#SQUARE let me cross gear. I deserve it.

[heniareth]

Find The Word (long)

I have been tagged by multiple people and have decided to dump it all into one huge post in no particular order and from all parts of the story. Enjoy the madness! XD XD XD

CW for canon-typical violence and fantasy racism

@wild-houseplant thank you for the tag!! I can show off two snippets from the next section and one with Sten which makes me. Very happy XD XD XD

Wrap

Astala stared at his foot. It was filthy with mud, and through the Dalish foot-wrappings she saw a bit of blood gathering between his toes.

“Why didn’t you put your boots on?”

“Does that matter?” Ilanlas groaned. “The harm is done.”

He looked left and right, wobbling in place. Finally, he sighed.

“I need help.”

“Sure.” Astala stretched her hand out to steady him. Halfway through the motion, she stopped. “Oh. Wait. Now you want my help, huh?”

Ilanlas gave her a glowering stare and opened his mouth.

“Oh no,” Astala hissed. “You’ve been ignoring me for the last few days and now you suddenly want my help. You don’t get to act offended now.”

Consider

“Sten,” Astala said. “You’ve fought in battles, right? What do you do against a large-ish number of foes armed with swords and maces rushing towards you?”

“Shields and spears,” the qunari answered. “Maintain your foe at a distance and slay him before he can reach you.”

“Hm.” Astala considered the idea. “But spears won’t do much against skeletons, right?”

“No,” Sten said. “You have to shatter them. Clubs or axes will be more effective.”

“What if we pair one guy with a pitchfork with another guy with axe and shield?” Astala said. “The guy with the pitchfork holds the skeleton at bay while the other guy hacks it into pieces.”

“You are relying on these men to hold a line,” Sten answered. “They won’t. These aren’t soldiers. They are excitable and impressionable fishers and artisans.”

Scream

Her heart skipped a beat when they found Ilanlas in the town’s square in what looked like a tense argument with a shem. What prevented her from running over and dragging him away was the fact that Mellan, the elven girl from the tavern, was standing right next to him as if supervising the whole operation. And then the shem nodded, Ilanlas handed him something and received something in return. Then they parted ways. Astala approached, carefully.

When Ilanlas saw her, his expression soured, and he marched up to her as if gearing up for a fight. Astala braced herself. Instead of screaming at her, however, Ilanlas grabbed her wrist, pressed something into her hand and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“Now go buy your blanket,” he spat.

Astala looked down at her hand. There was silver lying in it. She counted eight pieces.

“Where-?” She stared at Ilanlas. “How?”

@fade-and-loathing-in-thedas I am super super late but these words are a treasure!! Thank you so much for the tags, both of them!

Hope

"Thing is," he continued with what wouldn't even have been a lie a year ago, "I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead."

The Warden raised her eyebrows so high they disappeared under her dark fringe. The other Grey Warden scoffed and the dark-haired witch even laughed. Only the redhead kept quiet and studied him intently. Zevran made a mental note of that while his heart sank at their reaction. Was his situation this hopeless?

Despair

Astala forced her eyes open to find the king looking straight at her.

“I’m Astala, your Majesty,” she managed. She’d forgotten to bow.

“Pleased to meet you!” The king beamed. “The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help them.”

Unsure what kind of answer was expected of her, Astala nodded.

The king seemed to find that sufficient and went right on. “I see you’re an elf, friend. From where do you hail?”

Perhaps she could find a helmet that covered her ears. Would people take her for a slight human woman if she did?

Beauty

“She deserved it, believe me,” Leliana said, and Astala wholeheartedly believed her. “So don’t worry. We will find someone for you. It won’t even be hard! You’re very beautiful.”

Laughter, unexpected, burst out of her chest. “Now you’re just trying to cheer me up.”

“What? No!” Leliana looked genuinely taken back. “You are very- I’m not saying this to cheer you up!”

“Please.” Astala let her head fall to the side. “I’ve got short hair and the biggest nose in my whole family.”

“I like your nose!” Leliana protested. “It adds character!”

“That’s a very nice way to say that it’s enormous.”

“Stop that!”

Lost (I apologize to all Amells and Suranas out there)

“And here I thought I was the only one to notice our dear Warden’s savior complex,” Zevran said and affixed an easy smile to his face.

“What is there to notice? Even a blind could see it.” Morrigan’s voice was laced with venom and her face was twisted into a sneer. “First, we take this enormous detour to spare one inconsequential noblewoman’s life. Then, we take a detour during that detour to help the Dalish. During this detour within a detour, we “save” a group of powerful creatures and thus render them useless to us. Next, we spend days clearing an already lost tower for some templars incapable of doing their job, and now they want to hunt for a population that should be more than able to take care of itself. And we keep picking up strays!”

Morrigan jabbed her thumb over her shoulder to where the three Circle mages were walking.

Pain

Astala was only dimly aware of being manhandled as her companions as they unbuckled the various pieces of armor. When Leliana grabbed her right arm, pain flared up from the whole thing and Astala groaned.

"Oh Maker," Leliana gasped. "Wynne, look at this!"

Astala winced as Wynne gingerly inspected.

"Maker's Breath. What have you been fighting?"

"Dwarves," Astala muttered.

"But your whole arm is crushed!" Wynne exclaimed.

Astala blinked and coughed. "Is it?"

"I don't want to alarm you," Alistair said somewhere above and to her... she couldn't really tell with one busted ear. "I really don't want to alarm you, but, uh... she just coughed up blood."

Brushed

She knew.

Just as quickly as it had come, the euphoria washed away and was replaced with a freezing, sinking sensation of dread. She knew. Knew what? How much? How much of his hand had he inadvertently shown? He felt sick. He felt dizzy, even. How had he allowed this kind of feeling to sneak up on him, and to fall for her out of all people, and after what had happened to-

“Morning, Zev!”

The Warden brushed past him, smiling brightly and holding her flower-crowned head high for all to see. Through the panic the second voice nudged him excitedly and blabbered incoherent nonsense at the sight of that smile. Before he could realize what he was doing, his own lips formed a smile in response, and once again he was left standing, dumbfounded, as the Warden approached Morrigan for some tea.

Hurt

“You made the right choice,” Zevran said while trying to untangle himself from the memory of his dead lovers. “It is no good to be bound to people that hurt you. Which is why I am no longer a Crow and, presumably, why you are here.”

Leliana stared into the hearth barely illuminating the room with a few smoldering embers. FInally, she sniffed and nodded. “But even so, I still grieve.”

Zevran swallowed thickly around the knot in his throat.

“I suppose you cannot avoid it,” he said. “Not if you gave them your heart, or part of it.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Leliana wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “What a foolish thing to do, to give our hearts away when they might be shattered so badly.”

Heat

Astala's ears and cheeks had started to heat up, and they were burning even now. No matter what way she turned, eyes open or closed, all she saw before her was the light flickering along Zevran as he smiled, as his hair as it fanned out when he spun. She could still feel the rhythm of the melody, his feet stomping on the ground in those boots that fit far too well, see his lean silhouette dark against the flames as he danced.

@yukichouji I finally get to respond to your second tag! Featuring some Alistair, some Zevran and some Sten, and an innkeeper worried about her money ^^

Troubling

“Anyway,” Alistair said very quickly, “I’ll fill you in on what we learned while we wait for Morrigan.”

In the chantry, he informed Astala, he and Morrigan had learned troubling news. Arl Eamon was sick and had sent his knights out on a desperate search for Andraste’s Ashes to cure him. The mages were apparently also having problems.

“Some say they have all turned into abominations,” Alistair said. “Which would really not be good if we wanted to ask them for help. So, in short, the quest for allies is going to be more difficult than we imagined.”

Astala started twisting a strand of leather around her finger.

“What did you find?” Alistair asked.

“Well,” Astala untwisted the bit of leather. “There are two paid jobs hung out on the board that I have requested and there might be more if we ask around. There’s also soldiers of teryn Loghain looking for us stationed at the tavern.”

“That’s… bad,” Alistair said.

“It is,” Astala nodded.

Trust

"Hm." Zevran reached for a sock as well. "Why do I feel like it was something I said?"

"It wasn't," Astala snapped. "Stop asking."

A light frown creased Zevran's brow. "As you wish. Should I leave entirely?"

"You should-" Astala swallowed her words and grabbed a pile of folded clothes. "Just… do the laundry."

She didn't storm off. She was just walking quickly, and her ears felt like they had been set aflame. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should have known that Zevran would be worse than any shem. Because, unlike them, he didn't have to win her trust. He already had it.

Sword

An unseen explosion shook the earth beneath them. Astala drew her blades in a flash and spun around. There was nothing with them on the shore. Out of the upper levels of the tower of Kinloch Hold, however, rose smoke.

"Oh, that's not good," Astala muttered.

"They're still fighting in there!" one of the patrons called. "I thought they would be done by now?"

Astala could hear Alistair muttering under his breath.

Sten approached her, sword drawn. "We should never have come here, Warden."

"Well, we are here now," Astala said.

Weight

Astala looked at the coin and swallowed. It was strange: not round like the others and it didn't bear the crown if Ferelden. Instead, a strange symbol stood in its middle, and the coin had eight sides.

"I can't take this," the innkeeper said. "I don't know what it is and it doesn't have the right weight. Where did you get it from?"

"From bandits," Astala said quietly.

"Bandits," the innkeeper repeated flatly. "And they gave you coin?"

@bumblerhizal thank you as well for the tag! Some Zevwarden, some of the Chantry being shitty, some plums and some more Zevwarden. Enjoy!

Drink

They let themselves be carried by wave after wave until the water became too cold to bear. They trekked back to the camp with haste, bundled up in dry clothes and blankets, and even so Zevran’s teeth chattered, and the wind chased shiver after shiver down his spine. Wynne received them with open disapproval and two steaming mugs of rich broth.

“I would be very surprised if the two of you didn’t catch the cold of your life down there,” she chided as she shood them to the fire and threw another blanket over them. “Your lips are blue! What were you thinking?”

“Worth it,” Astala muttered into her drink and scooted closer to Zevran.

Zevran had to agree. He took a sip of the broth and relished the way it warmed his insides as it traveled into his stomach. He leaned against the Warden. Purely for body warmth, of course.

Lie

If they had lied about an elf who was close to Andraste, they would’ve definitely lied about the Exalted March on the Dales.

What was she supposed to do with all of this?

“Nobody’s ever tried to take the Dales back?”

Ilanlas laughed. “How would we?”

“You’ve got weapons,” Astala said. “You’re good shots and you have mages! Did nobody ever try?”

“The Dales lie between Ferelden and Orlais, and belong to the latter,” Ilanlas said. “What you propose would result everybody hunting us down like rabid dogs. There is a reason why we do not settle down.”

Warm

The rest of the night passed by uninterrupted, and the morning greeted them with a slightly cloudy sky. Duncan frowned up at the clouds. Astala welcomed them. The sun was already warming up the air, and every bit of shade would be welcome. Besides, she had discovered that the trees in the orchard they had slept next to carried plums. She immediately climbed the first tree and began filling her pack with plums. Duncan told her that this would anger the farmer, but only once, and he didn’t make her come down. And the farmer deserved it anyways. He’d kicked them out in the middle of the night when Ilanlas was sick. A pack full of plums was the least Astala would’ve taken if she’d had the chance.

Cold

"It will be cold again tonight," Astala mused.

"That it will," Zevran agreed. "But it will be the last night in a long time I think. I have been told that the city of Orzammar is lighted and warmed by flows of hot, molten rock."

"Molten rocks." Astala stared off into the distance as she tried to picture a rock in liquid state. She didn't quite know where to begin with. "The things there are in the world..."

"The things there are in Ferelden alone," Zevran said. "You should see the deserts in Antiva, my Warden. That is something worthy of admiration."

"Oh, I don't know, Zev," Astala said with a teasing smile. "Have you ever seen a rock melt? It sounds pretty impressive."

"So it does, if I didn't suspect that I would melt right alongside with it if I ever came close enough to lay eyes on the process," Zevran replied.

Aaaaaand it’s done!! I do hope you enjoyed these ^^ I would like to tag you all back, as well as @oxygenforthewicked @the-iron-lion @castlecousland and @icy-warden to find the words make, sleep, tree and terrible. Have a lovely day all of you!

#long post #astala tabris #ilanlas mahariel #leliana #alistair #morrigan #zevran #zevwarden #wynne #warden commander duncan #sten #the chantry #anti-chantry #dragon age #dao #my writings #find the word game #fantasy racism #canon-typical violence #cw: blood #cw: injury

[heirsofdiscord]

Songstress at the Gold Saucer

#FFXIV #FFXIV Screenshots #CH:L𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯 ♦ᴹᵃʳᵐᵒᵗ♦ #SQUARE let me cross gear. I deserve it.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

Your name: submit What is this?

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #bucky x sarah #Sarah Wilson

[squishneedsahero]

Getting The Family Together

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 12 of 13

Word Count: 1550

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You're in an amazingly good mood when you arrive home that evening after seeing Jason. Your other children, official and unofficial, notice along with your husband but none of them ask, assuming that the GCPD charity ball had just gone better than expected. It isn't until a few days after you had seen Jason that Bruce brings up your persistent good mood. You had successfully pulled him away from all of his work, yet again, just to cuddle him on the couch. You were in your usual spot on his lap with your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head when he brings it up, "what has you in such a good mood? I know you well enough that it wasn't the GCPD charity ball."

You lean your head back against his shoulder so you can look up at him, "well, I sure hope you would know that, Love. But whats different about my mood?" Your question is genuine in the moment, but the second after you ask it you realize of course you wouldn't be able to hide the fact that you were happy about seeing and holding your Jaybear in your arms once again.

"Well, since you left that evening you've been in a-" he pauses, wanting to choose the correct words since he knows if he were to say 'better mood' you would relentlessly bug him about it for the next week or so, "you've been in a good mood far too long for it to have just been due to you being tipsy from the party."

You laugh gently, "good catch," you say in reference to his pause, "you know me so well." You take a pause of your own, absentmindedly tilting your head to press a kiss to his jaw. "I saw Jason," you eventually answer and open your mouth to continue but get interrupted.

"I know, I won't ask you where he is," Bruce says as the both of you know he had been trying to track Jason down for months at this point. At first it had been to stop him but as soon as he learned it was Jason his motivation had changed to helping Jason get off the seemingly destructive path he was currently on. His arms tighten around you, "I'm glad you got to see him." His hand brushes your hair out of your face, "I know that you missed him."

You smile at the man holding you, grateful yet again for the many arguments you had gone through with him, convincing him that you weren't scared of the potential dangers. "I know you did too, eventually he'll be ready to come home again and we can have our family together once more."

You can do nothing but glare at the man standing in your face. He was ugly, before you had broken his nose with your fist and without the black eye that was quickly forming. In all honesty you were surprised that it had taken this long for you to get kidnapped for the second time in your life, the first time since officially meeting Bruce. "Now, you're going to behave yourself while we call your husband and get him to send us the ransom money if he wants to see you alive again."

"Okay," you respond as it takes everything in you to not just sit there and taunt the man. They had you duck-taped to a chair, preventing you from causing further damage to their faces. And sure maybe you should be acting scared but still your reaction to danger is to laugh in it's face, even if you know that as soon as that phone call was made you would be out of this place in the hour.

The brutish looking man growls in frustration and slaps you across the face before yelling at his friends to keep an eye on you while he makes a phone call.

Tears sting your eyes at the slap on the face but you bite your tongue and look at the other two men who were now standing in front of you. There were maybe 20 others scattered through the building, they had clearly thought all of this through, but were a little underprepared for the fact that every single hero or vigilante in the city would take your kidnapping personally.

The man who had slapped you comes back, bragging about how scared Bruce had sounded on the phone and how willingly he was ready to hand over the money he had demanded. He barely makes it back into the room, when there is a moment of static over their walkie-talkies and then as scream and some loud banging off in the distance.

"Ooh, that doesn't sound very good," you say, clenching your teeth in false sympathy for them. "You guys might want to get that checked out." You can see that the man wants to slap you again for your big mouth but there is another shout and he begins directing the men to group together to try and protect the merchandise.

Eventually, you notice him first, Jason sneaks into the room in his Redhood gear. You were a little surprised to see him out of everyone since there had not been a single gunshot fired and that was kind of his thing. It didn't take the men around you long to notice Jason, since he was moving through the open now.

As they approach Jason, after realizing he isn't shooting everyone on sight, the men's confidence gets shattered as an actual child jumps from the rafters and knocks 3 of them down in one go. They begin firing their guns, shooting at anything that moves. You see their recklessness and know you should get out of there since as soon as they realize they're outmatched they're going to threaten you in the hopes of gaining an advantage.

You unsteadily stand, still duck-taped to the chair, and begin to waddle towards the nearest doorway. You get interrupted by your oldest son catching you, "hey, need some help?" Dick asks, clearly teasing you for this predicament you had gotten into.

"No thanks, Nightwing, I've heard that it improves your running speed if you're tied to a chair."

You see the flash of a smile cross his face as he just cuts the tape and helps you out of it. He then goes to help you out of the room but you stop him and say, "I can manage, you help your brothers."

You can see him hesitate for a moment before going with it, you then take off towards the door, only to be interrupted once again, but this time by the man who had slapped you, pointing his gun in your face. Your three sons who had come to your rescue, clearly trying to keep some sort of secret identities by the fact that everyone wasn't here, are all busy in the moment. You stop short at the sight of the gun, but once again you're impulsive, kicking the man square in the balls before bolting to the door.

You make it to the door and pull it open, stepping through it just for a shooting pain to go through your thigh. It's as you fall to the ground that you hear the gunshot and realize that the bastard had shot you. You do what you can to close the door behind you, just in time since another bullet hits the door. You then scoot across the grimy floor, to a spot where you can hide since you won't be moving far, and look at the blood trail you had left. You take a breath and collect your thoughts, remembering the sports bra you had worn and ripping your shirt off for a makeshift bandage/tourniquet for your leg.

You get it wrapped well enough to stop some of the bleeding and begin putting pressure on the wound, despite the fact that doing so nearly caused you to black out. Not long after that the fighting in the other room stops and Jason is the first one through the closed door.

"Mama?" He takes the hood off as he lands on his knees beside you.

"I'm fine," you say, motherly instinct taking over and you wanting to protect him despite the fact that he had just taken out at least 7 guys on his own moments before.

"Bull," he says and moves your hands so that he can evaluate things, not that he didn't trust you knew what you were doing but knowing that your mind was probably a bit all over the place.

"I'm fine, enough, Jaybear," you say and lean your head against the wall behind you.

Hours later you're relaxing on the couch with Bruce and three of your boys, holding them all as well as you can with a leg cast. The bullet had fractured your femur so it made everything a bit more complicated but at least now you knew how it felt to be shot so you could write better descriptions in your books.

But it's as you're sitting there with Bruce, Dick, Tim and Damian that the doorbell rings and a few minutes later Alfred enters the room. You look up to see Jason standing beside him, "Hey."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #batfam #batfam x you #batfam x y/n #batfam x batmom #batfam x reader #Batman #batman x you #batmom #batmom reader #batman x batmom #batman x batmom!reader

[jungwonenthusiast]

I’ll Take You to Heaven

pairing: dom! Jeno x fem! reader

genre: smut

warnings: protected sex, oral (female recieving), degradation, Jeno has a small pain kink

word count: 2.9 k

A/N: in this fic jeno kinda just dives into being a dom without a conversation with the reader if they are okay with the things he’s doing. i know for most this is a given but do not do this in real life!! please make sure your partner is consenting to being a sub and genuinely wants to do everything. sorry just felt like saying that :)

The place is a little bit dark and there’s only a few people.

“I’m nervous.” you say, following him close behind.

“Don’t be, it’ll just be us.” He gets into the square and looks at you. “I’m gonna teach you how to fight in case anyone other than me pushes you over at the skatepark.”

“Other than you?” you eye him.

“Yup.” He says while wrapping white tape around his hands.

“And why do you get special privileges?” you cross your arms.

He stops. “Because we’ve been friends since the beginning of time?”

You giggle. “That’s reasonable.”

He grabs your hands and pulls you to be standing in front of him. “Alright now hold your fists up, guard your face.”

You do as he says.

“Good,” he nods and holds his hands up, palms facing you. “give me a punch.”

“Like hard?” you ask nervously.

“As hard as you can.” he says.

You give him a solid punch. You’re not afraid of hurting him, you guys used to fist fight all the time.

“Come on, harder.” he says.

You try again.

“Harder.” he says firmly.

You hit him as hard as possible and his hand flies back.

“Atta-girl.” He smiles at you. That makes you tingle a bit. You can feel your cheeks get hot. “Now keep going.”

“Oh my god,” you exhale maybe half an hour later. “I’m tired.”

“But we’ve only gotten started.” He shakes your shoulder.

“I’m tireddd.” You whine.

“Come one darling I know you’ve got a few more hits in you.” he says. Darling? Jeno has always been charming, but never so upfront like this.

“I’m confident that I don’t.” You start to sit down.

He grabs your hands to pull you up and he nearly does but you let gravity drag you down.

“Come on get up.” He tugs at you again.

“Nope.” You shake you head.

“Come onnn.” He grabs your ribcage, ready to pick you up.

You squeal. “No no no.”

He stops. “Get up then.”

You don’t move.

“You’re asking for this.” he says before sweeping you off the ground. Jesus he’s strong.

“Hey!” you’re both in a giggling fit. “Let fucking go!”

“You’re the one with your legs wrapped around me.” He says and you freeze, embarrassed.

You unravel from him and he puts you down.

“You ready to go again?” he says.

“I told you I’m tired dude.” You groan and start to sit down again. He’s about to grab you when you roll away from him.

“You’re so lazy man.” he scoffs and plops down next to you.

“I know, I’m not ashamed.” you cross your arms over your chest and shut your eyes, the dim lights glow orange behind your eyelids.

You hear him moving next to you, then you feel something on your shoulder. Your eyes fly open to get a peek, and it’s him, laying down next to you with his forehead pressed against you.

“I missed you,” he pulls away to look at you, his face is alarmingly close to yours. “Why are you always so busy with school?”

“Because I actually want to be successful.” you joke and he rolls his eyes.

“Hey now,” he says. Wow he’s handsome. You always knew that he was cute, but in the last few years he got all tall, his voice dropped, and his figure got insane. Sometimes you catch yourself staring at him a little too long whenever he comes over to swim. “I don’t want to go home. Can I stay at your place?” He overlaps your ankle with his.

“Yeah,” you agree. “You wanna go now?”

“Sure,” he leaps to his feet and holds a hand out for you. “I didn’t really get to teach you much though.”

You adjust your shirt. “We used to fight all the time, I think I have enough practice from that.”

“You were pretty good.” he picks up his backpack. “I’ll never forgive you for shoving that clump of dirt in my mouth.”

“You deserved it alright.” You follow him to the car.

“I did not!” he argues.

“Telling your best friend’s crush that she likes him is a perfect reason to get a clump of dirt in the mouth.” You hop in and buckle your seatbelt.

“I’ll get you back one day.”

Jeno drives with one hand. The other is always out the window or on the gear shift. You secretly wish his free hand was on your thigh though, and you’ve been thinking that for a couple of years now.

He plops down onto your bed as you put your purse down.

“Why are your covers so soft.” you turn to find him cuddling your duvet.

You laugh and get on the bed next to him. “Let’s watch Shameless.” you grab the remote connected to your Apple TV.

“Fionaa,” he ogles.

“She could be your mom.” you remark, only a little jealous.

“I love me a good milf.” he says, making you laugh.

Your room is dark a little chilly. You’re under the covers now and getting nervous whenever you feel his leg against yours.

Get it together, why are you being weird? This is normal. But is it?

“I don’t get why she’s with him,” he sneers. “I’m so much hotter than Jimmy, don’t you think?” he turns to you.

“I’m not answering that.” you look away and he pokes your side. “Hey!’

“Come on, I’m hotter than him no?” he persists, grabbing at your side.

You slap his hand away. “I’ll kill you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” he sits up and throws the blanket off of you. “I will tickle you.”

You get ready to run away but he grabs you before you get the chance. He throws you down, scratching lightly at your ribs and pinching your sides.

You try to be angry but you can’t help but laugh. “Stop stop stop!’ he doesn’t. “Truce!”

“I’m not stopping until you say I’m hotter than Jimmy!” he climbs onto of you, knees beside your hips. You’re laughing too hard to think about it though.

“Literally everyone is hotter than Jimmy!” You yelp. “Stop it now!”

“Not good enough!” He’s still going. You can feel your shirt starting to shimmy up.

“Fine, fine! You’re hotter than Jimmy!” You exhale when he stops.

“See how easy that was?” he smiles, still on top of you. His cheeky smile fades though, and soon you’re both sitting there in silence. Your shirt is hiked up high enough to see the bottom of your bra.

You’re trying to think of something to say when he leans down and kisses you. A long, soft kiss. His hands are warm on either side of your face.

You’re too shocked to move.

He pulls away quickly. “Shit, sorry. I-” he stops. “Sorry.

He’s about to get off when you grab him and crash your lips against his. He catches himself and melts into the kiss, his hand finding your bare waist.

You pull away from him, breathing embarrassing heavily.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” he says softly.

You frown. “You’re so corny.”

He rolls his eyes. “You really have to ruin every moment huh?”

“This isn’t a moment,” you argue.

He cocks and eyebrow. “You sure? I’m on top of you and you’re half-naked.”

You tug your shirt back down. “I am not.” He pouts. “See, you just lost torso privileges.”

He groans. “So bossy.” then dips back down to kiss you.

You’ve made out with people before, but with him it just feels so different. Maybe it’s because you’ve wanted it for so long. He smells like Prada and his lips are like velvet.

He kisses hungrily. To be honest, most boys do, but it doesn’t feel like he’s starving, it feels like he’s savoring you.

He pulls away and goes for your neck, kissing you like you’re made of glass.

You slither your fingers underneath his hoodie. “Take it off.” you say and he complies, throwing the garment on your bedroom floor.

You flip him over onto his back, desperate to get a taste of his skin.

You trace every bone and every muscle on his stomach and place tender kisses everywhere you can reach.

He pulls you up, wanting another taste of your mouth. He grips your hips tight and pushes you down onto his hard on, earning a small gasp from you.

You can feel yourself getting worked up, that fire inside of you burning brighter than ever.

You grind down on him and he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck.” he whispers and wraps an arm around your waist and lays you on your back. He pushes your shirt up and plants kisses from your neck all the way to the band of your pants. He looks at you, asking for permission and you nod. He tugs your pants off and throws them to the side. Your knees fall together, trying to cover up.

“Hey.” he chuckles at you. “None of that.”

“I’m shy.” you whine.

He rolls his eyes. “Since when have you been shy?” He spreads your legs open and settles between your thighs.

He kisses the tender skin of your hips and inner thighs. Your heart is thumping in anticipation. His thumb skims over your clothed core and you shiver. He leans down again and you’re ready to feel something but all you get is a kiss on the edge of your underwear. You whine.

“What’s wrong?” he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes at him.

“You’re gonna have to tell me.” he comes up to kiss your neck. “Or I’m just gonna stay here,” he kisses your thigh “and kiss you until you’re begging for me.”

“When did you start to think it’s okay to tease me.” you huff at him.

He bites lightly at your soft skin and you flinch. “Come on,”

You want him so bad it nearly burns, but your ego is getting in the way.

“I know you need this,” he licks a stripe up your thigh, “you’ve been so stressed about school lately. I bet you haven’t gotten off in months.”

Your knees knock back together and he bumps them open. “Come on, when’s the last time you hooked up with someone?”

“Maybe-” you start.

“The last time where someone actually made you finish.” he cuts you off.

That makes you laugh. “December I think?”

His fingers are trailing up and down your clothed core. “That’s way too long ago, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, trying your best to control your breathing. “So do something about it.”

“Only if you ask nicely.” he says.

You swallow your pride with a big gulp. “Please?”

He smirks. “Say it again.”

“Please?” you squirm.

“Please what?” he tugs at your underwear.

“Please… please eat me out.” you say softly and you see him smile.

“Your wish is my command.” he throws your leg over his shoulder and pulls your underwear to the side, like a fucking professional.

He gives you one long, gentle lick and you feel your body relax.

He kisses your thigh again before diving in and running his tongue over your clit in delicious circles. You tug at his hair and you let out a loud whine. You feel him moan against you and you let go of your grip.

“No, no, keep doing that,” he says and you give him a questioning look. “I like it.” he shines you a smile.

He goes back to tasting you and he’s so damn good at it that your eyes roll back. You haven’t felt this good in so long.

He runs his tongue over your clit over and over in waves and soon your legs are starting to tremble.

“Fuck,” you whisper and he smiles. Your thighs start to close but he pushes them up, keeping you spread and pretty for him.

You start to roll your hips onto his tongue and he moans.

You’re so, so close to seeing those stars behind your eyelids when he pulls away.

“The fuck was that for?” you complain and he laughs.

“Why? Were you about to cum?” he snickers. “Do I make you feel that good?”

“Yes,” you admit, “please keep going.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Please? Please I need it.” you beg and you watch his eyes change from teasing to deviant. He smiles and leans back down.

He’s sucking your clit when he slides one finger nice and slow into you. You gasp a little when he pushes up.

“So fucking wet.” he whispers and pushes in another.

He curls his fingers and you whine out loud.

“Fuck yes.” you say.

He turns to look at the mirror next to your bed. “Look at yourself.” he says.

“What?” you ask.

“You heard me,” he says, still pumping his fingers into you. “Look at yourself, I want you to see how good I make you feel.”

You almost cum just from hearing him say that. Since when was he likes this. This Jeno is so different from the Jeno you usually know, but this alter ego makes everything so much hotter.

You obey and look at yourself. Spread open and eager for him, taking his fingers as you should.

“Feel nice?” he comes up to give you a kiss, you can taste your juices on him, syrupy and cloying.

You nod and look into his eyes, he slaps your cheek lightly. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.” You listen and he starts to drive his fingers into you harder.

“Fuck!” you grab his wrist. “Don’t stop.”

He leans down again to get another taste of you when you start to shake.

You watch your face contort from all the pleasure when finally, you’re shot into the clouds and you’re touching the fucking moon.

Jeno kisses you again. You crave him so bad, you want him inside of you and not just because you know it’ll feel damn good, but because you want to be connected.

“Fuck me now.” you say softly.

“Really?” he asks, smiling. So bipolar. “Do you have a condom?”

You roll your eyes and reach over to your nightstand to dig through the drawer for a condom.

He tugs his sweats down and strokes his length before rolling the condom on.

He’s hard as a fucking rock and you point it out.

“I can’t help it. Nearly everything you do makes me hard, how do you expect me to react when you’re cumming on my face.” he says while gliding the tip over your pussy.

You hiss. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” he kisses your neck. “How bad do you want me to fuck you?”

“Really really bad.” You look at him pathetically. “Please fuck me,” you say. “I want you to fill me up.”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “What a good slut. You were a brat for bit but look at you, already learning to be good for me.”

Your body is still zinging from the last orgasm and you nearly cry out when he pushes into you.

“Fuck,” he growls. He’s big, just the perfect amount of big to hit your g spot with every thrust.

“You feel so good.” you whine.

“I bet I do.” he says while fucking you agonizingly slow.

“Faster.” you plead.

“Only because you’ve been good.” he starts to pick up the pace and you grab at his back, digging your nails into the ridges of muscle.

He groans and bites softly at your neck.

How does this feel so fucking good? You think to yourself as the tip of his cock brushes against your spot.

He kisses your collarbone before pounding you, holding the headboard above you for leverage.

You curse loudly and hold onto him as tight as you can.

“Touch yourself.” he tells you and you do as you're told right away.

His cock fucking you deep and your fingers on your clit make your eyes roll back for the hundredth time of the night.

“Do you wanna cum?” he asks.

You nod, desperate for release. “Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” he smiles. “Go on then, cum on this cock.”

His words finally send you over the edge. You have to remind yourself to come back to Earth as you're floating in space.

“Fuck.” he groans into your neck. He takes his hand through his hair and kisses you. “You’re so pretty.”

You blush, then blush even more because you’re blushing just because he called you pretty after fucking you like a pornstar.

He slumps down next to you then pulls your body close to his so that you’re face to face.

“Was I okay?” he asks. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I was so rough.”

You giggle. “No it’s okay, I liked it. Is your back okay?”

He turns his head to try to get a look. “I don’t know,” he flips around to show you. “how does it look?”

Your eyes widen. “Holy shit.” You touch the streaks of red going from his shoulder blades to his lower back. “I’m so sorry.”

“Is it bad?” he laughs. “Take a picture, I wanna see.”

You reach at your nightstand for your phone and snap a picture.

“Don’t kill me.” you wince as you hand him your phone.

He takes it and laughs. “Holy fuck. Guess I was dicking you down good.” he smirks at you and you punch his arm. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think I was doing it that hard.” you say, a little embarrassed.

“Nah, I think it’s hot. I can’t wait to show Jaemin.”

You punch him again. “Don’t you dare. He’s gonna think I’m a fucking psycho!”

#nct #nct smut #jeno smut

[impulsive-astrophile]

Heaven and Hell Were Words to Me

MSR | Gen | ~1.8k words

Post-“Monday”, Mulder and Scully try to heal from trauma they can’t really remember.

Tagging @today-in-fic.

Read it on ao3, or below the cut!

It starts on Tuesday.

Scully comes into the office to find Mulder already there - as had been usual until after Dreamland - looking as tired as she feels.

Despite having gotten 8 hours of sleep, Scully had woken that morning feeling exhausted. Fragments of nightmares she can’t quite remember left her stomach churning enough that she didn’t even have breakfast.

Seeing Mulder instantly calms her a little. Touching him is even better. Her hands stop shaking for the first time in hours when she finds a reason to cross the room and touch his shoulder to ask where a file is. But whenever he’s out of sight, a pit drops back into her stomach like a stone, her limbs becoming heavy with dread.

He’s gone for 5 minutes that afternoon to use that bathroom, and her hands start to shake again.

He’s gone for 30 minutes the next day to pick up lunch, and she can barely type, noting reluctantly that her resting heart rate climbs to almost double her regular resting rate and into tachycardia - hovering around 130.

It’s ridiculous, she tells herself. They’re both fully functional, independent adults who can operate without the other.

But Mulder seems reluctant to be away from her, as well; on Thursday, he proposes she go with him to get lunch (which he never does because she hates it - she gets line-rage, and he doesn’t mind picking it up for them), and she jumps at the opportunity. His hand is rooted to the small of her back the entire way there, and hers to his arm the whole way back.

When they get back, they definitely don’t clear off half of his desk and bring her chair over so they can eat right next to each other; no, they sit on opposite sides of the room at their respective desks like normal people.

But if, say, they both just so happen to regularly need to use the bathroom at the same time, coincidentally meaning they end up spending less time apart, then that’s definitely just a coincidence.

‘Intimacy through codependency’, Dana Scully’s ass.

So, when Scully asks Mulder to come with her after work on Friday, it’s for completely practical reasons.

“Mulder? Are you okay? Your neck is red because you’ve been rubbing it so much.” Scully’s voice startles Mulder out of continuing that same motion.

“What? Yeah.” He smiles sheepishly, resting the offending hand on the desk. “I guess I’m just getting old, Scully. Sleeping on the couch this week has really done a number on my neck.”

Scully nods sympathetically. “Why haven’t you bought a new mattress yet?”

“They’re still redoing some of the floor in my room,” Mulder says.

Scully frowns. “You told me they finished that on Wednesday.”

“...I just haven’t had the time?” He tries, caught. Doesn’t say, it’s not worth buying one if you’re not in it.

She lets him off the hook. “Okay. We’ll go shopping after work today.” You deserve comfort, and I’m going to see that you have it. Then, with a gleam in her eye, “after all, an old man should take better care of his body.”

Mulder shakes his head, solemn. “You’ll know how it feels when you’re my age, Scully.”

Scully scoffs, Mulder smirking to himself before feigning a return to his paperwork. She waits until it seems that he’s actually focused on it, then pulls a paper clip out of a container in front of her and takes aim.

When it hits him square in the forehead, the look on his face is worth the war it starts.

--

“24/7 MATTRESSES!” offered the kind of vibe you’d expect from stopping at a non-descript fast food joint in the middle of nowhere at 3 AM; lighting just a little too bright, music that seemed familiar yet was impossible to place, and a single employee who seemed to appear out of nowhere from otherwise deserted floorspace.

Still, they offered incredible deals on queen-size mattresses, even offering complimentary pillows and same-day delivery and installation within a mile. And, luckily, Mulder’s apartment was only a few blocks away. So, hairs on the backs of both their necks up the whole time, Scully helped Mulder choose a nice memory foam mattress, then watched his back as he paid, and was at his side as they fast-walked to the exit.

If they’d turned back, they would’ve seen that the employee vanished as soon as the door shut behind them.

--

By the time they get to Mulder’s apartment just 10 minutes later, they find the mattress neatly set in his bedframe, pillows on top, even though his front door had been locked.

“...remind me to file that place under ‘liminal spaces’, Scully,” Mulder says with an uneasy laugh.

Scully nods absently. Mulder can see the gears working in her head. Eventually, she settles on, “sheets?”

Mulder fetches them from the linen cupboard, and they get to work. Together, they wrestle the fitted sheet onto the bed. Mulder tries to help with tucking the flat sheet, but Scully gets frustrated with his sloppy corners and shoos him away to find pillowcases.

He chuckles when he returns to find the sheet tucked with military corners - he loves how much of a perfectionist she is - but shuts up when he gets a pillow to the face. Tossing Scully the other pillowcase, he makes quick work of his own, then places it on the bed and collapses.

He buries his face into the mattress with an exaggerated moan. “Oh, Scully, this thing is amazing,” he says, muffled by the foam.

Scully drops her pillow next to him with a chuckle, resting a hand on his back lightly. “Should I leave you two alone?”

Mulder heaves a deep sigh, rolling over onto his back and resting his head on a pillow. “She could never feel the same way about me,” he says, tone wistful. “No,” he puts a hand over his heart, looking downtrodden, “I’m afraid it could never be requited.”

“A shame,” Scully agrees, stifling a smile.

Mulder cranes his head up, mouth open to make a joke, but all that comes out is a pained groan. He grabs his neck as his head falls back against the pillow.

“Oh, I forgot about your neck.” Scully’s brow creases as she leans down a bit. “You okay, Mulder?”

Mulder nods, eyes shut tight.

“Well, that’s convincing.”

A few seconds later Mulder peers up at her, smiling but obviously not feeling as good as he wants her to think. Scully makes a decision.

“Mulder, let me give you a massage,” she says. When he opens his mouth to object, she continues, “my mom always used to get terrible pains in her neck from sleeping on the couch on nights where we waited for Dad to come home. I was the only one in the house she trusted to get the knots out.”

Mulder rubs his neck, considering, then nods gingerly. “Thank you,” he says gratefully.

“Any time,” Scully responds, slipping off her shoes. “If you were feeling better, I’d ask you to move. But since you’re not, I’ll come to you.”

She climbs onto the bed, kneeling behind his head.

“I’m going to support your neck with one hand, slip the pillow out from under you with the other, then rest your head flat on the mattress, okay?” She explains.

Mulder hums in agreement, wincing only minimally as she moves him around. Then, she rests her hands on either side of his neck, fingertips touching his clavicles, and begins gently applying sweeping pressure from his neck down to his shoulders.

“I’d normally use massage lotion,” Scully says, teasing, “but I doubt you keep any around the house.”

“Mm-mm,” comes Mulder’s quiet confirmation, mouth quirking with half a smile.

When she’s finished, she notices that Mulder is completely limp in her hands, apparently asleep. She smiles softly, reaching to comb the hair away from his forehead. Letting her fingers brush through his hair, she takes stock of herself.

For the first time this week, she feels steady. And it doesn’t escape her notice that it’s while she’s holding Mulder, either.

She knows she should go now that he’s asleep. But those nightmares... even just the flashes she does remember after a week of having them - cradling him in her arms, desperately trying to keep his life from leaking out from between her fingers, pleading for him - have her reluctant to leave him. To sleep, even for just one night, with him in her arms, where she could know he was safe--

Mulder fidgets in her hands, and she looks down to find him blinking up at her. “Whatever it is, you’re thinking too hard,” he teases sleepily.

“Sorry,” she says, “I was trying not to wake you.”

Scully extricates her hand from his hair delicately, moving to get up, but he grasps her wrist. “Wait. Please stay.” His voice is soft. “That was the first time all week I haven’t had any nightmares.”

Scully frowns. “Nightmares, Mulder? I’m sorry. Old ones or new ones?”

They’re both intimately familiar with each other’s nightmares, and with how to soothe one another after them. Sometimes, part of the soothing process was to talk about them - especially if they were new.

“New, I think. I remember being in pain and hearing you sound worried and scared, but being unable to help when I tried... and then nothing.”

Scully frowns once more, starting to stroke his hair again. “How can I help?”

“Stay?” He requests softly.

“Of course,” Scully says. They’d both held each other after nightmares before.

Scully scoots down the bed, settling herself on a pillow and pulling Mulder to her. Absently, she thinks that she’s glad that they’d stopped by her place before the mattress store so she could change into casual clothes.

Mulder wraps his arms around her back, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck.

They breathe each other in for a while before he speaks again. “You’ve been having nightmares too,” he deduces, sounding like he’s come to a realization, “and that’s why you’ve been tired and just as clingy as me this week.”

Scully sucks in a breath, nodding.

“Old ones or new ones?”

“New,” she confesses. “But this is supposed to be me comforting you, not the other way around.”

“We can do mutual comforting,” Mulder assures her. “How can I help?”

She holds him tighter, feeling the rise and fall of his torso between her arms and the soft huff of his breath across her neck. It’s enough to know he’s safe, alive, and well. She squeezes him briefly. “This is enough.”

#first thing I've written in 2 months #feels good #I hope y'all enjoy! #msr #The X-Files #fic #hurt/comfort #nightmares #cuddling #monday

[prettyboybarzal]

Dancing with Our Hands Tied

Pairing: Pierre Luc Dubois x Reader

A/N: this is a multi-part fic for PLD!!! we all simped over him for a hot minute and i decided to capitalize on it because i mean......... look at him. so, enjoy a little enemies to lovers trope w/ one of my favorite frenchmen. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!! and thank you to @bandgirlsclub​ for all the help w/ my lil writers block. love u bb. she elevated my dialogue so much. if you don’t follow her, please go follow her now. and then enjoy chapter one!

Word Count: 2.6k

Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pierre didn’t like you because you didn’t like him and no one disliked Pierre Luc Dubois, especially in the city of Columbus. He was a legend. He was the star player, the future of the Blue Jackets. Everyone loved him, except you, so he hated you.

The feud started during his rookie season. He marched into the city of Columbus with his shoulders squared, his head held high, and his ego the size of Nationwide Arena itself. On his very first night out with your friend group, he’d gotten you kicked from a club after starting a fight and then poured his entire drink down your back as you waited for Ubers on the curb.

Out of frustration, you ended up foregoing the car to walk home, despite the protests that came from the other boys. And Pierre laughed as you walked away, amused by the liquid stain on the back of your favorite going out shirt.

No apology ever came, and that was a wrap on any potential friendship with him.

Three years later, nothing changed. Though these days, as Pierre’s comfort around you rebounded, he didn’t avoid you and instead made it his job to antagonize you whenever you were around. He made comments about your outfits, flirted with your friends that had clearly been told to steer clear of him, and fucked up your drink orders whenever he bought rounds for the group. Mostly, you took it in stride with a few choice curse words slung his way, but over time you started to antagonize him right back.

“Asshole at three o’clock.”

It took a moment, but your eyes followed the metaphorical clock of the bar and fell on the group of Blue Jackets pushing their way through the crowd. Leading the way was Pierre sporting a cocky smirk on his lips. He made his way around the group of girls, hugging each one before reaching you and ultimately opting not to say hello and just head for the bar. As soon as he stepped away you were making retching noises with your mouth.

“Back at it again, I see,” Josh Anderson spoke as he wrapped his arms over your shoulders. “You two would get along really well if only you tried.”

“I don’t want to try,” you responded. This earned the laughter of their other teammates, Seth and Boone, as they sat in the open seats at your bar top and joined the conversation that had been on hold for hugs hello.

When Pierre returned to the table, he was toting a tray of drinks. One by one, he placed each glass down with its rightful owner until the last two remained. And then he placed a Shirley Temple in front of you.

“It’s virgin.”

“Just like you,” you spat. While the table erupted in laughter, you stood to get a drink of your own. Preferably one that was heavy on the liquor.

---

Despite everything else, going out with him wasn’t all bad because after a while he just got distracted. He would slink away from the group and find himself surrounded by a bunch of local university students and you were free to enjoy your night without him chirping in your ear. While Pierre and Seth scouted the bar for hot single girls, you stayed back at the booth with your girlfriends, Josh, and Boone.

Drinks flowed as easily as the conversation, as usual, and up until about 11 p.m. there was nowhere else you’d’ve rather been. Until Charlie texted you.

“Uh oh, Chuck’s at it again.”

Josh was peaking over your shoulder.

“Would you stop being nosey?” you growled, angling your body away from him so he couldn’t read your texts—most of which were ‘u up’ texts. “And stop calling him Chuck. It makes it sound like I’m sleeping with a father of three.”

“You might as well be,” Boone said. He dodged the rolled-up napkin you sent his way with a chuckle.

The boys always liked to chirp you for your taste in guys, but Charlie was by far their favorite to make fun of because of the eight-year age gap you shared.

“Remember when YN would stay out past midnight?” Boone mused.

“Yeah, I do,” Josh sighed dreamily. “But then she got wifed up by a silver fox.”

“A silver fox?” you asked, trying your hardest to suppress the grin on your lips. “He has black hair.”

“That’s because he probably dyes it.”

More giggles fell from their mouths until you glared at them and their mouths snapped shut.

You met Charlie on a dating app and while things hadn’t progressed past that one night of dinner and drinks, you didn’t mind the casual sex that resulted from it. It was exactly what you needed at this point of your life—no strings attached.

I just called you a car. Should be there in 10 minutes.

You took the final swig of your drink and stood. The boys’ eyes followed your movement, knowing smiles on their lips.

“I’ll see you guys later this week, yeah?”

You said your goodbyes, ignoring the last-minute jabs the boys wanted to get in, and began to search the bar for Seth. You spotted him at a table across the bar with a gaggle of petite girls and Pierre by his side. The moment you looked over at them, Pierre caught your eye.

You started walking over as he checked the time on his watch. 11:45 p.m. You never left before midnight.

Seth opened his arms as you approached and you folded into them as you said your goodbyes. Something about the interaction had Pierre turning away to talk to the girls they’d met. It was the same pit in his stomach type of feeling he got whenever you were around, whenever you embraced the other boys with a quick peck on the cheek or laughed at one of their shitty jokes.

He heard you say your final goodbye to Seth and your shoulder brushed against his back unknowingly as you avoided saying goodbye to him. He almost let you go unbothered, but his need to talk to you just once more was overwhelming. At the very last second, he turned and caught your elbow.

“Who’s got you running off before midnight, Cinderella?”

“It’s funny you think you deserve an answer to that question,” you growled, pulling your arm out of his grasp in disgust. He leaned back against the table with a smile. Your eyes flickered to the girls behind him, one with a glare set on you as she sipped her drink. 

A lightbulb went off above your head.

You stepped forward, squeezing yourself between Pierre and Seth’s bodies to get a word in with the girls around the table. 

“Can I offer you all some free advice?” you asked, even though you were going to give it to them anyway. “This one,” you spoke, nodding to Pierre. You dropped your voice to a whisper and the girls inched forward to catch your words. “He’s been around the block, if you know what I mean. I’d make sure he wraps it before he taps it. Who knows the last time he’s gotten tested?”

You slipped out from between the boys, ignoring the curses that fell from Pierre’s lips as you walked away.

---

You left Charlie’s at 7 the next morning. Although you tried not to make a habit of sleeping at his apartment, there were some nights that you ignored the voice inside your head. You dressed yourself in the outfit from the night before and stepped into his bathroom to check your make-up and fix your hair before allowing the world to see you in all your one night stand glory.

Last night was one of the worst nights you’d spent with him. He was off from the moment you got in the door to the moment he fell asleep after finishing. You ended up completely unsatisfied and if you hadn’t been as tired as you were, you probably would’ve gone home to bring your own self to orgasm since he so clearly couldn’t.

As you shut his front door behind you, another door in the hall shut. You looked up to see which neighbor had entered the hallway and immediately felt your stomach drop.

“This? This is the place you ran off to last night?” Pierre was standing at the next door over. He looked astounded, eyes flickering between you and the door you’d just come out of. “You’re fucking my neighbor? Isn’t he like 40?”

“You live here?” you asked, eyes wide as you took in the sight of Pierre in front of you. His hair was still messy from sleep, but he was dressed in his Blue Jackets workout gear and on his way out the door.

“I moved in at the beginning of the season,” he answered. He stepped forward and you stepped backwards in response. “But you wouldn’t know that because you didn’t come to my housewarming party.”

You didn’t think he was serious when he extended the invite, and you were almost positive your response was along the lines of ‘I’d never step foot inside your house.’  

With a scoff, you turned and continued down the hall. He was hot on your heels the entire way to the elevator and slowed to a stop to wait beside you when you pressed the down button. You were surprised when he didn’t immediately start digging deeper about your night. He was more preoccupied with whatever was on his phone than you, thankfully, though you were certain once he had you in the enclosed space of the elevator he’d start prying.

When the doors of the elevator finally opened, Pierre stepped in and held his hand out to keep the doors open for you. You stayed put.

“I’ll wait for the next one,” you said stubbornly, crossing your arms over your chest. He let out a dry laugh, eyes rolling before grabbing your arm and pulling you into the confined space with him.

The doors shut.

“You’re fucking dramatic.”

The elevator began its descent to the lobby and, all the while, you could feel him watching you.

“Can you stop?” you spat, shooting him a glare from the other corner of the elevator.

He studied you for a moment before asking, “Quiet in bed?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you quiet in bed?” he asked, slower this time, like you were too stupid to understand what he said before. You couldn’t find the words to answer, jaw ajar as your brain tried to catch up to his question. “I’m only asking because I’m pretty sure Charlie and I share a bedroom wall, and his place was completely silent last night.”

“You’re a pig.”

Pierre chuckled, satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten out of you, and continued talking, “Unless he can’t get you off.”

“Familiar with that problem, huh?”

“Not in the slightest,” he answered.

“As far as you know,” you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. The last place in the world you wanted to be was with Pierre in this elevator and you wanted him to know that.

“Not that you will ever get the chance to experience it yourself, but I know my way around the bedroom,” Pierre countered easily. Too easily. 

“Mmm,” you hummed, “I’m sure, what, with your body count in the hundreds probably. Statistically, you would have to have gotten at least 50% off.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know how many girls I have in my bed every week,” Pierre grinned, his ego oozing out of his every word.

“Not even a little bit,” you sighed. Your fingers came up to your temple as you tried to rub away the migraine that was beginning to take form. “Where you put your dick is of no concern to me, unless you decide to put it in a blender. Then, and only then, will I give a shit.”

“See, I think you care an awful lot more than you let on, princess,” Pierre said. Your face twisted in disgust at the pet name. “And I think that no matter how much you want to hate me, you really don’t. You’re just jealous that I’m not fucking you.”

That pushed you over the edge, the ounce of patience that you had left in your system had been blown to pieces with that comment. 

“Would you pull your head out of your ass for once in your life, Pierre?” you spat. “I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten foot pole, much less your filthy dick. My sex life is none of your god damn business. Actually, scratch that, my life is none of your business. I only put up with you because we run in the same group of friends, so don’t try and get cute with me. If I had things my way I would never have even met you, much less learned your name.”

Pierre opened his mouth to speak, likely to try and counter everything you had just said with a dig, but you held your hand up to silence him. 

“We don’t have to like each other, Pierre, but you don’t have to be such a raging asshole about it. I thought at some point you might get tired of being a complete dick but your endurance is impressive, I’ll give you that. So listen to me carefully when I tell you I want nothing to do with you.”

The elevator stopped at the lobby and you made a beeline to the front door of the lobby to begin your walk home in silence. Beautiful, peaceful, Pierre-less silence.

---

The silence didn’t last long. 

You were halfway through your skin care routine when your phone rang, piercing through the otherwise quiet apartment. Across your home screen, your sister’s name flashed over a goofy photo from New Years.

“What do you want?” you asked after swiping to accept. Your sister’s face filled the screen with a fake offended look on it. You giggled. “Listen, Sadie, the only time I’ve heard from you since you moved back to school has been because you needed me to do something for you.”

“Okay, well,” she started. You raised your eyebrows at her in amusement. You knew this was coming. “It’s not really me who needs something.”

“Which one of your friends needs something then?”

“Mom,” she said with a laugh. Confusion flashed over your features, so she continued, “My friends are all going home next weekend and I decided I’d do the same because why would I want to be here without them, right?” You nodded as she rambled on. “But when I told Mom I wanted to come home, she told me that her and Dad are going to be out of town.”

“They’re going away?”

“Yeah, and she doesn’t want me home alone.”

You laughed out loud. It was so typical of your mom to not trust Sadie to be home alone for a few days. She turned 21 months ago and yet she still wasn’t trusted by your parents. You couldn’t say you blamed them. Sadie wasn’t exactly the most responsible. 

“Stay at school then.”

“See, I was gonna do that,” she trailed off. “But she already bought me a plane ticket to see you.” Your jaw dropped, but you closed it at the sight of your sister’s apologetic face. “I’m really sorry, but on the brightside, I can finally party with you and all your boy toys! Especially the French one you hate so much,” she said his name in a French accent, “Pierre Luc Dubois, or whatever his sexy ass name is.”

And that was exactly what you were worried about.

#pierre luc dubois fic #pierre luc dubois story #pierre luc dubois imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #dancing with our hands tied fic #mk writes #hockey fic #hockey story #nhl story #nhl fic #columbus blue jackets fic #columbus blue jackets imagine

[clearlynotjanus]

Loceit Week Day 3: Wine/Chess Teaser/WIP

This one's a little rough at the moment so I'm considering it a WIP despite all the plot beats being there. I anticipate having to go back & edit a substantial amount of the phrasing but enjoy what I have of it for now! This was A LOT of fun to write. I had to learn so much about Chess to feel confident writing it & I hope it shows! I based the match they play on Grigory Serper vs Ioannis Nikolaidis' The Immortal Sacrifice Game. Click through to see it played out & analyzed by an amazing Chess Youtuber!

Anyway enjoy this teaser! & as always, if you’d like to be on my tag list to be @’d in works like this as well as my fic related stuff, give this linked post a like or send me a message. If you have any questions or suggestions, my ask box is always open! If you would like to get the rest of this fic early access, please consider subscribing to my Patreon. If you’d just like to support my work or request a writing commission, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi. Thanks so much for being an awesome audience 💛

CW: SFW sexual tension, wine Word Count: 5033 Genre: Gen Rating: Teen Ships: Loceit

Taglist: @robertdownerjr @dangitsbrightinhere @iamuncomffy @bimtrimmerr @catalinaacosta @evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn @dragonfander @virgilstarantula @a-rudethude @poptartsaysurloved @serpentinesomebody @the-dead-and-the-decaying @vexelore @the-snekwhisperer-world @whatishappeningrightnow @sanderssidesangsttrash @trash-bastard @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626 @cosplayhanna @edupunkn00b​ @wouldntyou-liketoknow

“Well,” Janus concluded before finishing off his wine in a big gulp. “If he’s going to ditch me, I’m not going to do him the service of talking about him all night,” He said with exaggerated contempt, pouring himself more wine. “I know it isn’t quite rescuing Thomas from financial disaster,” Janus continued as he turned & topped off Logan’s drink. “But what would you say to a game?”

“A game?” He questioned, slowly bringing the nearly over-filled glass to his lips for a delicate sip. “I suppose that depends on what genre, though I can’t imagine your choice would be dull.” 

Janus grinned impishly. “Splendid,” The word was almost melodic as he departed the kitchen. Logan blinked & followed blindly before realizing Janus meant for them to sit in their usual spots at the table.

Without more instruction, Janus reached behind himself for a square box that leaned between the bookshelf & wall. It only took Logan a moment to realize what was happening as it was placed on the table & opened.

“Ah,” Despite himself, a small smirk curved his lips. “Are you sure you want to challenge me at Chess?” Confidence radiated off Logan suddenly as he settled in his chair. It was utterly inconceivable to him that any Side could even come close to checking him, let alone claiming an outright victory. 

“Well I figure,” Janus started, eyes focused on the task of setting up their pieces, “Monopoly & Clue are no fun without others, & I’m not quite in the mood for anything trivia based tonight, so,” He finished with a one handed shrug, meeting Logan’s eyes innocently as he took a long sip of his glass.

“I don’t think you should take this so lightly,” Logan warned in a smug tone that made Janus’ stomach warm with anticipation. “The last time Remus & I played, he swallowed his own Queen to keep from being checked again.”

“You know that hardly means anything, he’d swallow pieces for less,” Janus chuckled & Logan joined after a moment. “But don’t worry about me,” He comforted slyly as their laughter ended. He propped his elbows up on the table & folded his hands beneath his chin. “I can hold my own.”

“We will see about that,” Logan promised as adjusted forward in his seat. He gave a small movement with both hands, gesturing at the board. “White moves first.”

Janus smiled lopsidedly, gave a curt nod, & began the game. From the start, his aggression was obvious even if his face & body language said otherwise. With slow & soft hands, he moved three pawns forward, already beelining for Logan’s side of the board as he maintained a neutral expression. Logan’s movements were direct & calculated as he prepared both of his halves with two forward pawns & a defensive angle from his Bishop. Unprompted, Janus brought forward his Knight; Logan blinked & paused before meeting Janus’ eyes & mirroring the move. 

“Hm,” Janus hummed brusquely. He placed his other Knight on guard in front of his King.

“Hmm?” Logan mimicked, drawing the sound out as a question. He placed his other Knight in front of his Queen.

“Nothing,” He sang quietly with a sudden offensive move from the Knight Logan had assumed would remain defensive on his King. 

Preemptively Logan moved a pawn to set up his own attack. Janus paid no mind as he enlisted his Bishop forward. Another black pawn. Janus’ other Bishop. Carefully still playing for both sides of his board, Logan moved an opposite pawn again. Cryptically playing in the center of his, Janus went forward with another of his own pawns.

“You really shouldn’t play like that,” Janus reprimanded, breaking the surmounting tension that Logan only noticed with its absence. He leaned back in his chair, crossing an arm as he took a long sip from his glass. The edges of Logan began to go pleasantly fuzzy & the warmth in his stomach grew into a gentle hunger. “It never ends well,” Janus waved at the board.

Logan cleared his throat & reached to relieve the dryness there with his wine. Janus’ playstyle was nearly as chaotic as Remus’, he mused, but even with a neutral expression, it felt far more purposeful. What that purpose was seemed to be going right over Logan’s head. Perhaps he was giving Janus more credit than he deserved with that thought, though this was the Side that had planned their swap in April which led to an undeniable win in that discussion. Logan pursed his lips & nodded at the board.

“Let’s continue.”

Janus chuckled & splayed his fingers, welcoming Logan’s turn; which was to capture Janus’ intruding pawn with his own, only prompting Janus to quickly do the same as though that was exactly what he had been expecting Logan to do. Pawn for pawn, Logan sighed & pressed his Queen forward. Janus Castled his Queen into the corner.

“Told you so,” He whispered like a song & Logan narrowed his eyes. The harsh expression made Janus smirk despite himself, only making Logan’s frustration grow.

Firmly Logan moved his pawn forward, forcing Janus to retreat his Knight. On the offensive now, Logan attacked knowingly with his own Knight. Janus’ brow twitched as he stared at the board’s new arrangement -- did he see it? Logan watched apprehensively as the wine-greased gears in his head turned. He was one move from Check via his Knight. After a moment that passed fast enough to convince Logan Janus knew exactly what he was doing, his eyes lifted. His expression was taunting & entertained as he deliberately slid his Queen forward one space, conceding before the mess unfolded.

Logan sighed heavily with loose cheeks & leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms. Janus laughed genuinely, delight filling him to the brim.

“We can stop,” He offered while knowing Logan would never accept a forfeit like that. In response, he scrunched his face mockingly & reached for his wine, nearly polishing the glass off. Janus held up his hands, surrendering the suggestion. “Your move then, darling.”

Impatiently Logan assessed the board before sitting up & hastily shifting his pawn forward, making room behind the piece. Janus completed his defense around the right half of his board by bringing his Knight ahead again. Preparing for another attack that may have been too daring, Logan pushed his Knight back, instantly clearing a line for his Bishop which now stared directly down the barrel of Janus’ grouped pieces. He inhaled slowly.

“Your move,” Logan taunted with a smirk as Janus paused.

continue reading

#loceit #janus x logan #sanders sides #tss fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #fic teaser #loceit week

[demigodreading]

The Boo Crew

SVU FALL BINGO! This covers the Trick or Treat square for @storiesofsvu​‘s bino. Full of Rolivia fluff and another chapter for my Ella Alina Benson Series.

Characters: Olivia Benson, Amanda Rollins, Ellan Alina Benson (Original Character), Noah Benson, Jesse Rollins, Billie Rollins

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Amanda Rollins, Olivia Benson x Daughter! Original Character

Warnings: Fluff!

Summary: Ella is getting older now and is trying to enjoy as much of the “college experience” as she can... but there is one thing that she can’t seem to get out of her mind. Trick or Treating with her family

Word Count: 1886 

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

Noah had been begging Olivia all morning to get into his Spiderman costume. No matter how many times Olivia protested telling him trick or treating was still hours away, Noah insisted that he had to put it on right away. Liv knew that by the time they did go out for the evening it would be covered with any arrangement of the arts and crafts they had for the day and the spaghetti she had planned for dinner. But finally, she just couldn’t take it anymore. When the words alright flew out of her mouth Noah was already halfway into his bedroom to get changed. Olivia braced herself against the kitchen counter letting out a large sigh as the baby monitor in Bille’s room started to go off. 

She reached down, gently putting her youngest daughter into her arms. She kissed the top of her forehead welcoming her from her afternoon nap. Just as Billie had settled down Jesse ran into the room. Olivia smiled at her young blonde daughter as she crossed her arms across her chest. She already was beginning to look exactly like Amanda. It always came out the most when she was about to be sassy.  As Jesse cocked her head to the side, Olivia prepared for Mini Amanda to begin talking.

“Momma,” Jesse began.

“Yes, my love.”

“Why does Noah get to put his spiderman suit on? I want to put my princess dress on!” Jesse asked and then curled her lip into a pout.

“You know Jesse that is a great point. Why don’t you go put your dress on and then we can start making all of those cool pumpkin decorations you wanted? Sound like a plan?” Olivia replied conceding that it was easier to let both of them run wild.

Jesse entangled her tiny limbs around Olivia’s legs, “I love you Momma!”

Olivia returned the sentiment as Jesse rushed out of the room as quickly as she entered. As her bedroom door shut, Bille let out a small babble. Olivia looked down at the grinning child, “Hey, I told your mom I would try to keep them out of their costumes. I tried...for exactly two hours. I think I deserve some props.”

Billie merely gave Olivia a small smirk, “You know she could have helped me but she is out with your sister getting a last-minute costume for this big party she is going to. So it is just me and you against the hooligans for the moment.”

Billie smiled at Olivia and reached her hand up towards Liv’s cheek. Olivia took the tiny hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. Once she had changed Billie and got her settled in a ghost Halloween onesie, they walked out into the living room. Noah was kneeled down on one knee in front of Jesse with everything but his mask on for his costume. In Jesse’s right hand she had what she deemed her magical fairy wand. She gently tapped each one of Noah’s shoulders with the wand declaring him the knight to her kingdom. As Olivia watched she couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

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

Ella huffed as they left the third costume store with only two pieces of her costume for the evening in hand. Amanda stifled a laugh as they clambered back into Ella’s Subaru. Ella scrolled through her phone looking for another place they could go to find what she needed after turning her Halloween playlist in the background.

“You know if you had just gone to the store with the rest of us we probably could have found everything that you were looking for,” Amanda told her as Ella finally place her phone in the cupholder.

“I had an exam that day and hockey practice,” Ella reminded her, “Plus Noah would have tried to convince me to be another superhero again with him this year.”

“Oh come on hun you looked great at Storm last year.”

Ella smiled at the memory of holding Noah’s hand walking down the streets of New York knocking on every door with him. Jesse had been attached to Ella’s hip with her large purple jack o lantern candy bucket too young to be walking around on her own. It was one of the many pictures she had hanging up in her dorm room. Olivia and Amanda brought up the rear of the party pushing Jesse’s stroller that was full of all the surplus candy they were collecting. For as long as Ella could remember it was a  tradition for the whole family to go trick or treating together. Except for this year. This year was the year Ella was going to the most popular Halloween party at her university. She was determined to make friends and not be stuck sorting out candy with her younger siblings. 

However the more she thought about it the more guilt started to rise up. She was going to be missing Billie’s first Halloween. All for a party that she wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a part of. As if reading her thoughts Amanda placed her hand gently on top of the one Ella had clutched around the gear shift.

“You know it is okay to want to go out and do your own thing for Halloween? You are almost done with the college experience. Live it up while you can.”

Ella sighed, “I know, Halloween is just my favorite time of year. It is one of the only times that we are all together.”

“Well if you change your mind you are more than welcome to come. You know we would love to have you,” Amanda smiled, “But I will remind you though that your mom is going to throw a fit if you go out in that outfit tonight.”

Ella laughed, “It’s a warmer October than usual! I am almost twenty-one. She will be fine. I’ll make sure I cover up if I go out with y’all”

“If you say so,” Amanda giggled, “I love you Ella.” “I love you too Mom.”

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

Over an hour later Ella and Amanda were making their way through the front door with a large bag in hand. As they entered the living room Ella couldn’t help but laugh. The large foldable table Olivia had set up was covered in various colors of glitter and paint. Billie was in her rocker silently watching the show but Noah and Jesse were making their presence in the home known.  They giggled excitedly showing their painted hands to the two newcomers. Their costumes were covered in spots of paint and patches of glitter. Olivia looked up from her craft with a sheepish grin, her Shego costume already on.

“Welcome home my loves,” Olivia said standing from the table, “Would you like a pumpkin to decorate? The kids each left you one.”

“But you have to be in a costume to participate!” Noah pointed out.

“Oh and who made that rule?” Amanda asked, eyeing Olivia skeptically.

“We did!” Jesse smiled, causing Amanda to laugh.

“I tried babe. I really did,” Olivia sighed.

“Oh I know you did. They actually are covered less than I had thought,” Amanda replied, kissing her wife, “I’ll go get change and join the festivities.”

As Amanda disappeared down to her bedroom Noah turned to look at Ella. She smiled as his curls bounced around his face. When he finally calmed down he asked the question she was dreading the most, “Are you coming trick or treating with us?”

“Please sissy!” Jesse chimed in.

The two of them together were a dynamic duo that always seemed to get their way. Before Ella could answer Olivia tried to reason with the two, “Loves, don’t forget that Ella is a lot older. She might not want to go out with us. She could have her own plans with her friends.”

Noah’s lips curled into a pout as he looked at his older sister, “Please Ella. You are gone aaalll the time. We just want to be with you.”

Ella did her best to contain her tears as she looked at the curly-haired boy in front of her, “Of course I can come but only to help you get candy. Then I have to go hang out with some of my friends but I’m sure Mom and Momma will help you both sort it.”

With a loud cheer, both of her siblings launched themselves into Ella’s arms. Olivia merely smiled from her spot at the table trying to contain her excitement. She wanted Ella to get the full college experience but nothing beat all five of them together.

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

“I remember this neighborhood from last year,” Amanda told Olivia as she adjusted the shirt on her Kim Possible costume.

Olivia laughed pointing at a large rose bush that was two houses in front of them, “I sure hope you do because you spent five minutes puking in that rose bush. One kid… I think a pirate almost puked on his mother when they walked by us. She was so mad.”

“Hey! In my defense, I was seven months pregnant,” Amanda said shoving Olivia with her shoulder, “But I am talking about the picture we took before that whole incident.”

Olivia knew the picture well. It was still the lock screen of her phone. All of her kids dressed up holding hands. It was her favorite. Well besides the wedding picture that she kept as her home screen photo. She linked hands with Amanda as she looked at a similar scene unfolding in front of her.

“I think we need an updated picture.”

“Think they will notice?” Amanda asked reaching for her phone.

“Nope, just do it before Jesse decides that she has to give us fifteen different photos and Noah hides behind Ella.”

Amanda and Olivia paused momentarily so she could focus the camera. Walking in front of them Ella had Billie tucked against her hip. Billie’s Tigger costume was a stark contrast to the dark angel costume her older sister wore. Large black wings sprung from Ella’s back. Her arms were covered by a light long-sleeved shirt and she wore a long black skirt that dragged slightly on the ground behind her. Attached to her other side was Noah whose Spiderman fingers were entangled in hers. He had decided to forgo the mask claiming that it was too hot so his curls sprung in every direction. Next to him, Jessie was holding his hand letting his Marvel pillowcase hang in the air between them. Her purple dress sparkled under the dimming light and her crown was cocked to the side. In her other hand, she held her Rapunzel pillowcase full of candy and her magical fairy wand. Amanda took a series of pictures and then turned to kiss her wife. 

“Look at our babies.”

Olivia smiled taking the blonde’s hand as they kept walking, “It’s so nice having them all together.” “We did good Liv. We did good.”

Olivia nodded and then looked at Ella again, “That’s not really what she is wearing out tonight is she?”

Amanda let out a large laugh, “Oh god no. She is basically wearing her undergarments to that party.”

Olivia let out a large sigh before shaking her head, “They grow up to fast.”

“I know my love. I know.”

#storiesofsvufallbingo #svufallbingo #trick or treat #halloween vibes #amanda rollins #olivia benson #rolivia #rolivia fluff #established rolivia #ella alina benson series #baby benson series #ella alina benson #noah benson #billie rollins #jesse rollins #I just imagine all the cute little kid costumes and I melt #I want kids so bad #it is a problem

[write-starlight-riots]

The Handle and the Blade.

When Loki is brought into the TVA’s hands after starting the nexus event at Lamentis-1, Mobius tells him he wants to help cut him from the TVA’s tracking methods. Literally.

Content warnings: Mentions of blood, and usage of knives.

-

Hello, hello. This is part one of two on @idontcareaboutcanon and I's collaboration. This is also one of my first works, so please be kind.

Glitch's half is going to be a comic, I won't tell you what it is about, that's a surprise. They told me they would release it in a few weeks depending on their workload, so enjoy this in the meantime.

“By the way, I deserve an equal amount of security, this is insulting.”

“You just can't help yourself. One blink and you’re gone.” Mobius had opened the door to a smaller room, much smaller than the interview room they had been in previously. “Let him go.”

The hunters gripping Loki’s arms had retreated. Loki glanced at him with an unsure look. Mobius gestured inside with a rolled up newspaper.

The room smelled dank, unlike the usual pristine scent of the rest of the TVA’s headquarters.

Loki made a look of disgust. “I’m not going in there.”

“You’re so prickly when you get caught. Just take a seat.”

“What, are you going to show me my death and scare me into giving you answers again?”

“Oh, I already know the answers.” Mobius helps himself into the room, sitting at the singular table that had been squeezed into the room. He gestures to the other chair.

“What do you mean by that?” The hunters grab Loki’s arms again, prepared to force him in.

With an annoyed noise, Mobius waves them away. They listen promptly. “Just sit down, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

After a second of looking around, Loki sits. The door automatically closes behind him. Mobius seems to change, like the demeanor was a facade for in front of his coworkers.

He watched as the other examined the door. “Is there a reason you chose a room so.. gloriously spacious?”

“I didn’t need to use a projection this time. That, and this was the only space Ravonna would give me.”

It just genuinely seems Mobius had shoved a table into an old batch of lockers. Hunters’ numbers were rubbing off the name plates.

“Oh, and you did last time?”

“Listen, you were as stiff as a board. You wouldn't-”

“And you thought that would loosen me up?”

“Well, it worked, so.”

Loki’s face drops, it seems reminiscent of an irritated pout.

“Hey, look at me,” Mobius reached for the other’s arm across the table, but pulled back at the last second. Loki obliges. “It was either this or to prune you the second you stepped into the facility.”

“..Fine. Ask me your questions.”

“I actually don't need to.”

Loki sighs and rolls his head back. He had his arms crossed defensively. “Then why am I here?”

The gears in Mobius’ head were visibly turning, like he was debating whether or not to say something. “The TVA has been tracking you, Loki.”

“...Excuse me?” Loki pulls his head back forward. He glances at Mobius with a suspicious look.

“I want you to feel behind your ear. They do it for every variant that comes in.”

Loki doesn't move for a while. Then, he sighs, and rubs the pad of his finger behind his ear. He finds a small square-shaped bump underneath the skin. His face changes.

“You know how I said I already know all the answers? That's why. It's a microphone, tracks everything you say.”

“Another intimidation tactic? After you told me you wouldn't?” He puts a faux-offended hand on his chest. "I can't trust you.”

“Do you want me to prove it to you?"

“You can certainly try-”

“I remember your cute little analogy on Lamentis-1. What was it? Love is..” He opened his suit jack and pulled something from the inside pocket. “A dagger?”

Loki instantly stiffens upon seeing it. He stays quiet for a moment. “What's the point of all this, Mobius?”

“The point is, I want to help you.” Mobius stands and flips the dagger, so the handle is pointed toward Loki. Loki stares at it for a moment.

“How?”

He then takes out a swiss army knife from his pocket. “I can cut it out so the TVA can't track you anymore.”

“I thought you were /with/ the TVA.”

“Take the dagger, Loki.” He steps to where Loki was sitting, kneeling and pushing the other’s face to the side by his chin. Loki makes a surprised noise. “If I make a wrong move, feel free to let me know.” He says as he guides Loki’s arm over his shoulder while the dagger pointing against his back.

“This is position is quite compromising-”

“Did you want me in your lap instead?” Mobius gingerly pulled Loki's hair away from his ear.

Loki snuffs, temporarily amused. “I’ll take anything but that.”

Before he does anything, he pulls out his tempad and sets it on the table. “Also, if you really wanted to, you could kill me, take my tempad, and run off again.”

From the second the offer was made, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Loki repeatedly glancing at the device.

“Now, I’m not gonna tell you this won't hurt.”

“What a way to point out the obvious-” Loki sucks in a wincing breath as the first cut is made. The other felt the pressure of the dagger’s tip on his back.

There's a moment of silence between them, Mobius’s thumb pressing against the cut to help control the bleeding.

Then Loki speaks up. “Speaking of.. my analogy, what all did you hear?”

“A little this, a little that. You were drunk so it was hard to figure out what exactly you were saying.”

“I wasn’t that drunk- Ow!” Mobius had made a cut across the skin covering the device. He felt the tip of the dagger pierce his suit jacket. “Warn me next time if you would!”

“Fussing at a few small nicks, what happened to the oh great and powerful Loki?”

“I don't fuss at anything."

“Then what was that all about, asking me to warn you?”

Loki pointedly doesn't answer, it makes Mobius chuckle. “Is there anyone else who can hear what I say?”

“Ravonna specifically assigned me to you, so I'm the only one.”

Mobius grabbed his chin and forced his head back to the side. “Stop moving.” The dagger definitely let him know that Loki did not like that. His lip tightened in a sour wince.

Loki stopped looking at the tempad after a while, and chose to study the part of Mobius’ head he could see. There was a small T-shaped scar behind Mobius’ ear.

“So is that why you’re doing this? To cut off the leash?”

“I mean, technically. She gave me full control of your case, including your person. Here’s your warning.” He uses the knife to pry the device out.

Loki’s hand found itself on Mobius’s forearm, instead of using the dagger, he squeezed his hand around tight. He heard Mobius whisper quiet affirmations to him. There was a quiet tink sound next to his foot.

“There we go,” Mobius stomped on it, making sure it was destroyed, and stepped back a little. “and we’re done.”

Loki retracted the dagger. “No stitching?”

“Wounds heal themselves here, it’ll just leave a scar I think,” Mobius slipped the tempad back into his pocket. “Thanks for ruining my favorite jacket, by the way.”

“You should have thought about that before handing me a weapon.”

“At least you didn't stab me in the back.” He muttered a ‘not literally, anyway’ under his breath.

“Oh, believe me, it was quite tempting.”

“Of course it was.”

When the banter died down, they fell into a tense silence. Loki was examining the dagger. “Mobius?"

The other turned his head back to Loki, he hummed a question.

“I’ve… rethought my analogy. I was wrong about it.”

#loki #lokius #loki series #loki disney+ #mobius m mobius #agent mobius

[letters-unsending]

could you do a snippet where villain turns themself over to the heroes awaiting a punishment, but instead the heroes care and nurture for them as if they were a hero themself? and that villain is always on edge for any attacks or punishment but never receives any?? I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW FMRNFN :00000

I wrote three separate versions before landing on this and I still don’t know if I stuck the concept all the way. The on-edge part didn’t show up as much as I wanted to, but this is as far as my words will go lmao. Tried to do it justice <3. Ty for your submission!

////

“Hey, you okay kid?”

Hero scooted a glass of water over the desk. At the movement, the teenager shriveled into his seat, clutching at his arm. Blood blotted the shoddy bandage-work on his bicep.

“We can get you to the nurse first dude.” Hero said, peering over at Villain. In the leather interview chair, his figure appeared swallowed, bone-slight in a belted, black uniform. His hair hung messily over his brows and tangled over flighty eyes. They’d dealt with his arm in a hurry on the way over, but Hero was sure he had more injuries.

“No, I’m fine.” It was the first sound Hero had heard out of him, soft and shaky. Villain let go of his arm and reached for the glass, but found his fingers stained with blood. Hero offered him a napkin for his plight.

“Okay, I’ll make this quick so we can get that fixed soon.” He reached into his drawer and pulled out a thin folder. “All turned in villains are evaluated by certain criteria: their past crimes, acceptance for rehabilitation and future plans.” Hero revealed a single paper. It had Villain’s bust, name and listed his associates. A few, sparse lines at the end were dedicated to his short-lived stint of crime.

“It shows here you worked under Supervillain for most of your time and followed instructions to accompany Villain B. You helped for a little over a year before deserting and turning yourself in. Can you tell me why?” Hero rapped his fingers over Villain’s information, watching as Villain rubbed the blood off his nails. His eyes started to flutter about in his lap.

“They made me hurt people.” Villain crumpled the bloodied tissue in his hand. “I wanted it to stop.”

“So you turned yourself in?”

“I couldn’t live normally,” Villain muttered, “I didn’t deserve it.”

Hero stopped his tapping. “And what do you deserve?”

“They said you’d punish me for what I’d done.” Villain reached with his clean hand to grab the water and hurriedly took a sip. “Won’t you?”

Hero didn’t answer and frowned down at the young Villain. His thin, shadowed face made him seem mature, but he was barely out of high school. A naive boy was a perfect underling for Supervillain’s crime ring. They were malleable and had rubber spines, making them easy to form into an obedient mold. He’d seen many youths fall into that path.

“What do you want to do after?”

“Make it up to them.” Villain mumbled, squeezing the lip of the cup. “They didn’t deserve it.”

Hero closed the folder. “And you have plans for that?”

Villain froze. Some of his fingers fell into the icy water. “I don’t know..”

“You don’t?” Hero leaned forward into the desk. “I’ll let you think it over at the nurse. We don’t punish minors with tiny track records like yours, so you’re out of luck, but we can help you make up for what you’ve done. You’re still a kid. You’ve got plenty of time to figure things out.”

////

Hero sat beside Superhero in the shade, fanning himself with his hand.

“So he accepted the trainee program?” Superhero asked, inclining his head to the sparring teenagers. A small, dark figure flitted between a dozen other kids, fast and agile.

“Yeah. He moved to the dorms yesterday, though he still was half-convinced we were gonna lock him in the basement.” Hero frowned. The case at Villain’s side had carried only a few belongings. He learned he’d bounced between foster homes for most his life and finally ended up on the streets as easy pickings for Supervillain’s posse.

After the lesson, Villain trotted up to him. He looked a bit disproportioned in Hero’s old training clothes. The grey shirt sagged off his shoulders over the pair of ratty, black joggers Villain still had with him — they were obviously a size too small, exposing a large portion of his shin. His forehead was a bit sweaty, but Hero knew this practice had been nothing to him. Supervillain’s training regimes were far more tortuous.

“Good job today.” Hero moved to ruffle his hair, but Villain flinched away.

“Sorry, my bad.” He smiled sheepishly before handing him a square package. “Here’s your uniform and dorm supplies. The Organization provides everything.”

“Thanks.” Villain’s fingers tightened around the box.

“I’m glad you’re here kid.”

////

There shouldn’t have been anyone in the center.

Hero swung the key ring on his finger as he strolled down the hall. A single training unit was still in use. The blue room light shifted through the square window and onto the opposing wall, flickering occasionally as a body flashed past the door.

It was 1 A.M. He muffled a yawn into his hand and dragged his fingers over the recognition pad, overriding the room’s current ownership. The seal on the door cracked open and Hero slipped inside.

“Hey, facilities close at 12.” He called out, but found himself drowned out by the groan of the main training tower. The machine whirred in an ever-shifting mass of attack arms. Drones buzzed above it, swooping down at a stumbling figure, their red singe-lasers indicative of a very high onslaught mode.

He recognized them instantly: that torn, black uniform and messy hair. Villain wasn’t wearing the protective gear. His fist slammed straight into metal and the mechanism swiped at his small body. The drones burned straight to his skin. As he tripped to the left, Hero saw the shredded state of his shirt and a cruel hint of the damage beneath.

Hero kicked through the secondary barrier and slammed down the stop button. Drones plummeted to the floor and the swinging arms snapped back into the interface. Villain sagged into the padded ground, breath billowing through his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, rolling to his side as Hero approached, “I know.”

Hero crouched down, but gave him his space. He watched his back rise and fall. The shifting fabric revealed red, pitted welts and bands of purpled skin through the rips and gaps of his old combat uniform. There was so much more hidden.

“Why are you here kid?”

“I’m not good.” His body shook. “I’m not supposed to be a hero.”

Hero sat on the floor with his legs crossed. “People choose to be heroes, [Villain.]”

”I already made that choice. I became a villain. The things I did, they were selfish and cruel.” His breaths calmed but his voice became thick, painful as the words tangled from his lips. “I don’t deserve these chances you keep on giving me. I wanted a punishment, not a reward for everything I’ve done.”

“[Villain], this is your punishment. It’s difficult to do the right thing. It’s difficult to sacrifice yourself to a society that will give nothing in return.” Hero leaned on his palms, blinking into the overhead light. “Your pain won’t heal over the pain you’ve given. It won’t right your wrongs.”

“And I think you’re a good kid, [Villain.] You’ve done such a good job.” Hero helped the silent Villain up. He felt his arm tremble as he grabbed it, but Villain didn’t wrench it away.

“Come on, let’s get you to the nurse.”

Wordlessly, Villain followed him out of the center and waited as Hero locked up the doors. They traveled down a shaded corridor and into the backend of the Organization. Most rooms were emptied for the night, but the 24/7 med facility still casted a bright light into the hall.

“I’ve notified the security to keep open the dorms for you. You should be fine.”

Villain’s fingers twitched at his sides. He stopped a little short of the door and Hero turned to him with a questioning smile.

“You alri-“

Villain pulled him back and wedged between his arms, wrapping Hero up in a hug too quick to reciprocate. His skin jumped at the warmth. “Thank you. I’ll try my best.”

Hero laughed and ruffled his hair.

“I know you will.”

#writeblr #writing prompt #villain #hero #prompt #hero prompt #villain prompt #writing #villain x hero #hero x villain #didnt vibe but i tried :O

[the-swedes-knees]

Human Resources - The Swedes x Reader

Did I make a tumblr just to post a birthday present for @jossambird? Yes, yes I did.

Rating: Everyone 

Pairing: Reader/Swede(pick your favorite)

It had started like any other work day at the Temps Commission. The case management room was silent aside from the rapid clicking of typewriter keys and the rustling of papers as employees cross checked their historical references. You were just another cog in the machine, expected to work efficiently and follow every rule in the handbook down to the letter.

Which is why it was a surprise when your supervisor placed the summons to HR on your desk.

"Cheryl." You greeted the HR representative coldly as you entered the meeting room. She glared at you as you went to take a seat, not even bothering to say your name. There wasn't a clear reason why she had been gunning for you the past few months but you suspected that it had something to do with the last company Christmas party. Or rather the point in the Christmas party when she had become dangerously intoxicated and you had walked her back to her living quarters instead of letting her fulfill her desires of making thinly veiled sexual innuendos to coworkers.

One might assume that kind of story would lead to a friendship, or at least a funny story to laugh about together...  

"Do you know why you're here?" But apparently Cheryl didn't think so. When you crossed your arms and shook your head no she let out a catty hiss of disapproval. "Well this shouldn't be a shock, but I've opened up a sexual harassment investigation against you."

Your face hardened and your eyes shot to the folder that was placed in front of you, identical to the one infront of her and three more like it on the opposite side of the table.

"That can't be right... who - " The end of your question died on your lips as the three temporal assassins entered the room and sat down at the table across from you. Almost in perfect unison the three tall Swedish men regarded your presence before turning their attention to the woman at the head of the table.

Axel, Otto, and Oscar. More commonly referred to as simply The Swedes. You had handled a fair number of their cases in your career, and they were certainly some of the best the Commission had to offer. They were all handsome in their own right. Strong, stoic, and silent... but you had only admired them from afar, just sparing glances in passing through the massive building complex.

You weren't sure what drew you to them, like a moth to a flame. But just those sparing glances had ruined any other romantic prospects for you.

"Thank you for coming. I'm aware how busy the three of you are, but this matter simply demands to be addressed." She said smugly before turning back to you and opening the manila envelope that was placed perfectly perpendicular to her.

"In recent case number A-96353 you wrote an extra message to the Swedes that was not approved by your supervisor. Is this correct?" Cheryl asked your pointedly.

"Yes." You admitted, squaring your shoulders a little bit more as the reality of the current situation began to dawn on you.

"For the record, can you please recount what that message was?" She asked. You took a deep breath and kept your eyes focused on her. There was an evident threat of heat creeping up to your cheeks, but if this was some sort of weird power play, you didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

"I believe I wrote 'good luck boys' on the bottom of their assignment." You admitted in an even tone.

"Is that all?"

"I may have also drawn a small heart." You said through slightly gritted teeth. "I've already received infractions for that offense. It won't happen again."

You turned your body to face the three men, and bowed your head slightly in shame. Even though you had gone through getting slapped on the wrist and mandatory behavioral classes for not following protocol, it wasn't their fault that your attraction to them had led to your immature urge to flirt on the job. Even if the flirt was hardly a flirt, and it was sent via tube with a kill order.

"I apologize, for my unprofessionalism." You said sincerely, beginning to rise from your seat to leave this waste of everyone's time.

"Well there is also the case of these little locker room comments."

"I-I don't know what you're referring to." You froze as she sifted through her folder, placing her pen on the page as she began to read a section of notes verbatim.

"He could punch me in the face and I would thank him for it." She read with as much enthusiasm as a young fast food worker making minimum wage. Your heart throbbed in your chest wildly as you stared at Cheryl in disbelief. "Does that sound familiar?"

"Yes..." You croaked out softly, all moisture seeming to have left your mouth. Your eyes darted to look down at your lap, your fingernails suddenly much more interesting than the three assassins that were openly staring at your from across the table. The sound of rustling papers caught your ears as the men began to read through the reports for themselves, but suddenly you couldn't seen to move a muscle.

There was no telling who had overheard that particular comment from the water cooler, but it was just one comment... If you could shake off this terrible sense of dread and embarrassment you could chalk it up to a simple misunderstanding -

"Time and date 0923845753: I would pay him to crush my pelvis." She continued to read from the file in front of her in a monotone voice. In potentially the dumbest reaction possible your eyes darted across the table and made direct eye contact with Axel as the comment was read. His face was unreadable, but those blue eyes pierced into you so deeply you may has well have died right on the spot.

"Time and date 0202493192: God must be a woman to make men that fine." You decided that there was no God, if there was then he or she or whatever omnipotent being they were would have pity on your soul and allow your body to combust into flames instead of sitting there.

"Time and date 0221527010: He can break all two-hundred and seven of my bones." There was no blood left in your face, you were sure of it. It pulsed rapidly and loudly through your thudding heart and directly into your ears. Your brain couldn't pick between being embarrassed or downright mortified, a violent chill settling into your bones as the startling realization settled over you... this was the end... your life was over... just because you found the three men a few feet away from you devilishly handsome and you couldn't keep your damn horny mouth shut.

"Time and date 0940251637: I would let him step on my throat."

"Oh that one was actually-" You held up a finger to correct that that particular comment was made by your friend in payroll whom which you shared a similar horny braincell, but quickly decided against it. "You know what, I'll take responsibility for all of them... there's really no need to keep reading."

"For the case of this investigations, were all of these inappropriate comments directed at an individual or a collective?"

"It was, it was um... all. All of them."

"Any one of these comments could be classified as a serious offense, and you are in clear violation of several company policies." Her words barely registered in the haze that set in around you. This was it, your life was ruined... you were dead, and this was hell, it had to be... "And if they agree to follow through, I can have you fired by-"

The sound of metal screeching as Axel stood up from his seat silenced the HR representative. All three brothers shared a quick look before Otto and Oscar stood as well, tossing the files that had been placed before them back onto the table sloppily. Otto's eyes were glued to yours as Axel slightly shook his head at the woman at the end of the table.

"Byråkratisk skitsnack." He sneered before walking past you to leave the room. You had no idea what it meant, but from the offended gasping noise Cheryl made, you were sure she did. The other two men followed their brother shortly after, Oscar making teasing kissing faces at you as he exited through the door.

What just happened?

Both you and HR sat in a moment of stunned silence, obviously this meeting hadn't gone the way either of you expected. With the Swedes gone, you found the courage and sense of self determination to look at the woman again. You raised an eyebrow and looked behind you at the doorway, silently asking if this meant you could leave.

"One more slip up and I'll file for your termination, clear?" As much as you wanted to think of a snappy comeback to the woman who had just lost all the power she wrongly thought she had, your flight or fight response was still in full gear and you suddenly forgot all that was the English language. All you did was bite your bottom lip and nod before slowly rising from the chair and returning back to work.

Curious coworkers asked throughout the day if you were alright, the sense of dread still clawing at your heart at the utter humiliation that you had received... but there was no one to blame but yourself, you probably got what you deserved for making such comments in a professional environment. You briefly considered taking a vow of silence, never to speak again in penance for your sins.

The vow ended rather quickly after Dot offered you treats from her candy stash in an attempt to lighten your mood.

Everything will go back to normal, just don't think about them... ever again... You obsessively chanted to yourself while staring blankly at the copier and munching on your third candy bar. The mechanical machine whirred loudly as it spit out page after page of references that were needed for your current case. It was so loud, in fact, that you weren't aware that another person had entered the room until you felt a sharp pinch on your ass.

You suppressed the urge to scream as you jumped back, mind now alert as you whipped around to see the culprit.

Now standing a few feet away was one of the very same men with platinum blond hair that you were trying so actively to purge out of your mind. You had never admitted it to anyone else out loud, but secretly you did favor one brother more than the others... the slight mannerisms and the way that he held himself causing many obsessive dreams on lonely nights.

And here he was... alone... the closest he has ever been.

"Hi." You greeted dumbly, not even confident enough to say his name. Your eyes flickered from the ground back to his face before holding out your chocolate. "Kit-kat?"

His face remained neutral as he reached out and broke off a section from the bar, eyeing you up and down more properly than before.

"You know my name." He remarked before biting the chocolate wafer in half and slightly gestured his chin towards you. "Yours?"

You told him, a bit surprised that he didn't seem to know it after that disaster of a confrontation. Had he not read through the accusations? Or if you were such an unnoteworthy person to him, why was he here... talking to you?

He's going to kill you, you pervert.

"Do you eat?" Just as you were preparing to plea pathetically for your life, you were instead caught completely offguard. Confusion overtook you as your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand the question.

"Eat? You mean like... eat food?" You asked slowly, mind going completely blank as you watched him pop the rest of the wafer in his mouth and chew slowly. Even with something so small, your knees were going weak at the close proximity. You shook your head gently to refocus, dangerous thoughts like these were what got you into trouble in the first place. "Um, I guess? Yes?"

"Good. Six o'clock, pervers." He declared firmly with a stony expression before turning to walk away. Unintelligent noises of sputtering and half words left your mouth as you moved to walk with him, keeping a bit of a distance as you held your copies tightly against your chest.

"Six o'clock what?"

"You eat dinner, with me. Or I step on your neck, your choice." He said casually, eyes keeping straight ahead as he spoke... almost ignoring that you were even there.

"What? Where? Why?" Even though you were trying to whisper as you paced through the hall, your voice was rising in octaves as each question left your lips with little filter. He stopped his long stride abruptly, inadvertently causing you to flinch as he turned back to look at you. The slightest ghost of a smile toyed at his lips as he stared you down like a hunter with eyes on its game. You remained as still as humanly possible as he leaned down to speak in your ear.

"I will find you."

You watched him turn around once again and strut down the hallway like a man on a mission while you stood there, mouth gaping like a goldfish. He was coming for you, that much was certain... There was no where or time that you could possibly hide from the not-so-secret item of your affection.

Should you be horny or terrified?

Both. You decided. Both sounded good.

#the swedes #the swedes x reader #tua the swedes #ikea mafia #hbd jossambird #the umbrella academy x reader #axel x reader #otto x reader #oscar x reader

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Love In Sin

Chapter 4

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing - AU Detective!Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Warning - Angst, Slow burn, Fluff, Implied Smut, Mentions of crime and drug, Swearing.

Chapter Warning - Slow Burn and a teeny tiny bit of angst.

Word Count - 2.5k+

Square Filled - Diner Food ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N - Beta'd by the lovely @deanwanddamons

Spn divider by the talented @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“How's the preparation for the party going?” Dean asked as he poked his head into the room where you were sitting on the floor, a mass of utter destruction around you.

“Woah sweetheart, it looks like you fought a war. What the hell happened?” Dean asked.

“I am exhausted, cranky and I am tired of putting up these damn streamers,” your hair was a mess, you were beyond tired and you needed coffee in your system. And you were also hungry.

“You should have called me. Y/N/N, let me help you,” Dean said and took a bunch of streamers in his hands.

“No Winchester, leave those. You have already helped me enough during unpacking. I should be able to put up a little decorations in the house. I am a special Agent for fucks sake.”

“Now I get it. Come on,” Dean said and pulled you up onto your feet.

“Where? Dean, we have the party tomorrow and I have so much to do! Ugh, who tells you to arrange a party the day after you move into a house?” you grumbled.

“Apparently the executive director of the bureau,” Dean chuckled, “And I am taking you out for a walk. You need food and coffee in you and neither of us are in the mood to cook.”

“How do you know I need coffee and food?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I have eyes, sweetheart,” Dean smirked at you, “I know how grumpy you are when you are hungry. You can’t even function properly.”

Dean was right. Food really lifts up your mood. You both went out for a walk and came across a little diner in the area. It was small but beautiful.

“One burger with fries, an apple pie divided in two and two cups of black coffee please,” Dean ordered.

“Coming right up sir,” a young blonde girl responded from behind the counter.

You and Dean took a seat at the diner.

“Why are we even arranging a party, what's the reason?” You asked.

“Just moved in, new house. A....a housewarming party?” Dean said deep in thought.

“That….sounds appropriate.”

“So it's settled then. A housewarming party,” Dean said, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Alright. Since I'm married to you, I should know some stuff about you just so I don't stutter when people ask me about my own husband. Tell me about yourself - where are your parents? What are your hobbies, other than watching the movie Die Hard on repeat?” you said.

“Hey, the Die Hard movie is a classic. You should learn to appreciate good films. As you know my name’s Dean Winchester, no middle name,” Dean smirked, “I have a younger brother, Sam who is a lawyer. He is engaged to this girl named Jessica-”

“Wait! Jessica? As in Jessica Moore? I think I know her. Maybe I went to high school with her,” you said thinking aloud.

“Small world,” Dean gave you a tiny shrug, “My parents are still together. My dad, John Winchester owns a garage and my mom, Mary Winchester owns a coffee shop near my parents’ house. My life's pretty boring. Tell me about yourself.”

“Well you already know a lot about me because apparently ‘you have eyes’,” you chuckled, “but my name is Y/N M/N L/N, I do have a middle name. I have two brothers named Michael and Gabriel, I am the youngest. My Mom and Dad are still together too. My Dad, Y/D/N works at a corporate office and my Mom Y/M/N used to teach at a primary school. So my life's pretty boring too.”

“Here's your order,” the server interrupted your conversation by placing three plates on your table, “and here's your coffee.”

The girl kept eyeing Dean. You cleared your throat as you saw him turning towards the waitress with a stupid smirk on his face. You took his hands and entangled your fingers with his, making him jump and look back at you.

“Nothing else,” you said in a cold voice surprising the girl and Dean. The girl walked away from your table quickly.

“Jealousy is a bad colour on you sweetheart,” Dean said to you in a cocky tone.

“Why would I be jealous? I am not jealous,” you replied but that was a big, fat lie. A switch had been flipped as soon as you saw that waitress ogling Dean. Maybe you were jealous.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said with a stupid smirk plastered on his face.

“I was not jealous but I think you should try to keep it in your pants if you want this cover to work,” you pointed out to him.

“Ooh, an affair, maybe it will spice things up a bit,” he winked.

“Dean,” you glared at him as he raised his hands in defence.

“So,” Dean said stabbing the piece of pie with a fork, “Any past relationships I should know about?”

“No,” You said after swallowing the piece of burger - the food was so good, “why should I tell you about my past relationships?”

“Let's see, I am your husband and I think I should know about your ex boyfriends...ex flings.”

“Fake husband. How many times do I have to remind you?”

“Okay, keep your secrets to yourself. I was just trying to make some small talk,” he shrugged.

“God you're so nosy. Fine,” you said biting into a single fry, “I don't have many ex-boyfriends or ‘flings’ as you may say, but I was in a serious relationship with a guy named Cain for almost three years but...uh-then we broke up and now he..he is just a bad memory. What about you?”

“Kinda the same. Had a few serious relationships. The last one was with a girl named Lisa. After two years of dating we realised we weren't made for each other so we broke up - it was an amicable breakup,” Dean said.

“No one night stands? Girls would kill to have a one night stand with you,” you said.

“Will you kill to have a one night stand with me?” He asked, making you choke on your food.

“W-what?” You said after regaining your composure.

“Just saying. We have the arrangement - you and I are already married. You can experience the full package if you want too,” Dean smirked.

“N-no, thanks,” you said and gulped down a glass of water. This man will be the death of you.

“So, tell me about Cain. I mean I have to live upto your expectations.”

“Trust me, you don't want to be like Cain,” you said, swallowing hard. You didn't want to speak about the topic of Cain, he was just a bad memory, no scratch that, the worst memory of your life.

“Did he hurt you?” Dean asked, his voice soft.

“No.” You looked down at your plate, suddenly finding it too interesting.

“He hurt you, didn't he?” Dean clenched his jaw.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my past relationships? It's not important to our job. We are work colleagues, let's just keep it that way,” you said and abruptly left the table and went out of the diner.

You didn't know why you lashed out at Dean like that. Maybe because you were still not ready to talk about Cain. No one knew why you guys broke up - not even your parents, but Dean was just trying to talk to you as a friend. Now he was going to think of you as an overdramatic bitch. You buried your face into your hands as you heard footsteps approaching you.

“Y/N? I am sorry for what happened back there. I-I definitely crossed a line I wasn't supposed to cross. You're right - we are work colleagues, let's keep it that way,” Dean told you, “just remember whatever Cain did, you don't deserve it.”

You looked up to him and saw him staring at you.

“Come on, let's go back to the house. We have a lot of work to do,” he said and snaked his arms across your waist, making you jump a bit.

“Just to keep the cover,” Dean whispered into your ears. You nodded but you'd be lying if you said that your heart didn't skip a beat when he pulled you closer to him.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you were interrupted by the ping of your phone, which indicated you had received a new text.

“Oh look at that. Now what does Mr. Singer need? A BBQ party in our backyard?” Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“According to trustful, internal sources, the right hand man of Crowley is apparently one of our neighbours,” you said reading the text as you saw the gears turning in Dean's head.

“So we gotta be cautious at the party. One slip, and our entire cover will be blown,” Dean said, immediately slipping into the serious work mode which you loved.

“Let's go and meet the neighbours then, husband,” you smirked at him.

“After you, sweetheart,” he grinned back at you.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Feedback is appreciated!

#supernatural #dean winchester #spndeanbingo challenge round 1 #spn #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #au dean #au fic #detective dean x reader #au dean x reader #dean x you #au dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #love in sin #jensen ackles

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

reddie 38?

38. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” - feat. figure skater Eddie and ice hockey player Richie. 

* * * * *

As the music poured through the speakers, Eddie focused on his movements as he skated across the ice, twirling and jumping when the routine called for it. Ever since he was little, being on the ice had been his dream. He had grown up watching the skaters on the TV, begging his mother and father to enrol him in classes, which they eventually did. Now, sixteen years later he was twenty one and heading straight for the Olympics.

That is, if he could master the damn double axel jump.

It wasn’t that he couldn;t do the jump, because he could just fine. It was the landing that he was having difficulty with, with every attempt it was a stumble or an ungraceful landing, which was beginning to annoy the hell out of his mother. She wasn’t even his coach, but because she was the one paying for his lessons and rink time, she believed her opinion overruled everyone else's, even his coach’s.

“Edward, for goodness sake, I’m not paying for you skate like a hippopotamus! I pay for you to skate like a swan, glide across the ice, land as though it's no effort at all! You’ll never qualify for the Olympics skating like that!” His mother screamed through the auditorium and Eddie came to a halt on the side of the rink, breathing heavily.

He looked up at his mother, who was red in the face next to his horrified coach. Normally, his mother kept her more...insulting comments to when it was just him and her in the rink, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. His coach, Maggie Tozier, whipped her head around to face Sonia, a scowl on her face. “Mrs Kasprak, if you are going to treat my skater like that I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The look on his mother’s face told Eddie that she was about to set off. She squared up Maggie and crossed her arms, “I’m the one paying for your time here, therefore I’m not leaving. If I want to give my son some tough love then I will, it’s a harsh world out there and sometimes he needs some harsh criticism so he can be better!”

“Or maybe your words will make him worse, because he won’t stop trying to please you,” Maggie snapped back, not backing down. Their arguing seemed to gain the attention of Mr Corcoran, the owner of the rink, who stuck his head out of his office and pointed to one of the private rooms away from the rink.

Eddie watched with a sigh as both his mother and his coach walked down towards the room, the door slamming behind them. Silence filled the rink and Eddie at least had peace for a few moments while they fought over the best way to teach him skating. He was just about to skate over to the music and attempt the jump again when someone from the other side of the rink called his name.

He turned around and when he saw the owner of the voice, Eddie’s cheeks turned a light pink. It was his coach’s son, Richie Tozier, who was also one of the stars of the Derry Ice Hockey Team. He wasn’t dressed in his gear yet, but his bag was slunk over his shoulder, which meant Eddie’s rink time was coming to an end. He smiled and skated over, placing his hands on the edge of the rink. “Hey, Richie.”

“Hey there, Spaghetti,” Richie grinned back, glancing around the bleachers of the rink. “Where is everyone? Not often I get the chance to speak to you alone with either your mom or my mom scolding me for distracting you.”

Eddie sighed once more, rolling his eyes, “They are arguing...again. This time it’s about the best way to tell me that I suck.” He shrugged and Richie’s eyes widened. “Not- not that your mom said that I suck or anything, but my mom? She thinks I’m a hippo because I can’t land the double axel smoothly.”

Richie blinked and tilted his head to the side, “You mean the most difficult jump in skating? You mean the one my mom only really introduced you to a few weeks ago? That jump?” He asked and Eddie nodded his head. “Damn, your mother is brutal Eds, no offence.” He smiled. “If it is any consolation to you, I think you are the best skater that my mom has ever taken on. None of the others ever made as much progress or are as half as motivated as you are.”

At that, Eddie lit up, trying to contain his smile as best as he could. He wasn’t going to deny it, Eddie had a huge ass crush on Richie, and he was pretty sure that Richie felt the same way about him. The only thing really keeping them apart was Sonia and her stink eye whenever Richie so much as breathed in Eddie’s direction. For some reason, since the moment they met, his mother had developed a hatred for Richie, even though his mother was Eddie’s coach. In Eddie’s opinion, it made no sense.

Richie was smiling at Eddie, a smile that was only really reserved for him, and he opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but he never got the chance as his mother’s shrill voice screamed through the rink. “EDWARD!” Eddie whipped his head around to see Sonia barging towards them, Maggie close on her tail. She approached Richie and jabbed one of her chubby fingers into his chest. “What have I told you, keep away from my son. All you’ll do is distract him and my Eddie doesn’t need any distractions if he is going to be a champion.”

“Get your hands off of my son, Sonia. What have I told you before,” Maggie hissed as she appeared behind them. “Richie, please go to the locker room and get ready for practice. Zack will be here soon and he’ll want you all on the rink and ready to go.”

With a sigh, Richie nodded and turned to head to the locker room. He stopped a few steps away and turned back around. “I know you don’t like me very much, and that’s fine, but you really shouldn’t treat Eddie like crap. He is a fantastic skater, and by putting him down the way you do, you’re the one most likely to distract him.” He turned to Eddie, who was still on the ice, staring at him in shock and awe. “See you around, Eds.” He winked and turned away, heading to the locker room.

Once he was out of sight, both his mother and Maggie turned to face Eddie. Before his mother could speak up though, Maggie stepped forward, “Your mother has agreed to stop attending our lessons together. In order to give you more time to focus with me on the ice. She will still come with you to your private sessions when she can though.” She smiled. “Hit the locker room, practice is over for the day and the Ice Resurfacer needs to clean the ice for the Hockey Team. We’ll work on that jump tomorrow, okay?”

Eddie nodded his head and, ignoring his mother, he skated to the edge of the rink and towards the other locker room to change. On his way there, he passed by the Hockey Team’s private locker room and happened to overhear his name being mentioned. Unable to stop himself from listening in, Eddie moved a little closer.

“You still haven’t told him? Damn Rich, this is getting insane.” Bill Denbrough spoke and Eddie could just tell he was rolling his eyes. “You come to practice early every day just so you can get a chance to either watch him skate or flirt with him until your mom...or his mom, chases you away. Just tell him and put us out of our misery.”

What could they be talking about? What did Richie need to tell him? He didn’t get a chance to think too much over it, as Richie spoke up. “Oh really Bill, and what do you suggest I say? “Oh hey Eddie! Why haven’t you kissed me yet? I’m crazy ‘bout ya!” He heard Richie sigh heavily. “We’re friends and I don’t...I don’t want to distract him. He deserves to qualify for the Olympics in the trials next month.”

Eddie didn’t stay to hear any of the rest, as he could hear his mother's voice approaching. Quickly, he dodged into the locker room and changed out of his outfit and back into his normal clothes, running a hand through his hair as he looked in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed red and a smile was threatening to appear. Richie liked him back. Richie wanted to kiss him.

As he left the locker room, the Hockey Team were leaving theirs, heading to the rink to start their practice. His mother was by the door, waiting for him and he caught Richie’s eye as they walked past each other. Then, Eddie stopped and turned back around, “Richie! Wait!”

Richie stopped and turned around, his brows furrowed in confusion as Eddie approached him. He bit his lip and finally let himself smile as he pushed up on his toes, settling his hands on Richie’s shoulders and pressing their lips together in a soft, first kiss.

Immediately, all the boys started to holler and wolf whistle, causing Eddie to pull back with a flush on his cheeks, matching Richie’s own. “Eds?” He breathed, ignoring all his teammates. “You- what?”

“Dinner, you and me, tomorrow after practice?” Eddie asked and Richie nodded, almost dumbfounded, but he finally broke into a grin.

“Pick you up at seven Spaghetti,” he winked, just as Zack Denbrough whistled for them all to get on the ice or they would be facing some serious warm ups. He backed away, unable to take his eyes off of Eddie.

Eddie bit his lip and blew Richie a kiss, getting out a giggle as RIchie jumped into the air and caught it, pressing his fist to his lips and he waved softy. “I can’t wait.”

* * * * * 

@3tothe1 @anellope @annxmatron @appojoos @are-you-reddie-for-it  @beepbeeprichiellc @bi-bi-richie @billdenbrough @bitchbrak @callmechee @dadbodrichie @derrylosers @disneyfan567 @eddiekaspprak @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @girasol-eddie @gloire-celeste @halfway-happy353 @hawkinsbabe @inthebreadbinwrites @itfandomprompts @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @kat-ships-everything @lifesucksheres20bucks @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madi-artist @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @nancynwheeler @no-she-wasnt-reddie @oldguybones @photoboothreddie @pink-psychic @purplepoisonedgem @queen-sock @ransonelovebot @rebecca-the-queen @reddie-for-anything @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster @richietoizer @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie @sashadrowned @sedanleystanley @sloppybitchreddie @sparklingrainbowdragon @spirited-marvel @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @takeourpure @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @ultrapaninibred @vanity190 @violetreddie @virgo-luthie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead  

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #prompts #writing tag

[descendantofthesparrow]

Harry Hook x Sparrow!Reader - oneshot - WICKED

These are very similar requests so im just smashing them together!

random-thoughts-and-spoken-words 

Hi! I love all of your stories, they’re so well written and amazing! So, I have a request. Could you do a short little thing about the reader being in the end of the first movie, but she chooses to be evil, and goes back to the Isle for Harry, who’s really happy she’s back. Then could you end it with a week passed and Ben sends men to ask Harry and the reader back over? You could add Gil and Uma to that list too. If you can’t do it, that’s fine. Love all of your works!!

@random-thoughts-003​

could you the reader choosing evil at end of first movie, for Harry and because she truly evil. she goes back, rejoins old gang, Uma’s crew. creates chaos more than before, kidnaps Ben. When core four try to say she’s good, she purposely almost kills one of them. in third movie, she doesn’t make it past the barrier and has to wait for Harry and Gil. when they come back, prepared to live out their days, they find Reader somehow got even the worst villains to give up their territory and let the crew steal their things. the sea three get to the ship, the crew was 100% better fighters. when the barrier is taken down, Harry tries to convince reader to come, but she says she’s waiting for someone. Thinking she’s cheating on him, he stays there to see who she is meeting. Turns out it’s her father Jack Sparrow and they plan to make the Isle into the modern Tortuga. Harry walks over and Reader introduces him to her father as boyfriend. later on, when he confesses he thought she was cheating, could you end it with her “Oh Harry, I may be evil in my soul, but I’d never go so low as that.” (They started dating at the beginning of second movie.)

How dare they, they would just…UP AND ABANDON THE REST OF THE ISLE?! Rotten to the core my ass.

You snarled, turning away, pausing as a hand fell on your shoulder. “(y/n) is good too! You have no ide- AH!” your arm flourished out, a gleaming switch-blade in your hand, slicing at Mals arm.

“get away from me you traitor” you growled, glaring down at the purple-haired fae, who started up at you in shock, holding her sliced arm close to her chest.

“wha-wh-(y/n)?” Evie stuttered, grasping Mals shoulder and pulling her back “what's gotten into-“

You snarled, turning and walking out of the cathedral. Ben and Evie raced after you, calling your name “(y/n)! wait!” Ben yelled, you huffed spinning around and crossing your arms.

“what do you need princey?” you drawled “I have an isle to get back to” Ben tilted his head in confusion, bless his soul, good intentions, but poorly executed.

“why? Why would you want to go back to the isle” he asked, genuinely curious, evie was frowning, looking concerned.

“I left assuming my friends would join me after everything, but since that didn’t happen, im going back, im not abandoning them.”

You spun on your heel, stomping off and making your way to the limos, snatching a bridge remote, you paused, groaning and walking to the dorms, for once happy that you had a room all to yourself, grabbing all your gear and stuffing it in a bag.

You snatched your compass and hat, fixing the tricorn on your head and hefting your bag over your shoulder, heading back to the limos.

You unlocked one and tossed your bag in the back, ripping off the flags and the hood ornament, pocketing it and making your way to the driver's seat.

“(y/n)!” you paused, looking back, pup, the shorter boy trotting after you, dude running after him.

You sighed, leaning back on the car “what do you want pup” you muttered, a sneer on your lip.

He stopped a few feet in front of you, slightly out of breath “you don’t know how to drive, ill take you” you stopped, staring wide-eyed at him.

“Carlos the fuck” you muttered, “you’re coming back with me?”

“no” he shook his head “no im dropping you off, I understand why you want to go back, but if you go alone someone could get that remote and leave the isle, we both know there are some people who deserve to be on the isle.”

You slowly nodded, you might be evil, but you weren’t heartless, and beasty boy had been trying to right the wrongs of his father.

You sighed, walking around to the passenger side and opening the door, plopping down and nodding to Carlos “well, im not waiting all day!”

He beamed, sliding into the driver's seat dude hopping in after him and climbing into the back, head peeking through the sliding window door.

You slid down into your seat, watching as Auradon passed by in a blur, turning into the ocean as a golden bridge built below you.

=

You gave a salute to Carlos as he nodded back at you, turning the limo around and driving back off the isle. you breathed in, looking to your right, the large metal tube leading to the docks letting the smell of the ocean into the old garage.

“home sweet home” you muttered, squaring your shoulders and walking through the tube.

You smirked as you saw the common folk walking around, some fishing some simply just sitting in the cloud glazed sun.

“(y/n)” a thick boyish accent came from your left, you spun, a smile breaking through your lips as you spotted the boy you had missed so much.

His ocean blue eyes were glazed with surprise, the line of fish he was holding dropping to the deck, his mouth gaping open.

“yer- yer back! I thou-Oof!” he wheezed, tumbling back when you charged at him and rammed into his torso, wrapping your arms around him and holding on tightly.

He caught himself on a barrel, chuckling as he hooked his hook on his pants belt loop, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling your neck. “I've missed yeh lassie” he muttered, hand reaching up to cup the back of your head “when did yeh get back?”

“About five minutes ago”  you mumbled, leaning heavily into him, pouting as he tugged your shirt to pull you off of him.

“well, glad ta have yeh back lassie” he patted your cheek, spotting your bag behind you. He picked ti up and slugged it over his shoulder, giving you his arm and leading you to the chip shop.

“LOOK WHOS BACK!” he hollered, the patrons looking up with glares, looking back down quickly as they spotted you.

“(y/n)!” the crew yelled, uma coming out from the kitchen and smirking.

“there you are, I knew you wouldn’t leave us behind!” you grinned, breaking away from Harry and leaping towards Uma and colliding into her.

“I would never” you chuckled, rubbing your cheek into her head “im not like the traitors” you pulled away, tensing as you prepared to be tackled by the crew.

Which you were.

The rest of the day was spent taunting the tv which showed the after party of the coronation. And a rowdy party for your return.

=

You hummed as you walked the allys of the isle, harry next to you, arm around your shoulder. Ben stepped out from the ally, blinking surprised as he locked eyes with you.

“(y/n- AH!” Ben let out a yelp as Gonzo and Bonny jumped at him, gagging him and tying his wrists together.

“let's go beasty boy!” bonny cackled, her and gonzo dragging him away, you hummed, patting Harry's back as he swaggered forward to taunt the traitors.

You leaned on the wall next to you, flipping out your switchblade to pick your nails.

A few moments later harry reemerged, once more wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you back to the ship, talking about how pups' hair was weird and Jay had lost his touch.

=

Hours later, you stood next to uma, eyes scanning Mal, Evie, Carlos, Jay, and Lonnie. Carlos held the wand, handing it to mal as harry brought ben forward.

“hol’ up!” uma called, mal pausing in handing the wand to uma, and harry stopping ben in his tracks. “too easy, we wanna see it work!”

Mal swallowed harshly, eyes flashing about “you always were quite the drama queen” mal sneered, looking behind her at dude.

Uma nodded, rolling her eyes, “oh and nothing too big or ben is fish bait!”

Mals' eyes flashed with worry, she turned, waving the wand about “although it may seem absurd, turn your bark into a word!” nothing, dude just blinked at her.

Uma turned to you, rolling her eyes. Mal let out a nervous laugh, growling at dude through her teeth “talk dog!”

“Does this vest make me look fat?” you blinked….alrighty then, dude could talk. So the wand was real…hopefully.

“give me the wand!” uma yelled, reaching for it, mal stepping back and pointing to ben.

“give me Ben!” she yelled back, you huffed, waving Harry forward. He pushed ben to his knees, sword ready to swing.

As uma took the wand, you watched as mal hurried to rush ben and the others out….and jay guarding a barrel of swords.

…it was a trick.

You snarled, watching as nothing harped as Uma cast the spell. “NO!” she screamed, snapping the fake wand on her knee “YOU DO NOT GET TO WIN EVERYTIME!” she turned to the crew.

“GET ‘EM!” in the corner of your eye you spotted Carlos whip out a slingshot, shooting gloves filled with a colored substance.

As the hit, they exploded into smoke. you stumbled back into harry who tucked you into his side and covered you with his jacket. You growled, unsheathing your sword and bolting forward, slicing at mal, who hardly had time to doge.

You nicked her neck, she stared at you in shock, yelping as you spun around and sliced at her legs, she jumped back, Ben grabbing her arm and running towards the tunnel that leads to the old garage.

“(y/n) please, we know you're better than this come back to aura-AH!” you leaped forward growling as you thrust your sword at his chest, ben falling back in fright.

“don’t you dare try, im bad to the soul, and I ain't comin’ back” you blocked a swing from Lonnie, the black-haired girl swallowing in fright as she locked eyes with you.

You huffed, pushing her back and kicking her stomach, dodging a stab from Carlos.

“ ‘Scuse me pup” you smirked, disarming him and gripping his wrist and flipping him around and slamming him to the ground.

--small time skip--

You screamed, throwing your sword to the ground, watching as Mal walked away. “UGG! OUT OF MY WAY!” Uma pushed past you and Harry, ducking into a shortcut to the garage.

You seethed, walking back to the ship, slamming open the door to yours and Harry's room, screaming as you slammed your fist into the hanging withered punching bag.

“lass, please calm-love” Harry walked in after you, watching as you tore up your fist punching the cracking old leather on the bag.

“AHHHHH” you let out a harsh scream “IT'S NOT FAIR!” you collapsed to the floor, Harry dropping with you and cradling you in his arms.

“Hey, hey” he cooed “it’s okay love, uma will find a way, well get off this hell rock” you sniffed, letting Harry's thumb brush away your tears.

“I know, we will” you muttered, cuddling into his chest. Harry picked you up, laying you on your bed. He shucked his shoes off and plopped next to you, tugging you into his chest.

“take a nap love, yeh need to have a rest” you hiccuped, burrowing into his chest and closing your eyes, slipping into a fitful nap.

=

You sighed, watching as Harry and Gil jumped through the barrier, smiling softly as Harry turned back and mouthed ‘ill be back for you’

You nodded, twisting around on your heel.

You had some jobs to do while they were gone.

=

Harry sighed, watching Auradon disappear from the limo window. At least he would be going back to (y/n). as he stepped out of the limo, Uma, and Gil following him, he noticed something odd.

The isle seemed…cleaner? Uma stepped next to him, spinning around in a small circle.

“what the fuck happened?” she muttered, a confused look on her face. “its…. I don’t know how to describe it?”

“ ello cap’n” harry grinned spinning around, bolting towards you as his eyes locked onto you.

“(y/n)!” he laughed, throwing his arms around you and picking you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. “gods I missed yeh”

“you were only gone for two days” you chuckled, running your hand through his hair, the other resting on his neck “but I missed you too”

Harry set you down on your feet, uma crashing into you “miss ya girl” you laughed, patting her back “missed ya to captain”

You broke away from her, leading them back to the ship. The three looked around, the usual big villans hulking around were yet to be seen. “look whos back!” a thick Scottish accent came from behind, an arm wrapping around Harry's shoulders, tugging him into their side and rubbing their knuckles into his head.

“how yeh doing lil’ bro? enjoying the life of a hero?” harry groaned, ducking under Harriet's arm.

“shut up Hettie” he muttered, pushing her away “where is everyone, not two days ago Frollo was screaming his ‘ead off just right there”

Harriet smirked “yer little girlfriend took over the isle, even scar and eq bowed under her heel” uma, harry, and Gil blinked in shock, looking to (y/n) who just shrugged and continued to walk to the ship.

Umas jaw dropped as they arrived, the crew was sparing together, and….they were a lot better than the last time she saw them.

Gonzo side flipped, avoiding bonny downswing, spotting uma as he twisted around to block a stab from Desiree.

“CAPTAIN!” he yelled, the crew yelled out with him, dropping their swords bolting down the gangplank and eagerly greeting uma.

“you’re back!”

“We missed you!”

“yer mas food is so shitty without ya!”

“cap'n! I dyed my hair, ya see!!!”

“I got a tattoo!!”

“I pierced my tongue!”

Uma rushed to rub her face, tears burning at her eyes, and here she though her crew dropped her as soon as she failed at cotillion.

You grinned, gesturing for gil to lift uma on his shoulders, as he did so uma let out a yelp a tear slipping down her cheek.

“whats her name!?” you called out, the crew sounding her name with resonance.

“UMA!”

“now lets party!” gil beamed, parading around the ship with uma on his shoulders, the crew rushing to grab the treasured rum and candy.

=

“lass come one, what are yeh waitin fer” Harry held out his hand, one foot crossing the barrier to Auradon.

“someone” you muttered, looking towards the ocean, but to harry, you were looking back towards the isle.

‘is….is she cheating on me?’ his heart hurt, after a year and a half of dating, you were just going to betray him like that.

Was it because he helped save Auradon??

“well,” he muttered “im waitin’ with yeh” you gave a shallow nod, not really listening.

An hour later, long after the freed vks and some villains had crossed the bridge. A certain ship appeared in the distance. You stood from your spot on the stairs, harry standing with you a heavy from on his face.

As the ship docked against the isle, harry felt confused….the person you were waiting for wasn’t even on the isle?

“DAD!” hol up wha-….HOLY FUCK JACK SPARROW?!”

“darling!” the now old pirate opened his arms, jack the monkey(who hadn’t aged in the years he had joined your father after Barbosa died) screeching in excitement, bouncing on jacks shoulder.

“oof” jack laughed as you collided with his chest, wrapping you in a tight hug.

“lass?” you turned a bright smile on your face, holding out your hand.

“harry! This is my dad, dad meet my boyfriend, Harry hook!” jack gestured for Harry to come close, holding out his own hand.

Harry grasped Jack's hand, gasping as he pulled him in for a hug.

“Good ta meet you lad, thank you for making my (y/n) happy all these years”

“so” Harry pulled back, looking from you to jack “why are yeh here”

“we’re turning this place into the new Tortuga!” you grinned, spinning around, arms wide open “pirate and sailor paradise!”

Harry laughed, “sounds awesome lass…oh was that why yeh took control of the isle?” you nodded.

“yep, couldn’t have Jafar or something try to take over”

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “look lass, I need ta apologize fer somethin’” you tilted your head, raising your brow.

“for wha’?”

“I though ye were cheatin’ on me…when yeh said ye were waiting fer someone” you laughed, stepping close to Harry and hugging him.

“aw hookie, I may be evil, but I would never go as low as that~”

Harry snorted “I know, im sorry”

Jack smiled, looking around at the isle.

“master gibbs! I think its time to start fixin up this dump”

“aye captain!”

---the end---

I got this request back in January!! At least the longer more detailed one, forgot when I got the short one, but since they are VERY similar, I just mushed them together, thanks for reading and waiting!

#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine