#hands get tired. they get like actually weak and i sometimes jus have to not use my hadnsd for a bit

[feathers-of-fluff]

Fighting Back The Giant

Summary: Lucas is on the run from his tormentor like usual, but things are suddenly different once he decides to finally face his fears and fight back, but he didn’t mean it literally when he accidentally lands on MX’s back. Little did Lucas know, he’d find out a playful weakness at this moment.

~

“COME BACK HERE!”

Lucas ran as fast as his legs could let him, even if they were begging for him to stop and rest. The ground beneath him shook as loud footsteps emitted from behind while a voice now recognizable enough yelled, making him refuse to look back in fear of falling in a pit or seeing his grinning face.

He jumped over a couple of stairs and pipes, sometimes even landed on the floating bricks, while MX rammed through the obstacles like they were nothing to him. This scared Lucas like hell since he was first lured inside the game, and it still does to this day.

“L-LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY! I JU-JUST WANT OUT OF HERE!” Lucas begged whilst panting, almost tripping over but quickly regained his balance to jump over another one of the stair obstacles.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE FROM ME, LUCAS. YOU’LL JUST TIRE YOURSELF OUT AT ANY MOMENT.” The giant plumber responded, his last sentence somehow sounding correct. Then again, stopping would result in death- or in other words- stomped on like a Goomba.

Up ahead was a large pit, the same one where MX would always end up falling in, and Lucas knew very well from his unending experience. He jumps onto the three floating bricks that were nearby and over to the lined up ones that included a question block. Hearing the low-pitched sound of MX jumping had him sprinting to the edge of the pit out of panic to avoid going down with him.

Some of his worries went away when he heard the brute’s scream as he fell down to the bottom with a loud thud. Lucas puts his hand on a pipe as he catches his breath before leaning against it, sliding to the ground.

(It won’t be long before he comes back up again… what am I supposed to do now..?)

He knew there was no other way of leaving this place. He could’ve died from thirst or starvation, but no, it was like there was no heaven for him. He’d rather have the amount of lives you’d normally see than infinite.

He sat there silent until his hands were clutched into fists, slowly gaining bravery as he got up. He took a few deep breaths to get rid of some of his anxiety. “…You know what?”

“I’m n-not gonna be afraid of you anymore! S-Sure, I may be still am, but-but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be running away from you all the time like a coward!” He spoke out, yelling down at the darkened pit assuming MX should be hearing him by now. “You hear me?! I’m not staying here any longer whether you like it o-or not!”

He turns around to the pipe he was leaning on before, jumping on top of it. He had to think of some plan to fight back without getting himself killed, but how when MX is that bigger than him?

An idea suddenly struck him. It’s somewhat of a death risk, but he’d do (almost) anything to get out of this hellhole.

“Okay… I can do this.” He breathed in and out a few times to prepare himself, attempting to encourage himself. “I can do this…”

Those same words of his repeated in his head as he waited for something to happen however quiet it may be.

…Maybe a bit too quiet.

…What’s taking him so lo-

“WAHOO!!”

The immediate moment he came jumping out, Lucas took the time to quickly jump off the pipe hoping to land right.

(Please on the hat, please on the hat, please on the hat, please on the hat, please on the hat-!)

The green plumber boy almost slipped off from the impact of the giant Mario ramming down the pipe, but managed to grab onto the hat.

…However, an eyebrow rose once Lucas felt whatever he had landed on, confused for a second until his eyes widened when he saw that it was actually the back of MX instead of his hat. Immediately, he felt like regretting his decision.

“You can’t hide forever, Lucas. Come out!” MX looked around searching for the boy. His loud voice brought fear back to Lucas, and to think he was actually going to be brave for once too.

He quieted his anxious breathing, trying not to look down before beginning to climb up to the top of MX’s head. As the brute searched though, he begins to feel something going up his back but luckily shrugged it off and went back to looking.

“Thank god…” He whispered with a sigh of relief, continuing his risky journey. It was almost like hiking on a mountain except if it were to be a walking beast unaware of his presence, and speaking of mountains, thinking about this makes him interested to go and see them someday… outside of the cartridge, of course. It felt somewhat nice in a way that wasn’t in the middle of a fight or flight situation.. sort of.

“WHoA-!” His thoughts were interrupted when MX randomly decided to jump back over to the starting edge of the pit he fell in, this time landing with success. Lucas began slowly sliding down again, now clawing his way back up not realizing his tormentor would notice. He did feel a flinch and hear him snicker however, which was… unexpected.

A large hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere, startling Lucas into moving out of the way to avoid getting squashed. It scratched the back for a moment before returning to wherever it came from. Turns out, that hand belonged to MX thinking it was just an itch.

An itch that felt a bit too… tickly.

(I-Is he actually..?) The boy thought to himself. He was feeling curious to find out, but at the same time he also had the feeling of this being a bad idea. But like they say, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? Some small people are sometimes hard to find for big ones after all.

“Quit acting like a coward and come out already, LucaHAHAS-!” MX yelped, putting a hand over his mouth snickering as he suddenly felt a ticklish sensation. Lucas, being the cause of this, skittered his fingers around the back while holding onto the giant’s clothing with a surprised look on his face. He couldn’t believe what he was actually hearing, and he wasn’t even questioning if it was a dream. This was all real.

“T-Thahahat betteheher not behe yohohou on my fAHAHAcking back!” He yelled, trying to reach his hand for the green plumber. He would have easily grabbed him with no problem if it weren’t for him moving around like a spider.

“Wow, Ihi never knew that the big bad ‘Mario’ himself would be ticklish!” He chuckled, dodging the giant hand before continuing his tickle attack. He was still feeling hesitant due to worry, but at least this was distracting MX.

“Nohohot truhuhue, kihiddo! Now gehehet OhOHOHOFF-!” His voice cracked a little when Lucas started skittering at the spine area of his back.

“If that’s ’not true’, then maybe you wouldn’t mind this?” He smirked, now tracing his finger up and down getting some unexpected giggles out of him.

“IHIIHI DOHOHO MIND THAHAT-! KKHAAAHAHA! CUHUHUT IT OUHUHUT!” MX cackled, making a second attempt at grabbing the boy, but to no avail. It was a surprise for him that he’s this fast to avoid being torn apart at a certain point like this.

“After all the times you’ve killed me? Hah! I doubt I’d be stopping anytime soon unless you promise to let me live!” He carefully moves down to the side of his overalls, wiggling his fingers over it. “Now I wonder if you’re ticklish here as well…”

“DOhon’t you try it, ohohor I swEHEHAHAHAHA-!” He bursted in laughter as the green plumber begins clawing at his side. He couldn’t help but wonder how a smaller victim’s fingers of theirs could tickle more than a regular-sized human’s, but it might have been due to how unknowingly sensitive he was. “Or you swear what, you’ll crush me into a pancake? Nice threat, but not enough to scare me!” Lucas replied with a smug.

Now digging his fingers in his ribs, the smug changes to more of a mischievous look as if he was thinking of playing a prank on someone, which he was except that wasn’t the point as he looked at the giant’s stomach with a playful idea on mind. Bellies were excellent spots to go for most of the time, so it should be the same for MX.

His focus quickly shifts when MX suddenly began slowly collapsing to the ground, alerting him into jumping over to the strap of his overalls without any hesitation before he could accidentally get himself crushed. A short thud emitted as he was now on his back cackling almost like a maniac which scared him a bit.

He shivered as he carefully removed his hands off the strap before hopping over to MX’s stomach, wiggling his fingers in the middle of the air with a chuckle. “Giving up yet?” He grinned.

“WHahahat mahakes you thihink that Ihi will? Ihif anything, it’s you who should be giving up, Lucahas.” His giggles remained due to the phantom tickles on his side, looking his head at him only to witness what he’s preparing to commit.

“…Don’t. You. Dare.” He threatened.

“Oh well then, suit yourself! Tickle tickle tickle~!” He teased, now spidering around what can now be considered as MX’s #1 tickle spot by the sound of him falling into hysterical laughter, closing his eye sockets shut while slamming his fist against the ground. He looked up at him to see his face surrounded by a blush. He snickered at the sight of it, seemingly having fun with this current experience.

“FFAAHAHAHACK! OHOHOKAY, OKAY, FIHIHINE! IHIHI GIVE UHUHUP, JUHUHUST STAHAHAHAP-!” He forfeited. Lucas gives his stomach one more tickle before stopping, crossing his arms like he’s been satisfied by victory. The giant plumber catches his breath for a few minutes or so before sitting up a bit with a grunt.

“…So,” he hesitated just by looking at his face, “promise n-not to put me.. through all that again?”

Seeing him hesitantly hold his hand out, MX thought for a second before responding. “…Sure, champ. Promise.” He shook Lucas’ hand with his finger because of how big he was.

By his tone he sounded somewhat… trusting, and he wasn’t so sure about it, but at least nowadays he’ll at least leave him be for once.

…Or so he thought.

A shriek came out of him as he was suddenly snatched up by the same hand he shook once they both let go, his fears slowly coming back to him. Lucas then hears chuckling from the giant.

“GOTCHA…”

Turns out he’s been crossing fingers without his awareness.

~

To be continued

#sfw tickling #tickle fic #lee!mx #ler!lucas #didn’t know what else to tag this as soooo…. #I FORGOT TO PUT IN READ MORE FOR A SEC LOL #mario ‘85 tickle

[n0ct0urn1quet]

@fuckshitassbitchcockballs babe come play among us with me

#im JOKING ik u are going seepy rn so like BHSJBHDBHJ #also .aslso hey i didnt get a chance to ask u last night #well ok ys i did i asked u but u fell asleep before u answereD FBHJBHJGJGHBJGHBG #but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh so abt not feeling like typing rn #would u . be cool. with me doing like an audio gaypost. as in me talking and rambling abt gay shit instead of typing it out #like u would jus listen 2 me talke insteafd of Reading Stuf fyk what i mean #i mean like if u woudlnt be cool with that thas oaky #i am just !!!!!!! sometimes do not feel like typing a lot #hands get tired. they get like actually weak and i sometimes jus have to not use my hadnsd for a bit #but also soietms i just get tired #ANYWYAs #would u be okaey with me doing that maybe. if not thas totally cool n i understand if u wouldnt be okey with that but!!!!!! idk #ig talking abt this Out Loud will not only make me better at saying stuff like that out loud #but also like........ u get 2 hear me talke more often bc like we only ever Hear Our Own Voices when we vc.......... which isnt super often #bc Busy an also bc Schoole #but like!!!!! idk man i think itd be neat BUT AGIN #if ur not coole with me doing that i toatlly understannde its not a bi g dela #but anyways yeas i am seepy i am gay for u an hjgjhgf . squiseh #i was going to react to the heart emoj with squishe but i couldnt fit another s so i was like :( no squishe :( #i coulda jus done squihe but that wouldve just sounded weir DHJJHHJD #also sry for all the typos like i said im. tired. hansd r weak. shaky even. not like anxiety shaky but just hghghg wobbley #but UM yeah i wana squishe u stomac. it squishe it soft it cosie #also this is a gay thing 2 say but...... i would rly love it if u did like . get squishier n chumbier n stuff #bc like!!!! the n youll look like me!!! and youll be chumbie like me adnd itll make me feel better abt myself ig!!!!!! #that prolly sounds weird but idk i just bfhggfknjfgk cjhumby!!!! #i jsut bhhbjgf. chumby good actually :) chumby squish an warm comfie :) #ok that is al sry i canot and do not enjoy typing rn hands HURT ! ow #im gonna go fuckinnnnnnnn fix hmy hands. stupidt hadn dmont #NAWYs #ill see ya tomororwe hunnie goodnite im lobve u so much u squishe babie <3

[mummybear]

Help You Out

Words: 3483

Warnings: Massage, Swearing, Smut, Major Dirty Talk (Really Guys What’s New?), Girl On Top, Topping From Bottom, Oral (Female Receiving), Biting, Slightly Possessive Dean, Multiple Orgasms. Think that’s it.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Mentions of Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s back hurts after so many nights in different motels, so when he and Y/N are forced to share a bed she offers him a hand to get rid of the ache, will he agree to her help when he’s been so distant with her lately?

A/N: @spndeanbingo Square filled - Motel Room. And a big thank you as always to my amazing beta @negans-lucille-tblr

Dean grumbles something under his breath, shifting awkwardly in his seat as he drives, mere minutes away from the motel. You couldn’t wait to get inside the room and take a shower, you were still feeling a little grimy from the previous motel, but luckily Sam actually seemed fairly impressed with the ones at this motel, and Sam Winchester was very rarely wrong when it came to showers.

“This bed better not be as bad as the last one, my back still hurts, damn lumps, I miss my-” Before he can finish his grumbling complaints, you cut him off already knowing what he’s going to say, safe to say this was far from the first time you’d heard it even in the past ten minutes.

“You miss your memory foam mattress back at the bunker, yes I know, and yes I also know that it remembers you.” You sigh loudly, before continuing with a lighter tone to your voice. “Look Dean, we’re here now, we can sleep for a bit then hit the road in the morning, okay?” You try and reason, doing your best to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Dean wasn’t much fun to be around when he was cranky and tired, nor when he was hungry for that matter. They were two of Dean’s biggest weaknesses. He kept insisting he was fine, but Sam and you had known better.

The two of you climbed out of the Impala and headed over to the main office, where a grumpy looking old man was thumbing through the paper.

“Good evening, could we get a double room please,” you ask as nicely as possible, the guy looks up and barely grunts, so you try a different tact, “two beds. One room.” You tell him, trying to keep the edge out of your voice.

“Only one double bed, one room.” The man tells you barely above a mutter, “take it or leave it.”

“We can go somewhere else,” Dean mutters quietly, turning to walk away from the counter. You frown in confusion looking back at Dean, with the key already in hand as you shake your head at the elder Winchester’s behaviour.

“We’ll take it.” You tell the man begrudgingly, not missing the slight hint of panic that flashes across Dean’s face when he looks back at you. You watch Dean with confusion as he turns and leaves you behind. You can’t put your finger on what the hell is wrong with him, and the last few days it has only gotten worse, but you follow him out of the office regardless.

-

You both grab your duffle bags from the Impala’s trunk, an uncomfortable silence surrounding the two of you, which was something you weren’t used to when it came to Dean, no matter how grumpy he was the two of you never really seemed to be affected, but the last few days you noticed there had been something that changed between the two of you.

When you stepped inside the room it already looked at least a little better than the last one you’d had to stay in. From what you can see the bathroom is cleaner and the bed looks a lot more comfortable and sanitary, though you were sure not all things would be coming up roses.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the sofa or something,” Dean offers, tossing his bag onto the small sofa, which was most definitely not going to work for a Winchester, not in a million years.

“Don’t be silly, Dean, we can share. We’re both adults. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the sofa, because you couldn’t fit on that even if someone cut your legs off at the knees,” you half laugh, making your way into the bathroom with your own bag. Dean follows you to the doorway and leans against it. “Dean, it doesn’t make sense for us to stay here if you can’t even sleep. And I guarantee you, there is no way that you’re getting any sleep on that couch,” you reason, as you adjust the temperature of the shower and pull the curtain closed.

Dean scratches at the back of his neck and shifts awkwardly on the spot, “I uh, move a lot in my sleep, especially when I’m tired. Wouldn’t wanna hurt you or somethin’. I can just go sleep in the car.”

“Don’t make me throw you on that bed, we both know I can do it,” you warn him playfully, a little confused when you see a blush on his cheeks. You pull off your flannel and drop it to the floor.

“Now go get your butt in bed, please, we can share. But I draw the limit at you watching me get undressed.” You see him shift on the spot again. “I promise, if you get too aggressive at any point then I can sleep on the couch,” you assure him, finally earning yourself a slight nod.

“O-Okay, if you’re sure,” Dean stutters his half answer before stumbling out of the door and closing it behind him.

“So adorable sometimes,” you laugh to yourself, now fully undressed you climb into the shower, letting the hot water take you away for a little while.

-

By the time you come out from your shower Dean has collapsed on one side of the bed, fast asleep on his stomach, his jeans still clinging to his ankle as he groans something into the pillow his face is squished into.

You can’t help but admire the way he looks, even with his face pressed into the pillow he’s still one of the most handsome men you’d ever met. Those strong legs and the curve of his firm ass in those boxers, or the strong lines of muscle which are more visible in his back from this position, then of course, there’s dimples at the base of his spine that you’d never noticed before. His arms are under the pillow beneath his head, but you can see the defined muscles in them. You’d always had a thing for Dean’s arms, even though you’d tried not to let yourself look for too long, for fear he or Sam would catch you.

You shake yourself from your slight daze and throw your duffle down alongside Dean’s. Carefully tugging his jeans from his ankle and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, before pulling the covers over his body.

You freeze as he shifts in bed, worried that you’ve woken him up, but instead he curls slightly into the covers and onto his side, one arm beneath his pillow as he gets comfortable again. You breathe properly again when he settles, and you climb into your own side, pulling the covers up.

Dean’s body warmth and his light snores eventually lull you into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

-

You practically jump awake from your peaceful sleep, it takes you a minute to remember where you are, then you hear that noise again, Dean’s angrily grumbling something beside you as he tosses and turns in bed.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” You ask quietly, voice still heavy and thick with sleep as you turn to look in his direction.

“Jus’ my fuckin’ back, sweetheart, sorry, go back to sleep,” Dean growls in sleepy irritation, throwing himself onto his back again.

You sigh and sit up, turning on the bedside lamp, “turn over, lay on your stomach. I can give you a massage. I’ve had to do it before, Dean, when I was on a hunt with a friend of mine who fucked up her shoulder.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go back to sleep. Besides, massages never work on me,” Dean argues, only annoying you that much more.

“Dean, stop arguing, just let me try and help for fuck's sake.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he grunts shifting onto his front.

You feel him stiffen beneath you as you straddle his ass, “just shut up grumpy ass. Listen to me, close your eyes and take a deep breath, relax,” you tell him as quietly as you can, trying to keep your voice soft, your ass hovering above his as you lean forwards and firmly grip his shoulders. He’s so tense and as you move your thumbs over his knotted muscles, you can tell you might be here a little while. Dean lets out a groan as you press and rotate your thumbs at the base of his neck, slowly making your way down his spine, digging into the knotted muscles as you move.

Well fuck, that may have been the sexiest noise that you’d ever heard. You try and ignore the way his groan shoots arousal straight between your legs, but you have to bite your own lip when you watch the way his hands fist at the sheets beneath him.

“How’s that feel?” you ask him, just above a whisper as your thumbs press into the muscles around his shoulder blades. Dean turns his head to the side and moans as you press against a particularly stubborn knot. You have to fight with yourself not to roll your hips against his ass.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve really got somethin’- Oh God,” he groans deeply and you swear your heart is pounding when he continues to talk in that same deep voice. “Your hands are like fuckin’ magic, I’m gonna have to listen to you more often.” He moans again as you move lower, sliding down so you're sitting on the backs of his thighs, your thumbs pressing into the bottom of his spine and the top of that firm ass of his.

You hate how shaky your voice is when you reply and how uncomfortable your panties have become. “Yeah, I guess you will. Glad you’re finally seeing sense.”

“You could charge for this, damn,” Dean rasps, as you lift yourself off of his thighs, terrified he’ll be able to feel how damp your panties are against his skin. You gently pull down the top of his boxers, digging your thumbs into the firm muscles feeling him relax under you. Then your hands move down further, gently pressing your thumbs under the curve of his ass and down his strong thighs.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, Y/N,” he all but growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to moan his name, practically biting into your tongue.

You take a deep breath and tap Dean’s shoulder gently before you lose your nerve, feeling the lump pressing at the base of your throat.

“You wanna turn over? So that I can do the front,” you explain just above a whisper, feeling him stiffen beneath you.

“That might not be such a good idea, Y/N,” he warns you, his voice taking on a deeper and rougher tone than before.

“Please Dean, thought we agreed you should listen to me more often,” you joke shakily; even you’re not sure if this is a good idea anymore. You think that you might know the reason he doesn’t want to turn over, but the thought alone only makes you want him to do it more.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he rasps, as you sit up a little higher, allowing him to turn onto his back beneath you. As soon as they’re able to, his big green eyes lock on yours, looking a little panicked, and you quickly notice that his face is flushed.

You gasp as you lower yourself into his lap, feeling the impressive bulge that’s currently pressing between your thighs. You do your best to ignore it as you press your thumbs into the front of his shoulders and down his collarbone and over his pecks, before looking into his eyes again. Safe to say that was a big mistake.

His big hands grip your thighs when you involuntarily roll your hips against him, feeling his thickness press against you clit. Your nails sink into his pecs and he moans your name, “feel better, Dean?” you ask barely above a whisper as his hands drag roughly up your thighs and grip your ass tightly, finally pulling a whimper from your parted lips.

“Oh yeah, so much better, sweetheart,” Dean all but growls, nails sinking into your ass as his grip tightens.

You slump forward, letting your hands rest either side of his head as you look into one another’s eyes. “Is this why you’ve been weird around me lately? Because your back hurts? Or does it have more to do with the raging hard on between your legs?” you question him, unable to stop the smirk from curling at your lips when his cheeks blush bright red.

“I uh… I guess the last one,” he tells you quietly, swallowing hard and squeezing your ass harder. You cock your eyebrow in confusion as you look down at him, “look, don’t laugh, but I’ve kinda had this… thing for you lately,” he tells you quietly, a look on his face that tells you he’s worried about what you might say.

“Show me then,” you tell him, biting into your grin.

You squeal in surprise when he practically throws you onto your back and is hovering over you seconds later, a smirk stretching over his plump lips.

“Oh, I’ll show you alright,” Dean all but growls, the nervous side of him has seemingly disappeared as he kisses his way down your neck. You whimper as he sucks a mark into the skin, and drags his teeth over your collarbone, continuing to leave his marks across your body.

Dean settles between your legs and tugs them over his shoulders. You sit up, unable to stop yourself from watching. His eyes remain on yours as his thick tongue moves through your slick, the heat in his gaze makes your stomach roll, and you can’t help but moan his name desperately when his tongue circles around your clit slowly.

Your fingers thread through his hair and your breath catches in your throat when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your wet heat. It’s been ages since you’ve been with a guy, and even longer since you’d been with someone who knew what he was doing - safe to say Dean was a guy who knew what he was doing. With that perfect mouth of his, he's alternating between kitten licks and nibbling and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, and your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Dean, get up here, please, I need you inside me,” you whimper as he starts curling his fingers inside you, stroking against that spot which makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, and Dean’s groan vibrates through your pussy, causing a shiver to edge its way up your spine.

He finally relents, easing his fingers from inside you and sucking them between his lips, throwing you a wink as he pulls them free with an audible pop.

“Want my cock that bad, do ya sweetheart?” Dean chuckles, kissing and sucking at your skin as he crawls back over your body.

“Yes I do, you dork. Now get up here and fuck me.”

You giggle when he practically pounces on you, his lips immediately finding yours in a frenzied kiss. Dean shifts between your legs and you hook them over his hips as the tip of his cock nudges at your dripping entrance. Your hands grip at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, as he pulls away from your lips letting you both gasp for much needed breath.

Dean sits up on his knees, spreading them with his big hands and pulling you closer until your legs are pressed against his chest and your ass is resting on his thighs.

“Fuck, look at you sweetheart, so perfect, can’t wait to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock.” Dean groans as he pushes forward slightly, and you feel your pussy stretch around the wide head of his perfectly thick cock.

You cup your tits, feeling your nails biting at your skin as Dean pushes forward a little further, until he’s fully seated inside you. Dean grips the tops of your thighs as he starts to move, slow and calculated, his grip tightens on you when you try to rock against him.

“Fuck, Dean, more please,” you whine loudly, feeling him hitting that spot repeatedly.

“Don’t worry baby girl, you’re gonna fuckin’ come all over my cock real soon,” he rasps, turning his head to nip at your calf as his thrusts speed up, one of his hands splaying over your stomach, and you swear you can feel his cock bulging under your skin. You look up at Dean in awe, feeling that familiar feeling rising fast, your pussy fluttering and your stomach tightening.

“I can feel my cock against my hand sweetheart, so fuckin’ deep inside your sweet little cunt. You gonna come for me? Wanna watch you bounce on that cock, you gonna do that for me, baby?” Dean rasps as his thumb starts to rub at your clit.

“Oh… oh God! Dean! Fuck anything you want… I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off with a silent scream, feeling your entire body go rigid as you gasp for the breath you don’t even know if you need.

You’ve not even had time to come down from your orgasm when Dean rolls you both over, so you’re on top and he’s on his back, a cocky smirk on those perfect lips of his. You slump forward slightly with your hands on his chest, still panting hard.

“So sexy when you come for me,” Dean purrs as you start moving your hips over him, rocking back and forth.

“Love your big cock, Dean, fills me so good,” you whimper, already feeling another orgasm burning just out of sight.

Dean brings his legs up higher on the bed, so his legs are spread slightly behind you. Your nails bite at his skin when you start to rise and fall over him, feeling his thickness fill you and leave you repeatedly, quickly picking up speed. Dean cups one of your breasts and pinches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The slap of your skin against his mixes with your moans and whimpers and Dean’s grunts and groans.

“Gonna make me come, sweetheart, so fuckin’ close. Can’t wait to fuck you full baby girl, you’d like that wouldn’t you, huh? Wanna feel my come dripping from this tight little cunt? Wanna remember who made you scream like a little slut while we’re drivin’ home, don’t ya?” Dean all but growls, snapping his hips to meet yours with the end of every question. His fucking mouth and his perfect cock have you close to losing your damn mind.

“Yes Dean, please. I want it, wanna feel your cock for days. Give it to me, Dean. I need it, please, only a little slut for you,” you whimper feeling your arms shake as he pulls you flat against his chest.

His grip is unyielding as he grabs your ass tightly in those big hands of his, “gonna fuckin’ ruin you princess, ain’t nobody gonna fuck you like me.” He grunts possessively as his hips begin to slam up into you at an inhuman rate. You’re sure your heart is about to thud out of your chest, all you can hear is Dean and the blood that’s rushing through your ears.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you out of nowhere, squeezing tight around Dean’s throbbing cock. White light explodes behind your eyelids, but Dean doesn’t stop moving until you’re practically shaking on top of him, feeling his come trickling down between you.

“Fuck.” You gasp against his sweat slick chest, feeling his fingers running through your hair as he shushes you.

You’re surrounded by him in the best way, and you can feel your body beginning to calm down.

“One word for it,” he chuckles breathlessly, before finally opening his eyes and looking at you.“You okay?” he asks, voice still deep and thick with something so sexy you involuntarily shiver again as Dean rolls you both onto your sides.

“Best I’ve ever had,” you tell him honestly, watching the grin that spreads across his lips. “So, are you finally gonna quit acting weird around me?” you ask with a teasing smile.

“Probably not, sweetheart. You drive me crazy, in every way possible. Anyway, can’t be that bad if it got us here,” Dean grins, pressing a chaste kiss your lips.

“Well, I guess you got me there. You ever want another massage you know where to find me.”

“Oh, I will definitely be taking you up on that.” Dean smirks pulling you against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Now sleep, we’ve got an early start. I wanna see if we can make my memory foam remember you too.”

If you would like to be tagged in any of my taglists guys just ask! 

All Fic Tags: @chewie-redbird @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @desireepow-1986 @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @cockslut-padalecki @deanwanddamons @simsadventures  @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1

Dean/Jensen Tags: @fandom-princess-forevermore @hobby27​ @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @maddiepants​ @spnfanfic-reblogs​ @holylulusworld​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @sonofabringmesomepie​ @deans-baby-momma​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @hhiggs​ @pisces-cutie​ @trina44sb @heartsaved​ @matsumama​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @beth-winchester21​ @doctor-hp-mcu​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @fanddoms4love​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @nihilismworld​ @bxbyizzy​ @noobwuvsj2 @lyarr24​

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean​ @manawhaat​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​  @nichelle-my-belle​ @notnaturalanahi​ @deanscarlett​ @roxy-davenport​ @impala-dreamer​ @samsgoddess​ @frenchybell​ @scorpiongirl1​  @deandoesthingstome​ @deansleather​ @curliesallovertheplace​ @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname​ @waywardjoy​ @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @kayteonline​ @supernatural-jackles​ @wevegotworktodo​ @quiddy-writes​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @supermoonpanda​ @deanwinchesterforpromqueen​ @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog​ @memariana91​ @teamfreewill-imagine​ @chelsea-winchester​ @becs-bunker​ @castieltrash1​ @supernaturalyobessed​ @ruined-by-destiel​ @winchester-writes​ @evilskank-inthemegacoven​ @maraisabellegrey-blog​ @faith-in-dean​ @winchestersmolder​ @bennyyh​ @clueless-gold​ @deanwinchesterxreader​ @winchester-family-business​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @just-another-winchester​ @cas-backwards-tie​ @winecatsandpizza​ @firefly-in-darkness​

#dean winchester #spndeanbingo #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester dirty talk #Supernatural smut #supernatural one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n

[wy-van-sunshine]

wesper fanfic!

Author’s note: I have read so many fanfics in which Wylan feels different from Jesper’s world and lifestyle, somehow out of place and he’s sad about it, but since I always want to see things from other perspectives I want to write something in which Jesper is the one feeling “wrong” for the way Wylan lives his life. I really hope you’ll like this!

The stage lights shone on the beautiful flautist’s red hair, enlightening his silver flute and isolating him in the only spot of warm light in the entire theatre: the music he played was so full of harmony and peace, it was as if Wylan existed in a parallel world made of his own music and emotions.

The public was lucky enough to be allowed to observe that world from the outside, taking part in it through the celestial notes that Wylan played in the most natural way, almost as if they were an extension of his soul.

Jesper was in a private place, hidden from the rest of the people but from where he could have the best view of his boyfriend: he often mocked him about his “graceful serenades”, but whenever he played on stage he couldn’t help but admire the unique talent the merchling had and fall in love with that music not so many months ago he didn’t even care about.

Jesper smiled. In any other occasion he would have called himself an idiot for that, but now he really couldn’t do anything else but keep that peaceful expression on his face, his chin resting on his hand as he stared at Wylan on stage, his gaze filled with love and admiration.

The magic lasted forever, but it was also so brief: before anyone wanted him to, Wylan played the last notes and he finally smiled, looking at the point where he knew Jesper was and bowing to the whole public who was applauding and cheering him hard. 

Every time the redhead had a concert, the night was so difficult to end: he exited the theatre and almost everyone was waiting him there to see and talk to him. Wylan was so grateful for that, but at the same time he always met Jesper’s eyes among all people and some parts of him wanted nothing but run to him and hug him. However, he was a polite musician and he always stopped to talk with his public.

Jesper looked at Wylan’s blue, shiny eyes with pride: he was so happy everytime after a concert and the sharpshooter would have paid a million kruge to see that expression on him every second of his life. 

“Hey there, boy!” Jesper turned his head to his left and saw a middle aged couple “You are the flautist’s boyfriend, am I right?” asked the man.

“Yes, yes I am” he answered smiling “Did you enjoy the concert? I don’t know much about this world, but I really think he’s the best out there” 

The woman nodded “His music sounds so graceful! I bet he’d play some parts of Tchaikovski’s pieces like no one ever has”

“You’re right, my dear! And what about the concerts by Mozart? He would enchant the public! What do you think, boy?”

“Jesper, you can call me Jesper” said the Zemeni, then smiled, a little embarassed “I... actually, as I said before I really don’t know much about this musical world, but... well, I think Wylan would be amazing in any occasion...?”

Jesper couldn’t quite decipher the gaze the couple exchanged: they looked... disappointed in his answer, but what could he do about it? He had just been honest. Luckily, Wylan finally came and he didn’t have to think about it anymore. 

“Jes!” Wylan called with a huge smile on his lips, throwing his arms around his waist. The sharpshooter released a breath and hugged him back “You were a Saint up there” he said. 

The redhead hugged him harder, but then he felt a hand tap his shoulder and he turned his head, meeting the old man’s gaze. He smiled politely “Good evening, sir!”

The couple started talking with Wylan about the same topic they tried to discuss with Jesper, but this time they found someone who understood everything they said and the chat became more and more interesting to Wylan, more and more uncomfortable to Jesper.

He was there, trying to follow the conversation, but he got lost among weird composer’s names and numbers of concerts and operas. He could see how Wylan was loving all of that and how he was feeling comfortable, and suddenly he felt wrong. 

Music was one of Wylan’s greatest passions and what did he know about it? Bach and Mozart were names he had only heard, “Cage” was a place to be imprisoned in, “Chopin” was a funny word similar to what you did when you went to the mall. He knew absolutely nothing about it. He knew nothing about one of the most important things to his boyfriend. 

After minutes which felt like eras for Jesper, Wylan took leave of the couple and grabbed Jesper’s hand, smiling as usual “Shall we go home?”

Jesper tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. He just nodded and started walking. Their way back home was not long, but it passed in silence, Wylan thinking about the night and Jesper about how everything about himself felt wrong. Sometimes Wylan looked over the sharpshooter: he was silent and that was something to worry about, but he had no idea about what was going on in his head and he said nothing until they arrived home.

Without a word, Jesper placed a kiss on Wylan’s head and immediately reached for their bedroom, throwing himself on the bed and staring at the ceiling, his head almost in pain for his thoughts. 

About fifteen minutes later, the merchling entered the room with a smoking cup in his hand, reached the bed and sit next to Jesper’s body, looking at him. He knew he was sad or worried about something: those were the only - rare - occasions in which the Zemeni didn’t speak, even though Wylan was sure his head was screaming. Anyways, he knew in those occasions Jesper loved to dissolve his thoughts in a cup of hot cocoa, so that was exactly what he had prepared for him as soon as they got home. 

“Hey there” he said softly, placing a hand on Jesper’s shoulder “Take this”

The sharpshooter gave him a weak smile and took the cup in his hand: he sit against the wall in order to be able to drink it better. Still, he didn’t say a word.

“What’s wrong?” Wylan asked, now a little worried. Usually after the first sip of cocoa the sharpshooter started talking, but now he was silent and the redhead was silently panicking. Had he done something wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time, after all he was not perfect, in fact he was the exact opposite of perfection.

“Ioneserveu”

Wylan didn’t understand what Jesper said as he murmured with such low voice, his eyes fixed on the cocoa. 

“What? What is it?” 

The sharpshooter released a long breath and he finally looked up at his boyfriend: meeting his beautiful blue eyes made him feel even worse.

“I don’t deserve you” he said with a painful smile. 

Wylan felt a shot straight to his heart: the gray eyes that were looking at him were a storm, they were troubled, they were honest. 

“What the fuck are you saying, Jesper?” 

“There, I got you saying the f-word” 

“Stop joking. What does I don’t deserve you mean?”

“It’s a very simple Kerch sentence. I don’t feel like I’m enough for you and I don’t think I actually am”

Wylan took Jesper’s hand in his and talked with broken voice “But why? We’ve been together for almost a year now, Jes. Where is this coming from?”

Jesper huffed, he was not comfortable with that talk. He wanted to tell Wylan how he was feeling, but he wasn’t good at dealing with emotions; moreover, what if his boyfriend hadn’t noticed his differences yet? What if he was the one to point them out to him and ruin their relationship forever?

“I feel like I’m wasting your time here. These months were amazing for me, but for you? Tonight I saw how your eyes shine when you talk about music and all those composers, and I see that same joy when you explain to me your impossible equations or the way you build bombs, and I smile and I nod because I know how much that stuff means to you, but I don’t understand anything and- how long can this last? How long before you get tired of-” 

Jesper suddenly stopped: he couldn’t finish the sentence. If he said that last word out loud, the whole feeling would become real and he really didn’t want to burst into tears in front of Wylan. 

...me? How long before you get tired of me?

The sharpshooter found himself in a whole new situation: in seventeen years of life he never once thought anybody could get tired of him, he did his best to be as energetic as possible and people loved being around him. But Wylan was no ordinary boy: he was so special and he didn’t deserve someone as ordinary as Jesper felt. 

He stared at his merchling, looking for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear: but Wylan was smiling softly at him, not a sign of concern on his pale face. He got nearer to the sharpshooter and he kissed him, slowly dragging his body down with his. They were now laying next to each other, Wylan had for the first time ever Jesper’s head resting on his chest - it was always the opposite as their heights were clearly different. 

After kissing Jesper on his head, Wylan spoke in a whisper “Are you happy with me, Jes?” 

The sharpshooter was enjoing being cuddled by his boyfriend, he had calmed down a little, but he still felt like he didn’t deserve all those attentions.

“Yes Wy, I am happy. I am so happy. And because of that I’m afraid I’ll screw everything up”

“You want to know why I fell in love with you in the first place?” 

Jesper grinned “Not if then you’re going to dump me because I’ve ruined everything”

Wylan gently slapped him on the neck “I would never want to be without you, you idiot” 

“Fine then” Jesper allowed, his heart beating faster for what his boyfriend just said.

Before talking, Wylan started caressing Jesper’s dark hair “I have built bombs and explosives in my life, Jesper. And I know a lot of things about chemistry. When I met you, I felt like everything I knew about explosions was nothing compared to you. You are a living bomb, and I’m saying it with a positive meaning: you are like a constant explosion of energy, you don’t just burst once, you keep on doing it and that is the exact energy I didn’t know I needed in my life. You have no scientific explanation and I love it”

Jesper breathed heavily and Wylan thought the was holding back tears: he took his chin in his hand and he lifted his head, looking into his eyes just to find out they were actually wet. The redhead smiled at him.

“I don’t care if you don’t know things about music or maths or anything else, one boring nerd is enough in a coulple, don’t you think?” 

Jesper laughed “You’re my favourite nerd, you know”

“I should hope so! Anyways, I asked you whether you’re happy with me and there’s a reason for that: when we got togther, I had the same worries about myself. You were a charming, extroverted thief and I didn’t feel like I could fit in your world. But then one day you hugged me and I thought I feel like I fit in these arms. I understood I was happy with you, and to me that was enough. If you’re happy with me as well, then we don’t have to worry about anything else”

“Saints, you really are a poet, Van Sunshine” said Jesper with a grin, but before Wylan could reply he reached for his lips and he kissed him for long, silently thanking him for everything he said, for everything he gave him not just in that moment, but every day since they met. 

Maybe their worlds were different, but while kissing and hugging and looking for more, Wylan and Jesper couldn’t help but notice how perfect they were for each other: their lips matched, their hands coincided perfectly, their bodies completed each other. 

They were happy together and they loved each other. 

And yes, that was far more than enough. 

#wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan x jesper #six of crows #wesper fanfic

[amerrierworld]

Supposed To Be

Ocean’s 8 fanfiction

request: the reader finds out what Tammy does at party with the girls and maybe gets angry at Tammy for not telling her and lying to her. Then hets angry at everyone else and they all fell guilty. And maybe tammy says something that’s losses the reader of more. Then the reader walking out. The next morning the reader is ignoring all the texts and calls from Tammy and the girls. Tammy going over to talk to her...

Summary: Tammy is planning something for you with the team, but can’t let you know about it.

Characters: Tammy x fem!reader, the Ocean’s girls, (divorced!Tammy)

Word Count: 2,550

Warnings: Angst angst angst angst angst angst!!!!!! Miscommunication!! Hurt & comfort! Eventual happy ending :)

You first started feeling uneasy when Tammy’s text responses went from excited paragraphs and emojis to one-word answers. It was such a simple thing, but you barely got to see her in person some weeks, and this was the only thing that kept you connected.

After an inevitable divorce, Tammy moved to the city to be closer with the entire group, sharing custody of her children every other week. It had been stressful, but you had been there for her every step of the way, and a fruitful, happy romance had blossomed.

But now, even after all those months, there was a sudden barrier you couldn’t seem to get through. Her phone calls were hasty, her texts short, and no one else in the group seemed concerned like you were. You got no updates on her kids, which usually she couldn’t stop taking about. Frankly, it felt like she had gotten tired of you.

So, you shut your phone off and went out for the rest of the day, window-shopping and wandering around the city to get your fuming mind off of things. 

-

On the other side of the city, in Lou’s spacious loft, Tammy had gathered the other ladies, vigorously typing lists on her phone as she paced back and forth.

“Really, Tam, you’re overthinking this! Why do you feel the need to go through all this?” Lou sighed, swirling her glass of rye. 

“Because it has to be just right,” Tammy snapped back. 

Everyone knew how detail-oriented and perfectionist Tammy was. It was a life-saver for criminal activity and ensured safety for the gang to get through undetected. But sometimes, in ordinary life, it was a bit overkill.

“I really don’t think Y/N needs all this, babe,” Nineball added, lounging in a large, velvety bean bag and a joint between her lips. “Lou’s right, you’re overthinking it.”

“Listen, she’s my girlfriend, and this is my plan. Can you please just be a little bit supportive of this?” Tammy threw her hands up, exasperated. 

“Her birthday isn’t for another month,” Debbie pointed out.

“Exactly, I’m already running behind!”

The remaining seven shared a few bemused glances before Daphne handed Tammy a glass of wine to calm down. Debbie sighed, pulled up a chair and reached for the snack bowl.

“Alright, what’s the plan, TamTam?”

-

You still had one of Lou’s door keys from the last heist, and figured it was the best time to return it. It was starting to get late, and it was a bit of a walk, but you didn’t mind. The fresh air did good for your nerves and bad mood. 

You hadn’t seen Lou in ages either, so you figured a quick catch-up was needed too. Not even thinking, you used the key to let yourself in, washed over by warm light coming from inside, and-

Laughter? Music?

You froze. The first person you saw, of course, was Tammy. Your eyes were drawn to her in any room, always. She was laughing, nursing a drink in her hand, chatting with Lou and Debbie, who looked equally as pleased.

There was popcorn popping in the microwave, and the TV was showing a movie. Your heart sank little by little, as you realized that yes, they really had gotten tired of you. You didn’t register the pile of paper and notes on the coffee table, at all.

Lou saw you first, and went a little pale. She registered the keys in your hands were hers, and it clicked in her brain why you were there. She nudged Debbie, who immediately turned off the music, as if they’d been caught doing something illegal.

Then Tammy turned her head and saw you, her beautiful smile fading away instantly. Her mouth hung open a little, as if she didn’t know what to make of you standing there, in the flesh.

Suddenly your confusion melted into anger, and your heart broke little by little as they stood there, staring at you, not even bothering to say anything.

You tossed the keys to the floor, turned around, and slammed the front door shut. 

-

No one was moving. Tammy’s brain was lagging, still trying to register why you  looked so distraught, so betrayed. The rest of the group eyed her shyly. Constance had a mouth full of popcorn that she was afraid to chew down on because of how loud it would be in the silence.

“You fucking idiot,” Rose was the first to speak up- Tammy was shocked to hear her swear. “What’re you doing jus’ standing there? Get out and go after her!”

“Yeah,” Amita said, “she didn’t look too happy when seeing all of us.”

“Did you tell her where you would be today, Tam?” Debbie questioned her, looking her squarely in the eye. Tammy bit her lip, and shook her head. Cue a collective frustrated groan. 

“Tammy, we love you, but you can be so stupid sometimes,” Lou said, grabbing her glass from her. “Go on!”

Tammy nearly stumbled over her heels as she hurried after you, fearing she wouldn’t be able to find you in the dark.

“Y/N?” she called out, frantically looking out as the door closed behind her. She  spun around, looking left and right. “Y/N!”

“Stop yelling,” you snapped. She turned and saw you leaning against a streetlamp, face washed in eerie light. 

“You’re still here,” she said, relieved.

“No, I’m just waiting for a cab,” you said, not meeting her gaze. “You should go back to your party.”

“Do you want to come inside?” she asked you, wringing her hands.

“No, thanks,” you said, shoving your hands deep in your pockets. “I wasn’t invited, so.”

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t mean to-,”

“No, no, you clearly did,” you shook your head, interrupting her. “It’s fine, really. But next time you get sick of me, have the fucking courtesy to actually break up with me, please?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re barely answering any of my texts, and every time we talk you’re miles away. And now you’re throwing a party with the whole team, except for me. What gives?”

“It’s not what you think!”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, then? Do you even realize what the past few weeks have been like for me? Jesus, Tammy, I’ve been worried sick.”

Tammy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to lose you, she knew she couldn’t lose you, but to explain the plans and explain everything she’d prepared would ruin so, so much.

“Y/N, I love you with my entire heart. I can explain, I promise.”

“No, forget it,” a cab pulled up to the sidewalk and you yanked open the door. “Come back when you’ve made up your mind, I guess. Unless it’s something I don’t want to hear. Bye, Tammy.”

With that, the cab sped away, and you left a stunned Tammy standing on the sidewalk.

-

It was nearly two weeks later. You didn’t know how on earth you got this far without talking to Tammy at all, but you figured you made it clear where you stood. If she never talked to you again, you understood the message, and you were through.

A bit overdramatic, maybe, you wondered? If it was, you weren’t prepared to be the first one to cave. You wouldn’t go begging and crawling back to her. You were too stubborn and proud- even with the constant crying over the past few days.

You were sitting at a bar, drinking a sweet and fruity drink while watching some mindless sports game on the monitor when a familiar blonde slid into the seat next to you.

“Go away,” you said, not looking at Lou. She  waved her hand, and the bartender set to work on a drink for her.

“Good evening to you too, sweetheart,” she said. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This is my bar after all,” she received her drink and took a big gulp, leaning forward on the bar and looking over at you.

“No it isn’t,” you frowned, trying to piece your memory together. “Your club is dozens of blocks from here.”

“Yeah, and then I bought almost every bar and club on this side of the city. You’re looking at one rich-ass owner, Y/N.” Lou grinned, but you couldn’t be bothered to return the smile.

“Well, congrats Lou. No need to rub it in. Some of us are meant to just be broke.”

“Since when did you become such a downer?”

“Uh, since my girlfriend decided her life was better off without me?” you scoffed.

“Is that really what she said to you?” Lou asked, blue eyes piercing. You shifted in your seat.

“Not exactly, but I know when people are tired of me,” you muttered. “Walking in on the whole team who went through hell together having a party without me kinda sends a clear message.”

Lou chewed her lip, and sighed. She pushed the empty glass away from her and took her time to unwrap a stick of gum. 

It was quiet between the two of you as she got up and straightened her jacket, flicking her bleach blonde hair away from her eyes.

“It wasn’t a party, Y/N,” she said. “Talk to Tammy. She’s been absolute shit the past week.”

You bristled, not wanting to think about Tammy again. But Lou left you to it, paying for your drink, and headed out the door. You rubbed your face, tired, and lonely, and cursing yourself for letting it get this far. 

Hesitantly, you took out your phone, reading the ‘six new voicemails’ notification, and lingering your finger over the green listening button. All from Tammy. 

“Hey, Y/N. Giving me a taste of my own medicine, huh?” A weak laugh. “I’m sorry for not responding or talking more with you.. you have every right to be angry.”

You got up and headed home slowly, going through each voicemail carefully, listening at least twice.

“God I don’t even know where to start. It’s been so... empty without you. Please call me soon? There’s so much I want to tell you.”

Turning multiple corners, you put on your sunglasses, hoping it would hide the tears threatening to spill over. 

“I feel terrible. And the girls are mad at me for letting you get away. Not-not like you ran away, but- but not fighting for you, you know? For such a stupid, stupid reason too. I, uh, hm... I miss you.”

I miss you. You stared at your front door, listening as the voicemail ended, frozen. You were mere steps from getting inside, but there was something in the way.

Tammy looked over her shoulder, standing on your doorstep, and you nearly burst into tears all over again. She was startled just like you were, surprised to see you there.

Your arm dropped limply to your side, voicemail forgotten, and you took a shaky breath,

“I miss you too.”

-

You sat across each other awkwardly. You offered her a cup of tea, she politely declined. Tammy was carrying a large tote bag with things inside, and you were intrigued, but didn’t make any effort to start the conversation. You would remain stoic, and not cave. No matter how beautiful she looked, how rosy her cheeks were, how done up her hair was. But there were giant bags under her eyes that you could not ignore, and something pulled at your heartstrings. 

“You look well,” Tammy said, smiling weakly.

“No I don't,” you replied. Her face fell. “Neither do you.” Ouch. 

“Crazy what only two weeks can do to a person, right?” she chuckled hoarsely.

She continued, “I realize that... that I didn’t handle things very well, with how it ended.. on the sidewalk that night.”

“Hmm.”

Her fingers were shaking, and your resolve nearly crumbled. She reached into the bag and grabbed a massive binder, nearly bursting with the amount of pages. Your name was written in thick letters on the front. 

“This is why I wasn’t talking to you,” she muttered, bashfully. “And I realized that keeping this a secret from you isn’t worth the risk of losing you.. like, actually losing you and never getting to have you in my life again.”

Your mouth fell open as you turned to the first page. It was one of those massive wedding planner books that some young girls like to have when dreaming of their future wedding. 

Only it was for your birthday. Lists and lists of your favourite music, your favourite foods, restaurants, colours and clothes. Plans for venues, DJs, special outings and reservations. Plans for each member of the team to take care of little things; drinks, dances, meals, performers...

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

“It was going to be your first birthday with the two of us really together. It was supposed to be a surprise... perfect and special. I guess I went a little over the top..” she rubbed her neck with her hand and blushed.

“Tammy... oh my god,” you kept saying, with every new page, and new intricate lists and ideas. “Oh my god.”

“This is incredible,” you breathed, tears falling freely now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“No no, I should be the one apologizing,” Tammy replied firmly. “I should have told you.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise! Oh my god, I should have been more trusting in you,” you cried softly. “Tammy, oh, god. Tammy, I love you so much.”

Every detail was spot-on. She knew you inside and out, like no one else ever  knew you. No one had ever cared so deeply for you, to think so deeply for you. 

Now Tammy was crying too, and you were two blubbering messes, clasping hands across the table and spilling tears on the pages. Thankfully, they were laminated.

“I’ve scrapped it all,” Tammy confessed. 

Your head snapped up, “What?”

“Well, when I say scrapped.. I rescheduled it for next year.. I didn’t think that you would want this anymore. Not after what I did.”

“Debbie thought it a good idea to just move it to next year, in case you still wanted it, and.. well, in case you and I are still...” she cleared her throat, face red, not wanting to finish her sentence for fear of jinxing it.

You pushed your chair back and walked over to her, cupping her face and kissing her sweetly. She melted in your touch.

“Of course I’ll still want it,” you said, brushing her mouth with your lips. “I want you.”

“So-, are- are we o-okay?”  Tammy’s breath hitched with increasing sobs and you kissed her, again and again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you laughed, kissing her tears away. “I don’t want anything except you.”

“Good,” Tammy giggled, “because I don’t think I had anymore energy to finish these plans.”

“When did you start making this?”

“About a month ago.”

“Oh, Tammy, my God,” you threw your head back, understanding why she had gotten so distanced now. “You can’t possibly think all of that-” gesturing to the thick book, “would be possible to plan in just a few weeks right? Not with your perfectionist habits, at least.”

“Hey,” Tammy warned, but her eyes were twinkling. 

“Plus, I love every single detail you put in there, I swear, but I don’t need anything except you and the people we love on my birthday. Seriously.”

“Good, because that’s exactly what Lou offered after she slapped some sense into me,” Tammy confessed. “A party at her loft or one of her clubs? And then.. cake?”

“Yes!” you clapped your hands. “Our friends, and cake.”

You slid forward to sit in Tammy’s lap and pressed your warm face in her neck, kissing her there and hugging her closely.

“That’s all I need,” you murmured. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Tammy let out another sob, wrapping her arms around you tightly and kissing the side of your head, nuzzling your hair without abandon. 

A/N: A bit longer than usual but I wanted to do the lovely request justice :D Miscommunication is such a bitch... especially when it doesn’t work out, but in this fiction land it does!! We love soft!Tammy~

#tammy #tammy oceans 8 #tammy x you #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x you #sarah paulson character #wlw #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #ocean's eight #oceans8 #oceans 8 #oceans 8 fanfic #ocean's 8 #cate blanchett #Sandra bullock #fanfiction #merry writes

[thetomorrowshow]

unless you take your army back ch. 2

First chapter  -  Read on AO3!

This chapter is a lot longer than I thought it was that’s my bad

cw: blood, intense depictions of injuries, food, flashbacks

~

When Crutchie woke, it was with a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He knew that while he was not waking up from a nightmare, he would be waking into one. Another day either working hard for nothing or locked in a tiny closet, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Something was different, though. For one thing, he wasn’t quite sure where he was. He was on something soft, which couldn’t count as any surface in the Refuge. Not only that, but he didn’t feel squished or anything. There wasn’t anyone else near him, which crossed off the idea that he’d been dragged back to the room full of boys, but there was plenty of room to stretch out, so definitely not in a closet.

Maybe he had died.

As he became more aware of his body, though, he still felt pained--so probably not dead. He used to visit a church when he’d been on the streets by himself, less for concern of his mortal soul and more for the communion wafers and occasional Sunday afternoon luncheons, but he’d listened to what had been taught there. Apparently, if he died and went to Heaven he’d be healed. He had to be going to Heaven, right? He’d been baptized as a baby, after all. He didn’t really believe in it these days, but that didn’t mean he was a bad person.

He would’ve continued wondering about the fate of his soul had he not tried to flex his fingers and found both hands immobile--not because of the pain in them, but because his fingers were all wrapped up. So was his left arm, actually, which was distantly throbbing.

Reluctantly, Crutchie forced his eyes to open, grimacing at how crusty they felt. Light flooded his vision and he closed them almost immediately, then opened them a pinch.

He had no clue where he was. All he could see was a wooden ceiling. How was that supposed to help him?

It smelled sort of familiar, but it was also silent, aside from a bird chirping outside the window--which was right beside him. Actually, as he took a bigger breath (not too big, his chest was all tight and achy), he recognized something small--and then so many things, all in the scent of the air.

This was the lodging house, and with it, the smell of the soap they all used, Race’s cigar, newspapers, coffee, sweat, and that weird cologne that Jack and Romeo sometimes spent a few pennies on. He was home.

Crutchie let out a sigh. He was exhausted. Maybe he could just go back to sleep.

“Crutchie?”

So much for that idea. Crutchie shifted his vision a little, wincing as his neck cramped. Jack was sat there beside him, charcoal pencil frozen where it was poised on a paper. He looked okay, aside from a black eye. He also looked scared, for some reason, almost guilty. What had happened? Why was Crutchie at the lodging house? Why did Jack look like he was hiding something?

Crutchie decided to not bring it up at the moment, but couldn’t stop wondering. He didn’t remember all of what had happened since he’d been awoken the other morning by the Refuge kids with a cup of water, but he had vague recollections of beatings and closets and being trapped under the floor. He could also remember seeing Katherine, but that part might have been a hallucination. More importantly, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here and what had made Snyder let him go. If Jack had traded someone--

“How’re ya feeling?” Jack asked, and Crutchie could hear his words dripping with fatigue. He wondered how long he’d been out, that Jack had been sitting at his side for.

Crutchie opened his mouth, lips cracking, and paused at the pain that came when he tried to make his voice work. Something was up--Synder, chokin’ you, his brain reminded him. Also no water, dummy. They does that to a voice.

As if Jack knew what he was thinking, he shot up, the paper falling and pencil rolling away. “Gotcha some water waitin’,” he said, taking a few steps out of Crutchie’s line of sight and returning with a tin cup and a bowl. “Also had one o’ the fellas grab some soup from the sistas, so you can has somethin’ ta eat.” He frowned down at the bowl. “It ain’t too warm now, but it should still taste all right.”

Crutchie had the feeling that he ought to smile in thanks, but just couldn’t. He couldn’t even fathom lifting his cheeks that much--they felt oddly large and heavy. His head was pretty cloudy, anyway. It probably wouldn’t even be able to send the instructions to his mouth. Jack held the cup to his lips and he drank--the water was a bit warm, but far better than nothing--begrudgingly, wishing he could hold it himself.

As soon as all the water was gone, Jack was digging a spoon out of his pocket, preparing to feed him. If he had the energy, Crutchie would’ve sputtered in indignation. He could feed himself, thank you very much! He hadn’t let no one feed him except his mother, and that was too long ago for him to remember (he casually shoved down the image of Harley feeding him bites of sandwich, back at the Refuge).

“I can feeds myself,” he croaked out, feeling just that small movement of his mouth stretch his cheeks farther than normal. They must’ve been pretty swollen. Some of the anxious creases around Jack's eyes smoothed out.

“I know ya can,” Jack said, relief evident in his voice. “Lemme help ya sit up, then.”

Crutchie wanted to sit up himself, but he conceded this to Jack. He had to pick his battles, especially when he was so tired.

He gasped when Jack buried his arm under his back, the lashes and memories of them barraging him with agony. Jack pulled away as if he was the one who had been whipped, watching him warily. Crutchie scrunched his eyes closed, trying to stop a tear that was threatening to slip out. He wasn’t weak. He had to show Jack that he could do this.

“Want--want me to, uh, pull ya up by the arm?” Jack offered, and Crutchie nodded jerkily. That sounded bearable; his right arm wasn’t hurt all that bad.

As soon as Jack touched him, though, fear stole Crutchie’s breath. Images of thugs gripping his wrist and dragging him along on dirty floors filled his mind, and he cowered, pulling his body as close together as he could.

Someone was speaking, and Crutchie was about to ignore it until he realized the price he might pay for not following orders. His eyes shot open, his heart racing with a frenzy that seemed to pound on his broken ribs.

“--okay? Kath said your ribs got beat pretty bad, an’ it might be hard for you ta sit up. You good, Crutch?”

That was Jack. That was Jack speaking, and he wasn’t in the Refuge, he was at the lodging house. He just sat up to eat some soup. He was safe.

No matter how many times Crutchie repeated those words to himself, he couldn’t let go of the dark halls of the Refuge, the stink of the guards’ cigars, the pain that was coming at any moment.

“I’s fine,” he gritted out, forcing himself to meet Jack’s eyes. “Jus’, yeah, little bit o’ pain.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so just let it hang in the air between them.

Eventually, Jack helped him form his right hand around the bowl as steady as possible, then stabilized it as he brought it to his lips and drank. It bumped against his cheeks uncomfortably. It was little more than broth, and lukewarm, but Crutchie was grateful for it all the same. The taste of it alone nearly made him sob--the flavor was just so much--but he held it in.

Jack made him drink over half of the bowl before letting him lay back down, which was a much quicker operation than sitting up had been. When he was settled back in the bed, full to bursting and a little more clear on what was happening, he finally asked one of the questions that had been on his mind since he woke.

“Jack? What happened?”

Jack shifted from foot to foot. “With what?”

Crutchie sighed, pulling down his shirt a little to see what was under it. A lot of bandages and some bruises was the answer. “The strike, I s’pose.”

“Right, the strike.” Jack sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “Uh, well, we won.”

Crutchie’s heart leaped. They won? Against Pulitzer, and Wiesel, and the Delanceys, and Snyder, and all the police officers? Once again, he felt that he should smile, but just couldn’t find the energy. “Wow,” he said instead, swallowing around the pain in his throat. They had won. “How’d you get me out?”

There wasn’t an answer from Jack for a long time, and after a moment Crutchie looked over at him. He was looking down, cap in his hands, twisting it around anxiously.

“Governor Roosevelt,” he said, not looking up. His voice was unreadable. “Kath got him ta shut down the Refuge, for good. Ain’t nobody goin’ back there.”

Wow. They really won. How had that even happened? Crutchie couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that there would be no more Snyder chasing kids on the street. There had to be someone, right? Someone else who wanted to hurt kids for the fun of it?

“Y-you awake, buddy?”

Crutchie blinked, realizing his eyes had closed. “Yeah,” he whispered. Jack was watching him again, his eyes red. “Jus’ . . . jus’ tired.” And he was. He felt like if he didn’t sleep soon, he might just fade away. Even now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for a week straight. He was so tired.

“Sleep, nitwit. Ya gots the time.”

Crutchie gladly accepted the invitation.

-

“Shh! Ya don’t want ‘im wakin’ up, do ya?”

“A little bit, yeah!”

“We wants to see ‘im!”

Crutchie groaned. The voices quieted down for a second with a few hushed gasps and shushes, then started up again when he made no effort to move. This bed was almost unbearably comfortable.

“C’mon, Jack! He’s practic’ly a’ready awake.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t. He’s restin’, he don’t need you lot tirin’ him out.”

“It’s our room too.”

“Yeah! You has to let us in, who put you in charge?”

“. . . You’s all did, Romeo.”

Crutchie snorted through his nose, then opened his eyes. He still felt bone tired, but a little like he could function. He turned his head, slowly this time, to see Jack a few feet away, holding back a good dozen newsies. Once they saw him moving, their faces lit up excitedly. Elmer pointed, hopping a little bit, and Jack looked over his shoulder to meet Crutchie’s eyes.

Immediately, he dropped his defenses and rushed to Crutchie’s side. He produced a tin cup from nowhere--and a different one from earlier?--and pushed it to his lips. “Hey, Crutch. How ya feelin’?”

Crutchie sipped and rolled his eyes, coughing a little when that sent a headache pounding. “Bit better,” he managed through his swollen jaw, pulling away from the drink. “Why’s my arm not workin’?”

Jack’s face flashed guiltily. “‘S broken,” he said, brushing hair out of Crutchie’s face. “Katherine said you’ll be wrapped up in it about three weeks, maybe more.”

Crutchie frowned. How was he supposed to sell? His right arm needed to hold his crutch, so what was supposed to be waving around the papers? His thoughts were interrupted by Jack making him drink some more water.

“I gots more food here, for ya,” Jack began. “Don’t want ya goin’ hungry. And then--”

“Jack?”

Jack went silent instantly, looking so intensely at Crutchie that he started to wonder if Jack thought he was dying. Maybe he was dying. He certainly felt like it. He shook himself. “Can I see the fellas?”

Jack turned around. The newsies, still standing in the middle of the room, waved.

“Yeah, why not,” he said, pulling his hat off and running a hand through his hair. “One at a time, though,” he added when they all began to rush forward. “You’s gonna give him a heart attack, all o’ you’s at once.”, during which Crutchie propped himself up into almost a sitting position. His bad leg was almost completely deadweight, and it hurt like he’d stuck it in a bonfire. Still, he dragged it up a little bit, trying to make room for another boy to sit on the bed. Breathing sitting up made his chest burn and back smart, but he could deal with it for right now. He just wanted to see his friends.

Specs sat down first, smiling in that gentle way of his. “Hey, Crutch,” he said. “Lookin’ a bit worse than last time I seen ya, huh? Feelin’ any better?”

“Jus’ a bit, and okay, I guess,” Crutchie admitted, once again finding smiling to be too much effort. “Jack says we won, I think. How’s it feel?”

Specs sighed happily. “Feels free. Can’t wait to get ya outta bed and into the streets, see how ‘cited the boys are ‘bout sellin’.”

“Me neither,” Crutchie said. Specs nodded, then patted him awkwardly on the knee before standing up. He was almost immediately replaced by Race and Albert, Race falling onto the bed with flourish, Albert standing beside it with his thumbs in his suspenders.

“Feelin’ any better, Crutchie?” Albert asked. Crutchie waved his arm.

“Loads,” he said, trying to not make any sounds as Race jostled him. “Bet I’ll be up sellin’ papes with you’s in no time.”

Albert guffawed; Race smiled a little piteously. “Glad to see that Crutchie spirit,” Race said, poking him in the side. Crutchie couldn’t help a gasp, bit his tongue too late to hide it. The smile completely dropped from both of their faces.

“Hey, uh,” Albert said, quieter than usual, “Race an’ I--we’s been there. Well, not there ‘xactly, but . . . that place. So we knows it’s hard to get better, an’ it takes time.”

They really didn’t know, Crutchie thought to himself as they stepped away. They didn’t have a public connection to Jack Kelly when they were in there, nor did they have a crippled leg. He was sure it was rough for them, but their experiences were not the same, and he didn’t much appreciate them comparing the two.

“Hey Crutchie! Feelin’ any better?” Elmer.

“I’d feel better if people would stop askin’ me that,” Crutchie grumbled. Elmer laughed, his eyes lighting up.

“Les an’ Davey an’ me made you this,” he said, holding something out. He dropped it in Crutchie’s lap, who stiffly picked it up with bandaged fingers and examined it closely. It was a loop of yarns, braided together in blue, green, and brown to make a bracelet.

“You don’t gotta put it on your wrist now,” Elmer said, obviously proud. “But we all made it! You can sees where I started braidin’ after Les, ‘cuz it gets better there.”

Crutchie felt tears pricking at his eyes as he looked, and yep--there was a section where it went from messy to a little less so. “Thanks, Elmer. I’m . . . I’m touched.” he glanced up into his face, seeing it split into a huge smile. “You wanna put it on my wrist? My fingers ain’t workin’ so well.”

Elmer did so with care, not even hopping back when Crutchie flinched at the touch. Then he gave a little bow and a wave, and darted off.

Next up were Romeo and Henry, who awkwardly told him about their day and asked about his. Seeing as how Crutchie had been unconscious for the majority of the day, there wasn’t much conversation to be made on his end. It was nice to hear about what they’d been doing, though. Crutchie could usually see Romeo from his selling spot, and they sometimes sold together.

“Some o’ the regulars is askin’ after you,” Romeo told him with a pat on the shoulder. Crutchie didn’t have the energy to hide his wince. “Told ‘em they oughtta be proud o’ you, you took on the Delanceys and won!”

Crutchie choked. “I ain’t done anything of the sort!” he sputtered. Romeo chuckled.

“I’m a newsie, what can I say?” he shrugged and patted his shoulder again, then wandered off with a bit of a dazed look on his face. Henry gave him a quick goodbye and followed.

Tommy Boy was just saying hello when Jack began to usher them out, saying something about how they needed to go run off their energy somewhere not here. For once, Crutchie was grateful for Jack’s motherhenning. He felt like he was going to shake right out of his body. The newsies were a tactile bunch, and normally Crutchie had no problem with that, but today it made his skin crawl and his brain go bleary. He’d also never been troubled by crowds of any size, but the room was beginning to feel unbearably full and loud.

When he looked up again, everyone but Jack was gone--and Katherine? When had she come in?

Not another person, Crutchie thought, then immediately felt bad. Jack had mentioned her a few times, and he inferred that she was sort of the person who got him out. He could have the civility to talk to her.

“Crutchie, how are you feeling?” Katherine asked, hurrying over. Crutchie bit his tongue to keep from responding rudely.

Katherine looked him over, the smile in her words slowly fading as she took him in. Finally, she met his eyes, and nodded. “Jack was right, you’re looking a lot better than yesterday.”

“Thanks, I think?” Crutchie said, something catching in his sore throat and causing him to cough violently. His chest seized up, his body wracked with agony at the pain that came from the shuddering coughs. When he recovered enough to open his eyes, Jack was holding the cup of water right under his nose.

���Don’ be gettin’ sick on me, Crutchie,” Jack said, sounding more worried than teasing. Crutchie swallowed down the last of the water and coughed one more time.

“I’s gettin’ sick just ta spite you, now,” Crutchie said weakly. Katherine and Jack both laughed, a little wildly, a little wrong. That bothered him, in ways that he couldn’t quite put together. Why didn’t they sound normal?

Something in the smell of the room was starting to make him feel sick. Had he eaten anything since the scraps that one morning? He had, hadn’t he? Jack had given him something earlier. Well, at least he knew there was something in his stomach to be tossed up if it came to that. That had to be easier on his throat than dry heaves.

“Crutchie, you heard that the Refuge has been shut down for good, haven’t you?” asked Katherine, trying to find somewhere to pat him kindly. She settled on the edge of the mattress.

Wait, what?

The Refuge? Shut down--for good? That wasn’t possible, was it? Snyder had a perfect reputation with the city. They’d never shut down a place that worked so well because a few teenage boys told them to.

“It what?” he said out loud, looking between Jack and Katherine, hoping to see some sign of humor. They had to be pulling his leg. Katherine only nodded, though, and Jack gave him a concerned glance.

“I told ya that already,” Jack said. “Remember? This mornin’?”

Crutchie thought back. Maybe? He remembered pieces of their conversation, but it was pretty blurry. He also remembered seeing a lizard crawl up the windowpane. He’d assumed it was a dream, but maybe it had actually happened. That was pretty cool.

“Anyway, I showed Governor Roosevelt some of Jack’s drawings,” Katherine pushed on. “He investigated it immediately, and went personally to shut it down and arrest that awful man!”

“The governor,” Crutchie repeated, dumbfounded. Jack had ridden in the back of his carriage once. Had he met the governor and not even been conscious?

Now that he thought about it, though, he had vague flashes . . . a man with a mustache saying something to someone out of sight . . . the same man holding water for him to drink . . . had he met the governor and let the man baby him?

“The doctor said he doesn’t know what your recovery will look like, but he thinks you’ll make a full one if nothing gets infected,” Katherine told him, and Crutchie was torn from his mortification to incredulation.

“A doctor?” He couldn’t afford a doctor! He didn’t even have enough money saved to miss more than a few days of work, how would he--

“Don’t worry,” Katherine said, waving him off with a little laugh, “Governor Roosevelt handled the cost. You were concerned about it when it happened, too.”

Crutchie made himself relax a little bit. He couldn’t turn down a free handout in his condition, especially not from the governor. The governor.

“And, speaking of. . . .” Katherine trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Jack took her hand and gave her a strained smile. Crutchie looked at the two of them. Were they together?! Why had no one told him?

“I sort of need to change your bandages,” Katherine said apologetically. Crutchie blanched, and she hurried to add, “It’ll be quick! Just clean wrappings--” she waved a bag-- “and some soap and water, then you can rest.”

Yeah, sure, but there was a huge problem. Katherine was a girl. It wasn’t that she was weak for being a girl or anything, but Crutchie really didn’t want to subject a lady to the mess that was his body right now. Or anyone, for that matter. In fact, if they could both just leave the room and give him the bandages and stinging stuff, he’d get it done himself.

When he tried to tell Katherine just that, she snorted. “Crutchie, no offense, but I don’t think you could beat a toddler with pneumonia in a fight right now. There’s no way you could do this yourself, or any way you could stop me or one of the others doing it for you.”

Crutchie’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t stop them. She was right. They could do anything they wanted to him, and he was powerless to do anything. They wouldn’t even need to hold him down.

Crutchie only nodded when she asked him if she could change his bandages, his throat completely dry. Jack watched him for a moment, and Crutchie tried to not look back. He didn’t want Jack to see how petrified he was. After a moment, Jack made up some nonsense excuse about checking on the other boys and left.

Left to get them, probably. Or maybe something to hit him with. Or both. After all, he was a pretty easy target right about now, who wouldn’t want a go? He could barely move, let alone fight back. Crutchie’s stomach turned as an image of Race taking bets on how long he’d be conscious forced itself into his head.

“Can you sit up all the way, Crutchie?” Katherine asked, and he cringed. They were going to make him sit up? Were they going to make him move from this bed, too? It was Jack’s, he’d realized earlier. Jack probably wanted it back.

He pushed himself up, slowly, agonizingly. His head pounded and his back throbbed and his stomach wouldn’t stop sloshing around the water in it, but he sat up anyway, slowly adjusting so that his legs hung off the bed. By the time he was fully sitting up (hunching over like he wanted to made it harder to breathe) Crutchie had broken a light sweat, his hair sticking a little to the back of his neck. Katherine wouldn’t hurt him, right? She was a girl, and she was upper-class. They made other people do that for them.

“I’m going to start with this cut on your cheek, okay? It looks like it’s fine, I just want to make sure it’s clean.”

Crutchie braced himself, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep for a little bit longer. Couldn’t it go back to Jack softly giving him water and drawing while he dozed? That was nice. That was safe. Couldn’t they do that for just a little bit longer before they got to all the bad stuff?

Katherine’s touch on his face made him flinch back, but that was all it was. A touch. A piece of wet cloth, rubbed on his cheek. It wasn’t too bad, so far. It was almost a little nice.

“Your forehead’s pretty warm,” he heard her say, distantly. He didn’t respond. It was taking all his effort to stay still and upright.

Crutchie tried to retreat to the back of his mind as he felt Katherine undoing the buttons on his shirt, but he couldn’t get out of here. He was straining his ears to hear something, anything--the boys bounding upstairs, or cheering, or something like that that would give him time to prepare for what was to come.

He was broken out of it, though, when his already aching chest burst into flames. He cried out, opened his eyes--Katherine was holding a red-stained cloth, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but one of your cuts is infected. It’s going to hurt a bit. Do you think you can focus on me?”

Crutchie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t busy taking as shallow breaths as possible. He could barely focus on anything. He looked down to see the patchwork of bruises and scrapes that was his chest, and saw that yes, the largest one looked irritated and weepy. That one had been giving him trouble from the first day.

Something touched his hand and he started, then stared down at it. Katherine was holding his hand. Why?

“We can wait until you’re ready,” she said, and Crutchie wasn’t sure that he would ever be ready, but nodded as a go-ahead.

He watched now as Katherine gently and carefully cleaned each wound, calming more with each reassuring squeeze of her hand when the liquid stung. Something about her hand in his was comforting, almost grounding. It was as if his perception had been blurred with panic, and her hand cleared the mist enough that he could ground himself against the contact and the quiet openness of the room. He was alive.

Instead of making him move, Katherine climbed over the bed in a very unladylike manner and dressed the marks on his back. This was worse. With no one to hold onto and no way to see what was happening, Crutchie dug the sore fingers of his right hand into his left upper arm. It gave him a sensation to focus on that wasn’t the painful touches on his back, something that he could control. That helped, a little bit. What didn’t help was the fact that Crutchie couldn’t stop staring at the door, waiting for it to burst open at any minute.

Katherine wrapped his torso and helped him get his shirt back on before moving down to his legs, which made Crutchie even more uncomfortable. He tried to shift away, even told her he could do this part, despite knowing full well that he was about two minutes from passing out. She was a lady, it was improper.

Katherine was sympathetic. “I can go get Jack,” she offered. “Or one of the other boys, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

No. No no no no no no no. Couldn’t they do this for a little while longer first? Just Katherine holding his hand and cleaning his chest. She seemed to see his panic, because she immediately softened.

“How about this,” she said. “I’ll only do from the knees down, and then I’ll turn around while you clean the rest, okay?” Crutchie nodded. That sounded okay. Embarrassing, of course, but so much better than the alternative.

Katherine pulled one of the blankets from where it was tucked in and draped it over his legs. With her steadying him, Crutchie managed to get his pants down to his ankles, then let her take over, his face burning. She was a girl, after all. It felt so wrong, to let her clean his legs.

She made quick work of it though, and handed Crutchie the brown bottle of what seemed to be soapy water and the cloth before turning around. He watched her for a moment, making sure she wasn’t going to peek, then quickly yet haltingly rubbed the cloth along his thighs. There luckily was nothing more than bruises and a single cut there, and he was done in a few minutes. By that point, he could barely hold his head up. Instead of pulling his pants back on, he just fell back against the bed, groaning.

Katherine tucked him back in, resting a hand on his forehead again. “Do you think you have a fever?”

That would make a bit of sense, wouldn’t it? It was the middle of summer, it had to be sweltering out, and here he was under three blankets with the window closed. He was sure he had other symptoms too, but he didn’t really remember, so he just shrugged and closed his eyes.

Katherine sighed, rubbing his fingers. “Crutchie, I need you to stay awake for a few minutes. Jack’s bringing you something to eat.”

Crutchie forced his eyes back open. He didn’t want to be awake. He’d been tired this whole time and now his body felt like it was going to fall apart. As if summoned, though, the door at the other end of the room creaked open, and in came Jack, holding a bowl in one hand and some bread in the other.

“I sent Sniper down ta Jacobi’s,” he said by way of introduction. Crutchie tried to move his arms, but they felt weighed down. He didn’t really want to eat, he wanted to sleep. He really wanted to sleep, actually, so badly that he felt his eyes begin to burn with tears. Why weren’t they letting him sleep?

There was bread in front of him and Crutchie stared at it uncomprehendingly. What was he supposed to do with that? He couldn’t take it, his arms weren’t moving. 

He blinked and it had been replaced by a bowl of something, which gradually came closer as he watched. Someone wormed a hand underneath his neck to prop his head up, making him shiver and twitch. He didn’t like that at all, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe now they were going to beat him. At least he’d probably be too out of it to notice.

The bowl pressed against his lips and Crutchie opened his mouth, choking as some of its liquid slipped down his throat. That was far more warm than he’d been expecting, not quite searing his tongue, but coming close to it. It drew back again, then more spilled into his mouth. This time, Crutchie drank, paying no mind to the flavor or temperature. He just hoped they would let him sleep after this.

Sure enough, with a few last drops of broth, the bowl was empty and the hand under his neck pulled away, leaving Crutchie to fall back against the pillow. Before his eyes were even closed, he was pulled into darkness.

#newsies #newsies live #livesies #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #crutchie morris #jack kelly #katherine plumber #OK SO CAN WE TALK ABOUT ELMER #he is like 10 or 11 in this fic!!!! #he's so adorable #he maDE a frienDSHIP BRACELET #davey had to go home early otherwise he and les would be there too #i love these boys so much #this is queued again btw #so chapter 2 isn't up on ao3 quite yet #we'll see when it's up #hopefully later tonight but like it could be tomorrow morning #anyways let me know what y'all think! #love you guys

[alittleoptimistic]

The Number Six and Other Curses

A Gravity Falls fan fic (a reincarnation AU)

Summary: Though no one knew it, Dipper Pines was born at the exact moment Ford Pines died somewhere in the multi-verse. Twelve years later, Dipper and Mabel’s summer trip to Gravity Falls sparks a flurry of intense nightmares and memories Dipper could not possibly have. Surely, it’s all a coincidence.

________________________________________________________________

Chapter One:  Dreams and Premonitions

Stanley Pines put little stock in religion or fate or all that jazz. He knew a few too many con artists and watched the wheels of injustice and felt lonely maybe a few too many times to believe in God, but he, with the sort of sad wistfulness that colored much of Stanley, sometimes he wished he did. August 31st, 1999, was one of those nights when he was weak.

He pounded up crumbling, damp dirt, a horrid terror gripping his chest like a tentacled beast. He slipped and clawed toward a gleaming red light. A book poked at his ribs and he considered opening it one last time if only to feel okay for a second longer, but the dirt poured thicker, faster, and he couldn’t risk stopping. Heart pounding, he struggled ever upward toward the gleaming red light veiled in mist, but it was too much and he was too tired and they were going to catch up to him! To think, after all this time, this got him. The dirt stuck to his thighs, up to his chest. He clawed upward, desperate to touch the red light, and the dirt clogged his throat, his nostrils, his lungs, with the wretched stench of wet earth. He screamed as it forced him to shut his eyes. It wasn’t fair! He wasn’t done! The weight of it all squeezed him, an ungodly weight, the pain beyond imagination.

Then Stanley was looking down at himself. No, not himself. He flew into the sky, away from wet, grey dirt in all directions, and into the red light, brighter and brighter. The dirt settled, leaving no sign of disturbance. That wasn't quite true. A six-fingered hand reached up out of the earth like a stripped sapling.

No. Nononono! A high-pitched ring rushed through Stanley.

At exactly six AM, Stanley Pines leaped up from the threadbare armchair in his cabin in the woods, scrambling, coughing, choking for breath, and if he was crying, he didn’t notice. “It’s a nightmare,” he heaved. “Jus’ a messed up dream.” He’d had many nightmares like it before. Well, never as vivid or as doomed as that one, but… it happened, sure. Dear lord, he could still feel the weight of that awful dirt on his chest. He could taste it. And then, because he couldn’t stop himself and he was alone, Stan slid to the mat covering the wooden floors and stayed there, eyes blank. The TV blared a M*A*S*H* rerun. It cast green and brown light over the furniture, a wall-mounted rabbit/skunk he glued himself, and Stan’s tightly clenched fists. He breathed in and scrubbed his eyes with the bases of his palms. “Good grief,” he muttered.

It was then that he registered the ringing phone in the kitchen. He considered letting it go. It was six AM, after all. Who the heck was calling him in the night (morning?) anyway? Why did Stan even have a phone? Who had the number? Why six am? Why did this have to happen? What was he forgetting? If he answered the phone and someone told him they had a very special deal for him, he was going to tear the dang thing out of the wall.

Stan struggled to his feet, cracked his back, shuttered, and shuffled in his slippers to the kitchen.

“Stan Pines here, whaddaya want?”

“Uncle Stan! It- it’s happened! Oh my goodness, I can’t even think!”

Stan pulled the phone from his ear. “David? Is that you?” It all came rushing back. Oh! Right! That’s why Stan fell asleep down here in the first place! David’s girlfriend was in labor! “Ey! Congratulations, kid! What’re you gonna name it?”

“Them, rather!” David sounded a little shell-shocked. Giddy, but definitely glazed.

“‘M sorry?”

“Twins, Stan. A girl and a boy!”

Stan blinked. A rather horrible feeling washed over him, a horrible, unfair, selfish feeling. “T-twins? You weren’t expecting twins!”

“No, the doctors are baffled! I’m just- I mean, I’m completely overwhelmed, don’t get me wrong,  we did not prepare for two babies! We only have stuff for our little Mabel and now there’s a boy too! But it’s like, the more the merrier, right? “ He laughed, breathless, “Two kids, Stan! Oh my gosh, how on earth am I supposed to take care of… you know what, I’ll think about that later.”

Stan cleared his throat. “That’s fantastic, Dave!” and he was earnest, really. He couldn’t be happier for his nephew. Even if he and his girlfriend were… quite young. She was older, he believed. Nineteen, maybe?

“Guess twins must run in the family, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“Say, I just got off the phone with Dad. He’s comin’ in with Carrie tomorrow. I know you said you were busy with the Mystery Shack and all…”

The request went unsaid, but Stan knew what David wanted to say. He rubbed the back of his neck. He avoided his family. It was bad enough taking Stanford’s name. He’d rather impersonate him as little as he had too. Luckily for his nephew, David had never known the original Stanford, so it was easier to just be himself around him. He’d planned on sitting this out. He didn’t even know David’s girlfriend- couldn’t for the life of him remember her name. But… the idea of staying in this cabin alone for a minute longer made his head spin. The dream was like a vulture circling around him, and Stan knew, deep in his gut, something he never allowed himself to truly consider. If he ever got that damn portal to work, he would rescue something to lie to rest. His thumb shook on his lip as he pushed the feeling down.

“... I can spare a few days.”

“I don’t want to pressure you-”

“You ain’t pressuring me! I’m coming and you can’t stop me! Twins! Ha! I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? ! Don’t do anything rash, Stan! You don’t have to-”

Stan cackled. “See ya, kid! Rest while you can!”

“... Alright, Uncle Stan. ”

Stan slammed the phone onto the receiver and swallowed. He caught his fussy reflection in the dark kitchen window. He forced a grin, more of a grimace, and patted his disheveled hair. He refused to- No, He didn’t know for certain. “Twins, Ford,” he whispered. “Can you believe it?” His reflection’s eyes grew misty.

Yeah. It was time to get out of this cabin.

________________________________________________________________

   David hated working late, but it happened more and more often. Joe needed help, and he was the only mechanic who was actually half good at his job (if he said so himself) and David needed the money. He’d been right to go to trade school as soon as he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He was sixteen and a half and that was… well, it sucked, but it was sort of ‘par with the course for the Pine’s family.’  That’s what his dad’s wife said, anyway. He learned later his dad didn’t talk to her for three days after that comment. He did not blame him in the slightest. He didn’t hate Carrie or anything, she just wasn’t his mom and, as such, would... never measure up. She was also an incredible pain in the neck, but that's beside the point. It was a running joke that his dad had snagged a cougar for her money, which had been hilarious until Carrie shrugged airily at the suggestion and his dad turned beet red at the kitchen table, and David suddenly had the thought that oh gosh maybe the joke was- nope. Not going there. He had other things to focus on.

Like his kids and his hot wife and their tiny apartment that she’d turned into something homey and good. It smelled like tacos today. His keys rattled as he set them on the counter and hung up his jacket.

“DADDY!!” came a shrill shriek from the other room, followed by a pitter-patter of feet. A ball of pink giggled madly. He threw her in the air. “Wook, Dad!” She held up a paper… reindeer? Was that what it was supposed to be? “It’s for the chee!”

“For the tree?”

“Yes!! Cissmas chee!”

“You make that in school? I… like all the eyeballs, baby. That’s a lot of eyeballs.”

The kitchen was smoking, and he could hear Anna banging pans. “Mason, four forks! We’re setting the table, remember? Buddy, you can’t carry the- oh dear.”

   Mabel balancing on his feet, David walked through the little living room and into an even smaller kitchen. We’re going to need a bigger house, eventually.

“Hey, honey.”

Anna turned around, Mason halfway picked up, a bundle of cups and forks somehow grasped in the other hand. She pushed a strand of loose brown hair behind her ear with the back of her hand. She was in her scrubs. “You’re home! Dave, it’s almost seven thirty!” Mason squirmed out of her hands and quietly took the cups and forks. He struggled for a moment before sticking the forks into the cups, and then, problem solved, lit up and set the cups and forks on the table. As usual, David was… not getting even a hello from his son.

“Joe had me stay late.”

Anna scoffed, throwing taco meat onto plates and stuffing a taco into her mouth. “e’ can kiss my ah’” She swallowed. “Mabel, we’re going to sit down. It’s tacos!”

“Tacos!” Mabel squealed. “I LOVE tacos!”

“I know, baby. Come on, come on.” She ushered her to the table where Mason was already sitting on his booster seat, attempting to pour himself a cup of grape juice. David joined them, swinging Mabel up into her seat.

“Hey!” Anna yelped, grabbing the bottle of grape juice as it wavered above Mason’s cup. “I said you have to ask!”

“I can pour it myself, Mom!”

“You really can’t, bud,” David volunteered. He got himself a taco and took a bite while scooping meat into Mabel’s tortilla. “‘member what happened in the car seat?”

Mason scowled. But he took the poured cup of juice and accepted the kiss on his forehead by his mother. Mabel hugged her mom around the neck, gushing a very enthused, “Good job for at school, mommy.”

“Thank you, baby.” Anna finally caught David’s eye. Her shoulders relaxed, just slightly, and she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Love you, babe.” And then into his ear. “Wait up for me.” She squeezed his arm.

Oh, David would.

“And... I’m-” She glimpsed the kitchen clock. Her eyes went wide. “I’m late! I’m late!” She scrambled away. “I love you all! David, don’t forget to load and start the dishwasher! Mason can help!”

“Got it!”

The door opened.

“And their homework! They have… why do they give preschoolers homework- They have homework! Mabel still has to finish-”

“I’ve got it!” David called after her. He leaned forward in the chair to see her through the kitchen. “We’re good! Go!”

She smiled, hastily. And… just like that, she left.

For all of three seconds, the house was silent.

Mabel made a popping noise with her spoon and Mason blinked at her before picking up his own spoon and considering it.

“Okay, okay, let’s not- let’s use the silverware for food, guys.”

Mabel set down the spoon and stabbed the taco. “I’m using my fork for my food!” Mabel said with a grin that revealed the gap in her two front teeth.

“Thank you, I see that.”

“I always use my fork,” came Mason’s inevitable, irritable reply. This was rather typical. He’d probably need to have another talk with him soon. Sometimes they took it for granted that Mason was more… competent than his sister. Not unusually so. He was still a four-year-old. But he could read and he spoke clearer, and he just picked up on more than Mabel did. Maybe it was because he was quiet. He was definitely the microphone to Mabel’s loudspeaker. The two of them were fascinating to watch, if David was honest. It blew his mind sometimes. They were growing into their own little people with their own personalities and quirks. Wild.

Dinner went like it usually did, with Mabel finishing everything and Mason picking through his taco like he was checking it for poison. They cleaned up, and Mason showed David very seriously how his mom liked the dishes in the dishwasher. “No, Dad. You gotta line up the bowls. Like this , see?” David humored him because it made the kid happy.

After dinner, they decided that coloring was a good idea. Mabel needed to finish her homework, and it got finished eventually, though it was a little sparkly.

Mason determinedly drew in the ‘blank coloring book’ (as Mabel said) that he liked. He was an anxious kid, and they’d discovered early on it was easier for him to draw pictures than say out loud what was bothering him. David didn’t have any reason to think they upset Mason, but he had a blue crayon in his fist and his tongue out the edge of his mouth, and he was going at it. Maybe he’d just draw something nice for once.

David almost didn’t want to ask. He doodled a puppy for Mabel, who gasped out loud and took the crayon from him to add “Lots an’ lots of puppies fends.”

Clearing his throat, David dove in. “Whatcha drawing there, bud?”

Mason looked up. His eyes were bright. He shuffled the book around and David’s heart sank a little. It’s okay. He’s got an active imagination.

“This is ‘achnimorph. Like a people spider.”

That was… indeed, what the drawing looked like. Mason was probably going to be rather talented at art when he was older. His dexterity wasn’t great now, of course, but it was clear what he’d drawn. A many-eyed person with eight legs and a massive spider lower half- all drawn in blue crayon.

“Where d'you see that, Massey?”

“I just thought it.”

“You just thought it?”

Mason nodded, unperturbed. He flipped a page. He was leaning halfway across the table in his eagerness to show him. “This is a fairy. They’re mean. This is a cowl.”

“A… cowl?”

“A cow and an owl,” he said, like this was obvious. “They lay eggs with milk in them.”

“Oh.” David didn’t dislike Mason’s… inventions. They were just strange and neither Anna nor David could figure out where on earth he was getting the ideas? Both of the kids got nightmares easily, especially Mason, so they watched little tv, and their teachers assured them they provided nothing that would inspire these sorts of drawings. At least today wasn’t so bad. Anna had called him in a panic when Mason drew a ‘skin couch’ one afternoon, complete with bloody stitching in red marker.

“... it makes the cosmic sand go all,” Mason threw his hands in the air. “And this is my other daddy, and this-”

David straightened. Did he hear him right? He flipped back the page. “What do you mean?”

On the other side of the table, Mabel sighed dramatically and melted down in the chair. She would have to wait.

“Mason?”

Something shifted in Mason’s face. There was a timidity there. He was nervous. “You won’t like it, daddy.”

“I’m not going to be mad. I’m just confused.”

Mason considered this and then pointed at two stick figures. One a broad-shouldered man with a terrifying scowl and square eyes, and the other a stick thin woman. “This is my other mom and dad.”

“Your… other- Mason, you don’t have another mom and dad. You just have me and momma.”

Mason shook his head, “No, before I lived here. In the upstairs house.”

David was… at a loss. They hadn’t moved since Mason and Mabel were born. They’d lived nowhere but here. He must be confused. Was he thinking of somewhere they visited? David took another look at the stick figures, tapping a finger on the table. Suddenly it clicked, and David chuckled. “Mason, that wasn’t your other mom and dad. That’s grandma Caryn and Filbrick. We visited them last summer for Filbrick’s funeral. Caryn’s your great-grandma, not your momma, silly.” Mason didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked like, if David pressed it, he might burst into tears.  David pushed bangs out of Mason’s eyes, running a thumb over the six-star constellation on his forehead with a light hand. It was a good thing that Mabel chose that moment to knock a bottle of glitter to the floor.

David pushed the instance into the back of his mind, and he didn’t even think to mention it when Anna finally got home to a (moderately) clean house. Mason filled up the little journal, and it ended up at the bottom of his toy chest, and then in a box at the top of the closet. As time went on, Mason stopped with the drawings, mostly anyway. David would find them, sometimes, in the margins of his books, little, idle doodles; eyes with bat wings, faces with too many teeth, that illuminati triangle, bearded ghosts. None of that was worth worrying about. As long as they weren’t bloody- his mother made that rule- Mason could draw what he liked. But even those doodles faded. School was more time-consuming. They moved into a new house (a house they owned!) and if some of Mason’s many journals got mixed up and lost, no one knew about it. If Mason started turning to Mabel instead of his parents after one of his near-weekly nightmares, well, that was just part of growing up, wasn’t it? He was nearly thirteen, after all.

“What was it this time?” Mabel slurred. She was still mostly asleep, her hair spread across her pillow and a wrinkled mark on her cheek. Her plump grey cat was flexing his claws into the blanket beside her head.

Dipper closed the door, shutting off the gold stripe on the carpet. He sat back down on his bed across the room and sipped a glass of milk. It was his go-to for nightmares. His skin was sticky and cold with sweat. He swiped his eyes and gulped down the rest of the glass. “Just the getting-crushed one again. I think. It’s hard to remember.”

Mabel groaned. “You always say that… need some variety.”

“Tell me about it.” Dipper sat in silence, the glass warming in his hand. He wasn’t sure he was ready to lie down again. He didn’t want to blink too slow, in case he saw it , whatever it had been, that scared him so badly. The least his mind could do was let him know what he was so scared of, but apparently that was too much to ask for.

Dipper looked down at the sound of shuffling sheets. Mabel turned to face him. She rubbed an eye with her fist and yawned. “I was dreaming ‘bout summer. We went to Grandpa Shermie’s again, and he gave me caramel but it got stuck in my braces and I couldn’t talk and I wanted to ride the motorcycle with him, but I couldn’t say anything cause… cause a’ the carmel...” Her eyes drooped.

Dipper smiled. He shifted down on his bed, eyes on Mabel, and tucked his blanket up to his cheek. Time ticked past, and before he knew it, the sun was rising. It was the first day of summer vacation.

To be continued...

#gravity falls #fan fiction #reincarnation #au #dipper pines #ford pines #character death #sort of? #in which i talk too much #i got excited about a new thing okay #and i know we're all sad i made ford dead #but its gonna be good and were still gonna see him #pinky swears #gf fanfiction #figured i post this here bc why not #ill probably include a link to the ao3 in the notes

[honeyvbarnes]

Let Me In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angsty AF, mentions of heartbreak, anxiety and depression, commitment issues, language, Happy ending (I promise) 

Summary: A heartbroken soul is never easy to fix.

Word count: 2,393

A/N: Hi, it me, ya angsty gal. The readers past is pretty much based off of my past. I wrote this to let everyone know that you’re not alone through heartbreaks, and that it does get better. Love yourself before you can love someone else!

This is also for @whimsicalrogers​! Thank you again for sharing your beautiful art with me. I love you so very much! @the-wayward-robot​

*

You know heartbreak. You know heartbreak a little too well, actually. You’ve spent most of your young adult years dating immature individuals that weren’t anywhere near ready for commitment, yet they still strung you along for the hell of it. You were ready to give up on love all together, but then you met him.

This was the man you were going to marry, you knew it, you felt it in your bones, deep in your soul. He was charming, shy but knew exactly how to make you laugh. His unique features interested you, you’d even go as far as describing his looks as angelic. He promised you the world. Promised you the life you’ve always wanted. Marriage, a home, children, and stability most of all. He gave you his heart, and without any hesitation you gave him yours in return. You gave him your mind, body, and soul. Blind by the honeymoon of it all, you didn’t see. You didn’t see the red flags and warnings. His sweet words and gentle touches put you under his spell. Easy. You made everything simply too easy. He had you, he had what he wanted. For years this man, if you could even call him that, owned you. Young fiancées, you believed you were to be wed. Until you weren’t. Alone. You were left completely and utterly alone. Left for another woman, as he had been sneaking around the last couple of months. He opened up his heart for someone else, as he shut you out all the same. Nothing. You were left with nothing, but the broken pieces of your own heart. Pieces were missing, the pieces you had so eagerly given to him.

The disgusting darkness weighed you down for the years to follow. Completely ruined for any other man, so you thought. Ugly anxiety clawing at your mind every second of the day, and the heavy depression drags you down into the unknown. And yet, you’re stronger. Built up walls for yourself, so you could not be attacked again. Although you yearn to be loved, hoping someday maybe someone will show you what true love actually feels like, but you’ve shoved that idea far away now. You’re smart, and you know love doesn’t come easy. You’re determined to never be so blinded by the fuzzy warm feelings. Cold and unattached is your new façade. Men line up to simply bask in your beauty and charm, but you’d never give them a second look. You’re stronger, and you’ll prove it. You’ll prove the world, but more importantly yourself.

*

You’re proud of yourself to say the least. Over the years you’ve worked hard to get to where you are today. Becoming a SHIELD field agent, that was your first goal. Excelling in all your courses, and challenges thrown your way, you quickly climbed the ranks and was accepted into the Avengers initiative.

Being a part of the Avengers was strange at first, but you quickly settled and fit right in. All of your teammates adored you and you now considered them your family.

Natasha took it upon herself to take you under her wing to train you, Steve and Sam always the big brothers, and Tony, well Tony was a big flirt and you loved the banter between the two of you. Clint, Wanda, and Thor loved you just as much as everyone else did as well, but Bucky Barnes was a different story.

You two became really close, really fast. When the two of you first met, something snapped in Bucky’s heart, feeling the need to protect you at all costs. He would always snarl at Tony when he’d flirt with you, or yell at Steve for pushing you too hard during training. You never viewed it as an issue, and you’d trust him with your life if it came down to it, but you were scared. Scared of accepting your friendship for what it really was. You and Bucky spent a whole year of tip-toeing around each other, never knowing what each of you wanted. The team sometimes teased you guys, calling Bucky your boyfriend and vice versa. It would always make your anxiety spike, and you’d shut down for a couple of days in result. They all knew you had some sort of dark past, but you never talked about it. Natasha always stood up for you, if you were to be questioned by another. “A good spy never reveals her past.” She would say. Your past makes you feel weak, reminds you of a time that you’d like to erase out of existence. So you continue to shut down, and shut out.

You don't necessarily like to be affectionate with your teammates. You’ll rest your head on Bucky’s shoulder on the quinjet ride home after a particularly tiring mission, hold onto Sam’s arm if he’s ever escorting you anywhere, and you’ll let Wanda give you a hug if she knows your having a bad day. Other than that, you have a strict no touching rule, and refrain from any other affection. You used to love affection, but that was when you were weak.

*

Tony Stark was infamous for throwing great parties. Galas for charities, holiday parties, and buying out whole club venues were his specialties. Tonight though, he’s agreed to keep it small and low key to celebrate you one year of being an Avenger.

You were appalled by the idea at first, and weren’t completely sure why everyone would want to celebrate such a small milestone, but you eventually agreed to a small dinner and a night of dancing. You still knew how to let loose and have a good time after all.

The festivities started a couple of days before the gathering when Tony had given you his credit card for you, Nat, and Wanda to go shopping, without any type of price range. You appreciated the gesture, and after a long day of searching, you found the perfect dress.

The breathing ensemble fit you like a glove. The fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, and had slits up both sides of the dress showing off your toned legs. For a moment you felt like yourself again, twirling in front of your mirror, and putting on the last touches of your makeup. You had just finished buckling your heels when you heard a voice pulling your attention.

“Doll, you sure know how to clean up.” Bucky spoke from the door frame of your room. He wore all black, slacks and a dress shirt to match, with the last two buttons undone. His hair was messily perfect, pulled back to a low bun, and his face was freshly shaven showing off his handsome features. He smiles at you as he walks in.

“Thought I told you not to call me that, Sarge.” You teasingly shot back, using the pet name he so graciously asked you not to call him either.

“Sorry, you really do look amazing though Y/N” he says with such sincerity, you blush at his words.

“Thank you, Barnes.”

Bucky extends his elbow to you and you indulge in his gesture, hooking you hand on his arm.

“Ready to make your grand entrance?” He asks.

“Yeah, lets get this over with.”

*

Dozens upon dozens of dishes filled with your favorite foods are served on the table for dinner. You have a taste for fine dining, and Tony did not disappoint in providing. Dinner went smoothly, laughs were shared and memories were made as the wine never stoped flowing. The common area had been cleared of the furniture and been turned into a dance floor, with a DJ to set the mood. Your favorite songs play all night long, and you dance the night away with your super family.

As the evening dwindles down, most have retreated to their rooms. Wanda, Sam, Bucky, and yourself still remain. Sam and Wanda are definitely more intoxicated than you are, while Bucky remains sober. The four of you are sitting in the middle of the dance floor as you finish off your drinks, your feet are in Bucky’s lap, he’d taken off your heels and he massages the aches away.

“Why don’t you two jus date already?” Sam speaks up, obviously with no filter.

“Sam!” Wanda warns. Her eyes immediately shine red as she looks at you, knowing very well that this is a touchy subject for you.

“Come on Sam you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about man.” Bucky smoothly fires back. You eye him and his appearance remains calm, but you can tell his anxiety spikes as well by the way he’s gripping your feet.

“I-“ you begin, but Sam cuts you off.

“Ugggh y’all are so annoying, just kiss already! Everyone one knows you guys got somethin goin on anyways. Why won’t you date him Y/N? Is it the arm? Or is it because he’s old as shit?” He wiggles his brows at you.

You’re stunned to say the least, on the edge of an anxiety attack. You know Sam’s just teasing, but you don't like to be teased. Your hands are starting to shake and the walls are starting to close in.

“Just fuck off Sam!” You exclaim. Pushing off the floor, you run to your room, leaving your friends concerned.

“What I do?” Sam asks.

*

“Y/N can I come in?” Bucky knocks on your door. You’ve changed into your pajamas already, and you’re currently trying to remove your makeup while crying.

“Go away.” You answer.

“Please, Y/N whats wrong?” Bucky hesitantly opens the door. You remain sitting on your bed but try to look away from him.

“I said go away Bucky.”

“Did I do something wrong? I mean Sam was just messin’ around Doll, I-“

“I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!” Your anxiety takes over and you can’t control it any longer. You scream at Bucky to leave you and your sobs are coning out harsh leaving you breathless. You bring your knees up to your chest as you wrap your arms around them, as an attempt at comforting yourself.

Bucky rushed forward the pick you up into his arms, but you’re quick to push him away.

“Don’t touch me! Please, don’t touch me!” You yell through breaths.

“Let me help you Y/N!” Bucky tries again and this time he succeeds in holding you, placing you on his lap as he wraps his arms around you tight. You thrash and attempt to hit at his chest to let you go, but the more you cry, the more weak you become.

“Let me go, leave me alone! Just leave me! Go away!” You slip away from his arms and promptly fall to the floor, sobbing harder as you realize you want Bucky to hold you, you want him to make you feel better, but you can’t. You can’t let him in.

“Y/N I’m not leaving you like this. Please just let me-“ and he tries again, reaches out for you sliding to his knees on the floor next to you, but you push him away again, and stand. Pacing across your room to keep your distance.

“JAMES LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” You finally scream at him.

“NO!” He actually yells back. You’re stunned where you stand. Bucky has never raised his voice at you, and his outburst shocks you like fresh crisp air. Calms your breathing, and you're confused why.

“No, I am not going to leave you alone Y/N. I can’t do that.” He grits out. Bucky stands before you tense, fists tight at his sides, chest expanding with each hard breath. He looks angry, again it calms you.

“ Why?” You ask, and your breathing labors, the tears are slowing down.

“God Y/N are you serious? I. Love. You. Why can’t you see that? I love you so much and it’t terrifying. You won’t open up about your past, and I respect you decision to do so. But I need you to let me in Y/N. I need you to tell me if you feel the same way too. I feel like you do, but you’re scared.” Bucky surges towards you and grabs both of your hands in his. “Please let me love you. After all the years of torture and pain, I never thought I’d get a chance at love. I probably don’t even deserve love, after everything I’ve done. But I love you, and I need you. You don’t know what you do to me Doll. You make me a better man. You make me want more out of life. We’re all damaged here, we can be damaged together. I just- God I wish you’d say something. I shouldn't have told you all of this, I’m sorry. I-“

“I love you.”

It comes out in a soft breath. The weight of your past dripping off of you in heaps, and its like coming up for fresh air, after drowning for decades. Bucky stands before you, a good man. Memories of the past year together with him flood your mind, and new tears form in your eyes. His beautiful face is one of shock and disbelief. But the corners of his eyes crinkle, and he croaks out a laugh.

“You love me?” He asks for good measure.

“Yes, Bucky I love you. And I’m sorry I-“

He gives you no time to explain. In one quick but gentle motion his lips are on yours. He pulls you in incredibly close, and a piece of your heart is restored. You’ve never been held in such a way before. In his arms you feel the passion radiate off of him in waves. This love is different, it’s real. Something you’ve only dreamed of feeling someday. As you pull away for air you stare into each others eyes. Searching for what has always been there.

“Y/N, I love you. You’ve been hurt, I can tell. But I promise I’ll never hurt you. I’ll spend the rest of my days protecting your heart. So let me in, okay?”

The earth shifts, and the heavens above shine bright on the lost lovers. Separate, they know nothing except heartbreak and pain, but together they find love. Soul renewing, heart repairing, true love. Nothing so cruel shall ever tear them apart, not even death.

“Okay.”

*

Taglist: @pinnedandneedled​ @perpetually-tuned-out​ @stuckonjbbarnes​ @rayche776​ @sebbbystaaan​ @the-wayward-robot​  @captnrogers​ @chloerinebarnes​ @valkyriesryde​ @captain-kelli​ @stateoflovinged​ @mushyjellybeans​ @bitchassbucky​ @an-adventureland​ @imma-new-soul​

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #marvel #marvel fic

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

In The Quiet {Eijirou Kirishima}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Apologies if there are a few inconsistencies with the movie, I haven’t seen it since its opening night back in February! This was mostly written as a self-indulgent piece because I’ve been super stressed and anxious lately, and I think sometimes just saying you’re afraid is a big step.

She took a deep breath and focused on the mushroom in her shaking palm. It was the last one, she reminded herself. One last mushroom for the miso that would be served to the island’s residents in the morning. They’d long since retired to bed and the class had formulated a plan for the next day, but she’d felt there was more work to be done.

The mushroom began to split apart like an optical illusion with a mirror, blooming left and right as it peeled untouched in opposite directions. In less than a minute there were two identical mushrooms in her hand and her vision was beginning to blur.

“You didn’t need to make thirty extra,” the voice of Sato chided gently as her eyes closed to stop the dizziness.

“N-no, s’better that I did,” she breathed. “That’ll make five extra pots of soup in the morning s-so there won’ be a need to ration as m-much.”

He frowned. “You overworked yourself pretty badly; you need rest for tomorrow.”

“S’okay,” she said with a shake of her head, grimacing when she realized how much worse it made her feel. “Gotta make sure th’ plan’s ready, war room’s waitin’.”

She dropped the mushrooms into the small crate she’d been filling for the last forty minutes or so and stumbled to the doorway, Sato following closely. Out in the hallway she braced her hand against the cool metal and slowly trekked to the small office room they had all met in earlier in the night as the storm outside had raged. The thunder and lightning had dissipated, but the tense atmosphere hadn’t.

When she reached the room she slumped in the doorway, all eyes of the few lingering classmates turning to her as Sato steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Sero? Ur’aka? Wanna talk?”

The two exchanged a look before waving her over, then thinking better of it when she took a shaky step, went to her.

Kirishima watched them go to his girlfriend, brows furrowed in concern as he half listened to Iida go over their team’s plan for the seventh time. She looked pale and sick, her body trembling enough that he could see it from across the room. He could tell that she’d massively overdone it with her quirk and was likely on the verge of passing out.

“Hey uh, Kirishima?”

He snapped from his thoughts to see Sato in front of him apologizing to Iida, Todoroki, and Tsu for taking him aside. They didn’t fight it, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to focus with her looking the way she did.

“What happened?” he asked as they stepped away.

Sato sighed. “I found her in the kitchen multiplying food for the morning. She made enough for at least five extra pots of miso which is easily thirty-five or forty more portions because she thought it would help not to ration as much since the residents are gonna be in for a long day too.”

He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Part of him wanted to be mad that she’d pushed herself far past what she knew her limit was, but the much larger part of him knew that he would’ve done the exact same thing if he could. Being a hero meant helping others and going Plus Ultra to do it.

Opening his eyes he gave Sato a weak smile. “Thanks for telling me, man. I’ll… I’ll make sure she gets some rest.”

They bid each other goodnight and he walked to where she stood with Sero and Uraraka discussing their roles for the next day in slurred syllables strung together with a tired tongue. Their classmates watched her warily, ready to catch her if she collapsed.

He slipped an arm around her waist and her body sagged against his in recognition, bleary eyes glancing up to meet his with a lopsided smile sliding across her lips.

“Hey, you two mind if I steal her?” he asked.

Sero shook his head. “No worries, I think we’re good for tomorrow. Have a good night, yeah?”

Uraraka smiled and quietly joined Midoriya at the table where the island’s map was still spread out with scribbled plans marking the canvas.

Not wanting as many eyes on them, Kirishima dropped his arm from her shoulders to place his hand on the small of her back and steered her back into the hallway so they could talk privately. Once they were a few meters away from the office he began to speak with cautious words.

“Sato said you multiplied a bunch more ingredients for the morning.”

“Mhm.”

“You had the energy to do that after multiplying what we had to make dinner?”

Her head lolled from side to side. “Don’t want anyone goin’ hungry.”

“Your heart’s too big sometimes,” he chuckled fondly.

“One’a talk, aren’t ya?” she replied.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he admitted. “The fact that Todoroki and I are taking the next shift to watch the villain we captured and stand guard probably doesn’t help my case. I should actually go back in and grab him, we have to meet Mina and Shoji downstairs soon. You should head to bed.”

She blinked. “No, ‘m waiting for you.”

“You need rest to get your energy back up for the morning,” he said quietly, feeling her slump against him. “C’mon, I’ll take you up to the room you girls are sharing before I go on shift.”

She shook her head. “I’ll wait up w’ you, s’only an hour. Then we’ll sleep.”

“No, you’re dead on your feet,” he replied. “Plus I can’t stay anyway, I don’t wanna make the others feel awkward being in the room with all of you. Look on the bright side, it’s only one night.”

“But it migh’ be the last one.”

He froze, her words sending an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

It… could be the last night, couldn’t it? He’d brushed off one night spent apart, not even considering there was a possibility they wouldn’t reconvene for the next. Was he spoiled with the routine of having her pressed against him beneath the blankets that he couldn’t fathom it never happening again?

Working as heroes in training while so young made them walk such a fine line in so many aspects of their lives. On one hand he knew how dangerous their current situation was with the lack of Pro’s to back them up and that there was a very real and high likelihood that injuries were going to happen. On the other, he wholeheartedly expected them to be okay, to be able to return to classes and the dorms and their routines.

He expected to be alive twenty-four hours from now.

But she was right, it was a possibility that one of them or even both of them wouldn’t be.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tried to figure out the right thing to say. “I… we sh—”

“I jus’ wanna be close to you,” she said tearfully. “I can pr-pretend s’okay if you’re wi’ me.”

“Believe me, I want to be close to you too!” he said desperately. “But I have a patrol with Todoroki in a few minutes and you need to sleep, baby. You’re practically asleep standing here and-and even though I don’t want to sleep apart either, there’s not much we can do.”

“Can’t do this righ’ now.”

He could see the gathering shine on her lash line and felt utterly helpless as she pushed past him to reenter the office once again. He tilted his head back with a deep sigh and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. The stress of the day had already had a headache forming but the last ten minutes had amplified it.

“Hey.”

The gruff voice from his right made him jump, dropping his hands to turn and face Bakugo who was leaned against the wall. Despite the unimpressed look on his face, Kirishima could tell he’d heard the end of their conversation at the very least.

“She looks like shit.”

“She’s exhausted. Sato told me she multiplied enough food for at least thirty or forty extra portions to serve the islanders tomorrow.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Of course she did; wouldn’t be your fuckin’ girlfriend if she wasn’t pulling some selfless shit.”

He frowned. “Do you have to be so rude just because she wants to help? Especially when we’re all on edge? C’mon, man. It’s bad enough I can’t be with her tonight when she’s not feeling her best on top of every other damn thing going on, so can you just stop?”

Bakugo stayed silent and his glare was steady. He wasn’t angry, not at Kirishima or his girlfriend but the entire goddamn shitshow situation this work assignment had morphed into. It felt like eons had gone by since he had been shyly asked for the millionth time if he was sure it was fine for her to come to their room at the lodge and share the bed with her boyfriend. He didn’t care—it wasn’t like either of them had the courage to screw around when he was barely a meter away—but he did notice how much better his best friend slept when she was tucked under his arm.

Between that fact and the easy assumption that she was probably the same way, he made up his mind.

“I’ll take your shift. Go to the office two doors down from the girls’ room, you’ll find a futon where you two can sleep.”

Kirishima’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about? You’re still hurt and why would there even be a futon in—”

“I wasn’t gonna sleep half on top of the rest of you assholes like we did at training camp so I found myself my own room but if she needs you, take it. And it doesn’t fuckin’ matter if I’m hurt, heroes push past pain to get shit done.”

“But where will you sleep if we take that room? I’m grateful for the offer but I don’t want us to take away the rest you need.”

Bakugo sighed in frustration. “The couch in the meeting room probably pulls out, its fine, now just go to her, fuck!”

He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he had heard her sleepy slur of how it may be their last night together and the heart everyone assumed was made of stone broke just a bit. Like hell was anyone dying if he had anything to say about it, least of all those two, but if she was worried it wouldn’t help her mental state in the fight that was waiting for them at daybreak. He wanted her sharp, that was the biggest reason for his generosity. It certainly outweighed the fact that his best friend and his girlfriend were disgustingly important to him and he wanted them happy.

“Thanks, Bakugo,” Kirishima said softly. “I really appreciate this.”

The blonde turned away and crossed his arms, ignoring the urge to wince. “Don’t read into it.”

Before anything else could be said he was trudging down the hallway and around the corner to the stairwell. For all his yelling and generally poor attitude he could be kind when he felt the people closest to him needed it most, but he’d be damned if he stuck around for more than a single word of thanks.

With a shake of his head Kirishima turned back to the office and walked in to find Uraraka sitting beside her on the small couch where Yaoyorozu had laid earlier in the night. Eyes red from exhaustion and what looked like a few tears blinked up at him blearily.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, thumbs brushing away the half-dried tear tracks. “Got a little surprise for ya.”

She cocked her head to the side but didn’t object, standing up on wobbly legs with a supportive hand on her lower back from Uraraka. He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close to his side, throwing a grateful glance in the other girl’s direction.

“Thank you for sitting with her.”

Uraraka smiled sadly. “Take care of her, Kirishima.”

He nodded, a tiny grin allowing the tip of one pointed tooth to peek out.

She waved them off as she went back to Midoriya, and he set out towards the opposite staircase that Bakugo had taken with her by his side. He half carried her up the dozen or so stairs before they had another expanse of hallway to walk, her weight nothing when she had to lean on him.

“Where we goin’?”

He smiled. “Bakugo got us a private room.”

Humming in confusion or acknowledgement—he wasn’t sure which—she closed her eyes, cheek pressed firmly against his bicep as he led her past the office the girls were going to share for the night. Stopping two rooms down just as he’d been told, Kirishima pushed the door open to see filing cabinets against the far wall and a desk that had been pushed to the side to accommodate the futon in the middle of the room.

Shuffling her in his arms, he lightly kicked the door closed behind them and put them into semi-darkness as he moved them farther into the room. He let her lean back against the desk as he removed her utility belt, boots, and the bulkier vest of her hero costume, then removed his own accessories, both his headpiece and shoulder gears set onto the desk next to her belt and vest, boots tossed aside with her smaller ones.

“Time to get some sleep,” he murmured, guiding her to lie down on the futon. The limited light from the corridor through the paneled window of the office door cast dull shadows over them both.

She curled up on her right side almost immediately, her body drawn to the far side so that he had a perfect space to slot himself behind her. It was as if they were back at the lodge in his and Bakugo’s room, taking their places for the night to rest for the long day ahead. That part, at least, was still true.

The morning would bring the difference. There wouldn’t be time to wake up slowly like they liked, blankets cocooned around them and their legs entangled, lazy kisses and easy conversation shared. There would be redressing in their gear then parting to take their positions with Kirishima going to the forest and her to the open fields.

He tried desperately to push the thought of being apart from her out of his head but its claws dug in deep, hanging onto him like a heavy weight. It made him scramble to his place on the futon and pull her back against his chest, their breathing synching to match her slower, more even breaths as it helped him focus on warding off the panic attack looming.

In the quiet of the night it was always hard to chase away the fear and worries he held, and on this night it was so much worse. The dark thoughts intermingled with all of the things he loved about her, teetering him on the edge of what felt like insanity.

Her eyes were beautifully determined when she fought and he hoped with everything he had that he would be able to see that look in her eyes again in the future when they fought together as Pro’s and not as the permanent set of her gaze from a twisted and broken body unmoving at the peninsula’s entrance. Would he be able to look into lifeless eyes even if they were the same ones that would’ve once looked at him so fondly?

She had always hugged him close with arms far stronger than they looked and they made him feel safe and confident and cared for. He always prayed that she felt the same when his encircled her waist and pulled her close but tomorrow he wouldn’t be with her and she would be so far from him and those strong arms of hers might not be strong enough to withstand the force of Nine. What if they snapped, bone splintering through her skin?

There was a brightness in her smile that set his heart on fire and grew even more blindingly beautiful the closer they became to one another both as friends and partners. He desperately needed to see that brightness continue its growth as their relationship grew—how it would look the first time they exchanged I love you’s or the first time they were intimate. How… how would he live if he never saw it again?

Somehow she cared enough to be with him despite his insecurities and low class ranking and weird group of friends, so if it was him who fell in battle the next day, she would be devastated. Could he expect her to stay strong if she survived only for Iida or Todoroki to show her his battered body and apologize for bringing the news of his death?

In the stillness of the office, he shuddered. The worries would surely plague him until the exhaustion won out and follow him to his dreams, nightmarish possibilities knowing no bounds. It didn’t matter, he had to remind himself. He would rise with the sun and fight regardless. He wasn’t a hero fully recognized by Japan, but he would be a hero tomorrow when he would stand by his classmates to keep the island residents safe. His resolve was more solid than his quirk.

Kirishima tightened his hold around her waist and breathed in deeply.

“’M afraid, Eijirou,” she whispered.

He bit his lip. “So am I.”

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated!

#kirishima imagine #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #bnha imagine #mha imagine #eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijiro #kirishima #eijirou kirishima imagine #eijiro kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima eijiro imagine #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha imagines #mha imagines #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagines #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #heroes rising spoilers #tw violence

[innuendostyles]

ben can be needy but it’s okay because he’s got you

!!! this piece contains mentions of feelings of distress, if this could trigger you in any way please be wary <3

needy - ariana grande (thank u, next)

ben hadn’t been himself recently. he’d been a lot more .... attatched. you were used to waking up with ben’s arm around your waist, but the night you woke up with ben sobbing into your shoulder, you knew something wasn’t right.

he’d always been someone to keep his feelings to himself. he felt like a burden. he thought it might change when he found someone he loved & felt like he could share anything with- but when you came along it just scared him even more.

you always told him to tell you how he feels but he.... couldn’t. and it all built up. it kept on building to the point where he couldn’t sleep without clinging on to you- the only way he could ground himself.

days of ben constantly following you around, only leaving you to use the bathroom or occasionally eat a bowl of cereal. gwilym had actually rang you one day, asking why ben wasn’t picking up his phone. you didn’t have the heart to tell him that he hadn’t spoken for 3 days, you just told gwilym he was ill. his phone had actually, and purposefully, been left uncharged in the living room.

he seemed to come out of it after you spoke with him the first time- more of an argument than a discussion. it was only for a day or so, and then he was back to how he was before.

“i cant do this, ben.” you said, “figure it out, please. it’s hurting me as much as it’s hurting you.” and with that, you kissed his cheek and set off for your friends house, where you stayed for 2 days before ben rang you.

“why didn’t you pick up the first time?” you heard ben say in a vulnerable tone through the other side of the phone.

“sorry- didn’t have my phone on me” you replied into the mobile.

“okay.” he replied.

“are you alright?” you asked him, fully knowing the answer.

“i need you, y/n” he said with a sob.

that was an hour ago.

now you were sat next to ben on his sofa in his apartment.

he couldn’t look at you.

he’d never been like this before.

“i just feel so... low?” he said, his voice cracking.

“that’s okay, baby.” you assured him.

“if you don’t wanna say anything it’s okay. i’ll wait for you to be ready.” you whispered, putting your hand on his.

“i just need you” he whispered back.

“i’m here, ben. forever. and i’ll always be here.”

“i’ve been so ........ dependent. m’ sorry.”

“it’s okay, ben. really. we all have our ups ‘nd downs, yeah?” you replied.

“sorry. jus’ .... gets hard sometimes. being in the spotlight all the time.” he said with a sniffle.

“stop saying sorry” you chuckled, sadly.

“sorry” he chuckled aswell.

“it’s selfish” he said after a while, “i know it is. i jus’.... feel so needy all the time. you’ve got your own life, your own job, family, friends, events... but you’re always here. makes me feel bad.” he sniffled. “but ‘m scared. scared you’ll move on. find someone different, normal, more like you.” you could see the regret in his eyes. he wasn’t meant to tell you that part.

“ben, i’m with you in this forever. til the end, right? that’s what you say. ‘nd i believe it.”

“it’s so damaging. all the faking. walking round like nothing’s bothering me ‘n then coming home crying when i’m going to sleep. makes me feel weak. like it shouldn’t be happening. but.... i can’t help it. y’know?” he asked with a hopeful tone.

“yeah. course. happens to everyone. all the time. ‘n it’s okay, ben. it should happen. it’s just because you’re... passionate. passionate about your job.”

“but it feels like i don’t give a fuck. has done for a while.” he sadly chuckles.

“no. i promise, ben. it’s cause you’re passionate.”

“but, i’m tired of faking it. them fuckin’ award shows, all i’m thinking about is walking out. every time. even if i win. i’m always thinkin’ about walkin’ out. it’s like.... i have to hide it. ‘n it’s killing me. having to hide it when ‘m all dressed up and looking like im perfect.”

you gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze. also a gesture for him to carry on speaking - you were learning more about him now than you ever had in your 3 year relationship with him.

“overthinkin’ again, aren’t i love?” he gave a soft laugh as you laughed aswell, nodding your head and resting it on his shoulder. you brought his hand up to your mouth and kissed the back of it.

“thankyou for lovin’ me. even when i’m a needy little bitch. i love you.” he whispered and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“s’okay. i love you too.” you replied, kissing his jaw.”

he was okay after that.

he took a break from instagram, though he’d never been the most fond of it, the time he spent without clicking on it now was a big change to the mindless scrolling he used to subject himself to every night before bed.

didn’t go to any award shows for a while.

spent more time with you, his friends, his family.

you guys even went to live with his parents in the countryside for a couple of weeks. getting ben to remember why he shouldn’t have to apologise for who he is.

he did, in the end.

his mum thanked you with a very big hug the night you both left to return to your normal lives.

“you mean the world to him, love.” she whispered as she kissed your cheek.

you held her shoulders, “he means the world to me too.” you replied.

#ben hardy x y/n #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy angst #ben hardy fic #ben hardy imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #bohemian rhapsody #my work #needy #needy ariana grande

[thealphabetmurders]

Laundry Day

Pairing: Prinxiety

Word Count: 3580

Summary: Virgil walks in on Roman with the door unlocked, causing him to realize some feelings he didn't know he had.From the sentence prompt: "I'm sorry, I thought this door was locked."

Triggers: anxiety, suggestive themes

Authors Note: This is my second Prinxiety fic in a month, what is happening to me? 

Thank you to Koko on my Discord for the sentence prompt. This was really fun to write. 

(Read on AO3)

Virgil didn’t mind his roommates, not at all. Sure, living in a city apartment with 3 other people sounded like a nightmare, and it was sometimes, but they worked together great. Logan was a surprisingly component chef, Patton was good at keeping the peace whenever tensions rose, and Roman encouraged them all to be active to match his own fitness lifestyle. Of course, they are also all close friends, but they had all had their own fair share of bad roommates, and after two years of the 4 of them living together, there was no reason to stop or for that to change. They were in a comfortable, domestic heaven.

***

The Home-osexuals Chat

P: Hey kiddos! Remember I wont be home for the next week because of the convention in Jersey, please do not slack on your chores, I will be upset if I come back to the house and nothing is done :(

L: This is Logan. I believe we still have the list you wrote out for us, we will do our best to abide by it.

R: You have nothing to fear Padre, we will complete everything you need us to!

Virgil looked at his phone, smirking, before placing back in his pocket, blasting the music from his large headphones as he gathered up his laundry as well as his roommates. He felt proud of himself for actually being ahead of schedule and doing his and his roommates laundry a day ahead of schedule.

Normally, laundry would be a task left up to the individual to complete, but 3 months into living with each other, Virgil quickly found out that his roommate absolutely despised doing laundry- a formidable task that Virgil had never had an issue with. So, his job was to wash, dry, and fold everyone’s clothes for that week. It was a bit awkward folding his very platonic roommates undergarments the first time, but after doing it for years, he barely bats an eye now.

With a huff, he reached down, and grabbed the three smaller plastic laundry bins and one large one on top of one another, the stacking made the baskets reach his chin. He struggled to the elevator but eventually made it up to the 14th floor and set the laundry down so he could begin folding.

Virgil began with the large basket- Princey’s laundry. It was the biggest and the most daunting out of the 3. With work out clothes and dancing attire and the fact that Roman spills on himself a lot, he goes through a lot of laundry. No matter. He begins his work at a steady pace, folding the shirts and shorts in the way that he knows Roman likes, separating the clothes in the basket by the occasion. Work out clothes and undergarments go on the bottom, everyday in the middle, and dancing/theater attire goes on top. Virgil let his mind wander about a couple projects he has to complete for work and a potential promotion that is in the works at his job. He bites his lip, shaking his head, wanting to distract himself from the pressures of work on his day off. He steadies himself and focuses on the polyester fabric between his fingertips and the sound of Hayley Williams’ voice.

Once he was finished, Virgil put the basket on his hip, feeling like quite the 19th century maid, and made his way up the stairs where Roman bedroom was. Patton and Roman essentially had control of the upstairs (it only being their two rooms and a bathroom) while Logan and Virgil claimed a hallway for their corner of the house. It didn’t take long to realise that Roman blasting show tunes while Logan was studying for his Masters was not going to work out.

Virgil sighed, knocking twice on the door decorated with golden stars and fairy lights draping on the outside. There was music Virgil couldn’t quite make out play from inside the room, so it is very likely he could have just not heard Virgil’s subtle knocks, “Ro, I have your laundry,” Virgil said, to no avail. He tried the door handle and it twisted successfully, so Virgil pushed himself into the room, “Roman, where do you want me-”

He cut himself off, unable to form any sentences after seeing Roman. It wasn’t Roman fault, Virgil caught him off guard. And it’s not like he was doing anything bad, and yet Virgil’s palm seemed to sweat and his throat dry once he saw Roman doing flexibility stretches. Roman was sat on the floor, holding his right ankle with both his hands behind his head, his other leg bent on the floor in front of him. Maybe it was because Roman was also completely shirtless or maybe it was the small and tight shorts that did not leave a lot to the imagination or maybe it was the way Roman’s olive skin gleamed with sweat under the lights, paired with his Adonis like body. Maybe it was all of that. Maybe it was none. But Virgil’s brain just went white as all he could do was stare.

“Ah, Virgil!” Roman let go of his ankle, and relaxed himself cross-legged on the floor, “I’m sorry, I thought this door was locked,” He stood up, towering over Virgil, stretching his arms a bit. Virgil nodded, dumbly, “Yea, uh, I knocked but the music-” Roman walked over to the speakers and turned off whatever cheesy pop song was playing, and now Virgil could clearly hear all the blood rushing in his ears. “The music is… Is no longer playing,”

“You okay there, Raggedy Angst?” Roman chuckled, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

Virgil nodded, feeling the color in his cheeks rising and he is praying to God Roman is dumb enough to not notice the way he is avoiding his gaze, “Yea, uh, just a bit tired, didn’t get a lot of, um, anything to eat today?” He tried that, hoping he would believe him.

Thankfully, Roman did, sucking in a breath through his teeth, “Yikes, no sleep and no eating, that is really bad for you Virge,”

Roman grabbed the laundry basket from Virgil and it took all of his strength to not whine as his fingertips brushed against Virgil’s waist. Roman was talking, most likely about his sleep schedule or eating, but Virgil was not there.

Virgil was transported into his own personal 80’s style fantasy dream sequence, where Roman had him backed up against a wall. He had on that smirk that used to make him roll his eyes but now has him weak in the knees. Roman brushed the loose hairs out of Virgil’s face, which made him bite his lip and hold back a gasp.

Roman smiled, “You’re so sensitive,” And then he was manhandled onto the bed, Virgil imagining just how soft those silky red sheets would be against his back, as Roman straddled him and lightly kissed his neck before nibbling his ear, whispering into it, “You want me to show you how flexible I can be?” And Virgil wanted that. He really, really needed that. But he was shaken out of his daydream by Roman, the real Roman, shaking his shoulder.

“Geez, you really are out of it,” Roman crossed his arms, concern all over his face.

“Huh?” It took him a moment to process what Roman said, “Yea, I- uh, might have a nap,” He swallowed thickly, his conscious eating away at him from what he just imagined, “Do you- uh…” Virgil trailed off, attempting to find the words, “Do you always workout li-like, y’know… Without clothes,”

“Not typically, no,” Roman shrugged casually, seeming unbothered by the question, “It is just you were doing my laundry when I normally do my stretching, and I didn’t have any clothes to wear. You are a day early,”

Virgil nodded, biting his lip, rubbing under his nose, “Right well, uh, I am gonna have that nap now. Uh,” Virgil did a two finger salute, causing Roman to raise an eyebrow at the awkwardness, “Sorry, I am tired,” His eyes flickered to the left and right before exiting the room.

Virgil closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, before groaning, “Well, fuck,”

***

Virgil may have gotten sleep but it certainly was not peaceful. The unwanted thoughts kept plaguing his mind, not even his favorite conspiracies YouTube channel could get his mind off of the golden-toned man.

“So, you’re having anxiety ‘cause… You find Roman attractive?” Remy took a long sip from his coffee before rolling closer to Virgil’s chair, “I dunno babe, this one is on you,”

Virgil spun around, angry, “How is this on me?”

“You should have seen that Roman is hot as fuck earlier,” Remy shrugged, “I look at him and am like ‘congratulations dude, you’re literally a 10’. I am honestly surprised none of you gays had a sexy dream about him sooner,”

Virgil cheeks warmed as he gripped the front of his fringe, “I did not have a…” He looked around, making sure there were no co-workers to overhear, “Have a sexy dream about Roman!” Remy raises an eyebrow and Virgil bit his lip, “Not in… So much detail,”

Remy cackles and pulled out his phone, shaking his head, “Ah man, that’s hilarious,”

“Look, it’s not like I have never thought Roman was attractive before, of course he is, but like, I don’t understand why I am having this… Reaction,”

Virgil and Remy were silent for a while, the the latter spoke up, “Maybe it’s all been like, building up and it just took one thing to make you realise, and that was Roman lewdly stretching out on the floor,”

He nodded, “I guess I do find my self seeking Roman’s company more so than anyone else, and we are like, always talking and texting,”

“So it was just a matter of your dumb brain making you realise you have feelings for him, so you’re not just in denial for the rest of your life,”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “Well, that’s rich coming from you,”

Remy’s expression flickered from smug to sheepish, but blink and you would have missed it, “I don’t know what you are referring to,” He scratched the side of his face and took a long sip of his coffee while Virgil scooted in closer, placing his hands on his knees.

“Oh really? So, you are just never going to address the absolutely giant crush you have on Logan? How you keep having problems with your coursework that only he can help with? How every time you’re around him you always bring your Louis Vuitton galaxy bag in hopes that he’ll ramble about space?” Remy kept sipping his coffee, avoiding eye contact very casually, “We’re not going to talk about that?”

Remy stopping drinking, smacking his lips together and sighing, “Nope,” Virgil rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “Do you even want to date Roman, or do you just want to f-”

“That’s a good question,” Virgil cut him off, as one of their coworkers walked by to get coffee from the breakroom, “I’ve been thinking about that, and I am not 100% sure. I know I am attracted to him in some weird, ambiguous way, but I haven’t even seen him since the- since the ‘incident’ so I guess I just have to find out,”

Remy nodded, “Well, good news is, you can find out right now,” He gestured his now empty cup towards reception where the devil himself was standing, dressed in his favorite form fitting red sweater tucked into black jeans. “Mm, he looks so good in casual wear,”

“Remy!”

“What?” Remy smirked, “Getting jealous? I may not want to date him but I am also not blind,” Roman walked over to the two men, waving with one hand, holding a drink carrier in the other one, flashing a classic 1000 watt smile.

“God, I bet he doesn’t even know how beautiful he is,” Virgil muttered to Remy, who just nodded.

“Hey, gorgeous, this certainly is a surprise,” Remy smiled, standing up. Roman set the drinks down before pulling him into a hug. He looked over to the drink carrier, pulling out the frappuccino he assumed was his, and collapsed back into his chair.

“What are you doing here today, Ro? You didn’t tell me you were coming?” Virgil frowned.

Roman leaned against Virgil’s desk, ruffling his hair a bit that was damp with moisture. His curly brown locks looked like that of a supermodel, or a 1920’s Hollywood actor. He sighed, putting on a soft smile, “Well, I got done with my lessons early and was in the area, thought I would surprise the two boys that are hard at work,” He looked around the office at everyone either on their phone or browsing Facebook on their computer, “Busy day, I take it?”

Virgil groaned, “We all just finished our projects for the month, so there is nothing new to work on, so we are just at work for the sake of being at work,”

Remy rolled his eyes, “I hate it here,”

“Capitalism really does suck sometimes. The 40 hour work day isn’t even productive. Studies find that people in typical office jobs can accomplish all their work in 3 hours, and to force someone to be at their job for more than double than length actually can cause a sharp decrease in productivity, or, what was that called, Virgil?”

Virgil was taken aback, “It’s called presenteeism. Wait, you were actually listening while I was rambling about that?”

Roman shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing the world, “Of course I did, why wouldn’t I want to listen to you, Virgil?” He softly smiled at Virgil, placing a hand tenderly on his bicep.

Remy smirked into his frappuccino, trying not to say anything while Virgil attempted to not scream.

Internally, he let out the biggest groan, “Well, fuck,”

***

Was Virgil avoiding Roman? Yes. Was he doing it in a way that was super obvious? Of course. Did Logan scold him for a little bit for taking over the kitchen table with unfolded laundry? Undoubtedly. When Virgil finally calmed down a bit from his gay panic (and regular panic), he tackled the pile of laundry he had been avoiding. Many of the clothes were now wrinkled from sitting out so long, so he had to get out the ironing board and tend to those as needed.

He hummed to the lo-fi beats coming from his headphones, ironing one of Logan’s shirts, beginning to relax, when his headphones were ripped right off his head, just as he was beginning to get lost in thought and maladaptive daydream.

“What the hell?” Virgil looked up and saw Roman holding the headphones on the tip of his finger, an eyebrow raised. He was wearing a show shirt that he cut the sleeves off of as well as most of the torso to make into a 00’s style crop top. “Oh, h-hey Roman,”

Virgil was distracted. Distracted that the object of his fantasies was standing right in front of him, looking a bit annoyed and confused, as well as the fact that he was wearing that particular crop top and Roman always looked so good in white… He was distracted, so he ran over his own finger with the iron.

“Ow, fuck!” He exclaimed, gripping his right finger, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh my Lord!” Roman rushed over to the kitchen and began frantically opening cupboard doors, “Where is the first aid kit, where is it,” He muttered to him,

Virgil breathed out heavily, “Roman, don't worry about helping, I- I got it,” He rushed away, making a beeline for his and Logan’s bathroom. He turned on the cold water and thrust his entire hand underneath the rushing water, the cold mixed with the warm from the burn made for an uncomfortable sensation.

“Okay, what is going on with you?” Roman opened the bathroom door (shit, Virgil forgot to lock it) holding the first aid kit, “You have been avoiding me and been weird ever since I came to see you at work. Was it the fact that I surprised you at work, or something?”

Virgil was not sure if Roman could see the bright blush on his cheeks but he would be a fool not to notice the stutter in his voice, as he pulled his hand away from the sink, “O-oh I really didn’t min-”

“Ooh, that looked really bad,” He commented, interrupting Virgil. He manhandled him closer towards himself and held a tight grip on his wrist and he uncapped the burn cream and liberally spread it across his finger, “I have been burned multiple times before, don’t worry, I will take good care of you,”

Virgil is on fire. He is on fire and he is dead. Roman’s eyes twinkled a bit as he hummed lowly an adage that he did not recognize, but it had the melody of Disney. His lips were parted slightly, thankfully not noticing the long minutes Virgil was staring at them. When Roman dragged a tongue across the bottom one and bit it as he was wrapping the bandages, it took all of his willpower to not say something, instead opting to cover his entire face with the hand not being treated.

“There you are, all finished!” Roman patted down the wrap and kissed the bandages, just to add insult to injury.

Virgil nodded vigorously, “Okay, thanks Roman, bye,” He attempted to move around Roman, but Roman’s wide frame compared to Virgil’s small one made it a losing battle.

“Easy, you’re still being weird, what is going on with you?” Roman gripped Virgil shoulders, and he was avoiding eye contact with the beautiful man in front of him.

Virgil should just say something, tell Roman, rip the band-aid off, and they can get on with their lives after a couple weeks of awkwardness. These past couple days have been absolute torture, he doesn’t know if he can keep it up.

But, his anxiety has something else to say.

“Just, forget about it Roman, I’ll tell you some other day,” Virgil mumbled, if the bathroom hadn’t been so quiet, neither of them would have been able to hear it.

The other man sighed, dejected, and Virgil felt a pang of guilt, “Okay, fine, you are under no obligation to tell me, just know I miss talking to you,” Roman lifted his hand to brush the hair out of Virgil face, and of course, his body had to betray him with a involuntary whine, “and I-” Roman cut himself off, raising an eyebrow at the noise. Virgil wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He is sure he is going to be the first person to actually die from embarrassment.

“Virgil?”

He swallowed thickly, eyes squeezed shut, “Yea?”

A beat. “You like me, don’t you?”

Normally, Virgil would respond with some snark or a belittling comment towards Roman, but his nerves were turned up to 10 and he couldn’t even think straight (more so than usual), so in the vast sea of sassy remarks, there was not one to be found.

“Yes,” He responded, honestly.

There were a couple moments of deafening silence in the bathroom where Virgil thought Roman was going to sigh, disappointed in him or hit him or kill him. All irrational, but all seemed very likely in his anxious state.

“Virgil?” Roman asked again, his voice softer.

“Yea?”

Roman placed a hand on his shoulder, “Can you look at me?”

Virgil sighed, slowly placing his hands down to his side, looking up into Roman’s wide brown eyes. He had on a soft smile. Before Virgil could even register what was happening, he was being lifted up by his thighs, his legs instinctively going around Romans waist and arms around his neck. Roman then pushed Virgil back against the wall, holding him there for a passionate kiss.

At first, he didn’t kiss back, so shocked by Roman’s bold actions that his brain was lagging like a 2006 Chrome browser. Roman began to pull away, but once Virgil’s brain caught up with his body, he pulled himself closer to his partner and kissed back with a passion and fervor that he is sure Roman did not expect.

If this were a movie, the lightbulbs in the bathroom would have burst and the music would have swelled, but instead, all Virgil could sense was the softness of Roman’s lips and the heavy weight lifted off of his shoulders. The feeling of ecstasy made his legs tingle, almost causing him to lose his grip on Roman and collapse onto the tile.

Virgil one the one to break the kiss, resting his forehead against Roman’s chuckling slightly, “So, I am guessing you like me back?”

“Have for a while now, Virge,”

The two of them chuckled, peppering soft kisses onto each other’s faces that would normally make Virgil gag, but now it made his heart swell.

They heard the front door open and slam shut and a sigh came from the kitchen, “Really kiddo?” They heard Patton yell, “You couldn’t get the laundry done before I came home?”

Virgil sighed, frustrated, leaning his forehead on Roman’s shoulder.

Roman chuckled, amused that Virgil was about to get chewed out, “Someone is in trouble,”

He groaned, tightening the grip on Roman’s waist, “Well, fuck,”

A/N: By the way, here is the link to the stretch that Roman was doing. I did my best to describe it, but if you need a visual, here. 

#prinxiety #sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #fanfiction #my writing #and that is all the tags

[alleycat97]

Sleepover

Pairing: Eliana x MC

Description: Tired of her mother and sister fighting, Aria needed a break from trying to hold the family tigether. Close to exhaustion and no place to go, she finds the one person who can make everything better, Eliana.

Disclaimer: Not my characters. Please enjoy!!

...

“I know you took it! If I find out you took it, I’ll be mad at you forever!” Alexis stomped out of the room angrier than ever.

Your mother tried to plead with her, only getting angrier with her youngest daughter, she already told her she didn’t take her cherished sweatshirt but Alexis wasn���t satisfied with that.

From the first day of this vacation, from the day of her fathers funeral, Alexis and yall’s mother have been going at each other, sometimes for the silliest of things. No matter how hard Aria tried to get them together and see the light, no matter her efforts to bring them together. Whether it be a spa day, making drinks by the pool or coming together at the annual clam bake, the victories were only temporary.

Aria would make ground on her sister and mother only to have another thorn burst her bubble and she would have to restart. You would think her explosion at the breakfast table would have knocked some sense into her family but it was looked over and here they were, arguing over a sweatshirt. This summer was hopeless and Aria was done trying to hold her life, her family, and her fathers legacy together.

“THATS IT! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YALL’S CRAP!” Aria exploded, making her mother cover her mouth in shock and stopping Alexis in her tracks.

“No matter what I do, how hard I try to bring you two together, the worse off we are! Maybe we should just sell this stupid house! Maybe we should get out of this stupid town and never come back and never see each other again!”

“Aria...You don’t mean that.” Her mother tried.

“Oh? This family is a disaster because you two cannot get along! I’m tired of being the glue.”

“Where are you going?” Alexis asked.

“Its none of your business!” Aria yelled out slamming the door leaving her family members shocked.

Aria walked in frustration to wherever her feet took her, that just so happened to be a familiar cowboy bar downtown. It was late but a few patreons were there enjoying the music, drinks, and mechanical bull.

Aria slid onto a bar stool with her head slumped low. Then she slid up from behind the bar,

“Well hello to you.” Eliana greeted. “Aww why the long face?”

Aria let out a long sigh, “Its my mom and sister again. They’re fighting over Alexis’ lost sweatshirt.”

Eliana couldn’t help but giggle, she knew of Aria’s situation but the reasons kept getting sillier, “Well what’s so special about this sweatshirt.”

“It was my dads and he gave it to Alexis. She always wears it.” Aria explained.

Eliana didn’t need to figure out why it was special to the girl now. “So what happened?”

“Alexis came running downstairs freaking out over it. She couldn’t find it and automatically started blaming mom because mom told her it was time to get a new one.”

“So do you think your mom took it?” Eliana asked while she prepped some customers drink.

“Honestly? No. If anything mom probably took it to get patched up. Mom has tons of issues with dad being gone, so getting rid of his stuff is helping her get rid of her baggage. Hince the reason for selling the house. But she knows that shirt is special to Alexis, she would never.”

“So Alexis blew up at your mom and wouldn’t let her explain herself, you tried to intervene like usual but finally blew up for good?” Eliana asked wiping the bar down.

“Yes. And this time, idk. I’m so tired of trying to be the peacemaker. Dad would be so disappointed but I’ve done all I can do, I don’t K...know...why they can’t get along.” Aria tried fighting the tears but they overwhelmed her.

“Oh sweetie.” Eliana placed her hands in Aria’s and leaned over the bar. “I can’t say I fully understand your problem because I’ve never been there. Being the youngest of 3 older brothers and all. But one thing I know is that they are my family and no matter how much I may hate them at any given moment, I’ll always have their back.”

There was something magical about Eliana. It didn’t matter how awful she felt, or how bad her day was going, Aria knew the moment she saw the woman, her problems would go away. She was literally the most precious thing she had ever seen. From her talks about her turtles, to drawing doodles with her tongue sticking out, the woman was serious in everything she did and it was the cutest thing Aria had ever saw.

“Do you want something to drink? Maybe calm your nerves?” Eliana asked.

“No thank you. I should get going, I’m gonna go lay on the beach.” Aria said rising from her stool.

Eliana bit her lip in wonder, “Aria it’s 11pm! Just go home?”

“I’m not going home. For tonight anyway. I can stay on the beach, atleast it’s peaceful.”

Eliana cleared the register and stowed away the cash and quickly flipped the sign to ‘closed’ before ushering the straggling patreons out.

“Eliana what are you doing?” Aria quizzed.

“You’re coming home with me. It’ll be fun, like a old fashion sleepover.”

“But...but...can you do that?” Aria asked amazed.

“Well I just did. Come on so I can lock the door.”

Aria couldn’t contain her smile and excitement, Eliana grabbed her hand and they walked a few blocks to the woman’s apartment.

“Don’t laugh, it’s not much, but it does the job.” Eliana said pulling Aria through the threshold into her tiny apartment.

Aria looked around at the immaculate apartment, it was super cute with a beautiful view of the ocean. It wasnt large but for Eliana it was perfect.

“Are you hungry? I can fix you something if you would like?” Eliana asked trying to be a good host. Aria could tell that she was nervous.

“Oh no thank you. I’m fine. Come sit silly.” Aria said patting the couch.

Eliana did as asked and sat down beside Aria who gladly put her arm snuggly around the girl.

“Eliana relax. I can hear you thinking.” Aria said laughing at Eliana and her fidgeting.

“I’ve never actually had a sleepover before. I don’t know what to do.” Eliana let out. That was her greatest weakness and fear. Everything Eliana did had to be planned out thoroughly, she didn’t half ass anything and it had to be perfect.

“The Eliana Flores has never had a sleepover!?” Aria laughed out. Seeing the down look on her face, Aria stopped teasing and pulled her closer. “The best thing about a sleepover is there is no rules to go by. We make it up as we go.”

“Really? But I thought we had to gossip and do each other’s nails and talk about nonsense.” Eliana asked.

“Well yes. But we can do whatever you want to do. It’s your house, I’m just glad to be here with you.”

Eliana stretched her arms and let a yawn escape, “Sounds like someone is tired.” Aria laughed.

“I’ve been up for hours researching my turtle. I’m starting to get worried. It’s been weeks and I can’t locate her.” There was the passion Aria loved.

“Well how about we get some rest and I’ll help you search tomorrow, the least I can do for you taking me in.”

Eliana smiled, “Just as long as you talk to your family.” Aria had to agreed.

Eliana stepped into her bedroom and came out packing a pair of sweats, “Here Aria, these should fit you.”

Aria practically ripped them out of Eliana’s arms with excitement and stripped down baring it all for Eliana to see and hopped in her sweats wearing a huge smile.

Eliana stood in shock at the sight of a nearly naked Aria before she put her sweats on.

“Well? How do I look?” Aria said modeling the slightly baggy sweats, rapping her arms across her front hugging herself tightly.

“Oh. Um. You look. Yeah.” Eliana couldn’t put together a proper sentence earning a laugh from Aria. “So that’s means I look good?” Eliana nodded.

Aria sprawled out on the couch preparing to settle in when Eliana spoke up, “You can stay in my bed if you want. I can sleep on the couch.”

Aria got up and looked the woman over with a devilish smirk, “I got a better idea.” Aria grabbed Eliana and pulled her inside her room and hopped on the neatly made bed. “We will sleep together.”

“Oh” Eliana stuttered. “Ok, ju...just let me change.” Eliana grabbed her pjs and headed for the bathroom but was cutoff by Aria.

“No ma’am. Strip for me.”

Eliana’s jaw hit the floor. “You want me to strip?”

“It’s only fair Ellie, you saw my goods. I think the host should return the favor.”

Eliana nodded and slowly stepped out of her jeans and pulled her shirt off. Earning a satisfying moan from Aria. “Like what you see?” Eliana confidently spoke.

“Mmmmhm. I do I do I do.”

Eliana feeling confident finally pulled on her pajamas and Aria couldn’t help but laugh at the cuteness before her.

“What’s so funny?” Eliana inquired.

“Those pjs are the absolute cutest!” Aria squealed. It was just simple sleeping shorts and cami top covered in little sea turtles.

“If you hadn’t noticed I’m kind of obsessed with turtles.”

Aria pulled Eliana in bed and they quickly crawled under the covers. Eliana laid on her side like she normally did, and Aria slid up behind her, pulling herself firmly against Eliana and laid her arm securely over the woman.

“I know. That’s what I like most about you my little nerd.” Aria placed a kiss on Eliana’s cheek and the duo drifted off to sleep.

#playchoices #eliana x mc #eliana flores #sunkissed

[loveseungs]

stray kids reacting to you waking them up by kissing them all over their face

requested by anon

a/n: oh hell very nice

warnings: very soft things ahead read @ ur heart’s own risk

chan

- o heck - o goodness - where even do u start - he’ll prolly be passed the heck out if he even gets the chance to sleep - so like,, u’d often avoid tryna wake him up - esp caus we ALL KNO HE NEEDS IT,,, LIKe,,, - anyway - but he already slept for a good 10 hours and u know he needed to be somewhere so u hopped over to the side of the bed n started showering channie in kisses - just!! some soft n innocent pecks all over his face - his eyes slowly flutter open n he’s kinda confused for 5 secs but when he realizes he’s being,, showered in love n affection… the BIGGEST smile appears on his face - ok u know the face chan makes when he smiles rlly big where his eyes sorta disappear and he giggles a lil bit while smiling - fricfricfricfric abort mission as a chan stan im attacking myself - he’s just grinning like a fool and ur beginning to get flustered so u stop - he takes this opportunity to smooch ur nose - “good morning, sunshine!”

woojin

- i’d like 2 imagine u often fall asleep cuddling woojin bc he’s The Bear of the Century - he’s just… v v v warm and soft - but one time u guys fell asleep on the couch after watching some good ol’ romcoms, buried in each other’s arms - u were very much asleep but the sun kinda hit ur eyes as it seeped through the curtains and u woke up, feeling a little bit of weight on ur waist - u realized woojin was still snuggled into u - ajdlkasjdklajlkdajsl ur heart was melting wow what does it feel like 2 wake up smothered under the snuggles of the love of ur life - u shifted ur postion to plant tiny kisses all over his face bc ksjaldjlaksjldaj kim woooooooojin - like he was already awake bc u shifted in ur position but he decided to pretend he was sleeping so he could receive more kisses - kim woojin is a sly lil’ fricker ʕ •ᴥ• ʔʕ •ᴥ• ʔ - when woojin opened his eyes suddenly and smiled his Woojin SmileTM,, u almost fell out of the couch - “ur awake!!!” u exclaimed, covering ur face - “yes, I am,” he answered, pulling u into a close hug - suddenly ur face was like - 0.5 cm away from his n jkdslkdalsdjklasjdlka - he rested his forehead on urs so he could stare into your eyes,, which he thought were just. ugh. So heckn beautiful - “I didn’t expect to be woken up in such a pleasant way,” he admits, letting his eyes linger on yours.

minho

- ughhh I feel like minho loves this sorta thing - k so like - minho took one glance at his cats and decided that he was jealous of them bc they were sleeping so peacefully - so he decided, ‘yknow,, I’m going to take a good, well-deserved nap.’ - thing is - he forgot u were coming over to hang - when u got to his house, u saw minho just,, paSSED OUT on the couch - lmao me - u were just gonna let him sleep more for a bit caus g00dness knows he is in need of rest - but soonie and doongie started to meow and paw at their empty bowls - smh minho,, feed ur siblings - so u kneel down beside the couch and attempt to wake minho up - but ofC NOT BEFORE PULLING OUT UR PHONE AND SNAPPING PICS OF THIS BAREFACED BEAUTY - usually people look decent sleeping,,, but minho was just,, OUT COLD LMAO - next time minho teased u,,, u had smth u could use against him (◕ ˬ ◕✿) - its not like u took pics bc he looked rlly cute and peaceful,,, like,,, um,,, TOTALLY NOT - anyway,, his cat-siblings were getting kinda hungry so u moved over n started 2 plant smol kisses on his face - he mumbled some incoherent strings of sounds, but ended up fluttering his eyes open - when he realized it was u pressing kisses on his face, he just grinned - “oh?” he teased. “can’t resist me, can you?” - but his confident demeanor couldn’t fool you. you saw his ears turn bright (and I mean BRIGHT) pink - “no, not really. It’s more for you because I know you like it so much.” - “so do it more, why don’t you?”

changbin - CHANGBIN FALLS ASLEEP EVERYWHERE AND ANYWHERE - JUST SAYING - LIKE,, HE’S THE MEMBER MOST OFTEN CAUGHT SLEEPING ON VLOG - so when you find him knocked out cold in the studio, you’re not even surprised - it’s supposed to be lunch break but the others made u go and get changbin, who they thought was still working on music prod - NO! HE’S ASLEEP - u walk towards the sleeping boy and kiss the top of his head!! - ughh he smells good - a natural, fruity scent - wow seo changbin. just marry me - u make ur way from his hair to his forehead, then to the tip of his nose, then his cheeks - u were even considering giving him a short peck on the lips but u were interrupted bc those lips u wanted 2 kiss started to turn upwards into a smile - his eyes were closed but u could tell he was awake n u started 2 kinda get flusterd bc ‘O NO CHANGBIN CAUGHT ME BEING SOFT’ - expecting some kind of witty remark about his handsomeness, you brace yourself… only to find… - changbin looking at u with such a tender gaze - asklajdlksjdklad reader,, - he is so in love with you. - his eyes say it all: the way he stares at you so delicately is proof that he, seo changbin, is deeply, madly in love with you. - “So… are you gonna continue and kiss me on my lips? I mean… it’s too late to stop now.”

hyunjin

- LSJADLSDJLKASJDLKASJDAS HWANG HYUNJIN IS WHIPPED FOR KISSES - like honestly - he loves receiving kisses just as much as he loves giving them - this is actually how he wakes u up quite often—by smothering u in lil’ smooches - HE MAKES SURE HIS LIPS ARE ALWAYS IN PERFECT CONDITION BC HE N E E D S TO BE SURE THAT WHOEVER RECEIVES HIS KISSES LOVE THEM - and o my hell, u rlly do - but one time, you wake up and he’s still asleep, cuddling his pillow - this is when u decide to turn the tables and for the first time… pepper him in kisses - just. all over his face - but wait. U wanted 2 make sure they were The Best,, so u even took an extra step and quietly made ur way to the bathroom to brush ur teeth - THE LEAST U COULD DO WAS KISS HIM SMELLING DECENT, ALRIGHT - anyway, u crawled into bed again and started to smooch him all over his face - u just - admired every single one of his facial features and kissed them - he woke up with a sleepy giggle and before u knew it,, u were the one being smothered in kisses - “I see you’re trying to use my tricks on me. That’s so adorable.” - EVERY TIME I IMAGINE SLEEPY HYUNJIN I KINDA DIE A LITTLE BC SLEEPY!HYUNJIN ON CAMERA’S REALLY REALLY CUTE henlp im soft - bonus: on days hyunjin is especially hard to wake up, you do end up kissing him but he replies with the most obscure things - you: smooches him - him: “please don’t tell me they ran out of chicken”

jisung

- listen - anything u do to jisung makes him weak - he’s just so - HE LOVES!! AFFECTION - he’s constantly asking u if u could meet up - I mean, in regards to ur schedules - bc he rlly enjoys being w u !! - and u love 2 be with him - Saturday nights became hangout night for u two - usually u’d go shopping or take a walk in the part - sometimes even just go on spontaneous trips to far away - but tonight, yall jus wanted to stay in - the weather has been cold lately, so yall opted to jus snuggle and watch Netflix - it was already quite late when ur movie finished and by the time it did, jisung was sleeping on ur shoulder - ‘ah.. he must be tired,’ you thought, examining his face - he looked,,, so tranquil, so calm… - what a rare moment bc we all know he’s rlly l o u d - but ur shoulder was starting to hurt and u wanted to make sure u could sleep comfortably - “jisung,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead. “wake up… the movie’s over and I don’t want to sleep sitting down.” - he stirred a little bit, but his eyes remained closed - “jisuuuuungggg…” you mumbled, “if you don’t wake up, I’m going to kiss you.” - he’d woken up already, but seeing as you made such an offer, he mustered all his strength not to smile and pretended he was asleep - you sighed and smooched his cheeks. “jisuuung, wake up.” - “no,” he said quietly. “if I do, you won’t kiss me.” - gosh darn fellas which kdrama is this - why am I writing such cheesy things,,, I actually apologize - “can we please not sleep sitting down??? My back hurts, okay??” you requested, slapping jisung’s squirrel cheeks playfully. - “okay, but you have to wake me up like that again tomorrow.”

felix

- one word: - disaster - absolute calamity - rule 1: don’t make lee felix’s heart melt or else - but like - u, dear reader, are a rule breaker - anyway - ur neighbors w/ felix so u can easily just barge into his house n wake him up for school - and that’s what’d happen anyway - you guys would wake up, wake each other up, get ready, then head out together - it was just an average morning, and u went over to felix’s house like usual - his mom kindly let u inside and thanked u for always taking time to wake her mess of a son up - “it’s my pleasure,” you answered, heading to his room - sdjaklsdjlaskdjal did I ever mention - felix is THE BIGGEST KID ever - sometimes, it’s hard to spot him on his bed because there are like,,, - A LITERAL MOUNTAIN OF PLUSHIES - and some of them are really big - so u walk over to him and in the whirlpool of stuffed toys, you spot his face - its kinda funny how he’s sprawled out on his bed tho - if u took out the blanket, u’d see his limbs just,, everywhere - so when I say he’s sprawled out, he’s really sprawled out - gosh was this what u were gonna deal with in the married life??? - anyway u went to just smack him in the head w a pillow - like usual - but then for some reason - his face looked extra cute today - maybe it was the plushies - maybe its just because he’s sleeping - you knew rule 1 said: don’t make lee felix’s heart melt or else - but !! the way !! he was !! lying there !! - u could not resist and u kissed every single freckle on his face - “wake up, sleepyhead,” you whispered, running a hand through his hair - when he woke up and realized what was happening - he s c r e a m e d - rip headphone users - yall know how he screamed when changbin kissed him in the survival show, right?? - yeah, THAT, but 10x more wild - he just let out a ghastly scream and fell off the bed,, - wrapped himself in his blanket - “felix!!” you exclaimed, “what’s wrong??” - “STOP!! IT’S TOO EARLY TO BE IN LOVE WITH YOU, [Y/N]!!!!!!”

seungmin

- he’s not the biggest person on skinship - I mean yeah he was cool with it but it wasn’t something he’d search for every second - homeboy’s jus chill - he’s a very diligent boy who believes that rest is v impt so he always makes sure to sleep early so he can wake up early - so usually its him who wakes u up with a gentle pat and a kind “good morning!” - but one time, u find out that he’s out late because minho insists that skz extends practice for a little bit - that little bit turned into a p LONG WHILE - totally not bc they fooled around during practice,,, lmao… what r u talking about - anyway, long story short, seungmin gets home late,, but he doesn’t rlly care bc it’s a weekend after - he finds u already asleep and though he’s disappointed he can’t talk to u now, he settles in to just cuddle u until he falls asleep - when u woke, u were surprised to feel a weight on ur waist - aaaand there it was folks, a seungmin in slumber - aaaaaaahhh u were lowkey shocked bc!!! Seungmin !! was cuddling u!! - rare - u felt very thankful and happy that seungmin had u tight in his arms - for a while, u just laid in bed and thought about how much u loved this boy - soft morning hours = very open - it wasn’t until he shuffled and turned to the other side of the bed when u decided to wake him up so u could have breakfast - u decided to kiss seungmin all over his beautiful face !! - when he woke up, he frowned… - “…ew, [y/n]. you’re so cheesy.” - u scrunched ur nose. “mmm? You don’t like it?” - “no, not really,” he answered, leaning to kiss you on the lips.

jeongin

- ASDFGHJKL OKAY SO LIKE - highschool!au real quick hope u don’t mind - u were dating jeongin for quite some time - and u were v v v v v happy with it !! he treated u very well - whenever u’d go out, he’d always be rlly considerate - lmao the first time u went out,,, he bought a nice jacket that ur friends said u found cute on guys - he TRIED to impress u, and u couldn’t help but laugh bc the tag of the jacket was still on the back, which means he must’ve only bought the jacket in attempts to make u swoon or smth - anyway - u were really in love with his sweet boy - this sweet boy… who u wanted to surprise after his chorale practice - but as the evening crept in closer, u started to worry - where was jeongin?? - he wasn’t in the practice room - u checked everywhere !!! and he wasn’t there!!! - u even shot him a message but he didn’t reply - ur last stop was the library, and lo and behold - homeboy fell asleep on his books - we stan a hardworking student folks - u couldn’t help but giggle - shaking him lightly, u mumbled, “hey jeongin… wake up, it’s late and the library’s about to close.” - all he did was move his head and stir a little bit - his bangs covered his eyes a little, and u decided to brush them off… - … A MISTAKE - suddenly he looked RLLLLLLY MCHECKIN’ CUTE - oh dear oh no - ur cheeks flushed and u didn’t know what to do - asdfghjkl u SORTA RLLY WANTED TO KISS HIM - u don’t know what washed over u, but in a sec, u were peppering kisses on this sleeping boy’s face - his eyes flickered open and as he felt your lips brush against the skin on his face,,, - his cheeks became tinted with strawberry red - his ears??? PINK AS THE DAY - HE COULDN’T EVEN SPEAK PROPERLY - “t-thank you for kissing me!!!!” was all he could say before melting in his seat.

#sk-writersnet #staydata #skz #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fluff #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #soft stray kids #bang chan #soft skz #woojin #lee know #lee minho #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #jisung #felix #seungmin #i.n. #jeongin

[pupmon1]

Part one of a work requested by @7-galaxys on discord. References to The Cave and The Storm, though they aren’t required to understand.

----------

Plum slammed his fist into a stuffed punching bag. The sand filled bag swung back, and in the time it took to swing back, he stepped back and held out his hand. There was a distinct puff of air when the bag hit his open palm and came to an abrupt stop. He stepped back and pressed his hands together, bowing to the opponint.

He paused and put a hand on his chest. Underneath his robe rested the peaceful stone he made a pendant out of. Just touching it made him feel more calm and at peace.

“Hey!”

Plum stopped at the shout and glanced over. Standing in the door way was a familiar face...and one he wished would stay training is solitude, or at least...stay away from him.

Red Pepper, Muay Thai as he was now known, though Peach still called him Peppy, to get under his skin, approached with a smile. “Plum! Hey!”

Plum frowned a little and and crossed his arms. “Are you here for a spar, or to tease me?” Plum didn’t feel like dealing with his fake kindness. It was no secret to either that they did not like each other. They were civil in front of others….sometimes. But no one watched them now. So they did not need such civility.

“Ah, you’re so limited!” Muay Thai said with a laugh. He approached with open arms, and a large smile. At first, he seemed more relaxed...then a twitch. Plum stepped back, barely in time to dodge what would’ve been an underhanded knee to the stomach. “Why not both?” the reckless warrior said with a laugh.

Plum growled and steadied his stance. He pulled his arms inward, blocking Muay Thai’s powerful fists and elbows from slamming into his chest and stomach.

“You still go by Plum, eh?”

“Not all of us wish to cast off our pasts.”

Plum danced back, trying to stay out of range, or at least out of range of a firm elbow to the head. Muay Thai kept advancing, Plum had to keep turning to avoid getting cornered by a wall. Though at every turn, his opponinte would slam his elbow into the side of his head, or move in for a grapple.

“Where’d ya get that? Ninja?” Muay Thai pushed foward and grabbed Plum’s head, pulling down into a firm knee. Plum turned his head so it smashed into his cheek. Then he got pushed away. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him ya know.”

“That’s none of your business!” Plum snapped, throwing a punch at Muay Thai. He could feel the air moving around his knuckles.

“It’s almost funny,” Muay Thai laughed as he ducked to one side. He turned into the duck, kicking Plum in the side. He knocked him off balance, then followed through with an elbow.

Plum couldn’t keep his balance, and he was sent to the ground. Muay Thai chuckled and crouched over him. “Really it’s helarious. You really think he likes you, don’t you?”

Plum’s eyes narrowed and he looked up at his rival. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean...I really don’t think he cares about anybody, least of all a weakling like you.”

“I’m not weak!”

“You’re weak in every sense of the word! Especially compared to Ninja. He’s a more compient fighter, he’s the smartest person to set foot on this mountain, and spiritually? He blows someone like you out of the water.”

“I. Am. Not. Weak.”

“Only weaklings cheat.”

“I don’t cheat!”

Muay Thai grinned and leaned in. “I saw Peach carrying you. You didn’t earn it...she carried you to a reward you shouldn’t have gotten.” Plum went pale, and Muay Thai kept speaking. “You’re too weak to keep your balance….too stupid to learn to swim….and too spritually corrupt to earn it honestly. Do you really think Ninja would like anyone like you?”

Plum said nothing. Muay Thai chuckled and patted him on the head before leaving. Though he stopped by the entry way and called back. “You haven’t even seen his face, have you?”

Silence was his answer.

“Yeah I thought not. He cares...but he still hides everything he is. He doesn’t really care, does he?”

Again silence. Muay Thai just turned and left.

Plum's thoughts started racing. Why was Ninja with him? He was weak...he was nothing compared to that skilled cookie! His mind darted from event to event…

Ninja's voice was so soft when they were alone.

It was just pity.

Ninja always took care of him, bandage him when he's hurt himself.

Of course he did! They were brothers in arms...they didnt need to be anything more for that to happen.

Plum has seen Ninja at his weakest! That means something right?

Yeah...he was so weak he knew how to hide it...Ninja jus- No!

Plum gripped his head and trembled. No! He's not letting his doubt warp that! His breathing quickened, and his body trembled. His thoughts were becoming too much.

He pulled his hands away, pulling out his pendant and grasping the stone between his hands. He needs to stop. He needs to calm his thoughts...calm himself down.

His doubt ate a hole in him...but he pushed nothing into it and shoved it away. He had to. Just calm down. Just breath and calm...find the center. Calm down. There's no reason to let it get at him.

Just breath...calm down. Shove it all away. There's no reason Ninja would actually like him. And that's fine….he didn't expect Ninja to actually like him. Ninja was his superior. But if it made him happy, to keep the delusion until it tires him...fine.

#Cookie Run #Plum Cookie #Red Pepper Cookie #Plum/Ninja #my writings #paaain

[bloody-bee-tea]

Match Me Up

And the second day for Teen Wolf ‘Cest Week! The prompt was Dating App Mishaps. You can read it here on AO3 or watch out for the read more.

~*~*~

Derek was staring at his phone. He distantly thought that this might be a bad idea, the app had asked for his age several times now, and it made Derek nervous to lie about his age and pretend he was already over eighteen. But he was also determined, because he had seen Peter use this specific app, had seen him swipe left more than right, thank god, and Derek had to set up his own profile.

Peter had never responded to his flirting, had never even indicated that he noticed Derek’s attempts, and Derek was getting desperate. He just wanted to be with Peter, and he was running out of ideas.

He hesitated a moment before he confirmed his sign-up and then he was officially the owner of a dating app profile. Derek guessed he was lucky it wasn’t Grindr or something else.

Derek had left his profile vague for now, because he didn’t know what would get him matched with Peter. The only things he had seen on Peter’s profile were his location and that he was looking for someone younger his own gender, so Derek added his own location and added that he was looking for an older man.

He had set his age at eighteen, seeing as that was the youngest you could be on the app, and he hoped that it was enough to get matched with Peter.

Derek was immediately matched with several guys, but he swiped left on all of them, after carefully making sure that they weren’t Peter. Derek had swiped left on almost twenty guys, losing hope already, before he got Peter as a suggestion.

He only hesitated a second before he swiped right, too excited to believe this was happening, and his heart almost tripped over itself when Peter had apparently swiped right on him, too.

Derek tried to tell himself that it didn’t mean much, because his profile pic deliberately didn’t show his face, just his chin and chest, and Peter could have swiped right for any number of reasons.

Derek checked out Peter’s profile as soon as he could, lingering a long moment over of the picture Peter used, because it was highlighting his blue eyes and thick neck and Derek was goddamn weak for that, and then he quickly matched his profile to fit better to Peter’s.

Then he hesitated for a long moment over the message icon, because he wasn’t sure how to even start this conversation. He was awkward in real life, not good with words, and Derek knew that it translated through text as well.

And he desperately didn’t want to turn Peter off.

Eventually he clicked on the icon, and then he didn’t know what to write. He started a few times, typing out greetings in hopes of making a good first impression, but everything he came up with sounded stupid even too himself.

You’re a shy one, huh? Peter wrote him first, and Derek flushed when he realized that Peter could see when he was typing.

Kinda, Derek replied honestly and then smacked his forehead. This wouldn’t end well, Derek could already tell.

Adorable. I like that, came Peter’s reply and Derek’s heart fell.

Derek was shy in real life, too, and if Peter didn’t like that when it came to Derek, maybe he didn’t like Derek at all. No matter what Derek sometimes thought he smelled on Peter.

Derek didn’t quite know how to keep the conversation going, but Peter made it easy on him. He kept a steady stream of messages and questions going, teasing, flirty little things that made Derek blush on more than one occasion, but replying was a lot easier than coming up with something to say himself.

You ever been in love, little one? Peter asked him a few days later and it was so close to being called pup by Peter that Derek’s heart ached.

Yeah, Derek admitted.

 Did you tell him?

No. I’ve tried to hint, but I think he doesn’t feel the same way about me, Derek wrote, and he was surprised at how much it hurt to finally put it into words that Peter didn’t want him back.

What an idiot, came Peter’s reply and Derek flung the phone onto his bed.

He wondered why he ever thought this was a good idea; how he had convinced himself that talking to Peter like this wouldn’t just hurt, but in the end, he sighed and retrieved his phone. Peter and he were close, always had been, but this was the first time they talked like this. Derek didn’t know if he could stop.

Are you still there? Was the last message Peter had sent and Derek quickly replied with a Yes, sorry.

He faltered over his next question, but he wanted to know, he needed to know, and he figured that after this he at least would know.

 Have you been in love?

Yes, Peter replied after a lengthy pause. But it will never happen, so it doesn’t matter.

 It still matters.

 Maybe. Let’s not talk about it anymore.

Derek wanted to point out that it was Peter who had started this kind of questions, but he let it slide. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more about this person Peter was in love with.

A small part of Derek hoped that maybe Peter was talking about him, but he didn’t dare to hope. He had been hoping for so long, and he was getting tired of it.

Still, he kept talking to Peter, kept responding to his flirting and teasing, and he refused to notice that Peter looked happier lately; smiled more and was almost glued to his phone. He acted like he was in love with David as Derek had called himself on the app and Derek was torn between raging and yelling, and clinging to his phone just as desperately.

They had swapped more than one picture at this point, but Derek was always careful to keep his face out of his, and not to have any recognizable things in his background. Peter was understanding of that, hadn’t pressed Derek once he said that he didn’t feel comfortable putting his face out in the internet and that had been that.

Derek felt bad for deceiving Peter like that, and that feeling got worse the longer he kept the charade up, but as much as Peter obviously liked talking to him, Derek loved talking to him too. He didn’t want this to end.

It felt like Derek had gotten to know a Peter on the internet he hadn’t known before and it stung to know that Peter had kept so many parts of himself a secret from Derek. Peter had talked about going to college, getting a different degree than what he already had, pursuing his dreams, and Derek had never even known that Peter was unhappy in the pack, with his position, with what Talia asked of him. But now that he knew, it was hard not to just walk up to Peter and hug him and tell him to do what he wanted, what he loved; but Derek knew he couldn’t do that.

Peter had asked him once if Derek wanted to meet, but Derek had blocked that off as well, because he wasn’t ready to lose Peter. He didn’t know if he ever would be.

~*~*~

Derek screwed up on accident.

He noticed it as soon as he sent the picture, saw the telling family picture in the background and there was no way in hell Peter wouldn’t see it and wouldn’t put it together. It didn’t even matter that Derek still hadn’t shown his face.

Derek rushed to tug his pants back up, he had sent a picture with his sweatpants so indecently low they almost, barely, showed off the base of his dick, and put on a shirt again. Derek had just managed both of these things when Peter was already walking into his room.

He seemed tense and unhappy, phone clutched in one hand and Derek’s heart sank. He had lost every chance he might have ever had with Peter.

“What the fuck have you been doing?” Peter wanted to know, voice dangerously low and Derek couldn’t look at him.

“Talking to you,” he muttered, and he could hear the phone creak in Peter’s grip.

“You’re underage! Have you been putting your photos out there all this time? Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

At that Derek finally looked up, because Peter sounded worried and hurt more than he sounded angry.

“I saw you use the app. I just—I only talked to you on there,” Derek lowly explained, and he saw Peter’s eyes widen.

“You knew it was me all along. You had to, because my face is right there in the picture,” Peter snapped. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Derek almost sobbed out. “You never responded to my flirting, you never even looked at me twice, and you had to know I want you. You could at least have told me off, but you didn’t, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You kept this going for months, Derek.”

“I love you. And you talked to me like you never did when you thought it was me, and I just. I wanted to never stop talking to you. I’m sorry,” Derek choked out and he curled up small on his bed, slung his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees, closing his eyes and wishing desperately he could close his ears too.

“Oh, pup,” Peter whispered, and Derek heard him step close and he startled when Peter pushed his fingers through Derek’s hair, scratching lightly at the back of his neck.

“Don’t call me that,” Derek miserably said, and Peter huffed.

“Would you prefer it if I continued to call you little one?” Peter softly asked and Derek could feel rage well up in him.

“I want you to stop pretending like you care,” he yelled out and then his breath stuttered when Peter quickly sat down on the bed and pulled Derek into his arms.

“But I can’t,” Peter whispered into his hair. “I’m not pretending. I never have. I just didn’t realize you really wanted me. You’re a teenager, you’re supposed to want everyone.”

“I only want you, though,” Derek told him, and Peter kissed Derek’s temple.

“I’m beginning to see that,” Peter replied. “You know, I’m actually impressed. You were really sly, setting up a profile like that, specifically to match mine.”

Derek couldn’t help the small smile when he heard how proud Peter sounded, and he burrowed further into Peter’s chest.

“I didn’t really think you would continue to talk to me, though.”

“I love you, no matter where we talk. I always thought you seemed kind of familiar,” Peter admitted. “And I loved it, because I could pretend that it was you.”

“You could always just talk to me,” Derek said with a pout, thinking back to all the things Peter had told him that Derek never even knew about.

“Derek, I love you and I thought you didn’t feel the same. Talking to you was never quite that easy for me.”

“Oh,” Derek breathed out and Peter chuckled.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Oh is right.”

“But—you can talk to me now,” Derek tried. “Because now you know, right?” Derek asked, afraid that Peter would still tell him no.

“Yeah, darling, now I know,” Peter gave back and nuzzled Derek’s cheek.

Derek pressed into the contact, smiled when he felt Peter’s lips all over the side of his face, and when Peter came close to his lips, Derek turned his head, meeting Peter’s lips with a low whine.

“Shh, it’s alright now, pup,” Peter whispered against his lips and Derek surged forward, pressing their lips together more firmly.

They didn’t really get to talk that day, but neither of them cared about that much.

#bt writes #deter drabble #deter #twcaw2019 #dating app mishap #getting together

[lysitheeea]

take it

Pairing: Julian Brandt×f!reader

Fandom: Football

Warnings: smut, swear words

Summary: Filthy times with Julian and Y/N

Take a shot everytime I use a pronoun. finished writing this late at night and I'm really sorry if there are any mistakes

"I almost called you to pick me up and fuck me on the backseat of your car. Pleased?"

Julian's head isn't the only part of his body that raised. It was almost like his dick sensed her. She walked over to him just like a lioness to her prey. Like she was challenging him to do a wrong move so he could be punished. She had a poker face, but her walk was what you see at the gates of heaven. Or hell.

This morning she left to meet with one of her friends for a coffee leaving him alone and needy. He couldn't stop the filfthy fantasies he had. He watched her getting ready, wanting to throw her on the bed when she was getting undressed and rip her clothes apart when she got dressed. When she bend over the desk as she applied makeup, he almost got behind her Finally, he thought about fucking her brains out against the door before she left.

"Yet you pushed me away when I tried to sneak my hand into your panties this morning." His voice was rough. He didn't wanted words, he wanted screams.

"I couldn't leave Sierra alone. Do you want to know what almost got me moaning in public?" She climbed into his lap as he sat on the couch. His hands immediately grabbed her sides and pushed her closer, glad that she was now here and couldn't escape him anymore.

"Hm?"

"She went to your instagram. It was all good until she checked your tagged photos and there was the hottest one I've ever seen. It was you on the field. You had the same look on your face as that time I rode you. Remember? My apartament, almost a month ago. "

He remembered. How could he not? He was tired after practice so she did all the job. He remembered the moment he came, how he screamed her name and how she attacked his neck right after.

"I remember it too well. Anything else about me?" She laughed, throwing her head back and giving Ju a perfect view of her chest.

"Eyes up." He remembered the times he blushed when he got caught staring at her. Now he didn't feel any shame, her body became his own personal heaven and the entry was between her legs.

"She is happy for us. Happy that I met someone who is always gentle with me. If she knew ..."

"I was always gentle until you begged me to make you cry and turn your ass red. It's almost like I'm abusing you." Y/N put her hands on his chest and started to press kisses along his jaw. Ju whispered a "fuck" when he felt her tongue against his neck.

"You're not abusing me. You're abusing something else."

"You're very attached to it."

"Sometimes you are the one more attached to it than me."

Ju slapped her ass. She flinched and stopped her work on his neck. She got down on her knees, right between his legs. She touched both his thighs, slowly parting them. He wasn't wearing boxers, only sweatpants so his erection was very hard and visible. Y/N grabbed his shaft through his pants and placed wet kisses on it, leaving a trail of dark marks. Julian hissed, getting excited about the blowjob he's going to receive. A final kiss was given to the head, before she pulled away.

"Babee, don't tease." He whined. His girlfriend got up and grabbed her phone. A few seconds later, music started to play and it all started to make sense.

She moved her hips by the rhythm while getting closer and closer to the couch. She took off her shirt with wavy motions, revealing the black bra Ju wanted to rip off only a few hours ago. She sat on his lap again, this time with her back facing him. She arched her back offering a good view of her ass and started to twerk.

"Fuck."

He was wordless. Her moves mached perfectly the music, giving the blonde a pleasing feeling everytime her butt cheeks arrived fast then slow on his thighs. She never gave him this type of show until now. She was always sensual to him, even when she didn't tried to be, but this was a whole new level.

"Shake it, love."

She listened to him. For how stubborn his girlfriend could be in their everyday life, she obliged to everything he said during sex. Even if they weren't still on the act.

"Higher." Now she was directly moving on his dick and the blonde could't help but open his mouth to get some air. The feeling and view got him breathless.

He grabbed her hair in a ponytail and gently pulled it. He thanked himself for doing it because she pressed harder and harder against him. He enjoyed this, but he was getting more and more impatient.

Y/N was on her feet again. The lioness reappeard. Those pretty tits of hers were finally free, her nipples being as hard as his dick. She removed her pants painfully slow, teasing her man to the limit. When she climbed in his arms again, Julian couldn't wait anymore. Her bare chest felt good against his clothed one, but all their clothes needed to be gone. His girlfriend must read his mind because the next second she helped him get rid of his shirt.

He pulled her away to remove his pants, then he climbed on top of her. He placed his hands on each side of her and took one of her nipples in his mouth while he grabbed the other boob. She moaned and that angelic sound got him weak. His kisses got lower and lower until he reached his favourite place.

He remembered her on her knees a few moments ago, how she teased him without actually taking his dick in her mouth. So he's going to recieve a taste of her own medicine. He gave her pussy one single kiss over the panties before going higher again.

"Asshole."

"It's fair play."

"Tomorrow I will teach you how to twerk then. Now I want your dick inside of me."

And that's it. Her underwear was gone, replaced by Julian. They both screamed at the feeling of being a whole again. Everytime they did this it felt like their first time. Nothing could compete with this. Everything else beside their bodies didn't matter anymore. Not even the dirty lyrics in the background that could have been written about them.

I’mma work you like a pro, baby

And, you gon’ take it like one

Yeah you gon’ take it like one

"You like it, baby? The way I feel inside you?" Because he loved the way she felt around him. Everything was so wet, so warm and so tight. Perfect. Her pussy took his dick so well, he was convinced it was made just for him.

His hand gently grabbed her throat so he could look her in the eyes. But she barely could keep hers open. She was hypnotized by the way his hips moved against hers. And he needed to hear it.

"Yes. Yes." It was all she could manage. He thrusted himself into her rougher making her yell to the lord.

"Fuck, it's soo good." She threw her head back and her nails scrached his back. The pain only brought even more pleasure, making him give his everything to her.

"C'mon, you can take it." She always took it. Everything he gave her. No matter from what position or at what pace. She was a pro thanks to him.

Y/N gripped his shoulders and he instantly knew what she wanted. She now stood on top of him like a goddess. She was going to rip him apart like one.

"I'm going to show you how well I can take it." She didn't sank down slowly on him like she usually did. She literally jumped on it, surprising the both of them. It was so deep like this. His whole dick was inside her , filling every single place it didn't before.

It was a mess. Y/N was staring down, enjoying what she was seeing. Because of the fast pace and her chaotic mind, she couldn't see cristal clear what was happening. And maybe she didn't need to. Her senses worked very well at this moment. Julian touched her lips with his middle finger (ironically) and she took him inside her mouth like she did with his dick inside her pussy.

The sounds got louder. Y/N may had something in her mouth but that never stopped her from being heard. Ju was groaning, more fantasies walking through his head as the woman on top of him sucked on his finger. Their skin was heard too. Wet sounds filled the room, getting dirtier by the second.

"Close, baby."

Julian came first. He received what he ached for the whole morning and the amazing time when his girl choosed to offer him a show. He emptied himself inside her and he gripped her hips so hard, leaving marks she was going to admire later.

Y/N followed soon after him, screaming like a pornstar, the sansation of his semen inside her being the last she could take for now.

She fell on his chest, close to his heart. The place in which she lived. Her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lips. They were panting, getting used to breathing normally again. They were sweaty, flushed and satisfied.

Or so they thought.

"We have to shower. But getting clean isn't the only thing we can do there."

Y/N laughted and pressed her ear against his chest, listenting to his heartbeat that was now getting to its normal pace. She loved him so much. He was the only one she wanted to have moments like these with. No one else. Just him.

"We're fucking like rabbits."

"Like rabbits, huh?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, but it's not a bad thing. Why wouldn't I want to make love to my sweet, caring and loving boyfriend?"

"Well, I can't believe that after all this you decide to compliment my personality."

#julian brandt one shot #julian brandt imagines #julian brandt imagine #julian brandt smut #football player imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #football smut #footballer smut #football player smut #julian brandt