#i drew this from memory please don’t yell at me

[thecrystalkid]

artist’s depiction of my genuine response to this scene

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ♡

track two of the short n’sweet series. pairing: criminal!jj x reader — based loosely off the song please please please by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

you knew what you were getting into, getting involved with an ex-convict and all.

it’s not that jj didn’t treat you well. no, he spoiled you in all the ways he could no matter how unconventional that might be. you’re talking bouquets of flowers he’d so clearly stolen from the gas station, pulling guns on guys that hit on you and threatening to ‘blast their freaking eyes out’ when they’d merely asked for your number, producing a wad of random cash when the nail lady asked if he wanted to pay contactless for your new set of nails. you figured he was trying his best, romantic in a way he knew how to be.

what you absolutely couldn’t take however, way the random disappearing acts. it was jj maybank you’re talking about here — you knew he’d be reckless and fly off the handle sometimes and you were pretty well equipped for that, infact that dangerous attitude was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place oddly enough. but every sunday, like clockwork the blonde would come up with some half ass excuse and disappear through the entire night, only to arrive home in the morning with pockets stuffed with cash. it made you anxious. whatever he was doing, whatever he was lying to you about — you wanted it to stop. don’t make me the girl who’s man goes back to jail and i still stick around, because i will— but it’s embarrassing— you beg to no one in your diary. you try and muster up the courage to ask jj about his doings, but each time you even toe in that direction he gets defensive, shaking his head with a little irritated scowl.

“look, i look after you right? tha’s all that matters mama. papa j’s got it figured out, you don’t need t’worry all the damn time.”

you wanted to trust that things would be fine, you really did.

he’d had a long week, and yet still when sunday rolled around you uneasily watched your boyfriend zipping up his hoodie ready to depart to wherever the hell it was he’d go to make all that money. you had a bad feeling, anxiety thrumming in the base of your stomach that something was going to happen tonight. you couldn’t let him go.

“jayj i jus— i just want you to— c’mon jay i have a fun idea, let’s just… let’s just stay inside!” you whine, verging on tears as you paw at him. his quick patience be damned, you were an emotional wreck and you needed him to listen.

“i gotta. you don’t get it.” he huffs, but even he doesn’t sound convinced, eyes lingering on you as you subtly pull your tank top down to let more of your titties spill out. that whiny tone in your voice usually meant one thing, and that one thing the two of you had been too busy to do that week.

“if y’need money i can give you some. whatever you need.” you wanted to yell at yourself to stand up, but trying everything was definitely on the cards. he scoffs, the provider in him repulsed by the idea and he gently grips your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger for a moment.

“what kinda fuck ass boyfriend would i be then, huh?” he brushes it off, but your pout remains.

“i need you. you can’t go. i need you.” it comes out all as one breath, and now— now you have his attention.

“that right sweetie?” he drawls, tongue in his cheek as he stops his movement towards the door to face you down, eyebrow twitching up in anticipation. keeping your desperate eyes on his, you stride back infront of him and all but fall to your knees, shaky hands going for his belt.

“please, please-please— as long as you need it. want it all night” you plead, and now he’s smiling — all big and malicious like a wolf as he thinks about using your throat, all thoughts of criminal activities becoming a memory.

he scrubs a hand down his face in deliberation before getting to work on his belt.

“ah alright.” he shrugs with a mischievous little chuckle. “for you, pretty thing? anything.”

the money could wait.

[holylulusworld]

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (2)

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: shy reader, fluff, getting to know each other, implied innocent reader

A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

“She was small, but strong,” while you describe your attackers to Lestrade, Sherlock won’t leave your side. He stands behind you, his hands on the backrest of the chair you’re sitting on.

“Can you describe her features? Her hair and clothes maybe,” Inspector Lestrade asks as he looks at your husband for confirmation to interrogate you.

“I got something better.” You shove your sketchbook toward the Inspector. He thumbs through the sketches you drew. “You’re quite talented, Mrs. Holmes.”

Your cheeks heat up when Lestrade looks at a drawing of your husband.

“You can draw?” Sherlock looks at the drawing, wondering what else he doesn’t know about you.

“It’s nothing…I…only do it when I’m alone and got nothing else to do. Mrs. Demeter won’t let me anywhere near the kitchen, or the garden. So, I draw from my memory.”

“Impressive, Mrs. Holmes,” Lestrade exclaims as he looks at the drawing of the woman running into you. “You got her features, even her eyes.”

“My thank you, Inspector,” you try not to squeal in joy when he looks at the drawing of your attacker in awe. “This is too kind of you.”

“You’re very talented,” Sherlock places his hand on your shoulder, making your heart flutter at the compliment. Hearing it from Lestrade was nice, but your husband’s praise means so much more to you. “We should get you more drawing utensils.”

“Sir, that’s kind of you but,” you shy away from your husband, and drop your gaze as the Inspector looks at you, “I don’t need more.”

Sherlock clears his throat, disappointment barely hidden on his features. You seem to pull away anytime he tries to do something nice for you.

“We will discuss this later. If I want to spoil my wife, I’ll do it.”

Lestrade drops his eyes to the drawing of your attacker again. “Mrs. Holmes, can I take the drawings of them with me?”

“Oh, of course, Inspector. You can keep them if it helps you find them,” you carefully remove the pages from the sketchbook.

“Have a look around, Precious. I want you to choose all the utensils you’ll need for drawing.” You know he means well, but you don’t want to be in public after you got attacked and feel uneasy as everyone seems to watch Sherlock walk you around.

“Sir…can we go back home? I don’t need anything,” you murmur, not daring to speak any louder.

“Are you unwell,” Sherlock asks and dips his head to look at you. “We can get the utensils later. I want you to have everything you wish for.”

You don’t dare tell him that all you want is his attention and for Sherlock not to leave you alone at the large house. “I’d love to go home, Sir.”

“Precious, please stop calling me Sir,” he whispers in your ear. “You’re my wife now, call me Sherlock. I want us to get to know each other better. In any way.”

Heat floods your face. Your cheeks feel hot, and you make an odd noise. “In any way,” you whisper and touch your hot cheek. "I-I..." You don't know what to say, so you nod and let him guide you toward the carriage waiting for you.

“Sir, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Demeter follows your husband around the house. He insisted on sharing his bedroom with you since you got robbed, and she’s not having it. “This is inappropriate! She should sleep in her room! Your wife needs to know her place!”

He raises his voice. “I let you get away with your behavior far too long. Mrs. Holmes and I are married. She’s my wife. You’ll pay her the needed respect, or you are dismissed.”

“You want to let me go?” She asks. “I took care of you for almost ten years. I helped you when you came home drunk or showed all the women you brought home the way out. She’s no different.”

“I think you forgot your place! NEVER,” he yells now and towers over Mrs. Demeter, “compare my sweet and innocent wife with the wenches I brought home to satisfy my needs. I won’t have it!”

You are fast asleep, unaware of the things he throws at the head housekeeper. He storms off, huffing as she follows him. Mrs. Demeter repeatedly apologizes and begs him not to release her from her duty.

“Get out of my sight! I’ll consider accepting your apology in the morning.” Sherlock storms upstairs, panting heavily. He stops in front of his bedroom, taking deep breaths to not scare you.

Sherlock closes his eyes and imagines your face as he tries to control the anger he feels. No, not just anger. There is a beast inside of him telling him to finally claim his bride, but he cannot treat you like all the women he had before you.

"I need to do this right..."

You stir in your sleep, but he shushes you. “Sleep. I need you well rested when we meet my brother and sister. It’s going to be an exhausting day.”

“Sherlock?” You murmur.

“Precious and so sweet,” Sherlock whispers as he moves closer to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Tempting too.” He nuzzles his face in your neck. “I’m going to taste your sweetness soon, my love.”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[starkeyboy]

no you can’t catch me now

luke castellan x zeus!reader

imagine you are thalia because this song SCREAMS her

i immediately thought her and my fingers couldn’t stop writing :)

“There's blood on the side of the mountain

There's writing all over the wall

Shadows of us are still dancin'

In every room and every hall”

i laid on the ground as blood soaked the leaves. the screaming of the people i love most, going off to the distance. luke’s face appearing every time i closed my eyes. oh luke. the love of my life. the first. and the last.

i love you luke castellan.

°°°

i ran through the trees, luke and annabeth in front, grover in tow behind me.

“keep running! don’t look back,” grover screamed behind me. i knew deep down that if grover didn’t make it back, his dreams were gone. but he swore to protect us. my running slowed as luke and annabeth didn’t take one look back, grover getting ahead, he noticed i wasn’t in front. grover stopped and looked at me as i stopped.

“go grover,” i said as rain soaked us. grover shook his head and he went to grab my arm. i took a step back as the two up on the hill stopped and screaming my name. i looked at them as i smiled. oh how i loved them.

“no y/n, you’re gonna make it, if we keep running, come on!” he screamed as i took every step back when he fell forward. i heard the monster behind me get closer.

“they don’t want you or them, grover, they want me. that’s all they want,” i yelled over the thunder. i nodded and he shook his head.

“please y/n, run with us to safety” he pleaded. i looked up once as i saw luke running down, to get me, to drag me uphill.

“grover, tell luke i love him. please,” i said as i smiled softly thinking of him. i turned around as everyone’s yell at me grew quiet. lukes running grew faster as i drew my dagger, a gift from dad. the monster close.

“i love you so much” was the last thing i said because before i knew it, i was looking at the monster as it snarled at me.

°°°

lukes pov

i let out an agonizing scream as y/n lied on the grown as the monster ran. i dropped to my knees as tears spilled from my eyes. i felt arms grab onto me as lighting strikes the grown where she laid. roots growing. a tree forming, a pine tree. her favorite tree.

“you wanna know why i love these kind of trees in the woods?” she said as i smiled at her, awed by her fascination of the world. i raised my eyebrows in question. “pine trees are majestic luke. they survive the cold, the heat, the storms. survival at its finest. and they provide beautiful pine cones, which smell amazing,” she smiled at me brightly. when she looked at me, it was like the world paused. it was just me and her.

“i hope one day when i die, i come back as a pine tree, giving me a full life through everything, protecting others as they pass, a shelter for those who need it most.”

the memory of just a day ago repeating in my head for days on end.

everywhere i looked, she was there. in the cabin, the mess hall, the arena. the woods.

“Bet you thought I'd never do it

Thought it'd go over my head

I bet you figured I'd pass with the winter

Be somethin' easy to forget

Oh, you think I'm gone 'cause I left”

the more i trained and the more i picked up fights, you would think i would move on easily. but there was always this one light that brought me back to y/n. always back to the pine tree.

the day we got to camp was the worst day of my life. everyone said camp was a safe place for half-bloods. why did y/n die? why didn’t zeus save her, huh?

camp was no longer called safe when she left us. when she sacrificed her life for us.

“oh, hey,” i heard behind me. i furrowed my eyebrows as i turned to find nobody. “i’m right here, luke, right in front of you.” i looked in front of me and saw the tree.

“y/n?” i whispered in disbelief.

“yeah, honey, it’s me,” she said softly as i felt a caress on my cheek. “you can’t see me but i’m here, i’m not leaving.” i felt a tear fall from my eye as i thought of her.

“i miss you so much,” i let out a sob. i leaned my head on the trunk of the tree. “so much”

“oh luke” she whispered. “i never left you, im here forever for you and with you”

“But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze

My footsteps on the ground

You'll see my face in every place

But you can't catch me now

Through wading grass, the months will pass

You'll feel it all around

I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere

But you can't catch me now

No, you can't catch me now”

i grunted as the monster got my cheek, feeling the blood drip off my cheek. i drew my sword and swung at it, but it kept growing stronger.

“fuck you, dad, fuck you,” i growled as i felt my fate. the monster above me now as he dripped of slobber. his mouth opened, emitting fire. i closed my eyes, ready for the impact, but nothing happened. i felt a force and lighting strike happening in front of my eyes. it let me get up and run after hearing her whisper to me.

“run, luke, go!”

°°°

i sat in front of y/n as i planted a new flower for her. i can feel annabeths, grover’s and percy’s eyes on me.

today was the 5th year of her passing and every year, i grow a new flower, whether it be strawberries on accident or not.

“what’s he doing?” i heard percy said.

“planting y/n a new flower. she sacrificed her life 5 years ago today and 5 years ago today we i got the privilege to feel y/ns warmth as her tree gives the camp life. lukes way to thank her is gifting her natures beauty,” annabeth explained.

i sighed as i touched the trunk gently.

“i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you, i promise. im so sorry i couldn’t promise that 5 years ago today,” i whispered as a tear of mine dropped to the ground. i felt arms wrap around me, her familiar scent filling my nose.

“i promised that nobody would hurt you when i died, and i will always fulfill that. because no body can stop me. no body can catch me now,” she said as she touched my scar. the feeling of her touch felt comforting.

“There's blood on the side of the mountain

It's turning a new shade of red

Yeah, sometimes the fire you founded

Don't burn the way you'd expect

Yeah, you thought that this was the end”

y/ns pov

i smiled as i laid on the ground, my blood soaking the hill. the snarl of the monster disappeared. i heard luke behind me scream as i felt arms wrap around me.

“oh darling,” the voice said. “oh darling,” he kept whispering. i closed my eyes as luke filled my head. the arms around me tightening, the wind calming, the rain stopping, the smell of pine filling my nose.

“this isn’t your ending, darling” he said and i was gone.

[cleoluvrr]

Smarty II (Rafe Cameron x OC)

SYNOPSIS: smart girl isn’t as smart as rafe cameron.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, toxic relationship, domestic violence, verbal abuse, blackmail, jealousy, general violence, manipulative behavior, explicit language, substance abuse & addiction, use of guns, mentions of past crimes, obsession, controlling behavior, pouge!oc

masterlist

I remember the first time Rafe Cameron hit me.

It was a couple days after my eighteenth birthday, the two of us alone at Tannyhill. I hadn’t spoken to him in those days out of irritation, the memory of my birthday ending in disaster haunting me every time I closed my eyes.

Rafe threw me a big party at one of his father’s empty properties, the unused house filled with teens and young adults, drinking and singing along to music of my choosing. There was a table stacked with gifts from both friends and strangers alike, the phrase “happy birthday” was imprinted into my mind from the countless times I heard it that night.

I wore a pretty, pink dress–one that Rafe bought me specifically for that day. He told me I looked like a princess, and that was all the convincing I needed to put it on.

Rafe was supposed to drive me home that night after the party died down. He was supposed to kiss me sweetly on my doorstep before I went inside and tell me how beautiful I am.

Instead, he drove us deep into the Cut, claiming that he needed to run a quick errand before he dropped me off. I already knew where we were going–he had taken me plenty of times before–and it annoyed me greatly.

He was already high enough, his blown out pupils and constant sniffing the only evidence I needed to know. The fact that his priority was going to his drug dealer’s house made me upset, and I let him know that.

Rafe was irrational when he was high, but I didn’t think he would kick me out of his car and leave me stranded at the house of the guy that supplied his blow. 

It was dark out, the moon high in the sky as the night stretched on. All of my friends were drunk off their ass, my parents were asleep, and there were no car services running in that area at two in the morning. My boyfriend was long gone and despite the offer, I refused to get in a car with the man that sold drugs to teenagers for a living.

It was a relief when Kelce pulled up to me on the side of the road that night. I don’t remember how long I had been walking, but I do remember how grateful I was.

I also remember how much I wished I just kept walking home instead.

“Go away, Rafe! You’re scaring me!” I yelled from behind the door. The wood vibrated against my back as the man on the other side beat against it with his fist, my heart jumping every time it connected with the surface I pressed myself against.

“Open this fucking door!” Rafe’s voice was loud and angry even through the thick wood of the old house. 

My heart nearly jumped out of my body when he shook the doorknob with a terrifying strength, the entire frame shaking violently as he pulled against it with what I’m sure is his entire body weight. My hand flew to my mouth to keep the fearful yelp from escaping my lips after I felt the force of his foot kicking against the door.

I felt like I was in a horror movie–like I was Wendy and Rafe was Jack. I could feel the eyes of the audience watching in horror as I hid in a room with my boyfriend on the other side out for my blood. 

The sound of the door frame splintering drew a scream out of me, one that I couldn’t hide as I flung myself off the door. There was nowhere I could hide from the blonde on the other side, the room bare of any hiding spots other than the long table in the center. I ran to the part of the room farthest from the door, eager to put as much distance between the pulsating door and I as possible.

I watched in horror as the door flew open a few yards away, the wood by the handle splintering as Rafe’s foot made contact. 

“Rafe, please!” I squeaked out when he caught my eye. The fuming nineteen-year-old ignores my pleads, long legs making record time as the long strides carry him to me. “Please! Just–just calm down!”

I moved around the table, nearly stumbling over my own feet as I held my arms out in defense against Rafe who was fast approaching. 

“You’re dead.” Rafe grits through his teeth. His finger raises to point at me as an aid to emphasize his point, the other hand shoving the chairs I moved to block his path back under the table carelessly. “You hear me? You’re fucking dead!”

Spotting the open door just a few feet away, I take a final glance at the man before making an attempt to bolt for it.

I knew I wasn’t fast enough–the move was quite predictable and I‘m sure Rafe saw it coming from a mile away. I barely took four steps towards the frame before I felt his fingers grip the back of my shirt, the movement jerking me backwards and right into Rafe’s arms.

I felt my body hit the wall shortly after, the hard surface colliding with my body leaving a sharp pain in my side and arm as I’m thrown against it disgracefully. I don’t get the chance to recover before I feel a familiar hand make contact with the side of my head and press it into the cool surface of the wall. My body shivers from the sudden change in temperature, cheek flat against the patterned surface as Rafe holds me there in a bone crushing grip. 

“You think I’m stupid? You thought I wouldn’t find out?” The blonde says into my ear roughly, the feeling of his breath brushing against my ear giving me goosebumps. I shook my head the best I could under his hold, wincing as he pressed my head harder into the wall.

“Rafe, it’s not like that–”

I feel Rafe’s fingers move from the side of my face and take home in the roots of my hair, nails scratching against my scalp as he grips the strands by the base. He yanks me away from the wall by the hair balled up in his fist and I yelp in pain. 

“Huh?” Rafe forces me to meet his gaze, eyes glaring down at me angrily. “It’s not like what? You weren’t texting my friend behind my back? I’m imagining shit now?”

“Yes!” The worse slipped out faster than I could stop it, regret immediately filling my body as I held my own hand over Rafe’s that has found home in my now tender scalp. “No, Rafe. You’re just–it’s just a misunderstanding!”

Rafe digs into the depths of his pocket, scoffing at me in disgust as he does so. He pulls out a phone; my phone. The pink case catches my attention immediately as he unlocks the device with my own scared face. 

He already knew the passcode, the action was just one to show his power over me in the moment.

I watch him silently school through my text messages as I tremble in his arms, struggling to hold myself up in the strange and uncomfortable position. The screen reflects off his blue eyes as he reads through my conversations, the concept of privacy no longer.

“‘Thanks for the help, Kelce. I really needed that.’” He reads off the text I sent to his friend late last night. His eyes flicker up to mine, the depths of them filled with jealous rage as he forces me to stare into them. “What the fuck were doing texting my friend at two in the morning?”

“I was texting him because you left me stranded in the Cut with your drug dealer at two in the fucking morning, Rafe!” I snapped at him, the fear quickly turning into anger and frustration as he accused me of doing anything else. “Not that you would remember; you were too coked out to care about anything but yourself.”

I should have left him right then, but I didn’t. And It was no surprise that it would continue to happen.

Instead, I sit behind these grand, white walls of Tannyhill, eyes glued to the picture frame on Rafe’s desk.

He was working silently in front of me, fingers making quick work of the keyboard as his own eyes flicker back and forth from the computer screen to the papers spread across the dark wood of the desk that was once his father’s.

I looked so happy in that pretty, pink dress. A smile that stretched a mile wide grazed my lips as Rafe embraced me from behind, a fond look in his eye as he looked down at my glowing face.

The memories of those days would flood my mind the moment I set eyes on this house, which is why I couldn’t stand being here. I couldn’t live a life in a house where I can remember every room I’ve been beaten and berated in during one of my boyfriend’s coke induced rages.

Sighing heavily, I tear my eyes away from the picture and lean back onto the firm couch I was seated in. I try to hide the wince caused by the sharpness in my side as I move, ribs flaring up in pain once again. 

Rafe does not take being disrespected lightly–not by anyone. I already knew that before I said what I did a few nights before, and I also knew the consequences. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I woke up just a few hours later with him standing over me, the darkness of his looming figure making my heart stop for just a few seconds before I realized it was him. I should have known he would show crossed on God-knows-what, the mixture of substances increasing his hostility tenfold.

I didn’t fight against it when he ripped me out of the bed with a fistful of my hair, or when he threw me against my dresser, the sharp corner digging to my side as I was shoved into the piece of furniture. Rafe is bigger than I am, his strength outmatches mine dangerously; there was simply no point. I didn't cry out for help when his calloused palm struck my face the first time, nor the second time. 

When he told me to apologize, I did. When he went through my wardrobe and ripped apart all the outfits I’d been scolded by him for wearing to work, I said nothing. I stood silently as I watched the ruined fabrics pile up on the ground in front of me. When he told me that I was lucky to have him because no one else would want a girl that dresses like a prostitute, I didn’t argue.

I didn’t resist it because it would only make things worse for me. It always did.

He kissed me goodnight and I kissed him back like nothing happened, the ache in my side burning hot as he traced the stinging skin of my cheek where his heavy hand met my face just a few moments before.

I used to fight back in the beginning. I would kick, bite, scratch, scream. I would threaten to leave if he did it again, to tell the police and give them all the evidence.

“Who would believe you?” Is what he told me, and he was right.

Who would believe some random, middle-class girl over Ward Cameron’s son? On what planet would Ward ever allow his family’s name to be tainted by his son being arrested for hitting his girlfriend?

The defeat I felt is something I still cannot describe.

“Laia?” I snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of Rafe’s voice. My eyes land on him behind the desk, a hum leaving my lips in response. “You okay?”

I nodded my head, afraid that I’d whimper in pain from the rib that is surely bruised by his own doing. I pulled my hand away from the sore spot slowly, teeth clenching together to keep my face expressionless. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by my boyfriend, blue eyes flickering down to the hand that I’ve removed from my side and back up to my face. He says nothing for a moment, just allowing our eyes to hold each other tensely.

“Come here.”

I stare at him for a long few five seconds before moving, ribs screaming as I stand up from my seat on the leather couch. I walk over to the blonde behind the desk, awkwardly standing in front of him as I await further instruction.

Rafe reaches forward to place his hands on my waist, the warm prints of his fingers pressed firmly into the skin under my top as he pulls me closer. He angles me sideways slightly, hand moving to lift up my shirt. He just stares silently for a minute as he analyzes the bruise, eyes glued to the large spot spread over my skin.

I knew exactly what it looked like; I’d been staring at it for three days and watching it change color as the time passed. It was big and splotchy, a mixture of yellow, red, and purple in a somewhat rectangular shape displayed across my left rib cage. It was nasty, and I’m sure Rafe thought the same.

“Damn, baby…” He finally breaks the silence. “I did this?” He looks up at me, eyes meeting mine as he waits for an answer.

I nodded my head again.

Rafe drags his gaze back down to the bruise, a look of both awe and pity covering his face. I flinch when his fingers move to trance over the perimeter of the bruise, sucking in a sharp breath of both pain and surprise from the lack of warning. The hand that grips my waist tightens, keeping me still as he studies it closer. 

Leaning into me, he brings his face to my side. I feel his soft lips press into the discolored skin, a gentle kiss that leaves me breathless for a moment. The gesture was something he did often; sweet kisses to cover the bruises he leaves behind.

It was poetic almost–like a band-aid over a bullet hole, or a drop of water in a wilted garden.

“You know I love you,” Rafe pulls away slightly, eyes peeking up to stare into mine. “Right?”

“I love you, too.” The words leave my mouth quietly, the phrase feeling at home on my lips. 

The blonde leans back into the chair and pulls me with him, his once open lap now occupied by me as I’m given no choice but to sit. The hand that was used to trace over the ache in my side rises to my face, the same palm he used to strike me now cupping my cheek warmly, thumb stroking over the skin softly. 

I’m tempted to lean into the familiar feeling, but I don’t, instead sitting stiffly on his thighs as he caresses my face. 

“You know I don’t like doing that–I hate it.” I nod my head at him wordlessly, the sight of his striking, blue eyes leaving me unable to speak. “But you just don’t give me a choice. I just…You make me so angry sometimes, Laia. And–and you do it on purpose.” He looks at me with an expression of both exasperation and desperation, head shaking from side to side as he speaks.

He wasn’t wrong–sometimes I did make him mad on purpose. Never over anything serious, only things like calling his favorite show boring or saying his outfit didn’t match. Little things that we would laugh about later.

This wasn’t one of those times.

I nodded anyway, choosing to maintain my silence in place of verbal response. It was just easier to get through it that way.

“All of our actions have consequences, baby.” He continues on, the familiar phrase vibrating against my eardrums. “You knew better than to say that, but you did it anyway. Do you not respect me?”

“I do…” I say quietly, a defensive tone barely present in my voice. 

“So why would you think it’s okay to say something like that to me?”

I didn’t know how to respond to him truthfully without him getting angry again. I said it because that’s what I thought at that moment.

“I said I was sorry…” My eyes dropped from his gaze, instead choosing to hold contact with my own hands as they twitched nervously in my lap. “I just…you were calling me names, and–and it made me really mad because I didn’t do anything wrong!” My voice barely raised an octave, but it was still enough to convey my frustration. 

“You’re right.” Rafe nods his head at me in response. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You looked very beautiful in that outfit and it’s not your fault that other guys can’t keep their eyes off you. I was being mean and I’m sorry for that.”

Rafe traces over my lips with his thumb, the warm digit gently smoothing out the pout that had appeared on my face. 

“But it’s not safe for you to be dressed like that around a bunch of gross, strange men you don’t know all day. You haven’t heard the things they say about you, but I have. It makes me sick.” He says with concern.

I look at him confused, unsure of what he’s talking about. All my customers have been nothing but respectful towards me, the implication of them being anything else but that leaving me puzzled.

“It scares me to think about what could happen if I weren’t there to watch over you…I just want you to be safe. I know you think I’m hovering; I know you think it’s annoying and ‘controlling.’” Rafe’s worry seems to be genuine, the crease between his brows deepening as he looks up at me in his lap. “I know that. But how else am I supposed to make sure nothing bad happens to you?”

“I can take care of myself, Rafe.”

“I know you think that, Laia. I’m not saying that you can’t, either.” My boyfriend shakes his head at me as he speaks. “You’re a smart girl, but you don’t know everything. I’m a guy–I know how guys think. Sometimes I know better than you do, and sometimes you should listen to me. Okay?”

I say nothing for a moment. There was a slight tension in the air and I could feel his eyes on me.

My eyes remained fixated on the fingers in my lap, nails picking at each other mindlessly. My gaze is pulled away from the digits by Rafe’s knuckles underneath my chin, my eyes forced to keep contact with his instead as he awaits my response.

“Okay?” He repeats the word a second time, not accepting my silence as an answer.

“Okay.” I say quietly.

Rafe nods his head at me, the fingers keeping my chin in place moving to tuck a loose braid behind my ear.

“And I’m sorry I hurt you this bad; I should have been more careful.” He says, referring to the big, fat bruise hidden beneath my shirt. “I was high and I–I shouldn’t have come over when I was like that. I went too far.”

Rafe says that every time this happens. He always has an excuse, whether he’s sober or higher than the moon that lights our sky at night. But I always accept it.

Maybe I was stupid for that, but it would be a lie to say that I cared. 

He was remorseful every time, I could see that it hurt him to see the pain he caused me after he finally calmed down. He would always apologize, and I would accept it because I knew he was really sorry–even if I knew it would probably happen again. 

I loved him too much to leave. I’d been with him for almost four years; he was my first kiss, my first date, my first–and only–boyfriend. I promised myself to him, the diamond ring with our names engraved inside had been sitting heavy on my finger for two of those years. I helped him through his darkest moments; through his cocaine addiction, when he got kicked out of his house, when his dad died. I was there for all of it.

This relationship meant too much to me to let it go–Rafe meant too much to me. It’s why I allowed so many things that people say I shouldn’t, why I allowed myself to be treated in a way that would make me pity someone else if they were going through the same thing.

I was strong enough to handle it all, even if it left me feeling drained at the end of the day. To me, it was a small price to pay.

“I don’t like being so rough with you, but I feel like it’s the only way you’ll listen to me.” Rafe sounds disappointed, though I’m not sure if it’s in himself or in me. “I don’t like it, but if that’s what I have to do, then that’s what’s going to happen. Clearly, it’s working.”

Rafe’s eye’s trail down to my outfit, silently approving the choice. The big, pink sweater I found at the back of my closet was far from seasonal, but I needed something to cover the bruises that littered my arms and body. The plaid skirt I paired with it was something Rafe bought for me a few weeks ago; I chose it because I wouldn’t have to worry about him not liking it.

“My sweet girl…” He says softly. His strong arms wrap around me firmly, careful to avoid the spot that I’d been nursing all day. “You’re just so perfect for me.”

I allowed myself to melt into him, the stiffness of my body gone as I accepted his warm embrace.

[graveyard-stray]

Since you returned || Thomas Shelby x F!Reader

Includes: Angst, PTSD, mentions of war, violence, and death, mentions of NSFW topics (briefly), swearing and yelling, rejection if you squint, fluff at the end <3

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I literally JUST started Peaky Blinders and had to write this so if any details are wrong please forgive me!!

NOT PROOFREAD

You and Thomas Shelby had some- history to say the least.

You were practically apart of the Shelby family. Ever since you could walk you were best friends with Arthur, John, Finn, Ada, and of course- Tommy. You were the same age as Ada and grew up next door to the family so you spent lots of time with her, and in turn also her brothers.

You could almost always be found running around the street with the Shelby children, playing stupid games or causing a bit of trouble. The brothers never seemed to really care that you and Ada were girls. I mean sure they would be protective over you with danger or boys, but they didn’t exclude you or limit the activities just cause of your gender- and for this time period, that meant a lot.

Tommy in particular, you had always taken an interest in. He was quieter than the other brothers, and a bit smarter too. He was calm and calculated but also fun and sweet. You knew you could always go to him if you needed something and he had no problem getting into fights to protect you and Ada.

It was a very prominent memory in your mind, the day you realized your crush on Tommy. It was your 13th birthday and he was the first Shelby to arrive at your home to wish you a happy birthday. Even before Ada, who you could only assume was running around with her little boyfriend. Of course you didn’t mind though.

But it was your birthday and you were home alone as your mother was away at work and your father had been dead for years, and you heard a knock on your door. You got up from the table where you sat eating some breakfast and strode towards the door, upon opening it you see a 16 year old Tommy standing infront of you. He smiled down at you. “I believe I owe you, a Happy Birthday” He said rather smug and sarcastically but in a fun and playful manner.

You couldn’t help the smile that emerged from your face as he pulled you into a quick hug, once he drew away from you, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box wrapped with some ribbon, “And a little gift for you, of course.” he held the box out towards you. Your face tinted a bit pink as you looked down “oh Tommy you really didn’t have to get me anything.” You insisted. “Oh but of course I did, your 13 years old today, practically an old woman now!” He joked, causing you to giggle sweetly.

You grabbed the box from his hands and unwrapped the ribbon carefully. Your smile grew wide as you opened the box to see a silver bracelet inside. You weren’t sure if it was real but you’d didn’t care of course. What meant a lot to you was the fact it was silver. Everyone usually gave you things colored gold, but you really didn’t like gold. You were just too nice to say anything. Except once- mentioning it offhandedly. You didn’t think any one heard but…he did. He always heard you when you spoke.

“It’s silver, since I know you don’t like gold all that much.” Tommy mentioned as he observed your reaction to the gift. You smiled widely up at him and quickly wrapped your arms around him in another hug. He smiled and hugged you back.

After he left you realized his kindness. He was always kind to you, he listened when you spoke and sometimes you felt like he knew more about you than Ada. And then you can’t forget he is quite handsome.

From that day on your ever waking thought was consumed by Tommy Shelby.

13 YEARS LATER; 1919

Ever since he had returned from the war, Tommy wasn’t the same. He wasn’t Tommy anymore. Tommy Shelby was long gone. This was Mr. Shelby. The leader of the Peaky Blinders and the toughest man in Birmingham.

The day he came back from France you ran to him, you went to give him a hug and to welcome him home but he stepped away, avoiding your embrace. You were confused and a bit concerned at this reaction, taking note of his glare and the almost blank expression that painted his face. The light behind his eyes you knew so well was gone.

His refusal of your hug was exceptionally odd because- before he left you were quite close more so then usually. You were both in your 20s and it was unspoken but there was definitely a bit of tension there. You weren’t sure if he felt the same about you, but you were undeniably in love with him, more than just a grade school crush.

Now though, he was a completely different man. If you were told he was a different person entirely- not even named Thomas Shelby, just with the same face…you might actually believe it.

The fun gaze he possessed before was replaced by a hard glare. The smile you were so familiar with replaced by a constant blank expression or scowl. You could’ve swore you saw him smoking a cigarette 24/7 (although that wasn’t TOO strange for him) His face was thinner, his eyes baggier, and all around you could see that this was a broken man.

You walked into the Shelby family meeting and took a seat next to Aunt Polly. Arthur looked at you and furrowed his brows, “Uh no, this is a family meeting, You are not a Shelby. Your a (l/n).” He scolded you. But you didn’t move or even seem to acknowledge his words.

“(y/n)!” He snapped, attempting to get you to reply. You turned to him slowly, staying in your seat and taking a long drag from your cigarette. “As far as your concerned I am a Shelby. I helped your sister and aunt run this place while you were off in France, and now here I am getting disrespected and have no say? What happened?” You defended yourself, your tone quite unbothered.

Before Arthur could speak Tommy chimed in, “we came back.” He said, answering your question. Your eyes moved to him, “did you though?” You asked rhetorically. He was going to reply but Polly cut him off and began the meeting.

After the meeting ended you were the last to leave, or at least you thought you were. There you sat, in your chair looking out the window, cigarette between your fingers as you got lost in thought.

You were pulled out of your mind by a rough voice behind you, “What the hell do you think your doing?” Tommy asked angrily. “Smoking.” You replied matter a factly.

He scoffed, “you know damn well that ain’t what I mean. Showing up to family meetings and acting like you are one of us, like your a peaky blinder.” He scolded you.

You got up angrily and faced him. “I am a peaky blinder Thomas. While you were away fighting in that damn war I was here! I was here with Polly and Ada, and we ran this place. We did a bloody good job at it too! I am just as capable as you are!” You defended.

He looked down at you, “it isn’t safe, the people out there are bloody viscous. Your gonna get ripped to shreds!” He said, the scowl on his face never faltering.

“You don’t get to tell me what is and isn’t safe for me, who do you think you are? My keeper? Not in a million years Thomas!” She spat at him, the words seeping into him like venom. He hadn’t heard you call him by his full first name, ever- not that he really thought about it.

He got angry now, although deep down it wasn’t anger, it was sadness. Of course it didn’t come out that way… “ACTUALLY, I CAN TELL YOU WHAT IS AND ISN’T SAFE BECAUSE I AM IN CHARGE AROUND HERE. IF YOU WANT TO BE A PEAKY BLINDER YOUR GONNA LEARN TO FOLLOW ORDERS LIKE A DAMN OBEDIENT WOMAN.” He yelled in your face. You didn’t flinch, just frowned angrily and shook your head.

“Where is Tommy. I want him back.” You said softly? Mostly to yourself. “The hell do you mean? I’m standing right fuckin’ infront of you!” He said, still angry and now a bit confused.

You looked him in the eyes. Those piercing blue eyes that used to hold the world and now, were empty and cold. “The boy who used to care for me, for others. The boy who was kind…who knew my favorite color and cared to say goodmorning and goodnight and wish me a happy birthday every year. The boy who laughed and joked and had fun and had a life! The man who would NEVER speak to me, or any other woman for that matter, like I was some common whore!” You retorted.

He scoffed, “What? You expected me to come back and be the EXACT same man? You have no idea what happened over there! you could think about it realistically- But no! your just a little girl who doesn’t understand how the god damn world works. I mean seriously, PEOPLE DIED. I WATCHED PEOPLE DIE. That changes man! And besides, what’s it matter to you anyway?!” He yelled.

You took his face in your hands roughly, putting on hand on each cheek and forcing him to look you in your eyes as you said this, said the thing you always had wanted to tell him but were always to scared to say. “IT MATTERS BECAUSE I LOVED TOMMY SHELBY. I LOVED HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING AND NOW ALL I GET IS A MAN WHO IS ANGRY AND COLD AND JUST BLOODY MEAN!” You screamed, trying to suppress the tears that threatened your eyes. Not wanting to seem weak.

He pulled away from your grasp on his face and rolled his eyes “oh, so your upset because I didn’t take you home and sleep with you as soon as I got back? FUCK, you really are a cheap fucking whore!” He yelled, slamming a drawer closed.

“THAT ISN'T THE POINT AT ALL!” You yelled and looked up to blink, so the tears wouldn’t fall. “THE POINT IS THAT I LOVED YOU….” Your tone began to soften and the tears finally fell. “I loved you and, god- Thomas I know your struggling and I know that everything over there was horrible. But you won’t even let me help you. You won’t let anyone! All you do is get angry and mean and bitter and…I know my worth and I don’t deserve this.” You responded finally. Before turning and leaving the room.

As you left Tommy watched you go, the anger in his face now melting away and revealing the sadness. He realized he had made a mistake.

3 days later; 1919

You hadn’t spoken to Tommy in days. You had been entirely avoiding him. Mostly out of anger at how he spoke to you, and partially out of embarrassment and guilt. You knew he was struggling and ended up just screaming at him instead of trying to talk to him- but in your defense he was being rude first. And then you told him you were in love with him which you never even considering doing. It was not the greatest memory right now.

Tommy seemed quite alright, some rough business with other gangs but nothing too out of the ordinary, you knew how business was.

It was around midnight you assumed, you had just gotten out of bed to make some tea since you were unable to sleep. As you waited for the water to heat you heard a knock at the door. You looked suspiciously at it.

You grabbed your gun off the table near the door and held it tight as you looked through the peephole.

A soft sigh left your lips as you saw who it was, Thomas Shelby. You rolled your eyes before putting your gun down and opening the door to see what he could possibly want.

You hadn’t noticed through the peephole but he looked pretty messy. In just his pajamas and a jacket, his hair a mess and his face covered in sweat. You looked concerned, and any annoyance you had at his arrival soon washed away.

“I uh. I had a nightmare.” Tommy started, as he stood nervously in your doorway. “I’ve been having them every night really.” He continued softly. Your gaze softened. “Oh Tommy. Come in.” You moved out the way and let him walk in, he took a seat on your sofa as you closed the door and took the water off the stove- then moved to join him on the couch.

“I’m sorry (y/n). For the other day and showing up here now. All those things I said I- I didnt mean it. Your not a whore. Or a stupid little girl, you’re smart and beautiful and you’ve always been a deal too good for me…and tonight I woke up from my nightmare and I just. I don’t know…You said you wanted to help me, and I was scared of letting anyone help me. But I..love you.” He confessed, the look in his eyes tired and sad, but also that warm familiar look you knew well.

You put your hands on his cheeks softly, a striking 180 from how you held his face the other day, and placed your forhead against his. You could feel his shaky breaths on your face as you just sat there for a moment. “I will help you get through this, all of it. Because I love you too, Tommy.” You said as you sat there, once again getting to feel and smell him there with you, you missed this proximity to him.

Tommy smiled a soft smile as you called him his nickname. He put his hands atop yours, which were still on his face, and leaned in to connect his lips with yours in a quick kiss. It was quick but it was also soft and loving. You both had clearly waited for this for so long and it was worth it. “I missed hearing you call me that.” Tommy admitted. “I always thought my name sounded best coming out of your mouth” he said a bit suggestively. You chucked.

“Why don’t we head upstairs to my room? You can stay here, incase you have another nightmare.” You suggested, smiling softly at him as you pulled away from the closeness to look at him fully. He nodded softly before getting up.

As you got back to your room and crawled into bed and layed on your side facing the wall. He climbed in a moment after you, you could feel the dip in the mattress as he got in and under the covers. After he adjusted for a moment you felt his arm wrap around your waist and his body press against yours, his face burying in your hair. “I hope this is alright, love.” He asks softly.

You smile and grab hold of his hand which is resting on your stomach. “Definitely.” You reply as you both snuggle close and drift off to sleep.

Tommy Shelby didn’t have another nightmare that entire night he spent cuddled up with you in your bed, and sure he had a long way to go but he knew with your help it would be okay.

[katyawriteswhump]

See if I care

Late entry for @steddieangstyaugust prompt 24: ‘Go, see if I care,’ and also prompt 18 ‘right person, wrong time’ (I originally scribbled this idea for that one… whoops!)

Summary: When Eddie develops mysterious powers, he’s scared out of his mind. Steve is equally terrified of losing Eddie.

Rating: E. CW: problematic emotions, sexual content, self harm. Tags: established steddie, needy steve, eddie had powers. WC: 2000-ish.

…

Steve was staring into the pool, which had been emptied for the winter, when the mail van drew up outside.

He hurried over to take the delivery then turned over the single dog-eared letter. The address was written in Eddie’s hand. A thunderclap resonated through Steve’s chest, and he opened it quickly.

Steve, sorry it’s been ages since my last letter. Peru was a bust, so I followed the crazy visions to Pittsburgh, where I found this total badass with powers like mine. She’s helped me access locked up memories, and it’s blown me away.

Apparently, I spent several years as a kid in Hawkins Lab. Yeah, that dump that looks all shut up. They trained me to use my powers as a weapon, some bull about beating Soviets, and then something happened. Something so bad, my memory still won’t let me see it. After that, they must’ve somehow dumped me back with my uncle, and he was made to believe I was with my Pa all that lost time…

Steve skipped forward, flipped over the paper.

“Please, Eddie,” he whispered, “I need to know you’re coming home, or I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

….

Three months earlier

“This is a baaaad idea,” said Eddie, as he and Steve squished into the bank queue. “They’ll take one look at the tats, the hair, the name Munson, and they’ll pee their forced-conformity pants and run screaming.”

“Jesus, have a little faith.” Steve didn’t get what Eddie was so nervous about. “They’ll let us open the account, no sweat. I’ve got a reference from my mom, and she’s super-well respected.”

“Yeah, but putting down a deposit for a condo? It’s kinda drastic, dude. I mean—”

“Chill.” Steve’s fingertips brushed Eddie’s soft lips. “It’s gonna be f—"

“EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND.”

Steve’s heart literally leaped into his mouth. A bunch of armed guys wearing cartoon character masks stormed into the bank. Steve threw himself behind the nearest counter, bunched up with Eddie and several others from the queue. Screams and cries filled the air, echoed by the piercing rat-a-tat of gunfire.

Steve covered his ears. Oh God, oh God. But they’re only after money. They don’t want us. 

He lifted his face from his knees, reached for Eddie’s hand. Eddie looked frantic, clenching and unclenching his other fist.

“Breathe,” mouthed Steve. “It’s gonna be—"

At the sound of a child’s wail, Steve’s blood jumped again. He peeped around the counter. A robber wearing a Bugs Bunny mask had picked on a woman who’d been waiting with her kid. The little girl screamed and sobbed, while the robber waved his gun at the kneeling woman:

“Open the vault, NOW,” yelled Bugs to a quivering bank clerk. “Or you’re all gonna be finger-painting with mommy’s brains.”

Steve leaped to his feet, threw his arms in the air. “What is wrong with you, a-hole? Taking a hostage with a kid?”

“Yeah? You wanna be a hero? You wanna take her place?”

“Um…” Steve’s brain caught up with his instincts and his knees turned to jello.

Oh. Shit.

Steve felt a sickening crack across the back of his head. The next few minutes passed in a pain-drenched blur. He was thrown to the ground, dragged up again, pushed around. There was waaaay too much noise, more shouts about opening the vault, and he was scared he was gonna puke. He found himself held flush against Bugs Bunny’s chest, the cool butt of a pistol at his temple.

Always did hate that son-of-a-bitch carrot muncher.

“You wanna play games too?” Steve winced at the robber’s deafening yell in his ear, although the gun slid from his head. He lifted his chin to see Eddie facing them down. Looking pissed and spooked in equal measures. “Do YOU want a bullet in your brain, you long-haired loon?"

Steve’s terror spiked. Eddie lifted his arms and roared. A heavy blast hit Steve, throwing him backwards. He impacted something with a crunch and then landed with a heavy splat in a slick sea of blood and gore.

Somebody shot me. Or there was a bomb. I’m dying!

A wave of dizziness carried Steve far, far away.

…

Steve was in hospital for twenty-four hours, suffering from concussion, bruising and shock. Dustin visited Steve. His mom flew home, leaving his father alone in Paris. Robin was hard to get rid of. No sign of Steve’s boyfriend, though.

He was back at home in his room—moping and bored out of his aching skull—when someone tapped on the window. Steve hurried over, grabbed a wide-eyed, scared-looking Eddie and hauled him inside.

“Thanks,” gasped Eddie. “You know I suck at climbing.”

“Why not use the door like a normal person?” They stood nose to nose, breaths bated, not quite touching. “I mean, my mom isn’t mad at you. Not like I am.”

A beat passed. Steve glared and trembled and was pretty sure Eddie trembled worse.

“Steve, I’m sorry I didn’t swing by before.”

Steve exhaled crossly, mumbled, “Whatever.” They tumbled forward into each other’s arms and into a desperate kiss.

Steve made out like it was his last moment on earth—all that mattered was Eddie’s touch, Eddie’s longed-for taste, Eddie’s nearness. When they finally broke apart, Steve rested his forehead on Eddie's, burrowed his arms up the back of Eddie’s t-shirt:

“What the heck happened?” he asked. “That grainy footage from the bank is all over the news. Half the town believes you killed that bank robber somehow, and Dustin sure as heck says it’s real. Telekinesis, or something like that. Why didn’t you tell me you had freakin’ superpowers?”

“Because it’s scaring the shit outta me.” Eddie extracted himself from Steve and started pacing the room. “Look, Steve. I’m gonna have to get the hell out of Dodge. Alone.”

It took a moment for Eddie’s words to hit home. Steve staggered back and sat down heavily on the bed. “You’re dumping me?”

“Listen, I only discovered I could do this weird shit recently and it’s brutal.” Eddie hooked his arms around himself, unhooked them, and began wringing his hands. “When you were in danger, I hadn't a clue what to do. Then I threw Bugs Bunny into that wall so hard he exploded and you got caught up in it. I had literally no control over ANYTHING. You see why I can’t be with you?”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “You’re blaming me?”

“Not what I said, Steve.” Eddie clawed his hair. “Don’t you get it? I could hurt more people. I could hurt you. And here’s the real stinger—you’re the town’s whitebread hero for offering yourself as hostage. I’m more of an outcast freak than ever! Hawkins Post ran an editorial saying I commune with the devil and should be arrested for Bugs’ murder. Jesus, I goddamn hate that I killed, and I’d do it all over… to save you.”

“I can handle this.” Steve squeezed the words from tightly clenched teeth. “Christ, I can look out for myself. None of this is a good reason for us to split.”

Eddie stopped pacing, puffed out a sigh that sounded horribly like one of relief. “I’m sorry. You’re the right person. It’s simply the wrong darn time.”

“Go, then!” Steve leaped up and screamed point-blank in Eddie’s face. “See if I care!”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped and he turned away. He’d gotten one leg slung over Steve’s windowsill, when he peeped back, face crumpling. Steve dived forward and flung his arms around Eddie. Two seconds later, they were rolling on his bed, kissing each other stupid again.

“Holy shit. I missed you so much,” groaned Eddie.

Steve savored a flicker of triumph, then plunged his tongue back down Eddie’s throat. 

They peeled each other’s shirts off, kissing and breaking apart, then kissing again. Steve’s jaw ached, and all his bruises from the robbery started up singing. Soon, Eddie was dry rutting into Steve, jerky and desperate and hurting Steve worse. Steve didn’t care. His fingers tugged and tangled and messed up Eddie’s hair, and then he clung so hard.

They’d never had full-on sex. Steve was ready as always to roll over, spread his legs, and offer Eddie pretty much anything. He’d bang Eddie silly too, if Eddie wanted that. Eddie shoved his hand down the back of Steve’s pants, grabbed the meat of Steve’s butt and squeezed hungrily. Nevertheless, he seemed pretty happy carrying on like this, and they’d both already pushed beyond a semi. Steve fiddled down his own fly then Eddie’s.

“Damn, Steve… Gnnnng!”

They grasped each other’s dicks and scrubbed against each other’s stomachs, skins sliding, getting slippery and wet. Then they started up kissing again, and it was never gonna take long. Steve spurted messily over Eddie’s hand and chest. Eddie’s dick jerked crazily in the circle of Steve’s fist.

Jesus... Wow! Ouch?!?

Steve felt like his brain as well as Eddie’s dick exploded. Gaudy colors wheeled in front of his eyes, echoed by a disturbing crackling noise. Eddie broke the kiss, collapsed, boneless and sweaty, on top of Steve.

For a few happy moments, they floated, their heavy breaths falling into rhythm.

Then Steve spotted the broken window, the glass on the carpet.

And heard his mother’s shout: “Steve? Are you okay? What on earth was that noise?”

“Fine, mom. Uh, just a minute.” Thank Christ his door was bolted.

Steve remained on the bed, his brains still mush from the crazy-hot orgasm. Eddie was already on his feet, dragging his shirt on. Then he was at the window, gingerly hoisting himself over the shattered remnants of the pane.

“Don’t you dare!” hissed Steve, forcing himself bolt upright. “I’m coming with you. I just need to grab some stuff. Clothes… meds… cash.”

“Are you insane? You either bagged yourself a poltergeist who hates guys jacking off together… or I just exploded your window.” Eddie raked damp hair from his doleful eyes. “I’m sorry, Babe. I hope this won’t be forever.”

He lowered himself down and disappeared. Steve dithered, torn. He wanted to chase after Eddie, but his stupid concussion headache now hurtled back with vengeance.  Plus, his mom hammered on the door. “Steve! What’s going on?”

“I, uh… I dunno.” He straightened his clothes, bustled to conceal the worst of the mess. “I had the TV on, and… Something smashed into my window, I guess.”

He let her in and slumped on his destroyed bed, while she tiptoed around the glass. He dabbed his lips, still burning with Eddie’s kisses.

He waited till his mom had gone to call a glazier. Then he busted his knuckles punching the wall, nursed his bleeding fist, and cried.

…

Steve scanned the letter, helplessly seeking the words he needed.

The words that told him Eddie was coming home to him at last.

After Eddie had left, Steve had holed himself away with Dustin, who’d shared geek theories about Eddie’s powers—mainly gamma rays and other dweeby shit out of comic books. Dustin knew tons more about Eddie’s crazy-pants talents than Steve did. In fact, Steve suspected Eddie had spilled all to Dustin long before he’d been forced to reveal himself to Steve.

“His powers were changing him,” Dustin had told Steve. “Eddie was never one for heroics. And there he was, foiling bank robberies. It scared him shitless.”

“Total bull,” Steve had snapped. “Eddie always had that streak in him, I swear. The only thing he’s being a coward about is…

“… me.”

Yada yada yada. 

Me, me, ME.

Steve guts knotted tightly, as he scanned Eddie’s letter a third time. 

I love you, wrote Eddie, toward the end.

“I love you too,” murmured Steve. “When you’re ready to come home, I promise I won’t frogmarch you into another bank. Push you into all that grown-up crap. I’ll be there for you, when you need me. God, I’m such an idiot.”

He furiously screwed up the letter and dropped it to the leaves and sludge at the bottom of the empty pool. Then he jumped in after and fished it right out. He read it properly, studying harder than he ever had in class.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Take all the time you need, Eddie. I wish I could tell you… I’ll wait.”

…

Eddie conquers all, becomes a superhero crime-fighter known as The Stunner. Steve is his sidekick and Dustin his gadget guy and they all live happily ever after. 

Which is actually closer to the angst-light fic that I intended to write before this wrote itself instead 😛

Thanks for reading!

My Stranger Things fic on AO3

[wordofthewise]

Get up.. please?

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE LAST OF US P2!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x !fem!reader

Description: Y/N witnessing Joel’s death, and not knowing how to cope.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, mentions of not eating, angst.

Words: 893

A/N: I wanted to write this, because I’m still not doing too well after playing some of TLOU P2. This is basically me going through it. I fucking miss him. This is also the first thing I've posted on here, so please don't judge.

When Y/N found out that Joel and Tommy were missing, her mind went crazy. She was desperate to find them, she needed them to be okay. She climbed onto her horse and headed East, searching everywhere she could, screaming their names, not even caring if it drew out the infected. Her priority was finding them.

She stopped as she noticed a lodge not too far from her. She tied up her horse, and made her way around to the back, where she found an opening for her to sneak in. She debated whether or not to call out their names, but decided against it, as to not attract unwanted attention.

She crawled her way into the lodge, through a hole in the wall, grabbing her gun just in case shit went sideways. She heard the soft sound of muffled cries coming from the basement, and without thinking, she bolted for the basement door. Peeking through, she saw a girl with a long blond braid, gripping onto a golf club, looming over an injured, bloody Joel.

Before she knew it, Y/N had made her way into the room, where she was quickly tackled to the floor by one of the men. She thrashed and kicked, desperate to get out of the grasp of the man, though a few others had joined in, helping pin her to the ground. She was facing Joel, making eye contact with him as he bled.

“How’d you find us!” The girl yelled, pointing the golf club at Y/N’s head, though she didn’t even notice, she was too busy trying to fight off the people that held her down.

“HEY!” Another man spoke, pushing the golf club away from Y/N. “What are you doing, Owen?” The girl replied, getting up in his face. “No, what are YOU doing, Abby? We want him dead, not her! She’s just a kid!” He yelled, standing his ground. “SHE WAS THERE! SHE WAS AN ACCOMPLICE!” Abby retorted, her voice raising. “SHE WAS JUST A CHILD!” Owen replied, before taking in a deep breath. “Look, if she was able to find us, they will be able to as well! We’ve got a whole city that’s probably looking for us, right now!” He explained. “We need to get out of here, and fast! Get it over with, I’ll start packing” He finished.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Get it over with” She was about to kill Joel. This forced Y/N to fight, kick and scream harder than ever. Abby slowly walked over to Joel, making eye contact with Y/N, whilst an evil smile spread across her face. Her eyes welled up with tears, still trying to fight. “Joel! Please! Get up, Joel! GET UP!” She cried, begging him to fight. She watched as Abby raised the golf club. She knew that this would be the final blow. “NO! NO! PLEASE, STOP IT, PLEASE! GET UP! GET UP, JOEL! DON’T GIVE UP, PLEASE!” Joel looked at Y/N, a soft, comforting smile on his face, as the golf club hit him for the final time.

Y/N’s mind went blank, as she watched Joel’s life leave his eyes, before being knocked out cold.

“Y/N! Wake up” A voice called, lightly shaking her body. It was Dina. Y/N thought that just for a second, that it was all just a horrible, horrible nightmare, though when she noticed Dina’s expression, she knew it was real. Dina had a solemn look on her face, whispering a soft ‘sorry’ before moving out of the way.

And there he was, the man that had always protected her, lying dead, in a pool of his own blood. Y/N sat up quickly, throwing up next to her as the memories came flooding back.

“I should’ve fought harder! Joel would’ve” she said to herself, as she cried.

It was damn near impossible for her to be okay, watching as the closest thing she ever had to a father get murdered right in front of her. She couldn’t even function, she did nothing but lay in bed, clutching onto his favourite jacket. It still smelt like him.

She couldn’t bring herself to sleep, as every time she closed her eyes, she would see him covered in his own blood. She couldn’t eat, as every time she smelt food, she would feel sick. She stared at the knife that sat on her bedside table. She contemplated whether or not to take her own life.

“What’s the point when Joel isn’t here?” She thought to herself.

She thought back on all the times Joel had risked his life to protect her, all the times that he had fought for her survival. She felt as if she failed him. If the tables were turned, Joel would have already slaughtered every single person in that room before they could even lay a hand on her. She recalled how she had begged him to get up despite his injuries. She felt as if it was selfish to have asked him to fight for her, especially after the trauma he had faced, mentally and physically. She felt it was selfish for her to have spent his last few moments begging him to get up, when she wasn’t even hurt, and she couldn’t.

She remembered how Joel had taught her how to swim, how to play guitar and even how to write songs. She remembered the song he used to sing to her whenever she was sad, or whenever she couldn’t fall asleep.

She gripped onto his jacket, as she quietly sung to herself to sleep, imagining that Joel was there.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl”.

[rrain-writes]

A little one shot I wrote. All you need to know is Links mother was Sheika, and it is set after botw. Enjoy!

Link didn’t understand what was going on.

People wearing uniform similar to his papa’s had marched into the house while the family had been eating breakfast.

Papa had stood and asked what they were doing there, making the face he did when Link did something wrong. It was a rare occasion Link and Aryll got to see him, so that was probably why.

The men had started demanding something about a sword and Link himself. 

The young boy wondered if it had anything to do with the sparkly sword he had found a couple of days ago that his parents had told him to hide, the sword they discussed in hushed whispers at night that made Link want to sink deep down.

His Papa was yelling at the men now, and Mama had started crying.

‘You can’t take him! He’s a child!’ She stood in front of him protectively, and although he didn’t understand what was going on he gathered it was bad.

Aryll clung onto his shirt. Link put a protective arm in front of her, mirroring his mother.

‘Mama.’ He said, quietly, tugging on her skirt.

She stifled a sob, and when she looked down at him her he saw tears forming glistening paths down her pretty face.

People often said he looked like her.

Aryll screamed as one of the men grabbed Papa and punched him, again and again.

Mama screamed too. ‘Don’t touch him! Don’t hurt my husband, please!’ Her white hair moved as she shook her head.

One of the men growled something. It sounded Hylian, but Link was only just starting to learn that language in school.

Mama replied in the same language, fists clenched.

The sound of skin hitting skin reverberated in Links ears, and he wouldn’t be forgetting the sound anytime soon.

Mama sank to the ground. Turning to hold Link close, she whispered something for only him to hear. 

‘Be strong my little dragon. It will be alright.’ 

She pulled away once again, fierce determination on her face.

Then Mama turned and faced the men again.

A knife from the kitchen table was in her hand.

Papa wasn’t moving.

Aryll pressed against his side.

‘Run!’ She commanded him.

Later, he would wish he had gone back to help her. But in the moment he only listened to her orders, grabbing Aryll’s hand in his own and sprinting out the back door.

-

‘-ink. Link? Oh, you’re ok.’

A woman knelt in front of him, but her hair was not white, but gold, and her eyes were not his mother’s comforting scarlet, but a soft green.

‘Zelda.’ He said.

‘Memory?’ She asked gently.

He turned away. ‘Did you know how the soldiers came to bring me to the castle after I drew the sword?’

She frowned. ‘No, but were young, weren’t you?’

Link went to speak, but his tongue felt heavy and throat burned. He raised his hands instead.

They hurt my father first. He began to sign.

Zelda listened, like he knew she would.

‘Oh Link.’ She breathed when he was done. Leaning forward, her gentle arms wrapped around his shaking body.

They stayed that way for a while. Not as a princess and a hero, but friends comforting one another. 

If anyone saw them, they should see two children sitting in a field of flowers. You could almost forget about the ruins of a life that once drowned them.

[ridiculoser06]

THIS FUCKING FILM BARBIE MOVIE *EUGHAHH*

Spoilers. GO SEE THIS FILM IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Barbie movie review from someone who can’t string a sentence together without keyboard slamming or yelling.

How queer coded the discontinued/weird barbie’s are PAINS ME. THANK YOU GRETA MY GOD.

Allan is for the all the gender non conforming mfs but also he’s so ✨bisexual✨ HELP. Like he’s not barbie, he’s not Ken, he’s just in between he’s to kenly for the barbies and too barbie-y for the Ken’s so he’s like his own category please that’s my existence 99% of the time.

Like he’s not manly (kenough) to be accepted by the Ken’s but also the barbies don’t really pay much attention to him either???!? Who hangs out with Allan! Allan is ALONE. Allan has no one to relate to because THERE’S ONLY ONE ALLAN. He feels so fucking disconnected from both sides of the spectrum, he has no one to connect with, he’s just THERE. He’s just ALLAN. There’s only one of him he doesn’t have the same connection that the barbies have and the Ken’s have because they ignore his fucking existence.

Also I’m MAD about midge. Why wasn’t she in any of the film she and Allan should’ve been like power duo. Also barbies little sisters like do they exist. Also where do the Ken’s live? Do the live at beach? So many questions. (I think they’re gonna do a sequel, like- I’ve just got a gut feeling. I sense the sequel material yk yk.)

EUGHUAHHAH

Weird barbie? The experience of most queer girls. Excluded ✅ Called weird ✅ Funky hair ✅

Like she knows what it’s like to be cast as the dog and the dad in games of house. She did the man voices for the Ken’s because she’s just ‘better at them.’ She made her Ken’s leave for work trips so that the barbie bffs could stay in the dream house together. She put her barbies on her disco ball and re-enacted the Miley Cyrus Wrecking Ball music video. She is me I am her. She took the faces off of her dolls with nail polish remover and drew them back on with sharpies and cut up their hair and gave them Ken’s leather jackets. I LOVE WEIRD BARBIE AHAKGAHA.

But also stereotypical barbie is such a good representation of what growing up is like tho. Being a woman is so fucking terrifying. Growing up is terrifying and this movie absolutely subverted all my expectations like I thought it’d be some “we have to not let this little girl grow up! Ah- she’s 13 now she’s getting rid of her dolls, no don’t grow up you’re still young, yippee we saved the day now we can all play dolls.” BUT NO! They respected the fact that we all grow up and at a certain point we stopped playing with dolls. BUT ALSO Gloria shows the fact that a love of playing with dolls doesn’t always end for women, we still have such fond memories to look back on and some even relive those memories when they have daughters of their own.

The Ken’s are so interesting too tbf. The alt-right pipeline is so dangerous for impressionable minds (like Ken’s) and so many men fall victim to it, be it intentional or not. The patriarchy does not just hurt women it hurts men to.

This movie is such a great explanation for feminism imo, feminism isn’t to put men down because no one benefits from the patriarchy except those in a position of power.

This movie tells the story of women, and how damaging the patriarchy can be to society and tells it in such a unique, fun and beautiful way. EEK I LOVE ITTTT!!!

P.s can you tell I had fun with the text colours AGAAGAHAGAG

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Chapter 1 Spoilers

Not 100% accurate. This is not a full translation.

Standing in front of me, blocking the men’s way and protecting me was一

???: “Mai.”

Mai: “Ah!”

Hideyoshi: “You can relax now.”

Mai: “Hideyoshi!”

I blinked my eyes in the blinding light, and Hideyoshi, covering me with his broad back, smiled over his shoulder.

(Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about this, but I’m glad he’s okay.)

I felt a heat rising in my chest, seeing Hideyoshi’s figure in front of me.

Hideyoshi: “Mai, are you hurt?”

Mai: “I’m fine. You came right away.”

Hideyoshi: “I see. I’m glad I got here in time.”

He drew his sword from its scabbard as his gentle voice trailed off.

Hideyoshi: “I will destroy everything that threatens you.”

Hideyoshi: “No one, not even a single person, will touch my precious treasure.”

Hideyoshi: “Are you guys ready?”

Man 1: “You bastard, you’re gonna keep that woman all to yourself?”

Man 2: “Asshole, let’s cut him down.”

Even in the face of over ten bandits, he doesn’t flinch a bit.

Hideyoshi: “Mai, don’t leave my side.”

Mai: “Okay, got it.”

Man 3: “Tch. You flirt.”

The large man who said these words raised his sword and ran towards Hideyoshi, but一

Hideyoshi: “Ha!”

He parried the blade and punched the man’s throat.

Man 3: “Guh!”

As the man collapsed, foaming in the mouth, the surrounding bandits’ eyes widened in surprise.

Man 4: “How dare you harm our comrade!”

Hideyoshi: “Shut up. I asked you if you were ready for this.”

Hideyoshi: “I won’t give you any slack or mercy.”

The voice was so chilling that it frightened everyone.

Man 4: “Damn it!”

Hideyoshi grabbed the spear of the guy who attacked him and took it from him by force.

Men: “Gghhh...!”

He swung the spear vigorously, knocking down several men.

The bandits, with bloodshot eyes, raise their swords, but Hideyoshi mercilessly subdued them one by one.

(Wow.)

(I know he’s strong, but this fighting style...)

The memory of when he went to rescue the captured Nobunaga flashed through my mind.

The way he defeated his enemies with his fierce swordsmanship and twisted them with overwhelming power reminded me of a demon god.

Man: “Damn it. Treasure, you say? It’s just a woman.”

Hideyoshi: “Just a woman, huh?”

Hideyoshi raised his blade, looking down at the grunting man.

(Stop.)

Mai: “Wait, Hideyoshi!”

Hideyoshi: “...........”

I yelled, and the tip of his blade stopped just before it reached the man.

Mai: “Enough...I think that’s enough.”

Hideyoshi: “You’re right.”

Hideyoshi sighed and swung his sword, flicking away the blood.

Hideyoshi: “Mai.”

Hideyoshi turned to me with a grim expression on his face.

Hideyoshi: “Are you really not injured? Are you unharmed?”

Mai: “Yeah, not even a scratch. What about you?”

Hideyoshi: “Yeah, I’m fine too.”

His eyes narrowed in relief.

(I finally reached Hideyoshi.)

The dazzling smile on his face captivated me.

Hideyoshi: “Come here, Mai.”

Mai: “Okay!”

As I nodded, he spread his arms wide open.

Wanting and yearning for his touch, I stepped closer to him.

Hideyoshi: “Sorry.”

Mai: “Huh?”

For some reason, his expression stiffened.

Hideyoshi: “My hands are covered in blood. If I hug you, I’ll stain you.”

(Oh, I see. Because you faced those bandits.)

Hideyoshi: "It's unfortunate, but I'll have to wait until we get back to hold you in my arms."

Hideyoshi: "Well, saving the fun for later isn't a bad idea either."

Mai: "Hideyoshi..."

My heart felt heavy hearing him mumble these words like he was ashamed of himself.

Mai: "Please don't say those lonely things."

Hideyoshi: “What?”

(There’s no need to feel ashamed.)

As he tried to take another step and turn his back on me, I embraced him tightly, refusing to let go.

Hideyoshi: “No, you’ll get dirty.”

Mai: “It’s okay! I’m fine.”

Hideyoshi writhed out of my embrace, but I tightened my arms around him.

I could tell from his breathing that he was confused.

(Don’t worry about it.)

Mai: “Thank you for protecting me. You were so dependable and cool.”

Hideyoshi: “Mai.”

Mai: “You once said you didn’t want me to see your beastly nature, but I love that side of yours.”

Hideyoshi: “...........”

Mai: “I mean it.”

Hideyoshi: “Yeah, I know.”

Hideyoshi: “You always remind me of that. I can never match up to you.”

That night.

I was invited to the hall for a war council of the Oda army.

Mai: "Excuse me, it's Mai."

As I stepped into the hall, I saw Nobunaga seated in the front, with Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide on either side.

Masamune and Ieyasu were also present, sitting in the back, while Mitsunari was next to someone I didn't know.

(Who the heck is that guy?)

(Anyway, this one's an impressive gathering. I feel so out of place.)

Mai: "Um, is it okay for me to be here?"

Nobunaga: "It's fine. You deserve to be here since you've done us a great service in the last war."

Mitsuhide: "I'm surprised that a carefree lass like you could stop the Oda-Uesugi-Takeda conflict orchestrated by Kennyo."

Mai: "Is that a compliment?"

Masamune: "Mai, long time no see. I see you came back today."

Ieyasu: "Hideyoshi was so anxious about your return that he couldn't relax."

Mai: "Huh? Really?"

Mitsunari: "He's right. Lord Hideyoshi was going back and forth in the hallway so many times I was afraid he'd get dizzy!"

(I see. He's been waiting for me.)

Hideyoshi: "Hey, guys, don't say unnecessary things."

Hideyoshi: "Ah, Mai, sit down. Let's start the war council."

Masamune: "No need to be embarrassed now, Hideyoshi."

Mitsuhide: "We don't mind if you two share a passionate embrace."

Hideyoshi: "There's no way I would do that in public."

(I'm so relieved to see everyone safe and sound in person like this.)

Mai: "Have a safe trip, Hideyoshi."

Hideyoshi: "Yeah, I'm off."

He patted my head and lightly kissed my lips, but一

(Huh?)

I heard a faint sound.

Hideyoshi: "What?"

Mai: "What's wrong?"

For some reason, he was holding his lips.

Hideyoshi: "For a moment, I feel like I'm being pushed away."

(Being pushed away? I didn't feel anything like that.)

Mai: "Maybe it was static electricity."

Hideyoshi: "Static electricity?"

Mai: "It's a phenomenon that tends to occur in dry seasons. More importantly, are you okay?"

I stood on tiptoe to get a better look at his lips, and he gave me a gentle smile.

Hideyoshi: "If nothing happened to you, it's fine."

Hideyoshi: "Maybe it's just my imagination. Well, I'm off this time."

Hideyoshi waved his hand as if nothing had happened and left.

As I watched him walk away, I tilted my head in confusion.

(I guess it was static electricity, after all.)

(Okay, it's done!)

Mai: "Sorry to keep you both waiting. It's done."

Mitsunari: "Thank you so much, Lady Mai."

Mai: "I think I got the stitches right, but could you please check?"

Ieyasu: "No need. I trust your skills."

When Ieyasu took the kimono I held out to him一

Ieyasu: "!"

(Ieyasu?)

Ieyasu furrowed his eyebrows and dropped the kimono the moment my fingertips touched his.

Ieyasu: "What was that?"

Mai: "What was what?"

Ieyasu: "You were fine?"

(What is he talking about?)

Confused, I reached to pick up the fallen kimono at Ieyasu's feet.

Mitsunari: "Lady Mai, let me pick it up."

Mitsunari also reached out his hand to pick up the kimono and as our fingertips touched一

Mitsunari: "----!"

Startled, Mitsunari quickly withdrew his hand, surprised by something.

(Mitsunari too?)

Mai: "Um, what in the world is going on?"

Mitsunari: "You didn't feel anything?"

Mitsunari: "I felt a tingling sensation at the tips of my fingers."

Ieyasu: "You too?"

(So, Ieyasu is the same.)

Mai: "Don't tell me there's still a needle left in it."

I hurriedly spread out the kimono again and thoroughly checked every corner.

Ieyasu: "Did you find anything?"

Mai: "Nothing."

I looked again and found nothing that looked like it.

Ieyasu: "Forget it. If there's nothing there, then it's fine."

Ieyasu: "Maybe I was just a little tired."

Mitsunari: "Maybe it's the same for me."

(I suppose so.)

Both of them didn't seem to feel anything this time when they picked up their kimonos.

Ieyasu: "See you later. I'll come back when my kimono gets torn again."

Mitsunari: "Lady Mai, I'll leave you then."

Mai: "Okay. Take care, guys."

As I watched Ieyasu and Mitsunari leave, I suddenly remembered a similar feeling.

(I think the same thing happened a while ago.)

Mai: "Yeah, I can't remember."

➟ Chapter 2 Spoilers

[imogenkol]

Winter Wonderland at The Lodge

words: 2.1k warnings: none tags: holiday fluff, werewolf girlfriend acts like a puppy

okay so I may have cheated and combined a few prompts, but I really liked the idea of having a small little holiday fic for them because I used to do it every year. The prompts are: snowball fight, kiss under the mistletoe, and cuddle in front of the fireplace requested by @adelaidedrubman @inafieldofdaisies @aceghosts @cassietrn thank you all so much, hope you don’t mind!

Nadya reveled in the wonderful sensation of snow beneath her boots. The sound was immensely satisfying, like all of the times she went out of her way to step on a fallen autumn leaf just to hear that one of a kind, delicate crunch, only now it was every step on the mountain trail. Not enough wolves or game had cleared the path of white powder, so the human trudged on through it with a beaming smile that not many understood in this particular weather. 

The last time Nadya had been in the snow she was nearly too young to fully understand it. Blurred memories surfaced as a light flurry came down around her, the tiny snowflakes melting almost instantly once they landed on her shoulders. She recalled a lumpy clump of ice in her palm that she had attempted to mold into a snowball, but lacked any coordinated technique given that her hands were so tiny. She kept trying, but it annoyed her how fast her fingers went painfully numb until, eventually, she just gave up. A shiver accompanied the memory and Nadya adjusted her beanie and pulled her coat tighter over the layers she wore to keep the winter’s sharp bite at bay. 

A soft rustle in the trees drew her attention. Nadya scanned the woods, but couldn’t see much in the dense white landscape. The trail didn’t go near any patrol routes, so she doubted it was a werewolf. Even if it was, they would give her a wide berth out of courtesy. Jayde made sure of that. Must be a deer or some other critter scavenging for scraps. She pulled her camera out of her bag and continued on. 

Nadya didn’t keep track of all the photos she took, but she started to wonder if she would run out of all the film she received as an early Christmas gift. The magical winter forest was just too beautiful not to appreciate both in person and behind the lens of her camera. From the sugar dusted landscape to large paw prints along the trail, Nadya captured it all. She was so engrossed, in fact, that she almost hadn’t noticed the snap of a twig close by, soon followed by another several paces from the first.

Whatever it may be, it was moving fast.

This time she felt certain that something out there watched her. The feeling crept up her spine and caused a deeper shiver than the cold did. Nadya lowered her camera and searched the woods around her once again. Her instinct felt too strong to ignore and she did not appreciate being stalked. 

“I can hear you,” she called out. “Do you need something?”

Silence overtook the forest. 

Nadya backed away as she tried not to let unease settle too heavily in her gut. Perhaps it was only a deer. She couldn’t imagine any werewolf would dare toy with her like this. 

The human was about to turn around and walk back up the trail towards the Lodge when her legs connected with something large and soft behind her. Nadya jumped back with a startled yelp. She flipped around to see a massive white wolf stood in her path, tail wagging and tongue lolling out in a wolfish grin. It had been her all along.

“Are you serious?” Nadya yelled, though laughter broke through her irritation. 

Jayde sat on her haunches and looked far too pleased with herself. The stark white color of her fur blended seamlessly with their surroundings. She probably didn’t even need to try that hard to slink around unnoticed in this weather. Nadya never would have spotted her at a distance.

“You scared me, you know,” she complained and put her camera away.

Jayde let out a short bark and bowed playfully as if she were an energetic puppy and not a werewolf who could rip a grown man to shreds in seconds flat.

“That’s how you wanna do this, huh?” Nadya bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. Unlike her past self, her hands were bigger and much more deft now. She easily shaped a perfect sphere of snow. The wolf barked again and dodged in the blink of an eye, but Nadya had already launched the snowball in her direction and it impacted with a dull thud. With a triumphant laugh, she said “I might not be a softball lesbian, but I still have damn good aim!”

Jayde frolicked around her and Nadya scrambled to make another snowball. She feinted left, but Nadya anticipated the move. All of their training sessions taught her what to expect from Jayde, even in a play fight. This time, the clump of snow connected with her face and she shook it off with an indignant snort.

“I know all your tricks by now,” Nadya boasted and quickly sent another volley at her.

They went back and forth – the werewolf running in sporadic circles to avoid incoming attacks as the human used tree trunks as cover while she built her arsenal. Snow now caked the thick white fur of Jayde’s coat, making her look even fluffier than usual. She could pass as a polar bear, Nadya thought. She landed another hit and realized Jayde had enough of losing. 

Nadya saw it coming. “Don’t do it!” she shouted, but had no power to stop her girlfriend’s retaliation. 

Jayde leapt and her massive wolf body tackled the human into a pile of soft powder. Nadya’s startled cry became a giggle, which quickly turned into uncontrollable laughter as Jayde’s snout poked at all of her ticklish spots. She tried to wrestle her head away, but Jayde was relentless. Then Nadya wrapped her hands around her muzzle and firmly clamped it shut, causing an indignant growl to rumble in the wolf’s chest. 

“What are you gonna do now?” she challenged.

Jayde tried to shake her grip loose, but Nadya held on tighter, forcing her to use one of her giant paws to pry the girl’s hands off. Nadya knew full well that Jayde needed to be gentle with her and she took full advantage of that, shrugging her claws away. Jayde knew it, too. After a frustrated huff out of her nose, another more intimidating growl vibrated throughout her whole body like a clap of thunder, but it had no effect on the human at all. Nadya simply cocked a brow and placed a quick kiss on the werewolf’s nose. That shut her up fast. 

However, just when Nadya was about to claim victory, Jayde’s eyes twinkled mischievously and she plopped herself down right on top of her like a Great Dane who thinks it’s a lap dog. Nadya became completely pinned to the ground, sinking further into the pile of freezing snow that melted rapidly under their combined heat. She lay there groaning for a few moments before the weight became too much. 

“Alright, alright. Truce?” she suggested in a strained voice. 

Jayde nodded and stood up at the same time Nadya released her muzzle. The girl sat up and shook her head with an exasperated sigh, staring into the glowing amber eyes before her. There was an anticipated pause. 

“Well, hello,” Nadya finally greeted with a giggle and held her arms out.

The white wolf immediately fell into her embrace, nuzzling against the human and knocking her beanie askew. Nadya ran her hands through her fur, enjoying the soft, insulated warmth of her wolf form. Jayde was definitely built for this kind of weather. It made Nadya want to curl up with her somewhere quiet in the pines with the smell of campfire smoke in the breeze, but the melted snow had started to soak into the layers of her clothes. She shivered again. This time her teeth chattered as she held the wolf closer for comfort. Jayde whined in concern. 

“Yeah,” Nadya agreed and reluctantly pulled away to stand up. “Maybe we should head back. I think I need to rest by the fire.” 

That idea brightened the wolf’s demeanor. Her jaws carefully snatched onto Nadya’s sleeve, pulling her in the direction of The Lodge. Nadya chuckled again and eagerly followed. Just in time, too, because the snow storm returned with a vengeance by the time they got back indoors.

They went to their room first so that Nadya could shed her wet clothes and Jayde to change back into her human form. For Jayde, the process barely took a minute, two if she hadn’t shifted in a while. To this day, it fascinated Nadya to see. The ease with which she flowed from one form to the other and back again. Her breaking bones seemed to bother her as little as cracking joints. 

Nadya always loved to touch her after a shift – to lace their fingers together, hold her close, and feel the residual wild heat of the animal that still lingered just beneath the surface of her skin. If she looked closely, she could see shimmers of gold in the fibers of her midnight blue eyes. That’s what she loved the most. And Nadya knew how to draw the wolf back out whenever she wanted, too.  

“Did you look up?” she asked, lingering halfway out of their room as they started towards The Den. 

Jayde flashed a crooked grin. “Didn’t need to. I could smell mistletoe from down the hall.”

Almost as soon as Jayde left for patrol that morning, Nadya opened the package she had hidden in the closet and hung it right above the doorway. She knew if she didn’t act fast, Jayde in all her romantic tendencies would beat her to it. For once, Nadya wanted to jump the gun for their first real Christmas season together. 

Without further hesitation, Nadya leaned in. Even the way Jayde kissed her felt more intense after a turn. Jayde’s lips were warm enough to chase away any chill. She grabbed onto the girl’s hips with retrained strength, but her fingers still dug desperately into her skin. Her passionate cadence had that underlying primal hunger, which compelled a human like Nadya to surrender to it, but she was well accustomed to the desire of a wolf and knew how to calm its restless spirit when needed. A gentle caress down the sides of Jayde’s neck drew out a low, inhuman sound similar to a growl, but not quite as harsh. A submissive sound, Nadya thought. It slowed the ardent push and pull into something more tender, dulling both of their minds in an utterly blissful stupor. 

As they pulled away, Nadya smiled at the bright golden irises that stared back at her. In a blink, they faded. 

“You did that on purpose,” Jayde said.

Nadya gazed at her not so innocently. “Will you make me cocoa?”

The blonde laughed and pulled her girlfriend along. “Anything for you.”

With a winter storm raging outside, The Den started to gain more wolves in search of leisure time. Some were at the bar, others at the pool tables, but Jayde and Nadya claimed their usual spot right in front of the fireplace. Flames crackled and popped as they danced against the blackened brick. 

Nadya sat in between Jayde’s legs on an old leather couch, leaning back against her chest and happily sipping on a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Jayde always went above and beyond to make it gourmet style for her. Fancy chocolate, vanilla, cinnamon, homemade whipped cream, festive sprinkles. Most importantly, she made it with love. It put those cheap packets to shame and Nadya practically lived off of those every winter at her old apartment.

“How was patrol?” Nadya asked, placing her hand on Jayde’s knee and giving it a warm squeeze.

“Boring as hell,” she answered and nuzzled against the side of Nadya’s head in much the same way she had as a wolf earlier. “Until I found a no good human on the wrong side of the property line.”

“I hope you took care of that,” Nadya replied with mock-concern. 

Jayde hummed into the curve of her human’s neck. “I’m afraid she’ll keep causing me trouble.”

The brunette scoffed. “Not nearly as much trouble as you give her.”

“Well, there’s a new year coming. Who knows what might happen?”

A warm, content grin came across Nadya’s face at the hope she heard in her girlfriend’s voice. Almost as if Jayde actually looked forward to another year. Perhaps she did. It certainly felt that way when her arms tightened around Nadya’s waist as they watched the fire together. 

“As long as you stay with me, I think it’ll all work out, Jay.” 

“I think so too, love,” she agreed softly.

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @v0idbuggy @eloquentmoon @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @jackiesarch @gwynbleidd

[countrymusiclover]

9 - Haunting Vengeance

Part 10

Gemini Runaway

@dragonixfrye

Klaus vamped us upstairs where I went into the bedroom I had changing into the green tea shirt and some sleep shorts that I had on before we went on our date. Walking around the house I finally found him standing in front of a large fireplace. Stepping around the couch I plopped down on the floor. “Alright so I’m gonna need a knife and some candles. Then you sit across from me.”

He vamped through the house coming back with what I needed crossing his legs when he sat down across from me. “What exactly should I be prepared for, Raelyn?”

“Basically it will be like when you showed me your memories with your sister. Except it will take a lot of my strength to do something like this. I’ve only ever heard of witches doing something like this so I will be very rusty at this…give me your hands please.” Holding my hands out flat he placed his larger ones in mine. “Inteo….Merabas hic libatal….Insertia."

Klaus’s eyes shifted to focus onto mine then dropped down to the knife near my feet. The candles around us light up for a brief moment then returned to their normal flame control. "What exactly is the knife for then if this is a mind spell?"

“I have to link my body with yours since you’re immortal and can’t die. You don’t have to worry about it. I am just doing this as a precaution.” Picking up the knife I drew the blade lightly across my palm doing the same to Klaus’s where I quickly began chanting since he would heal at a faster rate then I would. “Phasmatos tribum, melan veras raddiam, onu pavadus ponemus.” Insertia.." Klaus sniffed trying to control the urge when he smelt the siphons blood. The candle flames grew bigger once more before there was a slight wind and Raelyn closed her eyes so he did too entering the witches mind.

“Uncle Joshua, how can we help? We don’t have magic of our own.” Jacob asked, holding my hand in his while he led us outside into the middle of nowhere in the woods of Portland.

I began to feel nervous in the pit of my stomach. He had shown up at our house saying that we needed to come with him immediately and since he was our Uncle we listened. "You said there was an emergency. What kind?”

"The problem is our Coven of witches will die unless you two Merge." He stopped in his tracks drawing a knife from his back pocket.

Jacob looked back at me. "Merge, what does that mean?"

"It's a tradition that our witch Coven must do. Twins in our family are in line to be leaders. That's what you two will be. You must contain your magic together and the stronger of the two will become the leader." He explained handing the blade outward to me.

Reaching my hand forward I heard someone breaking through the treeline seeing our mother and father. "Joshua stop! I told you that I don’t want to help you. I will not let you kill my children!”

“I don’t care, Eliza. Incendia Bulla.” Joshua raised his hand trapping my brother in a ring of fire before he grabbed his head making Jacob drop to his knees screaming. “Ah Sha Lana.”

I screamed trying to move forwards but I smacked an invisible wall. “Jacob!”

“Let my boy go, Joshua!” Our father yelled but he got thrown backwards into the dirt.

My mother ran forward shoving her hands on the fire wall, burning her fingers until the magic in the ring died down letting her inside the circle. She ran forward grabbing her brother by her shoulder with her hands turning red siphoning his magic. “You can go to hell, Joshua. You aren’t my brother anymore.”

“Eliza you still don’t realize do you…” Her brother grabbed her by her throat, choking her making her claw at his wrist. “If the twins don’t merge before I die then the entire coven dies along with me. That means you and your children will die even if they don’t merge!”

Raising my hand I broke the barrier spell chanting the words in a panic. “Solvet…Now let my mother go and we will merge.” Stomping up to my brother grasping his hand in mine.

“Raelyn. Jacob, no!” She cried when he released her trying to catch her breath.

Uncle Joshua walked around our parents placing his hands on top of our intertwined hands. “Let the Merge begin then my niece and nephew.”

Sniffing through tears I watched the image of my brother dead at my feet. Clutching my hands around Klaus’s I gasped drawing my body back wrapping my arms around myself shaking. “After that moment my twin brother was dead because of me….because I wanted to save my mother from her own brother.”

“I’m sorry, Raelyn. I would have killed that man for doing that to anyone in my family.” Klaus told me where I could see his jaw clutching at the thought of seeing someone else hurting the witch in front of him.

Hugging my knees to my chest I turned my hands into fists with my knuckles almost turning white at how hard I was pressing them closed together. “I feel like a monster when I wake up in my bed from plotting a nightmare where I got my revenge on my uncle Joshua. I shouldn’t want to hurt him or the rest of my supposed family but - he took my best friend and twin from me - he tricked us into becoming a killer just like he is.”

“That’s normal in my world, Raelyn. And if you wish it I could go compel some of my hybrids to go and kill him.” He reached over, placing his hand on mine.

“No!” I snapped my head up seeing him raise a brow at my forwardness. “If anyone gets to hurt him someday it will be me and only me ... .god I should like a horrible person don’t I?”

“I’m a thousand year hybrid vampire, Rae.” He sent me a smirk raising to his feet tugging me up to stand alongside him.

“But Klaus-“

He cut me off, tucking some hair behind my ear resting his hand on my cheek where I leaned into his palm. “Rae, stop talking for a second and think. You didn’t know that the Merge meant to kill one of you because he lied. Yes you may have been stronger than your brother and that is sad. But you have to stop having a pity party and enjoy it otherwise your brother may have died for nothing.”

Flinging my arms around his neck I sniffed happily into his shirt. He wrapped his arms around my waist kissing the crown of my hair. Breaking the hug he squeezed my hand in his right. “Thank you, Nik. I’m sorry that I am an emotional mess.”

“I’m sorry" are two words you never have to say to me ever again, Raelyn Lane. Now will you join me for a family reunion?” He smiled and I sent him back the same look when we traveled to a storage place where he got a phone call and it apparently was Stefan. “Stefan. Miss me already?”

Stefan responded when he put the phone on speaker so I could hear him. “I'm just calling to thank you for my freedom.”

Klaus responded by sending me a cheeky smile coming up on the storage locker. “I like to believe I'm a man of my word. More or less.”

Stefan spoke back. “The thing is, it came at too high of a price. You took everything from me, Klaus.”

“Let bygones be bygones. Trust me, resentment gets old.” The hybrid warned him.

“You know what never gets old?” Klaus opens the truck listening to his former friend. The coffins have disappeared. “Revenge.”,

Klaus growled. “No!”

“Stefan what are you trying to do? You shouldn’t take someone else’s family” I snapped at the vampire not liking that he seems to not care. If Jacob was still alive and he did this I might want revenge too.

Klaus snarled into the cell where he just might break the whole thing in his tight grip. “What are you doing?”

Stefan responded. “I'm just enjoying my freedom.”

Klaus threatened the vampire flashing me his golden werewolf eyes. “I will kill you and everyone you've ever met!”

Stefan clicked his tongue hanging up the phone “You do that and you'll never see your family again. I wonder, Klaus. As someone who's been one step ahead for 1,000 years. Were you prepared for this?” Lifting my head up to the original hybrid I didn’t know him well but I knew he would make him pay for stealing his family.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[2plottwist]

Fate - Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean x Female!OC (Skyla)

Characters: Skyla, Winchester brothers, Bobby Singer, Castiel, Crowley

Warnings: Injury, kidnap, weapons, decapitation

Author: Kenna:)

Word Count: 1.7k

Series Masterlist

The haunting laughs of Azazel and the screams of his worshippers pounded against my head on a daily basis. No amount of distraction or questions seemed to lessen the white hot pain consistently barrelling through my body.

It’s been five years, but the one thing that does distract me from my past? Hunting.

“Hello?” my voice echoes through the ramshackle house. 

Silence. 

“Dean? Sam?” I ask again. 

This time there was a noise. Movement creaking the floorboards behind me snapped my gaze. I drew my machete. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I sing, a smile growing across my lips. Easy prey. 

The pale faced vampire hops out from behind a doorway, throwing me to the ground. Punches fly and hisses bounce off the dark walls of the house. My cheeks burn and my teeth vibrate with the continuous impact. I lift my leg, ramming my knee into his groin. 

Thank God vampires have the same physical weaknesses as humans. 

His eyes bulge as he falls over, cradling himself. I use the moment to swing my blade around and behead him. Like I said, easy prey.

“Sam! Dean!” I yell, jumping to my feet. 

My ears catch a shaking movement coming from one of the closed doors. I race, despite the fact that there might be more vampires lurking. Swinging open the door, I find the Winchester boys tied to chairs with their lips cradling bandanas, muffling their cries of help. 

I smirk, “See what happens when you don’t listen to me?” I coo, reminding them of my warnings to not go into a vampire nest with no backup. 

Sam rolls his eyes as I reach for his gag. “I would have been fine,” he whines. 

“Bull!” Dean spits, once I remove his gag, “It’s like you have never worked a case before.” 

“Jerk,” 

“Bitch,”

“God, you two are the worst,” I roll my eyes, finally cutting the ropes tying their hands. 

“Shut up,” the boys snipe at the same time. 

I smile, turning around, willing them to follow me out of the house. 

The night air hits my sweat soaked face. The feeling of a successful hunt provides an ounce of relief against the dread that has haunted my soul for years. I know the feeling will come back, but for now, I ignore it. 

As the painted yellow lines of the highway move past the back window of the Impala, I scour the internet, looking for cases we could stop for on our way back to South Dakota. There’s nothing in Wisconsin, Montana, or Nebraska. My stomach drops with every website that brings me nothing. I need another. 

Sam’s eyes land on my hunched state. “What did you find?” he asks, knowing exactly what I’m doing. 

I don’t take my eyes off the bright blue screen, “Not a damn thing,” I sigh, finally giving up and shutting my laptop. 

My face still pounds from the strikes the vampire landed on me, but I crave another. I need pain to distract me from the looming thought of Azazel’s laugh and the date that I see on the calendar. It’s the six year anniversary of the attack. 

Azazel is dead. We killed him five years ago in the graveyard in Wyoming, but his voice still haunts me. Taunting me. He needed me. Why?  

I shake my head to banish the thoughts, focusing on the swelling rising in my face. “Sky-” Sam starts, but I raise a hand. 

“Please don’t,” I beg. They know better than to pry, to dig, to empathize with me about my past and how I deal with my trauma. I mean, Dean went to Hell for God sakes, and he dealt with it the same way I am. 

A heavy sigh drops from Sam’s lips as he shares a know-it-all look with Dean. Mother Hens. 

The brothers drop me off at Bobby’s, after no other cases arise during our drive. I unlock the door and creak the door open. The sound hasn’t changed since the day I showed up, soaking wet and shivering. The memory swipes across my mind. I shake my head again. 

“Bobby?” I call out. No answer, but the sound of clinking bottles can be heard in the kitchen. 

I could use a drink. 

I drop my bags at the foot of the stairs and move to the kitchen, expecting to see the burly, foul-faced old man who has come to be my surrogate father. Instead, I see a baby-faced, confused angel sorting through rows of brown bottles. 

“Cas?” 

Castiel’s bright blue eyes rise to my matching ones. I’ve always thought it was weird, but wrote it off as a coincidence. “Skyla,” he states, his expression not changing. 

“What are you doing?” I ask, moving to the fridge for another brown, glass bottle, but this one is cold. Another distraction to the irreverent thoughts. 

“Getting a drink,” he deadpans, “That’s what we do, right?” 

I tilt my head at his question, “You… don’t drink.” I quirk an eyebrow at him. 

He sighs and places the bottles back on the counter, “No, I don’t.” He turns to me, eyes boring deep holes into mine. 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. 

“It’s the anniversary,” 

Shit. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I avert my eyes and move to Bobby’s desk in the middle of what I’ve continued to wish was a dining room. 

“Bobby says you need to,” he deadpans again. At least I don’t have to deal with his sympathy. 

“Bobby doesn’t know shit,” I snap, opening the book I’ve been reading about the apocalypse. 

Cas nods silently, contemplating my answer. Bobby does know shit, but I won’t admit it. I can’t take it, especially not today. I can feel the continued bore of Cas’ gaze. 

I slam the bottle on the desk, spraying foam over the scattered books and pages. “I’m going to bed,” I announce and quickly rise from the chair. 

“Sky-” Cas begins, but I interrupt his blanket, deadpan statement, “Goodnight, Cas,” 

My feet carry me as quickly as I can make them to the stairs and up to the bedroom. 

A few hours into my poor attempt to sleep, I hear the front door bang open. My body flies into action, grabbing the angel blade I keep stowed under my pillow and racing to the door. 

Memories flash in front of my eyes. The house vibrated. Crashing and the sound of breaking furniture was palpable from my upstairs room. Peeking my head out of the door. 

My stomach flips as I float to the bottom of the stairs to see the Winchester boys moving at lightning pace around the room, grabbing small bottles, boxes, and paint. 

Realizing it’s just them, I sigh, “Oh my god.”

“Skyla!” Dean’s booming voice darts across the room, then dissipates into ringing. 

“Skyla,” his face is wet with tears. Real terror coating his cheeks and face. I feel his hands take mine and shove the piece of paper between my fingers.

“-out before it's too late,” Dean’s voice comes back to my ears. 

“Too late,” a voice rumbles next to my body. 

My body reacts to the threat, throwing my arm out to hold the blade at the intruder’s throat. 

“Hello, darling,” a heavy Scottish accent drawls. 

“Who?” my question comes from my lips in a low, gravelly whisper. 

His neck stays still against my blade, but his brown eyes move to meet mine, “Crowley, King of Hell. Pleasure,” 

Information of the King of the Crossroads creeps into my brain, “Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” I sneer, pressing the blade harder to his jugular. 

I watch his hand slowly rise to the tip of the angel blade, “You are a lot more,” he clears his throat as he pushes the blade away, “testy than I anticipated.” 

My eyebrows furrowed. Than he anticipated?

“Crowley-” Sam growls from across the room. 

“Moose, Squirrel,” Crowley states, finally pushing the blade far enough so he can slip away. 

My mouth drops open, “You two know each other?” 

Dean’s eyes radiate with a fury that matches Sam’s. As the King of Hell strides closer, hands tense and ready themselves for an attack. “I’ve come to make a deal,” he states. 

“We don’t make deals with you,” Dean snaps. 

Crowley’s eyes flash with something resembling satisfaction, “You will,” he smiles, “This nasty business with Lucifer, which you so graciously let out of the cage, has put a damper on my agenda to take over Hell.” 

His movements resemble a serpent, eyeing its prey, figuring out how wide he needs to open his jaw to eat it whole. My stomach coils and my mind races to figure out what deal he could possibly want to strike with the boys. 

“And since you two,” he whips around to eyeing the Winchesters, my hand raises, “can’t seem to follow simple instructions, it looks like I must take matters into my own hands.” 

My body restricts and feels like it’s going to explode. My arms feel like concrete and my throat closes, air fighting to get out of my lungs. Crowley’s fingers twirl, sending invisible ropes across the room and seeping into my skin. “Now, I’ll be taking her, and you will be grateful that I don’t slaughter you both,” he coos, shifting his brown eyes to red. 

My eyes widened in fear. Yellow eyes. “Hand her over.” 

My eyes blur and my ears ring. No, not again. I fight against the magic seeping into my skin. My body spasms, heat radiates off my face and arms. A flash of confusion sparks in the demon’s eyes. 

“Why do you need Skyla?” Sam asks quickly, a slight sound of fear lacing his words. 

“Because she’s…” he head tilts, scanning my face, “an asset.” 

My voice is still stuck in my throat, fighting past the air that has solidified in my body. “An asset?” Dean asks. 

Crowley’s wicked smile creeps across his face, sending red tendrils of fear matching his eyes deeper into my body. He needs me. 

The flapping of wings rings through the room and a hint of relief rolls through my body. Castiel’s glowing white eyes appear in my line of vision, “Crowley,” 

“Bollocks.” Fingers snap, leaving my body reeling to the hardwood floor. The King of Hell is gone.

A fit of gasps and coughing pushes past my tongue. Numbness fills my body, leaving pins and needles stabbing my muscles. An asset. 

I look up, my eyes meeting Castiel’s. “What was that?” I rasp. 

No reaction, “We need to talk.”

[tragedyinblue]

4. Named

CW: "it" in reference to a person, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, fetal position, uncomfortable confinement, reference to past abuse, scars

“Now you listen to me!” Abigail yelled into the receiver. She rarely raised her voice nowadays, but was glad at least that her old vocal cords could handle the strain. “I don’t want one of your little Pets in my house snooping around and messing with my things!”

Lyle sighed, likely pinching his nose. “First of all, I didn’t send you one of my Pets. We ordered this directly from WRU. Secondly, it’s not there to snoop, it’s there to help you. If you don’t want it in your house then keep it in the shed in the back. No one’s used it in years.”

Sarah’s voice cut in before Abigail could give Lyle the tongue-lashing he deserved. “Look, Mom, can you just give it a chance? It’s trained to take care of you.”

“That skinny thing doesn’t look like he could even take care of himself. Why should I believe he can take care of me?” she snapped. “And I don’t need help!”

“Please just try it out for two weeks,” Sarah said tiredly. “That’s all I’m asking.” 

Abigail’s expression softened. The phone went quiet for long enough that Abigail felt a twinge of guilt through her rage. Sarah was only trying to help. She knew that. It still didn’t make her feel like swallowing this lemon.

Then Lyle, the boor, leaned in. “If you don’t like having it around after that, then just call and have them pick it up.”

The thought of those delivery men tramping through her home again brought the rage right back. “Absolutely not! Come here and take him away from me right now!”

Her earpiece crackled at the sound of the receiver hitting its cradle on the other end of the line. Abigail responded in kind, petulantly annoyed that Grisham wouldn’t hear it, too. She wanted to throttle that man with her wrinkled hands. Instead she took a few long, calming breaths before heading back into the parlor and carefully lifting the lid completely off. 

The young man inside—a Pet—was curled into a fetal position, a moving blanket his only padding. Having witnessed how roughly the delivery men handled the box, Abigail could only imagine how many bruises hid beneath the black shirt and drawstring pants he wore. Slowly he shifted into a kneeling position with his head bowed, blue eyes looking up at her through dark brown hair. 

“Hello. Are you this Pet’s new Mistress?”

Abigail blanched, letting out a startled laugh. “I certainly hope not!” 

The Pet cocked his head and blinked, confusion furrowing his brows.

‘Right,’ she thought. ‘He wouldn’t understand that as a joke.’

She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes, I suppose I am for now. My name is Abigail Cooper, but if you must call me anything then Miss Abigail or Miss Abbie is fine.”

“Of course, Miss Abbie,” he said, nodding. The slight dip of his chin drew her gaze to the thick band of scar tissue, roped and puckered like a burn, that circled his neck. Even so, he smiled sweetly and her heart bled at the sight. Damn it. They’d given her two weeks to decide whether or not to keep him; apparently two minutes was enough.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“It is known as Combination Domestic/Caregiver Model 049113-C47,” he recited without the slightest hesitation. “Any further names are a privilege granted by the master or mistress claiming ownership of the Pet in question.”

The clinical phrasing sent a chill through her bones. She’d seen other Pets and Pet owners, of course, aside from Lyle. Did they feel as unnerved as she did, or were they simply numb to the horror? 

‘Focus,’ she thought, catching the Pet’s gaze once more. ‘A name. This young man needs a name.’

Abigail had only two children, both daughters, so boy names had never been a concern. At one time, though, she’d had a list just in case. Groping through her memories was like wandering through dense fog at times, but blessedly her mind tripped on one. It might have been her favorite. 

“In that case, I’ll call you Chase. Is that alright?” 

The Pet brightened immediately, looking strangely like a puppy; if he’d possessed a tail it would’ve thumped against the box. “Yes, thank you, Miss Abbie!” 

“You’re welcome, Chase. Now let’s get you out of there.”

------------------------------- I binge-wrote this and the previous section in one sitting. No promises that I'll go this fast. Things are rosy with Miss Abby for now, but they won't be forever.

Previous Next

Taglist: @maracujatangerine

[niah17]

HenPat oneshot 😍

WATTPAD: NiahGrace17

This is from a fanfic I am currently making, this is from chapter 4. If you don’t understand a girl is blackmailing Henry into dating her but the consequence is that he’s not allowed to speak to Patrick.

Based off the song: 'Cardigan' by 'Taylor Swift'

TW: Abuse, Self-Harm

NO POV

If there's one thing Patrick can do. It's draw stars perfectly. He discovered this when one day on Avery's death anniversary and they went to visit his grave and Patrick got so unbelievably bored he drew stars on the bench which was next to the grave. His parents found out and yelled at him since it was in purple sharpie so it was permanent. He shrugged it off though.

But his favourite memory of drawing stars is when Henry came over one day with scars all over his arm from where his dad had dug his metal part of his belt into Henry. Henry had shown up at the house in tears so Patrick took him in.

1987

He remembers asking him what had happened but he couldn't remember exactly as they were thirteen years old when this happened.

'What'd you do now?' He had said.

Henry had only looked at him with pain in his eyes and sighed.

'I dropped a plate'.

Henry now refused to look at him straight in the eyes after he said that but Patrick got him to eventually. Henry sat down on the bed and watched as Patrick pulled out a red sharpie.

'What's that for?'. Henry asked. Patrick only smiled and clicked off the lid. They were now sitting next to each other.

'Give me your arm'. Patrick had demanded. Henry showed him his arm with slight hesitation but he managed.

'What's wrong? Is it infected?'. Henry questioned anxiously. Patrick shook his head.

He started to draw something around one of Henry's scars making him wince in slight pain.

'What the fuck are you doing?'. He spat.

'Shh..'

Present time

That was two years ago now. But currently, the boys had gone to school the next day without any worry. And luckily Grace didn't spill anything until she caught them during lunch.

"Hey boys", She waved walking back over to them. They all groaned.

"What", Belch said. Grace smiled softly and turned to Henry and Patrick.

"Could I have a word with you both. In private", She whispered.

"No. Bye now nice chatting", Patrick waved goodbye before Henry said.

"Fine. Belch and Vic, fuck off", Henry sighed.

Belch and Vic walked away talking about nonsense.

Grace smiled until they were out of sight then frowned at the two.

"Let's get this straight. You date me or I'll tell everyone about how you two are faggots and soon enough it'll get around to the whole school and they'll all tell their parents then instead of them being afraid of you they'll think your disgusting fairies and that's why they won't wanna go near you. Yes or No?", Grace stated. Patrick gritted his teeth and got ready to lunge at her but Henry stopped him.

"Ok so.. if I don't date you you're gonna tell pretty much the whole fucking town me and Patrick are faggots?", Henry went through.

"Yep! You have three days to answer before it spills", Grace nodded. The boys looked at each other and sighed. Henry's was a sigh of annoyance.

Patrick's was a sigh of anger.

He kicked her in the shin and told her to fuck off.

"That's reduced your limit to a day. Oh and you two won't be able to see each other", Grace winked then walked away slightly limping.

"Fucking hoebag that deserves to be eaten by hyenas then be puked up then I'll take her to my fridge and slam her head against it ten times and then I'll incinerate her then I'll cut her up and feed them to her parents", Patrick explained very descriptively.

"Yeah we could do that or decide what to do", Henry added. 

"Hmm.. let's go with my plan", Patrick smiled sadistically.

"No. Patrick, this is serious I cannot under any circumstances let my dad find out I'm a faggot", Henry whined.

"So we should just kill her! Or even better. Dismember her!", Patrick shrieked enthusiastically.

"Patrick, please for the love of god take this seriously. I'm in literal hell right now I don't know what to do", Henry told him. Patrick sighed and nodded.

"Look. Tell Butch about the situation and if he understands that it's blackmail then you won't die but if he doesn't he might give you a little beating but then you can just come to my house", Patrick rested his hand on top of Henry's. Henry rolled his eyes.

"It's not that simple but I'll try", He agreed.

Later that day, at 3:35pm Henry had walked inside his house and opened the door to find his dad sitting lazily on the couch.

"Dad.. can I talk to you about something?", Henry asked hesitantly. Butch groaned and nodded.

"Alright, 'urry up then", Butch waved his hand as a signal to Henry.

"So there's this girl named Grace. Grace Verona. She likes me a lot and she's got the idea me and Patrick are one of those disgusting faggots. So she's told us that she's gonna blackmail us by telling the whole school and town that we're gay which I understand would ruin your reputation. But in order to do that I won't be allowed to talk to Patrick anymore", Henry explained slowly afraid of what's about to happen. Butch grumbled and sat up straight.

"If I was you back in my day I'd leave my friends to get laid by some chick"

"Of course you would..", Henry told himself. Apparently, Butch had heard that.

"Fuck you say?!", He yelled. Henry froze. His face turned pale and he started to shake.

"Nothing", He said quickly.

"Lies!", Butch shouted. He slapped Henry across the face brutally making Henry tumble slightly.

"I'm sorry! I didn't say anything really!", Henry argued. Butch lowered his arm.

"Just get with the girl. I won't have you ruining my reputation and career just so you can hang out with Hockstetter", Butch snarled at his son.

"Dad. You don't understand. I need to find a way to get out of dating the girl!", Henry repeated.

"Henry. You are apart of the Bowers family. Woman over men any day. Are we clear?", Butch stared into the boys eyes fiercely.

"Yes", Henry mumbled.

"I said, are we clear?!", Butch yelled grabbing the collar of Henry's shirt.

"Yes!", Henry stated raising his voice.

Butch stared at Henry for a little while longer before he went back to drinking and watching tv. Henry had walked up to the bathroom silently then closed the door and locked it. He stepped over to the mirror and glared at himself.

He didn't like what he saw. He saw a useless boy that didn't know how to fight for himself. That's when he saw a shard of glass where his dad had broken a bottle the night before. He picked it up and glanced back and forth at it from his wrist to the glass.

Slice

Blood dripped from Henry's wrist.

"Fuck", He muttered. He had done stuff like this before when he was twelve because that's when he was missing his mother the most. Patrick had soon found out and he convinced him to stop.

1986

'Fuck'. Henry mumbled. He'd cut small bits of his leg where some bruises were laid caused by Butch. He never liked the look of them. It reminded him of how weak he seemed. That night had been one of the worst nights ever. It had been the anniversary of when Henry's mother had abandoned him and sadly, Butch Bowers had remembered that day like it was yesterday.

He grabbed the telephone and dialled Patrick's home number.

'Hi' Patrick spoke.

'Can I come over? Please?' Henry's voice pleaded.

'Oh how I love it when you beg' Patrick joked laughing in the background.

'Fuck off you lanky giraffe! I would never beg in front of you anyway', Henry scoffed.

'Alright. See you in twenty', Patrick hung up the phone as Henry snuck out the window.

Henry ran through the shortcut but his legs were stinging so bad he had to stop.

'Shit I did not think this through', Henry inhaled sharply and slowly walked.

Soon enough he got there and was mocked by Patrick as he said.

'I thought you won the Derry High run last year?', Patrick laughed. Then he saw the scars on Henry's legs. Henry was wearing jeans but they were ripped which was expected because he's always fighting with people.

'Oh. Come in', Patrick helped Henry upstairs and into his bedroom.

'Patrick, who's that?', Arthur Hockstetter asked.

'Henry', Patrick replied. Neither spoke a word after that. The only sound you could hear was the sound of 'Queen' playing downstairs caused by Patrick's parents who were drinking some wine and beer. Nothing that would get them drunk though.

"Promise me you won't do this ever again", Patrick said. Henry nodded.

"I'll try but don't blame me if I do it again", Henry sighed.

Present time

Henry thought about that moment often. Yet it brought back much pain from that day. But he didn't worry about that anymore, he's gotten used to it. Henry walked over to his bedroom cautious of not getting blood on the carpet floor then grabbed his house phone and dialled Patrick's number.

"Hi Henry", Patrick picked up the phone almost immediately.

"How'd you know it was me?", Henry questioned leaning against the wall.

"My dad's out and my mum has no friends. What's up?", Patrick explained.

"Can I come over?", Henry asked already knowing the answer.

"Henry you practically live here. Of course you can", Patrick laughed.

Henry smiled then hung up the phone and started climbing out the window. The cold air made his wrists sting badly but he didn't mind. He's far too used to it by now. He began to walk through the shortcut when he noticed seven losers sitting in a tree.

"Well what do we have here?", Henry cooed. They all looked at each other with worry glued onto their faces.

"What do you want?", Stan asked gaining slight confidence. That was pushed back down when Henry glared at him coldly.

"Well I was just minding my own business until I saw you seven brats out the corner of my eye", Henry grinned. Richie scoffed.

"We know your boyfriend's house is that way so just run along", Richie pointed to the direction of Patrick's house. Eddie then pushed Richie causing him to almost fall off the tree.

"You little faggots are lucky I can't be arsed to fight today", Henry said then walked off.

"What the fuck just happened", Beverly mumbled.

Knock Knock

"Hey Henry", Patrick opened the door. Henry stepped inside and already made his way upstairs without saying hi.

"Someone's in a grouchy mood", Patrick chuckled, locking the door. Patrick followed Henry into his room and then closed the door.

"I hate my dad!", Henry grunted flopping down onto the black bed. Patrick nodded.

"I know", Patrick said. Henry grabbed one of Patrick's pencils and threw it at a wall causing it to snap.

"Thanks. What happened anyway?", Patrick asked picking up the pen then grabbing some glue.

"I told my dad about Grace and he said I should just date her and ditch you but I don't want to ditch you or date her!", Henry complained. Patrick bit his lip then sighed.

"Ok, what'd he do after that?", Patrick slowly asked sitting down next to Henry.

"Slapped me hard across the face because I said no", Henry told him. Patrick mumbled something but it wasn't loud enough to make it into a clear sentence.

"Then what'd you do?", He asked again.

Henry hesitated but showed Patrick his wrist that was full of tiny cuts with one big one in the middle.

"Oh uh ok", Patrick nodded then got up to grab something.

"What is it?", Henry questioned rubbing his wrist making the pain go down a little. Patrick walked back over to him with a purple sharpie in his grip. He took Henry's arm and started drawing stats around the scars on his wrist.

"You haven't done this in a while", Henry said. Patrick rolled his eyes.

"Well you haven't cut in a while so guess we're even", Patrick scoffed. Henry nodded.

"Look, for your sake I think you should just let me go and date the girl", Patrick said still focused on the stars he was drawing.

"But I don't want to!", Henry protested. Patrick looked up at Henry.

"Henry. You have to. It doesn't matter about not wanting to", Patrick insisted.

After that, they sat there in silence, Patrick still drawing the stars. Henry knew Patrick was right but he didn't want to believe it. He knew their friendship wouldn't last forever but he didn't want it to end this soon.

"I guess you're right", Henry muttered. Patrick smiled.

"I'm always right", Patrick said.

"I'll miss you", Henry looked at Patrick.

"I'm not sure what missing someone feels like but I'll say I miss you for your sake"