#i MISS HIM SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR ASKIN FOR HIM

[rainymoodlet]

gor'shak of the kalo'dari, high chieftain of the lost isles 🏝️

#ts4 #ts4 edit #ts4 trolls #ask meme #;ask #sim: gor'shak #;lbts outtakes #foxsimthings #thank you so much for the prompt!!! #sadly we'll never get to see him like this in the story but #he'd never want to be chieftain anyway omg the responsbility #no thank you #rako bout dies every goddamn die he'd never have the time to look out for everyone else #i MISS HIM SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR ASKIN FOR HIM

[euthymiya]

“i wanna ruin our friendship!” ft. wriothesley, neuvillette, alhaitham, and kamisato ayato

in which genshin men decide being friends is not enough. why be friends when you could clearly be so much better as lovers? part two of “we’re just friends, but…” (<- read part one for better understanding of each)

contains: female reader (use of miss, milady/my lady, lovely lady, and madame) ; fluff (slight hints of angst but all happy endings) ; confessions, friends to lovers, wriothesley: implied harassment of reader by an inmate, reader is a doctor at the fortress, angry and possessive wriothesley, jealousy ; neuvillette: reader works at the palais, melusine features, neuvillette is implied to be emotional and make it rain ; alhaitham: mentions of drinking alcohol (alhaitham), vulnerable alhaitham, reader can cook ; ayato: slightly insecure reader, mentions of reader being in a lower class than ayato

WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley is not a possessive man, despite his feelings for you.

he’s long accepted that somewhere between frequent visits to you in the infirmary and occasional lunches together as fellow colleagues at the fortress, he’s fallen hopelessly hard for you. how could he not, when you’re so gentle-natured, smart, and unfairly pretty?

but still, wriothesley is not a possessive man. when men praise you to the archons and admire your unearthly beautiful smile, he is not possessive. when he grumpily watches your fingers brush against bare chests of the wounded after pankration matches, he is not possessive. when you shyly thank an inmate who rushes to hold a door open for you, he is not possessive.

but even wriothesley has his limits. and they happen to snap over the edge today—because now, as a man corners you against the wall, pestering you until distress is clear on your face, wriothesley feels possessive.

it’s a shameful feeling, but it’s one he can’t help. he’s tolerated many things, enough of them that make him wash down the bitter taste of jealousy with the most soothing tea he can find in his collection. but this? this is beyond the patience of even a kind warden such as himself.

you, whether you or anyone else in this fortress knows it, are his to protect.

so he walks up, fisting the inmate’s shirt and lifting him up to drag away from you, jaw tight and locked as he asks lowly, “is there a problem? if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were giving this lovely lady here some trouble.”

“y-your grace,” the man, to his credit, has a good mind to look remorseful, eyeing you nervously for a moment before rapidly shaking his head. “n-no, i was just…i was just askin’ her if she’d like some help findin’ her way is all. you know the fortress can be confusin’ ’n such.”

the inmate trails off, nervously chuckling as he quivers in the warden’s unforgiving hold.

wriothesley glances at you, raising an unconvinced eyebrow as he asks, “and do you need any help finding your way, miss?”

“no,” you shake your head, voice a bare whisper.

his jaw tightens further, glancing back at the man before he snarls lowly, “then you leave her alone. don’t let me catch you bothering her again, understood?”

“y-yes, your grace!”

wriothesley releases the man’s shirt, crumpled from his iron grip as he stares, eyes narrowed—threatening, even, as he waits for the brave soul (for anyone who bothers you where he’s in charge is the bravest of all souls) to leave. not one moment is wasted before you watch the inmate scramble away, leaving you alone with a tense, disgruntled duke in your hands.

“thank you,” you whisper, “i’m not sure how much longer he’d have bothered me if you hadn’t shown up.”

“anyone else ever try that before?” he seethes. you’ve never seen him so angry before—something about it feels almost personal.

you shake your head, stepping away from the wall as you walk over to him. “no, wriothesley,” you murmur, “no one gives me a hard time. this was a first.”

“let me know if anyone bothers you,” he grunts, fist still clenched even with no shirt to hold like earlier. “i’ll take care of it.”

you eye the way it’s tightly curled, knuckles almost ghostly white from the pressure before you gently grab his hand, working his fingers loose from his tight grip and rubbing a soothing thumb over the crescent mark from his nails along his palm.

“of course,” you smile softly, “though, i’m sure word will spread quickly that the warden doesn’t appreciate his doctor being bothered by persistent men. i don’t think there will be any repeats of this incident.”

he should feel ashamed.

you think so highly of him—defaulting to believing he’d saved you because he was only worried for your wellbeing, and not because it burned him alive to see a man so close to you, a man who desired you just as much as he did and had stooped to such unchivalrous methods to have you.

faintly, he’s aware that your hand is still grasping his, still rubbing a thumb over the angry, red marks along his palm as you study him carefully. he’s sure there’s not much he hides in his expression—you must be reading him like an open book. he can’t bring himself to care, however, not when the sight of someone else pinning you to a wall and towering over you is still so fresh in his head.

“something on your mind, your grace?” you ask, leaning closer.

perhaps, if he was a stronger man, one with more firm principles, he’d know to pull away and give you your space. but you lean closer, and he’s weak to his own desires, so he takes it as an invitation to lean closer himself.

“yes,” he admits, “i…i’m afraid i had less than honorable intentions when stepping in.”

“oh?” you raise a brow, looking at him in fond amusement. maybe you already know, he thinks, if your lack of surprise tells him anything. “enlighten me, then. what were your intentions?”

“to make sure no man comes close to you,” he mumbles, leaning closer while you do the same, your noses just barely brushing as your breath all but mingles.

“why?” you ask. it almost sounds like a plead—like you’re waiting to hear something desperately.

“because it’s unbearable to see you with other men,” he says hoarsely. if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it. but he has reason to believe you’re quite the opposite, in fact, when your eyes seem to brighten.

“and if i were to say i appreciate your intentions?” you ask softly.

finally, his jaw loosens—instead, he replaces the clench with a loose, easy grin, one that allows him to chuckle lowly as he stares at you with a playful disbelief.

“that so?” he hums, “perhaps then you’d care to join me for dinner today, milady—i’ll have the finest meal the cafeteria has to offer waiting for you.”

“on a date?” you ask hopefully.

“on a date,” he confirms with a slight nod.

you kiss his cheek, making his breath catch in his throat as you step away and smile gleefully. “i’ll see you at dinner then, your grace.”

NEUVILLETTE

the first day you skip your newfound routine of tea and desserts with neuvillette and the many, many melusines that join, it rains. harshly so, in fact.

you walk up to the palais, soaked from the unexpected weather as you grin sheepishly at a concerned sedene.

“madame!” she gasps, “oh, you’ve been caught in the weather!”

“it’s alright, sedene,” you chuckle, “it’s nothing new in fontaine to have unexpected rain. i suppose i should’ve planned accordingly. is monsieur neuvillette in his office? i have papers for him,” you hold up a file.

sedene fidgets for a moment, hesitant as she says, “yes…he’s in his office but…well, i should warn you that he’s not in the best of moods.”

“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, “how unfortunate. i’ll make it quick. they’re quite urgent papers.”

she nods at your promise—and just before you can turn to leave, she stops you, seemingly debating before making a final comment.

“you didn’t join us today, madame,” she starts, “for tea today during the monsieur’s break.”

“oh,” you tilt your head in surprise for a moment, “you’re right, i didn’t. i apologize if you were waiting on me. i was caught up with much paperwork to finish before i came in.”

“i see. perhaps monsieur neuvillette will appreciate knowing that, then,” she smiles.

before you can ask, she skips away, finding a group of melusines in the corner. you watch as they whisper away behind their paws, blinking back your confusion before walking towards the door of neuvillette’s office, knocking gently.

“monsieur neuvillette? may i come in? i have some papers that must be delivered to you.”

there’s a shuffle from inside, a clearing of the iudex’s throat before a raspy, “yes, of course. come in.”

you enter, walking in slowly as you close the distance between the door and his desk, smiling as you set the file down in your hands. he looks rather…well, you’re not sure, exactly—perhaps the best word would be melancholy. suddenly, sedene’s words from earlier ring in your head, and you wonder if there’s any relation between your absence and his seemingly downcast mood.

so you give him an apologetic look as you speak. “i apologize if my absence was a surprise to you today. it seems i lost track of time with paperwork. i hope you enjoyed a peaceful break with the melusines,” you hum, “you certainly need a proper break with all the duties you take on.”

against your better judgement, you reach over, brushing a strand of misplaced hair from his forehead and tucking it back in place. rarely does the chief justice of fontaine ever look less than prim and proper, if ever at all—and the action causes you to pause just as much as it does him.

he breaks the silence first, and if he notices the slight flustered expression on your face, he doesn’t point it out as he says gently, “it’s quite alright. i’m sure you’re a busy individual.”

“i do quite enjoy my routine visit,” you say shyly, “it was a shame i couldn’t join today. but rest assured, i’ll be present tomorrow.”

“i’m glad to hear it,” he seems to brighten a bit, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he admits in a quieter voice, “truthfully, i had assumed you didn’t want to join me—or excuse me, us,” he coughs, correcting himself at the end.

“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, crinkles forming in your forehead as you quickly shake your head, “of course i love joining you. today was a rare occasion, i’m afraid. i hope i didn’t upset you, monsieur.”

“no,” he shakes his head just as quickly. he coughs, clearing his throat as he adds, “it’s just that i…well, i have come to enjoy your company. a little more than i perhaps should.”

he doesn’t meet your gaze, cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink as you take in his words. silently after a moment, with a bright grin on your face that spreads across your lips and finds itself in the deepest of crinkles in your eyes, you slowly reach over to cup his face.

neuvillette, no matter how trained in self control, cannot help but lean into your touch, staring at you with wide eyes as you rub a delicate circle into the swell of his cheek.

“i’ve come to enjoy your company as well, monsieur. perhaps…perhaps it would be nice to enjoy each other’s company outside of the palais as well,” you offer. and then, eyeing the small opening in the door, you add, “somewhere away from prying eyes.”

neuvillette watches as the door quickly shuts, the soft giggles of the melusines muffled behind the door as he chuckles in amusement. his hand cups the back of your own, cheek laying comfortably in your palm.

“yes,” he murmurs softly, “i think i would love that.”

ALHAITHAM

alhaitham is not drunk today.

you can tell when you open the door because he’s not swaying, or slurring his words, or staring at you with a hazy look. instead, he’s perfectly sober, perfectly rational, and perfectly collected alhaitham.

you look at him in surprise before smiling in greeting.

“you’re not drunk for once,” you murmur, “i don’t think i ever get a visit from you when you’re not drunk.”

the words make him wince a bit—he doesn’t like the implication of that. alhaitham enjoys your company when he’s not inebriated, especially when he’s not inebriated, in fact. mainly because he can actually recall things that way, like the way you laugh and the crinkle of your eyes. but somehow, being drunk has become a bit of a weekly routine for him at the tavern with his friends (which really, is just cyno and tighnari, and of course, kaveh—but kaveh can hardly be considered a friend these days).

coming to your doorstep every week when he’s drunk becomes a byproduct of his habits. he can’t control them, like an involuntary muscle that moves on its own accord without his permission. just like his heart beats and pumps blood, his feet carry him to find you.

it’s natural, autonomic.

“i didn’t want to drink tonight,” he explains, rubbing his neck awkwardly. alhaitham is blunt—speaking his mind is not a complicated task. he’s sure of his thoughts and opinions, and the response people give them is of little concern to him.

but his thoughts aren’t very coherent when they come to you. he’s not sure of even a single thing, in fact. sure, he knows he likes you—really, really likes you. but sometimes, he contemplates if he’s fallen in love with you. he can’t tell, if he’s being honest, because he’s never been in love before. it’s uncharted waters for even someone as knowledgeable as him.

and then there’s the more difficult part. he’s not sure if you feel the same, or if you’d respond positively to the idea of his developed feelings. logic tells him you’re kind, compassionate, deeply understanding. perhaps you’d let him down gently and still consider him a good friend if you don’t feel the same. but for some reason, there’s an illogical part of him. one he doesn’t recognize. one that tells him that you might walk away and never look twice in his direction again as soon as you realize the nature of his feelings.

logic doesn’t win in his mind for once. it hasn’t for a very long time. it’s why he doesn’t tell you for so long how he feels.but tonight he plans to change that.

regardless of your feelings, requited or unrequited, alhaitham will tell you how he feels. he owes you that much, for all the careful care and deduction you put into handling his drunk self. for all the meals you made and let him eat before letting him crash on your couch. for all the cups of coffee you made his hungover self as you carefully tiptoed around your own home so the noise wouldn’t disturb his pounding head.

he clears his throat, fiddling with his fingers as he stares at his feet.

“do you want to come in?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea. i came…i came to say something.”

“i see,” you nod, “then by all means, share what you have to say.”

it’s not so easy. not when he tries to plan the words in his head as he walks to your home, and not when he’s standing before you. alhaitham is a linguist. he speaks over twenty languages, some of which are known to be romantic by nature. he’s read the divinest of poems and decoded the most complicated of hieroglyphics. he, of all people, should excel in putting words together.

but his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth as he stares at you, though. distantly, he’s aware he must look stupid. standing here, silent and stiff as you stand by your door and wait for him to spit out what he has to say.

so he says the first thing he can think—and it makes his face burn as soon as he realizes what he says. “your sabz meat stew is my favorite.”

you grin, chuckling in amusement as you murmur, “oh my, i’m flattered. you came all this way to praise my cooking?”

“n-no,” he sighs in embarrassment, “that…that’s not what i meant.”

you hum, smiling at him softly as you patiently wait for him to speak again. a part of him feels like you’re aware of something, something that maybe even he’s not aware of himself. but he doesn’t want to dwell on that—perhaps your knowledge is a product of his drunken rambles, and he’s not sure he wants to even begin imagining what that might look like. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“well, if you must know,” you giggle, “i enjoy making your favorite for you.”

“i enjoy your stew,” he mumbles, concentrating for a moment before his face hardens with determination and he looks at you, “i enjoy waking up on your couch, and drinking your coffee, and the way you hum when you get ready for the day. it’s enjoyable because it’s you.”

you process his words for a moment before smile slowly, eyeing him with wonder as you break into a fit of giggles. he doesn’t have time to dwell on whether or not you’re laughing at him because there’s an arm looping around his bicep, pulling him in past your door and pressing him against it as soon as it’s shut.

you’re close—it’s the first thing he notices, chest brushed against his chest as you look up at him with a fond, affectionate expression.

“you’re a smart man, alhaitham,” you murmur, “i’m sure you can figure out why i make your favorite every time you come. and make your coffee just how you like. and let you sleep in on my couch when i could be spending my morning enjoying the sun.”

he wants to tell you that he doesn’t feel very smart when he’s around you. it’s like logic is a foreign concept as soon as your smile invades his line of sight. but words are difficult enough to produce when you’re so close, he doesn’t think he could tell you even if he tried.

instead, he asks, “because you’re kind?”

“not kind enough to do groceries for two every weekend,” you chuckle. “unless…”

“unless…?” he asks breathlessly.

“unless it’s you, silly,” you snort. “do fill in the lines, will you?”

he allows himself to hope. because it doesn’t take logic to let himself hope you feel the same way he does.

“if…” he takes a deep breath, taking a moment to contemplate before boldly settling his hands on your hips, “if i come here next week sober, would you still open the door for me?”

“of course,” you whisper.

“if i came whenever i wanted, would you still open the door for me?” he asks, eyes peering into yours desperately, begging you to tell him what he wants to hear.

you sigh, gently cupping his cheeks as he closes his eyes and shudders. “always,” you breathe, “will you come?”

“yes,” he nods. his shoulders slump—in relief and in pure bliss as he lets his head drop to the crook of your neck, pressing his nose into your warm skin as you cradle the back of his head. “because i enjoy coming home to you.”

“and i enjoy welcoming you home,” you murmur.

and it’s at the same time that you kiss the side of his head and he kisses the soft skin of your neck, a stumbling mess of limbs pressed against one another as you both find your way to collapse on your familiar couch.

KAMISATO AYATO

it’s midnight when there’s a knock on your door. it’s rushed, an incessant tapping against the surface that almost has you concerned, but the familiar face through the peephole eases your worries.

and then it hits you—ayato is here. beyond the question of how he has the time to visit you so unexpectedly, there’s the concern of what people might think if he’s seen here so late, standing outside your door.

“ayato? why are you here?” you look at him in confusion as you open the door, eyebrows furrowing as he smiles at you.

“well, hello. such an enthusiastic greeting you’ve afforded me,” he says playfully, making you roll your eyes. “won’t you even invite me in?”

“well, come on then,” you huff, “it’s always something or another with you.”

“whatever do you mean?” he gasps, a hand pressing to his chest in mock hurt, “i’ve simply come to have a heartfelt conversation.”

“at this hour?” you cross your arms, scoffing at his timing. still, you could never turn him away.

it’s not of any trouble to you—ayato knows it too. but there’s something oddly vulnerable about having him in your home, and unexpectedly at that. suddenly, everything feels out of place and untidy to you, a contrast to the large, sophisticated estate you’re sure he must be used to. you shift on your feet, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of someone as important as the yashiro commissioner, standing in your small home where you have nowhere to hide.

“ah,” he nods in amusement, “how impolite of me. shall i take my departure, then?”

“i could hardly turn the yashiro commissioner away without allowing him to speak,” you shake your head, fighting back a smile as he grins. “pray tell, what could have prompted such a spontaneous visit?”

“i’d like to ask for your hand,” he says bluntly.

you blink, gaping at him in disbelief. ayato has never been cruel—in fact, he’s always been much the opposite. especially to you. he’s become painfully important, a friendship you’ve never expected but cannot fathom existing without now that you have him.

but something about this feels cruel, like he’s aware of the deeper feelings you’ve accidentally let surface in the process, feelings you try to push back desperately. how could the yashiro commissioner be seen with someone so far from his realm? someone so disconnected from his world and status?

you furrow your brows, looking at him unimpressed as you murmur, “that’s hardly funny, ayato. be serious.”

“i am serious,” he tilts his head, “i, kamisato ayato, would like to ask for your hand, milady. if you would be so kind, that is.”

his hand is offered to you—and something in your aches to reach for it. to feel his fingers intertwined with yours, to feel the rough calluses of his hands from years of swordsmanship, to feel the gentle warmth of his palm pressed up against yours.

“i-in marriage?” you ask in utter confusion.

he chuckles, hand still outstretched as he raises an eyebrow. “well, i figured marriage would be a bit sudden, but far be it from me to deny such an enthusiastic idea.”

you’re not sure why (or maybe you are, and you simply hate to admit it), but there’s a burning sting in the back of your eyes. something bubbling between humiliation and hurt and flooding in the form of tears as you stare at him unsure if he’s lost his mind, or if he’s simply joking at your expense.

ayato has never made you feel like a victim of casual cruelty from his end, so a small part of you wonders if he’s truly serious. but the more logical part of you tells you that if not a mere attempt at playfulness, what else could this be?

“this isn’t funny,” you whisper, voice small. “i hardly find such pranks entertaining, ayato. i thought you to be better than that.”

it’s silent. deafeningly so, in fact.

his hand drops—slowly, hesitant as he eyes you in uncertainty. he takes a step towards you, closing the distance enough to notice every small detail of your face, but leaving enough of a gap so as not to overstep.

“i hardly find any entertainment in offering myself up, either,” he murmurs, “do reject me gently if you intend to. i’m afraid my age is catching up to me—i have a weak heart.”

“you’re hardly old,” you snort, watching him suppress a smile as he studies you. “you’re really being serious?”

“do you doubt me?”

“i suppose not,” you whisper. his hand extends to you again, something hopeful in his eyes, something almost desperate as he stares at you and waits for you to finally take it in your grasp.

your hand slowly finds his, fingertips grazing those calluses you’ve noticed for so long, rough and firm under the delicateness of your touch. finally, it hits you he came without gloves on, and you realize it must be for the chance of feeling your skin against his, bare touch with no fabric to separate either of you.

you feel him, taking in the years and years of training that show through such toughened skin, and he watches you carefully as you trace along his palm before flattening your own against him, slowly lacing your fingers together.

“i have found the man who attacked you,” he says quietly, “and i’m ashamed to admit the…unsavory methods i was prepared to take to punish his crimes.”

“i hope you wouldn’t stoop to such levels for me,” you say quietly.

“i fear there isn’t much i wouldn’t resort to for your safety,” he admits.

“i’m hardly worth such trouble,” you shake your head, smiling softly as you reach over and cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently against the mole you’ve always ached to feel. whether from the brush of your lips or from the graze of your thumb, you’ve always wondered how it’d feel. “there are much more worthy women to be the object of your affections, my lord.”

“ayato,” he corrects. it sounds like a plead, if you listen carefully. “and not to me,” he shakes his head. “it’s you i desire. i’m afraid i cannot concentrate on my duties until i have you. the nation shall befall a most unfortunate fate if i must suffer a single night more without having you.”

“i’m starting to think i am the only hope inazuma has left,” you roll your eyes, staring at him in wonder, “it seems it has fallen to me to ensure we have a functioning yashiro commissioner.”

“i do hope you’ll take such responsibilities seriously.” his hand lays over your own, keeping your touch in place as he leans his face into your palm further, closing his eyes and relishing in your touch.

“oh, ayato,” you chuckle breathlessly, eyes watery as you step closer, closing the gap until your chest presses against his. you wonder if he can hear the rapid thrumming of your heart, if he can feel it. “you’ll be the death of me.”

“i should hope not,” he chuckles, leaning closer and closer until his lips hover over yours, just a millimeter away from brushing against them, “i fear for my own sanity should such an ill fate come before you.”

“oh kiss me, you fool,” you scoff tiredly at his antics.

he doesn’t waste a moment, pressing his lips hungrily against yours, hands wandering to your waist and instantly pulling you closer, fitting his palm to cradle the small of your back. he chases your lips frantically when you pull away, a low grunt of disapproval rumbling from his chest before he plants his lips against yours once more. he kisses you like he’s crossed oceans upon oceans to find you, fixed on keeping you not more than a fingertips distance away at all times so that he’ll never lose you again.

and finally—finally, once he’s decided he’s sufficiently stolen the air from your lungs, he allows you to pull back and breathe.

“i’m afraid i can be a rather overbearing lover,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking them lightly. “you’ll hardly be free of me should i desire your company.”

you chuckle, leaning to kiss his mole softly, cradling his face. “i believe i’ll find a way to cope,” you grin.

ayato was fun to write last time, and he was just as fun to write this time and i am realizing i have some real hidden feelings for the man the more i write him. i really enjoy doing his dialogue, though i’m not sure if i do it justice. i sure hope i do 🥹

#writing tag #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #alhaitham x reader #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x you #neuvillette x you #alhaitham x you #ayato x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #wriothesley fluff #neuvillette fluff #alhaitham fluff #ayato fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff

[steddielations]

Wayne pov, implied neglect, abandonment

Wayne gets a call from Hawkins Elementary that Eddie hasn’t been to school in two days.

They couldn’t get ahold of Al on the phone, as usual. Wayne hopes his suspicions are wrong, but he already knows what he’s going to find when he shows up to the shabby old house on Philadelphia street with a McDonald’s bag in hand.

His knock on the door goes unanswered, but he sees small fingers and big round eyes peeking through the side window blinds. 

“Hey, Eddie, it’s your Uncle Wayne. Open the door, it’s alright.”

Eddie shuffles away from the window, but there’s still no answer.

“You hungry? I brought those nugget things you like, that’s all. Some kinda toy in here too.”

After a moment, the door slowly opens a sliver. One big button eye peeks through the crack and a pale skinny arm reaches out.

Wayne hands over the food. “Gonna let me come inside?” 

Eddie’s arm snakes back in with the bag like a claw machine. But after another moment, the door swings open fully, revealing Eddie in rumpled clothes at least a couple days worn. The shadows under his eyes tell Wayne all he needs to know.

“Dad’s gone to the store,” Eddie smiles nervously, he didn’t inherit Al’s ability to lie behind it. “He said he’ll be right back.”

Wayne just nods as he comes inside. One look around confirms what he already knew. By the window, there’s a blanket and a scatter of candy wrappers and empty soda cans where Eddie’s been sleeping. Waiting and watching the driveway for Al.

This wouldn’t be the first time Al’s gone off and left Eddie to fend for himself. Wayne’s been helping out as much as he can since Eddie’s poor mama passed. He doesn’t know much about raising kids but he knows Al’s one dumb selfish bastard to be leaving Eddie alone for days since the ripe age of 8.

Wayne ignores the twist in his chest and the stab of anger he feels and doesn’t mention it. He follows Eddie to the coffee table in front of the couch where Eddie digs into the McDonald’s sack.

“School called and said you weren’t there. You feelin’ bad?” He reaches out, gently pushing back Eddie’s wild curls to feel his forehead. He’s surprised Eddie lets him, too busy scarfing down chicken nuggets. “No fever.” Wayne notes, but Eddie’s hair needs a good wash.

Eddie’s narrow shoulders slump a bit. He doesn’t look at Wayne, tearing open his chocolate milk with his teeth. 

“I just— didn’t wanna go today. I hate school. Miss Taylor always gives me a bad behavior grade even when I act the best in class. She calls me Junior. Munson Junior.”

“Thought you liked being called Junior. Like your dad.”

Eddie shrugs, those shadows darkening on him. “Everyone forgets I have my own name too. Sometimes I just wanna be Eddie.”

Already, he’s feeling the weight of his last name. Al taught him to hotwire the second he turned 10 and how to pick locks even before that. Munson tradition, Al wouldn’t listen when Wayne told him that’s bullshit. What seem like cool tricks to Eddie now already make him guilty in everyone’s eyes. Wayne’s been feeling it all his life, thanks to his old man and now Eddie’s got Al to thank for making it even worse.

“That’s good, you just keep reminding them,” Wayne says, being careful with his next words. “When you finish that, why don’t you go pack a bag, alright? You can come stay with me until your dad gets back.”

Eddie goes stiff, chewing slower now. “It— it hasn’t been long. He said he’d be right back.” His eyes drift over to Wayne, checking to see if he buys it. Wayne doesn’t. So Eddie huffs, “I wanna stay here. I hate the trailer park.”

That’s just him repeating Al’s shit talk, so Wayne doesn’t take offense. “Your friend’s been askin’ about you. That little girl next door.”

Eddie perks up at that, “Ronnie?” Wayne nods and thinks that does the trick for a second, but Eddie stubbornly sulks again. “I can’t go. Dad told me to stay here until he gets back.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be here alone. You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not scared to stay by myself,” Eddie insists, sitting up straighter, looking even younger trying to look older. “Dad said I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m 10 now and I can look after myself. He taught me to use the stove and everything. I always do fine on my own.”

“So he’s been leaving a lot, then? You know you can call me to come pick you up,” Wayne tries not to frame it like it’s Eddie’s fault, pointing to where his phone number is pinned on the fridge with a magnet.

Eddie’s lip wobbles despite how he tries to square his jaw.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“You ain’t—”

“You said to call if I need you and I don’t need you, Wayne! I'm fine!”

Eddie shoves the food away, his eyes wide and shiny when he cuts them back to Wayne. Not glaring with anger, just hurt. 

“It’s not fine,” Wayne tells him, gentle as the first time he held him, just a tiny thing all bundled up in Elizabeth’s knitting. “Your dad’s got his head in his ass again. You can’t stay here on your own, no matter what he said. I ain’t leaving you by yourself.”

“I’m not going.” Eddie’s more pleading now than arguing. “I have to stay here so Dad can find me when he gets back. Don’t you get that? If I’m not here, I won’t see him.”

That’s what it’s really about, Eddie thinking it’s his responsibility to keep up with his Dad. Instead of the other way around.

“If he comes looking for you, he’ll know where to find you.” But Al won’t. It’s never Eddie that he comes back for. Wayne doesn’t tell Eddie that, but now Eddie’s starting to learn that on his own. Al proved it to him time and time again.

“Why do you even care?” Eddie’s angry now. But it’s not really Wayne that he’s mad at. They both know that.

“It’s alright, son, c’mon now.” Wayne reaches for him but Eddie quickly pushes his hand away.

“You aren’t my dad.” Tears escape with the words, and seeing his pain hurts Wayne more than anything he could say, or do. He pushes Wayne again. “So why do you care? Why are you here?”

He doesn’t need an answer, he just needs to let it out.

So Wayne sits there while Eddie shoves his chest and cries harder, “You aren’t my dad. Why do you care?” Wayne curls his hands around Eddie’s smaller ones as the question turns to, “Why aren’t you?” Then it’s a broken little sob of, “Why aren’t you my dad?”

Wayne catches Eddie when he finally tires himself out, and instead of pushing Wayne away, Eddie’s clinging to him. Eddie’s holding on like Wayne’s all he’s got left in the world. Wayne hugs Eddie to his chest, wishing there was more he could do.

Al put a hole in Eddie and he’s digging it deeper everyday, one that Wayne won’t ever quite fit into. He tries to fill it the best he can, giving Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer, going to the talent show because Al never makes good on his promises to be there for Eddie, not letting Eddie stay in this damn house alone waiting for someone who’s never gonna show up. Maybe Wayne’s not that someone, but he can still be here for Eddie. And he’s gonna be.

“C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”

#munson family stuff on the mind sorry #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #ficlet #ronnie ecker #al munson #rueswriting #mp

[wherewritersgotodie-blog]

Workin’ Hands (pt. 1) (Kit Walker x reader)

Pt. 1, Pt. 1.5, Pt. 2

can you resist the town player asking you out on a date after finding you on a lonely street late at night?

warnings: player!kit. smoking. misogyny?

Massachusetts, 1962

“Got a light, gorgeous?” you hear a voice out from the darkness behind you. You jump, turning to face the source.

Kit Walker. Town playboy. Gorgeous, but a total rascal. A dog, you heard.

“Yes,” you nod, taking a lighter out from your small handbag.

You’re stuck on the side of the road, car broken down, the hood popped, not that you knew anything about how you’d even begin to fix it.

You flick the lighter and he raises his eyebrow, smirking. He leans into the fire, putting the end of his cigarette to it, breathing. “Thank you, miss.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side. “Car gone bust?” he says, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Yeah, and I don’t have the slightest clue how ta’ fix it,” you sigh, looking at it, tilting your head as well.

He walked to the car, leaving his cigarette in his mouth as he talks. “This is why women shouldn’t be driving,” he says, smiling.

“Oh, really? Only women’s cars break down?” you check him.

“No, but you haven’t got the mind to fix it up, I’m sure,” he affirms, leaning over the hood.

“Girls are every bit as capable as boys, it’s just that no one bothers to teach us,” you cross your arms, looking at him. He turns around, walking to you.

“Show me your hands,” he smiles.

“Why?” you ask him, turning your head to the side slightly.

“I’m checkin’ somethin’, sweetheart,” he smirks.

You put your hands out. He uses his hands to turn them over facing up, then looks at your palms.

“Honey, these ain’t workin’ hands,” he says, running his fingers over the inside of your hand. “Feel mine,” he presses the end of his fingers against yours, rubbing them back and forth, “They’re all calloused so I can work with my hands. But your hands… your hands are soft as a daisy,” he says, running the back of his fingers over your palm to emphasize his point. “They’re for girls’ things. Ain’t no offense meant, it’s just true.”

You stay silent, looking up at him. He’s satisfied by this. He walks back to the car, then sits in the drivers seat. He gets out, looks at you as he shuts the door, and says, “Aww, darling,” he speaks like you’re a child, “The second brake was on, sugar.”

You blush, feeling foolish for not noticing your car had been fine, you simply pushed a wrong button.

“Aw, it’s alright, sweetheart, you couldn’t’a known,” he says with a condescending tone.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Alright, well, thank you very much, sir,” you say, shaking his hand.

He shakes it firmly, then smiles, “Your hands are softer than most, I’d say.”

“Is that so?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods. “You’re a lovely thing, you know? You shouldn’t be out here alone so late at night.”

“Well, Gosh, I didn’t mean to, but I was working late and then,” you shake your head, “Well, you know the rest.”

He smiles, “I do.”

“Alright, well, have a good night,” you attempt to end the conversation again.

“I’m Kit. Kit Walker,” he says, stepping to the side so he was in line with your feet again.

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you say.

“Hm. Lovely name for a lovely girl,” he smiles, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “(Y/L/N),” he reflects, “Oh, yeah, Mr. (Y/L/N), he comes into the shop sometimes.”

“Oh, my, please don’t tell my father you saw me out here,” you beg him, panicking.

“Woah, woah, I’m not tellin’ anybody anything,” he put his hands up. “Why, your dad strict or something?”

“Oh, very,” you respond.

“Oh yeah? How so?” he walks closer to you, crowding your space slightly.

“Well, I ain’t supposed to talk to boys, first of all,” you say quietly, looking away from him.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, putting a toothpick from his pocket between his teeth. “So you can’t date?” he smirks.

“You’re not being very appropriate,” I respond.

“Hey! I’m not askin’ for any reason, I’m just wonderin’,” he smiles.

“No, I can’t date.”

“Well, that’s a shame, I would have asked you out,” he rolls the toothpick around with his tongue.

‘Just wonderin’.’ You shake your head. “I’ve heard things about you, Kit Walker,” you shake your head, almost scolding him.

“Like what, sugar?” he smirks.

“That you hang around lots of girls,” you retort.

“Well, I don’t date none of ‘em,” he says. “I’d take you out, I’d make you my girlfriend. Easy.”

“Right,” you say, walking to your car door.

He runs up behind you, cornering you against the car. “C’mon, you owe me! Just one date, then you never have to see me again,” he smiles.

“Alright, fine. One,” you say. “And it stays between you and me,” you nod once.

“You got it, sugar.”

They’re so easy.

#kit walker #evan peters x reader #evan peters #kit walker ahs #ahs #american horror story #ahs asylum #american horror story asylum #kit walker asylum #kit walker x reader #tate langdon #kai anderson #fantiction #evan peters fanfic

[rosecoloreddesire]

Not A Lie ~ Elvis Presley

Summary: You could never imagine THE Elvis Presley to show up in your little diner. How can you tell your parents that…he’s your fiancé??

Note: IM BACK! I’m going to be graduating in February so I’m hoping I can get some writing out! I’m so sorry if this is a bad come back? I haven’t proofread yet! But I think it’s good 💙 missed you all so much!

Warnings: FLUFF!

“Y/N, you gotta stop lyin’! You know how much your daddy loves Elvis!” You huff out as you chase your mom around the kitchen island.

“Mama! Just listen to me! I’m being honest! I am enga-“ she put a finger to your lips as you both hear the front door unlock, opening to your daddy whistling a soft tune of Blue Suede Shoes.

“Not a word in front of him, got it?” You sigh loudly not wanting her to put you down.

“But mama! He’s comin’ ton-“ she cuts you off with an ice cold glare. You finally let it go, walking past your father to your room.

“God damn it all! Why won’t anyone ever listen to me?” The small phone in your room begins to ring, picking it up you sit on your bed. A certain southern drawl cheers you up.

“Hey there, lil’ lady. How’s my girl doin’? I’ll be there soon I promise. My parents are wantin’ us to get together and do some photos here at Graceland for the family album.” He chuckles while you heard his grandma in the back.

“Hi grandma! Um, pictures? Like engagement pictures?” You nervously hum, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“Well, I did get you that pretty rock on your finger. And I think that means your stuck with lil’ old me, baby.” Your cheeks flush as he lowly whispers.

“I’ll see you soon. Lest your flirtin’ make my face flush!” His giggles are cut off as you hang up. Your face aglow. Your phone rings once again.

“Elvis Presley- if you don’t stop-“

“Elvis Presley?! I knew it!” Your best friend Amelia was on the other line….her screams of joy influence you to push the phone as far away from you as possible. You wince as she continues.

“Amelia Jones! You needa keep it down! What’ll you do if your mama says she won’t be gettin’ you into my mama’s salon this Thursday!” The other line dies down.

“You know your mamas the only one you can actually do my hair and make it look good!” You chuckle as she tries to explain herself.

“Yes! That’s why when I tell you the boy I’ve been datin’ all year and last year is Mr. Elvis Presley.” You state confidently as she squees softly.

“That’s why you wasn’t impressed when we saw him for the first time! You were kissin’ him!!!” Her giggles and squeals made you roll your eyes. Amelia was always into the whole romance and love at first sight tropes in the movies.

“Y/N! Get down here! Your mother and I need to have a talk with you!” You grumble and hope your mom hadn’t told your father about the whole engagement.

“Gotta go, Ames! Bye!” You hung up, smooth your skirt and make your way down the stairs.

“You know the policy we have on lyin’, young lady.” Your daddy was sitting on the couch with your mother.

“Daddy, I ain’t lyin’ to you! I really am-“ your mothers laugh breaks you off again.

“We are supposed to believe that Elvis Presley is coming tonight to meet us after askin for your hand?” She fans herself. Your mom usually was so supportive but you do have to hand it to her. This was kinda crazy.

“I ain’t! He’s really sweet! His mama and daddy are arranging a photo shoot for us to be in the Presley family album! I’m gonna be a Presley, daddy!”

“I wanna believe you but how did you even meet?”

—

“And will that be all for you today?” The man in front of you was clearly flirting as you wrote off his receipt.

“Uh actually this is gonna sound weird but are you an angel?” You rolled your eyes, waving your hand.

“Hm, I’ve actually never heard of that one but I am very aware thank you. Bye!” You spun around on your heel and grabbed a new pad and paper. You fixed your hair in the reflection of napkin holder.

“You handled that well, Darlin’.” You jump a little. The voice was low and oddly familiar. You turned with a flush to your cheeks.

“ yeah well creeps like that don’t like the word no so-“ you paused as you finally saw the person speaking to you.

“It’s a shame cause he ain’t wrong. But he forgot to say you look like a goddess.”

“You’re-“ you stuttered holding your hand to your chest.

“Your future boyfriend I hope.” You must have looked like a tomato with how warm your cheeks were getting.

“Uh- are you serious? Is this a prank?.”

“Here’s my number. Use it wisely.” And with a wink he was gone as fast as he came.

——

“I’m supposed to believe he came to our family restaurant when your mama and I were gone?” You nod desperately. You take your mothers hand and show her your ring.

“Oh my god, Y/N. That’s a real ring! How did you-“ your doorbell is going off before you can explain.

“Do you want to get that, daddy?” You ask softly, praying to whatever god that Elvis was standing at the door. He huffs as he sits up, making his way to the door.

“Afternoon- OH MY GOD. You-“ Your father brings your fiancé into a bear hug. Your father squeezes the poor boy as you giggle. Your skin flushing at the display.

“It’s really Elvis! What in the hell?” Your mom grasps your hands tightly as the boy walks into the house, more like pulled. You giggle as he finally sees you, a bit frazzled. He detaches himself from your father as he makes his way to you. His lips soft against your cheek as your body warms.

“Uh, mom, dad, this is my fiancé.” You spout awkwardly as Elvis slips his arm around you. Your father gleams with excitement.

“I understand why you didn’t ask for my blessin’, son! You can marry my daughter!” You’ve never seen your father so ecstatic in your life. Except the one time he won a ticket to see Elvis. Or the one time he heard Heart Break Hotel on the radio in his car. Huh….you are sensing a running theme…

“I really do love your daughter. It’s jus’ been rough tryin’ to get a time together to meet y’all.” He smiles boyishly at your parents. Your mom still reeling in the fact that you were telling the truth.

“D-did ya enjoy our family diner?” Your mom stutters out. You stifle laugh placing your hand over your mouth. You look at Elvis awaiting his answer.

“Of course, ma’am! Great atmosphere, great food, and even greater waitresses.” He bumps you with his shoulder as you blush.

“Well, don’t be a stranger, Mister Presley! Come on, we were just gettin’ ready for our meal!” Your father pushes Elvis to a chair at the table. You shakily sit next to him as your nerves still haven’t fully settled.

“Why our daughter?” Your breath hitches as your mom starts to plate the food.

“Lord, where do I start? She looks as if she walked right out of a Hollywood movie. An absolute starlet.” Your skin flushes as his hand drifts to your thigh.

“I wish! We met up with some of his Hollywood buddies and they were super sweet! They think Elvis has a real shot of hittin’ it big!” You smile as he laughs. His gaze focuses on you the whole time. How could he have found the most amazing thing to have come out of him having to hide from fans in a local diner? His eyes never leave your lips as you continue to sing his praises.

“I really think it’s a great idea to see you two married! Can you believe it, honey? We’d be related to the Presley’s!” Your dad claps as he excitedly dug into his food. Your mother still seems a little hesitant.

“What’s gonna stop you from chasin’ other girls around town? My daughter hasn’t even dated before you!” Your eyes widen as you take a bite of your dinner. You hadn’t really had that conversation with Elvis yet…

“I’m your first boyfriend?” You wince at his surprised tone. You turned to face him.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, never really thought about the whole dating thing. Until you kissed me at that charity concert…I-“ his lips are soft against your cheek. Your hand shaking in his hand.

“You don’t need to explain nothin’, darlin’. Thank you so much for the lovely dinner but I best be goin’ soon I only had a it of time to spare.” He began to get up as your father rose from his seat.

“How about you go with him, sweetheart? Your mom and I are gonna have a talk about all this.” You nod, hugging him quickly. You all but ran up the stairs to get away from the tension.

“How cute. Pink really fits you.” Elvis smirks as his fingers traced your bed sheets. You scoff as you pack a small bag.

“I haven’t gotten to change my sheets since I was like 10, E. Give me a break. Do you really want to do this?” Elvis’ hand caresses your face, pushing a few stray hairs out of your face.

“I want you. Every day. Afternoon. And night. You are all I think about.” His voice just a bit above a whisper. Your eyes were heavy as you stare at his lips.

“Can I be yours forever?” His lips were soft as he pulls you close. The kiss was delicate but passionate as he grips your hair slightly.

“If you’ll let me.”

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis movie #rosecoloreddesire #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #austin butler elvis #50s elvis #elvis x you #elvis 2022 #elvis fluff #fluff

[salsakiyoomi]

“is it me or have you gotten...bigger?”

miguel's question makes you whirl around to face him with a scowl on your face, insulted, “the hell's that supposed to mean?”

you know what it means though, you know what he means — with the morning sickness and the weird, godawful cravings, your body is…changing — you’ve missed your period this month and you've put on a little weight — your breast have swollen and your belly has bloated with a few stretch marks over your abdomen — you thought the changes were subtle at first but you guess you were wrong.

miguel shrugs, gesturing dismissively to your body, “you know, you’ve gotten bigger.”

you glare at him — he has always been a little too blunt with his words and comments —  you put your hands on your waist, “you know, that’s not exactly a very nice thing to say.”

he shrugs again and you want to punch him with how nonchalant he is about this, “‘m just saying the truth.”

“there is this thing called sugarcoating.” you shoot back, “and you don’t tell your wife that ‘she’s gotten bigger’ or any woman for that matter.”

you’re more snappy than usual — if this has been a passing comment on any other day, you probably would have laughed and scolded him, not today though, not with your hormones high on edge.

he chuckles, but it sounds more like a scoff almost as if he’s making fun of you, “come on, amor. it’s a good look on you.”

you frown at him and shake your head, sighing, “i'm not in the mood for your shit right now, miguel.”

you turn away from him, going back to folding the clothes — you haven’t told him about your pregnancy yet, unsure of how he would react, the two of you never really talked about having kids in the start of your relationship nor marriage, so finding the test stick positive was a dreadful surprise for you — although you should've known the two of you had too much fun a few weeks ago.

his arms wrap around your waist from behind, and he nuzzles his face in the nape of your neck, “you're so grouchy these days.” he murmurs, his deep voice so close to your ears makes you shiver and his hands trail lower and you tense when they slip under your shirt and his rough fingertips press gently against the soft skin of your swollen abdomen.

“and you’re so bitchy these days — all days.” you immediately retort. 

he chuckles and he turns you around to face him and he has a shit-eating grin on his lips that you oh, so badly want to slap off of his face, “how are those avocados and chocolate going for you?”

“they taste really nice, thanks.” you roll your eyes, attempting to squirm away from his embrace.

“did you get your period this month?”

his question makes you pause and you look at him with squinted eyes — sure, he knows your cycle. sure, he knows when you're moody and on your period but he’s never really asked if you got it during a month or not.

“yes.” you lie, speaking after a beat.

“you sure?” 

you groan, “what do you mean i’m sure? of course i am.”

“i’m just askin’, amor.” he hums, his thumbs press against your baby bump and you can’t help but wonder if he is doing it deliberately 

“miguel, what do you want?” you sigh, exasperated.

“nothing.” he replies smugly, and you’re sure he’s teasing you at this point as he leans down to kiss your jaw, “is there anything you wanna tell me?” he whispers.

you lean away and narrow your eyes at him, “what?”

“what?” he echoes innocently.

“is there anything you aren’t telling me?” you ask back, tone accusatory as you raise an eyebrow at him.

at this point, he’s rubbing circles with his thumbs on your swollen abdomen, “not as much as what you're not telling me.”

you frown at him, “okay, you know what? i’m done playing with you here.”

you attempt to pull away from him again but his hands now grip your hips to keep you in place, “miguel!” you groan — you usually liked it when he was in his playful moods but not today though, he’s just getting on your nerves.

“come on.” he laughs, “just talk to me, okay?”

“i would if it wasn’t such an insufferable task!”

“calm down.” he hums and his hands find your waist again, and he’s once again rubbing small circles with his thumbs on your bump, “are you sure there isn’t anything you wanna tell me?”

you shiver at his touch and your eyes narrow at him as it clicks, “you know, don’t you?”

“know what?” he asks, feigning confusion.

“asshole.” you groan, covering your face — you know he knows because of course he does, this was miguel, nothing gets past him.

“come on, you seriously thought that i wouldn’t find out?” he says with a laugh — he noticed when your body started changing because he damn well knows every inch of you, he noticed it in the way you constantly hugged yourself as if to hide your growing tummy and then he saw the pregnancy test in the bathroom bin, “avocados and chocolate? you don’t even like avocados.”

“why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, voice muffled by your hands as you peek at him through your fingers.

“i just wanted to see how long it would take for you to tell me first,” he answers simply and you groan again and he laughs, pulling your hands away from your face and placing a kiss on your lips, “no need to hide now, amor.”

“you’re such a dickhead.” you mumble against his lips, and his hands are on your swollen belly because he thinks that he probably won't be able to get them off of it in the next few months, because despite how unprepared he is — how unprepared the two of you are, he can’t help but feel excited, can’t help but be eager for the day his and yours baby comes — so he laughs at your comment, and presses a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

“your dickhead."

a/n : i got inspo from this drabble by @liliacamethyst i loved it sm 😭

#no bcz i dont usually write preggo fics but #ive been reading too many ones #so i had to write one #this is lowkey an alternate universe too #cant imagine our og miguel being happy #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel drabbles #miguel fluff #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 fluff #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #atsv x reader #miguel spiderverse #also this is so cheesy help

[hopefulromances]

Hi!! I love your writing so much!!

When I saw number 5 on your Drabbles list all I could think of was the team trying to figure out what’s going on with reader and Jamie and coming to the most wild conclusions like they did with Zava and Trent LMAO

AHH! This means so so much to me! Thank you!

I love this prompt so I hope you enjoy!

5. “Idiots. They are all idiots.”

Colin and Isaac peaked around the corner to stare down the hall as (Y/N) walked up the stairs. Surely she was going back and forth between offices, delievering messages and what not for Rebecca.

Since she'd come on the team as Rebecca's personal assistant, everything at Richmond had run smoother. (Y/N) was some kind of assistant extrodinare, memorizing Rebecca's needs in an instant and helping her to focus on the really important things.

She'd also fit right in with the Greyhounds. While her extreme A-Typer personality was intimidating at first but soon they warmed up to her and she softened for them.

But what was really getting the boys in a tizzle recently was her somewhat odd behavior around one certain Greyhound. Jamie Tartt always seemed to be missing right around the time that (Y/N) took her breaks, and during lunch, the both of them would disappear all together.

But the team was not one to back away from a mystery and made it their job to figure out exactly what was going on between the two of them. Right now, Colin and Isaac were on (Y/N) duty.

"What chu lookin' at?"

Jamie's voice from behind them caused Colin to jump, hitting his head on Isaac's chin. The two men cursed and grabbed their respective body parts.

"Fuck! Why'd you sneak up on us like that, bruv?" Isaac groaned, rubbing his chin.

"I didn't do nuthin'!" Jamie defended, walking over to sit in front of his locker. "It was you twos who were being weird."

Colin frowned as he rubbed his forehead, a red mark appearing right in the middle. "We weren't doing anything, were we Isaac?"

"Nope, nothin.'"

Jamie shrugged and whipped out his phone. Isaac looked down at Colin and nudged his head in Jamie's direction.

"So, Jamie!" Colin opened, standing up.

"Colin, I've told ya a million times, you don't need to keep askin me to use my lynx, just take it," Jamie dismissed, messing around with a filter on instagram.

"No, that's not- wait really?"

"Obviously."

Colin nodded, happy with this information. Isaac grunted, reminding Colin of the ask at hand. "Oh! I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch today. Roy told us about this new Kebab place down the road."

"If it's got anything to do with that old fart, I'm not interested," Jamie responded, standing up to grab his fanny pack.

"Oh, so you have plans then?" Isaac interjected, his gaze burning into an oblivious Jamie.

"Uh, yah? Eat lunch?" Jamie rolled his eyes. "Get away from you, twats for five minutes."

"Where are you goin then?" Colin boxed Jamie in. Isaac on one side of Jamie, Colin on the other. Jamie frowned at him, before nudging him out of the way.

"None of your fucking business, is it boyo?"

With that, Jamie was off down the hallway, walking past the same stairs the (Y/N) had climbed just a few minutes prior. Isaac and Colin looked at each other for a second before racing off down the hallway. They reached the boot room where seemingly the rest of the team was waiting.

When they entered the room, they were bombarded with questions flying at them.

"What did you learn?"

"Are they getting lunch together?"

"What lynx does Jamie have now?"

Isaac let out a bark to silence the crowd.

"Jamie didn't take the Kebab bait!" Isaac grunted, crossing his arms. "But he also wouldn't tell us where he was going."

"AH! So (Y/N)/Jamie lives," Dani exclaimed, looking around in exctiement.

He was met with shouts of disapproval and outrage.

"There is NO way that (Y/N) and Jamie are together," Bumbercatch argued. "(Y/N) is just too serious for him."

"Exactly, that's why it's clear they are starting a side hustle!" Jan Maas stated, raising his hand. "We should look to support them in their endeavors."

Again, there was cries of outrage as the boys all shouted their theories of what was going on with the two.

"Jamie is looking for a surrogate!"

"(Y/N) is his long lost sister!"

"She was actually hired to be Jamie's nanny to make sure he doesn't get into anymore trouble."

The theories went on, each more outrageous than the last. Unbeknownst to them, unoticed in the corner was Will. He'd been in there the whole time. He pulled out his phone and sent a message.

...

(Y/N)'s phone lit up in the cupholder between her and Jamie. Jamie was driving down the road, his sunglasses blocking his eyes. He had a hand on the wheel and the other was rubbing up and down her thigh gently.

(Y/N) reached over and grabbed her phone, letting out a giggle as she read his message.

"'the boys are properly distracted, have a good lunch' smiley face'" She read out, leaning over to show Jamie the photo of the boys arguing.

Jamie chuckled, glancing down at the phone. "Idiots, they're all idiots."

(Y/N) planted a kiss on Jamie's cheek before leaning back in her seat. "Yeah, but so are you."

Jamie smiled, content at the though of being (Y/N)'s idiot.

Hope you enjoyed!

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble #one shot

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Hi I have a Matt x reader x Frank castle smut request. Matt tells Frank what he does to you after his patrol, how he spoils you with his tongue, how tight you are and how good your pu$$y tastes. Matt takes Frank to your home and the 3 of you have fun together.

I've put a slightly different spin on this and sorry it's taken so long Nonnie!

|| Vacancy ||

Female reader x Frank Castle x Kingpin!Matt Murdock

w/c: 3200

Tags/warnings: When you want something Matt won't hesitate to give it to you. Two guys one girl, bit of oral, unprotected p in v, p in a, creampie. Thank you to @albatrossandivys for the moodboard! 😘 Teeheehee, this was fun to write!

"You got a good reason why you're so fuckin' late, Red?" Frank grumbles as Matt Murdock strides up to him at the bar.

Matt just smiles, he looks ridiculous in that red suit, matching fucking red-tinted glasses and stupidly quaffed hair. He makes a show of licking his lips.

"Yeah, and I can still taste her." He replies.

Frank shakes his head. "Christ… you planning on sharing the details of your sex life every time we meet?"

Matt shrugs and smirks. "Dunno, you just always seem… interested."

There's a silence for a while before Matt starts up again and Frank reluctantly resigns himself to it.

"Sometimes that's all she wants, my mouth between her thighs all night long. God, she tastes so fucking good Frank, and the sounds she makes…" He bites down on his lip for emphasis.

Frank shifts slightly, something that Matt doesn't miss. He leans in closer to him, his voice low in that fucking growly 'devil of hell's kitchen' way as he keeps on going, knowing how much it's riling Frank up.

"Sometimes she begs, when I'm fucking her, begs for more. You know, your name came up the other night." Matt tells him, so casually Frank wasn't sure he heard him right.

"My name came up?"

"Yeah. When we were fucking." He adds nonchalantly.

"Wh-when you were fucking…" Frank repeats with incredulity. "'course it did."

"Asked her if she thought she'd be able to handle you."

Frank almost chokes on his own spit.

"She acts all sweet and shy but she can't lie to me. Her cunt gripped my cock like a vice when I said your name, Frank. She wants you."

"Uh…"

"And anything my lady wants, you know I do all I can to make certain she gets. If you were to do this for me, I'll owe you one. So what do you say, Castle?"

Frank swallows and absently checks that the safety's on his handgun, his hands urgently in need of something to do. "Murdock, what the hell are you askin' me?"

"God, you can be so fucking dumb sometimes." Matt grins, shaking his head as he takes a sip of the whiskey the barman has put down for him. "Would you please, fuck my wife?"

Frank looks at him blankly and then sighs, staring out the window at the flashing lights and sirens of the night. "Jesus…"

He'd met you briefly a couple of times when Matt had brought him back to his place when he got a little more banged up than usual. You had helped stitch them both up and you tended to like doing it while wearing the skimpiest little outfits.

Frank scratches his stubbled chin while he acts like he's seriously mulling it over. "Is this some entrapment shit or somethin'?"

Matt just grins. "No, it's not. But I will be there of course, 'case you try to steal her away."

"Well alright, if that's what she wants. But if I'm gonna take care of her I'm doin' it my way."

Matt claps him on the back of his shoulder, pleased with his decision. "Attaboy!"

.

You're surprised but not shocked when you open the penthouse door to see Frank standing there in a sharp suit with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. Matty had told you to dress up for dinner and that he had a gift for you. You just thought that the gift would be a 'thing', not a person, and least of all Matt's friend, the man you admittedly had a bit of a 'thing' for.

"Hey." He says in an adorably gruff way in greeting.

"Frankie." You smile sweetly, accepting the flowers from him. "This is, unexpected… but nice, thank you."

He clears his throat as he's taking you in. You were wearing a beautiful long dress with a plunging neckline and side split, the soft fabric skimming over your curves. "Uh yeah. You look gorgeous."

"Oh Frank, thank you, and I swear I've never seen you looking so…" So fucking good in that suit, you think. The jacket broad at his shoulders and tapering in to his narrow waist, the tailored pants hugging around his huge thighs… You have to restrain yourself from wanting to rip him right out of it in that instant. Instead, you hum as you pop the flowers in an empty vase near the door and take his offered hand. "Shall we?"

He takes you for an Italian meal, it's delicious and in such an intimate setting. Frank is a perfect gentleman throughout, but as the evening goes on you start to let your touches linger on his arm, and under the table, on his thick muscular thighs.

When he doesn't reciprocate you know it's because he's terrified of Matt. You find the whole situation hilarious, the Big Bad Punisher shitting himself because you, the Kingpin's wife wanted to fuck him.

You finally take the initiative and his hand from its resting place on his knee. "You're allowed to touch me, Frank."

He takes a large sip of wine and nods as you lean closer to him, the plump valley of your breasts right in his eyeline.

"So touch me." You purr as you guide his free hand and fingers between your legs to graze the intricate lace of the exquisitely beautiful lingerie set that Matt had bought you especially for tonight.

"Shit." Frank curses under his breath when you spread your legs wider and pull your panties to the side. He can feel your hot wet cunt right on his fingertips, it'd be so fucking easy just to…

"Bella, your dessert. Please enjoy!"

Frank barely stops himself from jolting and flipping the fucking table over as the waiter places your tiramisu down in front of you. You thank him, smiling so sweetly and telling him just how delicious it looks before taking a spoonful and moaning at the taste licking the cream from your lips as you shift your hips forward and the pad of Frank's finger glides over your clit.

The waiter looks pleased. "So glad you find it to your satisfaction!"

You take another bite, urging Frank to keep going. "Mmm, it's soooo good Frankie, would you like a taste?"

His cock has been squeezed tight to the inside of his thigh in these damn pants all night with the way you'd been acting, and now you had him fingering you in a restaurant like it was nothing. It takes every bit of his military training to remain still.

"I'll, uh, get somethin' later, when we get home." he grits out. You were something else.

"Just a lil taste? C'mon Frankie, don't be shy. You can use your fingers…"

Frank can help but relent, swiping his index finger through your slick folds and pushing inside your tight entrance. His cock twitches as you let out a tiny whimper of pleasure as he strokes back and forth before bringing his hand back above the table cloth, gathering a dollop of cream from your plate before he sucks and licks it off along with your juices from his fingers.

"Check please!" He almost yells and you just laugh.

The car journey back to your penthouse was an event itself. You instruct the driver to put up the privacy screen, so you could finally get your manicured hands on Frank's rather sizable package, squeezing and rubbing him through his suit pants so much that he was almost tearing right through them.

"Jesus Christ, Red wasn't screwing around when he told me about you."

"Hmm, or me about you Frankie. I don't know if I can take all of that…" you whine as you cup his bulge, nipping at his scruffy jaw with your teeth.

"Fuck sweetheart, you're gonna be the end of me." He runs his big paw-like hand over your breast, gently squeezing the flesh and running his thumb over the nipple through the fabric of your dress making your breath hitch. "So what's the deal anyways, the hot shot lawyer not doin' it for you anymore?"

"Oh he does it for me enough Frank. A girl just gets a lil greedy sometimes…" you grin and pull him out of the plush town car and into your even plusher building, your mouth on his all the way up in the elevator to where Matt is waiting for you both.

He's reclined on the huge leather couch, tie hanging loose around his neck with a whiskey tumbler in hand as you drag your new toy through the door.

"Hey kids! I know you had fun tonight, I can smell it." He drawls, taking a sip of whiskey before he gets to his feet. "Did you take care of my darling girl, Castle?"

Frank flushes red. "Think she's the one takin' care o' me Murdock."

You pull Frank with you as you wind yourself around Matt, tasting the booze on his lips as you kiss him. "Get my zipper for me, Mister Castle?" You plead, and Matt nods at him before Frank moves to slide the zip of your dress slowly all the way down from your nape to the small of your back. His fingers brush over the thin waistband of your underwear and you hum, shimmying free of your dress and unhooking your bra. The fabric pools down at your feet leaving you naked except for your panties. You turn around and Frank is left drinking you up with his eyes.

"Time for bed I think, don't you?" Matt says, and Frank nods as he watches your hips swing as you walk towards the huge bed on the other side of the room. You slide your knickers down your legs, bending over and giving Frank an eyeful of your bare ass and everything else before kicking off your heels and making yourself comfortable on the bed. Matt's already shirtless and following, snapping his belt free of the loops, his red tie dangling from the fingers of his other hand. "Did you have some dessert?"

Frank's tongue peaks out from between his lips as he catches the faint remainder of your taste. "A little, yeah."

Matt grins twirling the tie. "Such a sweet perfect pussy, could eat her all night long." he muses. "But, sometimes she gets wild, much safer to restrain her."

"Hey!" You huff in mock protest.

Frank slowly unbuttons his jacket, aware that you're watching his every move. "S'that so?" He replies, carefully rolling up his shirt sleeves and prowling towards you. You give him a satisfied smile as you know he's gaining more confidence with you. Matt scootches you up the bed, wrapping the silk tie skillfully around your wrists and knotting it through the bedrail. You squirm and nod, more than ready for what's to come.

"I know how much of a fucking tease she can be. So go ahead, get her back." Matt instructs, and now that Frank's in this situation with the memory of what happened in the restaurant he doesn't think twice, crawling onto the bed, curling his huge hands around your thighs to spread your legs apart.

Rough fingertips trace your soft skin and it makes you shiver, feeling the touch of someone who's not Matt is a definite thrill. You bite down on your lip, chest heaving as your body yearns for him to touch and taste, to play with and penetrate you. All while your Kingpin is happy to sit on the sidelines and conduct the proceedings.

You both moan long and loud as Frank finally dives forward, pulling your hips towards his mouth, his tongue licking you from hole to clit in one strong committed swipe. He holds you firmly and you purr, writhing and bucking your hips as he alternates such soft swirling teasing with fucking his tongue deep in and out of your aching cunt, over and over again. You're so responsive and he feels you strain and pull at your husband's tie holding you captive as he laps at your clit until you can't do anything but beg for his cock.

"Is he that good, baby?" Matt softly questions, "Not better than me surely?"

You can only mewl in answer as Frank rises to that challenge, ending you in a moaning, panting mess as he makes you come on his lips. When he surfaces his mouth and chin is shining, covered with your arousal. Matt sidles up to him, his hand sliding around the back of Frank's thick neck pulling him close as he unashamedly licks the taste of you from his swollen lips. Frank can't think or respond as Matt's dexterous fingers start to unbutton his shirt, so drunk on you. You watch hungrily as he easily flips him onto his back and removes his shoes and pants while he's so distracted. His pupils are blown full and black as Matt's slender fingers trail teasingly down the deep cut lines of his muscles and Frank grunts, jolting as Matt's hand continues down to palm his thick cock through his shorts.

"What the fuck Murdock?"

Matt flashes his teeth in a devilish grin as he gives him a squeeze. "Just curious. Come on big boy, don't keep her waiting."

You're laughing breathlessly at their interactions but the anticipation of what will happen next has you feeling a little nervous too as Frank grunts and turns back around, all of his focus on you.

"Let her loose." He growls, gaze burning right through you.

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." You tut at Matt, stealing several hot, wet kisses from him as he untethers you. Then you're free, launching yourself at Frank, taking him by surprise and pinning his massive bulk to the bed. His hands run lightly up your sides, as your own scratch with your nails over his broad pectorals, your mouth quickly following their path, tasting his scarred skin. He hisses as you work your way down his hard body reaching the waistband of his underwear, yanking them down and releasing his heavy cock, the hunger in your eyes unmistakable as they land on it.

You tease with light kisses up his thick length to the tip where you flick out your tongue to taste, and the salty musk of him has your clenching around nothing as he leaks onto your tongue with a rough gasp.

"Yeah, she'll do that to ya." Matt muses as he observes.

You've been slick and ready since the restaurant, to hell with waiting any longer you think, crawling up his muscular form, straddling his hips and grinding your wet pussy along his length so he knows how much you want him and besides, Matty said you could have him after all. When you move back you tilt your pelvis, catching his tip at your entrance and lowering yourself down to force the fat head of his cock inside.

Frank groans and you cry out as you try to keep sinking down on him.

"Fuck baby, take it easy, okay?"

You're so fucking tight and hot and he's barely inside you.

Matt chuckles from his comfortable seat near the bed. "That what you wanted, Princess? Another cock to stuff you full?"

Frank's thumbs circle on your skin as he holds onto your hips, guiding you as you take another inch, you're whimpering as he's splitting you open. You're a fucking dream and his cock throbs as you keep going, you're squeezing him so tightly he has to think about something else, anything else or he's never gonna last.

"Doesn't she feel just sublime, Castle?"

You grab onto his wrist, moving his hand to the juncture of your thighs and encouraging him to pay attention to the already swollen bundle of nerves there, praying that the feeling will relax your body so you can take him all.

"Damn, so fuckin' tight…"

He keeps moving slowly, carefully, smoothing his free hand up your body, caressing you as he's finally buried in you to the hilt.

"Yeah, attagirl, there you go…" Frank soothes, watching your mouth drop open as he pumps his hips up a couple of times. He can't believe his luck.

Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you feel so full already, and when you feel the mattress dip as Matt positions himself behind you and between Frank's legs, you just about lose your mind.

"Are you ready for me now, sweetheart?"

You sob with desperation at Matt's question, whimpering yet again as he teases around the only other place he can go, very gently circling and pushing his already lubricated finger past the tight ring of your ass.

"C'mon, you wanted this. Didn't you baby?" He purrs at you with an edge of sarcasm, and as soon as he feels you relax he adds another digit, loosening you up so you can take the girth of his dick. One hand slides around your neck and the other braces around your waist as he lines himself up and slowly sinks inside you. It burns but he's right, it's everything you want.

"Mm- y-yes Matt!" You cry out at the overwhelming combination of them both, dancing on the threshold of pain and pleasure.

"Yeah, there's my greedy girl. Look at her Frank, cockdrunk already."

You're at the mercy of two men who want nothing more than to satisfy you, stuffed beyond comprehension.

"Move." Matt growls at Frank over your shoulder, clipped moans tumbling from your lips as they both start to fuck you in perfect syncrony. Frank's hands get a firm hold of your hips, your breasts bouncing as he pistons hard up into you. You whine, you plead, you beg, and you don't even know why because they're already giving you everything.

It doesn't take long until Frank can feel your pussy begin to flutter, you're about to come undone, and his balls draw up tight, dripping with your slick as he stuffs himself inside your perfect cunt over and over.

"Goddamn… I'm close sweetheart, real fucking close. W-where d'you want me to-"

"Fill her right up Frank," Matt growls low, "fuck it right into her like the spoiled little cumslut wants." He reaches around and squeezes your nipples hard between his fingers.

You cry pathetically at Matt's filthy words, but he knows that it makes you weak, gets you off.

"Oh sorry, was that too much kitten?" He smirks as he keeps pounding against your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh reminding you that you're his. He's not going to last long either with the way you're taking them.

"Mm! Ohh!"

"Good girl, fuck, yeah, just like that, just-like-that…" Frank suddenly roars as he spills first, thrusting deep in you with a grunt as you squeeze and clench around them, Matt following and groaning loud soon after as you're coming so hard you can't see and your head's completely empty of any thought other than how much you want them both.

As you come back down to earth Matt's breathy voice reaches your ears. "Honey, sweetie, darling, you okay?" you feel the light soothing touch of his hands running over your skin and slowly open your eyes.

"Mmm." You hum, looking up at both men as they're gently cleaning you up.

Matt smiles at you, kisses your forehead and turns to Frank. "You did real good, Castle. Don't think I've ever seen her this wrecked before. I'm thinking maybe you should stick around, help keep my angel satisfied when things get hectic around here."

At your insistence Frank leans down and you kiss him slow, lingering as you drag his bottom lip between your teeth.

"Think you'd want that job Frankie?" You ask him hopefully. "Because it sounds like a vacancy has just opened up."

After what just happened Frank finds it extremely difficult to say no.

#matt murdock x frank castle x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #matt murdock smut #frank castle x female reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 9

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Scuse me, buttercup,” Dotty climbs up on one of the high stools along the craps table, “oh, look at this tall drink of water.”

You come up beside her, crossing your arms over the leather trim as she leers at the man next to her. You haven’t missed the comments or how she runs stream of mind, much like her son. It explains a little but not enough. You still don’t understand Lloyd, or was it Marion?

“You here alone, lovely?” She continues on, “if so, I think it’s my lucky day. I should run the table, huh?”

“He’s not,” a woman with cherry curls leans around the man caught in the crossfire, “he’s very much not alone.”

“No harm in askin’,” Dotty chirps as she places her chips on the table, “lotta cuties wanderin’ ‘round, don’t you worry, honey. You have fun with yours.”

The woman grabs the man and tugs on his arm. He sighs and collects his single stack before letting her drag him away. You watch Dotty as she chuckles.

“Oh, them young ones get so testy,” she chimes, “I like to rile ‘em up a little.”

“Uh huh,” you hum and toss in a chip as the dealer prompts for a bet.

“Not you though, I can sense it. ‘Sides, Pookie don’t like the insecure ones, ya know? He needs a girl gonna pull him around by his mustache.”

“He’s… unique,” you agree.

“Oh, he’s always been a special one. Me and Harley knew it from the start. ‘Fraid we didn’t do too good about the only child complex. He does love attention.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you scoff as your money is swiped away with a loss. Dotty on the other hand and handed a generous pot.

“Ah, you know the men folk, they gotta put on the brave face but they’re all melt like sugar in water once they got a woman’s hand around there… well,” she cackles shrilly and pushes her winning backs into the centre to wager. She either doesn’t care or doesn’t realise the risk. “Let me tell you, Harley lumbers ‘round like that Frankenstein fella, barely a word to be heard, but I get him on his back and he’s whimpering like a giddy puppy.”

“Dot,” you gasp.

She laughs and waves away your surprise, “like father, like son, I’m sure. You don’t gotta play coy with me. And knowin’ Lloyd, you don’t need any tips, neither. Oh, but we did try something new. Hon, you ever play around with hot wax–”

“Right, uh, no, not, um, yet?” You clear your throat awkwardly, the conversation veering well out of your control. She really is a lot like Lloyd.

“Too bad, but I think you’ll like your wedding present. We had it sent to your room for tonight,” she explains as another gambler takes the seat at her other side. She turns to greet the stranger with her fuschia painted smile, “oh, hello! You ready to lose?”

The man grunts and offers little rebuttal as he puts in for the pot. You pass as Dotty puts her elbow up on the table, “oh, wow, is that a tattoo? Oh, lord, can I see?”

You watch her long acrylics graze the man’s arm brazenly. She is the biggest flirt in the world. You’re happy enough to fade into her shadow. 

“Uhhhh,” the man drones in confusion.

“I been thinking of getting one, ‘bout time I’d say,” she pushes her chest out and puts her hands to her tits, “was thinkin’ a little bumble bee on the one and a honey pot on the other.”

The stranger chuckles, “cute, er, it’s just a lion,” he unbutton his shirt to reveal the rest of the snarling beast, only its mane visible previously along the edge of his collar. Dotty touches his firm peck and traces the line with her fingertip.

“Oh, you're so strong,” she preens, “did it hurt?”

“Little,” the man doesn’t pull away, apparently too dumbfounded to stop the groping.

“Dot,” you hiss and nudge her, “maybe we should move on–”

“And how’s a man like you all alone?” She ignores you.

“Well, I… I’m waiting for my buddies,” he shrugs as she caresses his chest and reluctantly pulls away.

“Early bird,” she praises, “what are you and your buddies doin’ in a place like this?”

“Bachelor party,” he answers, “gonna play some tables, see where the night leads.”

“Sounds delightful,” she claps and kicks her feet cheerily, “oh my, where are my manners, I’m Dotty, in my day they called me Naughty Dotty, and this is my daughter.” You give a small wave as she introduces you with a wave of her hand, “she just got married herself but you see, she didn’t get no bachelorette, so we’re here doin’ our best.”

“Oh, um,” the man leans over, “congrats, I, um, I’m Colin.”

You withhold a cringe. Of course that’s his name. Of course. You smile as Dotty squeezes his arm, “do you mind if maybe we tag along til your friends come around…” she gives a dramatic look around, “got all these creeps hangin’ around and I’m a small town girl, I wouldn’t mind a strong man to scare ‘em off.”

“Ah, sounds alright,” he says with a lilt of confusion.

“I’ll give you half my winnings even,” she offers, “big boy like you, you could take the whole pot.”

You try to hide your amusement as the man blushes. You lean over and lower your voice, “Dotty, maybe you should tone it down?”

“Nonsense, I love my husband,” she whispers back, “ain’t nothing wrong with a little flirting,” she shifts and covers her mouth, “he likes to fuck me when I tell him all about the young ones.”

Your eyes round and try not choke on your tongue. Well, this is gonna be an interesting night. Far from what you expected.

💎

“Dot, Dot, Dot!” The chant fills your ears as the half-dozen men slam their fists on the table.

Your mother-in-law tips the tall glass back as she drains it with ease, a trickle slipping down to her chin as she gulps down the lager. Your purgatory feels rather dull as you sip at a glass of tame lemonade and watch with startled fascination. She finishes and raises it in victory before plunking it down.

“You’re turn, baby boy,” she points at the thick blond with his burly shoulders, “take that shirt off.”

You shake your head. Your pleas for her to settle have gone unheard and at this point, you can only enjoy the show. It’s actually pretty amused by the whole show. You wonder if Lloyd knows about his mother’s antics. Either way, you can’t say it’s a boring night.

The man, Justin, shifts as another moves along the bench and he lays across the leather. He lifts his shirt and Colin puts a shot in his belly button before stepping back. Dotty bends to squeeze a trickle of lime along his stomach and licks the trail down to the glass before taking it in her mouth and standing to throw it back.

The men cheer again as she wobbles slightly in her heels. Your own feet are screaming from the strappy monstrosities you’d walked the expanse of the casino in. Dotty climbs up to straddle Justin and throws her arm up like a cowboy as she pretends to ride him like a horse.

“Okay, wow,” you shove your lemonade aside, “Dotty, I think it’s a bit late,” you stand as you raise your voice.

“Nooooo,” the symphony of male voices rumbles around you.

“Yes,” you insist as you grab her elbow and turn to speak to her directly, “what about Lloyd? Harlan?”

“They can wait, the night is young–”

“It’s after midnight,” you say.

“Oh, ain’t nothin’ wrong with some fun,” she warbles as she shakes you off, “eh.”

She reaches drunkenly to your strap and pulls it down your shoulder. You curse as your tit pops out and you quickly cover it back up as the men cheer again.

“Don’t she got a set, boys,” she trills and pushes herself off Justin. She faces you and gropes your chest, “come on and get a feel–”

“Woah, woah, stop,” you catch her wrists and shove her away.

“Yeah, stop,” a deep timbre undercuts the din, “ma.”

Dotty’s head wobbles as you both turn to face Lloyd. He doesn’t look impressed as his mother catches your arm and leans on you heavily. She giggles as you give him a look between desperation and shame.

“Pa’s waiting,” Lloyd marches forward and clutches her other elbow.

“Eh, who are you?” Colin comes up behind Dotty.

“This is my son,” Dotty strokes Lloyd’s sleeve lovingly, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Alright, let’s go,” Lloyd snarls as he pulls her forward, her heels clacking under her as you take her other arm, “sweet cheeks,” he speaks over her head, “hope you didn’t get your fill.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #unexpected #series #dark drabble #dark!drabble #the gray man

[likedovesinthewindd]

☆ request from @jowikari : How about Prowler!reader revealing herself to Spiderpunk, but behind masks those two are friends who are too afraid to start dating because of secrets?

i love love love this idea (f!reader)

It was like some overused movie plot; two best friends ignoring their feelings for each other because they were too scared of complicating things. You knew you liked Hobie, you've known for a while actually. And you had a feeling he felt the same, but just like you, he had chosen to simply not adress the elephant in the door in the hopes that it'd eventually dissappeared. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't imagined actually being with Hobie, but you didn't want to risk messing things up. And all thanks to your dodgy extracurriculars.

The things was, having a secret identity of sorts was not as hard as it seemed. The hard part came with having to hide that part of yourself from the people closest to you, one of those people being Hobie. And he wasn't stupid; he knew you were hiding something from him, he just wasn't sure what. He didn't pry too much though—maybe because he himself had a few secrets of his own he wasn't very fond of you finding out.

And perhaps it had been foolish of the two of you to think you could keep this from each other forever, that you could keep dancing around the uncomfortable topic and ignore it in hopes that it'd disappear. It really was only a matter of time before the whole thing blew up in your face.

But you'd have to worry about your awkward situation with Hobie later. Besides, you had bigger things to worry about, like this pain in the ass you just couldn't catch. 'Spiderpunk' was what he was called, and you had feeling he didn't like that name, the comically big eyes on his mask narrowing every time you'd tease him with the name.

You've been trying to catch him for a while now, hired by Osborne himself to do his dirty work for him. You didn't like him, at all really, but he was willing to pay you and you needed the money. But every time he'd somehow manage to get away just when you thought you finally had him. Like right now, in the dead of the night where you had him cornered against an alley wall.

You were just beginning to get excited, making your way closer to him when he landed a kick so strong it sent you crashing against the adjacent wall. The hit had you a bit disoriented, but you quickly found your bearings sgain, too scared of losing him again. Your suit however, took a bigger hit than you, and was beginning to glitch. You hadn't even noticed your mask had completely disabled until you felt the cold city air against your face.

You panicked a bit, looking around to see if you could still see him. There he stood, still in the same spot and seemingly frozen in place. Your name left his mouth in a questioning whisper, you almost missed it completely. He knew your name? Why would he know your name? The question didn't have any time to leave your mouth until he was hurriedly pulling at his mask.

At that moment, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole; surely that would've been better than having to do this right now. You reckon anything would've been better than having to face your best friend after you've been actively trying to capture him, hurting him in the process too. "Bee?" you asked, voice suddenly very small. "What're you doing?"

"You askin me?" he asked with a scoff. He sounded mad, and hurt. "I didn't know you were Spider-Man," you said, voice suddenly regaining a bit more volume. "Would it have made a difference?" he asked, "would it have changed what you were doing?" No, you thought, but the word didn't leave your mouth. "I'm sorry," what was you said instead.

"Why you even doin' this?" he asked ignoring your weak apology, voice stilled laced with anger. "I'm sorry, it's just Osborne offered me a lot of money to do this and you know—"

"Osborne?" he asked, brows furrowing. It was like a switch flipped in his head. You saw it in his eyes too, you saw the exact moment his whole perception of you changed. He no longer looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, but with an anger that made your stomach churn uncomfortably. That look was quickly replaced with a look of fear. He was scared of you.

He thought you were going to kill him.

You didn't have a chance to utter another word before he was shooting a web and disappearing into the darkness of the night again, trying to get as far away from you as possible. You didn't try to stop him.

✮˚｡⋆˚. ୭ ˚

that's all i got lol

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown angst #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #likedovesinthewindd

[blainesebastian]

mistakes were made

words: 2,290 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “fic about the reader getting really bad food poisoning and Austin taking care of her” warnings: none notes: i really enjoyed writing this request, thank you! hope you enjoy it :) masterlist is here tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

You kinda have a love-hate relationship with the chicken place down the street. Sometimes the spice level is completely different any time you order it, which makes no sense that you can’t depend on it being the same every time, the fries are sometimes Cajun flavored…sometimes not? (no matter how you order them), and delivery and pick-up can range from ten minutes to two hours with no rhyme or reason.

And yet, you give this place your money pretty much every week.

“There’s something charming about it.” You tell Austin, your best friend, over the phone as you walk out of your apartment (the goal is to get coffee, do a nice mental health walk and grab said chicken for dinner).

You can hear Austin crinkling his nose as he replies, “There is nothin’ charming about chicken that sticks to the wrapper when you order it.”

You can’t help but snicker, walking down the steps and outside on another beautiful day in New York. No rain this time in the weather forecast…you made sure to check. The last little walk you went on, you hadn’t checked the projections and got stuck in a downpour. Austin found it hilarious—you? Not so much.

“Uhm, that’s definitely part of the charm, excuse you,” Rolling your eyes, you cross the street, making your way to the coffee shop that you favor. “Maybe you need a reminder. I can order you somethin’.”

“No,” Austin laughs, “Despite the fact that I’m in New York for the next few weeks,” A pleasant and warm thrum kisses your body at that, it’s been way too long since you’ve seen him, “I will not be eating at that place. C’mon, ditch the chicken, let me take you to a proper dinner.”

You smirk, “’A proper dinner?’ What’re you from an Oscar Wilde novel?” You laugh, “Or is this you askin’ me out on a date?”

Austin’s quiet for a few moments, the sound of traffic behind him, a soft hum leaving his lips, “It very well could be, you know, a date.”

Your heart hammers in your chest because…you both have been at this very same precipice so many times. You’re just not sure how it’d work out. You’re…you’re so normal compared to him, legit have a job teaching second grade English and art. This man is an upcoming actor, getting bigger and more prestigious with each role he accepts. How would that work?

“I’ll say yes if it’s the chicken place.”

Austin laughs, something warm that dips into your stomach, “You’re insufferable.” He mumbles.

You can’t help but grin, “I know, part of my charm. You love it.”

“I do,” Austin confirms and lets that sit for a few moments, “I gotta go, but see you tonight? Even if you refuse to part ways from that chicken place.”

“Yes,” You promise and then throw in to drive him crazy— “It’s a date.”

--

You’re not quite a nap person��you know you get weird looks for saying that but it’s just something you haven’t managed to perfect like some people. So you know the moment you pass out on the couch after eating your favorite order from the chicken place is a bad idea. You feel sick the moment you wake up, groggy, a bit disoriented—like you’re not sure if you slept ten minutes or ten hours.

You blink at your phone as you pick it up, missed texts from Austin—

Austin: be over in an hour

The was fifty minutes ago.

Austin: you in a chicken coma?

You let out a soft huff and text back,

Y/N: 🐔🐔🐔

You stand from your couch, swaying a moment, dizzy and kind of get your bearings for a moment before shaking your head. How is it that naps always mess you up like this? Wandering to set your phone down on the kitchen counter, you move to fill a glass of water and take a few sips, your apartment intercom system beeping. A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth and you move to press the button,

“Yeah?”

“Yeah?” Austin asks, “That’s all I get? What about a ‘hello’?”

“I reserve that for the food delivery people.”

Austin chuckles lightly but you hit the button to buzz him in, not wanting to reserve him to all the banter outside…it’s been a while since you’ve seen one another and you have missed him. Letting out a slow breath, you open the door and hover for a few moments, your stomach churning and you kinda shake your head at yourself because apparently now you sometimes have to take an anti-acid with your favorite chicken place. Maybe you’re just getting old.

Glancing up as you hear the elevator ding, you can’t help but smile as you see Austin getting off, making his way down the hall to you. Just as attractive as you’ve always remembered and yet somehow more devastatingly handsome than you’re able to recall. You smile at his pair of black jeans, white t-shirt, blue jean jacket; simple, comfortable, looks too good on his tall frame.

He reaches for you, his hand plucking the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing and using it as leverage to tug you forward into his embrace. You can’t help but grin, pushing yourself up on your toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You squeeze him tightly, closing your eyes to his familiar scent that feels far too much like home. You feel him press his face into your shoulder and hair, planting a kiss there before letting you go.

“We gonna spend tonight out or in?” He asks, giving you a teasing look at your oversized t-shirt. “Pretty sure you could pull that look off with some boots.”

There’s a myriad of replies that you’ve got right at the tip of your tongue but something shifts in how you’re feeling, far too soon, stomach lurching along with a sickly-sour sensation in the back of your mouth. Oh no, oh no. Your eyes widen and you don’t even have a chance to explain to Austin what is happening, just kind of putting your hand up and rushing to the bathroom and kneeling down in front of the toilet before losing the contents of your stomach.

It's quick and kind of violent and god, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to remove that taste from your mouth even if you brush your teeth a handful of times. Groaning, you flush the toilet, sitting to the side for a few moments because—what even was that? Your mind whirs through possibilities but…deep down you know there’s pretty much only one thing you can land on, and it’s not pregnancy, so.

You glance up to see Austin moving to stand in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. While part of you wants to tell him to just…leave you alone to suffer, he’s also seen you a lot worse than this.

“Don’t even say it.” You mumble, running a hand over your face. It’s really not a good sign that you’re sweating, slightly dizzy and your stomach hurts. You feel worse.

“I wasn’t gonna say anythin’.” Austin comments, crossing his arms over his chest, “Other than you look terrible.”

A soft laugh rumbles in your chest and that is…decidedly the wrong move because your stomach protests with another lurch. You quickly turn towards the toilet, coughing afterwards, a soft whimper leaving your lips as you feel Austin hover behind you and help hold your hair back. His hand gently works up and down your back until you’re done, slouching back against his body. He reaches up and flushes again, reaching for a washcloth on your tub.

“Just leave me here to die,” You mumble, tears stinging your eyes because you’re…embarrassed? Which seems so silly, it’s just Austin. But also just…you feel terrible. Not just physically, but the fact that Austin doesn’t visit often and now he’s stuck here taking care of you.

He smirks lightly, even though you’re not looking at his face, you can hear it as he talks, “Still think that chicken place is charming, hmm?”

Austin turns on the tub and wets the washcloth in his hand, dragging it over your forehead and along the back of your neck. You groan lightly, your hand rubbing over your stomach, “Please don’t talk about food.”

“Fair enough,” He brushes some hair over your shoulder, “Think you’re done?”

“God I hope so.” You whine and a soft rumble of amusement happens in Austin’s chest. He carefully hooks his arms underneath your armpits and swiftly lifts you from the floor. Your knees are wobbly and you take a step back, leaning against his chest a moment.

He keeps you steady, one hand on your waist and then helps guide you out of the bathroom to your bed. You sit slowly on it, attempting to assess yourself. You’re still…very nauseous but you don’t think you’ll be vomiting more any time soon. You really hope not. Closing your eyes a moment, you run a hand through your hair, sitting still so that the room doesn’t spin.

“You know,” Austin sits down next to you, toeing his shoes off, “Think this wouldn’t have happened if you would’ve just let me take you out on a date.”

A startled laugh leaves your lips as you turn your head to look at him, “Oh my god,” You playfully tap his face, “Shut up.”

He smiles, taking your hand off his face but holding onto it, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Think you need a firm break-up with the chicken place.”

You crinkle your nose—you need to brush your teeth but walking back towards the bathroom sounds like a fate worse than death, “Never knew you’d be so jealous over a chicken restaurant, this is cute and unexpected.”

Austin huffs out a sound but it’s amusing to you that he doesn’t quite deny it either. You take a few moments to look at your hands joined, his thumb traveling along your knuckles and the bones of your fingers. There’s a slight fluttering sensation in your chest that almost offsets the nausea. Almost.

“I’m sorry I ruined the night,” You mention when you turn a bit to look at him. He doesn’t get much time to himself unless he’s between projects and you’re sure this is the last thing he wants to be doing when he could be having a night out in New York.

Austin shakes his head, brushing your hair aside so its not in your face, “You didn’t ruin anythin’.”

“I feel terrible,” You reply with a soft laugh and then close your eyes, groaning, “Literally, I feel terrible.”

Austin laughs gently and wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his chest. Leaning against him, you huff dramatically, allowing your eyes to close for a few moments as you relish in the feeling of his touch, hands through your hair, along your back. Eventually, he stands from the bed and motions to the headboard,

“We’ll watch one of those awful sci-fi films you like. I’ll make you some tea, get you some water too—need to keep hydrated.”

You stand slowly from the bed on wobbly knees, intent on brushing your teeth first. “Alien is not horrible.”

Austin crinkles his nose, “Sure.”

You don’t argue with him—mostly because you don’t have the energy to, and he’s being nice in offering to make you tea, so, you’ll let him slide this one time. Brushing your teeth as quickly as you can, you wander back to bed and grab the remote, stacking some pillows against the headboard for you and Austin to lean against. Running a hand over your face, you slowly sit down and tug the blankets over your legs. Bluh—still far too nauseas. You pick up the remote for your TV and start the movie Alien, a small twinge of a smile on your lips as you think about Austin’s ‘review’. Clearly he does not appreciate a good classic.

You close your eyes and tip your head back, letting out a soft sigh as you attempt to self-evaluate. Last thing you want to do is drink something when you’re not ready but…Austin’s right, you need to keep yourself hydrated. You hear him walk back in, setting glasses on the nightstand,

“Water first.”

Humming lightly, you run a hand over your stomach before picking up the glass of water. You take a few slow, careful sips, waiting for your body to absolutely pitch a fit. When it doesn’t, you lean more comfortably against some pillows, Austin joining by crawling into bed beside you.

“Think I’m gonna make it.” You tell him, your body coming to lean along his.

Austin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders so that you’re more against his chest. “Glad to hear it,” He reaches for the tea on the nightstand, handing it over to you as you put the glass of water down, “Doesn’t this movie have the alien bursting out of some dude’s chest? You’d think you’d want to avoid visuals like that.”

Snickering, you take a slow sip of tea, pausing, before leaning back against Austin again. Your head rests on his shoulder, “I’m immune to aliens.”

“Just not to chicken.”

You grimace, turning a bit so that your nose brushes against the soft skin of his neck. “Too soon.”

Austin smiles, tilting his head down a little so he can plant a kiss on your forehead. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to consider that date, hmm?”

You take another sip of tea, allowing your eyes to close for a few moments, your stomach fluttering now in a good way. “Alright—just…anything but chicken.”

Austin smirks, squeezing you closer. “Noted.”

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

[dangerouslyknown]

Scenario: How the Admirals realized they are in love with you + Confession

Borsalino / Kizaru

You weren´t quite friends with him, but:

You´ve had this habit of eating lunch together every day. You sit, eat, chat and it has become the highlight of the day for both of you. This has been going on for some years. By the same table there usually sits other Marines too, like Sakazuki, Garp, Kuzan and Sengoku but you always sat face to face with Borsalino.

One day however, he couldn´t make it to be there for the lunch break because he had an important mission elsewhere.

It doesn´t seem like a big deal to miss it once, but this actually made him realize how much he enjoyed spending time with you.

He hasn´t thought about it that much, but he has been having a crush on you for a while now...

As his mind went trough all these thoughts, the realization hit him even harder. He was falling for you. It wasn´t a small crush anymore...

Now that he has realized he loves you he really wants to let you know that. He will try his best to be back from the mission as soon as possible, preferably on the same day.

You will hear a knock on your door and he is standing there, apologizing and inviting you to eat dinner with him because he skipped lunch. He looked almost serious!

He had a paper bag and there was two instant noodle cups, one for each of you. He had them already ready so you can quickly grab them and eat.

As you two sat down to eat, he didn´t chat like he usually would. He just stared at you while you slurped your noodles.

Suddenly he smiles widely, squinting his eyes and his dragged, pleasant tone pronounces:

"Today I realized that I am in love with you"

Sakazuki / Akainu

You have been friends with him for a long time and you care for each other deeply, even if he isn´t the most affectionate type. (Well let´s be honest, he hardly shows any affection, but he has his ways)

You could even say that you two were `best friends` and you regularly visited the Marine HQ´s to see him (Or if you are a Marine yourself, you took some time off to visit him throughout the day)

At first he was super annoyed that you bothered him when he was working, but overtime he learned to appreciate your company. Sometimes you didn´t even say anything, you just chilled there with him.

One day when was working overtime... He was extremely stressed with work, because it has been a rough week. You were with him earlier that day, but of course you couldn´t hangout with him all day. You had responsibilities too.

You knew that he was working overtime today, so you decided to make a surprise visit to him.

You slid the door open and he looked at you with a very surprised look on his face. He wasn´t expecting anyone to come to his room without knocking and when it was this late.

You entered and placed something on his desk. You brought him a lunchbox with sandwhiches and a brand new cigar packet. His eyes widened and he looked at you.

That was when he realized how precious you are to him. His face might not look like it but his heart is literally squeezing in happiness. He is falling for you...

He doesn´t reveal his feelings right away. He just thanks you and gives you a slight smile (And seeing him smile is VERY RARE!)

He takes his time to process his feelings and much later, probably talking about months later, he decided to reveal his feelings for you. He had bought some flowers and he wrote a card.

One day he was waiting for you to visit him like you usually do, but for your surprise, when you entered, he stood up and handed you the flowers. You looked at the flowers, and noticed the card. The text on the card reads:

"I might be in love with you..." (with hearts drawn around the text)

Kuzan / Aokiji

You and him probably are not the closest with each other. It´s not that he doesn´t like you, you two just never got the chance to befriend each other better, if ya get what I mean.

He is probably physically attracted to you from the moment he first saw you and he has been asking you on a date multiple times, but that´s pretty much it.

You didn´t go on a date with him so he basically gave up the idea.

However, as time passed, something brought you closer to each other. You started to see each other more and spend more time together... It all just kind of happened.

You got to know him better and he got to know you better. You had endless conservations with each other while he was skiving off his work.

A certain incident happened however. Sakazuki became the Fleet Admiral and Kuzan left the navy. You didn´t see each other that much anymore...

When you were seperated, it made him feel insurmountable sadness because he missed you. Then he realized that he had a deeper emotional connection with you. His physichal attraction had evolved to romantic attraction. He loved you. He wanted to see you. He wanted to spend time with you.

He sailed over many seas, having this empty feeling in his heart until he finally couldn´t bare it anymore.

He searched for you. He wanted to see you at least one more time and one night you were sitting by the sea, watching the stars. You notice something in the horizon. It is someone riding a bicycle.. on water? As the figure came closer, you realized who it was.

He reached you and your reunition was beautiful. He hugged you tight and whispered in your ear:

"I never want to be seperated from you again. I love you"

Issho / Fujitora

You were friends. Usually, at least once a week, you sat down with him somewhere to talk.

Your topics were always random, but every time there was one thing he asked. He asked you to describe something beautiful you have seen to him. He enjoyed listening your describions.

You continued to meet with him weekly for months, then years. The meetings became more frequent too. Over time, his feelings for you grew...

He really enjoyed spending time with you and it seemed like you would never run out of topics to discuss or things to describe to him.

One beautiful evening, you were sitting somewhere outside. Once again, he asked you to describe something beautiful you have seen recently. You started to describe him how the sun setting right now was beautiful. You tried your best to describe the colors, but it was difficult.

He smiled as he listened to you and then he hit you with a question which you did not expect. He asked you to describe your face.

As you started to describe yourself, trying to remember how you looked because for some reason your mind went blank and you had a hard time remembering the sight you saw in the mirror.

His smile grew wider every moment and he finally cups your face and says:

"I wish I wouldn´t have blinded myself. I want to see the person I am so deeply in love with..."

#one piece admirals #one piece #one piece admirals x reader #one piece admiral scenarios #one piece x reader #admiral scenarios #dangerouslyknown #marine admirals #borsalino kizaru #kizaru x reader #aokiji x reader #kuzan x reader #sakazuki x reader #akainu x reader #fujitora x reader #issho x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #aokiji kuzan #akainu sakazuki #fujitora issho #borsalino #akainu #fujitora #dangerouslyknownworks #dangerouslyscenarios

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎!𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝟹

Summary: Ivonne Rainer hadn’t met Dean Winchester in 2006 after he was hit by a car. No, this time, this universe, they met in 2010, when the whole Apocalypse deal started and Dean was made leader of one of the only remaining survival camps in America. Little did he know, one random raid would change everything.

STATIC

I was sharpening a machete by a fire outside, sitting on a log alone while everyone else were in their tents, fast asleep, the lucky bastards. It had been about a week since my confrontation with Winchester, and I’d catch him glaring daggers at me every time I passed by or did so much as breathe the same air as him. Like I cared about what that jackass thought; he just had an overinflated sense of self-importance. I gripped the brimstone tight in my hand, sharply sliding it across the sides, then I lifted the blade to my finger and made the lightest incision with it, and with barely any pressure, I got a smooth cut. I nodded, holding it up to the light in satisfaction before chucking it into the pile of other meticulously sharpened machetes. 

I stared into the fire for a moment, watching the flames swat the air like it had something against the thing keeping as alive. My jaw clenched a little, and then I rubbed my face, my eyes closing for a second- 

Gunshots. Screams. His face as he stood above me, gun pointed at my forehead, finger on the trigger. 

I immediately opened my eyes again, jerking and almost falling off my seat as I took my hand off my face. “My god, you should be used to this by now.” Tear pricked at my eyes, but I closed my eyes, shaking them off and the moisture clearing like it was never there as I cleared my throat. Then I heard the slightest of crunching leaves, and I raised my eyebrows, smirking. “If you wanna sneak up on me, you’re gonna have to try a thousand times harder.” I turned to see James there, a small smile playing over his lips. His hair was messed up slightly by the wind as he sat down, drinking from a bottle.

“I brought you a beer.” He held up one more bottle, holding it out to me. “To thank you for… saving my ass. And dragging yours across the coals.” 

“Eh, it’s nothin’.” I smiled, taking it gladly and cracking it open with my thumb before taking a sip, then chuckled. “He’s a jackass.” 

“Language.” He grinned, nudging me slightly. “But I’m curious, cause nobody’s talked to the boss like that before. And I mean nobody. You’ve got guts.” 

“I don’t respond well to authority.” I shrugged, frowning a bit. “Being ordered around ain’t my strong suit. Never was.” I took a long sip, gulping down the liquid and exhaling as it soothed my jumpy nerves a little. “You’ve never spoken to him like that? Ever?”

”Well, being fair, I was a police officer, namely detective sergeant.” James vouched, taking a sip of his beer. “Responding to authority without question? Kinda my job.” 

“Touché.” I paused, then turned to him. “So, where you from, Serge?” 

“M’from Austin, but when I joined the force, I moved to Baltimore, then New York. Baltimore’s where I met the boss, after I arrested him on suspicion for the murder of one Karen Giles.” He grinned, swirling the contents of his beer, the fire illuminating his rugged features a little too well. “And you, Miss Mysterious?”

”I was born in Jersey, spent half of my life there before my family moved to Lebanon, though I had no idea why they’d choose there of all goddamn places.” 

“And the immune business, if you don’t mind me askin’?” 

I cast him an uneasy glance. People would not take kindly to this, but James, with his kind green eyes, seemed to be someone I could confide in. Yeah, he… did. “Well, I don’t know where it came from, exactly. It just appeared when I was nineteen and it’s been with me since. There was a brief period where Hell sent a demon that carved a rune in my arm to prevent me from usin’ it, but I got that off after a bit. And, uh, I don’t know, the one time I came close to understanding all that is when I was 26. There was this… fight to the death between all the psychics. I don’t know why I was there; I wasn’t 22 and I certainly didn’t have abilities quite like theirs, mine was more destructive. More developed, obviously. But I had to choose to protect one kid, and I chose a good one. His name was Sam, but he died that evenin’, I escaped and never heard of him since.” 

“Damn.” Was all he could manage, then a thought seemed to cross his mind. “You know the hippie cabin?” 

“The one I’ve been warned against when it’s 3 o’clock?” 

“The very same. I think I know a guy who could help.” 

…

“Huh.”

The next morning, I had my hands in my leather jacket’s pockets as I strolled up to the hippie cabin, where James was leaning against the wooden wall, his broad arms folded across his chest. He gave me a wink, pushing off the wall as he approached me casually. “Hey there, pretty lady.” 

The statement made me laugh a little, and I looked him in the eye with a raised brow. “Pretty lady? Really?” 

“Can’t fault a man for speaking facts.” 

“Let flirting, more walkin’, sweet talker, I’ve got priorities.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” James then led me inside the cabin, where I could see a dude with tousled black hair and a beard dressed in pyjamas and doing yoga on an over-embellished mat. Is this the guy? 

If so, I don’t see the appeal. 

Then the dude’s eyes opened, and he turned to me with a rather dreamy, stoned-looking expression. “James. I hope you’ve been feeling at peace with yourself.”

”Kind of hard to, Cas, but thank you.” So his name was… Cas.

“This is the guy?” I whispered to James, who nodded. 

“Bear with him, he’s smarter than he lets on.” 

“And you…” Cas pointed at me, standing up and walking over to me, and I looked up at him. Every man in this goddamn place seemed to be taller than me. Damn bein’ 5’ 7”. “I know you.” 

“Do you, now?” I scoffed, folding my arms defensively, but I had the inkling he was right. There was something about this Cas dude that made my hands tingle weirdly, and I did not like it one bit. 

“Uh… Ivy?” James muttered, nudging me. 

“What?” 

“Your eyes are glowing blue.” I glanced in a mirror, and indeed I saw my eyes glowing blue. I hadn’t seen them do that since this whole pandemic started, and especially not when I could completely control my powers. 

“Yes, I know.” Cas pointed at me, a smile breaking out on his face. “Ivonne Hazel Rainer.” 

“He knows your name.” 

“I got that, James.” I hissed back. He knows my middle name. Only me and one other person knows my middle name. “Uh… how do you know me?”

”I can feel your power.” Cas continued airily, and put his finger on my forehead, making me jump back in shock. The hell-

“Hey, hey, easy on the contact!” 

“You’ve grown stronger than I imagined.” 

“Elaborate, please!” 

“If we are going to have this conversation, I’d rather have it privately.” He shot a pointed glance at James, who nodded sheepishly and headed out, and I looked after him. Don’t leave me with this weirdo-

“So.” I gulped, looking him in the eye. “I’ve had these powers since ‘99. That’s a whoppin’ eleven years, if you minus the one where they were taken away. You wanna tell me what the hell they are or will I have to force it out?” The threat made him quirk an eyebrow and laugh softly, which stumped me. People were usually either pissed off or scared outta their wits. This guy was way too stoned to be either. 

“I never knew you’d be this… skilled… but I also never anticipated how feisty you are.” 

“Who even uses feisty anymore?” 

He seemed to ignore me, looking me in the eye. “I’d have thought you’d be able to hear the thoughts of everyone on this camp, but you seemed to have learnt to tune those thoughts out. Bravo. Anyway, that’s not why you’re here. My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord.” 

“Angel of the Lord- is that a boy band?” 

“I wish it was, it would be a rather popular band, if it did exist, but no. I’m an angel.” 

An angel? Angel?

”You’re kiddin’ me.” I chuckled nervously, shaking my head. “You’re pulling my leg. An angel- how thick do you think I am, huh?” I then took a good look at him, and his expression told me he wasn’t lying. “You’re serious.” 

“Yes.” He nodded. “And I’m glad you decided to stay. And it seems like your good powers are amplified in my presence.” 

“They feel like it.” I gulped, my body feeling tingly. An unfamiliar kind of tingly. “And why’s that?” 

“Because those powers of yours were transferred to you by me.” Castiel admitted, taking a good look at me. “From your brother, just before his… you know.” 

“You gave me these?” 

“Yes. Your brother would have been corrupted, just like the other psychics like him. I saw that you would do a better job with your abilities, and use them for the greater good. I just wish I could have found you sooner, or if Dean had met you sooner. You were meant to play a bigger part in this than you realise, Ivonne.” 

“W-What?” I stammered, frowning a bit as I held up my hand. “Slow down. Why am I important?” 

“You are what us angels called the Saviour.” He admitted, holding up one hand with his palm flat and facing the ceiling. “But you are also, to demons, the Destroyer.” He did the same with the other hand. “To both, you are the Balance. A human, a singular human, whose actions have an equilibrium between good and bad consequences. You were meant to choose one, and fight the other side in the Apocalypse. But you didn’t make that choice. I have a feeling that all this could be prevented had you met Dean. He would need a level mind, but I sense that it’s no longer as stable.” He took a closer look, stepping forward. “You’re troubled.” 

“Never mind that.” I snapped defensively, shrinking back a little. “Just tell me, is there any point in making the decision now?” 

“Not anymore.” Cas shook his head solemnly. “Even if you did choose the Saviour, Lucifer is far too powerful to be stopped with your powers alone. And we may need your… evil… powers as well.” Then he stepped forward again. “Be prepared to use your powers. They will come in handy. And while you’re still here, the orgy is at three o’clock, if you wish to join-“ 

“And… we’re done here.” I coughed, now aware of what goes on at three in the afternoon. “Thanks for the help, really appreciate it-“

”Ivy.” Risa popped her head through the door, smiling slightly at Cas. “Dean’s calling you.” 

“Right.” I groaned, stepping out of the tent and following her. “Please remind me to stay calm and not deck him.” 

“Stay calm and don’t deck him.” She laughed. “Look, I know he gets under your skin, but just trust the guy. He’s kept us alive thus far.” 

“Trust is a goddamn privilege, Risa.” I scoffed before reaching Winchester’s cabin. I knocked on the door, and heard a grunt from the other side. 

I’ll take that as an invitation. 

I walked in, hands in my pockets as I expected to see the bossman glaring at me, but no, he was smirking. I frowned a little; why’s he so happy to see me? 

“There she is.” He chuckled lowly, his fingers tapping the table in an insistent rhythm. “Miss I-Don’t-Care.” 

“Missed me, jackass?” I retorted, tilting my head slightly. His smirk was almost too smug, he had a glint in his eye and he was looking at me as if he was ready to see me pissed off. He’s up to something. 

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Winchester then took a good look at me, and I shifted on my spot, slightly uneasy. The hell is he thinking? “I did some digging. Went on the radio, fetched some contacts. Turns out you’re not quite the Miss Golden you play yourself out to be.” 

“The hell are you talkin’ about?” 

He rubbed down his mouth in one stroke as he did, taking a sharp breath in through his nose. “There were seven years.” I froze; I knew what seven years he was talking about. “Seven years, from 1999 until 2006 where there were some pretty whacked up crime scenes left of monsters across the states. They were kept quiet, but other hunters knew what was happenin’. Vampires, werewolves, djinn, all found dead in abandoned lots and/or buildings, and the death was quick. Painless. Done before the hunters even got wind of the case. Now, they all fit one M.O., of one hunter called Michael Rainer, but there was a big problem with that- he was dead. Now, those guys knew that he had a daughter who he trained to be the best of us and my pops knew it too, so they chalked it up to pretty, little, lippy Ivonne Rainer.” 

“That’s crap.” I retorted quietly, but it was far from. It was the truth. My hand balled into a fist, and he seemed to notice that, the satisfaction evident on his face at seeing me grow steadily more pissed.

“It’s reality.” He smirked, getting closer. “Now, why was Michael Rainer’s obedient little jellybean-“ My blood boiled when he used my father’s nickname for me, “throwin’ a seven year long temper tantrum? Huh? Oh, wait, you could put it down to the night her family were murdered in ‘99, ‘cept your younger sister, who died of cancer three months prior and dear ol’ daddy was found with his heart carved out.” 

“Don’t talk about that.” 

“Or what?” He challenged, and I felt like a bomb ready to explode on him. “Your pregnant mom and youngest sister were found with knives in their throats and Carter with two bullet holes in his chest, and you know what? I think after all that, you’re definitely whacked out of your gourd. I was thinkin’ it would take some time for you to go psycho, but you already have-“ I lunged forward, pinning him harshly to the wall using my forearm on his jugular. But then he twisted us around, now caging me against the wall with his hand on my throat, not squeezing but letting me know it was there in case he was driven to. 

“You asshole!” 

“Listen here, sweetheart.” He drawled, getting real close to my face, his jaw set. “You’re only in this camp because, quite literally, Bob’s your uncle, otherwise I’d have your smartass out back on those Croat-ridden streets.” 

“That’s funny, cause I’m only here ‘cause of Bobby.” I spat, gritting my teeth as my hand reached up to grip his wrist as my eyes glowed red. “Where is he?” 

“Oh, I’ve hit a nerve.” 

“WHERE IS HE?!” 

“GONE!” He yelled, and it was like everything shattered inside of me. My last remaining family. Dead. And this… this jackass, he… 

No. 

“You’re lying.” I refused, my eyes glowing a more intense red. “You’re lying, goddamnit! He’s not- he’s not gone!”

”He is, princess.” He growled. “I saw it happen.” 

“Give me…” I seethed, my eyes pricking with tears that I desperately bit back. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t tear you apart.” 

“Go on.” Winchester challenged. “Do it. See how your new buddies would take to you then.” 

I had half a mind to do it. 

To let go, and to start peeling him apart, but a part of me told me no, that this isn’t what Bobby would have wanted. For his niece to go blind with rage and kill a man who he practically raised. I gritted my teeth, then pried his hand off my neck, my eyes returning back to grey. “No.” I whispered, then sized him up, which didn’t work since he had 6 inches on me, but I did it anyway. I didn’t care who he was, who anyone was. I knew that would kill me at some point, but it’s kept me alive thus far. “You’re not worth it.” Then I walked out, looking at a Jeep that just arrived with the latest scavenge team. I wanted to break down, cry, destroy something, tear something apart without even touching it, but I didn’t have it in me. Not when Bobby…

A choked cry tore at my throat just as a small buzz of static whirred at the back of my mind, my eyes involuntarily glowing blue as it got stronger and stronger as the men unloaded from the Jeep. They all exchanged beers as my head pounded, that relentless buzzing taking over my mind and clouding it. I clamped my hands over my ears, but that only made the pounding worse. 

Risa jogged up to me, looking concerned as James tagged behind. James took my face in his hands, saying something that I didn’t hear, but my rusty lip reading skills told me he was saying ‘Look at me’, but I couldn’t, not when something was wrong. Really wrong. 

My eyes focused on one man in the back of the just-arrived group, and the static got to its worst, taking in the details of the man. His blood-splattered face, his red-rimmed eyes, the tired look on his face, and the static banging against my brain and tiring it out. It was like it was amplified tenfold, but something registered in my head. 

Without even thinking too much, I pulled out my gun, aiming at the man and pulling the trigger. The bullet whizzed through the air and got the man right in the temple, sending him collapsing to the floor as easily as I’d crush a piece of paper in my hand. I breathed heavily as I stared at the body, and the gun was instantly wrestled out of my hand. 

My mind was silent. No more static. 

Just… emptiness. 

“Ivy?!” James exclaimed angrily, turning me to face him. “The hell was that?!”

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn #dean winchester x oc #spn masterlist #dean winchester x you #supernatural oc #endverse

[eldritcmor]

Bar scene

Price Glanced around before settling down at the bar. The place was quiet, peaceful almost. He quietly ordered a whiskey and watched the other patrons for a moment. “Haven't seen your face around here. You new in town?” Price looked up from his people watching to see the bar tender leaning on the bar before him. He hummed a moment as he though of his answer. “Not new, Just been busy.” The bartender chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth. So what Finally dragged you in here?” Price sipped his drink. The whiskey burned at his throat. “A Co-worker said I should take a break and sent me here. Said it was a nice to unwind.” The bartender hummed. “Well can’t deny that. Mind me askin’ who pointed you in Our direction? I might know ‘em.” Price hummed as he considered his next words. “Syn.” The bartender nodded. “Syn? Been awhile since I’ve seen ‘er here. How’s she doin’ these days?” Price took another sip of his drink. “She’s doing as well as she can be. I got a question.” The bartender chuckled. “Lot’s of people do. Hopefully it’s something I can answer.” Price hummed a moment, considering how to approach this. “Do you know of any safe houses in the area?” The bartender’s eyes narrowed. “That depends. What team do you play for?” Price blinked. Team? Wait, he knew this. Sometimes those at SH6 didn’t use call-signs, ranks, or names. They used colors. Reds, Blues, And Greens. “I play for the Red team.” The bartender hummed. “Well That explains the accent. Though ain’t you guys operation across the pond?” Price nodded. “It is.” The bartender smiled. “Why ya here then, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”

Price sighed. “Had a squad go missing.” The bartender nodded. “I’m assumin’ the bodies haven't been found then, If they sent someone after them.” Price hummed. “We know they’re alive, just not exactly where they are.” The Bartender made a soft oh noise. “Have you considered the old safe houses?” Price raised an eyebrow, setting his drink down. “The old safe houses?” The bartender nodded. “The old safe houses. Sorry, by your look I assumed you had been part of the dreamer war.” Price blinked. “The Dreamer War?” The bartender blinked. “Ah so your relatively new then. The Dreamer War was a conflict that came to a head a few years ago. There were a couple Safe houses set up as neutral ground to give agents a place to rest between missions and fights. I think ten in total in the United States. They’re still technically in use, if you know where to find them.” The bartender Chuckled. “The one’s who originally built the houses, were uh really good with spacial abilities. And yes, that includes dimensions.” Price nodded. He could wonder about spacial abilities later, right now he had a lead. “Do you know what the nearest safe house is?” The bartender nodded. “Yeah. The nearest one should be number Six. Somewhere in New York, I think. It shouldn’t be anywhere near The Blues teams haunt but it should still be grounded there. You planning on goin there?” Price set his drink down. “Something like that. Wouldn’t hurt to check it out. It got an address?” The bartender shook his head. “Unfortunately no. With what was happening when they were set up, it was best to keep any information about their Locations absolutely secret.” Price raised an eyebrow. “Then how did people get to them?” The bartender shrugged. “You had to have a key.” Price hummed. “A key?” The bartender nodded. “A key.” Price clicked his tongue. “And where do I find these keys?” The bartender chuckled. “You could ask around The local Military base. Most of them there are Kingsmouth survivors so one of them bound to have a key.” Price blinked. Kingsmouth survivors? Did they mean the Other SH6 squads? “I’ll ask around then. How much do I owe you?” The Bartender laughed. “Since Syn sent you it’s on the house. Good luck Finding that missing squad by the way. I hope you find them alive.” Price hummed as he stood from the bar. “I hope so too. Thank for the drink.”

#cod mw2 #captain john price #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #taskforce 141 #captain price #modern warefare ii #modern warfare 2022 #eld writes

[pastelwitchling]

Hello, I'm not sure if you've done this before, but would you be willing to write about how everyone else who worked on the Lockheart machine took awhile to be affected but Alex only took 2 days to be on a ledge? I feel like a lot of his mental illness was overlooked on the show. Thank you!

***

              There were certain perks to being married, Michael was quickly discovering.

              Oh, he wasn’t just talking about the guaranteed sex whenever he wanted it, the way Alex let Michael touch him underneath the table whenever they went out for dinner, or Alex referring to him as “my husband, Michael,” whenever he introduced him to his old Air Force buddies. Though those were definitely perks, one of which Michael would be taking full advantage of tonight when he got Alex home and alone.

              But he meant the other perks. The “work” perks, as he liked to call them. The way he got to stroll into one of the most hidden-away, discreet, restricted organizations in the world with his hands in his pockets, uncaring and unperturbed at the fact that he was surrounded by the world’s most brilliant scientists, soldiers, and—for some—assassins.

              The way he got to take the elevator up to the highest level where barely anyone else got to go because his baby had clearance. Mostly, Michael loved being able to check in on Alex, and satisfy any lingering anxiety he still had after he’d come to Deep Sky for the first time to find the man he loved standing on a ledge, almost lost to him forever.

              As usual, something in Michael’s chest settled and the dread that had been squirming in the pit of his stomach dissipated to nothing as he pushed open Alex’s office door (because coming in without needing to knock was another husband perk) and found Alex studying some files at his desk with Eduardo beside him. Safe and sound.

              Without even looking up from his papers, Alex said, “Hey, baby.”

              Michael couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, and did what he’d been itching to do all day. Not caring that Eduardo was there, he slid a hand into Alex’s hair and pulled his head in, kissing his crown, then his forehead. He could never settle for just one with Alex.

              As if reading his thoughts, Alex scoffed, trying to hide his own smile, and failing to will away his blush.

              “All right,” he murmured, “I get it. I’ll just use the bathroom, then we can go.”

              “Hurry up,” Michael said against the shell of his ear, low enough that only Alex would hear. “I missed you too much today.”

              Alex lightly slapped his chest, but still pecked his lips when he stood. Michael grinned like an idiot as he watched Alex walk out, but it fell as soon as he turned to Eduardo and found him staring back, unamused.

              “Tell me,” he sighed, picking up the file Alex had just finished with, “are you capable of restraining yourself for two minutes? I do need my top agent beyond your own horny schedule.”

              Michael raised a brow, unapologetic. “Have you seen your top agent?”

              Eduardo merely narrowed his eyes, then resumed his work in filing away the documents. “How’s he doing at home? He tells me he’s fine, but a Manes man’s definition of fine isn’t the same as a normal human’s.”

              Michael tilted his head, brows pinched. “Why’re you askin’? Does he not seem okay?”

              “Fine,” Eduardo echoed, shrugging a shoulder. “But I confess, after the incident with the Lockhart Machine, I worry for him. If he wasn’t so indispensable, I’d give him a few months off. Maybe a year.”

              Michael shifted a little on the spot, trying to wipe away the horrifying memory that clung to him every time he even thought of Alex working in this place. He pressed his lips together in an attempt to calm himself down before he spoke, but the edge stuck in his voice, “Then I guess you should’ve been keeping a better eye out when you assigned the damn thing, huh?”

              Eduardo stopped what he was doing and met Michael’s eyes. Part of Michael argued that this was Alex’s boss, that he knew Michael was an alien, and that he should probably retreat. Still, he couldn’t deny that there was always going to be a resentful, louder part of him that blamed Eduardo and Deep Sky for where Alex had ended up that day.

              Maybe Ramos could sense that because he leaned back in his seat, and while Michael might’ve been expecting a retort or argument, he merely heaved a sigh. He looked like he blamed himself, too.

              “You’re right,” he said calmly. “We should’ve. Now you, me, and my nephew spend every minute he’s here sneaking glances at him to make sure he’s doing okay.”

              Michael’s anger ebbed at the sight of Eduardo’s guilt. He started shaking his head, to say that it was in the past and Alex was safe and that was all that mattered, but then Eduardo went on—

              “It’s strange though.”

              He paused. “Strange?”

              “All the others,” Eduardo shook his head, “it took them years to fall to the Lockhart Machine. Alex shattered in under two days.” He shrugged. “He lasted longer against its power than any of the others, long enough for us to get to him, but the others didn’t even feel its effects in the beginning.” He pushed himself out of his chair with a groan. “I always knew his father had beaten him down, but it must’ve taken an especially broken mind for the Lockhart Machine to penetrate that easily.” He patted Michael’s shoulder. “Good thing his heart’s always been stronger.”

              Eduardo said this like it was a comfort, like Michael was owed for this strength in Alex. But Michael couldn’t hear him. All he could think about was Alex’s mind, damaged and brittle because of . . . well, it could only have been because of—

              “It wasn’t you,” Eduardo simply as he let go, turning his back to Michael to gather the files.

              Michael blinked, still caught in the dredges of his thoughts. “Huh?”

              “You’re not the one who put him on that ledge,” he said, as easily as though he was talking about the weather. When he smiled over his shoulder, Michael was at a loss. “You’re the one that kept him from falling off of it.” His hands full, Eduardo nudged Michael’s arm with his elbow. “He knows that. Figured you should know it, too.”

              “Are you interrogating my husband again?” Alex asked as he came back in, pulling his jacket on.

              Eduardo didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t regret that instance, he disabled our security cameras and broke into our headquarters.”

              “I had a good reason for that.”

              “You were trying to get Alex a sandwich.”

              “I wasn’t sure he’d eaten.”

              “What do you think we do here, let him starve?”

              “My husband, my responsibility!”

              “Is it also your responsibility to try to have to sex with him in our offices?”

              “That was a storage closet!”

              “It was a high-tech lab, aren’t you supposed to be a genius?”

              “Enough!” Alex snapped, waving his arms to get their attention. “My god, like nephew like uncle.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and huffed. “Can we go now please?”

              “Please do,” Eduardo said, eyes narrowed at Michael. “Kyle did warn me . . .”

              “You Valentis,” Michael smiled sweetly, guiding Alex out of the room with an arm around his waist. He wouldn’t deny he was eager to get him out of there. “Always such a treat.”

              Michael had no idea he’d been silent on the way out until they were by his truck and Alex came around to the driver’s side, fixing his jacket collar. “You okay?”

              He hesitated, searching Alex’s face for any secret discomfort or unhappiness. He didn’t find it.

              “You’re the one that kept him from falling off of it.”

              He cupped Alex’s neck, his fingers buried in the hair at the nape, and he smiled softly. “Yeah, baby, I’m fine. Kiss me?”

              Alex raised a brow and smirked. “You know you never have to ask.” He leaned in and kissed Michael’s lips once, twice, and only pulled away laughing when Michael had started pushing him against the truck. “Not here, Michael!”

              Michael held onto his hips. He didn’t want to let him go just yet. Or ever. Smiling against Alex’s mouth, already eager to kiss him again, he whispered, “Why not? I can just disable the security cameras again.”

***

Happy malex Monday ❤️

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

[obsidiancreates]

Icewild (Part 3)

"Hey man. Yer butt flap is down."

"What?!" Taishen reaches back to feel, his golden scales turning bright molten orange as he blushes. "So indecent! Thank you for telling me! Would you like me to check your backside?"

"Nah, if mines down its just a nice fuckin' view." Gideon chuckles deeply and puffs his cigar. "Not to brag or anythin'."

"Well... alright." Taishen peeks anyway, because even if Damien ashamed there are possibly still ghosts down here who might not want to see any bare behinds. Gideon is buttoned up fine, though the overalls are clearly too small for him. Taishen would feel bad for him about that if the man's regular clothes seemed like they fit, but they also seemed a bit small.

Maybe he does that on purpose. Why he would, Taishen doesn't know. It seems very uncomfortable.

"Well, uh, let''s see. I've never really handled plumbing before..."

"Then why the hell'd you offer to check it out?"

"Well, I figured if it's just frozen I could melt it." Taishen produces a gorgeous flame in his palm, a delicate and refined dancing flame that, though it may be the same as what he uses in battle, is more settled in this peaceful context.

"Oh-ho yeah. I can help with that." Gideon grins, his beard sparking and crackling like the beginnings of a wildfire. Taishen's flame is reflected in Gideon's eyes, but the reflection seems wilder, raging, all-consuming.

"Um... well." Taishen holds his hand out in front of him to light their way. "How-how did you unlock your powers, then?"

"Fuckin' born with 'em, man."

"Oh! You didn't have an grand adventures, or... meetings with great beings?"

"I mean... my Pa was a pretty great guy."

"Oh! So you get if from him?"

"Nah, Pa was human."

"... I'm not sure we're getting anywhere with this."

"Well, why're ya askin'? Weren't you born with yours?"

"Not exactly. My niece went missing, and while searching for her I met a great ancient dragon, who awoke the powers within me."

"... Pretty fuckin' cool backstory." Gideon nods. "Hey, quick question. Does your niece bite you?"

"Not since she was a baby, I raised her not to do such things!"

"Wait, you raised her?"

"Well, yes-"

"Geez, man, you outta talk with Gricko later! Couple a single dads, he'd fuckin' love that. Unless you're not single, then maybe it wouldn't be as fun for 'im."

"Well, I am single, but I don't see how that matters."

"Matters 'cause he is too."

"I don't know if we'll really have much to talk about anyway. His... daughter, seems... seem to be a different situation."

"How?"

"Well... she's an owlbear."

"And? All kinds of different fuckin' people in the world, man."

"No, that's not what I meant-"

"Guess I found out why you're single."

"I- well it's mostly because I'm exploring the world and trying not to freeze to death-"

"And how do you keep warm to not freeze to death? Having some fun, if you know what I mean, heh-heh." Gideon elbows Taishen, knocking him into the wall of the waterways by accident. Taishen gives a little shout and rights himself, used to such things from Barnabos but still caught off guards thanks to the current subject matter.

"It's really just not the time or place for that kind of thing!" Taishen gestures around them. "My life recently has been very much a life-or-death situation!"

"And?"

"And-! And so it's just not the time for that sort of thing!"

"... We're on different fuckin' pages, man. I sleep with people in the middle of major situations all the fuckin' time."

"And that's very disturbing to know, please do not tell me these things!" Taishen prays they're close to the opening to the cave. "I spent years raising my niece, and now I'm trying to survive long enough to get back to her!"

"Alright, alright, I get it." They walk in silence for a little while.

"... But just so you know, ladies love the fire tricks." Gideon takes a swig from his flask, swishes it around, tilts his head up, and spits out a fountain of fire! The whole corridor lights up, and Taishen shouts as he ducks out of the way.

"Goodness!"

"Fuckin' cool, right?" Gideon hands the flask over. "Try it, man! Just light it in your mouth and spit it real quick!"

"Spitting it seems a little gross."

"It's fire. Fire can't be dirty."

"Well, that does make sense..."

"Yeah, man!"

"Should you step out of the way? Can you be burned?"

"Eh, barely."

"Alright then..."

Taishen takes a tentative drink.

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

Queenie sits on Jornir's shoulder. "Why're we watchin' this guy again?"

Torbek, but a few feet away, sits chewing on a rock. Frost uses his mind hand to remove the rock, and Torbek makes a sad noise. Frost gives Torbek a piece of soft wood, which Torbek also begins to gnaw on.

"His state... concerns me."

"Ha, no shit." Skrimm sits nearby, swirling a bottle of brandy. "That guy's life seems fucked, and that's comin' from me." He takes a big drink.

"Skrimm, didn't you say you can do that thing where you look in souls or somethin'?" Queenie sighs, leaning against Jornir's head. "I don't think he's very malicious."

"Oh, look at that! Finally someone asks about my powers!" Skrimm looks at Torbek. "I'll try it, but if I had to bet I'd bet all I'll get is sad."

Skrimm focuses on Torbek and, like how he can summon the Brutal Blade with the mere flick of a wrist, flicks something in his mind or soul to see in Torbek's.

After a moment Skrimm hears, whispered in the back of his mind and drifting to the forefront, the word content.

"He's just relaxing." Skrimm shrugs, leaning back again. "He's content. Guess the guy has some pretty low standards." Skrimm takes another drink of his cheap brandy and a bite of some definitely-gone-off cheese.

Jornir eyes Skrimm, but doesn't say anything.

Queenie hops off of Jornir's back. "Well in that case, I'm gonna go make him feel a little more welcome. Jornir's been glarin' at him all day."

"I am not glaring. I am just... looking."

"You've been glarin', Jornir, ya wear you're heart on your sleeve sometimes."

"... I do?" Jornir looks at Skrimm, who makes an exaggerated face of confusion and shrugs.

Queenie hops away without another word, right up to Torbek. Torbek startles a little when she does.

"Ah! Did Torbek do something wrong?! Torbek is only chewing on what Frost says he can chew on!"

"Why're you chewin' on anythin', honey?"

"Mmmm, Torbek is bored."

"So yer chewin' on rocks?"

"Torbek chews on rocks often."

"Well, how about we find you a game or somethin' instead, how's that sound?"

Torbek lights right up! "Torbek loves games! He helped Mr. Kremy rig them all the time!"

"Torbek!" Kremy hisses.

"He did though, Kremy," Gricko chimes in.

"We're not talkin' about the carnival with folks who didn't work the carnival!"

"Sorry, Mr. Kremy." Torbek shrinks down a bit.

"Hey, don't you be snappin' at him!" Queenie snaps back.

"Excuse you, he's my em- I mean, my friend!"

"Oooooh, Torbek doesn't want more fighting!" Torbek covers his ears. "Torbek wants to play that game, pleaseeee, Torbek will never ask for anything else!"

"Alright, alright." Queenie glares ar Kremy again while she takes Torbek's hand and leads him away. "There's some snow just over there at the edge of the clearin', you ever made a snow angel before?"

"Noooo."

"Well neither have I, but I heard they're real fun so let's try it out."

Queenie and Torbek head off, and Kremy keeps an eye on them until they're out of sight. "Gotta bad feelin' about that, fellas."

"Oh, what's the worst that could happen, Kremy?" Gricko says. "In fact, Hootsie! Why don't we go join them, ah, ah? Alright let's go!" Gricko and Hootsie race off.

"It seems like a bad idea to me as vell."

Kremy and Frost both scream and jump up, Frost's fur standing on end and Kremy's shadow wiggling like a snake in a trap.

"I am Ketrothstein, but ah, you may call me Ket." He nods at them. "And I am also stuck in this vorld vhere I do not belong, as I have heard you are, and I thinkve should vork together to all return to our homes."

#legends of avantris #icebound #once upon a witchlight #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic