#i am now Full Of Energy and Loopy As Shit

[mxaxwx]

7-21-23

It's late at night and I'm in a bedroom with my mom and sister. I discover that I'm able to do a thing where I hold up an empty blender as it fills magically with water until it overflows. I show this to my mom. Something about it feels really dark and upsets me. I take a sip of the water from the blender and look in the mirror and my eyes look dark. This upsets me.

Later, I am with my parents in their bedroom. I sit with them on their bed and try to explain the blender thing to my dad. I explain it in a very disturbed and desperate manner like I want some sort of help with it but it doesn't look like they can help me. After a while it's late and my mom is kind of drunk and acting loopy so I get her away from me and have her go lay down.

I lay down in my parents’ bed with my eyes closed and my palm stretched out toward the ceiling and practice focusing the energy of my hand as if to project it out like a beam. I fall asleep and wake up later still in their bed and realize that I should go to my own room in order to continue doing this. I consider trying to write something in the ceiling of my room using this method.

Sometime later my eyes have gone dark, fully black (at least my right one has). My mom can't remember what color my eyes used to be, which is a little upsetting to me, but then I realize I can't remember what color my sister's eyes are so I understand, though it still makes me a little sad...

.

I see part of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie where the turtle Raphael shows up and does some dance for some kids who may be prominent characters in the movie. I imagine being there while he's doing it and wanting to know that power. At some point there’s a close-up of his face as it changes shape and I try to pause it in an interesting spot in order to take a screenshot of it...

----------

I'm with my mom and dad on their bed in their bedroom in the dark. My mom finds some sort of object in the ceiling fan or something. My dad says something about a large animal that's in the room and I see that it's a bison. It's dying and he lets it into the bathroom so that it can spend its last moments in there alone. Shortly afterward it comes back out and lays down next to me, which I knew it would do. It lays against me and tells me (without speaking) that it will “arm me to the teeth” then dies shortly afterward. I feel very connected to it and know that this means that it will be a sort of “war steed” for me in the afterlife for some battle. This feels very right and I take comfort in it and find it very exciting.

Afterward I tell a friend, who is now in here with us, about this and show him a picture of the dead bison laying across the head of the bed. I also find it meaningful that the bison seems to be looking up toward something on the wall, like maybe a mounted bison head.

My friend is now sitting with my mom, dad and I on their bed. He pulls out two big joints and hands one to me. We talk about psychedelic drugs. He says that they're boring and I add that you should try to do something stimulating while on them and he agrees. He hands me one of the joints. It's large and filled with a cold, wet, pink, fleshy material. I ask him what it is and he says something about a man named “Don Dollen”. We start smoking and pass it around and both my mom and dad have some.

My mom says something about a person approaching and we are now in something like a government meeting in a large municipal building while everyone in attendance is turned around and looking up at us from their seats while we try our best to get out of there. As we leave, more people start to flood out of the building. We're told that the fire alarms went off, then there's panic as we hear that there's a fire (caused by us?). Everyone is now running and cops are after someone and I run out into the night while I hear a female cop talk about how people who rat-out others are “causing danger” and are full of shit...

I'm out on my own now in the dark running up something like a concrete drainage ditch on a large grassy embankment near the highway. I can see a thin layer of dark water in it...

----------

It’s night and I'm out riding bikes with some people who may in some way be associated with a martial arts gym. We're headed to a stadium to see some kind of animal show. I’m out in front as if leading. After a while I look back and don't see the others around anymore and think that I may have passed the stadium...

.

It’s a dull sort of daylight now. I'm out walking and I come across a famous professional fighter and congratulate him on his upcoming fight. I'm very cordial with him and tell him I think he'll win very easily.

I go into a McDonald's. It's crowded inside and the lines at the front counter are very long. A young male cashier announces to the crowd that they're out of certain ingredients.

I sit at a table with a disabled man and someone else who may be a sort of caretaker for him. After a while the disabled man draws me a message on a piece of paper with crayons that says that he's horny and I get disgusted and leave...

I'm in a stadium during a baseball game as it is ending. I leave just before everyone else does...

I go to the house of someone I know. In the yard are two people who I don't know very well and their baby. I talk to someone about how my roommate does psychedelics with people he hardly even knows, including married women, which seems somewhat inappropriate to me.

A couple arrives in order to sell something. I hang out in the yard with the woman who lives here. The man of the couple compliments me on the big yard and well-groomed Christmas/fir tree that's planted here—apparently assuming that I own the place. He tells me that those trees actually get bigger when trimmed and I concur...

#dreams

[variablejabberwocky]

okay this is out of nowhere but i fell down a myth research hole and landed in music on youtube. ANYWAY, i've noticed a difference between when dudes sing 'ghost riders in the sky' and when ladies sing it

the dudes are all 'BRO YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT KICK-ASS SHIT I JUST SAW' about it, while the ladies are all 'i am going to make you have FEELINGS about this, probably sad ones'.

like the lyrics are (mostly) the same but the tone, holy shit.

so far my least favorite was supposed to be from a country band but was actually a fairly heavy 70s rock band doing a heavy 70s rock cover of a country song. mostly didn't like it for the overuse of vibratto. like dude i know you wanna sound like Johnny Cash but this ain't helping you. also kind of...changes the whole point of the song to be all SICK YEAH DEMON GHOST COWS AND SHIT LET ME RIDE THAT COOL TRAIN WITH YOU when like...the lyrics are about warning a dude to cut his shit out or he'd be left with the devil setting him on a sisyphean task for the rest of eternity

which is probably why im liking the ladies versions of these better because pretty much all of them i've listened to so far are singing in ways that enhance that message instead of...completely missing it if not counteracting it. like this one i listened to nearly had me in tears before the first stanza was done. and the whole reason i looked it up in the first place was Red from OSP sang it in the end of one of her videos and she's got a really good singing voice.

thankfully some dudes seem to get it and also go for that "OH SHIT BRO WATCH OUT" tone

#i have been a little bit on the hyperactive side today #allergy meds have not helped with that #i am now Full Of Energy and Loopy As Shit

[yazthebarbie]

Alewife

draco malfoy x reader 

(based off of the song alewife by clairo) 

it was your duty to take care of your childhood best friend. you knew all he went through and knew you were his safe space. when your mother gets ill things begin to go downhill for you, but you keep up appearances as to not worry draco. eventually, you break. 

(reader is slytherin, can be based in whichever year you’d like, very angsty but w kinda fluffy ending!) (this is also the first imagine i’ve written in years, and the first i’ve written on this account. so i apologize if my writings’ a bit rusty or there’s some errors.) words: 1.4k 

tw: lots of tears, cussing, anxiety attack, mentions of self harm (hitting, scratching) 

-

With tired eyes you watched your companions goof around and gossip about the latest drama. It wasn’t just the Slytherin table with positive energy that day, the entire Great Hall was bustling with energy. Nothing in particular was going on, but it just seemed like life was going great fro everyone. Maybe it was because winter break was coming up, or for once their school wasn’t under attack from the powers of some evil. But either way, everyone was happy. 

Aside from you.

Every so often you would give a half-hearted laugh at the occasional joke, or nodded when someone asked you a question. But lately it was getting harder for you to keep up the act. Inside, you were tired beyond imagine. Ever since your mother had fallen an ill to a mysterious unknown illness a month ago- life had taken a dark, dramatic turn for you. She wasn’t getting better at all. Each time you received a letter from her, it seemed her handwriting got shakier and her normally precise letters were loopy and falling off the lines. It was clear something was desperately wrong but there was nothing the healers could do about it. They didn’t have to tell you, you knew that your mother didn’t have much time left to live. Every little part of you hoped that somehow she’d be able to pull through the rest of the year so you’d be able to enjoy the winter and summer holiday with her before anything drastic happened. 

The sound of deep laughter felt like music to your ears. Draco was messing around with Blaise and Theodore, all of them in a stitch of laughter over something you weren’t sure of and couldn’t remember. 

Lately, Draco seemed to be beaming. With you by his side, winning the latest Quidditch game, and Potter not being smothered with attention for once, he was very content with the way things were going. You admired the way his platinum blonde hair messily rested at his ears, shaping his face nicely. His jawline was sharp and accentuated from the angle you were facing him at. The rosy tint to his cheeks complimented the paleness of his skin. Every few minutes he would squeeze your hand, a good sign. Seeing him happy, made you happy. Even if it was for a second. It was extremely rare seeing him smile so much in public, you didn’t want to ruin that for him and burden him with your issues. 

Your beloved snow white owl, Hydrangea, dropped a letter in front of you. Straightening your back with a smile, you picked up the thin envelope with excitement. You hadn’t expected mother to respond this quickly. 

As you began to read, your originally joyful expression became crestfallen. Your face twisted and it looked like you were in pain. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Daphne asked, noticing your face first as she was sitting across from you. Her question caused the rest of your nearby table mates to divert their attention and look at you, including Draco who sat at your right side. 

You swallowed, eyes flickering to Draco nervously before cracking a small smile, “Yeah I’m fine, my stomach is killing me with these cramps, though.” 

The response seemed to satisfy everyone’s nosiness and they went back to their mindless chatter. Draco, however, looked at you strangely. That boy knew you like the back of his hand and he wouldn’t fall as easily for an excuse like that. Part of you hoped he didn’t remember you had already had your period last week. 

“Speaking of, I have to go to the bathroom,” You faltered, shakily getting out of your seat. Before anyone could ask anymore questions, you were already out the Great Hall. The speed walk pace shifted to a full on sprint as your feet carried you through the Slytherin common room and into your dorm. 

Everything was happening all at once. Thoughts, worries, fears- all violently shaking and interrupting each other. Reality didn’t seem real at this point, it was like life had stopped but was flying by you at the same time. Tears blurred your vision as you slammed the bedroom door behind you, falling to your knees. The news finally seemed to come crashing down.

“We send you our condolences and are deeply sorry for your loss,”

Those words on the paper weren’t real, there was no way. It wasn’t supposed to happen this quickly. 

“Your mother, M/N L/N, passed away early this morning at 3:37 AM.” 

You started choking violently at your lack of breath. Her last moments and you didn’t even get to spend them with her. 

“She asked us to tell you something that wasn’t stated in the will.” 

Her last words.

“I love you so, so much N/N. Please do not cry, be happy. I hope I was a good mother to you. You were the best daughter I could ever ask for and more. I am okay with going now, because just knowing I had you in my life while I was here is enough for me.” 

You’d never felt your heart physically break in half before up until today. You felt like you had failed her by not being there. You wanted to go home early to spend time with her but she had reassured you she would be fine until you came home for winter break. 

Fuck, fuck. This was all your fault wasn’t it? The more you smacked yourself, the more the pain reminded you this was real. 

“Y/N? Where- holy shit,” 

You looked back and your eyes made contact with a pair of blue-grey ones. Draco stood over you, frightened and concerned at what he was seeing. Pulling out his wand, he mumbled a spell to lock the door from unwanted intruders before kneeling down next to your shaky body. 

Despite the other emotions you were going through, you felt embarrassed. You’d never broken down like this before, especially not in front of the boy you’d tried so hard to be strong for all these years.

His arms gently wrapped themselves around you, lifting you up from off the floor and onto your bed. “Don’t move, okay?” He rushed into your bathroom, coming back with a soaked hand towel. You were confused until he lifted one of your arms, softly rubbing the towel against your forearm. That was when you noticed the blood trickling out of your skin. You hadn’t realized you were in such a deep state of panic that you had begun scratching yourself. 

When he went over a particularly deep scratch, you took in a sharp breath. Draco looked up at you quickly, pulling the towel away from your skin. “I’m sorry, am I hurting you?” He whispered, almost as if he spoke any louder you would break into a million little pieces. 

You barely shook your head, too busy staring into the distance as salty tears rolled down your face. For a second you glanced at his face and saw the heartbreak in his eyes. 

After tending to your wounds, Draco almost hesitantly wrapped his arms around you. Not as if he didn’t want to- but he wasn’t entirely sure how. He was acting partially off instinct, and partially off of how you would comfort him in the past. He cleared his throat and gathered up the courage to ask the question you knew was looming in the air. 

“What happened?” 

At this you began to cry again, pointing towards the letter soaked with tears on the floor. Using his wand to bring it over, he read it. Not once, not twice, but three times. It took him a second to process the shock of it all himself. You knew your mom was like a second mother to him. In fact, she was the one who brought you and Draco together in the first place.

Draco’s grip around you tightened as he set down the envelope. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” 

You wailed into his chest, squeezing him like he would disappear if you didn’t. His hands rubbed comforting circles in your back. The smell of his expensive cologne and peppermint breathe put you more at ease, you choked sobs slowly turning into into small sniffles. He whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you that he would stay by your side and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m here, darling. I’m right here.” 

He was all you had left now. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like hours of you just laying on his chest. All the crying had worn you out, and your eyelids began to flutter. 

“Draco?” You mumbled in a disoriented state, into his now damp shirt.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” 

As you drifted into slumber, feeling safe in his arms, he replied. 

“I love you, too.” 

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter #hogwarts #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco x reader #draco x y/n

[bakugotrashpanda]

What do you Remember

Kaminari x Reader Word Count: 1944

Happy birthday to one (1) Denki Kaminari

Kaminari says some things and doesn’t remember them the next morning.

--

Denki Kaminari gives you a thumbs up from the hospital bed, a loopy grin on his face. This isn’t his usual ‘I overused my quirk and just need to rest’ look. No, this is the ‘I am loopy on meds’ look. When you had gotten the call that he was in the hospital, you dropped everything and rushed over.

“You the roommate?” a nurse approaches you. With the bags under her eyes, you hope she’s nearing the end of her shift. You flash your hero ID and she checks it with people authorized to take the electric hero home.

“I’m here to take him back,” you say and look at your roommate through the glass door. “Anything I should know about?” The nurse hands you her clipboard and points to the places you need to sign.

“He’s on some pretty strong painkillers,” the nurse shrugs, “He’s going to be out of it for a while. Instructions are on the bottle, don’t let him walk for the day or else he could end up back here. Will you be able to pick him up to carry him?” She checks out your physique and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. You’re a trained hero. ‘Can you lift him?’ Please. You could lift three of him without breaking a sweat.

To prove how capable you are, you walk into the room and scoop Kaminari bridal style out of the bed. The nurse raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. She unhooks the last of the monitors from Kaminari and asks if you need a wheelchair to get him out.

“I’ll be fine,” you smile. Kaminari’s blown out eyes widen when you walk out of the hospital.

--

“I live with the best people ever!” Kaminari grins.

“Mhm, we know,” you nod. Kaminari had been rambling the entire ride home, his words a stream of unfiltered thoughts. He had already told you how pretty the trees looked when covered with blossoms. Five times. 

“And I have the best partner ever too!” Kaminari gushes as you settle him on the couch. Sero watches this with amusement from the kitchen.

After graduating from UA, the three of you had found a cheap apartment while you all figured out how to navigate the world of being full-fledged heroes.

“Yup,” you dismiss his words and focus on keeping anything and everything the man could want in the next 24 hours. His job was to stay on the couch, but knowing him, he would probably try to walk around in the next 15 minutes. “You and Sero make a great hero team.”

“Nooo, not Sero!” Kaminari frowns, “I’m dating Y/N!” You drop the TV remote in your hand and turn to face him.

“E-EXCUSE ME?” you sputter. Dating? I think I would know if I was dating someone. 

“Oh this is gonna be good,” Sero says and pulls out his phone. You can only assume he started recording Kaminari because he asks rather loudly, “Kami, can you tell me one more time who you’re dating?”

“Yeah!” Kaminari’s face lights up in delight and he props himself up on his elbows, “I’m dating Y/N! They’re super sweet and they make the best pancakes on the weekend.”

“He’s right, you do make good pancakes,” Sero interjects. You look on in mute horror, wondering what else Kaminari will say.

“An’ I love ‘em so much!” Kaminari flops back onto the couch. Maybe he could recover in his bedroom instead of the living room where Sero could harass him for more information.

“OKAY I think it’s time someone went to bed,” you say.

“No!” Sero groans, “I want to hear some more from our esteemed roommate!” The shit-eating grin pasted on his face irritates you to no end. Kaminari barely knows what he’s saying, this wouldn’t be stuff he’d normally say. Hell, he wouldn’t even say this if blackout drunk.

“Sero, turn the camera off,” you say and pick Kaminari up in another bridal style scoop. A shutter clicks and you glare at Sero. Narrowing your eyes, you have a silent conversation conveyed through looks with the black-haired man.

“Fine,” Sero says and pockets his phone.

“You’re like a Greek god,” Kaminari stares up at you in wonder.

“Yup, sure I am, Kami,” you sigh. If only the morphine could wear off faster. Maybe it would have been better to leave him in the hospital for a while longer.

“You’re super strong. Can you bench press me?” Kaminari continues, his hands trail up and down the muscles on your arms. You try to ignore how pleased you feel from the praise.

“I bet I could.”

“Yeah, don’t you want to bench press him?” Sero snickers, getting ready to pull his phone out again.

“No, and don’t you have work to get to or something?” you ask pointedly.

“Nah, who else is going to take care of Kaminari’s bathroom needs?” Sero shrugs. That had already been agreed upon. Sero would take care of bathroom things and you would be in charge of keeping him from messing up his leg even further. Sero’s idea of taking care of him would probably include taping him in place which… would that honestly be so bad?

“Fine,” you huff, “Just keep your comments to yourself.” Sero mock salutes you and starts picking up the things you placed around the couch for Kaminari.

You spend the rest of the afternoon keeping the blond entertained. For the most part it’s easy, but the few times Kaminari tries to leave the comfort of his bed, you had to coax him to stay there. Sero, true to his word, stops trying to get Kaminari to say outlandish things and ends up leaving the two of you alone. 

By ten o’clock, you’re exhausted. Your body aches to be in the comfort of your own bed, and not on a well-worn computer chair. 

“Alright, Kami,” you sigh, “No getting up now or else I’ll have to stay in here.” Kaminari shoots up in bed at your words. His eyes are wide and he almost looks… panicked?

“No, you can't do that. If Y/N sees you,” Kaminari looks around the room and his voice drops to a whisper, “They’ll think I’m cheating on them.” Cheating? What is he talking about? Does he know that I’m right in front of him? “I could never do that! I’m not a cheater. I don’t know what I’d do if they left me.” Kaminari tries to get out of bed and away from you.

As gently as possible, you push him back onto the bed. Kneeling at the side of the bed, you hold Kaminari’s hand. “Kami, Kami,” you say. Kaminari tries to yank his hand away from yours, sheer terror written on his face. “It’s me! It’s Y/N.” When you say your own name, Kaminari stops struggling and looks at you. As if seeing you for the first time, the tension in his body melts away and a goofy grin takes over his mouth.

“You’re here!” he says softly and tugs your hands towards himself. You’re pulled into an awkward position over Kaminari’s lap. Slender fingers cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips tingle from the brief amount of contact, but it’s an intoxicating feeling and you can’t pull away. When Kaminari releases your mouth, he sighs and flops over on the bed. Soft snores fill the room, and you’re left frozen over him wondering what the hell just happened. Your whole body feels like it’s been electrocuted, but is that from Kaminari’s quirk or your own reaction to the kiss?

“Did he go down alright?” Sero asked when you left Kaminari’s room.

“W-What?” you ask, your head still in the clouds.

“To sleep,” Sero says, “Did you have any trouble getting Kaminari to fall asleep?”

“Oh. No.” you say and robotically move towards your room, “I’m tired though. Night.”

--

“Good morning!” Kaminari chirps and walks out of his bedroom. It’s a bit early for him to be walking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to sit. After the kiss last night, you don’t want to carry him anywhere and make things awkward.

“You would not believe the dreams I had!” Kaminari continues, “There was a Greek god and- What?” By now he notices you and Sero staring at him.

“Kami, what do you remember from last night?” you ask slowly.

“Uh, to be one hundred percent honest, I can’t tell what’s real and what’s my imagination,” Kaminari scratches his head nervously.

“I have some grade A entertainment for us to watch,” Sero grins.

“Don’t you dare,” you snap.

“He already said it, might as well fill him in,” Sero shrugs. Your eyes narrow and you internally beg for Sero to stop.

“Or,” you hiss, “We can let things drop and pretend it didn’t happen since he clearly doesn’t remember it.” Kaminari eyes dart between you and Sero.

“You’re making me nervous, what happened?” he asks. 

“I can’t do this,” you mutter and stomp out of the room. Sero’s voice floats through your closed bedroom door.

“Ah, c’mon! His reactions to it all are part of it!”

You bite your nails and wait to hear Kaminari’s reaction. After a minute of silence, Kaminari screeches and Sero howls with laughter. Kaminari’s voice takes on a tint of anger. You can’t hear the words being said, but you can tell it’s a tense conversation.

There’s a tentative knock on the door and Kaminari pokes his head in. A deep crimson blush covers his face.

“So, uh, I guess we need to talk?” he breaks the ice.

“Do you really feel that way about me?” you ask. Kaminari avoids your eyes and slips into your room. He stands with his back against the door, about as far away as possible from you in the small space.

“I mean, yeah…” he admits. There’s a heavy pause as he thinks of what to say next. “Look, if it’s going to make things awkward, I can crash with Mina and find another place or something. You were the one who found this apartment for us.”

“There’s one thing Sero doesn’t know about,” you say. One thing that I alone know. 

“What?”

You beckon him closer. Kaminari edges forward slowly. You wait until he’s directly in front of you. Tugging his shirt towards you, he bends and his ear is next to your mouth. 

“You kissed me.” You pull him towards you and he topples on top of you. It’s reminiscent of last night, except this time you’re the one who’s going to make a move. Golden eyes meet yours as you whisper, “And I kissed you back.” Softly, you pull him into another electrifying kiss. This time you’re sure that it’s your heart and not Denki’s quirk causing the sensation. The rich, earthy scent of the ground after it rains for the first time in a long time surrounds you.

“Wait does that mean that you like me too?” Denki asks as you pull away.

“No, it means I like kissing random guys whenever I can,” you say sarcastically. Before he can say anything or take your comment seriously, you add, “Of course it means I like you!”

Denki pulls you in for another kiss. It’s slow and you greedily take as much as you can. Before lightheadedness can set in, you both break apart. 

“You know,” you say nonchalantly, “You’re not supposed to be walking for a while longer. Maybe you can stay here and we can cuddle or something?” Denki flops next to you and pulls you close.

“I think I can do that.”

--

A/N: instead of starting a Denki multichapter thing, I went through my WIPs and found an idea I hadn’t touched in a while :x

 @kiliakit @redbeanteax @burnedbyshoto @hisoknen @secondhand-trash @bratwritings @ttamaki @tomurasprincess @bakugous-forehead​ @jojosmilktea​

#bnha imagines #kaminari #kaminari x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #sparky birthday

[inkandpen22]

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (8/?)

Pairing: Spike x reader

Warnings: smut, swearing, arguing (mild)

Word Count: 2.4k

Part Summary: Y/N and Spike discover what happens when they kiss. Now, they start to wonder what may happen if they push the boundaries.

Masterlist

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Spike checks on me in a panic.

“Never better!” I jump up and down as I pace about the crypt.

Spike holds out an arm to me, “Y/N, maybe you should sit-”

I squeal, the world feels so new! “I could climb a skyscraper or better yet, Mount Everest!” I clasp my hands together.

“That’s great, but-”

“I want to go to Europe!" I determine. "I’ve been, you wanna go? Let’s go!" I jump up and down. " You’re English, you’re old, you’ll know your way around! Natives won’t fuck with me if you’re around! All you have to do is go ‘roar,’ show your fangs a little, and-” I curl my fingers to mimic claws.

“Y/N!” Spike shouts. I stop immediately, a pout appears on my lips. He sighs, guilt etching his face. “Sorry, I-”

“No, you’re right," I nod calmly. "I don’t know what came over me there." A nervous laugh escapes me as I comb my fingers through my hair.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks again, not convinced considering my frantic state.

“Yeah, kinda lightheaded," I admit. "But that’s probably from the sudden energy boost. It’s like having one too many cups of coffee.”

“Do you want me to drive you and Dawn home?” He offers, placing a hand on my shoulder.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head, “oh shit, Dawn! I’ve gotta go!”

“Wait,” spike grabs my forearm and spins me back around into his chest. He presses lips to mine and the glorious, all-encompassing feeling pours back into my body. Before I have the chance to fully enjoy it, Spike breaks away. “I’ll come by later.”

I nod, still kind of dazed and confused by the suddenness and intensity of the kiss. “Okay.”

Spike snickers lightly, letting me go. I exit the crypt and the chill of the night’s breeze courses over my skin. Maybe I shouldn’t drive? I’m still a little loopy. No, I’m fine, we’re fine! Plus, the sooner I get Dawnie home, the sooner Buffy will be done yelling. The sooner Buffy is done yelling, the sooner I can escape to my room, and the sooner Spike can come over. Yeah, I’m better than fine.

_______________________________________________

After all the dramatics, the Scoobies and Giles come over to discuss recent events with Glory. Oh yeah, she’s back, great right? I sit around the dining room table with them absentmindedly, struggling to conjure up an excuse to leave and head upstairs. It’s not as though any of them will let me fight Glory again because I’m ‘too weak to take her on.’ I check my watch and it’s well into the night. Spike could be here any minute, he could be upstairs waiting for me, this sucks.

Giles rambles on about his and Anya’s discoveries, “she’s far more powerful than we originally imagined. She-”

A thud from the ceiling interrupts the Watcher and makes everyone peer up.

“Okay, what the heck was that?” Xander questions sharply.

“Maybe it’s Glory and her minions!” Willow gasps, causing panic.

Starring at my lap absentmindedly, my eyes go wide with realization. Nope, it’s not Glory or her ugly trolls. More likely than not, it’s Spike landing in my room from the window. I accidentally leap up from my chair more noticeably than intended. Everyone’s attention turns to me and I laugh nervously under their intense stares.

“I left my crystals charging in my room and I must’ve lost focus. You know how loud they can be when they fall,” I stumble out an explanation as I cross the room to the foyer. “I’ll be right back!”

Sprinting up the stairs, I ignore their faint exchanges of curiosity. So what if they thought that whole thing was strange? When is anything in our lives normal? Xander is dating an ex-vengeance for Lord’s sake!

I swing open the door to my dark bedroom, nothing but the moonlight lingering in from the windows illuminate the space. I enter cautiously, seeing no sign of Spike. I start to question whether there was really a thud, but everyone heard it too. I couldn’t have imagined it.

The door behind me swings shut. Before I have the chance to look, arms wrap around my waist and I’m yanked back into someone’s chest. I gasp, panicking that its Glory or one of her minions.

“Hello, Love,” Spike whispers in my ear.

I relax, my heart pounding in my chest. Then, I swat his leather-covered arms. “You’re such an ass!” I laugh.

“Sorry Pet, I couldn’t resist,” he chuckles, releasing his hold lightly to stand in front of me. His hands remain on my waist with a squeeze as he plants a quick peck on my lips. “I missed you.”

“I miss you too,” I grin, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he shakes his head. I frown and Spike is quick to explain. “Wouldn’t want you to go all Zeus on me again.”

I roll my eyes, stepping out of his embrace. “Tease,” I name call jokingly, well... partially.

He’s like a drug dealer who gets you hooked then drops you. Leaving you wanting more, so much so that you’re willing to go mad for it.

“Shilly-shally,” he fires back in a grumble.

My jaw drops as I whip my head around. “What did you just call me?”

He pouts, avoiding my gaze as he focuses on the floor. “Nothing...”

“No, say it!” I challenge, laughing breathlessly. “What did you call me?”

“Alright fine!” He straightens up and closes in on me. “I called you a shilly-shally person! An indecisive fence-sitter! One minute you’re yelling at me- like right now- and the next you’re on me like velcro!” His face softens, “which I don’t mind by the way, but it’s all kinda confusing. I wake up asking myself what version of Y/N am I getting today?” He mumbles the last bit.

My chest rises and falls rapidly as Spike towers over me in such close proximity. There it is again, the electric pull to him that overwhelms my mind whenever we’re in the same room. When we’re apart he’s still in my head. My eyes land on his lips and I can’t look away.

“Y/N...” Spike whispers.

“Yeah?” I mutter, distracted in my own head.

I feel his hand appear on my waist, gliding across my shirt and down my back. He glides closer to me, my chest pressed against his.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he states wisely, but his actions say don’t express the same amount of self-control.

I nod, “We shouldn���t... it would be wrong.” My hands run down his chest and I can feel the ripple of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“We should stop,” he whispers, hovering his lips over my neck.

I hum, I know he’s right, but I can’t break free. It’s if I’m in a trance. “Spike?”

He hums and I can feel his warm breath against my neck.

My eyes fall shut as I ponder the feel of him against me, his hands wondering my body. “I need to do something for me.”

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” he growls. In a swift motion, he grabs the back of my legs and guides them around his waist.

I land on my bed with a yelp and Spike hovers over me. His lips smash to mine with such an intensity that I stop breathing for a second. Spike’s hands claw at my body and I can’t ignore the glowing light that appears when I close my eyes. It’s the same sort I saw in the crypt. My fingers comb through his hair, forgetting everything and just enjoying the sensation.

Spike breaks from me, gasping for air, “you really want to try this?”

I hum, nodding my head frantically. I don’t care about what happens, all I know is that I need spike now! Like right now, this moment! I lean up to kiss him again, but he cowers back subtly. Hesitation consumes his features, “but what if-”

“I don’t know what will happen!” I confess. “But I know I don’t care!”

Visibly, Spike faces an internal battle. His hand hovers over my cheek, he’s so close to touching my skin, but he stops himself. I slip my hand over his and his eyes grow wide as I guide it down to my cheek. I nod, giving him full permission. I want to do this.

I close my eyes, focusing hard on myself and internalizing so I don’t slip away. Spike slips his hand under my shirt and grips my waist. His touch is cold, yet warm at that same if that’s possible. My attention slips to the sensation and I feel drawn to him. No, no, I have to focus on myself. I hear my breathing, I feel Spike’s hand and the bedding beneath me. Steadily, Spike begins to glides his hand down and unbuckles my jeans. My cheeks become warm as they blush.

“Spike,” I mutter, feeling myself becoming distracted.

Ignoring my warning, he continues his pursuit. His fingers slip into my jeans and rub against my core. I inhale sharply as he picks up his pace and deepens his pressure. Spike is making it hard to focus as all I want to do is touch him and be consumed by him. His fingers glide up and down my core at a steady pace. I shift in my position slightly, my back arching off my bed. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to remain focused.

Hurriedly, Spike breaks away from my lips and towers over me. Gripping the hem of my jeans, he tugs them off my legs. Already needing more, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and bring him back down to bring his lips to mine. He continues his motion against my core as he deepens the kiss. He’s not playing fair. My fingers comb through his hair and I find it impossible to not want more. He removes his hand from me to shake off his jacket. Using my magic, I press my hand to his back and remove his shirt. Spike snickers against the kiss at my actions.

“You couldn’t do that to your bloody pants!” he snickers against my lips. “Think you could help a boy out and return the favor?”

I giggle and mentally remove my shirt. In a blink it’s gone, along with Spike’s pants, kill two birds with one stone.

“Can you do that trick more often?” He insinuates.

“Spike!”

He laughs and presses his lips to mine hungrily. It nearly takes my breath away. The addictive sensation of his kiss and a gift from the Devil himself. I roll my hips subconsciously, wanting us to be closed somehow. Spike growls and I feel the vibration against my lips. I’m too weak to deny my want for more. I want everything from Spike.

Then, I start to sense my attention slipping as more of our skin comes into contact. I want to give into him, forget trying to focus. Yet, I’d slip into his mind and would lose control. I’ve never heard of two individuals ‘in the moment’ and sharing a mind. We would be experiencing the same exact thoughts and emotions. I mean, there’s no greater form of being intertwined! We would be physically and emotionally entangled... we would lose individuality altogether. In that supernatural world, that has to have side effects.

“God, I want you, Y/N” he moans.

The sound pushes my willpower over the edge. Oh, screw it! I give into him and toss apprehension aside. All I know is that shagging Spike is all I want. The bright light that I experienced in the crypt is returning. It’s shimmering white and blue shades encompass my sight. The beautiful sensation of electricity coursing through my veins overwhelms my body and soul. I lose myself in the drug-like feeling.

My awareness returns to me in a jolt as Spike enters me. I gasp for a second as I experience the moment fully attached to my body.

"Are you okay, Love?" Spike checks, gently brushing strands away from my face. "Are you still with me?"

I hum as a wave of complex bliss rushes me entirely. Spike continues, and I feel myself slipping away into the angelic, heavenly, warmth that draws me.

"Bloody hell, Y/N," he whispers. His warm breath brushes against my collar bone and he leaves trails along the path. “You’re so beautiful.”

I feared intimacy as it posed a risk, yet how could this possibly be bad? I don't even feel human anymore. I feel... other-worldly! Swiftly, I change the pace, switching positions with him. My strength is magnified as I pin Spike down to the bed by his wrists. He peers up at me with amazement in his eyes. Clearly, he's not used to having someone be strong enough to challenge him. In my defense, I'm not used to holding this much power.

I roll my hips, feeling the pleasure build up in my core. Spike digs his nails into my hips as he squeezes his eyes shut and arches his neck back.

"Y/N," he pants, sounding like warning.

I love the sound his voice, especially now. I can’t imagine my world without him in it. I break away from his lips and start a trail down his neck. He shifts under me as this breathe quickens.

The power he grants me is too great to refuse. I continue my actions, wanting him to hit his climax because of me. All I want is to make him happy, grant him every pleasure the world has to over. The idea of that only excites me more and makes me quicken my pace. There's a powerful charge of foreign magic channeling through my body. My spirit has never been higher.

"Holy shit," I gasp as the feeling of my climax coming into reach.

Who's ever described an out of body experience, I get it now! Every touch, kiss, it's all intensified. Everything I'm experiencing is magnified. The glimmer behind my eyes explodes and my eyes snap open.

"Y/N?" I hear a voice angelic voice speak my name. “Y/N!”

I've never experienced anything like this before! All I see is a bright white light in front of me like I'm at Heaven's gate. Chills travel over my skin and a wave of warmth breezes over me as I approach the bright light. It shimmers and waves of blue glisten around me. All I have to do is reach out and touch it. I hold out my hand toward the light and my hand escapes in it. The light travels up my arm and toward my chest. A glimmering crystal blue lighting bolt like thread pierces my chest and I gasp. My eyes fall shut and the world around me goes dark as I slip away.

"Y/N!" I hear Spike voice fades out like a distance breeze.

_________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @mx-pibbles​ @hexmancia​ @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​

#spike x reader #spike fanfic #spikexreader #spike #spuffy #spike x buffy #buffy summers #buffy s5 #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine

[boredfanwrites]

Aizawa’s Apartment for the Wayward Wanderer

Aizawa isn't stupid, he's also a teacher. He knows when kids are lying to him, making light of a serious situation. This kid in front of him has his wings tensed, despite the easy smile on his face. Hawks has only just turned 18, which gave the Commission full rights in making him a licensed pro hero. Which is why when he manages to coerce Hawks away from his handlers long enough he gives him a spare key.

"No, no I can't accept this. I don't want to come barging into your life."

"Kid, I'm never there. Sure, I crash every now and again if I'm out too late but I've tended not to be in the area that late anymore. I have a home to get to. You'd be doing me a favour."

He tries to smile in a warm way, tries to differ from the fake praising smiles he imagines Hawks has only gotten his whole life. He likes to think that Hawks knew it was genuine, that he trusts him as an adult figure who actually wants what's best for him, not what's best for his career and appearance.

 ***

The first time Aizawa finds him, Hawks is smoking on the fire escape.

"You know, when I said this apartment was empty and free to use, I didn't mean to satisfy the cravings the Commission won't allow you."

Hawks turns around and Aizawa realises just how much he'd needed that smoke. His facade has fallen, no smirk on his face, just apathy. Hawks doesn't just look exhausted, he looks tired, in the way that no matter how much rest or sleep he'd gotten he would not be able to shake the bags from his eyes.

"Yeah, well, sometimes you just gotta give in, right?" Aizawa noticed the bloody polystyrene tray balanced on the railings.

"Not the only thing you've given into tonight?"

"Or the past week."

"Hawks?"

"I appreciate the apartment space, Eraser."

And like that he's gone. Hawks is only 19, it's not the first time he's stayed in the apartment. Aizawa had seen the subtle signs. It's the first time Aizawa had caught him, looking as tired as he did. He looked far older than 19, like he'd seen too much too soon. Aizawa couldn't help but think that Hawks wasn't too much older than his students, those who'd just graduated and those about to, nowhere near being a pro hero. All in the makings for sidekicks, or being introduced at a lower level, so young they'd have to work their way up. Hawks had been thrown in head first, so quickly Aizawa wondered if he'd ever gotten the chance to just be.

***

The second time Aizawa runs into Hawks is an accident, he swears. He'd been caught pretty badly by one of the villains quirks and muscle memory swung him to his old apartment's balcony. It also sent him crashing directly into the bird who was smoking there.

"Shit, ow." Hawks quickly stood up, brushing himself off, before noticing the state Aizawa was in. "You know I could've sworn that your capture scarf was not red the last time I saw it."

Aizawa didn't dignify Hawks with a response, simply choosing to locate the closest of the first aid kits he kept in the apartment.

"Thought you said you had a home to go to," Hawks laughed as Aizawa slowly peeled off the sticky scarf.

"The home does not like it when I get back injured," the gruff voice responded, before wincing as his scarf caught on one of the entry points.

"Oh my God, stop. You're just going to hurt yourself more," Hawks grabbed at the scarf as Aizawa tried to bat his hands away. "Please just let me."

Aizawa scrunches his face up, slowly dropping his hands as Hawks takes over. Hawks is surprisingly gentle, choosing to nimbly loosen the scarf as he finds wounds it's stuck to. It doesn't hurt.

Once Hawks is done he retrieves a first aid box that is distinctly neon yellow. Not one Aizawa had left. Hawks rifles through, throwing aside bandages and patches.

"This is the good shit. Not exactly promoted by hospitals and it'll make you loopy for a bit, but there's a sofa for you here."

Hawks lifts out a vial of blue liquid, alongside cotton pads and some larger dressings for the worse of the wounds. Aizawa pulls himself away, trying to locate his own first aid kits.

"Oh come on. You can't go to the hospital 'cause you definitely didn't get those doing legal work," Hawks sighed. "This'll do it's job, I swear it's not dangerous. I use it all the time."

"That's not exactly a glowing recommendation."

"Well, at least you're okay. You still have the energy to insult me at least."

Aizawa laughs lightly, the younger man bandaging his wounds, he still makes a show of batting away Hawks' hands every now and then but is mostly resigned to letting the bird do his work.

"I'm not going to like the answer if I ask how you knew how to do that, am I?"

"Depends on your definition of like. I got used to patching myself up after training sessions."

"So, no. I do not like that."

"Nothing to do about it now," Hawks shrugged.

Aizawa took Hawks' hands into his own. They were shaking, but rough and calloused. His knuckles were red and raw. Aizawa grabbed the blue liquid and begun to return the favour.

"I'm always here. I'll always be there to help, Hawks. Just because nothing has been done, doesn't mean something can't be done."

 ***

The third time Hawks is lounging around the apartment in what looks to be the comfiest pyjamas Aizawa had ever owned. Aizawa had let himself in with his key following a text from Hawks asking if the man wanted a 'movie day'. Aizawa responded with a '?' but made his way over anyway, relaying the excuse of a stake out to Hizashi.

A glaring light from the TV fills the room as it begins to get dark. Hawks had played action film after action film before Aizawa put his foot down and coerced Hawks into watching a period piece.

"I never had this growing up," Hawks whispered, eyes wide. "Tokoyami was saying they do it at the dorms all the time. I just, I wanted to know what this was like, so thank you."

Aizawa didn't say anything else, just let Hawks pick out the next movie, the next snacks. Hawks picked their takeaway. They both fell asleep at what Aizawa would consider a normal hour, but others ungodly.

Hizashi asked how well the stake out had gone when Aizawa returned at 6pm the following day. Aizawa found he couldn't lie to his husband. Hizashi was upset at the initial lie, but understood. Hawks was trying to be normal, just a regular guy. Hell, even a regular pro-hero makes time for a movie every now and then. Who were they to take that away from him?

 ***

The fourth time Aizawa catches him is the worst time. By this time Aizawa was aware of Hawks' mission with the League of Villains, he knew that the pro hero had been neglecting the commission because of it. The commission had been acting harshly towards Hawks in retaliation, Aizawa wasn't sure how that differed from their usual treatment but he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

He'd knocked on the door before letting himself in. Hawks was curled up in a long black jacket that Aizawa pretended he didn't recognise, his red feathers scattered around him on the floor, a few droplets of blood on both the floor and Hawks. The younger man was asleep, a blanket had been gently dropped over him, probably by the owner of the coat. Who, based on the apartment temperature in comparison to the window being open, had only recently left and had not had a chance to clean Hawks up.

Aizawa takes it upon himself to finish the job. There was a worrying amount of feathers, more than Aizawa had anticipated. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but based on the blood he feared the worst. Once he'd collected the feathers, not throwing them away because he couldn't bring himself to take that away from Hawks, he sat on his sofa, lacing his fingers together and just watched Hawks. He watched as the bird drew breath, gently as an opposite to the loud gasping sobs Aizawa was imagining. He'd seen Hawks sleep before, there had been some crossover stakeouts, but the sight in front of him was different. Hawks was just 22, young, scared, controlled and trapped. Clearly it had caught up to him. The boy, that's all that he was to Aizawa, on the floor in front of him was different to the man he'd worked patrols with. Aizawa couldn't help but think that this is who Hawks was underneath the mask, the person he wasn't allowed to be.

"I tried to stop him," a gravelly voice sighed at the window.

"You know I should arrest you on the spot." Aizawa would not admit his shock at being snuck up on. He'd let his guard down within his worry for Hawks and Dabi had managed to return undetected.

"You should, but you won't. You and I both know that won't do him any good," Dabi jabbed a thumb at the sleeping mass. "I just, I tried to stop him. He was fuming, screaming, ripping out his wings."

"I was worried about the impact on his mental health."

"What mental health? He's just as fucked up as I am," Dabi yelled, quickly lowering his volume once more, he sighed. "I know, and I know you know. I'm starting to think he knows I know. It's a lot, it'd be a lot for anyone, but it's really taking it out of him. I'm...worried."

It's then Aizawa remembers, Dabi is mixed up in his own things too. Not really following the League anymore but reluctant to leave his found family, a family that now included Hawks, even if he'd joined for the wrong reasons.  

"He needs a break, or just to stop."

"He wants free from the commission and I don't think he'll stop at anything to get that. It scares me. Eraser, Aizawa, I haven't been this scared since Endeavour first got hold of Sho."

It's then Aizawa remembers, Dabi may be older than Hawks but he went through a traumatic childhood all the same. He was also just a kid, robbed of the chance to be a child and now he was a scared adult that didn't have a hold of how to process his emotions, just like the young boy sleeping in front of them.

"Here," Aizawa shuffles around in his pocket. "It's my key to the place. I gave a copy to Hawks not long after I met him, used to swing by every now and then to check on him. But you need this place more than I do."

 ***

The fifth time Aizawa walks into the apartment it's a few years later and it's because one of his problem children had called him there. He had not expected to find Bakugo Katsuki rocking back and forth, with Dabi seemingly stroking soft shapes into his arms. Midoriya was mumbling to himself, while Hawks and Todoroki were making tea.

"Aizawa-sensei, I'm so glad you came," Midoriya broke from his mumbling.

"You called me, Midorya. What's happened?"

"Kacchan. His hearing blew out in a fight. Villain let off a grenade right next to him."

"We've only just managed to get him cleaned up," Hawks sighed. "Absolutely refused the hospital."

"I hate to break up this nice catch-up," Dabi cleared his throat. "He's signing something...but what the fuck is a K shark?"

"Kirishima," the teacher and his problem children sighed.

Aizawa wasn't going to ask how Dabi knew sign, he was sure he wouldn't like the answer he'd receive. Instead he turned on his heel, ready to set out to find Kirishima Eijirou. It was a well known fact that he grounded Bakugo in a way that no-one else had managed.

The sight he returned to was far better than the first. Bakugo was now wrapped in Dabi's arms, the pair lying on the sofa. Midoriya had calmed considerably and was making small-talk with Hawks while Todoroki was attempting to subtly reconcile with his older brother who's identity still remained anonymous to most. Kirishima immediately ran to Bakugo's side, linking their fingers together. It allowed Kirishima to slowly pull Bakugo into him until the blonde boy broke down in sobs.

"He'll be okay. Nobody mentions this to him," Kirishima glared at Midoriya specifically, as he ran a hand up and down Bakugo's shirt. "We knew this was coming, just happened a little sooner than we thought."

"His hearing aids?" Todoroki asked.

"They'll have to be adjusted," Aizawa answered.

"He won't wear them unless it's absolutely necessary. They've caused him far more pain than good," Kirishima shook his head.

"He won't be able to be a hero," Midoriya looked close to tears.

"He'll find a way." Kirishima smiled fondly, Aizawa felt as though he was intruding.

So he removed himself, intending to brew more tea. As he was doing so however, both Hawks and Dabi made their way to the bedroom. Aizawa quickly glanced at his problem children, before edging closer to the doorway, just until he could make out a conversation.

"We're not adopting another one."

"Hawks..."

"Those were your exact words when I said about Jin."

"He's just a kid, Hawks. He's been told his entire life he needs to be the best, the strongest, no flaws allowed."

"Dabi, we're not doing this. Who's gonna look after him? He's a goddamn livewire."

"Just please, can we this once, Keigo?"

"Touya, no." Aizawa wasn't aware that Dabi had revealed his identity to Hawks, or that Hawks would use his given name so freely. Likewise for Hawks, who kept his name incredibly close to his chest.

"Kei..." Aizawa recognised that. An undeniably, unbelievably soft voice from Dabi. The tone that his husband had used too many times and the tone that Aizawa had used only once. Aizawa knew that if Hawks truly loved Dabi there would be no more saying no.

"Fine, but this one's your kid."

 ***

Aizawa was going through the motions, the usual setting of his routine after a patrol. He didn't break out of it until he felt his husbands hands on his shoulders.

"Shouta?"

"Someone asked to buy my apartment."

"Well, that's good isn't it? You're never there anymore, you always come home after a patrol now...Oh. Hawks."

"Hawks is the one who offered to buy it."

"But Hawks has his own place."

"Yeah paid for by the commission, right next to the commission and his agency. Which makes me question why he wants to move so damn far away."

"Shouta, we're not adopting another one."

"If we did, we'd have to adopt another 4. Well, 3 really, I guess along the way I did adopt a few of the problem children unofficially."

"What?"

"He's got his own little family. I'm starting to think he picked up the habit of adopting strays from me. Two villains, a vigilante and a hero."

"Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke."

Aizawa just hummed, knowing that somehow Hawks' rag tag little family would make their own way.

#bhna hawks #bhna #bhna bakugou #bhna dabi #bhna aizawa #bhna fic #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #fanfic #hawks fanfic #hotwings #hawks x dabi #erasermic #kiribaku #keigo #touya todoroki #shoto aizawa #tododeku if you squint #hawks centric #eraserhead #deaf bakugou

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

just saw a Christmas card at the shops that said: “I want to be the reason Santa puts you on the naughty list” and am I wrong in imagining demon!Harry giving that card to angel!y/n?

“I got you something.”

The sound of a grocery bag thudding hollowly against the marble countertop of the kitchen pulls Y/N’s attention away from the kettle heating up milk on the stove. 

She’s in the middle of making hot chocolate for the second time today; she’d acquired quite the taste for it as the holidays draw closer. Her new craving is actually one of the reasons Harry had gone to the store today— she had run out of marshmallows to top her favorite seasonal drink. 

He didn’t mind going, especially when Y/N had come to him while he was watching a supernatural documentary on the couch, approaching him in such a timid, guilty manner while holding the empty plastic bag to her chest and giving him a small sheepish smile. “We ran out of marshmallows.”

Harry had glanced down at the sullen, deflated bag and then back up at Y/N, lips twitching with endeared entertainment. “I think you mean you ran out of marshmallows ‘cause I’ve barely touched the stash.” 

She had given him a pointed scowl, though she knew he was right. The amount of hot chocolate she’d been indulging lately was getting to be borderline embarrassing. “Will you just pick up more, please?”

Harry had beckoned her forward with his forefinger, patting the armrest of the sofa as a symbol for her to sit. As soon as she’d settled into the spot, he’d wrapped his arms around her tummy and yanked her down into his lap in a flurry of clear plastic and wild hair. She laid with her back against his thighs and her legs hooked over the side of the sofa, laughing breathlessly due to the random whirlwind. He’d placed a gentle kiss between her eyebrows, breathing in the sweet scent of her chamomile and mandarin shampoo. “Why don’t you just put it on your Christmas list to Santa?” 

“I think my drink will be cold by then.” She had quipped back, tilting her head with a deadpan tone, giving him an amused scoff. 

He jutted out his bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. “Tough luck then, huh?”

Leave it to Harry to be a little shit over the slightest things.

“Pleaseeeeee?” 

Harry had pursed his lips, head falling backwards against the backrest, humming thoughtfully in the back of his throat as if mulling over the request. 

Y/N had reached up and grabbed him by his t-shirt collar, pulling his head forward once again and down to her level, kissing the faint curve of one of his dimples. In return, it had pinched deeper into his cheek, his mouth jolting into a soft smirk. 

“Pretty please?”

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” 

He had to restock some toiletries anyways. 

Harry had treaded through the superstore leisurely, wandering through the aisles aimlessly and taking his time in choosing what shaving cream to get and searching for a new deodorant scent. 

He’d swung by the market section, picking up two packs of mini marshmallows instead of one, knowing Y/N would be extra grateful. He’d thrown in a bag of Texas style sliced bread for his famous French toast, along with a twelve pack of ginger ale and some white cheddar puffs to snack on later while watching Chopped. 

He never thought he’d ever be doing something as domestic and mundane as going to the store solely for the purpose of buying his girlfriend marshmallows— he never thought he’d have another girlfriend in general. It just hadn’t seemed in the cards for him at the time and the way Y/N just crashed into his life and completely stripped him of the brooding, deflective, unattached shell he’d built over himself for centuries was astonishing. And if he’s being honest, it was almost disgusting how soft he’d gotten since, considering his romantic side hadn’t flared up in decades. 

Harry had grown fond of it, though. The wholesomeness of simple tasks like this sat at the pit of his stomach in the form of a warm glow, putting an extra jump in his heels and a goofy, lovesick grin across the edges of his lips, exactly like the ones in those stupid romance movies he used to take the piss out of.  

The old lady hobbling down the bread aisle probably thought he was fucking mad— no sane person just smiles at the smudged concrete ground in the middle of a supermarket for no apparent reason. 

As he’d made his way towards the self check-out kiosks, the most obnoxiously sappy idea yet struck him like a punch to the gut, slamming the breaks on his steps. 

The greeting card corridor. 

He found the perfect one barely five feet into the aisle. It had a pastel green background that was strewn with laminated glitter. Off to the left of the card was the art: a set of bright red lace lingerie, crumpled as if it were sitting on the floor with a Santa hat strewn carelessly next to it, insinuating that whoever had donned the attire had gotten it off in a hastily manner. The doodle of the clothing had actual lace fabric overlaid on top of the drawing and the hat even had a miniature fuzzy poof ball at the end. The words were shifted more towards the right of the cover, scrawled right beside the image in big, loopy white cursive: I want to be the reason Santa puts you on the naughty list.

The font for naughty list was different— instead of the pretty, festive letters, it looks as if it were written on the surface with red lipstick that had been smeared down the bottom of the card, a small kiss print decorating the space beside the phrase, acting as punctuation. 

It was golden and it gave Harry a palpable reason to wear that stupid grin on his face. 

He’d jetted home, excitement sizzling his fingertips and causing them to tighten against the leather of his steering wheel. 

The steps up to the condo were taken two at a time, the elevator much too slow for his taste and he’d learned not to just flash in and out of public spaces anymore because it could result in a ruckus amongst the humans, which is publicity Lucifer really didn’t want to deal with.  

That brings him to where he is now, plopping the bags off his wrists onto the marble kitchen counter, startling a robe-clad Y/N from her spot before the stovetop. 

“I got you something.” 

His girlfriend drifts over to the kitchen island, leaning forward on her tiptoes to bend over the edge of the surface, taking a curious peek into the grocery bags. Her voice comes out soft and childishly hopeful. “Marshmallows?” 

Harry can’t resist the bubbly chuckle that her adorably excited aura draws. “Yeah, I got the marshmallows, don’t worry. But I also got you something else…and you should be grateful for it considering you’re a thief.”

He reaches forward and gently takes the collar of her lavender Sherpa robe between his index and middle finger— which is actually his lavender Sherpa robe that he treasures very fucking much— and gives it a signifying tug. 

Y/N tilts her chin down to get a glimpse of what he’s going on about and then bashful recognition washes down her face in the form of pursed lips and a blithe glint in her eyes. “Sorry, mine’s in the wash.” 

Harry begins rummaging through the groceries, moving his sensitive skin shaving cream and Old Spice deodorant out of the way with the back of his hands, retrieving the two bags of marshmallows and sliding them across the counter. 

He suddenly kinks a single eyebrow up, her comment plucking a memory string in the back of his mind. “Was it the one you were wearing two nights ago?” 

He can see her bite into the inside of her cheek, a soft blue glow just barely illuminating the ring around her irises as she nods her head wordlessly, gaze darting down to the treats to keep them from going into full headlights mode. 

Harry leans forward onto the marble stretch, balancing on his elbows, chin propped on the palm of his left hand as the other slowly fishes the greeting card out, toying the pad of his thumb at one of the corners. He’s too amused to interrupt her fidgeting by giving it to her so he’ll hold out for a bit. 

His voice comes out low and teasing through a cocky simper, eyes hooded arrogantly. “Was it the one you were wearing when you jerked me off on the couch?”

It’s like he can flip her on like a switch, a milky white light casting across the high points of her cheeks, originating from her irises. She blinks rapidly, willing it to simmer down, glaring up at him from under her lashes with sharp annoyance. 

Harry taps at his upper lip with the pads of his digits, Cupid’s Bow curling as his grin widens, the back of his throat resonating with a hummed chortle. The pearl necklace he’d recently bought sits atop his collarbones delicately, gleaming mockingly under the bright lights of the kitchen, rising and falling with his deep, easy breaths. He worries the right corner of his mouth with his top teeth, jaw clenching to keep in a full-bellied laugh. His lashes slowly dust the crests of his cheekbones with a seductive energy, a faint moan running along the undercurrent of his words, giving his voice a sultry twang. 

“Was it the one you were wearing when you undid the tie of my flannel pants, pushed them down my hips just enough to get my cock out, and then proceeded to tug me off while kissing up my throat, whispering on about how much you love it when I moan your name?” 

Y/N swallows thickly and she’d failed to notice that she was gripping the bag of marshmallows to her stomach, thankful that she was opposite to him over the counter or else he’d get a view of her slightly buckling knees. 

She abruptly tries to defuse the atmosphere of the room by clearing her throat loudly and switching topics. “Thanks for going to get these for—”

Harry isn’t having it, interrupting halfway through her attempt.

“Was it the one you were wearing when you were swallowing down the little whimpers escaping my mouth and begging me to cum for you? The one I got jizz all over when you tucked my hair behind my ear, pressed your warm lips to it and mumbled, ‘Want it so bad, Harry, please. I love how pretty you look when I make you feel good.’”

A loud popping sound punctures the tension toiling in the air, a shocked yelp accompanying the sound on behalf of Y/N. 

Their intense stare-down breaks to zero in on where the noise had stemmed— the bag pressed against Y/N’s navel. She had gripped it so tight it had burst open, spewing a few marshmallows across the coffee- and caramel-colored marbled counter. 

The blank look of remorsed surprise on Y/N’s features is what finally forces Harry to release the rib-splitting laugh he had been pushing down. 

Her head snaps up at him, eyes narrowing because this was his fault, after all. 

He covers the lower half of his face with his hand to try and stifle the giggles, but to no avail. They continue to wriggle free between the cracks of his fingers. 

Y/N sets down the bag carefully, making sure it’s positioned accordingly so nothing else rolls out. She mutters a colorful array of words under her breath as she collects the rouge marshmallows and Harry’s positive her choice of language would put her on parole in Heaven. 

He lifts his chin from his palm and reaches forward, plucking one between his thumb and forefinger and popping it into his mouth, chewing dramatically to flex his jaw because he can see her taking quick peeks up at him as she cleans. “That was the robe you were talking about, though, right?” 

She doesn’t look up, simply focusing on the task at hand, but her response carries the daggers her eyes would otherwise deliver. “Fuck off.” 

Harry decides that this moment is as good as any to give her the card, mostly because he knows it’ll either push her buttons in deeper or make her drop the grump act. 

He slides it across the smooth plain of the island into her line of sight. “Picked this up ‘cause it reminded me of you.”

Y/N squints at the card, taking in the message along with the risqué art. Her lips press into a thin line, her actions pausing as she hovers a marshmallow in her grasp above the little pile she’s made in her other hand. She blinks at the paper once, then again, and then her top lip twitches. He can immediately tell she’s trying to keep from smiling.

He feels his dimples whittle into place, a giddy burst of energy expanding in his chest now that he knows she liked it. He figured she would, but seeing it confirmed is much more fulfilling than he imagined. 

“It’s no knife to the chest like Romeo and Juliet but I’d say it’s a lovely sentiment. Plus, I’m not really looking to die again. Not a fan.”

His comment is the last piece of the puzzle that sends her into a wave of fond laughter. “God, you’re an idiot.” 

Harry returns her giggling with some of his boyish own, watching with pride as she places the stash of marshmallows back in the bag and then drags her fingers over the lace material glued onto the lingerie drawing, admiring it. 

“It’s called modern romance, darling. Get with the times, it’s not three thousand BC anymore.” 

The easy banter in his attitude causes her smile to grow a bit bigger; it’s easy to match. 

“Such a nice message. We should frame it, honestly. Show off how much of a hopeless loverboy you are.” 

Harry nods his head vigorously, rounding the corner of the counter until he’s standing in front of her, his fingers walking across the stone surface and she snorts at his silliness. His digits hike over the top of her’s, dropping flat to sift between them, feeling the light scratch of the perforated fabric as well as the sleekness of the laminated paper beneath it. 

His eyes flit up from where their hands conjoin, brows shrugging temptingly. “I think we should listen to the card first, though. We can put it up after we go through with its suggestion.” 

“Mm, I dunno…” Y/N squeezes his fingers sarcastically. “My hot chocolate’s about to be done and it’s been waiting much longer than you have.” 

Harry’s jaw drops in an open-mouthed smirk, a sound of airy delight tickling his tongue at the crudeness of her vague joke. “Did…Did you just willingly make a blowie joke?”

Y/N scrunches her brows with fake confusion, cocking her head to the side slightly as if she doesn’t have a single clue at what he’s talking about. “I don’t know, did I?”

Harry snakes his free arm around her hips, flushing their bellies together as he fully coils his fingers around the hand he’d been playing with. “Oh, I think you did.” 

He ducks down for a kiss, lips puckered and itching to caress her skin with his, only to be met with his girlfriend’s temple. She had turned away, biting along the inside of her bottom lip to maintain a cap on the little noises of glee threatening to overflow.

Harry sighs grandly, maneuvering his head to chase after her mouth, aiming for the jerking corner closest to him. She leans back a bit and swiftly jars her head to face the other side, condemning his target to be her left cheekbone instead. 

He groans in mild frustration, shifting their bodies until she ends up pushed against the edge of the counter, the dip of spine bending back over the table. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, coasting up to rest her palms at both of the curves of his neck. She thumbs over the hollow at the center of his throat, eyes flirting with his in a taunting manner. “Doesn’t taste so good when it’s your own medicine, does it?”

“You’ve taken up being the pest in the relationship then, have you?” The hand tangled with her’s goes slack, finding itself cradling her jaw, thumb tapping at the center of her bottom lip ominously. 

Y/N’s painfully aware of the way his forearm is flexing against the lower half of her back and she recognizes it’s in anticipation to lift her off her feet. Her toes curl in her pink socks and she goes a tad cross-eyed as his face draws closer. “No, that’s your job. I just thought I’d get on your nerves.”

“Why?”

“Just because.” 

“That’s a bit bratty, don’t y’think?” The tip of his cold nose feathers along the bridge of her’s. 

She draws her chin back, trying to keep their lips from meeting. “Maybe.”

Harry thrums thoughtfully deep in his chest and she can feel the vibrations transfer across her body, prickling along her cheeks and to the tips of her ears. “Well, you know what I do to brats, don’t you?”

Y/N is suddenly hoisted up off her footing and though she knew it was coming, she still reacts to it out of habit, arms fumbling messily around Harry’s shoulders to keep her from teetering. 

It had been the result he was hoping for because now she’s so close their Cupid’s Bows are knocking and he keeps her suspended for a second— a measly task courtesy of his inhuman strength. Her thighs clench around his hips, feet dangling behind him as she works to keep from slipping down, well aware that her socks would likely betray her to the smooth flooring and deposit her on her bum. 

The warm air of Harry’s low mumble makes the entire lower half of her face sting. 

“Brats get it fucked out of them.” 

Just then, at this energy-packed stand-still moment, the kettle goes off. 

Y/N has never been more thankful. 

She squirms in Harry’s arms and he doesn’t have a choice but to let her down, eyeing her with a condescendingly entertained gaze as she scrambles towards the stove to remove the shrieking kettle from its place. 

He can’t help himself.

He extends his arm forward, swatting at her ass before she’s gotten far enough that he can’t reach her. 

Y/N’s shriek is the same pitch as the kettle’s. 

She gives him the stink eye over her shoulder as he retakes his previous position on the counter with his elbows, chin in hand, the edges of a shit-eating grin peeking through as he bites into the side of his index finger. “I want some, too.”

She rubs her backside slowly as she shifts the kettle from the heated stovetop to a cool one, opening up the cupboard and bringing out two black mugs. She carefully pours the warm milk into each one, mixing in a few tablespoons of powdered cocoa along with some sugar. 

Y/N carries both over to the kitchen island, decorating the top of the mugs with a handful of marshmallows that begin to melt immediately. She pushes Harry’s towards him as she takes a sip of her own, still somewhat seething at him over the rim of her cup. 

Harry’s focuses in on the beverage, a mischievous glint flashing his eyes pitch black as he mumbles a spell underneath his breath. “Incendo.”

The powdery white candy suddenly catches alight, the royal blue fire lapping along the circumference of the mug and charring the contents inside.

Y/N chokes on her cocoa, spluttering into a round of panicked coughing; she hadn’t expected to see their kitchenware burst into flames anytime soon.

Harry’s eyes flit back to their usual juniper green, another enchantment tinging the air. “Exstinguo.” 

The fire goes out as quickly as it had ignited, leaving a very disheveled Y/N blinking dissociatively in its wake. Her sights then pin onto her boyfriend, irritation pinching her eyebrows together. “Was that really necessary?”

Harry shrugs nonchalantly, completely unbothered. “I like the smokey taste it leaves. Reminds me of s’mores.”

He brings the drink up to his mouth, blowing gently before tipping it back, feeling a soothing warmth wash down his neck and chest as it travels down his throat, the sweet, rich taste tingling his taste buds. An airy, appreciative purr rings from his chest. “S’good. Could use some bourbon, though.”

Y/N sets down her mug on the counter, still somewhat miffed, mostly because she knows he only did it to mess with her (probably as revenge for earlier). Both of her hands tighten around the ceramic surface, leeching its warmth into her body to help stifle the cold shot of adrenaline that had shot through her veins. She licks the marshmallow residue off her upper lip, tone passive. “Maybe a little warning next time? Would like a heads up before you try and melt one of our bowls.” 

“That takes all the fun away! It was supposed to be spontaneous.” Harry pauses, catching onto his unintended pun and grinning like an idiot. “Literally.” 

#demon!harry

[imhereiguess556]

The Accident

Chromeskull x OC(female) Alex Hey guys! So this is the first chapter to my story I have been working on for a while. If you ya’ll like it, I’ll post the rest of the chapters on here.  Chapter 1 It had all happened so fast. One minute Alex was going about her day, driving into work. The next minute she woke up in a haze, barely able to move her left arm. Touching her head she groaned as the headache forced her back down onto the pillow. Her vision blurry making her nauseous, closing her eyes tightly. A sharply dressed man and someone looking like they just got off their job working for the Geek squad walked over to her bed side. Alex heard the foot steps and opened her eyes again. While the geek guy with the tablet typed some things in the sharp dresser leaned to her face. “Hello there, I am obligated to ask how you are feeling but quiet frankly I don’t care.”             

Alex closed her eyes tight again, “Am I…In the hospital?” The man huffed and straightened himself out, “No but you don’t need to know where you are. Quite frankly soon you won’t need to know anything about anything soon. I’m going to be taking you to my bo-“While he was talking, Alex lurched to the side of the bed, puking all over his shoes. The man screamed and took a few steps back, “Are you kidding me! These are real leather! HEY! Take care of her while I clean up.” Tablet man nodded and went to the monitors, while the other one walked away in anger.             

“Miss I’m going to need your arm.” The man softly took her arm, but Alex lazily pulled it away, “Noooo my health insurance isn’t going to cover that. I’m broke.” The man took her arm again, but Alex roughly grabbed his neck, starting to choke him out, “No means NO asshole! She shoved him off his feet, causing him to fall back. Alex pulled the tubs off her body and slowly stood up, fumbling down onto the concrete floor. “Oooww….gotta…get to…car…” Crawling to a wall she leaned into it, pushing herself up onto her feet. Walking along the wall, she started making her way out of the makeshift hospital ward. Alex’s vision was slowly coming back, but she still felt loopy. They must have had her on some heavy pain killers or sedatives. Looking down at her arm, she finally noticed it was in a cast.            

 “Well damn, maybe angry man will sign you. But after I get out.” Walking around the building she ended up in a tool show area filled with knives and other weapons. Mouthing the word ‘cool’ she wandered in as two men were grinding down on some metal. One of them noticed her picking up a hunter’s knife with brass knuckles welded to them. “Hey! You can’t be in here!” She turned to them and pointed at what they were making, “Is that a fidget spinner knife?” One of the guys looked down at it, then back at her nodding with a shrug in his shoulders. Alex snickered, “That’s….stupid..” She started wandering away, one of them men picked up the phone yelling ‘code 12’ into it.            Preston was in the bathroom cleaning his shoes when code twelve started getting yelled over the speaker of the building. Preston looked at the door, “Code twelve!? WHAT CODE TWELVE?!” Just then his cellphone went off, a text coming in from ‘Boss’. Picking it up it read ‘why is there a code twelve in my building? Fix it.’ Preston cursed as he pocketed his phone, running out of the bathroom. Alex still wandering the building, she walked up to an office map, rubbing her eyes while she saw double. “Where am I? Is this come kind of private hospital? Oh, shit I’m really gonna get screwed on my insurance. How did I…end up here?”            

Closing her eyes, she focused on what she could remember. She was in her car listening to her favorite playlist while driving somewhere. Her car hit someone else car or they hit her? She got out, talked to the driver, she’s holding something? But then he… she groaned as her head throbbed. That was all her brain was letting her remember at the moment. Looking at the map again she saw a long hallway that looked like it said ‘Boss office’ on it. Figuring that was who to talk to about this, she started wobbling down the hallway again. She wandered into a break room, luckily for her it was empty. Opening their fridge, she saw some waters bottles that she knew she could never afford in her lifetime. Grabbing one with her somewhat free hand she just for the life of her couldn’t remember how to open it. Shrugging as she placed the water bottle on the countertop, Alex used as much of her brain power that she had at the moment. Her solution was to start stabbing at it softly, raising the bottle up, letting the water flow into her mouth.            

“HEY! KNOCK THAT OFF” Snappy dresser Preston was back, and he was pissed. Shaking the bottle off her knife she frowned at him, giving him a meek wave. Rubbing his eyes, Preston glared daggers at her, “If you know what’s good for you, you will follow me back to your bed.” Alex shook her head no, “I’m going to see your boss.” Preston stared walking to her slowly, “You will see him when he comes to see you in the bed. Now come here.” Alex just stood there, staring at the man, watching his moves. Was really going to underestimate someone holding a knife? That’s really stupid of him.            Once in arms length, Preston went to grab her free arm, but Alex pulled back quickly. Dodging around him, she lowered her reach, cutting right behind his knee, causing him to scream out in pain. Preston fell on the ground, holding the back of his leg. “YOU crazy BITCH!” Wiping the blood on her gown she realized she was not in her normal clothes. Frowning she started to wobble out of the room, but not before Preston grabbed her ankle, trying to pull her down. Alex started stomping on his wrist then his head, causing him to yell out in pain. When he let go, she started waddling her way down the hallway.             

After wandering for what felt like forever, she finally found the hallway she was looking for. Still feeling loosely goosey, climbing the stairs was much harder than she thought it would be. Every step causing her to see double, the pain killers must have started to wear off cause now her arm started to hurt. Getting to the top of the stairs, she was greeted by a well-dressed woman. “Ah, so you’re our code twelve I see. The little secret Preston was keeping from our boss Chromeskull.” Alex leaned against the wall, “Are you the head doctor here? I’m starting to hurt. Can I talk to the boss here please? I wanna get my car and leave.” This woman was Spann, though Preston was Chromeskulls right hand man, she recently had been cleaning up all of his messes. After their boss’s accident, Preston had been trying to find ways to get rid of Spann so that he would have full control with the workings of the business. But Spann knew if Preston’s little secret came wondering into Chromeskulls office, she would finally have some leverage to prove to the boss that Preston was an incompetent boob.             

Spann took Alexs shoulder and walked her towards the boss’s office door.  Opening it for Alex, Spann ushered the weak woman in, closing the door behind her. The dark office made it a little easier to see. The lights were hurting her eyes anyways. A computerized voice came from her side, ‘How did you get in here?’ Alex turned to see a man sitting at the desk. He was wearing a black dress shirt and a black suit jacket on, buts all she could make out, the computer moneters light didn’t show his face. Alex pointed to the door, “Angry dress man said you wanted to see me..or…at the bed?” The pain was making her whole body pulsate. Her body was not use to her walking around anymore. How long was she out for?            

Alex walked towards the desk, holding up the knife but placing it down in front of him, “Sorry about your knife. Its cool so I took it with me.  Do you…where am I?” She could feel the man staring at her but not showing his face. He pulled a cellphone out of his jacket pocket, typing something. Holding the phone out, it started talking ‘You should not be here.’ Alex nodded, “I told sharp dress man that but he said I was a surpise for you and honestly don’t like surpises they stress me out so I puked on him and…and..” She covered her mouth, heaving coming from her throat. The man at the desk stood up quickly, walking over to her, he pulled her towards the private bathroom. A big hand slid to pull her long copper hair back as she puked into the toilet.           

 “I-I’m sor-“ She heaved again, using her all strength to hold up her shaking body. “I don’t remember anything. Just car accident an-“ Alex’s time was up, all her energy was gone, her shaky hand reached for him clinging onto his dress shirt. Alex felt what was a napkin wipe her face. Follower by a glass of water, gulping it down and Alex started ugly crying. “Thank you. You’re nice.” Looking up at his face, she was greeting by a metallic skull looking town at her. The man towered over her, broad shoulders, masculine jaw, and a chrome skull mask staring at her. Maybe it was the drugs still in her body, maybe it was the exhaustion but Alex just hugged the man, snuggling her face into his defined chest her tears soaking into his jacket. They both stood there for a minute until Alex pulled back, looking up at him. Her vision going double again, then black, her body giving out, “Oh down I go” Her body falling over, but towering man caught her half way down.            

Preston ran into Chromeskulls office, his leg bandaged and his face red from running. Chrome skull was sitting behind his desk again while Alex was sleeping on his couch, his jacket cover her. ‘Why is she here.’ Chromeskulls phone asked Preston.  Preston straightens himself out,  “I know this looks bad, but she’s the woman from the accident I told you about! See, we all know you’re looking for someone who looks like your dead wife so here she is! Close look huh?” Chromeskull sat in silence, eventually typing, ‘Get out.’ Preston pointed at Alex, “So I’m in trouble for trying to do something good for you?! If Spann did this, you’d be over the moon! I do everythin-“Chromeskull stood up and typed, ‘Get out’ one more time. Preston huffed and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Chromeskull let out a sigh as he texted Spann to get the body moving car ready , as well as make sure one of the doctors was ready to depart with their medical supplies. He looked at the passed out woman, studying her features. Pulling out his wallet he pulled out an old photo. It was one of him and his late wife, her face beaming with joy. Oh god, this woman's smile was almost a perfect match that it was eerie. Was he about to go through with the idea of tricking someone into being his wife? Would that even work?

#chromeskull #slashers

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Outside the Rain - Harry Styles Series (Part 22)

Part 21

You were finally out of the hospital and back home after surgery. You thought you would feel better once the surgery was over, but alas, you actually felt worse. Your knee was constantly throbbing or in pain, so you took pain meds, which made you feel sleepy and nauseous. Plus, you were over the bedridden thing and not being able to do anything for yourself. Both your parents and Harry had been staying with you and you could tell things were getting overcrowded. 

Everyone was taking turns helping you and looking out for you, but you could see some underlying issue going on. During the times you were awake, Harry would sit next to you and watch a movie or a tv show. You two hadn’t really spoken much, but you were a little loopy or sleeping most of the time anyway. 

Once a week had passed, you were determined to not take any pain meds, except at night. You were also determined to not be in bed all day and requested help to move to the couch, so you could at least sit up. Harry had come into your room to check on you and you begged him to help you move into the living room.

Instead of wrapping his arms around you and helping you walk, he picked you up and carried you. You instinctively put your head against his neck and he kissed the top of your head. He laid you down on the couch and helped prop up your leg. 

“What would you like for breakfast?” He asked. 

“Anything besides eggs,” you groaned. “Maybe some toast to start?” 

He nodded heading into the kitchen. 

“Are my parents here?” You asked noticing the house seemed a little less full. 

“I told them they could go out for a bit if they wanted to take a break,” he said. 

“Because I’m such a pain in the ass?” You mumbled. 

Harry looked over at you, “No, baby, you’re not.” 

“Yes, I am,” you sighed. “You don’t have to lie. My parents have their own lives to get back to, you have a life...” 

“That you’re in,” he said. “Baby, I don’t mind helping take care of you, besides I know if the roles were reversed you would be taking care of me as well.” 

You nodded as he brought over to the toast, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said. 

You nibbled on your toast as you scrolled through his phone. 

“How long are you staying?” You asked. 

“As long as I need to,” he said. “Why?” 

“Because I can tell you don’t want to be here,” you sighed. 

“Okay, what? Where is this coming from?” He asked. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Don’t do that,” you said. “I might be injured, but I’m not blind, stupid, or seeing stuff.” 

“Y/N, what-” Harry asked. 

“You’ve barely spoken to me since being here and even before then. You were late to my surgery, there’s something going on between you and my parents, so just tell me,” you sighed. “Is it because of this? Because you didn’t sign up to take care of a girlfriend you’ve only been with for a few months. I get it, it’s a lot, but just... tell me if you don’t-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he said. 

“Well, what do you expect me to think, Harry? Ever since I got hurt, you’ve been distant,” you sighed. 

“Look, we can talk about this later, when you’re better,” he said. 

“So, there is something,” you sighed. “What did I do? Just tell me.” 

He sighed shaking his head, “I don’t want to get into this right now.” 

“Damnit, Harry!” You sighed. “I’m a big girl, I can take whatever it is. If you want out, just fucking say it!” 

“Bloody hell, Y/N! Stop it! I don’t want out! I fucking love you,” he said. “So, just stop with the pity party.” 

“Well, what else am I supposed to think when you won’t even talk to me!” You said. 

“Fine! Fine, you want to know why I’ve been distant?” He asked. 

“Obviously, I’ve only been asking for the last five minutes!” You snapped. 

“I saw it, okay?” He said. “I saw the picture of your ex boyfriend you’re still keeping in your drawer. So, if anyone should be worried about wanting an out of the relationship, it should be me. Why do you still have it? And why do you have  it in a drawer? Do you look it at every time you get clothes out or some shit? That’s why I’ve been distant because I didn’t want to have this moment while you were already going through shit.” 

“Seriously?” You asked. “You’ve acted like a dick for weeks because of a stupid picture.” 

“If it’s so stupid, why do you have it? And why do you have it in your drawer? The only people who do that are someone who wants to keep it hidden,” he said. 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you said. “But I can tell you it’s been at least a year since I put it in there. I didn’t even know that was there nor do I care. If I had seen in the drawer, I would have thrown it away.” 

“You say that, now,” he said. “Only because I’m confront you about it.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Are you hearing yourself right now? Because you waited so long to actually bring this up, you’ve conjured up this whole scenario in your head that doesn’t even exist. And you know for someone who is so annoyingly pissed at me for having a fucking photo hidden away in a drawer of a ex, seems perfectly okay to still wear a ring from his fucking ex!” 

“I haven’t even worn that ring in months,” he said. 

“But you still have it,” you said. “Along with others, but you don't see me being a bitch about it, now to you.” 

“Well, what do you call this?” He asked. 

“Fuck you!” You snapped. 

“Woah! What’s going on here?” Your Dad asked as your parents walked in the door. 

“I need some air,” Harry sighed walking past them and out of the door. 

You sniffled throwing the plate across the room and it shattering as soon as it hit the wall. 

“Y/N!” Your mom shouted. “Honey, what happened?” 

“I hate this!” You cried. “I’m over i! I just want everything to be back to normal!” 

“I know, baby,” she said wrapping her arms around you. “Why don’t we get you back in bed, yeah? You don’t need to get yourself all worked up.” 

“Too late,” you sniffled. 

“Y/dad’s/name, come on, help me get her to her room,” she said. 

“I’m fine,” you shook your head. 

“Honey, no you’re not,” she said. “You need your rest.” 

You wanted to fight back, to prove you were fine and didn’t need to go take  nap like a toddler, but you had used a lot of energy with your argument with Harry. Your parents helped you back to bed and it didn’t take long before you fell asleep. 

**

I know it’s shorter... but I hope you liked it! :) 

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Outside the Rain

[igottoomuchwriting]

Logic is the Worst

Richard did not understand why the detective had to make a habit of disappearing during crime scenes. It was starting to get on the androids nerves.

Richard does not remember seeing the detective after they arrived. It was as if as soon as he parked the car, he ran away from Richard’s sights. If he did not stay near his partner, he does not doubt that something bad may happen.

Though, nothing bad ever happens. Logically the detective knows what he is doing. Though Richard was built to do the same things as Gavin plus some, Gavin has more expertise by being in the field constantly. He knows how to hide, how to talk down suspects, how to dodge a bullet and what to do if he gets hit. He even has Richard on speed dial so that if anything happens and Richard is not near him, he can easily contact his partner.

That being said, they were called for a drug raid. That is what Richard remembers at least. It is not often that they get separated when it comes to drugs, seeing as drug addicts can be very unpredictable and either of them could get hurt in a split second. 

If Richard did not find the detective soon, he was sure that he would have to contact the lieutenant or Connor for backup.

A notification popped up in the corner of Richard’s vision.

Gavin Reed: hurry up tincan

Of course. It was just like the detective to slip away without Richard realizing it and then treating it as if the android is the slow one. Richard is sure that they have had many races proving that is quite the opposite from the truth.

Richard brushed away the notification and started walking towards the address. It was a normal warehouse, one that may have been abandoned. There is no files of it being considered abandoned, but Richard could not find information on the current owner. It was unusual for him to not find information like that, but it can happen every once in a while.

It is then that Richard hears gunshots coming from inside the warehouse. He stops where he is standing for just a second before he hears someone yell in pain.

It is not hard to identify that yell as Gavin Reed’s voice.

Richard immediately starts running towards the warehouse, panic filled his body. Missions are popping up in his view, all focused around the man.

[Find Gavin Reed]

[Save Gavin Reed]

[Arrest shooter]

[Take Gavin Reed to a hospital]

Richard scanned the area, looking for the best route to the warehouse. The only route he could find was a door on the other side of the building.

Time was ticking. He could tell by the yell that Gavin was in pain, but not dead, so it is likely that the shooter is still there, teasing Gavin. Threatening him, yelling at him, hurting him.

All he could picture was Gavin laying on the floor, clutching whatever part of his body was shot, waiting for Richard to show up. Waiting for his partner, who was supposed to be there to save him, to protect him, to show up and do his job.

Richard finally located the door into the warehouse. He grabbed his handle and pushed his whole body against the door, but it would not open. Someone had locked the door, as if they were planning to separate the detective from his partner.

Without thinking, Richard started throwing his body against the door. He kicked the doorknob, punched where the lock would be, throwing his body against the hinges, but with no luck. It was as if the door had never been opened and could never be opened.

Warnings started flashing in Richard’s vision. Time ticking down until Gavin would most likely be dead, warnings against the wounds on his hands and shoulders, warnings against his systems overheating. He did not care, he just needed to get to the detective.

“Detective Reed!” he yelled through the door. “Detective Reed, answer me!”

Richard heard quiet laughing on the other side of the door, a laugh that did not belong to the detective. Richard continued banging against the door, kicking and pushing with the hope that the door would eventually give.

He heard shuffling, then a quiet mumble.

“N-Nines…” It was Gavin. He sounded weak, hurt, in pain. It was so quiet that Richard almost did not pick it up, even with his advanced hearing.

“Detective! Hang in there, I will help you!” Why was he promising something he didn’t know? The door was not budging no matter how much force Richard put in. This had never happened. He was the most advanced model, built for the US army to use in war. Why could he not get past a fucking door when he was built to take down a shooter in less than ten seconds?

“Nines… help,” he heard Gavin groan. It was quiet, full of pain. Before he could respond, comfort him, break the door, anything, he heard a gunshot.

“Detective Reed?” he yelled. “Gavin! Gavin, answer me!”

Silence.

“Gavin!” he cried. 

[Mission Failed]

---

Richard shot up from where he sat, scanning the area. There were warnings that his system was overheating, a message telling him that he was taken out of stasis due to his thirium pump overworking itself, but he paid no mind to them.

He was in Gavin’s living room. Why was he there? What had happened.

It had all come back to him. He and the detective had been watching a movie together, having a date night after a long week of work. Richard had not gone into stasis for about five days and while he could go longer without resetting his system, he was starting to get what humans refer to as loopy. Gavin had insisted that he go into stasis until the movie is over, that he would wake Richard up when it was over.

Richard checked his internal clock. 3:24 am. The detective had not kept his promise.

[Find Gavin Reed]

The mission he remembers staring at in his vision flashed across the screen. Richard quickly stood up and made his way to the man’s bedroom, attempting to use logic in his moments of panic.

He quietly opened the door to Gavin’s bedroom, scanning the area. There were piles of clothes all over the floor, the hamper being filled with clean clothes that the detective has yet to fold. His famous leather jacket was thrown on the back of a chair and Richard found his gun lying on his bed. Gavin refused to have it anywhere but there when he was home, not wanting to leave it somewhere that an intruder could get to easily without waking him up. Richard had tried multiple times saying that as long as Richard was there it did not matter, but Gavin was firm.

He scanned for any life in the room. Gavin’s cats were laying in various places, all sleeping soundly in the early hours of the morning. They were never bothered by the android moving around. They had become accustomed to the fact that he does not sleep often, and will instead tidy up the detective’s house, go over cases, or watch shows that he knows Gavin would not watch with him.

He moved his eyes to the bed. Richard immediately relaxed when he found Gavin’s body shape under the blankets, sleeping soundly. His scan told him that all his vitals were fine, that the man was still alive. 

[New mission: Protect Gavin Reed]

It was a vague mission. Protect him from what? Richard had scanned the room many times to find no dangers, yet the mission would not go away. Richard had tried leaving the room but the mission flashed violently in the corner of his vision, a reminder. His programming would not let him focus on anything other than making sure that the detective stayed safe and alive.

Richard made his way over to where Gavin was laying. He and Gavin have slept in the same bed together, but Gavin had chosen to not wake up the android once the movie was over. There must be a reasoning against this and Richard wanted to respect that, but as for now, he felt better if he was with the detective.

Slowly, Richard sat down on the bed next to Gavin, watching him as he laid down for any signs of movement. He turned his body in a way that it could face the detectives back, where he would be able to watch for any sudden change in breathing patterns or if someone decided that they were going to break in and attack him.

That didn’t seem to be enough. Richard could not relax with just watching. He carefully placed his hand over Gavin’s side and wrapping it around so that his hand can rest in the center of his chest, right where his heart is.

Gavin took a deep breath at the motion. Luckily he did not wake, but grabbed Richard’s arm and gave it a squeeze before relaxing again. Richard let himself smile at the motion. It seemed that Gavin did not mind being held at night. He stored that information in his memory for later use before fully relaxing and waiting for the detective to wake up.

---

Gavin let out a deep breath as he felt himself be pulled from sleep. He used to panic when he woke up without an alarm, but after so many years working at the DPD, he’s honestly stopped giving a shit. He was so used to waking up on his own, whether it was before or after his alarm, with not a care in the world. 

The only new thing about waking up this morning was the arm around his waist.

Gavin was startled when he felt a hand on his chest. He specifically remembers going to bed by himself yesterday, and any new person his cats did not recognize would have faced the wrath of their angry claws and screeches, as well as Gavin being woken up to that and probably shooting the fucker in the face.

Then he remembered Nines had stayed over. They were watching a movie together when he passed out. Gavin had told the android that he would wake him up when the movie ended, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it when the time came. He knew that Nines had been working himself into the ground just to get things done and that he needed as much rest as he needed. Plus, he was a little afraid that waking up an android built for the military could have some serious consequences.

This also wasn’t the first time that Gavin had let Nines sleep somewhere in his house without him. So that just posed the question—why was he sleeping in Gavin’s bed?

Gavin uses the little energy he has to roll over in bed, full expecting Nines to be in stasis. Maybe he woke up and realized he was still in the living room so he moved to the bed.

No, because the fucker was just staring at Gavin with unblinking eyes. A heart attack was not how he wanted to wake up that morning, but that’s what he got.

“Jesus, Nines!” Gavin hissed. “Are you trying to fucking kill me? Why are you staring at me like a creepy fucker?”

Gavin waited for a snarky response back. He expected some remark about how he sleeps in too late, or that he is just easy to scare, which would then prompt Gavin trying to kick him out of bed in anger.

Nines didn’t say anything. He just stared at the detective, LED turning a steady yellow. Gavin glanced at the light and back to his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Hey, Nines. You good?” Nines stayed silent, though he gave Gavin a nod. 

Gavin watched him with further concern. He can’t remember a time that Nines was this quiet, or a time where his LED was flashing yellow for so long. How long has it been flashing like that?

Gavin sat up in bed and watched as Nines’ eyes followed him, not once blinking or breaking contact. Gavin placed his hand on Nines’ shoulder and gently started rubbing his arm, hoping to bring some comfort to his boyfriend. 

Nines melts in the touch, part of whatever was worrying him disappearing. He was still tense and wouldn’t look away, but at least he was relaxing just a bit.

Suddenly there was a bang out in the living room, followed by hissing. Gavin let out a groan.

“Fucking cats,” he mumbled. He turned around to hop off the bed when the arm around his waist tightened and pulled him back.

Gavin let out a yelp as he fell back, back resting against Nines’ side, as the android was still laying down.

“Nines, what the fuck!” he snapped. He tried sitting up again, but Nines still wouldn’t let him up.

“You can’t go,” the android spoke. “You can’t.” 

Now Gavin was really confused. Nines has never been this worried about him unless he had just gotten shot, and even then he would be allowed to leave his bed. He also avoided using contractions as often as he could, once telling Gavin that he sounded ‘unsophisticated’ when he used them.

He watched as Nines’ LED flashed from yellow to red before realizing that whatever is going on is way more serious than what Nines was trying to let on.

“Hey, Richard,” he whispered. He only used Nines actual name when he knew there was an actual problem, wanting to show that he sees him, that he is alive. “What’s going on?”

“I…” he started, but trailed off. Gavin patiently waited for the android to collect his thoughts. “I had a vision where you died.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” The arm around his waist tightened as Nines’ LED started flashing faster. Gavin grabbed his arm in an attempt to comfort him and bring him back to reality. He wouldn’t be able to help his boyfriend if he decided to get lost in his own thoughts.

“How did I die?”

“It really is not going to help me if I recount the event, Gavin,” Nines snapped. 

“It’s not going to help you if you keep it bottled up, babe.” Nines stayed silent. He is constantly forcing Gavin to talk about his nightmares—assuming that is what Nines means by vision—so it is only logical that Gavin forces him to talk about his. “Please tell me. I don’t want you scaring yourself constantly because you think that I am going to die.”

“We were on a mission,” the android started, speaking slowly. Gavin said nothing when he took another long pause. “We had just arrived at the crime scene when you randomly disappeared like you always do. I did not think anything of it at the time, just assuming that you were somewhere waiting for me, attempting to show that you were the ‘better detective’.”

“I had received a text from you saying to ‘hurry up’, so I quickly made my way to the warehouse that we were called to. Before I reached the warehouse, I heard gunshots going off. I then quickly ran to find where they were coming from, to find if you had been hurt in anyway. I had assumed that they came from inside the warehouse so my first action was to find a way in.”

“The only way in was through a side door. The door would not open though.” Gavin watched as Nines’ LED started flashing red, though it stayed yellow most of the time. Gavin kept rubbing his arm in an attempt to keep him calm and to show that he could go on, that Gavin was here to comfort him.

“I—I could not get the door open. No matter where I hit it or how much I put behind trying to break it, I could never get the door open. And I just—” Nines let out a static noise in distress, something between a groan and a cry. Gavin quickly hushed him, running a hand through his hair. 

“Richard, it’s okay. You don’t have to continue. If it is too painful to keep talking about it then you should stop, babe.”

Nines shook his head in a response. Apparently he has decided that he is going to talk about this no matter what. He is never one to end a mission half way through.

“I could hear you calling out to me,” Nines whispered, pain deep in his voice. “I heard you say my name, calling me to help you. I called out to you, telling you to hang on, to wait for me to get in, but you couldn’t. The shooter, he—” 

Gavin pulled Nines up once he started crying, pushing the android’s face into his shoulder and hugging him close. Nines wrapped his arms around his waist and started crying harder. 

Gavin wanted to cry as well. He has never seen Nines cry before, and the fact that the first time he sees him cry is because of a nightmare he had where Gavin died? Some of it even seems logical, which is the worst thing. Apparently it is common for androids’ nightmares to have logic in them with only few illogical things happening. Connor has brought up the fact to Nines that when he has a nightmare, it takes days for him to convince himself that it won’t happen, or that it is a nightmare and not a memory. 

“It’s okay Ricky… Don’t worry, I’m not dead. It’s gonna take more than a bullet to take me out.”

“No it won’t!” Nines pushed back from Gavin and glared at the detective, tears still running down his face. “One bullet and you’re dead, Gavin! Once your dead, you’re gone!”

“I’ve been shot before,” Gavin calmly states. He grabs Nines face and wipes away the new wave a tears that are pouring down the android’s face. “I’ll be shot again. With you as my partner, none of those are going to be bad enough to kill me.”

“But I could not reach you,” Nines mumbled.

“What door is going to hold back the most advanced android that Cyberlife ever made?” Gavin asked. “Babe, you were built to fight five soldiers at once! There is no way that we would get to a warehouse that has a door you can’t get through.”

Nines looked away from Gavin, processing the information. It was weird for Gavin that he was in the position of trying to logic Nines out of a nightmare or anxiety attack. Usually it’s the other way around.

“I...suppose you are right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Gavin laughed. Nines shot the detective a glare, but it held no hatred. “Richard, Nines, love of my life, you wouldn’t let me get hurt. It is not physically possible for me to die when I’m around you.”

Nines moved his eyesight down to the bed underneath them, processing everything Gavin had said. Gavin grabbed the android’s hand and gave it a kiss.

“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s go cuddle on the couch and watch some movies that only have happy endings.”

“Having happy endings constantly is unrealistic,” Nines mumbled, but followed Gavin into the living room anyway.

“Well, watching movies where people die isn’t going to help you get over your nightmare, dumbass.” Nines rolled his eyes but he let out a smile anyway. 

Gavin watched Nines LED stop flashing aggressively, but instead a slow process between blue and yellow.

It was progress.

#detroit become human #dbh nines #dbh gavin #dbh #nines x gavin #gavin reed #rk900 #dbh fanfiction #fanfiction #sunwriting

[melyaliz]

Kissing under the fireworks while third and fourth wheeling

Fandom: Marvel / X-Men 

Prompts: “It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.” and “Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day.”

Pairing: Peter Maximoff and Gemma D’Angelis (my oc) 

Notes: I have been struggling with writer’s block (among other things) so here is some fluff. Blame the writer’s block on the choppiness of it. I also didn’t know how to end it so I just of just did. 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE 

——--------------------------

“You ready?” Scott asked rubbing the back of his head as Jean looked inquisitively at the car. Peter waved from the front passenger seat with Gemma in the driver’s seat. Large smiles on both their faces. 

Never a good sign.  

“So this is a double date?” Jean asked getting inside the car scooting over as Scott followed her in. 

“No, we’re just third and fourth wheeling,” Gemma said pointing to herself and Peter who nodded fiddling with the radio. 

“You crazy kids need supervision” 

“You guys just wanted to get junk food and ride rides didn’t you.” 

Gemma laughed “the first one to puke looses” 

“Oh man you are so on,” Peter said pressing play on the cassette player. Pat Benatar blasted from the radio. “Love it a Battlefield” 

“As promised no Rock or Metal,” Peter said looking back at Scott giving him a thumbs-up. 

“Are these all anti-love songs?”

“If you call Thriller an anti-love” 

“This is why you're my favorite,” Gemma said before belting out the lyrics. Soon it became a singing match for who could get the loudest and most annoying. 

Scott sighed rubbing his temples. What was he thinking inviting Peter to this? Next to him, he felt a gentle hand take his. Turning Jean smiled at him, “this is perfect.” 

--------

“So, we are loading up on food, and then should we hit the rides or games first?” Peter asked as he watched Jean and Scott walk off toward the craft booths. 

“Actually,” Gemma said pointing toward the large barn that sat in the center of the fairgrounds, “I was kind of hoping to see the animals” 

Peter bowed holding his hand out “Lead the way” causing Gemma to giggle before skipping ahead. 

“Ok, but having the power to turn into a bunny would be the best.”

“Are you kidding me? What would you do? Hop on them to death.”

Gemma giggled at Peter’s disgusted face as she stroked the beautiful fluffy rabbit through its cage “You could sneak into any room unnoticed. And think of how fun it would be to cuddle. You would bring joy to everyone.” 

“I already do that, have you seen this face.” 

Gemma turned looking at him then back at the small ball of fluff. “Sorry, he’s still cuter,” she said nodding toward the little bunny. 

“Awww Come on Gems…” Peter said as they walked toward the goats, “You really think that little thing would be a better cuddler than me?” taking a few long strides he started walking backward so he could look at Gemma as they walked, “Because believe me I am a phenomenal cuddler.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Looking around Gemma nodded toward a foot cart, “deep-fried goodness?” 

“I thought you would never ask,” Peter said dashing toward the cart, just a little faster than he should have. Gemma’s fingers twitched from the aftermath of the energy that he produced when he ran. Although she hadn’t been sleeping that well as of late, so a little extra energy could help. One of the perks of being friends with a speedster. He always had the energy to spare and when your power was literally sucking the energy from things it balanced out nicely. 

“So I couldn’t decide so I got one of everything,” Peter said turning to Gemma arms filled with food, “So what are you ordering?” 

“I was thinking deep-fried butter because… it’s deep-fried butter but the twinkie seems like a good idea.”  

“Why not get both?” 

“Yeah… I don’t have your metabolize. If I try and eat all that shit you’ll have to roll me out of here like Violet from Willy Wonka” 

“Ok but… now I want to see that.” 

“How about we watch the pig races instead?” Gemma said pointing to a sign.  “Seems fitting while we stuff our faces.” 

They sat there and watched all the races, betting on pigs and cheering so loud they ended up, very kindly, getting asked to leave. 

“I think screaming, suck my dick Peter, probably was too much for a family event,” Peter said laughing as they both walked off. 

“So lame,” Gemma muttered as she reached up to take another fist full of Peter’s popcorn only to hit air. Turning confused she saw Peter frowning down at her holding his bucket above his head.

“Excuse me.” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t say you could have my snacks.” 

“Wow, and here I thought we were friends,” Gemma said rolling her eyes starting to walk off leaving Peter standing there with his popcorn alone. Something Peter didn’t like. 

“Fine” the bucket hit her chest as she took another step stopping her. Dust slightly kicked up from Peter’s quick movements to get in front of her. Giving him a large sweet smile she took a handful of the snack. Gemma would NEVER admit it but Peter was so easy to manipulate. Just act like you didn’t care and he instantly did what you wanted. That boy needed all the attention. 

“Thank you, Peter.” 

“You’re welcome, Gemma.”  It was just the sun and all the sugar she had been eating, but for a moment Gemma felt slightly light-headed looking up at Peter’s smile. Those dimples and mischievous brown eyes. It was also all the fun that made her heart pick up just a bit as they stood there looking at each other. It wasn’t the way he had just said her name, or how close he felt at that moment. 

Nope, just the magic of the fair.

“So rides until we puke?” 

“You do realize I literally run faster than any of these.” 

“But do you hang upside down?” 

“I’ve run upside down.” 

Gemma tapped her chin as she got some tickets for the rides, “Not sure if that’s the same thing.” 

“Guess we’ll find out,” Peter said as he stood next to her in line for the ride. Both of them watching as the large pendulum looking machine swung. Both of them lost in their own thoughts for a few moments. “Are you going to be ok with this?” Peter’s voice was low causing Gemma to turn confused before realizing what he was referring too. 

Her powers.

“I… I didn’t even think about that,” she admitted biting her lip turning to the ride again as it slowed. She would have to make a decision quickly. “I think at least one should be ok.” 

Peter nodded, eyes forward, his hands in his pockets stance very relaxed. Gemma couldn’t help but smile at him. He had been concerned about her. Actually been really thoughtful. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she said skipping lightly ahead letting the attendant help her into a seat.

“Nice shirt,” the kid said nodding toward her Metallica as he buckled her in. 

“Thank you, I maybe have snuck into their concert last year.”

“Sick, I have their second album in my car been jamming to it all week.”

“Oh, man Ride the Lighting is killer. That guitar intro just gets me every time.” 

The worker chuckled nodding as he pushed on her bar one more time to make sure it was secure.

“Hey buddy, you going to check the rest of us?” Peter’s asked waving toward the guy.

“Yeah sure man.” the guy said half-heartedly checking Peter before nodding toward Gemma and walking back to his station. Peter rolled his eyes and was about to say something to Gemma when the ride started. 

Peter was right about energy. The g-force, as well as the machine itself, had Gemma feeling slightly light-headed. Breathing she tried to focus, enjoying it rushing around her and trying to let it flow through her without capturing it. 

As the ride slowed she shook her head giggling feeling loopy. “Have fun?” the attendant asked as he unbuckled her. Gemma nodded eyes bright.

“Yeah, definitely a total rush.” 

The attendant reached to help her down when Peter came up next to him. “I got it, buddy,” he told him frowning as he took Gemma’s hand. His grip on her hand just a little tighter than the had to be.

“You feel ok?”

“Yup” Gemma nodded taking another deep breath, she knew her hands were buzzing but Peter was used to it after all their training sessions together. Hopping from one foot to another she let out another giggle the energy coursing through her veins. It was like a caffeine high, having all that energy rush through her. She felt like she could conquer the world while playing a guitar solo. 

“Let’s do another ride.” 

“You sure?” 

“Hell yeah!” 

So they did. 

And they kept riding on rides until Gemma couldn’t stand it anymore. Laughing and bouncing off the wall she needed to get away from it all. So they walked the entire fair just talking. Peter getting some chocolate covered peanuts and having Gemma toss them into his mouth. The crazier the catch the better. Soon he was jumping off trashcans doing backflips.  

That got them, once again, kindly asked to leave. 

So they continued on finding themselves on a small patch of grass away from the crowds on the outskirts of the fair. Both laying in the grass looking up at the ever-darkening sky. Raising her hand Gemma smiled as little sparks flickered across her fingertips.

“You doing ok?” Peter asked turning to her, she met his gaze nodding.

“It’s getting easier to control, thanks for asking Peter.” 

“No problem Gemma” 

Both of them just staring at each other, lost in their own thoughts. 

“I like it when they do that,” Peter muttered, his dark eyes studying Gemma’s blue ones as they flickered with energy. He knew it was a sign of her powers charged up, unsure of what to do with the excess energy she had gathered.

“What do what?” 

“You’re eyes” 

“Oh, shit are they.” She groaned putting her hand over her eyes rolling back onto her back.

“No!” Peter said pulling her hand away from her eyes, his body instantly above hers. “It’s so cool, don’t hide it.” 

She looked up at him realizing their position. Feeling the pressure of his chest on hers she felt her heart rate pick up. He was so warm yet, she felt a shiver go through her body.

“Thank you” the moment the words left her mouth Gemma winced, really? Thank you. What about, you have nice eyes too? Or, kiss me, please.

It was like he read her mind. His head dipping down lips capturing hers. She felt a thrill go through her stronger than any energy surge. Leaning forward she tried to chase the feeling only to have him pull away. 

“Uhh sorry I… should have asked or like…”

Gemma was too busy pulling him back by his leather jacket to listen to “come back” 

 He did so gladly

Kissing her softly and slowly. Savoring her taste as if he had never tasted anything so sweet. It was weird to think about seeing as he seemed to do everything else so quickly. Yet here and now, he felt so present. 

It was like magic as he deepened the kiss and then the fireworks went off. He pulled away smiling down at her with a huge grin. Bright rainbow lights flashing across her face as she looked up at him with the same smile. 

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day.”

“Too bad it’s night” was the soft reply. Ever the smartass. 

“Well, you know what kissing at night leads too.” Peter winked leaning down again to kiss her. To his pure delight, he felt her smile against his lips. 

This is what he wanted, to make her smile and kiss her forever. 

“And you guys said we needed the supervision.” Peter let out a soft groan at Scott’s voice above them. Pulling away he looked up to see the young man looking down at them arms crossed across his chest. Jean trying not to laugh next to him.

“Please don’t tell me you guys didn’t get ANY action. And after Peter set up such a romantic mood for you two on the way over.” Gemma said making Peter snicker.

She would probably keep him smiling forever too. 

 -GET TAGGED!- 

Tagging: @royslittleharper​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​ @coffee-randomness​​ @werewitchling @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear​​ @  @jason-redhood​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @ocelysium @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep 

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x you #Peter Maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff fanfic #peter maximof #peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff imagine #x-men x reader #X-men fanfic #x-men imagine #my writing #my oc #The Thief and the Outlaw #Peter Maximoff x Gemma D'Angelis #They are turning into my happy place

[owlespresso]

Rejuvenation

Warning: this is full on smut.  My tip jar is open! I write headcanons in exchange for donations! If you’re interested, check it out HERE. I am also open for commissions, information HERE. A big thanks to @darthsuki, who helped SO MUCH with this piece!

“Are you sure this’ll work?”

The canopy of the forest is a rotted, purple and brown sky. Vivid greens are now dull reminders of what Savalierwood used to be. Its trees are gnarled, bark twisted and greyed and splintered. It’s eerily quiet. 

No small creatures scuttle in the brush, no birds chirp and sing. You wish you could see what this place looked like before the life began to bleed from it. Maybe you’ll find out.

“We’ll find out,” Caduceus rumbles. He echoes your thoughts and the sight of him, so very close, reassures you. He’s a vivid strike of color among your decepit surroundings, a welcoming sight, nestled with you in the browned, dead grass. There’s no one else here but the two of you, and you find solace in it, even with this weird sex ritual you’ve decided to help him with.

When he’d come to ask you about it, he’d been understandably sheepish. His knuckles rapped gently against the wood of the door and he leaned against the frame. His gaze glued on the wood plank floor, his smile the shyest you’d ever seen him wear. The flutter of his eyelashes when he finally looked up at you made your heart stutters.

There’d been no chance of saying “no”, especially not now. Not when his large, warm hands are resting on your hips, the size making you swallow in pure awe, maybe trepidation. The texture of his soft fur against your skin is a stark contrast to the chilled air. You brace your hands against his shoulders and he shifts with a little “hold on” to warn you. He brings you further into the spell circle of sticks and twigs and flowers he’s artfully arranged around you both.

“Okay,” You murmur, jolting when his still-clothed cock bumps against your clothed cunt. God, he’s huge. You wonder if you’re going to be able to take all of that—and the thought makes want throb deep inside.  “I… I guess we should start,” One of your hands cups his cheek, thumb brushing against the fur. He looks at you with an innocent, eager kind of curiosity.

“Okay,” He echoes and his forehead presses against yours. The gesture is surprisingly intimate, and soothing.

You can make out each, individual eyelash, a mere piece of the gorgeous, grand ensemble that makes up his entire being. His head tilts forward and his lips press against yours. The contact is curious, explorative, while his hands roam up your sides, sending goosebumps over your skin at the juxtaposition between temperatures.

The tickle of the cool grass against your bare knees adds to the pile of sensations and the stretch of the darkened trunks feels like a safety net more than anything. The moment is private, yet wide open.

The kiss is slow and lasting, and it takes him a moment to tilt his head to get a better angle. The broad of his tongue rasps against your lips and his audacity makes you gasp. His tongue hovers hesitantly between your mouths and only moves when you caress his tongue with your own.

An appreciative hum rumbles in the back of her throat. His roaming left hand ceases its investigative path to wrap around your back, tugging you into his body. Your chests press tight together, the tufts of his pink hair teasing your perked nipples.

You suck in a deep breath and arch your back just as a need for air forces him to part from your lips. You gasp and pant, as exhilaration throbs like a heartbeat in your cunt and shit—you’re already wet.

He trails kisses along your jawline,, his affection sluggish and experimental.

“You smell really nice,” He sighs, voice dripping low with want, warm breath pressing into your skin. His teeth experimentally scrape over your neck and you let a whine slip out. Let him know how good you feel. This is his first time. He’s probably nervous.

The noise makes him still, before he continues a gentle path down to your chest.

—And then you start to see it. Brilliant, gold sparks of energy that pulse from your skin where his lips had been and vanish into the air. Your eyes widen and your grip on him tightens. “Is it supposed to do that?” You ask, voice an urgent whisper.

“Mhm, I think so,” He says, tongue rasping over your collarbone. The wetness left behind immediately chills against the air and makes goosebumps rise, “The magic is jump-started by touch, or when one of us feels good.”

“O-Okay,” You stutter when his unoccupied hand reaches up, entirely cupping your breast.

“The chrysanthemum is for life, the corianders are for virility and the oil has a bunch of things in it to make it feel nice.” He moves away from your chest when he speaks, meeting your eyes and you can tell he’s genuinely trying to relieve any worries you may be having. His unoccupied hand reaches over to one of the small clay pots he’d brought with him and nudges the top off it. Two of his long fingers dip in and pull out, now coated with something wet and slippery.

He reaches forward, slowly and rubs it against your thigh. It immediately cools—and then grows hot, causing a small dose of something hot and heavy to seep into your system. You inhale sharply and shift your hips to try and relieve the feeling, but it does nothing.

A lazy smile breaks out across his face.

“Good, right?” You don’t trust your voice to not wobble and whine, so you settle for a nod.  “Good.” He again reaches into the pot and covers three fingers in it, before his hand returns to your breast.

God, his hands are fucking huge. His palm presses over your nipple. The oil slicks against your skin and makes your nub suddenly ache for attention. You arch your back as a needy cry rumbles high from your throat.

Your breath hitches and the subtle sound encourages him to rub it over the pointed nub, making you arch your back, grind your pussy into his dick and you feel it twitch— “Does that feel nice?” He asks, looking up at you. It genuinity of it lets you know that he wants to make you feel good, wants to press you against the dirt and fuck you senseless—okay, maybe not that far.

All you can manage is a nod and he continues to play with and tease your body, adjusting his touch when he finds spots you like, spots you don’t like. It overwhelms your nerves and synapses and you just melt into him, already a puddle of goo. The hand not on your breast strokes down your spine and cups your ass, before sliding down, beginning to sneak his fingers in between your legs.

Your insides churn molten with pleasure as he lays you down among long dried up weeds and lavender weaved by his expert fingers. He doesn’t complain when you scratch your nails over his shoulders and then his back. He makes you squirm and grips your thighs tight, lapping at your slicked sweetness like it’s coveted honey lavender.

And he looks, he never stops looking, never stops watching your reactions, evaluating at every step to make sure that you’re good, you’re good, you’re good—

You fall over the cusp of your pleasure like caramel drizzled on tres leches, a sob wretched from your throat. Only the silent trees bare witness as your body writhes among the dirt, pulses of gold falling off your skin and onto the grass where it slicks and pools.

He pulls his tongue away and immediately crawls over you. He brushes any hair out of your face. The gesture, as small as it is, is touching.

His eyes are wide awake as they look you over.

“Are you good to go again?” He inquires. The hand he hadn’t finger-fucked you with strokes down your abdomen and to your hip, leaving more of what is likely that oil in his wake. You nod and after a moment, the substance settles into your skin and snaps you out of post-orgasm weariness.

“Alright. Let’s try something different this time.” He hums as he settles on his back. His shock of hair flops against his face with the motion and he has to blow it away from his face. You almost don’t move to mount him like you’ve wanted for the past twenty minutes, too caught up in the stretch of his body, the lowering of his eyelids as he gives you another one of those stupid, loopy smiles. The kind that makes your heart tighten and skip, the kind that makes you want to cover yourself with him and be infatuated with him for the rest of eternity—

The next thing you know, his hands are on your hips, guiding you down the thickness of his cock. He’s big. Your toes curl and your eyes shut tight as you clench around him.

“You’re doing great,” He praises, coaching you through the process as though he’s done it a million times before. “Just a little more, okay?”

The stretch burns and you have to pause every once in awhile, but the pleasure is mind-numbing and you want, want, want and keep wanting.

A single breath rattles from your lungs and into the open air as he finally hilts. You’re trembling.

“I can’t believe I took all of that.” You gasp, and then notice that traces of gold are rising and dissolving into the air like trails of smoke from where you’re gripping his shoulders.

His hands reach for your hips and grabs them, before lifting you up off his cock and letting you slide back down—the lewd noise of his flesh against your own coupled with knowing he has the strength to do something like that nearly makes you cum on the spot.

Your knees press against the ground to help, thighs twitching and trembling with each pass and enter of that huge cock stretching you to your limits. You’re really not sure how much time passes, but the gold smoke rising from his ashen fur only increases in amount, only at this point, you’re too blissed out to care.

“You make the nicest faces.” He praises through his panting as his pace starts to jitter and fumble. He groans deep in his chest and you know he’s almost there. Your walls tighten around him in an effort to push him over the edge and it works.

His hips jolt and stutter as hot cum fills you, leaking out onto the ground. Your voice raises in a noise caught between a sob and a cry as he keeps thrusting through it, propelling you to your second orgasm.

You feel your body begin to cry out for rest, spent after two, consecutive releases. Your thighs tremble and you give out against his body. Your face rests against his shoulder, eyes shutting—

And then there’s the searing slick of oil against your back.

Without pretense, grabs you by the shoulders and rolls with you. The forest whooshes by in a blur of browns and purples until you’re staring up at the canopy. He doesn’t even pull out of you.

More, your body cries, whittled down to mere instinct and desire. You want more, and by the gods, does he give it to you. Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him as tight as possible to you.

You don’t care about whatever your relationship was before this. You don’t care how it’ll change. All you care about is the pleasure that’s seeping over you and the runes rising in the air, divine shapes of gold that rise around in a circle and stick to your skin like clothes during rain.

Each slam of his cock inside of your feeble body spirals you further and further into insensitivity. Fat, hot tears bead in your eyes and roll down your cheeks and your hands fly to his shoulders. You don’t know if you’re trying to push him away or bring him closer. His velvety praise gives way to low groans and snarls as he fucks into you with renewed vigor, eyes glowing with something faintly not him.

Your clit bumps up against his pulvis with every thrust and your eyes clench tight. He’s too fucking big to not hit every little place inside you that makes you a feeble mess.

Your body feels overheated and is pushed to the brink with each passing moment.

The runes and the dimness of the forest and the molasses sweet sound of his voice fold around you like a cocoon until you cum in unison. Your cries bounce of the stumps and trunks and barren branches, your mixed essences leaking out onto the still-dry dirt. You force yourself to keep your eyes open so you can watch the shut of his eyes and the curl of his lips as he growls deep and dark.

He lays you down and time stops passing. It’s only an obscene smattering of pleasure, of cum and “Caduceus, Caduceus, Caduceus~” until reality reforms. Your body is effectively jelly, limbs splayed out where he left them.

He’d shifted between gentle and violent, a turbulence that definitely surprised you and knocked the breath out of you more than once. But it was good.

...And you’ll probably pay for it tomorrow. Your eyes flutter shut, breath finally beginning to even.

In between all the fucking, you know plumes of gold rolled off your skin and into the air, and only now are you curious as to what that does.

One of Caduceus’s arms, warm and furry is thrown over your torso. The soft sound of his breathing nearly lulls you to sleep—but he shifts. The grass crinkles and crunches under him as he pulls himself into a sitting position, pink eyes wide as he leans over you. His movements are frantic and hurried, lips curled and eyebrows furrowed into a concerned expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” A small smile crawls across your lips and you reach a hand up. The muscles in your arms protest and wobble as you reach your fingers on his cheek, thumb brushing underneath his eye. “It was really good, Caduceus.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper, fatigue already pulling at your body, urging you to sleep.

“Okay,” He replies, “You can go to sleep. I’ll carry you back to the house.”

His permission is all you really need to rest your head and shut your eyes. You hear the shift of the grass underneath his feet before his arms come to wrap around you. Instinctively, your eyes fly open and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. Your face presses into the crook of his shoulder and take a deep inhale. Your body unwinds and relaxes within mere moments, guided by the exhaustion that weighs you down.

When you fall asleep, you miss the way the golden runes twirl off your bodies and into the air.

You miss the circle pulses with vibrant energy. You miss the way patches of grass begin to turn emerald green, and the small flowers that start poking out from the brush.

#caduceus clay #critical role #imagine critical role

[disloopy]

depression & obsession pt.2

nafla, loopy

genre: angst, smut themes ??

word count: 2.1k

make out hill, where we met

we let our lips do all the talking and now i’m nothing

“hey, thanks for dropping me home.” you tell nicholas as he walks you to the front steps of the house you share with jinyoung. “sorry i was bitch eyeing you back at the club.”

nicholas chuckles, running a hand over his hair. “ah yeah... i didn’t take it personally.” you nod and smile at him, patting his shoulder. before nicholas turns around he says, “y/n, we should hang out together... you know like the old times.”

“right, we don’t do that a lot anymore,” you agree giving him a smile that seems more awkward than friendly. you’re not sure when it started becoming like this - your relationship with nicholas started to grow distant and quite uncomfortable. 

“alright, see you later.” 

you watch him go down the steps and back into his car. he barely makes it out of the driveway before running back towards him. he rolls the window down questioningly. “what the hell, y/n, you could get hurt.”

you sigh, resting your hand on top of the car’s hood to calm your beating heart. “sorry - um - do you have any idea when jinyoung will be back?” you ask hopefully, realizing the night is dark and it’s getting late.

nicholas purses his lips, shrugging. “i’m not sure. why?”

you gulp, feeling embarrassed. “i don’t like staying alone. can i come with you?” nicholas seems caught off guard and he turns to look in front of him, unsure of how to answer.

“um - i don’t think that’s-”

“please,” you say, desperation in your voice. “you know i’m scared to be alone.” he knows it too well considering how long you two have been friends for. 

nicholas finally exhales, leaning over to open the door for you. “fine.” breathing out a sigh of relief, you climb in and settle into the seat, preparing yourself for a silent car ride. probably. 

you two don’t hang out much as just friends anymore. it’s always either jinyoung or the boys. and you’re not stupid, you have a sneaking suspicion why nicholas might be acting this way. note to self, you think, daniel is not good at keeping secrets.

after reaching his house, nicholas tells you to sleep on the couch. “i’m not giving up my bed for any old person,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him. but then everything goes silent again. 

jinyoung will text me when he gets home, you think, crashing down on the couch and checking to see if he’s called you all night which, to your disappointment, he hasn’t.

as it gets later, nicholas comes down and asks if you want to sleep in his bed. “i’ll sleep on the couch until jinyoung comes - that’s fine.”

“what happened to not giving up your room?” you ask teasingly and he grins shyly. “you’re a big baby... but no thanks, i’m sure he’ll call soon so i’ll stay down here.”

nicholas nods. “hmm alright. you should tell him you’re here or something.”

“um...yeah, i’ll do that.” but when nicholas leaves you decide not to. you don’t want to give him the wrong idea. you open your phone, considering texting him your whereabouts when it suddenly dings with a message from him.

loopy boy: i won’t be home tonight

loopy boy: sorry :(

you feel suddenly angry but push all that emotion down, telling yourself its alright as you throw your phone on the couch without bothering to reply to him. if you had a dollar for every time he said he won’t be home you’d be rich enough to buy plane tickets back to america.

but you don’t want to leave him. as much as it hurts you to stay with someone who barely gives you any attention, you’d rather not be alone. that’s probably one of your worst fears. 

maybe you’re not spending your ideal amount of time with jinyoung but you can forgive his faults of course. he’s leading and managing a whole music group and what’s a relationship without sacrifices?

but why are you always getting the short end of the stick?

nicholas finds himself tossing and turning in bed that night, unable to fall asleep. how can he when you’re downstairs, alone on the couch when you should be at home next to your boyfriend.

he wonders why jinyoung even asked you out when he knew he’d never have enough time to be with you. his selfish desires are really only hurting the relationship.

fuck what am i thinking, nicholas shakes his head, cursing himself. this isn’t his relationship to talk about. he thinks about you. shit, i should’ve given her a blanket or something. but it would be too weird to go down now and ask you if you need one. 

every time he tries to shut the thought of you out, it keeps returning to haunt him and it’s surprising that he even got any sleep that night.

nicholas wakes up the next morning with a text from his hyung. “be at the studio at 12pm.” another busy schedule, he thinks before deciding to get dressed and go downstairs, expecting a note from you saying you’d left that night.

but all he finds is you sprawled across his couch, your shirt riding up your bare thighs and jinyoung’s jacket - which you used as a blanket - slipping off your body (a/n sksks fuck this is so corny pls stop me).

he considers pretending he never saw you but realizes that would probably be worse so he gently shakes you awake. you groggily sit up, rubbing your eyes and covering yourself with jinyoung’s jacket. 

nicholas can’t help but think of how cute you look with your puffy cheeks and baggy eyes. you look around, slightly confused for a second then say, “i’m still here?”

“you’re still here,” nicholas chuckles, resting his palms on his knees. “did jinyoung forget to pick you up?”

you sigh, a disappointed look shadowing your face. “well... i had a dream he took me home but... he texted me last night saying he wouldn’t be home.” nicholas bites the inside of his cheek, anger building up at his friend. couldn’t he just tell her that in the first place?

“i don’t really have anything here so i guess you’ll have to settle for cereal,” he tells you, walking back to the kitchen. 

when nicholas leaves, you feel tears springing to your eyes. is that all you are to jinyoung? five letters and a sad face emoticon? does he really have no idea that his constant absences are taking a toll on the relationship - or specifically, you.

you wipe away stray tears and put your pants back on, deciding to join nicholas in the kitchen. “i fixed you a bowl,” nicholas says with his mouth full. “sorry if you don’t like corn flakes.”

“i don’t care,” you tell him bluntly and plop down on the chair, stuffing a spoonful into your mouth.

“uhhh are you ok?”

“do i look fucking ok?” you snap, tears welling up in your eyes again. you blink them back, calming yourself down. “i’m sorry that’s so rude of me. especially since you gave me a place to stay for the night.”

nicholas nods slowly. “it’s basic human decency. hyung wouldn’t know much about it,” he jokes, trying to make you laugh. you do, slightly, and continue on with your breakfast.

after the both of you are done eating, you go to the bathroom to wash up and in your moment of absence, nicholas stares at your vacant spot on the couch and then considers texting jinyoung and telling him you were at his house all night.

no, that doesn’t sound right. how do you tell your best friend his girlfriend spent the night with you? he sighs, leaning back with thoughts running through his head.

when you’re not back for more than 30 minutes, nicholas knocks on the door of the bathroom, prompting you to come out. “are you alright?” he’s quick to notice the tear stains on your cheeks.

“i’m fine. just lady issues.”

“really? boys get constipated too you know,” he teases, earning light laughter from you.

“it’s weird that we never chill like this any more, nic,” you say, plopping down on the couch. he loves that nickname but he loves it more when you’re saying it.

nicholas shrugs. “i mean, isn’t it weird to chill alone with your friend’s girl?” you nod in agreement, a smirk creeping on your face. he knows that expression only means you’re thinking of something.

“isn’t weirder to have feelings for your friend’s girl?”

“uh - wha- i mean -” nicholas is at a loss for words. how could he be so stupid? of course you’d know. never fucking trust daniel with anything, he reminds himself.

“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you demand, locking eyes with him.

“why the fuck do you think, y/n? you’re dating my best friend.”

you let out a deep breath. “we’re friends too, ok? you should have told me, we’d sort it out.”

nicholas hangs his head, feeling truly mortified at the situation. "okayyy, i don't want to fucking talk about this."

"well, i do and if i want to talk about it then we're going to fucking talk about it." you tell him. he chews on his lower. you're too damn stubborn.

nicholas doesn't say anything and then you speak again. "and you have a boner right now. tell me what that's about."

heat rises to nicholas's cheeks as he moves his hands away from his eyes just to see. leave it to my body to betray me at times like these. "oh my god," he groans, grabbing a pillow to cover himself with. "fuck... i'm so sorry..."

your tone softens, seeing him in such distress. "don't be embarrassed. it's ok." you stand up and walk over to him, placing your knees on either side of him and settling yourself in his lap.

"wha-"

"shh," you whisper, placing a finger over his lips to shush him. nicholas can't find it in himself to tell you he doesn't want this because he does want it. "let me help you." you press your lips to his and everything else is a blur.

                                                                                                               ***

"fuck!"

"you seriously have enough energy for a third round?" you giggle where you lie across his chest. nicholas quickly scrambles to his feet, grabbing his phone to check the time. it's 2pm. you stare at him with wide worried eyes. "are you ok?"

"i - um - i have somewhere to be this morning," he explains, wanting to slap himself for being so careless.

"oh..." you say, disappointed evident in your voice. nicholas doesn't want to leave you all alone again but he has no choice at this point.

"um... i need my shirt back," he tells you and you nod, slipping it off and handing it back to him. "you can get an uber home, right?"

"yeah of course... don't worry about me."

nicholas runs out of the house and into his car, realizing his ringer was off and he's had many missed calls from the boys. as he drives to the studio he tries to come up with excuses as to why he's so late but when he gets there, it happens so fast he forgets everything.

"dude, where the hell were you?!" owen demands, pulling nicholas into the studio. nicholas scratches the back of his head, searching for an answer.

"i uh lost track of time."

"lost track of time?" jinyoung repeats, an annoyed expression on his tired face. "you were supposed to be here two hours ago!" the sight of jinyoung just causes guilt to build up in the pit of nicholas's stomach. he knew deep down inside that you were just using him because you needed someone and he knew it was wrong. but then why did it feel so right?

"just get the hell inside the recording room," says jinyoung, pushing nicholas in. "we've already done our parts for the tour remixes."

nicholas can't think straight in there. all he can think about is hating himself for what he did to you and jinyoung even though it was your fault as well he didn't know how he was going to live with himself after this.

so he knew just the thing to do. when the recording was done, he stepped out of the room to see the other boys satisfied faces.

"ok at least now we can rest before our flight in a couple days," says jinyoung, slightly relieved with a hint of irritation.

"hyung, can i talk to you?" nicholas asks quietly. jinyoung crosses his arms over his chest.

"yeah, what is it?"

"um... in private?"

he exhales. "nicholas, we don't have time for that. just tell me what it is."

"it's about y/n."

#mkit rain #nafla #loopy #owen ovadoz #bloo #young west #khh #khiphop #khiphop scenarios #khh imagines #khh smut #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #angst

[matronaa]

Jungkook “fuckboy?” drabble

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 1,637

Genre: Fluff/mentions of smut?

Okay look its about 1 in the morning while im writing this and i just got done literally scrolling thru @jungshookz  e n t i r e page and honestly ive been delusionally laughing over her stories for like an hour and a half like the tattooartist!jungkook fic legit killed me i love it  and i’m probably going to force my friend to check her out because legit i love it so much and she seems like such a funny person and if she sees this 1) ily and ur writing and i wanna be friends but idk how to start a conversation because im a awKwARd bEan and 2) im sorry for probably spamming ur notifications with likes okay i couldnt help it so now im inspired for the first time in a while to write but im way to loopy to put together an actual fic so enjoy this ig

Okay i should stop rambling (okay just note that im so sleep deprived that i had to google ‘words for excessive talking’ to remember the word rambling because im an idiot and i cant think and ooo its 1:11 am rn make a wish b*tches)

Okay im sorry ill begin~

A/n all of this is completely unedited and if bad grammar annoys you srry not srry

Lets talk about what fuckboy!jungkook is oki

I feel like in reality there are just a bunch of rumors about him but hes so smol and hes the quiet type so he doesnt have the energy to dismiss them

Like im sorry soft jungkook is way to good in my mind rn okay #cuddles4days im not in the mood for him to strangle me with his amazing biceps

Anyway

you never rlly met him in the 4 years of going to the same highschool as him (since you’re in those smart people classes like humanities) until senior year

You and him had the same AP Lit. class lmao english class is  l i t

Which surprised you bc of the rumors like i thought he was a badboy ?? arent those normally idiots ??

Nah my bby is a smart nugget, he just likes to look hella bf 25/8

First day of school cliche where you show up late to class and have to sit next to him because i  d i e  for those plots okay

But you dont know thats him because you’ve never seen him, so you’re confused on why most of the girls keep glaring at you

But soon enough you catch on and you’re like fml

And then the professor is like “where you are sitting is your assigned seating for the rest of the year” and you’re like f m L

He ends up introducing himself to you because i mean like table buddies

But hes really nervous because hes a cute little bean and you’re hella cute cuz lets be honest ur probably wearing like basic black leggings and a hoodie with your hood over your head to hide the bed hair you didnt feel like brushing that morning

Oh, just me? Okay…

He likes ur name because it rolls off the tongue and he thinks it suits you even tho he doesnt know you

Yet ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You dont really think hes a fuckboy because he seems so nice and he has the cutest lil bunny smile sEE

That is until after school u end up getting to ur locker late because u left something in one of your classes

And u see him pinning a girl against the lockers down the hall

And ur like well shit nvm

And u quickly get ur shit and go because das  a w k w a r d

But then he sees u run off and hes like awh crap i dun fucked up

A few weeks go by and u notice he barely really comes to class so u usually sit alone

On days he does come his chair seems extra close to yours and he’s basically smothering you

But u dont mind because he smells nice

And on the days he does come you get kinda excited because

1) you get a partner who doesnt expect you to do all of the work

2) this boy cute when he gets all intelligent

Ur  like “yes pls continue speaking about the essay we are writing that i have no idea is on because i kept getting lost in the sound of ur voice”

He notices when u zone out because you start staring at his lips when hes talking and he thinks its the cutest thing

One day u get assigned a week long project and ur close enough friends with jungkook to basically scold and force him to come to class all week

But only if he can force u to come to his house to work on it after school

Which you’re low key nervous of because ur going to a ‘fuckboy’s house’ by yourself

And u dont wanna do the dirty because ur a pure child haha not for long

But you agree anyway

And honestly even after the project is done (which you got an A on) you continue going over to his house because his bed is comfortable and he always has snacks

And his mom loves you

Like legit on days you dont go the next day you do she’s like “wheRE WERE YOU”

When the semester is over the professor lets you pick seats but you both enjoy each other’s company so you stay seated together.

finally ur at his house one day and ur just laying on his bed scrolling thru insta and he’s sitting on his bean bag in the corner on his phone and u look up at him and realise

Shit

You like him

Like a lot

And u mentally face palm because this was not supposed to happen

But it happened and you’re too far down the hole to climb out

Sometimes u end up napping at his house after school because his bed is more comfortable than yours and one friday night u wake up in his arms

And its like the best feeling ever

Its so warm and hes so cuddly hes like latched onto you

You stay under the warm blankets before you question when he even got in bed since he was playing video games before you fell asleep

And then his phone lights up and ofc you check it for him bc ur a nosey bitch

But not before you observed how adorable he was while he was sleeping

Nope not creepy at all

its his friend tae texting him (you didn’t really know his friends since you had different friend groups)

You check it and its smth like “stop staring at y/n while shes sleeping and reply u creep”

And you’re like w a t

So you scroll up and see that while u were sleeping jungkook went on a full rant on how cute u are and how whipped he is

And ur like holy fadoodles dis boy likes me

And so u decided to text tae like “this is y/n, does he actually like me”

Which turns into you both having a convo on how thirsty jungkook is until he wakes up

Hes like wtf r u doing and he snatches the phone and reads through your messages with tae while u like sit up to stare at him

And he’s still half asleep so it takes him to realise whats going on

“Omfg y/n i can explain-”

He starts rambling about how long he had been crushing on u and that he didn’t want to tell you because you seemed uninterested so he kept it a secret and never told anyone

And honestly he was freaking out because the onE tiMe he tells anyone that he likes you, you find out

But while he’s rambling you’re coming up with an excuse to text your mom that you’re spending the night at his house, so you just say he’s not feeling well and his parents are gone for the weekend.

Lmao she doesnt care she’s just like “lmao ik ur lying but have fun dont get pregnant”

Or Maybe thats just my mom idk

You have to shut him up by snatching his phone out of his hands and kissing him

When you pull away you’re just like “you talk too much lmao”

You explain to him that you like him too and u just get under the covers again and snuggle up next to him, and he wraps his arms around you

And you stay like that for a while before hes like “its late you should get home”

And you tell him you’re staying the night whether he likes it or not

And he is so down for that

But then you end up just spending the weekend there because why not his parents love you

And every night is just filled with cuddling, watching netflix, making out, late night snacks, etc.

Saturday night he gets a lil touchy and soon enough ur like straddling him and grinding your hips against his

But then he’s like “Ive never done this before” and you c o m b u s t

Ur like aren’t you like the school fuckboy how have you not done this

And he tells you its all just rumors and hes too lazy to set the record straight

And you basically decide to take things slow that night since it was you’re first time too and honestly it was so cute

It wasn’t really steamy rough sex it was more soft fluffy love making that is filled with giggling and exploring and appreciating each other

That was definitely the night you fell in love with him

Which is big because you thought love was gross

The next day you’re cuddling and he’s like “you know ur my gf now”

And ur like duh

You start going on cute dates after that like going to cafes or amusement parks

He loved taking you to the beach during the summer because u looked gr8 in a bikini

You found out you were going to the same college with was fantastic, so you decided to rent an apartment together nearby the campus instead of living in a dorm.

Which normally you’d be against because moving in together so quickly ?? but you felt different like this relationship was going to last

UNTIL HE CHEATED

Lmao jk gotcha bitch

My baby is too pure and innocent to cheat

Well innocent until you both get into bed and then oh lord it gets steamy

He wants to experiment with like e v e r y t h i n g and honestly you were down

But ofc you set some boundaries.

There were lines he couldn’t cross

I mean sometimes he tried but you shut that down real quick

Overall your relationship was perfect and you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend

I mean he brought you pizza rolls and dr pepper to ‘study dates’ how could you not love him.

Oml it took me over an hour to write this its like 2:30 am why am i awake anyway imma go to bed now, idk ur name jungshookz but pls write more fanfics i need more to read late at night okay gnite

#jungkook #bts #btsjungkook #Jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk #im so sleep deprived #why am i awake #imagine #bts imagines #jungkook ima

[imagining-supernatural]

Zvezda Imbirya

Phase 6 of Operation: Pet-Name

In which Agents Y/N and Bucky execute their plan (1157 words)

“Sunrise or sunset?” Bucky asked as the colors started disappearing over the ocean. With sleep-deprived eyes, you glared at him.

“This really wasn’t necessary. There is no way in hell I’m getting married at sunrise. I’m never fucking waking up this early ever again.”

He grinned, taking way too much pleasure in dragging you out of bed at the asscrack of dawn so you could sit together on the beach and watch the sunrise over the water. “I know, sweet cheeks. This was payback.”

You threw your arms up as he started walking away from you. “Payback for what? Bucky! What the hell did I do?”

He waited until he was on the boardwalk before stopping to face you. “Got me all riled up last night then fell asleep right after we ate.”

While that was a lie – you hadn’t fallen asleep right after you’d eaten because you’d been updating him on what you’d seen when you went to get food under the guise of pillow talk – you knew what he was really getting at. Your relationship was on uncertain ground and the two of you couldn’t exactly hash out the details of everything with everyone listening in.

Still though… he could have found a better way than waking you up before the sun even came up.

“That was fucking Sam’s fault. I was seconds away from tearing your clothes off when he called. Then I forgot my wallet and had to walk back and… if Sam hadn’t called, we could’ve had round one, called some delivery in, and gone all night.”

“Really?”

Once that line was crossed between you two, it could never be uncrossed.

But you were sure. So you looped your arms over his shoulders and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “We can head back to the hotel room right now and I’ll show you what could’ve happened last night.”

“Really?” This time his arms circled you and pulled you tightly against his body and there was a spark in his eyes. Sure, there were cameras, and sure your team was watching. But they would assume any sex was faked, and the people watching from the town would assume it was real either way.

However, you really didn’t want any cameras getting any of this.

And just like that, you knew how to end this mission. Third day in and you could figure out what the hell was happening in this town.

Going up on tiptoes, you kissed your way up to Bucky’s ear and pretended to whisper your dirty plans to him. “Walk past the Chinese place and push me against the wall. I’ll accidentally open the door and we can be innocent, curious people, figure this out, and be back home in the privacy of your room soon enough. I’ll show you how serious I am once we’re back in New York.”

“Chert, ya tebya lyublyuj,” he growled, fingers digging into your hips. You pulled back with a question in your eyes, but he didn’t translate. Instead, one of his hands tangled in your hair and he pulled you in for a bruising kiss, like he couldn’t get enough. “Let’s get back to our room, doll.”

By the time you made it to the street with the Chinese place and hidden door, you were ready to just say fuck it and high tail it to the hotel room, cameras be damned. Bucky couldn’t keep his hands off of you and it was contagious. Your laughter rang out across the street as he tried to keep walking while he was bent down enough to kiss your neck. “Sugar cakes, we’ll be at the room soon.”

“Can’t wait that long,” he growled, dropping his hands to your hips and pushing you against the wall just as you’d planned. For nearly thirty seconds, you got lost in his kisses, completely forgetting why you were at this particular spot in the town. PDA was never your thing before, but apparently you’d never been with the right guy because you could do this all damn day in plain sunlight. Thank god your team had volunteered the two of you for this mission.

Mission.

Shit.

Right.

With all of your self control, you pushed him enough until you’d switched places and the wall was at his back. In your peripheral vision you could see a brick that had a loopy design carved in the corner, but most of your attention was on the devilish grin Bucky aimed your way.

“You, my friend, are insatiable.”

“Only when it comes to you, zvezda imbirya.”

That look in his eyes matched the one he got whenever you played a prank on Sam and you raised your eyebrow while threading your fingers with his metal ones and holding them against the wall beside his head, just a few inches shy of the brick you needed. “Translate bugga-boo.”

He just laughed. “Let’s just say if you ever decide to become a Russian stripper, you already have a great name picked out.”

“Oh my god, I hate you so much,” you said with a bright grin just before you kissed him. A few seconds later, your joined hands had inched over enough to press the brick and the wall at Bucky’s back shuddered and slid inward, making the two of you lose your balance.

“What the fuck?” Bucky muttered, playing the part and looking behind him in confusion.

“A secret passage?” You asked, pretending like your curiosity was piqued. “This really is the perfect wedding town. Even has its own mystery. Let’s check it out.”

“Y/N, I don’t think—”

“C’mon, abs de l'acier. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Grabbing his hand, you pulled him into the dark passage way, hiding your flinch when the door shut behind you two. This definitely hadn’t been on any of the cameras that FRIDAY hacked. A few minutes and several flights of stairs down, you pushed back a curtain and saw what this town was hiding.

“Well, fuck.”

Rows upon rows in this secret underground bunker were full of cages of people and humanoid creatures. Bucky took a few careful steps forward and plucked a binder from the nearest cage to flip through the pages.

“Goddammit, they’re experimenting. Creating mutants. Like a knockoff HYRDA.”

“You can’t be here!” The bartender from the first night started running towards you two and reached towards his pants – for a gun, presumably – but you were quicker, extending your arms towards him and releasing a burst of paralytic energy that had him stopping dead in his tracks.

“You’ve got some things to answer for,” you said, feeling sick to your stomach at everything here. A glance behind you told you that Bucky was calling your team, leaving you to watch the bartender. It wouldn’t be long before this was all over. “And your old fashioned tasted like shit. It’s too bad they won’t let you work on that in prison.”

Next Phase: Souchastnik 

Series Taglist Open. Add Yourself HERE

Bucky Babes: @lavieenlex @hallow-hazel @infinity-dreamchaser @andhiseyesweregreen @docharleythegeekqueen @amomenttowrite @zanthiasplace @bunniesowlsandwhales @clairese1980 @bandbandeau @notyourtypicalrose @zahiaouzidane

Pet-Name Tags: @stressedasalways

#buckyxreader #buckyxreader fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #fake boyfriend #fake fiance #friends to lovers #bucky friends to lovers #chert ya tebya lyublyuj is him saying fuck i love you #zvezda imbirya is ginger star #abs de l'acier is abs of steel

[lupienne]

Don’t Look Back

An angsty Lucille/Negan fic I wrote back in November. 4,064 words. Song-inspired/’Here’s Negan’ based. Most of Negan’s dialogue is direct from ‘Here’s Negan’. Warnings: death, terminal illness/cancer, depressing…etc. XD) Story under the read-more.

Everything is so dark And I know there’s something wrong but I can’t turn the light on In that split second change when you knew we couldn’t hold on I realized I lived to love you

 Save yourself, don’t look back.

‘Never Go Back’ (Synthesis) - Evanescence

You never know where you’re going to end up… when your end is up. I used to have this fantasy when I was a kid, that I would live forever like the vampires in my favorite teen novels. As I got older, I figured it would be some random shit out of nowhere – a car crash, maybe a heart attack like the one that had taken my grandmother.

Dying of cancer in the hospital was low on my list of ideal ways to go. But it was the way I got and I guess I was doing a splendid job of it.

I’d said that to Negan once. 'At least I’m doing a great job at something.’

He’d started to cry. And he was usually the one cracking the inappropriate jokes.

Sometimes, in the early days of my sickness, I savored his suffering. He could have all the women who would say yes to him, but not me, not any longer. I was drifting to a place where his apologies could no longer reach.

As I grew weaker over the months, and he was there - through whatever…chemo, cleaning my vomit, carrying me to bed against his strong chest, bathing me when I didn’t have the energy…

I forgave him. Or maybe I simply could no longer muster that kind of anger anymore. My well was depleted and his sorrow hastened the drought. Maybe I didn’t want to feel ire in the shortened days of my life – I just wanted to love him.

I wanted his pain to stop.

Deep down, I knew my death wouldn’t be the cessation of his agony… But I hoped it would be a start. He was adaptable and so full of life. He would endure, and I wanted that with all the meager strength left in my soul.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. On my deathbed, I suppose you call it. At some point, my care was too much for Negan to handle solo, and doctor’s orders: he’d brought me here. Sometimes, I thought it’d be preferable if he’d carried me up to the mountain we’d hiked up once. Cradled me under the stars and let me die in his arms. I’d even take our local park, staring up through the rustling leaves. Someplace with open breeze and the sounds of life.

Not this stifled air, these blaring white walls and pea-colored privacy curtains. The sound of machines. The creak of the tiny chair Negan has turned into his guard post. He isn’t eating much and I think more coffee flows through his veins than blood.

There’s a clock on the wall, the kind with an audible tick-tock. What purpose does it serve? To assure the recuperating patients they can keep holding on? For people like me… to let us know we’re a few more clicks away from the pain ending? Hickory dickory dock, do you hear the clock? Hickory dickory dock, your lifespan it does mock. Maybe I’ll tell Negan that one later. He likes rhymes.

Sometimes I can’t hear it, when they pump enough drugs in to put me into a kind of loopy limbo. But no matter how far out I am, I always remain aware of Negan’s presence. His large frame slumped into that small uncomfortable chair. Sometimes he flips on the tv, but never for long. He’s always been restless, but he refrains from pacing when I’m awake. His big hands will take mine, his lips will brush them, and he’ll talk softly to me. Anything and everything tumbling from his lips… vulgar jokes, our days together, stories about his students, apologies. I would cry or laugh if I could break out of this brain freeze.

Other times, when he thinks I’m unaware, that I’m too drugged up to notice – he bends double and sobs into his hands. Those are the times I pray the minute hand’s next revolution will be my last.

It might be an hour later, a day, a year. I doubt it’s been a year. My body has distinctly told me: nobody ain’t got time for that. It tells me other things too, as my vision grows foggy and my hearing grows sharper. I hear the seconds ticking between the minutes. I hear the blood rushing in and out of Negan’s heart.

Your time is almost up, baby.  

Am I sad about that? I don’t know.

Trapped in limbo, you can’t go back. You’re over the edge and hanging and there’s only one direction left. Forward.

But still… I hear the occasional shriek deep inside me, coming from that part that’s still on fire and doesn’t want to be snuffed out.

     This isn’t fair!  

     I’m too young!  

     I’m only 40. He’s only 37. There’s so much more life ahead of us!  

     Why?  

     I don’t want to die.  

     I’m scared.  

     I’m sad.  

     How can I leave Negan alone? He’s going to be lost without me.  

I hear these shrieks, now and then. They’ve faded to a dull mummer. Like me…they’ve lost their ferocity.

Regret lingers like a bruise. We never took that trip to Ireland. We never went skiing. We never tried that crazy sex position. We never started a family. I denied him of the children he desired, seething in pain over his infidelity. And his eternal childish nature! It both maddened me and kept me mad with love, but didn’t inspire my confidence that he could be a responsible father.

Now…I know he could have been, and he would have had a piece of me to hold onto. Now, the regret devours me as viciously as my rouge cells.

I’m not over it. Won’t be until the day I die, I suppose. Or the hour. I think I can only expect hours now. But… I’ve slipped into some cliché phase of acceptance. What else can I do? I don’t even have strength left to squeeze his fingers.

I’m so fucking tired. Sleep sounds so good. The deep sleep of no dreaming.

I think I do sleep a little. I nod off, then come back. Negan is hunched over in his chair, his big hand clasping mine. It feels so warm. My hearing comes in ocean waves, carrying his words on the tide. His voice is raw over the whoosh-whoosh of the oxygen machine. I don’t think I can breathe without it anymore.

Time to put baby to bed. “…need you to know… You are everything to me.”

My eyes aren’t open, but I can see him clearly. His handsome face thrown onto somber lines that do not suit him. The warm cocoa eyes of the cuddliest puppy…wet and red. His dark hair tousled over his forehead, slightly greasy from his inattentiveness to himself, his jaw cloaked in stubble.

He’s so beautiful even when he’s a fucking mess. I try to open my eyes…but my eyelids feel weighted with stones.

“… I’m a fucking piece of dog shit. You deserve so much better.”

Oh, Negan... His voice cracks. “Did I do this to you? Did I fucking cause this?”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. I damn this stupor I’m in. I want to frown, to lay a punch on his arm and tell him to stop being silly, that he couldn’t cause an illness - he’s hardly the Rider of Plague and Pestilence.

He continues on. If only I could kiss him! I’d sternly grip his jaw, lock my eyes to his and tell him to get a grip. Get control of that voice that’s cracking and quivering like a child’s.

I don’t. Can’t. I can really feel it now, the way this machine is forcing my lungs to expand with air. There’s a dull, burning pain all through my body - made vague by the drugs. I don’t know if it’s from my sickness…or the sickness of tears I cannot shed.

For a while, there’s only the sound of my machines and Negan sniffling up his nose. I’m tired again. I know this machine might keep me breathing, but it’s no match for my suicidal heart. That thing is on its last legs now. Like the uproar of an audience turning to a few half-hearted claps.

You and me had a good run, baby. We even found a man to beat for. Just for a while. Some people can’t say that. That they had what I had. As flawed as it was. Things are getting muffled now. Like cotton is stuffed in my ears. I’ve entered into a cliche. I feel detached from my frail, physical form. Like I jumped up lightly to levitate above my bed. Maybe I’m a ghost now, but I don’t think so. The bonds tying meto the body have merely slackened their grip.

That’s funny. I’m thinking of myself and my body as two separate things.

Red and blue lights flash outside. Another sound becomes apparent over the beeps and whooshes. Even through the cotton I hear sirens, crashes, screams.

It is strange. Negan doesn’t seem to notice it. Maybe it’s just me…because my hearing has become so odd. Muted, yet sharper than ever. On the streets below, I hear inhuman moans and growls – but they are coming from human lips. This I know. If I could cry out – I would – as it feels like a hand suddenly grips the back of my bald head, digging claws into my brain. Something inside me… is responding to… them?

     You’re drugged.  

Footsteps rush down the hall. People run by the open door of my death room. Nurses in their bright scrubs. Doctors with their white coats trailing. A patient pushing another in a wheelchair like they are running a race.

     You’re delirious.  

Negan doesn’t seem to hear any of it. His head is bowed, his finger lightly trailing up and down my wrist.

     You’re delusional. You’re probably seeing things that aren’t even happening.  

But I know it’s bad.

     You’re dying.  

Yes. But that’s not it.

There’s something wrong, and Negan is in danger.

     Your synapses are firing their last rounds. You should be rifling through your memories one more time and not be thinking such nonsense.  

More people rush by the door, and this time, Negan looks up. A nurse dashes in, his eyes panicked.

I did not imagine it. They are evacuating the hospital! Negan snarls as the man grips his arm, urging him to leave me.

“I’m not fucking leaving my wife!”

“She’s too sick to move…there’s nothing we can do!”

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Negan wrenches his arm free.

The scrawny male nurse wisely backs off. I find myself whisked away by a memory. Some guy putting his hands on me in a bar, and Negan turning his nose into busted fragments of bone and oozing blood. Always my protector. I wish you could have been that devoted to me… all the time.

He’d made it up, I guess. By being here. By staying here, as the nurse flees, and outside the chaos escalates. There’s more crashing, like cars impacting. Screams. The flicker of fire added to the police lights. And more of those animal growls coming from the mouths of people.

     This is real. There is something really wrong.  

That strange pain strikes my brain again. Like claws dug in. Maybe this is what happens when you die. You feel your mind slipping away, gripped in the hands of death.

Negan paces to the window. Whatever he sees transfixes him there for several minutes. He presses his nose to the glass, mumbling profanity.

“Those people. There’s something… wrong with them.”

     Something wrong.  

If I could move, I’d be paralyzed with fear. It isn’t the dread of my existential ending. I’ve come to grips with that, even if I’m not happy about it. The fear burns me cold as my husband watches through the window. To see him standing there, confused but unaware, doing such a normal Negan-thing as scratching absently at his butt through his sweatpants.

I know what he doesn’t. Something is wrong. Negan isn’t safe!

I can’t live knowing he isn’t safe.

And that is exactly it.

     You have to go now, Lucille. You have to say goodbye.  

There are often stories of people holding on just long enough to say it. Just long enough to reach some milestone. And maybe I’ve been doing that too…ready to go, but afraid to let go… afraid…

A boy runs by the room, looking back with his dreads strewn across his face. He sees Negan and shouts a warning. “Run, man! Run!”

Negan huffs a breath in through his nose, his eyes wide. My terrified heart doesn’t have the energy to beat faster. My brave man. He hates to show fear in front of others. Except for me, of course. Just a look from me could make him grovel. But now, I don’t want to see weakness in his face. He needs to be strong.

     I’m so sorry, baby. I have to leave you alone.  

I’m afraid for him without me.

But more afraid for him to stay. I let myself sink down into my body. Pain grips my head. I feel the machine expand my lungs.

Negan moves the tv stand in front of the door, then slumps against it. He’s breathing hard even as the infernal machine forces me to draw air.

This machine will not hold me back. Nothing will stop me.

     I have to go, darling.  

Cells die all across my body. Imploding like miniature stars. I feel flushed and glowing, but left ice cold as the warmth fades away. Smoky shadows move in my vision, like I am hurtling through banks of storm clouds. This is so easy once I let go. My body has already forsaken me – now I am forsaking it.

Part of me wishes for Negan to take my hand. But I’m mostly content – glad he’s not feeling the life slip from me.

I’ve heard it said after you die, you can still process information. I’m not exactly…seeing or hearing…or feeling anything physical. But I am aware somehow. I haven’t quite left my body, but I’ve flown to the edge. I’m the shape you see at the edge of your peripheral vision. A flash that is seen but does not exist.

Negan realizes that I’ve gone. My beatless heart can’t ache. Instead, I feel the ache shrouded over me like a veil.

“No,” he whimpers. “Lucille. No. Please, baby.” His voice dissolves into whimpers and he lays his head across the dead shell, clutching the shell’s limp hand. He cries and sobs, his tears turning the body’s white polka-dotted gown translucent under his cheek.

Aren’t I supposed to be at peace now? Gone?

I feel like I partially am. I do not see the body as mine. It is just an empty husk. So…

     Why am I still here?  

Negan slumps back against the wall, his bangs falling onto his forehead, cradling my hand in his. His eyes are blankly staring and empty, his sounds of grief ceased, though the tears still slowly ooze down his reddened cheeks.

     Why are you still here, baby? Leave and don’t look back!  

He sits for ages. Light shifts outside the window, and he still sits. My former hand becomes ice cold and stiff in his grip.

Then -

Something wrenches hard at my vessel. I fall further towards the edge, my soul on the precipice. This shit is more jarring than I thought it would be. I had left my body so smoothly before. I realize, suddenly, that I’m not the only thing dwelling in this vessel. There is another unwelcome visitor that has taken up residence. It’s not the cancer. This thing is more insidious, and it has lain in wait for me to vacate this shell.

So it can take over. So it can use what it is left of me.

And I cannot go back.

The insidious thing creeps. It takes the helm of my abandoned ship. This dead sailor is along for whatever ride the afterlife brings…and I have to say… I never imagined it like this.

Maybe I’m in hell.

Negan is pulled from his stupor by the world ending outside. Car crashes. Gun shots! Screams of panic, terror, agony. He drops the shell’s hand and approaches the window.

His breathing becomes ragged, his fingers pressed to the cold glass. “Fucking hell,” he whispers. “What the fucking shit- What is this…?”

Is he real or a fragment of thought… how do I know if this is happening or just the last of my memories bursting across my fading retinas?

It doesn’t matter. Reality or dream…I’m stuck here all the same. Some force is holding me in, blocking all my ports of exit. Keeping me in my dead body and weaving itself through me.

“Guhhhh…” A long groan comes from my shell’s lips. And up lifts my former hand. No longer mine. Lucille’s hand. I don’t have enough substance to hold a name anymore.

Lucille’s hand is pale and hangs limply at the end of her uplifted arm. Like every cell as been shocked back to life, she jolts upwards in the bed. The motions are so strange. The insidious force may hijack a body but it hardly knows what to do with them – it only knows one thing. I feel it all through the shadow of my being.

 Hunger.

A deep, depraved hunger. An addict ingesting the most vile of toxins just for the hint of a fix. My taken body does not breath, but it can smell.

It smells Negan.

 His blood calls like ambrosia.

 His flesh fills the air with the most succulent aroma.

 All I want to do – all IT wants to do…

 I want to rip him apart. Consume.

Lucille flails her hand, ripping the tubes and mask free from her nose and mouth.

 The better to smell you with, my dear.

Blood flows from the accosted nostrils.

Negan turns – his eyes wide in horror. “Lucille?”

She lurches forward like an electric wire has been shoved in that dead heart.

 Heart. I can smell his heart. I can hear it!

ThudTHUDthud A siren song calling.

She lunges, but falls clumsily from the bed. Tubes and wires trail like the tentacles of a sea creature, wrapping around her atrophied limbs. Her face hits the floor with bone-breaking force. Teeth break, and the nose too.

It might not be my body anymore and I might not be capable of it – but I think I would wince. Blood covers her face as Negan panics, hovering around the fallen body.

“Lucille?! Are you ok!?” His voice cracks. “I thought you’d…I thought you were-”

     I am! You know I am…you know this isn’t right!  

ThudTHUDthud. That juicy muscle is getting all worked up. Cycling the blood through his veins and the scent of it oozes out through his pores…she smells all the fluids in him. Lymph and blood and mucus and semen and her mouth burns with thirst.

 The aroma of his bone marrow makes my saliva run. I want to eat all of him. Start with his toes and work my way up. Rip off his cock, bury my gnashing teeth into his belly while he screams and screams -

     Stop it!  

 -Oh liver and kidney and spleen, tastes sweeter than a dream-

She lifts her head as Negan draws close. He reaches out.

 Yes. Reach out to me.

     NO! Don’t hurt him!  

The horror of her face propels him away. He throws himself backwards, his side colliding with his guard-post chair, his legs drawn up. He cowers from Lucille as she claws for him with her pale, wasted arm. Each nail wants to open his veins.

 Give me your fucking heart, baby. The way you NEVER did in life.

     NO!  

This is hell. I am in hell. I don’t know what sin landed me here, but surely I must have been wicked. My screams don’t reach him!

     Leave, Negan! GO!  

He kneels, tentatively reaching forward. Her cold fingertips brush his. His flesh so warm it feels like a kiss of fire.

     Please. Leave me. You’ve done your part. You’ve stayed with me unto death.  

His only saving grace is my shell’s limbs are tangled in the wires that formerly kept it alive. She can’t lunge forward and sink her teeth into that -

 -beautiful jugular vein. I can hear it pulse. The sound of blood is like the whisper of ocean tide.

She wants so badly for him to put that sweet face closer. She will dig her teeth in deep, rip flesh from bone. His eyeballs will explode like grapes on the tongue! The most exquisite meat lies all curled and gray inside that hard nut of a skull. It will take a few cracks on the floor to get to it.

     You fucking bitch! You… monster. Get out of my body!  

“It’s me…” He whispers. “Your husband.” His hand waves back and forth before her mouth. Blood and spit drool from it and she snaps her teeth like a rabid dog.

He leans back on his haunches, and if I could still feel my heart – oh I know the pain of it would kill me all over again. His face is utterly defeated, and so sad. Tears streak his cheeks.

     Please, baby…go.  

He leans in close.

 Yes. Come closer!

I reach out as hard as I can, wrapping every fiber of my shadow-self around the dark force.

     You will not have him!  

The vibrancy of his life utterly blinds. The organic machinery churning inside him is deafening, the scent of his flesh and blood is a draught of madness.

     You will not hurt him.  

His tears fall onto cold, dead skin. Her eyes flit but her mouth is momentarily still as I clutch onto her hungry jaws with my fading strength. Negan kisses her – Lucille – me. His lips to her forehead.

And then mercifully, he draws away. I cannot hold on any longer.

Water drips from his nose and chin, his eyes swimming in an ocean of grief. He wipes his eyes like a child does, with his hands made into big, clumsy fists. “I’m…sorry.”

He stands and turns toward the door.

     Save yourself.  

He moves the tv stand away, whimpering breaths rattling his throat.

     Don’t look back.  

He walks out the door.

I know I will never see him again.

I never thought I’d be so relieved to be dead.

Some minutes later, the boy with the dreadlocks comes into my room. He is a young one, perhaps around the age Negan used to teach. There is a weariness around his eyes no child should bear.

The shell claws and reaches for him. This is my existence now, then? To ride in the withering depths of my former body…going mad with a parasite’s hunger?

“I’m sorry, ma'am. I hope you’ll be at peace now.”

Maybe not. He raises a fire extinguisher and brings it down towards her head -

A burst of light.

The cage shatters and I fly free.

Light and dark collide, and sleep closes in fast.

I let go. I am unraveled and unbound, turning to particles – everywhere and yet-

Gone forever.

I come back like a black-out drunk. I remember the hospital…but now I’m elsewhere and the time is indeterminate, the space between a mystery.

I’ve heard it said that energy can never be destroyed. Merely transmuted. I’ve heard the oceans will exist long after the planet dies…until the sun finally destroys it all. Stars exploding and turning dead…

Stardust glitter that travels the eons.

I’m a part of it all. I know this.

I don’t know… how long I will stay… awake.

All I know is…

I feel him.

His presence. He is holding me near.

He loves me.

He is safe.

Time and again, I wake… and he has always kept me close. Perhaps in that hospital room, a fragment of me traveled into him.

“I’ll always miss you, Lucille,” he whispers.

Perhaps in that hospital room, he left a fragment of himself behind, and he can’t help but keep looking back for it.

I can do nothing but reply.

     You don’t need to look back, love.  

     I’m right here.  

#comicnegan> #comic negan #lucille #Negan #Negan x Lucille #Cancer #Terminal illness #Walkers #lups writing