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#chapter 1 is 1.5k so not too bad
sach216 · 6 months
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Just wanted to share that I'm working on a secret quartet multichap fic 😊👉👈
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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 4 months
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Forbidden Love: Chapter 1 Next Chapter
Shy?
Masterlist
Criminal Minds Masterlist Emily Prentiss Masterlist
Summary: Professor!Emily x fem!student reader, what happens when profesor prentiss and the reader finally give into their feelings?
Word count: 1.5k
TW: Making out, I think that’s it?
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader
A/N: Should I make this a series? Idk it might be fun!
Studying behavioural profiling is, well, different. It’s like science, criminology and psychology and smooshed into one subject. But the best thing about it, you ask? The teacher. Emily Prentiss is the most divine woman to ever step foot on this earth and no one can tell me otherwise. The way she strides along the front of the lecture all, her raven hair that falls in front of her face when she bends down to click something on her laptop, her eyes that always seem to find mine in a room full of students, her veiny hands that brush over mine when giving back a test. Ugh god, I swear I’m falling in love with this woman. 
It’s 7:45 am on a Wednesday and I’m walking across campus so I can get to lesson a little early to touch up my notes from my other class with Agent Morgan and to go over my- okay I’m bullshtting I just want to see Emily. And to be honest, I think I’m one of her more favourite students so I think she doesn’t mind me being early. 
I push open the door to the lecture hall and start walking down the steps, laptop bag slung over my shoulder that contained notebooks, pens, pencils etc, all the essentials. In my hand I held a travel coffee mug with my favourite hot chocolate in it because I wasn’t too partial to coffee. As I reach the front row I notice that Professor Prentiss has been following me with her eyes and watching the sway of my hips as I walked in. ”Morning Professor.” I try to say as if her eyes all over me weren’t causing a blush to creep up my neck. I took a quick check behind me finding out I was the only one in the room. 
“Hi, y/n. How are you today?” She asked her eyes staring into mine, genuinely curious.
”Good thank you, tired but good, what about you?” I smile as she chuckles lightly at my comment.
“Just about the same as you darling.” She replies with a smirk on her face seeing my face instantly bloom with red at the pet name. I shuffle my bag slightly before she says “I was out on a case for the last two or so days and I, only just, made it back in time to teach you guys. Lucky me hey? The only reason I’m even slightly okay with having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn is because of students like you. You actually listen and care, god knows that kind of work ethic is rare these days.” Emily looks exhausted and about ready to jump into bed at any second but the words that she said seem to cloud my head so I don’t pay much attention to her disheveled state. 
Students like me? What does that even mean? Well, she explained what it meant but I still wasn’t convinced. Nonetheless I responded “Yeah, it really is. All the people in this class want to be profilers or something along the lines of such and yet none of them take their education seriously. I want to throw something at them every time they talk over you. I might actually do it one day, it's so annoying!” She smiles fondly at my words making a cage of butterflies escape into my stomach and I smile back. 
“Now, I can’t have you throwing things at people, can I now sweetheart? That’ll get you kicked off the course. And I don’t think you want that, I certainly don’t want that, and besides don’t worry about the others. You’re doing amazing ah, that reminds me can you stay behind at the end? I just want to speak to you about your grade on our most recent exam. It’s nothing bad, I promise. You’ve done exceptionally well, in fact so well that I want to talk to you about further opportunities you have open to you.” She places her hand on my shoulder as we now stand face to face, she got up halfway through talking to lean on the front of her desk. I smile and subconsciously lean into her touch. The remains of the blush from the pet names yet again lingers but I say a small “Thank you Professor.” 
At that moment the door to the lecture hall swings open revealing another student in their own little world unaware of the building tension in the room. I give her one last smile and go make my way to a seat in the front row. I get out my laptop and notebook and start writing the dates and titles. I could feel eyes on me the whole time, I look up and lock eyes with Emily, finding her already looking at me. She sent me a wink and glanced back down at whatever she was working on. A crimson flush invaded my face and I returned my eyes to my page.
After the lesson I packed up slower than normal so that I’d be able to stay behind a little longer than she probably ment. I put my laptop in my bag and zip it up and grab my now empty hot chocolate. I walk up to Profesor Prentiss’ desk and find she’s already looking at me, again. 
“You know, you should stop staring at me so much. People might get the wrong idea.” I say, suddenly feeling confident, a teasing smirk on my lips. 
“What if I want them to get the wrong idea? What if I want them to think you’re mine?” I quickly shut up at that remark, all my confidence suddenly disappeared and I turned into putty. Heat rose to my cheeks and my head dipped to avoid her piercing gaze, it wasn’t mean, more admiration. But, any look from Emily Prentiss is intense. “Cat got your tongue honey?” She had a shit eating grin on her face as she saw me nod slowly. 
“Anyway, your grade! Okay you scared the highest in the class, and you got full marks. This isn’t anything new for you I'm sure, you’re a bright young woman. But, scoring this high in a test this hard, it opens doors for you. So, I’m here to offer you a chance to shadow me and the team for a week to see how we handle cases and what the job entails really. I also wanted to let you know that if you have any interest in joining the team I would accept you in a heartbeat. You’re a brilliant profiler.” Yet again for what feels like the millionth time today, heat rises to my cheeks. She stalks the way round her desk and stands in front of it. 
“That sounds amazing, oh my god, really?” A smile broke out on my face immediately. She looked pleased at my reaction and took a step closer. 
“Yeah of course really, why would I joke?” She laughed softly. I muttered a small ‘true’ and kept shamelessly checking her out as she still came closer to me and lowered her lips down to my ear and whispered, “Do I make you nervous darling? Is that why you get all shy whenever I’m around?” I nodded again while looking down, her hand found my chin and tilted it up. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” I felt a strange tingling in my lower stomach as she said that. 
I looked her in the eye and she bought me closer. “Is this okay?” she muttered, her breath fanning across my face due to the proximity. 
“Yes.” I breathed out. That was all the confirmation she needed to softly press her lips to mine. She held me like I might break at any minute, so tentative and caring it made my heart flutter. My hands found their way around my waist and I pulled her closer. She moved us around so now I was the one against the desk as she deepened the kiss, her tongue moving into my mouth. I instantly let her take control of the kiss and press her hips against mine. A small whine left my lips and I lent into her arms which were on my hips. 
She pulled away and looked into my eyes before whispering, just to me even though there was no one else there, “I don’t want this to just be a fling, just to make that clear.” I smiled wide and pecked her lips once more. 
“Neither do I.” She pulled me in again and we kissed with smiles on both of our faces. We knew we would have to be a secret for a while obviously but it didn’t stop me from fantasising about what was to come.
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unoislazy · 11 months
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Masterlist
Oldest to newest
(The only things out of order are the Headcanons which can all be found at the same spot, specifically for BES)
If I did it correctly you should be able to click the underlined places and they’ll send you right to the story!
Special Information
Request Information
Y'all will never believe what I forgot to add
RDR 2
How To Aim
Arthur Morgan x Reader
One Part
Th actual fic that started it all
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HTTYD
Question? What Question?
Hiccup x Reader
Part 1
Word Count: 1.2k
Summary: Hiccup accidentally lets it slip that his father is expecting him to ask someone a question. Who could that someone be… and what’s the question?
Part 2
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: You and Hiccup go out to figure out where that smokes coming from. You decide to return back to Berk to tell Stoick what you saw. However, Stoick had other plans in mind.
Somethings Off About That Boy
Hiccup x Reader
Part 1
Word Count: 1k
Summary: Hiccup has always been weird but lately he’s been acting… weirder than usual. What could he be hiding? Maybe you should try to find out on your own. Who knows, maybe he’s just going to the woods to make weird outfits.
Hiccup Haddock Headcanons
Word Count:459
Hiccup x reader headcanons : just general ones, no specific focus.
What Can Never Be
Hiccup Haddock x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: You and Hiccup fight together during the battle against Drago Bludvist, what could go wrong?
Warning: a bit of angst
Trapped With You
Hiccup x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 3.4K
Warnings: if you’re prone to second hand embarrassment this one’s gonna be a doozy
A Dragon Trappers Fate
Eret son of Eret x Reader
Part 1
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: You’re forced to tag along on the quest to find Hiccup after he went off, determined to find Drago. While you there you happen to stumble across a certain dragon trapper. You feel… weird when you look at him. Why?
Part 2
Word Count: 1.7k Words
Summary: you thought you’d only have to see Eret once and never again, that way that weird feeling you got when you looked at him would disappear. Well, turns out you need him again so you an find out where Drago Bludvist is located. No one better to interrogate than a dragon trapper.
Just Talk To Me!
Hiccup x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you this.
The Outsider
Hiccup Haddock x Reader
(Shocker I Know)
Part 1
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: You wound up on the shores of Berk after something… had happened to you. Thankfully someone had found you and reported your presence to the Chief.
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Blue Eye Samurai
Spar With Me
Mizu x Reader
Part one
Word Count: 2.7k
Part Two
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: Not much sparring actually happens this time. But you still somehow wind up in an embarrassing position.
Disclaimers: light language, has not been proofread, shorter and way more embarrassing than the last chapter
Part Three
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: after dealing with a situation in town, Mizu helps you calm down a bit.
Disclaimer; a small bit of violence
Healing Takes Time
Injured! Mizu x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 4.9k
Summary: you’re just a simple healer minding your business, avoiding a fight that had broken out along your street when suddenly an extremely wounded strange man ends up at your door.
Disclaimers; very soft angst, nothing too bad.
Part Two
Jealousy Looks Good On You
Mizu x Jealous!Reader
One Part
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.
Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️
'Til The Caged Bird Sings
Mizu x Mixed! Fem! Reader
Part One
Part Two
Word Count: 3.9k
Content Warning: Contains violence and mentions of SA
Part Three
Cw: A bit bloody, mentions of SA
Headcannons
Mizu Dating Headcanons
Mizu Fluff Headcanons
Jealous Mizu Headcanons
BES Characters and pets
BES College Au
NSFW Mizu Headcanons
Fucking Brat
Mizu X reader
Part One
Disclaimer: light cursing obvious
Heated but no NSFW
Your Touch
Mizu x Reader
One Part
I lied, here's
Part Two
Fem! Reader
a bit heated, but doesn't go all the way
I Am No Coward
Mizu x Fem! Reader
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Art
Mizu Drawings 1
Mizu Drawings 2
Mizu Drawings 3
Mizu Drawings 4
Mizu Drawings 5
Mizu Doodle (w/ Progress picture)
Mizu Drawings 6
Mizu Drawings 7
Mizu Drawings 8
Mizu Drawings 9
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neteyamslovrr · 1 year
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RETURN - PT 1
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summary: five years ago he left you. left you alone with nothing but memories of your love. so how dare he come back now?
contents: 1.5k words, fem!omaticaya reader, angst, swearing
authors note: AHHHH first chapter i'm so excited to post this guys!! thankuu to all my mooties that helped me brew this series
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Nothing could ever surmount to the despair you felt that day. The day he looked into your weeping eyes, looked right into your aching soul, and told you he was leaving.
Leaving. You begged him to take you with him. Pleaded with his pained expression to let you stay with him. To take you with him. To walk every journey together.
But he didn’t. He shook his head, pursing his lips that have kissed you for the last time. Crossing his arms that embraced you for the last time. He said no. One simple word that crushed your entire self.
“It won’t be safe, I can’t take you from the forest, this is your home.” No. No he was your home! He was your everything. The last face you look at when you say goodnight to the day left behind you. The one you would run to, so you could tell him everything good and bad. The man you imagined your entire life to be with.
That same man who was running from his home, to never return back to you.
You pleaded with him, crashing onto your knees, wrapping your arms around his torso. Crying into him as you begged to accompany him. How could he leave you? How could he have the heart to tear out yours.
“Y/N…let go.” His deep voice ring deep in your ears. You knew he was talking about your physical grip on him. But it felt so much deeper. Let go. Let go of us. Let go of everything we ever were. Let go of me.
You shook your head desperately, hands still clinging to his body. The rough soil beneath you cutting into your knees but no cut would ever be as deep as the one he had laid into your soul.
It was as if the hands he took to pry your frail body off him were the daggers that were slicing up your heart. Leaving wounds so deep they would never heal. How could you ever heal from this?
You looked up at him, tears letting his cheeks dampen, his face showing nothing but grief as he met your hurt eyes.
“I have to go…Y/N you know I have to.” You did. You knew you had no say in this. Your words were insignificant to begin with.
His figure crouched down in front of you. Wiping the salty tears that stained your cheeks. He saw the way your chin quivered as he caressed your beautiful face.
A salty, sweet kiss was the last one you ever shared with him. A kiss you both cried into, gripping onto each other knowing it was the last time. It was bittersweet. To share a moment so close together only to be ripped apart.
All that connected you both was memories. Memories that now serve you nothing but hurt.
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Five years had passed. Five dreadful years.
You were now a 20 year old woman. Adorned with your bow and the physique of a fit warrior. Though no amount of time could ever heal the cuts he left so deep in you.
For the first year, you were nothing but a shell. Never eating, never sleeping. You simply existed. Which was a chore to do without him.
You wished nothing but to stop existing. To stop experiencing every bit of sadness, every bit of grief. To stop mourning the loss of the only man you could ever love.
Tears were your most worn accessory, no one ever daring to tell you they looked bad. Too scared to send you spiralling even more than you already had.
Though, those times you spent rocking in your hammock. Looking at the stars that lit up the night sky, those cuts that ran deep within you, the cuts that caused so pain. They started to seep.
Started to seep blood red rage.
How could he ever have left you? Was he so selfish to not think of the effect this would have on you? Did he simply not care?
How was the one time he decided to act selfishly be the time wounded the one who loved him most? To be so selfish, to claim he would be keeping you safe.
Safe to what? The sky-people that reigned free through your planet. Constantly on the verge of war to aliens that had no consideration for your people. Just like he had no consideration for your heart.
You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so bad, that every memory of him would fade into a blood red image of evil. That every memory would turn into a disgusting thought of a disgusting man.
You wanted to hate him with every fibre in your body. But you couldn’t.
Maybe that’s when everything stopped looking so blood red. When everything dulled out. Nothing mattered, he would never come back.
So with a tainted heart and an aching soul, you accepted that you would never experience the love of your mate every again. Never feel his touch, hear his voice, smell his scent, taste his kisses. You would never be with him.
That’s were Va’tep entered into your life. Barging into your knocked down walls and building a crappy foundation.
Va’tep, Tarsem’s younger brother. One year your elder. A fierce warrior, a man who refused to lose, a man who claimed what was his. And to him, you were his.
Your parents always longed for status. To be high up in the clan. You were their golden ticket, finding your way into the heart of Toruk Makto’s eldest son. They rejoiced in your heart’s residence, rejoiced in the fact that you fulfilled their one wish. They were your number one advocate. Pushing you to train for your rite of passage ever since you became closer with the boy. They worked every inch of their being towards the union between the pair of you.
But the hard work washed away as fast as the waterfall plunged.
Washing away all your dreams, your happiness, your meaning. It washed away your parent’s status, Va’tep being the life guard that pulls them out of the strong currents.
Nothing could ever amount to him though. Your heart resided with someone else as your body laid with his. You felt yourself fill with shame every time you shared a touch. A shiver of disgust running down your entire body. Breaking the vow of your love towards the boy who broke you.
“Where’s your head at beautiful?” That was what he called you. Beautiful. His voice would never be as sweet as his. Never send the right shivers through you.
Va’tep’s calloused hands caressed your cheek, so rough it felt as if he was dragging you with his touch. Everything he did was rough. Rough like the soil you pleaded on.
Maybe this was Eywa laughing in your face. Giving you a man so opposite to the man you craved so desperately. Even after 5 years, Eywa would never let you forget those memories.
Shrugging his hands off your body, he let out a low hiss. One that showed his offence towards your actions. A hiss so quiet, it would only be heard if you cared. But you didn’t. Something else was clouding your mind, taking your attention away from him. And it wasn’t just your past lover.
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You made your way towards the growing crowd of people that formed around the entrance of High Camp. Va’tep’s calls after you were silenced by the gasps and whispers of your people that were creating confusion that bubbled in your stomach.
Pushing yourself to the front of the crowd, definitely stepping on the feet of others. You looked for the source of the commotion. Ears perking up and eyes squinting to find the one thing people were gawking at.
Though now as you look towards the source, you wish you minded your business. Everything was coming back. Every emotion, every curse, every thought, every tear. They all fell on top of you, crushing your soul as you let out a small whimper in fear.
The source was making its way towards you. No. No. NO. This can’t happen. This cannot be happening. Feet stumbling as you paced backwards, avoiding looking straight ahead.
Dread filled your entire being. Filling it from your toes until it felt as if it would spill out of you, gurgling in the pits of your stomach. No. No. NO.
Crashing into the back of a person, you were forced to halt your escape. Frozen in shock as you looked at the man who had broken your heart and given it back to you.
Lips quivering, tears pooling in your eyes. He reached his hands towards you. How could he come back? Why was he back? This is all some sort of sick dream. A nightmare.
“My beautiful girl.” His voice was deeper, still so sweet it would cause a cavity. It enticed you. You had been without his voice for so long.
So long…because he left you. Because he was cruel and selfish.
Shaking your head profusely, just like you did that dreaded day. Your hands shook as you pointed at him, an accusatory finger aimed at him as your mind swirled.
“I’m here now.” He should have never left, he should have NEVER left. What a sick fuck. To come back expecting open arms when all you wanted was to never have your arms leave him. “Beautiful? What is it?”
“I am not your beautiful, Neteyam.”
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tags: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @oceanstar19 @sharkybabe9
thankyou sm for reading lovelies!! reblogs + replies sososososo appreciated ilysm ily ily
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sweetimpurity · 4 months
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On the Run
w.c. 1.5k NSFW
a/n: 1 edit
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Chapter 1
The faucet drips slowly and the sounds of crickets and nightlife sing outside the cracked back window. It’s quiet in the dark motel room except for his heavy breathing and your consistent soft whimpers of pleasure. After the stress of having to leave everything behind, you’re trying to figure out how to live in the shadows, keep out of the light, disappear for a while so that some certain people don’t find you. You’re in love with him, and nothing can stop you from being with him. Now you’re on the run, laying low until hopefully all this drama can pass. But at least you have each other… 
“Good, baby?” He pants, leaning on his elbow, looking down over your face, his hand cradling your head as he thrusts his cock into your precious cunt over and over. “Oh-miggy…” you moan and it makes him even more determined. This is one of the first times you’ve felt safe in the last few days. You’ve been traveling for so long in Miguel’s car, trying to get to a small town no one would think to look for you. You both managed to check into some rundown motel in the dead of night. Finally settling in one spot and hoping it’s far enough away. 
You’re needy for him, scared of losing him and knowing how bad things are for the both of you. You couldn’t judge him for the sort of people he was associated with, but it made you scared to think that there are dangerous men looking for him right now, even as he makes love to you. In your eyes, he’s perfect, and for you he is sweet as can be. 
He thrusts deeply, his cock dragging deliciously through your plush walls, pulling endless moans and whimpers of pleasure from your reddened lips. And you look at him with a face that drives him wild, looking like you could cry or cum at any second. Your lips are parted and your eyebrows creased, accepting all of his torturous pleasure. He looks down at you with a stern expression. He’s not smiling, but he’s not frowning, he’s focusing. Focusing on only you. “Oh Mig… Miguel…” you moan and he runs his fingers down the side of your face lovingly. “I’ve got you baby…” He says lowly and dips his head down to kiss your throat and your warm soft neck, working you up to make you sensitive, loving the face you make when you're overwhelmed by his touch. Your soft hands go up to press lightly on his broad chest and he knows you're close. 
“So pretty babygirl… all mine… just for me, yeah?” He praises sweetly. He knows words are hard, impossible right now. He doesn’t need a response, he just wants to work you up, keep you flustered and your mind fuzzy. He knows it only makes your orgasm that much stronger when you're like this. 
And he wants to give you the release you need. He feels guilty about this whole situation. He shouldn’t have let you get involved but he just couldn’t say no to you. And he couldn’t keep himself away, he’s desperately in love with you too.  
You hum in response and your hand moves to the back of his neck, your fingers running through his soft hair as he keeps pumping deeply within you. He strokes his fingers down your flushed cheek, his thumb resting on your bottom lip, rubbing it softly before grabbing your chin and kissing your hungrily. He speeds up his movements, jutting his hips into your a little faster and you whimper in response to the new rhythm, closing your eyes tight, jaw dropped against his mouth. 
Just then Miguel’s ears perk up to a familiar sound outside. He might just be imagining it but it sounds exactly like the car of one of the guys he knows. One of the men he thought he could trust but is now hunting him down. It was a very specific car and he could hear the sound of the engine along with the custom muffler he remembers so well. It’s not a sound he could easily forget or mistake. How did they find them so quickly? And why does it have to be now, right now in this most intimate moment? 
His mind fills with dread but he doesn’t want to worry your, you’re still moaning his name and he hasn’t stopped fucking into your sweetness. He sighs and his face stays in its stern expression, his brow furrowing slightly in frustration that they didn’t get far enough away. “Miguel…” you moan again and put your hand on his shoulder, seeing that he’s distracted by something. “Baby…” He whispers, smiling and trying to hide the fact that they might have been found. But he doesn’t want to stop this yet. It wouldn’t be fair to you. He would never forgive himself for purposely bringing you into such intense sensitivity and then denying you release. “My baby…” He whispers and kisses your lips a few times. You whimper into his mouth, the only sounds being your soft moans, the gentle snap of your lips together, the squish of his cock into your slick and the threat of danger rumbling outside as Miguel hears the engine turn off and car doors slam shut. 
He keeps kissing you deeply, your eyes closed in bliss but his eyes open, looking out the window to try and see through the blinds and pick up any movement outside. He glares toward the windows and around the room nervously but he comes back to kiss your lips, his tongue invading and dominating your soft, eager mouth. 
He pulls away from the kiss, hearing a new noise outside, sounding like pounding downstairs on the doors of the first floor, and the sound gets louder the closer it gets. He looks over his shoulder, still pumping into you generously but now you know there's something wrong. “What is it?” you pant, still so sensitive, barely able to think straight. “Nothing baby… it’s nothing, it’s okay” He looks back at you and tries to soothe you even though he’s starting to get nervous himself. He keeps thrusting into you, a lot deeper now, determined to give you all his attention, looking in your eyes with his same dominant expression as you wither into a puddle of moans and helpless whimpers. He just needs to make your cum and then he can figure this out, but you're most important right now. Even he thinks he’s crazy for not acting when he knows there's danger, but seriously nothing else matters. He’d take a bullet for you any day. 
“Cmon baby, c'mon… give it to me” He half-whispers and his deep voice gives you shivers. He reaches an arm down and hooks it under your knee, bringing it up just a little bit and keeping it there with his thigh so he can reach new depths within you. His cock presses perfectly to your sweet spot, making your whine and pout.  He’s trying to push you over the edge, needing it to happen now. His fingers move down to your clit to keep things building and bring you there faster. “Mig-ah.. I…s’too much Miguel!” You beg him softly, and try to close your thighs around his waist, the pleasure completely overwhelming you. “Shhh…you can take it angel… cum for me baby…” He pushes into you harder now and his fingers work expertly on your clit. He feels your velvet pulsing around him and he knows you’re just about there. 
The pounding on the motel doors gets louder and closer. Whoever is out there, if it’s who Miguel thinks it is, they’re not going to stop until they find what they’re looking for. And who they’re looking for. 
You cry out in pleasure, his cock still stimulating your sensitive nerves. “Oh Mig- oh…” you whimper and just like that, you’re there. Your back arches off the bed and you take a deep breath as your orgasm takes over. Miguel watches and he can tell you’re about to moan loud. As much as he wants to hear your sweet voice moan over his cock, he doesn’t want the men outside to hear, he hopes they can just make a silent escape. He leans up and captures your mouth in a kiss right as you're about to moan out in ecstasy. Instead you moan into his mouth as your walls flutter around him in rhythm, your hands pressing to his chest as it happens. He holds your mouth hostage with kisses until you come down from the high and he pulls out quickly, making you whimper sadly at the loss of contact. He suddenly sits up and kneels on the bed, looking through the blinds seriously. 
“Miguel…what is it?” you ask and catch your breath, so concerned as you try to sit up, your body tired and completely fucked out. “We need to go baby… I’m sorry”
...
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scoonsalicious · 6 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 9, Unselfish - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex (nothing on page), fluff.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Despite Jade's interference, you and Bucky spent a pleasant, intimate afternoon together. Secrets were revealed. Steve's in love with you-- who knew?! And Bucky's hella insecure about it, but you reassured him that he's the one you want. You share your phone passcodes (so cute, I could gag) and are in a good place, but Steve's asked Bucky to take point on Jade's training. What could possibly go wrong?
A/N: Let's call this part "The Calm Before the Storm," shall we? I think it's the final peaceful moment before shit begins hitting the fan with increasing severity. I am sorry for what is to come.
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
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The following morning, you and Bucky made your way out of the Tower to an adorable Midtown café you’d been coming to since you first began spending time together. The interior consisted of high windows, exposed brick walls, comfortable seating, and plants everywhere. You made your way up to the loft to commandeer one of the oversized plush armchairs for the two of you while Bucky placed your orders.
“Peanut butter coffee shake,” he said when he arrived, handing you your order as he snuggled down into the chair next to you. With the hand that wasn’t holding his large black coffee, he adjusted your legs until they were draped over his lap and he began running his fingers along the length of your thigh.
“Thank you,” you murmured, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You'd told him you hadn’t minded waiting in line with him, or even going to get the drinks yourself while he got the seats, but he scoffed.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my girl wait in line when I’m perfectly capable of doing it, myself?” he retorted. So, you’d accepted his chivalry.
“So,” you began after a few moments of companionable silence and sips of your respective beverages, “we should talk about Steve’s request. You taking on Jade’s training.”
Bucky slung an arm over the backrest of the armchair. “Nothing to talk about, doll. I’m gonna tell him I won’t do it. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable.”
You offered him a soft smile, grateful that he was taking your feelings, however ridiculous and unfounded they might have been, into consideration. You’d been giving the matter a lot of thought, however, and as far as you were concerned, there was only one course of action he could take.
“I really appreciate that, Buck,” you said, lifting a hand up to caress his jawline, “but I think you should do it.”
He gaped at you, surprise and confusion plainly evident across his face. “Is this one of those boyfriend tests Sam’s always making me watch videos of on that clock app?” he asked, looking around as though searching for a camera that might be recording him.
You chuckled, taking his hand and rubbing comforting circles into the mound above his thumb. “No, I promise it’s not. I’ve just been giving it a lot of thought, and I can’t justify asking you not to do it. I don’t love the idea, I won’t lie about that, but if Jade’s going to become the best Avenger she can possibly be, she’s going to need the best teacher. There’s no one else more suited to train her than you, and that’s just a fact. I don’t have to like it, but her ability to be a good teammate, to ensure that she knows what she’s doing and keep you and the others safe on missions? Well, that trumps my feelings on the matter.”
Bucky took your joined hands and raised them to his lips, pressing a kiss to the pulse point of your wrist. “Are you absolutely sure? If you have any doubts, I’ll tell Steve he can train her, himself.”
You shook your head. “It’s okay, baby, really. I may not trust her as far as I can throw her, but I trust you. That’s good enough for me.”
Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, kissing your temple. “You’ll tell me the second she does anything that makes you uncomfortable, alright, sweets?” he asked. “I won’t be able to live with myself if anything I’ve done inadvertently makes you unhappy. Promise me, okay?”
“I promise,” you said, smiling back at him as you rested your head into the crook of his shoulder. “I only ask that you be transparent with me, you know?” Bucky gave you a questioning look, silently asking you to elaborate. “Just, like, let me know if she says or does anything inappropriate, tell me if you’re going to spend any one-on-one time with her, that sort of thing. Is that cool?”
Bucky nodded as he ran his fingers up and down your upper arm. “Yeah, that’s easy enough,” he said. “But I really don’t think you gotta worry about it, doll. I mean, what’s a girl like her gonna see in a guy like me, anyway?”
You pulled your head back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, a note of defensiveness creeping into your voice. “What, you think she’s too good to be interested in you? Because if so, what does that mean you think about me?”
Bucky put his coffee cup down on the table in front of you and positioned himself so that he was looking you directly in the face. “No. Not at all, sweetheart. I mean, she doesn’t know me. Not like you do, not even close. All she knows is what she’s seen in the media. The Winter Soldier. The assassin, the killer. She doesn’t know Bucky Barnes. You know me. You know who I really am. You see me. She can’t.” He said the words as if it were so obvious, so apparent, that there was no way Jade could be truly interested in him simply because she didn’t know who he truly was, that it made you question why you were letting yourself get so worked up over it in the first place.
“Listen,” he said, reaching a hand up to cup the side of your face and brush back your hair, “I hate that you’re getting yourself so upset over this. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“I just don’t trust her, Buck,” you murmured, leaning into his palm. “She’s manipulative, plays fast and loose with the truth, and she’s made it perfectly clear to me that she wants to sleep with you.”
Bucky pulled his head back slightly. “When did she say that?”
Shit. You hadn’t meant to divulge that nugget of truth. Might as well come clean; cat was out of the bag now. “When I was doing her Tower tour,” you told him with a sigh. “She was telling me that she was going to sleep with you, find out if your super soldier stamina could make her come for hours, and then let me know all about it.”
Bucky began laughing, and when you glared at him, he raised his hand in surrender. “I’m sorry, but it’s kinda pathetic of her, don’t you think? I mean, she’s acting like she’s hot shit, like she’s god’s gift to men, and she has no clue she’s talking to the only woman alive who's actually been on the receiving end of my ‘super soldier stamina’ . I sincerely hope you told her you weren’t in need of her offer, since you already knew for yourself. Every day, and usually more than once, I might add.”
You snorted. “I might have mentioned it, yeah,” you muttered, ducking your head to hide your embarrassment behind your hair.
Bucky leaned his head back. “That’s my girl,” he laughed heartily. He pulled you closer to him until you were sitting in his lap. “No wonder she’s been such a bitch to you. I bet she didn’t expect you to bring her down a peg. Serves her right.”
You put down your own coffee and wrapped your arms around him, snuggling your body as close to Bucky’s chest as you could get. “Thank you,” you said. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
“Hey,” he said, stroking your hair, “I’m only telling you the truth. "I love you, and only you. I don’t want you ever doubting that.”
“I don’t, and I won’t,” you assured him. “And I love you, too. So fucking much.”
“Too bad we’re not back at the Tower,” Bucky joked. “Stark’d be getting another dollar in his jar.”
“No worries there,” you said, holding up your wrist to show him the silver bangle you always wore. “In addition to keeping track of my location, vitals, and being a distress beacon, Tony also programed it to count every time I swear, so FRIDAY never misses a thing.”
Bucky’s eyes widened. “So, you’re saying that last week, when we were in the bathroom at that bar…”
“And I kept begging you to ‘fuck me harder’ against the sink?” you giggled. “Yup. Every single one of those counted.”
“God, how much money is in that jar by now?” he asked with a laugh.
“I honestly have no idea,” you told him. “A lot, I’d wager. It’s been almost a year and a half.”
Bucky leaned in to kiss you. “Told you I love that filthy mouth of yours,” he whispered into your lips. “What are you going to do with all of it?”
“Hmm,” you hummed. “Maybe you and I could take a long vacation, go somewhere, just the two of us.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, a smile building across his beautiful face. “Where’d you have in mind?”
“I dunno,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. “I’ve always heard Tahiti was a magical place.”
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desideriumwriter · 1 year
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Anyone Else But You | Chapter 1 | F.W
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Chapter Summary - The introduction to all the reasons why reader despises the Weasley twins, especially Fred Weasley.
Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader
Category - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, slowburn
Content Warnings - animal abuse? (fred & george feed a firework to a salamander.) 
Word Count - 1.5k
Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Next Chap | Navigation | 
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There’s no one who irritates you more than the Weasley Twins. 
They’re loud, immature, unreliable, clumsy, arrogant, touchy, careless, childish, stubborn, just genuinely stupid. It’s as if everything you hated had been mixed together and formed into two tall, redheaded, teenage boys. 
Ever since you started your first year with them, it’s felt as if they’re the most agitating people in the world. Now you're all in your fifth year, and they’ve only gotten worse since then. 
It’s bad enough that you got put in the same house as them, you also somehow got multiple classes with them every year, and that your parents were friends with their parents. But, what added fuel to the fire was that they knew you didn’t like them, that you found them annoying and unfunny, and that only made them pester you more.
Yet it was surprising you were able to make friends with their younger brother, Ron. He didn’t care about your hatred for the twins, he agreed sometimes on how they would take their “pranks” too far, especially with him. He spilled to you about the plenty of times they used his phobias against him, when Fred turned his teddy bear into a spider when he was younger, they practically fueled his fear of spiders, or when both of the twins tried to get him to make an unbreakable vow when he was only five.
Ron also told you about how they tormented his other siblings as well.
George once admitted (proudly) that he and Fred attempted to shove Percy into a tomb while on a trip to Egypt, however, their mum caught them in the act, and they put beetles in his soup. They let off a dungbomb under their elderly aunt's chair on Christmas day. Even though you heard about their elderly aunt being unpleasant and unsympathetic, it’s risky to scare a 107-year-old with something explosive.
They would mess with their older brother Charlie, who studies and takes care of dragons now, by hiding his books about dragons or pretending that they accidentally destroyed them.
The twins seemed the most lax with Ginny, you didn’t hear about too many mean pranks being pulled on her. They would scare her by jumping up behind her with creepy masks on or steal all her food off her plate when she wasn’t looking. She was probably the favorite sibling to them.
There were so many more events that gave you more reasons to hate them.
In their first year, they set off a dungbomb in one of the corridors, the smell wouldn’t go away for days, it lingered through the air and anyone even remotely close would unwillingly get the strong, foul, disgusting smell of it in their nostrils, also if you walked through the gas, the smell would stick to you. 
They fed a firework to a salamander, they wanted to ‘see what would happen’. You accidentally and unwillingly witnessed it, making the mistake of choosing to study at the lake that day.
They’ve hidden and messed up Percy’s Head Boy badge, they nearly made their poor brother cry because of it.
At the end of Second year, they set off the last of their Filibuster Fireworks on the train ride home.
They constantly stole items from other classmates, including you. There have been multiple times your textbooks and/or notes have gone missing for several days. When your stuff would magically appear on your bed in the dorms, there’d be a note attached to it saying “Thanks for letting us borrow this!” or something along the lines of that. Also, little doodles and drawings on the sides of your notes and sometimes your textbook.
Sometimes they wouldn’t even put your textbooks or your notes on your bed, they’d hide them. Putting them in your nightstand drawers, under your bed, behind the curtains, inside your closet, on top of the closet, and even inside of your pillowcase. You remember the first time they hid it there.
You had stayed up far too late studying in the common room, there was a test in Snape’s class in the morning that you definitely weren't ready for. You decided maybe you should go to bed after your head nearly hit the table you were sitting at for a third time due to you falling asleep.
You closed your notebook and gathered your supplies, heading up to the girl's dormitory. Too tired to put your things away properly, you put them on the floor next to your bed. You turned off your lamp and flopped down onto your pillow. Instead of feeling a cool, soft, and comfortable cushion touch your head, you hit your head on a large, solid, and heavy textbook.
You hissed out loud in pain, causing a few girls to groan and stir in their sleep. You sat up and held the side of your head which was now stinging, you wouldn’t be surprised if you got a lump the next day due to how hard your head smacked into it.
You turned back on the light next to your bed, you looked at your pillow, noticing the large rectangular shape inside it, you could see the cover of your textbook with a small piece of paper stuck on it through the sheer fabric. Angrily, you took your textbook out of the pillowcase, taking the folded piece of the paper that was on the front and opening it.
Thanks for letting us borrow this! Sweet dreams!
                                      Much love, F and G!
You would’ve screamed and stormed your way over to the boy's dorm to beat both of the twins with the book if it wasn’t past midnight and if you weren’t in a room of sleeping girls. All you could do was put the textbook with the rest of your things and go to sleep angry, or at least try to sleep, now that you were wide awake and your head was throbbing.
Anyways, they also cheated all the time, they’d constantly bug you for answers in the middle of tests when they didn’t even need them. You hate to say this, but they were insanely good at potions. It makes sense how they created all those sweets. They would be able to fly through the tests in less than ten minutes at least, but they didn’t, they were lazy, so they’d mooch off you. When they’d get caught, they’d both blame you, which nearly got you in trouble with Snape several times.
Speaking of professors. They would mess with them. They threw snowballs at the back of Professor Quirrell's head. But, after learning the truth about what was going on with Quirrell under the head scarf. Maybe that could be the only thing they’ve ever done that was somewhat valid. It was still bad for Quirrell, he was already taking enough sneering from students the entire time he was working at the school, he was just being used as a vessel.
But that's not the point we’re talking about here. 
There are way too many reasons for why you hate those redheaded twins. You didn’t understand how people put up with them, how they found them entertaining and funny. They were embarrassing. You hated how they excused themselves from responsibility. How they claimed everything they did was a “joke” or “prank” to get out of trouble.
It was like your brain was programmed to put you in a bad mood anytime you thought of them or were around them. Your eyes would roll annoyedly at the sight of them. You would get snippy and aggressive if they even tried talking to you. You did everything in your power to keep yourself away from them for the sake of your mood.
Their entire existence made your blood boil. Fred especially. He’s the worst out of the two of them. But there’s a difference between him and George. Fred is the instigator, George smooths things out, but that doesn’t mean he’s not trouble though. George is less annoying, only a bit less annoying. He’s nearly as annoying as Fred, but it seems as if Fred is more determined to get on your nerves.
And he is. You can tell.
He becomes louder when near you, constantly taps on your shoulder, asking for something when he already knows you won’t give him whatever it is or pretends like he didn’t, he also throws things at you and pretends that he doesn’t, lies or says things wrong on purpose just for you to scoff and correct him, calls you nicknames that you hate, teases you for whatever he can find, it’s as if he nitpicks anything you do so he can use it against you to annoy you, he does every little thing that peeves you only because he wants to get some type of reaction out of you, and the only reason on why he does it? He thinks it’s funny. 
Fred isn’t completely fond of you either.
He knows what bothers you, what gets on your nerves, what makes your blood boil, then he uses it against you, to piss you off. You’re not sure how exactly he knows so much, but just somehow he does. Either it could be because he knows legilimency (which is very unlikely) or it’s that he’s just been listening in on your conversations with friends.
Whatever, what you are sure of is that you can’t stand the Weasley twins. You hate the Weasley twins. You hate Fred and George Weasley. You hate Fred Weasley. You hate him with every bone and muscle in your body.
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hearts4youz · 1 year
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"The Captains Daughter" Chapter Two
comment if u want to be added to my tag list <3 @abbiesxox A/N: Thank you all sooooo much for reading chapter one, it means a lot!! Heres chapter two. From here on out you can expect like 1-2 chapters of this to come out per week!! i'm so excited to share the rest of this story that has been marinating in my braincells for so long lmao.
Word count: 1.5k
Reader pov: You marched into the training facilities for your first session with the masked Lieutenant. You donned a hoodie and leggings, the training rooms were chilly. You walked into the changing rooms to lock up your bag, although it was highly unlikely someone would steal it, this was a military base after all. Fastening the lock around the small cubby, you took off your hoodie and threw it inside as well. Leaving you in a thin cropped t-shirt. You left the locker room and took in the smell of the training area, it was the size of a warehouse and smelled like your high school gymnasium. There were multiple different areas of the facility. A gym, featuring endless sets of weights, squat racks, benches, etc. There was an enclosed area for weapons practice, boasting many different kinds of guns, knives, and any other device used for bodily harm. The base also boasts, an impressive, multi story agility course with different obstacles at each level. Last but not least, there is a recovery room, mostly used for warmups and cooldowns.
After you took it all in, you spotted Ghost doing squats with a great deal of weight on the bar. He sported a skull print balaclava instead of the mask he wore at yesterday's meeting. He also had on tapered black sweatpants, a fitted t-shirt which hugged his muscles in a very flattering way, and tennis shoes. You walked toward him, stopping short and standing by the weight rack so you didn't interrupt his workout.
You watched as he did rep after rep of squats, face contorting more with each one, you could see his face more now with the absence of eye black he wore yesterday. Sweat dripped off his brow, his eyes squeezed shut as he finished the last rep, the bar made a clattering sound as he rested it back on the hooks of the rack. Wiping his face with his sleeve he turned to you.
"Do you sleep with your eyes open," he says abruptly.
"What?"
"Your eyes, are they always like that or am I just that impressive," he says smugly
"No- I," You start.
"Save it, lets get started."
He starts walking at a fast pace to another area of the gym, you jog to catch up. Ghost leads you to three boxing style rings.
"lets start with a spar, consider this a pre-test, I wanna see what you are capable of," Ghost gets straight to business.
You gulped, you're not a bad fighter, but he has an unfair advantage. He's at least 6'2, not to mention you just watched him casually squat 600+ pounds for reps. The two of you stepped into the ring, you tried to not let your nervousness show on your face. You weren't going to be able to overpower him, you were going to have to outsmart him, or be faster than him. Lucky for you, you used to be a competitive runner in high school, placing well in state championships for Cross Country and Track yearly. You also practiced Yoga, agility will be your friend in this matchup.
"Ready?" Ghost said.
"Yes, Simon," you taunted.
hopefully your mention of his name caught him off guard, you ran at him, faking a punch and slipping between his legs, popping up behind him. Your surprise worked, his delayed reaction gave you enough time for you to kick the sensitive area behind his kneecaps. Ghost stumbled forward but caught himself, turning to face you. He threw a punch, you tried to deflect it but he was too strong. Quickly recovering you ran at him again, trying to juke him out by performing another fake move. He must have picked up on your style quick because he stuck his leg out to trip you before you could jet by him. Realizing you lost the upper hand, you tried to stand up before he could pin you. Instead, he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and hauled you up from the ground.
"Round two," he said gruffly
The second time around was worse than the first. You didn't have the element of surprise. He took you down within seconds
"I've seen enough," dissatisfaction present in his eyes.
"I know I did poorly, but to be fair," you tried to justify yourself.
"Do you think fights are fair?" He chastised.
"Let me tell you that none of the men you face in the field will be as gentle as I. Your little trick? Do you think an enemy soldier would even give you time to talk?" He continued, voice becoming more of a yell.
"How did you even get here?" He questioned.
"I'm not a bad shot, for what I lack in strength I make up for in speed and agility too."
Ghost raised a brow
"You've got a lot to work on in terms of hand to hand combat, but lets test your aim," He said.
Feeling more confident for this next test, you followed him over to the shooting range. The two of you entered the room, paper targets on one end, soldiers practicing their aim on another. Ghost picks out a variety of firearms. He hands you a Pistol first.
"Go ahead," he gestures to the targets.
You nodded, drawing a deep breath in and exhaling as you lined yourself up with the target 50 yards away. Inhaling again and holding it this time, you brought the gun up in front of your face, extending your arms and firing 3 shots rapidly. Two hit the center circle, one skimmed the edge between the center and the ring next to it.
You turned back to face Ghost, he only handed you the second weapon, a rifle. You repeated the same process before, this time letting the gun rest in the crook of your neck and holding it against your cheek as you fired three more shots in quick succession. All three hit the center this time.
Ghost handed you an SMG when you turned around. Holding the new gun in the same way as the rifle, one pull of the trigger fired multiple bullets, these were less accurate but still impressive. Clicking the safety on the gun, you handed it back to Ghost, he put away the weapons without a word.
"That's all for today, you are excused Sergeant," he says bluntly.
"Thank you for training me sir," You said, Mock politeness dripping from your tone.
"By the way, don't call me Simon. It's Ghost, or Lieutenant." Ghost grunted and turned to go, leaving you alone in the range. You stood for a moment, replaying the last 45 minutes in your mind. You had hoped to impress him with your marksman skills, but he seemed unimpressed. You needed to decompress, a run would relax you perhaps? You walked towards the locker rooms to change into warmer attire, the weather was cold in late November.
Ghost's pov:
The first day training the Sergeant, Y/N wasn't a total bust. I recalled the events of our session as I changed. She was a decent rifle shot, a terrible fighter though. Her use of my name was alarming, a clever move though. Soap probably told her, they talked through the meeting yesterday. Can't blame em' though, Price sure does love the sound of his own voice.
As I was about to leave the changing rooms, I spotted Y/N leaving the building, it was awfully cold outside to be going out. She had earbuds in, so it wasn't hard to follow her out the door. She lingered in front of the door for a moment, I stayed inside the vestibule leading to the outdoors. She took a breath and started jogging, turning the corner and leaving my sight.
I didn't know she was a runner, she mentioned she was fast after our spar though. Training after hours is quite admirable actually. Maybe she won't be such a letdown for the team after all.
I shuddered at the thought, Remember what happened last time you overestimated a newbies skills. I told myself. I will never let that happen to someone under my command again. Wincing at the memory, I tried to push the thoughts aside, but it comes flooding back to me
"It wasn't your fault Simon," Price
"There was nothing we could do," A doctor
"I'm sorry," Another doctor
Two lives
Gone because I authorized them for the mission
I thought they were ready
I didn't train them hard enough
I treated the two of them as friends, as brothers. I grew attached too quickly. I wasn't as close with them as I am the rest of the squad, fuck I barely knew them.
One week
One week they were here, their first mission they were so giddy, so eager to prove themselves, two boys about to become men. I remember the feeling when I was in their position.
Next, they were gone.
Never again will I let that happen to someone.
Never will I let that happen to Y/N.
For now, I'll pretend I don't care.
She can hate me all she wants, she can think I don't give a shit about her. Better that than her trusting me and me letting her down. For now, I won't care about her. Until she can prove herself worthy, I won't treat her as a friend.
Because I don't want to see a friend come back in a body bag.
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jasmines-library · 1 year
Text
Today I Saw The Whole World {1}
Chapter 1 - Out of body, out of mind.
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Summary: You are Sam Winchester’s twin sister, cursed with the same blood running through your veins. When Sam begins experiencing his visions, you too discover a new skill. You can see into the veil.
Warnings: none really for this chapter, some mentions of violence, dissociation and an out of body experience.
Word count: 1.5k
Notes: This chapter follows the first season of supernatural, I’m planning to write further into the show in later chapters. This is kind of a trial chapter so feedback is appreciated. Also there may be some stuff that doesn’t quite fit with the show and that’s because I’m too lazy to go back and check, but who cares because it’s fan fiction and I can do what I want.
Also the title is a song by pierce the veil, which I thought was fitting. So please excuse the pun.
edit: went through and corrected some spelling errors. Apologies for any bad grammar that I missed.
“Y/N?”  
“Hmm?” You blinked slowly, snapping out of your reverie and turning your head towards Sam who furrowed his brow at you. 
You had been doing it again. Watching the people absentmindedly. You had grown a habit of doing that recently; within the last few weeks or so, people seemed to catch your eye more frequently. At first it was only one or two every few days, when you were well charged before a hunt and they would only be there for a few seconds before vanishing, but now your sightings were coming closer together and often lasted slightly longer. The people were peculiar; like they were oblivious to most of the world around them. They always seemed faded at first, until you put all of your focus into what you were watching, drowning out everything around you. You had been watching a woman perched on a bench beneath a lamppost. She was young with a sad look about her face, and wore her hair pinned neatly in an up-do. The woman wore a dark pink corset dress that seemed too formal for some park opposite a shitty motel en route to a shitty town in Arizona, and you found that despite the brightness of the lamppost beaming down in the darkness, no shadow was cast around her. Rolling the ring which sat on her left hand between her index and her thumb, she watched the world go by in front of her. Her gaze was off though as if she was watching the world through a screen and wasn’t actually in the room. That was until her striking blue eyes settled on your face hidden behind the motel room window.  
Sam followed your eye-line out of the window to the bench to find that you were staring blankly at nothing. “Are you listening?” 
“What? Sure.” You mumbled, eyes flitting back to the now empty bench before finally focusing on your brothers who were gathered around the table. You didn’t miss the worried look that Sam shot Dean.
“So you’re clear on the plan?” 
“I-“ 
Dean let out a deep sigh and dragged his hands across his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Sweetheart, you have to listen. It’s important.” 
“I know” you rubbed at your eyes with the heel of your palms. You had found yourself becoming increasingly weary as of late. “I’m sorry.”
Dean’s features softened as he rose from the table, his chair squealing on the cheap titled floor, and crouched down next to you on the sofa. He was able to cross the space in two strides. “Where’s your head at, kid?”
You shook your head. If you were going to be totally honest even you didn’t know. You were confused; seeing things that were there one minute and then gone the next was hardly harrowing. “I don’t know.” 
”Y/N/N, whatever’s going on you know you can tell us right?” Sam spoke next, you hadn’t realised he had moved from his chair to be near his siblings. “Is it like my visions?” 
The three of you had recently discovered that Sammy was having visions in his sleep, at first you all thought that they were nightmares but soon realised that they were visions once he predicted the outcome of a hunt. He had pondered whether you were experiencing something similar, considering the two of you were twins, and not only shared a birthday, but a similar mindset too, though you had shown no signs that something was very different.
“You have to tell us if something is wrong.” 
You knew that, of course you did. And you would tell them. Once you knew what was happening. Dean was smart, Sam even smarter. You figured they would figure it out before you did anyway, you would just have to lie to them for a while so you could have a headstart. “It’s nothing, I promise. I’m just tired after all the hunting we’ve been doing recently. I need more than 4 hours of sleep.” 
Sam let out a low chuckle. “Get some sleep then kid. We’ll brief you tomorrow.” 
~~~
That night you slept restlessly; it hadn’t taken long for you to drift to sleep to the soft murmurs of you brothers, but once you were asleep, you didn’t stay that way for long. 
Sitting up abruptly, your eyes were immediately drawn to the bright light of Sam’s laptop illuminating his face in the dark room. The second thing was Dean’s heavy snoring from where he was sprawled out across the bed he had claimed as his. 
Sam seemed elbow deep in his research; he didn’t react as you groggily swung your legs over the side of the pull out couch and made your way into the small kitchen.
“Sam? What are you still doing up?” You asked, peering over his shoulder. You knew that annoyed him. He was reading up on ghosts and their ability to move about the veil. Ghosts? Tomorrow's hunt was a demon hunt.
 “Sammy?” You waved your hand across his face, trying to get his attention. He didn’t react, instead his eyes flicked tirelessly across the screen and he took a swig from one of the many bottles scattered about the papers on the table. 
“You know it’s rude to ignore people, Samuel.” You told him rolling your eyes at the mess. Still, he made no reply. 
“Fine.” You turned away. “Be like that, assface.” 
You reached out to pick up one of the empty bottles from the table, only to find your hand  passing through it. You recoiled quickly, taken back by the motion. You reached out again, trying to grip the cool glass around your calloused hand only for the same thing to happen again. 
“What the-“ you muttered. 
You made your way over to try to shake Dean awake since Sam had decided to ignore you, and that was when you saw it. 
Your own body, curled up beneath a blanket on the pullout sofa. 
~~~ 
It was a firm shake to the shoulder that woke you up. The sunlight was seeping between the thin curtains and your two brothers were moving about the motel room gathering all of their stuff. You groaned and turned away from the hands on your shoulders, trying to bury yourself within the warmth of the covers. But the hands rolled you back over. 
“Nope. Come on sweetheart, time to get up.” You peeled your eyes open to see Dean’s meadow green ones staring down at you. 
Sighing, you pushed yourself up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes before beginning to get ready to leave for the hunt. You couldn’t help but reflect on what had happened last night. 
“Man, I had the strangest dream last night.” 
“Like vision weird?” You twin asked from across the room, stuffing your clothes into a well worn duffel since he had already packed his own and was going to go stir crazy if you didn’t do yours soon. 
“No.” You shook your head. “Nothing like that. It was definitely a dream but it was so…lucid. It felt real.” 
Dean was still sceptical that you weren’t having visions. You had started acting strange when Sam had started getting his visions and it took him a while to come clean about them, but Dean knew that you were more stubborn than your twin; you were a Winchester after all. “You wanna tell us about it.” 
“Well…” you started “there wasn’t really a whole lot to it. I woke up here. Everything was almost exactly as it was when we left it last night. Dean was passed out in his bed and Sam was up researching. Then completely ignored me, even when I waved my hands in his face and read all of his stuff over his shoulder.” You turned to your brother who was looking at you quizzically. “You weren’t even researching anything useful for the hunt. It was completely random.” 
“What’s so weird about that?” Dean asked through a mouthful of leftover fries he had pulled out of the fridge and decided to stuff his face with instead of throwing them away. 
You grimaced at the sight. “Well, when I tried to clean up the mess you two left, my hand went straight through the bottle. And then… and then I saw myself. Asleep on the couch.”
“Huh.” Dean said. “That is freaky.”
“Y/n…” Sam asked cautiously, “what exactly was I researching?” 
“Ghosts? I don’t know. I was kinda freaked out by my own body.” 
Sam was silent. It worried you, but it was when he turned his laptop around to face you that your complexion paled. Sam had been researching ghosts.
~~~
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valinbean · 25 days
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Chapter 3: Falling for the Mystery
Ford/ gn! Reader! Chapter 1: Ford the Love of Bill Chapter 2: Bad Mood Rising
1.5k words
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Journal entry #3
‘Staying the night at the Mystery Shack has been a surreal experience. The brothers, Ford and Stan, are eccentric and fascinating in their own right. Ford's intellect and quiet demeanor are captivating, while Stan's boisterous energy is infectious. Today, we're venturing into the heart of the woods to investigate the peculiar anomalies I've observed.
As we delve deeper into the mystery, I find myself drawn to Ford in a way I can't quite explain. There's a subtle pull, a gentle tug at my heartstrings whenever I catch his gaze. It's a sensation that's both unfamiliar and exhilarating. Perhaps it's the thrill of exploring the unknown together, or maybe there's something more profound at play. I'm eager to uncover the nature of this connection and to understand why it feels so significant.’
As Y/n prepared to leave the guest room, they heard the sounds of Stan's morning routine: grumbling and the clanging of pots and pans. Intrigued, they decided to check on him. However, as they approached the bathroom, they noticed steam billowing out from beneath the door. The scent of Ford's cologne wafted through the air, hinting at his presence.
Just as Y/n was about to turn back, the bathroom door swung open, revealing Ford in his signature red sweater. His hair was still damp, and he was clearly in a rush. "Ah, Y/n," he exclaimed, "I was just finishing up. Please, go ahead! I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready."
Y/n's cheeks flushed as they smiled softly. "Thank you, Ford. I definitely need some coffee before we leave. I shouldn't be too long."
As Ford passed them in the hall, he turned quickly. "How do you like your coffee?"
Y/n hesitated, not wanting to be a burden. "Oh, I can make it. You really don't need to worry."
"Please, I insist," he replied. "You've done so much for our research already."
The word "our" caught Y/n off guard. Their heart skipped a beat as they realized the significance of that simple pronoun. "Only if you insist," they replied, trying to hide their excitement. "Two sugars and cream, please."
Y/n quickly headed into the bathroom and washed their face, their mind racing. The events of the morning had left them feeling a mix of anticipation and confusion. The growing connection between Ford and them was undeniable, and they couldn't help but wonder where it would lead.
The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across the table. As Y/n entered, they found a steaming cup of coffee waiting for them, accompanied by a map and a note from Ford. He had marked several points of interest on the map, including the locations where they had found the strange hands and eyes, a cave he had explored in the past, and a clearing near Trembly Falls.
"Here's your coffee, two sugars and cream," Ford said, setting down his own mug, which was emblazoned with the logo of Backsupmore University.
Y/n sat down and sipped their coffee, glancing at the map as Ford explained his plan. "Sounds like a solid plan," they replied.
Just then, Stan emerged from the kitchen with plates of pancakes and eggs. "Almost sounds like a date if it wasn't for the feeling of looming dread," he joked, chuckling to himself.
Y/n's cheeks flushed as they took a sip of their coffee. "It's scientific research, Stanley. Very important research," Ford replied, his cheeks turning pink.
Stan rolled his eyes and retreated to his office, slamming the door behind him. As Y/n watched him go, they couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. They knew that Stan was worried about their safety, but they were determined to continue their research.
As they embarked on their journey, delving into the woods, the air grew heavy with an unnatural energy. The trees seemed to close in around them, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, casting long, eerie shadows. A sense of unease washed over Y/n as they approached the site where they had discovered the disembodied hands.
Suddenly, a pair of hands emerged from the undergrowth, reaching out towards Y/n with clawed fingers. Y/n gasped and instinctively pulled away, but Ford was quicker. He grabbed Y/n's arm and pulled them to his chest, his eyes filled with concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Y/n nodded, their heart still pounding. Being so close to being grabbed and now to Ford, their cheeks turned a bright pink. "Yes, I'm fine... uhm, thank you," they replied.
Ford awkwardly let go of Y/n, his cheeks matching theirs in color. "I, uhm... Let's get the sample," he said.
Together, they approached the hands, examining them with caution. The hands were cold and brittle, their skin a sickly gray. Despite their appearance, they were surprisingly intact, their fingers still curled into claws.
With a sense of trepidation, Y/n reached out and carefully grasped one of the hands. As they did so, a surge of energy flowed through them, causing them to shiver. Ford noticed Y/n's reaction and placed a comforting hand on their shoulder.
"It's okay," he said. "The energy is probably just a residual effect of whatever created these hands."
After collecting the specimen, Ford took it from Y/n, placing it in a container and setting it into his pack.
They continued their journey, following the map Ford had drawn. The woods grew thicker and more treacherous as they went, the undergrowth becoming increasingly dense and tangled. Finally, they emerged from the trees and found themselves at the edge of a small lake.
The lake was a strange sight. The water was a sickly green color, and the surrounding vegetation was deformed and disfigured. Frogs with bulging eyes and misshapen limbs croaked from the reeds, and the ground around the lake was scorched and barren.
They collected samples of the water, the plants, and the frogs, carefully storing them in their backpacks. By the time they finished, it was late afternoon. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the lake.
As they turned to leave, their hands brushed against each other. They both froze, their hearts pounding in their chests. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. Y/n could feel the warmth of Ford's hand against theirs, and they knew that they weren't alone.
They pulled away slowly, Ford and Y/n’s eyes meeting. The tension between them was palpable, a silent understanding that hung heavy in the air. Y/n could feel their cheeks burning with embarrassment, but they couldn't bring themselves to look away.
Ford cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "We should probably get going," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Y/n nodded, their heart still racing. As they turned to leave, they glanced back at the lake one last time. The setting sun cast an eerie glow on the water, and the deformed creatures seemed to watch them with silent, unblinking eyes.
As they walked back through the woods, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had washed over them. The lake had been a disturbing sight, and they couldn't help but wonder what had caused such devastation.
As they walked back through the woods, the setting sun cast long, eerie shadows. The events of the day had left Y/n shaken and exhausted, but they couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that had been building within them. The lake had been a disturbing sight, but it had also fueled their determination to uncover the mysteries of this strange place.
Their next stop was the cave Ford had mentioned on the map. As they approached the entrance, Y/n felt a shiver run down their spine. The cave was dark and foreboding, its mouth yawning open like a gaping maw.
With a deep breath, they stepped inside. The air was cold and damp, and the walls were covered in a strange, black and green substance that seemed to glow faintly in the darkness. As they ventured deeper into the cave, the substance became more prevalent, coating the walls and ceiling in thick, uneven layers.
They tried to push their way through the substance, but it was thick and sticky, and it seemed to cling to them. After several attempts, they realized that they would not be able to make it any further. Reluctantly, Y/n reached out and took a small sample of the substance, carefully placing it in a container.
As they turned to leave, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. They had hoped to explore the cave further, but the strange substance had prevented them from doing so. Nevertheless, they were determined to analyze the sample and learn more about its properties.
"What do you think it is?" Y/n asked, his voice echoing in the darkness.
"I'm not sure," Ford replied. "It seems to be some kind of energy source."
Y/n nodded. "It's definitely anomalous. I've never seen anything like it before."
"Maybe it's connected to the other anomalies we've found," Y/n suggested.
Ford's eyes lit up. "That's a possibility. We should definitely analyze the sample and see what we can learn."
As they made their way back to the Mystery Shack, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that they had only scratched the surface of the mysteries that lay hidden within these woods. The strange lake, the disembodied hands, the glowing substance in the cave - all of these things pointed to a force that was far more powerful and mysterious than they could have imagined. And they knew that they were only just beginning to uncover its secrets.
-----
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heavenlyakin · 10 months
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Part 1: Somebody Else
Summary: Your life is forever changed when your most trusted advisor arrives home with an engagement treaty. As Queen of your Kingdom, you knew there would be sacrifices but little did you know how much the cost of these sacrifices would be. What do you do when your mind wants one thing but your heart longs for another?
Characters: Reader (some descriptions), Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo (only mentioned), Camilla (oc advisor), Callus (oc advisor)
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Royalty AU, reader is 24, Geto and Gojo are 31 so age gap I guess.
Length: 1.5k words
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The night he showed up at the castle gates it was raining. It had been raining since he left weeks before. Suguru Geto has left to seek out a treaty with the neighboring nation on your order, but you hadn’t expected him to return so soon. When word reached you, you changed into the closest gown to you. Griping at your chambermaids to hurry with the corset and lace you into the dress's bodice, you began to feel bad. They were awoken from their sleep, not used to dressing their Queen so late into the night. 
The walk to the throne room felt like an eternity. Your heeled steps rang through the quiet halls, the candles burning low. The Queen’s guard followed behind you as you entered the room to your throne. As you sat, you glanced at Suguru’s face, desperate to read any sort of clue from him. Nothing could be read from that look, all emotion had been erased from his face as if he knew others would be looking for the same thing. 
“Speak,” you spoke, looking directly at him. 
“Your Highness,” Suguru kneeled, his head down. “I have returned with an answer to your proposal.” 
“Do not make your Queen wait any longer,” you ordered. 
He looked up to you, face still unreadable as he sighed. “They will not agree to your terms as is. They have sent a counteroffer, an amendment if you will.” 
Chatter erupted around you, giving you a chance to look at Sugur, really look at him. The circles around his dark eyes hinted at little sleep, his hair in much need of a wash, and his clothes a cleaning. Had he traveled there and returned immediately after receiving the news? 
“Quiet,” you ordered. “We will hear the amendment.” 
Suguru swallowed, his eyes giving away the pain that echoed in his voice. “Your hand in marriage to their King, Satoru Gojo.” 
You could not quiet the explosion of noise that followed. 
– 
Picking at a loose piece of skin near your cuticle, you notice a droplet of blood forming at the base. You cease, folding your hand into the other to conceal it. The council is too busy arguing about King Gojo’s terms of the treaty from the week before. It had been like this since, you sitting at the head of the table, watching men bark at each other over who was right and who was wrong. 
Suguru has not been present since recovering from an illness acquired from traveling in such poor conditions. You blame yourself, for sending him out during the cold rainy season. Too many times have your thoughts wandered to him, but a visit more than once every few days would look suspicious. You have had to rely on your eyes in the castle, letting them report news back to you as they ready you for bed each night. 
“Your Highness, I’m begging for your attention,” Callus, the oldest member of the council, begs. 
You nod, allowing him to speak to you directly. 
“If King Gojo is serious about the amendment, the country wins a victory without having to go to war. Controlling not only our harbor but having his country’s navy, we would no longer have to fear attacks from across the sea.” Callus moves boats from Gojo’s country to your harbor. “We would bolster our defenses and increase trade tenfold.” 
You sigh, nodding. He is correct. “What have others to say?” The rest of the council begins to speak at once, but you raise your hand, stopping them. 
“Camilla,” you speak to the only woman on your council. She had been appointed by your mother, the first Queen in three generations of male heirs. She is the youngest on the council, closest to your age, making her opinions matter more to you emotionally. She’s always been a warm light in your life, like an older sister. 
The others had been appointed by your grandfather, months before he died. So they’ve stuck around, unfortunately. At least they know everything there is to know about the kingdom, but they only have their interests at heart. 
“Yes, my Queen,” she speaks, her voice making you smile. 
“What do you think about King Gojo’s offer?” 
“Test him.” She suggests, a grin on her cheeks. “Invite him here,” she brushes her strawberry blonde hair off her shoulder. “Introduce him to court, show him around, see if we can get inside that cruel brain of his.” 
“Cruel?” You furrow your brows. 
She nods. “Don’t you remember him pulling your hair when you were a child?” 
The memory escapes you. However, you do recall the visit he made to the palace with his father, the former King. Satoru was a teenager at the time, you were only 9 years of age. They visited for a time, many parties and feasts had taken place, scattering your memories around those. 
“He is no longer a child,” you reply. “Draft the invitation. I’ll sign it and have it sent tomorrow. Make sure Suguru sees it before I do. He may be ill, but that does not excuse him from doing this favor for me.” 
You stand, leaving the room as quiet chatter lingers behind you. 
The royal chambers are on the other side of the castle, making it annoying to walk back and forth without being stopped by members of the court. On your way, three ladies and two noblemen stop you with requests, most of them inquiring about marriage blessings. The courting season has yet to begin, but this isn’t surprising. When members spend the winter at court, they often seek out proposals. 
By the time you enter your chambers, you’re exhausted mentally. Since last summer’s drought, the kingdom has needed more attention than normal. For the most part, you’ve managed to keep everyone fed, even those hit the hardest by the drought. Trade has been stable as well as fishing. Now, there’s been flooding everywhere since the rain started, and it has not let up since. You wonder if this is the Gods’ cruel way of making up for the drought; by drowning you all. 
At only 24 years of age, you have so little time and experience under your belt. You’ve reigned for two years, since your mother’s passing. She fell ill and passed quickly, leaving you alone with the Kingdom in need of a strong Queen to lead. 
You’re not so sure you’ve been that. 
You begin to walk towards your dressing chamber, ready to change into something comfortable for reading before dinner, when a voice scares you. 
“I’ve not seen you look this unhappy since your mother passed,” Suguru’s familiar voice speaks from your bed. 
“Suguru,” you turn to face him from across the room. He’s lying on your bed as if it's his, dressed in black pants and a deep burgundy tunic. His hair isn’t tied back, but instead falling around his face and shoulders. “I believed you ill.” 
He shrugs, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed, showing he’s not in shoes but just socks. Thank god, you don’t want to have to sleep in dirty bedding. He approaches you, reaching his hand out towards your face. 
You allow him to caress your cheek, placing your hand over his and leaning into his touch. Suguru has been your main advisor since you ascended the throne, appointed by you and you alone. When you were younger, you always knew you wanted him on your side when it came time. He was so much older and wiser than you. 
Despite being a decade and some older than you, he always made time for you when you were a child. His father was your mother and grandfather's most trusted advisor, so it makes sense that he would fill those shoes for you after his father died during your mother’s reign. When you asked, he answered before you could even finish the question. He remained by your side from coronation day on. 
“Suguru,” you whisper and his eyes burn into yours. 
I want you. I need you. I love you. 
It all goes through your mind but you choke it down. 
“You shouldn’t be here.” You pull away from him, turning your back to him so you don’t have to see that disappointed look in his eyes again. “Go rest in your rooms. The council will be sending you an invitation to review soon. It’d be suspicious if you weren’t present when it arrived.” 
“-----,” your name sounds foreign from the lips of anyone but him. 
“Your Highness,” you correct. 
“Understood,” he disappears through the door behind your tapestry by your bed. 
You fall to your knees as the door shuts, disappointed in yourself. An overwhelming feeling of grief washes through your body, aching in your chest and spreading to your limbs. 
Why can’t you let him love you? 
Whatever the reason, you know it's for the best of your kingdom. Shaking your head of those thoughts, you call for your chambermaids, undress, and settle in for some reading before dinner. Time passes by and before you know it they’re back to dress you again.
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Unknown Pt. 2
Pt. 1 HERE
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: in this second part reader finally finds out something more about her ability, though it was not what she expected there will be someone to calm her down.
Warnings: none
Pairing: Wednesday x Fem!Reader
Not a lot of Wednesday interaction here but the one that is there is a key one! I promise you’ll see more interactions with them in the next chapter! Thank you for reading and please like!✨
———
The following day you woke up in that empty room of yours, too anxious to start this day. It would be the first time following lessons here at Nevermore, and even though you were VERY nervous, you were curious as to what the subjects were and to how they would be taught. You decided it would be a clever idea to skip breakfast because you wanted to avoid being made fun of. Plus, you were still wearing Wednesday’s clothes because you forgot to dry your uniform.
As you had skipped breakfast and had nothing to do, you decided to head over to the first class, it was the one with Miss Thornhill, who taught about all kinds of plants, wether they were edible or not, good or bad or even if they were usable in the medic field. You certainly had made some noise while getting in the greenhouse and the teacher heard you, coming your way with a small (and somewhat creepy) smile on her face.
“You must be (Y/N), right? It’s nice to have you here. Why are you here so soon?” She asked. Too many questions, you thought. “Yeah that’s me. I’m here so soon because I have nowhere to be and I don’t want to get bullied. I figured that here I could just avoid them, since no one wants to go to class early so here I am” you said and looked at the woman in front of you, who then gave you a small smile. “Mrs. Weems Told me what happened yesterday and told me about you. If you need Anybody to talk to I’m here” you nodded as a silent thanks and then everybody got in the room.
Everybody sat together as the desks were made for two people, and you sat alone but Wednesday and Enid sat behind you, saying you a good morning. Wednesday noticed how you still had her clothes on, of course you did, you had nothing else to wear and the orphanage had no plans on bringing you your stuff. During that class you caught a glimpse of someone’s ability. Xavier could animate drawings, Yoko was a vampire and Enid a werewolf. You also wondered what you were and you probably always will wonder that.
The other classes went on more or less the same way of the first one and you were getting tired of hearing people whisper things about you then look at you and giggle. This is why at lunch when you knew everybody would be together, you decided to go take a look in the woods behind the school. You loved the nature, and this forest, as creepy as it was, was also really beautiful.
You sat down against the tree to eat your lunch, when suddenly you heard the sounds of the winter leaves cracking under someone’s feet. You turned around to see Wednesday come towards you. “(Y/N), I finally found you” she said and you stood up to match her height, kind of, since she was really short. “There’s a monster going around and killing people in these woods. You shouldn’t be out here on your own. Come on let’s get back to school” she said and tried to get you to go back inside the building.
You chuckled at what you heard. A monster? That couldn’t be possible. “Yeah right, a monster. Seriously Addams?” You asked her, raising your arms to the side only to let them fall back against your sides in annoyance “did the others put you up to this?” You asked her, using an accusing tone. You truly couldn’t trust anyone… “I act under no one’s command but my own, (Y/N). I’m serious, this thing has killed a lot of people already and it could get both of us too if we don’t get back inside the school” she said raising her tone a bit. She was dead serious, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to believe a word she said.
“Why would I believe you Addams!?” You raised your tone as a consequence to Wednesday doing the same thing. Your pupils squinted, taking the shape of a cat eye pupil. Wednesday furrowed her eyebrows. She could see something had changed in your appearance, but she was too distant to pinpoint what it actually was “because I have no reason to lie to a no one” she said without even thinking of it. Typical, she always does this. “Yeah right. If I’m a no one them why stand up for me when Bianca pushed me in the shower, huh?” Your hands, and most specifically your fingers were starting to take the shape of claws, nails getting longer and pointy “if I’m a no one here and yet you stood up to me, why not stand up to me when we were at the same normie school? What’s the difference now!?”
The white part of your eyes was slowly turning into a darker color, going to black. Only then Wednesay realized what had changed. “(Y/N).” The shorter girl tried calling for you in a lower voice tone, but you kept on rambling about what was different from then. “(Y/N)!” Wednesday called again, this time in a much different, higher and more authoritative tone. “WHAT!” You snapped at her. She lowered her tone once again “your hands.”
You looked at her confused and then looked at your hands. Your expression then completely switched from a mad one to a panicked one as you looked at Wednesday as to ask for help. You didn’t know what had happened to you. All you knew was that you were scared and you didn’t know what was happening to you. You had never felt emotions this strong before. “It’s okay. Try to breathe slower” she instructed you, and following her advice your hands turned back to normal and so did your eyes.
“Come on let’s get you back to the school and tell Mrs. Weems what happened, before she kills us for being out here for too long, as much as I’d want that.” The brunette said as she started walking back to the school. As soon as you got to her office Wednesday explained what she saw and then she left as Weems asked her to. “Can you tell me what happened (Y/N)? What did you do that made you uh… change your aspects?” She asked with a kind, soft voice tone. God that woman really knew how to talk to people, especially the most sensitive ones.
“I told you I don’t know exactly… all I know is that I thought Wednesday was lying to me and I got really mad.. I’m used to people lying to me but this time I just felt different. I didn’t know what was happening to me until Wednesday made me notice and calmed me down. I don’t know what happened to me and it scares me a lot” you told her honestly as you wrapped your arms around yourself, this was something you’d do whenever you feel insecure.
Weems noticed that and tried to make you feel at ease, but at the same time she had to break the news to you. “I don’t know what to say (Y/N), we never had someone like you here before. It seems that whatever it is, it’s triggered by strong emotions and today you probably awakened it. Plus, by how Wednesday described it, it can’t be something good.” She sighed looking at you with a helpless look, she truly wanted to help you but she didn’t know how to.
“We’ll keep an eye on you okay? In the meantime I’ll do some research so I can help you figure out what it is and how to control it, there must be something in our books that can help us figure out what’s going on with you. We don’t know yet what calms your… instincts, but since apparently Wednesday’s presence helped you earlier, look for her whenever you feel it happening again okay?” You nodded at the woman in front of you, then looked away like a lost puppy.
“Now go rest for the night and try to stay calm, okay? You’ll find s little something in your bed when you get inside” she said smiling motherly at you, then watched as you left towards Ophelia hall. You tried ignoring everyone you met and as soon as you stepped inside your room, you saw a bunch of clothes on your bed, and a small note, from Weems.
‘Dear (Y/N).
Given how badly you’ve been treated during your life, I deem it necessary that you now start living like you deserve and that you get treated like you deserve. This is why I bought you some nice clothes, they’re all new so all you have to do is take away the target. Eventually you’ll fit in here, trust me. Nevermore might not feel so perfect now, but it will soon.
Psa: I’ve had a little help when picking the clothes as I didn’t know what your tastes were. These are two completely different styles but who knows, maybe you can mix them and make your own style!’
You did take a better look at the clothes and it didn’t take you much to realize who had helped Weems as half of the clothes were white and black, and the other half was fully colored.
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toast-tales · 6 months
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Cursed Cravings, Chapter 6: Lessons in Futility
In which Christopher gets a talking-to from Sam. Contains: ~1.5k words Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!
Christopher had retired to his bedroom for the night after his attempt to feed Danny, preferring to sulk in isolation—not that such a thing had ever been hard to come by for him. There had been many times over the years where he might forget that he had someone else in his home at all, if it weren’t for the fact that this awful, grotesque form could smell them so well, even from across the entire house. Even when he tucked himself away upstairs, Danny’s scent was still entwined faintly in his senses.
Thanks to Danny’s friend, he’d done what he had to do this morning to keep the curse at bay, so the pain in his stomach wasn’t so bad yet. It was tolerable—just the gentlest of reminders that he was fucked, instead of the overwhelming ocean of misery it would eventually become. 
He had another week or two, at least, before he drowned again.
The days that immediately followed when he did it were always when his mind felt clearest. And this time, he didn’t have to worry about when he’d find the next person, or if he would at all, and how long he’d have to endure the pain of that infernal magic eating away at his insides and demanding, always demanding more. 
So, in the absence of that usual anxiety, he was left with the much more uncomfortable prospect of the longer term, and the grimness that was his future. Or what was left of it, anyways.
She certainly won’t be the one to end this. 
In the midst of his gloomy rumination, he thought he could hear something downstairs, though he assumed it was just Sam. If there was actually trouble, Sam would alert him. He didn’t particularly want to confront Danny again yet if it wasn’t necessary. There was a chance he could get her to tolerate his presence if he took things slowly—offered her nicer accommodations in return for a more cooperative attitude, perhaps.
Despite his windows being very firmly shut, a breeze blew through the room, raising the hair on his arms slightly. His eyes idly scanned about as he laid back on his bed. “Is there a problem, Sam?” 
“Oh, no, no problem at all. I just thought I’d check on you, let you know I put Danny in the guest room, see if you wanted any tea-”
Christopher sat up in bed immediately, halting Sam’s blatant attempt at skipping past some particularly crucial information. “You what?” 
“Well, you usually like chamomile before bed, so I-”
“No, no. Don’t you try this with me right now,” Christopher muttered darkly, his eyes scanning futilely around the room in search of where his manservant’s voice had come from. Sam’s voice had floated around the room without giving him a place for his eyes to land on, so he chose to glare at a suspiciously sheepish curtain. “You put her in the guest room without asking me first?” 
“You wouldn’t have said yes anyways,” the curtain protested. 
“What if she tries to escape?” Not to mention this throws my whole plan out the window if Sam’s already let her out of that cage. I can only offer so many incentives for her to not actively hate me.
“Dude, it’s still a giant room. She can’t even get off the bed without help. I’m gonna check on her all the time, and I don’t sleep. You know that.” 
Christopher growled, mostly annoyed that Sam was right. Even so, he shook some of the blankets off of him with an irritated jerk of his arm. “I’m going to go put her back.” 
The curtain inflated a little, almost as if it was smug. “No, you aren’t. I locked her door. Give it a rest for tonight, or I’ll lock yours too.” 
“Sam, you’re forgetting your place.” It was hard to muster up any sort of authority, however, when there wasn’t anyone to actually aim his withering gaze at. 
“I am the place, Chris.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.” Christopher sighed, too tired to argue, knowing it wasn’t an argument he would ever win. Not when his manservant was an incorporeal spirit that could slip a rug out from under him or lock him in his own room on a whim. He was just lucky that Sam was usually incredibly loyal to him. 
Sam didn’t respond, leaving Christopher with the conversational equivalent of a brick wall to argue with. He flopped back down onto the bed, defeated. 
The lamp on his nightstand turned itself on, the flame flickering weakly. “You know, you should try being nicer to Danny. I think there’s a real shot of breaking our curse with her. She did technically volunteer to stay here willingly. Plus, she’s actually pretty nice.” 
Christopher gave the lamp a weary, dead-eyed stare. “Did you see the way she talked to me? She wouldn’t even eat the food I made for her earlier. She threw it at me. I don’t have a chance.” He stared blankly at the ceiling, a decade-long weariness settling into his bones. “She didn’t scream, but she still thinks I’m a monster. It’s no different than all the others.” 
A pillow from beside him rose with a vengeance and smacked him square in the face. He sat up again, glaring at the offending, seemingly innocent pillow. “Sam, I swear to god, I will-”
“THAT was your idea of ‘nice’ earlier? Really?” 
Christopher sighed bitterly. “Well then, since you’ve got it all figured out, what would you suggest that we haven’t tried already, a million times before?” 
“Well, I’ve already gotten the first step out of the way for you, giving her a nicer place to stay than a cage. You’re welcome. Maybe you could try, y’know, talking to her? Ask her about her hobbies, her family, whatever. Just try and think about how you’d like to be treated if you were in her place.” 
“That never works anyways,” he said with a grimace. “You know it doesn’t.”
“You have to TRY.” 
Christopher rolled his eyes. “She won’t talk to me, Sam. You’re delusional if you think she’s going to be the one to break my curse.” 
“OUR curse, may I remind you. And may I also remind you that the deadline for that is-”
“I know,” Christopher growled, letting out a bit more irritation than he’d intended. His face fell slightly as he sighed. Time passed so agonizingly slowly and yet, the deadline that Sybil had given him was approaching so soon. A month. That’s all they had left, before he was doomed to be a fucking giant forever. It already seemed like forever, anyways. Ten years of this? He could hardly remember being human, eating real food, laughing with friends and hosting parties—a time before he had to hide a set of grotesque horns with his hair every morning. It was like the distant dreams of a different person entirely, tinged with a hazy light but not entirely real. 
He could almost feel Sam draw back, their voice quieter now as the flame of the lamp died down slightly as well. “Pardon me for saying so, but it doesn’t even feel like you’ve been…trying, anymore. We have this perfect opportunity waltz up to our door right before we reach the deadline, and you’re just going to…give up?” 
“What’s the point?” Christopher whispered. He should have been angrier at Sam for saying something so brazen, but he couldn’t find the words to argue with them. He wasn’t the only one cursed, anyways—Sam had also paid the price for Christopher’s mistake, and had done nothing to deserve it but remain by his side when everyone else had fled. But at least Sam didn’t have to deal with the awful burden he did—and when they were doomed to live with this condition for the rest of their lives, at least Sam would be free of the pain he would have to endure. 
“She might be the last one, you know. Before the deadline. We might not get another chance.” 
Christopher’s lips tightened into a fine line. He said nothing.
“...just try, tomorrow. She might surprise you, you know.”
Christopher felt the room get a little emptier as Sam’s presence left, extinguishing the flame on their way out, and he was left with nothing but darkness and his thoughts. There’s no point. She’s not going to give me permission to eat her, especially when I can’t even MENTION the curse itself. That goddamn witch only gave me that stipulation to make a mockery of me. She just wanted to see me suffer for the rest of my life.
He had a week or two, at most, before he would get hungry enough to be forced to eat Danny. It was, admittedly, more time than he usually had—most humans, like the man from yesterday, only wandered by when he’d long since passed the point of desperation. He still didn’t think there was a chance, even if he managed to improve his relations with her in such a short timespan. Why would he go through the effort of being nice and gaining her trust when he’d just have to eat her anyways? It would only make it harder for him when he reached the end of the limit on his hunger. 
It was better that she hated him. Hatred made him feel less guilty about what he’d have to do eventually. 
It had always been harder when they thought that they could trust him, only to have that trust shattered when they were betrayed by the monster in the end. 
* * * * * * * * * * 
Next chapter ->
How will the next day go, I wonder? I guess we'll have to see in Chapter 7, Quest for Answers! Thank you all for reading!
I would have posted earlier, but there was a total eclipse today. I was a bit preoccupied!
Thank you, as always, for reading!
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morbid attraction
Ethan Landry x reader
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AU where Stu Macher has an illegitimate child. During Scream 6.
summary: Y/n is a freshman at Blackmore University. They're currently pursuing a bachelor's degree in forensic science to become an autopsy technician. To further their research, and to make money, they pick up shifts as a mortuary assistant. Y/n must come to terms with the trauma of gruesome murders of their hometown, copes with the memories of their ex girlfriend Amber Freeman, and with the fact that their father was a homicidal maniac. Running doesn't get them far from their past as it chases after them into New York City. But maybe there's light at the end of the tunnel. And maybe, just maybe, the light is Ethan Landry.
!!WARNINGS!! graphic descriptions of gore and violence, PTSD, and dealing with trauma. Major content warnings will be placed before each chapter.
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Voicemail (3)
The Franchise
Wordcount: 1.5k
Content warnings: none.
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I sat at the cafe table across from Ethan. I was quietly eating my lunch. When I looked up Ethan was just staring at me. His eyebrows were knitted together and he pursed his lips tight.
“Everything okay?” I asked him.
“I should be asking you that,” he answered, “I’m worried about you.”
I laughed, shaking my head, “I really am fine, E.”
He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, and he shouldn’t. I was so not fine. I was horrified. The thought of someone in that stupid mask coming for me made my stomach churn. I felt ill thinking about feeling another knife pierced through my skin. I looked back at Ethan, feeling scared for him now too.
“You should leave.”
“What?”
I sighed, “I don’t want you to get hurt, or worse. I think you should leave. Stop being around us. Try to get the fuck out.” I told him, almost begging.
Ethan narrowed his brows and shook his head, “I’m not going anywhere. You guys are my friends, I’m not leaving you for dead.”
I let out a breathy laugh. I almost cried looking at him. I looked down at the floor.
“Please, don’t do this, Ethan. Don’t be the hero.”
Ethan reached across the table and put his hand over mine, “Don’t do this, Y/n. You don’t need to be tough all by yourself. Let me help you.”
I pulled my hand away from his.
“We should go. Mindy wants to meet up.”
Ethan just nodded and got up from his seat.
My phone rang. It vibrated on the table, face down. I made eye contact with Ethan. He flipped the phone over for me. It was my mother.
“Shit.” I thought. I still hadn’t told her. She’s probably flipping out.
“Hi, Mom,” I said into the phone.
“Y/n? Oh, my God. Are you okay?” my mother spoke frantically, “I just heard about what’s happening, why didn’t you call?”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I was busy talking to the police all night after the attack and then-”
“Attacked?!”
“I’m okay, Mom. I have it under control. They’re really close to catching him” I felt bad lying to my mom, but it was for her own good.
I heard her sigh, “Call me tonight. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t. I love you.”
I left the cafe, leaving Ethan behind. I meet Mindy in the courtyard where everyone is sitting together. Ethan runs up next to me and we walk over to our friends. Mindy spots us and points us out to the group.
“Perfect! Let’s get started, take a seat” Mindy orders us.
Ethan takes a seat next to Tara, but I stay standing behind the bench.
Mindy starts clapping to get our attention, “Okay, nerds, listen up! As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not catching the killers last time.” Everyone gives her weird looks and she sighs, “It’s fine. Okay,” she adjusts her top, “The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel.”
Anika raises her hand, “Um, what’s a requel?”
“You’re beautiful, sweetie. Let’s hold questions to the end” Mindy tells her.
Sam cuts in, “Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro. Stab 2 took place in college.”
“I would call it the original Stab. Not Stab 1” I say with a smile.
I’m ignored by the group.
“So we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies?” Chad asks.
“That is one possibility,” Mindy replies, “Heroes now in college: Check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or bodycount:” she points at Quinn, Anika and Ethan, “Check, check, and check.”
Ethan scrunches his face, “I don’t like this.”
“But it can’t just be about Stab 2” Mindy declares, ignoring Ethan. I pat his shoulder.
“Why not?” Tara asks.
Mindy continues, “It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel because nobody just makes sequels anymore.” Nobody says anything and Mindy gets excited, “We’re in-”
“A franchise” I cut her off.
She stares at me deadpan, “Must you always be the star?”
I smirk, “Can’t help it with a face like this.” I wink and she rolls her eyes.
“There are certain rules to a continuing franchise!” she restarts her rant.
“I had a feeling,” Sam mutters.
Mindy states the rules.
“Rule one: Everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count.”
“Funsies” I intersect.
“Longer chase, shoot-outs, beheadings. You gotta top what came before to keep the people coming back!”
“Beheadings?” Chad questioned, writing in his notebook.
“Beheadings” Mindy doubled down.
I chuckle and do a slicing motion over my neck with my thumb. Ethan and Chad give me a disturbed expression.
“Rule two: Whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations.” She takes a pause, “If the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities…”
Ethan’s eyes go wide and he looks at the floor.
“You can bet the opposite will be true here. And rule three:”
She scans our faces, holding out for suspense.
“No one is safe. Legacy characters? Cannon fodder at this point. Usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia.”
“So, Kirby and Gale?” I inquired.
“Not looking too good for them” Mindy answers. “Oh, and that’s not even the worst part!”
Chad looks at Ethan, “This is the part where she tells us the worst part.”
“The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic installments designed to boost IP. Which means main characters,” her eyes travel from me to Tara to Sam, "are completely expandable now, too.”
Mindy lists a bunch of characters that died in their own franchises to continue the story.
“That means it’s not just the friend group. Any of us could go at any time, especially Sam, Y/n, and Tara.” The expression on her face is more hurt now.
Everyone is quiet for a minute. Me, Sam, and Tara look at each other.
“Wait, any of us?” Ethan asks, breaking the silence.
“Yeah” Mindy nods.
He looks concerned, “Am- am I in the friend group?”
“Yeah” Mindy and I said together.
“Am I like one of the targets?”
I groan, “Oh, my God, Ethan!”
Ethan stares off into nothing and then asks, “Am I gonna die a virgin?”
I put my hands on his shoulders, “Oh, no, honey,” I whisper in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear, “The virgins don’t die.
“That was… a weird overshare” Mindy replies, “But it brings us to our current suspects: Ethan. The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”
Ethan stammers, “Okay, wait why am I on the suspect list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate.”
“Yes,” I replied flatly.
“Roommate lotteries can be juked. You could’ve fixed it to get next to us!” Mindy clarifies.
Ethan rolls his eyes with attitude. I laugh and ruffle his hair.
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” I ask him, deepen my voice.
He waves me away from his face, “Not funny.”
Mindy moves on, Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie,” she kisses her fingers, “classic.”
“Sex positive but… thank you?” Quinn says, confused.
“Mm-hmm. And how did you come to live with Tara and our deadly duo?” Mindy interrogates her.
“Do not call us a deadly duo, that sounds like we’re dangerous” Sam tells her. She looks at me for back up. I shrug in response.
“Uh, I answered their ad online” Quinn answers.
Mindy puts her hand up, “Okay, say no more. You’ve already implicated yourself enough!”
“It was an anonymous ad, Mindy” Tara states, “And you know we vetted her. Plus her dad is a cop.”
“And that makes it more likely that she’s the killer, because having a cop dad is a great cover. Do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?!”
Quinn looks at us concerned, “Is she always like this?”
“And finally, Anika.” Anika blows a kiss and Mindy blows one back, “Never trust the love interest.”
Sam starts to stand up, “Okay! So, we have our rules and we have our suspects.”
“But wait,” Ethan interrupts her, “What about you guys?”
“I mean, I think it’s pretty safe to rule out the five of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro” Mindy states.
Chad points his pencil at her, “Agreed.”
“Totally” I add.
Quinn speaks now, “Um, not agreed. What if all the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?”
“Yeah, or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more,” Ethan says.
I look at him, disappointed in his words. I take my hand off of his shoulder and cross my arms.
He continues, “I mean, let’s be honest here, some of the theories online about Sam are-”
“Don’t you fucking dare” Tara warns.
“What the fuck, dude?” I exclaim. I get pissed and walk away. I can hear my name being called, but I just keep walking.
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scoonsalicious · 5 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, strippers,
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Tony expressed his concerns about you going on this mission.
A/N: When Tony Met Pocket!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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Boston, 2002
The bass inside the club was pounding, reverberating through the air and your skull as you made your way onto the floor. The day had already been unbearably long, and after your shift tonight, you still had a mountain of reading to do for your Introduction to Data Structures and Algorithms class. But, MIT courses didn’t come cheap, even at two classes a semester, and you needed every penny you could make from your shifts at Beantown Burlesque. It would make more sense, financially, to work a club closer to the college, but the idea of running into any of your classmates or, god forbid, your professors, made the extra time and money you spent commuting from Cambridge to inner Boston completely worth it. 
Not that you expected a lot of tips tonight. It would have been better if you’d been scheduled to work the stage before they sent you to the floor; you were always requested for more lap dances after the patrons had seen you work the pole. You’d just have to work your ass off to entice a couple of lonely men into the VIP booth. But that always came with the additional task of fighting off requests for additional “services.” You may have been desperate for cash, but you were quite done with having your body sold for money, thank you.
You made your way over to the bar, hoping to get some intel on tonight’s patrons so you could shoot your best shot. 
“How’s it goin’ tonight, Cherry Pie?” the bartender, Mac, asked, using the pseudonym you’d chosen for your stage name when you started at the club a year ago. 
“No complaints yet, Mac,” you said, gratefully accepting the glass of water he offered you– it was important to stay hydrated, after all, “but then again, the night is very young.”
Mac let out a gruff laugh as he wiped down a glass. “You’re too young to be so cynical, Cherr,” he said.
You shrugged. That was an understatement. “Any good prospects tonight?” you asked, leaning your elbows on the bartop.
Mac nodded his chin toward a group of young men sitting close to the stage. “That group over there’s racked up a pretty big tab so far. Think they’re from the MIT alumni conference.” That piqued your interest. Beantown Burlesque might not be the ideal place to network, but you’d honestly take whatever you could get.
“They seem decent enough?” you asked Mac.
“About as decent as any group of blokes that come here,” he offered. “But they’ve been pretty respectful so far; no one’s tried to put hands anywhere they shouldn’t.”
“Good enough for me,” you told him. With a parting wave, you sauntered over to the group, making sure to put some extra sway in your hips. As you approached, you surveyed the collection of men. They all seemed to be centering their focus on one man in particular– he was dark haired with a goatee and wearing a pair of tinted glasses and looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t place where you might have seen him before. You clocked his expensive loafers and custom Armani suit, and the way the others around him laughed a little too loudly at what he was saying. 
That’s the one, you thought to yourself. He had the money. If you were going to make your rent on time this month, he was the one you’d need to impress.
“You boys fancy some company tonight?” you asked once you approached the group. The man with the goatee leaned forward, a sure sign of interest, and looked at you over the lens of his glasses.
“Well, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk, “we're not ones to turn down an offer for good companionship, especially from someone as captivating as you. But let's be real, the question is whether you can keep up with us. Think you're ready for the challenge?”
Oh, this one was cocky. You could work with that. You trailed your fingertips along the tops of his shoulders as you made your way around to the table in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you picked up the double shot of whiskey sitting there and downed the entire thing in one swig without flinching.
The other men in the group whooped and hollered at your display, but the man with the goatee just studied you with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.
“You can call me Cherry Pie,” you said as you began swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music coming through the speakers. 
“I didn’t ask what they call you here,” he said, leaning back as you put your hands on his shoulder and began swaying in between his legs. “I asked for your name.”
“You haven’t spent nearly enough to earn that, honey,” you said as you gyrated. 
The man laughed at that, then, reaching for his wallet, pulled out a handful of crisp, one hundred dollar bills. He gently tucked them into the waistband of your bottoms. “How’s that?”
You looked at the bills tucked into your underwear. By your guess, there was about eight hundred dollars there. You just might make rent, after all. “It’s a start,” you shrugged, beginning your tried and true lap dance routine.
One of the other men in the group let out a loud laugh. “She’s sure got your number, Stark!”
At the name, your eyes shot to the man with the goatee’s face, and it suddenly clicked for you. “Holy shit,” you breathed. “You’re Tony Stark.”
Stark smiled. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”
“Your company’s network security sucks ass,” you told him, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.
He quirked an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me?”
Fuck. “Uh, nothing, sorry. Forget I said anything.” You put a renewed vigor back into your dance.
“Um, no.” Stark said, grasping your wrist firmly enough to encourage you to stop dancing, but gently enough to let you know he posed you no threat. “I want to hear how a stripper knows the faults of my network security.”
You blushed at that. “I, uh, may have broken in the back door and temporarily held your system hostage for ten minutes last May,” you confessed.
“That was you?” Stark exclaimed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded… impressed. “You paralyzed our entire operation!”
“Yeah… sorry about that.” Well, you could kiss any further tips goodbye, that was for sure.
“Why’d you relinquish control back to us?” he asked. “You could have held it for ransom; we would have paid whatever you asked for.”
Huh. You had never even considered doing that. “Well, um, actually, I did it as part of a final project? For my Engineering Ethics and Professionalism course at MIT?”
Stark cocked his head at you. “With Erickson?” You nodded, and Stark actually laughed. “He still a narcissistic son of a bitch?”
You chuckled and nodded. “Sexist, too. He nearly shat a brick when he had to watch a mere girl bring a Fortune 500 company to its knees.”
Stark laughed, heartily. “I’ll bet he did! What I wouldn’t have given to see his face!”
“I set up a camera to record it,” you told him. “I can make you a copy of the VHS, if you want. I needed to capture the moment for posterity.”
From there, the atmosphere and your position in the group shifted. You were no longer the entertainment. Tony (he insisted you call him that) invited you to join him as his equal, and for the next several hours, he picked your brain, testing your knowledge and asking you questions about yourself, much to the displeasure of the rest of his group. One by one, they departed, until it was just the two of you. You were having the time of your life. You figured you’d never again have the opportunity to sit back and just hang out with such an icon of the tech community, and you were going to make the most of it. Now, here you were playing a game of Never Have I Ever.
“Never have I ever sheared a sheep,” Tony said with a grin.
“Why, Mr. Stark,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips (you failed to mention that, technically, you weren’t legally old enough to drink), “you haven’t truly lived until you’ve shorn the raw wool from an unwilling ewe.”
“You’re shitting me,” Tony said, laughing.
You took the glass from your lips without drinking. “You got me,” you told him. I grew up in Dayton. Not a whole lotta opportunities for sheep shearing there.”
A mischievous glint came into Tony’s eyes. “Your shift’s got to be almost over,” he said. “What do you say, Cherry Pie? Wanna go shear a sheep?”
“(Y/N),” you told him. “My name’s (Y/N), and I would fucking love to.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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Uncomfortable - Tim Drake (1/3)
Summary: [...] "Are you saying you are afraid of me?" "I wouldn't say afraid" Dick said, trying to sound casual "It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel..." "Uncomfortable?" Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick "The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick?" [...] Extremely hurt Tim Drake living out of coffee and spite.
Wordcount: 1.5K
Content Warnings: Angst; suicide idealization, mentions of self harm, etc.
Notes: Finally dropping this here, posted the first chapter on Ao3 a couple days ago. Hope you guys enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated ❣️
Part 2 - Part 3
CHAPTER 1 - COFFEE.
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Red Robin stared at the screen with sleepy eyes. He'd already found the solution to this case half an hour ago, but pretending he didn't was the only way to avoid being requested at the post patrol circus going on upstairs.
It was always like this, at least it has been since he came back to live in the mansion. There was the patrol, and after, Alfred would prepare a table with many treats for the family to eat while he patched them up. 
What a perfect, happy family, bonding after some quality time kicking criminal ass.
A herd of hypocrites.
Two of them tried to kill him and most of them didn't seem to give a single fuck about the matter.
But what was he expecting, anyway? He was the unwanted child. He crawled his way into this family when Bruce was too vulnerable to deny it, grieving, he was Jason's replacement, after all. The only reason why he was still allowed among the bats of Gotham was his hypercompetence. Or perhaps it was because of how dangerous it would be for them all if he decided to play for the  other team.
If you didn't fear the man who at the age of nine deduced the identity of the world's best detective, you were a fool. Yeah Bruce was a bad, emotionally distant parental figure, but he was no fool, and Tim had to give him the credit for that.
— Drake — Robin said.
Tim felt the ferrous taste of blood filling his mouth. The demon. He pretended not to hear. He wanted nothing with this damn child. This Demoniac being that had tried to kill him multiple times in the last few years. The kid who had never done anything to deserve being Robin, the title for whom Tim has worked so hard for years.
— Alfred asked if you plan on joining the rest of the family anytime soon — The little boy said with his entitled filled tone. Fucking psychopath.
— I am working — Red Robin simply said.
— You're not fooling anyone, Drake — He said, stepping closer to his brother — Staring at a screen isn't working.
— You say like you know anything about working — Tim answered, after a deep sigh — Please, leave me alone. Tell them whatever you want, say that I threatened you with a knife, that I pushed you towards a wall, whatever you want. Just leave me alone.
— You say like they would believe it.
Damian said nothing else, simply left without any other response from Tim, that sighed deeply and continued staring at the screen.
His eyes felt heavier.
“Funny” thing about feeling down: usually, the brain cannot understand the emotional distress and the body intentionally does things to justificate that distress to its brain. 
Some people cut themselves – Tim couldn't do that, Alfred would ask too many questions –; others refused to eat – Tim tried it, but it didn't really fit his lifestyle –; some people drank 'til they tripped and fall — He could do this, but the posterior headaches weren't worth it, even though this is Gotham City and he could easily find a place that sells alcohol to minors – ; some people over exercised until they couldn't stand anymore, hoping the soreness of their muscles would be enough to feel like their pain is valid; some people took dangerous car drives or tried to equilibrate themselves on the edges of rooftops – These were Dick's things –; some people numb themselves with smoke on his lungs – Tim could do this, but refused. This was Jason's thing, and he didn't want to have anything in common with Jason.
So, to try to justify his pain to himself, Tim never slept. Well, of course he slept, he had to, but he always avoided it. This was his way of self punishment. He could almost hear his brain.
“What do you mean your emotions are shit? No, this is not a good reason for all this distress. Here, have a unusual way of self harm and then I'll consider if it is enough or not”
Tim hasn't really slept in the last four days, not more than an hour or two. There were occasional long blinks, but whenever Alfred decided to try to drug his coffee – His best ally in his attempts of making the pain make sense – and sent him to his bedroom, he would only stare at the ceiling. Tim already had it memorised. Then he would close his eyes when he could hear footsteps approaching his door and pretend to be asleep until whoever Alfred sent to spy on him finally left.
A solitary life, it was, but he didn't mind. Since his childhood, loneliness was mostly everything Timothy Jackson Drake knew. His most loyal companion.
— Hey, buddy — Nightwing's voice echoed in Tim's ears.
Fucking traitor. 
The man with the kind smile that was responsible for half of the mud in which Tim found himself stuck. The man who took away from Tim the only thing that kept him standing, the only thing that mattered for him in a long time. This was the Dick Grayson, the “good fella”, Bruce's golden child, “The clearer version of what Batman was meant to be”. Dick Fucking Grayson.
Again, Tim pretended not to hear.
— Dames said you were still working. Don't you think it is time for a break?
— I'm not tired — Tim said, though Dick wasn't dumb enough to believe it. Anyone that looked into Tim's face would see how fucking tired he was. Deep and dark eyebags, hollowed expressions in his eyes, cheeks slightly inwards like the corpse of a very thin woman. Dick sighed.
— I know, but B misses you. We all miss you. And we are worried.
— There's nothing to worry about — Tim said, simply.
Dick sighed again and pulled his chair closer to Tim.
Fuck . He had to lecture Tim right now, of course. He simply couldn't deny the urge of being the reasonable older brother, the inspirational hero, the right one, the mediator of the family.
— Let's be honest, Little Wing...
— Don't call me little wing.
— Tim, we are worried about you — Dick said, Tim never looked at his face, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from rolling his eyes if he did. He couldn't stand Dick Grayson's hypocrite smile and kind eyes anymore. He could barely stand his voice — What you said today during patrol... That joke....
— Joke? — Tim asked, furrowing his brows. He didn't remember telling a joke.
— You know, buddy. That one about the metro-narrows bridge.
Oh . That.
It wasn't a joke. More likely a loud thought.
Tim remembered that. He said that if Damian called him “unworthy” again, he would simply throw himself from the top of metro-narrows bridge, towards the cars. 
Tim has been "telling these jokes" for weeks now.
— Even Dames stepped back. Everyone did, actually. The family...
— Are you saying you are afraid of me?
— I wouldn't say afraid — Dick said, trying to sound casual — It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel...
— Uncomfortable? — Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick. He could see the surprise in his brother's eyes. Or was it something else? Tim's guts were absolutely soaked in rage now — The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick? You can't bear the guilt? Or you're just worried your Robin will have to deal with the responsibility of the death of his predecessor?
Dick said nothing. Just sighed. Dick Grayson knew the battles he couldn't win. Dick put a mug in front of Tim. His favourite mug, filled with the dark liquid in which Tim loved to drown himself.
— We can talk later — The elder said — Jason made you coffee. He said you wouldn't want to have a break. Guess he knows you better than the rest of us.
— The perks of trying to slit someone's throat — Tim said completely out of spite, just to see Dick flinch in discomfort.
— Just drink before it gets cold, okay?
Dick left and Tim decided to not make another comment.
Red Robin stared at the mug in front of him, wondering if Jason poured poison into the liquid or Alfred poured the sleep drugs. Either way, there was no chance Tim would let it get into his system. He turned off the screen and grabbed the mug, walking towards his bedroom. In his room already, Tim locked the door and poured the coffee into his bathroom sink.
After taking a shower – He wasn't that bad that he would deny himself a simple shower, although he doubted it would take long to reach this point – He verified all the hidden spots in his room. Behind the curtains, his closet, under his bed. After making sure Jason wasn't there hidden with a knife, he slid between his sheets, soft and smooth.
Red Robin stared at the ceiling of the room where some years ago, lived Timothy Jackson Drake.
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