Commission for Jen for her in-production AU A Little Patience~ I’m excited cuz in this fic neither Dean or Cas are dom/sub they both like to switch~ In this scene they’re both trying on collars and stuff and Cas is all gung-ho about it like “this has to be perfect, Dean, the best” and Dean’s just like “hnrnrhghrhghhhhhhhhh….” *blushy blushy*
You can’t really tell but the metal bolts on the collar are green~ I think Dean’s having a little bit of a tough time closing that clasp……
Hi babes! I know that it’s been a long time since I posted a writing, and for that, I’m sorry! But, to make it up to you, here’s a supa long oneshot that I really hope you enjoy! Anyways, this is about Tom and a very shy reader, who suffers from slight social anxiety. Tom keeps an eye on her because he knows how uncomfortable she gets in unfamiliar social settings with new people, and the pair begin to fall for each other! They go out to dinner with friends one night, and the reader ends up attracting some very unwanted attention and Tom gets very protective and then feelings happen and ??? I hope you like it!
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and then promptly fixing it back to it’s place directly over her eyes, she fussed about with slightly quaking hands. Gnawing on the inside of her lip, she rocked up and down on the balls of her feet, various unsettling scenarios bouncing through the expanse of her mind. The outlines of all the possibilities at hand were making her head spin. She’d been worried about them since she awoke that morning with the intent of traveling down to her local bookstore, allowing her anxiety to conjure up every alarming response that had the slightest half a chance of occurring.
In the pit of her stomach, fear had poked it’s piercing talons through her skin, dragging up and down and forcing her tummy into knots. All she intended to do was ask a question about a book’s location in the store, but the reaction of the employee she’d be asking was filling her with a sense of dread. The girl understood that it was very likely the storekeeper would even bat an eye, too uninterested into their work to really do anything other than offer their assistance, seeing as she was a paying customer, but she was oh-so very nervous that they’d scoff in her face or roll their eyes. She even wondered if they were allowed to flat-out dismiss her.
Logically, she understood that all of the rudeness she had created in her mind on the bookkeeper’s behalf were very unlikely reactions. But, the fact that they existed and could happen were enough to keep her inside, curled up in bed, staring longingly her shelf of finished novels.
Now, she stood by the guidance desk, busying herself with glancing over the classic book corner of the store after she had forced herself up and out of her front door. Each time she psyched herself up to finally speak to the woman manning the desk, her courage evaporated as soon as someone else sauntered up to the counter to ask their question. The girl was so locked in her feelings of utter hopeless that she barely noticed the boy who wandered over to the opposing side of the bookshelf.
Scrunching up her nose and groaning, she rounded the corner of the shelf to once again glance over the books whose author’s last names began with the letters A-L. She was so focused on forcing herself to speak that she walked straight into the young man’s surprisingly solid chest.
“Shit, fuck, I mean shoot-” with her cheek pressed against his chest, she could feel the british accent rumbling past his lips, “‘’M sorry that I ran into you, and I’m sorry for swearing. Are you alright, love?”
She pried herself away from him and glanced up at him with strawberry-red flushed cheeks, and a bashful gaze, “yeah, no problem, totally on me, not you. Sorry I crashed into you, just wasn’t looking where I was going.” Her eyes flickered across the room, she didn’t want to appear psychotic for staring at him too long or anything like that. So far, she’d observed that the boy was very british, and very cute, which was making her stumble over her words more than she already was.
The boy stared down at the girl in front of him, his brows puckered. She was lovely, and truth be told, he’d seen her circle the shelf about three or four times, and she was biting down on her lip so hard that he was beginning to fret that she’d draw blood. She seemed lost, or scared, either way, something was off with her, he could tell.
“You’re sure?” He questioned, steadying her in place before him, “you look a bit frazzled.” The girl dropped her eyes to floor once more, her cheeks coloring growing darker than before, and he quickly opened his mouth to retract his previous statement, “no, no! I didn’t mean it like that! You’re still disarmingly cute, it’s just that you seem a bit adrift. Do you need anything?”
She opened and shut her mouth, cocked her head to the side and regarded him with the softest voice he’d ever heard, “Just trying to find a book is all, did you really n-,” she started before she cut herself off. She was working herself into a tizzy, first she nearly took a cute boy down, and then he’s complimenting her and asking if she needs anything. The girl was convinced that she could float up into the summer sky’s barely existent clouds and melt into the blue sky forever. Everything felt stupendously surreal.
“Can I help you look or anything?” He offered, snapping her out of her daydream of evaporating into a mist and flitting around town as she pleased, “my name’s Tom.”
Now, she was thoroughly convinced that the entire day was a massively wild reverie. Her mind pieced two and two together, and she became very aware that the boy who stood in front of her was no other than Tom Holland.
“Wow,” she uttered, reaching out to tentatively poke him in the chest, “you’re you.”
Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and giggled, a soft smile stretching across his cheeks. “Yes, that I am. And may I ask who you are?”
She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and stated her name. If it turned out that she was dreaming, she was prepared to accept it wholeheartedly. If Tom Holland decided that he wanted to speak to her, and furthermore assist her in finding her book, than so be it. She was not going to allow herself to muck it all up by saying no, especially when his brown eyes looked so sparkly and kind.
“Now, what is it that we’re looking for?” Tom questioned, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her away from the corner and up to the guest’s assistance desk.
Ever since that afternoon, she and Tom were together, not romantically they claimed, but truly, all that was necessary for the pair’s connection to be deemed romantic was the pair’s confession to one another that they each desired more from their friendship. Tom paid extra attention to her, quickly figuring out that she was painfully shy and teetered away from social situations that frightened her. Tom had made it his mission to check up on her to make sure she was alright and wasn’t being coerced into activities she didn’t wish to partake in.
Tom had fell into the habit of ordering her food for her, asking questions for her at the store and keeping a watchful eye on anyone he felt could cause her harm. He was more than happy to help her, and it fueled his self-esteem when she would smile up at him and thank him for easing her anxiety. That was all Tom ever wanted to do.
In return, she spent a fair amount of time looking after him in less obvious ways. When she felt as though he’d been eating too much takeout and deserved a nice home-cooked meal, she took it upon herself to prepare him one. She learned exactly how he liked his cups of tea, what kind of books he liked to nurture his mind with, and she even knitted Tom a beanie for when he would be away filming somewhere cold. Often times, the girl and Tom stayed up all night talking on the phone, or snuggled up together on the couch in her living room.
“Darling,” Tom called out to her, “are you nearly ready?” He plopped down on the couch and began leafing through one of the novels that she had currently stacked on her coffee table. Tom hadn’t had as much time to read books, seeing as he was going through so many scripts, but he’d always found that her books enthralled him and would gently coax him back into the bookstore. The book he was currently turning over in his hands was a bright, proud, sunshine yellow. It’s title was printed across the page in red, block letters. “‘Sex and Rage?’” Tom smirked, already preparing to tease the girl he was waiting for.
They’d been invited out to dinner with some of his castmates and a few other mutual friends, and the girl was presently rushing around her apartment in search of her favorite lipgloss and her purse.
“I’m almost done, I promise!” Tom heard her muffled response, and then a second later he heard her utter a few choice curse words, prompting him to settle back against the couch because she was clearly not anywhere near being done. He kicked his legs up to balance on her coffee table and opened the novel by Eve Babitz and allowed her to take him all the way back to 1970s Los Angeles.
After about fifteen more minutes, Tom looked up to find her stood in front of him, blushing profusely when she took note of the book in his hands. Raising his brows and grinning boyishly at her, Tom waved the novel her way. “Interesting choice of reading material, innit?”
“I-,” she started, and then proceeded to open and shut her mouth, she chose to mumble, “shut up, Tom. It’s a classic.”
“Yes, yes, love,” Tom said, “sex and rage are quite classic in LA.” Tossing the book back into it’s proper place, Tom skimmed her frame up and down. “You look,” he almost lost his breath. She was clothed in a silky, sheer, polka-dotted dress, the ruffles dipping low and offering him ample view of the expanse of her chest. The dress’s hem was short and her legs looked just as silky soft as the fabric of her dress. Tom longed to press kisses all the way up from her ankles to above where her skirt ended. “Fucking amazing,” he finished, taking one her hands within his own to press a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. He had half a mind to propose they skipped the dinner all together. Tom didn’t want to share the vision of loveliness that she was with anyone else.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she broke away to look directly into his eyes, “you look like every teen’s dream.” She laughed as Tom let out a chuckle underneath his breath. “Are you ready to go?”
Tom stepped closer to her, winding a hand around her waist, “been ready, love. It’s you that I’ve been waiting for.” Which Tom thought was true, to be fair. The only reason that he hadn’t showered her in love and adoration was because he wasn’t absolutely positive that she’d want him too.
Although, she’d allowed him to kiss the back of her hand, and she kissed him on the cheek, what would be so different about Tom leaning down and angling her chin up towards him so he could press his lips against her own? But still, Tom waited. He needed to know that she felt the same for him. Tom refused to allow his feelings for her taint their friendship. He’d done everything he could to try and get her to pick up on his emotions, but he’d observed that they went right over her head. Unluckily for him, everyone else had been made well aware of the love Tom had for her. He prayed up to the high heavens that they’d go easy on them tonight.
After locking up her apartment with his own set of keys, and driving to the restaurant, Tom rushed around the side of the car of yank her door open and help her out. “Careful, m’love,” Tom muttered, taking both her hand and her waist in his hands, “don’t want you to slip.”
“Tom, I’m wearing heels, I’m not injured.” She giggled.
It was Tom’s turn to turn the same shade of red the ripe strawberries she’d given him for breakfast were, “I know, just don’t want you to slip is all.”
Together, they walked into the restaurant, Tom heading over to the hostess’s station to inquire about the whereabouts of their table while she strayed a little behind, choosing to stare at a painting that was hung in the foyer.
“Intricate, isn’t it?” An American male’s voice stated from behind her. When she whipped around to face him, she found that the man in front of her was a bit too close for her liking. So close to her that she felt as though the overbearing cologne the man had covered himself in had sprouted arms and was choking it’s way into her system.
“Yes,” she said, smiling as politely as she could. She peered around the man, trying to spot Tom to no avail.
The girl understood that under no circumstances did she owe this man anything, even a conversation, but she’d grown quickly timid of the way in which he leered over her.
“Waiting for anyone?” The man asked, stepping closer to her and turning his head to the side. When he smiled at her, she didn’t like it. This man’s smile wasn’t warm the same way Tom’s was when he directed it at her, and she could already tell that it wasn’t going to be followed up by a laugh. She knew it was wrong to compare every man that she came into contact with to Tom, but she couldn’t help it. He was everything she wanted and more.
“Uh, yeah, actually. I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” she lied, pink spreading across her cheeks. “He’s just making sure our table is ready.”
The man didn’t seem put off at all when she claimed to be there with her boyfriend, in fact, the smile he wore on his lips curled into a smirk, almost as if to say, “challenge accepted.”
“There you are darling!” Tom called, his brows nearly joining together when he saw the man stood in front of his girl. As he made his way over to them, Tom could practically hear the sigh of relief escape her lungs. Curling a protective arm around her waist, Tom came to a halt behind her and leaned down to pepper her neck with kisses. “Who’s this?”
Before she could even think of a response, the man introduced himself, “Luc. Nice to meet your girl.”
Tom narrowed his eyes, “yeah, my girl is very nice.” He tucked her beneath his arm and began leading her towards the door, offering a hasty, “our table is ready,” the man’s way, not bothering to listen for a response.
“What an absolute wanker,” Tom said loudly, unable to stop himself from saying that he thought so before they walked out of Luc’s hearing range, “alright now, love?” He shook his head and glanced back towards where the man stood, “didn’t like how he was looking at you. What right does he think he has? Fuckhead.”
She merely pressed a kiss to Tom’s jaw, “s’alright now. Don’t worry about it. Thank you for pretending to be my boyfriend, I think he’ll go away now.”
“I’ll be your boyfriend anytime you want.” Tom said, guiding her into the room in which their friends occupied.
After greeting their table, smiling and laughing and talking, the pair barely made it through the appetizers without the man, Luc, quickly becoming an issue once more. They’d learned that he too was apart of a rather large dinner party, so their tables were right smack next to each other. When she spotted Luc coming her way, she shrunk so noticeably back into Tom’s chest that Harrison, who was sat across the table from her, took notice too.
Tom scoffed, “for fuck’s sake. He’ll leave you alone darling, and if not, he and I shall be exchanging words outside.” Tom smoothed her hair down and kissed her temple.
“Well, that’s new.” Harrison stated, eyes blown wide open. “Are you two finally together now?” He asked, his comment quickly peaking the interest of the entire table.
“See,” she heard Laura chime in next to her, “told you they’d be official by now.”
Jacob broke into a grin, “yeah, man! Knew your balls would drop sometime soon!”
She leaned back against Tom’s chest and whispered as quietly as she could, “should we go along with it?” She blinked up at Tom, who’s arm dropped from being wrapped around the back of her chair to securing her further into his side.
“Whatever you-,” his voice trailed off, “you’re joking?” She turned her head and was met with a waiter handing her a drink and pointing Luc’s direction, claiming that he’d bought it for her, and that there was more to come.
Tom pushed his chair out and angled his body towards Luc, “she’s not here with you, mate!”
“Unlikely that she’s here with you either, considering the fact that none of you friends seem to be aware of your relationship.” Luc smirked, tipping his own drink up towards his lips.
“What a tosser,” Harrison proclaimed loudly, already prepared to jump in on his friend’s behalf.
Tom was pulled away from the escalating conversation by an earnest tug on his shirt. “Tom, don’t! It’s not worth it, just ignore it and maybe he’ll go away. He’s trying to start something with you.” She advised, attempting to guide his gaze back to her.
“Bullshit,” Tom mumbled, “like fuck you aren’t worth it! You’re my girl and I’m not going to let him treat you like this.” Anger was seeping into his words and fogging up his mind, so Tom didn’t notice that he’d just uttered a very unfriendly statement her way.
“Tom,” she tried again, “it’s all pretend! It’s fine, just focus on me.”
“No, love. I don’t think you understand,” Tom sighed, focusing his gaze on hers once more. “It’s more than just pretend to me. I want you to be my girl and I feel like I’ve made it all painfully obvious, and you haven’t picked up on it, or reciprocated, or maybe you flat out ignored it. Which is fine, everything about that is fine. It’s just that I care about you and I’m not going to let some fucking dirtbag make you feel uncomfortable.” Tom raked a hand roughly through his hair, “shit,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes, “m’sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable too.”
“Kiss me.” She ordered, ushering Tom closer to her. Taking in his puzzled expression, she added, “kiss me, Tom. For real, please. Kiss me and I’m your girl. For real, not for pretend.”
Tom could hear Luc talking, Harrison retorting and Laura hailing a waiter to ask if there was anything to be done about the seating arrangements, but none of it was clicking in his mind. “What are you saying?”
“Look at me, Tom Holland,” he heard her say sternly. “Don’t let male ego get in the way of this. Don’t look at him, look at me. I wasn’t sure if you were telling me you wanted me, I thought that you were just being nice and you’re too important to me to lose, so I never questioned your intentions. I’m sorry for making you think that I was ignoring you, but I’m not anymore. Please, please kiss me.”
Tom’s head was spinning all across the room. He felt like he was upside down, underwater, sideways and more, but when she finished speaking, his head clicked back into place.
“Please,” she asked softly, tipping her head up towards Tom, who then surged forward, softly stroking over her cheeks and taking the time to carefully align her head with his to create the most perfect of first kisses he would swear anyone in the world had ever had.
A collective gasp fell across the table, and even Luc grumbled a distant, “what the fuck ever, bro. She’s not that cute anyways.”
When the pair broke apart, the first thing Tom could gasp out was, “now you’re my girl,” before quickly swooping down to conjoin their lips once again.
Quick Summary: Bendy, having been living in the human world for the past 30 years, received a note from his creator, and is lured back to his once home. But what will he find there? And will he ever leave again?
Kagami, akashi, aomine, murasakibara, and midorima finding a little girl in the store crying because she's lost her mom and clutching onto their leg for comfort.
Midorima would actually be very caring. He has a younger sister and seeing a little girl crying and clutching on his leg his brother instincts would wake up and would try to calm her down. If he had any chocolate or anything sweet with him, he would give it to her before escorting her to a clerk or a security to explain what happened. He would stay with her until her mother comes and picks her up.
Aomine would be confused because he doesn’t know what to do, but remembering when Momoi held his hand crying while they both lost her mother in a store, he would lean down and ask her if she wants to sit on his shoulders so they can search for her mother quicker. Her mother would be found very quickly and the girl wouldn’t try to leave Aomine.
Murasakibara would be confused because why isn’t she scared of him? Like almost every other child is scared of him so why isn’t she? Despite that, he would give her a snack or two so she would quiet down before lifting her up and start walking around either in circles or every shelf, looking for the girl’s mother. He would be very gentle.
Akashi would try to calm her down with words and compliments, winning her over in seconds like he could make an army of children if he could. They would walk around the store for a while, in the way where the girl remembers and if they don’t find her mother there, they would walk over to security and explain what happened.
Kagami would be confused because he wouldn’t know what to do, so he would act like he thinks is right, act more on his instincts than anything. He would carry her in his arms and talk with her so she would talk more, the conversation could be from and to while walking around the store in search for her mother before they approach security.
“If you come home with another guitar from that ruddy shop, I’m moving out,” Matthew harrumphed on the end of the line. “I mean it this time, petal — I can’t live in that flat like some hoarder. I stubbed my toe on the mandolin this morning!”
I’d never minded the rain, even when the wind blew it sideways and it felt like ice crystals clinking against my skin. My jacket was drenched and my hair was a frizzy mess as I walked through Oxford Circus with my phone pressed to my ear, buckets of water pouring down on my head, but the heavy rain didn’t stop the smile on my face from growing wider.
“Come off it, Matty,” I whined, jumping over a puddle on the corner of Oxford and Regent. A double-decker sped by, and I stopped to watch tourists dressed in plastic ponchos snap pictures of pigeons and rubbish bins and the Apple Store. “You have to be nice to me.”
“My birthday was two days ago and you still told me off for leaving my boots in the entryway,” he chided.
This is set after Valentine’s attack on Magnus’ lair in S1E4. A canon fill-in fic for Downworlders Week, because I was disappointed that Magnus’ reaction to the warlocks’ deaths wasn’t shown or talked about on screen…
The loss of so many warlocks in such a short time sat like a leaden weight on Magnus’ heart.
Elias was dead, his demon mark sitting on some medium-rare Circle members shelf until hours ago when Magnus had tracked the collection down and burned the man’s house–and his sick obsession–into ashes.
The warlock child Zoe had lost her father, but Magnus had ensured that she would be cared for until the time she was ready to go out on her own. She wouldn’t be abandoned or rejected, not like he had been.
The warlocks who had survived the massacre were now holed up on safer ground–far away from him and the vendetta Valentine had on him for helping the Fairchild girl. Those who hadn’t survived were being laid to rest tonight. Protected by wards that would keep their still-magical bones from ever being used for anything of a dark nature. They deserved that peace.
For now, it had to be enough.
Even when it wasn’t nearly enough in Magnus’ eyes.