#Is it because you yanks are weak for British accents?

[whysamwhy123]

About a minute or so into the one women's match and Nigel starts talking about himself, putting himself over instead of the talent in the ring 🙂🙂🙂

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

A/N 2 - Him in this outfit is MMM

five - make him hurt, make me bleed

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

A man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes strolled into the newly opened diner where Olivia met Tom, whistling under his breath. His phone was on, a photo of him and a redheaded woman displaying a ring on the lock screen, a heart drawn around her made up face. A worker called Dan put down his mop, strolling over with a sunny smile. “Evening, sir, can I help you?”

“Yeah, thanks, man.” The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. “I’m, uh, I’m lookin’ for my son. His name’s Tom Holden. Have you seen him?”

“He went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.” Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the man’s character. “Why, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, y’know.”

“Oh, that’d be great.” He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. “Just tell him his old man’s in town, yeah?” 

“Does his old man have a name?” Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.

“Oh! Oh, yeah.” The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. “Harry. Harry Holden.”

NOW:

“Alright, you know what to do.” I gestured in front, leaning back in my seat as I glanced at Olivia. “We’re moving onto slower roads, so clutch, change gears.” She did as I asked, and I grinned, clapping as quietly as I could to not spook her. “Good work, sweetheart. You’re a natural, just like your mom.” We pulled up at a grocery store, so I grabbed my wallet, prepping to get out. “Hang tight, gun’s in the glovebox, keep the car door locked until you see me at the passenger’s door, ok?”

“Got it, auntie.” She nodded, so I relaxed, getting out of the car. I shut the door, making my way inside the store while whistling a little tune. I made a beeline for the fruits, picking up a basket on the way before picking out the best ones, dropping them into my basket. My whistling turned into a hum, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face before inspecting a box of strawberries.

“Sunflower, I’m plannin’ on making some strawberry cheesecake, do you think these are good?” Lucy held up a box of rasberries, grinning innocently because if she didn’t know. I smirked knowingly, and replaced the box of raspberries with a box of strawberries. “Oh! Thanks. Silly me.”

“Issy?” I was yanked reluctantly out of the memory, looking up and my blood running cold as I saw… Harry. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly. “It is you, oh, I knew it!” There he goes again with that British accent that makes my skin crawl. It used to make my knees weak.

“Harry.” I sighed, smiling politely, but it faltered when I saw Rhea walk up with… Tom. I locked eyes with the boy and it clicked instantly, a sharp pang of pain shooting through my chest. “And Tom’s… your son?”

“You know my boy?” Harry grinned, clapping Tom on the shoulder. “Well, my darling-” He held Rhea’s hand, which I noticed had a shiny ring on it, “and I adopted Tom a while ago. Rhea, you know Isabelle, right?”

“You’re Tom’s old friend, right?” The redhead smiled, putting out her hand. “Rhea Summers- no, sorry, Holden. Rhea Holden, neé Summers, it’s hard to compute.”

I shook her hand, forcing a chuckle, my mouth feeling dry. “Elle Joyner.”

“Three’s a crowd, but four’s a party.” I heard a familiar Texas accent behind me, and I instantly knew it was Beau, and he laid a protective hand on my shoulder. Harry’s eyebrow twitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he glanced between Beau and I. “Who’s this, sweetheart?” He knew exactly who this was, so it confused me a little.

“Harry Holden.” Harry introduced, putting out his hand for Beau to shake, seemingly bothered and slightly intimidated since the man was taller than him. “I’m, uh, Elle’s old friend.” Beau’s eyebrow quirked, instantly clocking that Harry was lying. But he shook the latter’s hand anyway, adopting a smile.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen.” He introduced, putting unnecessary emphasis on the first word of the sentence. He then put his hand on my hip, drawing me closer in a manner that was almost possessive. “I’m Belle’s boyfriend.” Oh. Oh, we’re doing that. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, then decided to play along, kissing Beau’s cheek (albeit I had to stand en pointe, and I am NO ballet dancer). I saw a tinge of red flood his cheeks, but he affectionately rubbed my side with a chuckle.

“Your boyfriend.” Harry repeated quietly before clearing his throat and raising his voice slightly. “Well, Olivia will be seeing Tom tonight, won’t she? I’ll drop her off, if that’s ok.”

“Mhmm, yeah, it’s ok. I’ll, uh, see you tonight.” I nodded, swallowing as Beau’s grip felt more prominent on my hip, as if he tightened it slightly. When Harry, Rhea and Tom trotted off like the happy family I seldom had but wanted, I turned to Beau with an apologetic look. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.” He smirked, kissing my cheek in what I assumed was revenge, because my ears went red, my eyes widening slightly as I swallowed on a dry throat.

So… more of an attempt.

In the dimly lit basement of an abandoned warehouse, Cal Joyner found himself bound to a rusty chair, the metallic restraints digging into his flesh, adding to the weight of fear and desperation already bearing down on him. The flickering bulb overhead cast erratic shadows that danced across the grimy walls, framing his captors—members of a notorious crime syndicate—as they loomed over him with a menacing presence.

Remy, a burly man with a scarred face and eyes as cold as steel, stepped forward and snarled, "You think we're playing games here, Cal? We want Lucy's phone, and we want it now."

Cal's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist. His pulse raced, and his throat felt dry. "I already told you, I don't have it!" he protested, his voice strained with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I don't know where it is."

Beside Remy, another thug with a menacing smirk etched into his features cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you need a little more convincing," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.

Cal's thoughts flashed back to that haunting night six years ago when Lucy, his beloved daughter, was taken from him. The pain was still raw, a wound that refused to heal. The memory of her murder lingered like a relentless specter, its grip tightening with each passing moment. And now, these men were threatening his only remaining daughter.

"You touch Elle," Cal spat, his eyes burning with defiance, "and I swear—"

The thug cut him off with a menacing laugh. "Oh, we will touch her, Cal. Unless you start being honest with us."

Cal's jaw clenched, his mind racing through a fog of fear and desperation. He was backed into a corner, and lying was second nature to him, even in this dire circumstance. "I already told you, Lucy's phone is gone. Destroyed."

Remy's patience wore thin. He seized Cal by the collar, his grip like iron. "Listen, you scum. We know you're lying. Lucy kept everything on that phone—information that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum o’ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."

Cal's eyes flickered towards the door, his thoughts scrambling for a way out. But the goon's grip tightened, yanking him back into the harsh reality of his predicament.

"Last chance, Cal," Remy growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Where. Is. The. Phone?"

In that tense moment, Cal's mind raced. He thought of his daughter, of the desperate need to protect her as she tried to protect him. He had to buy time, he had to think. "I don’t know!" he blurted out, his voice trembling. "I… don’t know."

The thug exchanged a skeptical glance with Remy before nodding. "You've got twenty-four hours. If you don't come up with answers, we'll bring Elle here."

As the syndicate members filed out of the room, leaving Cal alone with his thoughts, he sagged against the chair, his heart heavy with dread. The cold sweat that had formed on his brow trickled down his temple, and his hands shook uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm the tumultuous storm raging within him. The memories of Lucy flooded back—her bright smile, her laughter, her dreams shattered by a cruel twist of fate. He couldn't let the same fate befall his only remaining daughter. He had to find a way out of this, but the odds seemed insurmountable.

Hours passed in agonizing silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside—a world oblivious to the terror festering in this forsaken basement. Cal's mind raced through a labyrinth of regrets and fears, each turn leading him deeper into despair.

When the basement door creaked open once more, Cal's heart skipped a beat. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit space as Remy and his men returned, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows against the grimy walls. The flickering bulb overhead bathed them in an eerie light, rendering their expressions unreadable beneath the dance of light and shadow.

Remy's gaze bore into Cal like steel. "Well, Cal, any revelations?" His voice was low and commanding, cutting through the tense silence that enveloped the basement.

Cal's throat felt dry as he searched desperately for words, any words that could appease these dangerous men. His mind raced, grappling with fear and uncertainty. "I've been trying to remember," he stammered, his voice hoarse with anxiety. "But it's all a blur. Please, just give me more time."

The thug standing beside Remy snorted dismissively. "Time's up, old man. We're not in the business of waiting."

Remy's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin like fraying rope. "You're testing our goodwill, Cal. That's dangerous territory."

Cal's pulse quickened as he felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on him. He knew he was running out of options, but the thought of Elle's safety propelled him forward, a flicker of determination igniting within the depths of his despair.

And then, as if a spark of inspiration had ignited in the darkness, Cal's gaze fell upon the shadows creeping along the walls—the same shadows that had become his silent allies in this harrowing ordeal.

"I remember something," Cal began, his voice steadier now, laced with a glimmer of hope amidst the prevailing fear. "It's a long shot, but... Lucy used to talk about a storage unit she kept for sentimental stuff. Maybe the phone is there."

Remy's eyes narrowed further, skepticism etched into every line of his scarred face. "Don't play games with us, Cal."

"I'm not," Cal insisted, the lie slipping effortlessly from his lips. "I'll take you there. Just... spare Elle."

The thug exchanged a meaningful glance with Remy, their silent communication speaking volumes of the danger that lingered in the air. After a tense moment of deliberation, Remy finally nodded, a glimmer of reluctant acceptance in his eyes.

"Fine, Cal," Remy relented, his voice tinged with caution. "You've got one chance. Lead the way."

Relief flooded through Cal like a rushing tide, though he masked it behind a façade of determination. He knew he was treading on thin ice, balancing on a knife's edge between deception and survival. But for his youngest’s sake, he would navigate this treacherous path with unwavering resolve.

As they unbound him from the rusty chair, Cal's limbs felt heavy with both exhaustion and renewed purpose. He rose to his feet, the cold basement air biting against his skin as he prepared to embark on this perilous journey.

Together, they ascended from the depths of the basement, stepping out into the frigid embrace of the night. The distant sounds of the city seemed muffled, drowned out by the weight of their shared secrets and impending dangers.

Cal led the way through narrow alleyways, empty highways and deserted streets for hours that felt like days, his mind racing with the urgency of their mission. Each step forward carried the weight of uncertainty, a delicate dance between deceit and salvation.

The storage unit Lucy had mentioned existed on the outskirts of town—a forgotten corner obscured by neglect and urban decay. As they approached the weathered metal door, Cal's heart hammered against his chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope.

He fumbled with the lock, the metallic clink resonating in the silence of the night. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior cluttered with dusty boxes and forgotten relics.

Remy and his men followed closely behind, their wary eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of deception. Cal's gaze swept over the disarray, his memories of Lucy flooding back with a poignant ache.

"She kept it somewhere here," Cal murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved cautiously through the labyrinth of forgotten treasures, his hands trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He searched desperately, found object after object, but no phone. He knew that the game was up, that his lies had only gotten so far. “I swear, it’s here-” He collapsed in a crumpled, lifeless heap as a gunshot rang out through the hollow space, smoke pluming from Remy’s gun as he blew it off.

“My patience wore thin.” Remy’s sighed, storing the gun back in its holster. He turned to the rest of his team, nodding resignedly. “You lot know what to do.”

Markham poured himself a glass of wine, trying to settle his nerves as he set the table for dinner. Olivia was visiting for the weekend, as she did when no one was at home, per the arrangement with her aunt. Markham’s relationship with Olivia was polite but distant, a delicate balance between the roles of stepfather and guardian. He often struggled to connect with her, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.

When Olivia entered the dining room, her eyes brightened at the sight of the beautifully set table. “Wow, this looks amazing, Mark,” she said with a warm smile, taking her seat.

Mark nodded, attempting a smile in return. “Thank you, Olivia. I’m glad you’re here.” He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

Olivia glanced up from her plate, her expression softening. “I’ve been good, thank you,” she replied politely. “School’s going well. Aunt Isa says hi, by the way.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mark said, trying to hide his disappointment at the mention of Olivia’s aunt. “Listen, Liv, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Olivia looked up curiously, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. “Sure, what is it?”

Mark took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time for a change. I know you’ve been living with your aunt for a while now, but I’d like you to consider staying with me permanently.”

Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise, and then her brow furrowed slightly. “Oh,” she said softly, setting her fork down. “I… I appreciate that, Mark, but I really like living with Aunt Isa. She’s been taking care of me for so long, and I feel comfortable there.”

“I understand,” Mark replied, trying to keep his tone even. “But I think it would be good for us to spend more time together, to get to know each other better.”

Olivia fidgeted with her napkin, a troubled look crossing her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, Mark. You’re nice to me and everything. It’s just… Aunt Isa has always been there for me. She’s like a second mom.”

Mark’s heart sank a little at Olivia’s words. He had hoped that she would see him as more than just a distant figure in her life. “I see,” he said quietly, hiding his disappointment behind a forced smile. “Well, I want you to be happy, Olivia. That’s the most important thing.”

Olivia nodded, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mark. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mark said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I just want what’s best for you.”

The rest of the dinner passed in strained conversation, both Mark and Olivia making an effort to keep things light. As they finished their meal, Mark cleared his throat again, summoning the courage to address the inevitable.

“Well, Olivia,” he began, “it’s getting late. I should take you back to your aunt’s place.”

Olivia nodded, pushing her plate aside. “Okay,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

Mark stood up and walked around the table to where Olivia was sitting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. “Thank you for coming over, Olivia. I always enjoy having you here.”

Olivia looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you, Mark. I’m sorry I can’t… you know…”

Mark smiled sadly, squeezing her shoulder gently. “It’s alright, Olivia. Maybe one day things will be different.”

Olivia nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Mark fetched his keys and jacket, and together they made their way to the door. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag, her movements slow and deliberate.

Outside, Mark held open the car door for Olivia, waiting patiently as she settled into the passenger seat. As he drove towards her aunt’s house, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken words.

When they arrived, Mark pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. He turned to Olivia, his expression earnest. “Take care of yourself, Olivia,” he said softly.

Olivia nodded, her eyes shining. “You too, Mark.”

I opened the door, adopting a wide smile as I ignored the mixture of red, blue and green cars, along with a random black sedan, as my eyes focused on Olivia, her golden curls bouncing as she bounded up to me. She threw her arms around me, and I returned it with a laugh. “I missed you too, gumdrop.” I grinned, kissing her hair. “C’mon, I got ice cream.” I led her inside, closing the door with a curt nod to Mark. “What flavour are you feelin’ tonight? Vanilla or mint chocolate chip?”

“How about both?”

“I like the way you think.” I smirked, going to the freezer and pulling out the two tubs. “We’re gonna have this snack before heading to the sheriff’s trailer, because he hosts movie night. That ok with you?” I gave her a soft smile, only willing to go if she was.

However, her eyes lit up and so did the rest of her face, a broad grin spreading on her lips. “Yeah, of course! I still can’t get over the fact that my aunt has movie nights with the sheriff.” Olivia smirked. “Is there something you’re not telling me-?”

“Olivia Autumn Barlowe, where do you get these ideas from?” I passed her a bowl of ice cream with a laugh. “Jenny, Cassie and Carla will be there too.” I gave her a stern look, but couldn’t help but break into giggles again alongside her. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” I was about to open my mouth, but there was a loud bang on the door. My hand rubbed my exposed forearm from where my plaid shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a small frown on my face as another, more forceful bang shook the doorframe. It didn’t sound like it’d hold, and the many men’s voices from outside told me that this was a situation that I needed to get Olivia out of. I grabbed the keys to the back door just as a look of terror crossed her pretty features, breaking my heart.

“A-Auntie? What’s going on?” She whispered, looking to me with pleading eyes. I walked over quickly, acting on my feet and putting the keys in her hand.

“I don’t know. But you need to go.” I gripped her shoulders tight, my eyes flickering to the door, which was echoing- bang, bang, bang - and making it hard to think as the door rattled on what I knew were now flimsy hinges. “Out of the back door, ok? Our phones are upstairs, so there’s no time to get ‘em. Don’t get in the car, they might see you. Just run, keep on running, you know where Sheriff Arlen’s trailer is. Go tell him what’s happening, and he has backup with him already, ok? I need you to be strong for me and stay calm, alright?” Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, so I hugged her quickly, then kissed her forehead. “Please, sweetie. Run.” And she did what she was told right as the door busted down. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, ready to attack. Five men rushed in, all younger, taller, and with stronger builds.

There’s no way I was winning this fight.

“There’s Cal Joyner’s little girl.” One of them smirked, stepping towards me. “And she’s got a knife.”

“She’s a pretty little thing.” Another added with a matching wolffish grin. “D’you reckon we should have our fun with her?” The statement made my blood run cold and heart thank my mind over and over that I got Olivia out.

“Not if she’s wielding that pigstick.”

“That won’t be a problem, Yates, we’ll have that out of her hands in seconds.”

“Don’t you dare.” I spoke up, holding the knife out cautiously, trying to remain strong. “Deputy Elle Joyner, Sheriff’s Department. Tell me what you’ve done to Cal.”

“Cal’s got a bullet in his brain, sugar lips.” The one at the front chuckled, stepping forward, and with one clean swipe, his beefy hand knocked the knife out of my hand, another fist connecting with my cheek and knocking me to the floor. My fingers touched my bloody lip gingerly, but I found my back crashing through the glass coffee table, the shards slicing my clothes and skin. My brain tried to compute the pain as I let out a small groan, even more so when the wood of my dining table chair came into view. I rolled over, letting it hit my back with a strangled cry.

Olivia was running like her life depended on it- or her aunt’s, more accurately, sprinting over to Beau’s trailer with her legs pumping and tears flying from her pretty blue eyes.

“Say, is Belle gonna take any longer?” Beau chuckled deeply, his fingers drumming on the chair leg.

“Give her some time, Beau.” Carla chastised. “She has a life.”

“Yeah, Beau.” Jenny smirked, nudging him with a cheeky grin.

“You tell her, Carla.” Cassie added with a giggle, and when Beau looked to Emily for support, she shrugged in a way that said ‘don’t look at me’.

“You inducted my daughter into your little support group.” Beau faux-gasped. “I’ll never forgive you. Never-”

“SHERIFF!” Olivia came bounding up the driveway, and all of them sensed right away that something was seriously wrong. Beau met her halfway, catching Olivia as she practically collapsed into his arms with rasping, shaky breaths, on the verge of having a panic attack.

“Easy, Liv, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked with a frown, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. “Shh, easy, talk to me.”

“It’s A-Aunt Isa!” She cried, holding onto him like a lifeline. The sentence made Jenny, Cassie and Carla stand up, the latter gesturing for Emily to stay put. “Some men s-started breaking d-down the door, s-she told me to run; why did I run-”

“I’ve got you.” Beau nodded, sharing a look with Jenny and Cassie. “Your aunt’s gonna be ok. I’m gonna go with Jenny. You stay here, with Carla and Cassie, alright? I won’t let anythin’ happen to her, sweetheart. I promise.” Then he turned to Jenny, grabbing his keys from a side table. “Hoyt, let’s go.”

“I’ll call for an ambulance.” Jenny announced, pulling out her phone as they rushed to Beau’s car, Jenny’s panicked voice and the emergency line operator filling the atmosphere. After a drive that felt like an eternity, they pulled up at their destination and almost leapt out to find the door ajar and shards of glass and splinters of wood on the floor, along with a stain of red that only sent chills down their bones.

“BELLE!” Beau yelled as he ran inside, and the moment he saw my body, lying weak, barely conscious and covered in blemishes and remnants of blows, he fell to his knees beside me. I recognised his face only barely, a short, raspy breath leaving my mouth as I tried to say his name. Was Olivia ok? Is she safe? Of course she is, otherwise Beau wouldn’t have found me- God, my everything hurts. “Hoyt- Hoyt! I need an ETA on the ambulance.” Panic riddled his voice as he checked me over. “I-It’s bad, J-Jenny, it’s bad, she’s bruised all over- what did those bastards do to her?” He looked down at me, my eyes meeting his pretty green ones as he smoothed back my hair from my face. “Stay with me, Deputy. Don’t go passin’ on me now, don’t you dare.”

I tried to whisper out anything at all, but my lungs and/or ribs hurt too much.

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

final part (I like number 7, let's end it at number 7)

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: angst, typos (not when drunk gods are talking, those are intentional), drunk god bros™, hangover

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @belovedadam @mascaracoffee @serebrum @myworldgoesboomz @lokis-leah @nickkie1129 @getyoutmoon @forevernthensome

A/N: thank you so much for reading this unexpected mini series❤️

Loki swayed from one side to another. His question still hanging in the air. Thor was struggling to get back up on his feet. When it looked like he's making progress, he fell down on his knees again and had to start over.

"Has any of you ever seen them like that?" Steve whispered.

Everyone shook their heads. Your eyes remained glued to Loki. He never drank. Well, if he had to he drank fine wine or some other 'fancy' alcohol from Tony's stash, but he never drank to the point of being drunk. Only slightly tipsy.

You remember the first time you saw him drink. It was a long time ago. Tony made him. He said it will make him 'turn that frown upside down'. You saw him drain the whole bottle that day and it did nothing to him. Only tainted his pale cheeks with slight pink. You've seen him drink more than a bottle since then, but it was never enough to make him stumble through his words, or sway around like Jack Sparrow. How much did he had?

Anxiety gnawed on you again. 'He drank because of you. Because of what you told him. Your words pushed a literal god to drink his sadness away.'

"Weeeell?" Loki asked again. When Thor fell down with a thud on the floor again Loki rolled his eyes and was at least pretending to help him stand up. You swear you heard him whisper something along the lines of 'get up you outgrown lightning mouse, don't embarass me in front of her', but that could've been just your imagination.

"For god's sake, how much did you guys have?" Sam asked and Bucky stole Rex from his lap while he was distracted.

Thor while leaning on the back of the couch was counting his fingers. After a while he gave up. "A lot. We made our anescesterors proud," he bared his teeth in a proud grin.

"You mean ancestors, right?"

Thor's head turned to Nat. "Yes! We had a whoooole barrel. One for me," he hugged his brooding brother around shoulders (more like leaned on him with his entire weight) "and one for Kiki," the childish nickname earned Thor a massive shove to the side. "Do not call me dat!"

Bruce facepalmed. "Guys, what are we gonna do with them?"

Clint pulled out his phone, recording everything. "Enjoy while it lasts."

You smacked his phone away, a sudden need to protect your (hopefully still) friend's dignity roused inside of you. "You can't!" you said louder than you wanted.

Clint just shook his head. "You're no fun Y/N," and put his phone away.

You frowned at them. "I know. I know I'm no fun, and I am annoying sometimes, and weak and dumb compared to all of you. I know all of that! I don't care!"

Bucky stared up at you. "What has gotten into you doll?"

"I'll tell you what. I was a bitch, okay? I was overthinking everything ever since I had that argument with Loki. His words started something inside of my head. I started to think they were true, that when my best friend thought those things what must all of you think. And even when I knew they were lies those thoughts stayed up here," you pointed at your head, "and I hate myself for still keeping them there. And just when I thought I'll finally make up with Loki and everything will be good again I fuck up!" you wiped an escaped tear, took a breath and continued.

"It's my fault he's like this. He was drinking because of what I said. All of this is because of me," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself a little. Everyone stared at you, including the drunk brothers.

What you were letting out of your mouth probably didn't make sense as a whole. They were just your anxious thoughts getting free, they didn't care in which order. All of that stress, everything that has been rotting inside of your chest is out now. You feel a little better.

"Daaaarlin', 's not your fault," Loki interrupted your train of thoughts, reminding you that just because you talked your heart out, it didn't fix your mistake of hurting him.

"Yeah, and whose then?" you said calmly.

Loki stood up straighter while still swaying a little. "The univers! She won't let us be toge'er, thas why I haf to make up with 'er," his british accent got deeper.

You slowly walked towards him. "No Loki, this is my fault. And I'll fix it too," you took him by his arm and slowly lead him away. To his bedroom. However, he protested.

"Wait! We have to give 'er flowerz," he leaned down to Thor and yanked some of the flowers along with his golden hair from Thor's head. "Y'kno, to makup."

You shook your head and walked with him a little faster. "You don't have to. All you have to do is go to sleep now."

When the Avengers finally came to their senses Bruce shouted after you. "Hey what about Thor?"

"He's all yours," you shouted back from the elevators and pressed button leading to Loki's floor.

*

'He's heavier than he looks,' you think as you get closer to his bedroom door.

He's been leaning on you for support the whole silent (mildly uncomfortably silent) way to his bedroom. He groaned and mumbled something undecipherable here and there. You wished to be already in his room, put him in his bed and dissappear for few hours. You felt so awkward helping your friend who can barely stand after he drank because of you.

"Can you lean on the wall please?" you asked him when you both stood infront of his locked door. He unhooked his arm from around your shoulders and practically threw himself onto the nearest wall.

"Lean, not fall!"

He chuckled. "Sorrey, is the gravity," he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes and fished out a key from his bedroom door from your sweatpant pocket. When the thin metal slid into keayhole Loki threw his arms around you and gently squeezed you. "Are ya real?"

"Eeeh, yes? Why are you asking?"

"Because," he squished your cheeks together, "you're nice to me. And you're cute," he giggled.

You chuckled and removed his hands from your cheeks. "Thanks, but this isn't you. You need to sleep."

"Not me?" he asked, confusion all over his face. He ran his hand across his torso and settled on his face. "But this is my body and my face! It has to be me!"

"Yes, it is, but the acting isn't. Now come," you took his hand and gently lead him through his open door.

You pushed him to sit on his bed and wanted to walk out, but he won't let go of your hands. He studied them like a little child, turning them, looking at them from every angle. You blushed. He hasn't been this tender for a long time.

You cleared your throat. "You need to sleep. You're gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow."

His eyes left your hands resting in his and bore into yours. But they weren't as clear as usual, they were clouded and lost. "Why?"

"Eeeh, because you're drunk?"

"Why?"

"Because you drank?"

"Why?"

"Because-" no, you can't tell him. "It doesn't matter. Just sleep now," you tried to push him to his bed, but even in this state he was strong and unmovable.

"I don't wanna sleep. I need to find Univers!"

"Well, you can find your universe after you sober up."

"Noooo," he shook his head dramatically, his hair whiping around him. "I can't find my universe. YOU are MY universe," he held your hands close to his chest.

"But I need to find THE Universe! With the T'n'H'n'E infront of it," he started to ramble about Universe conspiring against him and you, but you didn't listen.

You stopped listening after he said 'you are my universe'. Did he mean it?

" 'Your' universe?" you asked and finally pushed him to lie down on his bed.

"Yea," he yawned, his eyelids became too heavy for him to keep open. "I know you hate me, but I.... I...," and he was gone. Off to the dreamland.

You stayed there for few more minutes in case he woke up and finished what he wanted to say, but no such thing happened. You could play on drumms next to him and he wouldn't move.

You softly brushed his hair from his face and covered him with his soft black blanket. "I don't hate you Loki. I never did. I just hope you'll be just as nice and calm when you sober up as you were right now," you caressed his cheek for the last time and walked to his door.

Before you closed, you looked back at him and softly whispered. "You are my universe too Loki."

*

Loki's head pulsed with pain. That's what woke him up, actually. Blindly, he felt around him with his hands, trying to find out where he was. Warm blanket, soft bed, his Asgardian armour still on. It was dirty from clay and smelled weird. Almost like.... alcohol?

'Oh,' he thought, 'that happened.'

He groaned and opened his eyes, only to instantly cover them with his palm. Light from the nearby window was stabbing his eyeballs causing him even bigger headache. All he wanted to do was get a big- no, giant cup of cold water and down it just as fast as he was doing with the alcohol yesterday.

But whenever he tried to use his magic only green and gold sparkles flew from his fingers and when he tried to stand up he got dizy and the whole room started to spin. He fell down onto his bed again. He felt as if his brother hit him with Mjolnir, his famous hammer.

If he wanted a cup of water, he will have to suffer through those few steps to his bathroom.

He reluctantly and slowly stood up and walking very close to wall he made his way for a drink. Or three, just in case.

After a long and unpleasant journey he fell onto his bed again, but not before he pulled blinds over the horribly bright window and rid himself of any dirty and uncomfortable clothes, leaving him only in his underwear.

With his head underneath his blanket, to block out any more light, he tried to remember as much of his actions from yesterday as he could.

From your room he went to gym to punch his frustration out. That's where Thor found him, interrogated him and then dragged him to Asgard to have a drink. Or a whole pub apparently. The rest is a blur. Something about garden, flowers and him and his brother crashing down to Midgard to look for someone. Who? He doesn't remember. Maybe you, since he remembered something about flowers. Maybe his drunk self thought it would be best to make up with you.

But that didn't make any sense, he had nothing to apologize for anymore. You were the one who told him those word. Where even were you anyways?

Just as he finished that thought he heard his doorknob move and his door creaked open.he slowly peaked out from underneath the blanket and in the dimness saw a familiar silhouette. You.

Carefully you put one foot infront of the other and walked straight towards him. You must think he's still asleep, that's why you're so careful. Oh, how he longed to pretend to be asleep and then jump at you and scare you. But he can't. He can't let his mischievious nature do that yet. Not when things between you two aren't like they used to be.

Instead he kept his eyes open and when you got close enough, he slightly moved. "Well look who showed up," he said.

You flinched a little. "Thank god you're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Horrible, to be honest," he rubbed his temples. "Why did you say 'finally awake'?"

You completely ignored his question. "Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers?"

"How about you give me an answer?"

You sighed. "You were out for two days Loki. I was starting to think you had alcohol poisoning and died in your sleep. I was checking up on you every few hours to make sure you're still with us," you confessed.

"Oh, alright. Thank you. And I don't need anything. I already obtained it," he pointed at his bedside table with three glasses of water.

"Still, your head must be torturing you. I'll bring you some painkillers," you ran outside before he could stop you.

You returned after few minutes with a small box of pills on one hand and a jar of water in the other. "So you don't have to stand up and go to the bathroom after you drink those three cups," you said and put the jar on his bedside table.

"Thank you. You are oddly kind to me," Loki pointed out.

You hummed and awkwardly stood infront of his bed, trying not to look at his naked torso. You fidgeted with the box for a while. "Just take one when you want," you said finally and put it next to the jar.

"Hey, can you tell me what happened yester- I mean two days ago? Was I and Thor a big disaster?" he asked, wanting you to stay with him.

"Well," you chuckled and scratched the back of your head. "It was a bit awkward and confusing. You and Thor appeared on the balcony and you were looking for universe for some reason."

Loki facepalmed. The pain from embarrassment was bigger than the pain his head was causing. "And let me guess, The Earth's Mightiest Heroes recorded everything, didn't they?"

You shook your head. "No, I didn't let them."

"Thank you," he smiled kindly.

You returned the smile. "Hey, can I sit here?" you pointed at the corner of his bed.

"Sure," he moved a little to give you more space. The bed dipped under your weight a little.

"I want to tell you few things," you said, your eyes watched how you fidgeted with your fingers.

"I'm listening."

"First I want to apologize for what I said. I was tetchy and I know it doesn't excuse what I said," you raised your eyes to his. "I just want you to know I didn't mean them. And I'm sorry. I would like to be your friend again. Please."

Loki bit his tongue from teasingly telling you 'no' and took a deep breath. "I would like to be your friend as well. I don't want us to argue anymore. So," he extended his arm towards you, "friends?"

You beamed at him. To him your smile shone brighter than the sun outside. You took his hand and shook it. "Friends."

"I'm glad," he squeezed your hand gently. He didn't want to let go yet. "And what about the rest of what you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, right," you looked to the side. "You said something yesterday."

"Something offensive? If so, I apologize-"

"No! Not at all! It just..." you bit your lower lip and tilted your head, something you subconsciously did when you blushed. "Y-you said that... I am your universe," you said carefully.

Loki froze. Did he really say that? You didn't look like you were lying. Why did he tell you that? Why were you bringing that up? Did you possibly feel the same and want to be sure he wasn't kidding when he said it?

Loki must've took too long to respond, because you were trying to pull your hand from his and leave. This time Loki was fast to stop you. "I really said that?"

You gulped. "Yes, ehm did you mean it? Wait, you don't remember. Sorry," you chuckled awkwardly.

"If I said that while drunk, I meant it."

"Really?"

"Yes. I once heard 'alcohol reveals, who a person truly is', in that case I am a romantic," he winked and you giggled. He liked the fact you still giggle at his stupid jokes.

"For real now. You are my universe. My best friend. My partner in crime. And if you allow then I would like to add another title: my paramour. If you feel the same way, that is."

You smiled softly and intertwined your fingers with his. "You are my universe as well, Loki."

"Great," he lifted your joined hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. "When I sober up and feel better I'm officially asking you out on a date."

"How long does it usually take for you to sober up?"

"A day or two," Loki shrugged and fell back onto his bed. His head started spinning again.

"That's too long," you said and layed next to him. "Can I watch over you while you sleep?"

"Sure thing love," he hugged you to him and kissed the crown of your head.

Bonus

"Darling, it's 2pm."

"Yes, so?"

"Aren't you supposed to take Rex out?"

"Bucky is training him."

"Oh, okay."

"You're so sweet to think of him."

"Hmmm."

*meanwhile*

Steve: hey, aren't you supposed to train him?

Bucky: *lying on the floor, Rex napping on his chest*

Bucky: uuuh, I gave him a break.

Steve: *raises one eyebrow*

Bucky: please don't tell her

Steve: only if I can join in

A/N: I was this close to write the angstiest ending, but I have a good mood today

[annebl4cksworld]

Blood and sugar

Word count: 1,100

Warnings: language / plagiarism from the originals! I do not own anything in regards to marvel or the originals I'm just a women with slight obsessions

A/N: To quote my main character "I'm the best parts of a vampire, werewolf and a witch" 

Avengers come to recruit Briar 

Asserting her dominance, Briar peers into Steve's mind and sees how hurt and depressed he is. 

Tony loses pepper and seeks comfort

(i’m slightly obsessed with the winter soldier rn sooo imma throw a wrench in here and add Bucky to the story cause i can muhahahhaha)

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

Tony, Nat and Steve walked into the bourbon bar off the main street,

Tony takes a quick look around "keep an eye out, she should be fairly easy to spot."

"Would be easier if we knew what she looked like, I can't believe there are no pictures of her. I thought that the interweb thing had photos of everyone?" Steve asked his seemingly innocent question. Tony rolled his eyes 

"I told you she has long dark hair, green eyes and looks like she wants to kill everyone." Stark walked up to the bar "what kind of bourbon you sell here?" He asked 

"the alcoholic kind" the bartender responded walking away. 

"Hmm, ok." Tony tapped the bar. 

Nat was searching the other side of the room when a loud group stumbled through the doors; there were 4 of them looking gangly and hungry.

"You smell that?" The tallest one cocked his head towards rogers "smells like new meat" low growls came from their chests. 

"You selling tickets to something or..?" Stark snapped at them 

"We're not looking for trouble," Steve assured them. The group stood in front of the entryway and bared their fangs, snarling. "Too late." 

"Stark, what the hell did you drag us into?" Nat pulled her pistols out aiming them, "we are looking for Briar. Old friends" Stark commented double tapping his watch and pulling part of his suit over his hand 

They launched at each other, fists, bullets and beams flying from one side that never found their targets, the group moved with blinding speed and already had hands on the team. One knocked Tony to the ground; another yanked Steve's head back and went to rip his throat out with his teeth; suddenly he was sent hurling into the wall. All fighting ceased at the action and a british accent poured out of the doorway "You're making a mess in my favorite bar." 

"Cutting it a little close aren't we?" Tony asked, pushing off his knee to stand. Briar stood in the doorway one arm raised holding the man against the wall. "Gentlemen, there better be an excellent explanation for this." Heels clicking on the floor as she walked into the bar; 

"It's Briar. Go, now!" the rest of the group ran off through the back exit. Briar directed her attention to the one she still held, gritting his teeth he strained to speak "let me go" he hissed 

"That looks like it hurts" she twisted her hand "that's what I was going for" the man let out a yell in pain "what're you doing to me?" Panic taking over his voice. 

"Stop it, let him go" Steve stepped forward, giving her a warning tone. Briar didn't blink, she watched her toy writhe in pain "Anthony, darling." She tilted her head in starks direction "it's been too long" 

Stark shifted his stance "Briar, you're looking ravishing as always. Thought maybe we could chat?" With that Briar turned back to the man against the wall "I'm feeling generous, so here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to let you live, so long as I never, ever, see your face in this town again. Yes?" Dropping her hand to her side the man fell from the wall and within seconds was out the door. 

Briar walked over to Tony and wrapped her arms around his neck, she kissed his cheek. "You brought me a boy scout and a ginger, I would have preferred chocolates and wine. The whole city will be buzzing over wonder boy here, dying to sink their teeth into him." Briar bit the air next to Tony’s ear.

Tony steps to the side holding an arm toward the two avengers "Oh I'm sorry, Briar this is Capsicle and romanoff and this is--"

"Briar Mikaelson; my, you are a tall glass of water" interrupting Tony, Briar eyed Steve up and down causing him to shift uncomfortably. Nat grinned "what are you?" Curiosity flashed in her eyes. "I'm a tribred. My father was an original vampire, my mother was a Crescent pack leader and my grandmother basically invented black magic. I'm all the best parts mixed into one" she gave them a wink. 

"Vampires?" Nat repeated, "Werewolves? Witches. This is the stuff of novels, fairy tales." 

"I mean you saw how they moved, you saw her throw someone into the air like she was Wanda, i'm sorry we have an alien coworker, a God and a raging green monster but you draw the line at vampires and werewolves?" Tony snorted.

“From what I’ve seen you don’t have very good control of them, how many casualties have you had from blood thirsty vampires?” Cap spoke to Briar but turned to face Tony “You want to recruit someone who would sooner tear a person’s throat out than listen to them? Absolutely not, she’s not welcome in this team. Spoiled princess beating fear into everyone"

"That’s fine, you're not welcome in New Orleans, captain. The serum that runs through your veins can be sniffed out by any vampire or werewolf from miles away and what the witches wouldn't do for some suped up blood. That shield you carry doubles as a target because they will come for you and I don't think I like you enough to deal with protecting you." Briar turned to the bar, every candle lighting around her. 

"This is my city. We don't live in the shadows like rats.”-- Briar poured herself some bourbon and turned back to face Steve “The locals know their place. They look the other way. The blood never stops flowing and the party never ends. This is my home, my family, my rules."

Nat glanced at cap who folded his arms over his chest "And if someone breaks those rules?"

A smile formed on her lips "Then they die. Mercy is for the weak." downing her drink she turned back to Tony "You wanna pass through? You wanna stay a while? Great. What's mine is yours, but it is mine. (Turning her head to face Steve) And I'm not princess of the quarter, I'm the Queen! Show me some respect." Black flooded her eyes and veins colored themselves purple and red beneath them.

[stanknotstark]

Astral Pt. 13 (Loki x Reader)

I’m introducing ANOTHER character :D Morgan is very interesting and her powers are like Kang’s I’m very curious as to who would win in a fight tbh i wish i could’ve written an action scene because she can mind control and OH the drama that I could have played with! You guys are lucky cuz i had something worse written >:D

You and Loki are eating breakfast together in silence. When you finish your plate Loki tells you to grab a book from his quarters, while he finishes, so he can help you research Asgard. Then meet him in the common area since no one is there right now. 

Loki likes to teach you and watch your curiosity flare as you read up on Asgard, its customs, how healers work, how royalty works, instead of telling you. It’s the least he can do since you’ll never actually see Asgard in person. He’s a fantastic storyteller but you know he has a weakness, that weakness being that when you truly concentrate on something sometimes you stick your tongue out a bit and narrow your eyes. Other times you look at the book with guileless fascination. Plus, Loki knows there’s more satisfaction from learning on your own. He’s always there to answer your questions and debate with you though.

You walk back into the common area after grabbing the book, Loki looks at you, then a cloud of dark green appears between you both. Before you can react accordingly feminine arms are yanking you into the cloud of magic and you’re in someone’s arms definitely not at the tower anymore. You can only imagine what Loki is thinking. The last thing he probably saw was the book fall when you dropped it. Now he’s probably thinking the worst is going to happen, that you’re going to die, and honestly you don’t know what’s going on. For all you know you might actually be about to die. 

You try to wave off the nausea and dizziness following the teleportation you endured and assess your surroundings but someone is roughly pulling you somewhere. Just as you get your wits back there is a tight rope constricting your hands behind your back and around your ankles. You’re shoved into a rocky wall, twisting, back first causing you to let out a breathless grunt and slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Looking up you see a beautiful woman. She stands tall, her chin out in confidence. Her pale, petite face is framed by pitch black hair, the long tendrils held in braids resting on her chest and trailing to her hips they’re so long. She wears a green and black corset that flows into thigh armor that is engraved. No not engraved, made of actual scales, you shiver at the thought of what could have scales that big, nothing from Earth that’s sure. To end her amazing outfit, her green with black lace boots are thigh highs. You can faintly smell leather and something sweet you’ve never smelled before. You’re pretty sure this woman could be a really good dominatrix if she wanted to.

“That was much easier than expected. If the Avengers are Earth’s best defenders I’m disappointed, to say the least.” The woman tells you looking at her nails in boredom. You pick out her British accent.

You realize you’re not in immediate danger and say, “While I don’t mind getting kidnapped by beautiful women I usually like to know their names first, maybe take me on a date before you bring me back to your place.”

The woman chuckles. “My name is Morgan Le Fay of Britain, the world’s strongest sorceress, Morgana. That is until you came along.”

You frown. “That’s a mouthful.” 

Morgana shakes her head with a small smile. “Cute.”

“Look I’m not that powerful, I think you have the wrong person, most of the magic I use I can’t use for long because it gives me migraines.” You say while shifting around to get more comfortable. 

You finally take in your surroundings. All you can assess is that you’re in a cave, no telling how far from New York City, home. You know Loki could track you down if you could astral project but you don’t trust Morgana enough to take your eyes off of her. Maybe Tony is tracking your cell phone which you feel sitting in your back pocket. 

“Such a shame you’ll never discover your true potential. I’m here to kill you, child, but I had to get a taste of what runs through your blood before I do.” Morgana says kneeling in front of you. 

Morgana brings a hand to your head and when she touches you she gasps and closes her eyes. You simply watch from under her hand as she shivers. When she pulls her hand away her eyes are bright with curiosity but far away in thought. 

“Why would your mother want to kill someone so powerful, I would think having you on her side would be more preferable.” Morgana says under her breath. You only hear her because she’s so close to you. 

“My mother sent you?” You say trying to stall now that you know her intentions. 

Morgana hums. 

“I know my mother doesn’t love me but I never thought she’d send a glorified assassin after me. I’m honored, honestly.” You say your fingers playing with the rope around your wrists seeing if you could escape somehow. “How does my mother know you anyways, she doesn’t have any powers why would she know a sorceress?” 

Morgana frowns at you, “I like your humor in the face of death.” She quips with a hint of annoyance at your nonchalance of the situation, “When a celestial tells me to do something I tend to not question it.” You look at Morgana like she’s crazy then you watch as realization dawns on her face. 

“My child...You truly do not know?” 

You stop fiddling with the rope and look at Morgana with a raised eyebrow. “Know what? And I’m not a child.”

“Your true birth mother, celestial Madonna.” Morgana says ignoring your plea to be respected.

At this you freeze and lose all the breath in your lungs. 

Thor was right, you’re adopted.

“It was prophesied that celestial Madonna would give birth to the most powerful being in the universe. Kang wanted to be father to such child and hunted her down. He impregnated her, held her captive until she birthed you. She fled when she had the chance but couldn’t take you with her.” Morgana explains while standing and pacing the cave’s floor. “Kang, who was being chased by the Avengers, planted you in an alternate universe and time. No one has known where you were until a few years ago when you used magic for the first time.” Morgana finishes, stopping and looking down at you.

She gives you a look of pity as you process everything. It all made sense now. Kang wants you to be his weapon of destruction. Why your parents have always hated you and treated you like shit. 

“My mother wants me dead and sent you to do her dirty work...Meaning she’s alive somewhere?” You ask trying to not panic with the influx of information.

“She’s here on Earth until she knows you’re dead. Said you’re more of a liability than anything. I’m being paid handsomely for your head.” Morgana says. She then brings a hand up and flicks it. Dark green magic flows and through the smokey magic you see a quin jet then see flashes of Loki, Steve, Natasha, Tony, and Thor talking, concerned and frightened looks on their faces but hear nothing. 

“Your friends are near.” Is all Morgana says like it’s an afterthought. She makes the magic disappear and looks at you with determination. “I have a proposition for you, child.”

You’re not really in the position to argue so you nod at her.

“Promise me you’ll hunt down Kang and right before you deliver the last strike on his miserable life you call on me and let me do it. While I love your mother dearly I have a penchant for revenge.”

“Fine.” You say. At this Morgana looks at you, sizing you up, but decides you’re harmless enough and makes the rope around your wrists and ankles disappear. When you stand she magics a gold ring with a square emerald on it and gives it to you. 

“When the time comes throw this on the ground and stomp on it with your foot then stand back, I shall appear where the ring is.”

You nod and slip the ring onto your right ring finger finding that it fits perfectly. 

“Do not use it for anything else, it is a one time use. If you use it for something trivial I will kill you without hesitation, our deal will be void.” Morgana says, she frowns and without asking places a hand on your head again. This time you feel her magic search your mind and gasp when she does something that makes you feel energetic and calm.

When Morgana pulls her hand away she explains, “Your powers were behind a barrier, I simply destroyed it. You should be able to wield magic without headaches now but you’re going to use your full power unless you learn how to tame it. Do not kill yourself or I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

You look at Morgana in disbelief and annoyance because she keeps threatening your life.

 She gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m truly sorry such a fate has fallen on you, child.” And then she’s gone and you’re left in a dark cave. 

You hadn’t even realized Morgana had used magic to light up the space you both inhabited until you’re left standing in pitch black. Without hesitation you light up both fists with fire and start to make your way out of the cave. You plan to contact Loki when you truly know where you are. However, when you reach the entrance you see the quin jet landing in an open field not that far from the cave’s entrance on the side of a mountain. The first person out of the ship is Loki and he is sprinting towards you, Thor not far behind with Steve and Nat pulling the flank. 

When Loki reaches you you open your mouth to tell him you’re ok but he pulls you into his chest hard and squeezes you till you’re breathless. Then he holds you at arms length and looks over your face first, then body.

“Are you hurt, did she use any magic on you?” He asks urgently.

“I’m fine, Loki, we just talked, she’s not a danger to us.” You say with a small smile that you’re sure doesn’t reach your eyes because Loki doesn’t lose the concerned look on his face. He doesn’t push it either though. Thor stays suspiciously silent when he reaches you both. He touches you as if to check that you’re real but drops his hand and claps Loki on the back more for calming him instead of camaraderie.

You look at Steve and Nat with a small wave and embarrassed grimace when Loki, Thor, and you reach them as you all walk towards the quin jet. After you’ve told them multiple times that you’re fine they all relax a bit but not by much. You mostly feel embarrassed you were taken so easily. You didn’t even put up a fight.

You’re sitting in the quin jet quiet other than to answer their questions without going into details because you’re still trying to unravel what you’ve been told. 

“Why did she take you?” Steve asks, standing in front of you, arms crossed, with Nat next to him while Loki sits at your side, holding your hand. You know he has questions because his fingers keep playing with the new ring on your hand and he gives you looks you can’t decipher. Thor is speaking with Tony in the cockpit so you’re free of their questions until later thankfully.

“She wants me to find Kang so she may kill him.” You say.

Thankfully Loki and Thor had told the group of superheroes who Kang was after the incident with the Growing Man. They told them what they knew of the man which honestly wasn’t much. 

At your words you feel Loki stop playing with the ring. He understands its purpose now. He must have used his magic to look over the ring and see if it was a danger to anyone but especially you, sensing it had magic dwelling in it.

“That doesn’t explain why she took you specifically. She could have told all of us. She didn’t have to kidnap you.” Natasha says knowing you enough to know you’re hiding valuable information. 

You frown and look at your feet. “I-”

You go quiet and everyone stays quiet too, you listen to the engine of the quin jet and Thor and Tony bickering in the background. You think about how Loki’s hand fits perfectly in yours and is soft but has rough patches of callouses from his use of daggers. You take a deep breath in through your nose, closing your eyes, and smell leather, sweat, and that smell the quin jet emits like a new car. 

When you open your eyes you look up at Steve and Natasha and ask, “How did you find me?” 

Natasha frowns at your very obvious deflection. Steve answers. “Tony tracked your cell phone but it’s thanks to Loki we found you so fast. He used his magic to track your magic or something.” Steve says uncrossing his arms and shrugging while glancing at Loki.

You look at Loki who raises a brow at you. “Our bond.” Is all he says at your inquisitive look. You nod in understanding. 

“Where are we, exactly?” You ask them.

“The border of New York and Pennsylvania.” Steve says. That explains why they were able to reach you so quick. If Morgana teleported you so close that means your stalling is the only reason you’re alive. She planned to make you a quick death.

When Nat opens her mouth to ask you another question you shake your head at her. “I’m exhausted can I take a nap before I tell you everything?” You ask, realizing you’ve got at least 45 minutes of free time since the jet isn’t going full speed.

Nat looks a little apologetic and Steve nods and says, “We’re happy you’re ok.” and then they both make their way to the opposite side of the quin jet. 

You and Loki settle into the quin jet’s seats as comfortably as you can. He stays suspiciously quiet about everything but brings an arm up and around your shoulders and lets you lay your head on his shoulder where it meets his neck. When you’re settled he keeps holding your hand but his free hand around your shoulder comes up to stroke your hair. It doesn’t take long to fall asleep. 

Pt. 12.1/Pt. 13/?

Tage list: @justfangirlthingies​ @emelieh99​ @high-functioning-lokipath​ @loveableasshole​ 

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Being Fake Soulmates with Dr. Chilton (Part 2)

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader | The Good Place crossover

1,200 words

It had been a few weeks since the start of your afterlife and your introduction to your pompous, preening soulmate, Dr. Frederick Chilton.

At first, you were sure you were soulmates in the way Michael Myers and Laurie Strode were soulmates: destined to torment each other through all of eternity. He was exactly the type of entitled asshole you always wished you had the guts the stand up to, and the thought of playing house with him made your skin crawl.

After catching him in a vulnerable moment, however, you began to have sympathy for the lonely psychiatrist. His prickly exterior and well-guarded emotions drove everyone away, but once you got beneath that, he turned out to be an affectionate, needy snuggler. There was a void of love in his life on Earth that he was starving to fill, and maybe it wasn’t so bad that you were destined by the universe to fill it.

It still drove you crazy when he asked Janet for Beluga caviar and white truffles (which you knew he secretly hated), and it frustrated him that you dressed comfortably (when Janet could create the most glamorous outfits you could imagine), but you had settled into a mutually fond relationship.

This was paradise, after all. He was your soulmate. If you trusted him, coaxed him to open up, then you would understand each other as only two perfect halves of a whole could.

“What a bunch of judgmental ash-holes,” you muttered, elbow linked with his as you returned from a ten-course dinner party at the Al-Jamil residence—the only home even bigger than Dr. Chilton’s.

“Get to know your neighbors, Michael said. What a nightmare,” replied Chilton with biting sarcasm. Complaining about other residents in the neighborhood turned out to be the one hobby you had in common, so you indulged in it ruthlessly. It wasn’t mean; it was a bonding exercise.

“I know this is the ‘good place’ but does everyone here have to be so… obsequious?”

“Arrogant is what they were,” Chilton corrected. “All because of, what was it, a hundred acres of rainforest?”

“A hundred thousand acres. Didn’t you hear, they saved at least two dozen species from extinction. And they had the nerve to correct me on what spoon to use!”

The doctor’s lightly-stubbled face twitched at that. The nature of his scowl shifted. “You could have at least made an effort to learn table etiquette.”

Your arm stiffened, considering pulling out of his. “You could have been on my side.”

“You were using the dessert spoon for—”

“Sorry I embarrass you!” Your arm yanked away from his elbow and crossed your chest. “Just your soulmate here.”

The night sky was lit by a dazzling show of stars glowing in a sea of deep blues and purples that swayed in the cool (never cold) breeze like a Van Gogh painting come to life. You stood outside the magnificent door to the Chilton Estate, face heating as you reconsidered why you agreed to live with a spoiled buffoon.

His cat-like green eyes evaluated you just as critically. “Why is my soulmate so…?”

Insulting comments perched on his tongue about your clothing, your manners, your overall lack of high-society finickiness, but faltered.

You did embarrass him, it was true, but not as much as he was embarrassed by himself. He was in a foul mood because the neighbors were better than him in every way. Dr. Chilton prided himself on his grooming, yet Tahini Al-Jamil made him look like a pauper. He longed to be admired and respected among his peers, but with peers like these—the best of the best of humanity—he was nothing. Without achievement of note. Dinner had been a sharp reminder of that.

If his soulmate were glamorous, they could elevate his status instead of dragging him down. He had hoped, when he was introduced to you, for a prize he could show off. It was an ego-crushing disappointment when he discovered his soulmate was so… common. But you gave him something better than status—something he never had before. Whenever his facade slipped and he couldn’t keep himself from falling apart, you didn’t attack him for being weak. You sat with him, and held his hand, and reassured him. He didn’t have to be perfect when he was with you, didn’t have to perform the role of the dignified doctor who squashed down his emotions—the role assigned and enforced since childhood by parents who did not tolerate failure.

Pursuing esteem and glory only brought about his early death. Perhaps you were the universe’s way of showing him a better path: the person who saw him and loved him beneath the mask.

His tongue flicked over the roof of his mouth as he let go of the next cruel syllable without uttering it.

The sculpted wood doors of the mansion unlocked, recognizing their owner’s arrival. Using the sound as an interruption from the brewing spat, Chilton put a soft hand on your lower back and guided you inside to privacy. You scowled as he turned, shoes clicking on the marble floors, to press a kiss to your forehead.

“...so stunning?” he finished his thought.

You grumbled your opinion as to the likelihood that that was what he had meant to say, but he gently grasped your chin and turned your pout toward him.

“I should not have let them talk down to you.” Because you make me complete, he meant to say. Because you deserve better. “As if they have any right to speak down to anyone” he scoffed instead. “A standard single-pocket napkin fold? Tasteless. They could not be bothered with a proper fleur-de-lis? At least a double-diamond.”

His voice had taken on that particularly snobby affect it slipped into when he wanted to drive home his superiority—that almost-British accent meant to sound classy. It wasn’t quite an apology, but he was using his snobbery in your defense rather than against you now, and you felt the warmth of his intent.

You rested your head against his shirt collar, where his shoulder joined the pulsing heat of his neck, hands finding his hips reflexively. His arms quickly followed your lead, surrounding you.

“I could have stood up for myself, too,” you murmured. “I already felt like garbage for thinking I made a difference by recycling when Tahani was out saving half the Amazon basin with her vast fortune.”

He held you silently. Though he was a merciless gossip and often said too much, Chilton was careful with his words. When he was not sure what to say, he preferred to say nothing, so he was often tight-lipped when you were upset. He wished it were different—that he could give words of encouragement to magically make you feel better—but empathy did not come naturally to him. Should he open his mouth, he was inclined toward giving helpful advice or psychoanalysis, neither of which were comforting. It was one of many reasons he spent his life alone.

So he simply held you, stroking your back as your humid breath warmed his neck. He understood how you felt, at least. Small. Insignificant. Humiliated.

It was as if that dinner party was perfectly designed to strike a nerve in both of you.

​

[peter-pan-on-neverland]

Secretly soft: Part 2

Request: Felix being his stubborn self around everyone, including the reader but goes all soft when they’re alone.

Pairing: Felix x reader 

Warnings: none

,< Part 1

He couldn’t believe this was happening again, did he not learn from the last time? Pan’s voice echoed around in his mind over and over again as if the words were bouncing around his skull, ricocheting until Felix’s head hurt.

Love make’s you weak. Love make’s you weak. Love make’s you weak.

Those fearsome green eyes stared at him even though the blonde boys eye lids were close, he could still feel his friends cold gaze on him even as lay in the comfort of his bed. For days the giant had been cold and distant, from everyone not just Y/n, the lost boy was away with the fairies half of the time trying not to think about the situation he was once again placed in. He struggled to find any motivation to do anything, Felix who was once an early raiser stumbled out of his tent around mid day only to be met with a disappointing glear from the leader.

“Felix,” The boys heart dropped as he heard his name being called from across the camp, words delivered in a familiar British accent, “Get over here, we need to talk.”

Whispers spread through the camp like a wild fire as curiosity overflowed from the rowdy group of lost boys, each one desprate to know what was happening. Felix could only try and ignore then as he slowly trekked over, back hunched and aching.

“What’s going on?” Pan asked in a stern voice making Felix flinch as soon as the words reached his ears.

With a deep sigh the boy finally mustered up enough courage to speak, “Nothing Pan, I’m fine.” Felix may not be the brightest tool in the shed but that didn’t mean he was stupid, he knew if he started to slip up Pan would punish him by punishing Y/n.

The leaders jaw locked in place, trying his hardest not to let his frustration get the better of him. He knew exactly what the problem was, and how to fix it.

How hard could it be? The king of Neverland thought to himself with a dark grin plastered on his face.

“I’ve given you your chance Felix and now,” He spoke, getting so close to the blonde giant he could feel Pan’s breath slowly travel along the nape of his neck “now you need to be punished.”

The second in command eyes spread no the size of sources and panic flowed through his veins, “No.” He whispered, barely audible but the green eyes monster heard his faint cries.

“What example would I be setting for the boys if I didn’t Felix?” The king argued, “now listen very carefully, I want you to grab that little distraction by the arm and throw her into the cage’s.”

Felix knew that Pan could be a narcasistic prick at times, but he never expected the boy to go this far, never in a million years.

The blonde giant had no idea how to process the emotions he was feeling, they just kept getting stronger and stronger, bubbling over the surface until he overflowed with emotion. At this moment the second in command had no shame, he didn’t care who saw him as tears streamed down his sharp cheeks, the lost boy had never been this vunrible in front of any one before yet somehow Pan made him feel safe.

Felix almost laughed at the irony, how can the person who’s making him feel misrble be the only person he feels safe enough to cry around, to show his true colours around.

“Pan-” The lost boy tried to speak up but his words only came out as a shaky rasp.

“You know what you need to do.” Where the leaders parting words before he made his way back to camp.

The brown haired boy let out a sigh of relief as he walked away, he hated seeing Felix like this, but he knew if that girl broke his heart then he would be much more broken. Maybe his punishment was a little harder than he had originally planned for it to be, but what was he to do? How else would he be able to help Felix, he needed to get rid of the problem and he needed to do it himself.

…

Felix gut twisted inside of him, every cell in his body was screaming out no. He couldn’t do this to her, not when he had finally realized how he felt, but the second in command knew that if he didn’t do it Pan would and who knows how rough he would be?

There she was, sat silent and alone on a log. Felix remembered the mornings when he would join her, laughing as they told each other the funniest stories while he playfully put his arm around her. Oh how he wished he knew sooner, he would’ve cherished those moments even more if he only knew where his heart ley.

There was that sinking feeling again, like his heart had suddenly turned to stone in an instant, weighing him down as if his own body was stopping him from taking another step. He wanted to just grab her and run off into the sunset but the giant knew there was no way off this island, not without Pan’s permission.

He needed to be smart about this and try to cause as little pain as possible. Ignoring the fact that his feet felt like they were made of led he slowly made his way over to her, one step at a time, catching the lost girls eye.

A smile beamed on her face as she saw he was coming over, eyes beaming and face glowing with happiness, but she was not met with the same expression.

“Felix-!” She happily exclaimed.

“You need to come with me,” He muttered, voice deep and moody.

Y/n’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “Where are we going?”

He shut his eyes, wanting this process to be quick and easy, “Please don’t make me ask again,” he pleaded with her, “Just follow me.”

“Not until you tell me where we’re going.” She tested.

Felix knew he had no other choice but to take her by force, as much as he didn’t want too he knew it would be the only way of ensuring her safety.

Swiftly wrapping his long fingers around her forearm he yanked her up, dragging her away too little to no effort, she was as light as a feather. Oh how Felix wish he could just scoop her up in his arms right now, instead of forcing her into one of those cold, damp cages.

“Felix, what are you doing!” She exclaimed, trying to claw at his knuckles, desperately trying to get the blonde giant off her, “You’re hurting me!”

As soon as those words fell from her lips the second in command instantly let go as thought it were second nature to him. The boy had no problem when it came to a little bit of pain, but she made him weak, love made him weak.

Y/n’s demands never stopped the whole way through the jungle, he fought everything he had in him to not answer back. Why hadn’t he noticed how special she was to him sooner? Why was Pan making him do this? What was the point?

So many questions swirled around in his mind he didn’t even notice the tears streaming down the lost girls face as she, now silently, followed him.

His hand twitched in response, ready to reach out and brush every drop away with the pad of his thumb, but he couldn’t. He kept his eyes glued to the floor and his head down, he needed to remember that if he wanted her to be safe, he was going to have to put her in the cage.

The lost girl felt ace in her chest as the wooden door swung closed in front of her, there eyes met for what seemed like it would be the last time. She couldn’t stop the stream of tears from pouring down her cheeks, she didn’t understand what was going on. Had she angered him that much he would want to stick her in the cages?

Hesitantly, he began to walk away, slowly as if he wanted the moment to last a little longer. Felix’s knows this isn’t the romantic event he had hopped for, but still, he was just happy to be with her and never wanted to leave her side.

“Felix, wait.” She croaked out, voice raw from all the screaming and crying she had done prier.

The second in command came to a halt as if he order were from Pan himself, no words left his lips, but she knew she had grasped his attention.

Shuffling forward as best she could, Y/n wrapped her around around the bars of her wooden prison, “Why am I in here.”

He longed to tell her the truth, longed to tell her how she had done nothing wrong and that he loved her, If it were up to the boy that cage door would be broke off it’s hinges and she would be safe in his arms. Safe from Pan, safe from the boys, safe from everything that hurt her. But he couldn’t, he could only walk away, leaving her heartbroken and disappointed.

Day quickly turned into night, the stars shining bright against their navy back drop as Y/n tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Was this all just a dream, she thought to herself. One minute her and Felix were fine, happy, laughing and giggling with each other and now, she was locked in this cage.

Goosebumps bloomed up and down her arms as she looked around, nothing but darkness, except for something lurking in the shadows. Her heartbeat quickened, what was that? Why wasn’t it moving? Was it just her eyes play tricks on her?

As if on queue the bushes begin to shake, she scattered to the far side of her cage, trying to get away from it as quickly as possible, she was not about to become bear food.

She relaxed the second she saw it was only Pan, those sinister green eyes gave her a sense of comfort from time to time.

“Oh Pan, it’s just you.” She sniffled, looking up at the boy.

The king of Neverland bent down to her level, pureeing at the little lost girl through the gaps in the cage door, “You’re probably wondering why I’ve ordered Felix to put you in this prison, It’s because you’re making him weak and weak people have no place on my island.” The green eyes monster spat.

The lost girl had never felt so much anger in her life, her blood began to boil the moment those words tumbled from his lip and oh how he loved to watch her squirm. He mocked her, replying with nothing but a smirk.

“It’s not hard to tell that my second in command has fallen for you, and that my dear, is a very dangerous game to play. Love is weakness, love is a sweet spot and my boys don’t have sweet spots.” He declarerd  proudly as he promoted his group of highly weaponized teenagers, “Now if anyone else on this island were to be in love with you, I would kill them on the stop. Felix however, happens to be very special to me, very special indeed. Which is why I must keep you locked away.”

Y/n was at a loss for words, she just couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wanted so badly to argue back, prove to him that love wasn’t weakness, it was strength but the little lost girl knew she would be wasting her breath. Pan wouldn’t listen to anyone else, no one but Felix.

Pan wasn’t here for hostilities, he wanted to make his point and leave, but she pulled the green eyed monster right back, “If I’m such a pain to you then why don’t you just send me home?”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be any fun now would it?” The leader chuckled darkly to himself, “I’m saving you for a rainy day.”

Before the girls very eyes he had disappeared into a cloud of green smoke, rendering her speechless,. What would she do? What could she do in this situation? Make a run for it, try and escape.

She shot down her own ideas once she remembered that no one left the island without Pan’s permission and he just made it very clear, he did not want her to leave.

…

Heavy footsteps are what rose the lost girl from her slumber as she rubber her tired eyes, the sun beamed down, almost blinding her as she looked up.

Jaw almost dropping once she saw the sharp features of a familiar face staring back at her holding a tray of food. She had thought long and hard last night about what she would say to Felix if she ever saw him again, but she didn’t accept to see the second in command so soon.

He smiled to himself, once again she was away with the fairies, paying not attention to what was going on around her.

No, the words echoed around the lost boys head so loud, you’re here to give her food and leave nothing more.

Heartbroken, the boy placed to plate of food just in front of her cage, he fought the urge to say something to her, say anything to her, but no words came out. Where would he even start?

“I know why I’m here.” She finally spoke up, the words made Felix stop in his track, slowly turning back around to face her in shock and disbelief.

“What?” He whispered to himself, still trying to process the words that had just fell from her lips.

“I know why I’m in this cage, it’s because Pan thinks I’m making you weak. But love isn’t weakness Felix, it’s strength and power.”

“You, you know I love you?” Felix said almost as if he didn’t want it to be true.

“Yes,” She beamed a smile spreading wide across her cheeks, “And I love you too.”

The second in command couldn’t hold himself back any longer after hearing those words, running to the cage, he flung the cage door open. Their hand intertwined as he desperately pulled her out of the cage and wrapped her up in his arm.

“I’m so sorry Pan put you in here, lets run away together, lets go somewhere, anywhere.” The boy rambled on and on making plans for the two of them to escape.

“You know we can’t do that Felix, not without Pan’s permission.” She shot him down.

The look of disappointment on the boys face was evident, she wanted more than anything to run away with him but they both knew it wouldn’t be possible for them to do.

“What should we do?” Felix asked, racking his brain for anything, just anything that would get him and Y/n off this island.

“Put me back in the cage.” The little lost girl insisted, almost as if she were stamping her foot down.

“What are you talking about-”

“Put me back in the cage, it’ll by us more time if Pan doesn’t suspect anything is wrong.” She explained, the second in command didn’t want to admit it, but he knew she was right.

“Fine.” He harshly spoke, “But I don’t like it.”

They both knew they didn’t have much time left before Pan would know something was up, as if there was a silent agreement between the two the girl nodded in his direction, voluntarily getting back into her wooden cage.

“I love you,” The blonde giant whispered, peering at the through the bars with a smile on his face.

“I love you too.” She said, watching as he trekked further and further into Neverland’s deep jungle, all the way back to camp.

The pair were flying as high as a kite, for once everything seemed to be on track, going there way, but all that faded as soon as she heard a familiar British accent.

“Well, well, well, that was quite the show.”

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

Part 2 is up! I hope you guys like it just as much as you liked the last part! Xxx

[styles-is-the-name]

Just Before You Go - Part Three

this is my first shot at a harry-y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. Harry is a single father of two that hasn’t even looked at another woman in years. For the first time in five years, he finally feels like he’s returning to himself all because he met someone unexpectedly at a grocery store. Even though his kids are determined to help him find love again, will it be possible? (There eventually be smut, but will mostly be fluff.)

TW: suicide, self harm, and others will occur

Word Count: 2,399

“Harry, you do absolutely amazing work!” Your eyes widen slightly as you continue flipping through his books looking at different tattoos he’s done over the years. Each one is beautiful and unique.

“Thank you, love. I’m not like a traditional tattoo artist if you couldn’t tell. I won’t do any tattoo that another artist has done.”

“So if I were to ask for a butterfly, you wouldn’t do it the same way another person did?”

“I would ask you why you want the butterfly and depending on your response, I will find a butterfly that suits your reasoning perfectly.”

“Do you know about the butterfly project?”

“I sure do. Is...is that why you want one?” You look down breathing out shakily and nod nervously. He sits down next to you gently placing his hand over yours. “I’m here for you, Y/N. I know that we just met and you don’t trust me yet, but I am here for you.”

You smile up at him through tears and nod not able to speak fearful that you might start crying. He hands you a tissue and you dab the corners of your eyes trying not to ruin your makeup. The two of you look over at Darcy who is petting her cat lovingly.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at you widely. “She looks exactly like her mother did.”

“She mentioned...you know...what her mother did.” You say softly not sure how to approach the topic. He sighs shakily leaning back on the couch.

“She really struggled with postpartum depression after she had my son. I didn’t realize it was as bad as it actually was. I spent more time with the kids than I did with her. She...she cheated. And when I found out...she killed herself in front of me.”

“Harry...oh my god. I’m so sorry.” He nods awkwardly trying to blink back all the emotion he feels right now. You decide to change the topic to help him out. “So should I bring anything to dinner tomorrow? I can bring dessert.”

“You cook?”

“I do, but I mostly bake.”

“The kids love baking.”

“So maybe...I can bring something over and we can cook and bake together.”

“Like a family.” He smiles lightly at you making your heart flutter.

___________________________

The whole day was so miserable and long for you. You were impatient and you hated it, but you managed to get some of your job applications sent out. Hopefully you’ll be hearing back from schools within the next few days. One of the only good things about who your father is is that he sends you money every week. That’s how you’ve been surviving.

Around three, you decide to call your best friend, Louis. He’s always good to talk to in a crisis or a fashion emergency and in your case, it’s the latter.

“Y/N!”

“Louis!”

“What’s up, babe?”

“Okay so. There’s a lot I have to catch you up on.”

“Is there a guy?”

“How did you know?”

“I haven’t seen you this happy since-“

“Don’t even say his name. I swear to god I will fly to New York and rip out your vocal chords.”

“Okay! Okay! Calm down. But anyway. Spill the tea!”

“Well I was at the grocery store yesterday and I met this man.”

“Name? Age? Nationality? Religion? Race? Relationship status? Criminal record?”

“Louis! Oh my god. His name is Harry Styles.”

“Oh my god that’s amazing. Imagine him so deep inside of you that you start scream-“

“OKAY! Okay! Enough!”

“Continue.”

“He’s a tattoo artist.”

“Seriously? Dude that’s so cool! Maybe I should make a trip out there.”

“Oh my god he’s amazing, Lou. He showed me some of his past tattoos and they’re all amazing.”

“You’ll have to send me pics.”

“I will the next time I’m at his shop.”

“You went to his shop?”

“Just shut up and let me talk!”

“Okay bossy.” You roll your eyes giggling.

“Well he has a British accent.”

“That’s your weakness!”

“I know! He’s a single father.”

“How many kids and how old?”

“Two. Darcy is nine and she's the sweetest little girl I’ve ever met. I haven’t met Carter yet, but he’s six and adorable.”

“And their mom? You don’t need a crazy ex around.”

“She’s not in the picture.”

“Seriously? She had two kids then just left?”

“Lou, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Well, tell me!”

“She killed herself.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know. But Darcy is really trying to get us together and guess what.”

“What?”

“Every Tuesday they have taco Tuesday. And they invited me tonight.”

“Yasss! My girl is gonna get some dick tonight!”

“Louis! Oh my god. Why did I even bother calling you.”

“Because you probably need help picking out an outfit.”

“Yeah I do. I don’t wanna be too dressy, but I don’t wanna be too casual either.”

“You know that yellow, flowy top we bought before you left?”

“The one that has ruffled sleeves and goes down to my thighs?”

“Yeah that. Wear that with leggings and sandals.”

“And my hair?”

“Braid it to the side and natural makeup.”

“Thanks, Lou. I owe you. I gotta go though so I can be there on time. We’re cooking together.”

“Awwww! You’re a little family already!”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Love youuuuu!”

“Yeah yeah.” You hang up giggling then rush to get ready.

_______________________

“But daddy! It’s not fair! Why did Darcy get to meet her and not me?!”

“Bubba, I already explained this to you. Darcy was at the store with me, but you get to meet her tonight. She’s coming over for dinner.”

“But I wanted to find you a girlfriend!” Harry blushes bright red. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to have you called his girlfriend (if it weren’t too soon, he probably would ask you to be his girlfriend himself), but having your kids talk about it is just a little weird.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Carter.”

“YET!” Darcy looks at Carter smirking.

“Jinx! Knock on wood. You owe me a soda!”

“Daddy.” Carter whines looking up to Harry.

“I need you both to be on your absolute best behavior tonight okay?”

“Okay daddy.”

“Yes daddy.” Carter leans closer to Darcy. “Is she pretty?” Darcy giggles and nods. Harry rolls his eyes sighing.

“She’s beautiful. Beyond beautiful. But we just met, guys. Nothing serious is going to come from a din-“

The two are running towards the door before Harry can even finish. Darcy opens the door right as you were reaching to ring the doorbell.

“Y/N!” She hugs you tightly catching you off guard. You hug back smiling lightly and wave to Carter.”

“Hi guys!” Harry walks over wanting to just melt into the floor seeing how embarrassing his kids are being.

“Guys, let her in! Let her in.” Darcy let’s go of you and let’s you walk inside.

“Woah.” You look around at the beautiful interior. “It's beautiful in here!”

“Daddy said you’re beautiful too!”

“Carter!” Darcy nudges him with her elbow.

“What?! He did!” Harry squeezes his fists biting his lip nervously.

“Well, your daddy is very handsome.”

Harry can’t help, but smile. He feels like he’s in high school again. He just met you yesterday and his heart is already racing when you compliment him. The only difference is that he is twenty-six almost twenty-seven and he knows it’s not just some school girl crush. It’s more than that. He hasn’t felt like this in nearly five years and to say that it’s terrifying doesn’t even come close to how he feels.

“Darcy, you were right! She is really pretty.”

“I know!” The two giggle running into the living room. Harry looks up to you blushing deeply feeling bad.

“I’m so sorry. I told them to behave. Looks like they decided not to listen.” You giggle.

“It’s okay, Harry. I wasn’t sure what to bring for dessert so I just brought stuff to make homemade chocolate chip cookies.”

“From scratch?”

“The best way to make them!” He leads you into his kitchen talking over his shoulder to you.

“My mum used to bake cookies from scratch and she would have them ready for when I got home from school. I tried to figure out how to make them the way she does, but I never could figure it out.”

“The secret ingredient is sour cream. Sounds disgusting, but it just makes the cookie more moist. Also, milk instead of water.”

“I knew the milk, but not sour cream. God I worked in a bakery as a teenager. I should know these things!”

“Awww little Harry in an apron!” You hold your heart jutting out your bottom lip. You see his gaze move down to your lips and your knees just about give out on you.

“Just be thankful my mum isn’t here. She’d be showing you all sorts of baby pictures.”

“We should have invited her then! I’d love to see those chubby baby cheeks. I love babies.”

“What’s your favorite age to teach?”

“Probably both elementary and high school.”

“Not middle school?”

“Oh hell no. Those brats are so rude it’s not even funny. And they’re too hormonal.”

“I would’ve thought that high schoolers are more hormonal.” You sit down on the counter popping a cherry into your mouth while watching him roll his sleeves up. Your mouth waters but you can’t tell if it’s from the cherry or his tattoos.

“That’s what you’d think, but they have the majority of their hormones in check. I mean think about it. Most girls start their periods in six grade. That’s around the time that guys started yanking off to socks.” His laugh sounds like music to your ears. You’d do anything to hear that again.

“True. I love how you put it like that.”

“I mean it’s true! I’ve heard most guys prefer socks over the male dildo vagina things.”

“What guys have you been talking to?!”

“My brothers and my best friend.” You shrug amused by the conversation.

“Well I just prefer my hand.”

“But doesn’t that make a mess?”

“If you aim right it shouldn’t.”

“Oh my god. I’d struggle if I were a guy for a day.”

“How so?”

“My aim sucks. I wouldn’t be able to even pee.” He throws his head back laughing.

“Well if I were a woman for a day, I wouldn’t be able to leave my bedroom.”

“Why? Too busy fingering yourself?” You giggle rolling your eyes.

“Eh. I’m more of a tits guy.” Just the way he said that makes you feel light headed. You know you need to change the subject before you have to go to the bathroom.

“Oh whatever. Anyway. Tell me about yourself, Harry.”

“What do you wanna know, love?”

“Anything and everything.” Harry hands you a pan and the package of meat. You pop another cherry into your mouth before hopping off of the counter and turning the burner on.

“Well, I was raised in Holmes Chapel.”

“Isn’t that just a few hours outside of London?”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty small town, but it’s lovely.”

“Why’d you move here?”

“For uni. Three of my lads and I moved here. We got an apartment and went to uni together.”

“What do they do for a living?”

“Well Niall owns his own club. Zayn is a model. And Liam is about to graduate med school.”

“Oh wow. That’s a big variety.”

“I know, but I know who to go to for free drinks and surgery if needed.” You laugh while pouring the meat into the pan. This isn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. It’s actually pretty fun.

“Where did you go to college?”

“We went to NYU but Liam is at Chapel Hill for med school.”

“I went to NYU!”

“No way! Class of 2012.”

“Class of 2014!”

“We probably saw each other around campus then. You were a sophomore when I was a senior.”

“I actually went to your graduation. My best friend Louis was graduating.”

“Louis? As in Tomlinson?”

“Oh my god. You know him?!”

“Yeah. We were pretty good friends. We lost contact a couple years after graduation sadly.”

“Maybe you should reconnect.”

“I would love to, but I don’t even know how to get in contact with him.”

“Here. I’ll FaceTime him.” You walk over to him touching the small of his back while FaceTiming him.

“Wha-“

“Y/N? Oh my god! Harry! I was wondering if you were him!”

“Lou! Hey man!”

“How’s life?!”

“It’s great! You?”

“Wonderful. I’m actually thinking about proposing to El.”

“Oh my god. That’s awesome!” You give him the phone giggling. It warms your heart hearing the two of them get along. They’re the two most important guys in your life right now. And you have a feeling that Carter will probably be the third.

You walk into the living room and see the kids watching tv. You lay down dramatically with your head in Darcy’s lap and your feet in Carter's.

“Hey! Your feet are smelly!”

“Hey!” You pout sitting up. He giggles and jumps into your arms making you groan.

“Just because your feet are smelly doesn’t mean I don’t want cuddles.” You laugh holding him close.

“Alright. What are you guys watching?” Darcy pauses the tv looking at you.

“There’s nothing really to watch.”

“Do you have Disney plus?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what to watch.”

“Have you heard of Wizards of Waverly Place?” They both shake their head no making you grin. “When my brothers and I were growing up, we would watch it all the time. It’s about two mortals that have three kids that are witches.”

“What are mortals?” Carter looks up to you confused.

“Mortals are people like us. We don’t have any powers.”

“I’m not a mortal! Daddy says I’m Superman!” You laugh pinching his cheek.

“You sure are Superman!”

“Can we watch it, Y/N?”

“Of course. Selena Gomez is one of the lead characters.” Darcy gasps pressing play immediately. She moves closer to you cuddling into your side.

Your heart has never felt this full before. Sure you’ve had cuddles from some of your kids, but you’ve never done this before. Carter rests his head on your chest sucking his thumb. You close your eyes just soaking in the moment.

Nothing could make this any better.

[amazingmsme]

Lab Rat

AN: My trash brain came up with this idea one day while listening to Pay Attention and that one line about the lie detector hearing aids. Then I thought about that part at the beginning and knew I had to write it! Took me way too long to finish, but here ya go! Hope you enjoy!

Curt enjoyed being down in the lab. For starters, all the gadgets and equipment drew his attention everywhere he looked, so he was always entertained. He'd move from one item to the next before he even learned what the previous object was or what it did. He also really enjoyed Barb's company. She was bubbly and energetic, and could never stay mad at him for too long no matter what he did. It was a much welcomed balance to Cynthia, who had just given him poisoned coffee a half hour ago after chewing him out.

He burst into the lab, eyes immediately settling on the short blonde. "How's my favorite neeerd?" he yelled, smirking when she jumped at the loud volume.

"Oh hi Curt!" she waved excitedly and rushed over. She fiddled with her glasses and looked down at her shoes. "I'm fine, how are you?"

He looked around the large lab and said, "Bored, which is why I'm here. This place is practically a toy store for me." Her eyes widened and a nervous look swept across her face. 

"It's really not, you can't just barge in here and start messing with whatever you want- PUT THAT DOWN!" She rushed over and yanked the monocle from his hand. He leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at it.

"Why? What's it do?"

She let out a huff of air and set it back on it's tray. "It's a very delicate piece of spy-wear that can allow you to run an instant background check on nearby people, and it can help you locate your target in a large crowd so you don't lose track of them," she explained. Curt let out a low whistle.

"Wow, maybe I'll get to use it soon!" Barb shook her head, "I'm sorry, but knowing you,  you'd probably break it."

"Hey!" he protested. She continued, "Plus it just wouldn't look right on you. Monocles are all posh and fancy and you're... not. It would suit Owen much better."

He chuckled and crossed his arms, "Yeah, no one's more posh than that bastard. Heh, he'll probably look like a stuffy old guy wearing it." Barb couldn't help but to giggle in agreement. Curt fed off her encouragement and mocked his partner. He raised his voice a few octaves and gave it a very bad British accent, waving his hands in the air as he spoke. "Oh Curt look at me, I'm so cool and collected all the time! You see it's because I'm British, so that means I'm faaar superior than youu." He even went as far as to shift his jaw to make it look crooked.

Barb's mouth hung open in shock, light laughter spilling out despite her best efforts. She covered her mouth as a snort slipped out and she smacked his arm. "Curt that's not nice!"

That just made him beam. "I know, which is why it's so funny." She just crossed her arms and shook her head fondly.

"Curt Mega you're ridiculous. But, I do have something you could test for me!" she said excitedly. He rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm for what awaited him.

"Great! What is it? Something cool, like a flame throwing pen or a bow tie that shoots acid?" he asked, bouncing on his heels. Barb shook her head, "No but remind me to make that pen, it sounds useful. I need you to test this hearing aid," she said and carefully placed them on his ears. She was on her tip toes trying to reach them, so Curt bent down for her to put them on easier.

"Thank you!" she chirped. She took out a small remote and started fiddling with it.

"So, what's this supposed to do exactly?" She smirked, "You'll see. Just tell me how bad on a scale of 1 to 10."

His brows furrowed, "How bad what-" she pushed the button and cut him off. He yelped and scrunched his shoulders, rubbing his ear. She smacked him to make him stop.

"Did it really hurt that much?" she questioned.

"It was supposed to hurt?" he asked. She let out a huff of a laugh, "Well yeah, it's supposed to electrocute you. Did it not?"

"Uh no, not really." She placed her hands on her hips, slightly annoyed that her invention wasn't working as planned.

"Well it did something!" she argued.

"Yeah, it did," he trailed off. She waited expectantly, her hands placed on her hips as she stared up at him.

"Well? Mind telling me?" He didn't meet her eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. It was embarrassing, and he really didn't want to tell her.

"I'd rather... not." She scoffed at him, throwing her hands up in annoyance.

"Well geez, that's helpful! C'mon Curt, you can tell me," she tried coaxing. When he still didn't, she sighed. "Look, I know I was a little harsh, but that's only because it didn't work the way I want it to, it has nothing to do with you," she clarified, thinking that his reluctance to speak was because of her snappish tone.

"It's not that." She became puzzled now and tilted her head in confusion.

"Then what is it?"

He rolled his eyes, not liking having to explain. "It didn't hurt it just felt, I don't know, weird." He did know. He knew exactly what it did, and hated how much it affected him. He's one of the world's greatest spies, there is absolutely no reason for him to be this ticklish! He's supposed to be the suave tough guy, an intimidating manly man. You can't keep up an image like that if you can be reduced to an incoherent mess by a few prodding fingers, can you? No, you can't, which is exactly why he didn't want to tell her. But this is Barb we're talking about, he can trust her with that sort of information. There isn't anything he could do that could tarnish her view of him as a strong spy.

"Weird huh? Could you describe it better?"

"Uhh-"

"'Cause I know you have a better vocabulary than that," she smirked. Curt finally conceded.

He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "It just tickled is all, okay? Happy now?" Her smile only grew.

"Why didn't you just say so?" she chirped. "Now if your don't mind, I need to run some calibrations to see how far off it is." Curt didn't like the mischievous gleam in her eyes. "This might tickle," she teased as her finger pressed down on the button.

Curt was about to protest, reaching out to stop her but squealed at the light jolting sensations. His neck scrunched up to try and shield himself, only for it not to work. He reached up to take them off, a stream of high pitched giggles flooding the room. She acted quickly and dug into his stomach, sending his arms crashing down. He tugged at her hands, but she simply twisted out of his grasp and targeted a different spot. Curt was a laughing jittery mess completely at her will.

"Ah! Mahahake ihihit stop!" he pleaded. His legs were growing weak and he leaned against the wall for support. This just allowed her better access as she crawled her fingers up his ribs.

"I'm sorry Curt, but I can't do that! It's just too fun!" she chirped, making him blush. This sucked so much, people were starting to look, yet nobody offered to help. Probably because he had ruined a good few of their projects by accident... Looks like he'd be on his own. He couldn't help but to snort when she squeezed his hips, trying to to push her away. Though he wasn't trying as hard as he knew he could, he didn't want to hurt her! So instead he suffered at her mercy, of which she granted none. She giggled at the noises coming out of his mouth.

"Oh my God this is great! Who would've thought you were so sensitive? Better not let the bad guys know about this," she winked and skittered her nails across his neck. His laughter became more frantic as he did his best to dislodge her evil fingers. The buzzing electricity at his ears was driving him absolutely mad as his laughter turned silent. He mustered up the strength to reach up and yank them off, his laughter beginning to die down when Barb backed off.

She just stood there smugly, one hand on her hip, the other held out with the palm up expectantly. He failed to suppress a hiccup before he spoke, "You're fucking ruthless, you know that?" He dropped the small torture devices in her hand and patted her shoulder to help stable himself.

She was positively beaming, "Everyone in this business is at least a little bit ruthless, you should know that by now."

"Heh, yeah, guess we're all a bunch of twisted bastards," he joked.

"That we are," a new voice sounded from behind and Curt stiffened. He whipped around to see Cynthia walking towards them. Her heels echoed in the lab with a satisfying click clack. An uncharacteristic smile warmed her usually harsh features as she approached. He cleared his throat to speak.

"Cynthia! You, uh, didn't see that, did you?"

"Oh Mega, don't ask questions you don't want the answer to." That told him all he needed to know and he adverted his gaze from his boss. She continued, "Keep trying on those hearing aids, I think you're onto something."

Barb nodded, "Yes ma'am! Though I think I'm just gonna scrap these and start over."

Cynthia glanced at the gear in her hands and looked her up and down. "Hm. That's a shame, it was pretty entertaining to watch." At those words his cheeks turned a pale pink, making her smirk. She was about to turn and leave, but stopped to face Curt.

"She's right, you better not let anyone else find out about you're little weakness.  You don't want anyone else using it against you," she said in a tone that was almost teasing and reached out to squeeze his side. She chuckled when he jumped and smacked her hand away, shaking her head fondly. With that, she left.

Curt glared down at Barb, but his smile made the look less threatening. "I'm never gonna live that down am I?" She was grinning so much that her eyes squinted at the corners.

"Nope." Curt simply let out a sigh at the confirmation of his fate. He didn't dwell on it for too long though.

He clapped his hands to break the silence, "If you don't mind, I think I'll hang on to these. Pretty good for a prank, and I think I know just the posh son of a bitch to try it out on." He couldn't keep his smile at bay as he began to scheme.

Barb nudged his arm with her shoulder, "Now who's the ruthless one?"

[artisticestheticreads]

Brown Skin

This is my first fic with the thick God, M’Baku. This was inspired by a video I saw basically with a girl struggling with her headphones before talking on the phone and I believe the caption was ‘when he finally agrees to beat his meat on FT’. This contains smut, masturbation and lots of interesting fun.

RECOMMENDED LISTENING: BROWN SKIN BY INDIA.ARIE

~

You were on your way back from the gym, legs aching from leg day. The last time you felt this kind of pain was whenever you and your fiancé, Lord M’Baku, made wild, passionate love. You missed him dearly but because of the death of one of your close family members, you had to temporarily go home. You missed being around him so much that you felt his presence all around....and all over to add. You can still feel his lips on your plush ones, his fingertips caressing the dips in your brown skin. Every inch of him would ease inside of you with no hesitation due to how moist you get for him and him, only. No matter how many times you two have been intimate, it always felt like the first time. Which you can see him, all of him, but he was never into video chatting; he despised even though it was the only way you two can actually see each other until you went back to the Jabari Tribe. Of course, you had phone sex but you had to imagine when he would have his explosive orgasm. You pulled into the lot at Trader Joe’s to do your weekly grocery shopping for veggies and fruits. You parked and sat there still thinking about him when it was like magic, you saw the caller id 

and grinned. “Ello, Me Lord” you said in a phony British accent that made him roar laughter before replying. “Ello, me lady”. You lied back in your seat and said: “how are you today?”

“Better since I hear your voice, my love. And you?” You smiled and said “I’m fine. Just parked in Trader Joe’s.” He said, “I hope I’m not holding you up, my sweet.” You shook your head as if he can see you and said “no. No. You are fine. I need to sit for a while anyway. My legs are killing me.” You can hear a shower faucet turn off and he said “ahhh the infamous Leg Day. I should be the one making your legs shake.” The tone of his voice made a pool between your legs. “Bwoy, you betta stop knowing we can only do the over the phone thing”. “Are you sure, Y/N? Are you positive that I can’t see your beautiful body that was made for me to only please and cherish with every being of myself?” You got a little aroused but yet still confused. You asked, “what are you saying?” All of a sudden, you saw that you had incoming FaceTime call from “Baku!” You got super excited when you saw it but forgot that he was still calling. You answered the call and when you did, what you saw surprised you. There he was in all his glory, mahogany skin looked glowing from some type of tropical oils. His amber coils were still wet and he stood in the mirror putting oils in his beard and brows, in the nude. Your mouth was tapped open and you felt it water as well as your southern region. “Y/N, my love. Are you okay”, he asked in a caring, deep tone. You still stared nodding then he bent down so you can see his face. “Do you see something appealing to you,” he grinned at you. “Who gave you the right to look like that”, you asked pretending to be appalled making him chuckle. He stood up straight and, when he did, his thick ten inches of pleasure was harder than you ever witnessed. “Oh my beloved”, he said as he made it jump on its own. You looked up to his face as he backed away and said “huh?” He chuckled and asked “would you like to have some fun with me” as he stroked himself. Immediately, you tossed your phone in the back, grabbed you earbuds and heard him say “y/n?” You climbed into the backseat over your seat and positioned your legs on the back of the seats, angling the phone on the armrest. “Hold on. Wait. Don’t start yet” you exclaimed as you tried to untangle your Bluetooth headphones. You heard him chuckle as soon as you turned your headphones on so that you can imagine his voice right in your ears. “Okay, ready,” you said with a huge smile. He was still stroking himself, slowly looking at you, dead quiet. “Are you okay, Baku?” you asked. “Does not seem fair. I’m fully in the nude and you are not.” You placed your hands on the seam of your leggings and tore a hole for him to see you with no underwear on.

“I see someone was ready for me,” he said getting a handful of oil and beginning to stroke slowly as he watched you stimulate your clit. Your eyes were getting low then he asked: “what are you thinking of, my love?”

“I’m imagining your tongue on my clit. That wide, thick, wet tongue lapping up my juices oh so right.” He chuckled lowly and said “well, I’m thinking of your throat tighten around my thick, throbbing dick. Your tongue gliding on each vein slowly, making me weak in the knees with every stroke.” You grew wetter by the second, per usual. You can hear every inch of your wetness, lapping up as you imagined it to be your lover’s thick long tongue. “My love, stick two fingers inside. I want you to think about my hard dick stretching you. Yes, just like that.” He watched as our fingers stretched out your tight, pink lotus flower lips apart. You started at a slow pace like he would so he did the same with his hand. You looked down at your cream coated hand then up to him. You watched as he pumped faster, following your movements and his head to the ceiling. You can see the sweat and oil dripping down his brown body and felt that familiar knot in your stomach. You closed your eyes with a bite of your lip and heard “let me see those eyes, my Goddess.”

   You looked up at him and felt your fingers clench as you watched that broad chest of his move with every breath. “Oh, my sweet” he started to say. “I wish you were here. I wish I can feel you. Every delicate inch all over me.” You started to moan as you kept going and releasing your full breast out of your sports bra, tugging at your nipples. “Ugh, Y/N. I’m about to come. Come with me.”

“Yes, my Lord.” You can feel like you were about to climax as you heard the noises he made. Moans, groans, and growls made love to your eardrums. You heard a beeping noise as well but ignored it. “I’m coming, I’m coming”, he said making sure you could see him but then...

“Baku? Baku? Baby?” You pressed the home button realizing your phone had died. “Son of a bitch”, you said as you yank your earbuds out, folded arms and legs wide open. That’s when you realized you were being watched across the way by a family of four across the way. You fixed your bra, climbed into the front seat, and pulled off to your place. You went to your room when you felt a presence behind you. You turned swiftly to see M’Baku was in your bathroom doorway. He was at your place the whole time? He was still fully naked, member dripping in cum and still hard. “My love. It looks like you are in need of a nice, warm bubble bath and some TLC.” He lifted your legs in his arms, bridal style as you kissed him as you made your way to the bathroom to show how much you two missed each other.

YAAAAAAS. He was there the whole time. Tell me what y’all think and if there should be part two.

~

𝒯𝒜𝒢𝒢𝐸𝒟 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸𝒮

@muse-of-mbaku

@im5ftbutmythroat66

@chaneajoyyy

@melanin-samii

@theunsweetenedtruth

@doux-ciel

@unicornluvin8765

@vikkidc

@wakandantings

@thadelightfulone

@mzamethystp

@simbiann

@tropicalsun10

@babydoll756

@notoriouslynay

@vminax

@quinsly

@pinkdemolition

@quietstorm-73

@chaoticcashfancroissant

@bugngiz

@chocolatedippedinhoney

@yafavcocoa

@lostgalaxies

@mbakuwife

@babygotl01292003

@youreadthatright

@acceptyourselfloveyourself

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen | preview | five

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

A/N Part Two- Him in the above gif is just MMMM

five - make him hurt, make me bleed

“Alright, you know what to do.” I gestured in front, leaning back in my seat as I glanced at Olivia. “We’re moving onto slower roads, so clutch, change gears.” She did as I asked, and I grinned, clapping as quietly as I could to not spook her. “Good work, sweetheart. You’re a natural, just like your mom.” We pulled up at a grocery store, so I grabbed my wallet, prepping to get out. “Hang tight, gun’s in the glovebox, keep the car door locked until you see me at the passenger’s door, ok?”

“Got it, auntie.” She nodded, so I relaxed, getting out of the car. I shut the door, making my way inside the store while whistling a little tune. I made a beeline for the fruits, picking up a basket on the way before picking out the best ones, dropping them into my basket. My whistling turned into a hum, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face before inspecting a box of strawberries.

“Sunflower, I’m plannin’ on making some strawberry cheesecake, do you think these are good?” Lucy held up a box of rasberries, grinning innocently because if she didn’t know. I smirked knowingly, and replaced the box of raspberries with a box of strawberries. “Oh! Thanks. Silly me.”

“Issy?” I was yanked reluctantly out of the memory, looking up and my blood running cold as I saw… Harry. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly. “It is you, oh, I knew it!” There he goes again with that British accent that makes my skin crawl. It used to make my knees weak.

“Harry.” I sighed, smiling politely, but it faltered when I saw Rhea walk up with… Tom. I locked eyes with the boy and it clicked instantly, a sharp pang of pain shooting through my chest. “And Tom’s… your son?”

“You know my boy?” Harry grinned, clapping Tom on the shoulder. “Well, my darling-” He held Rhea’s hand, which I noticed had a shiny ring on it, “and I adopted Tom a while ago. Rhea, you know Isabelle, right?”

“You’re Tom’s old friend, right?” The redhead smiled, putting out her hand. “Rhea Summers- no, sorry, Holden. Rhea Holden, neé Summers, it’s hard to compute.”

I shook her hand, forcing a chuckle, my mouth feeling dry. “Elle Joyner.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

[hazyheel]

WWE Summerslam 2019 Review

So before I get into the show, I am going to try something new on some of these reviews. Sometimes I watch the big shows with my girlfriend, who will now be referred to as HazyHannah, and she wanted me to throw in some of her comments. So at the end of each grade section, imma write down some things that she said during the match. If you want to check out her blog, it is @hanster36. 

Drew Gulak vs. Oney Lorcan for the WWE Cruiserweight Championship: This was the first match of the kickoff show, which was disappointing to see, but something had to be in this spot. Gulak started out with a vicious shotgun dropkick, but the two mat technicians naturally went hold for hold right after that. Lorcan was actually keeping up with Gulak, so he issued a vicious slam right afterwards, then moving back into some holds. Lorcan didn’t actually regain the advantage until he took things to the outside for a hard hitting brawl. Lorcan then rolled Gulak back into the ring, only for Gulak to lock in the Gulock for a quick submission sequence. They then started with a striking contest, which Gulak won with a vicious series of slaps, finishing off by locking in the Gulock, but Lorcan rolled through for a very near fall. Lorcan then picked up Gulak and dealt several slaps and European uppercuts. Lorcan tried to hit the Half and Half Suplex, but Gulak held onto the ring skirt. As the ref went to put it back in place, Gulak nailed Lorcan with a right to the throat, and then a Cyclone Crash for the win. 

Grade: B-. Pretty good match. They are very similar wrestlers so they blended together quite well. The two ripped into each other with vicious strikes, and Lorcan only got madder and madder as the match went on, as he usually does. He was overwhelming Gulak, so Gulak had to bend the rules a bit to get the win. He didn’t outright cheat, but this was far from an honest victory. Interesting to see where this goes. 

Apollo Crews vs. Buddy Murphy: finally, Murphy’s debut match. This should have happened months ago, on TV. Murphy started with an awesome high knee for a near fall right out of the gate. He continued to follow up with various stiff kicks and strikes to a grounded Crews. Crews fought back a bit and they had some back and forth. At one point, Murphy went for a crossbody off the middle rope, but Crews countered with a samoan drop, followed by a moonsault for a near fall. The two continued to fight, and Murphy was able to nail a cheeky nandos kick in the corner, followed by a powerbomb for a near fall. The two then continued to fight on the outside. Murphy then threw Crews into the barricade and followed up with a tope con hilo. After Murphy threw Crews back into the ring, Rowan ran in from behind and started to beat Murphy down. Murphy won the match by disqualification. 

Rowan threw Murphy all around ringside, and wiped him out with a running crossbody. He finished it off with a powerbomb into the ring post. 

Grade: C+. The two were actually having a pretty good match here. Crews is a great striker just like Murphy, with just enough flying between the two of them to have an exciting contest for the pre show. However, the finish was not good. Yes, Murphy won, but he looked weak in his victory. And in his first match, he was beaten down ridiculously afterwards. He was not able to really get over because of it, and I really didn’t like that booking. But I won’t lower it too much because their match was decent. More time would have done them good. 

Alexa Bliss & Nikki Cross vs. The IIconics for the WWE Women’s Tag Team Championships: I’m glad that these belts actually got on the card. They deserve better than the pre-show, but they need to be built up a bit more before they can hit the main show. Bliss was dressed as Buzz Lightyear ring gear, which for some reason pissed off Corey Graves to no end. It seems like Bliss is going face after winning these belts, which is certainly interesting. Saxton was defending Cross too, this is an odd switch of character. At one point, Bliss was yelling at Peyton Royce on the outside, and then turned right around into a big boot from Billy Cay for a near fall. Royce followed it up with a really nice shinbreaker for a near fall, and threw a tantrum after. She went to continue the assault, but Bliss floored her with a strike to the jaw. She went up for Twisted Bliss, only for Cay to try and pull her off the top rope. Cross yanked Cay off the apron, and Bliss hit Twisted Bliss to retain. 

Grade: D. This sucked. The IIconics are just bad. I’m glad they lost the belts. Bliss and Cross have yet to really impress me, but they were not what I disliked about this. The IIconics aren’t very good, and the sudden change in opinion from the commentators was very odd. It was about half way through the match when Graves started to talk about how he hates that Bliss went soft. That makes sense, but her liking Disney is no reason to start hating her. 

Becky Lynch vs. Natalya in a submission match for the Raw Women’s Championship: Nattie came out second because she is from Canada, which is more important than the belt. Naturally, they started with a couple slaps to the face, but Lynch quickly unloaded on her in the corner. Lynch locked in a triangle quickly, but Nattie rolled them to the outside and started to assault the legs. Nattie then gave her a snap vertical suplex, which her leg snapping into the ropes. At one point, Natalya wrapped Lynch’s legs in a sharpshooter on the top rope for a great visual. The only way that Lynch could escape was by falling to the outside. At first I didn’t like that a submission match didn’t have countouts or DQ’s, but it certainly improved the match. At one point, Lynch caught Nattie out of a basement dropkick, and Lynch locked in a sharpshooter of her own. After escaping, Nattie locked in a disarmer, turning the tables and dragging Lynch back into the middle of the ring. As Lynch tried to reverse into her own hold, Nattie had a great reversal into a sharpshooter for an intense submission sequence, where Lynch had to slide out of the ring to escape. Lynch slid back in and locked in the Disarmer for the win.

Grade: B. Pretty good technical exchange to open up the card. Meticulous holds, some nice limb work, just a solid match. The finish was not very dramatic, especially after a much better submission sequence with Nattie in control, but it was certainly the right outcome. The crowd was behind Natalya a lot during this match, so there was a hot atmosphere. It got everyone pumped up, so there was certainly nothing to complain about. HazyHannah (my girlfriend) says: Nattie is a dumb nickname. 

Backstage, Trish Stratus was interviewed, and she said that although she is feeling the pressure, that is when she thrives. She said that tonight, she will prove that those who paved the way for the women’s evolution are just as good as the women of today. Stratus declared herself the Queen of Queens, and left. 

Dolph Ziggler vs. Goldberg: Ziggler cut a promo, saying that he is the best thing in pro wrestling today. He said that Goldberg fears Ziggler, and Goldberg’s music cut him off. He did not whack his head on the door this time around. The two squared off right away, and Ziggler hit a quick superkick, but Goldberg kicked out at one. Ziggler nailed another, and another kickout at one. Goldberg speared Ziggler out of his shoes, and gave him the jackhammer for the win.

After the match, Ziggler got on the mic and called Goldberg a dipshit and said that he hits like a baby. He told Goldberg to fight him like a man. Golderg walked back to the ring, before Ziggler even got back to his feet. He gave him another spear, and another great sell. Ziggler got on the mic again after Goldberg left, and said that anyone can get lucky twice, and said that he didn’t have balls. He called Goldberg a laughingstock, and said that he will never stay down. When Goldberg got in the ring, he threw the mic away, helped him up, and gave him another wicked spear. 

Grade: B+. Everything I wanted it to be. Less than a minute. Wonderful. Above average squash match and Ziggler sold like he was a limp corpse. The extra attacks where what bumped this up to a B+. This was really really fun to see, and even though a legend shouldn’t beat a full time guy, this was an exception. Just some fun stuff. I loved it. HazyHannah says: match of the night. This could have gone on for the rest of the night and I would have been fine with it. “Anyone can get lucky THREE times.”

Before the next match, they showed the international commentators, and they showed the british announce team. It was Carmella and R-Truth, trying to hide. They had an awful accent and it was awesome. Drake Maverick showed up to try to get the pin, but they ran before he got there. Funny stuff, it was nice to see. 

AJ Styles vs. Ricochet for the WWE United States Championship: Ricochet was out in a full jumpsuit, looking like a biker Batman. Ricochet quickly used the OC out at ringside to his advantage, jumping off of them to hit Styles with a flying hurricanrana. Styles quickly got the advantage, and started to take out Ricochet’s base. Ricochet sold the leg like really well, even selling it when he hit his offense. At one point, Ricochet went for a springboard forearm, but only used one leg and got a near fall out of it. Several times as Ricochet went for his high impact offense, his knee buckled out from under him and he couldn’t continue. Styles capitalized on this and locked it a Calf Crusher, but Ricochet quickly transitioned into an Anaconda Vice. Ricochet took the advantage, and he had to fight off Anderson and Gallows on the outside, and Ricochet went for a twisting 450 splash, but Styles caught him in the air and transitioned into a Styles Clash for the win. It was an awesome finish. 

After the match, the OC hit Ricochet with a Magic Killer and gave a Too Sweet. 

Grade: B+. Good stuff from these two, good selling from Ricochet. They had a nice strike based match that was interlaid with some great leg work. Still probably not the best that they can do, but it was fun. That finishing spot was badass too. Really good stuff, but still not as good as I expected. HazyHannah says: Ricochet looked like a robot, and they hid his gorgeous muscles. When a man has that much muscles, you let ‘em pop.

Backstage again, we saw the Street Profits putting over Summerslam and Toronto. As they were talking, Ric Flair came up and they started to dance around with him and wooed a whole bunch. It was cute. 

Bayley vs. Ember Moon for the Smackdown Women’s Championship. The two started with a bit of grappling before getting into some nice striking. Bayley worked over Moon’s neck and back with various suplexes. Bayley even locked in a weird reverse boston crab, which looked painful but odd. Moon was able to fight back with some of her very interesting offense, kipping up for a hurricanrana and then a superkick. But when she went for a suicide dive, Bayley countered with a stiff strike to the face. Bayley tried to capitalize with a superplex, but Moon nailed a super hurricanrana, and then a spinout codebreaker for a near fall. Bayley won a bit out of nowhere, with a Bayley to belly off the top for the win.

Grade: B-. They had some good interactions, but it felt like they just started to go from move to move randomly, without much story or reason. Moon looked good though, and got a big pop during one of her near falls. So people like her a lot, she could be big. But it makes sense that Bayley won, this isn’t quite the match where it is her place to lose. I hope they do more with moon in the future, because she is great. HazyHannah says: Ember Moon looks like someone’s first D&D character. 

Kevin Owens vs. Shane McMahon, if Owens loses then he quits: Before the match started, Shane got on the mic and called out Elias as the special guest enforcer. Shane rolled out of the ring right away, and Elias prevented Owens from attacking him. Eventually Shane got the first hit, and the two teed off on each other in the corner. At one point, Owens went to attack Shane on the outside, but Elias distracted him and allowed Shane to chuck him off and into the barricade. At one point, Shane tried to go for a Sharpshooter, but Owens pushed him away and nailed a pop up powerbomb, but Elias hopped on the apron and made sure the ref couldn’t count. Elias then threw a chair in the ring, which Owens nearly used, but opted not to. Shane then accidentally nailed Elias with a forearm, so Owens nailed a superkick, aa swanton bomb and a frog splash, but Elias pulled the ref out of the ring and stopped the count. Owens then gave Elias a cannonball off the apron, hitting both Elias and the ref. Owens opted to beat down Elias with a chair while the ref was down, taking him out of the equation. The ref got back in the ring and threw the chair away, so Owens gave Shane a low blow and a stunner for the win.

Grade: C. The overbooking of this match made it better than expected, but it still wasn’t very good. Fun to see some comeuppance. The low blow was satisfying. But this was just fun enough to be okay. HazyHannah says: I just don’t really care about this one. 

Charlotte Flair vs. Trish Stratus: the two started with a classic staredown, but Trish came out swinging with a Thesz press. Charlotte quickly gained control by throwing her into the apron. Stratus was very much overwhelmed in this match. at one point she was hit with a big boot off the apron. Charlotte then held the ring ropes open, and then ambushed her as she entered. She was constantly jaw jacking with Stratus, who would constantly get too frustrated and get a couple shots in. At one point, the two battled on the top rope, and Charlotte nearly landed a super powerbomb, but Stratus countered with a hurricanrana for a near fall. Flair targeted the leg afterwards, giving Stratus a bit more respect. Stratus then locked in a figure four of her own to a huge pop. She even bridged into the figure 8, prompting Corey Graves to say “it’s not fair to flair.” Stratus then hit Stratusfaction, but Charlotte still kicked out. Stratus then tried to keep fighting, but Charlotte put her down with a big boot, and locked in the figure 8 for the win.

Grade: B+. This was quite a solid match. Stratus delivered a much better match than a lot of people expected, and I think that she could have another run in WWE if she wanted to. Charlotte was awesome here, playing up the “legend not good enough” angle. Her trash talking was great, and the second that she realized that Stratus was dangerous, Charlotte got serious and put her down. Good story and a good match. HazyHannah says: why do they have to wear extensions? Just let them put their hair up. Vince is a disgusting old man who loves blondes.

Backstage, Bret Hart gave Seth Rollins some encouragement. 

Kofi Kingston vs. Randy Orton for the WWE Championship: As the match started Orton tried to give Kingston a pancake, but Kofi was not having the disrespect. Orton tried to push the champion, but Kingston was not just going to take that. He pushed right back and stood up to his old enemy. Early on, Orton pushed Kingston off the top and sent him flying into the barricade. Orton then slowed the pace down attacked each limb. Kofi fought back, giving Orton a boom drop and calling him stupid a bunch. Kingston then tried for trouble in paradise, but Orton caught him and gave him a brutal neckbreaker. on the outside, Kingston gave Orton an awesome flying clothesline to the outside, but he didn’t keep control for long. Orton gave him a hangman’s DDT, and tried for an RKO, but Kofi fought out. Kingston pushed him away and went for a splash, but Orton caught him with an RKO, but Kingston rolled to the outside. Orton then followed him to the outside and went to embarrass him in front of his kids, but Kofi fought back with a flurry of strikes. Then ref called for the bell for a double countout, ending the match in a stupid and BS way, which the crowd definitely agreed with. 

Kingston destroyed him with kendo stick shots to the back. He shattered the stick, and every time he hit Orton, the crowd chanted stupid. 

Grade: D+. This wasn’t too exciting. The action was slow, they didn’t incorporate the story into the match at all, and the ending was dumb and unnecessary.  Kingston should have won and just finished the feud. Summerslam is a place to cap things off, not start new things. This feud didn’t need to continue, but now it well. Not a good match. HazyHannah says: I fucking hate Orton. He is so boring. When they called him a brick wall, it is only because he has no personality or charisma. He has cool tattoos though. 

Finn Balor vs. The Fiend: Wyatt’s entrance was awesome, it was creepy as all hell. He had a lantern in a severed head, and a remixed version of his music. It started with the firefly funhouse but slowly morphed into the darker fiend color scheme, with “Let Me In” showing up word by word on the titantron. He was getting Holy Shit chants the second that he got in the ring. The Fiend changed up his mannerisms to be creepier and more sadistic, and was powering him all around the ring. He delivered wicked strikes to his head, neck and back. He nearly hit sister abigail, but Balor fought out of it with some quick strikes and attacks. Finn went to the top for the Coup de Gras, but the Fiend caught him in the mandible claw and got the pin.

After the match, the lights went out and The Fiend was illuminated with strobe lights, and then he was gone, leaving Balor alone in the ring. 

Grade: B-. A perfectly cool squash match. Exactly what it needed to be. It was creepy, showcased a new cool character, and got over with the crowd right away. Now we just need to see how the book the Fiend from here. I hope he isn’t wrestling every week on TV, because he needs a mystique around him. Keep up the firefly funhouse stuff, and let him be cool for a while, at least until he has a story that he needs to lose in. HazyHannah says: Finn looks like he is wearing a diaper. It is really distracting. But it’s a good thing he is wearing one, cuz the Fiend probably made him piss his pants. 

Brock Lesnar vs. Seth Rollins for the WWE Universal Championship: Rollins came out with his ribs taped up. Lesnar targeted the ribs, and Rollins sold like he was shot every time. Early on Lesnar went for a German suplex, but Rollins flipped out of it and nailed the curb stomp for a near fall. Rollins then nailed a flying knee, a pair of superkicks, but was caught in an F5 when he went for the curb stomp. Lesnar then picked Rollins up by the wrapping on his ribs and threw him across the ring. Lesnar kept control for a long time, delivering loads of German suplexes. He tried to give Rollins an F5 into the ring post, but Rollins slipped out and shoved him into it. Rollins tried to keep it up, but Lesnar continued with the German suplexes. He even busted out a bear hug to continue the attack on the ribs. Rollins fought back into it and delivered a pair of suicide dives, but Brock caught him on the third and ran him into the ringpost. Lesnar then went for a move through the table, but Seth countered and got him on the table with a superkick, giving him a huge frog splash through it. He and Lesnar got back in the ring, so Lesnar nailed him with another frog splash, and hit a Curb Stomp for yet another near fall. Rollins then went for the curb stomp again, but Lesnar got him up for an F5. Rollins slipped out and nailed another superkick, finishing the match with a Curb Stomp. 

Grade: A-. This was a really good match. They had a lot of big spots that were mixed in with working over Rollins’ ribs, and they did a really good job of convincing us that Rollins couldn’t win this. He was doing a great job of being in peril, and it made for a great match. Awesome selling from both guys, and Rollins once again overcame the odds. Match of the night. HazyHannah says: this is the best match of the night and it’s only been 5 minutes. 

Overall Grade: B-

Predictions: 9/10. Although the finish of the WWE Championship was dumb.

Pros: Nattie vs. Lynch; goldberg squash; style vs. ricochet; charlotte vs. stratus; fiend debut; main event

Cons: owens vs. shane; kingston vs. orton

[hazandholland]

Cafe at the Corner of the Block

Written by Christina

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1986

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been a long time since I’ve written, and I’m sorry. University life has been kicking my butt, tbh. I just finished finals week, so I’m hoping to get some more writing in over winter break. I’m sorry if this is crap. I got the idea while watching “Numb3rs”, which I’ve recently become obsessed with, so I decided to write a Detective!Tom AU. Enjoy!

Tom growled and slammed the file down on the desk. The smack of the papers hitting the flat surface made his best friend jump. The tan-skinned man jumped, nearly spilling the coffee he held. He sighed when his nerves settled down, shaking his head.

“Come on, man,” He said, exasperated. “Don’t do that. You know that scares me.”

Tom jabbed a finger at the board that was littered in pictures, maps and red string. He was in a small briefing room in the middle of a New York City precinct. He was with his detective buddy, working on a recent mafia case. It was proving to be a tough one to crack. And it was driving Tom crazy.

“I can’t figure out where in the world they are,” he growled, clenching his jaw and putting his hands on his hips in frustration. The motion made one of the sleeves that was rolled up to his elbows slip and fall down to his wrist. He growled again and jammed the sleeve back up to his elbow before yanking a photo off the board.

“Rigelletto was here,” Tom said, shaking the photo of the dock in his hand. “That’s what Urich said. 12:03pm. That’s when he called us.”

“Yeah,” The man’s best friend said, taking a swig of his coffee. He made a face and glanced at the drink. “Did you make the coffee?”

“Yeah, why,” Tom snapped, yanking off another photo. “Then Urich said they were supposed to meet here, at Mel’s Diner at 12:30pm.”

“It’s really weak,” The man said. He set the cup down on the table.

“Shut up,” Tom said. “If I made it the way I like it, you would complain anyway.”

“Yeah,” The man said, as if it was obvious. He stood up and waddled to Tom. “Because I’m not a weirdo who likes a whole can of coffee in my cup.”

“It’s not a whole can!” Tom snapped.

“Well, it certainly tastes like it.”

“Shut up, man,” Tom groaned. He ran his fingers through his brown curls, messing them up even more. One of them fell over his forehead. He stopped and stared at the board, scanning over the information again. The other man stood next to Tom, crossing his arms and staring at the board as well.

“Maybe Rigelletto just decided to bail. Wouldn’t be uncommon. Mobsters do it all the time.”

“Yeah, but we know that Rigelletto always meets Urich,” Tom argued. “He’s never just not shown up before.”

“First time for everything,” The man said. Tom sighed.

“Where are they hiding the money,” Tom whispered, scanning the photos for the umpteenth time.

“My guess stays the same,” The other man said.

Tom groaned in irritation. “It’s not in a secret underground tunnel!”

“I got rid of that theory a long time ago. It’s obviously hidden in plain sight but the only way you can find it is if you crack the cipher hidden on the back of the Constitution.”

Tom stared at his friend.

“Jacob,” Tom said, licking his lips. “How did you become detective?”

“They liked my dashing good looks and killer wit.”

Tom snorted.

“Don’t laugh,” Jacob said, smacking Tom on the arm. “It’s rude.”

“Whatever, man,” Tom said, shaking his head. He glanced at the photos again. A moment of silence passed before Jacob nudged Tom in the arm.

“Why don’t you get some lunch or something?” Jacob suggested nonchalantly.

“I’m fine,” Tom snapped.

“Man, just take twenty minutes,” Jacob insisted.”Get something quick from the deli down the block and come right back here.”

“Why don’t you get it?”

“I’ve gotten lunch the past three weeks. Your turn.”

Tom sighed. “Give me twenty and I’ll go.”

“No,” Jacob shook his head. “It’s the deli on the corner, Tommy. Five bucks is enough for what I want.”

Tom glared at Jacob. “Don’t call me Tommy.”

Jacob rolled his eyes before fishing in his pockets to find a five dollar bill. He found one and held it out to his friend with a bright smile. “A number two with extra mayo, please.”

Tom sighed and grabbed the bill. He pulled the suit jacket off the chair next to Jacob, where Tom had been sitting earlier, and slipped over his shoulders. He checked his pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone. He clipped the gold police on his belt buckle and walked to the table where his gun was sitting. He pushed the gun into his shoulder holster, instantly feeling better when the heavy, cold metal pressed against his ribs. He pulled the jacket over the holster and slipped on his aviator sunglasses. He gave Jacob a half-hearted salute before opening the door and stepping out.

“Thanks, Tommy!” Jacob shouted gleefully as soon as Tom was about to close the door. Tom stopped and wheeled around, pulling his glasses off and jabbing a finger at Jacob to make a cutting remark.

“Detective Holland,” A crisp voice said. “Out to lunch, are we?” Tom stopped and straightened immediately. He adjusted his jacket.

“Yes, sir,” Tom said politely, nodding. He glanced at the police chief. The man’s trim dark goatee outlined the smirk the man had on his face. “Do you want anything, Chief Downey?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, kid,” The police chief answered, smiling. He walked toward Tom and clapped him on the back. Tom grunted at the impact. “Ah, Detective Balaton. How are you?”

“Doing very well, Mr. Downey, sir,” Jacob answered brightly. The chief smiled.

“We’ve been over this. Call me Robert, Jacob,” The man said, smiling.

“Right, sir. Sorry, sir. I mean, Mr. Robert,” Jacob said cheerfully. Tom bit back a groan at his friend’s politeness.

“Whatever floats your boat, kid,” The chief said. He slapped Tom on the back one last time before walking down the hallway to the main area. “Avengers! Assemble!” The police chief’s voice rang throughout the large space. Tom heard a low chuckle from the other officers.

“All due respect, sir,” A voice said. “I don’t think calling ourselves The Avengers is a good idea.”

“You’re the one that came up with it, Evans.”

“In my defense, sir, I drunk.”

“Well, Commissioner Lee liked it, so we’re sticking with it.”

Tom rolled his eyes, waved again to Jacob then set out to the diner at the corner of the block.

—————

You sighed, pushing back the strand of hair that fell over your eye. You flashed a bright smile.

“That will be $27.74,” You said cheerfully, eyeing the man and his family. The man gave a small smile back and handed you his card. You quickly ran the payment, reading the card before handing it back. “Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Faucher. Have a good day!” When the man and his family left, holding the plastic number tab indicating their order, you glanced around, seeing if anyone needed help. There wasn’t anyone in sight, so you scurried through the swinging metal doors to the kitchen, knowing there was a large pile of dirty dishes waiting for you.

The cafe was small, but it was a decent job. Paid well, hours were good and your boss was nice. You dealt with weird people, but that came with the territory of being in New York City. And besides, you didn’t really want to make a career out of this job, anyway. You just needed something to pay the bills until you could do what you truly loved to do. You began to wash the dishes, trying to get all them spotless. A few plates in, a loud dinging rang through the kitchen. You quickly finished washing the plate you were on.

“Be right with you!” You shouted towards the front as you dried the plate. You darted through the swinging metal doors. What you saw took your breath away. It was a man. A very, very attractive man in a suit. He had brown curls that looked as if he had constantly running his fingers through them and rich brown eyes. He was leaning against the counter, his suit jacket tugging against his large biceps. You gulped, forcing a smile on your face despite the butterflies flying in your stomach.

“Hi,” You said, stepping to the register. “What can I get going for you today?” The man quickly scanned you before smiling a little.

“An order to go. For me and my friend,” He answered, with a slight accent.

You nodded. “Okay. And what would that be?”

He rattled off the order, and you almost forgot to put it into the register because he was just so good-looking. You frantically typed in the order and pushed the button to run the payment.

“That would be $10.35,” You said politely. You risked gazing into his eyes and instantly got lost. They were so rich and warm. He stared back. There was a few moments of silence before you were able to take the cash from his hand, sorted out the change and held out the coins in a shaking hand. The man shook his head, gently closing your fingers. His fingers were a little calloused and rough, but smooth and soft at the same time. They were also very warm. You felt electricity shoot up your arm at the contact.

“Keep the change,” He said, smiling a little. You smiled back and nodded, dropping the coins into the small tip jar. The coins clattered loudly.

“Thank you,” You said.

“You’re welcome,” The man paused as he scanned you again, his gaze stopping at your chest. You stiffened a little. “Y/N.” Oh, he was just reading your name tag. You relaxed a little.

“Well, you know my name,” You said. “Do I get to know yours?”

“Tom,” He answered, his accent getting thicker.

“I have to ask,” You said, instantly feeling embarrassed about what you were going to inquire.

“My accent?” The man asked, smirking.

You smiled sheepishly and nodded.

“I was born and raised in London,” Tom answered. “Never could quite shake off the accent.” He dropped his gaze and focused on the counter, running his finger in imaginary patterns over the surface.

“You were born in London?” You asked. An attractive British boy was talking to you? To you?! Oh, no way.

Tom chuckled. “Yes.” He glanced at you again. “What about you? If you don’t mind me asking, are you from here?”

You shook your head. “Just moved here a couple years ago. Decided to go to school here.”

“School?” Tom asked. You nodded. Before you could say more, the chef called out Tom’s order. You hurried to the pickup window and grabbed the brown bag holding the man’s food. You walked back to Tom, making sure to keep both hands on the bag so you wouldn’t drop it.

“Here you go!” You said cheerfully, sliding the back across the counter. Tom smiled and nodded his thanks. He grabbed the bag and his fingers brushed yours again. The touch made a shock go through your arm. Your fingers lingered there, both holding the bag, fingertips touching ever so slightly. Eventually, the two of you withdrew, albeit reluctantly.

“Actually,” Tom said, running his finger over the bag. “Do you mind if I call my friend and have him eat here with me?”

You nodded. “Yeah, do whatever you want. Fine with me.” You smiled.

Tom smiled and shook his head, a blush rising to his cheeks.

“I meant, would you be okay if I had lunch with you?” He asked. He gave you a textbook puppy-eyed look. Your heart melted. “My friend would have to join us though, since I have his food.” You blinked a few times, unsure whether you heard him right.

“You want me to have lunch with you?” You repeated.

Tom nodded. “Yeah. I’m kind of having a rough day at work and I, just, It’s been nice talking to you.”

You smiled. “Sure.”

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[kat-astrophic-todd]

Here's a Batfam prompt: Jason Todd trying to hide from his siblings in the days leading up to his birthday because he doesn't want to celebrate. Angsty or fluff, write whatever you want!

Note: sorry for the unnecessary reality TV references.

...

Jason huffed as he rolled across the rooftop after the jump. His heart pumping against his ribcage, grapple gun ready to fire. They were everywhere.

“Hoo-ood.” The sing-sung version of his name sounded unbelievably threatening. He had to keep running. They would catch him otherwise.

He heard the sound of the wind against a cape moments before firing the gun and jumping. Jason didn’t stop neither when his comm beeped in his ear, waiting for and answer nor when a Wing-Ding almost knocked the grapple gun out of his hand.

Spoiler had been keeping up with his pace but he saw her doubled over, trying to catch her breath. He caught a glimpse of a smirk just before she flipped him off.

Nightwing, on the other hand, looked like he could do this all night. What was he on? Venom? Even Jason was losing his breath at that point but he would be damned if he let himself be caught.

It wasn’t like he hated his birthday, he just hated them. Well, okay, maybe he didn’t hate them, just the way they acted around him. It was all smiles and trying to pretend everything was okay. Jason couldn’t help but remember how his mother would smile through the tears and serve Willis his dinner, how she would coax him to get from under the table, her black eye a stark contrast against her unhealthily pale, sweaty skin.

Jason always knew his place in this patched up family. He was willing to play the reject part, it was fine. But it was just plainly cruel to give him this celebration, as if he suddenly was back in the family, everyone giving him hugs and presents Jason knew he didn’t deserve. He couldn’t bear how Bruce would linger awkwardly near the living room door, waiting for Jason to leave.

It was ridiculous, half of them didn’t even want Jason there.

Last year Damian handed him a present from Talia while spitting some profanity in Arabic, the long box containing a set of curved blades that resembled too much Damian’s straight katanas. With every person in the room eyeing him strangely, Dick had attempted to fix the mood handing him another gift.

Jason would be more than happy to spend his birthday re-reading Hamlet or watching Oprah. But they knew how to make him bend to their wishes. They knew his weakness, his kryptonite, and his name was Alfred Pennyworth.

Just hearing the butler’s british accent on the phone would make him break, because Jason knew that he was the one who wanted him there the most. Alfred had never failed to show Jason how much he loved the broken boy.

And the old man knew it. He knew Jason couldn’t say no to him.

That’s why he avoided them.

“Just give up, Little Wing.” Nightwing shouted merrily while chasing him. And Jason wanted so bad to yank the helmet from his head to have some extra oxygen.

He felt relieved when he spotted his motorbike across the street, the red bat like a bloodstain on the grey paint.

He managed to get down and run to it without Nightwing catching up to him, which seemed like a little miracle. He started the engine and never looked back.

...

Two days until his birthday and then he could get back to his everyday life. Jason sighed, a little relieved, a little exasperated, and leaned back against his gargoyle enjoying the wind on his face. The extra large bag of Doritos was secured between his thighs and he chugged at the RedBull in his hand.

Yeah, sometimes growing up meant you could have an unhealthy meal once in a while. Jason smiled to himself.

“You’re sooo screwed, Jay.” Tim’s voice travelled through the night, hus tone sending chills down Jason’s spine.

“t.t.” he wasn’t alone.

“What are you two doing here.” If they were working together that meant nothing good could come out of this situation.

“We got you.” Tim smirked and showed him his very expensive Wayne Tech phone. The screen showed a video of Jason eating Doritos and drinking RedBull with a smug smile on his face.

“I didn’t know you were back to stalking people.” Jason stared at Tim unamused.

“Alfred’s going to be so disappointed.” Tim held a hand to his heart, the dramatic fucker. “You were the only one he trusted to eat healthy meals. Imagine his face when we show him this video…”

“You wouldn’t.” Jason instantly replied, all the joy his childish meal brought him, gone.

“But I sure would.” Damian declared with a wolf-like smile.

“Now that we have your attention,” Tim continued. It was like they had rehearsed this. Creepy. “we trust you’ll come to your birthday party.”

“Why?” Jason was downright frustrated by that point. “I know you don’t want me there. You should use that video to prevent me from going to the manor.” He gestured aggressively with his hands.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Todd. All that everyone has been talking about these past weeks is your party.” The kid rolled his eyes. “Even Mother. She’s already sent me your gift.”

Jason looked down, the fall didn’t seem so bad compared to having this conversation. Tim sighed.

“Look, Jason. We get your lone wolf vibe and all that but we want to be with you on your birthday. It’s the only time you let us, you know, be a family to you.” Tim waved at his general direction.

“What?” Jason scoffed. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. What alternative universe was this?

Tim and Damian looked at each other, unsure and turned their heads to him at the same time. Again, creepy.

“We…” Tim’s eyes were wide and shocked. “You know we wish everyday was like your birthday, right?”

“What are you talking about?” It sounded more like an accusation than a question. Damian frowned at him and took a step towards the gargoyle.

“Every year we spend weeks preparing for your birthday. Grayson and Brown have Father practice so he won’t do something that will make you lash out.” The words should have made him feel warm inside but he felt like he was being attacked Gordon Ramsay style. He was half expecting to be called “panini head”. “Pennyworth spends hours trying new recipes you might like. Even Thomas has been helping.”

“Jay,” Tim’s voice was soft, “everyone looks up to your birthday. We… we want you there, all the time.”

“You have a weird way to show it.” Jason wanted to believe them but the facts remained: they didn’t do anything to welcome him back. It was easy to behave one day a year, but Jason knew they wouldn’t be so welcoming if he decided to live with them.

“You self-righteous-”

“Easy, Damian.” Tim stopped him from smacking Jason. Tim turned to him when Damian calmed down. “I know you won’t believe us until you see it. That’s okay.” He combed his hair back with a hand, visibly trying to think what he should do. “You still have to come to the party because we’ve spent too many fucking hours working on it for you to throw that effort at our faces.” He looked at Jason coldly, unwaveringly.

“Fine,” Jason growled.

They were about to jump off the building when Tim turned back with a determined expression.

“Maybe, if you have the balls to do it, you’ll stay long enough to realize that the only thing stopping us from being your family, is you.”

And they jumped, leaving Jason feeling numb and Gordon Ramasy’ed.

[she-walked-away]

day 4: kc + "we take the same elevator every day and due to a misunderstanding I assumed you didn’t speak english and I’ve been talking to my friend about how hot you are for three weeks and apparently my friend has known from the start but you agreed not to tell me because you both think its hilarious what the fuck’ AU

I have’t a clue how this turned out the way it did, but bless Sara for this entertaining prompt!

Enjoy!

 Failure to Communicate

Caroline tapped her foot impatiently asshe waited for the elevator to descend from the top floor of her Chicago highriser office, Sire Industries. It was a rare Monday where she was running late.Her alarm failed to go off, she ripped her tights, and missed her train.

It didn’t help that she was expected inher boss’ office no less than two minutes ago with her work bestie Katherineand this new guy, Klaus, that had only been there for a month. Matters worse,he didn’t speak English and she’d be stuck translating all her notes with hertrusty Google translator to Norwegian.

Caroline felt someone come up behind herand she turned, cheeks pinking when she realized that it was the guy she wasjust thinking about. Klaus gave her a polite smile, his ashy blonde curlsstyled perfectly as he wiped a piece of lint off his navy suit jacket. Carolinereturned his smile and bit her lip, admiring his morning scruff and adorablysexy dimples.

Klaus transferred from the Norway officeabout a month ago and Caroline spared no time in making a complete ass ofherself on his first day. She’d asked him about how his relocation went and hejust stared at her, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. So naturally, shetried to speak slower, louder, and then ended up using hand gestures that shewas pretty sure came off offensive, thoroughly embarrassing herself and him.

Needless to say, his English hadn’timproved much based on how silent he was around her, and Caroline ended upusing google translation to convert her work emails to him from English toNorwegian.

“Care!”

She whirled around to see Katherinehurrying past the entry of the building, her chestnut curls flying behind her.

“Oh my God, how are we all late?!”Caroline exclaimed, looking over at Klaus who just continued to lookimpatiently at the elevator.

“I was busy last night,” Katherineshrugged, fixing her hair and clothes.

“With the bartender from Mystic,”Caroline snorted, mentioning the blue-eyed man that she and Katherine met lastweek at their favorite bar.

Her friend just smirked. “Let’s just saythat being from a small town is the only thing small about him, if youget my drift.”

The blonde made a face. “Ew, Kat. I didn’tneed to know that.”

Katherine shrugged casually. “If I havegood sex, you’re going to hear about it anyways.”

“It’s a good thing he can’t understandyou,” Caroline said motioning towards Klaus. “Hearing about the size of othermen’s penises probably isn’t an ideal way to start the morning.”

“I wonder what his size is,” Katherinemused. “Or, you do.”

“Shut up,” Caroline glared at her,cheeks pinking in embarrassment.

“Oh please, like EuroHottie would everobject to dating you,” Katherine chided.

EuroHottie was the nickname both of themhad for Klaus. Since he didn’t speak English, her and Katherine made up anickname for him so that whenever they talked about him, he was blissfullyunaware.

Okay so, Caroline had a slightly, yetmajor crush on the man.

Even though they never talked in person,he was always quick to open doors for her, smiling at her, and sometimes shefound him looking at her across the conference room. Plus, he always made surehis emails were translated perfectly in English.

She really should ask him what translatorhe used, if her attempt even came out correctly.

After glaring at Katherine, Carolineturned around and grumbled “Finally!” when the elevator doors opened. Klausmotioned for both of them to go in first, following them in and pushed thefloor number.

“I don’t know why you don’t ask him outalready,” Katherine said casually, taking out a mirror to check her lipstick.

“Um, maybe because we work together?”Caroline responded. “And he doesn’t speak English.”

“That’s discriminatory,” Katherinequipped.

“Not necessarily,” Caroline shot back. “Ifcan’t even carry a conversation with him, how can I go on a date with him?”

“You don’t know that unless you actuallymake an attempt,” she motioned toward Klaus who was now checking his phone.“Maybe try speaking to him.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. Katherine nudgedher arm, mouthing for her to say hello to the unawares man. The blonde glaredat her friend, yanking her arm away.  The shuffle of movement caughtKlaus’ attention and he glanced over his shoulder at her. She gave him a weaksmile and bit back a shiver when he returned it.

God, he was good looking.

Katherine snorted. “You realize you saidthat out loud?”

Caroline blushed, peeking at Klaus who waswatching both of them curiously, eyes narrowed confusedly.

“Sorry,” Caroline spoke to him, makingsure to enunciate. “Sleep deprivation.”

She motioned towards herself and yawned,further embarrassing herself and probably offending him. He probably thoughtshe was the crazy blonde who sent him poorly translated emails and used crazyoffensive hand gestures that basically looked like she was going to kill him.

“Oh god, this is just as awkward as whenyou two first met,” Katherine laughed and Caroline flicked her on the arm.

“Shut up,” she grumbled.

“I will when you ask him out.”

The elevator dinged, making the three ofthem look toward the door. Caroline just gripped her briefcase tighter,inwardly wishing the floor would swallow her up.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Katherinecontinued, tugging on one of Caroline’s curls, ignoring the blonde as sheswatted her away.

The elevator door opened and Klaus whirledaround and looked at Caroline, an amused looking smile playing at his lips.

“I think it’s a good idea too, love,” hespoke in perfect English, his voice exposing an irresistible sounding Britishaccent.

Caroline gaped at his, her jaw practicallyhitting the floor as Kat cackled in the background. Klaus just smirked and tooka step out of the elevator. She was so gobsmacked, her cheeks flushing hotly asher pulse rate tripled, that she didn’t realize that the elevator closed on herand Katherine, leaving them in the steel contraption.

That bastard.

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

Caroline fiddled with a pen between herfingers, peering down at the expense report on her desk. It had been a weeksince the incident, and she had successfully avoided Klaus for the mostpart. There were still those meetings in her boss’ office, but she passed thetime sending him daggers with her eyes while Katherine tried not to laugh.

To Caroline’s chagrin and humiliation,literally everybody in the office knew the entire time that Klaus spokeEnglish. There was even some stupid office pool betting on when she wouldfigure it out and how. It didn’t help that her supposed work bestie was theorchestrator, betting that Caroline wouldn’t find out until she and Klaus werein the throes of passion when he started dirty talking.

Despite Caroline’s vow to never forgiveher, Katherine ended up weaseling her way back into her good graces withtequila shots and queso dip along with an IOU for a pair of Jimmy Choos.

And Caroline did have a weakness for JimmyChoos.

There was a soft knock at her door andCaroline didn’t bother looking up, quickly telling them to come in as shestudied the figures in front of her.

“Hello, love.”

She snapped her head up and tossed theintruder a glare. “Get out.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, placing his handsin his pockets. “Oh, come on. You can’t hate me forever.”

Caroline arched her brows, crossing herarms over her chest as she chucked the pen down on her desk. “Oh, I can.”

“It was an honest mistake,” Klausexplained, dropping himself unceremoniously into the chair in front of herdesk.

“Mistake?!” Caroline sputteredincredulously. “Mistake?! You let me believe for weeks that you didn’tspeak English! I freaking even talked about you in front of you thinkingyou didn’t understand a single word!”

“Ah yes,” Klaus grinned. “EuroHottie? I’mflattered, love, really.”

Caroline clenched her jaw, feeling hercheeks flush in anger. “I’m about to throw this pen in your eye.”

Klaus chuckled amusedly, thoroughlyangering her even more. She blew out a breath huffily, shoving a lock of blondecurls behind her ear. He looked the picture of ease in front of her, his handsneatly folded in his lap while he sat relaxed in her chair, his stupidlyattractive gray suit fitting perfectly on his lean form. It was well past noonand he didn’t even have a single wrinkle on his suit from working.

Dammit.

“To be fair, you’ve been talking about mein front of me,” Klaus said casually, wiping at piece of nonexistent lint onhis knee. “And yes, I will take your thoughts about how baby blue shirts bringout my eyes into consideration. And give you an accurate description of mypenis size.”

Caroline scrunched her eyes shut inannoyance, feeling the blush rise on her cheeks. “Shut up.”

Klaus just chuckled, the sound sending atremor down her spine. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, meeting hissoft, apologetic expression. As pissed as she was about him, she kind of didassume that he didn’t speak English. And it’s definitely not polite to talkabout people when you think they can’t understand you.

Even if they’re slight asshats who didn’tbother to correct her assumptions. Slight, sexy, frustrating asshats.

“I really am sorry Caroline,” he murmured,leaning his elbows on her desk. “I had all intentions of telling you thatafternoon we first met, but things just kind of escalated.”

“Was it because I wrote that email in Norwegian?”she asked, shaking her head with a slight smile. “I sometimes get overeagerabout things.”

Klaus’ lips formed into a devastatingsmirk, bringing out the deep dimples on his face. Caroline’s stomach flippedover involuntarily and she bit her lip, her fingers itching to trace the markson his cheeks.

“It was very endearing,” he admitted. “Butterrible Norwegian. Google translate?”

“Yep,” she giggled, rolling her eyes. “Iwas just trying to help.”

“It was much appreciated, love,” hegrinned.

Caroline sighed, licking her bottom lip asshe tried to ignore Klaus following the motion with his eyes. “I guess I kindof jumped to conclusions right away about you.”

Klaus just shrugged. “I shouldn’t havecarried on with it.”

Ugh, damn that sexy British accent of his.It made it impossible to quell her crush on him.

Caroline stuck out her hand. “Start over?”

Klaus grinned, shaking her hand. “Ofcourse, sweetheart.”

She fixed him with a mock glare, ignoringthe electric zing the touch of his hand sent up her arm. “Hey, just because weare on somewhat okay-ish terms, you still don’t get the right to call mesweetheart.”

“Okay, muffin,” he quipped with a wink.

She rolled her eyes, but her lips quirkedup in a smile. “Shut up.”

He just pressed his lips together andraised his eyebrows amusedly. Caroline sighed good-naturedly, shaking her headas the butterflies in her stomach fluttered helplessly. If staring at him everyday made her heart flip like crazy, continually flirting with him now wasprobably going to send her to the hospital.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Always,” Klaus answered immediately.

“Why did you react so strangelywhen we first met?” Caroline asked curiously. “You literally looked like a deerin headlights.”

Klaus instantly looked sheepish, a lightsmattering of pink rising on his cheeks. He awkwardly scratched the back of hisneck and adjusted his seating in the chair. Caroline just continued to look athim, curiosity shining in her blue eyes.

“It’s actually kind of awkward,” Klausstarted. “And kind of cheesy.”

“Oh?” she arched a brow.

He shrugged before steeling himself,leveling her with an intense gaze. “Do you have any idea the kind of influenceyou have on people, love?”

“What do you mean? Like when I tell peoplewhat to do?” Caroline asked, wrinkling her nose. “Because, I hate to break itto you, but I am in charge of like five employees here so I kind of have toassign stuff to people.”

Klaus chuckled, shaking his head. “Notwhat I meant, but duly noted.”

“Then what do you mean?”

His face softened, a small smile playingon his lips. “Caroline, you light up a room when you walk into it. If I canhear your laugh at the beginning of the day, I’m instantly in a great mood forthe remainder of it.-”

Caroline’s heart began to pound as warmth spreadover her body, her pulse tripling with every word of his quiet confession.

“-You are strong, beautiful, and have thisincredible energy that is magnetic. I was quite-” Klaus paused, brow furrowingas he tried to find the correct word for what he was explaining. “-taken withyou right away. I admired you the moment I first saw you, lecturing thatDonovan woman about the expense report she turned in,” he grinned, recallingthe moment.

She pressed her lips together, biting backa smile.

“And when you came to talk to me,” hecontinued. “I was just utterly dumbstruck. I could barely think of my name, letalone what language I was supposed to be speaking.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, his wordsinwardly thrilling her. “Cheesy much?”

“I warned you,” he tossed back playfully.

She smiled despite herself, shaking herhead. “You are quite the smooth operator aren’t you?”

He arched his eyebrow. “That depends, isit working?”

Caroline studied him for a moment,worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she thought over the situation. Eventhough Klaus was mostly in the wrong with the whole speaking English debacle,both of them had made mistakes over the past month. As annoyed as she was withhim, a part of her, a much larger part, was still crushing hard on him. He wasfunny, smart, easy on the eyes with that accent of his definitely easy on herears.

Plus, she had been basically talking abouthim to Katherine about how hot he was for a month in front of him. She couldn’texactly say she wasn’t interested.

She narrowed her eyes at him, lifting herpointer finger. “Okay, fine. You can have one  date to make up forit.”

His face broke out in an illuminatingsmile that caused her breath to hitch and heart to skip a beat. He reached overand snagged her hand before she could move it, lifting her inner wrist to hislips and brushed a kiss over it. Caroline inhaled sharply, the effects of thesimple, chaste kiss spreading all over her body and settling between herthighs.

“I promise you won’t regret it,” Klausmurmured, his soft blue-green gaze holding hers.

Caroline tried to form a response but allshe could feel was his hand on hers and how tingly her wrist felt after hisstubble brushed against it.

“I also promise that it won’t be just onedate,” he continued cheekily, smirking at her with a loaded look.

She was in trouble.

Review Here :)

[revwinchester]

Useful

Summary: After being taken by the British Men of Letters, the reader is made to run their technology.  She is in the bunker when the American hunters come to reclaim their territory and get rid of the Brits.

Characters: Reader, Mr. Ketch, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester, other BMoL, other hunters

Word Count: 2200 (on the nose!)

Warnings: Season 12 BMoL canon typical violence (no witnesses and all that), death threats, lots of shooting of non-monster people, angst - but not the rip your heart out and cry kind, more suspense, maybe?, Season 12 spoilers

A/N: This is for the fifth week of the Hiatus Writing Challenge being hosted by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing.  The prompt I used was the phrase “please refrain from shooting her, we need her for later.”  I’ve barely gotten this done in time to post for the deadline so it’ll get tagged and maybe some edits a little later in the day.

Gunfire was raining down all around you.  You were huddled under a desk waiting, listening as the stomping feet of the shooters got closer and closer to where you were hiding.  The boots stopped every few feet to check beneath each desk and you had already heard it twice: the sound of someone being pulled from their hiding spot, then a gunshot followed by something heavy hitting the ground.  You braced yourself for the inevitable; you were going to die. 

When the feet stopped in front of your desk you held your breath, hoping against hope that they would just press on but of course they didn’t.  A man yanked you out from under your desk and dragged you to your feet.  As a gun was pressed against your head, you screwed your eyes shut and resolved not to beg.  Begging hadn’t done either of your coworkers any good.  But the gunman hesitated and you peeked your eyes open.  

A second man was standing beside him, now.  “Please refrain from shooting her, we need her for later,” the new man said.  Your savior had a posh British accent and was wearing a well tailored suit.  He didn’t speak another word to or about you until you were loaded into a big, black SUV and taken back to what you would later learn was the Men of Letters High Command.

From the outside, the Men of Letters headquarters wasn’t all that impressive.  In fact, it looked like a series of shipping crates cobbled together.  Inside, though, it was much more imposing.  There were rooms of screens and computers, what looked like more than one library, and even a door labeled “armory.”  You, however, were herded into a small room with nothing but a chair and left to wait, the noise of a lock sliding into place sounding clear in the quiet space once the door was shut.  

Hours passed, or maybe minutes, you really weren’t sure - you didn’t wear a watch and your phone had been taken from you in the car - before someone entered the room with you.  It was the posh man from earlier.

“Who are you and why am I here?” you asked, your voice wavering between your gratitude and fear.

The man smiled at you and it was almost predatory.  “My name is Mr. Ketch and you are here because we have use for you.”

Mr. Ketch went on to explain that the company you had worked for had been run by werewolves.  You didn’t believe him at first but he was able to produce some rather convincing video footage.  His organization, he told you, had systematically dealt with each of the wolves and when they found you, they were finishing up their job, tying up loose ends.  

That didn’t sit right with you.  Those loose ends were people and you told him as much but Mr. Ketch just laughed off your concern.  “Aren’t I a loose end, then?  Why spare me?”

“I told you, my dear, we have use for you,” he reminded you.  “As you can see, we’ve newly set up this particular base of operations.  You’re the brightest, most promising technical mind in the immediate area and we have need of your skills.”  The Men of Letters needed someone to set up and run their IT.  That’s why they had spared you.  Mr. Ketch told you what the job would entail and what was expected of you.  He never questioned whether or not you might want to do the job.

“So I’m your prisoner, then.  Your slave, really.”  It wasn’t a question.  Mr. Ketch had taken you from your life, killed most of the people you knew, locked you in a tiny room, and just told you what your new job responsibilities were.  From your perspective, there was no choice on the table.

His words surprised you, though.  “On the contrary, Y/N, you’re free to leave whenever you please.”  

You looked at him suspiciously, “I am?”  Nothing he had said or done would indicate that he was telling the truth right now but his voice seemed genuine.

Mr. Ketch clicked his tongue at you disparagingly.  “Of course,” he reiterated, “but, then again, you’d be shot the moment you set foot off of the base.  Loose ends and all that.  We can’t have any witnesses just wandering around.  I’m sure you understand.”

And that was how you found yourself running the technology for the Men of Letters.  You mostly kept out of the Brits’ ways.  As long as you kept their systems up and running, they had little need to speak with you and you were just fine with that.  They knew their threat to shoot you was enough to keep you in the bunker and compliant.

You were still upset about the Men of Letters killing everyone you worked with.  The people at the desks next to you hadn’t been werewolves and, yet, they had been shot with silver just like the creatures who had been in charge.  That didn’t seem right or fair to you.  It wasn’t much but you took some solace in small acts of defiance.  You ran all of the technology in the bunker, including the key cards that opened each of the doors.  So, instead of giving yourself level 5 clearance like you were supposed to, you granted yourself access to each and every door in the place.  Not even Mr. Ketch had that kind of power and he was one of the big fish in the Men of Letters pond.  You didn’t use the clearance you had given yourself - you couldn’t risk being caught in a room to which you shouldn’t have access - but knowing that you could get into even the most guarded of rooms (not to mention everyone’s private quarters) gave you a little thrill.

One of the Men of Letters was often kind to you, though, and you grew to like Mick.  Eventually, they started bringing in some Americans, too, who were also nice to you and you began to hope that there might be some escape for you with one of them.  However, they all were working with the Men of Letters, though the Brits would always make derogatory comments about the Americans after they would leave on jobs, and your hope soon faded.  You weren’t sure why the Brits hated the Americans so much but, then again, the Men of Letters was obviously a very old, very secret society, perhaps they were still sore about the Revolutionary War, you thought.

When things got particularly rough, you took solace in your budding friendship with Mick.  He wasn’t like the others but, after a while, he just stopped coming to see you.  He didn’t say why and, when you asked Mr. Ketch about it in passing once while you were working on his computer, he told you that Mick had been called back to the home office in London.  Some of the Americans started coming around less and less, as well.  Particularly the Winchesters, who you had taken notice of immediately.  They were both giant men, especially the younger one, so it was impossible to miss them.  Eventually, only Mary, Sam and Dean Winchesters’ mom, was left of the Americans and you suspected that the affair she had been carrying on with Mr. Ketch had something to do with her sticking around longer than the rest.

But even she stopped coming around as much, though you noticed her name still in official memos.  Her room was redesignated at a higher clearance level - only Mr. Ketch and Lady Bevel were supposed to have access now - and you wondered what happened behind that closed door.  Mary eventually rejoined the briefings and went out on jobs again but she seemed different somehow.  She was colder, more calculated, more like Mr. Ketch.

Now, barely seven months after being basically kidnapped and held captive by the Men of Letters, you were cowering under your desk again.  There was gunfire sounding out in the bunker and you had a distinct feeling that Mr. Ketch wouldn’t be coming to your rescue this time.  You had hacked into the security cameras and seen the footage.  The Americans who had slowly disappeared were back, along with some you had only seen on television screens, their photos plastered on the screen next to statistics and analysis of their weaknesses.   Sam Winchester was in the lead and it was clear that they were aiming to reclaim their homeland from the Brits.  

This time the person who found you was a woman.  You had never seen her in person around the bunker but you knew from seeing her photo that she was Sheriff Jody Mills.  Jody had a habit of taking in wayward youth who had found themselves on the wrong side of a supernatural encounter with nowhere else to turn and you prayed that her compassion would extend to Men of Letters captives as well.

“Help me,” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes.  This was it, either your rescue or your death.

You saw pity flash in Jody’s eyes for a brief moment.  She pulled you to your feet and walked you out of the office, her gun pressed into your back as she steered you toward where she was to rendezvous with the other hunters.  Sam Winchester was already there.  

“This one’s American and asked for help,” Jody explained before Sam could question why you were there.

You put your hands up in a sign of surrender.  “I can help you.  Just, please, get me out of here.”

Sam looked at you with suspicion in his eyes.  He recognized you from seeing you a few times around the bunker and you knew you had to talk fast if you wanted to make it out of this room alive.  “They killed everyone I know and kidnapped me.  Said they’d kill me too if I tried to leave.  It’s not much but I’ve been doing little things here and there to sabotage them or at least make their lives more difficult and I’ve got access to every door in the building.”

You were rambling and on the verge of tears but Sam lowered his gun and gave Jody a curt nod.  “We’ll do our best to keep you safe but we’re not giving you a gun.”  Sam was speaking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear it and his tone of voice was clear.  He didn’t trust you yet but you were under his protection and anyone who disagreed would have to answer to him.

You were grateful and stayed close to him and Jody as the group methodically worked their way through the rest of the building.  It wasn’t too terrible watching the hunters take apart the Men of Letters, though you jumped every time someone fired a gun, and soon enough the entire system had been dismantled.  You hadn’t seen any sign of Mr. Ketch in the bunker, though, and that worried you.  Maybe one of the hunters had gotten to him before they found you or perhaps he had been called back to the London office, too.  Either way, you hoped to never see the man and his wicked, predatory smile again.  

Once you were all outside, the news that Lucifer - THE Lucifer - was back in the game setting in, one of the hunters turned to Sam.  “What are we going to do with this one?” he asked, waving his gun in your direction.  

Sam glared at the hunter before looking to you.  “You’re free to go home, now,” he told you.  “No one’s going to shoot you for walking away.”

How did he know that had been the threat?  He had been a part of the organization for a short time but he had never seemed to get too deep into things with the Brits.  His mom had dove in head first but Sam had seemed more hesitant.  “I don’t have a home anymore.  Their no witnesses policy destroyed any semblance of home and friendship I’ve ever really known,” you admitted.  You barely knew the people surrounding you and you didn’t want to come across as weak or vulnerable in front of them but you didn’t really see another option besides the truth right now.  

You were looking at the ground but someone spoke up and you recognized the voice as belonging to Jody.  “You can come on back with me for as long as you need.  I’ve got the space at home as long as you don’t mind living with two teenage girls,” she offered.  “Maybe once you’re feeling up to it, you can help us run some tech.  It’s about time the hunting community stopped relying so heavily on oral histories and handwritten journals.”

You looked up at Jody with hesitation.  Her offer sounded nice but you didn’t want to find yourself in another situation like with the Men of Letters.

As if she sensed your thoughts, she added, “It’s not a condition of staying with me.  You’d be free to do as little or as much with hunting and hunters as you please.”

You nodded.  “Thank you,” you said quietly.  Then louder, “Thank you all.”

ALL THE TAGS! (forevers): @deathtonormalcy56 @supernaturalyobsessed @roxy-davenport @sumara62 @ginamsmith @gallifreyansass

"All Characters” list from the SPN Pond: @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @deals-with-demons @buffylovesfoxmulder

“All Characters” list from @mrswhozeewhatsis: @mrswhozeewhatsis @vintagevalentinexx @thinkwritexpress-official @bowtiesandapplepie @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @charliesbackbitches  @deandoesthingstome @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @mrsjohnsmith @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @SinceriouslyAmellPadalecki @i-never-said-a-pilot @thewinchestielboys @supermoonpanda  @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @prettyxwickedxthings @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien @olitzisbae @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls  @shortandlongstories @ackleslaugh @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @chrisatplay @faith-in-dean @kreborn17 @for-the-love-of-dean @winchesterfiesta @zanthiasplace @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @skybinx-blog @beachy2014 @impossible-box @tia58 @sams-little-toy @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @saving-things-hunting-family @jotink78 @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @pinknerdpanda @alangel1895