#but it's damn near impossible to do that when every five minutes I have to be reminded of the people who want me dead

[pikagatogirltits]

Can people please start tagging fucking posts about US politics. I already had one major fucking breakdown over this shit, literally the only thing keeping me functional is me avoiding as much of this shit as possible so I don't spiral into feelings of despair again.

I have so many phrases and tags filtered to try and catch as much of this shit as possible, but it doesn't help when people don't tag shit.

[4vanaa]

—PILOT “Family Dinner (Or Whatever This Is)” outer banks modern family au

[It’s family dinner night at Pope and Cleo’s house—an attempt at a civilized gathering that, predictably, turns into an absolute disaster before it even starts. Each family is scrambling to get ready, kids are causing havoc, and in classic Modern Family fashion, the confessionals, give us an inside look at just how unhinged this crew really is.]

[LO: CAMERON HOUSEHOLD]

The camera cuts to Rafe standing in the living room, staring at a screaming Poppy (3), who has decided she doesn’t want to wear clothes. Milo (10) is sitting on the couch, fully dressed but casually eating a Pop-Tart, while Ava (15) is still upstairs, refusing to come down.

CONFESSIONAL Rafe & You

YOU: deadpan “We’re supposed to leave in five minutes.”

RAFE: chuckling, gesturing to the mess behind him “Yeah… that’s not happening.”

YOU: “Ava won’t come downstairs, Poppy is running around naked, and Milo—” glares off-camera“—MILO, STOP FEEDING THE DOG CHIPS.”

RAFE: shrugs “At least the dog’s eating.”

—Cut to Ava upstairs, dramatically lying on her bed, scrolling on her phone.

CONFESSIONAL Ava

AVA: “I don’t even know why we have these family dinners. Every time, someone storms out, someone cries, and last time Uncle JJ almost set the backyard on fire.” pause “It was kind of iconic, though.”

—Smash cut to Rafe yelling up the stairs, “AVA, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE OR YOU’RE GROUNDED.”

CONFESSIONAL Poppy

POPPY: grinning, wearing fairy wings and no pants “Daddy said a bad word.”

[LO: MAYBANK HOUSEHOLD]

The Maybank house is too calm, which is a bad sign. Jax (7) is fully dressed but covered in dirt, while Maya (12) is filming a TikTok dance in the kitchen. Kai (16), still shirtless, is texting someone suspiciously while JJ is making nachos instead of getting dressed.

CONFESSIONAL Kiara & JJ

KIARA: “JJ doesn’t understand the concept of—” hand quotes “— getting ready.”

JJ: mouth full of nachos “That’s because dinner is at seven, and it is currently—” checks phone “—not seven.”

KIARA: death glare

Meanwhile, Jax is whispering something to Milo(who is FaceTiming him), clearly planning some kind of mischief.

CONFESSIONAL Jax & Maya

JAX: grinning mischievously “Milo and I are bringing stink bombs.”

MAYA: rolling her eyes “This is why we’re never invited anywhere nice.”

—Cut to Kiara snatching JJ’s nachos, forcing him upstairs. Kai is still standing there, texting, when Kiara calls him out—

KIARA: “Kai. Shirt. Now.”

KAI: grinning “Ava likes this one.”

JJ: (off-screen): “Damn right she does—OW! KIE!”

[LO: ROUTLEDGE HOUSEHOLD]

Sarah is running around, trying to wrangle Lily (9) & Bennett (4) into their shoes, while Carter (14) is sitting on the counter, eating chips, and doing absolutely nothing to help. John B is... well, he’s looking for his shoes.

CONFESSIONAL John B & Sarah

SARAH: exasperated “We’re late every. Single. Time.”

JOHN B: defensive “Okay, but, like, time is a social construct.”

SARAH: “Tell that to Cleo when we show up forty-five minutes late and she glares at us until we die.”

—Smash cut to Carter smirking.

CONFESSIONAL Carter

CARTER: “Mom and Dad are always late. I don’t even try to get ready until at least ten minutes after they freak out. At this point, it’s a science.”

[LO: HEYWARD HOUSEHOLD]

Pope and Cleo are setting up dinner, the only responsible people in the entire family. Zara (13) is helping, while Jude (8) is sneakily trying to set up a booby trap near the front door.

CONFESSIONAL Pope & Cleo

POPE: stressed “This is a simple dinner. Why is that impossible?”

CLEO: deadpan “Because we’re related to crazy people.”

The doorbell rings. It’s Topper, who has arrived early with Finn (15) & Ruby (6).

CONFESSIONAL Topper

TOPPER: smug “I don’t know why it’s so hard for everyone to be on time. My family runs like a well-oiled machine.”

—Cut to Ruby throwing a juice box at Finn’s head while he scrolls through his phone, completely unfazed.

༝ Your family shows up fifteen minutes late, and Poppy is still wearing fairy wings (but now has pants).

༝ JJ & Kiara’s kids immediately run off with Jax’s stink bombs.

༝ John B & Sarah arrive last(again), and Cleo just glares at them.

༝ Ruby and Bennett start a war over the last dinner roll.

༝ Ava & Kai are flirting, which makes Rafe visibly twitch.

༝ Jude’s booby trap actually works, and Topper gets hit with a bucket of water.

CONFESSIONAL Pope

POPE: staring blankly at the camera, wine glass in hand “I hate them all.”

CONFESSIONAL JJ & Rafe

JJ: “See, this is why we don’t try to be responsible.”

RAFE: “You don’t try because you’re lazy.”

JJ: grinning “And yet, here we are. Surviving. Thriving. Watching Topper get hit with a bucket.”

—Cut to Topper still dripping wet, cursing under his breath as Ruby and Bennett cackle.

CONFESSIONAL Poppy & Bennett

POPPY: whispers “Uncle Barry said this family is crazy.”

BENNETT: nodding seriously “Uncle Barry is right.”

—Smash cut to Barry arriving fashionably late with a six-pack of beer and a bag of chips, looking at the disaster in front of him.

CONFESSIONAL Barry

BARRY: grinning “Yeah, this is exactly why I don’t have kids.”

[spacedace]

It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.

Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.

They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.

Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.

Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.

Nothing.

Nothing.

It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-

"Ugh, gross is that blood?"

Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.

"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"

John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.

"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.

There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.

Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."

John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.

"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"

Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."

"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.

It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.

When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.

It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.

She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.

He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."

She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.

Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -

"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"

Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.

Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:

"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"

You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.

[vivwritesfics]

This is for frat lando and max

So it's like a part two of the tutor one and you go back to the frat house to help lando but he's out and your left with max, max makes 'his little mouse' do all kind of things until lando walks into them during the act. Lando is obviously a bit pissed off... You make up the rest honey!!

Smutty and angsty 😻

I did a part two already but i loooove this so alternate part two!!

warnings: smut, oral (male!receiving)

Trying to work at Lando's desk was damn near impossible. She was supposed to be helping him with his essays, supposed to be helping him find relevant references and put a plan together so that he could write it.

But every five minutes he was tipping her face towards him and stealing a kiss, trying to pull her into his lap. Her face was hot as she tried to turn his attention back to their work. But nothing worked, nothing got his attention off of her.

Until his phone went off. Lando pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped his finger across the screen, answering it. He stood from his chair and walked out of the room.

A sigh left her lips as she looked down at her notebook. There were a few references written down and a basic plan, not enough for him to get on with his work. She should have left the house then and there, should have left him to suffer through his studies alone. But she couldn't.

The door opened. "Can we actually get on with it now?" She asked as she wrote down the important things about the source of information he was going to be using.

"Get on with what, little mouse?"

That wasn't Lando.

A gasp left her lips as she stood and turned to face Lando's frat brother. He was slightly older and just as gorgeous as Lando. "Sorry," she said and swallowed. "I thought you were Lando."

"I know, little mouse," he said and strode over to her. "I'm not Lando. I'm better."

His fingers were gentle under her chin as he tipped her face towards him, made her look up at him. She met his gaze, but she was trembling. Max's thumb touched her bottom lip, pulled it down slightly. But then his thumb was in her mouth, pressing down on her tongue.

"I think you know what I want you to do."

She made an assumption and sucked his thumb, swirled her tongue around it. Max hummed in satisfaction and placed his other hand on her shoulder. He kept his tongue in her mouth as he pushed her to her knees.

Max freed himself from his trousers. She didn't need telling what to do as she moved from his thumb to his cock. Her tongue swirled around his tip, just as it had his thumb before she took him as deep as she could. His tip nudged the back of her throat, but she didn't gag.

"You look so pretty, little mouse," he whispered, his hand on her head. The way he pushed in just a little more was so gentle, but tears gathered in the corner of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

When Max told her to sit there and keep her mouth around him, she did. She sat on her knees as Max withdrew his dick from between her lips, so her lips were just around his tip. But then he pushed back in.

The way he fucked her face was so damn gentle. He sped up as he closed his eyes and released a guttural groan. "Fuck, little mouse," he mumbled as her fingers wrapped around his base.

Gripping her hair, Max pulled away from her. She chased after him, tried to keep him in her mouth, but Max kept her where she was, spilled on her shirt.

Still holding her hair, Max took a minute to catch his breath. He pulled his phone from his pocket, opening the camera app as the door behind him opened. He ignored it, snapped a picture of her with his ejaculate on her shirt.

"What the fuck?"

Still trying to catch her breath, she looked past him, looked at Lando. Embarrassment flooded her and she tried to hide herself behind Max, but he stepped out of the way, revealing her. "Thank you, little mouse," he said and petted her head, an attempt to humiliate her before he left the room.

He met Lando's eye before he disappeared out of the room.

[jenanigans1207]

Did I mention that I’m doing a daily 1000 word Destiel Drabble for fun? Because I am! You can find it on ao3 ofc, or else I’ll be posting them here! Each one is based on a random word that I’m prompted with every day. Here’s day one!

1/1/:25: choke

The lights in the kitchen of the bunker are bright in the middle of the night, as Dean props his hip against the counter and nestles a cup of warm coffee between his cold hands. He should be asleep— story of his goddamn life. He should be a lot of things, really, but he finds that this is one of those nights where the thoughts won’t let him go, where the sleep won’t come.

He had crept out of bed as quietly as he could, trying his hardest not to disturb Cas as he’d crawled out from under their covers and opened the door as slowly as he possibly could. It had taken Cas some time to adjust to sleeping again now that he was human, and on the rare nights that he didn’t have nightmares, Dean would never risk disturbing him. He would fight heaven, hell, and god himself again if that’s what it took to protect Cas’s rest. He would start and then stop another goddamn apocalypse if he had to.

Dean almost smiles to himself, leaning against the kitchen counter at the thought.

Cas, of course, would be furious if Dean went off and did something like that for him. Cas would be furious if Dean so much as lost five minutes of sleep for him. He was more selfless than anyone Dean had ever met and it came both from that holy sort of unconditional love and crippling self-deprecation and a lack of belief in himself— honestly Cas’s low opinion of himself damn near rivaled the way Dean thought about himself and wasn’t that a hell of a combination?

Dean is just taking another sip of his coffee when there’s movement down the hall. In the past, he would’ve jumped, would’ve reached for the handle of a gun that he kept tucked into his pants, even his pajamas. In the past, he would have already assessed his surroundings for anything unusual— or anything he could use as a weapon if his gun somehow failed. But this isn’t the past. This is a world where he has taken that bastard Chuck off the board, a world where the future is well and truly his. And those aren’t just any footsteps, those are Cas’s footsteps, and Dean would recognize them anywhere.

He’s lost them too many goddamn times to mistake the sound of them or to take them for granted.

Sure enough, a moment later there’s an impossible mess of dark hair and squinty blue eyes popping around the door frame to stare at him. “Dean?”

“Sorry, sunshine.” Dean can’t stop the grin from splitting his lips even if he tried— but he doesn’t try. Doesn’t even want to try. He likes the way it feels on his face, even if the genuine joy associated with it is still a foreign concept to him. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Cas answers as he fully enters the kitchen, rubbing at one eye. He then adds, “Yes.”

“Well,” Dean takes a hand off of his coffee as Cas approaches, fighting the urge to reach out and drag Cas to him when he’s still several steps away. “That makes a lot of sense.”

Cas sighs as he finishes approaching Dean, nestling himself into the space created when Dean opens his arms. He’s still warm from their bed, soft and cozy as he presses his face into Dean’s neck and tucks his head gently under Dean’s chin. “You didn’t wake me when you left.” Cas explains after a moment, “But the feeling of you not in the bed woke me.”

Dean allows his arm to settle around Cas’s back as he pulls him a step closer, pressing his cheek into the top of Cas’s head, “Cas—”

“Are you alright?” Cas asks. He asks it quietly into the collar of the t-shirt that Dean wears to bed. He asks it quietly into the open air of the kitchen. There’s no demand for an answer, no expectation. There’s just quiet, unwavering, honest support coming from the only person who has ever loved Dean for all that he is.

In the past, just the thought of answering this question would’ve made Dean feel like he was going to choke, regardless of what the answer would’ve been. In the past, Dean would’ve found himself scrambling for anything that would allow him to dodge addressing the question, anything that would distract Cas from the thought all together so there was no chance for them to loop back around to it.

But this isn’t the past. Dean is safe now, and he’s learning to face all the shit from his past that made him this way. Dean is learning to put words to the things he feels, teaching himself to be open, and honest, to believe that it’s okay for him to think and feel certain ways and that there’s no divine punishment— not even a mundane punishment like a fist to the jaw— waiting to strike him down the moment he dares to even consider breathing life into those feelings.

“Yeah,” Dean answers, and it’s the honest truth. He smiles into the crown of Cas’s head as he presses a kiss there. “Yeah, I’m fine, Cas. Just couldn’t sleep.”

Cas pulls away just enough to be able to glance up and meet Dean’s gaze directly and Dean doesn’t shy away from it. Not that he ever has, really. But he doesn’t feel the need to try and build walls in the minuscule space between them, doesn’t feel the need to try and guard himself from whatever Cas might find in his eyes. Instead he simply looks, and he adores, and he allows himself to feel safe and content in this moment.

“Well,” Cas says after a moment, and there’s a smile on the edge of his lips as well. One that looks suspiciously fond in the early morning kitchen light. “You better figure that out, because I’m tired and I’m not going back to sleep without you.”

[katyawriteswhump]

The power of love, part 10 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11 Part 12

Contains mild kink (under-negotiated and going slightly wrong—all for plotty purposes, honest!)

(also on AO3 here)

...

Steve POV continued

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t think about it now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the quivering beams of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab one end of the rope, loop it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, despite longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Stevie, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Fuck!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

“How?”

“Robin said there was a track, remember? Shit, shit, shit! Turn the flashlight off. Now.”

Eddie obeys. Pitch darkness slams down. “Fine,” says Steve, struggling to keep it together. “You gotta untie me, man.”

“Right. Yeah.”

Cold sweat carves rivulets down the back of Steve’s neck, soaking the hair as his nape, while Eddie fumbles at the rope. Eddie’s frantic, singsong voice unsettles Steve further: “Nooooo. Can’t see what I’m doing.”

“You tied the dumb things? How hard can it be!”

“Stop struggling. You’re making the knots tighter.” 

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t realized he was doing that. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Eddie switches the flashlight back on. 

“Are you insane?” hisses Steve.

“Not the expert I thought I was, okay? I’m gonna have to slice them. Don’t wanna slice you.” Eddie retrieves a flick-knife from his back pocket, starts hacking above Steve’s right wrist. “Aaaaargh! You blunted this thing slashing your way through that goddamn jungle.”

“Somebody had to carve a path for you two great wusses. Just… Don’t be a klutz.”

“Aaaaah, I suck at this, Stevie. I don’t like this. I don’t like this.”

Neither does Steve. An engine revs and grinds, waaaay too close. “Turn the stupid light off. Go! Warn Robin. She’s a heavy sleeper.”

“But—”

“DO IT!” Steve’s furious desperation hits home. Eddie kills the flashlight, leaving Steve tethered by the wrists. Totally helpless.

Calm down, calm down. Focus, Harrington. Free yourself and then you can help them.

He grits his teeth, tugs again at the ropes. They simply bite deeper into his flesh. Nevertheless, Eddie has sawed partially through the rope above his right wrist. He throws everything into that, shoulder and biceps burning, until…

Snap.

His right wrist flies free, and he slumps forward into the darkness. Which makes the bonds around his left wrist snare super-tight, like he was caught in an animal trap.

Ooow! Oh great, just great.

He staggers upright to slacken the remaining rope, gives it a single strenuous tug then pulls short, gasping. At this rate, he’s gonna squeeze his own goddamn hand off.

He hears murmured voices—Eddie? Robin? Two beams of dusky white light streak through the small windows of the cabin—headlamps!?! 

His increasingly feeble struggles dry up. Whoever is coming is nearly here, and he wants to punch something, to kick something. Anything! He’d do anything to protect Eddie and Robin. Anything… Anything.

Giddiness swirls through his body like a mist. He’s nearly bent double, before the wrench through his shoulder revives him. Ow, Jesus! He scrambles to find his footing, to lighten the burden on his shoulder socket, though he’s still light-headed, his chest tight and shuddering. Are the army here? Have Robin and Eddie been taken? Oh God, oh God!

Something that feels like a mini lightning-storm consumes his brain, echoed by a deafening clap of thunder, and then…

Nothing.

…

Eddie POV

Eddie dips around the wavering beams of the slowly approaching headlights. He dashes into the bunkroom, where Robin is asleep.

In the gloom, he grabs her shoulder, shakes her. “Robin!” 

“Mind the kittens… Huh? Shit, sorry, dreaming. What the—”

Eddie flattens his hand over her mouth. “Someone’s coming,” he hisses.

“Shit-birds, what do we…” Robin sits up, slides to her feet. Her attention swings to Steve’s empty bunk. “Where is he?”

“Long story. Listen, you gotta run. Now. Hide.”

“Where? There’s only one way out.” Her arms flap everywhere. “Where’s Steve, Eddie?” 

“Gonna get him. Come on!”

They sidle out of the bunkroom, keeping tight to the cabin and the shadows. The revs from the vehicle are hard-by. “Hide in the trees,” says Eddie. “Go.”

“Not without Steve! Where is… Oh my God, oh my God.” 

Two headlight beams dazzle, as the vehicle enters the camp. A few fleeting heartbeats later, lightning forks across the sky, echoed by a deafening thunderclap. As Eddie and Robin charge deeper into the shadows, the heavens literally crack apart and a wall of rain slams down. Eddie sprints for the cabin where he left Steve, already soaked to the skin, no idea if Robin followed.

“Steve?” he whispers. “Steve! Shit! Shiiiiit!” Blundering in the dark, he discovers Steve’s completely out of it, dangling limply from one wrist. Eddie’s clumsily bracing his weight, when a flashlight sets him squinting, and a large figure blocks the doorway.

It’s all over.

Somebody roars, “What the hell is going on?” 

It sounds like Chief Hopper.

Eddie’s so stunned that he almost lets Steve drop. Fortunately, Hopper is already there—or, at least, some tall, lean, mean-looking dude that resembles him. Whoever he is, he gets his arms around Steve, while elbowing Eddie out of the way.

“Eddie? What? Why? What did you do to him? How could you? HOW COULD YOU?” Robin, holding the light, sounds ten times angrier than the thunder.

“It… uh, it wasn’t like that.” Eddie wrings his sopping hair. “I can explain?”

“Save it, Munson,” mutters the Hopper-look-alike, who’s already produced a vicious-looking blade and is hacking Steve free. Then he scoops one arm under Steve’s knees, and with a grunt, he picks him up.

“You got beds somewhere?” asks Hopper. Robin nods, before leading the way out into the easing rain.

Part 11

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11

[cryptidswitch]

Nothing kills me more than we businesses pay absolutely zero attention to how to handle employees with mental disorders.

I have anxiety among a plethora of other things, but most relevent in the situation is anxiety. They constantly are piling more and more work on me in an area I haven't been in for damn near four years and I can't accomplish what they want from me. They assign us a huge task list for a five hour shift and give us areas that are just absolutely wrecked and expect us to take a demolished area to 100% perfect.

Oh yeah except we have four areas in a five hour shift and the first hour is spent doing a completely different task. On top of that we are still expected to backup the cashiers when the line gets long and help fulfilment when the number of carts gets too high. Oh yeah and help guests and spend about half an hour to forty-five minutes pulling items from the back for our area.

Tonight, I was on my way to go to the bathroom (the first time I left my area all night) and the supervisor happened to catch me talking to a guy in tech who was telling me it was his last day. She then proceeded to chew into me about talking when I have stuff to be zoning and how I haven't had a night where things were good in my areas.

This causes me to panic...because I have anxiety and my shit 100% was not going to be complete, especially when the manager for the just dropped off a full cart of reshop from the front.

I then panic zone the rest of my shift, stay 15 minutes over desperately trying to finish my impossible task, and then I go to clock out defeated.

Same supervisor who chewed me out asks me if I'm okay, because at this point I'm hyperventilating (and with my absolute lung ripper of a cold is making every breath hurt) and then I just go into full blow panic attack

I'm violently sobbing and hyperventilating in the chair in her office and I'm pleading with her that I got as much done as I could and I apologized profusely

Fun fact, I have an absolute phobia of failure and I'm a people pleaser. These weeks of just being setup for failure every single night have just shredded my mental health and since I go straight from taking care of my two year old all day then into work I get no break.

I just wish people would have even a hint of common decency

And when I'm having a panic attack about not getting things done, don't tell me how I need to "See it from my perspective when I see you talking to people"

[mamamittens]

I was thinking again for the seemingly-hopefully-not-too-distant time I clear out a least a few of my ongoing fics enough to justify officially writing my self indulgent shelf shippy fic with like, a real character arc for Nikia.

So like, scroll on to ignore my should-be-sleeping rambling lol

I was tinkering with how encompassing Nikia's haki would be. Taking my own liberties with how it works since most of it is handwaved. Off topic, I would like it to be visible, at least for strong showing of it cause I feel like Anime Bullshit gets harder to swallow when the crazy effects are meant to be invisible and more... Metaphorical. Like Demon Slayer. They gotta look batshit if they're not actually flinging fire and elemental attacks all over the place.

So, obviously, her best haki would be observation as a more... Passive, ability. Intended more like a sixth sense for her surroundings and unique ability to find things/people with ease and without a lot of training. Over time she's able to make mental maps and locate people along with their general vibe/mood. It gets to the point that she sort of knows when things are going to happen. Rarely taken by surprise by a phonecall or visitor.

This leads up to a day where she's plagued by this dreadful feeling with no source. Feeling like she needs to call Thatch but not knowing why and too scared to bother him for nothing. Until she wakes up that night in cold sweat, staring at Sheldon (her snail lol) like she's expecting a call but... Knowing she won't be getting one. Her paranoia growing with every day until she gets the news of his 'death'.

Her other skill with observation is cloaking her presence. She's always just really blended into a crowd despite her wings and when flying? Damn near impossible to spot her. Even without her gun flinging her wildly around.

Armament is a skill she learns through being battered by the rough winds. Clouds fucking hurt to fly through, even with proper coverage. And blizzards are a bitch and a half. So even without any serious combat experience like most Marines/pirates, she's got pretty good armament. Particularly on her wings, which helps buffer them from sudden wind changes and weather phenomenon like hail (ouch). I like her 'color' being teal highlights on the usual black. Seems fitting. She also shoots with armament to help stabilize shots over long distances and to save her seastone bullets for real emergencies. They are expensive after all. And armament works just as well for weaker prey.

I was also revisiting what kind of character arc she'd have, going from shy and reserved to competent mountain ranger but aloof. Originally I wanted the grand reunion to be a quiet, intimate affair because I'm not a fan of big, showy, 'weep and wail in front of everyone for a solid five minutes' kind of thing. Just seems awkward. But it would be a lovely emotional climax for someone that's spent so long compartmentalizing their feelings to keep things from getting awkward or inconvenient to just fall apart like that. Maybe not wailing, but running across the deck without realizing she's even moved, hasn't breathed since she spotted him.

Thatch, utterly shocked at this warm reception, being enveloped by familiar fluffy wings as she embraces him. Crying and struggling to cling without squeezing his bandaged chest. For a moment, it's just them. As she's crying and he's apologizing for not calling. The crew shocked as Whitebeard looks proud to have pulled this together so well. It takes a bit to pull herself together, even longer to stop burying her face in his chest, but eventually she calms down enough to pull away. Sheepish but exhausted from crying and the past few months.

There's a party, naturally, with Thatch forbidden from doing anything strenuous or drinking more than a couple of mugs of beer. Resting next to Whitebeard who's on a similar bed rest. The two curled up in each other's arms as they eventually drift to sleep. Whitebeard dozing off next to them protectively. Glaring when someone goes to wake them. Or when Nikia's dad looks too pouty and like he's about to make her go to bed (Thatch can sleep on deck for making his baby cry, thanks).

It's all very soft and sweet in my head, but that may just be because I'm tired and I always fantasize about cuddling and sleeping when I'm tired lol

[atlaswilliams]

"Aslihan," he tsked lowly, a mocking look of doubt painting his features as his singsong voice echoed off the shelves around them. It was a powerful room to begin with, but the acoustics? He would have had a field day on a drunken night when it was just him and his guitar. Amusement thundered through his veins, pushing aside the musical thoughts for the overwhelming excitement of a win. Against her, it was the highlight of his whole damn week, if not year. "She taps out quickly," he countered with a few claps and a toothy grin. Of course, Theo was a low-blow, but how else was he supposed to get a win against the woman who was always five steps ahead of the rest of the world? "Oh, I'm happy. You know me, I like to win. Especially since I somehow get cheated every game night. Just remember this, alright? And don't worry. I won't let you forget." He'd subtly bring it up whenever he needed a boost. It was harmless leverage and seeing the smile beaming back at him was reason enough to keep the joke running.

A wave of relief washed over him, his nervous steps a thousand times lighter. He'd feared that her summer was going to be spent elsewhere and that their time as family would be cut short because of it. It was selfish, really, but a lingering insecurity made pushing the fears out nearly impossible. "Is that why you do it? You stay busy so you don't have any downtime?" He'd always thought that her love for knowledge was what fueled her into multiple jobs and opportunities, but in that moment, he wondered if he'd gotten it all wrong. Maybe instead of chasing downtime, she was doing anything she could to keep from having it. "Don't forget the plants? Eli told me you were on a plant kick. I figured that's where Alex got it from. She had me get her a succulent and I've been doing my research to try and keep it alive. Can't be the worst dad in the world and kill her plant while she's gone." It was hard work, but according to every forum he'd read, a succulent was one of the easier plants to care for.

One minute, he'd been smiling, the next, it felt as if someone had him in a chokehold and the only thing he could do was lean into it and pray that it came to an end. His lungs burned and ached for reprieve, but his knee bounced harder and his chest didn't move as he attempted to wrap his mind around everything. She'd had troubles carrying Alex, troubles that he'd assumed were because of his own contribution to the child's creation. Even Sage had battled terrible sickness with Maggie, but it was nothing by comparison to the struggles Aslihan had mentioned.

Struggles. Death. She'd died. The mother of his child, the woman he'd spent three weeks getting to know beyond words... had died. She'd given her own life to ensure that Alex could live, all while, he had no clue. He was partying, acting like a man in his early twenties while nearing thirty. Careless to everything except for himself and even then, he didn't give a damn.

Did he even deserve to be a father? It didn't seem that way.

A sharp breath was forced from his lungs, a hum of defeat following as he doubled over in the chair, his forehead falling against his palms for a few short seconds before he sat up straighter and swallowed down the thickness that had settled in his throat.

"I could have," he trailed off, voice weak, "I could have checked in." He'd promised her that much at the airport, but he hadn't. The second he'd touched down in the States and was back in Colorado... he'd gotten lost in his old bullshit ways. He was back to being exactly what he'd sworn he wasn't. Back to the version of himself that he'd hated while in London. "If I'd reached out... would you have told me?" It was the million dollar question, one that had the weight to break him further. She could blame herself all she wanted, but if the missing piece had been him making an effort... how was he ever supposed to forgive himself for that?

Aslihan gasped playfully. "Oh, really? I am nothing but completely and utterly innocent." Now, she and Atlas both knew how untrue that genuinely was. Not that she'd admit aloud. "Good luck trying to convince them otherwise. Wha---Now, that's just cheating!" Asli's eyes widened as Atlas pulled out the Theo card. Of course, she knew how much the man before her loved and respected her parents, so she knew he wouldn't truly do or say anything. Theo, on the other hand? She wouldn't be surprised at the thought of him finding some way to mess with her older brother. "A low blow, if you will. Going to my brother... Ugh, fine. Call it even, though you absolutely cheated this time around." Now, how could she possibly be mad or even pretend to be when he looked that excited to have won this time? The curator could only shake her head as she laughed softly, a gentle smile forming on her lips. "I hope you're happy," she said. Though it was meant to be playful and aligned with this, she also meant in general. All she's ever wanted for the man was for him to be happy. While at first, it hadn't been exactly what she imagined or hoped, she pushed that all down and tried to focus on the fact that he was happy. That's what mattered in the end.

I don't see how you do it all. Her features softened at his words. "Old habits, mainly," she mused. "We all got our own methods to survive, don't we?" While she had told him about her days at uni back in Cairo, how she endured being bullied and alone, it hadn't been until she went to therapy that she found out that her workaholic qualities were more so a coping mechanism than anything else. Of course, Asli did genuinely love to keep busy and stay active. Yet at the core of it all, she was still that fourteen year old who was treated differently, who was treated horribly, and stayed as busy as she could, if not more, so that she could survive in the end. That has never changed. She shook her head at his words. "No, I'm staying. Just with summer coming up and with some plans, I'm going to have a break from teaching and minimalize workload for the museum and institute. Spend more time at home with Alex and Eli and the kitties." And the baby, yet she couldn't tell him. Not just yet.

Over the years, she tried to imagine telling him the truth. Of what happened with Alex and how, had her father found her a few minutes late or had her doctor's efforts been in vain, everything would be different. Atlas could've possibly raised Alex, yet Asli wouldn't have been around to see that. How could one thing result in a multitude of different 'what ifs'? How could there be such a variety that, deep down, it'll always pierce her heart in wonder? No matter how much time has passed?

What would've made the most difference, she wondered: telling Atlas about the baby sooner; asking him to come with her to Egypt or him asking her to come with him to Colorado; or them never meeting each other at all? The latter, of course, but it only raised more questions as well. Would they have still eventually met? Would they have still eventually had Alex? What else would change? All her life, she believed that history and the world would make her question things the most. She never expected that another human being, especially one that was still alive, would ever fill her up with all the questions she has and how she only had more and more questions that come to her over time. She never expected that the boy she met in the small book shop back in London to be that person, yet here they are. She just tried not to wonder if he also had those same questions about her.

Quietly, she waited. She stared at the floor, worn wood with scuff marks from moving furniture and foot traffic over the years. She stared at the ceiling, high-beamed and dark in colour. She stared at the collection of books, a rainbow of colours and a mixture of hardcover and paperback. Everywhere, she looked and was made aware of her surroundings. But not at Atlas. No, she couldn't look at him. She couldn't look as she waited for his response. Whatever it is. She knew that she would deserve his anger. All these years, she waited for the day where he finally admitted that he was still angry with her and she knew that she deserves it.

Instead, she was given the reaction that she feared the most. The brunette quickly looking back at him as her face fell.

"Atlas, n-no," she said. "No, don't... Don't. Don't you dare apologize. Don't you dare say you're sorry. Please, don't apologize." Her voice sounded desperate as she pleaded, dark brown eyes searching Atlas' dark hazel hues. Remembering how to breathe was becoming a chore instead of second nature yet blinking back her tears was easier. "You have nothing to apologize for. A-Alright? This isn't your burden to bear, but mine. This isn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. I didn't tell you all these years because I knew that you would try to take the blame, but I'm not going to allow you to. Okay? Please... Please don't apologize. I'm not telling you this because I expect an apology of any sort. You've done nothing wrong. Please... Please don't be sorry. Please, Yankee." ||📜@atlaswilliams

[nineteenninety-six]

HI EJDBJEBJ pls pls can u do a banda sunato imagine?

where he meets reader at the jack of hearts game and he fell in love at first sight and he was not expecting it because he's a serial killer and there he sees reader (doesnt need to be fem) and like gad damn hi why did i just meet u today. and he swears to like,, protect the reader.

bonus ig is that reader is close to chishiya

I change a few things from the episode but hopefully, it still makes sense lol and Banda is ooc. Also, it's funny seeing the likes go up for my Arisu fic since the second season was released.

I made this gn but if you see any gendered language please tell me so I can correct it!

YN trailed behind Chishiya as they entered the prison where the Jack of Hearts game was being held. After being separated from the rest of the group, the two of them were trying to get back to them whilst entering the face card games.

Well, YN was focused on getting back to the group whilst Chishiya took his sweet time, eagerly seeking out the blimps that flew over Tokyo. 

His eyes lit up when he realised that they were near the Jack of Hearts game, and though he says he was not suited for them, YN believed that Chishiya was intelligent to the point he could adapt to all of the card types, except maybe Spades but he would figure a way out for that too as he did with the Tag game.

If it wasn’t for the fact that their visa was going to expire soon, YN would be sitting outside of the prison waiting for Chishiya to return but unfortunately, the borderlands were cruel so here they were putting their life on the line yet again.

They slipped the collars on as instructed and made their way into the guard room where about ten people were waiting and judging from the table of collars by the entrance, it was going to be a high-number player game.

Chishiya found a shadowed alcove where he could see the entrance and everyone else who was already there. YN took their place next to him and together they waited for the rest of the players to join.

Eventually, the last player joined and the tension and fear in the room amplified as the screen in the room lit up and the automated voice rattled through the speakers and everyone’s attention was directed to it.

“Difficulty, Jack of Hearts.”

“Game, Prison Cell”

┆彡

Banda stepped into the guardroom and set his gaze upon the other players in the guardroom. Some nervously avoided eye contact, others squared their shoulders and made themselves bigger as others hid in the shadows.

Nothing unusual, he noted. After all, they were all forced to participate in these death games but some adapted better than others. Some people thrived and dominated the games whilst others simply rode on their coattails, surviving off the backs of others.

Banda turned his attention back to the screen, listening to the instructions as they were explained. 

“Rules. Guess the suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you cannot see your own suit. The time limit per round is one hour. Five minutes before the time is up enter one of the prison cells and guess what your own suit is. If you do not guess your suit correctly, the game is over for you. When time runs out, your collar will explode and you will die. In addition, your suit will change at every round.”

People fiddled with their collars, twisting and turning but their design made it impossible.

“But we just need to have someone tell us what it is, right? That'll be easy” A young man excitedly exclaims on the other side of the room, bringing Banda’s attention to him and consequently to YN as they move out of the shadows when the man next to them responds.

“I wouldn't be so sure. They haven't told us how to clear the game.”

Banda pays no attention to the voice as it finishes explaining the rules as he was hooked on the mysterious person on the opposite side of the room. 

He was down bad and they hadn’t even shared a word.

┆彡

YN watched as everyone started to team up but distrust was thick in the air. Reality has settled in, it would be hard to clear this game and most will die as distrust and backstabbing fester.

The young man in what YN thought was quite an adorable set-up of a yellow t-shirt and dungarees, turns to them “Hey, let’s tell each other”

“If you want to survive, you need to observe everyone here very closely. You need to remember everyone who doesn’t lie. Besides, I could be the Jack of Hearts myself…”

YN tunes out Chishiya, their gaze focused on the man who is steadily approaching them from the other side of the room. He was cute, with a sweet smile and broad shoulders.

His eyes are only on YN and as he stops in front of them, it pulls Chishiya from his conversation but he remains silent as he watches on.

“Do you want to partner up?” The man asked eagerly, “We’re stronger in pairs.”

Chishiya makes a noise of amusement which causes the man's eyes to flicker over to him.

“...Unless you’ve already partnered up” The man glared slightly at Chishiya

“No, no… we can all group up.” YN quickly spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension between the two men. Chishiya had the ability to piss anyone and everyone off, including YN several times.

When the man looked back over at YN, they introduced themselves, holding out a hand that the man eagerly shook and introduced himself.

“Banda.” He smiles, “Banda Sunato”

YN returns his smile and twists around, showing him the back of their collar, “Do you mind telling me mine?”

Banda steps closer to look at the collar before gently tugging YN back around to face him. The physical contact was unneeded but YN didn’t mind. In fact, they kind of liked it.

“Club.”

YN tells him and Chishiya’s theirs before they have to go into the cells to call out their suit.

There are no deaths this round and everyone breathes a sigh of relief as they step out of their cells. 

Immediately Banda makes their way over to YN with a smile, not wanting to be separated from them for longer than he has to.

Chishiya watches as they head to the food room, racking his brain, trying to remember where he remembers the name Banda Sunato from. 

┆彡

“You know, I wonder how long this will last”

The words of the man next to Banda catch YN’s attention, so they listen in on their conversation.

“Either the Jack will start killing people, or someone who’s afraid they’ll be killed will start killing others. Until one of those things happens, this will never end.” Banda explains.

“That’s exactly right.” Chishiya jumps in.

“As long as we’re all telling each other, we’ll be fine.” The man in the yellow shirt, Ippei, tries to look on the brighter side of things.

YN gives him a sympathetic smile, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Their conversation is interrupted by shouting and a young man being shoved to the floor. Everybody turns to watch as a bald man shouts at the frightened younger man to tell him his suit.

YN tries to move forward to help him but is stopped by Chishiya who shakes his head at them, motioning to what Banda was currently doing. 

When YN hears the muffled explosion and thump that echoes through the prison at the end of the round, they realise what Banda had done.

┆彡

Banda watches as YN snacks on a packet of cookies, finding everything they do utterly endearing and adorable.

“You know…” He begins to speak, catching YN’s attention, “I would never betray you. I’ll protect you.”

He takes YN’s hand in his, holding it tightly but their moment is interrupted by the arrival of Chishiya.

“Eyy, for all we know you can be the jack of hearts.”

Banda glares at Chishiya. So does YN. Trust him to stir up shit.

“So could you.”

Chishiya points at YN, “They can vouch for me”

Banda looks over to YN who rolls their eyes and nods, “I’ve had the misfortune of knowing Chishiya since I came to the borderlands. He’s not the Jack. Neither am I, by the way.”

Banda quickly shook his head, “I would have never thought that.”

YN saw Chishiya make a face from the corner of their eye but ignored him.

YN didn’t tell Banda that they knew he kickstarted the series of deaths in this game either.

┆彡

Players were dropping like flies. Backing stabbing and fear had crumbled groups until there were only seven of them left. 

Ippei couldn’t take it, the game had broken him and as YN watched him sob on the floor as Chishiya tried to comfort him, they felt bad for him. They understood how these death games took everything from you and if you manage to survive one, you barely have enough time to recuperate before you’re forced to join another lest you want your visa to run out.

When YN heard the muffled explosion at the end of the hour, they knew Ippei chose death. 

Banda approached YN, seeing how upset they were about Ippei, bringing them into a hug and comforting them.

“He’s at peace now.”

YN nodded and snuggled further into his hold, melting into his warmth. YN had needed that hug desperately, the last one they had was with Kuina at The Beach which felt like a lifetime ago. 

YN took a backseat role for the next round, Chishiya told them their suit and vice versa. Watching as he planned something with Banda and Yaba but did not get involved as they laid a trap for Matsushita, the Jack of Hearts.

After the trap fell in place, YN watched as Yaba dragged Matsushita into an empty cell as Banda made his way over to where they were standing and Chishiya made himself scarce, giving them a moment of privacy.

Banda cups YN’s cheek in his hand, “I think this is where we part but we will meet again. I promise you that.”

YN nodded, placing their hand over the one that rested on their cheek, “We will. I know it.”

Banda gave them a rare smile before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on YN’s cheek before he let them go and walked back to the cell Yaba was holding Matsushita in.

As YN and Chishiya left the prison, the blimp above it exploded, signalling the Jack of Hearts had been defeated.

YN cast a worried look back at the prison as they walked further away which Chishiya rolled his eyes at when he noticed.

“You know he is a serial killer right?” Chishiya told them still walking away, “ He’ll be fine”

YN did a double take at his words, “A what?”

“Serial killer. Killed four women”

YN gaped at the back of Chishiya’s head before chasing after him, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Chishiya looked behind him and picked up his pace at the sight of YN’s mad face gaining ground on him, “I thought you knew! I thought he told you!”

┆彡

One week later, YN sat outside the supreme court waiting for Chishiya as he played the King of Diamonds game when they heard a voice call out to them.

“Waiting for someone?”

YN looked up and couldn’t help the smile that spread on their face, 

“Banda!”

[satansindexfinger]

Please --that tattoo one is so cute idk how requests work but 100 percent mc getting the demon brothers mark tattooed on their body? (I know irl that loveer tattoos are probably not a good idea but. Like)

Author's note: As an inked gal myself, one of the few tattoos I would never get is a lovers one lmao so you're right on that. But hey in fantasy land everything is sweet and inconsequential so less go!! Thank you for the sweet request ♡ sorry for only doing the four eldest,, the rest of the brothers are harder for me to write but do tell me if you want them too.

Warnings: mention of needles (nothing graphic)

Fluff; gn! MC; Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan

Getting Their Pact Mark Tattooed On You

Lucifer

You already know he is swelling with pride just at the mention of it. Having made it clear you're his as much as he is yours was more than enough but this is a whole other level of commitment Lucifer would be pleasantly surprised by.

Whether you want to make it a surprise or not, Lucifer won't be accompanying you, citing his workload as an excuse. In all honesty, he just wants to see his mark on you without knowing what to expect. Even he likes getting caught off guard sometimes.

It's a win-win regarding which body part you envrage it on. If it's in a more hidden area Lucifer gets the satisfaction (and smugness) of knowing only he gets to see it. Only he gets to slide his ungloved hands down your ink, to trail kisses on it while it's healing to ease the pain, to truly take in the bond you two share.

If it's on a more visable area, say arms or collarbone, Lucifer's pride and ownership of you will be laid bare to see. He will subtly encourage you to wear clothing that shows the mark off; it's a silent but sure way to warn everyone that you belong to him, and you are committed.

Absolutely can and will use the excuse of the tattoo healing to rub ointment on and check your skin.

Will never tire of looking at it. Try as he might to be subtle about it, he really can't help it. You swear you can see his eyes water a bit at times. Don't bring it up; just let him take in the fact that someone is willing to love him enough to mark themselves permanently to show it.

Mammon

Even if you wanted to surprise the avatar of greed with this, it would be neigh impossible. Mammon himself has been (not so subtly) entertaining the idea of you getting a tattoo in his honour, or you two having matching ones. He doesn't believe you would actually do it.

So imagine his surprise once he finds out you have an appointment scheduled. He assumes it's anything but related to him, yet will insist on going with you. Once he realizes it's his pact mark.. about to be inked.. onto your body. Forever?

Damn near faints from all the blood rushing to his face before you even get to the salon. He is overjoyed! Frantic! You're actually doing this for him?!

Holding your hand throughout the entire procedure, even though he grasps a little too tight; both from being beyond flustered, and also squeamish seeing the process. He's panicking every five minutes as if he's the one getting a needle in him.

"Are you okay, MC? D-does it hurt? It's alright, you've got me to help ya, ya got this!! ... Is it suppoused ta get that red? R-relax, yer doing great! It'll be over in no time!"

"Mammon, chill."

Can't keep himself from staring after it's done. Six months later his eyes are still drifting towards the pact mark every time it's in plain view.

Almost seems hesitant to touch and kiss it, even when he really wants to. It will always feel like a fever dream to him that you actually love him enough to etch his mark on your skin for thr rest of your life.

Once he gets over the emotional aspect, he will assault it with his lips, hands, eyes, praise.. Mammon will treasure it as much as he does you.

Demands to get a matching tattoo that represents your mark on him aswell.

Leviathan

If you don't keep it a secret from him, he will be questioning and low key trying to discourage you from getting his pact mark on you. What if you regret it? What if you two have a falling out and you get tired of him? These things are permanent yknow!!

Either way, Levi will be at a loss for words when seeing it for the first time. Might have to slap and pinch himself a few times to know this isn't a dream. You actually tattooed his mark on you? Of all demons, him?!

"Marry me. Like, right now."

Immedeitly freezes up and gets red in the face for blurting that out, and tells you to ignore him. The hands over his face do little to hide his embarrassment.

Gets all stuttery and flustered no matter how many times he's seen it. Every time.

"C-can I touch it? It doesn't hurt still, right? Why would you do that normie kind if thing.. n-not that I don't like it! I just-- ugh! Sorry!"

Let the boy fawn over it. It gives him confidence like nothing ever has or will.

Satan

You wanted to surprise him with it? Too bad; Satan's already figured out you have an appointment and is eager to sit through it by your side.

Is visably taken aback once he realizes it's his pact mark that you're getting tattooed. Wide-eyed, speechless, yet has that excited sparkle in his eye.

Watches every stab of the tattoo gun intently. You can't tell what it's in his head as he doesn't provide much of a reaction. You notice how his hand twitches whenever the excesses ink or spots of blood have to be wiped away, but he keeps it at his lap.

It takes Satan all of his composure not to assault you with kisses after it's done. He knows there's a healing process and will take it upon himself to do most of the healing for it. Has the biggest, most genuine and soft smile you've ever seen on him once it's finalized.

Is very careful, tender even, when caring for it while its healing. The way his fingers trail over it while applying ointment is feather like.

"It looks really good on you. Didn't think you'd go that far but.. thank you. I love you."

Even in his most irritating of days, the avatar of wrath softens upon seeing his mark on you.

Satan presses his hand over it when he's sure you're asleep. It's like feeling your heartbeat. Intimate, calming.. a reassurance of your feelings towards him that keep him sane and loved.

[vivwritesfics]

Can you do a James Potter fic where you and Sirius argue over who he loves more

This didn't quite go the way of the request - more reader gets pissed at sirius for always demanding james' attention

Paper hit the back of her head for the fifth time in the space of a minute. She let out a sigh as she looked at Remus, her desk partner. "Your boyfriend is annoying," she said to him and he stood his head.

"He just wants attention from your boyfriend," he mumbled as they tried to get on with their work. But it was damn near impossible, and Sirius was unrelenting.

When a particularly large piece of paper hit the back of her head, Y/N turned around with an exasperated sigh. The next piece of paper smacked her directly in the face. "Sirius!" She hissed. "Stop. It. Now." James blew her a kiss.

Something hit her desk and Y/N turned back around, sheepishly looking up at Professor Slughorn. "Is my lesson really that boring, Miss L/N?" He asked and she shook her head as as returned her eyes to her parchment.

It didn't just happen in potions. It happened all day every day. At first Y/N blamed Remus for not giving Sirius enough attention, but that didn't matter. Remus could have had his entire focus on Sirius, and it still wouldn't have been enough.

Under James' attention, he thrived.

Y/N was not allowed a moment alone with her boyfriend. It wasn't something they discussed, but Sirius wouldn't let them have a moment alone.

It got to the point where they had to try and hide away in broom closets or secret passageways. Anywhere to get away from Sirius. But, with the held of the Marauders map, he always found them.

"Fucking hell Sirius!" She finally snapped. "Can we have five minutes, please! Five fucking minutes!"

Sirius looked at her, his eyes wide. "Jesus, Y/N," he mumbled as he looked towards James.

"No, don't look at him for help." She turned towards James. "Don't try and help him."

James stepped back, his hands held up defensively. "He's all yours," he said to his girlfriend, and she sent him a sweet smile.

The smile dropped from her face when she turned back towards Sirius. "All I want is a moment alone with my boyfriend. One single moment! And you're always there. Why are you always there? Why are you so annoying?"

Sirius looked from side to side. He looked past her, at James, and then back at her. "Is that it? Are you done?"

"I'm going to hit you."

She hit him. It wasn't hard, but Sirius still covered his face, protecting his hair probably. "Okay! Okay! Fine! I'll go bother Remus then."

When he walked out of the broom closet and shut his door behind him, she threw her arms around James. "There," she said as she looked up at him. "Problem solved."

James kissed her. "You're brilliant, you are."

[seventven]

Okay but my coworker put this up and I went “does…does that say Barnes?” “Yeah that’s his last name..”

omg okay but this immediately resulted in me writing a fic in my head so here goes nothing:

prompt: “does... does that say barnes?”

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 1.4k+

warnings: literally just fluff

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for months so enjoy 

It was just another typical Tuesday morning at Y/N’s job. With her apron on and hair pulled back, Y/N regarded the floor to ceiling stack of cardboard boxes before her. They had just received their delivery of supplies that morning and Y/N was tasked with the damn near impossible mission of finding some hazelnut coffee syrup for one of their regular customers.

Her fingers drifted over the labels on the boxes and it must’ve been at least five minutes before she found the box she was looking for. It took another three for her to dig it out from beneath all the other boxes, locate a knife and cut through the tape to finally pull out the bottle she was looking for.

With a bright smile across her face and feeling satisfied with her small victory, Y/N emerged from the stock room and looked to where the customer stood only minutes before. Y/N’s smile faltered when she realised she was already sitting at one of the tables, sipping away at a tea rather than her usual hazelnut latte. All that work for nothing...

Y/N’s colleague turned to her with an amused smile, fingers drifting over the screen of the cash register as she took down another order.

“She changed her mind about the coffee. Sorry, babe.”

Y/N released a tired breath and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. She looked around for something to do; it was a pretty quiet morning but when Y/N asked her friend if she needed any help, the other girl nodded towards the list of orders stuck to the side of the counter. 

They were printed receipts with the customers’ last names scribbled messily at the bottom in blue ink. Y/N snatched the first one in line and felt her heart skip a beat at the name written below the list of items requested.

Nervous, and refusing the scan tables on the other side of the counter, Y/N took a step closer to her friend and lowered her voice.

“Does... Does that say Barnes?”

The other girl offered her a cheeky grin and an innocent shrug of her shoulders. It was like she did it on purpose; made sure that no one else had picked up the order but her, and Y/N wanted to tell her how much she hated her at that particular moment in time, but she figured the older lady on the other side of the counter would not have been pleased. 

“He’s asked for his usual,” her colleague told her, her smile never faltering. With a cheeky wink, she turned back to the customer in front of her and left Y/N to deal with his order.

It was Bucky. Bucky Barnes. The guy who had a habit of coming in for a pretzel and a lemonade every couple of days. The guy who always told her how pretty she looked and always stuck around for a few minutes to ask about her day. 

He was a charmer; it could not be denied, and all the girls who worked with Y/N would made little teasing comments about how jealous they were Bucky always seemed to want to talk to no one but her. Y/N was flattered, truly, and she would have been lying if she said she didn’t think he was cute. He showered her with compliments - even when she was on opening shifts and barely had the time to run a brush through her hair before starting - and there were a few incidents where he’d ask what she was doing after work.

The thing was, he was handsome, yes. And cute, and polite and so damn charming; but he just seemed... too good to be real. Y/N had had her fair share of messy break ups and suspiciously nice dates that later turned sour, and frankly, she didn’t really feel like going through something like that again.

“He asked about you again, you know?” Her colleague came to whisper in her ear just as Y/N was scooping ice into a plastic cup. “I don’t know why you don’t just agree to go on a date with him. The guy has been pining over you for months!”

“Exactly! Most people would have moved on by now.”

“The majority of people would do just about anything for a guy as attractive as him to pay them any sort of attention and you’re complaining because he’s... what? Too smitten by you?”

Y/N shot her a warning look.

“I’m gonna go give him his lemonade and you’re gonna get off my case about him, okay?”

The other girl grinned, already walking away. “Not until you finally go on a date with him!”

Y/N rolled her eyes and took off in the opposite direction, setting his lemonade down onto the collection desk.

Bucky approached without her even having to call his name, and there was that same friendly smile she knew so well playing across his lips. His cheeks were rosy from the cold air outside, and he was wearing a scarf and a warm leather jacket, hands deep in his pockets.

“You look really great today,” he smiled, and Y/N felt her face heating up despite fully expecting the compliment. She didn’t remember a single time Bucky hadn’t complimented her in some way. 

“Thanks,” she muttered shyly, sliding the cup across the surface of the counter. He picked it up gingerly and wrapped his lips around the straw. He took a long sip, then nodded his head in approval.

“How’s your day going?” He was all smiles, that same glint in his eyes Y/N was so used to. He always had such a friendly demeanour, and his smile always made Y/N want to smile, too. It was annoying.

“Very slow,” she admitted with a sigh. “Yours?”

Bucky expelled a little chuckle, as if he knew something she didn’t. So when Y/N quirked a brow inquisitively, Bucky reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. 

“Your friend wrote down your phone number on my receipt,” he laughed, and held out the piece of paper for Y/N to take. She unfolded it slowly and glanced towards her friend who looked like a deer in headlights behind the cash register.

Bucky continued. “As much as I appreciate her trying to help me out, I figured you wouldn’t want me having this, so I’m giving it back.”

Y/N bit her lip, looking at the digits scribbled messily under the printed order. She regarded her colleague’s hand writing for a long moment and then, on a hasty impulse that Y/N simply couldn’t resist, she held her hand out and offered the paper back to him.

“I’m okay with you keeping it,” she told him, already feeling herself grow shy.

Bucky looked seriously taken aback, eyeing her with suspicion, one eyebrow raised. He looked almost hesitant to accept it, but after several seconds of Y/N holding out her arm, he took it between his index and middle fingers and placed it back in his pocket.

“Are you sure?”

Y/N nodded her head.

“I’ve got to say, I expected you to be angry about this,” he admitted, lips curled up into a smile. “Especially with the amount of times you’ve turned me down.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, honestly not believing that she was actually doing this. 

“I, uh... I’ve reconsidered.”

Bucky said nothing, only regarded her expression for a long moment. It was as if he was trying to read her.

Y/N took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. He was so damn cute and Y/N’s self-restraint was finally beginning to crumble. Maybe it was time to start dating again, and who better to begin with that the nicest guy she had met in months?

“I finish work at six today,” she blurted before she could stop herself. “If you’re around...”

Bucky looked surprised but tried to appear cool and composed. Y/N liked that he was failing miserably at hiding his true feelings; he almost looked shy. 

“Wait, really?”

Y/N only nodded, refusing to turn her head and look in the direction of her colleague. Y/N could feel her eyes on them the whole time, watching them like they were on some silly TV show she couldn’t tear her gaze away from. She must’ve found how flustered Y/N had become beyond entertaining.

Bucky cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, I’ll be around.” The enthusiasm in his tone was clear, the nod of his head further signalling his eagerness.

“Cool,” she managed weakly, so fucking shy at this whole interaction. “I, uh- I gotta get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Bucky grinned from ear to ear, remaining facing her as he took a few steps back from the counter. He almost bumped into the person standing behind him; the cute elderly lady from before. 

He apologised quickly, cheeks reddening in embarrassment at his own clumsiness, and Y/N was thankful it wasn’t just her who felt flustered. Bucky was in the same boat. 

“Bye Bucky,” she smiled, offering him a small wave as he retreated towards the exit.

“See you later, Y/N.”

[siyooungi]

Hi there! May I request a Chaeyoung (Fromis_9) fluff wherein the reader has a crush on her despite Chae being her best friend's sister.

Thank you <3

Pairings: Chaeyoung x Fem!Reader

Idol: Lee Chaeyoung (Fromis_9)

Warning(s): None!

-

“So, you’ll be staying over?” Your best friend asked over the phone. You hummed, acting as if you were thinking. Of course, you were going to. You loved being over at their house, for more reasons than you’d like to admit.

“Maybe, maybe not.” You responded, earning a scream from the other end, causing you to chuckle. “Of course, I will!” You reassured as you began packing your stuff.

“Good, I’ll see you in a few!” They said before quickly hanging up the phone. You couldn’t help but shake your head at your friend’s antics and plop your phone on the bed as you continued to pack.

It didn’t take you long and you were out of the house within a few minutes. Your friend’s house wasn’t too far and you could just walk there, to which you did. It was a five minute walk and you arrived in no time.

You walked up the steps to the door and knocked, waiting for your best friend to open the door. To your surprise, their sister opened the door instead. You froze, your eyes slightly widening at the beauty in front of you. She was smiling down at you and you were too stunned to realize she was saying hello.

“O-oh, hey!” You greeted as your grip tightened on the strap of your bag, feeling nervous under her gaze. She chuckled before resting her arm on the door frame, taking note of your nervousness.

“Come in, they’re upstairs.” She said as she moved out of the way, allowing you inside. You smiled and slightly bowed your head as a thank you.

She closed and locked the door behind the both of you and your friend must’ve heard the noise because in the next few seconds, they came running down the stairs.

Not wanting to get in the way, Chaeyoung made her upstairs and went to her room. You were too focused on watching her leave to see your friend rushing towards you. You felt the wind knocked out of you when they pulled you in for a bone crushing hug as if they hadn’t seen you in weeks.

You couldn’t help but giggle as they lifted you up. “I saw you two days ago!” You said in between laughs as they placed you back on the floor. “Long enough!” They responded, picking up your bag and making their way to the stairs.

You followed them as they went up the stairs. They were going on about how they felt so lonely without you. You found yourself laughing as their dramatics only amplified once they reached their bedroom, which was right next to Chaeyoung’s.

You went to sit on their bed as they placed your stuff next to the dresser before joining you on the bed and getting comfortable.

You always enjoyed staying over, but the presence of a certain someone always made nervousness arise within you and any time you would do any tasks outside of your friend’s room, they were damn near impossible when she was around.

You always wanted to facepalm yourself for being a nervous wreck around her. Chaeyoung had this effect on you and you find yourself often speechless or just in awe when she was around. It was one thing being in the same space as her, but hearing her voice was enough for you to go crazy.

Every time you’d hear her in the background when you were on the phone with your friend or when she’d pop up in frame for a split second when you both were on facetime, only further had you deep in your thoughts. So deep in your thoughts that your friend would have to call your name a few times and ask if you were listening, just to snap you out of it.

“Are you hungry?” Your friend asked as they turned on the tv before turning to face you, ripping you out of your thoughts. “Honestly, yeah.” You responded, causing them to stand up and make their way to the door, but not before signaling you to follow. You hastily stood up and followed them down the stairs.

What do you didn’t expect was for Chaeyoung to be in the kitchen. You stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted her.

“Can you buy us some food..?” Your best friend asked as they tried their best to appeal to their sister, causing her to lift her eyebrows with a smile.

“I don’t know, should I?” She teased, resulting in a pout from your friend. Deciding to help them out, you stepped forward and also tried to appeal Chaeyoung.

“You really should..” You spoke as you looked up at her, giving the best puppy eyes you could muster. Internally, you felt embarrassed by your actions alone and you knew your friend would tease you about it later.

“How cute.” Chaeyoung cooed as she squeezed your cheek, causing you to grimace. She released your cheek and sighed, nodding her head. “How can I resist?“ She questioned more so to herself, earning a gasp from your best friend.

“You can resist me but not her?” They dramatically put their hand on their chest and feigned offense from their sister’s words. Now it was your turn to laugh and Chaeyoung joined in on your laughter.

“What can I say? She’s too cute.” She admitted as she caressed your hair, nearly causing you to go into cardiac arrest. You thought you were hiding your inner panic pretty well, but not to your best friend. As soon as Chaeyoung’s hand left your head and she opened her phone to order the food, they squinted their eyes at you.

Your eyes were locked onto Chaeyoung and you were completely disregarding your friend’s existence, causing their eyes to widen in realization. “Chaeng, we’ll be right back!” They spoke, not leaving any room for Chaeyoung to respond before they grabbed your arm and dragged you back up the stairs. She watched the two of you questionably, but shrugged her shoulders and went back on her phone to confirm the order.

Your friend pushed you onto their bed and closed the door behind them. You nearly fell off the bed and had to stable yourself. “You like my sister, don’t you?” They questioned as they pointed at you, causing your eyes to cross as your vision focused on their finger.

“What?!” You shouted as you looked at them with wide eyes. They put their hands on their hips and paced around the room, your eyes following their every move. “Oh. My. God.” They whispered to themself as they came to a sudden stop. “You like my sister!” They squealed as they sharply turned to face you, a smile now forming on their face.

“N-no, I don’t!” You quickly responded, standing up and waving your hands dismissively. They started laughing and you just stood there, looking at them as if they’re crazy.

“I was right all along.” They spoke triumphantly after their laughter died down. You were at a loss for words and had mixed emotions towards the situation.

“It’s so obvious— if anything, that means you’ll come over more often if you both get together!” They said giddily as they plopped onto the bed. All you could do was stare at them.

Before you could even think to say anything, there was a knock at the door before it opened. “The food will be here in less than-“ Chaeyoung wasn’t able to finish her sentence when your friend stood up and made their way to your side, interrupting her.

“Y/N likes-“ You quickly placed your hand over their mouth, averting your attention from them and to Chaeyoung. “Thanks!” You spoke before quickly slamming the door in her face.

Your friend removed your hand from their mouth and bursted out laughing, falling onto the floor. Realizing what you just did, you opened the door again and were met with a surprised Chaeyoung. “I’m sorry!” You apologized as you went to her and checked to see if she was okay. She chuckled at your concern and placed a hand on your lower back.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” She reassured with a smile, causing your friend to pause their laughter and look up. You both looked down at them and they began laughing again.

The cat is out of the bag and there was no way you could defend yourself now.

[andr0medafallen]

The Gaslight

A/N: Reposting old fics. Lightly revised.

Pairing: Llewyn Davis x Reader

Warnings: Existential dread, depictions of smoking, brief mention of cancer in relation to smoking, kind of fluffy ig?, lmk if i need to add anything

Description: New York isn't anywhere near as great as it's portrayed by Frank Sinatra or any of the greats of your time. Maybe the only person with a chance at changing your mind about that is someone who feels the exact same way.

Word Count: 2.1k

Everyone who says that there is “so much to do in New York” is wrong. There’s plenty of random bullshit to do the first couple hundred days living there, and then by the time you’re so over it that you’d rather be doing anything else, you’re stuck because you sold your car for rent and you don’t have enough energy or ambition to send out resumes to employers outside of the city and wait one million years for a letter of rejection. You suppose that that may be the reason the telephone had been invented, but every time you even touch the damned machine, you're overwhelmed with a debilitating flood of anxiety that only goes away after you’ve promised yourself you’ll never touch it again. Honestly, it would probably be best to stop spending the crippling $25 a month for the rotary, but you’d have to call the phone company, and that falls under the list of things you would not like to do.

What may come as a surprise to the vast amounts of small-towners moving to the big city is that the over-romantacized gum spattered streets, unaffordable rent, and constant rat infestations all get old really fast. But how can you honestly judge? You were one of those small-town girls with big dreams, once.

Maybe what you really hate about New York is its tendency to point out the worst in you. Somehow being constantly surrounded by 7.78 million people only manages to make you feel more lonely. As if the city is pointing out that even when it is impossible to avoid people, as you often yearn to do, you are still incapable of making a single genuine friend.

As if it’s any sort of consolation, once you realize that there is nothing to do in New York, you start finding like-minded individuals. It was those very like-minded individuals who led you to The Gaslight today. Course, you weren’t here with anyone. You just got handed a flier at Donna’s apartment. So here you were, at The Gaslight Cafe. Sticky tables, dirty floors, some sort of New Yorker reputation that you were blissfully unaware of.

When you entered the bar, the singer hadn’t yet made his appearance.You were five minutes late, but it was the city, so of course that made you ten minutes early. Honestly though, the room was actually kind of nice. It all seemed so comfortable and modern with its stone walls and chic lamps and real wood tables. The room was low-lit with a couple of warm-toned spotlights pointing towards the stage, where an empty oak-wood chair and a metal mic sat. No matter how hard it tried, though, it still didn’t beat the classic dilemma of any bar: Beer-sticky surfaces and the smell of tobacco, hanging in the air like a sacred canopy.

When you were younger you had been a regular at plenty of different venues in your hometown. Some were all ages and family-friendly, some were teenage rock’n’roller’s garages, and plenty were bars like this one where the owners innocently turned a blind eye to your baby face. Those bars usually had vinyl tables, though. What your teenage hangouts all had in common, though, was that you had known people there. The owners, maybe a drummer or two. Plenty of boy-crazy lasses and lads. Maybe you were jaded, but you’ve been finding it harder and harder to remember what it’s like to know and be known. Some days, maybe even today, you thought of what it would be like to build that sort of community for yourself, and the task felt near impossible. 

On the bright side, your concert-going experience meant that you knew the best places to sit when you went to this sort of thing; Close enough to the singer so that you could see them, but not so close that it would seem like you cared.

You’d almost finished your first drink when the singer came out. His curly hair was messily piled atop his head and he wore clothes that were very obviously picked out from a thrift store or a clearance rack. Of course, you were the last to judge, because you certainly did the same. It had been a long time since you had been able to afford anything on the main floor of a Macy’s. But honestly, the rugged look suited him. His olive skin looked pale, as if he never went outside except for on his commute to these nighttime gigs, like a modern-day vampire, and his eyes looked tired, like they held the murky depths of the Hudson in them. You wondered how he would be spending his Sunday night if he weren’t here.

All of this was just idle thought though, the bored wonderings of someone who was just about ready for a second drink. It’s not like you cared. That is, until he started playing. You remembered the shows from when you were young, played by fellow adolescents jamming out to Elvis Presley and Howlin’ Wolf. You thought they were so fun, yet still usually left early to go fuck around somewhere else. This was nothing like that. When the singer's deft fingers gracefully twirled between strings, when his voice sang a song of anguish passed down generation to generation, you had never felt so seen. You thought maybe this was it. Some sort of sign that it was alright now and you no longer had to spend every day worrying about bills and how to put your next meal on the table. You didn’t even go to the bar for another drink, you were too enraptured. 

When your thoughts did wander, it was all about that man sitting on that chair on the low-hanging stage strumming a guitar. You wanted to know his whole life story. How he ended up here, how he couldn’t leave. Maybe he was a traveling musician, but maybe he was like you. Like Sisyphus, being pushed back into the confines of the city any time he tried to escape its grasp.

When his last song ended you felt like crying. Maybe you already had been crying. Sometimes it was hard for you to pay attention to that sort of thing. Sometimes you get so enraptured by the music that you can’t even manage to wipe your tear streaks until the end of the song, when you frantically will them away with the sleeve of your sweater and the will of a god. This was one of those times.

There really was no real reason to stay once he’d finished his set. You were fairly far from drunk, but hopefully intoxicated enough that you wouldn’t have a lot of trouble getting to sleep. With one last glance at the singer, you slipped out the side door into the freezing New York winter. You were far from cold, though, because when you looked back through the door, your eyes met his brown bark gaze, heating your cheeks with a rosy warmth. You quickly tore your eyes away and shut the alleyway door before fumbling with your cigarette case. Your quickly numbing fingers took their time flicking the lighter going, but once you managed it, you took a deep inhale, hands cupped in front of the cigarette cradled by your lips. The smoke burned through you, warming you from the inside out.

You glanced at the door as it creaked open next to you, once again inhaling from your cigarette. You knew it was a bad habit and apparently some doctors now believed that it caused cancer or something, but you couldn’t remember the last time that you actually cared. 

Once your own cloud of shit smelling cigarettes (you bought the cheap stuff, 25 cents a pack) dissipated, you realized that it wasn’t some trash man or drunk guy needing to puke, but your very own sad man in thrifted clothing holding a beat-up hard shell guitar case. Your heart fluttered, standing this close to him. It was your fatal flaw as a New Yorker, one that you refused to admit to anyone. You got starstruck so stupid easily. Usually not even by stars. Sure, you live in New York and there are plenty all over this shithole city,but it’s the smaller ones you adore. You couldn’t give a shit about Frank Sinatra, but one time you saw your favorite 6pm News anchor grocery shopping in Manhattan and got so excited that a paparazzo started taking pictures hoping that it was some B-List celebrity that he wasn’t familiar with.

And so, when you stood in front of this man, who was not famous, and who you hadn’t even known –of– for very long, but you felt like you might burst into flames in his presence.

He had this aura about him that preached of pain and empty hope and that somehow called to you like a beautiful sonnet.

He even had the audacity to look surprised to see you, as if you hadn’t made eye contact  when you’d used this door just a few minutes prior. It was clear that he had come out the side exit rather than the front exit in some attempt to avoid having to talk to people, and you thought about letting him do just that, but maybe you still believed in fate just a bit, and maybe she was giving you a second shot just now. You weren’t one to ignore divine interference.

You silently offered him your cigarette, and he seemed to consider it for a moment before settling against the red brick wall beside you and accepting it. You don’t miss how his eyes seem to darken as they take in the red smudges which your lips had placed on the tipping paper just moments ago. He takes a hit from the half-smoked cigarette and there is something so casually intimate about the both of you sweetly caressing a lifeless piece of paper rolled with death and dopamine without a single direct touch between you.

When he made no move to speak, you took the initiative. “I liked your set,” you mumbled, taking the joint. You blew out the smoke in a steady stream. You knew plenty of folks who thought that blowing rings made them all sophisticated or whatnot, but anytime you did it you felt like a JRR Tolkien character–the old wizard guy. Gandalf? The singer (who still hadn’t told you his name) exhaled his smoke in puffs, like little storm-clouds.

“No, it's… it’s not.” His response made no sense in the context of what you had said, but somehow you understood its meaning anyway. That feeling of incompetence, where no amount of praise can make up for any past rejection.

“Well. I liked it,” you responded coolly, as if his opinion on his own music obviously meant less than yours. You turned towards him. The new angle revealed how close the two of you truly were, less than a foot away from each other, and it made your heart increase a few paces.

When you told him your name, it elicited the tiniest of smiles in response, and he held out his hand for you to shake. He didn’t seem to smile much, but he still had the most beautiful laugh lines around his eyes. You shook his outreached hand, its warmth dulling the stinging pain of the cold.

“Llewyn Davis,” He introduced, before pulling his hand back to his side. A part of you missed his warmth already.

“Llewyn.” You tested the word out on your lips, drawing it out slowly as if tasting it. “It’s a pretty name.”

Llewyn’s eyes crinkled in response, and you responded in kind with a toothy grin. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

“Well, thanks for the smoke. I should probably head home before anyone starts worrying,” he spoke, snubbing out the spent cigarette on the brick wall and readying up his guitar case.

As he turned away to leave, you raised an eyebrow at the man, not quite believing his story. “And where is home for you, Llewyn?”

He turned back towards you, surprised by your antics, and shrugged. “Anywhere with a nice enough couch, I suppose.”

You smirked at him, giddy at having caught him in his white lie. “Well I can’t say my couch cost more than twenty dollars, but my heater works. Deal?”

The way his eyes seemed to soften at your words made you unbelievably happy. He wasn’t quite smiling, but he seemed so much less stressed.

“That’s…that’s really nice of you,” Llewyn mumbled. You hesitantly reached forward and took his hand, fingers brushing his palm before closing around his calloused left hand, which had so expertly been holding down bar chords and hammer-ons moments before. He squeezed your hand in response, as if to tell you that this gentle act of intimacy was acceptable. When he saw you looking up at him expectantly, he realized that he hadn’t yet answered your question. “Yeah, deal.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Little Dove ~ JJK [Part Three] [M] [Request]

⤜WORD COUNT: 3.3K

⤜PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader 

⤜GENRE: PLEASE DON’T READ IF YOU’RE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, smut, angst, cock warming, intimate, romantic, sex without protection (wrap it before you tap it), multiple orgasms

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2022

⤜MASTERLIST

Parts [ONE] [TWO]

A/N: After this one I will no longer be writing for this fic I hope you understand. I just feel its reached a finale and I don’t want to keep pushing it further than I have. Thanks x 

To say that seeing you with Felix a lot was bugging Jungkook would be a complete understatement. The biggest understatement of the year. In fact, it was pissing him off to high heavens to see you being around him so much. Jungkook didn't seem to understand what it was about Felix that made you stay around him so much. 

Ever since Chi had left the two of you he'd been on you like a second skin, always wanting to be around you. Always asking about what plans you had and wanting to be around you 24 hours a day which was damn near impossible but he tried. 

"Are you okay?" Felix's voice was laced with concern, you'd been checking your phone non-stop since coming to town together. It was supposed to be a relaxing shopping trip but you'd been too worried Jungkook was going to realise you were lying about where you were.

"Fine...I feel bad for lying to him," You admitted, glancing to Felix who was giving you sympathetic eyes. Today was supposed to be about him and yet here you were, selfishly, making it about you.

"You didn't have to lie, you could have invited him along..." You couldn't have. If Jungkook knew you were going to be spending time with Felix he would do nothing but try and prove a point to the younger man. It was all he ever did.

It started small with kisses, cuddles and the usual kind of PDA that couples would have but it slowly developed into trying to fuck you while Felix was in the room or tease you to the brink of a whimper and sending Felix away. 

"Does he hate me that much?" Felix chuckled lifting the glass of hot chocolate to his lips and blowing softly, it wasn't that he hated him. Jungkook feared the worse and you knew why, Chi had ruined everything when she did what she did and you were left alone. Scrambling to pick up the pieces of Jungkook's shattered heart so you could place them back together again.

"He doesn't hate you at all, he's just-" You sighed looking at your phone screen. A photo of what was originally the three of you together but cropped to just you and Jungkook. It made you sad to think back on the memories the three of you had over five years. 

"He's just not very trusting toward people," You mumbled, locking your phone and placing it into your handbag. Lying to Jungkook was wrong and you knew that you were going to pay for it sooner or later but right now you wanted to be with your friend. It was his birthday and you were going to make sure he had the best day possible. Besides your complaining and checking your phone every two minutes. 

"What movie shall we see later? Do you still want to watch Moonfall?" You questioned, meeting your best friend's eyes who was nodding his head. The two of you knew it wasn't what he wanted for his birthday but you'd already proposed the idea to Jungkook and been turned down...Twelve times. So it looked as though a movie was going to be on the cards for you both. 

You hadn't meant to stay out this late, the movie had run on longer than anticipated and it was car to car traffic out there. You figured Jungkook would be asleep by the time you'd get in so you didn't worry about explaining yourself, you could do that in the morning. Seeing your shared apartment in complete darkness set your mind at ease a little and you relaxed heading into the living room.

"You lied to me." You practically jumped out of your skin hearing a voice speak from the darkness that was your apartment. You dropped your bags onto the floor, holding one hand over your heart while the other searched for a light switch,

"Kookie," You breathed out in relief, at least it wasn't some serial killer choosing to sit in the dark and wait for you to come home.

"You lied. You said you were hanging out with Boyoung," He mumbled, looking at you as you remembered what you'd told him. It was a small white lie, telling him you were going to hang out with an old friend rather than with Felix. 

"I-I knew you wouldn't want me to see Felix without you there and it's his birthday this week," It didn't justify lying to him, not when he had such awful trust issues but how else were you supposed to be alone with your best friend. 

"Did you fuck him?" He snapped, his face turning red at the thought you sleeping with someone other than himself and you rolled your eyes.

"No, I didn't. We went shopping, had some hot chocolate before going to watch Moonfall." You searched inside of your handbag for the ticket stump to prove what you said was true but Jungkook was already standing.

"You're sleeping with him, just fucking admit it." You sighed again, looking at Jungkook properly for the first time since you'd come home. There were tear stains down his face and you whined, stepping closer to him but he stepped away from you. 

"Jungkook-"

"You're just like her! You're going to fuck someone else behind my back and leave me!" It was like a stab to the chest as he called that out to you. As if she hadn't also cheated on you, as if it was just him she had broken the heart of. 

"You didn't just say that," You mumbled, dropping your handbag to the floor as you took in his appearance. It wasn't as if he'd been the only one to break down when Chi had left, he'd just been the only one to have someone by his side to help through the pain. 

You, however, had been left to deal with the heartbreak. Forced to put your feelings last while you fixed Jungkook back together piece by broken piece. 

"As if my heart didn't break when she cheated on us?" Your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at him. It had been six months since she cheated, six months of the constant questioning as to where you were going and who you were with. But you never once did that to him. You allowed Jungkook to have his freedom because you trusted him, he had never given you a reason not to. 

"Please, you're happy she's gone." You rolled your eyes, going to sit down on the sofa so you could at least sit down for this one. 

"Why would I be happy Chi is gone? I loved her, as did you." You stared at him, leaning your back against the back of the sofa as you tried to get a serious answer out of him. But there wasn't one, Jungkook had no reason not to trust you but he was blinded by his heartbreak.

"We were together before we met you, you didn't love her as much as I did," You closed your eyes, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you listened to what he was saying. He had to realise that what he was saying was not even close to the truth. You'd loved her more than you ever thought you could love anybody else in the world.

You'd been so lucky to find two people in one lifetime you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. The two people you were planning on starting a family with.

Tears began to escape your eyes as you sniffled, you'd been holding it in for so long it was only bound to come out sooner or later. All of the heartbreak you'd only allowed to escape when Jungkook wasn't home or you were with Felix, finally bubbling.

"Do you really think that? Do you really think that I didn't love her?" Jungkook stared at you as he noticed the tears running down your cheeks. He hadn't seen you cry over Chi, he hadn't seen anything past his own pain.

"No...I was-"

"Do you think it was easy for me to pick you up when I was falling apart? Each time I thought maybe, hey he might console me, you shot me down. You screamed at me, telling me that I had no idea what you were going through. As if I wasn't going through the exact pain as you were." You didn't care if it seemed harsh anymore, you didn't want to hold it back any longer than you had been. Jungkook deserved to know how much it pained you to go through this every day.

"You don't see me stalking your phone, going through every message you have with your friends." You stood up, looking over at the bags you'd bought back with you and back at Jungkook.

"You slept with Felix," He mumbled, referring back to the one time all four of you had been together. One time.

"We'd been together once when you were there. And right now? Felix has been here for me when no one else was when I felt completely alone despite having a boyfriend who was doing everything to push me away." Jungkook stayed silent as he watched you, you'd began digging around in your handbag for the ticket you'd gotten in the movie theatre and handed it to him.

"Proof that I'd gone to watch a movie, if you like I can recite it. Tell you which scene happened at what time, to prove that Felix and I only went to watch a movie," Tears were streaming down your cheeks but you hadn't bothered to wipe them, you knew it was going to keep happening.

"Yn, I trust you..." His voice cracked as he realised what he was doing to you. In not trusting you, he'd made you more upset than you needed to be. 

"I didn't mean to..." He sighed trying to think of the right words to say but there was nothing he could say to make any of this right.

"I didn't mean to make it seem as though I don't. I trust you...I trust Felix-" You looked at him before walking into his arms. You were too tired to fight, you were exhausted and all you wanted to do was go to bed in the arms of your boyfriend. 

"I'm sorry I've been a bad boyfriend," He whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing your body closer to his. It wasn't that he was being a shitty boyfriend, you understand why he was in a bad place and you weren't going to hold it against him.

"You weren't a bad boyfriend-"

"I didn't see when my girlfriend was clearly in pain, I focused on myself instead." He said as he cut you off, he wasn't going to let you brush what he had done under the rug. Not when it was more important to him that you understood he wasn't going to let you feel alone again.

"Let's go to bed, I'm tired." You whined a little, discarding the bags on the floor. You could put everything away tomorrow when you weren't so tired and needed to feel close to your boyfriend.

"Can we do what we used to?" You questioned as you began to head up the stairs, Jungkook was behind you with his hand wrapped in yours tightly.

"You're going to have to be more specific, little dove." The nickname was enough to stop you in your tracks, turning your head to look at him. It had been six months since that name had left his lips. You didn't think he would ever want to call you it ever again seeing as how it was her name for you.

"Kookie?"

"Yes, little dove?" He smirked, he knew exactly what the nickname did to you and he loved it. He could see how your thighs would clench together and how you would grow a little unsteady on your feet. 

When you didn't answer him he whined, starting to walk you up the staircase toward your shared bedroom. The bed had felt too big as of late with just the two of you but somehow as soon as Jungkook held you in his arms it felt smaller. 

"What would you like to do?" He questioned as he freed you from your outfit, dressing you in one of his shirts and laying you down on the bed with him. As small as the gesture was, you couldn't help but tear up as you snuggled closer to him. You were cuddled with your head in his chest, kissing his muscles softly as he rubbed your back with his hands. 

"Be close with you," You admitted shyly, no matter how much time would pass you were still a little shy when it came to some things.

"Close how?" You could hear the smirk in his voice, he knew exactly how you wanted to be close with him he just wanted to hear the words come from your lips. 

"Don't tease," You grumbled as he laughed, rubbing your back before turning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. 

It didn't take long for his fingers to work their way up between your thighs, chuckling deeply as you push your hips back against his cock. He was hard and you could already picture his huge cock throbbing which in turn made you wetter at the thought of it. 

"I need you to be close," You admitted as you pushed your panties down, taking his hand in yours and rubbing your clit with his fingers. The moan you let out was almost pornographic, it had been too long since he'd touched you like this and you were desperate to feel him. 

"It might hurt a little," He whispered in your ear as he began to rub his already hard cock, moaning a little. It had been a long time since he'd even touched himself, he had no idea how he'd managed to abstain from you for so long.

"You're soaked, love," He moans out as he keeps rubbing your clit with one of his hands, moaning in your ear whenever you would roll your hips back.

"I need you," You didn't care if you sounded desperate and needed, you needed him to be inside of you. Grabbing you by the hips he slowly bared into you, your juices coating him as you both whimpered loudly. 

The two of you lay still as he keeps himself pressed into the deepest parts of you, your head spun as you tried to ignore the pinching and burning feeling you got. It had been far too long since you'd let yourself get off, you weren't exactly used to his cock anymore.

"R-Relax baby, it's just me." He whispered as he moved his hands up to your shirt, cupping your breasts in his hands as he began to massage them. Automatically your hips rolled causing you both to moan out in pleasure, 

"F-Fuck I missed you," You moaned out as he continued to thrust a few more inches inside of you, your mouth falling open as you moaned his name out. It had been too long since Jungkook had felt your cunt around him and he grunted, trying to hold back his impending orgasm. It was too soon for him to fill you up, he wanted to give you everything he had.

"I-I love you," He moaned out as he continued to fuck into you, your hips rolling back to meet his. It wasn't fast or rough it was intimate and romantic, each thrust of his cock was so filled with love you felt as though you were going to burst. 

"F-Feels so full," You cried out hands reaching out for something to grasp onto, you gripped the sheets as he chuckled.

"Do you like it? Did you miss feeling full of me, little dove?" He growled, his voice deepening only a little as he continued to thrust into you. Your eyes drooped with a hazy desire and he whimpered, something inside of him snapped seeing you in such a state. The animalistic side of him couldn't be held back as he began to thrust a little faster into you,

"Look at you, so full of my cock." He grunted, holding your hips in his hands as he continued to pound in and out of you as you screamed his name out. Each of your whimpers and moans was his aphrodisiac and he couldn't help but lose control while he was deep inside of you.

It felt too good to be inside of you, to be able to forget everything Chi had ever done to you and Jungkook. Now it was just the two of you and it felt more special than ever.

"S-Shit! Jungkook!" You screamed as you were suddenly put onto your hands and knees, his hands pinning your chest down onto the bed so he could angle your ass up the way he liked. The way you screamed louder for him, god it always felt as though he was right in your gut whenever he thrust into you like this.

"Ruining the sheets baby, just like old times." He laughed deeply as he reached down with one hand to rub your clit. As if it was a magic button you'd cum instantly around his huge throbbing cock but he didn't stop. He grunted loudly as he continued to fuck into your hole, looking at you as you turned your head to look over your shoulder.

"L-Look at you, ruined with one simple orgasm." He moaned out as he could feel himself getting closer to his own release. He was too out of practice and he hated that, he wanted to make you cum more times than you could count but he couldn't.

"W-Want your cum," You moaned out as you rolled your hips, staring him in the eyes as he lost control. Fuck, if you looked at him like that the whole time he never would have made it this far. There was a sense of neediness in your eyes a look that made it impossible to stare away from you.

"Does it feel good baby? To beg for my cum again?" He growled as he looked at you, driving himself in and out of you deeply as you moaned out.

"Y-Yes! Oh...Fuck! Yes!" You screamed out as you gripped onto the headboard, forgetting everything around you as you allowed yourself to give in to the pleasure. 

Jungkook upped his rhythm and you were gasping, your mouth hanging open as he fucked harder.

Your breath catches in your throat and he moaned out as you cum around him, your orgasm sending ripples through your body as you're left shaking around his dick.

"Jungkook!" You screamed out loudly as he released inside of you. Holding your hips tightly in his hands as he continued to maintain eye contact with you as he filled you up.

The two of you lay there for an hour his cock still buried inside of you as he smiles. His fingers were running up and down your spine softly as he pressed kisses just below the back of your neck.

"I'll make up for lost time...I-I'll make you cum so much you forget your name." He whined as he looked at you, your head rested on the pillow too tired to move.

"You don't have to make up for the lost time. Just don't ever get withdrawn again, I missed you." You sounded pained as you took his hands into yours at the front of your body, closing your eyes. 

"Just love me forever," It was almost begging but you didn't care, all you cared about was having Jungkook close to you from now until forever. For the rest of your lives.

"I promise." He whispered, pressing another kiss on your neck as he thought back to the ring he'd bought months ago. A ring he wanted to propose to you both with but now he knew for sure.

It was only you that he needed in his life.

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