#Sorry about the quality again but I missed drawing them so I just pumped this out really quick

[kira-light0]

Don't forget to stay hydrated. Water is more important than cuddling.

I had a lot of free time today, so I decided to draw them. Unfortunately, I can not draw neither a table nor a glass of water, but at least Kirk and Spock are decent.

[fictionfunshop]

Welcome Home - One-shot

18+

This is pure filth - MGG needs to stop being hot.

You had been good. Tucked up in bed at a reasonable hour, book in hand skimming the pages, but you couldn't take your mind off Matthew. He had been gone for far too long for your liking. While you understood that he loved what he did, it's one of the qualities that drew you to him but two months on a set somewhere had you driven insane. You missed his knick-knacks around your place, his scent on the pillow and how he rasped encouragement in your ear while making your toes curl. Even now, when you think of it makes you shudder and miss him more than you should, although there could be another element to this. You thought back to your last phone call a few days ago.

"How's my girl?" He mumbles. You can hear the wine in his voice.

"Just missing you; when will you be home? I need you."

"Another week, missing you too, all of you… can't wait to get my hands on you again."

I can feel myself instantly dampen between my legs. This isn't the first time your conversations have gone this way. You have to give Matthew credit; he has a great imagination.

"I want you to do me a favour" this pricks your ears. "I want you not to touch yourself until you see me. Can you do that?"

You can feel yourself nodding your head and your answer stuck in your throat.

"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckles, "remember, I'll know if you have, so you better be good." With that, you hear the phone click and your heart hammering away in your chest.

You have been good for him so far. You've tried your best to distract yourself but think of him now; you can feel your resolve crumble. You laugh to yourself at how pathetic you are; a few days without any relief, and you feel like a horny teenager again. Your fingers absently trace around your nipple through your shirt, and it instantly hardens. You close the book in your hand and slide down your bed, letting your hands wander around your body, closing your eyes and imagining they were his calloused ones. You move them under your bed shirt and pinch your nipples hard, a groan tumbling from your lips. You grind your hips into the mattress, you can feel yourself dripping through your shorts, but you're determined to drag this out as long as you can because, after this, you're going to be good again until he's back. You slip your shirt over your head, the temperature in the room now at boiling point. You go back to pinching your nipples, harder this time, his name slipping from your mouth as you do it. You can't take it anymore. The wetness between your legs is now uncomfortable. You drop your hand down the waistband of your shorts and dip your fingers between the folds, and even you shocked at how wet you are. You dip your fingers into your centre, curling your fingers to try and reach the spot his skilled ones do so quickly; you whine when you realise your fingers won't do, so pump them in and out, stopping to draw circles around your clit. You're so caught up in your mumbles and the slow feeling between your legs that the sound of the door opening and closing, footsteps plodding along the hallway don't register.

"Well, well well, what do you have here?" He snaps you out of your trance.

There he is, the same gorgeous man who you've had filthy fantasies about standing in front of you. His hair is shorter than the last picture he sent, and his clothes rumpled from his flight.

"Matt?! What are you doing here?" You instinctively cover yourself up with the sheet which had pooled around your feet.

"Shoot ended early. Glad it did, or I would've missed the show. "He smirks as he drops his bag in the corner and sits on the side of the bed. "Although you did make me a promise…" you recognise the glint in his eye.

Sex with Matthew was the best, but rough sex with him was euphoric.

"I'm sorry, it was too much.." you play into him. "I was thinking of you-"

"As much as that turns me on, you need to be punished for breaking our promise.."

He gets up and opens my top bedside drawer, and pulls out a tie from an old kimono he had and the tiny silver bullet a friend got you for Christmas. You try to hide the smile on your face, but it's futile.

"You won't be smiling for long.." he grips both of your wrists, ties them together before he anchors them to the bedframe before he takes off your bed shorts. Noticing you're not wearing underwear, he shakes his head before he stands up from the bed. You watch him shrug off his cardigan and pull his t-shirt over his head. He unbuckles his belt and lets his trousers drop to the floor before he shakes them off along with his socks and shoes. I can already see he's hard through his boxers, and I unconsciously lick my lips.

"A week is all I asked you to wait, and you couldn't even do that…what will I do with you? "He climbs on the bed, his hands gliding up my legs to my thighs. I buck my hips towards him. "Even now, you're greedy for more…after tonight. You'll learn not to be."

"Matt-"

"Ah – I think you've said and done enough unless you want me to gag you too" he holds eye contact with me, cocking his eyebrow. The thought of him gagging me turned me on beyond belief. He sponges kisses on my stomach up between the valley of my breasts to my neck, where he latches on, taking out his frustration at my earlier performance on the tender skin. He uses this distraction to grab the bullet.

"Oh god.." I crane my head back to the pillow as I feel it trace around my nipples. He sits back upon his knees, smirking at his handiwork. He trails it down my stomach, stopping short above where I desperately need him. I grind my hips against him, but he only holds me in place with his free hand. He trails it back up towards my chest, circling my hard nipples, and I let out a whine. I jerk my wrists to try and touch them, but he tied you up as good as a scout leader because they barely budge. He notices and raises an eyebrow.

"You're going nowhere. I need to teach you a lesson on patience.." He glances down at your naked body and licks his lips, "I asked you not to touch yourself for your own good, and you still did it, always so greedy. Do I not satisfy you enough?"

I try to answer him, but I can now feel the small vibrator being dragged from my right hip down towards my sex. He latches his mouth to one of my nipples as he teases my sensitive outer lips, now soaked from all the teasing.

"Oh god", my hips lift off the bed with this. I can feel myself tighten as he emerges from my chest and hovers over me, and places a light kiss on my lips.

"You are so fucking sexy like this," he rasps in my ear; the vibrator is now inside your folds, coated in your juice. He hasn't even touched you where you wanted, and you were already wound uptight, your head dizzy, and you were sure your pupils were black like his, his eyes never resting anywhere for long.

"I'm going to count to ten, and then I'm going to let you come. Do you understand?" You nod your head; he kisses again, this time biting your lip as he moves back onto his knees on the bed, a prime view of the show he created. He moves the bullet right on your clit, and he watches your face.

"Fuck!" grind your hips into his hand.

"10…9…8…" he was smirking at my desperation. I tangle my fingers around the tie on my wrists to try and distract myself and dig my toes into the mattress.

"7…6…" you can feel the vibrations get more intense now, and a whine comes out of your lips; you are teetering on edge.

"Please…Oh God", you mumble out.

"5.." the bullet is now at top speed, "I told you to wait until after 10 for that I'm adding on an extra second" You can see by his face he is revelling in this, a few clicks and the bullet is back down to an average speed. He places one of his hands on your hips to keep you in place.

"5...4...3" you join in the counting, delirious for any relief from this. He speeds up the bullet again.

"2…1"

"Fuck!" you can feel tears sting your eyes as you finally jump off the edge. It took you a full minute to come down properly from what happened.

"You did so well," he attacks your lips. "You've soaked the bed; I didn't think you could do that." You can feel the damp patch now he said it.

"Are you going to untie me now I've been good?"

He doesn't hesitate as he reaches out with one of his hands and loosens the knot for you. Immediately your hands tangle in his hair, travelling down to where you could see he was rock hard.

"No, not now…Not done with you." He slips down his boxers before he places your legs over his shoulders, tenderly kissing the inside of your thigh before he snaps his hips forward; you can feel him hit your cervix as you let out another sob. He soothes the tears falling onto your cheeks, a contrast to the relentless speed his hips are going.

"You’re so beautiful like this", He mumbles, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, "So wet for me."

The pleasure between your legs is too much, no noises escaping from your mouth. You can feel the knot in your stomach form again and tighten around him, which he does too as he hisses in your ear, letting your legs go and burying his head into your neck, his teeth grazing the skin there. On instinct, your legs wrap around his hips.

"Matt...I – "

"Fuck – me too. Been too long.."

That was all the confirmation you both needed; he captures your lips as one of his hands wander between you two and circles your clit before you crumble around him, digging your nails into his shoulder. He pumps himself into you a few more times before he falls apart, breaking from your lips to let curse words flow from his mouth. He collapses on top of you for a few moments before he kisses your cheek and settles himself next to you. You crawl into the space by his side, your head on his chest and tangle your leg between his. He faces you, his free hand tracing your side and hip, a complete contrast to his previous actions. He tenderly places a kiss on your lips before it deepens it with his tongue.

"I missed you," he croaks between pecks on your lips.

"Me too. How did you get a key?" The haze of your activities has finally lifted, and you pull away from him.

"Oh, you never asked for it back when I came over a few months ago when you were convinced you left a tap running." He glances over at you; you laugh as you remember now. "So I just kept it, just in case."

"If you surprise me with this, you can keep it", you giggle, snuggling into his chest. "Welcome home, by the way."

You smile as he kisses you again, ready for round two.

[anntidote]

:club room keys - sawamura daichi

back to: series index || ann’s playground

pairing: sawamura daichi x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: timestop!au, TW!!dubcon, smut, angst, pwp, blowjob, deep throating, penetration, i still don’t know if this counts as somnophilia (?), mentions of kageyama, michimiya, and oikawa

summary: rain comes down heavy after student council duties, but you still have to drop off a set of keys. luckily, daichi helps you out- and there’s only so many ways that you can repay him.

a/n: dedicated to @ceo-of-daichi simply because lydz deserves a different daichi D word than drought. so here’s some dick LOL. 

the ring of the intercom and the bustling life of students. the clatter of shoes against the blue tile and chatter of passing conversation, definitely fell on deaf ears. your form slumping against the desk, and the weight of your face leaning into your palm. 

it'd been a couple days since your last run in with tobio, and the whole ordeal of the bathroom incident. the thoughts of him still living rent free in your mind-- at how his eyebrows scrunched up. pursed lips and the weeping tip of his cock, almost blushing the same shade of rose that graced his cheeks. 

wait. you shook your head. no. you told yourself you wouldn't think of him like that anymore. 

 tobio doesn't deserve to be a rebound. he deserves to be treasured, and loved correctly. your job was to keep that awkward, wobbly smile on his face when sipping on his milk straw. you were to worry about his studies, and whether he goes straight home after practice.

the last thing that should be bothering you is the voice at the back of your head. tethering your mindset elsewhere, and questioning why he was jacking off in the school bathroom in the first place. 

what made him so frustrated that he went during class?

did he like someone that much? was it someone you knew?

was that someone perhaps you?

"so will you do it?" hands slamming down on your desk, you bolt upright in shock. snapped out of a day dream, you're met with the sight of michimiya, captain of the girls' volleyball team. a crumb or two still on her face, her lopsided grin holds hope when she stares down at you. 

"h-huh?" you barely register her words to respond, still alarmed. "i asked if you were willing to drop off our gym's keys after practice. i need to hurry home to do something-- but…" she retracts her hands and props them on her hips. "... are you doing alright? you've seem out of it these couple days. it's not like you." 

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would."

your nose scrunches up a bit at the impromptu flashback. "just peachy." 

"oh really?" a tinge of sarcasm sprinkled into her reply, you luckily miss the flash of pity in her eyes when you finally look up at her.

 almost as if she knew.

 "well, i hope things get better for you."

"yeah, yeah." you wave off the topic. "but you said you needed me to drop off keys or something?" 

"ah, right!" her usual go-lucky smile making an appearance. "sawamura asked if he could borrow our gym after practice for the last couple days, but i have to promised to run some errands back at home. i was hoping you could swing by the club room after student council, and drop off the keys for me?" 

you bit back a laugh, trying to keep the best poker face you could- as the pleading expression on her face looked like something out of a cartoon. "i don't know…"

"oh my goodness, please! i already promised sawamura, and it's already hard enough, trying to get all the members to get to practice and-" 

you grab her shoulders, halting the blubbering, and frantic look in her eyes. "calm down, yui! i was only joking- of course i will."

…

rain was something tooru despised. 

his complaints were one of a child, as it ruined his hair. it made everything sticky, and smell like wet dog. being out too long would make him sick, and if there was too much of it- it would turn into a storm. it could turn into a hurricane. or even a typhoon. 

and it's honestly ironic, even as you hold your bag over your head. your rubber sneakers hitting the mud and pavement, rushing to get under the roof of the club building. much to your luck, the reminiscent squeak of rubber isn't heard, as the gym doors were shut. letting out a huff, the sheer amount of relief that pours over you when the familiar screech of the metal door opens is a blessing. 

"hey! you made it-- oh my gosh, get inside!" he cuts off his warm greeting, as he grabs your wrist, pulling you into the room before the door slams behind you. "holy crap, you're drenched."

"thanks for stating the obvious, daichi." you snarkily remark, but still giving him a small smile. 

you knew daichi for a lot of reasons. being the karasuno boys' volleyball captain, he's been noted as one of dependability. a solid rock in a foundation, and everything the student body says about him is relatively positive. 

but even as a third year, you can still remember his shenanigans like it was yesterday. how he dashed past you whilst racing the basketball team's captain, and accidentally hitting the fire alarm. you couldn't even count how many times he'd had a run in with the principal's toupee. 

but even now, in his plain tee and black shorts-- there's this responsible look in his eyes. a quality only built up by experience, and you mentally applaud him. especially when you learn the sheer amount of siblings he had. 

"here's the keys for the other gym." you drop the keys into his open palm.

"ah, thanks." a hand moves to the back of his neck, a tell tale sign of his nervousness. "but i thought michimiya was dropping these off."

"yui had something to do today, so she asked me to. hope you don't mind it being me instead of your girlfriend." 

his eyes widen, beginning to frantically shake his hands in front of him. "n-no! that's not what i meant at all! she's not even my girlfriend, i-" he cuts himself off at the sound of your laugh, as you clutch a palm on your mouth. a grin peaks through his annoyance. "hey! why're you laughing so bad?"

"i'm sorry but what the heck is this?" you push past him to point at the poster at the far right corner of the room.

"bikini girls? really?"

the blush that comes over his face is absolutely hilarious. "t-that was-!"

"man, who knew sawamura daichi, captain of the volleyball club was a boob man! wait until yui hears about this!" you almost double over in laughter, watching steam puff out of daichi's ears in utter embarrassment. 

"don't you have somewhere to be?" he tries to divert the subject, only to hear a crack of thunder beat you to a response. the onslaught of rain beginning to hit the window panes at full force, and the lights flickering. "... nevermind." 

"i meant to ask, is it okay if i'm in here?" looking down, you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "this is the boys' club room after all." 

unfortunately for daichi, the implication doesn't go over his head. and the fact that you're confused about why his face seems to flush a further shade of red seems to seal the deal.

that man, does daichi hates being a guy right now. 

his initial intent was to simply shield you from the rain. the simple connection that he didn't want you to get further drenched, and fall sick because of the favor he asked for. but now?

he feels guilty when his eyes draw lower, the tune of your laughter and friendly banter playing like background music. he swallows at the translucency of your uniforms while dress shirt. how the faint blue shape of your bra cups your chest, and how the damp fabric seems to cling to your skin. the jealousy of the water droplets that run down your neck and into the divet of your collarbones. 

you're in the boys' volleyball club room right now. clothes and gym bags strewn about, the smell of teenage cologne, and all alone. 

"t-the rest of the club is in the gym with the coaches." daichi stutters, before coughing to clear his throat. "we can just wait until it lightens up and make a dash for it." 

"sounds like a plan! how's tobio doing with sho-- achoo!" you start, only to sneeze mid way. 

"crap, your clothes are soaked from the rain." you hurry to wipe your nose, as daichi hands a set of spare clothes toward you. "here."

you raise an eyebrow. "why do you have another set of gym clothes?"

"after hinata puked at our seijoh game, i'm not taking any more chances-- oh shit, wait!" he explains, before his eyes widen at your fingers undoing your blouse buttons, and hurriedly turning the other direction. 

you giggle at his panic stricken face, before proceeding to peel the dampened cloth off your body, and your mind still processing the fact he had to have mentioned seijoh. but then a voice chimes in from the back of your head, crying out desperately. 

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would." 

it's truly unfortunate. and you genuinely sorry for daichi, as you dig into the pocket of your soaked blazer, and pressing the lone button on the stop watch. the pattering of the droplets against the window, halting in its path. the swirl of winds silencing, and the thunder strike through the air, simply pausing at your fingertips. 

you're not stupid. you knew where daichi's eyes trailed, especially as you drop your underwear and skirt to the floor, altogether. stepping out of the clothes and bounding toward the captain, sinking to your knees, and staring up at the frozen crimson tint of his face. 

you knew the moment you were pulled into this room, that this was a bad idea. and right then and there, your entire consciousness told you that this was your chance to be a good person. 

… but was tooru ever a good person? 

you let out a small gasp as you grab at his clothed bulge, already half hard through the cloth of his shorts. feeling yourself salivate, you begin to slowly pump. pawing at his size, coaxing him into a full erection. 

and honestly, you wonder what would go through daichi's head right now. what would this man think as you pulled down his athletic wear, and how you stared at him in pure wonder. what would he do when his cock lewdly slaps against his abdomen, and falls shy of your lips? what would he do when you swirl your tongue over hips tip, lapping up the weeping cry of arousal, and savoring his taste? taking him deeper, peering back up through fogging vision, as your struggle, and choke around him. coating him in spit, saliva dripping down your chin, and making an utter mess. 

you coo at how responsive he is, even when unconscious. the frozen look of his face is one of guilt, but the tips of his ears are the same shade of his cock. you wish to tell him that it's alright, as you were definitely more of a sinner than him. popping off of his length and heaving a full breath, you stand. cupping his face by the cheek, and gently nudging his face to meet yours. 

"sorry." your whisper fans hotly against his face, as you continue. moving his limbs almost like a doll, laying him against the floor, and having your legs on either side of his hips. 

but if you were going to have fun, it's only fair you'd share it. 

the thunder strikes far from where you are, and the heavy breeze makes the windows wobble. but daichi doesn't seem to care- as everything hits him like a truck. 

the slick of your mouth, and the choke of your throat. the pumps of your soft hand against his shaft- and how you brutally sink your weeping cunt onto him. the ungiving clench and sheer heat of your pussy had his hands flying to your hips. his eyes widening at the sight of your hands against his chest. fucking yourself onto his cock, moaning his name like a mantra, and lust blown gaze staring right back at him- his eyes roll back as everything becomes too much. 

he cums. rope upon rope of milky essence spills from him, legs shaking and earth shattering. daichi almost screams, as the pleasure is borderline painful. the sight of you was too much to handle, and undoubtedly made him double over. "ah shit-!"

daichi doesn't know how you paused time once again, just to make sure he doesn't cum inside you. he doesn't know how quickly you dropped to your knees, mouth wide open, and how he releases down your throat. how you milk every single drop out of him before freezing the world at will. 

all daichi knows is confusion and the fuzziness his head pounds with. when suddenly, you're not on top of him anymore. his form is turned, facing the wall again. shaky legs, and not laid against the floor. 

"daichi? are you okay?" you call out. 

he coughs, turning toward you. "y-yeah…" his confusion etching even more as you're wearing his spare shirt, still in your skirt, and a tilted head facing him. "... i think."

you laugh, hitting his shoulder playfully. "goodness, does the lightning scare you so bad? you look like someone just sucked the soul outta ya!" 

he thinks you don't know a thing. the sight of your walls sucking him in fresh in his mind makes heat, and guilt simultaneously pool at his gut. he thinks you're the most innocent soul on earth when you lean in toward him, pressing your palm on his forehead, and giving him an eyeful that makes his breath hitch, before taking a step back. 

"don't get sick on me now, captain. you take care of everyone else, so who's going to take care of you?" you tell him off with a wink, only for him to hum an incoherent response, and his mind still buzzing. 

was that all his imagination? 

"oh look! it's lightening up!" you snap him out of his train of thought when you smile, grabbing his hand, pulling him forward. "let's make a run for it!" 

"w-wait!" he stops your other hand from turning the door knob. 

you turn toward him, eyebrows raised. "huh?"

it definitely catches you off guard as daichi leans in to look into your eyes. you feel your heart pound in your ears when you stare back. the caramel shade of his skin and the dark pupils trying to analyze you- trying to figure you out. "d-daichi?" you stutter out. 

"a-ah… sorry." he pulls back before muttering something under his breath. something about it feeling real. 

and it almost hurts as you facade innocence, letting go of his hand and racing toward karasuno's second gym. bags over your heads as you pound against the door, and laugh heartily as kageyama messes up a serve in your presence. it almost hurts as your cunt weeps arousal, and ruins your new, navy blue set of panties. 

because it's ironic at how much you told tooru how much you loved the rain. how fun it was as a child to jump into puddles, and dance. how the pattering felt like the knock on a door and a call out to play. how easily rain covered for all the moans that daichi never got to hear when you came around him, walls creaming him in your slick. how the wind howls loudly so that no one could hear you babble your gratitude, and at how thankful you were. and how rain was the best excuse for your tears. the most viable excuse of why your face was an utter mess the other day. 

and how it seemed to rain the same day tooru broke your heart in two. 

[stardew-vxlley]

you’re cute when you’re jealous

summary: the stardew valley fair is in town! what happens when shane notices a tourist flirting with you? 

pairing: shane x farmer

word count: 2k 

warnings: like, a single swear word

requested by: @pale-skies-is-a-raccoon

Dear Farmer [Y/N], 

One week from today, we are holding the Stardew Valley Fair in the town square! It’s the biggest event of the year, drawing people from all across the country to our humble town. If you’d like, you can set up a grange display for the event. Just bring a few items that best showcase your talents. You’ll be judged on the quality and diversity of your display. It starts at nine, don’t miss it! 

-Mayor Lewis 

The day was finally here. You had been looking forward to the Stardew Valley Fair all week ever since Lewis had put the notice in your mailbox, taking extra time and preparation to make sure all of your items were the highest quality and freshness. You were awake before your alarm, buzzing around the farmhouse like a bumblebee on the first day of spring. You knew the fair didn’t start until nine, but you were so jittery with excitement that you just couldn’t sleep. 

Humming and singing mindlessly to your farm animals as you fed them and collected their products, you inspected each egg and each pail of milk to see if you needed to hang on to any of them as a backup. As you watered your crops, you had a delightful conversation about the fair with the scarecrow (even though it was a little one-sided). 

And then nine o’clock arrived. You excitedly hefted your crate of perfect quality items onto your hip, and made your way into town. The reason you were so excited was because this was your first fair, the first time seeing people from the outside since you left home. It was going to be a breath of fresh air. 

“Hey there, farmer!” Mayor Lewis called from the center of the town square. “I’ve got your grange display ready to go over here.” 

“Lewis, this is incredible!” you said in awe, looking at all the different colored stalls and decorations. “Are those carnival games?” 

“Indeed they are,” he chuckled, helping you with your crate. “Once the display contest is judged, you can go ahead and enjoy the rest of the fair.” 

“I can’t wait,” you said, beginning to take your items out and meticulously place them into the wooden display box. “Oh, have you seen Shane anywhere? I wanted to snag him before the judging.” 

Lewis scratched his chin, looking around. “I think I may have seen him over by the petting zoo.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like somewhere he’d be,” you said with a delighted laugh. “Thank you, Mayor!” 

Lewis ambled off to see to the other contestants, leaving you alone to finish your display. You placed the last few finishing touches and adjustments, and stood back to admire your handiwork. It was a beautiful display. You swelled with pride as you dusted your palms off on your overalls, tilting your straw hat back.

“That’s one fine looking display of stuff,” an unfamiliar voice sounded behind you. 

Startled, you turned your chin over your shoulder with eyebrows raised. There was a young man standing a few feet away from you, hands on his hips as he surveyed your work. 

“This stuff is months of hard work,” you said firmly, facing him. 

He chuckled and held up his hands in defense. “Alright, my apologies. It looks really good, though.” 

“Thank you,” you said, and you stuck your hand out. “I’m [Y/N]. I own a farm up the road.” 

“You own a whole farm?” he asked incredulously as he shook your hand. “All by yourself?” 

“Yep,” you replied proudly, gesturing to your display. “All of this is made by yours truly.” 

“Wow,” he breathed, truly impressed. “I’m Eric, I live in Zuzu City with my grandmother. I used to come to the fair every year when I was little, but it’s been harder and harder for her to travel. This is my first time coming by myself.” 

“Well, we’re certainly glad you could make it this year,” you said with a grin, “this is my first year, too. I moved onto the farm earlier in the spring.” 

“You look like you’ve done pretty good for yourself,” Eric noted, moving closer to study the contents of your grange display. “So uh, are you allowed to go get food or something? I saw someone selling corndogs around here somewhere--do you want to grab one?” 

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you to ask, but I really should stay put until after the contest ends,” you apologized. “I don’t want to miss out on winning.” 

Eric laughed into a nod and glanced around. “Well, hopefully I see you before the fair is over. It would be really nice to talk to you again.” 

An unsuspecting blush crept into your cheeks as you bobbed your head in a hasty agreement. “Absolutely--now go enjoy the fair!” 

You watched him walk away towards the corndog cart and released the breath of air you had been holding. With so little people in Pelican Town, you weren’t used to someone flirting with you so outright. Sure, Elliot read you a sonnet a couple of times and Sam shared his cold, leftover pizza with you on a few occasions, but you just wrote that off as them being friendly. Shane wasn’t even that eloquent with flirting and he was your boyfriend--

You slapped your hand to your forehead. Shit, you forgot all about finding him before the contest started! But as you started towards the petting zoo, Mayor Lewis appeared out of thin air in front of you, his giant mustache blocking your view. 

“Are you ready for the contest?” he asked, clapping his hands together. 

“Yeah, can I just--” you started, but he pushed right past you. 

“Fantastic! Alright, just step up beside your display, and I’ll get everyone’s attention.” 

With a defeated sigh, you stood next to your display and bit your lip. Lewis stood on a wooden crate and clapped his hands again, gathering a crowd of fair-goers and townspeople. You searched the faces for Shane, and saw him standing beside Marnie with Jas on his shoulders. His eyes lit up as you locked gazes, and a smile broke out across your face as you twiddled a wave at them. 

“I will now begin the judging!” Lewis announced, and began walking down the row of displays, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He came to a stop in front of yours and an audible “Wow” escaped him. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he winked at you, moving on to the last display. When he was finished, he returned to the stack of crates and read off a small piece of paper. 

“And this year’s first place winner of the grange display is--drumroll please,” Lewis declared, and the sound of everyone rhythmically patting their thighs in an acoustic drumroll echoed through the town square. “--[Y/N]! With a whopping 90 points!” 

The cheers were deafening as you clapped excitedly while jumping up and down. Lewis came back over and handed you a stack of Star Tokens. “Here is your prize--1,000 tokens. Spend them wisely!” 

The crowd dispersed as the contest ended, leaving you to pack up your items in the crate. 

“That was amazing!” you heard Shane’s voice say, and you turned around with a grin. He still had Jas on his shoulders, who was pumping her tiny fists in the air in excitement. “Your display was the best babe, by far.” 

You blushed. “Thank you, that really means a lot to me.” 

Shane set Jas down and you handed her some of your tokens. “Here,” you whispered to her. “I couldn’t possibly spend all of these by myself--do you think you could help me out?” 

Her eyes lit up as she graciously took the tokens and made a beeline for the prize counter. You straightened up and turned to Shane, who pulled you in for a tight embrace. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured in your ear, sending tingles down your spine. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you said as you gestured to the large, perfect egg nestled in the crate. “I almost don’t want to cook that egg, it's so perfect.” 

Shane laughed, letting you go. “I think you would’ve been just fine without me. And that egg is going to make some delicious scrambled eggs tomorrow morning.” 

“Will you cook them for me?” you asked suggestively, waggling your eyebrows at him. Now it was his turn to blush. He opened his mouth to reply, but someone interrupted him. 

“Hey!” Eric called out, jogging toward you. “That was awesome! In all my years of coming here, I’ve never seen such an amazing win. Congratulations!” 

“Thanks,” you chuckled, but you felt Shane tense up beside you. “Shane, this is Eric. He’s from Zuzu City.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Shane stiffly said, shaking Eric’s hand. 

“I know this is a lot to ask, but I really want something to take back to the city with me,” Eric said to you, “and I wasn’t good enough at the carnival games to win a prize. Would you mind me taking something from your display? I would pay you for it!” 

“It’s no problem at all,” you grinned, stepping back to allow him to look inside the crate. “I would be honored. And you don’t have to pay me.” 

“Awesome!” Eric said excitedly, and knelt in front of the crate. “What about this one, is this okay?” He held up your prized egg, the one Shane had worked so hard to help you with. 

“No!” you said a little too quickly, snatching it from his hands. “Sorry...this one is special.” 

“Oh, okay,” he sighed, disappointed. “What about this?” He held up a jar of artisanal goat cheese. 

“That one is all yours,” you said, holding the egg close to you. 

“Cool.” Eric got to his feet and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, as if trying to find the right words to say. “Hey, so--I was wondering something...if you’re ever in Zuzu City, you should come visit me.” 

Before you could politely turn him down and explain you were already seeing someone, Shane protectively stood front of you and crossed his arms. “Sorry, pal, not gonna happen.” 

“Shane,” you quietly protested, noticing Eric’s crestfallen face. “I’m sorry, Eric--you’re a nice guy, but I’m already dating someone.” 

Eric’s eyes bounced back and forth between you and Shane, until realization dawned on him. “Oh,” he said softly. “Right.” 

“It was really good to meet you, though!” you reassured him. “I hope you and your grandmother enjoy the goat cheese.” 

He rolled the jar in his hands and smiled. “Yeah, I think we will. Thank you, [Y/N].” He waved, and started walking away towards the entrance. As Shane put an arm around your shoulders, Eric looked back at the two of you together. “Hey, buddy--you’re a lucky guy.” 

“I know,” Shane called back, and smiled down at you. Once Eric was out of sight, you reached over and playfully punched him in the arm. 

“You were so mean!” you teased. “He didn’t know--he was just trying to be friendly.” 

“Oh, he knew,” Shane said with narrowed eyes. 

“And how do you know that?” you prodded, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m a guy,” he simply replied. 

You suppressed a giggle at his surprisingly simple answer, standing up on your tip-toes to place a tender kiss to his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

Shane rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t jealous, I was protective.” 

“Either way, it was cute. Maybe I’ll ask Elliot to read me some poetry in front of you so I can see it again.” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” he whined. “I’m glad you didn’t let him take the egg.” 

“Me too,” you smiled, slipping your hand into his and leading him towards the carnival games. “Still promise to scramble it up for me in the morning?” 

“Is that an invitation to stay the night?” 

You stopped to answer his question with a long, passionate kiss. When you broke apart breathlessly, he was speechless for a moment. “Is that a good enough answer for you?”  you asked, and he nodded happily. The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon winning prizes and eating fair food, sharing kisses and falling deeper and deeper in love. 

[takingcourage]

A Stroke of Serendipity

Pairing: Luke Harper x MC

Word Count: 1,850

Rating/Warnings: General; no warnings

Summary: During her first term at university, Helena discovers that there’s more to her housemate than meets the eye. 

Note: I'm not usually one to write AUs, but @choicesficwriterscreations​ ’s post about Silly Love Stories crossed my dash and I couldn’t resist trying a few. This story was written to fulfill the the prompt of "Roommates/Neighbor,” and takes place in a modern setting.

Despite the chill in the air, it was unseasonably warm for November. For the first day in weeks, the lawn was cluttered with students choosing to linger in the sunlight for just a bit longer than necessary before heading inside for their lectures. 

Making her way past the crowds, Helena unlocked her bike and mounted, finding equilibrium easily. She felt a tinge of shame with the memory of how daunting the task had seemed just weeks before. Keeping her coat out of the spokes and her backpack balanced had presented an unexpected challenge at the start of the term, and it had earned her more than one pitying glance from passersby.

Pumping the pedals, she picked up enough speed to glide over several lengths of sidewalk. Fellow students blurred as she moved past, their forms merging with her thoughts before they faded altogether, consumed by her ever-growing list of assignments.

When her estranged father had insisted on paying her way through university, she’d jumped at the opportunity -- goodness knew she didn’t want to work the till at Morrisons forever. At first, Vincent’s offer had seemed too good to be true. Nearing the end of her first term, however, reality was stripping away much of the mystique.

She gripped the handlebars a little tighter.

Being a student again was hard. Sharing a house with her brother and his roommates meant that the transition had been a little smoother, but being a first-year student in her twenties was complicated. Life away from Grovershire was complicated. Life without her mother was complicated... 

How she wished sometimes that life could be simple again.

Helena pushed herself through the next turn, traveling quickly enough for the wind to leave a pleasant sting behind on her rosy cheeks.

At this time of the afternoon, their street was still quiet. Students weren’t back from classes, and most everyone else wouldn’t return home from work until evening. Helena coasted up to the curb, taking a quick glance at their windows in an effort to determine who might be home this early in the day. For all appearances, she had the house to herself.

With a sigh that had more to do with relief than exertion, she put her bike away and unlocked the side door. Time alone would be welcome.

As the doorknob clicked open, the strains of a violin floating through dispelled any notion of solitude, though her momentary disappointment was soon replaced by curiosity. Was someone playing Tosca?

She halted briefly, shaking off her deja vu to find eager curiosity in its wake. Slipping her shoes onto the mat, she proceeded up the stairs toward the lounge. In spite of her quiet footfalls, the music ceased as soon as she hit the first creak.

“Don’t stop!” she called out, dismay lending her a boldness she rarely showed.

After a pause, the aria resumed with steady conviction.

It wasn't her stepbrother or Annabelle, of that she was certain. She might not have learned everything there was to know about Edmund in the past year, but she did know that guitar was the only instrument he dabbled in. She was equally sure that the closet she and Annabelle shared didn’t house a violin case either. Ernest had rushed home the night before to deal with family matters, which left her with only one possible conclusion: Luke. 

He was the roommate she knew the least, always so busy between his studies and his time in the lab that no one in the house saw very much of him. With a quirk of her lips, she decided it was entirely possible he could be a proficient musician without her knowing.

Her suspicions were confirmed as soon as she crested the stairs.

Violin still snug beneath his chin, he turned to face her slowly. Light streamed in from the window behind him, and Helena couldn’t help feeling that she’d stumbled upon something almost divine. Somewhere between the quality of the music and the intensity in his brow, she found herself enchanted. 

She’d known he was attractive: that much had been obvious since the day she’d met him at her father’s home some months before. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his eyes were a mystery she’d been trying to puzzle out since their first meeting. Sometimes, they were honeyed gold; others, they seemed impossibly green. As she watched him now, they fell closed in concentration. 

Helena’s breath caught before the final strains had begun to fade.

"I must have lost track of the time,” he started, lowering the instrument to his side as he addressed her. “I apologize."

"I'm back early.” She tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “The fire alarm went off in our building, and after twenty minutes on the lawn they decided to send us all home." She tried not to draw attention to the fact that her eyes kept drifting toward his long, elegant fingers as he worked to secure the violin in its case. 

It had been months since they’d met: why wasn’t she used to the sight of him yet?

“I imagine you’ll be grateful for the time to study.”

Raising her eyes from the floor, she met his tentative smile with one of her own. “I am,” she agreed, shrugging her bag into the nearest chair. Though her studies were nothing rigorous compared to his own, she found herself grateful that he recognized her kindred spirit.

The click of the case snapped her back to reality. “Well, I won’t bother you."

With an accommodating nod, she turned away from him and toward the hall, but her mind lagged behind. Somehow, going upstairs to study wasn’t quite as appealing a prospect as it had been mere minutes before. "Actually, I think I’m going to make some coffee first,” she rushed before she could lose her nerve. “Would you want any if I did?"

"I'd like that."

"So," she began, attempting to stoke the conversation as she measured out the scoops of grounds. Somewhere between the second and third spoonful, she started to feel a little mischievous. "Do you always perform your concerts solo, or is that right reserved for Puccini?"

"You know Tosca?" he inquired, following her into the kitchen.

She smirked at the incredulity in his tone. “Not what you’d expect from a shopgirl from Grovershire, hmm?”

His face froze, and she immediately regretted the jest. “I didn’t mean to offend--”

“I'm joking. My mother loved listening to operas. I think I'd heard more arias by the time I started primary school than most of my classmates did by Year 10. There was always music playing somewhere in our flat."

“Ours too.”

They shared another small smile that left her feeling like the roof had opened and the sun was shining into their modest kitchen with full force.

“To answer your question...” he continued. “No, others suffered through my performances for years. Growing up, I think my family was sometimes sick of how much I played, though I always wondered if they hadn’t brought it on themselves by putting me in lessons. No one here signed on to hear it at all hours, so I mostly play when I’m alone.”

“I’m sorry I intruded, then.”

“I don’t mind. It was rather nice to have someone listen for a while.”  

“Maybe you’ll play again for me sometime?”

“I’d like that very much.” He gave a quiet laugh, and she felt heat rush over the fullness of her cheeks.

Hiding her blush, she put the cabinet door between them and began peering onto the shelf for her favorite mug. Though she’d lived in this house for several weeks, this was the first time she’d spent more than a couple of minutes alone with Luke.

Not the first time you’ve wanted to, her conscience reminded, and she could feel the warmth returning to her cheeks with further thoughts of him. The man was driven and intelligent, studying biology on scholarship with the intent of becoming a veterinary surgeon. He was quiet, but had shown himself to be exceptionally generous and kind. If she wasn’t careful, the intrigue that had been building since they’d met could easily develop into full-blown infatuation.

“Do you play any instruments?” he broke in, handing her one of the spoons he'd withdrawn from a nearby drawer.

“Piano, but not in a very long time. Father doesn't have one, and we sold mum's a few years ago to pay for treatments."

As the reservoir bubbled noisily, she darted instinctively to the fridge, arm extended to retrieve the sugar bowl from the top. Luke beat her there, his height making short work of the task. Again, her attention was drawn to the way his long fingers splayed over the object. They were unmistakably musician’s hands: it was a wonder she’d never noticed it before.

“Thank you,” she intoned, wishing that her voice didn't sound quite so breathless.

“You’re welcome.” He placed the sugar on the countertop before stepping aside. “I’m sorry; I'm sure you must miss it.”

It took a moment for her to realize that he was still talking about playing piano.

“I wouldn't have much time for it now," she told him with a shrug, moving back to the coffee machine to pour them each a mug of the steaming liquid.

“My brother used to play. Mother keeps the piano in the front room in case he comes round, but he hasn't done anything with it in years.” He fell quiet for a moment, considering. “If I asked, I think she'd be willing to part with it for the next four years. There'd be room for it on that wall, next to the bookshelf." He indicated the space with his free hand.

Helena took a sip of coffee to disguise the fact that his offer had rendered her speechless. Fortunately, the shock of caffeine was just enough to restore her senses. “You’re very accommodating, Luke Harper. Quite the gentleman.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” Hoping to prove her sincerity, she met his eyes, green with a vibrance that made her forget it was the middle of autumn. “I’m not planning to hold you to it, but I appreciate the offer.”

"It's no bother. Besides, I think she'd be glad to know it was being used." His voice lowered as he studied her face. “Would you play if if I brought it over?”

Helena's throat thickened. Much as she'd craved that next taste of coffee, it would be impossible to swallow now. As it was, she could barely manage a nod in response to his question.

Luke beamed, a wide, guileless smile that left her feeling as if her insides had been scooped out and replaced by the contents of her mug. "I'll ask when I talk to her Sunday.”

She was still fighting back the threat of tears when Edmund burst through the door, shattering the stillness that had descended between them. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to mind the interruption overmuch. 

Somehow, the last twenty minutes had felt more like home than anything since she’d moved in. As she exchanged one final smile with Luke before her brother joined them, she knew it wouldn’t be a foreign feeling for long. 

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Sugar Plum Fairy - Spencer Reid

“Okay, carefully put the body on the table...Yeah, that’s perfect. Okay, thank you for your work.” I smiled briefly at the policeman. “I don’t know the details, but I heard this one is top priority. Can you finish it today?” he asked, making me grin even wider. “Of course! My colleagues were very diligent, so today I have only this one left. Even better, I’m all alone here, so my efficiency will sky-rocket.” I explain, getting a quick look at the cadaver on the table. “Very well, we will  go now. Take care.” the other policeman nodded his head at me, before they both left the room, and now I was alone in the whole building. “Yes, finally!” I fist-pumped the air. “Time to listen to AC/DC and cut this bitch up.” I rubbed my hands together, putting the music at max volume around the lab, no longer having to listen to music with my headphones on.

The Y-Incision went by with no problem, then the removal and weighting of the organs was just as smooth, and now I started searching the stomach contents, when the phone started ringing in my lab coat.

“Cutiepie is calling. Do you want to take this call, or hang up?” my phone robot asked. “Answer the call.” I vocally activated it and carefully put the gaming headphones on, seeing as they have a microphone attached, so I could speak while also working. “Uhm...Can you turn down the music, please?” Spencer asked softly, making me chuckle. “Oh, yes, sorry about that, I forgot about it...There, all good. So how is my lovey dovey Sugar Plum Fairy doing?” I asked in a sweet voice, which only earned silence on his end, and some giggles and teasing from the background, making me drop my scalpel in shock. “Y-You’re...On speaker...” Spencer managed to say, and I could already imagine his flustered face. “...Oh my God, Spencer, I’m so sorry...You called me from your private number, I didn’t think you’d call me from work...I’m so so so sorry, Spencer!” I spoke frantically, only to hear a tired sigh. “It’s...It’s fine...You’re right, I called you from the wrong phone, it’s my fault. Anyway, I called because that body that was brought over to your work place is a key piece of our latest case. Can you tell me anything out of the ordinary so far?” he asked in a more formal voice. “...Sometimes it’s weirdly difficult not to call you some cutesy nickname, Spence. I’m at the 3rd stage of the autopsy, and the only out of the ordinary thing is how hilarious her tits are hanging to the side...Uhm...Pretend you didn’t hear that...” I facepalmed internally, realising how stupid I was. “Should I call in an hour or so?” he tried to spare both of us the embarrassment, before I gasped in realisation. “No, wait, hold up a second, I think I’m on to something...On her waist, she seems to have an epidermis tattoo...But the thing is...This epidermis tattoo is a shade different from her actual skin colour. I don’t know who did this, but they traced the actual tattoo perfectly, which means I can easily trace it on a paper and send you a picture, maybe it will help you.” I explained, taking off my gloves and started drawing the tattoo on the paper, quickly taking a picture of it and sending it to Spencer. “I tend to forget how smooth and nicely you can draw. This is spot on, I’m sure Garcia can find out about this. Thank you, Y/N, you’re the best.” his voice was sweeter than sugar, and I could already feel my cheeks burning up. “Always happy to help. Do you want to stay on the phone while I look around the stomach contents, or should I call you when I find anything interesting?” I asked, putting a new pair of gloves on. “I...have a few minutes free to hear your voice. Talk to me, I missed you.” he spoke gently, as I opened the stomach. “Well...I missed you too, sweetheart. Wait, I’m not still on speaker, right? I don’t want to embarrass you...Again...” I muttered, biting my lip. “No, darling, it’s okay, nobody’s around, they’re looking for the tattoo.” he explained, making me sigh in relief. “Good, good...I hope we get to spend some quality time soon. Until then, I suppose I’ll have to indulge in my unhealthy obsession with binge-playing video games. Remember my 20 hour speed-run of Diablo 2?” I laughed, taking out a sort of cloth neatly folded from the stomach. “Please don’t do that again. You slept for 16 hours after that.” he sighed in amusement and worry. “Spence...I think I found something...” I muttered, carefully taking the paper and putting it on a different glass dish, where I carefully opened it with the help of tweezers. “What is it?!” he asked quickly, filled with curiosity. “Uhmm...Darling...This looks like an ominous death threat and a meeting arrangement...A-And the same tattoo design is drawn here...I’ve had my fair share of creepy encounters in my life, but this tops it all, I think. She was forced to swallow this paper...That means they knew she was going to be discovered and used for an autopsy...But who is supposed to see this...?” I rant my ideas, while Spencer was silent, and yet, there was a dark atmosphere taking over the both of us. “Spencer...?” I asked in a soft voice, feeling anxious. “I think you should get out of there...Now.” Spencer spoke seriously, but just as he said that, somewhere outside my lab, I could hear a very faint sound. “Spencer...I-I think there’s someone here...And I don’t think they’re nice people. I have nowhere to hide or escape. What should I do?” I asked in a shushed voice, not sure what to do. “Hide the paper back in the stomach and pretend you don’t know anything. We’ll be coming for you shortly...Please, please, please, Y/N, stay safe. I can’t stand the idea of you...I...I can’t even say it. Also...Don’t forget what we talked about before.” his voice was restless as I could hear him talking to his co-workers. “Honey...I’ll put you on mute, just in case something happens. You can hear what’s being spoken, but nobody will hear what you say, so you can discuss with your colleagues.” I explain, biting my lip. “Y/N...I love you. Please be safe.” I heard his worried voice, as sweet as usual, making me smile even despite the fear I harboured in my heart. “I love you too, darling.” I muttered, before muting the phone and putting it in my lab pocket.

I put the headphones around my neck as to not arouse too much suspicion, anxiety surging through my veins, until finally, the door was kicked open, revealing a huge, burly man, smirking down at me...So here I had to start acting.

“U-Uhmm...H-Hello...?” I asked, my voice trembling with fear, not able to look up at him. “Ahh, who’d have thought! Such a lil’ missy taking care of my girlfriend’s dead body! That’s perfect, I wouldn’t have wanted some sleezy ol’ man touching my girlfriend, or...Seeing her tits hanging to the side like that.” he grinned darkly, making me gulp in fear. “So, uhm...Wh-What can I do for you...?” I squeaked like a mouse, not able to look anywhere but down. “You could start by continuing the autopsy. I’m sure you’ll find something rather interesting that would be valuable for me.” he smirked, going to lean on a desk, motioning for me to continue my work. “O-Okay...” I nodded vigurously as I hurried to do my job.

Just then, his phone rang and speaking to it, I had to strain my hearing to try to pick up and understand what the person on the other end was saying, and thankfully enough, I could understand what they wanted to do:

Find the paper and kill the witness.

I started breathing heavily, biting my lip, feeling how my heart was going into tachycardia as I started having a flashback to a conversation I had with Spencer over a year ago, just a few months after we got together.

-----

“Honey, it’s going to be okay! You did nothing wrong! You did everything you could to survive and make sure the mission is a success. Please don’t blame yourself.” I hugged him tightly, stroking his hair to sooth him. “But Y/N...I killed someone. I did. With my own hands. I pulled the trigger. I robbed someone of their life...” he sighed, closing his eyes. “You killed someone who robbed so many others of their lives! He was a criminal, he would have tortured and killed again! Better dead than a fugitive! And think of the victims’ families, you gave them a certain kind of closure by catching the culprit!” I reassured him, kissing his forehead softly. “...You want to say something more, don’t you? Why are you holding back?” he asked, raising his gaze to look at me. “I...It’s...It’s selfish. You shouldn’t hear it now.” I looked down, biting my lip in shame. “Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know what’s on your heart. I want to know you.” he put his hands on my face as if I was the one needing reassurance. “Spencer...If anything...I-I want you to live...For me...No matter what happens out there, I don’t want to lose you. I know it’s dangerous out there, but...But...I don’t want the only person I’ve ever loved in my life to be taken away from me. I-I don’t know what I’d do...” I bit my lip harder, trying not to imagine such a fatalist scenario. “I understand...I feel the same way, Y/N. So why don’t we promise each other something? That way, you won’t have to be afraid of being selfish. We’ll both be selfish.” I could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. “What is it...?” I asked in a shushed voice, as he pulled me to his chest. “If anything happens, you have to live. If I promise to kill in self-defense, so should you. I don’t want to lose you either, but with the work I’m doing, no matter how private I am, I’m afraid that someone might come after you. So if anything happens...You know what to do. I know you swore a vow to never harm a living person, but that is thrown out of the window once that person tries to kill you. What do you say?” he spoke seriously, as I’ve never seen him before - He was still afraid, desperate. “Is that...Really...Okay? I’m not in the law enforcement...I don’t want to go to jail...” my bottom lip trembled in slight fear. “Self-defense will never get behind bars. Trust me, I know the laws inside out better than I know my own house.” he explained with a soft smile. “Okay...Okay, Spencer...We’ll be okay. We have to be.” I nodded, putting my forehead to his, staying like that for a while as we both tried to calm down.

-----

“Didja find anythin’, girly?” the man asked in a rough, aggressive voice, and I suddenly got an idea on how to escape. “Y-Yes, I found this paper, but it’s bloody and I have to clean it up to see if there’s anything on it. It won’t take too long, I promise.” I explained, showing him the paper with my tweezers, and he only nodded, watching me like a hawk.

I put a few water droplets with the pipette after neatly stretching the paper on a glass plate, putting it under the microscope and trying to catch the right angle where the ink would be rather stained from the blood and water I messed it up with.

“Uhm...There’s something written on it, but I can’t quite understand the writing. Normally, I’d take a picture and send it to the police where they have people special for that, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want that. Maybe you can understand the writing style?” I explain, stepping away from the microscope and motioning for him to step in. “Can’t even read some words...” he grumbled in anger as he bent down, looking around with the microscope, visibly frowning. “That’s such a messy writing...What the hell did he do with that hand of his...?” he groaned, as I slowly took out the scalpel from my lab coat. “Who knows...?” I ushered, plunging the scalpel in his carotid artery, hearing him scream bloody murder, as I screwed the blade around, doing more damage, his blood gushing away like a fountain. “Wh-What.......?” was the last thing he could stutter as he fell down on the ground and it took everything I had not to stand there and stare at what I had just done.

I have to save myself, not stare at life slipping out of him. I carefully changed the scalpel blade and put a knife in his hand, before leaving the room, only to be met by 2 goonies who were definitely of his gang.

“H-Hey, are you with that guy?! He just injured himself! I can’t save him by myself, you have to help me!” I cried out in desperation, praying they will be fooled by my act. “Ehhhh?! That idiot got himself injured? Let’s go check it out.” the one of the left patted the one on the right on the shoulder, before going to check it out. “It’s serious, we have to do something!” I said as I slowly took out the keys from my lab coat and locked them there, as they were too busy checking his body. “YOU BLOODY WHORE, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” they roared, as I ran out of there, to the elevator, continuing to lock all doors behind me, as I unmuted Spencer. “In 2 minutes I’ll be outside. Where are you?” I asked, panting, trying to keep myself down. “We’re almost there, don’t worry. As soon as you leave the building, go down the street to your left. We’re getting out of the car and walking towards you, so we won’t attract too much attention to you.” he explained, and I could only nod, barely remembering he can’t actually see it. “Don’t know how I won’t attract attention when I have blood all over me.” I mumbled, stepping out into the open. “Did he...?” he trailed on, not wanting to say it out loud. “Yeah...He’s dead. And I locked the 2 other goonies inside. I just hope there’s no one else.” I took a deep breath, rushing down the street, and thankfully enough, I could see a 2 people coming my way, one of them being my beautiful chestnut haired boyfriend.

Unfortunately, just as I thought everything was okay, I feel myself being grabbed from behind in a choke hold, something cold pressed to my temple - 

It was a gun.

As tears started welling up in my eyes and I could barely stop myself from shedding them, I could see Hotch extending his arm in front of Spencer, so he wouldn’t do anything stupid and that he’ll handle it.

All I could do was look at Spencer while my sight remained blurry and my body was trembling like a leaf -  I had no idea what to do, how to react, all I knew was that I was afraid and I had a scalpel in my pocket.

As Hotch tried to negotiate with the criminal, the man got pissed off, pushing me behind him as he started trashing his gun arm left and right.

That’s when I knew I had to act. I couldn’t have anyone accidentally or intentionally hurting my Spencer...

I threw my arms over his gun one from the side, pulling it backwards, away from the 2, one hand over the gun, while the other stabbed the man’s inner wrist, easily destroying the veins.

Thankfully, this gave Hotch the opportunity to shoot the man before he could do anything bad, and not before long...The enemy fell to the ground with an empty expression.

I quickly kicked the gun away, crouching down to make sure he’s really dead, and when I confirmed it, I got up, shakily stepping backwards, the scalpel falling from my hands as I tried to get myself back together.

“It’s over now, sweetheart. It’s over. You’re here, with me, nobody will hurt you again.” I felt Spencer hug me tightly, and the warmth and emotions behind it made me start crying from the shock, panic and fear that I felt. “I-I was so scared...” I managed to stammer over my words, as my lovely boyfriend put his hands on my face, tilting it up so I could see him, my eyes staring into his. “I know, darling, I know. We can go back home now, it’s okay.” he tried to reassure me, but Hotch came over. “Before you go home, I need you to tell us what you know from the autopsy. I’m sorry to stress you out after going through such a traumatic experience, but we need to catch the criminals.” the man said, and seeing Spencer frowning in protest, I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand. Let’s go. I’ll be okay.” I managed to mutter.

Spencer put his arm around me, kissing my temple as we went to his workplace, and sure, seeing his colleagues all at once was rather overwhelming, but my sweetheart easily handled everything and put a blanket over my shoulder, pulling me to his chest to calm me down, while I explained everything in detail.

While everyone was working on the case, two blonde girls that I found out were Penelope and J.J. and they were sweet enough to try to calm me down by chatting with me.

“So how did you and Spencer meet? You look so cute together!” Penelope asked, grinning from ear to ear. “A while ago, at a cafe. There were no empty seats and the waitress asked me if he could stay there, as he’s a regular, so of course, I said why not.” I smiled softly, holding his hand, our finger intertwining. “She was reading Lord Of The Rings, when she got a phone call from her boss and she got out her case files from the morgue and started explaining all the details.” he stroked my hair soothingly. “And then you took a look at the pictures and randomly started giving your theories and we managed to solve the case together.” I chuckled weakly, my smile growing wider. “Awwwwww, that’s so cute!!” she chirped. “When is the marriage?! Can I be a bridesmaid?!” she continued, making the both of us blush and hide our faces in embarrassment. “Garcia, be gentle with them! They’re soft!” J.J. grinned, nudging her with her elbow. “Who’d have thought that Genius Boy is such a Lover Boy? Sugar Plum Fairy~! And what’s her nickname? Now I’m curious!” Garcia leaned closer to us. “...Sleeping Beauty...I like to sleep...A lot...” I muttered, feeling my cheeks warmer than before. “And you like to be woken up with a kiss~?” she continued to tease us. “..........Yes.” I managed to whisper, hiding my face in the blanket. “When will I find someone as sweet as Lover Boy?! You’re just SO cute together!” she hyped us up, and we could only sigh and look at each other with a smile. “Okay, okay, we’ve done our job, let’s give them some privacy. We’ll come back to tell you when you can go home. Oh, by the way, Spencer...I’m pretty sure I heard them talk about giving you a week off or something. You’ve worked hard for us, you deserve it, especially now after everything you’ve been through.” J.J. smiled down at us, putting her arm around Garcia, guiding her fangirling self out of the office. “Well, hear that, I have vacation. Where do you want to go?” he kissed my lips gently, looking at me with a tender look. “We’ll think of something. The seaside, the mountains...We have time for everything.” I grinned softly, cuddling closer to him. “I love you, Spencer.” “Yeah, we have all the time in the world. I’m so glad you’re safe...I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but I’m so glad nothing happened to you. I love you so much, my Sleeping Beauty.” he kissed me once again, just as sweetly as before. “I would never leave my Sugar Plum Fairy alone.” I gazed at him lovingly, before settling for a comfortable silence, waiting to go home.

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 2, Ch. 2

PART 2: THE YEAR OF MISCHIEF AND SNEAKING AROUND Chapter 2 - A New Year

Nova

In the last week of August, the Weasleys and I met my mum in Diagon Alley just like my mum and Molly planned. We bought our books and got Pip his favorite treats. Charlie and I were drooling and pressing our hands on the window display of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

We then stopped at the café Tulip's mum owned just to find out that Tulip wasn't there but her mum told us that she would tell her to meet us on the Platform 9 ¾ on the 1st September. Molly also took Bill to get new robes as he grew quite a lot over the Summer and Charlie got Bill's old robes. His freckled cheeks turned pink as his mum told that in front of me and my mum but I didn't care.

—

On several occasions, Charlie got embarrassed as he talked about his home or his things, most belonging to Bill before him. I have never seen it as a bad thing that they didn't have as much money as some of the other Pure Blood families. My parents had quite a stock of gold in our Gringotts vault as a Curse Breaker and an Auror but what good did that do me if I didn't see them most of the year.

I would've done anything to have my mum or my dad at home as Molly stayed at home with Charlie and his siblings. Their house was also something that wasn't embarrassing at all. I liked the smell of wood and honeysuckle and I liked the fact that it was a bit cramped. You feel more like a family rather than in a big house.

—

When we got all of our things, my mum said goodbye to me as she had to hurry back to work. She gave me a big hug as tears gathered in her eyes. I knew she felt bad that she wouldn't be able to accompany me to the Station in a week's time and I knew she wanted more than anything to spend my last week out of Hogwarts with me but she couldn't get time off work.

That's why I returned to the Burrow with the Weasleys, something I really didn't mind. I couldn't deny that I missed my mum but being surrounded by such a loving family made me forget just how much I miss spending time with my parents.

On 1st September Molly took me, Bill, and Charlie to the Platform 9 ¾, accompanied by Percy, Fred, and George while Arthur stayed at home with Ron and Ginny as it was a Sunday.

She hugged her sons and wished them a great year at Hogwarts and then she looked at me.

“Oh, Nova dear, it was so nice to have you in our home.” She cupped my cheeks.

“Thank you for having me Molly, I had a great time.” I smiled.

“Have a good year, study hard, and take notes.” She stopped for a second. “Your mum told me to say that to you.” She winked at me. “And take care of my boys, will you? My heart is lighter knowing that they have you, especially Charlie.” She pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Mum!” Charlie frowned, embarrassed.

“Bill, you look after these two. Make sure they stay in line.” She hugged both, Bill and Charlie, again and gave them a soft kiss on the cheek.

We wanted to enter the train when I heard someone calling my name. It was Tulip who was looking all over for us in the crowd. Together we got on the train and found that Tonks and Penny already reserved a compartment for us.

We all hugged and I couldn't help but feel happy as we were all together again. Jae, the Gryffindor Charlie spent time with and spent more time with Tulip and Tonks than any of us by the end of our First Year, joined us for a second but couldn't stay as our compartment already had 6 seats taken.

Tulip started to explain what a mundane Summer she had as she was mostly helping her mum in her coffee shop but she didn't mind as she made quite a lot of money and was saving it for Zonko's Joke Shop next year when we are going to be allowed to go to Hogsmeade for the first time.

Tonks showed us all the scars Merlin gave her over the Summer and we were puzzled as to why her parents didn't use a charm to heal her hands. She admitted that she liked spending the time with the cat after all and that she kicked him off the bed one night as she didn't know he was there and felt sorry for him as he came back to cuddle.

She also told us that 2 out of 4 pranks she planned for her parents succeeded and that to her astonishment her parents still loved her.

Penny gave us a rather short version of her beach vacation as all of us sent her a confused letter when she sent us greetings from Brighton. She instead told us that mum taught her how to brew 3 new potions, 2 of which we won't learn in class for another year. She also told us how annoying her little sister was as she kept bombarding her with questions about Hogwarts and wanted to know when she could meet all of her friends.

It was fun to see the Sorting Ceremony from the House Tables instead of being sorted. Ravenclaw gained 4 new witches and 2 new wizards. Tulip and I couldn't help but reminisce about our Sorting Day and admitted that we don't miss it at all.

After the feast, we went to our dormitories, and much to Tulip and mine's surprise we knew exactly how to get to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Our room was still looking good and still had the best view of the entire castle.

A little before we went to bed, Professor Flitwick gathered us all in the Common Room, giving us our class schedules as tomorrow was Monday and the classes were ready to begin.

Our schedules this year were packed way more than the previous year where we only had 2, max 3 classes per day. Now we had at least 4 classes per day except 3 on Friday.

The schedule read:

Monday – Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology

Tuesday - Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, Double Charms, Astronomy at Midnight

Wednesday – Double Herbology, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic

Thursday – Transfiguration, Double Potions, History of Magic, Herbology, Astronomy at Midnight

Friday – Potions, Charms, Transfiguration

We had classes with the same Houses as last year and even though we knew that we had History of Magic, Tulip and I kind of hoped that the teachers would forget about it and we wouldn't have to go. That, of course, was not the case.

—

I decided that I wouldn't try out for the House Quidditch Team this year just yet. I still felt that I could use a bit of practice and I teased Charlie that I would let him have the Quidditch Cup this year as we would win every year after that with me on the team.

Charlie tried out for the Gryffindor Team but wasn't picked as the Quidditch Captain picked his little brother as Team's Seeker. He was pretty bummed out about it and we had to go to Hagrid's every day after school for almost a week so Hagrid could cheer him up by telling us stories about different creatures he encountered or owned at any point in his life.

Penny, of course, loved the fact that we had so much more school work and Potions 3 times per week made her heart pump faster.

Tonks however made me and Charlie question our prediction that she would wait until the end of the year to have a breakdown as she already refused to do her homework. She and Penny got into constant fights because Penny couldn't understand how she doesn't care about homework one bit and Tonks didn't understand why she cared so much about it.

I did pretty well and kept up with most of my schoolwork. Penny only had to help me with one of my Potions essays and Tulip and I always did Astronomy homework immediately after class. It did mean that we stayed up almost all night since Astronomy classes were at Midnight but we enjoyed each other's company and the little chats we had together as we didn't have the opportunity to spend that much time alone outside of class.

She was sneaking around the Castle with Tonks and Jae most of the days as I spent my time with either Penny or Charlie by the Lake, at Hagrid's, in the Owlery with Pip, or in the Courtyard, which was still my favorite place to draw.

It seemed that Charlie rarely left Hagrid's and I am sure he wouldn't even do that if it wasn't for me and he wanted to spend time with me. As Second Years, we were allowed to bring our own brooms to school and when the weather was nice Charlie liked to practice his flying by the Lake, me throwing a ball for him to catch.

—

One Tuesday it so happened that we had a free period when we were supposed to have Herbology. Apparently, one of the Forth Years accidentally angered a plant and it trapped them in the Herbology classroom resulting in our class being rescheduled for next week. As Tulip and I wandered around the Castle, we decided to see what was so bad about the girl's bathroom on the Second Floor.

See, the day before, we heard a couple of Slytherin girls from the year above us say that they are never going in there again and that they wouldn't wish it upon their worst enemy to get locked in there and that said a lot about Slytherins.

My school bag was unusually heavy that day but I didn't pay attention to it as I was sure that I misread the schedule and put an extra book in there.

When we got to the bathroom it looked quite normal to us. We knocked and nothing happened. We peeked inside and it didn't smell bad or seem in any way out of the ordinary.

We took a deep breath and went in, eyes closed as we were expecting something bad to happen. We thought we came upon a completely normal-looking bathroom and almost left but then we heard something in one of the bathroom stalls. We stopped, turned around and listened carefully.

It sounded like a girl was crying and for a second we were really mad at Slytherins for making fun out of a crying girl.

All of a sudden a ghost of a girl came through the door of one of the cubicles. She looked at us startled as much as we looked at her in shock. At first, she looked quite happy to see us. She told us that her name is Myrtle and that she lives in the bathroom. We didn't see anything wrong with that until Tulip made a very big mistake. She asked her what happened to her.

Myrtle burst into tears and started to cry rather loudly. After the crying stopped she started screaming and became angry and just as we were about to leave, the belt on my bag ripped and I heard something broke inside it.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Tulip whispered as she was quite taken aback by Myrtle.

“I have no idea.” I replied as I watched Myrtle getting closer to my bag.

I took a deep breath and ran towards it. I had my drawing notebook in there and I didn't know much about ghosts so I didn't know if Myrtle could ruin it or not. I grabbed my bag and out fell something that looked a lot like a...

“Dungbomb! Nova run!” Yelled Tulip and opened the bathroom door.

We got out just in time and as the doors were closing, we saw how the bomb exploded straight into Myrtle's face as she was too slow to realize what we were running away from.

We ran down the corridor and all the way to the Great Hall and when we finally caught our breath did we manage to understand what happened. We knew we were supposed to feel bad but just by exchanging looks, we burst out laughing.

We laughed so hard that I was beginning to feel cramps in my stomach and Tulip was clapping in a way that reminded me of a clapping seal.

Our friends ran to us, asking what was going on and upon telling them how we sneaked in and detonated a Dungbomb on a crying ghost, Tonks finally spoke.

“No! I was saving that for tomorrow!” She got sad.

“Wait, the bomb was yours?” My face puzzled. “What was it doing in my bag?” I frowned at her.

“Well, you take care of your bag the most as your drawing notebook is inside and I needed a safe place for it until tomorrow to execute my plan.” Tonks' face was as pink as her hair. “See, I wanted to hide the bomb from myself as I knew I wouldn't be able to resist using it today rather than tomorrow.” She explained.

“And you put it in my bag? The bag that has my most prized notebook inside?” I was trying to keep my voice as normal as possible. “What if I didn't grab the bag and the bomb went off with my notebook still inside?” My eyes narrowed.

“Blimey Nova, I'm sorry. I did package the bomb carefully but I didn't think about that.” She scratched her nose.

I couldn't be angry at her, not after what Tulip and I just witnessed, especially because my notebook was alright.

We had to tell the story again as our whole lot laughed, including Penny who wanted to feel sorry for Myrtle but the whole incident was just too funny. Tonks, however, promised that she would never put anything that would either rip or ruin any contents inside my bag ever again as I sewed it back together with a spell.

I spent most of my weekends after lunch with Charlie by the Lake. We got a few new books from Hagrid as he reckoned we were ready for them. While reading them out loud to each other, we usually daydreamed about playing Quidditch and we couldn't wait until the end of the school year when the Second Year students had to pick Elective Subjects as we already knew one of them was going to be Care of Magical Creatures.

Bill sometimes joined us, however, Charlie and I both thought that he was daydreaming about a girl rather than creatures and that he joined us as an excuse to keep an eye on us. Pip also accompanied us to the Lake often and was quite surprised when I started drawing other creatures, inspired by my Self-Doodler rather than him. Serves him right for not wanting to pose for me over the Summer.

[tomb-bloom-noctem]

Any cartoon recommendations? My friend gifted Disney+ for Christmas :)

Oooh! What a nice friend!

Okay no clue if you've seen these and I really hope I'm not just recommending stuff you've already seen or even don't like but oh my gosh for tv shows if you haven't please watch-

Ducktales 2017 of course but I probably don't have to tell you that.

Amphibia. I feel Amphibia gets a bit overshadowed by The Owl House and other shows but it is legitimately so good. The theme makes me feel pumped and despite the shorter episodes they manage to make them so funny and also so impactful. So far only season 1 is up, I wish they'd include the first half of season 2 that they've aired on tv already but ugh is what it is. Still, season 1 alone is still great and worth watching!

The Owl House. Probably most Disney fans have seen or at least heard of this by now but I cannot stress enough how good it is. It does feel familiar to Gravity Falls fans but it stands out on its own strongly as well. Just amazing.

Gravity Falls. The KING. I don't think there's anything I can say that hasn't already been said. It's clever, it's funny, it's got a great mystery element, this is a series that cannot be ignored. Short and sweet but amazing and I'll literally never forget it.

Big Hero 6 the Series. An awesome continuation of the universe that the movie started. It's really funny and legitimately has arcs that I feel could have worked for movies. Also fun fact, ideas that didn't work out for the movie have been getting reworked to be included in the show which is super clever.

Kim Possible. Classic 2000's teen spy fun that holds up so well. It looks great and it's still so fun and enjoyable.

Big City Greens. Probably the most different one on this list but it's a really silly and funny series. It feels aimed more at a younger audience but it is also surprisingly good at having humor that older audiences would like without being inappropriate. I relate to the Green family since I basically would be as lost and confused in a big city as they are. It's mostly humor but there's also heartwarming to it.

Darkwing Duck. Launchpad's favorite! It's super ridiculously out of order on Disney+ so make sure to look for Darkly Dawns the Duck parts 1 and 2 first before watching the rest. It's got that strong 90's feel to it (fitting as it is a show of the 90's of course) but it's still very funny and got great slapstick cartoon animation and humor. Don't miss this!

American Dragon Jake Long. This is an underrated great show from the 2000's! It's about a teen named Jake Long who you guessed it, is a dragon. Worth checking out! (Edit: Sources say it should be coming to Disney plus eventually. It appears to be available in some places but in America it's not currently available.)

Gargoyles. This one is such a hit from back then. It has super quality animation for the time that I still feel holds up to today with powerful messages. It's amazing, do check it out. (Edit: it turns out that yes this one is also available on Disney plus right now.)

Brain is drawing a blank on some other shows so I'll move on to some movie recommendations. Again I have no idea if you've seen any of these so hopefully I'm not just recommending stuff you already have seen 😂 If I am, sorry 😂

Big Hero 6 (the movie takes place before the series so definitely watch the movie first to get the most out of the series and the movie is incredible of course.)

A Goofy Movie. Classic 90's, an epic soundtrack, and the freaking BEST portrayal of Goofy and Max. Legitimately the second most important movie of my personal childhood. It definitely has a 90's feel to it but the performances and the way it hits the heart is timeless.

The Princess and the Frog. Legitimately one of my favorites. Tiana is one of my favorite princesses and it's such a good movie.

Brave. Merida, an icon. The music, amazing even though it's not a musical like The Princess and the Frog and other Disney Princess types. Beautiful animation. Scottish people. It's a win.

Wreck It Ralph. I have mixed feelings on Ralph Breaks the Internet but the original is such a good movie. I feel that even if you aren't a gamer it's still an enjoyable movie but if you are a gamer (which I play a lot of video games 😂) it's even more fun.

The Three Caballeros. Classic Donald fun! It's a weird trippy film but it's such fun and come on it has Donald, José, and Panchito. Win win win.

Fun and Fancy Free. Also an older film, this one has both live action and animation. The highlight is definitely the Mickey and the Beanstalk story which takes up the second half of the movie. But the first half which is the story of a bear named Bongo is still cutesy.

Mickey, Donald, and Goofy: The Three Musketeers. Seriously why does Disney not make more movies like this and the Mickey and the Beanstalk??? It's fun, it's nicely animated, it's a musical, it's really well voice acted, it's a great film.

Monsters University. I think some people brushed this off as the unnecessary prequel movie but I feel like it's a must watch. Definitely works better if you've seen Monsters Inc already though I'm sure most people have. But on it's own, it still stands really strong, it's funny, the voice acting is so strong, and it's at times painfully relatable. It's encouraging and heartbreaking at the same time. I really love it.

And lastly although this one is definitely the most unlike the rest as it's more mature and also a mix of live action and animation- Who Framed Roger Rabbit. This is such a fun film. It's a bit of a parody on the film noir genre but it's so much fun. And come on, it's got Disney and Loony Toons in it. A winner!

EDIT:

Anastasia. This one is newly added so I'm excited that it's finally here. While it is technically not a Disney film it is still an incredibly well-made animated film. Definitely took some historical liberties we'll say, it's still a very beautiful film Amazing soundtrack, stunning animation, and a great story at its heart.

This one I thought I had written down but it was missing so I must have forgotten it

Ducktales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp. This one will feel familiar like a certain Disney princess film as they are similar but this one still has enough duck flair to not feel like a rip off. It's got classic DuckTales fun as well as the classic voice actors, it's great for laughs and for the nostalgia.

Hopefully this is a good list! I tried to pick stuff that wasn't just Disney princess movies or other just popular choices. Thanks for asking and sorry for the errors! 😅

[headoverjojo]

Hello love! May I ask for a scenario of either Riotto's or Prosciutto's first meeting/interaction with a fem! vampire that follows them around becasue she finds the scent of their blood intoxicating? Let's say that maybe she's just been made a vampire and doesn't fully know the extend of her powers yet. How the meeting goes is up to you... Hope you like it and have a wonderful day/night. And late happy birthday! 💐

Hi darling! Sorry for the immense delay ç.ç I have chosen Risotto, I hope it’s ok! (also aaaaa thank you :,) )

Risotto Nero’s first meeting with a vampire who follows him around because she finds the scent of his blood intoxicating

(Under the cut for length!)

Risotto wasn’t the leader of the infamous Squadra Esecuzioni for nothing. He had qualities that the others didn’t have or hadn’t as much as him. His senses were always scanning his surroundings, registering every kind of little oddity, even when he seemed not to react to them. So, he didn’t miss he was followed around, everywhere he went.

He had noticed a curious thing, however: the person who was following him didn’t come inside buildings, like the HQ or his own house. Due to this, he had excluded the stalker possibility; a real stalker would have followed him also inside the house, or they would have tried to steal something that was his. Creepy people; he didn’t like them, not even a bit.

This weird game of chase went on as much as Risotto wanted. He was busy to study his “chaser”, he now called so the mysterious person: until now, he had noticed they preferred night over day -quite fortunate, for them, to have found a kindred nocturnal spirit like him to follow around-, that they were incredibly silent, even if not enough not to be head by him, and that they smelled. It was a weird smell, but it hit his nostrils every time they were near; he knew too well what kind of smell that was…

Blood. They smelled of blood. Fresh one, if he had to classify it. Were they an assassin like him, maybe? Maybe someone from a rival gang? If so, why hadn’t they already attacked him? Were they trying to grab some kind of information? If so, it was wasted time; since the moment he had spotted them on a corner of his consciousness, he had been incredibly careful not to do anything more than walking, when they were spying him. And, if they weren’t someone from a rival gang, if they didn’t want information… then what the hell they wanted?

Finally, after a week of mutual observation, Risotto decided he had enough of this all. It was getting ridiculous and he was growing irritated, and it was never a good thing. So, right when he was on his way to his home, before passing the old and small iron gate of his home, he stopped, focusing on his chaser who, as he had observed the nights before, when he was about to step into his small courtyard always came in the range of his Metallica. He clearly felt his stand gripping on someone’s blood, drawing out the iron to form razors that dangerously threatened to cut the stranger’s throat. He heard a gurgle behind him, but he didn’t turned around. The stranger was still hidden.

“So, when are you going to show your face?” his voice was calm, but that was the same calm that preceded a storm, that gelid, terrifying calm on a battlefield, right a moment before the uproar of the clashing armies. He heard hesitant steps, another gurgle, a wheezing pleading. Just now he turned around, now that he was sure his chaser was in an open field where, in case, he would have been able to fight comfortably. His crimson eyes slightly widened, when he saw the person in front of him.

A girl in pain was crouched on the cement road. Her hands were cupping her throat, from which gurgling sounds and blood were rolling down her chin. What…?

“Who are you and what do you want from me?” Risotto took a little back Metallica, just enough to let her talk without suffocating in her own blood. He was expecting the girl to take deep breaths, but she didn’t do it; it was like… like she didn’t need it. And her skin, now that he was watching closer, didn’t seem so healthy… it was too pale, even under the fading moonlight. What the hell?

“My… my name is G/N. I am… sorry… for this all, really. I didn’t mean to seem like a stalker or such…” Risotto studied her and her behaviour. She wasn’t faking it… she really seemed a bit embarrassed of herself. And she didn’t seem ready to strike a sudden attack… but he had learned not to ever lower his guard. Caution was always his best friend.

“What do you want?” she shivered at his icy tone. Jeez… and now, how to explain her little problem? It wasn’t easy… and she didn’t even know if he would have believed her. Like, she wouldn’t have believed it, in his place, but she had to try it.

“I… don’t really want anything from you. Again, I’m sorry for following you around, but… man, this sounds creepy, I’m sorry, but… like, your blood… the smell of your blood is… pleasant…?” she tried, noticing herself how her words sounded weird and even creepy. This whole situation was ridiculous… and now her throat was burning, but not due to the razors -how the hell could he do it?!-, but due to an aching thirst. Her eyes that now could see way better than before, were focused on his pulse, she… she almost could feel the blood pumping right at few meters, if only… only a little taste, a drop, yes, just a drop of that delicious blood would have been enough…

“Stay far.” the razors grazed again the inside of her throat, like a spiky bouquet, making her choking and immediately withdrawing; she didn’t even have noticed she was slowly coming near…

Risotto observed her, silent and careful. She didn’t seem a liar… but this was all so strange. Even too strange for his likings, and he was used the craziest things on this planet.

“What are you?” Not who, she already told it, but what. Because, and Risotto always believed his instinct, she wasn’t human. Not anymore, at least. But then what was she?

She looked surprised, but also pleased. Well, this made things easier…

“A vampire. Like, a recent vampire, but yeah, a vampire. With fangs and everything else.” she showed him her long canines, wishing, oh, wishing so much to be able to sink them into his skin, to take even just a sip of that blood, so warm and tasty and to finally know how that divine scent tasted on her tongue…

He didn’t even flinch at her words. Well… this explained a lot, all in all. And it wasn’t even so unbelievable; he was used to fight using the embodiment of his fighting spirit, which gave him the power to basically bloodbend people and make razors and scissors grow like flowers, all in all. This was weird, not being a vampire.

“Alright. So, what do you want from me? My blood?” it was clear that Risotto, even if now he wasn’t so hostile anymore towards her, would have made her fight to get even a drop of his blood. She shook her head, even if she would have just wanted to nod; god, yes, she just wanted even a small drop of his blood, just one, to soothe that horrible thirst…

“No, no! I still don’t know how it works, I don’t want to hurt anyone… And again, I’m sorry, I just… couldn’t restrain myself. The smell was just… intoxicating… and I had to follow you around, to see who had such a tasty- I mean, particular.. blood…” she just wanted to dig a hole and bury herself in it. Dang, this was going weird…

Dawn, for once, wasn’t her worst enemy but an ally, breaking out right to save her from more embarrassment. She watched the sky becoming lighter, the dark blue slowly morphing into cerulean, azure, and then fade into a gentle pink. The sun was rising…

“I can’t stay here anymore. I… I have to go. Sorry again.” with a poof, she turned into a bat, quickly flying away, to find a hiding spot to protect herself from the unmerciful sun. Risotto watched it all in silence, before cracking a small and amused smile. What a girl…

He wasn’t worried not to see her anymore. All in all, she knew his blood’s smell…

She would have been back for sure.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 2: The Contest

Summary: Life at SHIELD isn’t always missions and seriousness, as a good natured shooting contest between Katie and Clint shows! The question is, as the two dead-shots face off, who will be the winner? Steve has utter faith in his best friend, but will he win the bet? Either way, both are left contemplating their feelings towards one another and realise they run much deeper than either could ever have imagined them doing.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language (no smut, yet, but will be down the line) Bit of angst, two idiots struggling with feelings

March 2013

A shooting contest between two Avengers was always going to draw big attention, so it was hardly surprising, therefore, that SHIELD agents were running a book. Clint was odds on favourite to win, but Steve had so far refused to take part, that is until 10 minutes or so before the contest was supposed to start. He was stood outside the shooting range, eyes focussed on Katie and Clint as they both stood in there, checking their equipment, a crowd steadily gathering behind him.

 “I know she’s good, but she really doesn’t stand a chance.” Natasha said as she stood at his side. Her matter-of-fact tone caused something in his chest to stir, the lack of faith everyone bar Evans and Lawson from the lab seemed to be displaying in Katie riled him and he turned to Natasha.

“Twenty bucks says she does it.” he stuck his hand out.

She raised an eyebrow at him, before shaking his hand “Alright Rogers, you’re on.”

His hands returned to his belt buckle and both Katie and Clint signalled they were ready.

Evans went into the room, it was soundproof unless you pushed the button to listen in, which Rumlow did, of course.

"No pushing or shoving of your opponent because that’s just a shitty thing to do…” Evans said, his Texan drawl loud as his hand scratched at his ginger beard “No fancy arrows Hawkeye, just the normal rounds.”

“What’s normal about any of this?” Katie mumbled, earning her a smirk off Clint.

“Perfect kill shots are an extra half-point. 20 minute time limit is in force. If you’re tied on score then we’ll go to the number of kill shots made.” Evans looked at them and they both nodded, Katie licking her lips. “Now. To your starting positions…and…” he held his right hand up, 3 fingers extended “May the odds be ever in your favour…”

Steve had no idea what that was a reference too, but he heard the rest of the people around him snigger. Katie threw her head back in a laugh as Clint mimicked Evan’s hand gesture as the other Sniper left the room.

The two opponents stepped up to the line that marked off the beginning of the course, which was constructed out of crates and various other objects. Katie cracked her neck side to side as Clint tested the tension in the bow string one last time before turning his head to meet Katie’s gaze. She put her gun back into its thigh holster and turned to her old SO.

“May the best woman win…” she said with a smirk, fist bumping him with her right hand as she felt the blood pounding in her ears. Then, with a simultaneous nod, the two of them shot forward.

Steve felt a surge of pride as he watched Katie leaping from obstacle to obstacle, landing shot after shot. After she landed the 4th he heard Natasha hiss through her teeth.

“Ok, so maybe she has a little chance…”

Steve didn’t reply, simply watched, silently willing her on.

As the minutes ticked on, the two continued, both making leaps, dropping into rolls, and ducking behind corners. Katie took another shot, and paused for a split second, if she was counting correctly there were two more to go and 5 minutes left on the clock. She looked up for her next target and saw Clint was blocking her way, knelt down, aiming at his own. Katie knew the sensible thing to do would be to wait, but then she was a Stark, being sensible wasn’t one of her main attributes. With a smirk she re-holstered her gun and sprinted as fast as she could, launching herself forward into a perfect front flip, catapulting right over the top of Clint before she immediately slid onto a knee and brought the handgun back up, aiming at the target.

Outside the room there was a lot of cheering and cat calls at her display of acrobatics.

Katie moved to her final target, back against a large crate, aimed but then missed and Steve closed his eyes- that would cost her.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, doubling over to catch her breath as Clint walked over to her, pulling her into a hug.

“Sharp shooting Nova!” he grinned, ruffling at her hair. Both of them turned as the doors open and a few agents walked in, back slapping them both as Evans collected the targets and went to tally up the points.

“That was impressive!” Steve said, crossing the room smiling “both of you.”

“Not bad Stark.” Nat added, appraisingly

“Thanks.” she said, taking a drink of the bottle of water Clint handed to her. She was red faced, sweating but absolutely thrilled, pumped full of adrenaline. She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath.

“Ok and we have the results!” Evans said and Clint threw his arm round Katie as hers slid round his waist.  “Barton hit each target, giving him 10 plus 4 kill shots, taking him to 12. Stark you missed one giving you 9 and 3 kill shots, taking you to 10.5…”

“Damned it!” Katie groaned, shaking Clint’s hand as the various cheers and complaints went up as people started to cash in their bets.

“You’re fired…” Steve heard a familiar voice say. Spinning round, he saw Fury handing over a fifty to an agent whose name escaped him and Steve bit back a smile. The Director had bet on Katie. That one mistake had been costly.

“Cough up Rogers…” Nat said, holding out her hand. He turned to her, sighing and fished in his pocket for a twenty, handing it to her.

“You bet on me?” Katie looked at him, surprised.

“Course I did, sweetheart.” he said immediately.

 “Yeah I didn’t, sorry Stark.” Nat said, taking the twenty off him “Clint’s never lost a challenge yet.”

“He nearly did.” Steve said, looking at his friend proudly before he glanced back at Natasha. “Was worth the bet to see you get so twitchy Romanoff… “

“I wasn’t twitchy…” She said, as Clit looked at her.

“Seriously?”  he frowned.

“I’ll admit at one point I thought Stark might have just shaded it…” Nat narrowed her eyes at Steve who simply shrugged, hands dropping to the front of his belt buckle.

“To be fair, there was one point where I thought that too.” Clint smiled, and Katie felt a surge of pride in her chest as he replaced the arrows into his quiver. “Did good Nova, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Clint.” she smiled at him.

“So, who fancies a drink?” Barton looked around, clapping his hands together.

“I’m game.” Katie said, emptying her magazine, already stripping down her weapon.

Natasha nodded and then Steve realised they were all looking at him. He hesitated, he really did need to train as he hadn’t had a decent run that morning and he’d be restless all evening otherwise, but after that…why not?

"I gotta work out first but if you tell me where you’re going I'll join you when I'm done.” he said.

“Take a day off!” Nat drawled, examining her nails. He was about to reply but Katie got there first.

“If he doesn’t work out he’s a right crank! And no one likes a Cranky Cap…”

“You know what Stark…” he started but she simply stuck her tongue out at him causing him to roll his eyes, fighting to keep the smile off his face.

“Why don’t we try the new sports bar on the high-street, what’s it called again?” Clint suggested.

“Home Run?” Nat asked.

“Yeah that’s it.” he nodded “Couple of doors down from the Burger joint.”

“I’ll find it.” Steve said as Clint nodded, making for the door, Natasha following.  Katie turned to Steve, smiling at him as he surveyed the room.

"You did a good job," he nodded to the obstacle course “Did it take you back to fighting Aliens?”

"Not quite the same, you know? No returning gunfire… no life-or-death stakes… no Captain America cushioning my fall when we got blown out of a bank window," she teased. He laughed, as she started to back up towards the door. "I won't take up your workout time. See you at the bar?"

“You never take up my time, doll.” He smiled back, honestly before he felt the flush rise up his neck. What a dumbass thing to say. “See you later." he nodded.

With that she took her leave, tugging her hair out the ponytail as she left, allowing the gentle waves to cascade down her back.

********

Half an hour or so, after a Katie had showered and changed, the 3 Avengers were making the 20 minute or so walk to the bar downtown.

“You know I still can’t believe I got to within a point and a half of you.” Katie nudged Clint.

“Me neither actually.” Natasha asked “I thought it was gonna be a whitewash.”

“Oh ye of little faith…” Katie said, mock hurt lacing her voice.

“Tell you who did have faith, other than Rogers… Fury.” Nat said grinning.

“Hang on…the boss bet against me?” Clint stopped “Damned.”

“Don’t take it personally…” Katie shrugged as they reached the bar. Clint opened the door to let the girls step in first and then he joined them, looking around at the new surroundings. It was low lit but piled with sports memorabilia which they paused to have a look at on their way to the bar. Drinks purchased, they headed to a plush, leather seated booth and settled down.

They fell into an easy chat, and then the inevitable teasing about Rumlow fancying Katie started up and she groaned. Clint and Nat enjoyed ribbing her about him and she had to admit, he wasn’t subtle to be fair. He’d asked her out 3 times now and she’d politely declined but it didn’t stop her friends from enjoying teasing her about it. Clint and Nat took turns in trying to highlight Rumlow’s more endearing qualities. They managed a sum total of 3 when Clint leaned back in his chair and shrugged.

“I’m out…” he grinned as Katie laughed, raising her glass to her mouth to drain the last of her beer.

“Yeah, he’s not relationship materiel…” Nat shrugged

“But you could just fuck him, get what you need and kick him out before breakfast.” Clint suggested causing Katie to choke down her mouthful of European lager and pick up the beer mat nearest her.

Steve chose that exact moment to walk into the bar. He watched as the beer mat hit Clint straight between the eyes, and Katie threw her head back in pure, unadulterated laughter. Something in his chest stirred as he watched her, that wonderful smile and laugh filling her face. He enjoyed seeing her so relaxed.

“Hey…” he greeted them as they all looked up. “You guys need another drink?”

“Cheers Cap, 3 beers…” Clint motioned round the table and Steve headed off to the bar. Katie watched him go, eye trained on his ass which looked remarkably fine in those dark denims...then, realising what she was doing and who she was with, she let out silent groan as she turned back to see Clint and Nat exchanging a glance, a glance between two people who had just discovered the best secret ever and she knew she’d been caught.  

“What?” she shrugged “Girl can look, right?”

Neither of them said anything just kept smirking to themselves in that infuriating way until Steve returned, setting down the 4 pints which he easily held in his hands and slid into the spare seat next to Katie.

“I’m in the mood for another challenge.” Clint leaned forward, his eyebrows raising up and down as he spoke.

“Like what?” Katie folded her arms

“Which one of you…” he said, waving his finger between her and Nat “…can down a pint fastest?”

“That’s not a contest…” Katie looked at Nat, smirking. “We all know it’s me.”

The red head quirked an eyebrow, “I’m game if you are.”

Katie shrugged as Clint chuckled and pounded his hand on the table. “Alright then, Ladies…on your marks…”

As soon as Clint had done counting down Katie raised the glass to her mouth and chugged, draining it in 4 seconds flat before turning it upside down on top of her head. Natasha wasn’t even half way through hers before she groaned and set her glass down, trying to supress a burp.

Steve couldn’t help but look at her, his mouth falling open.

"What?” she laughed, shrugging as the Captain exchanged a look with Clint “I spent 3 years at University, drinking with boys…”

“Yeah well I’ll stick to Vodka…” Nat said, shaking her head “Fancy that as a challenge?”

“Not a chance.” Katie said, “Although Cap could…”

“He could, but he won’t” Steve said sternly shooting her a look “Because it wouldn’t be fair…”

Katie rolled her eyes pouting.

“You do know I’m Russian, right.” Nat said, leaning back “I was practically weaned on the stuff…”

“Yes, I know that, but I can't get drunk." Steve shrugged “my metabolism burns it off too fast.”

“Cap…” Clint sighed, shaking his head “That might just be the saddest thing I have ever heard.”

“Even sadder than when you heard you were shipping off to guard Thor’s hammer?” Nat asked

Clint considered this for a moment “Hmmmm. Maybe the same level of sadness at learning I was about to head to Butt-fuck America for an undefined amount of time, yes.”

Steve choked into his beer. Besides him Katie laughed.

"That's a bit harsh," he said as Clint snorted and shook his head.

"Cap. I'm serious. It was legit in the middle of the fucking desert. Nothing for miles."

“What happened to that one eyed puppy we found?” Katie asked suddenly.

“Err, I took him to some friends.” Clint said “Their kids love him, he’s living the best life.”

Katie and Natasha shared a smile, both understood Friends to mean his family and his own kids.

“Still eating Pizza?” Katie asked.

“Pizza?” Steve asked, frowning. “Who feeds a dog pizza?”

“Well he was a bit like you in that respect. Do anything for a double pepperoni with extra cheese.” Katie nudged him with her elbow

“As long as its New York style…” Steve drained his glass, matter of factly.

“Admit it, you enjoyed it when it took you to Second City” Katie eyed him.

“You been to Seconds?” Clint asked, “Thought you swore you wouldn’t go back after that waiter said he wanted to give you a real slice of Chicago to talk about?”

Natasha snorted “Wish I’d seen that.”

“Trust me…”Clint said, “You don’t. Nova went from zero to full metal jacket in 3 seconds flat. Dragged him over the counter and everything…”

“You didn’t?” Steve glanced at her, although he knew she probably had.

“Look… we had just got back from a week’s stake out in Saudi Arabia…” Katie sighed, shrugging as Clint and Natasha laughed “I was tired and fending off the advances of some greasy, 40 something year old man politely really wasn’t top of my list…”

“Why not? You do it every day to Rumlow” Nat smirked.

At the mention of his name Steve felt his eyes narrow. He hated the way the STRIKE leader blatantly eyed Katie up at every given chance. It was disrespectful.

“Don’t start that again” Katie rolled her eyes.

“He’s not a bad looking guy.” Nat persisted “You could do worse…”

“You like him so much you fuck him!” Katie’s voice was snappy. Romanoff leaned back in her chair, eyeing her over half full glass, smirking.

“Touched a nerve, Stark?”

“No, you’re just talking crap, as usual.” she shot back, standing up. “My round…”

Steve moved so that she could get out and watched her head to the bar.

“Think we need to lay off the whole Rumlow thing…” Clint snorted, turning Nat. “She’s clearly not interested.”

“Tell that to Rumlow” Nat shrugged snorted.

“Well you can’t blame him, she’s a good looking girl.” Clint shrugged

“Yeah but she’s obviously looking for someone a little less…”

“Of an ass hat?” Clint cut in making Steve snort.

“I was gonna say a little more of a gentleman but…if the cap fits…” Nat shrugged and her eyes flashed to Steve and he knew instantly she had aimed that comment at him. Steve sighed and shook his head, shooting her a glare which she shrugged off, in her usual nonchalant way.

But he couldn’t shake it out of his mind. Did she know something he didn’t?

****

A few hours later Clint and Nat decided they’d had enough and left to grab a taxi. When Clint was in town he always stayed with Nat, prompting Steve to wonder if there was anything going on beyond the platonic friendship. He pondered it for a moment, deciding to just ask the question.

 “Is there something going on there?” he nodded to the pair as they left.

“No.” Katie said, shaking her head “Absolutely not.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Ok, I’ll tell you, but don’t be pissed I haven’t told you before…” she said, pausing “Clint…he’s married, has 2 kids.”

“What?” Steve choked on his beer.

“They have a place…somewhere, I don’t know exactly but it’s off SHIELD’s books and no one knows bar me, Nat and Fury…”

“Huh…” Steve said, pondering for a moment.

“Look, sorry I didn’t tell you but…”

“It’s ok.” He smiled. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little bit disappointed she hadn’t told him before, but he understood, she was loyal to a fault. “I get it, he’s your friend.”

“Yeah I know but he’s not my best friend…” she batted her eyelids at him.

“Hmmm, stop buttering me up.”

“Has it worked?”

“Yes.” He said, draining his glass and she grinned “Same again?”

They had a couple more before Katie decided she was one pint away from being drunk and Steve found himself a little bit disappointed she wanted to leave. He was enjoying spending the time with her. It felt different to their usual trips out, she’d been more relaxed than he had seen her in a long time, enjoying the gentle touches she made to his arm and leg when she was teasing him.

“You know, you shouldn’t have told Nat you can’t get drunk and whooped her ass at a vodka necking contest.” she said, linking her arm into his as they headed to the taxi rank.

“Now that would have been dishonest” he smirked. “Surely you’re not saying I should use my enhancement to my advantage in such a situation?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” she nodded.

He laughed, sticking his arm out to hail a cab.

“But then you’re a very honest kinda guy…” she said.

“I have my moments” he turned to face her

“Nah ah, you can’t lie for shit!” she grinned at him.

“No, I can’t lie to you for shit, sweetheart” He said, rolling his eyes “You know me too well.”

“Hmmm, true.” she said, nodding in agreement. The car stopped at the curb and Steve opened the door for her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Steve asked, not particularly happy she was cabbing back alone, it was times like this he wished he had a car. “I can walk back for my bike…”

“I can handle myself…I’m a trained killer remember?” she said, raising her hands and making gun signs at him with her fingers. He shook his head, smiling.

“You’re an idiot.” He snorted a laugh.

“But you love me!” she grinned, standing on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. “g’night soldier.”

“Call me when you’re home.” He instructed “And if I ain’t heard from you in 20…” he raised his voice so the cab driver could hear.

She shook her head, smiling as she climbed into the taxi and waved as it pulled off.

*****

It wasn’t long before she was home. She kicked off her boots, flopped down onto her bed and pulled out her phone, better do as Captain Badass said or knowing him he’d turn up and kick the door in.

“So I’m home Old timer…” she said, when he answered and from his sigh she knew he would be rolling his eyes.

“Less of the old” he said, the clinking of cutlery and plates rattling in the background.

“What you doing?” she asked.

“Making food.”

“You can’t cook.” she snorted.

“Yes I can.”

“So why have you never cooked for me?” she asked indignantly, feeling somewhat annoyed that she always did the cooking for the two of them.

“Because you’re better at it.” He said simply “And I've made you grilled cheese before. And soup. Now drink some water and go to sleep.”

“God you’re so bossy.” she grumbled. “Captain Badass…”

“Someone has to be, you’re a law unto yourself.”

“Yah but admit it, I’m awesome.”

“I know you are, I’ve told you before. But if I say it again will you do what I said?”

“Maybe, probably…definitely maybe” she said, shrugging to herself.

“Then you’re awesome. Goodnight doll.”

“Night Stevie.”

On that he cut the call, placing his phone down on the counter as he thought back over the day, waiting for his food to heat. For the first time in a long time he actually felt completely at ease. Ease with his life both in and out of work.

Up until a few weeks ago it had still felt slightly confusing, and it still did with the STRIKE team sometimes. At first he had been tentative, not trying to step on Rumlow’s toes but that had quickly subsided and the two of them had fallen into a pretty good working relationship. As much as Rumlow could rile him, he knew that the man was good at his job, and Steve was good at his. He was the tactician, Rumlow organised the troops. But sometimes, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sometimes he feels interest, but it was often coloured by the lingering disillusionment that they were merely humouring him as the blue eyed all American hero he had been painted to be.

But never once had he felt like that with Katie.

And then his apartment seemed to blur in front of him, causing him to realise this went way beyond some daft crush. He was really falling in deep. The heat travelled up his chest into his neck and he felt his palms become sweaty. He dropped his arms to wipe them on his jeans as the fizzy feeling left his body, but stayed by him, swirling around until he could practically hear it. This really, really wouldn’t do. She was his friend, a work colleague…the daughter of one of his friends from the 40s…and then there was Peggy.

Not for the first time Steve delved into the reasons he'd been drawn to Katie, comparing her to Peggy. Both women had strong personalities, an unwavering sense of justice and ethics, a deep well of compassion, loyalty, and the air of authority that put more than one man in his place, including himself. They were both incredibly beautiful, filled with passion, devotion and ambition…

Abandoning his food, his appetite lost completely he threw the remains into the bin and headed into his bedroom, intending to do what he did best when it came to women. 

Stick his head in the sand and hope to God it all went away.

Meanwhile, Katie was going through her own bedtime routine, shedding her clothes and pulling on a pair of pyjamas before collapsing into her pillow, thinking about what a good day it had been. She hadn’t disgraced herself at the contest, had a good evening in the pub afterwards, and to top it off Fury and Steve had actually backed her in said contest.

At the thought of Steve she smiled to herself. It was kind of nice to have him looking out for her, even if he was a bossy bastard about drinking water. Which reminded her, she needed some. Heading to the kitchen she grabbed a glass, filled it, and then made her way back to bed, this time snuggling down under the covers.

And it wasn’t just the way he cared, it was the way he was so comfortable with her. The gentle touches to her arm and lower back, the fact he called her doll or sweetheart. The smile that he flashed her that could light up his entire face, and those eyes…those god damned beautiful eyes that could drown her in seconds…

Her stomach was suddenly crawling with those damned butterflies, the same ones she had been feeling on or off around him now since Thanksgiving. And they fluttered from her stomach to her chest. It was getting harder and harder to ignore them now, she had feelings for Captain fucking America. Her dad’s friend, her best friend...

Groaning, she rolled over and shoved her head into the pillows. She was utterly fucked.

Tags @the-omni-princess​

[burntpastel]

late

(On AO3)

Summary: Midoriya loses track of time and accidentally stays out past curfew. Mic decides he deserves a reward for having to go out and retrieve him.

Notes: a fic commissioned by Ivyblush and theDavynator on AO3! thanks again!!

italicized dialogue usually indicates usage of english.

raping people is evil. adults who date and/or fuck minors are evil. dont do it, and and don't base any real life relationships or choices off the content of fanfics.

cw rape, underage, impregnation, vomiting, trans deku

Midoriya is still, eyes locked on his target. He tries to focus on his body, his quirk, without tuning out visual information, then makes a quick, practiced movement, kicking out his leg. The force from his quirk carries across the gym, clipping two of the targets hanging from the ceiling instead of moving between them like he'd wanted, taking a decent sized chunk out of one.

Sighing, he moves a couple of feet down the line, to the last of the targets he’d prepared beforehand. He waits for them to settle back into place, then concentrates, hoping this time he can do it without breaking anything—including himself. He then kicks—

“HEY!”

The jolt of adrenaline sends his kick off course, shattering many of the remaining targets to the left of where he was originally aiming. (He’ll need to work on that too.)

“Mic-sensei!” Midoriya turns to him, and boy, does he look annoyed. He’s not even sure what he did this time. “What are you doing here?”

Mic strolls up to him with his hands in his pockets, glowering at him. It’s his turn to watch the dorms this week, and he’s wearing casual clothes. Sometimes it takes Midoriya a second to recognize him with his hair down.

“Looking for my missing student!” he provides with false cheer. Midoriya blinks. Is someone else gone, or has he been labeled missing himself?

He notices Mic’s eyes fixed on his chest and becomes painfully aware that he’s in a thin t-shirt and sports bra. He tugs his shirt away from his chest to hide his form, averting his gaze in embarrassment—not because he thinks Mic's staring is questionable, Midoriya knows he's usually covered up or has his binder on so he doesn't really blame him for being drawn to the unexpected shapes—more in a "sorry for being visibly trans" kind of way.

“It’s passed curfew, you know.”

Midoriya sucks in a breath, looking back up at him. Was he really training that long?

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was so late…”

Midoriya scrambles to collect his things. As he rushes past Mic to return to the dorms, he’s stopped by his outstretched hand, palm splaying against his torso and fingers brushing Midoriya’s chest in the process.

“Hold on a minute!”

Midoriya quickly scrambles back, looking up at his teacher, feeling his face burn at the accidental touch.

Something in Mic’s expression has changed. Instead of the drained irritation he’d shown before, his eyes are now intense as he stares down at Midoriya, though still calm, and he almost looks… pleased…?

Mic gestures to the locker room behind him. ”Go take a shower before we head back—you’re a mess!”

The words just sound like gibberish until his mind shifts to thinking in English. Feeling a little embarrassed that it had slipped his mind, Midoriya quickly nods. “Okay.”

He starts to turn when Mic interrupts him.

”Try again.”

Midoriya gives him an exasperated smile. That’s the fun thing about Mic-sensei—he never really stops teaching. Every moment is another chance for a little pop quiz.

”Yes, sir.”

Mic nods to him, and he sets off across the gym for the locker room. As he’s pushing the door open, Mic calls out.

“One last thing, Midoriya."

Midoriya looks back at him over his shoulder, and Mic almost looks like his usual self with the grin he’s wearing—except, it’s a little more unnerving with the way he’s peering at him over the rim of his glasses.

“Do you know what ‘I’m gonna rail your cunt’ means?”

Midoriya hesitates. He knows some of the words, but not the important ones that make the sentence meaningful. He shakes his head.

“No, sir.”

Mic’s smile grows wider, before he shakes his head, gesturing for Midoriya to go ahead with his shower.

.

Now that his body has realized how late it is and how long he was training for, he feels exhausted all at once. The water seems to be trying its best to lure him into sleep, and it is quite tempting.

After his shower he wraps a towel around himself and walks back to the lockers to get dressed. He’s in the middle of setting the towel down to slip on his underwear when he hears a soft sound—too subtle for his drowsy mind to parse immediately, but pointed enough to catch his attention. He glances around for the source of the noise, and in the same millisecond he realizes it was a laugh he spots Mic watching him from the shadows.

“Way to be alert, hero.”

Midoriya jerks his towel back up to his chest, fumbling to fasten it around himself with one hand while Mic approaches faster than he can figure out what the fuck is happening.

“You don’t like my class as much as All Might's,” Mic says matter-of-factly. “I put a lot of effort into my lessons, y’know.”

His face doesn’t reflect what he’s saying; there’s no trace of hurt, or anger or disappointment, just that same intense stare and grin. Yet, there’s no teasing quality to his voice, either.

“I do!” Midoriya spits, unsure if it’s out of politeness or fear. He takes a half step backwards for every two of Mic’s forward. “I’m just bad at English.”

“Ah, yeah,” Mic agrees. “Your last test came back pretty bad!”

...It did? He thought he’d actually done well on that one.

The amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins has his blood rushing painfully hard against every part of his body—yet, he doesn’t want to assume the worst of his teacher. His mind half convinces him that 'oh, this is about grades. That's important enough to interrupt someone getting dressed for. Yeah.'

He doesn’t run, but he does keep backing away and adopts very defensive body language, hoping that at some point Mic will get the idea that he’s uncomfortable if he curls up enough, tilts his head down, and averts his gaze.

“I know you guys hate all my quizzing, but I think you could use the extra credit!”

Mic finally stops about arm’s length away. Midoriya’s leaning so far back against the bench that he loses his balance and has to just sit down on it. He keeps his chin tucked, but stares up at Mic with wide eyes, subconsciously squeezing his legs together.

“So, I’ll make my last phrase a little easier for you…”

Mic leans down towards him, and it finally clicks in Midoriya’s head that no, he’s not just being paranoid or sensitive—this is wrong.

”I’m going to fuck you."

His stomach drops into ice.

Midoriya lurches to his feet but Mic grabs him by the arm and shoves him back into a sitting position. Midoriya squirms against his grasp, but as he’s trying to twist away and raises a hand to pry Mic off him, Mic lowers his lips to his ear and growls through his teeth, “I could end your hero career right here. Don’t even think about using your quirk.”

Midoriya freezes. Mic licks the shell of his ear before pulling back, looking quite satisfied at this. Midoriya’s eyes dart around the room as his breathing becomes frantic and uneven, lungs torn between hyperventilating and bursting into tears.

He can’t run, Mic’s quirk works from a distance, his feet are wet, and he’s naked. He can’t fight, even if he wanted to; Mic could accidentally kill him just with a cry of pain.

Can’t run... Can’t fight...

“No!” Midoriya squeals in between heaving gasps. His head feels so light he thinks he’ll topple over at any second. “Please, I d—”

“Is that any way to talk to your English teacher?” Mic chides as he reaches for the button of his pants.

“Wh—" He then switches to English, "No!"

“Good!” Mic praises, and for a second Midoriya’s blood pressure drops a fraction. “But nah. I’m pretty ticked I had to come all the way out here to get you, and you have a nice ass, so…”

Mic pulls his dick out of his pants. It’s riddled with piercings, and somehow that scares Midoriya even further. Maybe it just makes him think how this was always lurking under his teacher’s heroic facade, just like a bunch of scary metal studs beneath his clothes. Midoriya’s not even old enough to get piercings like that himself...

Mic's stroking himself and stepping closer. Midoriya wants to wake up. Wants this to be a nightmare that ends before the worst of it comes. He wants to fall out of his body. He wants to melt into the floor.

If he was trembling any harder, he’s pretty sure it would qualify as convulsions.

"I don't have to tell you how bad an idea it would be to bite me, right?" Mic puts his foot up on the bench, standing over Midoriya's lap as he holds his dick in front of his face.

His mind is blank. This isn't like an encounter with a villain—there's no one to protect, no backup coming, he's naked for fuck's sake—he doesn't know what to do. He squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away, but doesn't get very far as Mic grabs a fistful of his hair so tight he can't move.

"Open up!" Mic chirps, yet seems perfectly content to rub the head of his cock all over his face instead. Midoriya shudders as he nudges it against the fat of his cheek, rubbing up and down and in circles—flooded with the urge to scream, to thrash, to cry and bite and kick.

But he stays still, so rigid every part of him aches. His jaw is shut tight, lips pressed into a firm line as a Mic runs his cock over them. He goes over each multiple times, back and forth leisurely.

"Come on, you never shut your mouth this long…"

He prods at the corners of his mouth, rubs against them in intense small circles. It's much more effective than Midoriya would like; he's never able to press though his lips entirely, but he manages to part them enough to draw out some saliva, especially when the ring at his tip nudges between them.

Midoriya is clutching his towel to his chest so tightly he can't even feel that arm anymore. His stomach is so tight he feels like he's going to die. Part of him welcomes it; he doesn't want to be here.

Mic then thrusts forward, his cock bumping his nose and smearing precome on the ridge of his brow as it slips up against his face. Mic grinds it between his pelvis and Midoriya's cheek as he humps his face. Midoriya can feel the way Mic's skin drags against his own, the gliding metal studs, his balls tapping against his chin with each upward thrust, a mound of wiry hair whenever his cock slips out of place. His mind is in searing, white hot pain. He can feel these sensations carving their way into his brain, never to be forgotten.

The way it feels, the way it smells, the sounds Mic is making as he does it, the fingers knotted in his hair… He already knows that, if his heart doesn't stop in the middle of this (and it might, based on how hard it's beating and how much it hurts,) that one day he's going to be trying to live his life only to be haunted by the sensation of a cock shoved against his face, of all things.

His extremities are freezing, even the tips of his ears feel like ice, but his torso is burning hot as he trembles, legs straining in unnatural ways that would give him a cramp in any other situation. He feels a headache beginning to form where Mic is tugging his hair to keep him in place.

Apparently his dick slips out from between them one too many times, because Mic draws back just enough to grasp the base between his forefinger and thumb and deliver a series of quick slaps against Midoriya's face with it. Humiliation and anger tingle painfully across every inch of Midoriya's skin, beginning from his stomach. He grits his teeth hard, trying to focus on the creaking sound of his jaw.

The contact only dully hurts when concentrated in one area too long, but occasionally one of the metal studs catches his cheekbone, making Midoriya flinch quite uselessly in Mic's grip. The sharper pain brings reflexive tears, which break the dam—his lungs spasm with barely restrained sobs, tears pushing their way through his clenched eyelids.

He hadn't wanted to cry. His lips quiver, making it quite hard to keep them pinched together, while his jaw occasionally cracks open a fraction with a wail it desperately wants to vocalize. His shoulders bounce and chest heaves with silent, choked down sobs. As if his body needed more tension.

"This would be over a lot quicker if you'd just open your mouth..."

Mic seems perfectly content to ignore his tears, carrying on battering Midoriya's face with his cock. If anything, he seems enthused, picking up the speed so that he's practically beating off against him. He moves away from his cheek closer to the center of his face, so that his slaps land partially against his mouth.

In his head, Midoriya toys with the idea of just opening his mouth, just to end whatever torment this is.

Mic groans impatiently, but it just comes out needy. Suddenly, the member assaulting his face is gone.

"Hey, Midoriya, how do you say 'beg' in English?"

Midoriya stays quiet, knowing his cock is hovering just in front of his face, waiting.

"Come on." His cock hits his face again. His nose stings so much from the blow that he doesn't even feel the scratch that the circular ring at the tip leaves on his brow. His cries ramp up another level, a whine emanating from his throat.

"You're gonna get fucked either way. Might as well pass your test too."

Midoriya's mind is eager to latch onto a silver lining.

And he really, really wants Mic's cock to stop touching his face.

"...Be—ghk!"

He's promptly rewarded with a cock inside his mouth.

He doesn't shove it down his throat, at least; still guiding it with his fingers he rubs it around; down against his tongue, or up along his inner cheek, stretching it outward.

"There we go," Mic draws out, sounding quite pleased in multiple ways.

Midoriya almost gags anyway, just out of sheer disgust. He tries to withdraw with tongue as much as he can, but that just seems to give Mic an ample platform to rub his tip against. He then tries flattening it instead, but it allows him to grind a greater length of his cock along it.

He settles for withdrawn.

Midoriya's not sure this is better than just letting him hump his face (or rather the outside of his face, because that's very much still happening.) It doesn't hurt as much, but letting him use his mouth for pleasure is just as humiliating, he thinks, just in a different kind of way.

His jaw aches from how wide he has to hold it open to avoid scraping his teeth against his dick. He's surprised the way his piercings click and catch against his teeth doesn't put Mic off more; it seems like it would hurt. Each time Midoriya feels that circular ring touch his back teeth he has the impulse to bite down on it.

Drool runs down his chin, trailing to his chest. He weeps around Mic's cock as he thrusts it against his inner cheek, his whimpers occasionally interrupted as Mic shoves it a little too far in what might be an attempt to silence him. The tears on his cheeks are starting to itch in places but he's too afraid to open his eyes and doesn't want to chance touching Mic to wipe at them.

"How do you say…” Mic trails off to think, “...'pulse' in English?"

"...Pul-thh." he answers as well as he can while crying with a dick in his mouth, careful as he forms the 'p' to not bite him.

"Mm. What do you do to cool something off?"

"...Blow."

"If a building has electricity, you could also say it has…?"

"Power."

Midoriya isn't oblivious to what he's doing; the answers all force him to seal his lips fully around him or flick his tongue against his shaft—but it's easy to pretend that it's unrelated to the way Mic thrusts into his mouth with each answer.

Just extra credit. Not pleasure.

"Good!" Mic eventually praises, entirely condescending. "Now, wrap your lips around it and suck."

Midoriya's stomach drops, wincing at the thought. He shakes his head as well as he can in Mic's grip.

"Aw, kid, you were practically already doing it before!" Mic insists. "Just like when you made a 'b'."

He tugs on his hair and wiggles his length around in his mouth, tapping it against his tongue as he continues his coaxing.

"Come on, just suck it. Suck it. Suck my dick."

"Just once. Just suck my dick. Just the head?"

"It's not that hard. Just suck me off. Do it."

Midoriya sobs around him, keeping his jaw stretched wide open. Tension ripples through his body, feeling a strong, reckless urge to bring his teeth down—and an awful, aching helplessness because he knows he can't.

"Hey, if you make me come now, maybe I won't fill up your pussy instead!"

He's going to—?

The wave of nausea that floods him accompanied by Mic thrusting just a little too far into his mouth makes him gag, and bile flows over his lips before he even knows what's happening. Mic withdraws as Midoriya hunches over in a coughing fit, idly wiping away the vomit on his cock with his thumb. Midoriya's head swims as he finally opens his eyes again, feeling disorientation like he just got slammed back into reality.

He really doesn't have the energy to spare for coughing. He forces himself to stop, allowing the remainder of the bile to just burn at his throat. He finally moves his numb arm to scrub at his chin, neck and chest with the towel, staining the white fabric with a sickly yellow.

"Alright, if you can't handle your oral exam, fine. You've got other holes."

Mic steps forward again as Midoriya takes heaving breaths, looming over him. He presses on Midoriya's shoulder, urging him back while his other hand tugs the towel away from his lap.

"How about you lay back and spread your legs for me..."

Midoriya freezes for just a moment, staring up at him in horror, before abandoning the towel and jumping to his feet to slip out from between Mic and the bench.

"No you don't!"

Mic catches his arm, twisting it behind his back as he shoves him towards the bench, exposing his back to him. Midoriya is forced to bend to accommodate Mic wrenching his arm.

"No!" Midoriya sobs as he feels something hard brush against his thighs. Mic tries to push his upper half downwards so that he's face down and ass up, but Midoriya braces his palm on the bench and locks his elbow in time to prevent it.

"Oh," Mic chuckles so darkly it's practically a growl. "You're gonna regret not making this easy for me, kid."

Midoriya clamps his legs shut as tight as he can, but it doesn't help much when he's bent so far forward, pussy poking out from between them with the incline of his pelvis. Mic's free hand slides to the back of Midoriya's thigh, thumb tugging his skin to spread his lips for him. Midoriya squirms and thrashes, but his arm is pushed further in response, a clear threat straining its way through his muscles.

Midoriya screams as Mic pushes inside, a pure, animalistic vocalization of distress, pain and protest; a contrast to Mic's soft groan. His piercings catch on his hymen, ripping through as he presses on anyway. Midoriya flinches hard, legs parting reflexively in an effort to reduce the pain, feeling much like he's being split open. He can't believe his teacher is sinking his cock inside of him. Midoriya wants to lurch away, instincts telling him to vault over the bench and run, but he only moves so far before Mic starts pulling on his twisted arm, threatening to rip it out of the socket—and before he knows it, Mic is fully hilted inside him, cock ring jabbing his cervix unpleasantly.

He freezes, trying to catch his breath with too-small lungs. He can feel his walls throbbing sharply in complaint at the intrusion. It's too big. Too dry. His thighs tremble, so hard that his knees nearly give out at times. It's unlike the fearful tremors from before; he's quite unused to having something shoved between his legs like this.

Mic's free hand grips his hip with a bruising force. "F-uck you're tight!"

If he thought pushing in hurt, pulling out is five times worse. Midoriya yelps as Mic withdraws, cock dragging against his tender insides and torn entrance, until only the head remains. Then he thrusts back in just as harshly, and Midoriya's cry takes on a slightly… different tone, much to his displeasure. Softer, more surprised. It still hurts, especially because his piercings catch on that same ring of skin again, but this time it also sends a different feeling reeling through his abdomen.

He's too breathless to even protest as Mic thrusts into him, caught between gasps, hisses, and sobs as the exact amount of pain and pleasure vary with each one. His cunt is doing its best to provide lubrication to ease the process, but it can only do so much unaroused.

Midoriya feels a sense of defeat; emptiness and humiliation stirring inside him. He's actually getting fucked, in a locker room on campus, by his teacher. He can feel his ass jiggle with each slap of Mic's hips against his skin, the sound echoing off the tiles and bouncing around the room. Midoriya's experienced a lot of unpleasant things, including public, relentless bullying over things he couldn't control, and he's pretty sure none of it was as deeply degrading as having his most intimate body parts used against his will for someone else's pleasure, while being dragged along for the ride, forced to stifle moans as he's violated by someone he thought he could trust.

He wants time to whirl by in a blur, for it to be over before he even knows it, but instead he's hyperaware of every second, every thrust, every painful jolt of forced pleasure that goes through his stomach. Every pant and gasp and groan Mic makes that fills him with a little more nausea, or fear, or anger. Sometimes it feels like it's all about to overflow, but all he does in the end is sit there and take it.

And Mic seems inclined to drag things out even more. His thrusts slow as he runs his hand up over the curve of his ass, humming a content noise behind him.

Without him pounding away, Midoriya is finally able to regain control over his lungs.

"Stop!" he gasps. "Please!"

He hates how soft and whiney his voice is, how he's moaning the words instead of commanding them.

"What was that?"

He pauses, frantically searching his overwhelmed mind. "Please!"

"Please what?"

"Stop!"

"Hmm… No, that's not right. Try 'harder' or 'keep going'."

Midoriya whimpers and hangs his head as Mic chuckles darkly, running his hand up his side. He's fucking him as if he's trying to get familiar with his cunt, like he's mapping out every crease and curve with the tip of his dick. Midoriya is overcome with the urge to crawl over the bench again, but the second he starts forward Mic yanks his arm back. It gives out a loud, threatening pop in response, and a slight pain starts to creep in a few seconds later. Mic huffs out a laugh, and fucks him just that little bit harder, like his efforts aroused him further.

Mic slides his hand underneath him to grope at his breasts, squeezing calloused fingers around them. Midoriya flinches, twisting his body to pin Mic's arm against his torso with his elbow, pressing harder when Mic pinches and tugs his nipple in response.

It's a mistake. With his arm bent Mic easily shoves him down against the bench, where he fucks him much, much harder. Midoriya's back arches, eyes rolling back as Mic pounds brutally into him now that he’s securely braced against something. He releases his arm, but Midoriya's not of a mind to make use of it, clutching at the wood underneath him until his knuckles turn white.

Mic's hands are right next to his. He's keeping him pinned down with his body, panting and grunting just behind his head as he snaps his hips fervently. Midoriya hates how well their bodies conform to each other.

Each of Midoriya's moans has an edge of protest. His cunt is throbbing, slick running down his thighs. He feels nauseous as he realizes he might actually come from this, from Present Mic—his teacher—cornering and fucking him like an animal.

He's so nauseated. The sensations overwhelm his body. Mic's thrusts jostle his insides. The stress of everything is—

He heaves, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the bench. His cunt tightens so hard around Mic’s cock that his piercings dig painfully into the walls of his cunt.

And Mic comes. Mic comes inside him, moaning against his neck and wrapping his arms around his waist, bucking into him as he releases his seed. At this, Midoriya retches again, his vomit flowing over the edge of the bench and splattering onto the floor and Mic whimpers pleasantly, forehead pressed against Midoriya's back as his body inadvertently milks his cock dry.

They stay like that for a while, Midoriya laying across the bench with Mic curled around him, both panting hard. He trembles, head pressed into his arm so that he's not laying in his own puke. Any trace of that building orgasm is gone, and he's not even sure whether he came or not. He’s too exhausted to cry like he wants to.

Mic pulls out, releasing a hot flood that runs down his thighs. Midoriya slowly sinks to the floor until he's sitting, head still buried in his arms upon the bench. His cunt feels quite different; irritated and sore, and... stretched out. An awful reminder.

"Fuck," Mic hisses, "that was good."

Midoriya doesn't even flinch.

He hears shifting fabric, then a zip. "Get cleaned up and let's head back to the dorms."

The idea is almost laughable. Midoriya doesn't see himself moving for a very, very long time, if ever again. The image of a very tender space, flooded with a sticky white that has a very good chance of ruining his life forever, is burned into his mind.

He hears Mic's boots clacking against the tile, getting further, then the creak of the locker room door.

"Hurry up, or I might decide to come back and ruin your asshole, too."

The door shuts.

That gets him moving.

.

Late, late, late.

Late for curfew. Late for school. Late for his period.

He doesn't want to buy a pregnancy test. He can't be pregnant—he's 15! The universe can't be that cruel. It wouldn't make him deal with that after making him quirkless, after the bullying, after all the villain attacks, after… Mic. Nothing is that cruel. It's too much.

But time drags on. He waits on pins and needles for three more days and it keeps being late and eventually his panic outweighs his mortification at having to walk into a store and buy a pregnancy test.

He stares at the box for hours. He doesn't use it. He's not pregnant—he can't be. So he sets it aside, shoved in the back of a drawer that’s promptly slammed shut.

    He gets out of bed and takes it at 3AM.

.

.

And he cries.

[thirstyforbishiesimagines]

Ok um IM A HUGE DANGEROUS FELLOWS FAN AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! (Fan girling so hard) soooooo i really like your writing and i would love if you could do eugene (i love him so much) or harry (my second favorite he's such an angel) like there trying to have some quality time with reader but keep getting interrupted by the other guys but finally get to be alone and turns saucy i would love this owo

This ended up being saucy throughout the whole fic LOL We have a thirsty MC/Reader for this one 😉Enjoy, gorgeous and thank you for the request x

.

Alone at Last - Eugene x Reader

* image from LucyDreams

Word Count: 1,407

NSFW

Warning: Smut . Profanity (18+)

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.

Finding comfort on Eugene’s shoulder, you had your eyes closed; listening peacefully to the beautiful melody resonating from the piano. It had been a while since you were able to spend quality time together and as the days went by, you began to crave for it… for him… all of him. So of course, you were ecstatic when your boyfriend had suggested meeting in the music room, your private oasis, for a much-needed break.

“That was amazing, Eugene.” You exclaimed sensuously, eager for his talented fingers to be caressing you instead of the monochromatic keys.

Chuffed, the golden-haired male smiled proudly before gazing into your lustrous (e/c) eyes, “Well, obviously!”

Impatient desire kindled within the depths of your core as you admired his boyishly handsome face, biting your lip subconsciously. It took a lot of willpower for you to resist pouncing on him right then and there.

Impulsively, you placed a hand on his thigh, rubbing gently as your eyelids dropped in a sultry manner. You beamed at him seductively, inching further up the inside of his leg. Longing for intimacy, you didn’t want this rare alone time to go to waste.

Eugene blushed vibrantly and froze, caught off guard by your forwardness. His placid cock began to twitch, growing with excitement beneath his now tight trousers.

Giggling at his reaction, you pecked him on his nose cheekily; maintaining a soft caress between his thighs.

“Did you miss this~?” You cooed against his lips, tantalising his skin with your warm breath.

Snapping out of his daze, Eugene glared at you; a hint of mischief in his blazing amber irises. Keeping his eyes locked onto yours, he guided your hand to his hardened bulge over his pants. Wrapping your fingers around his shaft, you gripped onto him firmly; causing him to gasp lightly.

“What do you think?” He panted breathlessly, leaning in to brush his lips upon your expectant ones - waiting for his embrace.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Startled, you both spun around; letting go of each other in the process as you both gawked at the two men standing between the doorway.

Harry remained by the entrance; face flushed with embarrassment from intruding on your moment of intimacy as Ethan stood next to him, straight-faced as always.

“Ahh… Sorry for interrupting but… umm… Lawrence has called for a meeting.” A flustered Harry stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your owl-like gaze – wide-eyed and stunned.

Ethan stared at the both of you, nonchalant about the situation and simply nodded before walking back down the hallway. Sending you off with an awkward smile, Harry followed closely behind his athletic friend.

Eugene let out an exasperated sigh before standing up from the piano, lacing his fingers around your own.

“Maybe we’ll get some privacy later.”

Pouting, you rose beside him and cuddled up against his arm, “Hopefully.”

.

Tranquil silence surrounded the atmosphere as both you and Eugene patrolled the rooftop that evening. The city beyond the heavy fencing seemed peaceful and the stars above glittered the vast cloudless sky. It was a breathtaking sight and you turned towards your boyfriend, twining your fingers with his.

“Everything looks fine… No signs of zombies lurking near the gate or the schoolyard.” Pulling you into his arms, Eugene gazed hungrily at your parted lips, “Shall we continue where we left off?”

Without hesitation, you threw yourself onto him; grasping the collar of his jacket. Eugene stumbled against the wired fence from your urgency – pinned by your sex-driven form. Your tongues instantly tangled erotically as your lips connected, passionate and greedy.

Together, you slid down to the floor.

Straddling your boyfriend’s lap, you began to grind against his already hardened cock. The head of his length rubbed against your clit; the friction causing your pussy to become wet, aching for penetration. Eugene gripped onto the flesh of your hips, rocking you back and forth in a steady rhythm. You mewled into his mouth as your hands ravished through his light-coloured mane.

BANG!

“AHH!”

Eugene flung you off him as you yelped from the sudden noise coming from the rooftop door.

“I swear… this chick is so damn annoying and clingy! Why do I have to be paired up with her?! She’s such a pain in my…”

Zion had slammed the door open and casually strolled through the entrance looking extremely perturbed. His golden orbs soon fell upon your frozen body lying on the floor before landing on his bewildered friend. He noticed the obvious bulge in Eugene’s pants and frowned.

Frustrated at getting caught in the act for the second time today, Eugene blasted at the redhead.

“For crying out loud, Zion! Ever heard of knocking?” He quickly yanked his jacket down to cover his crotch.

“The fuck? This is a public area, dude! There’s a time and place, you know?!”

As the two friends bickered, you stood up gingerly and briskly dusted the dirt off your clothes. Your face was burning crimson and you made haste towards the door – slinking away, embarrassed once more.

.

After the last meeting and dinner had ended, you trudged back to the comfort of your room – disappointingly alone. Riddled with sexual tension, you wondered whether to sneak your way towards your Eugene’s room or force yourself to stay put and deal with your pent-up frustration on your own.

Deciding on the latter, not wanting to risk bumping into the others again, you changed out of your daily attire and slipped under your knitted blanket in nothing but your panties and tee. Closing your eyes, you slipped your hand down past the cotton trim of your underwear and began to tease your clitoris; all the while fantasising about Eugene’s tongue lapping at every crevice of your sex. You could imagine his soft hair tickling the insides of your thighs as you bucked your pelvis into his gorgeous face; his tongue darting in and out of your slit.

Soft moans escaped your o-shaped lips as you skimmed your fingers down to your slick hole and then up again, coating yourself with your essence. You fastened your pace, stimulating your swollen bud – attempting to relieve yourself before bed.

“Mmm… Eugene…”

“Yeah?”

Your eyes sprung open towards the cocky voice, and there stood the blonde; leaning his shoulder against the door frame with his arms folded over his chest - a smug devilish grin on his face.

“Oh my goodness, Eugene! Don’t scare me like that!” A rosy tint crept upon your cheeks as you glared at him, your hand still hidden within your panties.

Closing the door behind him, he made his way towards you; taking his clothes off in the process. His unzipped pants hanging off his hips, Eugene knelt down before you and gave you a small nod of his head, gesturing for you to sit up.

Smirking at your lover, you threw the blanket off to the side – revealing yourself to him. Eugene hooked his fingers on either side of your panties and slowly peeled them off your legs. His breath hitched as he watched you continue to pleasure yourself with fiery carnal eyes; his cock throbbing under the constraints of his slacks.

He hovered over your provocative form and ran his tongue along the curves of your lips. You gasped softly as yours tangled with his own in a dirty, salacious dance.

A string of saliva bridged between your lips as Eugene pulled away, stripping the rest of his clothing off.

“Just so you know, we’re not sleeping tonight.”

You smiled lasciviously at his words and your lips met once more in a heated and desperate kiss – no longer able to contain the desires that had been building up throughout the day. Moments later, he had your legs out wide. His hands grasped both your knees drawing them to your shoulders as he sheathed his shaft inside of your warm supple cunt; grinding himself at the hilt and stretching your pussy walls with his girth. You let out a breathless sigh as he pumped his cock in and out of you vigorously – the sound of your wetness filling the midnight air.

Eugene fucked you over and over, allowing your inhibitions to run free until dawn - making up for lost time. As the morning rays warmed your heaving forms, you cuddled happily together under the comfort of your blanket – completely spent, satisfied and overwhelmingly relaxed.

.

.

x mod bambi

[sambarvadai]

#7: ooh la la spill the drama sis

posted on 30 nov 2019

hi, long time no see. it’s been a hectic week. we had our drama club’s end-year-production, and i started on my internship. this post will be about my somewhat complicated relationship with theatre so buckle in for the ride! this is going to be a really long post sorry i have a lot of feelings about this

(in case you haven’t already realised this is an EXTREMELY self-indulgent blog haha)

so! four years ago (god has it been that long) when i joined drama club, i was so excited. i nearly wasn’t going to get in because i had missed the audition date, so i cried late into the night, texted my senior about it, and got the reply that no worries, audition dates had been extended due to the overwhelming response. phew. i auditioned, i said the monologue too fast that the panel was left blinking, i tried to make friends in the audition room (i don’t remember any of them). i got through. i was so happy. it was the best best experience.

my new batchmates were… interesting. they were cool. we all liked to sing at the most random times. we were so extra. now that i think about it, i haven’t actively recalled these memories in so long. i can’t remember half of them, but they must’ve been good times because i remember waking up on mondays and thursdays – drama club practice days – pumped and ready to go. the seniors were a big part of this. every practice session, they’d come in, full of energy, and dazzle us with how much they could show with one movement on stage. they taught us the basics of vocal projection (I SHAT A BABY/I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE), spatial awareness, ensemble awareness, and teamwork. they made sure to get to know us properly, learn our names, be our seniors. they were amazing.

i remember the productions we did that year. we ran around under the stairs before production, writing notes on bags and karaoke-ing, sleeping and eating. we told stories of the girl who had been crushed by the stairs, now a benevolent spirit who blessed us before every performance. we wore our shirts inside out, tags sticking out, because a senior told us our shirts had to be ALL BLACK. NO PRINT. (we later found out this was not meant seriously, but oh well.) once, we traipsed down one of the most affluent parts of town wearing our shirts like that, on the hunt for some ice to cool the drinks. my fingers froze by the time we got back to school (because there was no bag big enough to carry the ice) and i had to dunk them in running water to thaw them out. we were backstage, having the time of our lives, peeking through the hole in the curtain, mouthing alone to the lines said on stage that we had heard countless times in rehearsals. we cheered when the audience laughed. we bit our tongue so we wouldn’t curse when someone inevitably put the block down too loudly or got caught in the light. our batch was the only batch of first-years who cried when our fourth-years (the graduating batch) left, because they had made such an impact on us. it really looked like we were going to be one of the better batches.

it really looked like joining drama club – and theatre – was going to be one of the best decisions of my life, because of how much fun i had. i learnt about the processes that went behind-the-scenes, which made me appreciate every theatre show i went to after that even more. i

year 2 came, and with it, a competition that would suck out my life. for the purposes of this post, let’s call it abc. abc was a really prestigious competition – it was difficult to get into, and it was difficult to survive it. survive, meaning go through it with your sanity intact. it meant long, long hours cooped up in a corridor high up, inhaling spray paint fumes and sprawling on the dusty floor. it meant hashing and rehashing ideas and thrashing out team squabbles and pain and suffering. i mean, it was a great, character-building experience, but i’m told that i became so much of a dick during that time simply because of the stress. abc also took up much of my free time, so i couldn’t meet up with my other friends during breaks because i would always be busy.

the toil was not without its rewards, though. we got regional champs and placed 5th worldwide and won a really prestigious award for creativity, one of the few teams to ever win it in our division. but during that time, i felt nothing except passiveness (is this a word). i felt a sense of distance, that it wasn’t me who had won it. and it was partly true. toward the end of it, my enthusiasm for the competition had died down from a raging bonfire to a tiny matchstick flame snuffed out by an errant gust of wind. i just… gave up. i didn’t contribute as much. i should’ve felt guilty, but i couldn’t muster up anything.

what does this competition have to do with drama? well, because i was involved in abc, i couldn’t contribute as much to my drama club’s mid-year recital-thing. i was relegated to the props and sets team, where i met my favourite senior ever. we spent a lot of time in there, and it felt great. although all we did was just talk and do jackshit, it was fun to be in that tiny space, trying out makeup and talking about sherlock.

abc did affect my relationship with my batchmates, though. the rest of the teams in abc had my team-mates who somehow bonded with their team and loved their team, but i was the odd one out. i couldn’t connect to them at all.

fast forward to the end-of-year production, where i was in props and sets again. this time, it was slightly different because a teacher tagged along with us for every excursion we did to gather supplies and draw inspiration. that production was set in a bookshop, so we hopped around singapore looking for cool bookshops. it was fun, and i got to know that teacher a lot better. i’m still relatively close to her now. my batchmate, though, fell out with that teacher. i’m not entirely sure what happened, but it was weird.

year 3 was such a big mess, and it was wholly my fault. i was given the position of being in charge of props and sets, and i did a colossal screw-up. none of the sets were ready, none of the props were procured in time, the full-dress rehearsal was just accusations after accusations. i remember being backstage in the toilet washing up all the makeup brushes after full-dress rehearsal, and i could hear the seniors really really talking shit about me. it was cathartic, in a way, to hear everything i knew but hadn’t fully internalised. it was similar to abc, in that i had fully given up even before fighting. my rep was pretty damaged after that.

the end of year production was when things fully fell apart. i didn’t know anyone in my batch anymore (except maybe for one person?). another person whom i had been quite close to also drifted away. it was really, really shitty – there’s not much to say about it at all.

bUT. not all hope was lost. what i didn’t get in drama club at school, i found through something else. around march, i saw an online flyer for a youth-created theatre show. i auditioned. i got a part in the ensemble. and it was, hands down, one of the best decisions i made in my life. see, this online flyer was from a senior in drama club whom i had never met before, but was somehow following on instagram. so in a way, drama club was responsible for my so-called rebirth into drama.

that experience really taught me a lot. for starters, the way they handled everything was so professional. the props and sets team started work three months before the production and handpainted sets and built actual moving platforms out of wood. the publicity team actually got one of their photographer friends to take high quality photos and videos. the songs. oh, where do i start. the songs were full, a-grade broadway musical material, with motifs for each of the characters and fully realized emotional arcs. every single person working on the production was so wired and energetic and passionate. backstage felt like year 1 – all the excitement of cheering when something great happened on stage.

maybe it was god telling me to not give up on theatre so easily, to give it a second chance. maybe it was god telling me that i hadn’t lost my love for working hard to put up something on stage. maybe it was a sign that all i needed was a change of people. at any rate, i made so many new friends and learned so much about performance. it really changed me.

as i went into year 4, my final year, my feelings were mixed. i didn’t feel like a senior. i didn’t feel like i had any of the expertise or weight my seniors held when they were in our position. moreover, our drama club had merged with the chinese drama club, meaning that we had to adopt an entirely new set of practices and traditions. i kicked my year off by auditioning for the chinese new year skit. guess what? i got a main role – a chinese-speaking role.

i learn chinese as a third language, so it was really quite interesting to figure out how to perform chinese rather than just say it. all my co-actors were younger than me – a nice turn from everyone being older than me in the external theatre prod in year 3 – and it was a wonderful opportunity to get to know my juniors. sometimes, i didn’t want to go to rehearsal so much that i cried. but when i got to rehearsal, suddenly all the reservations i had went away and i fully immersed myself in the craft. being around the kids and hugging them when they felt down and cheering them up made me feel like i was properly slipping into my role as a senior. it was really a turn of fate.

of course, around end-feb, i performed for my youth theatre thing again. it still felt as good as it did the first time, and was a space for me to grow beyond just a skit performed in the school hall.

around april was our biannual mid-year recital thing, same as year 2. this time, though, i was selected for the main role (again!). i’m ashamed to say that i didn’t try quite as hard as i could have; didn’t allow myself to properly connect to my character. see, my character was a father trying to grapple with the loss of his mother, and the play was about how this affected his relationship with his daughter. it was a difficult role, mainly because he didn’t respond the way i would have if (touchwood) something happened. i didn’t allow myself to actually consider what i would do, i didn’t go down that line far enough to examine my own emotional responses and relate them to my character, because i was scared of what i’d find. anyway, the process was really rushed. we didn’t explore any of the characters’ backstories during rehearsals, which made it even harder to play them. we changed stage directions and cues barely a day before performance. the props and sets team were all super stressed. it was a mess, as usual, but we somehow pulled together in the end.

i should say, i’m really quite grateful that my batchmates (who were the directors) gave me the opportunity to be in such a big role. they trusted me to carry it off and to perform it well. i don’t know if i lived up to their expectations, but i hope i wasn’t too much of a burden on them.

next! the end of year for year 4. it was finally our turn to write, direct, produce, and act in our own play. we started the process around august, and we did shit out a script, but the script was rejected and we had to come up with an entirely new plot nine days before the performance. i was supposed to be one of the script-writers, and i did do my part in writing the first script, but the writing of the second script coincided with my chinese exam (see previous post) so i couldn’t help out much with that. i didn’t really feel an attachment toward the play, and honestly thought it wouldn’t even happen.

on the day itself, as we were rehearsing, something strange happened. i felt a bit of that wonder as we lounged backstage waiting for our scene. i felt a bit of that thrill as we gossipped about boys, same as we did in year 1. i was talking to people i literally hadn’t properly talked to in two years, and it was strangely comforting. of course, things went wrong as they always did – the transformer broke in the middle of rehearsal and we were left wondering if we would even have proper spotlights and stagelights to perform with, but it got fixed in the end. a prop was torn, but they taped it up and made it look laminated.

in the end, as we performed our play to a huge crowd who screamed, gasped and cheered for us, i felt like my journey in drama club had come to a good end. not a great end, where our batch sorted out our differences and actually hugged and was one big happy family, but an ending that we all worked for. i got notes and hugs from juniors, telling me i was a great senior, and all i could think was, ‘thank you, i don’t know what i did to deserve this.’ maybe i had grown up even without realising it.

so you’ve sat through 2.3k worth of word vomit, and you’re wondering what’s the endgame. i think the point i want to make here is this: drama was my one constant throughout the four years of my time in this school. it had seen me at my best and my worst, in all its various forms. it exposed me to an entirely new way of performing art. and for all the flaws in how i experienced it, it taught me so much, and was my safe space.

in these four years i’ve gained and lost in unequal measure. maybe i’ve lost more than i have gained, maybe i wasn’t the greatest person to be around. but in the end, i’m struggling to remember every single tiny perfect imperfection. i can’t recall so many memories, but i remember the feelings i felt. yeah, my batch wasn’t the most bonded, but on stage, we made it work. we pulled up our socks and showed the world that hey, it is possible to put something together in nine days. yeah, i wasn’t the best senior, but i was a good senior, and hopefully some people will miss me. yeah, sometimes i hated going for drama club, but that doesn’t negate all the good times i had. yeah, maybe it wasn’t the best choice of extra-school club, but it was only because of it that i was able to go for that external theatre thing that changed my life.

i’ve been learning to take my bad experiences with a grain of salt. i might’ve had shitty encounters, but they’ve led me to amazing places and great discoveries. i think that’s what i want to say – that one john lennon quote that goes: everything will be okay in the end. if it’s not okay, it’s not the end. and it did turn out okay, even if it was in a relative sense. i don’t know if i’ve articulated my feelings or experiences properly here, but i tried my best. i’ve ended my journey here, made my peace with the fact that i may not be on best terms with my batchmates, but at least we put aside our differences to work together. i had an experience, and that’s all it is.

and i’d do it all over again.

thanks for reading! anbudan, noon xoxo this post was brought to u by the 2.7k word club B))

[alleiradayne]

Dead or Alive

Summary: Sam stops in at his favorite watering hole outside Reno. Square Filled: Biker AU Warnings/Tags: Fluff, flirting, mentions of sex Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester/Natalie Murphy Word Count: 2,341 A/N: For @spnfluffbingo2019​​, this fills the square Biker AU. Thank you, as always, to @atc74​​ for beta’ing. And as an aside, this turned out to be one of my favorite one-shots for Fluff Bingo. Song: Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi

The roadhouse outside Reno wavered in the distant haze of desert heat as though a mirage, calling to him. But Sam knew that watering hole. That sanctuary, the only one for a hundred miles in any direction, welcomed the road weary and travelworn, real as the boots on his feet. 

A long morning had led to a scuffle in a motel. He’d lost track of Dean again, but he wasn’t much for longer rides any more. And Sam wasn’t about to give up the open road or his ride. Dean preferred his baby, the Impala. That was fine. Sam preferred his bike, its graveyard green mist paint on a field of black. 

As the roadhouse solidified in the distance, Sam torqued the throttle and shifted into low gear, a burst of speed hurtling him towards the bar. The roar of the exhaust drowned out any other sounds around him, and that was the way he preferred it. Just him and his horses, all one hundred sixty of them pumping out one hundred six foot-pounds of torque. 

The building raced up to meet him in a matter of seconds at that speed, and Sam pulled into the soft dirt lot. But just as he rounded the corner for the shady side of the lean-to, he pulled up short, narrowly missing a line of bikes all neatly packed in a line facing the bar. 

New blood in town. Great.

Finding the last space of good cement left at the end of the line, Sam parked his bike and killed the motor. One long leg swung over the seat, and he stretched his hands high over his head as he removed his helmet. Long hours on a motorcycle rode hard on his joints, but that was a small cost to pay for the freedom of the open road. The freedom to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted. 

As Sam rounded to the front of the bar, he retied his bandana and fixed his hair in the mirror of a nearby bike. After taking a moment to admire the custom paint job—a demon barely dressed with black as night leathery wings, ample breasts, impossibly wide hips, and a come-hither gaze that rivaled most porn—Sam headed inside the bar. 

Not a soul paid him any kind as he pushed through the door, the bell overhead twinkling its bright chime. The bar itself had space for fifty men, but no one stood at the shiny aged oak. Not even the bartender. 

Everyone sat crowded around a table upon which sat a young woman in leather riding gear and denim, her bandana around her neck. Long black hair flowed in waves down her shoulders as she leaned back on her hands and her chin raised with laughter. That lilting song called to Sam as though she were a Siren and he a sailor out on the open ocean, her prey. Helplessly drawn to her voice, her presence, Sam drifted towards the table subconsciously, unaware of his moving feet. The men that sat around her appeared nothing short of her thrall, her dedicated pack. 

At the last second, Sam course corrected for the bar, but not before his gaze connected with the woman. Though she did her best to hide it, Sam knew without a doubt she had taken stock of him head to toe and had marked him. 

But for death or otherwise, Sam couldn't be sure. 

The bartender materialized from the back of the bar as Sam approached, a fresh case of Steveweisers in his hands. Haggard, he appeared old enough to be Sam's father, so many miles on his motor and too many left to go. He nodded in acknowledgment as he set the case near a short refrigerator on the back wall of the bar, then held up a hand, silently asking for a second’s respite. 

“Take your time, no rush,” Sam said as he sat on a stool. 

A subtle shift in the air beside him piqued his senses. Someone from the rowdy group approached him from behind, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled, standing on end. Every muscle tensed as he readied himself, steeled for the fight of a century, ten on one. A lone wolf against the pack. 

“Hey, Stranger.” 

If Sam had a say, she’d call him that the rest of their days, and he would die a happy man. Over his shoulder he found the petite woman standing behind him, a casual lean of her weight, spine straighter than an arrow, and chin held high. Sam nodded to her as he waved. “Afternoon, miss.” 

She pointed to an empty stool next to him. “Mind if I join you?” 

A polite biker. Few and far between, they were. “Not at all. What can I get you?” 

“Double of Walker Blue, if you’re buyin’,” she said with a wink. 

Sam winced as he dug his wallet out of his pocket. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna clean my pockets out on the first date?” 

Her laughter filled the bar once more as she threw back her head and clutched her stomach. “I was just pullin’ your—” 

“Two doubles of Walker Blue, Bobby,” Sam interjected, addressing the bartender. 

Bobby stood from his stocking and reached for a dark blue bottle on the highest shelf of the back wall. “Celebratin’?” 

Eyes like a hawk, the woman surveyed their interaction with great scrutiny. She followed his hand as Sam slipped a hundred-dollar bill across the bar, then flicked to Bobby where he poured out their generous drinks. When he slid the glass tumblers across the oak grain, Sam handed one to his drinking partner and toasted. 

“Yeah, we’re celebrating. New friends.” 

The woman grinned as she hefted her glass. “To new friends.” 

Smooth as butter, his whiskey melted in his throat, warming his entire body in a rush of consumption. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” 

A long draw from her glass bobbed her throat, and Sam couldn’t help but stare. Long and sleek, the line of her jaw drew his eyes down, down, down as she drank until he stared at the plunging neckline of her vest displaying her cleavage. 

When she returned her glass to the bar, she held out her hand and said, “Natalie. Natalie Murphy. I run that pack o’ brigands back there.” 

Sam swallowed as he took her hand in his. “Sam Winchester. Loner.” 

A firm shake squeezed his hand as she beamed up at him. “Sam. What a pleasure.” 

He sipped from his drink. “I can assure you, Natalie, the pleasure is all mine,” he said. 

“A gentleman biker,” she mused. “What brings a wolf like yourself ‘round these parts? Not much besides Bobby here for a hundred miles.” 

“Hey—” 

“Love you, Bobby.” 

Bobby smiled from beneath the bar. “That’s my little girl.” 

It was Sam’s turn to side-eye, sensing more than a passing relationship between Natalie and Bobby. “Well, I’ve been stopping in here for years. Since I was a pup. Every couple weeks, my dad would bring us through here on the way to another town. When my dad died, my brother and I made it a point to keep visiting. Keep the geezer on his toes. Right, Bobby?” 

“That’s right, Sammy,” Bobby replied. 

“What about you?” Sam asked as he turned back to Natalie. “You look like you’ve been here a time or three hundred before.” 

Natalie laughed as she swallowed another draw of her drink. “I was practically raised in this damn bar. Can’t remember a time where I wasn’t here damn near every day. Parents died young, I fell in with a rough crowd. But you find family in the strangest places.” 

Bobby’s smiled matched Sam’s. “Ain’t that the truth.” 

Natalie nodded. “Garth and his boys found me hustlin’ one night about three towns over,” she continued. “I thought that was the end. I’d be their plaything for a few weeks, then I’d end up somewhere in the middle of the desert feeding the vultures.” 

A pregnant pause filled the space between them, compelling Sam to speak. “That’s… I’m so sorry you went through that.” 

“Nah,” Natalie said as she waved a dismissive hand. “They took care of me. Garth had been running the group for a while, when it was small. But he wanted me in because he thought I could take over. Grow the brand. And I did. Pack’s a hundred strong now.” 

Relieved, Sam breathed easier. “Glad to hear you found a good group.” 

Natalie leaned closer to him. “You could join us if you want. Wouldn’t need to ride solo ever again,” she paused as she licked her lips and eyed him head to toe and back. “I’d love to ride with you.” 

A twitch of want in his groin strained against his pants. “We talkin’ bikes or beds, honey?” 

Her glass pressed to her lips as she said, “Both.” 

Christ. All she had to do was look at him with those fierce blue eyes. Sam resisted the urge to pin her to the bar and fuck her until his balls ran dry. And if he had read her right, Natalie wouldn’t mind. In fact, she seemed like the kind of gal that would deeply enjoy everything he could give her. Sure, he was tender and kind and sweet. He loved that part about himself; so many people in the world lacked those qualities for one reason or another. But, there was something to be said about sharing a more primal, raw urge with another who reveled in that sort of experience. 

And by the glint in Natalie's eyes, Sam knew without a doubt that she would give him a run for his money. 

“Do you think we'll even make it out the door?” he asked. 

“What, you worried about them?” Natalie replied as she looked back at her table. The men cajoled with one another as they played cards and dice and swilled their beers. A warm smile spread across her lips as she looked upon them so lovingly. “They're a bunch of puppy dogs. Wouldn't harm a fly. 'Specially if I told them not to.” 

Sam drained his drink and shoved his glass across the bar. “Then let's hit the road.” 

Natalie finished her whiskey in one swallow and slipped from her stool. “Where to?” 

As Sam turned for the door, he looked north and pointed. “There’s a motel about an hour and a half away. Been there quite a few times.” 

When Natalie pulled the door aside, every sound in the bar stopped with a record- scratch of chairs on wood. Her pack stood all at once, ready to pounce at the sight of their queen shadowed by an outsider. 

“I'll be back tomorrow, guys,” she started. “Don't wait up.” 

“Have a good time, Murph!” Garth teased. 

“Go get some, baby girl!” Bobby shouted from the bar. 

“Yeah, yeah, shut your pieholes,” Natalie jeered. 

“You take good care of her, son, you hear me?!” Ash called.

“I'll do my best, sir,” Sam said as he followed Natalie into the blazing desert sunshine. 

“If she don’t come back in the morning walkin' funny, I’ll make sure you leave that way!” 

The click of the door shutting punctuated that last jest. “He shouldn’t make idle threats. I have half a mind to go back in there and invite him to join us,” Sam teased. 

Natalie rounded the side of the bar, her bright laughter echoing in the distance. “Careful, Sam. Gabby would take you up on that offer. And not because he's got the hots for me. I watched him eye you up and down the second you walked in the bar.” 

Sam laughed as he stopped beside his bike. “He’s quite the looker, too.” 

“He is. And while I’m not opposed to the idea of fucking a few people in the same  bed, I don’t take my pack mates. Favoritism and all that. Gets messy.” 

“But you want me to join your crew. What then? We don’t get to do this again?” Sam asked as he swung a leg over his bike. 

Natalie approached the motorcycle Sam had admired earlier. “I think I can make an exception for the likes of you.” 

“I'm flattered. And by the way,” he paused as he dropped his gaze between her thighs. “Nice bike.” 

Natalie flipped her head over and gathered her hair in her helmet. Clasped in place, she ensured it secure with a shake. “Thanks. Built her myself, paint and all.” 

“She's hot,” Sam added. 

“Ruby’s been good to me.” Again, she smiled fondly as a gloved hand smoothed the side of the tank. Then she grasped the handle bars and centered her balance. “Shall we?” 

Sam shifted his bike and snapped back his kickstand. A thunderous roar filled the empty desert as their motors ignited with life, hers a loud crackle, and his a deep rumble. With his helmet on and sunglasses in place, he turned to Natalie and found her face shrouded by shades and her bandana over her nose. She gave him a thumbs up, and Sam responded in kind. 

A clunk of gears put him in first, and he twisted into the throttle. Combustion propelled him towards the road, and Natalie followed, the bright whine of her motor hot on his heels. 

Together they drove into the sun as it set, two wandering souls, neither lost nor found, but always searching. And as Sam rode beside her, an easy feeling settled in his chest. He welcomed it, reveled in it without reservation, and as they sped into the great wide open, he thought he could get used to it. 

Maybe he didn't have to go it alone after all. Maybe, with Natalie by his side, leading the pack, he might enjoy the ride like he had never before. And if her lusty gaze had meant anything, he was headed for the ride of a lifetime. 

Bikes and beds, Sam Winchester couldn't wait to ride with Natalie forever. 

Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to reblog, too!

If you want in on any of my tags (Sam/Jared, Dean/Jensen), send me a DM or an ask!

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN FLUFF BINGO MASTERLIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

The Whole Thang:

@atc74​​  @hannahindie​​ @bevans87​​  @meganwinchester1999​​  @plaided-ani-on-hiatus​​  @oneshoeshort​​ @jonogueira​​ @andkatiethings​​ @elfinmox​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ @princessofthefandomrealm​  @just-another-busyfangirl​ @jmekitchens​ @81mysteriouslyme​​ @dolphincliffs​  @seenashwrite​  @canadianspnhunter​  @meowmeow-motherfucker​ @depressed-moose-78 @staycejo1​ @hobby27​  @pretty-fortune​ @mypopculturediva​ @fanfictionjunkie1112​ @sandlee44​ @4llmywr1tings​ @claitynroberts​ @maddiepants​ @scarletluvscas @donnaintx​​ @blackeyedangel9805​​ @rainflowermoon​​ @winchesterprincessbride​  @lazinessisalliknow​​ @the-is13​​ @waywardafgrandma​ @keymology​ @sister-winchesters99​ @amanda-teaches​

Sam’s Sasstresses (Jared):

@morganas-pendragons​ @karouwinchester

[whenimaunicorn]

Can I have #25 - "I'm sorry I'm not what you prayed for" with Finan?

This prompt is just perfect for a Caribbean Era of Piracy AU!!

It could have been beautiful. The waves rolled gently intothe shore, the water a striking, crystal-clear green in the shallows thatsoftly transitioned to a deeper and deeper blue as I looked out into the seemingly-endlesssea. It looked so peaceful now, but I had learned that I could not trust thatcalm. The horizon stretched flat and clear in every direction I looked, today. Wispsof white clouds formed islands up in the sky, but nothing interrupted thedeeper blue of the ocean that surrounded me on all sides.

I had spent the first day walking the perimeter of the beach.I had hoped to reach a settlement of some kind, if I just walked the coast farenough. Someone who could tell me where that terrible storm had left mestranded. But when I reached the wreckage of my own ship again by mid-afternoon,I realized the island I had washed up upon was extremely small, and entirelydeserted.

It would be two weeks before Father might receive word thatmy ship had not reached Kingston. Perhaps the merchants with whom he had bookedmy passage would be missed a little sooner, or perhaps no one expected themurgently enough to care when they did not arrive on time.

I expected no attempt at rescue from my intended husband.

I had discovered only one measure of hope on this desertedisland. Halfway around the other side, a trickling stream of blessed freshwater led me up to a crude shed so dilapidated that I almost missed it. Itsweathered wood was wrapped almost completely in vines, the planks faded by thesalt air to the point of decomposition. There was no telling how recently anyliving soul had touched it. Inside, I found what appeared to be a sailor’ssupply dump – hard tack, casks of rum, coiled ropes and boxes of ammunition.

I waited near it the whole second day, pilfering a little ofthe dry and unsatisfying food, and watching to see if whoever had stored ithere would return.

I did fear who the owners might turn out to be. I had littlechoice, however, but to rely on any living soul that might come across me, andcould only hope for Christian clemency. And yet, I would have to keep my witsabout me. I had been told that unsavory privateers, or outright lawlesspirates, often used tiny islands like these when they needed to make secret landfalls.

I oiled up and loaded one of the pistols I found in thatshack, and took to carrying it at my waist.

It was hard to decide where my best chance of rescue lay –near the wreckage of my ship on the north coast, or at the mysterious supplydrop on the east end. I spend several days hiking back and forth between themboth, watching the sea and splitting my chances.

Near my shipwreck, I had arranged a few planks and branchesinto the word “help” on the beach, and hung the tattered remnants of ourBritish flag from an overhanging tree. I prayed for a naval vessel, or anotherhonest merchant, to pass by close enough to see it, and to launch a search forme if they did not find me sitting by the shore.

Near the supply shack, I was more cautious. I would need toassess the character of any potential rescuers that returned to the island atthat location. I constructed for myself a comfortable little platform on anoutcrop near the stream, from which to watch for any human approach. My chosenlocation caught the breeze just enough to keep the worst of the insects off ofme, and I screened it in with branches after I climbed up each day. I intendedto be able to watch any visitors to this shed for a good long while beforedeciding how to make my presence known to them.

I was drowsing in the afternoon heat almost a week laterwhen I finally heard the stirring of another living soul. The sound of bootscrunching on fallen leaves along the bank of the little stream caused me topull my recumbent body softly forward and peer between the leaves that screenedmy position.

I saw a lone man, of average height, whose complexion toldme he likely hailed from one of the northern countries of Europe. His hair wasdark and thick, the inch-long shock of it standing almost straight up from hisforehead. His full beard was trimmed just below his chin, but it was looking alittle ill-kempt. He did not wear a uniform, but rather a dark thread-bare coatand worn brown boots. In contrast to the carelessness of the rest of hisappearance, the sword at his hip was polished and gleaming. The handle of apistol poked through the gap of his open jacket as he moved.

My rescuer was not to be a soldier, then, as I had prayedfor. The man now hiking up the riverbed beneath my hiding-place might at bestbe a privateer, part of a semi-disgraced crew willing to fight for the Crown inexchange for gold. Or his allegiance could be to the Spanish, which would makethings less easy for me, but not as difficult as my life was about to be ifthis man was a full-on pirate. Then my only chance at getting home might be atransom, in which case I could only pray that I not end up too mistreated beforemy release.

I still had the pistol at my hip. Circumstances mightrequire me to put myself at this man’s mercy, but I did have some measure ofleverage with which to protect myself.

I watched him enter the little shed, striding directly up toit as if he knew exactly what he expected to find there. My heart jumped intomy throat as he disappeared inside. This was my best chance to get the drop onhim, and approach from a position of strength.

I slipped down from my perch as silently as I could manage. Myhand was on the butt of the pistol tucked into my belt, but I decided not to appearto the man with it already pointed at his face. Best to begin with an appeal tohis mercy, in case he was in actuality of a decent sort.

The stranger emerged from the dark doorway of the shed justas I was in sight of the threshold. His eyes widened, and he froze with a sackslung over one shoulder.

“Good day, sir,” I called to him, loud and clear, with astronger voice than I expected to hear out of my fast-pumping lungs. This wassurely the most foolhardy thing I had ever done in my life. But I could seelittle other choice, if I wished to avoid dying of exposure and starvation.

The man seemed to recover his confidence quickly, a shrewdgaze assessing my person as he stepped out into the light, lowering his sack tothe ground as he did. What did he see? My brown braid was loose and unwashed, wispsof sticky hairs clung to my forehead and my once-porcelain skin was surelyruddy from the sun and exertion. My dress was of good quality, but stained, shreddedat the hem and with a nasty tear through one sleeve where it had caught on abranch my first day. Hopefully, he did not immediately notice my pilferedpistol.  

We were now less than ten feet away from each other, and ifI wasn’t careful he’d end up able to draw a weapon on me faster than I couldget mine ready. I would have to think fast. “Good day to you, young lady,” werehis first words, returning my pleasantry. The lilt to his low voice identifiedhim quite clearly as an Irishman. Which did not help me much in determining hisloyalties. “The sight of a fair woman like yourself is certainly an unexpecteddelight. But can I ask what circumstances cause you to find yourself on anisland I had always assumed to be deserted?”

There was nothing to be gained in dissembling. “My shipcaught a storm at sea.” I wrung my hands, and looked demurely down at them tocheck how close the gesture had brought them to the handle of my gun. I squeezedone of my nails between finger and thumb, trying to look nervous anddespairing. “I am afraid I was the only survivor.” I looked up at him frombeneath my lashes. “I prayed for rescue every day. Some decent, Christian manto return me safely to my home.”

His countenance did not quite soften in the way that I hadhoped. If anything, he looked just a little sick. “Such a terrible trial you’vehad. Please, come with me. I’ll get ye back to my ship. My mates and I can takecare of you.”

He took a step toward me, but there was something thatunsettled me in his demeanor. His movements were jerky, like he felt conflictedsomehow in his chosen course of action. I stepped back, fast, and my fingersfound a grip on my pistol. The pistol that, as far as I knew, was actually his.

The stranger’s eyes followed the movement of my hand. Hewent still, and slowly spread his empty hands wide. “You gonna use that, lass?”

This was my only chance to claim the advantage. “I-I am not certain,”I bleated, feigning a feminine weakness, and drew it anyway.

The man before me barely flinched. “I understand,” he saidgently, lifting his hands farther away from his own weapons. “You don’t knowme.”

“I can’t trust you,” I said, dropping the lost maiden act,letting him see the real strength of my soul. “I need you, though.”

“Aye?” the man asked, voice going sharper too. “And what isit ye need me for?”

I tilted my head. “I have no other way off this island.” Wasthat not obvious?

“Sure you don’t,” the man scoffed, an edge of bitterness nowharshening his tone.

I pressed my brows together. “Of course I do not? As I justexplained—”

“Yes, yes,” the man interrupted, shaking his empty hands irritablyat me. “Shipwreck, only survivor, all that rubbish. Perfect way to get Finanthe Agile to let his guard down, throwing a beautiful and helpless maiden inhis path.” He shook his head as I struggled to process what he was saying tome. “You really do look a Lady. Hold yourself like one, too. He must have goneto the most expensive brothel in Port Royal for ye. How much did you cost him,by the way?”

“I beg your pardon?” I sputtered. Was he implying I was animposter, and a whore, at that? “Who on earth are you talking about?”

The man apparently called Finan let an irreverent smilecrack his face. “That foul, barnacle-encrusted arseling Haeston, of course. Thinkinghe could catch us in an ambush. But Uhtred’s much too clever to fall for a ploylike this.”

I was holding the pistol with both hands, arms locked in astraight line aimed at Finan’s chest. But I could see they were starting towobble. “It’s not like that,” I said, an edge of pleading creeping into myvoice. “I don’t know who any of those people are. I had passage on a merchantvessel. I’m the Governor’s daughter.” His face said he believed nothing I wassaying, but I kept talking anyway. “I’m not lying. The ship and I washed up onthe north shore of the island; I can take you there, and show you.”

“Darlin’,” Finan drawled, “if you’re just an innocent victimhere, then why are ye holding a gun to my head?”

I almost screamed in frustration. “Because for all I know,you are one of these terrible pirates yourself.”

He cocked his head, indulgent. “And if that were to be thecase, just what, then, was yer plan?”

I flicked the pistol toward the beach in an imperiousgesture, trying to look calm and in charge. “I need you to take me to yourship. Entirely unmolested.”

He actually laughed at me, though I thought I detected alittle sympathy in his condescension. “And what do you think would happen next?If I am one of these pirates that you fear, and you end up surrounded by ‘em,alone in the middle of the ocean? You think you can sleep with that pistolstill steady in yer hand?”

I wanted to break right there, but held strong. “Then all Ican hope,” I said, masking the hitch in my voice with a quick swallow, “is thateven pirates are God-fearing men, with enough Christian decency to help out agood woman in need.”

“You keep assuming we are Christian,” a new voice saidunexpectedly, from behind my left ear. I whirled, pistol and all, toward thesound, and caught a brief sight of a young man having crept up behind me. Thestrange look of him was disorienting enough: half his head was shaved, showingan outlandish tattoo adorning his scalp, and his eyes were blackened around thelids. I think I screamed at the sight of him. Before I could gather my wits,one of his bare arms came at me, and he knocked me to the ground.

The impact to my head made my vision go dark. I felt theyoung man climb on top of me, holding me down; heard the crunch of Finan’sboots as he came closer and crouched down beside me. “I’m sorry I’m not whatyou prayed for,” he said softly, and then rough hands bound my wrists.

 * * *

 “I found nothing in the jungle, between the shipwreck andhere,” the strange-looking young man said as he rowed the little boat I now foundmyself in, out to the large vessel anchored in the bay. His back was to me, andhis tone suggested he was trying to be quiet, but the sound was not too low formy ears to pick up even over the rush of the sea breeze.

My thoughts raced, picking over the implications of hiswords. So he had been scouting, while Finan spoke with me. Which meant Finan hadalready known about my shipwreck while I was pleading with him for help. Why,then, would he be so skeptical?

The boy with the evil look about him seemed to share my opinion.“No evidence of anyone else on this island. Do you still think she is a trick?”

Finan looked over the rower’s head at me, seated in anundignified bundle on the floor at the prow of the rowboat. I could have fit onthe board next to Finan, but he didn’t seem to trust me enough for that. Mypistol was now tucked into his belt, beside his own. “We can’t be certain,Sihtric.” He heaved a heavy sigh, and looked away, toward the ship ahead of us.“But she might—” the breeze gusted, taking away a few of his words “—who shesays she is.”

Sihtric shook his head. “A strange coincidence, then. Butwho can claim to know the minds of the gods?”

Finan’s answering smile held no mirth. He nodded toward theship, which we were closing in on now. “The only thing that matters is what hemakes of it, anyway.” But Finan did not look as confident as his words. Hepeered down on me for a long while after that, thinking hard but asking no morequestions.

A/N: What do you all think? I have a few plot ideas but I need a little help gluing them together. So hit me up if this opening scene gives you any ideas for what you want to happen next!

TLK taglist: @ceridwenofwales @oddsnendsfanfics@laketaj24 @thewildbeauty @geekandbooknerd @therealcalicali @tiyetiye @pokeasleepingsmaug@goldentailedmermaids @sifshoney @titty-teetee  @savismith @ariellostatci @perfectus-in-morte @axiseeu12@kingofshadowalkers

[buckys-beach]

A Shelby Caught Out With A Solomons

PART ONE   PART TWO   PART THREE  PART FOUR

Imagine: Your secret relationship with the infamous London gangster was going extremely well. Well, as good as it could be considering you were a Shelby. But it all comes crashing down once your brothers discover you on your knees in front of him.

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: A bit of smut, swearing (obvs) and name calling :(

“Fuckin’ hell luv what you doing’ here?” the gruff voice of the infamous London gangster boomed throughout his office

“It’s a surprise Alf” your grin spread from ear to ear, clearly excited to see your boyfriend, or your secret boyfriend.

Suddenly Alfie jumped off of his chair to encase you into your favorite pair of arms. His beard scratched away at your ear, but you didn’t mind. You treasured moments like these with Alfie, as you didn’t get them all that often, especially since you live in Birmingham and especially since you were a Shelby.

“As you know, you have a meeting with my three darling brother’s tomorrow, so I made up an excuse for them to bring me with them so I could see my favorite gangster” You explained

“(Y/N) don’t be saying that too loud or else Tommy will hear ya and get sad that he’s not your favorite” He joked, “Now get that arse over here and give me a proper kiss”

Almost running over to him your lips collide together in desperation to feel one another again, you instantly melt at the familiar feeling which automatically sends butterflies whirling in your stomach. Alfie deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue across your lip asking for entrance, which of course you grant without a second thought. A small grunt escaped the bearded man, your hands work up to his hair, gently massaging, knowing full well how much he liked it, you smirked into the kiss.

“Luv, look what you’re doin to me, Alfie fuckin Solomons like putty in a fuckin gypsy’s hand” He muttered. This in turn rewarded him a hard slap on the side of his head.

“Hey, you know I don’t like it when you call me that!” you protested, a frown forming on your once glowing face.

“I know I know, just kidding I was, God you can’t make a joke now a day” he exasperates. But you two soon crack a smile at each other, unable to stay mad at him at any time, which was an extremely annoying quality you found that Alfie had, love just radiating from both of you.

“I love you Alf, and I bloody missed you” You admit shyly, neither of you were that good at sharing emotions, but surprising your relationship had blooming well over the last year. Although you did spend weeks upon weeks apart, you two made the most of time when you eventually got to see each other.

“I love ya too pet, and you’re here now so no more whining, and no more hitting. You’ve got quite a swing on ya, that fucking hurt” He grumbled, holding his hand to his head in exaggeration.

Bringing your lips to his ears, you whisper “Well, I suppose I have an idea to make up for that”

His face suddenly hardens, along with other parts of his body, eyes cloud with lust and mind flooding with images of you on your knees

“Well, I’m not sure what you could do to make me forget about the pain, because that really really hurt luv” He played along, a cheeky grin adorned on that beautiful face, even though both of you knew full well that Alfie Solomons could get shot and not even grimance.

“Oh trust me sweet, you’ll forget all about it” You knew Alfie loved it when you were confident, and the thought of any of his workers walking in, hell even hearing what you two were doing only egged him on further. Though your relationship was very much a secret, Alfie’s men were an exception to that rule. It’s not that he trusted any of them, Alfie only trusts you and he makes that clear almost every single day, it’s just that they could only imagine the kind of torture Alfie would reward them with if they spilled your repeated visits to his office and his house to the rest of the Shelby’s.

You gently pushed Alfie back into his chair, he fell into with a small huff, but quickly sat up straight, staring into your eyes, anticipation coursing through his veins. Reconnecting your lips, but not for long, as you soon descended onto the your knees and under the desk in front of you boyfriend.

The cold sensation of the floor hit sending shivers up your spine, being able to already imagine the red marks that will stain them for the next couple of days. But you quickly stopped worrying about your brothers finding out and set on the task of giving your boyfriend the best blow job of his life to show him just how much you love and missed him.

Gently you glided your fingers from the bottom of his legs to his firm thighs, which never failed to get you rather flustered. Your fingers left ghosted patterns across the top of Alfie trousers, but never touching him where he truly desired.

His breathing was already becoming deeper and heavier, impatient eyes bore into yours, signaling that he was more than ready to have your lips wrapped around him after almost 3 weeks a part.

Giving in to those puppy dog eyes you began unzipping the man’s trouser, where he finally sprang to attention. A sigh of relife slid past the lips of your lovers and you urgently jumped into action.

Sliding your tongue from the base to the tip, circling it when you eventually reached the top, never missing a beat and never wavering your eye contact with Alfie

“Fuckin’ hell luv I sure have missed you” He moaned, roughly his hands grabbing handfuls of your hair, which would inevitably make it look like a birds nest but you could deal with that later.

Just as you’re about to take him all onto your mouth, a knock on the door sounds. Despite this you carry on, Ollie would catch on that you two were very much busy and leave you guys alone, as he always did, but the knocking this time was persistent and rather annoying.

“Fuck off Ollie I’m fuckin busy” Alfie shouted in frustration, ready to shove the rest of his cock down your throat.

Luckily if Ollie did come in you would be completely concealed from view, as you were on your tucked away under Alfie’s desk in front of him, so you continued working you mouth up and down him like it was the last time you would.

“Sorry to interrupt Alfie, but it’s important” A voice cut through the silence of the room, your actions suddenly halted, that was certainly not Ollies voice.

“Hi Alfie” Two other voices called to the gangster, both yours and Alfie’s actions completely faltered. Those voices didn’t hold either Alfie’s black country accent, or even the wishy washy accent that the Londoners had. No, this accent was identical to your own and those voices belong to your older brothers. Panic begins to pump through your body, you were in a room with your brothers and a dick was in your mouth.

Without making the usual pop sound, you slid you lips from Alfie, gently tucking himself back into his trousers for him, knowing that if he did it would draw their attention. Silently thanking Alfie for buying this ridiculously sized desk, which was now a blessing.

“You guys are fuckin early, not saying I’m not happy to see my favorite gypsies, but I was in the middle of somethin’” Alfie jumped back into form, standing from his chair reaching across to shake each of their hands, with the hands he had just a second ago tangled in their beloved sister’s hair. You pushed the thought aside, kneeling like a statue.

‘Okay this isn’t that bad, I’ll just stay like this until their meeting is over, then Alfie and I can carry on seeing each other and Tommy, Arthur and John could carry on thinking I just take regular visits to London to see our dear sister’ you thought.

“Sorry about that Mr. Solomons, but some other business has come up back in Birmingham. So we will be leaving straight after this” Tommy grunted back, the three taking a seat in front of your boyfriend’s desk, not even a meter away from you. But at this statement you perked up, what business?

“Well what the fuck is going on there that you had to interrupt me for?” Alfie grunted, half wanting Tommy to answer because he knew how crazy your mind must be whirling with immediate worst case scenarios, and the other half because the Shelby brothers interrupted his precious alone time with you.

“Nothing for someone like you to worry about” John replied, you could only imagine the glare Tommy was sending him for talking to Alfie like that.

“What my brother means is, that it’s just some family business. We’ve just found out our dear sister, who often travels down to London to presumably stay with our other sister, hasn’t actually visited her for the past couple of months. So as you can imagine we are concerned about our little sister’s whereabouts” Tommy explained, trying to reason with Alfie to get him into a good mood.

Your heart dropped at this statement, fuck. They knew that you were keeping a secret, and you knew that they wouldn’t stop interrogating you until they found out the true reason for you to lie to them. But if they found out the truth then they, especially Tommy, would forbid you from coming to London ever again! All your family wanted to keep you from the family business, they all decided that you were too innocent to stomach what went on behind closed doors. Even if this at first bothered you, you now thought of it as a relief. As what they didn’t know was that you were very much hands on in Alfie’s business, so as long as you didn’t know any secrets of your families, then you couldn’t betray either businesses.

“She sounds like a fuckin’ handful. But if yer like I’ll ask around the men and see if they’ve heard anything about the infamous Shelby sister running around London. What’s her name again?” Smooth Alfie, asking for my name and pretending like you weren’t moaning it only 5 minutes ago.

“(Y/N) Shelby” Arthurs voice answers, this slightly broke your heart as you’ve always been closest to the oldest Shelby, him acting as a sort of father figure to you. You weren’t the youngest out of the Shelby bunch, but being in between Ada and Finn, you were one of the youngest. Which meant each of you brother, even Finn, had that instinctive protectiveness to keep you away from any danger they deemed necessary.

Imagining the look on your families faces if they discover that you’ve been fooling around with once enemy and now ally Alfie Solomons, would break their hearts. Surely they’d drag you back home and keep you inside the betting shop for the rest of your life and probably come back up to London to do the unimaginable to Alfie for corrupting their little sister. It came to your attention just how important it was that this relationship was kept hidden, at least until your and Alfie’s relationship was ready to be told.

Unfortunately, the spider that decided to crawl up your arm did not get the vital message, as you felt the little legs race up your arm. The blood drained from your face, once again, and without even thinking a screech left your lips immediately jumping from beneath the desk, shaking around like a lunatic trying to get the buggar off of you.

Your brothers automatically drew their guns to point at the new person who was hiding in the room, but all three of their actions wavered upon meeting the familiar figure of their little sister.

Alfie’s composure immediately sobered, knowing that there was no way this would end well, so he trying to diffuse your screams, took you by the arms, halting your frantic jumping.

“Luv it’s gone now, you probably bloody killed the poor thing” He tried to soothe you, the simple pet name just rolling off his tongue. This gesture calmed you, but caused all three of your brothers to freeze.

“(Y/N/N?)” Arthur was the first to speak.

This brought you back to the situation which you now found yourself in. Almost getting whiplash in how fast your head snapped up to meet the eyes of your brothers, you could only imagine what sort of state you were in. Messy hair, red knees and swollen lips, it was abundantly clear as to what you were doing to the bearded man standing before them, you shook off Alfie’s touch and edged towards your family.

“What the fuck is going on?” John was next to speak, a look of anger was washed upon his face, eyebrow creasing as proof. You glanced at Arthur, who just had pure confusion plastered on his face. Reluctantly you turned to look into Tommy’s eyes, the brother which you did your most best to impress, unlike usual, there wasn’t that blank stare in his eyes. No, you would have preferred that stare, anything other than the look of pain and betrayal that was situated there now.

You tried your best to come up with an explanation, but the words just failed.

Alfie looked at you, seeing the person he loved most in the world in this sort of pain, he shrugged off the hurt he initially felt when you brushed off his touch and decided to say something.

“Well, at least ya know where she is now” His failed attempt to diffuse the situation, of course only made things worse.

Arthur suddenly pulled out his gun, aiming it straight at Alfie’s head, “You shut the fuck up, I want to hear from (Y/N)” He bellowed, gun waving in rage throughout the air.

In response to this your brain began to function normally again, springing immediately into action you positioned yourself in front of Alfie, protecting him from your brothers. Your protective stance was apparently shocking to you brothers, because once again confusion filtered through each of their expressions,

“Right, I know that I haven’t been honest with you for the past year” You began, already creating a whole new problem

“A FUCKING YEAR?!” John interjected, Arthur let out a started laugh but Tommy stayed dead silent, staring right into your eyes, waiting for an explanation.

“Alfie and I have been seeing each other over the past year. And I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you would react like this” You pleaded at each of them, but holding the most eye contact with Tommy, knowing full well that it was Tommy’s opinion which matter, because what he says goes.

“Of course we fucking wouldn’t, no sister of mine is going to be Solomons fucking whore” Johns words felt like a slap across the face, you couldn’t believe your own brother would assume that about you. Tears began to prick behind your eyes, Alfie sensed your distress, anger began to fill his body.

“Right, don’t fuckin talk to her like that alright?” He snapped, rage warning John to back down or this won’t end very well for his wellbeing.

“She’s our fuckin sister you listen to me, she may have had your cock in her mouth but we are the ones who bloody raised her” John spat back, your cheeks erupted into flames and you stomach turning.

“(Y/N) get away from him” Arthur seethed, gun back in its original place, pointed straight at Alfie’s head.

“No” You screamed, tears now freely running down your face.

“Luv, just please move out of the way of the gun, I don’t trust your fuckin’ monster of a brother with that thing, yeah?” Alfie tried to reason with you, but your feet were planted in front of him, as if they were screwed into the ground.

It now became a shouting match between Arthur and John threatening Alfie, and Alfie shouting right back at them.

“Tommy please” You chocked, gazing into those piercing blue eyes which were identical to your own.

He just remained silent, as if he was formulating a plan out of this situation. The shouting had now stopped, Arthur and John both waiting for Tommy’s input in the situation, knowing full well if Tommy allowed it, they wouldn’t hesitate in blowing out the brains of the man who held your heart.

“It’s not a fucking business decision Thomas, I’m your sister” You seethed, why couldn’t they just accept it? Tommy knew full well that he couldn’t judge who you were in bed with, especially with his choice of women.

“You should have thought about that before you betrayed this family” His cold words sliced through your skins, it almost felt as bad as if he swung his razor blade hat at your heart.

“I love him” You declared, Arthur and John scoffed, Tommy’s face remained unchanged. But Alfie’s hand slipped into yours, this action caused yet another round of shouting from the two brothers, but Tommy just stared.

“Tommy, I know this isn’t the best circumstances mate, fuckin hell even a blind man can see that” Alfie took his turn to try to reason with the man, “But I bloody love her, and I can tell you honestly, no matter how fucking hard I tried, she never once gave me information about your company”

Tommy looked between you and Alfie, almost as if he believed that truthful statement, but all too soon his eyes changed. From the blue eyes of your older brother, to a stranger who held no emotion towards you.

“Well then (Y/N), I hope you have a happy life with Mr. Solomons here, at least before he throws you out of his bed when he gets fed up with you. But when that does happen, don’t bother coming home” With that final statement Arthur and Johns eyes dart between you and Tommy. Your heartbroken expression clear through the tears cascading from your face forming a small puddle at your feet.

“Tom, that a bit harsh-” Arthur was cut off by Tommy’s hardened stare, and with one last glance from John and Arthur, all three turned their backs on you and walked out of Alfie’s office, where you crumpled to the floor, your cries drowning out Alfie’s comforting words.