he saw right through her walls

Our Own Rules

“Do you ever think about if we’d never been chosen?”

Chat Noir glanced up over his cup of cocoa, the plastic flask warming the tips of his fingers against a cold Parisian night. The pair sat, side-by-side, as they always did on a night patrol. Always close, never together.

The season was turning, the nights grew dark, and it appeared as though Ladybug was in one of her pensive moods.

“Something got you worried Bugaboo?”

His partner and long-time friend shook her head. Her eyes didn’t meet his, and Chat Noir squirmed in his seat. Before, they’d let the conversation lull itself into a comfortable silence. But now it wasn’t so. Now there were things unspoken, left lingering like the leaves currently falling from the treetop Chat’s toes skimmed.

“Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I was never picked,” she elaborated. The breeze picked up, loosening a strand of hair from her braid and Chat’s fingers gripped his cocoa like a lifeline. He inhaled, trying to focus on the words she said, looking up in time to see her waving her hand. “I mean, there’s so many girls in Paris, right? Sometimes I wonder what made me so special, what I’d be doing if I wasn’t sat here with you. What if I’d never become all of this. Do you ever think about stuff like that?”

Chat pondered on it for a moment, a thousand different confessions tried to force their way off his tongue, if you’d never become Ladybug, I wouldn’t have met you and life would be so much worse. I’m so glad I’m sat here with you. I’m content with this. This is all I need. I promise. I promise. Do you regret it? Do you regret me?

The confessions never left his mouth. He’d once professed his love to her on a near daily basis, when he’d been young and hadn’t known any better, hadn’t understood there was difference between forcing your love on someone and being honest about your feelings. It was one of his deepest regrets, and it had all come to a head three years ago when Ladybug had all but exploded at him. His gut twisted as he remembered her tears, her anger, her fear.

It was then that he’d truly understood. She couldn’t reciprocate. Even if she did return his feelings, they couldn’t be together. The city, their mission, was too important, bigger than the both of them. And he’d put all of that on her, had forced her to make that choice every time he’d blurted out his emotions without thinking.

He’d hurt her, and he would never do it again.

So he kept his stupid mouth shut, and never let it slip. But sometimes, sometimes he got close. Sometimes he was tempted. Sometimes she asked questions like this… and he almost damned himself all over again.

This was dangerous.

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Burning Red

Summary: Soulmate AU where your chest glows red when you meet your soulmate. Sirius Black meets you at the worst possible time.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,011

Requested by @spectralbucky: dude dude dude if you can, pls write a sirius x reader with the soulmate au where your chest glows on meeting/realising/accepting your soulmate? i just think it would be beautiful and i’d love to read the way you write it 🖤


There was no sound, not even the faintest shuffle, apart from his and James’ breaths. Sirius couldn’t see his own feet, owing to the Invisibility Cloak covering him and his friend. He could feel James right behind him though, their steps slow, trying to keep the Cloak on both of them as they walked. It was getting harder to fit two people under it now as compared to their first year. They had both grown a lot since then, both now in their sixth year.

It was nearly 2 in the morning, and they had just finished bringing Remus back to the castle after a particularly rough transformation. For some reason, this month had been harder than ever before, and after they had settled him into his bed with a million blankets, they left Peter with him while they grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and decided to run down to the kitchens and get him as much stuff with chocolate as possible.

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Between Walls (S.R) - Part Three

summary: Nobody expected Captain America himself to stroll into The Raft, chains binding his wrists and ankles with a muzzle over this mouth but then again, stranger things have happened.

pairing: steve rogers x female reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: couple curse words, mentions of ptsd and nightmares.

A/N: firstly, im SO sorry this has taken me nearly four months to update, i had no inspiration for it but im back back back again! secondly, the response to this series - even tho it’s only two parts in - is incredible and overwhelming and im so glad you are all loving it!!


as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, tell me what you thought of this fic!


Steve near enough flew away from his bed, his entire face red and soaked with tears as he scrambled over to the other side of his cell, every fibre of his being convulsing as he shielded his eyes from the rubble that now decorated the floor of his cell, the sound of static filling his ears as he slowly looked up to where the blast came from. 

He crawled over to the bed and laid on his left side, facing the gap that now sat in the wall. The gap wasn’t big, it couldn’t be otherwise Y/N would be torn away from the cell block, away from Steve. But it was big enough for him to see a quarter of her face and vice versa. Y/N’s right eye flooded with concern, still clouded over as she looked through the gap to Steve, tears welling in them as she saw his bloodshot left eye. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” Y/N spoke softly, Steve clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. The storm outside was slowly calming down and Y/N now needed to calm the storm within Steve down. “Steve, please look at me.” She pleaded, moving her left hand so it was at the gap, poking a finger through and hoping Steve would look at her. 

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Noorhelm - Skam

If you don’t watch Skam, skip this, because I’m about to go on a little rant…

Where do people get off on calling Noorhelm toxic or abusive? Do you actually know what those words mean? Have you actually witnessed those types of relationships? I have. I’ve gone through several with my very close friends, and they’re hell. A toxic, abusive relationship breaks someone down. It makes them feel worthless, like the only person in the world who could love them is their asshole partner. And that asshole partner seeks to do that to them, seeks to keep them away from their friends and family so they have no one else to turn to.

Now… tell me how William has ever done any of that to Noora? He pursued her aggressively for a date, but each time she pulled back he let her. He didn’t force himself on her. He didn’t belittle her. He finally asked her flat out if she liked him (after she’d given him plenty of signs she did), and when she said no he walked away. Noora chased him, because the feelings between them were very mutual and very real. He wasn’t imagining them or her interest in him. Then in every disagreement and issue that followed he played to her tune. He let her come to him, and he immediately accepted her back. He understood that it was a struggle for her, and he tried his best to go at her speed. At Noora’s lowest point he was there for her without question. He knew something was wrong, but he didn’t push her, he just loved her. That isn’t the actions of a manipulative, abusive man. Noora has always remained who she is, and that is why he loves her so much. SHe’s not perfect either, but he accepts that just like she accepts he has a past she doesn’t agree with.

And lastly, most importantly, they make each other better people without even trying. Noora never set out to change him, but by simply being herself she did. William turned himself into the cops because he saw it through Noora’s eyes, and wanted to better himself. Noora let her walls down and trusted again, because William showed her the way by giving that to her. They’re not perfect. William closes down sometimes and Noora runs, but when they come back together they find unquestionable happiness with one another. All it took was an email for William. One email and he was at her doorstep. He gave her 8 months to figure herself out, and didn’t chase after her. He let her breathe and figure it out, and when (he thought) she reached out he was right there. Clearly not angry or bitter about her actions, but ready to make it better. And Noora isn’t hung up on Sana sending the email, but is simply relieved to be back with William, finally understanding him and them together.

Check yourselves before you start tagging things toxic and abusive, because it belittles those words, makes them less and less, until they no longer have the strong meaning they should.


Sweet Pea x Reader |✨ Save me the last dance, my love✨

•Sweet Pea and the reader are best friends and she gets stood up on her date at the dance, even if Sweet Pea had warned her. He drives to the school to comfort her and shares a dance with her, telling her he loves her.•


We were both siting on the roof next to her window. Y/n and I had been best friends since the first day of kindergarden. A guy had threw some mud at her new shirt and being the Sweet Pea that I am, I pushed the kid down the sidewalk for payback. Ever since then, I was her protector, her lab partener and her best friend. She was wearing her Rivervixen sweatshirt and some black leggings, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She looked beautiful. I liked when she wore comfy clothes. It meant she was comfortable with me. Since the school had merged, she had tried out to be a part of the vixens and of course, they took her. Sure I was happy about it but that meant more boys would try to get her.

We were both working on our history project when she received a text message.

“Who’s that?” I asked, hoping it would only be Toni.

“Just someone..” She said, blushing down and responding quickly.

“It’s clearly a boy.” I said rolling my eyes.

“Okay you’re right.. But he’s really nice Sweets! He cares about me!” She said, clearly blinded about the fact that boys were totall dicks.

“You said that about the last guy too. Do you want me to remind you what happened?” I said, warning her.

She looked down and looked up back at me.

“He cheated on me with my friend..”

“Yeah and I had to go beat him up and comfort you all night. Boys are dumb and only want to break your heart.”

“You want to break my heart?!” She said, joking.

“You know what I mean..” I said, smiling to her.

“I know you’re just looking out for me. But Greg is nice to me.”

“Greg?! You mean the football player Greg?!”

“I knew you’d react that way!” She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“He’s a totall douche!”

“You don’t know that!” She said, nudging me witg her elbow.

“Are you going to the dance with him?”

Please say no.

“Yeah, he asked me yesterday.”


“Do you already have your dress?” I ask, trying to change the subject, not wanting to imagine this guys hands on her.

She nodded with a big smile on her lips. Gosh she was adorable.

“Do you want to see it?”

It was my turn to nod like an idiot.

I was waiting, sitting on her bed when she came out of the bathroom. I had to clench my jaw for it not to hang open. She was perfect. The dress was made with this silky light blue material, making her hair stand out.

“You look beautiful.” I said.

I stood up and twirled her around. She giggled and laid her head on my chest as we danced with no music on.

“You’re not going to come to the dance are you?” She asked.

“Dances aren’t really my thing.”

“I would’ve liked for you to be there.” She whispered.

I smiled and hoped she couldn’t hear my heart beat faster.

The night of the dance, I laid on my couch, eating some leftover pizza and watching and old episode of Sponge Bob. I kept thinking about her. I had to keep myself from running out the door just to go see her in that dress again. I took my last bite of pizza and jumped as my phone rang in my jacket pocket.

I frowned as I saw the name on the screen. Y/n. I answered quickly and heared her cries through the telephone.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay.”

“Pea.. H-He‘s not gonna show up.” She cried.

“What do you mean?”

“Greg.. He isn’t coming..”

“I’m fucking gonna beat the crap out of him!” I said, tapping my palm hard against the wall.

“C..Can you just please come and pick me up please?”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

I drove fastly until I arrived to the school. She was sitting on the stairs outside, her head resting on her small hands. When she saw me, she ran and jumped in my arms.

“Shh.. s’okay y/n..” I whispered.

“You can say it. You were right again..”

“No y/n.. I just didn’t want him to break your heart..”

“Thank you for looking out for me..”

I heared the songs play through the walls of the school, meaning the party was still going.

“C’mon, please let me have this dance.” I said, pulling her back inside the building.

I looked down and realised I was still wearing my serpent jacket with my old black jeans. Every other boy was in a suit. Everyone’s eyes turned to us. A slow Ed Sheeran song came up and I slow danced with her. Just like in her room.

“I love you Y/n..” I whispered, half hoping she heared, half hoping she hadn’t.

“I love you too Pea.."She said as if it was normal.

"No Y/n, you don’t understand.. I-I’m in love with you.” I said, as she looked into my eyes with her big and bright ones.

She smiled and caressed my cheek.

“I know. I’m in love with you too Pea… I was searching for love but it was right beside me all those years.”

I smiled and crashed my lips on hers. I had dreamed about that kiss so many times. I had never thought it was truly going to happen.

“After all those years you’re still protecting me from the mean boys.” She laughed, kissing my cheek.

“You just needed a bad boy with a good heart.”

Hot Mess Hair

Something about Peter Parker’s hair drove MJ crazy. As a black woman, she would be hypocritical to jump out and run her hands through a person’s hair without permission, but boy did Peter’s hair tempt her. She felt bad for how hard Peter tried to look presentable for her. At school. On dates. Even the casual hangouts.

Whenever she saw his stylish, socially acceptable James Dean hair, she wanted to shove her fingers right through it and massage all the crunchy stiffness into that soft fluffiness she loved best. She never told him this. For one it sounded too intimate to say out loud, and for another she didn’t want to make him self-conscious about a hairstyle he had obviously preferred long before they even started dating.

Still, no matter what form Peter’s hair took, it had the power to smite her. The webslinging and the wall climbing were easy to watch with a bored grin, but so help her if his hair came close enough to touch. She loved it every time. In the morning when he pulls up to school, freshly showered, and he leans in to hug her and she smells the citrus and feels water dripping off the soggy tips. At lunchtime when he scratches his head over AP Calc homework he’s finishing at the last minute and a tuft of hair sticks out that he forgets to smooth away. At the end of a hot, humid day when his cushy coiffed hair is wilting into loose waves as he pecks her with a kiss and whispers a promise to visit after patrol.

He kept it styled every day at school, with the help of what she knew was a generous helping of hair gel, and she’d have to sit on her hands to stop herself from ruffling his hair. Doing that would only earn her a lecture about how she’d just wasted an hour of his morning routine. But, when he would come back late from a patrol, head emerging from the spandex like a turtle, his hair showed its true nature: a sweaty, curly, tangled hot mess. MJ emphasized hot. What could she say, she was a sucker for messy hair.

Untamed. Undone. Un-perfect. Hair like that made her feel like she was looking at the real Peter. Nights like this were her favorite time to see it. When they were watching an indie movie on the couch and Peter fell asleep in her arms, she loved to comb her fingers through his soft curls and rub the nape of his neck as his warm breath washed over her. His hair was relaxed, parting easily for her as she smoothed away the tangles. She wrapped a coil around her pinky.

“Mm-jay,” he muttered.

MJ stilled her hand. “Yeah, Peter?”

His nose scrunched up, and he reached for her hand. “Don’t stop, that feels good.”

Smothering a snicker, MJ resumed running her fingers through his hair. “What were you gonna say?”

Peter was quiet for a minute, and MJ thought he’d knocked out again until he said, “I really like you.”

That stupidly wonderful ache bloomed in her chest, even though she’d heard him say those words to her a hundred times before. She kissed the crest of his head, and even though his hair was a little greasy and knotted and gross, she liked it that way. She liked him even better.

“I really like you too.”


WOW. That was the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written IN MY LIFE. And I’ve written some serious fluff - usually couched in some semblance of a plot, but still. What can I say? I’m a romance novelist trapped in a nerd’s body, and this is what came out of it.

I haven’t posted fanfic in over a year, but I saw Spider-Man: Far From Home and I couldn’t stop thinking about how obsessed I am with Tom Holland’s hair. Or how obsessed I am with my new OTP Spideychelle. Congrats, Marvel. You’ve sold me on my first MCU ship since Romanogers.

anonymous asked:

Can we get a prompt for Klance of Shiro coming back and like not realizing Keith and Lance are together. He sees them together all the time but just thinks they became really good friends until it becomes obvious they are more. Thanks!

Aaaand once again, I’m so sorry for the six months delay and I hope you’re still following me and that you see this and you like it.

This… went a little bit differently than I expected or intended it to? It’s perhaps a bit odd stylistically, but it was an interesting experiment


They reunited in the heat of battle, so there was no time to notice anything, really, except the laser blasts coming at them from all sides. It was almost ridiculous, how the reunion happened: one moment, Shiro was back to back with Matt, blasting their way through an impossibly thick mob of soldiers, then there was an explosion, and the next thing he knew Matt had doubled into two people, except one of them was wearing white armor edged in green. The second Matt was saying something, just audible over the sound of battle.

“Matthew Holt, I hope you are ready to be grounded for the rest of your life, because Mom isn’t going to let either of us step outside ever again.” Without turning to face him, the second Matt elbowed Shiro in the ribs. “And you,” she said. “If you don’t stop disappearing, poor Keith is going to have an aneurysm.” It was only when he twisted to shoot down a Galra soldier lunging at the double Matts that he caught sight of tears glistening in Pidge’s eyes, and the fierce smile on her face. When he turned back, he saw the others too: Hunk on the edges, with his back to the wall, mowing down as many as he could with his cannon. Lance had somehow scrambled up a straight ladder against the wall and was hanging there by his legs, taking the Galra out sniper-style. Keith, predictably, was in the thick of it, a red whirl of fury, his sword hacking apart enemies left and right. When he cut straight through three drones with one swing, Shiro heard Lance shout from above.

“Nice going, samurai!” he called, the proud grin audible in his voice. Almost without looking, he shot a Galra barreling for Keith straight through the head.

“Quick eye, sharpshooter!” Keith called back.

Then he lost sight of them in the fury of the battle. After it was done, none of the team had eyes or ears for anything but him and Matt, piling on him in a giant hug until Shiro thought they might never let go, tears streaming freely down their faces. So there really wasn’t anything that should have tipped him off, per se – he just assumed the team as a whole had grown tighter knit in his absence as they continued to work together.


His first real clue should have been breakfast. He and Keith had talked almost all night, Keith’s eyes drinking Shiro in as if he were afraid he might disappear again if he so much as blinked. Ultimately, the exhaustion of the battle had overpowered Keith and he slipped into sleep on the couch. Shiro covered him with a blanket and camped out on the couch opposite. His room hadn’t been touched, was sitting waiting for him, but he had long since grown used to sleeping wherever there was space, first in the gladiator prisons, and then again amongst the rebels with Matt. He knew Keith would appreciate the reassurance of being able to see him first thing when he woke up.

He still slept lightly, and slept short nights, but Keith was gone when he woke up anyway. He made his way to the kitchen, the castle halls still nostalgically familiar even after months away. Keith was sitting at the table stirring something that smelled so much like coffee Shiro had his worst rush of homesickness since boarding the flight to Kerberos. Keith’s eyes were half lidded and he still looked half asleep. Lance was bustling around the kitchen, frying something pink and brown and sweet-smelling. He had an awful case of bedhead and was wearing the blue lion slippers and bathrobe he’d dug up somehow – Shiro still had no idea where he’d found them. He was yawning frequently, but he greeted Shiro with an enthusiastic smile and announced breakfast would be served momentarily.

He attributed Lance and Keith’s amiability to more time spent as friends and, perhaps egocentrically, to his own return – neither of them would want to have a row and spoil their reunion with Shiro. It somehow didn’t occur to him to wonder why Keith would be sitting in the kitchen alone with Lance before Shiro was even awake, or why I-need-my-beauty-sleep Lance was up so early at all. It certainly didn’t occur to him that it might have something to do with the fact that Keith had never gone to bed the night before.

They both sat across from him, and next to each other. Looking back on it, they were probably holding hands under the table. Shiro’s only excuse was exhaustion and, well, the two had still been goading each other at every other opportunity when he left, if not at every single moment anymore. They were getting better, but it was a big leap from that to what had grown between them.


The training, he had no real excuse for. He walked in on them practicing hand-to-hand and stood quietly in the corner, pleased and honestly astonished at how well they were working together. Keith was demonstrating to Lance how to get out of a chokehold and Lance was nodding and following instructions just as if it were Shiro. No, he corrected himself, better than he ever did when Shiro was leading the team. There was an air of calm confidence around Lance now. Oh, he still flirted mercilessly and threw barbs at Keith – which Keith took with a smile that dared him on and returned barbs of his own – and he was still easily the loudest and most enthusiastic of any of them. But he wasn’t wildly bombastic anymore. His energy didn’t splay out in uncontrolled and misdirected bursts. He’d found some kind of center, some kind of anchor that Shiro couldn’t put his finger on. Keith had grown calmer as well. Even as Lance repeatedly failed to understand the particular way Keith wanted him to shift his weight, Shiro could watch him putting his frustration aside, searching for new ways to explain or demonstrate it.

Lance shifted his weight too much, overbalanced, and sent them both tumbling to the floor, Keith landing on top of him. They both lay there groaning for a second until it turned into bubbling laughter. Shiro saw Lance whisper something in Keith’s ear, and suddenly Keith bounded to his feet, whirling.

“Shiro!” he yelped, and then cleared his throat. “Hey, Shiro, didn’t see you there.” Lance guffawed from the floor, folding his arms behind his head.

“Hey Shiro,” he called. There was an odd suggestiveness to the tone. Shiro frowned.

“I just came in to see how training was going and make sure you two weren’t actually trying to kill each other,” he said. Keith went beet red as Lance burst into another round of sniggering chuckles.

“Nope, we’re all still friends here,” he called, winking. Shiro didn’t know what to think about the wink, but he shrugged it off and went on with his day anyway.


In the end, it took being bludgeoned over the head with it for him to notice. He wandered into the hall late at night, headed to the kitchen for a glass of water, and caught Keith reaching to open the door to Lance’s room.

“Keith?” he asked. “Isn’t that Lance’s room?” Keith froze like a deer in headlights. Shiro almost heard his neck creaking when he turned his head to look at him. His eyes were wide and wild with an odd sort of terror, but he was saved the necessity of answering by the door flying open to reveal Lance in his PJs.

“It is indeed,” Lance said, a wicked grin on his face. “You ready for bed, babe?” Keith mouthed soundlessly at him. Even then, Shiro thought Lance was just joking.

“What are you two actually up to?” he asked, rolling his eyes. If Lance and Keith were scheming something together, he wasn’t sure the castle would survive it. Only a truly outrageous cause could unite them. Lance and Keith glanced at each other, and Lance burst out laughing. Keith was red to his ears.

“Keith, please, we’ve got to tell him,” Lance said, struggling for breath through tears of mirth. “I’m going to choke to death laughing if he gets any more oblivious.” Keith nodded stiffly.

“Okay, yes, fine, tell him,” he muttered. Shiro frowned, glancing between them.

“Tell me what?” he asked. Lance pursed his lips, and then grabbed Keith around the waist and kissed him on the mouth.

Shiro flinched back, waiting for Keith to punch Lance so hard he would break his nose, but instead Keith melted into the kiss. With one embarrassed side-eye flicker at Shiro and a little shrug that seemed to say “What can I tell you?” his eyes slid closed. He cupped Lance’s jaw and pulled him closer, pressing his lips to the corner of Lance’s mouth. When they broke apart, Shiro’s jaw was on the floor. Lance, also flushed now, shrugged.

“Tell you that,” he said, a note of laughing embarrassment in his voice. “We were going to let you figure it out for yourself, but God, Shiro, you are majorly oblivious.”

There was no answer to that, Shiro realized, except to agree.

[Please do not send me prompts at the moment, I am working through old ones]

Ramble On

Summary: Soulmate AU where Dean’s soulmate, who he blamed himself for losing years ago, returns and makes him realize he still has a chance to do what he couldn’t back then.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester
Word Count: 3852
Warnings: Sexuality, angst, language, character death, hurt!Sam, fluff
A/N: This is a Soulmate AU. About 1 in 100,000 people are marked with an infinity symbol on their ring finger which means they have a soulmate. When they get closer in proximity to their match, the symbol gets darker and darker until the veins of pigment from the mark spell out the name of the soulmate in their palm. When they find each other, they bond… and the emotional and spiritual link from the bond allows them to fall in love quickly and completely. If their soulmate dies, the mark fades or disappears completely.
This is for @there-must-be-a-lock‘s Lou’s Musical Madness Challenge! She also beta’d it, so she’s double awesome and a fantastic beta. I picked Ramble On by Led Zeppelin, lyrics are in bold, flashbacks in italics, and I hope you all enjoy! Gif made by me!


Dean woke with a low grumble that vibrated through his chest. He blinked his eyes open and squinted, eyeing the nude and asleep female form passed out in the bed next to him. His eyes raked over the curve of her back and rested on the indent right above her ass. He glanced at the clock on the wall and rubbed his temples when he saw that it read just past three in the morning. He sighed, throwing the covers off his still-naked body, and stumbled to the bathroom.

He had finished the solo hunt Sam sent him on yesterday afternoon and had gone immediately to the closest bar. He drank whiskey until he didn’t think about the blank space on his finger, opting to take home a lovely and drunk redhead when the whiskey wasn’t working as well as he hoped.

Dean had been trying to move on for years, and every time he failed, he would fall into bed with another distraction from the ache in his heart. He knew she had existed; the memory of the small infinity symbol on the underside of his ring finger could attest to that.  He could never forgive himself, though. He could never forgive himself for not looking.

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anonymous asked:

Can you do #9 for the I found you prompt please? Thanks!


ao3 | E | 0.7k | s7, msr, minimal angst.

Summary: some case, some motel. mulder finds scully with his name on her lips. nsfw.


Mulder wakes up rested but hungry as hell. That’s what you get for missing dinner, he supposes, but the sheer horror of their current case conspired with the rain against his window and put him to sleep in the late afternoon.

Whatever tentative circadian rhythm he managed to establish with Scully over the last few months, it was gone after two days out here. It’s two-fifty am now; he’ll be a wreck again around noon.

The connecting door to Scully’s room is ajar and a soft light bleeds out onto the carpet of his own.

He gets up to shuffle through the files and gory photographs spread out on the table, looking for the takeout menu from some local whatever with twenty-four hour delivery. Putting on sweats and a tee is an afterthought, but perhaps if he hadn’t been sliding the cotton down past his ears just two steps from the doorway, he would have heard her as -

Scully’s on her back, one heel planted firmly on the mattress with the other leg stretched out. In the low light from the bedside lamp, she’s cast in a chiaroscuro glow, ivory skin and cream rib-knit contrasting with the black lace of her underwear. One hand is hidden under the fabric; still, while the other moves with the rise and fall of her heaving chest.

Eyes closed, lips parted, she breathes almost without a sound. He’s gotten used to her relative silence in bed - she talks to him but makes him work for even the smallest moan; she forgets to breathe when she comes; sometimes she’ll even shush him in between hazy whispers of let go - but this, even through these cheap walls? A no-tell motel; no, he would never have heard her.

And he wonders - wonders how often she does this. How often she’d do it before, knowing he was right on the other side of that wall with his muted Skinemax. If she ever saw him, watched him, or forgot to close the door herself. If, perhaps, she didn’t at all forget to close it now -

A spaceship could come crashing straight through the flickering No Vacancy outside and rip up the flooded parking lot; it wouldn’t mean a damn thing, he’s grown roots here and couldn’t move if he wanted to.

She’s sensitive after, he knows, and as she removes her hand she whimpers, low in her throat, “God, Mulder…”

He must make a sound himself; the elastic waistband of her underwear snaps and she raises herself up on her elbows, hissing, now; “Jesus!”

“I’m sorry.” His own rough voice takes him by surprise.

She forces out another breath. “Were you watching me?”

“I wasn’t, I only - the door, you hadn’t -” she’s freckled and flushed, copper hair kept so short since February that she can no longer hide behind it, but that little tongue darts out to wet those lips and he realises - she isn’t. He sits down on the edge of the bed. Lets two fingers trace a line from the hollow of her throat, over her gold cross, between her breasts, up to her mouth. “God, Jesus - you, Scully, do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?”

And there’s the glint, the shy twitch of her mouth. “Some,” she husks, pressing her lips to his fingers. “You give me some idea.”

“Enough ideas to break the rules, huh?” he teases.

She sits up, drags him closer by his collar, “we said no sex. Nothing about -” kisses him, “- fantasizing, or -” again, “- taking care of ourselves.” She reaches down to trace the bulge in his sweats.

He groans, fingering the lace border of her panties. “So how many rules are we breaking now?”

The corner of her mouth twitches again, but she looks past him. There’s a reason death’s best girl was awake alone in the first place, he thinks; her own demons refusing to let her wash the blood and guts of murdered children from her hands as easily as she sheds her gloves.

With penitent hands is how they’ve always touched each other, though.

“I don’t know. None, all of them,” she tells him, drawing her knees up before pushing him down on his back. She climbs over him. “I don’t care about the rules, Mulder.”

“The New Girl” Nicholas Scratch x reader

The girl walked through the doors of the Academy radiating confidence. Her hair was styled into a braid with a few losse strands falling over her piercing e/c eyes. She ignored the curious stares of the witches and warlocks as she walked down the halls to the High Priests office. After obtaining her schedule she headed to her first class, choir. How exciting. She walked into the room, sang a few verses for Lady Blackwood and then took her spot next to a cute blonde witch and a raven haired warlock. The girl smiled sweetly while the boy just smirked and looked away. She turned around and saw three other girls, two of them looking somewhere else and one of them eyeing her suspiciously. Her first class and she seemed to already have an enemy, a friend, and a…misteryous bad boy.

During lunch she sat alone, she didn’t really mind. What she did mind was those three grils from choir sitting with her uninvited. „I’m Prudence.“ The middle one introduced herself, „ And this is Agatha and Dorcas.“ „Lovely to meet you ladies, I’m Y/n Y/l/n. Now, skidaddle!“ She said not looking up from her food. Prudence gasped in fake offence and then smirked evily. „You know, new girl, there is something called harrowing at this scho-…“ „Yes I’m quite aware of the ridiculous, cruel, unnecessary, rude torture you put other students through to staisfy your poor fragile little ego.“ Y/n interrupted her, wearing a smirk of her own. „And also, darling, my name is Y/n, not „new girl“ so I advise you to stop calling me that if you have anything even close to a brain under that…interesting hairstyle.“ This time the gasp from Prudence was genuine and she stormed off with the other two following her closely. „That was quite a show.“ A velvet, seductive voice said from behind her. She turned to see the dark haired boy from earlier walking to join her. He sat and extended his hand. „I’m Nicholas. Nick Scratch.“ He said as Y/n shook his hand. „I’m Y/n Y/l/n. I’m hoping you’re not here to threathen me too.“ She added and he chuckled. „I am not. I’m simply welcoming you to a new school.“ He told her with a charming smile. Something about this boy intrigued Y/n. She saw right through the bad boy seducer act. It made her wonder what lays beneath. So she did the most reasonable thing. Decided to tease him, break down those playboy walls around him. „Is that crooked smirk something you o on purpose or is your face just morphed like that?“ She asked cocking her head to the side in fake confusion. That took him of guard, obviously, but he quickly composed himself. „Is that bitchy attitude your thing or were you just born rude?“ He asked. „I was born rude.“ She shrugged and he actually allowed his surprise, well it was more like admiration, to show on his face. „You got any other ridiculous attempts at flirting or can I go to my next class?“ She asked him and he opened his mouth but no words came out. „I guess that’s a no then. See you around, Nicholas Scratch.“ She kissed his cheek and walked off smirking. Nick was left staring after her with an undeniable blush rising on his cheeks. „The great Nicholas Scratch blushing? I never thought I’d see the day.“ Sabrina teased him as she walked by but he barely heard her, too consumed in the thoughts of the girl that has wraped him around her little finger twice in a matter of seconds. But, he was Nicholas Scratch and he was never one to turn down a challenge.

Photograph (ch. v)

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Inspired by @holland-stan-posts

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Hanahaki Disease: victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim’s romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

ch iv


     Ever since the Sebastian visit (y/n), he never went back to visit her. The two males noticed his distant he has become on set. (Y/n) has started work again, but it isn’t the same since she can’t feel emotions. She doesn’t know how to instruct people anymore since she doesn’t know what emotions are. Anthony and Chris were the only ones that felt the change happening between the two. The others are not as close to the two people to be able to understand what is happening.

    Anthony and Chris were watching behind the scenes while Sebastian was with his trainer. Sebastian was trying to learn the fight sequence for the next time he films it, he is able to do it properly. He has been messing up lately and it has been taking a toll on their progress for the fourth Avengers movie to finish.

    “You notice it too?” Anthony broke their concentration. Steve just nodded his head. “He looks sick and it doesn’t look good on him.”

    “He has lost a lot of weight,” Steve said. They just stared at him - trying to figure out what is wrong with the male. “Do you think he has spoken to (y/n) after his first visit?” Anthony just shrugged his shoulder in response. Neither of the two removed their eyes from the Romanian man in front of them. They cannot pinpoint what is the problem and that is what is worrying them. When Sebastian was going to go in for the punch, he held onto his stomach and then the hand he was going to use to throw the punch went straight to cover his mouth. Then he started to run off.

    The scene was very familiar to when Anthony and Chris saw (y/n) running with her hand covering her mouth. They both look at each other and it looked like they were thinking of the same thing, so they both followed Sebastian to his destination. Their suspicions were right, there was Sebastian throwing up yellow tulip flower petals. Sebastian was already disheveled due to the fighting scene, but he even looks messier than ever. His hair was in his face and he was rubbing the blood from his lips. Once he was done removing everything out of his stomach, he sat up against the wall and closed his eyes.

    Sebastian new the two of them were there. He heard heavy footsteps coming into the room. He just didn’t want to look at them - not in this state. He doesn’t want to face them because they were right. “I don’t know how this happened,” Sebastian finally spoke up. He opened his eyes and saw both males with their arms crossed on their chest and leaning on the wall opposite towards him. Their faces show sympathy and they didn’t know how to act.

    “It started right after the first meeting with (y/n). I thought I wasn’t in love with her because I had a girlfriend, so I don’t understand I am going through this,” Sebastian sounded so dejected. He didn’t know what to do. “I broke up with my girlfriend after I found it. She put up a fight to stay with me, but I couldn’t do that to her. I didn’t want her to find out about the disease and be even more heartbroken.”

    Silence befell them. No one knew what to say and no one dared say anything. Anthony and Chris just kept stealing glances at each other feeling guilt and sympathy towards both Sebastian and Chris. If they didn’t push (y/n) to get the surgery then Sebastian wouldn’t have to go through the same disease, but if they didn’t let her then she would have died and they couldn’t let that happen. Everything that has happened in the past few weeks has made everyone so tense and broken. No one knew what to do anymore. 

    “Hey guys,” a familiar voice snapped everyone out of their trance and looked towards the door. There stood (y/n) was a plastic bag full of Chinese food. “I thought that I would stop by since I am in the area to hang out with you guys,” she stated. Her face was voided of any emotions. “They just let me in an-” Her sentence cut off when she was stray petals on the floor. Sebastian quickly went down on the floor to pick up the stray petals - trying to hide the pain that is building inside of him. He finally threw all of them and stay seated on the floor and playing with his hands. 

    “Those are yellow tulips are they not?” (y/n) asked. She tilted her head to the side in curiosity. “That means hopeless love.” Once again silence was in the room. Sebastian doesn’t know what to say because he clearly sees that (y/n) understands the situation. Just because her emotions are gone doesn’t mean her intelligence isn’t. “You are in love with me.” Those words are usually supposed to spark a joy in people, but (y/n) didn’t feel anything at all and it brought another vile of flower petals up Sebastian’s throat. He stopped himself from vomiting the petals and just harshly swallowed it down. It hurt, but he didn’t want to throw up in front of them. 

    “When did it start?” she asked him. Sebastian stayed quiet. (y/n) can’t feel any emotions anymore so there was no anger in her just curiosity due to the lack of emotions. With no more emotions, all she can evict is a curiosity for how people show emotions. “The day when I first woke up.” Sebastian bit her lip when hearing her answer her own question. 

    “Chris, Anthony, may you please leave us? I would like to talk to Sebastian in private,” (y/n) asked. The two males complied and walked out the door and closing it in the process. Sebastian hasn’t moved from his position from the floor, he was just sitting up and kept staring down. He felt the presence of the girl next to him, but he dares not look at her. 

    “Did you know what yellow tulip flowers mean?” she asked. 

    Sebastian scoffed at her question but softened not wanting to be rude to the female. “I didn’t want to search it up because I knew it wasn’t going to change anything anyway,” he let out a sigh. “I genuinely thought I only saw you as a friend, as family, but I guess destiny has a twisted way of showing how I love someone.” Sebastian keeps going on and on about how he didn’t see it coming, even pointing out how (y/n) didn’t have some of the qualities he wanted in a girl. He failed to notice the girl flinch next to him, (y/n) never interrupted him once. 

    “Now here I am completely in love with you and you don’t even feel any type of emotions towards me. If I could turn back time – I would, but I can’t, and I am so sorry (y/n) for putting you through all that pain. This is my karma and I deserve it,” Sebastian was sobbing now and started to cry in his arms. (y/n) was biting his lip – not knowing what to say. She wrapped her arm around him and pulled his body towards her. Then she guided his head to lay on her shoulder and she just pets his hair trying to stop his crying. 

    “Can I tell you what yellow tulip flowers mean?” she asked. Sebastian didn’t understand why she was asking that, but he didn’t trust his voice so he just nodded his head. “They mean hopeless love, but over the years it has changed. It means cheerful thoughts and sunshine. It means you will be happy again Sebs, so don’t worry about being in pain any much longer because your love will be reciprocated.” 

    “Don’t play me like that (y/n),” Sebastian whispered. “How can you love me when you decided to get rid of that love for me.” (y/n) once again bit her lip. She was analyzing everything in her head – she wanted to choose her next words wisely. 

    “I never went through with the surgery.” 

~ ch vi

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you guys for always being so patient with me. It really means a lot. Love you guys. 

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Phantom Girl - Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Request:  Hi! I love your writing! Can i request a wanda/fem!reader where the reader dies on a mission, and Wanda mourns until reader comes back one day with ghost powers (kinda like Danny phantom). You can decide if reader and Wanda are together before or get together after readers “death”

Of course you were stupid enough to go on a solo mission to what was believed to be an abandoned HYDRA facility. The cliche being it wasn’t abandoned and you were able to sneak around for a while before being locked in a room with a peculiar door. You froze in shock as you recognised the faces behind the door. Top HYDRA scientists who were smirking at you as one of them pressed a button.

A large beeping echoed in your ears as the strange door opened, pulling you inside as it as the HYDRA agents filmed it. The door slammed shut and your screams silenced as the video cut sort.

The Avengers stared in shock. “As you can see, Agent S/n is now… missing in action.” Maria Hill explained.

“What? Won’t declare her dead because we don’t have her body back from that facility?” Tony asked.

“The realm that door leads to will not return Y/n’s body for she has entered the Ghost Realm. The realm of ghosts…there’s no return from that.” Thor explained. Everyone fell silent as they realised Wanda was crying whilst Pietro tried to comfort her.

“I never told her how I felt.” Wanda whimpered into Pietro’s shoulder.

“When was the video sent?” Tony enquired to Maria.

“We got it today but its dated days ago…”

“How many days?”


“13. Such an unlucky number.” A voice said causing everyone to freeze and turn around to look in the doorway.

“You said there was no return from the Ghost Realm.” Clint stated, pointing his arrow at you. “As a human yes…” Thor replied as Clint shot the arrow which went straight through you and into the wall.

“What.” (Steve)

“The.” (Bucky)

“Hell.” (Sam)

“Ghost Y/n?” Pietro questioned as he sped over to you.

“Half Ghost. You guys saw that show Danny Phantom right?” You questioned before Wanda appeared in front of you, her hands on your cheeks as you turned back to human with her hands actually on your cheeks are not going through your head.

“Hey…” You whispered, eyes flickering from their original colour to the direct opposite on the colour wheel.

“Stupid.” Wanda grumbled, hitting you.

“What was that for?”

“Dying…” Wanda murmured before grabbing you by the back of the neck and connecting your lips.

“And that?” You asked as you both broke apart.

“For coming back…”

“Ship! Ship! Ship!” Someone cheered causing you both to go red.

“Dang it.” Sam complained as he passed out the $20 he owed to everyone he made bets to.

“So are we a thing now?” You nervously asked before Wanda connected your lips again.

“Vhat do you think draga mea?”

You just smiled as you turned ghost, carrying Wanda through the walls to your room to make out and plan dates.

anonymous asked:

Hi!! Thanks opening prompts; I was wondering if anyone is interested in writing a Post TWS fic where the WS is on the loose and kidnaps Tony to be his new handler since he's good with mainteance for his arm and giving out orders and falls for him bringing sparks of Bucky back. While Tony alrrady knows (through Jarvis searches) that WS was responsible for his parents deaths and while he is angry he's tryibg to survive snd wants to help Bucky. Both see how damaged the other is. Xo, Katie

A/N: I tweaked it a bit so that I could turn it into a sequel for my story One More Light, which you might need to read for context.

Also on AO3!

Out of Ashes Chapter 1: Falling

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” Tony said out loud, back in his lab and spinning around in circles in his office chair.  In his pocket he was turning the dog tag over and over in his fingers, trying to resist temptation.

“What is, sir?”

“Nothing, JARVIS.”  Tony put the tag in the top drawer of his desk and closed it firmly.  He wasn’t going to look up Barnes, James Buchanan.  Because it was just a coincidence.

“I mean, lots of people probably have that name.”

“What name, sir?”

“Never mind, JARVIS.”

Tony lasted thirty minutes before he opened the drawer again.

It took him ten to determine that there has not been another James Buchanan Barnes in the US military since the James Buchanan Barnes; there was a James Brantley Barnes twenty years ago, but that’s all. There was a James Buchanan Barnes out of Little Rock (sandy-haired and twenty years old) and one out of Fort Wayne, Indiana (fifty years old if he’s a day).   The man he’d seen was the spitting image of Bucky Barnes, if ol’ JBB had gone on a week-long bender after growing his hair out.  But no way the man he’d seen was over ninety years old.

Tony rubbed his hands over his face and stared at the picture on the screen, the hat tipped at a jaunty angle, the confident smirk and the dark, guarded eyes.  He ran his thumb over the raised letters of the dog tag for a moment before he closed the windows on his computer and tucked the tag into his pocket.

“Alright JARVIS, open up the files on the palladium, we’re going back to the drawing board.”

Beware the read more

Keep reading

He was going crazy.

Sirius paces around in his cell, trying to ignore the damp walls, the freezing air, the goddamn waves against the fucking shore. 

God, it was endless, the relentless pounding of water against the sand, against rock, escape so close and yet so fucking far. He could see the ocean, the white tips of the foaming waves, the water the exact same colour of slate, sprays of mist turning the air foggy. If he stuck his hand out through the bars, lay flat on his stomach and shoved his shoulder out as far as it could go he could sometimes catch a drop of water on his finger. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting in Azkaban. He had imagined the fortress right at least - all towering spires and slabs of metal, his cell a tiny octagon right along the eastern wall. The Dementors were horrible but bearable - he saw the images in his head every night; James, his twisted neck and shattered glasses, Lily in a pool of blood the same colour as her hair. A single brown eye - all that they ever found of Benjy, Fabian and Gideon’s limp bodies on top of each other. Marlene, the area around her scorched like she had lit herself on fire, Dorcas’s mutilated torso found the day after. There was nothing the Dementors could do to him anymore, nothing else they could traumatize him with. 

He was expecting torture, agony, the kind that turned you into an animal, ripped your bones out one-by-one, the kind that shredded you into too many pieces to ever be fitted back together. He knew pain, knew it like the scars on his back and he knew that no matter how much he could endure there was always more to give. 

He just didn’t expect the silence.

It had been 36 days since he had last seen a human being. He wondered if this was what would break him.

He knew he deserved this. He wanted to die.


They wrap him in chains and toss him into a room.

Sirius lands hard on his shoulder, biting back a groan as he pushes himself up on his knees. They had padlocked them together, huge weights pulling at his ankles, jagged spikes biting into his flesh. He flexes his toes and winces - the metal cut deeply into his skin and he knew that there would be blood. 

Slowly, painfully, Sirius manages to get to his feet. The chains rattle and clank around him - he’s reminded of Remus, wrapped in so much silver he could barely breathe, chained against the wall as the moon rose in the sky. 

Sirius shakes his head quickly. He couldn’t think about Remus. Because he was the one thing left, the only thing left in this fucking world that could break him, that could truly shred him apart. It’s what they did in the War, after all, tortured the two of them side-by-side, pushed them both to the brink. He remembers watching Greyback take Remus apart, bit by bit, remembers the way Remus’ breaths had hitched, the way he had passed out as Greyback cut him. 

Sirius closes his eyes, sags against the wall. He couldn’t do this. 

The door opens.

He hears the footsteps, stopping right in front of him. The sound of breathing, steady and even. “Sirius?”

His heart stops. Slowly, Sirius opens his eyes.

It hurt. God, it hurt, more then any Crucio, any knife, any whip. Sirius takes a deep breath, digs his teeth hard into his lip, lets blood fill his mouth before he speaks.

“What the hell are you doing here Remus?”

Remus cocks his head. He looks younger somehow, impossibly beautiful under the flickering lights of Azkaban. Grief had turned him paler, drained the colour from his skin and from his lips, his eyes still that stunning, ethereal shade of gold. 

Sirius bites down viciously on his lip, anything to stop him from lunging forward, kissing Remus until he couldn’t think, like they used to before everything went to absolute shit - 

“I came to see you,” Remus says, and Sirius almost bursts into tears at the sound of his voice. 

He reaches forward, needing to touch Remus, to interlock their fingers, to fit them both together like how they used to be but Remus draws away. 

“Don’t,” he says, and Sirius hears his sharp intake of breath. “You can’t touch me. The guards are watching. They’ll take you away.”

“How long - “

“30 minutes,” Remus says. “That’s it.”

Sirius nods. He can hear his heartbeat raging in his chest, blood pulsing in his ears. He lets his hands drop down to his side; Remus winces at the sound of the chains. 

“God, Si. What the hell have they done to you?”

“Nothing,” Sirius whispers. He swallows, hard. “They haven’t done anything to me.”

Remus shakes his head. “Bullshit.”

“They haven’t. No one’s touched me or anything.”

Remus turns away, his body shaking and fuck, Sirius wants to reach for him, wants to bury his face in Remus’ hair like he used to. He reaches out, hears the sound of metal on metal, lets his hands drop down. “Re. Re, please. I’m barely holding myself together. I can’t…if you break down - “

“You’re in here for life, Si,” Remus breathes. “They haven’t touched you yet? They will. They’ll torture you, until you can’t think anymore, until you shatter to pieces - ”

“Nah,” Sirius says, forcing a bitter smile onto his face. “You know just as well as I do what’s been done to me.”

Remus takes a deep breath. “Si - “

“I didn’t.” Sirius interrupts him - he can feel the minutes ticking down, feels every second draining away. “Re. Re, you have to believe me. I didn’t betray them. I swear it. I swear it on my life.”

Remus’ face goes completely blank for a second, that vibrant life draining away. “Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t lie to me like that.”

“I’m not.” Sirius hisses. “Please, it wasn’t me. You have to understand - you were gone, everyone was dead. I told him, I told him to switch, to Peter and they did and God, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fucking fault - “

Remus’ face is still empty, still expressionless. He never used to be able to do that before, Sirius thinks. He was always so full of life.

“Please,” Sirius begs. “You have to believe me.”

“Peter is dead,” Remus says flatly. “You killed him.”

He forces out a laugh, past the tightness in his throat. “No. I didn’t.”

“Just tell me,” Remus grits out. “Just fucking tell me how you did it, how you managed to betray the entire goddamn Order. You owe me that, at least.”

I told you I didn’t.”

Bullshit,” Remus spat. “I know you, Sirius, I know when you’re lying. Tell me.”

It was after you went to the camps, Remus, after - “ Sirius stops dead. There are tears in his eyes, blurring everything together, shades of white and gold and grey.

“Do you remember,” he whispers, “The day I proposed to you, last year? By the lake, underneath that huge oak tree. James and Lily were swimming, and you asked me if we would ever be like that, so desperately in love and I said…I said I was willing to bet on it?”

Remus’ eyes dart down to the floor, then back up. “Yeah,” he breathes.

Sirius closes his eyes. “God,” he murmurs to himself, and then he’s lunging forward, tripping over chains and weights and pinning Remus against the wall.

He hears Remus make a soft sound, of surprise or shock he doesn’t know and Sirius swallows it down because God, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get to do this again, kissing Remus, doesn’t know if he’ll ever see him again. His hands are under Remus’ shirt, tracing over the skin there - he counts the scars 1, 2, 3, 4 -

Sirius pulls away, breathing hard. He can hear the guards yelling outside, hears the door being ripped open. Remus’ eyes are wide - Sirius stares into them, tries to memorize as much as possible, all the bronze flecks in a sea of gold. 

“Why?” Remus breathes. “Why did you - “

Sirius cuts him off. “You’re not real,” he says. “You’re an illusion. Something the guards made, I don’t know. You’re not him. I never proposed to him last year. I thought he was the Spy. I broke up with him.”

The guards are behind him - he holds out his hands, lets them drape even more shackles on his wrist. The illusion regards him curiously - Sirius wonders how he ever thought it was Remus. The eyes are too cold, the face devoid of any warmth, a pale copy of the fire that was Remus.

“How did you know?” the illusion calls out, as Sirius is dragged away.

Sirius closes his eyes. “You didn’t count the scars.”


The torture begins the next morning.

A Bride for the Prince - 6

A03  ~  < Previous  ~  Next >

The last time Adrien had so much fun at a festival—or even in general, for that matter—was back in his childhood, when he’d passed his days away playing with Marinette during his summer vacations in DuPont. True, Nino and he had shared some amazing times since then, but that could hardly compare because spending time with Marinette was always special, fantastic, and unreasonably enticing. Adrien doubted he could explain it in words; one had to feel it to understand. That she was still as amazing as she was back then was delightful, and Adrien would lie if he’d say that letting this evening end wasn’t disappointing.

Getting caught going down Marinette’s balcony was another blunder he didn’t need or want today.

“You know—” Nino quirked an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, “—I’m very curious as to how you’re going to explain this.”

Keep reading

Imagine Barry being frustrated that he can’t convince you to stop stealing things using your meta abilities.

Originally posted by henycavil

Barry stood in his lab, the news making him scrunch his face in frustration.  He wanted to run; run right to you and just make you stop stealing.  When you’d started stealing from different mob families and other criminals, without hurting anyone, you weren’t on Team Flash’s radar.  But now you had upped your game, and were in competition with Leonard Snart.  Touring museum jewels, rare artifacts, and more had gone missing once it entered Central City.

“Barry?” Joe asked.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…”  Barry shook his head.  “There’s good in them, I know it.  I saw it when they saved that kid.  I just can’t figure out how to make them–”

“Barry if I’ve learned anything in my years as a cop, it’s that you can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do.  Look at Iris when she had her blog on the Flash, look at you, and your extracurricular work.”  Joe raised his eyebrows at Barry.  “They can turn invisible, phase through walls–”

“What?  You think this was inevitable?”  Barry started to pace when he started to think Joe was right.  Who could have those abilities and not consider taking what they wanted?  “No,” Barry declared,  “I’m gonna talk to them again.”

“Barry you don’t even know where–” Joe began, but Barry had already run off to find you.


Holla mi gente!! It’s been awhile since i post any of my stories, just wanted to say how grateful i am that you guys still keep asking for my stories regardless my slow ass timeline 😭😢 it’s just how my writing process works and i hope all you good people can understand, i don’t just want to write straight up smut or any story actually, i really want my story to have some back stories so y'all can dive into it. Ok imma stop babbling now, this is for a request from an anon where You and Chris got into a pent up sex, warning cursing and degrading is included. Hope y'all enjoy this one and to the anon who requested this, sorry i made you wait so long!! BESOS BB 😚


Music blasting and you’re not completely sober anymore. Couple of beers and some cocktail, you feel light-headed and hot. Only now you wonder where the hell is your roomate, it’s been almost an hour since you guys arrive to the party. She told you to hang around and get something to drink while she look for her boyfriend, whos friend is the host of this private party.

You’re not the type to chrash some stranger’s party and besides it always gets to hectic and you usually hate rowdy crowds at parties. Unexpectedly, this party is pretty chill. Everyone just hang around and although the music is loud, it’s the type of music you jam too.

There’s no surprise you almost totally forgot about your roomate. You wonder if she ever found her guy. You decide to check up on her, since you’re unfamiliar of the house, the kitchen seem to be a good place to start your search.

You still have your balance but you can feel the alcohol taking effect slowly but surely. Walking into the kitchen, there’s a couple of people hanging around but your roomate isn’t one of them. Walking pass the kitchen you decide to go up the stairs, the moment you reach the top, instantly one room attracts you. The door is not completely shut and you can hear bickering coming from there.

Making your way slowly towards the room, you can definitely tell one of them is your roomate’s voice. You’re close enough to tell she’s arguing with a guy and it doesn’t sound good.

“What the fuck Chris! You were totally checking her out just now”

“So what!? I was just looking, I was hugging you! wasn’t I ????!!”

“Wow Chris I feel so much better now!! Why don’t you just fuck her, oh wait maybe you already have!”

The room got quiet after that, you can’t really tell what’s really going on in there since you’re just eavesdropping. Then before you could back away from the door, the guy reply but he sounded hurt. He’s not shouting but you can clearly hear the pain in his voice.

“Well that’s an idea”

Before you could back away, the door jerk open and your roomate freeze when she saw you behind the door. She seems all wrecked up with her mascara running down her cheek, the tears looks fresh and you can tell his words broke her. You’re about to say something but she rush pass you.

“I gotta go Y/N…”

When you turn around she’s already going down the stairs. You wanted so badly to chase after her but you’re more tempted to tell whoever this Chris guy is, a piece of your mind. Turning back, you saw him standing by the bed, running his fingers through his hair, you can hear the muffled curse under his breath.

“Hey asshole! that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend!”

Your anger suddenly burst out of you. Turning his head to you, his intense brown eyes pierce through your walls effortlessly. Tightening his jaw, you can tell he’s not in the mood to talk.

“Look Chris right ? Listen whatever it is that you guys are arguing about that doesn’t give you the right to talk to her like that. She happen to be a really nice person and I don’t think a guy like you deserve her at all!”

“You don’t know me, so do yourself a favor and just fuck off bitch..”

His comeback makes your blood boil.

“Excuse me, what did you just call me ?!”

To your question, he instantly let out a frustrated growl before he throw his cap across the room. His sudden action startled you, now facing you he took a step closer. From the sound of his voice, you can tell he’s on the verge of exploding and from how he kinda slurring his words, he’s clearly under some alcohol influence just as much as you.

“Look just leave me alone or else….”

Your brows perk up, you’re not entirely sure what he’s thinking of doing if you decided to stay and confront him further but one thing you’re sure off is that he’s a massive jerk and you wonder why your roomate ever go out with a guy like him. Crossing your arms across your chest, you decide to stand your ground and instantly your action made him sigh in disbelief.

“What ? You’re gonna hurt me with your words ?”

Practically clentching his teeth while he took another step towards you, he reply once more but this time you can hear his patience running thin

“Ay puta madre! Shut up or I’ll fuck the shit out of your mouth bitch!”

Instinctively his words provoke you to the point you instantly reply him with a slap across his face. Red marks stain his cheek but that wasn’t enough to stop him, instead he took you by surprise when he reply you with a rough kiss. The moment his lips touches yours, your immediate reaction was to slap him again but his hand catches yours in the action.

Pressing his lips harder and deeper on you, he pulls you by your hand, closing the gap between your body and his.

As your body chrashes each other, his erection presses up on you. With his other hand, he trap you by your neck. His lips keep on attacking yours and your ability to resist him is wearing off.

Picking up on your nerves, Chris surprises you when he suddenly soften down his kiss, capturing your upper lip in a sensuous way. He evoke your lust, damaging your last line of defence, his thumb then caresses your soft cheek as his lips overlaps yours. Instantly, your walls crumble down and your eyes suddenly closes, you can feel him turning his head as his lips beg for entrance, he’s soft yet demanding at the same time.

To this your lips opens ever so slightly as your body surrenders to his touch. Releasing his grip on your hand, he now runs them on the side of your waist while his tongue slowly slips into your mouth.


You shouted in your head, when his wet and long tongue went into you, twirling his way in, Chris practically harass every single nerve in your body while he presses up against you. You can feel how big he is from the way he brushes himself againts your entrance. Burning your core instantly. Gently stroking your waist as he’s making out to your mouth like theres no tomorrow, you couldn’t keep it in any longer, a soft moan greets him and you finally reply his kisses with your own.

Fuck that subtle moan of yours entice his sudden hunger for your body even more, cupping your soft cheeks, Chris claps his bulge with your entrance and that made you moan so loud.

Pulling away from the kiss, his forehead is all press up againts yours. Unlike you, he’s still able to lift up his lids. Slurring, his words kisses your lips.

“Stop me now if you don’t want this..”

You instantly protest against that notion, your arms hangs around his neck as you shake your head lightly. Your eyes were close, but your hands slowly grip onto the hair at the back of his head, a clear sign you want him as much as he wants you.

Running his fingers along your arms, he unbuckles your embrace, guiding your hands down to his suffocating member. Pulling down on his pants and boxer slightly, he release himself for you. His guidance then continue with him using your hands to jerk his growing girth.

Biting down on your lips, you eyes drop down to his protruding shaft and you can literally feel yourself juicing up for him.

“Like what you see nena ?…”

Before you could respond, Chris slide his hands at the side of your breast, the fact that you’re wearing a singlet work wonders for him. His hands slips through the side of your singlet and the first thing he does is to pull out your breast. Messaging it with his palm as his thumb tickles your already erected nipple, instantly he earns a wholesome moan from you.

His other arms wrap around your waist and hugs you, he then quickly capture your soft breast into his mouth, softly and slowly sucking you, and what turns your head even more is in the way he grit his teeth around your nipple only to leave you breathless when he bite onto your bud as his darken brown eyes pierce up to yours, knowing all to well he’ll end up making you drop your jaw and moan for him.

“The other one…”

You don’t want to sound desperate but with all his tongue work on your breast, the other one is getting extremely swell up and in need of instant release. Your words catches up to him just as he was licking your bud, a smirk appear at the corner of his well curved lips as he allign his face with you.

His thumb hook onto your lower lips and the coldness of his stainless steel ring punctured your senses, so much so you can’t help but to start subtly sucking on his thumb. Your shyness combine with the neediness in your eyes made him hissed as he watches you taking him thumb in.

Your hands caresses his and it immensely turns you on when you feel your digits run across his veiny hands. Pressing your thumb on his wrist, your eyes slips down to the sight of his green veins pops up as you put more and more pressure onto it. His lips travels from the side of your face all the way to your ear, luring you into the intensity of his unexplainable hunger for you with his hot airy breathing against your skin.

“Ready for me mami ?…”

That question almost made you hit your climax, you can’t explain it, but the sultriness of his voice penetrate into you so deep, you swear you felt it in your core. Running your digits carelessly in his palm, naturally Chris intertwine his fingers with yours.

Meanwhile his other hand skip the romance with your mouth, as he sinks in deep in your pants, so deep he’s cupping one of your cheeks as he squeezes it roughly, creaming you instantly, leaving stains on your undies.

Somehow he knows that so while his lips capture parts of your skin that rest just below your ear, Chris took the opportunity to shake your soft cheek and that finally broke your walls down. Releasing your grip on his hand, you quickly raises his shirt up, in which he lets you slips it over his head. He does the same for you, the sensation of his fingers running on your bare back as he unhook your bra, trigger a series of moans from you.

Turning you towards the bed, it amazes you how he manage to keep his lips lingering all over your neck, as he sets you on the bed. God was that a relief to finally has something to settle on.

Pulling away from you, Chris slips his hand around your neck, stopping you from laying completely he pulls you foward. With your elbows naturally supporting your weight, Chris brought one of his foot up at the edge of the bed, alligning your head straight to his harden member. You know he’s not asking, it’s clear enough you guys are not making love.

You prop yourself up and straight up starts to jerk his body, twisting his length in your palm, you peck his tip multiple times, encouraging his erection to grow.

“Damn mami..”

His touch to your neck turn into a grip and as he starts to build a trusting motion, you begin to take his length into your wet mouth. Finally his moans catches up to him, lace with his relief hissed, you know you’re working him right.

Inch by inch you take him deeper with every thrust, creaming his body while you palm his heavy loaded balls. Looking down on your pretty face his thumb caresses your cheek, before he goes back to thrusting your head faster and harder.

He hits the back of your throat, his jaw drop and he grip your hair into a ponytale, the view is just mesmerizing to him. Jerking himself out only to start pressing up against the walls of your mouth. Fuck he was pressing so hard his shaft pop out from the side of your mouth and that drive him crazy.

You can tell because right after that, Chris bend down and peck your lips only to start biting on your underlips as he pull away.

He’s slurring in spanish and you can’t comprehend how fucking hot he is. Besides the details of his inks, it was that cheeky grin of him that gets you all riled up.

Pushing you down on the bed, he slides your wet panty off. Licking his fingers, as his eyes gaze down on you, he then rubs his wet digits up and down your clit. Your pussy swell up almost instantly under his touch and he’s not playing nice with you, picking up on his speed he starts racing up against your dripping pearls.

“Shit mami! already so fucking wet for me ?”

God you swear your head completely drop back while you arch your back forward, your pussy need more friction and your ears are hungry for his dirty talk. All this pent up lust broke out of your sweet lips and you lashes out at him while your knuckles turn white from all your gripping on the sheets.

“Fucking fuck me now Chris!”

Grabbing onto one of your breast, Chris leans back slightly with his jaw almost clenching. Now its his knuckles are turning pale from the grip he has on your breast, striking a different kind of chord inside of you.

“Tell that bitch, Daddy fuck you hard tonight, do you hear me mami ?”

Your mind quickly runs back to reality and the realization that your roomate’s boyfriend is about to fuck you while she’s probably crying her eyes out, drown you in guilt.

But before you could act on it, Chris flip you around and grab hard on your soft cheeks, bending over he then starts biting your cheeks down to your inner thighs, marking you like a wild animal in heat.

No longer in your guilt trip, you are so fucking turn on by his series of lustful bites, that you don’t even mind all the marks he left on the surface of your skin, let alone the thought of your roomate. You curl-up in the sheets as Chris continue to ravage you this time with his big wet tongue. Licking the irritations on your skins, he’s dangerously close to your dripping pussy. Fuck did that made your thighs tremble and that doesn’t go unnoticed.

His tongue quickly flicks your wet holes and that made you scream in the sheets, you couldn’t hold it together anymore, slipping your hands down to your beating pussy, you start fingering yourself while your moans fills up the room.

Seeing how needy you are, pushes his erection further, flipping you back on your back, he straight up starts spreading your legs open. You’re still fingering yourself but as soon as he starts alligning his tip at your juice up hole, you completely forsake what you’re doing and focus on his eyes.

Once his tip presses into you, he glance up to you. Leaning down he gives you a quick peck on the lips before resting his temple on yours. Pulling away, his lips hang just above yours brushing them with his series of spanish curse words, he pushes deeper into you.

Your eyes are barely open, with the alcohol running in your bloodstream and his huge girth pushing into you, nothing but lust overcomes your body.

When his hips starts thrusting, your tight pussy hugs his shaft and you can’t comprehend how intense this feels. His not your first but it’s been so long since you had sex and that made you realize how much you needed this.

Fuck the way his burying his shaft inside of your creamed up pussy deeper and deeper with very thrust, driving you closer to your orgasm. After several steady thrust, Chris is sensing you start to loosening up this is when he decides to starts fucking you properly.

Propping himself up with one arm while the other guide your hips, he starts rolling into you consistently. Hitting all the right spot, you starts to feel the walls of your pussy begin to burn.

Clapping your hips with his, your hole swallow more and more of his lengthy girth. By now he’s so deep into you, you start to feel him banging up to your stomach, damaging your senses, he jabs into you hard and non-stop.

Yours hands run up his solid abs and from all his heavy thrusting, his abs presses up firmly against your hands and that somehow drives you even more closer to your climax.

“Fuck i’m cumming Chris…”

To your alert, he ensure he didn’t slow down. Propping himself up he capture your neck and slowly he starts choking you with his two bare hands. Pressuring your airways, your cheeks turns red and your pussy is beating and dripping harder then ever. Literally jabbing into you, this time he makes sure he hits your g-spot hard. His choke tighten as his jabs harder into you. Fuck does everything in your body burns like crazy. You can barely feels your thighs from how spread up your legs are and nothing can compare how juice up your pussy is from all his devilish thrusting and choking.

“Fucking cum for me mami!”

God you swear he can curse just as good as he can fuck, the tight knot quickly builds up in your stomach and you grip onto bedsheet harder than ever, you walls trembling and your chest closes in, thrusting into you the last time this time he pushes himself super deep into your gold mine and sets your climax free.

Keeping you in a trance, he loosen his grip on your neck, you instantly moan out his name as your orgasm hits you. Pulling out Chris then start jerking himself real fast, pointing down to your stomach, his orgasm reaches him just a matter of seconds after yours. Creaming your bare stomach with his heavy white cum, Chris groan out his relief. God he sounds so fucking sexy, hearing him settles your nerves.

Coming down on yours climax, you finally able to lift up your heavy lids. Instantly meeting his big brown eyes, Chris looks back at you.

No words come to mind, you just fuck your roomates boyfriend and theres no way of justifying that, both of you knows that.

Still theres this warmth about him you just can’t get a hold off. Leaning up towards him as Chris retreat back from the bed, you softly caresses his shaft. Its more settle down than before but he still had some firmness to it. To your action, Chris leans down to your lips and before capturing it with his own, his thumbs brushes your soft pink lips.

You tenderly reply his kiss before pulling away. Once more meeting each other gazes, Chris broke the silent first and his words completely caught you off guard, calmly he said

“Remind me to be a gentlemen next time nena”

His charming smile greets you and you completely blank out of replies.

“Just kiss me nena, can you do that ?”

To his soft chuckle you can’t help but nod lightly and Chris passionately capture your lips with his. Melting you down to bits, his kiss completely erase the thought of cheating out of your mind.

kitteria  asked:

“I’m going to protect you.” for ryder and kandros? ♥

[I’M SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER. Also, the bit about Kandros and stasis pod is canon, taken from the Uprising novel. <3]

Parts of the Nexus were still unsafe for human habitation, though Kesh’s team of krogan had done admirable work on repairing the station so far. With the re-discovery of the three missing arks, however, space was at a premium, and Wren Ryder could only make new outposts so quickly. If she wanted to be a true Pathfinder, she would have to find paths even in the most unconventional of spaces- within the twisted wreckage of the Nexus, areas hit by the Scourge and depressurized ever since.

Kandros followed close on her heels, the security of the station his primary interest. “I don’t need a babysitter,” she told him, not exactly gently.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ryder. I’m here to make sure you don’t make any holes in the station any bigger than they need to be and collect whatever caches the Exiles left.” In reality, there were probably weren’t any left, but whatever excuse Kandros made. It wasn’t as if Ryder was going to argue against spending more time with him.

Thankfully, there were no bodies. Just twisted wreckage that she had to shove aside, Kandros stepping in to help when her flimsy human arms failed her. They pushed deeper and deeper into the Nexus, towards the heart of the damage. “Shit.” Over comms, Ryder’s voice sounded crackly and indistinct, like it belonged to someone else.

“It’s still bad,” Kandros agreed, shoving aside twisted metal and sweeping a hand in front of him in a sarcastic ‘after you’ gesture to Ryder. “But at least it’s not on fire anymore.” The char marks were everywhere though, staining pristine white walls. Every now and then, a burnt out console would stand, testament to the damage done. Room by room, inch by inch, they would take the Nexus back, but it could take years to undo just a few minutes of collision with the Scourge.

They entered a small side room together, the door whirring back and forth, half-closing and then opening again. “I thought this part of the Nexus was powered down.”

“It should be.” Kandros frowned, crossing the small space to examine a wall mounted computer, trying to flick the screen to life but getting nothing other than a blue blur. At one point, this was probably meant to be a small apartment, a studio big enough for one but bare-bones and utilitarian without an occupant to lend it personal touches. Five steps to cross the room completely; Ryder poked her head into what would have been the bathroom, but there was nothing there except the lines for plumbing.

“Shit!” Kandros’ curse drew her back out into the main room in time to see a spark escape from the console, a surge of power that echoed through conduits in the wall with a lurch, causing the door to slam shut all the way with enough force to make the room lurch; not entirely difficult, given that everything in this part of the Nexus seemed to hang together with nothing more than hope and bare metal struts.

Part of the ceiling collapsed, the metal superstructure holding it together crashing down. Kandros pushed Ryder back and she fell, which was preferable over being impaled. “You okay?” she asked as she stood, dusting herself off. The already small space had been cut in half, debris floating in the air and looking dubiously heavy.

“Fine.” Even through the static of comms, Kandros sounded strained; he had retreated to the wall, looking outwardly and twisting his head left and right, left and right.

Knowing a lie when she saw one, Ryder placed her hand on his arm. “You sure? You don’t look fine, Kandros.” It was difficult to prove any further tactile comfort in full armor, though she tried to squeeze his hand through the gloves.

“I don’t like small spaces, Ryder,” he said, taking a deep breath.

Shit. That Kandros might be claustrophobic was something Ryder had never considered, though she’d heard how he was trapped in his stasis pod when the Nexus has first arrived, and how Sloane literally had to pry him out with a modified crowbar while he could only pound on the lid, helpless. “Ryder to Kesh. Kesh, we need extraction and a team of krogan at the coordinates I’m sending immediately. We should have cleared the way enough, but we’re trapped and we can’t lift the beams on her own.”

“Sending them Ryder. ETA fifteen minutes. Stay put.” Kesh sounded calm, capable, but it did nothing for Kandros, whose ragged breathing filled her ears.

“Kandros, stick with me. It’s okay. I’m going to protect you. Sit down.” He listened to her only reluctantly, sliding along the wall to fold his lanky body up in that way so particular to turians, and she sat down next to him, arm around his shoulder. “Kesh is sending some krogan to pull us out. Just stay with me. Deep breaths, with me. In, out.” She mimicked the rhythmic cycle, putting his hand to her chest to feel the way it rose and fell even through the suit.

Slowly, Kandros took on her own breathing, one hand reaching for hers and clutching it tightly. “You won’t tell anyone, right Ryder?” He sounded better now, though he wasn’t trying to stand yet.

“Five more minutes and we’re free. Your dignity is safe with me.”

“At least I still have more thank you.” Though Kandros’ joke was a choked, forced affair, it was still there, and behind her faceplate Ryder smiled. Kandros turned his head to look at hers, and they touched helmets, resting the faceplates together and closing their eyes. Five minutes more, and they would be out of here. For now, they had each other, and she would protect him from his own demons for as long as it took.

“Redemption” - Tamlin

@hermajestymanon I shall win this war. 

Feyre’s eyes snapped as magic slammed into her forehead. She was falling, falling an impossible distance. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she wasn’t sure who caught her. 

Feyre gasped, blinking slowly. “Tamlin?” Feyre whispered, staring into his bright green eyes, his eyebrows pinched in concentration. Feyre could feel the waves of magic vibrating around them, she could feel an evil, stronger magic pushing against Tamlin’s. 

“It would help if you stood up, beautiful” Tamlin gave her a crooked smile, thick blood slipping out of his mouth. Feyre rolled to the side, landing in a crouch. “I have your back,” Tamlin grunted and he let the shield fall, just as Feyre sliced out with her own magic. 

“Move,” Tamlin urged her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He half dragged, half carried Feyre down a long corridor, his blood still dripping out of his mouth. More blood slid from his nostrils, but he kept moving. 

“Tamlin. Tamlin, we can’t leave them!” Feyre shouted, crying out in agony when she put too much pressure on her right leg. Tamlin swore and he leaned Feyre against the wall, handing her his blade. 

“I never planned on leaving them. Give me some credit, Feyre” Tamlin shoved his hands outward, a wave of magic rippling through the corridor, tearing it apart. The ceiling fell. Tamlin grunted and he looked down at Feyre. “Stay” 

Feyre heard his back crack. Tamlin tilted his head back and roared and Feyre covered her eyes as a beam of bright light flashed before her. When she looked back, Tamlin was gone, but she saw the shadow of a beast on the walls. 

Feyre blinked slowly, gripping Tamlin’s blade and her own Illyrian one. She breathed through her mouth, trying to understand where everything went wrong. So, so wrong. Who had betrayed them? Did someone even betray them? Or was the King always one step ahead? 

Was the King always one step ahead even with Tamlin helping them? 

Feyre went still when she heard footsteps. She forced herself to her feet and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Tamlin, burdening the weight of three grown Illyrians on his body. 

The beast’s front leg shook, then snapped, causing Tamlin to fall. Azriel and Cassian moaned as one, falling on their sides. Feyre scrambled to her feet, helping Rhys up, putting his weight over her shoulders. She gripped his arm, staring down at Tamlin. 

Move” Tamlin grunted, before he stood up. His arm hung loosely at his side, but the High Lord slammed it against the wall, and Feyre cringed as he knocked it back into place. “Feyre, cover our rear. Protect their wings” 

Feyre blinked slowly. The Tamlin before her was something new, something different. Feyre remembered when Rhys told her about how he and Cassian and Azriel had trained with Tamlin, how the four of them had become something like brothers. Feyre wondered how many times Tamlin had protected their wings. There was so much she still didn’t understand about their pasts together. 

Tamlin bent down and he picked up Azriel, grunting, and placing the Illyrian on his back. Feyre didn’t want to ask how Tamlin could bear his weight, on top of letting Cassian lean against him. Her legs were shaking with just supporting Rhys. 

“Am I being saved by Tamlin?” Cassian whispered, his eyes dazed and unfocused. Tamlin gave a droll half grin, blood still coating his teeth. 

“I owe you a few” Was all the male said, before he started walking. Azriel, balanced on one shoulder, his limp body pressing into Tamlin’s back, his wings hanging, unmoving. Cassian, his legs leaving a trail of blood, arm wrapped around Tamlin. Rhys, helping Feyre more than she was helping him. All of them, beaten, broken, in pain, dying. And Tamlin was bearing their weight, helping them escape. 

“Why?” Feyre whispered. She sent a wave of magic behind her blindly, hoping it would delay their attackers. “Why are you saving us?” Feyre whispered. Tamlin turned his head, his eyes narrowed. 

“Ask them when you all make it out alive” Tamlin grunted, shifting his shoulders so Azriel wouldn’t fall. He continued to walk, his legs buckling each time. Feyre doubted they would make it. She didn’t know how long Tamlin could hold two Illyrians, she didn’t know how long she could hold off an enemy she couldn’t see. 

“Feyre, go” Rhys whispered, pointing forward. Feyre noticed the thick closed door. Tamlin stood by it, gently leaning Cassian against the wall, then slid Azriel from his back. He gripped Azriel’s face and tapped his cheek gently, mumbling under his breath. 

Tamlin stepped away from Azriel, before pushing the door open as far as he could. He braced his back against it and Feyre watched as his legs grappled for purchase, the door pushing against him, as well. Tamlin reached out, grabbing Cassian’s forearms. Cassian swore heavily as Tamlin dragged him across the floor, and pulled him into the darkness. Tamlin now only used his leg to keep the doorway open, pulling Azriel in after Cassian. His face was contorted in pain, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his skin. 

There was a shriek and Feyre stumbled into the wall, Rhys falling after her. The ground shook, the very castle shook. And Feyre was positive the entire island was shaking with the King’s rage, mixed with his beasts. 

Tamlin’s fingers linked with Rhys’s and he dragged the High Lord forward. Rhys seemed to be yelling something, almost pleading with his “enemy”, but Tamlin ignored him. He pulled Rhysand into the darkness next. 

Feyre lunged forward and Tamlin caught her as the castle shook again. The King’s monsters finally caught up to them. “You aren’t coming with us,” Feyre whispered. Tamlin’s arms slacked against her back, their noses almost touching. 

Not so long ago, they were in this embrace, because Feyre was lying to him. Pretending to love him; pretending, lying, being a spy. It was all the same. Not so long ago, Tamlin was a beast. A true, living, terrifying beast in the body of a man. What Feyre saw before her, was one of the best stories of change and redemption she would possibly ever know. She hoped to one day paint the story of Tamlin. 

A man who wasn’t born a beast, became a beast, and died a man. A good man. A good man who made mistakes, accepted those mistakes, and tried to make amends. A man who was using his life to save three Illyrians who had hated him for centuries. To save a girl who should have never entered his life anyway. 

“Do me a favor?” Tamlin whispered and Feyre nodded. She felt the same vibrations around them again. Tamlin had a shield that split the corridor in two, keeping the enemy forces at bay for as long as he could. “Remember me like this? You didn’t know me before, but, remember me as I am now?” 

Feyre took in his face and she pressed her hand tightly against his heart. Tamlin shuddered, knowing Feyre was pressing against his stone heart. She nodded once. Then she was flying and arms wrapped around her middle. Feyre didn’t think she would cry when Tamlin died, didn’t think she would fight for him. He hadn’t fought for her. But as Rhys held her back and as Tamlin stood on the other side, slowly pushing the door closed, she screamed. 

She tried to scramble forward, kicking at Rhys, scratching his arms. Tamlin had no right to make himself the sacrificial lamb, he had no right to choose when he died, he had no right to stand there, smiling sadly. 

He had no right to make himself a martyr. 

Feyre wanted him to live so she could punch him in the face for trading his life for theirs. 

“Tell my sister I said hello” Rhys said. Tamlin nodded, before the door closed in front of them, leaving them in darkness. Feyre cringed as she felt the walls shake, as she heard a roar, as Rhys dragged her down their escape route. Their only change at survival. 


She would keep her promise. Tamlin would be remembered as he was in his last moments. 

Tamlin roared as the door closed. He clenched his fists, baring his teeth at the King’s forces. He looked to his left and a girl stood beside him, smiling, joy in her eyes. She swung an Illyrian blade around, her eyes shining. 

“I knew the man I loved was still in there,” Chiara said. She took a step towards him, and grabbed his hand. She swung her blade again in her left hand, squeezing his own hand. “I love you”

“I love you too,” Tamlin laughed softly. “I missed you. They’re safe; your brothers are safe. Your wings…I kept them. I’m so sorry”

Chiara paused, her eyes twinkling like stars. “I know. It’s okay” She took a small breath “They’re alive because of you. Welcome to martyrdom, my love” 

“Is this what you felt like?” 

Chiara pulled him close, pressing their brows together. She swallowed softly, running her thumb down his cheek. “It isn’t such a hard decision to make. Your life for the one’s you love. Yes. This is what it felt like. It will be short, I promise” 

Tamlin nodded, swinging his own blade. 

Then Chiara ran forward and Tamlin ran after her, slicing through the beasts, right after she did. Her slices, her stabs, her kicks and jabs, did nothing. But Tamlin did as she did, taking down as many as he could, before he was overwhelmed. 

Tamlin was knocked onto his back, drowning in the sea of enemies, and he grunted. He head slammed against the floor, cracks spreading across the floor in his wake. He looked to his left one last time, and he saw Chiara standing over him, smiling. Her violet eyes were swimming with an emotion Tamlin couldn’t place. 

“I want to save you again. I don’t want you to die” Anguish. That was the emotion. But also…happiness? Possibly happiness, because they would be together again. 

“A little late for that, my star” They both bowed their heads, and then there was nothing for a long time. Tamlin was lost in an eternity of nothing, of everything, of nothing and everything. 

Then he opened his eyes, and there she sat. Under the night sky. Leaning back on her palms. 

Tamlin thought it was more than he deserved. But he would not question it. 

He walked forward and sat by his mate. Chiara leaned her head against his shoulder and their fingers intertwined, their joined hands resting on his knee. Tamlin pressed his lips against her forehead, nuzzling her hair. 

“Rhys says hello” 

World War Maas II continues. 

A few causalities have been reported. 

But the masses still stand.

Not for long. 

anonymous asked:

Hi! I love your writing โค๏ธ I was wondering if you could pretty please write a one shot where Reggie finds out his girlfriend is abused by her father (if you don’t feel comfortable writing this I completely completely understand ๐Ÿ’•) and he stepped in and basically saves her from her own home? Pls?โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’•โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’•โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’•โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’•โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’•โค๏ธ

Broken Home

A/N- Okay I want to make this clear, I’m not romanticising abuse in any way. It is such a shitty thing and I’ve seen what it can do to people both mentally and physically. If you as a person are affected by this, Please remember that you are not alone! You have people who care about you. There are people and places to reach out to. I have also never been abused by my parents- like the ‘y/n’ in this fic. I have tried to research and make this as realistic as possible. Because there is absolutely no reason to sugar coat anything related to this topic.

M a s t e r l i s t

Reggie Mantle was never perceived as particularly academically gifted. That was for the most part, true. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t notice things.

After his dad left him and his mom, he had a tendency to look out for others in a situation similar to his own. For the people who silently suffered and endured all the pain that they didn’t deserve.

Abuse was something Reggie was familiar with. He’d perfected the art of lying to his peers at school about the bruises that were constantly being littered across his skin. Saying that they were from football practice.

The messed up thing was that he couldn’t confide in anyone, because he would just be told that he was weak, that he needed to just man up to his dad. That it wasn’t real abuse.

So he went through it alone. Something he’d never let anyone go through alone.

Most people in Riverdale knew Reggie as the “stupid, rich football player”, he saw himself as the weak, pathetic boy who couldn’t stand up to his own father.

Y/N hadn’t though, Y/N could see right through the wall he put up to protect himself. Because she had the same defense mechanism. The same wall that protected her from the judgement of everyone in this shitty, little town.

Riverdale- the town that created psychotic killers and abusive parents. The town that was the reincarnation of hell. The place of suffering.

More often than not, Y/N found that sleep was the only way to escape. Even if it was for a few minutes, it was an escape from everything that she was forced to endure when she was awake.

“Where’s the little bitch gone?!” A slurred voice rang out, the crashing of glass following soon after.

Y/N felt her heartbeat spike in fear, Her mother was the worst when she was drunk. She got physical and violent.

Y/N immediately scarpered to the wardrobe and climbed in, she felt her body shake and her throat tighten. Her arms wrapped around her knees in an attempt to get some sort of comfort.

The sound of her Mother’s stomping footsteps came closer.

“Y/N,” the last syllable of the name dragged on, “Where are you?“

Y/N felt the tears start to form, but was determined to keep her hiding place a secret. That was until the sounds of her possessions hitting every other hard surface hit her ears.

She let out a small whimper, when she felt what she assumed to be glass hit the wardrobe door.

It was then when the door was ripped open and Y/N was dragged out, sobbing and crying out for mercy.

“Mom! Stop please stop!”

She felt pain coursing through her veins, and the vague shouts of her to “shut up!” She felt disoriented and scared.

Y/N’s body was thrown down onto the floor, down into a pile of glass debris. She felt nothing but pain. Hot, searing pain.

Before blacking out she saw the hazy figure of her mother, towering above her imposingly. She felt dissociated like she was watching from the outside. She watched despairingly with tears welling up in her eyes as her mother threw one final kick to Y/N’s ribs and spat down on her, before she finally lost consciousness.

She woke up to the generic hospital smell, the beeping of the monitor and the blinding white walls of what she assumed to be the local hospital.

The first feeling that Y/N felt rise in her was panic. Or more specifically what the hell her Mother would do to her when she was released.

She would be so angry and so undeniably pissed. And the beatings would be ten times worse that usual, and it scared her. She felt trapped, like she had no other option than to endure the pain.

The beeping of the monitor became more rapid and quick paced. Y/N was getting even more anxious- she didn’t want to answer questions on how these injuries had occurred.

Instead it alerted a sleepy person sat in an uncomfortable looking chair, in the corner of her room. He immediately bolted up right, panic clear in his eyes too.

He was tall, muscular and Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t think he was handsome. He had somewhat tanned skin and raven hair that had obviously not been attended to for a few day. Reggie Mantle.

The star football player, took small steps forward trying to show that he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“W-Why are you h-h-here Mantle?”

“It was my turn to return the favour.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion, her face prompted Reggie to explain what he meant.

“I know you called the cops on my dad Y/N.”

She felt her heart stop  and her face heat up, “I-I-” Y/N stuttered, “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. I’m glad you did it. Y/N you saved my life.”

“You know my name?” Her head cocked to the side. All she got in return was the classic Mantle smirk.

“See you around…Y/N.”

Reggie didn’t know what to do. He felt conflicted on what he should do. Should he report whoever did this to Y/N? Should he keep an eye on her? Or should he just forget it all?

He thought back to when he was in the same position, how he wished someone would intervene and save him.

And as unmasculine it sounded- he remembered fearing for his life. He thought that he would be caught by his father and punished for trying to get some support.

So what did he do?

He’d try his best.

For the next few weeks you’d noticed Reggie’s behaviour becoming…different. He hovered around more, watching you as if he was trying to figure something else. Whether there were any new marks lashed on you probably.

In all honesty you hadn’t been back home since the ‘incident’, instead you chose to stay with a friend on the Southside.

You were so sick and tired of this abuse. You wanted to turn in your mother. You wanted to leave Riverdale and never come back. But you were scared, a coward.

You knew that your ‘mother’ would hunt you down and kill you, if you got her arrested and you wouldn’t put it past her to do something as horrific as that.

Cut to a few months later and Reggie was still at a loss of what to do. So he did the only thing he could think of. Asking his Mom for advice.

He walked into the living room to see his mother sat on the couch, glasses on and book in hand. Completely in her own little world.


She looked up and smiled at her boy, but it fell once she saw the sad look on his face.

“Reggie Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” She placed the book aside and opened her arms for him to hug her and gain some comfort.

“I need your advice Mom, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

She sat the both of them down and sighed deeply, “What’s going on Reg?”

Reggie rubbed a hand across his face, “There’s this girl and I know she’s being abused. Like badly abused. The same girl I visited in hospital a few months ago- and I don’t know what to do.”

His mom smiled sympathetically, “What’s her name?”


“The same Y/N that turned in your-“

“Yes.” The simplicity and finality in his voice was heard.

“What I was going to say was that, she saved our lives. She ended the one thing that gave me the most pain in my life. Which was watching you get beaten down every single day. I am forever in her debt and I will do anything to help her, even if that means she lives under our roof for a short while.”

Reggie nodded, it needed to happen. This needed to end.

The next thing he did was called the Sherrif’s office in town, anonymously tipping off that something was happening at the Y/L/N residence and that he was concerned as a neighbour.

About 2 hours later a fast paced knocking sounded on the door. Reggie and his Mother were locked in a gaze. The footballer creeped towards the door, paranoid that it may be trouble. He counted to three and yanked the door open.

Only to see… Y/N, sopping wet from the torrential downpour outside. She was sobbing hysterically and shivering uncontrollably. There were red patches of what he could only assume was blood on her shirt.


She stumbled clumsily into his arms, her breath becoming a spurt of hyperventilated gasps.

Reggie turned back to where his mom was around the corner.

“Mom! Come quick!”

He immediately heard the quick paced steps on the wooden flooring, a gasp was heard.

“Oh god. Reggie take her to the couch, I’m going to get a first aid kit.”

He complied to his mothers words, swooping you up into his arms. He felt you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Your hot breath caused goosebumps to pop up all over his skin.

“Y/N, you need to tell me what happened. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

“S-She did it a-again. She b-beat me… b-but this t-t-time she went t-too far and she tr-tried to s-stab me. Her new b-boyfriend t-tried to f-force himself-” Reggie watched as you wiped your tears away, his shirt was soaked with tears but he didn’t care.

“She succeeded b-barely, I only j-just got c-cut. And then the p-po-police showed up and a-arrested her. And now I’m h-here I guess.”

Her teeth were chattering, she was freezing.

“How did you know where I liv-“ he was cut off.

“I didn’t. I just ran and this is were my feet took me. And now I’m homeless and worthless and damaged.”

“You are not damaged, nor worthless.” The hard voice of Reggie’s Mother sounded behind them, she carried a red tin box with a white cross in her hands. “You are brave and so so strong.” She placed a snuggly blanket around both teens and sat down at Y/N’s feet, taking a shaking hand into her own. “I know what’s it like. But you’re a survivor. You fought through this and we are both proud of you.”

You nodded slightly before wincing at the unbearable pain in your side.

“Right lets get you cleaned up.”

After you were all stitched up, had taken a warm shower and changed into some of Reggie’s clothes. You walked down the corridor to what you could only assume was Reggie’s room. You knocked softly this time until you heard the muffled “come in”

He saw you enter and an immediate smile was placed on his lips, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You frowned and sat down next to him, “No I’m not.” You tightened your fists into little balls, “I’m unlovable, I’m a waste of space and nobody could ever lo-“

A pair of warm lips covered yours, effectively stopping your self destructive rant, breaking apart you pressed your foreheads together.

“You shouldn’t be with someone like me.”

“I think you’ll find that you’re way out of my league and I’m so lucky to have you.”

“But Reggie, I’m unlovab-“

“Well then, it’s a shame that I’m already in love with you.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise

“Let me show you what love is like, let me look after you and take you out on dates and be completely whipped for you. Just let me be yours. Be my girl.”

You’re thoughts were overwhelming, each of them flooding in almost to fast for you to handle.

“Okay, I’ll give us a chance.”

“A chance is all it takes.”