#I’m on the hearing side until there’s a crowd and then I’m a shield

[footprintsinthesxnd]

hey girly! Idk if your requests are open but we neeeeeed something for bucky from mota. maybe something like enemies to lovers with a war nurse? thxxxx

A Second Chance

Thank you so much for your request anon. I’m so sorry it took so long. I feel that I may not have the skill set to write John Egan as well as other writers but I’m hoping that I can do him justice. Also two posts this weekend because why not.

John Egan was insufferable. Y/n had decided that from the moment she’d first met him, with his cocky smile, his stupid moustache, his bright eyes and… no he was just insufferable. She’d never met a man so full of himself that he gave his best friend the same nickname, and yet Gale Cleven seemed like the sweetest man on earth.

“You’re staring again,” Rosie chuckled, looking up from his battered book ‘Of Mice and Men’ with a cheeky smile.

“Yes with utter disgust, I mean look at him,” Y/n pointed, watching as Rosie glanced over at the Major who was currently leaning against the bar, flirting with the poor barmaid who seemed besotted with him. “He’d flirt with anything that moved.” 

“Including you apparently,” Rosie chuckled, “Just admit that you aren’t a tiny bit jealous. I just want to hear you admit it.”

Y/n glared daggers at the pilot who was using his book to shield his smiling face. She lurched forward trying to smack him but he shoved the book at her.

“No, no, not the moustache again,” he shielded his hand over his mouth, eyes wide as he glared at her. She may have accidentally pulled his moustache once when they were arguing about the same Major and Rosie’s moustache had taken the hit.

“You know that was an accident.”

“Yes, but it’s never grown the same since,” he protested, stroking his facial hair thoughtfully. “You’re always moaning about Major Egan's moustache, I thought mine was a goner.”

Y/n sighed dramatically, slouching in her chair. She wondered if she should tell Rosie the real reason why she held such a grudge towards John Egan. That, however, would involve her confessing that she was madly in love with John.

Rosie’s eyes remained trained on his book and Y/n fought the urge to interrupt him again. Instead, she remained silent, thinking back to that night in June when the air in London had been close and hot, sticking to the sweat on her skin, the pale evening light casting shadows over the hotel room, the white sheets soft and comfortable, his embrace loving, his words kind and… all completely false.

Y/n hadn’t believed in love at first sight but seeing John Egan in his uniform, smirking at her across the crowded pub, something inside her had changed. He’d been effortlessly charming and she was eating out of his palm before the night was through.

John Egan had promised to visit her, promised he’d write, but several months passed and no letters came Y/n gave up, putting John behind her. That was until she had to report to Thorpe Abbott RAF base and ran into a particular Major.

John, however, seemed oblivious to their previous encounter, barely sending her a smile as he strolled passed with several other pilots by his side. From that day forward Y/n held a grudge against John Egan.

“Here we go…” Rosie mumbled under his breath, but before Y/n could ask what he meant a low hum came from behind her.

“Evening Rosie, Y/n,” John nodded to both of them, Gale Cleven by his side doing the same.

“Majors,” Rosie greeted them, placing his book down on the table.

“Major Cleven,” Y/n greeted Gale, her eyes avoiding the other Major. Gale glanced quizzically between the pair, before looking to Rosie for answers, but he only shrugged.

“Have I done something to offend you, Darling?” John smirked at her, leaning across the table, his moustache twitching at the corners. He had the same cocky air about him that he always wore but the added nickname just added fuel to the fire that was already burning.

Y/n snorted, “Do not think your presence has such an effect on me, Major. I’m afraid not every woman falls at your feet.”

Gale let a low whistle slip from his lips, but John just grinned, “Alright, I see someone’s a little jealous, didn’t realise I had an admirer.”

Y/n stood swiftly from her chair, rounding the table and jabbing her finger into John’s chest, “I am not jealous and why would I be? Why would I lower my standards to such an arrogant, self-centered man.” She removed her finger from his chest, turning on her heels and exiting the pub as fast as her legs would allow her.

Gale looked between Rosie and John, “Will someone please explain what just happened?”

Rosie shrugged, picking up his book and fumbling through the pages until he found his spot. John chuckled, “I think I may have offended her in some way, though I know not how.”

“You really think you offended her, huh?” Gale replied sarcastically, avoiding his friend's light shove with an amused laugh.

John truly did wonder what he’d done so wrong to offend her. He’d only known her a few months when she turned up on base dressed in her dress blues declaring she was newly assigned to Thorpe Abbott infirmary. He greeted her with a smile and she glared at him in response. From that day forward it had been an all-out war between the two of them.

Y/n had just finished tidying up the examination room when there was a light tap at the door, she called out ‘enter’, her back still turned to whoever it was.

“This is quite a nice place you’ve got here, Darling,” John declared, leaning against the doorframe, smiling devilishly.

Y/n sighed, instantly on the defensive, “What do you want, Major,” she emphasised his rank disdainfully, rolling her eyes as she continued to pack up the crate of dressings.

John hummed behind her, moving around the room until he was in front of her once more, “So…” he paused, craning his neck to try and catch her eye. “How are you finding life on base?”

That’s it, John, a nice simple question. She can’t get too offended by that, right?

Y/n all but tutted, shaking her head, “Life would be just fine, except a certain Major keeps ruining my day.” She shoved passed him, carrying the crate out of the room and down the corridor, her heels clicking against the tiled floor followed by a larger heavier footfall.

“Hey Darling, wait up. I hadn’t finished talking to you,” John protested, moving swiftly in front of her and stopping her movements.

“What?” She snapped this time, her patience wearing thin and the long list of jobs she had still playing on her mind.

John sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, “I just want to know what I did. I’ve barely said two words to you since you got here and somehow I’ve offended you. Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry, okay?” He didn’t mean to sound so exasperated but he wasn’t sure what more he could say.

Y/n watched him, her face faltering ever so slightly before the stoic expression returned. “The fact that you don’t remember makes all of this worse. I didn’t realise our night was so awful you pushed it from your mind. So much for ‘I’ll keep in touch’,” she spat, pushing the crate into him and moving on passed without a backward glance. She’d said her piece, he could do with that what he will.

John sat on the wing of Mugwump, his legs swinging in mid-air as he took a long swig from his hit flask. His mind still reeling from the afternoon's events as the guilt ate away at him.

He’d fished the letter out from his belongings, tracing over the return address. He should have realised her name was familiar, but then again he should have written her back.

John was still trying to piece together how he hadn’t realised it was her, but with the amount they’d both consumed he was surprised Y/n even remembered him. That still didn’t help clear his conscience.

“Bucky, you up there,” Gale called, glancing around the plane until he noticed the pair of legs hanging from the wing. “What are you doing?”

“I messed up Gale,” John mumbled, taking another drink. He was always impressed by how much whiskey his hot flask could hold and he was starting to feel a nice warm sensation as it flowed around his body.

“What have you done?” Gale asked, hoisting himself up the ladder and onto the wing beside John. He offered Gale his hit flask but the other pilot shook his head, waiting for his friend’s explanation.

“Do you remember that night I had in London a few months ago? When I said I met this amazing woman and we had a wonderful night together, she wanted me to write to her and she wrote me a letter and I never replied,” John rambled, his tongue becoming looser as the alcohol flowed. “Well, that’s Y/n, the nurse on base. It’s the same woman, Gale.”

Gale nodded, processing his friend's confession, “Well at least now we know why she’s so angry at you all the time, you were a total ass.”

John rolled his eyes glaring at Gale, “Thanks Buck, that’s really helpful.” Groaning, John pushed himself up, balancing precariously on Mugwump’s wing. “I’ve gotta make it up to her, Buck. Women like grand gestures, don't they?”

Buck shuffled further away from the edge of the wing before standing, grasping his friend's hands, “I don’t think she wants a grand gesture, Bucky. I think she just wants you to apologise.”

Passing back and forth down the infirmary corridor, John found himself fighting the urge to make a run for it. He could easily head down the corridor and back out onto the hardstand before anyone noticed he was there in the first place.

Movement from within the infirmary caught his eye. He watched curiously as Y/n moved along the beds, sitting down beside a wounded airman, his head clad in bandages, covering the burns he’d sustained on the last mission. She was speaking quietly to him, too quietly for John to hear, but he saw the young man instantly relax in her presence. She was a good nurse and John had taken her kindness for granted. He had to make things right.

He wrapped his knuckles against the door, waiting for the mumbled reply, before pushing it open. Y/n was smoothing down some fresh bedding, tucking the sheets tightly into the bed.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he interrupted, watching as her movements still and her whole body stiffened. He hated that he had this effect on her.

“What can I do for you, Major?” Her voice was plain, emotionless and her eyes seemed hollow, as though she stared right through him.

John felt his palms sweating as he spoke, “I need to talk to you, to apologise for my behaviour.” Y/n seemed uninterested in what he had to say, continuing with the task at hand, but John wasn’t about to give up on her again.

“My behaviour has been unacceptable and I know that I can probably never make it up to you but I want to try. I was not in my best form the night that we met, I was drunk and uncaring and I’m sorry I never wrote back. I intended to but I just never did, and I have no excuse, I’m just sorry I never did. You’re a great girl and any man would be lucky to have you write to them, I only wish that I hadn’t messed things up.”

John had never outed his heart out before, he’d never even revealed this kind of vulnerability to Gale, so he was a little shocked. Had he said too much? Would she hate him even more now?

Y/n had stopped her movements, still bent over the bed, her hand clutching the sheet. John watched her shoulders sag, and a long, drawn-out sigh slipped from her lips.

“It’s okay, John,” she murmured, defeat evident in her appearance. “I knew the kind of man you were when we met, I was just excited that a man such as yourself wanted to give someone like me any kind of attention.

She stood up, a few tears trickling down her cheeks, “You know the worst thing was I really did think you’d write back. That’s what hurt the most. Then when I got my orders to move to Thorpe Abbott I thought maybe we had a chance, but you didn’t even recognise me and I knew I never stood a chance.”

The pair stood in silence, the clock on the wall ticking louder than ever as time passed. John spoke up first, unable to stand the tension any longer.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, for all of it. I understand now why you hate me so much, and I wouldn’t blame you. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Any way at all?”

Y/n’s forehead creased as she thought, her nose wrinkling as it had the same night they’d met when he’d asked her about her family. He could see it now, all the small details that he’d appreciated when he met her, if only he’d taken the time to study her when she came to base he’d have known.

Y/n shook her head, “What’s done is done. Let’s just move on and forget about it all.” She turned away, returning to the bed she’d been making, but John grabbed her arm.

“I don’t want to forget it, any of it. That night with you was one of the best nights of my life. I was free from judgment when I was with you. You never once called me Major or treated me like I was better than you, you treated me like a normal person,” John admitted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “And I’d really like another shot if you’d let me.”

“Alright,” Y/n replied, “But if you break my heart again, Major then I won’t be so forgiving.”

John chuckled, saluting her, “Anything you say, Ma’am.”

Y/n rolled her eyes turning back to her job, but John spun her back around to face him, “I have some leave coming up to go to London. What do you say to come with me?”

Y/n smiled softly, “I’d love to, but I don’t know whether I can get the leave.”

“All sorted, it’s already been approved.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “Well that’s pretty cocky of you, Major. What were you planning on doing if I said no?”

John grinned, “I would have just asked Buck to come with me, although he’s not nearly as beautiful and I don’t think I’d want to share a bed with him, he snores you know.”

Y/n laughed, moving her arms so they rested behind his neck, fumbling with the soft hair at the base of his neck. “Alright Major, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

John grinned, cupping her cheek softly in his palm, he pressed his lips down to her, his moustache tickling her lips but that was the least of her concerns. His hands moved to her hips, resting firmly and pulling her closer. He smiled into the kiss, it felt so right, bringing back all the memories from London all those months ago. He wished he’d written her back now, he could have been kissing her all this time, but at least he could make up for lost time now and he intended to.

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @blueberry-ovaries

#masters of the air #john egan #john egan x reader #masters of the air fic #hbo war #gale cleven #rosie rosenthal #John Egan x y/n

[meo-on-prairie]

Keep it Lowkey

Sukuna x Reader

Prompt: “Be as quiet as you can ‘cause if anyone sees they’ll just blow shit up” - Lowkey by NIKI

Words count: 1.1k

Tags: bodyguard!sukuna x Popstar!reader, fluff, coworkers to lovers (????), just pure indulgence, pure fluff

Rambling: it’s a little fluffy Sukuna fic inspired by “lowkey”-NIKI. Full fantasizing. I’m writing while I still have the time lmao. If i was in this situation, my brain would become mush.

Note to self: get a new bodyguard. You mentally note as you stare at Sukuna, your current bodyguard, in all his glory. You have to fire him. He’s not bad at this job by any means. On the contrary, he’s excellent at his job. With his nearly 7ft build, his… well trained body, and his tattoos, he looks very intimidating. Ever since your team hired him, you have encountered much much less crazy fans, in fact you feel safe enough to post pictures while on vacations instead of having to wait until you’re back at home to post them. But lately, he has been a distraction to your work.

You didn’t pay much attention to Sukuna when your security team first introduced him to you. You were too busy prepping for your performance at a music festival. You just greeted him quickly, thanked him for joining the team, and hurried on stage. Sukuna has been working for you for about 2 years now, and you hate it. You hate it because you’re pinning after your bodyguard. And the smug fucker knows it.

The way he smirks at you when he shields you from the flashing light of cameras. The way his hand casually grazes your back and hip, lingering a little longer than he should but not long enough to be noticeable. The way he leans in a little too close to whisper in your ears about potential danger in a large crowd. This fucker know how his actions make you blushing and knees weak. He knows and he’s teasing you. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Sukuna teases, snapping you out of your train of thoughts.

“Why would I need to take a picture of someone I've been seeing everyday for 2 years? I’m tired of seeing your face.” you reply nonchalantly, redirecting your focus on the notebook in your lap. You’re currently in the artist lounge, alone with Sukuna. The music show won’t start for another 3 hours, but you like to be early. You’re waiting on your makeup artist as you work on writing another song for your album, but it’s looking hopeless ‘cause you have no clue what to write.

“The way you’ve been staring at me says otherwise, Little Star.” Sukuna pressed on with a smirk. 

“Please, do tell, how have I been staring at you?” You said sarcastically. Closing your notebook, you ain’t getting anything done with Sukuna in the same room as you. You get up to pour yourself a glass of wine that the music show provides to its VIP artists. 

“Like you’re mentally undressing me in your head. I’m surprised none of your fans or paparazzi notice it.” He shrugged. Sukuna eyes your form as you pour your wine. You look good enough to devour, he thinks. The sparkly, skimpy outfit leaves little for the imagination.

“Because I’m a professional, Sukuna.” you side-eyes him, sipping on your wine. 

“Oh, so you do undress me with your eyes” Sukuna is full on smirking now. You fucked up. 

As your mind races to find a good response to his remark, you feel a pair of arms snaking around your waist. You look up to see Sukuna towering over you. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This isn’t good, your heart is beating too loud, you feel like even he can hear it. Your mind is turning white. You want to run away right this second. You feel like a mouse being trapped under a tiger’s paw.

“Come on, Little Star. You could’ve been more honest with yourself… With me…” His voice dropped to a low volume, you can feel the rumbling of his chest, he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Come on now, what do you want?”

His breath fanned your ears and your brain short circuit. This isn’t good. This is down right dangerous. You can feel your self restraint slipping. “Whatever deity above, whoever you are, give me power.”. Clearly whatever deity above is not on your side because you can’t take your eyes off the way his collarbone look at this angle. Now that he’s leaning down to your height, you are finally able to see the way the muscles on his shoulder flex with his arm on your hip. His tone biceps. And oh god, his chest, they look so incredibly⸻

“Come on, Little Star, tell me.”

You feel his lip nibbling on your ear. You’re done for. 

“Y-y-you. I want you.” you are barely able to choke out. There is no turning back now.

“That’s more like it.” Sukuna breathes out right before he presses his lips against yours. 

You melt into him as soon as your lips make contact with his. Your knees finally give out under you, if not for his hands that were on your waist, you would be on the ground. He holds you up and against his body and you wrap your legs around his torso. His hand moves from your waist to your thigh so he can hold you up better. 

Your hand slides from shoulders to his nape to the back of his head, tugging on his hair as you kiss him back. He kisses you like your lips are the sweetest nectar and he’s a starved man.  Hungrily, ferociously, desperately. His hand glides from your thigh to your ass, slipping under your skimpy stage outfit. If Sukuna could have it his way, he would tear the outfit off of you right then and there. But that could wait till after the music show.

You don’t know how long you were kissing him. It felt like time stopped. The world stopped. There is no one else but him, nothing else but his kiss. So this is what you've been denying yourself of for so long. Sukuna was right, you should’ve been more honest. You hate that he's right.

A knock on the door, snap you both out of the haze. Your makeup artist. You forgot that you were waiting for her. In fact, you forgot you were at a music show and is about to go on stage. The thing this man does to you. He’s dangerous. 

“We’ll continue this later. I’ll let you undress me with your hands this time.” He said with a smirk as blood rushed to your cheeks and ears, tinting them red. 

Sukuna leans down to give you a quick peck on your forehead before turning around to open the door for your makeup artist. 

Maybe you don’t need to fire him after all. You’ll have to keep your relationship a secret though, if you want to keep your fan base. It’s not easy being famous. Fortunately, like you said, you’re a professional.

#sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[lazycats-stuff]

Congrats on 500 followers 🥳 ! I know that the weapon!reader fic came out today but I so badly want a fic about how he got adopted into it, like Ik you told us but could do you do write it out, if you get what I mean? Sorry I suck at explaining lol

I’m so sorry to request so soon, so take your time ❤️

Thanks, it's time for the origin story it seems. Also, I'm closing request for a while, I got 9 of them in my inbox and I would like to catch up with them, so just watch my blog description to see when they open. Also, I wrote 2.9k words... What the hell?

Summary: How (Y/N) got adopted.

Warnings: violence, murder, (C/S)= call sign, (F/N)=fake name, (F/L/N) = fake last name, a random target for (Y/N) to kill.

A weapon. A thing. Not even a human being. That was the motto he was told over and over again. He doesn't remember the life he had before all of this training. Or maybe he was just training from when he was born? Who really knows.

He was always on a strict schedule. Wake up at 6 am, have breakfast at 6:30, then it was time to do training. Whether it's martial arts or just being at a shooting range, his days were often filled with training or missions.

He was always a shadow. A person who just melted with people, who blended in with the crowd and who could disappear easily. More appropriate name would be ghost.

He met the best assassins in their world and he earned their respect for his skills and undying devotion and motivation for the mission.

Even Ra's al Ghoul respected (Y/N) and that was something that is not easy to achieve. Even more so, he was shocked when Ra's wanted to meet with him. It was something about a mission that he was going to get.

It was in Gotham city.

And by meeting Ra's al Ghoul, that meant going to his own base. He closed his eyes as he was driving in the helicopter. The vibrations were slightly comforting as he watched the base materialize in front of his eyes.

He was always in awe of Ra's al Ghouls base. The man was untraceable and the fact that he popped up somewhere in the middle of nowhere and the fact that he led (Y/N) to his base was incredible.

When the helicopter landed, (Y/N) took of his headset and stepped out. He squinted due to the sun shining in his face. He bowed his head when he saw Ubu, Ra's al Ghoul's second in command.

" Welcome to our base (C/S). Please follow me. " Ubu said, turning on his heel and walking back to the base. On both sides there was a row of assassins, just ready to strike at moments notice.

It was eerie. He walked right behind Ubu, looking up at the big base. And that man is untraceable too. This base is massive and although in the middle of nowhere, it's easy to find something massive.

They stepped inside into the shade and (Y/N) was relieved to be shielded from the sun. He saw Talia al Ghoul as she walked by, always gorgeous, but fatal. Femme fatal and black widow mixed in one really.

He remembers one altercation that he had with Talia a few years back. Turns out that they were on the same mission and Ra's and (Y/N)'s handler didn't bother to let each of them know before they tried to kill each other.

(Y/N) still remembered the fight and how brutal it was. Talia might not seem to be physically strong, but she most definitely is strong. She could really punch and the entire room was completely trashed. It wasn't until the room was trashed, faces were bloody and (Y/N) broke Talia's nose and Talia broke his wrist.

Ra's and his handler were shocked when they saw the state of them. Talia and (Y/N) were glaring at each other and if not for their handlers, they would have gotten at it again.

But now, they had mutual respect.

Where was that mission anyway? Metropolis? It could be. He remembers hearing about Superman in the news and he also read the newspaper, seeing that Superman was on the front page.

Talia and (Y/N) nodded towards each other, a sign of saying hello and respect for each other. She walked off down the corridor and (Y/N) turned his head back to look forward.

They stopped in front of the big doors and the two guards opened it. (Y/N) stepped into a lavish room. My God, does Ra's have money to burn. Marble, gold... On the left there was a big bookcase with first editions of the biggest literature works. The said man was sitting down at the balcony, seemingly drinking bourbon.

Who even drinks bourbon this early in the morning?

" (Y/N), please, do sit. " Ra's said, pointing to a chair opposite of him.

(Y/N) sat down and Ra's poured him a glass. (Y/N) sat, hand grazing the gun in his holster. It was still there, loaded and ready to go.

" Now, you must wonder why I summoned you here. " Ra's started, turning his entire body to look at (Y/N).

" I can only assume that it has something to do with my upcoming mission in Gotham. " (Y/N) said, leaning slightly back, putting his arm around the back of the chair, but still keeping his other hand near his gun.

" That is true. I know you are no stranger to Gotham, but you are a stranger to Batman's modus operandi. "Ra's started, picking up his glass, before twirling the liquid around.

" I'm familiar to how Batman works. I'm afraid you are wasting your time if you called me because of that. " (Y/N) said, watching as Ra's smirked.

" I have no doubt you know how Batman works, but that was all in theory. Your handler never fought with Batman. I have. " Ra's replied, taking a sip of his bourbon.

" Not a drinker I see. Well, I know your mission is not about Batman, you have assassinate a prominent politician, but Batman will be all over it. That man can tell when somebody very well trained does it. He can recognize assassins and he can tell if somebody of your caliber entered the city. " Ra's stated, turning to look at his people training.

" Batman is like a dog with a bone, I believe that's the term that Americans use. And it's a good term for Batman. Once he has something, he won't let go of it, no matter what. I just want to warn you, once you do this, Batman will look high and low for you. " Ra's explained, turning his head to look at the young man, who looked back at him with confidence in his eyes.

" I'm pretty sure that I will be pretty quick with my mission and will be gone by the time I'm done. I will be in the city for just a few hours. " (Y/N) said, now taking the glass.

" And those few hours might change your life. " Ra's said, taking his glass too. He raised it and (Y/N) followed. " A little toast to your mission. May all go well. " They clinked their glasses and (Y/N) murmured hear hear.

A few days later, he was landing in the Archie Goodwin airport. He has a small sports bag with him, containing his suit, some extra clothes and a burner phone. He walked out of the airport, seeing the car already waiting for him.

He got in, already having the keys in on him. He turned the car on and he drove to a small, shabby motel in Gotham. He turned on the radio, listening to news.

" Welcome back from our brake. Tonight, at the city hall, Richard Peterson will be starting as a mayor. In the attendance are a lot of prominent Gotham citizens, including Bruce Wayne himself. Mister Wayne hasn't been so present in these types of events, but since it's a charity party, mister Wayne is always ready to show up. But don't get me wrong, that man did more for our city then anybody in the mayor's office and the government combined. Thank you for listening to our news and we are going to be back with our regular program. "

(Y/N) turned the volume down a bit, not really interested in music. It was a rock song, but (Y/N) didn't really listen. He watched the road in front of him. The said road was empty, expect for a few cars. He was never a fan of Gotham. It was a dirty city, both with actual garbage and by metaphorical garbage.

Corruption, drugs, murders, muggings... Crime all around. There wasn't a single sign of changing until Batman showed up. His handler told him that. he also told him that Batman coming onto the scene in Gotham has changed the world.

And Batman also changed it by creating the Justice League. Many were happy, and by many, he meant civilians. Villains were not so happy and they created their own league, the League of Light. He took a turn and he drove into the motel parking lot. He turned of the ignition and stepped out. He frowned a bit at the smell.

Ew. He took his sports bag and went to the reception. There was this old lady, probably old enough to retire. She was smoking and it seemed like he was her first guest of the day.

" Hello ma'am. " (Y/N) said politely, leaning on the front desk

" Hello sugar. I assume you need a room. "

" Yes ma'am. "

" Give me your name. "

" (F/N) (F/L/N). " (Y/N) said, taking the key from the lady. " Is it possible to pay up front? " (Y/N) asked, feeling a stack of cash in his pocket.

" Of course. I presume cash. "

" Of course ma'am. " (Y/N) said with a fake smile.

" I still got it. " She said, giving (Y/N) his key and (Y/N) gave a hundred dollar bill.

" You can keep the rest ma'am. " (Y/N) said, making her smile.

" Thanks sugar. "

(Y/N) nodded, taking his sports bag and he went to his room. He saw a pool, but there was no way in hell that he would go in there and swim. And besides, he has way to important things to do rather than to take a swim in the pool.

He dropped the sports bag on the bed. Now he had to go check out the city hall and the surrounding buildings. And he also needed to pick up his weapon from his contact here.

This was going to be a fun evening.

(Y/N) huffed as he set him self down onto a roof. He prepared his rifle to stand on the edge. He was in all black, with a black mask covering the bottom half of his face. He also had a black beanie, covering his hair.

He had his gloves on too. He can't have any fingerprints linking him to this. That is the most armature thing ever to be caught over. He sat down on the roof, waiting for the ceremony to start.

He watched the politicians rolling in their expensive cars and wives or husbands under their arm, used as trophies. He never saw the appeal of it, but he himself in a way was a trophy to his handler. Although, not because of his looks like in this case, rather for his skill set.

Also, why do you pay so much for clothes? (Y/N) could see without his binoculars that the dresses were expensive and he never saw the appeal of it.

He took out a small protein bar, munching on it as he waited for his target to arrive. One tip he learnt is to never shot from a rifle when you are hungry. So, it's better to eat something.

He put the wrapper into his pocket and he got down. His target just got out of the building and stood in front of the podium. (Y/N) looked through the scope, setting his sights on the politician.

When everyone settled down, (Y/N) took a breath and pulled the trigger. (Y/N) shot him through his forehead directly. Screams started and the police started scrambling to secure the area. (Y/N) took his rifle and separated it into parts, to fit into his backpack.

And then he ran from the rooftop, sinking into the shadows. The plan for this was to get to a bridge and throw this backpack into the river. And then get to on a plane get out of here.

Batman knew that this assassination had something to do with somebody of high caliber. It was dead on in the center and the fact that whoever did this didn't leave any traces on the roof where he stood.

However, there was a security camera.

" Tim, I need you to hack into a security camera on the building across from the City hall. Look who was there at the time of the murder. "

" Will do B. Alfred is looking into this politician, trying to figure out why he was killed. " Tim said, already hacking into it.

" I will show you the footage now B. " Tim said.

Bruce tapped a few buttons on his gauntlet and the video feed was shown. Bruce just looked at the eyes, saw the munching on the protein bar. And it seems that when he was escaping that the wrapper fell out.

Maybe the wrapper had something on it. " Tim, look for other footage of him. We need to get a face for the recognition. "

" Already on it. "

Bruce hanged up and scanned the wrapper. It had some DNA on it and he could probably have a DNA sample from this. He scanned it now and put it into every database known to man, even through the Justice League database.

Oh my. It got a hit. It was by the name (C/S), aka (Y/N) (L/N). He started making waves in the assassin community. But what ticked Batman off was the fact that he is a teen.

Whoever trained him... Whoever trained was going to be maimed.

" Everyone, I have a name and a face. Track him Tim. I want to know when he got into Gotham. Look at the airport, stations, everything. "

" Okay, but I put his face to find him through the city. Right now, he is on his way to... The airport. Robin and Red Hood could intercept him."

" I will. Let me know where he is and the car he is driving. " Batman said, calling the Batmobile. Time to find (Y/N).

(Y/N) was driving peacefully, just ready to get out of this city. Batman and the others, however, had other plans. (Y/N) never saw them coming. Batman rammed the Batmobile into the right side of (Y/N)'s car, making it turn a sharp left. (Y/N) braced for impact and more importantly, he got his seatbelt on.

He was a bit shocked, but that quickly wore off as he saw what hit him. He wasn't staying long enough to fight Batman. Nobody in their right mind would.

(Y/N) got out, gripping his gun. He saw a fire escape and ran for it. He can't fight him, he needs to get out of this city and far away from Batman and his sidekicks as humanely possible. He looked down and he saw Robin. He knew who Robin was, he saw a photo of him once though.

He climbed even faster, getting onto a roof. Nope. He stopped in front of Batman, who didn't look impressed.

" Hello (Y/N). You need to come with me. "

" I'm afraid not. I have to go back so... " (Y/N) said, ducking to the side to run. He jumped to the next roof, but somehow Red Hood jumped him from the right putting them trough a window on the roof. They both fell down and (Y/N) hit his head against a beam.

The world got dizzy and he heard voiced mixing. He closed his eyes, hoping to die instead.

(Y/N) wasn't so lucky as to die. He woke up with a big headache and he knew that he didn't escape. He opened his eyes and was met with a glass ceiling. He turned his head and was met with the sight of Batman and the others.

" Morning (Y/N). " Batman said, moving closer to the glass.

(Y/N) sighed, sitting up at the small bed here. " Yeah, sure. How can I help you? "

" You can start with telling me who your handler is. " Batman said calmly.

" I'm afraid not. Besides, I only know him as the handler so... "

" Where is the base then? "

" Aren't you supposed to be the detective? " (Y/N) retorted.

" And you are supposed to be a normal teenager. Enjoying life. Going to high school. And not be an assassin for someone. " Batman retorted back.

" Either way, I can't tell you anything. And you are going to keep me here? "

" Yes. And I don't care about the fact you are not telling me who your handler is, I will find him either way. I won't allow you to go back to him. "

" So what are you going to do? Adopt me? " (Y/N) asked sarcastically.

" Yes. " However he didn't expect such serious response.

" No. "

" I mean, I need to keep you here. " Batman said, making (Y/N) go eye wide.

" Now I wish that Red Hood killed me. " (Y/N) said laying back down, making Jason smirk a bit.

" Likewise. " Jason said, making Bruce give him a quick glare.

" You will be better here (Y/N). You will have a chance at a free live. Your own life. No control, not anything you don't like. " Bruce said, trying to appeal to him.

" Hmm. No. " (Y/N) said, closing his eyes.

" Well, I can't send you back to that hell. " Batman said, finality in his voice.

" Well, I still don't like this. "

#dc comics #dc x male reader #batfamily #x male reader #batman x male reader #batkids #platonic relationships

[persephonewritessometimes]

two's a company, three's a crowd // hotch x reid x reader

Summary: You've been meaning to ask Hotch about it for some time, what happens when he agrees to fulfill your fantasy?

Author's Note: This is self-indulgent!! I understand if this is not everyone's taste, but I couldn't find a fic like this that I liked, so I wrote my own!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 3570

Warnings: SMUT, THREES*ME, SUB-SPACE, PET NAMES (pretty girl, baby, little girl), softDOM!HOTCH, softDOM!REID, ORGASM DENIAL, "SIR" AND "DOCTOR" USED TO ADDRESS HOTCH AND REID, "DADDY" USED; light system (all green's, no use of yellow or red); squirting; oral (f receiving); worried!hotch, hotch pov; wizard of oz(?) [reader uses "oz" to describe being in sub space]

Key: y/n = your name

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

We’re enjoying our morning coffee - me with copious amounts of sugar and cream, Hotch just straight black coffee - and I’m toying with the question. I’ve been meaning to ask him for months now, potential embarrassment is the only thing stopping me. I’m picking at my cuticles, starting to sweat, and just decide to blurt it out.

“I want to have a threesome.” Hotch chokes on his coffee, slamming his hand against his chest as he looks at me wide-eyed.

“You couldn’t have waited to ask that until I wasn’t taking a drink?” He croaks, throat certainly scratchy from choking on hot coffee. I give him a sheepish smile and shrug. He looks at me for a few moments, and I can see him collecting his thoughts as he thinks about what to say. Finally, he asks, “How long have you been meaning to ask me this?”

“Um…like six months.”

“Y/N,” he sighs, “I’ve told you you can tell me anything.”

“I know that! It’s just…it’s embarrassing.” I shift my gaze away, trying to shield myself from Hotch’s impending “no”.

“Hey. No. Don’t do that.” I hear him get up and he comes to my side of the table, grabbing my hand. I swallow down the lump in my throat. The embarrassment is worse than I thought it would be. “Y/N, look at me.” I shake my head, but a strong hand soon finds its way to my chin and I’m gently forced to meet his eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed. I was just…surprised. That’s all. If you want a threesome, we’ll have a threesome.”

“I don’t want you to do it just because I want to do it.”

“I’ve…I’ve thought about it too.” My eyes must have widened because he chuckled. “You’re pretty easy to read. You love being adored, what better than to be adored by two people at once.”

“Damn dating a profiler,” I mutter. “So you’re okay with it?”

“Of course, I’m okay with it. I love seeing you happy, pretty girl. Did you have someone in mind?”

“If it’s not too awkward…Reid?” His brow furrows and I just give him the prettiest smile I can. “Come on, you’re already dating one subordinate, why not throw another in the mix? Besides, he’s already agreed.”

“Y/N! You asked him before you asked me?” He exclaims.

“I just wanted to be prepared in case you said yes!” I shoot back.

“I guess, if we were to add anyone, I’d be the most comfortable with Reid. Seeing as we have no attraction to each other.”

“What? You aren’t going to kiss each other for me?” I say, one hundred percent joking, just trying to get a rise out of him.

“Only I get to kiss you.” He raises his eyebrows as he looks at me and I feel my cheeks grow hot. “We need to set some ground rules if we’re going to do this.” I nod furiously, trying to keep a smile off my face. “You’re going to be the death of me someday, you know that?”

-2 Weeks Later-

We had gotten coffee with Reid a week after our initial conversation to set up ground rules. I told them I wanted to be surprised by the actual occurrence, but not anything that happens in it. Hotch got a little possessive in the actual discussion, and we came to the agreement that if double penetration were to happen, Reid had to wear protection and only Hotch actually got to be in my pussy. I was fine with that. We agreed we were fine with dom and sub roles, something Hotch and I naturally already do. Hotch already has been addressed as ‘Sir’ and we settled on ‘Doctor’ for Reid. Watching Reid shift in his seat at that made my heartbeat speed up. Hotch came around to the idea of Reid and I kissing, but he said he would step in if he started to not like it. I had been on edge for the week following, unsure of when they were going to corner me.

It was Saturday, I had been running some errands and came home to a quiet house. I threw on one of Hotch’s t-shirts, forgoing pants as his shirts seemed to drown me anyway. I’m putting books back on the shelf in the bedroom when I hear Hotch clear his throat behind me.

“Aaron! You scared the shit out of me. I could have fallen off this chair.”

“Uh-uh, pretty girl, try again.” He says, arms folded over his chest. I notice the glint in his eyes, the one that’s straight-up predatory, and I can feel my panties start to get damp.

“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” I say quickly, clasping my hands together demurely.

“Good girl.” His voice is low and I clench my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction. “I’ve brought a friend with me today. What’s your color?”

“Green, sir.” My stomach drops to my ass, I wasn’t expecting it to happen today, but that makes it all the more exciting. I watch as Reid steps into the doorframe, looking a little nervous, but eyes already lidded with anticipation of what’s to come. “Hello, Doctor,” I say, inclining my head toward him.

“Come on, little one, don’t be shy for Doctor Reid now,” Hotch says, striding into the room. “Why don’t you go give him a kiss?” I nod and pad over to Reid, who has a flush creeping up his cheeks.

“What’s your color, Doctor?” I whisper, smoothing down his shirt, and easing him into my touch.

“Green.” He whispers back, and his eyes drop down to my lips. I smile and nod at him, that it’s okay, and then his lips are on me. After getting used to kissing Hotch for so long, it feels weird to have someone else kissing me. Reid is tentative at first, letting me set the pace, but after I bite his lip a little bit, any semblance of restraint he had is broken. He grabs my face with his hands, kissing me like a man starved of food, and when his tongue slips into my mouth I moan softly. Reid pulls away gasping and then busies himself with kissing his way down my neck. I feel a soft body behind me and lean into it instinctually. Hotch’s hands grip my waist tight enough that I know it’ll leave a mark. I can already feel him, hot and hard pressing into my back, and as I tilt my head back when Reid finds the spot on my neck that makes me keen, Hotch’s lips are on me, swallowing the noises I’m making. Hotch’s tongue is lazy, but demanding as it slips into my mouth, and the intrusion is one I’m used to. I’m so distracted I don’t realize that Hotch’s hands have moved from my hips and were steadily moving towards my cunt until his fingers slid into my panties and I gasped into his mouth. Reid steps away for a second, unbuttoning his shirt, and Hotch abandons kissing me as we both watch his fingers glide through my arousal before he buries two of them in my cunt. I whimper, hand shooting down to his forearm, my nails digging in as he pumps his fingers slowly.

“Doesn’t she make such pretty sounds, Doctor Reid?” Hotch asks, pressing a kiss into my temple before pulling his fingers out and I whine.

“Yes, she does.”

“You should feel how wet she is, she’s so worked up.” I’m panting a little bit and look up just in time to see Hotch slide the two fingers that had been inside of me into his mouth. “Come on, pretty girl, why don’t you show Doctor Reid how excited you are?” I nod, anything to please him, and shuck off what little clothing I was wearing as I make my way to the bed. Once I’m seated, I spread my legs obscenely wide, pussy dripping and on display for both of them. Reid makes a low noise in his throat and to taunt him further, I drag my fingers through my folds, spreading my arousal. Reid is on me before I register it, yanking my hands away from my cunt, my wrists smarting at his strong grip.

“Don’t touch what’s ours, little girl.” I blink at him a few times. “Do you understand, or do I have to spell it out for you, huh?” He has one eyebrow quirked and I nod furiously.

“I understand, Doctor.”

“Good.” He spits out. “Now be a good girl and stay still. Can you do that for me?” I nod again and he sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed, arms wrapping around my thighs and yanking me to the edge of the bed. I let out a noise of surprise that turns into a moan as Reid licks up my cunt before teasing my clit. My hips are jumping upwards on their own accord, my arousal smearing over Reid’s face. I feel the bed dip beside me, and Hotch, now in just his boxers, situates me between his legs, strong thighs coming to rest on either side of me. Reid’s nose bumps against my clit and I sigh, arms coming up to grab Hotch’s biceps, my top half now supported by his chest and abdomen. When Reid slips two fingers inside of me, my nails dig into Hotch’s biceps, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he’s leaving pretty purple marks on my throat - marks that will be hard to cover but I don’t give a fuck right now. One of my hands shoots down to grab at Reid’s messy curls as I feel myself throttling toward the edge.

“Reid, I’m gonna cum.” He stops immediately, pulling his fingers out of me and sitting back on his heels.

“Try again.”

“Huh?” I’m confused, I was so close and he just stopped.

“Try. Again. Not Reid, baby, not right now.” He says as his gaze drops to my cunt and my thigh twitches in response.

“Doctor. Please. I want to cum. I’m so sorry, I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Please just let me cum.”

“What do you think, Hotch, has she earned it?” Reid says, finally tearing his eyes away from my splayed cunt to look at Hotch, who reluctantly removes his lips from my throat.

“She sounds so pretty when she begs, but no, she hasn’t earned it.”

“Please! I’ll be so good! I promise! I just want to cum!” I cry out, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes.

“You will, pretty girl, just be patient. Reid, switch spots with me.” Reid nods, slipping in behind me, a different pair of thighs now resting on either side of me. Seeing Hotch’s brown eyes look up at me as he’s level with my pussy makes me whine, a low, thready sound. The cheeky bastard winks at me, before literally burying his face in my cunt, and I’m met with a low growl of approval when he finds the mess that Reid had made. Reid’s fingers are dancing down my sides, the featherlight touch a stark contrast to the way Hotch is eating me out. Reid’s fingers come up to pinch and tug at my nipples. My back arches up into his touch and when Hotch slides his fingers back into me, the two sensations are overwhelming, crowding my nervous system. It doesn’t take long for both of them to get me dancing on the edge again, a few tugs and thrusts away from reaching my peak, and my breathing starts to labor, my abdomen tensing, but even though I want it, the peak never comes.

“More,” I gasp out, “More, please, I need more.”

“More? My pretty girl wants more?” Hotch asks, pulling away from me.

“Yes, sir, please. Want your cock. Please. Both. Please. Want you.”

“Fine, we’ll give you what you want. But only because you begged so prettily. Doctor Reid help her up.” Hotch shucks off his boxers, cock hard and leaking, begging for attention. He sits on the edge of the bed. “Come on, pretty girl, hop up on my lap.” I oblige immediately, grinding my cunt into his throbbing cock and he hisses, hands gripping my hips, effectively stilling me. The world is going a little fuzzy, the edges blurred, the anticipation of what’s to come setting my heart into an off-kilter pace. I hear the unmistakable rip of a foil wrapper. “Color, pretty girl?” Hotch says, fingers tilting my chin up until I’m looking him in the eyes.

“Green, green, green,” I whisper, and he chuckles, a quick break in the dominant facade.

“Okay, baby girl, you ready? Doctor Reid’s gonna open you up a little bit, okay?” I nod, and turn my head over my shoulder to see Reid opening the bottle of lube I keep in the nightstand drawer. “Uh-uh, eyes on me, pretty girl. Can you do that?” Hotch says, hand gripping my jaw to bring my attention back to him. “There you go. Just like that.” He kisses me, hard, and when I moan I feel his cock twitch against me. Reid’s fingers slip into my tight hole and I hiss, both at the slight stretch and the cold lube. Reid kisses my shoulder in response.

“I know, baby, just have to make sure you’re ready.” He starts to slowly thrust his fingers in and out, scissoring them apart to open me up and soon enough my hips are meeting his movements. Reid pulls his fingers out and I whine at the loss of contact.

“Go time, pretty girl,” Hotch says, kissing the tip of my nose, as he spreads his legs wider so Reid can step between them. He gently lifts me up, hand guiding his cock through my arousal before he guides me down on his cock. He lets it slide home, and I catch my breath for a few seconds. I feel him twitch inside of me and I clench down on him in response.

“I’m ready, Doctor.”

“Eyes on me, pretty girl, wanna see your face when Doctor Reid fills you up.” I whimper at his words. When I feel Reid start to slide into me my eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming sensation of being full. “Eyes open, honey,” Hotch whispers. I obey him, forcing my eyes as Reid slides home and I moan, loud and unashamed. We stay in that moment for a few seconds, both men letting me adjust to the feeling before they start to thrust. It takes a few tries to get a rhythm going, but we figure it out soon enough and my body starts to feel loose and tense at the same time, my hands desperately clinging to Hotch’s shoulders, my one anchor in the sea.

I can feel my orgasm rising, climbing impossibly high, and I can feel myself slipping under, into a space I’ve only gone a few times, when I was really worked up, or after I came really hard. The world is fuzzy and I’m almost there when I realize Hotch is asking me something. I don’t hear it though, all I’m focused on is the sensation happening between my legs.

“Fuck, coming, coming, I’m coming, Daddy, I-” I let out a scream when I hit my peak, missing the way Hotch’s eyes widened at the name I used for him. I feel myself squirt all over Hotch’s lap, the gush immediately pushing him over the edge with a muffled ‘fuck’, and it feels like my orgasm goes on forever. Reid finishes quickly after, spilling into the condom. I rest my forehead on Hotch’s shoulder, riding out the aftershocks, thighs twitching as Reid pulls out. My breathing is labored and I’m a million miles away. I stay like that, feeling Hotch soften inside of me until he gently pushes me away to look at my face.

“No! Don’t, Daddy.” I cry out, burrowing further into his chest, craving the safety he exudes. His hand comes up to rub my back.

-Hotch’s POV-

She’s really far under. I didn’t realize she was slipping until she called me Daddy. I know what to do though, as she’s gone into sub-space a few times since we started dating. The first time was after we had sex for the first time - scared the shit out of me if I’m being honest. When she came around the first time, she was mortified, apologizing profusely even when I assured her it was fine. Since then, we’ve figured it out, and she really only slips under when I’ve edged her for a long time or we hate-fuck.

“Pretty girl?” I ask, and she hums in response. “Are you far away right now?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice soft.

“Reid, can you grab some dark chocolate and a glass of water from the kitchen please?” He rushes off and I say, “Hey, pretty girl, I have to pull out, okay?”

“No!” She says, starting to cry.

“I know, I know.” My thumbs wipe away her tears. “But I’ve gotta take care of you, okay? Help you feel better? Do you want Daddy to help you feel better?”

“Okay,” She finally whispers. I gently push her up and she sniffles when I slip out of her. She’s shaky on her feet, looking like a deer in the headlights when I stand up, towering over her.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you in the bath, okay?”

“Up?” She asks, looking up at me.

“Of course.” I open my and help her jump up, my arms coming to rest under her her butt as she locks her ankles around my back. I carry her into the bathroom and set her on the edge of the tub as I turn the faucet on and get the water to her favorite temperature. She clings onto one of my wrists as I do so, small hands gripping tightly. When the tub is full, I help her in.

“Daddy, please, get in with me? Please?” I can’t refuse her, she’s always been my weak spot so I slip into the tub behind her, wrapping my arms around her, trying to help her ground herself. She’s quiet and jumps slightly when the door creaks open.

“I got what you asked for. Can I do anything?” Reid asks, handing me the chocolate and glass of water.

“Thank you. And no, we’ll be okay. She just got overwhelmed, she’ll be back in a few hours.” I say, and Reid just nods, dismissing himself from the room to give us space. “Pretty girl?” I ask, and she turns, doe eyes looking into mine. “Can you eat this for me?” I hold the pieces of chocolate out to her and she gingerly takes them from my hand, eating them slowly. “Good girl.” She beams up at me at the praise. “Now, can you drink this?” I hand her the glass of water and she wraps both hands around it, sipping it. It takes her a good ten minutes to finish the whole glass, and I take it from her when she’s done, taking note of her heavily lidded eyes and a sleepy yawn. “Pretty girl, come on, let’s get you into some fluffy pajamas.”

I help her out of the tub, and as I’m drying her off I notice she’s chewing on her lip, brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Was I a good girl, Daddy?” Her lip wobbles a little bit.

“Oh, baby, you were the best girl. You are the best girl. Daddy’s not mad at you. Daddy’s just a little worried, okay?”

“Worried?”

“Yeah, baby, Daddy just wants to make sure you’re okay. Where are you at right now?”

It takes a few seconds for the question to register. “Oz.” She says, quietly.

That’s what she calls being “far away”, she calls it being in Oz. Her eyes are zeroed in on me, fully focused on me, nothing else.

“Do you want to go lay in the poppy fields, pretty girl?” She knows what this means - a nap and cuddling and her eyes light up in recognition.

“Yes! Poppy!” I sweep her up in my arms, bridal style, and carry her into the bedroom, help her into a pair of pajamas, and into bed. Reid had changed the sheets while we were in the bath. I sit, my back against the headboard, and she sprawls over my lap and chest, knees on either side of me as she tucks her head under my chin. I run my fingers down her back and she hums in contentment.

“Daddy loves you very much, pretty girl, he’s so proud of you. His pretty girl.” I say and she nestles further into my chest. She’s fast asleep in the next ten minutes, snoring lightly. I don’t remember dozing off, but I’m awoken a few hours later by Y/N shifting in my lap. She pushes off my chest, blinking a few times. “Hey there, pretty girl, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” She says, eyes clear and I could sigh in relief. “Did I slip under?”

“Yeah, you did. It’s okay. I figured you probably got overwhelmed, am I correct?”

“Yes, but not overwhelmed in a bad way. I didn’t slip because I was scared.”

“I know, baby. I love you.” Her eyes light up.

“I love you too.”

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x reid x reader

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

COMFORT- M. MURDOCK

Pairing: Boyfriend! Matt x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 850

Summary: matt helps comfort you during a panic attack

Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, sensory issues, mentions of getting sick, praise, lots of fluff

Notes: i wrote this while having airport/ airplane anxiety this morning, as i woke up bright n early so i had a lot of time to think. then my flight got cancelled, rebooked, then cancelled again. so im stuck here till tomorrow :) (i want to cry. also airport wifi sucks so bad btw)

He could hear your heartbeat miles away. 

Fast. 

Thrumming so hard it was as if it was a motor engine, constantly revving but instead of speeding off into the night- it sputtered. 

Your breaths were fast. Irregular. Panting raggedly, as if you were a dog.

 Hands clutched to your knees, a steady creaking against the old hardwood as you rocked yourself in a ball on the floor. 

The two of you left for the airport in less than an hour. Matt had taken care of all the flights, him and Foggy triple-checking everything to make sure everything was booked, purchased and on time. Luggage was packed for your little getaway planned in Central America, zipped up tightly waiting by the door. 

But you remained put on the floor, feeling the grooves of your long nails dig into your skin, pinching little crescent moon shapes as your lungs struggled for air. 

“Sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, shaking the rain from his coat off as he hung it up to dry. 

No response. 

Your tongue felt like millions of weights were pulling it down, inflaming it so you were unable to speak. Nothing but dry saliva coated your mouth like a thick paste. 

“What's going on love? Can you explain how you’re feeling?”

 He knew there was no point asking whether or not you were okay when clearly- you weren't. You were having a panic attack, something that you got very often. Changes in your routine tended to set it off, or things like big crowds or loud noises. 

Matt knew your mind was racing with endless possibilities of what could go wrong. You had expressed them to him last week. 

What if we miss our flight? Or there is too many people and I’m trapped? Or I feel sick and have nowhere to go? Matthew what if our flight gets cancelled? Or the gates? There's going to be so many people there, all so stressed and non-self aware. 

Something was wrong when you called him Matthew instead of Matty. That was always the first indicator he picked up on.

 “‘m just anxious.” you whispered softly, voice low and rough as if you had just discovered you could talk for the first time. He softly padded over to a window, opening it just a smidge so fresh air could sneak through the crack, and the sound of the rain pattering against the glass was amplified.

 “Can I touch you sweetheart?” he asked politely, crouching down next to you. 

You nodded. 

Warmth spread through your body as his large arms wrapped around your body, shielding you from the outside world. “Okay. Let's just breathe together okay? Just follow with me.” 

He took a deep inhale through his nose, to which you shakily followed. A deep exhale escaped from your lips as you followed the rise and fall of his chest, breathing in his comforting smell as your fingers made there way to twist and tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

 “Thats it, atta girl. You're doing such a good job!” he praised, letting you cling to him as you slowed down your breathing- expanding your lungs again. 

“We’re going to take this one step at a time okay? It’s going to be okay, I’m never going to leave your side. Security is the scary part. Then we just wait in a quiet part until we get on the plane. And it’s just a two hour flight, and you've done much longer car rides than that.” 

“But what if I’m sick?” you asked timidly. 

“Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. We’ll scout out all the  washrooms and there is one on the plane sweetheart. I’ll hold your hair back I promise.” he joked, making you sniffle as you giggled. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay.”

 “Good. Let’s just get some water into you, and we can get your headphones and fuzzy sweater for you to wear. It’s going to be just fine angel.” he kissed the top of your forehead, stroking your cheeks with his thumb, the callouses on the flesh of his fingertips bringing you a sense of comfort. 

You watched through slightly clouded vision as he swiftly went over to pour you some water from the Britta you nagged him to buy, and you heard the pills rattle from the bottle as he dropped a gravol or two in his hand. 

“I’m tired.” you murmured. Your thumbs were bleeding, and you felt the sticky blood smear as you tried to stop it. 

“I know baby. You can sleep soon. I promise.” he assured, coaxing water down to quell your thirstiness as you swallowed the ginger pill.

 “I need my headphones.” you said, attempting to find your balance as you wobbled up to your feet. 

“I have them here sweetheart.” he smiled, grabbing them from the luggage- leaving them out for you just in case. Siding them over your head, the world was slightly muffled and you exhaled. 

It was quiet. It would be quiet. And you could do this. 

“Ready?” he asked. “Ready.”

 “Good, cause we have sunshine and margaritas waiting for us.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #daredevil fluff #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #charlie cox

[wackapedia]

The Lady Of Devon

Sihtric x Reader, Finan x Reader Summary: You are a daughter of the ealdorman of Devon, you bothered Uhtred to let you join his band of merry fighters, and you live the best months of your life. Warnings: none, sad times Wordcount: 1,382

“Think about it, Sihtric, you don’t have to pay a girl if she truly loves you, eh?” You gave the Dane a raised eyebrow when he asked to borrow a few coins from you. He looks down at his ale and sighs, not wanting to hear your reprimands. “If you’re refusing me, then just say it! I don’t need to hear your sermon.” He slams his tankard against the table, startling you and Finan, sitting side by side. It is clear to the both of you that Sihtric has had enough drinks for tonight, evident in his slurred tone and rude approach.

“Maybe we should sober up a bit…” Finan reaches over to retrieve the Dane’s ale, swapping it with a mug of water, “.. before we say something we regret, aye?” “No!” Sihtric keeps his ale close to his chest. “What is she even doing here?” He glares at you, tucked in a corner of the booth. “Daughter of an ealdorman who’s done nothing significant, so now you’re pretending to be a warrior so you could be lady of Devon, when all you do is flirt with me and give me unsolicited advice?!” Sihtric raises his voice, loud enough to silence half the alehouse and turn their eyes on your booth. Finan clamps the dane’s mouth under his palm, but the damage has been done. He has said what he wanted to say. “Excuse me…” You mutter under your breath as you make your way out of the crowded room while Uhtred walks in with a couple more drinks in his hand. “Check your manners, boy.” Finan points an accusing finger at the younger Dane before leaving him with his lord as the Irishman follows you out. “I’m sorry about Sihtric, he’s just drunk and frustrated…” Finan knocks at your door, hoping to comfort you. “It’s not your doing.” You try to keep your voice stable, hiding the fact that you are crying. “What he said was true anyway…” The door creaks open, and you see the Irishman’s kind eyes searching your watery ones. “Oh, y/n..” His heart breaks as he steps in, taking in your appearance. No man should ever let you cry. “What he said was mean..” “But it’s true.” You sob into his broad chest, allowing yourself to drown in his warmth. “I’ve proven myself useless to my people; I ran away from my responsibilities; and I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him!” Everything Sihtric has accused you of is true. When your younger brother was named heir, Uhtred and his men happened to be passing by your hometown. The morning after the witan, you ran away and followed (more like bothered) Uthred until he accepted. Over the course of eight months, the exiled lord of Bebbanburg and his men treated you like family. In those months, between battles, shield walls, and Coccham, you found yourself gravitating toward Sihtric, that kind and mysterious Dane who was so fierce in battle, yet so nice, gentle, and funny when he was hanging out. You were certain he has noticed how often you prefer to sit next to him, set your bed roll next to his when you’re camping, and check on him during battles. Finan thinks Sihtric should be grateful to have your attention. It’s not everyday you have a beautiful, young, and gentle lady care for you. Unfortunately, the young Dane sets his sights on that one woman from the brothel who was very obviously ripping him off all his coin, even getting into bar fights because of her. You cry yourself to sleep that night, and Finan ever so kindly stays with you, sitting on the floor and resting his head at the edge of the bed. In the morning, Finan groans at the pain shooting up his neck from sleeping in an awkward position. Sunlight beams through the open windows of the lodge, brightly illuminating the room and the empty bed. His eyes immediately darted through where your belongings were supposed to be, only to find them void of your riding boots and your bag. The Irishman rushes out of the lodge, clocking Sihtric, who was on the way up to your room. “Is she awake?” He asks, bringing a bunch of flowers, probably for you. Finan was still too angry to give him an answer, and he was in a hurry to check the stables. This time he comes across his lord Uhtred, hastily marching back to the inn. “Where is y/n?” He bellows as Finan approaches. “Her horse is gone!” Finan snaps into action and mounts his horse, beckoning it to ride fast to catch you on your way back home. The sound of distant hoofbeats startles you on your way home. You prayed that whoever was on the way would not bring danger. “Y/n!” Finan yells as soon as he sees you miles ahead in an open field. You pull your horse to a stop as the Irishman catches up. “Y/n, If I have offended you, I apologize…” Finan sighs, still catching his breath. “You have not offended me, dear Finan.” You gave him a sad smile. “I have wasted enough of my time rebelling against my family. "It’s time for me to go home.” Finan is at a loss for words. “Please extend my gratitude to Lord Uhtred,” You begin to tear up. “And to every man and woman in Coccham. I’ve never felt so at home during my brief stay there,” You try to hold down a sob. Finan wishes to unmount his horse and take you in his arms, to tell you how loved you are, and to express all the love he’s ready to give you. “I thank you, Finan. For everything.” There was pain in your eyes as you said your thanks. You forced a smile for him, and somehow it felt like a goodbye. The Irishman watches you fade east, toward your home. Maybe your father would reconsider and appoint you as heir to Devon, or maybe he’ll arrange an advantageous marriage for you, and you’ll live the rest of your days learning to love someone. He hopes you find the happiness you deserve. The happiness he was ready to give, if only you felt the same way for him. A year has passed since your departure from Coccham. Things have become awkward between two of Uhtred’s best fighters. Finan and Sihtric would often have a random lull in their conversation, as if stopping themselves from mentioning a certain ealdorman’s daughter whenever something reminded them of her. Nonetheless, both still treat each other with respect, having each other’s backs on the battlefield and looking after each other as if they were blood brothers. Uhtred watches them and figures he should just avoid asking about her in fear of sparking something distasteful in their mending relationship. The lord of Bebbanburg now feels anxious to deliver the news to his men of King Alfred’s instruction for them to visit Devon and see how the new ealdorman is managing the land. “Where ‘east’, lord?” Sihtric asks as they journey on the road. Uhtred figures he’ll wait until one of them figures out on the way, “East.” He answers. Finan already suspects where they are headed as they move closer to Devon. The gates of the stronghold creak open as their band of ten men arrive. “Welcome to Devon, Lord!” A young man descends the stairs and greets Uhtred. The young man’s eyes shift, looking into every single man’s eyes as if looking for something or someone. Uhtred dismounts from his horse and gives the young ealdorman a firm handshake. And for the first time in almost a year, someone directly refers to you. “Did my sister choose not to come with you?” Your younger brother, now the ealdorman, inquires. Uhtred, in his surprise, twists around his band of men, carefully making eye contact with Finan and then Sihtric, who were both equally giving him an unreadable look. “Isn’t she here, lord?” Sihtric questions, remembering to show respect. “Why would she be? She left to join you a year ago…” The young ealdorman raises a curious eyebrow at the king’s men. “She left us a year ago; we thought she came home!” Finan exclaims, forgetting to show respect. There was an uneasy silence in Devon’s courtyard.

#sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric x reader #finan x reader #Sihtric of Dunholm #sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #finan #finan the agile #uhtred #Uhtred Ragnarsson #uhtred of bebbanburg #the last kingdom #tlk #the last kingdom x reader

[huntersrequiem-if]

The city is bustling, crawling with activity. Sounds upon sounds, voices competing with each other. A thousand of different scents, mortals, food.

 Thousands of feet scurrying towards their destination.

Hell, if you concentrate you can even hear the voices of the merchants in the marketplace rising over each other.

 So different from your forest, your beloved Wyldewood. It has noises, but they are familiar, soothing. Like leaves ruffling in the breeze, joyful birdsong dancing along the plains.

The babbling of the rivers traveling through the forest.

The squelch of a beast ripping its prey apart, blood dripping down its fangs.

You are shaken out of your stupor when a stranger bumps into you, roughly. You growl at them, barely stopping yourself from baring your fangs at them.

They give you a rude gesture, as they continue onwards with an uneven gait.

With a sound of discontent, you drag your hood deeper over your face. Until you are hidden in its shadow, barely two faintly shining eyes.

How embarrassing of you, to be so caught up in your thoughts.

 Right, this alley can no longer shield you. At the mouth of it lies an ever-flowing sea of mortals.

You were waiting for just the right moment to break in. But it seems like it is never coming.

Keeping a hand holding the hood still, you make your way. Shoving some, sidestepping others.

You continue until you are amidst the heart of the crowd. Follow its flow.

Ignoring the way your head is pounding from the cacophony of noises and smells. The voice of the crowd like the angry buzzing of a wasp hive.

Your claws twitch.

At least your eyes are working fine. You search for a glimpse of warm tawny skin, a shock of blonde hair glowing in the sunlight.

Nothing.

...wait. You stop in your tracks. The flow staggers, pushing into your form. The humans curse you as they avoid your prone form. Some ask if you are alright.

You ignore the ceaseless buzzing, focusing on the sweet scent. It reminds you of a summer day.

Warm sunlight on your skin, the sweet aroma of flowers.

 Your teeth sinking into soft skin. Their pulse like the erratic heart of a deer. Their little whimpers, a delight to your ears.

You bound towards it. The other mortals stop if they don't want to be plowed. Others are too oblivious to that.

It guides you in deserted alleyways, busy streets. You dodge and wave between the humans. Until.... there they are. In a less populated corner of the market, they lean against a stone building.

Santana.

The very picture of relaxation. But you know them better. Crossed arms, staring into the moving streets. The subtle tension of their shoulders. The slow taping of their foot.

Dressed in plain clothes, a white tunic and dark brown pants. They might look like a commoner. They are so much more.

Soft tawny skin, tiny freckles much more evident in the sun. Long golden blonde hair, in a messy braid. The wayward strands perfectly framing their face.  Long lashes hiding deep blue eyes.

They haven’t noticed you yet, of course they haven’t. As much as you would like to stay here hidden in the shadows and admire them, you can’t keep them waiting.

Your steps are silent, noiseless. Forty steps away, they tug at their braid. Thirty steps away, they glance at the stalls on the other side of the street. Their foot quickens its pace, each tap producing a small noise.

Fifteen steps away, they lean their head on the wall, closing their eyes.

You wonder how close you will get before they notice you.

Ten steps away. They’re absorbed in their world.

Five steps away.

Extending a hand, only for it to be slapped away when they twirl. Their other hand goes to their belt, grabbing thin air.

Blinking owlishly, they stare at you for a long moment – before their face takes a regretful look. Their eyebrows furrow. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, I got surprised.” A small smile follows. “Can I help you with something?”

It is easier this way, to ignore the bustle of the city. Just focus on their melodious words. Focus on their smell, wildflowers. Their heartbeat, how it had gone from a harried pace to a steady one.

Ignore the stomping feet.

They squint at you, trying to see under your hood. You help them, raising it slightly. Their eyes widen. “…you came?” Their face brightens up, though there is an unsure shine in their eyes, the small twitch of their brows. “I wasn’t sure you would do that.”

You blink, tilting your head. Why would they think that? “You wanted me here.”

They glance away, a small smile on their lips. Clearing their throat, they refocus on you. “I hope the line wasn’t too long.”

You frown. “What line?”

Blinking, their eyes dance between you and the crowd. “The entrance line..?” Their voice is laced with uncertainly, they speak like they’re trying to jog your memory. “The one you have to use to enter the city?”

Oh.

“How did you get here then?”

“I scaled the wall. Of course.” You shrug. It seemed like the easiest way.

They stare at you, wide-eyed. Their mouth, agape – closes and opens like a dying prey. No words come from them. “You did what?!” The words come sharp, piercing your ears.

The other passerby give them a strange look. Santana responds with an embarrassed smile, lowering their voice to a murmur. “What if someone saw you?” They glance around.

You scoff, crossing your arms. “And who could have seen me?” The mere notion laughable. From up the walls, the mortals resembled ants. Glancing at them, as they pass you by – well, you don’t see changing your opinion anytime soon.

Wait. Their heartbeat quickened. Glancing at them, you find them worrying their lip, eyes darting around. Oh, shit, they’re agitated.

You take a breath. Mellow your voice once it comes out like a soothing whisper. Open hands. You approach them, this time trying to make sounds.

Not like you are stalking your prey. No, no. You’re only trying to help a wounded deer.

When you are right in front of them you move your hands near their shoulder. Not touching. They’re already skittish enough. One wrong move and they might bolt.

“Hey, hey. Santana. Look at me,” their eyes dart to your face. You’re not sure what they see - a beast with sharp fangs and glowing eyes? A concerned smile? Whatever they see, it works because their eyes stay glued on yours. “No one saw me. I was very careful.”

They nod, slowly and then with more force. “Yes, yes. You might be right.” A soft sigh exhaled through their lips, they gave you a small smile. A hand gently tugs at their braid. “I suppose I’m just nervous.” The smile wobbles, just the tiniest bit. “I haven’t done this before. Lovers’ Day, I mean.”

You give them one last sweep, stepping back. Their heart is calm again.

Still, their choice of words gives you pause. Haven’t done it before? You open your mouth, ready to – what do you mean? We did it countless times before. Looking into their eyes, glance away. Right, not that Santana. Not yours. You close your mouth.

They caught that. Something in their face changes, is more taut.

A charged moment passes, you ‘admiring’ the market, and they looking at your profile.

The stalls are brightly colored, with a multitude of things for sale. Some you know – pelts, fresh meat. Some you don’t know – silk, gems. All have little symbols, little figurines of the stallkeeper’s chosen deity. Nothing for you, of course not.

They clear their throat, your eyes dragged back to them. “When was the last time you were here?”

Much has changed, that’s for certain. When you were up to the walls you had a change to see the layout of the city. It expanded.

You shrug. “A few centuries at least. It changed.”

Their expression withers, glancing down. “Right. It must been a sight to behold.”

You tilt your head. What have you said now? Why are they upset?

You don’t like seeing them like this. Your tongue licks over your fangs as you think. Ah, something to do might cheer them up. You clear your throat. “Truthfully, I…,” prefer is too strong a word, not with all this damnable noise, “like it more now. It is prettier.” It doesn’t feel satisfactory, but it made them look at you. “You could give me a tour. Show me all the new things added this century.” You try to smile.

They perk up. A hesitant nod follows and they step forwards. They show you their favorite stalls, their favorite places to get food. And to their credit, the scent is enough to make your mouth salivate.

It would been perfect really. If only this damned city would just shut up. It makes your teeth ache, your hands twinging. One swipe and you could shut them up. The humans who bump into you. Into Santana.

The last straw was when someone stepped on Santana’s  foot with enough force to make them yelp.

You growl, lunging toward the human, grabbing them by the collar. Your claws slice through the thin fabric as you bare your teeth towards the fool.

You might’ve taken a bite of them too, if desperate hands didn’t drag you away. Initially you tensed up, ready to destroy the idiot who dared grab you. Still, you relaxed and let yourself dragged away when you recognized Santana’s warm palms.

They have a vice grip on your forearm, hastily retreating from the whispering crowd. Running from shame…?

A dark alley appears soon. They throw the two of you towards it. Their hurried steps slow down only when they reach a dead end.

With a sight, they release your arm and learn on the cool wall. They slide down it, meeting the hard ground.

You do the same. You rub your face. How stupid of you, to get so carried away.

Your ears pick up their heart galloping in their chest.

A few moments, minutes pass. It slows down.

“Did this happen often?” You glance at them, finding them with looking heavenwards.  “With the original me, I mean.” A gulp. “Or former me?” They give a weak laugh, devoid of any joy. “What would they done in my place?”

#owl hooting #hunter's requiem if #interactive fiction #valentines day snippet #beware this is long! #it just ran away from me... #hr: santana #hope you guys like it!

[eyeofhurakana]

Title: “Bouncing Brings Us All Together” Chapter: 2/3 Pairing: Sampo x Reader Reader: Gender Neutral / Nurse at Natasha’s clinic Relationship Level: Acquaintances with unspoken attraction Trust: Moderate Summary: It’s your day off and you want to take the cable car to Overworld. The only issue is that all the seats are taken up, and it’s going to be a long and bumpy ride. However, Sampo seems to have nabbed a seat…  

[Chapter 1]

What a conundrum...

You could give a value without thoroughly thinking about it. It’d definitely save time. But how much would a seat that’s normally free even be worth? Is he really even that attached to it? Would you look silly or immature for saying the wrong thing? 

Sampo has crossed his legs with his gloved hands resting on his knee. He is still grinning from ear to ear with great interest. Emerald green eyes watch with rapt attention. He’s genuinely curious as to what your first offer will be. 

“Tick tock~. This cable car won’t stay here forever, you know,” he reminds you.  

Just as he says that the overhead intercom blares another announcement, “All passengers, please remain seated. The cable car is now en route to OVERWORLD. All passengers, please remain seated. The cable car is now en route to OVERWORLD.”

The pressure is mounting. 

“20 shields!” 

You went with your gut, but the idea of losing twenty shields still feels a bit icky. 

Oh well. So maybe you’ll forgo eating anything in Overworld. But at least your legs won’t suffer myalgia. Plus the live music is free. And no one ever charges to look at flowers. 

Or at least, this is what you tell yourself to cope. 

“Mm… Just 20?” Sampo replies with an unconvinced pout, “You suuuure about that?”

Your mouth falls open slightly. 

Was twenty really not enough? Your eyes search him for any sign of mischief or deceit, but he’s a difficult read. Maybe you could add another five shields… 

The cable car jerks forward. 

Panic sets in.

You want that seat.

“Gah, 40 shields!” 

Sampo looks upwards to the side again, calculating it out in his mind, before shaking his head. 

“Mm, nuh uh.” 

He won’t even accept doubling your previous offer? Ohhhh, Natasha was definitely going to hear about this. Maybe you could even put it through the Wildfire grapevine for Seele to hear too. The fiasco born out of that would definitely teach him.  

“Sampo…” you say with your face burning up a little, “I can’t go any higher than that.” 

“Oh really?” Sampo asks slyly with an arched brow, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you definitely seem to be carrying much more than you’re willing to offer. Isn’t having this seat important to you? Come on~.”

He’s trying to goad you into going higher, but it backfires. Your face turns stern while your hand hovers protectively near where you keep your shields. 

“It seems I won’t be able to afford it then. That’s fine. Enjoy the trip to Overworld,” you say flatly.

It’s too late now anyway. The cable car has already commenced its ascent. Your legs submit to their unwanted responsibility of having to support you at an insufferable thirty-five degree incline for the next few hours. It's a miserable feeling.

One day you might make it up to them… So long as they don’t give out first. 

Time to migrate again.

You weren’t going to stick around here and let Sampo wheedle you into needless spending. 

Of course, it’s not until you seem very set on moving away that the businessman starts showing signs of nervousness.  

“Wait, hang on a second! No need to leave,” he insists urgently. 

Despite his words, you’re still turning your head about for a route to meander through the dense crowd. As he said before, time is ticking. He quickly uncrosses his legs, leaning forward to grab your wrist. His large gloved hand engulfs it completely, surprising you. 

What else could such big strong hands do? 

Nope. No, no. You’re not going there. 

This is a tactical retreat in progress. 

“Heeeey! What’s the hurry?” Sampo asks with a slight waver in his voice. 

When he notices your grim expression, his face softens almost immediately.  

“I… haven’t offended you, have I? If I have, do let me know. I can’t stand the thought of displeasing a custo- Er, friend.”

You eye him warily for a moment. 

Naturally, he uses the moment to give you his trademark sad puppy eyes. If you give it time, he might even throw in a whimper or two. 

Despite the shamelessness of his gesture, the charged feelings inside your chest dissipate at the sight. It’s strange. You can’t stay mad at him. You even realize that you might be overreacting. 

After all, it’s just a seat. Right?

No. It’s not.

Time to turn the tables.

“Friend, huh?” you reply with light skepticism as you pull your wrist back to fold your arms, “I guess I must be your least favorite friend then.” 

He gasps back at you as though you uttered the largest fallacy in all of Belobog. 

“Whaaaat? Of course not! What would ever make you think that? Did someone tell you that? I want their name. How dare they tell my dearest friend such lies. Your companionship is invaluable to me. I could never imagine myself without it. If that were to happen, then I would be a poor man indeed. So do tell me who put this slander in your head. I will do my utmost to set the record straight,” he tells you with so many theatric tones and gestures that you can’t help but crack a bit of a smile.  

You shake your head at him. What a goofball. 

“Well, no one else said anything to me… Though you did,” you reply with a pointed look.   

“Wha… Me? What did I do?” 

He’s genuinely confused. You can practically see him scrolling in his own mind, recounting every word that was said during the conversation. His eyes flit side to side as he struggles to find where he went wrong. "Wait, was it the-? No... You wouldn't be upset at that... Then..." he murmurs both to himself and a bit toward you. You could leave him like this... 

But that would be mean. 

Besides… you kind of still really wanted that seat.  Though you would have to play a little dirty.

“Really, Sampo? Not a single discount offer? Good friends always offer sweet discounts,” you say, falling in with the theatrical mood, “Not to mention that I’m a nurse. No discounts for even my noble line of work? You must think so lowly of me… To think that all those times I helped patch you up back when you were too scared of Natasha would end up meaning so little to you.” 

You make a mock sniff.

Since the cable car is relatively stuffed to the brim with people, it’s not hard for folks standing right next to you to overhear the conversation. Barely anyone is talking save for a few hushed voices. Most people have their eyes either out the windows or down to the floor in silence. However, at your sudden rise in voice, a few heads start to turn with interest. 

The thoughts scurrying through their minds are obvious. Is that blue-haired scoundrel antagonizing that poor nurse? Why doesn’t he simply give up the seat? Do they know each other? Are they arguing?    

Sampo sits there beneath a deluge of prying eyes. His smile is getting strained, yet his eyes shine with… happiness? 

Are you missing something? 

You’re clearly causing a scene. Why is he so happy about it? 

Oh no… 

“You knooow, you could have always just used the free option,” he offers teasingly as if such an option had been available the entire time, “We are good friends, after all. Honestly, I’m so perplexed as to why you didn’t just pick that in the first place. It’s always available to you.” 

“Free option?” you parrot in disbelief only to feel the cable car jerk forward yet again.

However, this time, it’s the hardest you’ve ever felt. It takes everyone in the car by utter surprise. Everything happens so fast that you can’t react in time. You get thrown forward into Sampo with a yelp. 

Without any delay, Sampo reaches up and firmly catches you by the elbow and hip before you could faceplant into the solid steel wall above him. Your knee finds purchase on the front of his seat, narrowly avoiding his family jewels. A few others aren’t so lucky as several folks knock into one another while others fall completely. 

It’s chaos. 

The once hushed cabin is suddenly abuzz with activity. 

You even manage to catch a glimpse of a bit of smoked olm rolling helplessly across the floor. Someone’s black coffee managed to spill adding yet one more unnecessary scent to the cabin. Long dark streaks travel down the floor and onto people's shoes. Even some money fell to the floor, yet remarkably not a single soul made an effort to snatch it.   

No, the people of Underworld are a hearty bunch as they help one another back up with surprised smiles and relieved laughter.  

Total strangers become sudden acquaintances and the cabin becomes much more chatty. Parents pull on their children, suddenly very grateful to have them safe and sound. People that would have never exchanged words are now exchanging names and experiences.   

“You all right?” Sampo’s voice cuts through your frazzled thoughts. 

You’re still trembling a little from the fright of that sudden lurch. 

That’s never happened before. 

“Almost knocked your head there. What a shame that would have been. A bruise on that pretty little head of yours? No way. Not on my watch,” he says protectively with a proud grin while helping steady you.

He even deepens his voice a little more to really give off the ‘noble protector’ vibe. You wonder if this is his attempt at a Gepard Landau impression. 

A tiny laugh escapes you. Your shaking ceases as you calm down. He’s such a clown, but you're grateful for it. What could have been a terrible situation ends up becoming nothing more than a funny mishap. 

You instinctively grip his forearms to get your feet back on the dusty metal floor while avoiding the still-rolling olm. Heat resonates from his bare skin and into your cold fingers. His whole body must be a bit of a furnace, constantly exuding warmth. He must make for a great personal heater on chilly nights… 

Quickly, you squash that blasphemous thought. 

He just saved you from a concussion. No need to objectify the man. 

Though you wonder if he’d mind…  

“I’m good. Thanks for the assist. I rather not have my first order of business in Overworld today become an emergency visit to the local hospital or dentist.” 

Sampo chuckles back at you, that charming smile of his growing ever more powerful. 

You then recall what he had mentioned before.

“Hey, I feel like I might regret asking… but I’m gonna do it anyway. So what’s the free option?” 

His whole face suddenly lights up. 

It appears he nearly forgot too. 

“I’m so glad you finally asked! You see… I realized there was a way for us both to win in this scenario. You know, since we’re good friends and all.”

Why does he keep saying it like that?  

“Being?” you ask while still harboring a hint of skepticism.

“Cue the drum roll!” he says excitedly while pretending to do air drums, making the sound with his mouth, before suddenly pointing his imaginary drum sticks at you, “We share it!”  What?

You eye him as if you watched his brain literally dislodge itself from his skull in order to go into witness protection. Or was that your brain? 

Nonetheless, this is beyond ridiculous. But in a way, did you really expect much different?  

“...Share how?” you ask as you feel your shins already burning from the neverending incline, “You take up nearly the whole-”   

Sampo then pats his lap all too welcomingly. 

"Well?" he asks with a playful smirk.

"You know there's no better deal than this..."

AN: *cackles* Yes... Yesssss...

Ring-a-ding-ding~! New chapter!

@hearts4saebyeok

#sampo #sampo koski #sampo simping #hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #hsr fluff #hsr fic #hsr x reader #I'm a mess #hurakana fic #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader

[astheskycries]

Accepted- 6

Planning a wedding with the man she loves and working small jobs with SHIELD seems like an easy task, but now that Jonathan is dead, Maggie and Steve have to continue tracking down HYDRA and cleaning up the mess left behind- which is easier said than done when the Winter Soldier has returned.

1 2 3 4 5

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Bucky shifts a bit, feeling a bit like a caged animal in his suit but grateful they allowed him his metal prosthetic, at least being able to use both hands again and doodle on the spare memo pad Tony’s lawyers gave him to ease his nerves. “How much longer until they’re ready?”

“Soon, White Wolf,” T’Challa smiles a bit, watching Bucky’s nervous pacing in the hall. Though they’ve already done their openings, the recess the prosecution requested has done nothing to ease Bucky’s nerves. “I’m sure you’ll do well. Between Tony and me, you have the best defense team money can buy.” He glances at his watch. “The girls should be on their mission by now; they will let you know once they find something.”

“You also have a reason, Buck.” Steve steps in to block his best friends’ path, squeezing his shoulder and not even reacting to T’Challa’s confirmation. “What happened to you, what you did… That wasn’t you.”

Bucky’s silent for a moment, looking past Steve’s shoulder to see Ross’s smirk as he heads back to the stand. “But I did it.”

…

“Damn it!” I curse, shooting into gunfire from where I was hiding behind the metal shelves. “Nat, Wanda, it’s an ambush. I need backup on the lower floor, I already have the data, but it won’t mean a damn thing if we don’t make it out of here.”

Red light swirls, and I hear cries of pain before it falls silent again. “I think I’ve subdued most of them,” Wanda grabs my hand, helping me back to my feet. “I’m grabbing a few more files before we go, in case not everything is in the hard drive. Between Stark and Shuri we should be able to-”

“Move!” I shove her hard, gasping out as pain floods my senses, making me stumble back and grip my side. I feel something warm and wet, and I wince as the added pressure only makes the pain throb. I glance down to see more pooling between my fingers, and I curse, gripping the shelf as Wanda knocks them out with her magic. “Fuck, the drive…”

Wanda uses her powers to help close the gash, using her other hand to grab the drive from my pocket. “It’s fine, what you should be worried about is you.” She uses her powers to help me walk, keeping her eyes out for more. “Maggie is hit, we need to retreat to the van and stop the bleeding.”

“FRIDAY, get Tony and send a ride,” I manage, wincing as I try to focus through the constant throbbing and feeling more and more dizzy as the seconds pass- a bad sign, but not one I want to distract from the goal. “The safe house is likely compromised if we were ambushed.”

“I’m on it,” Natasha says calmly, though I hear a strangled scream from her side of the comm.- thankfully not hers. “Just make it to the van, we’ll get you help.”

I nod weakly as the dizziness becomes harder to ignore, releasing a trembling breath when Wanda’s magic releases me and I collapse onto the seat, unable to do anything but try desperately to hold on. “Steve…”

Wanda and Nat share a look, Natasha looking uncharacteristically concerned as she works the controls. “Message him, FRIDAY. He should know the mission was compromised.”

…

“Your crimes against America, the world, are insurmountable.” Ross’ voice carries across the crowded room, full of reporters and families of known victims of the Winter Soldier. “You’ve single handedly caused a majority of the world’s most influential crimes, all at the hands of HYDRA.”

Bucky adjusts in his seat at the stand, looking uncomfortable. “I did,” He swallows, unable to look away from families with tears in their eyes. “I did, and I remember all of them.” The jury whispers amongst themselves, and he continues. “I remember them all because I relive them over and over again.” He closes his eyes when he hears the break in his voice, thinking of Howard’s stunned face. “Every night, I just see their faces… It’s gotten worse since I remembered. I know how out of control I felt. I remember feeling helpless, like I was watching someone else hurting everyone around me. Then the pain of being frozen back up like a piece of meat,” Bucky shakes his head, swallowing but determined to be as strong as he can. “I hated it. I hated thinking or feeling, because it hurt too much. It hurt to think about who I killed, what I left behind, if someone had a wife or kids they wouldn’t see again. And I- I tried to run, tried to wrap my head around what I did and make amends by staying away from everyone.” 

“And you ran, instead of facing the consequences.” Ross shakes his head. “You ran because you knew you were guilty.”

“I am guilty.” Bucky watches Steve shift in his seat, the king placing a hand on the blond’s shoulder to keep him under control- the Steve he knows well. “I ran because I needed time to understand what happened in the gaps they iced me, and I wanted- needed- to understand the crimes I committed so I could work on atoning for them. I don’t deserve to be treated differently from anybody else.”

“Your Honor, the jury has reached a decision.” A voice from the stands calls, rising with a sheet of paper in his hands. “We do not need further time to evaluate.”

“Your honor, I’d like to say something,” Bucky clears his throat nervously, but he forces himself to make eye contact with everyone who was related to a victim- to someone he hurt or killed. “No matter what these results are… I want to apologize. To the families and friends of those I- I made suffer under HYDRA. It’s not enough, and it never will be, but I am truly sorry for what I did and I will always try to atone for what I did. Your family and friends didn’t deserve what was done to them, and I take full responsibility for what I did as the Winter Soldier.”

The judge clears his throat, the jury’s paper in his hand. “The findings of this court and jury are as follows… James Buchanan Barnes is hereby cleared of all charges, and pardoned for his war crimes under the torture and exploitation of HYDRA.”

Bucky blinks back tears, seeing the room erupt with cheers and questions, but what makes his tears fall is the sight of the family and friends standing and clapping, nodding to him in at best acknowledgement and acceptance of HYDRA’s influence on his acts. Ross looks peeved, but says nothing as he returns to his sear and Bucky is guided through the exit by security, T’Challa and Steve on each side as they ignore the flashes of cameras and questions the press is shouting at him.

For better or for worse, Bucky Barnes is a free man.

…

“How long do we have until we’re back at the safe house?” I wince at the sharpness in Wanda’s tone, her using some of her powers to help keep the wrap secure on my side. “I can only do so much before she’ll need medical attention.”

Natasha curses in Russian, and I feel the engine push as she speeds up, the rough terrain hard on the large gash on my side. “We’ll be there any minute, I can stitch her up before Tony’s jet gets here.” She curses again as the van hits a hard bump, making a strangled noise escape my lips where I’ve tried to be silent. “FRIDAY, have Tony speed up the jet and contact Steve. We need him home.”

“Captain Rogers has not answered any messages since 3pm,” The AI chirps, and if I didn’t know better I’d think she sounded apologetic. “Would you like me to contact King T’Challa?”

“No,” I grind, tensing as I try to fight through the wave of pain. “If he’s not answering it’s because he’s busy.”

Nat frowns, not bothering to hide the disapproval on her face. “Maggie…”

“Right now I care more about not bleeding out,” I manage weakly, crying out a bit when we hit another bump and nearly blacking out. “Nat-”

“Damn it,” Nat curses, stopping and jerking the gear into park as she nearly leaps over the seat. “Wanda, I need you on standby. We don’t have much time, I need to- Maggie, stay awake! FRIDAY, get Bruce and Tony on the line!”

It’s too late; the darkness sweeps over me, and I finally rest in sweet relief from the pain.

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[angelicyouth]

Youth ; Chapter 5

⇢ pairing: kenny mccormick x marsh!reader x craig tucker

⇢ synopsis: ❝Growing up with the boys as the sole girl of the group, it was only natural for them to grow protective over their pseudo-little sister as the years went by.❞

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

Loud cheering surrounds the packed football stadium, excitement and suspense charging the air. The energy exuded by the crowd is highly infectious as I catch even myself heavily invested in the game playing out in front of me, despite having no interest in the sport. The cold weather nips at my skin, stinging, but I don’t feel it despite the lack of coverage my cheer attire provides. This could be attributed to the constant movement of the cheer routines I enthusiastically perform. When I can afford to, I cheerily wave at my proud mom as my dad embarrassingly calls out to me, recording my half-time performance and my brother’s touchdown. I hope dad doesn’t get kicked out for being too drunk or for getting into a fight, I silently muse to myself.

“Come on, South Park, green and white! Let’s go cows, fight, fight, fight!”

Green and white pom poms get ruffled in the air by both of my hands as I muster up all of my strength, yelling words of encouragement for my boys with all the might I can conjure up in my body. My throat burns from my unyielding support yet I don’t relent, giving my all in supporting them. My adrenaline courses through my entire being in a mixture of excitement and anxiety, wincing at the tackles that play out in front of me.

It’s not a secret that football is among one of the most dangerous sports. This could all be attributed to the intensity, speed, and physical nature of the game. Due to this, players are prone to receiving injuries from the opposing teams. Players succumb to a range of the aforementioned, from fractures to ligament tears.

So when player #13 delivers a head-first tackle, I forcibly keep my feet rooted to the artificial surface of the field while a few team mates check up on the fallen player. The sickening crack echoes throughout the field, the sound so defined despite being so far away from me and the screaming crowd. Anxiety slowly creeps up as I wait for him to stand up because he has to, they always do.

But then, everyone is frantically yelling for medical assistance. I watch the scene unfold before me as if in slow motion, sound becoming devoid until the sounds of my rapidly increasing breaths is all I can hear. Medical personnel from both teams rush out into the field, my fellow cheerleaders have their hands to their mouths and tears spilling from their eyes. The faces of the girls drain of color and there’s a ringing in my ears.

No. No, no, no.

Don’t do this to me, please don’t do this to me.

Please.

The girls begin to surround me, trying to shield me away from the scene. I don’t let them, pushing their hands away from me. A pair of shaking hands then grab either side of my face, forcing me to look at my mom. She’s saying something to me, cheeks wet and her face utterly distraught. I can’t hear her and she decides to give up at my lack of a response, pulling me into a tight hug. My arms hang loosely by my sides as I look over her shoulder, disbelieving eyes back on the field.

My chest feels so tight and my knees begin to buckle under my weight until they can’t bear to support me any longer. My mom goes down with me in an attempt to desperately provide any sort of protection to the event unfolding, and my hands finally shoot up to find any type of purchase until I’m grasping fistfuls of her sweater. Someone’s yelling. The bloodcurdling type, full of anguish and pain. Raw and full of emotions—despair and grief.

“KENNY!”

Ah, it’s coming from me.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Hey, I wonder if there’s a way we could return back in time?” I softly say to the resting blonde in front of me. My back lays against the bark of the magnificently tall tree resting behind me as the blonde boy peacefully rests his head onto the solace of my thighs.  

I comb my fingers through strands of silky, sunlit waves. The warm light reflects off of his head and blesses it until it becomes white-spun locks. I gently uproot flowers I find in the surrounding area of our leisure, weaving the delicate beauties into the valley of his soft blonde hair. A peaceful smile lies tranquilly on his handsome face.

“It’d be nice if we could… When we were younger without worries. Our only care in the world would be Cartman and getting back home before night falls so our parents don’t get worried.” I softly speak, a gentle smile decorating my face at the moment of intimacy.

“Hey, do you hear me? Why aren’t you answering?” I giggle, lightly nudging the resting teen in jest.

My lips slightly begin to drop in discouragement at the deafening silence. “... Hey, don’t ignore me. Why’re you so silent? Open your eyes.”  

Frustration begins to mount and my brows become furrowed. I unconsciously begin to clench on the flowers in my possession, delicate hues of light yellows and whites begin to sprinkle onto the vibrant green grass below us. “I said, open your eyes! Why aren’t you answering me?”

Twin trails of tears begin to make their presence known on my cheeks, my shoulders begin to shudder. “Why? Why? Why…”

“Why did you leave me?” My hands shoot up in tense fists as I aggressively begin to scrub at my eyes. Stems of long green begin to droop in my possession. “Why are you being so cruel? Hey, answer me!”

I sob and I hiccup, desperately wiping and wiping at tender, stinging cheeks yet no one answers any of my calls.

“Open your eyes, please. Don’t leave me alone! Please!” My body shudders in its anguish. Why won’t the boy in front of me wake up?

I relinquish. Maybe I’m asking for too much, my brother has always said I was a brat. “Your voice... Just let me hear it one more time! What am I supposed to do without you, Ken? I have no idea. So don’t go away, please. I’m begging you.”

Despite the evidence of wet grief marring my face, I force myself to push aside my mounting hysteria and offer him a wobbly smile when I’m still left without an answer. I pinch both of my cheeks to help exaggerate a happy expression on my face. “Look, Ken! I promise I’m not upset anymore. So, please? Please look at me?”

“... Please tell me I’m not as forgettable as your silence is making me feel.” My head hangs low in defeat, droplets of salty tears softly hit the blonde’s cheeks from his position below me.

“… I wish we had more time together. You weren’t supposed to leave me. You promised me, remember? That you’d always be there for me..? Always and forever, right?” I quietly speak into the still silent forest. What was once an area of tranquil peace now became one of oppressing silence. My hand gently rests itself onto the still silent blonde’s shirt, lightly clutching the soft material. Lower and lower, my head slowly goes until my forehead softly rests against his.

I hiccup into the hush of the air, the trees and flowers the only witnesses to my desperate pleas. I gasp for breath as I wail, my crying becomes vocal as my throat strains to express my anguish. I sob and I sob, but still no one responds.

I feel disoriented. And no amount of kindness and love that surrounds me can make up for the one that was taken. Condolences, they tell me. What the fuck does that even mean?

Apologies.

I’m sorry.  

Is an apology equivalent to the last breath he drew, to the last words we exchanged, to the last time we touched? The sterile white of the hospital room, my hands clenched around non-responsive digits. The monitor behind me loudly beeping, cutting through the crying of everyone in the room.

The thought of an afterlife, even a pleasant one, isn't universally comforting to me. People often think it is, but that’s so far from the truth. Even if we are just talking about pleasant afterlives.

Because if there is an afterlife, that means Kenny would be all by himself.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The shrill sound of an alarm disrupts my sleep until a groan can be heard, silence following the soft thud that cuts off the piercing sound. It’s quiet for a moment until I hear the gentle rustling of the sheets below me, a leg that was messily thrown over my stomach during the night relinquishes its heavy weight and finally provides me relief.

“Wake up.” The sleep laced voice of my brother says, deep and hoarse from hours of rest.

I lightly flutter my eyes open, soft eyelashes kissing my cheeks as I force myself awake. Stan is sitting up and lazily scratching his side with his eyes still closed, raven locks of hair rest messily on his head. The faint sound of a bird calls out and I feel the warm rays of sunshine on my face, peeking through the window.

“Are you okay?” A large hand rests itself on the side of my face as my eyes temporarily seek refuge behind my lids, fighting the last dredges of sleep.

I force them open again to see a look of concern crossing my brother’s features, eyebrows furrowed. His thumb swipes at my cheeks and it’s then that I realize that I was crying in my sleep, fresh tracks still adorn my face.

“Huh? Oh.” I’m confused at the cause as every image of last night’s dream is quickly forgotten upon waking up. I shrug and raise my arms above my head, stretching stiff limbs as a yawn escapes my mouth. My brother snorts at my casual dismissal.

“Why’d I sleep here last night?” I disinterestedly question, pulling out my phone to lazily scroll through Coonstagram until I can muster up enough strength to get ready for the day. I smirk as I tap a like onto Clyde’s photo, a post of him complaining. He stepped on his dog, Rex’s, poop and pouts at the camera in a display of fake crying. He poses next to the pile of shit. What an idiot.

“Hmm? I don’t know. I forgot.” The rustling of fabric disturbs the tranquil silence of the morning air as Stan rummages through his closet.

“... Huh.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

On our snowy trek to the bus stop, my brother intertwines his longer digits with mine and puts our interlocking hands into his hoodie’s pocket. Kyle is the only one there and I force my way next to the teen, hugging his arm to my chest so that I can be squished in between warmth.

“What’s wrong, N/N?” The ushanka wearing teen gently asks me when he notices I haven’t said a word upon arrival. I haven’t contributed to the conversation despite the boys on either side of me talking about the new Chinpokomon game.

I feel awfully clingy today for a reason unknown and instead of answering, I just bury my face into the side of the questioning teen’s arm. His unoccupied hand comes up, lightly guiding my head to his chest instead as he pulls me into a comforting hug. I don’t bother going out of the warm embrace even when Cartman noisily makes his arrival, even when he starts pestering Kyle and Stan for the answers to yesterday’s math homework.

“What’s wrong with ugoo? It’s too early to be a lame-o pussy.” The larger boy bitterly mumbles when they refuse to assist him.

My brother smoothes a thumb over mine in the grip he still has on my hand, as Kyle shoves away Cartman from getting any closer to sneaking a look at my hidden face.

“Shut the fuck up, fatass. It’s too early to be eating twice your weight in food but we can all see that the time of the day didn’t stop you.”

“Aye!” Cartman exclaims as he hurriedly rushes to wipe off the crumbs surrounding his loud mouth, the boys snickering.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The chattering of multiple teens pervades the classroom, friends catching up with one another despite seeing each other just yesterday. I’m seated at my desk in homeroom, the boys occupying the seats surrounding me. They’re either seated like me or leaning against occupied desks to be closer to one another as we wait for the first bell to ring.

“Y/N? Hellooo? Earth to dumb bitch?” Butters comes to my defense, punching Cartman on the arm with furrowed brows and a pout on his face.

“Shut the fuck up, fatass!”

“Hmm? Sorry. I don’t think I was listening.” I apologetically look up to see all of the boy's eyes warily watching me in concern, not having realized that my occupied thoughts distracted me from the conversation.

“You okay, babe? You’ve been off this whole morning.” Clyde says from his perch above my head, his arms draped over my shoulders as he hugs me from behind my seated position. His chin digs into my hair after every word and I lightly pinch his side to show him that I’m fine, his shrill screech filling the air.

The door opens to reveal the latest newcomer joining the class and our heads unconsciously move in synchronization to see who it is. A boyish smile adorns the handsome blonde’s face as he takes his time crossing the classroom to meet us, a hand embarrassedly scratching the back of his head for missing the bus.

Seeing him feels like all of the air is knocked out of me at once, my chest tightening and my breathing rapidly picks up pace. It feels like I forgot something and frustration quickly mounts as I try to desperately rack my brain for what it could be. It feels important, and I think back on the tears staining my cheeks when I woke up and my wandering thoughts all of this morning. My eyebrows furrow together, desperately willing myself to please, just remember.

The sickening crack echoing throughout the football field.

My raw throat as I cry myself to anguish in a clearing of flowers.

Tears start to blur my vision, finally breaking out of the confines of confused eyes and overflowing down my cheeks when my shoulders begin to shake. It’s the reason why I’ve been seeking the warmth of the boys all morning, unconsciously demanding physical touch as a reminder that yes, they’re actually here with me.

My hands begin to tremble and I clumsily rip myself out of the arms surrounding me. Shaking legs heft my trembling body up, using my desk as support when the blonde is only a few feet away from us now.

“Kenny!” I sob, closing the distance between us in haste and throwing myself onto him as his arms reflexively catch me.

“Good morning, Princess. Do I have to be late all the time to get a greeting like this?” He cheekily smiles as he looks down at me, his arms sneaking their way around my waist. His face slowly drops, eyebrows creasing when he holds my shuddering body and notices the sobs wracking through me.

I cry into his chest, tightening my arms around his shoulders as he shoots a look of confusion and worry at the boys. They mirror his expression and are about to come over to us but the bell rings and Kenny hastily decides to guide my body out the door before the teacher can make it to the classroom.

In the empty hallways, large hands lightly place themselves on the back of my thighs and I take that as a cue to jump. Muscular arms catch me, wrapping themselves around me as I burrow my face into the crook of the blonde’s neck. I continue to hiccup until I feel cold air hit my body and I tighten my hold on the blonde for warmth. His back hits a wall, sliding down until he’s seated on asphalt with me on his lap.

I open my eyes and realize that we’re at the back of the school, outside near the loading bay and parking lot that the goth kids have claimed as their own. Larger hands delicately wipe away my tears as I start to calm down, the light pressure of a soft kiss on my head.

Kenny softly mumbles into my hair, “What’s wrong, Princess?”

I’m quiet as my hiccups start to die down, “I don’t know.”

“... You don’t know?” I shake my head, lifting myself away from the crook of his neck. My hands gently settle themselves onto the blonde’s cheeks as I scan his face.

Soft azure eyes watch me, patiently waiting for me to speak. His arms curl around the back of my waist and I softly mutter, “I don’t get it…”

“Hmm?” The blonde gently probes, his hands tucking loose strands of hair away from sticky cheeks behind my ears.

“I don’t really remember but I think I had a nightmare… I think I saw you dying, Ken. During a football game…But it all felt so real…” I softly confess looking away, my eyebrows furrowed as I try to recall the lingering traces of faint memories I still have. The large hand at my cheek stills at their task, deep blue orbs widening.

“W-what?” His voice cracks and my eyes find their way back to the blonde.

We stare at each other before the boy clenches his eyes shut, remnants of tears leak out of the corner and onto his cheeks. My eyes widen in alarm before a hand guides my head back into its previous position at the crook of his neck.

“What’s wrong, Ken?” I’m slightly confused and panicking at the boys crying face.

“I can’t believe it.” He responds, a wide grin overtakes his face as he wetly laughs through his tears.

I pull myself away again, looking up at him. “Ken?”

Hands grasp either side of my head as his laughter rumbles between us. He kisses my forehead, “You remember. I can’t believe you remember.”

When he pulls away, his boyish grin shows teeth as he excitedly says, “It was real, N/N. I actually did die. Remember my superpowers in that game we played when we were kids? When I was Mysterion?”

My eyes light up in recognition of the boy’s superhero alias and he joyfully laughs at my confirmation. “Yeah. Immortality, right?”

“My parents, they used to be in this cult. The Cult of Cthulhu. It’s a curse—whenever I die I always wake up in bed the next morning like nothing ever happened.”

There’s a beat of silence as I process the information. When I take note of the casualty to his confession, I hesitantly ask, “Does this happen a lot..?”

“Yeah, it always happens in front of the guys but they never remember. I don’t think you’ve ever seen it since you were in North Park whenever it happened.”

“Oh my god, Ken.”

“Right?” He laughs, his joyful voice echoing in the empty space. It’s the sound that I’d do anything for. I’d trade my soul just for this if it meant I got to hear it one last time before I go.

“I’m so happy… So, so happy. The fact that you remember… I don’t care if no one else does, the only person I’d want to remember does. And that’s enough. Enough for me. Enough for anything I’d ever ask for in a lifetime. No amount of people can ever measure up to you, N/N. You’re my one in a million.” He nuzzles his nose onto my soft yet sticky cheek in affection.

I get carried away from the blonde’s enthusiasm and I giggle along with him, our faces close to one another. Anyone passing by would’ve been confused if they spotted the both of us, two teens laughing at each other with tears on their cheeks. I bury myself back into the blonde, happy that he came back to me.

When we join the guys during passing period after homeroom is over, they’ll all check up on us when they see the dried tears on our faces. Hand in hand, the blond and I will seek the other’s eyes over our questioning friends and share a secretive smile.

Always and forever.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Long fingers drum along the cool metal of the red soda can, a cheek in hand as Craig watches Kenny cling onto me. Ever since the shocking discovery, I’ve found that the blonde hasn’t strayed too far from my side all day.

Granted, personal space has never been a thing between the boys and I but it’s noticeable when even sweet little Butters complains about not having his little buddy all day, knuckles nervously rubbing together and a pout on his face. Even more so when Clyde has to fight to get time with his bestie and his fake crying gets on everyone's nerves. So shrill to the point that even Cartman tries to shove his beloved cheesy poofs into the brunette’s mouth just to get him to shut the fuck up.

Now, the boys are trying to hold Cartman back from choking the sensitive jock for having to resort to using his snack. Muffled crying sounds out from a mouthful of cheesy goodness as Clyde is backed into a corner of one of the couches, pathetically swatting the larger teen away with his hands.

Kyle tiredly asks if anyone can go to the store to buy some more snacks to get everyone to shut the hell up and before anyone can say anything, Craig is already getting up from his perch on the floor, taking my hand and pulling me out the front door. The clingy blonde’s indignation gets silenced once the door shuts behind us.

The cold night bites at my pink cheeks, wisps of white puffs of air escaping my slightly parted lips. Larger hands take one of mine, rubbing them together as Craig warmly blows on them to provide heat. I gently smile at the kind gesture before he intertwines our fingers together, shoving our joined hands into the pocket of his jacket. His unoccupied hand takes off his hat and he places his chullo over me, taking extra care to ensure my ears are properly covered.

Fluorescent light shines above us as we grab snacks for everyone’s preferences in the convenience store. We’re huddled closely together, softly exchanging words despite there only being one other patron browsing the aisles. With a plastic bag hanging on the crook of his arm, the teen throws an arm over my shoulder, bringing me closer to his side as we venture out into the freezing night again.

When we near the park, I look up at my taller companion and the excitement sparkling in my eyes is enough for him to guide us onto the brittle tanbark that covers the floors. My delighted feet take me to the nearest swing set, settling myself onto the squeaky rubber. I gain momentum to reach higher and higher when Craig finally makes his arrival, seating himself on the unoccupied part of the structure. His legs don’t dangle from the floor like mine do and he smirks at me.

I giggle in delight the higher I go, the adrenaline coursing through my veins at the childhood nostalgia the action evokes. When I’ve had my fill and my body now slightly pushes back and forth, I look over to my right. A wide grin overtakes my face and Craig just looks at me, a soft expression on his face.

My head tilts up, looking at the brightly lit stars saying hello to me. The moon looks so bright, like I can stretch out my arm and touch it. A hand grasps one of the chains holding my seat up, landing on my hand that’s on my swing before Craig steps in front of me. I softly smile at him in question as his other hand finds my other hand on the chain, he bends over me until our faces are closer.

“Did something happen between you and Kenny..? He’s been by your side all day.” He says to me in a voice so low, clouds of warm air hits my lips after every word due to the lack of distance between us.

I blush and look down to my lap, the taller teen furrowing his brows and lightly squeezing the hands he has over mine. “Y/N, look at me.”

And I do. Because it’s Craig and I’d do anything this boy ever asks of me. There’s a period of silence as we gaze at one another, a thoughtful yet frustrated expression on the boy’s face.

“I love you.” He softly whispers to me. It’s only three words yet they hold so much meaning, so profound and intimate as the stars are our only witnesses.

He cuts me off when my lips part, “Not like how the guys love you, Y/N. I love you. In the romantic sense, the one where I want to proudly call you mine and be happy knowing that I'm yours, too. The one where I just want to kiss you just because I can."

My eyes widen at the confession, my heart beat picking up pace until it feels like it'll beat out of my chest. "I love you because I love that your love for others is genuine and warm. It's not fickle and unstable—it's strong and no matter how much bad things it goes through it will stay strong and unscathed, just like the love I hope to give to you too. I love you because you love me, and you always look after me with such tenderness. You always make me feel safe and warm, like nothing would ever harm me.”

A hand lets go, lightly stroking my warm cheek so softly that it doesn’t feel real. The sensation elicits goosebumps and he lightly continues to whisper into the night, “I love the way you care about everyone and everything, and how you treat me with such care as if I’m the most precious thing in the world and without me, the world would be so cold and bitter."

His expression is so tender and I start to feel overwhelmed at the adoration his eyes hold for me. "I love you because you are always so unapologetically kind and it makes me feel as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong. You handle Stripe with such tenderness and treat Tricia like she's your own little sister. And I know that sometimes I never have much to say but when I do, you never interrupt me even when I'm rambling about boring subjects like space. You keep me company and listen to me in such awe, like I'm telling you the cure to cancer.”

“I love how you make the world around me feel so beautiful, as if I’m in a fairytale.” He gently grasps my chin to make me look at the beautiful stars watching us, smiling at the both of us overhead. “I love you because even with all my flaws, you still look at me like I’m an angel. I love how you not only look past my flaws, but you love them too.”

Large hands grasp either side of my head, bringing his face closer as he mumbles into my hair, “I love how you smell, it makes me feel safe with comfort. I love how passionate you are with me, I love how hard you try.”

He pulls away and leaves one hand on my cheek as another softly goes to intertwine our fingers together. “I love how everything seems to fit perfectly, I love how our hands fit together. I love how you’re shorter than me, I love when you have to stand on your tip toes just to kiss me.” He presses a kiss to my cheek.

His hands releases both of their holds—the one on my cheeks and the one with our fingers intertwined so that he can loop his arms around my shoulders. “I love how your arms feel when they hug me. I love your body, and I know you always say that you don’t like the way your body looks but to me, you’re perfect and I’d always love you no matter what.”

One of his arms relinquishes their position around my shoulder, his large hand gently tucking strands of hair away from my face behind my ear. “I love that you’re thoughtful, you always do things with me in mind. You care about me and you always show it. You make me feel safe and secure, like I could never want to be anywhere else with anyone else. You’re everything I could ever want.” His thumb lightly caresses my cheeks after the aforementioned task is done.

“But, I think it’s the little things that make me fall in love with you, and still do, every day, over and over again. I think it’s hidden in the way you argue with your brother, so passionate and confident. Or in the way you talk to Tweek when you notice his anxiety is getting to the best of him, or to Butters when he’s so unsure of himself and his knuckles threaten to rub raw. It’s in the way you quickly come up with a witty comeback to snark Cartman or in the way you’re honest when you don’t understand something, asking Kyle for help.”

His other hand joins the other in softly holding onto both of my cheeks. He looks me directly in the eyes, an unyielding gaze so intense when he says to me, “But most importantly, I love you because you love me and that’s all I ever need.”

He softly smiles at me when he sees the tears that start to flow through my eyes, his thumbs gently wiping them away. “Craig…” I hiccup, my hands shooting up to grasp onto the soft material of the jacket hugging his forearms.

Before I can say anything else, a shout interrupts us from across the playground. “YO! What’s taking you guys so long? The guys sent me to get your slow asses.”

Kenny chuckles when he sees that we made a childish detour, his feet moving to join us. “They thought that you guys-…” He cuts himself off, his voice trailing off when he sees the intimate position we’re in.

When I look over my shoulder, the blonde’s eyebrows furrow when he sees the tear tracks marring my face. A serious expression crosses his own, an immediate shift as his jaw clenches.

“What the fuck did you do, Craig?”

#south park #south park x reader #craig tucker x reader #kenny mccormick #craig tucker #south park fanfiction #kenny mccormick x reader #lalawrites

[sapphicccici]

Gladiator Whump

This is more canon backstory for my OC Detali Gamble, who is a beserker barbarian. She and Cossim Vect are prisoners who are forced to be gladiators. This is about their first fight!

Also today is Cossim's birthday. Everyone say happy birthday Cossim! <3

content warnings: whump, (non permanent) character death, blood, coughing up blood, gladiator fights, barbarian typical rage, guns, sci fi violence, gore

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“You motherfucker,” Detali screamed. “I’m gonna fucking end you!”

“How ‘bout you come over here and try it?” Cossim challenged in an infuriatingly smug tone.

Cossim raised his pistol and fired, and even through the adrenaline Detali could feel the sting in her side where the shot made contact.

“Don’t be so fucking cocky,” she growled at him

She rushed forward, swinging her gun in a broad swipe at his head. He raised a hand and the hit shattered a force shield that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Detali snarled. The next two hits had Cossim landing hard in the dust.

Fear flashed across his face before he produced a small object from a pouch on his waist and chucked it at her. It magnetized to her gun and began to pulse and buzz, and within seconds her gun was glowing crimson.

She cried out and dropped it, her hands already red and burning.

Cossim grinned proudly, his smile now red and missing a few teeth, and wiped at his bleeding nose.

Rage burned in her stomach.

He thinks he’s so fucking clever.

She ripped her handaxe from her belt.

Well, clever can’t do shit against this.

Her axe thunked into Cossim's stomach. She could barely hear him screaming over the roar of her audience.

“No more snarky comments?”

He coughed uselessly and tried to kick her, but it didn’t land.

“Huh?” Detali leaned down close to his face as she ripped the axe from his stomach. He had pretty eyes, even when his pupils were dilated with terror. “Sorry, hun, I didn’t get that. Try again.”

She straightened and brought the axe down again, this time landing it square in the center of his chest. Her boot pressed down on the butt of the axe, pushing it deeper until there was a satisfying crack. Cossim shuddered and coughed one last time, then went still. Blood leaked from the corners of his slack lips.

“That’s what I thought.”

As camera drones swooped in to get a good close-up of the carnage, a twang of guilt pulled at her chest. She kneeled and closed his eyes with bloody fingertips, leaving streaks of red down his face.

This one was fun, she thought. I hope he sticks around.

She stood and raised her arms to the crowd, soaking in their applause, and she smiled.

“Everyone, our victor: Medusa!”

#whump #whump community #oc whump #oc #whumpblr #gladiator whump #original character #character death #cw blood #tw blood #Detali Gamble

[honey-tongued-devil]

Hi!! Could I ask for “Look at me.  Breathe, there you go.” From the prompt list (I believe it’s number 8) with either Sevika or Silco? Bonus points if y/n is having a anxiety attack (as someone who suffers from them). I’d love to see that caring side!

↞“Look at me. Breathe, there you go.”↠

Freaking gold for my Silco brainrot. I’m sorry if it’s short and it’s not perfect, but even today I had an exam (but I wanted to adhere to one-prompt-a-day). This one is special, you can literally hear Silco in the last part... Because I added the audio! It is a paid cameo from @madmizchyf The requests are open, send me a prompt either at your choice or from one of the two lists, specifying with which character you want it!

↠Word count: 860 ↠No use of "y/n", gender neutral reader (no pronouns for the reader) ↠List: hurt/comfort (n.8"Look at me. Breathe, here you are." ) ↠Pairing: Silco x gn!reader (not explicitly Romantic, it’s okay for anyone who needs to hear the Kingpin console them) ↠Tw: Description of a Panic Attack

↠If you have any requests, ask the devil.↞

The lights are too strong.

You feel them as if they are piercing your skull, intense, with colors so saturated that pinch an indefinite point in your behind your nose, getting you a growing start of a terrifying sense of nausea. It’s inside your head, it makes your brain itch until it hurts just to keep your eyes open. 

And the music is no less, it fills that place making it even more asphyxiating: you feel it in your intestines, it goes back to tightening your stomach in a vise, fondling your diaphragm making it tremble to the rhythm of the bass, and enveloping possessive lungs. 

You can’t breathe at all.

There is not a glimmer of air in that prison of flesh and excess, not a single inch of space between the crowd dancing drunk, screaming, letting the unnatural lights illuminate their faces deformed by adrenaline and only-god-knows-what substance.

The room around you starts to spin, your fingers tremble, and you find yourself sinking fingernails and fingertips into your own flesh in order to maintain control, remain conscious, aware that hell will not spare you if you fall to the ground.

You sweat.

You lift your eyes to the ceiling in desperate search of the familiar handrail while with such a slowness that makes you go crazy a drop of sweat runs an invisible path from the forehead to the tip of the nose.

You are struggling, you are struggling like an animal that clings to life to keep control, and as soon as the slightest space between people’s bodies on the dancing opens up you shoot, pushing people away without looking back.

You don’t have time, you’re suffocating, you’re dying. Cross the space that separates you from the office of the Eye of Zaun with the impetuosity and despair of a man who after spending forty days in the desert sees an oasis for the first time.

You don’t knock, don’t have enough strength to do it, just open the door wide and close it behind you quickly, trying to push away the noises, the light, the smell of alcohol, the screams, the smoke, the intermittent darkness, the bodies that crush against each other.

Your body is heavy and you can’t resist gravity anymore, falling to the ground: knees clenched to the chest, the door behind your back as the only support, shield against the world that rages mercilessly out there, voracious, ravenous.

The only thing you are trying to find with your gaze is Silco, but tears make it difficult to focus on the elements of the room, and you perceive only a blurred silhouette approaching, accompanied by the ticking of the boots.

You try to raise your arms, no matter how pathetic that gesture may be, you need comfort, a safe place to take refuge, and that man’s chest tastes like safety, like home.

But your arms don’t respond.

You just want to cry louder, open your mouth wide and scream, but the air is thin and your body remains motionless, silent in letting tears run through your cheeks. 

As long as man’s thumbs do not gather them in a delicate caress, a light contact like the morning breeze but strong like a hurricane. His is a delicate gesture, he lifts your face just enough to make you meet his two-tone eyes -a combination of sidereal ice and fire of the deepest meanders of hell.

"Look at me. Breathe, there you go."

He takes a deep breath, then a second, slow, until almost instinctively you begin to imitate him, filling the lungs with air all the way; only then he leaves your face sitting in turn with his back against the door; with one arm he wraps your shoulders as he places the other under his knees, picking you up to hold you in his arms, in an almost religious silence.

You breathe deeply, the smell of his cologne is mixed with that of cigars in a mixture so familiar that you finally get back in control, first little by little, then all of a sudden.

And you start crying.

It is more a liberating cry than a desperate one, the arms of the man that seem to isolate you from the chaotic and evil world allow you to be fragile, to cry in that place where if you show weak hyenas and vultures are ready to pluck you to the bones. 

And he staysquiet.

His fingers gently caress your head, moving behind your ears some tufts in a gesture affectionate and respectful: he is waiting for you to be completely vented, he is waiting that all the anger, fear, anxiety you carry inside you have found a way to manifest themselves, without forcing you to suppress emotions, and you cannot help but hold onto him even more.

"I know sometimes your mind is unquiet, but it’s okay, it will be okay. Nothing is either as good or as bad as it seems at the time. Breathe..."

Your heart tightens in a vise as his lips rest on one of your temples, letting them touch your skin in a caress when they open to talk.

"breathe."

#arcane x reader #silco #silco arcane #arcane silco #silco x you #silco x reader #arcane x gender neutral reader #silco x gender neutral reader #silco x female reader #silco x male reader #arcane prompt #arcane writing #arcane x female reader #arcane x male reader #arcane

[spideystevie]

for the fall writing prompts: 11 for steve? 💓

i’m a sucker for sharing jackets here you go <3 (0.6k)

prompt: "did you bring a jacket?" / "no" / "here, take mine." [request one here!]

You had meant to bring a jacket, honest, you did. In fact, it was sitting by your front door waiting for you to grab it when Steve picked you up that night on the way to Dustin’s. What was supposed to be a date between the two of you turned into a babysitting escapade when some of the kids heard you were going to the haunted houses a little out of town. 

Things never seem to go as planned, evident from your years of actual “monster hunting” and so, your favorite jacket lay forgotten inside when you ran out the door in a rush, one Doc Marten on your foot, laces untied, and the other in your hand. 

You don’t even realize you’ve forgotten it until you’re past the town limits sign, hearing Dustin complaining about it being too hot and Max saying it’s because of the giant coat he was still wearing.

The four bodies squeezed into the backseat doesn’t help either, Erica, Lucas, Max and Dustin all overlapping and squeezed together to fit into the small space in Steve’s car. 

It’s busy when you get there, teens milling around and waiting in lines to go inside the three different themed “houses” available. It smells like fall and caramel outside, stands selling warm drinks and treats nearby. The two of you lose the four kids almost immediately, leaving you alone in the middle of the crowds. 

“Alone at last,” Steve smirks and you roll your eyes, shake your head but the smile on your face gives you away. He wraps his arm around your waist, lips pressing to your hairline. He’s a mini heater even with the autumn chill in the air as you walk towards the abandoned hospital themed house.

You stand in line with Steve, arms wrapped around yourself to try and keep you warm. He notices like he always does, the slight quiver of your bottom lip and the way your hands rub against your upper arms to generate some type of heat. 

“Did you bring a jacket?” he already knows the answer, knew it as soon as he had picked you up about an hour ago when you only had one shoe on your foot. Your lips pull into a sheepish smile. 

“No,” the wind blows then, a chill running through the thin sweater you wore and causing a shiver to trace down your spine. 

“Here, take mine,” he’s already shrugging it off his shoulders before you can say anything else. You shake your head. 

“Steve, no, it’s fine we’ll be inside soon,” your protests go ignored, Steve’s jacket being hung around your shoulders. You grab the sides of it with your hands to pull it tighter around you. When another gust blows and you shiver despite the jacket around your shoulders, Steve helps you shove your arms into the sleeves and zips the jacket up to your neck. 

You feel lovesick and warm as you watch him. You nestle your face down into the collar, breathing in the lingering scent of Steve. “You won’t be cold?”

He wrinkles his nose a little, face scrunching up as he shakes his head. He pulls you against him into a hug, the toes of your shoes bumping into each other. “I’ve got you to keep me warm.”

“You’re a sap,” you groan, tilting your head back and stepping away from him and turning to face the line. Steve laughs, one of his hands reaching out to grab yours. Your palms slide against each other, fingers lacing together. He squeezes once.

“You love me,” he says and the corners of your lips twitch into a smile. You shrug, shuffling forward as the line moves up. 

“I do, but I’m still using you as a shield in there,” your face is serious despite the slight teasing in your voice. Steve only smiles, pressing a kiss against the back of your hand.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #stranger things #📝: a writes!

[oneshotnewbie]

Are you able to write Veronica Hastings x shy female reader, where the reader is the same age as Spencer during the time period where Veronica is running for senator?

They’re at one of Veronica’s important senator things and while Veronica is giving an interview, Spencer goes to the bathroom and runs into the reader who is crying and having a panic attack about the amount of people.

Basically the reader gets upset and tells Spencer not to tell Veronica because she has more important things to worry about but she does anyway and she immediately stops the interview and goes and comforts the reader (while calling her ‘baby’ and stuff like that❤️)

If you just want to throw this request away you can😂 I’m sorry if it sounds like a lot. I’ve been rewatching PLL and I’ve been filled with endless ideas! Sorry if this is too detailed of a description.

Authors note: I wasn't sure if the reader is just a good friend of Spencer's and that's why Veronica cares so much about her or if they are in a relationship, so I just wrote the second variant and hope I was right with it. If not then I'm sorry.

Summary: You were a normal girl with ordinary social behavior. At least until A made your life hell and years after the events have calmed down, you suffer with a violent but hidden social phobia. When a group of flashing newscasters slowly fill the small room and you feel hemmed in, you are pushed over the edge.

---

Everything around you began to hang up, almost to stand still, and you felt an oppressive warmth rising in you that was accompanied by dizziness. Your breath caught in your lungs, every way blocked the air entering it. The tension in you continuously rising.

You were afraid of situations with people that you did not know personally, which did not necessarily make your job any easier. Fear of strangers; it was not possible to assess them and they were all unpredictable. Eventually, each of them could be a monster that was after you once more.

Your hands gripped the sink with ravishing strength, the muscles in your arms tightening rapidly. White skin contoured your knuckles and revealed the fine veins as you felt your eyes burning.

The room in which the crowd gathered around Veronica Hastings felt like a pool full of piranhas ready to attack. Of course you understood that people did not care about you as an event manager who just had to look good standing in the lounge. Yet the unbelievable, cruel fear that something horribly was about to happen was kindled.

Slow, salty tears trickled down the sides of your nose and you narrowed your eyes. The black imagine in your mind´s eye instantly transforming into the memories back to the bunker in which you were imprisoned. The background noise of your girlfriends interviewers sounded audibly loud and disturbing to your ears; amplifying the monotonous ringing in your ears.

Your protective shield had crumbled under the looks of the people who seemed judgemental to you and made your existence questionable. Your strong walls had been broken down.

Frustrated with yourself and the embarrassing situation you did gotten yourself into, you smacked the white ceramic destructively. You tried to cover your ears, blocking out the voices as a deep, loud sob escaped your mouth.

You had to breathe. It was too hard to breathe. You could not. The panic in you grew steadily and tears ran unhindered down your cheeks, smearing the mascara completely. You could not stop the fear corrupting your head piece by piece; destroying your perspective of life.

You vision blurred in your reflection of the mirror. You could no longer see. No longer breathe or hear. All your senses left and all you could feel was the sharp and pricking pain in your chest, the memories that haunted you and the demons that caught up with you.

You were exposed to the panic attack and could not escape it.

---

"Attention, everyone!" an auditioner had risen from his seat and was crowding the front of the stage at the microphone. Amused, he waved to the audience of newscasters. He fell silent for a while, clearing his voice before continuing with a smile on his lips. "Let´s greet the Senator from Pennsylvania. Mrs. Veronica Hastings."

There was loud cheering from the crowded room; the photographers sneaking around unrecognized between the rows of seats. He had stepped aside, leaving room for the woman he had announced seconds ago. The addressed stood up from her place, renewed applause enveloped the walls and she thanked them heartily for being allowed to be here.

As the woman immediately began her preface, Spencer stood in a quiet corner of the room with some of the other lobbyists, engaged in an animated but low-key conversation. "Yes, your mother outdid herself today. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly she can host an event like this,"

The brunette sighed and finally searched around for you, the actual creator of this entire event. You were the event manager and in demand in your job as ever. You had often helped her mother and smiled on an an advertising poster for exclusive brands in every town in the are. She envied your freedom and your drive to make it this far. She was more then proud of you.

During her studies, Spencer focused on international relations. This was her dream and her chances of becoming the ambassador´s right-hand man in the near future were increased. Her career was within reach in the diplomatic field. She knew that this way she was always somehow close to her mother and you, the only people who mattered most to her besides the other girls. "Spencer?"

Her head snapped around to one of the girls in front of her and gave them an apologetic look. They responded with a friendly smile. "I am sorry, will you excuse me?" with that, she quickly downed the noble and outrageously expensive drink in the champagne glass, said goodbye to them and headed towards the bathroom to check her makeup.

A clean slate and perfection were the top priorities for this career, everything else was unacceptable.

Spencer followed the long and dimly lit room, barely making out each door in the pallid light. Gently, she ran her fingers over the individual panels that were stuck in the middle of the door and traced the lines of the writing. "Bingo,"

With a firm grip on the doorknob, she threw the door open and gave out a startled scream when she saw a darkened figure in front of her. Pondering why someone was sitting in the dark, she stepped a little into the room and waited for the automatic light to come on. Spencer blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness before she recognized you standing in front of her.

"Y/n, you scared me!"

When there was no answer form her best friend, she stood stock still and could not do anything but cast her gaze over you. The shock evaporated and she looked into dark, wide-open eyes. Fixed pupils radiating nothing but pain, fear and pure panic. "Are you okay?"

Your breathing was heavy and your heart was beating hard and fast against your chest. Trembling legs that barely kept you standing and a tremor in both hand made it impossible to move. "I think I am having a panic attack,"

Panic attack was an understatement. You felt like you were suffocating. No matter how many desperate breaths you took, there was not nearly enough oxygen in the air to fill your collapsing lungs. Your hand clutched your white blouse and it looked like you were going to throw up at any moment. "I will get my mother,"

You pounded your chest in desperation, trying to breathe life into it. The dizziness broke out, it felt like being on a sailing ship. "No, please" you only managed a pathetic snarl; you were sure you were going to choke. "She has more important things to do."

But Spencer did not care what you told her. She was intended to shout, even scream. After her mother. In the room full of other people and the Secretary of State, who had come along and embarrassing herself just to make you feel better. For her, it was important how you felt and that you needed help. "You are the most important thing in the world to her. I am gonna get her, no matter what you say."

Your best friend knew that you would only escape the swelling panic attack if you only had her mother by your side. And so she disappeared out of the door faster than she came and ran for her life onto the middle of the stage to get what you needed.

---

"Oh god, baby" she whispered softly before she lunged through the door at you, pulling your violent shaking body into her arms and hugging you tightly for a while. You cried, occasionally speaking things between sobs that she could not understand.

"Please stop crying, love. I am here." Veronica said softly and poured little kisses on your top hair. She pushed you a little bit away from her so she could look into your glassy and red-shot eyes.

The senator carefully wiped away some of the tears glistening on your cheeks with one of her thumbs before looking down at your hands, which you were playing with madly; scraping the corners of your skin until it bled.

Sighing, she took your hands in hers and held them tight to break your bad habit. The saintly tears behind your eyes burned as if you had washed them out with soapy water. Air. You needed her so badly but could not make it. Cold sweat formed on your forehead and your vision darkened. "Close your eyes, angel."

You did as you were told and more tears welled up in your eyes as your heart danced in your chest. "Well done, now try to breathe in as slowly as you can." You were drained, completely drained and your body barely obeyed. Everything rumbled inside you and it seemed so clear to you that there was no room to breathe. "Can not."

"Yes you can, I believe in you."

Your hands clenched in hers and you tried to swallow, desperately pushing the air into your lungs most possible. You pounded your chest again and whimpered in desperation. Warm hands pushed past your back and laid down on your shoulders; slowly massaging it.

"Do you remember our first Christmas together?" Veronica began, hoping some happy memories would bring you down. Her hands fell from your shoulders down your upper arms until they settled in your middle and hugged you tightly from behind. "After dinner we sat drunk on the two cuddly sofas with Spencer and laughed uproariously at the Grinch."

Like a toddler, she rocked you in front of the mirror and breathed tender warmth on your neck. Veronica elicited a quiet giggle from you and she started to grin mischievously into your soft hair. "You were curled up on my lap because you did not like his face and his mighty eyebrows."

"He is green and creepy," you began to squeeze out softly between your dry lips, feeling the air slowly enter back your lungs. The senator grumbled in amusement and looked up in the mirror. The last tears had left your eyes and the first lanes of those that had fallen earlier were already drying on your skin. Your lips were no longer pressed together but lay relaxed on each other and formed, in her eyes, into a beautiful grin. "His smile is like the smiley face from the horror movie."

She noticed how relaxed you suddenly leaned your head against her shoulder. She loosened her tight grip on you, yet not completely letting go of you and still ensconced in her embrace. Veronica gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

"Thanks, Ronnie. You are the only one who can calm me down during a.. well, panic attack. But you always pull it off and Iloveyousomuch," you said in one breath, watching her cheeks turn pink despite the words already said many times.

Her face hid briefly in your neck and you felt small pecks on your ticklish and delicate skin before she reappeared and lifted your chin towards her with her index finger so that you had to look at her. Once again, you smiled at her before she started to speak. "Iloveyoutoo," she said, grinning. In one breath, imitating you.

#veronica hastings x you #veronicahastings #veronica hastings x reader #pll x reader #pll girls #pretty little liars imagines #pretty little liars imagine #prettylittleliars #pretty little liars #pretty little liars x reader #pretty little liars x you #x you #x reader #oneshot #one shot #imagine #imagines #female reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics

[across-violet-skies]

Febuwhump day 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"

Whumpees: Wind & Warriors

Whump Rating: 6/10

TWs: violence, explosives, burn wounds

Warriors slashed furiously with his sword, hacking monsters down with intense focus. Strucken monsters lay in his wake, twitching uselessly as the life drained out of them.

He and Wind had been out scouting when they came across a large monster camp, absolutely riddled with Bokoblins, ChuChus, and all sorts of other low-level creatures. Being Links, Warriors and Wind decided to take on the camp alone, against their better judgment.

Everything was fine– great, even– until more monsters came to join the fight. These ones were stronger– Lizalfos, Aeralfos, Gibdos, Redeads, and… was that a Lynel?

Needless to say, things went downhill for the two heroes quickly. What had seemed like an easy fight soon became overwhelming, and both Wind and Warriors found themselves backed into a corner.

The Captain grit his teeth, defending himself with his shield. “You need to get out of here!” He shouted to Wind, making brief eye contact with the sailor.

“What?” Wind frowned, swiping at a Gibdo. “No! I’m not leaving you here!”

Warriors grunted as a Lizalfos beat against his shield. “Trust me! You need to get away!”

The sailor narrowed his eyes but began backing away nevertheless. He trusted Warriors– and if he called for a retreat, then Wind would follow. But this was different… not quite a retreat. Wind wasn’t sure what the Captain had in mind, but if it got them out of this situation, that was a win in his book.

Wind managed to slip away, still within earshot of Warriors as monsters continued to swarm them both. Distantly, the sailor heard a shout of “eat this, motherfuckers!” before something shot up into the sky, falling back into the thick crowd of monsters. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Wind belatedly recognized the object– an arrow with a large bomb shoved onto the tip

“What the fu-”

Wind was cut off by a massive explosion, pushing the wall of monsters– and him– back with a bang. His ears rang, vision blurry as his head pulsed. The sailor picked his head up slowly, holding a trembling hand to his temple as he glanced around.

The battlefield had been completely leveled. The monsters near the bomb were incinerated, and the rest of them were within the blast radius and were either dead or barely twitching as they carried out their last moments. They had won!

Wait.

The battlefield was completely leveled.

Where was Warriors?

Wind forced himself to stand, shuddering with the effort. The world seemed to tilt and spin around him, but he just closed his eyes and waited for it to pass. Once it did, he glanced around, doing his best to pick his brother out from the crowd.

Wind scanned over the massacre, finally spotting a familiar brilliant blue color that could only belong to Warriors. He shouted, falling on deaf or ringing ears as he stumbled over corpses and dying beasts of all shapes and sizes. The sailor was unusually unsteady on his feet as he tripped over bodies to get to Warriors, determination winning out over disorientation.

“Wars!” The word echoed in his head as he called out, otherwise unheard due to the annoyingly loud ringing in his ears. “Wars!”

Wind skidded on his knees, ignoring the sickening smell of burnt flesh and cooked monster as he kneeled over Warriors. The Captain was rather worse for wear, but his chest was still moving with each wheezing, shuddering breath. He was burnt along one side of his face in a way that reminded Wind of Wild, and-

Wild.

The sailor gasped, fumbling for his necklace. Please work, please work, please work…

“...Hello? Wind?”

Wind couldn’t hear the words, but the noise came through enough. “WILD!” He practically sobbed, speaking way louder than he normally would. “We need help! There’s been a… an accident!” On the other end, Wild replied, and it sounded urgent. “I can’t hear you! Just get some potions and head south!”

Wild probably said something in response, but Wind couldn’t hear it and didn’t care. He leaned over Warriors, swallowing thickly as he assessed the Captain’s state. He was out of his wheelhouse here… Wind had never had to patch up wounds quite like this. Burns, especially ones as severe as these, were not common during his adventure. Warriors was barely even bleeding, and the skin around the burns peeled, unsettling dark gray curling back to reveal red with white bumps underneath.

“We’re gonna make it out of here,” Wind assured Warriors, despite the Captain’s lack of consciousness. The sailor was fading, so it sounded more like “wirr g’nna make ‘t outta here” (which was considerably less assuring). He blinked out of sync, swaying woozily as his body gave up, slumping on top of Warriors as everything went dark.

Wind woke up comfortable. His head was propped nicely on a pillow– perhaps even more than one– and he was swaddled in blankets. Despite all the comfort, the sailor felt achy, head swimming with confusion and exhaustion as he tried to recall what had happened. He opened his eyes with a groan, blinking as he took in his surroundings. The forest, with trees towering high above his head, stood all around him. Bedrolls were laid out around– only a few, and only one occupied (by Warriors)– but no other brothers were within Wind’s sight.

It was Warriors’ voice that startled him back to reality. “I’m sorry,” the Captain murmured, fiddling with the edge of a blanket– Wind recognized it to be one of Legend’s– as he spoke. “I wasn’t thinking… you weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

Suddenly, it all came back at once– the battle, Warriors telling him to get away, a bomb impaled on an arrow as it soared into the sky, only to come back down with a bang– and Wind narrowed his eyes at the Captain. “Yeah, tell me: why the hell would you shove a bomb onto the tip of an arrow?!”

Warriors pulled a small smile at that one. “Actually, Wild taught me. He said Twilight used the same strategy, so I figured it wasn’t completely nuts,” he explained, shrugging. “And you have to admit, it was effective.”

“...Yeah. True.” Wind cracked a smile as well. “When I saw that fly up into the sky– oh man, I thought it was the dumbest shit, but then it hit-” The sailor grimaced, as did Warriors. “...Well. It definitely took care of those monsters. And we’re both okay, so I’d call that a win.”

The Captain sighed, frowning. “If I had known you’d be caught in the blast radius, I wouldn’t’ve shot it,” he admitted, staring at his lap with a scowl reminiscent of the Veteran. “I’m glad you’re okay. How are your ears?”

Wind wiggled his ears, letting them twitch and swivel. “They’re fine. The ringing has mostly gone away by now.” He shrugged. “What about your burns? You look a lot less crispy than the last time I saw you,” he remarked, snorting.

“That’s one way to put it,” Warriors chuckled, running a hand along one side of his face. “Luckily, Wild found us pretty quickly. A bit of red potion and I was healing fine, but ‘Rule sprinkled a bit of that healing magic of his to help the scarring.” The Captain turned his head, letting Wind get a closer look. “It looks pretty good, especially considering how severe the burns were. There might be a little bit of scarring, but it’ll be pretty mild.”

The sailor nodded slowly. “It would’ve looked cool, though.”

Warriors snorted, gesturing toward Wind’s ear. “Glad you think that, because your ear got a little singed.” Wind immediately went to grab his ear, eyes wide as he ran his fingers along the length of his ear. It was… normal? “Ha! Got you! You should’ve seen your face!”

Wind rolled his eyes, grinning. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

The Captain waved a hand, shrugging. “Yeah, yeah. Your ears look fine. And as long as the ringing goes away, then there shouldn’t be any permanent damage,” he mused. Warriors’ smile lessened as guilt crossed his features. “...But I’m sorry you were caught in the blast in the first place. I had no idea it would explode like that– usually my bombs have a smaller radius.”

“It’s probably because you shoved an arrow through it!” Wind exclaimed, raising his arms with a shake of his head. “That was some crazy shit, Wars! It took out all of the monsters!”

“I know!” The Captain agreed, nodding.

Wind snickered, eyes narrowing as he smirked. “Talk about effective… do you think it works with other weapons? Like if I attached a bomb to my boomerang, do you think-”

“It would blow up in your face,” Wild answered, eyes crinkled in amusement despite the stern expression he was trying to hold. “Trust me, I know all about explosives. Arrows are the best thing to attach bombs to, but maybe you two should hold off on that.” The Champion paused, smirking a little. “At least until I can get you both some proper training!”

“Awesome!” The sailor exclaimed, pumping his fist excitedly.

Wild nodded, smiling slipping from his lips as he frowned. “Oh, by the way, the Old Man’s gonna have a talk with you two.” He grimaced, dramatically drawing a finger across his neck. “Good luck! Don’t tell him I taught you!”

As Wild jogged away, Wind and Warriors exchanged glances, grimacing.

“Fuck.”

–> support me on ao3!

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday13 #tw violence #tw explosion #tw burns #linked universe #lu wind #lu warriors #lu wild #linked universe fanfic #ao3 #riv writes

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Wisdom Teeth- Marvel One Shot

Y/N has to get her wisdom teeth taken out, and her friends, Spider-Man and Deadpool, are there to take care of her

“Just gave Y/N a valium pill!” Wade said, holding his phone out in front of him, “now let the fun begin!”

“Wade, put that away,” Peter scolded, “help me get Y/N into the car.”

“But how am I supposed to record all the funny stuff she’s gonna end up saying?”

“I’m not gonna say anything funny,” Y/N slurred.

“Ha! That’s what you think, doll. Just wait until that pill really kicks in.”

“Remind me where we’re going?” Y/N asked, trying her best to walk without help.

“The SHIELD med bay, Y/N,” Peter answered.

“Oh… why?”

“Because you’re getting your wisdom teeth out, remember? Gosh, you are out of it.”

Peter helped Y/N slide into the SHIELD hover-car. He sat down in the backseat next to her while Wade took the wheel in the front. Y/N slumped forward in her seat; she would have fallen over completely were it not for Peter, who gripped her by the shoulders to keep her upright.

…

When the group arrived at the SHIELD med-bay, Y/N could barely walk. Peter was tempted to just lift her up and carry her the rest of the way, but he knew he’d never hear the end of it if Y/N found out about it. So, he let Y/N lean on him all the way to the operating room.

“Where’re we?” Y/N slurred, “are we on Morag?”

“Nope, still on Earth, Y/N,” Peter answered gently.

A SHIELD nurse walked in shortly followed by an anesthesiologist and a surgeon.

“Have her lay down here,” the nurse instructed, gesturing to a dentist’s chair.

“Y/N, I’m gonna let you down slowly, okay?”

“Mmhm,” Y/N replied dazedly.

Peter tried his best to lower Y/N into the chair as gracefully as he could, but Y/N almost fell out twice.

“I’m afraid only one of you can stay for this next part,” the surgeon said, “we don’t want the room to be too crowded.”

“Got it,” Peter said, “Wade, you’re up.”

…

Y/N watched Peter leave with a sad look in her eyes. She watched Wade enter her field of vision. He took her hand and started rubbing circles into it.

“Hey, Y/N, remember me?” He asked.

“Wade, where’d Peter go?”

“He just had to step out for a minute, don’t worry, he’ll be back as soon as you wake up.”

Y/N felt the nurse place a foam ball in her other hand.

“Squeeze that for me, sweetheart,” the nurse said.

Y/N squeezed as hard as she could manage, but she felt so weak that she wasn’t sure if she was actually squeezing anything. Y/N flinched when she saw the anesthesiologist pull out a needle.

“Wade, I’m scared,” Y/N said, tears welling up in her eyes.

‘I know, I know,” Wade said, “but it’ll just be a small little pinch and then you’ll go to sleep. And hey, I promise we can get ice cream after this. How does that sound?”

Y/N nodded. She barely felt the needle enter her arm.

“Count backwards from ten for us, Y/N,” the anesthesiologist said.

“Ten, nine…eight…seven…”

Y/N was finding it difficult to keep counting. She blinked once, twice, then her eyes stayed shut. The last thing she felt before drifting off was Wade’s hand letting go of hers.

…

Y/N woke up to pain. So much pain. Her mouth felt like it had been smashed with a block of concrete, and when she ran her tongue over her gums, she tasted blood.

“Hey, she’s waking up.”

Y/N opened her eyes to her friends standing over her.

“How are you feeling, my little chipmunk?” Wade asked.

“Chi-unk?” Y/N tried to say, but her lips felt numb. She felt around with her tongue and tasted cotton on either side of her mouth. Her cheeks were also numb. Y/N brought a hand up to her cheek, but Peter gently grabbed it and put it back down.

“You can’t touch your face yet, Y/N,” he said, “it’s okay, we’re gonna get you home.”

Y/N felt herself being lifted up into a bridal carry. She looked up into Peter’s lenses.

“I ‘an walk,” Y/N protested.

“Sorry, Y/N, but you could barely walk on valium, you’d fall over if you tried to walk now.”

Peter carried Y/N to the hovercar that was parked on the helicarrier landing pad and placed Y/N across the backseats. He sat down on the floor next to her and ran a hand through her hair. Wade put the car in gear and started to fly up into the air.

The trip home happened in a haze for Y/N. One minute she was in the hovercar, and the next minute she was being laid down in her bed. Y/N closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she had no recollection of the past few hours. Y/N sat up in bed and looked around. There were discarded rolls of cotton in a nearby trashcan, and Peter was sitting in a chair by her bedside.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“You don’t remember anything?” Peter asked.

“I remember you guys gave me a pill, then we got in some fancy SHIELD car, and then Wade was with me, and there was a needle.”

“That pretty much sums up the first half,” Peter said, “you got your wisdom teeth out. The surgery only took about twenty minutes. They brought you out, and we took you home.”

Y/N looked around for Wade, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Wade?” Y/N asked.

“He’s…” Peter paused, “I don’t know. He just left as soon as we got you in bed.”

“Surprise!” Came a sing-song voice.

The door to Y/N’s room swung open to reveal Wade, carrying a bowl of ice cream. Y/N’s eyes lit up. It was her favorite flavor of ice cream, topped with whip cream and sprinkles.

“Wade.” Peter’s lenses narrowed, “you know she’s not supposed to have that yet.”

“Pssh, you worry too much,” Wade said, handing the bowl to a very excited Y/N, “what could happen?”

…

“This could happen,” Peter said as he held Y/N’s hair back.

Y/N vomited into the trashcan that had been left in her room. Not an hour had passed after eating the ice cream and she was already regurgitating all of it.

“Okay, when the doc said ‘no dairy’, I assumed he meant straight up whole milk,” Wade said, “I didn’t think ice cream counted.”

Peter rubbed Y/N’s back with his other hand as she retched. Y/N was never going to look at a bowl of ice cream again. When her retching had turned to dry heaves, Peter helped her get up and guided her back to bed. He grabbed a washcloth and dabbed at her mouth. Y/N leaned back against the pillows, absolutely exhausted by just vomiting.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not your fault,” Peter replied, glaring at Wade.

…

Y/N drifted in and out of consciousness for hours. She felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice echoed, “dinner time.”

Y/N groaned and pulled the covers over her head.

‘I know, I know, but you have to eat something. Come on, I made you some chicken broth. It’s got really tiny noodles in it, it should be easy on your mouth.”

Y/n groaned again and let Peter help her sit up. She tried to take the bowl of soup from Peter but he gripped it firmly.

“Ah ah, I don’t want you lifting anything,” he said, “let me do it.”

Y/N’s face turned red as Peter spoon-fed her the chicken broth with noodles.

“This is embarrassing,” Y/N mumbled.

“Yeah, but you’d do the same for me,” Peter reasoned.

Y/N only finished half of the soup before her eyes started to drift closed again.

“Wait, you can’t go to sleep yet. It’s time for your next dose of painkillers.”

Without opening her eyes, Y/N held her hand out for Peter to dump a small, white pill into. She took it and washed it down with a glass of water left by her nightstand.

“Now you can sleep,” Peter said.

Y/N was asleep before Peter finished his sentence.

…

3 days later

Y/N crept through the alley. If her intel was right, a crime gang should be meeting here any minute now. Y/N paused when she heard voices. By the sound of the discussion, it was definitely the gang she was looking for. Y/N charged up ice crystals and leapt into their path.

“Party’s over, boys,” Y/N said, though it caused pain to surge through her mouth.

The members of the gang all wore looks of shock on their faces. They went to draw their weapons, but they were all quickly immobilized by… webs? Y/N looked up as she heard the tell-tale sound of webs shooting through the air. Spider-Man crouched on a nearby fire-escape, his lenses narrowed menacingly. He leapt down and landed right in front of Y/N. He turned to the incapacitated gang members.

“Excuse us for a moment, fellas,” Spider-Man said, “Blizzard and I have something to discuss.”

Spider-Man turned back to Y/N and folded his arms across his chest.

“What are you doing out here?” he demanded, “Your mouth’s not healed yet, you should be in bed!”

“I took painkillers before I left,” Y/N argued, “I feel fine!”

Y/N held a hand to her cheek. Despite the painkillers, her mouth was still very, very sore. But Spider-Man didn’t need to know that.

“We’re going home.” Spider-Man put an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her close, “Now.”

“Hey, uh, Spidey?” the gang leader called, “what about us? You’re not just gonna leave us here, right?”

Spider-Man sighed.

“The police are on their way,” he said, “and make better choices next time. You’re lucky Deadpool wasn’t out here.”

With that, Spider-Man swung himself and Y/N away from the alley and back home.

…

Spider-Man opened the door and the sound of a blender running assaulted Y/N’s ears.

“Wade, what are you making?” Y/N called.

“Milkshakes,” Wade called back.

Y/N ran out of Spider-Man’s grip and into the kitchen.

“Can I have one?” Y/N asked, reaching for a freshly made milkshake.

Wade smacked Y/N’s wrist lightly with a spoon.

“Naughty patients who run off to fight crime in the middle of recovery don’t get any milkshakes.”

“Please?” Y/N gave her best pouty face.

Wade tilted his head back dramatically and groaned, his chef’s hat almost falling off.

“Fine,” Wade grumbled, “but don’t go running off again, or I’ll make sure you stay put and you won’t like it.”

“let me guess, bribery?” Y/N asked as she sipped on her milkshake.

“Sedatives,” Wade answered with a smile.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked down at her milkshake. Wade laughed and shook his head.

“I didn’t drug your milkshake, silly. Oh, but you should’ve seen your face. I should’ve taken a picture.”

Peter took off his mask and joined Y/N and Wade in the kitchen. Wade poured the contents of the blender into a glass and handed it to Peter. Peter drank from his milkshake as Wade grabbed one for himself. It would be a while before Y/N could go out again, but for now, she had everything she needed right here.

#marvel #spider-man #deadpool #marvel x reader #reader x marvel #fem! reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man x fem! reader #platonic deadpool x reader #reader x platonic deadpool #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #oneshot #wisdom teeth #hurt/comfort #fluff #drugging mention #peter parker x reader #peter parker #wade wilson