#it took him 6 hours to push them out

[axstoria]

Tim and Cass being so alike that Bruce just can't wrap his head around it.

Tim found him long after Jason had already died, and he knew him from several galas that his parents had dragged him to. He nurtured Bruce back to sanity, became his Robin, and acted more like a father to him than he did to Tim.

Cass was another story completely that most days, he couldn't bear to remember. Still, like with all his other children, how could he see a broken, dark-haired child and NOT want to adopt them?

Their resemblance kills Bruce on the inside. Both have short, dark hair that just barely gets in their big eyes, and it makes Bruce want to just wrap them up in his cape and keep them with him forever.

While Tim's eyes are blue and Cass' are so dark, they're nearly black, it doesn't matter! They're twins, he swears to women at galas when he has on his Brucie persona, because there's no other way to explain it.

Both are lean and built in relatively the same way, their facial shapes eerily similar, and their fighting styles even more so. Both are exceptionally smart and level-headed in battle, fighting so well together like they had a play-by-play running in their heads at the same time.

He knows that they aren't twins because it's simply impossible. Their DNA is completely different, yet he can't help but feel it deep in his bones that those two were meant to be together, forged from the same stardust and pulled together by the universe.

His babies are two sides of the same coin, and Bruce, Batman, nor Brucie could ever really call them anything but siblings.

[prickly-paprikash]

Pushing aside the fact that I am, quite possibly, a Kendrick fan—disregarding my biases, I think Drake needs to stop. Push Ups was a good diss. Surface level, vapid, but it possessed that mean, petty spirit that carries a diss track all the way. Even bringing up accusations that are, realistically speaking, unlikely still works because a diss is supposed to show just how much you hate a person and how cleverly you can bring it.

Taylor Made was weird. I get that it was a strategy. Drop the main diss first and then drop this one to really prod at Kendrick. Using Pac and Snoop AI voices sucks though. Distilling Kendrick as Taylor's underling also doesn't work because Kendrick only collaborated with her once (twice when they remade Bad Blood) and that's it. Meanwhile Drake is out here always looking for new, up and coming artists to pounce on their trends or cling to established artists. Then it got taken down, because of course it would have been. You used 2Pac's voice. Did you really think his estate, his family, wouldn't do anything?

So he bought Pac's ring and used his voice without permission. More and more we see just how much of a vulture Drake is.

And then Euphoria drops.

Your first diss was met with solid reactions. Your second got taken down. Kendrick drops on a random hot Tuesday, and in a matter of hours surpasses your numbers that took weeks to accumulate. Kendrick did that. Euphoria was also harsh, clever, and sounded so good that people kept replaying it over and over again. Once more, Kendrick schools you.

A few insiders then say that Drake will drop that night. Right after. But he then allegedly gets cold feet. A few hours later from when Drake was supposedly ready to drop but backs out, Kendrick drops 6:16 in LA.

In your previous disses, you begged Kendrick to drop something with quintuple entendres. Euphoria did that. But he took it a step further by naming his second diss 6:16 in LA.

June 16: Father's day. Referencing the fact that Drake has been proven to be a deadbeat father.

June 16, 1971: Tupac's Birthday. Kendrick idolizes him. Drake steals from him.

June 16, 2019: First episode of Euphoria drops. A show Drake is listed as a producer on. A show about underage girls entering a life of sex, substance abuse, and more. Things that Drake has been accused of repeatedly in the past.

June 16, 2011: in June 2, 2011, Kendrick posted on his twitter that there will be a concert at Toronto on 6/16. Allegedly this is where Drake and Kendrick first met.

6:16 AM: The time of release for this track.

6:16: Multiple possible Bible verses, given Kendrick's Christian background.

Other claims felt like reaches though, so I'll stick to that.

The final two lines of 6:16 also reference the Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, and their song "You Are Not Alone". Drake, who has always claimed he is Michael Jackson or at the very least his equal/successor, is now tied to him in a way he does not want. Because we know all of the dirt that came out after MJ's death. We all know what R. Kelly was sent to prison for. And we all know what Drake has been accused of multiple times.

Kendrick also alludes to the fact that you have a leak in your circle, Drake.

So Drake drops Family Matters. A scathing 7 minute song that makes fun of the GKMC van. Saying that Kendrick's daughter isn't his. Saying that his wife cheats on him with security. Saying that he beats his wife.

Now, these are enormous accusations levied. But Kendrick has responded before, years ago, that the DV accusations were false. He has also always been open about his faults. Adultery. Sex addiction. Insecurity. God complex. Kendrick, for better or worse, has always laid out nearly every aspect of his younger life on his songs. This also helped by the fact that in both Euphoria and 6:16, Kendrick says that Drake has spent millions on finding dirt on him but came up with nothing. Again, these accusations can still be proven true and if so, Kendrick needs to be held accountable for them.

But if not? Then Drake just adds another to the pile of "He's a liar and a master manipulator."

Drake also posts a Parody on his Insta that gains little to no attention because 30 minutes after dropping Family Matters and supposedly going on his victory lap, Kendrick drops meet the grahams.

Another thing. 6:16's cover was a glove. That meant nothing to us, the audience. meet the grahams makes it make sense by zooming out of the glove and showing off a shirt and drugs that Drake supposedly uses. Drake has not had any receipts with his accusations against Kendrick. Kendrick puts Drake's supposed prescription, his full name, on a bottle of Ozempic. Kendrick, for now, seems to make good on his threat. OvO, Drake's company, is full of leaks. And they're leaking it straight to Kendrick Lamar.

Nearly 24 hours later, Kendrick drops Not Like Us.

Euphoria was a general character dissection and assassination of Drake: Insecure about his identity as a biracial man. Culture Vulture. Blaccent user. Code switcher. Fake abs. Womanizer. Misogynist. Using black features just to feel black enough. A deadbeat dad that knows nothing of raising a child. And even revokes Drake's ability to use the N-Word (I have no stake in that I am Asian so I will keep my brown mouth shut for that).

6:16 in LA was an ominous threat that slowly reveals that Kendrick has insider information on Drake. That he is ready to leak so much more should Drake continue.

meet the grahams is a brutal open letter to Drake, his parents, and even to Adonis, Drake's son. Saying that Kendrick could be a better mentor to Adonis. Saying that Drake abandoned you and that's not your fault. Don't be like your father—whatever anyone says, for better or worse, you are a black man and don't code switch just to make yourself feel better. He says that Drake failed his mother for what he did to women. Saying that Drake's father is the cause of his gambling issues. Drake is a body shamer. Leaving the mother of his children to rot. And of course, the reveal that Drake has a secret daughter, the same way Pusha T revealed Drake has a son. Adonis.

And of course, now. Not Like Us. Where Kendrick goes all in on one topic that he has alluded to in every diss track before. Drake is a groomer. A pedophile.

I am sick. I should not be tuning into this beef. But my fever can go ahead and end me, I need to know how this ends.

[wandaslittlebird]

It Was Never Perfect

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After your perfect week alone with Wanda, the rest of your family comes home. You start to wonder if it was the right choice to even come home in the first place.

CW: R is hella jealous of everyone, stepcest, shitty father, possessive sex, body writing, oral sex, overstimulation, risky sex, Freud’s rolling in his grave, R is a little freak

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This one kinda sucks and it’s very angst heavy. It’s kinda a huge fucking downer but in a slightly ✨sexy✨ way. I promise chapter 5 will be well worth it though. Sorry this took so long to come out!

Part 4 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

For what it’s worth, you did get to wake up in Wanda’s arms on Christmas morning. You were gently shaken awake at 6:30 in the morning with light kisses to your face. “Merry Christmas, little love,” she whispered. 

You flopped over onto her chest, a sleepy smile plastered across your face. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The two of you spent the whole morning in bed together, tangled in each other's limbs. You didn’t even get up to brush your teeth before your lips were pressed to hers. Neither of you minded, though. You were far too concerned with having your hands and lips all over each other to let something as silly as morning breath stop you. 

Around 9 o’clock though, when your lips had just made their way to her navel, you heard the front door open. Wanda groaned, reluctantly pushing you away and rolling out of bed. She put on a pair of Christmas pajamas and threw you a pair onto the bed. You reluctantly pried yourself off her mattress, putting on the pajamas.   

You heard the shouts as soon as she left the bedroom. “Mommy!”s suddenly filled the foyer and the staircase as you heard little footsteps scramble their way up the stairs. The sound made your stomach turn with envy. That was your mama. 

You walked out of the bedroom to find everyone in the foyer. Billy and Tommy, your stepbrothers and Wanda’s other children, were wrapped tightly around her waist. Wanda’s real children, you reminded yourself. 

She had her arms wrapped around them as she kissed both of their heads. “I missed you boys so much! It’s been so lonely around here without you guys.” She knelt down on the ground, kissing all over their faces in the manner she’d kissed yours only hours ago. 

Your stomach went sour. Lonely? She’d spent the week feeling lonely? No. She was lying. She was just saying that to make them feel better. She hadn’t been lonely. She had you. You were all she needed, right?

She only twisted the knife further when she stood up straight to greet your father. “I’ve missed you, my love,” she said softly before taking his face in her hands and kissing him. 

You thought you were going to be sick. You turned around and ran into the bathroom, bracing yourself against the sink. This couldn’t be happening. You were her love. You were her baby. You were her favorite, her whole world, the only person she’d ever need. She spent the week telling you so. So why were suddenly feeling like the least important person in this entire house?

You turned on the sink and splashed your face with cool water. You watched yourself in the mirror as the cool water ran down your chin. Suddenly, you were 18 all over again…

—--------

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, getting ready for the day, beaming with pride and excitement. You’d been working for two whole years and it finally paid off. You’d spent months studying to get your GED, then even longer studying to get a near perfect score on your ACT, all to get to this moment: getting accepted to college. A full ride to the local university, nonetheless. Wanda was going to be ecstatic.

You’d found out last night, but you wanted to wait until morning to tell Wanda, when the boys had left for school, your dad had left for work, and it was just the two of you alone. You crept into her office, the piece of paper held firmly in your hands. 

By the time you knocked on the door though, Wanda looked tired and pissed. “Mama?” you called into the room, hoping this would cheer her up. 

You hadn’t noticed Wanda was on the phone. She put her finger to her lips to indicate you needed to be quiet. You dropped your hands to the side, chewing on your lip impatiently. 

 “Yeah, okay,” she sighed to the person over the phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

She hung up the phone and threw it into her bag. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly cut off. “I’ve gotta go to the school. Tommy apparently thought it would be funny to shove his brother in a locker,” she said with an exasperated sigh. She picked her bag up from under the desk, practically shoving past you to get out the door. 

“But, mama…” you said, trying to run down the stairs after her. 

“Can you make sure my computer doesn’t shut off before I get back, please? I’ve gotta go,” she interrupted again, walking out the front door and all but slamming it in your face. 

You froze for a minute, heart shattering into a million pieces. Time seemed to stand still as the letter fell from your hand and onto the ground of the foyer. You shrunk into yourself, feeling like the tiniest, most insignificant thing on the entire planet. You tucked your knees to your chest, sitting on the bottom step. Tears poured from your eyes, clogging your sinus until you could hardly breathe. Sobs ripped through your chest, echoing through the foyer so loud it shook the glass chandelier. 

It was always going to be like this. You shouldn’t have expected anything less, really. Wanda was never yours to begin with. You were stupid for thinking she cared. You were even stupider to think she cared about you over her own kids. Her real kids. Whatever you thought you had with her, whatever you thought she felt, was a fairytale. 

You had a mother, a real one, and she didn’t care about you. You were dealt a shitty hand, and you still thought you could somehow win the game. This “having a mother” thing was simply an impossibility for you. You could toil all you wanted. It was futile. You had already lost.

This was reality. You were alone. 

You were already tucked up in the furthest corner of your room when Wanda walked through the front door. “You, young man, are gonna spend the rest of the afternoon in your room finishing up all this homework you missed,” She sternly informed Tommy, sending him angrily up the stairs. He slammed his bedroom door, only furthering Wanda’s fury. 

She set down her bag and shoes at the door, huffing. She noticed a piece of paper carelessly discarded on the hardwood. She sighed in annoyance. Did anyone know how to pick up after themselves around here?

She picked up the piece of paper, charging up the stairs. She knocked on your bedroom door.. “Honey? You left this in the foyer. I really need you to start picking up after yourself, okay? You can’t just be leaving things all over the house.”

When you didn’t answer, she huffed again. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work.” She folded up the paper and slid it under the crack of your door without reading it. She went back to her office without another word. 

You made your way to the door, taking the letter in your hands and ripping it in half. You weren’t going to that stupid fucking university. You weren’t going to stay in this stupid fucking town. You were done playing house with a family that wasn’t yours. You were done savoring the praise of the woman who wasn’t even your real mom. 

You were going to go somewhere new. Somewhere better. You were gonna find people who cared about you. 

You didn’t need her. You didn’t need anyone. If no one else was going to be happy for you, you were going to be happy for you. And that was going to be enough. That was going to have to be. There was nothing else. 

—--------

You shivered, drying your face before heading downstairs. 

“Hey, honey! Look boys! It’s your sister!” Wanda cheered, trying to get the boys excited to see you. They shyly hid behind her legs, scared in the way children get when an unfamiliar presence intrudes on their familiarity. You hadn’t seen them in over two years. You were practically a stranger. 

“Are you coming to your grandmother’s with us?” your father asked. 

You looked at Wanda. She could immediately read more than just confusion. There was something very wrong. “She’s gonna stay here. With me,” she answered for you. 

Your father made no comment, turning back to the boys. “Alright fellas, go bring your bags up to your rooms. We gotta get to grandma’s for presents.”

“Presents” seemed to be the magic word, as the boys immediately ran up the stairs, carrying their bags with them and getting ready to leave again. You, Wanda, and your dad were all left in the foyer.

There was a terribly awkward silence, then Wanda spoke up. “Well,” she started, “speaking of presents, we were just finishing the last of the wrapping up in the bedroom. We should get back to it. So it’s done by the time you all get back. Right?” She looked at you, raising her eyebrows expectantly. 

You nodded, desperate to get out of this situation. “Right.”

Wanda wasted no time grabbing your hand and whisking you away. When she reached the top of the steps, she called back down to your father. “We’re wrapping things for you, so don’t come up here!”

She pulled you into the bedroom, shutting the door gently behind you. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What’s wrong, little love?”

Your brow furrowed in something between sadness and anger. “You’re my mama. Mine.” 

She cocked her head to the side, trying not to look amused as you were very clearly upset. “Aww, sweetheart,” she whispered with a slight chuckle. “Of course I’m your mama, sweet girl.”

You stood in front of her silently, the same angry and sad look on your face. 

“Oh come on, don’t give me that face,” she said quietly, cupping your cheek in her hand. “Is it hard for you to share mama after you’ve had her to yourself all week?”

You nodded, face softening ever so slightly. “You kissed dad! And… and you told the boys you had a bad week with me!”

“Honey,” she said, a bit firmer this time. “That isn’t what I said. I told the boys I missed them. And we both know I take no pleasure in kissing your father. Can you tell me what’s really got you so worked up? Talk to mama.”

You rubbed your arm, hesitant to spill your concerns. “Now that your real family is back you're gonna forget all about me like mom did,” you finally said, speaking just above a whisper. 

“Oh sweetheart. No no no. Mama’s not gonna forget about you,” she gently pulled you into her arms, tucking your head just under her chin. “I could never forget about you. You’re mama’s special girl, remember?”

“Promise?” You asked weakly.

“I promise,” she assured. 

You stood for a moment, trying to find solace in her arms. When you couldn’t find any, you desperately demanded “say it again.” 

But before she could respond you heard your dad shout up from the basement. “Come on boys! We’re gonna be late to grandma’s!” 

Wanda pulled away. “I should help them get ready,” she explained, turning to leave the room. You winced as she closed the door, leaving you alone in her room. 

You were beyond angry. You were seething, practically vibrating with jealousy. 

You sulked to the bed, looking to the nightstand and picking up the black sharpie Wanda was using to write on the gifts last night. You uncapped the marker, staring at the black felt tip. Permanent may not actually mean permanent, but it wouldn’t come off for at least a few days. 

You were gonna make sure everyone knew who she belonged to. 

It was only a few minutes before you heard Wanda shouting out the front door, wishing the boys and your father safe travels. You waited impatiently, counting each step you heard on her way back to the bedroom. 

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, you were on her, tearing at her closer, trying to get her closer. She took your hands in hers, stilling them. “Woah woah woah. Slow down. We have plenty of time.” 

But when she looked in your eyes, she didn’t see the same seductive, blissful face she’d seen this morning where you’d left off before your dad got home. No. You were angry. Possessive. Jealous.

“So that’s how this is gonna be,” she conceded with a smirk. She didn’t say anything more, but she looked almost excited. You didn’t respond, holding that same dangerous glare. She let go of your hands, giving you silent permission to continue. 

You pushed her body backwards until it hit the wall. You lips met hers in a harsh, bruising kiss that would leave both your lips swollen. You only pulled away for a moment to rip her shirt off over her head. She moaned as your hands pawed at her breast, squeezing them hard enough to hurt. You teased her nipples between your pointer finger and thumb, pinching and pulling them until she yelped. 

When you were sure her lips were puffy and raw, you made your way down her body, kneeling in front of her until you were face to face with her center. You looked up at her hungrily as you slowly pulled at the waistband of her pajama pants. “Say it again, mama. Tell me I’m special and you love me the most.”

She gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up and stroking your cheekbone with her thumb. Even in your lustful, jealous haze there was a moment of peace when she said “You’re my most special girl, little love. Mama loves you more than anything in the world.”

You made short work of pulling her underwear and pants the rest of the way down. You gently kissed her mound before hungirly diving into her core, sucking her clit into your mouth. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open in a blissful expression. She reached down and grabbed your hair, keeping you pressed tight against her. “Oh… fuck… please… oh my love…”

She threw her leg over your shoulder, pulling you even closer as your tongue circled her entrance. You reached up to stead her waist with your hands, holding her in place. “You’re making mama feel so good baby. Fuck I love you so much,” she panted, her legs starting to shake. She pulled one of your hands from her waist, holding it tight for support. 

“You’re gonna make mama cum, baby,” she breathed, arching away from the wall. You could feel her heel digging into your back as her wetness coated your tongue. You were addicted to her taste, and determined to be the only one who ever got the privilege of tasting her again. Your nails dug into the skin of her thigh as her hand tightened in your hair. She came with a silent scream, nearly collapsing to the ground against the wall. 

She smiled at you, satisfied. But you had that same hungry look in your eye. A look that told her you were far from done. 

“Say it again,” you demanded weakly. As angry as you were, you still just looked so little and desperate. You just wanted to be loved. You just wanted your mama. 

“Baby,” she cooed. She was still panting and disheveled. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Say. It. Again.” You commanded, biting down on your own lip. 

“You are my most precious angel. My most special girl,” she repeated. 

Wordlessly, you laid on your stomach in front of her, your face hovering over her sex. You blew cool air against the sensitive skin. You brought two fingers to her entrance, which, coated with the remains of her orgasm, gave no resistance.

“Ah,” she hummed, “careful baby. Mama’s very sensitive. Oh fuck…”

She bucked into your hand as your fingers curled to meet that special spot inside of her. You lowered your head, pulling her clit back into your mouth and flicking it lightly with the tip of your tongue. She threw her head back, arching herself further into your mouth. She groaned as you added a third finger, pumping yourself in and out of her in rhythm with your tongue. 

She grabbed your hair, chanting your name and grinding herself against you. “No one else can do this to me baby. It’s only you. Only you can make mama fall apart like this.” Her words encouraged you and you doubled down, circling her sensitive bud with your tongue.

“Honey… fuck you’re gonna make mama cum again,” she breathed, biting down hard on her lip as she came around your fingers. 

This time, you didn’t pull away, continuing your ministrations even after her orgasm subsided.

“Please baby… I can’t…” she panted. She squirmed against your tongue, trying to escape the ceaseless pleasure. You pulled your fingers away, instead wrapping both your arms around her thighs. You held her in place, determined to draw one final orgasm from her. 

You alternated between her entrance and her clit, pressing your tongue hard against her. Her legs trembled around your head, unable to handle the sensation. You hummed around her clit, spelling your name with your tongue over and over again. 

She came faster this time, forcibly pushing you away as she sprayed a stream of cum onto the carpet. You watched in fascination. You had never seen anyone cum that hard. She went limp against the wall, exhausted. 

You helped her up onto the bed, letting her rest against the headboard. You ran to the bathroom quickly to get her a glass of water and a towel, just like she always did for you. 

“Thank you,” she smiled, gratefully accepting them both. She had taught you so well. 

You knelt down between her legs, laying your head down on her stomach. “I love you, mama,” you said softly, nuzzling into her navel. 

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she replied, running her fingers gently through your hair. “Are you feeling better now? Do you think you can play nice with your dad and brothers?”

You didn’t respond. You felt better, but swirling thoughts still lingered on your mind. You thought about your father taking your place in her bed. Would she let him touch her like you had? Would he draw the same heavenly sounds from her? Would she tell him she loved the way he touched her too? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You could deal with kisses, the hugs, the words of affection, but you couldn’t deal with that.

You sat up and grabbed the sharpie from the nightstand, uncapping with your teeth. She grabbed your wrist. “Honey. We can’t. You know that.”

“He’s not allowed to see you here!” You screamed in despair, pointing at her lower abdomen. 

She looked into your desperate eyes. Sex was a scarcity between her and your father anyway. He almost certainly wouldn’t see it. She would just have to be careful getting in and out of the shower. The risk was high, but, if it could bring you even a little relief, the reward was higher. She sighed. “Alright, sweetheart. Keep it below the waist and above the mid thigh.”

You started with your name, big and bold just below her abdomen. You wrote it smaller in cursive on her inner thighs and then initialled and put a heart right next to each of her nipples before sitting back to admire your creation. 

You added a few more hearts along her pelvis before capping the marker and putting it back on the nightstand. 

Your dialated eyes and possessive gaze didn’t escape Wanda’s notice. She reached up and rubbed your chin. “I’m all yours baby. Do you like that? Knowing no one else gets to touch mama like you do? Nobody else makes mama feel so good.”

You nodded eagerly. “Not even dad because you love me more than him, right.”

She smiled gently and pulled you down to rest against her bare chest. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart. Not even your father makes me feel like you do.” She tapped the tip of your nose affectionately. “Now let’s get this shirt off so mama can hold you nice and close.” 

You put your arms up so she could pull the dense sweater from your body. She discarded it to the side along with the clothes you’d torn off her earlier. You laid flat against her warm skin. Her nails gently scratched up and down your back. “There we go. That’s my sweet girl. Do you feel better now?”

You nodded against her chest, wrapping your arms around her in the tight space between her body and the mattress. She played with your hair, silently at first, but then she started to sing softly. You recognize the tune, but the words were in Wanda’s native language. 

You laid like that for a long time, listening to the soft beat of her heart, until the front door opened again and you heard two sets of little feet running through the foyer. Reluctantly, you peeled yourself away and put back on your sweater. 

Once you were both dressed, you reached to unlock the door, but Wanda grabbed your hand. 

“Wait. One more thing,” she said, turning you around to face her. She knelt down in front of you and lifted your shirt. “Hold this.”

You cocked your brow in confusion, but held your sweater up. It was only when she lifted her hand to touch your stomach that you noticed the sharpie between her fingers. You felt the cool tip glide across your stomach, just above your navel. In her neat cursive penmanship, she had written “Mama’s Special Girl”. She capped the marker and grabbed your hip on either side, pulling you close and kissing your stomach. The kiss left a distinct red lipstick print just under her words. You beamed as you looked down at what she had left. 

She climbed to her feet, dropping your sweater to cover the message. “Alright. Let’s go have Christmas.”

—--------

Despite your reservations, Christmas went better than expected. It helped that your father, in his usual shitty mood, left to go take a nap, claiming he was exhausted and it just couldn’t wait. No one protested. 

The boys opened their presents with all the excitement expected of 8 year olds. It did actually make you feel better that they warmed up to you quickly. Maybe you couldn’t be the only person in Wanda’s life, but it was nice to least be part of her family. You kept your hand on your stomach, soothing yourself with the thought of the special words that sat just underneath the fabric.

Wanda, as usual, went way overboard with the gifts, despite you not asking for anything. Some of them were marked “From: Dad” or “From: Santa”, but you knew they were all from her. She had gotten you some dorm room decorations, a lego set, and every item off of your amazon wishlist, a list you didn’t even know she still had access to. She must’ve kept the link from years ago when you still lived at home. 

Once all the presents were gone, the boys ran happily around the house, playing with their newly acquired toys. Wanda smiled from her spot next to you on the couch, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Did you get everything?”

You smiled and nodded. “And more. What about you?”

She rubbed your chin affectionately. “Well, you’re here. So you tell me.”

You chuckled and looked nervously down at your lap. “There’s actually something else.”

“Oh?” she asked cheekily. 

You got up from the couch and grabbed an envelope from the mantle. You fidgeted nervously with the corner as you brought it to Wanda on the couch. “To: Mama” was scrawled in your messy handwriting on the back.

She carefully opened the envelope revealing an acceptance letter. A full ride scholarship to your local university for the spring semester. You were coming home. For good.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes brimmed with tears. “Is this… are you…”

You nodded and she grabbed you, pulling you down on the couch with her in a tight hug. “I love you so much. After my boys, I never thought I could ever be so lucky to get another special blessing in my life. But I found you,” she cradled your head in close. “And I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

[tojipie]

could u do prison toji relationship headcannons 🙏🙏

prison bf series here !

content: mentions of incarceration + violence

────────────────────────

shows up to your legally monitored video calls boasting about each and every new tattoo he gets. “a needle and a ballpoint pen can actually do a ton” he tells you, lifting his faded wife-beater up to show you his state identification number scrawled on one of his ribs.

he has 6 tally marks on the back of his neck, just under his hairline, the most recent one showed up after a brawl with another inmate in the visitor’s area. you don’t want to know what the marks are for, though the fact that you haven’t seen the inmate since may or may not give you an idea.

hates the news station in the common room, tells you it’s all bullshit and prefers to get his info from you. you spend hours every visit catching him up to speed on politics, celebrity gossip, new movies. gives him something to mull over in his cell at night.

develops a habit of picking at his knuckles unknowingly, the busted skin never seems to heal. he never tells you how or why his knuckles split in the first place, but it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that he’s been fighting.

his standards for food go down the drainnnnnn. prison toji will eat just about anything. he likes to plays chef during visits sometimes, taking sips from a styrofoam cup full of coffee creamer and ice chips. “a mcflurry,” or so he calls it. you don’t have the heart to tell him he’s nasty.

addicted to your scent when he sees you. will bury his face into the curve of your neck and just stand there, motionless, letting your shoulder support his weight while his hands stay firmly placed on the small of your back.

makes everyone in the cell block his bitch to absolutely no one’s surprise. need new ink? toji’s got a guy for that. doesn’t feel like doing his laundry? toji’s got a guy for that. short on commissary money? time to make his bunkmates fork over a little dough.

he’s possessive during visits, violent towards other men when he’s with you. he’ll push, shove, and threaten any inmate to get the message across that they will stay away from you. he’s not asking. he spent 2 months in solitary over beating his cell-mate senseless for touching a picture of you taped to the wall of his bunk. toji is not one to mess around.

has been on a little arts and crafts streak for quite some time now, you think it’s all the free time he has. he’s whittled you little animals out of wood, made bracelets using loose threads from his bed sheets. even took up watercolor painting in the rec room once. deep down you know it’s because the option to buy you gifts just isn’t there anymore. you always tell him how much you love them, you can tell how good it makes him feel when you do.

[malereadermaniac]

Utter Devotion ~ Xiao x Male Reader drabble/imagine

Fluff and smut with Xiao :) Word count: 556 Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

The fact that Xiao makes sure you know that no matter when and where, if you call his name, he'll be there?? Like that's so fucking hot

Bro is devoted to you, that's for sure - the twink just loves his boyfriend, he'd quite literally die if anything happened to you

He's even teleported to you on accident before! He usually just hears the "Xia-" part and sets off - which is really silly of him, cause you're good friend with Xiangling....

Xiao was reluctant to even start dating you at first, worried that his karmic debt would affect you. But the adeptus couldn't fight off his growing feelings for you - For real, the man was absolutely lovestruck

He couldn't pass an hour without thinking about you, about your voice which he found cute or sexy depending on the situation (iykwim), about your eyes, about your body, about spending time with you

Xiao would catch himself blushing like an idiot around you so much that he himself thought it was too much - the Yaksha would even STUTTER when talking to you!

It took Xiao courting you subconsciously (giving you gifts, going out together, and spending almost everyday with you) for YOU to ask HIM out! And even then you had to CONVINCE HIM TO DATE YOU!!

Greatest decision you both ever made though - you two are like two peas in a pod now!

Dates with Xiao are incredible

This man will carry you down the Wangshu Inn and sit you down at a table filled with fresh, fancy food and act all nonchalant like it's nothing! As if it isn't the most romantic thing ever!

And the sex is crazy good too.

Xiao's a twink but he got that sleeper build for sure!

He looks like a twig but FUCK when he flexes them ARMS - it makes you crack within seconds

The man likes to pull that trick in bed a lot, fucking the shit out of you and then pushing you that extra mile by flexing an arm for you (his tattoos also look real good like that)

Oh and you bet he does that thing where he squishes your face between his bicep (Fucking hot)

And the way that his abs are toned, his 6-pack ever-so subtle - its just sooooooo good

Again, the adeptus is wholly devoted to you, so the only thing he thinks about during sex is how to make you feel the best he can - which usually means you cum before him

Xiao will suck you off and eat you out for agesss, his strong arms under your thighs as he goes crazy, leaving purple and green hickeys and red lovebites on the soft area

And though he likes to go wild and fast when drilling into you, Xiao will make sure that his angle and pace is perfect, he makes sure that your prostate is generously milked each time!

He's big too! You wouldn't expect it from such a thin and kinda short guy, but that dick is long and veiny - and it puts its work in damn!

He's perfect in every way, Xiao is just the man for you - and he knows for sure that your the one for him, for life

You just gotta love twinks n their horse CO-

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 6

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

ANGST, Elain bashing, Visions of the future, also probably no update tomorrow

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“It will be fine,” Cassian told him. 

Again. Cassian had already told him that multiple times. 

He had washed his mate’s blood from his hands…from underneath his fingernails. Eira’s blood. All over his hands. Literally and figuratively.

“Azriel,” Cassian said quietly, once again, trying to get him to give him something. “She’ll be fine. Madja is the best at what she does. She managed to save my wings. That poisoned knife was probably nothing more than a nuisance for Madja.”

A nuisance? The shadows hissed sharply. Our mate took a poisoned knife between her ribs nearly to her heart! And he says it’s just a nuisance?!

“I should have taken that knife,” Azriel whispered. 

He should have taken that knife. Him. 

Not her. Not Eira. Not…

“Azriel,” Cassian said quietly. 

“I should be the one,“ he insisted. “It’s my fault.” If he had just told her the day before. If he had just been there…if they had pushed that meeting at the Court of Nightmares…maybe if…

“How is this possibly your fault?” Cassian asked with a sigh. “Rhys asked you to wait, did he not? Wouldn’t that make it his fault?”

It wasn’t Rhys’ fault. It was on Azriel. Azriel’s mate was lying there, fighting for her life and he could do absolutely nothing to make this easier for her. At least Rhys could try and take her pain away…but Azriel? 

“Quite frankly, the fault is with Keir,” Cassian said quietly. “He was the one who wanted to kill Nyx. Eira was just collateral damage.”

What?

“She’s not just collateral damage,” Azriel growled, his hand twitching to Truthteller's hilt without even thinking about it. 

Eira wasn’t just a thing, wasn’t just a number, wasn’t just a…

Cassian seemed to realise how badly worded that was, but Azriel was already so fucking angry. 

“Az,” Cassian said quietly, holding up his hands. “That’s not how I meant that. I only meant that she was that for Keir.”

“She’s my mate!” Azriel spat out. His mate. 

Even when he didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve to even look at her after what had happened. 

“I know,” Cassian said quietly. “I know, Az.”

He reached out hesitantly, clasping Azriel’s shoulder…jostling him with his wing…Trying and failing to ground him in the here and now, when all Azriel could think about was the feeling of Eira’s limp hand against his lips, the scent of her blood, the grey pallor of her skin…

“Amren is back,” Cassian said nearly thoughtfully, but Azriel ignored that, going back to staring at his hands, at the gnarled scars that covered them…the absolutely ruined scar tissue that covered them and made them look like they belonged to a monster. 

How…How in the world had the Mother thought it to be prudent to mate him to Eira? To Eira with her milk-pale, freckled, perfect skin…the epitome of a lady? 

How…

Rhys’ mental voice snapped through his mind at that:  *Dining Room. Now.*

He didn’t sound…Rhys sounded angry. 

Something had happened. 

It took less than a minute for them all to find their place in the dining room, Nyx upstairs with the wraiths, probably the only non-members of the Inner Circles that Feyre and Rhys would be willing to let near Nyx for the foreseeable future. 

“Do you want to tell us what exactly your problem is?” Amren asked, crossing her arms and Rhys stared at her, violet eyes sharp. 

“My problem?” he repeated, his voice velvet soft, betraying the anger that lay beneath it. “Amren, your reaction to Eira laying in her bed a few hours after being stabbed is that she’s finally turning out to be interesting!”

What? 

The shadows swirled tighter around him, a hissing running through them. They had never trusted Amren in the first place and right now that…that was just strengthening their stand. 

“She is finally turning out to be interesting. I have never heard of anybody controlling lightning,” Amren defended herself with a roll of her eyes. 

What? 

“Eira controlled lightning?” Cassian repeated, the question he also had. “Eira?” 

She did, Master, the shadows agreed. She was sublime. 

Lightning. She had controlled it? Like Nesta controlled the Silver Flames of Death? 

“Eira killed these males?” Feyre asked, sounding shocked. 

“She completely magically exhausted herself in the process,” Rhys agreed with a sigh. 

“I didn’t think she would ever…be able to do anything,” Mor admitted quietly and his hands turned into fists. Anything? Eira did a lot of things that neither Mor nor any other member of their family could do.  

“We’ll need to train her,” Amren said. “She has…untapped potential.”

“No,” Nesta snapped, quicker than he even could open his mouth. “You are not doing this to my sister. Eira does not want to be a soldier.”

No. Eira…Eira liked things soft and gentle and not…she didn’t want to fight. And nobody would make her do that as long as Azriel was alive. 

“We’ll talk to her, she’ll be…reasonable,” Amren said with a shrug.

“No, you won’t. I won’t have it,” Nesta hissed. 

“Nesta…” Feyre said quietly, thoughtfully, but Nesta cut her off. 

“The first time you killed a deer and she prepared it for dinner, she spent three hours crying hysterically in our back garden afterwards,” Nesta snapped. “I am not letting you take this from her.”

He hadn’t known that. There were so many things that he didn’t know about Eira…so many questions he had never gotten to ask her, so many questions that just…

“She already killed three males,” Feyre said quietly. 

She had. Though Azriel thought that killing in pure self-defense was something different than going into a fight and knowing that you would kill. Two very different mindsets. 

“Which just proves my point, she’s dangerous,” Amren agreed. 

And he was done. 

“So am I,” Azriel snapped. “You are not turning Eira into anything she doesn’t want.”

“She would agree,” Amren said with a roll of her eyes. 

Of course, Eira would agree to that particular request. 

“Of course, she would agree. She always just tried to make everybody’s life easier!” Nesta snapped, slapping her hands flat onto the table, as Cassian reached out to soothe his mate and she ignored the hand he carefully placed on her arm. 

“This is not up for discussion, Amren,” Rhys finally said evenly. “Eira is terrified of you. You are not going to request anything from her, because it wouldn’t be a request.” He sighed. “And that’s not what I wanted to talk about either.”

“You don’t want to talk about Feyre’s sister suddenly being able to summon lightning and having killed three elite soldiers in the process?” Mor asked with a snort. 

“Would you stop it?” Nesta asked, her voice sharp. “She’s not just Feyre’s sister or Azriel’s mate. Eira is her own fucking person!”

It was biting and razor sharp and Azriel swallowed. 

She was right.  Nesta was right. Of course, she was. 

“Nesta is right,” Rhys agreed, something that made everybody at the table sit up straight because these words were exceedingly rare. If not nearly unheard. Rhys and Nesta agree…it must be dire. “I would like to talk about the fact that Eira has spent the last 3 years so fucking miserable that that being pulled into her mind made me throw up…because it’s a neverending repeat of her feeling worthless and useless and like she’s not allowed to take up any room.”

What? 

What?

Eira had felt like this? His mate had felt like this?!

When had she felt like this? How? 

He watched Feyre’s blue eyes fill with tears…watched as she stared at her mate. 

“She hasn’t said anything. Why wouldn’t she say anything?” Feyre asked, her voice shaking. “Rhys?” 

“Because we gave her absolutely no reason why she should trust us, Feyre Darling. None of us,” Rhys answered with a sigh. “Her shields are nonexistent. I wasn’t careful and she dragged me into her memories. By the time I finally got to pull myself out, it already had been…”

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Mor said, crossing her arms. 

“So you didn’t say that as far as cauldron blessed went she’s useless? And you didn’t say that while at dinner, where we all heard it, or and we all laughed?” Rhys cut her off sharply. “Do not absolve yourself of the blame, Morrigan. This is on all of us.”

What? Had he been there? He couldn’t remember. he couldn’t….this had happened and he couldn’t…

It happened, Master, the shadows hissed. More happened too, Master. None of you have done anything to make her feel welcome or appreciated in…months, if not years. She has cried often. 

“Show me,” Feyre demanded at that moment. 

“She already lost enough of her privacy.” Nesta’s disagreed, her voice frosty. Azriel watched that particular match of minds carefully. Did he...

Yes. He wanted to know. He needed to know. What had he done? How badly had he fucked up? 

“Show me,” Feyre repeated.  “If she’s angry, It’s my fault. I’ll take her blame,” she told Rhys fiercely. “But show me, show us…when…”

Rhys sighed, but when he looked at Feyre, and Azriel watched the moment where he must have placed Eia’s memory in Feyre's mind as she clasped her hand in front of her mouth, her eyes welling over with tears. 

He looked over to Mor, who just nodded…then Amren, then Nesta…then Cassian…Azriel watched his brother steel himself, and then the way his expression crumbled. 

He felt Rhys’ mental touch against his shields…*Az…Are you sure you want this?* Rhys asked and he just… 

*Yes.*

The memory was dropped into his mind. 

Blue velvet box. Winter solstice. 

Pearl Earrings. Beautiful. So beautiful. 

But for her…for her useless. Her ears weren’t pierced. 

He hadn’t even noticed that. It hurt worse than even his smiles at her sister. 

He had brought her a gift…but it wasn’t a gift that she could use, no gift that…no gift that was special to her…no thought behind it…jsut an item on a list to be checked off. 

Something for Eira. Beautiful and Impersonal and…

No attention paid to her. 

She didn’t deserve his attention. Never. 

But she wanted it. Just once…

Please, Please, Please, Please…

Azriel’s hands turned into fists. 

He remembered these earrings. Of course, he did. 

Each consisted out of one round diamond with a perfect oval pearl dropping from it. 

He had bought them for Eira. Had picked them out in fact. Had thought that they were…modest but elegant…simple but beautiful…that they would suit her so well. 

And he had only bought them after he had asked Elain what Eira would like for Solstice. 

And Elain had told him…had told him that Eira wanted earrings. That she had been thinking about having her ears pierced. And of course, Azriel hadn’t thought closer about it then…Neither had his shadows. They had believed Elain. 

Believed Elain’s pretty words. 

“You lied to me,” he spat out, his words so sudden, so menacing that it made everybody stop in their tracks…the shadows reached out, lengthening and he tightened his hold on them as he fixed Elain…beautiful Elain with his hard green eyes. 

Elain who always acted so soft…so sweet…

But she had done this on purpose. 

“What?” she squeaked out. 

“You lied to me, Elain,” he repeated, his voice hoarse with anger.  “I bought Eira these earrings because you said she wanted them. I knew that she couldn’t wear them. I knew her ears weren’t pierced, but you told me she wanted to do that, so I bought them for her. And instead, she thinks that I never cared enough to notice that about her?”

“Cauldron,” Rhys breathed. 

“Why?” Azriel bit out. Elain stared at him, brown eyes hard, lips pursed. 

“Does it matter? It’s Eira.” She spat out the words. 

And he had enough. 

So had the shadows. 

You stupid girl, they hissed, for once so loud that everybody could hear them, everybody flinching away from them. Of course, they did. 

“They can talk?“ Feyre asked, her voice small and shaky.

“On very rare occasions,” Cassian answered quietly. “Circumstances must be…exceedingly dire.”

And they were. 

This was about Eira. 

“What exactly is your problem?” Azriel growled. What was this about? Where was this coming from? He had never noticed any kind of…tension between them. Not from Eira at least. 

So why was…

“It’s Eira,” Elain said like that explained everything. 

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Nesta asked her voice, icy. “Do you think Eira doesn’t deserve Azriel?”  Nesta asked, her silver eyes fixing on her sister…the sister she had doted on…protected so thoroughly…and now…now they were on opposite ends. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course, she doesn’t,” Elain said with a roll of her eyes. 

It was so quiet in the room that one could have heard a pin dropping. 

“How can you say that?” Nesta challenged her sister, her voice violently even. “This is Eira. Your twin sister. What has she ever done to you?!”

And then the anger in Elain’s eyes seemed to boil over. 

“She doesn’t deserve him!” Elain snapped “What has she that I don’t? I am the pretty one!” It poured out of Elain and Azriel could just watch in horror. “I am the one that’s supposed to marry for Love and Beauty! She’s…she’s useless!”

“Useless?” Nesta interrupted her sharply. “Feyre and Eira kept us alive, Elain! Feyre hunted, yes. And Eira…Eira did the rest, Elain!  She cooked and she cleaned and she did the laundry and her fucking potato patch was what made sure that we didn’t starve on more than one occasion!” she growled. “You liked to pretend that it wasn’t that bad but it was!“

“I can’t listen to this,” Rhys said quiet. “Your sister did everything so that you could survive. Your sister spent her whole life taking care of you… You were gifted with a sister that loved you so fiercely, that would do anything for you...and you treated her like this? Your sister spent the last few years suffering. Because of things we said, things we done. I am not absolving any of us of that blame…but you…you did this on purpose…” Rhys stared at Elain and Azriel saw the minute blink, the way Elain’s hands tightened on the table…”I just wonder why?”. 

And he knew that Rhys had just gone into her mind… And then there was a thunderous expression on Rhys’ face. Without a word, he poured what he had gotten from Elain into Azriel’s mind…

A vision. 

A vision from a cauldron-blessed Seer. 

And he stared at it, his heart plummeting. 

Elain had seen this and still…still tried to drive Azriel and Eira apart. 

She had seen this vision of the future…of Eira…of Eira with a little girl in a garden, no older than maybe three…a pair of Illyrian wings sprouting proudly from her back…the girl's hair the exact shade of her mother’s hair…her eyes unmistakenly Azriel’s…freckles covering her face…Both of them kneeling in the mud, dresses sprinkled with it, and not a care in the world as they pulled carrots from the ground. 

And then Azriel watched himself land in front of the two of them, a smile on his face and lean down to press a kiss to Eira’s lips. 

She smiled at him…so incredibly happy as he picked up the little girl, settling her on her hip…and then the basket of vegetables…and then he helped her up and he watched as one of his scarred hands settled possessively on the slight swell of her belly. 

It was like somebody doused him in icy water. 

How dare you? the shadows hissed, flinging themselves at Elain, who screamed, as they wrapped themselves around her, nothing gentle about their touch. Do not ever…ever come near her again. Do not even look at her. You are not going to hurt her again. Ever again. And if you do…you will regret it. She cried over you. For hours. And you repay her like this?!

He didn’t know how he wrestled them back under his control…how he got them to not outright slaughter Elain right there…

He didn't know how. Because he wanted. Because he...

*Azriel, it's alright,* Rhys breathed into his mind. *It's alright.* But it wasn't. Because Elain...Elain had tried to stop this future from ever happening. Had tried to stop his children from being born. She had tried to take this from him. This perfect slice of happiness...of his very own paradise. 

His daughter. His mate. 

“I…I do not think that the Night Court is the right environment for you anymore,” Feyre said, her voice shaking and Azriel’s gaze snapped to his High Lady, the tears that tracked down her face. 

“You are sending me away?” Elain asked, sounding utterly aghast. 

“I’ll ask your mate to come fetch you, Lucien… you may remember him as your fiancé,” Feyre said pointedly. 

“I am your sister!” Elain snapped. 

“So is Eira,” Feyre gave back, crossing her arms. “And only one of you has tried to destroy the other.” 

[nightlark100]

The List

I had an idea for a silly fanfic about the teen wolf pack making a list of rules for their pack to follow but i never got beyond the list itself and a tiny bit of story. So i thought i'd post it here.

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

It had started as a joke. After another brilliant Scott plan gone wrong, Stiles had scribbled 'SCOTT IS NOT ALLOWED TO MAKE PLANS' in big letters on a piece of paper which he then stuck beside the front door.

"This is ridiculous," Scott protested, moving to take it down. "My plans aren't that bad"

"Yes they are. And no touching the paper! That is an official document"

"What."

Derek, drawn by the discussion, hovered in the doorway to the living room.

"Stiles… what is that and why is it on my wall?"

"This is the official Hale pack list of rules. We must all abide by it."

Scott scoffed and looked to Derek, expecting the alpha to side with him. Instead, he just narrowed his eyes before nodding.

"Alright"

"What?! But… Derek!"

"Sorry Scott. It's on the official list of rules, we have to follow it. No more plan making for you"

Scott is not allowed to make plans

No one mentioned the list again for a while and when they did, it was in a teasing way whenever Scott tried to suggest something, whether that something was what they should do that weekend or how best to combat a flurry of pixies in the preserve. The reminder of the ‘no plans’ rule was met with a good natured groan and an eye roll from Scott but little else.

One day however, Stiles was brought out of his latest research binge by the lid of his laptop being sharply closed. He looked up, blinking a few time as his eyes adjusted to the room after hours of staring at the bright screen.

“What the hell?”

The rest of the pack was sitting nearby, having been occupied by their own activities, with Isaac hovering uncertainly beside Stiles’ chair with a sheepish look on his face.

“Isaac?” Stiles prompted.

“Sorry Stiles but you’ve been researching for a day straight.”

“And?”

“Well… i mean… it’s on the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The official pack rules. By the door.”

Their conversation had drawn the attention of the others, most looking confused. Stiles set his laptop aside and went to the door. There beneath his scrawl was a new addition. 

2. Stiles' laptop and phone must be taken away after 24 hours of continuous research.

“Who put that there?” he asked. The others stayed silent. Scott looked slightly smug but Stiles knew that wasn’t his writing. He let out an irritated noise and fished his phone from his pocket, intending to retreat to his room. If Isaac wouldn’t let him back on his laptop, he could still access his work that way.

Derek reached over and plucked the phone from his hand.

“Sorry Stiles. It’s on the list. You can have them back tomorrow.”

“Derek! Come on!”

He moved to grab at the phone but was struck with a wave of dizziness that sent him stumbling. Hands reached out to steady him, he wasn’t sure whose.

“Stiles, when did you last eat?” Lydia asked.

“Ermm… breakfast maybe?”

“Today?”

“No… yesterday…”

“Hmm. And drank something? That wasn’t full of sugar?”

“Errr…”

“Kitchen. You’re going to eat, drink some water and then you are going to get some sleep.” She guided him out of the hall with a firm hand, pushing him into a chair at the kitchen table while Isaac retrieved some leftovers from the fridge and filled their largest glass with water.

Both of them stayed in the kitchen with him until he was suitably fed and hydrated, then Lydia took him upstairs and put him to bed, giving him a dark look as she promised that if he got up to get one of his books instead of sleeping there would be consequences.

Stiles reluctantly obeyed.

He wouldn’t admit it but he did feel better the next morning. Until, as he headed downstairs, he noted a new line had been added to the paper by the door. 

3. Stiles must be made to eat something and drink water after 6 hours of continuous research

After the first few additions, it seemed that some kind of dam had been broken and the rest of the pack didn’t hesitate to implement their own rules (although no one would admit to putting the limits on Stiles’ research time)

4.  Newly turned betas are not allowed to partake in team sports until they have proven they can control themselves (e.g. no eye flashing, no claws, no fangs, no doing backflips over other players or any other feats of sudden athletic ability that may draw attention to the pack)

5.         All of Derek's dates must be vetted. THOROUGHLY

“That's it. I'm putting a ban on Derek dating” Stiles said, picking chunks of viscera out of his hair. “This is the third time! At this point it's just negligent of us not to investigate anyone inviting you out.” A thought occured and he spun around to face Derek. “oh my god. You're a Xander!”

“What?”

“A Xander! Right Peter?”

“I would have to agree. He does have Xander like qualities when it comes to dating.”

“Again I say… what?”

“Buffy the vampire slayer. Peter and I have been watching it together.”

“Really Peter?”

“It's good!”

“It has its moments”

“Yeah you're just mad cause they got rid of Ethan. Who is 100% you. Just in it for the chaos.”

“Would that make you the Giles?”

“No! Why?”

“Oh come on, they were definitely a couple.”

“If i’m anyone, i’m willow.”

“Wouldn’t Lydia be Willow?”

“No, Lydia is Cordelia.” he glanced around, fearing the redhead would appear and yell at him. “On the surface, superficial cheerleader type. But goes through a bunch of character development and has a power that sucks.”

“Flawless logic. Why are you Willow?”

“Magic. Bi. Brief fall to the dark side. And then Scott would be Xander,”

“I thought I was Xander?”

“No, you’re just Xander when it comes to dating. Scott’s Xander the rest of the type.”

“And I suppose Allison is Buffy?”

“Noooo… Allison is Faith. "

6. Peter and Stiles are not allowed to watch Mythbusters anymore 

“Really Derek?”

“Yes. Really. Last time you watched that show, you ended up building a trebuchet.”

“I believe it was just Stiles who built the trebuchet.”

“Yes but you helped load it.”

7. No Sex in the common areas! Erica this means you! (poor Isaac)

8. When offered a boon by a faerie BE SPECIFIC

9. Stiles is not to be left unattended in the vet clinic

10. Stiles is not to be left unattended around witches

11. Stiles is not to be left unattended around magic users

12. Stiles is not to be left unattended

13.  Lydia and Peter are not to be left alone in a room together.

14. In the event that Stiles is transformed into a small furry animal, he is to be given into the custody of the Sheriff or Derek. Or Peter. Most importantly, Erica is banned from going near him (OH COME ON! YOU LOOKED INSANELY CUTE IN THE BATMAN COSTUME)

15. The Notebook is a great film and whoever keeps hiding the disc will stop immediately. OR ELSE. I think the or else was implied here Stiles…

16. Stiles is not to be given coffee

17. Stiles is not to be given extra Adderall

18.  Anyone who gives the Sheriff food not on the approved list will face the wrath of Stiles

19. Peter is not allowed to comment on how attractive he finds Melissa McCall

20. Peter is not allowed to comment on how attractive he finds Chris Argent

21. ~Peter is not allowed to comment on how attractive he finds Stiles Stilinski~ (Stiles objects to this rule)

22.  When throwing items at people, do not throw any of the books or Peter will eat you

23. No Stiles, having sex with a male werewolf won't get you pregnant. Even if it's an alpha. (That we know of)

24. No one is allowed to drive the Camaro except Derek

25. No one is allowed to eat in the Camaro

26.  Alison is not allowed to take her crossbow to school

27.  Alison is not allowed to take her knives to school

28.  Seriously Alison, stop taking weapons to school!

29. Stiles is not allowed to touch any of Alison's weapons

30.  If you bleed in the jeep, you are responsible for cleaning it

31. Do not enter the kitchen when Stiles is cooking. (This is for your own safety)

32. If you enter the kitchen while Stiles is cooking, do not attempt to steal food he is preparing. Werewolves cannot regrow fingers

33.  If Stiles declares someone is evil, he is probably right and should be taken seriously.

34.  If someone new starts working at the school, they are probably evil

35.  If Peter offers to kill someone for you, he is not joking and it is not okay (no matter how tempting it is)

36. Do not ask Derek about dating Cora

37.  Do not make dog jokes, especially to Derek, Stiles! (Not my fault he has no sense of humour)

38. ALWAYS CALL STILES FIRST IF YOU FIND A BODY

39. Stop asking where our eyebrows go when shifted

40. Stiles is not allowed a pet dragon

41. Stiles is not allowed a pet griffin

42. ~Stiles, stop trying to adopt baby mythical creatures~

43. Peter stop leaving dead animals on Stiles porch seriously dude, my dad thinks I've got a budding serial killer after me ~well, I wasn't technically wrong…~ minus the budding part

44. Stiles is not allowed to use his PowerPoint when telling people about werewolves (I don't care how many slide transitions you put in)

45.  No Stiles, giving your PowerPoint to Peter or Lydia to present is not a loophole (oh come on! I even put a bibliography at the end! it's not my fault you're technology adverse!)

46.  Derek is not allowed to lurk around abandoned buildings. It really doesn't help with the serial killer vibe you give off

47. If you kill someone, please make sure you chop them up or find another method to ensure they don't come back! We shouldn't kill people at all! I said IF! ~Stiles, please remember I'm an officer of the law~

47B. AMENDMENT TO THE PREVIOUS: If you kill someone, please make sure you chop them up or find another method to ensure they don't come back AND make sure you dispose of the body so that dad doesn't have to do extra paperwork

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

By request, here is a legend to tell who is writing what:

Stiles

Peter

Derek

Scott

~Sheriff~

Erica

Lydia

Isaac

Allison

Boyd

[cjlouwho]

Bucktommy cuddling in bed, please? Doesn't have to lead to anything, just them being soft.

Since their third date, when Buck told Tommy about his fears after getting struck by lightning and how he spent so long texting Bobby every morning to make sure everything was alright, Buck woke up to a text from Tommy.

Without fail.

Five straight months of 6am texts. Even the days he was working, when he was already awake and had been for a while, he'd still get a text to check in.

That's why Buck's heart nearly sunk directly to the floor when he checked his phone one morning at 6:32am, right after they'd gotten back from a call, to see that Tommy hadn't texted him.

He hesitated briefly, but sent Tommy a heart, followed by a everything okay?

Another thing Tommy had always been great at is answering Buck back quickly. The only time he didn't, or couldn't, was when he was working.

And he wasn't working today.

It didn't take long for Bobby to notice him glaring down at his phone.

“What's wrong, Buck?”

“Oh,” Buck put his phone back in his pocket, waving Bobby off. “It's nothing. No big deal.”

“You sure? Looks like it might be. Everything okay?”

Buck let out a sigh, then explained. “Tommy hasn't missed a morning of texting me for five months. Every single morning, six on the dot.”

“I'm guessing there was no text today?”

Buck shook his head. “No. I texted him, but I haven't heard back. Maybe... Maybe he just overslept? Or forgot, or something.”

“Okay,” Bobby replied with a nod, “well, go get changed and head on out. We've got it covered.”

“But, Cap-”

“Shift ends in thirty minutes anyway. And we both know you won't be able to let it go until you make sure he's alright. Need Eddie to tag along?”

“N- No, I.. I'm sure I'm overreacting.”

“Text me and let me know once you know. And Buck?”

“Yeah, Cap?”

“Try not to panic.”

Not willing to make any promises, Buck turned and headed for his locker.

*****

It took him nearly half an hour to get to Tommy's place, and he didn't think twice about using the key Tommy had given him a couple months back to let himself in. Especially since he still hadn't heard a word from him.

“Tommy?” He spoke cautiously as he entered the house, trying to keep calm against all the negative thoughts running through his mind.

No answer.

The house was dark. It didn't look like Tommy had been up at all. If it weren't for his car out front, Buck wouldn't think he was there.

He moved further into the house, heading down the hall toward Tommy's bedroom.

“Tommy?” His voice was shaky this time, unsteady.

The door squeaked as he pushed it open, but he immediately sighed a breath of relief when the body tangled up under the covers moved.

“Evan?” Tommy questioned, eyes squinting toward him in confusion. “Why're you here?”

“I'm checking on you.” Buck toed off his shoes and walked over to the bed, crawling up beside Tommy. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out and resting a hand over his forehead. “You don't feel hot.”

“M'fine,” Tommy answered, wrapping the blankets tighter around his neck. His voice still sounded rough from sleep. “What time is it? You're supposed to be at work.”

“It's a little past seven. I got worried when I didn't get a text from you this morning. Cap let me leave early.”

“Seven?” Tommy looked even more confused by that. He turned and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, shoulders slumping when he confirmed the time. “God, Evan, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know.”

“It's okay,” Buck assured him. “I'm just glad you're not severely injured or dead, like my head decided you were on the way over.”

Tommy smiled softly, holding out his arms for Buck to come lay in.

Happily, Buck pushed the comforter back on his usual side of the bed and laid beside Tommy, resting his head on his chest.

With one of Tommy's hands soothingly rubbing up and down his back, and the other massaging at his scalp, Buck almost allowed himself to be completely at ease.

Almost.

Because he still knew that something was wrong, even if he couldn't quite figure it out yet.

After pressing a kiss to Tommy's pec, Buck asked again, “Are you okay?”

Tommy took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he answered. “My mom died thirty years ago today,” he admitted.

Buck stilled, then brought his arm to wrap tighter around Tommy's waist. “Oh, Tommy, I- I had no idea.” He leaned up slightly to be able to look at him. “You didn't tell me before, did you? Because-”

“No, no. I don't ever really talk about it, so I'm sure I've never mentioned it.”

Carefully, Buck rolled off of Tommy, lying flat on the bed. He pulled Tommy along with him, having him rest inside his arms instead. “I decided you're the one needing held today,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head.

Tommy laid on him with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of Buck's heart thumping in his chest. “I don't usually miss her this much,” he said. “I mean, I always miss her, but anniversaries don't usually make it worse.”

“Grief has a way of sneaking up on you when you don't expect it.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “It's kind of a pain in the ass.”

Buck huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it is.”

“I just... I think about talking to her a lot. Telling her about my life, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“And there's always been updates here and there. She would have hated me being in the army. Would've been worried sick. She would still worry about me as a firefighter, but she would have been proud. But I think,” he paused, snuggling closer to Buck, “I think this is the first time I could've told her all about my personal life, not just the work stuff.”

Buck's hand stilled from where his fingertips had lightly been brushing over Tommy's arm. “Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. All these years I've just gone over what work accomplishments I could have talked to her about. I didn't even think about that this time.”

Carefully, Buck scooted further down into the bed. He maneuvered them around until they were both on their sides facing one another. He tangled their legs together, and they each slung an arm around the other's waist.

“What would you have said?” Buck asked. “About your life?”

Tommy smiled. “You wanna hear me talk about you?”

“Oh, this life conversation includes me?” Buck replied cheekily. “I guess that's just a plus.”

Tommy stared into Buck's eyes as he thought over his words. “I would've told her that my friend Howie called me one day and asked me for an insane favor. A favor I probably should've thought twice about, but I didn't. And how he showed up with these two other guys who I'd never seen before. Then one of those guys would go on to make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Even as he teared up, a smile grew on Buck's face. “You mean Eddie, don't you?”

That got a laugh out of Tommy. A big laugh where his eyes closed and his nose scrunched up. “I'd also tell her he always knows how to make me feel better. And he's good to me, and for the first time in my life I feel complete.”

“You do?” Buck asked, eyes going soft.

“I do. I'd tell her that this guy never stops surprising me. How he cares so deeply about everyone around him that I constantly have to remind him that he exists too. How fiercely protective he is. How safe I feel with him.”

Buck fought at blinking his tears away. He cleared his throat. “Do you think your mom would wanna meet me?”

“Oh, I know she'd wanna meet you. She'd be crazy about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Because I'd like to tell her more about her son.”

“Evan.”

“I'm serious.” Buck brought his hand to Tommy's face, stroking his cheek. “I'd love to tell her what a great job she did raising you. How gentle you are, how loving and patient you are. How you always listen, and you seem to know how I'm feeling before I do. How I- I'd love to spend the rest of my life beside you, if you'd let me.”

Tommy swallowed hard. “Really?”

Buck nodded.

It wasn't a proposal. They didn't even live together yet. But it was a promise. A promise of a future together without an expiration date.

Tommy cradled himself into Buck's arms again. “I love you so much, Evan.”

Buck held him tight, hoping the depth of love he had for Tommy could be felt through his touch. “I love you too, Tommy.”

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |3|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Stabbing, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep since she got back from her therapy session. She sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. A light rain had started right after she got home, it just now seemed to be stopping a couple hours later.

She slid out of bed, stretching her arms and legs. She walked over to the window and checked that it was locked, even though she had done so before she got into bed, just like she did every night. She pushed off the windowsill and made her way out of her room. She didn’t hear any talking or the TV playing, which told her everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

She passed Tara’s room first, making sure to stop and check on her sister. She gently opened the door, making sure to go slow enough that it wouldn’t creak. Tara always rolled her eyes when she caught Sam checking in on her, but unless they were in the middle of arguing Tara didn’t seem to say anything about it, Sam thought Tara might have actually appreciated this part of her overprotectiveness. When Sam peeked her head around the door, she saw Tara sprawled out on her bed, peacefully sleeping, one of her arms was half hanging off the bed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she was glad her sister could still sleep even with the potential of Ghostface out there again.

Sam gently closed the door as she stepped back into the hall. She hated the door being closed but it was the one thing she compromised on with Tara. She knew if she made Tara keep her door open all the time, she would be crossing the line, and her paranoia would truly be taking over their lives.

As she crossed through the kitchen she peeked her head into the living room. Chad was clutching half his blanket tight against his chest as he was reclined back in the recliner. He occasionally shifted, adjusting himself in the chair and gripping the blanket tighter. Sam shook her head at the sight, somethings never changed, Chad used to do the exact same thing when Sam would babysit him, and he’d pass out on the couch or chair while everyone watched a movie.

Sam silently chuckled at the sight of Mindy and Anika sprawled out on the couch. Anika was cuddled into Mindy’s side, her arms wrapped around Mindy’s waist. Mindy had her right arm wrapped around Anika, holding her close, while her other arm was stretched across the couch, hanging off the side, and her head was thrown back, her mouth half opened as she not so quietly snored.

Sam moved back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator only to see it bare. It had been a second since they had done any grocery shopping and with the twins constantly coming over, they were running out of food much quicker than they’d normally would. She let the door gently close and when she was glancing around the kitchen her eyes landed on the pizza box still sitting on the dining table. She shrugged and flipped open the lid, seeing exactly one slice left. She quietly laughed to herself, it was better than she was expecting if she was being honest, with Chad around there was hardly ever leftovers. She grabbed the slice and took a bite, enjoying the taste of cold pizza.

Once she finished her pizza she paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm her mind. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ghostface possibly being out there, about what detective Bailey said about the two students that were killed. If they were planning on trying to kill her and Tara but they died instead, that meant someone really wanted to kill them their self. Sam wasn’t sure who she could have possible pissed off enough to want to murder her. Then she remembered she didn’t have to do anything, her existence was enough to make her ex want to pretend to fall in love with her and then try and kill her, all because her dad was Billy Loomis.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, she tried to shake off the excess energy she had from all the anxiety. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She didn’t think as she grabbed her gym bag and filled her water bottle.

She made sure to scribble a note in case Tara or any of the others woke up. She did a quick once over of the apartment before walking out the door, her gym back slung over her shoulder. She triple checked the locks before she made her way down the stairs. She knew it was stupid to go off on her own, in the middle of the night no less, but there was only one thing that she knew for sure calmed her. Working out in the middle of the night always seemed to help her de-stress more than anything. She kept telling herself she would only be gone an hour as she began the walk to the gym.

Sam looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot, it was three in the morning and there was no one in sight. Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, she wanted to right it off as her paranoia getting to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was truly back. She kept replaying checking on Tara and the twins and locking the apartment in her mind. They were all together, they were all safe, she locked the door, she triple checked that it was locked, but she wasn’t there. If anything happened, she wasn’t there.

She knew she shouldn’t have left them home alone, especially not with Ghostface most likely back but she needed to calm her nerves. She couldn’t stand being in that apartment and not moving. She just kept telling herself that Ghostface usually has a plan and Sam highly doubted that plan involved attacking everyone at the apartment when Sam wasn’t there, that didn’t seem like Ghostface.

Sam swiped her card and waited to hear the little buzz before flinging the door open. As soon as she stepped into the entryway the lights started to kick on. Sam wasn’t sure if they were emergency lights or what but after regular gym hours only a few lights turned on and it was always when the person was in that area of the gym.

Sam looked around the room, besides where she was standing the only lights that were on were the ones that were always on around the perimeter of the room. Even though she didn’t see any cars in the parking lot she knew that didn’t necessarily mean the gym would be empty. She didn’t see any sign of life though. Even though being in an empty gym alone always put her on edge, she was happy for the alone time. She was sure if anyone else was in the gym at the moment she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off them, assuming they were there to stalk and kill her.

Sam sighed as she walked over to the treadmills. She dropped her bag on the bench next to the treadmill and took out her water bottle. She plopped her water bottle into the cupholder on the machine and began changing the settings. She started slowly walking as the machine got going, popping her earbuds in before it got too fast. Just like before she started off with a light jog, she just needed to work out for an hour or so, exhaust herself enough so she could fall asleep.

She had just started to relax and lose herself in a song when she caught movement of a black cloak out of the side of her eyes. Sam jumped to the side, balancing herself on the right side of the treadmill just as a knife slashed against the controls of the machine. Sam’s eyes went wide as she stepped back off the machine, Ghostface stood before her, tilting his head back and forth as he held the knife at his side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She knew this was a bad idea, she should have never left the apartment, she knew better than to go off on her own. Ghostface being here at least meant Tara and the others were most likely safe.

Sam walked backwards, weaving her way between the other workout machines. Her eyes never left Ghostface as she slowly followed, getting ever so close with each step. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ghostface ran at her, luckily the one thing she had on Ghostface was that she knew the gym like the back of her hand. Sometimes being paranoid paid off, she scoped out the layout of the gym, memorizing where everything was and where all the exits were the first day she ever stepped foot in the building.

Ghostface suddenly stopped in their tracks making Sam suck in a breath. She could practically see the smile behind the mask. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what was behind her. The far-right wall was all brick, lined with weights, the only places for Sam to go was either rush Ghostface and dodge his knife or take her chances by running to the right because on her left was more gym equipment and the windows to the front of the gym.

Sam continued to back up until her back bumped against the weight rack. She steeled her expression. Ghostface slowly stomped forward, his movements calculated but clearly not thinking she was a threat. Sam stared straight into the dark abyss that was the eyes of the mask, her hand felt around behind her until she finally gripped the handle of one of the weights.

As soon as Ghostface raised his knife Sam tightened her grip on the weight and swung it around with all her might. The weight smashed against Ghostface’s hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. She didn’t hesitate to take off to the right, not bothering to go for the knife. She just needed to get away and get back to Tara.

Sam ran through the gym, the lights clicking on behind her as she passed under them, running too fast for most of them to catch up to her. She jumped over one of the benches but didn’t slow down. She slid when she made a sharp left turn, aiming for the front door.

Ghostface slid in front of her right, making her come to a hard stop before she crashed into him. He didn’t hesitate this time to slash his knife at her, making her lean back, watching as the blade just barely missed her.

Ghostface stalked forward, slashing his knife and making Sam back up once again. She clenched her jaw and glared at the mask figure; he was blocking the front door. She glanced to her left, seeing the glow of the red exit sign in the far corner. She had never gone out that way before, if the door opened it set off an alarm, but she knew it spilled out into an alley. She didn’t really want to end up in a dark alley in New York with Ghostface chasing her, but it seemed to be her best bet.

Sam made a dash for the door, but Ghostface jumped over one of the benches putting himself between her and the door again. She raised her arm when he swung his knife, slashing her forearm this time. Ghostface moved to slash her again, but she stepped back, tripping over a weight someone had left out.

She brought her other hand to her arm, trying to stop the bleeding as best as she could. She backed up until she hit the bench behind her. She could only watch as Ghostface stood tall above her. There was another flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and something slammed into Ghostface, sending them stumbling back.

Sam couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open at seeing you standing tall, you were the only thing between Sam and Ghostface. Sam could only look up at you, you had seemingly come out of nowhere. She caught the light from the showers out of the corner of her eye, that must have been where you had come from, you had to have been at the gym before Sam ever got there.

You stepped forward, tilting your head as you looked at Ghostface. Your back was to her, but Sam couldn’t see any fear in the way you carried yourself. Ghostface stumbled backwards as you continued forward. Sam had never seen Ghostface intimidated by someone without any weapon.

Ghostface finally seemed to figure themselves out as they gripped the knife tighter and began slashing wildly at you. You leaned from side to side, effortlessly dodging each slash as if you had all the time in the world. You just kept moving forward, forcing Ghostface to walk back, getting further and further away from Sam.

Ghostface stabbed the knife at your right side, making you jump to the left to dodge it. He then stabbed at your other side, but you grabbed the punching bag and blocked the knife. As soon as Ghostface ripped the knife out of the punching bag sand began spilling out of it. You didn’t wait to shove the punching bag, making it smack right into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface nearly lost their footing, Sam was surprised the hit hadn’t sent them to the ground. They brought their free hand to their chest, definitely having the wind knocked out of them, they’d surely have a major bruise in the morning. Ghostface tried to shake off the hit though and swung his knife again.

You caught his wrist midair, giving it a hard twist, making him lose grip of the knife. You reached out with your other hand, catching the knife before it could hit the floor then released your attacker’s wrist. You spun the handle around in your hand before you began swinging it at Ghostface.

Each slash of the knife held power, each slash with the intent to kill. You didn’t hesitate to swing the knife; it was as if you had done this before. Sam was sure you could quickly close the distance and end Ghostface, but you were almost playing with him. Ghostface continued to scramble back until the back of their foot caught a mat and sent them to the ground.

You stood above Ghostface, tilting your head as you looked down at them. Sam held her breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You flipped the knife in your hands, you looked quite comfortable with a knife, almost as if holding it were natural.

You raised the knife but before you could bring it down onto Ghostface another one came out of the shadows, stabbing you in the side. You collapsed to your knees, but you didn’t drop the knife, you swung your arm, slashing the second Ghostface on the leg. The second Ghostface didn’t attack again, they ran forward, helping the first one up and the two rushed out the exit, setting off the alarm.

You finally dropped the knife, falling back to the ground. Sam scrambled to you, pulling out her phone and dialing 911 as she kneeled down by your side. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands to your wound. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could as she waited for help to arrive. She didn’t understand why you’d help, why you’d risk your safety for her.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Just got this idea and it made me cry ok so for 141+König where the reader suddenly walks up to him and just kisses and holds him while crying cause they love him so much and they panicked at the thought of losing him maybe sth happened and they got scared or maybe they were just thinking about it idk FUCK I love them so much can't bear the thought of anything happening to them 😭💔

141 + Königs Reactions To You Crying For/Over Them

Warnings: swearing, crying, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, angst

Simon Ghost Riley-

You hadn’t been able to find Simon all day. You chalked it up to the both of you being busy on base, but usually you’d always caught a glimpse of him throughout the day.

You had a gnawing feeling at your chest, but weren’t able to act upon it until later that night. You found Simon on the rooftop of base, staring up at the night sky as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“I thought you quit smoking.” You teased, slowly walking up to him.

When Simon didn’t give his usual witty remark in reply, you knew something was wrong. His eyes remained glued to the stars, and you could see that his eyes were red.

“Simon, are you okay?” You asked, your hand resting on top of his in a comforting gesture. “Talk to me.”

Simon tore his eyes away from the sky, and flicked his cigarette over the railing. “It’s the anniversary today.”

“Anniversary?” You asked, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s been 6 years since they died.” Simon said, his voice hoarse from crying.

“Your family?” You asked, giving his hand another squeeze. In the years you’d been together, Simon had only talked about his family a few times, and you were never one to press the subject. Simon was a reserved man, and you’d don’t want to push your luck with that.

But Simon told you everything that night. Every little detail of his life when he was a child. The kind of man his father was. How his family was murdered and that the only thing he could do for them was to get revenge. No detail was spared, and once he was done speaking, Simon found a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d finally let someone in.

He took a breath, and looked up at you to find you sobbing. You didn’t know what to do, other than throw yourself into Simon’s arms, gripping around his waist at tight as you possibly could.

“Simon, I am so, so sorry you’ve gone through that. I don’t know.. I don’t know what to say other than I’m here for you. I will always be here for you.” You cried into his chest. “I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

“I know, kid.” He said, his eyes softening as he looked down at you. “I know.”

John MacTavish-

You awoke in a cold sweat, breathing rapidly as you blinked away hot tears. You’d just had the worst nightmare. You were out on a mission, when Johnny was killed right in front of you. The dream felt so real, and your heart was aching at the very real possibility that you could lose him on a mission.

You looked next to you, and found Johnny’s side of the bed cold and empty. It was clear he hadn’t been in bed for some time.

You threw the covers off of you, throwing one of Johnny’s hoodies on before making your way toward the gym- somewhere you knew he would be at this hour.

You breathed a shaky sigh of relief as you laid eyes on Johnny. He’d worked up quite the sweat, and it was clear he’d been here for some time.

Your legs reacted before your brain could catch up, and you found yourself grabbing Johnny by the collar of his shirt and roughly placing your lips on his.

You pulled back, breathless as you looked up as Johnny with tears in your eyes. He immediately frowned, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart. Are you alright?” His hands rubbed at your arms soothingly.

“I- I had a dream. You were gone and there was nothing I could do.” You sobbed, rubbing away at your tears as your eyes drifted to the floor. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

Johnny pulled you close to him, his arms holding you tight against his chest as he pressed kisses along your temple. “I’m here, Bonnie. It was just a dream. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I couldn’t sleep.”

“It felt so real.” You said, pulling away. “I.. I don’t know what I’d ever do if I lost you. I just.. I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Then don’t. Because I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep coming back to you, okay?” Johnny asked, lifting your chin up so that your eyes met his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You sniffled in return, rubbing your teary eyes against his shirt causing Johnny to chuckle softly. “Let us get back to bed, yeah?”

“I’m not even tired anymore.” You mumbled, not pulling your face from Johnnys chest.

“Well, it’s a good thing a beds good for more than just sleeping, eh?” Johnny threw you a cheeky smile, before lifting you in his arms. “Gotta show my babe I’m not going anywhere.”

John Price-

Everything happened so fast. One minute, John was by your side as a hail of bullets rained down on the two of you in the field. The next, John was halfway across the field, oblivious to the enemy behind him. It was a blur, the man raised his gun, and proceeded to shoot John in the chest.

“John!” You shrieked, watching as the man you love fell to the ground. Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest as your brain started to malfunction. Nothing else around you in that moment mattered. He couldn’t die, not like this. He couldn’t leave you.

You sprinted across the field, ignoring the shouts of the other soilders around you, your eyes welling with tears as John’s frame came into view.

You skidded to your knees, your hands immediately reaching for John’s face.

“John!” You whimpered, your eyes skimming down the length of his body.

“Baby, hey. It’s okay. The vest caught it. It just knocked the wind out of me.” John reached out to grab your hands, trying to calm you down, to no avail.

Your hands continued to frantically pull at his vest, you needed to see he was truly unharmed with your own eyes. “No! No you got shot!”

John grasped your hands in his gently, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N. Look at me.”

You blinked away tears, your bottom lip wobbling as you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. “I thought I lost you.”

“I hope you know it’s going to take a lot more than a stray bullet to keep me from you.” John said, before capturing your lips in his. “I promise you I’m okay, alright?”

You nodded, pulling away to help John to his feet. With one final firm kiss, the two of you finished out the mission, neither one of you straying too far from the other.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You twiddled your thumbs anxiously, your eyes darting back to the front door of the base every few minutes, praying Kyle would walk through the door.

141 was expected back three days ago, and according to Laswell they’d gone radio silent the day they were supposed to come back.

You choked back a sob, burying your face into your arms. You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if Kyle never came back. He was your everything.

You slowed your breathing, trying to regain your composure when the click of the front door caught your attention. Your head jumped up, your heart immediately skipping a beat as Kyle and the rest of the 141 walked through the front door, looking a little worse for wear.

Without a second of hesitation, your legs moved faster than they ever had in your life as you slammed yourself into Kyle, your arms encompassing his waist in a firm grip.

Your relationship wasn’t common knowledge, so Kyle was quite surprised when you made such a public display of affection, but it wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest. His squeezed you in return, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m here, babe. It’s okay.”

“They kept saying you weren’t coming back. That you were all dead.” You cried softly, burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest. “I was so scared.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. Everything’s going to be okay.” He promised, holding you tighter. “I’ve got you.”

The two of you remained inseparable for the remainder of the day, neither one of you taking your eyes off each other.

König-

It was no secret that König wasn’t the most popular person on base. Between his height, the frightening mask he wore, and his timid nature, he wasn’t known for making many friends.

It’d come as a shock to the majority of the people on base when it was announced that you and König were a couple.

You’d heard the whispers of course, just as König did. The rude comments thrown about him behind his back, unbeknownst to you, had König’s self esteem plummeting.

You didn’t find out until late one night when you found your boyfriend alone in the weapons locker, looking the most upset you’d ever seen him.

“Babe? You weren’t at dinner, is everything okay?” You asked, pausing a few paces in front of him. You’d never seen him like this and you were unsure of how to react.

“I’m a freak, Maus.” König spoke, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him. “No matter what I do, no matter how good I am out on the field, no matter how well I follow orders… I’ll always be the outcast.”

Your heart shattered at his words, hot tears forming in your eyes as you stepped closer to him. “König, that’s not true.”

König finally looked up at you, a solemn expression on his face- something you never wanted to see on your lover again. “It is. I know you’ve heard what they say. I’m a monster. I’m weird. I look more like the villain than the hero. It’s all things I’ve told myself before.”

“Look at me.” You said, crouching before him. You quickly wiped away the stray tears that began to fall as you spoke. “You are not any of those things. Those people are fools. They haven’t gotten to know the man underneath the mask. On the field, you’re the battering ram. A powerhouse. The perfect weapon. But off the field? You’re the best fucking person I know.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, holding him close to you as you rubbed his back soothingly. “I love you so much König. If I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you how great of a person you are.”

“I don’t deserve you Maus.” He murmured, squeezing you tighter. “But I thank god every day you’re in my life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ahh not super happy with this turned out- I’m not sure if I captured this request the best🥺

Excited to keep putting out the next few requests. Thank you again everyone for all your support❤️

[sorchathered]

It would’ve been you

Pairing- Bob Floyd x female reader

Summary- you’d finally admitted your feelings to Bob, the only problem? He doesn’t remember any of it, and now he’s got a new girlfriend.

Warnings- angst, a little bit of smut, Bob being a dummy, reader also being a dummy.

A/N- Hey babies! Let’s celebrate me finally getting back to the states with a new fic I wrote (one of three) on my 14 hour flight last night, not beta read, fuck it we ball. 😂😂

———————————————————————

Bob’s new girlfriend was awful.

No really she was. Natasha had been sending you emails for weeks about how bad things had become, and until you’d stepped back on shore you had scarcely believed it yourself.

It had been twelve weeks since you left for your special detachment. Twelve weeks since you drunkenly fell into bed with your best friend Robert Floyd.

You’d had a party at you and your roommate Natasha’s, sort of a “good luck hope you don’t die” drunk fest as your front seater Jake Seresin liked to call it. Too many drinks were had and inhibitions were pretty much non existent by the end of the night, Bob offering to help you clean up which resulted in drunken confessions of love and hands roaming bodies until the early morning hours.

It has been perfect, messy, but perfect. You’d scarcely hoped he felt the same and had been holding a candle for him for an embarrassingly long time. When you woke that morning you were in a lavender haze of ooey gooey feels, sneaking out of your room to shower and pack your things as you thought about what might be in the future for the two of you when you made it back from the mission.

But when Bob woke up with the hangover of the century and didn’t remember a single bit of the night before? Everything went to shit. You were too embarrassed to tell him the truth, if he didn’t remember then maybe it didn’t mean what you thought it had meant, and maybe he hadn’t been ready to cross that line with you after all. So you bottled it all up, pushing forward with the mission and kept contact to a minimum. He never said it but he knew something was off, you never missed an email when he wrote and lately you’d all but ignored him entirely.

About 6 weeks into your deployment, Nat hit you with a bomb you never expected- Bob had started seeing someone. You let it all out in your bunk, cried until your tears could have floated the carrier you were on and then some. You should have said something, you knew that now, and it was too little too late.

When you made it back Nat was bursting at the seams to give you all the gossip, you weren’t ready to hear it but she was quite literally bouncing on her toes to give you the tea so you settled in after a shower and let her blab.

“She’s awful y/n!!! Some wannabe instagram influencer who is on her phone constantly and oh my god she is rude!! She puts on this sweet little angel vibe for Bob but as soon as he leaves the room she’s like Cruella de Vil with blonde hair. I’m totally convinced she only wants to be with him for the military girlfriend vibes, she posts all these pictures of them together and tags them with little stupid hashtags about how she’s a military girlfriend and blah blah blah.” She says with a scowl as she pretends to fake wretch and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Is he happy with her?” You ask quietly, too afraid to look in her eyes, she’s too perceptive for her own good though; she’s known something changed between the two of you but hadn’t been able to place it.

“Honestly? He looks miserable, he hasn’t seemed like himself since you blew out of the house the morning of your deployment without so much as a goodbye. I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask, but I think you two need to talk. He misses you.” She took your hand in hers and gave you a kind smile, she was a bulldog in her field but she was the kindest soul you’d ever met. “I miss him too Natty, I really do.”

Bob had really liked Lauren in the beginning, she seemed like such a sweet girl, her socials full of pictures of her rescuing dogs and going on adventures, he could really see a future for them. But then she started only wanting to hang out when he was at the bar with his navy friends, always on her phone posting pictures of him in uniform, and bragging on her tiktok about being a Navy pilot’s girlfriend when that wasn’t even really what he did and she never seemed to listen enough to actually care about getting to know him for who he was. It had become exhausting, and he couldn’t talk to the person he wanted to the most because it felt like you’d completely ghosted him over the past few weeks. Bob was at a loss, he didn’t know what had changed between the two of you but as soon as Natasha announced to the group chat everyone was going to dinner to celebrate you and Hangman making it home he only had one thing on his mind- corner you and find out what the hell he’d done to piss you off.

When he got to the Hard Deck that night everyone was already in full party mode, drinks and pizzas littered the back wall of the bar as everyone danced along to Rooster’s rendition of “Benny and the Jets” on the piano, you perched right by his side singing the harmony and bursting into giggles as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You were breathtaking, you always had been to Bob but he’d never had the courage to tell you how he felt, always burying it when the feelings bubbled up in his chest. He was glad he hadn’t brought Lauren with him, he couldn’t clear the air between the two of you with her around, and honestly he was still wondering if he even wanted to continue a relationship with her in the first place. He would unpack all of that later, the song had ended and you’d noticed he was staring at you, your skin flushing bright red at his gaze.

You knew he’d be here, but even after weeks away you weren’t sure you were ready to face him. Did he remember what happened? Did it change anything? It certainly had to you, how could it not? You’d admitted your deepest feelings for him and then had the best sex of your life, only for him to completely forget it ever happened. It was devastating, but there wasn’t any way to avoid him so better to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with. You sat your empty beer down on a nearby table and made your way to where he was perched at the bar, ginger ale and peanuts occupying his hands as he looked you over with a nervous smile.

“Hey.” Oh god really? Hey? That’s all you could come up with? You cringed internally at the waver in your tone, you can be held responsible for millions of dollars of military tech but Bob Floyd is somehow the Achilles heel in your confidence? Jesus.

“Hi” he said softly and smiled back at you, “we’ve missed you around here, you didn’t answer any of my letters and I was starting to get worried about ya.” He fiddled with the top of the plastic cup holding the peanuts and tried to look anywhere but in your eyes, this was already the most awkward conversation he’d ever had and that was saying something for him.

“Look, Bob I don’t want to prolong this but I get it ok? We all do stupid things when we’re drunk and I won’t hold it against you. I heard you have a new girlfriend and I’ll respect that, I just…I need some time. I meant every word of what I said to you that night and if you just said it back to be kind-“

“Whoa hold on a minute, what are you talking about honey?” He thrust a hand out to catch yours and watched horror cross your face, what the hell had he done?!

“Oh-oh my god. You still don’t remember. Fuck, I- I’m sorry Bob I can’t do this right now.” You all but ran from him towards the back door and out into the night, you were fairly certain you were going to throw up or pass out. Maybe both.

Bob’s head was swimming, he stood up to follow you and had a moment flash behind his eyes. You beneath him, arms around his neck as the two of you ground into each other in your bed. He’d thought that had been a dream…it had been…right? The more he tried to think of it the more the memories came back, watching you come undone beneath him as you cried out your love for him, his hands tangled in your hair as he made the same confession. Natasha came up behind his rigid form to press a hand to his shoulder and he jerked back with a gasp, deep blue eyes wild and filled with panic. “Hey, whoah! Easy Bob, what’s going on?” She put both hands on his biceps as if to steady him but it couldn’t stop the room from spinning.

I-I’ve gotta get outta here Phoenix, did you see where y/n went? I royally screwed things up I have to see if I can fix it before it’s too late.”

She pointed towards the back door and he was bolting for it before she could say anything else, he couldn’t believe how much of a fool he’d been.

You were crouched in the sand a hundred feet or so from the bar, gasping in deep breaths as tears clouded your vision, head in your hands and body shaking. You should have just said something the morning after it happened, why didn’t you just tell him then? He still didn’t remember and if he didn’t remember then it must’ve not meant anything to him, now he was with someone else and your chance had all but evaporated. Had you completely lost him now? You didn’t know if you could bear not having him in your life, even if he wasn’t in love with you, losing your closest friend would be too much to bear.

“Y/n?” You heard him say softly behind you, he had always had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people and you supposed you should’ve known he’d come. He was the kindest person you knew, even if something made him uncomfortable he still worried about others. Selfless.

You swiped the tears away as best as you could before you stood and looked at him but it was no use, the second you locked eyes the tears were back.

“Robby, fuck I’m so sorry. I should’ve brought it up the morning after it happened but I-“

“I didn’t remember. And you thought it best to leave it be.”

“Y-yes” you said shakily, and you saw anger flash across his handsome features, a look you weren’t used to seeing from your beloved WSO.

“Damnit y/n! All that time wasted! If-if I’d’ve just known-“ he was shaking his head in frustration and you realized with a shock that he may not have remembered- but he meant what he said.

“Wait- wait, are you saying you meant it?” You said with a whisper, Bob looking at you incredulously like you’d grown three heads or something ridiculous.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I didn’t… Jesus of course I meant it! How could I not? I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you and I feel cheated now! I’ve had you in my arms, kissed you, made love to you and I don’t remember it, but the worst part is knowing that you kept this from me. We could’ve been together this whole time! I’ve been pissing my time away with a girl who couldn’t give a rats ass about me and you’ve been right here all along.”

You were so sure he’d said it in a drunken mistake, braced for the worst that it wasn’t registering that he was telling you everything you wanted to hear, tears still spilling from your eyes as you blinked up at him, and a sound of frustration escaped his mouth as he yanked you into his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks, and you melted into him as it finally settled in that this was real.

He took your face in his hands as he tipped your head up to look at him, swiping the tears away with his thumbs while you tried to bring yourself back down from the meltdown.

“Damnit girl it’s always been you, I don’t know how you could’ve thought otherwise.”

You laughed out at your stupidity and leaned up into him as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Now listen, I want to do this right, so before I let myself drown in you like I want I have something I need to do. Stay right here, wait for me.” He kissed you again and released you, already missing his warmth you let out a whine.

He chuckled and swiped a loose curl behind your ear, “in order to make love to you like I want, I have to speak to Lauren. I want a clean slate for us baby, give me a few minutes and I promise after this I’m yours until you’re sick of me.”

“Never gonna happen” you said with a grin and he mirrored you with a brilliant smile of his own.

He had a renewed confidence he hadn’t felt in months as he made his way back inside to get his phone, passing Hangman by the dart board with his arm braced against the wall and a very familiar blonde haired woman shamelessly flirting with him.

Doing a double take he confirmed with a laugh that is was in fact his girlfriend trying to shoot her shot with Jake Seresin and oddly enough it didn’t even surprise him.

“Hey Seresin, glad to see your back.” He said with a smack on the golden haired aviators back, Jake cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Baby on Board! Good to see ya, glad to be back home. This is- uhh I’m sorry sugar I don’t know that I got your name” he said gesturing towards the girl and she looked at Bob like a deer in headlights.

“Lauren, her name is Lauren. By the way, whatever was going on with you and me? It’s over sweet pea. I think you two will be very happy together, you like TikTok right Hangman? She’s real big into all that influencer shit. Anyways, you two have a good night, I’ve got somewhere else to be.” He said as he walked off winking at Natasha as she cackled from her perch near the group.

He bounded out into the sand to find you right where he let you, lighter than air as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to kiss you like he’d wanted. You gasped into his mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth to taste you. It was perfect, all your little sweet noises as you grasped at his collar and rubbed your body against his.

“Robby” you gasped out as his lips drifted down your jaw and to your neck and he felt lightheaded over all of it. “What’s on your mind baby” he said as he smiled against your skin and you shivered in his arms. “Take me home? I think- I think we need a do over. Want you so bad.” He couldn’t think of anything better, tossing you over his shoulders as you shrieked and giggled he carried you to the parking lot and placed you gently in the passenger seat of his old beat up truck.

“Let’s get you home sugar, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for, hope you weren’t planning on sleepin’ tonight, I don’t know that I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

You all but crawled into his lap in the bench seat as you ran your hands through his sandy blonde hair,

“I love you. Don’t you dare keep your hands to yourself, want you to love on me until we can’t move anymore, take me home and make me yours.”

And he did. Six months later when he put a ring on your finger it was a surprise to absolutely no one, he’d always pick on you for hiding the truth and you’d never let him live it down that he had forgotten making love to you in the first place. It seemed so silly now looking back on it, knowing you two were meant to be. He’d always been the one, and now he always would be.

———————————————————————

🏷️ tagging people who might be interested- @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @roosterforme @seitmai @jessicab1991 @sebsxphia @fandom-princess-forevermore @nerdgirljen @lenafromthenordiccoven @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky

If I missed anyone I’m sorry I’m running on three hours of sleep 😭

[tremendouscreationperson]

Part 2 of this

Next part here

Stan hadn't been able to help it. He had asked for your address to keep in touch.

He was able to now.

Able to send and receive letters. There had been a few instances when he was on the road that he dialed your number and your ma or pa answered, he had pretended to be a wrong number for them.

He was too chicken to talk to Ford why did he think he could talk to you?

But letters were different.

He could do letters.

You'd explained how you moved to California for college and loved the area so much you decided to stay. He had known you wanted to go to college but the three of you had always said you'd stay near New Jersey.

He wished so much that he kept in touch but his life was shit. He made things shit. He was shit.

His dad had been right.

He wasn't even worth turning up to a funeral for.

Stan paused mid sentence. Maybe he shouldn't be exchanging letters with you, maybe he should just stay away.

But a letter couldn't hurt.

He wouldn't have to change his voice or wear gloves or pretend he had smarts.

He could relax.

If something seemed off in the letter he could restart it.

And so the correspondence continued.

~~

It took a year and a half before you suggested coming down to see Mr Mystery himself.

Ford explained that his Uni grant had stopped so he was relying on good ol' fashioned tours of his labs to make money, only the real science didn't interest the resistance so he had to be creative.

You were sure he bored his patrons to death by explaining the rays and dials and tubing he had before coming up with the idea to sell to his clientele.

If only Stan was here. He'd be able to come up with good monsters and ghouls, just like in school.

You were able to find some sketches he gifted you (from a comic he was determined to publish) to send in your letter. Hopefully Ford could use them for ideas. It was a little bittersweet to part with them but ultimately it was for the greater good and you could always ask for them back.

So, now, here you were merely proposing a meet up but it felt... Well it felt wrong? Yeah, Ford and yourself were mates but Stanley was always the glue that kept you together.

Despite the mixed emotions you pushed on and signed your name before shoving it into an envelope and sending it off.

~~

The journey to 'Gravity Falls' - brilliant name - was not awful.

It took a solid 6 hours of driving but you knew it would be worth it. Knew it had to be done.

You would keep your friendship with Ford alive for Stan. You'd be the honorary sibling.

Once you were in Oregon you pulled up the map he had sent and followed the instructions he scratched onto it. 'Don't turn by the Horse Scarecrow go further to the Pig', 'There's a big boulder by the town sign be careful, I swear it moves', 'left by the tree that looks like Dolly'.

They were odd instructions but they were perfect. The town was definitely unique.

It was 9 when you finally made it to the 'Mystery Shack' and you had to admit it was cute. There were homemade arrows pointing in all directions and a copious amount of question marks dotted about.

The sign on the door read "closed" but you could see at the back there were lights on.

Climbing out of your car you twaddled over to the back door, rucksack slung on your shoulder, the soft sounds of a TV wafted through the door as you knocked.

The TV stopped and you could hear wood creaking as Ford approached. The door opened and revealed him wearing a suit with a large question mark tie.

He smiled down at you, gesturing for you to enter. "Hi."

"Hey." Your eyes scanned the room, mostly homemade wooden furniture with the odd trinkets or pop of colour. There were a few sciency looking gadgets but otherwise this was a humble home. "It's really cute in here."

Ford scratched the back of his neck. "Thanks."

The silence was slightly weird but you anticipated that it may be a bit weird at first. Just have to push through it.

"Have you eaten?" He asked.

"No but to be honest I'm zonked." You chuckled. "Long journey."

Ford clasped his hands. "Of course, well, you can have my room. I'll take the couch."

"Uhm, I can't kick you out of your room." You didn't realise that he would have to vacate his bed for you to visit. "I'll stay on the couch."

"You take the bed, I won't hear anything else about it." He added the last part as your mouth opened to argue.

~~

Staying with Ford was odd.

He was more casual than you remembered.

Gave fewer lectures.

But otherwise your stay was pleasant.

You helped him in the Shack; printing t-shirts, manning the register, flicking the lights on and off, making spooky noises when needed. It was fun.

You enjoyed your time here because it was silly. You were able to let loose whilst watching some suckers gape at a wax figure or a crudely put together unicorn.

After leaving it really didn't take long to decide on coming back.

Spending every other weekend up in Oregon became your routine. Yeah, the drive was shitty but it was worth it.

Ford loved it. Or well.. if he didn't he didn't say anything.

Eventually you were gifted a cot upstairs and you considered staying for longer.. perhaps even for an indefinite amount of time. It was quite conflicting wanting to stay with Ford.

You still loved Stan. You'd always love him but you saw so much of Stan in Ford it was ludicrous.

The way he'd swindle and trick, his Mr Mystery persona, and whenever a patron was a little handsy, the way he'd threaten them.

Ford never did that. He outwitted people. He was the brains.

But maybe that changed in the time you spent apart. His father had made the two of them box and from Ford's ears he'd kept up the sport.

~~

Through all your time at the shack there was only one thing that truly bothered you. It was a teeny tiny detail but it drove you insane.

Ford never removed his gloves.

He was always wearing them.

Everyday, every night, every meal, everywhere.

You'd seen his hands before.

Everyone back home had.

They were just hands!

Maybe he didn't want the town to think they were real, wanted them to think he was a fraud because being a freak was worse?

It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things but it was agitating you.

~~

"Put teeth on it." You suggest, sitting on the floor with your back leaning against the wall.

Ford made a face but nodded, prying the crows beak apart. He wandered around the shop, opening cupboards and drawers. "I'm sure I had som-"

"The blue cabinet." You pointed.

Ford opened it and voilà he produced a jar of teeth. You didn't bother to ask if they were real, either of the answers would be weird. Yes = weird. No, where did he get such realistic teeth? = Weird.

You observed Ford positioning the teeth, he waited for your approval which you gave and began gluing them.

It was late in the evening and he had promised the town and its tourists something big. So crow with teeth and a skunks tail it was.

He was precise with the glue gun but still stopped to talk with you, ever the gentleman. How had their father made them?

You hated their dad with a passion.

He was an absolute asshole.

You'd tell him that, too.

He didn't even come to the funeral. You'd assumed he had passed but Ford told you he didn't want to come. His parents were starting afresh with Shermie.

No, you wouldn't include Caryn on that. She was lovely but Filbrick...

Filbrick was something else entirely. In fact, you remember first meeting him, he glanced up at you over his newspaper before returning to the words. Stan had reassured you that that type of behaviour meant he liked you but you knew differently. You knew, even at age 10, Stan was covering for his father.

Ford hadn't experienced that. He never knew what it was to disappoint his father and you felt for Stanley. You were even present once when Ford tried to explain that Stan seemed to take short cuts and maybe that was why Filbrick was disappointed. It was later in the week when Stan confessed that he had to take short cuts, of course he did, because how else could he possibly keep up?

"Ah shit!"

Your eyes shot back to Ford who was shaking his left hand. Quickly standing to assist. "What happened?"

"Just a burn, it'll be fine." Ford brushed you off, resuming the task at hand.

You scoffed. "Ford, take the glove off, you idiot."

"It's fine." He insisted.

"You're sticking to things!"

Ford grumbled but didn't reply.

"I've seen your hands before. There's no one else around. Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not weird." He huffed turning away from you. "Don't look."

You rolled your eyes before turning away. "Fucking hell, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were Stan pretending to be Fo-"

It hit you.

All the stupid chats, all the late night beers, all the jokes, the lame costumes, the zero science talk, the scams, the lies, everything.

Your body had turned without your brain catching up and you were face to face with a Stan. Not 100% sure which one.

Stan's eyes were wide, gloved hand clutching his ungloved one. You took three steps to him, invading his personal space, to place your own hand on top of his. Slowly you tugged on it and revealed the five digits.

Wh-what did this mean?

This was Stan?

Stanley?!

Where was Ford?

Why?

Why did Stan need- what was he doi- where wa-

His palm gripped yours. "I can explain."

.

.

.

Part 3

@breadandbiscuits @aratheegreat @sp00kyfr0gs @doggosnoodles12 @50shadesofwinchesters @living-in-a-veil

[erenjaegerwifee]

✧₊⁺ Crushing pt 2

✨yall asked and shall receive! Here’s a part 2 of this drabble. I hope Yall like it! Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!

✨Warnings: MDNI 18+, friends to lovers, belly bulge, fingering, p in v, neteyam writes on you

✨Word Count: 2.3k (this was supposed to be a drabble).

✨ all my characters are aged-up! If you’re uncomfortable please do not interact with my post.

“So y/n can I ask you something?” Neteyam mumbled as you both sat together eating some fruit he picked for you. It’s been a couple of weeks since he saw you wearing that his name on your back and since then he’s been easing you into the idea of spending time with him. He has successfully managed to make you set a couple hours just for him alone which makes him extremely happy.

“Go for it” you answered waiting for his question, “I saw an avatar the other day, he had a tattoo on his shoulder and it reminded me of the Metkayina when we went…I know it��s also a human thing, have you ever considered getting one?” Neteyam asked sweetly.

His ears twitched as he looked down at you sitting so cute and small on the log, he looked like a giant next to you, but that wasn’t something that bothered him anymore after he over heard Kiri and Lo’ak talking to you about like na’vi men. He knows he has a shot he just needs to act before someone else does.

“Oh yea I have a couple right now I was hoping to get some more, I like how they look I just can’t decide what to get” you chuckle. Your laugh was ever as beautiful but that’s not what caught his attention this time, how could he have not known u have tattoos already, all the man does in his spare time is look at you.

“You have? Since when?” He asked his tone was surprised, you expected it, no one besides the woman who gave you the tattoo knows you have them. It’s not a secret really but you just never thought anyone would care. You thought it was cute neteyam was so interested. “I got my first one when I was 19 and my second about 6-7 months ago. It just finished healing.”

You’ve had this tattoo for years? And he’s never seen them? How? “Can I see them?” He blurted out making you giggle, “I can’t show you out here silly”Oh so these are intimate tattoos, even better.

“I have one behind me ear and the other on my ribs” you gestured to the places with your hands as you finish eating the fruit. “I’ll show you, let’s go back to the lab” you jump off the log and Neteyam follows suit walking behind you.

When you arrive to the lab neteyam pushed the door open for you to walk in and you take your mask off and he grabs one throwing it around his neck. Neteyam followed you through the hallways bending down so he could fit, he looked cute crouched down like that.

You walk into your room and shut the door behind you, Neteyam naturally made his way to sit on your bed, it was a big bed he could fit there easily but it was low to the floor so when he sat down, he was almost at your height but not quite.

“Ok look” you walked up to him and stood were his knees were and pulled your hair over your shoulder pulling it back for him to see the cute atokirina behind your ear behind your ear lobe (I’ll put pics of the tattoos I imagine below) it was small he couldn’t see it probably from his far away you were.

Instinctively he put his large hands on your bicep and waist and pulled you closer slotting you in between his legs. His head moved closer to see you your tattoo and your felt his breath on your collarbone as he looked at it.

You’ve never been in this kind of compromising position before especially not with neteyam. It made you slick, you squeeze your thighs together hoping his amazing na’vi nose doesn’t pick up in the scent change.

“Atokirina…” he whispered next to your ear “Tsal lu yuey sìn nga” (it is beautiful on you) his voice made your shiver, you took a deep breathe trying to calm your raging hormones. Neteyam’s hand that was on your bicep now ran through your hair pushing it back more and brought his head down so his lips could touch your tattoo.

You gasped at the feeling of him kissing you there, it was always a sensitive spot for you. Your eyes shut as his tongue darts out to taste your skin, “taste like you..”

“Neteyam… it’s healed you wouldn’t taste the ink” your voice was breathy and your legs felt weak. It was only when he heard your voice he realized what he was doing to you and boy did he love these cute reactions, “where’s the other one?”

He pulled back his head and look at you, your face was slightly blushed and your lip was trapped between your teeth, “here…” you raised you r-shirt up to right under your bra pointing to the tattoos of the knife curved under your left breast with 2 feathers hanging off the handle.

Neteyam recognized that knife, it was the one you made go him when he passed his rites of passage at 15 years old. It was 10 years ago but he never changed that knife for anything. “my knife”

“Well yea I thought it fit nicely in the spo- what are you doing neteyam” his hands moved to the base of the t-shirt you were holding up and pulled it swiftly over your head exposing you in your bra and cute shorts. Your bra was a pretty baby pink with a bow in the center.

“Neteyam!” Your hands fly down to cover your bra, “mawey (calm), just want a better look.” He pulled your close by your arms that were crossed on your chest and then pushed them out of the way so he can see the tattoo. His head dipped examining the details that are his knife on your body.

His lips met the stop kissing it before darting his tongue out making you suck in a breath. “You look beautiful, so so pretty with these, you want more?” He asked you.

You nodded your head meekly at him trying to stop your panties from leaking. “Where?”

“M-my back maybe, my thighs” you said softly. He smiled, his head came back up holding his body up to his full height. Neteyam’s hands sat on your hips running up and down twisting your small frame in his hands. He loved the way his fingered unintentionally touching when it crawls up to your waist.

He has you so close to him, his scent invades your nose so you could imagine how strongly you must smell to him. “Tell me to stop?” You didn’t say anything. You didn’t want him to stop.

Neteyam kissed you softly on the lips, his finger tips squeezed your flesh as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. His lips were so soft and tender. His mouth was much bigger than yours, his kiss progressively got more heated and his grip on your body got more intense.

You pulled away feeling Neteyam strain his body for air and brought the mask that hung on his chest up to his mouth. Neteyam took in a deep breath looking at you with his golden eyes. He is so fucking fine!

He pushed you aside and grabbed a dark blue permanent marker that sat in your desk. He pulled you onto his lap making sure you get comfortable before he leaned back against the wall next to your bed. “Gonna let me draw some tattoos on you baby? Want one here right?” His large hand slide up your thighs making you shiver and you nodded your head meekly.

Neteyam opened the marker and slipped his head to your neck sucking in your soft skin. Your human skin bruised so easily he absolutely loved how sucking on you for 3 seconds could turn you red.

Your eyes were closed as you took in the feeling of his tongue on your skin and his hand moving lightly with the cool marker pressed against your leg, you couldn’t see what he was writing so when he pulled away na moved the marker you looked down at your thigh. There in bold capital letters was NETEYAM on the entire length of your thigh.

The slight made you blush, is he staking claim? Is this some kind of ownership? Whatever it is you are loving every part of it. You don’t touch it not wanting to smear the writing but you glance up at him only to see him waiting for your reaction.

You lean forward and kiss him roughly on the lips. “Neteyam will you do something for me?” You pull away batting your eyes at him, “anything baby”

“Fuck me” your request caught him off guard but he proceeded anyways. He picked you up and laid you on the bed softly, he kneeled on the bed in front of you pulling off your shorts and underwear in one swift move. Neteyam laid on the bed next to you throwing your left leg over his thighs, and pushing your right up in the air spreading your legs. Neteyam observed your soaking folds gliding a finger through them collecting your slick.  

He brought the finger up to his lips to taste you with a sweet hum he brought his finger back down to circle your clit. With another finger he slid into your weeping hole. You head your head on his shoulder as you watch his movements with him, his other arm was thrown over your shoulder keeping you close as he finger fucks you open.  

Neteyam added another finger then another speeding up his pace until he was shaking your entire lower body, “Neteyamm AHH” you scream when you gush on his fingers. Your head was buried in his neck kissing his warm skin softly as he assaulted your cunt.  

Neteyam pulls his fingers out licking them clean before be lays flat on his back and moves you to his lap, straddling his hips. “Now baby, where else do you wanna get a tattoo?” Your mind was woozy as you stared at him, you still felt the stretch of his fingers in your cunt. Your hands press onto his abdomen leaning forward, your hair fall in front of your body. 

Neteyam wraps as arm around your back and with his fingers he unhooks your bra ad falls down your arms exposing you to him. Your tits bounce when they fall free and Neteyam’s eyes were glued to them. You took notice and guided his hands towards them so he can touch you. 

You bit your lip feeling the way he tugged on your nipples. “I- uh, I think on my collarbone and my back, my legs, maybe right over here” you run your fingers over the side of your waist where it curves inward so perfectly. Neteyam didn’t waste a moment scrambling for the marker and pulling you close right his initials, ‘N.S.’ above your collarbone where your shoulder meets your neck. 

Then he moved the marker down writing the nickname you call him ‘TEYAM’ vertically down the side of your abdomen. He dropped the mark after admiring his works and pulled you up to sit on his abdomen while he unties his loincloth. You drop your body down kissing his while he does, your breast press against his hard chest as you stick your tongue in his mouth fighting for dominance which he won. When you pull away a string of spit connect both your lips and he raised you up laying you on the bed and him on top of you.  

Your body is dwarfed beneath his as he lines his cock up with your dripping slit and slowly push into you. This is the first time you’ve ever seen a cock so big you weren’t sure it was going to fit in you. As if he read your mind, he bent his body over so he face is in front of yours and kissed you, distracting you from the painful stretch.  

You focus all your attention on the way his tongue moves so seamlessly with yours and you don’t even realize when he’s bottomed out inside you until you hear his grunt. “So tight baby, so fucking tight” Neteyam groaned, his head dropped down onto your shoulder and you wrap your legs around his sexy waist and locked them together. 

Neteyam started moving slowly listening to your loud whimpers, you’ve never been so full before. “Tey, s-so full” he pulled his head up to look down at you admiring they blush that traveled down your hot skin. His eyes traveled down your body, watching the way your tits bounce with his every thrust making him speed up to see them bounce harder.  

His faster pace made you tear up, your jaw was slack you couldn’t even form sounds because he was fucking you so good. Neteyam admired the writing he left on your skin, and his eyes made it to your tummy, your every full, bulging tummy. His eyes widen slightly as he watched the imprint of his huge cock moving in and out of you. When he bottoms out, his tip was right up to your belly button. 

When you come on his cock your moan loudly and gush on him. Neteyam felt his entire cock get wetter in your snug cunt and his head dips down into your tits sucking on your nipples as he speeds up his thrust. He pulls out and lends back stroking his cock so he can cum on your body, “Fuck, fuck gonna cum on you baby” he whimpers as his cock shot up onto your breast and stomach.  

Neteyam was panting as he dropped to the side of you looking at the mess he made of your body. He grabbed his discarded loincloth and whipped the cum down and off your body pulling you close to him, “You did so well for me baby, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked his voice was concerned. “No, no it was amazing tey” you said in a weak voice.  

“Hey baby, next time I see my name on you, want it to be permanent.” he kissed your neck wrapping his big arms around your body. And who were you to deny him what he wants? 

Taglist:

@rivatar @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @quicktosimp @its-jennarose @r11k4 @xrollingmyeyesx

[hyperdaddy4]

He had allowed her to insert them herself…the 6 inch diameter glass spheres….attached to each other by the thin carbon cord….

telling her to squat had made the process much more sensitive…causing her labia to engorge with blood as the weight of her exquisite body concentrated her bloodflow to those areas of her….

‘slowly…feel each one’….he had offered…

her delicate hand took the first…rotating it in her clear cool arousal juices…wetting it well…before placing it against her clit…then using the tip of her finger to put just the right pressure on it…sending it back and in…pushing her soft pink labia apart…wide…then closing around it as her vaginal passage opened up for it and welcomed it…

the thin black cord tight as the next beautiful sphere hung expectantly between her legs….

‘good….slower is better…yes?’..

‘yes….much’…

‘good…continue’…

one by one she pressed them in..until the first was hard against her anterior fornix….the others nestled like owl eggs in a nest…

a soft, wet, warm nest….deep inside her….

the loop just visible…

she adjusted her legs…causing the most divine sensation to fill her core..

‘can I rub my clit sir….please…its aching…and I need to…’

‘come here…’, he beckoned…

she stood….the weight of the spheres heavy in her….a thin teardrop stream of nectar falling from her distended sex….laying itself deliciously onto her smooth pale thigh…

she walked to him…

‘turn around’…

she complied…

‘bend forwards’…

slowly…she folded her body…until her head was near the floor…

‘now squeeze your clit’…he whispered….as he took the loop and slid a finger through it….

he gave her three minutes…pulling just enough on the loop, up towards her clitoris…that the last glass ball distended her …

‘oh sir’…she sighed..as her fingers increased the rhythm and pressure..

‘oh…sir…oh’..

soon, he sensed she was close…and began to pull them out..

taking what seemed like hours to slip each one out of her..

her orgasm arrived…her legs beginning to shake..as sphere 3 then 4 fell from her saturated pussy….

feeling the hot wet spheres play against her thighs..as wave after wave of intense pleasure swept through her….

5 squeezed itself out….her pulsating pussy almost firing it now..

then…6.

He laid the string on his lap as his tongue tip sought out her opening..a spit of saliva into it as he took the first sphere and quickly began to feed them back in…. her explosive orgasm still in motion..

he had to work fast…keeping her here was not easy..:but it could be done….

40 minutes later she fell from him…her pussy sliding up and off his perfect cock as a third orgasm took her quite by surprise…onto the floor at his feet..

‘no more sir…no more’..

he stood….walked to her…his cock glistening with cum and her…and bent down…

‘not your decision my darling…not your decision’.

Find a true master…

they are out there…

waiting, to take you on a journey across the elysian fields of your mind….

and from there..deep into the galaxy that is your soul..

a journey….that will change you..elevate you…

explore you and adore you.

You have been told.

hd4

[forestshadow-wolf]

Soap leading a team into a known structurally unsound building, but they have to check it because of orders from brass, and while he didn't have to go on the OP, he is the most qualified to lead it, and he could never just not go when his skills could potentially save lives.

Ghost had tried to go in his stead because he had tweaked his knee the day prior, and it still ached. But soap could do this kind of work in his sleeps... omay probably not, but Ghost doesn't know how to tell which hairline fractures cut all the way through, and which don't, and which could if given too much weight. There are calculations and variables to estimate how much a floor can hold, but none of those matter to spotting and weakspots.

It's been a while since Soap has had to lead a team, being on a specialized task force, but he falls back into it like riding a bike.

Now the problem lies, not with non-load bearing supports but, with the overconfident grunts. They think just because this step, that one, and the one before were safe, that the next will be too.

And not to say that Soap always knows when or if the wall or floor or ceiling will or won't hold, just that he knows how to test a floor or a wall, he knows where to hold his weight, he knows that one collapse can lead to so many others. And that's all just based on in-field experience. Not to even bring up the weeks of training and education he had to work through to be able to identify external weak points when dealing with structural damage; one of the first things you're taught when you specialize in demolitions is how to do it safely.

But no no ignore the officer, that maybe, a little bit knows what he was doing. Yeah go on ahead of him. Oh hey, yeah, that's a good idea, keep stomping around.

The building, little more than a 3-story house, breaths and groans around them like a wounded animal. It puts him on edge just like every other time. Wounds like to get worse if they aren't babied. And they definitely are not babying this one.

And given all the variables it wasn't all too surprising hear the smallest groan to his left, more feeling than hearing it, that sounded just a little too hollow.

"Stop! Don't move," He barked, like it was a matter of life and death, because it was, "who did that? Who just moved." All the soldiers frozen to the spot as he stared at each one, an intensity in his gaze even he could feel, trying to pinpoint where the weakness was.

Fidgeting and nervous weigh shifting, another whimper. Like yanking on a rope his attention to the boot of a reckless soldier. It was instinct alone that he saw his own hand pushing the grunt off the spot.

But a misstep on his part, a pained cry of wood and plaster.

The drop wasn't the furthest, neither the shortest, 5 maybe 6 meters. He landed on his kit. Debris followed him down, landing on his already aching knee. None too heavy, but none too light, and gravity had it's playtime.

It knocked every bit of air from his lungs, and at first he thought he collapsed a lung. Half a minute later it was clear to be false. But a shit ton of bruising, and maybe a cracked rib or two neither felt good.

He pawed at his radio, still fighting for air.

"Watcher," he wheezed

"Send traffic, 7-1" that was Ghost's voice

He was still gasping for air and it took him longer than he liked to signal for one of the grunts to relay the OP was worthless. Not worth the risk.

"Copy. Soap, how copy?" Ghost sounded calm if only a little lower in worry, hand to tell if nobody was listening. Soap couldn't muster the energy to both hold his head up and respond (he could, but it was a lot of work, so he didn't)

"Need, ice. And new lungs." He said out of breath. His knee throbbed, and no doubt it would be even angrier in the coming hours.

"Your knee?"

"Mh, fucked." He breathed, rallying to pick himself up. "Heading for exfil."

One of the grunts came to help him to his feet. "Copy."

His knee only protested more the way to exfil. And it squeezed like a vice so tight he could barely walk by they time they touched back on base. If he couldn't see, he'd almost think it fell right off with the pressure. And yet there it was still, didn't even look swollen under his loose pantleg.

Ghost was waiting for him when he hobbled his way out, and gear heavy oh his joints, sore to hell and back, but alive.

"We need to get that looked at," Ghost took him under the shoulder to take some of his weight, and he reached for the gear in soap's hand. We. Not you. Like it was his injury too. We. Like it hadn't even crossed his mind for soap to go alone.

"Ice tonight, doc tomorrow." He sighed, too tired and sore and bruised to even think about all the shit that would entail. He was tired, and hurt, and his leg was gonna fall off. And Ghost looked like he wanted to argue, but he just nodded because they both knew what it was like when all you wanted to do was play like the dead and do nothing else for 12 hours.

"Doc tomorrow." He spoke like he was reminding soap while he opened Soap door, with key that soap gave him, like it was his room and not soap's.

"Tomorrow." Soap agreed, sitting gingerly on his bed. Ghost turned, grabbing ice for him. Buttons and clips and velcros undid as soap pulled at them. Dusty, sweaty, dirty shirt and jeans went into a pile too. And he clipped his leg brace around his knee, and pulled the straps tight.

He doesn't even remember laying down, but he was asleep before Ghost even got back with the ice

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 5

MDNI // 18+ content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | extra: dinner date with Minho

full master list for additional installments

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 1400 (part 5)

Chapter Summary: Aftercare and kindness from one of the officers.

A/n: This was supposed to be the double pen with the Aussies, but I felt it really important for our y/n to have a breather after that sesh with Jeongin. I promise next chapter it will be them.

CW: aftercare, introspection, shame, comfort.

You lay on the wet, cold tiles alone, and begin to sob. What had just taken place was intense and now your body is shaking. You can’t make sense of it. You enjoyed what Jeongin did to you, but maybe your body couldn’t handle it?

A  little voice inside you says there must be something wrong with you if that’s the kind of interaction you craved.  

You pull your knees to your chest and will yourself to start counting, just like you were instructed.

One… two… three… 

You’re so fucking sick.

What’s wrong with you?

Four… five… six.

Freak! You’re a freak!

You try to ignore the voice in your head.

You barely get to the count of ten before the bathroom door violently opens. You look up, startled, to find Detective Minho holding a towel and large, thick blanket staring at you with concern.

He puts them down by the sink and immediately comes to crouch down in front of you. 

“You can stop counting now.” He whispers, reaching out to push the wet strands of hair out of your face. 

“Look at me.” He tilts your head up so you can’t do anything but look him in the eye. His expression held a tenderness, much like when he carefully took you to your cell earlier. 

“Fuck. You should have used your safe word, not just the colour system.” He clicks his tongue and stands, helping you to your feet. “Let’s wash you properly and get you warm.”

You know you’re out of it when you can barely stand, but Minho supports you carefully with strong arms. He washes you too, gently, all the while his clothes become more and more drenched.

”Turn around, I need to wash your back.” He says. You allow him to turn you to face the wall while he soaps up your back. You’re not sure what he must be thinking, but you don’t want him  getting the wrong idea about his - you’re not sure what they are to each other. Friend? Colleague?

”I wanted it.” You whisper ashamedly. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” You’re met with a grunt and silence.

”How did you know I was here?” You ask.

”Jeongin came and got me straight away.” He replied. “We’re not really going to leave you without aftercare. We’re not that bad.” He scoffs at the last part of the sentence, as though he doesn’t quite believe himself.

He shuts off the water and dries you down with the towel. Neither of you say anything, despite the fact you have so many questions. He is intriguing to you, and, for some reason, you feel safest with him. 

Sure Officer Han and Hyunjin seem safe and kind, but Minho? He feels protective, considerate. Even if he did do those extreme things to you in the interrogation room.

After he deems you dry enough, he wraps the thick blanket around you.

”Are we going straight to the Chief and-“

”You’re not in any state to go there yet. You’re going to rest.” He decides, and leads you back towards your cell. 

But that’s not where he’s taking you. You realize you’re headed to the interrogation rooms. Your heart picks up a gear, and you wonder if you’re in for a surprise scenario? Maybe Minho wants another turn of you? The thought makes you feel nervous in your stomach, but not in a fearful way. Oh god, you’re not feeling feelings are you?

Officer Minho opens the door to an interrogation room, and it can’t be any more different from the one you were in earlier. This one has painted walls, fresh, clean linoleum flooring, and a warm glow coming from the lamps around the room. A desk stands where the metal slab of a table was in the other room, and a couch on the far wall. 

“Come, sit. Rest.” Minho instructs, gesturing to the couch.

You do as you’re told, and sit on the couch, tucking your legs up and snuggling into the blanket.

Minho sits next to you, picking up a book from a side table and begins to read. 

You’re not sure what to do. He obviously doesn’t want to chat, or fuck, so you decide to close your eyes and rest just like he suggested.

You would love to ask him why he does this for a job, or even something as little as what his favorite food, or movie is. But you don’t. You’re far more tired than you thought, drifting off quickly.

You’re not sure how long you’d been asleep for when a soft knock at the door has you stirring, and you open an eye to watch Han enter the room with coffee cups. You let your eyes close again, listening to their conversation. 

“Looks like Jeongin really gave it to her?” He whispers in a shocked tone. 

“She’s fine. Just needs to rest. From what Jeongin said, she used the color code orange, then requested he use the real knife.”

Han let out a low whistle. “No wonder she needed to hire us if this is what her fantasies entail.” He pauses. “She looks so pretty when she’s asleep.” He coos.

“Absolutely not.” Minho says sternly.

“But,” he whines. “She was really into it before.”

“We’re not on the clock. She needs rest, and besides, you will get another chance tomorrow.”

“Ugh! I had to share her before, and tomorrow I’ll have to share her with everyone.” You can’t see him but you can tell by his tone he’s pouting. 

“Ya! I had to share too, remember.” He growls.

Their bickering is oddly comforting, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep again, dreaming of Minho taking you out for a meal and talking about normal, everyday things.

————-

You wake to the smell of coffee and a cooked breakfast, although you’re not sure whether it’s really morning or not. You lost track of time long ago.

“Here, y/n. Eat.” Minho hands you a plate of eggs, toast and sausages. “You’ll need your strength for your final two encounters.” 

You take the plate, smiling at the man who looks like he hasn't slept a wink. Was he watching over you?

He perches himself on the edge of the desk and watches you take a bite of toast. 

“What made you sign up for… this?” He asks curiously. 

You hesitate. “Well…” you set the slice of toast down on the plate. “ Oh god can you really share this? “It’s just…I’ve got these really intense fantasies. I don’t know why. I don’t know where they came from.” Tears begian to form in your eyes. “I guess I’m just some sick freak or something.”

You can’t hold back the tears and they spill down your cheeks and Minho is by your side in a heartbeat. 

“Hey, hey… shh.” He pulls your hands away from where you’re trying to hide your face. “Listen to me. You’re absolutely not a sick freak. Who the fuck made you believe that?” 

It was all your previous partners. Their words ring in your head. 

You’re too much.

Why would you want me to do that?

What’s wrong with you?

Every single one of them made you think there's something wrong with you. You tried to make the fantasies go away. You really did. But they wouldn’t. You couldn’t shake them. You tried to be satisfied with “regular” sex, and yes, that was enjoyable to a point. But you craved more.

“Why do you do this job?” You meet his eyes. He hesitates, eyes blinking rapidly. Maybe no one has ever asked him this?

“Because I have intense fantasies too.” He leans back on the couch. “I think all of us here do. I think all of us have felt different, or like as you said, a “freak”, but we’re not. None of us, including you, are freaks. As long as boundaries and rules are established, it’s perfectly fine.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “You’re the first person to make me feel like I’m normal.” You whisper.

He leans forward and wipes the last of your tears away, and you feel a tug in your chest. His eyes catch your lips, and there’s a flicker of want in his expression. Then you remember he doesn’t do “kissing on the lips”. Then why does he look like he wants to?

A silence hangs in the air, but the moment is lost when there’s a knock at the door.

“It’s time.” Minho whispers. 

————-

a/n: Okay, so I am not sure what happened, but Minho! He snuck in and made y/n's heart skip a beat.... and I feel like maybe his did too.

Next up: really, we will have Felix and Channie!

-----

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