#how the fuck do all the people i care about start suddenly dropping like flies. what the fuck

[scattered-winter]

i am so tired. so goddamn infinitely tired.

#the whooooole family is coming over tonight and tomorrow for the funeral and like i love most of them. #but i literally do not have the energy to deal with All The Chaos that comes with family gatherings. like PLEASE #i am literally hanging on by my fingertips rn it is taking every bit of my energy just to help with food prep and funeral planning #i am just sooooooo tired. so very very very very very tired. #winter speaks #personal #grief tag #still cant believe im gonna be going to 2 funerals in the span of a few months. #how the fuck do all the people i care about start suddenly dropping like flies. what the fuck

[fillinforlater]

Hii! Could you do a smut of Minnie x Yuqi x Miyeon please? I don't really have any specific things I want in it other than scissoring and all of them just all over each other lol

Sorry im in a mood-🤪

To Glide

Minnie x Yuqi x Miyeon

Length: 2.000 words

Tags: lesbian sex, lesbian threesome, LOT'S OF LUBE, annoyed sex, fingering, clit play, scissoring, lesbian missionary, fold in half (Yuqi), pretty and submissive (Miyeon), has had fucking enough (Minnie)

(A/N: Here is a random drop to start of the new year lol. This is what happens when you send the right ideas to me. Have fun and stay healthy!)

“This is such a not-good-idea.”

Minnie sighs and pinches her forehead. To say that she has doubts about this new ‘project’ of Yuqi would be an understatement. She hates that this obnoxiously loud girl always pushes onward with her ideas without ever thinking of the consequences. Like last week, when she threw this party at Miyeon’s house—Minnie expected a handful of people—and suddenly hundreds of people turned up and trashed the whole thing. For some reason, Miyeon didn’t even care all that much.

Guess Yuqi’s tongue kept her busy all night, Minnie thinks, an envious blush on her cheeks. That’s the curse of Yuqi, she might at times be a bad friend, but in the end, she is just irresistible. In the end, Minnie can only blame herself for not rejecting Yuqi’s plans of filling a small pool with lube—in the middle of Minnie’s own living room. 

Your house is the biggest, Yuqi argued, and with a few adorable blinks, she got what she wanted. And now Miyeon is already ready to dump in over ten bottles of lube into the small plastic construction, definitely not made to withstand whatever crazy games Yuqi will come up with. Minnie can still say no, still send them home, hell, they can have enough fun with each other in Yuqi’s—

“Aw, why not, Nicha?” Yuqi complains cutely and wraps a sly arm around Minnie’s waist. “It will be so much fun, don’t you think? I can’t see how it can go wrong.”

“It’ll be such a mess,” Minnie argues, but it’s fragile, because Yuqi’s magic goes beyond puppy eyes and that deadly voice: she is already fiddling with the buttons of Minnie’s jeans, easily able to pop them open and dig her hand onto Minnie’s sex. The thought alone arouses her. “I-I don’t want to clean up afterwards.”

“Then I will clean up, okay? Pinky promise?”

“O-okay.” Dammit, she couldn’t resist again. Minnie is just too weak for Yuqi.

“Perfect. Miyeon, pour in the lube! Let’s have some fun.”

“Okay, babe~” Miyeon shouts back and gleefully squeezes out bottle after bottle until the clear liquid has thoroughly covered the entire plastic surface. “Should we get our bikinis?”

“Nah, screw those. Bikinis are for public pools.” Yuqi starts to unzip her top and jumps out of her pants. “At home, with my girls, I don’t want to wear clothes!”

“Oh~” Miyeon coos and Minnie can see that horny glint in her eyes. “I love that! Let me get undressed too.”

Minnie looks at them for a second, their bodies being revealed piece by piece, bare and completely spotless. Yuqi is a perfectionist when it comes to her own nude body, but at the same time, she does not give a single fuck about other people’s short comings. She just loves nudity, and so Minnie isn’t the only one starring when Miyeon gracefully removes her tight crop-top and moves her hips in quick circles until her black shorts fall down. 

“I see you came prepared,” Yuqi says in excitement, because of the lack of underwear on Miyeon’s stunning frame.

“I still have the bikini in my bag, but—

“I kinda knew you wouldn’t want to see it.”

A heat is rising up inside Minnie. No anger or annoyance can keep it down anymore; the arousal is too great, irresistible, like the sight of Miyeon and Yuqi flopping into the pool. The lube flies everywhere, most importantly on their legs, their chests, their hair, their bellies, their feet—Minnie does not notice the mess being made. 

She is depraved and horny, the way she tears off her jeans and top is chaotic, unplanned. Minnie has become a mess by just looking at her friends. Luckily, Yuqi does not notice. She's too busy with Miyeon and getting her fingers all over the elder’s skin. That is until Minnie bursts in and disrupts them, putting real strain on the edges of the plastic pool.

“Hey, watch out,” both Yuqi and Miyeon laugh. “You’re about to break it.”

“I- I don’t care! You two are being too loud, I need to shut you up a bit.” Minnie’s rebuttal is weak, because Yuqi gets a hand on her hairy cunt and starts to rub all over it.

“Oh, you want to shut us up by destroying this pool? Makes sense, makes sense.” Miyeon giggles and adds. “I think our friend here is tripping a bit. Tell us, Mi~nnie~

“How do you want to make us shut up?”

Minnie has never felt this ferocious, it’s like the spirit of a savage, unchained animal has overcome her. She wraps her entire arm around Yuqi’s tiny waist and spins her around. The small woman is still laughing, but with two lube-drenched fingers straight into her tight cunt, she is now Minnie’s prisoner. A happy prisoner, who quietly moans and hums with every curl the digits in her pussy make.

“Oh my~” Miyeon gasps and intently watches on as Minnie squeezes Yuqi tightly and makes sure to never stop pumping into that wet cavern. Yuqi still thinks this is all fun and games and tries to kiss Minnie, but the Thai girl goes straight for Yuqi’s neck and marks it with a frantic bite.

“Mi-Minnie, what the—I never knew you liked—”

“How about you shut your pretty mouth up and get on all fours? 

“Now.”

Yuqi twitches around Minnie’s fingers when she hears this command. After a bit of slipping and falling she finds herself in the suggested position with Minnie’s hand cupping her labia and slowly rubbing lube across it. Yuqi arches her back, eyes closed to intensely feel every touch on her folds, then inside her pussy when Minnie decides to penetrate her once more. Miyeon gasps again.

“How about you lay down too, pretty?” Minnies suggest to Miyeon who needs a few seconds to wake up from her slumber and lay down into the slippery mess. She instinctively opens up her beautiful legs when Minnie’s hand approaches her, then the girliest of moans leaves her lips when her cunt gets filled. 

Minnie’s heart is pumping up to her head, knocking on her brain and she loses all her senses except for touch on her fingertips, which become drenched in arousal. Every thrust, it doesn’t matter if they are hard or soft, makes her greedy, as if this scenario wasn’t enough. She has everything a girl could ever want, but now she needs more. 

Minnie needs Yuqi to ruin herself—which happens sooner than she could’ve ever dreamed of. Yuqi’s ass moves on its own, her hips slam backwards and swallow every inch of Minnie’s flicking fingers and when three of them finally pierce her pussy open, she cums. Face buried in ridiculous amounts of lube, Yuqi groans and trembles and falls over, eyes rolled into the back of her head—that’s what Minnie wanted. But her greed doesn’t stop.

She looks at Miyeon, her pout, her need for release in this slippery mess right in the middle of this living room—Yuqi will have to clean it meticulously afterwards, because Minnie plants her puffy pussy right on Miyeon’s and starts to wildly rub it over her. Minnie knows that Miyeon is quite familiar with scissoring, this is definitely no first for her, but she nonetheless reacts to it like a virgin. She desperately holds onto Minnie’s hip and through a voice broken by moans begs her to go slower. 

“Should I really go slower?” Minnie teases when Miyeon starts to grab her waist and bite her lip. Her face is so eerily perfect with all the wet lube and sweat on it, the blush that isn’t faint but blunt and bright. “Don’t you want to cum with your pussy, pretty princess?”

And then Minnie just continues, her hips slam down, against those aroused folds. She also makes use of her hands, spreading lube all over Miyeon’s boobs, midriff, down to the hard nub that looks like it’s about to explode if just—

Someone would—

“Not there, not there, Mi-Minnie, I’m about to—”

Minnie plays with it, rubs the clit side to side and Miyeon bursts into a loud and wet orgasm that has the pool suddenly filled with lube and girl juice. Minnie still doesn’t stop, instead she squeezes out every last second of Miyeon’s high by squeezing her breasts and squeezing more lube over her feet, which Yuqi is already eagerly playing with, in trance at the taste of Miyeon’s soles.

“Gosh, she looks so hot,” Yuqi whispers at the sight of Miyeon, who cannot escape the overstimulation. There is just no grip on anything, it’s like the entire universe wants her to glide back to Minnie and her pervy hands. Hands that can’t stop groping her, covering her in so much lube, she feels too heavy to fight back. 

“You’re one to talke,” Minnie responds and raises an eyebrow when Yuqi dares to look back at her. “She went down fairly easily, but I know I need more with you.”

Yuqi smirks and like the angelic devil on Minnie’s shoulder leans in and hums:

“Then give me more.”

It’s hard to tell if Yuqi regrets her witty remark or if this was the actual reaction she wanted. In the blink of an eye, she finds herself below Minnie, in the deepest mix of cum, sweat and lube she has ever been in. Minnie immediately goes for her limits, grabbing her ankles and folding her in half while looking absolutely unamused.

“I know you can fold like a lawn chair,” she snarks and Yuqi gasps when her heels are almost level with her eyes. “So you better keep this up, because I won’t stop.”

“Wha-what are you trying—?”

“You’ve never had it like this, huh?”

Minnie crashes her hairy cunt right on Yuqi’s perfect slit. The slap is loud, the sting is painful at first, but Yuqi gets no time to scream because Minnie just continues. She rides her fat lips all over Yuqi’s shaven crotch, spreads her arousal to add more wetness, to glide better.

Glide she does. Yuqi has to take deep breaths that quickly turn to moans every time Minnie glides over her clit. Back and forth is great, left and right is excellent, Yuqi’s mind starts to spin in the same rhythm that Minnie’s pussy spins. That is until she goes up and back down. That’s too much to handle. Yuqi’s nails dig into Minnie’s elbows and she can see the Thai girl only through tear filled orbs.

Hottest of all: Minnie shows no reaction to this athletic feat. She just leans down, lips right on Yuqi’s, but instead of kissing her, she spouts dumb, dirty bullshit that has Yuqi in an ultimate frenzy.

“You never had a girl take you missionary. I fucking know, because I always hear them moan, not you. You think you’re such a player, Yuqi, the girl that gets all the bitches—that’s over now. Now you’re my bitch and I will fuck you like it. You will cum on this hairy pussy and then I’ll make you clean it up.

“Do you understand?”

“Y-yesh, Ma’am!”

Yuqi whines, Minnie smirks.

“Good. That was easy, didn’t know you could be so submissive. I think you should get an orgasm, slut.”

As predicted, the final thrust starts of Yuqi’s climax, one that lasts for a while. While not as messy as Miyeon’s, Minnie can see how intense it was for the smaller woman below her. Yuqi is a fucked mess, messy hair, messy pussy, messy face, something that can surely be a seat in the future—nah, fuck the future. Yuqi won’t always be her bitch, might as well—

“I think you’re learning your place.” Minnie gives Yuqi some time to adjust her posture, time Minnie spends on a quick look at Miyeon, who is busy stimulating her nipples to the sight of what happened in front of her. Minnie has no clue how and if to include her; an issue for later. “Now eat me.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #idol x idol smut #gidle smut #minnie smut #yuqi smut #miyeon smut

[user2772636]

Puppy Love

A pissed golden boy

《♡》《♡》《♡》

《♡》《♡》《♡》

When the school's golden boy finds a list about a few girls in his class (which include you), all hell breaks loose. You decide you think he looks adorable mad.

》》》

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: screaming match, boys being boys, swearing, loads amount of fluff

Modern-ish!AU (They're still in highschool tho)

》》》

》》》

A list. That's where it all started. One list. And your name. It started there, too.

You might be wondering what started. Here's how it goes.

The year was 2001. Voltaire High was filled with students roaming around the corridors talking about their day, the exams coming up, summer, and more. You were one of the students. Your friends were, too.

"Ugh, I can't wait for summer to start. I need to get out of this sweat polluted hell hole called school." Simone gags as you all walk past some boys who just got out of gym class. You and Michèle laugh.

"I can't wait for summer to start because-"

"Your boyfriend is finally all yours." You and Simone finish Michèle's sentence in a mocking tone, burting out after a few seconds. You see Michèle roll her eyes with a smile.

"Well, atleast I have a boyfriend for this summer. What do you guys have?" She shrugs, and Simone is quick to butt in.

"Well, I, for one, have your brother." Michèle shoves Simone away, scoffing in surprise.

"Be glad I was calm about it. I was ready to smash your heads together when I found out." They tease and laugh around. They both turn to look at you.

"That leaves you, Y/N." A smile starts forming on their faces again. "Any luck with the golden boy?"

Joseph Descamps. Also known as Voltaire High's "Golden Boy". He was tall, athletic, smart, basically perfect, hence the nickname.

Joseph walks down the stairwell with his friends, laughing like dogs, so loud the whole school could hear. But who cares?

He was on his way to the courtyard when he overhears something. Paper crumpling and getting passed around. Whispers and such. He pays no mind to it, thinking they were just talking about the tests.

It was break time, so they did whatever after.

》》》

You lean against your hand in class, trying not to fall asleep right then and there. It was so boring you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.

Joseph was glancing towards you, chuckling at how adorable you were dropping your head and catching it in a loop. He licks his lips, trying to bring his focus back on the discussion, but his eyes keep lingering towards you again and again.

Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper flies in the air. It lands right on his desk, and he immediately gets it in his hands. Some of his classmates roam around him as he unfolds it, revealing ink scribbled down.

On top, it read "VOLTAIR HIGH BEAUTIES RANKED." There were ten rankings. He read through them. In first place was Annick, their classmate who currently wasn't in this class. The next few were some of the girls from other grades. But on ninth is what shocked him.

Your name was written. There was a sidenote that said, "already targeted; stay away or try." What does that even mean? Do you have a boyfriend he doesn't know about?

His thoughts begun to roam, and then the bell rings. Students rush out the door, but he's quicker. He rushes to the stairwell, hanging off before screaming.

"Hey!" The people walking stop, looking up at him. He begins to get nervous, voice shivering, but he tries to toughen up. He notices your eyes on him, and he thinks maybe he can't do this. But he does.

"Why the fuck is there a list of the girls from here? Are they some kind of joke to you? Go look at yourselves before thinking about what other people look like!" He exclaims, throwing both his arms up in frustration.

"And why is Y/N on ninth? Ninth? Are you all serious? She's supposed to be in first, in my opinion!" He doesn't even realise he said that till everyones eyes turned to you. But you kept your eyes on him. Even if he was almost a hundred feet away, the way you looked at him right then made his knees weak and throat as dry as sahara.

Then, when he least expected it, almost everyone in the stairwell said, "We know!"

He freezes up, looking around. They're all just staring at him, dead pan. One of his friends, Dupin, walks up to him.

"Just fucking talk to her already. Go." Dupin pushes Joseph to the actual staircase. Joseph gulps, adjusting his shirt. The whole time, everyone stares. He keeps his eyes on the ground, scared he'll trip and fall and embarass himself. Especially infront of you.

When he makes it to you, he wipes his face. He clears his throat, but before he speaks, he looks around again.

"What are you looking at? Go home!" Everyone statts wlaking again, and he hears you laugh quietly. His cheeks flush.

You nod to Simone and Michèle, indicating them to go and that you'll tell them everything later. You turn back to Joseph.

"Hi." You say, smiling up at him. You fidget with the coat inbetween your arms.

"Hi." He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You stay quiet for a bit before you cut the silence.

"First place huh? You really think so?" You ask him, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

His head shoots up, looking at you with an even redder face than before.

"Yeah... I mean, who wouldn't think that?" He flashes his teeth, and he's so adorably awkward compared to his façade when he needs to be the golden boy.

"Well, everyone did. Everyone but you." You look down at the floor, trying to keep your smile smaller to avoid showing him how giddy you are.

"Yeah, everyone but me." The awkward silences make you cringe, but you're too happy about this to cast him down.

The next sentence included both of you speaking at the same time. You two laughed it off, and from then, he asked you out. That's when it really started. Earlier was the beginning. But this, now, was the start. There's a difference, okay?

You guess you do have a boy this summer. And he's as bright as the sun. He's the golden boy.

》》》

Guess what? It's 5,30 am here, and i finished this in 30 mins (im losing my mind) ANWWW i hope this is good enough sorry for taking so long w this

#joseph descamps #joseph descamps x reader #mixte1963 #fanfic #reader insert #michèle magnan #simone palladino #golden boy #theyre so cute #fluff

[deancas-brainrot]

AU where Cas becomes the new Death

he takes the place instead of Billie,, where cas ends up dying in the barn (the episode where they were after one of the yellow-eyed demons in season 12 I think) so Dean goes into widower mode right??? so then a few weeks/months pass by, and Dean gets a little too reckless and ends up getting seriously hurt. Sam tries to be like, "we can make a deal, do a spell. we can save you i promise." But because Dean is still in widower mode, he's just ready to die bcuz he doesn't care. So imma bring back that thing from season 1 where you can see a reaper if you're on the verge of Death. So Dean's kinda just, laying on the ground accepting his Death, while Sam is sobbing over him, trying to get him to stay awake. Then before Dean's vision gives out, he sees cas. "Cas..?" Dean weakly lifts his arm to point out into the empty room. "Dean what are you talking about?" Then Dean watches Cas press his fingers to his forehead and... suddenly he's not dying. He sits upright so fast that he feels a little light-headed. His eyes bat around the room. "What the hell just happened?? Dean?" Sam is trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. Dean just sits up on his elbows, mouth ajar, dumbfounded. It was Cas. But Cas is dead. Yet there he was, standing right before Dean, saving him yet again. Dean explains what he saw to Sam, and Sam only half belives him "Dude you were dying ,it was probably your mind playing tricks on you," Sam tries to reason. "No Sam, it Was Cas. Really. I mean yea he looked a little different, but i'm 100% sure it was him." He tells Sam that Cas wore an all-black suit, accompanied by a black trench coat. And he held a scythe. A few weeks pass by, and Sam and Dean stumble on a case that turns out to be bigger than it seems. Anyone that has ever associated with the Winchesters (in a good way) have been spared. They're being watched over by what seems to be an angel, but what angel would care enough to do that? The idea of Cas flashes in Dean's mind, but for certain reasons, he doesn't bring it up to Sam. It's uncanny, really. Their friends and family are being spared, and Sam and Dean want to find what's doing that and kill it. To keep the order as natural as possible, I guess. Sam keeps on trying to convince his brother that this is a good thing and that they should leave well enough alone. And Dean almost agrees, but then people they've ever associated with (in a bad way) start dropping like flies. It looks like natural deaths at first, but then the deaths seem to be more brutal as time goes on. "They're hunters Dean, it's just part of the job." Maybe Sam's right, but Dean can't shake the thought that it might be something else. He thinks of Cas again. Dean hasn't told Sam but, every time they've been on a hunt, and people have died, Dean had always caught a glimpse of Cas right before a person died. Like there was this one hunt they were on where a Djinn had captured a teenage girl. After they killed the Djinn, the girl wouldn't wake up all the way. She had lost a lot of blood. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled weakly at Sam and Dean, before dying. Dean had felt a chill run up his neck, he looked up from the floor and, for a second, saw Castiel standing over the girl with a sad smile. When he blinked, Cas was gone. After following the case for a couple of weeks, the brothers hit a dead end. As a last resort, they decide that they need to summon Death (whoever the new Death is because Dean killed the old Death when he had the Mark of Cain) The ritual was hard, but they succeeded. They waited maybe 2 or 3 minutes. Then the room went cold, and Castiel appeared. "Hello Dean," he greeted blankly. Dean sputters, and his mouth falls open. Sam stares at the used-to-be angel with wide eyes. "Cas," Sam speaks first. "We thought... You were dead. How..?" "I cannot provide you with an explanation that you'll understand." "What's that supposed to mean?" Dean barks, any sense of relief or joy, was immediately placed with anger. Cas stared at him blankly. "Cas what the hell! We thought you were dead! We-" Dean glanced over at Sam- "I tried to bring you back! I prayed to you Cas! And just when I think maybe I can't bring you back, and that you're really gone for good, you're here!" "I understand that you're angry," the new Death squinted slightly, analyzing Dean. "That you're hurt. To be honest, I'm not 100% sure what even happened." Then suddenly, the realization hits Sam. They were trying to summon Death. And Cas appears instead. "Cas are you Death?" Sam asks outright. "Yes." He replies deadpan.

Lol ok wanna watch me do a flip

"Who are you?" Dean barks. Cas hangs his head. "Dean, it's me," he tries to reassure. Dean chokes out a half-laugh. "Cas is dead." He says sourly, then he shakes his head. "Dean..." "Now I'll ask nicely one more time, who are you." Instead of answering, Castiel lets his shoulders fall and looks to Sam. The younger Winchester is staring at him, wide-eyed. "You're Death," he says, astonished. Castiel's eyes illuminate as he nods. Dean presses his lips into a tight line. His face hardens before he shifts his attention toward Sam. "Ok so Death is wearing Cas's face," his stomach curls, "doesn't mean it's him." Dean turns his head back at Death, he squints suspiciously at him. "Dean, will you please let me out of the sumoning circle?" Cas looks to the floor then back at Dean. "Dammit!" Dean turns and kicks the table. The leg breaks and everything used to summon the Reaper crashes onto the concrete floor. An aggravated frown creeps onto his face. "You're not him! Alright!?" He steps so close to the circle, he's threatening to enter. Castiel's face is blank. Hot, angry, tears begin to well up in Dean's eyes. Then, the dam breaks. He steps inside the circle and grabs a fistful of Cas's shirt. "I pray to you everynight you bastard! I was chasing my own damn tail trying to get you back, when you're already alive and well!?" He pulls Castiel close. "And then me and Sam have to summon you for you to show your face." Dean scoffs and shoves Cas away. Sam grabs his brother and pulls him out of the circle and off to the side. Cas fixes his shirt quickly. "You have to understand, in the position I'm in, I have responsibilities now. I can't be here like I used to. I am-" "Death," Dean finishes sharply for him. "Yeah I get it. Whatever."

#deancas #destiel #castiel #castiel novak #dean #dean winchester #sam #sam winchester #jensen ackles #jared paladecki #misha collins #reaper #grim reaper #ReaperAU #DestielReaperAU

[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon #is this dramatic enough #hope it isn't too messy n_n'

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

#bnha 313 #midoriya izuku #lady nagant #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

[takamikeiigos]

• though keigo tends to be loud, seemingly carefree, and outgoing, he's convinced himself that hero work is his #1 priority and he has zero time to be getting all up in a tizzy about feelings

• this man probably doesn't even know what a long, meaningful hug feels like. but what does it matter because he's a hero, he doesn't have time to be mulling over that kinda stuff

• now don't get me wrong, keigo has all of the basic human wants and needs for love, affection, companionship, etc. but has managed to tuck those thoughts away deep in the back of his mind

• so he spends his free time alone watching movies by himself while eating takeout, or finding somewhere high on the skyline to perch upon while the breeze caresses him and gives him comfort while he's deep in his thoughts

• when it comes to his avian characteristics and needs, he knows many people don't understand so he tends to them himself

• long tiresome processes of preening his own wings, often getting aggravated when he can't reach a spot or can't get certain feathers to lay flat

• or when it's that time of the season and he continuously chooses to go through his ruts alone because he hasn't allowed himself time to slow down and properly take care of it, because he grew up too fast and exploring his own wants and needs was never an option

• let's talk about keigo nesting during a rut bc of pure instinct but suddenly coming to the harsh reality that he has no one to share it with

• ouch

• imagine the first time he meets you

• you think he's probably the most loud and obnoxious motherfucker you've ever met but he grows on you over time

• its only after spending a bit of time by his side that you realize little things about him that kinda break your heart

• he smiles and jokes around a lot, but when you catch him deep in thought or slipping you notice the vacant stares that make him seem far, far away

• or the fact that he doesn't touch people unless they prompt first, whether it's a high five or a pat on the shoulder, but his hands mostly remain in his pockets or by his sides otherwise

• so it breaks your heart even more when you go to give him a quick hug before checking out for the day and he completely tenses up, clearly not sure how to react

• it occupies most of your thoughts that night, before it finally dawns on you that keigo didn't reciprocate because he didn't know how to (not literally, of course)

• from then on you touch him more often - like gently putting your hand on his shoulder when you're reaching over him, or placing your hand on the small of his back when moving around him

• over-all you're in his space more, always standing a few inches closer so your shoulders touch or your hands brush

• but let's talk about that one time you both go on a mission together and keigo gets knocked around a lil bit

• you're finally able to catch up to him and the idiot is standing there covered in bruises, feathers missing and his hero outfit almost torn to shreds, and he has the audacity to smile at you like he didn't just get knocked into next week

• he tenses again when you run up to him and pull him into a frantic hug, worry ebbing from your entire being but grateful that he's still standing and alive

• but the exhaustion finally catches up to him and its then that his wall comes crashing down, his arms wrapping around you like he's clinging to you for dear life, and his head is resting on your shoulder, coming free of all those heavy thoughts he's been carrying with him

• things slowly change after that

• months later you two end up together, like two pieces of a puzzle that were lost but finally found, a relief of a perfect fit

• he texts you constantly - whether it's of things that remind him of you, or a picture of a cat he saw while on patrols, or even just to let you know you mean the world to him

• when you’re both together he almost always ends up being the one to initiate physical contact now, staying close in your space and his hand always rest against you

• on nights after a long day of patrolling, he'll come over and you'll put a movie on, cuddling close together on the couch while eating the most unhealthy junk food you could find to take the edge off

• you catch him smiling to himself one of those times, and when you look at him curiously, he shakes his head and laughs quietly

• "'s nothing baby bird, just nice to finally have someone to do this with"

• on another tiresome evening of patrolling, he flies through your bedroom window (you always leave it unlocked and open for him) and perches on your windowsill

• you can instantly tell something is bothering him by the way he's holding himself, his wings twitching and his body tense

• so you beckon him to come sit on your bed with you, thinking maybe a back rub will ease the tension. but when he finally sits down in front of you, the disarray of tangled feathers is the answer to your unasked questions

• you tell him to relax and he does, but when you hesitantly run your fingers against his feathers he nearly jumps out of his skin

• you pull your hand away as if it was burned and when you ask if you accidentally hurt him, he flushes and avoids eye contact

• "no! no, you didn't hurt me. they're just.. sensitive. 'm just not used to people touching them like that. but it.. it feels good"

• so you continue running your fingers through his feathers gently, making sure they're all in place and pulling the loose ones from his wings

• he’s all breathy sighs underneath your hands and you swear you hear him cooing every once in a while and your heart melts at the amount of intimacy and trust

• it turns into a ritual after rough days, and neither of you mind it

《《 NSFW 》》

• so look, i’m not saying keigo is a virgin but we're gonna keep going with this little needy & touch starved trend we got going. to each their own

• keigo loves being touched, but he also loves touching you

• i’m talking always pressing up against you when you’re both alone, face nuzzled in your neck while biting and licking, hands on your hips and squeezing

• clinging to you when you’re about to get out of bed, or sneaking into the shower with you bc he misses your warmth and is craving some skin on skin contact, his head nuzzled into your shoulder and his arms wrapped around you from behind

• tbh he’s probably still half asleep as he does this, too. you basically have him completely limp in your arms when you turn to start scrubbing his hair

• i’m getting a little off topic, huh?

• he’s always trying to get your attention, especially when he knows you’re busy

• he’s almost always breathless when things get hot and heavy, nearly falling apart over a make-out session

• but when you finally get him out of his clothes and on the bed where you want him, the experience is one you want to relive forever

• he’s got this wonton facial expression, chest flushed and wings puffed out, lips parted with unspoken pleas as you touch him

• the first time you even touch his dick he nearly loses it, head tossed back and fingers gripping the sheets

• "fuck.. fuck that feels so good dove, please don't stop"

• he’s so sensitive, his skin feels like it might burst into flames because of how worked-up he's getting

• the sight of him falling apart from a simple hand job is a sight to see, something you weren't expecting to get you going but it is

• you stroke him slow, your grip just loose enough where he ends up having to work for it, all the while you're gauging his expressions

• keigo is a talker, loud and completely unashamed of the filth pouring from his lips as he fucks up into your fist, his jaw slack and his brown pinched in pleasure and concentration

• "please baby, right there. god, you feel so fucking good, please don't stop. fuuuuck"

• when you decide to touch his wings out of sheer curiosity, you weren't expecting to his reaction to turn you on as much as it did

• keigo arching off the bed with a broken "f-fuck!", yanking you forward into a harsh kiss as he moans broken please and appraisals into your mouth, whining

• he finally comes in thick spurts over your hand, his hips stuttering as he thrusts upward to milk the final drops of his come, chest heaving and breathy pants falling against your lips, his hands tangled in your hair

• touch starved, needy, and sensitive

don't get me started on my man's going into a rut. whoo, good stuff.

sorry this is so long!! i got very carried away once i got into it.

if anyone wants to request anything, please do?? i would love that, especially since I'm trying to learn more about this beautiful bird-boy. nonetheless i hope y'all enjoyed!!

♡ ky

#keigo takami #bnha hawks #bnha keigo takami #mha hawks #mha keigo takami #hawks headcanons #keigo takami headcanons #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #takamikeiigos #ky writes #headcanons #bnha #hawks

[lokislastlove]

Come One, Come All! (Dark!Loki x reader) p.2

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, Knife play, Oral (m&f), Smut, Bondage, Kidnapping

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: Here is part 2, for those who have taken a chance on my trash, thank you so much!! I hope I don’t disappoint. ❤️

Chapter 2:

You feel your chest seize and you start to shake as your heart rate skyrockets, your body and mind dissolving into a full blown panic attack as you feel around the black box imprisoning you. You are only locked in for a minute before you hear rustling outside and you are thrown into the wall as the whole box shifts and turns.

“What the fuck. Oh my god, someone help! Please let me out!” Your voice cracks as your pleading grows more desperate with each passing minute.

You try to hold out hope that it’s a prank or part of the experience but after what you were sure had to be at least ten minutes of begging to possibly no one, you sag in defeat. Your eyes burn with hot tears, the temperature inside the box rising the longer you sit there. Stewing in silence and sweat, you listen to anything that might tell you where you have been moved to but the joyful bustle of the carnival fades early on.

You fall asleep hunched at the bottom of the box, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You don’t know for how long but you are awoken roughly as the box tips over sending you face first into the solid surface. You grunt and stretch out, turning to lay on your back.

“Open it” you hear faintly.

The wall above you is ripped off instantly by a singular muscular arm. Startled, you gasp but manage to hold in the pathetic squeak when you look up into piercing blue eyes shrouded in unruly golden hair. Your own eyes widening as you take in the sheer mass of this man.

The muscles under his sun-kissed skin ripple as he huffs and stands straight. He scratches his bearded jaw, looking over to the darker figure you could barely see standing across from him.

“Yes I can see why you liked this one. Inquisitive eyes. A bit of fire in there, yes?” The hulking blond man raises a brow and smirks at you.

Had you not been in your current situation he would have been the type of man you could drool over for days. But considering the fact that you appear to be kidnapped, his physique only enhances your trepidation.

“Where the fuck am I?” You demand, fighting your soft-spoken nature.

“Yeah, there’s that fire” the large man chuckles deeply. “Want me to put her on the wall?” He asks looking back to his silent counterpart.

“The wall?” You mutter, panic rising again at the prospect of being ‘put’ anywhere.

“Yes, then you may go. Thank you , Thor” The darker mans voice drones, sounding bored.

The larger man, Thor, leans down and goes to grab you, making you scream and try to slap away his arms which is clearly ineffective, considering his bicep is the size of your head. He grabs your wrists easily and pulls you to your feet, you try going limp but he hardly seems to notice as he drags you out of the box. You start kicking and flailing wildly as he tosses you against a hard flat wooden surface attached to the wall. You sob as he takes one of your arms and stretches it straight out and snaps a mounted metal cuff around your wrist. You reach over with your free hand and try to unclasp the lock but he catches you and stretches the other arm out to the other side, rendering you completely helpless.

Arms spread wide, you feel exposed and vulnerable, especially when he traces his hand over your breasts before stepping away. That’s when you finally look at the thing you are mounted to. A circular wooden board painted red and white like a giant target, with you at the center.

“What the hell is this?” You tremble.

“Ankles too, for now” the dark suited man directs from across the room.

“Oh, well aren’t you a lucky girl” Thor chuckles under his breath before kneeling down and spreading your legs, attaching each to a similar iron restraint.

“Please. Please let me go” you plead softly to the bulky blond as he stands straight and smiles at you.

Thor brushes his thumb under your eye, catching a stray tear before sucking it into his mouth and humming.

“So sweet.” He praises before winking at you and leaving the room.

Your eyes settle on the lithe figure facing away from you. He’s tall and although he’s not as thick as Thor, you can tell he doesn’t lack strength either. He sheds his jacket and lays it neatly across the desk in front of him.

“If this is s-some sort of joke, it’s not funny” you stutter.

You watch in horror as he slowly turns to look at you, leaning back on his desk and crossing his ankles.

“You’re a clever girl, does this feel like a prank to you, darling?” His voice is as smooth as silk.

“Why are you doing this? Where are my friends?” You question, dreading the answer.

“Oh they will make fine prizes for the highest bidder. But you, darling… you caught my attention.” He explains blithely, slowly unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

“Lucky me” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him as a wave of anger washes over you at the mention of your friends.

“Indeed.” He smiles cruelly.

“I swear to god if you hurt my friends –“ you fume before getting cut off suddenly.

You barely see the silver glint as something small whizzes through the air toward your head. A sharp silver blade sinks into the board next to your head, the shock causing you to choke on a gasp. It was mere inches away from your eye.

“Care to threaten me again?” He smirks, holding another knife in his right hand, the sharp point of it delicately pressing into the middle finger of his left hand.

You gulp as your body shakes uncontrollably, your life seemed to flash before your eyes in that moment. How did he throw that so fast, you say to yourself, the target behind you making more sense now. You shake your head in response to his question, voice lost amongst the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Very well” he nods once, with a small smile.

Your eyes are glued to the dagger in his hand, as he flourishes it about casually. Your muscles tense every time he tosses it gently in the air before catching it.

“Now, I want to know how you solved those riddles so quickly today” he asks lightly before throwing another dagger, this one splintering the wood inches away on the other side of your head. “And no lies.”

You squeak and close your eyes, body trembling so badly you aren’t sure how to form words anymore.

“I – I don’t know. I just did.” You manage to stammer out. “Please stop.”

Another dagger flies through the air, landing with a thud between your thighs.

“Oh my god, please! Please” you cry.

“You know some people could figure out one, maybe two, within the time limit. Most just get the answers from those who went before them. Others just come back repeatedly, mindlessly searching for the keys. But you… such a clever girl” he purred, pushing himself away from the desk still clutching another knife.

“You can hardly blame me for being curious” he continues, taking slow steps toward you.

He stops before you, admiring your terrified expression before dropping his eyes down your body. You pull on the restraints and shift in discomfort at his close proximity. He smiles as his eyes connect once more with your own, his pupils blown wide.

“I’m sorry, okay. I wasn’t trying to – I won’t ever do it again. Just please let me and my friends go,” you beg.

You watch him smirk and sniff at your pathetic pleas, both fully aware you have nothing to offer. He turns and calmly walks back to his desk.

“Ugh let me go you fucking creep! What do you want from me?” Anger and panic causing you to lash out desperately.

He turns and flings another dagger at you, but this time you feel a sharp pain under your arm. You look over to see the dagger pinning your shirt to the board, slowly staining with blood.

“Oh my god!” You scream shifting your arm away from the dagger. “You cut me!”

“Barely more than a scratch. You’ll survive.” He assured you coolly with a roll of his eyes.

You feel the slow flow of warmth trickle down the underside of your arm and you whimper as you watch him near you again. He stops in front of you and pulls the dagger from the board, releasing your shirt. He admires the blade for a moment and then reaches out to you, making you flinch away. His eyes flare at your reaction and he tuts disapprovingly.

“This shirt, however…” he mocks, sliding the sharp end of the blade under the hem of the fabric along your stomach, “I’m afraid it will not.”

You gasp as he brings the knife up cutting through the flimsy material with barely any resistance. You cry as the cool air breezes over your exposed stomach. The useless cloth hanging loosely off your arms.

“Better” he coos his appraisal, as he glides the tip of the knife from your neck to your navel.

Your chest heaves as the reality set in like a boulder dropping in your stomach. You can’t believe this is how your ‘fun night out’ is going. Cursing your luck as you wonder why the hell your intelligence only seemed to lead you to trouble and scummy men.

“All of this because I solved your stupid riddles” you gripe, shaking your head in bitter disbelief.

“Stupid?” He repeats, his face twisting in disgust at the insult.

“Yeah, what is it? You have a problem with women smarter than you? No, that can’t be it, you’d have to be used to that by now.” You sneer.

You don’t know where this boldness is coming from, but something about this man makes you angry, and you figure, what do I have to lose?

His face twists in anger and he slams the dagger into the wall above your head. Your head is now caged in by three sharp knives and yet you suppress a flinch.

“That, wasn’t so smart, darling.” His lip curls in amusement as he backs off slightly and grips the rounded edge of the board spinning it until you are hanging upside down.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

[bloody-bee-tea]

Shimmering

Jiang Cheng hates to admit it, but he’s nervous. There’s no real reason for it, because the people in his department are nice enough, but he can’t help himself.

Going out for them with a drink is different than working together with them after all.

He guesses the only good thing about this is that Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue will be there as well and he knows them a little bit better already after all.

Both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang have been incredibly nice to Jiang Cheng, helping him settle in after he decided to leave his father’s company—and therefor the family—and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know where he would be right now if it weren’t for them.

He knows Nie Huaisang a little bit better than Nie Mingjue, having somehow hit it off with Nie Huaisang but he knows enough about Nie Mingjue to know that he is everything his employees praise him about and then some.

Jiang Cheng guesses going for a drink with them will not be so bad.

He decides to be the designated driver for the evening though, because he doesn’t trust himself and his competitive streak when it comes to alcohol one bit and he doesn’t actually want to make a bad impression on any of his co-workers.

He shouldn’t have worried about that, though, he realizes somewhere around the three hour mark.

This evening is fun and even though Jiang Cheng isn’t drinking the good mood of the others is contagious and soon enough he’s pretty sure that you couldn’t tell the difference between the drunk ones and him.

It does help that Nie Mingjue keeps by his side all evening, Jiang Cheng has to admit that.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Jiang Cheng says at one point, leaning over a bit so he can at least pretend that it’s a private conversation.

“I’m not, though,” Nie Mingjue gives back with a smile and Jiang Cheng notices with a start that he has laughter lines around his eyes.

He never noticed that before.

“Really, now?” Jiang Cheng asks, the disbelieve clear in his voice and Nie Mingjue smiles even more, adding the dimples to the laughter lines.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. You seemed tense when we first went out,” he tells him with a shrug and Jiang Cheng has to duck his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“I’m alright,” he lowly tells Nie Mingjue who nods and then puts a hand to Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yes, you are,” he gives back and then turns back to the table at large.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little bit longer to fully get back into the swing but when he does Nie Mingjue raises his glass at him and Jiang Cheng clinks their glasses together.

Nie Mingjue is smiling a lot this evening and Jiang Cheng can’t seem to take his eyes off him.

He had always known that Nie Mingjue is a very attractive man—only a blind person wouldn’t see that with one look—but now it’s the little things he keeps noticing about him. Like the laughter lines. Or the dimples. Or the way he slightly cocks his head when he listens to someone and the way he tries to give all of them the same attention.

Over the course of the evening Jiang Cheng also realizes that Nie Mingjue’s teeth are very straight and very white and from that point on it’s nearly impossible to take his eyes off Nie Mingjue.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little while longer to realize that beneath the perpetual tan Nie Mingjue seems to sport there are freckles to be found.

They are dusted all across his cheeks and nose and Jiang Cheng has to fight the urge to do something stupid.

He has never seen a man this attractive and he doesn’t even know where it’s coming from because he wasn’t that smitten with Nie Mingjue when he first met him. Or just four hours ago.

But Nie Mingjue keeps smiling at him, keeps including Jiang Cheng into the group even though for once in his life Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel like he’s struggling in a group at all, and it all does nothing but start a low simmering heat in his stomach.

Jiang Cheng tries to stick more to Nie Huaisang after that, because he can’t be fucking this up, can’t give in to something that’s probably unrequited and could potentially fuck up his job but even then it’s still a lot of fun.

They are out until the very early morning hours and Jiang Cheng feels drunk on happiness and the company.

It was a great evening.

He’s still whistling under his breath, walking towards the car, the people he’s supposed to drive home already a little ahead of him, the shimmering moonlight the only light to guide his way right now, when suddenly Nie Mingjue calls out for him.

“Hey, Wanyin, wait,” he says, and he tries to sprint up to Jiang Cheng though the alcohol in his system clearly makes it a little bit difficult.

“Mingjue, careful,” Jiang Cheng says, reaching out to steady Nie Mingjue when he comes to a stop in front of him.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Nie Mingjue asks and he looks so earnestly concerned at Jiang Cheng that he can’t help but to smile.

It prompts Nie Mingjue to smile as well and Jiang Cheng is yet again struck by how incredibly beautiful he is. It doesn’t help at all that he’s also a genuinely nice person and Jiang Cheng enjoys his company.

“I’m very sure. I didn’t drink, remember.”

“Yeah, but it’s late and you must be tired.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng says, though he can feel the tiredness creep in now that they all broke up and he doesn’t have the energy of the group to keep him awake anymore.

“Are you sure?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly still concerned. “Can you text me when you’re home? I just want to make sure you got there safely.”

“Of course I can,” Jiang Cheng says and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I’ll text you.”

“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and then has to hurry back when Nie Huaisang yells for him.

Jiang Cheng watches after him, a smile playing around his lips before he gets into the car. His co-workers must not have noticed the little exchange because no one says anything and Jiang Cheng drops each of them off as quickly as he can, the tiredness now creeping up on him as well.

He’s actually glad when the last person leaves his car and he can finally drive home.

Once he’s there, he suddenly feels like he’s been hit over the head with a hammer—or as if he drank a lot of alcohol, which he didn’t—and the only thought on his mind is to get into bed as fast as he can.

He forgets his phone in his jacket.

~*~*~

When Jiang Cheng wakes up he feels like shit. He can barely open his eyes and he feels like he could sleep for at least another whole day, but one look at the time tells him that it’s already nearing midday. He really should get up.

He feels distinctly like he has a hangover and Jiang Cheng mentally goes over the drinks he had the previous night, but he can’t remember drinking anything alcoholic. He probably would have tasted it anyway, even if it would have happened on accident.

“Fuck, I’m getting old,” he grumbles as he hauls himself to the bathroom, but not even a shower really helps.

If this is how sleep-deprivation feels like, he vows to never do it again.

This is worse than having a hang-over, in his opinion, and he slumps over at the kitchen table once he’s dressed and ready.

But making food—or even getting something from the fridge—seems like too much work right now, and it’s not like he’s particularly hungry either.

They probably really shouldn’t have ordered that last round of snacks last night.

Jiang Cheng is still contemplating if it’s worth getting some food inside of him when someone rings at his door.

Jiang Cheng groans and has half a mind just not getting up, but the ringing continues and eventually Jiang Cheng drags himself over there.

“What?” he bites out as he flings the door open, only to blink in surprise when he comes face to face with Nie Mingjue.

All of his new observations from last night hit him in the face at once and he can barely stand to look at Nie Mingjue, that’s how gorgeous he is.

“Thank the gods you’re okay,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and it’s only then that he notices the panicked look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jiang Cheng asks, and his mind goes over all the possibilities.

He can’t come up with anything more than food poisoning though, and that doesn’t seem to warrant Nie Mingjue’s panic.

“You promised me you’d write when you get home,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng blinks in confusion before all the blood drains out of his face.

“Oh shit,” he whispers and turns around to get his phone out of his jacket.

It’s dead, of course.

“You didn’t write and then I couldn’t contact you this morning and you seemed really wiped yesterday night when we parted, so I got worried,” Nie Mingjue rambles and Jiang Cheng turns back to him.

It really shouldn’t be, but Nie Mingjue’s panic is really sweet and cute and Jiang Cheng is already so lost if he thinks like that, he knows.

“I’m okay, I just forgot,” he tells Nie Mingjue with a wince. “I’m so sorry. It really hit me how tired I am when I got home, and I fell into bed as quickly as possible. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine, that’s alright. I shouldn’t have panicked that hard,” Nie Mingjue says, but he seems reluctant to leave and Jiang Cheng finds himself reluctant to see him go as well.

“Would you—do you want breakfast? Or, well, lunch, I guess?”

“You still seem really tired,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering his question and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Maybe I’m getting too old for days out like this. Now, what will it be?” he then asks and congratulates himself for his braveness.

That happy feeling flies out of the window when Nie Mingjue continues to hesitate.

“I—lunch?” he carefully asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

“As—I just have to—as a date?” Nie Mingjue then gets out and Jiang Cheng goes hot all over.

“I mean—”

“Because I would like that, actually,” Nie Mingjue rushes on, not giving Jiang Cheng time to answer. “But if not that’s okay, too and we can just pretend that this didn’t happen.”

“Are you still drunk?” Jiang Cheng asks him, narrowing his eyes at Nie Mingjue who shakes his head.

“No, of course not. I had breakfast, I’m good. It’s just—I’d really like to go on a date with you and it makes me nervous, I guess.”

Jiang Cheng cannot believe how far gone he is already that he finds that endearing as all hell.

“I’d love a date,” he gives back and pulls Nie Mingjue inside of his apartment. “I was just debating if eating is even worth it today, but with you it definitely is.”

When no answer from Nie Mingjue is forthcoming he turns around to look at him and is surprised to see Nie Mingjue stare at him.

“I really like you,” Nie Mingjue blurts out, clearly as nervous as he said, and Jiang Cheng can feel how his cheeks turn red.

“I really like you, too,” he gives back and then pushes Nie Mingjue towards his kitchen. “Let’s talk about that over lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue gives back and it’s what they do.

They talk about it over this lunch and then dinner two days later and then lunch at the company again and at that point Jiang Cheng happily loses count.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #mdzsbingo #modern au #getting together #fluff #there's really not much to say about this

[inkandpen22]

California Dreamin’ (2/?)

Pairing: Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: underage drinking, mild violence, drug use 

Part Summary: Y/N and Topper have lunch together and later attend the Cameron’s party. 

Masterlist

Y/N

After surfing for most of the morning, I've grown tired. The waves here are so different than in Malibu. I run out of the water onto the sand, tossing my hair to the side. I hadn't noticed Topper on the beach in the middle of a morning run until I return to my belongings. He slows to a stop once he reaches my stuff. 

"Morning," I greet with a warm smile. 

"I could see you down the beach. You're really good!" 

"Thanks! Years of practice." I giggle. 

He raises a brow. "What are you up to later?" 

"Well, there's the party at the Camerons since Ward and Rose are gone for the weekend. You're going right?" I ask. 

"I was thinking of making an appearance." He remarks wittily. "You free until then?" 

I shrug. "As a bird." 

"Would you want to get some coffee or something?" 

A faint blush forms on my cheeks. "Sounds good." 

____________________________________

Topper

Sitting at the small table outside of the cafe, I can't help but admire her as she talks about California. All changed out her bathing suit and into a cropped Boston band T-shirt and ripped up Daisy Dukes. Half of her hair is tossed up into a bun, the rest hanging loose in waves over her shoulders. She doesn't notice my absentmindedly listening as I analyze every inch of her, even her white Converse high tops, the laces so stretched that she can tie them around her ankles multiple times. 

The waitress interrupts my daze and takes our orders. 

"Regular black coffee and farmer's breakfast please," I request. 

"Lavender tea and granola acai bowl, please. Thank you so much." Y/N smiles, handing her menu to the girl. 

What the hell is acai anyway? Does anyone know? Because I don't. 

When her eyes meet mine, she giggles. "What? Are you gonna start calling me Granola Girl?" 

"I didn't even know how to pronounce acai until you said it," I admit. 

"You should try it! It's very good for you!" She encourages. 

I make a 'yuck' sound and cower. "Isn't it purple?" 

"Maybe... Don't let that scare you!" She giggles. "Branch out, Thorton." 

"Okay, I'll try it, but only because you're peer-pressuring me!" I laugh. 

After a few minutes, my coffee and her tea arrive. Almost immediately, she reaches for the bottle of honey on the table and squeezes some in. 

"Did you know it takes bees almost a month to produce honey?" She asks. "A little fun fact."  

I glance up from stirring my coffee right as she brings her honey-coated finger to her mouth and begins to suck on it. Her eyes meet mine innocently, not suspecting of my thoughts. Fuck me. 

I swallow hard and quickly return my focus to picking up my coffee. 

"Sarah mentioned a party happening at The Boneyard tomorrow. What's that?" She asks with furrowed brows. 

"It's uh... it's place on The Cut," I stammer, still caught off guard by the honey incident. 

She frowns as takes a sip from her tea. "Why is it called 'The Cut'?" 

"It's where Pogues live. It's just the less valuable part of the island," I do my best to describe. 

"Pogues?" 

"The people from The Cut." 

"Do you all from your neighborhood have a name?" 

"They call us Kooks." I shrug. 

"At least it's fair. Sounds rather West Side Story," she teases with a giggle.

The waitress appears with our food. My plate is rather basic, All-American breakfast. Y/N's is a symbol of the trendy West Coast. In summary, we fit our stereotypes. 

I'm hesitant to say what I'm thinking, but Y/N doesn't know the island as I do. She hasn't met any Pogues and should be careful. "You should stay away from Pogues. They have a tendency to steal and lie." I advise. 

Her face falters, apparently, they don't have stuff like where she's from. "Oh... wow... noted." 

"Yeah, I would stay close to Rafe or me tomorrow night," I suggest, genuinely concerned for her and partially for my own benefit. 

She smiles, taking a bite of her smoothie bowl. "Will do."

"Our friends will be there so you should be okay, but Pogues will be too. Tourons too."  

She laughs. "Is that what you call tourists?" 

I suppress a grin and drag my tongue across my lower lip. 

"So I'm a touron?" She questions with amusement. 

My eyes grow wide and impulsively, my hand travels across the table to land on hers. "No, no! Not you!" I then notice my hand resting on hers. Oh geez, I'm messing this up! "Oh.. uh.. sor-" 

Calmly, she glides her hand over, allowing our fingers to interlock. She brings them down to rest on her lap under the table. "You're fine, Topper!" She giggles. "You apologize too much. Relax. It's just me." 

A smile forms on my lips and I nod. She's right, it's her, she's not scary. She's kind and understanding, more relaxed than anyone I've ever met. 

"Here, try this." She scoops up some of her smoothie bowl, picking up some granola and fruit on top. She guides the spoon into my mouth and I try it. 

I nod, processing the experience. "Okay, I'm a fan." 

"I knew you would be," she grins, giving my hand a faint squeeze. 

The remainder of the meal, on the walk to the car, throughout the drive, and until I dropped her off, we hold hands. It felt so natural and right, as though our hands were made for each other. It was difficult to let go, to say the least. 

__________________________________________________

Well into the party at the Cameron's, Rafe challenges me to jump off the roof into their pool three stories below. Kelce gets him fired up, encouraging the challenge. Y/N and Sarah innocently stand nearby on the balcony, smoking a joint together. I would be lying if I said I haven't been watching Y/N all night. That yellow bikini should be illegal. 

"I'll do it if Y/N does!" I compromise. 

Rafe grins wickedly and I instantly regret what I said. He gets up from his spot on the couch and jogs over to the girls. He rests his hand on Y/N's lower back, dangerously close to her ass. I swallow hard, doing my best not to make a scene. As they talk and laugh, he glides his arm around her. The way she looks at him so intently, makes me wonder if it's solely friendly. Then again, Y/N has the ability to make everyone feel like they're the most important person in the world. 

"Oh, you're on!" I hear her tell him. 

Rafe takes her hand and brings her over. "She's down!" 

The next thing I know, Y/N and I are standing on the roof of the Cameron's house. 

"Scared?" I ask her as I peer down at the pool below. People stand with their heads tilted back, cheering for us to jump. 

She shrugs. "It's just like cliff jumping. I do it all the time back home." She slips her hand into mine. 

My eyes flicker down to our interlocked hands and an idea pops into my head. I tuck my arm behind her legs and scoop her up. 

She instantly flings her arms around my neck and squeals. "Topper!" 

"Ready?" I chuckle. 

"On three!" She giggles nervously. 

I nod and begin to count. "Okay! One! Two!" I jump and cheers ensue louder. 

Y/N screams and clings to me. Her face is hidden within the curve of my neck. Within seconds, the cool pool water consumes us. We break apart and I kick to the surface. When I pop out of the water and wipe my eyes, I find Y/N close by. She swims over to me, smiling brightly. I snake my arm around her and guide her legs around my waist. 

I point to her and announce to the cheering crowd. "This is the coolest girl in the OBX!" 

________________________________

Rafe

The party has died down, the sun threatening to rise in two to three hours. Topper and Kelce finish a game of pong outside and Sarah crashed a while ago. I watch dazed as Y/N takes another hit from the joint and hands it to me. She sits back onto the couch and leans into my side, resting her head on my shoulder as I take another hit. Once there's nothing left but ash, I set it down on the ashtray on the side table. I rest my now free hand on Y/N's knee as she rests against me.  

"So soft..." I mumble, rubbing my thumb over her skin. 

Y/N rises off my shoulder, resting her chin against it. I turn my head, meeting her red and dilated eyes. She smiles softly at me. 

I lift my other hand to caress her cheek. "So beautiful..." 

She stares into my eyes and I'm left wondering what's going on inside her head. My eyes flicker down to her lips and I want to kiss her. Following my instincts, I lean in. 

Shaking her head, she presses a hand to my chest and moves away. "Rafe, don't." 

I persist, scooting closer to her. "Why not? It's not like you're still with Nate," I chuckle. 

"We're friends..." She reminds me. 

I press against her shoulder to urge her down onto the couch. "We could be more." I lean in to kiss her again. 

Within seconds, Y/N's palm flies across my cheek with a smack. "Jesus Rafe! I said no!" 

I hiss, my hand covering up my cheek. 

Y/N takes the opportunity to slip out from under me. She storms off toward the staircase. I slam my fist against the back of the couch. Damn, that slap fucking hurt. She really knows how to hit! Suddenly, Topper and Kelce appear from outside, laughing and talking about the party. I pull out my vile of coke from my pocket, ready to release the pain in my face. 

"Where did Y/N go?" Topper chuckles as they plop down on the couch with me.  

"I don't know, bed? Who gives a fuck," I grumble, pouring myself a new line on the table. 

“What’s with the attitude?” Kelce questions. 

“Nothing, man. Just don’t care about her.” I hide behind a disdained expression. 

________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

#rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #topper obx #topper outer banks #topper imagine #topper thornton #topper #outer banks #kelce x reader #kelce obx #kelce outer banks #sarah cameron #john b routledge #john b #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj #kiara

[upat4amwiththemoon]

The Scary People Next Door part 3

Summary: Two women move to the neighborhood, it seems like there’s more to them than meets the eye.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: nightmare (let me know if there are any!)

Word count: 2299

a/n: Finally a new part! Hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated :)

Tags: @madamevirgo @fishlikestuff @hi-i-1 @d14n4ol @simpforwandanat @diaryoflife @emilyprentissslut @idek-5

Y/N declines Darcy’s call for the fifth time in the span of an hour. She has been trying to call her the whole day, even Monica called her a few times, but Y/N hasn’t answered to any of them. She knew Darcy would eventually end up knocking on her door and possibly breaking in with the help of Monica’s tech if she didn’t answer soon. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and talk to Darcy, yesterday’s events still clear in her head.

Groaning, Y/N plays a voicemail Darcy just left her. “Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but I don’t appreciate you ignoring me. So, you better answer my next call or I’m coming over with Monica. And if you even think about not opening the door, I’ll call Jane and drag her here to drag your ass out of the bed!” The voicemail ends.

Jane Foster, Y/N and Darcy’s best friend, who neither of them have seen in years. Y/N met her and Erik Selvig through Darcy while she was helping with Jane’s astronomy research for college credit. Y/N decided to tag along and help as much as possible. They became close, and still are to a certain extent, but things happen. Darcy had to leave to finish college and become an astrophysicist, Jane got a new job at S.H.I.E.L.D and Y/N had to find an actual job that is in her skill set rather than being strung along with different doctors.

Jane was always known to be a bit bossy. It wasn’t always a bad thing, she needed to be bossy as a woman in that field of work to be heard and taken seriously. For Y/N that meant doing things that she didn’t want to do, like getting a job. If it wasn’t for Jane, she'd most likely still follow Darcy around like a lost puppy, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. She is very grateful for Jane pushing her into getting a job. That being said, she knows Jane would come over and make her spit out everything if Darcy did call her.

Her phone goes off. Y/N rubs her eyes frustratedly before picking up the phone and answering it. “Hi.”

“Hi? You ignore my calls the whole day and all you say is hi?”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N sighs. “I really just don’t feel like talking today.” She mumbles while laying in her bed. She has been laying on her bed the whole day, only getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to drink. She tried to convince herself that yesterday didn’t affect her, but it did, a lot more than she’d like to admit.

”That’s usually the time you need to talk to people the most.”

She did need someone to talk to. The feeling of rambling everything she feels to Darcy was strong, but the guilt of making her problems Darcy’s problems was bigger.

“I’m just tired, nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like me and Monica to come over?”

Y/N bites her tongue, Darcy’s words bringing her close to tears. The damned question: Are you okay? That one question makes her want to spill out her guts instantly. “No, I’d rather be alone.”

Darcy mumbles something that Y/N can’t hear, probably to Monica. They have a silent conversation while Y/N waits for Darcy to answer her. “We’ll come over tomorrow.”

Knowing Darcy wasn’t asking her whether or not that’s okay, Y/N just hums in confirmation before saying her goodbyes and hanging up the phone. After throwing her phone somewhere to the table, she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“Hello!” She yells to the abyss, her voice echoing through the never ending emptiness. “Anyone there?” When Y/N’s only answer is her own voice bouncing back to her, she starts walking. At least she thinks she is walking. The space she’s in is pitch black, so Y/N wasn’t sure if she was moving anywhere.

Suddenly she starts falling. Y/N screams as her body flies down with no signs of stopping. She desperately tries to hold on to something, anything to stop her from falling, but to no avail. There’s nothing around her to grasp onto, only darkness and quiet apart from her screams.

A punch to the face changes her scenery. She groans, trying to lift her hand up to her face but gasping when she isn’t able to. Y/N’s eyes snap open in panic. She looks at her surroundings, noticing it’s the same room she was in not too long ago. However, now it was just a little more unsettling. She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so different from the real thing, nothing was visibly wrong. It just felt bad. Perhaps it was because she knew she was in a dream and she had gone through this already.

“Pay attention!” A very distorted voice shouts, punching Y/N to the face once again. She lifts up her head. The what’s supposed to be one of the men that hurt her definitely didn’t look like one. Its whole body was blurry and it moved to every direction. Its voice sounded like someone spoke through a broken megaphone, the voice cracking every now and then.

“What the fuck are you?” Y/N’s voice was a mere whisper compared to the creature.

The thing doesn’t answer, simply smirks, or at least it looks like a smirk. It starts walking around her, glitching when it takes a step forward. As it stops behind the chair, it sets a hand on top of Y/N’s head. She screams, all the pain she felt during that day going through her body in seconds.

Y/N screams as she sits up and looks around her, hands swatting away any remaining feelings of the thing. Her room is darker now, the clock being almost 11 pm. She stands up, runs downstairs and out the front door. This most likely isn’t the best idea, but Wanda did ask her if she wanted to stay at their place. If the question was genuine or not wasn’t clear to Y/N, but right now she’d like to think Wanda meant it.

She didn’t even know why Wanda and Natasha’s house was the first place she thought of. Maybe it was because she felt weirdly comforted by Wanda’s presence, or because they simply were the only people who know what happened.

Knocking on their front door, Y/N starts doubting herself. She almost turns around and leaves, but Wanda opens the door before she can.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wanda’s concern fills her ears. And so the waterworks start. Wanda gasps lightly, pulling Y/N into her arms as she sobs. She whispers sweet nothings to her ear while guiding her inside to sit on the couch. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Y/N leans more into Wanda, putting her head on Wanda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “I couldn’t sleep, I just can’t be alone.” She sniffles, backing away from the hug as she tries to stop crying.

“That’s okay.” Wanda has a gentle smile on her face that melts Y/N inside.

The feeling makes her question everything. Why is she feeling this way? She met Wanda only a week ago. These kinds of feelings weren’t supposed to awaken so soon.

“What’s going on here?” Natasha, who neither of the two noticed coming in, asks.

Y/N looks down, letting Wanda take control of the situation. “She’s staying the night.” She says as if it was obvious, which makes Y/N frown. It wasn’t her plan to stay the whole night, not wanting to bother the two, but she isn’t opposed to the idea.

“Only if that’s okay.” Y/N adds, lifting her head to look at Natasha, who only glances at her before turning to Wanda. They seem to have a silent conversation going on. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing for Y/N if they were talking telepathically, knowing Wanda did have some kind of powers.

Her eyes widen. Is she able to read minds? Has she ever read her mind?

Wanda pulls Y/N up from the couch, bringing her back to the present. “Come on. You seem tired.” She leads her upstairs to her room. “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, I can’t let you do that.”

Wanda smiles, taking Y/N’s hands to her own. “You’re my guest.”

Y/N stares at Wanda’s green eyes, finding herself mesmerised by them. They are beautiful, she could look at them all day. It feels like Y/N is transferred into a whole new world as she feels herself falling deeper into her gaze. Soon she starts relaxing her muscles, Wanda’s gentle smile and sparkling eyes bringing her comfort. Y/N glances at her lips, wondering if they are as soft as they look. Judging by Wanda’s widening grin, she is listening to her thoughts. Y/N averts her eyes back to Wanda’s.

“Go ahead.” Wanda says with a playful tint in her voice. Y/N frowns, making Wanda giggle. “Ask what you want to ask. I don’t mind”

She blushes, trying to drop her head down to look at the floor, but Wanda’s hand on her chin stops her. Wanda knowing what she wanted should have scared her more than it did, but right now she didn’t care.

Y/N gives Wanda a shy smile. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers. If Wanda hadn’t been so close to her, she would’ve missed it. When Wanda nods, Y/N pulls her closer and kisses her. Wanda sets her hands on Y/N’s waist, while her hands travel through Wanda’s hair.

Wanda pulls back, tightening her grasp on Y/N’s hips. Her eyes are a darker shade of green as she kisses Y/N again and again.

For the next two weeks Wanda and Y/N take it publicly slow, hiding whatever they have going on from their friends. Of course, Natasha being a literal spy, she caught on pretty quick. Not that the couple were that good at hiding it. Wanda spent a lot more time at Y/N’s house, sometimes even nights. Natasha wasn’t mad per se, Wanda was so much happier now, but she was hesitant. Dating someone outside of their field of job always proved to be difficult, no matter how many times one of them tried to have a successful relationship. It always failed one way or another.

Wanda didn’t want to think about that. She had heard a lot of dating horror stories from the other Avengers, but she knew she could make it work. She just needed to be careful and choose the best approach of telling Y/N what she really did. She already knew she had magic, that’s one difficult conversation out of the way, and she knew Wanda’s job is something dangerous because of the kidnapping. Not the way Wanda would’ve wanted Y/N to find out, but it’ll make the actual telling easier.

“I’m going to check up on Y/N!” Wanda tells Natasha as she opens the door. She had different excuses to tell Natasha. Checking up on Y/N, helping her cook or fix something, comforting her through hard times and so on. Sometimes they were true. Wanda did help Y/N during a nightmare or a difficult day many times after the unfortunate event.

Natasha hums, her eyes never leaving the television. “Make sure to check her neck better this time, it had quite many bruises on it last time.” Her voice was completely monotone, but she had the tiniest smirk on her face.

Wanda freezes, almost dropping the piece of cake in her hand. “I’m sorry?” She squeaks out.

“I’m just saying.” Natasha turns to look at Wanda. “You two are doing an awful job hiding the signs.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so someone else must’ve done them. Or perhaps a mosquito, hair straightener, a match... I know all the tricks, Wanda.”

Wanda closes the door, sighing. “Fine, you’re right. What now?”

“That’s not up to me, it’s your call. Just be careful. These kinds of pairings don’t usually last.” Natasha didn’t want to be so pessimistic of their relationship, she has actually started liking Y/N, not that she’d ever let either of them know. She still wanted Wanda to know the hardships these kinds of situations brought into their lives. “Besides, we can’t live here forever, the mission is almost over, then we go back.”

“I know, Nat, I do. I’m not letting that stop me though, because I really want this to work.”

Natasha nods with a smile. “Then I’m rooting for you two.”

“Thank you.” Wanda’s smile returns to her face as she opens the door again. “Now, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with Y/N, don’t wait up.” She steps outside and closes the door, not waiting for Natasha’s answer. It would’ve been something witty.

Wanda knocks on Y/N’s door, feeling nervous. Natasha was right. Soon they’d have to go back to the Avengers compound and she couldn’t see Y/N whenever she wanted. It also meant going back to no contact missions. They could last months. Wanda didn’t want to disappear for months with Y/N having no way of knowing whether she was okay or not.

Y/N opens the door, but not with the excited look Wanda was waiting for. Her brows were furrowed and she looked almost angry. “Why didn’t you tell me you are an Avenger?”

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff #the black widow #darcy lewis x monica rambeau #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #jane foster #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel

[crowfootwrites]

Bruises | Part II [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

Part II of the Nestor two-shot. This part is significantly longer than the first part, but we get to see Nestor takin' care of business, so. Also, there's a Marcus cameo.

Warnings: implied violence; gun usage; language | Words: 1,861

Part I of Bruises

Two days later, you’re back at work, opting for a floral catsuit to keep your bruising covered. Your sides, back, and thighs are starting to look pretty gnarly.

Nestor had indeed taken you to the hospital and stayed with you while doctors performed a series of ultrasounds and CT scans to check for any internal hemorrhaging; he was on the phone for a while and you could hear snippets of angry conversation, likely with Miguel or Marcus about finding the guy that did this. When you were given the all-clear, Nestor had taken you home, insisting on you taking it easy. He had made dinner and curled up with you on the couch, trying to avoid jostling you at all costs. When the two of you had finally made your way to bed, his fingers gently caressed you and he pressed soft kisses against the deep violet bruises blooming across your torso. You saw the quick flash of heartbreak in his eyes at seeing you hurt, and you had curled against him, falling asleep safely in his arms.

It’s a Tuesday and it’s early, so the club is still fairly slow. You’re bartending tonight, thankfully, glad to have a large slab of wood between you and everyone else. You’re not sure what progress Nestor has made on finding the guy, but you still have your job, so you count your blessings and don’t ask questions.

Another blessing: the other bartender for the evening arrives, and it’s an intimidating-looking girl you’ve worked with a few times named Morgan. All but the most confident (or the stupidest) patrons find her pin-straight black hair, severe makeup, and perma-frown a little daunting. No one ever fucks with Morgan and you’re glad to have her beside you for the night.

Things start to pick up around 11 and suddenly, it’s busy, even for a Tuesday. Morgan leans over to remind you about the drink special your boss is promoting, and you groan internally, knowing the tips are the only thing making it worth your while. You and Morgan make a good team, supplying drinks at a breakneck pace while club lights flash around you, obscuring most of what’s happening past the first row of patrons at the bar.

You’re throwing together a Jack & Coke when you hear it. The voice sends panic jolting down your spine as it requests a Budweiser. You stare at your trembling hands, a lime wedge clutched between your fingers.

You force your eyes upward and it’s him. The same slicked back brown hair, the same oily smile, even the same leather jacket. Your eyes widen and he looks back at you with a calculating gaze. Your immediate reaction is a desire to run. But as soon as the thought appears you dismiss it. The club is packed, and it would be easy for him to try something in the middle of a throng of people. No, the safest place for you is behind the bar, where other people can keep their eyes on you.

You force a smile that you’re sure comes out as more of a grimace.

“Sure thing,” you tell him, the pitch of your voice just a little too high. You hand the Jack & Coke to its owner, managing to spill a little on your shaking hands, then head over to the cooler for the beer.

You can feel his eyes on you and your stomach turns, bile burning in your throat. In the dark corner of the bar, shielded partially from view by Morgan, you can feel yourself breaking down. Your eyes flash around you in a panic. Everything and everyone feel too far away. You don’t see the bouncer by the door, and there’s no escape route that doesn’t take you past the man staring at you from the end of the bar.

You’re not sure what to do so you call the person you trust the most.

Nestor answers on the first ring. “Amor?” His voice is, understandably, apprehensive.

A whimper steals through your lips before you can get the words out. “He’s here.”

“Are you inside?” Nestor’s tone has lost all sense of worry. His words are clipped, business-like, and you know this isn’t going to end well.

“Yeah, I’m working the bar with Morgan,” you mumble, dropping your head into your hands as Morgan looks over at you with concern.

“Stay behind the bar,” he commands. “If he tries anything, break a bottle, get a paring knife. Whatever you gotta do, mi amor. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

The line goes dead and you take a couple deep breaths, glad that, despite what’s about to happen, Nestor is coming. You grab the Budweiser out of the cooler, pop the cap and plunk it on the bar top in front of him, not meeting his eyes.

“How’s your night going, babydoll?” The words slither out of his mouth deviously and you swallow around the knot in your throat. Your eyes glance to digital clock beside the register. Thirteen minutes to go.

“Busy,” you grind out through gritted teeth. You move to the middle of the bar to help a waiting customer, and the man’s eyes follow you as you make drinks. He doesn’t leave the bar. He sits and leers and you wonder if he thinks that he’s going to follow you out again at the end of the night. As if you wouldn’t have learned your lesson? Good thing he won’t be here ‘til closing, you think, as your eyes flicker obsessively to the clock, counting down the minutes until Nestor arrives.

Nestor, apparently, makes very good time when he’s angry, because you see him come through the door of the club with two minutes to spare. An audible sigh of relief passes your lips as his eyes find yours over the crowd and he makes his way to the bar. You bite your lip as your gaze lands on Marcus talking to the bouncer who has returned to his post. The bouncer, the same one who was working the night you were attacked, glances at you, then nods to Marcus. Marcus disappears into the crowd behind Nestor. You can’t help the tightening in your chest. This is going to be bad.

You come to stand in front of the man so Nestor knows who to see about their little assault problem. The man, still unaware of Nestor and Marcus’ approach behind him, winks nauseatingly at you and just as he reaches over the bar for your wrist, a firm hand clenches around his forearm and pulls back. The man jerks back on the bar stool and spins to face two vicious looking men in suits.

The man sputters, trying to yank his arm free, but Nestor has no intention of letting him go. “Who the fuck are you?” the man yells. You glance at Nestor’s hold on the man’s arm, his knuckles turning white as his grip intensifies.

Marcus paces around to the other side of the man’s stool, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. “We hear you like to hit women,” he says nonchalantly, bringing his mouth close to the man’s ear. His one free arm flies up, trying to hit Marcus, but Marcus was expecting it. He grabs it and yanks it behind the man’s back. Marcus steps back just slightly, drawing out his gun, keeping it low so as not to alarm the crowd. You see the added length of a silencer on the end of it as Marcus shoves it into the man’s side and you step forward.

“Not in here, please,” you beg, and Marcus smiles at you benevolently.

“Mija, what do you take me for? I would never,” he says, and you cock an eyebrow, knowing full well he would.

Between the two of them, Nestor and Marcus hustle the man outside as he yells frantically over the crowd. He can’t really be heard over the music, and no one appears to notice, likely assuming security was removing him. They take him to the back, towards the back door of the club that leads into the alley where he attacked you. The heavy door slams shut with a note of finality, and you try to put it out of your mind. It’s out of your hands anyway. It was out of your hands the minute you told Nestor about it.

You see Morgan looking over at you as you try to get back to work, willing your hands to be steady. She seems to know better than ask, though, and you’re grateful for that. Thirty minutes later, Nestor comes back in through the front door of the club, nodding at the bouncer as he passes. The crowd has thinned out and the bar is considerably less busy. Nestor makes his way over and you run out from behind it to wrap yourself around him in a hug. The fingers on your right hand find their way to their usual spot around one of Nestor’s braids and you give it an affectionate tug. It’s slight, but you feel him sink into your embrace, seemingly as relieved as you. You pull back and scan him from head to toe, your heart racing. He appears unscathed, but you do notice the tiniest drop of blood on his dress shoe and point it out to him. He frowns and grabs a cocktail napkin off the bar and leans to down to rub it off, as you release a tired chuckle. He crumples the napkin and puts it in his pocket, then caresses your cheek, tucking you against his body.

“He won’t be bothering you anymore,” he murmurs.

You sigh, partly relieved, partly concerned for Nestor. “¿Lo mataste?” you ask hesitantly, not sure if you’re ready for the answer.

Nestor pulls away to look at you dubiously, as though he can read you like a book. “You really want to know?”

“I feel like I need to,” you say with a shrug, but your grip remains tight on Nestor.

A hard look passes briefly over his eyes before he gazes back down at you with a lopsided smile. “We made sure he won’t be touching anything he’s not supposed to anymore.”

Your face contorts as you wonder what they did with the fingers, but you opt not to ask.

“And he’s not gonna come back?” you ask, your voice small. You’re sure Nestor can feel your heartbeat clamoring against his chest.

“Not unless he wants to die,” Nestor whispers soothingly, and you let out a heavy exhale. “And I talked to Jimmy at the door. He gets anywhere near this place, they call me or Marcus.”

Tears sting your eyes, and you sniff as you pull Nestor tighter against you. “Thank you,” you mumble into his lapel. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“So, what now?” you ask, unsure what a person does after they dismember someone in the darkened parking lot of a club.

Nestor pressed a kiss against your forehead, and you could feel his lips curling into smirk against your skin. He pulled away and met your eyes with a shrug. “Now we go home.”

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans fx #mayansmc #mayans mc #mayans fanfic

[on-maars]

Indigo Night

Just a cute lil fic based on this post because it was honestly hilarious.

Title doesn’t really have anything to do with the fic, I just like the song. 

Read it on AO3.

It’s a quiet night inside the fire station.

Eddie is comfortably seated on the couch, waiting for their next call but secretly hoping he can sleep until the end of his shift.

Hen is seated on his right side. She seems focused on a book but from the way her eyes keep shutting every few seconds, Eddie knows she’s one second away from falling asleep.

Chimney’s there too, sprawled on the armchair, his eyes fixed on the television currently broadcasting an old episode of Friends, his mouth agape.

And then there’s Bobby, seated at the table, focused on some documents. Only Buck is absent, probably still fast asleep in his bunk downstairs.

“What you doing, Cap?” Hen asks from the couch, her voice low.

“Just getting the paperwork ready for when Eddie and Buck finally get together.” Bobby answers and his voice is deadly serious but a small smile still stretches up his lips at the edges. Eddie whirls his head around and rolls his eyes at him.

“That’s hilarious, Cap.” He says sarcastically and sighs, throwing his head backwards until it touches the backrest of the couch.

“He’s not wrong, y'know.” Chimney adds. “Just tell the damn man you’re in love with him already. This is getting embarrassing.”

Eddies lets out a small laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. There’s no point in denying it any longer – he thinks. Because he is. In love with Buck, that is.

And it’s not breaking news either. It might have been a few years ago, might have been a few months ago, even. But not anymore.

It seems to be a widely accepted truth among the 118. Whether it be among his closest co-workers or among the b-shift as well, everybody just seems to be in the confidence. Nobody questions it. No-one even doubts it. It’s just there, so vibrant, so loud, and Eddie just came to the conclusion that there was simply no need to acknowledge the elephant in the room. No need to make it clearer than it already is. Not after what happened. Not after that day.

Not after the shooting.

Christopher knows, too. Eddie thought he had been discreet enough not to arise suspicion from his own son, but when this one asked him whether the reason he broke up with Ana was because he was in love with ‘his Bucky’, Eddie realized that he had read it all wrong once again. Christopher was just too damn smart for his own good.

Even his own family. Abuela, Tia Pepa, his sisters, all of them confronted him with the truth the day after his break-up with Ana.

“For the love of god Eds please tell him because we’re getting real tired to hear you whine about it every single time we have you on Skype.”

And in his defense, Eddie’s trying. He’s trying really hard to get the message through the thick brain of his best-friend but he may as well waste his breath.

“Yeah well.” Eddie starts and rubs his temples with his hands, holding back a yawn. “I’ve been trying, guys. Buck is just… Clueless.”

“Maybe it’s time you use a more direct approach?” Bobby dares asking after a few seconds.

“Clearer than making him the legal guardian of my own son?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at him, unimpressed.

“Fair enough.” Hen admits quietly. “But you know, maybe you should just be m-”

The rest of the sentence dies in her throat as Buck makes his way upstairs. His steps are heavy with sleep, a steady beat that gives Eddie more comfort than he’d care to admit. His hair is completely disheveled, his face grizzled as he makes his way towards the couch. He takes a seat next to his best-friend, their thighs pressed together and that’s just another thing that drives Eddie crazy, the way Buck always seems to seek comfort in his arms, whether it be after a short nap inside the fire station, after a long shift or a hard call.

And who’s Eddie to deny him? He can’t.

So once again, he lifts his arm and his face softens when Buck instantly leans against him, shyly, discreetly, as if he’s still wondering if it’s allowed, as if he’s still wondering if that’s not crossing a line in their friendship. Eddie wraps his left arm around his shoulders and ignores the knowing looks of both Hen and Chimney, tracing small patterns on Buck’s chest instead.

“What were you guys talkin about?” He says, his voice still groggy from his nap.

“Eddie’s new crush.” Hen says so naturally Eddie almost misses it. But then Buck suddenly sits straight, whirling his head around until his eyes are fixed on him.

“Your… Your new crush?” Buck asks and his face scrunches up in the most adorable confusion Eddie has to physically refrain himself from cradling his chin and kiss him right there on this couch. “You… You didn’t tell me you were… Interested in someone.”

“Yeah well… That’s actually the reason I broke up with Ana.” Eddie tells him, looking at his best-friend without batting an eyelid. For a few seconds, Eddie thinks he can see a flash of hope and longing cross his best-friend’s eyes but it’s gone just as fast. Buck’s eyes still shuttle back and forth, though, as if performing an internal scan of his face and Eddie only wishes he could know what kind of thoughts invade his best-friend’s brain.

“Oh.” Buck only answers, looking away. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and there’s that faraway look plastered on his face, the one he gets when his brain is working too fast for his head to catch up. “I- I didn’t know.” He adds. “That’s cool, man.” He says, his tone so cheerful and it’s like a switch flipped in his brain. There’s no confusion, anymore. No hesitation. No hope either. Almost like he pushed these feelings far, far in the back of his brain and forced himself to adopt his good old careless, bright and sparkling attitude.

“Yeah. I’ve actually been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for, like, six months now. No response.” Eddie says. Hen snorts next to him.

“Wow they sound stupid, Eds.” Buck answers.

“But they’re not.” Eddie contradicts him. “They’re really smart, actually. Just… dense.”

“Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like I don’t know… ‘Hey I love you.’”

Eddie raises his eyes until they fall on Chimney and Hen who’re both watching him with so much expectation and what the hell? Eddie thinks, the opportunity is right there and it’s too good to be true and he would be damned if he didn’t use it.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” He says, and takes a deep breath before adding: “Hey Buck, I love you.”

“Yes exactly!” Buck answers, smiling big and Eddie raises his eyebrows in confusion. “Just say that!”

“Holy fucking shit.” Eddie whispers while pressing his hand on his forehead, disbelief clearly shown on his face. Hen dissolves in laughter and Chimney hits his head with his book, like he can’t quite believe he saw that scene with his own two eyes.

“If that flies over their head then sorry Eddie, but they’re too dumb for you.” Buck adds after a few seconds, and really, Eddie always prided himself for being a patient man but there’s only so much he can do. “What’s her name?” Buck goes on asking and Eddie sighs.

“She’s a he, Buck.” Eddie instantly answers, exasperated. “He. Masculine. A guy. I like dudes, alright?”

“Really?” Buck smiles. “Do I know him?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” Hen groans, rolling her eyes.

And just when Eddie thinks he got through to Buck-

The bell rings.

The call is not bad. Nothing too major. No fire. No major injuries. Just a small car accident, the people involved more frightened than injured. They still take a few minutes to make sure everyone is okay and Eddie’s honestly thankful for the distraction.

Buck is there with him and they’re working in sync just like they always do, but his friend seems to be in a faraway land, his face constantly scrunched up in confusion. Eddie can feel his gaze out of the corner of the eye and there’s nothing more he wants than to turn around and kiss him to finally remove any doubt from his best-friend’s head but they’re on a call and Eddie knows that this is probably the least suited place to have that kind of conversation.

They need to keep it professional.

The drive back is silent, filled with an uneasiness no-one dares to question. Buck is seated right next to him in the ambulance, their shoulders touching with every turns and jolts. No-one questions it anymore. They stopped doing that a long time ago. Hen and Chim are there as well, facing them, invading their safe space and so Eddie gently nudges Buck, making sure his best-friend knows he’s there and ready to talk as soon as they can have some form of privacy.

When they get back inside the fire station, Eddie is once again drawn to Buck. He takes a seat next to him on the couch and smiles to himself when Hen, Chim and Bobby all collectively decided to give them the room.

Eddie can sense the anxiety radiating from his friend’s body and so he decides to take the matter into his own hands and gently catches Buck’s wrist and regularly taps his soft skin with his index, until he can feel his best-friend’s body relaxing next to him.

“Eds, this… this guy.” Buck starts, his voice uncertain, filled with doubt. “Is he uh... a good friend of yours?” He asks and Eddie knows there’s more to it than Buck lets himself express.

“Yeah, Buck.” He answers, squeezing his wrist and looking up at him. “The best-friend I’ve ever had.” He says and Buck’s breath catches in his throat.

“Well for the record, I- I’m pretty sure he likes you too.” Buck says, glancing at him nervously but looking away just as fast.

“Oh, you think?” Eddie teases him and that brings a smile to Buck’s face.

“I know.” He corrects himself. “I know he does. He just- I guess he just didn’t know how to tell you, and- and he also needed to be 100% sure that this was the direction you two were taking to- to actually do something about it.”

When Buck looks up, Eddie smiles softly at him and runs his right hand through his hair, letting it on the back of his head afterwards, making sure he has his undivided attention before saying these next few words.

“Then maybe you should tell him he’s it for me.” He says, and then adds: “I’m all in, Buck.”

“I love you.” Buck blurts out but he doesn’t stop there. “And I love Christopher. So damn much.” He adds. “So damn much.” He repeats. That makes Eddie smile. “But- Eds, you- I’m a lot of hard-work and I- I’m so messed-up man you have no idea how messed-up I am.” Buck marks a pause, and adds. “I mean, who am I kidding, of course- of course you do because you’re you and you’re putting up with my shit all the damn time and I’m just-”

Eddie cuts him off by pressing their lips together.

His thumb rubs his cheek while the rest of his fingers play with the roots of his hair. Buck’s palm is pressed on his chest and the next second, Eddie can feel Buck’s fist hold his shirt tightly, creasing it.

“There’s nothing to put up with.” Eddie says against his lips, cupping his cheeks with his hands to make him look up. “Alright?” He adds.

“Alright.” Buck’s voice is still fragile.

“Good.” Eddie says. “Glad we got that cleared up.” He adds casually and Buck scoffs. “Next time though, maybe be a bit quicker on the uptake?”

“Oh fuck off.” Buck says, nudging him playfully. He stays silent for a while before adding: “Can we go back ho-” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, correcting himself. “Can I hang out at your place tonight?”

Eddie sighs and intertwines their fingers together.

“Course you can.” He only says. “This is your home too, Evan.”

#buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 #911 #my writing #buck x eddie

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Eleven: Street Fighter

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

“Angel, I didn’t think we’d see you tonight,” Magenta greets her, stealing a quick hug.

“I took one more day off, but I was getting bored so I thought I’d come say hi,” Mila replies.

Her hair is down, chin length with yellow bleached tips against the jet-black regrowth; a pixie cut several months grown-out. Her face is bare, her eyes appearing smaller without the heavy lashes and liner, her face rounder without all the contour and blush.

Scully can’t stop staring. She can’t stop the hammering of her heart that seems to be saying Angel. Is. Mila. You. Fucking. Idiot. Mila meanders across the room, stopping to greet people before she finally makes her way to Scully, smiling sheepishly.

“Hey, Desi. You don’t look super stoked to see me.”

Scully shakes her head, her lips rooting for words. “No, I am,” she finally stammers, “I am happy to see you. I just...you look so different.”

Mila chuffs a nervous laugh. “They don’t call it catfishing for nothin’,” she jokes, tucking her silky locks behind her ear.

“Are your eyes a different color?” Scully asks dumbly.

“Yeah, contacts. Maybe you’ve heard of them?” It’s clear that Mila is growing increasingly perturbed by Scully’s response to her appearance.

“M- Angel,” Scully starts, looking at her intensely. “Can we talk, someplace private?”

Mila’s eyebrows furrow in concern and a little confusion, but she nods. Scully stands and takes her hand, guiding her down the hall and out onto the floor. The evening is in full swing now and it’s noisy and dark as she pulls Mila into a VIP room, snapping the curtain shut. She tries not to notice that this is the same one she spent time in with Mulder last night.

Mila stands near the coffee table, eyeing Scully skeptically. “Look, Desi, if you regret what happened that’s fine, we don’t ever have to talk about it again. But you’re acting really fucking weird right now.”

“Are you Mila Chamberlain?” Scully asks, her body postured for a whisper though she’s shouting to be heard over the music.

Mila’s face drains of color as she sucks in a startled breath. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before her lips begin to tremble and tears well in her eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” she spits back at Scully, her body tensing as though she’s preparing for a fight.

Scully holds up her hands in defense. “I’m not here to hurt you, Mila. I’m here to help you. I’m with the FBI.”

Mila’s fear gives way to confusion. “Help me do what?” she asks, wiping the back of her hand across her nose.

“Get out of here, out of Damsels,” Scully offers, but this only seems to confuse Mila more. “Okay, let me start at the beginning. Your parents requested help from the FBI because they believe you’re being held against your will. I was sent here undercover to locate you so we can get you out.”

Mila’s eyes narrow. “My parents?” she asks dubiously, and Scully nods. “My parents, who I told you are awful people, who raised me to hate myself?” Her tone is growing increasingly angry.

Scully’s face falls as she finally pieces it all together. M.C. The conversion therapy. Their kiss. Mila was never being held captive. She was trying to escape.

“Do you know they tried to have me involuntarily committed?” Mila says angrily, nostrils flaring. “If they find me, they’re going to have me locked away. Better a crazy daughter than a gay one, as far as they’re concerned.”

Scully can’t find the right words to say. She doesn’t know what the right thing to do is. She’s found Mila; that’s why she’s here. But Mila doesn’t want to be found.

After watching Scully try and fail to speak for a full minute, Mila scoffs and moves past her towards the opening in the curtain. Before she leaves she turns back and speaks again, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you, so much, for your help, Desi. Or whoever the fuck you are.” And then she’s gone.

Scully scrambles for the right next step. This isn’t in any of her FBI handbooks. What do you do when it turns out the victim wasn’t a victim at all? Or that they are, but not of whom you had thought? She needs to talk to Mila again, to understand the situation. She rushes out of the VIP room and looks around, unsure if Mila returned to the back or left out the front. She’s headed towards the bar to ask Queenie if she saw Angel leave when she runs smack into Mulder.

“Sc-Desiree,” he says, putting his hands on her shoulders, “I need to talk to you.”

“Not now, Mulder,” she hisses, looking around for any sign of Mila.

“Please, it’s important. Can we go to a private room?”

She raises her arms and pulls his hands down, moving to pass him. “Get the hell out of here, Mulder, I’m working,” she growls.

He catches her wrist, pulling her back to him. He opens his mouth to speak, but instead lets loose a yelp as Denny’s fist closes around his forearm with a vice grip.

“Time to go,” Denny says in that funny flat affect she’s come to enjoy. As Mulder releases his grip on her, Denny guides him towards the door.

“Desiree! He calls over his shoulder, “tell him it’s okay!”

“Go home,” Scully says with a glare, then heads to the bar as Denny pushes Mulder outside.

“Queenie, did you see Angel go by in street clothes?” she shouts across the rail, and Queenie shakes her head.

Scully is about to go check in the back when a stricken look falls over Queenie’s face, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Scully follows her gaze to the stage, where a moment ago Lexie was doing her set. Lexie is still up there, but so is a tall, muscled man. Lexie is cowering at the base of the pole, her hands covering the back of her head as the man kicks her repeatedly.

Scully instinctively reaches for her weapon, which is decidedly not holstered to her panties, and then scans the room for her bird dogs. Denny hasn’t yet come back from eighty-sixing Mulder. The other bird dog working tonight is nowhere to be seen. She suddenly remembers something Tibet had told her.

“Queenie!” she shouts, and it takes a couple attempts before the woman peels her eyes away from the stage and looks at her. “You have a baseball bat back there, right? Give it to me.”

Queenie lifts a wooden baseball bat from behind the bar and hands it to her with a horrified look on her face. “Don’t do something stupid, Desi. I’m calling the cops.” She turns and picks up the phone as Scully stalks away from the bar, muttering to herself “I think they’re already here.”

As she weaves through the crowd, she sees the other bird dog lying on the floor; his head is bleeding and he appears to be unconscious. She moves to the side of the stage, approaching from behind the man who is assaulting Lexie. Lexie isn’t moving anymore, but that doesn’t seem to deter him as he delivers swift, sharp kicks to her rib cage. In a room full of men, you’d think someone would have stepped up to protect this woman. Instead they all stand around gape-mouthed, looking at one another as though holding a silent vote for who should intervene. Rage swells in her chest as she steps forward and lifts the bat high over her head, bringing it down against the back of his skull with a crack .

He stumbles forward, falling over the tip rail and onto the floor in front of the stage. Ben seems to have finally realized something is going on and the music cuts out abruptly, her ears ringing in the sudden silence.

Scully wants to go to Lexie, but she knows her perpetrator has not been neutralized. She jumps down from the stage and the circle that has formed around the man expands to include her. With the bat in her hand and this outfit, she feels a bit like she’s been teleported into Street Fighter. He is attempting to push up onto his knees and she holds her weapon ready in a batter’s stance. If only Mulder were snuggled up behind her instead of outside in the parking lot, this may be a more fair fight.

“Freeze!” she commands, “federal agent!”

He lifts his head to look at her and laughs derisively before lowering it again.

She realizes how absurd she must look. All five foot three of her, four inch plastic heels and purple underwear, looking like she’s ready to make a run for first base, no badge to flash. Really intimidating, she’s sure.

“I assure you, sir, I am a federal agent and you are under arrest,” she repeats in her most authoritative voice.

He rises quickly, clearly having been exaggerating the degree of his injury, and as soon as she sees him reaching into his jacket she swings again, making contact with his jaw and sending a spray of blood and spit across the gawkers. Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t knock him off his feet, and only momentarily delays him drawing his gun and leveling it on Scully. She hears him disengage the safety and she closes her eyes.

Mulder puts up a decent fight, though admittedly more of a verbal one. He’s obstinate, but not stupid, and Denny is probably twice his weight.

“You know the rules, no touching,” Denny is explaining again, blocking Mulder from re-entering the club.

“Look, I understand that, but I know her. She doesn’t care if I touch her. Ask her! Go ask her!”

Denny is unmoved, emotionally and physically. Finally, Mulder accepts defeat and trudges towards his car at the back of the lot. Once he’s pulled the door open, he sees Denny go back inside. He sits heavily, one leg hanging out the open door, and drops his head against the headrest with an exasperated sigh. He’s about to give up and head back to Alexandria when he hears the distinctive crack of a gunshot.

His feet kick up gravel like buckshot as he flies back to the doors of the club, drawing his weapon on the way. His pounding heart is a metronome, keeping time in slow motion as it carries him towards her. As he nears the club, people start pouring out. A steady stream of terrified men scramble haphazardly from the small doorway, and he elbows his way past them, the wrong way, the right way, towards her. He makes his way to the floor, a cacophony of screams and shouts. Gunpowder and whiskey permeate the air and he pushes through the mele, towards her.

Continue Reading Here

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #x files fanfic #case file #case fic

[mae-gi-writes]

Sooner | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Requested by anon! You break up with your boyfriend at the annual dinner staff celebration. But thankfully, Sunwoo swoops in to save the day. 

Genre: fluff, a little angst if you squint. CEO! Sunwoo au, Noona au. 

A/N: I’m sorry for taking so long with requests but I literally have NO time to write *cries*. But I’ll try my best to go through them asap. Thank you for your patience and for understanding, and thank you most of all, for reading my works <3 <3

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

"Now is your time," Jacob urges, "do something."

He doesn't have to call Sunwoo for attention, for the said man's eyes are already riveted towards the couple in question swaying on the dance floor. Or had been swaying anyway. Because right now, they're squarely facing each other and even with the loud music booming through the speakers, small snippets of angry conversation seems to reach the pair.

"I can't do that," Sunwoo mumbles while ducking his head away, "you know I can't do that. People will talk--"

"People will always talk Sunwoo," Jacob cuts him off with a stern look, "you're not doing that as Mr. Kim, CEO of Kim Finances. You're doing it as Kim Sunwoo, just a guy smitten with his junior associate."

The younger man decides to keep quiet, though Jacob can practically see the cogs turning in his head.

"I can't keep doing this Jaehwan," your voice suddenly pierces through the music, "how am I supposed to trust the fact that you're hanging out with your ex--you go out to drink with her! I--"

"She knows my friends Y/N, she's already in the group. I don't know why you're making such a fuss about this!"

Beside him, Jacob scoffs, "what a dick."

"Because you did it once!" You yell out, fists clenched and chest heaving, "you did it once Jaehwan. How--How am I supposed to trust you--"

Jaehwan murmurs something before his hands reach out as a gesture to calm you. But it's too late. You push at his chest while crying out, "Oh stop acting like you're the good guy. You know damn well what you did!"

People around you have stopped with curious gazes, something that's bound to result in office gossip the next day and though Sunwoo isn't one to act like a hero, he decides that he'd better swoop in before things get out of hand.

As the CEO, it's his duty. He tells himself. Yeah, that's right.

So that is how he finds himself striding up to the pair of you to position himself in a way that he can shield you from Jaehwan.

"Hey guys," his eyes flit back and forth between the pair, "we should probably take this outside--"

"You're one to talk Y/N," Jaehwan scoffs, "you accuse me of talking to my exes when you gallivant in the office, getting all friendly with the superiors--"

"They're just friends! And--"

"Think I didn't know you little game?! What about you flirting with him, all the time?!" Jaehwan jabs a thumb in Sunwoo's direction, causing him to blink in surprise before rage clouds over.

"Excuse me?" He finds his voice, fist suddenly clenching at his side while narrowing his eyes at the said man.

The latter scoffs, hands plopping atop his hips as he shakes his head, "wow, look at that. Y/N, what'd you do for him to take your side? Bet you had a nice suck--"

That does it. Sunwoo's fist flies forward, hits Jaehwan straight in the jaw.

The whole room gasps. Silence ensues.

It takes a few seconds for Jaehwan to straighten back up, his nostrils flared and his mouth twisted in a scowl that he throws at Sunwoo, "you little fucker--"

Everything happened so fast. One moment Jaehwan is lurching at the CEO's body and Sunwoo throws himself before Y/N, and the next, two colleagues are dragging Jaehwan away, all the while screaming obscenities for everyone to hear and see.

Noticing the way your face is crumpled as though you're about to cry, the CEO makes a grab for your shoulders, spins you around, and walks you out of the room, out of the gaping eyes drilling holes into the back of your heads.

It is only when the burst of fresh air hits your face that you inhale shakily, hands finding purchase onto the terrace railing.

"You okay?" Sunwoo murmurs softly.

While his fingers itch to touch you, hold you close, he decides that it's not wise. Not now.

"Noona?" He prompts.

"Huh?" Your eyes flutter up to his, causing his heart to squeeze at the sight of the tears brimming at the corners, "sorry, I--" taking a shaky inhale, you stumble through your words, "I'm sorry he lashed out at you--"

"Noona," Sunwoo rests his hand atop your arm, "it's fine. Breathe."

A long silence ensues where you try to even out your breathing. He watches though his chest hurts at the sight of your struggle, helpless in such a situation.

When you manage to recollect yourself long enough, you manage a wobbly smile. Sunwoo's heart clenches at the pain lingering in your brown orbs.

Fucking bastard, he swears if he ever sees his face he'll break his two legs.

"He's not wrong you know," you say, keeping your gaze averted, away from him, as if embarrassed by the mere notion of it.

Moving closerr to you, his hand settles on the small of your back, "what do you mean?"

"He--He knows we're close, too close for his liking. it didn't help that I told him how popular you were with the girls."

He scoffs, "not a reason."

"I might have also told him..." you spare him a glance and bite down on your bottom lip, "...that I liked you before. That's what started this whole thing. He thinks I cheated on him, with you. So he thinks it's okay to see his ex, except that--" swallowing hard, you continue in a whisper, "except that I never cheated. I'd never do that Sunwoo and--"

Tears are free falling down your cheeks now and without hesitation Sunwoo's arms lace themselves around your middle just in time for you to lean into his cheat to sob. He holds you, holds you as your ahoulders shake and your body quivers and all the sadness comes pouring out of you like a free-flowing river finally able to run its course.

He holds you, while trying not to let his brain jump to the conclusion that there might be a bigger strand of hope for him to catch your heart and make it his.

She liked me, his brain roars like a blaring siren.

Maybe she still does.

When your sobs finally calm down into soft sniffles, he manages to pull you back enough before cupping your chin and tilting it up so that you have no choice but look at him.

The emotion he finds swimming across your face causes another stab to resonate through his ribcage. He hates seeing you so frail, so weak.

"Even if we are close," he murmurs, "that doesn't justify him cheating. Nothing ever does."

"But it's my fault," you blubber against his chest, "I should've just kept my distance--"

"You'd ignore me for him?"

You hesitate slightly, "that's not what I--"

"No. Noona, you can't just end friendships with people just because he said so. If he loves you as he claims he does, he wouldn't be so jealous and insecure," He interrupts in barely-restrained anger, "being in love doesn't mean throwing away everything else. It doesn't work that way and he's a dick for even implying that on you."

He can keep going, but spotting your bottom lip wobbling is enough to allow the words to die at the back of his throat. Instead he just holds you a little closer, an embrace that you gladly accept, tucks your head under his jaw before rocking you back and forth like you're a child that needs comforting.

He isn't really aware of the hours that slip by, only realizes that it's late when he notices the lights aren't on anymore inside the room, that there aren't any voices in the vicinity to suggest that there's still a presence of a party. Glad that there aren't any curious eyes, he doesn't waste time guiding you to his car so that he can drive you home, scooping you into his arms -- you'd fallen asleep on the way and he knows his way to your flat -- and clumsily letting himself in your safe haven.

Gently laying you down onto a nearby sofa, your sleeping form snuggles closer to the pillows on instinct as a soft sigh leaves your lips. Sunwoo gathers a blanket from the side before he tucks you in, careful not to jostle you awake. But there's nothing to worry about. You are happily swept up in a reverie of dreams.

"Cute," Sunwoo can't help but mutter under his breath while crouching down to gaze fondly at your smoothed out features, a drastically different picture from the crying mess you'd been a few hours before.

He reaches out, hand brushing away a few stray strands of hair from your face, "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

A soft sigh escapes him, "I liked you too, noona. I've always liked you, idiot."

And then, not being able to restrain himself, the young man leans over to drop a chaste kiss atop your forehead.

"Sleep tight, princess," he murmurs.

-------

Knock knock knock.

Sunwoo looks up from the pile of papers scattered across his desk, face worn out with tiredness and practically running on caffeine. Speaking off, he should probably get another cup.

"Yes?" He calls, though he inwardly cringes at the way his alto croaks without energy.

But the moment the door swings open to reveal your face, the young CEO relaxes. He leans back in his seat before closing his eyes, "it's only you."

"Were you expecting someone else?" You ask while closing his door. You approach his desk gingerly, with a fearful gait in your step that though you hope he doesn't notice, he does so anyway.

He shakes his head in response, before he motions her to take a seat. You don't though, rocking back and forth on your heels with your hands knotting themselves, a sign of nervousness.

"Noona?" He peers at you when you don't say anything, concern flaahing through his features, "what's wrong?"

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you squirm slightly before you manage to gather up all your courage to blurt out:

"I heard you, that night."

Silence. Sunwoo stares at you, confusion blossoming into realization when his brain puts two and two together.

He jolts up from his chair, "you heard--you mean, what--what did you hear?"

"Well," you shuffle from one foot to another while averting your gaze, "uhm--I heard you speak, that time when you carried me to my flat--"

"And you kept that to yourself all this time?!"

"What was I supposed to do?! I was confused!"

In truth, only two weeks had passed since the famous incident. Though, you were glad that Sunwoo had been too busy to actually realize you had been silently avoiding him. It had given you time to gather your thoughts and actually think over what you really wanted to say.

After all, Sunwoo is the CEO of Kim Finances. You are just a mere nobody. He doesn't really need you.

"You--You--" he struggles to gather his thoughts as he gazes at you, a mere puppy being kicked by its owner with his cheeks filling with the softest peony.

You approach his desk, noting the way his eyes widen at your blunt confidence while you round the table to stand before him.

"I like you," you look up at him boldly even when your cheeks are flaming with colour and your palms are coated with a sheen of swear, heart beating as if you’ve just run a mile without any breaks, "I've always liked you. Except, people talk and you’re like three years younger than me, which doesn’t help things and the fact that I just recently broke up with Jaehwan because of you just seems wrong--”

One second you’re trying to justify yourself, and the next Sunwoo is cupping your cheeks and pulling you in as his mouth finds yours in a hard, passionate kiss.

A small sigh escapes your throat, which he takes as a green light. His hands grip your waist before he pins your soft curves to his hard frame, the action leaving you breathless and your head dizzy as he slowly moves his lips over yours.

He kisses, nibbles, sucks softly while your hands pave a way up his chest to grip tight on his work shirt and when your butt hits the edge of his table, the young CEO doesn’t hesitate to grab your thighs before propelling you up on his desk. Covering your protests with his lips, body slipping right in-between your thighs while his tongue delves in to caress yours, a low growl echoes from deep within his chest when you kiss back with just as much ardour.

You’ve never really thought of kissing Sunwoo up until recently. But all these fantasies had always felt wrong somehow, maybe because you know he’s younger which automatically made him younger brother material. Or so you thought. And it’s not like his attitude had helped in the past. While he was the CEO of a big multinational company, Sunwoo was still a big kid at heart who just loved pestering you and bullying you with his affection.

But this, him kissing you and ravaging your lips as if that’s the last time you shall ever see each other again, that is definitely not the Sunwoo you’ve grown to know.

This is a different Sunwoo. This Sunwoo feels like a man. His grip is firm, his mouth hot and hard and just the pure bliss of a drug you can’t get enough of.

You’re not really sure when your arms manage to lace their way around his neck, but it’s only when you part for air that you realize how close you are, how his chest is practically pressed against yours it can be considered scandalous. He takes this chance to pepper soft kisses over your jaw and when you turn your head to allow him to explore, doesn’t hesitate to slowly nuzzle his way along your neck, nibbling here and there and causing your body to squirm, a soft whimper falling from your lips which he only answers with a deep, satisfied rumble from his chest.

Head tilting back up so that his nose brushes yours, he murmurs, “I don’t care what people think,” his alto is rough, so deep that it hits you with a wave of desire. You can’t help but notice his fingers which have somehow found a way to ghost up your thighs as he speaks.

Swallowing hard, you try to find your voice to answer him, “I--I don’t want this relationship to hurt your reputation--”

Another round of butterflies flutter up your chest when he drops a peck on your lips to shush you, “you think too much,” he mumbles against your mouth, pressing another chaste kiss, “about things that don’t matter.”

“Sunwoo, I--”

“Noona,” he gives you a hard look, dark eyes filled with an intensity, a depth that makes you wonder briefly whether he’s hiding a galaxy of feelings by the amount of tenderness echoing through his pools of dark obsidian.

“You can’t keep living for others,” he tucks some of your hair behind your ear, “and I’m not asking for much. All I ask is for you to give me a chance.”

He has a point. You’re always so self-conscious of what others might think that sometimes, you feel like it’s the reason why you’re so unhappy.

So as your eyes find his to answer his question, you dip your head down into a nod.

“okay,” you murmur. The man lets out a relieved sigh, before bringing you into another hug, one that fills your heart with a flurry of feelings you can’t quite place. Though you know they’re definitely tending towards the good side.

“You won’t regret it,” he whispers into your shoulder, pecking the side of your ear.

You shiver, arms wrapping a little tighter, “I know I won’t.”

#sunwoo #kim sunwoo #the boyz sunwoo #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo drabble #sunwoo au #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo scenario #sunwoo fanfic #sunwoo fanfiction #sunwoo timestamps #the boyz imagines #theboyz imagines #theboyz imagine #the boyz imagine #the boyz drabble #the boyz drabbles #theboyz drabble #the boyz scenarios #theboyz scenarios #theboyz scenario #the boyz scenario #the boyz fluff #tbz soft hours #tbz writers #tbzwritersnetwork #deobi drabbles #the boyz soft hours #the boyz timestamps #ceo au

[thewatermelloncat]

Backstage (Rosénali CH 4)

CH1, CH2, CH3

Summary: Rosé’s day only gets worse and Denali makes sure to be there for her. And in her vulnerability Rosé admits more to Denali than she would to anyone else.

Boarding School AU

Kinda Pastel/Punk AU

Author’s Note: Be on the look out for links to extra stories within the chapters.

Warnings: Swearing

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

Rosé had been distracted throughout their English class that day. Which was no different than any other time really, but Denali knew that this time there was a reason and that’s what bugged her. After they’d been released to get to their next class, she had tried to catch Rosé so she could check on her. But she’d gotten caught up in a sea of people and couldn’t make it to her by the time she left out the door.

She hadn’t seen her since then. Part of her had wanted to go looking for her at lunch but she’d reasoned against it. Not wanting to overstep her boundaries when Rosé was already having a rough day – they were still fundamentally strangers after all. Then again, were they, after Denali had comforted her while she cried that morning?

After classes were over Denali returned to her dorm, figuring that distracting herself with homework would be better than getting caught up in her thoughts over what she is to Rosé. It was going well and she’d finished a page and a half of science before frantic footsteps thunder down the hall.

Suddenly the door bursts open and Mik flies into the room. “Rosé got into another fight!”

“What! What happened?” Denali springs off her bed, homework falling to the floor.

“A group of girls were getting stuck into her about her parents again. Kind of the usual stuff really” Mik explains breathlessly. “Rosé obviously didn’t want to hear it so she started to walk away. Then someone called her a ‘fucking charity case’ and she turned around and pushed them against a locker – it was kinda hot.”

“Is she okay?” Denali asks.

“Physically or emotionally?” Mik asks back.

Denali lets out an unsettled breath, not able to pick an option. “Where is she?” she asks instead.

“They should have released her from the office by now” Mik says, flopping into a nearby chair. “So, she’ll probably be back in her room.”

“I’ll see you ‘round dinner” Denali says before immediately setting off out the door.

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

When Denali knocks on the door she doesn’t expect an answer but still she calls out, “Rosé, it’s me.”

In the second it takes for her hand to fall back to her side; she already gets a response.

“Door’s open.”

At the invitation Denali turns the handle and pushes through the door, finding Rosé standing at her desk. When the door shuts behind her Rosé turns around. She doesn’t say anything, waiting for Denali to make the next move. Not knowing how she’s going to react.

“Are you all right?” is not the first thing Rosé thought she’d hear from her.

“Yeah” Rosé answers quickly but she doesn’t know how much she means it.

“Because after the day you’ve had, I don’t think you should be” Denali continues as if Rosé hadn’t answered.

“I’ve had days that are worse” Rosé dismisses.

“Don’t deflect” Denali warns calmly. “Are you okay?”

Rosé shrugs, “yeah, fine.” Only choosing that answer because she tells herself that she has to be.

“So, you’re not hurt?” Denali checks. “Not even emotionally?”

“No” Rosé shakes her head before she fixes Denali with a questioning look, noticing the way she is staring at her. “Are you expecting me to have a blackeye or something?”

“Well, no… but yeah – I don’t know” Denali fumbles.

“Nothing, see” Rosé moves a hand in front of her face before placing it behind her to lean against the desk. Failing to supress a wince.

Denali freezes but says nothing. Figuring it’s better to assess the situation independently rather than allowing Rosé to get defensive. “Your hand” she points out seriously, noting the redness of the side of her palm.

“What about it?” Rosé says far too quickly for anything not to be suspicious.

“You said you weren’t hurt.”

“I’m not. It’s fine” Rosé averts her eyes, subconsciously moving the hand further behind her back out of Denali’s sight.

“I can see it swelling” Denali starts forward towards her, holding her hand out for it.

When Denali stops in front of her, Rosé rolls her eyes but reluctantly holds her hand out to her and she takes it gently.

“Why did you lie to me?” Denali asks as she studies over it.

“I didn’t. It’s not broken so it’s fine.”

Denali sighs deeply, knowing that she’s not going to get anywhere with Rosé on this. “Just at least let me wrap it for you.”

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

“Did you break their nose or something?” Denali doesn’t look up from tying off the bandage Rosé had lying around in a draw.

“What?” Rosé regains focus after zoning out.

“Did you break their nose?” Denali repeats. “Surely you would have had to hit something pretty hard to do this.”

“I didn’t hit them” Rosé tells her.

“Then…” Denali’s voice fades out as she thinks. “Did they hurt you?”

Rosé scoffs a laugh but thinks better of making a comment of liking to see them try. “Nah, they didn’t touch me.”

“I’m so confused” Denali shakes her head as she finishes off the knot and lowers Rosé’s hand.

Rosé smiles at her, partially amused by her confusion but mostly in thanks. “After I pinned them, I hit the locker.”

“You missed?”

“Purposefully” Rosé makes a point of explaining.

“So, you didn’t hurt them?”

“Probably winded her when I shoved her but that’s only momentary” Rosé considers. “I never want to hurt anyone, Denali.”

Denali smiles at her answer sadly before she asks, “what did you get for it?”

“Two detentions, a call home to my parents – which they probably won’t care about – and I had to say an apology that I only half meant” Rosé lists before adding to her last point. “Which works out fine because they had to give me an apology that I know they didn’t mean at all.”

“And what else did they get?” Denali asks.

“Nothing” Rosé says matter-of-factly.

“Nothing?” Denali repeats in disbelief.

Rosé shrugs not seeming surprised or bothered by it. “Remember what I said about elitists?”

Denali nods, thinking back to the previous day on the fire escape. “Well, if it makes any difference, I’m on your side” Denali tells her. “And Mik too.”

“I know she was” Rosé smiles widely, laughing slightly.

“What do you mean?” Denali asks, unsure of how she knows.

“Well, she was around so she got pulled into the office as witness” Rosé explains before she smirks. “Thought she was going to lose it at Ms Visage at one point. She’s pretty cool.”

(Short Story: I’ll Fight Your Corner)

“I pretty sure she’d die if she heard you say that” Denali smiles. “I think she idolises you.”

“I’m no one to idolise” Rosé’s smirk drops as she looks down at her bandaged hand.

“I don’t think she cares” Denali shrugs. “She just wants to know how you sneak out at night.”

“Trust me it’s not as fun as it seems” Rosé says sadly, not looking up.

“Why do you do it if it isn’t fun?”

“Because I have a job” Rosé seemed to hesitate before she said it. “Night shifts at a diner down the block – the one that your parents must have taken you to. Ms Visage was nice enough to set me up with it when we realised that I couldn’t afford stationery and stuff.”

Rosé pauses, giving Denali an opportunity to say something but she doesn’t take it. 

“It’s only parttime but it’s still enough to set me back on homework. I think all the teachers know but most of them don’t seem to care.”

“And no one else knows?”

“No one” Rosé emphasises before warning, “and I’m hoping you can keep a secret because I plan to keep it that way.”

“I won’t tell anyone” Denali promises. “But why are you telling me all of this?”

“Thought it might be nice to tell someone, you know?” Rosé leans her head back against the wall. “Have someone else know apart from myself.”

“And is it nice – to tell someone?”

Slowly Rosé starts to nod her head as she chews at her lip. “Yeah… it is.”

CH5

#rpdr #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr 13 #rosé #denali #gottmik #boarding school au #pastel!denali #punk!rosé #rosénali #rosenali