#is there anything worse than missing someone who doesn’t give a damn about you

[chososdoll]

sigh.

[shotmrmiller]

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS AMAZING PLS IM SOBBING I LOVE IT SO MUCH GIVING U SMOOCHES

but okay so you sleep by yourself that night he comes home. you know he goes out with the boys — mostly on the weekends but sometimes the weekdays too — so when he comes home just a bit later than usual it doesn’t ring any alarm bells even if you pout a little. and you damn near run into his arms and snuggle into his neck only to smell — not him. something, someone else has touched what you thought was yours.

you pull back from the hug to look him over further. clothes mussed up, lips looking like they were bitten, a little flushed. a little like when you two —

you swallow thickly, throat lining with glass and tears as you suck in a breath. you find that you can’t actually form words for a moment, worried that only bile and venom would come out.

“did you fuck someone?”

he looks panicked — guilty — and you don’t even need him to say it for you to know what he’s done.

“who?” you ask, voice barely there, only able to be heard over the icy silence that followed your question. he replies one of the other pets. you nod, more to yourself than anything, trying not to scream your heart out at him.

but your heart cracks the moment he opens his mouth.

for the first time since you began living with him, you slept alone.

(you did scream at him. tripping over your words and panicked breaths and streams of tears. how could he do this. he didn’t call, didn’t ask. did he even think to? did he even care?)

you’re exhausted. too tired crying like you’ve never cried before, feeling like the weight of betrayal is crushing you as you sleep.

you almost fear that it’ll kill you.

the next day — friday — he knocks on your door before he goes to work. he tells you to have a good day. you don’t acknowledge him.

but you miss him. you absolutely fucking hate him but you miss him so much, it hurts. that particular ache is almost worse than the one of betrayal.

almost.

by mid day, you figure you should give him a chance to talk. he obviously feels guilty, and you love him. despite everything, you love him.

so you clean yourself up and try to look a little pretty for him, wearing a cute slip lingerie dress and bows on your ears.

you clean up around the flat a little. you fold his clothes — he’s been grumbling about it lately and always say he’d do it later. so you do it for him, folded with precision and left to sit on the edge of the bed.

you’re still upset and anxious and everything in between. the nerves make it hard to feel anything and you feel too sick to eat. but you nibble on some bread, knowing he wouldn’t want you to neglect yourself. you love him.

when it starts getting later, you decide to make him his favorite cookies. it’s been awhile since you’ve made him anything, and you’ve always enjoyed making these for him. the sweetest kisses tend to follow.

the night rolls around to the point where you know he’s off work. it’ll take him a little to get home, so you settle on the couch and wait.

but as the hours tick by, later and later, the worry grows and gnaws and threatens to split you from the inside out.

maybe he’s out with the boys again? you’d think, given the circumstances, he’d want to come home to you. but old habits die hard, you suppose.

but it gets later. and later.

later than he ever would be out even when things were perfect between you two.

it shatters you. where was he? what was he doing? was he —

the thought makes you sick.

he comes home after midnight. after you wretched in the toilet and cried yourself to sleep — again.

didn’t he love you too?

he sees the cookies put away in a container and a pit grows in his stomach, a void ready to eat his heart. whatever is left of it, anyways.

there’s a note sitting on the top.

“sleep well.”

the writing was shaky and it looks like a few tears spilled onto the words as you wrote them.

your usual xoxo at the bottom was crossed out.

you beat me to it:)

you bloody beat me to it. Fool me once.

your eyes are blank as if the life had all but faded from them, and in a way, they had.

Sitting him down, you calmly, (calmly, because there is nothing in you left other than acceptance, and youll be damned before you ever beg a man to want you) say, "I'll be leaving in the morning."

He tries to say something but nothing he could ever say will fix what he chose to break. "No, the fact that i'm even bothering to tell you is a courtesy you don't deserve. You've made your bed, now continue to lie in it with whoever you keep seeing after work." Smoothly, you get up and walk towards your room.

There is no rancor in your heart for whoever it is he's been with. After all, the one in the relationship with you was him.

You stuff a towel under the door, covering the gap, and clutch your collar to your chest, letting the last tears youll ever cry over him track down your cheeks. He doesn't deserve to see nor hear your pain.

You call an uber while he's at work and disappear.

When he comes back home, the place is dark and empty. He sits at the dinner table alone, with two fingers of whiskey in front of him, and in his hand is the last note you left him, stiff with dried tears and an xoxo at the very bottom.

What makes him crumble is when he sees the glint of your personalized collar on his nightstand, and it finally hits him that you're gone. For good.

listening to eurielle while writing epic sad is just chefs kiss.

[jeanbie]

IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k

note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)

⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.

Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.

It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame. 

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.

For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.

But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.

You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”

Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.

He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.

“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.

You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”

He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.

As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.

Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?

Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.

Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.

Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming. 

Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.

You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.

Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.

The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.

Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.

Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.

Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.

[mx-your-name]

His Goddess - 2

Possessive!Adam x Goddess!Reader

Warning: Yandere theme, Possessive Adam, minimum Obsessed Adam, mention of willing to kill angels and sinners, Adam trying to fight a literal GOD, slight mention of sized and mommy kink, a weird ass dead Angel willing to do anything for you that goes by the name of fucking ADAM!

-Like any normal day you were awake doing business whether it was watching over the mortal world, heaven, or hell

-Just then you had to get called into a meeting making you even more annoyed while you were trying to maintain all three places which were all chaotic.. Lute was a mess after Adam’s death with Sera and Emily trying to cheer her up or something, hell was hell, and Earth was just a mix of heaven and hell that was 10x worse than both

-And to your no amusement only to find out that the meeting had lasted for three hours!

-Not only did you miss out on normal day activities you do but Adam was also panicked on where you were at

-He had woken up and went to the normal spot to find you NOT there so he thought you were in your library or something? Nope! Garden? Not there either! He had looked everywhere only to find no one, not his goddess in sight

-Adam knew he shouldn’t worry since you were not only a HOT GODDESS but one that is more powerful than the other four

-Including your hot and sexiness

- *s i g h s in d i s a p p o i n t m e n t*

-Image him calling you tall milf or Mommy cause how you always towered over him.. yeah weird motherfucker but we still love him

-You see how cocky he is about himself just wait until he tells you all the cool stuff that he had done for you to fall more in love with him but fails miserably, you already saw everything he had done from the start of time itself

-Size kink, you can’t tell me otherwise! Whether it’s you or him that’s taller! He’ll still have a size kink no matter what!

-Still calls you a bitch but instead he says, “milf bitch,” or “tall bitch,” or “hot bitch,” or even “mommy bitch,” He’s still coming up with more nicknames for you till this day, yeah weird motherfucker am I right?

-I regret doing this but I love him sfm…

-Has told you multiple times that you belonged to him and him alone which is like 5 or 6 times PER DAY sadly..

-Of course he trusts that you’d never leave him for someone else like who would? He’s Adam! The first man! The dickmaster! He just doesn’t trust that goody tooshoo Cupid guy that talks nonstop about love this and love that

-Yeah.. he definitely had to tell himself that he was the only one made for you and you alone. He fucking CACKLED for the past 5 10 minutes about that

-Meanwhile you were super bored in the meeting which was talking about what to do with certain IMP’s in hell that were going back up to the human world messing with the people and killing them after getting more calls from clients and shit about that

-You were really wishing you brought Adam in here to make it entertaining and have some views from a person that knew sinners personally that just wanted to kill them

-Now when you were looking through the eyes you have everywhere and saw Adam laughing to himself then leaving to grab a drink and sip on it, maybe it was in fact the best idea to not have him come to this Gods meeting

“I say we just go down there and handle them ourselves! Sooner or later they are gonna need to learn to not FUCK with the human world and just stay in their damn place! Maybe we should even give Stolas a visit about him letting those IMP’s use his book that was passed on through his family from us!” Demeter shouted slamming her fist on the table now standing up from her chair knocking it over making it tumble onto the ground. The vines alongside the wall as decoration grew bigger fast from her anger that was swelling up inside of her.

“Not only that but they are messing with nature! The nature that I took my time growing! The nature that I took my time out of my schedule to plant in the place that was needed and thought out only from it all gets mostly destroyed by.. fucking IMP’s!” Her shouting was heard throughout the entire room and through the giant down for all of your 40 foot tall frames. The vines growing faster and faster the more her anger boiled, Eros shirking down a bit muttering how this didn’t feel like a lovely conversation anymore.

Themis sat there, her hands intertwined neatly on the table, staring at Demeter through her blindfold over her eyes with a straight face. Ares felt the anger that was all so familiar that he knew during the wars he went through time and time again for humans only that was never really appreciated or respected anymore nowadays. You knew every emotion that everyone was feeling, you sat at your seat in between both sides. Resting your face in the palm of your hand that stood up on the arm of your chair wanting this meeting to be over since you still had stuff that you needed to get down.

For example like making sure that Adam hadn’t gone mad when finding that you were missing and leaving your place without him. It was always important to him that when you left you had to take him with you since he was always feeling like you were just cheating on him with that Cupid guy which Adam refers to him as. Yeah you had to tell him just because you're leaving without him doesn’t mean you're doing any of that with Eros after all he wasn’t anything more. That but also because Eros already basically had two wives since he is Cupid.

You also had to remind Adam that you two weren’t dating, which Adam acted so dramatic about crying that you didn’t love him anymore. He had crocodile tears going down his face, sighing as you lifted him up in your hands telling him to stop crying. When he thought you weren’t looking he had a smirk on his face knowing that he won the conversation. He “always” did, instead you only let him since Eros told you over and over that he could feel Adam’s love for you raiding off of him, but told you privately that the love Adam had for you was more toxic and possessive but still said it was so cute to see the love between you two!

“Demeter, please calm down. We’ll get this whole situation sorted out in no time and you know revealing ourselves to anyone besides to the certain people that know about us would mess up everything and would cause chaos to arise. We’ll all come up with a plan on what to do, maybe we could speak to Stolas about the matter after all he knows of our existence because of his family.” You told Demeter, breaking through the tension between everyone once snapping out of your thoughts about the matter you're gonna have to deal with when getting back to your place.

“I sincerely apologize, [Name]. I’m just a bit mad for what those IMP’s are doing to my amazing plants down on the planet Earth.” She explained, her vines shrinking back down with a swipe of her hand. Her once chair that laid on the ground was now sat back up thanks to her plants that sprouted from the bottom of her feet. Demeter sat back down in her seat with a swift motion, Eros now sitting back up in his pink chair that had hearts on it that was designed that was to his liking.

-After that whole thing the meeting went completely normal figuring out ideas and coming up with a way to get what Demeter wanted without breaking any of the rules

-Never have you been so thankful in your life when the meeting finally ended letting all five of you go back to what you were doing before the three hour long God and Goddess gathering

-Snapping your fingers you were easily back at your place, Adam who was watching television with a slurpee in hand sipping on it

-Your once 40 foot tall height shrunk down to ten feet that was still taller than Adam since you didn’t feel comfortable being short cause it didn’t fit you, that’s what you’d always say

-Once you sat down beside him on the couch expect him to immediately cling onto you like you were a jungle gym or something

-For a warning he ain’t ever gonna let go until he feels that he can but will still cling to your side wherever your heart leads you to

-Threatening anyone that he deems competition that’ll try and fight for your love

-Yes he HAS in fact threatened the other gods even the goddesses about staying away from you his lover

-Oh my YOU! He almost died a second time thanks to Ares but it was stopped by you. Adam knew that you’d protect him but didn’t show it telling you that he could’ve handled it on his own

-no… just no-

-Adam so wished Lute was here so he could show you off to her and say he had hit the jackpot on finding the one that was always meant to be his lover from the start

-He does miss Lute most of the time feeling a bit lonely without his best friend by his side but at least you're here with him! Not like you're ever gonna leave. He wasn’t able to die again with him by your side and you wouldn’t be able to die since you are a LITERAL goddess

-Had tried to convince you to bring Lute up here multiple times but you told him that you weren’t able to do that for the sake of the rules that were written down for you, you did tell him that if she did die that she would come up here and could stay here with the two of you if he wanted. Adam agreed with little hesitation because he realized that he might get you all to himself but if Lute was her she could protect you like your bodyguard

-As if you were gonna need one! If anyone tried attacking you they’re flicked away and if they did manage to after trying to get to where your at

“Oh come on Sugar tits! You will live Lute and we both could get what we want! I can have my best pal with me and you could have another person to add to this house that could pretty you!” Adam tried convincing you, walking side by side in the garden of flowers that Demeter had set up for you since she said your house was a bit dull m, that was but it wasn’t anymore when Adam arrived here and moved in total with your permission.

“I had already told you Adam, I’m not aloud the only way she could come up here is if she dies WITHOUT it being caused by me or any of the others.” You told him for the second time in the past two minutes man. Wait sugar tits? Oh great another nickname for you, guess it was a bit better than bitch mommy, gross. “Oh don’t be like that babes, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just one person!” Adam said, slurping on his slurpee in hand, his golden wings resting behind his back. He no longer had his weird looking mask since he had died without it on.

“You ask one more time and I’ll take you going on walks with me in the garden away no scratch that, I'll take you sleeping with me away for a whole damn week if it makes you be quiet.” That had gotten Adam to shut up rather quickly huh guess that’s one of the things he doesn’t wanna go a week without or even a single day. He had bugged you so much one time so you kicked him out of your room for a whole night, he slept outside the door and apologized for what he did later that morning. He couldn’t even stand the feeling of sleeping without you in your big giant bed together.

Nodding your head as you continue your way through the garden admiring the flowers that Demeter had made for you. It was rather normal for all the gods or in other cases goddesses to give the others housewarming gifts. Demeter gave all of you plants and flowers, Eros had gotten any pink and pastel colors to represent love. Ares had gotten all shades of red and some black ones that often had both colors mixed to represent the war for him which he loved gladly.

Themis had gotten just blue that were all shades since she only wanted blue and some were white as an exception since Demeter said it was too bluey for the whole garden. You had gotten all kinds of colors since you were creation and creation could make any color and another part of the garden had darker shades of colors including black, all shades of gray, brown, and etc to represent the destruction.

Ares gave every person some knight armory stands along side the outside or inside of the huge like places you all live at to represent the protection of knights that could come to live from his power to protect the place it guards if anything tried to ever attack which was very unlikely but better be safe than sorry. Eros gifted everyone scented candles with your favorite scents and always gave you all new ones every once or two weeks cause the old ones melt away but that’s okay!

Themis gifted everyone scale if anyone needed an option on anything if you don’t ever make up your mind or see where a person should go to be either reincarnated or whiling them from the face of the entire existence. Your gift to everyone was to make anything they wished for since you had creation letting you create anything with the power of your magic that didn’t break a single sweat from you.

“How does a nice dinner and a movie tonight sound to you?” Breaking the silence with ease as your hand held the flower between your fingertips, the beauty is always surprising on how pretty and amazing things can look if you just focus on the present instead of technology, staying inside all day, or just not giving a single care about the world at all. “That sounds awesome, sugar tits.” Adam quickly agreed, grinning ear to ear, and there that nickname was there again.

Not able to hold the smile back from appearing on your face, letting out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids open up revealing [color] eyes that had a star in the middle of it as the pupils. What made you even more beautiful to Adam in the scenery was your smile that would be worth a thousand or even more words that he spent in a heartbeat. But also because of the way you looked at him with pure eyes that seemed to easily overpower anyone if they tried to fight you, yet again they held both the sunset and sunrise you would always want to see with your significant other every day at any given chance that was open for free.

The sun shining brightly behind you making your appearance glow brightly made Adam feel like he fell so much harder for you than he already was. If he thought he was already deeply in love with you, this one handed split second had sealed the deal on his love that he felt for only you. And the way you were looking at him with laughter and a smile he knew you must love him back. If it wasn’t his cockyness talking he would say that he was glad you were starting to love him but maybe not as much as he loves you but that’s okay cause he could love you with all the love he’d offer. Maybe even kill sinners and angels combined to see you give him that smile every day.

[bidisastersanji]

It's Sunday night so why not read part 3/3 of "Zoro gets lost because he uses the red string of fate like a compass" ? Part 1 here, part 2 here, ao3 here Hope you guys like it ;)

Sanji is being weird. Ever since that day on Thriller Bark, he’s definitely been avoiding him, only interacting with him when strictly necessary (to feed him), never making eye contact for too long, and leaving as quickly as he came. 

Shitty cook. What’s his fuckin’ deal? 

Zoro lets it sit for a couple of days, too injured to move out of the infirmary or to do anything about it anyways, before he comes up with a potential reason for the cook’s strange behaviour. It must be because of the self-sacrifice thing. It can’t be because of that... other thing, he muses. 

Back at the Baratie, when they’d first met, Zoro could immediately tell that Sanji didn’t know. The blonde couldn’t see it, or feel it...nothin’. It was painfully obvious. (It didn’t make him feel hollow at all!) So, he hadn’t said anything- what would’ve been the point? It wasn’t like it mattered to him either way: his goal was already fixed. Become the world’s greatest swordsman. Then, maybe look for the person tied to his soul. 

He didn’t expect to meet them so soon. 

He also didn’t expect for him to come aboard and join the crew. Sure, the ridiculous moron grew on him much faster than he expected, and he took great satisfaction from having someone of comparable strength look over their crew with him, someone who could handle him, his power, his ambition, his rough edges and biting words. He wouldn’t deny that. But he also hated how the proximity made his little...navigation problem way worse. 

Learning that Sanji grew up on a moving restaurant in the East Blue certainly explained why the thread moved around so much. Being on the same boat, however, brought the realisation that the closer they were to each other, the more the thread moved- and when living in such close quarters, stuck on a ship, the thread was constantly bobbing around as the cook moved around his kitchen, the pantry, the bridge, happily serving freshly prepared meals and snacks to his crewmates. 

If there was one good use that he got out of this, it's that he could always find the best time to sneak some booze from the kitchen- the red string a reliable indicator of Sanji being busy elsewhere. The downside was, of course, all the teasing his nakama, especially that witch Nami, made him endure. And it’s not like he could even reciprocate the teasing the day her tattoo turned the exact shade of a certain Miss Wednesday’s hair. He couldn’t risk his debt going up. 

Even when off the ship, Zoro’s sense of direction had never been as comically bad before. Using the red thread to move around was like breathing to him, and it constantly caught his eye, getting him lost- even in the midst of battle- going up the wrong stairs, running off in the wrong direction, finding himself in the most unlikely of places because the damn cook wouldn’t. stop. moving. Around. (Somewhere in his mind, Zoro was aware that he couldn’t expect Sanji to not move- he just was oh so tired of getting lost.) 

He noticed that Sanji never had problems finding him. Zoro’s chest felt light whenever he did. He didn’t linger on it. 

His chest feels anything but light now that Sanji is avoiding him like the plague. 

Strong enough to stand after a few days’ rest, Zoro follows the red thread to the galley. He pushes the door open and catches the sweet smell of Sanji’s stress baking. Of course. 

“I’m not giving you booze, marimo.” Sanji doesn’t look up from behind the counter, hands meticulously working to decorate whatever baked goods he’s whipped up today. 

“’m not here for booze, cook.” 

“Then get the hell out of my kitchen, it’s not lunchtime yet.” 

Zoro regards him cooly, standing between the counter and the dining table, and waits for him to look up. He has time. 

“...You gonna stand here all day, shithead?” 

“Mn.” 

Sanji sighs and meets his gaze with an affronted look, hands finally stilling in his decorating. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Zoro’s not one to beat around the bush. “Is this about what happened with Kuma?” 

Sanji stays silent, absentmindedly worrying his lower lip. 

“Look, I’m never gonna apologise for knockin’ you out and doing what I did- especially since everything turned out ok in the end. The crew couldn’t lose you, curls. This was my burden to bear. How can we move past this-” 

His blue eyes look furious, like burning ice. “We can’t,” he bites out. Sanji reaches for his cigarettes, soothing himself with the familiar motion of placing it between his lips. It wobbles as he speaks. “And the fuck do you even mean, they couldn’t lose me- they can’t lose you, dumbass. You still have to beat Mihawk and become the greatest, right?” 

Zoro sighs, tuning the cook out a bit as he nags him. Why Sanji can never see his own value, his importance to the crew, to him, he doesn’t know. He knows it’s not something he can fix with just a few words. 

“Why would you even,” Sanji starts losing his words from his frustration. His thumb and forefinger pinch his cigarette and he waves it around angrily. “you silly moss- I can’t understand you!” 

“That’s my line. Why did you try to take my place? Spoutin’ all that bullshit about finding another cook, huh?” 

Sanji blanches, mouthing silent words as he looks for a way to answer Zoro’s question. His visible eye flits to Zoro’s hand on his chest. The swordsman notices. 

“Y-you wouldn’t understand...” his face contorts painfully, brow furrowed. 

Zoro takes it all in. Where he’s looking, the way he’s been acting strange...it was more than what happened on Thriller Bark, then. “Oh yeah? Wanna bet?” 

“Not really, no.” 

“All right. Then why don’t I let you in on a little secret.”  

Zoro’s face is impassible as ever, and the cook seems intrigued.  

“...sure, why the hell not.” Then, to break the tension, “You gonna tell me the secret to your ridiculous hair colour?” 

“Better. ‘m gonna tell you why I get lost all the time.” 

“...so you are self-aware. Good job, marimo. Maybe next you’ll figure out basic hygiene.” Sanji’s jeer doesn’t mask how intently he’s waiting for Zoro to reveal his secret. 

The swordsman comes closer to the counter, placing his forearms and hands on the cool granite. Sanji’s eye follows the movement and seems to linger on the thread before returning to meet his own. This helps steel the swordsman in his decision. 

“You see, the reason I get turned around and lost is ‘cause I don’t navigate like most folk do. Growing up, I relied on my inner compass, and it worked just fine- I could always tell where North was, back then. No matter where I was.” 

“What changed?” 

“My north started movin’ around,” he huffs. 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Yeah, didn’t make sense to me either. But then my friend told me that the red string on my finger wasn’t a compass.” 

From how close they’re standing; Zoro hears Sanji’s breath hitch. He grins and brings his hand up from the counter, wiggling his pinky. 

“Y-you can see it?” Sanji’s face is twisted with shock and confusion. 

“Always have.” 

“But then why- why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Could tell that you didn’t see it too. Didn’t wanna make a fuss.”  

Sanji’s mouth opens on an inhale- ready to retort, but Zoro cuts him off before he gets the chance. “Think, cook. How would’ve you had reacted if I’d told you?” 

That shuts him up. Head slightly hanging, his unlit cigarette is in pieces, wrung out by his nervous hands. 

Always a contrarian, Zoro feels calm, his chest now warm and light like bread fresh from the oven. He can feel his lips stretch into a lazy smile despite himself. The shitty cook can see it. He can see the thread. It’s a start. 

“Sanji.” 

His blue eyes are cloudy, distant, deep in thought, and it takes him a few seconds to realise that swordsman said his name. His actual name. Zoro’s chest feels a little tight at the cute blush that dusts his cheeks, spreading to his ears. Tempers the urge to tease him about it, watch it deepen. He should probably say the important stuff first, do what he came here to do in the first place. 

“I won’t apologise for Thriller Bark because I'm selfish. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Zoro prefers to speak with actions, not words, and he hopes that this action was loud enough. 

Listen, cook. Please listen. 

Sanji ponders his words for a moment, eyes searching his face with an intensity that keeps Zoro rooted to the spot. Under his crisp white button up, his chest rises and falls with a deep, deep sigh. He seems to come to a decision, and Zoro can’t deny his sweaty palms are itching to fidget with his earrings as he watches Sanji join him on his side of the counter. His footsteps suddenly feel quite loud, the light a bit too bright- but Zoro keeps his face schooled in a neutral expression and turns to face his crewmate. 

The thread is short, now, their bodies, close.  

“You won’t apologise.” 

Zoro shakes his head no. 

“Then you better be ready to make it up to me your whole life, you shitty marimo.” 

I hear you. 

Zoro’s heart beats like war drums, victorious and bold and indomitable, blood racing, making his body sizzle with restless energy. He watches in awe as Sanji’s hand- the one with a delicately corded red rope tied to the pinky- reaches for his own, interlocking their hands between them. It looks nice, the red string bright and proud against their skins’ neutral tones. Evidence of their unique bond. 

His face must be saying something because Sanji looks handsomely mischievious, pearly whites peeking out from an idiotic grin. 

“So, you’re gonna kiss me or what?” 

Zoro doesn’t need to be asked twice, and for once, does as Sanji says. 

[elizabethwritesmen]

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 4 : March 3, 2023

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: you go on a date to try and get ghost off your mind, but still, somehow, you end the night with him instead.

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, reader goes on a date with someone who’s not simon, reader kisses someone who’s not simon, i think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

series masterlist

March 3, 2023

Not even a month had passed and I could still see it all in my mind. I hadn’t spent a second not thinking about him, kicking myself and cursing his stupid codename or whatever. I felt so unlike myself, giggly and stupid, begging God for one more chance to see him, swearing I’ll take advantage of it like he doesn’t turn me to mush. I’m confident enough to flirt with him, to toy with him the way I do them all. But I don’t have it in me to actually make a move, or even insinuate that I want him.

And what would happen if I had him? He’d probably get up and leave right after wrecking me, his self intact and mine done for. He’d walk out, and I’d go back to barely ever seeing him. If ever again. Who knows when he’d stop being sent to my town? Why did I want that so badly? Something I couldn’t even have, not really? Something that I knew would ruin me and my life to a point I couldn’t come back from? Something that would turn me into a worse person than I already was?

I craved it, though. I told myself I could handle having him once then never again. I could handle not knowing where he was after, and not having any contact. I could handle the fact that I was falling over the edge and there was no way it would end well.

I decided I needed to take my mind off of it, and what better way than with someone else? This particular guy had been begging me for a date for months, and he was cute. What harm could come from saying yes? I didn’t want to be with him or anything, but maybe a little flirting, a little attention, a little more could clear my mind of that mask.

So there I was, sitting at the table across from… oh, what was his name again? Dave? Don? Danny? Oh! Drake. It was definitely Drake. I think.

He was going on and on about his plans to get out of the military and open his own sporting goods company. Great dreams. I couldn’t see him actually achieving them.

My phone buzzed on the table, and I held a hand up to stop his rambling, “That’s all great, give me just a second, though.” He seemed a little dumbstruck that I’d had the audacity to shut him up, but stayed silent as I walked away to answer Sabrina’s call.

“Dude, where are you?” she spoke from the other line, “I’ve texted you like ten times.”

“I’m on that date, remember?”

“Date? You didn’t tell me about a date,” I could hear the smirk in her voice, “How’s that?”

“Oh, perfect. I was just about to ride off into the sunset on his white horse when you called,” I groaned, and she giggled.

“Well come to the bar, save yourself from that misery.”

“The bar? Why?”

“Just come to the damn bar!”

I jumped slightly at her tone, she could be assertive when she wanted to. “You got something sketchy up your sleeve?” I asked, eyebrows raised though she couldn’t see me.

“Just come! Please!” This time she was pleading, and I sighed.

“Anything is better than being here with Mr. Future Entrepreneurs of America. I’ll be there in a sec.”

I briefly wondered how I was going to get out of the date, then realized, what would he do if I just told him I had somewhere to be and left? Probably nothing, just stare at me dumbly.

I sauntered to the table, pulling 30 dollars out of my bag.

“This should cover my part. I’ve gotta go,” I hummed, beginning to turn on my heel, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. God, I hated being touched.

I swung around, already annoyed, and he crumbled a bit under my stare but plowed onward, “I thought we were having a good time.”

“Yeah, sure, it was great,” I shrugged, “Just gotta go. I have somewhere to be. You can keep my food when it comes, take it home or something.”

“Do I at least get a goodnight kiss?”

“Do you think you deserve one?” I raised a brow and his expression was comical, in disbelief I would say such a thing.

“Yes,” he nodded frantically, “You’re leaving early, skipping out on a date you agreed to! It’s the least you could do!”

“Fine, if it means no hard feelings,” I shrugged, leaning down and slotting my lips against his before I could talk myself out of it. It was just a kiss. It didn’t matter at all. Kisses never really did.

It was okay, except it wasn’t really okay at all. I pulled away, giving his cheek a tap before walking off to my getaway car.

The drive to the bar was quick, I was already downtown so it only took minutes to pull into the small parking lot. The only spot open was in the alley, naturally, so I went for it. I could hear Ghost’s voice in my head, telling me not to do it, and I hadn’t been! But desperate times, you know what I mean?

I got out of the car, bag in hand, and smoothed out my dress. It was a purple slip with floral black mesh over top of it, and I thought it looked great on me, highlighting the right curves and smoothing over the wrong ones. I was also wearing heels, black stilettos, they were very femme fatale. Fully satisfied with my appearance, right down to my big curls and my deep red lips, I walked inside.

Sabrina noticed me immediately, sprinting for me.

“Fuck, you look hot!” she squealed, and I was too preoccupied with her to see who was sitting at the bar. “Someone is here to see you!”

I turned to where she was gesturing, and there was Ghost, sitting at a turned around barstool facing us, hands folded in his perfect lap.

“What is he doing here so soon?” I gasped, throat going dry and heart pumping extra hard.

“I’m not sure, but he came here asking about you and I told him you weren’t working. He was gonna leave but I said I’d get you here, and, well, he waited,” her voice sounded extra sweet on the last word, as if she almost couldn’t believe he’d done it. As if it was the most precious thing in the world, and maybe it was.

“You couldn’t have warned me he was here?” My anxiety flared up, and I was suddenly feeling self conscious, worried my dress wasn’t covering me enough, worrying I couldn’t walk well enough in my heels. I wanted his approval, I wanted him to like what he saw, and fear that he wouldn’t ripped through me like a current.

“I told you, you look hot, stop stressing. Now go talk to him!”

I nodded, steeling my resolve and walking his way. He was waiting there, expectant, and I stopped right in between his open legs.

“I heard you were asking about me?” I smirked coolly, more confidence than I actually had dripping from me like syrup.

“Words gets around fast here, huh?”

“What’re you doing back so soon? Not that I’m complaining, I’m just used to having to wait until I’m absolutely desperate to see you and then somehow you pop up.”

“You aren’t desperate to see me now?”

“Maybe a little,” I shrugged dismissively, “You were kind of an ass last time, so.”

“I wasn’t an ass, I was trying to help you.”

“By yelling at me?”

“There you go again, lying. I didn’t yell, I was stern with you. I have a feeling you like when a man is stern with you, so why are you whining?” My cheeks went red, burning with embarrassment.

“You’ve got all kinds of things to say tonight, huh?” I gasped, “But really, what are you doing here? You’ve been sent back already?”

“No…” he started, hesitant to continue, “I had a few days of leave and wanted to come here and check on you.”

The words rolled over and over in my head. He had leave, personal time, and he used it to see me. I couldn’t help but get all starry eyed and cursed myself for being such an idiot.

“Checking on me, soldier? If I didn’t know better I’d think you cared.”

He groaned, eyes rolling and they looked so pretty that way. “What happened in the alley was a lot, I wanted to make sure you were okay, especially after being kidnapped there.”

“It would’ve been a lot if you hadn’t been there, but you were.”

“I was.”

It was silent for a moment, just eyes locked on each other, and I cleared my throat, “I’ve been parking in the lot and not the alley, and I haven’t walked alone once. Just like you said.”

His eyes crinkled like he was smiling, “Good girl.”

My mouth fell agape, and I couldn’t help my reaction to that, squirming just a little, breath hitching. He noticed, eyes widening for a second before falling to their normal spot. He placed his hands on my hips, looking me up and down.

“Who’re you wearing this for, love?” he asked, and I blushed hard. Telling him I had a date would ruin the mood for sure, right? Oh well, it didn’t matter. He didn’t own me, I could do what I wanted to do.

“I had a date.”

“Yeah, Sabrina told me. Was it nice?”

“What do you think?” I huffed out a laugh and he just stared, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“So what was it then? He wasn’t interesting enough for a girl like you?”

“Not nearly,” I pondered for a moment, “And he was a bad kisser.”

I hoped my words would make him jealous but his face was unreadable. “Bad kisser, huh? How?”

“How?” my brows furrowed. Did he really expect me to explain it to him? In detail? That was mortifying but he just stared like he always did and clicked his tongue.

“How.”

“Well…” I tried so hard not to stumble over my words, and he noticed it, I knew he did. “It was… it was too fast, but too slow somehow too. Like he wanted to rush it but even then he couldn’t keep up.”

“Keep going,” he encouraged when I paused, and I sighed, plowing on.

“His mouth was cold. Kisses aren’t supposed to be cold, you know? And it was so wet…”

“Isn’t it supposed to be wet?”

“Not the way his was.”

He grunted, scanning me over again, stopping on my rosy cheeks. “You nervous?”

“N-no,” I stuttered out, feeling scrutinized under his gaze.

“You are.” He sounded… amused? “Guess Miss Heartbreaker finally met her match, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I agreed before I could help myself.

“You gonna sit beside me or you gonna keep standing there? Not that I mind…” His hands squeezed my hips, holding me tight right in front of him.

“I’ll sit,” I nodded once and he let me go, turning away from me, leaving me cold. I inhaled deeply before slipping onto the stool next to him, and Sabrina smirked at me from the other side.

“Here you go, hot stuff,” she handed me what I usually got, a Malinu pineapple, and Ghost snorted.

“I’d think a girl like you would drink the hard stuff.”

I rolled my eyes, “A girl like me drinks whatever the hell she wants. I happen to like it sweet.”

“Yeah?” he mumbled, and the timbre in his voice turned my cheeks red. God, I had to stop letting that happen, I was embarrassing myself. I was not the kind of girl to turn into soup! I needed to remember who I was and… and…

His hand landed on my thigh and my train of thought got lost there. Something about remembering something?!

“You two look cozy,” Sabrina mused, small smile playing about her lips as she winked at us. I just laughed, small and meek, focusing in on the small circles his gloved thumb was rubbing into my skin. Jesus, act cool, I kept reminding myself but to no avail. I was like a girl who’d never been touched or something, desperate and whiny. I wanted him bad and I could tell it was written all over my face by the way Sabrina smirked at me. “You want another one, Ghost?” she gestured to his empty glass. He gave her a small nod and she got to making it.

It was then I realized something. She’d been texting me for about half an hour before I finally responded. Did that mean… did he wait that long, not even knowing if I would show up at all? Not even knowing if I would answer her? My breath hitched once again.

He lifted his mask to his nose so he could take a small sip from his new glass, and I tried so hard not to stare but I couldn’t manage. I wanted any glimpse of the mystery I could get.

“You’re staring.”

“I’m curious.”

“You’re nosy.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning a little closer to him, “You ever gonna show me what you look like under there, Ghosty?”

“No,” his word was flat, with a sense of finality, and I pouted. “Nobody has seen what’s under here, love.”

“Sounds like a lonely existence.”

“Loneliness is part of the job,” he shrugged, taking another sip before putting the mask down. I couldn’t help but notice how much nicer his words sounded when I could see the his lips forming around them.

“Is that why you keep coming back to see me? I make it better?”

“You’re being cocky again.”

“Answer me anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s why,” he grunted, and he was telling the truth. I smirked for a second, feeling like I got part of my power back. “You distract me.”

“So I’m just a distraction, then, huh?”

“No, you’re also a pain.”

I laughed, and we fell into easy conversation. Well, as easy as it can get with him. Sabrina joined in at times, making her little comments about us as always.

“The bar is closing soon,” I sighed as I noticed the clock on the wall.

“Yeah.”

“Guess that means this is it, huh? You’ll go back and I won’t see you again for a while?”

“Guess so.” I tried to mask my disappointment with a smile but he saw right through it. “Unless you want to go somewhere else?”

“Like where?”

“Well… we could go sit on the beach for a while. I’ve done that a few times when I’ve been here.”

I smiled, feeling like I was getting a peek inside the hard exterior. “Let’s do it!”

And we did. We walked the few blocks it took to get there, my heels eventually killing my feet so I took them off. He grabbed them from my hand and carried them for me, leaving no room for debate, and in minutes we were on the sand. He found a bench for us to sit on, brushing the sand off of it for me.

“Thanks,” I hummed as I settled in, and he plopped down as gracefully as a man his size could beside me. He grunted in response, as usual.

“Nice night,” he commented after a moment of silence.

“A little cool,” I shrugged, rubbing my arms swiftly to warm myself up.

“I bet it is, in that dress.”

I rolled my eyes, “What’s wrong with my dress?”

“It’s just clear what your intentions for that date were before you realized he was a loser.”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. I know you’ve been thinking about me. I know that wouldn’t have stopped you.”

My breath caught in my throat. What an absolute asshole.

“Who’s cocky now?” I huffed, “I have not been thinking about you.”

“Liar.”

My eyes shot up, “You’re the one who keeps coming back for more. I live here. I work here. I’m not choosing this, you are.”

“I never said I don’t think about you,” his voice was low. “I just said you think about me, and you’re trying real hard to deny it.”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever.”

“Gotta keep that man eating reputation up, huh? You hate that I see right through you.”

“I didn’t come here to be criticized.”

“I’m not criticizing you.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Talking.”

I turned away from him, pulling my knees to my chest, exposing my ass to the world but I didn’t have a care to give. He slipped his jacket off, though, draping it over me, protecting my modesty and warming me up. It was the same one from the very first time I saw him. “Thank you.”

“Do you ever worry that all that teasing you do is gonna piss the wrong person off? Seems like it already has a time or two.”

“I’ve told you before, I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can, darlin’. Just wondering why you do it is all.”

“I don’t wanna be psychoanalyzed.”

“I’m not psychoanalyzing, I’m asking.”

I thought for a moment, “You know? I don’t have an answer for you.” He just stared. “You’ve got your secrets, and I’ve got mine.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“When you open up some, though, I’ll be happy to spill my guts about what daddy and mommy did to make me this way.”

He let out a light chuckle, and I loved the sound of it. The way it sounded like a secret because he so seldom let it out.

“One day a long time from now, we’ll make it a date.”

As his words settled in, I realized I couldn’t wait for that day to come.

[ivymarquis]

Steel Magnolia

Ch 1| I don't mix business and pleasure

Pairing| Soap x Honey Rating| Eventual Smut Word Count| 1.4k Content/Warnings| The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent (I'm still dialing it in, RIP. If any of my readers are Scottish and wanna beta hmu lmao). Honey is one of those Reader/OC hybrid characters where it is established she is a southern American, plus sized nurse who is on the shorter side but has no other physical descriptors and should read as POC friendly (if I miss something, lemme know!) I have been wanting to write this for a hot minute and always was going to have the dialogue "I'm going to marry her", so seeing @glitterypirateduck have "I'm going to marry you" as one of the prompt options for Soap It Up pretty much solidified that I needed to have my first chapter for Steel Magnolia line up for the challenge!

This chapter is SFW but I am an MDNI account

Soap has an ever mounting suspicion that these blood drives are just an excuse to give the baby nurses more practice sticking people.

Like many in the military, he doesn’t consider himself a hard stick. All the time in the gym paired with a routine schedule on base, he and many other soldiers typically get nurses drooling over his veins like the weird little vampires that they are.

Lucky him- he’s got one of the FNGs, a skittish mess who seems terrified if he looks at her too long even though she’s the one with the damn 17g needle and he’s the one that’s got to sit there and take it.

A group of soldiers on the way out had been bitching and moaning about how the charge nurse was a raging cunt, and given how those soldiers were Americans, that has a bit more teeth to it than coming from someone more local. 

He’s not entirely positive which one of the nurses is the alleged fire breathing dragon, but it’s fairly obvious which are the more senior nurses. Which only further reinforces his suspicions about being used as a pin cushion.

Soap’s a model patient as she scrubs his arm with the antiseptic. Even though he’s had worse happen in the line of duty, he still isn’t a fan of having a needle shoved into his arm. 

He sits like a statue as she ties the tourniquet around his arm. Takes a sharp inhale and lets it out as she goes to stick him.

There’s no flashback, and the needle bites. 

Fucking great. 

He and the FNG both stare at the butterfly like the flashback will magically appear, Soap flexing his fingers in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort in his arm despite the logical part of his brain knowing that’s not how it works. 

What the hell. 

“‘S supposed to be stinging like that, nurse?” He asks, really as a prompt to make her do something to reposition the needle. He’s mindful of his tone. 

The FNG blanches, like his words have dragged her back to the world of the living. She pulls the needle back before advancing forward again.

Nothing, again, but the bite from the needle stings even worse this time and he doesn’t totally manage to stifle the pained hiss that escapes.

Her nerves seem totally shot at this point, like she’s bracing for Soap to snap at her before turning in search of one of the more experienced nurses (which, in his defense, Soap does not believe he’s done anything to warrant that response). “Honey? Can I borrow you for a second?”

The nurse in question turns her head at the sound of her name and suddenly Soap is not at all concerned about the sting in his arm.

He can’t help that he’s got a type and it’s impossible to miss how she checks all the boxes appearance wise. He’s always been a sucker for a pretty face and a wide ass; given that Honey had been facing away from them, he’s got an excellent view of both when she reacts to her name being called. What can he say? He’s always had a soft spot for big soft girls 

As she strides towards Soap and the FNG, he can tell by the look on her face that she’s already trying to judge the situation.

Maybe this is the nurse that got the American soldiers riled up (perhaps they had riled her up by snapping at the skittish FNG- all conjecture, but seems plausible enough to him). She’s more than welcome to give Soap that sharp eyed, cutting expression whenever. 

Christ he hasn’t even said a word to her and he’s already got it bad.

“What’s up?” Honey asks and Soap thinks he hears a southern drawl but the two words aren’t entirely enough to confirm that theory. Definitely American though. 

“His vein keeps rolling and I can’t get it. I don’t want to go fishing, can you get it?”

“Well I can always try,” she answers before reaching up for the station behind them for sanitizer and gloves. Definitely southern. 

“Scooch,” she kindly instructs the FNG before stepping into her place beside Soap.

He knows he’s staring (there’s also a part of him keyed in to the fact that Ghost is watching from the next chair over) and he needs to act like a normal fucking person. 

“I’m Honey, I’m one of the nurses. Let’s see if we can’t get this needle where it’s supposed to be, hm?” She introduces herself before feeling on his arm, the FNG hovering over her. 

“Sounds like a plan tae me, bonnie,” Soap says, deciding immediately that he could happily listen to her talk for hours. 

Her attention shifts to the FNG, and given how she’s got a hold of the wings of the needle he decides to let her work in peace. 

“See how I've got these fingers placed like this? You wanna make sure you’ve got it anchored good so it doesn’t roll on ya,” she instructs while positioning herself. 

“Then we’ll just pull back and adjust the angle real quick and-“ To her credit, he can barely feel the needle moving as she slides the bevel right where it's supposed to be, “there. Good flashback. Check it and hook him up.”

Clearly she managed to get the needle placed as his blood damn near shoots down the tubing when they let up on the twist to check it. 

“Alrighty then,” she pauses, eyes flicking to where his name is on the screen before reading it out, “Sergeant MacTavish, you are ready to roll.”

He decides immediately he likes hearing her say his name and wants to hear it again. 

“My friends call me Soap,” he informs her, sensing she’s likely going to wander off and wanting to continue the conversation.

The snort that escapes her is adorable. “How on earth did you end up with that as a nickname?”

It’s a question he often gets when he introduces himself. Soap is such a funny name and it’s all fun and games until he tells people “It’s cause Ah clean house.”

Of course, he’s learned to be very deliberate in how he announces that tidbit, and he’s mindful of it now. Gotta be careful when pointing out that he’s good at eliminating an obstacle. Usually giving his best smile and a disproportionately bright tone helps deflect from the implication of his answer. 

Her expression quickly morphs to one of fair enough, although he’s still not quite ready to end the conversation and prompts her to keep talking. 

“Assumin’ Honey’s not yer government name, how’d ye get that for a nickname?”

One of her eyebrows quirks up, and Soap finds himself holding his breath as she’s obviously assessing him. But he knows he’s a good looking fellow so naturally assumes she’s impressed with what she sees. 

“Depends who you ask,” she answers cryptically. “Some will tell you it’s because I'm so sweet when the mood strikes,” Steaming Jesus he really could listen to her drawl for hours “and others will tell you it’s short for honeybadger. Depends on how I’m feeling, really.”

Welp, that’s it. He’s officially in love.

The FNG has him hooked and going as his blood drains, although Soap’s attention remains solely on Honey. 

“What time does yer shift end?” He’s always dived head first for what he wants- and he is completely unashamed of how much he wants her despite not knowing she existed 15 minutes ago. 

In an instant the pleasant not-quite-flirty tone disappears as her face slips into a more neutral expression, and Soap can feel the rejection coming before she opens her mouth and he just wants to know why when she was fine bantering with him a moment ago. 

“Sorry soldier boy, I don’t mix business and pleasure.” She states simply before standing to leave. 

Well isn’t this a shit situation for him. Given he’s tethered by the needle in his arm, it’s not like he has much choice but to watch her leave (although- if he’s being completely honest it’s not like he’s really complaining about getting to watch those hips move as she walks).

It’s not even like he’s an admit, for fuck’s sake, but Soap also isn’t a feral animal who’s going to yell across the room to get a pretty girl’s attention. He’ll get an opportunity to make his case. 

“Oof, shut down,” Gaz ribs from one side, with Ghost incredulously chiming in with a “Whomp whomp,”  at how Honey had so firmly brushed him off. 

“Oh please. A’m going tae marry her.” Soap asserts wistfully. 

“I’m no expert in women, Johnny,” Ghost starts and Soap just knows he’s not going to like what comes next, “but I’m pretty sure you need to get her to agree to drinks first.”

“Fair enough, LT.”

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[j0hnj4ej3n]

haechan: enemies to lovers

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Haechan is a little mean, mentions of toxic and abusive relationship (please don't read or interact if you're uncomfortable)

Notes: this is Haechan's part of 'nct dream as love tropes', enjoy!

You first got to know Haechan through Renjun, and truth be told, you never really liked the guy. He was too loud, too much of a jokester and just loved to get on everyone’s nerves for laughs. You had no idea why a guy like Renjun would even have someone like Haechan as a friend. You tried to keep a distance between you and Haechan since you didn’t have the best impression of him. But he caught on pretty fast and instead of accepting the fact that not everyone had to be his friend, he almost made it his purpose in life to annoy the shit out of you. To Haechan, if you didn’t want to be his friend, then he’d gladly be your enemy. He doesn’t try to break your friendship with Renjun or anything (he isn’t actually evil) but he would make sure to give you a hard time whenever you’re around. 

You like studying with the guys because they were all always really willing to help you when you struggle with work. With the exception of Haechan, it’s like he was there only to make sure you felt worse about yourself. “Mark, can you help me with this?” “Oh yeah, of course.” And Haechan would lean over to look at the question you need help with only to chuckle. “What’s so funny?” “You can’t even solve that? Are you stupid?” “You’re an asshole.” “Oh, I know.” And Renjun would hit his head with a pen, “Enough, you literally failed Math too.” Your eyes widened and you retorted, “The audacity to call me stupid when you did worse than me.” “Okay, who cares?! I’m improving!”  

Haechan never misses the chance to tease you. And even though you know he usually doesn’t mean any harm, you simply hate it. “Wow, your hair looks different today… Who are you trying to impress?” “You can never just compliment me without trying to get on my nerves can you?” “Me? Complimenting you? Dream on~” He said before he ruffled your hair and ran away, messing up the braids you spent all morning getting right, “HEY! You- GET BacK HERE!”

But you’ve never hated Haechan more than today. You never knew he could be this nosy nor this aggravating. 

You have your hood on as you walk into school in the summer heat and you walk briskly with your head down, hoping to reach class as quickly as possible. You’re turning the corner when you bump into someone’s shoulder, you look up to apologise when you realise it was none other than Lee Haechan. 

“Watch where you’re going man.” “Fuck off.” “Damn… why so pissy today?” Haechan only grows intrigued and shuffles to block your way as you try to walk away. You keep your head down as you shoved your way past him. “Hey, I was talking to you,” he said as he pulled your hood off, you panicked and scurrily pulls it back on, trying to hide your face. “Don’t do that!” “Why are you even wearing a hoodie anyway, it’s literally so hot today.” “It’s none of your business.” Haechan only pulls your hood again to push your buttons when he finally spots it. And you can tell he saw it because the usual smug grin he wears is wiped off his face. 

“Why do you have a bruise on your cheek? What happened?” “Nothing,” you say as you attempt to walk away again, only for Haechan to pull you in the opposite direction and into the janitor’s room. 

“Let go of me, you-” “Who did that to you?” “I fell.” “Do you think I’m stupid? Don’t lie to me.” You’ve never seen Haechan so serious before except that one time the boys were debating about if we have one butt or two butts. He adorns a frown on his face and his eyes never leave your face, as if scanning to make sure you’ll tell him the truth. “It’s your new boyfriend isn’t it?” “N-no…” “Did he hit you?” “No, he didn’t. It was just an accident, okay?” “Break up with him.” You stare at Haechan like he’s crazy. “If he’s hurting you, you have to leave him.” “I told you it was an accident. Why do you care so much anyways?” “Oh, is it a CRIME now to be a decent human being?” “Whatever.” You say as you try to leave the room. “Don’t be stupid, if he really did that… If he’s really hurting you, you and I both know it’s not going to be the last time.” You glare at him, you’re so angry you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Haechan has no idea what your relationship is like and has no right to tell you what to do. “For the last time, it was an accident. If you can do one nice thing for me today, I would love it if you could just leave me alone.” You tell him with gritted teeth and walk out of the janitor’s room, slamming the door behind you.    

Haechan doesn’t talk to you for the rest of the day and you don’t try to interact too much with anyone, other than Renjun. Afterall, he’s the only one who knows the truth. Your boyfriend has really poor control over his anger and when you two would have a small disagreement, it could turn nasty really quickly. He has a habit of throwing things and this time, when he was busy throwing stuff around to vent his anger, something flew and hit you right on your cheek. That’s what caused the bruising, he never tried to hurt you. Your boyfriend loves you, he’ll never do anything to hurt you on purpose. 

“What did y’all even fight about this time? Why did he have to throw it at you?” Renjun asked as he gently spread the medical cream on your cheek. “He’s just having a hard time recently…” Renjun only sighs, he’s worried and he hates your boyfriend at this point but nothing really gets through to you. So all he can do is support you emotionally and look out for you in ways he could. “Please… if it gets bad, you can’t stay y/n. It’s not safe.” “I’m fine, I know how to handle him.” 

You don’t join the boys to study after school today, all you want to do is go home and sleep these conflicting feelings away, so you do. And when Haechan and Renjun are alone, waiting for the other guys to arrive after their classes, Haechan almost explodes. “You knew about y/n’s boyfriend and you’re not doing anything about it?” “I have no idea what you’re taking about…” Haechan only scoffs, “I saw you helping her with the bruise.” Renjun is searching his mind for another excuse. “Don’t try lying for her, I already saw it.” “What am I supposed to do anyway? She doesn’t listen and she likes him so much…” “Why don’t we jump the guy?” “You’re crazy, have you seen him? Even if we got the guys involve, we might lose.” “So you’re leaving y/n to fend for herself? She’s smaller than all of us.” “He’s not hitting her,” Renjun starts but Haechan doesn’t even give him a chance. “Not yet, no matter what, she already got hurt. That’s bad enough…” Haechan has his hands in his hair and Renjun eyes him carefully. 

“Wait… why are you so stressed? I thought you hated her.” “You’re not worried?” “Of course I am, but this is a first for you.” Haechan ruffles his own hair in frustration, “I just have such a bad feeling about this… and contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually hate her.” The rest of the boys soon arrive and Renjun makes Haechan promise not to tell anyone. So he keeps quiet, he knows it’s not his place to expose you like that but he never stopped thinking about you for the rest of the day. 

The two of you never got along well but realising your situation changed something in him. He teased you less and quietly looked out for you more, the lack of bruises on you eases him. Damn it, even a smile from you now just makes him feel more at peace. Right now, his purpose had changed. It didn’t matter if you still aren’t fond of him, Haechan just wanted to protect you. 

It was like deja vu, Haechan was always one to reach school early. It wasn’t like he loved attending lessons or anything. He simply enjoyed being the first to be in the empty classroom, having some time to himself before the school day officially starts. Moreover, he loved getting his breakfast from the canteen and indulging in it without his mother rushing him like she does at home. He just dropped his bag off at his seat and was even whistling on his way out to order his breakfast when he bumped into someone. 

“Oh, sorry I-” but he couldn’t even bring himself to finish his sentence when he looks down and is met with your teary eyes, your face adorning a bruise bigger than the previous one from a few weeks ago. Haechan wanted to say anything to break the silence but he couldn’t even bring himself to speak. What could he say to make you feel better? He was never one to be too kind with his words. You broke the silence first, “H-he hit me.” Haechan could hear his heart shatter. He has never seen you like this. Eyes filled with tears, lips quivering. Your arms wrapped across your chest, almost as if you’re trying to comfort yourself. Even now, he could tell you’re trying to hold back your tears. You might have been small in size but you were always feisty, strong, would not let anyone mess with you. Almost instinctively Haechan pulled you into a gentle hug, patting your shoulder, still thinking of what to say and having nothing else except, “I’m sorry.” 

You finally allowed yourself to cry, with Haechan’s body shielding you, you let your emotions go. Haechan didn’t even mind if you were staining his uniform with your tears, he continued patting your shoulder, whispering things like “you’re okay”, “you’re safe” until you calmed down. After that Haechan ran to get his breakfast and even got a set for you as well. 

“What do I do now?” you ask after a few moments of silence. Haechan replies with his mouth stuff with bread, “Just fucking leave him, what else do you want to do?” You glance up at him, “But I-” “No, y/n please… You know what’s the right thing to do.” “I’m scared…” Haechan reaches out to put his hand over yours, “You’ll be fine, and I’ll be here. Promise.” 

So you did, both Renjun and Haechan sat by you while you broke up with your boyfriend over text that very afternoon. He didn’t take it very well but it doesn’t matter. He even had the audacity to reply, sending you nasty words and insults. Haechan wanted to call him and give him a piece of his mind but Renjun had to tell him not to make matters worse. 

From that day on, you were terrified to walk home alone, fearing that your ex would come looking to confront you. So Haechan took it upon himself to accompany you. It was really strange at first since you two were never really close. But you were grateful for him. If he wasn’t so nosy, things might have gotten a lot worse. Haechan still pisses you off from time to time but it’s all just banter. The talks you have while Haechan walks you home made you realise that Haechan isn’t that big of an asshole. That he actually has a mature bone in him, that he cares a lot about those around him, he’s smart and witty. He never fails to make you laugh, even if it comes with teasing. 

Eventually, it went from walking you home to watching dramas with you in your living room. Or hanging out and studying in your bedroom. After a couple of months, your mum even invited him to dinner. By then, Haechan whines whenever he has to leave you. “Come on, we’ll see each other tomorrow.” You tell him as he refuses to stop hugging you, “That’s like 10 hours away from you…” “Exactly, that’s less than a day, Haechan.” “Haechan? It’s baby to you, I don’t go by Haechan anymore.” “Stop, I’m not used to it yet…” Haechan finally pulls away just so he can look at you getting all shy. 

At some point in time, it was obvious to the both of you that you two very quickly crossed from being enemies, to frenemies, to friends and over to something more. So after being invited to dinner, Haechan confessed to you that very night. And that was it. Nothing much changed really, he still teases you to no end. And you bite back at his comments just as quickly. But now, you two just hold hands and hug from time to time. You two never officially told your friends yet but you’re both sure Renjun already caught on. 

Watching you get all shy from his previous comment has Haechan melting and he decides to let you off for now. “Alright, I’ll leave now… I’ll be back in exactly 10 hours!” You laugh at his cheeky expression and jokingly pretend to chase him out of your house. But deep down, you can’t wait to see him again the next morning. He is finally out your door and he gives you one last hug before he leaves, you wave him goodbye until you can’t see him anymore, reminding him to text you when he gets home safely. 

[9:15pm] my super cool bf <3: i’m home baby

[9:15pm] my super cool bf <3: i’ll come pick you up again tmr, we can walk to school together!

[9:16pm] you: good, rest well baby 

[9:16pm] you: i miss you already 

[9:16pm] my super cool bf <3: now you call me baby… but i miss you too T-T

[9:17pm] you: shut up, this is me trying

[9:17pm] my super cool bf <3: i know you love me 

[9:17pm] you: unfortunately, i do

[sebsallowapologist]

Little Bird || Part 2

A little jealous Sebastian 🤍

Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader • 7th Year • Friends to Lovers

warnings: cursing, feelings of insecurity

——————————

I must have made this damn potion eight hundred times. And each time it came out worse and worse. If I didn’t know any better I would say it looks like I was TRYING to do a bad job. Professor Sharp and the rest of the class had left a while ago, not willing to miss his evening meal over watching me struggle with something most students could grasp in their third year.

I stare into the cauldron of black, bubbling goo and contemplate just sticking my head in it, if I’m lucky it’ll boil my brain and then I’d never have to make another potion again.

“Oh yikes.” Garreth mutters, coming to a halt next to my table, the only one who stayed after class. I’m guessing to work on whatever his next concoction was. 

“Thanks Gareth.” I mumble, tossing in another spoonful of the ingredient closest to me, trying to make it look like I knew what I was doing and that I wasn’t some idiot staring back at her reflection in her cauldron. I stir the potion again, but this time my spoon doesn’t come back intact, the goo monster I’ve created eats away at the metal, so I’m left with just the handle. “Fuck.”

“Can I- would you like-“ he rubs the back of his neck and he tries to frame his question. “If you're offering help I’ll gladly take it.” I sigh, cutting him off. He doesn’t need to feel embarrassed, I was the one who wanted to crawl out of my skin. The quicker this potion was done the better.

“I am. Offering that is.”

“Thank god.”

I sit down on the stool next to the table and slump over as Gareth gets rid of my last horror show of an attempt. “It’s really quite easy...”

“So I’m just stupid?”

“I would never say THAT.” Gareth chuckles and starts preparing his ingredients, not even needing to look at the recipe. “Gareth, can you make me something that just fixes my brain so I understand these lessons? We’re barely at the start of term and I’m already lost. For Merlin’s sake- this is review!”

“Give yourself more credit, you missed the first four years of your education.” He said softly, not looking up from the cutting board.

“We can’t keep using that as an excuse for me.” I sigh and take off my robe. Anytime I couldnt figure something out, everyone loved using me being a late bloomer as an excuse. Magic manifested later for me, and it was like I was everyones broken doll, they all knew what happened in year five- being the hero of Hogwarts was a fluke. 

I simply hard a different magic than others- I wasn’t extraordinary, I was lucky. The shine of it had all work off a long time ago.

Gareth glanced over at me, then back and the cauldron, then back at me. “C'mon. You do the mixing, I'll do the measuring.” He pulled me up from the stool and stood me next to the cauldron, a fresh un-melted spoon in my hand.

“Bless you, Weasley.”

With his careful instructions we finally finish the potion and I tried to steadily pour it into the tiny vial, but I was exhausted, my hand was cramping from doing a hundred counter clockwise turns, and then a hundred more clockside stirs. My hand holding the tiny glass container won’t stop shaking. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, wanting to give up on the whole thing.

Garreth takes his hand and covers my own, helping me hold steady. I glance up and mumble “thank you”, before gently tipping my hand and pour the potion. Once I’m done I let out the breath I was holding out and looked up at Gareth. Before I can say anything someone clears their throat at the entrance of the classroom.

Sebastian is standing there, tie loose around his neck. “Bird, you weren’t at dinner.”

“Yeah I was busy failing potions.” I sigh and put the stopper on my vial. It’s about now when I realize just how close Gareth and I are standing. I blush and take a step back. “Thank you for your help. Maybe I’ll graduate this year.” I smile- walking over to the professor's desk to drop off my finished work.

“You could have found me for help.” Sebastian said as I walked over to him, grabbing my bag and cloak on the way. He runs his hand gently down my back in greeting. I shrug. Of course he’d be able to help. The ever- brilliant professor's son.

“I’m happy to help.” Gareth said. His voice sounded deeper than it had just a few moments ago. “Since you’re not in this potions class. You don’t know the coursework.”

“I’m taking private classes with Sharp.” Sebastian smiled. “Anything she needs help with I can pick it up.” Sebastian had a lot of those, the private lessons. After Sebastian worked to turn his shit around last year Sharp had taken an interest, impressed with Seb getting serious about training to be ‘the greatest auror the world had ever seen’ or at least that's what he said..

“Do you think they’re still serving food? I’m starved.” And tired of listening to this who’s better at potions battle. Men.

Sebastian breaks eye contact with Gareth to look down at me, frowning. “I think they’re all done serving. We-“

“I haven’t eaten either. I can accompany you to dinner. Somewhere in Hogsmeade maybe?” Gareth interrupts, looking down at me. I guess the contest wasn’t over.

Sebastian shoots him a look that could kill. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. “That's nice of you- but I’m dead tired. I think I’ll head off to bed.”

“Right- right. Well. Goodnight then.” Gareth mutters standing there for one more too awkward second before ducking out of the classroom, leaving Sebastian and I alone. “You’re gone to bed?” he chuckles, knowing I couldn’t be serious.

I roll my eyes and grab his cloak, dragging him out of the classroom and toward the room of requirement.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Sensing my hunger the room had sandwiches, butterbeer and snacks laid out for our arrival. I grab a few things and walk toward my meadow. “Are you coming?” I ask Sebastian, who’s eyeing the candies the room put out.

“Sometimes I get overwhelmingly jealous of your room, you know if I ever come here alone I don’t get this kind of treatment. And Deek always gives me a look..”

“I’m glad.” I giggle “If it’s coming from Deek I’m sure you deserve it.” I walk through the door that leads me to my meadow, filled with Mooncalfs. Sebastian follows close behind.

“How were the beasties over the summer?” He asks, bending down to pat one gently on the head.

“Deek said very well behaved, but of course missed me terribly.” I conjure some treats and let all my little friends have dinner with us before settling in the grass to eat my own food.

“Smart little things.” Sebastian smiled and sat down next to me. As always we sat back to back, using each other's weight to prop ourselves up. Just like we did for hours and hours after everything that happened in year five. Facing away from each other, admitting what terrible things we had to do, those marks we carried on our soul forever. It got easier to deal with the farther away we got from it, but it was always there, the thing that always bound us.

“Thought for a thought.” I say and take a bite of my sandwich. A little game we played, passing back the things that flew through our heads.

“I'm very happy to be home.” I smile, starting us off. “I feel so empty, and lonely all summer.”

“You live in London.” He sighs. “I don’t understand how you can feel lonely there.”

Because you’re not there. Was the answer, but it was his turn to say a thought outloud.

“I’m very happy to not be alone anymore either." he mumbles, and I look down at the grass. I put my hand on top of his, curling my fingers in a comforting squeeze.

[toastnpretzels]

A Little Hope

Crosshair x reader imagine, hunter x reader (platonic)

masterlist

Warnings: angst, nothing other than that really. I tried to keep it gender neutral.

Word count: about 1.1k

Author’s note: So I haven’t written anything like this since middle school but I really do enjoy writing and reading so I thought it would give it a shot. Let me know what you guys think. This one kind of came out of nowhere, I was feeling pretty sad and just started writing. Hope you guys enjoy!

I’m going to try to start writing more in my free time so if you have any requests or suggestions for writing feel free to send them! I can’t promise I will get to them seeing as I do work full time and I’m in school but I will do my best. I will only be writing for the clones as of right now, but maybe I will branch out at some point when I feel more confident in my writing abilities.

Summary: You and Hunter talk about your feelings for Crosshair.

The Marauder is quiet. Everyone is asleep. Everyone except you and Hunter who is on watch. The blanket wrapped around you becomes too hot. You sit up and lean against the wall of your bunk. It is hard to say what keeps you awake. Maybe it is because you are not tired. You know that’s not true. You can feel the exhaustion throughout your entire body. Running job after job for Cid is making you exhausted. Maybe you just can’t fall asleep. Maybe it is because he isn’t here. Crosshair isn’t here. The mere thought of him coming back is what is keeping you up. You need him to sleep. You need him to wrap his arms around you and whisper how he feels to you. You miss him. You need him back. It’s exhausting you more than the jobs to miss him, more than anything has ever exhausted you. Waking up without him is hurting you more than anything. Trying to hold on to hope for his return is only making it worse. It’s been months. You know he is not coming back, but yet the voice in the back of your head endures.

He will come home.

He misses you, just as you miss him.

He is ok. He isn’t hurt. He is protected.

But there is another voice in your head.

He doesn’t care. He never did.

You try push that one as far back as possible. Its not fair to him for you to think that, but you can’t help it. What if he needs you? What if he tries to reach out?

He won’t. Stop waiting for him. He made his choice.

But what if the chip is still controlling him?

But what if it isn’t?

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

Hunter’s voice snaps you out of your self-loathing thoughts. You didn’t even hear him walk in.

“I don’t think your heightened senses work that way,” you reply sarcastically. You feel bad that he has seen you like this, but it’s not the first time. It is like this most nights.

“You can talk to me you know. All of us for that matter. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he says.

“I know. It’s – it’s just so hard.” You force yourself to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over. Maker, when did I become so emotional. Probably the day we were split apart. You don’t even know when you started to cry, but it’s happening more and more as of recent.

Of course, Hunter notices the tears. Nothing slips past him. Him and his damned heightened senses. He wipes them from your cheeks.

“I miss him,” you whisper. You miss him so badly. You’ve never missed someone this badly. It hurts more than anything you’ve faced. It tears you apart, rips right through your heart. Everything you’ve felt the last few months without him comes spilling out. Every emotion, every thought, comes out in the form of tears that won’t stop spilling. You hate that you’re crying in front of Hunter. You should be asleep right now.

But Hunter is right here. And he keeps on wiping your tears. He moves to sit in your bunk. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around you. He was never taught how to comfort anyone. They don’t teach that on Kamino. He rubs your back, it’s what feels right in this moment, a comforting gesture nonetheless. He feels tears start to form in his own eyes. He feels guilty within himself, just as he has every waking moment. He shouldn’t have left Crosshair there on that platform. He should’ve forced him to come with, stunned him and dragged him along. They don’t leave their own behind. He feels like he has played some part in ruining your life along with Crosshair’s. He knows Crosshair loved you. He has never seen him act in a way that was so soft for anyone else. He remembers the first few times he seen you both together. Crosshair kept you a secret for so long, only to hide how he became soft around you. Seeing you both together for the first time was a shock to him. It was weird seeing someone with so much happiness wrapped around Crosshair, but then he saw the way he looked at you. Crosshair showing emotion other than annoyance or sarcasm? It was a shock to everyone to see how much love Crosshair showed you. Short kisses and hugs, random little gifts he would bring back from missions, his devotion of all of his free time to you. He could see the love Crosshair held for you plastered across his face. And you showed it right back. He had never seen two people so in love with each other. He knew from that moment that you were something special. All he wanted was for you and Crosshair to have a happy ending. He did everything he could to make sure Crosshair came home alive for you. Every time they weren’t on a mission, Crosshair was with you. Hunter had walked in multiple time to him talking to you on holocalls in between missions. Hunter began to think of you as family. All of his brothers adored you. He adored you. You became family to all of them. But now this family was broken. He is trying to fix it while simultaneously keeping it together. He wants Crosshair back just as much as you do. He wants Crosshair to see you with Omega. He wants him to see you in a life without the war. He wants everyone to settle down on a planet away from the Empire. He wants everyone to be together. He wants Crosshair back with his brothers and the one that loves him, back with you. Hunter didn’t even realize that he is now crying as well.

“Hunter… It’s not your fault.” You never blamed him once. He has made the best out of this situation. You know he can’t control it. He can’t make Crosshair come back.

“I still feel like apart of it is. Just know that a day doesn’t go by where I don’t think of him. If there is ever another moment where we can get him back, we will. I promise.” Hunter leans back and rubs his eyes wet with tears. He never lets himself cry. He feels so vulnerable, but he feels better now that he has let it out. They should have really taught them how to handle emotions on Kamino.

It once again becomes silent throughout the ship. You sit together for a little while longer, both calming down after the overwhelming emotions. You start to feel the tiredness steep into your mind once again. Hunter gets up and says good night as you begin to drift off. You will finally sleep tonight. Your negative thoughts cease to exist, replaced by happier memories. You have hope.

Crosshair will come home.

[misscherrys-world]

Welcome back to:

Random things I think about.

Starring: The fourth prince of Kakin empire, Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou.

Warnings : Tserriednich.

Yes that’s it he’s the warning.

Okay just kidding… but he’s a warning himself.

Warnings: nsfw, spoilers from the manga obviously, abusing behavior, spitting, rape mentioning. If there’s something I missed inform me about it plz.

This one took longer than I thought to have the courage to say my random thoughts about that man. Turned out he’s complicated.

First let’s talk about his amazing muscular body. He’d crash me with just one hand effortlessly.

Sometimes I hope Togashi would let Hisoka and Tserried meet and fight. I’d die from excitement.

Poor Theta, I’m genuinely worried about her fate. I think she’ll help Kurapika get closer to the Prince so they can kill him.

Also poor Pika, I’m worried what will happen to him when he sees Pairo’s head..

That man is worse than the five threats. I hope he’ll stay alive until they reach the dark continent so they let him die alone and painfully there.

By surprise he has friends? Like how did they tolerate his ass talk about male philosophers? Boring hypocrites.

So I ended my trash talk about him. Let’s start my random things I think about.

I think he does have skin care and hair care routine like Patrick Bateman from American Psycho.

They look too much alike. The hair, the face, the body, the bloodlust.

I think he takes interest in music too. Not any genre of music. Classical music to be precise, his favorite musician is Mozart. Typical

He doesn’t like dogs. He thinks they are too clingy, useless and stinky. I bet a dog bit him when he was a kid.

Doesn’t like kids. Annoying, useless and stupid. Yeah Unma dropped you on your head for sure.

He gets grossed out when someone talks about women’s menstrual cycle.

He gets the ick when he smells certain feminine perfumes like “La vie est belle and Scandal” so typical every damn woman smells like these two.

His favorite perfume is Versace Eros eau de parfum.

His favorite feminine perfume is YSL Libre eau de parfum Intense.

He owns a big collection of hand watches.

Despite his “hobby” he wouldn’t practice it on someone related to him. Friend, family, mistress..

Speaking of his mistress. It would be very difficult to satisfy him. His lover should have certain qualifications that go along with the image he painted himself to deceive people, and of course his lover herself.

He’s homophobic. But he secretly takes liking in men more than women. I don’t make the rules.

Doesn’t mean he’s not into women.

His s/o must be a woman. Royal reasons obv.

When it comes to sex he is selfish.

Fucks you like an animal in heat, and insults your entire family line while fucking you.

He’s abusive. If you did or say something that isn’t acceptable to his taste expect a slap on your face when you’re alone with him. He would spit on you too.

You can’t get away from him, you’re trapped.

He will remind you how lucky you are, nobody gets the privileges you have or the insane amount of spending you spend everyday, all thanks to him.

He’s generous enough to let you do shopping and get all these clothes and makeup without asking what do you spend all these money on.

But he will not tolerate ignorance and misbehaved brats like you.

Of course you finally knew exactly who you are in a relationship with.

He doesn’t mind raping you, he sees you as one of his belongings he has the right to do anything he wants with you. Your opinion doesn’t matter.

Sometimes he gets a soft spot for you, after a “silly argument” and another abusive episode he will catch you crying where no one can see you, he will hug you and pat your head while saying he’s sorry.

After you’re finished crying he’ll give you a soft kiss on your lips, and says he won’t hit you again.

Of course he’ll do it again. Sometimes he’ll threaten you with a gun or a knife. It gets worse by time.

Tell me what do you think and send me your headcanons too. 🤍🎀

[holylulusworld]

Blood Rush (2) – Nightly activities

Summary: You are no one to mess with. And you hate vampires.

Pairing: Eric Northman x FBIAgent!Reader

Warnings: language, the reader hate vampires, talk about crimes/criminals, cocky Eric, tension, enemies to lovers trope, implied torture, implied character’s death, mentions of past attempted murder/violence against the reader

A/N: Here we go with a mini-series about my fav vampire.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Part 2/?

<< Part 1

“Come on, do something illegal already,” you whisper to yourself. Your newest hobby is to watch Eric Northman stroll through town to do...well nothing. You had hoped the blood sucker would commit a crime getting him arrested.

No such luck.

“How about you have a taste of that girl, huh?” while Eric talks to some girl, you press the stake you made to your chest, waiting for your chance. “She looks ready to get eaten. Just try to attack her and I can—”

He’s suddenly gone. Seconds ago, he was talking to the girl, and now he just disappeared. 

“Evening, princess,” he chuckles behind you. You must look like a lunatic to him. Hiding behind a bush, a stake pressed to your chest you cower in the dirt to watch people. “A wonderful night, isn’t it?” 

“What do you want, sucker?” you act as if you didn’t stalk him for the better of a month. “I’m working here.”

“I can see that,” amusement evident in his voice Eric crouches down next to you to watch the girl he was talking to from afar. “What did the poor girl do?”

“That’s none of your business,” you reply. He doesn’t need to know that you were watching him all this time. “Now get out of my sight before I arrest you.”

“What for, princess?” he turns his head to look at you. “I do the same you do. I hide behind the bush. Minus the poorly carved stake in your hands.”

“Get lost.”

“Did you make that one only for me?” Eric coos in your ear. “I’m flattered, princess. I just don’t know if you are strong enough to ram it into my chest.”

“Don’t tempt me to do it right now,” you whip your head toward him to glare at Eric. “Just leave me alone, sucker.”

“How about you come back to my bar, and you can sit on a comfortable chair while watching me? It would be so much nicer than hiding behind a bush,” he runs his index finger along your neck. “You can have a drink and relax.”

“Your hypnosis crap won’t work on me, sucker,” that picked his interest. He furrows his brows as you slowly get up. You stretch your body, groaning as your back hurts and your shoulders are sore. “I told you; I faced worse than you and your little friends.”

“Who hurt you?” His hand moves over your back, feeling the scar you are wearing since your encounter with a real monster. “Who did this to you, princess?”

“Not a prince,” you push against his chest to get him off you, “that’s for sure.” 

You brush past Eric to get to your car. Tonight, you won’t find anything to get him arrested. He caught you red-handed and won’t take a wrong step knowing you are around.

“How about you tell me the name of the bastard giving you that scar?” he follows you toward your car, with long steps. “Princess, I want a name.”

You unlock your car, gripping the door handle. You could just drive away but you let go of the door handle to twirl around and glare at Eric. “The man giving me the scar was someone like you. A man not taking no for an answer.”

Eric gasps. He watches you get inside your car and drive away. “I’m not like that…”

It takes Eric three days, and a few favors to finally find out about the man hurting you so many years ago. 

“What do we have here?” He moves his tongue over his fangs while watching the man struggle against the chains Eric’s minions put around his prisoner’s ankles and wrists.

“A vampire?” the man gasps in surprise. “That’s a new one. Did the cops hire you to scare me?” Eric tilts his head. The man doesn’t seem to be scared or nervous. He believes this is just another trick one of your colleagues pulled to finally get him arrested. “Or was it miss FBI herself? Damn, I miss her pert ass.”

“You see, he’s not some rogue cop wanting revenge,” Pam coos. She’s sliding her fingers through the man’s hair, tugging harshly, making Eric’s prisoner gasp. “This is Eric Northman. He lived a thousand years, and you, are a mere ant to him. All he’s interested in is to find out what you did to his newest love interest.”

“My princess, Pam,” Eric crosses his arms over his chest. He nods at his minions, silently telling them to cut the man’s clothes off. “We will see how long you can keep that mouth shut.”

“What do you want to do, huh?” the man sneers. “Show me your fangs? We both know none of you will dare to touch one hair on my head.”

“I won’t touch you,” Pam chuckles as one of Eric’s men hands him a knife. “My knife will. I won’t leave any trace of my teeth on your body. I’ll simply rip you apart, limb by limb…”

“What do you mean with he disappeared? You promised me—” your voice cracks and you feel a cold shiver run down your spine. “How can he be gone? You were supposed to keep an eye on that monster.”

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as your colleague tells you the man attacking you is gone. It’s not the first time they lost track of him. You just have to sit and wait, and have your gun close by…

“What do you want?“ you sip at your drink, ignoring that everyone at the bar seems to watch you and Eric interact.

“Princess, you should never ask a man what he wants,” Eric presses his body to yours. “A man could tell you what he wants, or just take it.”

“Sorry, I don’t do blonde and pale,” you feel his hands on your waist. He roughly squeezes your flesh, wanting you to feel his strength. “Look for some other blood bag to give you your fill of the night.”

“I want you,” he purrs in your ear. “You’ll be mine sooner than later. I know you want to be mine, princess. All you ever wanted; I’ll give it to you. Just say the words.”

“Fuck off,” you smirk to yourself as you can hear him inhale sharply. You assume no one ever said no to Eric Northman, self-declared king of his shady castle. The vampire simply goes on your nerves and you won’t hold back.

“I chained people up for less,” Eric warns. “You’re lucky I like you and your attitude. You should just learn when to shut your mouth and give in.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you turn around to glare up at the blonde vampire. He doesn’t need to know you came to his bar to feel a little safer. “You know, there are more than enough girls lusting over you. Just go over there and choose one of them, Northman. I don’t want to be yours.”

“Stop lying to yourself,” he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. “I can smell your need, princess. Why don’t you say yes?”

“For starters,” you push his hand away, “I hate it when you call me princess. It tells me that you don’t even remember my name.”

He sneers at your words. “But you are special to me, pri—Y/N,” this time he cups the back of your neck to force you to hold his gaze. His blue eyes drop to the pulsing vein on your neck. He licks his lips, making you shudder at the intensity of his gaze. “Say that you are mine.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” Eric’s hand drops from your neck, but he takes another step closer to you. “I’m not some furniture you can buy.”

“You are about to become my queen,” he whispers in your ear. “If only you’d admit to yourself that you are drawn to me and let me show you a whole new world.”

“Thanks, I’m liking the one we are living in,” you shove his hand away when he tries to cup your cheek. “Just leave me alone…”

“Still breathing, huh?” Eric looks down at the shell of the man he captured four days ago. The man doesn’t lift his head. He simply lies on the cold concrete in the basement, not even opening his eyes. “I think it’s time for you to say goodbye.”

“I-can’t. No more,” he whimpers as Eric crouches down to slide the dull side of his favorite knife over the man’s cheek. “Please. I’ll do all you want.”

“All the women you tortured said the same, didn’t they,” the vampire coos. “Don’t worry. You told me everything I need to know. Now you can rest in hell…”

“Hello, Y/N,” you groan as Eric fucking Northman stands in front of the door of the house you rented. “I have missed your pretty face.”

“Go home.”

“Where is the fun in that?” he leans in your doorframe, admiring you in your pajama shorts and the silky top barely hiding your stiff nipples. “It’s a nice night and I thought you don’t want to spend it alone.”

“I rented a fucking house to get rid of you,” Eric chuckles darkly as you want to slam the door in his face. “What the fuck!” You mutter as he simply blocks the door with his hand.

“Yeah, about that,” he steps inside the house, smirking down at you, “I’m the owner of the house. I bought it some weeks ago. Along with every single rentable house in this sleepily little town.”

“You did what?” slamming the door shut you follow Eric. “Get out of my house!”

“No,” he says while walking inside the living room. “Oh, you’ve got a new hobby.” Eric laughs as there are pictures of him, his bar, his minions, Pam, and everyone he knows in town pinned to a large bullet board.

“You are part of an investigation,” Eric stands in front of the board, admiring your work. “Uh-you are a suspect to me.”

“Princess, we both know you are lying,” you stand next to the vampire to look at the pictures on the board. “I found him myself, Y/N.”

“Who?” you dip your head to look up at Eric. “What do you mean?”

“The man laying hands on you,” the vampire casually says as you look up at him, mouth agape. “He withstood my knife for almost half a day.”

“What?” you splutter, feeling a little lightheaded. “What did you do, Eric?”

“I made sure he can never get close to you again,” he turns and moves his hand under your silky top; fingertips grazing the scar on your back. “That monster will never touch you again. Never.” His fangs slide out and you shudder as he leans closer to graze them over your jugular. “Not even me, princess.”

“Why did you do this?”

“I had to know what happened to you,” he retracts his fangs; fighting the urge to taste your blood. “I should’ve tortured him for much longer.”

“It was my job to capture him. Instead, I got captured,” Eric traces the scar again and closes his eyes to memorize it. “He’s a sick and impotent little man. That made him turn his hatred toward women. If he can’t have them, he wanted to make sure no one else wanted them.”

“I know everything about that monster,” Eric nips at your neck. “I just don’t get how your people let him go.”

“In my world, not a single man decides on someone’s faith. Twelve random people do,” you close your eyes and let yourself fall against his chest. “He was acquitted by the court. We couldn’t believe they let him go after he tortured five women, including myself.”

“If you let me,” the vampire purrs against your throat, “I’ll protect you from this world and keep you safe in mine.”

“Oh, sweet little vampire,” you push him off you, smirking triumphantly. “You just admitted you killed a human. I knew you’d make a mistake.” 

He laughs at your antics. “You think I killed this pathetic little man,” Eric tilts his head. He smirks darkly, baring his pearl white fangs. “I never said I killed him.”

“You said-“ you grunt. “I hate you! You frustrate me so much, you little shit! Pale bastard,” Eric slowly walks toward you, eyes holding your gaze.

“You’re mine,” he whispers while reaching out for you. “Say it, Y/N. I want to hear that you want to be mine.” His eyes drop to your neck as you stand in front of the vampire, unable to move, or find your voice.

“I-“ his fingertips graze your neck, and he feels your pulse quicken as he dips his head to press his lips to yours. 

“I want you to be mine…forever…”

>> Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[thethistlegirlwrites]

You Only Live Twice

Emma tries not to look too closely at the deep gash in her forearm as she unwinds the bandage around it.

It’s nothing. She’s had worse.

She’s had worse enough times, as a hunter, to know when it’s getting infected.

It’s not bad enough for blood.

She washes it out, smears on the expired but probably still viable antiseptic cream, wraps a fresh bandage around it, then rifles through the clothes hanging from the exposed pipe that doubles as a sort of makeshift closet for a long-sleeved dress that isn’t one of the ones she’s worn the past three days. 

She’s not going to give anyone anything to talk about. She can’t afford to.

She’s only had this club eight months. Any sign of weakness, any misstep, could land her in the same position as its former owner.

So could the hunter who shows up less than half an hour after opening.

He stands out in the crowd, between the silver-laced bullwhip coiled on his hip, the massive knife sheath hanging from his belt, and the vivid crimson scars on his neck. She descends the stairs from the balcony where she’s been keeping an eye on the club business (she usually mingles more, but last night someone brushed against her arm, and she hissed, and despite being able to pass it off as being insulted at the lack of apology given on her own turf, she doesn’t want to make it a habit).

By the time she reaches the main floor, the hunter in question is sitting at the bar. He’s got a glass in front of him, but he’s not actually drinking it. A trick she’s seen him use a hundred times. Makes him a customer, so the owner can’t ask him to actually order something or leave, but he won’t get in trouble for drinking on the job.

“Stoker.”

“Heard you were moving up in the world. The industrial grunge vibe is kind of cutting-edge fashion for an upscale place. Missing that warehouse you used to party in already? Myself, I’d get some steer horns on the wall, a little space in the middle of the floor for some line dancing, and a couple vintage Eastwood western posters on the walls, but that’s just me.” 

“I didn’t ask for an interior decoration consultation.”

“You sure? I think “A Fistful of Dollars” would look perfect over that corner table.”

Coven rivalry heating up due to outside agitation. And at least one of the vamps at that table is an instigator. She has to admit, she wasn’t a fan of his classic western team bonding movie nights, but it did offer them a whole coded language to use in the field. 

Apparently, he still thinks they’re some sort of team.

But she’s on a coven borderline, and if someone ties the vamps stirring up trouble to her bar, she’ll have a lot more to worry about than a wound that won’t heal and being seen talking to a hunter. 

“I never was much of a fan of that movie. Out of town gunslingers shouldn’t be poking their noses in a town’s affairs.”

She’ll take care of the problem. Which she’s pretty sure Stoker knew would happen. He’s not appealing to a sense of justice the human Emma used to have. He’s appealing to her new nature’s self preservation instincts. 

He’s always been smarter than he looks. 

She moves to get up, but he catches her wrist, just below the bandage on her arm.

She bares her teeth.

“I’d like to see the upstairs too. Might have some pointers for that.”

There’s plenty up there for a hunter to object to. Private soundproofed rooms for parties. Emma’s put her foot down hard on any hosting happening here, and all her employees are people she trusts to do the same, but the simple fact that she left those rooms in this building could be cause for a conscientious hunter to run her in to the agency. 

“I can ask, or I can come back with justifiable cause. We’ve raided this place back when it was Corbin’s. He had host parties going on on the balcony level. Looks to me like you’ve still got doors closed up there.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“I think you do.”

He’s not looking at the doors.

He’s looking at her cheek.

Damn that tic. She chews the inside of her cheek when she’s in pain, and it makes a dimple-like divot. He’d learned a long time ago to recognize that for what it was, around the same time he benched her for a busted ankle she was insisting was a sprain. 

Apparently, some of her human habits carried over into this version.

“Fine. I’ll let you put your mind at ease so my customers don’t need to be subjected to a raid team over nothing.” She makes him go first up the stairs. No matter how much they used to trust each other, no one with a stake is getting behind her in her blind spot.

“I’m going to need to inspect each of these rooms for any residual blood,” John says, pulling a spectrum light from his pocket. Emma steps back from the glow. UV is unpleasant to be around at the best of times. It’s making her genuinely nauseous right now. 

Checking the smaller rooms, which she’s now using mostly as storage space, takes very little time. But the big room, the one she still actually does rent out to vamps who want a little more exclusivity than mingling on the first floor, is going to take a little longer.

John steps inside, then motions to her to join him and close the door.

She does, and the thumping bass from downstairs dies off. It’s nothing more than a heartbeat in here, a faint echo of the one she can hear from her former partner’s chest.

“Show me.”

“I don’t answer to you anymore.”

“I know that.”

She shakes her head but rolls up her sleeve. The bandage is starting to turn brown and yellow. 

“Some scumbag objected to being thrown out for harassing my bartender. I’ve had worse.”

“You’ve had worse as a human. Have you been hurt as a vampire before?”

“How do you think I got this place? That Corbin just walked away?”

“Heard about a raid on a blood bank two days before you took over. Whoever pulled it off got away clean. Took only one bag of the most common types, left anything rare and the universal donor.” He frowns. “Almost like they were minimizing the damage they did. Even left just enough evidence to point out the flaw in security where they got in, but not enough to be IDed.”

“I’ve heard you talk confessions out of people too many times, Stoker.”

“Not my point. My point is, you had blood. That’s why you healed. Your body isn’t going to put itself back together on its own anymore. You’re a dead woman walking, Em.” He looks at her arm. “Dead bodies don’t have an immune system. They decay.”

“So what is this? Tricking me into doing something you can run me in for? If you can prove I’m drinking human blood, it’s at best six months in your holding cells detoxing. No way I keep the club if I’m away from it that long.”

“No way you keep it if you go into a coma while some bacteria eats away at your corpse either.”

He’s got a point, as much as she hates it.

“I told you. I don’t drink human blood anymore.”

“And I don’t smoke anymore. But if an undercover calls for it, I’m gonna light up a cigarette.”

“That’s different.”

“Maintaining a cover keeps me alive. Drinking a little genuine blood is going to do the same for you. If you don’t, I guarantee you, within a day or two you won’t be able to get out of your coffin. Infections spread a lot faster in a body that can’t fight them.”

She’d seen the burgundy streaks running up and down her arm away from the wound, as much as she’d tried to ignore them.

“Thanks for the advice. You’ve given it. Now get the hell out of my club.”

“You’re stubborn enough not to take it.” Stoker reaches for his knife. She tenses, until he shrugs the shoulder of his leather jacket down his other arm and then makes a neat slice along the inside of his forearm.

Blood wells up, bright, tangy, tempting. Overpowering.

“Well, you better do something, or this is going to get all over the floor and my spectrum light is gonna turn it into a Christmas tree.”

“Blackmailer.”

“Mule-headed idiot.”

She missed that insult.

She dives forward and catches the first falling drop of blood in her palm a fraction of a second before it hits the ground.

She keeps her hands cupped below his arm as she cleans up the overflow of blood, but in moments it’s a manageable trickle. She can feel her arm putting itself back together, an agonizing ache somewhere between being burned and having glass shards pulled out of her skin one at a time, but she can also feel her body forcing out the infection.

She hadn’t realized how awful she was feeling until she isn’t anymore.

A hand holding a white sterile compress slips between her tongue and his skin, and she almost snarls and bites down on it, but she forces herself back with all her re-acquired strength. 

She’s left enough indelible marks on Stoker’s skin.

“That should hold you. You’ll get a delivery tomorrow night. A little congratulations on the new place gift from an old friend. Make sure to chill it well, it’s best served that way.”

When they leave the room together, it looks like the whole club is holding the collective breath most of them no longer actually need to take. And when Stoker opens the door, then turns to yell back, “You got away with it this time, Cole, but someday, we’re going to nail you, mark my word,” before vanishing into the night, there’s a moment’s silence and then a collective cheer.

Emma descends the stairs with her accustomed grace, simply nodding at the congratulations on surviving her first surprise inspection by hunters.

“I have nothing to hide,” she says to those who ask what cleaning service she’s getting in.

It’s true until the next night, five minutes before opening, when an unmarked van parks at the back door and rings the delivery bell. 

Carlos has to call Emma back personally to sign for the damn thing. Someone sent it certified delivery.

She waits until the club opens and her staff are busy filling orders and watching the crowd before she opens it in the privacy of her personal office.

Inside is a cold-storage pack, and inside that are two bags of shelf-stabilized blood, stamped with the O- type marker and a string of ID numbers. 

SJ 79110806007.

Only John Stoker would have been issued a double-oh-seven ID number by sheer luck of the draw.

Next time he shows up, she’s going to have a poster of “You Only Live Twice” hanging over the end of the bar.

It’ll clash with the aesthetic a little, but the sentiment fits just fine.

(You can read this story and others from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter

[winchestersworld4]

Crazy Girls on Planes

Reader gets a shock when a stranger on a plane shows her a little kindness on a bad day. 

Word Count: 6400

Would love for any other writers to jump on and help me navigate tumblr, I’ve only used fanfiction in the past, let me know if I’m totally screwing this up over here!

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“I don’t understand… I-I have my ticket?” You repeated yet again to the flight attendant as you stood in the isle of the plane while everyone loaded.

“Yes ma’am, I’m aware. Apparently, there was a glitch in the system and the same seat was booked twice. Once for you, and once for the gentlemen who’s currently seated with his friends.”

You looked up to the group of frat boys, sighing as you realized winning this battle would be just as worse of a punishment as losing it would be, anywhere else on the plane would be better than being the girl who forced their friend away.

“Is there anywhere else I can sit?” You asked with a polite smile. The last thing you wanted to do was get off of this damn plane when you worked so hard to force yourself to get on it. You knew if you got back off, there was a chance you’d call him.

You’d cave.

You’d go back.

You couldn’t let that happen, because fuck him. He doesn’t get to choose for you anymore.

“We’re gonna finish boarding everyone back here, but I think we may be able to place you in first class. We had a cancellation at the last minute.”

“Okay, thank you.” You breathed. You waited about 10 more minutes standing awkwardly at the attendant’s area until she came back for you.

“This way please.” She smiled wide. “We found a great spot for you, it is however the window. If you don’t mind?”

“No that’s fine. Anything is fine.”

“Okay, follow me then!”

You followed her to the front of the plane, sitting in the 3rd row of seats to the window against the left side of the plane. You smiled when you realized the seat next to you was empty. First class was much nicer, only two seats but the same space as the 3 seat isles, so you could breathe your own air. You preferred the isle because you get claustrophobic, you’re already terrified of planes, and you were still on edge from the dramatic break up that took place only hours ago.

You were a mess.

Anxious. Sad. Angry.

Messy bun and scrub pants, and your favorite old hoodie on in between.

Your make up was left over, and thank you Jesus for lash extensions because without them you’d look like a chronically ill person. They were the only thing giving your face some dimension right now as they contrasted with your eye color.

You sat back and closed your eyes. Angry that you had forgotten your ear buds and had taken the last of your anxiety medication on the plane ride up here.

You tried to make your mind wander as you listened to the flight attendants move about and make final preparations, but just as you were sure it was time to close up and start the safety speech someone came jogging up the aisle.

A tall man in a black cap, black jacket, and blue jeans rushed to the seat beside you. You instantly turned to face the window, not wanting to make conversation. It was obvious as he slightly huffed to catch his breath that he had almost missed the flight and was probably running through the airport from God knows where.

He settled in quietly and you could barely see him glance at you from your peripheral vision as he placed his ear buds in and the flight attendants began their speech now that all the doors were closed.

The plane began to make its way down the runway and the engine got louder and louder.

THIS was why you HAD to have your earbuds, or ear plugs, or anything to help reduce the noise. For some reason every groan of the engines and clicking noise convinced you that the engine was going to fail and you’d fall out of the sky to your death.

It was loud and overwhelming and you tried to force yourself to take deep breaths as the plane increased in speed. The wheel bumped against something on the ground and shook the cabin, you instantly reached over and grabbed the arm rests, except one of them was occupied and you grabbed a hand by mistake.

“Whoa, you okay sweetheart?” The man asked taking his ear bud out as you pulled your hand back after shortly making contact with him.

“Sorry.” You barely breathed out as you forced yourself to push air in and out of your lungs. Biting down on your lip as the wheels lifted and the plane lifted into the air.

“It’s okay, almost over.” He said as he reached down and grabbed your hand, letting you squeeze his far too hard as he rubbed his thumb in circles.

Finally, the plane became slightly calmer and more level, and you were finding yourself able to take in one solid deep breath as you opened your eyes.

“You good now?” He asked gently.

“Yes. I’m so, so sorry!” You sighed as you turned to look at him, pulling your hand away slowly as he released you. You thought you were as embarrassed as you possibly could be forcing a stranger to hold your hand because you’re a chicken shit, but no.

Oh no.

It gets so much better.

“Oh… my.” You stuttered as you finally looked up to his face. “Yo-you’re Jensen Ackles.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “That’s what my passport says.”

You looked at him, still slightly stunned as he looked back. Then you slightly leaned forward and pressed your fingers against your head as you began to laugh quietly, a sudden case of the giggles finding its way to you at the absolute worse time- now he definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“Uhhh… I don’t know if I should be insulted or not.” He mused.

“Oh. I-I am. I’m so sorry. It just…” You threw your hands up slightly. “God obviously has a sense of humor.”

Jensen stared at you with a funny look on his face before he lifted his hand to get the attention of the attendant not far from him, you watched in horror. Convinced he was going to ask for a new seat and you had hit an entirely new low in your life.

“Excuse me, can we get two jack and cokes? On my tab please.” He smiled, she nodded and he thanked her.

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously.

“Well. I’m buying you a drink, and then you’re going to tell me about God’s sense of humor.”

“That’s basically my life in one catchphrase.” You smirked.

“Well sweetheart we got about 4 hours left.” He challenged. “You obviously know my name, what’s yours?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Well (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you formally. I’m Jensen.”

“Oh, I’ve met you before.” You teased, unsure of where this confident humor was coming from since you’d been sulking or crying for the last 12 hours.

“Oh, so we’re old friends?” Jensen smiled as your drinks arrived. He pulled down his tray and set them both there in front of him. He nodded to yours as he picked his up for a swig.

“Oh no, not at all.” You said taking a small sip. “You were meeting hundreds of people that day, I probably blended into the background of your memory.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He challenged and you blushed.

“To be fair, I wasn’t acting like a lunatic that day so I may not have made the impression I’ve made today.”

“I don’t think you’re a lunatic, (Y/N). I think you’re upset. I think you need a drink and a chance to get whatever is in your head out in the open.”

You looked down and twisted your hands back and forth in your lap. Debating on just ripping the wound wide open and definitely letting him think you were a lunatic or airing on the side of caution.

“It was a con, I bet.” He mumbled while he waited for you to weigh out his offer.

“It was.” You chuckled. “I got a photo-op and an autograph, nothing spectacular on my part, but man you were the highlight of my day.”

You shook your head back and forth and leaned back against your seat as you took another sip.

“Well, so far you’ve been the highlight of mine. Today sucked.”

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly as you gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m glad I could make it interesting.”

“I’m glad I could show you God’s sense of humor, how was that again?”

You sighed and smiled up to him.

“I am… a fucking mess right now.” You said plainly. Taking another drink before you started, letting the alcohol drop your guard a little. “I jumped on this plane to run away from my problems. I’m terrified of flying. I’m out of my meds that I usually taken when I have to fly. I left half of my shit in the hurry to pack, so I have no ear buds which is why we’re having this conversation now. I am wearing scrub pants because to be honest that’s all I ever wear, even when I’m not working- sue me. They’re easy to clean. I haven’t brushed my hair in a day, and I’m sure I’m only wearing make up on one half of either of my eyes. So yes… to sit beside Jensen Ackles on a plane, today of ALL days. Is God’s sense of humor.”

You threw back the last of your drink before setting the glass bottoms up on his tray table.

“Although, between you and the frat boys who would have hated me in coach, this is definitely the better option.”

“Yeah, how did you end up here anyways? I always book both seats and cancel one at the very last minute so I don’t have to sit with anyone. I was sure I had the wrong seat at first, but I double checked and here I was. Well technically, I was by the window. But I’m not picky.” He smiled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You said feeling bad now that you’ve invaded his space.

“No- no don’t. I’m glad you’re here. These 4 hours are going to fly by.”

“Haha, cheesy plane jokes.” You rolled your eyes as you tried to hide the stupid grin plastered on your face. “They double booked my seat, and the guy who’s in it is one of about six frat guys all sitting together. The flight attendant took pity on me and offered me the last minute cancellation.”

“Lucky you.” Jensen winked.

“Yes. Any other day, lucky me.”

Jensen called for 2 more drinks as he drank the last of his as well.

“So what are you running from?”

“Uhhhh… I just left my fiancé about oh… 7 hours ago. On the day of his sister’s wedding.”

“Wow.” Jensen nodded.

“Yeah. Uh. Kinda hard to stick it out when you find him fucking the maid of honor in the bathroom, but… It was a long time coming anyways. I think I tried to ignore all the flags, and God’s sense of humor gave me one I couldn’t ignore.”

“So you think he had been unfaithful before too?”

“Probably, but it wasn’t just that. It was the controlling everything in my life that started to suffocate me. I mean. When we first started dating it was so nice to have someone order for me and surprise me at dinner or push me to try something new. It was nice to have someone else drive everywhere. It was romantic to let him make plans for us.”

“But…” Jensen pushed, glad he was finally getting you to open up a little.

“When we got engaged, it was like a whole new level. As soon as I said yes he started pushing. First it was how we were going to tell everyone and who I was going to call first. I wanted to call my mom, but instead we made a surprise appearance at his parent’s dinner party so they could be the first ones to know. They put it on Facebook before I ever even got to call my mom.”

“Ouch. That one was a tough one I’m sure.”

“Not really. My mom was very understanding, which made me feel worse.” You shrugged as your second round of drinks arrived and you reached for yours with a small ‘thanks’.

“How long were you together?”

“Together almost 4 years, engaged about a year and half of that. We were trying to plan the wedding, but he shot down everything I’ve asked or picked out so it wasn’t getting us very far, although I guess I should be thankful for that now.”

“Yeah, but. It’s okay if you’re not.”

You looked up to him, kind of surprised that he wasn’t chanting some new single life mantra. Jensen had always come off as happy go lucky, and upbeat. You were betting on him to be the kind that cheered you on with a ‘fuck him’ and a ‘you deserve so much more’ blah blah blahh…

“It’s okay if you miss him.” Jensen said softly. “It’s okay if you second guess this. If you get scared and wonder if you made the right choice by leaving and not trying to work it out.”

You continued to stare at him, slightly dumfounded.

“It’s okay to feel like you’re going to mourn that part of your life. I mean… you’re what. 25? 4 years is a long time in your 20s. It’s a lot of changes and growth in that period of time, and it’s okay if you are sad about losing someone who was there for so much of it.”

“Why do you make it sound so normal?” You whispered.

“Because it is normal, (Y/N).” He assured you. “It’s normal to miss someone even if they were shitty. It’s normal to grieve the things you lost, even if they were things that hadn’t happened yet. You can still be happy to get away from such a terrible person, but miss everything you had.”

You looked away from him and out the window, trying to force the tears at the brim of your eyes to go back in. You did NOT want to cry in front of this man.

“Also- fuck him. You will be so better off without him.” Jensen then said with a cheery smile which made you turn back to him and giggle slightly.

“Yeah. I think you’re right about that.”

“So was the rock big?” He asked as he bounced his eyebrows.

“Yes. It’s huge actually.” You said as you fished it out of your pocket and held it up to him. He let out a low whistle.

“Well I just so happen to know that by law he cannot ask for this back, it was a gift. Any lawyer will side with you, and you should cash that baby in for a vacation you actually want to go on.”

“That, actually sounds amazing.” You smiled as you took another small sip.

“Where would you go?”

“Probably somewhere in the mountains. Don’t get me wrong, the beach is fun. The ocean and the sand, I love it. But it’s the only place we’ve vacationed in years, he had no interest in the mountains. I wanna wake up, look outside and see snowcaps and ridges for miles. Cold air and warm blankets. Fire place at night, stars brighter than I ever get to see back home.”

“Well then it sounds like you’ve got a vacation to book. I actually have a trip booked to Colorado in the next few months… maybe, uh. We can bump into each other and I’ll buy you another drink.”

“Oh that is sweet of you, but you are totally not obligated to take pity on the sloppy woman who stole your seat on the plane.” You assured him, looking down at your feet as you spoke.

“Did this asshole also tell you that you had to be put together to be beautiful? Because if he did he’s an even bigger shit bag. If I was taking pity on you, I’d offer you the extra pair of ear buds out of my bag and  order another drink for myself.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Ackles. Why would you wanna do something like that? I could be crazy… I mean. More crazy then I’ve already displayed myself to be.”

“Because.” He chuckled. “You’re real. You’re not trying to impress me or show off. You’re not terrified to hold conversation, and I’m pretty sure God shared his sense of humor with you- that is sexy as hell. On your worst day you’ve turned mine around. So, I’d love to see what you got for me on a good day.”

You sat back and blushed, chewing on your lip slightly, trying to figure out if you had passed out in the airport and are currently having some vivid dream. Before you could reply, Jensen reached over and pinched you.

“Ow, what was that for?!”

“You’re not dreaming, (Y/N). This is not in your head. This is God’s sense of humor playing out to your favor… at least I hope you see it that way.”

“Well I didn’t spend 300 bucks for a photo op not to be a little shell shocked when Jensen Ackles asks me for a drink in the mountains…” You countered with a coy grin.

“Good. Consider it a date. We’re going the last weekend of September.”

“Should I just search the whole state for you?”

“No.” He laughed. “We’re gonna be in Breckenridge.”

“Okay… Breckenridge. Last weekend of September.” You nodded. He smiled back. “So why did you have a bad day today?”

“No way. I’m not complaining about my day after hearing about yours.” He shook his head.

“C’mon… you let me vent. Bought me liquor. Let me steal your seat- which had I known, I would have definitely taken the aisle because I’m claustrophobic as hell.”

“You think you’d be more comfortable if we swapped?”

“Actually… I’m not feeling so claustrophobic at the moment. Just. Warm and fuzzy.” You winked. He smiled back and bit down on his bottom lip. You swore you could have died in that exact moment and been happy on your way to the pearly gates. “Tell me about your day, Ackles.”

“Well.” He sighed. “I had to fly up for a funeral… old friend from school.”

“Jensen I’m so sorry.” You said reaching out and placing your hand on his instinctively. Many years in the hospital had taught you that death and dying sometimes just required a supportive touch, and you were quite accustomed to hugging and hand holding for family members as they grieved.

“It’s okay, he had been sick a long time. He’s not suffering, he’s at peace. He was loved, and that’s all any of us really want to have at the end of the day, right?”

“Yeah. It is. He must have been a great person to be important to you. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who makes friends with assholes.”

“No, just crazy girls on a planes.” He teased. You let go of his hand to slightly shove him, but he quickly reached for it again. Your whole body felt a warm flush. “He was a great guy, we played ball together growing up. I feel bad, we lost touch for quite a while… just. Life got busy ya know?”

“That’s not your fault. That’s part of growing up.”

“I kept saying I was gonna fly in and visit with him, but… I waited to long. So today was the closest I got to being able to do that. I’m thankful for phones and stuff though, at least we got time to catch up from a distance.”

“I’m sure that meant a lot to him too, he probably knew your life was chaos right now with filming the show and everything. To know that you still thought of him, and made the time to talk to him. Even if it wasn’t in person. I’m sure that left an impact on him and his family.”

“Thanks, I hope so.” He sighed and then turned, obviously ready to change topics. “So, tell me something you’ve never said out loud.”

You pursed your lips as your eyes narrowed on him slightly, trying to decide if you should really let yourself get this vulnerable with Jensen Ackles of all people.

“I would probably let Sam Elliot tap this ass even when he’s 95 and can’t get it up.”

At that Jensen burst out in laughter, and you swore that you could never get tired of hearing that sound. He caught his breath, and turned to you.

“You are not the typical woman, are you?”

“Not so much.” You shrugged. “Or you’ve gotten me slightly drunk and I’ve made a fool of myself so far, not much worse I can do.”

“I’d cop a feel on Betty White purely to say I got to touch em.” Jensen countered. You gave him a look of mock surprise.

“Sir, how distasteful and absolutely attractive of you… I second that.” You said tapping your glass against his as you both took another small drink. “Okay. Honest answer. I know people say all the time that they would do everything the same, that things happen for a reason or whatever. But… there are things I would change. If I could go back, I’d never waste all the time I could have used for better things. I would have travelled more. I would have worked harder in school to avoid loans.”

“Call me crazy, but I’m glad you can’t because then I would have had an extremely sad plane ride home.”

“You never know… you may have met someone else. Someone pretty and fun to distract you.”

“I did meet someone pretty and fun, even if she is a little sad herself.”

You locked your eyes on his and you both sat there for a few seconds longer than necessary. Like you were really seeing each other for the first time.

“What about you, Ackles. Tell me something no one knows about the man who plays the great Dean Winchester.”

“Okay…” He took in a deep breath. “Dean and I have a few things in common. One of those being that all that cocky flirting is more of a front for a guy who struggles to accept that he deserves good things, wonders if he’s doing enough with his life.”

You tipped your head to the side slightly. Shocked to hear such an honest and vulnerable confession from him. You expected it to be a dirty secret from his time in Hollywood or something.

“What?” He asked, suddenly a little nervous as he tapped his foot and readjusted himself.

“You.”

“Me?”

“You honestly don’t understand how much you mean to people do you?” You said with a soft smile. “At that Con, there were so many people who were meeting you for the first time. All I could hear all day long was how nice you were to them, how you treated them like a real person, how you made them feel like you WANTED to be there with them. For some of them it was the highlight of their entire year… You made a difference to them. Not Dean- you. And those are just the strangers you met, listening to Jared or Misha or anyone else talk about how you treat people on set. How you show the upmost respect for any woman in a compromising scene. The way you protect Jared, take care of him. He’s honest enough with the fans that we all know he struggles. We all know that you love him, and that you obviously take care of the people you love. YOU Jensen, deserve good because you give good.”

“You hardly know me.” He shrugged.

“I know enough.” You countered. “You have done nothing but treat me much better than I deserve today. You will be the only reason I’ve smiled in the last 24 hours.”

“Thank you. For all of that…” He paused. “Man, this ex of yours must be a real dumbass to push around someone like you. Can I be honest with you for a moment, and you not get offended?”

“Sure.”

“From what little interaction we’ve had, I am honestly shocked you put up with someone pushing you around for so long. Let someone else make your decisions for you. You just don’t seem like the kind of woman who let’s anyone tell her what she can or can’t do. How the hell did he get you? And how did he manage to keep you for so damn long?”

You looked down to your lap again, chewing on your lip.

“Hey, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have.” He said noting the way you shut down almost immediately.

“We’re being honest right?” You said looking up to him. “No judgements?”

“No judgement… just a guy and a girl on a plane having a conversation. Call it Vegas, what’s said here, stays here.”

“I’m terrified of being alone.” You admitted quietly, a tear threatening to make its way down your face. You coughed to push the strain out of your voice before you continued. “He was so invested in me. He came into my life at a time when I didn’t have a lot of people, and he made himself present in every aspect I needed someone to be. I needed someone to be there when I was going through school and having a hard time, or help with rent when school required more time and my job fired me. I needed someone to force me out of the house, to make me call and speak to my friends and family when I hid myself in this box because I was too far in my own head to get out. It sounds so pathetic, and I hate it.” Your voice cracked for a minute and Jensen reached out and laced his fingers in yours again. “But I have no idea how to be alone, I forced myself to get on this plane because I knew I’d talk myself out of leaving him purely because I’m scared. I’m scared to go home alone.”

You avoided looking up, terrified to see the look on his face. He probably got way more than he bargained for there and surely he’ll be rescheduling his vacation now so that he doesn’t have to deal with you after today. You can’t blame him. He probably thinks you’re going to attach yourself to him now, what a nightmare that would be… the awkward silence was suffocating all of a sudden.

“You are probably the bravest person I’ve met.” He said after a few seconds longer. You looked up to him like he was the crazy one. He reached up and wiped the stray tear that fell down your face. “Oh, I’m serious. I mean, the fact that you’re on this plane. Means that you just looked your fear in the face and told it to fuck off. It means you realized you deserved more, and you went for it. That takes guts, sweetheart. If no one else on the planet will ever know that, and tell you how proud they are- then I will. Because I’m damn proud of you.”

“Well at least someone is.” You sighed as you leaned against his shoulder, surprising even yourself at the move. You were even more surprised when he let go of you and reached down, pushing up the arm rest that separated the two of you, then he swung his arm over your shoulders and let his thumb trace against your arm.

It was the single most comforting thing you’d felt in months.

“You know, you’re not sad or pathetic. He probably did love you, at some point. How could he not?” You looked up to him and rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your face without your permission. “I’m serious, (Y/N). It’s not sad and I doubt you were getting played from the start. He probably fell in love with you, and who you were as a person. But I also think he recognized that fear in you, and eventually started to use it to his advantage… and that’s not love. He probably ended up cheating because even though he no longer loved you, he knew he could always control you and that part of him wasn’t going to let you leave.”

“Jensen Ackles… actor, director, singer, and now certified therapist for crazy women on planes.” You joked with a smirk. He replied with a classic Dean Winchester smile and you lost the ability to breathe for a moment.

“I just can’t stand the thought of you getting off of this plane feeling defeated, because you should feel so proud of yourself. You shouldn’t go home dwelling on how you wasted all those years. I think he loved you for some of those years, and he obviously helped you through some hard times. It wasn’t a waste, but it just wasn’t what you needed any longer. You need to know you can stand on your own two feet and the world won’t end, because I promise sweetheart it won’t.”

Just as you went to reply the plane began to move unnaturally and you placed a death grip on Jensen’s knee, your other hand reaching up for his as he held you a little tighter.

“We’re okay. It’s just turbulence.” He said softly as your breathing increased and you closed your eyes once again.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” The captain came over the speaker “We’re hitting a bit of rough patch, we’re going to be out of it shortly as we descend a few hundred feet to get below the storm, please remain seated and fasten your seat belts.”

You and Jensen separated slightly as you both refastened your seatbelts and the attendant came by to gather your empty drinks.

“You okay?” He asked as you both settled again and he placed his hand on your knee this time. He flipped over his palm to face up and you took the hint and wrapped both of your hands around his.

“Yeah.” You sighed. “No more jokes about the world ending while we’re this high up off the ground.”

Jensen chuckled and nodded.

“That’s fair. You don’t fly much do you?”

“No… the flight to the wedding was actually my first one in years. I had one back in highschool, but it was a nightmare.”

“What happened?”

“Turbulence.” You said with eyebrows raised as you looked at him accusingly. He smiled. “It was horrible, it went on for over an hour, they dropped the oxygen masks at one point and everything. I was sure that was it. I never got back on one after that, but my ex insisted that we fly instead of driving because he didn’t want to ‘look tired’ in the wedding photos.”

“You’re facing all kinds of fears today, aren’t you?”

“You must feel much better about yourself after all this. Knowing that you have so much going for you. That you don’t let things like this scare you.”

“There are plenty of things that scare me.”

“Name one.”

“Not being able to be myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… there are so many people who have an image in their head of who I am. What I’m like… and I don’t want to disappoint them, be less than they see. Let them down. Fans. Friends, family. I’m scared I won’t measure up if people really knew me.”

“So you’re facing a fear today too then, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah. I guess I am… are you disappointed?”

“The exact opposite, actually. Even if you didn’t tell me I was pretty and ask me for a drink… you were kind. You treated me like a friend, you’re funny, and damn you look better in person than on TV and I didn’t think that was possible.”

He chuckled to himself and blushed.

“Sorry… alcohol kills my head to mouth filter.”

“I like it that way. Unfiltered. Real… that’s the way you should always be around the people you love. If they can’t love you for who you are without the filters then fuck ‘em.”

“Take your own advice there, Jens.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Easier to say it than to do it.”

“You’re doing pretty well so far.”

“You make it easy, ya know? I don’t feel like I have to fake it around you. I don’t have to be the person you thought I was before we got on this plane.”

“I’m a people person.” You shrugged. “Comes with the job.”

“What do you do? The scrubs… I’m guessing medical field?”

“I’m a nurse.” You smiled.

“In the words of Dean Winchester… Respectable.” He nodded, you laughed at the reference to the show.

“Haha, I always did love that they married you off to a nurse.”

“You work in a hospital?”

“Yep. Cardiac, I can mend a broken heart.” You joked.

“Good to know.” Jensen nodded. The plane shook again. “I’m guessing all this stress isn’t doing that heart of yours any good, huh?”

“Probably no worse than the amount of caffeine I’ve had in the last 24 hours.”

“I always heard nurses make the worst patients.”

“Facts, Ackles. That’s shamelessly true. It’s because we see everything that can go wrong, we don’t want to know what’s gonna kill us.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah well.” You shrugged. “Sometimes I think we get calloused to minor things, unless someone is gushing blood or stops breathing then it can wait. Including ourselves.”

“I’m storing that knowledge for the future when I have to drag you kicking and screaming to a doctor’s office.”

“Future knowledge, huh?” You asked with a smile you couldn’t hide.

“You never know. The next few months will be big for you, lots of change. I don’t wanna disrupt your healing process here, but uh. I’m definitely looking forward to Colorado now.”

“Yeah, I’ll be booking that as soon as I get home.” You grinned. “I wouldn’t mind having a friend to check in with every once in a while, if he’s not too busy.”

“I think he could make time for that.”

You reached down into your bag, pulling a piece of paper out and using the pen from the back of the seat in front of you to jot down your number, you slid it over to him and he bit down on his lip as he slid it into his pocket.

“One more hour, Ackles. What do you wanna know?” You said as you glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“I wanna know whether or not your ex is going to come home and screw with you, did you guys share an apartment or anything?”

“Rent house. In his name, nothing is in my name actually. Control freak remember?”

“You have somewhere to go?”

“I’ll probably crash with my sister until I get an apartment. Gonna have to find one that takes dogs, because I’m not going without Sketti.”

“Sketti?” Jensen asked skeptically.

“Yes. Sketti. My niece couldn’t say spaghetti and when he was just a baby she ran around yelling sketti and he just seemed to think she was talking to him, so that’s what I named him.”

“What is he?” He smiled.

“Golden Retriever. Big ole derp, but he’s my best friend.”

“Sounds like the start to a great support system. I’m glad you got that part figured out. You got your own car?”

“Yes. That was one thing I didn’t cave on, I wanted to buy something for myself after graduation. It’s not much but it’s mine.”

“That’s all that matters, sweetheart. Just want to make sure there’s nothing he can hold over you.”

“Other than some drunken escapades in Cabo, not really.” You muttered shyly.

“That’s going to have to be our story for next time.” Jensen said with a coy grin.

The two of you continued to talk for the next several minutes, until it came time to land and you closed your eyes and let Jensen distract you with a funny story about Jared from set. Once the wheels hit ground and you finally rolled to a stop, you found yourself almost sad the plane had landed.

“Shall we?” He asked as he stood and reached out his hand to help you out of your seat, following you down the isle and through the ramp to the crowded airport in Dallas.

“Well, you got a ride picking you up?” He asked as the two of you walked slowly.

“I wish. 2 hour layover, and then one more short flight home.” You smiled.

“I guess this is where I leave you then.” He said as he stood in front of you. He pulled his backpack around and began digging through a pocket. First, he pulled something small out and held it in his hand as he zipped open the larger compartment. You were confused as he pulled out an old Cowboys hoodie and looked up to you with a smile.

“For your next flight.” He said as he held out some earbuds. You smiled widely as you accepted them with a chuckle. Then he pushed the hoodie towards you.

“Jensen, I can’t. This looks important to you.” You said as you ran your hand across it, it was clearly well worn and soft. A few frayed edges telling you he’s had it for quite some time.

“It is.” He nodded. “Got me through some hard days. You’ll need more than me for a while.”

“Jensen.” You said softly as you blushed.

“I’ll get it back in a few months.” He winked. You took it from him and wrapped your arms around it.

“Thank you, for this, for the plane… everything. I don’t feel so afraid to go home now.”

“Thanks for letting me just be myself for a while.”

“Anytime, Ackles.” You grinned. “Hey. Don’t go meeting any crazy girls on a plane between now and September.”

“Met my crazy girl quota for the year already.” He teased as he leaned forward and kissed your cheek. You lost your breath for a moment as he pulled back. He walked away but threw a glance over his shoulder at you before disappearing into the crowd.

“Dammit, Ackles.” You sighed as you walked in the opposite direction, a permanent smile on your face.

[trancetales]

OC Questionnaire

Hellooo! I've been tagged here by the lovely @thatndginger with this tag game of questions for my characters. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to do it with one character or not, but I did. I got into it and carried away so I answered all three questions three times with the three main characters of my Calleigh Hub storyline: Kith, Jacinda, and Lin.

I've had to do this like 3 times because of technical issues, hopefully I'm not missing something! I really enjoyed this so I hope I can get one of these again!

Its kinda long so I'll do the tags and stuff now: @chainsaw-raven, @zestymimblo, @awordchemist and @fleurtygurl, if you fancy it, I'll put forward the questions:

Who is someone who has influenced your life?

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?

What one thing would you have, if you could?

Da Rules: Answer the questions as your OCs, then add questions of your own for the next person.

What kind of impression do you want people to have of you?

Kith -  I want people to think of me as someone they can lean on, and to know that I can lean on them. We’ve all been through our own personal hells, and I think that only by clinging to one another can we keep going through the storms we all face. I want my friends to know that, so we can support eachother no matter what.

Jacinda -  I don’t give a fuck. I’ve given up on impressions. There’s not a person in the city who doesn’t know my face and name as the most wanted criminal in the city. I guess what I’d really want is for people to have no impression of me. Like hell that could ever happen. And Kith seems to have thoughts on that.

Lin -  I wanna to be the light and warmth in the room! I want to make people smile, and to be happy when I’m around. Things are hard for everyone, and if my stupid crap can make someone else smile, even for a moment, then I’ve made someone’s life that tiny bit easier.

What annoys you the most?

Kith -  here are so many things I could say, although most things are worse than annoying. I guess maybe how adamant Jacinda is that she’s fine on her own, when she clearly isn’t. And she knows she isn’t, because she keeps hanging out with me of her own accord. Why won’t she just admit it?

Jacinda -  Kith does. That woman pisses me off. I try my damn best to keep myself jaded, so I can push on without caring about anything. She just doesn’t get it. Why does she even want to be my friend? And why the hell does she think I need one?

Lin -  When people ignore my pratting around, haha. I try to be a nuisance for a reason, but sometimes I think people think I’m just not taking things seriously, and thats fine. But when I’m trying to get a reaction with a stupid pun and they just don’t, isn’t that just the most annoying thing ever?

If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?

Kith -  want to be free again. I want to get away from Calleigh entirely, ideally back to my homeworld where neither the Amari Syndicate nor Trace Tech can reach me anymore. I want to get myself and my friends away from all this, so we can all be free together.

Jacinda -  Easy. That incident. Lost control for what felt like less than a minute, and my entire life was destroyed for it. You ever get taken for an execution, and get “rescued” and forced to work for a criminal syndicate? Generally something you’d want to avoid. Although, maybe I’d just change meeting Kith instead.

Lin -  Um. Well… My mother… … Oh, I know! I’d make it so Naveed couldn’t charge me for milkshakes anymore! Or maybe that Kith and Jaz would get it over with and kiss already. Kith and make up. Hah.

[demobats]

“You ever thought you’d die like this?” 

Steve takes a long time to answer. Long enough that Billy wonders if maybe he fell asleep, even though it’s supposed to be his turn keeping watch. But he does reply, a good thirty seconds later, a drawn out sentence, annoyed but mostly unsure, “We’re not going to die.”

Billy snorts. “Hate to break it to you, pal, but they’re going to kill us as soon as they find us.” 

They , being a bunch of Russians or whatever the hell. Burly men with guns, screaming nonsense two inches from their face, making sure they know hell before they put a bullet through each of their brains. That’s what Billy gets for following Steve around like some lovesick kid, though. He’s really gotta stop letting his stupid crushes dictate the course of his life. 

“We’re going to be fine,” Steve says, in that bitchy tone of his. “They’re going to notice we’re gone and they’ll send someone to find us. We just have to hold on until they get here.” 

“Mmm. You tell anyone about the Russian elevator before we got in?” 

“I—uh, no? But—” 

Billy snorts. Again. “There you go.” 

What really gets him is the kid. Sinclair’s sister. She’s way too young for the shit that’ll go down once the doors snap open and the Russians find them squatting here. Even Henderson—Billy was way younger than him the very first time his dad really smacked him around, but still—he doesn’t like the idea of him bloody and bruised. 

Neither Robin or Steve for that matter. 

Steve huffs, but he shuffles closer to him. They’re sitting side by side, almost shoulder to shoulder now, on top of the damn elevator. The others are down in the actual box. 

“You don’t know that they won’t find us,” Steve says. “Dustin and I, we have friends like, in high places.” 

“Yeah? Like who?” 

“Like the Chief of Police. And his daughter.” 

Billy narrows his eyes, turns to look at him. The sailor uniform keeps distracting him, his brain unable to decide if it’s hot as fuck or plain stupid, but he makes an effort to push the thought aside for now. “His daughter?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s good at finding people. She’ll find us.” 

Billy knows the Chief. Grumpy old dude that keeps giving him speeding tickets. And he knows his daughter too, Max’s friend, this kid with a perpetual wide eyed look. No way that kid can do anything about their situation, and no way a small town cop can do anything either. They’re dead. They’re dead. They’re as good as dead. In fact, Billy will count himself lucky if they kill them fast and painless. He of all people knows there are fates fucking worse than death. 

Still, Steve looks so certain at that moment. Or—maybe certain is not the right word. He looks hopeful. Expectant. Desperate to believe. Billy can’t bring himself to pop his bubble. 

He rolls his eyes instead, looks away. “Someone has to notice we’re missing first.” 

And Steve sags beside him, sighing. Their shoulders brush. “No, yeah,” he says. “Erica has that birthday party thing tomorrow, right? I guess she’s our safest bet because Robin and Dustin both told their parents they were going to be with friends, and mine aren’t even in Hawkins.” 

Then:  “You think yours will notice any sooner?”

And, Billy didn’t tell anyone he was going out. He just took his keys and drove away and ended up in the mall and ran into Steve doing god knows what with a bunch of children and a Russian code. He didn’t exactly ask for permission before going out. His dad will notice he’s gone. There’s no doubt about it in his mind. It’s really not what Steve’s looking for, though. 

Neil will not throw a search party for him. Won’t call hospitals and morgues and other parents, won’t search heaven and hell for him. All he’s going to do is wait. Wait and wait and wait for the moment Billy steps foot back in the house, the moment he can yank his hair, slap him, ask where in the hell he was that he left without asking. 

It’s kind of thrilling, in a way. The thought that he’s going to die down here and Neil will have to live knowing he didn’t do the bare fucking minimimun of reporting his kid as missing. 

“Uh, no,” he mutters. “I guess my old man’s going to assume I went out somewhere.” 

But he took a little too long to respond, his tone too—hesitant, or something. Something . His heart wrenching in ways he’d rather not think all too closely about.

Steve looks at him, doe eyes wide with something that almost feels like sympathy, understanding. 

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