#anyway had to let some thoughts out again

[multipleoccupancy]

It was relief that she understood he was just worried about her, though he did wish she would learn to worry about herself more! He did give something of a double take at her confessing that she knew she was going to get a lecture. Was he becoming predictable or had he dealt out so many lectures they were becoming just the norm for her? Hmm. "I appreciate you telling me anyway," he said softly and gave a little smile of his own back to her, "lecture or not."

He wondered what would happen if she fell back to sleep, would she wake up in another day or the same day? Would the Hound be just about to attack her still and time in the other timeline had simply been paused until she returned later? His head ached at the thought of it and he decided it was not something they could worry about in the moment, but it lingered in his mind, distracting him from other thoughts and priorities quite effectively.

At Violet's request, Theo gave a small nod, "I did promise a movie," he agreed and smiled again, this time repressing a yawn, he had barely slept on the couch in her room. He would keep awake for Violet's sake to try and protect her in what ways he could, he supposed he had best find himself a coffee. "Want to go and pick which one you want to see?" He offered, happy to let her choose though he hoped it would be nothing that might put him to sleep! "Do you want a warm drink too while we watch? Some popcorn maybe?" That would keep them awake, right?

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet looked a little bit sad that her dad had stepped away from her bed and was now hovering next to the couch. It seemed he felt bad about upsetting her, to the point where he'd assumed she didn't want him to stay here. He couldn't be more wrong. She would have liked a hug instead. "It's not fun being scolded," she admitted, because it wasn't. "But I know you're just worried about me."

"I also knew this was goin' to earn me a lecture, and I told you anyway," she offered with a wobbly smile. It wasn't easy. She often wished her dad would trust her more. But Violet could imagine that it wasn't easy for him either. And this time, she could not really argue with him. Her plan had been foolish and immature.

She slowly stood up, stretching her legs. Her wrists were still pink and a little bit sore, but the skin was slowly getting back to normal. Outside, morning had started to lazily rise onto the horizon, painting the sky a haunting shade of blue. "Could we... go an' watch a movie? I spent the whole day in bed, at the ward."

[tame-the-lion-writes]

alpha!slasher!königx omega!reader

CW: implied murder, (and in bonus thoughts) implied kidnapping, non-consensual drug use

Damn pheromones.

If it weren't for petty social sensibilities, König would be clamping a hand over his nose to stifle the thoughts--and scents--running through his mind. In the past, it wasn't so bad. Alphas like him were drawn but could otherwise stand their existence(--at least until the addicting whiff of a heat). But omegas smelled so artificial these days; sickly sweet, like candy, or even worse--chemicals. Perfumes made to amplify the already-overwhelming smell of sugar. More like cough medicine hacked down with two bottles of water. And even a spoonful was far too much.

But the woman across the table seemed to flaunt that.

Silly thing--he thought. Pretty, by all standards, as omegas often were, but silly. Sure, he'd agreed to court her and bring her to a high class restaurant, just as his salary and rank could provide, but that cherry red smile on her lips seemed as plastic-ridden as the patch on her neck. Artificial enhancers. As he's learned in the past three and a half decades of being mate-less, it had become a staple.

No matter, though.

He'd get rid of the scent soon enough.

His date is going on and on about some topic he doesn't care about. Maybe commenting on the scars cutting through his face (though she doesn't seem to mind). Cherry red lips parting and teeth shining, but he doesn't hear a word. There's a gag waiting for her at the back of his car, anyway--and scent blockers ready to be forced down her throat. Did the police ever think about that, he wonders?--how scent blockers made it so easy to disappear without a trace? Stupid creatures hadn't learned to investigate without relying on their nose.

(And even if they had, he'd left no paper trails; he was a dead man walking, at least on paper, thanks to convenient career aspirations.)

But before he could reach on over, suggest an escape to elsewhere--(from life itself)--up came the sweet young thing holding a notepad in hand, apron around the waist, apologizing that the other waitress had clocked out for the evening, and that she was here to take over. And König's hand stops, hovering over the edge of the table, a light, unnoticeable tremble to it as he finally breathes in.

Subtle. Subtle.

Almonds. Cinnamon. Warm bread and butter.

He licks his lips subconsciously, tasting the warmth as he swallows.

König leaves the restaurant that night, still letting the other omega cling to his arm, but he returns a week later--(it's all he could wait)--alone because, "things just didn't work out." But of course, you take him at his word: he looks surprised to see you again, and squints as if to re-read your nametag. But really, he's learned your schedule, the make and model of your car. The license plate, registration number--the address of your apartment. (Of course he has--why wouldn't he?--) Not once have you left his mind. Because you're something new to him, new to occupy it--how strange; how precious.

-- And not too sweet.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

König continues to visit, and though you find it strange he goes alone--the restaurant is more popular with couples after all--you start to look forward to seeing him now and then. König's patient the first month or so, upping the frequency only little by little, because at first, he's convinced that seeing you from a distance every night is enough.

But patience only lasts so long.

He finally asks you out on a date, and you agree.

There's a few dates, really. (Can't have you disappearing from your friends' lives the moment you mention going out with him, after all.) A few dates before it happens.

You can't recall going to his house, or even his car. And you certainly don't recall getting into a bed that smells just like him (--cold metal, maybe iron, maybe from him--maybe from something else--)

You're about to unwind from the (admittedly warm and comfortable) bundle of sheets around you when König walks in, carrying a tray of freshly cooked food, and sets it down nearby. Before you can ask any questions, he's shoving his face into the crook of your neck. Brushing his nose against your scent gland--almost purring.

"K-König? Where am I? What are you doing--"

"Shh, Mäuschen. It's alright. You're home."

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Rescue)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: During your distracted state Tara took the opportunity to wiggle her arm out of your grasp and began marching down the alley.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

You and Tara walked down the streets of New York to her apartment. You had finished your classes for the semester and were finally on break. It wasn’t often you and Tara truly got to be alone to go out and do something, Sam or your mom were always wanting someone to be around. It was almost a year later when they finally decided to let up and let you and Tara live normal lives again, after a lot of begging from Tara. You personally didn’t mind, you didn’t like to go out anyway, though being able to go over to Tara’s or back to your house without an escort would have been nice.

The two of you had just grabbed dinner at one of your favorite restaurants, and you had your arms wrapped around each other as you walked down the street. You were passing an alley way when you heard something fall. You and Tara both turned, squinting your eyes to see what made the noise but saw nothing. Tara started to pull away from you and move towards the dark alley.

“Didn’t you hear that?” She asked, when you quickly pulled her back to your side.

“Yeah,” you said, looking at her like she had grown two heads. “Which is why I’m stopping you from going down a dark and creepy alley.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but stare at Tara. Until you were attacked yourself and no longer had to keep your relationship a secret did you truly understand where Sam was coming from. You’d admit Sam was just a bit overprotective, but you also couldn’t deny that with a sister like Tara, her overprotectiveness was warranted. Tara very well knew the dangers of the world and of her life in particular, just because Ghostface was gone didn’t mean there weren’t still the random crazy’s that tried to go after and threaten her and Sam.

During your distracted state Tara took the opportunity to wiggle her arm out of your grasp and began marching down the alley. You snapped out of it almost as soon as Tara was out of your hands and without giving it a second thought you took off after her. You really hoped it was nothing and you wouldn’t have to make Tara feel guilty for the rest of her life if the two of you got murdered.

“Tara,” you whispered. You ran up next to her, sticking close to her side, for her protection, definitely not because you were scared.

The two of you froze when you heard more rattling. It sounded like someone had bumped a garbage can or was riffling around in one. You were seriously hoping you’d find some homeless man digging through trash or a worker from one of the nearby restaurants taking out the trash for the night. Those were the best-case scenarios you could come up with because anything else led to one or both of your deaths.

“Over here,” Tara whispered, seeming to not have heard you, or she was ignoring you. She grabbed your arm and began dragging you towards the trash bins against a brick wall.

You groaned but followed along. One of the trash cans was knocked over, the lid on the ground next to it. You furrowed your brow, there wasn’t anyone near it, and the alley was a dead end so it wasn’t like the person could have run away. There wasn’t anywhere for someone to hide either, unless they were rather small. There was an old pallet propped up against the brick wall and a blue tarp that had been dirtied from the rain and usual alley gunk draped partially over the pallet.

Something shuffled, moving the tarp and making you take a step back. Tara wasn’t deterred though. Tara pressed forward and crouched down, getting halfway under the tarp.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you whispered, your voice going even higher. “Get out of there,” you moved forward and began to puller her back by her waist. Tara waved her arm back, knocking your hands off her. “Tara,” you whispered harshly.

You let out a silent groan and kicked at the pavement. Even if you didn’t die in the alley, you would certainly die if anything happened to Tara. Sam would probably even murder you herself, you being her new favorite person wouldn’t even be able to save you if something happened to Tara while you were with her.

Tara finally backed up out of the tarp and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh, she didn’t get murdered in front of you, but now she was going to have to survive you. “What the hell were you thinking?” you asked, your voice no longer a whisper. “Who goes down a dark alley in the middle of night!” you gestured at your surroundings. “Who goes under a tarp after a strange noise?” you gestured at the tarp. “Seriously, babe, I…” your words quickly died when Tara turned around and in her arms was a tiny kitten.

You were sure you were making heart eyes at the little guy, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “You were saying?” Tara said, raising an eyebrow.

You reached out and scratched under the kitten’s chin with your finger. He was definitely black but if he had any other markings or colors you couldn’t tell, his fur was caked in mud and who knew what else from the alley.

Your head snapped up as if suddenly remembering where you were. “You still brought us down a creepy alley,” you said, taking your finger away from the kitten to point at Tara.

“Here,” she said, shoving the kitten into your arms. You didn’t have time process what was happening as you instinctively reached out, taking the kitten in your arms. “Put him in your jacket.”

You looked down at the little guy in your arms with a frown, you could smell him from where he was. You looked up to see Tara glaring at you. You grumbled and stuck the little guy in your jacket, making sure to keep an arm around him so he was secure and warm.

Tara began walking off back out of the alley finally. You ran to catch up, adjusting the kitten as he squirmed in your hold. “Sam’s not going to be happy,” you said as you fell into step beside her.

“She said I could have a pet,” Tara said with a wave of her hand.

“She said she’d think about it.”

Tara continued facing forward as she rolled her eyes. “It’s basically the same thing,” she waved it off again. “Who cares.”

You let out a shaky breath and continued to follow after Tara. Sam was definitely going to care, and she would be the first to point out that she never officially agreed to it. You weren’t about to try arguing with Tara though and there was no way you’d be leaving the little guy in your arms on the streets now that you’ve rescued him.

When the three of you finally got back to Tara’s apartment, she opened the door as quietly as possible and peeked her head in. “Sam!” she called. “Sam?” you strained your ears, trying to listen for any sign of movement inside. “She’s still at work,” Tara whispered back to you and pushed the door open fully.

You followed Tara into the apartment and instantly took the kitten to the bathroom. You plopped the little guy down in the sink and shrugged off your jacket that you were now definitely going to have to wash. Tara came back in with a washcloth and some hand soap.

“We can’t use that,” you said, nodding at the soap. “Kittens are too sensitive. We either need kitten specific or fragrance-free dish soap.”

Tara raised an eyebrow at you, and you just shrugged. She took the hand soap back and came back a moment later with the correct dish soap. “It’s not a permanent method,” you said as you wet the washcloth a bit before adding a drop of the soap. “But it will clean the little guy up for now.”

“We’ll get you all the proper stuff tomorrow,” Tara said in a baby voice as she scratched the kitten behind his ear.

You raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure how she intended to hide the kitten from Sam and also buy it stuff before telling her sister anything. You kept your mouth shut though and got to work cleaning off the little guy. You smiled as you wiped all the gunk off him, making sure to avoid his eyes. The kitten behaved well enough, hardly ever meowing or trying to run away, but you were sure he was just terrified and had no idea what was going on.

“There we go,” you whispered as you finished up. You finished dabbing him with a wet corner of the cloth, making sure to get out all the soap.

Tara shoved you aside when you were done and held him up high as if he were Simba from Lion King. When you got full view of him all cleaned up you saw he was all black and very fuzzy. Little tufts of fur stuck off the tops of his ears, making them look too big for his little head.

“Tara!” Sam called out, making both you and Tara freeze. “I’m home!”

Tara shoved the kitten into your arms and cracked open the bathroom door to peek her head out. “I’m going to distract her,” she whispered back to you.

“Wait, what?” you whispered but Tara was already opening the door. “No, wait, what am I supposed to do with this?” you looked down at the kitten in your hands.

You inched your way closer to the door and tried listening as Tara attempted to stall Sam. You let out a sigh and looked down at the kitten, shaking your head as Tara kept asking questions about Sam’s day. You loved her dearly, but your girlfriend sucked at stalling, if she wanted to make Sam suspicious though then she was doing a fantastic job. You were surprised at times that the two of you kept your relationship secret for so long because of how terrible Tara was at keeping stuff from Sam.

You knew you couldn’t stay in the bathroom all night, so you looked down, you silently apologized to the kitten before shoving him in the pocket of your hoodie. You were lucky he was small enough, he fit perfectly, now you just had to make it to Tara’s room without drawing suspicion. As soon as you opened the bathroom door a little more you heard a meow and looked down to see the kitten sticking his head out of one side of your pocket. You brought a finger to your lips to hush him, as if he could understand you. You put one hand in the pocket to keep it on the kitten, hopefully keeping him in place and quiet for the next thirty seconds.

Almost as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom you were seen by Sam and being called over to join her and Tara. Your eyes widened and you flicked a glance at Tara to see her with the same expression. You swallowed nervously before making your way across the kitchen.

“You joining us for dinner?” Sam asked.

“Sure,” you said. You smiled and hoped it would help cover your anxiety of the kitten moving around in your pocket.

“Assume you’re staying the night as well.” Sam’s back was to you as she opened the box for the frozen pizza, she was getting ready to throw in the oven.

“If you don’t mind.” Sam never minded when you stayed the night anymore, most times she insisted, especially when it was late like it was now. You still always felt the need to ask, you never wanted to seem rude or just assume it was okay for you to stay the night if Sam ever happened to not want you there for some reason.

“Of course,” Sam shrugged like she always did.

Sam put the pizza on the stone and then slid it into the oven. She set the timer and then turned around, leaning against the counter as her eyes flicked from you to Tara. You tightened your grip on the kitten that was trying to escape your pocket. Sam hadn’t looked down to see your sweatshirt moving yet but she narrowed her eyes as she glanced from you to Tara and back.

“What’s going on?” she asked cautiously.

“Nothing,” you and Tara said at the same time. You internally smacked yourself, that was the opposite of not seeming suspicious.

Sam opened her mouth but quickly shut it when a meow echoed through out the room. Your eyes widened and you didn’t even react as Sam glanced around the room. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Tara said unconvincingly.

Sam narrowed her eyes at her sister, then she whipped her head back around, looking directly at your pocket. You looked down to see the kitten once again sticking his head out. You sighed and took him out the rest of the way since you were officially caught.

“No,” Sam sighed. “No pets,” she looked at Tara.

“You said I could get one,” Tara instantly said, pointing at finger at Sam.

“I said maybe,” Sam raised a finger.

You shot Tara a ‘I told you so’ look which she promptly ignored. “Come on,” Tara begged. “He was on the street,” she gestured at the kitten in your arms. “You really want us to throw him back out there?” she looked up at Sam, blinking with her best puppy dog eyes.

Sam looked at the kitten in your hands as you stepped closer. She narrowed her eyes as the little guy looked up at her, letting out another meow. “He’s a survivor,” Tara continued. “Like us.” You and Sam both gave Tara a sideway glance, she seemed to really be pushing hard to keep the kitten, grasping at whatever straws she could.

Sam looked at the kitten again and sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “You have to take care of him,” she said.

“Yes!” Tara squealed, not letting Sam finish before she started jumping up and down and running to hug her sister.

“And make sure he doesn’t have fleas,” she pointed at Tara.

Tara nodded. “Of course! We’ll go to the pet store first thing in the morning!”

Sam narrowed her eyes as she stared at Tara for another second before finally nodding, seeming to accept Tara’s answer. Tara grabbed the kitten out of your hands and took off with him into the living room. You gave Sam a grateful smile before following after Tara.

“What should we name you?” she asked, staring at the kitten with a furrowed brow as she concentrated very hard.

“How about Perseus?” you suggested, dropping down next to Tara.

She furrowed her brow as she looked at you. “Greek mythology, really?” she wrinkled her nose.

“He’s a hero!” you defended, frowning at her reaction. “Slayed Medusa.”

“Anything else?”

You glance at the kitten then at Tara. “Joel…” you quickly glanced at the floor, suddenly finding it very interesting.

“The Last of us?” Tara frowned as she glared at you once again. “Really?”

You shrugged and threw your hands up in defeat. “Well, what do you got?”

“Midnight,” she smiled proudly at her option.

You scoffed and gave Tara your own glare. “That’s so basic.”

“I found him, I should get to name him,” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“You found him after dragging me down a dark alley.”

“What?” Sam’s frantic voice came from the kitchen.

“I should get some say,” you continued.

Tara narrowed her eyes, not even acknowledging her sister. “Fine,” she grumbled. “What else you got?”

You tapped a finger on your chin as you looked at the kitten, trying to figure out what name best fit him. “What if we go Marvel?” you asked. “He’s a fighter,” you scratched under his chin, smiling as he lifted his head to give you more access and started purring. “How about Steve?”

Tara bobbed her head back and forth as she considered the name. “Maybe,” she said, still deep in thought.

You smiled, at least it wasn’t a no, the two of you were one step closer. Tara held the kitten up again, tilting her head back and forth as she observed him. You looked at Tara and then the kitten before your eyes widened and you shot to your feet.

“I got it!” you said, a wide smile on your face. Tara raised an eyebrow as she awaited your idea. “Kovu!”

Tara’s eyes lit up as she also jumped to her feet. “Perfect!” she said. She leaned forward and captured your lips, catching you slightly off guard. You barely had time to reciprocate before she was pulling away. “How is it possibly to love you even more,” she whispered against your lips before going in for another kiss, this time you were prepared.

The two of you didn’t pull away until you felt the kitten wiggling between the two of you. You broke the kiss and looked down to see little Kovu was getting squished between the two of you. You both chuckled before dropping back down on to the couch.

Once the pizza was done Sam brought out a plate for you and Tara. Then the four of you sat in the living room, eating pizza and watching a random movie on TV. You and Tara would have to go to the pet store first thing when they opened to get Kovu some food, but you figured he would be okay for the night.

After you guys finished the pizza, you grabbed a blanket to throw over you and Tara as you cuddled up on the couch. Kovu got on the top of the blanket and walked around, kneading his feet as he got comfortable. Before you knew it, you and Tara were passed out, your heads resting against each other, and little Kovu was curled up between the two of you.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @youralphawolf72 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[blckbrrybasket]

Looking for you

Rafe Cameron x GN!Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.3k 

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of fighting, blood, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, allusion to smut

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rafe crashes at your place after being in a fight, but he needs more than just comfort.

Rafe's heart pounded in his chest as he approached your house. It was late at night, and the darkness seemed to amplify the weight of his trek. His clothes were rumpled, dirt smudged across his face, and dried blood clung to his chin from a recent altercation. His normally neat hair was now a tousled mess, gel long worn out.

He reached the familiar back door and hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. You and Rafe had been friends for years. He wasn’t even sure why you’d stayed around, but it made him all the more protective over you. Walking into each other's houses has become second nature to you. But tonight was different. Tonight, Rafe was dragging himself to your house with nowhere else to go.

With a faintly trembling hand, Rafe pushed open the door, its silent creak echoing through the quiet house. The hallway was dimly lit, casting long shadows that seemed to dance ominously on the walls. Rafe's footsteps were hesitant as he made his way further inside, the unease he felt mirrored in the eerie stillness of the house. As he rounded the corner into the living room, a warm glow from your open room invited him closer. 

Rafe had never really felt anything but ease at your house until now. What would you say about him getting into another fight? He knew you wouldn’t be thrilled, but would you be mad? His thoughts escaped logic as he crept closer to your bedroom.

It was unlikely that you were sleeping with your lamp on, but just in case, he didn’t want to wake you. He was thankful you kept low lights on rather than overhead lights, his head pounding from the hits he’d taken. Rafe didn’t want you to see the defeated look in his eyes either. He figured he’d crash on your couch, not considering that him glancing into your room would quickly draw attention.

He hadn’t even made a sound, peeking in your bedroom, but it was enough for you to sense his presence, not that he knew anyways. Looking at you on the bed, Rafe moved closer silently. He should be back in your living room, going to sleep on your couch, but he needs you. He needs the distraction.

Rafe winced as you whipped around at the floor creaking, your initial reaction driven by instinct and the remnants of a restless sleep. He raised his hands defensively, a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes as he watched your swing narrowly miss its mark. “Easy,” Rafe remarked, his voice laced with relief that you hadn’t hit him. 

He watched your face morph from fear to tired annoyance to disbelief seeing the dried blood plastered along his chin. Your hands instantly reached up to cradle his face, any anger forgotten. “Shit was that me?” Rafe allowed himself to be coddled by you, the worry etched into your features tugging at his heartstrings. As your fingers gently grazed his face, his eyes softened, meeting yours with an air of reassurance. “Hey, it's fine. No harm done, baby. Wasn’t you, just some asshole who thought he could take me,” he replied, his voice soothing.

With a gentle smile, he reached up to cup your hand against his cheek. “Don’t worry over that. I just need some time with my favorite person.” Rafe was one hundred percent laying it on thick, but he knew it worked with you. If you had more strength when it came to him you'd tell him off for fighting again, spurred on by god knows what, and for him scaring you awake. Rafe knew he had won when you rolled your eyes at his words.

His fingers threaded into your hair as he sent you a convincing grin. You slid your arms around his shoulders to hug him close, still somewhat upset with him. Rafe’s hands tugged you closer by your waist, as he lowered himself to the bed, letting you settle on his lap. His hands massaged at your waist feeling you slowly become pliant for him. “Fine, but I’ll fight them for you next time,” you murmured teasingly before resting your chin on his shoulder. A contented sigh escaped his lips, a sense of relief washing over him as the adrenaline drained from his veins.

“You don't have to worry about that,” Rafe chuckled. “I'll take care of anyone who fucks with you or me. Nobody messes with you,” he muttered, the last sentence quieter. You couldn’t deny the way your stomach flipped at his words, resisting a sweet laugh. His lips found your temple, planting a soft kiss there, before he leaned back slightly to look into your tired eyes. Your eyes met his with the new distance, studying his features. 

“You should sleep, Rafe…” Your thumb brushed up and down his cheek bone, eyes focused on the blood on his skin. “I'll sleep, but first, I want to make sure you’re okay too…just let me hold you?” How could you ever refuse him? You beamed, nodding to agree eagerly. He shifted slightly, settling more comfortably against the mattress, his movements careful and gentle. 

Rafe’s fingers traced soothing circles on your skin as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, savoring the familiar scent of you. “You always smell so good.” His thumb drug up the contours of your spine, over your shirt, or rather his shirt that you were wearing. He peppered a few kisses along the column of your throat, the corner of his mouth twitching towards a smile. 

A small, needy sound rose up from you when he pushed his nose into your throat. You tried to hide the sound by quietly clearing your throat, your face heating up, but the damage was done. Your noises sent a jolt of desire through his veins, his cheeks flushing as he absorbed the neediness you displayed. Rafe’s breath hitched when he all too suddenly realized your position of straddling him. He could immediately sense the heat emanating from between your thighs, close to the crotch of his shorts.

His hands, now resting on your waist, grounded him in the moment. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between you, Rafe tilted his head back, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin of your neck. He pressed a soft kiss against the spot where your pulse raced, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “Don’t hide, I want to hear every noise you make.”

Rafe's touch moved from your hips to your back, firm and comforting as he held you close. His lips continued their exploration, planting a trail of featherlight kisses along the column of your neck. “Just relax, babe. I've got you.” You shivered at his roaming hands and lips. Following his lead you tilted your head to the side, the muscles in your throat rippling.

Soft moans escaped your parted lips as his teeth scraped along your skin. A low groan rumbled deep in Rafe's chest as he felt your shiver and heard the sighs that escaped you. As he continued to lavish attention on your neck, his grip on you tightened, fingers digging through your shirt momentarily. 

You were unable to hide your throbbing through the thin fabric of your underwear. Rafe could feel the obvious throbbing heat between your legs, the barely present barrier of fabric doing little to contain the desire that pulsed between you. “Rafe…” You blissfully breathed his name out.

He huskily whispered your name in response, his voice thick with need and desire, as he met your gaze. Rafe’s pupils had eclipsed his baby blue irises, leaving you staring into dark pools of lust. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice filled with desperation. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Rafe's hands left you, traveling up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs gently caressing you. 

A hunger burned in his eyes as he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. “If you want it, just say the word. I'll give you everything you need.”

[halloweenbitch2764]

I decided this would be fun to write...hope you enjoy! These headcanons are NSFW, so you know the rules. Billy and Stu are 20 and in college. If you want full smut of any of the slashers, let me know!

Slashers Catching You Masturbating

Bo Sinclair

You had a lonely day while Bo was at the shop, doing whatever it was he was up to. That left you alone at the house. You had free reign with your time. However, you found yourself missing Bo for some unpure reasons. So you did what any normal person would do. You went to your bedroom.

Well, shared bedroom anyway. You crawled into bed and took your shorts off, leaving you in just your panties. You started your process.

Bo had finished at the station and headed back to the house. You were too lost in your own world to notice Bo had pulled up. Bo entered the house, finding it oddly quiet at first. Usually, you were around doing something. He went deeper into the house and heard soft moans coming from behind the door.

He noticed the door was cracked and peeked into the room to see what you were doing. His eyes landed on your form, splayed out on the bed and in your own world. He smirked to himself and opened the door suddenly.

You quickly pulled your hand from your panties and blushed wildly when you realized he had caught you. "Couldn't wait for me?" He teased. You looked away from him for a moment before looking back to him. He clicked his tongue and walked to the bed. "Just so needy for me, huh?" He taunted further, letting his hand rest on your inner thigh. You nodded in response to his question.

He smirked and gently but forcefully pushed you down onto the bed before climbing over you.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent was once again working on an art project, leaving you alone in the house. Slowly, your arousal started to build, and you needed a release. You didn't want to stop Vincent from his work, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You walked to your shared bedroom and laid down, getting comfortable before slipping your hand down your shorts. You closed your eyes and let your thoughts wander to what you needed most.

Vincent remembered he had left a couple of his tools in the house, specifically the bedroom. He had been working on them to keep them in pristine working order. He needed them for his current work, so he headed to the house.

It didn't take him long to arrive, and he pushed open the front door. He headed to your bedroom and pushed the door open without knocking first. He was met with you and your hand down your pants, a blush spreading across your face like a wildfire. He blushed behind his own mask at the scene. He'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on, though.

You quickly pulled your hand out. Before you could say anything, Vincent made his way over to you. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently ran his fingers up and down your upper inner thigh, getting teasingly close to where you wanted him. He pulled his mask off and set it on the nightstand before gently pinning you to the bed.

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to say anything. He would let his actions speak for him. And spoke they did as he kissed your neck, trailing the kisses downwards.

Thomas Hewitt

You had had a long day of working in the house and just needed some stress relief. You weren't sure when Thomas would be done butchering, so you decided to occupy yourself in the meantime. You made sure to close the door but couldn't really lock it since the lock didn't work.

You peeled your clothes off and laid on the bed, naked. You found yourself moving your hand between your thighs and drifting into your thoughts. Thomas was silent coming up the stairs so you had no idea that he was on his way.

He was tired from another hard day of work, butchering the meats and carrying deceased victims. He opened the door and stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him when he saw you were naked. His eyes darted to the hand between your legs, and his eyes widened slightly. He hadn't expected to walk in on you in such a position.

He looked nervous, like he wasn't sure if you wanted him to help or just leave you alone for a little bit. You caught on quickly to this from his body language. You motioned for him to come to you. "You can help...if you want to." You didn't want to make him feel like he had to if he was too tired.

He seemed to perk up at the words and took off his bloodied shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers. He sat down on the bed beside you and pulled you onto his lap, his hand slowly moving up your thigh and towards where you wanted him to touch you.

Billy Loomis

A soft sigh fell from your lips as you unlocked your apartment. You closed the door behind you and locked it since you weren't expecting anyone for a while. You set your bag down and headed for your bedroom. Arousal had been pooling in your body as you had been out running errands. You weren't particularly sure why, but nature was in control at the moment.

You crawled onto the bed and relaxed your body. Your hand moved down between your legs, and you got lost in your thoughts. After a bit, you were pulled from your thoughts when your curtains were thrown open, and Billy entered through your window. You quickly pulled your hand away, embarrassed. "Why didn't you come in the front door?!" You asked, extremely flustered.

He stared at you curiously for a moment before piecing together what you had been doing. A smirk crept across his face. "Front door was locked. I knocked, but you must've been too busy to hear." He said smugly. You huffed softly and looked away for a moment.

When you looked back, he was already at your bedside. He sat down on your bed and gently but firmly grabbed your chin. "Did you miss me that much?" He teased. Before you could answer he kissed you, his hand moving down your body and settling close to your cunt.

Stu Macher

You had finished your day at school and had finally gotten to your dorm. Thankfully, you didn't share it with anybody. You entered and tossed your stuff down, moving to your bed and laying down. You laid there for a minute, staring at the ceiling before you decided what you were in the mood to do.

You unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them off, throwing them to the floor. You let your hand slip under your panties, and you started, getting lost in the pleasure and not paying any attention to the outside world. That's why you forgot that you didn't lock your door. To be fair, you weren't expecting anyone for a bit.

Before you could process what happened, the door was thrust open. Stu bounded in, happy as ever, almost saying something when he noticed the position you were in. He quickly shut and locked the door so nobody would be able to get in.

You, on the other hand, quickly pulled your hand away. He grinned mischievously at you and strutted playfully over to your bedside. "Whatcha up to?" He asked, teasing you. "I thought you had class right now." He shrugged. "Professor canceled. Figured I'd come visit you. Looks like I walked in just in time." He teased.

You blushed at the teasing and smirked. "Well, since you're here, do you want to help?" He nodded eagerly before playfully tackling you onto the bed.

[theonlymanny]

Bruce Wayne x Batdad Reader!

Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But it was all good he loved and you loved him. Simply as that, you guys met because you where a famous singer and met at one of his galas.

At first he was all flirty and honoring his playboy persona. You didn’t show any interest at first because who doesn’t flirt with M/n. But Bruce was kind of charming and really nice. Beside everything you heard from him. And then you woke beside him in bed. “Oh my fucking-” anyway- let’s leave that behind.

After that night you thought he would leave you like it never happened and keep going on with his life, but surprisingly he invited you on a date. A couple years later you met Alfred a really nice person and enjoyed your company. And all of that disappeared because your 5 year boyfriend left you without a word for 10 fuckin years.

“Hey Alfred have you heard from Bruce I didn’t see him today” “oh master M/n… I thought you knew…” after that you promised to never trust anyone that easily, sure it affected you but you weren’t going to stop and be miserable. You decided to take out some new songs.

“M/N is back!” Your fans were going crazy! Everybody thought you quit the music career and left. And… Bruce well not like he didn’t care about you he just wanted to make a change. He was training to protect you and Alfred. And then he was there your “boyfriend” you were spending time with Alfred. You weren’t going to leave him alone for 10 whole years!

“H- hi umm…” Bruce looked at you. He looked much muscular and old… “ Alfred I think I should go…” you took your things and while you were about to open the door Bruce grabbed your hand. “Don’t you-” “please let me explain…” you lost right there “what Bruce!? Explain that you left me for 10 years!” Bruce was shocked. He remembered you much calmer and shy.

You let him explain why he leaved you. Because you were still young you gave him another opportunity. Some years later you met Richard or Dick who you protected with your life and refused to let him be robin. “Sweetheart please…” you refused to look at him “Bruce it’s too dangerous for a literal kid to be fighting grown ass men or women who want to hurt him!” Dick heard your discussion somewhat regretting he asked Bruce to be his sidekick. You saw Dick on the corner wanting to cry… “oh… Richard why are you crying?” “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to fight I I- just wanted to help.” You sighed “I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this but… I guess you can go help Bruce…” Bruce smiled and Dick celebrated and hugged you. “Thank you!” You looked at Bruce and said darkly“Bruce if something happens you are going to regret being Batman” Bruce only laughed and hugged both of you.

After some years Dick grew older and became a teenager. “Hey Dick what do you want to eat today?” Dick really grew trust in you that he called you dad first than Bruce. “Dunno dad maybe some pancakes??” And while Dick and Bruce were patrolling Bruce found Jason a young boy trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason really liked you he had a better relationship with you then Bruce or Dick. He would often ask you to read him books. It was like that until that day… Joker captured Jason. “hey Bruce!” When you went to the bat cave you only found Dick and Bruce. “Where’s Jason?” You were more then devastated when he died.

You and Bruce barely spoke, Dick tried to make you both love each other again, but he couldn’t even make you both sleep in the same bed. After 1 or 2 years Bruce decided to adopt another kid. Tim. That’s when you started thinking about divorce.

“Really!? Another kid you wanna harm this one too?” You started loosing respect from Bruce, but there was nothing you could do he was so stubborn.

In those years that Tim became and trained to be a robin. You also trained… to kill the guy that took your son. You learned how to use every weapon you had on your use, you where stronger and faster, and learned a lot of fight movements.

The day you heard your third son was captured… you didn’t let Bruce handle this. You went there by yourself with a shotgun,gun, rifle, a lot of more utensils that would help you get your son back.

The building was quiet there was no sign of life but only lifeless body’s all around you opened the door and automatically shot the Joker on his knee. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He screamed in agony while watching you above him. “Tim… go.” Tim looked at you and before he left he hugged you. “It will be okay…” after you made sure he left you grabbed a metal pipe and left the Joker on a wall. “Hahahahahahah! Let me guess you are going to kill me! WOW I’m so scared!” You looked at him angrily and hit him with the metal pipe. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He spat blood all over the floor. “Batsy is not gonna let you kill me” he laughed quietly. “Well guess what… I will make sure he doesn’t interfere. And I my self will make sure you don’t take anyone else’s kid again” Joker looked confused but then realized. “You are robins Dad! Batman’s husband!” That name hurted you… “well guess what it was so fun I don’t regret it.” He was pushing your limits. You started breathing loudly and one by one you killed the man that killed your kid.

————————————————————————

Hey yall! I think this was my longest post but I hope y’all like it. I leaved a tlou reference In there. That’s all! There might be part 2 tho.

[sp00kymulderr]

it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley

Fem!Reader gets the wrong number, but she REALLY needs a driver.

Part two here.

It hadn’t been a bad night—she danced, drank, laughed with her friends... But now, she was alone outside the club, searching for that Uber contact her friend had sent, fingers shaking as she tried to type the number correctly.

She nearly let out a dramatic little cry when she checked the time; it was freezing.

The vibrations of her phone in her hand came like a lifeline in the disorienting haze of neon lights, loud music, and a few too many cocktails. She blinked as a new text popped up from “Uber???” Well, that’s what she had saved him as anyway.

She squinted at the message, trying to process the details in her tipsy state. A mask? What kind of Uber driver wore a mask? She brushed it off, assuming he was just another eccentric in this city full of them. But a masked, mysterious stranger in a black truck? Right now, that sounded way better than the alley she was stuck in. Besides, she could take care of herself. Probably.

And then she saw it—a figure lurking across the street, watching her from the shadows, eyes flicking from her to his phone, and then back again. She swallowed, nerves prickling. She tried to ignore the feeling, but it lingered, crawling up her spine.

Suddenly, her fingers flew across the screen.

No reply.

She clenched her phone tighter, looking up and down the empty street, then glanced back at her screen. She could feel the rising urge to text him again and again, each message tinged with a touch more urgency.

Somewhere miles away, Simon glanced at his phone, his thumb hovering over the steering wheel. He’d put himself through hell and back in countless battlefields, facing down horrors most men would never imagine, but this? Being spammed by a random, drunk girl with a barrage of panicked messages? It was almost… comical.

What am I doing? he thought, irritation flickering under his mask. He was almost 40, practically ancient by some standards, and here he was, playing the knight in black armor for some stranger who probably didn’t even know her own last name right now.

Yet there he was, pressing down harder on the gas pedal.

The next text buzzed as he turned a corner.

The words ignited something in him, a familiar protective instinct that refused to let up. He gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing as he watched the road blur past. When he’d agreed to pick her up, it was because he didn’t trust her to make it home in one piece. He could tell she’d been drinking, and he had no patience for the kinds of creeps that lingered around clubs at this hour. But now…now it felt like a mission.

The final turn brought her into view—a small, unsteady figure with her back against a wall, clutching her phone like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to safety. And standing just a few feet away from her was the guy. Tall, with a slick smile and hands shoved in his pockets, like he had all the time in the world to wait her out.

Simon’s truck screeched to a halt, the dark engine purring like a beast as he glared through the windshield. He didn’t even need to get out; the guy’s eyes widened the moment the headlights hit him, and he took a few steps back, muttering something before disappearing into the shadows.

Simon killed the engine and got out, his towering figure partially hidden by the black mask over his face, and for a second, she stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Uh…Uber?” she said with a drunken giggle, half-nervous, half-relieved.

“Get in,” he muttered, shooting her a look as he opened the passenger door.

She clambered in, her expression melting from shock into something warm, a little playful as she buckled herself up. “Mr. Uber Driver… you’re my hero,” she slurred.

He grunted, barely acknowledging her. “Text me like that again, and I might just leave you next time.”

She smiled, eyes heavy-lidded, safe and sound in the passenger seat of his big, black truck.

[This is a first part]

[Part two here]

[missmoonfrost]

You're scared of me - a wolfstar short fic

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic and the prompt: The Forbidden Forest. But once again I failed to limit the word count to 1k...

Remus wakes up panting, with an acute sense of something being wrong. There is the familiar ache and nausea after the transformation. He is freezing cold. The wind blows around him and he reaches out after a blanket or something to cover himself with. His hands grab pine needles and damp moss. His eyes jolt open. This is not the shack.

He is alone in The Forbidden Forest. Completely bare under a leather jacket, spread over him like a blanket. Sirius’ jacket. As if that wouldn’t be enough to worry about, he has a gnawing feeling there is something more. Something worse.

He tries to sit up but doesn’t get far before a sharp pain in his back stops him. He manages to heave up on one elbow and get a look around. He doesn’t recognise it, as far as he knows he could be in the middle of nowhere.  There is a pile of fir twigs and dry grass underneath him and the canopy of brushwood shielding him has been enhanced with dense branches. Someone has built him shelter.

He hears the rustling of something big approaching. Fear overcomes the pain. Fire shoots through his back as he turns towards the sound. The sight of large teeth and dark fur makes his heart stop. He scrambles backwards before he realises it’s Padfoot. Relief floods him and with a big exhale he collapses down onto the little nest.

Padfoot yaps happily, lets go of the mouthful of branches he has been dragging along and immediately cuddles close to Remus, licking him and brushing his head against his body. Remus closes his eyes and weakly lays his arms around Padfoot. The dog presses his warm furry body against him. With a moment of concentrated stillness, he turns into Sirius.

“It’s okay”, he murmurs, “I’m here. You’re here. You’re awake. It’s going to be okay.”

Remus tightens his grip and buries his face against Sirius' shoulder.

“What happened?”

The tension in Sirius' chest and the fraction of a second longer than expected before he answers is enough for Remus to know. He has done something terrible.

“There were hikers in the woods. Muggles.”

Remus sits up despite the pain and pinches his eyes closed as hard as he can. No. Anything but that. Not biting some innocent soul and condemning them to this hellish fate.

“It’s okay.” Sirius hands rubs his back.

“It’s not okay!”

Sirius sighs and continues rubbing Remus' back in big calm circles.

“Did I…” Remus manages after a moment.

“You didn’t bite anyone. But they saw you. James and Peter stayed to calm things over. I chased you away.”

“Thank you.”

The wolf’s memory is always fussy, but Remus thinks he can recall the dog bouncing around, inviting him to play. The wolf usually likes that. But this time the dog had annoyed him and got in his way. He had been hunting something, trying to follow a scent.

That thought has him cold to his bones.

But the dog had not let him finish his hunt. It had lounged itself at him until he’d snapped at it and chased after it instead.

Remus puts his hand before his mouth. “Did I hurt you?”

“No”, Sirius reassures and tugs the sleeve of his T-shirt to cover something, “not much.”

“Let me see!”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his arm out. It’s a slash of claws, running down half his upper arm. The blood has dried, but there is the tell-tale shimmering tint of a magic wound. His claws made this.

“See? It’s nothing.”

“I could have bit you”, Remus gasps. The trees start spinning around him. Sirius, a damned werewolf because of him.

Sirius gently puts his arms around Remus back again, but he brushes him of.

“I could have bit you, Sirius!”

“But you didn’t.” Sirius looks into Remus' eyes and when Remus franticly looks around, Sirius moves his head catching his gaze again and holding it firm. “Hey! You didn’t.”

Remus is lightheaded and nauseous and feels like he is drowning. If he is going to drown anyway, he can as well drown in these caring honest silver eyes.

“Breath”, Sirius reminds him.

Remus takes a deep breath, and then another. The trees stop spinning. Sirius moves his hand as if to touch Remus’ back again, but then stops as if to ask permission. Remus can’t find the words but leans into his touch. Sirius' arms gently wrap around him. The warmth of the closeness is welcome in the cold. Remus lays his arms around Sirius' back as well. The smell in the crook of Sirius' neck is comforting. His steady breaths are soothing. His raven hair tickling Remus' cheek is uplifting.

Too soon Sirius draws back and looks examining at him.

“Can you walk?”

Remus tries to straighten up and the pain in his back returns. With a deep breath, he pushes through it and stands, only to tumble forward and get caught by Sirius in the last second.

“No. My back. It’s too much.”

“I would heal you, but my wand is still in the shack.”

The thought of Sirius leaving him here has his breath catch in panic.

“I’ll stay here with you”, Sirius reassures. “Everything will be all right.”

“How, though?”

“They will find us.”

“And do what? I am supposed to stay in the shack. They are going to expel me! They are going to put me in Azkaban!”

“Shh, calm down. We’ll figure it out.”

Remus closes his eyes and tries his best to calm down. Tries to focus on Sirius' voice, breaths, and heartbeats.

As he shifts closer to Sirius the breaths become irregular and the heartbeats speed up. For a moment Remus is confused, but then it dawns on him.

“You’re scared of me.”

Sirius scoffs. “No, I’m not.”

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” The drumming speeds up even more as well as Sirius' breath and he wets his lips.

“It’s okay.” Remus lets go of him and rolls over on the other side. “I realise it was scary. I was scary. You don’t have to pretend you like me. I am a monster after all.”

Sirius sits up. “You are not a monster. And you don’t realise how much I like you at all.”

Remus draws further away. “Keep saying that. I can still hear your heartbeat.”

Sirius' hand lands on his shoulder but he shrugs him off.

Sirius lets out a deep shaky breath and says in a small trembling voice. “Is that really so strange? Of course, my heart speeds up when I’m near you, you’re… Moony, you’re beautiful. And kind of naked. I like being near you.“

His heartbeats are faster than ever now, but other than that he doesn’t move. Remus rolls over to face him and sees him sitting with his hands clenched in his lap, cheeks flushed and eyes firmly set on the ground.

Remus slowly sits up and leans forward to try to catch Sirius eye.

“You… really?”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know how I can think of that when you're hurt, and we’re out here, and you just went through a big trauma. But believe me, it’s not because I’m scared.

For a long moment, Remus just sits there and marvels at the thought. Sirius Black, his friend and saviour, is attracted to him. Is he supposed to think that is weird? Sirius sure acts it is as if it’s something bad. It doesn’t feel bad. Not bad at all. Does that mean he is weird as well? Does that mean his fondness and adoration for Sirius is something it shouldn’t be?

That is too much to think about. All he knows is that Sirius' presence feels like a lifebuoy keeping him afloat. For now, that is enough.

Remus reaches a hand out and gently strokes Sirius' arm, from the shoulder down to the fingertips, and takes his hand. Sirius looks up with a questioning expression. Remus smiles, scoots closer and rests his head on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius puts Remus' hand in his other one, careful to never lose the grip, and throws his arm around Remus' back.

For the longest time, they just held each other, trying to stay as close as possible. When there’s a rustle in the bushes Sirius jolts and springs to his feet.

“There you are.” James relieved voice cuts through the branches. “Peter is distracting Madam Pomfrey, but we need to hurry back. Are you hurt?”

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ So I was listening to “They’re only human” Death note the musical and this come out of the brain so here you gremlins go! }~

🌌🌙The Solar🌙🌌

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If someone asked danny what he thought his life in the future would look like he would have said something like “Of course I will be an astronaut!” Or something to that effect

But what he did not expect was for him to have a protective and strong ass husband [Who is phantom and now the Ghost king and isn’t that something] with a little toddler who is 2 ( Dani who will be called dawn in this ) and a little protective toddler who is 4 (Dan who is called dusk) who he loves more than anything

And gain a ghost family who adores him (but for the price of another) who put up with his husband and adore him as well as spoil his Sun and Moon rotten

Now let’s see how this become as it has shall we?

====================================

Danny was having a bad day, first he almost miss class again [due to a mix of being to exhausted to get up on his on from fighting ghosts all night and with jazz being busy with college hunting so she couldn’t wake him up and his parents don’t even know what time he wakes up at for school]

Second Dash wouldn’t leave him alone and it was becoming hard to keep himself..well not really himself but recently he’s been feeling this that for a better word are not his to feel like when a ghost hit a bit to hard to feels rage and protectiveness wash over him anyway back to this.

Third Sam and Tucker were both out for separate reasons for Sam her parents had some kind of rich people thing to do and dragged her with them and tucker with his family were going to visit some relatives so yeah Danny had no one to hang out with.

Third apparently they had a test in English that nobody told Danny about so he knows he is going to fail that and some other things but it would get to long if we bought all that up but you get the point

So when Danny gets back home and all he wants to do is go to his room change into phantom and hug/chill himself out who is anyone to deny him [Like with the feeling feels that weren’t his, yeah he got the habit after a very bad day where his parents shot him in the back of the leg and it hurt bad so he hugged himself and apparently it was the right thing to do because he started to feel better! Not physically no it still hurt like a motherfucker but emotionally yes so he started to do that when ever he felt he needed comfort]

So Danny goes to his bedroom [not noticing the tall orange figure following him up] and closes the door [it was left ajar just enough for someone to look in] and changes into phantom but he hears the door open the door and he turns to see his dad looking at him

And the next thing he knows is a red hot pain coming from his side and blacks out

=====================================

It has been a week a long and painful week since his parents found out

After Jack [NEVER dad never again] he brought him down to the lab and tied him to a table and did…unspeakable things to him…have been doing this to him for a week

After two days Danny heard two more wails and he recognized the voices it was dan and Dani! [his children] and they were hurting them, Danny tired to get their attention to him to get them away from them but the damage was done and Dani and Dan went into their cores due to the damage but thank the ancients the cores were basically a undamageable and none of their weapons work on them

So that turns all their attention on him and how that would be their downfall [and the whole dimensions with them]

On day five is when Danny’s human “half” gives out due to no food or water and with the torture Maddie and Jack have inflicted on him it wasn’t really a surprise but what was when phantom and Danny unfazed and phantom was pissed they hurt Danny [his husband] they hurt Dani and Dan [his children] they weren’t getting of easy

So well they were fighting the now fully ghost Danny gets out from his restraints and grabs Dani and dans cores and pushes them inside him to heal them by essentially force feeding their cores clean ecto

Than phantom grabs him and pulls him fast to the portal and the go through and as they do they destroy the portal [not knowing that in doing that they let out all the built-up ecto and that essentially bombs the dimension taking everything with it]

And now that brings Danny here after healing and when the children cores got enough ecto that they could come out [as well as speed running a very loving relationship that is still going very strong]

And now Danny is very happy with his life now or well after-life

=====================================

~{ Now onto the DCU part! }~

When Damian got into a fight with father he expected to be benched as Robin for a few days or a week what he was not expecting was for father to assigned him to go and watch a warehouse that is known for not having been used for anything for longer than Damien himself has been alive [it’s due to a cult that hangs around there not that the bats know that]

So now here is Damien tide up in surprisingly good rope that he can not break free from in the middle of a summoning circle and waiting for the other to get here while the cultist surrounds the circle and start to speak in a language Damian does not understand and Damian doesn’t believe anything will happen

Until the summoning circle turns into a portal and Damian falls through as the others get there to help him

The last thing Damien remembers before he passes out is someone yelling after a while Damian wakes up in a bed…? A very soft large bed with a lot of space and as Damien takes in his surroundings he hears a door opening and as he turns his head to look he sees a tall man…? Woman? Person let’s go with that

They walk over to him and start cooing? At him and  fretting over him [✨Mom instincts✨] and stuff a few days? [time is weird Damian has found] and the person has started to bring him with them as they walk around [Danny wants the little child to get some air and cleaner Ecto] and he has met the person’s children who are named dusk and dawn respectively and they have taken him as their older brother he believes this is due to the person [who he now knows his name is Solar, it’s not just everyone calls him that due to his space obsession] calls him his Stars much like how he calls this children his Sun and Moon

And with meeting Solar with Dawn and Dusk it is a guarantee that Damien was to meet Solar infamous husband Phantom [who he has heard about from the whispers of some of the working staff] and it goes pretty well [not that Phantom can do shit to this child his husband has already taken him in as his own] so he lets the child stay for how long as he likes

Meanwhile with the Batfam

The Batfam are freaking TF out about where Damian is and is he safe OMG-

=====================================

~{ And that’s all I can really do with the DCU part I am very tired if you can’t tell and now onto the details! }~

Now for Danny outfit I’m thinking something like this

With this over coat

And for hair/hair ornaments

And for phantom you know the drill blue-greenish skin, white hair and pointy ears

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ And that is about it! Sorry if the last part is weird I am very tired and sleepy anyway I hope you guys like this and see you gremlins later byeeee }~

[hamsternella]

Second part of this one

Bill Cipher x Fem!Reader

cw: gore, bill is a warning by himself, mdni, yandere and obsessive behavior

''She's my wife! You're talking about my wife, Cipher!'' Ford ran his hands through his hair, feeling desperate. Disgust was driving him mad; fury was blinding him. ''You've crossed a boundary! You're a…''

''A monster, a madman, a sick man,'' Bill interrupted him lazily. ''Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot, thanks, Fordsy. Anyway, what do you say? Do we have a deal?''

Ford backed up a couple of steps, colliding with the edge of his desk behind him. His hand brushed against a statuette of Cipher himself; a figure of pure gold that weighed between his fingers as he lifted it into the air, eyes fixed on the demon. The latter shook his hand in denial. 'No, no. Don't even think about it.' But he did it anyway. He didn't even get to hit him—Bill had disappeared.

"Come back here, Bill!" cried the investigator in despair. "Don't you dare lay a hand on my wife again, Cipher!"

But all he received in response was a shrill laugh, and the blow of a warm breeze that made him stagger. The lights went out, and in the gloom the only thing that enveloped Ford was silence barely interrupted by his own breathing.

"My God," he whispered, "what have I done?"

After your talk with Bill, and the forced kiss that sealed an implied deal, your life becomes confusing and uncomfortable.

The demon had not stopped possessing your husband until the day you decided that enough was enough.

The limit was to have found him on you, forcing your petticoats with the hands of the man who was supposed to be your companion.

How were you supposed to know when it was Ford and not Bill? How could you let him kiss your lips with that sweetness, sometimes interspersed with the awkwardness of a need that already seemed alien to you?

When Ford found out about the situation you were acting so strange about, his fury is such that even you find yourself terrified of the human as you were of the demon.

They felt like one and the same entity. At this point you didn't know what to think about it.

Your relationship with your husband deteriorated considerably. It was easy to see how uncomfortable it made him to know that you and Bill had been intimate.

"Aren't we ever going to talk about it, then? Ford, I'm addressing the word to you..."

"I know," he interrupted you, the frustration palpable in his voice. "You've been saying the same thing every day, throughout every week; it's a regular thing come this point."

"Because we need to talk about it! For God's sake, Ford, you can't even stand to be in the same room with me anymore. Do you think this situation hasn't affected me too?"

You heard his footsteps coming towards where you were. You felt him in front of you, with his scent and his breathing altered into a choked growl. "Be honest with me, didn't you suspect at any time that that imitation wasn't me?"

"Ford, not again with this..." you sighed.

"Not again, you say? Not again, as if it were something upsetting to you," he exclaimed. "Oh, well, perhaps it is—perhaps because things happened there that I don't know about. More things I don't know—I don't want to know. Terrible things, lots of secrets hidden from me, your husband!"

"Are you serious, Stanford? You're coming at me with such audacity!" You had risen from your seat, colliding immediately with your husband's chest. His hands took you by surprise; a shove brought you back to the world as you hit the table at your side. "Ford! What's wrong with you, God..."

"This is all wrong! This is all terrible!" he shouted. Moments later there was silence. It took your husband some time to regulate his own breathing. "Whole weeks... being possessed by a creature I thought was my friend, my companion. Days believing I was falling into madness; the darkness of a confused dream enveloping me, devouring my senses... all of me. All of me! My works, my researches, my wife! He dared to possess my woman!"

"So that's what I am to you," you hastened to add. "Just your woman. That's what this irrational outburst of yours is all about, Stanford."

"It's everything! This is about everything! For God's sake, woman, understand. He's taken everything from me—he's trying to make it, and he's closing in on me by leaps and bounds... He's wanted to ruin my life completely and you don't understand! You can't be so selfish!"

"Who's being selfish here, when you were the scoundrel hiding a demon under our feet! This was all started by you, Stanford! And you never told me the truth!" You covered your face for a moment, sighing faintly. "You let him take your body and walk around the house; you kept me ignorant of your true plans while to him you built a shrine."

"How did you..."

"He told me," you interrupted him coldly, "as usual. Because of course I have to find out what's going on in my own house from a demon. Same demon who, by the way, got into our room to try to molest me!"

"You could have told me that in the first place! Things don't magically escalate."

"Excuse me? What are you trying to tell me?"

His silence confirmed the shame that had overwhelmed him by his own words.

"I'm talking to you, Ford."

"You should have told me. You allowed him direct entry."

"I don't think I gave him that much power," you shook your head. "Not like you gave it to him, Ford, with your portals and your 'insignificant' studies."

"I didn't mean to."

"And you think it was my intention to have him on top of me?"

"For God's sake—this is not about you!"

"It's never about me! Nothing is ever about me, your very wife, Ford!" You held back the heart-rending cry in your throat, until the other words snatched it from you. "I could have been raped that night and you didn't care! That thing has kissed me, touched me while in your body, and what affects you most is losing your portal! Please, Stanford, please, I beg you to understand!"

You stretched out your arms in a desperate attempt to cling to your husband's shirt. You knew where he was when you brushed against his body; there your hands rested, fingers digging like daggers into his arms. Your voice was barely a whisper corrupted by pain and despair.

"I gave up everything for you," you continued, "even my hobbies, my friends and my family. I believed in you like no one ever has; I sacrificed time, sweat and tears on your journey to glory... All for you. Always for you. When will there be something for me? When will I have a family of my own? When will I have a nice home? When will I feel safe?" you weighed a couple of raw ideas at the back of your mind. "When will I feel safe with you, Ford. You're supposed to be my husband..." you sobbed.

"I need you to understand," he whispered back. "Please, honey. I need you to."

"I'm tired of understanding things I don't know," you shook your head, possessed by crying. "You let that thing into this house. You gave your body, your mind... your wife."

"I would never allow him to lay a hand on you!"

"He's done it already!" you shouted back. "He's already done as much damage as you have, Ford! You're just like that! Unsatisfied, cruel creatures; eager to carry more than your arms can carry. He may be able to make it. Not you, Ford. And that's your problem—yourself. You're selfish, self-centered..."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"... and I begin to believe that I have been a victim of that victorious perversity that consumes you when you get something that others want and can't. But you could! And now you want more! More of what you shouldn't, of that which you can't have."

"I can have it! I'm capable! You know it; you've heard me achieve it."

"Thanks to him. And everything has a price in life, Stanford. Who says I'm not that now?"

The laughter that your husband dismissed hurt your soul.

"It's not that simple. He couldn't want you for... I don't understand. Why would he want you for something like this? I don't get it. Why would he want you in exchange for something like this? What do you figure here, but a sack of meat like me?"

"I don't know, you tell me," you shrugged. "Why do you want me, Ford? What do you think I possess, beyond a hole for you to fuck when you're stressed? Do you consider me to have value? Maybe you think I'm a stupid bitch—"

"Don't talk about yourself like that!" he interrupted you, sounding hurt. "One thing has nothing to do with the other here, right now."

"I think it has a lot to do with when your pride outweighs your wife's honor and safety. Does that title do any good? Perhaps the term 'maid' paints a better picture, considering how much you hold me in high regard as a person."

"Stop it."

"And that's all you have to say."

Life feels empty when your marriage suddenly seems like a sham.

You no longer consider Ford a company that provides you with security; now you are truly on your own.

The world is scary.

And this is where he comes to save the day.

More or less, let's assume.

Bill takes this opportunity to start filling your head with hallucinations. You can't escape them.

Your husband is a nightmare that whispers lies in your ear, which later become truths the more you think about them.

Cipher doesn't show up in your dreams until months later, when your husband is at his worst peak of stress and paranoid episodes.

The demon is much more kind, caring and receptive to you than ever before; even manipulating your brain to reproduce his figure in your mind.

At last you meet Mr. Cipher.

"But look who it is! The protagonist of this beautiful story of bloody, forbidden visceral romance from...! Oh, forget it. The title is too long."

The triangle levitates around you with its golden glow. Its edges are sharp; it has only one eye, and it wears a galley and a staff that seems to have a life of its own, far away from you, circling in the air. It is black, just like the galley and the slender limbs of the beast.

The laughter is as loud as ever. For a moment it brings you peace. It's the same—nothing has changed nor is a lie. It's just Bill.

"That's me! Yes, ma'am." Its figure reappears in front of you, with one of its small hands resting on your cheek. "My pronouns are call/me/Bill; but I also go by he/him."

"Are you reading my mind?"

"Oh, you little bag of muscle and nerves! We're in your mind," he laughed. "By the way, you should be nicer to me."

"I don't have to be nice to you," you replied. "You've ruined my life."

"Ruin your life, you say! Oh, no, my dear, but I haven't done anything!" His hand moved away from you, returning to his back as he entwined it with the other. His eye narrowed for a moment; he was fascinated. "But didn't you mean, rather, your husband's life? Isn't it the same as yours?"

"Is that, you suppose, a comment to hurt me?"

"Hurting you is one of my last thoughts when I think of you," he said. "And believe me: I think about you a lot."

"I don't want to know what kind of things."

"And you do very well not to want to!"

Another shrill laugh pierced your ears like a needle. The sound settled painfully in your brain.

"Oh, my dear! So beautiful and so pitifully silly," he sighed. "How I've missed you."

"I find it rather disturbing the way you address me. Especially after the accident..."

"That night!" he interrupted you; so fascinated that his yellow color darkened into a kind of still luminous blush. "Perhaps I was a little thrilled by the tenderness of your flesh—how your heart throbbed! An organ pumping warm blood, under that weak skin."

The triangle was suddenly in front of you. His eye wide open.

"The way your muscles tensed in your face," he continued, "with each eye wide open, as if you could just see me. No need to when you can feel me, little one. And how did that feel? How did you feel under the rough warmth of hands on the smooth skin of your belly?"

"While you were using my husband!" you cried out in shame. "You forced yourself on me with my husband's body. You are a..."

You bit your lip, holding back the string of insults that were about to hang from your mouth. Bill narrowed his eye, humming an unfamiliar tune.

"I'm a... what? Say it, come on!"

"Just shut up," you growled. "Shut your mouth—whatever you use to talk. Shut it."

"A little bird told me something very interesting. I'm sure you want to know! I know you do!"

You covered your face, using your hands to stifle a frustrated scream that could barely overshadow Bill's animated narration. His voice was penetrating your head, which was funny to think about considering the two of you were in your mind; there was no way his voice wasn't getting through to you being in a place like this. There was no escape possible.

"Oh! Yes, that's right," he pointed out with his cane. "You can't wake up until I decide."

"That's crazy!"

"I guess... Whatever! You want to play a game of chess for which you might lose something very valuable to you when I cheat?"

"Of course not!" You rubbed both hands together, trying to stop the trembling all over your body. "Ford will notice I'm not in the kitchen; I always make breakfast. He'll notice, won't he?"

"Dear, are you asking me or are you losing your senses?"

"Isn't it the same?" you turned to look at him, narrowing your eyes. "Wondering something to you, losing my mind—isn't it the same thing?"

Bill rolled his eye, dropping his cane in the air again. "What a mood! Too many gentlemen on this world for so few ladies—"

"What do you want?" you interrupted him. There was no answer. You took a deep breath as you met his gaze upon you; too much intensity, with his figure levitating slower and slower. "Bill, please, is there something you want? Because I can't give it to you. You should talk it over with Ford, like always" you muttered.

"Something I want," he repeated. "Maybe I wasn't very clear with you. In the olden days new romantic prospects used to murder the current spouse. You want that? So freaky, grr—"

"What the fuck are you talking about! My God," you swallowed the string of insults hanging from your throat. "Cipher, let me go right now. Go and talk to my husband and do together whatever it is you have in mind. Leave me alone!"

"I tried to talk to Fordsy about you," rushed the demon defensively, "but I don't think he liked certain details... My bad, I admit it! There are always second chances—although with him we'd be going for number three hundred and twenty something, I think... I don't know, I don't care! Hey, you really don't want to play chess with me?"

"You told him about that night," you whispered. Tears began to tickle your cheeks without your noticing them. "You told him first and he never... Ford never told me—he never told me about it..."

"And then he made you feel terrible about it," he laughed. "How crazy is Fordsy. And what's with all that pushing and shoving this last week? Didn't you see it coming? Ha! Get it? Because you're totally blind—"

"I can't wail and cry if I hear your shitty voice."

"Oh, come on! It's not my fault your husband is a deranged madman. There are lots of fish in the ocean, did you know that? Lots and lots... Lots, really... Then there's me, who's better," he pointed to himself, shrinking his eye in a smile. "I mean, uh, a god, technically."

"A demon."

"Very soon a god," he corrected you.

You frowned, forcing a smile as you said, "But you're still a demon. One trapped far away from our world, aren't you? What assures you that you're going to be anything more than that, when Stanford no longer believes in you?"

"The last thing I care about is your husband," Bill narrowed his eye. "Beyond that, could it be that you're testing me?"

"Testing you?"

"If I can get out of here, if I can catch you anywhere, anytime," he continued, "does that mean I win?"

"For you everything is a game. A demon at the end of the day."

Bill's shrill laughter pierced your ears again. This time you found him in front of you in the blink of an eye; closer, more attentive.

"Does that mean I win?" he whispered. "Because I believe I can have you whenever I want, wherever I want—this is just a taste of my power."

"This is a sign of what a monster you are," you replied in kind. "Ford will not allow you to go beyond your dimension—"

"Fordsy couldn't stop me all those times I messed with you," the demon interrupted you, suddenly surly at the mention of your husband. "It's almost like he doesn't care. Anyway, that brainiac is going to fail sooner or later, and there's no corner of the universe where you can hide your head. I'll be there, in your dreams; and I'll be here, where you don't see me. Everywhere I'm going to be, dear little flesh bag."

"Don't fucking call me that!"

"Nuh-uh!"

You opened your mouth, ready to pour over his expectant eye a couple more insults, but the lack of your own voice led you to wrap both hands around your neck. You thought you were piercing flesh with your fingernails; you caressed muscle, you smeared yourself with blood. You wanted to scream, terrified, alone in the middle of an empty, dark space, but the only response to the nervous silence of your panic attack was another thunderous laugh.

Everything was suddenly red. Red and painful. A sharp stab of pain shot through your body from your throat, and with a shocking jolt you fell to your knees, drowning in your own blood. Warm, viscous, thick. You closed your eyes, too disgusted with the spectacle of intense sensations assaulting your senses, and let yourself be carried away by the spasms that seemed to go on forever. You barely felt him on you.

When you opened your eyes, overcome by another intense, hot sensation, you found Bill leaning over you. His yellow color had migrated to a deep black; red edges like your blood, glowing, and with the same wide-open, watchful eye. You noted with another kind of horror that same morbid charm in his gaze—the ravenous hunger of a natural hunter.

You shook your head, barely moving your lips in a faint 'please'.

"I missed this," he said. "I missed you. It's strange... this feeling, I mean—it's kind of weird. It's unpleasant. But when I finally have you again, when I can touch you, I can see you, I can hear you, that awful feeling goes away; it disappears and I feel good again. I feel better. It's strange, like I told you."

One of his limbs brushed against the bleeding wound on your neck. The nightmare was compounded by the pressure of his fingers playing with your flesh.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "If you could see yourself. I don't think you'd understand. It would be fun, anyway. See you cry, make you scream," he laughed. "You know, the usual. Stanford makes you cry a lot, doesn't he? He hurts you."

It took you a while to respond, but you were able to give him a nod.

"Everything he does is a product of my own genius," Bill continued. "I'm better. A hell of a lot better. This is just beginning; there's more to this than I've shown you now. A lot more. But that's all right! We have all the time in the world. Lots of nights, lots of dreams. Opportunities, my pretty little bag of nerves."

His limb moved away from your wound, wrenching another spasm from your body. You couldn't take your eyes off the way the demon was spewing a long, slimy tongue from the strip below his eye, starting from the socket. Another repulsive limb. The flesh of your body disappeared in what was a light taste of your own flavor. You noticed the fascination in his small figure; the tremor of ecstasy bursting the moment.

"Fordsy would be delighted to know this," Bill said, squinting his eye. "You think we should tell him?"

'We?' Your own mind gave you away.

"I'm asking for your opinion! That's what couples do, right?"

Silence. Bill let out a sigh; his yellow color back with a particular glow.

"Whatever," he shrugged, "I don't think he'll mind. This may be our little secret." He approached you, levitating gently. "As for you, beautiful little waste, I hope to see you in a better mood soon. There's so much to do! So many things to talk about. Our plans ahead, of course—the big moment. What a thrill!"

Your eyes began to close. The pain gradually, gently subsided. It was getting harder and harder to hear Bill chattering.

"... portal, and the... But maybe a crazy... you and me, of..."

Before you faced the impending total darkness, Bill's intense gaze invaded your mind. This time you stopped listening to him. In spite of that, a new sharp pang of pain pierced your head; it upset you completely, as one who feels disarmed at the discomfort of their own body, and made you wake up again. This time there was no yellow demon in front of you. There was nothing, directly. Not that nothing of one whose eyes are covered—but that kind of empty expectation, typical of the blind.

'Returned home,' you thought with a sigh.

The morning was quiet, but not calm. Bill's nightmare had left you jittery, with tremors and a nagging itch in your neck. A sick kind of paranoia kept you standing between the bedroom and the bathroom, unable to go any further. It was the murmur of timid footsteps downstairs that made you make the decision: tell Ford, give him the chance again. Who else did you have in the world but him?

You walked down the stairs with the itch in your neck increasing as your husband's silence to your calls did. At a certain point, and with madness tearing tears from your eyes, you ended up tripping over an obstacle on the floor where you thought the living room was. You rested your hands as soon as you felt the blow of the air like a whip; the pain came seconds later, along with the roughness of a jacket.

Ford did not wear such jackets.

You pushed your fingers against the leather, dragging your nails along the inner fur. You felt the coolness of some pins, and maybe found a couple of holes.

"Ford?"

"He's not here."

A man's broken voice took you by surprise. You jumped up, fell back down, and began to crawl backwards across the floor. You forgot about the pain and itching in your neck.

"Who are you?! What did you do to my husband—"

"Just... just a moment! Please!" The voice broke even more, as if choked with an inevitable cry. "You said husband—you must be her, I mean, his girl. His wife. Logically, isn't it?" an unfunny laugh broke through his words. "Please, I'm not here to do anything bad..."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

Silence. A long one, interrupted by a couple of accelerated breaths.

"Stanley," the man replied. "I'm Stanley Pines. I'm Stanford's brother."

"He doesn't... No, because he doesn't have a brother. You are lying to me—"

"Are you blind?"

This time the silence came from you.

"I didn't think... Sorry, I didn't get a good look at you," he rushed back. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Stanley Pines," you said, "is that really your name? Stanford never told me about you." You craned your neck, gathering as much air as you could. "Stanf—"

"He's not here."

"What do you mean? Did he go out or something? Again," you sighed.

Silences were commonplace at this point. You had time to stand up with the help of the supposed Stanley. You let him guide you to an armchair, allowing him as much freedom as a tired woman could allow a man this robust. You tried not to let fear blind your senses.

If he was inside the house, it meant he hadn't set off any traps. Was he telling the truth?

"Did Ford tell you where he went?" you insisted in the absence of an answer. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"I don't think he..." a heavy, shaky sigh. "Sorry, but I think Stanford—I don't think he can come, today, at least..."

"What do you mean?"

But you didn't need a clear answer. Stanley was still talking, saying things very unimportant to you; and yet there was something special that leapt into your mind along with the memory of a thunderous laugh. The word 'portal' throbbed in rhythm with your heart, leaving in its wake a trail of horror from which a couple of tears were born. Only then did you return to the world—along with Stanley's hand caressing your back.

"I'm really sorry," he continued in a soft cry. "I didn't mean to, I swear..."

"Through the portal?"

"It was too fast, and... and then we pushed each other a lot, and there was screaming—"

"Then I guess he's not coming back," you sighed shakily, interrupting him. "Ford's not coming back. My God..."

"I'm going to fix that thing. You have my word."

The image of Bill in your dreams quickly jumped into your memories. You reached desperately for Stan's hands, taking them in yours. You stared into the void, hoping to behold his face of -possible- intrigue.

"You can't touch that thing!" you exclaimed in warning. "Stanley, you can't go near that portal, please. You have no idea what's in store for us on the other side."

"My brother is trapped in there! God, woman, your own husband!"

"This is beyond him right now!"

His hands released yours; a push let you know that he had risen from your side.

"You're crazy," he growled. "As crazy as he is. Just a crazy couple!"

"You have no idea what this is, Stanley Pines... You have no idea. You haven't the faintest idea. Am I crazy? Do you think I've lost my mind? I think you saw Ford very well; I'd like to think there's something of him in you—that you understand why I'm this way. Whose fault is it!"

"Your husband could be dead and you just go around attributing blame!"

"Our lives are at stake! Good Lord, Stanley, you have no idea what it was like to live with him!"

The image of Bill wouldn't leave your head. At this point you didn't know if you were thinking of Ford, or the triangular demon.

"I'm going to fix that fucking machine," Stanley spat angrily, "and I'm not going to let some crazy woman stop me over a couple of superstitions. I've had enough of that with Stanford. I want my brother back, and I'm going to get him. Whatever it takes."

You heard his footsteps walk away from the room, and seconds later a slamming door vibrated through your bare feet. Until then you hadn't felt the cold seeping into your sensitive flesh. Nothing seemed to matter enough to you.

It wasn't about Ford anymore; now you had to deal with the nervous insanity of his so-called brother. Could it get even worse?

Maybe.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Please I beg u, I am in desperate need of jealous Poe! 😭😩🤧 can be fo! or resistance, doesn't matter. No pressure ofc!!

Ooh! I'ma go with Resistance Poe because FO!Poe would probably just kill that person and punish reader for not telling that individual off lol.

Not on my watch

Poe Dameron x fem!reader

Wanna get tagged?

Summary: The new recruit was flirting with you. Poe did not like that.

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, jealous and possessive Poe, p in v, oral (fem! receiving).

The new recruit who had just been at the base a couple of days, was helping you out of your X-Wing, grasping your hand gently, too gentle in his hand, looking at you with lovesick expression.

"Thanks." you gave a friendly smile.

"You're welcome. Gotta say, didn't expect some pilots to be as gorgeous as you." he winked, having no intentions of releasing your hand yet.

Both of you were unaware of BB-8 zipping around nearby, catching that guy's obvious flirtation with you.

He gestured towards your helmet. "Oh, mind me holding that for you?" without waiting for your answer, he unclasped and gently moved it off from your head.

Suddenly BB-8 rolled up beside you, tilting its dome up and beeping curiously at you.

Just a second later, a familiar voice boomed through the hangar.

"Hey, you there!"

Poe approached you both, already looking displeased.

"That's your helmet?" Poe asked, his voice was filled with venom but he kept calm.

The recruit just smiled. "No, it's her helmet. I thought I'd be a gentleman for our pretty pilot."

Poe stared him down, his blood boiling up. "Well, I don't know if it works that way, buddy."

"And who are you?" The recruit scoffed, turning to face Poe, still grasping your helmet in his hands.

"Who do you think I am, recruit?" Poe tested him, arching his brow up.

The recruit scrutinized Poe, his eyes widened in realization as he spotted the rank tag.

"Oh, you're the com–"

"Yeah, the commander, that's right." Poe nodded, putting his hands on his hips.

The recruit literally swallowed down his cockiness and ego.

"Sorry about that, sir, I-I won't bother you again.." he stammered, handing you back your helmet then turned to leave, giving off how exposed and embarrassed he is.

Poe turned his attention to you. "Who was that guy?"

"A new recruit apparently." you shrug.

Poe arched his brow up once more. "And you let that guy get you out of your cockpit and almost pamper you?"

"I did not let him– wait, how do you know that?"

"BB-8 saw everything."

BB-8 confirmed Poe's statement with a proud beep.

"Anyways, you showed him his place. He won't annoy me anymore."

Poe cracked a cocky smile. "Yeah I did," he nods, then his demeanor turned more serious "and later I will show you yours too."

Not sure if you've heard him correctly, you blinked at his words. "Excuse me?" you gave a confused smile.

Poe's cocky smile turned into a grin. "I know you heard me, baby."

"Poe, it was just a recruit not knowing where his place was until you showed up." you giggle.

Poe looked around to see if he could catch the recruit again, seeing him carrying a crate, then stepped closer to you, leaning in for a hug, making sure to make it obvious so the guy would look.

Once Poe saw the recruit looking, both of his hands slid down your back to cup your ass, giving a soft squeeze.

"Well, he tried charming the wrong person. You're my girl, nobody gets to pamper her except me." he whispered into your ear, glancing back at the recruit, who's mouth was agape.

Seeing that reaction from the recruit, Poe couldn't help but smirk before he upped the game by planting kisses along the side of your neck.

"Poe, we're in the hangar." you chided softly but unable to hide the smile.

Only now did Poe pull away. "I know. Gotta make sure everyone knows who you belong to, right?" he smirked.

Later that day, Poe stormed into your quarters, sparing no second to get you undressed on the bed and on top of you.

"Baby, imagine that prick seeing me worshipping you rightnow."

Poe licks his way downwards your stomach, your belly, making you squirm and buck up as he changes his way to your inner thigh.

"You still can't get that guy out of your head?" you chuckle.

Poe smirks against your skin. "After all he was flirting with my girl, of course."

"You're being ridiculous–"

He didn't gave you another second, latching his mouth onto your dripping hole, sucking and licking until it was impossible for you to think straight.

"Maybe I am." he mumbled against you, dipping his tongue inside as far as possible. Then looked up, seeing your beautiful face contorted into pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles were white.

Poe smirked, knowing he had you where he wanted you - underneath him, with the only thing on your mind being the pleasure he's giving you.

You got ripped out of the intense feeling he gave you when he abruptly stopped, making you whine at the loss, only so Poe could free himself.

Poe got between your legs, aligning his dick with your hole and leaning down to your ear.

"But hey, sometimes it's my job to make sure people know you're mine."

He started thrusting into you, slowly at first to get you riled up some more, increasing his movements as your moans got needier.

Suddenly Poe stopped, his mouth went next to your ear, letting you feel his hot breath against your skin.

"Tell me you're mine, sweetie..." he whispered huskily.

Your mind couldn't really comprehend what he just said due to you still being numb from all the ecstasy.

"W-what- wait what?" you gasp, bucking your hips up to get some desperate friction.

Poe chuckled lowly, thrusting into you all the way until he was fully sheathed, then proceeds to grind his pelvis against you, driving you mad with pleasure, then stopping again.

"Come on, baby," in a tortuously slow movement, he started thrusting again, knowing it will make your mind go blank "say it."

"P-Poe, you're killing me!" you whine, but it sounded more like a moan.

"That's not what I wanted you to say, honey." Poe chuckled, figuring you must be close due to your desperation.

You bucked your hips again, feeling your peak approaching. "I'm yours, Poe. All yours." you blurt out, your imminent orgasm made you sound so desperate.

Poe grins, starting to pound into you, sending your mind spiraling. "There you go, baby." he pants, his movements got sloppier with every thrust.

You came first, with Poe only a second behind before he released himself into you.

With both of you laying on the bed together afterwards, you couldn't help but ask. "Did you calm down now?"

Poe took you into his arms. "No chance, sweetie." he chuckled, giving you a lingering kiss. "If I catch that prick flirting with you again then I don't know what I will do."

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

With this fic I'd like to introduce my very new taglist! :)

No pressure, only if you're interested! <3

@nekoyin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[akutasoda]

the fans are always right. right?

synopsis - mr reca seemed a bit more downbeat then your used too, maybe some rather interesting reviews would cheer him up

includes - reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.6k

a/n: i uhh had an idea... lost it and tried to salvage what i remembered and this was the result- anyway all the reviews used were given to me by some lovely people ( @tragedy-of-commons, @singularity-sam, @vxnuslogy, @mikashisus, @/milksnake-tea, @/tetrachrxmacy and @theother-victoria) try and guess who's who :))

a huffed sigh escaped you, slouching down in your chair as the clock ticked rhythmically in the background. mr reca was supposed to meet you around fifteen minutes ago. he'd never been late before.

a reasonable explanation would be that he had something more important to tend to. and that would be understandable. but for now you were bored out of mind and leaving wasn't an option as reca could show up at any time - he probably wouldn't be as forgiving if you were to show up after him.

today you two were meant to develop a new script and start on the storyboard for his latest idea. in honesty, you're still not quite sure how you landed this job. you wanted to start getting into directing films of your own but couldn't quite place how to start and so you settled for finding a job as a co-director.

after helping co-direct a few pieces here and there, you got a message from the esteemed mr reca. you had to do a couple (maybe even hundreds…) of checks to make sure you weren't actually dreaming. mr reca didn't exactly strike you as the kind of person to need or even want a co-director.

and yet here you were. apparently he enjoyed the sense of style you breathed into the films you helped direct and thought it would pair nicely with a couple of his. even to this day you find it hard to believe that you still had this job.

but you put your all into it. a lot of trust and expectation was placed upon you and you would be sure to not let him down. even if that meant waiting for him to show up for your appointed meetings.

twenty minutes.

you looked around the room for anything to pass the time, all you could think of was your phone laid idly on the desk. then an idea crossed your mind. reca had recently released a film. perhaps you could read some reviews to pass the time.

you never really expected yourself to be mentioned in any of them. yes you got credits and the recognition for being reca's personally selected co-director but most people still only talked about him in their reviews, which wasn't exactly a problem.

it didn't take long to find a rather reputable review page and so you began scrolling.

you should've expected the first one being a five star review

@bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "This film has changed my life. My whole outlook on everything that exists in this world, in fact even in the entire universe. I can never look at anything I know the same way ever again. This film represents emotions most humans could never comprehend. But I can. Thanks to this film I have been awakened to many things previously thought unimaginable. Thank you."

a rather extreme opinion in your eyes, reca did have some “over-the-top” fans. your became intrigued after stumbling across a one star review soon after

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐

- "what ?"

[review has been deleted]

maybe it wasn't an actual review, but you stifle a laugh at the next review being from the same person

⭐

- "wrong movie how do i delete a review" (Edited)

perhaps this could definitely entertain you until reca arrived. you idly scrolled through the reviews, only stopping when some peaked your interest or made you smile

@seas_ablaze : ⭐⭐⭐

- "A film that does a lot of monkey business and goes bananas with it."

or alternatively,

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "i've seen about a million movies and dear god this has to be one of the worst. an absolute slog to get through. the pacing was awful, everything took years to happen. the soundtrack was grating. the actors either put no effort in or way too much- either put them back on the street or send them back to the musical theater. the cinematography was dull at best and straight up nauseating at worst- i had to pause multiple times so i didn't get physically ill. and don't get me STARTED on the stilted script and dull characterization. and the dog isn't even a weenie."

you reckon they might have gotten the wrong film again… but it definitely explained the username-

and at that moment reca finally showed up, he pushed open the doors grumbling something - obviously whatever kept him busy wasn't pleasant. he had walked in with a huff and his expression didn't exactly read that of happiness.

you brushed it off and greeted him like you usually would, something that was greeted with another grumble which you could only guess was a hello of sorts towards you.

watching, you noted how he slumped into the chair on the other side of the desk and it became clear that he wasn't in the mood to get any work done. the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and so you slid your phone over to him, reviews still open.

reca perked one eyebrow up and questioned you “what's this about? we have duties to complete not waste time”

you hummed in response before sliding your phone closer until he picked it up “it's reviews from your latest film, it's not like we'll be getting things done soon and maybe they could help guide our planning” a small pause “they're quite entertaining”

he scrolled for a bit before stopping on one and reading it out loud

@/blink!vxnus! : ⭐⭐⭐⭐

- "film was great and very informative. it made the story far more interesting compared to other documentaries tackling the same story. - 1 because mr reca wasn't in the actual film"

“it's not very helpful, just compliments” he sighed “and wishful fans being normal”

you smiled in response before reaching over as he turned the phone to you and scrolling back up again “this one's a personal favorite, especially the comments”

@/bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "came for the reca shirtless scene, stayed for the storytelling. no regrets stan robin"

- @/ultimate_recakisser : "I mean I’d be the same as well I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT Speakingofshirtlessrecaifoujdthisonefanartdoesanyonewantmetosendit?"

- @/bebe_fanpage101 : "me. dms. shhh."

- @/iwishsundaywasmywife : "id judge u both. but. im the same way abt bird man so i cant"

reca stared at the review, then the comments, before his face began morphing into something akin to the middle point of shock and disgust.

he sighed “there wasn't even a shirtless scene, these people are… enthusiastic, to be nice”

you hummed in response before suggesting that the lower rated reviews may help more and scrolled until you found some.

@/iwishsundaywasmywife : ⭐

- "Great movie. Plot flows well, characters are charismatic and overall a wonderful viewing experience. Just hate the director."

@/abardslyre : ⭐

- "my gf broke up with me for the director. mr reca count ur ******* days."

you had to hold back laughter at the sight of his face distorting into confusion and a slight grimace making the corner of his lips scowl

@/seas_ablaze : ⭐

- "This is awful, pretentious garbage. In all objective fact, he's an auteur wannabe who makes idiotic movies for the normie audiences who are too stupid to think for themselves. I didn't even watch more than five minutes of it, I just know it's bad from his name attached to it. I never made a movie before or have ever taken a film class, but even I could do better than this disgrace of an art form that only a few can ever hope to master. Hell, I would personally kill all subpar directors myself if I could, I'm just that smart. As Lord Scorsese says: Cinema is dead!"

mr reca sighed, deeply, “i can't decide if this helped or not, but im leaning no at the minute”

you definitely could say you enjoyed scrolling through the reviews more, but it wasn't hard to notice how his demeanor changed. how he wasn't so grumpy and you could've sworn that at one point you'd seen a smile on his face. your idea worked.

eventually you two managed to start discussing ideas - which was more him talking your ear off with his ideas and you listening and writing down anything he told you to. and then he paused.

before you even had the chance to question if anything was the matter, reca surprised you “maybe those reviews could help for the next film”

“what do you mean?” you couldn't believe what you were hearing, your spur of the moment idea to show him reviews to hopefully boost his mood so you could both actually talk about his next film properly worked. it actually gave him ideas.

reca prattled on about how some of the reviews gave him the idea for how to expand his latest idea that had hit a wall and now he could continue to elaborate the idea. it was sort of satisfying to see how passionate he had become despite his earlier attitude.

he then abruptly stopped before trailing off “maybe i should listen to some of those reviews and change genres”

you thought that was a rather drastic suggestion, arguing that his current genres worked perfectly fine and it was his speciality, his signature if you would. but then he started mumbling again

“maybe if we went that route… then you could…” he was trailing off, you could barely piece together his coherent sentence but you could pick up on “based on us”

“what? could you repeat that again mr reca?”

“what?”

mr reca was never easy to work with.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Quite a Workout -Oneshot

Word count: 890

*angsty*

“Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by your own dick I wouldn’t have to put myself in the line of fire for you,” Y/N shouted back at him as she set up the equipment for her next exercise.  After a rough mission she felt the need to get out her leftover stress in the gym.

Bucky huffed angrily.  “Will you stop bringing up my boner?  Jesus, it’s not like I have any control over that.”

“Obviously,” Y/N snorted.  “During the middle of a mission while we’re dodging bullets and fighting for our lives?  You’ve got great timing.”  

Bucky glared at her before rolling his eyes and starting to walk away.  “Whatever.  I may have had an ill timed boner, but you were looking there, darlin’.”  

“Oh please,” Y/N laughed as she got situated on the bars.  She had been working on her captain’s chair leg raises, wanting to strengthen her core muscles.  She engaged her core and slightly grunted as she lifted her legs to a sitting position, most of her weight being held up by her arms and offset by her stomach muscles.  “What turned you on in the middle of a fight anyway, huh?  You like the danger?”  Her voice was strained as she held the position for a ten count then let her legs down.  “You’re sick.”

Bucky whirled back around and walked up to her as she started another set.  “I’m sick?  Says the one who was staring at my cock in the middle of choking out another dude with your thighs.”

Y/N smirked in triumph at his slip up as she let her legs back down, breathing heavily.  “Ah, so it was my thighs, huh?” she said knowingly, slightly leaning towards him with narrowed eyes.  “You liked watching me snuff out some guy with my thick, strong thighs?”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he slightly recoiled, blinking rapidly as Y/N laughed again.  She took another breath and started another set, lifting her legs up in a sitting position.  “You’re sadistic,” Bucky said as he watched her.  “You like humiliating others, even during their most vulnerable moments?  If anyone’s sick, it’s you.”  Y/N huffed, trying to keep count in her head and ignore him, her stomach starting to tremble at the effort.  “You drive me insane,” Bucky sneered, leaning toward her, dipping his head to catch her eye.  Y/N could tell that she’d really pissed him off, the fire in his eyes making a shiver run down her spine.  “I’m gonna ask for a mission partner reassignment.  I really thought as we worked together we could get past this weirdness, but apparently it’s one of God’s greatest jokes to make you just as insufferable as you are hot, you sick, twisted, sadistic, fucking bitch!”

Y/N wasn’t sure what happened next.  His words were hurtful, but for some reason the louder and angrier he got, the more turned on she was.  At the end of her ten count in her head she had felt the trembling in her stomach seemingly shoot down in between her legs, and as he finished yelling at her she relaxed her legs to stand and what felt like a mini orgasm rocked through her lower half.  She shuddered at the feeling, her mouth dropping open as she gasped and then moaned loudly in Bucky’s face as she felt a gush of her own slick dampen her panties and her leggings.

Bucky’s eyes widened comically at her, his eyes traveling down her body to see her shaking legs and twitching stomach.  His gaze moved back up to her face in shock.  “Did you just–”

“Don’t,” Y/N said desperately, her voice sounding like a whimper.  She averted her gaze from him and on wobbly legs ducked under the machine and around him, running out of the gym.  That did not just happen.  That did NOT just happen!  She kept running, losing track of where she was going until she ducked into an empty stairwell somewhere, doubling over and sobbing as she sank down to her knees.  Y/N wasn’t sure what she was feeling.  Embarrassment?  Yes.  Shame?  Definitely yes.  But there was something more.  It hurt what Bucky had said, and it hurt that he felt that way about her.  And it hurt that the humiliation had been turned back on her.  Did she…want him to like her?  Was that why she had teased and annoyed him this whole time?  She had been unable or unwilling to place her mixed emotions and took it out on him instead.  I am a fucking bitch, she thought, hugging herself as she cried.  Bucky deserved better than her as a mission partner.  She deserved this humiliation.  She wouldn’t blame him if he went around the whole tower and told everybody what happened.  Y/N slowly trudged up the few more flights of stairs to her floor, the discomfort of the wetness between her legs a constant reminder of her idiocy.  When she reached her room she bolted the door, giving Friday instructions not to let anyone in and to cancel all upcoming appointments and training, before stripping off her workout attire and getting in the shower.  She sank down to the shower floor after washing herself, crying as the water flowed over her.  Just a sick, twisted, sadistic bitch. 

[funnyinsanegirl]

Promposals [Touya Todoroki x Reader]

˙⋆✮🪩As long as I look fly by prom night!🪩✮⋆˙

"Promise to get a little better as I get older. And you're so patient and sick of waitin" Prom - Sza

High school Senior Prom AU of my fav villain ◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠

HS! Semi-Normal! Dabi x F. Reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

WC: 1008

"Soo..." my best friend, Mina, started with a coy smirk, "anyone ask you to prom yet?" She nudges my arm, obviously hinting at my boyfriend.

I shake my head, adjusting the books in my arms. "Nah, I probably won't go anyway. Seems like a waste of time, not to mention money."

"It's our senior year! You're acting like your parents aren't loaded," she scoffs, clearly unimpressed by my excuse. "And really? I thought for sure Dabi would've asked you by now. You guys have been dating for, what, five months?"

"Yeah, I thought he would too, but it's whatever. He's just not really into stuff like prom." I shrug, knowing my boyfriend is the definition of lowkey. Honestly, I’m sure he thinks going to prom would mess with his carefully crafted 'mysterious bad boy' nonchalant vibe.

Her eyes widen happily as an idea forms. "I'm sure Kiri wouldn't mind if you tagged along with us!"

I give her a look. Her boyfriend, Kiri, is very outwardly lovey-dovey, and there's no way he'd be okay with sharing Mina on prom night. She catches the look in my eyes and immediately reads my mind.

"Yeah, you're right. Bad idea," she admits, rolling her eyes.

"Very," I agree. "You two have fun, though. I gotta head home and study for that econ quiz."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you'll have just as much fun with that," she jokes, giving my arm a playful pat before waving goodbye.

I wave back and head out of the school, walking toward my house, which is a short distance away in the suburbs. Normally, I'd ride home with Dabi in his sexy black Mustang, but he skipped today, which, knowing him, isn't too uncommon.

I unlock my empty house—my parents are in France on business, so I’ve been left to die. Well, technically  they left me to "fend for myself," but it's basically the same thing. I kick off my shoes and head upstairs to my room, changing into some comfy lounge clothes before flopping onto my bed. I open my laptop and pull up my economics notes, trying to get through the material, but after a while, I realize I have no idea what the hell an "invisible hand" is.

I lean back against the pillows and let my eyes close. Studying is overrated anyway.

I woke up to the blaring sound of my phone alarm to take my vitamins that I had already taken earlier, but the alarm still ran incase I forgot. I groggily rolled over and squinted at the screen, still half-dazed from my nap. The time read 6:15 PM. Great. I’d fallen asleep for way too long. I rubbed my eyes, stretching as I sat up. My laptop was still open with economics notes, but the words blurred together like they were written in a foreign language. Ugh.

I pushed it aside and glanced at the clock again. Dabi would usually text me around this time, or he'd show up randomly at my door, leaning against the frame with that smirk of his. But today... nothing.

Sighing, I grabbed my phone, half-expecting another generic message from my mom or dad asking if I'm alive. But instead, there was a text from Mina.

Mina: "You sure you're not going to prom? Think about it! You'd look so hot in a dress, and I'm sure Dabi would change his mind n suck it up if you rly wanted to go. If he doesn't, still come and I'll make sure Kiri brings his best friend, so you’re not stuck third wheeling!"

I snorted at the part about Kiri's best friend. Mina's boyfriend has two best friends, Bakugo, who is painfully hostile, and Kaminari, who is super enthusiastic but also a little too much of a pervert, I'm not interested in either of those personalities. Either way, I have a boyfriend that I'm pretty exclusies with, and don't feel like pissing him off.

But the thought of prom? Of dressing up, of being surrounded by everyone else—feeling normal, like everyone else for a night—was kind of tempting. Even though I pretended not to care, I always wondered what it’d be like to go, to have that experience.

I stared at my phone for a moment, texting back:

Me: "I don’t know. It feels like too much of a hassle. You really think Dabi would go if I asked?"

There was a long pause before she replied.

Mina: "If u ask him? fat chance... But if you rly wanna go, I'll help u ask him!"

I could already hear her upbeat, enthusiastic tone in my head. It was like she was daring me to do it, challenging me to take that step.

I locked my phone, rolling my eyes as I flopped back onto my bed, already overthinking everything. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me kind of wanted to ask Dabi. Maybe he’d surprise me. But then again, maybe he'd just shrug it off and tell me he wasn’t into it, and I’d be left feeling stupid for even thinking it was a possibility.

Maybe I’d just let it go.

But a part of me couldn't stop wondering: what would it feel like to go with someone who actually cared enough to make the night special?

Just as I was starting to drift off again, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Dabi ❤︎: "You still up?"

I smiled to myself, feeling a little lighter. At least he hadn’t forgotten about me today.

Me: "Yeah, what’s up? :)" Dabi ❤︎: "Look outside." 

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking as I looked at my phone. Then, without thinking too much, I got up from my bed and walked over to my window. My heart nearly dropped when I first saw the fire—until my eyes caught the message the flames had formed.

"PROM?"

A laugh bubbled up from my chest, and I couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. Running downstairs, I grabbed some slippers and hurried outside.

"Yes! But you really need to put this out!" I called out, smiling wide as I watched him casually stand next to the fire, hands in his pockets, looking like he hadn’t just used his quirk to set the entire front yard ablaze.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

[ghostmoon1]

Day Four - Bed Rest

Ghost x Soap

Master List

I struggled to get this one out, I wasn't sure on how to write it! But I hope you all like it, I sorta like how it turned out!

CW: Mentions of being shot, poor Simon is wounded

Words: 1,057

Johnny’s hands tapped against the railings, letting the small sound echo to his ears with a sigh. Looking over the land, the rolling hills glistening in golden grass, the white specks of wildflowers waving along with the grass in the breeze.

He was silently thankful for Price, letting them stay here while Ghost had to recover after a hard mission. He knew being shot hurt, but being shot in the shoulder blade, where you couldn't move your arm at all was horrible when you're so used to always moving. Simon was a whole other story.

He was so used to always doing something, if that were fixing something at home, training or even doing paperwork, he’d find something to keep himself busy. Johnny didn’t quite understand why he couldn’t just stop and take a break, relax for a bit. But he couldn’t stop the man when he had his heart set on doing something. He was grateful he had to be on bedrest, maybe he could finally just sit and relax, not worrying about always having to do something. Maybe he can finally rest, after having spent so long not having a day of rest since joining the military. That’s what he thought anyway.

Deciding to retreat back inside, grabbing himself a mug to make his coffee for the morning. He almost spills the water as he suddenly hears a crash from another room, with multiple curses coming after. He quickly sets everything down, carefully making his way to the noise. His steps were quiet and careful, avoiding each floorboard that creaked with trained military precision. He quickly reached over, grabbing the first thing he could reach for, which so happened to be the clock. He didn;t think that’d do much to an intruder, but it’d give him some time to stun him before putting him in a headlock, or knocking him out. Being a trained military personnel gives you a lot of options.

He silently turned the corner, peeking his head out first before his body followed. The clock was raised in front of him, ready to hit anyone over the head. He wouldn’t let anyone disturb Simon’s rest, he needs this. He wanted to give him this-

“Simon?”

As he steps around the corner, he’s met with Simon, his duffle bag on the ground with its contents splayed over the ground. Every movement he makes causes him to grunt in pain. He’s hunched over, mumbling stuff to himself as he uses his better arm to move stuff to the side. He doesn’t even notice Johnny saying his name nor him being in the doorway.

“Simon?” he calls again, taking a few steps closer to get a better look at the mess that he was making over the carpet. He recognises the bag, the one they pack when staying back at the base, full of army-issued clothing, a notebook and comfort items that he brings along with him to base, even if he doesn’t have many of those. 

Finally Simon grunts in response, but not moving his focus away from the bag. “SImon, what are yer doing out here yer idiot. Your ass is supposed to be in bed rest!”

“Don’t want to stay in the good for nothin bed…” Simon mutters, throwing more clothes on the floor behind him.

Johnny just sighs and moves to sit next to him on the ground, watching him with furrowed brows as every movement causes him more pain than he was already in. “Your shoulder won’t heal properly if you're up and about doing shit like this you twat.”

Simon grunts in response, obviously annoyed that he was being ordered by his Sargent to get back into bed and just by the fact he was already in pain. 

Johnny shakes his hand, placing his hand on his knee and squeezing gently, urging him to relax. Once he finally starts to feel his muscles relax under his touch, he smiles softly and runs his thumb over his knee, watching his face soften slightly. Being out of work and out of public, this was one of the few times he gets to see Ghost without the mask, it was Simon. Not Ghost.

“What are you even looking for?” he mutters, eyes shifting back down to the duffle bag on the ground. He furrowed his brows as he studied the mess he had made, his hands still rummaging through the bag desperately.

He groans and throws the bag forward, grunting in pain and clutching his shoulder as pain sparks through his shoulder again at the movement. Johnny sighs, moving to wrap his arm around his waist hoping to bring him back to his bed.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to bed,” he murmurs, helping him stand up. Even if he could walk by himself, it scared him too much to have him walking around alone like this.

Simon groans softly, but lets him help him up. “I can’t find it…” 

“Find what, Si?”

“The bracelet you gave me.”

Johnny pauses for a moment as he studies his face. It’s not a lot that he will see his Lieutenant in even the slightest distress, but this felt so different, more personal. He frowns once it hits him that he can’t find it. But that would have to be a problem for another day, right now he needed to get back to his bed rest.

“It’s ‘right, we’ll find it later. Right now you need more bed rest,” he says as he helps him lay back down into the bed, trying not to even brush against his shoulder.

Simon groans but lets him help him lay back down, rolling onto his good shoulder with a huff in annoyance. Johnny tries to pull away after, but finds Simon gripping his hand tightly, tugging on it softly. He chuckles and understands what he wants, carefully settling down behind him in the bed. He tangles his legs with his, carefully threading his arm underneath Simon’s, trying his hardest not to bump his shoulder.

“Get some rest.”

“Only cause you won’t stop nagging me till I do,” Simon mutters, mostly under his breath. But as he faces away from Johnny, savouring the warmth of his body close to his, pressing against his back, a small smile spreads across his lips. He felt safe.

He felt at home.