanied by twinkling stars. They could be seen reflecting off the water. It was beautiful, but it only felt like a cruel tease the more she stared and tuned out her surroundings. More than anything, Clarke yearned for Lexa to take them to the stars. Instead, her body was frozen stiff on top of a door while floating in the Atlantic ocean. Tears begged to be wept, but her tear ducts have long since frozen any that attempted to fall.

“When this ship docks, I’m getting off with you.”

“This is crazy.”

“I know. It doesn’t make any sense. That’s why I trust it.”

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again in fear that they would freeze in position. Slowly, she rolled her cold and numb body to the side, shuddering at the feel of her icy skin peeling from the wood. It was unnerving how gradually the calm and silent overtook the night. Panicked screams, uncontrollable prayers, and desperate calling of names had filled the air while the Titanic continued to sink deeper into the ocean. She had also found herself screaming, shouting with all her might, and love for Lexa earlier.

People all around her were splashing frantically, knowing that death would soon claim them all, but one had tried to introduce her to end sooner by nearly drowning her when she first surfaced. A stranger tried to use her body outfitted with a lifejacket to stay afloat, but she struggled and fought desperately to break his hold. She hit him with a swift jab that knocked him loose and quickly took the chance to escape. Lexa would have been proud to have seen it. It was then she realized that Lexa wasn’t anywhere to be found. She yelled and swam searching for Lexa while shoving past passengers until eventually noticing the bodies going silent and still. Her body and mind screamed at her that she would perish too if she continued searching.

“I love you. Lexa.”

“No, don’t say your good-byes, Clarke. Don’t you give up. Don’t do it.”

“We’re going down!”

“Clarke, listen to me. Listen. Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you. And I’m thankful, Clarke. I’m thankful. You must do me this honor... promise me you will survive... that you will never give up... no matter what happens... no matter how hopeless... promise me now, and never let go of that promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never let go.”

“I promise. I will never let go, Lexa. I’ll never let go.”

“Okay, good. Now take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water. The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don’t let go of my hand. We’re gonna make it, Clarke. Trust me.”

“I trust you. I jump, you jump, remember?”

Clarke wanted to hold onto her promise to Lexa, but she was supposed to be able to hold onto Lexa too. She had her, she was hers with a future together on the horizon, and they were going to make it. Unfortunately, that hope dwindled as soon as they hit the water, she had held tightly onto Lexa’s hand until something had yanked her beloved from her grip and forced her to the surface alone. All she could do was scream and search for her until even that was taken from her. Her voice turned hoarse and weak, her body slowed and grew numb from the 28 degrees ocean. Reluctantly her search changed to searching for something to keep her out of the open water. Luckily, she had found the door that was presently keeping her afloat.

However, Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to feel lucky. She had somehow lost Lexa in the depths of the ocean, not knowing if she was clinging to life like Clarke was or if her body was among the floating corpses somewhere around her unseen. She wanted to hold out hope, but the quiet was eating away at her, and her body was so, so, so cold. The longer she was left on top of the door without rescue, her aching heart would surely come to an unending halt. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open and hold out, but Clarke was no longer even sure if she had reason to keep trying. She felt so weak, so close to embracing her icy death, and hopeful she’ll somehow see Lexa again.

Clarke was so grateful that she had taken her chance to tell Lexa that she loves her. At least Lexa had known her love, that her heart would forever be cherished in life, and even in death. It was simply unfair they didn't have more time together. What they had was so new and so beautiful. She would have never believed that she could genuinely fall in love with someone, another woman at that, in just a few days. Lexa turned what seemed like an impossibility into a possibility and swept Clarke off her feet.

“Lexa,” she weakly whispered to the stars above, her frozen lips cracking when they parted.

All hope, will, and spirit were leaving her stranded, just like how the lifeboats in the distance had neglected to come to their rescue when they called out to them. She doesn’t know how long it has been since she and Lexa entered the water but it felt like an eternity when it was perhaps closer to 40 minutes. It appeared that no one was coming to their rescue, and if they were, it would be too late by then to find any survivors. With the dead silence surrounding her, it left her wondering if she was the only one left clinging to life. It was foolish of her to still be hanging on when everyone’s spirits have already departed them. Embracing death, no matter if she wanted it or not, felt like her last and only option.

She just needed to let go.

Taking one last look at the night sky, Clarke let her eyes flutter closed.

A moment later, a light flared across the water, silhouetting the bobbing corpses in between the boat and Clarke. It traveled past her motionless form before moving on. The boat is 50 feet away, and moving past her to continue their search.

Clarke’s eyes snapped open.

Voices.

She heard distorted and hollow voices. Blearily vision sought the sound out and tracked a lifeboat that was stretching the distance between them. At first, she couldn't believe her eyes and simply watched the boat move further away. Clarke had accepted that she wasn’t going to get rescued in time, and the boat passed her by. She wanted to close her eyes again and wait for death to claim her. The will to let go was right there, and all she had to do was let it happen.

But...

Lexa made her promise to never let go.

If she let go now, wouldn’t that be breaking her promise to her?

She couldn’t let herself break it. She couldn’t disappoint Lexa.

Lexa would want her to keep fighting. Seeing that she was still breathing and there was a real chance of a rescue, she couldn’t just turn away from it. Clarke promised that no matter what happens or how hopeless that she would live on.

She needed to live. For Lexa.

“Hel--” her voice faltered. “Help!” Clarke struggled to move because her voice was failing her. The boat had rowed dreadfully out of her view. “Over here!” Knowing there was no other choice, Clarke plunged herself into the icy water, her hair tugging painfully from where it had frozen to the door. She swam to where a Chief Officer with a whistle was nearby and clutch onto his body. Taking the whistle from his frozen mouth, she gathered all the strength that was left in her body and blew the whistle. The sound struck across the still water.

Clarke keeps blowing and doesn’t stop until the whistle is taken from her stiff lips when her rescuers reached down and hauled her into the boat. Finally rescued and safe, Clarke fell unconscious with dreams of Lexa and that the unsinkable Titanic never actually sunk.

_________________________

When Clarke woke up, she found herself and about 700 other survivors aboard the RMS Carpathia. The crew gave her dry clothes and had her evaluated by 1 of their 3 doctors. She was told that she had reached Stage 3 of Hypothermia and that she likely would have died if the rescue had arrived any later than they had. It didn’t surprise her and knew she should consider it a miracle that she was alive. They swaddled her in a blanket, fed her, and offered her hot tea.

She slowly roamed around the steamliner, her eyes taking in the pale faces of survivors around her, hoping to see familiar, knowledgeable green eyes.

She didn’t.

Eventually, Clarke settled on the deck with her hot beverage to watch the rising morning sun and the last of the rescued lifeboats being hoisted up. They all just survived something horrible together, and yet Clarke felt utterly alone. Falling into a trance with an emotionless face, Clarke silently mourned.

“Is that you, Clarke?” a different familiar voice shook her out of it.

Finn.

Clarke clenched her jaw at the sight of Finn looking her over. She looked like a refuge with matted hair hanging over her eyes.

“Yes, I lived. How awkward, huh?”

“Clarke, your mother and I have been looking for you.”

Holding a hand up, Clarke put a stop to whatever Finn had in mind to say next. She didn’t want to hear it. He was the reason why Lexa was prevented from getting on a lifeboat with her. They could have been both saved if he had just put aside his hurt ego and let Lexa join her.

“Please don’t. Shut up and just listen. From this moment, you do not exist for me, nor I for you. You shall not see me again. And you will not attempt to find me. Is this in any way unclear to you?”

Clarke ignored the way Finn looked at her with big sad eyes. He received a lethal glare in return.

“What do I tell your mother?”

Clarke hesitated before replying with a weary sigh.

“Tell her I died with the Titanic.”

Turning around to face the rail again, Clarke dismissed Finn.

“Goodbye, Finn.”

Finn reluctantly left, leaving her to replay her the past few days in her head again.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. I need your name.”

Clarke looked back to see an Officer holding a list of all the names of the survivors.

“Um, Clarke Griffin. Actually, make that Woods. Clarke Woods.”

The man looked her over curiously before nodding and writing the name down.

“I think I just noted down your sister’s name a bit ago. Have you seen to her?”

“Sister? I don’t have a sister.”

“I know you said Woods, but Griffin? Lexa Griffin? Figured there was a relation there, my apologies, Miss.”

Clarke froze on the spot. It was wishful thinking. It had to be. Lexa had been lost to the sea. Right? But what were the chances that there was a survivor named Lexa Griffin?

“Lexa Griffin? Where did you leave her? Tell me!”

“Oh, I last saw her resting in one of the Officer’s cabins that were converted.”

Clarke dropped her nearly empty cup of tea to rush to where the cabins were situated below deck. It takes a few long, tense minutes to push past the crowd filled with crew and survivors to get to the correct level. Her heart was beating like crazy, and her body was protesting her rapid movements. She was still weak and needed to take it easy while she recovered. There was a possibility that Lexa had survived though, and she desperately needed to see if her sudden hope was senseless or not. She slammed into an Officer’s room, scanning the bleak faces of a few passengers and not finding the features she wanted to see. Quietly apologizing, she backed out the room and rushed into the next converted room.

Not her.

Not… wait.

Clarke’s eyes settled on a slim figure sitting on the edge of a bed, hunched over with blankets wrapped around their whole body. Clarke shook as she slowly inched forward, both hopeful and scared to look upon the hooded person’s face. Swallowing deeply, Clarke stood before the clearly defeated form of a woman and let herself say her beloved’s name out loud.

“Lexa?”

The huddled form flinched at her voice before slowly raising a trembling hand to push back the blanket and finally revealing those beautiful familiar eyes Clarke has wished to witness again.

“Oh my god, Lexa!”

Lexa’s face slackened in shock at the sight of Clarke.

“Clarke?” she rasped, her devastation quickly turned into euphoria as she jumped up to embrace Clarke tightly.

“It's you! It’s really you.” Clarke cried heartily before tucking her face into the curve of Lexa’s neck. “I thought I lost you.”

“Clarke, Clarke, Clarke,” Lexa repeated, nearly crushing Clarke as she attempted to pull her deeper into her. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, Lexa. We’re both here. We made it.”

“I-I believed you were gone, Clarke. I was so lost without you.”

“Me too. God, I thought I wasn’t going to make it and hoped I’d get to see you again in the afterlife.” Clarke sighed, pecking the cool skin beneath her lips before leaning back to gaze at Lexa’s face. “I remembered my promise to you, though. I didn’t let go.”

Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut when Lexa moved her hands to hold her face, her fingers slightly trembling against her cheeks. She couldn’t believe that she was feeling Lexa’s touch again. It was real. She didn’t have to go on without Lexa.

“Thank you for keeping your promise. I’m so proud of you for surviving. I didn’t know if you were alive or not but I didn’t think it was fair of me if I didn’t silently promise the same to you. I didn’t want to be without you, but I fought to live for you, Clarke.” Lexa gulped as tears filled her eyes, threatening to fall. “I love you. Oh, do I love you so.”

Clarke felt something crack within her and found herself weeping into Lexa’s chest.

“I love you, I love you,” she cried softly before feeling Lexa maneuver them to sit on the mattress.

Lexa adjusted the blankets around them until they were sharing them and their body heat as she pressed firmly against Clarke. She leaned down and press soothing kisses to Clarke’s head, rubbing her hand along the slant of her back. Lexa let her own tears fall as they both processed and expressed every feeling that overtook their tired bodies. It was hard to accept how close they came to losing each other and that for hours, they truly believed that death had separated them. It was taxing to instantly go from feeling such loss, grief to relief, and elation. It would take a little time to fully process everything to let the pain that they were still feeling fade.

Minutes later, when the tears slowly came to a stop, Clarke tilted her head and lovingly captured Lexa’s lips into a kiss. Simply forgetting and uncaring that there were others in the room, Lexa melted into Clarke and exchanged soft kisses to refamiliarize themselves with each other again. Clarke moved to thread her fingers into Lexa’s unruly curls that still felt a bit damp and was careful to not accidentally tug on any knots. They breathed each other in, letting their newfound love be felt with each press of their lips. Lexa eventually swiped her tongue along Clarke’s upper lip, shifting to deepen the kiss. Clarke eagerly parted her lips for Lexa’s tongue, passionately letting their tongues reunite. Lexa panted while Clarke moaned quietly, their hands tightening their hold on each other.

Someone obnoxiously cleared their throat.

They're reluctant to break apart, but they do to take each other in again with their eyes. Clarke licked her lips, twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers before choosing to ask what has been on her mind.

“Lexa, what had happened? When we were underwater, I held on, but then it felt like some force just yanked you away.”

Lexa turned her head away, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. Clarke lifted a hand to tilt her face back toward her. She didn’t want those green eyes hidden away from her.

“Those suspenders you adore so much, they nearly killed me.”

Clarke paused her twirling.

“What do you mean?”

“Somehow they got caught on the stern or the railing. I was being dragged down with the Titanic. That’s what pulled me from you. I panicked for a moment thinking that was really how I was going to go out before remembering I could unclip them from my pants. I didn’t think I was going to get to the surface in time. It was close. By the time I regained my breath, you were nowhere in sight.” Lexa sighed, feeling a bit guilty. “I yelled for you, Clarke. I tried to find you. I’m sorry I failed you.”

“Lexa, no, don’t think that.” Clarke moved to clasped Lexa’s face between her hands, her eyes staring intensely into Lexa’s. “You didn’t fail me. You fought to stay alive and you did. If you hadn’t --” her voice cracked with emotion. “You didn’t fail, and it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad that you’re so stubborn and that you basically told death to go fuck themselves.”

Lexa gasped, pretending to be scandalized, but her amusement shined through.

“What a dirty mouth for a first class lady,” Lexa teasingly smirked. “I think I'm fond of it.”

“You better be. It’s your bad influence that did it, after all.” Clarke joked, leaning in to peck Lexa on the lips. “So, what happened afterward? I had to punch a guy in the face for trying to use me as his personal lifejacket. I ended up finding a door to lay on after I had to quit searching for you.”

“You socked a guy, and I missed it? Damn.” Lexa shook her head, silently fuming that someone tried to drown Clarke. “I had to tell a few people to piss off, especially after I found a broken piece of a staircase to climb onto.” Her eyes turned distant, remembering the people she denied and how she noticed their corpses drifting a small distance away from her location. “They didn’t survive.”

Clarke frowned, her hands moving to grip onto Lexa’s tightly. She knew the horror they had gone through. It would take both of them time to cope with the trauma and the consequences of the sinking.

“You did what you had to do to survive. There is no shame in that.” Clarke soothingly rubbed Lexa’s knuckles. “You’re here with me because of that survival instinct. I know that doesn’t make it feel any better, but you’re not alone. We’re together and we’re going to deal with this together too.”

Lexa inhaled deeply and let it out slowly before giving a short nod.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I want you to.” Clarke smiled. “There’s a future waiting for us. I want it. I want it all with you.”

“They’d said that it may take us 3 days to reach New York.” Lexa moved to stroke Clarke’s chin. “You’re really coming with me.” She murmured to herself, not knowing how she had gotten so lucky to have a girl wanting to share a life filled with adventures with her. “We’ll travel and go to that pier we talked about. Drink cheap beer, go on the rollercoasters, ride horses on the beach, right into the surf.”

“Ride like a man!”

“Yes, do it like men.” Lexa chuckled. “Every morning, we’ll wake up wrapped up in each other, never knowing what the day will offer us, but we’ll find out together.”

“Together. It sounds like a dream.”

“It is until it’s not. We’re going to make it our truth and live to the fullest.” Lexa grinned, alight with enthusiasm for their new lives together. She couldn’t wait to show Clarke everything the world had to offer and more. “I’ll take you the stars and back, Clarke. Everything in between, I’ll give you the entirety of all that I am and offer you all that I can give to you. I love you.”

“You’ve already given me the most precious jewel in the world, your heart. That and your presence is all I’ll ever truly need from you, Lexa. “Clarke gave a tearful smile. “I jump, you jump, right? I love you too.”

They embraced once more, excitement igniting as they eagerly awaited to start their new life together. There were so many things to do and many sights to see. They were also looking forward to learning what their relationship would end up teaching them about each other. It had been only a short number of days since they met, and they wanted to learn everything about each other. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

They would go on to get to know each other completely. They would go on to explore all in between New York and California. They would visit the pier, go on rollercoasters till they got sick, and ride on horses as men do along the beach. It was everything they had promised to each other, and they lived joyously. All the old and new promises they had made were never broken.

They held on forever.

And they never let go.

#clexaweek2020 #clexaweek2020 day 6 #day 6 historical/period drama #clexa #clexa au #titanic au #titanic clexa #clarke x lexa #clexa. clexa week #clexa ao3 #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #i did it #my writing #i made myself cry #i'm so happy to have written this #now someone make me a cover for this pls

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writersplanetarium · 6 years ago

Text

Facade: Halloween

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Aelin smiled, admiring herself in her mirror as she stood in her Halloween costume. It was a deep red dress with a black lace corset Aelin had been breaking in for a few weeks. A black, leather belt with knives was strapped around her waist with another holder around her ankle just above her black heel. She had another knife on her thigh.

Aelin adjusted the crown resting on her head of golden curls that were intricately pinned up. Her lips were adorned in red lipstick that matched the ruby in her crown, and a smokey eye adorned her lids. Elide had brushed on just enough blush to give Aelin a flush that made her look as though she’d been out in the cold.

“You are a miracle worker,” Aelin said, turning to Elide, “Thank you so much for all your help.”

“I’m doing what I love,” she said, “For the people I love.”

“My turn next!” Lysandra said dropping into the seat at Aelin’s vanity in her room where Aelin, Lysandra, Elide, and Nesryn were all getting ready.

“I still can’t believe you convinced Aedion to dress up as Beast,” Aelin chuckled, taking in the beautiful yellow gown Lysandra was wearing.

“He agreed to everything but the mask,” Lysandra replied, a faint laugh in her words.

“It was hell trying to convince Lorcan,” Elide said, “But I cracked him when I told him he could still wear his leather jacket.”

“You two are going to make the cutest 50s biker couple,” Lysandra gushed.

“It didn’t take Sartaq much convincing,” Nesryn said, “In fact, I think he was waiting for it.”

“You two are going as Superman and Wonder Woman, right?” Aelin asked, sitting down on her bed beside Nesryn. Nesryn nodded, picking up the costume where it sat beside her.

“I had decided I wanted to be Wonder Woman first, but we saw the opportunity and took it.” Aelin smiled, but her chest ached slightly as she realized how she was the only one of them without somebody. The pain of losing Sam still followed her every day. She’d wake up alone in a cold bed and reach for a body that wasn’t there. That would never be there.

Aelin didn’t believe in ghosts, but she wished she did. She wished that Sam could still be here somehow. She wished she could see him, even just as a glimpse. She dreamt of him night after night, but it never ended well.

“Did Evangeline decide what she was going as?” Elide asked Lysandra.

“She decided she wanted to be a goddess,” Lysandra replied, “We were at the costume store and she fell in love with an Athena costume. It’s white with a pink ombre at the bottom. Oh, and the sleeves wrap around the arms, and we got her the cutest little gladiator sandals and a crown with the leaves.”

“Oh, that sounds adorable. But won’t she get cold?” Elide asked.

“We won’t be trick or treating for long, and once the party starts the house will be quite warm,” Lysandra said, “I’m just glad we finally found something she liked. She also said something quite interesting.”

“Oh?” Aelin said, turning towards Lysandra, “We like interesting.”

“She said that Rowan might actually wear a costume this year.” Aelin rolled her eyes. Of course she wanted to talk about Rowan.

“That’s not interesting,” Aelin said.

“Oh, so you’d rather talk about how you two shared a bed?” Lysandra challenged.

“You two shared a bed?” Elide asked, her eyes going wide.

“They even cuddled,” Lysandra said. Aelin wished she could forget how it felt to be pressed against him. Wished she could sleep through the night again like she did when he was there. Just without him. Yeah... without him.

“Dorian dropped off Fleetfoot in the middle of the night and I thought someone was breaking into the house, so I called him to come over since Aedion and Lys were away,” Aelin defended, “Evangeline asked him to stay and then she got up early in the morning and practically forced us together.”

“I have pictures that don’t look very forced at all,” Lysandra teased.

“Whatever. Let’s talk about something other than Rowan,” Aelin said.

“You know, Aelin, you and Rowan would like each other if you both gave way just a little. You refuse to see anything but the bad in each other,” Elide said.

“For good reason,” Aelin said.

“I’m just saying, you can’t make your acting look as good as you do when you feel nothing but hatred for each other,” Elide countered.

“The line between love and hate is very, very thin,” Lysandra said, “I’m just waiting it out until they hop to the other side. It’s inevitable, considering how sexy he is.”

“He is not that sexy,” Aelin said.

“Lying to yourself won’t make you feel any better,” Nesryn pointed out, “What is Rowan going as?”

“Evangeline told him he needed to be a warrior,” Aelin said, “I told him if he didn’t I’d egg his house. I’m going to do it either way, but still, it’d make Evangeline happy if he dressed up, so he’d better do it.”

********

It was dark as Rowan walked up to Lysandra and Aedion’s house. He could hear the music inside the house from the driveway. Despite the fact that he didn’t want to give in to Aelin’s demands, he’d dressed up as a warrior just like Evangeline had asked, poofy clothes and all. The bow across his back wasn’t the most comfortable, nor was the quiver at his side, but he could drown it out.

He hadn’t dressed up for Halloween since he’d been with Lyria. He had never particularly been interested in Halloween before, but she’d loved it, so he dressed up for her. He knew now, though, that if he didn’t participate he’d be dragged out of his house by his friends, which he’d rather avoid. And he knew if he didn’t dress up, Aelin wasn’t joking about egging his house.

Rowan sighed before heading in through the front door. Halloween music was playing and fog rolled over the floor. Cobwebs and bats and pumpkins hung all over the walls and ceiling. The house was full of people Rowan recognized both personally and vaguely.

“Rowan! You made it!” Evangeline said, running at him, launching herself at him. Rowan narrowly managed to catch her. “And you dressed up like I said!”

“Yes, I did,” Rowan said.

“Well we have punch in the kitchen, alcohol in the fridge, and Aedion is making burgers and hot dogs out on the patio. Plus there’s candy everywhere.” Rowan cracked a small smile.

“Good, I’m starving,” Rowan said, setting her down.

“Do you like my costume?” Evangeline asked, spinning around.

“It’s nice,” Rowan said, “Are you Greek?”

“I’m a Greek goddess! Athena. She’s the smart one,” Evangeline replied.

“Just like you,” Rowan said, patting her head. Evangeline gave him a grin, saying a quick goodbye as she spotted one of her friends.

“Rowan, hey!” Lysandra said. Rowan nodded to the woman. “I’m so glad you made it. And you’re wearing a costume! You look so nice.”

“As do you,” Rowan said, “Belle?”

“Yep,” she said, twirling in her yellow dress, “Aedion’s Beast. You should see Aelin’s costume. She looks great. Actually, she needed to see you. She’s downstairs.” Rowan huffed.

“What does she need?” Lysandra shrugged.

“No idea. But you’d better hurry.” Lysandra headed off towards the backyard and Rowan glanced around. He grabbed some candy before heading downstairs to see Aelin.

Downstairs was Lysandra and Aedion had their games set up. Ping pong table. Air hockey table. Pool table. A flat-screen for video games.

Aelin was at the pool table and Rowan stuttered in his step when he saw her. She was intricately dressed exactly as she’d said. She was dressed to the nines, assassin princess clearly coming through in the outfit. Rowan shook his head, dismissing the thoughts running through his head.

She was playing against Dorian and clearly winning as she knocked a striped ball into a pocket, leaving only two striped balls compared to Dorian’s five solids. Dorian looked up, a lazy grin on his face when he saw Rowan.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” Dorian said. Rowan gave a nod of acknowledgment and Aelin turned from where she was taking her shot.

“You need something?” Aelin asked.

“Lysandra said you did,” Rowan retorted.

“I don’t need anything.”

“Then why did Lysandra say you did?” Rowan asked.

“Why do you think?” Dorian chuckled.

“I’m going to kill her,” Aelin mumbled as she took her shot, pocketing the last of her balls.

“Oh, come on,” Dorian said, putting up his pool stick.

“Wha-? You’re done already?” Aelin asked.

“You’ve bested me twice,” Dorian said, brushing his hand down her arm, “So you’ll have to find someone else’s butt to kick. Maybe Rowan will play against you. He’s quite good.” Dorian looked over at Rowan.

“Sure,” Rowan said, “If only so I can beat her ass.”

“You wanna bet?” She challenged.

“Yes, actually,” Rowan said, “A hundred bucks says if I start, you won’t even get a single shot in.”

“Two hundred bucks says I will, and I’ll win.”

“Deal,” Rowan said, grabbing a stick. Rowan watched as Aelin pulled out the balls from the pockets, setting them up on the table.

Aelin turned to Rowan as she finished, giving him a simmering smile as she tossed him the cue ball.

“Prove yourself, Buzzard.”

“I will, Princess.” She gave him a narrowed look as he set down the cue ball. He took a breath as he went to shoot, letting it go as he hit the cue ball. It flew across the red velvet, cracking against the other balls. A solid ball made it into the pocket and Rowan cast Aelin a sly, mocking grin. He kept going, pocketing ball after ball, watching with great satisfaction as she got more and more nervous. He was about to take his final, winning shot when Fenrys came up behind him, hitting his back.

“Rowan, you’re here! And in a costume!” Rowan watched as his shot went wonky and Aelin’s face lit up.

“Fenrys!”

“Fenrys!” Aelin shouted with joy, while Rowan shouted in irritation. He spun back towards Aelin. “That didn’t count.”

“Oh it so did,” Aelin laughed.

“He threw off my shot!”

“That’s not my problem,” Aelin said. Rowan turned to Fenrys with a glare.

“You owe me two hundred bucks if I lose,” Rowan bit out.

“When you lose,” Aelin said, pocketing two balls in one shot. Rowan gestured to Aelin, and Fenrys held up his hands.

“Sorry, dude, sorry. I was just taking in the garb. You look great. You never usually dress up.”

“Evangeline asked me to,” Rowan said, folding his arms, “And then Aelin said she’d egg my house if I didn’t.”

“That’s my girl,” Fenrys said, making Aelin grin.

“You’re about to make me two hundred bucks richer, Fen.”

“You don’t feel at all hindered by the fact that you’re only winning because I was sabotaged?” Rowan asked.

“I will never pass up a chance to take money from you, Buzzard,” Aelin said, pocketing another ball.

“You’ll owe me,” Rowan said again to Fenrys. Rowan watched as ball after ball was pocketed by Aelin. Then it was down to just the eight ball. Aelin winked at him just before she made her shot, sending anger and desire down his spine in an infuriating mix.

The ball went right in. Rowan groaned, burying his face in his hands as Aelin cheered.

“Double or nothing, same bet,” Rowan said.

“No way,” Aelin chuckled, “Pay up, Buzzard.” Rowan turned his gaze to Fenrys who has been watching the game unfold.

“I’m not paying. You made the bet. You should have made a stipulation.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, reluctantly pulling two hundred dollars out of his wallet.

“Why do you just have two hundred dollars on you?” Aelin asked.

“I always carry three hundred on me at all times in case of emergencies,” Rowan said, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “I need food. And something to drink.” Aelin pulled out her phone, checking it.

“Aedion said the food should be done at seven and it’s six fifty so it should be close.”

“Oh nice,” Fenrys said, “I’m starving.”

“When we get back I’m going to rob you of all you’ve got,” Aelin said, slapping Rowan on the back violently hard as they put the sticks away. It was definitely going to leave a mark.

“Gods, Aelin!” He elbowed her in the ribs in rebuttal.

“Hey!”

“Now, now, you’re both pretty,” Fenrys said, wrapping an arm around Aelin’s shoulders. Aelin and Rowan both shook their heads.

They went upstairs to eat and drink and have fun, but Rowan couldn’t help but spend most of the time stewing. Aelin was the last person he wanted to give two hundred dollars to.

“Are you brooding because Aelin totally beat your ass at pool?” Lorcan asked, leaning against the wall beside Rowan.

“She didn’t beat my ass, Fenrys sabotaged me. I would have won.”

“Sure.” Rowan glared at the man.

“I was down to the eight ball.”

“And you can’t know if you would have won, really,” Lorcan said, looking out over the crowd until he spotted Elide and gave a barely perceptible smile.

“You’ve played against me. You know I would have won,” Rowan said.

“Maybe. But there’s no proof.” Rowan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “She snagged two hundred off of you. That’s pretty sad.”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not wearing an entire bottle of hair gel,” Rowan quipped, taking in Lorcan’s fifties bikers look. Like a guy straight out of Grease.

“No, you’ve just got long, silky locks,” Lorcan said dryly. Rowan rolled his eyes. He’d had his food and drinks and he was ready to get out and collapse into bed.

“Am I allowed to go home yet?”

“Nope. If Evangeline hasn’t gone to bed yet, you can’t either.” Rowan let out a sigh. “You should try and win your money back.”

“She said no,” Rowan huffed, “Because she knows if I had a genuine chance, she couldn’t beat me.”

Rowan spotted Aelin across the room, laughing, having a good time, and he hated her for it. He hated that she had to pull at his heart the way she did. There was just something about her that he couldn’t shake.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Lorcan asked.

“Who? Like what?” Rowan asked.

“Aelin. Like that.” Lorcan gestured to Rowan’s face.

“I’m not looking at her any way.”

“Yes you are,” Lorcan said, “I don’t know what it means, but you’re looking at her in a way that is not hatred.”

“It is hatred.”

“It’s not hatred.”

“It i-”

"Time for shots!” Lysandra said, handing out shots to Lorcan and Rowan. And that sounded like a very good idea to Rowan.

Shot after shot went down and Rowan drank until he was sure he was drunk. Until his mind was too blurred to think. Then he was finally allowed to go home, but he didn’t want to just go home. He was angry and confused and he wanted revenge on Aelin simply for existing within the same space as him.

So he went into his house, grabbed his eggs and toilet paper and he went outside. He went to Aelin’s house. As he stood, drunk, in her driveway, slight panic raced through him as her front door opened. And there she stood, multiple cartons of eggs in her hands, clearly drunk as well.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” Rowan retorted.

“I was going to egg your house,” Aelin admitted.

“You said that you wouldn’t if I wore the stupid costume!”

“But you have no reason at all to egg my house!”

“Other than you being a bitch and wrongfully taking my money?” Rowan retorted.

“I won fair and square according to our rules!”

“You cheated!” She glared and opened her egg carton, throwing an egg at him. It missed Rowan by miles and he laughed at her.

“You missed, Princess!”

“Shut the hell up, you buzzard!” She threw another egg, splattering it at his feet. Now it was Rowan’s turn to rebut. He threw an egg at her, intending to his her square in the chest, but he went high, hitting her in the face instead, which didn’t upset him one bit. As she wiped the egg from her face, a deep glare settled over her features.

Suddenly they were caught in an egg fight. Unfairly, Aelin had more eggs than he did, but he was a much better shot, even drunk. She landed about six actually on him from three dozen and he landed eight from one dozen. When they ran out of eggs, he chucked the toilet paper at her house, making her jaw drop.

“Hey!”

“Take that!” Rowan said. Before he could register what was happening, Aelin was running at him. She tackled him to the ground, making him hit the ground with severe force. He groaned from the hit, throwing Aelin off him, climbing over her. She shoved him then, knocking him off her. They tumbled on her lawn, rolling in eggshells and remains of the eggs.

“You’re insane!” Aelin yelled.

“And you aren’t?” He retorted, finally pinning her down by her wrists, both of them breathing hard.

“I’m as sane as I need to be,” she said, blowing a piece of her hair out of her face that had fallen down, “And I’m sending you the bill for the cleaning on this outfit.”

“I’m not paying it. I already was forced to give you two hundred. You don’t get any more,” Rowan huffed.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Aelin asked, her hazy eyes softening, “You’ve had it out for me since the day you moved in.”

“Is it not obvious?” Rowan asked, “You’re loud and obnoxious and arrogant. You act like everyone is below you. You lost your fiancee and yet you walk around every single day like it doesn’t even bother you. Are you really that heartless? Does it not tear you apart inside?”

“You don’t know shit,” Aelin spat, a glare coming back over her face as she roughly shoved him off of her, “Don’t you ever talk about it again or I swear to the gods I’ll make you regret the day you were born. Though you’re so pathetic, I wouldn’t doubt you already regret it, huh? Cause I’m not the only one pretending to be okay, am I?”

“Shut up,” Rowan growled, forcing himself to his feet.

“Get the hell off my lawn,” she seethed, heading back into her house. Rowan shouted a few obscenities at her as she walked away, watching as she went back inside, flipping him off before slamming the door.

Rowan huffed and went back to his house, angrily stripping out of his clothes before spending a long, long time in the shower. He was pruned as he tumbled into bed, only falling asleep because of all the alcohol in his system.

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