#i got my hands on her newest book recently and god. GOD

[stil-lindigo]

emily carroll has once again permanently changed my brain chemistry

[anarchistauthor]

The Junk I Write

I'm an author who wears many hats, I'd say. I've got four books, two of which are very SPN-like, since they star a vampire who eventually works her way up to becoming the goddess of hell (it's complicated), one of which is a fairly conventional superhero story starring a bunch of queer communists, and a medieval fantasy book about people who turn into weapons and kill shit. And that's just my *finished* works.

In the drafts are sequels to all three of those series, a magic school thing I'm working out, a body-horror book about a girl turning into a monster like The Thing and using that power to murder the ones who did that to her, a spy thriller which (no joke) was inspired by Game of Thrones, something I call a "mecha western" which I think describes it better than I could put into words here, and more fanfiction than I know what to do with. And, like always, ideas keep coming to me. (I have ADHD)

So here's the thing: Basically anything I write is derivative in some way. Basically anything ANYONE writes is derivative in some way. If you read my books, and you've also enjoyed the same kinds of media that I have, it won't be hard to pick up their scent. Several major characters in my works got their start in trashy fanfiction which sits on my Google drive and only a handful of people get to actually read. That doesn't mean my novels are based on those fanfictions, and in fact, they have very little to do with the source material other than surface similarities. My novels are original, whether you believe it or not.

Take, for instance, the newest thing I've been writing, which I shall here codename "Greek Gods Thingy." GGT is not a book about actual Greek gods, but about a pantheon I made up based on some archetypes. There's a god of the sky, of the sea, of war, all that good stuff, but they're not the same as their equivalents in any particular real-world pantheon. And, no, this is not the part that's related to my fanfiction.

GGT's protagonist, a young lesbian called Ember, is chosen by one of the gods to do his bidding, and that's basically the plot, whatever. I actually tried to write this thing like a year ago, but I couldn't really pull it together. It felt off, I wasn't vibing with the characters, and in general I was doing kind of a crappy job, only ended up writing like 3500 words. And then, recently, I got the idea to cut and paste a character from one of my fanfictions onto Ember. I'm not gonna say what series it was a fanfic of, but it will be pretty obvious if you've seen the show and pay attention to Ember's mother in particular.

But here's the thing: The more I write it, the less copied it is. It's a completely different setting, different plot, different everything, just with the main character starting from a similar place in her life. I don't know if this applies to anyone else, but when I make an OC for a fanfic, I'm not doing it to self-insert or whatever, I'm crafting a person I love, who I love writing about. And then, what almost always happens is that I say, "Sucks that this character is stuck in a world I don't have ownership of," and then I end up making my own shit for them. That's basically what my medieval book was, too.

That doesn't mean the original work is a copy of the fanfic. If anything, it's freeing great characters, allowing them to spread their wings and prove their right to exist in something real. That's what Ember's done. And genuinely, I can't wait for this book (or any of the rest of them) to be out, so I can share my love for these babies with the world, and hopefully you all love them too. And, frankly...the idea of """real""" authors being judgmental of fanfiction is absurd to me. Fanfic makes writing better, it expands a person's voice and in many cases gets them into writing way before they have enough confidence to try publishing a novel.

Yes. Write that garbage fic of yours. Polish it, sweat over it, let it keep you up at night because you want it to be perfect. It might show you that you have it in you to write something your own. Or, maybe not. That's fine too. Either way, flexing your creativity is always a good thing.

Unless you're a nazi or some shit.

[stranger-marauders]

unbreakable

four: modern love

chapter summary: When someone forgets to pick her up from work, Kate makes other plans before she goes home for the night.

chapter warnings: language, steve being a bad friend

word count: 2.3k

series masterlist | masterlist

AFTER A FEW hours of talking, reading, and digging through the records at the bookstore, Kate and Jamie finally closed up for the night.

Work wasn't bad whenever Jamie was there, especially when everyone in Hawkins seemingly forgot that the little bookstore on Main Street existed. They got enough business from the occasional person that walked in to buy ten books that the constant flow of cash into the store wasn't an issue. It gave them an opportunity to ransack the place, letting them dig through even the records and cassettes they'd started selling more recently. Kate had loved that addition: it gave her a notice of when Queen was releasing a new single or album, and that was something she hadn't taken light of in years.

As they waited outside after they'd closed up shop, Kate shivered slightly. During their shift, the temperature had dropped a few degrees, the sun had set, and the wind had picked up, leading it to be considerably colder outside.

"You want me to take you home?" Jamie finally offered, putting his hands in his pockets. "I mean, I don't mind if Harrington's busy."

"N–No, don't worry about it. It's completely out of the way for you to take me home," she said. "I don't want you to have to do that because he forgot again. I'm... I'm sure he'll be here in a couple of minutes, anyway."

"I don't want you to walk home by yourself, though," he said, frowning slightly. "You'd get kidnapped or something."

"Oh yeah? Kidnapped?" she said, stifling a laugh. "I'm sure they'd get tired of me, too. Kick me out of the van before they could even get to Indianapolis."

Jamie chuckled. "In all seriousness, I don't mind. It's ridiculous he makes you wait out here."

Kate looked to Jamie, sighing as the cold nipped her face and hands. "It's okay, I'm fine. Seriously."

On nights like this, Kate would usually tell Jamie that Steve was just running late, then would walk home by herself. She didn't want to bother anyone, and there hadn't really been anyone else that could take her home, anyway. By now, her father was probably wasted on the couch, watching a Western or the newest episode of Magnum P.I., and Steve was probably trying to sneak into Nancy Wheeler's house, completely forgetting about her once again for the sake of a girl he would forget about next week.

That night, however, she thought it was past time for something different.

"Hey, Jamie!" she said as she watched him open his car door.

"Yeah?"

She hesitated. "You still up for that ride?"

He smiled. "Yeah, get in the car."

Before taking Kate home, Jamie took her through Burger Chef, and they'd both sat in his car, parked in one of the random lots on the way to her place. As they ate, Steve's words from earlier that day started ringing in her head. Maybe Jamie did kind of like her (only a little bit, though).

"You need to start coming in at five instead of six, because that first hour alone is killing me," Kate said. Whenever he laughed, she raised her voice. "I'm not kidding! Mr. Novak came in and talked my head off about World War II books for twenty minutes and it was horrendous."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, so please for the love of God, ask to come in earlier. I cannot handle shit like that without some backup."

Jamie stifled a laugh. "Yeah, if you could get all your athlete buddies to study more, maybe I wouldn't be stuck at school until five o'clock."

"They're not my friends, they just know me because of Steve," she said, shrugging slightly. "I couldn't do that, though. Be a tutor. It would physically pain me."

He shrugged. "Yeah, that's because you're naturally smart, Kate. Some of us other guys? We gotta study hard and hope for the best."

"I wouldn't say I'm naturally smart, I've just had lots of training."

"Stop being so modest. You're literally one of the smartest people I've ever met." He paused. "Even if you don't like when grouchy old men ask you about the World War II books."

When Kate laughed, shaking her head, he smiled. Kate thought about what Steve had said earlier again. She hadn't ever really thought about him that way, but he did make her laugh, smile. He was a good friend of hers, and he knew what she liked. She didn't think that meant that they had to date or anything, but she wouldn't have minded dating him. She tried to shake her thoughts, but she couldn't—chronic overthinker.

"Hey, Kate?" Jamie finally asked, trying to snag Kate's attention.

She turned to him, her expression soft. "Yeah?"

"Why don't we do stuff like this more often?"

"I don't know," she answered, fidgeting with the blue hair tie on her wrist. "I just don't want to waste your time."

"What are you talking about? You could never waste my time."

She laughed once hollowly. "Trust me, I can. That and your money."

"Oh, are you referring to this?" he asked, holding up the bag their food had been in. "Yeah, don't worry about it. My treat."

She sighed, taking the last French fry of hers. "Fine." After a moment or two, a wave of excitement quickly washed over her. "Oh my God, I almost forgot to ask. When's that shipment of Pet Sematary coming in? Do you know? Please tell me you know."

"Sunday morning," he replied. "Don't worry, I'll pull a copy for you."

She smiled excitedly, still not able to shake the feeling. "Dude, really? Thank... Thank you so much. I cannot tell you how much that means to me, I've been waiting for weeks."

"Yeah, I know." He paused, meeting her eyes for only a moment. "You know, this has been really great. Seriously."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Whenever he caught her eyes again, Jamie moved closer to her. He partially cupped her face with his hand, and she put her hand over his—it was almost like they both knew what was about to happen. Their lips got so close that they had almost kissed, but Kate pulled back at the last second. "I should probably be getting back."

Jamie pulled his head back, dropping his hand from her face. "What?"

"My dad, he's... he'll flip his shit. I–It's getting late, you know?"

Jamie looked at his watch, his eyes widening whenever he saw the time. "Oh shit, yeah, it is." He started the car engine up, the radio come on with it. "Y–Yeah, I'll take you home."

"Thanks."

As he gave a tight-lipped smile in return, Jamie wondered that if he were Steve Harrington, maybe Kate would've kissed him.

Jamie wasn't ignorant of everything he saw at school. While, sure, he was a year older than Steve and Kate in school, that didn't mean that Jamie didn't still hear about any time Steve Harrington quite possibly breathed in the direction of someone else, never mind when he walked around with Kate the way he did. He tried to act like he didn't care when Steve had his arm around her in the hallway, making her smile and laugh the way he did. Jamie, however, had to respect what Kate had told him since he had found out that she was best friends with him, and he would never feel any other way about that situation.

He didn't hate Steve, not in the slightest. He could only hope that Kate truly did like him as a friend and nothing more.

Kate gave Jamie a very short goodbye before jumping out of his car.

The girl's stomach churned at just the thought of walking through the front door of the trailer. She'd been dreading going home, especially because she was getting there so much later than she usually did, but quickly that fear morphed into something else—her father's SUV wasn't in the driveway. When she'd gotten inside after checking the mail and hadn't found her father attempting to drown himself in alcohol, watching the televisionuntil he inevitably fell asleep on the couch, she'd begun to worry for other reasons.

At first, she told herself he probably just got held up at the station. Maybe he was at the bar downtown, enjoying himself with... someone? Maybe he was hooking up with a younger woman again (Hopper loved to act like his daughter didn't know about those even though she most definitely knew), and this time he forgot to leave a note saying that he'd be back tomorrow. Whatever it was, Kate told herself it was probably nothing—her dad was gonna come home, no matter what, because somehow, he always did.

She sighed as she set her bag down, shuffling through the mail. Nothing of importance, thank God. She quickly retreated into her room, even though no one was home except for her. She needed to do something other than worry about her father's presumably unimportant mail.

After Sara died, Kate found she was nervous a lot of the time (in addition to feeling sad, lonely, empty, and all of the other feelings that went with experiencing grief), so she'd tried to find things that she'd enjoyed, made her feel less nervous. Of course, one of those things had been reading, which was why she had that enormous bookcase in her room that just about had books falling out of it now—and no, Kate was not going to get rid of any of her books, as she had explained to Steve and her father both at least hundred times.

As the night got later and later, her father was still not home, Kate decided to read, (after finishing her homework, of course). While no one was home to distract her, she'd decided to pull out her notebook from the bedframe, continuing to write just where she'd left off. She didn't like to work when her father was home, never mind when anyone else was at the trailer, partially because she didn't want to have to explain what she was doing to anyone.

Kate had always loved writing. Ever since her sister had died, it had been her escape. She hadn't been too good at anything else, and it was something that could just be for her. She hadn't ever thought about doing anything else for the rest of her life, really. The idea that always kept her going, something she always had looked forward to: college. Since she'd been thirteen, all she had wanted was to go to New York University. She hated telling people that she wanted to go for writing. It felt like such a waste. NYU, though, was nothing to scoff at. It was known for its creative writing programs, and that was something she certainly enjoyed. Besides, NYU was home.

Even though Diane had still lived in New York City, Kate supposed it was still a big enough city where she would never see her mother, even if she wanted to find her. She couldn't think of a single reason that would make her want to contact her mother ever again. She didn't want to see her ever again, and she wasn't ever planning on it.

At least, that's what she hoped.

At a quarter to eleven, Kate had finally decided enough was enough and called Flo, the station's secretary, tapping her foot as the line rang.

"Hawkins Police Department," she answered, her phone voice shining through.

"Hey, it's Kate," she said quickly, concern lacing her voice. "Have you, uh… Have you heard from my dad? He's never home later than this without a warning, or something."

Flo sighed—something was wrong, and Kate's heart rate immediately started to pick up. "Don't worry, he's all right. There's a… There's a missing boy. Joyce Byers's youngest? Your dad's leading a search party for him tonight."

Kate hesitated to go on. A missing boy in Hawkins? SHe hadn't ever heard of such a thing. While, sure, there had been that one family that got murdered in the '50s, not much else had ever happened in Hawkins, and that was the only reason Kate hadn't ever lost her mind living there. Hawkins was a sleepy town, and she was perfectly all right with that. "Search party?"

"I'll be sure to let him know you called, sweetheart."

"All right, thanks, Flo. Talk to you later."

Flo hung up the phone after a quick goodbye, presumably going on to another task that had something to do with the Byers boy. Now that Kate had the comfort of knowing that her father hadn't driven himself into a ditch, she should've been fine. However, the girl still couldn't go to sleep without knowing if he was okay or not. As she lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, she thought about the small town of Hawkins she had called home for the past four and a half years. Never once in her life had anything happened that significant in that town. Questions fired around her mind at a hundred miles an hour, questions about the boy, the town; it made her heartrate bounce through the roof. Nothing like this had ever happened in Hawkins. Ever.

She had no idea how much things were about to change.

next chapter

tag list:

@thatsonezesty13 @cece5

[meetmyblondemuffins]

Jealousy, Jealously

warnings: fighting

As Sirius pulled into his usual spot by Hagrid’s cabin. Once the motorcycle came to a stop Y/n hopped off the back. This has been their usual routine since way before they even started dating. Before they were together, which EVERYONE saw coming.

"Thanks for the ride. As always." Y/n thanked him as she gets off the back of his bike, handing him the helmet he designated as hers years ago.

"You know, you don't have to thank me every morning for giving you a ride. Your my girl, Y/m/n/n." Sirius gave Y/n a knowing look. Taking the helmet from her hands.

Y/n smiled leaning forward, to lean against Sirius's chest., "I can still be grateful."

Sirius shook his head letting out a quick laugh. "You'll be the death of me. I swear."

The time they wasted before school started was just filled with laughs, jokes, and the occasional kiss. Even though the kisses were a little more PG, but possessive on Sirius's part.

"Who is that?" Brett a new guy to the school who recently moved from California asked the guys around him.

"No, dude. She's Black's girl." Peter waved his hands in the air trying to call off the guys thoughts.

"Yeah, don't go near her." James agreed, trying to deter the new guy from a path that he does not want to go down.

"Why not?" Brett asked still watching Y/n giggle and lean into Sirius from across the parking lot.

"Sirius Black has a bad temper. And a habit of getting into fights." Remus stated to the new guy hoping it was enough for Brett to drop it.

James nodded in agreement. "She makes him calm, so to speak."

"They've been together for years. Trust us, don't go near her with intentions of tearing them apart." Fabian stated along with the others.

But of course, Brett's attention seemed to never waver from the oldest Black and Y/n. His mind was made up. Y/n was gonna be his by the end of the day, he'll make her see he's better then Sirius.

"I have practice. You staying to watch?" Sirius asked as he walked up next to Y/n, leaning against the wall next to her.

"I already planned on staying, Sirius." Y/n smiled at him, putting the books away in her dorm after a long day of schoolwork.

"Good" Sirius smirked wrapping his arm around her shoulders all the while taking her backpack from her.

Once they got to the quidditch pitch Sirius helped Y/n set up where she was gonna be sitting and waiting for the practice to end. He set down her bag. After making sure Y/n was situated he left to go to the locker room to change with the rest of the guys, while Y/n got started on homework. By the time all the guys came out dressed and ready for practice Y/n had already finished her homework. So, she decided to start drawing in her notebook. That is till someone decided to walk over to her and judging by their stature it wasn't her boyfriend.

"What a beautiful girl like you doing here?" Brett asked once he stood infront of Y/n. It was obvious whoever this guy was to Y/n he had to be new or stupid. Especially if he dared to flirt with her. New or stupid.

"I go to school here." Y/n replaied taking a swift glance up at him. Before continuing with her doodle.

"Cute. But what I meant was, why are you watching practice? Like seeing all the shirtless guys?" Brett let out a laugh as if she couldn't tell what he was really doing. With what he asked it was obvious to her he thinks he's God's gift to the world, and that she must have been watching him.

"There's only one shirtless guy I'm here for and I happen to be dating him." Y/n looked at the new guy and stared at him directly in the eyes. She stated her words hoping he'd get that he's not wanted and that she's taken.

"Hey, who the hell is that?" Sirius asked the guys, nodding in the direction of some guy talking to his Y/n.

"We warned him, Sirius. We swear." Fabian stated, being the first to answer a close to turning red Sirius Black.

Then James jumped in as well. "We told him that she was taken and she's your girl."

"Who is he?" Sirius asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"New guy, Brett. He's on the team or at least the madam hooch is giving him a chance. He was asking about Y/n earlier when you both pulled into the parking lot. We told him she was taken, by you and that he shouldn't mess with you but..." Gideon explained.

"Apparently he doesn't listen." Sirius stated before walking over to where his girl is and to where the school's newest idiot is currently standing.

"That can always change." Brett smirked and wiggled his eyebrows towards Y/n, who if anyone looked could tell she felt uncomfortable.

"I don't want it to." Y/n stated with a fire in her eyes. She wouldn't trade Sirius for anything.

"Are you sure he feels the same on that?" Brett leaned down to be closer the Y/h/c-ed girl. Who in his mind was just being stubborn.

Y/n was ready to rip this guys head off. But right when she was about to get up and do some damage she saw her boyfriend approaching. "I'm pretty sure he does." Y/n smiled.

"What makes you think that?" Brett asked pretending to be curious but it was obvious he was gonna try and twist what she says.

"She thinks that because I tell her all the time." Sirius spoke with a tone that could scare the bravest of men. Once Brett turned around Sirius decked him.

"He does." Y/n raised even though she knew Brett's attention wasn't on her anymore. She watched the fight, making sure it didn't get too out of hand.

"You were warned" Sirius stated lowly in the guy's ear. He knows he could hear him even if he might have a slight concussion.

"Yeah, I was. But I heard you're childhood sweethearts, that's a long time. I'm just showing her that her options are open." Brett spit out some blood getting up from the ground. Still taunting Sirius after getting beat up for a solid five minutes. Yup, he's an idiot.

"I don't want any other options." Y/n spoke making sure all her words came out clear as day. To get it through his obviously thick skull. She even went as far as to lean down a little so he could also read her lips.

Sirius smirked at the idiot that kept losing his balance. "Now, I suggest you leave my girl alone and do not try this again."

"Y-yeah." Brett stuttered.

Once Brett scurried away Sirius turned to face Y/n and was silently checking her over with his eyes and hands checking her over to make sure she was ok. "You ok?"

Y/n nodded doing the same thing, checking him over. "Yeah, I'm ok. Are you?"

"I'm fine." Sirius waved her off.

"Sirius..." Y/n whined his name out knowing how he likes to hide the fact he's hurt when he is.

"Your ok, I didn't end up beating him into a pulp. So yeah I'm ok. I promise, Y/n" Sirius looked her in the eyes adoring how much she cares about his wellbeing.

"You know I don't want anyone else but you, right?" Y/n asked him cupping his cheek and neck looking at him with the same look in her eyes.

Sirius reassuring her. Lightly pulling her closer into his embrace. "I know. You know I don't want anyone else but you too, right?"

"I know." Y/n nodded moving into his awaiting arms.

"Good" he mumbled into the top of her head.

"Good. What do you say we head back?" she asked looking up at her giving her a kiss to her cheek and going to change since practice had ended due to the fight. So, they can back to their dorm and just have some alone time together.

taglist

@meetmyblondemuffins @siriusblackswife24 @drownie @f0lkl0verm0re @siriusblackwh0re @gr4cein9h4m @lostredheadinablondeworld

[quietmyfearswith]

suitkovia ; baron zemo x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

warnings — SMUT SO MINORS GO AWAY, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), cursing, cheek and clit slapping, groping(ish)

word count — 3,457 words

pairing — fashion designer!helmut zemo x model!reader

a/n —zemo is such a fucking hot daddy and daniel bruhl is just as hot — and what was i gonna do?? not write about it??? psh no way! also blame the suitkovia video because he was so fucking hot andgoofy there.. enjoy this self-indulgent fic! also idk if you can be a baron and a fashion designer but let’s pretend that that’s possible okay? feedback is appreciated and hope u guys have a lovely day !! :> 

also the ones in italics are in sokovian, i just didnt want to translate it into something lmao

tagging @art-estrange

masterlist 

“Sir, your newest model has arrived,” Oeznik informed with a smile; and just as he announced it, the mentioned woman walked in and into the line of sight of the famous Sokovian designer.

Putting down the now empty glass of whiskey he earlier downed, he stood up and approached her, “Hello Y/N,” He huskily greeted her as his hands gently landed on her arms which allowed him to lean over and plant tender kisses on both her cheeks, “I am eternally grateful for your endorsement and modelling of our line of clothes.”

The kiss caught her off guard — but in a pleasant way — and she could only smile coyly, “If anything it is my pleasure to be able to wear your masterpiece of garments, Baron; I’m honoured that you thought of me.”

Releasing his grip from her he then held out a hand for her to take, once she did she was being led in front of the racks of clothes that were lined up — waiting for her to be worn. “Did you want a drink? Perhaps a Turkish delight?”

Eyeing the coffee table where a small platter of sweets and food lay along with some refreshments, she shook her head no and politely declined. “You can leave us now, Oeznik. And we are not to be disturbed, yes?”

“Of course, Sir.”

When the two men spoke in Sokovian, it made her quite uneasy but when she watched the designer run his hands along the fabric of the gowns that were hung, she thought that he was talking about one of the dresses. The wooden doors noisily shut behind her as the assistant left the two of the alone in the room.

“Thank you, again, for coming in here a day earlier than the arranged photoshoot,” He grabbed a gown off the rack and carefully carried it in front of her. “Of course, I understand that it was necessary to ensure that the clothes would fit me well.”

Nodding, he then handed her the silk tulle gown with a smile, “May you try this on first?” Taking the soft gown from him she silently complied and headed to the dressing room he pointed at.

While waiting for her to get changed, he sat down and poured himself another glass of whiskey. Perhaps it was due to her training or attributable to her various ramp model gigs, she quickly changed into the gown; there was one setback however, there was a zipper on the back that was too far for her to reach.

Walking out of the dressing room, she cleared her throat — effectively catching the attention of the Sokovian designer, “Baron? I need some help with the zipper.” She turned around and his breath was hitched in his throat as he saw how beautiful she looked.

“Of course I can help, darling,” He snapped out of his adoring gaze and stood up quickly to zip up the dress. Feeling the pad of his fingers along her skin resulted in both of them feeling a rush of electricity run through. “All done, love.”

It was comical how the fabric whirled around in slow motion as she twirled around to face him; he took a few steps back to admire her fully, “You look exactly like the goddess Persephone, darling.”

Walking in front of the the full length mirror that was placed in the far back part of the room, she observed herself in the eloquently-designed gown and smiled, “The gown looks like something straight out of a fairytale; and it fits me well,” She faced him as she remembered the last part of his statement, “Persephone? Is that your inspiration for this new line?”

Finishing off the remaining liquor he had poured out before nodding and explaining, “The recent books that I’ve been reading are about the Greek gods and goddesses.” He then stood behind her and gently touched her waist, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke, “And Persephone stood out to me the most.”

“Not Aphrodite? Is she not the most beautiful goddess in Mount Olympus?”

“Touche,” He smirked and removed his hands from her sides and went back to the racks and fetched the blue, floral gown that was the first design he made for his most current collection, “But the Olympian beauty wasn’t my focus on all, for I was far too intrigued with Persephone.”

A pout formed her lips as she was confused with his reasoning, “Change into this one first then I can answer the questions you have,” He assured her as if he could read her mind.

Thankfully the second gown that was handed for her to try on was easier for her to zip up; but at the same time she was dismayed at the realization that she wouldn’t be able to feel his hot touch on her skin. Upon stepping out of the velvet dressing room, she announced, “I think this is my favorite gown by far. This really makes me feel like a goddess.”

“To be fair, princess, with or without the clothes you would be crowned a goddess.”

The blunt comment had her biting her lip as she felt undeserving of his praise; standing next to him in front of the mirror, she shook her head and replied, “Well I’m not Greek so your argument is invalid, Baron.”

Once again, his hands roamed around her body — but this time his hands settled on her bare shoulders, “Not all goddesses are Greek; there are Nordic, Celtic, Indian — to name a few.” Looking to her right, where he had rested his chin while his hooded eyes took in every inch of her, she gulped down, “Cultured and intelligent all on top of having a great eye and sense of fashion — is there something you’re lacking?”

“Just my Persephone,” He muttered after placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. That piqued her interest, she created some distance between the two of them but she laced her hands with his as she smirked, “You think of yourself as Hades?”

“In a way, I do,” He disconnected himself from her and was skimming through the different dresses he had planned for here to wear, “Are you the king of the underworld?” From her tone it was obvious that she was slightly teasing him, but he decided to give her a serious answer either way.

“Despite how magnificent that would be, I am not,” His eyebrows lifted up in excitement as he picked one of the next gowns that Y/N would try on, “But I do admire his passion; he and I share that same thing, you know?”

Handing it over to her, she got the signal that it was her next frock she was to try on; silently, she nodded and took the dress and headed to the dressing room. As she slid on the crepe gown, she then nodded to herself and smiled.

A low whistle was heard when she stepped out in front of the mirror, with a smile Zemo’s fingers danced around her neck as he fastened the cape in its place, “Now you look like something carved out of marble.”

Trailing down from her neck, his hands settled themselves on top of her breasts, “Is the neckline too much?” Her chest heaved up in anticipation as she shook her head no, “I don’t think it is, Baron.”

Smiling, he nodded and placed a kiss on the intersection of her neck and shoulders, “I’m delighted you feel so, darling. I feel like you have questions regarding my earlier statement.” Her small nod encouraged the designer to explain further, “Hades is often dismissed for he is the king of the dead. But, if anything, I think it is his passion for Persephone that he should be known for.”

“Oh?” Was the only word that escaped her with a shaky breath; a simple kiss in her skin had reduced her brain into a puddle, but the simple word spurred him to continue, “After finding the woman of his dreams, he did everything in his power to keep her in his arms.” His hands then slid down from her breasts and to her waist, pushing her body closer to his. Taking in her heavenly scent, he smiled upon feeling goosebumps against the skin of her shoulder where his lips were.

“Have you found your Persephone then?”

“I have now,” He gruffly spun her around and latched his lips on hers; she quickly welcomed his soft lips as she opened her mouth and moaned out as  his hands nestled themselves on her ass, occasionally squeezing her cheeks. Her hands ran along his bearded cheeks and pushed him closer to her.

She whimpered when he tore off the cloak hastily and sucked on her neck, “You’re so fucking beautiful, darling.” As soon as he unzipped her dress she automatically shrugged it off her shoulders, exposing how she didn’t wear any kind of underwear underneath it. Amused, Zemo smirked as he ran his hand along her stomach, “Do you always go about without any kind of underwear?”

“No, not really,” She denied, “It’s easier to slip in between dresses without underwear holding me back.” Holding onto her waist he then carried her to lay on her back on the velvet couch, “Well that just makes it easier for me to please my goddess.”

He dipped down and licked her clit with his thick, wide tongue; and with just one lick of his tongue she was placing her legs on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. “Fuck, more please,” Hearing her moan out for her, egged him to shove his tongue in her tight canal as he swirled around and tasted her sweet juices.

“What got you this wet, my little goddess?” It was a rhetorical question — which was a good thing for she was so deep in pleasure that she couldn’t process anything in her pleasure-riddled brain. His thumb rubbed her clit vigorously while his other hand inched upward and grabbed onto her nipple, twisting and pulling on it.

“Were you this eager to be fucked, darling?” The vibrations of the filthy words had her locking her legs behind his neck,  further nudging his tongue deeper into her pussy. A loud whine erupted from her mouth when he pulled his face away, “Does that disappoint you, love?”

“Please, Baron. I need you,” She moaned out, her eyes blinking as tears of pleasure threatened to spill out. Wordlessly, he slid two of his fingers in her pussy and lowered his mouth so he could lick her clit. He didn’t break eye contact with her as she watched him lap her juices while his fingers were being squeezed by her damp walls.

“Is this what you needed, darling? Wanted my fingers?” She nodded as tangled her hand into his har, “Fuck! How am I going to fit my cock when you are already struggling to take my fingers.”

Her chest was heaving up and down in pleasure as she thrashed around, “Want you, want you so bad.” Her declaration had his chest rumbling with pride as he pulled his fingers away and kissed her hardened nub one last time.

“Is that so? Can you take all of me inside you then?” He lifted his face right in front of hers, she moved to slant their lips together. Dribbling down from his mouth to hers, she got a faint taste of her juices; and in the model’s opinion, it tasted better when it was mixed with his saliva.

“Want to please you first baron,” She clawed at the ends of his sweater, hands loving the feel of his warm back, “Can I taste you first?” The way she pleaded for him had him smirking at the realization that she was just as desperate for him as he was for her. Giving his consent silently, he helped lift off the cashmere sweater he was wearing and toss it on the foot. Switching both their sides so he lay under her posed as a challenge for her kisses went south — from peppering kisses on his beard, she lowered them until her cold mouth met the wide expanse of his chest.

“You really have a way,” He paused his train of thought as her lips gave his nipple a gentle tug; his eyes darkened with desire as he watched her give the opposite nipple the same treatment before kissing her way down his stomach, “With that precious tongue of yours, darling.”

The way her eyes peered up at him innocently contradicted the way her hands expertly unbuckled his pants; and once his pants, along with his underwear, was being moved off of him she licked her lips in anticipation. One hand stroked the entirety of his length while the other rested on his thigh, anchoring herself.

As if to test the waters, she placed kitten licks on the tip of his cock, “Fucking hell, darling,” The designer moaned out once she lowered herself and allowed her mouth to enclose around half of his cock. The way his cock poked around the inside of her mouth was a delightful intrusion for her; soon enough the tip of his cock was poking the back of her throat.

His short nails were digging themselves against her hair as his chest rumbled in pleasure, “You got me so close, love. Want to have a taste of Sokovia?” The chuckle he let out quickly died down when she fondled his balls with one hand as she shook her head a bit as she deepthroated him long enough until she gagged a bit.

It wasn’t long before he spilled all over her mouth,  “Fuck, darling,” He moaned out as she milked him. Easing his grip on her head, he smiled upon seeing her lick her lips and open her mouth — showing him how he swallowed every single drop of his cum.

“You taste delicious, Baron,” She said with a smile as she rose up from where she was kneeling and moved to sit on his lap, “Can I please ride you?” Her meek petition had him even harder. Wordlessly, he snaked an arm in his cock, tapping it against her pussy before sliding it in her; in one motion he was already halfway inside her.

“Already so wet for me, darling,” Helmut moaned out when he lifted her by the asscheeks, leaving only his tip inside her; her nails were leaving marks on his shoulders as she mewled out, “Please fuck me, Baron.” Just as she spoke the final syllable, he then rammed his cock all the  way in her, causing her to lurch forward, pressing her chest against his. It gave him leverage to fuck her fiercely yet slowly, as if savoring every moment inside her.

With her mouth pressed against his ear, she was moaning out loud for him which sounded like music to the designer’s ears; whereas his mouth was focused on leaving marks of his desire on her shoulder. “Been wanting you for a while, love,” The Baron rasped out as his thrusts sped up when he felt her walls squeezing onto his thickness even more, “Saw you walk down the ramp at Milan and I just knew,” He groaned mid sentence when she moved away from him and leaned down to kiss him tenderly — a juxtaposition from where his cock was now mercilessly and swiftly entering her tight canal, “Just knew I had to have you.”

The declaration of his admiration had her feeling oddly more confident in herself, “Am I like everything you ever wanted, Baron?” He rapidly nodded before moving his head away to get a good look of her — she was biting her lip, yet it couldn’t contain her delicious whimpers from reaching his ears, whereas with every bounce she made resulted in her breasts hypnotizingly moving along. Enclosing a nipple in his mouth, he pulled on it hard enough for her to rake her hands in his hair and shove him harder against her hardened nub.

“I’m so close, Baron,” She moaned out at the absence of his mouth, but was quickly satisfied when he took on the other nipple. Even without her verbal forewarning, he would have known that with the way it was getting more difficult for his cock to slide in and out of her clenched, wet walls. “Are you gonna claim my cock as yours, darling?”

Feeling the presence of his cock surpass her sweet spot and hit her cervix was too much for her as she weakly nodded, “Want you so bad,” She moaned out as she was starting to feel overwhelmed. The designer could feel his own cock pulse upon seeing her current state; he unwillingly removed his mouth from her now swollen nipples — much to both of their dismay — yet he tried to make up for it by lowering a hand to the front of her pussy, alternating between rubbing and pinching her clit. “I want you to cum for me, love,” He rasped out as his other hand was on her cheek, urging him to focus on him. “Your juices should be running down on my cock, okay?”

Slightly turning her head, she sucked on his thumb as she continued to rock herself harder on his cock — the thought of an impending orgasm sounding wonderful. A gasp escaped her lips when the Baron slapped both her cheek and clit when he did not receive affirmation from her, “I need your answer, darling, will you cum for me like the good girl I know you can be?”

Whether it was her desire to be his or the fact that she just didn’t want that added stimulation, she nodded her head vigorously as she indistinctly muttered, “Gonna cum for you, Baron. Want your cock all for myself.”

Pleased with her response, he then drove his cock in her deeper and harder while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her lips were quivering right under his thumb was tucked in safely. With one particular harsh thrust, she came and bit on his thumb too hard; despite feeling a sharp pain, Zemo smirked and continued to ram his cock in and out of her as he too was on the brink of another orgasm.

As she was placing kitten lick on his thumb as an attempt to calm herself down, she allowed him to take control; it was incredible how much strength he had because with one hand latched on her hips, he was matching the way her body rose and fall matched the pace in which he was fucking her. “I’m never gonna let you go now, darling. You’re all mine now.”

Delighted with that, she removed his thumb in her mouth and looked at him — fondness and lust portrayed through her eyes — and said, “Cum in me, Baron.” As if her words set off a trigger, he came load after load of his cum, painting her walls as his. Panting heavily as he pressed his forehead against hers, taking in the glow that encompassed her entire body.

Lovingly stroking both her cheeks they both smiled at each other; she spoke up first, “I hope you don’t always sleep with your models.” Despite the overwhelming pleasure she had just experienced, she couldn't prevent her from feeling insecure about the repercussions of their little rendezvous. The hairs at the nape of his neck was something she distracted herself with since she was too nervous for his response; tilting her head to get her to meet him eye to eye so he could reassure her, “No, my love, I don’t make it a habit to go and sleep around. Truth be told, from now on I only plan on sleeping with you.”

His line had her chuckling and lightly shoving his shoulder, still in disbelief with the words that left his mouth. “You’re my Persephone, the one I have been searching for; and I have no plans of letting you go,” He spoke and looked at her wholeheartedly and genuinely, hoping that he would solidify his claim and hopefully get her to believe him.

As her lip quivered and eyes watered, she hugged him close and showered every inch of skin of his that she could reach with kisses, “You don’t know how much that means to me, Baron. I, too, would not do the foolish thing of letting you go, ever.”

It was only then that the designer knew what true happiness was as he rubbed her back gently, pushing her body even more closer to him, “You’re with me now, darling, for life. I’ll treat you like the goddess that you are.”

[darthfrodophantom]

Ectoberhaunt Day 5: Ouija Board

Summary: To get into the spooky season spirit, Tucker and Sam convince Danny to play a video game late at night, and Danny isn’t pleased about the subject of the video game.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34303123 

Too Close to Home

“Let me get this straight,” Danny interrupted. “I fight ghosts - real ghosts - on a nightly basis. And now that I actually have a free night you want to take up the time that I should be sleeping to fight fake ghosts?”

He shook his head as he looked at his computer screen, the only light in his entire bedroom aside from the digital clock that showed the hour: 11:45. From the first-person view of the computer game on his screen, he watched the avatars of both of his friends attempt to throw basketballs into a hoop.

“But this is way more fun,” Tucker’s voice said over Danny’s headset. “And it hurts a lot less! Ah! Dang it Sam - you messed up my throw!”

Sam cackled triumphantly. “Better pay more attention to your timing then.”

Tucker groaned as his avatar abandoned the basketball for spray paint cans, which he chucked at Sam. “Besides Danny, we’re not fighting ghosts: we’re hunting them.”

“Fine, fight, hunt, whatever. I still do both of them,” Danny argued.

“Not like this you don’t,” Tucker grinned. “God he’s gonna get creamed.”

“You know Danny, maybe we should let you go to bed. You’re gonna ruin my perfect streak,” Sam teased.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you’ll actually do better because you have a true ghost hunting professional on the team,” he defended. He had no idea why he was bragging - he’d just been given an out and given the late hour he should take it, but now it felt like he needed to defend his pride as a ghost hunter. …That thought sounded a little too similar to something his parents would say and he quickly dismissed it. “Besides, I played the tutorial, I know what I’m doing. I’m just trying to figure out why we’re doing this.”

“Because it’s spooky season,” Tucker replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“We are only five days into October, Tucker, and if you’re gonna keep doing this all month I am going to hit you with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick,” Sam threatened.

“I dunno, it might be worth it,” Tucker teased. “What do you think Danny?”

Danny shook his head, even though none of them could see it. “As the only person in this group who has actually been hit by the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, I would back off,” he advised.

“Listen to Danny Tucker,” Sam chuckled as her avatar walked over to the white board to set up the hunt. “He’s actually speaking wisdom for once. Now come over here and pick out your gear.”

The playful teasing between best friends stopped as they actually got serious and picked out the gear they would need for their mission. Since Danny had no money, he couldn’t really participate in the conversation, but it seemed like Tucker and Sam had played this enough to know what they needed to bring. Sam started the mission, and their avatars found themselves inside the trailer looking at another whiteboard.

“Alright, looks like our ghost is named Thomas Clark and he responds to all of us,” Sam informed the group while Tucker’s avatar walked over to the shelves to equip supplies.

“Well that’s a dumb name for a ghost,” Danny complained as he looked at the bulletin board next to the computer. He had to squint at his screen to read them, but the articles were fairly legible and contained ghost stories he remembered hearing his parents talk about. It also had a recent article that he actually remembered running in USA Today proclaiming Amity Park as the most haunted city in the world - he didn’t know whether to feel proud or annoyed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam agreed, though her voice was laced with sarcasm. “He should have gone with Thomas Phantom instead.”

Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, now that sounds like a proper ghost,” Tucker added between laughs.

“I knew I was going to hate this,” Danny groaned under his breath. “Can we just get this over with?”

Sam’s avatar turned to face the new whiteboard. “Alright, fine. Objective one: find out what kind of ghost we’re dealing with - standard. Objective two: witness a ghost event.”

“I am a ghost event,” Danny smirked, causing Tucker to burst out laughing again.

“Objective three,” Sam snapped, “capture a photo of the ghost.”

Tucker’s avatar grabbed a camera and snapped a picture of Danny’s avatar. “Got one!” he proclaimed, which drove both boys into laughter.

“Objective four,” Sam said louder, “get a ghost to walk through salt.”

“What? That’s dumb. Everyone knows that’s an old wive’s tale,” Danny complained as he shook his head. Did the creators of this game actually do any real research before they made this game?

“Are you regretting this yet Sam?” Tucker asked as he finally stopped laughing.

“Let’s just get in the house,” she groaned. Danny smirked in triumph, and he could tell Tucker was sharing a similar smirk on his end.

They divided up equipment between the three of them, but not before Danny could comment on the inaccuracies of each of the pieces of equipment and how useless they’d be in an actual ghost fight. From faulty science to just being plain incorrect, Danny made sure to have pithy comments about all the equipment. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that it had to be accurate - he was not his parents - but as a ghost and a ghost hunter, it just felt a little more personal than he wanted to admit.

Because he was the newest one, Danny got stuck with the Spirit Book (“What? Are they trying to imply all ghosts can’t write? That’s alivist!”) and the EMF Reader (“...Okay that one’s actually accurate”) because they were apparently the easiest to use. Laden down with their gear they walked up to the small house. Sam’s avatar unlocked the door and they headed inside. Danny noticed the tonal shift immediately. Outside he could hear wind and crickets chirping, but once he stepped inside the doorway, an oppressive silence covered his headphones. It reminded him of the sensation on a pressurised airplane and it unnerved and unsettled him...a lot more than he planned to admit to his friends.

“Alright, spread out,” Sam instructed. “See if you can find the ghost room.”

Ghost room, right. He remembered that from the tutorial. It had been the garage in the tutorial, so he figured he should start there. He walked back through the dark house, turning lights on as he went. It wasn’t because he was scared - absolutely not, he was a real ghost hunter! - it was just much easier to see. He pulled out the EMF reader and walked into the garage. It had an eerie quality to it, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he remembered seeing the ghost there last time (a mean looking (and inaccurate) ghost covered in blood and holding an axe) or if it was because he was alone and the room was so large, but he did not like being in here.

“You know, in the tutorial, the ghost was a bloody axe-man,” Danny remarked over the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, I think he’s standard in the tutorial,” Sam remarked offhand. He did not want to admit how good it felt to hear her voice in the oppressive silence of the house. They were clearly focused on their tasks, and that was a good thing, but it felt a lot better hearing their voices.

“Red blood,” he continued, simply to trigger more conversation. He didn’t get any EMF readings, so he gratefully left the garage. “Not ectoplasm. It’s like they didn’t even try.”

“Ugh, Danny, they’re going for a horror aesthetic, not something real,” Sam sighed.

“What? Ectoplasm-stains are horrifying,” he countered as he walked through the rest of the first story. Still no EMF readings.

“Only when it’s yours,” Sam said, and the weight of those words echoed in the silence of the house that made him stop moving for a moment. “No cold spots upstairs,” Sam informed them to break the silence.

“Yeah, no EMF downstairs,” Danny added. “I’m gonna check out the basement.” That’s where they loved to hang out in the real world, so it seemed the next best choice.

“Oh hang on, if you’re going down there I’ll go with you,” Tucker spoke up.

Danny stopped halfway down the stairs. “It’s fine, I’m pretty used to basements,” he joked weaky.

“Yeah, well the last time you went into a basement alone with untested ghost equipment you died.” Tucker said it light-heartedly as a joke, and it was one they’d said a bunch of times before, but somehow it just didn’t feel the same in this tense environment. It felt too...personal.

He waited for Tucker’s avatar to appear before they walked down the stairs together into the basement. Unlike Sam’s basement or his own, this basement had a much creepier feel to it, with the foreboding worn brick walls and discolored cement flooring. Honestly he was glad Tucker went down there with him because it just felt better having another person there.

“Sam, maybe you should get down here with the thermometer,” Tucker mentioned as they both walked through the basement. “Because we’re not--”

Danny whirled around as he heard something thud hard against the ground behind him while he jumped in his chair. The EMF reader in his hand jumped up to three dots and blared at them while he stared at a box of tools now on the ground. The ghost was clearly in the room. Danny half-expected his ghost sense to go off, but he had to remind himself it was just a video game. There wasn’t actually a ghost here.

“What happened?” Sam’s urgent voice said over the walkies.

“Ghost knocked something off the shelf down here,” Tucker said as his avatar walked over to the toolbox. “Ooh! We’ve got fingerprints!” he cheered as his avatar shined a light on a glowing handprint.

“Oh that’s so not how that works,” Danny complained, just to help lighten the mood. Honestly he felt a bit jumpy knowing that the ghost was in the room...and he couldn’t sense him. He’d dealt with invisible ghosts before, but his ghost sense always gave him a vague idea of where they were...except for now. He turned in his chair to check the room behind him. No ghosts, no ghost sense. It’s just in the computer game.

“Figures that the ghost would be in the basement,” Sam remarked as her avatar walked down the stairs and opened her journal. Right! Journal. Danny opened his and placed their one piece of evidence inside. The sooner they got all of those the sooner they could leave, and he really liked that idea.

“I’m not seeing freezing temperatures, but it is a little cooler than the rest of the house,” she continued. “So let’s start setting stuff up in here. Tucker get the DOTS up and I’ll place the camera. Danny place the spirit book.”

Okay, this wasn’t so bad with the three of them in the room. He could hear them moving around and he could see them, so it made him feel a bit better. And there was still no sign of the ghost. He put the spirit book down near the toolbox and looked away from it. Maybe the ghost wouldn’t write in it while he was watching? He didn’t know.

“Ooh!” Tucker cried excitedly.

“Did you see it in the DOTS?” Sam asked.

“No - Ouija board! Oh yeah!” Tucker cheered. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Oh I love these,” Sam agreed. Danny’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen. Why were they acting so happy - didn’t they forget there was a ghost in this room with them?

“Hang on, let Danny try the Ouija board,” Tucker suggested. “You know, because he’s never seen it before.”

“Ooh good idea,” Sam agreed. Danny walked over to where they were and saw Sam’s avatar set down a light brown board.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sus about your motives right now,” Danny said. He had a bad feeling about this...

“No Danny, it’s fine. These are actually pretty cool in this game,” Sam assured him. She quickly explained how the Ouija boards worked in the game and what questions to ask, and against his better judgment, he walked over and activated the board. The numbers and letters glowed orange against the light color of the wood.

He decided to start with something easy, so he swallowed and forced his voice to come out clear. “How old are you?” He jumped in his chair and his avatar backed up quickly as the planchette moved across the letters.

“Y - O - U - N - G,” Tucker read. “A young ghost.”

“Oh God, I hope that doesn’t mean it’s the crawling baby ghost,” Sam sighed. “I really hate that one.”

“Ask it something else,” Tucker encouraged.

“I don’t know,” Danny hedged. For some reason the Ouija board set him on edge. Something deep in his gut did not like this. Even if it wasn’t real and he kept telling himself it wasn’t real, he didn’t like it.

“No dude, it’s okay,” he assured him. “You can ask two questions before a significant sanity drop. Just ask it one more and you can go back to the truck.”

He very much wanted to go back to the truck. He just needed a chance to regroup. He was a ghost and fought ghosts for a living and he could not understand why this game unnerved him so much. But Danny Phantom wasn’t scared of ghosts, any kind of ghosts, and he wasn’t about to show it on a video game. “Fine,” he groaned as he picked up the board again. “Who died?”

This time he knew what to expect, and didn’t jump as much as the planchette started moving. First to the D, then to the A. Over to the N, then looping back to the N. It ended on a Y.

All three of them stopped moving. The silence became even more deafening around them. Danny dropped the Ouija board and backed up as far as the game would let him. He felt a cold sweat drip down his back. Danny. It spelled Danny. How did it know his name?

“...That has got to be a coincidence,” Sam finally said after the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“The ghost’s name must be Danny,” Tucker suggested, voice full of forced bravado.

“...No it’s Thomas,” Sam said slowly. “It must just be reading your username to scare you,” she decided.

“No my...my username is GhostBoy,” Danny reminded them, finally feeling like he could speak.

“Is this game actually haunted? Danny, what did you do?” Tucker accused, voice bordering on hysterics.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Danny yelled back. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He put a hand up to feel his breath - still normal temperature. He looked around his room. There wasn’t a ghost here. But how did it know his name? And that he did almost die in a basement? “You’re the one that told me to use it!”

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Sam interrupted. “It’s gotta be a coincidence. Let me try it and see if it says the same thing or gives me my name. It could be a new update that checks the name on the Steam account or something.”

Sam moved closer to the board, but before she could touch it all their flashlights flickered.

“Shit!” Tucker yelled.

“Run!” Sam cried in a panic.

Danny followed them up the stairs to the main level. The idea of running from a ghost, not fighting it, was so foreign to him, but he had no choice. He was powerless here. No ghost powers, no weapons, no thermos. He was completely helpless against this ghost.

He bolted for the garage, the one other room he knew how to get to. Sam’s avatar was running next to him. He could hear footsteps behind him and he swore as he ran towards the garage. Sam diverted into another room, but he continued into the garage. He found a locker he’d opened before and rushed into it. He barely remembered to turn off his flashlight and he waited. Seconds passed and he realized he was holding his breath. No...not holding his breath. Not breathing. He looked down at his hands and saw the glowing white gloves. When...when did he change into his ghost form?

Sam’s voice over the walkie startled him. “What the--? Oh my G--” The walkie feed cut to static and then nothing.

“I...I think it got Sam,” Tucker’s voice said over the walkie. Danny turned on his flashlight and saw that it was no longer blinking. He threw his head back in relief. The hunt was over. He climbed back out of his locker, keeping the door open again just in case.

“Dude, she was running right next to me. It must have followed her instead of me,” Danny told him. “Ugh, well what are we going to do now? She’s the only one who knew what she was doing!”

“Wait, I thought you would be a pro because you’re a ‘professional ghost hunter’ - isn’t that what you kept saying?” Tucker teased.

“Yeah, well I lied! This is nothing like ghost hunting!” he argued as he walked out of the garage. He was going back to the trailer. “Real ghost hunters would bring some kind of weapon and wouldn’t just run around helpless! We should just call it.”

“What? No! We’ve got two more pieces of evidence to collect. And we haven’t done any of the objectives! Tucker retorted.

“Fine!” he snapped as he walked down the main hallway. “if you want to keep looking for clues you can, but I’m going back to the trailer to check--”

The front door slammed shut. His flashlight blinked again.

“Shit!” Tucker cried.

Danny could hear the footsteps behind him. He could feel a heart thumping in his headset. He started running off to a room but stopped. No, he was not running again. He was going to stare this ghost down and prove that Danny Phantom was not scared of some ghost. His image struck fear in the hearts of ghosts and his name carried respect in the Ghost Zone. He was not going to let some video game ghost get the better of him and spook him with some Ouija board trick.

He turned around to face it, camera at the ready. If he was going down, he was getting a picture of it. The ghost blinked in the hallway and Danny saw the cause of his anxiety for the first time. The ghost floated down the hallway, with white hair and a black and white jumpsuit. It...it was him. The ghost was Phantom.

He completely forgot to take a picture as his own image rushed at him. He saw two gloved hands cover over the screen and then everything went dark. He heard the crash of breaking glass, saw a strange underground cavern for a second, and then he was back in a foggy blue version of the house.

The ghost of Sam’s avatar approached him, and he heard her laughing over the headset. It sounded like she’d been laughing for awhile. “Oh my god Danny, did you see the ghost?” she asked between laughs.

“It...that was...oh my God,” he groaned. It all made sense. Spelling Danny was likely an Easter egg, a cute nod to his name of Danny Phantom. The fact that it happened in the basement was just a coincidence, because it’s a creepy spot and a commonly haunted area. He hadn’t summoned anything. He wasn’t being targeted by some ghost in the computer. It was just an Easter egg paying homage to him.

Suddenly all the stress left him and he laughed. God, it felt so good to laugh after all that panic. This game had gotten him so worked up and over what? Over a ghost that looked like himself? Suddenly it all seemed so silly that it scared him that much. He had felt actual dread and fear, enough to trigger an unconscious transformation out of a need to protect himself, but there weren’t actually any real consequences. Now he just got to walk around unhindered in this ghostly version of the house, but nothing else actually happened.

Sam laughed along with Danny. “So you did see it then?”

“It was...oh my god Sam it was me! It looked just like me!”

“I know!” she exclaimed. “As soon as I saw it I forgot to keep running and stared. So of course it killed me. I did get a picture though,” she bragged.

“Oh man. I meant to, but I was just too stunned.” Now that he felt much better, he decided to wander around the house following Tucker who, for some reason, was still trying to finish the level on his own.

Sam suspiciously stopped her laughing. “Wait...Danny, your voice sounds weird. Are you...are you in your ghost form?”

Danny bit his lip as a slight blush graced his cheeks. “I don’t want to hear it.” But the telltale whoosh of the glowing rings turning him back to his human form seemed to be all the confirmation she needed. Except, he didn’t hear her laugh.

“...Danny, I wanted to apologize,” she said, and that made Danny stop moving and look quizzically at the screen.

“What? Apologize for what?” he asked.

“For goading you into playing this game,” she clarified, her voice surprisingly serious. “While I’ve been hanging out here in the spirit world, I realized why this game set you off so much.”

“What do you mean? I never said it set me off,” Danny defended. How could she possibly know that? He thought he was playing it pretty cool.

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “You’re in your ghost form and you were panicking after the Ouija board thing.”

“Hey you would panic too if--”

“Danny I’m trying to say that I get it,” she interrupted. “Being near a ghost without your powers? Without any weapons? Being powerless? It’s one of your biggest nightmares, that your powers will fail when you need them. And this game, it’s too close to home.”

Danny stopped moving and stared at the screen, because she was absolutely right. This was too close to home. How many times did he have to check to make sure his ghost sense wasn’t actually going off? How many times did he keep thinking about how similar everything felt to his own experiences? How unnerved he was about a ghost in the basement? It was too similar to his real life...except he had the tools he needed in his real life. Not a flashlight and some dumb spirit book, but actual real tools and powers and weapons, but here they were all taken away from him. Everything he relied on to fight ghosts had been stripped from him in the game and trapped him helpless in a house with his friends. Of course that bothered him. It was, as Sam said, one of his more recurring nightmares.

“...Yeah I think I’m good never playing this game again,” Danny admitted, the closest he planned to get to acknowledging everything she said was true.

“Honestly? I don’t blame you,” Sam agreed softly. “I think it’s easier for us because we’re used to this role: when there’s a ghost in the area, we help figure out what’s going on and support you. It’s not all that different from this game,” she explained. Her ghostly avatar followed Tucker out of the house and he followed after them. “But when you’re used to doing the fighting and defending and can’t...I guess it’s probably harder to separate yourself from the game.”

He reached behind him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. It was too similar to his daily life, and as he tried to argue at the beginning, he didn’t need to hunt fake ghosts poorly when he knew how to fight real ghosts well. “You know you sound like Jazz,” he pointed out, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Wow, you’re going to insult me after I tried to help you?” Sam scoffed. “See if I ever help you again!”

Danny smiled at the screen, glad to be back to the teasing. He definitely felt more relaxed and more like himself. “Oh look, Tucker’s finally calling it quits,” Danny observed as Tucker closed the door to the trailer.

“God, I can’t wait to find out if he saw you.” He could hear her grinning through the headset and honestly he felt the same. Out of all of them, Tucker would be the most excited about this addition.

The screen changed over to the menu screen, showing all their accomplished objectives. It also meant that all three party members could talk to each other again. “I can’t believe you left me!” Tucker complained. “It’s even worse when you’re in there on your own! Do you know how much more evidence we needed to collect? Um, a ton!”

Sam laughed, and Danny had to join in. “Okay so we are sorry about that, but Tucker did you ever see the ghost?”

“No, which is probably why I’m the only one that survived!” he complained.

“Oh my god Sam, he didn’t see it,” Danny groaned.

“Oh my god.”

“No wait, didn’t see what?” Tucker asked. His voice had calmed down a bit and was colored with curiosity.

“Tucker...the ghost was Danny,” Sam told him.

“Uh no, we clarified his name was Thomas,” Tucker corrected.

Sam and Danny both groaned. “No Tucker, the ghost was Danny Phantom. It was skinned to look like Phantom,” she clarified.

Tucker’s line sat silent for a long time before he finally exploded in a shower of shock, excitement, and regret. “NO WAY! No! That is so cool! I mean I knew the developers were fans, but this is so cool! Like literally the best tribute ever. Oh my god I can’t believe I missed it! No!” he cried. He was so loud into the microphone that Danny had a hard time believing Tucker didn’t wake his parents.

“It’s why both of us died,” Danny explained. “We were just too shocked seeing it.”

“We’re going back in. I need to see this,” Tucker demanded.

Danny bit his lip. He was not going back in. He meant it when he said he was done. He almost had his explanation on his lips before Sam spoke up first. “I doubt it’ll show up two times in a row. I Googled it and the skin will be here for the whole month of Halloween as a random draw, so you’ve got time to see it. But if you want to try again tonight, I’ll keep playing if you want. Danny...he needs to get some sleep.”

“What? No, it's so much easier with three people. Come on Danny,” Tucker pleaded.

“Nah, Sam’s right, I should go to bed. Gotta be rested for those real ghosts tomorrow,” Danny chuckled. “Besides, being killed by my own image was a little weird.” And also a little too close to home, considering some of his memories of Dan.

“Yeah, this game isn’t Danny’s jam,” Sam explained simply. He had a feeling Sam would talk to Tucker more about what they discussed while their avatars were dead, and honestly he didn’t mind. He didn’t want to keep secrets from Tucker, he just really didn’t want to talk about it any more tonight.

Tucker sighed. “Alright, fine, you’re off the hook. At least you gave it a try though.”

“I did, and you’re both gonna owe me one for doing it too,” Danny reminded them.

“Dude, pretty sure you’re in the negatives when it comes to IOUs from us,” Tucker pointed out with a good-natured laugh. “Testing out inventions, excuses at school, doing your homework, remembering the thermos when you forget it, distracting your parents…”

“Okay okay, I get it,” Danny groaned as he left the screen and exited out of the game. “Well fine, then I’m less in the negative now. And on that happy subject, I’m going to bed. Good night guys.”

“Good night Danny,” Sam replied. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Danny almost hung up on their private Discord server when he heard Tucker speak up. “Hey Danny, wait.”

“What?” he asked curiously, his mouse still hovering over the disconnect sign.

“The type of ghost...was a Phantom.”

I’ve never cross-posted on tumblr before, so this will be a first! I hope you enjoy!

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

[awanderingdeal]

An unfair race

I finally finished this! This fic is kind of a follow on to Endless Nights. Note: That fic is rated M and contains some sexual content, but you do not need to read it for this to make sense. I wanted to combine Finn talking with Heather, and an aspect of the discussion after that fic, where we talked about athletes in particular using exercise as a coping mechanism, and how this can sometimes turn unhealthy.

Some content warnings for this one: over exercise (if you'd like to skip the explicit description of this, skip to after the first stars, although there are a couple of mentions throughout), food mentions, self-depreciation and mentions of coming out/being outed.

Rating: T

If you feel I missed any content warnings or need to change the rating, please drop me a message!

The characters in this fic are from the sweater weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

Finn’s entire body ached as his feet pounded against the path once more. His form was sloppy now, shoulders too hunched over and his strides falling without any real control. He forced himself onwards, breaths coming in fast pants, the straining muscles of his quads screaming desperately for more oxygen. And yet, his brain still whirred, obnoxiously loud thoughts pushing their way back to the forefront each time Finn managed to grasp a few blissful quiet seconds. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d passed the statue of the girl and her ducks, the smile on her face that he normally found so comforting becoming more and more irritating with each meeting. As he came to the gates of the park, Finn contemplated going home, but even just the reduced speed had brought the taunting thoughts back with a vengeance. One more go.

***

"H, has her jacket on. Has everybody got their game faces ready, boys?" It had been at least 30 minutes since James had made the joke as they all tumbled from the locker room, yet the sound of bright laughter still rang in Finn's ears.

He watched as Heather tugged her suit jacket more tightly around her, their eyes meeting for the third time in short succession. Fuck. Finn pushed his tongue against his mouthguard, sinking his teeth into the hard plastic. Later, self-inflicted as the need would be, he would complain about the new one he’d have moulded, each guard always feeling slightly different. For now, the rhythmic clench of his jaw was soothing.

Finn forced a breath through his nose, trying not to react too visibly as Heather dipped her head once more to add another scribbled note to the small, black book she carried everywhere. He forced himself to look away, knowing his constant glances were giving away his unease. Whilst Heather didn’t come to every training session, not even most, it wasn’t that uncommon to see her hovering around the edges of the ice, and ordinarily, only the very newest of the team paid any attention to her beyond an initial greeting.

“Earth to O’Hara!”

Finn held up his hand in apology, shaking himself back to the training session. Kasey’s eyes bored into him. It wasn't his usual intense stare, but something more concerned and Finn waited for the inevitable question. After a long few seconds, Kasey's eyes dropped to the puck, passing it back to Finn to take another shot.

The numbers on the clock inched forwards, slow and heavy like the sweet sticky molasses Leo was so fond of. Still, when Coach finally dismissed them for the day, Finn found himself wanting to take another lap. If he could get his thighs to burn enough then his head would race a little less, and it wouldn’t be too suspicious; Finn’s record of being last on the ice was surpassed only by Sirius. Before Finn could really consider it, Leo was next to him, knocking their shoulders together.

“Hey,” Leo cocked his head slightly, hair ruffled from the mask he’d recently pulled off and his pale skin glistening with sweat. He looked as beautiful as ever. Illogical as it was, it somehow made the dull ache in Finn's chest worse. "Everything good?"

"Yeah," Finn tried for a smile. "Busy brain today, that's all." There was no point brushing the question off completely; Leo was scarily observant. He and Logan often joked that he had eyes in the back of his head. Finn had no doubt he had caught the many pucks he had missed over the last hour.

"That sucks," Leo said, scepticism leaking into his voice. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Finn followed his glance behind them to where Logan was tussling with Jackson, loud rumblings of French intertwined with their laughter. "Or Lo, perhaps?"

"I like it when he looks like that,” Finn sighed.

"Mmm, me too” Leo hummed, his features softening. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that change of subject though, Sir. You don’t have to talk to me about it, but please don’t bottle it all."

Finn slumped into his stall, smiling as Leo lifted his hand to press a kiss to the knuckles. “I’m dealing with it.”

“Baby,” Leo started, his next word morphing into a stunted exhalation of air. His eyes closed briefly, his shoulders squaring before he relaxed them. He opened his mouth again, the sentence uttered clearly not what he’d originally planned on saying. "I'm going to take my padding off and head to see Lars. I think Loops is sticking around so I can get a ride with him if you two want to go home?"

Finn thought back to the quiet look of concern on Logan's face after he'd got home from his run the previous evening, and to the creased lines of worry at the corners of Leo's eyes earlier. "I think I might go and see Heather," he shrugged.

"Thank God," Logan appeared, wrapping his arms around Finn's waist. "Your runs were getting ridiculous."

"You didn't say anything?" Finn turned in Logan's arms, to rest his chin on top of his head.

"We were going to give you one more day. Leo wanted to speak to you this evening, only I had faith.”

"Oh, fuck off," Leo laughed. "You were just avoiding the conversation."

“I’m offended that you would even suggest that,” Logan burrowed into Finn’s chest. The sweat soaked gear they wore didn’t smell great, but neither of them seemed to care.

Moody huffed as he veered around them, his arms filled with tape. “No canoodling in the locker room.”

***

“As lovely as this chat has been Finn, if you really did just come in to catch up then I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ve got a couple of sessions this afternoon, and a mound of paperwork to complete,” Heather shifted in the forest green bucket chair. They were new since Finn had last been in here, replacing an ugly leather thing that Heather had always complained was too stereotypical. She’d removed her jacket now that she was back in her heated office, the item hung on the back of the door where it rightfully belonged.

Finn, freshly showered and changed, sat cross legged in the chair opposite. He reached forward to grab more pretzel sticks from the bowl on the table between them, puckering his lips as his tongue protested another injection of salt. “You know there is something I could do with your opinion on.”

Despite the reaction being minute, Finn saw the tiny upwards quirk of Heather’s lips. “Go on,” she encouraged.

“It’s dumb,” Finn muttered, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair.

“Thoughts don’t have moral value Finn, it’s what we do with that’s important.” Heather pulled a handful of tissues from a box on the table, holding them out. “Tap away, but please spare the upholstery.”

“Sorry,” Finn grimaced, cleaning his hands of the salty residue.

“No need to apologise, I’m just still a bit precious about the new furniture.” Heather smiled. “Why do you think your issue is dumb?”

“It’s -” Finn tugged at his sleeve. “I can just never be happy with what I’ve got can I? I spent 8 years saying that if Logan could just love me back then I’d never complain again. And now I’ve got Logan and Leo and I’m still not happy.”

“What’s making you unhappy?

Finn breathed in deeply, scrunching his eyes shut. He’d spent weeks stuffing the pain into the tiniest box he could in his brain, and now here Heather was asking him to just - talk about it?

“Finn, look at me?” Finn did as he was asked, lifting his head to find Heather’s kind eyes. “I’m going to reiterate something I’ve said before. You can say anything you want here. It doesn’t matter if it’s selfish or unkind or if you think it’s stupid. Unless I think you’re a danger to yourself or anybody else, then nobody is going to hear about it.”

Finn bit his lip, wiggling his toes beneath his legs. “I get jealous,” he rushed out. “I get jealous of Cap and Loops and Potts and Lily and all those other couples who just get to hug and kiss and tell the cameras how stupidly in love they are.” He paused, the panic of having told somebody matching the relief, but now the words had started tumbling out he couldn’t stop. “I get so angry about it. Sometimes, for the tiniest second, I hate them. All of them.” he whispered, barely able to admit it. “And then I just feel worse. Because I love them too and it’s not their fault. Cap and Loops didn’t even get a choice in the matter. How messed up is it to be jealous of somebody that got outed?”

“Emotions are complex. It is possible for you to have sympathy for Sirius and Remus, whilst still feeling jealous that they now can be more open about their relationship.”

'I don't like it," Finn huffed. The sentence had come out mimicking a toddler having a tantrum. Finn wanted to act like one too, to throw himself on the floor and scream.

“Have you spoken to Leo or Logan about it?”

“No,” Finn frowned. “It would just make them sad and I don’t want them to pressure them. I don’t want them to know I think such horrible things.”

“Okay,” Heather nodded. “Imagine one of them came to you and told you everything you’d just told me. What would you say to them?”

“Wait.” A distressed noise fell from Finn’s lips. “Do they talk to you about this too? Both of them make a comment here or there, but we talked about it not long ago and we agreed that we weren’t ready.”

“Finn, you know I can’t tell you about what I discuss with Leo or Logan.”

“It was worth a shot,” Finn shrugged.

“So, what would you say?”

“I’d say they are entitled to be jealous. I'd say it’s not fair we don’t get to do everything the others do just because the world is homophobic and close minded and can’t imagine the three of us could love each other exactly the same as every other more traditional couple. I’d say that I know they don’t hate Cap or Loops or Potts or Lily, they hate the situation and that’s completely understandable. It fucking sucks and they can be angry about it." Finn drew in a hulking breath, Heather's outline a little blurred through his wet eyes. Each word had sent an aching pain through his body, similar to when he ran, only now he felt like was chasing something cathartic rather than running away.

"Earlier you said what you had to tell me was dumb," Heather said. "Can you explain why you think that it's dumb for you to feel that way, horrible even, but if it were Leo or Logan their feelings are valid."

"Maybe it's not dumb," Finn looked down at his hands, tracing over the freckles there. "But that doesn't change the fact I don't like having those thoughts. Especially when I don't want to act on them. I’m okay with waiting to tell people about us, if we ever do. They're not ready. I'm not ready."

"That’s something we can work on. Helping you to reframe those thoughts, I mean.” Heather slipped her notebook from where it had been tucked beside her and made a note. Finn leaned his elbow on his leg, tucking his chin onto his fist, trying to make his attempts to see the page surreptitious. Capping her pen, she gave a small chuckle, “I’m just leaving myself a reminder of what we’ve discussed. You can always ask what I’m writing, I’m not trying to keep secrets from you.”

Finn sat back, the book no longer quite so interesting now that it wasn’t forbidden. “So? That’s it?”

Heather hummed. “For today. I think you’ve got a lot to think about already. I’ll schedule some more sessions with you over the next few days, okay? It’ll give me a chance to get some new pretzels.”

"Thanks," Finn laughed, then gestured at the empty bowl. "For the pretzels. And the talk."

“That’s what I’m here for,” Heather said. “I’m just going to ask one thing of you before I see you next. Please try to keep your evening runs to a reason-”

“Who snitched?”

“There was no snitching, as you call it. We’ve just known each other for a while now, Finn. And as an employee of the Lions whose job it is to make sure you’re at top playing ability, I don’t want you to injure yourself. As your psychologist, I want you to have healthy coping mechanisms and exercising to that extent is not healthy.”

“I know,” Finn unfolded his legs, stretching them out. They’d gone stiff after being sat on for so long, the sensation coming back with an uncomfortable tingle. “I’ll try to keep the runs in check, promise.” His gaze fell on the closed door, steeling himself to leave. He stood, sending Heather one last smile. It was safe in here, but his boys were out there.

“See you soon, Finn.”

Stepping out of the office, Finn closed his eyes, giving himself a second to compose himself. A rustle of movement to his left caught his attention, startling a little at the sight of Leo and Logan. They sat on the floor, Leo’s hand resting on Logan’s knee where they were hunched to his chest.

“Sorry,” Leo scrambled to his feet, his arm outstretched to let Logan pull himself upright too. “We didn’t want to wait too far away. In case, well, I don’t know, you needed us.”

Finn joined them, immediately finding Logan attached to his side, his familiar warmth exactly what he wanted right now. “I’m okay,” he assured. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it with you guys just yet. I need a bit of time to process, but just you being here makes things better. I’m going to see Heather a bit more too.”

“Proud of you.” Leo flanked him on the other side, taking his hand. Finn didn’t get to be in the middle often, Logan usually claiming the spot, and he felt like he had a kind of shield. “We just want you to be happy. And safe.”

“Can we go home, please?”

“Ouais, home,” Logan agreed.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

The Perfect Night | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: Can you please write a fanfic with Charlie Gillespie x reader where you're taking him with you as a plus one to your high school reunion because you don't have anyone to go with but then they realise they really like each other

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Female!Reader

Warnings: a few curse words like bitch, fluff 

Words: 2,622

High school wasn’t your favorite. All the bullies and the stress to fit in. Everyone laughing at you because you were the nerd with all the stories piled up on your computer and the fantasy of a child in your head. You’d thought you left all of that behind. But then came the reunion. You’ve only graduated five years ago from high school and only last year from college. Though you had an amazing job as screenwriter and some really great friends, you didn’t have a date to bring to that reunion, and you knew all those people would pick on you for old time’s sake because you didn’t have a date. “Hey, you okay? You seem stressed,” Charlie’s voice shakes you awake from your anxious thoughts about the reunion. You look up at him and offer him a nervous smile. Charlie Gillespie is your co-worker, and along with the rest of the Julie and The Phantoms team, one of your newest friends. Yes, you were on the writing team for Julie and The Phantoms, and you had just finished a table read for season 2. “Yeah, I just—there’s this high school reunion tonight and I really don’t want to go.” “Not a fan of high school?” he asks as he falls into step with you, the two of you walking out of the building. “Not at all…” he gives you a curious look, “Eh, they used to bully me because I was a writer and spent my time writing books instead of going out to parties or spending time with friends,” you give him the synopsis. Charlie doesn’t need to know about the nights you spend crying in your room or going to your therapist. You were close, just not that close. Besides, you’d rather forget about your past. “And now you’re a part of the writers’ team on a popular Netflix show?” he tries with a smile, but you just give him an unimpressed look. “Come on, Y/N! This is an opportunity to show them what you made of yourself! Brag a bit about how amazing a job you have!” You shrug, still not convinced. “I just don’t want to face them alone…” you mumble, staring at your moving feet when suddenly a thought pops into your head and you stop in your tracks, looking up at him. “Do you want to be my plus one?” He halts too, raising his eyebrows at you. “Nope, you’re right, that’s stupid!” You start walking again, Charlie following your example. “No. No, it’s not stupid. I just didn’t think you’d ask me?” “You’re one of my best friends here, Charlie. It’s just logical.” He smiles at that. He really has become your best friend since meeting him a couple months ago. “Okay! So, am I playing your boyfriend? Husband? Just a best friend?” You furrow your eyebrows at him, glaring at him questionably. “We could make something fun out of this, Y/N!” He’s almost bouncing off the walls with excitement. That’s the Charlie you know and love. “Okay… Uhm, let’s pretend you’re my boyfriend. I bet they wouldn’t expect the antisocial nerd to have a boyfriend.” The giggle that comes out of his mouth is too adorable to handle. “How did we meet?” he asks, making sure you got the story straight. “Uhm, here?” you suggest. He rolls his eyes at the obvious answer but goes with it. “Okay! Uhm, let’s – let’s say I fell for you when you bossily told me how I should say a line in the dialogue you wrote?” You nod your head slowly. That sounds kind of cute. “What was our first date?” “Uhm, I don’t know? Movie and dinner?” He scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “No, girl… Charlie Gillespie doesn’t do basic dates!” You chuckle at this, stopping in the hallway of the building to check out. “You like hiking, right?” You nod your head, signing your name on the paper at the front desk. “I took you on a hike on the Eagle Bluffs trail in Vancouver and we had a romantic picnic on the mountain with a gorgeous view over the Cabin Lake.” You nearly melt away at the thought of him taking you on a date like that. “That’s a cute date,” you tell him, impressed, and trying not to show what it’s really doing to you. “And I kissed you on that mountain top.” He raises an eyebrow as an amused smirk pulls at his lips. “No one at my school would ever think I’d be the one to take that step.” “And our first ‘I love you’s were accidental slip ups at work!” He sounds way too excited and he’s getting way too into this. “Like, I’d accidentally completely mess up the punch-line of the joke you wrote, and you’d get annoyed and angry, and then I accidentally said “Okay, sorry, thank you, I love you”.” You giggle at his ideas as the both of you exit the building together. “Anything else we need to discuss?” you ask, grabbing your car key. “Don’t think so…” he trails off, really mulling it over. “Oh! Is there a dress code?” “Yes! It’s formal,” you reply, hoping that wouldn’t be too much of trouble so last minute. He thinks about it for a moment, going through his own wardrobe in his mind. “What are you wearing?” he questions. “Not sure, a red dress, I think…” “You think?” “Yeah, I might change my mind if I don’t like it.” He nods his head understandingly. “What time does it start?” “Seven. It’s about fifteen minutes from my place.” “I’ll pick you up at twenty minutes before then,” he suggests. You nod your head in agreement, then say your goodbyes and go your separate ways. That night, Charlie’s eyes widen when you open the door in your red, tight-fitting bodycon dress with spaghetti straps. He’s not used to seeing you out of your comfy mom-jeans and T-shirts or sweaters. “Uh… Okay… First of all,” he gestures to your body, “Wow!” You laugh at him, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Second of all… WOW!” “It’s not too much?” you ask, shyly. “No! No! Not at all! I’m very glad I get to play the boyfriend of a goddess like you.” “Oh, shut it, Charlie!” you slap his chest playfully before grabbing your clutch and leaving your apartment. “You look pretty wow yourself, by the way,” you say, approving of the suit he’s wearing. He bashfully smiles as you exit the building. He opens every door for you, like a true gentleman. You’re pretty sure no one has ever done that for you before. You always thought it would be so cliché, but it’s actually really nice. “Hey, how far are we going to go with PDA?” he asks when he gets in behind the wheel. “You know, holding hands and stuff…” You blush a little at the thought alone. Being single for so long almost made you forget that was a part of it too. “Uhm… Just improvise,” you shrug. “You’re the actor after all.” You go over the story again with Charlie, making sure neither of you will forget and give everything away. “You ready?” he asks as you’re standing in front of your high school. Terrible memories flood back inside your mind, sending shivers down your spine. As if on automatic, you grab Charlie’s bicep for support – both moral and physical. “Let’s do this.” The two of you walk inside the school and find the gym where they’re holding the five-year reunion. The music’s blasting, lights are flickering, and people are mingling, reminiscing over their high school memories. You already spot a few people you know, but much rather not talk to. “If you ever feel overwhelmed and want to leave, just tell me, and we’re out of here,” he whispers in your ear. You can’t help but smile at his words. A true gentleman.   “Thanks, Charlie,” you whisper back. He takes you straight to the bar where he gets you your favorite beverage. “How’d you know?” you ask when he hands it over. “You always order a G&T at the crew parties,” he tells you nonchalantly. “How attentive of you,” you compliment with an endeared smile plastered on your face. This man keeps surprising you with the smallest thing, and it’s the cutest thing you’d ever witnessed. It gives you the feeling of being seen and appreciated and respected. For the first time in your life. “Oh my God! Y/N!” you hear the shrill voice of Ella, one of your classmates from back in the day. One of the biggest bullies from your senior year. “You look amazing! How are you doing?!” she grabs the hand your not holding your drink with and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, Ella…” you greet, putting the fakest smile you can muster on your face. “I’m good! How are you?” Charlie watches you to find any sign of uncomfortableness. “I’m good! You know, recently engaged.” She shows you her hand, which is decorated with the shiniest, biggest diamond ring you’d ever seen. “Oh, wow!” you glance at Charlie, “Look, babe, she’s engaged!” If he’s surprised by the sudden pet name, he doesn’t show it. “Congratulations, Bella!” You know he’s butchering that name on purpose, and you have to try your hardest to stifle a laugh. “You have a boyfriend?” Ella asks, clearly bitter over either him butchering her name or you, having such an attractive boyfriend. “There’s nothing on Facebook about that?” she chuckles awkwardly. Charlie wraps a protective arm around your waist, pulling you closer towards him. “Uhm… Yeah… We’re keeping it lowkey, you know?” you reply as convincingly as possible. “He’s an actor, so…” you trail off, hoping that would impress her. Ella’s demeanor changes all of a sudden. She goes from total bitch to flirty bitch. “Really?” She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “Y/N?” Another voice chimes in, this one belongs to Addison, Ella’s bestie. “Hey, Addie…” you greet, clutching your glass really hard. Charlie can feel you tensing up beside him and starts rubbing circles on your hip. “Y/N has an actor boyfriend,” Ella informs her. Addison’s eyes widen as they dart from you to Charlie and back. “How’d you meet?” Addison questions, intrigued by this entire story. The two of you glance at each other, trying to determine who’s going to tell the story. “At work, actually,” you start. “I’m on the writers team of the show he plays in.” “Yeah! She bossily told me how to deliver the line she wrote, and I’ve been in love with her ever since.” He looks down at you with the most endeared smile on his face that makes you melt like ice cream in the sun. “Aw! That’s adorable!” Addison clutches her heart as if it’s about to burst out of her chest. “When did you fall in love with him, Y/N?” You glance at Charlie for some assistance or some inspiration. “When he suggested that instead of a boring movie and dinner date, we’d go hiking together. I just knew he was the one for me at that moment.” You’re not going to lie, Charlie taking you on a hiking date would totally make you fall in love with him. Ella’s and Addison’s noses scrunch up in disgust. “Also…” she adds, then leans in closer to the girls to whisper, “His arms! The boy has guns, I tell you!” The two girls gasp, scanning Charlie entirely from head-to-toe. He snickers, then pulls you closer again. “You did not fall in love with me for my arms,” he tells you, shaking his head with an amused look on his face. You look up at him, eyebrow raised. “I do see you every day with those muscle tees, babe. You really think I wouldn’t swoon for that?” You couldn’t lie. Charlie’s arms were killer. But obviously not the only thing that made him attractive. “If you don’t mind, ladies. I’m going to take my lady for some food,” he nods towards the other side of the gym where food is stalled out into a banquet. Addison and Ella bid their goodbyes, and the two of you make your way to the catering. “I hate them with a passion,” you grumble as you take a plate to fill with canapes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as fake as them, and I’m an actor.” You giggle at his comment and reach for the mini-pizzas at the same time he does, your hands touch, making both of you freeze. “Sorry,” you both mumble, pulling away, flustered. “Hey, Y/N!” A voice you really didn’t want to hear sounds from behind me. “Kill me now,” you mumble, earning a worried look from Charlie. “Ex-boyfriend.” Charlie takes your plate from you and places it onto the table, leaving you a little confused. “Do you trust me?” he asks, hushed. “Yeah, wh—?” before you can finish your question, Charlie presses his lips to yours, pushing you gently against the wall behind you. You’re startled, at first, but then melt into the kiss as your stomach starts to do flips and turns. You didn’t realize until now that this is what you’ve wanted all along. You always wondered why your eyes always automatically darted to his lips. Now you know why. “Ooh! Get it, Y/N!” you hear your ex’s best friend shout. Nothing about high school has changed. Except now Charlie’s here. He pulls away and stares at you for a moment, equally as overwhelmed as you. “You want to get out of here?” he whispers. You simply nod your head, running your tongue across your bottom lip as though the taste of his lips is still there. Charlie grabs your hand and pulls you to the door of the gym. As you pass your ex and his friends, you offer them a wave of your slender fingers. For the first time in years, you feel powerful in this gym, like you can conquer the world. Charlie takes you into the hallway, and pushes you against the wall of lockers, kissing you again. You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as your hands tug at his suit jacket. “I wanted to do that for so long,” he whispers when he pulls away for a second, pressing his forehead against yours and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “What do you mean?” you ask, keeping your voice down too. “You really think I made all of that up in there?” he chuckles. “I really did fall for you when you told me off about delivering that line wrong.” Your mouth drops open before your lips turn up into a surprised smile. “It was incredibly hot.” “And I do swoon every time I see you, by the way,” you admit for the first time to yourself. “And I would really love that first date you imagined for us.” “Good,” he replies, “Because I was going to ask you to go this weekend.” Your eyes widen, and Charlie notices a sparkle in them that he’s never seen before. “Thank you for tonight, Charlie,” you whisper, pushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He has that Patrick Swayze hair he had a couple of times in Season 1 of Julie and The Phantoms, the hairstyle you find way too attractive. “No, thank you.” He smiles down at you before connecting his lips to yours again in a deep, passionate kiss. Tonight, you not only conquered your dreadful past, but you also found the love of your life in your best friend. And you couldn’t possibly ask for more. This was a perfect night.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​ @bookdealer5​ 

[hazza-bear-care]

First Time

Summary: Every girl fantasizes how to make her first time amazing, but Y/N never got it. That is until Steve Rogers comes to her rescue.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Virgin!Reader 

Warnings: description of panic attack, SMUT, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), some minor swearing. IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING. YOU DO NOT NEED TO READ THIS!!!

THIS IS A LONG ONE BOYS! BUCKLE UP!

~~~~~~~~

When she was 16, it seemed like everyone in her school was losing their virginities. It had gotten to the point where Y/N thought she was the only girl in her friend group who hadn’t had sex yet. Her two best friends had managed to lose theirs AND keep their boyfriends, so she thought the same would happen to her. But after graduating high school and college (twice), Y/N was still wondering when she was going to get her perfect first time. 

Her job didn’t help to keep her distracted, though. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D regularly worked with the Avengers, so Y/N interacted with the most attractive people she had ever seen on an almost every day basis.

“Earth to Y/N! What’s got you so distracted today?” Maria Hill asked as the two walked towards the conference room, data pad tucked beneath her arm as Y/N carried paper files for Steve and Bucky. 

“Huh? Oh, nothing really. I was just... thinking.” Y/N replied, hoping that would be enough to make Maria back off just a little bit.  

“Thinking about what?” Well, that worked.

“Um, can I ask you a personal question?” Y/N asked, stopping in the hallway. 

“Sure, what is it?” The look of concern on Maria’s face almost made Y/N reconsider asking. 

“How old were you when you lo... lost your virginity?” Y/N looked at her heels and shook her knees, trying to distract herself even more. 

“I was 17. I lost it on prom night and if I could take it back, I would. Why?” Y/N was silent, her eyes still not meeting Maria’s as she gnawed on her bottom lip. “You’re still a virgin? Y/N how is that possible?!”

“How is what possible?” A deep voice asked from behind them causing Maria and Y/N to jump. Steve stood in his place, a quizzical look on his face as the two girls in front of him tried to gather themselves. 

“Oh, Captain Rogers! Agent Hill and I were just discussing the mission you’re going on in a few days.” Y/N fumbled, handing Steve the mission highlights in his folder as the three continued to make their way to the conference room. 

“Is that one for Bucky?” Steve asked, gesturing to the other folder in Y/N’s grasp. 

“Yes, it is. I know the two of you aren’t comfortable with technology, so I printed the briefings for you.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, Doll. Thank you.” The pair shared a smile as Steve excused himself into the conference room. Maria glanced at Y/N, a very big smile on her face. 

“What?” Y/N asked as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, anxious for Bucky to arrive so the meeting can start. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she tried to avoid Maria’s staring. 

“You like him! You like Steve!” 

“Will you be quiet?! You don’t even know if that’s true or not, Maria!” The harsh whispering echoed in the almost silent hallway and Y/N feared that Steve had heard Maria’s accusation through the doors that lead to the conference room. 

“You don’t need to try and hide it, Y/N. Steve is a good choice and from what I’ve heard, he’s GREAT in bed.” Maria argued, giddy at the possibility of her best friend shacking up with Captain America. Maria couldn’t hide her grin further as Bucky’s thundering footsteps were heard echoing down the hallway. 

“Afternoon, ladies,” Bucky greeted as Y/N handed him his file. He took it with a smile and held the door open for the girls as they all entered the conference room. 

~~~~~~

The meeting was so long. Y/N usually loved mission briefings, but she couldn’t stay focused. Every time she looked up from her notepad, Steve’s profile just happened to catch her attention: the sharpness of his jawline accentuating the angles of his nose. Maria cleared her throat which caused Steve to turn his head, catching the most recent glance from Y/N as she blushed and looked down at her notepad. Steve smiled a little at her reaction to being caught staring.

Steve had quite a crush on the newest S.H.I.E.L.D agent: her eyes told a story he’d love to listen to, her hair was always ridiculously shiny and looked like it smelled fantastic, and her curvy figure did nothing to stifle his feelings for her. Y/N was always so innocent, keeping to herself and opting to bury her nose in her work rather than going out and partying. She always took his needs as well as Bucky’s into consideration, especially when it came to teaching them how to adjust to the technology that they couldn’t avoid. She recommended books ranging anywhere from Great Gatsby to the Harry Potter series. The three of them (Steve, Bucky, and Y/N) regularly had movie nights and heated arguments about whether the book was better than the movie. 

Y/N showed the two super soldiers everything she could. They were always together, yet it didn’t seem weird. The only thing that she couldn’t stop were her blossoming feelings for Steve. She was bad at hiding her feelings, but she also knew she couldn’t tell Steve how she felt and risk embarrassing herself forever. 

“Alright, dismissed.” Y/N felt her blood rush cold as Fury dismissed the group. She knew Maria was going to escort Bucky out of the room the first chance she got, but Y/N wasn’t sure if she could handle being alone with Steve.  

Maria and Bucky dismissed themselves to discuss the briefing, leaving Y/N and Steve alone together. Trying to keep her focus on cleaning up papers and coffee mugs that were scattered around the table, Y/N attempted to keep her breathing even. 

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You seem kind of flustered today.” She froze. 

“I’m good, Steve. Just.. personal things. Lots of stuff on my mind.”

“Like what?” Y/N didn’t want to have this conversation, especially since Steve and Bucky have a mission to go on in less than three days time, but he asked. 

“Um nothing important, I promise.” Steve wasn’t having it. She was usually so open and honest especially about if there was anything going on in her life. Now she wasn’t talking and all Steve wanted to do was help. 

“Y/N if you tell me, I can probably help.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the suggestion. “I don’t understand. Why was that funny?” 

“Oh, Steve, I’m sorry. I just don’t think this is something you can help with.” 

“Oh yeah? Try me, Y/N.” The stern look on Steve’s face was enough to make Y/N’s smile drop to the floor. He was serious, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. He wasn’t going to help her with this. 

“I... I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.” And with that, Y/N walked out of the conference room and back to her apartment. 

~~~~~

Y/N had tried to avoid both Steve and Bucky for the next few days, the awkwardness eating her from the inside out. She avoided their phone calls and invites to movie night at the compound. Tony had even sent Happy over to make sure Y/N was still alive when she didn’t show up to work for the third day in a row. 

“Y/N, you can’t keep avoiding them! What happened between you guys?” Natasha asked after showing up to Y/N’s apartment unannounced with three bottles of wine, Wanda and Maria following close behind. 

“I just... ugh I’m so stupid! Nothing would have happened if I hadn’t asked Maria a stupid question!” Y/N wanted to scream; bury her face into a pillow and go until her throat was raw. At least then she’d have a reason not to talk to Steve again. 

“It was a reasonable question to ask, Y/N. And trust me, no one will think differently of you just because you’re a virgin.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Maria knew she was in trouble. She had just spilled her best friend’s greatest secret and there was no taking it back. If looks could kill, Maria would be dead ten times over with the glare that Y/N was giving her. 

“You’re a virgin?” Wanda asked softly, testing to see if it was safe to talk again. 

“God! Why not just yell it from the rooftop next time, Maria!” Y/N had barely touched her first glass of wine, but she downed it in about three sips out of frustration. “I never should have said anything. I’d rather die a virgin than keep being made fun of it by my so-called friends.”

“Y/N, shut it. We are your friends and we are NOT making fun of you. We just can’t seem to wrap our minds around how you’re 26 years old and still a virgin. You’re gorgeous. You have an amazing body and you are a complete badass with a weapon. How have you managed to stay a virgin for that long and with the history you have?” Natasha clarified their confusion in a more understandable way, which obviously caught Y/N’s attention. 

“I honestly don’t know. My mom scared me out of doing it when I was in school, but that was mostly due to her fears about me growing up. Then I went to college and just opted to focus on school so I could get the job I loved. I guess I just forgot about it. But now I’m here with an extremely obvious crush on America’s Golden Boy and no way to talk to him about this.” Y/N rested her hands on her face and did everything she could to hold back her tears of stress and embarrassment.  Someone put their hand on Y/N’s back in hopes of comforting her, but she wasn’t one to seek comfort through anyone’s touch. She nudged the hand off of her shoulder and left her small kitchen to pout in her bedroom, the other three women left confused in their places. 

~~~

After a quick phone call to Steve from Natasha, the super soldier was standing outside of Y/N’s apartment. The details of the call were fuzzy, seeing as Natasha only said something along the lines of “Y/N is upset and she needs to see you”. Thinking she was in danger, Steve tried asking for more details, the suitcase for his mission left abandoned on his bed. But Natasha could only request that Steve go to Y/N’s apartment to fix this, which confused the super soldier further. 

With a knock on the door, Steve held his breath as he waited for the girl of his dreams to invite him inside. His heart started racing faster as his enhanced hearing pinpointed the quick footfalls of Y/N as she scurried to the door. The locks clicked and the barrier was pulled open, the slight smile on her face falling immediately. 

“What are you doing here, Steve?” Y/N asked, voice coming out no louder than a whisper. 

“Nat called me and said you were upset. I thought something happened, so I came here as fast as I could. Are you okay?” Steve was masking his panic poorly, the words coming out rushed. 

“I’m fine! How many times do I have to tell you people?” Y/N walked away from the door and threw her hands in the air with exasperation. Steve followed, closing the door behind him and turning the deadbolt. He didn’t even feel safe in this neighborhood. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I made the mistake of telling Maria one of my biggest secrets and now the entire team is worried about me! They keep asking me if I’m okay or if I’ll BE okay. Then she brought over Wanda and Natasha as if she KNEW I didn’t want anyone else to hear, but they had already known! I just don’t know what to do anymore!” Y/N’s breath had quickened as she began hyperventilating, her fingers anchoring themselves in her hair. Tears began streaming down her face as her breathing strains and Steve knew what he needed to do. He surged forward and grabbed Y/N by her shoulders, spinning her until her back was against his chest. He slid down the wall until they were sitting, and his next step was to unravel her hands from her hair. While humming a soft unknown tune, he worked on massaging her wrists until her hands fell away from her head and landed on his forearms. Steve wrapped his arms around her as she finished crying, her fat tears falling against his fingers. 

“Better?” Steve questioned after Y/N’s breathing had evened out. She shrugged. “Gimme a color?” 

“Yellow.” Confused and wants to talk about it, just not yet. Steve nodded, and adjusted his grip, smiling slightly when he felt her dig her nails into his skin. 

“Alright, hon. I’ll be here when you want to talk. Let’s get you some water?” He helped her get off the floor as he found his way to the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of water out from the fridge and twisted the top off before walking back to Y/N. He handed the her the bottle as she made her way to the couch while he chose something to watch. 

“You really wanna know what’s wrong?” Her voice made Steve jump, but he nodded once he was situated in his spot. 

“Of course I want to know. I still think I can help.” 

“I’m a virgin. That’s what Maria and I were talking about before the mission briefing. And then she found out I had a crush on you and just.... took it and ran. Granted I wasn’t trying to hide how I felt, but it still wasn’t her business. I didn’t want to know if you or Bucky had found out and I didn’t want to know what you had to say. I don’t want to lose what we have just because I want to sleep with you....” More tears fell from Y/N’s eyes as she confessed her feelings to Steve. Steve sat speechless at the other end of the couch, eyes glued to her shoulder. 

Steve exhaled, his shocked breath coming out like a groan. When he actually looked back to Y/N, he could see how scared she was. His freezing clearly didn’t do anything to make the moment less terrifying. 

“I knew. A-about the crush at least. Tony kind of clued me into it at my birthday party. I must admit, he kind of made me realize MY crush in the moment as well. But, Y/N, are you absolutely positive that you’d want me to take your virginity?”

“You’re the only one I’d want to. It’s the right choice.” And with that, Steve lunged forward and crushed her lips with his, emotions flooding them both. Adoration, devotion, passion, love overwhelmed their senses as their lips continued to move together, their mouths fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Steve commented once they pulled away breathless. Y/N smiled at Steve’s comment, a slight blush on her cheeks. Steve leaned in again, but this kiss was calmer and less rushed. He wanted to savor the moment, etch the feeling of her lips into his mind for all eternity. Wanting to escalate the kiss a little further, Steve licked at Y/N’s bottom lip. She froze, the feeling unnatural and foreign; nonetheless she opened her mouth just enough for Steve’s tongue to slip past her teeth. A small moan travelled from her throat to his mouth which prompted the super soldier to smile into the kiss. 

Out of breath, Y/N broke away from the kiss and stood from her seat, a quizzical look on Steve’s face.

“Can we... gotomyroom?” She mumbled quickly. 

“One more time? I didn’t quite hear you, hon.” Steve mocked, a slight smirk on his face.

Exhaling, Y/N prepared herself to speak again. “Can we go to my room?” 

Steve stood and walked over to Y/N, kissing her deeply as his hands cupped her cheeks. “Lead the way, baby.” 

Y/N’s room was small and scarcely decorated, almost as if she didn’t have enough time to finish it before something happened. There weren’t many knickknacks or tchotchkes, but there were three shelves completely overflowing with books. Steve loved how smart she was, but still couldn’t wrap his mind around how scared she seemed to be in the moment. Y/N had sat down on the bed as if waiting for the man in front of her to make a move, but this time it was Steve who was frozen in his place. 

“Steve?”

“Are you sure about this? I need to hear you say it, Y/N.” The commanding tone in his voice wasn’t one she was unfamiliar with, yet it still sent a delicious tingle between her legs. 

“I’m sure. I want this. Come fuck me, Steve.” The confidence in her voice shocked them both, but Steve didn’t need anymore persuasion. Stepping forward, he all but tackled her to the bed, her small frame trapped and mushed underneath the broad expanse of his chest as their lips met once again. Steve’s fingers travelled under her shirt before fiddling with the plain cups of her bra. Y/N’s breathing stuttered slightly, but she made no effort to remove the warm hand from her breast. A surge of tenacity sizzled through Y/N’s veins as she pulled away from Steve and ripped her shirt over her head. When Steve paused to admire her body, practically drooling at the sight, she dipped her head and began wrapping her arms around her torso.

“No. You don’t have to hide from me, Y/N. You’re beautiful, okay?” Y/N nodded, but still made no effort to remove her arms from her chest. With a sigh and another kiss, Steve worked his fingers under her arms and pinned her wrists above her head. “No hiding.” 

Y/N whimpered softly at Steve’s domination, but she didn’t want him to stop. Steve began trailing kisses down her neck as his other hand snuck behind her to pop her bra open, releasing her wrists for a few seconds to rid her body of the undergarment before pinning her to the bed again. Y/N gasped at the nippy air in her room, mentally damning herself for how cold she liked to keep her room. All previous thoughts evacuated as Steve wrapped his soft lips around one of her nipples, the bud pebbling instantly in his mouth. Y/N whined as Steve sucked and flicked his tongue around her nipple, hissing slightly when his teeth brushed against it. He moved to her other breast, smiling slightly at her panting. Once he chose to stop the torment on her chest, Steve slithered down to her waist. Pausing for a moment, he savored the image of the girl beneath him, the fear in her eyes still very prominent. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve asked, his attention glued to Y/N’s eyes as if she were still fully clothed. 

“No. Please don’t stop, Steve.” With that, he continued. He let go of her wrists as he worked the button on her pants open, pulling them off inch by inch and throwing them over his shoulder once they were off completely. He smiled softly at the sight of her blue panties seeing as there was absolutely nothing sexy about them at all. Stuff like that never mattered to Steve, of course, but he found her lack of lace amusing. He left her panties alone, though, opting instead to disrobe himself instead. It was only fair that he match her nakedness before continuing. Once he was left in just his boxers, Y/N felt her cheeks flush at the sight of how big his bulge was. She wasn’t completely inexperienced, but he would be the biggest she had ever seen. 

“Hey. Eyes up here, princess.” Steve gestured to his eyes as he slunk back between her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. He placed a few chaste kisses on her left leg, starting at her knee and trailing up her thigh. He skipped her apex entirely as he repeated his movements on her right leg. Smirking at her whine when he went to kiss her thigh again, he gently tugged her panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her bare pussy. Flicking his eyes up to gauge her reaction, Steve leaned forward and kissed her lower lips twice before sliding his tongue through her folds. Y/N flinched and gasped at the foreign feeling, yet brought one hand down to tangle her fingers in Steve’s blonde hair. Captain America smirked at her reaction and repeated his previous motion with more pressure each time. He isolated her clit between his lips and swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub, causing Y/N to throw her head back in pleasure. He chuckled, the vibrations sending a shiver up her spine as she felt a tightness in her stomach. Steve took advantage of her distraction and slipped a finger inside her tight entrance, his tongue still working furiously on her clit. Once he decided that she could handle it, he pushed another finger into her entrance, a slight sting radiating around her pussy. He pumped his fingers in time to his movements on her clit, curling his fingers upwards twice before Y/N came with a yelp. Steve stayed put, riding her through her high before pulling himself away. 

He stood once more and discarded her panties along with his boxers and crawled back over her body, his face hovering over hers. Y/N could feel his stiff member poking into her thigh as she tried to focus her attention on the man above her and not on the thoughts running through her mind. 

“Y/N, you’ll be okay. Do you trust me?” 

Making eye contact with Steve, Y/N could see that worry was more prominent than lust, his baby blue eyes swimming with conflict. 

“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you, Steve.” She lifted her head off the mattress and pressed her lips to his, mostly to ease her own nerves rather than his. While they were kissing, Steve’s hand dipped between them to position himself at her entrance, sliding the tip into her tight heat. He resisted the urge to moan at the feeling, opting to focus his attention on her comfort. Y/N had hissed slightly at the feeling, but didn’t break away from the kiss seeing as it was the only thing that was truly distracting her from the pain. Steve’s thumb began circling around her clit as he continued to thrust inch by inch, sheathing himself inside her wet heat entirely. He let her adjust to the foreign feeling before pulling away from the kiss and moving his hips slightly, watching her face the entire time. 

Her eyes were pinched shut and her eyebrows furrowed. Her nostrils flared as she regulated her breathing, slowly but surely relaxing at the feeling of Steve inside her. 

“More.” She whispered as Steve slid out of her pussy almost entirely. He snapped his hips forward and watched as her eyes fluttered and her jaw dropped into a perfect ‘O’. He kept a slow but steady pace, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of just how tight she was while keeping an ear open for any sounds of discomfort. His strokes hit that spot deep inside her pussy, causing her legs to shake and wrap around Steve’s waist, a loud moan falling from her lips. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Steve groaned as he picked up his pace slightly, not wanting to break Y/N her first night. Y/N was too blissed out to scold Steve for his language, but it truly seemed as if neither of them cared in the moment. Her fingers wrapped around his biceps, nails digging sharply into his skin which Steve took as a sign to speed up once more. The headboard to Y/N’s bed started knocking against the wall as Steve’s brutal pace took her breath away. 

“Fuck, Steve, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Y/N yelled, her head thrown back in pleasure and bliss. The super soldier took advantage of how open her neck was and splayed his warm lips across the column of her throat, kissing and sucking until a very dark mark was left behind. He trailed hickeys and love bites down to her chest, scattering the marks wherever his lips could reach. His fingers dug into her hips as his pace seemed to get ever faster. 

Before she had a moment to process how good she was feeling, Y/N was flipped onto her stomach and one of Steve’s hands wrapped in her hair, pulling slightly. She moaned at the new sensation as Steve growled in his throat. The hand that wasn’t in her hair wrapped around her waist, allowing his fingers to toy with her clit. Another moan filled the air, along with the sinful sounds her pussy was making. Steve was dizzy; the feeling of being inside her, the wonderful sounds she was making, the smell of sex in the air all contributed to his rising orgasm. 

“Fuck, Steve! I-I’m close!” Y/N whined from underneath him, her face buried in her pillow and her fingers gripping the sheets tightly. 

“Me too. Let go, Y/N. I’ve got you, baby.” Steve muttered close to her ear, his hips stuttering slightly. With Steve’s permission, Y/N’s body started to shake as her climax washed over her. Steve’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as she clenched around his dick, the super soldier not being able to hold back his own climax as he pumped her full of his cum. They both collapsed onto the bed, panting. 

Y/N seemed to come to her senses faster than Steve did as she ran to the bathroom to clean herself up. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and the girl she saw was almost unrecognizable: dark purple bruises covered her pale skin, her hair was a tangled mess, and there were noticeable marks from where Steve’s hand had been on her hip. A strange quietness took over her mind and it was almost like her body was running on autopilot. She grabbed her bathrobe off the hook by the door and secured it around her body tightly, hiding the marks that she knew she should cherish. Once she entered her room, Steve was completely dressed again and sitting on the edge of her bed. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, worry very prominent in his voice. With a nod, Y/N sat next to him, but opted to keep some space between them. She didn’t regret what happened, she just needed time to process it. “Can I have a color?” 

“Yellow, but it’ll be red if you ask again, Steve.” He smiled sadly and stood, leaving his place on the bed to kneel in front of Y/N. Her eyes seemed dull, but bright at the same time. Her gaze was everywhere except Steve, and once again she was chewing on her bottom lip. Steve reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear, kissing her forehead when he stood up again. 

“We can talk about this later, if you want to. Just know that you’re not going to lose me because of this, okay?” Y/N nodded. Steve lifted her chin and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. It was soft and timid, almost as if he believed he was overstepping his boundaries. “Text me if you need anything. I’ll be back in a week; two at the latest. We can talk then.” With one more soft kiss to her lips, Steve left. 

She wasn’t a virgin anymore, and she owed that to her friends. She just couldn’t understand why she felt so guilty about it. 

Steve had just gotten back to his apartment by the time he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. His heart almost broke at the text message in front of him:

“Come back. I need you.”

[yikestripes]

Under the Mistletoe

request: Hey, I've got a Spence request! It's Christmas at the FBI, and the team has done Secret Santa, and you got Spencer, your best friend who you have fancied since you started at the FBI 5 years ago. You all go to Rossi's to spend the evening and morning, so you can all drink & not drive home. After presents and a few drinks, you and Spence end up under the mistletoe where he declares his feelings in front of the whole team, who encouraged him to tell you how he feels, before you arrived to the party

a/n: i didn’t expect to write this much, it was 7 pages on google docs. i am pretty proud of this tho.

warnings: FLUFF

word count: 3.6k

You looked around at the lights and garland that had adorned the bullpen as you entered the BAU for the first time after arriving home from the case. You grinned from ear to ear like a child as you took in the sight. Spencer was right behind you, pausing to take in the sight beside you. He looked down at you, still in awe, and smiled. You looked so beautiful to him under all those shining lights, and you just looked happier than you had in recent weeks. Christmas was usually tough for you anyway, and this year was no exception. Nonetheless, you persevered. Rossi had been planning a BAU Christmas party for a little bit over a month, with the help of you and Garcia, to make it the most magical Christmas any of you had had in a pretty long time. Needless to say, getting home from the case was more exciting than it usually was.

You tugged your go bag back to your desk and plopped down in your chair, rubbing your eyes. It was around 7pm and you all were going to Rossi’s right from the office to start the festivities. Knowing you wouldn’t be driving home, you had a second go bag packed and ready in your car, along with Spencer’s since you guys had carpooled. When you started at the BAU around 5 years ago, you and Spencer instantly became best friends. Granted, it took him a long time to really break out of his shell of awkwardness, but even then he was very comfortable around you. It was something about you that really made him feel, for lack of a better word, special. Not in the way that he was typically treated for being a genius, but just for being Spencer. That’s what Spencer loved most about you- the way you admired him for just being him. Not because he was a child prodigy and not because he was a genius. He was just Spencer.

Not to mention you always let him ramble and spill facts without ever telling him to shut up, or even interrupting him. Nevertheless, you quickly became very close, especially when you learned your apartment was right down the street from his. That’s when you two started carpooling to the office together. You always stopped at the local coffee shop or Starbucks to feed your coffee addictions, and went home around the same time every night. Spencer always made sure you made it inside safe, and vice versa. The funny thing was, for as incredible as you both were at your jobs as profilers for the BAU, neither of you had the faintest idea that you were in love with each other. Everyone in the entire building knew except for you two. Even Hotch was rooting for you two to get together.

“Ready to go, Spence?” You asked, shooting him a huge grin. He grins back and nods, throwing his bag over his head like he always did. You followed him out the door and to your car and drove yourselves to Rossi’s mansion. The ride was relatively quiet, Spencer had whipped out the book he started on the plane because he absolutely had to know how it ended, and of course he could finish it before you made it to Rossi’s.

“Did you do the secret santa?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Yep.” You smiled to yourself. You actually got Spencer, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Regardless of whether you had gotten him for secret santa, you were planning to get him a little something anyway. Actually, a few things. You wracked your brain for a few days, wondering what Dr. Spencer Reid would like that he didn’t already have. Of course, you started with a giftcard to his favorite bookstore, along with the newest edition of his favorite collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories. You also got him a giftcard to Starbucks, to make up for all the times he’d paid for your coffee, despite your protests. You made him your famous chocolate chip cookies and your favorite thing? The Halloween Christmas sweater you’d found and KNEW you had to get it for him. He never understood the point of an ugly Christmas sweater, so you figured you would get one that celebrates his favorite holiday with the edition of it celebrating Christmas. You could already see the look on his face when he opened his gifts later that night.

“Hey Spence, can you help me?” Spencer only brought a gift bag with the edition of his overnight bag, meanwhile you had a couple bags, along with two bottles of wine for Rossi and your own overnight bag. He grabbed your overnight bag and a bottle of wine and headed up to the door with you following behind, praying you didn’t slip on any ice.

You made it to the door unscathed, being greeted by Prentiss who was already a glass of wine deep.

“It’s party time!” She said upon opening the door. You and Spencer grinned and followed her inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Everyone was already there, starting on the spiked eggnog drinks without you guys.

“Hey, I told you guys to wait for us!” You whined as you set your presents underneath Rossi’s massive Christmas tree. The others looked away and took sips of their drinks, earning a small glare from you. You opted to start with a glass of white wine and escalate from there later. You took a long sip as you sat along the counter beside JJ. She held up her hands in mock defense.

“I told them they should wait but no one ever listens to me!” You giggled a little and patted JJ’s shoulder sympathetically.

“I hear you. They never listen to me either,” You said, shooting a look in Spencer’s direction in particular. As if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned around and looked at you. When he saw you were already looking at him, he raised his eyebrows in question. You shook your head and he shrugged, returning to his conversation with Morgan and Rossi. Penelope was doing peppermint vodka shots with Prentiss while Hotch watched, somewhat amused as Emily started choking on hers. You smiled as you watched your friends ease into the party so quickly after such a long case. It warmed your heart to see them relaxed.

“I don’t know, Rossi. What if it ruins our friendship?” Reid asked, his voice small. He only softened his voice like that when he was unsure of himself.

“Look, kid. I may be old, but I do have eyes. She loves you, Reid.” Rossi said.

“Trust me, Pretty Boy. Everyone here sees the way you look at each other.” Derek agreed, taking a sip of his beer.

Spencer chewed on his lip thoughtfully when he felt eyes on his back. He turned back to see you staring at him, where you began giggling with JJ. Spencer raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “Did you need me?” and you shook your head. He shrugged and turned back to Rossi, who was smirking. He shared a look with Derek and walked over to Hotch, who was now forcing Emily to drink more water.

“Like I said, trust me.” Derek said quietly as he left Spencer in the center of the kitchen to his thoughts. They were quickly interrupted as Rossi announced it was time for presents. Spencer grinned, this was what he was the most excited for. He had you for secret santa and he knew he really nailed his gift to you this year. He knew you better than anyone, and thanks to his eidetic memory, he knew everything that you had mentioned in passing were small things that you wanted. Including the necklace that you’d pointed out in the jewelry shop down the street from your apartments 8 months and 29 days ago, on your way to Starbucks. You gazed at it longingly every single time you passed by, but never could justify purchasing it for yourself.

“Alright kiddos, gather round.” Rossi said. Everyone made their way to the couches and sat as you helped to hand out presents.

“Morgan, these are yours. No one open anything until everyone has a gift!” You stared at Emily in particular, who grinned sheepishly. Hotch placed a hand on her leg and smiled at her, knowingly.

“JJ, this bag is yours. Hmm, Garcia this one is yours, Emily, Hotch,” You handed them out one by one. “Ah, here’s yours Spence.” You hauled a couple bags over, and his eyes widened at the sheer amount of stuff adorning both bags.

“Here’s yours, Rossi, and I just found mine!” You sat on the floor and crossed your legs out in front of you.

“Alright, how are we doing this?” Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do we all just open at the same time orrr…”

“No, someone can go first and each person who has the person opening goes next, makes sense?” Everyone nodded. “Rossi, you can go first since you oh so graciously hosted. And are letting us stay the night.” You added. Everyone laughed as David shook his head, quickly tearing into the bright wrapping paper. His jaw dropped slightly as he pulled out a box of cigars.

“I told you before, my dad was a cigar aficionado. I know what you like, Rossi.” Derek winked. Rossi rose and said a few words of excitement in Italian before kissing Derek on both cheeks and pulling him into a hug. He laughed and clapped Rossi on the back before returning to his seat, and digging into the gift bag in front of him.

“Alright, I see you secret santa!” Derek pulled out a Chicago Cubs baseball jersey, along with a few other baseball related things.

“I had to delve a bit more into the sports world than I’m used to, but i’m really glad you like it.” Emily smiled. He pulled her into a tight hug.

“Okay Em, you can go.” You wiggled your eyebrows as she fake glared, ripping her wrapping paper to shreds.

“Oh my God! I love it!” Prentiss held up a couple different books by her favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut. JJ grinned.

“Look deeper.” Prentiss dug deeper into the bag and pulled out a beautiful set of hand painted wine glasses.

“JJ, these are beautiful!” Prentiss gave her a hug and started taking them out of the box and passing them around to those that were drinking wine, or planned on it later. She disappeared into the kitchen to clean the glasses and fetch the wine.

“Alright JJ, it’s your turn!” You were especially eager for this one, knowing that Spencer would be coming up soon and you could finally see the look on his face. You’d had the gifts in your possession for 2 weeks and his turn could not come fast enough.

Finally, it was Spencer’s turn. You watched as he tore into the neatly wrapped gift box first. You knew he’d open that one first because it was the biggest box. He pulled the sweater out, seemingly confused at first, before it dawned on him.

“Oh my God, it’s a Halloween Christmas sweater! I love it!” He grinned and took off his blazer, revealing the tshirt beneath. He threw the sweater overtop and pulled the sleeves to his elbows, grinning with the joy of a little kid. He was so excited that he almost forgot about the other presents on the floor beside him. He finally made eye contact with you and you indicated he had other things to open. He sat back down, a slight blush crossing his cheeks as he opened the book and gift cards.

“I love everything, thank you so so much, (Y/N).” He said, the look on his face screaming genuine happiness and excitement.

“Actually, there’s one more thing.” He furrowed his eyebrows as you snuck around behind the tray, retrieving the tin of cookies you’d hidden back there, fully knowing the vulchers you called friends would find them if you put them anywhere else. Spencer’s jaw dropped.

“Are those your famous chocolate chip cookies?!” He asked, incredulous. He knew they were incredibly special to you, which is why it was so rare for you to make them. You grinned and nodded. He jumped up, threw the tin on the sofa, and pulled you into a hug. He picked you up a little, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

“Thank you endlessly, (Y/N).” He said quietly, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. A deep blush rose to your cheeks. As you both pulled away, you noticed Spencer was blushing like crazy too.

“I guess that leaves me!” You said, noticing everyone else had opened their presents. You grinned as you dug into yours, pulling out a Starbucks gift card, a new Starbucks tumbler to replace the one you broke a few weeks back, the anniversary copy of your favorite book, (Y/F/B), and finally, a small, blue velvet box was crammed at the very bottom of the back. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and opened it with a gasp. You snapped your head up to meet Spencer, who was grinning at you sheepishly, his cheeks tinted bright pink.

“I-I knew you’ve been l-looking at that necklace for months, so….” He trailed off, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t like it I can take it back,” You stared at him in awe as tears threatened.

“Spence,” You said breathlessly, touching the necklace with a careful finger. “I love it, thank you so much.” Everyone in the room shared a look, fully knowing what was coming. You and Spencer were so busy with each other, that you didn’t notice when Rossi silently ushered the others out of the room and into the hallway to watch.

“Would you mind putting it on for me?” You asked quietly, handing Spencer the small box with a shaky hand.

“S-sure.” Spencer silently cursed his shaking hands as he fiddled with the clasp for a minute, before it clicked into place.

“Thanks.” You glanced up at the tall, lanky Doctor, when something a few feet above his head caught your eye. You gestured up at it, catching his attention.

“Mistletoe.” You said quietly. You got up on your tiptoes and placed a warm, soft kiss on his cheek, earning a blush from Spencer. A weird look came across his face when he suddenly grabbed your face, and crashed his lips into yours. You immediately melted into both Spencer and the kiss, forgetting where you were for just a moment as it was just you and him, alone together.

You pulled apart for air breathlessly, as you looked into the face of what used to be your best friend. That barrier had absolutely been shattered, but when Spencer broke out into a small, shy smile, you knew that it was meant to be that way.

“I…. I’ve been in love with you for the last 4 and a half years. It didn’t take me long at all to realize that you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but when I realized how smart, funny, and caring you were? I knew it was over for me. I didn’t say anything for the last few years because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” You whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, and smiled a little more.

“Losing you.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not ever.” You shook your head defiantly, and placed another kiss on his lips. This one was much quicker, but filled with all the love and words that hadn’t been spoken until just now, and any words you could ever hope to say. Your friends cheered from beside you as you buried your head in Spencer’s chest, embarrassed. There were rounds and rounds of congratulations, told you so’s, and even a few bets had apparently been placed. You glared as they exchanged money and sheepish grins. You shook your head as you followed your friends into Rossi’s kitchen to continue getting your drink on.

**

It had been a few hours since Spencer’s confession, and to celebrate, you had accidentally had a few drinks too many. You started playing a drinking game with Derek and Prentiss that you had ceremoniously named “Beerio Cart”, and played several rounds since you were the champion. You grinned proudly, Spencer placing a plastic crown you all had found the last time you were at Rossi’s on top of your head, much to Derek’s ego’s chagrin. Following that, you had a few shots with Hotch and Garcia, followed up by the peppermint schnapps Penelope had prepared. Needless to say, the entire team was pretty hammered. IN the last few hours of the evening, Spencer had opted to drink more water and sober himself up slightly in order to save himself the pain the following day.

Rossi was on the same page as Spencer, not to mention the older Italian man’s tolerance was that of a bull. He could probably drink an entire bottle of wine and still be under the legal limit. He had retired to bed around 12:30am, fully aware that he was going to have to cook breakfast for his hungover “children” the following morning. You, Spencer, Prentiss, and Derek were the last ones awake, and now Derek had decided to retire to bed.

“Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.” Derek slurred, tripping up the stairs a little bit. It was the last round of Beerio Cart with Prentiss and Hotch that had done Derek in. Hotch had gone to bed shortly after that, Emily promising him that she would be up shortly after. That was 2 hours ago, and Emily was still downstairs with you and Spencer. She looked around, seeing that everyone except you two had gone to bed, and you were quickly crashing. She shrugged and stumbled up the stairs, managing to make it to her room with Hotch relatively easily. At least it was the first one at the top of the stairs.

Spencer turned his attention to you, and smiled warmly. You were starting to fall asleep standing up. He’d seen you do this a few times before, and usually was able to coax you into either laying your head on his lap if you were on the jet or on his shoulder if you were going to be in the SUVs.

“(Y/N), are you ready to go to bed?” You opened your eyes slowly and blinked, processing his question slowly. You nodded and rubbed your eyes, smearing your makeup all over the place. Spencer smiled a little and guided you to your room, sitting you on the bed.

“Close your eyes, love.” You complied quietly as Spencer gently wiped your makeup off. He tucked you into your bed and placed a kiss on your forehead, turning to leave. He felt you grab his wrist and turned around, caught totally off guard. You were sitting up, wearing your best puppy dog eyes face.

“Stay with me?” You said in such a soft voice, that made Spencer’s heart melt. He glanced at the door, then back at you, where you were still pleading with your eyes. He gave in, took off his shoes, and climbed in beside you. He wrapped an arm around you and you laid on his chest, quickly falling asleep to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat.

***

You began stirring when the smell of pancakes wafted up the stairs and into your room. You scrunched your face at the harshness of the light peaking through the windows, and felt the onset headache.

“Fuck.” You whispered, rubbing your temples.

“Good morning.” Spencer said quietly beside you, sitting up to lean on his elbow. He donned his glasses and his scruff was already growing slightly.

“Good morning, Spence.” You said, your voice still raspy. You looked at the bedside table in search of your phone and saw two ibuprofen tablets and some water. You gulped them down gratefully and immediately felt relief.

You and Spencer made your way downstairs, greeting by the sight of your hungover friends, and Rossi, who was flipping pancakes and bacon at the stove.

“Oh look who decided to join us! The reigning Beerio Cart champion.” He smirked. You saw the crown sitting on the kitchen table and you grabbed it, placing it on top of your head.

“I stand by that wholeheartedly.” You said, folding your arms over your chest. Rossi shrugged.

“If you say so, kid.” You took a seat beside Hotch, who was rubbing circles into Emily’s back on the other side of him. She looked about as bad as you felt, and you instantly hoped you didn’t look like that, especially not in front of Spencer. As if he could hear your thoughts, he smiled at you, and you smiled back. You glanced down at his lips and flicked your eyes back up to meet his, when he closed the gap and pecked you on the lips. You grinned and a blush rose to your cheeks, as you munched on the pancakes Rossi set before you.

“Please tell me you two aren’t always going to be that sickeningly adorable.” Garcia said, wearing her sunglasses inside. You laughed a little, feeling a pain shoot through your brain. You groaned slightly, busying yourself with your pancakes. Spencer made you a bloody mary, spouted out facts about the origin of the drink, the useful properties of it, and anything else he’d known about it. You listened as you sipped, starting to feel just a little bit better. Whether that was with the help of the bloody mary or Spencer, you already knew the answer.

It was Spencer.

[kittymsmithwritesstuff]

Legends react to being hit on by another legend? could be interesting! sorry for sending two i just rlly want u to make more 💕

Hey, sorry for being so long to reply! Because it would be a lot to do a reaction for everyone, and I feel the reactions would be extremely different depending on who hits on/flirts with who, I narrowed it down by tackling what I would probably consider my personal major ships, sort of in order by which ones I got into first; miragehound was definitely the first, though the last four kind of all came on in S7 with the invention of my newest coping mechanism, Mary “Horizon” Somers.

This also turned into more of a “Legends react to other legends hitting on/flirting with them/asking them out on a date”, just kind of whatever I guess. Ships listed below, ship names applied to the paragraphs following:

MiragexBloodhound, CryptoxWraith, WattsonxMirage, HorizonxBangalore, HorizonxLoba, RampartxLifeline.

Anyhow, here we go.

Miragehound – Mirage x Bloodhound

Bloodhound: It’s probably happened before in a joking manner, because it’s Mirage, but when they realize he actually means it this time they’re totally caught off guard. If they’re wearing their mask, they are blushing like the dickens underneath it and smiling because he’s sweet and kind of funny about it, and they really don’t get that often. If they are not wearing a mask, they are trying so hard to not let it show, except they’re grinning like a dork so RIP Hound, Mirage won this one (and also probably your heart).

Mirage: Just a bumbling mess. Bloodhound was probably kind of blunt but also weirdly poetic because They’re Just Like That, probably compared him to the sun or something and he stumbled out a “thank you” and then was like, “your goggles, goggles they’re, you know they’re hot-er-cool-er-I like – your face.” If he hasn’t seen their actual face, he’ll try and add that he’d like to see their face to try and flirt back and then wish he could go consult his 14 year old self, because that guy got two girlfriends at one point and he could really use his advice right about now.

Cryptaith – Crypto x Wraith

Wraith: She wouldn’t know she’d been hit on until an hour later, because Crypto’s version of hitting on someone is probably, “your hair looks nice” or “you’re really good with that knife”. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t know for sure until he offered her some of his lunch, since the man is pretty well known to think everyone is going to poison him. Frankly, she’s quietly flattered.

Crypto: Error 404: brain not found. Issue: Pretty girl flirted with me. Initiate shutdown and embarrassment protocols immediately. This will prompt an immediate system override, he will forget how to talk, trip over something, squeak and run away with his head down in his collar like a turtle. Unfortunately (read: very fortunately) for him, Wraith thinks it is adorable and will probably proceed to flirt with him more and forever.

Wattage – Wattson x Mirage

Wattson: Surprisingly easygoing about it, a little flustered but manages to say something right back with a grin. She definitely did not practice flirting in her head. Never. She will later tell her Nessie or Horizon all about it.

Mirage: Not quite as nervous as with BH but he does bumble a little because Wattson got him when he least expected it. Probably teased him about his equipment not being waterproof and he went on the defense, citing all the alterations he’s made and she said something like, “pretty and smart? I like that.” He got shot while trying to think what to say back.

Horizonlore – Horizon x Bangalore

Bangalore: So, this woman is oblivious. I’m talkin’ brick wall oblivious. No goggles underwater blind. Driving in a blizzard with your lights off so you miss every sign along the way. Horizon hits on her blatantly. Several times. Horizon isn’t sure she’s into women, Loba promises she is. By all calculations, saying, “you’re so pretty I could kiss ye right here in the dropship, lass” should instigate something else than, “oh, uh, thank you! I like you’re hair.” It’s the day Horizon finally says, “you look great in those jeans, want to go on a romantic date?” That Bangalore realizes and has to sit down and contemplate how much of a dumbass she is.

Horizon: Significantly less oblivious, it only took her about three days to realize Bangalore had been hitting on her. She now perks up like a puppy every time, especially since most of what Bangalore says is (sometimes revamped) Shakespeare quotes. Yeah, they’re both romantics.

Horizonhound – Horizon x Bloodhound

Hound: Pretty girls make them stupid. She says anything that can be interpreted as flirtation and they’re hardly much better than Mirage, though they’ll say something poetic and kind of pretty back regardless, thanks to a little thing called “random immeasurable luck”. Having the favor of the gods helps, too.

Horizon: So Bloodhound doesn’t so much hit on Horizon as perform a complicated mating ritual that begins with bringing her small gifts and trinkets and then evolves into book exchanges and evolves from there into actual conversations. Then that, finally, evolves into them growing a pair and, while watching her do something mundane, casually state, “you know, I have recently realized I might have a thing for redheads, felagi.” They are not prepared when she states that she has a thing for blondes and, “I’d like to ken if you’re part of the rule or an exception at, say, at 7?” Because she has been waiting for them to say something like that and takes great satisfaction in practically knowing they’re blushing under their mask.

StarStealers – Horizon x Loba

Horizon: The first few times she didn’t think anything of it, since Loba is just like that. But then there’s a time after a game that Loba says, “I’d like to see you around a lot more often, beautiful,” and tucks a piece of paper in Horizon’s hand with her phone number on it. Horizon probably covers her mouth while giggling like a schoolgirl because it’s fucking Loba and she would have never guessed she’d be interested in her but fuck is she not complaining. Smart pretty women are kind of her ideal.

Loba: So, Horizon is such a sweetheart and whatever method she chooses is probably a little dorky, and maybe a bit clumsy being she’s rather out of practice but will probably involve a love note with a really bad science pun on it because she asked Wattson for advice. Whatever it is, Loba is absolutely head over heels. If she’s in the dropship or otherwise visible, she just slowly grins. If she’s alone she bounces in her seat and might even giggle, just a little bit. She keeps a copy of the note taped to the inside of her Apex locker like a lovestruck teenager (this is, provided, they end up in a relationship).

Rampline – Rampart x Lifeline

Lifeline: Rampart tends to go big or go home. After spending approximately 2 weeks debating with herself internally, Rampart just waltzes right up to her, leans on the doorframe or something and says, “do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?” Lifeline would think she was joking and laugh, wave her off. Then Rampart would sort of panic and say, “no, I mean, like, you wanna like, uh, I like you but in a gay way.” Lifeline then smiles brightly and arranges a date on the spot, much to Rampart’s relief.

Rampart: They’ve been hanging out a bit and are chilling when Lifeline just sorta says, “hey, I think yuh really pretty, you know?” And Rampart, with all the grace of a donkey on roller skates, says, “that’s neat” while her voice cracks like a thirteen-year-old boy’s. Somehow Lifeline’s laugh banishes most of the embarrassment, and she even manages to flirt back without stuttering.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

for anyone curious, my newest book is about the Salem Witch Trials! it’s at the point of view of Mary Warren and how she went through trials, ultimately ending in her downward spiral into madness as the trials deteriorate her mental health. it’s called Servant of Evil.

here’s the first segment of the first chapter!

— — —

She was gathering crops the first day she caught wind of the hysteria.

It was late January and sunny, the last warm day in what would soon feel like forever. The sickle in her hand was wickedly sharp and gleaming in pale yellow light, and the stalks of the corn she was cutting away were rough and sharp beneath calloused fingers. Already, the skin on her hands was shredded, oozing ruby droplets of blood and staining bright green stems. Her legs ached from crouching in the dirt, muscles locked up and tense. Somewhere beyond the pillars of corn stretched out before her, she could hear her master’s children talking in high-pitched voices, dogs barking, and horses neighing. Even closer than that, however, she could hear heavy footsteps tramping through the field, and she knew the owner of this land would not enjoy such galumphing through his crops. But she also knew that the one who appeared through the stalks wouldn’t care much for the fiery point of John Proctor’s scorn.

“Something weirdish is going on in Salem.”

Without looking up, Mary Warren answered the unexpected visitor, “Something is always going on in Salem.”

That much was true, at least right now. Salem was a town of rich trade and sea salt, characterized by a sparkling harbor that was bested only by Boston’s and a habit of fighting with itself. For years, Salem had been split between two forces: the nobles up in Salem Town and the farmers down in Salem Village. The two territories were never not fighting with each other; they were always mad about something the other did, and it was easy to lose track of who hated who and for what reason. Salem Village didn’t like the control Salem Town held over it, while Salem Town was annoyed by Salem Village thinking it was its own settlement, but they all detested the British church, which was mutual. Salem Town often pulled men from Salem Village to be a part of the national guard, which made Salem Village nervous because then they would have nobody to protect them, and Indian attacks were a regular fear throughout the civilization. Aside from its harbor, the other thing Salem had to owe to its popularity was its unfortunate position in front of frequent ambushes. And if it didn’t suffer ambushes first-hand, then it suffered ambushes through the survivors of such raids, many of which populated the city and would soon help with the grisly events that turned the community over on its head.

But the only other thing Salem Village and Salem Town could agree on was that the Indians were an issue. Unfortunately, that was where agreements ended and arguments began- Salem Town wanted more men to train, promising protection; Salem Village refusing, saying they knew how Salem Town lied, and if they didn’t, then they only saved them because of their bountiful trade and not because they were their people. It wouldn’t be long until the yelling broke out, testaments from the Bible were quoted, and grown men argued like two children fighting over who was their parents’ favorite kid.

However, Salem as a whole had fallen silent recently. Things were peaceful. It was as though a grace period were opening up before them all--or, perhaps, it was actually ending.

Except for right now, in the Proctor corn field, of course. Because her visitor would only bring silence if she were dead, and she had proved to be too slippery for death’s fingers three times over after surviving several Indian attacks throughout her young life.

“This is different.”

Wiping a sagging green sleeve over her damp brow, Mary looked up and squinted through sweat and sun to look at none other than the Putnam’s maid, Mercy Lewis.

Mercy was a fine example of everything the Puritans didn’t want. Despite her name’s sake, she was stubborn, brash, and spitfire, though she was smart enough to never act in such a way in front of the church. And she was, indeed, smart. She was more clever than a fox, easily outwitting several situations despite the minimal education women had in their lifetime. The only thing she was merciful to was her younger cousin, Ann Putnam Jr. Her parents were better off naming her Big, Loud, and Vulgar.

Mercy was nineteen-years-old, two years older than Mary, and built like a small bear. She was short, compact, and sinewy, her muscles and joints well-honed from rough maid work. Her temper was black and her teeth were sharp. Her curly dark brown hair was tucked up in her blindingly white bonnet, and she was dressed in a nondescript dress of purple. Storm cloud grey eyes bore down on Mary with bright amusement.

The two of them met three years ago in Elizabeth Proctor’s tavern. Mary had been struggling to wipe away a sticky stain on one of the tables; Mercy was looking for fresh meat. They both were in the right place at the right time.

Mary hadn’t heard her come in. It was as though the shadows of the tavern itself had unfolded the sixteen-year-old before her because she was suddenly there, towering over the front of the table, and Mary ended up spilling the bowl of soapy water she was using all over herself upon noticing her.

“My, are you jumpy,” the strange girl had observed, peering over the edge of the table. She didn’t offer Mary her help or even an apology. Mary didn’t ask for one. “Were your parents murdered by savages, too?”

“What?”

“Ooo, no, then. Got it.”

Mary blinked up at her for a moment, then carefully got up out of the sudsy puddle and retrieved a dry rag to clean up the newest mess. The entire time, the strange girl watched her as she dripped droplets and beads of white soap from the bottom of her old lavender dress.

“Can I help you?” Mary asked as she got back down on her hands and knees to clean the floor.

“Oh, no,” the strange girl answered. “I just came to say hello. Introduce myself. You work for the Proctor’s, yeah?”

“Yes,” Mary nodded.

“Interesting, interesting. I work for the Putnam’s. Thomas is my cousin, actually.”

Mary nodded again. She looked back down at the puddle, trying to focus on that. The girl didn’t move.

“Mercy.”

Mary looked back up again. She blinked. The strange girl blinked back. Was this a game?

“Pity.”

The girl stared at her for a moment, then burst into loud laughter that seemed to shake the walls. Mary was startled; she had never heard anyone laugh so hard in her entire life. Especially in a town as strict as Sakem.

“No, that’s my name,” the girl said after calming down. “My name is Mercy. Mercy Lewis.”

“Oh,” Mary’s ears heated up. “Right. Your parents were feeling pretty creative, weren’t they?”

Another bout of laughter. “Yes. Yes, they were.” She squinted at her. “And you are?”

“Mary. Mary Warren.”

“Well, Mary ‘Pity’ Warren, I think we are going to be very good friends.”

And she was right.

Mercy, as menacing as she could be, made life in Salem a lot more bearable, especially when Proctor’s whip frequently began lapping at Mary’s bare back. Together, they formed a cohort of sorts, sneaking away into the woods with other village girls, hiding away from the Lord’s watchful eyes to discuss the most sinful of things.

And today, Mercy wanted to carry on with their long-running traditions.

“Different in what way?” Mary asked.

Mercy rolled her eyes. She kicked a cloud of dust at Mary, and Mary sputtered, nearly falling backwards into the corn.

“Different-different,” Mercy answered. “Something is wrong with Abigail. Betty, too, I hear. We’re gonna go up to the Reverend’s house and see them. They’re ill, you know?”

“No,” Mary shook her head. “Mister Proctor didn’t tell me anything. They’re sick?”

“Yeah. Real sick. Ain’t wakin’ up. The Reverend has been throwin’ a huge fit over them.” Mercy explained, “I’m surprised you never heard him howlin’!” Then, doing a horrible imitation of Reverend Samuel Parris’s voice, she wailed, “Oh Betty, Betty! Wake, my sweet daughter! Wake! Why won’t you wake?!”

She clung to Mary’s arm dramatically. “God! God! Why have you forsaken me?! What have you struck my little girls with?!”

Mary couldn’t help but giggle softly. Still, her mind was made up on the whole ordeal.

“Tell them my pardons and prayers,” she said, grabbing the fallen sickle. “My master said I gotta tend to the crops. Then I can go to town. But I am not spendin’ my free time meddlin’ in someone else’s affairs.”

Mercy groaned loudly and snatched the sickle away from Mary, making her yelp.

“Live a little, will ya? Let’s go see poor Abby and Betty!” Mercy urged. “To Hell with your master right now. You can’t let him lead you around by a leash all the time. Deal with the consequences later. Let’s go!”

Mary stared into the older girl’s eyes and then sighed, giving in. She stood up- Mercy was taller than her, as she always had been. “Lead on, Mercy.”

Mercy brightened.

Together, the two of them snuck out of the Proctor property, careful as to not get caught by one of the many children roaming the plantation.

Technically, the Proctor’s had eighteen children, though four were dead and eleven were brought forth by two different women, both of which had also passed over the seasons. The only living child of John Proctor’s first wife, Martha Giddens, was Benjamin, a tall, lanky man who could never seem to grow a beard, yet had hair down to his shoulders. He was thirty-three and didn’t talk to Mary very often, but when he did, he greatly critiqued her work in the field. That farm was his pride and joy, and it was a challenge to not roll her eyes when he would go on about the importance of their crops and proper plant care.

Elizabeth II was the second oldest at twenty-nine, and helped Elizabeth Proctor run the tavern with her other siblings: Martha IV, twenty-six (the first two Martha’s had died when they were both infants, along with the woman they were named after); Mary II, twenty-five; John II, twenty-four; Mary III, twenty-three; and Thorndike, twenty. Why Proctor decided to have TWO daughters named Mary was beyond Mary herself, but it wasn’t uncommon for things to become confusing when their name was shouted for whatever reason.

Elizabeth Proctor’s children stayed on the farm, helping clean and take care of the livestock: William, eighteen; Sarah fifteen; Samuel, seven; Elisha, five; Abigail, three; and Joseph, one. Mercy often made jokes that Elizabeth had obviously been the one to name the kids, as they were actually creative and not repeating several times over.

But with so many watchmen on the property, Mary was surprised about how easy it was to slip away unseen.

The road was loose and crunched loudly beneath their footfalls. Mercy kept kicking a rock, and Mary watched it bounce across the ground.

“So, what’s wrong with Betty and Abby?” Mary asked.

Mercy smirked widely.

“There be witches about, Mary.”

[gingerteaonthetardis]

📚 ✨ bookworm ask ✨ 📚

i was tagged by @saecookie to answer some questions about my favorite thing... books! so, here we go...

how many books are too many books in a series?

honestly, i like a good old fashioned trilogy. i've never been a huge fan of those sprawling series that go on indefinitely; that usually feels like a money grab to me. self-contained stories with a distinct beginning and end are my jam!

how do you feel about cliffhangers?

i'm ambivalent, i guess. it depends on the story and how much i've enjoyed it overall—that, more than any kind of dramatic cliffhanger, is what will push me into reading the next book. if i'm not super engaged, though, a big cliffhanger will just irritate me.

hardback or paperback?

hardbacks for the bookshelves, paperbacks for everyday use. i have a mixture of both. certain books that are important to me, i'll definitely get in hardback, though.

least favorite book?

probably any of the ones i had to read for school. i always hated the epic poems—beowulf, in particular, bored the absolute hell out of me. stories about men usually do. but hey, maybe i should give it a chance as an adult?

love triangles, yes or no?

no love triangles, only triads. if a character has two hands, there's nothing wrong with a partner for each of them. but triangles for the sake of drama? please, no.

the most recent book you just couldn’t finish?

you know, i've only just recently started allowing myself to not finish books, even ones i absolutely hated reading. but it occurred to me that life is short and i don't owe anyone my attention, so now i'm genuinely pretty picky. anyway, i recently abandoned a c*urt of th*rns and r*ses after about two chapters. i tried it because it got so popular, but that shit was really not for me. ugh.

a book you’re currently reading?

on beauty by zadie smith. so far, i'm really enjoying it—she has a talent for creating distinct character voices.

oldest book you’ve read?

the epic of gilgamesh, probably.

newest book you’ve read?

iron widow by xiran jay zhao, which is a fun read that just came out this year. easy to get through, but still dramatic and angsty and engaging. plus: polyamory! i highly recommend it, particularly in audiobook form.

favourite author?

jane austen is obviously up there, because she inspired my childhood love of reading. robin wall kimmerer is up there, since she's written the books that have changed me most as a person. oh, god, and ursula k. le guin. her books inspire me every time i read them, without fail. and n. k. jemisin is definitely a favorite, too; she understands how to build worlds you can get completely lost in. okay, i'm stopping—

buying books or borrowing books?

both! i buy books i know i'll love or that i've read before and borrow the rest from the library. i wish my friends lived closer, though, so we could do book exchanges; i love lending people books.

a book you dislike that everyone else seems to love?

the g*ldfinch. though, to be fair, i didn't finish it. this book was actually what motivated me to stop forcing myself to read stuff i didn't like! i couldn't take the constant, churning anxiety. and i get bored of reading books about boring rich people, which is her m.o. the secret hist*ry was enough for me, thanks.

bookmarks or dog ears?

bookmarks for hardbacks (though a "bookmark" can be a receipt or scrap paper or a tissue, depending on whether my trusty aragorn bookmark—with the little tassle and replica of the one ring hanging off the end—is around). dog ears for paperbacks.

a book you can always reread?

i have several! firstly, absolutely anything jane austen, i can drop everything and reread. but circe by madeline miller and the tombs of atuan by ursula k. le guin are probably my most reread books of the past few years.

can you read while listening to music?

not usually. i have read while listening to classical music before, but that's about the most i can handle. i tend to get so immersed i can't really hear anything anyway, so there's not much point.

one pov or multiple povs?

it really depends on what the writer's purpose is in having multiple perspectives and how skillfully they're handling it. jemisin is one of my favorite authors to play with multiple points of view.

do you read a book in one sitting or over multiple days?

depends on the length of the book, but i usually like to stretch stories out across multiple days. if i read it in just one sitting, i find that i retain less of it, like crunching before a test.

tagging (without pressure or expectation): @howlonghaveyoubeenseventeen, @loupettes, @lotsofthinkythoughts, @finefeatheredfriend, and @sunnibits, along with anyone else who might be interested!

[sweetchup]

Not A Chance!!

Type: Shalnark x reader

Prompt: O’Inari’s Wisdom — On any day during this week, people of the ages of 19-30 years old will go through a walk in the woods carrying a clear ornament (Traditionally it used to be a Jar). The ornament is usually filled with the person’s favorite scent or perfume, Name and Phone number on paper slip, and their dream type of lover on a rose petal. When walking through the woods, the person allows the God/Goddess of the woods O’inari’s Imps to trick them into meeting their soulmate. It is a must to switch ornaments with that first person they see for it is said the imps won’t allow them to leave the forest unless they do so.

Author Note: I decided to try a different writing style with the kiss scene this time. Tell me what you guys think.

(Prompts/Rules) (Masterlist)

“Hey (y/n), Bisky, What’s this?” Gon asks. His voice was hardly heard over the many chattering of the NPCS and other players in the city as you looked at him. Gon first shows Bisky, who was closer to him, a baby blue flier that you couldn’t quite read from where you were standing. “Is it some sort of Greed Island event?”

“Wait a minute. Gon do you not know what O’inari’s wisdom is?” Bisky questions, shocked. Walking over closer and looking from behind Bisky, you realize that the Winter Holiday of O’inari’s Wisdom was indeed taking place on Greed island. You were slightly surprised for a second but it soon started to make sense the more you thought about it. It had started snowing on the island recently and if the game was parallel to the times in the real world then it should also be December in the game. So it just made sense that Holidays were also coded into the game to match the changing seasons.

“Oh, so it’s a Holiday,” Gon says surprised once Bisky explains it to him, “We didn’t celebrate it on Whale Island. Maybe it’s because I was so young. But, at the very least, (y/n) will be able to celebrate it with us.”

“Huh?” You murmur confused. You never mentioned anything about doing it, “I’m not doing it. Actually, why would you think I would do it?”

“Well, you don’t have a boyfriend right? So you must have not done it yet. So you should do it! It will be fun!” Gon explains enthusiastically as Bisky nods in agreement. Of course, it was just straightforward thinking done by Gon, not thinking of other possible possibilities. Man, why exactly did Killua have to leave you to take the Hunter exam again?

“I actually have done the Holiday before,” You tell the two as you start to walk away, calling forth “book” as you do so. As you examine through your binder, you continued to explain what you meant to the younger boy, “I’ve actually done it many times. Sometimes doing a full week some years. Other times going to different locations from other cities or towns. But in all the years I’ve done, I never once heard nor bumped into anyone else in the forest. So I just gave up on th—”

Bisky suddenly cuts you off with a loud exaggerated gasp.

“Oh My~ Then that must mean you really do have a soulmate out there (y/n)! What powerful young love!!” Bisky states dreamily as sparkles and flowers seem to dance around her. All you can do is sigh at the older woman antics and continue on your way. Honestly, to you there was no way Soulmates could exist. Not a chance! There was just no science nor reason behind it. Nen could be explained. Monsters could be explained. But soulmates, not at all. It was just some made up myth with no hard facts.

As you make your way to the gate of Aiai, you feel Gon tug at your top to catch your attention.

“But, (y/n)?” You take your eyes away from your binder to look at Gon. “Do you think you could try? Perhaps one of the needed 99 slot cards is given at the event.”

“Oooo, good thinking Gon,” Bisky states looking at the flier and then looking at you. “With that possibility, I order you to do it then (y/n). Afterall, you are the only person who could do it out of us.”

You and Bisky stare at each other tensely for a little. Slightly challenging each other to step down until eventually you give up and finally look away. Even though you aren’t looking at her, you can hear Bisky doing a dance in success. “Fine then where do we go to take place in this event?”

“Apparently, you can get there by using an Accompany to Winterfell. We don’t even need to go there beforehand to use the accompany card.” As Bisky explains, you flip your binder and grab a spare accompany card. This is the last one from your binder so Gon and Bisky will have to start using their ones from now on. Well, Until you can get to Masadora to get some more.

“Okay then, let’s get this over with,” You state. Though for some reason you have an uneasy feeling in your stomach as you hold the card up. You wondered why, perhaps you felt nervous? But why would you? Greed Island was hardly crowded so this is the lowest chance of meeting someone during the Holiday. Maybe it was just the fact you haven’t done this tradition in a while. Yeah, that was probably just it, “Accompany on! To Winterfell!”

—.—.—.—.—

The crunching sound of snow is the only thing you hear as you walk through the forest. For what felt goes on for miles, all you have been seeing was snow covered pine trees. Not even birds or other sources of life have been spotted while you have been walking in this forest which was quite strange. How long have you been walking you wondered. It was hard to tell but you guessed maybe an hour or so?

Stopping next to a tree, you run your hand up it’s trunk somewhat tracing the engravement in it. You had already seen this before. It was like you have been going in circles, even though you have actually only been going straight. Was this some sort of test in the game? Maybe Gon was right about a specified slot card being here.

“Book!” In a poof, your binder opens up. Or, at least that's what you expect to happen. However, it doesn’t pop up. After calling the book a couple more times, you realize it was no use. It just doesn’t work. Was this some glitch in the game?

All of sudden, a rush of wind catches you off guard. It wasn’t just any breeze however, this gust of wind was similar to that of a giant icy blizzard. You cringe as the snow in the wind pricks and scratches at your skin. You needed to take cover from the harsh wind before you freeze to death.

Quickly, when you try to look around to find somewhere to take cover, something whips into your face, blinding you. As you struggle to pull it off of you, the wind suddenly comes to a complete stop. Weird, very weird. Finally getting it off of you and taking a good look at the item, you realize it was just an in-game scarf. Actually, you weren’t even sure it was an item from the game since it had a tag from the real world.

“Hey! That’s my sc—“ Turning around at the cheerful voice behind you, you see a familiar man a couple of feet away from you. You don’t understand why you recognize the man until he suddenly goes on guard and realization hits you. Wait a minute you remember that stance. He was a member of the Phantom Troupe wasn’t he? Shalnark, right? You quickly get on guard as well when he grabs an antenna from his pocket. An manipulator, huh? In a one on one fight like this, he has the clear advantage on you.

“Hey, I’m not here with the chain user,” You state, breaking the silence between you two. You weren’t usually someone to give up but avoiding a fight with him and going your separate ways is the best way to go in this situation. Afterall, the last thing you needed was to become his newest puppet. “I’m with the kids and all we are doing is playing the game by collecting cards.”

You wrap up Shalnark’s scarf and lightly toss it in front of his feet.

“I have no problems with you guys and I don’t want to fight you.” You continue as you start to walk backward, away from him. Hopefully, that woman, Pakunoda, told the other troupe members how you deteratarted Kurapika away from the option of placing a Nen dagger in her heart and helped spared their boss’ life.

It’s quiet and tense for a couple of minutes, not even the wind was blowing, before the blonde nods in agreement to your idea. You watch as he carefully picks up his scarf and then both of you two turn away from each other at the same time to walk away. Thankfully, counting on that woman seemed t—

All of sudden, after a couple of steps, the large gust of wind returns. You tried to fight against it and continue forward but it only seemed to grow stronger the more you tried. It grew so strong in fact that it lifted you right off your feet and threw you backward. You hoped to land on the soft snow but, of course with your luck, you hit something else very hard with a loud thump. Originally, you thought it was a tree that you hit but once you roll onto your side, you come to the realization that whatever you landed on doesn’t feel anything like tree bark.

“Ow! What was that…” Shooting up at the voice, You realize it was Shalnark that you had hit. You attempt to scurry away from him fast however, as soon as you get too far away, a gust of wind drags him back towards you. You pause as Shalnark lifts his head from being buried in the snow and looks at you confused.

“I-It’s some sort of error in the game. I swear. Maybe with the coding? Or—“ You blab out in a tangent trying to explain what was going on. Soon however, Shalnark sighs loudly, cutting you off.

“That’s a really stupid conclusion you cam up with. If you had once stop to look around you in this game, you would have realized this place, Greed Island, actually takes place in the real world. Specifically a straight shot east of York New.” Shalnark explains, somewhat sarcastically. All you do is roll your eyes. Of course you got stuck with the jackass of the troupe.

“Well then since this game isn’t actually a game, what do you think is going on, if you think you are oh so right?” You spat back at him. For some reason, you just couldn’t understand why he was being so rude in this situation, it was clearly neither of yours fault.

“Simple. This,” Shalnark states confidently as he takes the ornament from his pocket and lifts it up to you. You can’t help but laugh loudly at the idea, causing him to scowl at you.

“Y-You can’t be serious?! You and I? Soulmates!?”

“Of course! You do realize that in the myth it’s impossible for us to leave until we exchange our ornaments.” Shalnark explains, tossing his ornament at you. Clutching it in your hand, you quickly examine the ornament before scoffing.

“Yeah, not a chance,” You state as you toss his ornament back to him, causing Shalnark to sputter confused. “In no ways am I giving my personal information and phone number to the tech expert of the phantom troupe. That’s just plain stupid.”

You and Shalnark bicker on back and forth for a while until eventually he goes quiet and just glares at you. Honestly, in your opinion, it was better if he just chose to quit talking. He snaps his fingers catching you off guard, “Okay I have an idea! How about I try to convince you we are destine—”

“Soulmates?” You finish for him, slightly cringing.

“Yeah, that! And if I can convince you, then you can feel safe to give me your ornament so we can both leave.”

You ponder a little on the option he suggested. Honestly, you actually didn’t have much of any others option to begin with, “Fine. What do you got to convince me?”

“Well, first,” You watch closely as Shalnark grabs the Rose petal out from his ornament. Oh, you knew where this was going, that was actually a smart idea. Maybe this guy actually had some brain cells. “I’m going to read off my dream type of lover. I bet this will describes you.”

Reading off his petal to you, you listen carefully. As the more he goes on, you can’t deny that it did somewhat describe you, almost on the dime. As Shalnark shows the petal to you to prove he wasn’t making stuff up, You decide to grab your own petal. He seems to get excited that you finally understood what he was saying.

“See I tol—“ Shalnark is cut off when you let out a loud laugh.

“Yeah no way. Mine is ‘Someone who is like the sun; always cheerful as well as mentally bright.’” You read off, chucking it back into the ornament.

“Hey! I’m pretty cheerful! And bright!” Shalnark states, finally flashing you a smile for the first time you’ve been with him.

“Ha, I doubt that.” You say, though you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat at how handsome he looked with a smile on his face. Your eyes go wide and you mentally slap yourself. What in the world were you thinking just now? You were flustered over him?!, “N-Next! What’s your other ideas?!”

“Aw come on!”

After a couple of more attempts from Shalnark to prove you two are soulmates, as well as many more confused borderline bipolar back and forth feelings on your end, Shalnark has run out of ideas and you two sit in silence as he tries to come up with more.

“Is that all the ideas you have?” You ask him shivering slightly as you pull your jacket closer for warmth. Looking up towards the sky above the thick pine branches, you see that it had just started to get darker out, effectively making it ten times colder as well. It now dawns on you that at this rate with your progress, you two could possibly freeze to death out here if you couldn’t get to a warm shelter before night.

“Shalnark. Here I—“ You suddenly pause what you were saying as you turn to face the man, “what the hell do you think you are doing…?”

You looked confused at Shalnark, who had moved closer to sit next to you. You didn’t know what he was up to but you definitely still didn’t trust him. As you try to lift yourself up to move away, Shalnark quickly grabs your wrist to keep you put where you were. Oh hell no. You struggle against his grip, attempting to pry his fingers off of your wrist but while you are distracted he uses his other hand to grab your arm. Effectively trapping you.

You struggle against him a little more but it only causes him to push you backwards down into the snow, him slightly leaning over you. Now nervous about what Shalnark was possibly doing, you shout out to him, “H-hey! I’ll give you the ornament okay? I don’t want—“

You feel the rest of your words die in your throat as Shalnark leans his forehead against yours, causing him to get very close to your face as well. Biting the inside of your mouth, you close your eyes tightly as a way to try calming your pounding heart. You couldn’t tell if your heart was racing out of fear or possibly something else. Though, again, it wasn’t like you could think straight at this point on time to figure which one. Cutting off your thoughts, Shalnark lets out a boyish giggle and tells you, “For someone who says they hate me and doesn’t believe in soulmates, your face sure is feeling quite hot. It’s almost as if you are flustered by me.”

Quickly, most likely in an attempt to save your dignity, you turn your face away to him so his face could no longer touch yours. As you do so, your heart leaps out of your chest when you hear him let out a small aww in disappointment.

“H-hey! I said I’ll give you my ornament so let go of me!” You sputter out, trying and likely failing at keeping yourself composed. You know it’s hard for you to think logically in a situation like this but you would’ve thought you had enough common sense in you to not get flustered by a mass murder.

“Hmmmm… Nope” Shalnark answers, popping the “p” at the end. Surprised and bewildered, You whirl your head around back to look at him. He seemed to get a kick out of your reaction because he can’t help but laugh. “You are correct by the fact that all I wanted originally was to take the ornament and leave. But the more we went on, talking and bickering, I realized I wanted something else.”

“H-huh? What? I don’t have much of anything else.” You questioned. Was he talking about cards in the game? Gon carried all of the number slot cards so you didn’t have anything that was useful to Shalnark.

“Silly girl~ It’s simple.” Shalnark flashes you a smile as he boops your nose with each next word, “I. Want. You~”

As you give a weird expression in response to Shalnark flirting attempt, he looks at you confused as to why you looked like that before full on laughing, when what looked like steam started to flow from out of your head. He couldn’t believe he fried your brain with a silly pick up line. It wasn’t even a good one either.

“Adorable~” Shalnark whispers out so softly and quietly that you almost don’t hear it. You go to ask him to repeat what he said again, but stop when he leans down. He wasn’t—

You can only watch as he inches closer and closer to your face. You don’t get why you don’t stop him, you know you probably should. But you just couldn’t for some reason you didn’t quite understand.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shalnark kisses you. Stealing your first kiss, a precious thing you could never be able to get back from him. Though you doubt you would even try if you were able to.

As his lips moved against yours, you had to admit they were surprisingly soft, not at all rough or chapped like what the very few romance books you’ve read over the years described. Though you had to admit those boorish books were right about one thing, kissing someone was a feeling you’ve never once experienced before in your life. Authors have described the experience in many different ways but as Shalnark pulls away from your lips only to dive it once. Twice. And so many more times that you’ve lost count, you realize yours wasn’t like the ones written down. It didn’t take your breath away, it wasn’t rough or deep, it wasn’t messy or desperate.

But, it was yours. A feverish kiss if you must find a word to describe it. A kiss that even while pushed down into the freezing cold snow, you felt you were burning up inside. So much so, that your brain seemed to melt and your muscles turned to jelly from an non existent heat.

Finally after a while, you two pull away from each other, still in a trance like state from what happened. It’s quiet, nothing is heard nor said between you two as you just stare at each other. You know it is now dark out. You know you should be trying to get back to Gon and Bisky before they worry. You know it would be in your best interests to try to get away as far as you can from the dangerous man before you. You know you shouldn’t be feeling such feelings for him, for it is too soon and he probably doesn’t even deserve to be able to experience a pleasant emotion like this one. You know all these things almost as if they are engraved in your heart.

But, even when knowing all these things, you can’t stop yourself from dragging Shalnark back in to give you another kiss.

[slashmebois]

Distraction

“Heyyy I wanted to ask for a mini fic of vincent getting distracted form his work by a goofy S/O who wants his attention. He's just precious and deserves a precious S/O who's obsessed with him. 🥺🥺🥺 Thank you! 🖤”

 This is such a cute idea!! I had such a fun time writing this one. Thank you so much for this request <3 Credit to @thesightstoshowyou for their banjo headcanon for Bo

 Vincent was used to people interrupting him. Bo was his main antagonist, tending to require some form of medical attention after each chase. Sometimes Bo would come down to the basement just to nitpick Vincent’s process as he worked with helpful phrases such as “Wouldn’t have done that” and “Is it supposed to look like that”.

Lester wasn’t much better when he was around. Vincent would ask for a moment to wrap up his work, and whilst Lester had the best of intentions- his mouth often got away from him. “Oh man Vince, you’ve gotta see this cool skull I picked up today”, “Vince, you won’t believe what these city slickers said to me”. But Vincent could listen and continue working on his sculptures and paintings regardless. Or he had been able to at least.

Recently he found himself more and more distracted by you. You had rocked up into town a few months ago and wasted no time in making their affections for him clear (once he had saved you from his brothers’ murderous grasps). He was of course smitten with you, the way you talked, the way you looked, the way your smile crept onto your face. By his standards you were a walking piece of art, too beautiful to remain stationery.

So, he had tried to reciprocate your feelings, although he was not bold enough to outright say “hey I’m in love with you, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Is that cool with you?” and honestly it would be a mouthful coming from the guy who mostly communicated using ASL and the occasional spoken word. But still, he couldn’t figure out the right way to express himself and every time he started to let himself melt into his work and try to figure it out, you were in the corner of his vision and every logical thought he had died.

But even more than that, he was starting to think you were actively trying to distract him, although he couldn’t quite put a finger on why…

---

You have been trying for days to get Vince to take a break from his work so you can initiate operation date time. But oh man is it hard. Okay sure, he’s starting to take longer to finish his projects, but that is not what you want. You don’t want to slow his process down you just want to spend time with him away from this boiling basement.

The first few days you would just stand at his side and ask about what he was doing and sure he paid attention to you but he kept working. The next few days had been a series of you singing loudly along to his classical opera in shrill tones, before switching the radio over to some popular tunes and repeating. Vincent had eventually got up, and you thought you’d done it, but then he just switched the radio back to classical as you pouted at him. Besides that, you had tried baking for him, reading aloud from a book, playing a very old, out of tune banjo you found (probably Bo’s but you doubted he knew how to play), and doing cartwheels. The last one had spooked Vincent into getting up and catching you, and worriedly dangling you from his arms in mid-air whilst he looked pointedly towards the large boiling pot of wax.

You are just about out of ideas so you go to the only people you can rely on for information on how to distract Vincent- Bo and Lester.

You find Bo in the garage and yell out to him. His hackles rise and he turns round with a gritted smile,

“Please, don’t do that. This was a respectful town before you came along”

You stick your tongue at him and he rolls his eyes, “What do you want? Actually. Let me guess, it has something to do with Vincent hmm?”

You mock gasp, “how did you know, are you a psychic!?!”

He laughs, “Nope, just full o’ shit. C’mon, spit it out already.”

“Well, how would you go about distracting Vincent?”

“I hope you’re not distracting him from his vital work here y/n” you give him puppy dog eyes and he sighs, “alright, alright. I guess he works hard enough. I dunno, play some loud music?”

“Tried that already, what else you got”

“Uhh, have you tried injuring yourself”

“Th…that is the worst idea”

“Alright, okay. No need to get mean. OH!” his loud exclamation makes you jump a little, “how about ruining one of his paintings. That would definitely get his attention”

You fix him a look, “whose side are you even on?”

“My own, do you have to ask? Anyway, that’s all I got- take it or leave it” he waves you off and turns back to…well whatever it is he does in his spare time, don’t know, don’t care.

You groan, you were definitely leaving those ideas alone. You should have known Bo wouldn’t be much help. You start seeking out the other brother in the hopes that they’ll have a better idea.

 Lester is at the edge of town on the other side of the flooding, sat on the back of his truck petting Jonesy.

“Hey Les!”

He looks up and smiles, waving to you, “You stay there, I’ll come over to you. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty clothes all dirty!”

He hops over, Jonesy in arms and sets her down on the other side. Lester smells about as good as usual, but hell you’ve actually got used to it by now, and you know his job is important so who are you to complain.

“Well hello (miss/sir), what can I help you with today”

“Well I was wondering Les, you know any good ways to distract Vincent. I asked Bo, but his ideas were all dumb”

Lester cackles, “well of course they were, Bo’s just a pretty face when it comes down to it”, you laugh along with him, “Hmm, lemme have a think”

Lester looks around, as if searching for inspiration. His eyes light up, “How about showing his some sorta collection? I show him my knives sometimes, wanna see?”

“Not right now Lester, I’m on a mission. But maybe tomorrow? But that’s actually a pretty decent idea. What else you got, hit me?”

Lester looks a little uncertain.

“Don’t actually hit me Les, it’s a saying”

He looks relieved, “riiight, right. I knew that. Okay, idea number two coming up”, his eyes close tightly shut and he makes a strained noise, “ooh ooh ooh!!! Craft something for him!! I helped him craft those knives he has and he looooves those”

“Lester, you are so much better at this than Bo. Thank you, thank you!!” you grab him in a hug in the excitement, promptly remembering the smell but then deciding fuck it- nothing a shower won’t fix.

 As you head off, Jonesy follows you and Lester motions at you to take her with you. You head back to the house feeling pretty positive. You have some pretty seashells and rocks in a box from various visits to places in your room. Once you’re home you head up and grab the box before heading back down to Vincent.

“Hey Vince, how’s it going?”

He pauses and looks over to give you a thumbs up. You sit on a stool nearby and a take a deep breath before giving your newest plan a go.

“I was just thinking about some trips I went on where I got these cools shells, look at this one, it’s…” you drivel on and Vincent does falter for a moment but keeps his resolve.

Unbeknownst to you, Vincent has a sinking feeling in his stomach. Oh god. You wanted to leave. Why else would you be talking to him about all these trips. Your words were no longer reaching his ears as he could feel the guilt eating away at him. His stomach churned, how was he supposed to fix this. His hands kept moving on autopilot but he’s not really paying attention. It’s not long before his hand slips whilst crafting a nose. He grunts frustrated with himself.

Vincent’s grunt interrupts you, and you trail off the end of a sentence thinking he’s annoyed with you. You look up at him from your box and realise the nose of his latest sculpture is looking pretty wonky. So much for distracting him. All you’ve done is fuck up his work.

“Sorry” you mumble, but he’s too focused on fixing the mistake to hear you.

You sigh and put down your box of shells, walking over to where Jonesy has placed herself. You grab an easel and some paints and lie down next to her, passing time with a fingerpainting project.

Vincent fixes the nose, breathing in relief when it forms properly under his hands. He’s about to gesture to it to show you that VIOLA! He fixed it, but he realises you’re no longer on the stool, the only sign of you the discarded box of shells and rocks. He dejectedly reaches towards it, looking carefully over them. Maybe he should let you go. You clearly loved exploring and this town wouldn’t allow for much of that. His dark thoughts start to descend on him but a warm giggle interrupts him and he glances over to your new location. He nearly gasps at how full his heart is at the sight before him.

Jonesy, not happy with no one paying attention to her, has walked through your paint palette and onto the easel to lick at your face. You laugh and push at her,

“What are you doing? Silly girl. Guess it’s a collaboration piece now!”

The dog ignores any protests and continues to try to grab your attention. Vincent struck by the view makes his way over and kneels, ruffling Jonesy’s ears and glancing towards you.

You look up at him, a little shocked, before smiling wide.

“About time you took a break Vince”

He cocks his head to the side, but lies on his belly with you, looking you deeply in your eyes.

And then he splats a hand in the paint and onto the easel before you can track what the heck he’s doing.

You laugh in surprise, “Oh, really? You wanna be a part of this collaboration?” You gather paint on the tip of your index finger, “that can be arranged” you flash him a cheeky grin and lunge towards him, trying to land the paint on him.

Vincent dodges out the way last minute and thus starts a game of cat and mouse round the house. And Vincent swears he can’t imagine a time when laughter filled the house this much.