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cameronspecial · 5 months

Note

aquarium date with the angel anthology?i live ur writing it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy like i have a crush

Let Me Touch The Stingray, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

A/N: Thank you! It means so much to me that you love my writing and I'm so glad that it makes you feel warm and fuzzy because I know how good it feels when a fanfic does that to you!

Masterlist

Date nights happen at least once a month and they take turns on who gets to decide what they do. It’s Y/N’s turn to pick and she wants to go to the aquarium. Rafe would never admit this to her, but he thinks it’s rather childish. He is still going to pay for it and put on a smile though. He’ll buy any food or souvenir she’ll want. He’ll take any picture she wants. He would never do anything to make her feel bad, but he just doesn’t see himself truly enjoying looking at fish for hours. Y/N bounces on the tip of the toes and holds their tickets in her grip. She insisted on printing them out. She always prints date stuff out to keep them in a scrapbook. He takes in her excitement, smiling down at how cute she looks. “Do you think that there will be turtles? I really want to see a turtle. They are so cute,” she excites, looking up at him with big eyes. He kisses her cheek, “There must be a turtle in there somewhere, but if there isn’t, then I’ll buy us a ticket to anywhere they have turtles.” “You don’t have to do that, Rafe,” she says. He shakes his head, “But I want to.”

They get to the front of the line pretty quickly and go through the local aquatic life section pretty fast. Y/N wanted to get to the turtles. They go through the tanks that are a tunnel, standing on the carpets and taking in the scene. She taps on Rafe’s arm excitedly and points at somewhere in the tank, “Rafe, Rafe. Look! It’s a turtle. Take a picture of me with it.” Rafe follows her finger to see the green reptile. He quickly pulls out his phone and takes a video of Y/N as the sea creature passes.

As they walk through the exhibit, Y/N notices that Rafe isn’t as excited about the animals as she is and she tries everything she can to get him to match her energy. They near the end of the aquarium and Y/N still hasn’t succeeded. The only thing left is the touch tank, which she isn’t sure she wants to go to because of how much bacteria is probably in the water. She is about to lead Rafe through this section when she notices the curiosity in his eyes. He wants to know what the stingrays feel like, but he doesn’t want to ask his girlfriend to stop. This day is about her. Her feet stand still for a second, causing him to bump into her. He looks down at her to see what’s wrong. “You want to touch the stingrays?” she asks. He nods his head like a child, “Please let me touch the stingray, Angel.” Her mouth turns into a grin. “Of course, Rafe.” He lets go of her hand and runs to the back of the line. Y/N slowly follows, snuggling under his arm as they wait in line.

They get to the front of the line and Y/N can’t keep up with Rafe. He leans over the edge of the tank, reaching down to feel the skin of the animal. The flat creature comes close to Rafe and he finally gets to feel it. It’s a lot spongier than he thought. His hand jerks back in surprise and he lets out a deep chuckle. “You liked how that felt. Didn’t you?” she comments, taking his hand in hers so they can head to the gift shop. He looks at her in adoration, “Yes! It felt so cool. You have to feel it.” He spots the stingray coming back around and dives both their hands toward it. She feels the smooth texture, yipping when the pad of her fingers touches a hard part. She stumbles back into him and he wraps his arm around her.

They leave the touch tank section, heading to the gift shop. When they leave the store, Rafe is carrying every stingray and turtle item he sees in the store. Let’s just say Ward Cameron will be very surprised once he sees his credit card statement for this month.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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chiisana666 · 18 days

Text

a sweet treat

synopsis: luffy's heightened senses can evidently pinpoint more than just the smells of delicious food

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, implied virgin! luffy x fem! reader, pussy drunk! luffy, menstruation, cunnilingus, me making things up, dubious consent, pussy sniffing, nasty, inappropriate use of gum-gum powers, out of character for luffy (idk it's subjective), hair pulling

wc: 2141

notes: image sourced from pinterest, credits for dividers here. not beta-read. this the first fanfic i've written in 8 or 9 years, i hope y'all like it. i'm excited to start writing more :)

Up until today, you had been handling your first period at sea fairly well. Perhaps it was the change in latitude, or your change in attitude, but the seas had a mysterious ability to ward off Mother Nature for many months. Nami and Robin had been quick to reassure you that the extension of your menstrual cycle was not unexpected; they, too, had experienced this bizarre phenomenon when they had each first set sail, respectively. But after several months of peace, your luck had appeared to run out, and Mother Nature had reclaimed her stake in your body once more. The salty ocean air did little to soothe your cramps, but Nami and Robin had been more than happy to help lighten your chore load, allowing you to focus more on taking care of yourself. All in all, the first few days were a breeze.

Then the third day came. You could feel the squelching between your thighs as you stirred awake and groggily stumbled to the bathroom to freshen up. It was going to be a heavy flow day, but that would not be your main problem. No, the issues began when you made your way onto the deck of the Thousand Sunny.

Luffy sat, relaxed against the mast on the lower deck, hat tilted to shield his face from the glaring sun when a scent wafted by his nose. He immediately perked up and deeply inhaled; it was saccharine, rich with undertones of iron, and oh-so delectable. Luffy had to find whatever delicious treat was emulating such an intoxicating smell. Rising to his feet, he inhaled again and let his nose lead the way.

Luffy had stalked across the lower deck and climbed the staircases to the uppermost deck at the stern of the ship, pausing every few steps to take a sniff and ensure he was still on the right track. The scent, he found, led straight to you, who was leaning over the rail, gaze fixed on the waves ebbing and flowing alongside the Sunny. You were entranced when suddenly startled from the serene view by a figure at your back and a nose prodding at your neck.

“What the hell!” you shrieked as you whipped around to confront whichever man had decided to perve on you this time. Expecting to find Sanji, you were shocked to be faced with the wide-eyed, raven-haired captain.

“What’s that smell?” he asked after a brief, awkward stare-down between the pair of you, a dribble of drool breaching the corner of his mouth.

“Smell! What-“ you careened your head to the side in an attempt to sniff yourself, “What smell, Luffy?”

Luffy dropped to kneel before you, hands grasping at your hips and pulling your pelvis to his face. He pushed his nose into your lower abdomen and inhaled again, letting out a stifled groan as he peered up to meet your eyes.

Your jaw slightly hung open, hands gripping the rail behind you, “Luffy, what are you-“

You were cut off by Luffy wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging your body into him, a small squeak escaping your throat as your thighs hit his chest.

“Smells s’good…” he sighed, “Lemme have a taste.”

You eyed him for a moment, taken aback at how suddenly forthcoming your captain was acting. Of all the perverts on the ship, Luffy was the last one you would have expected to be on his knees, practically begging to eat your pussy. And in such a public setting no less. Not that you necessarily minded; Luffy had many attractive qualities that had left lingering thoughts in your mind on more than one occasion. But even so, this type of behavior was very unbecoming of him and somewhat concerning.

“Luffy… are you alright?” You inquired, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead beneath the brim of his hat. He nuzzled up into your hand and pawed at your hips, which remained entrapped between his forearms and torso.

“Wanna taste,” he repeated, “please…”

And who were you to deny him? Especially when he asked so politely. You reached down and gingerly caressed his cheek, brushing your thumb across the faint scar beneath his left eye. He mewled like a bitch in heat – a tad ironic considering it was you who was menstruating. Without saying another word, you wriggled free from his grasp and sauntered towards his private quarters. Luffy was quick to beeline behind you, tethered to an invisible leash that you held in your grasp.

Upon entering his quarters, you perched yourself on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, right leg crossed over your left. Luffy stood near the door, suddenly finding himself unsure of how to proceed. He hadn’t expected his investigation to conclude that the sweet smell was emulating from your cunt, and the reality of the situation began to sober his drunken mind. He had never even seen a pussy before, let alone touched or tasted one. Luffy rarely even thought about sex; not that he was a completely hopeless virgin, no, he wasn’t stupid when it came to sex. But before now, there had been more important things that garnered his attention. So, for the first time in a very long while, he felt lost.

You were quick to notice his sudden apprehension and your gaze softened as you called to him, “C’mere Lu.”

He approached the bed and took ahold of your outstretched hand. Your thumb soothingly grazed his knuckles, “We don’t have to do this-“

“No!” And he was back, the scent that kissed his nostrils reminding him why he was here. He had to have a taste.

You smirked at him, tugging off your shorts and underwear. He caught a glimpse of the pad tucked into your panties as you discarded them on the floor but paid little mind. He didn’t care if his meat was a little bloody, why would pussy be any different? Besides, laundry day was on the horizon anyway.

You crawled towards the headboard, resting your upper torso against it, and spreading your legs, giving Luffy a full view of your crimson-tinted flower. Almost too eagerly, he pounced on the bed and fixed himself between your thighs. The smell that first caught his attention was stronger than ever. He inquisitively raised an index and ring finger to spread your lips, running his middle up along your slit, before bringing them to his lips. Luffy’s eyes rolled back, and he moaned at the taste, a mixture of your essence and blood danced on his taste buds, and he savored every drop. It was heavenly.

“Oh Lu…” You sigh, one hand entangled in his inky locks, keeping his face and tongue anchored to your pussy.

Luffy’s straw hat and red vest lay on the floor beside his bed, having been carelessly tossed aside long ago. He’s relentless, ravaging your pussy like a starved man. And in a way, he is starved. He cursed every day you had spent on his ship thus far not in his bed. Perhaps it was idolatrous of him, but Luffy vowed to worship you for every waking moment that you remained a part of his crew. Perhaps he had finally found the One Piece.

Luffy has one arm wrapped around your right thigh, and the other stretched up to fondle your breasts and tweak your nipples through the cotton of your tight top, all while lapping at your hole and suckling your clit. You had long since slipped down the headboard, head now thrown back against one of his pillows. Breathy moans slip through your agape lips with ease. As hard as he tries to keep his gaze transfixed on your angelic face, wanting to burn the image into his mind, he finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open, drowning in his pleasure. Between your hand in his hair and your cunt gyrating against his face, Luffy cannot help but grind his hips into the mattress.

A particularly harsh nip to your clit has you yanking his head up by his hair, eliciting a guttural moan from the captain.

“Gentle!” You chastise, taking a moment to relish in his appearance: his chin and lips are painted in a carmine glaze, and his blown-out pupils beg for your forgiveness. “Behave yourself,” you add before shoving his face back into your dripping hole. And Luffy wastes no time getting back to work.

Using the power of the devil fruit, Luffy extends his tongue to fuck deeper into your hole, curling and flicking the wet muscle along your gummy walls. Feeling a familiar pressure building within your core, you maneuver your unoccupied hand down your body, employing two fingers to rub feverous circles on your aching clit. Your captain, generous as he is, is quick to toss your hand aside and replace it with his that had been previously occupied with your boobs. His palm took purchase laying atop your mound, and his thumb strokes your clit in the manner he had just observed you doing.

“Mmm ya learn fast… so g-good f’me,” you heave between moans and spurts of pants, slightly lifting your head to gaze down at him. Luffy, feeling your stare, forces his eyes open to meet yours, subconsciously fucking his hips harder into the mattress beneath him. It was becoming too much for him: between your sweet juices, the praises escaping your lips, and the friction of his denim shorts rubbing his bare cock, he knew he would be cumming soon.

You can feel the vibrations of his moans against your sopping cunt becoming more frequent, increasing in tandem with the shaking of the bed, a result of the violent thrusts of his pelvis.

“F-fuck Lu, gonna c-cum,” you mewled, burying his face impossibly further into your pussy and bucking your hips to match the rhythm of his tongue fucking you and his thumb playing with your clit. You were teetering on the edge of pure euphoria, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you drew near. Luffy was barely holding himself together, so close as well but in desperate need of one thing to send him over.

His tongue brushes along a particularly sensitive spot on the roof of your cunt, and you are pushed over. Your entire body convulses as waves of pleasure electrify you, toes curling and thighs crushing Luffy between them.

The essence of release mixed with the metallic tang of your menses is all Luffy needed, his hips faltering their thrusts as thick ropes of milky cum soil the interior of his shorts. His eyes roll back, and a throaty moan emulates from his stained lips, muffling against your cunt that was still cemented against his face.

Luffy lulls slightly on his side, resting his head atop your left thigh which had since ceased to sandwich his head between your right, eyes still clenched shut and body twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Never before had he felt such intense, unadulterated gratification. He was overwhelmingly high, mind fuzzy from the ecstasy that held him prisoner. Globs of saliva trickle down his tinted chin and pool on your thigh, as tears and beads of sweat stream down his face.

When your consciousness ventured back to reality, you observed his state: Luffy had fucked himself completely stupid, all thanks to your exquisite cunt. The sight is almost as rewarding as your orgasm was. Retaining a quip, you instead tenderly stroke his cheek with the hand that was once knotted in his tendrils.

“Hey, look at me…” you call softly. His bleary eyes inch open, unable to clearly make out your face, “Breathe Lu… did so good honey.”

He takes your command into account, focusing his pants until they calm into deep, controlled breaths. Once Luffy had somewhat composed himself, you used what little strength remained to tug him up towards you. He hovers above you, caging your head in with his forearms. One of your arms snakes around his neck, pulling him down to capture his swollen lips with your own. The kisses are sweet and gentle; moist pops lingering in the air as your lips caress Luffy’s. Your fingers massage at the base of his crown as you two share languid pecks, reveling in intimate bliss.

Disconnecting for a brief moment, you nudged him to the side, and he rolled onto his back next to you. You sat up and tore off your sweat-soaked top before hooking a leg across Luffy, your now naked body sticking to his bare chest. Again, your lips met his, this time more deeply, and sensually than before.

“I think,” you drawled between kisses, still enraptured in the make-out session, fingertips dancing across his scarred chest as they journeyed to the button of his shorts, “I need to taste you now, Captain.”

#luffy x reader #luffy smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut #luffy x you

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talewrites · 22 days

Text

Fragile Part 4

Remember Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle? Well, that’s you this chapter :]

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’ and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, wholesome, lots of cleaning, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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“You IDIOTS!” A crash resounded in the room as Stockman knocked over a table full of metal tools. “How could you let go the ONE MUTANT that survived all the testing phases!” Another crash as beakers and chemicals were knocked off a table. “I never should have left you FOOLS in charge of guarding the lab. This could set us back months of progress. If we don’t find that girl, Karai will have my head!”

With an angry huff Stockman fell into his dusty office chair and spun over to his computer. He was working on updating all the computer systems there in the old Sacks building. He had joined the Foot in taking up residence there since you had compromised their position at the warehouse laboratory by the docks. They couldn’t risk a raid from the turtles and losing all his research. This location wasn’t the most inconspicuous considering its history, but since the Shredder’s initial defeat at the hands of the turtles and April, the building had been deemed unstable and labeled condemned. Since it was difficult to dismantle such a large skyscraper in the middle of the city, it had been mostly left unoccupied for the past several years. Making it the ideal base for Foot activity.

As he was sorting through old records on the computer, he came across an interesting clip in the archived surveillance videos.

“Hmm…. interesting…. Yes, if I do that- yes…. YES! This will work nicely.” Stockman chuckled darkly to himself as he got up from his chair. Bebop and Rocksteady shared a confused look and shrugged, not understanding the sudden change in the scientist’s mood.

“Uuuuuh, hey boss, so what are we going to do about them?”

“You two aren’t going to do anything. …. yet.” Baxter’s dark chuckle echoed as he disappeared down the hallway.

It has been 2 weeks since you met the turtles.

Initially, April had brought you a duffle bag full of comfy clothes a little bit too big for you, and some essential toiletries. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a hot shower with conditioner and soft sweatpants to put on after. Leo’s bed was warm and clean, Michelangelo cooked you delicious comfort food, and Donatello downloaded all of your favorite movies and shows you had missed. Raph one night had even knit you a cozy cardigan. The boys were all making an effort to make you feel more comfortable. But you couldn’t help but notice the reason.

You were still scared.

Every night you woke to terrible nightmares. And every day you felt like you were still walking on broken glass. Startling at any sudden sound or slightest touch. You noticed how Leo looked at you with pity, and Mikey wore a faltering smile. Donnie kept busy working on tracking the Foot, aside from regularly changing your bandages, and Raph- Raph just tried to keep his distance.

You didn’t blame them. You were a stranger in their home. You were finally in a safe place, but it was like your body was still in survival mode. High strung and anxious. You wanted to do something for them. Anything, to repay them and make yourself feel useful. A distraction.

Master Splinter had on many occasions noticed your stressed and mousy demeanor. He felt the unease in their home and the distance his sons kept with their new ward. Like neither party knew how to find common ground.

One night, he requested you join him in his meditation room for tea. You obliged.

“I sense your unease.” He stated casually.

You hesitated, then nodded. You didn’t know how to respond.

“There is nothing to be ashamed about. For so long, you lived every day, not knowing if it would be your last. You lost your autonomy, your freedom. And yet you escaped all on your own. You are very brave.”

“….Thank you. I just wish I could feel that way. I feel so… scared. Like I’ll wake up back in that lab again and all of this would have been a dream. I… I don’t know what to do with myself.” You fussed with the teacup in your hands.

Splinter reached across the table and offered you his hand as a comfort. You took it gently and sighed.

“It will take time before you begin to feel like yourself again. My boys can be a little… reserved at times. It is not often we get to interact with friendly humans. Trust me when I say, they also wish for your comfort and safety. It just may take some time for them to get used to another presence in our home. In the meantime, perhaps there is something you can do that will make you feel more at home?”

You were surprised by his suggestion. They had already offered their home up to you, you wouldn’t dare ask anything more of them. But maybe…

“….a-actually… there might be something. If I could have your permission of course.”

Splinter smiled at you.

Once your injuries had fully healed, Splinter had called upon April and Casey’s help to assist you. There was some materials you needed of course, and Mikey was let in on the big secret. You felt guilty roping in so many people just to help you feel more comfortable, but there was something you wanted to do for them, as a thank you for taking you in. April seemed ecstatic at the proposition and was eager to bring you the supplies. Casey just seemed confused that this was something you wanted to do of your own free will. And Mikey- well, he was just excited to share a hobby with you.

The cooking part, that is. Not the cleaning.

Ever since you had been brought down to the lair for safe keeping, you had noticed one glaringly obvious thing. This was a man cave in every sense of the word. The lair was terribly dirty. Dust and grime everywhere. The only clean places you noticed were the dojo, Leo’s room, and Master Splinter’s quarters. You understood that they were all living in a sewer, and they had clearly made a bit of an effort to keep it clean. But you were through avoiding sticky spots on the floor and sitting on a dirty couch.

First things first: Donnie’s dirty coffee mug hoard. The purple turtle was currently napping in his room after an all nighter doing surveillance in coordination with the police, so now was the perfect time to clean up his station. You were extremely grateful to April for including a pair of rubber gloves in the bags of cleaning supplies she brought for you. Mikey helped you collect all the mugs and bring them to the sink, where he was in charge of washing them while you cleaned off all of Donnie’s work tables where he tinkered. You were careful not to move any projects, but wiped it clean of all its dust and stains. Then carefully sanitized all his keyboards and mouse, cleaned all of the monitors (yes all of them), and swept away the crumbs on the floor around his chair.

Once that was complete, you moved on to the living room. Leo was currently preoccupied meditating with Master Splinter in the dojo, so no one was around to notice you swoop in and descend on the couch. Thankfully the boys no longer had a couch made of empty pizza boxes, and had upgraded to a large sectional that Casey had found them used for cheap up top. You were certain that the couch covers had never been washed since it was brought down to the sewers. You were doubly certain that the boys probably didn’t even know the cushion covers could be removed and washed. You threw the covers into the washing machine on hot water with a healthy amount of soap. Mikey then helped you move the couch so you could clean the floor underneath, and smashed the cockroach that had scrambled out from underneath. The coffee table was wiped down, the rug was taken to a railing to be hung and the dust beat out by Mikey with his nunchucks, and the floor mopped clean.

Next was the workout room. Raph had just finished his exercise and left for the bathroom to take a shower, so you rushed in and started cleaning off every dusty and grimy sweat covered surface you could find. There was a musky scent of dirt and sweat permeating the room. All the dumbbells had a build up of grime from their sweaty hands using them for so many years. You also made sure to sanitize all of the mats and floors as well. By the time you were finished, Raph was leaving the shower and went to his room. You hid so he wouldn’t notice you as he passed by, unassuming. Then you were left with the big task.

The bathroom.

You were certain if there was a soundtrack playing in the background, dramatic horror music would be playing. You rolled up your sleeves and went in. Toilets, showers, sinks, and the massive bathtub, all scrubbed down with an unholy amount of bleach until every tiled surface shined. By the time you were finished, Mikey had come in to tell you he was ready to start on the kitchen. That was Mikey’s domain.

You were grateful that all the dishes were already clean by the time you entered the kitchen. But Mikey needed your help when it came to the cupboards and fridge.

“Mikey? ….Why do you have 3 year old expired sour cream in the fridge?”

“Huh? Isn’t it supposed to be ‘sour’? It still looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Mikey there is black mold growing in it.”

“Oh, so…. That’s not pepper then.”

By the time you had finished clearing out the fridge and cupboards of everything expired or moldy, you had filled 3 trash bags full of garbage. Mikey helpfully took out the trash while you cleaned and organized the fridge and cupboards, and wiped down all the surfaces. By the time Mikey returned, you were rifling through the brown paper bag April got you full of ingredients and spices you had requested.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Mikey cheerfully greeted you as he rejoined you in the now clean kitchen.

“Well… if I remember the recipe correctly, I want to make the dish my mom always made for me…”

Mikey looked at you surprised for a moment, then excitement overtook him. “Cool! Can I help?”

You perked up at the suggestion. “Will you? I’d,… I’d love that, thank you!” Your expression melted into a warm smile, and Mikey felt his heart skip a beat.

You looked so pretty when you smiled, he thought to himself.

He wanted to see you smile more, just like that.

You both washed your hands and got to work. On the freshly clean kitchen counter, you had Mikey kneed cold butter into flour to make a dough, while you cut vegetables and cooked chicken on the stove. By the time Mikey was ready with the dough, there were 6 pie tins lined up to add the crust. The oven dinged and the base crust went in to brown while you stirred a large pot on the stove. Then you took out the pies and added the filling, and covered the tops with more dough. You were surprised at how large their oven was, but they were 4 giant mutant turtles and a rat. You had no doubt that each of the boys would eat a whole pie themself. The extra 2 were for Splinter, you, April, and Casey, who would be joining everyone later.

Once the oven door closed, Mikey turned up the radio that had been quietly humming tunes in the background as a fun song you hadn’t heard before played through the speakers. (‘Bad idea right?’ by Olivia Rodrigo started playing.) Mikey’s head started bobbing and he grabbed the wooden spoon you had been stirring with and began mouthing the words into it like a microphone. You giggled at his antics as he pointed a green finger at you and beckoned you out into the open of the room. You felt drawn to join him as the pop song got your head bobbing to the beat. You felt a feeling well up in your chest as the chorus started building up. Excitement bubbling until the chorus peaked and your head bobbing turned into jumping around. Before you knew it, you were dancing around the living room with Mikey holding your hands and spinning you around. You lost yourself in the freeing feeling of the stress and anxiety getting washed away by the music. All the cleaning you had done was so stress relieving you were starting to feel like yourself again.

Little did you know, the music had drawn the attention of the other brothers. Leo and Master Splinter came out from their meditation to watch in the doorway, Leo smiled and crossed his arms as he looked at you. Raph came out freshly dressed and looked surprised but shared a look with Leo that made them smirk at you and their little brother’s antics. Then Donnie trudged out and leaned against his door frame and fixed his glasses to make sure he was in fact seeing you correctly.

You were smiling, laughing, and dancing.

“It seems as though we are seeing Miss (y/n) for the first time today.” Mused Splinter, the old rat brushing his beard.

Just then April and Casey walked in, carrying boxes they had brought down from up top.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” April asked putting down her box.

You were happily giggling as Mikey spun you around at the end of the song. April grinned, happily surprised at the scene. Casey walked in behind her and started looking around the lair like he was seeing it for the first time, setting his box down next to April’s. This prompted Leo, Raph, and Donnie to also take a better look around their home. They slowly all walked out into the living space, looking in all directions.

“.... Where did all my coffee cups go…?”

“Hm? Oh! They’re washed and in the cupboard!” You answered cheerily.

“.... Does…. Does the gym smell like oranges?” Raph said, baffled.

“.... Where did all the dust go? ….Does the couch look clean to you?” Leo nudged Donnie to bring his attention to the freshly washed couch covers.

There was a beat of heavy silence as the boys took in the new state of their home, then the timer above the oven dinged and you ran over to put on your oven mitts.

“The food’s ready!” You called out cheerfully.

In the next few minutes, everyone was sitting around the small kitchen table. Each turtle with a full pie in front of them, and large slices cut for Splinter, April, and Casey, and a smaller cut for yourself.

“Damn, what’s this? Smells great!” Casey exclaimed.

“My mom showed me how to make this, it’s chicken pot pie. I hope you like it!” You said a bit shyly now that you had calmed down a bit.

You watched as all the boys and April picked up a spoon and dug in, taking their first bite. There was a chorus of groans of approval as the boys hummed approvingly around their bite.

“Oh my god my mouth is singing!” Mikey exclaimed, trying to shovel the pie into his mouth.

“How did you manage to get this level of flakiness into the crust? Was there any special preparation when kneading the dough?” Donnie questioned. Then Mikey mumbled out around a full mouth, ‘cold butter, dude’ which Donnie had to ask him to repeat when his mouth wasn’t full.

“Wow… I’ve never had anything like this before. Did you make this?” Leo asked. Raph was grunting in approval with each new bite he took, absorbed in his food from across the table.

You blushed and nodded. It didn’t take long for everyone to clean their plates. Casey, Mikey, and Raph all fought for seconds. Master Splinter and April were sharing very pleased looks on their faces, like they were conspiring all along. Once everyone was finished, you stood up and started to collect plates from the table.

“Oooooh no, you did enough cleaning today, let someone else take a turn, shortie.” Raph stood up to stop you.

“I don’t mind, really!” You urged, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking and bumped into Mikey who was taking his own plate to the sink.

The plate dropped from his hand in surprise, and faster than anyone could react, your freehand shot out and grabbed the plate. There was a cracking sound and everyone froze to look at you. There you were, balancing 5 large heavy ceramic plates stacked in one hand, while your other hand was holding onto Mikey’s plate that had cracked and fractured in your grip. You were stunned.

“Woah… what just happened?” Mikey broke the silence.

Part 5

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

#tmnt fanfic #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt imagines #bayverse donatello #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse leonardo #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse!tmnt

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hp-hcs · 5 months

Note

Can you write a Theo x reader that’s super angsty. Here’s what I’m thinking; Theo is a death eater (forced to be by his father.) and y/n is a slytherin but joined dumbledores army with the golden trio. So it’s like they’re fighting on opposite sides- theo believes he can feed the other side information and work as a spy sort of like snape. Maybe something where during the battle at hogwarts where they find each other/ someone’s hurt etc. or Theo is found out as a spy and gets tortured or something. I need a solid cry. I lovveee fanfics but sometimes I need more book accurate stories ya know? - Tysm in advance! I followed on my writing acc. And I’ll be on the lookout! You’re the best! :)

uh careful what you wish for ig? idk what this is

requests? i have to spend the week at my parents and i just cannot 🫠

it’s too late — ex-death eater! order of the phoenix! theodore nott x gn! order of the phoenix! reader

WARNINGS: uh angst, no happy ending, graphic descriptions of character death, graphic descriptions of blood and gore, the ineradicability of hope despite the futility of effort?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ooh, Y/N,” Theodore waggles his eyebrows with a silly grin. “Love the outfit. You should wear my clothes more often.”

“God, I am trying to eat my breakfast,” Harry grumbles, pretending to gag.

You stick your tongue out at him and smooth out the front of your sweater, the one you ‘borrowed’ from Theodore’s trunk. You move past Harry’s chair, ruffling his hair as you pass, and head towards the kitchen to help Tonks and Mrs. Weasley clean up breakfast.

The Order had retreated once more to 12 Grimmauld Place as Death Eater attacks began to grow nearer and nearer every day. Theodore Nott, a Death Eater defector (can someone even be a defector if they never supported the cause in the first place?) was hiding out with the Order, as the group’s informant and spy.

Ron shot Theo a dirty look, frowning. It was no secret that the Trio didn’t fully trust Theodore, even despite his Unbreakable Vow to the cause. “Pass me the butter?”

Theo schooled his features into a neutral, impassive expression, sliding the butter dish across the table.

“Thanks,” Ron mumbled tersely, not meeting his eyes.

Theo nodded stiffly in acknowledgment. “Uh, anyways, there’s another meeting today. I’ll be gone this afternoon, but I should be back by this evening.”

“Meeting? There’s not supposed to be another meeting,” Remus Lupin looked up from his copy of the Prophet, eyebrows furrowing.

“No. But those Eaters that got arrested yesterday? In Diagon Alley?” Theo reaches over the table to tap to front page of Remus’ newspaper, where a large headline proclaims ‘TEN DEAD—Five Death Eaters Arrested’. “Ol’ Moldy Voldy’s pissed.”

Remus grimaces. “Should we se-”

An uncomfortable tugging sensation settles on all of the occupants’ bodies, the fizz of magic snapping and popping filling the air.

Sirius, with a piece of toast halfway in his mouth, looks up, startled. He mumbles something around his bite of food, dropping his toast and standing up.

“What was that?” Harry asks, reaching for his wand.

“The wards,” Sirius says anxiously. “Somebody’s here. Somebody with ill intent.”

As if on cue, the back door of Grimmauld slammed open, the doorframe splintered and cracked with the force of it.

You jump to your feet, wand in hand, ready to run in guns ablazing. But Theo shoves you behind him, his fingers curled tight into the fabric of your sweater to keep you from running back out into the fray.

In the doorway stands a large figure, swathed in black with a terrifyingly uncanny inhuman mask. The figure wastes no time in raising their wand, firing off a quick Crucio at Harry, who tumbles to the ground immediately.

The figure is joined by three other monstrous forms, who shove past them with alacrity. The four figures are immediately engaged in a frantic fight, ending with one of them being hit over the head by Tonks with a baseball bat portkey, two of them being Stupefied, and the last one standing menacingly in the center of the wrecked kitchen, holding their side where they’re actively bleeding from a well-aimed Sectumsempra from Harry.

You’d never seen anything like that spell before, and you watched the effects in fascinated horror.

The figure sinks to its knees, coughing loudly. It hastily pulls off its mask, wet blood dribbling from its mouth and running down its- his chin.

In front of you, Theo stiffens, his fingers clenching in your sweater.

“Theodore,” the man on the floor rasps, grinning maniacally as he hacked out more blood. “Traitor.”

“F-father-”

The man scrambles for his wand. “The Dark Lord sends his regards. Avada Kedavra!”

Theodore falls to the floor with a loud thunk, his body limp and empty. You drop to your knees beside him. It’s loud. Someone’s screaming.

You realize it’s you.

You desperately cup his face in your hands, trying to get him to wake up, to say got you! and laugh.

But he remains still.

You can barely tell that you’re frantically muttering every healing spell you know.

It’s no use.

You feel a heavy hand rest on your shoulder. Looking up, you can vaguely tell through your tears that it’s Ron, his bright red hair acting as a beacon. Ron shakes his head slowly. He says something, you can see his lips moving, but no sound comes out. Your head feels underwater; everything seems distorted.

You grip Theodore’s hand (so cold, so dead) in yours, sobbing out pleas to Merlin, to Salazar, to God, to whoever is out there.

It’s too late.

He’s gone.

~~~

“Pass me the butter? Thanks.”

“Anyways, there’s another meeting today. I’ll be gone this afternoon, but I should be back b-”

“Theo!”

He falls silent, looking up at you, confused.

“Theo, they’re coming. They know you’ve double crossed them.”

Theodore blinks.

He starts laughing.

“Y/N, hon. I think the stress is starting to get to you,” he smiles gently and presses a kiss to your cheek. “They know nothing.”

“No, it’s not! I-”

“Sweetheart, this anxiety of yours isn’t helping anyone right now,” Mrs. Weasley put her hands on your shoulders. “How about you go lie down for a bit, dear. I’ll bring you a cup of tea in a minute. Go on,” she gently shoos you from the kitchen despite your protests.

You’re ushered out into the hallway, and you can hear the click of the kitchen door’s lock. You scoff, offended and upset. You can hear the indistinct murmurs of everyone behind the door.

Why didn’t they believe you?

A now semi-familiar tugging sensation settles on your skin, the sound of warning magic filling the air.

You gasp. You run to the kitchen door, banging on it. “No, wait! Theo- let me in!”

You hear louder murmurs, then a crashing sound of what must’ve been the door splintering, just like before.

You bang louder on the door, jiggling the door handle. You can hear the sounds of the fight breaking out and you scream, hammering your fists against the kitchen door.

Then you hear it.

“Theodore. Traitor.”

“F-father-”

“The Dark Lord sends his regards. Avada Kedavra!”

It’s too late.

He’s gone.

~~~

“Theodore. Traitor.”

“F-father-”

“The Dark Lord sends his regards. Avada Kedavra!”

You tackle Theo to the ground just in time, ducking under the spell.

His head hits the ground with a stomach churning crack. His face goes blank and the light in his eyes is snuffed out all at once. Blood slowly starts pooling around his skull.

It’s too late.

He’s gone.

~~~ “Avada Kedav-”

You leap in front of Theodore.

The spell reflects off of the odd golden hourglass charm you wear around your neck.

The green burst bounces around the room like a pinball machine. It’d be comical if it wasn’t deadly.

It bounces off of the saucepan on the stove, rebounding. With no preamble, hits Theodore straight in the chest.

He falls with a sickening whumph.

It’s too late.

He’s gone.

~~~

You fall to your knees at the same time as Theo’s body hits the floor.

You sob out, clutching your chest over your heart.

Why?

Why couldn’t you save him?

“Because it’s futile.”

You look up, thick tears streaming down your face.

The man on the floor, Theodore’s father, gives you a bloodstained grin. His red-streaked fingers help him claw his way across the floor over to you, a streak of blood smearing across the floor, marking the path of his slow-moving body.

He clamps one hand over your knee, squeezing with an unexpected strength. His nails dig into your skin, hard enough that dots of blood erupt to the surface. You gasp at the sharp pain, then gasp again when you look up into his ruby red eyes.

“Death is the end,” he rasps with psychotic glee, blood and spittle dripping from his lips. “You’ve changed nothing. You are nothing. You’ve failed him. It’s too late. He’s gone.”

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #hp x gn reader #x male reader #hp x male reader #gay #theo nott x reader #x gender neutral reader #theo nott #male reader #gender neutral reader #angst

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hornyhornyhimbos · 6 months

Text

"Love Potion No. 9" ~ J. Byers

Summary: When you and Jonathan visit a witch on your hunt for something supernatural, you don't expect to leave with ever-growing arousal between your legs.

Pairing: Supernatural Hunter!Jonathan Byers x Supernatural Hunter!AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,106

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, cowgirl activities, car sex, love potion/aphrodisiac consumption, dry humping for a second, explicit language, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: does this read a little bit like a Supernatural fanfic? maybe. but i can't be blamed when Jonathan just feels so Winchester-coded.

Originally Written: 10/12/2023

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

Neither of you were quite sure how it happened, but your latest hunt had led you into the home of a witch. Low-hanging ferns and wind chimes and twinkly lights filled the area, the scent of frankincense heavy in the small space.

"Don't mind the smell," she'd said, "Figured I should cast some sort of protection over my home with that thing running loose."

After talking with the woman for a while, you and Jonathan had both silently come to a mutual conclusion: that this thing was a werewolf, and a rabid one at that, and it wouldn't stop until it had consumed as much blood as possible.

"Would you mind if we grabbed a bottle of water?" you asked, standing up from your spot on the lumpy sofa.

The witch shook her head. "Not at all, dear. Kitchen's just through that doorway. I think I'm gonna go have a quick smoke out on the porch." Your brows furrowed at her statement, but she quickly rebutted, "I'll be fine. I keep a gun by the door and I'll use my frankincense spray to help ward him off."

And with that, she was headed out the front door, leaving you and Jonathan to yourselves.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Jon asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

"Werewolf?" you asked, arms folding in front of your chest.

He gave you a quick nod, opening the fridge and pulling out two water bottles. "Yeah, and a rabid one at that."

"Which means there's probably another one close by that gave it to him," you commented. You quickly grabbed one of the bottles from him and took a long drag of the liquid. It had been hours since you'd stopped for food or drink or gas, and the water was like nectar from the gods to your desperate and deprived taste buds.

Jonathan chuckled at your behavior, but took a long drink from his own bottle. After gulping down the liquid, he concurred, "That's what I'm thinking too."

"So, how do we find them?"

He shrugged. "Wait. The wolves around here only come out at night so we wait until sundown, then hope to God that we're right about where they're hunting."

After a few minutes had passed, the lady had joined you back in the house, leading the two of you back into the living room. As the conversation carried on, you started to feel a strange, warm tingle in your belly. You attempted to shake off the feeling, but your body heat picked up and the feeling grew stronger.

"Jon," you whispered into his ear, "can we please go? I'm not feeling well."

Jonathan had a sort of flushed look to his face, and you assumed he must've been experiencing a feeling similar to yours. As you stood, he quickly side-stepped behind you, almost strategically placing you in front of him.

You both managed a rushed goodbye before heading out to the car, the warmth in your stomach quickly turning into a feeling you could identify— arousal.

The ride was silent, save for the tape playing quietly on the radio. Your legs clenched together involuntarily as a familiar wetness formed between them. Curiosity got the better of you as you looked over at Jon, who was white-knuckling the steering wheel like his life depended on it.

You came to a stop at the end of the nearly abandoned road, no other cars in sight as Jonathan approached the stop sign. He shot you a quick look, trying to act as casual as he could. "You alright?"

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat, nodding much more enthusiastically than you should have. "Yeah, I'm totally fine." A heavy silence took over the air for a couple seconds before you awkwardly asked, "What about you?"

He quickly nodded as well, avoiding eye contact with you. "Yeah, I'm good."

Another round of heavy silence came over the small space, Jonathan opting to break it by clearing his throat. He mumbled something to himself as he started to take off again, the car gradually gliding toward a speed bump.

You tried your best to hold it in, but it was almost compulsory the way a moan flew out of you when the speed bump caused your jeans to hit your core in just the right spot.

Jonathan hit the brakes right there in the middle of the road, an erratic look coming across his face. "You too?!" he asked in surprise.

You knew it would do you no good to lie, not after the way your mouth had just betrayed you. "You think she put something in that water?"

Sweat was cascading down both of your faces, each of your breathing already speeding up. "I don't know," he answered, his expression changing to one of shyness. "What are we gonna do?"

You thought for a moment, quickly going over your options. You could wait it out, but that might be miserable. You supposed you could pull over and one of you go into the woods, discreetly giving you both time to get yourselves off, but that would chance one of you getting taken by something in that clearly haunted forest. The third option was one you truly hated to think, but you supposed it might be your best bet.

"Quick, get me that dropper out of the trunk. It's in the case with my dagger."

He pulled off to the side of the road, giving you a questioning look. "Why-"

You all but pushed him out of the car, urging him to not ask questions. While he grabbed the dropper, you unscrewed the lid to both bottles of water. When he got back, you dropped a tiny dab of the liquid in the tube down into the bottles of water. You watched as the water turned a bright sapphire blue, knowing all too well what it meant.

"Fuck," you exclaimed exasperatedly, your hand meeting your temple.

Jonathan met you with a confused look, brows furrowed tight together. "What? What does that mean?"

"That bitch gave us a serum of desire."

"A what?"

You sighed, though you couldn't ignore the growing feeling of arousal as you looked into his eyes. "It's a potion to make us realize our deepest desires."

He went from confused to downright dumbfounded. "So, our deepest desire is… each other?" You nodded in reply. "Well, what do we do?"

"We have no choice but to confront our deepest desire. It's the only way it'll wear off."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, shock and lust wafting through the air as heavily as the frankincense had earlier. You tried to think of any other way to make the potion wear off, but deep down, you knew there was only one way to get rid of this feeling.

"So…" he said, the word lingering.

"So…" you repeated.

Jonathan was the first to make a move, which surprised you, given his hatred of confrontation. "Can I… kiss you? I-In the backseat?"

He didn't have to ask twice. You were practically shoving him into the tiny backseat, climbing on top of him in record speed. The idea of doing this with him had you embarrassed, given your practically life-long crush on the man, but at the current moment, the serum was working hard to dilute all thoughts of rationality.

Your lips connected, heavy breaths flowing out of your mouth and into his as his hands landed on your waist. He pulled you down the expanse of his thigh, guiding your center along his denim-clad leg. Your hips were grinding all on their own, a moan slipping from your kiss-swollen lips as your jeans brushed your clit just right.

"Do you wanna," he started to say, being cut off by a needy kiss, "get off like this? Because this," another kiss, "is perfectly fine to me."

You shook your head, your tongue slipping between his parted lips as you continued humping his leg, your pleasure already nearing its peak. "Need more, please."

Your fingers slipped into his hair, tugging at the light brown strands and eliciting an absolutely beautiful noise from the man underneath you. You wanted to bottle that noise up and play it on repeat for hours, music to your ears.

He made quick work of his jeans, sliding them down just enough to release his cock. You moaned at the sight, torn between taking it in your mouth or putting it exactly where you needed it. The latter won as you made quick work of your own pants, Jonathan letting out another one of those gorgeous sounds at the sight of your wetness.

Without any resistance on your part, he was lowering you down his length, his head falling back against the car door. "Oh, holy fuck," he sighed, his eyes going glassy. Your hands moved to his bangs, moving the sweat-sticky hair away from his eyes to give you both an unobstructed view of each other.

You were the first to move, nearly cumming right then as the head of his cock brushed against that wonderful spot inside of you. Labored breaths filled the air as the two of you began to create the perfect rhythm between your bodies, his balls slapping against you every time you slid back down his length.

Your lips reconnected as you rocked up and down on him, tongues roaming freely inside one another's mouth. The car was undeniably rocking, anyone who drove past would know exactly what you were doing, but the slight movement had him bucking up into you even harder, and secretly you were thankful you'd decided to do this here.

Your hand roamed down to one of his, bringing his calloused fingers to your clit. "Touch me, right there, please," you all but begged, guiding his fingertips in the exact rhythm you craved them.

The pad of his thumb was rough, but only brought your orgasm closer. His opposite hand moved to grab the supple skin of your hip, guiding you along his cock and bringing him closer to the edge as well.

Your own hands gripped his shoulders for dear life as your climax washed over you, your cunt sucking him deeper inside you as your legs began to shake. "Shit, Jonathan," you whined, your hips speeding in hopes of bringing him to his own release.

"Fuck, where do you need it?" he groaned, his dick throbbing inside of you.

"What?" you breathed heavily, still working yourself through possibly the best orgasm you'd ever felt.

"Can I cum inside you?" he asked, somewhere between begging and demanding.

All words left your body as his finger continued to work at your swollen clit, so you simply opted for a nod of the head.

As if on cue, he was filling you up with every last drop of his seed, both of your bodies falling limp against each other. "Oh, my God," he sighed, his breath hot as it fanned around your ear.

The serum was already wearing off your body, realizing what you'd done. You wanted to enjoy this moment, to just be with him, but you couldn't deny the logical thoughts that had started to flood back into your mind. "Oh, my God," you repeated, nearly a whisper as you lay on his chest.

"We really just did that, didn't we?" he asked, a hand moving up to brush softly over your hair.

You let out a soft, amused huff as your eyes finally met his again. You swore you saw his eyes sparkling as he looked at you, an expression of adoration coming over his features. "I guess we did," you laughed lightly.

"Are you mad about it?" Jon asked, his tone seeming genuine.

This time, your brows furrowed. "Why would I be mad?"

He chuckled, leaning to kiss your cheek. "Just checking to see if you'll kill me the next time I ask to kiss you in the backseat of my car."

Another amused giggle fell from your lips. "I wouldn't dare. You're too valuable to kill, no matter if we enjoyed ourselves back here or not."

A playful pout flashed across his face. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy yourself? Because it seemed to me," he paused, moving to suck a harsh kiss on your collarbone, eliciting a gasp from you, "like you were really, really enjoying yourself."

"How long until sundown?" you asked, all breath escaping your lungs for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Jonathan spared a quick glance at his watch. "Probably another half hour, maybe forty-five minutes if we're lucky."

"Better make it count, then."

-> taglist: @ducky-died-inside @aftermidnightwriting @esoltis280

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chas3supremacist · 8 months

Text

father figure.

Pairing/s: James Wilson x Platonic!Doctor!Reader

Summary: Wilson's favourite oncologist struggles with POTS.

Request: Anonymous asked

hi omg i love that you're writing platonic house fanfic! if you're taking requests can i rq like platonic greg house and/or james wilson with a reader who has a chronic illness/pain

Word Count: 612 Words

CW: none I think! Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Okay. Here goes nothing - also here goes my first house pic! I don't love or hate this, my biggest apologies to the anon who requested this pic - A lot went down from the time I started writing this until now. Please let me know what you think - Likes, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated!

"Y/N"

You hummed and then groaned in discomfort as you opened your eyes, the harsh white light from the ceiling of the doctor's lounge burning your eyes. You recognized the concern written on the blurry face hovering above you - Wilson, the head of the department you worked in. You sighed, a bit embarrassed that your boss had found you passed out because you had been standing up for too long.

"I'm up," You assured him, trying to wave him and his concern off. Fainting was nothing new for you, especially if you'd gone too long without resting - you were diagnosed with POTS when you were 15 and had tried everything that your doctors had suggested to try and treat it, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that this was going to be something you would need to live with since your diagnosis had been 10 years prior.

"Are you okay?" Wilson helped you up onto your feet, making sure not to rush you, just in case you fainted again. If you were being honest, Wilson was kind of the closest thing you had to a dad, considering your family put you up for adoption when you were six - citing that you were too much for them to look after anymore. You ended up in the foster care system until you turned 18 and got yourself into a good medical school, powering your way through school despite the struggles that came with your illness.

"Yes, dad, I'm fine," You joked with him, shooting Wilson a tired, weak smile. He chuckled and shook his head at you, you were certainly...something. But you were one of the best oncologists he'd met, specialising in pediatric oncology, your gentle nature made you extremely likeable among your colleagues. "Don't you have better things to be doing? I'm fine now Wilson," You assured him.

"I know, I'm just making sure. I don't want you fainting again, here, have some water," He handed you a bottle of water, since you were told you had to keep your fluids up and try and avoid sugary foods or drinks all you really drank was water. You took the bottle from him and glared at him jokingly - Wilson knew that you could be defensive about him "looking after you" sometimes, but he guessed that was part of the package of growing up without a real family, you never had one set person care about, if even at all.

But no matter how defensive you were - Wilson would never judge you for it. You had your reasons for it; but you would never admit to him, or even yourself that part of you found comfort in your head of department looking out for you in the same manner you wished a father had when you were growing up. You knew that he cared about you - Maybe even more so than some of the other doctors on your ward, you weren't sure why, you just know that he did.

#Robert Sean leonard #James wilson x platonic!Reader #housemd fanfic #hatecrimes md #james wilson x you #platonic fanfic #house fanfiction #dr wilson #James wilson x reader

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jackiequick · 6 months

Text

The truth hurts, doesn’t it? | Agents Of SHIELD Fanfic

Summary: Everything good must have been an interesting lie underneath it all, waiting to be uncovered, but the question is how will you take it?

Pairing: Grant Ward x OC, Grant Ward & Amelia Parker (WardParker)

Setting: Captain America The Winter Solider and Agents Of SHIELD season 1

Spoilers for Agents Of SHIELD 1x17–1x20

Warning: Blood, mentions of anxiety, heartbreak, a bit of manipulation, betrayal

Characters mentioned: Nikolai, Marlene, Melissa, Coulson, Fury, May, Skye, Fitzsimmons, Tripp and The Young Avengers

——

It felt like madness. The air was thick and colder than they would’ve liked. The team was tired, confused and more or less worried. Trying to figure out what to do next and how to stick together while doing so. There were some agents coming in and out of the bunker, they were even set underneath an lie detector and all passed with flying colors.

The cell service was better than expect, they had food, water, and shelter that’s what matters.

It was a late afternoon when it happened.

Practically night.

Everyone was doing their own thing. Some were trying to rest like Fitz and Jemma, some were on computers doing research such as Skye, and others were training themselves for the bigger fight near the locker area.

Amelia felt on edge, these last few weeks it was like a nervous twitch creeping up on her waiting to snap. She wasn’t thinking straight about anything, as far as they knew Fury is dead. Hell, she wasn’t sure if Nikolai, Marlene, or Melissa were fully aware of the situation in place, even though she sent an critical message to them.

She knew that none of the young avengers or adults one had any clue about what exactly was happening, due to the truth of Coulson’s death was kept from most of them. But HYDRA creeping around wasn’t something truly hidden per say…

Sometimes she felt like it was this shivering headache that reached from the back of her neck toward the front of her forehead. This whole situation bothered her to the inch of her bones, this chilling adventure she didn’t remember signing up for in the first place.

Maybe she needed a nap? Watch a video to relax her mind? Hell, splash some water crossed her face to try and clear her head?

Walking past the supply room, she left oddly enough weary like she was missing something. It was just her anxiety seeping itself, as she thought. An odd feeling recklessly filled the rest of the area, as she scurried into one of the restrooms.

Closing the door behind her, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her joints hurt, twisting themselves into her shoulders as she rested her arms against the bathroom sink. Her vision went blurry for a moment, her back arched froward as she unzipped her jacket to breathe and roll up her sleeves.

She turned on the knobs as she splashed some cold water on her face, wiping her eyes browns and rubbed her eyelids facing the mirror for a quick second. She mumbled a few things to herself, wishing she was back on the bus with her friends like nothing happened, but she knew it couldn’t do a blasted thing about it. She grabbed an towel to dry her face, as she wiped her face out of the corner of her eye she noticed something that set her off.

An automatic sliding painting that was supposed to set to afternoon, was lowing a hushed flickering light. She clenched the towel against her fist stepping forward to notice an dagger, a small knife, stabbed into the edge of the painting. It was waiting to bent over and break, there was a hatch breathe in Amelia’s throat as she removed it from the placing.

The painting slid upwards to display a horrific glint of flickering lights as the slashing words ran across the screen. The sunset frame brushed against the wording in deep gashes.

Amelia blinked, gasping a shaky breath that catches in her throat. She shakes her head at the wording in disbelief, as if she couldn’t do anything but freeze. Her fingernails were pressed so hard against her palm, she would’ve drawn blood.

“N-no..” She mumbled underneath her breath, “..no, no..no!”

Suddenly her voice became so small, her eyes waters and her mouth went dry. The denial sinks in so fast, she stumbled back hesitant to run her fingers across the painting.

“It’s not him..” She muttered softly accidentally dropping the towel on the floor, unable to breathe once again and laced in shock.

Ward Is Hydra.

The words ran by her eyesight in pure shock. She thought it was a trick, some sort of joke being made to use her own wits against the team. Amelia heard people saying that Coulson or May might be Hydra, that even one of their agents might play a game to see who’s loyal or not.

Someone knew about this before her, but they couldn’t. They all passes every single test with—

An loud noise startled Amelia, hands of her hips as she ran her hands above her waistline stumbling out of the room shaking her head taking another glance at the sign. She practically slid down the hallway, tripped over her steps stopped inside one of the supply closets to find Jemma racing out of the room at the same time as she entered.

She narrowed her vision in confusion, sending a odd look to her teammates. They were field agents but also scientists and technicians who weren’t used to this whole thing, so it was understandable if they was uneasy with whatever they saw. But it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong!

The moment she wiped her head inside the room, the sight would’ve had her screaming if it weren’t for her biting her buttons lip and gripping the doorknob. There was a blush of heated dripping liquid slowly hitting the floor from above, as her gaze followed it towards the red drops, her eyes widened.

Blood from a fellow agent, laying dead against the ceiling and high shelves. Their eyes were closed, killed in the late hours of the afternoon in a dark supply closet. Amelia was left in utter tears, silence and shockingly loud noise ringing in her heads. She felt hurt and heavy, wonder where the hell is the rest of the team.

Amelia felt like she might throw up, fumbling with her pocket trying to reach her phone as her other hand cover her mouth. She tried reaching Nikolai and no response, Marlene and no response and even Melissa had no single response. There was a mole in the bunker.

Skye was still upstairs doing research, as Amelia raced upstairs to face her as she whisper yelled, “Skye! What do you know?”

She looked up with a gasping glare, “I’m guessing you know?”

“Yes! And it’s not him..it can’t be him!”

“You don’t know that..Ward has lied to us, Amelia..he’s Hydra.”

“He lied to the team! But I have known that man for 4 years, Skye! 4 years!”

“You think I like this?! I fell for the man, I kissed him..I still think I love him..”

“Oh god..okay, maybe this is just a game right? Ward treats us different, something’s not right..”

“…you still feel like you love him, don’t you?”

“Well the truth hurts, doesn’t it Skye? We just gotta play along.”

“I’m already doing that, I feel hurt Amelia. But I’m gonna follow Ward, see what’s going on in his head and if something happens.”

“Okay, yeah..okay. I’ll try to see who I can contact and prepare for whatever Ward thinks he might pull..”

There was an unspoken sense of urgency in their eyes. Grant Ward is Hydra but that concern and confusion hurt both of their feelings.

Mainly Amelia’s heart.

It felt like the five stages of grief, sadness and anxiety was rushing across her veins. She felt alone, betrayed and abandoned, even though she wasn’t, it felt that way.

———

The next 48 hours was a world wind..

So many things happened, from unexpected agents trying ambushing the bunker and buildings to the news about some of their fellow agents dying protecting the property of SHIELD. No one knew who was right or wronged here, who’s good and who’s bad. Fitz and Simmons were off doing their own thing for Coulson, May have gone with a couple of glares, Tripp rushed off to get extra stuff, and John Garrets got into a fight with Coulson.

Hell, Skye was sharing a few short moments with Ward himself.

Honestly Amelia felt bad for Skye, she knew she felt deeply for Ward since their chemistry climbed upon the time they all spend together on the plane. She also knew Grant felt some very similar feelings for her, as he was teased about it from the team.

She was still trying to contact her friends but nothing came up, tears rising to be released. She felt nauseous, a little numb and bruised. As if she was in the middle of a hot flash.

Currently, she sat nearby couch of a decently small room with her head in her hands, tiredly sighing. The door gently opened as in came the man of the hour, noticing her downing look as he looked at the girl in concern.

He sat down beside her, leaning against one of the chairs and asked, “Sweetheart..are you okay?”

“Hm?” She replied, peeking in between her hands to look at him.

“What happened?”

“You really asking me that?”

He scoffed, “Yeah, I know what’s happening. I wish it wasn’t like this but we can’t do anything about it.”

“It feels like I’m being caught in a horror movie.” She added.

“What? Like Scream? Who’s the killer?”

“One of our agents..we don’t know who’s on our side or not.”

“More like multiple agents, you don’t know who is really involved in SHIELD or HYDRA. You probably think I can’t be trusted, Ames.”

“Ward, honey, I trust you. I do. But the question is, will you actually be telling me the truth or not..”

“I alway try to tell you the truth, even if it hurts.”

At that moment, she removed her hands from her face and turned to face him, “Oh really?”

He straightened his shoulders seeing the look on her face as he sighed, “Amelia, are you seriously asking me that?”

“Grant, you lied to me before about missions to keep me and the team safe. You could be lying to me right now.”

“And you lied to me more than once to keep me in the loop. I’m being honest here. Do you trust me?”

“Do you trust enough to tell me the truth?”

~~~

And there it was again. The line that has been repeatedly said by one another the moment they trained, to the times the group was on the road for missions. Even in moments of daring action, where it might result in something serious or stupid.

The glances, the nods, the smiles or smirks, the pointing and the questions..

Do you trust me?

It hurts how much those words carried so much, such as a heavyweight question to them.

~~~

They both sat there in silence. The silence was so loud, it was painful to even notice the smell of their perfume and cologne that filled the room. Ward could see the oddly wave of emotions that washed over her face, it honestly felt like he was ripping her heart out of her chest.

He hated seeing her upset, it’s why Grant practically took a beating from his boss, Garret, when the man told him how soft he gets around the people he cared for. And he won’t admit it but it’s true. Deep down he cared about Amelia, Daisy, Fitz and Jemma. He respected Coulson and May. Especially with how much time he spent with the team was placed into.

“Do you trust us? Did you even love me?” Said a small broken voice that belonged to Amelia, looking down at her hands, her fingers were laced with cuts and small gashes.

“Oh my god, Ames..” He replied, standing up as he went to sit down next to her grabbing her hand gently, “..of course, I trust you. You know I love you, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you if it meant you would feel like this.”

“I’ve known you for 4 years Grant. 4 years, I have stood by your side fighting on the ground and the skies to make sure everyone was safe, to come home safe and sound. As a team and now..”

“4 years and I don’t regret anything, none of our time together. I can explain whatever it is that is crossing your mind.”

She knows. He knows.

Amelia wiped her head over to see him and asked, “Can you?! Can you look me in the eye and tell me you are on the same team?”

“You weren’t meant to get hurt! You and I were always on the same team, don’t you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you!” Grant replied yelling, hesitant to let her hand go.

“I swear, you weren’t even on the same team to beginning with! You were loyal to HYDRA.”

“No. I wasn’t ever loyal to HYDRA, if anything I would say I’m loyal to Garret.”

“You killed people.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I..”

“The last few days you have shot down unexpected agents, not knowing if they were on your side or not. You and I are just trying to protect ourselves here! That’s all what we’re trying to do.”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Of course I was. Garret wanted you dead! I couldn’t let that happen! I’m trying to protect you here, I was just trying to protect all of us.”

“By keeping this secret from me? I know you are never one to talk about how you feel, but this..this should’ve been something you should’ve told me..”

“And have you act like this towards me? I told you years ago, I’m not a good man, Ames..and yet you stood by me. You and Skye decided to stay beside me no matter how bad it got.”

“And I said ‘yes you are.’ But right now, i just can’t imagine what I should and shouldn’t believe here. Was I pawned in your little lie, huh? Was I?”

At some point both of them were standing up, pacing the room grunting and groaning in annoyance. The room felt like it was heating up due to the argument that forming between them.

Tears were forever forming in her eyesight, running her fingers across her hair as her eyebrows furrowed as her glares softened. She was hurt, she more than hurt and her emotions were breaking in front of her. Tears that being hold back for more than 48 hours finally were getting to see the light of day.

He sighed deeply, wishing he didn’t see those tears, knowing that he will have to deal with Skye later on but this, he looked away from. His hands rested on his hips shaking his head, his anger was rising and his annoyance was taking form. This wasn’t the plan, she wasn’t supposed to get hurt. It wasn’t supposed to be personal for any of them.

“No. You weren’t ever part of the plan nor a pawn, Ames. Believe me, I didn’t expect you to come into my life and change things up!” Grant admitted closing his eyes shut, “It’s over. It’s done, i can’t do anything about it. For once in my life I wanted something that was for me, not Garret giving me orders here! And you came in, yes I lied to you but it wasn’t personal..I swear it wasn’t!”

“Oh, but i think it was! Please, Grant I’m begging you..you’re living a double life here! Getting so close, yet so far to people. I didn’t expect for you to come into my life but you did!” She admitted, “..you were..you lied to me. You lied to me. Don’t hurt Skye, more you than probably are already.”

“I won’t regret getting here and I won’t think about hurting Skye. But Ames, someday you will understand what i have gone through to keep you safe because I love you..”

“So why does it hurt so bad? What are you gonna do next? Lock me up in here? Because your definition of keeping me safe from it all sounds like a hell lot of lies..why?”

“Everything i ever felt for you was real, don’t you get it?! But I won’t betray Garret..”

“..because me and the team woke up a weakness inside of you. I..i don’t know what to think, or believe right now, alright?! I..i..”

Amelia felt weak, not like an agent of shield or anything. Just hurt, broken, betrayed as she crumbled underneath her feet about to walk away.

That was when Ward gently swiftly her back in effort to calm her down as she tried fighting back.

She tried pulling away, hitting him in the chest as hard as she could, causing him to stumble back regaining his stance. Grant just held her in his arms, grabbing her wrist as she repeatedly kept hitting his chest.

“Stop! Stop it, Ames!” Ward said, practically growled at her, “You’re embarrassing yourself here. I won’t kill you or our team, i promise!”

“You promise?” She said, mumbling and stopped hitting his chest, resting her forehead against his chest instead.

“I promise. You can tell them or shout it from the rooftops, but HYDRA is already here.”

“I failed..you failed me, Grant. HYDRA is here..oh god, there’s nothing else to say.”

“I know, baby. I know..”

She just cried into his arms, banging her fist softly again his best. He wrapped kept his embrace tightly, closing his eyes and kissed her forehead before walking away.

“W-where you going?” She asked.

“It’s for your own good, Ames.” He replied.

Without a second later, Grant speeded away out the door, locking the door behind him as you can hear Amelia screams and shouted trying to unlock it. He squeezed his eyes shut and made his out of the hallway.

Amelia grunted realized what he was about to do and scrambled to search for her phone, quickly she texted Skye a message.

‘He’s coming to you.’ She messaged

She responded, ‘On it. You okay?’

‘Will be..’

‘Okay.’

———

Amelia Parker was on the verge of tears once again, anger filling up her mind and conflicted onto what was happening next.

Her next move was informing Coulson, Hill and whoever else was online about what she knows from her research. At the same time, she tried finding a way out, possibly crawling across the vent.

“T-this is agent..Amelia Parker..we found one of the moles, Hydra is dead set of seeking into whatever corner they can. Garret is one of leaders, i don’t know who’s his boss but we need extra weapons, load up the power grids at every SHIELD Facility we can. You should know that Project Insight is part of it. Keep a-any updates coming from any scanners and detectors available. And most importantly, watch your six, you..you don’t know who is your friend or foe..” She said into her voicemail, messaging anyone on her contact list.

She knew that her voice message may have come out choppy or a bit rushed per say due to the sound of her voice, but it was all she can mange at the moment. It sounds like she was exhausted and most likely finished crying before starting that message.

She was practically locked in a bunker in what feels like the middle of nowhere, with not the best service but it manageable if you knew how to handle some technical problems. She just found out that the organization, she has been working for has a lot of issues and the people she thought she knew had more secrets than she ever expected…

Of course she was a mess!

Her only hopes were that she can get out here soon, and her message was sent out to her friends and fellow actual agents. Oh heavens, did she hope her friends and loved ones were safe..

——

Thank you for reading this! Tell me what you think about it

Please like, share, comment and reblog for more stuff like this

Tags: @gcthvile @msrochelleromanofffelton @gaminggirlsstuff @mandylove1000 @mallowbee4 @sherloquestea @whitewiccan @starkleila @thisgirlisonfayeeer @topgun-imagines @rooster-84 @yetanotherwells @blueboirick and etc

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sasdavvero · 5 months

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sasdavvero Blue Lock Masterlist

I checked the links and they should work, don't hesitate to contact me in case they don't!

Stories not in a series

Can I?: flashfic, Bachisagi, fluff, first kiss [eng-tumblr post/ita-efp]

How to win someone over in one afternoon: a Guide by Isagi Yoichi: Bachisagi, fluff, slice of life, dates, first kiss [tumblr post/eng/ita-ao3/ita-efp/ita-wattpad]

Wanting, Needing, Having: Completed (17/17) Bachisagi, Underage, Angst & Fluff & Smut [tumblr post/eng]

Shattered Glass Means It's Already Broken (It Doesn't Mean It Can't Be Fixed): Bachisagi, Soulmates AU, angst and fluff [tumblr post/eng/ita-efp/ita-wattpad]

Cheers: flashfic, Bachisagi, first kiss [tumblr post]

The Languages of Soccer: Gen, Crack, Languages mix [tumblr post/eng]

Control: Bachisagi implied, EDNOS, Food Issues [eng]

How To Kiss Someone: The Umpteenth Guide By Isagi Yoichi: Barosagi, Crack, Kissing [eng]

first meeting: Gen, EDNOS, Psych Ward, Isagi & OC (Mai) [eng]

My Liege: Gen, Crack, They/Them for Barou [tumblr post/eng]

Not Enough Hands: Isagi Harem (Implied), Crack, Underage Drinking [tumblr post/eng]

Right Where We Left: isagi/hiori/nanase, fluff, set before the BM-PXG match [tumblr post/eng]

you make me feel alive (every time I breathe): Kaisagi Hanahaki AU, implied IsagiHarem and Kaisess, angst, unrequited love [tumblr post/eng]

Cheering: isagi/hiori/nanase, maybe crack, fluff [tumblr post/eng]

Blue Lock Ship Week 2023

Trying: Day 1 - Bachisagi, Confession, happy ending [tumblr post/eng]

Impulse: Day 2 - Bachisagi, First Kiss, Fluff [tumblr post/eng]

How Not To Date: Another Guide By Isagi Yoichi: Day 4 - Bachisagi, fake dating [eng]

How To Help A Bee (And Get A Vampire In Return): Day 6 - Bachisagi Servamp AU [eng]

Ghost Bachira stories

Out of a Movie: Bachisagi, Ghost!AU, bittersweet ending, friendship [tumblr post/eng]

Mama's Boy: Meguru & Yuu, Suicide TW, pre-Out of a Movie [tumblr post/eng]

you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes): Ongoing (11/?) Bachisagi, Angst and Crack and Fluff [tumblr post/eng]

Talk it Out: alternative take on ch10 of ^^ [eng]

Blue Lock/Servamp Crossover

for now, all the stories are Isagi Yoichi/Shirota Mahiru

Thank You: Pre-Last Time/A Familiar Voice, getting together, Implied psych ward, fluff [eng]

Last Time: set in ep1 of Blue Lock, idiots in love, fluff [eng]

A Familiar Voice: set in ch96 of Servamp, hurt/comfort [eng]

Kaisagi Smutty Fanfics

Downfall: PWP, First Time, Bottom!Isagi, Top!Kaiser [eng]

Keep Your Cool: PWP, Top!Isagi, Bottom!Kaiser [eng]

Quiet: PWP, Top!Kaiser, Bottom!Isagi, bathroom sex, mild praise and degradation kink [eng]

Duality: PWP, Top!Isagi, Bottom!Kaiser, chiller than the others [eng]

Rush: PWP, Top!Kaiser, Bottom!Isagi, Riding [eng]

Ruin: PWP, Top!Kaiser, Bottom!Isagi, Porn with Feelings (kinda), Unresolved Tension (also kinda) [eng]

Zero, Two, Sette, Hachi

series about the versions, two are Isagicest

I would want myself: Isagi/Fem Isagi, Slice of Life, Light Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut [tumblr post/eng]

do you think we'll be in love forever?: after ^^, Genderbent Universe, light angst, conversations [tumblr post/eng]

cos'hai detto di me? (ma non sono così): Sette & Hachi, introspection, tw sh, underage drinking/smoking, absent parents [eng]

a volte muoio su un letto che non è il mio: after ^^, bachisagi smut feat Sette, slight introspection [eng]

the world is burning (I got worms in my brain): Isagicest (M/M) (Zero/Hachi), tw for self-harm, suicidal thoughts/murder, Eventual Smut [tumblr post/eng]

Awful: after ^^, Hachi's universe, underage smoking/drinking, self-harm, Flashbacks [eng]

dimmi che l'amore esiste anche per me: Seika and Sette bonding time, mention of child neglect and self harm, fem!bachisagi [eng]

#blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #michael kaiser #bachisagi #isabachi #barosagi #kaisagi #blue lock fanfiction #fanfiction #tag per masterlist #tay scrive #team kindness

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drownedinlavender · 10 months

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Helloooo, so I'm writing a long kyman fic. It's gonna be a slow burn multi-chapter one. I got like a good 1/3 of it down with like a skeleton of events mapped out. Since I haven't been active in any fandom or like written fanfic since I was a teen, I wanted to post an excerpt to kinda test the waters a bit haha I'm kinda shy about sharing stuff but was greatly inspired by a lot of people's work.

Anyway, the premise is Cartman impulsively taking the fall on something and being admitted to inpatient cause of it. This excerpt is when he facetimes the gang to tell them about it. Stan and Kenny are at school during lunch, Kyle's at the hospital (has to do with what Cartman took the blame for), and Eric's at home about to leave.

I'd greatly appreciate any criticism or input! Thank u for ur time 💜💖 ^^)/

"Dude, a psych ward? That sounds pretty serious," Stan looks mildly concerned.

"It is serious, Stan. That's why Kyle's gonna owe me big time when I get back," Eric smuggly declares, "Like sucking my balls big big time."

Kenny sneakers at the brunette still obsessing over a bet they made years ago when they were just kids.

"Man, you gotta lay off the balls thing, Cartman. That's hella gay," Stan drily informs while munching on a fry.

"Hey! It's not gay! It's about humiliation and having power over an individual," Eric offendedly denies, choosing to die on that hill.

Kyle, who has been absolutely seething in the background, finally bursts, "Fuck you, Cartman! I didn't ask you to cover for me, you did that all on your own!"

Eric scoffs, "Okay, fine, Kahl, would you prefer me going to PC principal and telling him I take it all back. That he should take you off the team like he wanted? Is that what you want, Kahl?"

Kyle tenses his jaw muscles as he grinds his teeth. Of course that's not what he wants but is Cartman holding one over his head any better? His eyes flicker to the side as he contemplates for a brief moment. Stan continues eating, staring at his screen waiting for his best friend to speak as if he's watching an enthralling reality tv show. Once Kenny's giggling fit finally subsides, he lays his head on one outstretched arm and sneaks a French fry from whoever's lunch tray is right across from him.

"Fine," Kyle bitterly concedes with a sigh, "but I'm not helping you do anything illegal like murder or whatever. And I'm definitely not sucking your balls," he points at Cartman through the screen.

"Oh…" a small voice utters in surprise across the room from Kyle. The redhead looks up at a shocked nurse half way through the door. "I-I'll come back in a second to check your vitals," she embarrassedly scurries out of the room.

Kyle's mortified face soon matches his hair. "God, damn it, Cartman!"

Kenny practically dies of laughter, not even bothering to hold his phone up right anymore.

"Dude," Stan snorts before cracking up as well.

Kyle hides his face with one hand, trying with every fiber of his being to maintain any ounce of composure he can muster before combusting from rage.

Eric's amused smile warps into a shit eating grin, he absolutely could not be any more delighted by the current turn of events. He obnoxiously clears his throat before continuing, "Very well, I'll leave a legally binding contract in your room before departing, Kahl. Now Kenny," he seamlessly changes the topic.

Kenny straightens himself out the best he can. "Uh-huh?" He responds through tears.

"Wait a second, fatass, do NOT break into my room!" Kyle protests.

Eric purposely ignores his rival, knowing it'll anger him further. "Kenny, my mom says you can use your spare key to clear out my fridge whenever. She's gonna stay up in Denver with some cousin until I'm out. We don't want the food rotting up and stinking up the place so do it sooner rather than later, got it?"

"Seriously, dude?!" Kenny immediately straightens himself out in elated surprise. Woohoo!" He cheers. He knows their fridge is always packed so he and his little sister are definitely set for bit.

"Knock yourself out, dude, just don't let anything rot in there. Seriously, I'll kick your ass if I come back and my house reeks like spoiled ass."

"You got it, bro," Kenny assures with a thumbs up.

"Don't ignore me, asshole!" Kyle's demands only serve to further Cartman's amusement.

"Welp, gotta go pack up some essentials. Don't know how long I'll have to be admitted … but it's all worth it for my dear friend Kahl's sake," Eric fakes sincerity. With a hand over his heart, he winks at Kyle.

"Oh, Fuck off," Kyle rolls his eyes.

"Well, good luck, dude. Don't blow up the place trying to escape," Stan waves goodbye from his screen.

"Guys, wanna say bye to Cartman? He's gonna go do some time at a loony bin," Kenny asks, reversing his camera to show the rest of their lunch table.

"We heard. You guys are super loud," Craig complains before biting his burger.

"Hey! Don't call it a loony bin, asswipe! That's totally insensitive to people with mental health issues. Not cool dude," Cartman condescendingly lectures, doing what he does best, playing the victim.

"Cartman's getting admitted? Dude, that's crazy!" Tweek comments.

"Wait, who's getting what now?" Clyde looks up from his phone, unaware of the conversation going on around him.

"Cartman, dude, he got in trouble again so PC principal's sending him to a psych ward," Tweek rapidly explains.

"Oh," Clyde responds in his usual nasally tone.

"All in order to save Kyle from getting kicked off the team," Cartman adds.

"Don't act like you did it from the kindness of your heart, fatass!" Kyle quickly corrects.

"First it's Cartman, then they'll be coming for the rest of us!" The jittery blond panics.

Craig pats his boyfriend's shoulder. "No they won't, honey, we don't cause the town to blow up every other month like they do."

"Hey!" Kyle indignantly exclaims.

"We haven't been directly responsible for the town's destruction for like," Stan counts the time in his head, "at least a year now!" He defends himself and his friends, receiving a middle finger from an unimpressed Craig.

"L-l-later, Eric, don't dr-dro-dr-dro-drop the soap," Jimmy jokes before offering up his signature smile.

"Jim, that's for jail," Tolkien corrects.

"Aw, we'll miss you, Eric! Don't take too long in the psych ward!" Butters gleefully shouts.

Kyle rolls his eyes, feeling himself getting more and more irritated by the situation at hand. "Oh, for Pete's sake, it's not like he's dying, you guys." The longer these farewells are dragging on, the more he can feel a twinge of guilt spreading throughout his subconscious and twisting up his guts.

"Poopsikins, mommy can't find Mr. Kitty's carrier, do you remember where we left it?" Liane can be heard calling from the background.

"Just a second, meeem!" Eric hollers off camera before getting back in frame and sticking out his tongue with a peace sign, "Later, losers ~ " he sings-songs and hangs up.

"You know …. For someone being sent off to an insane asylum, he seems really unbothered by it," Tolkien points out.

Kyle's eyes flicker down for just a second before choosing to quickly dismiss further analyzing Cartman's reaction to being sent away. "Well, yeah, it's Cartman. Do you really expect him to react normally about anything?"

"That's true," Tolkien immediately agrees, chalking it up to Cartman just being Cartman.

For a brief moment, Kyle remembers the time he was admitted when the town wouldn't believe him about Mr. Hankey but before he can even decide on entertaining that thought, Stan speaks.

"Wow … so he's really leaving, huh?" Stan says more than asks, looking a bit absent minded.

"I guess so," Kenny pensively looks down at the lunch table, head resting on crossed arms. He turns to Stan and forlornly admits, "dude … I'm actually feeling kinda bummed out."

Kyle bites the inside of his cheek. The reality of their current predicament further sinking in.

"Aw, Ken," Stan frowns and pats Kenny's shoulder.

"It's okay, Ken," Butters comforts, patting Kenny's back, "he said so himself, he probably won't be there for long."

"Isn't this a good thing though? Things are going to be a lot more peaceful while he's gone," Tolkien suggests.

"If Cartman gets admitted for the rest of the school year, I'll be sooooo happy," Craig chants in a monotone.

A sniffle directs everyone's focus towards Clyde.

"Clyde, you okay, buddy?" Craig puts down his lunch to fully focus on his friend's concerns.

"We *sniff* were starting to *sniff* get along more *sniff* this year," he powers through a closing throat.

Kyle bites his cheek even harder. Cartman was certainly a lot tamer as of late. Things were finally getting comfortable between the two of them, too.

"He was being a lot c-coo-c-coo-cooler this y-year," Jimmy admits.

The nurse knocks before entering Kyle's room this time. "I'm going to take your vitals again, okay?" She smiles.

"Yeah, sure," Kyle replies before addressing his friends, "I gotta go guys. Stan, can you come pick up my keys and move my car before my parents get back? I have a minor concussion so I'm under observation for a bit."

"Yeah, dude, totally," Stan confirms.

"Later," Kenny mumbles, waving with one hand, his face fully immersed in his crossed arms.

"Alright, thanks, see you guys later," Kyle says his goodbyes, queuing the nurse to begin taking his blood pressure.

Kyle barely moves, too busy contemplating Eric's departure. First, Stan moves and now Cartman's going to be gone for God knows how long? He bitterly sighs.

#kyman #kyman fanfic #kyman fanfiction #eric x kyle #eric cartman x kyle broflovski #cartyle #south park kyman #drownedinthekiddiepool

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she-wolf09231982 · 24 days

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Chapter 1-Rosaria Marie Leone

Summary: Chicago native, Rosaria Leone (leh-OHN), was stationed in Aldourne, England awaiting further instructions to her next duty location. She finally received orders to Bastogne after the 326th Medical team was captured on their way to the town by German soldiers.

The church in the town was converted into an aid station to lodge wounded soldiers that came in from the front lines, but with medical supplies running low and shortage of medical personnel, the Americans were in desperate need of more medics and nurses to keep up with the workload. To her surprise, she finds a few silver linings by befriending a local nurse, Renée Lemaire, and Easy Company’s medic, Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe.

A/N: OC Introduction/Rosaria Marie Leone (leh-OHN), EugeneRoeX!FemMedic, WW2, Character introduction, Post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Military Terminology, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Smoking, Mentions of death, Blood, Medical Terminology, Italian and French with English translations

Story takes place during Episode 6-Bastogne

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

Bastogne September 1944

“Rosaria Marie Le-Leeee-on-” the charge nurse, Agatha Hannigan began with difficulty, as she looked over her spectacles at the orders given to her by the young woman standing before her.

“Leone.” The young lady articulated. She was used to people mispronouncing her last name.

The older lady’s lips pursed into a thin line, clearly displeased with being corrected by a replacement. She scribbled a few things on the orders. The charge nurse looked back at the young woman, scanning her from head to toe with every ounce of disdain behind her eyes.

“Why are you wearing soldier’s fatigues? Where is your ward dress uniform? And your apron and head scarf?” Hannigan snapped.

“This is all I ever worn, ma’am. I’m a field medic, so this is my initial issued uniform.” she explained.

Hannigan sniffed at her, then wrote a few more notes on the orders.

“Alright, Rosaria Leone-”

“It’s just Saria-”

“-you and Renée report to me and I report to LT Doc Ryan.” she explained paying no mind to Saria’s statement.

Saria sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”

As she followed Hannigan, they approached a young nurse stirring a large metal pot hanging over a pit in the fireplace. The smell of the steam proved it wasn’t any kind of food she had been mixing but used bandages that were being laundered.

“Renée-” Hannigan bellowed.

The girl turned upon hearing her name. She met the charge nurse and Saria halfway as she dried her hands on her apron.

“-this is our new nurse, Rosaria Lenonni, just in from Aldourne.” Hannigan introduced.

Saria rolled her eyes but remained silent, not bothering to correct her again.

Renée extended her hand, “Bonjour! (Hello!)” she greeted in French.

“Ciao. (Hello.)” Saria returned in Italian with a warm smile shaking Renée's hand.

“You speak Italian?” Hannigan asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hm, a lot of good that’ll do you here. You do know you're in Belgium, right? Renée, you got her from here.” Hannigan snipped, waving her hand as she walked away.

“Oui. (Yes).” Renée replied turning back to Saria, “-Don’t mind her. You’ll get used to her.” she whispered with a grin.

“I’m sure.” Saria responded.

“Viens avec moi (Come with me), I’ll show you around.” Renée gestured to Saria to follow her.

~~~~~~~

December 1944

The months flew by and before Saria could blink, a layer of snow covered the grounds in and around Bastogne. She quickly befriended Renée and the other Congolese nurse, Anna. Together, they worked side by side tending to the wounded, and endured the aftermath of what happened outside of the Church/aid station when soldiers were brought to them. The horrors of blood and gore came in overwhelming waves, but Saria, Anna and Renée worked through the carnage as a team to do what they needed to do to save the men that were brought to them.

More often than not, soldiers have succumbed to their injuries because medical supplies were becoming scarcer. There was very little of everything they needed, and it seemed more and more men were being brought to them daily. They were unable to evacuate the wounded or receive medical supplies due to heavy German advances. Not only did the Germans prevent escape for the injured, but they also captured the 326th Medical team and integrated them into their own medical team to tend to their wounded soldiers.

“Lost another one today.” Renée said to Saria as she sat next to her on a pew against the wall.

Saria shook her head, “Seems to be happening more often, doesn’t it?” she acknowledged.

“Peut-être (Perhaps).” Renée replied as she reached into her apron pocket pulling out a half-wrapped bar of chocolate.

She removed the paper and broke off a piece, handing it to Saria.

“Chocolat?” she asked.

Saria looked at the candy in Renée's hand and smiled weakly as she took it from her.

“Merci.” Saria thanked.

“Prego.” Renée returned in Italian, “Your French is getting better!” she added.

Saria laughed, “You don’t have to be nice about it, Renée, I know it needs work.”

“No, I insist! Your practicing is paying off, mon ami (my friend).” Renée encouraged.

“Well thanks to you.” Saria pointed out.

As they sat there enjoying the sweet treat, a handful of soldiers came in with an injured man on a stretcher, as a medic walked in after them.

Renée and Saria rushed to the men with the injured soldier.

“No, no. Here. Put him here.” Renee instructed.

“Yes, ma’am.” the head soldier carrying the stretcher obliged as they lifted him onto a bed.

“Is he bad?” Saria asked the medic.

“No, lower-leg wound. No morphine.” he replied in a deep calm voice.

Renée took a quick look at the right leg then nodded.

“I’ll get more bandages.” Renée relayed to Saria.

Before Renée could leave the medic was following her, “Nurse, have you got plasma I can--?”

“Wait. Please.” Renée urged before disappearing into another room.

The medic furrowed his eyebrows, discouraged by Renée's response. Saria felt a wave of guilt for him.

She looked back at the soldier on the bed that they just brought in, “What’s your name, soldier?”

“They call me Skinny.” he responded with labored breathing.

“I’m Saria. We’ll get you squared away, ok?” She reassured him with a warm smile.

He nodded with a forced grin since he was obviously in pain. She covered him with a blanket and turned to the same medic standing alone in a doorway watching Anna pack a thigh wound of another soldier while Renée assisted.

The medic turned to Saria, “Hey, what’s going on here? Why aren't these men being evacuated?”

Saria was a little taken back by his dismayed tone.

“We can’t evacuate. We’re cut off, this is far as it goes.” she replied as she side stepped him to get to Renée and Anna.

~~~~~~~

Renée and Saria had returned to Skinny with a bottle of liquor and a glass, pouring him a hefty amount to drink as a pain remedy.

Skinny looked up at the two nurses then looked at the medic, “I think I’m in heaven, Doc.”

The medic smirked briefly.

As Renée and Saria began walking away, the medic called after them, “Nurse-”

“This way.” Renée said, as she motioned him to follow.

The medic walked along side Saria while they followed Renée to the rear of the church where all the supplies were being stored at an extravagant altar.

“I need Morphine. I need bandages. Whatever you got. We’re down to nothin’.” the medic explained.

“Ok, I can give you a little, but not a lot.” Renée replied gravely.

Saria picked up a small wooden crate filled with IV bottles, syringes, and a few syrette cases.

“You can have this today. Do you want that?” Saria asked him.

“Oui. You got plasma?” he questioned urgently.

“A little. Are you a surgeon?” Renée queried.

“No. We don’t got no surgeon.” he replied with a bit of sting behind his voice.

Saria placed a handful of torn cloth into his crate, “What’s this?” he asked, holding up the bulk of cloth.

“From the beds.” Saria replied.

“What, sheets?” he clarified.

“Yes, for bandages.”

A look of shock appeared on the medic’s face as he stared at her.

“It does the job.” Saria said with a soft smile and a shrug.

He nodded, placing the bandages back in the crate.

He stood tall before Renée and Saria when they were done packing the crate with supplies,

“Merci.” he thanked in a low honeyed southern accent.

“Prego.” Saria responded.

The medic shot her a look of confusion, tilting his head studying her like a puzzle.

“Comment vous appelez-vous? (What do you call yourself?)” the man asked Saria and Renée.

Renée looked at him, then looked at Saria expectantly waiting for her to reply.

“Go on, this is a perfect time to practice, mon ami. (my friend).” Renée encouraged Saria.

Saria’s eyes flitted between Renée and the medic,

“Uh-” was all Saria could manage until she heard Renée again.

“Tu peux le faire, mon ami (You can do it, friend).”

Saria took a deep breath, “Je m'appelle Rosaria Leone (My name is Rosaria Leone).”

A smile tugged at the corners of the medic’s mouth.

“My name is Renée.”

“I’m Gene. Eugene Roe.”

“Where are you from?” Renée asked Eugene.

“Louisiana. Half-Cajun. Et toi? (And you?)” he returned.

“Bastogne.” Renée answered.

Eugene looked at Saria.

“Chicago.”

His eyes widened like a deer in the headlights.

“Oh, I thought maybe you-”

“No, I’m American. My parents were born in Tuscany, Italy.” Saria explained.

“I see.” he discerned.

There was a brief silence before he nodded at Saria then turned to follow Renée to the exit.

“Addio, Eugenio. (Goodbye, Eugene).” Saria called after him in Italian.

Eugene turned while still walking away displaying a coy smile.

After some time, Renée returned from showing Eugene out. Her cheeks were rosy, and she wore a subtle smile as she mindlessly stirred the boiling pot of bandages.

“Renée?”

No response.

“Renée?” Saria said again a little louder.

Renée looked at her startled, “Oui?”

Saria laughed, “You were gone for a good couple of minutes. Où étiez-vous? (Where were you?)” Saria stated.

Renée smiled, “I caught up with our new friend to give him some chocolat.”

“That was nice of you, Renée.”

“You can see in his eyes he’s seen some awful things. He needed to be shown some kindness.” Renée explained.

~~~~~~~

It wasn’t the last time Renée and Saria saw Eugene Roe. The second time he had visited, Renée and Saria were frantically trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out from his mid-section. As Saria tried to pack the wound where the source of the bleeding was while Gene had been wiping the blood away so she could see where the artery was. The soldier expired leaving Renée, Gene, and Saria disheartened and lost in their own thoughts.

Saria sauntered towards the spiral staircase to the main entrance so she could go outside to get some air. Eventually, Renée and Eugene joined her. Saria sat by a pile of broken furniture in front of the church, with her face buried in her hands. Renée sat next to Saria draping an arm across her shoulders pulling her in for a side hug.

“Ça va mon ami? (Are you alright, my friend?)” Renée asked.

Saria only nodded; not even sure she really was ok.

Eugene observed each of their hands. Saria’s hands, bruised with remanence of the soldier’s blood after failing to wash all of it off her knuckles and nails and Renée's hands bearing the same appearances. Renée pulled a new bar of chocolate from her apron pocket and began tearing away the paper.

She broke off a section, nudging Saria, “Tiens, belle amie (Here, beautiful friend).”

Saria accepted the chocolate, “Vous êtes trop gentil. (You’re too kind).”

Renée offered Eugene the candy, but as he took it from her, he smiled.

“What?” Renée asked.

“Your hands.” Eugene gestured to her and Saria. Saria slowly looked up at him.

“Our hands?” Renée reiterated.

He nodded, “You’re good nurses.” he complimented.

Renée looked at her hands, “No. I never want to treat another wounded man again. I’d rather work in a butcher’s shop.”

Eugene’s eyebrows drew inward hearing her statement.

“But your touch calms people.” he defended, “That’s a gift from God.” he added.

Renée shook her head, “No, it’s not a gift,” she flipped her hands over to look at the back of them, “God would never give such a painful thing.” she proclaimed.

“Renée, you don’t mean that.” Saria insisted.

“Oh, mais je le fais, mon ami. (Oh, but I do, my friend).” Renee said with a weak smile.

A jeep pulled up with yet another wounded soldier, “Nurse! Nurse! We need some help over here!”

Renée looked over her shoulder, “Stay and rest awhile longer, mon ami. I’ll take care of this.” She said to Saria as she gave her an encouraging hug before she stood up and ran off.

A moment of silence passed before Eugene spoke again.

“Is that how you feel, too?” he asked her.

Saria sighed, “No. I don’t.” she replied confidently shaking her head before meeting his gaze.

“Glad to hear it.” he affirmed with a slight smile as he looked back down at the candy bar in his hand.

Saria folded her hands in her lap.

“Comment se porte ton français? (How’s your French coming along?)” Eugene quizzed her with a mischievous grin.

Saria looked at him alarmed, and slightly embarrassed. She rubbed the back of her neck and began to blush.

“Oh, uh-” she began, “-tellement, tellement (so, so.)” she replied.

Eugene chuckled, “I've heard you do better than that.” he declared, “Tell me something new you’ve learned. Peut-être que je peux aider. (Maybe I can help.)” he offered.

Saria felt heat rise from her collar.

“Ce serait généreux de votre part, Eugène (That would be generous of you, Eugene),” she managed to say, “-merci.”

“Prego.” Eugene answered modestly in Italian with a welcoming smile.

Saria laughed aloud at his playful response.

“Guess I could return the favor and teach you some Italian.” she suggested.

“Sure.” Gene allotted. “Guess I’ll be heading back to the line then. See ya around, mon ami.” He stood and ran towards the jeep to hitch a ride.

Saria watched the jeep speed off with Eugene in the front seat, saying a silent prayer to herself for him to be safe when he makes it to the front lines.

~~~~~~~

Christmas Eve 1944

The third run in with Eugene, he brought in an Easy Company soldier, with an IV already applied. As they carried him in setting him down onto a cot, the receiving medic, Jones, began hounding Gene for the man’s information.

“Where’s his tag?” Jones looked all over the man’s person, then looked at Gene again, “Where’s his tag?”

Eugene stared at his buddy lying on the cot unable to move.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jones pushed.

Eugene looked at him calmly, “Paralyzed.” he responded simply.

“What?” Jones asked.

Eugene sighed, “He’s paralyzed. Can’t feel a thing.” he clarified.

Renée saw him from across the room, “Eugene?”

Gene looked at her, his spirits lifted the moment he saw her smile.

“Eugene.” Renée greeted him.

“Renée-” he replied with frail delight in his voice.

“Are you-” Renee started to ask before she was interrupted.

“-Renée, I need some help over here!” Jones called from the back.

“Are you all right?” Renée continued as she walked towards Eugene.

“Renée! We need you!” Jones called again.

She looked towards the rear of the church where Jones was then huffed in frustration. She met Gene’s disappointed expression, gave him an apologetic smile then scampered off.

“Bonjour, Eugène.” Saria greeted.

“Bonjour, Rosaria, mon ami. (Hello, Rosaria, my friend),” he returned with a fleeting smile.

Saria looked Gene over, “You ok?”

He met her concerned guise with soft tired eyes, “Oui.” he responded plainly.

Saria gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “Je suis toujours là, mon ami. (I’m always here, friend.)” Saria reassured him.

He looked at her and nodded, “Merci, mon ami.” he replied managing a genuine smile.

Saria returned a smile then proceeded past him.

“Oh, and Eugene-” she called back to him.

He turned to her.

“Joyeux noël. (Merry Christmas.)” she projected somewhat cheerfully to him, sending him a wink before he could reply.

Eugene smiled to himself, feeling that bit of warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

~~~~~~~

Eugene returned to the line, only to have to go back to Bastogne to bring LT Welsh to the aid station that night. Upon entering the town, everyone was in a panic, running to find cover from an imminent German air raid heading towards the town.

Upon hearing the siren alerting the town of the attack, Renée and Saria began assisting the wounded who tolerated the ability to move to evacuate the church.

On the other side of the town, Eugene could see the enemy aircraft approaching. He started to race towards the church to see if Renée, Saria, and Anna had been able to reach safety. As he sprinted towards the aid station, the bombers passed overhead releasing shells on every building in their wake until one hit the church, releasing a mushrooming blast from the steeple. Another bomber deploying a bigger explosive, shattered the foundation of the stone building, sending it to shambles to the ground below.

Eugene stopped in his tracks, shielding his eyes from the piercing light from the blast. Frozen from shock and disbelief, his mind began piecing together the possibility that Renée, Saria, and Anna were still in the church during the bombing. To this thought, he began running again, pushing through the crowds to reach his friends.

~~~~~~~

Eugene searched relentlessly for the three nurses. As dawn approached, he began to lose hope. He had asked everyone he bumped into if they had seen Renée, Saria, or Anna. Everyone he asked either hadn’t known the whereabouts of any medical personnel or had conflicting stories of who made it out or not.

Just when Eugene was ready to give up, he saw a familiar figure sitting on a pile of stones that had collapsed from the church. As he cautiously approached, he recognized the face of this young woman seated before him.

“Rosaria?” He addressed the woman with strain behind his voice.

Saria turned slowly; her bloodshot eyes met his hopeful face while tears trailed through the dirt on her cheeks. When she saw it was Eugene, her tear flow increased beyond her ability to see.

“Eugene.” she gasped as she tried to stand to meet him. As she did, she lost her footing on the gravel.

Eugene snaked his arms around her, pulling her into him so she wouldn’t fall forward.

“Hey, now! Je t'ai eu (I got you).” he exclaimed.

He helped her stand up right, pulling her square to him so he could talk to her.

“Are you ok!?” he asked.

“I-I’m alive.” Saria stuttered.

Eugene kneaded her shoulders with his hands.

“Et Renée? (And Renée?) Anna?” he dared to ask holding Saria steady by the shoulders.

Saria looked away from Eugene and began to sniffle. Eugene waited.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a blue head scarf and handed it to him. He took it from her, realizing it was the same one that Renée had worn.

He stared at the blue cloth in his hand as everything began to sink in.

“We-” Saria tried to explain but her overwhelming anguish had her struggling to speak, “-we were evacuating as many men as we could. Renée had----gone back inside to find Anna right before the first shell dropped on the church-”

Eugene redirected his eyes onto Saria. He swallowed hard, biting back the tears he felt building up.

“When the first bomb hit, I tried to go in to get her...then the second one hit blocking the entrance to the church. I couldn’t get to them, Eugene.” Saria whispered, staring over his shoulder reliving the horrific scene as if it was replaying in front of her on a movie screen.

She started to shake her head, “If I had only gotten there sooner-”

“No,” Gene placed a hand on each side of her face bringing her attention to him, “what happened to Renée and Anna is not your fault. You hear me?”

Saria’s tears spilled over like waterfalls.

He pulled her into his chest, allowing her to sob into his jacket as he stroked her hair.

“Ssshhh,” Gene soothed, “Je suis là, belle amie. Je suis là (I’m right here, beautiful friend. I’m here.)”

~~~~~~~

#band of brothers #hbo war #eugene roe #doc roe #shane taylor #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe x oc #ww2 #army #101st airborne #easy company #eugene roe imagine #oc #medic #nurse #combat medic #chicago #italian #french

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anamenooneowns · 2 months

Text

A Creepy Fanfic: The Big Dick.

A/n: This is a fanfic to indulge my inner pre-teens creepypasta phase (which was never really a phase🥀⛓️🖤🤘🏽😔) also, the woman above is not a face claim and you're a spirit entity thing. i'm obviously making up shit bc it sounds cool in my head. so yeah. enjoy.

warnings: Cursing. Death/dead people. Gore? sorta. Horrible jokes bc i think i'm hilarious. No use of y/n. Use of religion to bully another. Bullying. Sex (use condoms pls). Spanking. Name-calling (bitch and cunt). Rough sex. I think thats all... if I missed something lemme know🙂

pairing: ticci toby x you

Water was still when it was untouched. The water in Lake Black has been still since the death of that poor girl–it was so sudden, so awful–awful how everyone in that bumfuck town pretended they had nothing to do with her death. (♱) didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault that her mother was sick, that her mind was broken since the terrible death of her husband, (♱)’s father.

The witches of Black Falls is what they called her and her mother. Rolling their eyes back and pretending to spasm whenever she passed them in school hallways and in public, reciting prayers in their Religion class to ‘ward’ her away, refusing her food in line at the church when she and her mother had been hungry–starving.

But no longer. A dead girl didn’t need to eat after all, right?

Wrong. Because (♱) was hungry. Starved. Ravenous with a need to sink her teeth into the rotting meat that was this town. A stain is what it was. All heretics.

A head split the still waters of Lake Black. Jet-black hair plastered to brown skin, droplets of water clung to her hairline before rolling down, connecting and parting over and again as she continued to rise. The fog that had settled over the water billowed around her body, rising with her slowly, the currents below swirling angrily and bubbled with the white-hot, scalding, burning anger of a woman scorned.

Eyes, white–having lost their iris and pupil–were all sclera and thin, red veins. When her pale blue lips kissed fresh air after having been lost to the bottom of Hell for so long a hiss escaped them. The water relinquished its hold on her as she continued to rise into the embrace of the moon on this beautiful night. The only companion she’s ever had her entire life.

The woman in the moon. Her daddy would make up stories about it. How she had been cast away into the stars for bringing darkness…darkness associated with anything bad. Yet, she was so warm right now. Anything would be considered warm compared to (♱)’s cold body. Undead.

She was going to eat this fucking town. And everyone in it, alive.

Drenched, scuffed sneakers dragged along the asphalt of the street. (♱)’s only goal was to reach the only person here who mattered: her mommy. Each step she took in line with a house on the block set it ablaze, screaming long having made its symphony in the night as they all burned alive. Skin shrinking and fat rendering–it was all so delicious. Her body absorbed it like she was eating, the wounds of her body fading as she gained more… ‘life’ into her.

And when she reached that house, the door opening for her before she could touch it, the sight ran flashbacks through her mind when she was still alive. Out of the mudroom, the stairs to your left in the hallway, up the stairs, the first door to your right was her mother’s room. The door creaked open and there her mommy lay. (♱) neared her and laid on the bed, wrapping her wet, slimy arms around her before weeping softly.

Because her mother was dead. A pill bottle in her hands, and her body cold, but smiling. To think she was ready to leave this place and be with her husband and daughter again, but (♱)’s soul knew where it belonged, and after tonight–it was destined to one place only.

“You shouldn’t be alive.”

Silence.

“I… know,” (♱) croaked. “But I am.”

“So you are,” they affirmed. “You’re gonna stir a lot of shit, but, you don’t know the rules yet so The Operator is letting you off the hook, but you need to come with me. Come with us, and learn.”

“If-if I don’t?”

Something cold pressed against her throat. It was sharp. “You die here, and your soul is sent straight to Hell where it belongs.”

(♱) didn’t care that the blade has sliced into her neck a bit. “I don’t believe in Hell. I don’t think I ever did.”

“All the more reason to come with us then. None of us believe in it much either,” they moved the sharp blade.

She sat up slowly and looked at them. It was a man. He had shaggy brown hair, light brown eyes, and skin as pale as the moon. Looking back at her mother, she leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before standing. “Okay,” she agreed.

A black tar-like substance webbed across the ceiling of the room before lighting up, fire licking away at the interior of the once warm home. It was the end of her old life, and the start of another.

“Y’know, I hate when you do this shit,” Toby grumbled. “It ain’t playin’ fair.”

“Playing fair? That’s for losers, baby,” (♱)’s voice echoed like a purr in his mind, the exact way she’d voice her words if she was in fucking front of him and not hiding.

“Callin’ me a loser, little girl?” he huffed, cutting down the greenery blocking his way.

His eyes flitted around the clearing as he looked for (♱). Ever since she joined them and fell into step quickly with the whole undead thing and learning the extent of her abilities-and them falling in love yada, yada, ya-she was the prettiest damn nuisance he’s ever experienced in his life.

Her laughter echoed from the crows above on the gnarled trees. He growled and huffed out a deep breath from his nose-

“Are you?” A boline knife shaved a bit of his five o’clock shadow. (♱) tilted her head at Toby and smiled, black lips parting to reveal pearly whites at her man. “Loser,” she whispered.

Toby chuckled and pulled his goggles up to rest on his head, brown eyes slicing over to her from the corner of his eye. “Alright, mama… you got me. Training over.”

He turned to her and pulled down his mask, revealing his own smile. A vicious scar ran jaggedly from the left corner of his mouth into a permanent sneer. A half-glasgow as (♱) would tease, a running joke after she had said it to hurt him during a particularly nasty argument. The skin there was taut and deformed, the flesh puckered and a whitish-pink, healed but forever marred. With his skin ripped and pulled back, teeth–which were slightly yellower on this side but just as straight as the rest of the teeth in his mouth–were on permanent display.

(♱) leaned up on the balls of her feet and pecked his lips. “What’s my reward?”

Toby raised an eyebrow and snorted. “You’re jokin’, right? This is part of the job description, sweetness.”

“So? Don’t I deserve a.. I dunno, a fuckin’ blowjob or something?” (♱) huffed.

Toby’s eyes widened. “Babe, what the fuck are you-”

“Look, after how I just fucked you in the ass with that win, I’d say I have a pretty-” (♱) squealed as Toby picked her up and threw her over his broad shoulder-“big dick!”

“Big dick, huh? I’m gonna show you a big dick, little girl, always runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth,” he smacked her ass sharply and then her thigh.

Toby walked toward their cabin, passing Tim and Jeff–Jeff whistling at the sliver of the bottom of (♱)’s ass on display from her ridden-up shorts because, of course–cursing a “Fuck!” when Toby cracked him on the back of the head with the stick of his axe. “You may not be able to close your eyes you lidless fuck, but watch it unless you want me to pluck them out for (♱) to use in her witchy shit.”

(♱) giggled, kicking her legs lazily and waving at the two other men. “Bye, Tim! Fuck you, Jeff.”

In their cabin, which was in a more secluded section of The Operator’s woods, Toby kicked the door open and shut it behind them. “So fuckin’ cocky and thinkin’ you can talk to me however, babe-” he dumped her onto the bed and (♱) giggled, biting her lip as she rolled onto her belly, Toby grabbing her throat and lifting her head to force her into an arch. His eyes looked into her own, seemingly sightless without an iris or pupil, but he knew she could see.

“Then what’re you gonna do about it?” she hissed.

His permanent sneer stretched.

(♱) bobbed her head with a voracious need for the mouth-ripping burn of swallowing down Toby’s dick, a thick oozing string of saliva filled with bubbles and mixed with pre-cum drooling onto her chest and the bed. (♱) was still on her belly on their bed while he stood up above her, a big and pale tatted hand clamped around her neck, rough fingertips digging into the joint connecting her skull and jaw to force her mouth open. Her clothes were sliced off with her own weapon, courtesy of her boyfriend, the bastard.

Those gorgeous white eyes, not as soulless as one would think, looked up at him.

And then there was the rough scrape of enamel against flesh. “Fucking- oh, you litte cunt,” he hooked his fingers over her bottom teeth and pulled her jaw down as far as he could before pistoning his hips forward. A wet gurgle came from her throat as (♱)’s gag reflex was triggered, her nose buried into his pubic hair where the pungent smell of sweat from training had become stale. (♱) gagged and choked, tears rolling down her brown cheeks as her nose burned, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft with each thrust of his strong hips.

And she loved it. God, hearts would be fucking floating around in her pupils if she had any.

“God- you’re fucking disgusting,” Toby laughed dryly. “Bet that pretty pussy is all wet just from suckin’ cock, right, mama?”

(♱) moaned around his length and he finally pulled out of her mouth, smirking as she panted-and also because she let his cock rest against the fold between her cheekbone and nose. “Huh? What was that?” he asked.

“I said… I-I alr..already told you I have a big dick,” (♱) panted with the most impish fucking smile.

Toby let his head fall, shoulders rising and falling in short intervals. He was laughing. “Alright, bitch-” he grabbed a handful of thick curls and (♱) whimpered as he pulled her up to her knees and then used both hands, tucking them between the back of her thighs and calves to pull her forward, making her bounce onto her back. With the wind knocked out of her, Toby was already pushing his turgid cock into her, the pierced head of his length breaching her first, cold and shocking.

(♱)’s hands pressed against his lower abdomen and he snatched her wrists together in one hand and held them in front of him as he fucked her, smirking as the sight of her back arching away from the bed and her hips canting forward, making a bridge. “T-Toby, oh my… fuck!” she whined, breathily. “Sho… big,” she slurred.

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like what I was just hearin’ sweetness. Fuckin’ say it. Who has a big dick again?”

“Y-you-”

He leaned down to her face, head turned so his warm breaths were spread over her ear and neck. “I can’t. Fucking. Hear you,” he snarled.

“You, baby- on…only you!” (♱) wailed.

“Good girl,” Toby licked up the side of her neck, her sweat making his salivary glands sting. He let go of her wrists and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, whining and pursing her lips which he responded to. His lips pressed against hers, tongues sliding against each other as they kissed, suckling and smacking. He pulled away the ripped side of his mouth making divots where the puckered flesh connected to normal skin, he was smiling. “Yeah, there we go… can’t even get a word out.”

(♱)’s eyes were lidded, the muscles of her neck loose as her head fell back onto the mattress. Just babbling quietly, legs crooked at the knee and splayed open, cradling his body between them. Her cunt gripped him tightly, small spurts of cream coating his cock in a thin sheen as he buried himself inside of her warmth over and again. “T-Toby,” she whined.

“Shh, I know, mama–m’gonna take you there,” he panted. His thumb strummed over her clit, his hips stuttering every time she clenched too tight around him, jaw falling open so his ragged breaths could fall from his lips. His free hand wrapped around her throat and she bit her lip and he could tell she was looking at him, straight into his eyes.

It felt like electricity crackling through her nervous system, each shock waking her up but the lack of proper oxygen flow making her dizzy and hazy.

Toby’s balls, heavy and tight–churning with cum–pulled upward, the seam of his sac making the separation of each ball prominent. (♱) sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth that developed into a groan as she was right there. Right… there!

White-hot heat coiled and burst in (♱)’s belly, lava overflowing and extending through her body as her toes curled and her muscles contracted and trembled. Toby pressed her thighs against her chest, her pussy squeezing around him so tight that it forced him out of her, her squirt sluicing over him while he humped himself to completion between the chubby folds of her sweet cunt. His cockhead dipped between her pressed together thighs until it was jumping and twitching, thick ribbons of cum streaming over her plump lips, dripping down her brown skin.

He sighed, grabbing his shaft and running it up and down the seam of her pussy until she whined. “Alright, alright, m’done,” he chuckled.

“R-remind… remind me to p-piss you off-” she lifted her head and smirked at him- “more often.” Toby leaned down on the bed, the muscles of his back shifting and rippling. “Sweetness, you can piss me off as much as you want as long as you remember one thing at the end of the day: I’m the one with the big dick in this relationship.”

#x black fem reader #x black reader #creepy #creepypasta #platonic #fulfilling my inner child #hope you liked it i dont know if it should be a series #it prolly should be to make sense of everything happening but whatever

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cameronspecial · 4 months

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Could you write an enemies to lovers Rafe Cameron x middle class also chubby/curvyReader fanfic? She’s friends with the pogues and spends most of her time with them including Sarah which leads to encounters with Rafe and his goonies. She also hangs out with Sarah but he flirts with her when she’s at Tanney Hill which totally sends mixed signals but Rafe is unpredictable. Rafe has always liked/or loved her but doesn’t show it instead he just teases/makes fun of her every time he sees her which unknowingly builds up onto her insecurities that she’s fat and not worthy of love. She finally has enough with his attitude towards her and decides to confront him on his behavior towards her which leads to a love confession from Rafe but she doesn’t believe him because “how could someone that looks like him want her of all people.” Rafe praises her by telling her how beautiful she is and what he loves about her which leads to smut and then finally they are dating after being idiots for so long.

Don't Know How To Show I Care

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Insecurities About Being Overweight, Comment About Eating A Lot and Making Out.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Rafe is the king of mixed-signals. One day, he could be whispering in her ear how beautiful he thinks she is, causing her to feel a warmth inside of her stomach. The next day, he could be telling her that she is wearing so much makeup that she looks like a clown. Y/N doesn’t understand how he could simultaneously activate her insecurities and make her feel giddy. It is contradictory. “I’m just going to go get my laptop so I can show you,” Sarah says, running upstairs. Y/N sits at the kitchen island and keeps eating their shared ice cream from the tub. Rafe comes into the kitchen for a glass of water, noticing the amount of ice cream in front of the girl. “Are you eating all that ice cream by yourself?” he questions. Her heart tightens at his words. She takes the spoon out of the tub and pushes it away from her. She turns away from him, not in the mood to be dealing with this Rafe today.

—

Y/N sits at the dinner table pushing her food around on her plate. Rose is in the kitchen, getting dessert ready. Wheezie is sleeping at a friend's house. Ward is eating at the office and Sarah is on an emergency call with John B. This leaves Y/N alone at the table with Rafe. His eyes are trained on her plate and he watches as none of her food makes it into her mouth. “Why aren’t you eating?” he worries. She lets out a low chuckle, “Like you care. I thought I ate too much for you. It’s the reason why I’m so fat, isn’t it?” His hands slam on the table and he stands up. “Don’t ever call yourself fat again,” he orders a finger pointing at her. “Why? It’s not like you don’t say it in every other way,” she screams back.

“No, that’s never what I meant by what I said. Okay… I may not be the best at showing that I care, but I said those things because I did. Because I love you.”

“That is not funny. Why would you love me? How could someone like you be into someone like me?”

Silence fills the room as Rafe rounds the table to stand in front of her. He towers over her with a soft look on his face. “I don’t know. How could I love someone so beautiful and funny? It’s not that hard,” he confesses. She looks up at him with big eyes, “You really don’t think those things do you?” “I do. You are the most amazing person that I have ever known. I’m sorry that I made you insecure about yourself. It was never my intention and I am fully prepared to spend the rest of my life apologizing to you,” he promises, taking hesitant steps forward. She wraps her arms around his neck, “You can start by kissing me if you want to apologize. She doesn’t know why she has this confidence, but she acts on it. His hands round her waist and he attacks her with his lips. The kiss gets heated, making her jump into his hold. He breaks away from the kiss, “I never want to hear you call yourself fat again. Okay? Because that will never be true.” “Okay, but I doubt you’ll be saying that when you can’t carry me for long,” she argues. He shakes his head, “If I can’t carry you for long, it just means I have to hit the gym and work on my endurance. My stamina has nothing to do with you.”

Her heart flutters at the words and she loves how it eases her insecurity. She goes back to kissing him, yearning to feel more of him, so he puts her down so they can go upstairs. She giggles as he pushes her toward the bed and the door shuts with a boom.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama

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frodo-cinnamonroll · 8 months

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Tears of Fear: Part 1

Plot/Summary: Requested by @almost-gabrielle. Y/N is a loyal hobbit traveling with Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, and Strider. At first, things go alright, but when the six of you camp at Weathertop, the Black Riders find you, and Strider isn’t there to help. Frodo is wounded and time is running out as you try to make your way to Rivendell.

I decided to make this into a two-part series because of its length.

Warnings: wounds, quite angsty, fluff

Paring: Frodo x Fem!hobbit!reader

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: This is an excerpt (that I haven’t written prior to writing this fic) from my fanfic series The Heart of a Hobbit. Therefore, I do not consent to any part of this being copied in any way (other than reblogging, of course). Thank you for understanding! Enjoy! :)

—----------------------------------------

I awoke that night to the sounds of a crackling fire and hushed voices. The night air that brushed my face was cooling. I yawned gently and opened my eyes. Frodo was there, still asleep and bundled tightly in his blanket. I rubbed my eyes and sat up stretching. Sam, Merry, and Pippin all sat around the fire. I smelled meat being cooked.

“What’s the time?” I asked groggily.

Merry shrugged. “I’m not sure but we’ve got food.”

“That’s what’s important,” Pippin said with a nod.

“Didn’t Strider say not to make a fire?” I said in a worried tone.

“See,” Sam said to the others, “I told y—”

“It’s not been going for long!” Pippin interjected. “We’ll put it out soon after we eat. What’s a little warmth anyway?”

I sat down near them with a small frown. “I don’t like it,” I mumbled, “but I’m not in charge.”

However, I gladly took the food that the others offered, feeling famished after all the walking of the day.

A few minutes passed when Frodo stirred, blinking sleepily. He then sat up, a worried look on his face.

“What are you doing?” he said, deepening the apprehension I felt.

“Tomatoes, sausages, and some nice crispy bacon,” Merry said.

“We saved some for you, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said.

Frodo rushed to his feet and stomped out the flames. “Put it out you fools! Put it out!”

“Oh, that’s nice!” Pippin said, looking distraughtly at his tomatoes. “Ash on my tomatoes!”

Not a moment passed that Pippin had spoken when a terrifying and all-too-familiar screech filled the air. It took me a second to overcome the paralysis that froze me in place, but the five of us scrambled to the edge and peered below. Although it was a dark night other than the wavering rays from the moon, I could see even darker shapes moving through the mist. They seemed like voids with legs and swords.

Frodo drew his sword and the rest of us followed suit.

“Go!” he said.

The five of us ran up the weathered stone stairs to the summit of Weathertop. A thick mist crowned the edge of the hill like a net holding us in. The moon now seemed like a spotlight pinpointing our position. We formed a small circle, facing outwards. I gripped my sword as tight as I possibly could, holding it in front of me as if to ward off the monsters in the shadow by some hidden courage that I could not feel. But my sword wavered in my trembling hands and I fought back the tears of fear in my eyes.

Looking this way and that, I awaited any moment that the Black Riders would lunge out from the darkness. Then I heard my own frightened voice saying over and over.

“What are we to do? What are we to do?”

“Hold on,” Frodo said, grasping my hand and gripping his sword ever tighter. “Strider will come. He will. We just need to hold on.” But he didn’t sound like he believed it. I didn’t either. I knew Strider didn’t want harm to come upon us, but he was not near, so he could not help us. None could help us now.

Then my blood froze again as the sound of a sword unsheathing sang from my left. Then my right. And all around.

Shing!

I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. The terror within me made my mind seem to run wild. I saw the dark hooded figures come forth, the metal of their boots clinking like the sound of heavy chains. They spoke no word yet it seemed far worse than if they had. I felt a burning sensation of cold hard fear in my mind.

There is no escape. The thought said. No escape.

And now a tear did fall down my cheek as we backed closer into our circle. The Black Riders lowered their swords as if getting ready to skewer a boar. Helplessness welled up inside of me.

“Get behind me Y/n,” Frodo said, but his voice was distant and wavering.

Then Sam jumped forward shouting, “Back you devils!” with ferocity and loyalty.

Then my senses seemed to gain ground in my mind again. The Riders were here for Frodo and the Ring and I couldn’t let them get either.

Sam charged and was thrown aside in an instant. I planted myself straight in front of and let out the best battle cry I could summon, though it sounded nothing more than a last shout of terror. The Riders hesitated for half a moment, but nothing more. The foremost met my sword with such strength, or perhaps intimidation, that my sword cracked and flew out of my hand. My desperate eyes had hardly turned back to the enemy in front of me when I felt cold hard metal surrounding my throat. I was lifted above the ground, all air leaving my lungs. I choked and the fear took over my mind once more as I struggled, more tears falling.

“No!” Frodo yelled.

I was dropped, gasping and searching for breath. I could not stand. All felt cold. The Riders advanced, and although Merry and Pippin tried to barricade their way, they were removed easily out of the Riders’ path and thrown to the ground. Frodo stumbled backwards, dropping his sword. He struggled away from the Riders looming ever nearer. He looked like a helpless creature. Trapped. My heart burned within me but I had no strength. I saw a glint of gold in the cold moonlight then he disappeared.

A momentary vision of ghostly kings surrounding a small halfling flickered before my eyes and was gone.

“Fro—” but my throat seemed to tighten and I sank to the ground, looking up at the Riders.

If only I could distract them. I crawled towards a jagged stone, straining with every muscle in my body to grab it. I felt it cold in my hand, but before I could raise my arm, a lot of things happened. I heard a muffled cry that sounded like it came from under the earth. Strider leapt out of nowhere, a torch blazing like his eyes as he charged on the Riders. He fought them off with more ferocity than I had imagined he could show. For a moment he seemed like a mighty king of valor protecting his people. My struggling breath eased, though not fully.

But my attention was turned when I heard a more distinct and present cry not far away. Frodo lay on the ground, breathing ragged breaths, his eyes wide. My strength restored, I ran over with Sam right beside. The agony on Frodo’s face dissipated all fear of the attacking Riders, and a new fear rose within me. All five of us were kneeling next to Frodo. Sam took one of his hands and I took the other, putting my hand on his forehead. I saw the slit in Frodo’s cloak where the Black Rider’s blade had pierced him in the shoulder.

Strider fought off the last Rider and Sam cried, “Strider!”

Strider ran over quickly, kneeling.

“Help him, Strider,” I said. I was fighting back tears.

“He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade,” Strider said, picking up the knife. The blade turned to dust and Strider threw the hilt to the ground in disgust. “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.” Strider picked up Frodo, who gave a strained cry.

We all stood, following Strider. I kept in step as well as I was able as we made our way down Weathertop.

“Grab the pony, Sam,” Strider ordered. Sam did so and we jogged into the forest.

“Hurry!” Strider called, holding a torch high. He held Frodo like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. I could hear Frodo whimpering and it broke my heart even more.

“We’re still six days from Rivendell!” Sam said. “He’ll never make it!”

I shook my head. “Don’t say that.” My voice broke.

“Hold on, Frodo,” Strider said.

“Gandalf!” Frodo cried distantly.

A tear fell down my cheek. I clenched my jaw and ran faster.

After what seemed too long, we reached a small clearing. There were three large, frowning statues forming a circle.

“Mr. Bilbo’s trolls!” Sam said.

Strider gently set Frodo down on the ground. Sam and I knelt beside him and Merry and Pippin stood with torches Strider had given them. I took Frodo’s hand and brushed some of his hair from his forehead. He was sweating.

“Frodo,” I said. “Hold on.”

Frodo wasn’t responding. His eyes were wide and his pupils small. They were searching unseeingly above. I fought the tears that threatened to spill again.

“Look, Frodo,” Sam said quietly. “It’s Mr. Bilbo’s trolls.”

Frodo started coughing. He winced and moaned. Sam put a hand on his forehead.

“Mr. Frodo?” he said. He turned toward Strider who was searching the ground with the light of the torch. “He’s going cold.”

“Is he going to die?” Pippin asked.

“He’s passing into the Shadow World,” Strider said gravely. “He’ll soon become a Wraith like them.”

Frodo gasped, struggling. Not but a moment later, the Black Riders’ shrieks sounded, and it was much closer than I would have liked. I kissed Frodo’s hand, holding it to my chest. My own were shaking.

“They’re close,” Merry said.

Strider turned to Sam. “Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?”

Sam stood like a soldier ready to go into battle. “Athelas?”

“Kingsfoil.”

“Kingsfoil, aye, it’s a weed.”

“It may help slow the poisoning. Hurry!”

Sam and Strider hurried off, looking for the right plant. I began to shiver, not because it was cold, but because of the fear building up inside of me. Then I heard a faint sound that caused me to freeze. Hooves not far away. I held Frodo’s hand tighter, waiting for a Black Rider to appear. But then Strider and another person on a white horse came forward. She was beautiful and had long dark hair. Her skin was pale and fair. A light seemed to shine faintly from her as she and Strider knelt beside Frodo. I stood, giving them space to work, watching with worry.

“Frodo,” the lady said. “I am Arwen—I’ve come to help you. Hear my voice, come back to the light.”

Frodo’s breaths were uneven as he turned his head to look up again.

“Who is she?” Merry said.

“She’s an elf,” Sam said in awe.

“He’s fading,” Arwen whispered to Strider. She pulled back Frodo’s shirt on the left side, revealing his wound. The flesh was black and I could see the darkness spreading in his veins across his shoulder. Strider tore a leaf of the kingsfoil off the main plant with his teeth and placed it in the wound. Frodo gasped. I wrung my hands and bit my lip as I watched.

“He’s not going to last,” Arwen said. “We must get him to my father.”

Strider picked Frodo up, carrying him towards Arwen’s horse. I followed, standing at a short distance. Strider set Frodo upon the horse and he and Arwen spoke softly together. I tried to catch what they were saying but most of what they said was in elvish.

“What are they saying?” I heard Pippin ask.

“I do not fear them,” Arwen said now. Strider took her hand and squeezed it.

“As you wish,” Strider said. He stepped back as she mounted the horse, sitting behind Frodo who was slumped over. “Arwen, ride hard. Don’t look back.”

“Where are you taking him?” I said, no longer holding back my tears.

“To Rivendell,” Arwen said, “to my father. It is his only hope.” She gave me a brief smile but it offered little confort. She nudged the horse forward, saying something in elvish, and it took off.

“What are you doing? Those Wraiths are still out there!” Sam cried.

My heart pounded and I attempted to run after her. “Wait! I must come! Wait! Frodo!”

Strider held me back.

“I have to be with him! I have to help him!”

“Shh,” Strider said, kneeling in front of me and holding me firmly. “There is nothing you can do. He must go. It is the only way he will survive.”

“But I have to—” I wept, struggling. “I can’t leave him. He needs me. I need him. I can’t—”

Strider wrapped me in his arms. “Hush, child. Providence will likely succeed.”

“But I have to be there if I need to say goodbye,” I continued. “I need to. I need…” But I could say no more in my weeping.

“You will see him again, alive in well with Providence in our favor,” Strider said, his voice strained. “It is beyond you now, but you will see.”

I leaned into Strider, shaken by my sobs. “Frodo,” I whimpered as tears soaked my face. “Frodo, no. Frodo. Frodo.”

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wheretheharekissesthefox · 6 months

Text

A new beginning, a new purpose

Karlach and Wyll are out of Avernus, but with Mizora dead, the warlock has lost all his powers. He struggles to find a new purpose in life. He's not the only one who struggles.

(Trigger warning: smut, fluff, character study)

Notes:

This is a continuation of this fic.

Two other fics (Why do you make me feel this way? & Tav’s gift) are mentioned.

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.

I used official D&D/Forgotten Realms maps to pinpoint the locations of Gale's tower house and the Jade Jug Inn, as well as other locations. The maps can be found here, here, and here.

After three years, Tav had finally gotten her voice back, they'd found a way to fix Karlach's mechanical heart and break Wyll's contract, and gotten them out of Avernus. It would have been a time of celebration, but instead, Wyll was moping. He sat in front of the window of the little room he shared with Karlach in the Jade Jug, staring at the busy intersection of Waterdeep Way and the High Road. He felt lost.

Tav had somehow managed to convince Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Shadowheart to be in a polyamorous relationship with her and each other. They lived in Gale's tower house which was located at Coin Alley in the Castle Ward, bordering right at the sea, overlooking Naval Harbour. From there, one could directly walk into the small park behind the buildings which bordered at Mount Waterdeep. It was the perfect location to take Scratch and Naïlo on walks and let them run around freely. Their home was too small to host two more people though, thus, Karlach and Wyll had to stay in an inn. The tiefling didn't mind and was just happy to leave Avernus behind and be able to live without the fear of overheating. She finally could touch people again, and that's what she did now. Hugging her friends and smooching their cheeks, arm wrestling with sailors in the Blue Jack tavern next door, shaking hands with inn keepers, bartenders, and merchants. Karlach had kissed Wyll too. They'd grown closer during their time in Avernus, had become lovers even. But they hadn't had sex yet. Wyll felt awkward about it. He hadn't slept with anyone in a long time and he was nervous to screw it up. Also, his mind was busy with other things; mastering the world without powers, facing his father, finding a new purpose... It was all so complicated and scary.

Tav had killed Mizora brutally and without Wyll's consent, annulling his demonic contract. He'd been furious, had yelled at the bard and had said some nasty things he regretted now. Afterwards, he'd basically ran off and barricaded himself in the tavern room. Only Karlach had followed him, had listened to his rants, and hugged him. But after a while, even the good-natured tiefling had gotten tired of his gloomy mood and had excused herself to go for a nice, cold, frothy beer.

Wyll buried his face in his hands and groaned. He was in the process of screwing everything up. The door banged open and Karlach waltzed in with two tankards of beer and a charcuterie board in her hands.

"Heads up, sunshine, I got you some food!"

She slammed the door shut with her foot and placed everything on the small, round table in the middle of the room.

"Thanks," muttered Wyll.

He turned the chair around and unenthusiastically nibbled on a piece of cheese. The tiefling sighed deeply, rolled her eyes, and stuffed some sausage slices into her mouth.

"You know, moping won't get you anywhere," she told him. "Life's not as grim as you make it out to be. We're out of Avernus, my engine's fixed, and you can start over. Get a new purpose and such."

"I didn't ask for a new purpose, Karlach. I was happy where I was," hissed Wyll irritated.

The tiefling looked at him.

"Were you? Really? Did you enjoy being Mizora's pet and following her orders? I don't want to spoil your mood, but I can count on both hands how many times you weren't happy with your situation – and how many times Tav tried to clean up your messes. I don't think I have to mention the entire ruckus about saving your father, do I?"

"No," Wyll grunted into his tankard.

Karlach shoved a slice of cheese into her mouth and remarked: "You should apologise to Tav. You may not like what she did, but she did what had to be done. She freed you, Wyll. Gave you your life back into your own hands. And now, you can do whatever you want. And if it's alright with you, I'll stay with you."

The addressed smiled a little.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I'd love it if you'd stay by my side."

"That's a relief," laughed the tiefling. "I was worried that you're fed up with me and wanted to get rid of me."

"Never. You've become a solid rock in my stormy life. And you mean a lot to me," admitted Wyll with a heated face.

Karlach beamed at him.

"Aww, you're too sweet."

She leaned over the table and asked: "Can I kiss you?"

The addressed nodded, with his heart jumping in his chest. Karlach connected their lips and Wyll shuddered. Even though her infernal engine was permanently cooled down by the magic of the moon goddess Selûne, the tiefling's skin was still incredibly warm. And Wyll wanted more.

"Can we - Would you mind if - the bed?"

Before he had time to be embarrassed about his stuttering, Karlach got up and walked towards the double bed, pulling her shirt over her head. Wyll stumbled after her, fighting with his clothes. His lover snickered, lending him a hand to get rid of his trousers. Karlach flopped down on the plush mattress, grinning like the cat that got the canary, and was utterly shameless about her nudity. Wyll couldn't take his eyes of her. The red skin, scars, black-inked tattoos, the metal outlets for the heat generated by her mechanical heart, her black hair with red highlights, the pointy ears with dozens of piercings, those golden eyes, the soft lips, and the beaming smile that revealed oh-so sharp white teeth.

"Like what you see?" Karlach asked with a smirk.

"Yes," Wyll admitted without shame.

It paid off and his lover's smile got even bigger.

"Come here. I want to kiss you some more. And I want to touch you. You have no idea how much I crave touching you."

"I can imagine," said Wyll and climbed onto the bed.

The tiefling pulled him into a hug and kissed him while she ran her hands all over his body. The warlock shivered at the touch. She was so gentle even though she could crush him in no time if she wanted to. Teasingly, her sharp fingernails scratched through his happy trail and he moaned. Karlach grinned smugly and did it again.

"Come on, sunshine, let me ride you until we both see stars."

"Yes. Gods, yes," Wyll groaned, kissing her hungrily.

The tiefling pushed him down and straddled him.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

She laughed at her lover's equally confused and flustered face. Then, she gingerly placed her hands on his chest and started to move. Wyll's mouth fell open in a moan and he grabbed onto her powerful thighs. She felt amazing around him. Karlach threw her head back, panting, with her sharp teeth on full display. She looked beautiful and strong, and the warlock never wanted to see anyone else on top of him ever again.

"Gods, babe... you're amazing," he whispered.

Karlach gazed at him, replying cheekily: "I know."

She quickened her pace, rolling her hips and dropping her entire weight onto him, using it to her advantage to take him deeper. Wyll's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he moaned and bucked up.

"Mmh, yes," sighed Karlach. She started to draw circles on her clitoris and Wyll could feel her tighten around him. He bit his lip, but couldn't keep his orgasm at bay any longer. He came with a loud, blissful moan, spilling into his lover. Karlach threw her head back and followed him over the edge soon after. She rolled off of Wyll and pulled him into a lazy kiss.

"I'm in heaven," she sighed.

"So am I," Wyll said, and they snickered.

They lay in each other's arms, trying to catch their breath.

"I'm still unsure what I'll do next," the warlock mumbled, "but I'll travel to Baldur's Gate and talk to my father. He deserves to know that I'm back and what happened. I'd like to stay there too. I love my birthplace, and I'd love if you'd come with me."

"Of course I will," smiled Karlach. "I love Baldur's Gate too – despite the fucked up things that happened there. Once we're there, we can figure out what we want to do."

"I'd like to start a family – with you," Wyll blurted out.

"Really?" She smiled. "And you wouldn't mind that half-tieflings will carry the name Ravengard?"

"Of course not! I love you and I want –"

Wyll broke off, embarrassed. Karlach frowned, probing: "You want what?"

"Kids. With you," he muttered.

She smiled softly.

"I'd like that. Little Wylls and Karlachs running around Baldur's Gate. They'll be menaces."

They burst out into laughter. The barbarian kissed the warlock's temple and told him: "You'll find a new purpose, and maybe that new purpose is making a family with me."

She winked at him suggestively and he chuckled. Karlach was right; he'd more than enough time to begin a new chapter in his life, but first, he needed to apologise to Tav and talk to his father. Afterwards, the entire world was waiting to be explored.

Halsin put down his teacup and announced: "I decided to lead the refugees of Baldur's Gate to Thaniel's Realm. The former Shadow-Cursed Lands have recovered and will serve as a new home for them. The refugees deserve a place where they belong and are welcome. Thus, I'll accompany Karlach and Wyll on their journey to Baldur's Gate."

Astarion, Gale, Shadowheart, and Tav looked at him silently, clearly dumbfounded.

"I see," Tav spoke then. "Will you guide them? Will you become their leader and archdruid?"

To her surprise, the addressed shook his head.

"No. I thought about it, but I'm not suitable to be a leader. I don't want to be one. I had to carry such a responsibility for one hundred years, and frankly, it was a burden. I'm not willing to sacrifice my newfound freedom and happiness for such a cause. Do you - do you think that's selfish?"

"No. You know your limits, that's all," Tav answered. "You're allowed to have boundaries and they should be respected."

Halsin nodded with a relieved sigh.

"Would you like my assistance?" asked Gale. "I could portal you all directly to Thaniel's Realm. There's no reason for a strenuous journey if not strictly necessary."

"I appreciate your offer, but I must do this alone," the druid explained. "I'd like to have a new purpose, now, that we found a way to free Karlach and Wyll from Avernus. I'm looking forward to see Thaniel again – and Oliver. If the people are willing to build a new life in Thaniel's Realm, I'll lead them there. A little journey never hurt anyone and it'll give the people time to assimilate to the idea of a new home. Wouldn't you agree?"

The addressed nodded and Halsin smiled at them.

"Thank you. I appreciate your support. I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Don't let us wait too long, love," Tav teased and gave him a quick but gentle kiss.

Halsin huffed a laugh.

"I wouldn't dream of it. I'll be back home soon."

"Good luck and take care."

Smiling, the bard hugged and kissed him again. Halsin had called Gale's tower house 'home' for the first time, and she knew he would hold his promise.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #karlach x wyll #karlach #karlach cliffgate #wyll #wyll ravengard #halsin #tav #halsin x tav #mind the trigger warning

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mlmxreader · 1 year

Text

Rattlesnakes | John Price x m!reader

Anonymous asked: Price with “I want you to be mine tonight” please?

summary: Price takes you out for the evening, and although it isn't the best in the world, at least you can still have fun together.

tws: swearing

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At the best of times, stars and stripes were the same as the sound as the rattle of a snake's tail; sure, it might have been a harmless bull snake, trying to ward off trouble by making itself seem more dangerous than it really was, but who would be stupid enough to try and give a snake grief without knowing whether it was a harmless friend, or a deadly foe?

Stars and stripes surrounded you, and they were all the same; obnoxious, rude, glory chasers more than anything else. They clicked their fingers at bartenders and waiters alike, demanded attention and thought their silly uniforms gave them some sort of priority. You wondered why Price had asked you to meet him at a place where you were surrounded by bullsnakes and rattlesnakes, not wanting to piss one off in case it bit you.

At least there were a few decent people around; you could see a few Pakistan Army uniforms here and there, a few British army, a handful of Indian Army. At least there were corn snakes around; you relaxed when they were near, knowing that they wouldn't give you grief like those dressed in stars and stripes did. At least they wouldn't bite you for so much as looking their way.

It used to be a nice place, until it got packed with stars and stripes; it used to be a decent place, filled with decent people - now it was full of assholes who thought that glory was more important than decency. Victory more important than kindness. It used to be a nice place. Now, it was dirty and the smoking area was filled with rich boys puffing on vapes and talking in heavy American accents; they used to serve curries and chillies, used to serve proper food.

"Bloody yanks," you felt relief wash over you when Price joined you, his Scouse accent so thick and so comforting to hear. At least there was an adder to keep you safe amongst the rattlesnakes. "One of 'em kicked off at the bartender for charging him full price - thought he deserved a discount because of that stupid uniform."

You scoffed, leaning into his side and grumbling as you took your drink, the cool glass against your warm skin a reminder that you had been dragged to the worst place on the planet. "I did tell you that it wasn't a good idea to come here."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, chewing at the inside of his lip for a moment. "But it's a special occasion, innit?"

"Fuck our anniversary," you grumbled. "If we have to be surrounded by swine, I'd rather go somewhere else."

Price couldn't help but to laugh softly, putting his arm around you and humming softly. "They'll leave soon anyway, you know yanks can't hold their drinks - they'll be gone by the hour."

"That sounds like a bet," you mused. "Tenner on it?"

"Alright," he agreed with an absentminded smile, pulling you a little closer so that he could really feel you against him.

It really was a special occasion, five years together and counting; he was debating whether or not to ask you if you would sign a ketubah, if you would consider standing beneath a chuppah with him, but there was all the time in the world for that. He could wait, he just wanted to make the most of what you currently had together.

The wonderful adventures spent hiking up mountains, planning all the different places he wanted to take you; time had slipped through his fingers, he could have sworn it was only yesterday that he had taken you to Liverpool with him to meet his family. Introducing his beloved boyfriend to everyone he cared about was the best decision he ever made; he regretted not being able to freeze the moment.

He wanted to picture every second, frame it and display it on the mantle so that the only tricks time would pull on it would be the occasional line of dust on the frame; he regretted not being able to turn back time and just make it all stop for a few moments. Time slipped through his fingers more than he could think; he remembered bringing you to this pub when he first met you, on your second outing together.

Really, if he had anyone to thank for it, it was Gaz; you were old friends going back to secondary school, and Gaz had introduced you to Price when you came to the base for the day, planning on going to a concert with your old friend later on. Price still remembered that first day so fondly.

The way you absolutely took his breath away, how your smile was the very first thing he noticed; that was two years before you even started dating, building up a friendship before finally admitting you cared for one another. Price fell instantly, but the two years to admit it were more than worth the wait because now he had you against his side, and knew you would always be there.

"Do you still remember when we weren't dating, and you made me pretend to be your boyfriend?" You asked with a soft laugh.

"When we were at the Skindred concert?" He chuckled when you nodded. "All I said was that I want you to be mine tonight."

"And why was that?"

"Because a woman kept asking me to cop off with her," he snickered. "Even though I kept saying - I'm not attracted to women... but you did save my ass, pup."

"You saved mine a whole lot more," you pointed out. "How many times have creeps come up to me and you've put them in their place?"

"A lot more than once," he nodded, taking a quick look around before swiftly pulling you onto his lap with a sly smile. "But isn't that what I'm here for?"

You leaned into him, hooking your arms around his neck as you hummed ever so softly. "You've always been my knight in shining armour, John."

"And I always will be," he murmured, putting one hand at your lower back, fingers splayed as the other rested at the back of your neck, digging into your skin ever so wonderfully. "Do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Give us a kiss," he grinned, groaning softly when you crashed against him.

It was like the thousands and dozens of other kisses you had shared, so soft and so gently as he kept you as close as he could; he was rough enough as it was when he was working, he never wanted to be anything but gentle where you were concerned. You, his precious boyfriend, the only man he loved, the man he cherished and adored; the thought of being rough with you made his stomach churn.

Even when he took control and deepened the kiss, drawing a muffled laugh from you, he couldn't bring himself to be rough; tenderness was always Price's preferred method of making you smile and grin, especially when he was kissing you. You started to move, grabbing his hair with one hand, tugging at his shirt with the other; he shifted his hips, then broke away as he grinned.

"C'mon," he breathed out. "I need to see you in the smoking area."

You nodded eagerly, getting off of his lap and letting him grab your hand tightly as he lead you through the pub; the smoking area was dark, and when he pressed you against the cold wall, you barked out a sharp laugh.

"So," you tugged him closer by his shirt. "What's the plan?"

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jackiequick · 8 months

Text

The day she got brought in | Agents Of SHIELD Fanfic

Summary: What if the thing you were waiting for came at the the wrong time? Or in Amelia Parker’s case, when she was street racing in Puerto Rico to let off a little steam after being rejected by her schools.

Pairing: Amelia Parker & Grant Ward, Rick Banner x Luna Marsh

Characters mentioned: Phil Coulson, Bobbi Morse, Lance Hunter, Grant Ward, Melissa Wallace and etc.

——

It’s been months. But it felt like years for her. She has been told time and time again she wasn’t surely good enough to be apart of certain schools. Regretted time and time for the schools she applied to. Only two accepted her but she wasn’t too pleased.

She never wanted to go to college to be exact.

But she need a career. She wanted a future.

Something interesting.

So she applied for SHIELD Academy at a certainly young age. She knew that SHIELD existed ever since she just a little girl, especially after the accident that happened at Stark Expo.

She thought there was a huge possibility that she would get in. Her cousin, Peter Parker, parents were agents of shield themselves before they died. On top of that, her aunt Bobbi and uncle Hunter are agents as well!

So she studied, practiced her skills and tried to explain herself in every letter as a someone who deserved a chance. A chance to help SHIELD future agents and heroes. Since Amelia was good at boxing, had a huge hand when it came to sewing, believing she’s pretty okay with a computer and had communication skills. Also well as scouting places and some design.

However after every letter and application, she kept getting rejected.

Then she thought it about, why am I not surprised? My grades aren’t too good, my only concern is that I’m too emotional for the field and my records were bad.

~~~~~

She’s a street kid for gods sake! Her actions didn’t measure up, hanging out with a so called “wrong crowd” according to the police, stealing parts and racing borrowed cars while earning cash on the side. The girl sounded like a young criminal.

And honestly she didn’t care, she loved it. The music, the people, the rush you get from being behind the wheel, the talks and the community built around it. The type of people she met made her smile.

There wasn’t too many rules and no one questioned whether you were good enough. Because if you ask a racer, any real racer doesn’t matter if you win by a inch or a mile, winning is winning. It’s all about passion and love for the lifestyle.

Currently she sat behind her wheel, sliding down towards the area where everyone was at. Her mind was running a mile a minute.

Puerto Rico baby! The smell of food from the streets, the music blasting from cars, people chatting with one another, laughing being shared. The men in and women were dresses in the best mood you ever seen.

People from every race and backgrounds crowded the area. It felt like heaven

Amelia parked her blue skyline in a perfect scene nearby a few shaded orange, deep green and hot rod red cars. She was dressed black short skirt, a deep gray top and a red flannel. Black sneaker. Her curls were loosely bouncing around as she walked over to a small group.

“Ahh! Look who showed up!” Yelled Nico giving her a hug.

“Girl we thought you weren’t gonna make it.” Shouted Kira chuckling.

“Be nice, be nice! She was just fashionably late to the party.” Added Jesse, joking around holding up his cash for tonight.

The group walked and talked, grabbing a bite to eat as they catches up with one another. Talking about their deals and how they were planning a small heist for extra gasoline to sell at Jesse’s shop. But first Amelia need to check out the competition and sneak into other locations to exchange a few items.

They were in a middle questioned when she asked.

Amelia rolled her eyes chuckling, “Your hilarious, all of you. Who’s the racing tonight?”

“Ok I’ll tell you!” Nico explained everyone who racing that night and even added, “You see the tall blonde over there with the pretty brunette around his arms? They’re racing the first round tonight.”

It nighttime so she couldn’t see them too well. Still she tried to looked over across the crowd, to see blonde with dark eyes carrying a cheeky grin.

And his girlfriend was wearing a puffy jacket and shyly giggles to what he was talking about. She taught they must’ve been an adorable little couple, secretly ready to wipe the floor with them.

She didn’t think too much of it. However her friend, Kira, was more interested in how they raced.

But they didn’t have to wait for long, since the moment Kira said, “Ready, set, go!”

They were off. And they were fasted! Rushing around the stores, turning up the furious speed, passing through a crowd of cars, and sliding across small obstacles to get to the finish line.

Impressive. Very impressive.

The brunette won first, and a few others coming in at a close second. She screamed and smiled shyly at winning as one of the other racer went to congratulate her. The rest of the crowd clapped and cheered.

But Amelia wasn’t paying too much attention as she clapped, checking her phone and the corners of the road behind them.

Hoping cops didn’t came. Watching their backs.

When it was her time to race in the second round, she jumped into her skyline and joked with the other racers.

Once again, Kira started yelling loudly “Go!”. Amelia made it and snappy.

Turning up the NOS when needed, taking a left turn to pass another car and even flipped off another race who tried to cut her off. Speeding off, switching on the radio, laughing and watching the other cars driven past her.

In the end, she didn’t win but she didn’t care. She had fun feeling the rush behind the wheel, being free in her seat and all her worries were thrown away focused on the road instead.

But she hopes were broken, as Jesse yelled out, “Cops are coming!”

Her eyes widen muttering, “Shit!”

~~~~~

Everyone jumped into their races, speeding off quicker than expected. Once she hoped she was out of clear an hour later, Amelia sneaked into an small old facility of full cars.

She held up her flashlight towards the back end of each vehicle.

Beautiful. Each one styled differently and wonderfully useful.

She looked around to find the place empty as she snapping pictures and started to pop off the hood of an car.

The girl was lucky to find a gorgeous cherry red convertible. Hell, she would kill to just have this for a drive to the beach.

Before she could get her hands on soft inventor and possibly get a better look at this reliable beauty…

..she heard it.

She turned off her phone as she started rushing to hide behind boxes and corners. But she was too late.

She woke up, in the hallway nearby the exist. Blinking she turned to face a young man, not even 20 yet with dark hair and brown eyes.

He wasn’t bad but stupid.

“Eugene. I meant nothing.” She told him, with a sigh.

He chuckled, “So why the hell are you here?”

“You were hoarding cars, jackass!”

“They’re mine, babygirl and I’mma use them.”

“Ha! You stole half of them and redesigned the older ones. Pumping up the gasoline and ordering NOS.”

“You need a 5-second car.”

“10 second car. And I was just looking over them, honest.”

Eugene scoff, “You’re not half bad, Ames. But you gotta know not to mess with me.”

“I’m not sure about that. Be lucky it wasn’t, Jesse or Nico. You had worse than us.” She added, knowing they would do something crazier than her.

“Don’t ever come around here again!”

“No promises!”

Eugene made a move to grab her but she elbowed him in the face. He spinner her around, pushing her against the wall but she kicked him where the sun don’t shine.

~~~~

Amelia made a run for it, still ending up with a bruise or two. Pulling out her mini pistol, just in case. She wasn’t the greatest at theses things but still she tried her best.

She walked down the street, popping up her jacket and started up her engine driving off.

But when she thought her night couldn’t get any odder or worse. The polices she raced from earlier found her.

Amelia was thrown into a cell, hearing the police report about her as the cops walked away. She tried to defend her case but they only have half listened.

They cleared her up for the self defense part but still pissed off about what she did.

It was no use per say.

Amelia’s face dropped. It wasn’t her first time running around from the cops and getting caught up in a mess and it sadly won’t be her last.

It was the trill of life. She sighed as tears came rolling in, mumbling how stupid she was. No career, no school, no actually friends and possibly no one to bail her out.

Disappointed.

She was a good girl or at least that’s what she wants to believe.

She always did schoolwork but never past a lot of classes cause no one took the chance on her. Actually help her understand it! She treated her family with respect, earned money during races to help pay the bills, worked low jobs and such.

But never got a chance to prove herself, they always tell her that she need experience and or worse, no one believed she had the true patience to get a job done.

Everything felt like a balancing act for her. Keep her head up, even when she wants to keep it down.

Playing up the act of the cool, confident, somewhat edgy and sweet girl. The wannabe bad bitch who gossips, talks shit about others and let’s the rumors fly in.

But she ain’t really that. Yeah sure, she got a temper, gets stressed out easily sometimes and has a thick glare that meant she got shit she wants to get done, but still.

She doesn’t know want she wants. No one ever does.

“Miss Parker?” Said a male voice, light but thick.

She turned to face the man, standing up wiping her tears to get a better look. To her surprise it was too men.

One younger and somewhat fresher faced than the other. They were wearing all black, comb hair expect for the younger one who’s hair was a little messy, wearing sensitive shoes and shared a gentle expression.

“W-who are you?” She asked, softly with hitched voice.

“Agent Coulson from SHIELD.” Said the man, “You’re having one hell of a day, huh?”

“Grant Ward.” Said the other one with a half smile, “You’re younger than expected.”

She blinked with tears trying to figure it out how this happened and asked, “Wh-what? I—how?…oh god.”

“I know it’s tricky to explain. But we’re here to help.” Coulson said, seeing the poor look in her eyes.

“Really? No offense, but where were you months ago?! I sent letters, applications for programs, video of myself for a visual idea of who I am…”

“I’m sorry we didn’t come soon but you were rejected for some of our supervisors believing you were not trying enough.”

“Hell, I saw that videos and it was a little dry. Besides, you sounded like it wasn’t serious enough..” Ward added.

“Your hilarious, Ward.” Amelia replied with a half sarcastic tone, “Sorry I wasn’t what you expected. I’m sorry that I was not perfect enough for you guys. Especially you.”

“Yet, you lack self esteem, confidence and the strength that is needed determination for something.”

“Determination?! You rejected me! You don’t take a chance on anyone.”

“But I’m not wrong. Have you seen your records? Jail time, street races for money, and stealing from second hand stores. Do your parents know about this?”

“…i um…not exactly everything…”

“Exactly. If you had any bit of respect for yourself and self care, you would deal with what you have. Look where you are now. I just see a pathetic picture of a young woman.”

“Okay look, I screwed up big time! I don’t have any track record for something good or anything…but i know I can do the same thing as you! I’m sorry for what happened..”

“Sorry?! You don’t know what you want or what exactly is your play here. ”

“Hey! I don’t—”

Coulson spoke up, “Enough! Ward, play nice, not everyone has their hands full time in the world as you. And Parker, I understand that you’re not sure where you stand. I apologize on SHIELD behavior, but I was given a chance to see your responses..”

“And? Coulson, you and Ward clearly just came to do what? Bail me out or something? I’m a idiot according to him and he’s right..” Amelia admitted, sadly.

“He’s wrong. You done some bad things because you don’t feel comfortable or worth other peoples time. Your smart, kind, seemed determined to race together even if you didn’t win—”

“You saw?!”

“I did. Or at least I scout here who used to work with me did. But Amelia you’re not an idiot, you just need someone who can give you a chance to try and do good. Because you are good.”

“Who told you that? I’m not smart enough to pass a few simple classes or good enough for you before. You guys didn’t give me a chance to prove that I’m good for something…”

“Because I wasn’t there before and I didn’t have agent Lance Hunter to tell me about you. Your not exactly school smart for certain things, but your street smart and clever with a lot of stuff. Your easygoing, sometimes honest and if I’m correct, you see a lot in someone.”

“I..um..”

“I’m being honest when I say your not bad. Never were, just chose to go do something that others think is wrong. I’ll like a give you a chance to come study and work together with SHIELD. You may be nervous and not feel ready for it now, but I believe you might be.”

Amelia stay speechless hearing Agent Coulson’s words and the recommendations he heard from Hunter. She didn’t know that part. The only person other than her stepdad and mother to speak like that to her.

Even Ward had to admit to himself he read the whole letters and applications, finding it actually charming. He didn’t know what Coulson saw in her but he kinda like it.

The only thing she could do was nod rapidly because of how tired she was and unable to comprehend what happened. It’s late. It’s 1:40am.

And she was just offered to be apart of something she didn’t expect to get after wishing and imaging the role.

Ward went to front desk to bail her out with a smile. Once she was let out of her cell, she thanked Ward as he apologized for his comments earlier. He told her that he’s welcome to help her with any needs

Then she turned to Coulson with tears in her eyes once again, thanking him. He smiled softly pulling her in a hug, knowing she needed it.

Phil held her in his arms, whispering kind words.

Honestly he felt bad, he didn’t catch onto her case earlier and made a decision to bend the SHIELD Academy rules.

He would need to speak with Fury and Hill but he knew there were plenty of people like her who needed a chance to be heard.

He remembered that Darcy Lewis had a daughter as well with a interesting case, he decided to possibly message Hill later about that. Plenty of cases of young folk who would be suitable for SHIELD or a Team in the future, but they need that push to do so.

Coulson smiled, walking out with Ward and Amelia in his thoughts. He wondered what if they were to recruit a set of young people one day, they definitely deserve a chance to be seen or heard.

Amelia snapped him out of his thought, “So um, when do we—I start my studies?”

Ward spoke up instead with a soft smile to her answers, “Soon. In about less than a month. You will have me and a few other people to help you along the way, Miss Parker.”

“You can all me Amelia.”

“Then you can me Grant.”

Both smile, exchanging phone numbers. Coulson told her a few more things before they brought her back to the hotel she was staying at.

~~~~~

Once Amelia said her final goodbye, she locked the door to her room behind her and let out a small sequel as she bit her bottom lip. To say when the realization finally hit her was an understatement. She felt scared, nervous and maybe a little excited.

She wondered what if no one likes me? What if it goes bad my first day? Oh my god what if i suck and they kick me out?!

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Anxiety still in the front of her mind, but laying low.

Her mind was overwhelmed by the thoughts, as she picked up her phone to thank her uncle Hunter for the placement.

Little did she know the next few months will change her life forever.

Meeting one of her best friends Melissa Wallace, get to know a couple of crushes such as Nikolai Morozov and a few other friends. Even encourage Melissa to go on a date with a special girl. As well as a future lifetime of opportunity and memories to come.

—-

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