#but eventually he finally fucking got what his mum was trying to say. and realised she was fucking wrong.
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ehhhh how bout a very vaguely supernatural meets ghost fiIes inspired au
neil being raised in hunting and bringing his wife into it and then his newborn son. his wife leaving eventually, becos she couldn't handle it anymore, and she desperately wanted to take her baby boy with her, but he already knew too much, and she couldn't protect him like neil could. she also couldn't protect him from neil, but there were bigger monsters than humans, and after one too many close calls, she leaves.
billy's left in neil's supernatural capable hands.
life on the road with his dad is rough, jumping around from place to place, never being somewhere long enough to call home, no extended family or old family friends to stay at for long hot summers. just him and his dad, his dads hot and cold temper, and the open road. that's all billy knows.
then one day, they're on a hunt, and there's a freshly divorced mother and her hotheaded stubborn daughter, and billy watches as his dad continues to charm them even after they've eradicated the simple ghost, watches as the mum falls for every word and practiced smile, and suddenly it's the four of them on the road.
susan seems weak, looks awkward with a gun in her hands, still jumps at the slightest bump when they're clearing out a house, but neil's patient with her, repeats the steps on how to fire and clean the gun day after day, holds her fucking hand whenever he notices her tensing up, and billy wants to scream.
neil locked billy in the shed of the place they were renting when he was six becos he fumbled the gun. fucking belted him that one time in texas when he accidentally let a monster get away becos he was scared, like billy actively let the fucking thing get away for fun and not becos he was frozen paralysed, listening to it rattle of things that billy knew he'd never said out loud.
his dad never told him it could get into your head.
max is better about it, but still a fucking pain. at least she doesn't seem to be a baby about everything. if billy's being honest, max has handled the transition from normal suburban life to life on the road and hunting monsters like a champ. too bad neil's basically placed her entire wellbeing and care into billy's hands, and the rope billy's felt around his neck his entire life's went from snug to fucking choking.
life goes on though, and eventually billy's old enough to buy his own car, do his own hunts. max rides with him more often than not, mostly out of habit, but also becos she'd pick being stuck with her asshole older step-brother for weeks at a time over spending even just an hour in close quarters with her piece of shit step-dad.
turns out, life on the road with just billy is good. he's like a completely different person when he can breathe without his dad taking up all the air. he's even fun on occasion. actually talks her through what they're hunting, why they're hunting it, lets her actually help.
(she accidentally tripped on a tree root one time on a hunt with the family when she was younger, and one sprained wrist later, she was banned from coming on anymore. she tried to argue it was a simple tree root, and that billy slipped a disc in his spine getting thrown against a brick wall just last month, but neil put his foot down. said susan was worried, and if susan was worried, neil was worried. billy was a big boy, he could walk it off. max was delicate, she had to be kept safe. billy wouldn't even look at her for at least a week after that fight.)
the time between seeing their parents slowly grows longer and longer between each trip the longer they're away. it started off with just a few days off on a side hunt before reuniting within the week, but then the few-days-hunts turned into few-weeks-hunts, and suddenly it felt like they were only seeing their parents for special occasions.
but the longer they were away, the lighter they became. the first time max hears billy refer to her as his sister, no tone, no stressed step sister, just sister, she does a double take. doesn't dare bring it up 'til they get back to the motel they were crashing at. billy rolls his eyes, bitches about not needing to give some fucking random his entire life story.
they bond over hating neil and hating susan's life choices, get competitive over who can figure out the monster of the week first, and turn the other way when one ~accidentally lets a monster get away.
(the first time billy let a monster get away on purpose, he waited up all night, expecting his dad to burst into the room and knock some sense into him. accuse him of being just as monstrous, just another fucking killer, reckless, letting them get away like that. his dad was 6 states away and deep into a hunt of his own, but billy had second guessed his choice since the second he walked away earlier that evening, refreshing the local news site constantly waiting for another body to drop, to prove the voice in his head that sounded exactly like neil right, that he was a failure of a hunter, falling for the sob story and bullshit the monster spilled and pleaded and promised with on what should have been it's last moments.)
(billy knows real monsters though, and despite what his mother said to him in the last memory he has of her, humans were always worse. most things neil taught billy to hunt were harmless. he's trying so fucking hard to teach this to max. to make sure innocent blood never drips from her hands the way it does his.)
anyway: to the ghost fiIes part of this. i think it would be FUN if, in a big Fuck You And Everything You Stand For to his dad, that one time on a hunt, billy's having a casual joyful yelling match with a ghost, and max whips out her phone and records, uploads it to her insta, and one or two people watch.
then one time, theyre trying to get a demon to fuck off, and billy's trying to fucking sales pitch hell to them, like billy's ever even been there, and max whips out her phone again. a few more people watch.
slowly max builds a following. is always careful to frame every video in such a way that monsters stay the stuff of legends, but make it realistic enough that if you know - you know. starts to gradually add herself to this mix. soon, her and billy are going into legitimately haunted houses just to chat to ghosts, record the whole thing, and chuck the best moments up on youtube.
the first time neil sees a clip, sees his son terrorising a ghost - but not in a hunt-to-kill sort of way, but just for jokes, for a laugh sort of way - he drives for three days straight to sort him out in person. gets him up and crowded against the paper thin wall, asking if he thinks it's funny, what ghosts are capable of doing, if he thinks it's a joke, all those people they were too late to save. if he thinks his mother left him, all over a laugh. billy wishes he didn't buckle under the weight, wishes his voice didn't shake when he answered, but he caught max's eye over his dad's shoulder, and she had a gun in one hand, and her knife in the other, and billy's seen her look at poltergeists that have threatened her life more kindly than the way she's looking at neil in the moment. billy gathers what little strength he can pull, juts his chin out and glares as dirty as possible. finds his voice and kicks his dad out of the motel room, managing to shake his dad off in the split second of shock neil has over billy not instantly caving. max echoing billy's demands, telling neil to get the fuck out. to go protect her mother, since he trapped her into a life she'll never be able to survive on her own, and to keep her safe, and to stay the fuck out of theirs.
basically BASICALLY i'm watching ghost fiIes and i just think billy and max in a supernatural world but like, in a fun way, would be GOOD SHIT. and i want billy to still be lowkey scared of ghosts and demons becos he has seen the havoc they can create first hand, the families they can destroy in just a heartbeat, so he's always a little tense attending a haunting, but he goes in every time, becos its all he's ever done, becos max told him on a bad night once that she thought he was brave, and he talks (and yells and screams and mocks and, occasionally, cries) to them and slowly he starts to find himself and get his life together, helping all these fucking trapped and usually scared and also so so so angry ghosts. helps them to the best of his ability. listens to them when they wail. talks to them when they cry. he starts to heal.
max grows, too, having watched something invisible, with no physical form whatsoever, tear her father to shreds, just weeks after the divorce, to driving around the country with her brother, spending nights in houses so haunted it would scare a priest, adjusting to loving her mother from a distance, cos she'll never understand why she fell for the shit neil was offering, why she stuck around, gripping his hand tight, that first time neil lost his shit at billy in front of them. why she continued to hold his hand, going as far as to look the other way, the first time neil laid into her for not getting detailed enough research for a case, blaming her for his broken ribs and her mother's dislocated shoulder. billy silently offering her an ice pack that night in the darkness, wordlessly passing over some pills and a glass of water.
billy made a point to look over her research from then on out, just in case.
max thinks her life could've turned out a whole lot better if her dad never died, if neil and billy never entered it. but she's pretty sure that out of every option she could've had, that the way it is now, her and billy making some silly youtube show, confronting their own nightmares night after night, saving monsters, hunting things, this is the best option.
OKAY literally none of this captured my original thought of billy and max just fucking around in haunted houses and annoying the dead.
max knowing shits real but billy would swear with the way she acts and talks that she thinks it's all horseshit. billy wouldn't even call her brave, she genuinely just doesn't seem to give a fuck. she's got a fuck with Me attitude and billy gets it, okay, if he were already dead, be wouldn't try anything on her either, imagine dying once by falling down an elevator shaft then getting fucking slayed again by a seventeen yr old who failed her learners permit, not once, but twice. billy'd back the fuck off, too.
billy being a lil scared in a extremely fucking haunted houses, knowing full well that demons were real and they were here, in this very room, and max telling him to shut the fuck up whilst pushing him into the portal, aka the closet, and telling him to turn his light off and talk to it. billy, bitching under his breath, you talk to it, but still standing there, light off, stupid little camera on, opening a line of communication. his usual tactic for getting through the night being to raise absolute hell. if he's gonna chill with demons, the dead, and inter-dimensional freaks all night, he was gonna make sure they were just as fucked up about him as he was them.
feel like this STILL doesn't capture what i was originally going for but anyway if u watch ghost fiIes you Know. thank you for reading if you've made it this far also sincerest apologies for whatever the fuck this is
#i do NOT know.#i just think ghost fiIes is fun and itd be funner if we ever found out that they DID have a full on encounter#they just decided not to air it to KeEp iT LiGhT etc#and also i just think that spinning the wheel on what backstory of childhood trauma we can bend to shape around billy and max is Necessary#billy hating his father but also. its his dad. and he had an isolated childhood that kept him relient. so he hates his dad but his dad#really is all he's ever known. hard to hate somewhere with the full feeling when you don't really know any different#someone*#he resents his mother. mainly for leaving. for using the excuse that it wasnt safe for her to stay but it wasnt safe for him to go.#resents her for trying to convince him that neil wasnt the scariest thing in the world. that there was more to fear.#when he KNOWS that thats not true. it took him a while to see it. took a hellva lot of growing up and wising uo#wising up*#but eventually he finally fucking got what his mum was trying to say. and realised she was fucking wrong.#MAX being just as fucked up about everything as billy is except shes better at processing it. doesnt have an entire childhood to drag#her down and fuck her up. alls she knows is that her parents got divorced. the custody battle got messy. then suddenly her dad was dead#blood everywhere and her mum was a wreck and terrified.#then suddenly the world got a whole lot bigger yet shrunk down to just one car and four passengers#and life was never the same again#(she was never as brave as billy thought she was. she just never got to experience the horrors he had. never been walked away from#a sprained wrist here and a cut to the cheek there. some nasty bruises every other week. but she was never in any real danger.#im too tired now and none of this is what im trying to say ugh Anyway. stream ghost fiIes. stan billy & max. thanku#m#nqff
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h’s last night.
npg (or npc as she said) fun but friends vibes, greggs and walking around - nice we can walk for hours and not run out of things to say. i don’t even remember what we spoke about on way back via archway.
i love the neighbourhood. oh to live there eventually. small world that she’s so close to where we lived.
stopped by her mums house for her to get me her suetonius (gift from olivia to her originally 💀), i met jordan peterson the huge cat. nice house.
the apartment was cute, small, dad vibes. i liked the balcony. her dad was interesting to meet (unofficially)- hulkingly tall new zealander who came home drunk and offered to make us breakfast
someone gifted him biltong at his work xmas party. i like the way he talks to h.
she made her bbq sauce quesadilla thing, i had toast. headache due to dehydration but lay on sofa spooning/always lying on one another.
watched bridget jones 2 (classic) and then 2 eps of crown- princess margaret’s death made me CRY. was wondering if we would get intimate but decided to let her make the moves. i liked that i was comfortable to let the night take its course.
uquizzes and pinterest stalking in bed. blue moon cup which she got me full of water. snapping lucy and giggling. cuddling. just as we started to get bored i did a quiz where i said i liked her nose. it’s asymmetric, she said. i got close to look and we started to kiss.
fuck she is hot. it’s not often that i can get turned on just lying next to someone imagining what we could do to each other. i’m so glad she likes grinding making out like i do. the skin against skin, needy movements.
when i’d come and we were gna do more, just as i was taking her shirt off, dad arrived home earlier than expected
lots of for fucks sakes etc. funny but irritating.
cuddling and more chatting. time wasting.
then we got again eventually. i really enjoyed it; sex w her isn’t stressful. her fingers on my clit didnt feel amazing, a bit jabby, but fuck were they good inside me. lips on neck, lips on her tits.
my favourite memory is her hands sliding into my pants and her giving a little gasp. she told me how wet i was. i’m not surprised. i fingered her too, rough and intense. we were so tangled up in each other that sometimes i couldn’t get the right angle but it was so good it didn’t matter. at one point we were fingering one another at the same time.
we had to try not to be loud, and sometimes she had to cover my mouth even. she choked me while i touched her. i love to look in her eyes while we’re making out, while we’re fucking each other. the occasional glance at her face while we adjust our stupid hair.
we stopped eventually bc it was loud and her dad was around. she said later that she wished her dad hadn’t shown up tho- nice to know she wanted more.
naked cuddling as per. she has the most gorgeous body i’ve ever seen and i love to hold her. i love her holding me.
funny mix of coupley and casual. this girl made sure if we saw each other again it wasn’t romantic (applause for good communication) but imagine lying in bed w her as the big spoon and feeling her randomly reach in to plant little kisses on my back, my shoulders, top of my head.
she said that she would have made out w me when she came to visit at somerville. me too, i realised. and at rag ball she said- tho i wouldn’t have then, i was genuinely angry, unless she initiated.
we spent some time going over old ground, talking abt how things went between us etc.
but it was all easy, playful even. i said, and i think it’s true, that im so much more relaxed about her now.
as we finally got to bed, 330isj after much delay, she kept breaking sleepy silence with little comments or giggles to herself which i asked about. i didn’t want her to stop talking. a couple of typical hannah things - like oh you want to do this every so often to get rid of your touch starved-ness etc. a little annoying but i don’t even mind really. i felt very content, and tho the not romantic clarification stung a tiny bit i just really enjoyed the moment of lying together.
nights sleep was broken but nice, as it is when you’re topless and cuddling. woke up exhausted w time to kill so spent an hour in bed watching reels, then had toast and took off.
kissed before leaving, but what struck me was the massive tight hug i got. i hope not too aggressively friendzoney? i got the ‘see you at uni’ line. but truly the evening was amazing. if we can do sth like that every once in a while i’d be happy. friends w bens would suit me, even if i walked away feeling more for her than i’m supposed to.
cute texting this pm- come back, i miss you in my bed, my personal heater etc. it makes me feel nice. i’m sad it’s over. Even if, as emmy said, i cant give her all my trust.
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I’m gonna rant for a bit, because after thinking about it for a solid 1 minute Supernatural had so much potential to make Sam and Dean’s relationship with Mary extremely strange, but in a “I just came back from the dead and to a world I don’t know, I cannot handle being a mom to 2 grown adults who are older than me so actually we’re siblings now” kind of way. Hear me out.
Just... imagine. You’re 29, you have 2 sons, one who’s 4-years-old and the other who is only 6 months. You die. 33 years later, you’re alive again but you’re still 29, and you’re faced with your 2 now adult sons, one who is now 8 years older than you, and the other 4 years older. Your sons are literally now older than you. They have experienced life for longer than you have. Your oldest has wrinkles and you don’t. How fucking weird is that!!
Just the... complexity that kind of relationship would have. I did love how they approached Mary in the show, how they had Dean confront her and how we later find out that Amara brought her back just so Dean could face reality and not paint his mum as a saint but like... it could’ve been so much more weird. That kind of situation just calls for weird.
That scene where Mary ordered them dinner should have been so much more awkward and not as comfortable and light-hearted as it was. What if Mary just outright told them “I don’t cook” and they’re like “uh... okay, well, we could order?” and she perks up like “order?” and she’s thinking oh cool they’ll just call the nearest pizza place but no, her sons pull out a mobile phone and they try to teach her how to use the app but she just gets frustrated and doesn’t get it so they give up, Dean orders and they spend the time waiting teaching her how to use a phone. And okay kids are usually teaching their parents how to use technology but this is just weird because her sons are older than her. Then the food gets there and she’s like “why don’t I serve it?” because that’s what mothers do, right? But it feels weird and awkward and wrong because they’re grown men so she shouldn’t have to mother them, right? And they eat in silence and it’s so fucking awkward and all of them know it’s awkward and after a moment Mary goes “... Dean, do you uh... do you still like pie?” and he says yes and it’s a huge fucking relief but at the same time it’s fucking not because that’s all she knows!! that’s all she knows about her son and thank fuck he still likes pie but that’s all she knows.
And just- Mary having a full breakdown because she always wanted to be a mother, that’s all she wanted. She just wanted to drop the hunter life and be a mother and just live a normal fucking life for once and she can’t. She can’t. That life was ripped away from her and now her sons are adults and older than her and she didn’t raise them and they’re hunters and she’s a hunter again and she can’t be a mother. Her sons are hunters and she never wanted that and it makes her nauseous and makes her head hurt. And Sam and Dean find her sobbing in one of the bathrooms next to the toilet and they hold her close until she stops shaking. They comfort her because she can’t comfort them. She only knows how to be a mother to a 4-year-old and a baby, she can’t be a mother to them.
And you know what? Sam and Dean are oddly okay with that. All they wanted growing up was a mother to care for them, to cook them food and be there to hold them when things got bad. But now that they have their mother in front of them? They realise that they don’t really... need her. Not Mary sepcifically, but just a mother. They’ve survived the past 33 years without a mother, and sure it was shitty but it happened and they’re used to it. They’re grown men, they don’t need a mother. Sure, it would’ve been nice but when Mary tried again the next day by making them scrambled eggs with a forced smile they just cringed. They don’t need a mother. It sucks, and they wish so bad that they had one growing up, maybe things would’ve been better, but they’ve dealt with this for the past 33 years and they’re good.
So, okay, she’s not their mum. She is, but she’s not. Really, they’re just strangers trying to get to know each other. And so they do. They spend time together, so much they eventually become insperable. Not in a separation anxiety kind of way, but when Mary isn’t desperately trying to play the mother role the three just click and make a kickass team. They can’t call her “mom” in public because she obviously looks younger than them so when they’re out shopping or anywhere else they just call her Mary and introduce her as their sister. It works, it’s believable because they look related, they are, but no one blinks when they refer to her as a sister.
And eventually they stop calling her “mom” and start just calling her Mary. And “mom” becomes a rare word, a word used in dark moments where one of them is frantically putting pressure on a wound that won’t stop bleeding, or when Mary finally breaks free of the British Men of Letters’ brainwashing. But one day Dean takes a sip from a beer, puts it down and is quiet for a moment before saying “... I think we’ve accidentally adopted our mom as our sister” and Sam just goes “yep” and cue John Mulaney ‘you know those days when you’re like “this might as well happen”? adult life is already so goddamn weird’ and it’s just. that just becomes their dynamic.
She’s not their mum, they’re not her sons, so the relationship dynamic they adopt is siblings. And the concept is so fucking weird but it feels more normal to them than her being their mum. She’s just now their little sister and they’re her big brothers and it’s like “huh. okay. didn’t expect this to happen but okay”
Like it’s STRANGE but I think their situation calls for it!! This is SUPERNATURAL!! Let it be fucking weird!! She’s their mum but no! Now she’s their little sister!! Imagine the humor opportunities!
Mary starts to date and she dates a hunter who isn’t aware of the situation and it’s like Sam and Dean act like protective older brothers and give the person the “you hurt her she’ll hurt you, good luck” talk but also
Hunter: so... ever thought of settling down and having kids?
Mary, immediately panicking like should she tell them?? is this an appropriate topic to introduce on the third date? she can’t even wikihow this! she tried and nothing came up!: uhhhh
And also after Jack is born and I’m just gonna sprinkle some baby!jack AU in this, after Dean is like *points to Jack* this is my son and *points to Cas* this is my husband Mary’s like
Mary: damn... I’m a 30-year-old grandmother. I don’t wanna be a 30-year-old grandmother
Sam: technically you’re 63
Mary: technically I died when I was 29, was dead for 33 years, got brought back to life and was still 29 so you can shut your face I’m a 30-year-old grandmother
Dean: I thought we all agreed you’re more like our sister
Mary: not when it comes to being a grandmother. I can’t handle being your mom but I can certainly handle being Jack’s grandma
Cas: I’m confused... I thought you just said you don’t want to be a grandmother
Mary, holding Jack up: I’m a grandma now
#it's like doctor who 'my childhood best friend is actually my daughter' levels of weird#catch Mary up at 3am frantically googling 'how do I tell my partner that my brothers are actually my sons and I'm technically 64'#spn#supernatural#mary winchester#sam winchester#dean winchester#castiel#jack kline#destiel#??? I mean I mention it so#long post#also I guess?? there's lots of words I'm sorry
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Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)
aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow
Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...
Content | Fluff
Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano
Word count | 7111
Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily
***
The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.
He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.
The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.
His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.
He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.
“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.
Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.
Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.
Fuck, what happened?
“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.
When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.
It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.
The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.
“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”
“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.
“What do you want anyway?”
“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”
Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.
***
“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.
As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.
“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.
“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.
Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.
Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.
“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.
“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.
Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.
Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.
Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.
***
Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.
"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.
I could fall asleep like this - fuck…
She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.
“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.
***
Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.
“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”
Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.
“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”
Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.
“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”
He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.
“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”
His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.
“To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”
His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?
“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”
Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.
“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”
Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.
***
That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…
***
The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.
It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.
And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.
He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.
During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.
“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”
Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.
Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.
***
After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.
“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.
“As if I could say no to you.”
***
“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.
“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”
“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”
“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.
“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”
“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”
“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”
“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”
“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.
“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”
“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.
“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”
Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.
Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”
“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”
Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”
“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.
“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.
“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”
“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”
“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”
“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.
***
So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.
Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.
Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“Hey there, Juliet.”
The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.
“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”
Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.
“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”
“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”
Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.
“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.
“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.
“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”
For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.
“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.
“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.
“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.
“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”
“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.
“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.
“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.
Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”
Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.
Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”
“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.
He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”
“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.
Amore mio...
#maneskin fiction#damiano david fiction#damiano david imagine#damiano david x you#ethan torchio x reader#maneskin imagine#maneskin x you#maneskin x reader#thomas raggi x reader#damiano david x reader#writers block#bethanysnow#quiet music
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Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3
thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are
warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )
^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots
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“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.
“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.
“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”
You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.
You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.
He must really really be unhappy.
You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.
This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.
Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.
And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.
Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.
But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).
“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.
“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”
“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”
“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”
You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.
Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.
“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.
He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.
Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.
It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.
“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.
“Hello?”
“Harry it’s me”
“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.
“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”
“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.
“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”
“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.
“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”
“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”
“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”
“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”
“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.
Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”
Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“
“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“
“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.
With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.
“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“
“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”
“You live across the road.”
“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.
The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.
There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.
“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”
“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.
“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.
“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”
~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~
tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala
#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland blurb#harry holland#tom holland fic#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland angst#peter parker
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I don't know if you're taking requests but your smut with Michael and virgin reader was MINDBLOWING and perfect and I wonder would you write a thing like that with Tommy, too? If not it's fine of course ;)
I kinda have an oneshot already like that, but here’s a little extra ;)
warnings: virgin reader, smutt (minors don't interact!), fingering, fluff.
The first time you saw Michael, it was in a club in London, your girlfriends dragged you in. They’ve been insisting since you were the only one left who never got drunk before turning 20 years old. And even though you assured them that you could have fun without drinking, you followed them and got drunk. The night was crazy and the drinks flowing. You looked for a partner to dance with and you saw him. Starring at you. And all of a sudden, everything went quiet around you. His piercing eyes sobered you up as you walked towards him.
“H-hello” you stammered.
“Good evening” he respond much more confident than you, taking your hand in his to lightly kiss the top of it. You watched him in awe, feeling little tickles where he lingered his lips on your hand.
“D’you want to dance ? With m-me ?” you managed to say.
“With pleasure”. He led you to the dance floor, pushing away all of the other dancers.
He stood before you and gently pulled you against him with his hand on your back. With his other palm on yours, he started spinning you two delicately, taking his time.
“What’s your name ?” he asked, his hot breath fanning your lips.
“Oh yes, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself... I-I’m Y/N” you felt your cheeks heating up, and you wished he wouldn’t see it.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Michael” he smiled.
“Michael” you repeated as if you wanted to imbibe it. You felt his body stiffening lightly.
“I like the sound of my name on your lips”. If your cheeks were not already pink, now they were definitely red. You both continued to dance while starring at each other, and smiling and feeling your heartbeats grow faster the more the other was talking.
“Y/N we need to go !” one of your friend interrupted.
“What ? What’s happening ?” you panicked.
“Mary is too drunk, she’s starting to go insane ! Let’s go !” she started to pull on your hand, as you reached for Michael’s.
“I’m so sorry-”
“It’s alright love, where do you live ?” he hastened to ask, seeing you slowly walked away, dragged by your friend.
“I just moved to Birmingham, find me !” you responded as you let go of his hand.
“I will” Michael muttered to himself. And he did. A couple of days later, he found you in your favourite boutique, shopping for a new pair of gloves. That’s when you knew that you both had something special.
Now it’s been eight months that you are in a relationship and everything was perfect. Well, almost. You never had sex with him. Or with anyone else actually. You keep pushing this moment because you feel too different from Michael. You know what he and his family do for a living, and even though it doesn’t scare you, you still feel like you come from two completely different worlds. So you thought that once you two will make love, he’ll go. Yes, it is silly, because if it was the case, Michael would have never stayed this long with you, and he would never say the sweetest things he says to you everyday, that make you feel loved and special.
But tonight was a big night. It was his birthday and you finally built yourself up to talk to him and maybe, if he agrees, have sex. You put your nicest gown - actually the one he bought you on your birthday - and joined him in the living room, where he was waited for you. Sipping on his beloved whisky, Michael turned to see you walking through the door. Suddenly, the room was more luminous, and his soul at peace, thanks to your presence.
“Y/N, darling, you look stunning” he complimented you, taking your hands in his. You smiled bright as he made you twirl to look at you.
“Happy birthday Michael” you softly said, deposing a light kiss on his lips.
“It really is” he smirked, sliding on the silk of your dress his hands on your lower back, and kissing you. “We should go, I don’t want my mum to murder us on my birthday” he chuckled and so did you.
The evening was perfect as usual. Full of champagne, good food, and excellent company. Michael never stopped touching you, wether it was by resting his hand on your thigh, or kissing your cheek, or lacing your fingers together. He simply couldn’t let you go.
The night came eventually to an end, and after wishing everybody a goodnight, Michael and you drove home. Your laughters broke the deadly silence of the house, as you climbed up to your bedroom. Michael held you in his arms kissing you.
“You looked so beautiful tonight, Y/N” he whispered against your lips, and you felt your heart beating faster. Your skin was hot and your mind going crazy. “You always look so beautiful” he continued, deposing light traces of lips on your neck, earning from you a whimper.
“Michael...” you exhaled. “I want you” he stopped his movements and looked at you in the eyes.
“What did you say ?”
Feeling suddenly very insecure you tried to brush it away “I-I don’t know, it was stupid, never mind-” you were cut by the crash of his mouth on yours and you fell for it again.
“Y/N, what did you say ?” he repeated his question. You understood that there was no reason to hide. Not in front of him.
“I s-said... I love you” you laced your arms around his neck and continued “and I want you. Like I never had you before.” You felt Michael’s heart knocking on your chest, his eyes glistening in the small lights of the room.
“I love you too, honey. Are you sure you’re ready ?” he cupped your warm face in his hands, trying to transfer all the love he has for you in his touch. And you felt it. You nodded confidently before kissing him again. This time, the kiss got heated, stronger and stronger. Hands sliding on each other body for the first time this way, discovering places they never been to.
“Did you ever touch yourself, love ?” he asked out of breath. You nodded shyly.
“Nights I couldn’t be with you... I was missing you and thinking about you, so I, um,.. tried things” Michael grunted at your confessions.
“And did you enjoy it ? What did you do ?” he attacked back your neck, sucking sensually on your sweet spot, causing you to not be able to answer for a couple of seconds.
“I-I slid my hands between my thighs and played with m-my...”
“Clit ?” he guessed. You hummed confirming it. “Um, good. Did you slid your pretty little fingers in you ?”
You shook your head no “I was too scared.”
After a few seconds, Michael cupped your face, swiping lightly your bottom lip “would you let me do that ?” exhaling a shaky breath you moaned, saying yes. “please, I need to hear it, loud and clear. Do you want me to finger you ?”
“Yes. Yes, Michael I want you to finger me. Please...” you whispered like a pray the last word.
This was all Michael needed to lead to the bed while taking off your dress and your bra. He laid you down gently, his lips never leaving your skin. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m already loosing my mind.” his hands slid past your breast after giving it a light squeeze, on your stomach, your waist and everywhere he could feel you.
He then reached your panties resting his fingers on top them. “Are you okay with this ?”
“More than okay” you moaned and he chuckled.
“If I do something wrong, I hurt you or you want to stop, tell me. Never hesitate. Do you hear me, baby ?”
“I will, but Michael I trust you.” you cupped his face and stared in his eyes with all the love you could possibly collect. He kissed you adoringly before taking off your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him.
His fingers spread your lips and collected your wetness earning from you both moans and grunts. “Fuck, doll, I can’t wait to make this pussy mine”. Michael started to play with your clit just you can relax and realise how much of an expert he already is. You quickly turned into a moaning mess, holding onto his biceps. “That’s it, Y/N baby, let yourself go. I’m right here”
“Um, Michael,...”
“Yes, love ?” he kissed your cheek.
“You can.. can you put your fingers in me ?” you whimpered.
“Fuck, yes” slowly he guided his middle finger to your entrance and pushed inside. The feeling was odd first but than Michael started to pump delicately and it transformed in pure pleasure. “Love, you feel so warm and tight, fuck, I can’t wait to have my dick inside that pretty pussy of yours”
Michael played with both your clit and vagina in order to build your orgasm, which was quick to arrive. You felt this sensual sweetness coming, the same one you have when you were alone thinking about your lover.
“Mike, I’m gonna-” but before you could released your orgasm, Michael took his fingers away from your pussy. Confused, you looked at him with big eyes.
“Don’t worry baby, I just want to make you cum with you around my dick” he smirked. He took his clothes off, while you watched him in awe. He was magnificent. Slightly glowing because of the thin layer of sweat on his torso. He pushed his pants down, leaving him in just his underwear. “Do you want to take it off ?” he proposed. You swallowed and nodded eagerly. “Alright, come here” he chuckled.
You got closer to him on the mattress and he took your hands in his, to place them on his abs. He then let them do whatever you wanted. And what you wanted was to see him as naked as you were. So you pushed his underpants, freeing his shaft. You both stopped breathing, knowing what was coming next. Michael did the first move and leaned over you.
“We can stop if you want, darling. There’s no rush.” he whispered before kissing you. “I already had the best birthday ever” he chuckled and so did you. But your were determined (and horny).
“No I want this Michael, I want this so much” you responded pulling his face closer. He smiled and pushed you delicately on the mattress.
“You have the most beautiful body in the whole fucking world, princess” he worshipped you between kisses “I’m so fucking lucky”. Your hands wandered over his back and torso, discovering his body like you never did before.
“I think I’m getting addicted to you, Michael”
“That’s an excellent thing, darling.” he chuckled. He continued kissing before adjusting his position above you. “Are you ready ?” he locked his eyes on your and waited your response.
“Yes, baby” you said in a shaky breath. Michael nodded and slowly entered you. As he grunted and you moaned, you tried to not think of the slight pain. Michael didn’t move for a few seconds to let you adjust, but you thought that with movements the pain would fade. And it did. The pleasure replaced the discomfort and all you could think about was how full you felt.
“You’re so snugged around my cock baby doll, fuck, it feels so good” Michael grunted in your ear, sending you shivers. “So tight and wet, shit”. You couldn’t respond to anything, too overwhelmed by all those new feelings. Your heart grew bigger with every thrusts Michael made. You were so happy to share this part of you with him.
“I can’t believe I’m your first one, baby. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to be your only ever.” he smirked and felt your walls clench. “Oh you like this idea don’t you naughty girl ? You want me to be yours forever uh ?”
“Yes !” you screamed finally abled to let out another sound than your moans. “B-be mine, and I’ll be -fuck- yours” his body tensed and his thrust became more frantic yet not rough, too scared to hurt you. Never the less, you felt your orgasm building in you. “Michael I’m-”
“I know love, I feel it. I feel you. Cum for me princess and be mine. Do it, I’m right here” you shut your eyes and digged your nails in the flesh of his muscular back, holding on to whatever you could. You let your pleasure wash over you, welcoming it for the first time. Your moans and whimpers pushed Michael to chase his on orgasm. He pulled out quickly but was careful not to hurt you, and started to pump himself.
“Can I cum on your stomach baby ?” he asked, his voice cracking. You nodded, eager to finally see him undone. His pumps became quicker until he released his load on you with a loud grunt. His seed landed on your belly and you jolted feeling the odd warm texture. When he finished you didn’t hesitate and collected his cum with your fingertips. Michael was panting as he watched you amazed by this new side of you. This side that was discovering what two lovers could do. You wrapped your lips around your fingers and tasted his juice. It was salty and like no other thing, but that only made you even more greedy for it. It was Michael. “You’re already starting to turn into a good girl, baby. I don’t know if it’ll be necessary for me to teach you anything” he chuckled before using his shirt to take off the rest of his cum from your body. He laid on the bed and pulled you close to his chest.
“Thank you for being my first Michael.” you whispered drawing circles on his peck as you listened to his heartbeat calming down.
“Truly my dear, it was my pleasure” he smiled against the top of your head. “Thank you for giving me that part of you. I love you so much”
“You have all parts of me Michael, I love you too.” you lifted your head and kissed his lips tenderly.
“I’m yours, Y/N, forever. I found you, I won’t let you go” he kissed you back before you both fell asleep, your bodies tangled, forming one soul, forever.
#Michael gray x reader#Michael Gray imagine#Michael gray smut#micheal gray#peaky blinder fanfic#michael gray request#ask request#Michael gray fluff#michael gray one shot
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natasha romanoff x reader - high school au headcanons!
warnings; cheating, swearing & mild violence
a/n; i apologise if the format is confusing !! it’s my first time doing headcanons but i went on a binge of lesbian-deadpool ‘s headcanons and when i saw her hs!nat posts my mind went brrrr so i hope y’all enjoy, it’s pretty fluffy i think (spoiler; neither nat or reader is the one who cheats)
- you being besties with wanda , literally attached at the hip since middle school and no one can seperate yall
- wanda teasing you about your crush on natasha that you had since the literal first week of high school (you end up teasing her when she eventually crushes on jarvis)
- but! bruce and nat started dating a couple months into your first year
- you were jealous but obviously couldn’t do anyth about it because you and natasha weren’t even friends (you just shared a couple classes together and were seat buddies)
- that’s how you ended up finally getting to know natasha though because you were in a friend group with wanda jarvis pietro and bruce (only wanda knew about your crush)
- natasha joins yall sometimes when y’all hang out
- after you and natasha were paired for a project you become closer friends as well as each other’s study buddies. both your groups - bruce wanda jarvis pietro and clint steve bucky - end up becoming friends and you make one huge group together
- but then first day of your second year, she just dips , ignores you and your group so everyone is like ??? her whole group of friends also just start ignoring y’all too
- bcs wanda, jarvis & pietro had gotten pretty close to the rest , yall got worried but bruce refused to say anyth
- you end up confronting clint
- “clint, do you know what’s up with natasha? she-“
- “oh so now you decide to care about her?!” cue really angry rant about how nat has been crying a lot and upset and it’s all his fault but youre just like wait what
- “clint i don’t know what you’re talking about?”
- he doesn’t stop though- “and to think she actually enjoyed all of your company but after what he did you still chose him”
- after he gets it all out of his system he FINALLY listens and that’s when you tell him that bruce hasn’t told you anything at all. but he doesn’t believe you and leaves
- soooo. you confront bruce
- and he confesses that he was cheating on natasha during the summer. she found out and she broke it off
- and boy oh boy OH FUCKIN BOY, you were pissed
- you went off at him, berating him, scolding him and just gave him and earful.
- then HE GOT MAD?? trying to make excuses for his behaviour and you just got even angrier and it got physical.
- afterwards you went to wanda and pietro’s house and told them as well as jarvis what happened. they got angry too and y’all just decided unanimously to drop him as a friend.
- the next day was the weekend so you went to grab some snacks and icecream (all of her favourites, things you noted when y’all studied together) and headed to her house
- she was surprised to see you there with what you dubbed a care package, and of course with an apology
- you explained that the three of you didn’t know what bruce did, that you had confronted him about it and that you were no longer his friends. you passed her the snacks and told her that you hoped the rest of you (minus bruce) could still be friends before quickly leaving , not wanting to overstay your welcome
- it took her a while but eventually yall went back to being friends and it was a huge group of y’all again. all of you were mad at bruce and just ignored him a lot (sorry canon bruce)
- nat ended up confiding in you when she was ready to talk about whatever happended with bruce. you held her when she cried and assured her that it was never her fault that he did what he did. you were always there to provide a lot of snacks, hugs and comfort.
- you still had feelings for her yes , but you never did anything knowing that it just simply wasn’t the right time. you did everything you did as a friend and nothing more
- unconsciously you ended up doing things for and with her that you wouldn’t do with anyone else.
- nat noticed it, but honestly just thought you were being friendly so she tried to ignore her growing feelings, worried that you didn’t feel the same
- butttt wanda is nosey and so is clint so the two of them start scheming to get yall together once they realise the feelings were mutual
- they ended up roping in everyone and all of them are supportive because they see how well you treat nat and how she’s slowly opening up to you
- but before they can actually do it, something goes downnn
- it’s the first day of summer after second year ended and y’all go bowling as a group but bruce happens to be there
- he approaches you guys, wanting to talk to natasha but as soon as you see him coming you just, poof, appear right next to natasha and glare at him
- now, no one knows what you did to him that day..
- “please i just want to talk to natasha” - bruce
- natasha really doesn’t want to though but he keeps trying to insist
- you step in, asking him to leave but he just tells you back off and attempts to grab natasha but you grab his wrist and push him back
- “she doesn’t want to talk to you banner so kindly fuck off. do you really want a repeat of last time?”
- bruce visibly shrinks back at that threat and hurried away quickly.
- so now the rest of the group is like .. “what the fuck happened last time” you just kinda shrug and say you beat him up. just a little (not really you beat him up quite abit and ratted him out to his mum)
- then they realise why bruce didn’t come to school for a week after you went to confront him.
- and natasha asks if that was why your knuckles were bandaged when you had come over with your care package.
- “you told us you went to the gym after meeting bruce!” - pietro
- “well clearly she lied, but still i’m glad you put him in his place” - wanda aka your proud bestie (who is also shocked bcs you’re never violent..)
- then clint jokes that jarvis better not hurt wanda or he’d be at the receiving end of it and you give a smile to jarvis who kinda just. stares back at u nervously.
- afterwards the rest of the team disperses, each couple going on a date ( even pietro got a date ! ) so you take natasha out and you guys talk and confess
- of course y’all start dating and the whole summer is just perfect.
- so many dates, so many road trips ..
- y’all end up being the high school sweethearts that get married!! everyday you’re thankful that you met her and that she chose to spend her life with you :]
#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff headcanons#high school au#marvel#avengers#avengers x reader#natasha romanoff#black widow#black widow x reader
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♡My Prison Pen Pal♡
Helmut Zemo x reader
Word count: 1,802
Warnings: swearing, mentions of prison and crimes and slight angst to do with his family
A/N: its finally here! I havent writen a fic in a long time so hopefully you guys like this! I tried to avoid using idioms and things like that but message me if you need anything explained or reworded as I know most people aren't native English speakers
@sorcerersofnyc
♡♡♡
His first letter came during the series finale of your favourite show. A rather inconvenient moment, you thought, so it stayed on the welcome mat until you passed through the hall on your way to bed. Picking it up, you figured you'd skim the first few lines then finish it and write a reply before work. Instead, you found yourself writing and rewriting a reply through the night. Somehow this man had managed to enthrall you with only a letter. Maybe it was the way he wrote as if he was some elegant poet whose sonnets would one day be hailed as classics. How he managed to be open and expressive, exuding a welcoming aura, and yet still seeming mysterious. Or perhaps it was simply fated by the stars that Helmut Zemo would capture your heart.
You waited anxiously for his second letter to arrive. After sending the first, you hadn't cared whether you got a response, the whole thing seemed like a bad idea to you. But your mother was insistent that you needed to meet new people and this way you wouldn't need to worry about awkward face to face conversations. Sending the first letter felt like any other chore you do in the day, done with much effort and resignment but forgotten within minutes. But the second? It felt like the most important thing you'd done in a long time. You'd even bought a first class stamp (not that it makes a difference).
You wanted to know more about this intriguing man. No, supervillain. Charged with international terrorism. Jesus christ what the fuck was wrong with you? Were you really falling in love with a supervillain after one letter? But he didn't seem evil to you. He wrote eloquently, somehow his simple and brief description of his day (he'd started reading a new psychology book, you'd have to send him some recommendations) sounded fascinating in his words.
Over time, you started to notice small things about Helmut. The way he crossed his t's, how he signed his name, but mainly that there was a romanticism to his writing. From the way he described his home, his wife, his son to his recipes for Sokovian dishes with small notes and doodles (your favourite was his shepherd's pie recipe where he helpfully noted his mother's assertion that you should always add more than you think you need). It was becoming clear to you that he wasn't the stoic and vengeful baron you expected but rather a soft, lonely and endearingly weird man who you couldn't imagine plotting to destroy the Avengers. Whilst it was his mystery that first captivated you, it was his sweet and sometimes awkward personality that convinced you to keep writing.
It took a while for Helmut to tell you about his family. You had heard on the news back when he first arrested about his motive, so you were interested to hear his perspective on his crimes. But that wasn't what you got. Instead, he told you about when he and his father used to play football when he was young and how they would play a match every time he visited, with Helmut playing against his father and son, who always wanted to play with grandfather. He told you of the songs his wife used to sing, how her voice was always loud and shaky and after years of singing somewhere over the rainbow she would still forget the lyrics and invent her own. He told you how his son was the best pianist he had ever heard. How he could play the greatest rendition of amazing grace and that he had just learnt the theme from swan lake. That he had been excited to practice it on his grandfathers grand piano the day Ultron attacked.
There was something so human about this man. His love for his family, his loss and grief, his plan to avenge his family, it was all so tragic and yet here he was sending you drawings of the flowers from his garden growing up. You wanted to hug him and yet sometimes you felt he wouldn't need it, wouldn't want it. You were wrong.
Helmut Zemo missed his family. He told you so in one of his most recent letters. He missed holding his son, brushing his wife's hair, going for long drives, waking up at 2am to comfort his son, early morning trips to the shops, cleaning up after dinner, helping with homework. Everything he listed seemed so trivial, so meaningless in the grand scheme of life and yet the memories meant so much to him.
You realised then you had never pitied him before. Not that he wasn't deserving of it, just that he didn't seem to need it. But overtime you realised that what Helmut had really needed wasn't revenge or to make a world free from superhumans, it was someone to talk to. Someone to trust. Someone who would understand his pain and not judge it. Perhaps, you thought to yourself, you could be that person.
Fuck.
You couldn't think of how to cope with this. No one you knew had ever mentioned falling in love with a criminal through letters. And as hard as you tried you hadn't been able to find a single romcom with this plot line. You couldn't tell him. You imagined with his seemingly fragile state of mind receiving from basically a stranger professing their love would at best cause him to ghost you. Especially after he confided in you, shared his thoughts and memories.
So instead you continued as normal. You sent him pressed flowers and pictures of your favourite places. Eventually, he asked what looked like, and you spent an hour trying to decide whether you should send a picture of yourself or to just vaguely describe your features. After deciding to send a picture of yourself on holiday a few months before the blip, you found yourself wondering what he'd do with it. Would he throw it away as soon as he got the letter or would he keep it, tuck it away in some book to look at whilst thinking of you?
You also found yourself wondering what he looked like in the real world. You had found pictures of him online, but they didn't feel real. He was never rarely happy. The pictures pre Ultron were clearly taken by paparazzi, so you weren't surprised he rarely looked anything other than annoyed. There were a few though, ones with his wife and son, where he clearly hadn't noticed, and some from when he was much younger and seemed to enjoy the attention. Then were those taken after his arrest.
And so you continued to wonder he looked like. How he looked in the morning, with flowers in his hair or in summer with the sun lighting his face. You wondered what his hair looked like wet, if he ever scrunched his nose in disgust. You wondered what his smile was like.
Over time, you told him more about yourself. The stress of returning home after the blip to no job, no house and your friends 5 years older. Your ex was married with kids and your sister had moved abroad. It was as if you blinked and your whole life had changed. You mentioned how it was your mum who had suggested getting a pen pal, so you could talk to someone new, who was living a different life to you, although she had meant someone in a different country not jail. Since coming back you'd been isolated and stressed with starting a new job, recovering lost information and personal belongings and moving house, so you had thought it might be good to speak to someone who didn't know you, who couldn't judge you. You told Helmut how it had been good, how writing to him had helped you, how he had helped you more than he could ever know.
No, that sounded creepy. How you appreciated his letters.
Too formal. How you hadn't expected to become his friend, but you were glad to be able to say you were.
Helmut was comforting. You knew in your head that your meeting on Friday was nothing to worry about but seeing him say it felt so reassuring. Each one of his letters made you feel relaxed, feel safe. You wanted to make him feel the same. So, as a way to repay his kindness you had told him that no matter what happened, he could always trust you. And it was true. You couldn't imagine a world where you wouldn't do anything for Helmut and although you knew he would never need it, you still wanted him to know you would always care about him, even if no one else did.
Writing to him had become as easy as talking to someone you'd known all your life. You had fallen into an easy routine, you knew when to expect his letters and you knew when you'd send a reply. The routine felt so natural that you even knew what the envelope would look like, always the same off-white with a square edged flap. The address was always the same too. Except on his last letter. Which was strange.
At first, you thought Helmut had been moved to a different prison but after frantically typing the address into Google Maps you realised it was not a prison. Fuck you had no idea what it was, but it wasn't a prison. It also wasn't in Germany.
You sat still, staring at the unopened letter for a few minutes.
You looked up at the door. You thought you heard someone knock. The post had already come and you weren't expecting people. Hell, there wasn't anyone other than your parents who would visit anyway and they would have called first. Now you were sat still, staring at the front door.
"I know you're in there, the lights are on."
It was as if you were a marionette, being moved by some strange force that was slowly pulling you out of your seat and towards the door. You didn't even register that you moved until you felt the door handle on your fingertips. The cold metal caused you to stop, as if broken out of a trance. There was a sudden realisation that if you opened the door your life would never be the same. It was sickening, a mixture of dread and excitement; it reminded you of the moment before a roller coaster drops. You repeated that thought in your head. "Your life would never be the same". Your life hadn't been the same in almost a year. What would be the harm in one more big change. So you did it. You opened the door.
His smile was beautiful.
#zemo x reader#helmut x reader#helmut zemo x reader#baron zemo x reader#zemo#baron zemo#helmut zemo#tfatws
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Taken & Found - 1
Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?
Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?
Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!
This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.
Pairing: Gibbs x Reader
TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism
Words count: 3k
Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99
She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.
And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.
He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.
Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.
You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.
Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.
But only Fraser was still here.
Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.
“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.
“I stick around,” you grinned.
Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.
Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.
A week later, an armchair was down his basement.
With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.
The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.
He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.
When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.
The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.
“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.
“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”
Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”
The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.
Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.
And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.
Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.
A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.
Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.
Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.
Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”
Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.
Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.
The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.
If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.
Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.
He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.
He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?
Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.
But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.
At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”
If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.
But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.
Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.
Just like Gibbs.
They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.
He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.
For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.
Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.
A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.
“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”
“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”
“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“
Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.
There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.
A picture of you.
You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.
Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”
Gibbs didn’t need more.
Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.
In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.
But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.
Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.
“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”
“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”
“I’ve always known she was alive.”
No doubt he did.
It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.
In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.
You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.
It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.
Right there on the graffiti wall.
“Born to lose, live to win.”
Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.
You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.
Numbers. GPS coordinates.
He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.
Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.
Fucking finally.
He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.
But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.
He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.
The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.
The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“
“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.
“Who? There’s no—“
Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”
“I—I—“
Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”
Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.
His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.
He needed to find you. Right now.
No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.
So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.
A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.
As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.
He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.
But you did.
When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.
The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.
You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.
He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.
That he did.
#jethro gibbs imagine#leroy jethro gibbs x reader#jethro gibbs x reader#agent gibbs#jethro gibbs#gibbs x reader#gibbs#ncis fiction#ncis fanfic#ncis fanfiction#ncis
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Last chances
Pairing: George Weasley x reader
Warning: Alcohol, swearing, angst (but worth it i promise)
Summary: Y/N is getting married. To someone that isn’t George.
A/N: this was written for @inglourious-imagines 1K writing challenge (i just realised i didnt tell you before hand what prompts i was gonna do so i hope thats okay) based off the prompts ‘you need to leave’ and ‘d-did you just k-kiss me?’
Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines @klausdatprettyboi @georgeweasleyswhre @horrorxweasley @amourtentiaa send me an ask if you would like to be added
———————————————————————————————————
George felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs as he read over the golden cursive words printed onto the crisp white paper. He could feel Fred’s pitiful stare burning holes into the side of his head, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the paper in his grasp. George’s brain was overflowing with thoughts, but his head was empty at the same time, as if every time he reached out his thoughts were dissolving into liquid and slipping through his fingers.
By the time George managed to make eye contact with Fred, his eyes were red and burning with tears, the only thought he could wrap his fingers around was the one which was destroying him the most, “she’s getting married?”
~~~
The sun was beating down harshly making the sand feel like tiny grains of lava, but George didn’t care. It was the middle of summer and the Weasley family had invited the Y/L/N’s to the beach. John and Nancy Y/L/N had been very good friends with Molly and Arthur Weasley for many years having met during high school. But soon after graduation John and Nancy got married and decided to travel the world which they had done for a few years before having their daughter Y/N. They moved around a lot while Y/N was a baby, still wanting to explore and see what the world had to offer. But now, Y/N was 7 and they decided it would do her and themselves some good to settle down somewhere, plant some roots so to speak. Which is how they ended back in the small town John and Nancy grew up in, the one where the Weasleys were still living.
Giving that it was summer, and the weather was reaching high temperatures the Weasley family decided to spend the day at the beach so the children could kill some energy and excitedly invited their old friends, John and Nancy to catch up.
George was particularly thrilled not only because he loved days at the beach playing with his siblings and making sandcastles just to pretend he was a giant and stomp on them, but he couldn’t wait to meet Y/N. His parents had told him and Fred that Y/N was their age and although Fred wasn’t very interested in playing with a girl and would much rather prank Ron, George had a good feeling about Y/N.
George had just finished constructing a sandcastle he named ‘Castle Weasley’ and was about to jump on it when his mum calls for him. He drags his bare feet through the hot sand over to his parents who are chatting with 2 people he doesn’t recognise.
“Fred, George this is John and Nancy, and this is their little girl Y/N.” Molly gestures to the timid girl hiding behind her mum’s leg.
Reluctantly Y/N moves from her previous hiding spot and stares doe eyes up at the twins in front of her. George’s mouth is dry and his palms are clammy, but he doesn’t think it’s from the blistering heat. George Weasley is staring at the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.
~~~
It’s been 3 weeks since Y/N’s wedding invitation arrived in the mail and George had shoved it under a pile of bills he was also planning to ignore. Although he doesn’t need to see the invitations to remember the words which were written on the paper ‘kindly join us for the wedding of Y/N L/N and William Chapman. Saturday the seventeenth of April at 11 o’clock.’
It was the 10th of April today, just 7 days till Y/N’s wedding. George felt bile rising in the back of his throat every time he thinks about Y/N marrying someone which wasn’t himself. George has had a crush on the girl ever since he first met her that day on the beach. Back then he only ever saw it as a silly little crush which he hoped he’d eventually get over. But years went on and his crush only grew and grew until it was suffocating. When they reached high school, George planned to tell Y/N about his feelings but chickened out each time, scared of ruining their friendship.
To be honest George always felt (maybe he just hoped) that him and Y/N were meant for each other and sooner or later they’d be together. He held tightly onto this when Y/N started dating William. George was optimistic that William and Y/N’s relationship wasn’t serious and eventually they’d break up and George could finally confess his feelings. All of that went down the drain the second George open up that stupid envelope.
“I ran into Y/N today. At the store,” Fred says carefully trying to gage his brother’s reaction to her name. George just offers a grunt in response, eye staring blankly at the tv in front of him. “she asked about you, wants to know if you’re going to the wedding since she hasn’t heard anything from you.”
George doesn’t reply. Fred just sighs, ”c’mon mate. You’re really not going to go? It’s Y/N we’re talking about here. She’s your best mate.”
George racks his ringers through his already messy hair, squeezing his eyes closed. “That’s exactly why I can’t go. It’s Y/N. How can I sit there and watch Y/N marry some other guy and pretend I’m okay with it?” George feels tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, it’s a wonder he has any tears left to cry.
Fred moves closer to George on the couch, wrapping his arm around his twin who chokes out a sob, “I know buddy, I know it fucking hurts.”
~~~
Since graduating high school George and Y/N made it tradition to catch up once a week if not more so they wouldn’t lose touch. But their newfound busy lives with university and work meant they hadn’t seen each other for a month. They finally found a day that they were both free and decided to meet up for coffee. George had paid for Y/N’s latte while she found them a table by the window. He set their drinks down admiring how beautiful Y/N looked, she was practically glowing.
“So, Y/N what’s new with you? I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” George takes a long sip of his coffee.
George knows Y/N must have some important news for him, judging solely off the smile that she’s failing to conceal. “Well, if you must know. I met someone.”
The colour drains from George’s face and he coughs trying to regain his composure. “Like a boy?”
“Yes a boy silly, his name is William and I met him at the library. It was actually really funny I was turning down one of the aisles and he” George drowns out Y/N’s voice, he can hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to jump out.
George knows, he knows it’s his own fault for not telling Y/N how he feels sooner. He knows he doesn’t have anyone else to blame but himself, but it doesn’t make this hurt any less. Sweet, kind Y/N, who had gently cradled George’s heart unknowingly since they were 7, has squeezed it between her slender fingers like a stress ball.
“George?” Y/N words break him from his trance.
“That sounds amazing Y/N, I’m really happy for you.”
~~~
It’s Monday and Y/N has been trying to contact George for days with no luck. She ran into Fred last Saturday who said George has just been super busy with work, she didn’t believe it one bit, she needed to find out why George has been ignoring her.
She pushes the store door open and the bell above chimes announcing her arrival.
“Sorry we’re closed for the day!” a voice travels through the store before it’s owner exits the storeroom to see who the culprit is, who clearly cannot read the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the door.
George’s eyes land on Y/N who is standing by the front door unmoving and twiddling with her fingers, playing with an engagement ring that seems out of place on her left hand. “What are you doing here?”
Y/N steps closer, not noticing the way George takes a small step back, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
George doesn’t speak, he’s certain that his voice would be unsteady if he did. Y/N hates the silence, so speaks again, “I’m getting married you know, on Saturday.”
George sucks in a breath, turning his back to fix one of the displays. “Yeah, congratulations,” he mumbles.
“I didn’t know if you got the invitation or not, kind of expected you to call.” Y/N shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, moving so she is standing beside George who is avoiding her gaze. “What’s the matter Georgie?”
George shakes his head, “kind of fast isn’t it? Why the rush to get married to that twat?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, ever since George met William, he made it very clear he didn’t like the bloke. “George stop it. He proposed and I said yes. We figured why wait to start our lives together, y’know? So on Saturday I thought that-“
“-I’m not going.” George’s words felt like a hot knife to Y/N’s chest. When George finally mets her gaze he continues, “I’m not going to the wedding Y/N.”
“Why?”
“Because! Because William is a prick and doesn’t deserve you. I can’t sit there and watch you marry some idiot.” George knows his voice is getting louder and that his hands are flailing around but he doesn’t care. “He’s an absolute tosser! You deserve better than William.” You deserve me.
“William has done nothing but love me, George.” The thought of George not being there at her wedding breaks her heart. George was her best friend; how could she not have her best friend at the wedding. “Are you really not going to be there for me?” Y/N’s voice is quiet and timid.
It shatters George to see her so upset and the next words almost kill him.
“No, I won’t be there.”
~~~
Click.
Click.
Click.
“Okay mum that’s enough photos now!” Y/N giggles trying to hide her face behind her hands.
“Just one more please! George put your arm around her this time.” Nancy says holding the camera up to her face.
George wraps his arm around Y/N waist pulling her closer to him very aware of the way Y/N leans into his side. It’s the night on the school dance and somehow he had gathered enough courage to ask Y/N to go with him, she agreed of course and now they were standing out the front of Y/N’s house in front of the rose bushes while Y/N and George’s parents took photos.
“Okay now one with the four of you together,” Molly says pushing Fred and his date over to the rose bush. The four of them stood together smiling at all the flashing cameras which almost blinded them.
Molly wipes a tear that slips down her cheek, she always got emotional during things like this, “I cannot believe my little babies are growing up. 16 and going to a school dance with their gorgeous dates.”
“Right mum that’s enough, we’re gonna be late,” George groans although he didn’t mind having his arm around Y/N’s middle.
Molly nods agreeing, “right fine! Don’t want to keep you from your dance, have fun!”
Arthur drops the 4 of them off at the school hall reminding them he’d be back at 12 to pick them up.
All 4 of them spend most of the night dancing together and laughing at Fred’s questionable dance moves. Soon the upbeat song comes to an end and a much slowly one started playing. Immediately Fred extends a hand to his date, “m’lady. Care to dance?”
George turns his body to face Y/N who is gazing up at his tall frame, he gulps “Y/N do you wanna dance with me?”
The smile that spreads across her face could light up the room, “yes please.”
For the remainder of the night George and Y/N sway slowly to the music, Y/N moves closer to George until her head is resting against his chest and his arms find their place on her hips.
Y/N can hear George humming to the music above her and she smiles giving his shoulders a small squeeze, then whispers so quietly she’s worried George doesn’t hear her. “I hope we are always best friends Georgie.”
“I promise we will be love.”
~~~
Friday night and George hasn’t spoken to Y/N since she visited the shop. He’s ignored her phone calls and text messages; she came into the shop again on Wednesday, but George locked himself in the backroom telling Fred he had to do stocktake.
George could feel himself falling apart, Y/N was upset with him, Fred was annoyed at his childish behaviour. George felt himself fall deeper and deeper as his heartache and sorrow grew stronger every time he remembered Y/N’s engagement. The only thing which seems to numb his feelings was the alcohol.
At this point George wasn’t sure how much he had had to drink, but the buzz running through his system was better than the bitterness he was feeling before. It had just hit 11:30pm at night and he had finished the last of the tequila from the bottle. With no alcohol to distract his brain his eyes drift over the numerous photo frames he has hanging on the living room wall. His eyes stop at one photo in particular, it’s of him and Y/N from the day at the beach when they were 7. Despite it being the first time the two had met, they looked like they’d known each other since birth. Y/N had been very shy when she was introduced to the twins, but George quickly made her feel comfortable and the day was spent with lots of laughter and smiles. In the photo George and Y/N are stood side by side on the sand, grinning up at the camera. They had just made a huge sandcastle village and were very proud to show off their creation. George’s eyes wander down the photograph to their hands which are tightly intertwined. He bites his lip before stumbling out the front door.
~~~
“Do you ever think about getting married Georgie?” Y/N questions, she’s lying beside George outside on the grass, staring up at the clouds moving above them. They did this a lot, gazing at the sky trying to find the funniest shapes in the clouds.
George is only 12 but he knows exactly who he wants to marry, not that he will admit that.
“No, not really.” George tries not to freak out when he feels Y/N’s hand intertwine with his own, “do you?”
Y/N nods, “yep, I want to marry someone who is funny and will let me eat ice cream for dinner.” She giggles and it makes George’s heart soar, it the 5 years of knowing Y/N it had quickly become George’s favourite sound.
He turns his head to face Y/N, she’s still looking up at the sky, there’s a faint smile on her lips.
“I’m funny.” George isn’t sure what he’s insinuating.
Y/N turns to face him, “you are. Would you let me eat ice cream for dinner?” he nods eagerly.
Y/N purses her lips before smiling, “well then Georgie, maybe I’ll marry you.”
George can only hope that’s true.
~~~
George’s fist hammers against the wooden door. It knows it late and there’s a chance William will answer instead of Y/N but in this moment he doesn’t care. “C’mon Y/N open up! It’s me George.”
The door swings open and Y/N is standing on the other side in a fluffy dressing gown wrapped snuggly around her body rubbing her eyes. “George what the hell are you doing here?” There’s a trace of annoying on her voice, mostly because he’d woken her up but also because she’s been trying to talk to him all week and he decides to show up at her house at midnight the night before her wedding.
“I-um,” George stammers, his words getting stuck in this throat. He has spent practically his whole life wanting to tell Y/N he loves her but never being able to find the words, this time was no exception. So, in George’s alcohol fuelled mind he decides if he can’t use words then actions are the next best thing.
Y/N is staring blanking at the redhead on her porch, eager to know the reason why he’s standing in front of her after ignoring her all week. George timidly steps closer towards Y/N before resting his hands on her cheeks and pressing their lips together roughly.
Y/N is stood frozen on the spot until her hands reach up to rest on George’s chest. She can taste the strong alcohol on Georges mouth, and she’s pulled back to reality and pushing him away. “D-did you just k-kiss me?”
George nods.
Y/N is filled with anger and it starts to bubble up inside of her. “What the fuck George? You’ve been ignoring me all week not answering my calls or texts and-and then you just come here drunk and do that? You can’t come here the night before my wedding and kiss me. It’s not fair!”
George’s shoulders slump, “I’m sorry, I just had to say- that I…” he pauses again, his eyes scanning over Y/N’s face hoping somehow she’s learnt how to mind read.
“What? You had to say what George?” Y/N is aware that she’s yelling but she can’t bring herself to care.
“That I love you.”
Y/N doesn’t speak her brain is running a hundred miles a minute. The silence is unpleasant and unbearable, George looking into Y/N’s eyes trying to read her expression.
“You need to leave,” Y/N utters, her face unmoving.
It’s like George’s feet are glued to the ground, he’s brain is screaming at him to move but he can’t.
“You need to leave George.” Y/N’s voice is firmer this time, “I’m getting married tomorrow and you need to leave right now.”
~~~
George Weasley is an idiot. No, he’s more than an idiot, George Weasley is a dickhead, plain and simple.
He hadn’t been able to fall asleep when he got home, he kept replaying the night over and over. Every time he closed his eyes, he was met with Y/N staring back at him. Except she’s staring with so much disgust it makes George feel sick, he can still hear Y/N’s voice telling him to leave. George Weasley not only managed to lose the life of his life in one night but also his best friend. He feels like a dickhead.
George glances over at the clock next to his bed. 10:30 am. Y/N is getting married in 30 minutes. His chest pains, he thinks he might throw up.
George staggers out of bed and towards the kitchen, he needs water. His journey is interrupted by a harsh knock from the front door. He sighs, he knew Fred would come around to try and convince him to go to the wedding. George figures he couldn’t go to the wedding even if he wanted to, sure that his invitation was no longer valid after last night.
“Fred, seriously I’m not going,” George flings open the door and he almost passes out.
Y/N was standing there looking like an angel, he thinks maybe he died from alcohol poisoning and was actually in heaven. Y/N’s hair was laying loosely across her shoulders, she was wearing a breathtaking white gown which hugged her body perfectly.
George mouth is gaping open his voice coming out breathless and in a whisper, “what-what are you doing here?” He’s half expecting Y/N to slap him across the face for his antics last night.
“I couldn’t do it,” Y/N also whispers, as if this is a secret conversation, only meant for the two of them.
“Why?” George squeaks.
“Because I love you.”
Y/N steps closer and drapes her arms around George’s neck pulling him closer so their foreheads are resting against each other.
As soon as she woke up this morning Y/N felt ill. It wasn’t until she was standing in her wedding dress by the church did she realise why she felt sick. It was because the man that was waiting for her inside the church wasn’t George. Her mum sensed her daughters doubts and offered a comforting hand on her shoulder, “darling, you tell me right now if you want out. I’ll get a car, I’ll sort out this whole thing, you won’t have to worry about a thing.”
Without thinking Y/N had responded, “I want out mum.” That lead to Y/N zooming away in her dad’s car straight for George’s place.
Y/N gazes into George’s warm and gentle eyes, she felt home, “I love you even though you’re an idiot who waited to tell me you loved me till the night before my wedding to someone else.”
George chuckles, “yeah I guess I am but I’m your idiot.”
#inglourious1kwritingchallenge#George Weasley#George Weasley x reader#George Weasley x you#George Weasley Angst#George Weasley fluff#George Weasley oneshot#George Weasley one shot#George weasley fanfiction#Writing challenge
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The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 20/?
Word Count: 2.2k
Author’s Note: Y/N - your name
***IMPORTANT*** The Criminal Psychology majors will be taking a temporary hiatus as I’m getting my second dose of the vaccine today<3 I don’t know when I’ll be coming back because I don’t want to burn myself out on this series just to give content while I’m gone, yknow
Warnings: Swearing, Forgetfulness, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)
They danced and sung the night away at the Gala. It ended at around 2:00am and everyone went back to the Wayne Manor.
Somehow it came out that they should play Uno of all things. Uno is known for being the “Friendship Ruiner” or the “Relationship Ruiner” of the world. So, of course, they played it. Why wouldn't they?
Y/N dealt the cards. She was not quick about it. At all. She really struggled to deal the cards to the entire group, but she still tried. It was the thought that counted. Or at least she thought it did.
But no one seemed to mind she was a little slower with her cards-dealing. Which was different to the up-beat, face-paced life all of them lead. One would have expected that they would want a crazy fast dealer, but no one cared.
They played well into the night, with Jason ending up tapping-out and laying in Y/N’s lap. She played with his hair and leaned down to show him the good cards she got, at least until he fell asleep. She spent the time bonding with his family.
They had always liked her. From the first time they all met her, they knew she was going to be something real. They were even impressed that Jason and her hadn’t fought yet. They were both hot-headed when they wanted to be, so when it was obvious that they put the relationship ahead of their own prides, it was something else.
They knew of the first time they had one of these moments. Y/N was at a dance competition, but Jason had to dip because of “Family Issues”, she was upset. Of course, she wanted him there and it looked like they were going to get into a huge spat about it. But, when she won that competition, she got up there and she said,
“This one is for my family, my friends, the extension of my family,” she paused, “And my boyfriend, Jason.” She smiled, “He isn’t here right now because of family issues, but he told me to follow my dreams, and here I am,” she said while raising her medal slightly, “This one was for you, baby.”
And that’s when his family knew that pride was stupid to them. Relationships are growing, changing together. And while they both stayed hot-headed, they changed that slight detail in themselves to be better partners. It was admirable.
Y/N ended up winning the last game. Half of the Waynes were sleeping, either at the coffee table where they were playing or in their rooms. She glanced over to the clock, 6:00am. She knew her parents were getting up soon, so she texted her mom,
Hey mum! So do you still want Jay and I to come over for the barbeque?
And she nudged him a little. Everyone else had left the room, so she was trying to wake him up. So they could go to his room. He groaned.
“Baby, do you want to sleep in your bed?” she whisper-asked him, leaning down to his ear and stroking his hair. He groaned and got up, started walking to his room. She followed suit. He was on his bed and passed out before she even got up there.
She laughed and walked over to him, fumbling with his suit jacket. He mumbled something about taking him on a date first, and she laughed again.
“C’mon, work with me here, you’re going to be uncomfortable if you sleep in your suit, my love.”
He groaned and took off his jacket before unbuttoning his shirt, while she got his belt undone.
“God, take me on a date first,” he mumbled.
“Shh,” she said, placing a finger over his lips, “Just go to bed, Jay.”
He sloppily kissed her neck before she cupped his face and used her position to straddle him to the bed. She kissed his forehead before getting off of him and going through his clothes. She needed something, a shirt, pants, anything she could wear.
She fumbled with getting her own dress and gloves off, ending up throwing the dress over his desk chair, hoping it would minimize wrinkling. She undid her corset and threw it on his desk. Her heels were sitting at his desk chair. The gloves on his desk.
She crawled into bed with him, being the big spoon, burying her face behind his neck. She pulled out her phone to look at her texts. One from Artemis,
Hey, dude. That dress, oh my God?
She laughed into Jason’s shoulder and sent back, I know. I know. I know. I killed it. You can’t say I didn’t.
You’re literally so right because again, oh my God. You did NOT need to wipe the floor with the rest of the guests. I mean, Selina was there and you were on her level.
That’s impressive. Selina is stunning. But I’d argue I was just below every Wayne lady.
Well, eventually you’ll be a Wayne lady.
C’mon. It’s been 6 months.
You say that like the thought hasn’t crossed your mind at least once.
Yeah, but I don’t talk to anyone about it.
You should start talking about it. Most people think about their weddings.
Okay, anyway. Why are you up so early?
I was studying most of the night with Wally.
Ah, “Studying”. Nice.
I wish! No, we were actually studying. Not like you and Jay at your little Gala. Actually had to study.
I have to study too, but exams are like next week.
Wish I could relate. Mine are today.
And you didn’t sleep? Dude.
Shh, you’re not my mom.
She laughed and fell asleep cuddling Jason. Her phone was opened, so it died.
----------------------------------
Jason woke up first. Looking at the time, it was 12:00pm. Y/N was sleeping behind him, still loosely holding him. He smiled. He hoped that the night before had fixed some of the issues between them. Well, he hoped there was no issues.
He didn’t want work to be more stressful than it already was. But, they were having issues. He thought it was because of finals, but he feared there was more to it. Maybe it was the fact that he’s famous. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn’t handle the fame. He hoped it wasn’t anything to do with the fame.
But the comment about the people with daggers at her throat obviously wasn't about anyone else. It was the press. He knew she had issues with the press. He always would. She always would. He wouldn’t blame her if she walked away from him because of the press. Break up or a break, she was allowed to give up because of the press. He hoped she didn’t. He hoped she never would. He didn’t want to jinx them, but he really, really, hoped that this wouldn’t end in flames.
He looked at her. He remembered the first moment he knew he loved her. They were having dinner at this hole-in-the-wall restaurant that he had seen on patrol one night. She was scarfing down the food, and he wiped away the mess on her face with his thumb. He knew then. He knew in that moment that that was it. She was it.
He was whipped and he knew it. But every time his siblings or dad brought it up, he mentioned current or past relationships they had. The only people who weren’t whipped in the Wayne household were the women.
Or maybe the all were, they were just good at hiding it. He turned around and cuddled her back He stroked her hair. He ran his fingers through her hair.
She did it to him a lot. Physical affection was something that he was used to at this point. He still didn’t know how to feel about it, but he had ended up letting Dick hug him more often. He didn’t say it was because of her, because she didn’t outright run up to him expecting hugs, she was okay with hand holding and small touches of affection. It wasn’t because of her that he started letting people in.
But he did think she was a turning point for him. For his affection. His love style. She gave a damn about him and made it clear. It wasn’t like love he was used to, but it also opened his mind to people trying to love him.
She shifted around a bit. She ended up turning her back to Jason so he became the big spoon, and he buried his face in her hair. She groaned and tugged at the blanket on his bed, pulling it onto the two of them. He helped her get it on them. She groaned again.
“You up?” he whispered.
“No... I’m in deep sleep,” she said with a slur to her speech.
“My mistake, really.”
“It is.”
He pulled her closer, “Can you wake up?”
“No.”
“That’s sad. I wanted to talk.”
“You can talk.”
“Okay so,” he said, “I realised something. Some people would say you’re changing me, that I’m becoming someone else because of you,” he paused, “I’d have to disagree. You’re not doing anything.”
“Uh huh.”
“You’re just inspiring me to do better. You influence me. You don’t intentionally go in and change me, I change because I love you.”
“That’s nice honey.”
“You could pretend you’re interested in what I have to say, my love.”
“I’m tired, Jay.”
“I danced you to Hell, I guess.”
She groaned, “I guess I can’t go back to bed, now,” she flexed her wrist, “You’ve interrupted my sleep.”
He cuddled in closer to her, “I am not sorry.”
“Of course you’re not, why would you be?” she said while she turned to face him, “You just want to see me.”
“Damn, you got me.”
She yawned, “We need to study eventually.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“I just did.”
“School’s annoying. It’s on every last never but also none of them. It’s stressful but I also met you from it. It’s something I excel at but also causes me pain.”
“I know, babe. I know,” she said as she searched for her phone, finding it, dead and under her leg. “Fuck, killed my phone.”
“Where did you even have that all night?”
“Dress has pockets. But I didn’t bring my charger,” she sighed. “I had texted my mum too.”
“Texted your mom about what?”
“She wants us to go to a family barbeque after exams.”
“That’s so suburban of your family.”
“Yet they live in a massive city. I guess you'll see my family? you like them, don't you?” she asked.
He had met her family in January of that year. He got along with her mom and dad, in spite of the language barrier between him and her dad. There was difficulty understanding each other, but they got along in their love for rock music. It warmed Y/N’s heart.
Her mom liked him just because he made her happy. They didn’t really need to get along, but they did. They both cooked, and her mom had dragged him into helping her when Y/N was watching figure skating with her dad. Apparently they hit it off.
“I have literally no idea,” he said.
“How do you not know?”
“Your sister has something off about her.”
“You know, that’s fair. I don’t blame you for that one.”
“Yeah, have you noticed she’s very... obsessed with vigilantes?”
“And you thought I was obsessed,” she joked, “Yeah, she takes it a little too far. The whole, “I want to marry a vigilante to infiltrate and kill them” thing was obviously a joke, but I feel like there was some truth to it. That scares me.”
“Thank God I’m not the only one.”
“If you don’t like her, don’t worry about it. i don’t care if you like her. We’ve had a difficult relationship all or lives. If you can be civil, it’s a win.”
“Did you have an ex openly hate your sister?”
“Yep. And he’s an ex for a reason.”
“That’s fair. I would hate it if someone openly hated one of my siblings.”
“Unless it’s Dami.”
“Unless it’s Dami, that’s very true.”
“Still don’t know what you have against that kid, he’s very sweet.”
“That’s what he wants you to think.”
“Well, then its working.”
“What a master manipulator,” he laughed. “It’s the principle of the matter, Y/N.”
“It’s the principle of the matter, Y/N,” she mocked.
“Okay listen,” he laughed, “It is. He’s a menace.”
“But you love him.”
“It’s unfortunate. He's my brother, but he is also whatever. I don’t know. He’s amazing, he’s a genius, but who knows. Maybe one day we won’t fight all the time.”
“Imaging hoping you don’t fight with your sibling.”
“Family issues, amirite?”
She groaned and got over him, “Where are you going?” he asked.
“Fuck, I don’t know. Just need to get up, to be fair.”
“Coffee?”
“Eh, probably not.”
“That’s new.”
“You betcha. I don’t feel the affects of caffeine withdrawal yet.” She looked at her dress, it was wrinkled. Which was whatever. She knew it was going to happen. She went searching for all her stuff and put it on his desk. It was spread all out over his room, she didn’t know how it happened.
“How did your shit end up everywhere?” he asked.
“Probably the same way that all your shit ended up everywhere? I have no idea.”
“What, did we fuck?”
“No!” she laughed, “Do you not remember?”
“Days are blurring together, so.”
“Well that’s not... normal?”
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd fluff#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x y/n#red hood x you#red hood fluff#batfam#batfamily#batbros#batman#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#nightwing#dick grayson#tim drake#red robin#damien wayne#robin#batgirl#spoiler dc#oracle#cassandra wayne#cassandra cain#barbara gordon
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Nobody's Perfect (part7)
Will Liane crash the wedding?
Warning - angst / injury
Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers
You woke in Cillian's childhood bedroom to the sound of his alarm going off. Fortunately he had a double bed, even though the way the two of you curled into each other, a single would've been fine.
"Morning beautiful lady..." He always woke you up like that, with a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
"Morning handsome. How you feeling about your baby sister getting married?"
"Weird. She's still 7 in my head. It's really odd!"
"She was telling me about her dress last night, it sounds beautiful."
"I'm sure it will be. Come on, me mother will be downstairs already fretting and I'm gonna be kicked out in 30minutes so you women can do whatever it is you women do before a wedding..."
"Am I not coming with you?"
"Nope. I'm going to be with the other groomsmen making sure Damien doesn't do a runner."
You laughed and dragged yourselves out of bed to get ready.
You'd arrived at the venue with 5 minutes to spare. Everyone, including Cillian, would be inside waiting for the bride. You headed into the toilets to touch your lipstick up before heading inside to wait yourself. Walking in, you noticed a blond woman doing the same as you. You smiled warmly, but she didn't return it. Not everyone in his family is as friendly as the others, clearly.
Thinking no more of it, you applied your lipstick and headed back to the wedding. Spotting Cillian at the front adjusting Damien's cravat, your heart soared. He looked incredible in his navy blue groomsman suit, combined with an ivory shirt and red rose boutonnière. His Peaky haircut only added to the attraction.
Silé and her father entered the room as A Thousand Years by Christina Perri played softly on the piano in the corner. You couldn't help but watch Cillian as he winked at his sister walking towards him and Damien at the altar. He wasn't just a groomsman, he was the best man. And what a best man he was. He nudged Damien, and he turned round, tears in his eyes as he watched his soon-to-be wife approach him. Cillian caught your eye and he smiled.
The ceremony over, it was time for drinks on the large patio area outside. You were stood talking to Cillian's youngest sister Orla when two hands wrapped themselves round your waist, and a pair of lips on your neck.
"Hey beautiful..." Orla made a vomit face, making you laugh as you turned and faced him.
"My word Mr Murphy, don't you scrub up well?"
"Not so bad yourself there." He held you at arms length, admiring the floor length light blue summer dress you'd chosen.
"Does this mean there's going to be an epic best man's speech from you then?"
"Yep. Had it written for months. Plan on embarrassing the shit out my little sister - perfect revenge for the stories I'm sure she told you last night." He smirked.
You were sat next to Cillian's other siblings at the wedding breakfast - there was a seat spare anyway - this wedding was three years in the planning, that seat would have been Liane's when it was put together. Silé had left it empty on the off chance her brother would find someone. Eventually, the time came for Cillian's speech. He took the microphone, and stood. Starting with the obligatory thanking everyone for coming, before cracking jokes about how he used to play practical jokes on his sister, and how he'd set her up on a blind date with Damien six years earlier. Liane got a mention - only to say that Damien setting him up with his sister 6 years earlier than that hadn't exactly gone to plan.
"I've only just forgiven you for that," he smiled, earning a laugh from the crowd. He made eye contact with you, and was about to speak before a voice from the back of the room interrupted him.
"Wasn't all that bad now, was it Cillian?" The room fell silent, you saw Cillian's face turn white as a sheet. Turning round, you saw the blond lady from the toilets earlier... It couldn't be...
"Can't have all been bad, you married me after 6 months of dating, didn't you?" Cillian cleared his throat, determined not to ruin his sister's wedding day.
"Liane, come on.." Orla took her shoulder and tried to walk her out of the room, but she was shoved violently away and hit the floor. Cillian had seen enough at that point and made his way over, pulling Orla off the floor and glaring at Liane.
"You need to leave, now, before I make you leave.." he seethed.
"Doesn't 12 years of marriage mean anything to you?!"
"Liane this is my sister's wedding day! We're not doing this now!"
"And who's this little slut you've brought with you, huh?" She turned to you, glaring as she made her way over. You were frozen to your seat as she picked up a wine glass and smashed it off the side of the table. Cillian shouted for someone to call the police as he grabbed her from behind and pulled her backwards onto a table. He managed to pin her to the floor, holding her hands up, writhing against him trying to get at you.
"Can someone take over.." he groaned, as Padraig grabbed her arms, another man had her legs. Cillian stumbled backwards, and you saw him clutch at his abdomen, blood on his hands and over his shirt. It was then you realised she wasn't holding the glass anymore..
"Someone call an ambulance!"
*************************************************************
You'd been waiting at the hospital for hours. As soon as he'd arrived he'd gone straight in for surgery. You'd gone in the ambulance with him, his mum and dad followed in the car. Everyone else stayed to give the police statements after Liane had been arrested.
His mum was holding your hand in the private room when the doctor finally came in.
"We managed to get all the glass shards out, and stitched him up. It went deep - a few centimetres to the left and she would have hit an artery. He'll need to stay for a couple of days so we can keep an eye on him, but he's awake now. He's asking for y/n?" His mum squeezed your hand. The doctor led you through to his room and you took a breath before going in. He was lying on the bed, wires in his arms and a sleepy look in his eyes, but he still shot you a smile.
"Feels like I'm filming 28 Days Later all over again," he smirked.
"You scared the shit out of me Cill..." The tears finally fell, you'd held them back up to this point but you couldn't stop them now. You sat next to his bed and held his hand, sobbing into it as he stroked your hair with his other hand.
"Just a scratch y/n. Better that than what I thought was gonna happen."
"There was so much blood..."
"She did a good job didn't she? Fuck it hurts..." He chuckled and immediately regretted it.
"Can you get my mam?" You nodded and went to fetch her. She came into to room and kissed Cillian's head lightly.
"Mam, y/n is good to stay with you til I'm outta here, right?"
"Not even a question son, you know that! Plenty of old photo albums I can show her." She smirked. So that's where he got that from...
"On second thoughts, maybe you should head to my place in Dublin..." He laughed nervously.
"Mrs Murphy I don't want to be a bother..."
"Shh now, I won't hear another word of it. You'll stay with us as long as you need to." You kissed Cillian's hand, a few tears still falling down your cheeks.
"Don't wind up the nurses Cill..." You warned, his mother told you the last time he was in hospital he spent the majority of the tine doing just that.
"Won't be flirting with them this time though at least." You raised an eyebrow, his mum slapped his shoulder.
Back at his mum's house, you'd settled on the sofa, his Dad on the armchair still in a bit of a daze and his mum bringing you a glass of wine.
"How's Silé and Damien?" You asked as she sat down next to you.
"They're more concerned about Cillian than the wedding - as long as he's okay, they're okay."
"Was she always crazy? Liane?"
"Not at first. She was a sweetheart. Once they got married and Cillian became more famous, she changed. Became possessive over him. Always checking up on him, making sure he wasn't having his way with co-stars... Ironic really!" She laughed.
"I'm so sorry for all of this... She wouldn't have done it if I'd not been there..."
"Not another word of it - the woman's a nutcase. This isn't your fault at all. I haven't seen my son this happy for years - and I mean it. If anything, I thank you for that." She took your hand as you welled up, and pulled you into a huge hug.
"You've all been so wonderful... Sorry I keep crying, my emotions are all over the place..."
"Understandable, it's been a hell of a day. Take yourself off.to get some rest. I'll wake you in the morning, we can go see Cillian. Maybe a spot of shopping after, what do you say?"
You grinned, and nodded. Saying goodnight you headed upstairs. Getting into bed, you sent a text to Cillian.
"Hope you're okay? I'm heading to bed, love you X"
He didn't reply but you figured he was probably resting, until his dad shouted up the stairs.
"Y/n??!!!" You rushed out of bed and ran downstairs.
"What's wrong?"
"Cillian's in a bad way, we need to get to the hospital now..."
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Drunken Dares
Prompt + paring: Tattoo Parlour au, ‘night’ + Solangelo
A/N: Hellooo- i had the choice between a tattoo parlour au or a flowershop au but I'm already writing a pjo flowershop au so I thought I'd spice it up with a tattoo parlour au! I kinda wanted there to be a part two becuase I wanted a bit of bonding between the two so maybe if i remember, that may happen? Anyway- enjoy <3 from phi phi!
Read on A03 Writersmonth 2021 Masterlist
“Do I really have to do this?” Will groaned slightly. It was late at night and here Meg was, pushing him in a tattoo parlour.
“Yep!” She hummed as she pushed him forward.He tripped over his own foot as he flung through the double doors. He was about to continue reluctantly before realising the short minion who had forced him here was no longer by his side.
He turned around and frowned. “ Meg? Why aren’t you coming in?”
“I’m underage,” She hummed.
“You know you can just stand to the side?” Will asked, a slightly desperate undettone to his statement which Meg noticed. He was begging her not to leave him in the scary dark tattoo parlour which was full of buff, scary people.
“Sorry- but I must not break the law!”
“Last week you happily started trying to drive my car!” Will yelled at the glass doors. Alas, his yells were ignored as Meg blissfully ignored him as she continued her walk home, leaving William Andrew Solace in a tattoo parlour.
What was he meant to do?Walk up to the guy at the counter and tell him that he wanted a tattoo? He should have never gotten drunk and played truth or dare- he should have known that the first thing Leo would dare him would be to taint his beautiful freckled skin. The worst part ultimately was the fact that he had to get it on his chest.
Perhaps the gods above saw Will’s freak out or perhaps Leo was simply being extra nice when he saw Will in the middle of the parlour looking so out of place it was painful but either way, the next thing Will knew, he was being taken by the wrist towards the counter by none other than Leonidas Valdez; the very bastard who had gotten him into this mess.
“I’m surprised you actually came,” Leo commented.
“Meg forced me,” Will grunted.
“So,” Leo sighed as he tapped at the cigarette in between his fingers, “ Do you know what you’re getting?”
“Uhh… no, not really., How does this work? You tell them what you want and then they stab at your body with a needle?”
Leo let out a small scoff which had smoke billowing out of his lips and nose as if he was a chimney. “ No, darling- they shave, sanitise and then they stab at your body with a needle.”
“That made me feel so much better.”
Ignoring the evident sarcasm, Leo simply smiled. “ You’re welcome, blondie.”
Wil, ruffling at his hair, mumbled, “Shut up.”
Leo, who was significantly enjoying teasing Will, was cut off by Piper- one of the last people Will expected to see at the tattoo parlor. But on a second look, the tattoos on her abdomen spiraling up to her breasts and arms made Will wonder why he never noticed them.
“Oh Will- you’re actually here?” Piper's surprised voice rang out.
“Unfortunately.”
“Well the artist is ready for you,” Piper ushered him towards the dark room, only illuminated by the UV lights.
Will visibly gulped. Leo and Piper couldn’t help but interlock eyes and snort a little- after all, it was simply adorable at how nervous this newbire was.
Will took small steps and the second he passed the door, it slammed shut.
What the fuck- do the doors here have a mind of their own?
“Come in- take a seat,” A voice commanded. Will, who didn’t really have any choice but to listen to what he was being told, fumbled around, trying to figure out where he was meant to be going. It seemed that Will, in his internal chaos, did not notice the tattoo artist's leg propped up to the side and therefore, when Will finally did notice the leg- it had been the hard way.
He tripped and the next thing he knew, his wrist had made a new best friend. Bruised and swollen, Will’s wrist heavily ached- forcing him to let out a small groan of pain.
“Fuck, are you okay?” the voice rang out. Will heard a relative amount of fumbling and heavy footsteps and suddenly the room was flooded with light.
The face that he was met with was not one he was expecting. The boy had mid length hair- while it wasn’t really long, it was flowing over the nape of his neck slightly and it looked like it really got in the way of his eyes. He watched as the boy seperated the pieces of hair covering his eyes, creating an effortless look.
His face radiated an emotion that Will couldn’t describe- sadness? Or was it simply the face of someone who was content with little?
“Are you okay?” The man asked. Will watched- he had never seen such dynamic expressions and the way this man's face morphed into an expression of concern had him wrapt with all.
Will could only nod stupidly, his hand still clutching at his bruised wrist.
“Dya mind if I have a look at that anyway?” The artist insisted as he grabbed a med kit and sat on his spinning chair before wheeling himself towards Will who now sat on the chair that he was originally appointed.
He gently cradled Will’s wrist between his fingers, turning it round and round. His face contorted between emotion of worry and concern.
“It’s okay,” Will re-assured . “ It’s not sprained or broken, just a bit of bruising and swelling. Should be gone by tomorrow morning.”
“You sure?”
“I’m a doctor.”
“Ah,” He smiled slightly. “ I shouldn’t question you, Dr..?”
“Solace- but Will is fine. How about you?”
“Nico- Now let's have a look at what you want huh?” He closed the notebook he had been creating designs in before Will walked in and pulled out a collection of the most popular designs so far.
“These are the trending ones currently but I can always pull out something else if you want. Or if you have your own design that you wanted, I can try with it,” Nico offered. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked his lighter.- once, twice and a third time before grunting and pulling out a different one. Will watched, hypnotized, as Nico lit the cigarette.
Nico looked up and caught Will staring and shyly asked. “ You don’t mind do you?”
“No… but you should try and refrain from smoking. It’s really, really bad for you and I say this as a doctor.”
“You’re the 4th person today who has said that.”
“I’m alarmed that you managed to smoke that many times today,” Will said with concern.
Ignoring what Will had said, Nico continued. “Anyway, have you chosen anything yet?”
Will let out a heavy breath. “ Ah, no. My friends kinda forced me here but nothing here really matches… me.”
“What about this flower? Or the skull? “
Will shrugged. “ I don't think I’d want those on my skin permanently”
Nico nodded and continued smoking, while Will flipped through the latest designs. Nothing seemed to catch his eye as much as something he could have sworn he saw earlier. It was a stylised sun tatoo- nothing necessarily special but it reminded him of his mum- and his home.
“Excuse me,” Wil started, causing Nico to put his cigarette down in the ashtray, “ I was just wondering if the designs in that were available?”
Will pointed to the notebook That Nico had closed earlier. He watched as Nico hesitated. His face seemed to be stuck between wanting to let Will sneak a peek but it also seemed to want to tell him to stop.
However, his hand simply made up his mind and shoved the book across the table in Will’s direction.
Daintily, with the utmost care, Will opened the first page and his eyes almost watered at the immense detail and beauty poured into these designs. It looked like the heart and soul of the artist had been etched into every little petal, every small ray and eventually after gaping at each page he found the design he had spotted earlier.
The sun wasn’t special but it held Will’s eyes so much that Nico told him, “ Close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.”
“This one,” Will pointed to the stylised sun, “ I want this one.”
Nico scanned his eyes over it before humming and nodding. He put out his cigarette and got up.
“Where d'ya want it?”
“Chest- left side,” Will blurted out. He didn’t know why he wanted it there- perhaps because he wanted the thing that reminded him of his mother to be as close to his heart as possible.
Nico nodded as he prepared everything. Then he turned to Will. “ You realise you’ll need to take off your shirt?”
Will blushed and looked away as he started unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Meg had dragged him out of the hospital as soon as his shift had ended and thrown him into the tattoo parlour and therefore he was still wearing a crisp white shirt.
“Do I need to take off the whole thing?”
Nico took a quick look at Will. The sight that met his eyes was surprising- he used to seeing the chest of his clients but for some reason the sight of a very attractive and intelligent young man before him was very different. He seemed to be looking away as a blush graced his cheeks and ears. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough for Nico to see Will’s muscled chest.
How did a doctor have enough time to work out like that?
“Uh... just a bit more, I don’t want the needle to catch on the side of your shirt.” Nico reiterated, even though he was lying.
“Okay, so now, I'm just going to clean the area and then I’ll trace the sketch before tattooing it on. Do you want red or black?”
“Uh- you can choose,” Will sighed, desperate to get it done and over with.
Nico nodded. He slipped on some gloves and wiped at Will’s chest with an antiseptic. Will flinched at the cold wipe and the soft touch of the artist before him .
“Sorry,” Will murmured, “ It’s cold.”
Nico simply nodded as he began sketching the outline of the tattoo. Will tipped his head back, unable to meet the eyes of Nico ro even look at what was happening. He could feel the tickly touch of the pen on his skin and the soft brush of Nico’s glove on his skin every once in a while.
“All done. Now for the painful part. You may feel like you’re getting stung by a bee a lot,” Nico warned. “Try not move a lot, it will make it harder for me.”
Will, who couldn’t formulate words at this point, simply nodded. “I’d let you squeeze my hand, but unfortunately- I need both,” Nico smiled as reassurance.
He heard the buzzing of the gun and braced himself. The needle poked and prodded as he expected and at times he did wish he had stolen some morphine from the hospital beforehand but all in all, he managed to get the tattoo without bursting into tears and without ruining hids tattoo.
“All done,'' Nico said as he covered the tattoo.
“When do I get to see it?” Will asked, curiously, happier that it was over.
“In a few days- it just needs to sink in.”
Wil sat there, unsure of what to do next. He had paid and was now just sitting in an empty room with his tattoo artist. Was he meant to just say goodbye? Wasn't that kind of harsh?
But Will realised, had this been anybody else or any other appointment- he wouldn't want to be staying for any extra time. Did he want to be friends with this guy? Maybe it was that- yes, it would be that. As someone who was socially awkward, Will knew that he liked hanging out with people; he simply wasn't very good at it
Just as he was going to ask for his number, Nico passed him a slip of paper. “ Here’s my number. Call me when you’re free.”
With that and a wink, Will was left in the empty tattoo room.
#writersmonth#solangelo#will solace#nico di angelo#leo valdez#piper mclean#meg mcaffery#will solace fic#nico di angelo fanfic#nico x will#will x nico#solangelo fanfic#leo valdez fanfic#piper mclean fanfic#meg mcaffery fanfic#nico x will fanfic#will x nico fanfic#solangelo fluff#will solace fanfic#hoo#pjo#pjo fanfic#hoo fanfic
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Story of us
A/n: Angsty, post-Hogwarts and slightly r13 towards the end.
The history between Y/n and Draco was... complicated. There was something between them that their friends just couldn't understand. On paper there was no reason for them to dislike each other as much as they did, she was a pureblood Slytherin who grew up very similarly to him and also had to change her views like Draco did after the war.
They shared trauma and multiple parallel life experiences but they just didn't get along. Pansy and Daphne never got it, why Y/n had that look of disgust on her face once Draco finished talking.
Blaise and Theo thought it would get better after they left Hogwarts and didn't spend all their free time together, but still, Draco rolled his eyes whenever she walked into the room.
Now they were adults in the wide world, jobs, partners but the tightknit friend group stayed close. Friday nights were always time they spent together, reserved for clubbing or a pub night out or even sitting on Blaise and Pansy's living room floor.
Tonight it was the latter. With a G and T (her favourite muggle alcohol) in her hand, Y/n sat on their couch next to Pansy who had had a lot more than her to drink.
Just as the boys had taken out their hidden stash of weed, Y/n spoke up. "I'm going to go outside." It wasn't that she was opposed to weed, she just didn't like the smell and the boys always insisted on smoking so much they couldn't see out the windows.
Blaise and Pansy's apartment had a beautiful wrap-around balcony. While Y/n and Draco were both fair wealthier, they both received substantial graduation gifts that went a long way to getting an apartment in a good part of London.
They had been together since the last year of Hogwarts, all of their friends watching them slowly grow closer over the year until they realised they were in love.
It was beautiful and while 17-year-old Y/n envied them, she always wanted to speak at their wedding.
As soon as she opened the balcony door the still night air hit her. While it was colder than inside, the sweet smell of the summer air made it a nice contrast.
The sun was just setting in the distance and the sky was the most beautiful golden, pink colour. It was the time Y/n always liked to look out her window at during the war, knowing there was peacefulness at the end of the day always made the long days feel slightly better. The way the warm light danced over the water, dancing on the walls of the usually dark dormitory.
Standing out on the balcony, where the world was right and falling into place felt a lot better. Like nothing could get her down.
She was off in her own world, not noticing when Draco opened the sliding door and walked out next to her.
"Shit Draco!" She shrieked once he put his hand on her lower back. She ignored the tingling feeling in her stomach as she glared at him.
Draco stepped closer to her, maybe too close for her liking. "You could really do with some weed to chill out." He told her, holding the joint closer to her face. "This stuff is the shit, just fresh from my guy." He continued to tell her.
Maybe she would have been interested in Draco if he were less cocky, less rude and a bit more sensitive. Something in his bad-boy image had developed over the year that meant she liked him less.
"Do you always insist on speaking like a druggy?" Y/n asked him, watching him carefully as he looked over the railing with his joint.
He retaliated quickly. "Do you always insist on being such a tight ass, Miss Goody-two-shoes?" He couldn't understand why she always seemed to spoil their fun, ever since they were sorted into Slytherin.
She just rolled her eyes at him and stared out into the distance. While he was no longer disturbing her silence he was still disturbing her peace and alone time.
She didn't feel like arguing with him either, it was just too much effort. Draco stood there, smoking his joint while Y/n gazed at the skyline.
“Why are you even out here?” Y/n snapped at him, suddenly feeling annoyed by the smell of his smoking.
“Because I can be, what even is your problem with me?” He was definitely going to find out how she felt now, pushing her to the limits made her snappy.
She rolled her eyes at him, obviously annoyed. “We faced pretty much all of the same challenges in life, but you just became a failure and it really annoys me.”
“Well, you’re just a slut who hooked up with several guys at school, none of which liked you for any reason other than your body.” Draco’s words did hurt her quite a bit, it wasn’t like she didn’t know he hated her but hearing him say that the people she’d been intimate with never actually cared for her hurt.
“Fuck off, Draco.” She told him, carefully.
The look on his face showed her that he was not going to stop for a second. “Just because you don’t like the truth, bitch.”
“Just leave me alone.” She told him, turning away.
Draco couldn’t stop winding her up now, it just brought him too much amusement. “Or what, Y/l/n, will you sleep with me like you did every other guy?”
Y/n turned around and put her hand up to slap Draco’s cheek. It wasn’t as hard as she could have hit him but it was the hardest she ever hit anyone. There was a loud sound as her palm contacted his face.
Still stunned and with her hand in mid-air, Draco snatched her wrist. There they were standing in a face-off, Draco’s slim finger wrapped around her wrist and suddenly there was not one sound. Both of them staring into each other’s eyes. Although Y/n felt threatened, never one to back down from a challenge she scrutinized his eyes.
Draco was seeing red, his least favourite of all the colours. He was like a bull staring down where he was going to charge. The colour of hatred, blood, anger and passion.
The passion she felt for him, it was surging from where he was touching her. He was the energy source that filled her usually with range but now it was amour fou.
In a moment Draco released his grip on her hand and moved his hands to her cheeks. Unlike his prior roughness, his thumb stroked along her cheekbones softly and carefully like he was afraid to break her as he lay his fingers under her jawline.
His softness was a complete shock to Y/n who was still gazing into his eyes. The cold fingertips were more gentle than she’d ever expected, dancing across her jawline with such care. She wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced a touch this delicate.
There they stayed for a few moments, taking each other in. Both of their minds were on the other, brains frenzied trying to figure out how this had happened. Draco was sure he was infatuated with her perfume, obsessed over the perfect blend of coconut and vanilla that was all he could focus on.
Before either of them could think about the consequences their lips were pressed together in a heated kiss. The passion radiated off them, electricity circuiting through them. And it finally felt, for both of them, that every little puzzle piece fit.
Eventually they lips parted, their eyes flickering open. Draco was an inch from her face, not believing just how beautiful she was. He held his hands on her face tighter not wanting to let her slip out of his grip.
“Draco Malfoy, I am 100% in love with you.” Y/n slowly let out. She’d just kissed her arch-enemy so there was no point in not being truthful.
He smirked, that cute little smirk that had only ever annoyed her from across the common room. “Damn it, y/l/n!” He exclaimed with mock anger. “Now we’re going to tell our kids that mum said ‘I love you’ first.” It was odd for Y/n to see him like that as they were usually at each other’s throats. And now he was thinking about their very distant future.
She smiled to match his. “Just tell me it back, you dork.”
“I am 110% in love with you.” Draco counted. “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Y/n’s face turned to worry. “This isn’t a joke, is it?” Usually, this isn’t the type of shit he would pull but she’d never know.
“No, no, no.” His fingers were back stroking her cheeks. “I am really sorry about what I said, believe me, I’ll never say something like that again.”
Something in Y/n knew he wasn’t lying. There was no chance he didn’t feel the same passion he did in the kiss. “Well, you could take me to dinner before you try and get into my panties.”
Draco let out a light laugh, blowing air right onto her face. “Whoever said I wanted to do that, you flirt?”
“Don’t act like you don’t want to fuck me.” The chemistry between them was electric and hot. The pair looking into each other's eyes with desire.
“Let’s go before I do you right here.” Y/n looked at him with challenging eyebrows. “Do you need me to prove it?”
Y/n pulled back from his grip on her face, leaving Draco standing there like an idiot. “Hurry up then.” She said, looking back over her shoulder with a smile as she went to open the patio door.
#Draco Malfoy#Draco#dracomalfoy#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco lucius malfoy#draco imagine#draco one shot#draco angst#draco smut#draco x oc#draco x reader#draco x you#draco x y/n#draco x ravenclaw!reader#draco x hufflepuff!reader#draco x gryffindor!reader#draco x slytherin!reader#draco malfoy series#draco malfoy angst#draco malfoy imagine#Harry Potter#harry potter au#HarryPotter#harry potter imagine#harry potter universe
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Nothing But A Pirate
Killian Jones x Reader
Summary: When the reader thought they had found true love they didn’t think that true love would leave her with a broken heart
Requested by @thenocturnalsyren // Hi. I don’t know if you’re taking requests right now but can I get a Hook x reader where the reader is Regina’s younger sister who she’s very protective of. Regina’s not entirely thrilled that her sister is getting close to Hook, a pirate, and threatens to tear his life apart if he doesn’t break it off before the relationship progresses to just more than friends. Reader is heart broken until one night when Hook drunkenly confesses what happened and his feelings for her.
Join The TagList Here 💜 // Killian Jones Masterlist
“Thanks for a good night Killian” you grinned as he walked you to your front door.
“You needed it” he smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear making you feel like a teenager again.
“I hope you realise you aren’t getting this shirt back any time soon right?” You giggled resting your hands on his chest.
“I know, I mean it looks better on you than it ever did on me” he winked
“I best get going before Regina realises I’m still out” you laughed.
“Love she’s not your mum and you are 26” he smirked.
“I know but you know how overprotective she is of me” you shrugged “but I will see you tomorrow yeah?”
“Yeah you will love” he nodded “now go get some sleep you have work in the morning”
“Oh if I’m tired I’m fully blaming you” you giggled.
“Guilty” he winked.
“Night Killian” you smiled standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“Goodnight Y/N” he smiled hugging you.
Quietly you unlocked the door, waving at Killian before you closed the door as quietly as you could hoping Regina wasn’t still up. You didn’t know what you and Killian were, but you couldn’t deny you were falling for him. Leaning against the front door you couldn’t help but smile at how amazing the night had been, yes you might have been slightly buzzed from the rum but you needed a night like this.
“What time do you call this Y/N/N” Regina said appearing from the kitchen.
“Shit I didn’t realise you were still up” you sighed.
“Where have you been?” She asked raising her eyebrow at you, she didn’t need to ask she knew where you had been but she wanted you to say it.
“Just out” you smiled.
“You were with him again wasn’t you?” She asked.
“Yes I with with Killian” you nodded.
“I’ve told you he is trouble, he is nothing but a pirate” she sighed.
“And I’ve told you before Ree, we are just friends” you sighed as you realised that’s all you would ever be.
“Somehow I don’t quite believe that” she frowned.
“Can I go to bed now?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest.
“Yes” she sighed, moving from the bottom of the stairs to let you up.
Regina had always hated how close you and Killian were but you never let it bother you, he made you feel like no one else had ever done and you were just friends. So her being over protective couldn’t wipe the smile on your face as you made your way into your room.
You couldn’t help it as you got changed for bed, you were going to sleep in his shirt, the smell of leather and spice was intoxicating and you knew you were going to get the best nights sleep wearing his shirt.
Morning soon rolled around, you were disturbed from your sleep from the sound of your alarm blaring in your room making you groan. You were tired from only getting 4 hours sleep but it was so worth it. Rolling out of bed you wiggled your toes in your fluffy rug as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.
You knew you didn’t need to start getting ready straight away so you pulled on a pair of shorts, grabbing your phone you headed downstairs for some much needed coffee.
“Morning Aunt Y/N” Henry grinned from the breakfast bar.
“Morning kiddo” you smiled ruffling his hair making him groan.
“So mums not happy with you” Henry said resting his head on his fists.
“When is she ever happy with me” you laughed as you poured yourself a coffee.
“You went out with Hook again didn’t you” he grinned.
“Yeah I did” you smiled leaning against the counter next to him. “But I don’t know why you are so happy about that kiddo”
“Well you see, you and Hook are meant to be together” he smirked.
“Let me guess it’s in your book!” You asked raising your brow at your nephew. “Look kid, me and Killian are just friends and that’s all it will ever be”
“Trust me” Henry winked.
“Don’t you need to be getting ready for school?” You asked nudging him.
“Nope it’s Saturday” he smirked making you laugh
Checking your phone you saw a text off Ruby asking if you could come on a bit earlier and open up as Granny wasn’t feeling too well.
“Gotta go kid, gotta get ready for work” you nodded kissing Henry’s head.
“You wanted to see me Regina” Killian asked walking into her office.
“Yes take a seat” she nodded. “I wanted to speak to you about Y/N”
He couldn’t help it, a smile formed on his face as your name was mentioned.
“I don’t want you seeing her anymore” she said coldly.
“Excuse me” Killian said in shock “we are just friends”
“See I don’t quite believe that, I’ve seen how you both flirt with each other and nearly every night I know Y/N sneaks out to see you.” She said with no emotion “you are a bad influence on her Killian”
“Like I said we are just friends” he said standing his ground.
“And if you don’t back off and break whatever it is you have going on with my sister before it progresses to more than just friends then I will tear your life apart” she hissed “do you understand?”
He just stared at Regina taking in the words she just spoke. There was nothing he could do, he knew if he didn’t follow her orders she would make your life hell as well.
“You know this will crush her?” He sighed running his hand over his face.
“She will get over it” Regina shrugged.
“You know if you make me do this I’ll have nothing to look forward to. My life will be empty” Killian said quietly.
“I’m sure you will find something to fill your time but it sure as hell won’t be from my sister” she glared “now pass me your phone if you know what’s good for you”
Reluctantly he handed his phone over to her and watched as she typed a message out before handing it back to him.
“Remember Killian I can make your life hell so don’t try anything” she smirked.
Instantly his heart felt heavy as he left the office but there was nothing he could do when Regina had backed him into a corner. As he was walking through the building he checked what she had sent.
New message to: My Trouble Maker 🔥
We can’t see each other any more, I was never your friend. I just felt sorry for you. Do not contact me, I’m done.
And in that moment he felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Ruby I’m taking my break” you shouted as you were walking out the door.
Your break always consisted of taking your coffee and going for a stroll through Storybrooke. You were in a good mood until you got a text off Killian. A text that made you freeze and tears fall instantly. He was just using you. Everything he had ever said was a lie. It was like the weather matched your mood as the bitter wind picked up making you pull your leather jacket tighter around your body. Cutting your wall short you stormed back into the diner and into the bathroom.
Leaning against the sink you tried to calm you breathing down but it was no use, you couldn’t control the sobs as you punched the mirror, watching it shatter like your heart. You knew nothing would ever happen with him but the fact he was just cutting you out of your life stung more than your now bleeding knuckles.
You didn’t even hear the door to the bathroom open until you felt the gentle touch of Mary-Margret as she placed her hand on your shoulder.
“Oh Y/N what happened?” She asked softly.
“Killian fucking Jones happened” you sobbed as she pulled you into her arms.
“Come on let’s get you out of here, we will get your knuckles cleaned up and we can talk” she whispered.
“Okay but what about work?” You whimpered.
“I will speak to Ruby” she said, guiding you out of the bathroom.
As you were waiting by the door, you felt every looking at you. You knew you looked a mess but didn’t care. That was until a certain pirate walked into the diner.
Before he could even reach you Mary-Margret stepped in.
“Don’t even think about it, I don’t know what you have done but you have broken Y/N so just go somewhere else” she hissed as she placed her hand on the small of your back guiding you out of the diner.
You were now sitting on Mary-Margret’s sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket wrapped around you. You had finally managed to stop crying.
“So what’s got you so upset over Killian?” She asked “I thought things were going well with the two of you”
“I thought the same” you sighed “we had an amazing night last night sitting on his ship, drinking rum and him teaching me about the constellations but then today I get this text from him”
Passing her your phone she read the text and sighed.
“Oh Y/N” she whispered.
“I know we were just friends but I thought we could be more you know” you sniffled “he made me feel like no one else has ever done, and then there’s the flirting but I guess it was all lies and I don’t know what to do”
“Why don’t you help me with the fundraiser tonight, it might help take your mind off things even if it is just a couple of hours” she whispered squeezing your knee.
“Thank you” you whimpered. “To make matters worse Henry thinks Killian and I are destined to be together. I don’t know why he thinks that but I know he is going to try and convince me things are going to work out but I really don’t think they will”
“Maybe he is right Y/N look at me and David we had a rocky start but look at us now” she smiled “just give yourself some time, your heart will mend eventually”
“It just hurts” you whispered as a few more tears rolled down your cheek “I thought I meant something to him”
It had been a month and a half since your heart was shattered into a thousand pieces and you were still heartbroken, you weren't as lively as you once were. Nothing felt the same anymore. And right now you didn’t want to be drinking cocktails at Granny’s with Emma, Ruby, Mary-Margret and Belle but they forced you to come out. So you put your best fake smile on and pretended to be having a good night.
Hearing the bell ring as the door opened, you looked up wishing you hadn’t. You walked as Killian stumbled into Granny’s, it was obvious to anyone that he was drunk. And he was making a b line directly for you.
“No I don’t think so Mr” Ruby snapped as she stood up in front of you “she doesn’t care what you have to say especially not when you are drunk so just turn around and go away”
“Y/N please” Killian pleaded.
All it took was one look into his piercing blue eyes for you to cave.
“You have 5 minutes” you sighed, pushing yourself to your feet.
“Are you sure?” Ruby whispered, placing her hand on your arm.
“Yes Rubs I’m sure, if I’m going to get closure to move on I should hear him out” you nodded.
You followed Killian outside, and were relieved that no one was out here. Sitting at one of the tables you placed a cigarette between your lips not wanting to start the conversation.
All it took for Killian to start sobering up was you agreeing to give him 5 minutes of your time and seeing you so broken helped sober him up a bit.
“Love” he whispered sitting next to you. “I’m sorry”
“Is that all you have to say” you scoffed rolling your eyes “because if it is I’m going to go back inside”
“You know I’m never good with words” he sighed “it wasn’t me that sent that text”
“Oh so someone took your phone and sent it then” you laughed.
“Something like that” he nodded “look I didn’t want to cut you out of my life but I had to”
“You didn’t have to do anything Killian” you sighed leaning back in the chair.
“Regina threatened me” he said.
“No you are lying, my own sister wouldn’t do that to me” you snapped.
“She didn’t like that you were spending so much time with me and warned me that if I didn’t break off whatever was going on with us before it progressed then she would tear my life apart” he said as tears burnt his eyes.
Looking up at him you sighed, you knew when people were lying and right now you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.
The two of you sat in silence as you lit another cigarette.
“I thought I told you to stay away from her” Regina’s voice appeared from behind you. “Or have you forgotten what I said.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, he was telling the truth all along.
“Excuse me” you spat standing up, squaring up to your older sister. “It was you”
“Yes it was” she said “I was only doing it to protect you Y/N”
“No what you were doing was making my life hell” you hissed “I’m a big girl now Regina, it’s my life and I can do what I want”
“Can’t you see he is a bad influence on you Y/N, he is just a pirate and he will never change” she said.
“I don’t care if he is just a pirate Ree” you shouted “you had no right doing what you did, and yes to you he might just be a pirate but to me he is more than that, he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Don’t you want me to be happy?”
“You know that’s all I want” she nodded.
“Then back the fuck off and let me live my god damn life, and if I want to spend my time with Killian I will damn well do so” you screamed.
“Fine but don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart” she said “I’m only doing this because I love you”
“You know I love you Ree but right now just go before we both do something we regret” you sighed taking a step back.
You watched as she left, taking a deep breath you ran your hands through your hair knowing full well Killian had just heard every you had just said.
“So” he smiled as you sat back down at the table.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you” you whispered, not looking at him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner what was going on” he said placing his hand under your chin lifting your face up so you were looking at him. “And I’m also sorry for not coming clean about how I felt, I didn’t know if you felt the same way and I thought I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than nothing else. Every night we spent on my ship, drinking and watching the stars were the best nights of my life”
You could help but smile as he wiped away the tears that fell, the feeling of him touching your skin was electrifying. And you couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down to his lips before looking back into his eyes.
#killian jones#killian jones x reader#once upon a time#once upon a time x reader#killian jones fanfiction#killian jones oneshot#killian jones imagine#once upon a time imagine#once upon a time oneshot
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Yo but like PC finally getting pregnant from the whole ordeal and instead of crawling to Whitney they skip town with Kylar.
oh my gooooodddd your mind anon
you go crying to kylar when the test comes back positive, too scared of whitney's potential reactions. you're sobbing, hands clinging to the front of his hoodie as you drench the dark fabric with tears.
what are you going to do, you wail. even if whitney doesn't punish you for this, you have no idea what bailey will do if he finds out - even the best case scenario of him just increasing your rent still has you raising your baby in the orphanage, and you can't allow them to grow up there and risk them ending up like you.
kylar cradles you as you cry, stroking your hair and whispering about how amazing you are, you're going to be the best mum ever, but this town is no place to raise a child.
he's right, of course. you need to get out while you still can. and kylar, sweet, devoted kylar, offers to come with you, helps shove whatever scant belonging you can carry into a bag. takes you to the bus station, holds your hands to stop them from trembling while the two of you - three of you, technically - wait for the bus to whisk you away from this shithole coastal town.
at first, whitney isn't that concerned when you're absent from math class. hell, its still early. maybe his plan worked, and now you're late for class because of morning sickness - that'll be useful for making you dependant on him, he thinks, when you're so woozy from hormones that you can't even make it to class without his help. he doesn't see you in the hallways after class, either, and it pisses him off a bit that you haven't seeked him out yet, but whatever.
it's at lunch when he realises something is actually wrong. really, really, fucked-up-beyond-all-repair wrong. he's seen you with robin enough times to know they're a fellow orphan and one of your friends, and evidently robin knows...something was going on between you and whitney. they're almost hysterical when they come up to him as he's about to jump the fence, begging and pleading for him to tell them that he's seen you, that he knows where you are.
you're gone, they tell him, and they don't think you're coming back because you're stuff is gone, too, and oh god what if bailey really got rid of you once and for all-
he manages to get his shock under control, shrugging and climbing the fence. when he drops down on the other side, he stares through the bars at robin, their shoulders shaking as they bite back sobs.
"they'll turn up, eventually," he says, as close to comforting as he can muster without disrupting his aloof facade. he turns away, shoves past his friends, tells them to fuck off when they try to follow him. pulling his phone out, he tries kylar's number (the freak has no idea whitney has it, but he needs a way to keep tabs on him) and it goes straight to an automated "number out of service" recording and, oh, whitney thinks he knows what happened and he's furious.
that fucking freak, that obsessed little weirdo, taking more than he was allowed to have. taking whitney's property. couldn't leave well enough alone once he'd had a taste of you, and now that little psycho has kidnapped you and locked you up somewhere.
well, whitney supposes he's going to have to call in a favour from his older brother. it's a hassle, but he's not going to let kylar fuck up his plans.
#whitney the bully#kylar the loner#anon#cupid's love spells#tw pregnancy#u can imagine either wren or harper as whitney's older brother for that one line but yeah 💘
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