#this is a dead serious question by the way if anyone following me knows how to deal with this I will devour any and all solutions

[theramblingvoid]

Casually learned what pathological demand avoidance is today and my day is ruined but my life makes sense now so. Merry Christmas to me I guess :)

[multiversefanfics]

Girl Of My Dreams (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Warning: maybe some cussing? angst, then fluff again Summary: Summary: You work at a small diner down the street from the compound which Bucky visits often, so often that you remembered his order, but things got a little shaken up when Sharon puts her unwanted opinions in it.

You haven’t talked to Bucky in months, every time he comes into the diner you serve him and that’s it. He tries to talk to you, but you tell him you’re busy even if he’s the only one in the diner. It’s not his fault that Sharon said what she said, he can’t control what comes out of other peoples’ mouths, but the whole “75 girlfriends” comment really got to you, he was a very attractive man, so does he actually go out and pick up girls all the time? Is he a player? A lot is going on and you have enough to worry about. Bucky on the other hand, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He’s never felt like this about anyone before, he doesn’t want to lose you, but he knows giving you space may be the right thing to do he doesn’t listen to himself, he keeps trying although you two didn’t know each other for that long Bucky knew that you were the one for him. When he first showed you his arm you were intrigued, you asked many questions about it, and he had no problem answering them.

Bucky has never experienced that type of reaction when he told people about his arm, you didn’t make him feel like a robot or that he didn’t belong you made him happy and Steve and Sam saw that, but of course, Sharon had to go and fuck that up. Bucky stays in his room and only leaves to get food and go to the gym and every time Sharon comes around, he leaves even if he’s in the middle of a conversation and everyone understands they even warn him when she’s about to arrive, so he’s not caught off guard, which Bucky rarely is. There was a soft knock at Bucky’s door “Hey, Buck we were gonna go get some food do you want to come?” No answer, Sam and Steve shared a look and continued on their way, Bucky knew where they were going and after the last time, he was at the diner it was probably best he didn’t go with them.

A short time has passed, and Steve and Sam are at the diner and of course, they are in your section, you walk over and exchange greetings, you’re at work you have to pretend you’re happy. “Y/N please talk to Bucky; he doesn’t leave his room and he feels bad about what Sharon said.” You sighed slightly and rolled your eyes a bit “Why doesn’t he contact his 74 other girlfriends” Sam chuckled and looked you dead in your face “There are no 74 other girlfriends, Bucky isn’t the type to do that, hell I’m surprised at how good he was with you. Bucky is a loner, he’s over 100 years old with no practice when it comes to women, trust us.” Sam’s eyes went from super serious to pleading “Why should I trust you guys, you’re his best friends you could be covering for him.” You crossed your arms over your chest and stared "You don't have to but think about it. Would we really be okay with that type of behavior?" You shrugged your shoulders "I don't know what men think, but I'll think about it. I have to get back to work can you guys stay a bit and give me a ride?" They both nodded and you went to continue your shift, you had plans to talk to Bucky about what was said you just didn't know what you were going to say, and you didn't know what he was going to say.

Finally, your shift was over, and you met up with the guys. "Okay, I'm ready to talk to him." The three of you walked over to Sam's car, Steve opened the front passenger door for you and shut it after you were comfortably in the car, he got in the back and Sam drove to the compound. A short drive later you're outside the compound you take a deep breath and follow them inside, Steve showed you to Bucky's door, and you take another deep breath and knock on the door. "Go away, Steve!" You could hear his voice cracked from the other side of the door which made your heart break in half "It's not, Steve." You heard rapid movement and the door opened to reveal a very tired and sad Bucky. Your heart is now shattered. You did this to him, you hurt him. Well, Sharon did but you felt somewhat to blame. "Hi, Bucky." He blinked a few times and just stared "Y/N..." You rubbed your arm "Can we talk?" He nodded and moved to the side so you can walk in.

His room was dark and a mess. You didn't know Bucky that well, but you knew he wasn't a messy person at all. You sat on the edge of his bed and watched him walk over and sit next to you "Listen Bucky, I am very sorry for ignoring you, that comment really messed me up I like you a lot and I know I shouldn't have let her get in my head but that was the first time we hung out and to hear that I didn't know who to believe, I've been hurt before." You fiddled with your fingers while you tried to figure out what to say next, he saw your hands and gently took them into his. "I have never felt like this in my life, you bring out the best in me even if we only hung out once, the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one for me, and you confirmed it when I showed you my arm most people look at me and treat me differently, you don't and I appreciate that so much I cannot lose you."

You looked over at Bucky and smiled softly "You're not going to lose me, I'm here." He brought your hands up and kissed both of them "By the way I don't have 74 other girlfriends, I'm really hoping to have 1 that is if you want to." You smiled again and nodded "Of course I would love to." He pulled you into a hug sighing with relief "You already make me so happy" You pulled back softly pecking his nose "Now, why don't we clean up this room and go downstairs and I make us some food" He smiled and nodded his head. You walked over to the windows opening the curtains to finally let some light in the room. After cleaning Bucky's room for about an hour, you both go downstairs and into the kitchen. “Alright, what do you want to eat?” Bucky sat at the island and watched you look around the kitchen “What can you make?” You leaned against the counter and started naming things you could make “Ooh chicken alfredo sounds good” You smiled and started getting all the ingredients out, you looked back at Bucky who was just admiring you “Wanna help?” He nodded excitedly and stood up to come help “Okay, so what do you need me to do?” You looked around for the easiest task you reached over and handed him a pot "Fill this up with some water, maybe about halfway maybe a little more." Bucky can't mess up filling a pot with water, can he? "Is this good enough?" You nodded and instructed him to put it on the stove.

While you were cutting up the chicken you figured the water would be boiling but nope, he never turned the stove on, you giggled to yourself and turned the stove on when he wasn't paying attention. The two of you laughed and cooked. Finally, you were done and ready to eat, you both sat down, and Bucky looked down at his plate in amazement "This looks amazing" The two of you sat there in silence, enjoying the wonderful meal that you two prepared together, when in walks Sharon. You look up in disgust as she walks into the kitchen "Hey, one of Bucky's girlfriends is here, do the others know not to come by?" You could feel your blood boiling again and just as you were about to speak, Bucky spoke up instead "What the fuck is your problem?" Sharon looked at Bucky shocked by what he said but she stood firm "I just want her to know how much of a player you are." You rolled your eyes and continued eating, it seemed like Bucky had this handled, so you sat back and watched. "Y/N is my one and only girlfriend, and it's about time you respect her and me and everyone else in this compound." At this point, Bucky is now standing and staring straight into Sharon's eyes.

Sharon takes a step closer to the island. "Do you really want to go there with me Bucky?" Bucky walked around the island and stood firmly in front of Sharon, now it was time for you to step in you walked up behind Bucky and gently grabbed his right arm "It's not worth it, baby." You felt Bucky's arm relax and he slowly turned his head to look at you "You're right, Doll. Let's go continue our dinner in the living room." Bucky picks up your plates and walks into the living room, he sets them down on the coffee table and stands there with his hands on his hips. "Actually, you know what I have one more thing to say then I'm done." He turned around to face Sharon and took a deep breath "Ever since Steve stopped fucking you, you've been the biggest bitch imaginable, but one thing you are absolutely not going to do is, disrespect Y/N. You don't even know her and honestly, I would love to keep it that way so pack your shit and get out." Both you and Sharon stood there shocked. You never expected Bucky to say anything like that, that was the moment you realized you found the one for you.

Main Masterlist - Bucky Barnes Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: I really hope you guys like it; I tried my best to make it good for you guys. feedback is definitely appreciated along with constructed criticism, please the more the better. Tell me how I can make it better for you guys to read. :)

Tags: @megamindsecretlair @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scorpiosaintt @buckysdoll85 @grdh90 @thedonswife13 @scott-loki-barnes @b3llair3

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

[fortheloveofkonig]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the 141 x Male reader, they know alot of medical like they use their knowledge of the human body against anyone whom threatens them (or people the care about). They aren't a medic are doctor parday but have extensive knowledge of the field that helps the team. Seem cold uncaring and ruthless but if anyone of them is injured its like a total switch of 'mom bear mode' checking them over the gentle hands and worry.

(Kinda of trope of don't mess with the doctor lol)

Summary: TF 141 reacts to Reader who knows a frightening amount of medical knowledge.

Note: I'm going to do this as more of a headcanons type of post ^^ hope this is good enough! ^^ I did 95% of this all in the last 2 hours

Content: Medical speak, Injuries, Slight Torture, Slightly Bad Medical Research, But I Did Research. Roach Talks.

Word Count: 1085

TF 141 x Knowledgeable in Medic Field M! Reader

Ghost

Probably first heard about your knowledge from Soap talking to him about how terrifying it is to see it come into play

Doesn't believe him.

You've always been good at what you do but have never shown any previous knowledge or interest in the medical field so, who can blame him?

There was also no way you could've went to medical school unless you were years above your usual education range

He finally sees it come into play when you two were 'interrogating' someone.

"If you're gonna stab, don't do it right there. Price said he needs to stay alive."

Ghost looks at you, annoyed. "I've stabbed many people and seen many people survive stab wounds of surrounding areas."

"In lower places of the abdomen and with quicker medical care, if you do it there" You point to where he had the knife, pointed at the tied up man's skin. "It could puncture an intestine and we will be fucked. If you want to stab, move the knife below the belly button...about right... right there. Do not remove the knife once it pierces through."

He did as you said, with questions, but still followed your lead.

From then on he watched everything you did, even noticing that you took care of some of the rookies that ended up with minor cuts and damage that wasn't enough to bother the medics with.

Needless to say, he also ended up coming to you for some patch ups, mostly when he wanted to keep his new damage a secret from Price.

He ended up finding it kind of hot during the interrogation thing so he often asked to do things like that with you again.

Soap

Honestly, probably figured out about your medical knowledge after he was being a dumbass with explosives and almost got hurt.

"Go change into some shorts and a tank top." Your voice was in a serious tone as you went to grab a nearby first aid kit.

"Already wanting to see me strip?"

You just glared at him until he actually left and did what was told.

Despite having only a few scratches, you still cleaned them up as best as you could.

You also went on a rant about it too, about how dumb he was

"Do you realize how dumb you are? What if you actually made a big explosion and a piece of shrapnel flew and hit one of the carotid arteries in your neck?

"My What?"

"Do you realize how fast you would've died? Why weren't you wearing any protective gear?"

"I'm pretty bad at forgetting protection."

If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

That was not the last time you had to clean his wounds, he seems to be a magnet for them.

Asks you more about medical stuff, just to get an idea on how much you know.

You know a lot.

Unsure at this point if he hurts himself in new ways just to hear you yell at him for what dumb way he could've gotten himself killed this time.

Gaz

He falls out of helicopters a lot, that's the truth. What's one more time?

This time (and somehow not the last?) he ended up hurting his foot, you were there the whole time when it happened.

When the both of you were both safe in the safety of a van, you got him to put his leg up so you could check it.

"This is stupid" He mutters, "It's nothing more than it has been in the past."

"Shush, let me concentrate" You mutter feeling around his bootless ankle, nodding your head when you hear him hiss at a pointed touch.

"Any pain when you walk on it?"

"Possibly....yes."

"I'm gonna say it's a sprain for now but I think we should take you to the infirmary after we get back to base. Doesn't seem dislocated. Possible fracture though."

It was just a sprain

Was surprised when you spoke fluent...doctor to the doctor.

Honestly felt like a little kid in the doctor's office, watching his parent's converse with the Doctor telling them what was wrong.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

Price

Always knew, almost nothing gets by him unnoticed

Was probably one of the reasons he wanted you on the task force.

He knows how soap and gaz the boys are

Has you teaching rookies how to probably put a tourniquet on.

"What the fuck are you doing? That's not how I taught you."

The rookie you were speaking to just looked down at the dummy that they were working on and the tourniquet, "It looks-"

"Terrible! He's still bleeding out! Retry it."

Definitely has to sit in on these sessions, some rookies have complained to him that you take it too far.

You always just use the excuse that if those were real people and not training dummies, they'd be at fault for letting them die.

He agrees with you.

The rookie looks over at Price.

"Get to it. He told you to retry it. The man is bleeding out."

Mostly just sits in because it's less complaints now that he is showing he agrees with you in front of everyone.

Roach

This fucker needs a friend that has medical knowledge

Much like Soap, it seems like he is a wound magnet

Was probably the first of the 141 that you had to go full protective, medical knowledge out and work on him.

Man's like a tank too, no matter what the day brings to him it seems he's just able to walk it off

You don't let him

"You're limping, sit down."

He just waves it off, "'m good."

"Like hell you are." You walk up to him and grab his wrist, dragging him to a nearby chair and pushing him onto it. "Stay or I'll have Ghost lay on you."

Does not stay.

You cannot get Ghost to lay on him.

You just end up pelting pillows at him until he joins into a pillow fight, and you both end up getting exhausted.

"I'll rest right here."

"Good."

Stubborn but still okay with medical help

Often comes to you with oddly specific questions.

"Hypothetically, if a car blew up in the near vicinity of where I was at, what is the possible health issues that could arise?"

"Well, burn marks obviously, depending on the distance it could be any degree. If it was enough to knock you over, then a possible concussion. Depending if you hit the ground and hard enough, possible broken or fractured bones. Not to even mention the possible pieces of metal and glass flying, and just blast trauma in general. Could cause damage to internal organs with enough force."

"Okay, so...hypothetically, if that happened, I should go to the infirmary?"

"Roach, were you next to a car when it blew up?"

"..."

"Gary???"

You immediately dragged him to the infirmary.

[whyanne4]

Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 1/?

Word Count: 3k

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Masterlist

The smell of the sea reached your nostrils as you strolled along the harbor of Monaco. You couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight and couldn’t believe your luck that you got to move to a place like this. You’d just gotten accepted to the university of Monaco and moved into your little apartment right outside the beautiful country mere hours ago. The yachts that decorated the water were like out of a dream and you felt yourself daydream about owning one sometime in the distant future.

The hours went by and you decided that you would walk back to your apartment before it got too dark. You took your phone out of your purse only to find it dead. 

“Damn it!” You swore as you shoved your phone back in your bag. How were you supposed to find your apartment now? You had forgotten the address and your plan of just opening the pinned location on google maps won’t work now. 

‘How hard can it be?’ You thought to yourself as you decided to try and find your way home based on memory. The streets of Monaco were hard to navigate and you found yourself completely lost. You took a left turn, hoping for the best. You walked quietly along the street when you heard a man raise his voice followed by what sounded like more men arguing. 

You tried to make yourself ready to run in case the men were a threat. You decided  that continuing to walk to get yourself away from the situation was the best choice. The fact that your phone was dead weighed heavily on your mind. If the men were to attack you’d have no way of alerting anyone. 

The voices got louder as you walked and when you turned the corner you saw four men arguing. It looked like it was serious based on their tense stances, ready to fight. 

“Fuck you Leclerc. You think you’re so fucking powerful just because you inherited the biggest mob of Monaco and France from daddy huh? Well guess what? Daddy isn’t here anymore” The first man said as he and his friends cornered this “Leclerc” guy. You resisted the urge to gasp, not wanting to make a sound. This was the mafia. If anyone knew you were here you’d be in big trouble.

“You think I’m scared of you Bassett? I have more money and resources then you could ever dream of. And not to mention balls. Cornering me with two other men as I leave the casino is not what I would consider brave” The second man spoke arrogantly even if it was clear that he was at a disadvantage seeing as they were three against one. 

“I don’t need balls to do this.” You wondered what he ment but your questions were soon answered as you heard the click of a gun.

“You’re a fucking pussy you know that right?” Leclerc spoke, still calm as ever. “You owe me millions and instead of paying me back you’re going to shoot me? You know, it sounds to me as if you’re not as rich as you claim to be Mr. Bassett."  You didn't have the time to process his words before four gunshots were heard and three bodies fell to the ground. 

You yelped, you didn’t mean to but you couldn’t help it, the gunshots took you by surprise.

“Who’s there?” The man, Leclerc, was still standing above the three corpses and he was looking right into your eyes. His intense stare sent shivers up your spine. He started to walk towards you with determined steps.

‘So this is how I die?’ You think to yourself as he approaches you. You close your eyes, ready to feel the pain of a bullet but before you feel anything you hear the man collapse. You open your eyes and look at him, he’s on one knee, branching himself against the wall to stay upright. As you look closely you see a pool of red blood form on his white button up shirt. You watch in horror as it grows, a bullet must’ve hit him. Despite how afraid of this man you were you couldn’t let him die here.

“Are you okay sir? You asked quietly as you slowly approached him. The only response you got was a groan. You knelt beside him and took off your cardigan and pressed it to the wound. 

“Okay I think you need to lay down on your back.” You told him as you felt him become unstable. He did as you told him to and groaned when he had to move but didn’t complain. You reached for your phone to call an ambulance but remembered that it didn’t have any charge left.  “Do you have a phone? I need to call the ambulance” You asked the brunette in front of you. 

“Front left pocket.” He grumbled and you reached into his pocket. You quickly called the ambulance who told you that they were on their way and told you to keep him conscious and to keep pressure on the wound.

“So I have to keep you awake.” You started talking with him, deciding that it was the best way to keep him from blacking out. “Um… I’m Y/N.” You said, not having any idea of what to talk about.

“Charles” He said in a raspy voice.

‘Damn he’s kinda hot’ you thought as you got a closer look of him, his piercing green eyes looking into yours made your mind all fuzzy. ‘Fuck, Y/N concentrate’ you snapped out of your trance to focus on the task at hand.

“Um… so you want to tell me what just happened?” You ask him to try and get him to continue talking. It was probably a stupid question because if he was really in the mafia he wouldn’t tell you, a random girl, about it.

But it seemed as if bleeding out loosened his lips because he told you everything. How the leader of another mod owed him millions of euros and refused to pay him back. Instead cornered him after a night out.

Charles winced in pain as he continued to speak, his voice strained but determined. "You see, Y/N, this city might look like a paradise on the surface, but beneath it all, there's a constant power struggle. My family has been deeply involved in this world for generations, and sometimes, conflicts like these are inevitable."

You listened intently, both to his words and to the distant sound of approaching sirens. Time was of the essence, and you had to keep him conscious until help arrived.

Charles took shallow breaths, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a brave one, you know that? Most people would have run away screaming. But you stayed and helped me. Why?"

You shrugged, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through you. "I couldn't just leave you here," you replied, pressing the cardigan against his wound a little firmer. "We're all human, right?" You tried to lighten the mood by sending him a reassuring smile.

He nodded in agreement, wincing at the pain. "You have a kind heart, Y/N. I've seen too much darkness in this world."

“Try not to move” You put your free hand on his forehead and gently laid his head back onto the ground.  

As you continued to apply pressure to his wound, Charles delved deeper into the complexities of his life. He talked about the struggles of maintaining power in a world where alliances were fragile, trust was scarce, and violence was always lurking in the shadows.

Sirens grew closer, their wailing an urgent reminder of the impending arrival of help. You could hear the paramedics getting closer.

Charles managed a faint smile, his green eyes softer now. "You, Y/N, might have just saved my life. And that's no small feat in this world. I owe you a debt of gratitude."

You chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I hope you recover quickly. And maybe consider... finding a less dangerous line of work?"

Charles chuckled, though it quickly turned into a cough, and he winced. "I wish it were that simple, Y/N. But in my world, things are never straightforward."

As the paramedics arrived and took over, you stepped back to give them space, watching as they worked swiftly to stabilize Charles. He was whisked away on a stretcher, disappearing into the back of the ambulance.

One of the paramedics approached you, asking for your account of what happened. You recounted the events as best as you could, leaving out the more sensitive details about Charles's life. You didn't want to be involved any more deeply than you already were.

After the ambulance sped away, you were left standing there, alone on the dimly lit street. The adrenaline began to fade, and the reality of your situation hit you. You were still lost in an unfamiliar city, and now, you had a surreal encounter with the local mafia to add to your list of experiences.

With a sigh, you decided to try and find your way back to your apartment once more, this time determined to ask for directions if needed. You couldn't help but replay the events in your mind as you walked. Monaco had revealed a darker side to itself, one you never expected when you first arrived in this glamorous city.

Little did you know that your chance encounter with Charles Leclerc would set in motion a series of events that would entangle you further in the secrets and intrigues of Monaco, a world far removed from the idyllic facade it presented to the world.

Two months later you find yourself getting ready for a charity event for the university. From your understanding, some very influential business owner was hosting this gala in order to bring more funding to the school. You, alongside 24 other students, had been selected to attend this event. 

‘I really hate to mingle.’ You think as you exit the cab in your floor length blue dress. 

The night air was cool and carried a salty tang as you stepped out of the cab, the lights of the venue beckoning you. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the mingling and socializing you were about to endure. It wasn't your favorite activity, but you knew it was necessary, an invaluable opportunity to network with some of Monaco’s elite.

As you entered the venue, the opulence of the event struck you. The ceilings were adorned with crystal chandeliers, the walls draped in luxurious fabrics, and there was an air of sophistication that seemed to hang in the atmosphere. It was clear that this was a gathering of the wealthy and influential.

You began to navigate the room, attempting to strike up conversations with various attendees. Many were donors or businesspeople, keen on discussing their ventures and achievements. While you were polite and engaged in the discussions, your mind kept drifting back to that fateful night with Charles and the encounter with the mafia.

It was a blurry line between the glamorous facade of Monaco's elite and the hidden, dangerous world that lurked in its shadows. You wondered how many of these seemingly respectable individuals were involved in the kind of underworld you had witnessed that night.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, a familiar voice broke through. "Hello beautiful”

Startled, you turned to see none other than Charles Leclerc standing before you, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. He offered you a polite smile, his earlier wounds seemingly healed, at least physically. The surprise of seeing him here, at this event, momentarily left you speechless.

"Hi," you managed to reply despite your initial shock, a little flustered as you offered him a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here," you spoke, attempting to break the ice.

"I would say the same about you but then I’d be lying" Charles remarked, his eyes probing yet gentle. "I hosted this event to find you. You've been on my mind since that night."

“You’re the host?” You exclaimed, eyes wide at this knowledge. “Why?”

“As I said. You’ve been on my mind every day for the last two months.” He admitted, his gaze was intense as he searched your eyes for a reaction.

“How did you know where I go to school? All you knew was my first name” You questioned him.

“I have my ways” He said nonchalantly.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—surprise, curiosity, and a lingering unease. Charles Leclerc, the enigmatic figure you had encountered that fateful night, had hosted this prestigious event specifically to find you. It was a revelation that left you both intrigued and cautious.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you again after that night," you confessed, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. "And hosting this event to find me? That's quite... unusual."

Charles chuckled softly, his charm as captivating as ever. "Unusual, perhaps, but when something captures my attention, I tend to pursue it relentlessly. And you, Y/N, have captured my attention in a way I can't quite explain."

You weren't sure how to respond to his admission. It felt like there were layers to Charles Leclerc that you had yet to uncover, and being in this elegant setting with him only added to the intrigue. Despite the initial danger and the circumstances of your first meeting, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you.

"So, what do you want from me, Charles?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You couldn't help but feel that there was more to this encounter than met the eye.

Charles leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper amidst the chatter of the gala. "I want to get to know you, Y/N. Beyond the chaos of that night and the secrets we both carry. I want to understand the woman who stayed by my side when others would have fled. And," he added with a wry smile, "I'd like you to consider giving me a chance to show you a different side of me, one that doesn't always dwell in the shadows."

His words hung in the air, laden with both mystery and sincerity. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on you, nor could you ignore the curiosity that had driven you to seek answers about the darker side of this city.

"I'll admit, Charles, you've managed to pique my curiosity," you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not one to rush into things, especially when the circumstances are so… chaotic."

Charles nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I understand. Take your time. Just know that I'm not one to give up easily when I want something."

“I figured” You can’t help but chuckle. “I mean you hosted this event just to talk to me”

“Oh darling, you haven’t seen half of the things I can do if I put my mind to something” His voice was playful but you had a feeling that he was in fact not joking.

You found yourself both intrigued and cautious about the enigmatic man before you. Charles Leclerc's world was undoubtedly complex and filled with danger, yet there was an undeniable allure in his presence. The mingling crowd and the opulent setting seemed to fade into the background as the two of you continued your conversation.

As the night wore on, Charles shared more about his life, the intricacies of the power struggles in Monaco, and the delicate balance he had to maintain within the world he inhabited. He spoke of his family's history and the responsibilities that came with their name, all while maintaining an air of charm and charisma that was impossible to resist.

You, in turn, shared your own story, your dreams and aspirations, and the reasons you had come to Monaco in the first place. The more you talked, the more you realized how different your worlds were, yet there was an undeniable connection between you, a spark that refused to be extinguished.

As the gala continued, you couldn't help but wonder if this chance encounter with Charles was meant to be more than just a twist of fate. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and despite the chaos and danger that had initially brought you together, you felt a growing curiosity about the man who had hosted this event just to find you.

The evening came to a close, and Charles walked you to your cab, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. "I hope you consider my offer, Y/N," he said as he opened the cab door for you. "I promise you, there's much more to discover about both Monaco and me."

You nodded, still cautious but undeniably intrigued. "I'll keep that in mind, Charles. But for now, I have a lot to process."

Charles leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Take your time," he whispered before placing a gentle, lingering kiss on your cheek. "Until we meet again."

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the night, you couldn't help but wonder if your path had just taken an unexpected turn into a world of secrets, intrigue, and a love story unlike any other. Monaco had revealed its hidden depths, and you were about to dive headfirst into the depths of the unknown, with Charles Leclerc as your guide.

The cab pulled away, leaving the gala behind, but the memory of that night lingered in your mind. You knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but you couldn't deny the thrill of the journey that lay ahead.

As the city of Monaco glimmered in the distance, you couldn't help but feel that your life had just taken a thrilling and dangerous turn, and you were ready to embrace the adventure, no matter where it might lead.

[ily-fictional-women]

The Monster I am

Summary: After an argument Wanda realizes she may be the monster everyone says she is. 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Arguing and mentions of blood

Word count: 1112

a/n: Surprise! Not dead! The fanfiction writer curse is just very real. Anyways here’s some hurt comfort for y’all. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

As Y/n and Wanda rode the Quinjet with the rest of the team coming back from a mission the negative energy between the two was obvious. Trying to somewhat make amends Wanda began inching her hand towards Y/n’s since she was still sitting next to her. But as soon as her hand grazed Y/n’s Y/n quickly moved her hand away not in the mood for any type of contact. 

Landing at the compound Y/n was the first one to grab her duffle bag and quickly make her way back to the bedrooms with Wanda following her. It doesn’t take long before Wanda is knocking on the door pleading with Y/n her. 

“Y/n, sweetheart please open the door. I just want to talk.” With no response, Wanda could feel a lump grow in her throat. She manages to slip out a joke, “Uh, you know this is my room too right?” Y/n finally opens the door but Wanda is met with a serious expression. “How are we supposed to talk Wanda? You have been getting yourself needlessly hurt to do what? Protect me?”  

Wanda could feel her eyes start to brim with tears but she moved closer to Y/n anyways. “Yes Y/n! That’s all I’ve been trying to do! I love you!” Y/n presses her hands against her face in frustration, “Well then maybe you need to stop Wanda. It seems like you’re forgetting I signed up for this job too. And when you’re too focused on me you’re putting our teammates in danger!” 

Wanda inches closer to Y/n again, “I can’t lose anyone else!” Wanda’s voice softens, “I’ve lost my mother, father, and brother. If I lose one more person I love I don’t know what will happen to me.” Y/n bites the inside of her cheek trying to figure out the right thing to say. 

“I know that Wanda, and I understand that. But that’s also not an excuse to endanger the lives of people I care about.” Wanda lifts up a hand to caress Y/n’s cheek, but at the speed she did it Y/n flinches back. The one simple motion stopped any tears Wanda had in her and replaced them with a special mixture of hurt and anger. 

“Did- did you think I was going to hit you?” Y/n stammers holding back tears of her own, “I- I don’t know.” Wanda clenches her fists trying to hold in any type of intense feelings. 

“Answer. The. Question.” 

“Wanda…” Y/n looks down at something but Wanda can’t be concerned with it. She screams at the top of her lungs, “Just tell me!” She hears a loud thunk. Opening her eyes Wanda first sees blood on the dresser that Y/n was standing in front of. Looking down Y/n is lying on the floor blood begins to stain the grey carpet. 

Lastly looking down at her own hands Wanda notices remnant wisps of red energy circling her hands. She did this. Immediately kneeling over Y/n she pressed her hand against the wound on Y/n’s head trying to stop the bleeding. Tears started to pour from her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” her voice began to crack. “I’m sorry, please. Please don’t go. Don’t leave me. Not yet.” Someone not too far away was calling Wanda but she couldn’t bear to turn around. She just looked down at her blood-stained hands. Whoever is calling her is getting closer, maybe the world is right. Maybe she is something that needs to be contained. 

The person calling her was right behind her now. “Wanda. Wanda?” As she turned around to see who it was she switched spots with Y/n. Except she wasn’t bleeding or on the floor. She was in bed, with Y/n sitting up staring at her concerned. She can feel Y/n resting a hand on her cheek wiping away a few tears. 

“What was it this time?” Compared to the dream Y/n’s tone was softer, warmer, and more comforting. Trying to ground Wanda a little more Y/n began to move her hand from Wanda’s cheek grazing her arm before slipping her hand under Wanda’s shirt drawing shapes into her back with her fingertips. 

Wanda sits up slightly running a hand through her hair. “We were arguing about me being overprotective of you.” Y/n looks down at Wanda’s hands as she begins playing with Y/n’s free hand avoiding any form of eye contact. 

“Is that it? You were crying a lot this time. You don’t have to tell me anything of course. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Wanda bites the inside of her cheek worried what Y/n may think. 

“When we were arguing you flinched probably thinking I was going to hit you. And I lashed out because of that. I lost control of my powers and hurt you.” Wanda’s eyes begin to well up with tears again as she lets go of Y/n’s hand examining her own in slight fear. “I think I killed you.” 

“Hey, look at me.” Y/n tilts Wanda’s head up meeting her eyes before gently grabbing her hands and kissing them a few times. “It was just a nightmare. Nothing else. I know you would never hurt me. You are amazing in so many ways I can’t explain.” 

“You don’t think I’m overprotective?” Y/n cracks a smile, “No. I think you’re protective of me the same way you are with anyone else on our team. Maybe just a little bit more than them if we’re in a really dangerous situation. But I don’t think you’re overprotective. And even if you were I would understand why. You’ve lost a lot of people you care about. I’d never argue with you over something you feel.” 

Wanda lets out a deep breath finally starting to relax. Giving her a quick forehead kiss Y/n smiles, “So, did you want to watch a few episodes of a show or something?” Wanda raises an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t it late?” Y/n shrugs, “A little but I figured you might not want to go back to sleep yet.” 

Wanda cracks a small grin looking at Y/n, “Well I don’t.” Y/n quickly gets out of bed brushing herself off, “Good. You start thinking of a show then while we raid the kitchen pantry.” As Wanda gets out of bed Y/n grabs onto her hand once more and she lets out a small, “I love you.” Y/n replies back in a soft whisper, “I love you too.”

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; blood; murder

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: The end. 4047 words.

1987 The new year

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

Mel nodded. “She will.”

He looked at their creation; it had to be perfect. Eddie wasn’t sure a thing like him was capable of perfection, but for you, he’d try. “Thank you,”

“No problem,” Mel replied, nonchalance in tone but Eddie knew her better than that.

“I mean it, Melissa. You’re a good friend to her. To me.”

Mel squirmed under Eddie’s serious gaze. She blushed, shrugging, and turning to leave.

“Just before you go!” Eddie rushed to say. “I, ah… I heard that you had discovered how Steve Harrington came to haunt you?”

Her head tilted in reply, just a curious small movement that meant to ask how he’d heard about it.

“Hailey mentioned it… Said you’d been working with Ev on…” Eddie paused, unsure what to call it. “Death… craft?”

Mel almost laughed. “Some of us know our magic early. We figure out our abilities. Others… like me… Haven’t entirely grasped the scope of what we can do… I, apparently, channel ghosts… Or something like that,”

“Something like that,” he repeated. “And, the door is open now?”

Steve Harrington’s ghost did a lot of things. One of them was leaving a door between the living and the dead open. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you asked, that particular door existed somewhere within Mel.

Mel considered Eddie’s questions. The painfully earnest and hopeful expression on his face. He looked almost human.

“I don’t know how it works. I can’t control it properly. If that’s what you’re asking for,” she told him.

Eddie nodded and looked down at the wet grass. He kicked at it a little, droplets flicking around. It would dry soon, under their creation. The January cold rendered unaffecting.

“I… I thought you never really had…”

“A family? Anyone who cared about me?” Eddie finished for Mel. She winced at his bitterness. “Sorry… I did not mean for that to come out like that… My mother died having me. She’s who… I thought maybe…”

If any of the other witches had been standing in Mel’s place, they would have been offering already. They would have been consoling or planning or promising. But it wasn’t them. It was Mel. And Mel did what she did best. She listened.

“If she is there… Wherever there is. On the other side. If she’s there and has always been there, I want to make sure she sees this. I need to know she didn’t see what I had become and turn away in shame. I need her to know that…” Eddie’s jaw clenched. He felt raw and exposed. “I want her to know…”

Mel approached Eddie like he was an injured animal. She was intuitive; she knew that was exactly what he was. Slowly, she put her hand on his arm. “We can try. I’ll try.”

…

You frowned at the tiny white petals. How they formed dozens of flowers. And how the flowers grouped together and grew wildly. Yarrow. Yarrow was growing from your bed. Following the stem down to the wooden frame, you found no glue or magic trick. Yarrow was, very literally and quite suddenly, growing from your bed.

“Do you know anything about this?” you asked Eddie when he wandered into the room.

“I thought it was you,”

“Why would it be me?”

He snorted. “Because you are constantly gardening in unorthodox places,”

“I am?”

“You are.”

Eddie loved the surprised and confused expression on your face. Sometimes you knew yourself well. Other times, not at all. He detoured from what he was doing to pull you into a hug.

“Perhaps it is an omen,”

“Not one that I know of,”

“And, of course, you do know all,” he teased.

He loved the faux-annoyed squeaking sound you made. He loved how you melted into him, still eyeing the yarrow suspiciously. God, he loved you.

“Speaking of mysterious,” you said, pushing off him with your palms flat to his chest. “What were you and Mel doing this morning?”

“I accompanied her on her morning walk. You know what happens to her back if she doesn’t go on her muscle tension walks.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and hummed. “Once is happenstance. Two is a coincidence. But three… If one more out of the ordinary thing comes to pass…”

“You’ll what?” Eddie poked, shaking his head at you. It was difficult to hide anything from you, but he could not wait to tell Kelsey about the yarrow. She had been right.

You said nothing, just trust-fell back into his arms. 

“I asked her about what she’s been doing with Ev,” Eddie confessed. He kicked himself for not thinking of the cover sooner. Nothing worked better than the truth.

“The ghost stuff?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about my mother.”

That got your attention. You stepped out of the hug again.

“Don’t look at me like that,”

“Like what?” you asked.

“Like I’m a poor broken bat once more,”

“That’s not what I think of you. You know that,”

“And yet you look wounded on my behalf,” he stated bluntly.

You nodded. “Sorry. I’m sorry… Um… Can she do it? Mel?”

Eddie shrugged. “She doesn’t know. She’ll try.”

You nodded again. “Can I ask… why? Or… maybe… What do you want to ask your mother?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing I can ask of her. I just want her to know that this is it.” Eddie gestured to himself as he spoke.

“You mean you? That this is your… final form, so to speak?”

“Yeah… And it would be… nice… to meet her. And for her to meet you.”

The room was quiet for only a second. Then, “If it doesn’t work with Mel, I can try. We can-”

Eddie silenced you with a kiss. The conversation didn’t need to happen. He knew you’d go to the ends of your magic for him. And nothing about that was taken for granted.

…

The sun was only just rising on the final day of January. It had been a cold winter. Snow had fallen on Hawkins in blankets, not thawing even when the weatherman promised it would. You would not let Hawkins burn anymore, so you cleansed it with water instead.

Eddie had spent the night asleep, curled up in his bat form with you. As the bedroom slowly lit up, you mumbled out the spell and he was back in his body.

“My love,” he whispered, lips cool on your neck. “I sensed your sleep was alive with story,”

“That-” a yawn, “-is a very dramatic way of asking if I dreamt. Almost Shakespearian,”

“You dreamt a dream tonight?”

“Yes, but dreamers often lie,” you recited back.

“In bed asleep, while they do dream things true,”

“Alright. End scene. Besides… I don’t think you want my dream to come true. You were in it and you were not happy,” you told him, wriggling yourself backward to be as spooned into him as possible.

“Do tell.”

It took a moment to catch the sleeping story before it faded into nothingness. Likely, it was inspired by your spell making project; it had begun as a joke, but you were sure you could resize yourself small enough to quite literally ride bat Eddie into the sunset.

“I was a bat too,” you started.

You had been a bat, swooping through pretty pink skies and fluffy white clouds. You’d chased shooting stars and nuzzled together with Eddie high up in Hawkins’ tallest trees. The other bats had kept their distance from you, as they had with Eddie. Then, the largest of the Eptesicus fuscus decided to gift you crunchy beetles and other tasty snacks.

“Wait!” Eddie interjected.

Before he could say anything, you cackled. “That is exactly what you did in the dream! You were very jealous that another bat wanted my attention,”

“What did the other bat want your attention for?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It was a real bat. Not like us. So probably to make bat babies. Don’t worry. I was not into it in the dream. Nor am I in real life.”

Eddie squeezed you tight in his arms, making a small huffing sound.

“Jealous of a make-believe animal,” you snickered.

Eddie’s smile was pressed into the nape of your neck. You felt him drag his teeth along your skin. The rolling want rippled down your body. The scent of jasmine was still strong from their night bloom. You glanced at them on the bedroom windowsill.

“Quiz me?” Eddie asked then, sucking all the sensuality from the moment.

You audibly wined, much to his pleasure. “It’s so early,” you complained, though it wasn’t your greatest grievance.

“It’s never too early to learn the craft,”

“Ugh. Fine. But only because you’re cute.”

Eddie screeched celebratorily, letting you roll out of his arms and turn to face him. He sat up and clapped his hands together.

“Heliotrope oil?” you began.

“To induce premonitions,”

“Correct. Polypody?”

“Nightmares,”

“Buckthorn?”

“Protection,”

“Um… Celandine?”

“That,” Eddie pointed at you, “is a cantrip!” he accused. You raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to greater celandine or lesser celandine?”

You laughed. “Eddie. I don’t know. It wasn’t a trick question. Which is the one with the superstition?”

“Greater,” he told you like it wasn’t funny. “And, so what if it is superstition? Isn’t that what we are?”

A spacey feeling overtook you for a moment. “Woah… déjà vu…” You shook it from your head and looked back at Eddie. “Oh god… You still want to answer the question, don’t you?”

“It can predict death, greater celandine. For someone with a terminal illness,”

“Can it? How does a flower do that?” you teased.

“Place a stem of it on their head. If they cry, they will live. If they begin to sing, they are doomed to death,”

“I wonder what they sing,”

“Another One Bites the Dust presumably,” Eddie answered without skipping a beat.

It was impossible not to laugh; whether it was because the joke was genuinely funny or because of the smug and expecting grin on Eddie’s face, it was hard to tell.

“So dumb!”

“Hey!” Eddie yelped, diving back under the covers and reaching out for you.

Some things needed to be studied to be mastered. You were learning how magic worked around the existence of Eddie. For his part, he was a student of the basics. Beginning with the very foundations of the craft. Other things needed not a guiding grimoire or senior supervision, for those things came easily -

Kisses trailing over the softness of your belly and down. Hands wrapped around Eddie, thumb circling the tip. Bloody bites licked clean and healed without scarring.

Your favourite part of sex was the moments just before Eddie climaxed. Somehow, in his monstrousness, a rumbling sound came from deep within him while he simultaneously made a pathetic whining noise. It was always eerie and beautiful and sexy.

Eddie’s favourite part was the moments just after, the way you came down from the high. A ragdoll body, fucked out and momentarily broken. He’d position you to be comfortable, leave you for a vampire second to get water and something sugary. You’d giggle, dumb, letting him tip the drink into your mouth. Often then, before sanity returned to either of you, you’d look at him with that expression. Do something weird, it would say, that pretty face of yours.

Eddie had forgotten what it felt like to have an alive, human body. He also loved to play the role of the freak. Loved to see how far he could go before you’d feel disgust. Loved you so fully and so intensely, that every part of your existence was a work of art all on its own.

Naturally then, he’d push his tongue up your nose. Use his fanged teeth to clean unidentifiable gunk from under your nails. Bite the tender flesh above your belly button, watch the blood pool, then body-shot it out. Spit in your mouth.

He’d lick you clean of sweat, reporting on the different flavours as he did so (the sweat that rolled down the small of your back was the best). Take strands of hair from your head and thread them through his teeth, pulling at them like dental floss.  Lay his head on your body and listen to the sounds inside; he could tell you when you’d need to use the bathroom before you could even feel it.

Eddie catalogued your body in an effort to see if anything that it made was consumable to a vampire like blood was. Sweat and tears had made the list. Tears tasted salty sweet and none went to waste. He was like a truffle pig, sniffing his way across the plains of your body, searching ferally for that edible high.

You had yet to feel disgust. You doubted you ever would. It all made you feel so very loved so very desired.

Do something weird.

Eddie gripped your face and licked at it like a long-lost St. Bernard reunited with its owner.

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered when he finished cleaning your face. You tasted like the chamomile balm you wore to bed.

“A surprise?” you whispered back.

Eddie nodded. “It’s in the woods,”

“But it’s so cold,” you complained, wriggling down into the heat of the bed.

“You’ll be warm soon. I promise. Let’s go.”

…

“It’s the right day,” Ash said to nobody in particular from her place at the window. She was keeping watch, tasked with sounding the alarm when you returned from the woods with Eddie. “The thirty-first. Three represents creativity and growth and self-expression. One for new beginnings. So, thirty-one is about pursuing your passions and starting a new chapter in your life. And, thirty-one is a manifestation number,”

“You do remember we were all raised by Jo ‘777’ Avery, right?” Hailey quipped. “We know what thirty-one means,”

“So does Eddie. He picked it on purpose,” Mel told them as she finished working on the apotropaic besom that would be placed on your front doorstep.

“Of course he did,” Meg said dreamily.

“Wait!” Kelsey’s eyes were wide. “Jo! Her soul cursed to take the shape of something she wasn’t… Like Eddie. What if-”

“It’s not the same. She did it to herself, remember? You can’t uncurse what went willingly into the hex,” Mel soberly offered.

The witches fell silent. Jo had been older than Sally and Gillian. Maybe even Penelope. She spent half her life in the mortal world, watching painters and sculptors and all the artists come and go. She was less muse and more quiet critic. In February of 1897, she grew ill. Jo called it heartsick. The angel numbers she had always relied on meant nothing anymore. Her life, instead, became guided by an American creative by the name of Ivan Le Lorraine Albright.

Jo watched him grow. Watched him paint. Watch his style linger on the wrong side of the cusp of brilliance. The coven often found her scribbling out spells and practicing rituals none of them recognised. Something was terribly wrong.

Then, one day in 1929, Jo conjured a monster named Ida. She poured herself into Ida. Magic and soul and all. Ivan painted frantically, a new style born, a master of the macabre crowned. As Ida was painted onto the canvas, Jo’s body faded into the abyss. Ida dragged her mother into the ink and they were no more.

The finished piece – Into the World There Came a Soul Called Ida – would be gifted to the Art Institute of Chicago. The coven sometimes visited Jo. Felt her there. Felt the energy behind the sick brushstrokes.

“Jo would have loved this. A witch and a vampire? The unholiness of it all?” Ev noted. She was sitting next to Meg, pulling petals from camellias, pansies, and cyclamens to scatter through your home.  Meg held the bowl.

“We’ve always been like this. Haven’t we?” Ash asked.

“Driven into the shadows by love or madness?”

“No, I mean… Well, yes… But I think that part might just be womanhood. Hiding the unsanitary bits. I mean we as in witches. We have always broken our own rules,” Ash replied.

The coven hushed again. Throughout history, witches had fallen in love with humans and fae and other unblessed creatures. They had broken law and lore. They had crossed lines and made new ones. But somehow, you and Eddie had been punished the hardest. It didn’t make sense to them.

“I miss Jo,” Meg said.

“I miss them all,” Hailey agreed, her paintbrush going still, only ‘congrats’ coloured.

“So do I. But I’m still angry,” Kelsey admitted. “And I want to be better than them,”

“We are. Being here. Bearing witness to this…” Ev assured her.

“Can you imagine how not normal Jo would have been about Eddie’s teeth?” Meg laughed.

The coven giggled, then continued their snappy back-and-forth conversation while they waited. They speculated about guest lists. The humans? Probably. Cyprian the fae and Randy the wolf? Maybe. What remained of the Catskills coven? Unlikely. And what of tradition? Would the rings be passed from guest to guest, filling with love and best wishes? Handfasting?

When they ran out of things to place bets on, they tried to wring details from Mel about her sessions with Eddie and his mother. Though she was not sworn to secrecy, she already felt she was imposing on their privacy by being in the room. It was better when you were there. Eddie was happier and his mother was brighter. Both metaphorically and physically. The other witches were dying to know what happened during those tender and tragic moments, not realising that each of them had formed a personal and unique relationship with Eddie too.

Kels and Eddie felt like old friends, which of course, they were. They were as comfortable as siblings, which meant Eddie often gravitated toward her house when he was bored. When bickering, they’d refer to each other as Edward and Fern. You watched them playfight like puppies left alone.

Ev’s affinity for darkness lent itself to Eddie’s more nefarious side. She was his armorer and revelled in his stories of justice served. Hailey and Eddie had a two-person book club. Meg was teaching him how to cook and bake all of your favourites. And Ash, once she found out Eddie already knew how to sew, roped him into other textile crafts.

Kelsey looked down at the journal in her hands. The story of you and Eddie. She would write it all down. The lonely vampire. The little witch. The grief and betrayal. The bed of yarrow. The love, the love, oh, the love. Maybe, one day, you’d be gifted the book. Maybe not. Kelsey wasn’t sure how it all ended just yet. As she sat with her sisters, preparing for a party, she was only sure that you were all exactly where you were meant to be.

…

The January sunrise filtered through the flatlands. Rainbows refracted off snowflakes. The tips of your boots were already soaking through and it almost hurt to breathe. About halfway to the woods, Eddie had become a makeshift blindfold, hands covering your eyes, swearing that braving the cold would be worth it.

“Is this what you and Mel have been up to? Did you make a new gate or something?”

“You’ll see,” was all he’d say.

Are we going to breakfast with the foxes? That’d be nice.

Is there another bat that needs saving out here?

If you want to build a tree house, Kels is really who you should be waking up.

Did you find another mushroom circle and need me to identify if it’s fae or not?

You’ll see. You’ll see. You’ll see.

Then, you did.

“Okay… Open!”

Eddie’s hands left your face.

There, a structure. Not really a building. Something else. A dome. As tall as a house with a matching circumference.

“What…”

A dome that appeared to be solid. It had an opaque, matte coating. The harder you looked at it, the less you could tell if the trees were growing through it or if they’d been cut to shape. The dome shimmered, like a reflection on water. Like it wasn’t made to be looked at. Like it was offended at the mere thought of being looked at.

You took tentative steps towards it. Slowly, carefully, you reached out to touch the dome. It was hard. Real. And… warm?

Turning back to Eddie, he was watching you carefully.

“You win. I have no idea what this is,” you admitted.

With his best strut, Eddie walked by and knocked on the dome three times. A slit in the surface appeared. A door, ajar.

“After you,” Eddie invited.

You let the heat emanating from the dome pull you inside.

It was bright; you had no trouble seeing, but your brain was still struggling to process the information your senses were providing.

The shape of the dome had completely disappeared. You would have not known you were inside at all, if it weren’t for the snow and leaves falling, hitting something invisible above and around you, then sliding around it. Touching the wall, it still felt solid and hard, even if you couldn’t see it.

“It’s like… like a reverse snow globe…” you marvelled.

The air inside was warm and still, cut off from whatever was happening in the world. The dome muffled the sounds outside too. It wasn’t silent, but the whistling wind was muted into comforting white noise.

Eddie had followed you inside, clicking the door that could only be opened and closed by him into place. The magic in the spell was linked to Eddie. That meant it wouldn’t last forever, Mel had warned him. It would serve a purpose, then fade away.

Eddie didn’t need the dome forever, only a moment. You were his forever. If all went well.

You’d started to rub your hands over the warm grass and dry bark of the trees. They hadn’t been touched by the snow in days, you figured. They’d shaken winter off in the greenhouse environment.

Eddie had to say your name three times to pull your attention to him. He folded himself down onto the ground next to you.

“This is beautiful… This is what you and Mel were doing out here?” you asked, too in awe of the dome to see the beautiful determination on Eddie’s face.

He nodded, reaching out to catch your chin in his hand, gently redirecting your gaze to him. “My little witch…”

Your joy gave way to curiosity. Whatever he was doing, he’d not done it before.

“My love… I am the last of my kind at what feels like the beginning of my life; an endling, with no right to start something. But I defy that. Like I have defied… everything my life and death dared offer. Until you.”

There was something in his tone that had an immediate effect on you. Your nose tingled and your eyes stung. Eddie’s choice of words dipped back into the sixteenth century when he was most serious. He lost the carefree cadence of the 1980s.

“I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I love you more every single time I see you. Blood of my blood. Body of my body. Soul of my soul.”

The gravity of the moment got caught in your throat. It was with dizzying clarity you reached out for Eddie, for stability. He took your hands and tangled his fingers between yours.

“I was born for nothing but this, but I would live it all again if it brought me to you. The agony of life and the loneliness of death. The void of a hex. I would do it all again and again if it kept me on a pathway to you.”

You were cemented still in the darkness of his eyes. Jaw clenched, breath still, mouth dry. Something smelt of yarrow and apple, though you were not of the mindset to find the source. More than likely, there wasn’t one at all.

“My little witch, all that I have is yours. All that I am, I give freely. Would you seal my fate and bless me with your hand in marriage?”

End note: 92,965 words and we have come to the end of our story. I have been writing this for over a year and have poured so, so much time, love, energy, and commitment into it. So much of my soul is in these pages.

Whatever you came for - entertainment, escapism, Eddie, witchcraft, company, love - I hope you found in Burning Yarrow.

I would deeply appreciate to hear from you. Even if you can't quantify or consolidate your feelings into words, just a little note to let me know that this project has meant something to someone other than me.

Finally, thank you to the real life Kelsey/Kelso @toomanyacorns and real life Mel @kookygranger for the historical knowledge and witchy inspiration. And to all the other women who snuck their way into this world. I love you all!

Until next story... xo Rhi

P.S. The Grimoire and timeline Tumblr posts are complete.

P.P.S. Thank you to the following freaks for helping me think of weird shit for Eddie to do in chapter 31: @jo-harrington @myosotisa @bettyfrommars @mopeymopeymouse @munson-blurbs

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All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

[svltzmans]

bet - h.m.

hope mikaelson x fem! reader

warnings: smut 18+! wrote most of this late at night (sorry if there are nonsense sentences) reader and hope drink a teeny bit (but are both of legal drinking age) <3

"truth or dare?"

hope erupts into laughter. she's sure y/n wasn't actually asking her to play a sleepover game invented by twelve year olds.

then again, y/n had suggested crazier things after a drink or two.

playing a party game on the floor of hope's bedroom was tame.

"i'm serious," y/n insists, before inadvertently starting to giggle alongside hope. "which one?"

"truth, i guess, i don't trust you to give me a dare," hope had to get on y/n's nerves a bit, considering she was the reason they were playing this immature game in the first place.

y/n feigns offense, bringing her hand to her chest in exaggerated shock. "you don't trust me?"

"not with this. now, what do you wanna hear the truth about?" hope quips, taking a sip of her beverage.

"how can i make this as scandalous as possible?"

"so i can't trust you with truths either?"

y/n can't help but laugh at hope once again, and before they know it, they're both laughing until they're out of breath.

"so, have you ever faked an orgasm?"

hope practically chokes on air, taken aback by the forward nature of y/n's question.

y/n continues to laugh. "sorry, too forward?"

"i mean, it's truth or dare. might as well make it interesting. yeah, i have."

"no way." y/n stares at hope with a doubtful look in her face.

"i honestly don't think i've ever... not faked one."

"what? you've never...?"

"i mean, i have by myself. never with anyone else."

y/n couldn't believe the conversation she was having with hope. they had always been close, but not quite this close.

hope hides her face behind her hands. "don't look at me like that!"

"that's just... pathetic," y/n laughs before finishing her sentence. "people still can't make a girl cum."

hope's breath hitches at the vulgarity of the conversation. she'd be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying the tension.

"well, they otherwise were winners i suppose."

hope's attempt to defend her taste in partners fails miserably, with y/n stifling a laugh.

"what, like you could do better?" hope interjects smugly, crossing her arms dramatically across her chest.

"i bet i could."

hope is sure y/n is joking. they had shared many laughs throughout the night.

but y/n is looking at her in a way that tells her she's dead serious.

and before she knows it, she's leaning into y/n, pulling her lips into her own.

y/n is swift at lifting hope off the floor and into her lap, hands firm on her thighs.

hope's hips inadvertently rock back and forth, gasps escaping under her breath.

y/n flips them over, hovering over hope laying on her back.

"strip," she mutters, with a sudden confidence.

hope is quick to oblige, shuffling out of her outfit in record time.

"you're perfect," y/n lowly mumbles. "spread your legs."

hope almost whines at her command before following it.

y/n rests her head between hope's legs, lightly kissing her thighs.

hope had never experienced so much care in this type of situation - or been so filled with need.

"my god y/n just hurry up- oh,"

hope's complaint is interrupted by y/n's tongue on her aching clit, her hands pushing her thighs further apart.

she whines when y/n pulls away, a smirk plastered on her face.

"already fucking you better than the others, huh?" she taunts, inches away from hope's pussy.

hope pulls her back in by the hair. "keep doing that. we have a goal here, don't we?"

"touché," y/n mutters before sucking hope's clit into her mouth.

"fuck, y/n. just like that."

motivated by hope's praise, y/n is unrelenting. she didn't intend to go easy on her.

"you're so good at that," hope mewls, running her fingers through y/n's hair.

hope presses her legs together, the sight of y/n between them making her moan.

she rocks her hips back and forth, letting y/n's tongue roll over her in a way that nearly sends her over the edge.

"i'm, i'm close, so close," she manages to growl, her back arching into y/n. "please don't stop, you're gonna make me cum."

hope is blabbering the words out, her brain only able to focus on the feeling.

y/n makes eye contact with hope, looking deeply at her with an expression of pure desire, throwing her over the edge.

hope lets out a raspy moan, her vision briefly going black. she swears she's on another planet by the time her body finally relaxes.

y/n smirks up at hope. "i won the bet."

"that you did," she responds, still out of breath.

[why4anne]

Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 1/?

Word Count: 3k

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Masterlist

The smell of the sea reached your nostrils as you strolled along the harbor of Monaco. You couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight and couldn’t believe your luck that you got to move to a place like this. You’d just gotten accepted to the university of Monaco and moved into your little apartment right outside the beautiful country mere hours ago. The yachts that decorated the water were like out of a dream and you felt yourself daydream about owning one sometime in the distant future.

The hours went by and you decided that you would walk back to your apartment before it got too dark. You took your phone out of your purse only to find it dead. 

“Damn it!” You swore as you shoved your phone back in your bag. How were you supposed to find your apartment now? You had forgotten the address and your plan of just opening the pinned location on google maps won’t work now. 

‘How hard can it be?’ You thought to yourself as you decided to try and find your way home based on memory. The streets of Monaco were hard to navigate and you found yourself completely lost. You took a left turn, hoping for the best. You walked quietly along the street when you heard a man raise his voice followed by what sounded like more men arguing. 

You tried to make yourself ready to run in case the men were a threat. You decided  that continuing to walk to get yourself away from the situation was the best choice. The fact that your phone was dead weighed heavily on your mind. If the men were to attack you’d have no way of alerting anyone. 

The voices got louder as you walked and when you turned the corner you saw four men arguing. It looked like it was serious based on their tense stances, ready to fight. 

“Fuck you Leclerc. You think you’re so fucking powerful just because you inherited the biggest mob of Monaco and France from daddy huh? Well guess what? Daddy isn’t here anymore” The first man said as he and his friends cornered this “Leclerc” guy. You resisted the urge to gasp, not wanting to make a sound. This was the mafia. If anyone knew you were here you’d be in big trouble.

“You think I’m scared of you Bassett? I have more money and resources then you could ever dream of. And not to mention balls. Cornering me with two other men as I leave the casino is not what I would consider brave” The second man spoke arrogantly even if it was clear that he was at a disadvantage seeing as they were three against one. 

“I don’t need balls to do this.” You wondered what he ment but your questions were soon answered as you heard the click of a gun.

“You’re a fucking pussy you know that right?” Leclerc spoke, still calm as ever. “You owe me millions and instead of paying me back you’re going to shoot me? You know, it sounds to me as if you’re not as rich as you claim to be Mr. Bassett."  You didn't have the time to process his words before four gunshots were heard and three bodies fell to the ground. 

You yelped, you didn’t mean to but you couldn’t help it, the gunshots took you by surprise.

“Who’s there?” The man, Leclerc, was still standing above the three corpses and he was looking right into your eyes. His intense stare sent shivers up your spine. He started to walk towards you with determined steps.

‘So this is how I die?’ You think to yourself as he approaches you. You close your eyes, ready to feel the pain of a bullet but before you feel anything you hear the man collapse. You open your eyes and look at him, he’s on one knee, branching himself against the wall to stay upright. As you look closely you see a pool of red blood form on his white button up shirt. You watch in horror as it grows, a bullet must’ve hit him. Despite how afraid of this man you were you couldn’t let him die here.

“Are you okay sir? You asked quietly as you slowly approached him. The only response you got was a groan. You knelt beside him and took off your cardigan and pressed it to the wound. 

“Okay I think you need to lay down on your back.” You told him as you felt him become unstable. He did as you told him to and groaned when he had to move but didn’t complain. You reached for your phone to call an ambulance but remembered that it didn’t have any charge left.  “Do you have a phone? I need to call the ambulance” You asked the brunette in front of you. 

“Front left pocket.” He grumbled and you reached into his pocket. You quickly called the ambulance who told you that they were on their way and told you to keep him conscious and to keep pressure on the wound.

“So I have to keep you awake.” You started talking with him, deciding that it was the best way to keep him from blacking out. “Um… I’m Y/N.” You said, not having any idea of what to talk about.

“Charles” He said in a raspy voice.

‘Damn he’s kinda hot’ you thought as you got a closer look of him, his piercing green eyes looking into yours made your mind all fuzzy. ‘Fuck, Y/N concentrate’ you snapped out of your trance to focus on the task at hand.

“Um… so you want to tell me what just happened?” You ask him to try and get him to continue talking. It was probably a stupid question because if he was really in the mafia he wouldn’t tell you, a random girl, about it.

But it seemed as if bleeding out loosened his lips because he told you everything. How the leader of another mod owed him millions of euros and refused to pay him back. Instead cornered him after a night out.

Charles winced in pain as he continued to speak, his voice strained but determined. "You see, Y/N, this city might look like a paradise on the surface, but beneath it all, there's a constant power struggle. My family has been deeply involved in this world for generations, and sometimes, conflicts like these are inevitable."

You listened intently, both to his words and to the distant sound of approaching sirens. Time was of the essence, and you had to keep him conscious until help arrived.

Charles took shallow breaths, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a brave one, you know that? Most people would have run away screaming. But you stayed and helped me. Why?"

You shrugged, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through you. "I couldn't just leave you here," you replied, pressing the cardigan against his wound a little firmer. "We're all human, right?" You tried to lighten the mood by sending him a reassuring smile.

He nodded in agreement, wincing at the pain. "You have a kind heart, Y/N. I've seen too much darkness in this world."

“Try not to move” You put your free hand on his forehead and gently laid his head back onto the ground.  

As you continued to apply pressure to his wound, Charles delved deeper into the complexities of his life. He talked about the struggles of maintaining power in a world where alliances were fragile, trust was scarce, and violence was always lurking in the shadows.

Sirens grew closer, their wailing an urgent reminder of the impending arrival of help. You could hear the paramedics getting closer.

Charles managed a faint smile, his green eyes softer now. "You, Y/N, might have just saved my life. And that's no small feat in this world. I owe you a debt of gratitude."

You chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I hope you recover quickly. And maybe consider... finding a less dangerous line of work?"

Charles chuckled, though it quickly turned into a cough, and he winced. "I wish it were that simple, Y/N. But in my world, things are never straightforward."

As the paramedics arrived and took over, you stepped back to give them space, watching as they worked swiftly to stabilize Charles. He was whisked away on a stretcher, disappearing into the back of the ambulance.

One of the paramedics approached you, asking for your account of what happened. You recounted the events as best as you could, leaving out the more sensitive details about Charles's life. You didn't want to be involved any more deeply than you already were.

After the ambulance sped away, you were left standing there, alone on the dimly lit street. The adrenaline began to fade, and the reality of your situation hit you. You were still lost in an unfamiliar city, and now, you had a surreal encounter with the local mafia to add to your list of experiences.

With a sigh, you decided to try and find your way back to your apartment once more, this time determined to ask for directions if needed. You couldn't help but replay the events in your mind as you walked. Monaco had revealed a darker side to itself, one you never expected when you first arrived in this glamorous city.

Little did you know that your chance encounter with Charles Leclerc would set in motion a series of events that would entangle you further in the secrets and intrigues of Monaco, a world far removed from the idyllic facade it presented to the world.

Two months later you find yourself getting ready for a charity event for the university. From your understanding, some very influential business owner was hosting this gala in order to bring more funding to the school. You, alongside 24 other students, had been selected to attend this event. 

‘I really hate to mingle.’ You think as you exit the cab in your floor length blue dress. 

The night air was cool and carried a salty tang as you stepped out of the cab, the lights of the venue beckoning you. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the mingling and socializing you were about to endure. It wasn't your favorite activity, but you knew it was necessary, an invaluable opportunity to network with some of Monaco’s elite.

As you entered the venue, the opulence of the event struck you. The ceilings were adorned with crystal chandeliers, the walls draped in luxurious fabrics, and there was an air of sophistication that seemed to hang in the atmosphere. It was clear that this was a gathering of the wealthy and influential.

You began to navigate the room, attempting to strike up conversations with various attendees. Many were donors or businesspeople, keen on discussing their ventures and achievements. While you were polite and engaged in the discussions, your mind kept drifting back to that fateful night with Charles and the encounter with the mafia.

It was a blurry line between the glamorous facade of Monaco's elite and the hidden, dangerous world that lurked in its shadows. You wondered how many of these seemingly respectable individuals were involved in the kind of underworld you had witnessed that night.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, a familiar voice broke through. "Hello beautiful”

Startled, you turned to see none other than Charles Leclerc standing before you, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. He offered you a polite smile, his earlier wounds seemingly healed, at least physically. The surprise of seeing him here, at this event, momentarily left you speechless.

"Hi," you managed to reply despite your initial shock, a little flustered as you offered him a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here," you spoke, attempting to break the ice.

"I would say the same about you but then I’d be lying" Charles remarked, his eyes probing yet gentle. "I hosted this event to find you. You've been on my mind since that night."

“You’re the host?” You exclaimed, eyes wide at this knowledge. “Why?”

“As I said. You’ve been on my mind every day for the last two months.” He admitted, his gaze was intense as he searched your eyes for a reaction.

“How did you know where I go to school? All you knew was my first name” You questioned him.

“I have my ways” He said nonchalantly.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—surprise, curiosity, and a lingering unease. Charles Leclerc, the enigmatic figure you had encountered that fateful night, had hosted this prestigious event specifically to find you. It was a revelation that left you both intrigued and cautious.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you again after that night," you confessed, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. "And hosting this event to find me? That's quite... unusual."

Charles chuckled softly, his charm as captivating as ever. "Unusual, perhaps, but when something captures my attention, I tend to pursue it relentlessly. And you, Y/N, have captured my attention in a way I can't quite explain."

You weren't sure how to respond to his admission. It felt like there were layers to Charles Leclerc that you had yet to uncover, and being in this elegant setting with him only added to the intrigue. Despite the initial danger and the circumstances of your first meeting, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you.

"So, what do you want from me, Charles?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You couldn't help but feel that there was more to this encounter than met the eye.

Charles leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper amidst the chatter of the gala. "I want to get to know you, Y/N. Beyond the chaos of that night and the secrets we both carry. I want to understand the woman who stayed by my side when others would have fled. And," he added with a wry smile, "I'd like you to consider giving me a chance to show you a different side of me, one that doesn't always dwell in the shadows."

His words hung in the air, laden with both mystery and sincerity. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on you, nor could you ignore the curiosity that had driven you to seek answers about the darker side of this city.

"I'll admit, Charles, you've managed to pique my curiosity," you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not one to rush into things, especially when the circumstances are so… chaotic."

Charles nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I understand. Take your time. Just know that I'm not one to give up easily when I want something."

“I figured” You can’t help but chuckle. “I mean you hosted this event just to talk to me”

“Oh darling, you haven’t seen half of the things I can do if I put my mind to something” His voice was playful but you had a feeling that he was in fact not joking.

You found yourself both intrigued and cautious about the enigmatic man before you. Charles Leclerc's world was undoubtedly complex and filled with danger, yet there was an undeniable allure in his presence. The mingling crowd and the opulent setting seemed to fade into the background as the two of you continued your conversation.

As the night wore on, Charles shared more about his life, the intricacies of the power struggles in Monaco, and the delicate balance he had to maintain within the world he inhabited. He spoke of his family's history and the responsibilities that came with their name, all while maintaining an air of charm and charisma that was impossible to resist.

You, in turn, shared your own story, your dreams and aspirations, and the reasons you had come to Monaco in the first place. The more you talked, the more you realized how different your worlds were, yet there was an undeniable connection between you, a spark that refused to be extinguished.

As the gala continued, you couldn't help but wonder if this chance encounter with Charles was meant to be more than just a twist of fate. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and despite the chaos and danger that had initially brought you together, you felt a growing curiosity about the man who had hosted this event just to find you.

The evening came to a close, and Charles walked you to your cab, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. "I hope you consider my offer, Y/N," he said as he opened the cab door for you. "I promise you, there's much more to discover about both Monaco and me."

You nodded, still cautious but undeniably intrigued. "I'll keep that in mind, Charles. But for now, I have a lot to process."

Charles leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Take your time," he whispered before placing a gentle, lingering kiss on your cheek. "Until we meet again."

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the night, you couldn't help but wonder if your path had just taken an unexpected turn into a world of secrets, intrigue, and a love story unlike any other. Monaco had revealed its hidden depths, and you were about to dive headfirst into the depths of the unknown, with Charles Leclerc as your guide.

The cab pulled away, leaving the gala behind, but the memory of that night lingered in your mind. You knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but you couldn't deny the thrill of the journey that lay ahead.

As the city of Monaco glimmered in the distance, you couldn't help but feel that your life had just taken a thrilling and dangerous turn, and you were ready to embrace the adventure, no matter where it might lead.

[brookghaib-blog]

Whispers of the past pt.13

Pairing: Hoshina Sohiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshino Soshiro.

pt.12

Y/N's pov:

The cool night air rustled my hair as I stood on the rooftop, the city sprawling beneath me like a glittering sea. I held my phone to my ear, waiting for Narumi to pick up. The mission had been weighing heavily on my mind, and I needed to share the details with him.

"Hey," Narumi's familiar voice crackled through the speaker. "How's it going?"

I took a deep breath. "Narumi, I've been following up on the mission you assigned me. Trying to find another human-kaiju is proving to be more difficult than we thought."

There was a pause on the other end. "What have you found so far?"

"Not much," I admitted, frustration seeping into my voice. "Whoever this kaiju is, they’re very good at staying hidden. I can’t detect them when they're in human form, just like I can’t be detected. But I’ve been keeping an eye on the new recruits."

"Anyone stand out?" Narumi asked, his tone serious.

"Yeah, actually," I replied, leaning against the railing. "There's this guy, Kafka Hibino. He’s an odd choice for the Defense Force. He's incredibly slow and seems to have no power at all. I can’t figure out why he was recruited."

Narumi sighed. "Keep an eye on him. Sometimes the least obvious suspects can be the most dangerous."

"Will do," I said, jotting down a mental note to watch Kafka more closely. "I'll keep you updated on any developments."

Narumi's voice softened slightly. "How was it facing Soshiro?"

I hesitated, the memory of our confrontation still raw. "It was...normal. He tried to talk to me, but I kept him at arm’s length. I plan to keep it that way."

"I’m sorry you have to go through this," Narumi said. "If you need to get out of the Third Division or if things get too hard, just let me know. I'll make sure you’re reassigned."

I felt a surge of gratitude. "Thank you, Narumi. I appreciate it. But I want to see this through. I need to prove to myself that I can do this."

"I know you can," Narumi said confidently. "Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to support you."

I smiled, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Narumi," I said, my voice hesitant, "do you have any updates on Mr. Orochi's murder?"

There was a pause on the other end before he replied. "Nothing concrete yet. No cameras caught anything, and no weapon has been identified. It's like he just vanished and then reappeared dead."

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling inside me. "How can that be? There must be something."

"I know," Narumi sighed. "We've interviewed some of the workers from the bar, but nobody knows anything beyond his odd behavior toward the end. It’s like he wasn’t the same person."

"His odd behavior," I echoed, thinking back to our last conversation. "He was acting strange that day. Almost like…like he wasn’t human."

Narumi's voice softened. "I promise you, Y/N, we’ll find out who did this. But it’s a complex case. We have so little to go on."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. "I know you’re doing everything you can. It’s just hard to accept."

"I understand," he said gently. "Mr. Orochi was important to you. But we have to be patient. These things take time."

"Yeah," I murmured, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. "I just…I want justice for him."

"And we’ll get it," Narumi assured me. "In the meantime, focus on your mission. Keep me updated on Kafka and any other leads you find."

"Will do," I said, my voice firmer. "Thanks, Narumi."

We ended the call, and I slipped my phone into my pocket, the unresolved questions about Mr. Orochi’s death swirling in my mind. As I looked out over the city, I made a silent vow to uncover the truth, no matter how long it took.

The following morning, I threw myself into my work with renewed determination. Training with the Third Division was rigorous, but it kept my mind occupied. I kept a close watch on Kafka, my suspicion growing with each passing day. His behavior, though seemingly harmless, was too ordinary—too calculated.

After an intense training session, I retreated to the rooftop once again. The solitude offered a chance to clear my mind. I dialed Narumi’s number, needing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit more upbeat. "How’s it going?"

"Slow progress," I admitted. "But I’m not giving up. Kafka’s still the most strange out there, although, there are some pretty interesting suspects, they are very strong for beginners, but nothing that indicates that the strenght comes from a kaiju.."

"Keep at it, you're doing great" Narumi encouraged.

"Thanks," I said, appreciating his support more than he knew. "Narumi, do you think there could be others like me out there? Humans who’ve been turned into kaiju?"

There was a thoughtful pause before he replied. "It's possible. If it happened to you, it could happen to others. We need to be vigilant."

I nodded, feeling a sense of purpose. "I’ll keep that in mind."

--

Sitting in my assigned room, I stared blankly at the wall, the weight of Soshiro’s words pressing heavily on my mind. His suggestion that Narumi and I had something between us was absurd, yet it gnawed at my thoughts. How could he have seen us kissing? I had no recollection of such a thing ever happening. The confusion was overwhelming.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Narumi’s number, my heart pounding in my chest. It was late, but I needed answers.

"Hey, Y/N," Narumi answered, his voice surprisingly alert for the hour. "Everything okay?"

"Narumi, I’m sorry for calling so late, but I need to talk to you about something," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

"Sure, what’s up?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.

"I had a conversation with Soshiro when I went to ask him questions about the Kaiju" I began, taking a deep breath. "He got a little of track and he suggested that you and I have some sort of relationship. He even said he saw us kissing at the bar where I worked."

Narumi was silent for a moment, clearly processing what I had just told him. "I never spoke to Soshiro about any relationship," he finally said, confusion lacing his words. "Why would he think that?"

"I don’t know," I admitted, feeling a sense of frustration. "But he was so convinced. He said he saw us kissing. Do you remember saying anything that may habe been misunderstood?"

Narumi hesitated, a sigh escaping his lips. "There was one night," he began slowly, "after one of your performances. You got blackout drunk and…you kissed me."

I felt my heart stop. "What?" I whispered, mortified. "I…Narumi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I basically assaulted you."

"Hey, it’s okay," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You were drunk, and it wasn’t like that. You didn’t know what you were doing."

My face burned with embarrassment, and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. "I’m so sorry," I repeated, feeling utterly humiliated.

Out of nowhere, Narumi’s tone shifted. "You know Y/N, you can do whatever you want with me," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "I’ll let you."

I blinked, completely taken aback. "What?" I stammered, my cheeks burning.

"With Soshiro out of the picture," Narumi continued, his voice dripping with a mix of seduction and playfulness, "I can show you what a real man feels like. Can you do me a favor?"

"Um, sure," I said, still trying to process the sudden change in his demeanor. "What do you need?"

"Say my name," he requested, his voice dropping to a deeper, almost husky tone.

"Narumi?" I replied, unsure of where this was going.

"No, Y/N," he corrected gently. "Come on, say my name."

Realization dawned on me, and my heart raced faster. "Gen?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

On the other end of the line, I heard Narumi almost moan. "Yes," he breathed, his voice sounding deeper and more intimate. "You make me so happy."

I felt a rush of heat flood my face, completely speechless. Before I could respond, Narumi added, "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice filled with concern. "You sound…weird."

"I’m more than okay," Narumi assured me. "You just made my night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Y/N."

With that, he hung up, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, and something else I couldn’t quite identify.

I sat there for a long time, replaying the conversation in my head. What just happened?

[rachetmath]

Jaune the Strategist

Jaune: Um… General Ironwood? I have a question.

Ironwood: What is it Mr. Arc?

Jaune: Why not release the video footage of Tyrian killing a bunch of people?

Clover: Are you crazy? If we release such a video it cause panic in Mantle.

Jaune: I hear you. But... isn’t the Atlas military already being framed for countless murders?

Ironwood: Yes.

Jaune: And no one in Mantle is willing to follow protocol because they don’t trust us right?

Ironwood: Well... yes.

Jaune: Okay. So why not use this to our advantage?

Ruby: Explain.

Jaune: I mean come on. Seriously? We have proof. We have video display. And if this has been happening for a while then we have dead bodies that can hold our case.

Ironwood: Mr. Arc, I’m going to need you to further elaboration.

Jaune: What’s there to- Look, Tyrian has been killing people for a while, right?

Qrow: Yeah.

Jaune: We have video proof that he committed the massacre at Robin’s party. We could just report this and clear Penny’s name.

Ironwood: That is true.

Jaune: Plus with the few bodies Tyrian left behind, which I’m hoping your Atlas soldiers investigated completely. Like the time and location of death. As well as how they died. Basically if Tyrian left multiple victims, can’t we compare them to the other corpses from the party.

Ironwood: Huh.

Jaune: Not only that but Tyrian has a poisonous tail. Didn’t some of them have a hint poison consumed or at least small pick to their bodies.

Ironwood: Oh. That is something to consider.

Clover: Okay, but still doesn’t change the fact if we tell the people a killer is on the loose it will cause panic.

Jaune: True. But it could also make people listen. Think about it, they’re already being invaded by grimm everyday. And now they have killer amongest them. Wouldn’t that force them to reconsider they’re options?

Clover: … My… My Oum he could right.

Marrow: Okay but what about Robyn?

Jaune: Mantle’s Champion? Happy Huntresses? Are you serious? Do you honestly think she would not make a killer her top priority?

Marrow: Huh.

Jaune: I’m just saying, why are we keeping this under raps and quickly turning to Martial law?

Ironwood: Wow… anything else Mr.Arc

Jaune: Why frame Penny?

Ruby: She’s the Protector of Mantle.

Jaune: She also a robot. With a human soul. Who recorded everything! Who so far never got hacked? So why her specifically? If anything I would have got Penny out the way and framed one of the Ace-ops. Specifically Marrow. Hell why not frame Robyn herself?

Marrow: Whoa why me?

Jaune: You know why.

Blake: But tell us why.

Ironwood: Damn he’s right. That absolutely makes sense considering he’s a Faunus and recent member of the Ace ops.

Jaune: Exactly.

Blake: Are you two serious?!

Jaune: Blake think about how much conflict that would cause. A faunus in the Atlas military. An Ace operative killed and injured a bunch of innocent people. Humans and faunuses mind you. Not only would that cause division amongest the people of Mantle but the school and the soldiers.

Ironwood: He’s right. We have faunases who attend this school and are apart our units.

Jaune: It’ll be chaos. Racism and Hatred in the air. And with that much negativity the grimm attacks would be sky rocketing to the masses. Screw trying to get Amity Arena up we might as well have focused our time on containment. Hell that would been a better reason to initiate Martial law. Something I think Robyn would agree to. Considering Fiona is a faunus and her teammate.

Ironwood: So basically framing Penny was-

Jaune: A stupid idea? ABSO-FREAKEN-LUTLY!! Who ever made this plan had to be dumb as bricks.

Watts: *sneezes*

Jaune: I’m mean now I might as well ask this question. Has anyone ever disagreed with Penny’s creation?

Ironwood: I mean-… ... actually... yes we had a few people who disagreed.

Jaune: Also if you have a file for Tyrian, then what about Cinder, Emerald, Mercury or Hazel?

Ironwood: Why yes we---- Hold up. You all saw Hazel?

Jaune: Yeah.

Ironwood: And you survived?

Nora: Yes. Though with our tails between our legs. How do you know him?

Ironwood: How do you think I lost half of my body?

Jaune: Damn. And I thought Ren and Qrow had it worse. How powerful is he?

Ironwood: He crippled Ozpin.

Oscar: (And he said he stood a chance. He could’ve killed us both.)

Jaune: (We’ll most definitely need to jump him.) An-anyways, back on topic. So, who out all the other people were against the Penny project? Simply put who hates Pietro the most?

Ironwood: Well… there was Professor Watts.

Jaune: Professor Watts?

Ironwood: He was an inventor as well. He was even to soul creator of the Atlas robots you’re associated with. However he died in accident.

Jaune: How long ago?

Ironwood: Months ago?

Jaune: Okay now that’s weird.

Weiss: So what Jaune? He died.

Winter: Yes but I understand why Mr.Arc is suspicious. In Cinder’s file, after committing four first degree murders she disappeared.

Jaune: Then she suddenly appears back at Beacon with a way to hack the military.

Clover: Tyrian was captured but then escaped and he disappeared as well.

Qrow: Then he came out nowhere and tried to capture Ruby.

Ironwood: Hazel disappeared once too.

Oscar: And then I saw him on my way to Mistral.

Jaune: Is any of this making sense?

Ironwood: Yes. Clover I need you to follow up on some the victims of the previous crimes. And Winter I need you look into Watt’s case. Lets make sure he’s dead. If not we need evidence.

Winter: Yes sir.

Ironwood: Well, Mr. Arc it seem I underestimated your intelligence. I will not call in Martial law.

Jaune: No-no. Keep it in mind.

Nora: SAY WHAT?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE TRYING TO AVOID IT!!

Jaune: I am. But Robyn could still cause trouble for us down the road. We need to be ready when she could take things too far.

Nora: But-

Ironwood: It’s only if she continues to be an obstacle.

Nora: *silent*

Ironwood: Alright. Everyone back to work. Keep an eye out for Tyrian. And if you learn anything you report to me immediately.

Ace-ops: Yes sir.

Ren: Yes sir.

*JNPR Dorm Room*

Nora: Jaune, I can’t believe you sided with Ironwood.

Ren: Nora, it is a constitutions plan. It’s not going to happen.

Nora: I’m just saying the people of Mantle are already having a hard time.

Ren: I understand but-

Nora: But what? That getting Amity Arena up is more important than helping the people.

Ren: What about the world? What about all of Remnant?

Nora: How can help the world if we can’t help a country?!

Ren: We can’t always focus on the small things Nora. We need to consider the bigger picture.

Nora: So after all we’ve been through before you want to throw that away?

Ren That not what I’m saying. I-

Jaune: ENOUGH!!

Jaune: Please. Stop arguing.

Ren: Jaune, look I want to say-

Jaune: Stop. Sit. Both of you.

Nara and Ren: *sit separately from each other*

Jaune: Look, Nora, I understand. I know Mantle going through hard times. Due to the trading routes and transportation being limited, people are starting to struggle to get in and out of city. Stores and companies are closed so people are having trouble finding work. And without work, they can’t make money. And without money they can’t pay rent nor provide for their families. Basically majority of those people might as well not have homes soon.

Nora: Then you know why Martial law can’t happen. It will make things worse.

Jaune: Yes. That is why I would rather keep it as a last resort. However, with Mantle’s lack of funding and resources, I almost can’t blame Robyn for what’s she’s doing. However, two wrongs don’t make a right.

Nora: Hmm.

Ren: Well said Jaune.

Jaune: And you. Don’t think I’m openly siding with Ironwood. I only did that because I need everyone on the same page.

Ren: Jaune.

Jaune: At Beacon, Amber, Ozpin and Pyrrha died. Then the world got divide. Mistral, we almost died.

Nora: We survived.

Jaune: Through the skin of our teeth Nora! We got lucky! And Hazel, Emerald and Mercury stilled escaped!

Nora: *hates when he’s right*

Jaune: Now Tyrian is here. And even if my theory on Watts is correct, we still don’t know what they’re up to. Not to mention, we’re keeping secrets too. Especially, about Salem., who may have sent them here to retrieve the lamp. And worse, kill Oscar.

Nora and Ren: … … …

Jaune: Look… … Basically what I’m saying we need to be careful. We are no longer students. We are hunters. Every move we make could jeopardize what we are trying to accomplish. Even the people we trust could be a problem if we’re not careful.

Nora: So you don’t trust Ruby?

Jaune: Yeah. But keeping these secrets could get us in trouble, or most likely, have a gun to our heads. And Ironwood has plenty of them compared to us.

Ren: So what should we do?

Jaune: We do what we started this journey for. We search for answers.

[sapphic-coded]

I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Series Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Lots of violence against wood. Reader is a messed up assassin and is proud of her work. So much childhood trauma just hanging out in the background. Reader dresses up like a lumberjack.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the love you showed for the first chapter of this fic! All the likes, reblogs, and comments helped keep my muse alive as I wrote the second chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you want to be added to the tag list then let me know, and I'll add you when I post chapter three. Enjoy!

Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff

Chapter Two: Flower In A Hailstorm

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992 

Your black backpack bounced lightly against your back as you followed a couple paces behind your brother and sister. The morning was bright and warm. The neighborhood was a quiet bustle of activity. Garages opening. Cars pulling out of driveways to begin another commute to work. Other kids trickled out of quiet homes on their way to school. 

When you had walked two blocks, your brother swung his navy blue backpack around until it hung off his shoulder in front of him. He unzipped his bag and looked at your older sister. His hand disappeared into his bag. 

“Do you think Sadie will go to the Homecoming dance with me?” he asked your sister.

Your sister shrugged. “Depends. Is she desperate?” 

“Ha ha. Very funny,” your brother said as your sister smirked. He pulled out a shiny, wrapped foil of pop tarts. “I’m serious. Do you know if anyone else has asked her?” He opened the foil and pulled out one pop tart. He turned and handed it out towards you. You smiled and hurried to catch up to them. You took the pop tart and immediately bit into it. The sweet taste of blueberry jam and hard surgery icing filled your mouth. 

Your brother pulled the second pop tart out of the foil, broke it in half, and handed one piece to your sister. 

She took her half. “How would I know?” She took a bite of her piece of pop tart. 

“Because you’re in the same History class,” your brother replied.

“That doesn’t mean I talk to her,” your sister said before taking another bite. 

You ate your blueberry pop tart while listening to your siblings talk about Sadie and the Homecoming dance. You didn’t chime in with any advice. You didn’t know who Sadie was. Most likely a girl in high school like your siblings. But it was fun to listen to them discuss the likelihood of your brother getting a date with this girl. By the time you reached your school, your sister had settled on the theory that Sadie would most likely agree to the date if every other boy in the school dropped dead. 

Your siblings wished you a successful day before you parted ways. You walked your usual route into your school and through the busy hallways. Clusters of students clung to the long, noisy hallways. Their stares were all too familiar. Strange looks. Hushed questions that weren’t so quiet that you couldn’t overhear. No kid dared to leave their pack of friends to go near you. Despite the plain, ordinary clothes you wore, you also wore the stories of your father. 

He was the random, misplaced red thread in a blanket of black. He stood opposed to the currents of the town. His beliefs were rooted securely in what many brushed aside as fantasies. He kept himself fairly busy within the confines of your home, but whenever fate drew him into the public an odd story would follow. One neighbor once saw your father out in a field, attempting to contact aliens. Another found him in their yard digging a hole to a secret bunker. There were countless stories, and they followed you wherever you went. You were his, and so, you must be strange too. It didn’t help that you rarely ever acted like the other kids. It was not intentional. If you could understand how to act like them, you would. But you didn��t. So every day you spent in this school, you spent it alone. Surrounded by strangers. Constantly feeling their judgmental stares digging into your back. Hearing the whispered rumors about you and your family. 

When you reached your classroom, you went over to your desk at the far back side of the room. Your desk was positioned an extra foot off to the left as if the group of desks had just decided to push yours just a bit further away. You put away your belongings into your desk, hung your backpack on the back of your chair, sat down, and waited for the school day to begin. 

You had your notebook open and you practiced your handwriting as the other students all filed in. Your whole family was in agreement that your handwriting was truly horrible. You needed to fix that, but you frowned at your latest attempts. All barely legible. Your disappointment lingered as the teacher called for the class’s attention. When you lifted your head up, every ounce of disappointment and every thought regarding your terrible handwriting vanished at the sight of her. 

The girl with the blue hair. 

“Class,” your teacher began. “This is Nat. She just moved here and will be joining our class. Let’s give her a warm welcome.” 

As the rest of the class released a chorus of hellos, you sat silently, transfixed. The first, loudest thought in your mind was a simple question: how did she have blue hair? It was so cool. It reminded you of one of the characters out of your sister’s books. The ones she would tell you about right before bed. The second thought was that she was pretty. You couldn’t come up with a good comparison or truly unravel that thought completely. You just knew when you looked at her that she was really pretty. You liked that. 

The teacher gestured to the empty desk closest to yours. Quietly, she crossed the length of the room and sat down at the empty desk. You watched as she pulled a notebook from her backpack before setting her bag down. Then, she looked over towards you. You felt your whole body tense up under her gaze. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to blurt out the loudest thought in your head, but your mouth stayed shut tight. 

“Hi.” Her greeting was soft and quiet. 

You blinked and your mouth opened. “Hi.” When you felt the first sting of awkward tension, you looked away and back down at your notebook. 

The morning creeped by rather uneventfully. Every so often you would look over at Nat who would be busy writing down notes like the rest of the class. You wondered if she recognized you from the other day. Whenever your attention was on your bad note taking, it would often break off and wonder about how to start a normal conversation with Nat. You had never been in such a weird position before. Wanting a connection instead of accepting the natural recoil. You hadn’t come up with any solid strategies by the time the lunch bell rang. 

You pulled your brown bagged lunch from your backpack and followed your class down to the cafeteria. You lost sight of Nat during the shuffling of students, so you took your seat at your usual spot at the end of one of the long, blue-gray cafeteria tables. You opened up your brown bag and pulled out your aluminum foil wrapped sandwich. It was the only thing your father had packed for you. You unwrapped the foil. Your brow furrowed when you didn’t see any meat, or cheese, or anything poking out from between the twin slices of white bread. In fact, there was nothing at all between the slices. Just two slices of bread sitting one on top of the other. 

You heard hushed giggles coming from further down the table. You looked over just as a few of your laughing classmates quickly looked away. Usually, this didn’t bother you. You were used to this. But you couldn’t deny the hurt starting to creep in. You wanted to say something. Do something. Anything to let out–

Someone sat down next to you. Whatever had started to build inside you washed away at the sight of her again. She started to open up her own bag, but stopped when she noticed the two slices of bread posing as a sandwich. 

Her green eyes shifted to you. “Is that your lunch?”

“Uh,” was the first word out of your mouth before you looked down at the bread slices and then back up to Nat. “Yes. It’s my sandwich.” 

“Where’s all the stuff in between?” she asked. 

“I think my father forgot it,” you answered. 

She reached into her bag and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was already cut in half. “Here.” She offered one half of her sandwich to you. 

You looked from her, to the offered half, and then back to her. “Are you sure?” When she nodded, you took it. You immediately took a big bite. The creamy taste of peanut butter brought a smile to your lips. “Thanks.”

Nat smiled and took a bite of her half of the sandwich. “What’s your name?”

You swallowed your second bite. “Y/N.” 

“I think you live across the street from me,” Nat said. 

Your smile grew tenfold and you nodded. 

This seemed to amuse her as she chewed on another bite of her sandwich. “I remember you.”

“Me too,” you replied. “I like your hair.” 

“Thanks,” she smiled. 

Your conversation carried through your lunch. It was the first time your lunch had been more than just daydreaming between bites of food. You found yourself eagerly engaged in the bits and pieces that Nat shared about herself. You noticed that whenever you shared anything about yourself, she listened attentively without any judgment. You liked the sound of her voice. Whatever connection you had found felt strange and weird. But warm. And happy. 

When lunch was over, you both walked back to class together. You were sad when you took your seats at your desks and returned to your lessons. You already missed this new piece of your life. You just wanted to sit and keep talking to Nat. You strangely got your wish when your teacher instructed the class to pair up for a project. As the rest of the class paired up like normal, Nat looked over towards you. 

“Want to be partners?” she asked. 

When you nodded, she maneuvered her desk to sit a bit closer to yours. Now both of your desks sat further away from the others. You had never conceived that such a day like this would come to pass. Yet here it was, and you couldn’t be happier. 

Somewhere Else – 2010

The burn of the cold mountain air is the only chill you feel as you lift the axe above your head. The muscles in your back protest for the umpteenth time. It’s only been a week since the Amsterham job, and your body is still recovering from the aftermath. Being thrown across a lobby into a pillar wasn’t particularly fun. It wasn’t the worst abuse your body has been through. Barely a fraction of it. But it still sucked. 

You bring the axe down onto the log in front of you. The sharp, curved blade cuts deep into the wood. The smell of pine needles carries on the wind as you yank the axe free from the log. Your bright red plaid shirt clings to your sweaty skin. Your hair is tied back in a messy, low ponytail as you lift the axe back into the air. Dark green cargo pants with the ends tucked into tan boots covers your legs. 

You hadn’t intended to dress up like a lumberjack. You had thrown on your clothes after waking up with a sore back, stared at yourself in the mirror, and wondered what she was doing right now. You had slipped out of Amsterdam without issue. The media had covered the incident with varying degrees of accuracy. There were mentions of charred remains, but no mention of you. Or her. The two days it had taken you to travel to this little piece of woodland paradise had been spent looking over your shoulder. Waiting for her to catch up with you. 

The disappointment you felt upon reaching this place in one piece was a real mood killer. The fun was over, and now you were just left with yourself. You needed to do something. So, here you were with an axe in hand chopping up firewood. But your thoughts still linger on her. You wonder if she’ll ever find you here. You certainly hadn’t left any clues behind. 

Your axe swings back down into the log, and it breaks cleanly in half. You set your axe down upon the grass and toss the chopped wood onto a growing pile off to your right. Then, you grab another log and place it squarely on the stump. Your hands find your axe again. You can’t decide if you liked her blue hair more than the red. You know that you loved when she was on top of you. You raise your axe. Regret weaves into your thoughts. You should have enjoyed it more. What if you never see her again? You bury your axe deep into the log. 

“You have outdone yourself again.” 

Finally. You were wondering when he’d show up. 

You look over towards your father. He steps down from the cabin’s back deck. His thick black hair is combed back and peppered with white strands. Sunlight bounces off a pair of thin, brown wire frame glasses that covers his eyes. He buries his hands into the pockets of a heavy, amber colored jacket as he casually walks towards you. The denim blue jeans he wears bears a few grass stains and dried mud mares his gray loafers.

You yank your axe free and smile. “I made the front page.” 

Your father returns your smile with one of his own, yet it is small and his steel gray eyes remain cold. “I saw. Apparently a shooting between rival criminals turned into a deadly explosion. All dead. The hotel won’t reopen until late next year due to the large hole in their building.” 

A small laugh escapes you as you shake your head. “That is giving them too much credit.”

Your father’s brow furrows. “Who?”

“The men you told me to kill,” you answer as your attention returns to the log in front of you. “They were not rival criminals. They were rich men who wanted more. They reached too far, and I made them go boom.” You raise your axe up and quickly bring it down onto the log. It splits in half. “Except for Tyler.” You look over at your father. “I shot him in the head.” 

“What was so special about Tyler?” he asks. 

You shrug. “Nothing. Just felt like it.” 

Your father lets out a sigh and turns away from you. He takes a few steps away. His hand lifts up, and he runs his fingers through his hair. You set your axe down and toss the newly split wood towards the steadily growing pile of new firewood. You start to reach for another log, but your father turns back around and returns.  

“This job was important.” 

It is your turn to sigh as your interest in splitting the next log vanishes. You knew this was coming. The conversation was always the same whenever one of your jobs ended in a mess. You can’t help the way your eyes instinctively roll. Your father steps closer. 

“These clients are important.”

“It was boring,” you lift your axe up and rest it against your shoulder. 

“I do not care how boring it was, Y/N.”

“Of course you don’t.” Any trace of your earlier amusement is gone. “You did not have to do any of the work. I did. I had to spend four days with an arrogant stranger who smelled like cheap cologne and even cheaper bourbon.” Your father shakes his head and turns away from you, but you are far from through with your rant. “All that money, and he is a cheapskate. Did you know that the first thing he made me do was beat up his driver because he wore the wrong tie? And there was no backup. Who doesn’t have backup?”

Your father turns back to face you. “Are you done?”

“No,” you reply. “I wanted to kill him then. After the first twenty minutes. But no. The important clients don’t want to tackle their problems one at a time. They want everything all at once.” 

“They wanted this job to be subtle.”

“I do not understand why you are upset with me because your clients had unreal expectations,” you reply. 

Your father frowns. “Because I trained you to be better than this.”

You don’t have a clever response for that. You turn and start to make your way towards the cabin. 

“They are also upset that you left one of them alive,” your father says after a moment. 

You stop as you reach the cabin’s back deck. You look back over towards your father. “Then their information is bad. All the targets are dead. It will probably take awhile to identify all the bodies. Shifting through the rubble from the charred limbs takes time.” You set your axe down and lean it against the side of the wooden cabin. 

“They’ve already identified all the bodies,” your father says as he follows you towards the cabin’s back deck. “The targets, their hired security, the SHIELD team.” His voice goes cold around the last three words. 

You stare at your axe. You knew he was going to find out eventually. There was always a report after every one of your jobs. He knew of all your successes and all your weaknesses. It still doesn’t stop you from feeling that first hint of fear. Rooted in so many memories. Your gaze returns to your father. The frown he wears looks so natural upon his face. 

“I did not know that they would be involved,” you say. 

“None of us did,” your father replies. “Why did you leave one of them alive?” 

You feel the fear more keenly now. It’s like he’s reaching out for your favorite toy. You know what he’ll do when he gets it. But it’s yours, and he doesn’t get to touch it. 

“I didn’t–”

“Y/N!” 

You jump slightly at the way your father’s voice explodes like the crack of a gunshot. 

“It’s her, Dad.” 

Your voice is small as confusion softens the hard lines of your father’s face. It’s as if you are back in Ohio seeing the girl with blue hair for the first time. It had stolen the breath from your lungs the first time you saw her. So loudly different from the peaceful town tapestry. You thought you and your siblings were the only ones who stood apart. But then she entered your life.  

“It’s Nat,” you say when your father’s confusion persists. 

And just like that, his confusion falls away and his eyes widen. 

“The Russian spy?” 

A small smile curls your lips. “I didn’t get a chance to ask if that was true.”

“Oh no.” Your father’s hand runs through his hair again before shaking his head. “This is not good.”

“Dad.” You step towards him. “This is wonderful. I thought my only friend had been murdered.”

“That’s because you will believe anything your oaf of a brother tells you,” your father replies. “That girl was a spy. That whole family was built out of secrets and lies. Allowing you to form an attachment with her was a mistake. She was a distraction for you then, and she remains a distraction now.” 

“She did not distract me,” you lie. “I completed the job. Is it now against the rules to socialize with old friends?”

“If she is working with SHIELD then she is your enemy,” the familiar coldness of your father’s voice returns sharply. “She threatens our reputation with our clients.”

“How?” you ask. “She did not stop me from killing my targets. She did not stop me from escaping. She did not follow me here.” Each and every one of those facts were crushing disappointments. “Your reputation remains intact. Nothing will change. I will complete the jobs you give me to the best of my ability. What does it matter if I talk to her? She will not stop me.”

You wait for your father’s argument, yet he says nothing. The look he gives you is familiar. He is studying. Assessing. It reminds you of the countless grueling training sessions in the basement of your home in Ohio. You would be sprawled out on the floor, staring up at him, covered in sweat and sucking in lungfuls of air. Desperate for the training to stop. 

Finally, your father lets out a sigh and digs his hand back into his coat pocket. He withdraws a square, white envelope and extends it out towards you. “Your next job. Straightforward. I expect clean results.” 

You smile and reach for the envelope. But before you can grab it, your father pulls it away. 

“She cannot be a distraction, Y/N.”

Your smile falters. You want to point out that you already explained why she wasn’t. You want to stress that she’ll never be able to stop you from completing your jobs. What happened in Amsterdam was the result of a really long, awful job. You want to say all this, but you don’t. You wish that you were ignorant of the reason. But you know why. Because you aren’t certain what would have happened if that explosion hadn’t happened. If it had just been you and Nat. 

But, you nod, and your father hands over the envelope. You take it.

[anemonelovesfiction]

I (Don’t) Hate You

Spider Socorro x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Eating out, Fingering, Penetration (P! In V!)

MDNI 🔞

Literally noticed the lack of Spider fics and decided to write one, it’s technically an “enemies” to lovers but I’m not sure exactly how that pans out

Not proofread I’m lazy… and once I finish writing I like to get this out to you guys as soon as possible.

Word Count: 5k

Max had asked me a question about potentially working with Spider for some kind of project that he and Norm had been wanting to test out, some kind of scientific hypothesis that if something then something- to be fair I wasn’t really the best at listening once someone was to mention Spider and I doing anything together. It wasn’t that I was willing- wait- it totally was. I just couldn’t see myself actually doing anything remotely scientific with him when all he cared about was chasing after the Sully children and pretending to be one of them, he didn’t think in a scientific way, meaning this project was dead from the beginning.

“Well, why not?” Max asks after I had told him no in a serious tone, having taken into account that he’d managed to drag Spider away from the Sully’s long enough to ask me this question, but I wasn’t really in the mood to have to explain everything to him, scoffing at his question before answering.

“Because I don’t do well with idiots around the lab all day,” I had a lot more to say than just that, but felt it was better to keep my answer short and simple, I held my nose up high not really wanting to listen to any reasoning Max might have had to proving that this was worth trying, I was also mentally exhausted from the back-and-forth Spider and I usually did and it wasn’t beneficial to anyone involved.

“And I don’t do stuck-up bitches, yet here I am.” Spider speaks up for the first time since being here and I was genuinely shocked, my mouth hanging open at his comment, to be fair this was expected of him, he never took anything serious and it was starting to show, I’d never even hung out with him and I was being proven right, his smirk was starting to make an appearance on his face and his arms crossed against his chest.

“Spider,” Max started off, the tone in his voice indicating he had been warning him to knock it off, but I’d had enough.

“You’re such a dick, you know that?”

“Y/n!” Max yelled before I crossed my own arms.

“You think that just because you put on some body paint you’ll be able to be one of them? News flash, you aren’t, you never will be, just because everyone in here didn’t want us when we were born doesn’t mean someone out there will, think with your brain and stop wasting everyones time.” I rolled my eyes as I spoke my heart out, seeing a certain look of disappointment flash on his face before it was replaced with one of anger.

“The only one wasting anyones time here is you, you think you’re one of them? You aren’t, you’re the annoying reject they had to train, at least the natives care about me, nobody cares about you.” Spider was quick to retaliate and I could feel anger bubbling within my body as he spoke, ready to strike back with hurtful words of my own, without thinking about anything I’d been saying and spewing the hate right back to him.

“At least my parents-”

“Thats enough!”

I gasped in sharply as I felt my arm getting yanked, a big blue hand had wrapped itself around my bicep and began quickly walking toward the opposite direction, my legs having no choice but to follow blindly at whoever had just stopped our conversation, sentence dying on my tongue before I was shoved inside a room, falling onto my bottom, the big blue face I’d come to recognize as Norm in his avatar state was the last thing I saw before the door closed.

I only stood and walked back over to the door and attempted to punch my security code on it to get out, eyebrows furrowed in anger at having been tossed in here like I was a wild animal, but to my surprise the keypad blinked red three times, signifying that my code was not validated.

“What-“ I stated before typing my code in again and watching the light blink red once more.

“Norm!” I yelled through the room I’d been tossed in.

“We’re tired of hearing the two of you squabble at one another like its a fucking world war, we’re going to be leaving the lab for an hour so you can get everything out of your system, you guys have better made up by then.” He yells through the door before I can hear receding footsteps, it wasn’t until I turned around at his words that I realized Spider had also been in here.

Time had gone by slowly, I could have sworn I had been stuck in here for the allotted time Norm had stated, but luckily I had been wearing an old wristwatch that still worked, the time on it reading fifteen minutes past when we’d first been placed in here. I could only count the tiles in front of me so many times.

My eyes land on Spider as I see he’d backed up against a wall, hands crossed over his chest, a leg propped up against the wall, I wanted to yell at him but I didn’t have it in me to start another fight.

It wasn’t my intention to have gotten him angry, but the fact that we’d both been seething from what we had said earlier kept the both of us quiet, every time I glanced up at him I could feel a sharp heat slicing through my stomach as I thought up of a quick witted response to whatever it was he’d decided to say.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to say something worth of my time?” He asks without so much as a glance in my direction, I scoffed but turned my face away from his.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you kept your mouth shut.” I stated as my anger begins to simmer in my vessels, attempting to hold back more of the nasty words I had to say.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckles darkly as he turns to look at me, leaning against the wall with one foot up, arms crossed against his chest again.

“If you hadn’t called me an idiot I wouldn’t have had to call you a stuck-up bitch.”

“Are you really saying this is all my fault?” I ask as I start closing the distance between us, knowing better than to get close to him right now, but my anger was starting to rise to an all-time-high with him.

“If the fuckin’ shoe fits.”

“I can’t wait until we get out of here so I don’t have to see your stupid face.” I stated as I finally catch up to him, neck straining slightly at how tall he was, for being out with the natives he grew taller than any of us that stayed in here.

“My stupid face, what are you, three?” He asks as he looks down at me, smirk forming on his face, feeling helpless in this situation and wanting to throw a tantrum, but composing myself as much as I could.

“Wipe that stupid smirk off your stupid face.” Well, there goes my composure, straight out the metaphorical window, and I do admit my comebacks need some work, I did sound like a three year old.

“Or what?” He leans down with a scowl plastered on, his face centimeters away from mine, and I’d made the mistake of looking down at his lips, realizing how full they were, my own scowl dropping as I observed his lips, eyes meeting his and seeing he too had dropped his scowl.

I blinked before he’d closed the distance between us and his lips were on mine, I’d closed my eyes out of instinct, letting myself get lost in the kiss we’d shared, a lot of rage melting away as our lips moved against each other. His hands had been quick to be placed on my waist as he deepened the kiss, effortlessly pulling me closer toward his body, and the warmth radiating off of him had temporarily rid me of the goosebumps I’d gotten from being trapped inside this metal box.

He’s quick to switch our positions, my feet almost stumbling until the back of my waist was pushed against the wall he’d been leaning up against, he’d used his hands to guide themselves on my shirt, tugging on it from behind as I moved my hips out of the way for him to gain better access, accidentally grinding myself against his length.

He let out a hiss as he disconnected our lips, quickly redirecting his lips toward my jaw, inching toward my neck in a teasing manner as he untucked my shirt from the pants they’d been in. I raise my arms up almost instinctively and he begins bunching the shirt in his hands before lifting it off my body, he tosses the shirt back and places his hands on my breasts as he finds my pulse point and sucks.

“Spider~” I whine as his hand snakes underneath the bra I had been wearing and uses his thumbs to caress my nipples.

“I like you better when you have nothing else to say,” He mutters before reaching one hand around my back to unclasp my bra, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was quite a turn on to have witnessed him doing it one handed.

I’m quick to shrug the straps of my bra off and toss it toward one side, not giving him the satisfaction of having said anything else, my own hands reaching for his cheeks as I bring his mouth onto mine, feeling his tongue swipe against my bottom lip, I gasped and feel as he slides his tongue inside my mouth and finding mine before licking it.

“Mm,” I squeak out and feel his hands on my hips again, one hand snaking up to pinch my nipple, as the other caresses my hip lightly. His lips once again traveling off of my own and down toward my neck, skipping over the pulse point he’d suckled earlier and heading towards my collarbones.

I could anticipate his lips getting closer to my breasts and pushed my chest into his face, earning a chuckle from him as his other hand abandons my hip to pinch my other nipple, a low moan reverberating inside my throat.

“You like this, don’t you?” He asks rhetorically.

“Spider,” I whine as I crave his attention on my nipples once more, my face feeling flushed with his words, avoiding eye contact from him until one of his hands grasp my chin gently.

“Tell me what you want.” He mutters low enough for me to hear, but clear enough to have made it a demand, I could only whimper as I look into his eyes, already darkened with lust.

I whine again after a pause of silence, attempting to move my hips to grind against his, only to feel one of his hands coming down to press against my hip, making my ass touch the wall behind me.

“Don’t make me ask again.” He’s clear in his statement and I swallow another whimper, attempting to appear bold as I bite my lip with indecisiveness.

“I want you,” I admit, seeing a smile grace his features, I’ve just come to the realization that I’d enjoyed seeing his smile, his eyes bounce between mine before placing his hand on the babd of my pants, silently asking permission, my heart beats faster upon this action, nodding almost too quickly.

He grabs my pants full force and unbuttons them, pulling them down my legs and stopping once he reaches my knees, given they were khaki shorts I shimmied my legs, taking a step out of them, using my other leg to lick them off God know’s where.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” He responds and I can feel my lips curl into a smile, he gently places his hands on the waistband of my underwear, a look on his face telling me he’s silently asking for permission to pull them down, I could feel my face heating up at how much of a gentleman he was.

I give him a small nod before feeling him start to slide my underwear down with a sense of desperation, only managing to bring it down past my knee’s before he’s back up again, I take it as my cue to kick off my underwear the same way I’d done with my pants, not really caring where it had gone.

I feel him dip down slightly, face coming toward my chest as he places his hands behind my thighs, I immediately jump and feel his strong arms wrap themselves around my thighs, but he doesn’t stop lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist, but rather settling me up so high, my back is leaning against the wall and my legs were placed along his shoulders.

“Spider,” I stated uncertainly, the cool metal starting to cool me down and bring me back to my senses.

“It’s okay, I got you,” He gives my thigh a comforting squeeze.

“Aren’t I too heavy?” I asked as the uncertainty had started creeping through my mind.

He only keeps his eyes on me as his face comes close to my cunt, the heat that had started dwindling with the coolness of the metal on my back was starting to come back, and the moment his tongue comes out to lick a fat stripe against my pussy has me gasping lightly, immediately biting my lip in an attempt to control my hips from thrusting in his face.

The second lick he does has a moan tickling the back of your throat, his tongue flattening to cover more of the surface area, I was tempted to toss my head back, but the hold his dark chocolate eyes held on me kept me locked into place.

The third lick was starting to drive me wild as he finally delved his tongue in, tasting my juices and allowing the tip to flick against my clit, a moan I’d cut off had slipped out as I shifted my weight slightly, lifting my hips up a bit and watching his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Spider,” I breathe out, unsure of what it was I was even asking for, until he finally dips his tongue back on me, honing in on my clit, circling his tongue around it.

I allowed myself to throw my head back, feeling as my hand lifts up and grabs a fistful of his dreadlocks.

“Oh fuck,” I whined, rolling my hips against his tongue as I closed my eyes, losing myself in the pleasure, the grip on my thighs getting stronger as he attempts to hold my hips still.

He doesn’t waste any time in moving his muscle faster, my hips fighting against his hands, a growl dripping from my lips as I squeeze my eyes tightly.

“I’m coming-“ I grasp his dreads tightly as I feel my walls closing over nothing as he continues to bring me pleasure by continuing to lick me, holding me steadily as he allows me to ride out my orgasm.

Once I’d felt like I had enough I loosened my hold on his hair and paw at his forehead to get him to stop, he brings his own face back and I felt spent, dropping my hips in a slumped position and noticing the shiny cum on Spiders mouth and chin.

Taking a second to catch my breath I continue staring between his eyes and shiny mouth, a smile forming on my own lips as a thought came to my head, It wasn’t my intention to piss him off but I could have a little fun teasing him.

“Enjoy your meal?” I stated and watch him smirk, affectively letting go of my thighs, I yelp and jump slightly at the feeling if my security being gone before he places his hands on my waist, carefully setting me down.

“Spider!” I angrily stated while playfully hitting his shoulder.

“I like it better when you’re moaning it out instead,” He corners me against the wall before planting a quick kiss on my lips, hands finding my waist, thumbs rubbing against my skin deliciously.

“Why don’t you,” I trailed my hand down his abs and place my finger on the band of his loincloth, watching as my eyes trailed down alongside my hand, linking my finger in it in and tugging at it slightly before my eyes meet his.

“Take this off,” I began as I use my other hand to repeat the action, now gently tugging on his loincloth, practically begging it to come off.

“So I can please you.” I ended my comment by taking both fingers out from the band, and using one hand to cup his hardened length, eyes coming up again to meet his, only to find him looking down at my hand, lips caught between his teeth.

“I have a better idea.” He mumbles as he settles his body to sit flush against mine, he didn’t seem too concerned with discarding his loincloth as he brings his lips on mine once more, igniting the fire in my core.

His hands aren’t gentlemanly as they roam around my body, greedily mapping out my body as his tongue dances with mine, his knee digs itself between my legs and I’m forced to spread myself just so he can fit in, not minding this situation one bit as one of his hands dive deeper.

He manages to slide his index finger between my slick folds, brushing up against the clit he’d abused earlier, a muffled moan coming from me while his lips were on mine, his hand working its way further down until he shoves his finger in without warning.

My gasp gives him a second to shove his tongue back down my throat, my legs spreading further to allow his hand enough space to work its magic, another muffled moan slipping past my lips.

“Spider~” I moaned again as I move my head toward the side with his kisses leading to my neck once more.

A second finger finds itself shoved inside my pussy and a long moan follows after, the way he’s allowing me to adjust to the sheer size of his fingers was more than generous, slowly inserting both fingers and feeling the delicious stretch filling my senses, his mouth connecting with my nipple had fueled the fire stirring in my belly.

“Spider please,” I whine as his fingers are moving terribly slow, I could take his fingers moving faster as I usually did this to myself, but having someone else do it felt so much better.

“Yeah, What do you want?” He asks as his fingers start going faster but even then it wasn’t enough, my knees still buckle under the pleasure and I was having a hard time concentrating on standing, but I was craving more.

“I want you to fuck me-“ I stated, feeling my face growing hotter at my own words, not caring at the moment as I knew what I wanted.

He doesn’t say anything but curls his fingers inside me, hitting a delicious spot that made me see stars, I could only throw my head back.

“Spider!” I moan again, letting a longer one roll out of my mouth as I desperately attempt to scratch the itch of my growing orgasm, my own hips snapping against his hand to meet his thrusts and feeling as though something was missing.

“I like when you say my name like that,” He speaks rather huskily, taking his fingers out of my cunt, bringing his fingers toward his mouth and letting a moan of his own sneak past him.

“You taste divine,” He mumbles as if he hadn’t just ate me out earlier.

“Please take this off,” I whine as my fingers sneak into the waistband of his loincloth, tugging rather harshly just to hear him chuckle at my desperation, I only found my eyes drifting up to meet his.

“Please,” I find myself begging silently, my voice barely above a whisper, seeing his eyes soften as he brings his hand toward my cheek.

“Lie down,” He seems to accept what I’d been wanting as his other hand reaches where his loincloth is tied, nodding at his command as I bring myself down to the cold floor, lying down and watching as he settles onto his knees on the floor, pulling on the string and watching as his loincloth finally slides off his body.

I watch as his cock springs up, slapping him in the belly, precome coating the tip and my breath being dragged out as I stared. The tip of his cock was rather big and he was thick all around, sure he wasn’t as big as my forearm, but staring at him made me question if it was going to fit.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily, his own hand coming down to squeeze his balls and the base of his cock all together.

I could feel the saliva coating my mouth as I desperately wanted to taste him, feeling myself gulp rather loudly before my eyes go up toward his again.

“Is it going to fit?” I asked with uncertainty, feeling my legs closing subconsciously, I watch as his eyes trail down toward my legs, then back up toward my eyes before he crawls up toward me, his body hovering over mine as he leans down to kiss my forehead gently.

“We can stop if you’d like,” He begins but I shake my head.

“N-no, I want to, I’m just nervous.” I was quick to answer, not wanting to ruin what we had going on at the moment, placing my hands on either of his cheeks and using my thumb to caress his face.

“I trust you,” I stated and feel him nod, his dreads forming themselves around his face so perfectly, I smiled while spreading my legs wider to fit him in.

“This might hurt at first,” He begins as he grasps his cock with one hand, placing it close to my cunt and pushing his cock between the lips of my slick, the head of him rubbing against my clit.

“That feels good,” I moan and feel him continue to stimulate my clit, my legs spreading wider, my eyes closing softly as I focus on the pleasure.

“You ready?” His husky voice breaks me out of my happy place but I nod.

He slides his cock down and I feel it catch as he slowly pushes the tip inside, the stretch feeling wider than that of his fingers, but the feeling was incredible.

“More-“ I shimmy my hips down closer, feeling more of his cock sliding in, the stretch starting to feel like a lot but my desperation to fill all of him was consuming me.

“This feels so good,” I hear him strain, his hands coming to grasp my hips rather harshly, he squeezes harsh too but refuses to move.

“Spider more,” I beg as I attempt to shimmy myself further but feel him holding me into place.

“I need a second,” He groans, my eyes open as I see him struggling to take a decent deep breath, his dreads threaten to tickle my nipples as his head is hanging low.

“Don’t hold back!” I whine as I attempt to move my hips for more stimulation and feeling frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

I can hear him growl as he slides himself the rest of the way in, the breath that had been in my lungs suddenly leaves as I feel his entire length inside me.

A low groan leaves his lips as he ruts ever so gently into me, his hands still holding into my hips harshly, his grunts coming out rhythmically before taking his entire length out and shoving it back inside.

I moan louder than I had in previous attempts as his entire cock stretches me out deliciously, a bit of pain bringing a stinging sensation, but it was all welcomed as he begins to set his own pace.

I find myself wrapping my legs around his waist, he suddenly picks up the pace, causing an obscene sound to come from my pussy, a warmth filling me up as he continues his thrusts.

“You feel so good, so tight, fuck!” He exclaims as he plants his knee’s down, hand trailing from from my thigh, down the swell of my ass and trailing past my leg, tugging at it to get me to unhook myself from him.

I take my legs off his lower back to appease him, but watch as he grabs my legs by my ankles, pushing them up toward my face and essentially folding me in half. The feeling of the tip of his cock kissing my cervix is the only feeling I could focus on.

He tightens his hands on my ankles and begins to drag himself out of me, and smirk as he slams himself back into me.

“Spider!” I whine as I feel him reaching my cervix, my special spot, and places I had no idea existed inside of me.

“You gonna stop being a brat to me from now on?” He asks me loud enough to bring my attention towards him, moaning out as he thrusts back into my half bent body, unable to think properly.

“Give me an answer, pretty girl,” His hips still and a rage settles inside me, his hands loosen around my ankles as he runs his hands down my calves, now placing his hold on the back of my thighs.

“N-no,” I mumble, seeing him smile, his grip on my thighs tighten and he starts thrusting into me almost primally, his growls being heard in my ears as his cock assaults my cervix, the feeling of it being hit continuously starting to draw my orgasm near.

“I’m close,” I squeezed my eyes tightly to focus on the pleasure, feeling as they roll back into my skull as I see starts forming in my vision.

“Thats it, baby, squeeze my cock dry.” His words drive me closer to the edge as I feel it begin to flutter around him, his thrusts never ceasing to bring me pleasure.

“I’m coming,” I cry out as he thrusts in one last time, feeling my walls contracting against his cock, stuck in a state of ecstasy, a high pitched whine leaving my lips as I’d came.

A sudden warmth entering my cunt as Spider empties his cock inside me, a drawn out moan escaping him as he attempts to thrust deeper into me.

It hadn’t taken long for us to untangle our limbs and put our clothes back on, but I did feel slightly dirty knowing there was no possible way for me to clean myself up, feeling as his cum slid out of my cunt and into my underwear, a lovely stain I’d have to deal with cleaning out later.

“How long do you think it’ll take for either one of them to come back?” I asked as I finally find the courage to look past my hands and up to him.

He only shrugs and it appears he’s been biting his lip, unsure of what to say or how else to keep the conversation going, but the quiet we’d marinated in had been welcoming, there was nothing awkward about it.

Just then my ears jerk slightly at the slightest sound of someones footsteps making its way in the lab room we’d been in.

“Wanna know how I know you learned your lesson?” Norms voice is heard from the other side of the door, a rhetorical question since he never expected the same answer to come out our mouths, so he answered his own question aloud.

“Because I don’t hear you yelling at each other,” He mutters and just then a beep is heard, the door opens up automatically to show us a human Norm standing on the other side.

“Can we go now?” Spider asks with an attitude lacing his tone, I nervously look over at him before my eyes shift to Norm exhaling loudly, had everything we’d done just been a one time thing?

“Promise not to put up a fight the next time we ask you a simple question?” Is his sassy reply and I felt my eyes rolling as I walk over toward the exit, arms crossed as soon as I stand close to Norm, seeing Max behind him.

“The next time you lock us in here without a toilet or running water I’ll make sure to castrate your Avatar.” I threatened before pushing past him and walking out.

I didn’t bother turning around to know that the footsteps behind me were Spiders.

“Hey, you okay?” Spider asks once we’re within an earshot from Max and Norm, I could feel him grasping my arm gently, and I turned my body to look at him, seeing genuine concern from his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I sigh out and feel him wrap his arms around me in a hug.

“I hate you,” I mumbled into the hug.

“I don’t hate you.” He replies and I smile.

__________

“So what do the results yielded from the study conclude for our hypothesis?” Max asks from behind Norm,who turns toward Max with a smile gracing his features.

“It would prove it correct,”Norm couldn’t fight the small laugh that had decided to come through his lips, his face slightly brightening as his cheeks reddened, the two of them now smiling.

“It smells like sex in there, do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face the whole time, I was literally dying!” Max mentions as he comes close to his colleague, hand coming up to clap his shoulder twice, the two of them turning around to document their findings, opening a folder on the tablet, the hypothesis in bold.

If two people who quarrel with one another over stupid things are trapped together in a room with no way to track time, then they are more than likely to sleep with one another in said room after realizing there is no way out.

[fandoms--fluff]

Stormed

Part 4 

Salvatore little sister x Damon Salvatore x Stefan Salvatore

Warnings: Swearing, death/murder

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Jeremy opened the door a bunch of hybrids came crashing through the house, starting to attack everyone.

Damon, enraged started to rip all the hybrids that are attacking him, hearts out, then throwing them right next to the limp bodies. Katherine and Elena coincidentally fighting next to each other made all the hybrids confused as which one of them were Elena.

“Which one of you is Elen-” one of the hybrids started but Jeremy attacked him and decapitated him before he could say the rest of his sentence. 

“That was quite rude, I have a way better personality and better looking than her” Katherine said before slamming one of the hybrids into the railing. Elena just glared at her before moving to an opposite spot of the room.

While they were fighting off the last few hybrids you had no idea what was going on downstairs since Tyler and Caroline’s room was on the other side of the house and the door was closed. That was until a hybrid got past all of them and followed the sound of your voice to the room. He crashed into the room and you screamed, frightened and backed away until you hit the headboard of the bed.

You still had your light brown teddy bear tight in your grasp and hugged up to your chin. The guy vampire sped towards you and stabbed a shot full of vervain on your shoulder. You fell slump against the headboard and he picked you up, speeding out of the house without anyone seeing or hearing anything.  

By the time all the hybrids were dead, some of the furniture was flipped over. Immediately Damon sped upstairs and searched all the rooms that you could’ve been in, including tearing apart the fort you built and tripped on one of the blankets. 

“Fuck!” He swore and got back up then went downstairs to everyone else. “y/n’s gone” He informed. 

“One of Klaus’s hybrids must of gone upstairs and taken her while we weren’t paying any attention. 

“Well we would have heard her screaming right?” Caroline asked, worried. 

Damon clenched his fists, trying to push back his anger. “She was in your guys’ room” Damon said, motioning towards Caroline and Tyler.

“How do you know she was in there?” Elena questioned.

“I saw three of her stuffed animals scattered on their bed and the sheets were scattered as if she were trying to back away from someone coming towards her.”

“So what are we going to do? How are we supposed to get her back without Klaus killing all of us, cause he will with no hesitation. And that’s coming from someone that’s been running from him for hundreds of years” Katherine said, pouring herself a drink then downed it. 

“What about Elijah, would he know where Klaus might be?” Jeremy asked.

“I’ll see if there’s anything that he knows” Elena said getting her phone that was laying on the ground, phoning Elijah. 

After the first three rings he picked up, “Why does he always pick up when you phone but never when I phone him” Damon complained, not noticing Elena put her phone on speaker. 

‘Because every single time you phoned me it was always something stupid or just to piss me off’ Elijah said, making Damon freeze.

“Fair enough” Damon shrugged then put on a serious facial expression.

“So your brother’s hybrids came and attacked us we killed them all obviously then plot twist one of them got away, went upstairs and kidnapped y/n” Katherine said, trying to imitate Elena.

‘I know that was you speaking Katerina, your vocabulary is very different from Elena’s. Oh and also who is y/n?’ He asked, confused.

“She’s our four-year-old sister - well older but, you know- whatever” Stefan said, panicking about where you were. 

‘I’ll see what I can do, I’ll make sure to contact you as soon as I find out anything’ Elijah sighed.

“Okay, thank you so much, bye” Elena said. “Alright, bye” he hanged up and he looked towards his brother.

“What did you do Niklaus?” Elijah said, rage laced in his voice.

[ferretrade]

Skybridger Week Day 2: Mistaken Identity (this one is... not as well executed as I wanted it but I don’t have the energy for something long sooo)

Luke points his blaster at the intruder. The man looks only slightly inconvenienced; his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for a weapon before he reconsiders. 

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Luke asks. 

The night is dark and the alley they’re in, three houses down from the one Luke is waiting to approach, is even darker. The man, who slipped into the alley in a hurry, nearly bumping into Luke as he did, is close enough that Luke can make out his face in the dark.

"Jabba the Hutt," he answers with an unsettling grin.

Luke huffs, trying not to look amused. "Wow, Jabba, you look good considering you’re dead." 

The man blinks, almost brightening at the comment. "Well, sometimes death doesn't really stick," he supplies cheekily. 

"Who are you really?" 

"Fine." His demeanor turns serious, but his eyes don't. They glint dangerously. "My name is Luke Skywalker, I'm here on very serious Jedi business. Top secret. Super dangerous. Can't tell anyone."

If Luke had more sense, he thinks he would stun this liar now. But this is… a unique opportunity. And there's something charming about him (Luke can practically feel Leia smacking his head, lecturing him about not playing along with criminals because they're charming or attractive). Still. 

"That's impressive," Luke says, lips curling towards a smile. "But how can I trust you?" 

"Well, I have one of these, don't I?" He pulls a lightsaber hilt from his belt and, oh, that makes things a lot more interesting. Was it his or did he steal it like Luke's identity?

Unwisely, Luke lowers his blaster. "I suppose you do." 

Something in Luke wants to play this out. Besides, the Force would warn him if he was in danger, right? He doesn’t feel any ill intent from this stranger. 

And, after a moment, they have bigger things to worry about. There's a clatter of noise from down the street that attracts both their attention. 

"Karabast," he swears under his breath. "They're here." 

"Who's here?" Luke asks, wide-eyed. There are two dark figures approaching the house Luke was guarding and now he feels ill intent. Whoever they are, they're the threat he was waiting for. 

"Inquisitors," He says, moving already. "Stay out of the way." 

Luke watches, frozen for a moment, as the man pulls out his lightsaber and twirls it around. So that answers the question of whether he stole it or not. Definitely not. 

“Following me, again? I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me.”

The Inquisitors pull out their lightsabers and start in on him. 

“You know what we’re here for,” one growls. “Leave now or die.” 

“Heard that before,” he scoffs back. “And yet, I’m still here. Not as powerful without the Emperor behind you, huh?” 

Lightsabers clash, and Luke watches for a moment as the man fights off two foes at the same time. And then Luke charges. 

“What are you—” the man cuts off when Luke wields his own lightsaber, eyes wide for a moment. (Luke can’t help enjoying surprising him.) 

“Helping.” Luke supplies with a grin, parrying a blow. It only takes a moment for them to start fighting in sync, ending up back to back as they hold off the Inquisitors. 

Just as quickly as it starts, the fight ends and the Inquisitors are down. 

The door to the house whooshes open, Leia runs out, baby in arms. “What the kriff, Luke?” she whisper-yells. Truly her most terrifying form of anger. “You said we’d be safe here.”

But Luke can’t really focus on her, his eyes caught on the stranger who seems to be here to protect his nephew just as he is. A Force user. An interesting one—a handsome one. And one who is going through a series of shocked emotions.

“Luke? As in—”

“Yeah,” Luke grins, before Leia snaps at him again. “You are safe, aren’t you? Threat neutralized.” He smiles his best smile as Leia glares. “Go back inside, Lei. I don’t think anyone else is coming, but I'll keep guard. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Luke leans in to give her a half hug, making sure not to crush his nephew. He feels Leia’s tension melt away, just a little. “Ben’s safe,” he says softly. “No one’s going to take him.” 

Leia finally agrees with a nod before she disappears back inside. 

“So. Luke Skywalker,” the man hums, his gaze appraising. From the grin on his face, he approves. 

“And you are?” Luke matches his grin. “Don’t tell me—it really is Jabba?” 

His smile turns a little sheepish and he lifts his hand in a wave. “Ezra,” he finally says, and Luke can tell he’s being honest. “Ezra Bridger.” 

“Oh.” Luke blinks. “I’ve… I’ve heard of you.” Everyone talked about Ezra back in the Rebel Alliance, and he’d worked with General Syndulla before. He didn’t know much, but he knew enough.

Ezra nods, a little impatiently. “Yeah, yeah. Not dead, disappeared for a while, now I’m back.” 

Luke raises an eyebrow at all that. Something to unpack another day, maybe. “Well, I hope you plan to stay.” 

That seems to surprise him again and Ezra grins sharply. “Is that an invitation?”

“It could be,” Luke decides, voice playful. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. It feels a bit like he’s about to jump off the edge of a cliff, but he likes it. “It does seem like we’re on the same side. I wouldn’t mind a partner.” 

“How about, when all this is over,” Ezra waves around vaguely, meaning something between the bodies they need to deal with, the night they have in front of them, and the explanations they owe each other. “We start with a drink?”

His smile and response are easy. “I’d like that.”

[crownmemes]

Angry & Irritated Sentences, Vol. 13

(Angry and irritated sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Did you sedate my mother?"

"I didn't sleep with him!"

"Don't you call me an asshole!"

"Are you trying to bribe me?"

"My opinions shouldn’t be rejected just because people don’t like me!"

"You have the luxury of not caring about your image, but I do not!"

"I am not giving you advice just so you can distort it to suit your own warped world view!"

"I'm not going to like you, am I?"

"I told you before, mind your own business!"

"You're being a jerk!"

"You think this is interesting to me?"

"Did you need to be so cruel?"

"I assume you're here for a reason. What do you want from me?"

"I don't know what your daddy issues are, but don't deflect them on me."

"Did you ever consider being happy for me?"

"You know what happens when you interfere in other people's relationships?"

"You don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Tone it down or I will hit you."

"I don't have to explain myself to you!"

"What is it now? You irritate me."

"You know, you're very, very cute. You're also very manipulative."

"If there's a screw-up, it's your screw-up."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're annoying?"

"You know, I think you're the wickedest human being I've ever met!"

"Sorry, am I boring you?"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry if I don't trust your sense of humour."

"You better not be faking this just to get out of a tough conversation."

"You know what's worse than a sanctimonious speech? A sanctimonious speech that's dead wrong."

"You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you!"

"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?"

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"You followed me here, didn't you?"

"You think this is who I wanted to be?"

"Such ingratitude, after all the times I saved your life."

"I don't suppose it's occurred to you that I might hugely prefer someone else?"

"Does everybody around here have trust issues?"

"If you've got a problem with a call I make, question the call. Don't make it personal."

"No! I’m not getting sucked into the vortex of your insanity again!"

"Are you trying to make me look stupid in front of the other guests?"

"You're more than usually allergic to the truth tonight."

"Have you ever bothered, for just one minute, to understand how someone else might feel?"

"At times, your sense of humour is a little too malicious."

"Do you want to go to jail?"

"You lied to me and betrayed me. Do you think I really care what you consider a good idea anymore?"

"Is there any way in which that is not a lie?"

"Just because you were right doesn't mean you weren't wrong."

"I can smile through gritted teeth and play nice, but there are serious risks of violence involved in that choice."

"You just won't die, will you?"

[datura-tea]

when gwen came back to vault 101, no one cheered. no one welcomed her back. which is to be expected - there were some who blamed her for what happened. butch thought that was bullshit, but no one would ever hear him defending gwen. especially not gwen. so he watched from a distance when she stomped into the vault in her too-big boots, dried blood in her hair, dusty and dirty and standing taller than he had ever seen her.

gwen lit up when she saw amata, but quickly dimmed when amata approached her hesitantly, as if scared. butch can't blame amata; this new gwen, wasteland gwen, looked like vault gwen only in passing. wasteland gwen was rougher, tougher. imposing. her rifle slung easily from her shoulder.

butch wondered if she had ever killed anyone with it.

butch decided to break the silence. he pointed at gwen's rifle. "ever killed anyone with that thing?"

he leaned against the door as gwen and amata talked, noting gwen's frown deepening the more amata filled her in. she was all business now; very serious, impartial and indifferent. asking questions like: what happened here? what do you want me to do? how much are you going to pay me? which unsettled butch a little. gwen was never a joker, but she never took anything seriously, either. to see her stone-cold and stern (like james) was new, and it was concerning.

so when gwen passed him on her way to the overseer, he walked in step with her. she nodded at him. he nodded back. they stayed like that for a few blocks, just quiet. which was new, also. before, they would've been talking each other's ears off, firing off insults and jabs one after another.

gwen rolled her eyes. "hi, gwen," she said in a deepened voice. "it's nice to see you again, gwen. i was so worried about you, gwen." she sighed. "just shot wilkins with it."

"wilkins is dead?"

"fuck if i know. i didn't stay to check." she doubled back to peer into the clinic. she turned to butch, her hands on her hips. "look, what do you want from me?"

butch looked her in the eye. no need to beat around the bush, then. "i need to get out of here, man."

gwen shrugged. "then get out of here. what's stopping you and your dinky little knife?"

"dinky? what are you calling dinky?" butch bristled. "this thing's sharp as fuck."

"that shit can't peel an apple. that shit's barely worth a cap."

butch frowned. "the fuck is a cap?"

"wasteland money. it's dumb." gwen entered the clinic as she talked. butch followed her. "they use fucking bottlecaps."

"there's money up there?" brotch taught them about money and trade, but they didn't use it in the vault. "no vouchers? no rations?"

"no, man. you find food or you trade or you starve." gwen was rummaging through the rubble in james' office. "i've just been eating cold cram."

"but you're eating what you want," butch said. "you have a choice."

"yeah, i guess. it's just..." gwen sighed again and faced butch. "i'm not gonna lie, dude, it's bad out there. you get shot at, you get chased by randos, you eat 200-year old shit because you can't find fresh food. there's choices, sure, but it's between two shitty choices all the time." she gestured at their surroundings. "but, even with all that... it's loads better than this shithole."

butch whooped. "so you'll help me escape?"

"i'm going to do what amata wants, and that's to get the door open. what you do after that is your business." gwen went to the framed verse on the wall and opened it. "here we go."

butch went to her. she took out a bobby pin and a screwdriver and jimmied the lock, which broke with a small click. the safe opened, and gwen took out a small bag and some schematics. she stuffed both in her battered pack.

"okay, butch, i'm gonna go deal with the overseer," she said, patting his shoulder. "go do... whatever you want. go fucking wild. no one in here, or out there, cares."

"thanks?" butch watched her walk past him. gwen stopped when she got to the door.

"if you do get out, though," she said, "i live in this house in megaton. right at the entrance. you can't miss it. you're - and i can't believe i'm saying this - welcome there."

butch felt warmth bloom in his chest. it felt weird and gross, but not unwelcome. he smiled at her. she smiled back. and then she was gone.