#and SUDDENLY i literally LITERALLY I BLACKED OUT AND IT WAS 5AM

[stevens-pastrami-sandwich]

yo chat i HATE this guy 💖

(click for better quality || reposts appreciated)

[spoopieere]

Very long rant

Just expressing my love for these slashers dw

I think none of you understand how bat shit crazy I am about Asa/Arkin and Preston/Jesse. Because- look, I’ve been all over them since 2020 okay? And for the past 3.5 years, I think about them daily. I think about them during meals, while I’m studying, in class, folding laundry- I CRY OVER THEM FFS. Istg I’ve been crying over them in silly angsts situations that I make up in my mind before I go to bed for the past years. I cried to the point that my old pillow cases literally got tear stains stacking and mold underneath bc of how damp it got. My crying got so severe that bawling my eyes out while thinking about them for 1 or 2 hours straight is normal. I cry about them almost every. Fucking. Night. If it’s mild, it’s 10-30 minutes. If it’s worse, 1-2 hours. If it’s severe, 3-4 hours. I cried so much I had to take water breaks, I cried until my head hurts and my eyes swollen. My nightly-crying streak record is 12 DAYS straight- where I cried over them every night. I can make myself cry on the spot if I think about them for too long. Sometimes they’d creep up inside my thoughts and I suddenly wanted to cry in public. I even shed a few tears during class bc I thought of them. They occupy my thoughts like a plague, I think about them so much that I just casually slip an “Arkin.” or “Preston!!” out loud- because I was repeating a scenario in my head. I even have a little self-insert to squeeze in there.

Once I got introduced to C.Ai, I got even worse because I literally cried from 11pm to 5AM while acting out the angstiest scenarios with the Jesse ai bot while rp-big as Preston. Don’t get me even fucking started on how many tears I shed over Asa ai bot while setting my persona as Arkin ( and vice versa ).

I’m so fucking obsessed I bought a black turtleneck bc I thought of Asa the moment I saw it. I always envisioned Asa as a cat. So now every time I see a video or pictures of cats meowing, abandoned cats or cats suffering, searching for their absent owners I just get sad then immediately get reminded of Asa. I compared Preston to a pigeon so now whenever I see any type of birds at all, I immediately think of Preston. I headcannoned Arkin to like fishing, so now IM interested in fishing. I have a ginormous amount of brain rot over these 4 mfs that- me and a mutual of mine, have texting back and forth all of our brainrot almost daily for THE PAST 7 MONTHS (since last June)- AND WE STILL HAVENT RAN OUT OF SHIT TO SAY YET.

AND- by the time I’m writing this it’s 5:45AM in my country, and I’ve just finished another crying session (over Jesse/ Preston this time) that lasted for over hour. Is this normal?? I don’t think it is. Idk what kind of autistic am I but DAMN-

[youremyheaven]

I MISSED YOU TOO <3333

ive never done any substances (never plan to. i don’t even want to touch cigarettes or alcohol because of past abuse with people who had a bad relationship with such things which was taken out on me instead) BUT one thing about depression that i cant find anyone talking about it how disoriented i am??

im alone these days so i blank at times just sitting on the floor and suddenly its 3 hours later, or i keep sleeping at 4-5am because ive had consecutive nightmares (even during naptimes) and so my sense of time is really really messed up

i still think its the start of september and the worst part is that im not even doing anything, im just blank, but sometimes im sobbing, sometimes im just tired but unable to sleep yk? youre so relatable about the cloudy part too because i still feel like im just in a daze

my last 1h year was actually horrid though. i never thought anyone else experienced it that way but mine was ☺️☺️ not the best. probably the worst year of my life LOLLL

I DID ASSUME YOU WERE A 12HOUSER but i always did just assume that you would have some significant pisces energy somewhere because of general vibes + the life experiences you talked about

the way i’m a 6th houser but im so stuck in spirituality all the time 😭😭 ive been disoriented this entire month but its also bc ive been doing spiritual stuff that kinda results in the detatchment from this 3D body yk? so when i snap back here its just off and weird but its so cool that we are kinda mirroring each other

AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE your analogy about emptiness meaning more space to grow like YES youre so right— i may tjink i have nothing coming up or building up for me rn but that just means more space to create new things i like right?? such a clever and cute way to think about things

- mother anon (an angel that is in the process of sewing on new wings)

"ive never done any substances (never plan to. i don’t even want to touch cigarettes or alcohol because of past abuse with people who had a bad relationship with such things which was taken out on me instead) BUT one thing about depression that i cant find anyone talking about it how disoriented i am??"

GIRLL. first of all, im proud of u for having such a strong stance against substances and i hope it stays that way<3

i was dissociating pretty heavily the last few months and the brain fog took over me completely so i feel u on the disoriented bit. depression manifests differently in different individuals. being angry, taking it out on others, being easily irritable, being unable to enjoy yourself, having no motivation to get anything done etc are all symptoms. ppl always have a black & white image of someone crying all day and while that can be a part of it. depression is a range of behaviours and long term depression often makes it very disorienting to process events and time. you feel disconnected. literally.

"im alone these days so i blank at times just sitting on the floor and suddenly its 3 hours later, or i keep sleeping at 4-5am because ive had consecutive nightmares (even during naptimes) and so my sense of time is really really messed up"

living alone is REALLYYY hard if you're depressed. whatever you just said describes me under the influence of substances. i hope you can spend time with a community bc the key to tackling depression is just getting out of that funk into a new routine that allows you to constructively spend your time and give you a daily sense of purpose.

im sorry u had a bad 1h year :((( i hope it was character defining at least and helped u learn and grow!! we mould ourselves into our highest versions thru our difficulties <3

mother knows best!!! u detected the 12h vibes and u were RIGHT!!

lmaoooo u getting spiritual and detaching from reality and me getting baked out of my mind and detaching from reality is soooo funny!!! at least we both let go!! imagine being attached 🤢🤢🤮🤮🤢EWW lol

im glad u like it!! im empty but i have soooo much room in my heart for all the blessings yet to come!! <33 and SO DO U MAMA <333

may u sew dem wings on and reach places u never could have before!!! u are soooo loved and u will get soooo much better, just hang in there!!! we're all with u<33

love always,

heaven

[nishirikiluv]

The Thrill of the Chase

pairings: yandere!K x reader

warnings: violence (choking, slapping, biting, hair pulling), restraints, threatening, groping, mentions of kidnapping, drugging, kissing, mentions of sex (no actual smut), please let me know if I've missed anything

a/n: I wrote this at literally 5am...

Your feet ached terribly from all the wounds you recieved in your current escape attempt. Sticks and stones digging into your soft flesh while you tried to run as fast and as far away from that nightmare of a house you were trapped in. You honestly can't even remember how long it's been since he brought you there. All you know is you never wanted to go back.

That's why this pain was bareable.

You ran aimlessly through the forest. Not a town or a single trace of other humans in sight. It was freezing out, and you were exhausted. You stopped to rest and it became eerily silent.

But that was a good thing, right?

If he was around you'd hear something. But you don't so it's safe to rest for a bit. You sat under a tree, resting your back against it and panting heavily.

Once you'd caught your breath, and the fear of beeing caught began to cloud your thoughts again, you got up and started moving again. You only walked for a bit when you finally saw a small cabin not too far ahead.

You ran to it, seeing light and what looked like 2 people inside. The cabin didn't look the most inviting but in your desperate need to feel warm, anything was acceptable. You knocked softly on the door. After a short moment, a tall boy with black hair opened the door.

"Hello Miss, may I help you?" You noticed behind him was an even taller boy with lighter brown hair. "Um, I was wondering.. if it would be okay for me to stay here tonight..?"

Neither of them answered, they only looked at you with matching looks of curiousity. "I'll leave in the morning, I just have no where to go right now.." You bit your lip looking down in embarrasment at how insane you must sound to them.

"Hmm.." You looked up through your lashes to see the taller one seemingly studying you. "Yeah you can stay, come on in!" You couldn't help the surprised gasp that escaped you, "really?!" They both nodded and ushered you inside.

They sat you down on the couch and offered you some warm tea. You thanked them and sipped on it, already feeling yourself warm up. "What's your name by the way?" The shorter one asked.

"I'm Y/n"

Once you shared your name, they exchanged a glance with each other. "Wonderful, nice to meet you. I'm Euijoo and that's Nicholas." the taller one flashed a close eyed smile to you as he introduced the two of them.

"Would you like a change of clothes, you look awfully cold in that" Nicholas offered. "Actually that would be really nice, thank you." He left to go grab those for you when Eujioo looked down at your feet. "What happened..?" he asked pointing to them.

"Ah.. I forgot shoes and theres a lot of sharp sticks on the floors around here" you laughed nervously and finished the last sip of your tea. "I'll get you something for that!" He left before you could respond, and Nicholas was back with some clothes.

He directed you to a room you could change in, so you changed and went back to the couch where Euijoo was waiting for you. "This might sting a little but it'll help to clean your feet so those cuts don't get infected." He handed you some disinfectant, "Thank you so much, you both are so kind." You cleaned all the wounds on your feet, they did sting but not terribly.

You yawned suddenly feeling your exhaustion catch up to you. "You can rest over in that room you changed in." Nicholas smiled warmly at you. You thanked them both again and he helped walk you to the room. Once you layed on the bed you drifted off to sleep immediately.

The next morning when you woke up, you were met with Euijoo placing a fresh set of clothes on the nightstand by the bed you were in. "Ah, you're awake! These are new clothes for you. I made breakfast for the two of us." You thanked him, changed into the clothes, and joined him for breakfast.

"Nicholas isn't here?" He shook his head, pouring a glass of juice for you. "He left early in the morning to do something." You nodded your head and thanked him for the breakfast, eating all the delicious food he made.

After a little while of staying with Euijoo you decided it would probably be best to leave before it got dark. "Euijoo I'm sorry I think I should be on my way now, thank you so much for everthing! Please thank Nicholas for me as well." He shook his head, directing you to the window. "You can't go, there's going to be a storm." However, the sky had not a single cloud in sight. "Are you sure? The skies look clear to me." He nodded and insisted it was very unsafe and ultimately convinced you to stay another night.

You and Euijoo had spent the day together watching TV and talking. Once it became later you noticed there hadn't been any storm, the weather was clear as you suspected. It felt too late to roam around now though, so you'd stay just one more night.

"Nicholas is back." Euijoo smiled brightly and went to open the door for him. "Oh, You brought company?" You couldn't help your curiousity, peeking over to see who entered with Nicholas. The man was tall like them and he walked in with a hoodie on and his face covered. Weird.

Nicholas greeted you and whispered something to Euijoo who's eyes widened and he nodded. They both walked outside together saying they'd be right back. You were left alone with the strange man who had been staring at you since the moment he arrived.

You awkwardly shifted on the couch when you saw him walking towards you. For some reason your anxiety began to rise the closer he got to you. He simply sat next to you on the couch, a little too close in your opinion, but it wasn't that big of a deal.

You could still feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, but you refused to look up at him. Instead you looked down at your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers awkwardly. It was dead silent when he let out a soft chuckle, causing you to jump slightly.

You finally looked up at him, into his eyes, noticing the familiarity of them. You gasped and shifted away slightly. He pulled down the coverings from his face and you trembled in fear. "N-no... No! W-why are you here?!" You felt tears well up in your eyes and your breathing became heavy.

He flashed a smile so innocent at you that anyone who saw it would never expect him to be such a violent and cruel man. However, you knew him differently. "My precious darling, Y/n... I hope you had fun on your little adventure here. It's time to come home."

You shook your head rapidly and stood up, backing away and putting distance between you two. "I- I'm not going anywhere with you, Kei." You backed away to the front door, not taking your eyes off him so you could watch his movements. "You don't have a choice, baby." The sinister smirk he wore sent chills down your spine, but you weren't letting him win without a fight. You fiddled with the doorknob behind your back and once it opened you ran back into the woods, with no sense of where to go.

Anywhere away from him was okay.

You could hear him chasing not far behind you. "Fuck- ouch!" You stepped on a particularly sharp rock, but you couldn't stop, he's faster and has more stamina than you.

The further you ran, the more you felt it getting harder to breathe. You'd been running for a while, and when you turned back you didn't see Kei there. You looked around while trying to catch your breath. You walked and walked and he was no where.

You spotted Nicholas and Euijoo ahead, so you ran to them. "Guys! Please help me!" They looked at you this time with expressionless eyes, "Where'd you run off to, Y/n" Nicholas asked as Euijoo and him moved to both sides of you, each grabbing an arm. "I was.. what are you guys doing..?" You tried to shake them off but they only held onto you tighter. "We're helping you, of course." They walked you back in the direction you came from.

That's when you saw him. You finally realized this whole setup was a trap. "No- Stop, I don't want to go back!" Tears spilled from your eyes again and you used all your strength trying to get Nicholas and Euijoo off of you but they looked unphased and if anything, slightly annoyed.

Kei walked up to you, caressing your cheek softly, before landing a harsh slap across it. More tears fell from your eyes at the stinging pain in your now red cheek. "You should've never run away from me. I trust you know what's going to happen when we get home."

You couldn't even form a reply, the situation causing you to feel drowned in sorrow. He tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging roughly, forcing you to look up at him. You winced at that and his other hand came up to wipe your tears away. "When will you learn..." he sighed and you closed your eyes sniffling softly. You then felt a sharp poke in your neck, your eyes shot open. He injected you with it and within seconds you were out. Nicholas and Euijoo handed you over to him and he carried you back to your "home".

When you woke up, your hands were tied above your head and your mouth was gagged. He had you lying in bed, wearing his favorite little dress. You struggled uncomfortably, huffing at how tight the restraints were.

He walked in to see you squirming in the bed. "Aw, you're awake my love. That's good, I think we need to talk." He climbed on top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He slotted one knee between your legs and kept the other one to your side. Your breathing became rapid in fear and frustration.

He leaned down burrying his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent and sighing in satisfaction. It disgusted you how infatuated he was with you. "You know.." he trailed one of his hands softly along your neck, "you made me really angry with that stunt you pulled." He wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing and constricting your airflow. Your protests and whines were muffled by the gag and he watched in amusement at the way your hands tried so desperately to get free and stop him.

He tightened his grip causing tears to spill from your eyes yet again, "What's wrong baby? You can't breathe?" He chuckled, removing the gag from your mouth to hear your cries clearly. He let go after another moment, you coughed and gasped catching your breath.

He gripped your jaw harshly, fingers digging into your cheeks. "You're such a pretty little thing tied up like that, baby." He pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your lower lip. You didn't reciprocate the kiss, feeling nauseous from the thought. He bit down on your lip, causing you to flinch and squirm. He pulled a knife from the drawer by the bed, "If you don't kiss me, I'll slit your fucking throat, darling." You gulped and nodded, so when his lips were on yours again, you leaned into it and moved yours against his.

He set the knife down, sliding his hands across your body. He squeezed your boobs through the fabric of your dress, you whined and shut your eyes tight. You writhed beneath him wanting his hands off you. He pressed his knee that was between your legs up against your cunt, "The more you fight, the more I just want to fuck you." You shook your head, pleading with him not to, of course he only laughed in response. "Your body belongs to me, I'll do what I want with it. Besides, I'm in the mood now to have a little fun with you."

"Don't think I've forgotten about your punishment though, it'll just stay postponed until later."

[alphamales-rp]

Alexander was an extremely busy (and wealthy) man. He was the head of a legendary Fortune 500 company and a board member on several others. His schedule was packed incredibly tight and his time is, almost literally, money. Because of this, he'd never really considered being in a real relationship - it had simply never crossed his mind. He hooked up now and then, but it was as much business to him as his morning meetings were. That was until he'd attended a benefit a couple weeks ago and laid eyes on a man so beautiful, he bordered on angelic with his cherub face and sculpted physique and Alex simply had to have him. And while Alex held a strict one-time-only policy with his lovers ... he found himself having to have Kevin again ... and again ... and before he knew it they'd shared actual numbers and he was seeing the other for dates and hookups weekly. He still hadn't come to the conclusion that he was in an actual relationship or what he and Kevin were and his old habits of leaving his hookups at the crack of dawn and immediately focusing on work again as soon as the night was over, were dying slow, hard deaths.

He gently woke up, knowing it was sometime around 5am as that was when his biological clock always woke him up. He then slowly sat up, stretching his arms up and letting out a soft groan. The groan turned into a small noise of surprise when suddenly he felt Kevin wrapping his arms around him. He looked down and blinked in absolute astonishment. Did he- did he hear that right? Did Kevin just call him 'Daddy'? And did ... did he like that? Why did it sound so good and so ... right? His morning daze almost immediately wearing off as his mind raced and his heart began to do the same. "Uh-" he swallowed hard, completely caught by surprise - something that nobody had been able to do for the last ten years - and gave in, "Okay, yeah ... I guess ... I mean ... we can do that," he said, scratching the back of his neck before looking over at the night stand and grabbing his phone and quickly typing something out, sending a quick email to his multiple assistants that he wouldn't be available for the day.

When he locked his screen and saw his reflection in the black glass, he finally processed what had happened. He'd just taken his first day off in two decades. He slowly started to lean backwards, moving Kevin around to curl up to his side, wrapping an arm around him in doing so, as he landed with his back against the mattress and staring up at the ceiling, feeling like his whole world just turned upside down. "I want you to keep calling me that ..." he finally murmured, looking over at Kevin with a little smile, "I like it ... a lot," he added, letting his hand trace mindlessly across Kevin's skin, "So what ... what do people do on days off?"

cute little starter with kevin miller + @alphamales-rp

kevin didn't know what time it was. lately, the man he was with was leaving very early for work and kevin felt like he never got a chance to spend time with him. but he didn't want to be so needy, or to sound so needy. but he was, and it was so hard not to be when the man he was with looked the way that he did. he was practically a superhero underneath that body, and yet the man chose him to be with? kevin got lucky. but as soon as the other sat up, kevin rolled over and he let his arms wrap around his waist. " daddy, " he whispered. " please stay, it's friday. call in sick, or take the day off, stay in with me, please? " he softly spoke, leaning in and kissing the man on the back.

[ellieswaifu]

hii :)) im so obsessed with ur writings! can u do another smut (ellie x f!reader) where reader gives ellie a sexy dance leading to rough sex? and a lot of dirty talks from ellie cuz AAAAHH IM SIMPING SO HARD FOR ELLIE AND UR WRITINGS OMG~ ty ty

mercy | ellie x fem!reader

⌕ summary. ellie comes home to a wonderful surprise; you give her a lap dance.┆masterlist

⌕ warnings. fucking filthy ok guys so mdni, cursing, literally smut for a whole 3 thousand words; thigh riding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, degradation, praising, pet names (slut, baby, princess, babygirl), dumbification, use of strap-on. size kink? uhh not proofread *thumbs up*

⌕ word count. 3.23k+

a/n: ty for requesting!! publishing at like 5am bc i can’t sleep LOL // i may or may not have gone overboard i sorry if this is too mucch ;-( i hope u enjoi - bella <3

When Ellie steps through the front door of her converted garage, she doesn’t expect you to cover her eyes from behind her with your delicate hands, blocking her vision. A breathy laugh leaves her mouth, as she stays still, waiting for you to say something. You lead her several more steps into the room with your hands still over her eyes as you sit her down in a chair.

“Your eyes better be closed when I move my hands,” you tell her.

Ellie smirks, practically hearing your smile behind your words, “Okay, okay.”

You slowly pull your hands away from her face as you take a peek from behind her. She listened and kept her eyes shut, carefully listening to your every movement, her mind shuffling to try and find out what you were planning to do. Ellie can hear you shuffle from behind her where her nightstand was and if she remembers correctly, there was an alarm clock, a small stack of her superhero cards, and a boom box sitting right next to it on the floor.

You can’t hide the excitement on your face as you insert a CD into her speaker, but there was also a sense of nervousness in your body, wondering if this was something Ellie would like.

Shaking off your thoughts, you click the play button on the boom box. A slow but sensual song fills the room, and Ellie can’t help but smile. She can hear your footsteps coming closer from behind her, feeling your hand on her shoulder as you step in between her legs.

“You can open your eyes now,” you whisper into her ear, before stepping away to stand a little farther from her.

Ellie eyelids flutter open, and suddenly your standing right in front of her under the dim lighting in one of her larger flannel shirts, loosely bound together by one button, your obvious breasts hiding behind the fabric and your soft legs on full display for her. Fuck. She’s eyeing every inch of you, and she swears her heart is beating at the same tempo as the song playing in the background.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Ellie smirks, already knowing the answer to that question.

But, when you start moving, Ellie almost loses it; gripping the sides of her seat tightly, suppressing the urge to jump at you and eat you up like you were last meal.

Her jaw hangs slightly in awe as she watches you dance in front of her. The sway of your hips and your arms rubbing at your waist, pulling the fabric of her flannel up only slightly, teasing the sight of your black, lace lingerie, is driving her near the edge.

“Fuck, (Y/n),” she breathes out, staring hard as you dance to the rhythm of the song playing in the background.

Ellie groans when you turn around, shaking your hips lightly and pulling up her flannel, putting your ass on full display for her. So pretty. She can’t enough of you. She wants to reach out, to grab you, and fuck you like there was no tomorrow, but she doesn’t move an inch. Something about the way you were looking at her is telling her that there were going to be consequences if she moved from her seat.

You continue to dance to the music, your body moving in smooth waves, as you make your way towards her. The smile on your face makes her want to ruin you, make you feel so good that you forget her name.

With lidded eyes, you stare at her you lean down, your cleavage right in her face. Ellie almost stops breathing, staring down the valley of your breasts, wanting to rip that shirt right off of you.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now,” Ellie admits as your gentle hands move to rest on her shoulders.

You can’t help but smirk at the comment she just made. Bringing your legs over her thighs, you sit on her lap, your soaked panties rubbing against her jeans and Ellie brings her hands to put on your waist, but the moment she touched them, you slapped her hands away and she just looks at you with her eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why you didn’t let her touch you.

“No touching, Ellie,” you whisper into her ear, wrapping your arms around her neck as you roll your body against her chest.

Ellie swallows the lump in her throat and goes back to gripping the sides of her chair with a groan, leaning her head back in frustration, “Please… I want you now.”

You smile into her neck, leaving light kisses on her skin, as the friction of her jeans against your core makes you even wetter.

“Not yet, Ellie,” you tell her with a smirk playing at your lips. “If you keep hands to yourself, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

And just like that, Ellie listens immediately, her grip on the chair loosening only slightly, feeling nothing but your breath on her neck and your body against hers. Ellie can’t help but breathe heavily when you drag your hands against her torso, feeling up her abs through the thin fabric of her shirt before going to your own, playing at the buttons of the flannel that was barely holding on to your body. She’s biting and licking her lips impatiently in frustration, wanting to put her hands all over you and pull those damn clothes off of you.

At an agonizing pace, you undo the buttons of your shirt, sliding it off of your shoulders, as her green eyes finally meet the black lingerie that your boobs sat so nicely in and your panties hugging your hips perfectly. Her breath hitches and stares down at your delicious body with her lips parted. The hardest thing she had to do right now was to control herself from rubbing her palms all over your skin, shoving her fingers inside of you, making you moan. She wanted all of it now.

But you wouldn’t let her do that if she broke the rules.

The moan that leaves your mouth makes Ellie realize what you’re doing. Your hips rolled over her legs as your clothed clit rubs against her thigh. The rough friction of her jeans has you trembling in her lap, grip on her shoulders tightening as you try to get off on her thigh.

“Look at my dirty, little slut… trying to cum all by herself…” Ellie smirks, watching you fuck yourself on her thigh as she flexes the muscle in her leg. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you right now, baby?”

You moan louder at the sound of her voice, but you shake your head, not wanting to give in to her little ploy to get you to let her touch you.

“Oh, but I can make you feel so, so good,” she whispers into your ear with a low, patronizing voice. “I can fuck you so hard.”

You continue to shake your head in denial, an attempt to hold your end of the deal just a little longer, but her words were driving you insane. You continue to grind against her thigh, moving back and forth as her jeans rubbed your clothed clit again, and again, and again.

You were trembling now, and Ellie can feel your wetness soaking her jeans as you rode her thigh. She watches intently as you roll your head back, her face right in front of yours, observing the way your face contorts and your mouth hangs lowly with your eyebrows furrowing hard above your closed eyes. You look so pretty. Moaning right on top of her. Your pussy rubbing against her thigh. Fuck, she was so close to touching you.

“I- I’m— c-close—“

Ellie already knows. She can feel the way your shaking, the way hips tensed every time you you moved. Without a warning, Ellie brings her thigh up slightly, suddenly pressing onto your clit, making you yelp and jolt, holding onto her tightly with your arms.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” she asks you, pressing her flexing thigh harder against your slick pussy. “So fucking wet…”

And finally, you spasm on her lap, legs trembling, as you try to close your legs as much as possible. You soak her jeans way more than before, and you’re a little embarrassed at how messy you came on her leg, but when you look up, Ellie just gives you devious smirk.

“Gorgeous, little girl,” she calls you. “Do you not want me to touch you?”

You only stare at her, still trying to catch your breath, grip on her shoulders loosening, “I- I want…”

“Hm?” Ellie hums, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and away from you sweaty forehead.

“I- I want you to touch me—“

And you don’t even get to finish your sentence. Ellie grabs your thighs and lifts you up, standing from her chair. You wrap your legs around her and try to prepare for what she has in store for you. She leads the both of you to her bed, and roughly throws you down onto it with a huff.

Ellie can’t help but stare at your body, sprawled out just for her. Her hands move to pull your bra downwards and away from your breasts, freeing your nipples in a smooth motion. Fuck. She rubs her hands all over you skin, over your stomach, down your waist and then to you thighs where she lifts them up with ease, spreading them apart from each other. She can see your cum dripping from from pussy and down your thighs through the fabric of your panties and she can’t help but groan. So fucking delicious.

“Look at how much you came, princess,” she says, rubbing her fingers against your sensitive, clothed clit. “My little slut can cum a little more than that, can’t she? You said you’ll let me do anything to you… Are you sure you can handle it?”

You moan at the feeling of her fingers playing with your folds through your panties, nodding eagerly at her words, “Mhm— Yes, Ellie, please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me—“

Ellie drops to her knees and gives you a long lick through the fabric, before pulling them right off of your legs, ripping it a little bit when she pulled on them. She can’t help but take a second to stare at your dripping core, pulling your pussy lips apart with her fingers. Your slick cunt messy with your previous release, dripping onto her fingers. Fuck. She wastes no time, delving her tongue right into your hole, mercilessly lapping you up like it was the last time she’ll ever get the chance to. She devours you, holding back nothing as you moan and shake, wrapping your legs around her head.

Ellie moans into you pussy before wrapping her lips around your small bundle of nerves and sucking hard. You help at the stimulation on clit, pulling at her brown hair and suffocating her with your thighs. You feel her fingers playing at the side of your pussy only for a second until she pushes them inside, stretching you out with her slender fingers as she voraciously sucks on your clit.

“Fuuuck—“ you moan loudly, legs already shaking as Ellie locks you in place to get you to stop squirming away from her.

The suction of her mouth and her fingers plunging into to you again and again has you coming in a matter of minutes. You come right on her fingers, screaming her name as she lets you ride it out for a only a moment. Ellie smirks against your clit, pulls her fingers out of you, leaving you empty and clenching around air.

You feel her tongue inside of you once again, pulling you down to the edge of the bed. She laps up your juices, cleaning you up with your tongue ruthlessly, as you pull at her bed sheets — an attempt to get away from the continuous overstimulation. Her tongue shows no mercy, swirling inside of you. You taste so fucking good in her mouth. She’s drinking you. All of you. Sloppily with her tongue. And before you know it, you come for a second time on her tongue, babbling her name over and over again.

Ellie looks up at you, your cum dripping from her mouth, with a smile on her face, “Look at how much you came, baby.”

She rubs your pussy with her fingers, not caring about how stimulated you were. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about how sensitive you were. She was going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you, until you couldn’t take it anymore. And that was a fucking promise. You whine at her touch, legs trembling on her shoulders before she pulls away from you suddenly to rummage through her things somewhere in the corner of the room.

She comes back and your eyes widen at the large, silicone strap-on dangling in between her legs. Intimidated by the length, you prop yourself up on your elbows, staring hard at the length and girth of the cock that was going to fill you up. This wasn’t the first time she used it, but it has always made you nervous and always left you fucked out and breathless for her.

“E-Ellie,” you start, closing your legs only slightly.

She frowns at the sight, rubbing your thighs softly with her hands, “Spread those legs for me, baby.”

And you do as she says, your knees part from each other, spreading your legs wide — welcoming her right in between your thighs. She lines her cock right into the center of your pussy, dragging the tip up and down your sensitive folds and you can’t help but shiver at the light touches on your clit while her hand soothingly rubs your thighs.

“Good girl — That’s a good fucking girl.”

Ellie can hear all the wet noises your pussy was making just for her, the squelch when your lips part because of the tip of her strap-on, the way your cum was dripping down to your ass, and the soft whimpers that fell from your mouth was doing nothing but driving her crazy. So fucking pretty. All for her.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” she asks you, watching your face closely.

Your head rolls back onto her mattress, moaning at the way the tip of her cock rubs against her clit, “Fuck, yes, Ellie… Please—“

So needy. So desperate. She can hear the way you clench around nothing. She rubs your juices all over her cock, before pushing inside of you, slowly stretching you out around her girth, until she was pressed up against you. She filled you, her entire cock stretching you out deliciously. You’re already shaking and she hasn’t even moved yet. Grabbing your legs and putting them over her shoulders, Ellie leans down peppering kisses all over your skin before trailing up to your lips, with she gives you a long, sensual kiss. You moan into her mouth at the small movements she makes inside of you, whimpering at how big the strap was.

“S-So big, Ellie,” you cry, hands already gripping the bed sheets.

“But, you can take it,” she smiles into your lips. “You’ve done it before.”

And Ellie pulls her cock out, the tip still inside of you. She leaves you waiting, for an agonizingly long time, or so it felt like, before thrusting downward into you with no warning. She was deep inside of you and all you could do was cry out as she pulls back another time to sink into your slick pussy again. Then again, and again, and again.

Ellie’s silicone cock continued to slide in and out of you, making you scream her name. She drills into you, hitting that spot in your pussy countless times, as you begin to feel tears run down your face. Green eyes look down, watching how your pussy sucks her cock in and out, coating the dildo with your slick, glistening juices. Your eyes are rolling back with the overwhelming pleasure pooling in between your thighs. You babble her name over and her again, whimpering each time she pulls out and thrusts back in, stretching you out until she thrusts against your cervix.

“Look at how good you take it,” she tells you, “So dumb for my cock, huh, baby?”

And it’s building again, that overwhelming sensation down in between your legs. You’re tightening around her as she pistons in and out you. The sloppy sound of Ellie stretching you out with her cock fills the room as you walls tighten all around here, your orgasm comes crashing in waves as you tremble against her. You gush around her as her cock comes out glistening more each time she pulls out. But, she doesn’t stop. A sly smile appears on Ellie’s lips as she continues to fuck you through your climax. She was fucking you dumb. She grips your thighs and slams you down, sinking her cock right into again and again.

Salty trails roll down your cheeks as she fucks you, loving the way you sucked her in so well, creaming all over her. Ellie deep inside of you, her cock so big, practically feeling her in your tummy.

“You can give me another one, can’t you, baby? For me, please?”

And goes on and on, thrusting into you for god knows how long. You’ve lost count of how many times you came already and all you can see are stars and hear Ellie whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Her little slut. Taking her so fucking well.

And another one; another orgasm building down there once again. That tingling sensation in between your legs as she consistently fucks you through each and every one of your climaxes, legs still spread wide and open for her. And the band fucking breaks; you squirt all over cock, making a mess on her thighs and her lower torso, and Ellie is just distracted. She moves to fuck your through it again but only until she hears you whimpering her name, limp on the bed, reaching out for her.

“El… Ellie– I-I came…” you say, trembling under her touch.

Ellie slows her movements until to comes to halt. You felt so full, her silicone cock warming up inside of you. Hair was matted to your sweaty face as you try and take deep breaths. Your pussy felt so sensitive and your body wouldn’t stop trembling. Shivers were sent down your spine as Ellie leaves soft kisses along your neck, listening to the way you were breathing.

She couldn’t be any more proud of you. Her hands run your thighs soothingly, making you feel a little sleepy, and she can’t help but smile at your tear stained face as she brings one hand up to wipe your tears away with her thumb.

“Thank you, babe,” she whispers against your cheek. “You did so well, my pretty girl.”

And look at you; her pretty, pretty baby all fucked out because of her.

a/n! ty for reading : >

[eepy-pleepy]

It’s Not Everest (No Vacancy)

The neon “NO” is hidden behind an overgrown shrub, so Dean pulls the Impala into the motel parking lot before they can see that it is, in fact, lit.

“Awesome.” Dean says in a tone that clearly doesn’t think so, and whips the car around to pull back onto the dark road. They immediately hit a pothole and Sam’s head bumps the ceiling.

“Ow, wait, Dean, we didn't go check with the office, maybe they just left the sign lit because they can’t freaking see it–”

“No, Sam, every goddamn motel in this godless town is full up and I don’t particularly feel like walking into another musty fucking office just to have them tell me I need to learn how to read. It’s too damn late, I’m too damn tired, I’m just gonna find a pull-off where the cops won’t feel the need to be our 5AM wake-up call and we’re sleeping in Baby. Fuck it.” He emphasizes the last sentence by throwing the car into park, all seventeen feet of shiny black metal successfully hidden behind a bank of tall, scraggly shrubs off the shoulder of the road. Dean kills the engine and the early summer evening rises to fill the silence with the musical stylings of several hundred crickets.

“Dean.”

“We’ve done it before, Sam.”

“I know we have. What about Cas?”

Dean looks over at the passenger’s side. Sitting shotgun, Cas looks back at him, his eyes just a dark glint in the moonlight.

“I can just... keep watch outside.” He says.

“Bad fucking idea.” Dean snaps. “I wake up in the middle of the night and see you out there lurking, I might shoot you between the eyes. You’re staying in the damn car.”

“Dean, there’s not enough roo–”

“Look, Sammy, passing out is passing out, sitting or lying down. This is a molehill, not Everest. I just need my four hours, damn.”

Dean crams up against the driver’s side door, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his bent knees against the back of the seat between himself and Cas. He’ll worry about bootprints on the leather upholstery when he isn’t so fucking exhausted.

“Jerk.” Sam mutters from the backseat, almost inaudible.

“Goodnight, bitch.”

“Goodnight, Dean. Sam.” Cas murmurs.

“Don’t make it weird, Cas.”

"Goodnight, Cas."

"Thank you, Sam."

Dean gives a little huff through his nose. Cas folds his hands in his lap and turns his head forward to watch the fireflies.

Dean doesn’t like it when Cas watches him sleep. Cas knows this.

But if he doesn't want eyes on him, he shouldn’t be drawing so much attention to himself. This is the fourth time inside of an hour that he’s shifted around, clearly uncomfortable with his sleeping arrangement, six feet of full-grown man trying to figure out how to make three feet work for him.

It's clearly not working out.

Dean's head has fallen against Castiel’s arm. He’s snoring gently, Cas can feel his breath warm through the sleeve of his trench coat.

He shuts his eyes. Pulls his focus down to just this, the upper lefthand side of his body. Feels the weight of Dean's head, the unyielding shape of his skull, the softness of his cheek. Cas turns his head towards him, just to better assess the situation. Not at all to feel the soft tickle of Dean’s hair against his nose and lips. That’s just an... accidental consequence.

Cas feels too big for his own skin. It’s something a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent should be entirely familiar with, but this isn't the feeling of cramming a Chrysler building into a 5-foot-11-inch frame.

This is bigger than that.

The slump of Dean’s body across the seat means that his head is the only thing supported, and it has his neck at a bad angle. If Dean's an angry sleeper, he's even worse with a crick in his neck and Cas doesn't love the idea of being stuck in a car with that tomorrow. He can't pull Dean more flush against his side without the risk of waking him and sending him into a conniption of bruised heterosexuality, so instead, he carefully lifts his arm. It works perfectly: Dean slides forward, falling to lying down with his head in Cas' lap.

The effect is immediate. The uncomfortable pinch between Dean's brows smooths away and he takes a deep, slow breath, settling against his new pillow and sinking into an easier sleep.

Cas hasn't realized he's smiling, yet. It's a tiny, soft thing, the one he gets when he's looking at something precious.

He is.

The moonlight catches the sweep of Dean's eyelashes, the top of his cheek, the shell of his ear, gilding them silver. His lips are parted, plush and dark in the contrast of the pale light. He's slightly curled up on the bench seat and Cas knows it's to fit the small space but that doesn't mean it's not the most fucking endearing thing he's ever seen.

The short hair over Dean's ear is mussed from the way he was slumped like a grumpy turtle past the collars of his shirt and jacket. Delicate, Cas brushes it right again.

Dean shifts, pressing up into his ghost of a touch. Cas draws back, afraid he's been caught doing something definitely not on Dean's approved list of Things Just Friends Do, but Dean doesn't wake. Cas' hand hovers.

He shouldn't. He should return to looking out of the front windshield and prepare the diffusion for when Dean wakes up to find himself sleeping in Cas' lap. That's what he should do.

The trouble is, nothing short of a fucking catastrophe could pull his eyes away from this. Dean is so beautiful, so calm and easy in his slumber, and he's right here, safe and close and warm. Literally right in his lap.

Cas pets Dean's hair, feeling that dangerous constriction again, something so huge and profound it might very well burst him. Dean sleeps on.

"You should tell him."

Sam's voice from the backseat is so quiet it's barely a whisper, but it startles Cas like a gunshot. He turns his head a margin to find Sam watching him, head and shoulders against the back driver's side door, arms crossed over his chest.

"Did you say something?" Cas tries, matching Sam's barely-there whisper.

"You heard me."

"Tell him what?"

"You love him."

Cas turns his head further so he's not just looking at Sam out of his periphery. There's nothing accusatory in Sam's tone, quiet as it is, or in his posture, cramped as it may be. He looks back at Cas with nothing but the same easy camaraderie he's always shown him, like they're discussing a good book or the lovely weather, not a complete paradigm shift.

In his lap, Dean tucks one hand under Cas' thigh and nuzzles his face deeper against the fabric of his pants. Cas looks down at him again and feels ready to explode into several new galaxies.

"I can't." He breathes.

"Why not?"

"You know your brother, Sam.” Cas says, unable to stop himself from stroking light fingers through Dean’s hair again. “And I’m happy. I refuse to risk losing him in pursuit of something I don’t need from him.”

“You’re right, I do know my brother. Probably better than he’d like to believe.” Sam says. “And I think he might surprise you, given the chance.”

Cas looks back at Sam like he wants to argue, but then just closes his mouth, his jaw bunching. Sam gives a little shrug and sits forward, reaching behind himself for the door handle.

“Just some, uh… food for thought.” He says. “I’m gonna hit the head. I’ll take my time. No particular reason.”

“Sam.”

But Sam’s already unfolding out into the night air, the car rocking as his weight shifts. The crickets are suddenly much louder, invading their little bubble of quiet. In Cas’ lap, Dean twitches.

Sam shuts the car door and Dean sits bolt upright. His gun, dropped in the footwell before he fell asleep, is in his grasp in a blink.

“Sam's just gone to relieve his bladder.” Cas says next to him. Dean squints at him and sniffs, wiping at his groggy eyes, then flicks the safety back on. The gun hits the footwell again with a dull thunk.

"God. Like a damn cashew. You'd think with all that height there'd be more... storage."

Cas is carefully looking forward, and not at the red mark on Dean’s cheek that’s the same shape as the warm spot rapidly cooling on his thigh. Dean rubs at that side of his face.

“Was I…?” He clears his throat. “Uh.”

“Asleep? Yes. I thought that was the idea.”

“Lying on you.”

“You needed to stretch out.”

Dean gives a frustrated sigh. “No, Cas, man, that’s your personal space. You should have shoved me off.”

“It was easier on your neck.” Cas says, still looking straight ahead. “You weren’t bothering me.”

“That’s not the point. You gotta have boundaries.”

“What’s mine is yours, Dean. I have no qualms sharing everything I have with you.”

Dean scoffs, leaning forward over the steering wheel and tilting to pop his spine. “Jesus. You ol’ romantic.”

Cas turns his head to look at Dean. The slightly uncomfortable smirk slowly slips off of Dean’s face. His eyes drop to Cas' lips before he catches himself, and he makes a weak attempt to laugh the charge out of the air between them.

“Man, you gotta figure out your levels. Last person who looked at me like that had me thinking marriage."

“Dean, why do you say things like that?”

Dean’s shoulders shove up under his ears. “You turn eyes like that on some innocent girl she’s gonna up and devote her entire life to you, Cas, I’m just letting you know you gotta tone it down!”

“Why would I turn eyes like this on some innocent girl?”

“Because you’re doin’ it to me like you think it’s a normal thing to do!”

“Dean, maybe you need to figure out how to receive a signal without assuming the other person isn't aware of what they're broadcasting." Cas snaps, then subsides as something like fear flickers across his face.

Dean’s jaw hangs uselessly for a stunned moment.

"Cas. You–"

Cas watches him in the manner of a gazelle waiting for a sudden deadly movement. Dean's gaze flits to Cas’ lips again.

"You. Uh." He says eloquently, and his tongue darts out in a nervous motion. This makes his lips impossible to ignore, shiny and wet in the moonlight.

“It's not Everest." Cas whispers.

"It kinda fuckin' is." Dean says, hoarse.

“Forget it. You should go back to sleep.” Cas says, reaching towards Dean with two fingers. It’s his fighter’s instinct that makes Dean grab them before they can touch his forehead, but it’s something else entirely that bunches his other hand in the front of Cas’ coat and yanks him forward. Cas tumbles gracelessly on top of Dean, and Dean doesn’t give either of them time to think.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips, Cas melts. A tiny sound escapes him, not quite a sigh, not quite a moan, and he’s grasping Dean’s shoulder like it’s the only thing preventing him from falling into the footwell. Their mouths part with a soft, wet noise and Cas meets Dean’s eyes, almost too close to focus on.

His arm is pressed across Dean’s chest from his fall. He can feel Dean’s heartbeat, galloping like an outlaw with the sheriff on his tail, and he understands the feeling.

“Dean.” He croaks.

“Yeah.”

“Do that again.”

Dean nuzzles their noses together, nudges Cas’ mouth in a barely-there brush of lips. Cas touches Dean’s face, dizzy with it, feeling stubble rough on the skin of Dean's jaw. He presses forward, holding Dean’s face like the beloved thing it is, and kisses him reverently. Dean sinks against the door until he’s lying across the seats and shoves his arms up under Cas’ suit jacket, encircling his back.

The crickets play them a love song. It’s entirely lost on them.

When Sam returns, approaching the Impala with caution, he finds his brother asleep with his angel hugged against him like a large, man-shaped teddy bear. Cas glances up, clocking the motion of Sam leaning over to peer through the driver’s window, and there’s a smile on his face that Sam’s never seen on him before.

If happy was what he had been, then this? This is pure, unfiltered bliss.

Sam slides carefully into the back seat and shuts the door as gently as he can.

“I’ll save my I Told You So, but only because you look so cute.” He whispers.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Read on Ao3

[on-maars]

Another Place

Literally I haven’t been able to stop screaming since ep2 came out and I needed to write something

Read on AO3

Bobby is halfway through the third part of The Outsider when he hears a sharp noise followed by a curse coming from the fire station's kitchen. He sits up straight on his chair and even though the voice comes as a whisper, the door to his office is still ajar and Bobby can recognize some Spanish he learned back when he was in high-school.

It’s Eddie then, who always tends to resort to Spanish when he wants to curse or complain about something to himself.

Bobby puts down his book on his desk, stands up and opens his office door a bit wider so he can take a few steps inside the kitchen. The room is plunged into darkness but Bobby can still catch sight of Eddie’s silhouette, standing in front of a box of herbal tea, his eyebrows furrowed, as if he’s currently facing the most complicated dilemma of his entire life.

“Can’t sleep?” Bobby asks and makes Eddie jump with surprise, letting go of the mug he was holding in his right hand. And Bobby might be over 40 but his reflexes are still good and he managed to catch it before it breaks on the floor.

“Shit Bobby, you scared the hell out of me. Thought I was the only one awake.” Eddie says but his voice seems sad, almost dejected.

“Nightmares?” Bobby asks. After all, Eddie’s been through a lot for the past few months, it would only makes sense for his sleep to still be haunted by the memories of the shooting.

“More like insomnia.” Eddie corrects him, his eyes still down. “There’s just stuff I can’t get out of my head, you know.”

“Stuff about the shooting?” Bobby says calmly, but that’s enough for Eddie’s face to wince in pain.

“Among other things.”

“Why don’t you go sit down on the couch and let me take care of it?” He offers. Eddie’s hand stops in mid air and his shoulders eventually slumped as his heads nods, retreating back from the kitchen with a heavy step.

Bobby fills the kettle with water and turns it on before opening the box of herbal tea still on the counter. It’s an old box, supposed to help you sleep, one of those things he brought from home a few years ago when he realized it wasn’t much use back there. He places the tea bag in the mug, opens the drawer to grab a spoon and half a sugar cube. His movements are robotic, like he’s done that a thousand times in the past. And he did, back when his nights were filled with nightmares.

He lets out a sigh and leans against the fridge, looking at Eddie out of the corner of the eye. He’s seated on the armchair, his eyes fixed on the ground, the same haunted look Bobby saw him with a few times already during this past few weeks.

The light turns off on the kettle, and Bobby pours the water in the mug, before making his way towards the ‘living room’ area where he places the tray on the coffee table.

“Wanna talk about it?” Bobby asks as he takes on the seat on the couch.

“It’s just-” Eddie starts but marks a pause, like he’s not sure how to say the next few words. “Just stuff I- I try very hard not to think about. Or just bury- bury somewhere in my brain but-”

“It keeps coming back?” Bobby offers and smiles when Eddie just nods quietly as he takes a sip of his herbal tea. “Does it have anything to do with your panic attacks?”

Eddie’s mouth turns up at the edges but he presses his lips together in a straight line just as fast.

“How do you know about them?” Eddie asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I have my ways.” Bobby answers with a hint of amusement.

“Let me guess.” Eddie starts. “Buck?” And even though the words come out as a question, Bobby knows there’s no real need to answer. He still nods though, and smiles when Eddie rolls his eyes with a fond expression. “They were because of Ana.”

“The panic attacks?” Bobby asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “Were?” He adds. “You don’t have them anymore?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head. “We broke up.” He adds. “I was trying to make it work for Christopher’s sake. Thought he loved her. And he liked her okay but turns out he was only going along with it because he thought she made me happy.” Eddie tells him, a sad laugh escaping his lips.

“And she didn’t?” Bobby encourages him. “Make you happy, that is.”

Eddie opens his mouth like he wants to say something but stops himself from doing so the next second. There’s a small silence after that. Eddie’s eyes are staring into space, his forehead wrinkled in concern, like he’s hopping that if he thinks about it long enough, an answer is going to magically appear in front of him.

“It was nice.” He starts and Bobby raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “It just wasn’t working.” Eddie adds. “Couldn’t have worked.” He precises. “Not when I-” He marks a pause again, and closes his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index. “I guess my heart just wasn’t in it.”

Bobby says nothing for a while. He just smiles. Because he knows where Eddie drives at. It’s been a long time coming, after all. All the looks, the soft glances, the sweet gestures. All the signs were there, and they were clear. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that what these two shared went beyond friendship.

“Have you talked to Buck about it, Eddie?” Bobby asks, his voice gentle.

Eddie flushes, and looks away. Because Bobby’s not only asking him if he talked to Buck about his break-up with Ana. No, in fact he’s asking a lot more than just that. And Eddie knows it. He’s just not sure he’s ready to go there.

“I... I did.” Eddie says, and closes his eyes again. “I mean I- I told him about Ana but I think he knows that… That it’s not only about the break up.” He adds. “It’s never been only about the break up, Bobby.” He admits. “It’s never been only about Ana.”

“I know.” Bobby smiles.

“He broke up with Taylor.” Eddie blurts out and Bobby’s not one to gossip about other people’s relationship because, ultimately, that’s their business and he’d hate to interfere with any of that. But as he sits there on that couch, watching Eddie, there’s only one thing that comes to his mind.

Freaking finally.

“So the ball’s in your court now, isn’t it?” Bobby asks.

“I guess it is, yeah.” Eddie answers, darting his eyes towards him before looking away just as fast. “And you know I was- I was waiting for the right time but…”

Bobby’s mouth turns up at the edges once again.

“I’m just so freaking tired of waiting, Cap.” Eddie finally says, and one of these rare soft smiles only reserved to Buck breaks in on his face. “I- I want this. Us.”

“I think everyone’s tired of waiting, Eddie.” Bobby remarks with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Tell him.” He adds. “After all we both know how he’s gonna react.”

“It’s- it’s gonna be good, right?” Eddie asks, his voice uncertain, a part of him still doubting. Bobby rolls his eyes and lets out a small laugh.

“Eddie, it’s Buck.” He reminds him. “He’s gonna be like a kid on Christmas morning.” He adds. “That boy loves you two to the moon and back.”

And, as if summoned, Buck chooses this moment to appear on top of the stairs, his eyes sleepy and his hair disheveled making his blond curls go in every direction. Bobby watches him as he shuffles towards them, and doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up when they fall on Eddie.

“Hey Eds.” He says, his voice soft, taking a seat on the arm of the chair Eddie's seated on. “You okay? I woke up and you- well you weren’t on your bunk.”

Bobby gives Eddie a knowing look and stands up, retreating back in his office once again, only this time he makes sure to lock the door behind him. He can still hear the muffled words coming from the living-room but nothing he can actually make sense of.

He lets his back rest on the backrest of his chair and goes back to his reading. It’s almost five in the morning now, and Bobby doesn’t see the appeal of trying to get a few hours sleep, especially now that they’ve been unbothered by any calls for a bit more than two hours. It’s certainly not going to last forever.

He finds himself so engrossed in his reading that the next thing he knows, a bit more than half an hour has passed and the kitchen is now dead quiet. The first sunbeams light up the fire station and Bobby decides that now is as good a time as any to start on breakfast.

Only, what he sees when he goes back inside the kitchen makes him stop in his tracks and smiles. Because there they are passed out on the couch, their legs intertwined and Eddie’s head pressed on the other’s chest while Buck has wrapped his left arm around Eddie’s waist while his right hand is buried in his black hair.

“Oh god.” He can hear Hen say from the top of the stairs. “Is this really happening?” She asks and Bobby only chuckles while shaking his head in disbelief.

“I guess it is.” He says.

“Holy shit.” This time, it’s Chimney’s turn to curse. “I’m calling Maddie.” He adds.

“Chim, it’s 5am.” Hen remarks.

“Oh trust me if I wait any longer I think she’ll punch me.”

“I’m taking a picture for the group-chat.” Ravi intervenes behind Chimney and Bobby only watches them from the kitchen with an amused smile.

“Guys come on, let them sleep for a while okay? They deserve it.”

“We’re not sleeping.” Buck’s voice comes from behind the couch. Bobby can’t see him but he can only picture the exasperated expression on his face.

“Not anymore.” Eddie adds.

Bobby rolls his eyes and turns his back on them to face the oven while chaos suddenly erupts in the fire station.

With a sigh and an amused smile, he starts on breakfast.

[witchersjaskier]

Jaskier who is practically immortal because his soul is always reincarnated whenever he dies. This was supposed to be a curse placed on by a wild mage but obviously Jaskier doesnt consider it that because know he can live on forever with his Witcher ^-^. (Sorry its messy but its 5am and I just saw your post thingy and love your writing so I'm grabbing the post with both my greedy hands and not letting go. ^-^)

The unseen issue of the curse, that the sorcerer probably failed to take into consideration, is that Jaskier doesn’t have to be reborn as a human. There are no rules saying that he has to be a human or even if there were, there are many ways to become immortal.

Jaskier is sometimes hit by those musings when Geralt takes a particularly long time remembering. It’s annoying and always leaves Jaskier exhausted.

He truly loves his gentle giant but Geralt could always be a bit of an asshole and being a Witcher only made it worse. He tries to be understanding, of course, he knows exactly what the boys go through with the trials (that life left many mental scars on him). Still, sometimes it’s hard to withstand all of that with his memories of countless lives spent loving each other.

Jaskier sighs quietly and watches as his love brushes Roach down, noticing the gentle smile on his face, how Geralt’s shoulders are much more relaxed now. He chooses to play an old song of his, from another life, from before the Conjunction, from one of the nights spent in Geralt’s arms.

It makes the Witcher pause for some reason, when before he never recognized any of Jaskier’s songs. He doesn’t stop playing, however, aware that sometimes memories take time.

When the sorcerer cursed him, Jaskier imagines that the point was to make him suffer through countless lives, but the real curse is waiting for Geralt to remember. Still, it’s a small price to pay for literal eternity with his love.

“What’s that song?” the Witcher suddenly asks, turning to look at Jaskier with those gorgeous eyes of his.

Only now Jaskier can understand why Geralt mourned his blue eyes when he lost them to the Trials. Geralt’s eyes are gorgeous, of course, but Jaskier finds himself missing his original blue-green ones. He still loves them though.

“Oh, an old one of mine, not very popular I'm afraid,” Jaskier says playfully. “I don’t play it much, people tend to think I’m making a spell or sometimes. It’s a bit too complicated for the simple folk.”

Even when he made it, back when there used to be a black crown on his head, Jaskier only played it for Geralt and their daughter. He will only ever play it for them.

“Hmm,” comes the response from his big oaf and Jaskier doesn’t hide his smile.

He plays another one, the one he composed for their wedding when Geralt was becoming his Prince Consort and the whole kingdom cried their names. This time, the Witcher sits down and closes his eyes, getting lost in music and Jaskier can almost see him, dressed in royal blue, walking down the aisle in a cape, the most beautiful sight in the universe.

Jaskier’s voice doesn’t shake but just barely, and he plays two more songs before he can’t take it anymore. He sends Geralt a wobbly smile and escapes to the forest, pausing only when he reaches a small river. He gets in, clothes and all and lets the water carry him for a second, calming the fire burning inside of him.

With every cycle, it’s harder and harder to keep going, to stay strong while the love of his countless lives doesn’t remember him. Jaskier tries to be strong but still he cries, his tears mixing with water, sobs shaking his body.

He stays like that for a long while, until the fire in his chest goes down somehow and he can finally focus on this outside of his own pain. That’s when Jaskier hears his darling Witcher running to him.

Immediately, the bard sits up and unsheathes his long claws, senses picking up but Geralt just enters  the small clearing,. Hair messy and eyes wild. They focus on Jaskier immediately and his Witcher lets out a sound of pure relief, unlike anything Jaskier heard of him in this life.

:Jaskier,” Geralt manages to say. It’s different now, somehow, more tender, more desperate, more like…

Jaskier’s head snaps up just as Geralt crosses the distance between them and pulls him into the Witcher’s arms, Geralt’s head hidden in his neck, Jaskier’s clawed hand tangled in his hair.

“Geralt?”

He doesn’t dare to hope but the Witcher is now shaking in his arms and he feels just like he did when they last said their goodbyes, holding each other on the bed as time claimed them.

“I love you,” comes the response. “Love you so much, Jask, I’m sorry-”

He just can’t listen to this anymore, so Jaskier pulls on Geralt’s hair and then kisses him hungrily and oh, it’s like always, slow and passionate and full of pain and the most incredible kiss in all of Jaskier’s lives.

They’re always like that.

“I love you too, dear heart,” he replies through the tears, staring Geralt in the eyes. With his thumb, he gently wipes the tears from his Witcher’s face. “I’m so so happy to see you again.”

“Husband,” is all Geralt replies. “My husband in red.”

Jaskier laughs.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

I am looking forward to reading the continuation of the alternative ending of satisfied! Can’t wait! 😜

Happy Easter lmao here’s your monthly dose of depression ig

Though this one is slightly more lighthearted than usual

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@solangelo252

The life of a captive of Bruce Wayne was surprisingly posh.

Maybe her standards were just really low because the last place she’d been held had been a lab where fear gas was tested on her almost daily(? her concept of time was fuzzy)... or maybe the Waynes just knew how to treat a kidnapee. Who knew.

But, hey, she’d been given a phone!

It was hacked, of course. Anything on the internet that even vaguely mentioned Bruce Wayne, the bats, or the Rogues was impossible to access. This had been a little annoying, but not necessarily unexpected. She was more surprised that they were giving her a phone at all.

She sat on the end of the bed, legs swinging like a toddler’s as she looked through twitter.

Gotham twitter just wasn’t the same, though. Where were the people joking about how they’d been praying for a Scarecrow attack so they wouldn’t have to take their finals? The underpaid cafe workers talking about how Batman had come in at 5am for coffee to get through the last leg of patrols and they had to turn him down because they weren’t open yet? Even the usual jokes about the Next Wayne(TM) were hidden from her! No, the internet almost seemed empty.

This left her with very few things to do. It wasn’t like she could request people to talk to her -- not that she’d wanted to, she didn’t want to bother them -- so… she was pretty much always working out or sleeping.

Working out was nice. She hadn’t been allowed to do it much while with Harley and it felt weird to be so out of shape. Who knew it could happen so fast? Certainly not her, and she was going to rectify her newfound lack of athletic ability. Dick even came by daily to help, so she was quickly getting back into the swing of things.

But as for sleeping...

Kwami, she missed caffeine.

Her subconscious was apparently determined to torture her.

(She supposed someone had to do it, since Joker hadn’t followed through on his intentions.)

Most dreams were haunted with memories of the stupid fear gas-induced hallucinations. The bats, now accompanied by Harley, would tell her exactly how much of a screw up she was. They’d give her disgusted looks and admit that they regretted ever talking to her or taking her in. And then they’d leave her, alone, surrounded by the corpses of she hadn’t been able to help.

She’d wake up crying and alone. She’d put on a random podcast and then wrap herself up in her blankets to try and trick her mind into thinking someone was with her.

And, when it wasn’t that dream, she found herself drowning in acid again. For such a short part of a series of unfortunate events, it sure did have an effect on her. She’d scream as the acid touched her skin, burned her lungs, tried to seep into her ear canals… and then she’d get pulled out to look at Joker’s smug face and she’d almost want to be pushed back under because she hated to see him looking so satisfied.

Those ones hurt. She’d wake up, her throat screamed raw, her lungs aching. Even hours later, she’d find herself running her hands over every bit of exposed skin to try and get rid of the feeling of the acid gnawing away at her.

The worst dreams, though, were the ones where she’d be visited by Bruce. Everything would go to plan. She’d stab him in the jugular and then pull the pen out, watching as blood spurted from the wound. He’d fall to the ground at her feet, unable to speak above the blood gurgling in his throat, and she’d just watch him. He didn’t even look betrayed, he just looked… he looked like he accepted it, like he accepted her and what she’d done and that he still cared for her after all that she’d done.

And then she’d wake up, but she never really felt awake when those dreams came. She felt like she was still half asleep, her body more limp than Bruce’s had been at the end of her dream, and any emotion she should have seemed impossible.

She hated the numb. At least she could do something with the screaming and the crying, at least she could bring herself down from those. How do you bring yourself down when you aren’t up in the first place?

But, maybe it was a good thing she was numb. It boded well for her. At least she wouldn’t be hurting if -- WHEN -- she managed to do it for real.

~

She turned off her phone, disappointed as always by how little content interested her, and almost cringed when she caught her appearance in the black screen.

Her skin was bleached from her time in the chemicals. The blood vessels under her eyes had burst when she’d been forced to go without coffee for too long. One of her cheeks were sucked in seemingly permanently from how often she’d been biting it. Her lips were stained cherry-red and stretched thinner than she remembered. Where her ears should have been were large holes in the sides of her head...

But nevermind that! The door slid open with a metallic hiss.

She didn’t know why she’d hoped it would be Bruce, she’d known perfectly well that that wouldn’t be happening for quite some time -- if ever -- but there she was, hoping it would be him. That this would end quickly.

Nope.

She looked up at Cass and Duke and her heart twinged painfully when she saw them.

She had missed them. So much.

(She’d almost been disappointed when she’d found out that they wouldn’t be home when she was going to try and kill Bruce, but then again she wanted them to continue liking her so maybe it was for the best she didn’t attempt to kill their father right in front of them...)

It was nice to see them again. Honestly, she’d missed them more than anyone else. They were her favorites.

(She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about that. They were pretty much everyone’s favorites.)

She practically threw herself into Duke’s arms. He laughed and, though he struggled a little, he managed to catch her. She buried her face in his chest.

“Wow. I see how it is,” Cass said, but Marinette could hear the smile in her voice so she didn’t bother pulling away. Instead, she reached an arm in the direction of her voice and, once she’d managed to catch the sleeve of her shirt, dragged her into the hug.

The three Diversity Adoptees stayed like that for a long time.

And then she pulled back. “You guys better not have gone ahead in the show without me.”

Duke’s face twitched into a frown momentarily before he smiled again, ruffling her hair. “We didn’t. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a scout?”

He snorted. “God no.”

“Then --?”

“Shhhhhh,” he said, using the hand already in her hair to pull her into a noogie.

“Fuck offfffff,” she whined, trying to peel his knuckles away from her scalp.

Cass pulled her away from Duke. Strong arms wrapped her in a new hug and she blinked before returning it.

“Little sister. Leave her alone,” said Cass.

Marinette shot him a nasty grin from between her arms and Duke sputtered. “But I --.”

“Little sister,” she said again, like that explained anything. Maybe it did. Marinette didn’t particularly care because Cass was smoothing out her hair and it really did feel much better than the noogie she’d been getting…

She closed her eyes and leaned into her, relaxing.

Or, at least, she’d tried to relax. Until Duke sighed dramatically and said “Oh well, I guess I have five months of episodes to go through alone…”

“Wait --!”

~

She barely managed to lift her head up when she heard the door slide open, and then she bolted upright when she saw who it was.

Jason.

Her hand slid into her pocket, to the pen resting there, and she slowly pulled off the cap.

No. She couldn’t do that. If she tried to kill him then her pen would be confiscated and she couldn’t even imagine being able to kill Bruce with her bare hands.

(Granted, she didn’t really think she had a good chance of killing him with a pen -- it was a PEN -- but it the chances were more than 0% so it was overall way better than just trying to choke him out or something.)

She closed the pen and settled for glaring at him.

This fucker was the reason that she was there in the first place, and he hadn’t even given her an honorable battle that would have felt satisfying, what a --!

He held out a cup of coffee as a peace offering.

What an amazing person. Literally an angel. She loved him. Her favorite member of the batfamily.

If she’d had any less pride, she would have ran to get the coffee. As it was, she still speedwalked to take it off his hands.

The moment the drink touched her tongue, tension she hadn’t even noticed seemed to dissipate. The calm was quickly taken over by desperation, though. She had to fight herself not to chug it down.

(She also had to fight a wave of nausea, her body was not at all used to taking in any food or drinks anymore, but damn it she was going to get this coffee down if it killed her... again.)

Even with her super amazing self-restraint, the drink was gone within seconds. She swirled the remaining dregs, considering the pros and cons of trying to drink it because she remembered someone telling her that the last sip of drinks are always backwash…

But it was backwash that might have had caffeine in it, so she drank it.

She smiled brightly at him. Kwami, she’d missed caffeine so much. The only person who had given her coffee was Riddler the few times he had come to visit. Apparently Harley didn’t approve of it, though, because he had only brought her coffee three times before he’d suddenly stopped appearing.

�� she hoped Riddler was still alive. She’d liked Riddler.

But she knew that asking about any of the Rogues would make the bats think that she wasn’t ‘healing’ up properly. So, instead of asking about him, she said “You know, B is gonna kill you for giving me coffee. I just got unaddicted.”

Jason groaned. “Great. Thanks for telling me AFTER you drank it all.”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you take it away from me,” she chirped.

He rolled his eyes. “Rude. Fine, I guess you won’t be addicted since it was only one cup. Can’t get in much trouble if I don’t give you more.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait --.”

“Yeah. I’d really prefer if the bats weren’t annoyed at me, so I guess that’s all you’re going to be getting.”

“Jay, wait, I didn’t mean it --.”

“Oh well,” he sighed. He brought a hand to his forehead like he was feeling faint. “If only I had an amazing little sister who would give me a hug --.”

She was wrapped around him before he’d even finished his sentence. Sure, it was blatant manipulation, but there was no way in hell that she was losing her one chance at caffeine.

(Besides, it was a hug. Hugs were nice.)

She’d spent the rest of the day with him, exchanging jokes about death.

The others didn’t really like them. Even Dick, who always liked a good pun, would only get sad when she joked about how she wasn’t alive anymore.

Jason, though… Jason understood.

And his death had been years ago. So he had a lot more jokes than she did.

“Ohohoh one time someone tried to flirt with me by saying they were a necrophiliac and I said ‘deadass?’ and…” He snickered. “And they said ‘yeah, exactly’.”

She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “Oh my kwami, really?”

“I’m dead serious.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’d say they were going to hell, but they’d probably like it there.”

He laughed a little, shaking his head.

“It’s nice having someone to make jokes with. Damian doesn’t like joking about it.”

“I know. He’s always all…” He screwed up his face and raised his voice to a whine “‘It is not a joking matter, Todd’.”

She gasped. “It’s almost like he’s here with us.”

“Uncanny, right?”

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax.

“... I missed you. We all did,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Not really. She ended up just giving a tiny laugh and shrugging her shoulders.

His phone beeped in his pocket and she heard him shift to check it. He groaned. “Sorry, kid, I’ve got patrols.”

She nodded slightly and fell back on the bed with a yawn. “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

There was a beat.

She cracked her eyes open to see him considering the idea.

“Please?” She tried.

Another beat.

He broke into a grin. “You just want more coffee.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, not even a little sheepish. “But I don’t mind the fact that you’re coming either.”

“I feel so loved.”

“You are,” she said, with a little pout thrown in for good measure.

He ended up agreeing to bring her coffee daily. She smirked after him. He wasn’t the only one that could manipulate people for things he wants.

Her smirk dropped the moment her hand slipped into her pockets and she realized he’d taken the pen from her when she’d given him a hug.

Bastard.

~

Her eyes flicked past her visitor briefly and she was met with a nondescript, white wall. She was pretty sure that this wasn’t Wayne manor, with it’s dark reds and browns, but she was almost willing to ignore that logic so she could believe that it was. At least if it was Wayne manor she might have been able to guess her coordinates by making portals appear in rooms at random until she found it. But if she was just… in a place then how was she supposed to ever get out?

She didn’t let this show on her face, because of all of them Dick was the most emotionally intelligent and would definitely notice. Instead, she beamed at him.

“Ready for our workout session?”

It was kinda weird, because it was so much like their old routine. They would stretch and talk and practice new moves… but it didn’t feel at all the same. Before everything had happened they had talked about meaningful things; list off their emotions and talk shit about the other bats (they loved them, sure, but they were a handful).

Now, though, neither of them were actually talking much. There was very little going on in her life, so she didn’t know what to say and he… he seemed to think she was weak or something, like she couldn’t take it. One time he’d almost slipped up and told her about how Tim was worrying him because he was getting borderline obsessive and then, when she’d politely pressed for more, he’d clammed up and told her that she didn’t need to worry about that.

She kind of didn’t like the sessions with Dick. They felt wrong.

But she really missed him and his octopus hugs that she could melt into. So she never told him and they kept doing them.

“Jason gave you coffee,” said Dick instead of greeting her.

“... I managed to do a triple backflip!”

He raised his eyebrows at her and she chose to interpret this as him being disbelieving of her ability to do a triple backflip from the ground (which was fair, she’d taken ages to manage it even once and she had nothing but free time) and not him noticing her feeble attempt at changing the subject.

“I did! Look!”

She tried and landed flat on her face. She could hear his strained breathing as he tried his hardest not to laugh. She wished the floor would just swallow her whole.

At least he wasn’t concerned about the coffee thing anymore?

He took a seat in front of her and she slowly raised her head to look at him despite the fact that she very much wanted to burrow into the floor and never emerge ever again.

“We have footage of it, so I’ve seen it, don’t worry. Tim was pretty proud of you so he showed everyone… and I’m proud of you, too, obviously. That took me years.”

She smiled brightly. Tim was apparently proud of her. She didn’t see much of him, so it was kind of nice to know that he was watching over her... even if it was a little creepy that there were people watching her pretty much every moment of every day to make sure she didn’t escape or kill herself.

“Seriously, though, I’m not letting Jason back if he keeps bringing you coffee.”

The smile on her face dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek. Part of her was kind of mad that Jason had taken the pen from her -- really, she should have figured out that that was what was going on, though, he was never the most cuddly -- and the other part was desperate for coffee.

The coffee addiction won out.

“But…” She sniffled a little and pulled tears to her eyes. She tried not to think about how easily they came. “But I need…”

Dick groaned quietly and she felt arms hook under hers and pull her into a hug.

“This isn’t going to work.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and let the tears fall.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t. Please.”

Ah. That was a little more genuinely vulnerable than she’d intended on being.

But, hey, it was working. She heard Dick’s breath catch at the admission.

“Why not?” He said softly, running a hand up and down her back.

Why he even bothered to ask, she didn’t know. The bats knew about her nightmares. They knew about everything she did, why would they stop when she fell asleep? But she hadn’t mentioned it up until that point and they hadn’t brought it up either.

Still, she mumbled “Nightmares.” She hesitated only slightly before adding that it was “Ironic that NightMare has nightmares, but...”

Dick gave a laugh and she felt herself smile at the sound. He always did like bad puns. Her smile dropped a little when he told her “You still need sleep.”

She laughed bitterly. “It’s not like I’m getting much of it when I wake up every ten minutes anyways.”

He sighed and she felt his head rest on top of hers. “I guess one cup a day isn’t that bad…”

She gave a halfhearted cheer.

“Would you like to talk about your dreams? Sometimes that helps...”

She didn’t even hesitate to shake her head no. She did, however, hesitate to pull away from the hug. She liked Dick’s hugs far more than she’d ever admit, and ever since she’d come back she’d liked them even more. He was just about the right size and just squishy enough for her to pretend she was getting a hug from Harley.

But, eventually, she managed to pull herself together and she pushed him off as gently as she could.

“Ready to workout?”

Dick was wearing a particularly sad look that she decided didn’t look right on his face.

But then he brought a smile to his face and nodded. “Bet you I’m still more flexible.”

“Probably, but don’t get used to it. Your days as the world’s best gymnast are numbered.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

~

 Damian.

She blinked at him. She really hadn’t expected him to… come by at all, honestly. Sure, they’d been getting along better than they’d used to and they were partners before she’d disappeared, but they weren’t partners anymore. He had no reason to come talk to her.

She smiled at him nonetheless. Company was company, and she wasn’t about to be picky when she was locked in a room for the foreseeable future.

“Dami!” She said brightly, crossing her legs criss-cross applesauce and then -- after thinking about it for a moment -- smoothed her dress out to make sure everything was hidden. (Damian was only a few months younger than her, she knew that logically, but some dumb part of her kept saying ‘child’.)

He regarded her for a moment before taking a seat beside her.

“Marinette,” he greeted carefully.

“Are you here for something?” She asked.

He hesitated, just slightly, and then nodded.

Ah. She wasn’t sure how she could be of help, compromised as she was, but she was certainly ready to try.

“I would like to know about my miraculous. Plagg has been… behaving oddly recently.”

Her smile slipped off her face at that. “Oddly how?” She said, eyeing his pockets like she believed the kwami would pop out at any moment and show her himself (which, granted, was entirely possible, but apparently not going to happen).

“He’s been more energetic. Less hungry. It doesn’t make sense.”

She thought about this for a few minutes, resting her head on her hand. Damian was right, that didn’t make sense… if anything, Plagg had been getting more laidback and mellow as time has stretched on...

Unless…

“Have you been using him?”

“... no. Is he just hyper from not being used, then?”

She stared at him, her head tipping to the side slightly as she considered him. Why wasn’t he using the miraculous? She would understand if it was a tactical decision to keep Catw -- was she called something else now that she was using the ladybug miraculous? -- Selina from using the miraculous as often, but it seemed he didn’t really know about that… so why…?

She pushed the thought from her mind. Maybe Damian just didn’t like the smell of Camambert. She wouldn’t blame him.

“It’s a balance thing. If the ladybug is used without the cat, the ladybug gets weaker and the cat gets stronger. Opposite thing happens when you use the cat without the ladybug. They’re meant to be used as a pair.” She clicked her tongue. “It probably doesn’t help that you’re on different sides.”

He nodded his understanding.

There was a beat as they just stood there (well, technically they were sitting, but whatever). She was kind of wondering why he was still there when he apparently didn’t need anything else from her, but what was she going to do? Tell him to leave? No. She was kind of desperate for the company of someone that wasn’t Jason or Dick (Cass and Duke only came by weekly so she didn’t mind them as much… also, they were Cass and Duke, so...).

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Drake has informed me of your state.”

“I’m dead, yeah,” she confirmed.

He winced and his eyes fell to his lap. “I have also died before, if you would like to talk about it.”

She stared at him. She really hadn’t taken him for the kind of person who would offer moral support…

She pulled a smile to her face and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. Her smile became a little more real as she watched him scowl and wipe away the kiss.

“Thanks for the offer, Dami, but I’m fine.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Really. I’ll tell you guys as much as I need to for you to believe it: nothing much happened while I was there. Honestly, it was more boring than scary. So relax, I’m fine. I’ll live.”

And then, because she couldn’t help it, she added: “Well, that ship sailed long ago, but you know what I mean.”

He clicked his tongue. “Now I have to deal with terrible death jokes from you AND Todd? I wish I were dead.”

“You wish you were STILL dead, you mean?” She teased, reaching out to pinch his cheeks and breaking out into laughter when he swatted her hands away.

He rolled his eyes at her and then, with a short ‘Goodbye’, he left. She watched him leave, and the smile slid from her face in time with the door sliding shut behind him.

She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t get why people were so concerned about her. They’d faced worse. Hell, even SHE’D faced worse. Why were they making such a big deal about it?

Nothing had happened! Did they believe her when she told them that? She’d had no reason to lie, and she hadn’t been lying... and even if they’d thought she had they had Cass to prove she wasn’t. Hell, that was probably why Cass had come by at all, to check on her mental state! So why were they all so worried? They should know it was fine!

And even if she wasn’t fine (which she was!) it wasn’t like she didn’t have the same training as them. She could spot the victim questions from a mile away and she could even ask them to herself. She knew the answers, and she knew which ones she should be avoiding because she knew that they sounded way worse than they actually were.

Some vague part of her whispered that if anything sounded at all bad to the victim questions then she was, in fact, a victim. She buried her face in her pillow and gave a strangled scream of frustration. Now she had their stupid voices in her head telling her something was wrong, too.

~

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she heard the door slide open. Partially because she was kind of addicted to Geometry Dash and she wouldn’t win if she was looking up and partially because she could smell coffee so she knew who it was anyways.

“Thank fuck you’re here, Jay, I was --.”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to wait a little longer for him, bean.”

Her eyes snapped to the door and her little box thingy on her screen died but she could hardly bring herself to care.

Tim!

Her face lit up. She hadn’t seen him in a while and she had really been missing him. Also, she noted vaguely, he was apparently healed from all of his injuries. Nice!

Except, as she scrutinized his face, she noticed he looked even more tired than usual. His skin was deathly pale, the bags under his eyes made him look like a raccoon, his hair hung limply around his face…

“Damn, and I thought I looked dead on my feet,” she teased softly to hide her concern.

He managed a smile and she waved him over to lay down with her. He hesitated before coming to sit beside her on the bed.

“When’s the last time you got some proper sleep?” She asked, tugging on the sleeve of his turtleneck to try and get him to lay down and cuddle with her. If she could get him to he might accidentally drift off.

He must have known what she was trying, because he resisted her attempts. “I’m fine. It’s been a while, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. What’s wrong?”

He stared at her confusedly.

“You only get this bad when something is going on. What is it?”

He just kept staring at her and she shifted awkwardly.

“... bean…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s you. I’m worried about you.”

She groaned. “Not you, too.”

“Obviously I’m --.” He cut himself off and then mulled over his words for a bit. He decided on: “I don’t want to keep you here forever. I don’t want you to get ‘better’ because we Stockholm syndrome-ed you. Or re-Stockholm syndrome-ed you, since Harley already did it.”

“She didn’t --,” Marinette started, but she gave up on that. She knew they all didn’t understand it and arguing would probably only solidify their belief that Harley had messed her up in some way. Instead, she settled to address the rest of the statement:  “I mean… I already liked you all beforehand so… it’s not like caring about you would be exactly NEW...”

“It’s still wrong.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “It’s not like you have any other options. I’d probably be doing the same thing if everything was reversed.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” said Tim with a tiny shake of his head.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the frown off of her face. “Then I don’t know what you want from me, Tim.”

He sighed. “I want you to get better.”

“Hard to do when I’m already fine.”

“But you’re not! You’re literally dead! How is that at all fine?!”

She rolled her eyes. She was getting a headache, though she wasn’t sure whether or not it was because of caffeine withdrawal (she was pretty sure Jason was supposed to have come in a few hours ago) or annoyance at repeating herself so many times. She pressed her cold hand to her forehead to try and alleviate it somewhat.

“It’s not even that bad, honestly. I can still drink coffee and sleep and that’s all I really care about. I can even feel pain! It’s pretty much the same except I don’t have to go to the bathroom and I can’t change clothes!”

Tim stared at her for a few moments before slamming his palm against his forehead. “That’s what it is!”

“Huh?”

“I thought something was weird about you being dead,” he explained, though it didn’t really explain anything. “Give me a minute, I’ll be back.”

She watched him practically run out the door and frowned confusedly. Sure, it was a little weird that she could still do most stuff, but that didn’t really warrant getting up in such a rush. Maybe the dead thing creeped him out more than he let on and he needed a breather?

So she picked up her phone and started playing Geometry Dash again while she waited for him to come back.

About an hour later she heard the door slide open and she raised her eyebrows at the sight of Tim holding a thermos and a plastic tray of food from Red Robin (the restaurant; anything he cooked was straight poison and if she tried it she might just die for real).

She watched him sit down with them. “You hungry?”

He shook his head and shoved them towards her. “They’re for you.”

Her confusion only seemed to grow.

“Sweetie, I don’t eat,” she reminded him, though she did take the thermos in case… nice! Coffee!

“Except you can if you want to, which is weird, right?”

She shrugged a little, not bothering to tear her lips away from her drink to give him a proper ‘I guess’.

“But where’s it going? Because you don’t go to the bathroom so it has to be used up in some way otherwise you would have probably exploded by now.”

She finished the drink and then set down the empty thermos beside herself. “Magic, probably…”

“Maybe,” he gave her, but that didn’t seem to put him out. “But then there’s the pain thing. Sure, it’s muted, but it’s definitely still there. Why should a dead person feel pain?”

“Because I’m not fully dead…?”

“Exactly!”

She shrugged again. “I really don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“What if you just need food or something to come back? Because you clearly had a headache, and it seems like it’s caffeine-related because you’ve relaxed a little since you had your coffee, which means we know that your digestive, nervous, and circulatory system are still working on some level...”

She stared at the food he’d given her.

“You think that if I eat enough I can come back.”

He nodded. “I know it’s a longshot, but we should at least try it, right?”

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Twenty Three

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: fluff, angst, major character death

Words: 2380

A/N: Here we are, the last chapter! I would just like to thank everyone who has supported me on this whirlwind of a journey, I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have! There will be a sequel probs in a months time about Y/N and Sirius’ daughter which will be another reader insert so I might have to give her a name otherwise there will be loads of Y/N’s running all over the place! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the sequel! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Twenty Three

Sirius sighed out in immense relief as the powerful jet of scalding hot water soothed his aching muscles, he hissed through gritted teeth as the water pounded against his bruised skin. He was exhausted, his eyes ached and they were bloodshot but try as he might, sleep wasn’t coming easily. Sirius had arrived home at about 5am after being on duty all night for The Order of the Phoenix. The Order was a secret society that had been formed by Dumbledore to fight off Voldemort and some people – including Y/N – had given up their usual job to work for The Order.

Sirius had slept for about two hours, drifting in and out of fitful dreams – sleep was much harder to come by these days with everything going on in the world – and he had awoken around 7:30am when Y/N got up with their daughter. He had contented resting his eyes for a few hours but he hadn’t slept. He sighed as he reluctantly shut off the water and got out, wrapping himself in a fluffy towel before he got dressed and padded down the stairs.

He grinned as he admired the Halloween decorations that Y/N had put up to bring some season’s cheer into the house. Halloween had always been Sirius’ favourite time of year but he felt like something big was going to happen this year, he just couldn’t place his finger on it. Y/N smiled up at him as he joined her in the living room – their daughter was happily playing and babbling by herself in the middle of the floor.

Y/N snuggled contently into his chest as he wrapped an arm around her and he kissed the top of her head, “you look exhausted baby. Was it a hard night?” she asked, pulling back to look at him, worry etched into her features.

Sirius smiled as he pressed his lips against her forehead, “nah, it was all fine, just some superficial things. What’s on the agenda for today then?”

“Well, my mum and dad are coming over tonight but until then, nothing,” she laughed, “I mean what can we do when it’s hardly safe to leave our house?” Sirius nodded in reply, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as his mind wandered, “what? What’s the matter?” Y/N asked.

Sirius sighed as he rubbed his hand against his jaw, his eyebrows knitting together, “I don’t know why, maybe it’s because we haven’t heard from Peter in a while and I’m worried about him. But, I’ve got the feeling that something bad is going to happen. I can’t really explain it, it’s just a feeling. When your parents get here I’m going to check on James and Lily.”

Y/N didn’t look at him like he was crazy, instead it looked like she understood and she nodded distractedly as she gazed out of the window, “I know,” she whispered, “I know because I have the same feeling, I’ll go with you.”

Sirius appreciated the offer but he couldn’t worry about Y/N too, he could very well be walking to his death, “no sweetheart, thank you but I can’t worry about you too,” he sighed as he cupped her jaw.

Y/N frowned, a look of hurt flickering across her face that made Sirius’ heart constrict but she nodded all the same, knowing it was useless to argue, “okay but you have to be careful.”

That evening, Sirius kissed his daughter goodbye and Y/N’s fingers clutched at his leather jacket as she kissed him passionately, “come back to me Sirius, promise me. I love you.”

Sirius smiled, hoping it would disguise the fear that he felt, “I will, I promise. I love you too Y/N,” with one last lingering kiss and longing look he took off into the night clenching the wand in his pocket.

As soon as he rounded the corner time seemed to stand still as he heard an awful anguished cry, like some sort of wounded animal and he knew that he was too late, as Sirius approached he saw that it was Hagrid. Hagrid was sobbing with a tiny bundle in his arms. Sirius looked behind Hagrid and saw with sorrow that the Potter’s cottage had been destroyed. So many happy memories and promises of the future were gone, lost forever.

“James and Lily are dead, ‘e killed ‘em,” Hagrid sniffled, looking at Sirius with watery black eyes, “’e couldn’t kill Harry, ‘e couldn’t.”

At Hagrid’s words, Sirius’ knees almost buckled as a terrible sadness washed over him as the breath was stolen from his lungs. His best friends were dead, they couldn’t be, they were only twenty one. He couldn’t imagine why someone would betray him, Peter was the Secret Keeper but it couldn’t be Peter. Peter couldn’t have betrayed them. But, as Sirius looked at the ruined cottage, he knew that Hagrid spoke the truth. Choking on his tears, Sirius held out his arms.

“Give Harry to me Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I can keep him sage,” he looked down at the tiny baby with the split open head and felt an almost overwhelming rush of love for him. He had to protect Harry, with his life if it came to that.

Hagrid however shook his head, “I need to take him to his relatives, Dumbledore’s orders. Harry could still be in danger.”

Panic washed over Sirius, he couldn’t let Dumbledore take him away, “no! He can’t, he,” he trailed off as he choked on a sob. He hated it but he also knew that Dumbledore always got his way, no matter what the cost. But even Sirius had to admit that Harry could still be in danger for Death Eater’s so he couldn’t stay.

“Take my motorbike, it’ll be safer,” Sirius had charmed his motorbike to fly a couple of years back, “can I say goodbye to him?” he sniffled.

Hagrid looked at him warily but he nodded all the same and passed Harry over. Fighting back tears, Sirius looked down at the tiny baby in his arms, the baby who was whimpering and crying, the baby who didn’t know that his parents were dead. He sniffed as he bent down to kiss the top of Harry’s head, whispering into his jet black hair.

“You’re going to be okay Harry, I promise you, and you’re going to grow up to be an amazing wizard. You’re the boy who lived, I love you Harry,” with a heavy heart Sirius passed his godson back to Hagrid, “goodbye Hagrid,” Sirius nodded numbly at him before striding away, anger mixed in with sadness. He was going to find whoever had betrayed them and he was going to make them pay. He was going to kill them.

It was down a dark and crooked alleyway that Sirius cornered a rat – literally – it was the last person that he had expected, someone that he had once called a friend. The coward turned and looked at him with watery beady eyes and he was wheezing heavily, almost like he was in pain. Sirius had never felt so much fury and pain all at once. How could Peter do this? How could Peter be the one who had betrayed them?

Then Sirius saw it, Peter pointed at him with shaking hands and Sirius saw that there was a bloody stump where his first finger had been.

“Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? They were our friends! How could you?” Peter screamed, his face was stark white and he was shaking violently.

Sirius knew what Peter was doing and he held onto his wand that was in his pocket; Peter was trying to get people’s attention. Peter was going to pin this on Sirius, “you can’t blame this on me Peter because this was all you! Tell me why! Tell me why you killed them; your betrayal was their death sentence!” Sirius’ voice was drowned out by the noise of Peter’s screams and shouts. He was going to wake the whole street.

Suddenly, there was a flash so bright and a bang do loud that Sirius had to lose his eyes, when he opened them, Peter was gone and there was a rat scampering down the grid, “no!” Sirius screamed, the only thing that Peter had left behind was his finger. The coward might have faked his own death but Sirius would find him. No matter what corner of the earth that the piece of filth ran to, Sirius would find him.

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

You anxiously bounced your leg as you chewed your nails, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, out of the corner of your eye you saw your parents looking worriedly at each other before back at you. They were worried about you and unfortunately, you knew the feeling, you knew the feeling all too well. Sirius had been gone for about 15 minutes, he only went to check on Lily and James, they only lived down the road, he shouldn’t have taken so long. What if something awful had happened to them? Ever since you had woken up this morning, you couldn’t help feeling that something awful was going to happen.

Five more minutes passed and you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore so you jumped up, startling your parents, “he’s been gone for too long, I need to go to him.”

Your mum let out a little whimper as she cupped your cheeks, she looked scared half to death, “you can’t Y/N, because it’s too dangerous. Sirius wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger.”

“I know, but I have to go to him. I have to see if he’s okay, I love him mum.”

Your mum sighed as she hugged you tight, stroking through your hair, “you’ve always been so brave Y/N,” she bit her lip, “go but be careful. Please be careful, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

You nodded with a tight smile as worry curdled in your stomach before you ran out of the door into the swirling snow. The wind howled as you walked down James and Lily’s street, it was deathly quiet and your blood ran cold with dread. You hardly noticed the ruined little cottage; instead, your attention was focused on Sirius getting roughly shoved away by three men. Tears sprang to your eyes as you realised that they were Ministry Officials.

“Sirius!” you screamed as you ran towards him, trying not to slip in the snow, the Ministry Officials looked startled as one of them put out an arm to stop you, “let me see him! Where are you taking him?” you sobbed but you knew.

“Y/N!” Sirius looked over his shoulder as he was getting shoved along the road, the tear tracks and despair was visible on his face and it broke your heart, “James and Lily are dead! I didn’t do it; I had nothing to do with it! You have to believe me, Y/N please believe me! No matter what you hear! Harry is safe.”

James and Lily were dead, how could they be dead? It couldn’t be true but you noticed the ruined cottage and Sirius looked so heartbroken that you had to believe it, you believed they were dead. You sniffled as tears ran down your cheeks; you thought that you were all going to be together forever.

“I believe you,” you sobbed, the expression on Sirius’ face made you believe him.

“I love you, always will,” he gave you a tight smile but before you could reply he was gone, the Ministry Officials had apparated with him.

You sobbed as you sank to the ground, your knees getting damp with the snow, your heart too much, you could hardly stand it. You just wanted the pain to go away, “I love you too,” you whimpered, “Sirius!” you shouted, “Sirius,” you cried but you knew that it was no use, he was gone, he had disappeared into the swirling snow.

By the next day, the news was out; Sirius had been sent to Azkaban, convicted of betraying the Potters and for killing Peter, along with numerous other Muggles. The newspaper painted him to be a monster but you knew that it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. Sirius would never do anything to hurt James and Lily, or Peter, they were his best friends. There must be some sort of misunderstanding; you believed that he was innocent.

Your parents were amazing, for the first couple of months they had moved themselves into your cottage so they could help out with you and your daughter. They too believed that Sirius was innocent; they saw the expression on your face that night, the night that James and Lily had died. As your daughter grew up, you told your daughter tales of her father, you wouldn’t let her believe that he was guilty of murder. You were going to let her know that he was a hero.

Eleven Years Later

You sighed as the tawny owl flew right in through your kitchen window, dropping the letter on the kitchen counter before flying out of the open window into the warm air. Sniffing, you picked up the letter; this letter just like numerous others had been sent back from Azkaban. Anxiously, you twisted your engagement ring on your finger; you just wanted to let Sirius know that he was going to be okay.

After eleven years it still hurt so much, it hurt that you didn’t have the chance to marry before James and Lily died and it hurt that he couldn’t watch his daughter grow up. All the things he should have been a part of, all those things he had missed.

You heard a squeal coming from upstairs and seconds later you heard the pitter patter of feet on carpet before your daughter ran into the kitchen, waving a letter around, “I got it mum! I got my Hogwarts letter!”

Blinking the tears out of your eyes, you pasted a smile onto your face and you turned around to look at your grinning daughter. She looked so happy, you were glad for this one little bit of good news.

You stroked your fingers through her soft hair, “you’re going to be amazing baby! Your dad would be so proud of you.”

-Fin-

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@approved-by-dentists @thefuturelawyer @a-miserable-hufflepunk @firelordmillie @seriouslysiriuss @sleep-i-ness @play-morezeppelin @pregnant-piggy @sleepingalaska @smiithys @blisfvll @rexorangecouny @findzelda @wangmangagavroche @the-moon-and-the-book​ @hxrgreeves @ghostofstudentspast @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @my-unique-mind @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass @acciovisio @kashishwrites @fific7 @blackbirddaredevil23 @siriusblackspam @mads-bri @lilulo-12fanfiction @mrspadfoot4​ @tinymalscoffee​ @ur-riddikulus​ @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @ourloveisforthelovely​

[writesowhatnext]

you have to give a dog a name // frank castle

Summary: Frank takes a liking to a waitress at a diner – in Hell’s Kitchen it would never be long before the same waitress gets introduced to the Punisher

Request: just something i’d been thinking of for a while tbh

A/N: love Frankie 

Reader: female

Warnings: age difference, violence, assault, swearing, dogs, injuries, guns

part 1 // part 2

Working the night shift at the diner down the street just to earn enough money to survive whilst also trying to get through school was not easy nor ideal. But it wasn’t the worst option. Not by a long shot. Especially not in Hell’s Kitchen, where vigilantes and evil villains ran around like they owned the place. Although, that’s exactly what they did.

You didn’t get what was considered enough sleep; what with half your time spent on night shifts and the other half working hard enough to escape them. So, whilst you stood there, behind the counter, at 4am, you barely noticed the guy in the baseball cap sitting in the booth across the diner. When you did, you fumbled for the coffee jug, dragging it across the counter towards him. He’d been in the diner almost religiously for the last two months – only ever in the night shift between the hours of 2 and 5am. You didn’t know his name and given the city you lived in, chose to ignore how bruised his face always seemed to be.

“Just coffee today?” You asked, pouring him a cup. He lifted his head slightly, only grumbling in response. On the other side of the restaurant, there was a clicking sound from a businessman with a grey suit and an uglier briefcase. He looked at you expectantly, clearly irritated. You bit your lip. Asshole.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in some breakfast? I make some mean eggs.” He smiled slightly as you sighed. The clicking noise from the man’s fingers just got louder and more impatient.

“No thanks, Doll, just coffee.”

You nodded, offering him your own smile before your face dropped and you were forced across the room to an impatient middle-aged man’s beck and call. You fetched him the cheque, chancing a glance at the clock on the wall. 6am couldn’t arrive fast enough.

To say you were surprised to see no tip when you picked up the cheque from the businessman’s now empty table would be an overstatement of great proportions. You cleared his table, noticing that the man in the baseball cap had also left. However, when you went to retrieve the empty coffee cup from his table, you were surprised to see the face of Andrew Jackson. You frowned, smiling slightly before seeing to the other few-and-far-between customers in the diner at this time.

For the next few nights, you didn’t see the mysterious tipper in the diner. You didn’t think much of it, though. And at 5.30am, you weren’t going to lose the very little sleep you had thinking of it any more. Only thirty more minutes and you could escape and get some rest; well-deserved, you thought. The diner was actually completely empty, surprising for this time. The last customer you’d had (a lady, typing away into a computer for about three hours, that went through around seventeen cups of coffee) had just left. She’d paid in coins, and given a generous tip, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you placed each individual coin into cash register unbearably slowly. You muttered under your breath as you dropped a couple onto the floor.

As you bent down to pick them up, the bell at the door rang. Heavy, dragged footsteps made you frown but as you stood back, you were pleasantly surprised to see a familiar baseball cap, less so to see fresh bruises and- was that blood?

“Are you okay?” you asked, throwing the rest of the coins into the register and slamming it shut, leaning over the counter. The corner of his lips drew upwards as he sat at the counter, folding his arms in front of him.

“Fine, Doll.”

You frowned and grabbed the coffee jug from the machine, pouring him a cup and sliding it over.

“My name is Y/N.”

“Okay.” He smiled again and you couldn’t help but frown at the purplish hues of his face, the blood peeking out from under his hat. “Are eggs still on the menu?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his request but before long, a smile grew.

“Of course.”

He watched you mill around behind the counter, from the fridge to the pans to the shelves underneath the surface.

“Can I get you anything with that? Bacon? Hash browns? Mushrooms? Toast?”

“You’re okay, Doll. Eggs are fine.”

You nodded.

“How do you want them?”

“Surprise me.”

The silence was comfortable and nobody else decided they wanted diner food before six in the morning, fortunately. You were so involved in cooking that you completely forgot about counting down the minutes until your shift was over.

“Voila,” you placed down a place in front of him, not unaware of the way his eyes never strayed from your face. “Two eggs, over-easy. Because it’s my favourite.”

You grabbed some cutlery and a little sauce and seasoning rack and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks.”

You leant on your elbows, trying not to watch him eat but finding nothing better to do. He ate quietly and quickly, not bothering to add any extras. Just eggs and black coffee.

“What’s your name?” you asked. The way he paused didn’t escape you.

“Frank.”

Frank, you thought, definitely suited him.

The phone in the back rang; knowing it would be your boss, you offered Frank a smile and disappeared into the back. After a conversation that was not only unnecessary but about quite literally nothing, you returned to the front. Frank wasn’t there, he’d been replaced by Ulysses S. Grant. The bell above the door rang again as the girl on the day shift arrived. She shot you a sympathetically annoyed glance. You gave her a smile, thankful to be able to finally remove your apron and go sleep.

It wasn’t until thanksgiving that you saw Frank again. It was the night before and ever the gracious leader, your boss had let you leave early. Midnight. Lovely. So, you walked through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen warily, with your key shoved between your knuckles. You were about half a block from your house when you felt eyes on you. Your skin crawled. Walking down the alley, you heard footsteps behind you and the bleakest part of your mind hoped that you were only going to get mugged.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” a voice called out from in front of you. You swerved to the left, quickening your pace. Fuck fuck fuck.

“No need to run. We just wanna say hello.”

You stopped suddenly as a short white guy cut you off. He was smiling. You heard the footsteps behind you get louder.

“I don’t want any trouble-“

“Neither do we, Darling.” The man behind you was closer than you thought.

“Please-“

The man behind you grabbed your upper arm. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, your ears throbbing.

With a strange jolt of adrenaline, you clenched your hand around the keys, jamming them into the man in front’s shoulder. He shouted as you pulled them out, reaching for you. Before he could reach you, the other man twisted you round to face him and he’s toothy smile. Mindlessly, you punched your hand into his face, feeling the keys sink into his cheek. He groaned and pushed you back. The keys dropped from your hand into a puddle on the ground. Fuck. You fell into the other man, hating the way his fingernails dug into your arm.

“You’re a bitch.” The one you had punched in the face spat, his cheek bleeding. The one behind you held you still – not from your lack of struggling – as the other approached. Your bag slid down your arm as you tried to rip your arms away; feeling his harsh grip eat into your arms.

A fist collided with your face and suddenly you were on the floor. A bottle smashed underneath you and you cried out, feeling the glass settle into the skin on your arm. You turned over, tasting blood in your mouth as your head swam. You could hear them talking behind you, chuckling to each other. You pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, your whole chest heaving. You reached for the rest of the half-shattered bottle, fingers skimming the glass surface. Before you could catch your breath, a hand gripped your hair roughly, pulling you to your feet as a cry left your lips. You’d managed to grasp the bottle and as your eyes watered from the pain in your head, you twisted round and thrust your hand into the figure holding you. He fell to the floor and you felt sick at the sight of the green glass buried in his shoulder, blood leaking around it and his eyes bulging.

“What the fuck?” the other man said, looking between you and his friend with angry eyes. You panicked, reaching to the ground to fish your keys from the puddle, hoping to get away. You didn’t get far before a hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back. He twisted your arm until you dropped your keys again. Your cry was cut short when his thick fingers wrapped around your throat and shoved you into the wall. Your free hand reached up to your neck, desperately trying to peel his fingers away.

“You fucking slut.” You moved your hand from your neck to his face, pulled and pushing to try and get him to let go. You clawed at his skin before shoving your fingers into his eyes, pushing until he let go and you dropped to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was hammering.

You started to crawl away; your knees were sore against the concrete. Again, you didn’t get far. The same horrible hand caged your ankle and suddenly you were pulled towards him. Your knees sang in pain as you collided with the ground again. You would no doubt have rashes when you got out of this. If you got out of this. He stood between your legs and a different kind of fear overtook you. With nothing keeping you there, you backed away, elbows wet from puddles on the ground. The other guy still hadn’t got up, hand at his shoulder. He was breathing though, which you supposed was good for you.

You saw out of the corner of your eye, behind you, a piece of piping. As he got closer, his eyes predatory and angry, you quickened your pace, trying to ignore the pain you felt in your face, your knees and your neck. You grabbed at the piping as best you could, it spinning away from you as you panicked, still facing him. He bent down again to grip your ankle, dragging you once again, making you wince. He settled on his knees, hands groping up your leg. Your stomach dropped even further. You tried to back away but his fingers dug into your hips. You could feel his breath on your face and you tried to push him away but he shoved your wrist into the dirt behind you. You tried to kick but he knelt on your shins, pinning them down.

With your free hand, you pawed at the pipe, praying you could reach it as his hands strayed to your waist. With renewed panic, your hand finally found the pipe and before you knew it, you were swinging. It struck him in the side of the head; he jolted to the left. He was angry. So, you hit him again, burying into his skull. He sagged on top of you and all you could feel was your breath unable to escape your chest, his heavy body touching your skin. You rolled over. His hand twitched towards you. So, you hit him again. And again. And again. You were crying and sweating and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t stop either. Not when his blood hit your face, not even when you were sure he was dead. You only stopped when you heard your name behind you.

You spun around, wielding the pipe roughly, pointing it towards whoever was there. Your heart stopped a little when you saw Frank. His eyes softened at the feral panic in your own eyes. His hands were raised in surrender, showing he meant you no harm. You wanted to believe him but in his right hand was a gun.

“Who the hell-“ the man with the glass in his shoulder began before a shot rang out. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he pointed his gun. You looked down at the man, briefly noting the way he dropped to the ground. Frank’s hand disappeared behind his back. You watched him tuck his gun into his waistband, approaching you slowly. He noticed your bag on the floor, fishing it out of a puddle, and the streetlight glint off of your keys a good few feet away. He picked them up too.

“You’re okay, Y/N.” he said softly. You dropped the pipe, barely hearing the clang as it hit the floor. You could feel yourself shaking as he got closer but you didn’t move. You didn’t want to see the man behind you. The man you were sure you’d killed. Frank knelt down in front of you, his hands still raised. You absent-mindedly wondered why he didn’t care about his jeans getting wet. You were sure they’d seen worse stains.

“Can you stand?” he asked softly. Looking at him, into his dark eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t going to hurt you. So, you nodded. But then you tried. You felt like Bambi as you tried to make it onto two feet. You scrunched your eyes shut as you stood, wobbling.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

You nodded again but still winced as his hand rested on your arm gently. His tough, calloused palms were soft above your bruised skin.

“I killed him.” You muttered, over and over again as Frank pulled you slowly and gently into his chest. His arms surrounding you stilled your shaking slightly; you were grateful. You were confused when his right arm disappeared and his other hand pushed the side of your head further into his chest. It hurt briefly but when his hand covered your ear and another gunshot broke the silence, you silently thanked him.

“I killed him.” Frank said softly, his right arm returning to pull you into him. His logic was shaky but you appreciated the sentiment. “Where do you live, Doll?”

You couldn’t reply.

He stopped trying.

Without jostling you too much, he bent down and lifted your legs off of the floor. You were in a trance as he walked down the city streets, away from those men. You only sort of registered being inside, only taking notice when he lowered you to the ground. Still shaking, he didn’t dare move his hand away from your back. A jingling sound rang from another room, getting louder. You flinched. Then a dog appeared. It was a pit-bull with a too-large collar and a wiggle when it walked. A small smile lifted your cheek.

“Go away.” Frank said to the dog. The dog only barked back, coming closer to you with its wagging tail. Frank was about to shoo him out the room when you bent down, patting its head gently. Once again, Frank’s expression softened.

“What’s its name?”

Your voice was hoarse and broken and Frank barely recognised it.

“He doesn’t have one.”

You looked up at Frank then, with an almost teasing smile. You didn’t say anything though; just turned your attention back to the very grateful dog in front of you.

“Come on,” Frank said, lightly touching your arm, unable to tear his eyes away from the already forming bruises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You left the dog rather reluctantly, following Frank into a cramped bathroom. He coughed slightly. “If you take your clothes off and sit on the tub, I’ll get some first aid shit.”

You were slow to take your clothes off – a mix of embarrassment, pain and unsureness marked every movement. Frank knocked before he returned.

“Come in.”

You were sat on the side of his bathtub only in your underwear. You’d avoided the mirror, already horrified at your injuries you could see. Frank examined you from the doorway. You couldn’t help but feel conscious of his stare.

“I’ll clean up the worst ones.” He said, sitting on the toilet lid so he was level with your shoulders. “I brought you some clothes.”

You looked at the pile of large clothes on the floor and nodded. Silence fell again as he started with your legs, using a wet cloth to wipe away the dirt from the scrapes and rashes on your skin. You just watched his face, too sick to watch him work. Every time he moved to a different injury, he looked at you, his eyes soft, checking if you were okay. You appreciated how such a tough guy could be so gentle. You flinched when he moved your hair to look at the bruises on your neck, more than you had done when he’d painstakingly picked glass from your arm. That was the only time you looked away from him.

Then his hand rested on your chin, holding it in place as he brushed your skin with a wet cloth. You couldn’t tell what you looked like but from the way the cloth became more and more soaked with blood each time he pulled away; you didn’t want to know. When he was finished, he held your face for a moment longer, tucking your hair behind your ear and offering you a smile.

“Clothes are there. I’ll be outside.”

And with that, he left. You could hear the jingling of the dog’s collar again through the door and you imagined Frank bent down, petting him whilst he waited. Frank’s clothes were too big for you but you appreciated how soft they were. Before you could open the door, you caught your reflection in the mirror above the sink and winced.

You were bruised all over and your nose was still raw despite Frank’s attempts to get rid of the blood. You could also see the welt forming on your neck. You could’ve stood there for hours; thankfully, Frank’s gentle knocking pulled you from your reverie and you opened the door to see him leaning against the wall opposite, pit-bull sitting happily at his feet.

“You should stay here tonight.”

You only nodded again before he led you into the lounge. It wasn’t much, with only a TV and a sofa linked to a tiny looking kitchen. You sat down, smiling slightly when the dog sat next to you, eager for more attention.

“Do you want some food?” Frank didn’t strike you as a man with a stocked kitchen. “Coffee? Water?”

“Water, please.”

Frank searched a good five minutes for a clean glass before he decided you’d have to cope with a coffee-stained mug. When he got back to the couch, he found you asleep, his dog sitting on your lap. He smiled. When the dog noticed him, he wagged his tail ferociously but, you didn’t wake up. So, he decided you probably wouldn’t wake up if he moved you. The dog was hot on his heels as he carried you to his bed, placing you under the covers and sending his dog a dry look when he joined you.

“You’re lucky she likes you.” He said to the dog, casting one last look at your face before closing the door and disappearing to spend the night on the couch.

[plummyplums]

5AM and On - Chapter 2

When Sam lit their candle and saw the ghost children all standing before them, they were ready to turn and run faster than they ever had. However, they stopped in their tracks when they caught a glimpse of their hands.

Aka Sam tries to manage as a new companion to the Weaver kids and the whole, y’know, being dead thing.

I’m trying to have more fun with my writing, so I’m shirking some of my perfectionistic tendencies for this story. ��Forgive me.

They weren’t sure how long they cried for, but Sam was exhausted.  When their tears finally dried up, they looked to find the kids were still there, the girl having moved to sit beside them.  Her black eyes seemed sympathetic.  Sam’s voice was thick as they asked, “Can...can I leave?  Am I stuck here?”

The following silence told them all they needed to know.  Sam sniffled, having expected this answer.  Ghosts don’t just stick around because they want to, at least not ghosts like these.  “So...is this the afterlife?  We just turn into ghosts and get stuck where we died?”

They all seemed to stiffen at the mention of an afterlife, but if they were truly uncomfortable, no one said anything about it.  “Most people don’t stay when they die.  Our last few visitors didn’t.  Just us...and now you,” the girl murmured.  “If we could leave, we would’ve.”

Overwhelmed and on the verge of crying again, they tried to keep their cool.  “So...I guess we’re all stuck here together, huh?”

The spirits nodded, obviously resigned to this fate.  It was more than a bit awkward, considering they were the ones who killed Sam, but they didn’t seem to have a choice.  It’s not like Sam chose to stay there (not counting the choice to play Wick in the first place).  The uncomfortable silence that followed was eventually broken by the largest child.  “We’re being rude, we should introduce ourselves.  I’m Benny.”

Rude?  You literally murdered me!  Sam chose to keep their thoughts to themselves, not wanting to have a fight the moment they properly meet these kids.  That discussion could wait, or never happen, if they didn’t feel like it.  Honestly, they didn’t want to think about the fact that they were dead, and as long as they didn’t talk about it or look at themselves, they didn’t have to face it.  Talking about literally anything else sounded great in that moment, so they took to the conversation, no matter how awkward and uncomfortable.  “I’m Sam.”

He gave a sad smile.  It was obvious he was just trying to be polite, perhaps as a way to make up for what had happened.  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam.  I’m, uh, sorry we had to meet like this.”

“I wanna go next!” the girl interjected, jumping to her feet.  “I’m Lillian, and this is Caleb!”  She gestured to the digger child, who nodded eagerly before repeating his name.  The way his teeth clacked mixed with his raspy, dry voice made Sam shiver.  “He doesn’t really talk, but he can repeat stuff!”

“Repeat!”

Benny chuckled.  “Be careful what you say around him.”

Though a bit creeped out, they couldn’t help but chuckle at his energy.  It reminded them of some of their friends’ younger siblings, always excited and wanting to show off.

Their train of thought was interrupted by the boy in the smiling mask.  He seemed hesitant to speak to them.  “I’m Tim, and this is my brother Tom.  Before you ask, yes, we’re twins.”  The one with the cracked mask—Tom—didn’t meet their eyes.  Whether that was because of his obviously broken neck or shyness was unknown, though Sam was thinking the latter due to the way he shrunk behind Tim when they looked his way.  At least looking at him didn’t mess with their eyes anymore, the effect he caused had given them a headache.  The sight of bone poking through his flesh wasn’t that much better, however.

In fact, looking them over, the kids all looked pretty bad.  Tim was covered in scrapes and breathed noticeably, as if forcing himself to get air (Did ghosts need air?  Sam didn’t know).  Lillian’s skin was blue-grey, and it looked like her clothes were wet, not to mention her pure black eyes.  Caleb was near skeletal, rail-thin and with no eyes to speak of.  Benny seemed the best off, just from what Sam could tell.  It was unnerving, but also caused a bit of sympathy to grow in Sam.  They were just kids, but it looked like they’d been through a lot.  Maybe they had more in common than Sam would’ve guessed.

Without thinking, they asked, “How old are you guys?”

They looked surprised by the question, but gave their answers; Benny was the oldest at 14, followed the twins at 12, Caleb at 9, and Lillian a mere 5 years old (though she didn’t look it).  “Before we died, anyway.  No idea how old we are now, we haven’t kept track,” Tim noted.

Sam sighed.  They didn’t remember much of the story behind Wick, so they couldn’t really estimate.  “Let’s just go with what you remember.”

By then the sun was beginning to peek through the trees, and now that their adrenaline was wearing off, Sam was starting to feel the effects of being up all day and night.  They yawned, and everything suddenly felt quite heavy.  It was bedtime.  The kids seemed to pick up on their coming question, and Lillian helped them up as the others stood.  “C’mon, we sleep in the camp cabins.  They still have beds and stuff in them!”  She grinned, though Sam noticed she looked tired as well.  “I can teleport us, it’s faster.”

Remembering the nauseating feeling when she’d teleported them before, Sam quickly shook their head, chuckling nervously.  “It’s ok, I can walk.”

“Suit yourself!”  She shrugged, disappearing in a sort of haze.  Caleb dug into the ground with impressive speed, taking off in his little mole tunnel in the direction of the old summer camp.  Tim seemed to take this as a challenge, taking off after his trail as if racing him to the cabins.  His twin, seemingly not wanting to be left behind, also teleported away, leaving Sam to walk with Benny.  They were in no rush, and followed the path to the campsite, watching the sun rise on the horizon.

They mostly walked in silence, but as they got closer, Benny spoke.  “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about...y’know.  We didn’t know you’d get trapped here too.”

Sam’s thoughts buzzed like static, and they tried desperately to end this line of conversation.  “It’s...it’s ok.  I shouldn’t have played that stupid game in the first place.  I just...I didn’t think it was real until it was already too late.”  They didn’t say anything else until they arrived at the cabins.  Benny led them to a cabin, saying the others had claimed theirs long before, and bid them good day.

Despite being exhausted, it took Sam almost an hour to get to sleep.

[writerman]

Prompt: Thranduil and Bard went to college together but yearned from afar. Some 20ish years later they see each other again bc their kids go to college together. They weren't even aware that they lived in the same town until Legolas and Sigrid come back for vacation. Kind of like the last prompt I sent you.

Hallo, friend!

Please find my response to your prompt below. Thank you for supporting my stories by sending in prompts for me to respond to.

Please enjoy!

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

It was 5am the airport was deserted and Bard really, really wished he’d filled his travel cup with coffee before he had left the house to collect Sigrid from her flight home. 

It was freezing inside and outside with winter well and truly settled in for the holidays, the snow had finally stopped and Sigrid had assured her father their flight had not been cancelled but her friend she was travelling with had booked an earlier flight to be sure they’d get back the day they wanted. 

The blast of colder air from behind him and the sound of the automatic doors meant he was now not the only one in the airport and when he turned around he was greeted with someone bundled up in a long black fur coat and deep green scarf that covered half of their face. Though they wore no hat and their long white-blond hair was dusted with snow that had started lightly falling again outside. 

They stood a few feet away from him and gazed up at the arrivals screen which wasn’t even switched on before they huffed with irritation and turned to Bard tugging down their scarf so they could speak to him. 

Though, Bard was not ready for 1) how maddeningly gorgeous the man was and 2) how it appeared to be his old crush and roommate Thranduil from university some 20 years ago. This did not go unnoticed by the blond who broke into a bright smile as his expression changed from cold indifference to joyful recognition. 

“Bard!” He moved forward without prompting and slung his arms around Bard’s shoulders in a tight embrace. “Ah, how long has it been since we last saw one another?” 

It had definitely been at least 20 years since they parted ways in University to chase their dreams with a youthful exuberance that no longer existed within them. That boundless energy at the prospect of seeing the world, true blue-sky thinking with their hopes tripping from their tongues regaling all who would listen regarding their futures. 

What had Thranduil done with his life?

What had happened to have the man come back to Dale of all the places in the world to settle?

“I had no idea you were in town, what brings you here?” Bard asks as they broke the embrace, he tried to hide the fact his face had flushed pink the second Thranduil had thrown his arms around him. 

“I’ve lived here for years, what about you?” 

How strange it was, Bard had never seen him wandering the streets, not even once in the 10 years he had been settled there in Dale. 

Flight 206 Arriving from Mirkwood Intl at 5:30 am has been delayed. 

The booming yet cheery voice over the tannoy gave Bard heart failure but the dismay at hearing Sigs flight had been cancelled was enough to cover the thundering of his heart.

When he looked to Thranduil he looked equally upset and he turned on his heel and headed towards the door. 

“Come on, let’s not hang about, while I loathe the place, MacDonalds is open and they serve semi-decent coffee. It’s better than hanging about here.” Thranduil looked over his shoulder with a small smile and Bard, O, he followed behind the blond like a puppy, the same as he had all those years ago.

He was still a puppy, and still absolutely harbouring a ridiculous crush and still terrified of confronting those feelings. Somethings just never changed, not even after 20 years, a marriage and children.

And so, that was how Bard found himself sat in the plastic chairs of a booth in the fast-food restaurant catching Thran up on his life, the loss of his wife and the kids. It seemed the blond had a similar story just with one less child and they sat in tense silence for a few moments before Thranduil leaned over the table and put his hand over Bard’s with a coy smile. 

“As inappropriate as this may sound after our conversation,” He glanced around the empty restaurant lobby before continuing. “I had such an infatuation with you when we were at university. Gods it took over my life at one point, nothing obsessive, I promise but I was absolutely in love with you,” He sat back almost immediately after he’d finished speaking, clearly feeling better now he had admitted his secret. 

The information did not help Bard in the slightest. 

“What about now?” Bard ventured feeling brave for literally no reason other than perhaps he was over-caffeinated and it was now just after 6 in the morning. “Ahah, I don’t know why I asked that. Gods, it’s too early, who books a flight this early?” Bard tried to cover his embarrassment with an inane question but Thranduil waved that away looking so serious suddenly. 

“What about now?” Thranduil mirrored the words, but the emphasis was solely on the last word and Bard couldn’t hold his gaze to the blond any longer and instead stared at the plastic lid of his coffee cup. 

“Aren’t we too old to be working through ancient crushes?” Bard asks quietly, he lifts his drink to his lips and feels the still scalding liquid slide down his throat. It was the only distraction at his disposal and being unable to talk due to it sounded like the best thing for him and his mouth that seemed to run off without engaging his mind. 

“You think now you’ve hit your 40s you cannot go in search of love?” Thranduil asked, arching an eyebrow and still managing to look elegant even when unimpressed. “Don’t age yourself in such a way. Personally, yes, I struggled with the loneliness and finding new relationships for the longest time but I always knew I deserved to love again and again.” 

Surely it as easier for Thranduil to find someone to adore him. No that wasn’t fair, adoration wasn’t love. 

“Did you find love again, you didn’t mention you married again.” Bard cast his gaze to Thranduil’s hands, long fingers still smooth and as pale as he remembered… musicians hand he had always said and Thranduil had always enjoyed playing the piano when they had any sort of downtime from studying. 

There was no ring though. 

“Ah, no. It is difficult to find love and raise children at the same time. But now that Legolas is in university and Tauriel is in high school, perhaps I can try again. What about yourself?” 

There is no time for a reply as Bard’s phone begins to play the Coca Cola Christmas music signalling a call from one of his kids. 

It is Sigrid, their flight had just landed and she was currently waiting for her luggage and was he at the airport?

Both men spring from their seats and exit hastily in a bid to get to the airport before their children realise they had been sat cosied up in a MacDonalds trying their hardest not to flirt with one another.

They had failed, of course. 

Again, they went their separate ways, collecting their children and bidding one another happy holidays before heading to their separate cars likely not seeing another again. 

That was until the next day and Bard is sat on the sofa struggling to wrap Tilda’s Christmas gifts while she was out, Sigrid wanders in and hands him a piece of paper with a contact number written out neatly in her own handwriting. 

“Legolas said his dad wanted you to have his number in case of a flight delay like the last time.” A flimsy excuse and she saw right through it, Bard knew that when she grinned and plucked the half-wrapped gift from his hands to finish for him. 

“I think you should probably go call him.” It wasn’t a hint, it was an order and Bard wasn’t sure he enjoyed his children knowing anything about his love life, not like this anyway… but, rather than argue with her about anything to do with Thranduil, he merely nodded and headed to the kitchen dialling the number into his phone’s keypad as he did so. 

Thranduil answered on the second ring with a very smooth and professional greeting which melted away into a warm and friendly tone as soon as he realised it was Bard on the other end of the line. 

That was nice.

It was nice that Thranduil seemed excited to hear from him. 

“I want to get straight to the point, Thran.” Bard began realising it was far easier to talk about his feelings when the icy blue of Thranduil’s eyes weren’t rooting him to the spot speechless like they had all those years ago. “I had a crush on you in university and I hate saying crush because I’m 40 fucking years old but it never went away and I was hoping I could take you out for dinner sometime?”

There was a sigh of relief from Thranduil’s side of the line and when he spoke Bard could hear the smile in his voice.

“Look who is being so brave. You garnered the courage before I could- you win this time. I’d love to have dinner with you. I admit, being wined and dined by Bard Bowman sounds like a dream.” That was a rather big statement to make and Bard forced the oddly youthful giddiness forced down back inside himself before he said something to ruin it all. 

“A dream? How am I a dream date?” He didn’t really want to know, he was afraid Thranduil would tell him he was the perfect kind of dull for a man his age, even if that sounded out of character for the blond it was still a fear.

“Oh come on, you just want me to stroke your ego. But, fine, I suppose you deserve it after all these years.” Thranduil sounded like he was shifting to get comfortable before he spoke again, “You’re incredibly handsome, and you seemed to have gotten even better with age. You’re kind and gentle and you’re funny. I like a man that can make me laugh.”

Funny? 

He’d never been called funny before, perhaps he had been a comedian in university but he couldn’t recall, however, if Thranduil thought he was that was enough for him. 

“Ok, ok, you’ve made your point, I’m your dream man. That works well for me, so if I stuff this up I still have a chance?”

There was laughter from Thranduil and the deep rumble of it made Bard lightheaded for a second before he brought himself firmly back to planet earth to ask the most important question.

“So, when would you like to meet?” 

“Hmm, is tonight too soon?” No, no it was not, even if Thranduil had asked to meet him an hour from then he would agree. 

After all, hadn’t they spent enough time apart already?

There was no need for him to play hard to get or even casual. 

“Tonight is fine, I will pick you up at 8. Text me your address and I will see you then.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

When the call disconnected Bard wandered past the living room where Sigrid was sat talking quietly on the phone, she spotted her dad and grinned knowingly giving him a thumbs up.

He received a text later that day from Thranduil containing his address and then another right after simply saying:

I have the house to myself tonight ;) 

The night would be an eventful one but who was Bard to complain? 

This year was going to have a very different ending to all those he had spent in the past alone. Even if he was terrified of this whole new adventure, at least he was doing it with someone who wanted to be by his side for the entire ride.

[moon-nymphet]

ello!!!!! could i req some kuroo, akaashi and iwaizumi hcs of how they met an extroverted and bubbly girl and how they fell for them?

hii sweetie!! there you have it! ♡ (btw i’m sorry if there is any spelling mistake, i’m not writing in my first language, it’s 5am and I didn’t read this again before posting it ٩◔‿◔۶)

☆ Kuroo

you attend to Karasuno High School and like voleyball, so one random day you were watching Karasuno vs Nekoma in the stands  

suddenly a ball that travelled at the speed of light hits you in the face, making you red as a strawberry after hearing some giggles 

when you recover your breath and look to see whose fault was, there you have him, a tall and black haired boy looking fine af

at the end of the match, when you were already leaving, you feel someone’s hand on your shoulder 

“Hey, I’m very sorry about that, is there any way that I can make it up to you?”

it was him, and he was even hotter up close 

“Maybe... can I have your number?” 

yeah you did that. 

a smirk slowly appeared on Kuroo’s lips, who nodded and wrote it down for you before leaving, giving you a sassy wink 

your friends, who witnessed everything, couldn’t stop talking about how lucky you were 

from that day on Kuroo and you started talking and hanging out frequently 

Kuroo would probably take you to big arcades in Tokyo

you would act as two little children, being competitive to each other

the loser always had to take a silly challenge invented by the other 

after some time seeing each other and going together to the arcade, Kuro lost, to your delight 

it was already nightime and Kuroo was walking you to the train station so you could return home 

“You still haven’t told me what I have to do” he glanced at you nonchalantly as you walked 

“Sorry? What do you have to do...?” you stopped on your tracks and faced him, confused and not knowing what he was referring to 

“Yeah, I lost today at the arcade” Kuroo shrugged and a grin appeared on your lips as he reminded you of that

“Kiss me, then” you challenged him without even thinking twice your words, Kuroo’s eyes opened wide, but two seconds later he was leaning on you

finally, the moment you both were waiting for since weeks ago came, Kuroo’s lips touching yours, his hand gently tilting your chin up and both of you closing your eyes as he deepened the kiss little by little 

☆ Akaashi 

thank Bokuto because Akaashi and you met through him

Bokuto and you have been friends for years (don’t ask me how you managed to bear with him for years cause idk) so one day he invited you to this match they were having 

after winning the match, the team decided to celebrate at one of the boys’ house and your friend told you to go with them so you accepted

you didn’t even know him, but it was Akaashi’s house, he seemed like a pretty serious guy 

as time went by, most of the boys were playing videogames but you were pretty bored and decided to walk out to the garden 

sitting down on the grass, you noticed steps behind you and looked back to find Akaashi standing there

“are you bored too?” he asked you with half a smile on his lips and looking to the floor

“kinda... I’m sorry that I came to your house without even being your friend” 

“huh? Don’t apologize for that foolishness, at least I have someone to talk to”  

Akaashi gave you a shy smile and it was just in that exact moment you knew you needed to know more about him

the two of you probably spent two hours talking in the garden without getting tired of each other 

you even exchanged your telephone numbers and it wasn’t awkward at all, it came naturally

after that day you two continued talking and seeing each other often

building your relationship wasn’t easy as the boy is quite reserved

but your extroverted personality helped a lot with it

unexpectedly it was Akaashi the one who took the first step and kissed you

it was simple and not really romantic, but the tenderness he transmitted to you was simply adorable

“Y/n?” he said when you were already leaving, causing you to look back at him

“Yes?” you couldn’t almost finish the word when he planted his lips on yours, pecking you and quickly pulling away to show the same shy smile from the first day you met

☆ Iwaizumi

your crush since day 1? Iwaizumi Hajime 

the issue? he was a 3rd year and you were a 1st 

at least there was a good thing: you played voleyball too in the female team 

so you would see Iwaizumi pretty often at the school gym 

and you’d literally drool everytime you saw him training 

it took long for you to gather enough courage to do it, but you finally did it 

this is how sassy you are on a scale from 1 to 10: 11. 

asking Iwaizumi to teach you how to do a floating serve wasn’t in your plans but what else could you do to get his attention 

to your surprise (because we won’t deny he looks pretty intimidating) Iwa kindly offered to train with you in your free time 

Oikawa started teasing him from the distance when he saw Iwaizumi being that nice to you

all Iwa-chan did was glare at him and it was more than enough 

as he promised, he helped you during the following weeks

your non-existent relationship certainly grow to a pretty close one during those weeks

I’m not gonna say Iwa-chan was the flirtiest man because he wasn’t and we all know that 

but it’s pretty fair to say you were not the only one interested 

eventually you learnt how to do the serve and you thought that was the end to some incredible three weeks 

but: no 

Iwa-chan suggested that you could keep training together at least twice a week, and you happily agreed 

the thing was slow but little by litle you two started to show more affection for the other, even in front of the team sometimes

it was like you two weren’t official nor a couple, but would flirtatiously play with each other’s hands, or he would give you random back hugs in front of everyone

you also cared so much about each other and it could be seen, Iwa-chan walked you home everyday after training

it was pretty obvious that you had feelings for each other, and it officially showed when Iwaizumi kissed you in front of your house door

 when he was about to say goodbye he surprised you with a sweet kiss 

“bye Y/n, I love you”

“see you tomorrow Iwa-chan, I do too”

[botwstoriesandsuch]

hii~~ I'm really excited to see a new botw blog writing stories. Could I maybe request a one-shot with Revali? Him and his s/o (preferably fem but gn is also alright) just cuddling one night and his s/o being worried about the Calamity and the future. Hope I'm not asking for too much, thanks a lot~

Thanks for the request! I’m sorry for the wait, please enjoy!

Warmth

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild

Revali x Reader

Black smoke and a lingering fog clouded the air. The world was burning, houses were blackened to ash, whimpers and screams melded into a conglomerate white noise. The sky was scarlet, with dark clouds violently circling like a hurricane. You stood on the street and watched the destruction of Hyrule. 

Despite the chaos happening around them, the Hylians were going about like nothing was wrong. You couldn’t get a good look at their faces or expression, given the fact that many were being engulfed in flames. Children were playing in the square, knights stood to the side, chatting away. The people were walking the streets, some strolling a few paces, even skipping, before their bodies burned to ash. They were going about their day like any other.

Quickly, you tried to grab the shoulder of a Hylian walking away from you.

“Hey, HEY! What happened here? What’s going on?”

He continued walking, ignoring your hand on his shoulder, but spoke with a soft voice

“Nothing,”

“The hell are you talking about, can’t you see everything around you?”

You gestured to the sky and the town, arms moving wildly. Voices without bodies were shrieking in the distance. The Hylian continued walking forward, his clothes smoldering as if ready to burn at any moment.

“Nothing happened, no one did anything, and now there is nothing.”

Then, he stopped, dead in his tracks, perhaps literally. Screams continued to fill the air, the soft rumbling of the castle in the distance pulsed in your ears. The world was collapsing, but the people went about their day. Your hand, still on his shoulder, went cold. His posture went limp, like a corpse, before turning himself to face you. 

“It doesn’t matter anyhow…”

He held on to your arm, grip like stone, his whole body now burning. When you finally saw his eyes, there was nothing but a sunken, black void, hollow of life. 

“I’m gone and so are you.”

… . . 

“AHHHHH! FU – ”

You crashed into the floor, the hammock above you swaying in the wind. You rubbed your head, starting to feel the beginnings of a throbbing headache. Moving your legs you positioned yourself to where you were sitting on the floor, back against a fluffy Rito pillow.

“Quite the graceful landing.”

Above you, Revali was giving you a silent, mock applause. His head was tilted to the side, an eyebrow was raised, accompanied by a smug smile. 

“If only you got up that fast every morning.”

You scoffed, pulling another pillow towards your chest, hugging it. “Yeah, well 5am everyday is a bit much. I’m no early bird, unlike you.”

He clicked his tongue. “Well, it’s too late to go back to sleep, and too early to go out.” Revali leaned forward, brushing aside blankets and pillows. He steadied the hammock before dropping down and settling beside you. You sighed.

“Sorry, did I wake you up just now?”

“No, you had been mumbling in your sleep for some time, so I’m afraid I was already wide awake when I witnessed your spectacular descent.”

You gave a half hearted chuckle. Looking out into the trees, you could see the colors of the night. It was a bit cloudy, silver clouds laced a space blue sky. The brighter stars still winked and gleamed. Around you, you could see pine trees, and the distant rock formation of the Hebra plunge. The world breathed steadily, even the songbirds were asleep. Soft windmills sputtered in the wind. The breeze whispered sweet nothings, swaying tawny branches and evergreen leaves through the air. You gave a slight shiver, before hugging your pillow closer. 

“It’s cold.”

“Oh? But you were so eager to get out of your blankets,” Revali nestled beside you, “I suppose it’s up to me now to deal with your dense logic.”

This was the part where you were supposed to laugh, or sigh, or give a quick remark back to Revali, but you stayed silent. You were busy thinking about…what you just saw. 

“What’s wrong?”

Revali was now brushing your fingers with his wing, the soft feather touch already calming you. 

“It’s nothing,” you lied, “but, can you just…”

You moved closer, letting him wrap his full wing around you.

“Can you just stay here for awhile?”

He nodded. Revali’s downy feathers warmed your soul. He rested his beak on your head, and played with your hair. You closed your eyes and hummed a song you had heard a Rito sing the other day.

You were in his embrace for an eternity, and you would stay for even longer, had the thoughts of your dream not lingered in your mind. Sensing you suddenly shifting, Revali looked back down at you, a curious expression on his face. 

“I had a nightmare.”

His jade eyes continued to gaze at you, there was comfort, maybe even pity in those eyes as they continued to study you. You turned away before continuing. 

“It’s just, everyone–even you– has been really stressed lately. I’m always questioning whether we’re doing enough, whether everything’s gonna work out. In my dream I saw…I think I saw–”

“Stop.”

You glanced back at him. He pulled you even closer, nuzzling his beak in your hair.

“There’s no need to explain, I get it.”

“But I–”

“No, you don’t need to talk about it.”

You sighed. You moved your fingers through his feathers, cherishing every movement and soft touch. Despite the lack of walls, cuddling with Revali filled you with a sense of warmth. Revali closed his eyes and spoke again.

“Everyone’s getting worried now-a-days. Everyone is getting more anxious by the hour.” You could feel him gently tightening his hug. “But there’s really no point in it. It won’t do you any good. The best you can do is move on. You’ll always have tomorrow to deal with it.”

You turned around, planting a kiss on his beak. He smiled.

“Everything’s going to be fine, [Name],”

Finally, you allowed yourself to brush against him. Without his armour, it was easier to cuddle and wrap around him. The breeze fought an unwinnable battle against the comfort you both felt. You closed your eyes, and sighed, breathing out the last traces of fear and worry.

“Let’s just forget about our troubles for another moment, OK?”