#not that i completely hate the light fury

[jpegdon]

im about to be such a stupid hater but as an aromantic person i hate the httyd 3 ending.

[stormsthatrage]

Imagine: Samantha Manson rents an apartment with other students in university because she wants to pay her own way through college. One night, the other students throw a party. Sam takes refuge in the campus library during this, because she does not want to be around that. But eventually the library closes for the night, and Sam has to go back.

Sam walks in on the partygoers, still there, hanging out around a "summoning ritual" for fun. They're cleaning up -- the ritual didn't work, obviously.

Sam wordlessly halts the clean-up efforts in their tracks by taking one look at the summoning circle, seizing a paintbrush, bodying people out of the way, and making a dozen minor adjustments to the summoning circle.

It's Sam. No one stops her, and no one is brave enough to ask any questions.

Sam finishes, then walks off without saying anything.

The partygoers look at each other, and then immediately try the summoning ritual again.

(Look, Sam has a reputation as a goth and, if you believe in that stuff, as a witch. Not to say that any of them actually believe in that stuff, but sometimes it's fun to pretend like you do, and, well. They already decided to give it their best shot tonight, and they know that a Sam-approved summoning circle is the best shot they'll get.)

They read out the spell. The candles flare, the flame turning a dark, poisonous green, then blow out. A surge of black light shoots up from the summoning circle, and a presence thickens the air around them.

Before them appears a being that they know, in their soul, is not of this world.

A creature of the realm of the dead looms before them, crown ablaze with fury. "Who dares--"

Sam, nonchalant, wanders back into the room. Wanders over to the summoning circle. Casually erases, with the tip of her shoe, what they know from their brief study of their occult book to be the containment layer of the summoning circle.

Casually says, "Hey, Danny, what pizza toppings do you want?"

The presence fades, but does not vanish completely. "Oh, come on Sam," says the being that an animal part of them recognizes as of the realm of the dead. "What the hell, you know I hate that."

Sam wanders back out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Well, I hate having my thermos broken!"

The being floats out of the summoning circle, and takes on the shape of a boy, touching down to the ground. The presence fades even further, until they wouldn't be able to tell the creature wasn't a boy if they hadn't already seen.

"Okay, first of all, that was at least 50% Tucker's fault--" it says, trailing after Sam. The conversation becomes unintelligible as they go to Sam's room and shut the door.

The partygoers are left in silence, with paint that has been turned to ash, brand-new candles that have been burned to stubs, and a terrifying new knowledge of the existence of the beyond.

And, for the unluckiest of them, terrifying new knowledge that the person they share a roof with has regular, real, dealings with the dead.

(Twenty minutes later, the pizza arrives. With a pineapple topping, of course.)

[girlgenius1111]

might just love you 'til the end

post... that match. a bit of angst, mostly fluff. alexia is not pleased after her performance against chelsea. you aren't quite sure what she needs from you. you decide to give her space, but that isn't really what she needs. alexia tells you... eventually.

-------

It was a long day, a tiring and difficult match, and Alexia probably would have resorted to one of her coping mechanisms, if she hadn’t missed that last shot on goal. It seemed to take something out of her, and even from your place sitting on the bench, you could see how angry she was acting. Underneath that, though, you could tell that she was really just disappointed in herself. 

Watching her blink back tears as she made her way around the pitch was almost too much for you. You wanted nothing more than to grab her hand, pull her into the tunnel, and hug her until she wasn’t sad anymore. You knew better than to try to comfort her now, though. Alexia hated nothing more than seeming weak, especially in front of the team. Anything she needed or wanted from you would have to wait until you both got home. And even then, you weren’t sure what to expect. Sometimes she’d just shut down after a bad game, go to sleep, and wake up with a new passion the next morning. Sometimes she’d shut down, but her fury at herself would linger for days. Very rarely did she talk about it. Only when she really reached her breaking point, which was admittedly a lot harder to reach than other people’s were, would she let you make her feel better.  

It wasn’t necessarily a healthy array of options that she normally went with, but you couldn’t argue that it didn’t work. It worked for Alexia, and that was what was important. Even if giving her space until she asked for something else hurt, you knew it was what she needed. 

She acted pretty much how you expected her to as you both made your way into the locker room and headed for the showers. The blonde gave you nothing more than a high five and a weak smile, before she launched herself into her post match routine. You did the same, icing various parts of your body that hurt after a rather physical game. You kept your eyes on your girlfriend, though, watching the hollow way she brushed through her hair and the mechanical way she laced up her shoes. You were done before her, sitting in your locker looking at your phone, trying to figure out how bad the social media situation was going to be for her, when her white nikes appeared in front of you. You looked up at her with a smile, though it fell slightly when you took in the completely emotionless look on her face. She’d shut down, then, like you’d expected her to. You knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it easier that she wouldn’t let you help.

“¿Lista?” She asked roughly, not meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” You replied, getting to your feet, grabbing your bag, and giving Mapi a reassuring look from where she sat waiting for Ingrid to be ready to go. You knew your girlfriend’s best friend worried about her, and that she had tried to talk to her after the match, but it hadn’t really gone anywhere. You were surprised when, as soon as you were out of the locker room and had walked a ways down the hall, Alexia dropped her bag to the ground and pulled you into a tight hug. 

You returned the hug, sighing into her shoulder, feeling her bury her face in your slightly damp hair. The hug was for you, you could tell. To make you feel better, even when Alexia wouldn’t allow you to do anything to make her feel better. She held herself a bit tensely, and when she pulled away, her eyes searched yours, her worry clear on her face. 

“Te amo,” she whispered, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “I am proud of you, always.” 

“I love you, Ale,” you replied, a thousand more words on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to tell her you were proud of her, too, that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t need to deal with today all by herself, but you knew she wouldn’t accept it right now. Instead, you grabbed her hand in yours and squeezed tightly. 

The captain kept her hand in yours as you both walked to her car, and though you expected her to pull away from the contact, you were glad that she was letting herself have something to make herself feel better. The car ride home was silent, and you predicted the rest of the night to be the same.

------

You knew to let Alexia deal with it how she dealt with it, but you did put your foot down on a couple things. When she headed right for the couch, going to put the match replay on the TV and take notes, you shook your head, taking the remote out of her hand. 

“Not tonight. It won’t make you feel better.” 

“I have to watch,” she argued, but you cut her off. 

“You can watch tomorrow. Tonight we are going to watch a movie, order dinner, and go to bed early.” 

“Amor,” Alexia sighed, her brow furrowed, no doubt thinking about how she could convince you to let her do this. 

You switched tactics, knowing there was one sure way to get your girlfriend to agree with you. “Please? For me? I don’t want to watch that again right now.” 

The blonde softened, nodding her head at you. Satisfied, you flopped down on the couch next to her, grabbing her arm and draping it over your shoulder. 

Alexia smiled despite herself, leaving a soft kiss on the top of your head. She was still practically silent as you picked out a movie, but she pulled you close to her, slipping her hand up the front of your shirt and  running her thumb back and forth across your skin. 

Even if she was only letting this happen because she thought she was comforting you, it was still better than nothing. Better than the rare occasions that she’d sleep on the couch, almost as a punishment for herself when she didn’t perform the way she thought she should’ve. The blonde had gotten better since getting together with you, mostly because you pointed out the inconsistencies in how she treated you after a rough game, and how she treated herself. Some rough days sent her spiraling back to her bad habits, though, and you were glad you could pull her away from those, at least for today.

-------

“Cariño,” Alexia whispered, jostling you slightly. “Let’s go to bed, vale?” 

“Hmm?” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes. “‘M not asleep.” 

“Oh, sure. You are just watching the movie with your eyes closed?” 

“Sí,” you sighed, turning against her slightly until your head was laid on her chest. It vibrated under you as she laughed, and the sound woke you a bit more, glad to hear something even remotely joyful come out of your girlfriend’s mouth. 

“Venga, amor, it is time for bed.” She insisted, gently sitting up and easing you into an upright position. You pouted at her, wishing the smile on her face would reach her eyes. When it didn’t, you rose from the couch, grabbing Alexia’s hand, and pulling her towards the bedroom. 

You both made quick work of your nighttime routines, and you were glad to slide into the bed, undeniably exhausted from the physically and emotionally draining day. Alexia slipped in next to you, though she didn’t really get comfortable; she remained halfway sat up, staring at the ceiling above her. You tucked yourself into her side, burrowing under the covers until you were surrounded by soft fabric and Alexia’s sweatshirt. She seemed wide awake, and you laced your fingers with her, rubbing your thumb comfortingly along the back. 

“Sleep, baby. You need rest. Everything will feel better in the morning.” Alexia nodded mechanically, giving you a half smile that you didn’t buy for a second, before her eyes fluttered shut. “I love you. You’re my favorite person.” You whispered. 

She opened her eyes again at your words, softening slightly. She turned on her side and pulled you into her chest, wrapping you up tightly in her arms. “Te amo, mi niña, eres perfecta.” She whispered. 

-------

You fell asleep easily. Alexia, evidently, had not. You realized this when you rolled over in the middle of the night, seeking out your girlfriend to curl up against, and only felt cold sheets next to you. 

It woke you up, and you opened your eyes, in your sleepy haze worried Alexia had gotten sick or something. You looked around the room, and towards the bathroom, but no lights were on. You sat up in the bed, forcing yourself to wake up more. Once you had thought about it for a minute, you had a sneaking suspicion about where your girlfriend had disappeared to in the middle of the night. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, checking Alexia’s location, and sure enough, her little profile picture was at a park a few blocks away. It had a football pitch, and Alexia sometimes slipped away there when she wanted to clear her head, but not deal with seeing people she knew at the Barça training ground. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, even though you had half a mind to call Ale’s mom and get Eli to deal with her, knowing she could scold her daughter much more effectively than you could. It was the middle of the night, though, and you knew that Alexia may need a softer approach. You weren’t really sure what headspace she’d be in when you found her, and it was at this thought that you began to move faster, pulling on joggers and a shirt, and rushing down the stairs. You could visualize what she’d be doing, taking shot after shot on goal, but you couldn’t figure out how she’d be acting. Upset, or sad, or angry, or still completely blank. You grabbed your car keys, not really wanting to waste a second longer than possible by walking to where Alexia was, although it wasn’t far. 

It only took a few minutes to arrive, and you pulled into the parking lot with your attention completely fixed on the figure across the park, running down the pitch with a ball at her feet. As you got closer, you took in how exhausted Alexia looked, as if she’d been at this for hours.

“Ale?” You called, finally arriving at the pitch and trying to get your girlfriend’s attention from the sidelines. She didn’t look over at you, too caught up in her own thoughts, trying to angle her shot in just right. 

You moved closer, and finally she saw you, just out of the corner of her eye. She stopped what she was doing, turning to face you. “Amor?” She questioned. “What are you doing here?” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her question. “Really? You’re asking me what I’m doing here?” Your girlfriend had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “It’s the middle of the night, Alexia. What are you doing?”

“I could not fall asleep.” Alexia told you, walking over to you, her ball abandoned behind her. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You asked, brushing a few pieces of flyaway hair off her forehead. She melted into your touch, her body slouching down towards you, giving you even more of an idea of how exhausted she was. 

“I wanted you to rest.” She said quietly, and it was a perfectly believable explanation, but for some reason you had a feeling that there was more to it than that. You fixed her with a look, raising one eyebrow. The blonde sighed again, grabbing your hand in hers. “Can we go home?” 

“Only if you promise to talk to me when we get there. Otherwise I’ll make you stand in goal while I shoot.” You teased, happy to see a small smile on your girlfriend’s completely drained face. 

“Promise.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze as you both began to walk towards the park exit. 

-------

You sent Alexia to shower upon arriving home, sitting on the couch until she was done, absolutely sure that if you got back in bed, you’d instantly fall back asleep. Alexia very timidly walked out of the bathroom 20 minutes later, all bundled up in a sweatshirt and sweatpants even though it was rather warm out. 

Alexia looked weirdly nervous as she sat down next to you, her eyes everywhere but on yours. She reached for your hand very hesitantly, relaxing slightly when you intertwined your fingers with hers easily. 

“What’s wrong, Ale?” You asked. 

“I am sorry about today. Really sorry, amor.” 

You opened your mouth, prepared to tell her that you forgave her for sneaking away in the middle of the night instead of waking you up, but you stopped when you looked at her closer, and found tears in her eyes. Something about the way she’d phrased it, too, that she was sorry about ‘today,’ didn’t sit right with you. 

“What are you sorry about?” You asked, frowning when Alexia chewed on her lower lip instead of answering. 

“I disappointed you today.” She said finally. 

“Alexia,” you rushed to contradict her, but she cut you off. 

“No, I know I did. I am sorry, I will do better, mi amor, I promise.” 

“Love, you did not disappoint me.” You insisted, cradling your girlfriend’s cheek and wiping away a stray tear. She shrugged, like she didn’t believe you. “You could never disappoint me, Alexia, especially not by missing a shot. Why do you think that?” 

Her eyes flicked up to yours, finding only sincerity there, as she took a deep breath, and spoke. “I told you I was proud of you.” Alexia mumbled, her cheeks flushing. “You did not say it back. And you normally give me a hug after matches in the locker room, but you did not, not until I hugged you.” 

You were sure you felt your heart crack in two. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” You said, reaching to pull her into a hug. She shrugged out of your grasp, though, and you were furious with yourself in that moment. 

“You do not need to be sorry, I understand.” She said, albeit rather miserably, looking so angry and upset with herself, when she really should have been directing that at you. 

“No, Alexia, look at me.” You insisted, gently tilting her head to look at you. She was barely holding back tears, her lip wavering sadly. “Oh, my love. I didn’t say it back because I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. You never listen after rough games, I was trying to let you have your feelings for the night, and then try to make you feel better tomorrow. I didn’t think you’d want comfort, Alexia, not today. I am so proud of you, Alexia. Every day, I am proud of you, especially today. You did everything you could do, I know that. It just wasn’t our day. Estoy tan orgullosa de ti.” You emphasized. 

Alexia nodded slowly, but you could tell she didn’t fully believe you. 

“Would you ever be disappointed with me for missing a shot?” You asked, slightly amused when the blonde whipped her head up to look at you, a frown set on her features. 

“No. Never.” Alexia said quickly, appalled at even the idea.

You smiled at her sadly. “Can you not imagine that I feel the same way about you, Ale? That I love you just as much as you love me? 

Your girlfriend swallowed roughly, reaching to pull you into her lap, and into a hug. You let her manhandle you the way she wanted, wrapping your arms around her and kissing the side of her head repeatedly once she grabbed on to you. 

“It is hard to believe sometimes. It is… too good to be true. That you love me like I love you. I do not always feel like I deserve it. Especially when I am grumpy all day after we lose, and I sneak out of our bed, and make you come find me in the middle of the night.” Alexia said, her voice dripping with insecurity. 

You pulled back just slightly, pressing your forehead to Alexia’s, threading your fingers through her hair. “You always deserve it. Always, Alexia. And I would get out of bed in the middle of the night to come find you every day if you needed me too. I’d get on a plane in the middle of the night and fly halfway across the world to find you, if that’s what you needed.” You whispered, leaning forward to press your lips to Alexia’s. 

She kissed you back, hard, trying to tell you how much everything you’d said meant to her. 

“I’d rather not, but I’d do it.” You mumbled against her mouth, feeling her smile against your own lips. 

“Okay.” She said finally, and it was clear to you that she believed you a bit more now, and that she’d believe you even more tomorrow. “I will keep my fleeing of the country to a minimum.” 

You laughed. “Good. Because I want to go to bed.” 

Alexia nodded enthusiastically, rising up off the couch with you held securely in her arms. “Me too.” 

She carried you towards the bedroom, already physically more relaxed than she’d been all day. 

“If you set an alarm for the morning, I will make you sleep at the park tomorrow night.” You told her, letting out a rather undignified squeak when she gently threw you down on the bed. 

She smiled at you mischievously, her bad day completely forgotten. How could she think about her performance when you were so perfect, and so pretty, and she was so tired.

“No alarm.” She promised, turning her light off and collapsing onto the bed next to you. It had been a mistake, not waking you up before. Because when you pulled her into you and began to scratch lightly at her back, she went completely limp, and she knew you were all she needed to fall asleep. Alexia didn’t need to practice her shots until her legs were numb. She just needed to lay her head on your chest and hear your heartbeat in her ear, and she’d remember that everything would be okay. 

------

hope you enjoyed :)

[natalievoncatte]

CW: discussion of death and dying.

The gun was still on her hip when Lena walked into her penthouse. She probably should have gotten rid of it, just for the sake of disposing of evidence. It was far from the only one she owned, and she wouldn’t miss it. Then again, one does not discard lightly the weapon of fratricide. She’d decide what to do with the murder weapon later; right now, there was only one thought screaming in her head.

I killed Lex. I killed my brother.

It kept repeating in her brain on an endless loop.

I killed my brother for a liar. A betrayer. He was right and I was wrong. She only-

Lena was not alone. There was a figure seated on her sofa, staring straight ahead. Lena knew those blond curls, falling in a dark river like warm honey. Supergirl.

Supergirl, not Kara. Kara was good. Kara loved her, trusted her, watched out for her, had her back. Kara kept her secrets and gave her a shoulder to cry on always had her back. Kara was good, and Kara was a lie.

Lena walked around the couch, eyes wide and lips trembling, her features pulled into a mask of morose fury. How dare she just break in here and… sit there.

“I died.”

Lena froze.

“I died,” Supergirl said, again. “The clone of me that Lex had, she was a duplicate created by Harun-El somehow. She killed me. I died.”

Supergirl’s brilliant blue eyes flashed in the twilight of Lena’s dark apartment and locked on her.

“There was nothing. No warm light of Rao welcoming me home to live in peace with my people forever. No tunnel of light. There was just nothing. I was gone and then I wasn’t. Alex said the grass brought me back.”

Lena licked her lips. She was fixed to the spot.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m Kara.”

Those two little words, those treacherous words, hit Lena like a freight train. Her knees buckled and she sagged, catching herself by an end table.

Kara met her gaze.

“There were a million reasons why I never told you. They’re all stupid and pointless. When I woke up that was the first thing I thought of. I died and I never told you.”

Lena tried to speak, but her throat had gone so dry that it was like trying to breath through a mournful of sand. She sagged further, barely able to fall into a side chair.

“At first I just didn’t know you well enough. Then I screwed everything up by being a complete ass to you, and I never even said I was sorry. But I was sorry. So I was too scared to tell you because I didn’t want you to hate me. Then by the time I wanted to tell you again, all of this had happened and I was still afraid you’d hate me.”

Kara looked down at the floor.

“But then I was dead and none of it mattered anymore. None of the things that had been important to me mattered when I was dying. You know what I was thinking as she crushed the life out of me?”

“No,” Lena choked out.

“This is it?” said Kara. “All that… and this is it? Just like that? This is all I get?”

Silence ruled the dark apartment. The back edge of Lena’s gun dug uncomfortably into her flank. Kara just sat there, looking through the floor. Perhaps literally.

“Kara,” Lena said, without quite knowing why. “I’m sure… you weren’t…”

“No, Lena, I died. It wasn’t like when Reign beat me to a pulp and threw me off a building. That was different. This was different. I can’t even say how. I just know.”

When Reign…

Lena had been there that night. Reign had beaten Supergirl into a coma, thrown her off a building and left her broken and bloodied in the street. Lena thought she’d died that night.

Wait.

That was Kara, too.

Sharp, rancid bile, harsh and acidic, burned the back of Lena’s throat. She choked it down, trembling.

Kara looked at her again.

“I have something else I have to tell you.”

Lena needed a drink. Now. She wobbled across the room to the kitchen and grabbed the nearest wine bottle, pouring herself a glass and downing half of it in one go. It was a dry red, harsh and sharp on her tongue.

“Kara,” Lena began. “Before you say anything else-“

“I’m in love with you.”

Lena wasn’t sure what she expected Kara to say, but not that. Not just… say it. She couldn’t say it. Not when Lena has been grasping that secret so hard that it always threatened to slip from her fingers, reedy to leap from her grip from being held so tight. The words simultaneously made her feel as if her heels would float from the floor and nearly drove her down to it. She leaned on the white marble countertop, trembling.

“None of the reasons I kept that secret matter anymore, either. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I’ll leave if you want me to. I just… I died,” Kara’s voice crumbled into a sob, barely intelligible, “and I didn’t tell you.”

Lena said nothing. She downed the rest of the wine.

“What do you want from me?” She finally choked out.

“I want to tell you about Krypton. I want movie nights and game nights and big belly burgers and brunches. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so bad I don’t know how I never did. If you want that.”

Again, Lena went silent.

“I want to make up for the shit I’ve put you through. I want to show you how much I care for you, as often and as thoroughly as I can. Dying without you fucking sucked. I want to live with you instead.”

Lena’s breath quickened. Kara’s boots creaked as she stood up, her cape billowing slightly behind her as she crossed the room, keeping a respectful distance.

“I’ll go, if you want. I just had to say it.”

Lena pressed her fingers against the countertop until they went white and her palms trembled. She felt the weight of the gun on her hip.

“Stay,” she whispered.

There is no prompt for this one. The idea just came to me and I had to write it out.

[badingsm]

https://www.tumblr.com/badingsm/726265525289861121/yn-enters-the-living-room-with-pickles-and-ice?source=share

As a FRIENDS lover, I beg you to make a one shot about this pleaseeee😭😭

Hi! I hope you like this, Anon. I'm sorry, it's like my first time doing this so, I hope I don't disappoint :)

Warnings: Light smut that's cringey, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy, cursing.

"Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I'm going to-" Natasha grunted lowly as she thrust into a different angle to hit your sensitive spot, making you both feel the pleasure and chase your highs closer and closer. You were bent on her bed, all at her mercy, while she fucked you from behind, basking in the sound of your moans.

Your relationship with Natasha has always been a love-hate dynamic one. You two just couldn't get along without the other one teasing or mocking the other. As a person filled with pride, you hated that. So you defend yourself by treating her the same way she does.

So, being here and being intimate with her was a huge surprise on both of your parts. One minute you guys were in one of Tony's famous post-mission parties, then the next, fighting over the game that you don't even remember, and now, you're here.

You both are here.

Doing some miracles.

"Oh—feels so good, I-" You gasped when her thrusts became harder and faster. Your knuckles had long turned white with how hard you'd balled your fist in her mattress. "Nat, I'm gonna—fuck."

"Shit, shit—hold it," Natasha groaned, her palm finding its way into your hair, fisting it into a ponytail before tugging it in a pleasurable way, making your back press against her built and sweaty front. She thrust a few more times while you whined, feeling the pain of holding on too long, being completely dumb for anything else but getting your own relief, until you heard her whisper hotly in your ear as she felt herself about to release too, "Cum for me, baby."

And that's it.

You both let go.

Your thighs shook wildly around hers while you continued to release all your juices. At the same time, her cum shot out of her, painting your walls white and planting her seeds in you.

And at that moment, when you realized exactly that, you pushed Natasha—who fell into your chest with a heavy breath—off of you.

"Fuck, Romanoff!" You bit your lip harshly while she looked at you with hooded eyes.

She smirked, "I just did. Ready for round-" 

"You.." You clenched your jaw. "You didn't pull out, damn it! You're not even wearing a condom!"

Her eyes widened at that.

Natasha's lips fell into a circular shape as she blinked slowly at you. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Are you on birth control?"

"I'm not!" You said through gritted teeth, getting up to clean yourself in her bathroom and then gathering your clothes. "But.."

"Yes?"

"But there's also a possibility that it will not happen." You tried to assure yourself more than her when you let that out, "Just because we had sex once, I'll be—yeah, I won't be. It's fine. Besides, this is just a one-time thing anyway."

"Mhm," Natasha nodded, "Sure. So... wanna stay?"

"No thanks. I should get back." You smiled tightly. "This was kind of nice though."

"What? You being fucked?"

"Brutal but yes," You replied unashamedly, "And the fact that we can be in the same room without biting each other's heads off."

"Really?" Natasha asked you with a small grin. She almost looks shy, but she's quick to mask it off with her coy self.

"You're still my enemy, though."

"And you are mine." She winks.

With that, you left quickly, wondering if whatever she said had another meaning, but you soon brushed it off your mind.

It's impossible.

-

A month had passed since that night.

You were currently in the kitchen with Wanda and Yelena.

Wanda was making her famous chicken paprikash while you nursed yourself with ice cream. It's your little reward after the stressful debriefing you had with Fury.

You were in the middle of biting a spoon when suddenly, the aroma of Wanda's freshly cooked paprikash made you nauseous. You tried to stop yourself from gagging with the use of your palm because you didn't want to be rude in any way, but it was unstoppable this time. So, you rushed to the nearest sink and dumped all the contents of your stomach in there.

Yelena was quick enough to help you. She rubbed your back comfortingly while Wanda turned off the stove and tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Are you okay?" Wanda asked, her mother instincts kicking in.

"Fine," You mumbled after finishing. You cleaned yourself before looking up to her and asking, "What's that smell?"

"What?" Yelena questioned curiously.

"That," You pointed at the smoking pot with pursed lips, "Why does it smell like that?"

"I was cooking for the boys since they requested it." Wanda looked at you weirdly. "And I was also making some extra for you. I know it's your favorite but.."

"No, no, no." You were quick enough to dismiss her frown. "I love your paprikash, trust me. Maybe.. maybe this is just one of my bad days where I get a little weird from my normal self."

Yelena raised her brows at that, but she didn't say anything else. Instead, she went back to her seat after you assured her that you were good already.

"Sure." Wanda eyed you suspiciously. "Just drink more water, yeah? Maybe you're just dehydrated."

Even if that's not what she believes because her suspicions say otherwise, she gave you a glass of water before leaving with two bowls on a tray for Tommy and Billy.

-

A few weeks later.

You grabbed an apple that you saw above the counter before going through the cupboard to find the ketchup to pair it with. You had just finished your training for the day, and you had been craving this the whole time. Now, you wouldn't waste another second without satisfying your needs.

Natasha entered the kitchen then. She had a walk with Fanny since Yelena was on a mission with Barton until the next day. She was dressed in her usual style: a black shirt, a leather jacket, jeans, and combat boots, along with her famous braids.

The moment you saw her face, you felt annoyed.

And that's normal.

So, with a huff, you left her alone and trudged your way through the living room, where you could watch your comfort show.

Things with Natasha were still the same, except for the fact that she became more flirty this time, but all in all, you still find her sarcastic self annoying.

Meanwhile, the said redhead watched you from the kitchen, eyeing your choice of food. She found it... weird to think about your choice of food but didn't comment on it.

No one dared to say anything about it anyway because they were afraid to get snapped by you, especially with how much your patience and temper had gone shorter and shorter as time went by.

-

The next day.

You woke up lightheaded until you felt something in your stomach, and before you even come into full consciousness, you're bent into your toilet bowl, dumping everything that you've got in your stomach even though you haven't eaten anything yet. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes as you prayed that your liver wouldn't be puked out too.

This keeps happening every single morning, and now it bothers you already, so with a thought, you cleaned yourself, grabbed a glass of water, and drank it quickly before finding your way to the medical bay, where Banner was busy tingling his...sciencey stuff.

"Hey, Y/n!" He smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm dying," You concluded out loud, not missing the way his face fell into shock before shaking his head. He should be really used to your dramatic antics by now. "Brucely, I'm dying!"

"Tell me your symptoms," He asked patiently.

"Well, I've been puking—a lot. Like every morning or every time I don't like something. I'm always lightheaded. Always hungry—oh, wait, that's normal me—but, yeah, pretty much that."

"I think I know what's happening." He trailed off cautiously. "Have you considered testing yourself?"

"Oh, believe me, living is really a difficult test for me, and I'm barely passing, but-"

"No, no," He shook his head with a small chuckle, "I meant pregnancy test."

"Uh, are you a weirdo or something?" You tried to joke when you felt that this was getting serious and there was a big possibility that he might be right, but you're still scared to acknowledge that.

"How's your period?"

"I'm a month late, but I'm irregular anyway, so..."

"Can I—just to make sure, if you're up for it?" He offered gently, not wanting to force you or make you uncomfortable in any way.

You thought about it for a while before deciding that you should do it. It's for the sake of your mind and sanity anyway. Either way, you'll just end up overthinking it for God knows how many nights, and you don't want that.

So, with a deep sigh, you nodded as an answer.

-

"Results are back." Bruce came back from the lab with a folder in his hand. He was reading it with his glasses while he grabbed the seat in front of you. "You ready?"

"Mhm," You released a shaky breath, "Am I dying already?"

"No," He smiled, "You're actually pregnant."

You laughed nervously at that, looking at him with unsure eyes and saying, "That's a good one, Bruce. So, what's the result?"

"Uh, you're pregnant. Really." Bruce then placed the paper in front of you for you to read the documents yourself. "Congratulations, Y/n."

"Yeah, no, I can't—it just happened one time and-" You felt pathetic when you started to address the burn in your eyes at the same time your anxiety had settled in, "I'm not.."

"It's okay, Y/n," He comforted. Bruce has always been the father figure of the team, and you thank him for that. "It's a lot to take in, but know that we're here for you."

"Thanks, Bruce." You nodded, wiping the tears that fell into your cheeks before leaving with the papers clasped in your hands. "I should probably head back."

"If you don't mind me asking," He stopped you before you could completely leave the room, "Who's the..."

You smiled tightly and said, "I'd rather not talk about that yet. Sorry."

"It's fine. Go on." He dismissed you kindly. "Take care though. Especially now."

"Yes, thanks again!"

And with that, you disappeared.

-

Months have passed.

You began showing, and now you're already in your ninth month.

The team was curious about whose child it was, but they didn't dare to voice their questions. Instead, they supported you with everything that they had.

Meanwhile, with Natasha, she agreed to take responsibility as she muttered a series of apologies to you, but you also made her promise not to tell anyone that she's the baby mama. It's not that you were embarrassed; you're just not yet ready for it.

Being talked about as pregnant with this anonymous person is already enough to make your ears and head hurt, and if the team finds out that your enemy is the other parent of your child, you're sure they won't leave you two alone. Just by thinking that, the veins in your head are already pulsing painfully.

So, no, not yet.

Anyways.

Currently, Peter insisted on having a movie marathon with the group, which is why all of them were either sitting or lying in the living room while you grabbed your snacks in the kitchen—pickles and ice cream.

After drinking a glass of water, you walked back into where the movie was playing since you had just arrived after taking a nap and a shower for a while.

As you entered, you saw the way their eyes seemed to shift their attention to you.

So, with a roll of the eyes, you scoffed, "That's right. Still no baby!"

Natasha saw your frame and the way you struggled with how heavy your bump was; she was quick enough to leave her comfortable seat and lowly say, "Uh.. detka, maybe you'd be more comfortable here?"

With the sound of her voice, you snapped your attention to her. Your relationship was still the same, but you've noticed that she chooses to bite back her remarks instead whenever you pick on her. She was patient enough. As she should be.

"You. Like you haven't done enough." You glared at her.

Natasha sighed before looking back up to you with a nervous smile, "Look, I-I know how miserable you are; I wish there was something I could do. I mean, I wish I was the one with the vagina, so I'm the one who's knocked up-" You glared at her sharper this time, "But yeah, it'll be fine soon, love, you're near the end. Yay!"

You huffed, "If you just pulled-" You cut yourself off when you felt the harsh contractions coming your way, making you whisper with gritted teeth so as to not get the unnecessary attention of the team, "God-fucking-damn you, Romanoff!"

"Mhm, yeah, all my fault, thanks." Natasha smiled hesitantly while you groaned in pain.

Meanwhile, Wanda watched from the corner, smiling to herself while she witnessed your love-hate relationship with Natasha, knowing damn well that you'd both end up together in the end anyway.

[httpsserene]

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐬 (𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠!) - 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. idiots in love. mild angst. fluff. happy ending. attempt at humor. plot with a side of porn. the timeline is mostly accurate. max verstappen is an oblivious idiot. daniel ricciardo is an obvious idiot. 5+1 things (in a way). the three musketeers: charles, pierre, and lando. light praise kink. light dom/sub undertones. mild orgasm delay/denial. 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 9.5k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: max verstappen x daniel ricciardo

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: so....how's life been treating y'all while i disappeared for two months :) ? no, um, sorry for ghosting you guys; i know, i'm surprised that i didn't forget my login info. life started being life for a good amount of time and i got really sucked into school and work. aside from the boring everyday stuff, i've got an internship this summer (yay!), i'm pretty sure i have a bit of a mutual-crush with this boy in my morning lecture, and i've started playing final fantasy sixteen.

anyways, this is my longest work ever! and i'm dedicating it to one of my sweetest betas, bianca. you requested this long before my disappearing act in december, and i told you i was nearly finished with a 6k-word fic for your request. to make up for my unexplained absence, i rewrote the entire thing into a near ten-thousand word feel-good masterpiece.

i hope this fic is of good enough quality for all of you wonderful f1-stans to forgive me because, i'm back, and hopefuily here to stay lol. enjoy reading, loves < 3.

requested & written by/for @biancathecool

join taglist | feedback & requests | table of contents↻

milton keynes, red bull racing headquarters, pre-season 2023

daniel looks happy. max doesn’t know why that surprises him—maybe he’s projecting his emotions (his therapist says he does that quite often) onto the man. the surprise makes sense though, max thinks, as he watches the australian chatter away with the engineers, the largest toothy smile spread across his face like he never left red bull behind in 2018. if it were max who had gone through the mclaren bullshit along with not having a guaranteed seat for the upcoming 2023 season, and he had to settle for a third driver position: he would scourge the world with his fury.

but: it’s not max, it’s daniel. it’s daniel, who was warmly welcomed back into navy blue (papaya did not suit him), it’s daniel, who doesn’t snap at the marketing team when they ask how he’s “coping” with not being on the grid. it’s daniel, who becomes friends with checo easily. it’s daniel, who’s scheduled to fulfill the pr activities that the two red bull drivers refuse to complete. it’s daniel, who has clocked in insane hours in the sim and factory while max has been enjoying his off-season. 

it’s daniel, who hasn’t shown any signs of disappointment about not having a seat this year.

if he won’t show or admit it, max will. having a race weekend without daniel doesn’t feel right. max knows this, even though the season hasn’t started yet: he’s going to be miserable. it’s like when daniel left him the team. of course, max had pushed daniel away after he signed with renault. what was he supposed to do? react calmly with the emotional intelligence he didn’t have? max thought the man hated him when he didn’t tell him that he was leaving before the news was released. 

regardless, instead of the australian leaving, this time around he’s coming back, which max had originally believed was the best thing to ever happen. he’s not so sure of that anymore. daniel belongs in the car chasing him with the smell of burning rubber and petrol surrounding them. max doesn’t appreciate how the smell of race tracks has already disappeared from him. he could tell it was missing when daniel made a show of giving max the biggest hug as soon as he stepped foot in the factory.

maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness.

“max, kid,” christian waves a hand in front of max’s face with an unimpressed look, “did you hear a single thing i said or were you too distracted by the sight of daniel in red bull gear again?”

the tips of max’s ears redden, and he snaps his head away from where it was turned to watch daniel’s constant smile, to face his team principal. max doesn’t know what he was thinking; his crush is going nowhere.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑.

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35

© httpsserene 2023

[insanermin]

hate my guts, of course you do

pairing: ex!ellie x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol, drugs, toxic relationship kinda, mentions of nsfw but nothing happens v sorry guys, also forgot to mention curse words idk how warnings work, sorta proof read? :)

word count: 1,4k

summary: it's been months since you broke up, but today out of all days, your ex ellie calls you and leaves a message, asking you to come and you do come over for... closure of course.

"Shit..." Ellie groans low, her body leaned against the door frame. You can't help but notice her well defined arm and shoulder muscles, but you need to focus, this is not what you're here for.

"You called me?" You try to sound calm, collected even, but your eyes won't stop wandering. Just once you tell yourself, the other is too drunk to notice anyway.

Her green eyes and her cold gaze, you miss how her eyes softened when she laid them upon you. You miss the way it felt when she kissed you ever so slowly, knowing that it made you crazy and leaving you ache for more. For god's sake, how were you going to focus on talking to her when she has a black tank top on? You're head is starting to spin, you're still standing in front of Ellie's open door.

"Let's sit down..." You suggest, while Ellie hasn't said a single word this entire time since you arrived. The light is dimmed, liquor standing on her low table, her bed unmade.

Still, you missed Ellie's scent. She still uses that body lotion you bought her because you convinced her it would do her tattoos good.

Sweet orange and cedar wood.

After nostalgia, realisation always hits the hardest. You sit down on her bed, Ellie sits down beside you, her body sinking heavy.

Legs spread far apart, her forearms rest on top of her lap. Ellie hasn't dared to glance at you once this whole time, and 15 minutes have passed already in complete silence. She then sighs and throws her head back with her eyes, barely open, glued to the ceiling.

"Fuck this, I thought maybe callin' you up would fix things right now," she says, words slurred, but the way she expresses herself is long engraved within yourself. You look to the left, there where she sits. Inhaling sharply, you observe Ellie fiddling with her hands. This is bad.

"Ellie, I had things to take care of," the words leave your lips with a bitter taste. You just couldn't tell Ellie that she was not capable of dealing, no, not even listening to your problems and you tried so often.

"What things?" she asks, still not looking at you.

"I have a lot on my mind, I don't think..." You stop yourself. Ellie is long gone, she won't be able to comprehend this, you will just waste your energy.

It took Ellie a few seconds, but suddenly her body shifts towards you. Her eyes look for yours as they fill with something you can't recognise yet.

"No, not this again," she says under her breath. You're confused and Ellie picks it up, you didn't expect her to be this attentive.

"Things are so different now, you should see me now, you just stopped talking to me," she says, her voice full of fury and hurt.

"Fuck, you didn't even give me a chance," she mutters. A sudden wave of guilt overcame you and your narrative of what happened between the two of you starts to waver. But before you could even start questioning what you believed this whole time, you feel Ellie's presence distancing. In surprise, you look up, your eyes following her closely. You watch her approach the kitchen counter, her back facing you. She towers over the kitchen sink, her arms slightly angled. You can hear her take deep breaths as she turns around, you're no longer facing her back.

Now it's you and her, a few meters apart, face to face. Ellie is leaned back against the sink while her arms are crossed.

You've never seen her eyes this cold, this hurt before. She tilts her head slightly, observing you, her eyes scanning you up and down.

"Listen," Ellie says.

You look up, obviously shaken and when did Ellie sober up? Too many questions, too many thoughts, you're overwhelmed by this whole situation.

"Only once in this whole fucking relationship you decided to open up, okay?" Her eyes are shut closely, she seems to be in pain. And yes, she is in fact, in a lot of pain. Ellie's head started to ache a few hours ago, she didn't have any medicine left so she decided to go to sleep but couldn't after all. And to top it off, Ellie started thinking of you, what else was she supposed to do? Not drunk call her ex?

"And when you did, we both were fucking high," she continues, her voice still dangerously low. You can't move, you feel like you've been chained to the bed you are sitting on. That's when you realise, maybe, but just maybe she is right. But you don't want to believe that you're in the wrong, you hate admitting that you're wrong and unreasonable.

"Shit, and I even asked you if you left because of that night..." her words start to waver. This is when you decide that you're no longer an inanimate object, but in fact a living person. You stand up and walk up towards Ellie. Not close, but probably too close for exes. You've been silent this whole time because, and god you hate to admit this, Ellie was right. The only time you did open up was when the two of you were high and she said things you totally did not want to hear. And so you decided to tell your friends, never the whole story though and they all told you that you deserve better, you should leave.

"Don't look at me like this," Ellie says while looking down at you. You're so close to her, you can smell the alcohol mixed with her scent. The way she talks makes you weak but again, this is not the time to feel this way.

"I don't even know why I came," You finally say, barely audible.

"Because you missed me," Ellie responds, her eyes finally softening, in a way they would only for you.

"I hate you, don't do this to me, please," You say as tears fill your eyes. Why were you so impressionable? But you were so sure you're friends were right, Ellie can't handle you. Your thoughts halt for a moment as you feel Ellie's hand palms cup your face, her thumbs resting on your cheeks. You make eye contact, her eyes carefully watching you.

"How often do I need to tell you that I am there for you, I am here, never going anywhere," she whispers. When did the distance close between the two of you? You can feel her chest against yours, while the dimmed light barely illuminates Ellie's face or yours.

"You have to stop looking at me with those eyes," You say, desperately trying to stand your ground. Ellie tilts her head, you can feel her breath on your neck.

"What eyes, love?" Ellie responds, her hands gliding over the sides of your body all the way down to your waist, keeping her hands there. Her hands hold you firmly, pulling you closer by your waist.

You know you should leave now, but your body just won't move, and your heart yearns to stay.

"Don't call me love," Is all you can think of, your hands on top of hers, trying to get her away from your body.

"Give me one more chance, let me prove myself, please." Ellie says, her hands tight on your waist and her voice in a low whisper. If the sexual tension wasn't so high you'd probably say no you tell yourself, your relationship won't be much more than mindless sex so it's okay, you won't get too attached.

"Sure, prove yourself then," You say half heartedly. Ellie places her hand on your lower back, the other makes its way back up to your face, cupping it again.

"I'm serious about you, just so you know," She whispers, not knowing that she just crashed your plans of never getting attached again. You look up to her, completely helpless, you will fall, and that very hard.

But the way you look at Ellie makes her melt, makes her want to protect you from this cruel world, she still couldn't understand how she let you go.

"Come here," Ellie says, you just nod in response while blinking back your tears. God, this will be hard. She puts her hand on the back of your head and lays you gently on her chest. You look to the side, out of the window, hoping that Ellie won't notice you crying. Ellie plants a kiss on your head while mumbling something along the lines 'we will be fine' into your hair.

a/n: this was inspired by 'things change' bryson tiller, took like three lines out of the song hahaha. stay tuned or smth edit: i did some proof reading also does anyone know that tiktok where ellie says 'what eyes dina?' damn i folded

[igotanidea]

Teachable student : J.T x fem!reader

Summary: The idea for the story was here.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!, insecurities, sex talk, mentions of trauma

special thanks go to @gone-batty-fics, @lightwing-s, @elimonia @geekynerdfinallyhada-name and @dolliezxo for giving me a piece of their mind on the matter :D

***

„I’m sorry” he whispered, being at the verge of tears. Jason and Y/N were tangled in between the sheets their naked bodies pressed closed together but the situation they found themselves in was far from intimate and blissful.

He was trying. He really was trying to control himself this time. To hold his own excitement back, to take care of her first, but he just couldn’t. He came early without taking her pleasure into any consideration. He simply couldn’t please her. And now, he was lying on his back, completely naked, embarrassed, ashamed, unable to even glance at his unsatisfied girlfriend, who, despite everything, put her head on his chest in a trusting, loving motion.

Jason literally felt like crying, but settled on staring at the ceiling, his body turning numb. This was not how it was supposed to go. Not this time.

“I’m sorry” he repeated, hiding his face in hands to cover that stupid reddened cheeks and teary eyes.

“Hey…..” she soothed him, tracing gentle patterns all over his chest, careful not to prickle the autopsy scar “It’s ok, Jaybrid. I’m ok. You’re ok. It’s all fine.”

“The hell it is!” He yelled and the sudden movement made his chest rise and Y/N jumped with it “It’s not” he said again sighing deeply, a bit calmer, but still sad “I’m.. I’m supposed to…..”

“You’re not supposed to anything, Jace” she propped herself on the elbow and cupped his cheek and he immediately leaned into her  touch “if I can make you feel this good, it’s a compliment for me, truly.” Her smile could literally light up the whole room, and Jason was sure he did not deserve her. Her love, her care, her attention “I love you, Jay. Besides, it’s not like it happened the first….”

“WHAT?!” Now he jolted up, eyeing her with the most hurt gaze imaginable.

“Fuck….” She hissed, cursing her stupid big mouth.

“You’ve never….? I’ve never…..? Like…. never?”  he stuttered “Holy fuck…..” Jason broke free of her touch and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her, shoulders slouched.

“Jason…..” her voice broke a little as she tried to come closer to him. “Please….” Her warm hand landed on his shoulder from behind, massaging the tensed muscles here and he shuddered under that simple gesture.

“I’m a fuckup.” He mumbled, not turning around to face her. He just couldn’t.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuck! Of course I am!” he spun around, making her hand drop, eyeing her with a mix of fury, desperation and animal hunger. How was it even possible that he always wanted her, was always hard for her, yet never could make her come. HOW?! “Princess, I am a failure.”

“That is bullshit!”

“Really?” he smiled sadly “Bet it never happened to Grayson.”

“Jason.” she sighed “I don’t give a fuck about Dick. I don’t even give a fuck about orgasm, all right? I care about you.”

“And I let you down. Fuck, I’m used to hating myself on so many levels, but this? This is a whole new one. I don’t think I can ever recover from it.”

“You are being awfully dramatic now.”

“Am I?” he scoffed “Just because I want to make you feel good?”

“You do, Jason. I promise I do feel good with you. Sex is not the only thing….”

“But it’s important. How can I know you….. you’re not gonna leave me because I…. because I can’t…..”

“Stop it, Jace. I’m serious, stop it now. Just come here” she patted a spot next to her, motioning him to lay down “I know how hard it is for you, and I want you to know I’m glad you open up to me. I’m not leaving, all right? Not now, not ever. We can work through this. But don’t  close up on me. Don’t get lost in that head of yours. You hear me?” he muttered something incoherent, but it was enough. “Good. Now, just hold me like this” she snuggled closer to him and felt his arms wrap around her. “I gotta get to work soon.”

***

It’s been a hell of a strange day at work. Somewhere around nine she got a first text from Jason.

J: How are you feeling?

Y/N: Exhausted. It’s a hectic day. Too much to do.

J: That is not what I meant.

Y/N: Are we back on this whole sex thing again?

J: I told you. I can never get over it.

Y/N: And I told you it’s ok.

J: Y/n, baby, I am so sorry.

Y/N: Jason, seriously, stop it. 

J: I’m sorry…… I won’t bother you anymore.

Y/N: That’s not what I meant!

               Read

A couple hours later, all the workers in the office noticed a courier, walking through, carrying the biggest lilac bouquet anyone ever seen.

“Miss Y/N Y/L/N?” the guy asked and Y/n raised her shaking hand. What was happening.

“That’s one for you. Where should I put the rest?”

“The…. The rest?”

“Yes. I got a whole van filled with flowers for you.”

“But….  But…..”

“I would read the scribble if I were you.”

“Oh, yes, right!” her eyes went wide as she reached for the piece of paper hidden between the flowers.

I know it does not make me less guilty, but hopefully this will make you smile today.

“A secret admirer?” one of her work friends peeked behind Y/N shoulder and the girl quickly covered the sentence

“more like not-so-secret , self-conscious boyfriend.”

“ Oh, that is just so cute!” the other girl, inhaled the lilac “if you don’t want them I’ll take it. I have no idea what he did to try to make up for it in such way, but …..”

“that’s the whole point” Y/N sighed “he did absolutely nothing wrong.

***

Those little signs of affection and apologies followed Y/N for the whole day and she quickly realized that there was only one way to make Jason feel better. On the way from work she dropped by in a very specific shop and bought  a little thing for the evening. Hopefully this will do the trick.

Luckily, when she entered the apartment Jason was nowhere in sight so she had some time for a quick preparation.

***

This day was a shit, to say the least. Despite all her assurances and smiles and jokes, he felt like a scumbag. What kind of man does that to his girl. That, in this case, being leaving her high and dry. He tried everything to make up for it, but still felt the regret and shame burning inside. What was even worse, now that he learned he failed every time they had sex, trauma was heading his way with a speed of light. He was starting to get worried that getting intimate with Y/n would turn to be impossible with the knowledge he had.

For the last hour he was walking around the streets, kicking every stone on his way, throwing glances left and right, acting like a Red hood without a helmet, rather than like Jason Todd. But at some point, he had to go back to apartment. It was slowly getting dark, and he did not want Y/n to worry about him more than usual. She knew about his night work, but the ritual was to at least kiss her goodbye and promise to come back to her in one piece. He just couldn’t skip that. Not after everything.

The second he opened the door, he knew something was off. Maybe it was the darkness or silence or that weird smell, but his instincts made him shut up, instead of calling her name and walk silently into the bedroom.

He did not expect the view that came into his eyes.

Y/N was spread in the middle of the bed in some new red, lacy lingerie that covered barely anything, surrounded only by the scented candles, the light coming from them making her look like a sex goddess. Jason’s felt his mouth going bone dry and his pants getting tight.

“Jason…..” she moaned tentatively, making him shiver in lust “what took you so long?” fuck, she knew exactly what she was doing to him now, turning him hot and needy.

“I….. I….”

“Come to me.” She order and almost like hypnotized he approached the bed, sitting on the edge “Closer, you silly one. I need you.” she reached toward him and he hovered over her body, lips almost touching

“Baby….” He whimpered “I don’t…. I can’t …..”

“Shh….” She put a finger on his mouth “I’ll teach you. I’ll show you everything you need to know, but first….” her fingers started playing with the hem of his jacket and t-shirt “take it off for me baby. You are seriously overdressed.”

Jason wasn’t even trying to hide his desperation when he discarded all his clothes except the boxers. Needing her, wanting her, craving her, ready to do everything  she would ask of him. His single purpose to please her, to love her right.

“what do you need me to do?” he whispered, his breath fanning over her face and she smiled mischievously.

“Kiss me.” She commanded and damn, he followed her lead, grabbing her waist, touching that smooth skin, playing with the string of her red underwear, causing her body to melt into him immediately. Her hands travelled to his back, one tangling in his hair, the other resting on his shoulder blade, pressing him closer. “Now, lower, baby.” He pushed his head towards her neck and collarbone whimpering in pleasure his soft lips caused her “Mhmmm, so good, Jace, you’re doing so good.”

“Am I?” he reached behind her back, searching for the zip of the bra but she just chuckled

‘Not there, baby.” Her fingers intertwined with his, guiding them forwards.

“Oh, you little tease….” He whined realizing her little game, exposing her breast and nibbling on the soft skin, causing shiver all over her body, her nipples pebbling instantly.

“Jason….” she arched her back to him “Please….”

“Tell me what you need, princess. I’ll do anything you want, I want to make you feel good, just tell me how.”

“Lower…..” once again she pushed his head towards her belly “mhmm, lower.”

“Here?” he brushed his index finger on her panty line.

“Take those off.” She whined “Now!”

“Whatever you command me, princess.”  He didn’t just take them off. He completely ripped them apart.

“HEY! Those were expensive.”

“I’ll buy a dozen new of those. Now tell me what to do next, and you better do it fast, cause I … I….” he stuttered, afraid he was going to fail her again, bad memories creeping in his mind.

“No.” she cupped his face, making him look at her “don’t think about it, focus on me.”

“Believe me, I do.”

“Good. Now let me take some action.” One of her hands travelled down his chest and stomach, reaching for the button of his jeans, slowly unzipping them and freeing his throbbing cock. “You’re so big and strong and all mine.” She raised her body a bit to connect their lips stroking him a couple times.

“Baby, please, I won’t hold it if….” He whined.

“You will, Jason. You will hold it, for me. I’m sure you can do it, baby. For me?”

“Yes. Yes, please, just let me inside.” He closed his eyes, focusing on not cumming too soon.

“I need you.” she spread her legs wider invitingly “come home to me. Come now.”

She was so wet it only took one swift motion for him to bottom out making them both moan at the feeling. No matter the result, Jason was so afraid of, being so close together always felt good, emotional and touching. Fuck, he wanted her so much. Wanted to make her feel good, but instead of moving just froze in place, completely paralyzed.

“Jay….” She whimpered under him, awaiting any action “Please, move.”

“I….”

“I’ll guide you.” she whispered, grabbing onto his shoulders and bucking her hips into him, slowly at first, just to make sure of the right angle, helping him out for a moment before he caught up on what and where she needed. “Yes, yes, mhm, that’s it. Just like that. AH!” her hips raised involuntarily when he hit her g-spot “That;s it, Jason! There you, baby” she clawed on his back, leaving red marks and that stinging pain only spur him on more.

“Does this feel good?” he groaned kissing her hungrily, emotions and sensations overflowing him “Am I making you feel good?”

“Ah, yes, yes! So good! Jace…..”

“Better than before?” some crazy instinct made him put his hand on her clit and started stimulating her there, feeling her body slowly give in to everything he was doing.

“Better than ever.”

“Are you close?” he picked up the pace, feeling his own orgasm coming, a bit of fear showing up in his head “please, tell me you are close.” His thrust became harsher, faster, deeper, hitting her most sensitive part every time, her answers limited to loud moans of his name and those sexy whimpers as she started moving with him.

“Oh.. Jace… I ….” She didn’t even get to finish when her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave with the force neither Jason nor her were expecting. Maybe it was the first time charm or maybe he was just that good and just discovered all his potential but Y/N was completely spend, clinging onto him, her hands and legs wrapping around his toned body, not ready to let him go yet.  Not until he rode her high with her. Not until she felt him coming inside her.  Which was not really long after.

“Jason….” she panted when they both came down “God, thank you.”

“No, thank you baby.’ He kissed her deeply, lovingly, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes glistening with happiness “did I really made you come? Was I good?”

“The best. It turns out you are a very teachable student.” She smiled

“I had the best teacher.”

“Oh, babe, I have a lot more to teach you.”

“Do you want to start those private lessons now?” he smirked and she could not find any reason why not.

[mynameis-noe-body]

Okay, for marquis de gramont we can get reallll toxic. Both the reader and Vincent are angry with each other and are tying to make one another jealous at the event. Because they’re very kinda delulu and possessive they kill the people they're using to make the other jealous and confess their feelings

Thank you so much for this request, my dear anon. I hope you'll love this. 🖤

I am your slave

Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont × you (F/GN)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

Author notes: I used Google translate for the Russian and French sentences. Let me know if it's incorrect!

Obviously. You muttered the word under your breath, chewing its bitter taste, testing its sound on the tip of your tongue as you watched, disarmed, as the Marquis made his triumphal entrance.

The most influential families of the High Table had gathered at the Hotel Mademoiselle de Condé for a gala and business evening. Those weren't rare events, but that didn't make them any less sumptuous. Money flowed freely, as did the champagne, the drugs, the caviar. And the lovers. Yes, they were purchasable too. Women and men of supreme beauty, unattainable, sometimes sons and daughters who were given away, exchanged, lent — everything, in exchange for favors.

But the Marquis — Vincent — never had to ask anyone for anything.

With a gallant gesture he opened the door of his 1970 Cadillac DeVille and offered his arm to a woman. And not yet another high-class whore that he would have refused to touch even with the tip of his little finger, no. The woman who accompanied him that evening was a creature of rare beauty, perhaps someone's protégé. Perhaps his protégé. She was graceful, elegant, she flaunted a cascade of golden curls that would make Venus herself envious. And you, you felt flooded with anger.

"Champagne" you ordered, snapping your fingers. They served you immediately. You too had your power, and you had never hidden it. You knew, deep down, that it was one of the things that attracted him. Your shy elegance fiercely contrasted the anger that could ignite in your heart. The strength of your hands, the fury in your eyes, the power you wielded ruthlessly. Yet, in his arms and in his bed, you were capable of the deepest love, the most total devotion. He was bewitched by it, and inebriated. Therefore, he loved to instigate every jealousy in you, just to have you desperate at the end of the night.

Vincent didn't even glance at you. He shook dozens of hands, ordered food and drinks, laughed with his colleagues and friends. And he ignored you. At least until, from the door of the luxurious hotel, taking off his Armani coat and handing the keys of his Ferrari Portofino to the doorman, Mr. D'Antonio entered.

"Santino!" you exclaimed, with a smile so bright it lighted the entire dining room. Many turned, if only for a moment, to watch you gallop towards the man, with a hem of your beautiful dress grasped between your fingers to reveal crystal heels that echoed off the walls.

Santino opened his arms, and welcomed you with a loud kiss on the cheek. "Meraviglia! Look at you — beautiful, you are beautiful."

Santino was warm, welcoming, purely Italian. And charming, in every aspect of his person. He knew how to make any woman feel like the most beautiful in the world. He gallantly offered you his arm and ordered for you. His laugh was loud, contagious. His exuberant nature amused you. You had been friends for years now. You had worked together, sometimes — often you had worked for him. And he appreciated you. He was generous in his payments. And above all, Vincent was morbidly jealous, because D'Antonio had no qualms about making blatant advances on you, even in front of all those people.

Vincent was daydreaming about murder. God, how he hated him. And yes, he had planned to take that beautiful Parisian home with him, one of the new acquisitions of his organization, now that he saw you... you were his favorite. Oh, bullshit — you were the only one. Since he had met you he had no longer been able to keep faith with his numerous lovers. One by one, they had extinguished his desire, and you had ignited his. Or they were fallen dead, because you killed them. Many of them, to be honest. And every time he learned of one of your murders, his desire to possess you — body and soul — violently took hold of him. He didn't want to give in, not that easily. But now he understood how difficult it was to resist you, while your hand caressed the muscular shoulder of that penniless Italian. That coward. The mere thought that you could enjoy yourself under his fingers made him vomit — so much that he poured what was left of the wine into the boulle and twisted his mouth in a grimace of disgust.

With my bare hands, he thought. He crossed his legs and wrapped himself in his double-breasted jacket, brooding. I want to kill him with my bare hands around his neck. He would have done it. He was Vincent Bisset de Gramont, the Marquis and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He could have attached Santino D'Antonio to a pole and set him on fire to make him feel a tenth of the physical pain with which, due to that jealousy, he himself was now burning.

The young woman he had brought with him caressed his face. Or at least, she tried. But he grabbed her wrist before she could touch his cheek. He looked at her with the same hatred. "Go take off that lipstick" he hissed, through clenched teeth. "You look ridiculous."

She obeyed, humiliated, and reached the bathroom. Of course, she didn't expect to meet you anytime soon.

As soon as you saw her walking away towards the toilet, you took your chance, followed her and closed the door behind you with a sharp slam, waiting for her right there, outside her niche. She, surrounded by that shiny hair, those brilliant eyes, those scarlet lips, had raised a single eyebrow in an inquisitive manner.

"And you are?" she asked, passing a cloth over her lips, cleaning them from that bright color.

You inhaled deeply. "You know who I am."

She allowed herself an amused smile. "Ah," she had commented, smugly, "nomer dva."

You thought that, before speaking, she should have made sure that you didn't speak Russian.

▪️▪️▪️

"Dance with me." Vincent took your hand, intertwined his fingers with yours and dragged you before you could respond, or refuse.

He had chased you as soon as you left the bathroom. The Marquis had immediately noticed your flushed chest, your freshly washed hands, your disheveled hair pulled back with a mechanical gesture of your hand, your pupils as narrow as pinpricks. Magnificent. On the dance floor, he had first twirled you once, before grabbing you and holding you against his chest; one hand — the right one — on your back, the lower part, the other intertwined with yours and pressed against his chest, on the beating of his heart. And his face in the corner between your neck and your shoulder.

You huffed, trying to maintain composure. "They're all watching us" you whispered in his ear. He smiled against your skin. "You'll make us look ridiculous in front of the High Table."

"Mon amour. I am the High Table." Vincent left the ghost of a kiss on your neck before making you sway in his arms. Another pirouette, and there you are again in his inevitable grip. "I could order half the men in this room to lick the floor where you walk, and they would do it for me."

You barely held back a small smile. "I can not stand you." But you settled a little more against his chest. The soft, slow music lulled you gently. "And what do you think of Santino? Would he kneel for you too?"

His nails dug into your side, making you flinch. You met his icy eyes in mid-air. So cold, so beautiful. "The Italian. That's it then, you like him."

"He's a charming man."

"He is rude, and vulgar. So pompous."

"And you're not?"

You almost heard him growl. Vincent shot a terrible look at D'Antonio, across the room, who was watching you swing on the dance floor with dark, annoyed eyes.

"You shouldn't be here with me" you added, coldly. "Your woman? Where is she?"

He laughed heartily. "Oh, please. We both know she won't make it out of that bathroom alive. How long did it take you to kill her?"

But you didn't answer. You never responded to his curiosity... it was your game.

Vincent grinned. The kiss on your neck now became passionate. You felt his soft lips caress your skin from your bare shoulder to the tip of your chin with five deep, intense kisses. "You drive me crazy."

This time, you smiled happily. "You are sick."

Vincent looked deadly serious, hovering over you, his back straight and tall to tower over your beautiful figure. "I will have monsieur D'Antonio's raw heart served to me on a silver platter. I will kidnap you, lock you in a dungeon, make you die of hunger and thirst if necessary — anything, as long as you admit the truth."

He was scary. Exciting. Terrifying. Beautiful. You blushed, panting slightly. "What truth? What the hell are you talking about?"

He smiled. He leaned down and whispered in your ear. "That you love me, mon amour."

"I —" yes, you loved him. And you loved the way he made you feel. You loved that hateful jealousy you felt for him, and that he felt for you. You caressed his face with an unexpected sweetness. Your eyes were large, languid. Vincent felt his whole body tremble like never before... "I'll tell you. Not now, though. Tomorrow morning. Now, take me home, and make love to me."

He stopped. He smiled, looking younger than he was. So happy. With a ridiculous low bow, he offered you his hand. "Je suis ton serviteur."

[vodika-vibes]

You are a true blessing to this generation of Star Wars fans tbh

May I have female (ex Jedi) inquisitor!reader x empire!cody

Can be fluff or something more serious like an interrogation or a mission

Love you sm <33

It Only Takes A Spark

Summary: Your relationship with Commander Cody is wrong. You know it. He knows it. Yet, neither of you are willing to let the other go.

Pairing: Purge Trooper Cody x F!Inquisitor Reader

Word Count: 2764

Warnings: Mentions of Torture, though nothing is shown in detail

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So...when you said you wanted imperial cody and imperial reader, you really meant you want almost 15 pages of these two doing everything in their power to stay together in spite of everything thrown against them, with a little fix-it hand waving. Right? Because that's what I wrote, lol.

“Ma’am,” You open your eyes and turn your gaze towards the man standing in the doorway, “We’re about to land.”

“Thank you Commander,” You reply, your voice soft as you slowly push to your feet. Pain shoots up your legs, a lingering gift from the Grand Inquisitor.

Commander Cody remains in the doorway, his expression blank but there’s a hint of concern leaking through the force, and you can only sense it because of how well you know the man. “Are you in need of medical treatment, ma’am?”

“I’m afraid that this is nothing that can be fixed, Commander.”

There’s a sharp burst of irritation and frustration and despair, and you glance at him. You know that he’s irrationally protective of you, and you know that he hates everything about this situation, but he’s usually better at containing himself than this.

For a moment there’s no movement, and then Commander Cody reaches out and presses the button that controls the door, allowing the door to slide shut. The room dims, no longer lit by the bright lights of the main part of the ship.

You watch as he pulls his helmet off and stares at you. “The Grand Inquisitor tortured you again, didn’t he?” He’s trying, so hard, to hide the fury in his voice, but he’s not trying hard enough to hide from you.

“You know I’m not a very good Sith, Cody.” You remind him gently, “I felt too deeply as a Jedi, and my Master thought that that would make me a good Sith. Instead I just became…apathetic.”

“You’re hardly apathetic, sarad.”

You glance at him, and tilt your head slightly, “I think you see more of me than anyone else.”

“That I can believe.” Cody absently passes his helmet from one hand to the other, “Tell me, do you think we’ll find a Jedi on this planet?”

You’re quiet for a long moment, “No.” You finally admit, “I think the Grand Inquisitor doesn’t expect us to find anyone here either, but we have to investigate anyway.”

“Good. I’m so…tired of hunting Jedi.”

You’re quiet for an even longer moment, “You volunteered for the position, Cody. You could have stayed a regular trooper.”

“Yeah, and we both know that it’s the only way that I was going to get that advanced aging issue handled.” Cody scoffs, “Plus…” He pauses, “Nevermind.”

“Go ahead. Speak your mind.”

“Joining the Purge Troopers meant that I’m able to protect you, sarad.” He frowns, “Well, in theory. I still can’t protect you from the Grand Inquisitor.” It’s a ridiculous sappy notion, and yet you can’t help but feel touched.

You shake your head, putting the emotions in the little box with all of the other things deserving of your protection, “You worry too much.”

“Someone has to.” Cody replies, and he sounds so tired that you feel a sting of guilt.

He doesn’t belong here. He’s too good for this life, for the Empire. But then, you’ve always known that.

The comm on his wrist chimes, and you watch as he glances at it. Cody exhales slowly, and for a moment his emotions are a whirlwind around him, before they vanish completely, and he pulls his helmet on, “We’ll be landing in five, Ma’am. Will you be joining us up front?”

You don’t answer for a moment, and then you nod once and pull your own helmet on. “Lead the way, Commander.”

Cody leads you through the small ship, and he settles himself at your shoulder as it lands on the planet's largest landing pad. Hardly necessary, you think, but people are funny about Inquisitors showing up on their planet.

You walk down the landing ramp, and a trembling man greets you on the landing pad. “It’s an honor to have an Inquisitor on our humble planet,” He stammers, wringing his hands, “But I assure you, there are no Jedi on Mora.”

“Perhaps.” Your voice is flat, “A report was made, and so we shall investigate. I trust this will not be an issue.”

“No, no! Of course not!” Somehow the Governor wrings his hands even more, “However, if you do find a Jedi…I hope you know that we aren’t harboring them willingly-”

“I will not make any accusation until I determine whether or not there is a Jedi on this planet.” You interrupt, “I wish to speak with the man who made the report.”

“I…yes…of course.” The governor nervously turns his back on you, “This way. I will be more than happy to show you where he lives.”

“You already know who made the report?” Commander Cody asks. 

“Well, yes. He was very proud of it, you see.”

You’re sure that if Cody wasn’t wearing his helmet, he’d be glaring at the Governor hard enough that he’d burst into flames. And, frankly, you don’t blame him. Everything about this situation is screaming that it’s going to be a false report afterall.

Still, a job is a job, so you allow the nervous man to lead you through the winding streets, until you reach a massive house. The Governor’s house, he explains proudly. There’s a young teenage boy sitting on the front steps, nervousness rolling off of him in waves.

The boy looks at you, and then at Cody, and then back to you. Before he looks at the Governor, “You never said that actual Inquisitors would come to interrogate me!” He blurts.

The Governor glares at the boy, and opens his mouth to say something, but you take a step forward, and he stills. “Commander,”

“Ma’am?”

“Ensure the Governor here doesn't run off. Feel free to shoot him if you have to.” You order. You hear Cody unholster his pistols, and the Governor whimpers in fear, but then you’re focused on the boy.

He’s Pantoran, with messily cut lavender hair. His eyes are wide with terror. His clothes are filthy, but not the carefully curated filth that you’d expect from a teenage boy…more like someone who works hard labor.

“You are the person who made the report?” You ask.

“Y-yes ma’am. But I wouldn’t of if I knew that you’d actually come here.” He blurts.

“Then why did you?”

“Um…well…” He nervously fumbles with an old comm, “We…a message went out…”

“ A message?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me.”

The boy opens a message on his comm and hands the small device to you. There, written in black and white, is the message the boy mentioned. A monetary reward to anyone who reports a jedi to the planetary government. 

“We…my ma and pa…we don’t have a lot of money. And I thought…that amount of credits would be enough that we’d have enough food-” The boy rambles, “I’m sorry for wasting your time-”

You pass the comm back to the boy, “Did you ever receive your payment?”

“Yes ma’am, though it was a lot less than he promised.”

“Hm.” You turn your attention to the Governor, “You can go.” You say to the boy. You remain still and quiet as he runs off, and it’s only when you’re sure that the boy won’t get involved that you speak again, “I’m find myself very curious,” You murmur, “As to why you might want an Inquisitor and a Purge Trooper on your planet.”

“I…I didn’t have a choice.”

“Is that right?”

“You have to believe me.”

“I think you’ll find that I do not have to do anything.” You correct quietly, “Commander, bring the Governor inside. We need information from him.”

“Yes ma’am,”

You absently wave your hand at the door, using the force to force it open to allow Cody access to the building. You follow him inside, and shut the door behind you.

“Do you wish to be present for the interrogation, ma’am?”

“It is probably for the best.”

“As you say.”

It takes Cody three hours to pull all of the information out of the Governor, and you watch, impassively, as the nervous man’s body lies sprawled on the ground between the pair of you.

“What do you think?” Cody asks as he cleans his knife.

You’re quiet for a long time, “I think it’s incredibly ballsy for him to claim that that Rebellion forced him to do this.”

“I agree.” Cody checks his knife and then slides it back into its holster, “That said, the Rebellion would probably do a lot of things to get their hands on an Inquisitor and a Purge Trooper.”

You pull your gaze away from the body, “You believe that we are the targets then?”

“Would make sense, wouldn’t it?

“It would.” You agree, “Generally speaking, hunting the Rebellion falls under the purview of the Imperial Army, not the Inquisitors or Purge Troopers.”

“You’re not wrong.” He’s quiet, “We should return to the ship and leave. I do not want you in any more danger than you have to be.”

You open your mouth to say something, and then you pause and tilt your head. “Ah. I fear that this is no longer our decision.”

“What do you-?”

Cody isn’t able to finish as the door bursts open, revealing a large group of people in mismatched armor, led by a man wielding a purple lightsaber.

“...well, it looks like there actually is a Jedi on this planet, ma’am.” Cody says dryly.

“So it would appear.”

Mace Windu, who you thought was dead, slides into the opening stance of Vaapad. “Lower your weapons. You’re both under arrest.”

“Well, seeing as you don’t have any actual authority in the galaxy, I would argue as to the legality of the word arrest,” You say flatly, “But very well. Stand down Commander.”

Cody pauses, and he releases a heavy sigh, as he slowly lowers his weapon to the ground and raises his hands. You, however, just raise your hands.

Mace Windu pulls your lightsaber from your waist, and hooks it on his own, and he roughly slaps force suppressors around your wrists.

Which is unfortunate, really. Since the force was the only thing keeping you conscious.

The last thing you hear as the world goes dark is Cody’s loud cursing.

Cody impatiently paces the cell that he’s been thrown in.

Well, it’s a room, with its own fresher and a very comfortable bed. But it’s still locked from the outside, which makes it a very comfortable cell, but a cell all the same.

He feels naked without his armor, but he does understand why he wasn’t allowed to keep it. He wouldn’t have allowed an enemy combatant to keep their armor either.

At least they gave him clothes to wear. Comfortable clothes even. 

And he is getting three meals a day, though, tellingly, no one has come to deliver the meals personally. Instead they’re being delivered by Skywalker’s protocol droid.

Not that Cody’s been too eager to talk to anyone.

His mind is locked on his sarad. And on the way she crumpled when the cuffs were slapped around her wrists.

Cody’s no fool. He knew that she was badly injured. He knew that she was using the Force to keep herself going. He hadn’t, however, been aware as to the extent of her injuries.

If he had he wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the ship at all.

Not that it matters at this point, of course.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of his cell door sliding open. Cody half expects to see that damned droid again, so he’s genuinely surprised to see Rex and Wolffe standing there.

With Obi-Wan Kenobi standing behind them. 

“Cody!” Rex and Wolffe hurry into the room, stopping several feet away from him, “You’re alive!” Rex says, “I thought…for sure-”

“As if I would die so easily,” Cody replies, “I heard that you went down with your ship, though.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs awkwardly, “I did. I got lucky.”

“How’d you become a Purge Trooper, vod. I thought only NatBorns were slated for that.” Wolffe says, a frown on his face.

“It makes sense,” Obi-Wan says from the back of the room, “Anakin would absolutely want to keep you close.”

“I volunteered.” Cody says flatly, and when the three men jerk back in surprise, he continues, “Where is she? The Inquisitor I was with. What did you do to her?”

“She’s in the infirmary.” Rex answers without thinking, “We didn’t hurt her, vod.”

“I want to see her.”

“No one’s being allowed to see her.” Obi-Wan says, “She’s too dangerous.”

Cody’s smile is all teeth, “I’m dangerous. And I’m going to be more so unless you let me see her. And that is a goddamn threat.”

“Okay, easy there vod.” Wolffe says, “General, we can let him see her, right? So this doesn’t become a thing?”

“I think we probably should.” Obi-Wan agrees, sounding slightly shaken, “You’re not going to cause any problems, are you commander?”

“That depends on her.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” Obi-Wan pushes his hand through his graying hair, “Let’s go then.”

The infirmary where they’re keeping his sarad isn’t that far away. Which makes sense, you wouldn’t want an infirmary for prisoners located in the same place as an infirmary for everyone else.

Obi-Wan opens the door with a wave of a keycard, and then Cody ignores the three men walking with him. He pushes between his brothers and crosses the room to the bed where his sarad is sitting and peering out the barred windows.

“Hey,” She turns at the sound of his voice and he jolts when he sees her normal eye color, rather than the striking gold he had gotten used to, “Look at you.” Cody murmurs as he sits on the edge of the bed and presses a hand against her cheek, “No gold.”

Her lips turn up into the tiniest smile, “No force.” She offers as she holds up a single wrist.

“Are you okay?”

She considers his question for a moment, “I’m not in pain,” She finally says, “I had forgotten what it was like to not be in pain.”

“Oh, sarad.”

“I’m okay, Cody.” She reassures quietly, “Are you?”

“Yeah. They’ve been very kind so far.” He carefully tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Has anyone come to talk to you yet?”

“No. No one.”

“Well, that’s okay then.” Cody says with a sigh, “I’d be cross if they were interrogating you while you were recovering from a medical procedure.”

“You’ll be cross anyway,” she points out as she lifts one hand to press against his, “You’re so protective.”

“Someone has to be.” Cody replies. 

Her small smile fades slightly, “Cody…”

“Hm?”

“...if you want to stay here. To stay with your brothers…I wouldn’t tell anyone.” She says quietly, “You…don’t belong with the Empire.”

“And you do?” Cody asks, not touching on her first comment.

She drops her gaze, “We both know that my master will never let me go. You don’t deserve to suffer my fate.”

“My place, sarad,” Cody replies as he uses a single finger to lift her chin, “is by your side. No matter where you might be.” He leans in and lightly bumps his forehead against hers, uncaring for the audience. “It doesn’t matter what you choose. Whether it’s returning to the Empire, staying here with the Rebellion, or moving to Tatooine to pick up moisture farming. I’m going to be right there next to you.”

She stares at him, and then her nose scrunches up adorably, “Moisture Farming?”

“Hey, you never know. Maybe you’ll like it.” It’s something of a relief though, seeing some of her personality peeking through the shroud of apathy she adopted to survive the Empire.

Cody brushes his finger down her cheek, an idea starting to form, “You know…” He murmurs, “We could stay.”

“They’ll never let me stay.”

“They,” Cody says, his voice raising slightly so that their audience can hear you, “are two members of the Jedi Council who were so incapable of doing their duty that they allowed a large number of their padawans to get kidnapped and tortured.”

“...rather uncalled for, Commander.” Obi-Wan mutters from the doorway.

“If and when your Master comes looking for you, he’ll also have to deal with me. And I’ve become very good at killing Force users.” Cody adds with a wry smile.

She sighs softly, and her eyes close, “Alright then.” Her free hand comes up to press against his cheek, “We’ll try it your way.”

“I promise, sarad, no one will ever hurt you again.”

And a genuine smile crosses her face as she moves her other hand to press against his cheek, “Well, if you say so then it must be true.”

[xcaptain-winterx]

i have no idea if you are accepting request but could you write where reader is in labor and her husband, steve rogers is out in a mission and kind of missed the birth of his new born daughter

I love this idea💙

26:44:49

summary: above

warnings: child birth, blood, fluff, angst, sad Steve, happy Steve, guest appearances

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.

Main Masterlist Steve Rogers Masterlist

Being married to an Avenger sounds like a dream and it indeed is one. There are a lot of good sides to it, like literally never having to worry about being robbed, while you’re on a walk with them. Sadly there are some things though, that are not that nice, like missions. Of course you like hearing on the news that your husband saved people or when he tells you that they took down another bad facility, but you don’t like that he has to leave. What if he gets hurt or doesn’t make it back. Your husband, the famous Captain America, isn’t really on hydras friend list.

Steve’s also scared when he’s not with you. What if something happens to you? The list of enemies is long and knowing that he’s not always there to protect you scares him.

Everything changed when you got pregnant. The day you found out was probably one of the best moments in your life, and seeing Steve's face light up when you told him made it even better. Steve knew from the moment you told him that he was going to be the best dad ever for your little bean. He almost passed out when you both found out that you were having a girl. A Girl. A little baby girl.

He would stay up at night, talking to your belly about how excited he is to meet her and tell her about everything that is going on.

“Yesterday we painted your nursery, bean. I drew some sketches that are now hanging there. I Hope you are going to like them.”

“Uncle Bucky came today and helped me build the crib, while your mom was with her friends shopping. Don’t tell her, but we were both completely lost on what we should do.”

“I think we need to talk about the food you want. I may be old enough to be your grandfather or even great grandfather, but I don’t think that pickles and peanut butter are a good combination.”

“I’m so excited to meet you, everyone is, especially your mom.”

“Can you promise me to make it easy for your mom when you arrive? She’s been carrying you for eight months now and even if she doesn’t want to admit it, I know she’s tired.”

Everything was going amazing, three more weeks and your baby girl was going to arrive, but sadly Nick Fury decided it was ok to send your husband on a mission. Steve was furious when Fury told him. He tried to explain that he can’t, that his wife is going to give birth soon, but Fury didn’t give in. It was a mission that involved saving people from an underground facility.

You overheard them talking on the phone and how Steve is needed for it. Obviously you hate the thought of Steve going on a mission, but you hate the thought of innocent people being held captive in a dark room even more. You also saw that Steve didn’t like the thought either.

After the call you told Steve that it’s ok if he goes. He told you that he’s not going on that mission and that you can’t convince him.

And he was right.

For thirteen hours.

Apparently being highly emotional during pregnancy can help in convincing your husband to join a mission.

The day he left for the mission was not easy for both of you. He tried to not wake you up but failed.

“You shouldn’t be up. Go back to bed, sweetheart”

“I wanted to be awake when you go”

A slight smile appears on Steve's face “I love you, you know” he says, pulling you closer to him, while making sure to not put too much pressure on the belly.

“I hope so or I’m going to give you the ring back” you say with a smirk, trying not to show how sad you are “I love you, too.”

He smirks at you “Hold up. First” he softly slaps your ass, making you gasp and him laugh.“Now” Steve goes, trying to stay serious “You know I love you more than anything else-“

“What about Bucky? What about him, Steve? He’s better up there too”

“Ok, ok, ok” he laughs “I love you, Bucky and our soon coming little baby girl more than anything else.” A smile crosses your face.

Steve gets on one knee, now directly at eye level with your belly. He places a hand on it “Make sure to watch Mommy, while I’m away. Ok, Bean?” You laugh when you feel the baby kick against the spot where Steve placed his hand, “I think we have a deal.”

“Don’t worry, we are going to be fine.”

He gives your belly a kiss before standing back up and giving you a long and passionate kiss “Yeah. I will finish the mission as soon as possible and then I will come back.”

Your husband gives you another kiss before walking out the door.

The sun just started to set, while you were getting another bowl of cookie dough ice cream. Humming some random song as you grab some raisins from the cupboard to put in the bowl. Just when you wanted to walk back into the living room something wet started to run down your thighs.

Looking down you see a puddle at your feet, and that’s when you realize.

“Please, no.” Just as the words come out of your mouth a contraction hits you. The bowl drops to the floor and shatters into a hundred little pieces “Ahhhh”. This can't be happening, it's too soon. Of course you were told that babies could arrive sooner, but the doctors assured you that it wouldn’t happen because the baby most likely has Steve's super soldier serum.

Another contraction hits, this time stronger than the last one. Steve’s not here, you can't have her yet. You know you should go to the hospital cause the contractions are already coming every seven minutes.

You waddle over to the counter to grab your keys. Is it safe to drive right now, probably not. Steve and you didn’t pack a back for the birth yet and there’s no way that you could pack one now. Stepping inside the car you think about calling Steve, you know though, that he wouldn’t pick up. You take a deep breath before finally starting the car.

The way to the hospital thankfully wasn’t that long and painful, you're happy that you both live that close to the hospital and that you inherited your dad's ability to handle a lot of pain. The nurses there immediately took you in and gave you a private room. Again, thank god for being married to an Avenger. They checked you to see how many centimeters you are dilated. Fucking six.

“Mrs. Rogers, should we call someone for you? Giving birth can be painful and we would advise you to have someone with you when it happens.” The nurse says, smiling at you.

No shit, giving birth could be painful. That’s completely new to you.

Your husband is on a mission, Bucky is with him, Nat is with him, Sam is with him. Clint is not in Brooklyn and neither is Sarah. Wanda is currently on her honeymoon with Vision, and Tony and Pepper are probably having an argument right now. There’s one person that you know of who’s currently in New York, but you never really talked that much.

You think for a few seconds before finally deciding that it's better to have at least someone with you right now. “Yes, please call someone.”

Fifteen minutes later you here someone come down the hallway, screaming at some nurse about how Mrs. Rogers requested her to be there when she gives birth to a fucking watermelon.

The door opens and they walk in, “You’re huge.”

You give a painful laugh, “Thanks, Yelena”. She looks at you before slowly stepping closer. She’s a black widow who fought against black widows and dozens of bad guys, but she has never been in such a situation.

The contractions are getting worse every second and the pain medication doesn't seem to work. Fuck Steve and his super soldier sperms.“Ok, I’m here, everything is ok” Yelena says, standing next to you grabbing your hand, “Just take a deep breath.” Squeezing your hand, you slowly calm down. Yelena tries not to show how much her hand hurts because of your squeezing, and how relieved she is that you let go. Trying to distract herself from the pain she asks “Why did you call for me? We’re not that close.”

You look at her and smile, “You’re Nat's sister, which means you’re part of the big family. We may haven’t seen each other that often but I still trust you”. You say, grabbing her hand softly. Yelena looks at you, not believing that you count her as a family member. Nat told her once that the Avengers are like a second family, but she always thought that she was lying. Maybe she was always thinking like that because she knew that the avengers wouldn’t accept her.

Yelena looks at you with tears in her eyes. “Really?” She doesn’t even try to hide her shaking voice.

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have called you.” Yelena quickly wipes a tear away and gives you a big smile

The nurse walks in. “Let’s check how many centimeters you are,” she looks and smiles at you. “Your ten centimeters! I’m going to inform the other nurse and then you can start pushing.”

Oh no, no, no, no, no

Yelena sees the worry in your eyes and quickly grabs your hand. “Hey, I’m here. Everything is going to be ok. I will call them immediately when the mission is over,” she squeezes your hand “now let’s focus on that Watermelon”. You give her a nod before the nurse tells you to start pushing.

It was a hard mission and Steve is happy that he’s finally back, he can't wait to come to you and the little bean. All he wants now is to cuddle you and touch your stomach, while watching one of your favorite comedy shows that you already watched hundreds of times. He definitely has to take a shower first, though, when he gets home because he smells like sweat and dirt. He walks out the jet with Bucky by his side who’s smirking at him. “What’s so funny now, jerk?” he asks, hiding a smile.

“Well, punk, I think it's funny how I can immediately tell what you're thinking about. So, did you already call Mrs. or are you surprising her with coming home early?”, Bucky says, patting his back.

Steve chuckles, walking with him over to his car, “She doesn’t know, I’m going to surprise her”. Bucky can't help but smile at that, he’s happy that his best friend found the ‘one’ after all those years, a true angel. And now that angel is pregnant with his niece, to be honest Steve didn’t tell him that he’s going to be uncle, but that doesn’t matter because the little girl is going to be his niece no matter what. Bucky knows when the due date is and already made sure to be ready when he gets the call from Steve, that his niece is coming. Bucky snaps out of his thoughts when Natasha walks over to them.

Steve slams the trunk close when he sees her, “if Fury wants me for another mission tell hi-“

“Steve”, she cuts him off. “It's about y/n, she gave birth”, a sad expression forms on her face “Yelena just informed me, she stayed with her meanwhile.”

Steve's whole face falls and he lets out shaky breaths, without saying anything he opens the car door and speeds off. Leaving an utterly shocked Bucky and a confused Sam, who apparently just walked out off the jet. Steve's mom always told him to be careful and he always listened to that, but right now he’s driving like a mad man to the hospital.

Not five minutes later he’s there and running to the reception, “I’m here for Y/n Rogers!” The nurse looks at him and lets out a gasp when she realizes who he is.

“S-Sure, right away, Mr. Rogers." She leads him to the door and gives him a reassuring smile before walking away. He takes a deep breath, and another, and another, and another before finally walking in. You look up when the door opens and smile when you see the now dad Steve walking in. Steve's eyes move from you to the small bundle in the crib. This is all it takes for him to start crying and you follow.

You reach your hand out to him and he immediately walks over to you, sits down on the bed, kisses your hands and pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry I’m late”, he says, looking at you. “How late?”

You softly touch his cheek “It’s ok. Our bean just decided to come early, we can't blame her, she’s just a baby” Steve laughs. He turns to the crib and slowly rises from the bed and walks over to the crib. A tear runs down his cheek when he sees her little face, a cute small nose, chubby cheeks and a full head of blonde hair. Steve carefully picks her up and holds her in his arms, swaying back and forth, you smile at the sight of them together.

“Hey, bean, daddy’s finally here. Sorry, that I took that long, daddy was saving the world.” He looks at the information paper on the side of the crib before turning to you, “I’m 26:44:49 hours too late.” He sits back down next to you, one arm around you, the other around his daughter.

“I swear if you are going to blame yourself again I will hit you,” you say with a stern expression.

Finally Steve laughs, “Sweetheart, I’m holding our daughter”. At that exact moment the sleeping girl opens her eyes and looks at her dad with big y/e/c eyes. He looks down at her “Hey, princess. Do you know who I am?”. What if she doesn’t know him, he wasn’t there during her birth. What if she never heard him when he was talking to her late at night. She wiggles around in his arms. Steve holds his breath, is she going to cry?

She doesn’t cry though, she looks at her dad and gives him a smile, well, as far as a newborn can smile.

You kiss his shoulder, “I think she knows who you are.”

Steve kisses her forehead and after that yours, “I love you, you know.”

“Likewise. We still need a name,” you say.

Steve gives you a grin. “Yeah, we should decide that before the rest of her family comes”

Yelena walks in with a bunch of snacks, “hey отец, finally there. Next time you hold her hand” she says, showing her hand in a cast, “I also brought a few guests.”

Nat, Sam and Bucky walk in with a few gifts. Bucky immediately leaves the gifts on a table and rushes towards the baby. “Hey doll, it’s me, your uncle Bucky.” Steve hands her to Bucky and he holds her close to his chest, “Is your dad already annoying you? He has been annoying me for about 105 years now,” Steve lets out a small hey, but Bucky doesn’t care. He looks at you for a second, “You did a great job mama.”

“Thanks Buck, but I couldn’t have done it without Yelena,” Natasha nudges her sister, smiling at her, she knew Yelena would get warm with at least someone else.

The baby gets passed around and in the end gets passed to Bucky again because he wouldn’t stop whining. “Now, what’s her name? Let me guess, Samantha,” Sam asks, smirking.

You both look at each other before looking back at them. “Welcome, Sarah Brook Yelena Rogers, named after her grandmother, Steve's home and the person who stayed by me during her birth.” Yelena looks at you both with tears in her eyes, giving you a big smile, now being ok with you breaking her hand. Bucky walks over to you and gives Sarah back to you, whispering before that how she’s going to be his new favorite.

He looks at them “I'm the uncle, right? Don’t leave me hanging, Steven.”

“Yes, you are.”

“HA, SEE SAM, I'M THE UNCLE!”

[muzzleroars]

REALLY got hit with the line "Now this is a fight worthy of God's Will" and I need to talk about its significance, because it was always interesting to me that it's spoken by Gabriel as the Apostate of Hate. It comes in the second half of the fight in Heresy and while that one is incredibly interesting for the character development it shows in Gabriel, I’ve been thinking more and more about the encounter in Gluttony and just how the two are linked together. I discussed Gabriel’s nature as a warrior in detail here, but in short, he is a being made to fight for God, the battlefield being a holy place for him and where he fully connects to himself as an angel and to God as he fulfills his service to Him. It lights the divine spark within him, it is what causes his passion to burn fully bright and he is completely Gabriel, the Strength of God, in those moments. So where must he be when V1 meets him within Gluttony, what can he be feeling when he has fought thousands upon thousands of machines? There is no honor in these battles, there is no real victory, and Gabriel is growing dull, numb, devoid of any meaning. The machines are beneath him, they offer no challenge and they lack the capacity to recognize him as the angelic warrior that he is. His knightly virtue is smothered, stagnant, his very soul bled dry by mindless engagement after mindless engagement. He is totally disconnected from the self, an angel without their divine purpose and instead acting as a punch clock exterminator.

When V1 arrives, it’s the same despite a flashy entrance – He is more mechanical than his opponent, relying on automatic, rote tactics and repetitive maneuvers. He gets away with it for a bit, so thoughtless that he even pauses in his taunts as his pride dimly flickers to life, V1’s own movements clumsy and poorly timed due to facing an angel for the first time. But V1 is fully engaged, V1 is tuned to every movement that Gabriel makes, the data he nearly hand feeds it – every second its AI is learning, devouring each pattern and quickly mapping out Gabriel’s now own mindless motions. Soon, it’s landing hits, soon he isn’t, soon something starts to feel off. Halfway through the battle, something is wrong. It clicks for Gabriel when he begins to bleed and it seems V1 isn’t harmed. It’s still the same machine? How long had they been fighting? Confusion overwhelms him as he attempts strike after strike and V1 dodges with ease, why can’t he hit it? Why is it still here? The only answer he can flail for is anger, to burst into a rage when the battle refuses to bend to his will, to end. He had gotten sloppy, lazy. Battle, the one thing that connected him directly to God, that was his divine purpose and made him Gabriel, has become so automatic he’s blocking it out. The fire is gone. It enrages him, he flies into a fury at V1, this stupid robot that won’t die and becomes the avatar of his dead passion. A corpse with a pulse, an angel reduced to pantomiming the purpose God gave him against endless mechanical dolls, why, why, what’s happened to him? Nothing is real, he realizes he can’t remember any of the fights he’s had against these machines and his hands have been empty of his true, heaven-forged swords for each one of them. And in his rage, in his furious motions, as he’s consumed with how pointless and ridiculous he looks fighting this minuscule machine, his body falls to the floor, bleeding. His wings support his weight no longer, and every muscle refuses to obey him. He’s lost. Everything is empty, he shouts and throws a fit in utter shock, but has he truly burned down to ash?

And when he returns in Heresy, he is choked with his own anger, his grief, at his failure but too at his total loss of connection to himself, to his God. God, now dead in reality and dead in his own soul. There is nothing left, and so he doesn’t even have a choice in becoming an apostate angel, God is dead and he can no longer even feel him. V1 enters as the avatar of that loss, burns in his mind as a last desperate attempt to claw back the shreds of what’s left of Gabriel and he initially believes he must kill it to do so. To know God’s warrior isn’t fully burned away. But then a change happens again halfway through the battle, that primal spark lights and his wings bloom into brilliant gold and indigo, ecstatic. He is wielding his swords once more, they form into his hands and he is bleeding despite pouring what’s left of his strength and passion into this last battle. V1 meets him, it learns every second and it dances in perfect time with him, a true, real battle, after all the years of the Council bleeding that passion dry. “Now this is a battle worthy of God’s will” he shouts as a man risen from the dead – V1 lights him again as the angel he had forgotten he was even with the light now torn from him, his identity is restored even as he falls and V1 moves him as God once moved him – it changes one last time into the avatar of the God he lost. This is war, this is what he was handmade for...and it has been absent for so long. This machine restores him as Gabriel, returns his love and his passion and his divine ecstasy without the need for anything else – he is Gabriel once again even without God, without his light. It’s thrilling, exhilarating, what else could he do but fall in love when he is given his self back, when he is given the chance to be everything he is without being used by another?

[luvneymar]

(2) JUST A MILE AWAY — NEYMAR JR

— SUMMARY: You visit Neymar in the hospital instead of Bruna & torment him in many ways which doesn’t go totally according to plan

PARINGS: young!neymar x female!reader & young!lucas paqueta x female!reader

NOTE: I actually hate tumblr for delete half of my shit when I was trying to put the taglist ☹️ but enjoy!

Fluorescent lights shone into the eyes of the young Brazilian as he woke up feeling pain & irritation all over his body, his throat was on fire & he felt like he was skinned & roasted like a pig on the first of July.

As he lifted his body up it felt as if he was he was being punished by God in some way for messing around with a woman who wasn’t his to mess around with, once he was able to sit up he looked around the room spotting a feminine figure sitting in the visitors chair.

As he squints his eyes, he realized that it’s not his girlfriend who he’d very much like for it to be but none other than you, the very person who landed him in a hospital bed.

Neymar sat there watching your every move in pure fury questioning how you could even show your face to him let alone snack on fucking sunflower seeds & raspberry lemonade while reading trashy magazines. It infuriated him.

“W–!” Just as he was going to curse you out for showing your face, his throat betrayed him as it basically on fire. He winced as he grabbed his throat in pain frantically looking around for water.

Just then you looked up from your magazine after hearing a less than pleasant sound just to see Neymar frantically searching around for something, most likely water; or any liquid for that matter.

The doctors had told you that he was going to need lots of fluids for his recovery but just to be petty you decided to keep a bunch of water bottles hostage on your side of the room.

“Your not going to find any water around you, better start swallowing your saliva.” You nonchalantly informed him turning your focus from his panicked eyes right back to your magazine flipping the page.

He continued to search around for water praying that you were kidding, his throat was seriously on fire & he needed something to quench it before he died from lack of air & dehydration.

Watching him search around for water like a fish out of water for a good 10 seconds basking in his despair & desperation you decide finally pull out the last “water” bottle from under your chair throwing it from your right hand to your left.

Neymar whipped his head around at the sound of water swishing around in plastic with a relieved look on his face which was short lived once he realized that the water bottle was half empty.

He wasn’t going to trust any type of liquid in a bottle that you offered him ever especially if it was half empty. If he wasn’t in this situation where he desperately needed it he’d turned down your offer. Seeing the sadistic look on your face almost made him want to just close his eyes & die.

You closed your magazine & got up from your seat, slowly walked towards Neymar with a menacing grin on your face, it was almost as if you walked in slow motion trying really hard to savour the moment of your enemy completely at your mercy.

If you were going to be forced to be here with him you should at-least have some fun with it, right?

“You want the water?” You bent down whispering into his ear cunning grin still sitting on your face, as you pulled back from his ear you noticed an angry glare resting on Neymar’s face as he tried to snatch the water from you.

“Ah, Ah, Ah.” You waved your finger in his face talking to him in a tone a kindergarten teacher would use to talk to a child, the situation was almost comical to you.

Under normal circumstances Neymar would’ve physically taken the water from you but he was to weak to even leave his bed.

“We don’t grab things that we want from other people Neymar. Say please if you want the water.” You stood there for 5 seconds waiting for him to comply to your demand.

Every sound out of his mouth sounded like some sad cheap sound in a chew toy for a dog, seeing as how he wasn’t planning on at-least clasping his hands together to signal a please you spun your heel preparing to walk back to your seat.

You could barely take 2 steps back to your chair before Neymar’s hand grabbed your wrist pulling you right back to where you were seconds ago, except he used too much force & tripped you causing you to fall right onto him.

Your eyes widen as you felt your body fall onto his almost in slow-motion, everything happened so slow yet so fast you hadn’t even registered the fact that you sprained your ankle or the fact that your chest were right in Neymar’s face. Again.

His hand was on your lower back in an attempt to stop you from hurting yourself as you fell which wasn’t helpful at all seeing as how his hand kept you both in the position for longer than you needed to be.

Once you both had registered what had happened you quickly pulled away unaware that you had dropped your blackmail “water” bottle on the bed right beside Neymar’s hand, you weren’t even able to reach for it as his reflexes were much quicker.

He quickly wiped away the lip-gloss on the rim of the bottle quickly taking a sip of the “water” in the feeling refreshed, that feeling only lasted a quick second as his face cringed along with his tastebuds as he took in the true flavours of the beverage. “Ew, what’s in this?“

You hadn’t realized you were just standing there like a fool with your mouth slightly opened, flabbergasted at what had just happened. Quickly closing your lips as you cleared your throat, gaining your composure back as you spun your heel walking back to your seat.

Or at-least tried to, just as you put weight on your left foot you felt a sharp familiar pain run through your entire body, you jerked in pain lifting your left leg up as you hoping towards your chair. Damn adrenaline.

You hadn’t noticed Neymar’s eyes on you studying your every move as you were more concerned with why you felt pain on your left foot every time you walk to begin with.

You took your shoe off along with your sock & analyzed your foot checking for any damage, there was minimal swelling & a bit bruising which should be gone in about half an hour but nothing else to major; Thank God.

You sighed in reliefs placing both your sock & shoe back on. Looking back up at Neymar who had a superior looking smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes internally cringing at what had happened in-front of Neymar no less,

Neymar’s face & your chest made contact for the second time, unwillingly and You basically made fool of yourself rolling your ankle right in-front of the person you disliked the most in the world

“Wipe that smirk off your face you’re in no position to gloat.” You reminded him as you rolled your ankle left & right a few times just to avoid having to look at Neymar look down at you with that stupid expression of his.

That stupid grin he did whenever he succeeded in getting back at you better than your original prank at him was sitting right on his stupid face as he answered, “I’m not gloating, I just think this is justified instant karma.” You made a face at him before throwing some of your sunflower seed shells at him.

Just then you remembered his question earlier as you looked up from your foot with a evil little grin chuckling a bit before answering him, “Do you really want to know? What’s in the drink?” You raised your eyebrow at him.

The look on your face combined with the tastes of the liquid gave Neymar a weird feeling about it in his gut as if the substance was trying to burn a whole in his stomach.

Seeing his face of uneasiness gave you the feeling of superiority back over you as you laughed placing both your hands at the back of your head stretching out both of your legs. “Oh relax you long baby, it’s Vodka. With a little bit of Tequila in the mix.”

Neymar nodded before downing the rest of the bottle shivering like a alcohol virgin once he was finished, as he put the bottle down he felt something cold, hard & flat hit his face.

“Look.” He looked down to see you had thrown one of your trashy magazines at him hitting him directly in the face, “What’s this?” He picked it up, opening it to skim through the thin bright pages.

“It’s our magazine, look at the front page stupid.” You rolled your eyes at him as you begun to pack your things preparing to leave the hospital, your job to torment him & make sure he was well & alive was done giving you no other reason to stay there.

Neymar placed the magazine on his bedside table having no interested in it the moment once he collected his cheque, instead he turned to you with a confused look on his face wondering why you were there but his girlfriend wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “Where’s Bruna? Shouldn’t she be here?”

“She had some type of family issues so she couldn’t come. She sent me instead to make sure you didn’t, y’know die.” You explained snickering once you reached the word die.

“Which I kinda wished you did to be honest. After all you tried to feel me up.”

Neymar scoffed at your statement knowing what you said couldn’t be farther from the truth. “You tripped on your own two feet like some mentally underdeveloped bird with two left feet.”

“And that was thanks to who? Thanks you Mr. ‘Please give me water, I need water.’ Over here.” You mocked him as you reapplied your lipgloss before tossing it into your bag scanning the room to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

“Just shut up & get out i’m fine now, And remember tell Bruna that I’m okay.” He reminded you hoping you had it in your stone cold heart to at-least tell his girlfriend he was alive & well.

But of course you weren’t going to do anything good for him of all people without something in it for you. “I’m gonna tell her that your dead.”

“Fine.” He poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek knowing it was a mistake, “I’ll just call her myself. Just get out of here (Name). I already feel suffocated from your venom.”

“Good. Hope you die from it.” As you were leaving just a few miles away was a creepy looking photographer. One with a camera lenses that stretched so far it was actually stalker-ish was sitting on the rooftop the hospital checking the photo’s he just took on his camera.

The photo’s he was checking with such a menacing look on his face? The photos where you tripped into Neymar’s body, specifically the ones where his hand was on your back.

The angle made it seem as if you both shared an intimate moment together, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

In your minds you both knew that was an accident but photos can only say what they captured, and in this photo; you & him were entangled in a less than ideal position.

Even though you both knew what actually happened the public was going to take 1 look at the photos and from what the photo is telling them —You & Neymar were having some type of romantic affair.

TAGLIST: @watersquirtpewpewboomm @neymaruposts @aniya7 @foolsarehome @abluvions @rheasfavouritechoker @oh-kurva @sophiaspoet @i0veless @neymarslut @imagineyneyjr @mybloggyblogblogshitpost @onepunchisallittakes-blog @alchemark @innocent-daydreams @stressed-but-still-a-kpop-blog @strngtsblog @rheasfavouritechoker @sophiaspoet (send a reply to be added to the taglist!) 💕

ON HOLD

← prev [neymarsluv!] next →

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

A Ghost Of A Man (PART SIX)

Summary: The reader has to make an important decision, will she listen to the old lady's words and follow through on the mysterious way to save Tommy's life?

Warnings: Language, supernatural themes

" I hate him" were the first words that came out of your mouth as you stood outside the old lady's door, unspent tears filling your eyes.

"Oh my dear, come on, come on in" she said knowing you could only be talking about one man." Sit down my lovely, I will make you some tea" she said as she guided you to a small sofa in front of a burning fire.

Sitting down on her floral cushions you looked into the crackling flames, your hands now slowly warming up from the heat of the orange glow.

" Did you walk here?" The old lady said as she sat down next to you handing you a cup of warm tea.

" I missed my bus" you said tearfully, as you took the hot porcelain cup from her. Tea you thought to yourself, the go to remedy for all British emotional ailments, offered immediately when one is in turmoil, it's effectiveness completely useless on you, if only she had something stronger.

" What happened dear?"

" I don't know" you answered, still confused about the nights events. " I went back to the abandoned offices.. I've been visiting Tommy almost everyday ever since, everything had been going fine until tonight" you added as you started to brush away the tears." He was in a mood not long after I got there. Then I told him I had found some information that could help him for when he goes back. And that's when everything changed. He got so angry" you tearfully said as you rubbed one of your sore arms.

" He hurt you?" She asked watching you soothe yourself.

" He was furious with me... I, I don't think he realised how hard he was grabbing my arms" you replied unknowingly defending his actions.

A look of surprise flashed across the elderly ladies face only to be quickly replaced by one of fury, she was deeply angered by Tommy's actions.

" I am so sorry dear, I never thought he would... she said unable to finish her sentence as she let out a defeated sigh. " You have grown close to eachother?" She asked as she took your hand in hers.

" We have...well I mean, I thought we had" you said as you felt comforted by her gentle touch. " I wanted to help him, he took it so wrong. He said that I didn't want him to come back, but that's not true... I don't want him to go" you said completely breaking down, your emotions overtaking you. Sighing the elderly lady held your hand tighter.

" Tommy is a difficult man to deal with at the best of times" she said as she looked out the window into the night sky. " I'm not defending his behaviour dear, but there could be reason why he acted the way he did tonight" she added as she motioned at you to look out the window. "A full moon lights up the sky" she said as she watched you look out the window, confusion on your face as you tried to figure out what she was referring too"

" A full moon?" You questioned not understanding the correlation.

" We are closely connected to the lunar cycle" she said "Spirits even more. During a full moon emotions, feelings, dreams are all amplified. It's powerful in gypsy magic" she added as her aging finger pointed out the window. "The veil between our world and the spirit world is thinner, it leaves room for us to practice the unknown"

" His emotions and feelings. Feelings about what?" You asked naively.

" About you" she said with a smile.

" That man has no feelings" you said defiantly as you took a sip of tea, swallowing it harshly. Darting your eyes across the room you attempted to avoid her stare as she continued to smile at you. She knew you shared those same feelings that had begun to develope in Tommy, whether you had realised it yourself yet, she did not know.

" He will be going back tonight " she said as she looked back at the window patting your hand then letting go as she held onto her necklace." Would you still help him, if you could?" she asked as she stood up and walked over to the old cupboard picking up a black and white photo of a young girl.

" It's too late" you said as you watched her brush her fingers over the picture.

" What if I told you, you could go back?"

" I don't understand" you said as you furrowed your brow.

" Do you remember the first time you was here, I asked if you believed?" She questioned you as she placed the photo frame back down.

" Yes" you quietly responded.

" And now you do?" She asked turning to face you. You shifted in your seat nodding. You did believe, how could you not anymore.

" We are gypsy, Tommy goes back through the use of gypsy magic. You could too? She said sitting back down next to you.

" Go back where?" You asked, feeling increasingly baffled.

" Back to him. Back to 1922?"

A small laugh escaped your lips " What?" You scoffed in confusion as you stood up from the sofa " Look, the realm maybe thin and easily manipulated for him, but I'm not a gypsy, I'm not dead!" you said crossing your arms looking bewildered. Ghosts, spirits the supernatural you had begun to believe, but time travel... this was starting to get ridiculous.

" Gypsy or not, it does not matter. You are connected to him, your souls intertwined. Both drawn to eachother through time and space, don't you feel it...he does" she said standing up as she urgently tried to get to you.

" Look, this has been interesting. Thank you for the tea and for the welcome but I should really get going" you said sighing with laughter, tired having had enough of the disastrous day. " Connected, intertwined" you mumbled under your breath as you walked to the front entrance.

" That gold pocket watch in your coat pocket, connects you" she said reaching her hand out to you just as you went to open her front door. Turning around your eyes widened as you put your hand into your coat pocket, swallowing harshly as you grabbed hold of the small watch. " You need to go back to him Y/N, your running out of time" she said pressingly in fear that you would walk out the door.

" H..how, do you know i have his watch, how do you know my name?" you stuttered out. Walking to you she cupped your face in her hands.

" I have known you my whole life" she said as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

" Who are you? " You said as you narrowed your eyes. Smiling she let go of your cheeks.

"You don't have much time left Y/N, you need to help him, Tommy needs you. If you don't go to him everythi..." she said panicking, unable to finish her sentence, as she started to lose her balance. Alarmed you quickly held her up, and walked her to the round table in the middle of the room. You held her hand watching the worry in her eyes as she quietly wept. Her words were urgent, like her whole life her whole being depended on it. You felt so sorry for the frail elderly lady that sat before you, her state of distress evidently your fault.

It was morning when you eventually stepped out the old lady's home. You ended up falling asleep on her sofa. You insisted on staying, you was worried about her, worried she would have another dizzy spell. You felt unbelievably guilty that you had been the one to cause her to feel so much distress. She told you what to do the words to say, you politely nodded reassuring her that it was ok, and to not worry. But you could tell she was scared, scared you wouldn't listen to her that you didn't believe her, she repeated the instructions to you over and over again until they were engraved into your memory, insisting that you only had until sunset, the veil being at its thinnest until darkness covered the sky once more.

Walking away from the old ladies house you felt dazed, you didn't know where to go or what to do. If she was right if you could go back to help, did you even want to? He frightened you last night more than he ever had, what had gone so wrong? Walking along the roads you found yourself heading back into town, all of a sudden you recognised where you was. Turning the corner you looked up at the old abandoned offices, you was back. What if she was wrong, what if he was still there, you felt an unbearable urge to find out. Slipping through the fences you apprehensively opened the large wooden door. Taking a deep breath you started walking up the stairs.

" Tommy" you called out as you walked into the empty room. " Tommy!" You called out once again. No response. You nervously walked over to his office, opening the door you frantically scanned the room. His leather chair empty, the smell of tobacco and whiskey no longer filled the voided space, the chilling coldness in the air absent. He was gone. For a moment you just stood there as you looked out the window, your eyes filling with tears as you pulled at your coat sleeves trying to comfort yourself. You may have entered his world and turned it upside down, but he had done just the same to you. Sunlight filled the room as you leaned against the wall, you watched as dust particles floated through the rays of light. Looking down at the old wooden desk something caught your eye as it shined in the glistening sunlight. Walking closer you recognised it immediately. Laying delicately on the old wood was your gold locket. Gasping, you picked it up, tightening your grip around it. He had left it, left it there for you. As tears rolled down your cheeks you opened your hand and looked down at the delicate little locket nestled in your palm, in that moment it felt like time had stopped, your thoughts forever turning like the dials of a clock, until, all of a sudden your feet acting faster than your brain had you walking rapidly to the stairs and out the building. You didn't know if what the old lady said was going to work, you didn't even know if it was true, but you had nothing to lose, you was going to try to go back, back to 1922, back to Tommy.

You figured you had everything you needed already with you, so, you made your way to the location the elderly lady told you to go. Walking along the street you caught your reflection in a window and stopped. You may have looked ok for 2023 but you hardly looked like someone from a hundred years ago. Turning around you headed straight into Birmingham city center. You needed to find an outfit that would not have you sticking out like a sore thumb in Small Heath 1922. With that in mind you made your way to a charity shop in hope to find something more appropriate to wear. You didn't have time to waste so you quickly searched through a rack of clothes. You pulled out a long cotton maroon skirt. You was in luck because the next hanger had its matching jacket. You had a white embroidered blouse at home that you could wear underneath, one less thing for you to worry about. Deciding to forgo a hat, all you needed now was a pair of boots and a bag. After paying, you rushed to an antique shop you often visited in your free time. Heading to the back where they stocked all items of clothing, you browsed through box after box of shoes. Finally, you fell upon a pair of black boots that laced up at the front, one size to small it was going to be an uncomfortable squeeze but you didn't have any other option, picking them up you walked over to the bags. One caught your eye straight away. It was beautiful, dark red with embroidered black flowers, a silver link chain finishing it off. Not even looking at the price you picked it up and made your way to the front desk. Just as you did you walked past a small bag of money, opening it up you realised it was a bag of king George shillings, today's money would be useless in the 1920s, so with that in mind you picked it up and added it to the pile of items already in your arm. Antiques are expensive and you waited patiently cringing internally as the shop worker totaled everything up for you. After paying, you walked out the shop door groaning at the extortionate price you had just paid for three items, you begrudgingly dragged yourself to the bus stop to make your way back home.

Sheepishly walking into your living room you expected to see your friend, but she wasn't there. She must have stayed over a Uni friends house for the night. You felt so guilty that you hadn't texted or called her last night to tell her you wouldn't make it. Pulling out a piece of paper and pen from the kitchen draw you started to write her a note, telling her how sorry you was, and that you would be going away for a while to clear your head. You couldn't exactly tell her your real plan, she would think you had truly lost it. Folding it in half you placed it on the kitchen table as you made your way to your bedroom to get ready. You left your black tights on from the night before and pulled on a white slip that you had found in your cupboard draw. While putting the rest of your clothes on you caught a glimpse of one of your arms. Tommy's red hand print visible on your pale delicate skin, a grim reminder of the night before, sighing you sat down to put your boots on. Not knowing what to do with your hair and now regretting not buying a hat you opened up your vanity draw and pulled out a black ribbon, tying half your hair up with it. Gingerly you walked over to your mirror. " My god, I look like my Nan" you said as you stared wide-eyed at your reflection. Turning around you picked up the small embroidered hand bag and placed the bag of shillings, your gold locket, Tommy's watch and the paper of information on Campbell inside. Walking over to the front door you stopped half-way. " Fuck, I can't go out looking like this" you said aloud running back to your room to throw your long black coat on.

In the bus on your way back to Small Heath, your worries were consuming you. What if this didn't work? What if it did work and Tommy pushed you away again? You had left on such a bad note, what if he was still angry with you? You swallowed sharply as your interlocked your sweaty hands, all of a sudden you had the urge to get off the bus and run back home, your nerves starting to get the better of you, but it was too late.

"Small heath" the conductor called out, startling you. After a few minutes you made your way to the front of the bus.

" Goodbye " you said as you stepped of the bus looking back at him like he was the last person you would see from the modern world ever again. Frowning at the odd girl now standing outside his bus, the conductor closed the doors and drove off, as you made your way down the street.

The roads were quiet this side of Small Heath, turning the corner you saw the panel for where you needed to be. " Small Heath Cemetery". Fitting, you thought when the elderly lady first told you your destination, you couldn't help but think you was going to your death. Her reasoning was, it was the quietest place in town, you didn't want to end up appearing in someone's front room all of a sudden while they were having their dinner. Walking up the hill you slowly opened the rusty metal gate as you then made your way up the the graveled path. You looked up at the graying sky above you, the swaying leafless branches creaking in the wind set your senses alive as you listened intently. Stopping you started to feel sick, something didn't feel right, you felt like someone was watching you. Glancing around at the eerie setting, you watched as dried leaves tumbled along the ground, slowly coming together in a heap alongside a large gray tombstone. All of a sudden the metal gate swung open crashing against the fence next to it, startling you. Turning around you expected to see someone there, but the path was empty. A large gust of wind then passed through you, pushing you forward further up to the top of the cemetery..." Go child" you heard a woman whisper in your ear in a voice you did not recognise, you spun around panicked, something was here. Stumbling you walked forward, clutching your coat around you as heat rose in your fearful face. You came to a stop as you took out Tommy's pocket watch from your bag. A chill encircled you, someone was walking around you observing your every move, waiting for you to take the next step. With shaking hands you took off your long black coat and placed it behind an old wooden bench. Holding Tommy's watch in your hand you tried to turn the small knob, but your uncontrollable shivering was making the task impossible, that was until you felt a cold pressure over your thumb, you watched on in astonishment, as the dials under the glass turned the time to 19h22, what was happening?, was it Tommy?...it couldn't be, it was a woman's voice you heard. You tried to remember the words the old lady told you, but your fear and nerves of whatever was beside you was making you uneasy. "Take me there to where I wish..." you heard the gentle voice whisper once again. Snapping your heard up to nothing you started to panic, was your mind playing tricks on you in your altered state of fear? Swallowing harshly you closed your eyes and thought of Tommy, in a shaky voice you said the words,

"Take me there to where I wish, I give my hand, I won't resist.

Withhold my soul and deliver me forth, to a time from once before.

Now heed these words, and hear me clear, send me back to whom i hold so dear"

A flash of light appeared in front of your eyes. A woman was standing before you, her dark curled hair pinned up away from her face, a fur coat covering her shoulders. Your eyes focused in as you started to make out her features, before you could move closer she reached out her hand and pushed you backwards onto the grass...

" Go to him "

NEXT PART

Tag list: @theshelbyclan @babayaga67 @sysymei @nataliewalker93 @cherryslycee @globetrotter28

[bellezaycafe]

I Will Break Him || Mafia!Max

genre: mafia!f1

pairing: max verstappen x oc

warnings: THIS IS 18+ … blood, death, violence and the beginnings of a sexual assault. somehow inspired my Max’s broad shoulders (i think that should be a warning on its own)

comment: my first fic! let’s see how this goes. If y’all want an x reader version, let me know. Hasn’t been reread or checked :(

——$——

I had been minding my own business when they jumped me.

I was walking to my car from the library of all places. I’d been carrying three books on statistics in abnormal psychology for an assessment I had wanted to start that night.

Instead, I spent that night in a cold room, disoriented and aching. At least, that was were I had assumed I was kept for the night because I had no way of telling what the time was when I woke.

There was a man, leaning in the corner like a shadow, when I woke.

“I can see why he likes you,” the man deadpanned. I couldn’t make out any facial features in the sun light.

“Wha- What are you talking about?” I croaked.

“I can see why he likes you,” he repeated. “I would have taken you for myself if I had gotten to you first.”

I scrambled to my feet and as stepped forwards. I could make out his eyes, eyes that were dark pits of hate.

“What?” I tried to ask but it came out as a squeak. “I don’t know what’s happening. I-“

“Oh, you are a pretty thing,” the man murmured as he drew closer. I could hear the slight slur of his words that time.

I was trembling. My mouth had gone dry, my teeth clattered and my knees felt weak.

He took another step towards me, muttering, “I think I will have you. Here and now.”

Dark eyes met mine and there was nothing but fear in my bones.

"Please," I begged, "please leave me alone."

"Baby," he crooned. A wicked smirk curves his lips as he looked me up and down again. "Just give me kiss, then you'll be begging for the rest."

He'd backed me against a concrete wall, an arm on either side. I could smell the alcohol on his breath so clearly that I knew he had been drinking vodka.

The room’s door crashed open. A broad-shouldered man stood there, like an avenging angel. His black muscle shirt and trousers matched the dark expression on his face.

He stepped into the room, the gun in his left hand was loaded and the knife in his right was already slick with blood.

A second black-dressed man, followed. There was barely leashed anger and adrenaline in every line of the two men's tense bodies.

A third person entered, slightly taller than the other two with broader shoulders and dressed a white dress shirt. It was not completely white, it had been sprayed with fresh blood and some sections were coated with it. I recognised that man.

Max.

If I had thought that the first two men were angry, furious even, than I had not considered the rage in Max’s eyes. He locked eyes with my assailant and his intense fury doubled.

"Aaron." The second man said, then continued in cool and deadly calm Italian.

Max locked eyes with me and his face softened, slightly. His eyes dragged up and down me, checking me for blood, or injury.

Aaron turned to the newcomers, snapping in rapid Italian. It gave me a chance to scramble away.

Max’s eyes found Aaron again and the men moved in unison, the first two made their way towards Aaron, while Max made his way to me. He didn't spare a glance at me when he put his body between my assailant and I.

The first man, striding forwards, said something in Italian that made Aaron scramble from the room.

It was only then that Max focused on me. The fire bright rage was still there as he gently grabbed my wrists and checked for injuries. His breathing hitched when he found the bruising around my wrists and biceps.

"Carlos." It was a deep, tightly-controlled snarl I had never heard him use before. I had never seen him like this before. "If I see him again, I will break him."

Just past Max's body, I saw Carlos nod with an understanding I didn't have.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He whispered, as if I might shatter.

I shook my head. He bent his knees slightly, brining his eyes level with mine. “Ophelia, be honest with me.”

I nodded helplessly.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

I shook my head again, a sob leaving me involuntarily.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him.

“My god, Lea. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, you’re safe.”

I flung myself into his embrace. I needed that physical comfort, I needed hands on me that were gentle and careful. I didn’t care that we was covered in blood, I didn’t care that the blood was probably not his and I didn’t care that he seemed to be a part of an underground war.

But I would care tomorrow, and boy, I had many questions for him.

——$——

If you want more from Max and Ophelia, don’t hesitate to comment a prompt or recommendation :) - Belle

Masterlist

[pipi-un-kaki-in-pipi-land]

the knife i turn inside myself

summary: you get seriously injured when pursuing the hyde together with wednesday, and the aftermath of it takes a turn for the worse

Throat tight, heart racing against time, you were carrying your legs, desperately trying to get out of the vast forest which seemed never-ending. You clutched your wounded rib tightly, blood staining your torso and hand as the gash continued to overflow. It felt like your soul was slowly being sucked out of existence, and you were hopeless about it. Sweat enveloped your face as your tongue absorbed the taste, your mind slowly but effectively losing consciousness.

Before you knew, you had tumbled to the ground, completely knocked out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“y/n,”

“y/n,”

“y/n,”

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the call of your name. Mind foggy, eyes blurry, you painfully lifted up your head to see a cleanly stitched line along your rib area. When you averted your gaze to the girl who was right in front of you, your heart couldn’t help but thrum in anger.

“You should rest, your wound is beyond worse,” Wednesday said, packing up the med kit that she had entirely used on you.

“And expect me not to complain?” you scoffed at her, fingers gripping at the mattress beneath you. “I could’ve fucken died, Addams. If it weren’t for your sheer foolery, I wouldn’t be here right now, with a bloody horrendous wound on my ribs that would take a painstakingly long time to heal,” you ranted, tears filling your eyes. You didn’t completely hate Wednesday, you just loathed that she didn’t have the compassion to simply give a damn about others before going somewhere threatening.

The ravenette opened her mouth, but no words spilled out of it. “I-” she gulped, “I’m sorry, y/n. But you should know that this came with the purpose of finding out more about the Hyde, and you accepted the risks,” she said, not even showing a sign of pity for you.

“I didn’t know these ‘risks’ included getting gashed by a goddamn creature,” you answered, fury boiling in your veins. “Everything is always about you, Addams. You don’t care about anyone, or, in fact, anything at all. Had you known the actual ‘risks’, you wouldn’t have even brought me along, would you?” you seethed angrily, wincing as you tried to get off the bed.

“Don’t.” Even with rage twirling inside you, that command felt like a powerful wave as you sat back down on the bed for a split second before getting back on your exhausted feet. “Huh. So you actually do care after all,” you muttered bitterly, heading towards the door. You glanced at Wednesday. “I’m sorry we didn’t work out, Addams. I always thought that no matter what happens, I’ll go back to you, and you’ll go back to me. We were like opposite poles, Wednesday. But I can’t let this slip so easily,” you threw those meaningless words at her before heading out the door.

But deep down, you knew you meant it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the door shut behind her, Wednesday took a glance at her bed which was always overflowing with your presence. But now, her heart felt empty, as if something was missing from it. Her feelings were like a box, but now with your absence, the box had started leaking. If she had known finding more about the Hyde came with consequences like this, she wouldn’t have done it. Not for anything else in the world.

You were the light to her abyss.

You were the spring to her steps.

You were the hole in her head, you were the space in her bed, you were the silence between what she thought and what she said, you were her night time fear, you were the moments when it was clear.

She should’ve been the one with the wound, as she could never accept to lose you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at your dorm, you plummeted down on your bed, tears flowing out uncontrollably onto the sheets. Now with Wednesday gone and your roommate heading back to her homeland, you had no one to catch your tears. You wallowed in regret and roughly kicked your bedframe, but that caused your neatly stitched wound to tear up slightly. You screeched in agony but was too exhausted to do anything about it.

Drowning in your own tears, you fell asleep, surely hating yourself tomorrow.

The sun shone into your puffy eyes as you jolted up, looking under your back to see a small pool of blood. You couldn’t help but be thankful that Wednesday was good at suturing wounds, or else your entire bed would’ve been a crime scene.

As you headed to the toilet, you noticed a piece of paper under the door through the corner of your eye. You carefully picked it up, and it was a sealed letter with the initials of W.A.

And you instantly knew who it was.

Y/n,

You and I are the prime love story destiny has ever scripted. When our gazes intertwine together, that is how our universes collide.

I will always treasure you, mon étoile.

I’m truly sorry.

Yours,

Wednesday Addams

You instantly teared up at this magnificent letter the ravenette wrote. With no hesitation, you ran to Wednesday’s dorm, ignoring the aching pain in your ribs. Once you saw the familiar figure standing outside her dorm, you leaned into her, wrapping your arms around her with no warning.

Her first instinct was to push you away, but knowing that it was actually you, she embraced you even tighter. Before you could utter anything, Wednesday apologized again, meeting your gaze.

“It’s my fault, Addams. I shouldn’t have said those things,” you swallowed, regret already building up in your gut.

“It’s fine, y/n. I just wanted to make sure we’d come back to each other,” she replied, muffling into your tear-stained shirt.

You embraced her even more tightly, and everything felt right in this moment of time.