#it's probably FILLED with lead and dead signal spots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

Text

𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉

________________________________

𝐵𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹: imagine-all-the-fandoms said:

Hey you 💕 I’m so in love with your imagines, you’re a great writer! I hope it’s okay to send smth in as well ☺️ a Bucky one for where you’re crushing each other and head to a mission together in the snowy mountains where you get trapped by a storm in a cute cabin. First he’s all shy around you but in the end it’s all cute as he makes a little fire and shares his clothes to keep you warm which also leads to cuddling and finally sharing a kiss and even some loving smut when you finally admit your feelings ?

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Smut, 18+, Fluff, friends to lovers, shy Bucky, fluff, did I mention fluff? Plant stuff? you’re kinda like that bitch from sky high lol

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒: this is too cute and I had so much writing this, i feel it radiates like huge cottage core energy but in the snow XD anyways hope you like it bug and thanks for the request!!

____________________________________________

You were walking from the greenhouse/garden room holding a small plant when you bumped into a much larger figure, accidentally dropping said plant.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” the voice said.

“It’s ok. I’m sorr-” you stopped.

The person was Bucky and under his big black boot was your little baby plant that you were taking to your room to nurse. You stared at him with a shocked and upset look on your face and Bucky stepped back to see the poor plant squished on the floor.

Wanda was a bystander and rushed over to help clean up. She used her powers and mended the plant pot back together but the poor bud was still wilted.

“Are you guys ok?” Wanda asked, handing you the pot with the wilted plant.

“You squished my plant,” you said monotonously.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, panicked.

You playfully shook your head in disappointment trying your hardest to burst into giggles. It was ok because it’s what you do. You did… plant stuff. You weren’t exactly sure what your abilities were but you did know that you worked with plants very well.

You looked down at the bud and softly blew. Sage green magic circled the plant and life went back into the little sprout. Bucky’s panicked expression softened as he watched you use your magic. The way you smiled when the plant came back to life. That proud smile you had on made him smile too.

“There. All better,” you looked back Bucky.

“All better,” he repeated with a smile.

“Hey, Y/n. Bucky,” Steve called you from down the hall.

“What’s up?”

“Fury needs you two in the conference room, says he’s got a mission for you two,” Steve walked away after he informed you both.

“Lead the way darling,” Bucky gestured his hand forward.

“Ah, you’re here. Why do you have a plant in your hand?”

“Bucky squished my flower under his boot,” you said.

“It was an accident,” Bucky mumbled.

“Moving on. I have a mission for you both in the alps. Some thugs are trading alien plant life so I need you,” he pointed to you, “to collect some samples for Tony and Bruce and Bucky will be there to protect you. If any plants die or get frozen you know what to do.”

You were plenty capable to handle yourself but you’ve never had to do so in the snow. You generally stuck to warmer and sunnier places when it came to missions. Bucky was pretty used to the snow so he knows to survive better in case you get stuck; but that won’t happen obviously.

“Wheels up in 30.”

You got to hide out and you were sort of struggling considering you had maybe seven layers of clothes on. You felt like a big puffy marshmallow waddling your way to the crime scene. The mission was somewhat successful, Bucky had really done all the work fighting and you just ran around tying up bad guys with vines and holding little seedlings in your pockets.

All was going until it didn’t. The wind picked up quickly and snow started thrashing around you and the others. You were fighting on the side of a hill, well Bucky was. You were still running around trying not to get shot. There was rumbling and the ground shook under you. You looked at Bucky who had taken down someone and his face held fear and concern.

“Run!” he yelled.

“Where!” you started running anyhow.

“Follow me, doll!”

You tried your best to run through heavy snow and with many many layers of clothes on you but it was becoming a struggle. Especially running against the wind made it a challenge on its own. Bucky was far ahead of you but thankfully turned back to grab your hand effectively dragging you alongside him running from the tumbling snow chasing after you.

“Think you get us above ground? Maybe a tree? Rock platforms?” Bucky shouted, still running with his arm up to prevent snow and ice from getting in his eyes.

“The snow’s too thick and the wind is too strong,” you shouted back.

“I’m sorry,” you shouted shakily.

Before Bucky could respond the snowfall did a hiccup before finally settling within feet of you and Bucky. You two were exhausted and if you had to run any further, you’d probably be consumed by snow because you barely had any energy left in you to keep running.

The wind was still harsh and the snow fell rapidly making it almost impossible to see even 5 feet in front of you.

“We should find shelter,” Bucky said close to your face. Your nose was nearly numb from the cold and the warmth from Bucky’s proximity made it almost feel like it was burning.

“I’m just following you,” you said with tired eyes.

After what felt like hours of walking you were practically dragging your feet and legs across the thick snow. The blankets of snow glistened beautiful and sparkled under the sun. despite the sun now being out the weather was still almost unbearably cold. Your body still shook from the chill.

“You know, I’ve never liked winter. It was always so plain and boring with all the snow. And it’s so fucking cold; I’d rather be laying in the sun in a meadow. But this,” you circled your arms and twirled, “This is beautiful.”

“You what’s even more beautiful?” Bucky held your hand.

“What?” you said shyly.

“That cabin up ahead,” he smirked, and you smacked his chest.

“Well then, come on. I’m still freezing my butt off, and surely the seedlings in my pocket are frozen too,” you started treading the snow, grunting every step.

You got inside after a few tugs because the lock was practically frozen shut. The cabin was seemingly abandoned, else the hosts would certainly be surprised. Nonetheless, Bucky searched the house for anything to give you warmth. You stood in the living room area of the cabin awaiting instructions from Bucky since he seemed to know what he was doing.

“Hey, doll. It looks like this place’s got two fireplaces. One here and in the master bedroom. Take your pick.”

“How long will be here?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve hardly got any signal to send an alert.”

“That means we’ll probably spend the night. We should use the bedroom.”

“You can use the bedroom. I set a fire in the fireplace there, and then I’ll set one up out here for me when you’re taken care of,” he said.

“I thought we were sharing the room,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. See you had this little, itty, bitty, tiny crush on the fellow. But how could you not? He was perfect! You certainly weren’t going to waste the opportunity to share a bed with the guy if you ‘had to’.

“Let’s get you taken care of,” he smiled softly.

You walked to the back room where the master bedroom was and it was beautiful. The bed was disassembled, the mattress was leaning to the side on the wall and the bed frame was taken apart. Bucky moved the bedframe to the side and flopped the mattress down to the floor.

“Let me check for any blankets in this place,” Bucky ran off.

You looked around and walked into the connected bathroom. To your absolute surprise there were small plants, unfortunately dead, and pots filled with dried out and chalky dirt. You could work with that.

You picked them up and took them to the bed. You sat on the mattress and placed the pots in front of you on the floor at your feet. You pulled out the frozen seedlings and plants and placed each one in their own pot.

That same sage green magic circled your hands and traveled to the pots where the dirt grew damp and the seedlings grew into buds. You smiled to yourself before looking up, eyes meeting Bucky’s who watched you with a grin on his face.

“It’s amazing what you do,” he said holding a bunch of blankets.

“It’s nothing.”

“No-” he was interrupted from the branches of the trees right outside the room baniging against the window hard.

“Oh no. storm’s picking up again,” Bucky mumbled.

“Are we gonna be ok?” you asked.

“”We’ll be fine. Now are you hurt?”

“Just cold,” you whispered.

“Ok if you feel uncomfortable let me know and I’ll leave you ok?” you nodded.

“I need you to take your layers off until you reach your thermal.”

You zipped down your snow jacket that was incredibly wet from all the snow from outside. Next was a layer of your snow pants after you took your snow boots off, which were also wet; both the pants and boots.

Bucky helped you with the rest of your layers under you simply wore a thermal and your undergarments underneath. Your body was shaking still and the fire still wasn’t on yet.

“Here are all the blankets I could find. Warm yourself up while I turn on the fireplace,” Bucky walked outside to gather some stumps of wood that were conveniently stacked next to the front door. He came back with a rock and banged it against his metal hand to create sparks which thankfully successfully lit the fire.

“Are you feeling ok?” he asked shyly.

“Sort of, but the fire’s going so I think I’ll feel better very soon,” you responded.

Bucky was about to leave you and make his own fire in the living room when you stopped him.

“Buck, you don’t have to leave,” you said.

“Thought I’d give you some privacy,” he responded.

“I don’t need privacy, besides the fire’s already made. Just stay here,” you scooted on the bed for him to sit.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Come sit,” you smiled and patted the spot next to you.

He sat with you very closely and you feel his body heat radiating off his body like a heater. He asked if it was ok if he got rid of wet clothes too and you let him. When he took his last layer off he accidentally lifted his thermal shirt with it exposing his lower stomach. The muscle of his abdominals surprised you and you couldn’t help but oogle.

Bucky’s cheeks grew red and not from the cold. You two sat in silence. Your body was still trembling slightly and bucky wanted to help you. He just didn’t know if you;d be comfortable with the particular survival tactic.

“I don’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable but body heat and skin to skin contact is the most effective way to warm the body.

“Bucky, are you making a move on me?” you giggled.

“Uh no- sorry I, uh I-”

“I’m just teasing,” you smiled.

“I want to help you,” he whispered.

“Ok.”

Bucky moved away slightly and reached for the bottom of your shirt hesitantly looking to you for permission of which you granted. Your arms came up and the thermal slowly peeled off of your cold body. You were simply left in a bra and your arms covered yourself in coldness and also slight insecurity.

Bucky also took his thermal off and tossed it to the side. Your eyes trained on his torso littered with little scars and bruises that made you want to reach out and hold him. He leaned back on the mattress and lifted his hips to remove his thermal pants and then looked back to you to make sure you were still ok.

You stood up and quickly discarded your pants as well as seeing Bucky turn his away from seeing you undress; which made your heart warm at his manners. When you were done you sat back down much closer to Bucky this time.

His arms wrapped around you and both your legs hitched over his thighs as you curled into him. His body was so hot, figuratively and literally. Your body instantly warmed up against his hardened muscles. You stayed this way while the fire burned and Bucky told you stories about him and Steve back in the 40s before everything happened.

There was a moment of silence that settled between you and you looked into Bucky’s eyes. His hand came up and softly brushed the air from your face. You leaned into hand and smiled faintly to him and he smiled back.

Bukcy leaned his forehead down to press against your and you could feel the tip of his equally cold nose on yours. You looked at each other waiting for the other to say something, anything.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you whispered.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered back.

“Please.”

Bucky lips attached to yours ever so gently. Your body practically melted against him, chills raising on your skin but not from the cold. His hands caressed the skin of your stomach and ribs and you moved straddled his thighs.

You felt growing wet from the way he held you tenderly against him. You started grinding yourself against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard pressing up against your core. Small moans and breathy sighs emitted from you and Bucky and his hands roamed to your ass.

Bucky’s lips went to neck and you threw your head back for him and threaded your fingers through his hair. Bucky nipped and bit down on the skin before soothing it over with his tongue and dragged it down to your collarbone.

You reached around and unclipped your bra and Bucky tossed over to the pile of clothes you had discarded beforehand. Bucky looked down at your chest for a second but averted his eyes to prevent you from being uncomfortable.

His hands however kneaded the flesh of your breasts; insanely warm against your skin.

“You’re so pretty, darling,” Bucky whispered in your ear making you shudder.

He flipped you over; the blanket fell to the side making your nipples harden from the chilly air. He stood up to remove his boxers and ran his hands up your legs sensually playing with the hem of your panties you still had on.

He looked at you with gentle eyes before you nodded eagerly for him to take them off. After he did he crawled up body before settling between your hips. His cock was settled against your pussy and it practically throbbed, aching for more.

He pumped his cock with his hand a few times leaning down to capture your lips with his. When he slid inside, you moaned loudly taking a hold of his shoulders with your hands. Bucky was huge! Nothing like any of your past lovers, not that you really many.

“Hold on, hold on. I just need a second,” you told Bucky.

He leaned down and pressed kisses all over your face; your hands cupping his face and jaw giggling. You looked into eyes once again and nodded letting him know that it was alright to move again.

Bucky was in absolute heaven right now.

Your walls felt so soft and velvety as he easily thrusted in and out of you. A thin layer of sweat formed on his forehead. His hand reached down your arm and he intertwined his fingers with yours resting by your head.

Bucky had been dreaming of this moment longer than he’d like to admit. He never considered himself to be a shy person; and definitely not jealous either. But when he met you, he always stuttered and stumbled over his feet and words barely getting a working sentence out of his mouth.

Whenever Steve or Sam spoke to you, and generally flirted a lot of the time, he envied them for being so relaxed around you. He’d wanted to ask you on a proper date and take you home to worship you like you deserve; wake up next to you and make love all over again. But he couldn’t say hi without turning bright red.

But here you were, a dream come true, squirming, whining and moaning beautifully under him.

“You are so gorgeous, baby. God, I can’t believe you're here,” Bucky kissed you.

“Oh, Bucky you feel so good,” you moaned.

“Fuck, baby you’re taking me so well,” he praised.

You both moaned feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s torso driving him deeper in making you practically scream in pleasure. Bucky’s hips snapped in and out of you wildly desperate for that release he knows is going to be the best he’s ever had.

When the coil in the pit of your stomach burst your back arched into Bucky and his face buried into your neck as he practically growled in pleasure.

“Fuck that was amazing,” he kissed your neck and chuckled.

“Why are you always so shy around me? We probably could’ve done this way sooner,” you patted his back.

“I, uh-”

“There you go stuttering again,” you giggled.

“I’m sorry. Y/n, I really like you and I have since I’ve met you. I don’t know why I feel so brain dead whenever I’m around you. I used to have no problem asking a pretty dame on a date, but when I met you, I couldn’t even say hi let alone ‘Hey wanna go on a date because I think you’re the most beautiful angel I’ve ever met in my goddamn life?’ It felt impossible,” Bucky sat up and sat you on his legs still wrapped in the blanket.

“Bucky, I- oh,” you gasped.

“What?” you pointed to the wooden floor of the cabin. There were small buds and patches of grass coming through the cracks of the floorboards. There were also vines and branches covering the walls coming from the floor as well.

“Oh! Did I do that?” you looked back at him and he nodded.

“Oopsies,” you giggled.

“What if we had sex in the garden?” Bucky asked.

“Oh my gosh, Bucky!” you laughed.

“What?” a smile grew on his face watching you laugh in pure delight.

“You’re so silly,” you shook your head before yawning.

“Come on, doll. Let’s go sleep and we’ll see what’s gonna happen after the storm passes,” Bucky kissed you goodnight and you fell asleep comfortably in his arms.

___________________________________________

@mathletemadison

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ:

ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍᴀɴᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ᴍᴇ! ;)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #marvel smut

285 notes · View notes

restapesta · 3 years

Text

Fucking Milkovich

words: 5.5k

Five times Ian pulled Mickey away from starting a fight and the one time the roles were reversed.

1. THE STORE

The old lady had been side-eyeing them since they accidentally bumped into her at the wine aisle, Mickey backing into her as he and Ian led a loud, heated discussion about whether or not the Rose that was in Ian's hand was the same one from the gay party they had attended a couple of days before.

Ian was dead set on saying that it was the same bottle of pink wine and that even if it wasn't, it probably tasted the same, all the while Mickey was dead set on proving to Ian that the bottle was most certainly not the same one and that they should crack it open and try it even if they were still in the middle of the supermarket. They were bickering back and forth, not paying much attention to their surroundings, and Mick had backed away from the rack of wines, unceremoniously colliding with the gray-haired lady who was pushing a cart filled to the brim with groceries. It was a miracle the items hadn't toppled out, considering there was a mountain of them. Ian wondered how steadily the lady must've been pushing the cart, and how close his husband had come from knocking it all down.

Mickey had muttered a quick sorry and Ian had shot the lady an apologetic look when she just stared at Mickey and the tattoos that covered his hands and arm, blatantly revealed by his short-sleeved t-shirt. Ian had told him he looked hot in it that morning, so Mickey had kept the jacket off, appeasing his husband's gaze. He felt a bit cold but Ian's eyes following unapologetically as his arms flexed made it all worth it.

Ian gestured for Mickey to leave the aisle with his eyes, accompanied by a sharp tilt of his head -- and they continued their way to the other racks of food and drinks, Ian placing the bottle of wine in their own basket. They weren't there for a full-on grocery run. They were in Costco purely because their snacks and beer needed stocking up, and they needed some shit for the mac-and-cheese Mickey had been craving. Ian had lost a bet while they were at work today so he promised to make him some -- a deed Mickey was quite happy about.

They bumped into the lady once more at the cash register. There were some people six feet in front of them (considering they kept their distance), unloading their stuff, and the woman was mere inches behind them, as if she was waiting in line with the couple, not behind them, pressed close. Mickey shot her a glance and when he noticed her scowl, he gave her a slight smile that Ian knew was obviously not a smile, but rather a 'hello lady I crashed into, why are you standing so close, back away from me and my tall ginger before I tell you to back the fuck away' threat. He had a feeling the lady caught on to what Ian did, but chose not to comply, considering how her scowl deepened and how she seemed to press impossibly closer.

Mickey and Ian shared a look but kept their mouths shut, preparing to unload their shit onto the moving thingy -- but then the old bat spoke.

"Least you could do is let me cut the line." She was looking straight at Mickey, and to Ian, judging by the look on his husband's face, it seemed as if he was considering it. But when his gaze swept over the pile in her cart -- the one almost spilling over -- he simply shrugged, "No. I couldn't."

Mickey kept unloading the few items they did have, and Ian followed his lead, but the lady was persistent. "You are very unkind."

Mickey simply muttered an 'uh-uh' as he grabbed the money out of his jacket.

"You should be ashamed."

Mickey rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb and Ian knew that signaled danger, so he pushed him lightly with his shoulder, gesturing for him to pay. Mickey obliged begrudgingly, choosing to ignore the bitch. The cashier was just finishing placing their shit into the plastic bag, handing it to Ian, also handing Mickey back the change. They were going to leave the place unscathed.

Too bad the bitch couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"You should put a leash on him."

Before Mickey had a chance to jump her and gauge her eyes out, Ian wrapped his hands around his torso and pushed him towards the door of the store, whispering 'calm the fuck down' to him curtly, the grocery bag in his hand making it harder to sustain his husband. It wasn't the first time he had done this, and he doubted it would be the last. It was somewhat of a struggle but Ian managed. He also tried to ignore the look of pure horror on the grandma's face.

When he was finally able to get Mickey through the door -- while the guy spewed graphic insults at the hag -- he let go, making sure to keep him a safe distance away from the store.

"What the fuck is it with old bitches being so fucking rude?" Mickey muttered loudly, grabbing the bag out of Ian's hand and pulling out the Rose. He opened the bottle easily and took a long gulp, emptying a third of the bottle with it. His face scrunched up immediately. "I fucking told you it wasn't the same one!"

Ian just shook his head.

Fucking Milkovich.

2. THE JOB

The day had been pretty slow. They had their regular cash pick-ups and deliveries, and they had finished most of them, considering how the day was nearing its end. Both Ian and Mickey were ready to get back home and crash on the couch, maybe down a beer or two, and especially take off the uniforms that had truly made them sweat today. Spring was coming, and fuck if Ian wasn't ready for the onslaught of discomfort the camo brought on with it. Mickey didn't look like he minded it much, but Mickey was Mickey, so it wasn't a surprise. Ian, on the other hand, was already considering alternatives.

They were delivering their last bags of weed, taking a long ass drive to fucking HerbalCare, knowing it would take them a while to get back home too -- but the Northsiders that owned the place were kind of their regulars, so they were used to it.

Both Ian and Mickey expected the usual chick to show up and pick up the marijuana when they eventually got to the place -- the one with the curly red hair and a sassy attitude -- but instead, an unknown guy did with a large-ass man following shortly behind.

The first guy looked like any other -- casual clothing, friendly face, easy demeanor -- unlike -- what Ian supposed was -- his bodyguard. He looked like a capo with his broad shoulders, tight black shirt, tattoos littering his body, head cleanly shaved. Ian glanced reluctantly at his own thug, mentally praying Mickey had a bullet that could take down the motherfuckers in front of them if necessary.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The normal-looking one spoke.

Mickey nodded, also slightly taken aback, but not letting it show. "We have a delivery for HerbalCare." He glanced at Ian. "For Dina? Wasn't it?"

Ian nodded slowly, assessing the situation.

"I'll take it from here." The guy responded, eyeing Mickey up and down. "Dina is currently busy at the moment." Mickey didn't seem too happy with the asshat's statement. Ian wasn't either, naturally. The man had an odd vibe to him -- he seemed on edge despite his cool facade, and Ian saw straight through it. He glanced at Mickey who seemed to have been noticing the same thing. They were not handing shit over to these assholes. There's a certain trust you had to earn before claiming a couple of thousand dollars worth of weed from Gallavich Security.

"How 'bout I just speak to Dina, yeah?" Mickey's voice was calm and eery -- he was in boss mode. The mode that even scared Ian, sometimes. It was dangerous territory these guys were treading on if Mickey had resorted to going into the mode only slightly less scary than Milkovich thug mode.

The dude, still nameless, smiled without humor. "Why don't you just give me the weed, huh?"

Mickey pulled out his gun swiftly, pointing it straight at the guy's head. The shock on his face only lasted for a moment before it turned into a smirk. The capo next to him pulled out his own, only slightly smaller than Mickey's, pointing it at Mickey's head.

Well, shit.

Ian pulled out the gun from his waistband, feeling slightly worried for his and his husband's safety, pointing it at the tall-ass man. It was like a scene from a movie. A poor, shitty-quality one.

"How about we all just put down our guns and we'll come back when Dina gets here?" Ian's voice was smooth and the silence hung lowly over them for a couple of moments. Ian was never a gun sort of guy, but rather a talk-it-out one.

They eventually all put down their guns, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay, then. Guess we'll be seeing you." The guy muttered as he turned his back to Ian and Mickey, capo following behind, shooting them a glare. Their movements were slow and deliberate, but eventually, when they were a safe distance away, the capo turned around and shot them the middle finger.

Ian was just barely in time to stop Mickey before he leaped out to kill the motherfucker.

He wrapped his arms around him like a boa constrictor, attempting to stop him from committing homicide. As always, it took a while.

Mickey growled after a minute or two, finally calming down, glaring at the spot the asshole thieves were a few moments before. "Oh, you fucking will be seeing me. You'll be seeing me in your nightmares, you motherfuckers."

Ian barely contained himself from rolling his eyes.

Fucking Milkovich.

3. THE ALIBI

Ian had been nursing a beer for the past hour while his worse half had already downed three. Mickey was on his fourth glass of Budweiser, slightly tipsy, but not quite drunk just yet as he and Ian enjoyed their night out, something one might even call a date (correction: something only Ian would call a date).

They had gone out for chicken wings, played some pool after dinner -- even took a fucking stroll out -- and now, they were chilling at the Alibi Room, enjoying each other's companies, talking about anything and everything, laughing at Kevin's jokes and making fun of Kermit and Tommy, the regular drunks of the Southside.

It was a slow day today, their job weighing a little extra heavy on their shoulders, but the night was swift, in contrast. In fact, they were having a really good time, letting go of all of the fucked-up things happening in their lives right now, the burden coming off of their shoulders, even for a little while. And Ian was especially looking forward to the sex that was bound to follow when they got back home. Hell, if Mickey continues drinking the beers at this pace, maybe even in the bathroom -- it truly only depended on the level of horniness the drunken state would illicit.

They were still enjoying their alcohol and horniness when Kermit had decided to remind everyone of a comment. Ian guessed it wasn't supposed to be that big of a deal. Both Ian and Mickey had dealt with far worse from people far shittier than Tommy and Kermit. But the comment -- the one about how Tommy was against their wedding, saying it was a man-woman thing -- didn't really sit well with either of them. Ian had no idea how the topic even came up, and the whole 'kind of drunk and talk-y' Mickey wasn't helping the case, but the words most certainly had an undesired effect on the couple.

Mickey had stilled immediately.

It wasn't that big of a deal. Homophobes were all around them, and they knew that Tommy was as gay and as homophobic as any of them, and Mickey would probably ignore the comment had he not been this content with the night he was having.

Here he was with Ian, having a great time, enjoying his life, his marriage, and over-all his husband, and this asshole was going to ruin it with this comment. This stupid, meaningless comment.

Neither Ian nor Mickey lived in a fantasy -- the one where everyone was supportive of the gays and where love was simply love, no matter if it was between a male and a female, or a male and a male -- but sometimes, they forgot what world they actually lived in and in those moments they were at their most vulnerable to these sort of remarks. They cut them deep, Mickey especially.

He was so happy with Ian, so happy with his marriage, the life they shared, that the outside world rarely even mattered. But when he heard someone saying how they shouldn't have gotten married -- shouldn't have been enjoying their love and relationship, shouldn't be where they are now -- Mickey got pissed.

"Oh yeah, Tommy? Man-woman thing?" Mickey's voice was unnervingly steady.

Kevin eyed Kermit, silently conveying the question, "why the fuck would you say that". Kermit shrugged but Mickey only had eyes for dear old Tom. He was watching him like prey.

Tommy gulped, not as afraid of Mickey as he used to be, but definitely not one-hundred percent safe around him either. Everybody knew Mickey protected himself and his family -- Ian and the Gallaghers -- only. Everyone else could just go fuck themselves. Tommy fell into the latter group.

"That's just the way I've been taught. Y'all are good, enjoy your marriage." He attempted to climb out of the hole he had dug for himself but it wasn't really working. The asshole had made it too deep and had fallen into it headfirst.

"Oh, I'm so fucking happy I have your approval." Mickey bit back.

"Oh, no," Ian muttered lowly. "Mick."

"You should be happy I don't have a gun on me now. Now, while I'm on a date with my husband." He annunciated the words slowly, making sure Tommy understood and heard them very well and remembered them for good. Ian's heart fluttered at the mention of the word date, but he reeled it back in for now. He could enjoy it later when Mickey wasn't on the verge of murdering someone.

"Hey man, how 'bout you just calm down?"

Tommy really wanted to die today.

Ian was pushing Mickey out of the bar before he strangled the man with his bare hands. Mickey cursed as they were leaving, resisting his husband as he attempted to drag him out. Ian barely got them through the door, and when he did, Mickey tried hard to go back in.

Ian hissed at him to stop. Eventually, Mickey did.

"I see him one more time, I'm killing him, understood?" Mickey was baring his teeth at the bar as if Tommy could see him. "Him and his counterpart."

Ian closed his eyes briefly.

Fucking Milkovich.

4. THE BLEACHERS

It had always been their spot. From the beginning, it was a place for Ian and Mickey to run away to, not just to hook up, but to escape their lives and the turmoils of their families, each fucked up in its own fucked up way. It was easy for them to just disappear for a while, fucking against the fence, shot-gunning beer with no one to reprimand them for when they left the cans on the stadium, the world completely oblivious that it was the odd duo. Not just Mickey Milkovich, the infamous Southside thug, and not just Ian Gallagher, the skinny army ginger -- but both Ian and Mickey, a pairing no one saw coming, not from a million light-years away.

It was easier back then, sure, but now, it was better. They used to just fuck underneath the bleachers, making it nothing more than a hook-up spot, barely touching after sex, drinking beer like just a couple of friends, not like they were in between rounds, Ian aching for more, Mickey denying him access to it. Ian knew Mickey wouldn't even admit they were friends back then.

But then again, it was different then than it was now.

Now the bleachers were their spot. Not just a fuck spot like it used to be. No -- it was a hangout spot. They didn't have their own place yet -- that was still a work in progress -- and when the Gallagher house became too loud and too messy for them to just enjoy their night, outside of the confines of their room, they went to the bleachers.

It wasn't a regular occurrence, more like a once-a-month sort of thing, but it still felt great and rejuvenating -- it felt like them. A space in the dark where they could just talk and drink and mess around and make out in, unapologetically relieved of the burden on their shoulders, whatever it may be.

Tonight was a night like that, a night where all they wanted and needed to do was escape -- Terry's death was still weighing heavy on Mickey's soul, for reasons Mickey and Ian both had yet to uncover, and the house was brimming with too many Gallaghers with too many opinions and observations. They needed a break.

The spot under the bleachers was supposed to be reserved for them as always, and they had brought along a six-pack of beer as well, deciding to just get drunk, even if they still had to get to work the next morning. It would be a good ending to a shitty week.

But the asshole kids sitting at their spot weren't gonna let that play out.

Ian and Mickey were aware that they were grown-ass men, but it was ten pm and these children had no right to even be near the bleachers let alone smoking and drinking underneath them. They were far from teens and they reminded Ian of himself and Lip when they were mere eleven-year-olds trying to figure the messed-up world out.

Mickey didn't really see it that way. He was clearly just annoyed.

"Beat it." He said in a curt voice, flicking his wrist to point to the imaginary exit. Ian followed suit reluctantly, only after trying to convince Mickey to just let them have at it and go to the dugouts instead.

"No Ian, we came here because this is our spot and these little fuckers need to go." Mickey had responded.

Ian was aware his husband had issues.

He was used to it.

The kids laughed, the three voices laughing merging, sounding more like a pack of hyenas. "Watcha' gonna do about it, grandpa?"

Mickey had a very shitty couple of days.

Mickey was not a well-tempered person.

Mickey was on the verge of killing something.

These kids were the catalyst.

When Mickey took a swift step towards them, Ian was once again -- how many times was it, now? -- holding him back. The kids scattered around, scared shitless of the thug. They were gone in the blink of an eye.

Ian felt sorry for them, but he was happy that, at least, Mickey didn't dump their tiny bodies in the river. Not that Mickey would've actually done that.

Ian hoped.

"I was one second from threatening to eat them for lunch," Mickey grumbled. He then pointed at the free spot. "At least they're gone. Gimme that beer, I wanna have some good drunk sex."

He made a gesture with his fingers and smiled as if nothing had happened. Wasn't Ian supposed to be the crazy one?

Fucking Milkovich.

5. THE GALLAGHER HOUSE

Debbie Gallagher was extremely annoying nine times out of ten. Ian Gallagher knew it. Mickey Milkovich knew. The entire Gallagher clan knew it. But today, she seemed especially bitchy.

It was a Friday night -- usually reserved for a good home-cooked meal, chilling on the couch, watching TV, and just having a family night altogether. Even Lip and Tami were in the house on Fridays, bringing Fred along to play with Franny and Liam (who would more-so look after them than play with them).

That's how the nights usually went.

But tonight, Debbie the Brat had every intention of fucking it up.

She sauntered into the house, bitchiness oozing from her pores, head held high even though it should have been bowed down in shame. She was drunk off her rocks, and she was dragging Franny along with her.

"Hi, assholes." She greeted the family in the kitchen, letting go of Franny's hand, pulling her sunglasses off to reveal blood-shot eyes. God knows where the hell she had been today. All Ian knew was that she left the house sober with Franny and was now completely drunk, if not high, the little girl still trailing behind.

"Wash your hands, Fran," Liam instructed, eyeing Debbie up and down. She seemed even more fucked up than usual in his eyes.

She plopped herself down on the closest free chair which happened to be across Mickey. It was quiet for a few moments, everyone waiting for something to happen. Debbie was an unpredictable drunk, something they were only lately discovering.

It seemed like Debbie had woken up today and chosen violence.

She looked straight into Mickey's eyes. "Your cousin is a cunt."

Mickey raised an eyebrow while the other Gallaghers observing the exchange. Ian was sat next to him. He put his utensils down, not sure how this exchange was going to unravel, also pulling Mickey's knife out of reach, in a way he hoped was inconspicuous.

Just in case.

"She is a self-absorbed cunt who has no business in this house anymore." Deborah continued as if someone gave a shit. Mickey especially.

He shrugged. "Last I'd seen her was the morning after you guys broke up. I couldn't give less of a shit about whether or not she's with you or not with you. For fuck's sake, the break-up happened a long-ass time ago, get over it." Mickey looked down at his plate, continuing to eat his dinner, clearly signifying the conversation was over. He glanced at Ian when he couldn't find his knife.

Instead of moving on, Debbie grabbed a loaf of bread and threw it at him.

Mickey stilled.

Carl elbowed her hard but she paid no attention to the warning. She was having a staring contest with Mickey Milkovich. One she would eventually lose.

"Back the fuck off, Debbie," Ian warned himself.

She switched her gaze from Mickey to Ian. Her gaze was murderous. "Or what, Ian? You'll try and kill me with a bat?"

Collective silence fell over the table. Noone seemed to be breathing. All eyes switched to Ian, gauging his reaction, not believing the words that had left Debbie's mouth, but even warier of the ones that were bound to leave Ian's.

Ian had other things occupying his mind, though, and one of those things was his husband who was probably a second away from killing his sister-in-law.

"You bitch." Ian held Mickey down by his shoulders as he attempted to climb over the table and tackle her to the floor. "You and your condescending cunt can fuck off."

"Mickey. Come on." Ian pushed him out of the chair and shoved him lightly, indicating for him to go upstairs.

"No, Ian. She needs to be set fucking straight, or else you'll have a new Frank on your hands. This bitch." He fought against him as Debbie just sat still.

"Mickey." Ian shoved him towards the stairs, afraid he would have to explain to the cops how his husband murdered his sister if Mickey didn't leave the room, immediately. Mickey noticed Ian's serious expression, and slowly climbed up, all the while muttering to Debbie to go fuck herself.

Ian glanced at Debbie from where he stood.

"What?" She asked, innocently.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Debbie snorted. "Sorry if I hurt your feelings. Not like it wasn't true."

"I couldn't give less of a shit whether or not you think I'm crazy. You come in here and talk to Mickey like that again, I will be using a bat. Only then you'll see how crazy I can get." Ian was dead serious.

It was the first time since she came in that her eyes truly widened in fear.

He backed away upstairs slowly.

The rest of the Gallaghers were silent for a moment before they all collectively shot Debbie a dirty look, soon erupting in chatter, as if nothing had happened.

It had been merely a few seconds before Ian had entered their room, when Mickey finally started his rant, talking shit about Debbie, defending Ian being at the core of it all.

He had a lot to say, and Ian was going to listen to it all, like the supportive husband he was, always taking Mick's side.

As he listened to Mickey rant about Debbie, he thought about what he had said to her. It was true -- every single word that had left his mouth. He hoped she and the rest of them -- no matter who it was -- understood.

Mickey was more important to him than anyone else in this world, even his sister. He was Ian's family, his next of kin, the one Ian trusted and loved the most. When push comes to shove, he will chose him, no matter what. He will always choose his husband, the love of his life, his worse half.

God, he was soft.

Fucking Milkovich.

+1 THE STORE, THE JOB, THE ALIBI, THE BLEACHERS, THE GALLAGHERS

"You really keep me from killing people, man. Feel like I should thank you."

Mickey had muttered that lowly in the dark, his head resting on Ian's chest, both of them naked, enjoying their post-sex bliss. It was then when they were at their most open, letting out emotions and feelings that usually didn't seep into the mundane day.

Ian ran his fingers along Mickey's bare back, enjoying how Mickey shivered against them. "You do the same thing." He answered simply.

Mickey raised his head slightly to look at his husband. "No, I don't. I've never had to physically pull you away from stabbing or strangling someone."

"You do realize I usually get as pissed off as you do at these things."

"These things?"

Ian rolled his eyes in the dark. "C'mon Mick. You really think I'm okay with an old lady calling you rude and ignorant and judging you like you're nothing but a street rat. Or some assholes flipping us off after trying to steal our weed?" He adjusted his arm so it rested over Mickey's shoulder, Mickey's cheek pressed into his peck. "You think I don't get mad when Tommy talks about how we shouldn't have gotten married because we're men? Or how Debbie had the audacity to talk to you like that, in front of me."

"You never react to it, though. That's why I don't pull you away from starting shit. You kind of just stay calm." Mickey responded to Ian's short monologue.

Ian chuckled. "Mick. If I wasn't so busy pulling you away, I'd probably be the one murdering them all."

This time Mickey raised his head to fully look at Ian. They adjusted their positions so it was easier to keep each other's gaze.

"I'm serious," Ian responded to Mickey's expression of disbelief.

Ian was completely and utterly serious. That shit happened a lot.

In fact, had Ian not been so busy pushing Mickey out of the store, the plastic bag filled with shit they needed for dinner and the expensive -- but probably not correct -- Rosè in one of his hands, making sure his husband didn't go to prison for stabbing the geriatric bitch, he would have gotten really fucking pissed and probably have gone off at the grandma himself.

If Mickey didn't attempt to go after the fucking thieves, like the sociopath he was, Ian would've probably pulled out his gun and pointed it at the men's fucking back. Maybe he would've even tried emptying the clip.

Mickey trying to strangle Tommy was good enough of a distraction for Ian not to beat the asshole up himself. How fucking dare he talk about marriage like that, the drunk bitch. Ian would've been a second away from hurling himself at Tommy and beating the shit out of him -- but fuck it if Ian was gonna let Mickey get arrested for aggravated assault and risk his parole.

The kids at the bleachers didn't bother him. He knew Mickey had a soft spot for kids himself, so it was more of a hissy fit than a homicidal fit.

Debbie was the one that truly made his blood boil.

"You know," Ian began. "I would've probably signed a death warrant on Debbie and mine's relationship that night if you weren't there."

"How so?" Mickey was caressing Ian's cheek with his thumb, giving him the biggest case of heart-eyes. Ian didn't doubt that was how he was looking at Mickey himself.

"When she was saying that shit, all I could think of was making sure you didn't kill her. I barely registered what the fuck she was saying. I was trying to keep you from flipping the table and making Franny an orphan." Mickey rolled his eyes but kept silent. He knew there was truth in Ian's words. "But, if you weren't there. If Debbie had just started talking about me and the whole bipolar thing and I didn't have you to keep me from actually letting the words sink in..." He drifted off, not knowing how he would've reacted. The words would have probably cut him deep.

Shifting closer, Mickey pressed his palm against Ian's cheek. "Do we need to talk about how you should under no circumstance listen to your bitch of a sister? What happened all those years ago happened while you were manic and off your meds. Her using that as a comeback in an argument is low and a fucking betrayal. Right now, you are the healthiest you've been since your diagnosis and you shouldn't let her get in your head. Hell, if I have to, I'll fucking try and murder anyone to stop the words from -- what did you say -- sinking in?" Ian laughed wetly, feeling himself get emotional over Mickey's little speech.

"You're amazing, Ian." He finished. "I'm proud of you."

Ian pulled Mickey's body close, making their naked bodies press flush against each other. Their noses touched as Ian took a moment to appreciate what the universe had given him. The soft lines of Mickey's face, the blemishes, and the tiny scars -- the eyebrows Ian had joked were iconic to him -- everything that made Mickey Milkovich his Mickey.

A kid forged in hate and homophobia, morphed by the Southside into a short-tempered thug, capable of murder in the blink of an eye if you so much as looked at him wrong. A Milkovich taught to care for nobody but family, to stay loyal to them and never snitch, but also taught to put a bullet in their fucking heads if betrayed. A hard-ass and a thief, ready to shamelessly steal from any store of his choosing, barely giving a shit whether it lands him in juvie or not.

A man capable of so much love. A man who took care of Ian when he was at his worst, made sure to keep him safe and protected. The man who came out for him in front of his worst nightmare, all so he could keep Ian, even if he was nothing but a mess kept together by unawareness. A man capable of murder for Ian. A man capable of running away with Ian. A man capable of going back to prison for Ian. A man who loved Ian, and would always try to keep him safe.

"You done staring?" Mickey smirked at him.

Ian smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think I'll ever be." He then added, quietly, "I'm so lucky."

Mickey nodded, his lips mere inches away from Ian's. "I am too."

Soft lips moved against each other slowly, creating a rhythm Ian never wanted to lose.

He knew he never would.

His life, even after all the worst possible shit a person could imagine, was pretty fucking great. All thanks to Mickey.

His husband.

His partner.

His soulmate.

His worse half.

His Milkovich.

THE END

#gallavich #shameless #shameless us #shameless final season #fanfic #Ian Gallagher #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ianxmickey #mickey milkovich #gallaghers #5+1 fic #5+1 things #canon compliant

123 notes · View notes

karlajoyner · 3 years

Text

Worst Enemy (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/n: Sorry this took so long! I just wasn't sure how I wanted to go about this request since I haven’t read that much smut lately to be fully inspired. I read a lot of 5 seconds of summer smut to say the least. Calum Hood smut to be exact and my fingers couldn’t stop typing after that.😂 But I hope you guys like it! Please let me know if you do! Don't read it if you just want a normal imagine. Some normal ones coming soon. Also I have an upcoming announcement after I hit 150 followers!

Requested by: irwindshield (Wattpad)

Warnings: Super Smutty (18+)

————

"And action!" Kenny shouted.

I scowled at the boy in front of me who looked just as mad as I was.

"Seriously Luke your gonna tell me that you and Julie don't have anything going on"

"Y/c/n I already told you we don't! Isn't that enough?!" Charlie spoke standing up from his seat on the couch.

"No it's not. Not when you spent all weekend writing love songs together"

"It was one song and it wasn't about each other"

"One song still means something"

"Why does it even matter to you I'm single now? Isn't that what you wanted? To be free well now you're free to be with whoever you want or did you forget what happened with Reggie?"

"Nothing happened with Reggie. We were joking around. It's not my fault your jealous!" I shouted in frustration.

"Look who's talking" He said getting up in my face. Both our chests heaving in anger as we stared at each other angrily.

"You know what Patterson even when we're both dead I still regret ever falling in love with you all those years ago" I spoke through gritted teeth. I turned around dramatically to walk away, only to have Charlie grab me by the wrist and spin me around. Our faces now inches apart.

In aggravation he crash his lips onto mine shoving his tongue into my mouth. I huffed wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. We both fought for dominance as his hands found their way around my waist lifting me up in the air.

I got so caught up in the heated make out session I almost didn't hear Kenny yell for the end of the scene.

"Cut!" He shouted Charlie immediately letting me go. I scoffed pushing myself away from him to see his hair disheveled, his lips plump, and smeared with my red lipstick. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I wanted to finish what we started now. But I couldn't do that when the insanely hot actor I wanted to push me up against the wall also happened to be my worst enemy.

"That was great guys!" Kenny said walking towards us.

"We might reshoot tomorrow if we have time since this is a kids show and that was a little too not kid friendly. Maybe hold back on the tongue"

"You got it Kenny"

"It's already late enough thank you two for staying back tonight we really had to get this in. Have a good night!"

"It was no problem. See you tomorrow" I smiled at our director as he walked away. I turned back to the boy beside me glaring at him.

"Well that was shitty. He's right you use way too much tongue. It was like Niagara Falls" I spoke using hand gestures. I watched the brunette roll his eyes in annoyance making me grin. Turning back around I began to walk back towards my trailer deciding to just turn in my costume tomorrow. Like I had done so many times after shooting until the am.

"You know I've had plenty of people who think my kissing is amazing" Charlie spoke walking a few feet away from me seeing as his trailer was right beside mine. Unfortunate perks of playing love interest who broke up in the show.

"I hate to break it to you Charles but they lied"

"Shut up. I'm done with your shit for the day"

"You know if there's one thing I hate more than having to shoot a scene so late it's having to shoot it with you Gillespie"

"Yeah well it's no fun for me either. I mean having to make out with a fucking jerk and act like I'm in love with her. Isn't exactly the highlight of my year!" He whispered shouted making sure no one heard us. It was late and the very few people who stayed in their trailers were probably dead asleep due to how long filming went on today.

"Not for me either! Why do you hate me so much? I swear I tried to be fucking nice to you when we met"

"Please you were anything but nice" He argued making me facepalm.

"You fucking liar! I introduced myself. I stuck my hand out for you to shake and you completely denied it. If anything you're the prick and the asshole!" I shouted reaching the outskirts of my trailer.

Suddenly I felt my body collide with the cold vehicle behind me and a cold hand landing on my mouth. My eyes widened looking up at the man in front of me who's chest was heaving.

"You wanna say that to my face y/l/n" He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Look we both promised that we'd keep this little feud between us a secret for the sake of the show and our cast mates. So if you don't shut that big mouth of yours we might just get caught" He whispered making me roll my eyes.

Finally coming back to my senses I removed his hand from my mouth, looking him straight in the eyes.

"You fucking prick" I repeated myself seeing what he would say next. But he didn't say anything. Not a word.

I watched his face closely as his eyes flickered to my lips. He slowly leaned forward hesitant on his actions. Rolling my eyes I took initiative, smashing my lips onto his. I let out a breath as he lifted my leg up to pull me closer. Nearly letting a moan escape as I felt his hard on press against the front of my jeans.

"Can't even fucking make the first move. How fucking dry your sex life must be" I panted teasingly as we pulled away.

"Shut the fuck up" He whispered pressing his lips to mine once more with such a force. I immediately kissed back realization hitting me. We were in the middle of a parking lot filled with trailers.

I pushed him away taking his hand leading him to my trailer that wasn't too far. He complied following closely behind. Pressing his body into mine as I unlocked the door as quick as possible. I stepped into the trailer switching on the dim light. I bit my lip turning around to finally face Charlie who stood there with his beautiful blue eyes darkened with lust.

"Are we really gonna do this?" I asked leaning on the counter in the small kitchen area.

"I don't know. I-I mean we don't have to if you don't want to. We could just leave it here if that's w-what you want"

"Well what do you want?" I asked raising an eyebrow. I watched as his body shifted uncomfortably as I removed the jean jacket on my body leaving me in a silky satin cami.

"I really wanna fuck you" He responded biting his lip. My stomach filling with butterflies getting the response I was hoping for.

"Then do it" I stated watching as he made his way towards me. Crashing his lips onto mine. I let out a huff as he lifted me off the ground and pushed me onto the counter roughly. My back hitting the wood behind me forcefully.

"Seriously?" I panted pulled away from the kiss first.

"Sorry" He muttered sheepishly before diving into my neck. Finding a spot to suck on. I craned my neck allowing him more access not even caring that I'd have to deal with the makeup team tomorrow.

Before giving it a second thought I pulled off my top tossing it across the room leaving me in a teal Lacey bra. The same color of the cami I was wearing.

"Holy fuck" Charlie whispered most blankly admiring the view. I let out a giggle tugging at his shirt as well signaling I wanted it off. He quickly got the message.

It was my turn to drool seeing his tightly toned abs turning me on even more than I already was. I was knocked out of my trance by Charlie kissing me passionately once more. My eyes fluttering shut, pulling the hairs on his neck. Our tongues now fighting for dominance.

His hands moved away from my waist to my back. Unhooking my bra from my body. We shifted slightly, the material being flung across the room. Within seconds his hands roamed my body freely once more. A groan escaping my mouth as his lips moved down my neck.

Until eventually settling on my nipple. My core was now throbbing in anticipation of his next moves.

I bit my lip trying to keep quiet but at the rate his hands were moving it was nearly impossible. I watched as he moved down my body. Undoing my jeans quickly.

I whimpered as Charlie spread my legs apart. Toying with the thin fabric of the panties I was wearing. Feeling myself getting wetter by the second I grasped onto his hair. "Fuck Charlie please" I whined as he began to place kisses up my thighs. Each one a little longer than the last.

"Please what?"

"Don't make me fucking ask again Gillespie. I don't beg" I spoke pulling him harder from his hair. Forcing him to look up at me.

He growled at my actions ripping apart the fabric and tossing it off to the side.

My back arched feeling his slender fingers enter me. A loud moan escaping my lips as he skillfully pumped his fingers in and out of my entrance.

I bit my lip tightly opening my legs wider to give him better access. Only to feel the feeling of pleasure leave my body.

"What the fu-" My words were cut off by Charlie grabbing me by the thighs. Pulling me closer to the edge of the counter.

"Holy shit" I moaned as he dipped his head between my legs to attach himself to my now sensitive cunt. Sucking on it harshly with no hesitation. His tongue moved around so effortlessly. I threw my head back as my fingers entangled into his hair wanting to feel him now more than ever.

"So fucking good" He groaned pulling away to add two fingers. Doubling the satisfaction. My lips parting to slightly as my eyes screwed shut.

"Charlie I'm s-so close" I muttered feeling his fingers spread up. Within seconds he sent me over the edge. Pleasure coursing through my body. I panted loudly attempting to steady my breathing. Watching as Charlie stood up. Lifting his glistening fingers up to his lips sucking off every last drop of cum that coated them. I let out another moan at the sight feeing myself getting turned on again.

"You okay?" He asked raising an eyebrow at me. I giggled seeing his already plump lips swollen.

"Perfectly fine Charles" I spoke wiping off my juices running down his chin with a towel nearby.

"A thousand times better now actually"

"I'm glad to hear you say that baby. Cause I'm not done with you" He whispered holding me firmly by the waist.

"Oh really?" I asked raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"Well unless you wanna wait until tomorrow after our first date"

"First date? Are you asking me out?"

"So what if I am? You got a problem with it y/l/n?"

"Nope. No problem here. Well except for the fact that I'm all dirty and sweaty" I said running my fingers through his messy hair.

"Well that just won't do for my princess will it? Round 2 in the shower?" He questioned making me laugh.

"If you think you can make me cum again then yes" I laughed pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"Oh I know I can" He mumbled into my lips before lifting me off the counter. I giggled as he walked to the bathroom in the back of the trailer. The small confined space making me realize just how hot he actually was. It was. I balanced myself as he put me down to turn on the water. I began to set it at a warm temperature, Listening as Charlie stripped himself of the rest of his clothes from behind me.

"Your so beautiful" Charlie whispered wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

"Mmm you weren't saying that last week"

"I wasn't saying it but I was thinking it" He spoke as I felt something poking me from behind.

"You think about me?" I asked turning around to face him.

"A lot" He responded as I walked backwards. The warm water hitting me from above for a split second before my back hit the cold wall.

"Good" I responded as he pinned me up against the wall.

I huffed as his large hands grabbed me from behind my thighs. Wrapping my legs around his waist. Our make out session getting more heated by the second. Pulling him closer wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of me.

He was quick to line himself up to my entrance. Entering me slowly.

"C-can I move?" He asked after a moment. I nodded thankful he let me adjust to his size.

Within seconds we both were a wreck as he pounded into me. A string of curse words leaving our lips as the warm water fell over us.

I moaned as he hit my g-spot. My legs becoming weaker the faster he moved. I felt familiar knot forming at the pit of my stomach as he let out a noise of disgruntlement.

"Fuck baby I'm almost there"

I nodded along. Not daring to attempt to form any words. Both of us reaching our climax one after the other.

"We should do this again sometime. You know after our date" He grinned placing me down gently.

"I agree" I spoke moving under the water. I sighed contently as his arms wrapped around me from behind. His lips grazing my skin as he place chaste kisses upon it. A small smile forming on my face.

As much as this was the end of our little feud it also a new beginning to a new relationship.

————

Up Next: Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Sacha Carlson x Reader

Booboo Stewart x Reader

Send in your requests!

#charlie gillespie #luke patterson x reader #luke jatp #luke patterson #alex jatp #flynn jatp #jeremy shada #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #madison reyes #owen patrick joyner #reggie jatp #jadah marie #nick jatp #owen joyner #alex x reader #reggie x reader #sacha carlson #sunset curve

385 notes · View notes

xtodorcki · 3 years

Note

Could you Maybe write something about marcos girlfriend finding him dead with jean and like comepletely breaking down? Just Lots of heartbreak 🙃❤️ly

“Heartbreak,” Marco x Reader

Summary: You, being Marco’s girlfriend, and Jean come across Marco’s body

Warnings: none

Marco x Fem!Reader

It was told to the scouts that Titans had stormed into Trost, making everyone get suited up and put out to try and protect as many citizens as possible.

While suiting up, you made sure to talk to Marco, knowing you two would be separated for a while but it was a habit of yours to always say goodbye and wish him luck. The way your anxiety would make you feel as if you needed to let him know before every mission that you loved him.

As you stood in the doorway, watching him tighten the ODM gear on his waist, his eyes had moved up to yours and a smile instantly appeared on his face. You began to soften up, some of your anxiety washing away as you smiled back at him.

“I know we’ll see each other afterwards but I wanted to wish you luck... like always.” You said quietly, your feet making their way inside the bedroom and he nodded.

“I know how you are.” He chuckled, his arms instantly embracing you in a tight hug and your face pressed against his chest as you took in his scent.

Your eyes had fluttered shut, taking in every second of this as you wrapped your arms around his torso and held onto him as you sighed under your breath, the overbearing anxiety floating over you again.

“You know we’ll meet back up afterwards.” He assured you, his large hand rubbing up and down your back to relax you a bit but it never really worked before any mission.

“Yeah but in case something happens, I won’t forgive myself for not telling you bye and loving you up before you go.” You admitted, turning your head upwards to look up at him and he frowned slightly.

“Nothing is going to happen, I promise. Once we’re back here, I’ll give you all of my love tonight.” His voice was low, the alarm that rang throughout the base had signaled that it was time to go.

“You better. I just want you once we’re back. No distractions.” You leaned up, pecking his cheek and he gave you another big smile.

“I promise... You know I love you, Y/N.” He tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ear and pressed his lips to your forehead then placing them on your lips.

“I love you, good luck.” You gave him one last quick kiss and walked beside him out the door to head outside with the rest of the scouts.

Time had went on, the scouts separating and doing the orders that were given to them and soon enough after everything had stopped and most of the Titans were killed, it was over and the scouts began to meet up.

“Some cadets are still missing, be aware.” One of the Captains said and you glanced around, trying to find Marco but he was nowhere.

It had made your heart race but you didn’t want to worry so soon, Marco was great at his job. He’s probably helping someone out.

You had glanced beside you at Jean once all were ordered to take a look around at the casualties while looking for missing members and the both of you had the same thought- stick together and find Marco.

Marco and Jean were pretty close, he was just as worried as you were and he didn’t want to think he was dead or eaten- he was a better scout afterall.

“Where should we look?” You stumbled out, the nerves kicking in and Jean had shrugged.

“Let’s just start off on the roofs and check between buildings.”

It had taken you two a while to look, seeing all the scattered blood and bodies but finally your eyes had landed upon a body laying down with a scouts jacket on. Your eyes had widened but you couldn’t make out the face so you didn’t want to assume.

You called Jean over, landing on the ground and the closer you stepped towards the slumped over body, the more noticeable that it was a guy and you seen the black hair, making you freeze on the spot.

Your heart dropped, your hands beginning to shake and your eyes filling up with tears.

“Marco?” You whispered, suddenly you were on your knees practically crawling over to the body and the loud scream that had escaped your lips had made Jean drop to the ground behind you and freeze as well.

The scream you had let out was painful to Jean’s ears, even scouts from pretty far had heard you as clear as day. The loud sobs escaping your lips had made Jean more afraid to approach you than ever.

Your hands had grabbed onto his body, or what was left of it and you couldn’t wrap your head around anything at all. The way your eyes were blurred from the amount of water in your eyes, the way your heart had felt like it was ripped out of your chest.

Jean had finally stepped forward, kneeling behind you and grabbed onto your shoulders. He was in just as much pain as you were, his eyes watered at the sight but he kept himself together and tried to grab onto you.

“Y/N..” He mumbled, his voice cracking and he tried to pull you back- you didn’t need to be around this.

But you stayed put, clinging onto his limp body and cried into his hair. The way your sobs had sounded, it made things more painful for Jean to try to pull you away from his corpse.

He hated this, he was angry. There was no way Marco could’ve gotten caught up by a Titan, his gear was gone and that had made him think this was intentional.

Finally the other scouts had found their way towards your screams, seeing Marco’s body and everyone stayed quiet as you laid there on the concrete.

“Jean, grab her.” Levi said, making him reach down and grab onto your body.

This time you had let him, letting go of Marco’s body as you fell limp in Jean’s arms. He had held onto you, embracing you in a hug as you cried in his chest.

Jean had tried to lead you away from the scene, walking with you to the end of the street he was at and tried to calm you down a bit.

He understood your pain, he wish he could take it all off of you though, knowing how broken down you really were.

“It’s okay.” He mumbled, shushing you and keeping you pressed against his chest.

The scouts had taken his body, making sure to be careful and bring it back for a burial. You had finally calmed down, watching them put him on the carriage and they took off his coat, handing it over to you.

You stared down at his coat, running your fingers over the badge and sighed to yourself, Jean’s hand still on your shoulder.

The emptiness you had felt deep inside your chest was huge, especially when Jean had mumbled to you how he thinks Marco was murdered and it was intentional that he was dead.

That had made you angry the more you stood there and thought about it, you knew Marco more than anyone but even still, everyone knew how much of a great scout he was- he wouldn’t let himself get caught up by a Titan.

Someone did this to him.

This is short but idk what else to really write out🤧

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

#Marco bodt #Marco x reader #Marco bodt imagines #Marco bott imagines #Marco bodt x reader #Marco bott x reader #Marco bodt fanfic #Marco bodt headcanons #Marco bott fanfic #Marco bott headcanons #aot imagines #aot headcanons #Marco aot #aot Marco

205 notes · View notes

sparklemichele · 3 years

Text

Politica Part 2

Coco Cruz X Black Reader

Read Part One Here

“Hey Ms. Y/L/N. How is that side mirror working out? Leticia asked as she entered your office and sat in the chair in front of your desk. You noticed a huge smile on her face. “What are you smiling about?”

Leticia leaned over a little. “My dad is so into you.” Her smiled widen. You could not help but to smile back as her beautiful smile was infectious just like her dads, and also the knowledge that her father was dead serious that he wanted to take you out that he told his daughter put a point in his basket. “I told your father that I don’t date my student’s parents or any family member for that matter.” Leticia let out a loud laugh. “Oh Ms. Y/L/N, you don’t know my father. He gets what he wants and trust me he wants you.”

“Yeah he told me that.”

“Go out with him. He is a pretty cool guy.”

You sighed. “Leticia is this why you made an appointment to talk about your dad?”

“Yes, and I actually have filled out the community college application.” She told you handing you the application.

“Great I will get your transcripts together and send this out today.” You told her as you quickly looked over the application to make sure everything was filled out correctly. “Everything looks good.”

“So you going to go out with my dad?” You frowned at her question.

“Did he ask you to ask me?”

“No, of course not. I would love for you two to go out. He would finally be dating someone I like. Tell me you don’t find him attractive?” Leticia asked inquisitively.

“Leticia this is not an appropriate conversation. Was there anything else you need?”

“You like him too.” Leticia smiled at her realization. The bell for lunch rung.

“Lunch time missy.” You stood up at your desk signaling her it was time to go. “I have to get this application out. Don’t you run and tell your father anything crazy.” You made a point to tell her as you opened your office door for her.

“What something like you are head over heels for him?”

“Oh my God Leticia! Don’t you dare!” Your eyes widen. Leticia gave you a mischievous smile as she headed to the lunch room.

Fuck! You knew she was going to tell her dad God knows what. She probably was on the phone with him now. You tried not to think about it the rest of the day. You got Leticia’s application out in the mail, counseled a few more students and your day was finally over.

You were digging in your purse for your keys as you headed to your car when you heard a voice.

“Hey beautiful.” You looked up and saw Coco parked his bike next to your car and was sitting on his bike. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him take one last drag of his cigarette and stub it out with his boots. He looked even better than you remembered from last week.

“Coco what are you doing here?”

Coco smiled a winning smile at you. “Well you remember my name that’s a good sign.”

“Why are you here?” You asked again with a small frown on your face. You didn’t want him to know how you were actually happy to see him.

“I came to see you.” Coco finally answered.

“Why?”

“Cause I want to take you out.” Coco walked up to you. You took a step back.

“You scared of me? That’s not what Leti says.” Coco took a step up to you again.

“YN, you alright?” The principal of the schooled slowed his car down as he passed by seeing the dangerous, looking biker standing in front of you.

“I’m fine Richard! I’ll see you tomorrow.” You assured him with a wave. Richard looked hesitant to leave but with your smile and nod he finally drove off. You notice other staff slowly drove by looking at you and Coco.

“They scared the big, bad biker going to hurt their counselor.”

You looked back at Coco and noticed he was extremely close to you now.

“Look Coco I don’t know what Leticia told you, but I can’t go out with you.” Coco smiled at you as he closed the gap you had between you both. He caressed your cheek.

“Just one night Y/N. I promise you won’t regret it.” The look in his eyes was making you lose resolve. He was still so oddly sexy. You studied his face, his hair which you wondered how it would feel to pull on as he was inside you, his tattoos. You were lost in your thoughts and you were getting turned on as you thought of sex with Coco. Coco stood there and watch you look him over. He knew he had you when he saw your eyes dilated and your breathing slightly increased. He knew what you were thinking. Coco leaned over and kissed your forehead. You looked up to his beautiful brown eyes.

“Coco…”

“Don’t say no. Just give me a chance. How about tomorrow night?”

You nodded your yes. This was the first time in your career you ever went out with a student’s family member, but you knew Coco was worth it. He wasn’t your usual type, but your usual types have always been boring. Coco was exciting and like you thought before, you knew he would turn you out and boy did you need that. It’s been awhile. He asked for your address and phone number. You gave him both without hesitation. You watched in silence as he put it in his phone. When he was done he leaned over and softly kissed your lips which caught you off guard, but you did not show it.

“You won’t regret this.” He told you smiling, putting on his helmet. “I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

“Ok.”

You watched as he climbed on his bike. You found your keys and open the door and got in. You looked over and notice Coco was still sitting on his bike. You rolled down the window and asked him was there anything else he needed. A seductive smile crossed his lips.

“You.” He told you bluntly and your core clenched. “I want to make sure you got out the parking lot safely.”

It was your turn to smile. “Thank you. I will see you tomorrow.” You told him as drove off.

You were comfortable on your couch in your satin pajamas on your third glass of wine when your doorbell rung. WTF? You looked at your watch and it was nine-thirty. Who the hell? You peeked out the peek hole and gasped when you saw Coco. What was he doing here? The date was tomorrow you thought as you slowly opened the door.

“Coco is everything alright?” He couldn’t call to give you a heads up. You had on your pj’s with a scarf on your head for God’s sake.

“Yeah everything is fine. Can I come in?”

You step to the side to let him in. He walked in and pulled a dozen roses from behind his back.

“Coco these are beautiful.” You told him grabbing them.

“I’m sorry I showed up announce and it won’t happen again. I happen to ride by a flower shop and I had to get these for you. I just couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you for thinking of me.” You told him as you went to grab a vase. “Please have a seat on the couch.”

Coco took off his kutte and put it on the couch arm.

“Would you like anything to drink?” You asked as you filled the vase with water.

“No, I’m fine.” He answered as he watches you put the roses in the water-filled vase on the coffee table. You went and sat next to him.

“Well you see how I look without any makeup and hair not done. You better run now.”

Coco chuckled. “You look even more beautiful”

You rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth. “Now I know you are full of shit.”

“No I’m not. I’m serious. Seeing you like this is a major turn on.” He told you as he scooted closer to you on the couch. Coco leaned closer to you as he removed the scarf you had on your head that held up your twist out. Your natural twist out fell loose and Coco looked at you in awe. You looked in his eyes as he wrapped his arm around your waist. “I told you that you would break that stupid policy you had for me.” He whispered just before his lips captured yours. You moaned as his lips felt so good against yours. Fuck that policy, you thought as you deepened the kiss. Coco hand found your neck and pushed harder in his kiss. His hands played in your hair as you both kissed each other not wanting to stop. You were wet and had to pull away as you needed to catch your breath. Coco licked his lips tasting you as he eyes you up and down. You notice his eyes stopped at your lap and a smile displayed on his face. You looked down and were horrified as a wet spot had seeped through your cream color satin pajamas. You were mortified.

“OMG!” You jumped up.

“Where are you going?!”

“I’m so embarrassed” You tried to walk away to change when Coco grabbed your hand.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. You want me as much as I want you.” Coco stood up and you saw his full erection straining against his jeans. You almost cried at how much you wanted him and you knew you would have to have him tonight.

“I think we need to fuck tonight Y/N.” Coco walked up to you pulled at your bottoms as his fingers felt just how wet you were. You moaned as his finger swept over your clit.

“Is that a yes?” Coco asked hearing your moan. You nodded your head and grabbed his hand leading him to your bedroom. Fuck that policy you were getting fucked tonight.

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

@rosey1981 @angels-reyes @emmysrandomthoughts @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @kmhappybunny @laketaj24 @princess-of-fuckup @hidden-treasures21 @glimmerglittergirl @est1887 @designerwriterchic @jennadoll19-blog @deepfrz @1000heartbeats @piccasoe @tashawar @whatsthemagicword-now @topshopwhxre @fangirlextraordinaire @racing-against-the-sunset @thickemadame @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @scumyeol

#Mayans MC #coco cruz #richard cabral #soa #sons of anarchy

160 notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Mountain Maiden

Anonymous requested a fantasy Shizuku fic. I took that to mean fantasy creature so I hope that was correct

sorry for the delay on this one, it took a lot of rewrites before I got to a place where I was happy with it

huldra!Shizuku

Warnings: blood, graphic depictions of violence, graphic imagery, gore, kidnapping

It was a nice day out, and since it was also your day off and you found yourself feeling a bit more adventurous, you had decided to take a mid-afternoon walk near the base of Mount Hulderheim. The walkway in the woods was surprisingly empty; you would have thought more people would have had the same idea of taking a walk on a day as nice as this one. Not that you could complain. It was nice to feel like you had the walkway to yourself.

At a certain point you took a break, sitting to the side of the path on a battered bench still covered in leaves and leaning your head back to watch the sky through the tree branches. As you sat there for a few minutes, and a peaceful silence surrounded the area, only interrupted by leaves as they were pushed around by a slight breeze.

A metal snapping sound and a soft yelp echoed through the forest and caught your attention, making you immediately stand up as you looked for the source of the sounds. They had come from further in the woods, beyond the small metal fencing that blocked off the areas that were too close to the mountain.

Unsure of what exactly those noises meant, you left the path and climbed over the small fence, ignoring the signs marked “do not enter” and those warning of falling rocks. You weren't normally one to ignore literal warning signs concerning the large mountain that overlooked the town where you lived, especially with how many from the sheriff's department warned about the dangers and the hefty fines that would come if you were caught, but you were certain that the yell you had heard had been human, and you needed to make sure that they were alright.

Weaving around numerous trees, you spotted a human shape in a nearby clearing. Though their back was turned to you, it looked like a woman. With short black hair and a long-sleeved black shirt, she was sitting in the clearing, focused on her leg that was bent in front of her. She heard when you approached, snapping her head back to face you, brown eyes staring at you through a pair of glasses.

“Are you alri- oh my god!”

You stumbled over your words as you realized that her foot had been caught in a bear trap, and she was currently trying to free herself by pulling on the metal jaws that held her. From where you stood, you could see some blood staining her jeans as well.

Doing your best to stay calm, you rushed over and knelt beside to her, your shaking hands pulled her surprisingly steady ones away from the jaws as you informed her “you can't get out of it that way, okay? We need to push down on the sides.”

You pointed to the large springs on either side of the trap.

“If we push down on those, it'll open.”

Looking at where you had pointed, the woman slowly nodded, her hands moving to the spring that was situated closest to her while you moved to the other one. She hadn't said anything yet, and you wondered if she was in shock.

The two of you pushed down on the springs, and slowly, the jaws opened, both of pushing until it had opened enough that she could slip her foot out.

“Wait a sec before you let-”

Before you could finish your sentence she had already let go, and without her weight on the spring, your strength wasn't enough to keep the jaws open and they snapped back shut with a loud clamor that rang through the forest, and this time you were the one who yelped as you instinctively jumped away.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, and you were certain you had just lost years off of your life.

“..... Sorry.”

The woman's soft voice brought you back, and you tried to calm yourself as she sheepishly looked down at the trap, seemingly realizing her mistake.

You shook your head.

“Don't worry about it. Let me see your leg, okay?”

She had been holding the area where the jaws of the trap had pierced her skin, and reluctantly pulled her hands away when you went over to inspect it, pulling up her pant leg as delicately as you could.

“The cuts don't seem too deep,” you said, “but I don't know how clean that trap is, so they might be infected.”

Pulling out a small pocketknife that you kept for emergencies, you cut a jagged strip off of the bottom of your shirt. The woman watched in silence as you wrapped the piece of cloth around her wound, pulling it tight to try and stop the bleeding. You instructed her to apply pressure around the wound, which she also did silently.

“There isn't much of a signal this close to the mountain, so I'm going to leave for a little so I can call an ambulance,” you said, “then we'll get you to a hospital and they should-”

“No.”

She interrupted you, and you blanked for a bit as you tried to recollect your thoughts, adrenaline still messing with your way of thinking.

“No?” you repeated.

“No ambulance. No hospital,” she said, then added “if you call them I'll leave.”

You weren't sure how to respond. There was no way you could just leave her like this; that wound needed more than your makeshift first aid, and you'd blame yourself for the rest of your life if she left while you were calling an ambulance and ended up needing an amputation or even dying because of an infection. Granted those were the absolute worst-case scenarios, but there was still a possibility it could get to that point.

She must have had a good reason for why she wouldn't go to a hospital. And even though you wanted to push her to go anyway, it would be better to try and work with her.

Taking in a deep breath to try and calm yourself further, you nodded at her.

“Okay. I won't involve a hospital,” you said, “but I'm not leaving you here like this. Will you come with me, and I'll fix you up at my house?

“I promise, no hospitals,” you added when the look in her eyes turned dubious, “I'm just worried, okay? This could turn into something really bad if we just leave it alone.”

She was quiet again, silently regarding you before turning her gaze to her wounded leg, her hands still wrapped around the fabric of your shirt that was slowly filling up with blood.

“Alright,” she said finally, “as long as that's all you're going to do.”

With a deep sigh of relief, you went to the side of her injury, her arm over your shoulder and yours around her waist as lifted her up, telling her to not put any weight on her foot as you began to lead her out of the clearing.

She had tensed slightly when your arm brushed against her back, but you barely noted it, putting all your focus into getting her out of those woods.

“If I check that again and I find that it's infected, I'm taking you to a doctor whether you want to or not,” you said to her, pointing to her newly bandaged leg.

“I think it'll be fine,” she said, “you seemed to know what you were doing.”

“Googling instructions on how to take care of an injury doesn't mean I know what I'm doing,” you answered, sighing as you began to put away the first aid kit. After frantically driving back to your home and getting her inside, you'd spent a good while looking up how to properly clean a wound and then how to bandage it, trying to hold yourself together whenever you felt like you had made a mistake. Now you were exhausted and you wanted nothing more than to collapse on your bed and pass out. But with your unexpected guest still being around and your obligation to make sure she got home safe, you probably wouldn't be doing that any time soon.

The woman in question had remained calm throughout all of it, and she now sat on your couch in one of your skirts that you had given her when you'd insisted that she change out of her bloody jeans. She was currently playing with the hem of the skirt as she looked around your living room.

As you set the first aid kit back on its shelf in the cabinet, a chill ran through you and you realized that you had yet to change out of your ruined shirt.

“I'll be back in a second. I need to change,” you called out to her. She responded with a short “okay” as you went off to your bedroom.

Maybe she was a bit too nonchalant about the whole situation. If it had been you who had gotten a foot in a bear trap, there probably would have been a lot more crying on your part. Then again, people processed trauma in different ways; maybe she was just someone who internalized everything.

At least for now it was over, and as you pulled a clean shirt over your head, you hoped you had done a good enough job on patching her up.

Tossing your old shirt into the trash bin as you passed by the kitchen, she was in the same spot you had left her, her eyes going back to you when she noticed your form in the doorway.

A thought then occurred to you.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Shizuku. And yours?”

You answered with your name, and then asked her “you want something to drink? I've got soda.”

“Okay.”

After getting two cans out of the fridge and handing one to her, you sat down on the couch as well, taking a long swig out of the drink as you sank into the cushions. Shizuku sipped at her drink quietly.

“So I won't ask about the hospital thing,” you began, “but what were you doing in that area? People aren't supposed to go into that part of the forest.”

Shizuku shrugged.

“Just wandering, I guess. I didn't think anyone would put traps there.”

“That's probably something that should be reported,” you said, “but I'm not sure if we can do that without outing you for going in there.”

“Would it really be that bad?” she asked.

“The fines aren't worth it. That trail is usually pretty busy, so honestly, we're pretty lucky no one saw us.”

“Hmm.”

She took another sip at the soda while you looked back down at her leg.

“You're sure that everything feels okay with that?” you asked.

“Yeah,” she answered as she looked past you.

“Your flowers are dead.”

“Huh?”

Looking behind to where she pointed, you saw that the flowers you had set out a week ago were indeed dead, withered and dried out with the petals and bits of leaves that had fallen off surrounding the glass vase they sat in.

“Shoot. Let me clear that up,” you said as you got back up. Your body protested slightly after having gotten comfortable on the couch, but you forced yourself anyway, clearing up the mess and throwing the dead flowers into the trash.

“Will you need new ones?” Shizuku asked as you sat back down.

“At some point; I'm not going to worry about that now. Too exhausted,” you sighed.

Shizuku hummed, tapping her fingernails against the metal of the soda can.

“Seems like I've caused you a lot of problems. Sorry about that,” she said.

“What was I supposed to do? Leave you there?” you asked, “helping someone out of a situation like that is the natural thing to do.”

She hummed again, still staring at the can. Maybe it was just how tired you were, but there was a certain tone to her voice that made it seem like she didn't agree.

“Anyway,” you continued, “it'd be best if you didn't go back to that area. If someone's setting up traps like that, who knows what else could be there.”

“There have never been traps there before,” she said, “those are something recent.”

“.... How often are you jumping that fence to get to that area?” you asked.

She shrugged.

“A lot.”

“.... Don't you think you should stop doing that? With what happened today?”

“It'll be fine. I'll be careful from now on.”

She downed the rest of her drink while you looked at her in disbelief. Shizuku must have had nerves of steel to not even be concerned about those traps. Or maybe she just had a really, really poor sense of self-preservation.

Shizuku set the now empty can on the coffee table.

“It's starting to get late. I should get going.”

She was right that it was getting late; the sun was setting, leaving the sky in various shades of orange and pink as the dark of night began to creep in. Had that much time passed since you had found her?

“Give me a sec. I'll drive you.”

“No, you don't need to,” she said, “I'll walk.”

“Your leg-”

“It's fine. I can walk on it,” she interrupted, “this may sound strange, but it would be an issue if you saw where I lived, so I need to go back alone.”

….. She was right in that it sounded strange, and you really didn't feel right just letting her walk back by herself. But the way she was speaking now was similar to how she was when she refused to go to a hospital, and by now you had a sense that you wouldn't be able to change her mind if that was what she decided.

“As long as you're certain about that, then okay,” you told her, “but if you change your mind halfway, you can come back and I'll help you out, alright?”

“That won't be necessary; I'll make it back,” she answered.

You stood up after she did, the both of you making your way to your front door and you opening it for her. She thanked you with a little nod of her head as she stepped out into the evening air.

“I'll come back tomorrow to give your skirt back,” she said as she looked back to you.

“There's no rush; just focus on healing up.”

You said that, and yet as she walked away, she seemed to have no trouble at all with her leg. There was no way your patch-up job had been that good, so maybe her injury wasn't as bad as you thought it was.

But even if the situation hadn't been as dire as you'd first thought, you were still worried about her.

“Shizuku,” you called out just as she reached the sidewalk. She paused, turning to look to you.

“If you do need anything – if you get hurt again or something, you can come to me. I don't mind helping you out.”

She stood there silently for a moment, taking in your words.

Then, for the first time since meeting her that afternoon, her lips curled upward in a small smile.

“Okay.”

As she had told you, Shizuku was standing at your front door when you returned from work the next day. She was holding something, though you couldn't see what, and she seemed to look a bit lost as she stood in front of your home, looking about and trying to peer through windows before she spotted you coming towards her.

“Back already?” you asked jokingly, “how's the leg?”

“It's fine,” she answered, then she held out to you what she had been holding: the skirt you had lent her yesterday, and a small bouquet of flowers.

“I wanted to return this, but I couldn't quite remember if this was where you lived or not,” Shizuku said.

“You weren't waiting long, were you?” you asked as you took the skirt she held out, briefly noting the flowers that were set on top were less like a bouquet and more like she had hastily pulled whatever she could find out of the ground as a gift for you. You just hoped she didn't take them from one of your neighbor's gardens.

“Not too long. I was just nervous about knocking on the door in case it wasn't your house,” she admitted.

“I get that. You want to come in? I'll take a look at your bandages,” you said, unlocking the front door and motioning for her to come inside.

“Okay.”

She took the same place on the couch that she had taken yesterday, waiting patiently for you as you set up the flowers she had brought and grabbed the first-aid kit. Sitting down in front of her, you prepared for the worst as you began to undo the bandages you had wrapped yesterday.

When the bandages came off, you were surprised at how clean the wound was. There was some bruising, but the places where the teeth of the trap had broken through to the skin were healing nicely.

“It looks like it isn't infected, so that's a relief,” you said, “and you're walking around fine?”

“I heal fast,” Shizuku answered as you began to re-wrap her leg with the fresh bandages.

“I wish I healed fast like that,” you said, laughing a bit as you continued “there was one time when I was in elementary school, I fell of the playground and landed on my ankle wrong. It didn't break, but I was limping for weeks afterwards.”

Shizuku stayed quiet, watching as you finished up bandaging her.

“Did you grow up here?” she asked.

“No. I moved here for my job, ah, about a year ago?” you answered, “I think it's been about a year. How about you? How long have you lived here?”

“A while.”

“Just 'a while'?”

She shrugged.

“I guess it's been years. I don't pay much attention to how long it's been.”

“I see,” you said, closing up the first-aid kit.

“Since you've lived here longer, maybe you could tell me about some good spots in this town that I've missed.”

“I wouldn't know anything about that. I usually stay home,” she said.

“Except when you're hopping over fences to restricted areas?”

“Yeah, except when I'm doing that.”

You laughed again.

“After what I saw yesterday, I think I'll be avoiding that area.”

Your tone became a bit more serious as you continued, “and I still really think you should stop doing that since it's clearly not safe.”

“I'll be okay,” she said, “what happened yesterday won't happen again.”

Damn. You really weren't going to convince her on that.

“Alright, alright,” you said, raising your hands in defeat.

Standing back up to put away the kit, you glanced over to the flowers she had brought.

“I didn't mention it earlier, but thank you for the flowers,” you said to her, “they're really pretty.”

That shy smile formed on her face, and she nodded at you.

“So,” you said once you had put away the kit, “you want to get something to eat?”

“Okay.”

She left again at the end of the evening, and she asked if she could come back the next day. Of course, you had said yes.

It became routine for her to show up at your home after you had gotten off work, always managing to arrive just after you came back. Afternoons and evenings with her were nice, filled with conversation, though more often then not you were the one doing most of the talking. At first you had thought you might be rude, but after a bit you realized that she was happy enough to listen to you talk and interject when she found it appropriate.

The subject of her life situation still worried you, however. But you tried not to dwell on it or bring it up since she didn't seem to like that. Instead, you made it apparent that you were available to talk if she wanted to. With how little she emoted, it was hard to tell if she knew that without outright telling her, but you hoped the message got across.

Days passed by peacefully and her injury had healed to the point that she didn't need the bandages anymore. There were barely any scars left over, which had surprised you, but you were just happy that she really was doing okay. But as time went on, you noticed her behavior change ever so slightly. Like she was nervous about something, or like she wanted to mention something, but as always she never said anything, assuring you that everything was as it should be.

You didn't push her, and just hoped that if something really was wrong, she would open up to you about it on her own.

You were laying face down on a tall cliff, the grass soft against your face while the sun beat down on your back. Below in the distance, you could see the town, the buildings and houses all looking smaller than your fingernail from where you lay. Mount Hulderheim was a beautiful place, you mused. The town council didn't realize what they were missing out on by not allowing people up here. Although maybe that was for the best; if they were to see how nice it was, they'd probably want to set the place up as a tourist attraction and the peaceful atmosphere would be lost. Just as well they keep forbidding anyone from coming.

Closing your eyes, you were content to keep laying there and bask in the sunlight. It wasn't often that you had the opportunity to relax like this, and you were going to make the most of it.

Then you were jolted by the feeling of sharp claws digging into your back, and you looked behind to see that a crow had landed on you, the claws on its feet carelessly breaking through the fabric of your shirt and marking up your back. It tilted its head, blinking as it looked at you and observing you in the same way you were observing it.

“Get off,” you mumbled, not wanting to immediately go to aggressive means to get it to leave. Not only were those claws still sharp, its beak was large and could probably do a lot to injure you if you weren't careful.

It squawked at you, then jumped around your back for a bit, making you hiss in pain at the way those claws kept scratching your flesh. It moved to your shoulder and looked at your back, tilting its head again.

“Get off,” you repeated, your voice raising.

It ignored you this time, blinking several times as it looked down your back.

Then it began to peck at you.

You cried out, tears forming at the pain you felt as the crow pecked at your back over and over again. Then you moved to get up and swat the damn thing.

Or at least you would have, had you been able to move.

Your arms and legs refused to work, laying stiff and heavy on the ground. You were barely able to twitch your fingers, much less reach back and get the crow away from you. There was nothing you could do as the crow continued to peck at your now-exposed skin and began to pull it off in small pieces.

Your shirt quickly became stained red with blood as it went after your flesh, picking off bits of skin and throwing them to the side only to go back for more. The remains of your shirt were decimated, and it went down your back until it reached your hips, and then returned up on your other side, pecking and pulling off your skin until it was gone, a bright red hole from below your shoulder-blades down to your waist showing off the muscles of your back that glistened as they were exposed to the sunlight.

And then the crow began to do the same to the muscles.

You watched, your mind hopelessly blank while the pain shot up through you, tears streaming down your face. You tried to move again, you really did. But it was no use; your body remained paralyzed. Beams of sun still hit your body, the peaceful atmosphere on the mountain staying the same even while this was happening to you.

When the sinews were pulled off and it reached bone, you started to scream.

You cried out for help. For someone, anyone, to save you.

But no one came. And as you looked back to your town, you could vaguely see the movements of the people there, so far away and unable to help you, completely oblivious to how you were being slowly picked to pieces.

A curtain of blood fell from the hole in your back and down your sides as you were surrounded by piles of skin, muscles, sinews and now pieces of your own spine and ribs, the bones breaking off from each other with sickening snaps before they were tossed aside like garbage.

Your voice grew hoarse and you couldn't keep screaming, accepting defeat and watching as the crow continued to work. How were you still conscious for this? How were you even still alive?

Your organs, intestines and whatever remained of your rib cage were all pulled out, joining the bloody piles by your sides. Finally, the crow stopped, perching on the edge of the hole it had created within you and twitching its head as though congratulating itself on a job well done.

Those black beady eyes looked back at you, for the first time since it started, opened its beak-

And a stream of black liquid began to fall out.

Like the faucet of a sink, the stream of the tar-like substance was steady and unending, falling from the beak of the crow and landing on and inside of you, slowly taking over the outside of your body as it filled up the hole that had just been created.

It began to engulf your shoulders, and then your neck, and then you were straining your head as best you could as the tar expanded. As you took one last gasp of breath, it took over your head completely, and when you were no longer able to hold your breath, you began to suffocate.

You woke with a start, drenched in sweat and you sat up in bed as your heart was pounding in your chest. One of your hands instantly went underneath your shirt to feel your back. What met you was the expanse of your own skin. No blood, no wounds from the beak of a crow, no massive gaping hole or an empty space where your insides should have been. You sighed in relief.

God what a fucked up dream.

You fell back onto the bed with a thump, a hand over your head as you tried to calm yourself down. It was a dream. Just a dream.

An incredibly messed-up dream which felt so real that your brain had been convinced that it was actually happening. That you really were up on that mountain getting your insides pecked out by a crow.

Anxiety swelled in you and you once again put a hand behind your back, checking once more just to make sure. Again, your skin was unmarred, and the muscles and bones beneath it were in the exact spots that they were supposed to be, confirming that it was, in fact, only a dream. Even if it felt more real than any other dream you'd ever had, there wasn't more to it than that.

Didn't mean you'd be getting back to sleep, though. You tossed and turned in your bed, but the images from your dream stayed in your mind even as you tried to will them away. At a certain point you'd needed to turn the light on because there were too many instances of you looking around your dark room and scaring yourself when you thought certain spots looked like the black tar that had engulfed you at the end.

No, you definitely wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight.

Sitting up in bed, you pulled out your laptop and mindlessly browsed the internet, trying to find whatever distraction you could to take your mind off of that awful dream.

When daylight came and you took a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you were taken aback by how much you looked like literal death. You could only remember one other instance of you looking this bad, one time several years ago when you had gotten incredibly sick.

Not wanting to worry your coworkers and still feeling tired from your lack of sleep, you called in sick to your work, and your new plan for the day was to try and relax as best you could and recover. And probably avoid going outside as much as possible so there was little chance you would need to interact with people. Right now you just really wanted to be by yourself.

But when Shizuku dropped by unexpectedly later on, you let her in without any hesitation.

“You don't look very good,” she commented after a few minutes of being there.

“I had a messed up dream,” you said.

“What happened?”

“I don't want to talk about it; it's gross,” you answered.

Shizuku hummed a reply, but didn't push you further. When you asked if she wanted to watch a movie she nodded, staying as her typical quiet self.

Hours went by as you spent time with her, watching tv or having discussions on whatever topics your brain could come up with. Anything to distract yourself.

It was evening when the alcohol had been brought out, but you couldn't remember how or why you decided to try and get drunk.

“I didn't think you were the kind to drink,” Shizuku said.

“I don't, usually. I just feel like it tonight. But you don't have to drink if you don't want to.”

“I don't mind. But I'm just not sure if that's what you should be doing right now.”

You laughed a little as you assured her “it'll be fine. Once in a while doesn't hurt.”

The evening continued, and neither of you were drinking all that much, just little sips here and there. Eventually, she asked you again about your nightmare, and this time you told her. Only a little bit, but just mentioning any of it had you feeling sick again. As expected, Shizuku didn't seem to have much of a reaction after you told her.

“That's scary,” she said.

“Yeah, it was. And all I want right now is to forget about it.”

“That's understandable.”

It was hard to tell where the turning point was, but soon you began to feel more inebriated than you were anticipating. Your speech was getting a bit more slurred, your movements sluggish and your thoughts muddy. Shizuku seemed fine, though, and she seemed to be matching every drink you had taken. You should have stopped at that point. A small voice of reason was telling you to stop before you did something stupid, but it was fun just sitting there and talking with Shizuku like you two were the only people in the world.

You should have stopped. But you didn't.

“Your necklace... That's a Saint Peter's cross, right?” you asked, leaning in closer to her. You had seen that necklace dozens of times by now, but for whatever reason, it fascinated you.

“Yeah,” she answered.

You thought it looked like it was made of gold. But that seemed unlikely. It was probably some other metal just made to look gold.

“What's it made of?”

“Not sure.”

Her voice sounded close. Maybe a bit too close.

You looked up and found that your face was inches away from hers, having lost yourself while thinking about her necklace and leaning in further than would have ever been necessary without even realizing it.

Embarrassment hit you hard when you noticed that the cross was situated right at her chest and you'd just been staring right in that area and oh God she probably thought you were a pervert with the way you'd been staring.

Bits of words began to fall from your mouth as you tried to pull back, and just that action gave you some difficulty as your body's movements were still sluggish.

God you were such an idiot and now Shizuku wasn't going to like you and-

A hand at the back of your head pulled you forward and you found your lips pressed against hers.

The action left you stunned, and you remained frozen when she pulled away. She looked as she normally did, but there was a slight flush to her face, and when you made eye contact, she smiled at you. That small smile she would only give on occasion, and in that moment you realized how much you loved seeing it.

You pulled her into a kiss that time, your hands delicately cupping her face while she placed hers on your sides. She smelled like pine and tree bark, your addled brain was able to note.

The two of you moved slow; you kept your touches feather light as your hands trailed down her neck and onto her shoulders. Her grip was slightly firmer than yours but stayed on your sides, her fingers rubbing your skin through your shirt.

This moment felt so good and sweet and warm and you loved Shizuku so much and you didn't even care that your blinds were still open and the neighbors could probably see inside you didn't care and you wanted more.

Your tongue slipped out, pressing against her lips to entice her to do the same as your arms moved to circle around her back-

She pushed you away suddenly, breaking the kiss and holding you at arms length.

Fuck fuck fuck you messed up. You did something wrong and now Shizuku didn't like you.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,” you repeated again and again, once more trying to pull yourself away and save yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Wasn't trying to make you mad-”

“I'm not mad.”

Shizuku's calm voice quieted you. Her face was still flushed but she seemed as normal as ever.

“I'm not mad. It's just....” she trailed off, looking at the half-full glasses on the coffee table, “I don't think either of us can make good decisions right now.”

She turned you so your back was facing her, and she pulled you back so you were held against her chest. Your nerves calmed as you relaxed against her, reaching up to grasp one of the hands that held you.

She was mumbling something. Something about not having any time left and needing to go back. Your dream was a sign and you'd need to go with her. You didn't understand any of it, but just hearing her voice was comforting and made you feel safe, so you ignored it.

You fell asleep like that, laying against Shizuku and her arms wrapped around you.

The sun was beating down on your form as you sat on the edge of a cliff, once more looking down at the town from a distance.

It was a dream again, you realized. It had to be. You wouldn't come up here because it wasn't allowed, nor did you remember making any journey up the mountainside. So it was a dream, and you desperately wanted to wake up before a repeat of the last one could happen.

You shut your eyes tight and then opened them. Once. Twice, and a dozen more times, but the imagery in front of you stayed the same, and you began to feel panicked as you heard the cawing of a crow in the distance. Trying to move from the spot where you were sitting proved useless, as you were once again paralyzed. This time you couldn't even move your neck, and you were forced to look forward as you heard the crow coming closer and closer.

“Please no,” you whispered, rapidly opening and shutting your eyes over and over, trying to force yourself awake as you heard it crying from right behind you. Anything but that again.

The cawing of the crow stopped suddenly.

A brief moment of silence passed, your fear and anticipation through the roof as you waited to feel that beak digging into you again.

Two small feminine hands appeared from your periphery and covered your eyes.

“It's all right,” a voice whispered in your ear.

“Shizuku?” you asked. You tried once again to look behind, but your neck stayed stiff.

“It's all right,” she repeated.

A gust of wind blew past the two of you, coming from the side and making a mess of your hair. It caused a chill to run through you, your whole body rattling as the cold wind struck you from the inside, moving through the hole in your exposed back that you hadn't realized was already there.

The first thing you were aware of was the fact that you had a slight headache. Probably a hangover that would take you a few hours to recover from while you cursed yourself for being so stupid as to drink to that point. The second thing that came to mind was the scent of earth that surrounded you. Far more woodsy than that of your room, and definitely not normal.

As you slowly opened your eyes, your slight confusion turned into a mild panic: this wasn't your room, not even close.

You had been placed on a bed that seemed to have been built into the wall, a small wooden niche within a room where the walls looked as though they were a collection of surprisingly massive tree roots. Books and various pieces of clothing were scattered throughout the room amongst the wooden furniture, making the area quite cluttered. There were no windows, but you spotted a stairway that had been carved into the roots, the wooden steps leading upwards.

Ignoring your headache, you jumped to your feet, speed-walking through the room while you stepped around mess, trying not to trip. You tried your best to stay calm; something was obviously very, very wrong for you to wake up in such a strange place, but freaking out wouldn't help anything. Right now, you just needed to figure out where you were and go from there. Thinking back to what you remembered last didn't help much – Shizuku had come by, you were certain, but nothing else beyond that. Had you been kidnapped? Were you in danger? Was Shizuku safe? Or was she in the same situation as you?

You needed to find her and then get out of here.

Just as you'd made it to the first few steps, a searing pain ripped through your back, causing you to stumble and fall as you cried out. It felt like your back was on fire, rippling up and down your spine and eating into your muscles, leaving you sweating and like you were about to throw up. You grasped at the edge of a step, unable to do much else as the pain continued.

“You shouldn't get up.”

A voice above you spoke, and you looked up to find Shizuku standing on the upper steps, a medium-sized wooden bucket resting against her hip as she stared down at you.

“Sh-Shizuku,” you breathed, “help... It hurts.....”

“I know.”

Shizuku walked the rest of the way down the stairs, setting the bucket down on the floor before she knelt next to you, pulling one of your arms off of the steps and slinging it around her neck, her other hand going down to hold you by your waist. She hoisted you up that way with little effort. Despite the burning sensation you felt, small “thank you”s left your lips as you held onto her, your legs trembling as you tried to gain a good footing on the stairs, eager for her to carry you up.

But instead of going up the stairs, Shizuku turned both of you around and began to lead you back to the bed.

“W-wait! Shizuku, we need to leave!” you protested.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, 'why'? Someone kidnapped us! We need to figure out where we are and get help!”

“We don't need to do that,” Shizuku answered as she set you back on the bed. You let out a small hiss of pain as she did so, supporting yourself on shaking arms as she stood before you.

“We're on the mountain,” she told you, “and no one kidnapped us. I brought you here. This is my home.”

“..... What? What are you talking about? Why would you do this?” you asked, bewildered.

“Hmm. I think it'll be easier if I just show you.”

With her hands gripping the hem of her shirt, Shizuku turned her back to you and lifted the fabric up until it reached her shoulder-blades.

At that moment, the only thing that could be heard in that room was your labored breathing that only increased when you registered what you were seeing.

A hole.

There was an honest-to-God hole in the middle of her back.

The jagged edges resembled that of tree bark, brown and cracked and a clear roughness to it before it smoothed out into human skin. The edges stuck out slightly as well, peeling outward as though something had at one point busted through, leaving this as the unfortunate aftermath. But within the hole was nothing; no bones, no muscle, no organs or anything, just a smooth, empty space within her that looked like a hollowed out tree.

You couldn't get any words out. It made no sense. There was no way that Shizuku could be alive in the way she was, missing so many vital organs and even her spine, no one could be alive after losing all of that.

But the woman who turned her head to look back at you was definitely living, and even breathing despite her lack of lungs.

“See?”

She tilted her head at you in that way you had grown to love, and you found yourself trying to focus on that instead of the impossible situation that stood before you.

“.... I don't understand,” you finally whispered.

“I don't either, really,” Shizuku admitted with a sigh, pulling down her shirt as she turned to face you.

“I think I've been here a long time, but I don't remember how I got here. I forgot,” she said, “I don't know why it happens, but it looks like any woman that stays on this mountain for too long ends up this way.

“That's probably why the town blocked it off,” she mused, “I don't think they know why it happens or what to do about it, so it's probably easier for them to just forbid access to try and keep anyone else ending up like me or the others.”

“Others?” you asked, still not fully understanding what she was saying.

“Yeah. There used to be others up here, but it's just me now,” Shizuku explained.

“Wh-where did they go?”

Shizuku shrugged.

“Not sure. Maybe they found a way to break the curse, or maybe they just died.”

For the first time since you awoke, you perked up, ignoring the possibility of the other women being dead and just focusing on the first part.

“We could try to find them, Shizuku. If we can talk to one of them, maybe we can figure it out, too.”

Shizuku's eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“To break the curse, like you said! If we find one of them and they tell us how they did it, you won't have to be like this anymore. And then maybe the both of us could live together, you wouldn't have to be alone up here,” you insisted.

Her expression was blank as she stared at you wordlessly.

“I think you've misunderstood a few things,” she said after a moment.

“I don't know if it is possible to fix this; for all I know, those others are dead. But even if there was a way to change this, I wouldn't do it. I don't mind being this way. I like it up here. I think that's why the others didn't like me much: they wanted to leave and I was happy to stay here. And I thought I wouldn't mind when they all eventually left, but...”

She trailed off, sighing as she looked up in thought.

“The loneliness started to get to me,” she admitted, “you don't realize how much you need someone else with you until you're completely alone.”

Shizuku smiled shyly then, looking back at you.

“But now you're here. We can stay up here together.”

Your mind wanted to focus on the way she was smiling at you and how rare it was for her to show emotion like that. Anything that wasn't what you had seen and what she had said. But there was no way you could just go along with this like nothing was wrong.

“Shizuku,” you began, “I can't stay up here. I'm not like you.”

“Mm. And I think that's where you've misunderstood again,” she said, her small smile vanishing.

“I said it earlier: it happens to any woman who stays on the mountain. That pain you're feeling? That means it's started.”

She stepped to the side, grabbing a small hand mirror that had been sitting on a shelf before she sat down next to you. When she pulled your shirt up and over your head, you protested, but the words quickly died in your throat when you glanced at the mirror she had facing your back.

Your skin had hardened and cracked, outlined in pieces as though it was the bark of a tree, starting from the middle of your spine and spreading outward. The pain you had been experiencing was forgotten during Shizuku's explanation but reignited at the sight of that, the skin of your back burning and making you lurch forward, gripping the sheets as you were almost driven to tears. Shizuku held the mirror still, and when you looked back again you saw that the cracks had spread further.

“You should lay back down. It's a long process, and it's going to hurt,” Shizuku said, setting aside the mirror and gently pushing you until you were laying on your front. Unclipping your bra and pushing it out of the way, her hands lightly trailed down your spine, lingering near the middle, where the bits of skin had hardened completely and the edges were curling up, ready to break off.

She only left your side to retrieve the bucket she had left by the stairway, and after she had settled herself on the bed with you, Shizuku began to break the pieces off, tossing them into the bucket.

No blood came from your wounds, but you were in no state to think about that as you screamed against the mattress and Shizuku continued to pull the pieces off of you, what was once your skin resembling a pile of woodchips as they were thrown away.

Shizuku diligently worked, pausing once in a while to hold your hand, ruffle your hair, or to lean down and kiss you on the cheek as she reassured you that it would be okay.

By the time your bones were ready to be removed you had passed out.

#reader insert #shizuku x reader #shizuku murasaki #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere shizuku #hxh shizuku #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hxh

138 notes · View notes

rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

An Artful Revenge Pt. 2

Feyre’s part of The Damnation Series. Part 1 is here.

I am proud of myself for finishing this shit, because it’s long as fuck. Whoops.

~Feyre~

Honestly, I should’ve known.

I should’ve known that somehow, with whatever endless resources he has, he would find me.

That’s all I can think as I find my way into the Impressionists exhibit and find Rhysand Azara, real estate agent to the stars, leaning against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee and looking at Dancers in Blue with narrowed eyes.

It’s been five days since our date, and like the cliché I am, I’ve spent the entire time thinking about him. I’ve checked my phone countless times, and I even decided to stalk him and Googled his name.

When--just like he’d said--nothing came up, I googled Dancers in Pink. He said he had it, but it had been sold a few years ago in an auction to “Amren Valenta.”

Unless Rhysand had a stage name, that was definitely not him.

I dug some more, but after three hours all I discovered was that he owned Azara Industries, which owned a lot of buildings downtown. Oh, and he never let himself be photographed.

Which was upsetting, because it means I had nothing to stare at whilst stalking him.

Pathetic. I am so pathetic.

But anyway, I should’ve known he’d come here. He’d said he’d call, but he didn’t have my number. Plus, I’d told him I come here pretty much every day, so really, what did I expect?

I still laugh as I spot him though, somehow surprised, and ask, “Here to flirt with more art students?”

“Just one,” he answers, running his eyes over me as I draw closer.

Gods, this man is seductive. He’s just looking at me, but I feel his gaze like a touch, dragging over my entire body with slow, intentional grazes.

My breath hitches, and his eyes twinkle, like he’s well aware to the dirty place my mind has wondered. I can tell he’s holding in some likely-male comment, but he refrains from embarrassing me and he holds out another cup of coffee.

I take it, grateful for the caffeine boost, and find it somehow made exactly the way I like it. Maybe I’m not the only one stalking.

Although his methods have to be better than mine if he already knows about the definitely unhealthy amount of sugar I put in my coffee.

“How many times have you been here this week?” I ask, curious to see his level of devotion.

“Three. Not a very convenient way of communicating with someone, I admit. I was about to send a smoke signal.” He watches me sip the coffee, watches my tongue dart over my lip. “Plans tonight?”

I fight a sigh and decide to be a student worthy of my scholarship for once. “I told myself I’d work on my senior project.”

His lips twitch at my dejected tone. “What is it?”

A ginormous pain in my ass. “Bad,” I say simply.

He shakes his head, sipping his coffee and eyeing me over the rim of the cup. “Details.”

For someone who offers no information, he loves demanding it from me. Instead of fight it, I groan and give in to the patriarchy. “It’s just bad! It’s supposed to be a mix of different styles and mediums, but it’s going so poorly I might just start over. Or drop out and become a starving artist a year ahead of schedule.”

Rhysand smiles at my phrasing. “I would never let you starve. And what do you mean, mixing styles and mediums?”

“For someone who frequents museums and has millions of dollars in art, you don’t know much about it, do you?”

“I have people for that.”

“Amren Valenta?” I ask without thinking, exposing myself as a stalker.

He pauses, cup halfway to his smirking mouth, and raises a brow. “Clever, creepy little woman,” he teases. “But yes. Amren is my curator, and we use her name because I don’t want media attention. As I’m sure you know.”

Busted and blushing to high hell, I roll my eyes and become a junior detective. “Isn’t it illegal to buy something with someone else’s name? What if the IRS comes after you?”

Rhysand looks at a loss for words at that. If I weren’t serious, it would make me laugh how shocked he looks. “I guess,” he says after a moment, “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

I roll my eyes again, because we both know he doesn’t give a shit. It’s not like the IRS actually enforces rules for the one percent, anyway.

“Now tell me about your project.”

Rolling my eyes at how bossy he is, I tell him, “I wanted to combine photography and painting. And I wanted it to be kind of abstract, but also realistic enough.”

“Ambitious.”

I sigh, not able to repress it this time. “Stupid, is what it is. I don’t even know where to start. I have no motivation, let alone inspiration, to work on it.”

A contemplative look crosses his face. “I know where you could find inspiration.”

I raise an eyebrow and gesture around us, because in case he’s missed it, we’re in a museum. Inspiration abounds. But he scoffs and whispers, “This is child’s play compared to a certain someone’s private collection.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, playing along and pretending I don’t know the someone he’s talking about.

He nods, looking around as if making sure there are no spies in the completely empty room listening we’re standing in. “He has Degas, Monet, Dali, you name it. And he’s generous enough to let you come over tonight.”

Pursing my lips, I scan his face, trying to see if he’s serious. I mean... I am dying to see his collection. But, “Is this just a ploy to get me naked?”

He puts a hand on his chest, offense written across his face. “You think I’d try to seduce you while you study?”

“Yes.”

“You’re probably right.” He chuckles, then says, “If you need to get naked to look at art, I certainly won’t complain. But no, Feyre darling, this isn’t a ploy.”

I pause, half stuck on the whole darling thing and half contemplating what to do.

Ploy or not, I know that if I go to his apartment or house or mansion or castle, I’ll probably sleep with him. He’s too attractive, and my resolve just isn’t that great where’s he’s concerned.

Plus, I know it’s insane, but art just... Never mind.

I tell myself nothing’s going to happen and that I’m going because of the art--both lies--as I say, “Okay.”

He extends a hand, and I slide mine into it, almost sighing at how perfect we fit together. Would that be the case everywhere?

Feyre.

I avoid looking at him as he leads me from the room and outside, where a very beefy guy holds open the door to a black sedan. “Seriously?” I ask Rhysand as he ushers me in the back, then climbs in beside me.

“I usually drive myself,” he says in defense, smiling when I roll my eyes.

The city blurs around us as Beefcakes drives, and I’m about to ask where the hell he lives when the car pulls to a stop and the door opens. Climbing out, I look up at the black, shiny penthouse tower, and say, “Of course you live here.”

It’s expensive and in the city and has a million floors, and I bet he lives at the very tippy top.

He gives me a strange look but pulls me in the lobby, then into an elevator. We shoot up flight after flight till we reach the penthouse, confirming my suspicions.

For what feels like the millionth time, I ask myself why the hell Rhysand’s taken an interest in me. I mean, a year of therapy got me to admit I’m decent looking and all, but I’m... I’m a college student. He’s older and richer and has his life together. Why does he want me?

I don’t have long to contemplate life’s great mysteries because the elevator doors slide open, revealing his apartment, and I become too busy trying to mask my surprise.

I thought the place would be... I don’t know, like him. Sleek. Modern. Luxurious.

And it is, at least that last part. Everything is obviously expensive. But there’s also a homey quality created by a fireplace, plush couches, decorative rugs, tapestries.

It’s burgundy and black and cream, and so unexpected I smile.

I step in and walk automatically toward the huge windows, taking in the view and realizing we’re at the dead center of the city. In all directions, Chicago’s spread out, lights and traffic and Lake Michigan surrounding us.

Even though the place is beyond wonderful, there’s one thing missing.

I turn to Rhysand and raise a brow. “No art?”

“One floor down.”

I have to press my lips together to keep the questions in. One floor down, as in it takes up the whole floor. As in he has a private museum. As in I’m so fucking excited I can hardly walk.

But he seems to be baiting me, seeing how long I’ll last before demanding to be taken down there, so I casually walk around his apartment, taking in all the little details. “It’s more... lived in than I would’ve thought.”

He nods, knowing what I mean even though it was a poor way of explaining it. “I have a few places around the city, but this is the one I prefer.” Nodding to the kitchen, he asks, “Hungry?”

“You cook?” The thought of him covered in flour seems absurd, but we all have our hobbies.

He smiles like I’ve said something funny. “No, but I have takeout menus in there.”

“Hopeless,” I tease, going to the kitchen and opening the fridge like I’m the one who lives here. “I’ll find something.”

I end up finding beer, wine, cheese, and various fruits and vegetables.

Not a lot, but enough to make a charcuterie board, which just so happens to be my specialty. I search for a few minutes before finding a wooden cutting board, then start to assemble whatever snacks I can find.

Cherries and grapes, two types of cheeses, carrots, and crackers fill most of the board, and I fill in gaps with blackberries and chocolate chips I’m surprised he has.

Once it’s completed and visually appealing enough, I slide it over to where he’s seated on a barstool and bow dramatically. “I’m a master cheese plate maker.”

“I see that. Wine?”

Nodding, I reach in the fridge and grab the first bottle I see. Setting it in front of him, I move to the cabinet and get two glasses and an opener.

Rhysand takes the opener and eyes the bottle, lips twitching as he smoothly uncorks it.

“What?” I ask, unable to figure out what’s funny. Was it weird to make a board or something? Surely even rich guys like cheese and crackers, right?

He pours two glasses, shaking his head and silently refusing to let me in on the joke.

Eyes narrowed, I sit next to him and suspiciously take a small sip from my glass. He watches me, probably expecting me to say something about it, so I offer, “It’s good.”

He bites his lip but can’t keep the laugh in at that, so I finally demand, “What?”

“It’s an $800 bottle of wine, Feyre.”

I almost spit it all over him, which would indeed be a shame, because there’s probably $50 in my mouth. Managing to swallow it down, I sputter, “You... you should’ve said something!”

He’s still laughing, but he stops to take a huge swallow and shrug. “I say we drink the whole bottle.”

I put my head in my hands, blushing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I couldn’t care less.” He pries my hands away. “Seriously. I just wanted to tease you.”

Now that, I believe. But I still ask, “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” He smiles, taking another sip. “I keep the really expensive stuff at the townhouse, anyway.”

I roll my eyes and drink some more, somehow trying to taste it better or something now that I know it’s liquid gold. Shifting to put my foot on the stool, I lean across him to grab the platter.

His gaze glides over me slowly, and there’s surprise in his eyes, like he can’t believe I’m sitting in front of him so casually.

It’s probably weird to be so... open around a stranger, but he’s not exactly normal, so I don’t feel any pressure to be, either.

Regardless, it’s a little hard to breathe with him looking at me like that, so to break the tension, I grab a cherry, pull the stem off, and hold it an inch in front of his face.

“Ready?”

His eyes cross and he pushes my hand away so he can actually see what I’m holding. “Ready,” he confirms.”

I stick the stem in my mouth, using a trick I spent three hours teaching myself on a rainy afternoon to tie it in a knot, then pull it out with a victorious grin.

“Very impressive,” he notes, but before I can gloat about my supreme cherry-knotting abilities, he steals the stem and sticks it in his own mouth.

My eyes are wide, but I don’t have time to ask what the hell he’s doing before he pulls it out.

Unknotted.

“Impressive,” I repeat, actually meaning it. “How’d you do that?”

“I’m good with my tongue,” he says immediately, obviously having been lying in wait for the question, and I huff a laugh.

If I called my sisters and told them what I’m going right now, they’d probably try to have me committed. I’m sitting in a billionaire’s penthouse apartment, drinking expensive wine and watching him untie cherry stems with his tongue.

“How was your week?” I ask to get us back in semi-normal territory, grabbing a cracker off the plate.

He answers vaguely and asks me about mine, and just like that, we fall into easy conversation.

It’s honestly strange to me that after one date, we can talk like this. With my ex, it took weeks before I was really comfortable around him, and yet I feel completely at home with Rhysand.

He tells he’s from the south side of Chicago and asks about my hometown, and I it feels natural. It’s just... easy.

“By the way, you can just call me Rhys,” he tells me as we finish off the platter. “Using my full name reminds me of when I got in trouble in grade school.”

I drain my wine glass, a slight buzz in my veins, and ask, “So I only call you Rhysand when I’m about to spank you?”

He howls with laughter, then surprises me by asking, “What’s your middle name?”

“Adalene. Why?”

“Just trying to figure out what I’ll call you when we get around to spanking.” I blush as he continues, “Feyre Adalene should do.”

He puts the empty wine bottle in the trash and runs a finger over my red cheek. I bat it away, embarrassed, but he just laughs and asks, “Ready to go downstairs?”

For some reason, I get a little nervous, but I put on my big girl pants and nod, taking his hand when he offers it.

Then we’re back in the elevator, coasting down a floor, and just before the doors open, he says, “Close your eyes.”

Anticipation makes it difficult to follow the request but I manage, and he guides me out of the elevator and turns me slightly. “Open.”

I open my eyes and come face to face with something I never thought I’d see.

“You... you have a...” I whisper, not quite able to get the word out.

“Meule.”

One of eight left in private collectors hands, Monet’s Meules--or Grainstacks--are some of the most recognizable, renown works of art in the world. The last was sold four years ago for over $80 million.

Amren Valenta is a very, very rich woman, according to her art collection.

I’m standing inches from it now, mildly unsure of how that happened, looking at the sunset colors bleed into the shadows of the grain, taking in the easy lines and brushwork.

Turning to look at him, I see he’s leaned against the wall next to the painting, head tilted as if I’m the most interesting thing in the room.

“I can’t believe I’m here right now,” I say honestly, my voice airy and light.

He just smiles and motions to my right. “The collection goes in a loop.”

I nod, and after a few more minutes staring at the Monet, I start to walk.

Or more like mosey.

If he’s irritated with how long I’m taking, he doesn’t mention it. He follows me as I stare after pieces of art I never dreamed of being close to. Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Klimt, Pollock, Munch.

And then, at the edge of my peripheral, I see it.

Dancers in Pink hangs besides a smaller Degas, but it’s all I can look at. The dancer’s skirts are so bright in person, the tulle layers seeming to come off the canvas. The gold in the background is vibrant and metallic, in sharp contrast with the dark wall it hangs on.

Gods, it’s beautiful.

I know there are more famous paintings in here, but I’ve spent three years going to look at Dancers in Blue, never imagining I’d see one a similar work.

Tears slide down my face and a laugh bubbles out of me, the two reactions complete opposites but both somehow feeling right.

Strong arms wrap around my waist, and I feel Rhysand’s chin settle on my shoulder as he hugs me from behind. “You know,” he whispers, seeming to not want to disrupt my moment with loud noises, “I never understood how important this is to people.”

“Oh, Rhysand. It’s... wonderful.”

It’s an inadequate way to say what I want to say, but it’s all I can come up with at the moment. I lean into him, and we stand like that, me staring at the painting, him at me, for a long while.

When I start to get tired, I turn in his embrace, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and kiss him softly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I somehow finish the loop, and by the time we’re in the elevator again, I’m so emotionally spent I can’t hardly breathe.

“Inspired?” he questions, linking our hands and pulling me closer to his side.

I nod, but inspired doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m grateful and overwhelmed and so happy I could burst.

A professor once told me that art is a gift that lasts forever and never stops giving, and I never really understood what she meant until now. Over a hundred years after Dancers in Pink was completed, it still brings people to tears.

It’s a powerful and beautiful and eternal way to send a message, and it makes me feel like a small piece of the puzzle, but at the same time, so important and alive.

We glide smoothly back up to his apartment, but neither of us move once the doors ding open.

Because technically, there’s no longer a reason for me to be here.

I’ve seen the art, drank his expensive wine. I should get my bag and go.

I should... but I don’t want to.

Rhysand’s perfectly quiet and still beside me, patiently waiting for me to make up my mind.

The angel on my shoulder tells me how sweet and considerate he’s being. The devil tells me to reward this behavior with a few sinful ideas.

Running a hand through my hair, I debate my options. Be smart and leave, or stay and try and fight the urge to throw myself at him.

“Oh, fuck it,” I mutter, dramatically taking a step forward like I’m going into war.

He laughs as he follows me off the elevator, strolling back to the kitchen. “More wine?”

I nod, because at this point, I’m already a lost cause. He opens a new bottle and pours me some. “How much was this one?”

“Ten dollars,” he lies, fighting a smile. “On sale at Walmart.”

“I’m surprised you even know what Walmart is,” I laugh, taking my seat back at the bar.

“You forget I’m from the south side. All this,” he motions around us, as he takes the seat next to me. “Used to be nothing more than a dream.”

“How’d you do it?” I ask, genuinely curious. Most people with his kind of wealth were born into it and given every advantage possible. “What’d you do?”

He looks down at the floor, but there’s a sudden set of his jaw, a tightness in his shoulders. “Whatever I had to.”

I don’t point out he’s given me yet another non-answer. Instead I say simply, “I find working for something makes you value it more, anyway.”

His eyes find me again, and there’s something I can’t read in his gaze. “Yes, it does. And it makes you do whatever it takes to keep it.”

I swallow and nod slowly, trying to figure out what exactly he means.

He takes a deep breath, then drinks the wine in his glass in a single swallow. There’s a story there, and it’s easy to see it burdens him, but it’s his to tell in his own time.

Just to get that strain out of his gaze, I switch topics completely. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out how you untied that damn cherry stem.”

Rhysand smiles, a full one that showcases all his pretty little teeth, and leans in, the intent clear in his eyes.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” he whispers.

I press my lips to his and open them immediately--for the lesson, of course--and his tongue meets mine in a slow glide.

Where our first kiss was all heat and drifting hands, this one’s slow and sensual and like ice cream melting on a summer day.

His mouth fits mine perfectly, and his hands seem to be made to hold me, sliding up my thighs to settle on my hips. The hair at his nape is soft against my fingers, and I lean on the stool to get closer and wrap my arms around his neck.

I suck on his tongue, and he makes a low sound, then his hands are tightening and lifting, and I’m being settled on his lap.

Both of us on one stool isn’t ideal, but I wrap my legs around his waist and hope we don’t go crashing over.

Gravity comes into play and I start sliding, so he turns the stool and traps between him and the counter. The granite digs into my spin, but I can’t be bothered to care, because the new position gives his hands freedom to roam again, and he slides them over my thighs, across my ass, up my sides.

His thumbs brush the sides of my breasts, and they become heavy and aching against his chest.

His mouth slowly drags down to my neck, and I sigh as he finds that one spot that drives me crazy. His nips the skin, tongue smoothing the small hurt, and his name slips out of me in a quiet moan.

Everything seems to change at once.

Cursing creatively, he sweeps me into his arms and stands, then walks us into his living room and plops onto a plush couch.

My ADHD kicks in and I’m momentarily distracted by how soft the leather is, but then his tongue runs across the seam of my lip and I snap back into focus.

My hips are churning against him, desperate for some friction, and I kiss him without restraint, abandoning our slow, peaceful rhythm from earlier. I hadn’t realized I’d been working on the buttons of his shirt, but then a band of tan skin is exposed, and I dip my head to press my lips against it.

He tugs my hair to bring my mouth back to his, and I practically attack him, biting his lip and pulling his hair and generally acting like a depraved cavewoman.

He doesn’t complain, though. His hands drag my hips closer, then slip under the hem of my sweater.

The scrape of his callouses on my sides snaps me back to the shocking reality where I’m--yet again--making out with a man I hardly know, and I gasp, then curse, then practically jump backwards off his lap.

Standing in front of him, I put a hand over my mouth like that’ll stop me from using it and look him over.

He’s all sprawling legs and swollen lips and beautiful eyes, and I force my eyes to the ceiling. “You look like a hot, virginal dork I just deflowered in the back of my minivan,” I tell him.

“I feel a bit like that,” he laughs, running a thumb over his bruised lips almost in shock. “Although it’s always nice to be desired.”

I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so distracted by him looking so thoroughly messy.

But I know that despite what just happened, I can’t do this with him yet.

I mean, I definitely could, and it definitely would be enjoyed by all parties involved, but I would regret it.

Rhysand isn’t someone I can just sleep with and forget. I’ve known him a week, and I already feel a strange sort of bond with him.

If we slept together, then never spoke again, it would hurt me more than I’d care to admit.

“I think I should leave.”

He nods like he was expecting this, but asks, “Why?”

Putting my hands on my hips, I repeat what I said earlier. “Working for something makes you value it more, remember?”

He smiles and stands, taking a minute to straighten the clothes I’d pawed out of place.

“It also makes you do whatever it takes to keep it,” he reminds me, a shiver sweeping over me at the words. “Come on; I’ll walk you out.”

We go to the elevator and stay on opposite ends the entire ride down. I’m a little proud, because I most certainly thought about crossing over to his half.

Stepping outside, Rhysand motions for Beefcakes to open the door. “He’ll drive you home.”

“Thank you,” I say, starting towards the car.

I take two whole steps before he’s somehow in front of me, blocking the path. “Two more things.”

He kisses me, gently but firmly, then pulls back and slips a piece of paper in my hand. “It’s your turn to send smoke signals.”

I look down at the paper and see a number written in a slashing scrawl, intelligently putting together that it’s his phone number. I look back up to respond, but he’s already back at the entrance to the building.

Rhysand looks over his shoulder, winks, and disappears inside.

I get in the SUV and tell Beefcakes my address, and off we go. I study the piece of paper the entire way there, mind reeling with everything that happened today.

The easy conversation, the art, the kiss.

Is this how it feels to be swept off your feet?

And how long, exactly, do I have to wait before calling him?

________________________________________________

This took me so long to edit holy FUCK. Part 3

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @elorcan-trash @emikadreams @alpha-omegas @joyceortiz13 @sapphic-beauty @meowsekai @ahappyhistorianreader

#feyre #feysand #feysand fanfiction #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #feyre archeron

169 notes · View notes

tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 3 years

Text

Trouble, Trouble (Part 2) | Javier Peña x Murphy!reader

Summary: You’re Steve’s little sister and show up to Columbia for a visit. You catch a certain DEA agent’s eye.

A/N: I’m so sorry for the delay. I haven’t felt like writing and there’s been a lot going on at home. I finally got to writing this and I hope you all like it. It’s been a while since I’ve watched an episode of Narcos, so if i’m a little off character, apologies. Also, please ignore any grammatical errors. I read over it like three times but sometimes errors get through. Hope y’all like it! xx

!! It’s got some flashbacks in the beginning that might be triggering, so proceed with caution. !!

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS (@ithinkwehitametaphor - owner is listed below the bottom of the gif)

You’d met Tony at one of the nightclubs in Miami. You were working as one of the entertainers for some extra cash when he’d took a liking to you. He started coming in every couple of days, making sure to leave a good tip for you. You hadn’t thought much of the cash. Cash was cash at this point and it was more than enough to cover your debts. However, Tony had come back a month later with a new group of guys, this time cocaine under their belts, which at the time you had no idea about.

Tony cornered you one night and asked about you wanting to make extra cash. Again, cash was cash and you were naïve. Your instincts should have been better considering who your brother was. You were to take the boxes which were to be delivered every Friday to other night clubs surrounding the Miami area. Rule was, no looking in the boxes. Just deliver them to the night clubs and leave it with the bouncer. You figured it was easy enough.

However, two months in, 8 deliveries total, you became brave and curious. What was this guy getting you to deliver? Why was it so secretive? Where was he getting the cash to pay you every week, especially the large sum that was delivered to you the next night after a delivery was completed. These are questions you probably should have asked yourself before getting into this situation, but again, you were naïve. You peeked into one of the boxes one night and there wrapped inside was cocaine. You knew right away, you were dealing with a drug cartel and there was no escaping now. The next night when you saw Tony, you told him you didn’t want to do deliveries anymore.

“You don’t want to do deliveries no more?” He’d asked you with a cigarette between his lips. It was you, Tony and two other guys in a private room. He never came without backup. Yeah, Steve had taught you self defense, but to take on three guys, who were all carrying guns? That was a death wish.

You shook your head, “N-no.. I.. I want to work here on Friday nights again.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, flicking the cigarette against the ash tray and bringing the cigarette to his lips again, “You stop making deliveries when I tell you to.” He stood and took a step closer.

However, when you stepped back, your back hit the chests of the two men. You gulped as you stared up into his dark and soulless eyes, “I just.. I miss my girls on Friday’s you know?”

He stared at you for a few moments before he gave a signal to his boys. The two men grabbed you by the arms and held you against them as Tony lifted part of your skirt and pressed the cigarette but into your skin and burning a small hole into your thigh. You’d cried and screamed against one of the man’s hands.

Tony gripped you by the chin and made you look at him, “You’re in this now, chica. There’s no escaping. You do deliveries until I tell you stop. You understand me?”

You whimpered against the man’s hands and as he dropped it so you could answer, Tony’s fingers gripped your chin even harder, “I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes.” You whimpered. The men’s grip on you loosened and you fell to your knees in a sobbing mess.

He had not been stupid. He knew you’d looked into those boxes. He also knew you were too scared to say anything. Especially when he personally delivered a note to your door that threatened to kill your family and that he knew you’d seen the deliveries. However, you were smart. You worked under a different name and he had no idea who you truly were. It was an empty threat.

You spoke to Steve a few days later during one of your routine checkup calls and you’d mentioned coming to visit. That’s when he told you no; Columbia wasn’t a safe place for you. However, you figured it safer than having to face Tony again. At least you would be with your brother. He could protect you right? Or would you be making a mistake and bringing danger to him?

“Please tell me there’s coffee.” You mumble out as you walk into the kitchen.

“Geez, you look rough.” Steve snickers into his mug.

You flip him the finger and make a face at him, “asshole.”

“Here is a cup and creamer is in the fridge.”

You gratefully take the coffee mug from Connie, “You’re a saint.”

A knock sounded on the door. “Probably Peña.” Steve comments before calling out toward the door, “Come in!”

“I smell coffee.” Javier says as he walks into the kitchen, slipping passed you he takes in your messy hair. You hadn’t slept well at all last night. “Damn, you look rough.”

Your mouth is agape as you stare at him. The balls on this guy, “Yeah well, so does that mustache you’re trying to grow.” You bump shoulders with him as you stalk passed him.

He holds a hand to his heart, “Ouch.” Connie and Steve can’t help but chuckle at the jab. He proceeds to make his coffee, “You want a ride to the office?” He directs his question to Steve, but you pipe up.

“Oh, can I tag along?”

“it’s not bring your little sister to work day.” Steve answers, “You’re gonna hang out here with Connie. Don’t want you roaming the streets and get lost or something.”

“Uh.. I have work today, remember?” Connie says, pointing at the calendar on the fridge, “it’s been written on the calendar for a week!”

“Damnit.” Steve mutters, “Fuck.”

“I’m not a little kid. I can handle being home alone.”

Javier leans against the counter and sips his coffee, “Why couldn’t she come? We haven’t had a lead in weeks and we’re probably going to be doing paperwork all day anyways.”

You raise your hand into the air, “Um hello, not a child. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Just let him baby you. Makes him feel better.” Connie teases Steve and gives him a kiss, then rounds the counter to give you a hug, “See you guys tonight.”

“I don’t get a hug or kiss?” Javier holds his arms out.

Connie rolls her eyes at his antics and blows him a kiss, “That’s as close as you’re getting to me. There’s no telling what diseases you have.”

The three of you finish your cups of coffee and you stand, “Let me get ready then we can go.”

“Hurry up or we’re gonna be late.” Steve takes the mugs and washes them out as you head to the bathroom to shower.

Javier can’t help himself as he watches you saunter to the bathroom. You can feel his eyes watching you and decide to tease him a little. A little teasing never hurt anyone. Leaving the door cracked, he can see your reflection in the mirror. He leans forward to get a better look around the wall, just in time to see you pull off your shirt and shut the door.

When you arrive at the Embassy, you three walk directly back to Javier and Steve’s desk. “Not too bad.” You comment looking around. You spot their board filled with photos of what you assumed were cartel members. Some had red X’s over their photos, indicating they were dead. There was a column for Columbia and another column for Miami. Your eyes scanned over the different photos.

“We shut down this group last week.” Javier boasts, pointing to the group of men on the left.

You nod, “Connie said Pablo was always one step ahead.”

Javier sighs and leans back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah. The fucker is quick. I think we’re getting close though.” He points to the right side of the board, where Miami column was located, “Found out a few members are working in Miami.”

Your breath catches when you see his photo pinned to the board.

“His name is Tony. From what we know, he’s the one who delivers the cocaine to various clubs around Miami.” He could tell by the look on your face something was wrong.

Your face had gone pale, like you’d seen a ghost. You knew he was in the drug cartel, selling cocaine, but what you didn’t know was he was working alongside Pablo Escobar.

“Hey, are you okay?” Javier takes a step toward you and gently grabs your elbow.

You gulp and nod, trying to shake it off, “yeah yeah.. I’m fine.” You definitely were not fine. You were in trouble.

Narcos tag list: @neymarlionelmessi7 , @weirdowithnobeardo , @1950schick , @xremember-me-notx

*if your name is crossed out, tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you.

135 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines · 3 years

Text

Please.

Fandom: Friday the Thirteenth

Pairing: Jason X Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship, non-con (not graphic, just mentioned), murder (of course).

Summary: Jason was ready to kill, but then he met her.

Words: 1.7k

Camp Crystal Lake, the supposedly cursed lake, that’s where Y/N and her friends were currently headed. Not that she wanted to of course, her supposed friends, along with her boyfriend, often forced her to do things she didn’t want too.

They were around half a mile away from Damons, Y/N’s boyfriend, cabin that resided close to the camp. The five of them had never been there before, except Damon, and they were all excited; all except Y/N that is.

She couldn’t deny the fact that the place was beautiful, it was very beautiful, but she didn’t want to be here. Had it not been for the fact she had been threatened into it, she wouldn’t have come.

Damon was incredibly toxic, along with his three friends that she had been introduced to after their first date. He started off kind, but soon turned into a toxic piece of shit, to put it politely. He would often force her into doing things through threats of telling people secrets about her that she had trusted him with before he became toxic. She went from liking him a lot, to hating him a lot. A quick change.

“We’re here,” Damon’s voice sounded, striking a feeling of hatred in his girlfriend’s chest, “isn’t it amazing.” He said, signaling towards the cabin as he did so.

Narcissist too.

The rest of the group cheered in agreement, all except Y/N.

She watched as the other four clambered out of the van, waiting for them all to rush up to the cabin before following.

Jason was aware of the intruders the second they arrived. His body filled with uncontrollable rage, hand gripping his machete tighter than ever before.

He had been having a good day.

He knew what he had to do, and how he was going to do it.

“Babe,” Damon speaking ripped Y/N from her thoughts, “why aren’t you laughing?”

The two of them were currently seated on the porch outside, legs dangling over the edge.

“Huh?” She asked quietly, “What do you mean?”

Damon let out a deep sigh, “I mean I’ve been talking for the past ten minutes and you haven’t even responded.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was merely a whisper, being genuinely afraid of his reaction.

She heard Damon climb to his feet, not daring to look up at him.

“Whatever.” He spat, turning and walking away back inside to his friends.

She merely sighed.

Jason watched from outside the cabin as night-time grew closer.

He stared through the open windows as two of the group were drinking, the other two making out on the couch which simply made his grip on the machete tighten, anger rising up to his chest.

He was ready.

Y/N was still seated on the porch outside, this time nursing a bottle of alcohol, something that she rarely drank. She usually only drank when she was depressed.

Her Y/E/C eyes glanced up at the moon as she recalled all the good memories she had with Damon, tears filling her eyes as she did so. Closing her eyes, she did her best to conceal her sadness, not wanting to show weakness as she knew that he would take advantage of her sadness. That was something he did a lot.

She just wanted it to end; she needed it to end.

Jason observed the cabin once again, waiting for somebody to leave the building so that he could start his killing spree.

That was when he spotted her.

A Y/H/C-haired girl sitting alone outside. She was holding an alcoholic beverage tightly in her hand, something that disgusted him. As he observed her closer, it seemed as though she felt the same way he did about alcohol, face pulling into one of disgust when she took a sip, clearly not enjoying the taste.

Then why is she drinking it?

His thoughts wouldn’t be answered of course.

He was going to kill her. He was going to kill them all.

Or so he thought.

It was around 11pm when Damon’s girlfriend finally joined the party.

Everyone was drunk by now, dancing wildly as they continued to drink.

Y/N wasn’t though, she had only had one bottle and that wasn’t very strong. She was completely sober.

“Hey babe,” Damon reeked of alcohol, making her cringe, “where’ve you been?”

“Out.” Her words were quiet, something that happened often around him.

“Want a drink?” He asked, shoving another bottle in front of her face, basically demanding that she takes it.

“No, thank you.”

“Take it.” He spat, tightly gripping her hand, and forcing the drink into it, lifting it to her lips making her gulp.

It wasn’t long before his first victim left the cabin.

He was heading towards a small shack down from the cabin, by the river.

Jason observed the tall man as he entered the shack, searching for whatever it was he was after. Jason followed him, being as silent as possible despite his tall figure that lead to him nearly headbutting the doorway.

The victim found what he was looking for: more alcohol.

As he turned to leave the shack, the door slammed shut causing dust to fall onto both Jason and the unnamed man as it did so.

“Who’s there?” Jason cringed at the high-pitched voice which almost hurt his eardrums.

It was clear he was scared.

“C’mon, Damon.” His voice shook, “This isn’t funny man.”

Jason walked towards him, footsteps echoing throughout the small room.

“D-dude st-“his sentence was cut short with a scream as the killer shoved him against the wall, lifting him from his feet using the grip had around his neck.

He simply stabbed him, ignoring the desperate pleads for Jason the release his tight grip.

Y/N stood silently in the corner, witnessing her boyfriend flirt with his friend.

His hand was placed on her shoulder, his free hand holding a bottle of beer which he placed against the blondes’ wine glass, both raising their drinks to their lips quickly afterwards. She watched as the other girl laughed at, what she assumed to be, Damon’s joke.

It’s probably shit.

A sigh left Y/N’s lips as she noticed him lean down to the girls’ ear, whispering something that she couldn’t hear. She knew what it was, however. An invitation to join him in the upstairs bedroom. But the girl refused, shocking both Damon and his girlfriend. The taller boy simply nodded, stalking back towards the girlfriend that he had forgot he had, or simply didn’t care that he had.

“You okay?” Damon’s words were slurred as he pulled her tightly against his body, hands travelling down her back before reaching her ass, groping it much to the owners’ dismay.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She gulped, trying to remove herself from his grip but the hold he had on her was too tight.

“Let’s go upstairs,” his words were demanding, leaving no room for refusal, “now.”

She simply nodded.

Jason finished up with another victim, dragging their body to his own cabin to use later.

He stalked back up to the cabin where he knew his last two victims were residing. He noticed that the upstairs light was on, lifting himself with ease to reach the platform beneath the open window of the room.

A male’s moan was the first thing he heard, shortly followed by some filthy and degrading words through another moan. He noticed that the other person wasn’t responding and, as he looked through the window, he saw that her body was stiff.

He dropped through the window, finding it comical when the man quickly moved from his position on top of her to face the killer.

“What the fuck?!” He screamed, jumping from the bed despite his naked form.

The girl remained on the bed, seemingly frozen in shock as she watched the masked man force Damon against the wall, pinning his body to it with his machete before turning to his final victim, ignoring the blood that was dripping onto his feet.

“Please…” He expected her to beg for mercy, beg for him to not hurt her, but her response left him shocked. “Please kill me.” Tears leaked from her eyes as she begged him to end her life.

Jason hesitated, noticing how she had moved towards him, moving her hand to grip his last machete before placing it in his hand which she then lifted to hold the weapon to her chest. He was about to push it through her chest when his mother’s voice stopped him.

“Save her, Jason. Don’t hurt her.”

That was enough to prevent him ending her life, dropping his arm to his side.

The girl in front of him let out a sob at the realisation that she was still alive and it placed a heavy feeling in Jason’s chest, something he didn’t like.

“P-please!” Her voice was strained, and he assumed that she was trying to not completely break down, “Please kill me, I don’t want to be alive.” Her words trailed off gradually as she spoke, eyes casted downwards as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Jason shook his head, despite knowing that she couldn’t see him.

“W-why not?” She asked quietly, glancing up at the taller man.

“Comfort her.” His mother spoke again.

Jason did what his mother said, sitting beside the girl whilst making sure that she was unable to reach his weapon in case she tried.

He wrapped his arm around her, doing his best to unstiffen his body. He was, once again, shocked as she leant into him, beginning to sob into his shoulder.

“Please.” She whispered, tears soaking his jacket. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The dead body of the man causing her pain behind them was forgotten, Y/N relishing in the killers’ gentle touch, gentleness being something foreign to her. Even though he was tense, she still appreciated the man’s gesture and attempt at comforting her.

Jason shook his head, releasing her from his arm to stand up.

She watched as he held out a hand to the seated girl, one she gladly took and stood beside him. She felt an odd sensation in her chest as he led her outside of the cabin, leaving the body behind as she was taken to his cabin. The cabin where she would learn true happiness, where she would learn true love.

(Kinda wanna write another part on this to show their relationship grow, but I don’t know.)

138 notes · View notes

winterwallacehenderson · 3 years

Text

|Illicit Affair- Luke Patterson x Reader|

|Pairing|- Luke Patterson x reader

|Warning|- Swearing, toxic household, mentions of sexual abuse and su!cide (let me know if I should add thing else)

|Word Count|- 1600

|Summary|- Luke and the reader are in an illicit affair. However, when Luke sees her dancing with the man her family chose for her, things t=in their relationship change.

|a/n|- hi hi hi! Okay, first off, how are y’all??? Also, I’m so sorry for not posting for so long. This is based off Illicit Affair by Taylor Swift (I would totally recommend listening to it while reading this). I’m really proud of this and I hope y’all like it. until then, stay safe and drink water!!

I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him for one last kiss of the night. “Pull you hood over, keep your eyes down, make sure no one is around and if anyone asks you where you've been, just tell them you were-”

“Out for a run, I remember love”, Luke finished my sentence, before grinning and kissing me on the cheek. He gave me one last smile, a sense of longing already seeping in his eyes. He jumped out of my bedroom window and made his way back home. I hope he takes the 7th avenue, it’s the road least travelled by.

I made my way back to my room and stood there taking it all in. The remnants of our clandestine meetings still fresh, the soft wrinkles on my pillow where Luke laid.

I tidied up my room and sprayed myself with some of Luke’s perfume. It was the only explanation I had when my father asked me why I smelled different. I told him I brought new perfume which smelled like vanilla and apples. Sounds weird but it's probably the most beautiful smell in the world for me. Plus, Luke likes it when I smell like him. Reminds him of the long nights he usually spends in my room. There was a knock on their door. I quickly patted down my untamed hair, and opened the door. There stood Lydia, my maid and friend. Growing up in such a prestigious household came with many drawbacks. One of them being that I couldn't choose my own friends. Or make any decisions of my life. As a woman, my upbringing consisted of learning how to do all of the housework and be the perfect wife for my husband. I knew I never would have a shot at love or to marry someone I liked at my own will. My husband would be chosen for me, it would be a deal for the fortune of our either families. I realised Lydia had been standing there for a while. I nodded at her, signalling she had my attention. “Miss-”

“Lydia, I’ve told you before. Please call me Y/N”, I interrupted her.

“My apologies Miss Y/N. I came here to inform you, you have a meeting with a potential suitor tomorrow evening at the Princeton’s party. Your mother has asked you to be on your best behaviour and present yourself accordingly, not like you don't already do that”, Lydia finished her sentence in a small mocking tone, erupting a laugh from me. “Thank you for informing me Lydia. Tell my mother I shall behave as she wished for me to”. Lydia gave me a smile and left the room. I lay on my bed, the scent of Luke’s perfume surrounded me. It felt so real almost like he was here with me. I closed my eyes and drifted off to my dreams filled with a beautiful, talented, man who had the prettiest hazel eyes.

The Princeton’s party was beautiful as always. They had the most beautiful house and the couple themselves were hilarious and welcoming. Apart from this, they were so painfully in love, even after years of marriage, it filled me with a longing feeling, I wondered if Luke could ever be like this.

Dressed in a soft blue ball gown, I tucked my hand in my brother’s arm as we made our way to the suitor’s family. As we passed the group of musicians hired for the party, my eyes fell on the lead singer.

Luke....

He stood there, looking more beautiful than ever. It's almost like he gets more handsome every time we meet. His eyes locked with mine and he gave me a subtle wink. My cheeks flared at his gesture and I averted my gaze to the man in front of me. He looked me up and making, an action that usually makes me blush when done by Luke but this man just made me feel uncomfortable and disgusted. His red hair gelled to give him a sleek look and his green eyes had a glint of lust. I lowered my gaze to the floor, in hopes for this to get over as soon as possible and I could go back to Luke. “Y/N this is Mr Williamson and his son James.” Right on que, a slow song came up and Luke’s vice filled the room. “Oh my, what a perfect timing! “My mother squealed, “Y/N why don't you and James go have a dance, maybe get to know each other a bit?” I looked at my mother and back at James, who had his hand extended towards me. I quickly stole a glance at Luke who was intently starting at James and I. I placed my hands over his and he walked us over to the dance floor. He placed his hand on my waist, dangerously close to my butt. I placed my hand on his shoulder, keeping my eyes down casted. “So Y/N, have you ever been with anyone?”, my eyes shot up at his question. No, he can't know. No one can. I shook my head no and James smirked . “Good so I know that you're a virgin now. I can't wait to have my way with you”, his hands brushed my butt and a gasp escaped from my mouth. I looked around to see if anyone heard the exchange between me and James. My eyes fell on Luke who was glaring at James. If looks could kill James would most definitely drop dead at this instance. Luke’s gaze switched over to mine, the same glare now directed towards me. I furrowed my eyebrows. Why was he mad at me? . He reached the end of the song and whispered something to the dark hair boy next to him. Luke spared one last hard glance at me and rushed out of the room. I quickly detached myself from James by saying I had a bathroom emergency. I followed the path Luke had taken out to a scheduled garden, away from the party. I spotted him at a far corner by a stone wall, his head placed on the cool wall. His shoulders were slightly trembling, almost like he was crying. A twig snapped beneath my foot and his shoulders stiffen. He quickly turned around, a cold hard look glazing over his eyes. “Baby-”, I started off but was cut off my Luke's booming voice “DON'T CALL ME THAT! You don’t have a fucking right to. Not anymore. I actually thought you loved it. I thought you cared for me. But you only care about yourself. All you wanted was a good fuck. But look what you did. Look at me y/n! Look at this godforsaken mess you've made me!”, Luke spoke, tears slowly streaming down his face. “Love no listen to- '', I started but he cut me off again, “I SAID DON'T CALL ME THAT. ITS LUKE JUST LUKE FOR YOU! I saw you and that preppy boy flirting. Hell the two of you were so close, yawl might as well have kissed in front of me. I saw the way you flushed when he touched you, and flirted with you. I feel like a fucking idiotic fool”, Luke chuckled to himself, sarcastically, “ I actually thought we could happen. That we would have a future. That our secret language was only spoken by us. But turns out you don't. Was any of that real? Did any part of us mean anything to you-” I couldn't take it anymore. His misunderstanding was causing me pain. A lot of pain. He actually thought I didn't mean any of that, when the moments I spent with him were the ones that kept me going.

“Y/N did you ever even love me?”

“LUKE SHUT UP. JUST SHUT UP. YES I LOVED YOU. HELL I STILL FUCKING AM IN LOVE WITH YOU. AND I WILL BE FOREVER. YOU HAVE KNOW RIGHT TO ASK ME THIS WHEN YOU KNOW DAMN FUCKING WELL THAT I WOULD RUIN MYSELF FOR YOU.”, I yelled. I never raised my voice at anyone but I couldn't watch the love of my life walk away because I was too afraid to speak up. Luke stared at one dumbfounded. He knew I never swore nor did I ever raise my voice.

“W-what?”, he said after he found his voice.

“I would ruin myself for you, Luke Patterson. Not once. Not twice. A million fucking times I would.”, I replied, my voice cracking at the end.

I took a step close to him, and held his hand. “Luke, I know it's difficult. I know my family won't ever accept you. Accept us. But I don't care. I don't care what they think. You're all that matters for me. Yeah everyone will talk. They'll talk about it for what a day? Month? Then they'll find another topic to gossip about and we will be history. And I am ready for that. I'm ready for the whispers, the taunts. I'm ready to face anything as long as I get to wake up in the same bed with your arms wrapped around me. I'm ready for us”, I cupped his cheek, wiping a tear with my thumb. “I'm ready too. I'll always be ready for you. God, I love you. No scratch that. I'm in love with you. Not just love, IN love”, Luke said cracking a watery grin at the end. “I'm in love with you too Luke Patterson”, I smiled, placing my forehead against his. And in that moment I knew, illicit affair or not, we will always love each other.

62 notes · View notes

secret-engima · 3 years

Note

This. Has been a perfectly terrible day. Can I beg you for a ficbit or a snippet from one of your works, like Team Gremlin or Noctscar or something ? I just - they’re beautiful, and I just really, really need something beautiful right now.

SURE. I don’t have much in the way of snippets, but lemme see what I can find. I might have to throw in something from BNHA cause that’s the fandom the muses are chewing on this exact second.

...

Team Gremlin:

It had been … a very bad few weeks for Qrow all told. And that was saying something. Everything had seemed fine one day, business as usual. Tai was back from his requisite number of missions to keep his license and teaching at Signal again —which he genuinely seemed to enjoy for some reason—, his nieces were as adorable as ever, and Summer was sometimes talking his ear off about maybe taking a teaching position somewhere herself after running a few missions to keep her own license active —she’d been busier lately with the girls than running around kicking butt, but it wasn’t like Qrow blamed her for that—.

Then Leo was found dead in his office. Knifed in the neck, one round discharged from his weapon in the direction of the guest couch, blood pooling all over the chair and low table where the investigators said he’d been dragged from and laid on the floor in some kind of pose. No one unusual had been seen going in or out, there had been nothing on the office cameras —covered by a Semblance of some kind, it was decided, because of the fading, glass-like Aura shards on the floor—. The only warning had been the sound of Leo’s single shot before he died. Qrow had arrived as soon as he could to help investigate, since the primary suspect would … not be one the police even knew to look for. He had helped Dyna —poor woman had been wire tense with rage rather than her usual calm self, and it was no wonder—, search for clues the police would miss, then searched the secret tunnels for good measure.

They had found a Grimm inside one of the deeper antechambers, far too deep to have gotten there by accident, a strange, jellyfish like beast that had been surprisingly hard to kill for something that small. They’d never seen it’s like before, and the thought of it being under the school, where kids were, where Oz and his inner circle were supposed to hold sway-. He’d never seen the otter Faunus more furious as they stood amid the fading Dark dust, her lips twisted, brow wrinkled in a way that had made the black line and red dots of her old bandit tattoos look more pronounced.

They’d found no other signs that Salem knew how to get into the school tunnels, but they rechecked them all and trapped several of the ones leading outward as temporary security measures. With Dyna in place as the new —temporary on paper but soon to be permanent— Headmaster, Qrow had gathered up what evidence they could pry loose from their police contacts and gone back to Oz so they could try to sort this out.

Of course, Qrow’s first impulse was to blame Salem, but Oz had listened to the report of a jellyfish Grimm under the school and his expression had folded into something pained. Knowing. He must have known what kind of Grimm it was, but hadn’t elaborated yet, just told Dyna to investigate all of Leo’s documents, Scroll calls, and communications over the past year, and insisted he would not explain until there was either evidence or not for his theory, for fear of making them biased.

So, with Salem seemingly not the automatic culprit, they had started hunting for info. Summer had offered to come back and help, but Oz had told her to stay on her chosen mission instead.

The pen had been an unexpected complication.

...

Always I Dreamed verse

Summer ducked past her into the shower as Raven left it, pausing to stare at Raven’s tattoos for only a moment before chirping a quiet good morning and asking if she was okay after yesterday. Raven just grunted, because she was combat functional and frankly that was all that mattered. She had already pulled on her clothes from yesterday —all their possessions were in her inventory and she didn’t want questions on where it came from, she’d have to stuff it all in a duffel bag and hide it in the den to explain that away later— by the time Taiyang got up and Raven remembered the uniforms. Raven nudged open the bag while Qrow ducked out of their den and peered over her shoulder, “Everybody has to wear that stuff?” Qrow sneered as Raven pulled out the first button down shirt, “Hardly looks sturdy.”

“It’s just for the school grounds I think, we have our combat gear for training missions and stuff anyway.” Taiyang said as he pulled out a shirt of his own from a different bag. Raven took a moment to glance at his bare torso. He slept in pants but not a shirt apparently, which was stupid, but better than being entirely naked at night. He had a decent build, which she knew from watching him fight yesterday, and a truly appalling lack of scars. Her life had been saved by somebody who had probably never had a truly decent fight in his life before that day. Wonderful.

He also had tattoos, and Raven squinted at them for a moment because despite the differing size and placement, they all looked very much like the ones Raven and Qrow had gotten during a rare moment of total drunkenness at fifteen. He was missing the large asian dragon outline that wound up Raven’s own torso, but he had the blue crow perched as if about to take flight that Raven had, the running blue wolf who’s lower half dissolved into petals, and she thought she glimpsed a blue clockwork rabbit under his right arm. When he turned around briefly to put his back to them, she saw that most of his back had been taken up with the stylized outline of a raven in flight.

She shook her head and looked away. Whatever. Summer possessed a tattoo on her arm similar to the asian dragon winding up Qrow’s arm from elbow to shoulder. Some tattoos were just popular, and blue ink was easier to come by for fill-in tattoos than the black used for outlines.

Qrow must have remembered Taiyang’s words last night about Raven’s uniform being at the top, because he was already rooting down to the outfit right beneath hers —there was more fabric in the bag than that, but Raven wasn’t going to worry about why just yet—. He yanked out a shirt and jacket that looked his size, then blinked when something short and plaid tumbled out with it. Snatching it up, he unfolded it and made a face, “Is this a skirt? With my uniform?”

Summer poked her head out of the bathroom, a wash of steam following her —oh right, hot water showers were a thing, darn— while Taiyang looked from Qrow to the skirt and back. Qrow was busy staring at the skirt, so he missed the expression of pure glee that flickered over the other teen’s face before he casually said, “What, that? It’s a kilt, man. Old Vale tradition.” Raven blinked very slowly, because that was a surprisingly good lie even though she knew it was nonsense —her memory on early canon was fuzzy, but she would have remembered the male characters running around in skirts—. She debated calling him on it for a moment, but she was from outside the kingdoms like Qrow, so technically she had no way to know that Taiyang was lying.

Besides, if Taiyang wanted to poke the bear that was her brother’s temper, better he do it now and get it over with than later when they were training.

Qrow was still making annoyed noises under his breath as he examined the “kilt”, and a glance at Summer slipping out of the shower in a towel showed she was fighting down laughter. Silver eyes met Raven’s with hopeful amusement and Raven looked away. She was still angry that the Story had forced itself into place in her life. With a shake of her head, Raven finished yanking out her uniform —one of? There was so much fabric in there, did the school really waste money making multiple outfits for each student?— and started pulling off her old clothes to put it on. Taiyang made a noise like someone had knifed him just as she dropped her shirt to the floor and she looked up in alarm. Taiyang had whipped around to put his back to her, and she could see the flush of color crawling up his neck and the backs of his ears. He didn’t look hurt or anything, but when Summer wandered in and dropped her towel onto her bed to put on her uniform —huh, she had the same tattoos as Raven, Qrow, and Taiyang, just with the perched crow as a large outline that went down to her mid back and a large blue raven in flight over her abdomen that looked like the smaller one on Qrow’s back—, Taiyang made the dying noise again, snatched up his bag of clothes, and rushed for the bathroom.

Raven had the feeling she should understand what that was about, but she didn’t get it, and when she risked a glance at Summer, the other girl actually looked just as baffled. So maybe it wasn’t some social thing she’d forgotten. Maybe it was just a thing with him specifically.

...

Feather-Light and Fire-Bright verse (BNHA)

Which was why, the next time she spotted a little red feather slinking over to place a trio of shiny buttons on the park bench she liked best, she hastily caught it with one hand. It was very soft, wiggling slightly in her grip, twitching and fluttering almost like a frightened living thing, so much so she shushed it gently on instinct, “It’s okay, I won’t damage you.” Taking out the note she’d spent days agonizing over, she skewered it to the quill of the feather, “I need you to take a message to whoever controls you.” She let it go and the feather wiggled erratically in the air, like a cat trying to wiggle free of an unfamiliar collar before flitting away. Fuyumi resisted the urge to chase it and see where it led. She’d sent her note, now she would wait for a reaction.

She absently took the three coat buttons and put them in her pocket before going home. It would be stupid to leave them as litter in the park, but it also felt like a bad idea to throw them away and possibly anger whoever was watching her. Besides, she had a collection going now, she almost had enough matching buttons to make a full set for a long coat.

A week went by with no sign of her shadow before she finally spotted a red feather again. It lurked on the edges of the park, flitting out into view as she walked by before slipping off in the direction of a more sequestered part of the park. Fuyumi hesitated, saw the feather come back and swirl around her a few times like an excited puppy before rushing off again and decided she was either about to meet someone shy or about to be kidnapped and potentially murdered. Slipping her hand into her handbag to grip the small pro-grade taser inside just in case, Fuyumi followed the feather into the copse of trees that shielded that part of the park from the street and the rest of the grassy area.

The feather slipped away to rejoin … a lot of other feathers, and Fuyumi paused on the edges of the little forested nook to get a good look at her mysterious shadow for the first time. Golden eyes, piercing and almost predatory in intensity, flitted up to meet her gaze as he stood up. He was about her age she would guess, maybe a year older, so lean that if she hadn’t been able to see the muscles of his bare arms she would have called him scrawny. He was wearing a sleeveless hoodie that looked like it had lost a few too many rounds with a washing machine, clean but all faded and stretched and worn looking. His hair was all tousled and pale gold, and the red feathers were clustered on his back in huge wings that looked like they belonged on someone about twice his size and weight. He smiled a little, a practiced thing that was too nervous to be real, but if Fuyumi hadn’t lived her entire life around Pro Heroes and the children of other such elites, she would never had known.

He held up her note between too fingers, not commenting on the wary distance still between them nor making any moves to close it, “Um, I’m not a stalker, just wanna get that out of the way. Sorry if I … came off that way? I’m, uh, not good at introducing myself and I didn’t … really know what else to do.”

#SE asks #hamelin-born asks #snippets #snippet #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Team Gremlin verse #Always I Dreamed verse #Feather Light and Ember Bright verse

35 notes · View notes