#I think you have to surround yourself with different voices in life to be able to learn and grow and she's clearly not willing to do that

[bratbarzal]

Hey I know you’re way over speaking about this and you can ignore if you want to I just need to get it off my chest cos this whole Brynn situation is still so raw to me.

So she blocked me today. A few of my friends too and it seems like some other people who I follow or am moots with who spoke up about the whole drama. And I know it shouldn’t bother me but I didn’t do anything wrong? I just reblogged some stuff at the time and answered an anon I think but her friend blocked me too and I just get really uncomfortable feeling like I’m the one in the wrong.

Like she comes back and is posting the same old stuff and active in the tags and I get that she apologized but like? IDK jumping straight back into her bullshit and ignoring any real criticism is just so weird to me? And seeing how people are so accepting of her and quick to start sending her asks and pictures and content makes me sad? IDK I don’t get that sort of response to anything I post no matter how hard I try and it just gets to me sometimes I think. Like it doesn’t matter what she does she still has this power.

Sorry for bringing this to you I just don’t know how else to express my thoughts and I remember you responding to something similar ♥️

if someone wants to live within a vacuum of their own blissful ignorance to their actions there’s not much anyone can really do to stop it hahaha

I get that it’s upsetting to think you’ve been blocked for no reason by someone but at the end of the day she can block whoever she wants just as much as you can

my personal opinion on it is that she has no interest in the accountability she claims or she would have reached out to people who she upset (not talking about myself I never knew her and had her blocked anyway so pls don’t think I’m taking this personally or inserting myself I’m just answering an ask but about people I know were her mutuals or her friends and who did speak out and ended up being blocked), and like I said the other day, claiming to want peace and love and rainbows and ignoring the ways she hurt and continues to hurt those specific people is hypocritical and disrespectful

I don’t understand why she’d cause such a stir to come back so quick and block half the community and only engage with people who enable her but I obviously just deal with life different and I’m not in her head hahaha like I also said I do genuinely hope there’s people still in her life who are willing to tell her right from wrong and hold her to account bc I think everybody needs that - I’m sure there is and I’m sure they’re doing so privately bc that’s how friendship works lol but yeah her public actions aren’t indicative of her actually growing and holding herself accountable for what she did but that’s not my business atp

it probably will sort of suck to see her back at her old actions so quick and getting engagement but if people fall for it all that’s on them - you can’t compare yourself to someone who is so intent on doing things the wrong way if that makes sense, they’re always gonna be able to sneak their way up because they have no regard for the consequences of their actions and that’s the difference between you and them! there's a gross sort of manipulative vibe about calling anyone who speaks on it a bully when she refuses to properly address what she did, how long she did it for, and how much content she stole, and covering that up is what leads to people being quick to forgiveness because they don't know the extent of it - and in some cases, honestly, they just don't care which is sad but what can we do lol

all in all at least you can hopefully just ignore her presence now!! I do understand where you're coming from and I hope you don't think I'm dismissing you in any way but us all staying stuck in this situation isn't healthy and maybe it's for the best she's separating herself

my space on this platform is filled with differing opinions, meaningful conversation and intelligent discourse, and it might not always be peaceful, it might not always be loving, it might not always be what I want to see or hear, but it makes me a better person for being in it and seeing it all - and that's what matters to me - I don't think blocking anybody who dares to speak up about the wrongs she did is creating a similar space for her and that's all I really have to say

I hope you manage to create a space that's the same, and I hope the engagement follows, and you seem like you're going about things the right way on here so I hope you start to see the rewards of that!! I'm sorry you feel like you're in the wrong, you're certainly not, and you're certainly not alone in your feelings, either - I'm always here if you need to talk it out again 💕

[kenmaspuddinghair]

Honorably discharged partially disabled Simon, who swears he is perfectly fine and capable of doing everything himself. But it doesn’t really matter what he thinks says because Price sees differently. He sees the way Simon’s hands shake and how he’s started fidgeting when he’s never done that in the past, he can see Simon’s right side, the side that was crushed under rubble during an attack, he sees it shake and almost falter every time Simon puts even a little bit to much weight on it, but what worry’s Price the most is when Simon zones out and stops paying attention to his surroundings or whatever he’s doing. Not to mention now Simon has to go back and live in civilization, when all he’s known is military life since he was still a teen.

So although Simon claims he’s fine, Price gets him live-in-help, you. You’ve been with him the past week and although he rarely talks you’ve learned a few things. The blinds always need to be fully open unless he’s sleeping, he needs to be able to see what’s happening but it’ll keep him up when he’s trying to sleep, so they close at night. He gets very tense when he can’t see your hands, it hurts you a little to know he doesn’t trust you but you understand. He can't cook at all, unless you prepare food for him he’ll only eat a prepackaged dinner nothing else, of course that isn't healthy so you've started fixing him both breakfast and lunch which he accepts with a grunt but he doesn’t eat till you’ve started. He never takes off his mask around you unless he's eating and even still only up to his nose. Lastly you've noticed something always sparked in his eyes when you called him Simon, you haven't been able to figure out what it is so instead of risking offending him or something, you've stuck to calling him Ghost.

Price chose you for two reasons, you were quite, something he thought Simon would like, he was very wrong. It’s probably the oddest thing about him, he doesn’t like when you're super quiet you've learned it cause he doesn’t know where you are or what you’re planning the other reason is Price hired you is because you were a military nurse for quite a bit so you would always be there for Simon. This was something Simon actually did like it meant he didn’t have to leave his flat just to see a doctor, what he didn’t think about though was the cut and bruise on his face that he would have to remove his balaclava for.

“Okay Ghost” you paused not sure how he would react to having to take his mask off “I-i need you to remove your mask for me please” almost immediately he grunted out a why “because you have a cut and bruise on your face and I need to make sure it’s healing properly” Simon stilled completely for a few seconds before he slowly pulled the balaclava completely off. You took a second looking over his entire face before you brought your hand up inspecting the area “your bruise is completely gone” you whispered slightly surprised it had only been a week, you went to write it down but the moment your hand left his face he spoke up “it’s still ere, jus can’t see it” carefully your brought you hand back to his face to carefully push on his check “does that hurt” “bit” was all he grunted out, you hummed to yourself as you removed your hand and started writing, but had you been looking at him you would have seen the almost pout gracing his face.

Once you finally looked back up, placing your hand on his face “okay let’s finish this quickly” you say looking over his scar “I know I’m not that pretty but you ain’t gotta rush” he said in the quietest voice. You looked up into his eyes quickly only to find them looking back at you with what you could only describe as curiosity mixed with need “Gh-Simon that’s not what I meant, your very beautiful I just thought you wouldn't want me touching or looking at your face any more since you always hide it behind that mask” he never replied to you, just kept staring with that look in his eyes. Finally you peeled your eyes away, finished writing whatever you needed to in your book then you got up and walked away “I’m gonna fix us some lunch, okay Simon?” you called from in the kitchen already, and that’s when Simon managed to place the feeling he had been having every time he saw you. He liked you, he had a crush, a crush! “Simon?” You called again “yeah okay” he called back, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up, not when he thinks he might have found a new purpose in life.

pt 2 here

[farfromharry]

back together and it feels so good

Summary: You and Lando broke up because of his gruelling schedule, but at a friend’s birthday one night the two of you are brought together again and feelings are spilled. Were you always meant to be together?

w/c 3026

Lando Norris x Reader

a/n clearly i cant write small blurbs anymore lol, reblogs are everything <3

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Your breakup with Lando was mutual… sorta. Clashing schedules meant you rarely got time to be together and too many rumours surrounding him were making you paranoid. Lonely and fearful were no way to be in a relationship. So you ended things and promised to stay friends. He understood. His lifestyle was… different than most. He couldn’t expect you to wait for him all the time. It wasn’t fair. There was no bad blood. There was certainly awkward tension though.

You were in the same friend group, so it was no surprise when you had to see each other all the time. The last thing you expected was to still feel that flutter in your chest when you saw him.

Max’s birthday party was the next event coming up and you were dreading it. He had the whole thing planned out. A fancy dinner with the group of you, followed by a night out at one of London’s most prestigious clubs. You didn’t think you, alcohol and a confined space were going to mix well with the ex you were trying to get over.

Obviously you still loved Lando, you were reminded of that every time you saw his face or someone mentioned his name. He was Lando, he was hard not to love. How were you ever supposed to get over him if all you did was spend time with him?

So, your plan was to try and get out of going to Max’s party. It was a shitty thing to do as a friend and he would probably see through you right away, but it was worth a try.

You tried to play the sick card. The morning of the party you called him, preparing yourself to perform the best acting of your life.

He picked up on the 3rd ring. “Hello?”

You sniffled. “Max, hi. Look, bad news.” Cough. Cough. “I’m really ill, I don’t think I’m going to be able to come tonight.”

There was silence on the other end. For a minute you thought he’d hung up on you. You even pulled your phone away from your ear just to check the call was still connected. When you saw his name still staring at you from the screen, your brow furrowed.

“Max?”

He scoffed. “That’s bullshit. You have to get over this fear of seeing him, Y/N. You’re both acting like children.” He was sick and tired of dealing with both of you. Lando was exactly the same, making excuses to try and get out of any event that would include seeing you. He needed you both to get over whatever this was and realise you were hopelessly in love with each other. Being just friends was never going to work. “You were friends before, you can be friends after. Stop being so selfish.”

It was like a slap to the face. You couldn’t be angry that he was talking to you like this because he was right. You sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. So you’re gonna be there?”

“I’ll be there.”

As soon as the call was over she tossed her phone onto her bed and screamed into her pillow. Tonight was going to be painful. It was mid-scream that Max’s words echoed in her head. You’re both acting like children. Had he already spoken to Lando? Was he saying the same thing? The idea that he might be avoiding you hurt your feelings, even if technically you were doing the same thing. God your love life was so fucked up.

Your heart was in your throat walking into the restaurant. You hoped he hadn’t arrived yet so you could have some liquid courage before he got here.

A table full of your friends was easy to spot, especially considering all the balloons decorating the table, probably there just to embarrass Max.

To your joy, the table was Lando-less for now.

Max grinned at the sight of you. You gave him a quick hug and handed off his present, nothing special. “Glad you could make it.” There was a teasing tone to his voice that made you swat his arm when you stepped back.

“Shut up.”

After saying your hellos to all your other friends that had arrived, you took a seat at the opposite side of the table to the birthday boy. And when the waiter came around you ordered the biggest glass of wine they had. Hopefully by the time your ex arrived you’d be tipsy enough to stand it.

When Lando entered, albeit late like normal, your friends cheered, shouting out things relating to his terrible timekeeping. He rolled his eyes, waving them off and moving to say hello to the birthday boy, offering up his gift also. The two hugged and then the younger man scanned the table for an empty chair. Unfortunately for you, it just so happened to be next to you.

You froze, body tensing and eyes darting to Max as if silently asking if this was his doing. He expertly avoided your gaze but the smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know.

Clearly Lando was having the same reaction. He had no idea how he was supposed to spend the entire dinner sitting by your side without making a fool of himself.

He awkwardly cleared his throat, pulling out the chair and taking the seat with a greeting nod to you. “How have you been, Y/N?” That was probably the first time he’d actually spoken your name in months. He liked to avoid the topic of you wherever possible.

You smiled. “Good. You?”

“Yeah, good.”

Things went silent after that. Awkward. Everyone else around you was already stuck in conversation with someone, probably another one of Max’s doings. So your options were to sit in silence or make uncomfortable conversation with your ex. Weirdly, you chose the latter.

“How’s racing going?” You didn’t need him to tell you. You had watched every race since you broke up, like you always did, but you wouldn’t admit that. It was you who broke up with him, because of racing, you couldn’t let him know that you still took an interest in him.

He frowned, but quickly tried to cover it up with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay. Won the first race of the season, doing pretty well.”

“That’s really good.”

Conversation used to flow so easily between you and now everything you said was a dead end. You hated it. It was strange how you can go from being so compatible with someone to not even knowing what to talk about in such a short amount of time. This was your fault. You had messed this whole thing up with him. And sitting here now, you regretted it.

Then the drinks started flowing.

Turns out all it took was a bit of alcohol and you and Lando were back to your old ways. The stories were nostalgic and the inside jokes came back naturally. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed this hard. Why had you ever given this up?

You were so lost in your giggling with him that you didn’t notice your friends packing up with plans to head to the club next.

“You lovebirds coming?” Max teased.

Lando gave him a middle finger and you simply rolled your eyes. At any other time his comment would have made you angry, but right now you were too joyous (from the alcohol) to care about what he was saying. “We’re coming.”

At some point in the club his hand settled on your lower back, just how it used to, and didn’t move for the rest of the night. He wanted you close, to be touching you. When might he ever get this chance again? He spent the whole night glued to your side.

Around 2am you were officially ready to tap out for the night. Drunk, happy and practically overheating, you decided you were ready for bed.

Rather than calling an Uber you made a beeline for Lando, like you used to. He had been on water for a while, a warning from his trainer when he’d mentioned his best friend’s birthday; don’t get too drunk, was the advice he’d been given. The last thing he wanted was a punishment in the form of extra training, so he would respect Jon’s wishes.

Your arms wrapped around his neck when you were close enough. Logically he should have pushed you away. You weren’t together and you were drunk, he was basically taking advantage. But having your arms around him again felt so nice. He had been longing for it ever since the day you broke up. And you were smiling at him, the kind of smile that made his heart race.

“You having fun?” he asked, smiling right back at you as his hands moved to settle on your waist.

He barely heard you hum, but you did. “Tired. Will you take me home?”

There was no way he would have ever been able to resist the puppy eyes you aimed his way. For a second he could have convinced himself that the 2 of you were still together. It was just like old times.

“Of course.”

In your drunken state you had forgotten to consider that he might have wanted to stay longer, that you were ending his night prematurely. But he hadn’t even hesitated. He didn’t think about himself once.

It was only in the car, with you drunkenly mumbling at his side, that he started to think this might have been a bad idea. He was so in love with you and he was somehow supposed to keep that to himself.

You should have known it was a bad idea letting him take you home, but by that point you’d had far too much to drink to care. You wanted someone comfortable to be with you and that’s exactly what he was. Of course being in a confined space with him was going to bring up feelings you were trying so hard to bury.

You found yourself watching him as he drove, something you used to do a lot when you were together. He was handsome like that, pretty. You couldn’t help admiring him.

He had 4 buttons undone on his shirt and the skin looked enticing. His arms were straining the material and his jaw was clenched, probably to keep himself from saying anything stupid in your presence. It was taking everything in him not to make a love confession right now. With the way you looked tonight, the way you tossed your head back when you laughed, how you swayed to the music in the club, he was surprised he hadn’t done it already.

When he parked the car outside your flat it felt all too soon. This was the most time you had spent together one on one in months, even if you were sitting in silence. You didn’t want it to end yet.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?”

He didn’t look at you, he knew if he did there was no way he would be able to say no. He was trying to find the words to say no, but he didn’t want to.

So he didn’t say anything. He switched off the car, silently giving you the answer you craved so much. You smiled.

The pair of you made the walk up to your apartment like you’d done a thousand times. He couldn’t have possibly forgotten the way, it was basically ingrained in his brain. He used to stay here more than his own flat when he was back in London. He always claimed it was more homey— really he just wanted to spend as much time with you as possible before he had to get back to work.

It wasn’t necessary to ask him what he wanted to drink. You already knew.

You poured yourself and him a drink and then set them on the coffee table wordlessly. For a second you hesitated before sitting down. How close was too close? You didn’t want to get in his space or overstep any unspoken boundaries, but where else were you supposed to go?

“You can sit, Y/N. I’m not gonna bite.”

Your face burned. You were being silly. It was just Lando, the same one you had always known.

Sitting next to him in such close proximity, in a quieter environment just sent your brain haywire. It was barely even a conscious decision to launch yourself into his lap and lock your lips with his.

He was caught off guard but he did briefly kiss you back. Until he realised it was breaking his heart to do it. He pulled back, dropping his head. “We should talk about this,” he sighed. He didn’t want to push you away, but he also wasn’t willing to get his heart broken again. He didn’t have it in him to just be here when you wanted him, he needed you to want him all the time. If he couldn’t have you back 100% then he didn’t want you back. He was doing it to save his own feelings.

The look on your face was one of complete rejection. It made his chest ache. But it had to be done. You cleared your throat, awkwardly climbing out of his lap and sitting beside him again.

Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “Why don’t you want to kiss me?”

The dark haired man sighed. “It’s not that. It’s just… I can’t stop loving you,” he confessed, his voice wavering like he was just a breath away from breaking down. “I’m hung up on you, Y/N, and I can’t let you play around with my feelings because you’re drunk and bored.”

The implication that you may be playing with his feelings stung. You hadn’t meant to intentionally hurt him, not tonight anyway. “I’m not.”

He frowned. “You might not think you are, but-“ He ran his hands over his face in exasperation. This wasn’t a conversation either of you should be having when it was late and you were intoxicated. “What happens after tonight? Do we go back to avoiding each other at social gatherings, or keep having awkward conversations once every 3 months that we both want to escape from?”

It was true. He was making all fair points. All things you hadn’t thought about. “I didn’t mean to.” Your voice was so small and you were practically folding in on yourself to make your stature smaller too. “I just wanted to kiss you. Missed you.”

He smiled sadly. “I know. That’s the worst part.”

You were both silent for a little bit. He was worried that he’d upset you and you were thinking over his words. He had been honest with you and you appreciated that, but now you didn’t know what to do. Your thoughts and your feelings were all over the place.

“Do you ever think about if we didn’t break up?” The words spilled out of your mouth without you even thinking. Of course he would have. He was sitting here telling you this was painful for him and yet you were wondering if he thought about you.

He laughed, but there was no amusement in it. “Every day.” There was a longing look in his eyes when he turned his head your way. He needed you to know he meant every word he was saying. “You’re it for me. I don’t know who I am without you. The day you ended it, I, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Maybe you had been selfish, too hasty in your decision to end things. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be his girlfriend and yet you acted as though you couldn’t handle it. Lots of people managed to have successful relationships with his fellow drivers or past drivers, things worked for them. Surely there was a way to make it work, something he had begged you to try before you ended it. The longing that had been building in your chest all these months was only growing stronger as you stood here with him.

When you didn’t say anything but grew visibly emotional, he leaned forward. He waited for any sign of rejection before he took a chance and cupped your face with his large hands. He felt it as you leaned into his touch.

“I love you. I don’t want to keep pretending that I don’t.” He was pouring his heart out to you. How were you ever supposed to just walk away?

“Maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”

His face fell. It felt like his heart was being stomped on. “What?” He didn’t truly believe that you could have just stopped loving him that easily. What you had back then was real, wasn’t it? Or was this just your way of ending things before you got too involved again.

“Lando, I think we should try again.”

By the look on his face he was finding it hard to believe the words that had just left your mouth. “Y/N.” If this was a joke, it sure would be an evil one. He didn’t think you were that cruel.

One of your hands came up to settle over his. “I mean it. I was selfish and you probably deserve better than me after ending things like that.” It was true, but he didn’t think that. He wouldn’t want anyone else. “I love you and I will spend however long it takes to make it up to you.”

That sounded like a pretty good plan to him. He probably shouldn’t give in so easily considering the emotions he’d been going through for the past few months, but how was he ever supposed to say no to you? He never could and he probably never would. He finally cracked a smile. “I’m expecting a hell of a lot of grovelling I’ll have you know.”

Your heart fluttered. “No problem.”

Max was totally gonna take credit for this.

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[miedei]

heyoo🫶 idk if your spencer requests are still open but all I've been able to think about for weeks is s4ep9 spencer being the most adorable nerd when he was warning the women at the club about the serial and them being the reader's friends going back to the reader with like drinks or whatever laughing about "that nerdy loser" at which reader's practically frothing at the mouth asking them "WHERE" and then hardcore flirting with an oblivious (and/or blushing mess) spence to the team's amusement and reader just thinking "need me a pathetic loser like that" (affectionate). im not even sure this makes sense but i just go feral for nerd reid. im really looking forward to reading this and thank you in advance if you do write this🥰

REAL REAL REAL need me a pathetic loser boy

peacocking

spencer gets hit on at the club!!

cw: none i think?? spence is cute and pathetic, r is the kind of flirty i only aspire to be

wc: 1.2k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

The club is busy, lighting dim, the music so loud that you can feel the bass thumping in your chest. It's a stark difference from the brightly-lit bathroom you just emerged from, wearing three new products of makeup courtesy of the drunken friends you've just made.

The crowd is thick, and you can just barely spot your friends, huddled around a hard-won table. You push through people, not bothering to apologise, until you've returned to the group.

You're greeted with whoops and cheers, and a drink is pushed into your hand before you can even sit down. Alcohol-fueled shouts leave their mouths, and you get the distinct feeling that they've somehow had at least two more rounds in the time you've been gone. You can barely focus on one person's speech, the words overlapping in their excitement.

"-and he was, like, the hottest guy I've ever seen!"

"-but he wouldn't take my number because he was working, and-"

"-his friend was pretty awkward though-"

"-like a string bean! Nerdy as hell, think it was his first time in a club-"

"-was like he'd never spoken to a woman before, kept talking about the serial killer-"

You hold up a hand, a little bewildered at the bombardment of information.

"Hold on- serial killer?" One of your friends shakes her head a little, as if clearing her mind.

"Not here, at least they pretty sure. Some creep's been picking up women and killing them at clubs, so there were cops or something here giving out fliers." A flier is thrusted into your hand, a sketch of a guy looking up at you.

"And, one of the cop guys was gorgeous! Adonis, Casanova, whatever the fuck you'd call him, he was so pretty..." She sighs wistfully, pointing across the room to a gaggle of women surrounding a well-built guy holding fliers like the one in your hand.

"The other guy was a little sad, though. Real nerd type."

Another voice butts in. "Yeah! I mean, look at him, I feel a little bad for him, he's clearly striking out and he's here for his job."

The pointing finger shifts, and your attention is directed to a lanky guy standing towards the edges of the crowd, near the bar. He looks nervous, hands fiddling with the stack of fliers he's got, and he doesn't seem to be trying to approach anyone anymore.

He's clearly uncomfortable, skittish in his stance. A nerd to his core, probably never the type to be wading through a crowd like this. He looks a little pathetic.

You've got to have him.

You tell your friends as much, and are met with drunken encouragement, slaps on the back and reminders to use protection. Setting down the flyer and your drink, you steel yourself, smoothing back your hair before walking with purpose across the room.

Once you near him, you slide onto a barstool, flagging down the bartender and pretending not to notice the new love of your life. He's clearly clocked you, and seems to be trying to work up the courage to approach you. Once you've given your order, you decide to make it easier for him.

Turning on the stool, you look up at him, eyes slightly hooded.

"You not having fun? It's a club, you should probably unbutton that shirt a little." It's thrilling, the way his eyes widen and he looks around him, as if you could be speaking to anyone else right now.

"Well, I actually- I'm actually here for my work, so..." His cheeks flush, and you continue with the oblivious act.

"Work? I've got to say, you're gorgeous, but I didn't think you were the type to be hired as a waiter here." You gesture to the scantily-clad waitress that passes you. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, before seemingly remembering something. He rifles through his leather bag, producing a wallet with ID.

"Um, no, I don't work here. I'm- I'm an FBI agent. Doctor Spencer Reid. H-hi." Cute and smart? It's a wonder you haven't slid right off your stool.

"Yeah? And what are you doing here, Doctor Reid? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate being able to ogle you, but this doesn't exactly seem like the place for the FBI to be doing their investigating." You nod your thanks at the bartender, and run your finger along the rim of your glass, eyes locked onto Spencer's.

"Oh! Yeah," He fumbles with the papers in his hand, before holding one out to you. "There's a, um, serial killer? He's in the area, and he's targeting women at clubs like these... so," You lean forward, eyes not wavering from his, relishing in the way Spencer's eyes widen at the motion.

"So?" You prompt.

"So, uh, we're handing out those sketches," His hand, trembling slightly, comes up to point at the flyer in your hand. "and warning women to be on the lookout, not go home with anyone they don't know."

Your lips pinch slightly together, exaggerating your concern. "Oh god, Doctor Reid, that's really scary. What can I do to keep safe?"

His shoulders drop from where they were tensed near his ear, seemingly in his comfort zone here.

"Well, the unsub- the suspect is seeking validation from people, he wants women to chase him. If you meet any guys who try and play hard to get, possibly dressed flaboyantly, stay away and tell the police." You tilt your head questioningly, prompting him to continue.

"He's peacocking. It's a method that some people use to draw attention away from their faces. By using some ornate and distracting piece of clothing, he's diverting attention away from his face." His hands fly around him wildly as he speaks, long fingers wriggling and punctuating his words.

"Uh huh? So this... sweater." Your hand comes up, nearly unconsiously, to fiddle with the woolen texture of the sweater he's got on over his shirt. His hands still midair.

"It's distracting me plenty. Is that peacocking? But I've gotta say, I don't think anything would draw my attention away from that face." His eyes widen further, lips quivering as if he's struggling to come up with words.

"Um, I- I don't think, this isn't- isn't peacocking. This is just... how I dress." Your smirk widens further, hand still twisted in the collar of his sweater. The other agent, the one your friends pointed out earlier, sidles up behind him, but pauses, observing your conversation without butting in. You've only got a little time left.

"Well, I guess you're just that captivating then. You got a pen?" You let go of his clothes, watching him flounder for a second before pulling a pen out of his pocket, holding it out to you wordlessly.

Taking it with a smile, you begin to scribble your number down on the corner of the flyer in your hand.

"I think I'm missing out, if you dress like this every day." You finish writing with a flourish, tearing out your number and tucking it in his pocket along with his pen.

"Call me, okay? Keep me safe from the killer." You pat his shoulder, brushing past him with a smile.

(If the music were any quieter, you would've heard Spencer being interrogated by Derek the moment you leave, and the subsequent call to the rest of the team to inform them of the news. Penelope falls off her chair in excitement.)

[sleepyangelkami]

INDISPOSED d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you always seem to feel more than upset when you're sick. luckily for you, dean's always by your side when you fall ill, no matter the time.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - sick!reader, illness symptoms, flu, dizziness, aches, reader's a little emotional, eating?, crying, mention of reader's lonely past, non-sexual nudity, kinda crybaby!reader, (1) use of y/n, slightly ooc dean, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there's seemingly a tell tale sign of when you're feeling extra poorly, and that's the feeling of water beginning to pool in your waterline.

you couldn't help the dramatics that would take over your body, much less when you find dean sitting in your bedroom, assuring you that it was alright that he'd come home early from his hunt. "you shouldn't have to leave sam alone 'cause of me." you were a sniffling mess at your desk, for two reasons, one being that you were upset and the second being that your nose was so stuffed you could hardly breathe.

"sammy's fine to figure out the rest of this one, baby." dean was sitting on your bed, girly covers and throw pillows surrounding him. "and i don't have to do anything, i'm choosing to be here." dean's voice was all low and soft, the voice he used when you were upset which was seemingly more often than you'd thought.

you heard him shuffle across the room to where you sat on a brown, tattered chair.

he crouched down so he was eye level with you. "come on, sweetheart, you know you're just upset 'cause you feel all sick." his hand was gently tracing your thigh, soothing you from your sniffles. "think you just need to lay down, yeah?"

you mumbled something that he didn't quite catch with a nod.

he waited momentarily but you hadn't made any decision to move. "y/n." your eyes snapped up to meet his. "come lay down."

"okay." was your sheepish response.

dean didn't often call you by your name, he cast it away with all the lovely nicknames he'd picked out for you personally. nobody was baby but his car, until he'd met you. it came so easily, that soft way of loving.

when dean had you finally beneath the blankets, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, half-comforting and half-trying to gauge your temperature.

"where are you going?" your hand reached out for his lower arm.

dean turned down to look at you, a smile softly reaching his lips. "just getting your medication, baby, i'll be back, don't worry." and this time, the kiss pressed against your forehead was purely because he felt like it.

dean was well aware of your inability to take care of yourself. now, he was in no way calling you a nuisance, he just wished you cared for yourself as much as he did. with that being said, he did always love being able to care for you, it was a way that was so different than having to take care of sam his whole life. perhaps it was because this, he wasn't obliged to do, it wasn't expected of him.

he loved taking care of you but if anything were to happen to him... he'd like to know you could take care of yourself, too.

when dean returned to the bedroom, you were passed out asleep against the sheets. the man couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

you were a chatty person, awfully bubbly at times. and dean loved that about you, listening to you babble on about something and when he didn't catch a word he'd ask you to repeat what you said, it was always funny watching as the gears turned in your head, trying to remember.

sometimes you swore you talked so much that you tuned yourself out.

dean didn't though, he listened to every word that spilled from your lips.

but you were chatty with everyone you were close to. god forbid you ever went on a road trip with he and sam.

but with him you could be quiet at times, you still got shy and nervous around him which always made him coo, there was something sweet at the fact you could be so different behind closed doors, so yourself.

and seeing you like this, your lips drew into a pout and pink staining your ill cheeks, well it was rather nice, he thought.

he hated to be so evil as he was to wake you.

"sweetheart." the mere whisper of the name as his hands came down to soothe your arms was enough to have your eyelids peeling open. "sweetheart, c'mon, you gotta take your medicine."

a half-whine fell from your lips as he sat you up against the bed, sitting too so that you could lean yourself against him. dean was suddenly aware of how much hotter your body had gotten. he hadn't been gone long, just a trip to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and the medication he needed, though it'd taken him a while to find it. he had a bad habit of leaving things in strange places and forgetting about it.

he handed you off the capsules and then the glass of water.

"how're you feeling, honey?" the back of his palm pressed against your right cheek then slightly down your top, to your chest. he was like a concerned mother. "you're really hot."

"thanks." you quipped, leaning your hot forehead against his arm and sipping the water he'd given you.

he rolled his eyes at your remark, obviously taking your sickness more seriously than you were. "'m serious, you can't have blankets."

"dean!"

"no."

"dean, 'm cold." you nuzzled yourself further into dean's warm body, a dark grey hoodie coated his form along with black sweatpants, not his usual attire.

"you're not cold." he took your face between his two hands. "you're sick." pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose. you fought the words 'sap' to come from the back of your scratchy throat. "you can have the blankets but i have to take this off, then." you felt him gently pull at the shirt you'd stolen from him, clad on your body.

"deal." you mumbled, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

to make matters worse, you shook your head, thinking it would rid of the dizziness.

"hey, don't do that." he steadied your head before taking the glass out from your hands and placing it on the bedside dresser.

you felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pulling it from your frame. you helped by putting your arms in he air, allowing him to pull it off your body and toss it somewhere on the ground.

"want the tv on?" you nodded your head silently as the man rose from his place on the bed, reaching the tv stand where he picked up the remote and switched it on.

aimlessly, you uttered, "my legs hurt." while sliding back under the pretty covers.

he was busy fidgeting with the buttons on the remote. he never did know how to work your tv properly. "'s just cause your sick, it'll go away, baby."

you huffed at his response, laying your head on the pillows while you pulled the blanket close to you. you were cold but it was that sickly cold where you couldn't tell if it was really a chill or perhaps you were so warm that you felt cold, which didn't make a whole pile of sense.

when dean finally climbed back into the bed, your body practically collapsed on top of him.

he laid with an arm behind his neck and the other trailing shapes across your bare back, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the low tv along with the thumping of his heart.

"are you okay?" you mumbled, voice slick with tiredness. the sickness was weird like that, hitting you suddenly, leaving just as immediately.

dean could have cooed at you. even while you were wrapped up in blankets, sick as a small hospital, you managed to ask him if he was okay.

It was another reason why he liked taking care of you. you took care of each other. "i'm okay."

another hushed mumble. "promise?"

"i promise." he answered honestly, fingers against your skin, moving up and down your back. "get some sleep, 'kay?"

a yawn passed your lips. "okay."

they said sleep was the best medicine, that it cured everything that was curable. well, you weren't sure anyone had said it to you but you just knew that it was said.

you had to beg to differ.

by dinnertime, your temperature was running hot.

earlier was the kind of sick that you could stomach, this was the kind of sick that had you flushed against the headboard of your bed, hands running down your face as you felt your head pound against the back of your eyes.

you could hear dean walk back into the room and you felt guilt soar through your veins.

you knew you were being... difficult to say the least. but you couldn't help it, hot tears gathering at your waterline all over again.

the mattress dipped as dean nudged your arm and you looked up at him with glossy eyes before looking down at the sandwich sitting on a plate in his hands.

"know you said you're not hungry but can you try eat some f'me? 's jam." his tone was all soft and his voice was all quiet. by now, he'd turned off the tv and closed the curtains, noticing how the light had been affecting your eyes. the only light on now was the little lamp sitting on your bedside table so you could actually see your surroundings.

you nodded hesitantly and took the sandwich from him.

dean noticed things about you like nobody else. he very early on found out that you loved jam sandwiches, you loved raspberry jam but you had an awful distaste for strawberry jam so from there on, he never bought strawberry jam on the offhand occurence that you may accidentally use it without looking at the label and get your jam sandwich ruined.

you were halfway through said sandwich when you placed it back on the plate, begging to tear up.

dean immediately took notice of it, taking the plate from you. "wh's wrong, baby? too much?"

you shook your head, sniffling. even the act of shaking your head had you clutching it soon after.

dean tutted, moving your hand away so he could soothe your forehead with a kiss and a gentle movement of his thumb. "poor girl." you heard him mutter under his breath, his brows strewn together in sympathy.

looking up at him, you had those glassy eyes that made his stomach feel almost as nauseous as yours. he didn't have to ask what was troubling you for you answered, anyway, to the silent question behind his eyes. "you're so nice to me."

his heart shattered a little.

it was no supirse that you didn't grow up with much comfort surrounding you and that only got worse as you began to get older. some days, you didn't think you'd ever get the comfort that your body ached for. and then dean winchester walked in, and his one and only goal was to take care of you, was to care for you, was to love you.

so you couldn't help tearing up a little from time to time when you think about the strawberry jam he gave up just for you.

"oh, baby. you're my sweet girl." he pulled you closer to him, putting your forehead against his chest so you could lean your weight on him. "'course 'm nice to you."

he helped you sit on his lap, fully discarding the place wherever his hands could push it to.

then his hands found your body, roaming it with this gentleness yet assertion. you'd put his shirt back on a while ago and discarded the blankets, which he was thankful for. he needed to break your temperature.

you weren't due medication for another two hours and you'd taken all the painkillers you could.

right now, all he could offer was himself.

and that was enough for you.

your arms tightened around his shoulders as you sniffled, tears breaking down your cheeks with a defeated sigh. "hate bein' sick." you uttered, sadness evident in your voice.

"i know, angel, i know." he gently rocked you in his lap, not enough to make your head dizzy but enough to bring you back to the moment, to remind you he was there.

and you stayed like that for seemingly a long time, melting into one another's embrace as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world.

you pressed your flush cheek against the hoodie covering his bare shoulder. the tears eventually dried up and all that was left was your frustrated sighs and mumbles.

"'s okay, sweetheart." he pressed a final kiss to your flushed face. "it'll pass."

and he was by your side as soon as it did.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[mossangelll]

yandere!viktor x reader

machine herald controlling you you to the point of infantilisation⁉️

this is probably on the fringe for a lot of people but the idea of a yandere going to such extremes because they “know what’s best for you” and experiencing such a dehumanising loss of agency scratches an itch for me

tw: forced age regression, uncomfortable dynamics, forced drugging, toxic behaviour

“Do you want the crayons or the storybook, hm?” he holds them up to you in either hand, “Speak up for me. I know my darling can do it.” If you didn’t know any better about him and the horrific things he’s capable of, you would honestly believe the gentle cadence paired with his own unique twang was calming and paternal.

What a sick fuck.

He had that smarmy grin plastered to his face as he watched you in silence, waiting for a response that obviously would never come. After all, he made you a makeshift pacifier that was strapped inside your mouth using soft fabric that also wrapped around your hands. He took your voice and mobility all in one fell swoop and you were helpless against him.

“Aw, poor little thing. You must be tired, eh?” His cold metal hand comes to press against your forehead, thumb easing away the tension etched there.

He hoists you up with ease from where you were sat at your miniature table and carries you over to a large mattress in the corner of your room, what he’s lovingly dubbed your “crib” due to the child-friendly gates surrounding it, and places you amongst the sea of soft plushies and pillows.

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and smooths the stray hairs that have come out out your immaculate hair do, one he did for you, of course. He wants to be a reassuring presence for you but as you lay before him, you feel bile rise in your throat.

The frustration continues to well up and your eyes burn with unshed tears until you can’t hold them back anymore and you sob. But even your cries come out muffled and you’re not able to truly express the anguish that rages inside of you, a freedom that is your birthright.

Why, out of everyone, did you end up with this psycho that treats you like a child?

Viktor lets out a soft gasp and immediately crouches down by your side. “Shh darling, everything will be ok. Seeing you like this makes me very upset, you know.” He coos but the wide smile he doesn’t even bother to hide tells a different story.

He leaves you for just a moment, fearful of what kind of accidents you could get into in his absence, he once said. You rolled your eyes at the time, still fighting for your independence with venomous words and sharp rebuttals, and was promptly punished for your disobedience. It wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t the last, but now you’re more accepting of your position with Viktor’s - better to make your life easier by giving into his unusual desires than be punished again and again and again until you finally learn your lesson.

He comes back with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, cooled just enough that it wouldn’t burn your mouth.

He pulls a vial full of a pale yellow liquid out of his pocket and drops two splashes of it into your drunk before giving it a good stir. He does this in plain view of you, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. Though your untrusting gaze cuts right through him, he continues on not caring about what you think is “moral”. He scoffs at such black and white thinking; you don’t have the knowledge and power he does, so how could you ever care for yourself the way he can?

“Drink up, darling. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.” He doesn’t give you the option of declining as he’s quick to pull out your pacifier and press the mug against your lips, cradling your head forwards so you don’t choke.

The hot chocolate is rich and velvety, smooth and indulgent with a slight edge you’re not quite able to place. Something of his invention, no doubt. Viktor often forbade you from eating too many sweets so this was clearly his way of placating you, baiting you into being on your best behaviour.

It’s unnerving, the way his curious amber eyes stare into yours with no intention of looking away, as if you were a perplexing equation he needed to find the solution to. You were simply something he needed to fix, a small stepping stone that meant nothing in his greater plan to solve humanity’s suffering.

Your head feels cloudy as you slowly fall into a smaller version of yourself, one that’s scared of the dark and cries whenever Viktor leaves.

You hate that he’s reduced you to a shadow of your former self, forcing you to act like a child while you frantically grip onto the disintegrating remnants of your past life. You hate the way your eyes start to flicker as drowsiness engulfs each of your senses - you especially hate feeling like you’re rolling over and simply allowing him do as he pleases, but as much as you wish to protest and scream you’re rendered still by whatever concoction he spiked your drink with.

Either way, he would probably get some depraved enjoyment out of you having a tantrum, since it only goes to prove that you need him to look after you and you’d rather not supply him with more fodder for the fire.

Viktor begins to hum a childhood song from the undercity but when the melody reaches your ears, it’s dampened like your head is submerged deep underwater.

He reaches for your hand which you limply grab onto with what little strength you have left, “There, there, little one. Close your eyes and sleep. You’re safe here.”

And sleep you do.

masterlist

[tuliptears]

"this is so fucking stupid."

with his patience growing increasingly thinner, Katsuki begrudgingly lets you yank him into an empty alley, an idea you'd been mulling over finally coming to life.

"sue me for trying to be romantic."

"we're on a date!" he throws his hands up incredulously, his raucous voice echoing out into the night air.

you hum, after taking a quick scan of your surroundings for any potential peepers, "consider this a perk for taking me out."

There are a few mumblings on his end, maybe a couple of curses, but other than that, no complaints are heard.

"give me a second." thrusting an arm up towards the underside of a nearby fire escape, a thin string of webbing shoots out from your wrist and hits the rusted metal with a muffled 'thwing!'.

as you move upwards, you readjust your grip and then carefully toss your legs forward with a few kicks, flipping yourself with ease.

there's a slight strain in your core, signifying that you are definitely going to feel this in the morning.

once you're able to find your balance and grapple both feet as you hang upside down, your hair rains down around you when you right your posture and frame your face.

the familiar sensation of blood rushing to your head creates a slightly uncomfortable pressure as you slide back down towards your agitated boyfriend, who’s pretending as if he didn't just have his arms stretched out to catch you in case you fell.

"how cool was that? I'm pretty sure I qualify for a high-rate circus."

"are you done?”

"yeah, yeah. how about a kiss for your favorite hero?"

he huffs in amusement, "like I'd ever put my lips on that shitty old man."

"a sense of humor, did you purposely hide it from me?”

despite his alleged annoyance, Katsuki carefully cradles both sides of your face, his hands warm from his quirk. 

however, he hesitates.

maybe this was a little too public for his comfort. this was probably a bad idea.

you’re about to tell him to forget about it, that the adrenaline from date night was clouding your judgment, but you realize that he’s gone uncharacteristically quiet.

he’s staring; rather intensely, too.

his gaze is focused, accompanied by a boyishly small smile that only ever shows up when he’s around you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was powerwashing the memory of your face into his brain. he also takes the chance to lightly run his thumb over a fading scar on your cheek you picked up a few weeks ago on patrol; almost as if the gesture would smoothen the slightly raised skin.

sap.

When Katsuki snaps out of whatever trance he’s put himself in, he realizes that you’re staring right back at him, except you’re sporting a more mischievous look.

"I'm not taking you to the hospital if you break your neck." his grumbles are met with loud smacks as you pucker your lips at him, to which he rolls his eyes. 

the kiss is a little awkward, having to focus on keeping your balance dampens the experience for you by a smidge. his nose digs into your cheek and your chin is too close to his eye for comfort.

you grow to like it when he loosens up, your lips are so soft that he instinctively nibbles on them and draws out a hushed sigh from you. 

gravity might be working differently against both of you, but it helps pull you in closer. there's a pleasantly sweet clash from the ice cream you both indulged in an hour prior. 

Katsuki’s hold on you keeps you grounded as he grudgingly pulls away, breathless from having been lost in the moment.

"I knew you'd be into something nerdy like that," you smile triumphantly up at the blushing blonde, who wordlessly glares in return, "a total win in my book."

he snuffs out your light-hearted teasing with another kiss.

[streetlamp-amber]

don’t leave

tommy shelby x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: domestic violence, typical peaky blinders violence, mentions of blood NOTES: takes place after season one. i might have gone a little ooc with tommy by the end #sorrynotsorry. i’m also thinking of making a part 2 to this. maybe. i don’t know.

“Oh, come on! I’m harmless!” You cried in defence as you watched two men tie your wrists then your ankles to the chair you were shoved in.

The last man of the trio observed you, taking a drag from his cigarette before throwing it on the floor. “You shot me. Twice.” He said, monotonously.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at you and you felt your breath hitch in your throat at their intensity. You quickly recollected yourself, hoping he hadn’t noticed the little slip up in your facade.

He had.

“It was an honest mistake,” you shrugged your shoulders. “I thought you were someone else. Everyone knows not to shoot at Tommy Shelby.”

The two men who were occupied with tying you down stepped out of the room once they were done, leaving you alone with the most notorious gangster in Birmingham. You didn't really know where you were, probably one of the Peaky Blinders’ warehouses if you had to bet on it, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared. But, nothing could be worse than being with the man you were hiding from, so you found some solace in that thought.

“And who did you think I was?” Tommy asked you.

“No one important,” you brushed off, turning your head to the left to avoid his stare. Your eyes took in your surroundings, there wasn’t a lot of furniture here you noticed. Par for the chair you were tied to, there was what looked like a desk with another chair in the left corner. No machinery, no crates. The rest of the warehouse was completely empty.

“Eh!” Tommy called for your attention, snapping his fingers in your face. “You shot me twice, I think I deserve to know who you thought I was.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “I didn’t shoot you twice, I shot at you twice. There’s a difference, I didn’t even hit you.”

“Small detail,” Tommy said. “Answer the fucking question.” His patience was beginning to wear thin, very thin.

You gulped. What was the point of avoiding the question? “My fiancé,” you finally answered.

“Your fiancé?” He repeated, trying to keep the confusion out of his tone. “Why would you shoot at your fiancé?”

“Because he’s a vile man that I don’t even want to marry,” you told him. If your wrists weren’t tied to the chair, you would’ve crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Can you untie me now? You know I’m not a threat to you.”

“Does he hit you? Is that why you’re running from him?” Tommy asked, ignoring your request.

“Amongst other things,” you mumbled, head hanging low so you could avoid his stare by keeping your eyes on your lap.

“’Amongst other things’,” he repeated your words to himself. “What does that mean? Is he a threat for the people of Small Heath?” He didn't want some low life fuck to come mess up the order of things on his territory.

“Probably, I don’t know,” you admitted, scrunching your eyes closed before looking back up at Tommy. His face was much closer now, maybe five inches separated the tips of your noses as he crouched down with his hands on his knees to be at a closer level to you. “All I know is my brother was in debt to the Billy Boys and promised my hand in marriage to one of those fucks to pay off part of his due.”

“The Billy Boys? Aren’t you a little down south of their territory?”

“Thought I’d be able to hide from them here,” you said. “Until last week, when I saw one of them trying to follow me at the market.”

“And that’s why, two days ago, you shot at me,” Tommy put the pieces of your story together.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Shelby, I was just so scared,” your voice started to wobble with emotion, your tough, indifferent persona out of the window. “Them Billy Boys, they’re the spawn of the Devil himself. They’re gonna kill me after they catch me.”

Through your blurry vision, you saw Tommy rise up and sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

“Alright, we can help you,” he finally said after a few minutes.

You felt the tears roll down your cheek, whether they were tears of exhaustion or fear or relief, you didn’t know. “Thank you Mr. Shelby.”

“But it won’t be for free,” he pointed his index finger at you. “You know how to use a gun?”

You hurriedly nodded your head. “Yes, yes I do. I usually don’t miss my shots, I was just afraid when I shot at you.”

“Well thank God you were, eh?” It could’ve been a joke attempt if his tone wasn’t so serious. “It’ll be useful to have a woman to work undercover when needed. And you will tell us everything there is to know about the Billy Boys and your fiancé so we can know who to look out for.”

“Yes Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy crouched down to cut loose the bonds around your wrists and ankles. “My brother John will accompany you to your lodgings so you can fetch your stuff, it’s not safe for you to stay there if they’ve been following you around. You’ll stay with me on Watery Lane, Ada’s room has been vacant ever since she got married.”

“Thank you Mr. Shelby,” you grabbed his hand as you thanked him and Tommy stopped moving, blue eyes staring at the grasp you had on him. You noticed his unease and just as you were about to release his hand, you felt him briefly squeeze your fingers before letting go.

“Come now, I’ve got business to attend to,” he beckoned for you to follow him and it took you a second to come out of your stupor due to everything that has happened in the last fifteen minutes before you rose up from the chair and walked a little behind him, out of the warehouse.

It had been a month since that day in the warehouse. You hadn’t seen your fiancé or any of the Billy Boys since then, but you also rarely went out of the Shelby house (other than to go to the Garrison). And on the rare occasions you did, two Blinders were following close behind you to make sure nothing happened to you. You still felt greatly in debt to Tommy for taking you under the Peaky Blinders’ protection, so instead of doing nothing while you waited for any “undercover mission”, you helped down at the betting den. You liked how lively it was there, you had never worked in a place like that before and the constant rush helped you take your mind off your worrying situation. You hadn’t seen any of the Billy Boys but that didn’t mean they had left town, you knew they wouldn’t back down until they have what they came for: you.

Working in the den for the last month has helped you make your place in the gang. You spent a lot of your days alongside John Shelby and Scudboat, and they would drag you with them to the Garrison where you played drinking games and got drunk like you used to do when you were younger. You now considered the Shelby family your friends. Arthur and John were like the brothers you wished you had, Polly was a nice woman to have around in this environment full of men, and Finn, sweet Finn, his childish innocence might be fading away as time went by, but playing with him was like a breath of fresh air in your stressful life.

Tommy… Well, Tommy was Tommy. He was hard to read, hard to open up, but he was slowly starting to warm up to you. It was a bit awkward at first, living with him, but one night a little after you moved in, the two of you shared a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen, barely speaking any words but both comfortable with the silence. It soon became a part of your daily routine. Some evenings were short, Tommy would only stay for one glass before retreating to bed, while other evenings, when he was in a better mood, you would go through an entire bottle and talk for what seemed like hours. You did most of the talking, but Tommy would share some of his thoughts, maybe even some anecdotes. You loved the stories of his childhood, about all the mischief he, Arthur and John would put the people of Small Heath through. And Tommy, he loved listening to you.

You liked the life you were building for yourself in Birmingham, amongst the Peaky Blinders. You never thought you would one day leave your small village up north, where life was dull and horrible with your brother. Your mother died while giving birth to you and both your father and your brother resented you for that. Your childhood was pretty rough, it wasn’t rare that you’d show up to school with bruises, it didn’t matter who they were from. Then your brother went up north to Glasgow, and for a while it was a blessing, to no longer have to worry about what he would do to you. But three months ago, he came back and with him was Brennan. They dragged you up to Glasgow for your wedding to this man you had never met before, you who had no say in this decision, and were forced to live with him. You couldn’t continue living like this, Brennan had you fearing for your life more than when you lived with your dad and brother. You didn’t stay for more than two weeks in Glasgow before you escaped in the middle of the night and ended up here, in Birmingham.

So to now find yourself, miles away from the nightmare that used to be your life, with the safety of the Peaky Blinders, it allowed you to imagine a future that wasn’t so miserable.

You were walking down to the Garrison once the betting den was closed, talking with Scudboat about the profits you had made that day while Billy Lovelock followed behind the two of you. You were deep in Peaky Blinders territory, less than five metres away from the entrance door to the pub, when a gun shot rang out.

You ducked in fear, hands covering your ears, and when you reopened your eyes that you didn’t know you had closed, you saw Billy laying on the ground out of the corner of your eye.

Oh no, you thought, this is it. They’ve found me.

“Come on! Come on!” Scudboat grabbed your elbow and dragged you towards the Garrison, but you hadn’t made more than three steps before your friend was shot in the leg, crumbling down. “Go inside!” He told you. “You’ll be safer!”

A part of you felt bad for leaving him and Billy out here, wounded and bleeding, but you knew the rest of the Peaky Blinders would be quick to come help them. You started running, which was a bit hard to do with the heels of your shoes sinking in the muddy, uneven ground with every step you took. Your fingers were inches from the door handle when you felt a strong grip on your shoulder pull you back and slam you hard against the wall, knocking your head against it in the process.

“Ya thought ya could run away from me? Eh, lass?” Your fiancé’s stinky breath wafted against your face. You scrunched up your nose in disgust.

“I don’t know, you didn’t find me for a while,” you sassily replied, pressing his buttons, and immediately regretted it. A sharp sting appeared on your left cheek before it registered that he had slapped you.

“Heard ye fucked Thomas Shelby for his protection,” he continued, resting his right forearm over your throat with a slight pressure. “I oughta cut his dick for that,” his left hand held your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, “and you, well, you’re in for a lot more than a beating once we’re out of ‘ere.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you Brennan,” you angrily spat through gritted teeth. “You’re in Peaky Blinders territory, they won’t let you get out of here with me. And I didn’t fuck Tommy Shelby, I didn’t need to fuck no one for protection.”

“What did I tell you about lying?” He screamed in your face, making you flinch.

With your eyes closed, you didn’t see Brennan reeling back his fist to punch you in the face but fortunately, the contact never came.

“HEY!” Scudboat yelled from where he was on the ground, gripping his wound to contain the bleeding. “Get your hands off of her you fuck!”

Brennan turned around to look at who was shouting orders at him. “And who the fuck are ya?!” He let go of you and stalked towards Scudboat, pulling his gun out of his coat.

You had an out. Your fiancé’s attention wasn’t on you. You could escape, find safety in the Garrison, but you knew how Brennan was. You couldn’t leave Scudboat alone, the man had become your friend over the last month and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing he had died because of you.

So you grabbed a shovel laying on the ground a few metres away and right as Brennan pointed his gun at Scudboat, you whacked him behind the head with your weapon, knocking him out right away. “Motherfucker,” you grumbled to the unconscious body and threw the shovel on the ground before kneeling next to Scudboat. “Are you alright?” You asked your friend, your hands hovering over his thigh where his blood kept oozing from the bullet hole.

“I’m fine Y/N, get inside,” Scudboat waved you off.

“What about Billy?” You glanced up to where the strong built man still laid on the ground, also unconscious.

“Don't worry about him, just get inside!” Scudboat shoved you away.

You did as you were told and sprinted to the Garrison. You pushed the door open only to be met with an empty pub. Your wide eyes roamed around the room. This isn't normal, you thought to yourself. There wasn't even a bartender behind the bar! Usually, around this time of the day, almost every seat should've been occupied, beers should’ve been poured, laughter should’ve been heard. But nothing.

You walked towards the snug, where Tommy and his brothers could usually be found, but instead Jimmy McCavern, Callum Maxwell, Kenneth Morrow and Angus Burns were occupying the room, all four of them staring at you with that look in their eyes that made you want to run away as far from them as possible.

“Y/N, so nice of ye to join us,” Jimmy said, his voice sending chills down your back. He looked comfortable in his chair, with his arms crossed over his chest, almost relaxed, but you didn’t let your guard down.

“Where–”

“Where are the Peaky Blinders, ye ask?” He interrupted you. “They’re a wee bit busy right now, I’m afraid it’s only us.”

“Take a seat, darling, go on,” Angus told you, motioning to the empty chair in front of you.

You did as he said, your hands wringing together in your lap. You knew not to become all witty and sarcastic with these men, obeying them was always the best thing to do.

“So, hope ye had yer fun down here with Thomas Shelby,” Jimmy continued, uncrossing his arms to instead rest them in front of him on the table as he leaned closer to you, “because yer days of fun are over. You're coming back to Glasgow with us, married to Brennan like yer brother arranged.”

It was at this moment that you realised you couldn't escape the Billy Boys. You had been so foolish to think you could leave them in the past, that you started imagining a future without Brennan. The Peaky Blinders could not protect you, you had been foolish to think otherwise.

But still, you weren’t going to lose without putting up a fight.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m not marrying Brennan.”

“Ye don’t have a choice lass, yer brother promised yer hand,” Callum said.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You asked angrily, tears pooling in your eyes. “This is not my debt, it’s his! You can kill him for all I care, he never cared about me so why should I care about him!?”

“A deal was made, ye can’t back out of a deal with the Billy Boys,” Kenneth said, his eyes telling you to stop arguing.

“No!” You slammed your hands on the table and stood up. “I’m not going. I’m not marrying Brennan. I refuse. This isn’t my deal!”

“Don't make this worse for ye, lass,” Angus warned you, also standing up.

“Fuck you!” You spat and took off in a run, escaping through the back door of the Garrison.

You knew the four men were on your tail, you could hear their heavy footsteps behind you. You tried to remember the directions Tommy had given you to Jeremiah Jesus’ church as you sprinted down the dirty streets and alleys. He had told you to hide there if you ever needed to, and since Jeremiah didn’t partake in the Peaky Blinders’ activities, the chances he would be there were quite high and, honestly, your last hope to survive.

Gunshots started ringing against the brick walls, luckily for you all the bullets flew past you since none of the four men were able to perfectly aim while running. You turned left at a corner and Jeremiah’s church was finally in your vision field, less than a few blocks down. Jimmy and the others still had yet to turn the corner of the street, so you took this advantage to go down a small alley, knowing it would lead to the back door of the church.

You stumbled in the place of worship, out of breath, and Jeremiah came out from the back office to see what the commotion you had created was about.

“Y/N, are you alright dear?” He asked you, helping you walk inside while your left hand clutched at your chest.

You shook your head ‘no’. “The Billy… The Billy Boys… They found me,” you wheezed out.

Jeremiah’s eyes widened at the urgency of the situation. “Come with me, there’s a trap where you can hide in my office.”

The priest led you to the back, closing his office door behind him before moving the rug behind his desk, revealing a trapdoor. He unlocked the latch and lifted the door. “Hurry, get in,” he waved with his free hand.

You lowered yourself in the hole, sitting down in the small space, and looked back up at Jeremiah.

“Do you have a gun on you?” He asked you.

You shook your head ‘no’. “I was with Scudboat and Billy Lovelock, we were on our way to the Garrison. There was no need for one,” you answered.

Jeremiah motioned for you to hold the door open over your head while he rummaged around his office. “Tommy always keeps a gun in here just in case,” he explained to you as he continued his search. “You can never know when it’ll come in handy around here– Ah! There it is!”

He crouched down and handed you a pistol. “I’ll try to keep them out if they come around. Stay safe.”

You nervously gulped before nodding your head. “You too, Jeremiah.”

The priest smiled, an attempt to make you feel slightly better in the situation you were in, and closed the door above you. You heard him lock the latch and replace the rug above the trap.

You remained there for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds you could hear were your nervous, laboured breaths and the gun slightly shaking in your hands. You were about to start praying – you never really believed in God after everything you had been through, but what better place to turn to Him than in a church – when you heard the door to the office open, followed by the sound of feet walking on the floor. Scared, you held your breath and willed your hands to stop shaking as you got in position, gun pointed up and ready to shoot.

The rug was moved and the latch was unlocked. You could feel the beating of your heart grow faster and faster as the seconds went by. The door was pulled open and, upon seeing the gun pointed at him, Tommy raised one hand up while the other lowered the door on the floor.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, raising his other hand up, showing you that he was no threat. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just me.”

When your brain registered that the face in front of you was the one of Thomas Shelby, you let down your arms and sighed in relief.

“Oh Tommy!” You cried out. You dropped the gun on the ground while you stood up and wrapped your arms around Tommy’s neck, bringing him in an unexpected hug.

Tommy was surprised at first, but Scudboat had told him what happened outside of the Garrison and he had received a phone call from Johnny Dogs informing him that Jimmy McCavern and his goons were in town, so he held you against him, trying to comfort you as best he could.

“You're safe now,” he reassured you, his right hand scrunching your hair as it held your head. “They’re gone now, Jimmy’s gone, Brennan’s gone.”

You pulled away, your eyes red with tears. “What did you do to them?”

“I was able to strike a deal that they simply couldn’t refuse,” Tommy answered, his right hand now cupping your cheek. “They won’t bother you again Y/N, not ever.”

Overcome with a wave of strong emotions, you shocked both Tommy and yourself when you leaned forward and kissed him. It didn’t last more than a second for you pulled back right after, bringing your hands in front of your mouth as you gasped. “I’m so sorry Tommy, I don’t know what–”

“It’s alright,” Tommy interrupted you, shaking his head. “Let’s get you out of there, yeah?”

You nodded your head, still embarrassed of your actions, and picked up the gun before grabbing the hand Tommy held out for you. He helped you out of the trap and closed the door behind you while you stood up and put the gun on Jeremiah’s desk. When you turned around to face Tommy again, you found him mere inches away from you. Your breath hitched in your throat, you had never been this close to him before, except when you first met, when he interrogated you while you were tied up to a chair. You looked up at him, his unreadable icy blue eyes staring right back at you, and he was the one to surprise you by closing the distance between the two of you, his lips finding yours again.

Your eyes fluttered close by themselves as you lost yourself in the kiss, your hands finding their place at the base of his neck while his right hand cupped your cheek and his left one held you flush against him by the waist. It was no secret that Thomas Shelby was pretty to look at, but you never really thought about him in a romantic way before. That being said, there was no bone in your body opposed to kissing him. Actually, it even started up a fire inside you, one that you were too preoccupied to acknowledge right now.

Tommy broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours as you both took some deep breaths. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said with his deep, low voice. “I’m glad they didn’t take you away from me.”

He never told anyone because he wouldn’t even let himself admit it, but Tommy had grown comfortable with your presence in the house. After what Grace did to him, he promised himself he would only focus on the business and his family, but his attachment for you came rather unexpectedly, just like your entrance in his life did. Still, he didn’t want to act on it, whether it was because of fear or because of disinterest in wanting some romantic relationship, he didn’t want to ponder on it too long. But after what happened today, when he heard your fiancé and Jimmy McCavern would try taking you back to Glasgow, he realised he would regret it for the rest of his life if you were gone without him having the chance to pursue anything.

You looked up at him, brushing his nose with yours as you moved your head. “Me too,” you whispered. “Thank you Tommy, for everything.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, brushing your hair with his hand that previously held your waist. “Just, just stay with me. Don’t leave.”

The vulnerability in his voice made you smile, he had never been so open with you before. “I didn’t plan on leaving anyway,” you answered and kissed him again, safe in his arms.

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ stars align. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff and angst

୨ৎ note: Ironically listened to ‘she calls me back’ by noah kahan while writing this, don’t be fooled babe. also listen to i love you, keep that in mind!!! if you catch the astronomy by conan references yes you did. i love you all and you're very welcome in advance <333 not proofread

୨ৎ taglist: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes (ask or comment to be added)

three times you called billie, and one she didn’t pick up. 

you called billie a lot. she was away on tour, so naturally, whenever both of you had a free minute, you’d be calling. if she wasn’t free, you’d be sending her videos and voice messages and photos of whatever you did in your day. at first, sending her a photo of the flowers growing on the footpath on your walk to work had seemed stupid to you, but it started a train of endless photos of mundane things that either of you found beautiful. it was a way of keeping each other up to date on your lives—other than just selfies. it was as if you were there, eating her breakfast with her and watching finneas while he recited a dramatic reenactment of his dream the night before. 

currently, it was nine in the evening in your time zone, and you had shark’s head resting on your chest. with the limited mobility you had with the dog on top of you, you reached for your phone and clicked on billie’s contact. you clicked on the call button, you wanted to facetime her so she could see both her babies.

it didn’t take long for her to pick up, and as soon as her camera had loaded, you saw an extreme close up of her eyes and the tour makeup she was halfway through taking off. “love!” she beamed, propping the camera up on the desk so she didn’t have to hold it. you tilted the camera down to show shark, and she practically squealed. “baby! oh my god, my baby shark.” she pouted as she took in how he had his head resting on your chest and his eyes half open. “that should be me?” 

you giggled, “with me or shark?” 

“both,” billie said as she continued taking off her makeup, you could hear the smile in her voice. “i should be sandwiched in the middle of you.” 

you hummed in agreement, hugging shark closer to him and kissing his forehead before scrunching your nose up. “he stinks.” 

billie rolled her eyes, “you’re so rude to him.” 

a scoff left your lips, “oh please, you’ve said exactly the same thing.”

“he’s my child, so that’s different.”

“actually, he’s my child too. and i think i’m his new favourite.” 

billie gasped with faux horror, “oh, keep lying to yourself.” 

you called billie whenever anything went wrong, when you didn’t know what to do, when you felt like your life was closing in on you. you were sitting on the ground beside your bed, your eyes staring blankly at the wall in front of you as your fingers fiddled together anxiously. you didn’t quite know what you were feeling, nor why you were feeling it, but you were overwhelmed and miserable. nothing seemed to be able to help except for the songs playing through your headphones that magically put everything you felt into words. 

you weren’t sure when the tears had started falling down your cheeks, but they were there. you could feel the cold salty trails down your skin, and you didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. the moonlight was casting a soft light over your room, dancing across your skin in a way that you would have perhaps thought was pretty had you been more aware of your surroundings. 

instead, you were aware of the pounding of your head and the racing of your thoughts, the feeling of your clothes against your skin, and the emptiness inside your head. you felt a level of numbness you hadn’t felt since you were seventeen, and you weren’t sure if anything would fix it. 

But then you thought of your girlfriend. billie. 

somehow, she always knew how to make things better. 

so, with shaky hands, you reached for your phone which had sat discarded on the floor next to you. it was only charged to eleven percent, but that was enough for you to call her. 

you tapped on her contact, calling her. she picked up in record time, her comforting voice filling your ears. “baby? it’s two am, you alright?” 

“mhm.” you hummed. you’d be content to simply sit there and listen to her voice for hours, but you knew you’d have to actually speak at some point—you were the one who’d called, after all. after a long moment, you sighed. “can you come over?” 

“yeah, of course. i’ll be there in ten. want me to stay on the call?”

and you did, but you knew your phone would die and you didn’t have the energy to find the charger, “no, it’s okay.” 

“okay, angel. hold in there, yeah?”

“yeah.”

you called billie whenever anything important happened in your life, such as getting accepted into your new job. you’d quit your old job a few months ago—it just hadn’t felt right. you weren’t happy working there, your boss was an asshole, and with the time and effort you put into it, you were atrociously underpaid. you talked to billie about it, and she assured you that quitting it would be the best. your happiness was both of your priorities, so it wasn’t long after that conversation that you quit. 

getting a new job had been harder than you’d thought—not necessarily because of your qualifications, more because you weren’t sure what would make you truly happy. it took some time, but eventually you found one that you felt would make your inner child giggle and kick her feet. 

you had applied, and then there was nothing left to do but wait. 

wait, and wait, and wait. 

it was hell. you got an interview, and after that, it was more waiting. you didn’t know what to do with yourself, an anxious feeling always sitting at the pit of your stomach. 

after what felt like months of waiting—but was more likely just a week and a half—you got the email. you read one line, and almost screamed, dropping your phone on your foot. 

once you picked your phone up again, you fumbled with it desperately for a moment, shaky hands navigating to billie’s contact. it rang for about thirty seconds before she picked up—upon second thoughts, you realised that she may have been in a meeting, but she always told you to just call her. 

“hi, my love-” billie’s sweet voice came through the phone, and you couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your lips. 

“i got the job.” 

billie squealed, “oh my god, baby! i knew you would, i’m so proud of you!”

an excited giggle fell from your lips, “i was so nervous-”

“but that’s okay, you did it.” 

“couldn’t have done it without you.”

“oh shut up, yes you could. take some credit, darling.”

you opened your mouth to speak again, but she continued. 

“we’re going on a date tonight. to celebrate. our restaurant, yeah?” 

you giggled again, unable to stop the happiness radiating from you, “yeah.” 

“perfect. i’ll book it now-”

you interrupted her before she could continue, “i love you.”

you could hear the smile in her voice when she responded, “i love you too.” 

billie was always the first person you thought of to call. even slumped against the wall drunk in a hallway at a loud, bustling party, she was the one who your fingers gravitated to in your contacts. your vision was slightly blurred, your mind unfocused, but somehow you knew to call her. maybe your brain had drifted to the other calls, maybe it was just a feeling. 

either way, that feeling was wrong. 

the phone rang twice before going straight to her voicemail. “hey, this is billie. leave a message. love you!”

you frowned, your head falling back against the wall behind you. why did the 'love you' feel so bittersweet?

“hey, bils. i miss you. a lot. call me back?” 

you didn’t know why you knew she wouldn’t. she wouldn’t call you back, she wouldn’t text you, she certainly wouldn’t be picking you up from this hell of a party. 

in fact, it was likely that you and billie would never call again. 

it was then that you remembered: billie wasn’t yours to call, and she hadn’t been in a long time. 

billie wasn’t your person any more, the two of you had fallen apart and she was no longer your shoulder to cry on, your partner in crime, your bird of a feather. she was no longer the one who could make you laugh louder than anybody else. she was no longer the person who would pick you up when you were drunk off your face and laugh at the way you slurred your words before falling asleep at your side. 

billie didn’t pick up, and it would be unfair to expect her to. 

maybe you needed to stop trying to force the stars to align when she had already found a new one, and that love burned brighter than yours ever could.

[seriesxwriting]

Hi! I have an idea, maybe you'll like it. The reader was born in the 19th century. She was from a rich family. She loved Damon. Her father made an agreement with Giuseppe and you were remembered as representatives of rich families. Damon couldn't go against his father, but he immediately had a negative attitude towards her because of that marriage was settled without his opinion. Her task was only to give birth to a child. When Catherine appears, she does not want to see an obstacle in the form of a legitimate wife. Emily casts a spell that everyone thinks the Reader is dead. She is laid in the family crypt. After 150 years, when Emily destroys the horcrux in Bonnie's body, the reader wakes up. Surprisingly, she is pregnant. But the Reader is offended by Damon. He ruined her life. And she's determined to keep Damon away from her child. She also tries to fit into the modern world. There's really one problem… gradually Damon realizes that he loves the writer, and Catherine and Elena were an obsession. Will he be able to get his wife back

Thank you for this request, I hope I displayed it how you envisioned it!

Second chances

Pairing: Damon Salvatore X female reader

Series: The vampire diaries

Summary: Request! You’re Damon’s Fiance from before he turned and you wake up from a curse finding yourself in a modern world while pregnant with Damon’s child. But distracted by Katherine, Damon was horrible to you before. Can you forgive him? Has he changed?

Warnings: Pregnancy? Swearing.

Second chances- The second (Number two)

My eyes opened to darkness. My first thought wasn't where I was, my first thought was what just happened. I blinked a couple times, trying to clear my brain of the fog, of the discombobulation. I heard distant moving behind my head which created this new thought. where was I, and how did I get out. I began trying to move but I didn't have much space, nor did I have much air. I struggled some more and began making grunting noises of distress before the shouting began. 'HELP" "GET ME OUT OF HERE".

A moment or two later I heard voices nearer to me. I stopped banging and tried to listen to them, to find out if they were friend or foe. "Hello?" one of them called out. "Where are you?" another voice asked. looking at my options I had no choice but to ask them for help, even if they were foe.

"In here" I cried out banging on what seamed to be stone. "It took a second but eventually I felt myself moving backwards and then the bright light attacked my face. I looked up at the three girls standing above me. They looked at each other then back down at me. "W-who are you" I asked looking at their clothes. Id never seen anything like it before. Women in mens clothes? trousers?.

"We're... um well i'm Bonnie and this is Caroline and Elena" one of the girls answered. "Why do you dress yourself in mens clothes and speak improper" I questioned shaking my head, trying to understand what is going on. “Um?” Elena threw me a weird look and the girls looked me up and down. “What are you guys doing?” A man’s voice appeared from outside.

“I’d know that voice anywhere” my eyes batted pulling my self out of the box in an act to escape. But it was too late. There behind the girls stood Damon Salvatore and his younger brother. “Y-y/n?” He stuttered looking at me like I was an alien. “It can’t be- you’re dead?” Stefan shook his head taking a step closer. “What in earths name is going on, I don’t like this game boys?” I folded my arms putting my head up. “You know her?” Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “T-that’s my fiance- from before I changed” Damon stated still obviously in shock.

“Your father wouldn’t be happy to hear you speak so improper and hang out with such obscure company” I frowned at him before looking around at my surroundings. “Gosh- everything looks so- different” I blinked realising something was wrong. “Y/n- it’s been over 100 years since you were out of that box- we thought you were dead but- you must have been turned too” Damon told me softly. My head whipped round to him, my eyes blazing with fire.

“You know Damon I once loved you- and after all the love I gave to you, you still treat me so uncouth” I scoffed putting my hands on my hip. “Y/n- Damon and I aren’t playing any games- it really has been over 100 years” Stefan told me, all their faces had a wipe of sympathy across them, and I hated it. “Nonsense- I have had enough- I shall tell my father I no longer want to be wed with you” I folded my arms and pushed past the girls but as I did my eye caught onto something. My father’s name was written on the tombstone next to me.

I stopped and stared at it thinking about nothing else but the words “it’s been over 100 years”. I turned to the boys with tears in my eyes. “Why does my father and my mother’s names lie on these tombstones in our family crypt” I asked almost in tears at the thought of them cold, dead in a box. “You know why Y/n” Damon took a step towards me and I took one back. “Those stories- about that girl being a vampire- the one you loved Katherine- they- they were true?”. No one answered me for a minute- they all looked around at one another.

“They must have been so- how else would you live all these years- and myself? Am I truly one of those beasts?” I asked them desperately, feeling the tears roll down my face. “No- you’re not- or you would have needed blood to wake up- I think my ancestor Emily put a spell on you- if you were due to marry Damon and Emily worked for Katherine I’m sure she would have had something to do with it” Bonnie folded her arms looking at Damon pissed off. “Y/n I’m really sorry- for how I treated you- for what happened- come back to my house we will get you cleaned up and catch you up” Damon put his hand out to me.

“You did not answer me” I shook my head at his hand. “Yes” he replied. That’s all he said. That’s all I’d had to go off. A whole new world and my only friend was my horrid Fiance who didn’t love me. but I suppose I had no choice. “I shan’t hold your hand but I will follow behind” I nodded with not hint of a smile. It was all too much for me. I wasn’t sure if I’d get on in this world- awful use of the English language, girls who dress like men?

As we left I kept my questions inside- though I had many. They helped me into what they called a Morden day car, and Damon drove me all the way to his house. Though there was all this new stuff stepping into his house was like a breath of fresh air. A lot of the decor looked as if it was made in my day. It felt familiar. They took me upstairs to what was a Morden day shower and Elena left me out some Morden day clothes. She made sure she gave me a dress and I told her I shan’t be wearing male attire.

And then Damon met me in the room. He took a seat on the bed and patted for me to sit down. “This is all rather a lot Damon” I sighed sitting down, crossing my legs properly. “How can I live in a world without my Father- I have not married” “women- don’t need to marry anymore- women can live on their own now” he shrugged with a little smile. “Women can work, drive, smoke- vote- women are independent now”. I swallowed finding what he said hard to believe. “But- I have nothing left” “I’m here” he told me reaching for my hand.

“And im so so sorry for how i treated you before- you don’t deserve that you didn’t- i was distracted by Katherine” he explained to me while tucking some hair behind my head. “You never loved me Damon- you loved her- we cannot be married, my father would not want me to marry you after hearing how you treated me- the things you said to me and did to me” I shook my head taking my hand from his. “I am present for you to explain how this disaster happened- and where I go now- what I do in this morden world- after that I wish never to see you again” I told him boldly.

Damon shook his head almost pouting at me. “Y/n you can’t mean that- i will apologise every day if you’ll let me please just don’t go- when I thought you were dead the guilt ate away at me so much until I turned my switch off- i couldn’t live knowing I could have had that life with you and I threw it away- but I’ve been given a second chance to fix it to make it up to you”. I suppressed an eye roll for his idiocy. “But I do not and can not love you anymore Damon” I folded my arms looking him dead in the eye.

I wish I felt a little more remorse because his heart looked like it was breaking. But I didn’t, he put me through a lot worse. "But where will you go Y/n? you have no money no family- you're human". That was true, and I felt my heart drop when I realised he was right. "You must tell me- it is your fault I am in this god forsaken position" I expressed as anger bubbled upside of me.

"I know- i'm so sorry- we could have just lived the normal human life- had children together... what I would do to go back" Damon looks away from me, I wasn't sure if he was hiding tears or just couldn't look me in the eye. "But we cannot" I answered bluntly after giving it a second. In that moment my stomach became incredibly sore, I wrapped my arms around it and breathed out to try and stabilise it once more. "Y/n?" Damon called out gently putting his hand on my arm. "Are you okay?" he moved closer as I let out a wince from the pain.

"I am- it is merely a stomach cramp I am sure" i breathed out trying to suppress the pain. But it wasn't working. "We should take you to a doctor, you were in that tomb a long time" he suggested taking a stand. "No- I would not like to waste a good physicians time" I shook my head adimant I wasn't going to go. "Come on Y/N, I want to make sure you're alright". I looked up at him, he was worried, it was written all over his face. But how could I be sure it wasn't all a game- the Salvatore boys liked games. I wouldn't be tricked by Damon.

"Okay- if we must" I nodded weakly and tried to stand, Damon supported me wrapping an arm around my waist and the other held my left hand. "This is the longest stomach cramp I have ever endured" I stated as we left his room. Damon told the others where we were going and insisted he didn't need any of there help, he then proceeded to help me into the car. I didn't know lots about this Morden day vehicle, but the pain I was in made me glad it went faster than a horse.

We arrived at the hospital and Damon once again helped me out the car. He used what he called 'vamp speed' to get round to me quicker than I could even blink. But that just made me even more weary of him. What other powers did he posses, what could he do to me? We rushed into the hospital and it was there I saw exactly what he was capable of. He compelled the doctor to give all his attention to me. I was rushed into a room and had scans done on my stomach. The doctor left to get my results, filling the room with awkwardness. I didn't want Damon in here to hear what was wrong with me.

But he was adamant he had to take care of me. "What was it like? waking up in there?" Damon asked me softly, as if he didn't want to offend me. I turned my head to him and blinked just staring for a second, maybe two. "Like I had just woken up from a sleep- but I did not realise how long it had been" I sharply put turning my attention away from him again. "Is there anything I can do to make up for what I did?". "Do you understand how absurd you sound- not only did you abuse me- physically and mentally- committed adultery, you got me stuck in another time, I missed my friends growing up, my parents will never watch me become wedded, and I have to fit into a world I was never supposed to be in".

Damon took a deep sigh in, he knew I was right. "God- what is wrong with me- I suppressed all the guilt for so long, I really mean it when I tell you i'm feeling it" he told me talking in a soft sympathetic voice. "Perhaps I believe you, but that does not change the past- or how I feel towards you" I told him harshly, I saw from the corner of my eye that he opened his mouth but in that second the doctor walked into the room. "I have good news" he smiled clutching his papers to his chest. "And- not so good news" he took a seat next to me and smiled.

"The not so good news is you are very malnourished my dear, it looks as if you haven't had a meal in 100 years" he chuckled trying to make a joke, but I looked at Damon gritting my teeth pissed off with him. "Well what's the good news?" Damon asked so that id stop looking at him. "The baby seems to be perfectly healthy, you just need to have a few large meals, gain some weight otherwise when you come to giving birth or even being heavily pregnant, complications will be serious".

"What- what are you talking about? what baby?" Damon questioned sitting on the edge of his seat. "D-did you not know you were pregnant?" he looked to me over the top of his glasses. "I- I did not" I muttered feeling my arms cross over my stomach protectively. "Thank you- doctor" I blinked staring at my arms. "Good luck with everything" he smiled sweetly before getting up and leaving.

I didn’t move. Not my body, not my mouth. “I-is it mine?” Damon asked me eventually. “Of course it is” I snapped at him throwing my legs off the bed and facing him. “Just because you commuted adultery does not mean I did too” I frowned at him angrily. “No I know- I just- I dunno it was a stupid question I just needed to say something” he admitted, but he didn’t have the same reaction as me. I saw a little smile forming on his face. “How is this funny” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Y/n I’m not laughing” he sighed rolling his head onto his shoulder and presenting a bigger smile now. “I’m happy- you know I’m - technically I’m dead I thought I was never going to procreate- I- this is a miracle”. Excitement definitely danced in his eyes, it was obvious- spread across his face and it was starting to flow through his body. His fingers were fidgeting now. “Y/n I am going to show you I’ve changed- we’re going to have a family together and I will never- ever let anyone hurt you or our child” he told me getting up and holding my hands in his. “I promise”.

“That is a ambitious promise Damon- considered you are the only one who has hurt me before” I told him standing up now. His body was close to mine, we were almost touching. I had forgotten how tall Damon was compared to me, he towered over me. But all I felt was fear. “How can I move past what has happened when you frighten me?” I whispered looking into his deep blue eyes. “You give me a second chance- you have to Y/n I’ve changed, please that’s all I ask of you” he begged me with those eyes of his. Those eyes that he could bat and get anything he wanted. By almost everyone.

“I simply cannot answer yet- it seems this new world allows women to have some power, maybe I must take that into consideration” my arms folded across my chest. My feelings were more than conflicted. “Of course, you can take all the time you need, I’ll take you home” he replied, the happiness had been almost ripped away from him, he only showed desperation now. Damon put a hand on my back as we walked back out towards the car. The journey home was silent, I watched the roads to see how mystic falls had changed.

And oh it had changed.

I went back into the house leaving Damon trailing behind me. “You can go back to the room if you feel like you want to be alone- I’ll get you some food you must eat” he told me. I didn’t turn around or say anything to him. Just climbed the stairs heading back up to the room. Damon walked into the living room where Stefan was sitting with Caroline, Bonnie and Elena. “Hey” Elena smiled, happy he had just walked in. “How’d it go?” Stefan raised an eyebrow. “Um- I’m gonna have a kid Stefan” the older brother looked him in the eyes from across the room.

“She’s? No? Really?” Stefan stuttered, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. “She’s pregnant” Elena spat out, her face covered in envy. “Yeah” Damon cracked a smile as he nodded his head. “I’m gonna be an uncle?” Stefan joined him standing up. Damon continued to nod and he let out a small laugh. His brother walked round the sofas to embrace him. “Congratulations brother” he whispered in his ear. “So what you’re going to start a family with her now?” Elena jerked her head back making Damon look back at her.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do- once she forgives me” he scratched the back of his head. “But what about us?” Elena blinked folding her arms tightly. “There is no us Elena- we broke up got together broke up again- we were toxic” “we were working on things” she interrupted sitting forwards now. “Not anymore, my Fiance is upstairs, the mother of my child- you where exactly what Katherine was, a distraction” he told her and with that he walked away from the conversation and into the kitchen to make some food.

About ten minutes later Stefan camp ran into the room, Damon turned to him with a confused look. “Why do you look so concerned” he tutted going back to what he was doing. “Damon- you need to go upstairs” he told him sternly. “I’m about to, just need to finish this sandwich” he murmured not paying much attention to his brother. “Damon, now” Stefan warned him, “it’s about Y/n” “is she okay?” Damon turned round fiercely, paying more attention now. “She’s gone”. Damon’s eyes blinked a couple times and he dropped the knife running off in a flash.

Stefan wasn’t far behind him. “I came to congratulate her and I found this note” Stefan sighed pointing at the bed. Damon couldn’t find any words, he wondered over to the bed and picked it up.

𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝒟𝒶𝓂ℴ𝓃，

ℐ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝓈ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉， 𝒾 𝒶𝓂 𝓉ℴℴ． 𝒲ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒷ℯℯ𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝓉ℴ𝑔ℯ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒾𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ𝒹 𝓂ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓃．ℐ 𝒹ℴ 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒻ℯℯ𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝒾 𝒷ℯ𝓁ℴ𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓉．𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ𝒻ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝒾 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌ℯ𝓇 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝒾 𝒻𝒾𝑔𝓊𝓇ℯ ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒾 𝒶𝓂 𝓃ℴ𝓌． ℐ𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓂ℯ 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃， 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌ℯ𝓇，𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝒾 𝒸ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒾 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒸𝒽ℴ𝓈ℯ𝓃 𝓉ℴ 𝒻ℴ𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊． ℐ 𝒶𝓂 𝓈ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝒷��� 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈，𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔ℯ𝒹 𝒾 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎ℴu, 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓂ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒾 𝓃ℯℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓉ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂， ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃 𝒾𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝓀ℯℯ𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓎ℴ𝓊．

𝒲𝒽ℴ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌𝓈，𝒾 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓈ℴℴ𝓃．

ℒℴ𝓋ℯ 𝒴／𝓃

“Well fuck…”.

Damon Salvatore masterlist

The vampire diaries masterlist

All series masterlist

Masterlist of masterlists

[14thgalerie]

the one

• pairing: theodore nott x riddle!reader

• now playing: hayloft by mother mother / you that i want by divine

• word count: 1.7k

• genre: angst, fluff, hint of smut

— short one that i kept thinking of.

Theo slumped in his chair, fatigue weighing heavily on him. The clock on the wall opposite him ticked relentlessly, unforgiving of his sleepless state. He had long abandoned any hope of finding any rest. He hadn’t been able to since that fateful night when everything felt right in his life.

His mind wouldn’t grant him solace. Each time his weary eyelids dared to meet from the pure exhaustion of the stress of OWLS, the ongoing war, his brain kept feeding him images of you. You, who kept haunting him from the very forefront of his mind. 

The natural curve of your eyelashes. The way it fluttered against his cheeks as your lips made a blazing trail across his cheeks. Gentle whispers that drown him in sheer bliss still send shivers down his spine. 

His tie lay abandoned, discarded beside him, next to the pile of papers swept aside in his frustration earlier. The long, emerald fabric had felt too suffocating amidst the overwhelming thoughts of you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you would also be writhing in bed, unable to fall asleep as he does. Would your dreams torment you with the brief time his hands tangled onto your hair, wayward? Does your dormant body spin cruel variations of that time, telling him tantalising tales of what could’ve occurred if only your insufferable blonde companion hadn’t so abruptly interrupted?

He had never loved you.

Not in the way you wanted.

This desire to fill the emptiness in your heart, to have somebody give you the time and day has obscured that truth. A part of you knew, from the very beginning, but this desperation forced you to turn yourself blind.

Draco was there, a constant presence in your life, a perfect match to have by your side. Born only 24 hours apart, and 10 years of your childhood spent solely with him.

In truth, you both used the other, a fact that you ignored. He relied on you for protection and status as your partner, while you clung to him to feel the fleeting sense of warmth. But the perpetual storm of reality always wearing you both down and, you were rapidly losing the strength to keep yourself afloat.

Unspoken words hung heavy in the air between the both of you as the year progressed and the inevitable return of your father neared. At first, you had both kept your feelings at bay, not wanting this to jeopardise your friendship altogether. But as time went on, it became a routine. Venom spit from raised voices, threats of abandonment and indifference to each other, reconciliation accompanied by hollow promises and sex.

“Are you a bloody fool? She is my best friend and yet again, Draco ‘can’t-keep-his-boxers-on’ Malfoy decided that didn’t matter!” You screamed in frustration, but it didn’t seem to matter when he didn’t even so much as falter at the volume. 

“We aren’t even together, so why should it?” He carelessly replies, an air of indifference surrounding him.

“We aren’t? You truly are an insufferable git, I spent two years committing myself to you, and you never thought to mention that little detail before?” You scoffed, incredulous at the idea. It was foolish and outrageous, and not at all like how the man you know would think. Despite your differences with one another, he would still treat you with at least the respect you give to a friend, but now…

“Oh please! Don’t act as if your mind has not been completely filled with that mindless buffoon.” 

“For Merlin’s sake, do not dare turn this on me…” You challenged him. 

“Or what? Threaten to have your father kill me? Well, surprise, darling, I’m no stranger to that already.” He humorlessly chuckles. “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen that god-awful lovesick look on your face at the mere sight of his back. I am not the complete bloody fool you think I am.”

It hurt, truly, despite the fact that this started as a hilarious excuse of a relationship. You cared for Draco and to see him constantly destroy everything and everyone in his path of destruction left you unable to conjure up any more excuses for him.

“I am done, Draco. We can stop whatever awful pretentious act we put ourselves to and live on our own as you seem to hardly care for even yourself anymore these days.” You laugh, defeat etched on your face.

He never gave you the love that you sought, the kind that Theo had laid bare in complete display for you in just under seven minutes in that tiny closet. 

“You came back to me.” He whispers, close enough for his lips to touch the corner of your lips but there’s just a stutter of breath. It makes you want to instinctively kneel and look up to him and beg religiously for mercy, the way he speaks.

“I did.” You reply. Unmoving, but your patience wears thin.

“Look at you,” He mutters, his hand tugging at your head by your hair, exposing your neck to him, and your knees nearly buckle at his breath that burns against your jaw. “I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re almost like putty in my hands already.”

“Shut it, Nott.” You quickly remark a decision you notably regret when you are left standing in the middle of the room all by yourself. The cold air from the ajar window left your skin tingling with an uncomfortable feeling akin to when Draco touched you in the past weeks.

You scoff, the sound more as if you were nearly pleading. “What are you doing?”

“You know I hate it when you act like a brat.” He inclined his head, and the movement leaves chills running through your spine for the action is almost similar to someone sinister. But weirdly, it makes you want to tease him even more.

“Oh please, Theo. I’m not blind, as if you don’t dream of it.” You slowly approach him, your fingers make a motion of dragging along the ends of the poster beds. “The way I see your eyes tremble when I contradict every single thing you say. I know you are depraved when your thoughts are only of my mouth…”

You hear a sharp intake of breath when you come near. “The way you would just love it if you could shut me up by having my lips wrapped around you. I know you, Theo.”

His lips twitch into a mirthless smile, he reaches almost mindlessly for your collar. His thumb barely touches the skin of your neck. “Yes, you do.”

His eyes are intense as they dart to your mouth. Your tongue unconsciously makes a sweep against your dry lips.

“I suppose Draco will show me exactly how.”

Taking a page of this man’s book is terrifying but you are tired of this game of tug that you keep playing.

“That would be wise. ”

He’s still looking at your lips.

“I’ll go then.” You try again, unwilling to make the move.

“Go on, you won’t hear a sound of protest from me.” But you remain standing in front of him, the will to move weak against the desire to have him.

“Really?”

“No.”

Theo grabs the back of your head, tangled his fingers in your hair, and made a mess of your mouth. With his lips attached to yours, you grab him by his shirt and the both of you kiss as if you were third years again. Your teeth clashed into each other time and time again and you couldn’t find it in you to slow down. 

The need to kiss him, to feel what you’ve been thinking of for several nights on end.  You push back at him, desperate to feel the same hunger and need in him, as he kisses you deeper and more profound than you ever thought possible.

The soft, selfish hands that you wished so badly to wipe clean off the bodies of other women move up from the bottom of your back to move you impossibly closer until you are almost one. His voice is ragged when he pulls away, a thin thread of saliva still connecting you.

He says against your cheek, “I love you. I’d die for you. Nobody can ever give you what I could make the pain go away like I could, not even that dense fuck who has a deeper sense of self-preservation than his parents.”

You swallow, agonised by the sudden slow pace that he moves. Not an ounce of energy dared to waste to defend your ex. “I will love you anywhere.”

You shiver at the raw and pure intensity that laced the declaration. You almost want to ask, to hear how. But you don’t think your mind could properly comprehend the ability to piece together the right words to ask.

His heart is pounding from beneath your fingers as you feel the pulse on his neck, almost leaping it out as if all it wants is for you to finally claim it as yours. Encase it in a glass case and put it on display for all else to see.

“In a bookstore, by the water fountain, the sidewalk, in the flames of your home.” His hands come down to your hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that by morning sunlight, purple will be painted on your skin but it feels so heavenly that you don’t push them away.

“I love you, not for the protection you provide and for your substantial looks, but for all the small things you do that bear your soul to me.” 

Your hands meet around the back of his neck as he carries you by your thighs towards his bed. Pulling at the fabric that keeps him away from you.

“I’ll love you even as you tell me you hate me. I love you enough that I will scour the face of this earth for a place where I can take you away from your nightmares.” 

“I-“ He sighs into your lips, completely delighted by the intimacy that only his mind could conjure up in the lone nights. “I love you.”

You move for the buttons of his polo, while he moves to pull your shirt from you. A race that leaves you both fumbling when you feel his hand carving a path against your waist and up to your chest. You are left scalding, tiny bounces of light flickering in your eyes.

“I will be at your string’s end.”

masterlist

[exitingmusic]

Yours

Caleb x reader

Warnings: suicidal ideas, depression, slight self-harm, language, obsessive Caleb (slight yandere, not too ooc), lil bit of angst :)

AN: This is a pretty long one I've had in my drafts and the beginning isn't great but I swear it gets better I SWEAR I'll do the HC after this I just really wanted to write this before I forgot :)

WC: 8.6k

After a big argument with Caleb about him locking you in his house, tensions were high. He was leaving tomorrow for a new exploration mission with the Farspace Fleet, but you refused to let yourself be upset that he was leaving again. Not when he had locked you up. Not when he had given you sleeping pills instead of medicine so you wouldn’t sneak out. 

He approaches you, a smile on his face as he takes your hand. “I’m about to leave, it’d be nice if we could have a meal together.”

You yank your hand away, snapping, “So I have to listen to the Colonel even when it comes to eating and drinking now?”

Hurt crosses his expression as you turn on your heel, heading for the living room. He follows you, standing in front of you as you sit on the couch and scowl up at him.

“Your life has threats around every corner. The people who are after your power, who want to hurt you? They should all just disappear.” Leaning forward, he presses his hand against the cushion beside your head. “You’re only safe when you’re by my side.”

A gentle smile tugs at his lips, the soft feeling not reaching his cold eyes. It falls quickly though when you respond, “I’d rather face danger head on than live ‘safely’ like this! I don’t need you—“

“You don’t need me? Is that what you think?” he says, cutting you off with a disbelieving laugh. Leaning forward, he grabs one of your wrists. “Alright. What do you need? You can tell me. We can return to Linkon if that’s what you want. If you want to return to the past, we’ll rebuild our old house and move in together.”

His voice turns pleading as he continues, “I’ll decorate it with everything you could ever want, it will have the most beautiful, stunning gardens you’ve ever seen. No threat will ever be able to find you again. I’ll protect you forever.” His words are soft, his eyes so familiar and yet so wrong, somehow. A slight smile curves his mouth, so normal and yet different that it makes your heart ache.

“Caleb, I lived this long without you, I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bird locked in a cage, even if it is with you,” you pleaded, carefully watching his every reaction.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and closes his eyes, clearly struggling to remain calm and not snap. He rubs the bridge of his nose and takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself as he opens his eyes again to look at you.

“You think I care about your freedom or free will right now? The only thing I care about is protecting you. The rest doesn’t matter.” He runs a hand through his dark hair and paces away from you, his expression conflicted. “Why do you even want that freedom when you could have safety here, with me?”

“Am I just supposed to stay here, acting happy all my life? Surrounded by the same walls? The same things? Never see or talk to anyone else?” You continued, your voice raising, “because I can't do that Caleb, no matter how safe I'd be. I couldn’t stand it.”

Caleb’s jaw is clenched tight, the anger in his words barely contained. He turns and takes a step forward, his hand reaching out to grab your arm and pull you up from the couch. “I don’t give a damn how ‘happy’ you are, or if you feel ‘trapped’. I just. Need. You. Safe.” His hand tightens on your arm as he presses close to you, every line of his body tense at the argument.

“It doesn’t matter if I lock you up or keep you under my watch,” he says, his gaze pinning yours as he growls, “As long as you’re safe, nothing else matters,” he mutters, releasing your arm, but still standing close enough to tower over you, his violet gaze locked on yours. “Why can’t you understand I’m doing this because I love you? I can’t let anything happen to you, no matter the cost.”

You didn’t recognize this man in front of you, eyes hard and cold, determined to clip your wings and trap you in this gilded cage. You weren’t angry at him, no, it just hurt seeing the boy you loved so dearly so detached and uncaring, towards you no less.

Anger fading, you look at him with saddened eyes, “You're not my Caleb.”

Caleb freezes, staring at you, looking like you stabbed him in the chest before his expression hardens again, the air growing tense as he says, “What are you talking about?”

His hand gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up so he can search your expression as he says, “Of course I’m the same Caleb, your Caleb. The one who’s been here, protecting you, worrying for you, and who loves you. Who else could I be?”

“My Caleb wouldn't have done this. He would've happily followed me to the ends of the universe to keep me safe and happy. He wouldn't lock me away…” you said defiantly, raising your chin.

He releases your chin and steps back, something cold hardening in his expression. “Your Caleb, huh? That sounds like some kind of ideal to me. He sounds like a spineless, love sick idiot who’s willing to risk your life for you to be happy.”

He begins to pace in front of you, his expression turning bitter as he says, “You think he would’ve preferred letting you run around, putting yourself in danger, all because of what?! Your happiness?”

“But I loved that Caleb, I still do. I couldn't give a shit if he was a spineless, love sick idiot. He was my Caleb and I'd have him no other way,” you say loyally, your voice quiet but unwavering.

He freezes, something painful flashing across his expression before he quickly turns from you. One of his hands clenches into a fist as he snaps, “Well that Caleb is dead and gone.” He’s stiff, his shoulders are tense, a muscle in his jaw moving as he stands silently.

Even though he’s turned away from him, your face doesn’t hide your disappointment, “Clearly,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. You can’t help the sliver of satisfaction that you feel as he clenches his jaw, teeth gritting. 

“So why do you keep talking about him? He’s dead, and everything you want doesn’t matter anymore.” He turns and walks towards you, standing just in front of you with a bitter, cold expression. His voice is fragile as he asks you, “Why can’t you stop talking about him and see me?”

You hold no anger, only pity for him, “Because you’re trying to force me to see you, to choose you over everything else in my life. You’re making yourself the bad guy.”

He laughs, but it’s bitter and harsh. “The bad guy? Is that what you think I am?”

‘Caleb’ cups a hand on your chin, gently forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are hard, no trace of the soft, kind boy you used to know.

“Let me tell you what I think, sweetheart. I think your judgement is clouded by sentiment. Your idea of who your old Caleb is has blinded you, your idea for who I should be.”

That was your breaking point, “Well maybe it’s because I’m locked in this house and now I’m not allowed to see my friends, to go places, hell, I’m not even allowed to go outside,” you spat, glaring up at Cal- no, the Colonel. 

He scoffs and gently pushes you back down into the couch, his expression angry as he says, “You expect me to care? You’re not miserable. You’re not hungry, you’re not uncomfortable. You have everything here, but all you can focus on is that you’re missing your freedom, like some kind of animal.”

He shakes his head and looks away, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You’re lucky I even let you have this much. You could be locked up, actually locked up in a cell with no contact.”

Your eyes narrow, an expression of disgust on your face, “You’re right my Caleb is dead,” you grit out, brushing past him to your room. 

His jaw tightens, annoyance clear in his expression as he yells after you, “And what does that mean? Your Caleb is dead, sweetheart. This is the only version of me you’ll ever have now.”

Turning back, you bare your teeth, “I might not die out there, but I sure as hell will wither away in here. Thank you, Colonel, I feel so safe,” you spat the title out venomously, slamming the door, paying no mind to his recoil at the rank.

He lets out a low growl and slams a hand on the door, his voice rising in a sharp, cold snap. “You’re going to open this door right now.”

“We don't all get what we want, Colonel,” you say, voice empty as you glare at the door.  “Remember? Safety over happiness?”

He steps back and takes a deep, calming breath. With sharp, angry strides, he walks into the living room and sits on the couch, every movement radiating anger.

“Happiness will pass,” he grinds out, his gaze cold as steel fixated on the wall. “Safety is permanent.”

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Over the next 2 days, fury is the only thing you feel, it consumes you. You don’t sleep, don’t eat, you can’t breathe from the anger running through your veins. After the first couple of hours, your room is completely trashed, everything that decorated her room was either broken or on the floor. Your books were bent, pages torn out and crumpled. Your plants were turned on their sides, pots broken as soil spilled out. Pictures of Caleb and you, drawings you had made of each other, laughed over were taken out of their frames and torn to pieces, the frames crumpled and dented. The pretty vase of flowers Caleb got you? Smashed to pieces, the petals shredded and stems ripped. The pillows and blankets you bought together? Ripped, the stuffing leaking, just how your pain leaked oozed from every pore. The jackets, shirts, and sweatshirts he gave you were tossed in the hall. Every gift he ever got you was either broken, ripped, shredded or shoved away from your sight. Everything you enjoyed was broken beyond repair.

Even the plushies weren’t safe from your wrath, a couple being so dented from how many times your fist flew into the soft material. The only thing that remained untouched was a dinosaur model that the two of you spent nearly a week on before he “died”. It was also the first time he ever kissed you, right after he placed the final piece, he jumped up, excited, pure joy on his face as Caleb spun you around and next thing you knew, his lips were on yours.

Now, you couldn’t even look at it, but you couldn’t bear the thought of crushing it, so it sat on the windowsill, hidden behind the blinds that were always shut tightly, preventing any glimpse of the outside.

The Colonel didn’t do that, you did. You couldn’t bear to see freedom so close, yet so far. The sun would shine on the grass and trees outside your window, birds flying over and nesting in the big oak tree in the back. Each night, when the sun set, the sky would be ablaze with the most vibrant pinks, purples, and oranges. Wispy clouds trailed their fingertips through the sea of the sky, curling around each other and floating whichever way the wind carried them. 

You felt like a caged animal, being taunted by having to watch your freedom and life slip past right in front of you.

On day 2, you realized that your anger wasn’t getting you free. Defeated, you fell back onto your mattress, a heavy weight on your chest, like this invisible force was smothering you. 

You couldn’t cry, it was like the comfort of tears had forsaken you as well as the life you were once so excited to continue, adventuring around the planet freely, meeting people, fighting wanderers and just having the freedom to make your own decisions. 

You just felt so empty, the anger had burned out all of your motivation, all of your feelings, leaving you a hollow, blank shell. 

A part of you died with Caleb when he vanished in the explosion, coming back as someone you could barely recognize. Your mind was tricked by his physical appearance that you didn’t notice that the kindness and joy had all been leached out. 

You didn’t know how long you laid there, lost in your own mind before the door opened. Even though you didn’t look, you could still sense he was standing there.

You didn’t react, not when he sucked in a breath at the mess, not when he came closer or when he peered at you.

“Come, I made you food,” he says stiffly, eyes sweeping over the crushed memories, precious items that weren’t too special to anyone except you.

Standing up, you avoided his eyes and walked past him, shoulders curled inwards as you sat down in front of the plate set up for you.

You couldn’t even feel your hunger, your mouth didn’t water as the scent of his braised chicken wings filled the air. Sides of wonton soup, Har gow, and stir fry sat on the counter, all your favorites.

You ate robotically, the food turning to ash in your mouth. Normally when you ate Caleb’s cooking, you’d be shoveling it in your mouth as fast as possible, trying to eat as much as you could before you got a stomach ache.

But normally you wouldn’t be locked inside.

You could tell Cale-, no, Colonel was a little concerned as he watched you eat slowly, completely blank, a harsh contrast from your torn apart room. 

He cleared his throat, “Is the food okay?” The Colonel asks, his voice hesitant. 

“S’fine,” you muttered, staring at the plate.

He didn’t try to talk to you again but he sat there, watching you with sharp eyes.

After you finished, you took your dishes over, rinsing the residue off and setting them next to the sink before you went back to your room, shrinking away from the windows, like a phantom.

And that’s what you were, a ghost, a wraith. A spirit that haunts the halls of the house, staring blankly for hours on end. And wherever she drifts, the curtains fall shut, clouding the house in darkness once more. Darkness that was reflected under your eyes.

You grow paler, thinner, your hair messy and clothes hanging off your body like rags. You only ate when he made you, only slept when he made you, only spoke when he asked you something. All your other time was spent locked in your mind, staring off into space. 

The Colonel had attempted to bring you back to life. He had cleaned up most of your room, replaced books, framed new pictures, and bought you new pillows and blankets. He tried to talk to you, tried to get you to do things together, but you only responded with simple answers or refusal. 

He tried to get you to cook with him, playing music while he waited for you to come out of your room and help him or even just sit at the counter. He tried to give you new plants, but you never watered them, your room was already too dark for them to live long. He gave you all the comforts you could want, but nothing changed.

A cage was still a cage no matter how pretty it was.

Only you couldn’t bear to look outside of it. 

You could tell the Colonel was getting frustrated, he stopped trying to sweet talk you into spending time with him or having a conversation. He stopped putting so much effort into cooking, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. He stopped trying to breathe life into your room, stopped adding old pictures, stopped setting plants on the shelf, leaving the other ones to wilt away.

It was ironic, you and the plants were both wilting away from the sun, dying slowly.

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Like usual, you were laying on your bed, looking at the ceiling and imagining the bright blue sky and the fluffy clouds with birds flying overhead, trying to bring you some comfort, to ground you and to bring you some form of happiness.

It had been months. Five months since you’ve been outside, five months since you’ve seen anyone but him, five months since you’ve seen anything else but the same walls. 

You didn’t care anymore, you barely ate, just laid in bed, numb. Your hands were bloody from how often you picked your cuticles, your nails were just nubs, bitten down to the skin. Every time anything would scab over, you picked it immediately. 

It was a reminder, a reminder that you were still real, that you could feel, no matter how much you didn’t want to. No matter how many times that she felt like she wasn’t here, the pain would bring her crashing back down. 

He watched your slow retreat over the next few months. As much as he tried to talk to you, to coax you back to something like your old self, he made no ground. You were like a shell of your former self, just a hollow echo with no fire in its soul. 

With every week that passed, he grew more and more desperate. He tried bringing your favorite foods in, tried to talk you into listening to music again, but none of it had any effect.

He tried to keep a blank expression around you, but as the months passed and he noticed that you were beginning to wilt away, the hard lines in his expression would soften to concern.

He attempted to give you things to do, books to read and such, but everytime he was met with either you ignoring him or just reading the words without actually comprehending them. 

By the time a couple of months had passed, your old self was gone, replaced with this empty, soulless shell.

After another month, he was at his wit’s end. You never talked, you never attempted to do anything, you were just a shell. All your fire, your brightness, your life, was gone. 

He watched over you constantly, his worry and agitation growing. It was like he was taking care of a robot or a puppet, rather than the person he loved. 

On one particular day, he stands in front of you with a conflicted look on his face as he says, “I can’t keep doing this.”

You just walked by him towards your room, “I told you.”

He follows you into the room, his expression hardening as he says, “Don’t you even care anymore? You’ve given up on everything.”

“No, I don’t care.”

He scoffs in disbelief, crossing his arms. “Damn it, you’re not even going to try and fight this?” he says, his voice sharp and bitter.

You sigh, finally turning to him, “There’s no point.”

He goes silent, his gaze fixed on you, taking in your changed appearance. There was a time when he would’ve admired everything about you, how fiery you were, how full of life. 

Now, now you were thin and limp and lifeless. Like a puppet without its strings, he felt like he’d broken you down to nothing but a shell of your former self.

After a few moments, he lets out a sigh and mutters, “You look terrible.”

“I'm safe,” you say simply, her words having no bite, just as lifeless as you. Crawling into bed, you faced the ceiling.

He squeezes his eyes shut as you speak, his heart twisting in his chest at your tone. 

He’s never heard you sound so lifeless before, so dull, almost like everything inside you has died. His hand gently shifts to the nape of your neck, his touch almost tender.

“This isn’t what I wanted. You’re acting like a doll, not like yourself.”

You turned away from him, “My safety matters most,” you say robotically.

He falls silent. It was a statement he had said, and yet… 

He sighs and closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Safety isn’t everything. What’s the point if you’re left miserable?” he said tiredly.

You didn’t bother agreeing, not when it took him this long to understand.

He runs a hand through his hair and scoffs, anger rising in him. “You’re supposed to argue! You’re supposed to get mad at me, yell at me!”

The Colonel’s hand clenches into a fist and he looks down at you, irritation filling his gaze. “You’re not this, you’re supposed to be all bright and happy, damn it!”

“I tried,” you mutter.

He lets out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You tried? Hah. You didn’t even fight it in the end, you just let yourself crumble and now I’m stuck with this-“ he waves a hand at you, “-this empty husk.”

You gave him a tired look, “I can’t fight forever.”

He sighs and shakes his head, his expression growing cold. “Bullshit. You could’ve kept fighting, you could’ve still been resisting but instead you just… gave up.”

His lip curls into a sneer, his anger flaring. “You just gave up and let me break you.”

“I just wanted to go outside,” you say, your voice broken as you turn towards the closed curtain.

His expression twists into a scowl, his anger still there but more muted. He takes a step forward, his gaze on you as he says, “Outside? That’s what this is about? You want to go out there? Do you have any idea what’s like for you outside? Why do I have to keep you here? It’s for your own safety. Can’t you see that?”

“I don’t want to live anymore,” you whisper, completely and utterly broken.

He’s taken aback, his anger instantly vanishing into thin air. He stands there in stunned silence, his jaw clenched tightly. The words hit him like a freight train, each syllable a sharp stab into their chests. He knew, he knew he’d driven you to the brink of depression, but hearing it out loud… he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there. “You don’t mean that,” he finally murmurs.

The Colonel comes forward and kneels at the side of the bed, reaching out a hand slowly, as if he’s afraid he’ll scare you away. He gently brushes a strand of your hair away from your face, his touch a tender, gentle one. “You can’t mean that,” he says again, his voice quiet and broken, “Tell me you didn’t mean that.”

You shake your head, “I’m done.”

He takes your hand in his, clasping it firmly on his own. His eyes lock onto yours, pleading. “Don’t say that. You’re not done. You’re just lost, I can help you find your way back, I can fix this, I can fix you.”

You avoid his gaze, “I don’t think anyone can.”

He refuses to believe that, his grip on your hand tightening as he says firmly, “I can. Anything that can be broken can be fixed. You’re just… confused. I can help you, I can fix you.”

“It’s been months.”

He can’t deny that, and he knows it. It was his fault, his fault that you were like this. Still, he shakes his head and looks you in the eye, determined. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. You’re broken, and I’m going to fix you. I don’t care what I have to do.”

He releases your hand and stands, towering over you with a determined expression. “I will fix you,” he repeats firmly, his jaw clenched tight. “I just need to find the right method. I’ll fix you. You just have to let me.”

“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whispered shakily.

The Colonel scoffs, his impatience flaring. “You don’t get to decide that. I know you’re in there, somewhere, you’re just hiding! You’re just…” He rubs a hand down his face, his frustration growing as he tries to find the right words. “You just need to be reminded of what you had. What we had.”

“I had a life.”

He looks at you, his expression hardening. “You have a life. You’re alive. You’re living, breathing, safe. That’s what matters, not you going out and running risks.”

“There’s nothing left for me,” you say, picking at your bloody hands, trying to ground yourself.

He grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him as he says, “Are you listening to yourself? We’ve been through so much. You are my world, my everything. I love you with all my heart. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you understand?”

Your gaze snaps to him, eyes hardening, “Why can’t you understand me?”

He shakes you a little, his fingers almost digging into your shoulders. “I’m trying!” he growls out, his anger flaring again. “But you’re just so damn stubborn, refusing to listen and understand what I’m doing is for your own good.”

And just like a flip of a switch you turn away from him, the little emotion and vulnerability you showed vanished, tucked away and extinguished. 

He’s left standing there, your expressionless body turned away from him. Frustration, irritation, anger, helplessness, guilt, all well up inside him. In a moment of blind frustration, he grabs a nearby pillow and lets out a yell as he throws it across the room.

You don’t react, don’t flinch, you just lie there, already retreating back into the corner of your mind. 

He stands and stares at your still body for a few moments, his chest heaving. He wants to shake you, to yell at you, to get something back, any semblance of his beloved and fiery girlfriend. But you’ve already retreated back into your emotionless shell, leaving him standing there and feeling more powerless than ever.

He falls to his knees and presses his palms to his eyes, his mind spinning as his emotions overwhelm him. The guilt in his chest is threatening to choke him, the sight of you lying there, barely even alive, all his fault. At that moment, he doesn’t feel like a man, much less a military colonel. He just feels like a boy who had broken the woman he loved into nothing. The woman who loved him even when he didn’t deserve it. The woman who had always been there, letting him cry on his shoulder ever since they were kids. 

You try to drown him out, picking at the peeling scabs on your fingers, staring at the covered window.

He drops his hands from his face, his expression tired, guilt, frustration, and even self loathing filling his gaze. He rises slowly and comes to stand by you, his movements almost wary. He eyes your body on the bed, so thin and pale, and his hand automatically comes out to touch your hair like he’s done a hundred times before, but he hesitates, his hand hovering just above your head.

Without warning, you feel his arms around you, picking you up. You don’t ask, don’t protest, don’t even move, just lie there in his arms, eyes staring straight forward.

He picks you up bridal style, one arm under your thighs and the other under your shoulders. Your frame is too light in his arms as he heads out of the room with you. You’re limp, pliant as a doll, as he carries you through the house.

He walks outside and down the porch steps, his footsteps quick and precise as he walks across the lawn to the other side of his sprawling property. 

As soon as the fresh air hits you, you tense, squinting at the sun. 

You were outside.

You were outside for the first time in nearly 6 months. It was better than you ever could’ve dreamed. The smell of grass and fresh air fills your senses. You could hear the steady pace of the Colonel’s feet as he walked through the field, could hear the chirp of the birds, could hear the rustling of leaves in the wind. The warmth of the sun shone on your skin, a sharp contrast from the artificial temperature of the AC or heater.

He sees tension take over your limbs, your gaze squinting up at the sunlight. He’s hit with another wave of guilt, realizing that this might be the first time in months you’d been outside, in the sunlight.

Your eyes dart around, observing everything you can, eyes wide like this was your last chance to take it all in. 

He carries you to the big oak tree at the end of his property, overlooking the hills and valleys towards the sun that was slowly sinking towards the horizon.

He gently sets you down in the shade, sitting a little bit behind you, leaving you to soak up what you’d been missing.

Instantly, your hands thread through the grass, clutching it like a lifeline. Your eyes are glued to the scenery in front of you. Rolling hills of all shades of green, from a deep hunter to a pale lime, trees and shrubs scattered the valleys, framing the thin silvery stream running down the middle. Wildflowers and weeds dotted the fields, their bright bursts of yellow, purples, oranges, and reds making the crystal sky so much clearer. Big fluffy tufts of white floated leisurely along the heavens, breaking up the sun into bright patches, shining on the bright grass below.

You're so absorbed in looking around that you don’t feel the tears dripping down her face, hands shaking from your tight grip on the poor grass.

Once you let in a shaky breath, he pauses, eyeing you like a ticking time bomb. His eyes widen as the realization hits him, watching the tears roll down your cheeks. He hadn’t seen you cry in years, ever since you had failed that test before you graduated. In all the time he knew you, you’ve been strong and fiery, fighting against the challenges that life handed to you. He can’t remember the last time he saw you cry, and seeing you now… he hates the sight of it.

He moves closer, his arms encircling you, his chest firm against your back. He leans you against him, his chin resting on top of your head. He murmurs softly, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re outside.”

In your moment of weakness, you lean back into him, tears coming faster as you choked out, “It’s so fucking pretty.”

He can’t stop the frown on his expression as you cry, your body shuddering. It hurts, more than anything else, seeing you cry. He pulls you closer, one of his hands gently stroking your hair as he murmurs, “It’s just the same old trees and grass. You’ve seen them before.”

You shake your head, unable to express the rawness of your feelings, only able to clutch his arm as you sobbed. Your relief at being able to feel the world again, it was overwhelming. But so was the fear, the fear that it’d be snatched away again.

His frown deepens as he watches you, feeling even more guilty as he continues to hear you cry. He pulls you into his lap, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you pressed against him. His other hand continues to stroke your hair, his voice quiet as he murmurs, “It’s okay… cry it out, sweetheart.”

You nestle yourself back into his chest, unable to tear your eyes away, “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He follows your gaze, staring out at the horizon, a pang hitting his heart as he’s reminded of how you used to look at everything with wonder. His arms wrap a little tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder as he murmurs, “And to think… you’ve been living without this for months.”

You flinch slightly at his words, sniffling and trying to hold your sobs in.

The bitter irony of the situation hits him harder than anything. Months of keeping you safe, of keeping you inside, all to keep you protected, but now just the act of you sitting outside is enough to bring you alive. He turns his gaze back to you, taking in your tear stained face, his jaw clenching tight in frustration at himself and this whole situation.

You nod, getting distracted as you see the birds flying overhead, going to their nest in the tree above your head. Letting out shaky breaths, you try to stabilize yourself, not wanting to scare the creatures away.

He shifts closer to you, keeping a slight distance, but still within arms reach. He follows your gaze to the birds and grimaces again. 

His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as he asks, “You want to get closer to them, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, your voice a rasp, “No, I don’t want to scare them away.”

He lets out a soft huff, his gaze softening as he hears your raspy voice again. It’s the most he’s heard you speak today, if not in days.

He watches you for a few moments, noticing the slight tremble in your hands, before his voice is soft, almost pleading, “You’re trembling, darling.” His hand twitches, as if he wants to reach out to comfort you, but he restrains himself. “Let me hold you. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

His voice has a hint of desperation in it now, seeing the tremble in your body. It pains him to see you like this, especially considering it’s all because of him. 

He moves closer, slowly, his hand hovering over your shoulder, “Please. Let me hold you, sweetheart.”

“I just need to see,” you plead, voice cracking. 

He clenches his jaw, closing his eyes to keep himself from losing it when he hears your words. He knows you’re not just talking about the birds, that this is about needing space, needing freedom.

And it kills him.

He reaches out anyway, unable to stand the sight of your trembling hands. He gently grabs your shoulders and pulls you back, positioning you so you’re leaning against his chest.

He holds you against his chest tightly, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He buries his face in your hair, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, trying to regain control of himself. 

He can’t help the broken words that escape him as he whispers, his voice strangled, “Oh sweetheart, what did I do to you…?”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his chest tight as he feels your body tremble against his. His voice is desperate as he speaks, his heart feeling like it’s being shredded with every word, “Please, please *please* don't be like this anymore. I need you to smile, to laugh, to yell at me, *anything* at this point. That blank look, the silence… it’s killing me.”

“I’ll try, just- just don’t keep me in there,” you beg.

He lets out a choked noise, his hold on you tightening a bit. He’d do anything to bring the life back into your eyes, to hear your voice. 

His voice is strained as he says, his head resting on your shoulder, “Anything you want, sweetheart. You won’t be locked in anywhere again, I promise. Just please… stop being like this. I need you back… you.”

He shifts, gently turning you so you’re facing him. His eyes roam your expression, taking in the tear tracks, the broken eyes, the trembling body. He lifts his hand, gently wiping at your cheeks and wiping away the tears. His voice is a strangled plea as he says, his fingers tracing your cheek tenderly, “Please… stop crying.”

He reaches up a hand, gently wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “I hate seeing you cry,” he murmurs, his expression still full of guilt as he continues, “That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You should smile, not sit here sobbing.”

He gently turns you around, tilting your chin up to see the sincerity in his eyes. 

“I couldn’t cry before I came out here,” your voice broke, “I couldn’t even feel anything.”

He shakes his head and holds you tighter, guilt continuing to build inside him. “You shouldn’t cry like this… you should be happy, enjoying the fresh air. Not crying over the very simple things I’ve taken away from you.”

He sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head on top of yours as he continues stroking your hair. He murmurs, “I knew you’d be happy to be outside, I knew it’d be different… I just didn’t know it’d be like this. I didn’t think you’d be crying like your world finally came back.”

“I just-“ his voice breaks off as he tries to find the words to say, guilt and frustration and regret warring within him. He takes in every detail of your form, and the guilt washes over him in waves. He feels like he’s broken you, even as he holds you tightly in his arms.

He holds you tighter at your words, his chest tightening at the sound of your voice. Your words are like a dagger to his heart; the way you try to reassure *him* with them instead of the other way around.

His grip on you almost becomes bruising as he speaks, his voice rough, “You’re free, darling. You’re safe. I won’t ever lock you away again, I promise.”

The guilt is so strong he’s nauseous, trying to keep himself together as he keeps you in his lap, trying to savor every second of this. Knowing that you probably hate him, but can’t even fight him in this moment, just sitting there and crying and staring out at the world he locked you away from. He knows that he’s changed your life forever, and he can’t even blame you for hating him right now.

You pause, hiccupping and debating your next words, “Thank you… Caleb,” you say hesitantly, lingering a bit longer on the syllables of his name. Syllables you hadn’t said in months, hell, you hadn’t even let yourself think of the name unless it was about the old Caleb.

Caleb’s eyes widen in surprise, and he almost doesn’t reply for a moment due to shock. He didn’t think he’d be hearing you saying his name, let alone thanking him. He takes a second to swallow the lump in his throat, his voice hoarse as he murmurs, “You’re thanking me…?”

The sun starts to slip below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze. Magnificent reds and orange and pinks lighting up the pale sky, dark clouds acting like smoke. It almost looked like the sun was melting, setting the green, lush valley on fire below. 

Your sobs slow to hiccups, body shuddering.

His hand continues to rub your back gently as he feels your sobs slow down, the sound being replaced with hiccups. He presses a gentle kiss to your head again, his hold on you still tight.

He murmurs quietly into your ear as he speaks, his voice still ragged, “That’s right, just breathe, pips. Take deep breaths…. I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

He cradles you against him, holding you tightly as you rest your head against his chest. He buries his face in your hair again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

His thumb rubs your arm tenderly, the motion gentle and almost soothing. He sits there silently, listening to the sound of your ragged breaths slowly even out.

Caleb’s suddenly hit with the realization that he’ll most likely have to bring you back inside eventually, and he lets out a silent grimace at the thought of it. A heavy feeling settles in his chest, the thought of making you go back to that emotionless, depressed shell of yourself making him feel nauseous. He tries to ignore it, shoving that thought away and focusing on his hand stroking your hair. He takes in a deep breath and murmurs, “Sweetheart?”

“Hm?” You murmur, nearly half asleep against him, watching the setting sun. 

He takes another deep breath, steeling his nerves and continuing, his voice low and steady. “I’ve gotta ask you something.”

Caleb gently turns your chin to face him, taking another deep breath and looks you dead in the eye, his gaze fierce and determined as he asks, “If it wasn’t for me, if you were free to do whatever, go wherever you wanted… would you leave me?”

You hesitate, afraid that he wouldn’t like your answer, “If I could do whatever I wanted, I’d stay with you, just not holed up in the house forever.”

He relaxes fractionally, the tense lines in his expression smoothening just a bit, but his jaw is still clenched tight. His next question comes out hesitant, like he’s afraid of the answer. “You… would stay with me, but not if I kept you inside like this, correct?”

You nod, not knowing what else to say.

There’s an undeniable sense of relief in his expression, a weight seemingly lifted off his chest at your response. He takes another deep breath, his voice a low murmur as he continues with the questions. “So, if I told you I’d let you go out as long as you promise me you’d come home every night…?”

“Then I’d stay,” you whispered, afraid to get your hopes up.

Caleb watches you, his gaze sharp and serious. He lets out a shaky exhale, feeling almost like he’s on the verge of a panic attack with how fast his heart is racing. His hand is shaking on your chin, but he manages to keep his expression as steady as possible as he continues, “No matter what, you promise you’ll come back. You promise you won’t disappear.”

“I promise,” you murmur, your voice shaky with hope.

His hand on your chin slowly relaxes, as if a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, staring at your face intently. After a moment, he pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead, his voice hoarse as he murmurs, “Thank you.”

Your face lights up and you spin around, crushing him in a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Caleb.”

He lets out a surprised huff, but his body immediately relaxes, and he wraps his arms tight around you in return. He burrows his head into your shoulder as your arms cling to him, his own hands gripping your shirt in a vice-like grip. For a few moments, he just sits there, revelling in the feeling of you holding him tight, those words you said bouncing around in his head. He was finally getting you back, even though it wasn’t much, it was still progress.

He’s on the verge of sobbing, but he manages to compose himself, instead holding you tighter and asking, “You swear you’ll come back? Every night, you swear it?”

Nodding frantically, you refuse to let go, your face buried in his shirt.

Caleb lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes clamped shut as he leans down and presses his forehead against your hair. He murmurs into it, his voice low and hoarse, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve done that to you.”

His body is tense against yours, his arms holding you tightly as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He continues his murmured apologies, a mix of guilt and desperation lacing his words. He continues to bury his face into your hair, his voice now rough and hoarse. “I never should’ve done that to you, I should never have kept you locked up and trapped like that. It was never meant to be that way, I just… I just wanted to keep you safe, but I ended up destroying you. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You're nearly too dizzy from your newfound freedom to respond, barely choking out, “S’okay, we’re okay, I’m okay.”

He can’t help it, a harsh sob escaping from his lips at your words. He can’t stop himself as he pulls you closer, burrowing his head into the crook between your neck and shoulder, his words coming out choppy and broken as he speaks through his tears. “No, no, it’s not okay, it’s not okay. I was supposed to be your protector, but I ended up hurting you worse than I probably protected you.” Caleb’s hold on you tightens even more, almost borderline painful in how much his fingers dig into your flesh. He’s crying now, full on crying, something he hadn’t done in years. He presses his face into your neck, his entire body shaking as he murmurs through his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You were slightly surprised at his clinginess, but nonetheless, you gently raked your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe the broken boy holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him here.

Caleb buries his face into your neck, his breaths coming out in hiccuping sobs, his tears wetting your skin as he continues to mumble, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s completely crumbling in your arms, the strong, stoic facade he had for the past months shattering and crumbling to pieces. He buries his face into your neck, his body shaking uncontrollably, his shoulders heaving with sobs as he holds onto you like a lifeline and repeats his apologies over and over again. “Please, please… don’t leave me... please don’t hate me, I’m sorry, I’m so goddamn sorry…”

“Shh, you’re okay baby, you’re okay. I’ve got you, I ain’t going nowhere,” you soothe, your voice hoarse from your own crying session.

He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck as he tries his best to quell the sobs still escaping him. His breath is hot and ragged, his grip on you still painfully tight. He manages to control it enough to stop the sobs, now he’s shuddering slightly as he whispers, “Baby… don’t hate me… don’t leave me…”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, no matter what you do,” you admit, voice shaking. “C’mon, you wanna go inside? It’s getting dark and cold out.”

He lets out a shaky exhale at your words, a wave of relief and gratitude passing over him. He takes a moment to collect himself, before letting out a deep exhale and nodding, his voice still trembling as he murmurs, “Yeah, let’s go inside…” and begins the slow process of detaching his limbs from around you and standing up.

Caleb lifts you up like you weigh nothing, both of you leaning on each other and hands interlaced as you head back towards the house.

He carries you most of the way, refusing to let you get your feet muddy, pausing as he holds you in the living room, “Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart? Where do you want to sleep?”

“Your bed, just leave the window and door open… please,” you murmur, barely opening your eyes.

He nods silently, his grip on you shifting slightly so he can readjust his hold.Caleb then begins walking down the hallway, making his way to his room. Once in the room, he walks to the bed and gently sets you down on it, shifting a bit so he’s sitting next to you. He pauses there, simply looking at you for a few seconds before speaking, “I’ll get the window and door, alright darling?”

You nod, curling into his bed and inhaling the scent of him.

He stands, reluctantly letting go of you so he can walk around the room, opening the window and the door before turning back to you.

He looks at you again, hesitating for a few moments before murmuring, “I’ll be right outside. Just… call for me if you need me, okay?”

You sit up, confused, “Where do you think you’re going?”

He pauses at that, looking at you for a few moments before answering, his voice soft, “Just outside the room, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you, I’m just… staying out there, in case you need me.”

“Damn right you're not leaving me, now get in the bed,” you say firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

He lets out a soft huff of laughter at the command, his heart feeling just a little lighter at the bossy tone you were using.

Caleb walks over to the bed and slowly lays down across it, staying as close to the edge as he can, still keeping his distance from you.

You huff, amused at his cautiousness. You scoot over and pull him towards the center of the bed, staying close to him just like you did befor- no, don’t think of that, he’s here and you’re free.

He lets out another soft huff, unable to fight the small smile that appears at your actions. He slides across the bed until he’s directly next to you, though he keeps his hands to himself, not making any move to touch you.

You wrap your arms around him tightly, resting your head on his chest, using him as a squishie.

He tenses momentarily at your sudden move, before relaxing and letting you wrap yourself around him, a soft huff escaping him, “You broke all your plushies so you're using me as one.”

You shrug, holding him tighter, “Maybee.”

Caleb chuckles, “Don’t worry, we can go to the arcade sometime this week, maybe go shopping or out to eat and I’ll get you more, a bunch more.”

Letting out a content hum and melt into him, closing your eyes.

He slowly relaxes further, his arms slowly lifting and wrapping around you in turn. He holds you against him, one hand gently resting on your back and the other in your hair, his fingers running through the soft strands. Caleb’s hand runs down your back in tender motions, his touch tender, almost worshipful as his fingers softly trace across your back. He listens to your breathing, letting it soothe his nerves, his grip on you slowly tightening as he continues to run his fingers through your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper, half asleep.

He pulls you closer to him as you speak, his breath shaky as he absorbs the weight of your words, the feel of your body against his, how you’re willingly staying in his arms, how you say his name.

His grip tightens even more, almost painful, desperate to know that this is real, that you’re not going to disappear. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, his words quiet, barely more than a whisper, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

As you drift off, he closes his eyes, listening to your soft, even breathing. The sound is like a balm to his soul. He lets himself doze in and out of sleep, too happy to see you like this to allow himself to rest completely. 

His arms loosen a bit, enough so he can maneuver his body so that his entire upper half is wrapped around you, almost shielding you from the world itself. And he would continue to, he’d continue to shield you from the harsh world, but, he wouldn’t imprison you, wouldn’t try to tame you. He’d let you burn, even if you incinerated him, he’d die with a smile on your face. Because he was your Caleb, no matter what could happen.

[lilithrosexoxo]

Ch. 6 Changes

You awoke with a jolt. Your head was pounding and the room looked blurry for a second. You took in your surroundings and realized it was night time and you were back in your nest.

“What happened?”, you say as you admire the swirls on your arms. Hold on, these look like Jinwoo and my father’s marks, did I awaken? But I thought only alphas could awaken? Wait what happened to make me awaken- then all of the memories rush back to you, Astrid, the blood, the pain. Tears stream down your face as you cling to your blanket. 

“I need to see her I must go”, you think to yourself as you leap off the bed. You throw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie and go to open the door but immediately hit a weight.

“Owww-“ you hear.

You peer out your room to see Jinwoo leaning against your door rubbing his head.

“Jinwoo I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were out here. What are you doing out here?”, you inquire.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone so I’ve been waiting for you to wake up”, he says looking worried.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“4 days”.

4 days!?”, God how could you have slept that long.

“Jinwo, these marks. Are they what I think they are?”.

“Yes, it looks like you’ve awakened. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that”, he says looking downcast.

“Jinwoo you still saved my life, if you wouldn’t have battled Beezlebub none of us would be here”, you say reassuring him as you prepare to leave “I need to go to Astrid, I need to plan a funeral for her”.

Jinwoo feels his mouth go dry and his throat constrict.

“You won’t be able to hold a funeral, at least not a regular one”, he says shakily.

“Why would I not be able to?” you question your scent going sour.

Jinwoo is scared, a feeling he’s not accustomed to feeling since his awakening but the thought of you hating him or fearing him makes his blood run cold. What if you think he’s a monster? He knows he has no choice, he has to accept the choice that he made. With that he summons the shadow soldier.

“Arise”.

As the soldier begins to take shape your mouth drops, “Astrid, is that you?”, you say as tears begin to well up in your eyes.

In front of you stands Astrid, a shadow version of her. Instead of flaming red hair it was jet black and she looked at you with blue eyes.

“She has her memories and personality. She can’t talk yet, only my strongest soldiers have that ability and she’s not high enough yet. I know it’s not the same but it was the only thing I could think of after seeing your awakening. I know she meant a great deal to you”, he says as he looks at you nervously.

You run up and hug Astrid and cry in her arms. She rubs soothing circles on your back.

You see Jinwoo approach you carefully, “So you’re not mad? You don’t think any differently of me?”, he says with a tremor in his voice. 

Astrid fades away and you look at Jinwoo. He has a look of uncertainty on his face and it’s not something you’ve ever seen from him before but that tells you how scared he was to do this. He knew you may react negatively but chose to do it to give you your best friend back. How could you think differently of him when it was so clear that he did this just for you. You knew he must have some negative experiences in the past with raising the dead but this did not change your view of him. If anything it only made you care for him more that he would go out of his way to do this. Astrid was nowhere near the strength of the shadow soldiers he typically recruits, no this was all for you.

You walk up to him and Jinwoo gulps and prepares for the worst but what he wasn’t prepared for was to feel your lips against his. He was hesitant at first but then relaxed into the kiss.

You pull away, “Yes you’re right I do think differently of you”, you see his eyes shatter and quickly explain, “because it’s clear that I have the kindest, strongest, and most handsome alpha of them all”, you say with a smile.

Jinwoo sighs in relief and holds your face in his hands. So many people have called him a monster for his necromancy skills but you still care for him and it warms his heart knowing his omega will always accept him. He truly feels blessed finding you. He leans in and kisses your forehead in gratitude.

“Jinwoo about my awakening, how will I figure out my powers? How will I train? I-I want to get stronger, I want to stand by your side always even on the battlefield”, you say with a determined look in your eye.

Jinwoo smiles, “I’d like that but first we need to figure out what your powers are. Let’s start with some meditation. Here let’s go sit on your bed. Now close your eyes”, he says softly.

“Take a deep breathe”

You take a deep breath in and out.

“Good, now I want you to imagine your soul. Think of an outline surrounding your body. What do you see? How do you feel?”.

You do as he says and see swirls of red and blue surrounding you. You feel hot, sweat drips down your brow and then you feel cold to the point your teeth chatter.

“ I see swirls of red and blue. It feels hot and cold like I don’t have control over my body temperature”, you say.

“I think I have an idea of what your powers can be, go ahead and open your eyes”.

You open your eyes to see blue ones staring back at you.

“You wait right here princess, I'll be right back”, he says as he leaves the room.

He returned with a glass of water and a thermos filled with water.

“Alright, here's the first glass. You should feel mana circulating through your body, focus on pouring the mana into your hands and imagine the cold”.

You do as he says and to your surprise the water turns into ice! 

You gasp, “Oh my goddess Jinwoo! Look, I did it!”, you say, jumping up and shouting happily. You never imagined a day like this would come but you’re ecstatic to learn about your powers.

He smiles up at you, “Yes you did but we’re not done yet. You saw 2 colors so that means you’re a dual user so I want you to do the same thing to this glass but instead of cold I want you to think of heat”.

You do as he says and to your surprise your hand catches on fire and the water in the thermos begins to boil.

You hear Jinwoo whistle and look up at him, “A fire and ice elemental”.

“Hmmm that shouldn’t be surprising. My father is a lightning elemental”, you say still astonished that you have these powers.

“My necromancy and spatial magic is different; it might be best to wait for your father’s return to begin your training. You must be starving, let's go to the kitchen and get you something to eat”, he says as he takes your hand and you both go to the kitchen.

“Princess Y/N you’re up!”, says Galder, the head chef. Seeing him in the kitchen this late is no surprise as he’s often ensuring that the meals are perfect and each plate is tailored to that individual’s taste buds.

“Yes I am, good evening Galder we don’t mean to intrude we were just hoping to get a quick meal”.

“It’s no problem at all princess any requests?”

“Hmmm can we have beef stew and can you make Jinwoo’s with extra meat?”.

Jinwoo smiles at that. It’s something he was going to request and he appreciated how you were already taking notice of his eating habits.

“Of course it would be my pleasure to cook for you and Alpha Sung”, Galder says as he begins cooking up a storm, “You two wait in the dining room I’ll bring out your meals shortly”, he says shooing you both out the kitchen.

xoxo

You and Jinwoo sit at the dining table next to each other feeling like stuffed pigs after demolishing the beef stew. You think now is a good topic to approach something you’ve been curious about.

“Hmmm, Jin?”, you call to him nervously.

“Yes Y/N?”

“If you feel comfortable talking about it, what caused your awakening?”.

Jinwoo takes a deep breath,” Just like you, I lost someone. My best friend Jinho, it was before I awakened. These other alphas recruited us for a goblin dungeon raid. We were just supposed to be the pack mules but they used us as bait. I made it out alive but Jinho wasn’t as lucky as me. He- he was ripped to shreds right in front of me”.

You take his hand into yours,” I’m so sorry you lost him Jinwoo. I know he’s watching over you from the skies above”.

“Thank you Y/N. We should retreat to our rooms. It’s late and you need plenty of rest. You’ll have to start your training when your father returns. I haven’t forgotten Beezlebub’s claims that he said his brothers would take over this dimension. It could very well mean war in the near future”.

You both walk back to your room and Jinwoo kisses you goodnight. As he relaxes on the bed he has the nagging feeling like he’s forgetting something important. Well surely it can’t be that important if he’s forgotten right?

[calummss]

Bleeding into Nightfall | Klaus Mikaelson

masterlist

summary: life is gloomy and you’re tired of repetitive days that don’t get better. you say goodbye to the world forgetting about once person in paticular—niklaus mikaelson

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 3k

a/n: story of my life with the love of my life

tw: heavy descriptions of depression, suicide!!!

Waking up every day was like waking up from the calm and facing the storm. Days bleeding into nightfall. Day after day starting to warp into each other, each day as listless as the day before. Mystic falls’ grey gloomy clouds constantly above your head as you managed to get out of bed. You kind of found common ground with autumn mornings. You enjoyed them more than any other morning but enjoy is a strong word for someone like you. Autumn mornings are dark that make it look like it was three in the morning. A time where nobody in this world expects a single thing from you. Just you alone existing in this world.

You brush your teeth.

Comb your hair.

Put on an outfit.

Make yourself look presentable so that nobody would be able to tell just how empty you felt. How draining it was getting ready when you could easily wear the same pair of clothes day and night. Forget about your appearance as you just try to pass the day.

Leaving the house you took one last look in the mirror with the same face you wish you could rip off, but instead you put on your best genuine smile that didn’t make you look like a manic sociopath and closed the door to make your way to school.

13 hours and 30 minutes to go.

Out of 24 hours you only feel okay for a couple. And it’s not even that you feel good, you just feel okay. You just try to get through the day. It’s been like this for a while. Time wailing past you, time wailing before you that has you trapped. You wake up. Go to school. Eat and sleep. Sometimes you don’t even eat or sleep. The easiest tasks seem impossible to complete. Why do you have to waste such a long amount of time? You’d be perfectly fine with only living eighteen years instead of eighty. You don’t do anything all day but you’re exhausted each time you lay down in bed, ready to shut your eyes. Still, you drag yourself through the day like cattle; unable to break free from what's holding you back.

The walk to school isn’t too long. Rustling leaves on trees, crunching of dead leaves that were kicked up into the air with each step you took, the thought of simply being a leaf on your mind as you barely noticed the person ahead.

‘I’m so sorry— Caroline…hi. I’m sorry,’ you lifted your head from the ground to see Caroline’s smile. ‘I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings,’

‘Yeah, I could tell.’ She gleamed, hooking her arm into yours as you continued walking the last blocks.

It was an okay walk. Your ears picking up different sounds of your surroundings as the mixture of sounds seemed to be blocking out your thoughts. It's too hard to concentrate on them.

‘Do you have anything planned for your outfit on Saturday?’ Caroline broke you from the chattering of your mind, hearing her voice bringing you back to the present.

You stared at her. Your eyes on her, your face hanging from your head as you stayed quiet, pressing your lips against each other as her smile turned to a frown.

‘Y/n, come on,’ she moaned, the sparkles in her eyes duplicating as she stared back at you. Her personality reminding you of the warmth of a fireplace on a cold evening. ‘It’s the school dance! It’s so important that we make these memories to look back on them when we’re old and wrinkly,’

‘I think I have enough memories.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I just don’t really feel like going, that's all…’

‘Why not?’ She came to a halt, taking her arm from you so she could stand perfectly square of you, her arms folded in front of her chest as the wind blew her hair from the back.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrugged, ‘I just don’t want to go.’

‘Not even to please Klaus? I mean no offence—‘ (Caroline’s favourite way to start being offensive) ‘But no one knows what he sees in you. I mean he’s this grumpy old maniac that terrifies the vampire species and you’re just…you. A human with a normal life. A nice girl that just, in comparison to him, lives a boring life.’

‘I don’t know, Caroline,’ you huffed, picking up pace again, readjusting your school bag. Feet sluggishly bringing you forth. ‘He’s nice to me and he makes me forget certain aspects of my life but even for him I wouldn’t go.’

‘What’s wrong with you, Y/n?’ Caroline held you back again, stopping once more. ‘Are you okay? I’ve noticed that you seem off for a while now and I didn’t want to pry but I cannot hold myself back any longer. What happened? What is it that’s making you so glum all the time?’

‘I’m okay, Caroline,’ you half smiled, ‘I think I’d just rather go home and watch a movie or something.’

Caroline opened her mouth but before she could say another word you cut her off, ‘And before you offer yourself as my sleepover company, I think I’d rather be alone.’ You started walking again, the school doors only a few minutes away. ‘Besides, I know you want to be a good friend by wanting to come over but you and I both know that deep down you hoped I would say no because you want to go to the dance, and that is fine. Make those memories, Caroline! Your life has so many blank pages left to fill and I don’t want to hold you back! Go and have fun.’

Caroline immediately pulled you into a hug. Her perfume hitting your nostrils as you placed your arms around her, a quick smile forming on your lips.

‘Come on now,’ you took hold of her arm, ‘We need to get there on time otherwise Rick will have us doing detention the rest of the week.’

‘Do you think he dislikes us?’

‘No, I actually think it’s his way of showing that he cares,’ you let out a giggle that infected Caroline as you walked onto the school premises just as the bell rang for first period.

School was the same every day. Go to class. Pay attention. Write down notes. Stare outside of the window, the teacher’s voice fading into silence as your mind powered through to absent you from life.

Everyone seems so content with life? Why can’t I? What is there to be happy about?

‘Miss Jacobs, the action is here. Not outside.’ Mrs. Clark said, snapping your head to the front of the class. ‘If my class is boring you’re welcome to go outside.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Now, where was I?’

10 hours to go.

When the school bell rang for the last time, you started to clear your table and cram all your stuff into your bag, people pushing past you as everyone tried to leave. Out in the hall you quickly waved Caroline, Elena and Bonnie goodbye, ready to go home and sit in silence.

Plugging in your headphones you slowly started to walk home, music blasting through your ears and you tried to block out any sound from the world.

Trees and cars passed you, barely anyone on the pavement. You kept walking when you noticed a person in the distance; dressed in dark colours, stance confident and a face you could recognise from a mile away.

‘Hi.’ You gave him your best smile, not too much, not too little.

‘I hear there’s a school dance this saturday,’ he accompanied you towards your home. ‘I was hoping that I could ask you to the dance.’

‘I’m actually not going.’

‘Why?’

‘Don’t feel like going, that’s all.’ You shared a quick glance.

His pupils dilated, eyebrows drawn together, the skin between them wrinkled. ‘Are you okay, Y/n.’ He gently grabbed a hold of your upper arm, the frequent blinking of his eyes telling you that you made him worry.

‘I’m fine,’ you chuckled, your crooked smile paired with dull, sparkless eyes not in your favour.

‘Don’t give me that bullshit.’

‘Klaus, please. I’m not in a mood to argue right now.’

‘Arguing?’ His eyebrows drew his eyebrows even closer. ‘We’re just talking.’

‘Look, Klaus.’ You stopped in your tracks, allowing yourself to stare up at his face. Lips plush, eyes squinted as his focus was on you. ‘I see that you want to go to the dance with me and if I were up to it I would, but I would just rather go home. Watch a movie. Be alone. Get away from all this,’ you sighed.

‘Okay,’

‘Okay.’ You breathed, ‘See you around, okay?’ You got on your tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his cheek before walking home.

‘Yeah, see you around.’ Klaus mumbled as you were already out of earshot, leaving him confused as to what was happening to you.

6 hours to go.

When you arrived home you went straight upstairs. Throwing your bag into a corner of your room as you wasted no time to change into more comfortable clothes like your lounging outfit (a pyjama). Down the stairs you walked into the kitchen, taking a bag of doritos and a bar of chocolate from the cupboard, a glass of water to wash down the junk and placed them onto the coffee table. Snatching a blanket from the living room trunk, you made yourself comfortable and put on the TV, ready to watch the Big Bang Theory and waste your time.

‘Y/h honey,’ your mother’s heels sounded through the living room. ‘It’s date night so we’ll be home quite late.’

‘Mhm.’

‘Make sure to get some healthy carbs and protein in you too, okay darling?’

‘Yeah, mom. Have fun.’ You said, your eyes haven’t left the screen.

‘See you later.’

The door closed. Silence swept the house. Your TV the only thing that sounded within the walls. Sighing, you took a row of chocolate and let out a half-sounded giggle as you continued watching TV.

1 hour left to go.

8:50pm; it was time to go upstairs. You put away the stuff you used, made sure the windows and doors were locked and the lights turned off. The floorboard creaked with every step you took. Going into your bedroom you halted in front of your dresser, picking up the framed family portrait that you took on a trip to the family cabin on christmas day.

Your lips started pressing together, your fingers on the back of the frame scraping against the wood as a blink of your eyes let the first two tears roll down your cheek. Your heart twisted, aching with every shaky breath you took, a sting of melancholy growing inside your throat.

4 minutes to go.

You placed it back on the dresser, taking another glance at your room before taking off to the bathroom where you closed the door and took a long look in the mirror: messed up hair, red puffy eyes that blinked uncontrollably, the face of a person you never got to know.

Wiping away your tears you opened the cabinet and grabbed the packet of razors you purchased just last week in preparation for tonight.

Taking a deep breath you climbed into the bathtub, letting your back fall against the wall, a new surge of emptiness growing as you realised that you were going to be utterly alone when you went.

The cold metal pierced into your soft skin like fresh butter. The warmth of your blood no longer flowing like it normally did but instead poured onto your skin. Quiet drips spilling into the bathtub, staining your clothes on the way. Once your blood started spilling you didn’t feel any great pain, it hurt, but it was manageable. You hoped it wouldn’t, however seeing all the blood that was streaming from your cut, made your heart start to beat at immense speed.

Then the sweating started to begin. Your body was damp, head to toe and toe to head. You thought back on the days you went running. Every time you finished you’d have the same, wet, and uncomfortable sweat sitting on your skin, soaking into your clothes. A deeply unpleasant feeling started to make itself noticeable, heart pounding in your chest, throbbing with pain, but there was nothing you could do. Neither did you want to. You wanted nothing more than to disappear from the earth’s surface. You didn’t need to be here. Trapped with nowhere to go. No one would miss you. You barely had anyone but yourself and that was all you needed. Even in death you felt comforted by your own thoughts. A very strong headache, accompanied by a loud, white noise ringing almost made you regret your decision. The room spun like crazy before your vision started fading out; the ringing got louder as darkness came for you…

Klaus made his way to your house. He didn’t like the way you were acting before you left. Your behaviour hasn’t left his mind since you last spoke. He turned into your driveway and jogged up the stairs, ringing the bell to hope that you would open up to him. To let him make you feel better. To let you know that he would do anything to see you happy.

But you never answered.

‘Y/n, open the door.’ Klaus raised his voice, his fist hitting against the door.

No answer.

‘Y/n!’ He slammed the door again.

Still, nothing.

Klaus focused his hearing to see if you were home when he suddenly heard shallow breaths; breaths he knew belonged to you. Without wasting another second Klaus kicked down the door, his vampire speed taking him to the location of decreased breaths. Almost taking the bathroom door off its hinges, Klaus found you sitting in the tub; red staining your body, head hanging sideways.

‘Y/N!’ He bellowed, falling to his knees, his arms hooking under your lump torso, pulling you out of the tub. The lack of tension in your body making his heart fall into an empty pit.

‘No, no, no, no, no,’ Klaus’ hands grabbed the sides of your face, twisting and turning. Hoping that your eyes would flatter open and greet him with a smile. A smile he held dear to his heart. But they stayed closed, his eyes getting blurrier the longer he fought.

‘Don’t you die on me!’ Klaus bit into his wrists, placing it on your lips, letting the blood flow into your system, his shaking arm staining your lower half of your face red. ‘You do not get to die! Wake up! Wake up…’

You stayed still. Just as lifeless as before you weighed Klaus’ body to the ground, his tears falling to your chest, pulling you close as his heart ached greater than it ever had. His reason to be good went without saying goodbye, leaving him to be alone like he had been for hundreds of centuries.

Klaus has heard thousands of heartbeats stop. Seen thousands of bodies covered in blood. Thousands of dead people. He didn’t know why it was so hard to see you there when he had been through this a million times. He felt empty. Everything about you came crashing down, his hope for hearing you say his name draining into nothingness. Klaus’ breathing grew louder, his chest feeling like it was being filled with water, the same water that spilled from his lashes, staring down at someone he always put first; forever wishing he hadn’t let you go home by yourself that afternoon.

Suddenly your body jolted forwards, gasping for air. Eyes wide as you took a large gulp of air, your chest rising and falling.

‘Y/n?’ Klaus whispered, his hands back on your face. ‘Y/n, y/n, talk to me.’

You coughed in response, droopy eyes making it hard to see your surroundings, blurry vision fading into one big blob of colour.

‘Y/n, say something please…’

‘Klaus,’ you whispered so quietly, lips barely parting as you spoke.

‘Can you hear me?’

‘Yes, what— what happened?’

‘What happened, Y/n?’ Klaus’ voice increased in volume.’You almost died on me!’ His tone shook.

‘Am— Am I a vampire?’ You started to come back to your old self. Your vision clearing up, your ears no longer feeling like a tunnel.

‘No, my blood just healed you.’ He caressed your head, softly stroking your hair.

‘Why did you save me?’

‘Why?’ A frown painted his lip, ‘I care about you, Y/n! So much. You don’t deserve to die. How could you leave me without saying goodbye?’

‘I didn’t want to say goodbye to you Klaus because if I would’ve looked at your face and said those words, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. It would’ve made leaving so much harder.’

‘Look at me,’ his thumb swiped across your cheek, ‘this is the face of someone who will never let you die or get hurt,’

Your heart clenched as you looked at him, tears pooling at your lower lash line. ‘Klaus—‘

‘Please promise me to not leave without saying goodbye first,’

‘You have to promise, Y/n…’

‘What makes you think I don’t want to die anymore, Klaus?’

Klaus stared back at you; empty eyes, no thoughts to be said out loud.

‘Promise me to not kill yourself, seriously? What makes you think I won’t try to do this again? I love you Klaus, I do, but my love is not bigger than my will to live.’

‘Y/n, stop talking…’

‘Why? Because you thought I’d thank you for saving me? I didn’t want to be saved, Nik! I never wanted to. All I wanted was for all of this shit to go away and you brought me back to this shit.’

‘Y/n, please,’

‘Leave.’

‘What?’

‘I said leave!’

‘No!’

‘LEAVE!’

‘NO!’

Tears started streaming down your face, ‘Fuck you, Nik.’ And you stood up to go to your room.

Klaus stayed over the next several days. Sleeping against your closed door as he tried to patch things back up. But it was your decision to make a change, and your decision to forgive him.

[chericherilvr]

I'm supposed to be sleeping right now, but I can't stop thinking about jungsu😞

he's just so cute and I wanna cuddle him so bad. I also keep thinking about when he said that he cannot sleep without hugging something (which I can very much relate to)

i wanted to ask if you could maybe write something fluffy about cuddling him or falling asleep with him? 🫶

Lucky to be loved - Jungsu x reader

summary: Jungsu can't sleep without hugging something—or that one time he found someone to sleep with. w/c: 626 warnings: fluffy, I go on my existential cute rants, reader likes to think (used I and you pronouns for that part to symbolize you and Jungsu, but overall it's in second POV) I don't think I cursed… but there's the usage of death as a metaphor of the love experience (it's cute I promise) overall FLUFF a/n: took me a while to be able to write but hope you enjoy it!!

The night shall come once the sun is down. It's the only way we even have the concept of time. The pattern realisation that, things change, the sky doesn't stay the same way. I wonder who first looked at the sky and saw the sun fade away. I wonder if the first time, the moon was full—or if the emptiness of it left them surrounded by darkness, scared of it. Who first realised that it happened each day? Who choose the word to talk about it with their peers? Who was the first person to have a night routine and, how did it look?

I sometimes get scared of the concept of day and night. Now that I talk with people around the world, it amazes me how they can still see the sun—while the moon looks scared to be seen in my sky.

All the stars that we see are dead. Did you know that? The light reflecting from the beautiful masses of light can be so far away that, by the time we get to see them, they don't exist any more. Time in the universe works so funnily; if seen from far enough, you could still see dinosaurs walking on earth.

So when I stare up at the sky, in search of connection, hoping someone is looking back at it—day or night—wishing for the same: I stare at all the dead stars and bask in their corpse; I bask in their light. I've never felt as comforted by something like by the stars. They still shine even when they are gone. They are still present even though far. Like a good memory from long ago—it might not exist any more, but it still lingers and warps its arms around me.

In all honesty, the comfort the universe gives me could never be matched. We're truly just in a floating dead rock following mass, that is following mass, that is following mass. It's so dead it's alive. It's so meaningless, all of it, that moments like this gain meaning. Without you, there's still life. But I am so lucky to be loved by you, I am so lucky we decided to give meaning to each other.

"You're being all philosophical again," Jungsu groans rolling in your arms to face you.

"How did you even know? I thought you were asleep by now."

He keeps quiet closing his eyes and stretching his arms out behind you with a sigh.

"Never let me be small spoon again," he says shaking his head.

Jungsu's arms fold carefully around your body, tension melting away. His lips curl into a smile—the kind you can't force yourself to do. He rubs your back for a while and, when he is satisfied, he straddles his leg over your waist and hugs you closer.

"So no to small spoon, but yes to choking me to death?" Your voice gets lost in between Jungsu's hair, who moved his face to be buried on your neck.

"You love it," he kisses your skin softly.

"You know, the first time you asked me to sleep with you, I thought you meant something completely different…"

Jungsu let's out some incoherent complaints. And by the time you try to ask him what he said, he was already out.

The day shall come once the moon is down. But lord was it the worst time of the day. Morning meant movement, and the only movement I want is to be here. Oh, to be drowned by your touch, by your comfort. I sometimes wish for death; to lay in your arms forever, like this, may we be so close we melt into one being. Thus, this world might hold no meaning, but here, I am a worthy being.