#You Know Before Too Long You’ll Be Dead And Gone So Tell Me Right Or Wrong? (мσχχιє)

[e-m-p-error]

I have decided to make some muses Discord Only so that I can clean up my muses some! The following I'll still write but they will only be available on Discord.

St. Peter Sera Ace Apple Clara Dodie Fizzarolli Hen Moxxie Odette Paradise Verosika Lilith Cherri Bomb Eve Vaggie

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Wait for you | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?

Warnings: angstt, some fluff:3

Word count: ~2,3K

Lando had been told since he was very little, how time passes slowly when one is not enjoying themselves. But good God, no one could have prepared him for the agony that the past two months have brought into his life. And how it was entirely the play of no one else but the woman he loved that was becoming his ruin.

To put it easier, today marked the start of May, which meant that it has been exactly two months since you were cursed with amnesia following a minor car accident.

How it happened and more importantly why, not even the doctors could tell.

Lando was told that you’d get back most memories in the first few weeks and if that did not happen then the time can be extended into a month for the return of life as they’d known before the accident.

It was only a day later as your eyes set upon your visitor and without any introduction you knew exactly who it was.

“Oscar!” your voice held longing and excitement.

Your best friend was standing in the doorway smiling with all his might, while a certain someone was clearly overlooked. Lando thought that he could burst out sobbing just that moment as your eyes passed over his as if he were only a stranger. And to you he was. Now at least…

That’s how the past two months have been. Lando looking at you looking at Oscar…

You did still spend most of your time in the garages with the McLaren team, but you were there not for Lando and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without telling you all about your past.

‘Screw those damn doctors’, Lando thought. Maybe if he was allowed to remind you, you would be sitting next to him right now, gracing him with one of your brightest smiles and asking him about the car and not Oscar.

Sometimes when Lando is exceptionally tired he forgets that now is a different you than his you. He plops down on the sofa beside you and lays himself down on your thighs. How is it that you always smell so good? Touching you has always held a relaxing nature to Lando and now it was just as splendid. Almost as splendid… Now your hands did not lovingly engulf him in your warmth, there was no kiss on his head, there was only a stiff hand petting his shoulder. Lando felt internal cold radiate from your touch.

Your hugs have gone cold too.

Lando knew that blaming you was wrong as it was in no way your fault. You didn’t choose to forget him but still remember your best friend Oscar. But God, that did not lessen the pain.

Two months. It’s has been two months and Lando has almost no hope left that you’ll ever look at him with a loving gaze again.

He has done it all. Repeated his actions from the past, when he was trying his best to ask you out. It worked last time, it made you fall in love with him, but now it was a dead end as he could see you force a smile on your face each time...

If Lando’s life was not reduced to an absolute nothingness, he also had to watch his teammate and friend win his first title before him. Although that didn’t hurt half as much as watching you, watching Oscar in the same way you used to watch him standing on the podium.

His heart was screaming at you. No! Look here! Just a bit to the right! I’m here! Please see me…

Your eyes did drift to Lando and you did offer him a thumbs up, but the look in your eyes had also drifted, to a new look altogether. Your eyes were no longer reserved only for him and that thought alone took living out of life and turned it into mere existence.

Lando still remembers (how could he ever forget really) the way your soft gaze spoke louder than words could. Your eyes were love personified. And now they were on Oscar, not on him...

If Lando thought his heart broke the moment he saw you in that hospital bed and you had no recollection of whom he was, now it fucking shattered into tiny, tiny pieces.

As more days flew by Lando started losing it. Too early to accept that he’s lost you, too late to get you back… Those were the only thoughts roaming around in his head.

You on the other hand knew nothing of the boy’s torment. To be honest you knew nothing of that certain boy.

If it was not for Oscar, you feel like you would have never even looked twice at someone like Lando Norris. Yes he was gorgeous and had eyes the sweetness of a morning blue sky, but he was also a guy who had everyone’s attention and he drank it up like a thirsty man.

Since you waking up in the hospital, Oscar has been doing everything to acquaint you with Lando. He was never too forceful with making his two friends a pair of friends as well, but he was relentless, never fraying from the task.

Oscar told you things about Lando that were hard to believe at first. Like yes, Lando was a good guy, just as Oscar said, though you could feel how the older man was holding himself back in most occasions as if to not overwhelm you. It made you confused.

Lando Norris confused you.

He’d watch you while you were with Oscar without saying a word, then some other time he could not shut up about something when it was only you and him, which didn’t happen much.

Lando was also a very touchy person, he’d hug you, put his hand around your shoulders or rest his head on your lap after a session.

It was sweet how he seemed to like you so much, but sometimes it felt like there was something more and you were missing that all narrative.

So to repeat, Lando Norris confused you. Intensly.

But you also confused yourself.

It confused you how your own hands would naturally find their place wrapped around his torso or resting on his back whenever he touched you. How your fingers would thoughtlessly tangle themselves in his curls whenever his head rested upon your thighs.

It was all very confusing yet strangely relaxing.

 “Osc?” you looked up from your place on the counter to find your friend wiping sweat away from his face.

“What’s up?” Oscar’s voice was out of breath.

“Is Lando okay?” you watched the older boy stomp out of the garage. His eyes a beautiful storm.

“Agh.. he’s pissed at himself for the mistake on the last lap, heard he was talking himself down on the radio and the interviews,” Oscar let out a sign of concern.

You’ve always been empathic towards other people and you’ve begun caring about Lando even if he was weird at times, but he was Oscar’s friend and certainly really nice to you.

“I feel bad for him… he beats himself up a lot,” your head stayed turned at the direction Lando had just walked out.

Oscar seeing the opportunity decided to use it wisely, “Maybe you should go talk to him?”

“But we’re not that close, I don’t want to make him more upset by prying information from him,” you quickly turned back to your friend.

“But do you want to talk to him?” Oscar held eye contact with you as if trying to prove you something important.

“He’s sad and he’s alone. I just don’t want him to be alone…” you pick at your nails, not clearly understanding where this care for the older boy came from, but Oscar knew and he knew that he’s done it, he has paved the last tile for you to take the first step towards your Lando. He could see it in your movements, just like the first time all those months ago.

“Then go, don’t let him suffer alone for longer than he needs to,” Oscars words meant more than you could understand in this moment, but all you could think about was the sweet boy who was now beating himself up alone in his room.

It didn’t take long for you to jump off the counter and set of in the same direction Lando had just minutes ago.

“Lando?” you knocked on the door, peeking into his driver room, something about the scene feeling too comfortable as if you’d done it time and time again before.

“Oh he’s not here hun, he went outside to cool off a bit,” you came face to face with his PR manager, a sweet woman indeed.

“Have you any idea where?” you inquired, you wanted to find him as soon as possible.

“I’m not sure dear, but I’m sure you’ll find him.” she gave you an encouraging smile before exiting the room, leaving you alone to rake your brain for a place where Lando might be.

So you went to the only place where you knew no one would go to, simply because there was nothing to see, unless you looked up.

There he stood, leaning on the railing, lone as the first star in the night sky, and then you heard it, his heartfelt cries echoing in the perimeter, filling the lonely space with sounds of pain.

You slowly come closer to him.

“Lando?” you put your hand on his shoulder.

Lando’s hands are wrapped around you in a crushing hug before you could even finish your sentence, his face buried into your neck as his tears pooled into the crevice of your collarbone.

When you snap out of the shock, you barely graze his body with your hands and he remembers that it’s not you. At least not the same you that used to be his and detaches himself from your warm hug apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry” he cries more as he looks into your eyes and the look in your eyes haunting him, you don’t look at him like that anymore. He turns away from you and slumps down on the bench crying with his whole body which makes your own tears build.

You could feel his pain, that’s how prominent it was.

“Lando please don’t cry like this. It’s just a sprint not a grand prix even, and that one mistake was nothing, you still finished on the podium. Please Lando you should not beat yourself over this.”

His cries do not lessen so you take the matters into your hands, literally.

You put your hands on his face, wiping his tears with your thumbs while telling him all the best things that he is.

“You - are certainly too good of a driver to worry about such a thing and you are too good of a person to hurt yourself so much over a mistake. Lando Norris you are not allowed to beat yourself up over a mistake in a race! You cannot. I’m taking away your right, the only person that can tell you anything bad about your driving is me! Understood? From this moment on you’re the greatest man on that track unless I say otherwise!”

Lando now noticed how he stopped crying because he was focusing on your voice that was all directed at him and no one else.

“Don’t you think Oscar is better than me?” Lando’s voice was small with uncertainty.

“Oscar is great and he knows it, you on the other hand seem to forget it at times… I’ll make sure you never forget. Deal?”

“Deal,” he let out a breath holding your hands close.

You freed one of your hands from his grip making him open his eyes, terror in them, up until you ran your hand through his curls, fixing his hair a bit before your eyes travelled back to his.

“What?” you asked perplexed by his gaze.

“You are a really good person Y/n,” Lando’s eyes glided upon your face as if he were kissing your skin with his gaze.

“You deserve to have good people around Lan,” your voice softened further.

There it was. That word. His nickname. Lan.

The last time he heard you say it was the last time you were his you.

Before you forgot him…

“Let me take you out to dinner,” when would he ever shoot his shot if not now.

“Are you seriously using this time to ask me out?” you chuckled as you held his hand firmly.

“You can’t say no or I’ll cry again,” Lando gave you his best puppy eyes and you positively folded in his touch.

You chuckle at him,“But only because I hate seeing people cry,” you try to convince yourself as your heartbeat had picked up due to the unbreakable eye contact from the man. And it did physically pain you to see him cry.

When you walk him back to the garage where the team is beginning for a debrief you stop him, before he can go in, with a whisper in his ear.

“Just for the record, I wouldn’t have said no,” you kiss his cheek and give him the eyes, the eyes he’d been waiting for, for months now.

You were coming back to him and Lando knew he’d give anything up just to have his girl’s eyes gazing back at his…

^^

A.N. ... there most probably will be a second part... hehe..

[obvi-the-best-soph]

we're all bound to break. (chapter 2)

alexia putellas masterlist: here requests: here

based on this request: R tells alexia about her parents but makes alexia promise not to tell the team. alexia agrees of r agrees to speak to the team psychologist/ try and improve her eating and general health. either the team find out through social media or listening to r in an interview getting mad/ upset about a question about her parents. r blames alexia for telling people bc she hasn’t told anyone else. alexia comforts her + happy ending

word count: 2,123k

summary: you tell the team about your mami and papa, alexia helps you through it, an interviewer asks a tough question, and you're paid a visit from someone who is less than friendly.

genre: angst/comfort warnings: disordered eating, mentions of vomiting, death of parents, swearing, grief, struggling alone, eating while recovering from an ed, possibly very bad spanish (sorry! i try lol).

chapter 1: here

a/n: hey! ive had a lot of requests for chapter two of this story, its taken me a while because i didn't really get any requests and i was struggling for ideas, so it has taken a month, but the long awaited second chapter is here! i didn't really follow the request too closely, but I think it turned out alright, hope you do too. requests are always open. <3 :D

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“Superestrella, we need to talk. There’s something wrong, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

You froze. You assumed there were still tear tracks down your cheeks, your eyes still bloodshot, and clearly, Alexia knew something was wrong. But she didn’t seem to know what.

“I- uh- what? There’s nothing wrong. Just… tired is all.” You try to explain, stuttering out an awful and clearly fake excuse. “You look tired too, maybe you should go to bed and we can talk later?”

“No,” Alexia states firmly, sitting down on your bed next to you. “Chica it smells like sick in here, have you thrown up?” she asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Well not really, I think I just ate something bad earlier, it was only a little bit-” You attempt to lie again, but she cuts you off. 

“Stop bullshitting me amor, just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” she says. That’s the thing, Alexia’s a problem solver, a bit like a man, just wanting to fix everything for everyone so we can all be happy with no problems, but she couldn't fix this. Mami is dead. Papi is dead. They are gone. You can’t undo death, no matter how hard you try.

After nearly 20 minutes of back and forth, “There’s something wrong.” “No, there’s not, I’m fine,” Alexia pulls out the big guns, completely oblivious and unaware of how big they are now.

“Superestrella, if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to call your parents and you’ll have to talk to them. Please, just tell me, I only want to help. I hate seeing you so introverted and quiet all the time, I miss your laugh, guapa.”

And with that, the guns are fired, and the dam is broken. You burst into another round of tears, burying yourself into Alexia’s side, head on her chest. Between sobs, you manage to get out the words,

“You can’t help! No one can help! It’s all ruined!”

before falling asleep from the effort of crying and earlier, denial. Now, Alexia is seriously worried.

Alexia lets you sleep on her for a moment before carefully manoeuvring you to lie down and slipping out of your room. Once in the lounge area, she sits down on the edge of the couch, resting her elbows on her knees, face in her hands. Her thinking position, because she was thinking pretty fucking hard right now. What on Earth had happened? What had gone wrong to make her happy, giggly, pestering Superestrella, so- so…. Broken?

Finally, she decides to call Mapi, she knows that Mapi was out late celebrating last night too, and is probably also dealing with a killer hangover, similar to Alexia’s currently, but she deems this important enough to warrant a call.

The phone rings three times before a very croaky-voiced, tired, and generally-recovering-from-being-completely-plastered sounding, María León is heard;

“What Alexia?” 

“Mapi, sorry, I know now probably isn’t the best time, but… it’s Y/N, she-”

Before Alexia can even get a word of an explanation in, a now far more awake and alert sounding defender is cutting her off, clearly very worried, “Chica? What about her? Is she- is she okay? What’s wrong?”

That morning, it was organised that at training in a few days, Lucy, Keira, Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid would sit you down after training, and you would talk.

It’s been a couple of days since the Champions League final, most members of the team are still on the winning high, while others are starting to settle a bit, but today is the first training back since the big game. You go about training as normal, struggling your way through it with next to no will to live and an empty stomach, but when you’re in the locker room, Alexia taps you on the shoulder. You two haven't spoken much since the other morning after her night of celebrations.

“Hey, a few of us just want to have a quick meeting with you before we go today, sí?” she says, her tone softer, more gentle, than usual. 

You nod awkwardly and finish changing before heading to the meeting room Alexia had told you to meet at, only to find 5 of your teammates sat there, watching you like you’re a Porcelain doll that could shatter at any second, and that was slightly true. 

“Um, hola Todas?” (Hello everyone.) you say with slight suspicion, eyeing them one by one as you slowly sit down in a chair at the long glass table. There’s a collective murmur of “Hello”s in various languages before it goes quiet again. Alexia speaks up first;

“Superestrella, we’ve all noticed something is wrong, and we just want to help. Truly, that’s all we want. You are usually all sunshine and rainbows, but recently you have been walking around like you have rocks in your pockets and a storm cloud over your head. Por favor niña, déjanos entrar. (Please girl, let us in.)” she says in a slightly pleading tone, the other women are all looking at you sympathetically. 

“I- nothing is wrong. I’m just… uh… tired! I am tired. We have been training a lot recently so I haven’t been feeling the best recently! That’s it. Si. Estoy cansada. (I’m tired.)” you reply quickly, desperate to get out of here and back into bed so you can continue wallowing your sadness and grief, alone. 

They all give you soft, yet slightly unimpressed, looks of ‘Come on. We all know that’s not it.’

“Chica-” Mapi starts, but she’s cut off by Lucy’s thick accent,

“Y/N please, let us in. You know we would never judge you or anything like that, we just want to help, as Alexia said. Teammates are here to support you off the pitch just as much as on it.”

“Yeah, what Lucy said. We love you like a little sister, Y/N, and we’re worried about you.” Keira adds. 

A collective nod and hum of agreement spread through the room. You sigh. It was getting harder and harder to pretend. 

“I- ugh. Okay. Fine. There is something wrong.” You finally relent, the lump already forming in your throat, the familiar glass returning to your eyes. The 5 women around you perk up a bit, glad you’re starting to open up, even if it’s only a little.

“What is Cari? (Cariño- sweetheart.)” Ingrid speaks up for the first time, her accent thick as always. 

“It’s… it’s my parents.” They frown. They knew how close you were with your parents, especially your papa, so what could be wrong that has to do with them? You close your eyes and take a deep breath, tears falling silently down your cheeks, you’d gotten good at crying quietly, preparing to voice the words aloud for the first time. To make it all real.

“They- they’re- they- died. Dead. Gone.” you open your eyes to find 5 women staring at you in horror, eyes wide, mouths open, and sympathetic looks from them all. But it was Alexia’s face that made the tears fall, she was the only one who knew how you really felt, who truly understood. It was her arms that you felt around you first, she didn’t say anything, she just held you for a while.

After a few moments, you spoke up again, your voice a little more steady this time.

“It was 2 weeks before the Champions League final. I got the call from the police back in (your hometown), they- they were driving home from our match, there- there was a drunk driver. The driver hit them at nearly full speed, they- they didn’t survive the impact.” 

The horror on the women’s faces only grows, Alexia’s grip on you only tightens. 

It’s a good few minutes before anyone says anything else, and the one to speak up this time is Lucy.

“Oh god Y/N, that- that’s awful. Why on Earth didn’t you tell us? We would’ve helped you, supported you-” her tone, growing slightly frustrated and upset, is cut off by a firm pat on the thigh by Keira, telling her to cool it a bit, the defender going quiet.

“I- I didn’t tell you because…. Because I didn’t want you to pity me, to treat me differently, and you guys already worry about me enough, so I didn’t want to add to it right before the final. And also… I just- I just couldn’t say it out loud. Not then. It was too soon…”

That conversation or “meeting” as it’s now referred to, went on for a long time, feelings were discussed, tears fell, hands trembled, and eventually, you and Alexia were left to go home, and you felt a whole lot lighter… possibly because it had been 3 days since your last meal, or possibly because you had finally confessed your secret. 

When you arrived back at the apartment, Olga was anxiously waiting there for the two of you. During the meeting, the subject of your eating had come up, you had confessed to skipping meals and intentionally not eating, and agreed to try harder to fuel your body the way an athlete should. Clearly, Alexia had shot Olga a text or something before we arrived, as there was a bowl of your favourite sitting, waiting on the table. Eli’s (Alexia’s Mami.) homemade paella and blue Powerade. Gently, Alexia sat you down at the seat in front of it and sat next to you, she put the spoon in your hand and made you eat a few bites, and then she just slipped into conversation with you, a random conversation, about school and friends and the new set pieces, etc. And before you knew it, you had been so distracted that you had eaten the whole bowl without even thinking about it. It felt… good, being full that is. Alexia smiled softly when she saw your small smile and took your plate up to the sink, before sending you off for a bath and a nap with a kiss on the forehead. 

A couple of days after the whole ordeal, you were asked to do an interview. Where you would be talking about the Champions League final, what it was like to score both the goals for Barca, one in the last few minutes too, how you celebrated afterwards as you were not allowed in the changing rooms, but worst of all, a question you weren’t expecting, weren’t ready for, 

“So Y/N, everyone is very familiar with your papa, your biggest fan, often seen wearing your jersey and waving his flag, but he was not spotted at the final, we were just wondering, is he okay, or just sitting somewhere else?” The interviewer asks with an unknowing and innocent smile. 

You have to swallow the lump in your throat before you can respond, you manage to keep the smile on your face, and voice steady (barely). 

“Oh, yeah, no. He, um- Unfortunately he wasn’t able to make it.” You say with a curt nod and ever so slightly pursed lips, the interviewer getting the hint not to pry any further on the question.

That night, you were curled up on the couch, laying across is, your head in Alexia’s lap, crying… again. You hadn’t been prepared for that question. It had scared you, Alexia understood, she knew how hard it was to talk about it (from personal experience), especially if you aren’t aware the subject will be brought up. Alexia whispers soothing Spanish words, her nails scratching your scalp calmingly, when there’s a knock at the door. 

Alexia frowned and looked at the clock, it was 7pm, not usual visitor time, no one was meant to be coming around, Olga was out of town with friends… who was it? She carefully moves your head from her lap and kisses your forehead before going to answer the door, as she walks over, you prop yourself up on your elbows a bit to see who it is.

The midfielder opened the door to find a woman standing there, she was young-ish, probably younger than Alexia, mid-twenties maybe, but rather… uptight looking. At first, you couldn’t see who it was, the woman and Ale exchanged a few words before Alexia stepped aside, you and the woman now having a clear view of each other… 

Your expression changed quickly, features hardening, eyes narrowing, jaw clenching. You practically jumped off the couch in anger, stomping up to the woman, and standing very close to her. With a cold look and tone, you spoke to her;

“What the fuck do you want to take from me now, tía (aunt)?” you spat the last word like it tastes fowl in your mouth… 

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a/n: i hope you enjoyed it! if you are wanting a third chapter, please don't just say "chapter 3 pls" or something like that, please give me actual ideas or requests in my inbox. kind critisms is always welcome too. thank you for reading! 😊💖

tag list: @multifandomlesbianic

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄? ✮ F. LÓPEZ

summary. fermín wants to celebrate his new trophy with you.

warnings. 18+ mean! fermín. smut.

gabri speaks! paz!reader universe is back due to popular demand.

the view of the apartment the guys rented for the party was breathtaking. madrid was a beautiful city, you were glad your brother had convinced your parents to move in with him. although right now you were alone in madrid surrounded by a bunch of players you didn’t know. a bunch of players your brother hated. in the midst of drunk players and their friends you kept tugging your short red dress every five minutes. you were beginning to regret even coming, you were only here because of a certain blonde. a blonde you had yet to see.

“didn’t bring nico?” you’re startled by a familiar voice.

“why? you have a crush on my brother?” you ask him surprised at the sudden interest fermín had for your brother.

“no but it would’ve been nice to show him what a trophy looks like.” you can barely see him through the dim lights but you know he’s smirking. you can hear it in his voice.

“if i’m not wrong you barely had minutes. i’m not too sure you have any bragging rights.” you test him.

“and somehow i played more minutes than your brother has his whole career.” his tone changes. “watch your mouth. you look prettier like that.”

you’re taken aback by his change in demeanor quite frankly you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up. he’s rough and threatening, his good boy facade long gone. you’re amused by the way he’s acting wondering if he’s trying to get you to sleep with him again. you place your hand on his jaw while the other goes into his hair, tempting him.

“it’s such a shame that you could be celebrating your win but instead you’re bitching about my brother like a sad little envious child.” you say sharply not taking insults to your brother lightly.

the smirk that once adorned his face was now gone and you could tell he was mad at you now. he grips your hands away from him with such a tight hold you’ll know they’ll be bruised tomorrow. his eyes pierce into yours with a threatening look and you realize you’ve successfully riled him up.

“okay, that’s it.” he murmurs.

one minute you’re looking at fermín dead in the eye and the next you feel his hands grip your waist. his hold is so strong on you that he manages to carry you over his shoulder with ease. you’re not that surprised at how easily he’s picked you up, you’ve noticed how bulkier he got over the past year. when the guy you’ve been fucking on the low gets hotter you notice.

“fermín! put me down!” you shriek.

the blonde just finds it funny laughing at your vulnerability. your screams manage to get the attention of his teammates and their guests. the least you could say is that he was embarrassing you in front of everyone and you hoped that none of the real madrid players were here. the last thing you needed was to get embarrassed and scolded by your brother. the faces of the guest slowly fade away as fermín drags you to what you can assume is his room. he gently drops you on the bed before laying down next to you.

“you’re such an asshole.” you whine as you fix your dress. it’s then that you realize that some of the guests had probably seen your dress skirt up, your face heats up instantly at that.

you don’t get to bicker at him for much longer because he pulls you on top of him. his hands instantly go towards your hips — a muscle memory for him by now — and holds you. you can already feel him grow hard against you and you get excited. the two of you had just argued and now here he was with a hard on. he thrusts up against you causing a whine to slip past your lips at the sensation.

“such a shame that you could use your mouth for beautiful noises like this instead of arguing.” he murmurs under his breathe trying to contain his groans.

it’s your turn to grind against him causing his breath to falter. he places himself against the crook of your neck as you continue your movements, leaving wet kisses along your throat. you move your hands into the light curls of his hair as you feel yourself growing wetter.

“instead of trying to compete against my brother every five seconds you could be fucking me but you don’t see me complaining.” and there you go always trying to have the last word.

“shut the fuck up and spread your legs.” he groans.

you hesitate but you obey nevertheless. his hand trails down your figure until he places it firmly on your thigh, teasing you. he knows you need him and the idea of making you frustrated is amusing to him. you can’t stand it anymore — his touch being so close yet so far — you yearn him. it’s almost pathetic except for the fact that you know he feels the same way. he’s the one who wanted you first and he always ends up satisfying you even if he’s mad.

his fingers slowly tread up your leg and you grow frustrated at the edging. you can’t stand it anymore so you drag his fingers to where you need him the most causing a teasing laugh to leave his lips. you know he’ll give you shit about this later but you don’t care, you need him. he also seems to think the same as he doesn’t waste time spreading your wetness along your folds. your hips instinctively grind into his hand as his fingers start circling your clit causing waves of pleasure throughout your body.

“oh, fuck.” you whine as he brings a couple of his fingers towards your hole.

“say you want my fingers.” he looks at you with a defying grin. “say it or else i’ll leave you here all alone.”

“fuck fermín please.” you gasp as one of his fingers enters you slowly. “i need your fingers, please”

he leaves a quick kiss on your jaw before inserting you with his second finger. your body collapses against his chest as he fucks you slowly. the intrusion is sudden and your hands grip the sheets below you as he fills you up. the feeling is intense and you feel feral at the way you moan without holding back. the thing about fermín was that while he was asshole at least he fucked, hard. his free hand grabs you by the throat forcing you to look at him as you ride his hand.

he looks at you in awe admiring the way your eyes get glossy as you fuck yourself on his fingers. he analyzes the way your hair bounces with every movement of your hips and how your eyes close and your nose scrunches a bit before reaching your peak. he adds a third finger hoping to help you reach your high. you’re full on whining in his ear now as he fills you up completely. the sensation of your walls clinging to his fingers so tightly also allow him a sense of satisfaction.

“fermín. please.” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for. you only knew that you were close.

“you’re so close.” he whispers as he pulls you in for a kiss. the kiss is sloppy but soft. a mixture of lost and love. it scares you, nevertheless you come around his fingers gasping as you wet his fingers.

“fuck, that was hot. you’re hot.” fermín rambles as he helps you come down from your orgasm.

as you adjust your dress and fix your hair fermín watches you intensely. he’s tired of only seeing you like this and never normally. he hadn’t slept with anyone else since you came into his life and you were making him crazy. the feeling of knowing fran was so close of having you too was too much for him and he wasn’t sure why felt so possessive about you.

was it just lust or was it love?

[andersonfilms]

SWEET RELIEF (MINORS DNI / EIGHTEEN+)

notes. this request is a beautiful, god send. i've been wanting to write about this, but i've kinda been too scared to bc i wasn't sure if anyone would like it. nonnie, u made my week with this request nd i really hope it doesn't disappoint. i changed it a little bit, but not too much. yeahhhhh, i might be ovulating bc?????? anyways.

content desc. eighteen+, huge mommy!kink, sub!abby, dom!reader, masc coded!reader, tall!reader (coded) my lil shorties can still read it too, reader picks up abby, brief mention of reader working out, oral (abby!r), anal (just spit on), fingering, mentions of strap use, squirting, light degradation.

“you’ve been such a good girl. you deserve a reward, don’t you?” your stunner of a girlfriend was bare in front of you. she’s your personal adonis, every muscle sculpted to perfection. her abs clenching, anticipating what your next move would be. freckles scattered around her body, her pierced nipples were so sensitive from all the teasing, swollen and pink, just the way you liked them. abby’s moans were erratic, shallow breaths as you touched her everywhere except where she needs most.

“baby, please. need you to fuck me…so good. jus’ like you always do. you’re pretty little mouth, yeah? need you to taste me.” abby begged as her she found herself shivering. “i’ve been so good, so so good. i didn’t touch myself the entire two weeks you were gone. i’ll do anything, say anything. i just want you to fuck me.”

“you will, won’t you? my babygirl is so desperate to be fucked? isn’t that right?” you flick her clit with your digit. abby cries out your name, deprived of your touch for two weeks, she savors in every moment.

“god, you’re the only one who can make me come. couldn’t even if i tried without you.” as sweet and sensitive as she appears, intentional hands reach for your belt tugging at it, but you slap abby’s hands away.

“nothing is coming off until i make you cum at least….twice on my tongue. does that sound good, baby?” abby eagerly nods, not wanting to per long this any further.

you’re looking her dead in the eye, before your hands wrap around her thighs and pick her up, surprising your girl in the process.

“have you been working out?” you shrug like it’s nothing. abby leans in softly, her lips pressed against yours. she’s never been more attracted to you than she is right now. her strong legs are wrapped around your waist, clinging on as your throw her on the bed.

you climb onto to the bed with her, grabbing ahold of her hips and rotating her body so abby is sitting on her calves, legs bent, sculpted back facing you. she’s fucking divine, as she sits patiently waiting for your touch to guide her. you drinking in her beauty and for the first time, drowning has never sounded so lovely. pretty girl perfectly still for you. there’s nothing more than you need to fuck her so stupid. her cute eyebrows furrowed whenever you ask her question. abby does it when she tries to focus, but all that happens after is stuttering, maybe a fragment of a sentence, before she’s begging to let her come.

tonight isn’t going to be any different. she knows it as you sit behind her, your legs spread so her frame fits, but she doesn’t lean back. abby knows from experience you’ll punish her if she does.

“baby, i don’t think you’ve ever been this good.” you slowly undo the braid cascading down her back. her hair smiles of pine and lavender. you want to drown yourself in the scent.

abby keeps her hands at her sides, but you can tell she’s struggling. her strong hands are balled into fists, knuckles practically pearly white.

“now, bend over for me and show me your pretty hole, baby. show me what belongs to me.” you slap her ass as you lean on your hands, watching her follow your command.

the arc in her back is sinful as she supports her weight on her hands, her knees pressed against the mattress, her pretty pussy is deliciously wet. you’re itching for a taste, but not until you’ve got her a whimpering, pathetic mess.

you bent over her frame, your clothed body pressed against her exposed one. you whisper in abby’s ear, “does mommy have to show you how it’s done? apparently you’ve forgotten, babygirl.”

you create some space before placing a firm hand on her neck, planting her face first in the plush duvet. your hands trails down her spine, pressing enough so she gets the idea. abby arches her back like she’s a fucking pornstar and god you eat it up. she could turn her strength on you, the two of you know that, but she wants to shut her brain off and get fucked and you’ll happily oblige.

you kick her thighs apart further. abby whines but she doesn’t argue.

“babygirl, that’s what i’m talking about. just stay, just like this.” you slap her ass and she jolts forward, her moan caught by the duvet. your hand smooths over the skin, before slapping her again. “good girl. fuck yeah you are. hmm?”

you spit in her puckered hole, your saliva slides down and flows over her cunt. abby wants to just fuck you, wants to full her pussy on yours, she’s so sweet and you’re being a tease. it’s torture. pure fucking torture, but she just has to patient. you’re always so good to her. she knows she’ll get it eventually after you make her cum, but fuck she’s impatient and she wants it now.

for now, all she can do is beg.

“yes mommy, all yours.” abby manages to get out and you slap her cunt as a reward.

“want me to eat out this pretty cunt out? wanna feel my mouth make a mess of this pussy?” abby cries at your words, hands she loves touching the back of her thighs, inside of them, but never where she’s dripping for you.

“please, please, please. i need it so bad. you have no idea how much i missed you, mommy. couldn’t stop thinking about this.”

“thinking about what? tell me babygirl, don’t spare a single detail. you know how much i love hearing you pretty voice, abs.” you kiss her ass, as she struggles to continue. your teeth biting into her well earned glutes and you love to see the shiver wrack her body as she struggles to collect her thoughts.

“i thought about your fingers, how good they feel inside me. i-i thought about when you fucked me the last time, your cunt rubbing against mine and how good it felt. how i squirted all over you and fuck how you just keep going.” abby moaned, overcome with just the thought. “but i mainly thought about your tongue, your mouth sucking on my clit, fucking my pussy as you talk me through it.”

there it was, the soft sniffles clueing you to the tears streaming down her full cheeks. now, you could fucking ruin her.

your plump lips found home on her pussy, soft flicks of your tongue made purchase on her clit. abby was relieved at the sensation. you flattened your tongue against her vulva, her hips rotating so she was riding your skilled muscle. euphoria, it’s all abby felt. all she wanted to feel was this.

she could cum from this alone, but your middle and ring finger found her entrance easily, no resistance was met as you slide them inside her.

“mommy, you feel so good inside me. ah, yeah, right there. oh god, yes, yes, oh mommy. please don’t stop.”

“stop? is that what you said?”

“no! please…i-i need you to make me cum. please make me cum.”

“you think you deserve it?” you taunted abby, moaning against her pussy as your slurped up her sweet nectar, sending a shockwave through abby’s core.

your fingers are hitting the delicious spot deep in her pussy, and you’re hitting it over and over, not relenting for a moment. your tongue joins the whole with fingers for a moment, dipping in and it’s just enough to send abby reeling. not enough to make her cum, but she’s screaming your name, so loudly you wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors abby woke up your neighbors.

“tell me how good it feels, babygirl. yeah? maybe then i’ll let you come.” you command her.

“it feels amazing, mommy. i can’t get enough of it. fucking me so good, so perfect. love being your good little slut. let you do whatever, whenever, just please don’t stop. i’m getting so close.”

“yeah, are you going to cum all over my face? on my tongue?” you grab at her clit with your lips, pulling the bud into your mouth, before flicking it over with your tongue. you circle around the pearl, isolating as you suck on it. your fingers picking up the pace brutally.

abby sounds like an angel being drained by a succubus and maybe it’s what you were. your undergarments were ruined as you humping, well nothing, because this is what it did to you. when abby got off, so did you. she’s so close, you know she is.

you pull from her clit, your thumb doing the work for you so you can press against her frame and whisper in her ear, “cum for me babygirl. yeah? that’s right. squirt all over my fingers like i know you can. such a pretty girl, aren’t you? give it to me, baby. cum right now and i’ll ride your face tonight? c’mon angel, give it to me. right now.”

she does. all over your sinful fingers, she squirts and she gushes over over you as you fuck her through. “oh baby, you’re so good. such a perfect babygirl for me.” abby’s hips ride your fingers as her body wants to collapse, but your free hand holds her left hip and supports her weight.

“feels so good, mommy. fuuuckkkkk.” abby tries to not whimper as she feels the aftershocks of her orgasm hit her like a freight train. your fingers leave and she feels empty again, but you shove your fingers in her mouth and she sucks immediately. tasting herself as your hands press against her throat.

“such a pretty baby, aren’t you? jus’ need your holes stuffed and fucked?” you laugh cynically. “now, let me ride that gorgeous face of yours, alright baby? then, i’m going to fuck this pretty pussy with my cock. would you like that babygirl?”

“please mommy.”

[hard-core-super-star]

Random thought popped into my head but it's about vampire Kate x reader. What if reader was a witch of some sort who got her heart broken because Kate is an fboy and became terrified and left when she realized how much she loved the reader but came crawling back a year later because she needed reader's witchy help and they ended up casually flirting because they clearly still have feelings for each other and stuff

ain't that the kicker [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate x reader

summary: the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that. [aka you and kate have way more issues than you thought]

warnings: none, i think?; did somebody order angst?; so much tension, you need more than one knife; i rob you of a longer wanda scene; cliffhanger ending because this got too long; weird vampire powers that are badly explained; very long dream sequences; a surprising lack of actual vampire stuff [i badly need to rewatch first kill]; idiots in love but emphasis on the idiots!

wodcount: 3.2k

a/n: hey everyone, my motivation was pretty dead for a while but, unsurprisingly, vampire kate brought it back! and before you all freak out, YES! THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART! and maybe it'll be less sad and more spicy, who knows? anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me and my constant disappearing act. my second year at university is wrapping up so hopefully you’ll see more of me this summer ;) that's all i have to say, hope you enjoy <3

part one | part three | part four

* * * * * * *

Saying going home with Kate Bishop had been a bad idea would be a massive understatement.

You knew being alone with the heir of Bishop Security would come with problems but the problems all seemed relatively small compared to the continuous waves of pleasure you had been under all night.

To be fair, though, you never expected a grainy picture of you on Kate's lap to be part of that list of problems. You had expected some awkwardness from the charming brunette, the usual "we can't do this again" speech while actively making out in some random storage closet, maybe even some weird looks from your co-workers to further complicate things.

Your original plan had featured everything except you going viral overnight and waking up to the biggest PR disaster to ever hit Bishop Security. (Which is saying a lot considering the many one-night stand scandals Kate always finds herself wrapped up in)

You had so many ideas of what the morning after would be like but none of them included you waking up to an empty bed and a large pit in your stomach that tells you you fucked up big time.

Maybe it had been your fault, maybe you had been too naive for thinking you could really have it all.

Or maybe Kate was right. Maybe she had a longer list of enemies than you had been willing to entertain.

There were far too many “maybe’s” in your mind, an overwhelming amount of notifications on your phone, and you had no idea where Kate had gone.

You’re not sure how long you spend scrolling through Twitter and avoiding all the texts filled with unanswerable questions from your co-workers but eventually, you manage to regain control of yourself and get up from the archer’s ridiculously comfortable bed. You do your best to ignore how shaky your legs are as you get dressed, your mind unfortunately drifting to the night before.

You manage to find your way to the kitchen where there's a full spread of, slightly burnt, breakfast waiting for you. Your heart swells as you read the messy handwriting on the post-it note next to the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve ever seen.

Morning, sunshine. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I made a bit of everything. Eat as much as you can, you’ll need a lot of food and water to recover from last night ;) - Kate

It’s impossible to stop the wave of relief that crashes into you after reading that.

As impossible as it feels, you allow yourself to believe things will be fine. That Kate will stick by your side after opening up to you about her supernatural abilities.

But the fantasy doesn’t last long.

You’re halfway through your breakfast when you hear the front door slam shut with so much force you briefly wonder if the hinges came off. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for the archer to appear in front of you, her shoulders tense and an unreadable storm in her eyes.

Her posture already tells you the answer to the question forming on your lips but you ask anyway. “Everything okay?”

She seems almost startled by the sound of your voice as if hearing you makes you real.

It makes the mess you’re both in real.

“No,” she sighs. “I have some shitty news.”

“Shittier than being called a slut by all of New York?” You reply, unable to stop the urge to make her smile.

Kate doesn’t fully smile but she does let out a small chuckle, her shoulders dropping into a less tense position as the sound escapes her. “Yeah…shittier than that.”

You should’ve known where the conversation was headed. Should’ve realized there was no way you’d be able to have it all. No way for you to continue with your life as if nothing had happened.

Maybe you are too naive because you truly didn’t see her next sentence coming.

“y/n…I have to fire you and we...we can’t do this again. This has to be goodbye.”

Everything crashes into you at once.

The realization of what you’ve actually done, the stupid ease with which Kate is cutting you out of her life, the betrayal of her practically kicking you out onto the streets. You’re not an idiot, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to keep your apartment, your humble yet expensive life in New York, without your job.

Without her.

“You…you’re serious? You’re throwing me out just like that?”

“It’s not easy for me either-”

“It looks pretty damn easy, Kate.” You scoff.

“You’re not the one who spent her whole morning getting chewed out by her mom.” Her words come out like an afterthought, like she knows just how badly she’ll fuck up if you hear the annoyance behind them.

Unfortunately for her, you hear her loud and clear.

“Oh, come on. That’s your excuse? You had one bad conversation with your mom and suddenly I don’t mean anything?”

She doesn’t reply and her silence only serves to stoke the flames of fury and resentment rising within your chest.

“Do you know how many death threats I’ve gotten in the last hour? How many coworkers have tried to blackmail me already? Do you understand just how much of my life this has ruined? And you have the audacity to act like you have it hard?”

“Don’t pretend like you know anything about my life,” she spits back. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Katherine. If I didn’t know you, if you didn’t care, why the hell did you tell me your dirty little secret?”

She blinks, taken aback by the hard-hitting truth you throw her way.

If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t notice the way she nervously fidgets with her fingers or the way she bites down on her lower lip while she tries to come up with something to say. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t know she’s hurting underneath.

You do know her, though, but knowing her isn’t enough if she’s not willing to let you stay.

So, because you do know her…you walk away.

It feels like giving up in the most infuriating of ways but it’s the only thing you can do. If Kate’s mind is made up, there’s no amount of reason that will get her to change. That’s another thing about her you’ve learned the hard way.

So you swallow your pride and walk away with no plan, no job, no way of supporting yourself. If you were a more spiteful person, you would have applied for a job at Stark Industries but instead, you do the second hardest thing you’ve ever done.

You restart.

It’s a bitter defeat and still, you pack up your things and pay an old friend a visit.

You had left Wanda behind after the Westview fiasco but she’s the only person you can think of running to after your entire life went up in flames. All it takes is one quick spell and the realization that a life without dark magic isn’t one you can live before you’re standing on the porch of her small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Saying she’s disappointed would be an understatement, especially since she explicitly warned you not to fall in love with Kate Bishop. It’s hard to believe the witch knew about Kate’s vampire secret but you also wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what awaited you the second you left for New York.

Unfortunately, you had to learn things the hard way.

You could write multiple books on everything you’ve learned the hard way.

At the top of that list, though, is the true extent of a certain archer’s vampire powers.

It takes less than a month for Kate to reach you again…through your dreams. Dreams that feel far too real and leave you a tad bit more breathless than you’ll ever be willing to admit.

The first time it happens, you assume it’s one of Wanda’s new tricks, maybe it’s her way of helping you cope with what (or rather who) you’ve left behind. You think it’s weird but maybe a tad bit sweet and you make a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.

It’s not until you realize that you’re actively thinking that you start to worry.

To make matters worse, you’re inside Kate’s apartment…and she quite literally stumbles out of her bedroom to see you standing in the middle of her living room.

“Oh, shit.” She groans.

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice. You know you’re just dreaming and yet it all feels so real. It’s like you can feel her eyes on you, hear the way your heart won’t stop pounding in your ears.

Your confusion must be written all over your face because she answers your question before you can even ask it.

“Yes, you are dreaming but this isn’t like a normal dream.”

“What the fuck happened to you not being a mind reader?” You blurt out.

You wait for that stupid smirk of hers to appear, maybe with a half-assed shrug and a semi-charming joke, but it never comes. “My dream, my rules, I guess.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on.”

A beat of silence goes by before she sort of gives you an answer. “I can explain but you might hate me afterwards.”

The look in her eyes says more than you can possibly handle right now. You’ve never known Kate to be particularly insecure but all you can see in those blue depths is fear and insecurity. Fear that your feelings for her have changed, that you already hate her and never want to hear from her again.

Too bad you’ve never been good at lying.

“Try me.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up into a small smile. “Long story short, we’re bonded. That’s why we’re in each other’s dreams.”

There’s a bigger question to be asked but you’re still a little freaked out by how real this all feels. By how intense your feelings for her still are.

“But this isn’t like a normal dream, is it?”

“Nope, perks of having vampire powers.”

“So, you can do everything except read minds?” You can’t help but tease her like all the times before. “That sucks.”

“Shut up,” she says with an over-dramatic roll of her eyes.

A calm silence falls over both of you and you hate how normal it feels. How just like that, you forget your anger and the betrayal you’ve felt every minute since the day you left New York in favor of falling for her stupidly enchanting self all over again.

It doesn’t help that with every second, the distance between you gets smaller and smaller.

You don’t know who takes the first step, all you know is you blink and suddenly she’s standing right in front of you, those soft blue eyes of hers searching for the truth you can’t hide.

“y/n,” she murmurs, her hand tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

She’s technically not wrong, leaving because of her incapability to deal with her feelings was the last thing you wanted, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

She didn’t give you any other choice.

And now she’s here, staring at you with that wounded puppy look she so effortlessly embodies.

“I wanted you,” you whisper in response. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

She chuckles, the sound warm but nervous. Her hand moves to cup your face and her touch is so soft, it leaves you breathless for a moment. “Never, I’m too stubborn for that, remember?”

You can’t help but tease her as the atmosphere shifts into something more affectionate than you’d like. “How could I forget? It’s your worst trait.”

“Ouch. Is that how you treat your favorite vampire?”

“Aw, poor little vampire baby.”

You wait for her to make one of her usual jokes but she doesn’t.

Instead, her eyes drift down to your lips and your mind instantly goes blank.

There’s an endless list of reasons why you shouldn’t do it. Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it isn’t a bad idea. Then again…when has that ever stopped you from being with Kate Bishop?

It’s subtle but you lean forward just enough to give her the invitation she’s too much of a gentleman to ask for. Her eyes widen the slightest bit before she meets you in the middle, the space between your lips becoming nonexistent in the span of a few seconds.

You try your hardest to hold on to your self control, to not seem as desperate as you’ve felt since that first night, but it’s useless. Your hands grip the front of her shirt in an attempt to pull her closer despite how insane everything is.

You’re simply dreaming and yet you can feel every touch, every breath, every desperate effort to make your desires a reality. You would feel embarrassed if Kate wasn’t acting the same way.

Her lips leave yours only to trail down to your neck, her fangs instantly teasing the sensitive skin she finds. The anticipation builds inside your chest as she toys with you and it’s all you can do not to beg for more.

“Kate.” Her name leaves your lips in the form of a whisper that disappears just as fast as it formed.

All you hear is her sharp intake of breath before it all fades to black.

Your eyes snap open and you’re greeted with the absolute silence you’re starting to associate with Wanda’s cabin. All you can do is lay there in the darkness, your heart pounding in your ears while your fingers trace the spot Kate’s lips had just been on.

It had all felt so real and now you’re all alone again. It shouldn’t be surprising at this point and yet you still hold on to the hope Kate will come looking for you.

But she doesn’t.

All she does is haunt your dreams in the most literal way possible. She doesn’t come to find you and fix your many, many issues, instead, she simply appears in your dreams long enough to send your mind reeling without offering any solutions.

You wish you could hate her for doing this to you but you can’t.

You love her.

Worse than that, you love her more and more each night. Even though it’s not nearly enough to heal any of your wounds, and maybe it only serves to hurt you more, it’s definitely addicting.

Wanda offers to help you sever the connection between you and Kate, something about a spell she read in the Darkhold being her only assurance that she knows what she’s doing. You don’t fully trust her on that but you do consider the option for longer than you want to admit.

You reason with yourself that there are much worse things to deal with on a daily basis than highly realistic dreams, though. That being bonded to a vampire isn't the worst thing in the world.

And maybe that would be true…if the vampire in question wasn't Kate Bishop.

You don't know what possesses you to ask but the question slips out in the middle of another midnight rendezvous. It’s been a little over two month since you moved away from New York, a little over two months since you've shared these weird dreams with Kate, when you finally ask.

“What exactly did you do for us to be bonded to each other?”

The question must catch her off guard given the way her eyes widen in panic. “What?”

“You said these weird dreams happen because we’re bonded or something but you never explained how that happened.” You watch the brunette from your spot on the couch and impatiently wait for a response, for something that will help you make sense of everything.

She swallows back her nervousness but gives herself away due to the way she fidgets with the rings on her hand. “Oh, yeah, that…it’s because I bit you that night in my apartment…remember?”

Her awkwardness would be endearing if her response wasn't so damn suspicious.

“Yeah but you're a vampire, biting people is kind of your thing. You're not automatically bonded to every person you bite, right?”

A beat of silence passes before she answers, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “No that…that only happens when there are…certain feelings involved.”

It takes a second for her answer to click in your brain. For her sudden nervousness to hold real meaning.

The answer hits you like a train and it makes your blood boil like nothing else.

“Kate, tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means. Tell me you didn't fire me because you were too afraid of having feelings for me.”

“y/n-”

“For fuck’s sake, Kate!”

The sudden frustration in your voice makes her jump, hundreds of meaningless explanations forming on the tip of her tongue.

You don't hear a word she says.

You can't hear anything besides the pounding in your heart and the devastation that threatens to swallow you whole.

You always knew being with Kate would be impossible but this was something else entirely. This wasn't a lack of feelings between you two, this was too many feelings and too many miles of distance and not one ounce of regret from her.

You're not sure when you stood up from your spot or when she approached you, you simply feel her hand on your waist and the unmistakable sound of her breathing.

“y/n,” she tries again. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so tired of hearing you say that.”

“I know.”

The last thing you feel is her lips on the back of your neck before you wake up. Alone. Again.

Wanda must catch on to your desperation because she brings up the idea of cutting your connection with Kate that same morning.

“It’ll only be temporary,” she assures you. “No offense but you need sleep more than you need Kate Bishop.”

“I’m a little offended,” you grumble in response.

Despite your reservations, and the voice in the back of your head that tells you running away again is a bad idea, you go along with her plan. She's right, after all. You definitely need some time away from Kate Bishop and her never-ending messes.

The spell is simpler than you expect and it, thankfully, requires pretty much no effort on your part and no weird liquids.

It does also bring the best sleep you’ve had in months so you can’t complain…even when you wake up missing the sound of the archer’s voice.

You still miss her every day and you're sure that won't change any time soon but you welcome the peace with open arms.

Wanda spends her time teaching you random spells while you help her build a nice flower garden in the backyard. It's weird but…comforting.

You could even get used to life out here someday.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself as the weeks go by.

Until Kate shows up unannounced and flips your world upside down again with those same soft eyes you fell on love with all those months ago.

[calliesmemes]

DARKNESS STILL HAUNTS YOUR NARRATIVE

ASSORTED ASKBOX PROMPTS from various sources with dark and / or unsettling themes. The ominous feeling from before is still there, and its prominence has only grown …

* TRIGGERING THEMES MAY BE PRESENT, such as death, wealth inequality, and war. Please exercise caution and curate your space accordingly.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed

SPECIFY muse for multimuses

❛ When I look at a person, I see a person — not a rank, not a class, not a title. ❜

❛ What a strange girl you are. ❜

❛ History is written by the rich, and so the poor get blamed for everything. ❜

❛ I could corrupt you. It would be easy. ❜

❛ How many centuries deep is your wound? ❜

❛ You’ll be remembered more for what you destroy than what you create. ❜

❛ Bitter are the wars between brothers. ❜

❛ Power comes with a price. ❜

❛ Your power might destroy you if you don’t learn to control it. ❜

❛ I’m not going to let you anywhere near a battlefield! ❜

❛ War is sweet to those who have never fought. ❜

❛ Cowardice is everywhere in this country. ❜

❛ Which appeals to you more? Power, or love? ❜

❛ Inside my head, the war is everywhere. ❜

❛ You look like your grief and guilt and rage are eating you alive, bit by bit. ❜

❛ Good and evil are a question of perspective. ❜

❛ The only difference between martyrdom and suicide is the press coverage. ❜

❛ Your place is at home; you will fight another day. ❜

❛ How many more children do we have to sacrifice in this war? ❜

❛ When you talk to the dead, the dead will talk back. They’re always there, even if you can’t hear them. ❜

❛ I am half child, half ancient. ❜

❛ You’re like me. You’ve seen too much, too young. ❜

❛ Every word from your mouth, every turn of phrase, will be judged — and possibly used against you. ❜

❛ I prefer the most unfair peace over the most righteous war. ❜

❛ A love like ours could burn down a city. ❜

❛ In my experience, men only call women ‘mad’ when they are doing something inconvenient. ❜

❛ I will do anything to keep you safe from harm. ❜

❛ You wield an incredible amount of power with just your voice. ❜

❛ You know, everything old can be made new again. Like democracy. ❜

❛ You laugh like a little girl, and think like a martyr. ❜

❛ What is a home if not the first place you learn to run from? ❜

❛ Do you understand what it means when you have nowhere else to turn? ❜

❛ The war is never over. ❜

❛ We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it. ❜

❛ I dream of the past as if it were yet to come. ❜

❛ You have endured terrible suffering, haven’t you? ❜

❛ Your beauty terrifies me. ❜

❛ This is war — you never know who’s listening. ❜

❛ This is a land of dreams and madness, where childrens’ stories come to life. ❜

❛ The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believed they were eternal. ❜

❛ I’ll never get used to being alive. ❜

❛ We’ve been fighting this battle for too long. ❜

❛ We swore we’d never bow to tyranny. ❜

❛ Young men fall, I see their agony. ❜

❛ We all carry things inside us that no one else can see. ❜

❛ Your suffering can’t end until you stop identifying with it. ❜

❛ You have to be a bit of a liar to tell the story the right way. ❜

❛ I’m so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything. ❜

❛ You collect scars because you want proof that you’re paying for whatever sins you’ve committed. ❜

❛ You can escape reality, but you can’t escape the consequences of escaping reality. ❜

❛ Is that all you want to be? Liked? Wouldn’t you rather be passionately and voraciously desired? ❜

❛ Sorrow found me when I was young. ❜

❛ The very heavens conspire against me! ❜

❛ Do you like the person that you’ve become under the weight of living? ❜

❛ The evil that men do lives on long after they themselves have gone. ❜

❛ You are not safe here. ❜

❛ I don’t know any places I can hide from the voices that are tearing me apart from the inside. ❜

❛ I am not a legend; I’m a fraud. ❜

❛ Destiny is a worrying concept. I don’t want to be fated; I want to choose. ❜

❛ I am not merciful, and I am not kind. ❜

❛ Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter. ❜

❛ Vulnerability is courage in you and inadequacy in me. ❜

❛ You cannot save people. You can only love them. ❜

❛ This isn’t going to be like last time. ❜

[b0g-b0y]

I vomited this out in 30 min. Not good not bad just meh.

Ghost x m reader. (Shadow company)

Love You More

His eyes scanned the bigger man, it’s been so long since he’d seen Ghost. He used to work with shadow from time to time but Ghost wasn’t a solo man anymore as he joined 141. The memory of Ghost's face still stranded the hallway. The memory of his clothes, weighing on a hanger. Y/n remember that time as they were something but not together it weighed on his heart like a garden that never grew.

The way Y/n saw Ghost looked at soap hurt, why was he so jealous?

Eventually brought out of his thoughts as Y/n overheard Gaz and Soap spit out an insult about shadow company.” Nothing but we dogs they are. Not to be trusted might as well put them down” Y/n overheard one of them say. But not a word fell from Ghost's lips, it stung how he expected Ghost to pipe up and say they were not all bad. But those lines never fell from the man’s lips. Just a small chuckle.

Later that night Y/n found Ghost taking a smoke late at night. Taking the opportunity to light up his own cigarette. “ Simon… how have you been?” Y/n spoke with a small crack in their voice. “ Been good.” Ghost replied with a short gruff response. The memory of Simon stroking their hair in bed together and Simon's deep voice softly speaking that “ I’d never hurt you.” But why did that feel like a lie, what changed so much in their relationship. “ Do you hate me?” Y/n spoke as smoke fell from his lips. “ No more. Y/n. No more of this whatever we had.” Before Ghost could continue Y/n spoke up. “ I’m not Graves! So you and everyone need to stop treating me like a damn devil. I’m not Philip! And I didn’t call out those orders…” Y/n snapped clearly he’s been stuck in his head a lot recently. “ But you’re his damn dog Y/n! You're at his heels the moment he speaks.” Ghost growled. As he throughout his cigarette. “ Fine, throw away whatever you want. You're just what you said you were. You're dead from this world. “ Y/n spoke bitterly. “ I will always care for you more, even if you don’t believe me you know my loyalty is true.” Y/n's heart screamed for him to confess that he more than cared about the British man.

As days passed Y/n stayed awake hoping Ghost would come in his door. But it was never that way it seemed like it never would be like that again. Maybe he was just a dog meant to be put to sleep. Again it seemed whenever Y/n made progress of getting over Ghost he would run into him again.

Shadow Company was meant to lend a hand to 141. But just like last time things went south, how did it come to this? How did it come to this, how was Y/n sitting in an empty room with cracked walls holding his side as he felt warm liquid fall down his hand and drip onto the floor. He didn’t remember, he couldn’t remember.

Y/n's eyes felt hazy; he could barely see the figures that rushed through the door. The faint blur of a skull mask brought a small smile to his cracked lips. However he didn’t recognize the other blur next to him.

His dark brown eyes bored into Y/ns e/c eyes. “ You can tell me I’m to blame if you say you’ll stay for sure.” Y/n said as his words fell from his mouth without thinking. “I feel all the same. I will always love you more.” Y/n's voice broke as he held onto the sleeve of Ghost. “ You’ll be okay Y/n, stop speaking nonsense you’ve gone mad yeah?” Ghost spoke with a panic hidden in his voice. But it was too late and things went dark.

That garden they would have talked about would never happen. That garden would never grow, not now, not ever.

Soap put a hand and Ghost's shoulder. “ Ghost, mate it’s ok he’s just a shadow company member just a merc. Let him go.” The Scottish man spoke. “ He’s more than that Soap it’s complicated… Soap he loved me for me and I turned my back on him, I promised I’d never… I promised I’d never hurt him. I promised so much. It doesn’t matter who he bloody belongs to.” Ghost snapped. Soaps browse frowned. “ He was right he will alway love me more” Ghost said as his voice cracked.

New furniture cracked from no contact

And the garden, it never grew.

[lenaluvbot]

First time for everything

warnings!: (smut/degration kink/praise kink/hair pulling kink/choking kink/dom sub underlines/domination kink)

smut underneath the cut

It was strange.

Orm knew he’d have to stay low til people believed her was dead like his brother told him, but that do mean he actually wanted too?

The first green flag he got he practically ran (his new favorite thing to do) his way to the city called the quote “big apple”

He had never gone away from the ocean unless absolutely necessary. Yet here he was walking awkwardly amongst a group of people when he felt a tap on his back.

“Are you okay sir?”

You had to ask! He was walking as if he’d been shot in the ass.

“Yes..Perfectly fine- But i have a question miss..Where’s this self proclaimed big apple?”

You burst out laughing.

“Self proclaimed big apple?”

“Isn’t this the right place? i’ve been here for days yet no big apple.”

Holy shit! he was seriously saying that!

“You know that’s just a saying right? This isn’t an apple?”

“I wouldn’t know, i’m not from here” Shit. God he couldn’t keep anything to himself.

“Oh really? Where you from pretty boy?”

“Out of town, reallyyy far south like really far i doubt you’ll know where”.

“Mississippi?”

“Uh sure something like that.” He smirked, this was the longest he’d talked to a surface dweller. Let alone the fact it was a woman. A hot woman at that. Shit he hadn’t spoke in a good thirty seconds and now she was staring awkwardly.

“I um have to go but here’s my number, incase you want to actually tell me where you’re from.” You gave him your cell number and smiled as you walked away. If it wasn’t for your scheduled dinner you would’ve continued talking to the mysterious man, even though you sub conscious was telling you to run.

Damn you and being attracted to hot guys.

He continued his walk with a satisfied smirk, was it really this easy to attract women on the surface?

He continued his quest to find said apple but grew bored as he checked into a on surface hotel. He eventually dialed your number into his hotel phone (since he didn’t have a actual one yet)

“Hello?”

“It’s me the guy who was trying to find the apple earlier”

“Oh..Hey, call me to finally say where your from?”

“Something of the sorts, you should come over so we can discuss it.” He smirked looking down at the bed.

“Sure, i’ll be over in a few.”

Like you said you arrived at the hotel with a shirt that made your breasts practically pop out the shirt, pushy? yes. sultry? yes. but he had already called you over so it was obviously worth it.

“You loook…Great.” He grinned at you.

“Thank you.” Your were practically begging to climb the guy down.

“Come in come in.” He ushered you in with his arm, his hand on your back and trailing lower..Giving you a gentle squeeze. You sat on the bed with a little distance.

“Come on, i’m not gonna bite.”

“I know i’ve just never done this before, like going to see a guy at a mysterious hotel, if you weren’t hot i truthfully wouldn’t have even came over.”

“In all truthfulness, i haven’t either.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m far from a liar.”

“I doubt a guy like you has never gone to a hotel to meet up with someone.”

“A guy like me hasn’t even been to the surface before”

Surface? What the hell was he talking about?

“Surface? Okay you don’t have to be sarcastic.”

“Look between you and me, i’m not from around here. I’m from some place a little further south, And i’m here lie down for a little and just learn a few new things..” His hand slid up your thigh “If you’re willing to teach me.”

“Teach you?…Have you never had sex where you from?”

“Something like that.”

“Well i’m down to teach you as long as you finish telling where your from first.” You smirked, a deal for a deal.

“I’m from atlantis. That city in the water? Yeah that’s me. But i kinda got kicked out momentarily.”

“So are you like the king or something?”

“Well kinda-“

“Because that’s really hot.”

Oh.

He had to continue the lie now.

“Yes i’m a king. A king who’s never been with a human, one with your beauty at that.”

He kissed you and slid a hand up your shirt and squeezed your breast, your already hard nipples being squeezed made you practically squeal.

“Oh? Humans can do that?” He grinned and grabbed your other breast making you practically moan so loud even the orca whales could hear you from here.

He grabbed your legs and flipped you over his lap so now you were straddling his lap..then he stopped.

“What’s that for?”

“Well underwater we usually do it differently so-“

“Oh..Well humans do it a little differently, want me to guide you?”

“Please yes.”

You kissed him and pushed him back into the bed, un buttoning his belt as you unzipped his jeans. Precum leaking through the base of his undergarments.

You took out his cock and palmed it, already hard he let out soft whimpering from the feeling. “Keep going.”

“Hm?”

“Please keep going..”

“You going to good just let go..release in my hand come on- no pun intended.”

Almost on command he came in your hand as you slowly let yourself onto him. And god his size truly changed from palming it to now feeling it inside you.

“Now you just have to move you hips and i’ll do the rest-“

He grinded “Alright then…” He moved his hips slowly and started to make you bounce on him, you let out soft moans as you put your hands on his shoulders.

“I get it now.”

He flipped you over onto your back as your ankles were now on his shoulders as you thrusted into you hard.

“You know underwater- The current gives so much movement it’s hard to honestly get a good rhythm but here! God! It’s great! And humans truly are much more flexible-“ He grabbed your leg and pushed it over your head

“Just amazing.” He knew exactly what he was doing. Pushing his luck.

He knew humans weren’t as durable as atlanteans. But god it was fun. Watching his seamen fall out of your cunt.

He chuckled as you reached another orgasm. Calling out his name as you had never felt someone practically break through you before yet here he was. His first time ever feeling the warmth humans had to offer and he was making you throw your head back as another orgasm made way.

“Fuck-k orm please don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, you know what i was planning on? Settling down with you..Maybe making a baby? You want me to fill you up and make a half breed baby? I can imagine it. You just full of my royal seed.”

His own words made him cum (again) as he thrusted into you. His cum leaking out as a trail as he pulled out.

“Thank you,for showing me the way of humans…It’s truly amazing.”

Hopefully plan B still worked when it came too atlantean seed.

[misguidedasgardian]

Wildcats (Part XVII)

XVII. Home

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your “tried”, and in doing so, you had come oblivious to the danger from within 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, mentions of domestic violence, a fist fight, imprisonment, talks about slitting throats, kissing, longing, angst, fluff, might miss some important warnings, but you know what this is about

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: ALRIGHTTTT!!! these dorks are finally… “a punta de caramelo” JAJAJA ready to party, I think, enough build up… Alright…the timing in this chapter might be a little flimsy, but what’s important are those dorks so… let’s do this! 

You waved Daryl and Aaron goodbye as they went through the gates and out of Alexandria, you wanted to be optimistic, but still, you still felt a bit sad that Daryl had left you here, you didn’t even trip once! Has it been so bad for him? you had such a good time. It had been a lovely  day. But still, he had been right about the run the day before, so, if he said it, he must have a reason. 

The dead had been buried, and even though your family had taken a big hit, you needed to keep going, this is what the new world looked like, you mourn your dead by keeping living, and that is how you needed to proceed.

Real or not you had a mission now that Rick had put on you, search for an alternative, a plan B, some houses to go to if Alexandria goes poorly. 

Your meetings with Reg about “development” had been canceled indefinitely, of course, he was mourning his son, so now that Daryl was gone you had to keep your hands busy.

You had become comfortable in the days you had been here, and today, you were determined, you went to see a person that was going to help you get the skills that you needed to become stronger to approach the new mission. 

“Espinoza”, you called with a wide smile on your face, she was already smiling when she turned, you found her by the trucks that needed fixing. 

“... I just realized I don’t know your last name”, she said with a frown

“Well, it’s very native, ANYWAYS”, you said with a wide smile, “I wanted to ask you something…” 

“Tell me”, she said

“Well… I can’t think of anyone better to help me improve my upper body strength”, you said softly, “I’m fairly good with guns, and my ax, but the other day back in Atlanta I could barely keep out a walker who fell on top of me, and neither the second one when he fell in top of the other…”

“Say less”, she said with a big smile, “I need to practice some new skills as well”

“You’ll help me? I want to be able to fight too, people, you know? fists”

“It’ll be fun”, she said with a soft smile.

You bit the dust like twenty times in the morning, until Carol managed to scrap you off the floor and into the house for a quick lunch, and then you spend the whole afternoon helping Rosita fix cars. Or at least those who didn’t have computers, those where your favorites to try and  fix. 

“So this, can be easily fix with a simple wielding, don’t let the shape fool you”, she said as you held up the broken hood of the car for her

“I always though radiators where a pain in the ass”, you said

“They are, they are easy to break, but easy to fix”, she said with a soft smile

“Great, you know what I was thinking? to install a good thick bumper in front of that truck… so we can run over walkers more easily”

“You know? i was thinking the same thing, but I’m worried about the weight, we would need to make sure to weld it good to the…”, the sounds of what must have been a window breaking interrupted you, followed by the sounds of screams and yelling. You both started running towards the commotion just in time to see Rick punching Jesse’s husband into the road.

“STOP IT PLEASE!”, screamed Jesse, trying to separate them as her husband was the one choking Rick into the grounds, but he pushed her away, making her fall. You ran towards her and helped her up and away from the fighting men.

“Dad! stop!”, Rick had the upper hand now and now it was Carl being pushed. Who was grabbed by Rosita.

“RICK!”, you called angrily, but he didn’t hear you, but he did hear Deanna as she came angrily.

“STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”, you hugged onto Jesse softly, as she grabbed onto you. She was crying, and in distress, you didn’t understand what’s going on, but you could take a pretty good guess.

“Hey, hey, everything will be fine”, you said softly, she barely nodded, “we are here for you, you’re gonna be fine”, you echoed

“You touch them again and I will kill you”, Rick threatened Pete, that’s his name. Jesse whimpered behind you 

“Damn it, Rick! I said stop!”, demanded Deanna, only then Rick stopped pounding into that sorry bastard

“Or what? You gonna kick me out?”, he asked, there they were, those crazy eyes again. It was odd, Rick was wearing the constable uniform, his beard was trimmed and his hair combed back, but, his eyes, it was the same as that night, with the claimers. You didn’t even notice he had pulled out a gun until everybody gasped and stood back, at least, the Alexandrians did. You were so used to it by now it scared you. 

“Put that gun down, Rick”, said Deanna, her hands in the air trying to calm him down.

A million thoughts ran through your mind, where did he get the gun? why?

“You still don't get it. None of you do!”, he said, waving the gun aimlessly, “We know what needs to be done and we do it. We're the ones who live. You, you just sit and plan and hesitate. You pretend like you know when you don't. You wish things weren't what they are. Well, you want to live? You want this place to stay standing? Your way of doing things is done. Things don't get better because you… you want them to. Starting right now, we have to live in the real world. We have to control who lives here”, his speech told you this was coming for a while, it made you tremble in your spot, you looked over at Rosita as she was as impressed as you, telling you she didn't know anything either.

“That's never been more clear to me than it is right now”, sentenced Deanna, uf, you better rush that search for a home, soon.

“Me? Me? You…”, he chuckled in a way that it was so dark it made you tremble, “You mean me? Your way is gonna destroy this place”, he said, his face was bloodied, so were his knuckles, “It's gonna get people killed! It's already gotten people killed! And I'm not gonna stand by…”, you didn’t even see her coming, Michonne had clocked him so hard in the back of the head that Rick collapsed into the ground.

An awkward silence befell all of those who were watching, Abraham came out of nowhere as you could only look at Rick, as your dreams collapsed around you.

“Please, place him in the basement of the apartments”, said Deanna gently, “until he can cool down, take the gun…”, she started giving directions while you could only follow Abraham and Michonne who had grabbed Rick and were taking him to the place directed by Deanna, also, Rosita and Carl followed you.

As you walked, you catched a glimpse of all those scared faces staring at you, at your group, like you were the worst criminals they had seen.

It was done, here it was, the crash, the collapse. 

They were never gonna let you all stay, or worse, they were going to make you spell Rick 

And if he was expelled, you were going to go with him.

Abraham left him in a small room, and Rosita brought things to patch him up, as she did while he was still unconscious.

Glenn came running

“Maggie will calm Deanna down”, he said softly, you looked at him with a frown.

“Does anybody know what is going on?”, you asked angrily, looking around the room, but nobody said anything

“This took me by surprise as well”, said Michonne 

“What happened with that guy?”, Carol appeared in that second, looking angrily at everybody. “If all of us are here, it's going to look like we are cahooting”, you said

“Nobody saw me coming”, she said, “Pete had been abusing Jesse, and the children, I told Rick yesterday”, there was an awful silence.

“And where did he get the gun?”, you asked her, she shook her head

“I don’t know”

“...Nobody was doing anything?”, asked Glenn, “About Jesse and Pete?”

“No, he is a doctor”, Carol said, with a dark tone in her voice. You sighed, rubbing your face. Eventually, you all went away, leaving only Carl and Michonne with Rick.

Rick had taken his role seriously, he had beat up a guy who was beating his wife, and probably the children, the bastard deserved it, the tricky part was now…

The fucking gun.

You passed by the house where the armory was, and now, two Alexandrians stood by the door, one of them was Tobin, one of their toughest guys.

Well… shit. 

You needed to think, so, you went to keep an eye on Tara, the calming environment of the infirmary was just what you needed right now. The night already falling over Alexandria. 

. . .

He was so thankful he didn’t bring you along this time. 

First, Aaron and him found a woman all torn out, tied to a tree, and an unknown man dismembered on the ground next to it. It was a horrific sight and even though you had probably seen worse, this was best.

They had to spend the night out there, in the car. They preferred it so, because they had advanced a lot, and at night, they had seen the man with the red poncho, and had better chances of finding him if he lit a fire again. 

But the next day, they keep following the trail, and they had found something that look promising

But now? He was going to die, most likely.

He took a long drag of the cigarette he found, as he watched those ugly, decomposing faces, scratching the glass, trying to get to them. 

It had been an obvious setup, (now that he thought about it), and now he was trapped in a car with Aaron, surrounded by walkers, and to get matters worse, an unknown group of deranged maniacs were coming his way, most likely, those who had been carving people, and their foreheads with a W

He was going to be the one to try to fight it off, as he looked at Aaron from the corner of his eye, Aaron was a good person, he had taken them to Alexandria, he had a husband, a home, he was a decent man, he deserved to be the one to live, Daryl was here to protect him.

But as he took another drag, he thought about his family.

Rick, Carol, Carl, baby Judith…

He thought of you.

Of your face, of your smile, of your arms around him yesterday when he took you for a ride, about the excitement he felt when he heard your voice whispering in his ear, about yours cent wrapped around him, he thought about how badly he wanted to be around you, with you… he thought about how much he wanted to kiss you, to hold you, and now… with how things were looking…

He was never going to get to.

He was proven to be right, in not taking you here, if you would have been here, things maybe could be worse, you could have been attacked, bitten or worse.

It was better this way.

Now he was never gonna know what it would be like, to be with you, to hold you in his arms, to kiss you. He liked you, and he just had come to realize it. 

He looked down

“I’ll go, I’ll distract them while you make a run f’it”, he mumbled, “just let me finish my smoke first”

Maybe he could make it. He promised you he was going to come back to you, he promised, perhaps with one arm less, but he was gonna make it, he had to. He had to tell you. 

Would you still want him with only one arm? hell, did you want him at all?

He had to find out. 

He felt silly, thinking those things in a time like this, what did you do to him? 

“No”, said Aaron, looking at him decisively, “this was nobody’s fault, we’ll do it together”, he nodded, Aaron wanted to get home as bad as he did, and they were gonna do it together.

And then, one of the walker’s heads was crushed by what looked like a wooden stick. 

. . .

The very next morning, you woke up a bit startled, with everything that happened with Rick, you had forgotten about the archer. You ran downstairs, only to find Maggie making breakfast

“Hey, good morning”, she smiled at you softly

“Good morning”, you whispered, “Is Daryl back?”, she looked at you with a glint in her eye

“He didn’t”, she said, “but he and Aaron reported they were going to stay out there one night, so don’t you worry”, she said softly.

“Alright”, you said, but the fact that they gave notice, didn’t soothe your nerves.

“He is going to be fine”, she said softly, “but we need to focus on keeping the place they are going to return to”, she said, and you nodded

“I’ll go see Rick”, you whispered

“I will go and talk to Deanna”, she said, and exited the house.

You walked quickly, you needed to figure this out and the only one who could answer all your questions was Rick. 

entered the room where Rick was, with Glenn, Carol, and Abraham, you needed answers, you needed to know what was going on. SOme of them acknowledge you, not all of them, but Abraham closed the door behind you

“Where’d you get the gun?”, asked Michonne

“You took it, right? From the armory? That was stupid. Why did you do it?”, grilled Carol, Rick’s face said it all, so you looked at the gray haired woman with suspicion, she was in on it, you realized as you looked back at Rick wide-eyed. 

“Just in case”, said Rick, not taking his eyes off of Carol, but then he looked at you, and he seemed surprised to see your angry face. 

“Deanna's planning to have a meeting tonight. For anyone who wants to…”, started Glenn

“To kick Rick out?”, asked Abraham, you didn’t say a thing you just looked around.

“To try”, said Carol

“We don't know that”, you said, finally 

“Maggie's with Deanna right now. She's gonna find out what it is”, assured Glenn

“At the meeting, you say you were worried about someone being abused and no one was doing anything about it. You say you took a gun just to be sure that Jessie was safe from a man who wound up attacking you. You say you'll do whatever you want them to. Just tell them a story that they want to hear. It's what I've been doing since I got here”, said Carol, and you chuckled, you knew she was lying front the second she stepped through those gates. 

“Why?”, asked Glenn

“Because these people are children and children like stories”, she said

“What happens after all the nice words and they still try to kick him out? They're guarding the armory now”, muttered Glenn, as you thought he was the one who was taking the same side as you, the concerned side 

“We still have knives. That's all we'll need against them”, said Carol

“Well, tonight at the meeting, if it looks like it's going bad, I whistle. Carol grabs Deanna, I take Spencer, you grab Reg, Glenn and Abraham cover us, watch the crowd”, muttered Rick, and then his eyes landed on you.

“This is “trying” for you Rick?”, you asked him angrily

“We can talk to them”, said Michonne, “there is no need…”

“Yeah, we will. If we can't get through, we take the three of them and say we'll slit their throats”, said Rick as it would have been easy, “we did try, (y/n)” he said gently, “we tried, but this people don’t understand how things are now”

“Like at Terminus?”, asked Glenn, “where’re gonna slit their throats like they’re cattle?”

“No, we just tell 'em. They give us the armory and it's over”, said RIck, like he had everything figured out

“Did you want this?”, you asked him, “just making us try our best just in case so you didn’t feel bad about this?”, Abraham placed his hand on your shoulder and then you noticed how riled up you had become, taking a step forward, your voice rising. Anger taking a hold on you.

“No”, said Rick, looking straight at you, “I hit my limit. I-- I screwed up. And here we are”, he said, “I want you to stay here, that mission will have to wait, now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna sleep some more”, he said, dismissing the lot of you. 

How could you become so short sighted? 

As you were trying your ebay and play house, your family was collapsing around you, Rick had crazy eyes, Carol was scheming right along with him, you had lost Noah, and Tara was in the hospital… Sasha was turning into a sniper, she spent all the time in the watchtower, and people had become actually scared of the lot of you, because of your aggressiveness. This was bananas, as Maggie, Abraham and Tyresse had actually reached a position of power in the matters of days.

But that part relieved you, actually, you wanted your people in power, because they knew what they were doing, not because they were gonna threaten to cut people’s throats out. 

This was a whole mess

Were they going to expel Rick? were you going to go with him?.

You found a map of the state of Virginia, you opened it in the dining room table, and you began planning.

You could take a good guess where you were, and then there was Washington… you wanted to go to Washington, if they do expel you from here, that was your safer bet, to find a building and spend a couple of days there until you found something more permanent. 

The map was pretty detailed, and you noticed groups of buildings near you. 

“Is that a factory?”, you whispered, looking at the squared looking buildings in the map, that had been taken by a satellite a couple of years back. you certainly didn’t want to go there. DC was still the safest bet, especially if they evacuated most of the people.

But Rick won’t go

Rick wanted to stay here no matter what, he wanted to take the place. 

And even if you weren’t comfortable with that, you were not going to fight it, to fight him, or Michonne or Glenn, or Abraham 

Maggie and Glenn were building Rick’s defense, so you had to stay put, and try to stay calm.

It will not come to this, it will not come to that, to slitting people’s throats.

But if it did… Did that make you the bad guys? certainly not better than those psychos from Terminus.  

You thought again about Daryl, about what he might think about all of this, was he in on it? It was weird that Rick was planning something and not including him. Was he in on it? You really hoped he wasn’t. 

You watched the sunset through the windows, you didn’t even know where the whole day went, you had spent hours and hours over that freaking map, walking around the house, thinking about scenarios and possibilities, and freaking out. 

Was Daryl going to spend the entire night out again? Was that alright? On top of everything else, you felt so nervous, he was gone… What was going to happen when he came back? Was he going to go onto the plan of threatening them? You had seen what he could do, he was quick with his crossbow and he was fiercely loyal to Rick.

Whatever it was, you needed to stand by your family, even though you didn’t agree to the plan, you had to see it through and see to it that nobody was going to get hurt. 

You needed to go to the thing, what were they calling it? you didn’t remember. But you didn’t move a muscle, not a single one, you were afraid of what is going to become. They were not going to kick him out, the group was not going to allow it, instead they were going to take the place.

The decision had been made.

You were not consulted on it, and yet, you were expected to support it.

But you needed to go, and prevent the hostile takeover, you could, you only needed to be truthful. You were on your way out, when you heard the rumble of a motorcycle outside. You smiled at the thought of the archer. So you got out of the house in a hurry. 

“Hey you’re home!”, you said happily when you saw him cross the porch to the house. You were so relieved, not only because you were worried for him, but because of everything that happened with Rick… But he didn’t even mind anything else. He came straight for you, he seemed driven, pushed by invisible motivations.

He encased your face with one of his hands, everything was so fast you barely had time to react, and he leaned in, and trapped your lips with his in a chaste kiss

You smiled into the kiss, grabbing his shirt.

This was happening, this was really happening and you wanted to make it last as much as you could, his hand traveled to the back of your head, to hold you steady.

All your thoughts and worries went away as easily as that. Everything was going to be alright, and he felt heavenly. He felt the same, kissing your lips was the best thing he had felt in a long while. He separated from you, even though he didn’t want to, you didn’t want to. But still, he needed to see your reaction. 

“M’sorry”, he whispered against your lips, “I wanted to do that:”

“Took you long enough Dixon”, you said against his, and this time, you grabbed onto his shirt and you pulled him towards you, you kissed him again. This time, it was more intense, you actually heard him whimper against your lips, as you both took a deep breath into each other. Grabbing each other more tightly. You didn’t know how you were ever gonna stop it. 

But of course a gunshot rang through the air, making you split up like the other was on fire. 

taglist @crazyunsexycool @capricxnt

[captainpulisic]

your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave - m. mount

feedback is appreciated, thank you.

word count: 2.1 k gif credits to owner

if anyone asked either of you about it, neither you nor mason would be able to explain how the fight had started. you’re not entirely sure what had made you two so upset with each other, you just knew this bitchy attitude had been happening all morning.

there you were, in the kitchen, pondering over how this fight had started. could it have been about the girl who had been too touchy with him at last night's party? maybe it was about the extra hours you had spent at work this past week, arriving home long after mason had gone to sleep? fuck, if we’re being honest, it was probably about who had finished the last pint of ice cream, maybe? 

as you look at the clock, you decide to put a pin on this reflection, seeing it’s nearly time to leave for tonight's game (just because you both want to murder each other right now doesn’t mean you won’t go, you were never one to miss a game, if you could help it.). you head up the stairs to your bedroom, the same stairs mason had stormed up a few minutes ago. what a child, you nearly laugh at the image of masons pout when you called him immature. instead of retorting with, also, calling you a name, he simply huffed and stomped up the stairs. seconds later, the sound of a door being shut rang throughout the whole house. 

as you enter your shared bedroom, you’re greeted with masons back. his tense movements and the manner in which he is throwing clothes into his duffel bag, let you know he’s still feeling raw about the fight. 

you still feel pretty raw, too. thus, you spare him no glance as you shove past him. yes, you still put on your number nineteen jersey (not wearing it would be a little too much, even you know where to draw the line. mason would see it as a stab to his heart). yet, as you remember how he rolled his eyes when you called him unreasonable, you feel irked again. you need some sort of retaliation. you make a show of putting a plain, grey hoodie over the jersey, refusing to meet his stare. that oughta show him, you think to yourself. he looks as if he wants to say something, yet resorts to another eye roll and an even louder scoff. 

both of your attitudes were so horrendous, they continued as you settled into the car. the whole ride to the bridge, not one word was uttered to each other. no, it was all huffy sighs and the low hum of the music playing. hell, even the way he was holding your hand was stiff, no gentle squeezes or lip brushes. (what? just because he’s furious at you doesn’t mean he’s not going to hold your hand. he's upset, not crazy.)

when you arrive at the bridge, you both linger by the entrance, unsure of what to do or how to depart. usually, on happy days with no fights, you both stay there as long as possible, as you pepper his face with kisses. one on his forehead, one on each cheek, one on the little red spot on the bridge of his nose. you repeat this ritual until you’re both giggling messes. lastly, it ends with one final, proper kiss on his lips before he has to leave for some pre game obligations. mason refers to this as his ‘good luck kisses’. he swears on every star and planet that these ‘good luck kisses’ are the reason they win. before, you’d brushed it off as mason just making silly excuses to get kisses. you’d always been one to indulge him because who were you to deny him kisses? but to mason, he wholeheartedly believed that your little ritual meant something, it was the one superstition he followed before every game.

“you can never not kiss me, or else you’ll have to tell everyone you’re the reason we lost”, he had explained to you. even though you had laughed, it quickly died off when you saw his dead serious expression. “y/n, there’s nothing funny about this. the whole clubs future depends on you and me getting it on.”

therefore, your little tradition was born. if there was a game, mason could be found being kissed to death by you. if ben or conor or anyone else happened to pass by during this, their teasing would be answered with masons, “do you want us to win or not?”

when chelsea would end up winning a match, he’d get so smug. he’d claim that your kisses really were lucky, crediting you for their win. no, you weren’t just his good luck charm, you were the entire teams. if they happened to lose, even with your good luck kiss, he simply blamed it on someone else's performance or the refs shit calls. 

“well that was unfortunate, but it wasn’t my fault,” he would whisper in your ear, as you greeted him after a hard loss. you’d just shake your head, assuring him he was spectacular on the field. a smile would form on his lips as he whispered into your ear, “next time, we have to have a proper makeout, just to make sure we win, yeah?”

yet, right now, the air between you two is frigid. there are no giggles and no playful touches as you cover him in kisses. no, you both stand there and look everywhere but at each other. mason doesn’t leave right away, unsure if he should. you had never been one to deny him his good luck kiss, surely today wouldn’t be the start. arguments come and go but this was your tradition. he knew that you knew what it meant to him. yet, as you showed no indication of leaning in to give him his kisses, he figured he’d take on the role today.

look. you didn’t mean to turn your head, causing his kiss to land on your cheek. you swear it! you had seen him lean down and (secretly) felt relieved that today would have some normalcy, with your good luck kisses. but all too soon, you remembered how mason had refused to listen to you in the heat of the argument. instead of trying to talk things out and think of a solution, he had told you to “grow up” and walked away. like a switch, your anger and bitterness had come back with a vengeance. and like a reflex, your head turned when his lips came crashing down. 

you’ll admit, it was a petty move. you don’t really regret it though, anger still bubbling from his childish behaviour. if he wanted to be childish, so could you. 

you don’t regret it, that is until you see the look on masons face. your rejection of his kiss feels like the ultimate betrayal to him. the hurt in his eyes and his dejected expression have you second guessing everything you’ve ever done. 

“oh,” masons voice is small, but not as small as he feels at the moment. his face has fallen and his heart feels stripped bare. his sad pout is more present than ever. when he speaks, it's a mere whisper, “okay then.”

you’re not doing any better, all the hard feelings you had moments ago were looking very dumb. the look on his face had you ready to fold and forgive him. you had to hold yourself back from reaching for his hand and pulling him into your arms, kissing him until you were pulled apart. you just… couldn't. 

maybe you were too stubborn, but so was he. plus, you still felt you were owed an apology. he was the one in the wrong, the culprit in this stupid argument. you had to remain strong, even if all you wanted was to kiss the sorrows from his face. 

with one final (heartbreaking) glance towards you, mason turns to head into the locker room. and with that, you half heartedly head to the designated seating area for family and friends. 

it’s just a silly tradition mason and I have. we only do it because it gives us a reason to unashamedly make out. it’s not like our kissing sessions affect if chelsea actually wins or not, you tell yourself as you find your seat. 

soon enough, you’re eating your words. you don’t know if you should cover your eyes or turn your head away from the crime scene unfolding in front of you. the way chelsea is being annihilated by the opposing team, you’re dumbstruck. mason is a whole different story, playing like (in the kindest way possible) shit. it’s a sea of cards and missed shots. the ball gets stolen from him more times than you could count and his frustration is evident. he’s throwing fits and cussing out no one in particular as he walks the field. 

by the time the final whistle is blown, you’re grateful the bloodbath is done with. you’re not sure how you feel about what just happened. the one time I didn’t kiss mason, they really did lose, you mull over this. it can’t really be connected, right?

-

nonetheless, as you make your way towards the locker room, you’ve had time to think things over. you’re much more calm than when you left mason two hours ago, and all you want to do is kiss him and end this stupid argument. you’ll even be the one to swallow your pride and apologise if you have to, you just need things to go back to normal. heck, you even took off the hoodie and are proudly showing off the nineteen on your back. maybe that’ll ease the blow a bit. you can’t stop thinking of the hurt look he gave you when you rejected his kiss, and you can already imagine the horrid mood he’ll be in after the end results of the match. he’s already had such a difficult time with all his contract drama, another team loss is the last thing he needed.

waiting outside the locker room, you offer sympathetic smiles as all the boys start to walk out. mason is one of the last ones to exit, looking down at the ground as he walks. when he looks up and sees you, your heart wants to shatter into a million pieces. his dejected expression and ever present pout actually hurt you. 

“you didn’t kiss me,” he whispers matter-of-factly, as he comes to a halt in front of you. he’s still refusing to meet your gaze. he mumbles towards his shoes, “you didn’t kiss me and they kicked our arses out there.”

“what?” you’re baffled, having thought his sour mood would be due solely to the team's loss, or even to his mid performance. you hadn’t thought the lack of kisses between you had gotten to him so badly.

he finally looks at you, and it's like a shot to the heart. his eyes are filled with sadness and frustration and so much hurt. he states it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “you didn’t give me my good luck kiss. you turned away, so I played like shit.”

oh my, your heart might burst. my sweet, precious boy, I don’t deserve you. this situation is so pathetically heartbreaking and you hate to see him so sad over something you did. it’s all too much, the way he genuinely believes your kisses could control the outcome of the game and his performance. 

“my baby,” you’re wrapping your arms around him in an instant. automatically, he reciprocates the action and nuzzles his face into you. you begin to rub his back, trying to ease his breathing and relax him a bit. after a few moments in this embrace, you nudge him from his hiding spot in the crook of your neck and hold his face with both hands. you leave a kiss on the tip of his nose, “i’m so, so sorry. it’ll never happen again.”

he simply nods and offers you a slight smile. in return, you place a soft kiss on his jaw and on at the lobe of his ear. you leave another kiss on his cheek and one on his forehead. soon enough, you’re both lost in a haze of kisses. when you hear him let out a soft laugh, your heart strings ease up. 

yes, this is how it should be. no arguments and rejected kisses. there should just be laughter and intertwined hands and soft kisses and happiness. 

trying to lighten his mood even more, you look around before you lean in towards his ear. you fake whisper, “please don’t tell the other boys I didn’t kiss you today. I don’t want them to start forcing us to kiss in front of them before every game, like some sort of kissing cult sacrifice show.”

he gasps and puts on a (not so) fake offended face, “why not?”

[e-m-p-error]

Go ahead and send in anons for the M!A asks that I currently have running until 3/9!

Valentino Lactates Chocolate Milk + Oviposition

Mouse Boy Moxxie

Cow Boy Adam

Dragon Niffty

[stargazedwinchester]

Protect | Sam

A small one to get me back into writing, will be doing one for Dean also! <3

Summary: You attempt to comfort Sam from his most recent break up.

Prompt: "If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?" @promptsbytaurie

If anyone is interested, I have a taglist here! So if you want to be notified any time I post, pls send in a form so I can update it! Been away for a little bit so I’m gonna update it soon if anyone else has applied their interest :)

(Guys pls let me do a part 2 to this pls pls I beg)

Taglist: @girlsforpjm @rowenalovee @amythedoctor

Word count: 1,069

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

The ambience in the bunker is quieter than usual. Usually there’s some weird genre of music playing loud enough so you can hear from 4 rooms away or someone furiously tapping away on a keyboard.

Walking down toward the lobby, it’s dead quiet. Assuming no one’s home, you take a gander at the books on the bookshelves, multiple books about monster lore and latin history, demonic possession and even some without a name. They’re worn down from the use they got from when the Men of Letters were around. Without letting either of the Winchesters know about it, you managed to sneak your own normal book collection in there. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, right? Sam especially would go nuts.

Picking out a light blue book with an intricate flower design running around it, the bolder, darker letters stand out in contrast. You scan the pages before taking a seat in the armchair in the corner of the library. The floor lamp next to you is dim, setting the mood perfectly for a quick comforting read.

A cough breaks you out of your gaze, unknowing that anyone was even inside. You peer round the corner and notice a huge man with long, unruly hair. His head sits in the palm of his hand, his long legs spread out underneath the table.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper to yourself and make yourself known. “Sam?”

He grumbles, barely turning his body around to acknowledge you. “Yeah?” He clears his throat, his voice croaky and weak. You pad your way over to him and stand above him, examining the empty whiskey bottle and a glass that has remnants. His personal phone is left unlocked, a few texts sent to someone but haven’t gone through. You skim read.

7:04AM

Can we please talk?

8:15AM

Please message me, IDK what I did wrong

17:16PM

Sam, leave me alone. I’m done talking with

you. I will block your number

18:08PM

Sorry

MSG NOT SENT. TRY AGAIN

“How are you feeling?” You question, speaking carefully as he has obviously had a few drinks. You pull out a chair and sit beside him, his head remaining in his hands. You stare at him intently, hoping for a good answer. He takes a deep breath and sighs shakily. He rubs his face and he glances at you quickly. His eyes dark, and the tip of his nose crimson. He wipes his nose and takes another swig, too quick for you to even stop him. “What do you think?” He huffs, trying to show a smile but failing. You look down at the floor, unsure of what to say. He reaches over and locks his phone, then rubs his eyes with his fingers. “I don’t know what to do,” He starts, his voice wobbling. You reach for the nape of his neck and gently caress his hair, “What did I do wrong?” He starts, tears forming in his eyes as he looks at you once more, then breaking contact. “It’s okay, Sammy. Let it out.” You say, stroking his hair as he sits back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I look so weak,” He laughs, trying to collect himself. You sigh quietly. “You’re not. If it hurts you, it hurts you. It’s normal to be sad.” You say, trying to make him feel at least a little bit better. He reaches for his glass again and you place your palm over the top of it. “I think you’ve had enough of this as well,” You slide the glass across the table away from Sam. “Listen. Things like this come and go, you’re more than capable to find someone way better than her. I understand it hurts right now but in a couple of weeks time you’ll feel so much better for relying on yourself and the people that love you than the people that don’t. You’re going to be fine, Sam. Trust me.” You give the speech like your life depends on it, but seeing your close friend so heartbroken made you feel like it’s your duty to ensure he hears exactly what he needs to hear. He looks at you with shining eyes, the red in them makes the hazel pop more than usual. His nose still red and cheeks flushed, his usually neat hair is tussled. “I just loved her so much,” He sighs, straightening himself out. “But she wasn’t for me. We were so different.” He explains, his eyes scanning your face. “How so?” You ask, trying not to intrude.

“Well, I’d want to go places with her to eat, drink, whatever and she’d hate it. She’d never want to spend time with me or show me off. I guess she just wanted to use me, I think that’s the thing that hurts the most,” He admits, shedding new light on his now past relationship with this woman… something that felt like rage and sadness for him built up inside of your chest, and he carries on. “When things wouldn’t go her way, she’d get angry with me. So angry,” He pauses, “She’d threaten things but never actually go through with it, thankfully. I could never say anything because I was scared of her reaction or if she’d leave me for standing up for myself.” He finishes, a tear falling down his cheek and nothing stops you from wiping it away. Keeping your hand gently on his face, you stare into his eyes as he does yours.

“If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?” You say, keeping your tone calm and collected, but Sam smirks at the fire that glows within yourself, a passion for protecting the ones you love, or maybe it’s more than that.

“Okay. I will.” He smiles for the first time since this whole interaction started. You slowly start to stand up, shuffling yourself out of the chair. You remove your hand from Sams’ face, but then he unexpectedly takes your hand as you try to turn away, pulling you back. You look at him with concern, and his helpless gaze stares up at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He says, pursing his lips. “Honestly, it’s what I needed. So, thank you.”

“I’d do anything for you, Winchester.” You say, quickly grooming his hair so its somewhat neater. Glancing into his eyes one last time, he shows you a fragile smile.

A delicate smile is still a smile.

[darksigns-exe]

38. i want to see you - nick folio x reader

warnings: none

word count: 699

note: prompt list fic for my dear @deathblacksmoke <3 if you want a prompt list fic of your own, drop me a message.

prompt list by @nightprompts

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

You’ll never get used to going to bed on your own. You never sleep as well as you would when he’s at home. His side of the bed is so awfully cold, and you wonder what he’s up to right now. 

The band's only gone for a couple of days, he’ll be back by Sunday evening, but it’s still entirely too long for your taste. Nick had told you ahead of time that he wanted to visit a few friends while they’re out in Texas, and you really can’t blame him. They have so little time to be in one place. Still, you can’t help but wish that he was here instead. 

The house is entirely too quiet without him. 

You pull the duvet tighter around your body. It’s starting to get cold in and you miss his warmth. 

As if he’s reading your thoughts, your phone pings with a notification.

Can’t sleep. Are you still up?

He was so nervous before they left. Practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. Hearing that they’d open for Linkin Park out of all people had made you nervous, and you can’t imagine what it did to your poor boy’s brain.

You reply immediately. 

Can’t sleep either. Miss you :(

A moment later your phone buzzes in your hand and the goofy pictures your assigned to his contact lights up on your screen. 

“Hi baby.” you say quietly, laying your phone down next to you on your pillow. 

Nick lets out a content sigh, “Hi.” 

Even through the phone you can hear the nervous edge in his voice. You hate that you can’t be there with him. Sometimes you think that you should just quit your job so that you can come with them whenever you want. Surely, you’ll be able to find something that will allow you to work remotely. 

“How’s everything going? Are you ready for tomorrow?” 

“Rehearsal went really well. The place is massive. I don’t know if we’ve ever played a venue that big.” 

He drifts off into a rambling account of the last two days. The issues they had with the hotel, the horrible breakfast buffet and how Ruffilo had gotten lost in the bowels of the venue – twice. 

You love getting to hear what they get up to. 

Hearing his giggle sound from the small speaker makes your heart feel a little bit lighter. 

There’s a little lull in your conversation, and you think that sleep is starting to catch up with him. 

“I want to see you.” he says then, “Can I see you?” 

It’s entirely innocent, and you swear that you can practically hear the pout on his face. 

You can’t say no to him. Not when he sounds so sweet. 

You can just make out the outline of his face in the dimly lit room. 

His face lights up when yours comes into focus. 

Nick’s lying on his side, mirroring your position. And it takes you a moment to realise that he’s on his usual side of the bed, with the phone facing him from your side. It stings just a little bit. 

“I’m so excited to hear how things go tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll play your best show yet.”

You always tell him the same thing, because you know it’s true. They’re all just getting better and better with every show they play, and you’ve loved watching them grow from the tiny local venues to the big places they play now. 

Nick smiles when you tell him about your latest trip to the hardware store in pursuit of the right paint for your living room. 

The conversation continues to drift on, and you’re not sure who of you fell asleep first. Or when you feel asleep for that matter. All you know is that your phone is dead in the morning. 

When it finally has enough battery to turn on again, you find another text from Nick on your phone. 

Good morning thank you for staying up with me. I’ll call you later. Love you.

You’re more sure than ever before that you need to find a job that will allow you to travel without having to bend backwards to get time off.

tag list: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @thewrstinme

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Up until the end Isaac Foster's pretty sure he despises his new companion - you're too much like Ray and yet not. A/N: I have no idea what I'm doing and the title (translation: towards better things) probably doesn't make sense either :) WARNINGS: Can be read as either platonic or romantic, murder, death at the end

Zack thinks he dislikes you.

He KNOWS he dislikes you from the moment he discovered the withering corpses still lying in their beds and you were raiding the house, because not only did you get there before him (not like he actually planned on breaking in to that particular house beforehand, but he had to lie low for a while and no one gets in his way) but you also had that stupidly boring look on your face as you stuffed your mouth full from purloined snacks, half in, half out from the fridge. Those clothes probably didn’t belong to you either.

Stupidly boring like Ray, but at least Ray had been working on it. She even managed to pull an interesting expression for him when they completed their pact.

It annoyed him, because there was now no joy in slicing your head off. You just looked up when he entered and began complaining in annoyance, chewing methodically, eyes not even bothering to blink. They didn’t move away from him, but it wasn’t like there was any interest or curiosity in them either. They simply were.

“How does a damn runt like you even kill people?” Zack glares down at you, hefting up his scythe. You don’t even flinch at his decibel level, continuing to poke around the fridge. You looked, if not exactly innocent, then incapable of even having any murderous urges needed to slash up all those bodies upstairs. There wasn’t even a speck of blood on you, but he had his suspicions after coming across a flooding bath tub. You didn’t even have a weapon on you.

When you speak your voice is as dead as your face. He wishes you were dead but you were so boring. “Do you want some?”

“HAR?”

He definitely dislikes you. You’re so dull you actually robotically split your meal in half to share with him, but Zack had to admit he was kind of hungry and you had chips.

Your face doesn’t change when you finished eating, standing up to brush the crumbs off yourself. “Were you planning to come here?”

“Not really.” Zack wipes his mouth, scowling at how even though you’re asking a question, indicating you’re curious and you could feel (he was wondering if you were really one of those creepy talking dolls, because you certainly acted and looked like one), but you didn’t even bother phrasing your statement like a question. You really knew how to take the fun out of killing. “Just came here to hide for a while. Kill anyone inside, take over, ya know.”

“Is someone after you?”

Police and everybody in the world. “Probably, but like they could even catch me.”

“Oh. Okay.” You gesture at the back door. “We should probably go then. One of them managed to get to a phone.”

Before you got to them, Zack hears, but you’re already on your way out of the kitchen. “Why the hell should we go? And why “we”? There’s no we. I just met you, I don’t even know you!”

You stop. He guessed you were surprised at his words; you tell him your name and stare expectantly. Zack wants to explode. “Whatever! Why are we leaving when we’ve just got here?”

“I said they got to a phone…? Are you…?” Are you making fun of him? Ain’t no way. Your expression is too much of an inanimate object to be mocking him. Zack’s offended anyway. “The police will be coming soon unless you want to be caught. I know another house to hide out.”

He’s frustrated, but you kind of remind him of Ray. He’s not the best at planning ahead, so if you could…well, he’ll just stick around long enough to use you and when you get a more interesting expression (you have to, or he’ll force on out of you), you’ll be gone.

“Fine.”

Right on cue he can hear sirens in the distance. Whether or not he wants to he has to leave anyhow, but he still curses as he runs out after you, leaving the door hanging and squeaking on its hinges.

Zack still dislikes you. You’re too calm about this.

***

Zack thinks he resents you.

You were smart enough to take a little cash from every house you both paid a visit too (it annoyed him whenever you didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about how he did away with the owners - were you not scared? Alarmed? Horrified? So he did his best to be as brutal as possible in front of you; you were a killer as well, right, but he hasn’t seen you do anything), which came in useful later on, when one day it was raining too hard and you both were stuck in an alleyway trying to protect yourselves with the reeking bins.

You turn around to him, not even affected. “Do you want shelter?”

“No shit.”

“We can go somewhere…but you stand out a mile.”

“Whatcha say?!”

Zack’s still fuming as you both walk into the ramen bar underneath the face mask you bought, glowering under the hood of the new jacket you got him as well, having been forced to abandon his scythe, not appeased in the slightest with your flat “we can get it back later. Nobody looks at the bottom of the bin.” He’s still doing his best to fume even when the food arrives, but the best he can do is side-eye you sourly because god damn, the noodles smell great and he digs in greedily.

“Do you want this?” You slide over the platter of edamame. A crease forms between your eyebrows - Zack notices it immediately. Strange and…something. He’s never seen any sort of reaction from you before.

“Sure.” He’ll eat anything, he’s that hungry. He downs the plate in a few minutes, but curiosity got the better of him. “You don’t like them?”

“Not really.”

At least he knows something for certain about you now. Zack falls silent again, slurping up his ramen while you pick at yours, face going paper blank again.

“Come on, ye should smile, dumbass. Gotta look innocent so the cashier’ll let you off easy.”

“Why? I’ve got money.”

“If it was me behind that counter I woulda thought you were gonna eat me.”

“Really?”

“Jesus, just don’t look so stiff.”

You attempt to pull your lips up in a feeble try at a smile. “Like this?”

Oh god, you’re just like Ray. Zack wants to slam his head into his bowl. You both are ridiculous at this. He would’ve thought Ray really had come back to life if he hadn’t buried her himself.

He thinks, unlike Ray though, he resents you as you both walk out after you pay (Zack’s not sure if you smiling or not smiling would’ve creeped out the cashier more). Because you’re so much like Ray and not like Ray, because he knows nothing about you and when he asks you reply in clipped, roundabout answers that just make him want to tear his hair out. You don’t even care about anything on his side either. Unless you already knew.

He also resents you, he thinks, because you get to walk in public and into restaurants without people batting an eye and now he has to rely on some robot for food and shelter. Ugh.

“Stop smiling! It’s weird, don’t do it anymore! Gah!”

“But I thought you told me to-”

“Have you looked in a mirror?”

A beat of quiet.

“JEEZ, AT LEAST BE INSULTED!” Yeah, he’s not your biggest fan.

***

Zack thinks he hates you.

Simply because even no one has ever managed to annoy him this much before. It’s been months since he first went into that house you were in and so far he has only learnt your name, you don’t like edamame or traveling at night, you’re a pretty good pickpocket, you don’t like the cold and you actually do have a weapon, though not as conspicuous as his scythe: a butterfly knife you hide in your pocket. Nothing else. He can’t get anything out of you, no matter how long you both have spent together. It irritates him so much at how good you are at evading his questions and how until you STILL don’t have a remotely interesting expression, therefore no point in killing you. It also infuriates him a hell lot that somehow he wound up telling YOU about his past, the old man, the “hospital”, Ray. You’re a good listener, yeah, but mostly because you’re silent, dead eyed and po-faced all the time. You do surprise him once though, asking if he could take you to where he buried Ray one day.

Speaking about the knife, the only reason he found out was a reason to add to hating you.

Maybe a dog had seen the both of you lurking around and started barking up a frenzy, alerting its owner. Whatever the reason, when you both were ducking around trying to avoid being seen by the neighbors after another break in you end up face to face with a wary man carrying a baseball bat, which he immediately swung at the sight of Zack.

The man was stunned and scared, so his speed was seriously lacking. Zack could’ve attacked him with his scythe. But you beat him to it.

“The hell?” He gaped at the fallen body and you standing over it, then at the knife in your hand. “You had that up your sleeve all this time?”

“He was going to hit you. I think you’re bandaged enough.”

“If you’re trying to make fun of me do it with more malice!”

Yeah, he hates you, because you made him look weak. Did you not think he could take care of himself? He didn’t need you! He didn’t need help! He didn’t need protection! Isaac Foster, wanted murderer, could take care of himself!

God he hated you so much. You’re so stupidly annoying in all those ways.

Sometimes he contemplates killing you without even waiting for that expression. It would be so easy, Zack thinks, one hit on the head and you’d fall into the grave you’re digging for the man. Surely the shock of being killed by someone you somewhat-trusted would produce some results? But you don’t even smile, laugh, cry, frown, shout, what was he expecting? There was no point.

“Let’s go for ramen. There’s nothing here except money anyway.” You shut the fridge door and drawers, making your way to crawl out of the window, but pause when he doesn’t move. “…is something wrong?”

“I’m bored. We haven’t run into anyone to kill, it’s been days,” Zack complains and lies at the same time.

“There’ll be someone,” you say vaguely, and tumble out. Your face appears behind the glass, waiting.

“Also if we go for ramen you’ll just give me all your edamame. I’m not a rubbish bin for you!”

“But I don’t want them.” If he hadn’t known you were incapable of making faces he would’ve thought you were pulling a puppy dog face.

“FINE! JESUS!”

He hates you, but Zack suddenly realizes he’ll hate it a lot more if you vanish.

***

Zack thinks he finally knows you.

Too bad it's only as the both of you are shuffled out in shackles, finally seeing each other after the jail cell separation, two doomed, damned serial killers on their way to the noose. Your luck had run out at last - the police had caught up and Zack found himself in his custody once more, this time with company. He considered escape plans again, but last time surprise had been on his side…now not so much, not when they were all aware of what he was capable of.

You didn't seem to care.

Wait, that's a wrong way of saying it. You didn't seem to care about getting caught, no, but only reacted, protested, when it came to him. You only cared because he cared apparently.

“Guess this is the end, huh?” Zack's illiterate but he's not stupid. He knows there's not going to be any trial for him - who was going to defend him, a bloodthirsty murderer, never mind that Ray had WANTED to be killed by him? It was all pretense for the papers.

Uncharacteristically you actually say something other than a hummed agreement. “I wish we could eat another bowl of ramen.”

Odd thing to say, the officers think. Zack snorts. “Dead man's last meal.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Are you stupid? We're gonna die.”

“You never know.” You're hauled away and Zack's left wondering if you had an escape plan. Your tone for the first time, however, is…sad? You probably didn't then.

He thinks about Ray and her obsession with finding a god when he's seated in the chair. Zack doubted any god out there would want him and honestly he didn't care about what happened to him in the afterlife. It'd probably suck anyway.

At least you'll be there too, he reflects, and is alarmed to find himself relaxing, relieved. He wasn't fighting it for whatever reason. Acceptance that judgement day had come?

No, just certainty that you'd be there as well, exasperating companion to the last.

You smashed a glass bottle on your father's head and stabbed your mother with it, after all. Nobody really cares about how abusive or cruel dead people were in their life though, not when it comes to people like you and him.

He catches your eye as they slip the sack over Zack's head.

You're finally interesting - your smile is peculiar and stiff from disuse but so, so you. And so, so interesting.

Too bad he's not the one killing you.

***

Zack thinks he's hallucinating.

Ray is waiting for him at the other end. He's missing his scythe. They're on a familiar road.

“I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon.”

“Yeah well, ye found yer god yet?”

“I'm not sure. Maybe we'll find out now. I haven't really gone anywhere. Does Hell look like this or is this just the waiting room?”

“You and yer questions,” Zack grumbles, slinging an arm around her. “At least your face is more interesting now. If you still wanna die again I’ll be free.”

Ray's small smile widens slightly. “Someone's waiting for you, I think. That store wasn't there before.”

She points at the ramen store. His mouth falls open and he excuses himself.

You're in there in the flesh, quietly swallowing your noodles, cup of tea steaming. Predictably your edamame is on a different plate. He could laugh, and Zack does, long and loud cackling.

“Those for me?”

[sammyvhs]

home : 1.09 pt1 — jess’s sister.

You’re not stupid. At least you hope not. You pray you’re not. You knock on their motel door a little less sure of the fact, maybe it’ll increase in confidence when you see them.

It doesn’t. The second your eyes lock with Sam’s half-asleep ones you’re positive your breath hitches just enough that your heart stops beating momentarily. His messy hair, his exhausted expression, the dark bags under his eyes even him still wearing jeans and a shirt.

“Hey, you came.” You nod and lean into the hug he pulls you in for. His cologne is palpable, the same one he used to wear in Stanford and it’s comforting for you to know he hasnt thrown the bottle away.

“I came.” You whisper, letting go and stepping inside when he moves to let you in. Dean’s on a bed, looks like he’s sleeping peacefully. You wish you could too but everytime you close your eyes your sister is on the ceiling. Sometimes she’s calling out for you to help. Other times she’s telling you that you’re the reason she’s gone. Your carelessness. You didn’t lock the doors. The windows, you were fast, you didn’t hear anything, you—

“You okay?” Sam pulls you away from the dark thoughts and you nod. “Okay well, Dean’s asleep and I don’t think we’ll talk much right now, you can catch a few hours.” you nod at the offer, thanking him quietly. You're still in jeans yourself but you don't mind since you're not sure you’ll be sleeping. 

“I’ll take the couch.” he stares at you like you just said bruised his ego then shakes his head. “Sam, im serious, i dont sleep—”

“Vampire?” he jokes half heartedly and you smile.

“I just mean i usually take power naps. Please, sam, just take the bed.” he ends up pulling you on it next to him and you’re not sure why for the first time in months you fall asleep with no nightmares.

Sam doesnt. Sam wakes up suddenly, forcing you out of your sleep, to a nightmare. You’re shuddering thinking of the fact that you felt that safe in your dead sister’s boyfriend’s arms.

You pretend you’re asleep until sam’s breath gets softer and peel yourself off the bed and to the couch. Theres not much to do at four in the morning so you read, you snoop around for a bit, wonder how much sam would hate you if you opened his bag, and eventually take another nap on the couch. 

Still no nightmare, you wake up to the sound of Dean’s boots tapping against on the floor. You quickly sit up a little, taking in your surroundings.

“‘Morning, sweetheart.” your lips apart, sure you're going to respond like a normal human with ‘good morning’ but it doesn’t come, you just nod. “Want coffee?” only then do you notice the two paper cups in his hand.

“Sure, thanks, Dean.”

“Didn’t know what you liked so i got it cream and sugar.”

“It’s good, that’s how i usually take it.” totally not true, you actually take it with milk but you’re not sure you’re staying long enough for him to have to know that. He smiles at you, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly, Dean.” you mumble before trying the coffee. It’s not bad, not your usual taste but definitely still enjoyable.

“‘S no problem, you’re always welcome with us, i gave you my number so you could call me at anytime.” you can’t be held responsible for any of the fluttery feelings in your stomach after that. 

“I guess… i felt like i was slipping, you know? My parents— me and jess never talked to them and they didn’t even call me when she died, i literally had no one, as pathetic as it sounds. Our dad’s side hates us, my mum’s side is on the opposite side of the world and they’ve been calling me but it’s not the same. Its not fair to do this to you two but i dont now what else to do, i just wish someone would tell me.” you're not certain when the first tear started flowing but your thankful its the only one.

“Hey, we’re here for you. Always.” Somehow, you don’t believe it.