#okay i promise ill shut up and actually watch for a couple of minutes now

[nightowlfandom]

Kim Taehyung- All Mine

HELLO FRIENDS!!

ANON ASKS 

Hello my dear Night Owl. How are you feeling today? 😌

So, I saw your X rated prompt list and I was like "Okay. I need to ask for my idea immediately. I want to see their words on it"

Let's go. Y/N and Taehyung are at a party at a friend's place. Y/N is talking with people and some of them are maybe a bit too close with her so Tae becomes jealous. Even if he knows she didn't do anything wrong, he's giving her a silent treatment while fucking her (in a room upstairs) as he try to contain his moans, trying to be as serious as possible (but can't help to make such sexy faces and saying filthy things... oups 🥵) even if Y/N is trying to seduce him like touching his body or begging him to do some noises bc it's making her go crazy etc.... like he's not harsh, brutal or not calling her bad names (slut etc...) but more like he'll give her the best fuck of all time (to reassure his ego and make sure she's his) + 11, 16, 21, 33, 57 🙇‍♀️💛do you think it's possible even if it's a lot to take please? Thank you so much for your time and efforts! I love you 🧡🧡

This is perhaps the coolest, most detailed (and most considerate ask) I’ve ever gotten. No one ever asks how NightOwl is...I was having a shitty week and now I FEEL GREAT THANKS TO YOU!!

11- Oh god, Y/N…Those sounds you make are so fucking hot

16- I love this...pussy...you like it when I say that?

21- That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you? Look up at me like I’m your god.

33- I really wanna fuck the innocence out of your eyes, cutie.

57- Fuck! You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours.

So I’m getting huge frat party, Tae is into Y/N and it’s obvious but of course eh. So she’s like, if he’s gonna be mean, ill be mean back. tease..

LEGGO!!

...

“Come on!”

“No.”

“Y/N, Please?”

“No.”

“Just this once!”

“Nana, for the last time-” you shut your textbook and turned to face her. “I don’t want to go.”

“It’s midterms! They’re finally over! Celebrate for once!” she sighed. Nana was your party-girl super extroverted best friend. The most popular girl in her sorority and by default the most popular in university. “You never actually get to have fun.”

“Within good reason!” you sighed. “A bunch of drunken frat boys, nerds who’ve never sipped vodka a day in their lives going crazy. Not to mention the disgusting smell of Smirnoff Ice?” you crossed your arms. “That’s your crowd, not mine.”

Nana sighed, running a hand through her silky hair. “I know you think that sororities and fraternities are nothing but drunken horn-dogs-”

“I never said that Nana. Those are your friends. I’m the last person you should be seen partying with.” 

“Well I want to be seen with you! We’ve been friends since we were in diapers! I just want to spend some time with my bestie.” she stood up. “Just for a couple minutes.”

“Alright you broke me, I’ll go.” you sighed, shoving your book into your bag.

“You will? Really!??” she hopped up. “Y/N thank you.” she took you into a bone crushing hug. “I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”

You nodded as Nana excitedly told you her outfit ideas. You felt bad. It wasn’t nice to stereotype and yet there you were. Nana was the nicest and sweetest girl, she just loved to party. You promised yourself you’d enjoy yourself, for her sake. 

...

You walked down the halls, tapping away at your phone. You passed by the Bangtan Boys, the most well known, most popular, and probably most talented boys in all of the entire school. They would for sure debut before graduation.

“Hey Y/N!!” Taehyung chased behind you in an attempt to catch up. “Hey.”

“Um..Hi?” you raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“I heard you were going to Nana’s party.” he smiled. “I was wondering if-”

“That probably isn’t a good idea...reputation remember?” you glowered.

You and him had went out on one date. One. It was something that you came to regret when he grew somewhat of a reputation, that would soon come to haunt your ass. 

“Y/N-” he sighed. “Come on, we can go as friends.”

“To a party...that’s known for people going into broom closets and fuck?”

“Well it doesn’t have to be a broom closet.” he joked, making you scoff. “Come on, just for a few minutes. Save me a dance and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“....Sure, why not.” you gave in. “Just don’t make me regret this decision.”

...(At the party)

Taehyung was fuming. He watched you laugh in a small group of 2 boys and 2 girls. You were laughing at the top of your lungs kicking back a Screwdriver. He was sure that you hated alcohol but apparently not. You were laughing at something that asshole from his dance class had said. You had forgotten all about him. 

You were wearing a school jacket (it had been Nana’s varsity jacket that she insisted went so well with the black skirt she stuck you in.) along with a long sleeved black shirt. You were wearing your favorite shoes he always saw you in.

Sure, you two weren’t ‘together’ but IT WAS THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING. Everyone knew (well not everyone) that you were (not really) his. He noticed one of the guys in particular was getting a bit too flirty for his tastes. You weren’t that funny, but he was laughing as if you were a comedian. You looked like you were enjoying his company too.

No, he couldn’t have that!

He stormed up to the crowd and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your group of friends.

“Hey!” you protested as you were led up the stairs. “Let me go!”

“Quiet.” was all he said as you were taken into a random bedroom. Before you could protest, he crashed his lips over yours. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, holding your head in place. 

“Taehyung!” you mumbled in surprise. “What are you-”

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he backed you up against the room door. He pinned your arms above you head. “You’re mine.” he grumbled. “Mine.” he sounded slightly desperate. He kissed down your jawline, down your neck.

He felts your hands lace into his, relaxing into his touch. He would have been happy had he not been so mad at that asshole flirting with you. 

“T-taehyung. I don’t think doing this here is such a good i-idea-uuuhh.” you tilted your head back slightly. He suckled on your collarbone, making your legs shake. “Tae- S-say something.”

Without speaking, he helped your out of your jacket, which you complied. Before he could do anything else, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back towards you.

Shit, how was he supposed to focus when you were such a good kisser. You played with the ends of his hair as he played with your tongue. He hummed thoughtfully, almost giggling at your desperation to hear him.

He let a small moan escape his lips as he grinded his body against yours. He kissed down your neck, grinding his body against yours in need and desperation.

“T-taehyungie~” you whimpered. “Please say something?”

The way you said ‘please’. Fuck! How could he ignore that?

“ Oh god, Y/N…Those sounds you make are so fucking hot “ he giggled. “You really pissed me off, Y/N.” he grumbled. He wrapped his arms around you tighter, trailing his hands under your shirt. “Hmmm~” he moaned.

“What did I do?” you stared up at him, pouting. “I was talking to my friends.” His hands trailed under your skirt now. “Uhhnn~” your hips bucked as he scratched your clit through your panties. “You aren’t my boyfriend.”

“I’m yours though.” he seethed. “I don’t want you to look at, or even care about anyone else but me. I don’t want you to look at anyone else this way.” he lowered himself to his knees, with an evil smirk on his face. “ That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you? Look at me like I’m your god.” he whispered as your eyes followed him. “No one else gets you, no one else gets to take you.” he hiked up your skirt. “No one else gets to taste you.”

Tae yanked down your panties, shoving them in his pocket. He wasted no time in digging his tongue into your heat. A gasp ripped through your throat. You could only hope no one needed this room any time soon. He quietly licked stripes up your slit. You let out quiet mewls and moans. “T-taehyungie~” you whimpered.

“ I love this...pussy...you like it when I say that? “ he finally spoke, meeting your eyes. “Y/N.” he grunted, driving his tongue deeper into your core. He suckled at your clit, coaxing the sweetest sounds from you. He couldn’t wait anymore, he had to fuck you.

In the span of ten seconds, you were taken from the wall, thrown on the bed, already having witnessed Taehyung removed his belt and yanked down his pants to his knees.

“ I really wanna fuck the innocence out of your eyes, cutie. “ he gleamed. “You want to get some noise out of me?” he slowly slid himself into you. “Then you gotta make some yourself.”

A small, high pitched gasp escaped you as you tightened around his shaft. “Taehyung.” you whimpered. You felt his nails dig into your hips.

“SHIT!” he growled out loud. “Y/N, FUCK! I was wrong.” he managed to get out. “Fuck I still care about you.” he moaned. “Shit I want you to be mine.” he thrust into you even more. Sweaty skin slapping against skin. “God.” he whimpered. “Y/N!!”

There it was, what you wanted to hear. He crashed his mouth messily over yours again. He practically shoved his tongue through the gap in your mouth.

“ Fuck! You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours.” he shuddered, twitching inside of you. “You’re mine.” he thrust harder and deeper. “Only..mine~”

A string of loud curses and moans strung out from the both of you. He pinned your arms above your head, refusing to leave you.

You tilted your head back in pleasure. As he came, he laid sloppy kisses along your neck. You could hear his breathy laughs as he kissed your lips again.

“All...mine.”

...(next day tic tic tic)

“Why hello there, Party animal.” Nana joined your side. “Didn’t see you all night! Did you leave?”

“Nope. I was...with someone.” you trailed off. You wouldn’t admit you were with Taehyung until he did first.

“Hey Y/N, you disappeared yesterday.” that same guy you were talking too before joined both you and Nana.

“She was with me.”

You and Nana both looked up, Taehyung took a seat and through an arm around you. “Hey babe.” he kissed your forehead.

“Oh...I didn’t know you two were dating.”

“We just went public.” he glared in reply. Nana looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “You probably heard us in one of the bedrooms.”

Just as quickly as you calmed down, you were freaking out.

“Wait, that was you guys I heard?” Nana raised an eyebrow at you both. “Y/N?”

“Uh...You know what? Yeah.” you confessed. “No use in lying.”

“Damn Y/N, you didn’t tell me you were with-”

“Well I had to reassure her just where we stood in our relationship.” Taehyung cut the guy off. “I’m sure we’ve established just who Y/N belongs to...”

#bts smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kim taehyung imagines #taehyung imagines #kpop imagine #taehyung x reader #jungkook imagines #seokjin imagines #yoongi imagines #namjoon imagines #jimin imagines #hoseok imagines #smut #imagines #smut imagines #smut scenarios #taehyung x reader smut #kim taehyung smut

[emiewritesthings]

doctor, doctor - jay halstead

jay halstead x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n takes it into her own hands to look after a sick jay 

a/n: i’m not gonna lie i think this is one of my fav things i’ve ever written, i would really appreciate some feedback and p.s the beginning of it is based on that scene from brooklyn 99 :)

masterlist

“okay, it’s 10 o’clock, meaning halstead is officially an hour late to work,” y/n announced as she appeared from the break room with a mug of poorly made coffee. looking around, she had immediately distracted everyone in the room with her playful smile. “okay let’s do this, theories!” she encouraged, taking a sip with excitement, but immediately regretting it as s he spat it back in the mug and abandoned it on adam’s desk as she leant against it.

“uh, he forgot to set his alarm?” antonio suggested, willing to play along with the little game that y/n had created. however clearly his answer didn’t suffice as y/n scrunched up her nose and shook her head in disappointment.

“you are a detective in a unit that just last week rescued 5 people kidnapped and used as chess pieces in a human sized version of the game and the best you could come up with is he forgot to set his alarm? pfft, disappointing, dawson. who’s willing to take this seriously?” she scoffed, brushing his idea off with a simple roll of the eyes as the group laughed at her ridiculousness. 

“maybe he has been murdered by a gang looking for revenge.” adam piped up, earning a sudden and rather forceful slap on the back as y/n cheered. her eyes looking over at antonio as she gestured towards the less experienced detective.

“yes, that’s what i’m talking about. bit dark, ruzek, but better than dawson’s,” y/n hummed, adam clearly pleased with the praise he had received by the pretty detective. “any one else wanna shot?” she offered it out into the room, suddenly the sound of rolling wheels on the chair had everyone turn to face al who was munching on a ham sandwich.

“he walked into the middle of a drug ring, slept with the kingpins daughter and is now having limbs removed, one by the hour.” suddenly an eery silence fell in the bullpen as al suddenly disappeared back to his desk and everyone was left with an image that she was sure was burned on the inside of everyones mind.

“uh, okay, someone might want to arrange a psych check for olinsky asap,” y/n mumbled, pointing in the direction where he had once been and looking around as if checking that she hadn’t been the only one to hear al’s suggestion. “anyways, all of you are wrong. clearly he has joined a motorbike gang and now makes his money on the road striking off names on the government’s hit list.” 

just as the room erupted into discussion about how idiotic this conversation was, as well as their ideas, the sound of footsteps caught y/n’s attention as she arrived at her desk. however as he reached the floor, the reason for his absence was clear.

“woah, you look like death.” adam chuckled, it immediately being silenced as jay sent a deadly glare his way. with his skin paler than normal with undertones of green, a layer of sweat draped over his forehead. jay flashed as smile at y/n as he passed, reaching his desk and collapsing on his chair with a wince. 

as everyone went back to what they were doing, y/n found herself straying her eyes away from her computer screen for longer and longer periods of time until she found herself by his side with a sickly sweet grin, pun intended. 

“i don’t wanna hear it, y/l/n.” jay mumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers hoping it would somehow sooth his pounding skull. whilst usually he had every minute of his day just to hear the woman chat away about whatever crossed her mind, he had found himself in quite the state since last night, leaving him restless and irritable.

“believe it or not, i just wanted to make sure you were alright,” y/n’s entire demeanour crumbled as she melted at the soft features of his face that came with being so vulnerable. but from the look in jay’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t 100% believe her excuse. “and to ask what the hell you think you are doing here? you are sick jay, you need to rest.” 

it was very rare that jay found himself ill. in the years that y/n had been working by the man’s side, she could count on one hand the times she had seen him with so much as a cough. in fact she had called him captain immune system for a period of time when she realised he was pretty much indestructible. y/n couldn’t deny the concern bubbling in her gut seeing him so weak.

“i’m fine,” with her eyes slitted in a look that practically shouted ‘bullshit’, jay continued. “i promise, it’s just a little cold. nothing serious, i think i’ll survive.” he joked dryly, finding it incredibly hard to look away from y/n for her eyes were filled with a warmth that he knew was an expression usually saved for those she cared deeply about. 

“yeah well, you need to take care of yourself, jay, i’m being serious. chicago can cope if you just have one day off, get your energy back.” 

y/n was reminded of the times she had the exact same words spoken to her by the exact person that didn’t seem to want to take them onboard. every time she had so much as a sniffle he would be straight over with some soup that his mother used to swear by and the name of a box set that he would put on for the two of them to watch as he sat stroking her hair in order to try and convince her body to rest. neither of them had anyone else to take care of them, so had taken it upon themselves to be that person for the other. 

“now, i’m gonna go tell voight that i’m taking you home before you infect this whole office.” before he could object, she had already ran (not literally but jay was impressed by her speed walking) to her boss’ office. knocking on the door, with a sweet smile and a sea of words running off her tongue so quickly that voight had to agree just to shut her up, y/n returned by his side. “come on, germ face, your carriage awaits.” 

“you know i love it when you talk dirty to me, y/l/n.” winking at her, y/n giggled as she supported him back down the stairs and out of the station. the two chatted away, y/n explaining how she thought al was secretly a sociopath and jay filing her in on the newest instalment of his apartment block drama until they pulled up in front of jay’s apartment building. 

as they walked through the door, jay’s arm resting around y/n’s shoulders as he struggled to find strength, they managed to reach the sofa before y/n’s body gave up. both of them letting out large breathes before looking at each other and falling into laughter. 

“you hungry, i could try making your mom’s soup?” y/n asked, as she pushed herself up to look down at the man. her hair falling down around her face and tickling jay’s skin. “i’m sure it won’t be as good as her’s but i’m willing to give it a try.” 

the way she was sat with the large window gleaming light behind her, y/n almost looked like an angel. her eyes and smile were wide, with her beauty wrapping its hands around jay’s neck squeezing until his head felt light and he nearly reached up to touch her porcelain skin. but jay had noticed the sensation way before he was blocked up with a cold.

“yeah, uh, that sounds nice.” jay agreed with a minimal amount of sass, but y/n didn’t seem to notice as she moved off the cushions and towards the kitchen. she had pretty much memorised the recipe when jay had finally given it to her on her birthday after offering to pay for it multiple times. whizzing around the kitchen, she was too busy to notice the tired eyes admiring her from afar. 

jay wished his mom was alive to see the woman that she would have loved. all the times he had brought girls back to his family when he was younger didn’t add up to an ounce of the beauty and power that y/n held in her middle finger. the way she bit back at his wit, but also had the ability to spot when he was upset from the other side of the city. she was everything her mother wanted in a daughter in law, everything she wanted for her little boy. 

“okay, give me your honest opinion. i can take it i promise.” y/n sudden appeared with a tray that held a large bowl of the semi-thick orange liquid, a glass of water and a couple pills. approaching jay, she carefully helped him up from where he laid and placed it onto his lap. “actually that was a complete lie, do not tell me the truth. i may just cry.” 

“why thank you, nurse y/l/n.” he teased.

“it’s doctor actually.” she quipped back.

jay chuckled lowly, as he grabbed the spoon and took a large spoonful to his mouth. feeling the slight sting of his tongue at the heat, it was only when the flavours hit that he was suddenly transported to an earlier time in his life. a simpler time. only this time there was y/n by his side. 

“the verdict?” she prompted, taking a seat besides him, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

“not sure whether i want to tell you, don’t think you’ll fit in this room if your ego grows any bigger.” y/n grinned as she leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. jay closed his eyes at the contact, feeling the ache in his body freeze for a moment as it registered the tingling sensation. “all jokes aside, it really is good.” 

“i’m glad, your mother was a smart woman.” she nodded, leaning forward to turn tv on. jay continued to spoon the soup into his mouth, as y/n chose a show that they both had started together and had refused to watch another minute without the other. y/n leaned back making herself comfortable, having already texted voight telling him that she would most likely need the entire day off, and getting the go ahead, she had no plans other than being by jay’s side for the next however many hours. 

it was sometime in the early evening and the tv continued to emit light, but neither jay nor y/n was paying any attention to the drama. jay, with his head on y/n lap, was leaning into her touch as her short, thin fingers ran through the dark strands that sprouted from his scalp. his body wrapped in a blanket that y/n had grabbed from his room, he felt completely at peace. 

“you know what, i think you are more bearable when you are at death’s door.” y/n joked quietly, as the forest green eyes were exposed back to her own. jay groaned in annoyance, realising that there was no sweet y/n without the sharped tongue y/n. a trait he adored, but at his own expense. 

“and to think i was starting to think you had gone soft on me, y/l/n.” he hummed, wishing he could forever have her giggle on repeat wherever he went, for the sound made goosebumps run down his neck and down his arms, like some kind of magic that only y/n possessed. 

“as much as i love you, i can’t risk my bad ass reputation for you.” 

although jay was sure it was just part of her banter, the moment the ‘i love you’ fell off her tongue, he found himself wide awake, unable to push past the feeling in his gut as it looped over again and again in his mind. y/n could see the conflict in his face, as he glanced up at her with something she had never noticed before. 

“you mean it?” he asked. 

“mean what?” confused, her fingers fell from his hair, making jay regret ever opening his mouth.

“do you really, you know, love me?” he knew he had committed too far to try and retreat. maybe he could blame it on the fact he couldn’t think straight, although she was like a lie detector that wouldn’t let such a bogus excuse pass. y/n blinked down at him, watching as he sat up to look at her with a hunger that needed to be addressed. swallowing the lump in her throat, y/n nodded.

“of course, you are one of my best friends, jay.” it was true, but it wasn’t the full truth, both of them knew that.

“i didn’t realise we had started lying to one another,” jay’s eyes were soft, as he reached to place his hand against her cheek, smiling as she slowly leaned into it. closing her eyes, she tried to find what direction she was looking for, but didn’t dare take the first step. without even thinking, jay jutted forward and captured her lips before they could form a single syllable. 

gently, but passionately, jay and y/n moved their lips against the others. the feeling was ever-growing as the kiss deepened and deepened until they had no choice to pull back, deprived of their ability to breath. as jay’s eyes came back into view, y/n, for the first time in her life, had lost the ability to form a sentence. 

“we just...” she began but it ran off quickly. jay chuckled.

“we did.”

the two sat in silence, examining the other one’s face until y/n found herself moving forward until she was sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as she pressed her lips against his. just like before their bodies and minds were set ablaze with desire and what had remained unspoken for what felt like forever. jay had nearly completely forgotten about the illness that had put him in the care of the woman that he craved more than anything else the world had to offer. 

as their lips parted ways, suddenly the air had thinned and everything felt... normal. jay’s lips were unable to break out of the large grin mould that y/n had put them in, which was soon mirrored by the young woman. a small giggle escaping her lips.

“if i get whatever it is you have, i expect the exact same treatment.” 

“only for you, doctor y/l/n.”

#jay #halstead #jay halstead #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd #adam ruzek #antonio dawson #alvin olinsky #hank voight #halstead brothers #cpd #love #one shot #imagine #doctor #erin lindsay #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x y/n #kevin atwater #trudy platt #voight #atwater #ruzek #kim burgess

[darling-i-read-it]

Wash Up

Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: nakedness, wounds, men at bars, cuteness

Author’s Note: I just finished this show and i just am in love with this man thats that you know what i mean. I really liked this fic too so I hope you guys do as well! 

Summary: Geralt returns from a few days away from you 

Genre: fluff

Song: rivers and roads by the head and the heart 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

The town scuffled around you. It seemed that the world moved around at a high pace. Your world moved so quickly. As quick as the strangers around you, spilling and knocking over drinks while laughing with friends. Jaskier sat beside you at the corner of the bar. He had out his loot, mulling over the next song that he wanted to write. 

You had a pint of ale in your hands as you watched and waited.

“Is advantageous to pretentious?” Jaskier asked. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow, shrugging.

“I think that it works. How are you going to use it?” He showed you the piece of parchment where there were scribbled lyrics and notes. You looked it over and nodded idly. “Not too pretentious.” 

“Geralt will think it’s too pretentious,” he pointed out, hesitating to put down the word amongst the others. You shook your head and turned to him, away from the town gathered around you. 

“Don’t actually listen to anything Geralt says. He, himself, is too pretentious,” you promised. Jaskier shook his head.

“Easy for you to say. I don’t think he’s spoken an ill word of you ever.” You rolled your eyes and took a small drink of your ale. 

“We’ve had our fair share of fights.” 

“And they usually end with me not getting a good nights sleep. I wish you would warn me next time so that I could get a room far away from both of you,” he muttered. You chuckled lowly.

“Sounds like you need another drink to get those creative juices flowing, huh Jaskier?” You stood up and ruffled his hair. He swatted your hand away but he was smiling. You and Jaskier had grown close. You didn’t act like you hated him like Geralt tended to do. You were a nice balance between the two of them, such happiness matched by such bitterness. You had known Geralt much longer than Jaskier but he seemed to add some laughs to the relationship. 

You walked over to the bar and put down your empty cup. 

“Two more please.” 

“On me.” You turned over to the man who had just approached. It was not Geralt which surprised you. Geralt had been away for a couple of days. You had been itching for him to return. He left you to watch Jaskier which you thought was stupid. He liked to tag along and you were useful in a fight. Geralt was picky much too often.

“Thank you but I’ve got it,” you told the stranger. He shook his head. 

“Two for a girl like yourself?” he questioned. You shook your head.

“The second one if for my friend over there,” you said, pointing over to Jaskier. He was messing with the strings and singing quietly so that only he could hear.

“What kind of woman are you to be stuck with a bard like that?” You scoffed.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business sir,” you promised. The bartender gave you the two drinks and you gave him a nod goodbye. You got barely three steps away before he grabbed your arm, spilling the drink all over you. You let out a small gasp, looking down at the dress he had ruined. You were lucky you had left your armor in the room. 

The people closest to you turned to look., Jaskier looked up and stood when he saw you were in distress. He crumpled up his paper and put it in his pocket as he walked over. 

Geralt got there first.

You raised an eyebrow and your mouth opened in surprise as you saw him. He put himself between you and the man who had troubled you with his advances. He was covered in the guts of some monster, from head to toe. Jaskier got to you and you handed him the full cup. 

“For you,” you said, smiling. 

“You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” Jaskier nodded, giving you a happy grin. Geralt however, was not done with the man.

“She told you it was none of your business and then you ruin her dress. I suppose you have the money to pay for it,” he said stiffly. The man realized who Geralt was and put his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t realize she was a witcher's property,” he said. “My apologies.”

“I’m no one’s property. Now the money for my dress,” you said, pushing past Geralt. Geralt let you move past him. You stood your guard against the man. 

“I have no money to spare for a rag you may wear once.” You nodded, slowly, stiffly. You turned to Jaskier who was slowly sipping his drink.

“I’m sorry dear,” you said softly. He handed you the drink before you had to ask. You turned back around and sprayed it in the man's face. It dripped off his beard and onto his clothes that looked nothing more than the rags he spoke of. He reached for his dagger but Geralt stepped in front of you once more. 

“Call it even,” he said. The man looked at the sword draped across his back and how he was covered in the guts of a monster that was likely much harder to kill than the stranger would ever be. The man nodded, letting out a sigh. You turned to the bar and raised a finger.

“On the house,” the bartender said, shaking a bit at the sight of Geralt. You took it with a kind smile and handed it to Jaskier. 

“Voila,” you said with a smile. “The drink has returned.” He laughed and shook his head. Geralt grabbed your arm gently and you nodded. “Keep ‘advantageous’.” Jaskier nodded as you walked out of the bar. He had always been so fond of you. A kind soul that was locked in life with a witcher. It made for good songs.

You and Geralt walked out of the bar and then wordlessly up to the place that you were staying. You were drenched in ale and he was drenched in guts but you did not speak. You reached the room and he disappeared wordlessly into the small closet. You walked into the bathroom and started to draw a hot bath. It took a few minutes but Geralt returned to you, a change of clothes for the both of you. He put them down on the counter and walked over to where you sat, beside the bath, your fingers just barely touching the water as you tested its temperature. 

At the sight of you, peaceful, Geralt eased. It had been a hard monster to kill, harder than most. He had wondered if his travel home was going to be delayed or not but he made it just as night fell. You put your head against the side of the bath and he started to undress. 

You had seen each other naked countless times before. There was no sense of awkwardness anymore to it. He gestured for you to take his hand and you did so, standing up. He turned you around gently and slid the dress off of your shoulders. It fell very carefully onto the floor. He did his best not to touch your body with his guts covered hands. You took off the rest of your undergarments and by the time you were finished with that, Geralt was in the bath. 

You sat behind him, grabbing a sponge and ringing it out. You started to wash the guts off him slowly. He eased into your touch, relaxing. 

“What happened while I was gone?” he asked gruffly. You shrugged.

“Nothing eventful. I would have liked to go with you.”

“Well then who would have washed me up.” As the grime started to ease away you noticed a new scratch on his back. You brushed your finger over it lightly. 

“I would have avoided this growing scar,” you whispered. You kissed it gently, lips lingering on his skin. He took your hand off of his shoulder where it lay. He brought it to his lips and held it there, closing his eyes as he kissed your palm. 

The door to the room opened. Geralt's eyes opened quickly and he turned to see who was disrupting his peace. 

“Y/N?!” Jaskier yelled. You chuckled lowly and sank further into the water, ringing out the sponge. 

“Busy!” you yelled back. You heard his walking stop. 

“I thought I told you to warn me!” he pouted. You placed your head against Geralt's back and smiled lightly.

“Go away Jaskier!” Geralt yelled gruffly. You hit him gently.

“We’ll be out before you go to bed!” you called. He seemed to be okay with that.

“Fine! Be quieter!” he yelled and the door shut again.

“Why make promises you can’t keep?” Geralt asked you, voice back to a softer tone. You put down the sponge and he turned his head to the side to look at you.

“I’d rather he leave us thinking we will be back soon.” 

“You’re too nice to him.”

“Kindness is free you know.” You grabbed his hand and placed your head on his shoulder. You moved down and kissed his skin. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” 

He turned his head and kissed the side of your head.

“We aren’t going to be back before Jaskier goes to sleep are we.” 

“Not a chance.”

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia imagines #geralt x reader #geralt imagines #the witcher imagines

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Canary, Part 5

First

Previous

Tim tipped his head to the side as he considered the woman in front of him.

She had a slightly nervous smile as she pulled one of her earbuds out of her ears. “Hi.”

Her eyes flicked past him and, after quickly glancing back to make sure no one was about to attack him, he realized she was feeling cornered.

… probably because she was currently being cornered.

He hesitantly took a few steps to the side until he could lean against the wall. “I’m not here to hurt you or anything, I just want to talk,” he promised.

Her hand slipped out of her pocket. He was willing to bet that she had some kind of weapon in there.

Which was good, honestly. Gotham was a dangerous place for newcomers like her.

“... so, what’re you here for?” She asked when he didn’t say anything for a while.

He bit his lip as he considered her.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 27.

The first time they’d spotted her following them around, they’d assumed she was just another alias of Canary… but the fourteen aliases they had found for Canary so far had always had one thing in common: despite how far back it may have gone or how many connections she may have had, there was never anyone alive to corroborate her story.

She would have definitely done that this time since there was a 100% chance that the bats would notice her. Canary would have made sure that, no matter what, they couldn’t pop on over to anyone’s house and ask about her.

But Marinette had two parents. They were back in Paris, of course, but they still existed. Babs had spotted them walking to the grocery store just yesterday. They had a consistent call history with them dating back years.

He had entertained the idea that they could be paid actors… but Canary worked alone. She had informants and sponsors, sure, but partners? No. It had been nine years, if she was going to start working with people she probably would have done that already.

Marinette checked out.

… or, at least, she checked out in all ways but two.

“How did you get here?” Asked Tim.

Marinette frowned a little. “... plane?”

He shook his head. “We have footage of you at Roissy Airport, but you never arrived in Gotham.”

Her skin paled. “Must be a glitch.”

Okay. That’s definitely not suspicious at all, no way.

He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Maybe you missed me.”

“With our facial recognition scanners? And three people checking it over?”

Her hand was back in her pocket and her eyes were flicking to the exit nervously.

“I’m not going to deport you or anything,” he added quickly. “Lots of people here aren’t documented and that’s totally fine, the immigration system is totally messed up… I’ll shut up about that now, that’s not helping... I just… want to know. Curious.”

“Paranoid,” she corrected with a hesitant grin.

“... cautious,” he said after a few seconds.

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

“It’s much nicer than paranoid, that’s for sure,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

She rolled her eyes and he smiled as some of the tension in her shoulders disappeared.

“The horse miraculous,” she said after a few seconds. “That’s how I got here.”

He sighed internally. Metas in Gotham. Not good. There was a reason that rule was in place. If metas -- even good ones -- started coming then there was nothing stopping the huge, otherworldly threats from following them over. They’d stick with their overdramatic fucks that need therapy, thanks, their gadgets didn’t exactly hold up against literal gods.

And then Marinette giggled. “You don’t need to look so scared. The weird old guy who holds onto all the miraculous… he doesn’t really use them, he just keeps them locked in a weird box thing. I just…” She shrugged. “I had something on him and he was more than happy to get rid of me.”

… well, that’s a little concerning, thought Tim.

Not exactly unexpected, though. She’d very publicly gotten a restraining order by Chat Noir around ten years prior and, while none of the other miraculous holders had come out against her, many of the ones that had revealed themselves as holders had already denounced her. Tim wouldn’t have been surprised if she had stalked more of them -- hell, she was stalking him and his family, clearly she hadn’t limited herself to Chat Noir.

But this raised his second question: “Why now?”

She cringed. “Well, I’d thought about moving a long time ago. No place in France was going to hire me with the whole ‘stalking one of their beloved superheroes’ thing… but I decided to stay for a while. I didn’t want it to seem like I was running away, y’know?”

He nodded his understanding slowly. That made sense. It wasn’t a decision based on logic, but not all decisions are.

She smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Also, I kind of missed having superheroes, to be honest.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t going to correct her use of the word ‘superheroes’ instead of ‘vigilantes’, English was at least her second language and that would be rude, so he went down a different route: “I thought they still had their miraculous. It’d be stupid if they didn’t. Mayura is still out there and all.”

“As far as I know, everyone but Ladybug and Chat Noir gave up their miraculous. Everyone knows Mayura is just Adrien Agreste even if we can’t prove it. Nothing else makes sense,” she said with a shrug.

He bit his lip. “I thought that the secretary disappeared that day, though. Wasn’t it her?”

“Nathalie Sancoeur? I heard she moved to America,” Marinette said with a shrug. “But America hasn’t had any attacks, so no one in Paris thinks it was her. Adrien is probably just waiting until the miraculous holders drop their guards.”

He nodded slowly. He didn’t realize he was going to be gossiping and discussing conspiracy theories with a person who stalked heroes but, he had to admit, it was kind of fun. Reminded him of the good old days when he was just a kid who followed the bats around for fun.

… but that wasn’t how things were anymore. He had responsibilities now. Which he was currently not doing. Oops.

“I should get back to work.”

“I should get back to watching you work,” she half-joked.

He hesitated. “Is there any way I can convince you not to do that? Gotham isn’t Paris, it’s dangerous here.”

She grinned. “I stalked a guy who had a literal god at his beck and call. I can handle a few odd goons,” she said.

He bit his lip but nodded. “Call for help if you ever need it.”

“Fine. Fine.”

He got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t going to but he was going to give her the benefit of the doubt just for now.

He pulled his grapple gun from his belt and hooked it around the rooftop.

“See you later.”

“Well, you will see me later, I’ll --,” she began, only to cut herself off with a gasp: “NO!”

He quickly checked over his shoulder but he didn’t see anything. He turned back to her, questioning look on his face, only to see her devastated expression.

“Cedric died,” she said sadly, pointing at the ear with the earbud still in it.

…?

~

Marinette sat in a coffee shop, sipping at a drink as she worked on her computer.

Tim Drake had five coffee shops that he enjoyed. The tiny tweet she’d sent out a little over a week ago ensured that he wasn’t going to be allowed coffee at his place of work. So, he was likely to go and get coffee somewhere else. She was currently sitting at the one closest to WE.

… it was very expensive. She needed to drink her coffee slower.

She squinted at her resume with a frown.

She was pretty sure it was good enough to get in, but…

Marinette sighed lightly and let her head hit the table. Fuck. She hated this stupid job so much.

She heard the chair across from her scrape against the wooden floors and slowly lifted her head. She squinted at the guy in front of her for a minute.

“Hello,” she said carefully.

The brown-haired man smiled at her.

She glanced him up and down. He was clean in a slimy kind of way. He was too nice. His hair was coiffed perfectly, his suit neatly pressed, his face clean-shaven. People who had the guts to dress like that in Gotham were always the worst of the worst.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully.

She sighed. “You weren’t even going to ask if you could sit here?”

“You’ve been alone for a while. Figured it was safe to assume you didn’t have anyone.”

Cool. Cool cool cool. Her hand slipped to the dagger hidden in her hoodie pocket. She may not know what kind of bad he was, but he was definitely bad news.

“No, actually, I was just waiting for my friend to get off work so they could join me.”

“Oh! I’ll keep you company until they show up!”

Damn. She hated when people called her bluff.

She forced her most pleasant smile to her face. “No thanks. I have work to do, actually.”

“Applying for jobs, right?”

She paled.

“Sorry, but I was curious so I just peeked over your shoulder a little bit. I actually had a couple of openings at my job, and you seem like a good candidate, if you’d like --.”

“No!” She said quickly.

His smile didn’t waver, but his eyes narrowed just a little. “I was just offering you a job.”

“I don’t want to get a job this way. I prefer the formal interview process and everything,” she lied.

“Oh, well, my company is having interviews tomorrow and there should be an open spot around --.”

A hand came to rest on the man’s shoulder.

“Hey, bud, she said no.”

~~~

TheBetterCanary: @/BrucieWayne give me a hundred million dollars and ill stop doing crime

BrucieWayne: Done.

TheBetterCanary: i take it back five hundred million

BrucieWayne: Sure.

TheBetterCanary: a billion

BrucieWayne: Alright.

TheBetterCanary: what the fuck

~~~~~

Next

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Canary taglist: @jayjayspixiepop @unoriginalmess @miraculousfanfic127 @probably-a-hologram

#my little cousin stole my phone #:( havent seen it in days #its lost to the void #helpppppp #canary #maribat #timinette #timari #shutterbug #timmari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin

[army-author]

sour rose | jhs

❝ jung hoseok is the only guitarist whom you consider to be a threat. no one else is good enough to rival you. yet, when honest feelings slip to the surface before a competition, you realise there’s more to hoseok than you realised... ❞

➝ pairing: hoseok x reader

➝ prompt: character a and character b have been rivals for as long as their friends can remember. one day, someone catches them holding hands.

➝ genre: fluff; very mild angst; rivals to lovers; punk band au

➝ word count: 1.5k

➝ warnings: profanity; mentions of illness

➝ playlist: ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t’ve?) - buzzcocks   ;  know your enemy - green day   ;   basement noise - all time low   ;   fall - neck deep   ;   criminal - state champs (yes, i know, i never moved past my emo phase)

You only know one thing this evening, as you stand in the humid street, waiting for your concert venue to open: Jung Hoseok is the enemy.

He’s the only one standing between you and victory.

In an hour, you’ll be up on stage, riffing on your surf green Stratocaster and screaming your heart out, all for the glory of a cash prize, proffered to the best punk band. All the other groups have no chance against you, and your bandmates from Sour Rose. All other groups, apart from Jung Hoseok and his band, Just Dessert.

No one else matches your skills. No one else matches your charisma. No one else matches your attention to detail. Apart from Hoseok. That’s why he’s your enemy. Because you need that cash prize. More than anything else.

“Hey,” you turn hearing a familiar voice, to see Jungkook, Sour Rose’s drummer approaching.

“Hey yourself,” you grin, “How’re ya feeling?”

“Nauseous,” Jungkook admits

You clap a hand on his shoulder, “You’ll be fine. Nothing to worry about. I’ve seen you at practice. You’re an absolute beast.”

Jungkook smiles at your compliment. It often surprises you how shy he is. Place him behind a drum set, with some sticks in his hands, and he transforms, thrashing confidently through complex rhythms.

As you chat, other bands begin to gather outside the music club, all waiting to get their equipment ready before the competition commences.

Your expression sours as you spot the familiar faces of the Just Dessert members. Your gaze automatically snaps to Hoseok – the man who stands between you and your winnings. His black hair is styled, spiked off his forehead, and he sports a colourful t-shirt with his band’s corny logo in gaudy shades of pink. At least he had the decency to pull a black leather jacket over his shirt to spare your eyes, complete with pins and patches.

As he walks up to the door, his eyes catch yours, and he gives you a nod of acknowledgement. He knows – just like you – that you’re the only competition he has. Despite your resolve, you feel a thrill spread through your stomach.

Before you can exchange any words, the bouncer opens the door to the musicians, and you flood into the venue, loosing Hoseok in the throng.

- ✽ ✽ ✽ -

The following minutes are a blur as you catch up with the rest of your band while you check sound levels, ensuring that your amp is setup correctly, and blasting through a few scales to warm up.

Before you know it, the first band is getting on stage, and starting to thump through their song. The drum beat is simplistic; their guitar tone is too generic. You know their performance will not stand a chance beside the song Sour Rose has prepared. It’s only Just Dessert that you are worried about. Another thrill runs through you.

Needing a glass of water to wet your dry throat and steady your nerves, you tell your bandmates that you need to go, before scurrying to the back room where the music club has prepared drinks and snacks for the musicians.

Picking up a plastic cup of water, you take a sip. The liquid has already heated up from the warmth of hundreds of bodies packed into a small venue. It has the metallic taste of tap water.

“Oh, hey.” Hearing a voice behind you, you spin around to find Jung Hoseok sauntering into the back room.

You immediately clam up, fingers tightening on the flimsy clear plastic of your cup. “Hi, Hoseok,” you reply tersely.

“You seem on edge tonight,” he notices as he reaches around you to grab a drink, “Is everything okay?”

“Yep,” you snap, “I’m peachy.” Good job convincing him. Now he knows something is up for sure. You and Hoseok have been performing at the same venues for years – from school productions to charity events at local bars. He knows what your normal is, and this is not it. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Actually, yeah, no, I’m not so good. I need this win tonight. More than I’ve ever needed a win before.”

Hoseok’s brows pull down into a frown. “Why’s that?”

You hesitate, unsure of admitting weakness to your rival. Yet, as his eyes observe you – eyes so familiar because they’ve been watching you for so long, set on a familiar face in the crowd when you perform on every stage – you find the words spilling easily from your mouth. “My mum fell sick earlier this month, and I really need the cash prize to pay for her medical bills.”

Hoseok considers your words, unusually quiet, then offers you a bright grin. “Well then, you’re lucky that the money’s guaranteed to end up in your hands.”

“What? How can you know that?” you ask.

Hoseok takes a sip from his cup, before setting it down on the table, “Well, from what I can see, our bands are the only ones capable of winning. So if you win, you get the money. And if I win, I’ll give you the money.”

Your mouth falls open at this, and embarrassed, you quickly clamp it shut again. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Sounds like you need the money more than I do,” he nods, “I mean, Just Dessert is planning to spend it on new equipment, which we can always buy at a later point.” He reaches across, and his hand brushes against your fingers, warm against your cool skin. “Your mum’s health comes first.”

Suddenly, you find tears welling in your eyes. You barely cry in front of anyone, and yet, here you are, breaking down in front of the one man you had seen as an enemy. “Thank you, Hoseok,” you wobble out, past your tears.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reaches over, pulling you into a hug that you had not realised that you needed until now. His arms offer craved-for comfort. Your body moulds to fit his as he pulls you closer, rubbing soothing circles on your taut back. He smells of pine and leather. Despite all your misgivings, you find yourself relaxing against him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Hoseok assures you as you pull away from his warmth, wiping your cheeks for any remaining traces of tears. You’re sure that your eyeliner must be smudged to hell by now.

“Fuck, I must look a right mess,” you grumble, trying to carefully wipe at your eyes.

Hoseok inches closer, his hand still on yours, and with his free fingers, he gently wipes at the eyeliner that had escaped your lash line. “There, all better.”

You offer him a watery smile, hoping no more tears will fall. How could you have been so stupid to think that Hoseok was your enemy, when here is is offering you the kindest smile? Another thrill runs through you. Hoseok’s fingers are comforting in your hand; his fingertips are hard and calloused, just like yours after years jammed against hard guitar strings. You squeeze his hand, and hope he understands all the gratitude you intend in the small gesture.

The door opens, ripping you from this quiet moment, and Hoseok’s bandmate Jimin stands in the hall outside. “Hoseok, we’re on in five.” Jimin’s eyes fall to your fingers threaded through Hoseok’s. You quickly drop Hoseok’s hand, as if his skin burnt you.

Jimin doesn’t comment, but you see his eyes widen. Hoseok offers you a reassuring grin, before he walks over, pushing Jimin down the hall. “Let’s go, Jiminie!” You’re left alone to ponder the warmth that Hoseok left on your hand.

- ✽ ✽ ✽ -

“Well, here’s the money as promised,” Hoseok hands you his winnings with a smile. In the end, Sour Rose had missed out on the prize, only a few metaphorical inches behind Just Dessert.

You’re in the back room once more, surrounded by musicians, relaxing after the competition. The water has been replaced by beers and spirits.

You smile, “Thank you, Hoseok. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Hoseok returns your grin, “You don’t have to repay me. I wanted to help. Although… if you’re offering, you could take me out for coffee later?”

“What, like a date?”

He winks at you, and your cheeks turn red as another thrill scurries through your body. You finally understand.

“Wouldn’t people start gossiping if two rivals started dating?” you ask.

“Kind of too late to worry about that,” Hoseok shrugs, “Jimin’s already convinced we’re a couple.”

You flush, “I suppose we’ll just have to make his hearsay a reality.”

Hoseok presses his lips together, dimples popping up on his cheeks as he suppresses a triumphant smile. “I thought you’d never agree.”

- THE END -

#btsghostiemarathon #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #bts imagines #hoseok imagine #bts x reader #bts x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #bts fluff #hoseok fluff #bts angst #hoseok angst #bts punk au #bts rivals au #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan imagines #bangtan scenarios #j-hope #jung hoseok #bts drabble #bts writing #jung hoseok fluff #jung hoseok angst #bts fanfic #bts fic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic

[morganaspendragonss]

holly, for sad angst prompts: “ do you know how hard it was to let you go? ”

tarlos, maybe one of them has to rush into danger? >.>

crack and crumble, it's all too much

so...not exactly what you asked for. i hope you like it anyway my love 💚

@911lonestarangstweek day 3 - j is for...jump

thanks to @noxsoulmate for the beta

title from humpty by mitski

ao3 | 2k | suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, canon divergence, hurt tk, worried carlos, hopeful ending

TK used to be afraid of heights.

No, not heights.

Falling.

As a kid, he was terrified of falling, even if it was only off the playground equipment in the local park. He’d have no problem climbing up; the issue came when he got to the top, when he would freeze up as he stared down the two metre drop to the sawdust ground. The other kids would get annoyed, pushing at him until he almost, almost, fell—but then, at the last second, when TK was tilting on the edge, his dad would be there to catch him, lifting him up before he ever had a chance to fall.

His dad was always there, never failing to scoop him up in his arms, never failing to save him.

Until he did.

And, oh, how TK fell.

He learned to love the rush of it, that swooping sensation in his stomach as he took just enough pills to push him off the edge into oblivion. It was...beautiful.

TK didn’t know what he was ever afraid of.

And then, he fell too far. And he learned.

Heights haven’t bothered him for years now—no more than the healthy amount, anyway. He’s even managed to find some kind of pleasure in them, in the feeling of his feet leaving solid ground, always with the knowledge that he’ll touch down safely soon enough.

The team call him crazy for enjoying it, but TK has so little happiness in life these days. He’ll take whatever he can get, artificial and temporary though it may be.

He wishes he was feeling something now. He’d give anything to not be feeling the overwhelming empty that’s slowly been consuming him for months—even fear would do at this point.

But he’s staring down a drop that will kill him if he lets it, and he feels nothing.

Idly, he wonders what brought him here. Nothing had happened tonight—or, nothing out of the ordinary—but, somehow, he’d known. Known that it was time; that tonight was the night.

That, if he didn’t do it now, he never would, and he can’t just keep existing like this.

So.

A rooftop. An unknown fall. And a choice.

Fight or flight; stay or go. Legs swinging over the ledge, TK’s hands tighten on the edge of the roof, and he doesn’t know if it’s to push himself over or hold himself back.

(and, does it even count as jumping if he just...lets it happen? if he just leans a little too far forward and lets gravity do the rest? tk thinks it probably shouldn’t, but that’s what they'll call it anyway when they find his broken body splayed on the concrete below.

he jumped, they’ll say, which is wrong because that implies that tk was an active participant in all of this. really, he’s just too tired to try anymore, and if his body is going to slip off the edge of a building, then who’s tk to stop it?

but it’s semantics, nothing more. it’s not like he’s going to be around to correct them anyway, and maybe it’s better for them to think he chose this. that he wanted this, instead of just not wanting to exist. maybe)

Either way, he’s a coward. The only difference is that, if he jumps, he’ll be a dead one and everyone will know it; if he stays, he’ll be a living one, and holding the shame of it all inside him.

He already knows which idea he prefers.

TK has lived with his own cowardice for too long already—ever since he got shot, it’s been festering in him, growing and twisting with each passing day.

It’s jumping every time a car backfires or a damn plate shatters.

It’s telling Carlos that, if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll never contact TK again.

It’s putting on his firefighter’s uniform day after day after day, despite how ill it now seems to fit.

TK hasn’t been brave a day in his life, and he knows that it’s time to put an end to it.

His hands, still resting on the edge of the roof, press into the brick a little harder, and his body inches forward. He’s barely holding on now; shifting so his grip, latched onto the roof side of the ledge, is the only thing keeping him up here.

And— There it is.

The swooping in his gut that used to scare him, and now thrills him.

TK closes his eyes, taking a moment to bask in it. After all, it’s going to be the last thing he ever feels.

Except he takes too long.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him is lit up with flashing blue and red, and when TK opens his eyes, he can just about make out the numbers 126 on the responding fire engine. It makes him recoil, sliding back to relative safety on the ledge as panic flares up in his chest.

Nonononononononononono—

It’s not supposed to be like this.

They’re not—fuck.

And TK really must be a coward, because the knowledge that his family is waiting at the bottom for him to come down—whether that’s by the fast way or the slow one—brings all his forgotten fears roaring back.

Do they even know? Do they know it’s him who’s sitting on the edge of life and death? TK can’t figure out which one would be worse—not knowing and finding out when his body breaks in front of them, or knowing and watching him fall anyway.

Working it out is a lost cause, he figures. Maybe they’re equally as bad, but he shouldn’t care. He can’t, if he’s going to do this, and he was so sure that he was, but that was before the 126 showed up, before—

“TK?”

The universe must have it out for him, because TK knows that voice. He doesn’t turn, just sighs and slumps dejectedly, wearily replying, “Hey Carlos.”

“Hey,” Carlos says after a beat, voice quiet like he’s talking to a spooked animal. There’s a scared waver to it that betrays his mask of professionalism, and TK almost can’t handle the guilt it brings. “We’re pretty high up, huh?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act all nice and innocent. You know why I’m here.”

“Actually, I don’t.” There’s no hint of accusation in Carlos’s voice, but he has dropped the soothing tone, which is something. “Maybe you could fill me in? I promise I won’t say anything—I’m just here to listen.”

TK knows what this is, too. It’s not that he’s been here before, exactly, but he’s been in similar enough positions to recognise the talk for what it is. But… The thing is, he kind of doesn’t care. He wants to talk; for some reason, he wants to tell Carlos everything that’s been piling up and up for months, and has now led him to this roof.

“I’m not moving,” he says first, in case Carlos gets any ideas about what this means.

“That’s okay.”

It’s not, but TK doesn’t bother calling him out. He drums his fingers on the ledge, staring vacantly at the drop, keeping his silence for a few minutes. It surprises him when Carlos keeps his promise, and the quiet is almost peaceful now.

“Remember I told you about my relapse? It was—It wasn’t just a relapse. I overdosed after I proposed to my boyfriend and instead found out that he was cheating on me,” he says eventually. “I should have died that night, but my dad saved me and made me move down here with him. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t fight him; I was too tired to care. It was like I told you—everything was grey and I just… I guess it never got better.

“I mean, there were moments, sure. But then I got shot and everything just fell off the rails for me. I’ve been going through the motions for months now and it’s not getting better and I’m sick of trying. It’ll be better for everyone if I’m gone, including you and including me.”

“Why’s that?” Carlos asks, the question almost startling TK.

“For me?” he starts, huffing a breathy laugh. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I barely want to get out of bed, so this is a definite improvement. My dad won’t have to keep cleaning up my messes, the team won’t have to deal with—with me. Everyone will be better off.”

“What about me?”

TK stiffens, almost turning this time. “What are you talking about?”

“I won’t be better off without you,” Carlos says, ignoring TK’s answering scoff. “I’m serious. I… After the solar storm, do you know how hard it was to let you go? It killed me, but I did it because I thought that was what you needed.

“I don’t know if you thought you needed it too, or if it was just you trying to push me away, but that doesn’t matter now, alright? There are people who love you, TK, and we all just want to help you.” He pauses and TK hears him sigh shakily. “Letting you go was damn near impossible for me the first time, but none of us want to try doing it for good. You’re wrong about us, okay? You dad, the team...me—we won’t be better off without you.”

TK squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head as tears spring up in his eyes. Guilt twists uncomfortably in his gut and his head is a mess, his mind at war to work out what he wants.

“You’ve probably seen that the 126 are here,” Carlos continues. “Your dad and a couple of the team are waiting on the stairs to get you down, and if you come back with us, we’ll do whatever it takes to get you help, in whatever way you need. Please, TK. Come down.”

TK shudders, squeezing the roof again as his body wracks with sobs. He feels sick when he considers the drop, considers the fall, and it’s like his fear, newly revived, is now anchoring him to the roof. He knows what will happen if he lets himself fall, and he doesn’t want to die like this.

Not now. Not yet.

Slowly, he nods, and Carlos must understand as TK hears him talk quietly into his radio. The next few minutes are a blur, tears slipping freely down his cheeks as more people—his family—join him and Carlos on the roof.

“TK,” his dad’s voice says, steady despite everything, “I’m going to come to you now with the rescue harness, alright? Don’t worry, it’s just me, I swear.”

He hears one set of feet slowly come across towards him, and then feels the presence of a body at his back as his dad kneels behind and to the side of him.

“Hang in there,” he says softly. “I’m just going to slip the rescue harness around you.”

A wave of nausea washes over TK at the thought of being touched, and he shakes his head. “No, please, don’t.”

“I have to, TK,” his dad says. “I’ll be careful and it’ll just be for a second, then you’ll be safe. I’ve got you, son.”

TK swallows once, twice. He learned a long time ago not to trust those words, especially not when they came from his dad, but this time—this time—he wants so badly to believe. He takes a few deep breaths, then nods, squeezing his eyes shut as the harness is secured around his body.

“Good, that’s good. Now we’re just gonna scooch back a little ways and we’ll be home free.”

TK closes his eyes as they inch their way further onto solid ground, keeping going until they must be at least five feet from the edge and his dad pulls him into a crushing hug.

“We’ve got you, kid,” he’s whispering in TK’s ear. “We’ve got you.”

TK blinks through blurred vision, gaze going from his dad’s worried face, to Paul and Marjan standing a few feet away, and then to Carlos, a small, sad smile on his lips as he looks down at him.

And, just this once, TK decides to believe.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #owen strand #lone star #911ls #tw suicide attempt #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

[violetnotez]

Hawks x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 5300+

⤷ Warnings: mild cursing

⤷ Synopsis:  Hawks is completely head over heels when he meets the new side kick of Mirko, y/n, hero name Angel. After meeting y/n, Hawks begs Mirko to train the young hero himself, and starts a friendly relationship with her. But now Hawks wants to take it to the next level, and what better than a milkshake date to make her his.

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event!

Bingo Slot: Milkshake Date

This is my first time writing for Hawks, so hopefully its not too ooc! Also Im sorry if its kinda wordy? I feel like I just kinda went overboard!

Hawks sighed, his hands cradling  his head lazily in boredom.

Another mind numbing meeting to suffocate his precious hours.

It was hard not to be a little annoyed at these weekly hero meetings he was somehow tangled up into. He could be doing so much more with this time, like working on his own missions or even catching up on some very over do paperwork. But With the LOV and other various villain organizations on the rise, the heroes have noticed that now more than ever, citizens are desperate for some stability and reassurance from their beloved heroes. So, with the help of various hero agencies, they had devised a plan to have heroes patrolling the streets frequently, way more frequently than before to promote the image that “the heroes were in control” and “more powerful than ever before.”

What a load of crap that was.

Hawks fought the urge to roll his eyes and interrupt this pompous executive who had the nerve to preach to heroes, and the top rated ones at that. He was amused looking around, seeing how many well known heroes were still attending these obnoxious meetings-every one in the top 20  was in this room, including Endeavor and Mirko. That was typical for these heroes, since approval ratings were so important, but today was a little different. The size of the group had expanded, the seats now occupied with a few lower rank heroes, a couple sidekicks, and a few newbies that were gaining some popularity.

Hawks watched as the stiff looking executive pushed his glasses back to his nose tightly, a small cough clearing his throat.

“Now, I think it would be a wise time for all the newest joining heroes in our mission of peace to stand and say a few words,”

Oh great-now it was show and tell.

Hawks was  fighting the urge to outright humiliate this man in front of him for wasting so much of his time- it wasn't quite in his nature to keep his mouth shut. But, he had to admit that this was partially his fault: he had volunteered to be a part of this, and he had to respect the commitment he signed up for.

The man turnd to his right, his eyes trained on the Rabbit Hero herself.

“Miruko, would you like to introduce your sidekick first?” he asked, his voice monotone and serious.

Hawks instantly perked up at the man’s statement- so Miruko did bring along her sidekick? 

He had heard a little about the stir Miruko had worked up in the media when she announced she had a new sidekick. Miruko has notoriously built the image of “working alone”, so the fact she had taken on a new partner had thrown everyone in quite a loop. He personally wasn’t quite interested in digging himself too into the dramatic headlines, he was way too busy for that, but from the bits and pieces he heard, you showed promise.

Your quirk was powerful, you were great with civilians, and you were pretty efficient in battle. He was mutually intrigued by you, especially since your introduction was the one thing he found remotely interesting in this whole meeting.

Miruko grinned devilishly, her red eyes gleaming. 

“Sure thing,” she answered good naturally, her tough body standing up to introduce the person beside her. “As you all know by now, this is my new side kick-Angel,”

Oh and what a angel you were.

Hawks was completely enraptured by you, his eyes widening as he watched you stand up, your face coated in an incident look of nervousness and your pretty lips formed in a shy smile.

Man, if he knew how drop dead gorgeous you were, he would have made you his sidekick. 

He rested his head deeper into his gloved hand, a quiet whistle escaping his lips. 

And that hero suit wasn’t too bad either- your hero costume was sexy yet sleek, with a plunging white neckline and metal armor shaped like feathers that protected your shoulders. It was beautiful, elegant, and tantalizing to his eyes, his pupils hovering over each plush curve and indent of your tight body suit. 

Something caught Hawk’s eye, though, and he leaned in slightly to see what it was-something white and fluffy was twitching on both sides of you, the curve extremely familiar-until he realized: you had wings.

They weren’t anywhere as large as his, but they were much more, well, angelic than his. His wings were loud and prideful with their overpowering size and rich blood red color. They were durable, tough, and screamed for attention.

Your wings though were silent beauties, barely noticeable yet once seen took your breath away. The feathers were a delicate white like snow, and with careful inspections had a shimmer to them like stained glass in a cathedral. They were absolutely mesmerizing, and Hawks found himself staring at those wings as you began to introduce yourself.

“Hello,” he watched you timidly speak out. It was adorable to watch, your shoulders trying to show strength by being puffed out like a prideful little bird, but oh the way your smile trembled and your digits fidgeted showed just how wracked with nerves you were. “I am the Angelic hero-Angel. My quirk is that I can create a calming effect on people, as well as fly” 

Your eyes ghosted over the heroes in front of you, each face more stony and cold than the last. You finally gave a small glance at Hawks, his heart jumping in his chest. 

Your eyes were so warm and enticing, wanting to swallow him whole with those pretty irises swimming with pure sweetness. His cheek was pushed up against his hand as he sent you a mischievous wink your way, a  grin blossoming against his lips as he watched you become even more flustered than before.

His chest puffed up with pride as you sat down, knowing he had made a small impression on you. Maybe it was the dreariness of this meeting, or the fact he hadn't had any romantic endeavors in ages, but he had already gained a liking to you.

You walked out of the meeting, your head swarming and your heart pacing. Your first real hero meeting! You could practically scream with giddiness, electricity ebbing from your fingertips as you walked alongside your mentor, Miruko. 

It was a dream to be working alongside such a skilled and likeable hero as herself, and you couldn't be more thankful for the bunny hero for seeing potential in you. Being a year out of UA, it was expected for you to start interning or even becoming sidekicks in order to get a  headstart in the hero business. Even though Mirko was notorious for turning down any and all interns, you had applied to her agency and surprisingly has gotten in. 

Now you were working with one of the top dogs of the whole Hero industry, and the pressure of that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“So, what do ya think of your first hero meeting?” Miruko asked, her red eyes gleaming as she walked alongside you as the rest of the heroes crowded out of the conference room.

“It was-interesting” you spoke carefully, your tongue trying to find the best words. It was exhilarating to be around all these heroes, from up and coming to even the #1, but you had to admit it wasn't as intense as you had imagined it to be. 

“Hella boring, huh?” Miruko interjected truthfully, her voice booming and unapologetic. “Eh, don't worry, these aren't every meeting. The team ups are better- alot more interesting things go on in those ones-”

Just then, a man dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants came up to the Bunny hero, a badge connected to his belt. 

“Hey detective, what can I do for you?” she asked goodnaturedly, her slim fingers wrapping around her hips.

“Im extremely sorry to bother you on such short notice, but we have a case currently revolving around a few villains you reprimanded last week and needed a testimony from you about their quirks-”

“Sure thing!” she grinned, her red eyes traveling from the detective down to you, ,”You think youll be okay? Ill only be gone for a few minutes,”

“O-of course! Ill be fine,” your smile wavered slightly, a small gulp being emitted from your throat. 

Alone? Around all these heroes? You didn’t feel too ready for that- but you had to start somewhere. It was time to rip off that band-aid and be one with the heroes.

You began to feel your hands get clammy all ready as you watched the scene in front of you, feeling like a goldfish in a tank of sharks.

“An actual angel walking on the ground-never thought I’d see the day,” you heard a male voice next to you, the tone nonchalant and mischievous. You turned to your side, the wind getting kicked out of your chest-

No. Damn. Way.

“Your Hawks-the Winged Hero,” you breathed out in shock, 

The hero smiled at you, his wide grin playful as he gazed at you with those piercing yellow eyes

“The one and only,” he said cockily.

You werent going to lie-Hawks was one of your favorite heroes, probably your all time favorite. He was so successful for his age, being only a few years older than you. His quirk was also extremely powerful, and he was a huge inspiration for you since his quirk was so similar to yours. Also, the fact that he was known to be kind of a flirt, on top of him being incredibly handsome, made you the biggest fangirl for him.

“Gotta say babe, your wings are pretty impressive-surprise you didn't apply to my agency,” the winged hero commented, his voice extremely calm and inviting.

But wait-did he just call you ‘babe’? Oh god-your heart began to pound against your chest, your cheeks feeling warm from the small word. 

You grinned slightly at the hero, your expression small and almost shy.

“How do you know I didnt?” You quipped, trying to sound calm as the attractive hero continued to give you that playful smirk.

“Oh believe me-I would have remembered if you did,” his voice almost dropped, sounding way more huskier than before. 

Christ-he really was a flirt. You could practically feel your heart banging against your rib cage, your hands feeling clammy and your cheeks quite warm.

 He was too teasing for his own good-but it was almost endearing, like he was trying to impress you.

It reminded you of birds during mating Season, the ones who would sing the prettiest songs in order to attract a mate-and really any mate. Hawks was probably just like that-say a few pretty things, and had some fun trying to get a girl hooked under those ruby red wings.

“But I don't blame you for going with Miruko,” he admitted,” she's one hell of a hero, probably the one of the best ones around,”

You cocked your head in confusion, a short wave of shock circling your body. Hawks seemed too cocky to say a positive remark about a hero-most of the time he was preaching about how the heroes played it too safe and the hero world needed a desperate change. He seemed to group all heroes into a category and gave himself a whole one to himself, as if he was different from everyone around him. 

So yeah, it was a little strange to hear him congratulate any hero really, but it feels your chest with pride-you definitely had to have made a good decision going with Miruko if the most judgmental hero in Japan seemed to approve. But you still felt a little guilty for making him think you only cared about getting in with Miruko and not any other hero.

“Well, I was planning on applying to more agencies,” you stated, an apologetic smile playing on your lips, “yours was on the list,

The hero chuckled at your remark, not taking you quite seriously. “Oh I bet-”

“It was, I promise!” You smiled at him, your tone trying to be reassuring. 

God, why did he have to be so-well-pretty? He was looking at you strangely, as if he was drinking you in as you continued to talk. His lemon yellow eyes were glazed over with adoration, and you couldn’t t help but be flustered by the sight.

“Its just-she took me on so quickly,” you gulped out, trying desperately to calm your beating heart, “ it was kinda shocking. I honestly was so excited I just took her offer and didn't think of going to other agencies,”

“Awww, Not even mind, angel?” He cooed out, his feathers vibrating with the small sound, “It would have been fun having you around-

“I promise, I would have applied to your agency in a heartbeat if she didn't accept me,” you reassured the hero.

He simply nodded, an accepting grin playing on his face as if he finally took your word for it. His gloved hands were hidden into his pant pockets, his Stance calm and comfortable.

“So, angel,” he asked, changing the subject,   “how long have you  been interning with Mirko?”

Something about this hero calling you “angel” felt different-of course it was your hero name, and of course he would call you by that but-it felt different coming from him. It sounded playful and flirtatious as if he was calling you by a secret little pet name only reserved for you. It may because of his coy antics or his seductive smirk, but it was making you feel warm and comfy inside.

“This will be my 3rd week,” you replied, your blush getting much worse 

“Third week, huh?” he said, his voice genuinely curious, “Has she been teaching you alotta things?”

“Oh yeah she's amazing!” you exclaimed. 

Mirko was the most amazing mentor and even more. Most sidekicks or interns had the worst time with big time heroes, always left on the back burner to do the heroes paperwork or simply do tedious errands for them without ever learning a single thing. But with Miruko, this wasn’t the case at all. 

This was a blessing and a curse-since you were always out on patrol with  the hero, the media had seem to take a liking to you. Not only were you always beaten up and tired, you had to now deal with being in the limelight since you were Miruko’s new sidekick, something the media never thought they’d see.

 “I’ve been patrolling, working on small cases, even being able to actually stop a few crimes- I think that's why the press is so on me,” you added, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips.

You heard the hero chuckle slightly, his wavy blonde hair shaking as he shook his head

“Aw, you really are a little baby bird-” he cooked at you, your eyebrows cocked in confusion.

A baby bird? 

He seemed to notice your confusion, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Ah don’t worry angel, I don’t mean anything bad by calling you that,” he stated, “You're not used to this whole hero thing. But promise me, you'll get used to it-,”

“Especially when they make dumb scandals about you-”

He added on, his tone more tired. It was true with Hawks being one of the Top 10 heroes and being as young as he is, he had his fair share of conspiracies and allegations revolving around him.

“Oh, like the one about your favorite food being chicken? I thought that one was hilarious”,” you giggled.

Hawks turned to you, his cheeky grin now turn to one coated in seriousness,

““Oh no, babe,  that one is completely real,”

You whipped around, your eyes blown out wide with shock

“What? Your joking-“

“Completely serious!” He laughed, his grin wide and mischievous, “Who doesn't love fried chicken! It's the best food in my opinion-ya can't go wrong with it,”

You gave him a playful look of distaste, your noise scrunched up.

 “Really? But it’s kinda, well, weird-“

Hawks groaned, but that smile was still plastered on his face. 

“Don’t tell me your siding with those tabloid writers,” 

“This time-maybe,” you giggled, a smile you were sporting uncontainable.

“Aw, Cmon angel, I was beginning to like you!” He chuckled playfully along with you

Finally as your laughs began to die down, a thought crossed your mind, and you turned to the Wing Hero With the question playing on your tongue.

“Ya know I've always wanted to ask you something,” you said, your eyes meeting the sun yellow orbs of Hawk’s

That smile was still tugging at his lips, making him look adorably young and boyish.

“Lay it on me babe-”

You swallowed thickly, a miix of nervousness and embarrassment filling your stomach.

“How to do you use your wings? In battle-or when you fly?”

It was Hawk’s turn to look confused, his fluffy eyebrows angled softly. He seemed to understand what you meant by how self conscious you look, a hint of sympathy playing in his eyes.

“Wait-” he said slowly,  “you mean you don't know how to use your wings?”

You cringed, hating how blunt the sentence sounded. It was true, you never really got the hang of using your wings. It was embarrassing to admit it, but it was something you had to work through. If you wre going to be a high ranking Hero you were going to need to be at 100% of your potential.

“Wll I-I do, I can float but I cant fly very high up-,” you stumbled out,” nowhere near your height though. And I want to be able to carry people and well- I just don’t know how to start,”

Hawk’s nonchalant girn was again on his face, “See, little chickadee, this is why you should have applied to my agency,” he joked.

You sighed exasperatedly 

“I know,” you smiled, “you have a  good point there,”

The gloved digits of Hawk’s hand wrapped around his chin, his lips pouted slightly in thought.

“Honestly, it took me a little bit to really get the hang of it- Ive been using my wings since I was a kid- so it might be some time for you to get the hang of yours”

“Id be up for helping you with some pointers,” He turned to you, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks. That smile would be the death of you- it somehow made your head feel incredibly cloudy and your legs feel like jelly. 

“ but you gotta promise me one thing,”

You cocked your head, your eyebrows stitched in confusion

“Whats that?”

You had never seen a more shit eating grin in your life- Haws gazed up at you, his eyes glinting devilishily

“Don't fly too high up-Can't be having an angel going back up to heaven” he said, making your cheeks incredibly hot as he walked away, knowing full well he had made you too flustered to even talk.

Damn- he really was a flirt

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

“Great job, chickadee, your really getting the hang of this!” Hawks yelled out, his hands cupped over his mouth.

Your cheeks were red with pride and nervousness, your wings flapping against you as you hovered in the air. You were probably 3 stories high on Hawk’s agency building, your eyes trying to desperately to not look down. 

This was exhilarating to be so high up, but- it was terrifying!

Your heart was pacing against your chest, a heavy drum that was painfully raping against your rib age.

Don’t look down, don’t look down….damn it.

You caught a glimpse of your feet in midair, your steel plated boots almost floating over the street below as cars honked at each other and pedestrians walked along the asphalt.

The extremely hard, durable asphalt that could turn you into a human pancake in a matter of seconds.

The image of that terrible idea made your head swarm with panic- your wings flapping haphazardly as you flew backwards back to the safety of the balcony.

This was too much-this height was insane. Hawks was insane- how could he even fly comfortably at this height!

Hawks had been training you a few days a week, something you were extremely grateful for- you were know working as a sidekick with one of the top heroes and having private lesson with the #2 hero?! You honestly couldn't be more grateful-

Until he decided to make you fly by yourself on top of an extremely high building. On your 5th lesson! How crazy could this man be?

You weren't even noticing how fast your wings were flying backwards until your feet hit the firm tiles of the balcony. It took you by surprise, another pit slamming your chest as you tried to catch yourself from falling on your face, your feet shuffling backwards in an attempt to find some grounding.

So you chickened out of an exercise (something Hawks was definitely going to joke about) and now you were going to bruise your ass from falling in front of your favorite hero /crush. Just great.

“Whoa there, babe, slow down!”

You felt a pair of gloved hands grab ahold of your waist, the hands firm and tight against your ribcage. You could practically hear the laughter in Hawk’s voice, as if he found your fail incredibly amusing. 

Your cheeks were heating up, realizing how close you were to the hero- his chest was pressed up against your back, and you could feel his chin grazing against your windswept hair.

“So,” he asked, his voice taking on a more husky tone, “how’d it feel when you fell from heaven?”

God, that voice- hearing him flirt so close to your ear made his words sound way too intimate, making your back tingle and your cheeks blaze red.

An exasperated groan slipped from your lips, your body pushing away from Hawk’s as he began to chuckle at your flusteredness.

“You were just dying to say that, huh?”

“What, you can't blame a guy!” he said between laughs, “you did set me up for it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your back turning away from him in an attempt to hide your obvious blush.

“You're still a little scared to fly high, huh?” Hawks tone was calm and nonchalant, making you feel grateful that he wasn't too mad at you for freaking out so suddenly.

You tucked a piece of hair self consciously behind your ear. It was so frustrating to you- you were gifted with these wonderful wings, yet you could barely use them “Yeah, a little,” you sighed, “its just-I don't know how to get over it, and it feel like I'm not improving fast enough-”

Hawks sent you a sympathetic smirk, his lemon yellow eyes gleaming in the golden rays of sunset. 

“Ah dont put too much pressure on yourself Angel, you'll get it eventually!”

“And besides,” he added, “you have been getting better- before we started you could barely flap your wings...now look at you! You flew over a whole street for almost 5 minutes!”

His smile was beaming, his tone so supportive and kind. Times like this you almost wished you had chosen to apply to be Hawk’s sidekick- he was so carefree and positive about everything. he somehow made every situation feel like a milestone, no matter how little you improved, and it made you feel a little better about your progress.

You gave him a meek smile, the cruddy feeling of failure still sinking in your chest.

“Aw, don't give me that sad face, angel,” he cooed, “you're gonna be just fine- you'll see,”

Still- you couldn't seem to get out of your saddened daze, even with his overwhelming positivity. 

Hawks seemed to notice, the usually chatty man suddenly quiet. It was strange to see him like that,as he rubbed his pointer finger against his stubbled chin, deep in thought.

“Ya know, I think I know just what you need,” he finally said, his tone warm like honey, “you need a small break- something to take your mind off of all this.”

“There’s a little diner on the West side of town- it's got the best comfort food you've ever tasted, and you can really taste the flavor in their meals,” Hawk sent you a glimmering smile, one that could stop your heart in a matter of seconds.

 “What do ya say, angel, down for some grub? It'll be my treat, promise.”

Free food and you get to spend time with your mentor/crush? You sighed, a smile creeping onto your lips. 

“Sure, why not,”

  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

And thats how you ended up here, in a little whole in the wall diner near Hawk’s apartment.

The restaurant was decorated to look relatively old, 1950’s memorabilia plastered on the walls and even a jukebox playing dance music from the era playing softly in the background.

The place was quite adorable in your opinions, and you really couldnt understand how Hawks had even found the place.

Until you realized- they had the best fried chicken you ever eaten in your whole life

Hawks wasnt lying when he said the food was good-it was incredible, the flavors and textures so warm and crisp as they dissolved on your tongue. 

You two had gobbled up the meal, hungry from a days worth of training. The milkshakes Hawks had ordered for you two after was just was as amazing as the food itself, the creamy dessert cooling against your throat and making your whole body tingle with joy

It also helped that Hawks was the best partner to eat, with his bizarre stories and crazy antics having you giggling between bites, sometimes making you forget to eat as you got sucked in to his crazy retellings.

You two had finally finished, your stomachs full and genuine smiles gracing your cheeks.

You sighed in content, a smile gracing your lips 

“The food was amazing Hawks, thank you-”

You had honestly never seen Hawks looks so domestic- he was sporting a simple white tee and dark jeans, a gold watch adorning his wrist. You guessed the hero had to always wear something somewhat flashy but still- it was strange to see him so casual. 

But you werent complaining- it made him more approachable and lovable in a way, making your dinner feel less like a meal between colleagues but between close friends.

You watched Hawks wave his hand, stopping your sentence in its tracks.

“Call me Keigo,” he interrupted, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks, “since I took you out to dinner, I think its only right for you to call me by my actual name,”

You gulped, your eyes wide with shock-the Hawks gave you permission to call him by his real name?

The fangrl in you wanted to scream and to jump up and down like an excited 12 year old. Thankfully, the practical side of you pushed those urges deep down, only the shock of his sentence riddling throughout your body

“Right uh- Keigo,” you gulped out, “-I definitely owe you one for showing me this place,”

“Your welcome angel, its my pleasure,”

You smiled softly, your lips pursed slightly from nervousness.

“Ya know,” you said, your tone soft and open. “you dont have to call me by my hero name either if you dont want to,” 

If he was being so welcoming with you, shouldn't you do the same? He had taken you to dinner after all, and even paid for you, even after you had insisted he didnt have to. Hawks-Keigo- was being so kind to you, you had to at least do something in return. 

“- you can call me by my real name,”

A hum rumbled from Hawk’s chest, his hand stroking his stubble chin.

“Thats true but the thing is- I like calling you angel”

He sent you a flirtatious smirk from across the table, making your heart stop beating in its tracks. Keigo was a piece of work to understand- one minute he was being supportive like a mentor would be to their student, and the next he was flirting with you like he was trying to pick up a girl at a bar. Was this really how he acted with everyone? Or just-you?

You cocked your head in confusion, your cheeks hot from his sentence.

“Why?”

He grinned, his sultry yellow eyes trained on yours.

“Its like Im calling you by a pet name, like ‘babe’ or ‘dove’,” he explained, taking a pause to place his words correctly,” but it's more...personal.”

That shit eating grin was evident on his face again, making him look boyish as he leaned in towards you.

“its also kinda cute when you get all flustered when I say it,”

Well-crap.

“I-I dont get flustered,” you stuttered, making your lie blatantly obvious.

The man chuckled, obviously loving every second of this.

“Then why are you blushing angel?” he taunted sweetly,

 “Don't think for a second I didn’t notice your little crush on me,”

Oh no.

This wasnt good.

God, you knew you blushed alot but- how dumb of you to not assume he knew you liked him! You wanted to crawl in a hole, to just dissolve into the ground and disappear.

“I dont have a crush on you- your just my mentor, your just helping me-” you denied his accusation, your voice desperate to prove it to him and yourself.

You didnt have feeling for this Hero, you couldnt, he was just someone who helped you, you shouldnt like him like this-

“Aww lets not lie to ourselves little dove, you dont have to be so defensive,” he was smiling at you so wide, as if he was being reassuring. But something was different about this smile, and the way he looked at you- it was so tender and almost-nervous?

“Why do you think I took you to this place? It wasnt just to get your mind off of training you know,”

You stared at him in complete confusion.

That was why he had taken you here right? To cheer you up-but then again, Keigo didn't have to do this. He could have just patted you on the back and said “Good job.” He didn't have to take you to his favorite restaurant, buy you a meal, and even dessert, and tell you all his most interesting and sometimes embarrassing stories. He didn't have to lend you his jacket that you were wearing right now after you said you were cold, or promise to drive you home once it was got dark. He didn't have to do any of these things-but he did.

“Wait- This-this is a date, isnt it?” you stated bluntly, the revelation hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Keigo smiled timidly at you, the first time you had ever seen him look so nervous

“Only if you want it to be,” he chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant.

He sighed, clearly riddled with nerves as  his eyes staring down at his watch, trying to find the best words

“I-I know this is kinda sudden,” he finally said, “ and I should have told you straight before taking you here, but- I like you. Your fun ,and snarky, and so goddamn beautiful it makes my head spin. You make me smile so much, and I-I want to be with you.”

Hawks looked up at you, those bright hazel eyes staring at you with such love it took your breath away. You felt your whole body feel warmth, like honey was now flooding your veins. You honestly never imagined the hero to ever have feelings for you, but with this confession hanging in the air, you couldn’t feel happier.

“What do ya say, angel,” he asked, his hand stretching across the table and encasing yours, “ wanna give this a go?” 

You stared down at that hand, seeing his digits wrap so effortlessly around yours. It felt natural, yet exhilarating , a low, pleasant buzz forming from the small touch. It just felt-right.

“Sure,” you smiled, your fingers now curling around his, “ lets do it,”

Taggings (if you want to be added to the tag list, just shoot me an ask! Im also trying to work on an official tag list post, so you might see that soon! ) 

@weebartistinc @orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @bakarinnie

#bnha #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #bnha hawks x reader #mha hawks x reader #keigo x reader #bnha keigo x reader #mha keigo x reader #hawks fluff #hawks x reader fluff #bnha hawks x reader fluff #mha hawks x reader fluff #keigo x reader fluff #bnha keigo x reader fluff #mha keigo x reader fluff #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x reader fluff #bnha keigo takami x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #bnha hawks x you #mha hawks x you #bnha hawks x y/n #mha hawks x y/n

[writingpuddle]

The other night best friend and I (yes, that best friend) were riffing on trans Neil headcanons over the phone, but a realistic trans treatment of aftg gets dark real fast, so without further ado:

~The Mafia May Be Sexist (But It’s Not Transphobic!) AU ~

(tmmbsbintau, if you will)

Does this premise make sense? No, but if Nora can write about made up mafia sports, I can write a nonsense AU where transphobia doesn’t exist okay this is my party and ill be self-indulgent if i want to

We open with baby Neil, who was named after his maternal grandmother or smthg idk

Now lets say Neil is one of those “I always knew I was trans” kids

So even at a fairly young age he was like, nope this is wrong

For the most part his dad basically ignores him (what use is a girl to me???) but if he makes the mistake of getting in the way it’s the usual shit with knives and hot irons and basically Neil’s bog-standard Traumatic Childhood

His mom signs him up to play Exy to get him out of the house, and he loves it, because of course he does

Now tiny Neil may be terrified of his father

But remember transphobia isn’t real

So he when he’s about ten years old he tells his parents over dinner

His mom just puts her fork down and says that’s alright

But Nathan

Nathan

Nathan’s eyes start to glow

He has a son? Not a useless daughter?

He’s practically levitating with glee

And Neil, poor Neil, who has never had any positive reinforcement—from either parent, Mary, you’re not innocent in this—he soaks it up

Nathan puts both hands on his son’s—his son’s!—shoulders and dubs him Nathaniel

His son, his heir, his legacy

Mary takes one look at the possessive look in her husband’s eyes and thinks oh hell no

For the next few days Nathan absolutely showers Nathaniel with affection

He takes him to the hairdresser and buys him a whole new wardrobe, neglecting his mafia duties in order to dote upon his new son

It is possibly the happiest week of Nathaniel’s life

And then he wakes up in the night with his mother’s hand on his mouth and is given less than a minute to pack his things

Now he’s grown up in a criminal household; the notion of making a run for it isn’t exactly foreign to him

But it’s not until they’re in the car that Nathaniel realizes that his father is nowhere to be seen

Where’s dad? He asks

Shut up, his mother hisses, and slams the car into gear

From then on, he is never Nathaniel

His mother is 100% on board with his transition, but…not really anything beyond that

After all, people will be looking for a woman and a trans boy, which means Mary’s investment in Neil’s gender pretty much starts and ends with him passing as cis

She gets him all the medical treatments he needs (on the black market, since they’re on the run)—puberty blockers when he’s younger, testosterone when he’s older

But he’s never allowed to acknowledge being trans whatsoever

Not to his classmates, not to his teachers

He never gets the chance to have a queer community, or explore the nuances of his gender, because the only presentation they can afford for him to have is Masculine Cis Boy. The restriction is stifling. It’s suffocating.

Neil hates her for it

His life was, so briefly, perfect

He had his father’s love and approval for a day, a week, and he is both old enough to remember his father’s cruelty and young enough to believe that it could end

Nathan is incandescent

When he realizes what Mary has done he goes to the Moriyamas in a storm of fury

She stole my SON! He bellows

Now the Moriyama’s didn’t particularly care about Neil back when they thought he was a girl

Girls in the mafia are basically just for child-rearing, so he wasn’t a threat

So once they figure out what Nathan is talking about (this takes a sec, owing to Nathan having not previously gotten around to telling them about Nathaniel’s revelation), their first thought is that look, we might do the nepotism thing here in our family, but underlings don’t get to do the nepotism thing. Sorry, them’s the breaks

Obviously, Mary has to die—nobody’s disputing that, a woman who robbed her husband and stole his son? Only death will right that wrong—but Kengo tells Nathan that he’ll help find Nathaniel on the condition that he’s given to the Ravens upon capture

Nathan is utterly confident that his son—his son!—will perform admirably. He accepts the deal without a second thought

So they’re on the run for years and years, and Neil’s resentment towards his mother festers, but he never acts out too much, and he doesn’t contact his father

He almost does a couple times, but then he presses his hand to the iron scar on his shoulder and he can’t quite make himself go through with it

He’s sixteen when Nathan catches up with them in Seattle

There’s a shootout and Mary and Neil almost get away

But

Nathan arrives

Nathaniel! He shouts. My boy!

And Neil lurches to a stop

There is his father, walking towards him, his eyes still shining with the same fierce love and pride from when he was ten

Nathaniel, his father says. Hasn’t this gone on long enough?

Come home.

Mary is trying to drag Neil away, but he’s too fixated on his father

Can I? Neil asks. Can I really?

Of course, Nathan says. Everything is forgiven. I’ve even secured you a place on the Ravens. Didn’t you always love Exy? Come home with me, Nathaniel

Neil can barely believe it. His father is offering him everything he ever wanted. His mother has been keeping him from this, his whole life?

Why would they run?

And through this whole exchange Nathan has been getting closer, and Mary is pulling Neil back, and now he’s close enough to touch and the sound she makes is like something physical tears when she finally releases Neil and tries to flee

She isn’t fast enough

Nathan’s grin is as wide as the sun when his cleaver bites into Mary’s waist

Blood pours out

Neil screams

Mary clutches her side, staggering away, but it’s obvious she won’t make it far

Dad, no, Neil says. Don’t—

Shh, his father says. Don’t be afraid. She kept us apart all these years. She deserves to die.

And Neil—

Neil has hated his mother for most of his life

But he looks at the woman who has struggled so long to protect him—who has failed as often as she succeeded, but who fought anyway, everyday—and the man whose eyes are bright with glee at her pain

And he makes a choice

He only has a split second to see the betrayal in his father’s eyes before the pipe in his hand slams into his head and he pitches forward, unconscious

Neil does not wait to see if he survives

He grabs his mother and they run, her arm locked on his shoulder and her palm pressed to the wound on her side

Neil puts her in the passenger seat and jumps in, throwing the car in gear

You need a hospital, he says, frantic

No, she hisses, pinning a towel to her side. No hospitals

Guilt floods through him as he looks at her pale face

Sticky red handprints smear on everything she touches

I’m sorry, mom, he says, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—

Enough, she says. Drive

He drives

He drives, and drives, and he follows her instructions, and later he wouldn’t have been able to say if he actually thought she would survive; he believed it, because he had to, because he had never been without her; he knew better, because gut wounds are slow, but they are inexorable

He parks on the beach and there are tears pushing at his eyelids but he chokes them down

I’m sorry, he said, I never should have believed him. I’m sorry—

You never would have been enough for him, she says, and Neil flinches

Her hand finds his chin and she yanks him down to meet her eyes, her gaze fierce.

He never loved you, she says. He would have made you in his image, and when you failed he would have torn you apart. I would not—I would not watch him try to make my son a monster. Don’t—don’t waste it

Mom, what are you saying—

Promise me, she says

Promise you won’t go back to him

She is dying

Neil can’t refuse

He promises

She releases his face and her red fingerprints on his face burn like brands. He can feel them hours after the tears wash the blood away.

Her last few breaths are jagged as broken stones before she rattles to a stop, and Neil is alone

He burns her body and staggers out onto the road and he keeps moving, he keeps moving, because he knows if he stops he’ll shatter

His hesitation has cost him his mother’s life

But his action costs him his fathers love

In one blow, Neil broke the golden image Nathan had of his perfect son, and now all Nathan wants is to destroy him

He finds his way to Millport almost on instinct alone

He finds one of Mary’s contacts who can supply him with the hormones he needs to continue passing and squats in an empty house and speaks to none of his classmates

When the Exy team tryouts are announced, he goes, intending to only watch from a distance

Perhaps it is inevitable he’s sucked in

There is so little light in his life

Can he be forgiven for wanting one little spark?

The Foxes come for him in May, and Kevin doesn’t recognize him, because how would he? Even if they met as kids, Kevin never saw Neil post-transition

Wymack ends up telling him something about Kevin’s past and the truth about the Ravens, and Neil pales a little bit, remembering how his father had said he’d gotten Neil a place on their line-up and finally understanding why

And sometimes he looks at Kevin with blinding jealousy for the life Neil didn’t get to have, and sometimes he sees him nearly comatose with fear and drinking vodka like it’s water, and his stomach hurts thinking how cheerfully his father would have consigned him to the same fate

So canon proceeds and Neil still bitches Riko out on live TV, and Riko still manages to acquire Neil’s fingerprints

And would you believe that? The Foxes mouthy new rookie is [deadname], Nathan Wesninski’s brat?

Well, well, well

At the banquet Riko pokes and prods until Neil finally snaps, and as Dan drags the team away from the wreckage Jean grabs Neil’s arm and says, low and fast in French, You’ll meet with us later

Why the fuck would I do that? Neil demands

Because otherwise everyone will find out that the Butcher is your father

Neil can’t hide his flinch and Kevin’s eyes go wide

They flee the scene, but before they even reach Coach, Kevin is already rounding on Neil

Is it true? He croaks

Not now, Neil says

But Kevin reads confirmation in Neil’s deflection

I didn’t know [deadname] had a brother, he says

Now here is the thing

Names are obviously a touchy subject with a lot of trans people, and certainly with Neil in particular

But with everything that just happened, Neil is a bit preoccupied, and it’s been a long time since he’s associated himself with that name

Since before he stopped using it, truthfully

And so his response is out of his mouth before he can even think twice

“Who?”

Kevin nods seriously, because he is wise to the ways of mafia bosses, and it’s not exactly shocking that Nathan Wesninski had a mistress and a secret second child, especially considering his first child had been a girl

It’s several moments before Neil puts two and two together and realizes that he has inadvertently slipped through a perfect loophole

He’s failed his mother so many times, but at least this secret is still safe, and he clings to that

Neil’s gender doesn’t really affect his interpersonal relationships with the Foxes—he’s already changing out separately, so this isn’t even a whole other thing

It’s harder to hide his testosterone when he’s living in shared dorms, but he has everything in the safe and figures out the safest schedule to open it up when he’s sure Matt will be in class

Andrew finds out when they start hooking up

But remember transphobia isn’t real so it’s sort of more like Andrew goes to undo his pants and is like wait your dick is removeable? Okay.

And then he just gets on with it

So Binghamton and Baltimore happen as canon, and if Neil had ever harboured hopes that his father would forgive him and love him again, they’re broken for good when his father stalks in and sees him shivering and just grins

It is the smile of someone who has torn someone off a pedestal and is going to enjoy reducing them to dust

Nevermind that Nathan had been the one to put him on that pedestal in the first place

Stuart deus-ex-machinas us out of the maws of death and we end up back in that classic Baltimore scene with the Foxes, and they still claim him, and they still take him home

He tells them all about his mafia father and life on the run, and it doesn’t really click until later that he forgot to mention the trans thing

Not like he, you know, has to tell them, and being trans is hardly an issue in Exy since it’s co-ed, but it would probably be nice to see a real doctor instead of keep buying his hormones illegally

And moreover, he wants the Foxes to know him

So they hit the cabin in the mountains and everyone knows Neil doesn’t drink, but when Andrew pours him a shot, he takes it

Ooh, Nicky says, Is Neil about to start spilling his secrets?

Allison snorts. What secrets does he have left?

Uh, Neil says

Wait, Allison says. There’s more secrets????

Yeah, he says. Um, I’m trans

There’s a pause

Well, that’s no good, Allison said. We didn’t have a bet going on that

Everyone laughs, and Neil smiles, and he looks at the sunset and remembers his mother, and he remembers a life filled with hiding, and secrets, and loneliness

Bats swoop in the twilight beyond the cabin, and he turns towards the warmth and light inside, and he does not look back

#self indulgent trans au is self indulgent #my writing #aftg #andreil #trans neil #trans headcanons #this is actually a bit angsty be warned #i was so high on the transphobia doesnt exist part #that i forgot neils whole life is a goddamn tragedy for a seconde #tmmbsbintau

[hollywoodsfavoritewhorexx]

could you do a fluff where it’s just a rainy day inside and pete comforts the reader on their period? it’s more than okay if you don’t wanna do this story! i hope you have a fantastic day/night 💖

omg yes i love it (i feel like it doesn't have much... content... but i guess thats what fluff is lol, also i wrote this in one take at 3am)

...

You lay in bed with the curtains pulled as shut as they could get to keep any light out, just staring at the ceiling. You heard Pete yelling your name from the kitchen. You didn’t respond cause it was just too much work.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Then his head peeked in. “Babe?”

“NO. go away.” You groaned turning on your stomach burring your face in the pillow.

“You gotta get up. Its 11 O’clock.” He went to open the blinds.

“NO stop. I want the dark.”

“Jesus whats wrong with you” He laughed.

“Everything is wrong. Its raining. I woke up and my phone is dead. I feel like someone stabbed my head. I’m having the worst period ever. The worst cramps ever. I can’t find my heating pad. AND we are all out of Advil.” You complained.

He gave you a small smile and crawled beside you in bed. “Damn, thats pretty rough.” He paused for a minute and stood up. “okay ill be back in 30 minutes.”

“what no, stay with me and cuddle pleeeease.” You whined. He leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“You don’t even know why I’m leaving, but i promise i'll be right back and then i'll stay in bed all day with you”

You nodded and he left.

Almost an hour went by and he finally came back. You gave him an unimpressed look.

“Okay I’m sorry but, i had to go to like 4 different places.”

He set down a couple of bags down at the foot of the bed.

You sat up intreaged by what he got.

“Okay so first we have the boring stuff. Advil. Important but boring. Next,” He reached into the bag again. “We have the good stuff, food. Dark chocolate, berry skittles, and cookie dough ice cream cause its your favourite.” You smiled at him.

“My god your the best.” You told him.

“Oh just wait baby I’m not done. We also got raspberry tea cause i read it helped with cramps, and this peppermint oil roll on thing cause it helps with headaches. AND this heating pad with cats on it cause like, thats fucking adorable, and fuzzy socks cause why not.”

You smiled real big. “You are literally the best boyfriend any girl could have. Like actually, you did research. i love you so much. come here.” You gestured towards yourself to make him come back to the bed. He came over and cuddled right into your side. You put your head on his chest and hugged him. You guys put on a movie and watched for a while. Pete started kissing down your neck and burried his face in it. You played with his hair and everything just seemed to be a bit better now.

#pete davidson #pete davidson fanifc #pete davidson fluff

[wizkiddx]

worst case scenario part 3

umm so, never ever intended it to be this long but here we are. again this is v dark so please please read the warning!! also [and obvs] this is very medically inaccurate and just a work of my head aha

[part 1] [part 2]

warning: mentions of death / hospital / mentions of childhood abandonment too- please don't read if this could affect you <3

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His heart was thundering in his chest, so much so it drowned out all other sounds making all the doctors words fade into the background. Conciously, he really was trying to listen to what the doctor was saying; consciously he knew she was trying to prepare him to see Y/n; consciously he knew she knew he wasn’t okay. But really? It didn’t matter, and as they drew closer to his fiancé Tom felt an urgent sense of relief purely know she was there. She was there and she wasn’t dead…yet. 

Only two people were allowed to go up, just because the nature of the ward - everything was meticulously controlled, including the comings and goings of visitors. If you’ve never been in an ICU it’s a pretty hard environment to describe. Really, it’s just another hospital ward, with capacity of about 20 beds. Each bed has much more equipment surrounding that the average and a nurse is stationed per patient, monitoring every possible variable that the machienes are measuring, so any trend (either positive or negative) can be identified at the earliest point. Though in everyones head, it seems as though ICU is a common place ending up for some unfortunate sod when something bad happens, it’s actually really rare for someone to be so ill and dependant on medicine to maintain normal body functioning. Only the most severe trauma, infection of the most dangerous microorganism, surgery of such high stakes normally make an appearance on the ward. And ,on average, between 8-20% patients that are admitted to an ICU never make it out. 

And those grim figures were unignorable to anyone. As soon as you walk through the doors, the atmosphere is intense and ineffable. It’s not spoken, but is so incredibly morbid it makes anyone shiver. 

Dom felt this, squeezing his sons shoulder as he followed Tom and the doctor, just a pace or so behind them. Having offered to go with Tom, whilst Harrison took Nikki to see the baby, Dom was now feeling just as clueless as his son did. Except he was actually listening to what the doctor was trying to warn them about and it scared him. The three, made it to the door and with a swipe of her ID card the doctor admitted the Holland men in. Gratefully, none of the staff took any notice of who was walking in, they were much too busy for that - Dom was incredibly relieved, had someone recognised Tom when he was in this state, god knows what would’ve happened.

The doctors pace was with purpose, perhaps so that the two couldn’t spend too long ogling the other patients in the beds - who all looked almost unhuman with the amount of tubes and wires coming out and into them. But then, she slowed up, halting infront of a bay about 5 or 6 down the ward. Spinning on her heel and with a subtle nod to momentarily release the nurse from her post at Y/n’s bedside, to give them a bit of privacy, she looked at the two men. 

“You can touch her, just be gentle with the wires.”

Shellshocked and terrified, Tom was frozen those 2 metres away from the bed barely able to see her face over all the equipment. Yet undoubtedly, it was his finance’s delicate visage lying on the white pillow, with a thick white mouthpiece and tube covering her mouth and stuffed into her nose. Not able to move, both Dom and Dr Goodwell sensitively waited - it was an adjustment to say the least, seeing someone you knew so well look so different. With quiet tears starting to roll down his eyes, Tom eventually started to inch toward the bedside, taking his time to try and absorb everything of this frankly ridiculous situation. He couldn’t get over how, even considering it all, above her nose it just looked like Y/n. Like she was asleep in their bed, eyes closed as if she had once again  fallen asleep infront of a random Netflix movie Tom had bugged her enough to watch in bed. And it was, ever so slightly comforting. That was still her, that was still the love of his life lying there. And she was still alive - which given the last few hours, was enough. 

Reaching the bedside, Tom naturally reached out and stroked the top of her head delicately, pulling into place a few rogue strands that seemed to have a mind of their own - she had always hated when her hair got frizzy. The picture had Tom’s mind casting back to their first holiday, a serene if quick few days in Fiji-  though Y/n didnt know this , that holiday had been one of the most important times in their relationship for Tom. Until then, given the nature of his job, the couple had only ever managed brief periods together. They spent time together as and when they could in between Tom’s busy schedule but it was never as long as they’d like. Somehow though, he’d managed to squeeze a few days away to surprise Y/n with the trip. 

It was everything he’d ever hoped it would be and more. In fact it was then Tom was oh so sure he would be spending the rest of his life with her. This thought crossed his mind on the last morning, when he had for once woken up before Y/n - her head mere cms away from his on the pillow. Just like now, her hair had been all over the place and her sparkling green eyes locked shut. Contrastingly though, in Fiji the sight had made him smile softly; now it just made him cry again. 

“Would you like a minute alone Mr Holland? We will just wait outside?” Not even turning round to properly respond to the doctor, Tom just nodded violently, not taking his eyes off his fiancé - waiting till he heard his Dad and the doctor leave the bay; then the curtains be completely drawn to a close, before he shakily cleared his throat to whisper.

“Hey darling… you um-you’ve scared me shitless today… and… and I’m supposed to be the dramatic one in the relationship.” Chuckling wetly, Tom clasped his other hand in Y/n’s - still mindful of the IV port coming out of the top of her wrist. Not that he was expecting any sort of response, yet the lack of her squeezing his hand back still had his heart sink. “Look I…I love you so bloody much and I really need you to get better okay? You’ve never listened to me before but I really am begging you to now, I just.” Swallowing thickly, he shut his eyes momentarily and delicately rested his forehead on hers - his touch feather light. Just needing to feel her. “I just really need you and I really love you., okay?” 

Unsurprisingly he didn’t get a response. The rhetorical question hung in the air alone, safe the mechanical whir of the ventilator and various chimes of the machines and monitor, till his Dad came in. Grasping and squeezing his shoulder lightly, Dom provided the stimulus for his son to unfold from over the bed, standing upright, as both men just took in the sight of Y/n lying there for a minute or two. 

“I need her Dad. I-I-“

“I know Tom.” Speaking so quietly it was barely audible, Dom’s eventual agreement at what Tom was saying was in a way a relief. Haz and his mum had both either been saying or implying that they would be okay no matter what - which came from a good place but was so infuriating. Because god forbid, if this situation got worse Tom knew it wouldn’t be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. So his Dad’s simple acknowledgment meant a lot, causing Tom to turn round and embrace his slightly shorter father. 

Dr Goodwell silently watched the exchange for a short while and once the men eventually pulled away she stepped forward to give some more information. She went through what all the biggest and scary looking tubes and wires were doing for Y/n, before explaining the next steps. 

“Now as I said before we are sedating her at the moment, while we wait and see if she gets any complications from the surgery that are better treated while she is asleep. By this afternoon we will have a clearer idea and by that point we may choose to withdraw that sedation. It’s important that you are aware though that she might not wakeup immediately. Sometimes some people that have suffered similarly to your fiancé will be unconscious for a while in what I’d presume you’ve heard of as a ‘coma’. Now it’s not as dramatic as you see on TV shows, it’s just Ms Y/l/n’s brain giving her body a chance to recover. It’s often a longer process, which I know is something you don’t want to hear, but I have to be honest.” The doctor was stern but in a softer and from-a-caring-place. “These patients are suggested to possibly recover quicker if they have a steady support network behind them, which it seems like she does. That means that you need to look after yourself so you can help her sir, especially in what could be a long process. It’s not going to be helpful for Yn if you’re killing yourself trying to be here all the time… It seems like Y/n already has quite a big group of you here for her, so please remember you’ve got all of her care team here and everyone else to help you too….Does that make sense sir?”

“Tom” His Dad, in a gentle but firm warning tone, urged Tom to speak and to listen. Properly listen. 

“Yeh… I-yeh It’s just all a lot right now.”

“Of course… and we promise that if anything changes with her condition, you will be phoned straight away. You are welcome to stay as long as you want - the only rules are two at a time, no flowers, sign in and out and then sanitise your hands pretty excessively. If you need anything, Ms Y/l/n’s nurse will be your first port of call.”

“Thanks for everything” Dom nodded in a gracious manner, which the doctor seemed to massively appreciate - apparently, for the job they do not receiving a hell of a lot of thanks. 

“I’ll pop back in a little bit.”

And for a couple of hours everything everything felt like a bit of an anticlimax, nothing happened, not a lot changed. Just Tom and Dom sat next to Y/n’s bed in silence; Harrison and Nikki downstairs with the baby, till Dom got a phone call from Nikki asking them to meet at the neonatal unit  - which was limited by visitor numbers unlike the ICU. Thinking it’d be simple, the elder man gained Tom’s attention with a call of his name, explaining they should go down to meet up. 

“I’m not going down there.”

“Son, I know you’re worried by Y/n isnt going anywhere right now. The doctors said they’d call you if anything happens.”

“It’s not-“ Tom stopped himself, biting his tongue and looking away from his Dad. “I just don’t want to go down there.” Slowly, Dom was more and more realising Tom’s thought process and honestly… it scared him. In the hopes this was just a big misunderstanding he offered a different option - hoping Tom would equally refuse that. Dom suggested going down to the cafe instead, which most unfortunately Tom agreed to. It wasn’t leaving Y/n that was the issue, it was being near the baby. 

Tom’s daughter. Unnamed and apparently abondoned by both parents. 

Anyhow, Dom resigned to playing into Tom’s choice, perhaps Nikki and Harrison would be able to swing him round, to see sense. It still took Tom getting the nurse to triple check they had his correct number on record , just in case, before Dom could tear him away from the bed. Fortunately the pair found a quiet and secluded corner table, where Tom was still yet to be recognised, while Nikki and Haz found them too. 

What followed was Tom answering all his mum and Harrison’s questions about Y/n’s condition, in a blunt and emotionless manner - without Tom returning fire by asking any questions at all about his beautiful little baby girl. Eventually Nikki braved it, someone had to bring it up. 

“Well it sounds like littles going to change for a while… maybe you should head home for a bit? You’ve been up half the night and you look shattered love. You don’t have to go back to yours… you could stay in your old room for a bit?” Tom being by himself at the moment sounded like the most incredibly stupid idea ever, Nikki was offering it as a choice - when in reality there was only one option.

“Maybe later this evening I will? Just don’t want to leave her alone yet.”

“It’s already 7 love, you’ve not eaten all day, you got to look after yourself too.” Harrison and Dom sat awkwardly while Nikki tried to delicately encourage Tom into what was the only sensible plan, watching him nurse the small hot choclate in both his palms. Time really had lost all meaning at this point, for him it felt both years since he’d first arrived with Y/n and at the same time barely 10 minutes ago. It felt weird. 

“We can take shifts? If-if you want someone with her I mean… I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if it means you head back to your parents.” Harrison really truly didnt mind, in fact he sort of wanted to. He wanted to see Y/n’s face definitely alive, wanted to feel reassured by the monitors. Shockingly, Tom slowly nodded his head, surprising everyone with his lack of argument. None of them could work out whether it was a good thing him not putting up much arguement ; either he was heeding everyones advice of taking care of himself - or he had just given up. Harrison, as much as he didn’t want to, was favouring the latter. 

“Okay” Nikki declared optimistically “So maybe you and Harrison go up so you can say good night to Y/n, then we can all go and pick up the baby?” She opened the plan to the floor, allowing for input but got nothing - except maybe Tom’s jaw unconsciously tensing uncomfortable at the latter part of her statement. Dom noticed. 

Not one noticed but knew what it meant. His son blamed his granddaughter. His son, right now in that moment, hated the unnamed and totally helpless baby girl. 

part 4?

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tomholland #tom holland angst

[ackerslut]

I hear you like prompts? Well I am well known for. The List. *unrolls scroll* sick fic, jealousy, fighting suitors, hostage situation, hypothermia, use of safe word, spa day, ruddiger v Hugo

AO3

It’s midday by the time Hugo finally deems his companions worthy of his company.

They’ve been staying at a small estate in Galcrest, with some friends of Nuru’s family who were kind enough to put them up for the weekend.

The last few trials have been grueling--if Varian’s being completely honest--what with the cave of mirrors and the hall of memories haunting Nuru’s nights and Yong’s smiles and Varian’s everything. So a break in what their gang was affectionately nicknaming “the air kingdom” seemed in order.

The first few days go by fine--Nuru drags Hugo out to the marketplace, talking shop about swords and armory to her heart's content, while Varian and Yong scour the countryside and set off fireworks in the clear skies.

It’s exactly what their group needs to get back on track--a little rest and a lot of free time to relax and get to know one another better.

Then Hugo shows up for breakfast one morning and all of Varians’ optimism flies out the window.

“Whoa, are you sick?” Yong says, popping his head out of the pantry. “You look terrible.”

Hugo sends him an irritated glance. “No,” he says and then immediately sneezes. “I’m not sick,” he says, peevishly when they all continue staring at him in silence. His voice sounds like he’s been gargling rocks.

Nuru places a hand on his flushed forehead that he immediately swats off. “You’re burning up,” she says with a frown. “Did you leave your window open last night?”

“More likely that he got it from town,” Varian mutters. He seems to remember a kindly merchant lamenting about his daughter coming down with a spring cold. Dammit Hugo.

“I’m going to heat up some soup,” Yong says decisively, already making a bee-line for the cupboards.

“I don’t need soup.” Hugo literally cannot sound any more like a sulky pre-teen right now. “What I need is for you all to stop ganging up on me.”

“What you need is a doctor,” Nuru mutters.

Hugo turns his scowl on her.

“How about this,” Varian says, once again playing diplomat between his two best friends, “Hugo eats the soup, and Nuru doesn’t make him see a doctor.

Hugo and Nuru continue to eye each other for a moment before Hugo mutters out an annoyed “fine.”

Varian has a feeling that today is going to be an exercise in not dumping his best friends.

____

About three hours into the “Hugo is pretending that he’s not sick” fiasco, Nuru has decided she’s had enough.

“I’m taking Yong to town,” she says, wrapping a scarf around the younger boy. “If the idiot won’t see a doctor, than I’m at least going to get him some medicine.”

Varian, who was the person who had to deal with Hugo throwing up in the bathroom half the afternoon, privately agrees.

“Is there anything I should do?” he asks, not exactly sure what to do with sick people. His dad never got sick and Rapunzel had about a million physicians taking care of her whenever she contracted some illness or another.

“Try and keep him in bed. I also left some tea leaves in the kitchen, if he feels up to drinking anything.” Nuru adds, halfway out the door. “I know you want to kill him most of the time, but it would be most inconvenient to hide his body.”

Varian rolls his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he says, dryly.

He doesn’t actually plan to antagonize Hugo--let alone kill him. Despite the fact that the blond still manages to annoy him on a daily basis, he’s also kinda friends with the guy now.

They’ve fallen into an easy companionship with mutual banter and annoyed antics that usually have their friends up in arms, but it works for them.

Besides, the guy just looked far too pathetic, dry heaving in the sink this morning, to give him a hard time.

A few minutes after Nuru and Yong leave, Varian makes his way to the room Hugo is staying in. At first glance, the place appears empty--bed unmade, small sitting area absent of life--but after a quick scan of the large room, Varian finds him.

Hugo sits on the window seat. His legs are drawn up under him and his head rests against the wall. The breeze filtering through the open window brushes his hair back from his forehead and makes the open collar of his white, unbuttoned shirt, fluttering slightly.

Something about the sight of him--flushed, exhausted, unguarded--twists something in Varian’s stomach.

“Hey,” he says, voice cracking too loudly in the quiet.

Hugo doesn’t turn his head, but his shoulder inch up slightly. “Hey,” he says back, eyes glued to something outside the window.

Varians’ eyes narrow in on the gooseflesh raised on the skin of his neck. With a sigh, he snatches a blanket off the bed and goes to Hugo, draping it over his shoulders.

Hugo turns his head at that, blinking up at him owlishly through round glasses. “Oh,” he says, like he’s just noticing Varian’s here. Which is concerning. “Thanks.”

Varian shrugs a shoulder, throwing himself on the other side of the window seat. It’s a large enough space--or maybe Varian’s just short--for the two of them to sit without touching. Not that Varian’s thinking of touching him.

An uneasy silence--on Varian’s part, at least--falls over them as Hugo continues to stare blankly out the window. His usually brilliant green eyes are glazed over, enhancing the flush that’s spread from his face, down his to his neck.

He sniffs a couple of times, nose wrinkling.

“Nuru wants you to drink some tea, I think,” Varian says, tapping his fingers against his knee nervously. “I can go get some for you if you wa-”

“It’s fine.” Hugo’s voice carries no intonation. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Varian says, in a very measured voice. The last thing he wants to do is upset the guy right now.

Hugo’s eyes shut. His lips press together tightly, but not out of anger. He looks like he’s just barely holding it together, and Varian doesn’t understand why.

Or, maybe he does. Varian used to be very open and free with his emotions, but over the past few years--since everything in Corona with his dad, the amber, Cass--Varian has gotten used to putting up shields around his heart. Vulnerability was a very scary thing, especially with those you cared about.

Hugo didn’t seem to be the type of person who liked to show weakness.

A particularly chilling breeze brushes through the window. It’s enough that even Varian is shivering at it’s touch.

He reaches out slowly and gently pulls the blanket around Hugo tighter. Hugo’s eyes open at that, watching Varian with an unreadable emotion.

“I think you should lie down,” Varian says.

Hugo shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“Hugo-”

“The bed’s too soft,” Hugo exhales, sounding embarrassed.

Something in Varian’s stomach twists painfully. The year after prison hadn’t been easy, but most of it was just getting used to being able to walk around without having the entirety of Corona’s military breathing down your neck. The other half was getting used to how soft his threadbare bed in Olde Corona felt.

Varian gets it. He doesn’t know Hugo’s story yet, but he gets it.

“Lie down here then,” he coaxes, one hand coming up to cup his neck. It’s warm--too warm. The worry simmering in Varian’s gut flares.

“What, on you?” Hugo snorts, sounding--if for a moment--a bit like himself.

Varian feels his own face flush about as badly as Hugo’s face is right now. “Would it make you feel more comfortable?” he asks, voice pitching up high.

Hugo’s stares at him hazily, the fever most likely getting in the way of his higher processing powers. “Yeah,” he says, looking not quite all there. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

And then he flops face first into Varian’s lap.

Varian lets out a surprised laugh, one hand going to his hair. “Okay then,” he says, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

“Mmphf.”

Varian snorts, coaxing Hugo into rolling over so that he can at least breathe. “Why do I put up with you?” he mutters, more amused than exasperated for once.

Hugo blinks a couple of times at him. “It’s weird,” he says at last. “You’re weird. I’ve never had someone who’s wanted to put up with me before.”

Varian’s hopes Hugo can’t tell his heart just shattered into about a million pieces. “Well, you do now,” he says, easing Hugo’s glasses off his face and delicately placing them on the nearby end table. “You have three people, in fact, who are willing to put up with your dumb ass.”

The blond squints up at him. “But you were first. That’s-” he gestures gracelessly with one hand, “-that’s important.”

Varian smooths his hair back from his forehead, mentally taking note of the amount of heat coming off his flushed skin. “Yeah?”

“Mmm.” Hugo’s eyes close. “You keep doing that. Surprising me.”

“Well someone has to knock your ego down a few notches.”

A ghost of a grin. His eyes open again, almost as if he’s worried Varian has left in the few seconds he stopped looking.

“Hugo, go to sleep,” Varian chides. He runs his fingers through Hugo’s hair again, hoping it will draw him into sleep. “I can continue to surprise you tomorrow.”

“You’re surprising me now,” Hugo mumbles, but he’s becoming more and more pliant with each pet of Varian’s fingers through his hair. “Don’t go anywhere, ‘kay?”

Varian swallows. “I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promises. “Now go to sleep.”

Hugo’s eyes finally drop shut, breath evening out. Varian leans back against the wall, one hand in the blond’s hair. The weight of the other boy is both grounding and sends strange flutterings to Varian’s stomach that he doesn’t understand.

Hugo lets out a small snore in his sleep. It’s adorable. Hugo’s adorable, Varian realizes, much to his horror.

Another breezes brushes in through the window, setting the white, transparent curtains afloat in the air. Hugo shivers slightly, curling up closer around Varian.

His face is pressed somewhere between his thigh and stomach, one arm wrapped loosely around his torso. Varian runs his fingers through Hugo’s soft hair again and comes to two realizations simultaneously.

Varian has feelings for Hugo. Positive feelings. Fluffy, mushy, fluttering feelings that reside somewhere between his aching heart and the butterflies in his stomach and Varian wants to cry or throw up or maybe kiss the dumb blond until those feelings settle themselves.

Hugo might--a very, very tentative might, because Varian isn’t great at reading other people at the best of times--just might have feelings for Varian. Maybe.

That’s important, he had said, eyes glazed, pupils dilated, lips parted. You keep doing that. Surprising me.

Varian shuts his eyes. Yeah, he’s totally and utterly fucked.

#varigo #hugo vat7k #varian #nuru vat7k #yong vat7k #my fic #my fanfic #tts #vat7k #writing prompts

[anothertimdrakestan]

Hot Stuff (Tim Drake x Reader)

Words: 3k

Req: “can you do a fic where the reader has to get protected and she doesn't want to and thinks it's dumb but like otherwise someone is gonna try to kill her so a batboy (of your choice) has to protect her and they like realize they like each other? i just think it would be really cute sorry haha you can ignore me.”

I’m not gonna ignore you!!! this is adorable! also i let ppl vote not knowing the prompt and they picked tim hehehe so this will be fun! you really left me a LOT of creative freedom lmao so i tried my best but had a lot of fun lolz hope you enjoy angel!

It had been at least 5 years since you had ever shivered. And the last time it happened you were like 20 seconds away from dying so the fact that it was becoming a common feeling was definitely a problem. But your near death every couple minutes was a pretty dumb excuse to get you holed up in the batcave being watched over by none other than Mr. Batman himself. 

The whole problem arose when all the cold-powered super villains decided it was time for their equivalent of a crossover, deciding that if the world was frozen over they could... steal shit? Then unfreeze it or something? They were always a little slow (call it brain freeze if you will) but the beginnings of their plan worked and the temperature of the Earth was dropping steadily which didn’t bode well for a hero like you who’s powers revolved around heat and energy, the colder you got the weaker- making this the reason you were in a makeshift furnace set up discreetly in the Batcave. 

“Morning y/n let’s see how you’re doing” Tim greeted you with a wave, grabbing a tablet that was tracking your internal body temperature and other boring statistics on whether or not you’d live. “Oh man, okay, lemme turn it up” Tim tapped at the tablet while you folded another paper airplane and threw it at the glass. “I feel fine man, like really, I’m just chilling” you shrugged, incinerating the paper airplane with a small flame in the center of your palm while Tim chuckled. “Well ya see, you ‘chilling’ is actually quite a bad thing, but yeah a couple minutes with extra heat and you can come to breakfast!” you rolled your eyes at his smothered laughter. “How long you been sitting on that one?” you teased him. 

“Long enough Sparky, now warm up I’m hungry” Tim started you on a burst of energy while he moved on to the main BatComputer. “Whatcha solving today? Anything I can help with?” you squinted at the screen hoping for something interesting. “Bruce is going out to see if he can find the location of all the machines dropping the temp, and no, you’re definitely not going outside anytime soon” Tim chided you while you groaned and let sharp flames jutt from your clenched fists. “I’m not a child, I can regulate my temperature on my own, hell I can still make fire so clearly I’m fine” you said matter-of-factly holding up a flame and letting it dancing into a small burst. 

“And I’d like to keep you that way y/n let’s not risk it, now c’mon I think you’ve taken in enough energy” Tim opened the door to your little glass room, his eyes widening at the heat that brushed over his face. “Dude you ever got hot in there?” Tim questioned, fanning his face from the exposure. “Nope, I’m kinda like that all the time” you explained, casually taking his hand to show him how your skin practically radiated heat. “Oh- wow, you’re really warm but it’s kinda cool.” Tim mumbled, pushing your palm flush up against his, the tops of his fingertips curling around yours while he grinned, “your hands are so small” you snorted, “whatever Drake, I could cook you like a bird if I wanted to,” you laughed, racing up the steps towards the kitchen ready to warm up some breakfast.

That afternoon you were helping Damian through homework hoping for any excitement in the pure boredom. “Alright, done. I’m going to take Titus out you can come- uh actually nevermind.” Damian shot you an apologetic look before grabbing Titus’ collar. “No actually I can go! I’m super warm and got the go ahead!” You quickly stood up, telling yourself a little getaway was necessary. “Really? I believe Drake said-” you cut Damian off, “Tim is like never right about anything yaknow? Let’s go!” You zipped up a couple of your jackets with a grin while Damian led you outside. 

The air was crisp, like a fall day that was on the verge of shifting into winter. “You’re not going to die on me are you?” Damian glanced at you while you breathed in the fresh air peacefully. “No haha, this is just regulating my temperature using my powers for a little while, I get ill when I do it for too long, let’s go!” you raced down the street loving the freedom even though you could feel the cold creep in. 

“Y/n? Y/n? Guys I think her eyelids are moving! Y/N! Can you hear me?” a familiar voice buzzed over the white noise while you began to regain your senses. Slowly you blinked your eyes open to see Damian, who looked pissed, Bruce, who also looked pissed, and Tim, who looked worse than ever. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING YOU LIED TO DAMIAN TO GO OUTSIDE THEN ALMOST DIED!” Tim was waving his hands and showing you charts of your warmth-cold ratios being at all time lows and spouting off concerning facts about your health while Bruce just looked at the ceiling asking ‘why me’. 

“I thought I’d be fine” you whispered, feeling your throat scream at it’s use. “It’s like freezing outside- freakin colder than winter- and you wanted to go outside???” Tim looked exasperated, he was in a loose tank top and shorts, it looked like he’d been sweating so he had probably been next to you for a while during your recovery. “I didn’t think I’d get so cold” you mumbled, flexing your hands while you tried to regain your strength. 

Eventually Tim calmed down, he went back to working on cases but you noticed him frequently checking to confirm you hadn’t left your new room. Damian chastised you for lying and told you how you essentially fainted a couple blocks into the walk, it was just way too cold too for you to function outside. But the small taste of freedom was worth it. 

“Hey hot stuff,” Tim gave you a little devilish smile at his new nickname for you. “Cute Drake, but what’s up?” you called back as he approached your makeshift oven-room. “Nothing much just thought I’d come hangout- warm up your cold dark heart for once” you shook your head at all his heat-centered puns. “Tough talk for a glorified shish-kebab” you said with a laugh, letting a little spark dance on your finger tips. 

“What does it feel like? The powers and being cold?” Tim asked, his eyes still staring at your palm. “Mhm it’s a part of me yaknow? So when it’s cold its like a piece of my being is being stifled, like choked out of me. But normally, it just flows through me and I can channel it and what not but right now it feels... rigid, like every ounce of warmth is being used to circulate through my own body” you said with a sign, missing the freedom and immense warmth. “We’re gonna fix this y/n you know that right? This is only temporary, I promise.” Tim whispered, inching closer to the glass. 

You felt a tear slip out, quickly you pushed it away feeling it evaporate in your hands you looked up at Tim who was inches from the glass, his cheeks were red from the heat radiating on him as he stood bundled in a sweater. Slowly he gave you a hopeful smile, putting his hand up against the glass. With a small smile you uncurled your hand up to meet his, for a second you just met his eyes and knew you were safe. Even when everything seemed so cold Tim was warm, and he was always there for you. 

A couple days later you were stable, but constantly needing reheating. You’d spent a lot of time with Tim who had set up a little workspace outside your room. He’d work on cases and talk to you, sometimes he’d catch a few minutes of sleep, his cheek pressed adorably up to the warm glass while you stifle giggles as his sleepy breaths fog the glass. Your situation was bearable with Tim, and you were really starting to enjoy his company.

“Red Robin we’ve got something” you watched Tim shoot up from his work as Bruce descended into the Batcave. “Barry Allen and the rest of Star Labs have reason to believe the frost machines aren’t actually underground, but their above us. Think pumping out cold air like an AC machine for the Earth” Tim nodded, sitting down at the batcomputer as he began typing rapidly. You were straining your neck against the glass to try to see what he was doing. 

“Got it, try here, here, and here” Tim was pointing wildly at a map while Bruce sent out the coords. “Suit up, if we’re right this’ll be a real fight” Bruce said as he left to go get the others. After Tim was in his suit he came up next to your room with a grin. You looked at him with hopeful eyes, “you think this is it?” you asked Tim while he flashed you a hopeful smile. “I hope so y/n, if we’re lucky this will be it” he answered, taking a deep breath and clenching his hands into fists. “Well you need extra luck” you told him, he nodded then stopped short when you burst out of the room, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “My hugs are super lucky” you whispered into his chest while his hands wrapped around your back. “I’ll take all the luck I can get” he mumbled, lowering his head into the crook of your neck. The hug was easy and perfect- until you started to shiver. Quickly Tim deposited you back into your room, turning up the heat. 

“Guess I’m not hot enough for you” Tim snorted while you rubbed your shoulders. “Shut up dork, now go fix the world so I can give you a proper hug” you placed your hand against the glass again. With a nod he placed his hand to yours, “will do” he said, dashing off towards Bruce and Damian who were also all suited up. 

“Y/n I must inform you they have in fact found the base and will be going into battle shortly” Alfred called from the computers while he monitored the team’s location. “Yes!” you shouted, pumping a fist in the air while you paced around your room. 

The plan was clear, there were 10 giant AC machines pumping out the frost across the world, some heroes had been separated into teams each tasked with taking out their respective machine then any hero strong enough to lift the machines were in charge of bringing them to an undisclosed location on one of Bruce’s private islands for inspection and dismantling. Alfred had Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian’s vitals displayed on the screen as their suits were consistently monitoring them and you’d been craning your neck to keep track of the little bars. “god Alfie how do you take it? You can see every hit they take, every injury, you’re basically looking at it all going wrong!” you felt like tearing your hair out, watching the screen light up with every hit each boy took. 

“You get used to it Ms. Y/n you must have faith that they’ve seen worse and can survive anything” Alfred answered cooly but it didn’t stop you from wincing everytime Tim’s bar lowered or lit up meaning he took a hit. 

Over the comms you heard Bruce and Damian confirm their machine was sufficiently broken, as well as 8 of the other machines. As it turned out, Tim, Dick, and one of those annoying speedsters had been sent to the head machine, a few members of the league were at the other. You watched Tim take hit after hit, clearly him and Dick were struggling. “Alf is it just me or are Tim and Dick’s bars not going up” you were pounding at the glass of your room. Slowly Alfred nodded, abruptly standing up. To your shock he began moving around the cave, setting up what looked like a makeshift hospital room. “There will almost assuredly be some injuries after this battle. But how are you feeling Ms. Y/n as over half of the machines have been taken down” Alfred drew you away from the flashing bars as you realized you were feeling better, still not top shape but better than you’d been in days. “Yeah you’re right I’m definitely feeling better-”

“Hey Alfie Tim just got buried in snow any recommendations?” you heard Dick’s voice come over the speakers. Your head whipped to his bar which was flashing wildly as you shrieked. Alfred replied quickly, “Master Dick you must remove him immediately and wrap him with something warm as his suit cannot regulate him in freezing temperatures.” as he made his way back to the batcomputer, talking Dick through his next actions. 

“Will do, he’ll be okay but he’s kinda a popsicle right now” Dick’s voice came over the comms again while you let out the breath you’d been holding in as you saw Tim’s bar sliding back up. Shortly after they were aided by the rest of the league, promptly taking out the final machine and finding the villains hiding inside. 

Dick, Tim, and Damian returned to the cave shorty, Bruce was busy with league business interrogating the villains. Damian came in first, declaring he now hated the cold after how freezing that mission was. Following him was Dick who was walking with a slight limp as he called to Alfred explaining that he just twisted it when he dug Tim out of the snow. And last, Tim made his way into the cave. His hair was wet, clearly melted from being buried under snow. He was wearing a Star Labs sweatshirt and sweatpants as he held his waterlogged suit in his slightly shaky hands, and a towel was draped over his shoulders. “Alf you want my suit? Pretty sure I fried half the tech” he called as he shook his head, little water droplets flying from his hair. “I’ll see to it’s repair Master Tim” Alfred nodded, gesturing for Tim to place it next to him. “Also, might I recommend you spend some time with Miss Y/n as she is quite capable of warming you up” Alfred gestured towards your room before going back to examining Dick’s ankle. 

Tim nodded in agreement, giving you a little wave as he stumbled into the room with you. Letting the relief flood your head you quickly brought him into a warm hug, focusing on pushing some of your energy forwards to warm him up. “Mhm” Tim’s eyelashes fluttered shut against your neck while he melted into your embrace. “You’re so cold” you whispered with a giggle. “Yeah and you’re really hot” Tim groaned in reply, though you could feel his lips curl into a smile against your neck. “I think you meant warm” you tried to ignore the butterflies having a rager in your stomach. “Hm no I said it right” Tim whispered in your ear making your eyes widen at his upfront response. “Oh, I- uh, thanks? I think you’re pretty cool- no not cool cuz like that’s the opposite of hot- yeah you’re-” you were silenced as Tim pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes shot open at the feeling of his ice cold lips pressed to yours but they quickly fluttered closed when his hand wrapped around the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. His lips quickly warmed up against yours making your breath hitch when he slipped a cold hand around your waist pulling you flush against him. His fingers felt like ice as they grasped your back but you couldn’t but melt into his touch. 

You pulled away first, taking in gasping breaths while you couldn’t help but grin. “You warm yet?” you teased, pulling his hand away from your back and placing your hand in his, giving it a warm squeeze. “Mhm one more kiss” he pouted, leaning down to place a smiling kiss onto your lips while you scrunched your nose. “I should seriously freeze to death more often if it means I get to kiss you” Tim said while you rolled your eyes. “Or you could just not die and I might give you a good-job kiss?” you offered with a grin. “Will do” Tim nodded, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“Goodbye oven!” you shouted, practically kicking the door open as you finally got to leave the cramped room behind. Just a day later the Earth had returned to average temperature and you were free. “I am SO ready to go home, not that I didn’t like it here” you said, giving Tim a little smile as Bruce return all your belongings after a little over a week in Bat-Solitude. “Come back soon though?” Tim piped up with a hopeful looks. “Definitely, I won’t give you the cold shoulder” you snorted at your own joke while Damian groaned, saying something about being happy he’ll be free of your puns. 

Tim walked you out, chatting your ear off about his next cases and all the time he had to come see you, over the course of the frozen-adventure you’d found a best friend and possibly something more, maybe the oven was worth it after all? 

“Okay, so I’ll see you in a couple days?” you grinned as Tim nodded. “Yup! Now before you go, I need another good luck hug- they definitely work wonders seeing as last time I got buried in snow” Tim laughed, wrapping his arms around you as he chuckled into the hug. “Not my fault you turned into a snowman Drake” You gave him a squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with him. His hand slipped to your chin again, but this time you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, loving the way sparks danced on your lips. Pulling out of the kiss as the car arrived Tim opened the door for you like the gentleman he is, giving your hand a squeeze.

“See you later hot stuff” Tim winked at you, shutting the door and waving as you drove away, shaking your head at his never ending puns, you smiled to yourself as soon as he was out of view, loving the idea that you’d get to tease that cute dork for the rest of your life. 

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #tim drake x fem!reader #damian wayne #batboys #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne #tim drake fluff #tim drake fanfic #red robin #red robin x reader #batfam #batfam x reader #dc fluff #jason todd #dc fanfic #timothy jackson drake

[shhh-no-ones-home]

how to save a life bucky barnes x reader

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Good old whump 😌 this is so fucking long (wc: 2113)

also i know some people are weird about dogs so just know reader has a very large typically seen as aggressive kind of dog (but hes not, just a little slobbery and awkward lol)

Song: say something by danny worsnop and matty mullins 

tag list: @cynic-spirit

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"I can't take your shit anymore. If you won't do anything about it then I will! I quit!"

I yelled, untying my apron and tossing it at my manager. One of the cooks had been harassing me for the last couple weeks and he refused to say or do anything. But I had reached my breaking point.

"Come on y/n, we need you! You can't leave me short staffed like that."

He whined and I shook my head, making my way to the back door.

"No, fuck you Rodney, you can find someone else to deal with it."

I said annoyed, clocking out, grabbing my stuff and storming out the back. I gave him the finger as the door slammed behind me, sighing angrily at myself for not finding a new job sooner.

"Fuck!"

I yelled, kicking the brick wall before leaning into it, shoving my head in my hands. Then I heard a harsh cough. My attention snapped towards the man limping through the alley way, seemingly clutching at his side.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I asked, reaching into my bag and gripping my pepper spray tightly.

"Sir?"

I asked again, moving closer to him in the darkness. When he looked up at me I realized who it was. I had seen pictures of him before. What was his name? James? Yeah captain Americas bear friend. From the museum.

"Help."

He managed before falling face first into the dirt. I gasped as I watched his body go limp. In that moment I wasn't quite sure what to do. I couldn't call someone cause I didn't know who to call, and God it was gonna take everything in me to get him back to my apartment. But I couldn't just leave him here. Shit. I sighed before kneeling down and rolling him over. His face was bruised and bloodied, the same as the knuckles on his hand. He must have really gotten into it with someone. I bit my lip before sitting him up with a groan.

"Okay james, work with me here."

I sighed out, going around him and picking him up. He made a soft noise and I looked at him, his eyelids bobbing open for a second.

"Two blocks, that's all it is."

I told myself more than anything, slinging his arm over my shoulder and walking with him dragging his feet. The whole walk was labored breathing and groaning. He was heavier than he looked but then again he was pretty much solid muscle. And though he wasn't much help I could tell he was trying. That endurance was paying off a little bit. But as soon as we were to my apartment he was out, practically falling through the door after I opened it. I only just caught him, laying him on the floor gently and dragging him to the couch. As I tried to put him on it I could hear my dog whining and tapping his toes in his crate.

"Give me a minute Wolf."

I said half annoyed as I got James flat on his back. When I was content with him laying there I let my massive akita-rottweiler mix out of his crate. He immediately went to James and started sniffing him excitedly until I snapped my fingers at him.

"Hey, leave the nice man alone. Let's go potty."

I said, him barking and running towards the door. I quickly got his leash on and took him down to the streets of new York. We walked a good block before finally heading back to my apartment. After I took Wolfs leash off he was right back in James' face.

"Hey, what did I say? Go lay down."

I instructed, him making a sad sound before pouting his way to his large bed in front of the window. I sighed, looking over James with my hands on my hips. Then I noticed a darkened spot just under his jacket and immediately began to worry.

"Shit. Is that blood?"

I said, stepping closer. I watched his face as I knelt down, pushing the coffee table further away from the couch.

"James I don't know if you can hear me but I'm gonna undo your jacket."

I said in a clear voice, watching to see if he moved but he didn't, prompting me to go on anyway. When the front of it was undone I gasped. He was indeed bleeding. It took me a minute to get it fully off, his shirt following right after. To my surprise his whole torso was covered in scrapes and bruises, along with what seemed to be a gunshot wound. Luckily it was only a graze. That I could treat.

"What the hell were you doing?"

I asked out loud even though I knew he couldn't hear me. I shook my head before going to get the first aid kit from under my bed, wolf following me around my apartment. I guess lucky for him I went to medical school, I mean I flunked out my last semester, but still. That's only three months I'd have to finish before I'm a licensed nurse. I had this. Right?

"God I hope I don't have to sew this man shut."

°°°°°°°°°

The next few hours I just sat at my breakfast bar staring at him in the living room, sipping coffee and trying not to wake Wolf who was now fast asleep at my feet. I was waiting patiently for him to wake up, to make noise, to move even an inch. but it never happened. He was however still breathing, the portable heart monitor I had attached to his finger beeping softly.

When the sun started peering through my curtains though I figured it was best to check on him again. After all, I would need to change his bandages soon so whatever it was that hit him didn't get infected. Wolf for one was very excited again for me to be working on the stranger, running to him and getting in his face again.

"Wolf!"

I scolded, James jolting upright as I pulled the collar back on his large black neck.

"Sorry."

I said through a nervous laugh. He looked around for a moment before looking down and wincing in pain as he touched his abdomen.

"Go lay down."

I said harshly, wolf not quite budging at first. But going when I nudged him with my knee.

"Um, I hope you don't mind that. I did as best I could but it's been a while. I was gonna come change them."

He stared at me, looking to wolf in his bed when he sighed.

"Thank you."

He said softly and I nodded.

"Do you mind laying back down? It's a little easier."

I said and he did, slowly, watching my every move as I knelt beside him. I dug into my kit to get new dressing, peeling the old off and shaking my head. It was still bleeding but there wasn't much I could do about it.

"Do you remember much about last night James?"

I asked and he shook his head no, the dog tags around his neck shifting. I focused intently on what I was doing, hearing wolf sigh again. I rolled my eyes, sending him a playful look.

"You aren't afraid of dogs are you James?"

I asked and he shook his head again.

"Okay wolf, come here."

He stood quickly, panting as he came over and stood beside me, looking like he had a wide smile on his face as he sat down. James looked up at him and smiled back, bringing his right hand to scratch at wolf's head. It was a good distraction as I fixed his wounds for a second time. As I put the stuff away I was forced to remember he was still shirtless.

"Oh uh, I washed your shirt too, it was pretty soaked through."

He nodded, making a pained face as he moved to sit up, letting me help as he did. Wolf took that as an invitation to get on the couch, his large dog body taking up a good portion of it as he laid across James' lap. I looked to the ceiling as he laughed, petting him some more.

"I'm so sorry. If you want him off all you have to do is tell him to get down."

I said standing up, going to the kitchen to wash my hands.

"I don't mind it, he reminds me of an old friend."

He lamented as I came back, wiping my hands on a towel.

"They must've been one hell of a friend."

He nodded slowly.

"Hey uh, you can call me Bucky. if you want."

I reached for his hand and shook it.

"Y/n."

"Thanks for this y/n."

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm not gonna lie James, uh Bucky, I was a little shook up last night. I had just quit my job when you came stumbling down the alley I almost wasn't sure what to do with you. And I know as a citizen I probably should have called an ambulance but as an ally..."

I paused. he looked a little more into what i had to say now.

"I've, well, I've been around the block with a string of heroes before and none of them could ever actually get help from paramedics. So I did what I could."

He nodded.

"I really appreciate it y/n, I must've been desperate after all, to go to a complete stranger."

He laughed.

"I'm just glad you found me and not someone else. Or who knows what could have happened."

"those were my thoughts exactly."

there was a long pause, me standing awkwardly and both of us staring at the floor. then Wolf barked, taking both of our attention as i jumped at the sudden sound.

"guess he agrees."

i said and he laughed again.

"ya know i really appreciate this. is there a way i could repay you? some how?"

he asked and i shook my head.

"no, i couldn't let you do that. really."

i said quickly, holding my hand out, watching as he struggled to stand.

"i want to."

he insisted, stumbling forward and i caught him. he panted out a pained noise.

"knowing you're safe is enough. come over here, lets get you something to eat."

i said, walking him slowly to the bar i was just sat at and feeling his back muscles strain against my palm as i held him upright.

"careful, you keep taking care of me i might never leave."

he said through a wince as i placed him in the chair.

"promise?"

i laughed and he sent me a soft look before smiling. i could feel the blush run across my face as i moved to the fridge, making a face like i was an idiot for saying that.

"uh i went to school to be a nurse after taking care of my last boyfriend. he was terminally ill but didnt want to stay at a care facility. i guess ive kind of been missing it since he passed last year."

"im sorry."

he said quietly as i pulled things out of the fridge for breakfast.

"its alright. ive been getting by. plus i have wolfie over there to keep me busy."

i said with a smile, the large dog wagging his tail as he sat at the edge of the kitchen.

"im sure he appreciated all you did for him."

bucky said and i nodded once, moving to the stove.

"uh, how do you like your eggs?"

he turned in the chair to look at me.

"what's your specialty?"

i laughed.

"anything but poached."

he smiled widely at me.

"over easy please."

"great. that i can do."

there was another long silence as i began frying the eggs. then he cleared his throat.

"would it be a little Stockholm syndrome-y to ask you out after saving my life?"

i let out a short, loud, laugh before looking at him.

"oh you're serious?"

i asked and he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"unless youre not looking but the least i could do is take you to dinner."

i nodded slowly, plating the food and setting the plates on the counter.

"im not but i wouldnt say no to dinner. and who knows, maybe id be open to seeing you after. maybe with a shirt and not bleeding on my couch."

he picked up the fork and raised it in cheers to me.

"ill take it. and its the least i could do. as a thank you."

"its a date then."

#wattpad #x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #one shots #imagines #captain america #White Wolf #marvel #331

[anythingandeverything1d]

The tape (part 2)

Part 1 

Niall’s pov:

Niall, Louis, and Liam were watching the soccer tournament and eating pizza when the doorbell rang. All of the guys looked at each other and sighed. It had been a couple hours since (y/n) had fallen asleep in Louis’ guest bedroom. Harry had been calling and texting her phone non stop which was still sitting abandoned on Louis’ counter. No doubt Harry had tracked her location here. The pounding on the door began but no one moved. No one wanted to disrupt (y/n) right now. She had a hard enough time finding out about the tape and then realizing what exactly it had meant for their relationship, the last thing she needed was woken up by Harry. Louis sighed and stood up, walking to the door with Liam and Niall closely behind. Louis tugged open the door and there he was. He looked pitiful. His eyes were red, puffy, and blood shot. His hair was a mess, tangled curls pulled back from his face. “Harry, so nice ta see ya.” Louis smiled. “What can I do for ya?”

“I know she’s here...” he whispered. “I need to talk to her.”

Louis sighed and looked back at the guys who shook their heads. Niall stepped forward. “I’m not sure I would do that Harry.”

“Why’s that Niall?” Harry shook his head walking in. 

“She’s a bit of a mess at the moment actually. I would give her some time to maybe settle down a bit.” Liam added. 

“I need to see her..” Harry looked anxiously around.

“What happened?” Louis asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to fucking know why you just ruined the best thing you ever had.” Louis snapped back. “That girl deserved the world. She deserves the absolute best, your best. And you did what Harry? Made a sex tape with another girl?”

“Shut up, just tell me where she is Louis.” Harry was getting pissed.

“You should've seen her face when she found out. I’ve never seen a soul broken before but thanks to you and your stupidity now I have. You just ruined that girl. Broke her into a million little pieces.”

“Louis shut up!”

“How could you Harry? I really don't understand. I mean you had it all. She was your life. But now?” Louis laughed angrily. “Now you have nothing. There’s no way she’s going to forgive you for this. You just washed 7 years of love down the drain.”

“You know nothing.”

“Really?” Niall stepped in. “We know that you broke the girls heart. We know that she was inconsolable. She was physically sick when she watched the video. And then she begged us to take her away from YOUR house.” “I just don’t get it man. I mean was the sex not good or something? I never expected this from you. (y/n) is beautiful, she’s sweet, she’s-”

“I know!” Harry yelled. “I don't need anyone to tell me that. I need someone to tell me where she is.”

“No.” Louis crossed his arms.

“What?”

“No. I’m not telling you. She literally begged us to take her away from you and your house and all of your belongings. Why would we tell you where she was? You made her physically ill Harry, Niall had to hold her hair back while she was getting sick. What part of that aren’t you getting into your head. You don’t deserve her you know that right? And you definitely don’t fucking deserve to know where she is at the moment.”

“Where is she? Louis tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is!” Harry screamed. He was losing it. He pushed past the three guys, looking for her. “(y/n)?” he called out. “(y/n)!” After not hearing an answer, he found her phone. He picked it  up, more tears falling down his face. He looked at the guys and they looked away. Harry sighed and dropped his head and whispered, “None of you understand. (y/n) may not understand and you’re right, she may never forgive me. But she deserves to know the truth....”

“And what’s the truth?” you quietly mumbled stepping out from around the corner.

Your pov:

You had crept out of bed, and were silently listening around the corner to the boys arguing. Harry was upset, from the small glance you had seen of him passing by, clearly this situation hadn’t been much easier on him than it had on you. He looked like a mess, something you very rarely saw. You had been fully content on just listening and wandering back to your room when he left, but something inside you had flipped when he said it. You needed the truth. You needed to know why he had ruined 7 years of a relationship, plans to get married, have kids, and grow old together, all for 4 minutes of a sex tape with some random ass girl.

Harry just looked at you, the truth of the situation sinking in. His green eyes searched yours for any sign of hope but you held steady. “Why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we-” your voice broken and you looked down. “What we had?” You were crying now, approaching Harry fast. “We talked about marriage Harry. We talked about kids, and and growing old together!” You screamed, lashing out at him.

“I still want that!” He held his arms up. “(y/n) I swear I-”

“YOU CHEATED HARRY! YOU FUCKING NOT ONLY SLEPT WITH SOMEONE ELSE BUT YOU HAD TO FUCKING RECORD IT TOO!” You couldn’t help it, you slapped him hard on the cheek. He looked shocked, pain flashing through his eyes. You had never hit him before, never even thought about it. You could see the pink handprint forming already on his cheek and you raised your hand to his face, He grabbed it, holding it steadily away from him. You were sobbing and Louis had rushed over trying to decide when he should intervene. You frantically were pushing against Harry’s chest with your free hand, you couldn’t even see through the tears but you wanted him to feel the pain you felt. “What happened to TRUST? What happened to us promising if there was a problem we would fix it TOGETHER? What did I do to make this happen? Why did you do it....” You couldn’t breathe, you dropped to your knees on the floor sobbing and trying to catch your breath. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” 

“No...no baby that’s not it at all....” Harry whispered painfully. You could almost hear his heart breaking in his voice. Your eyes were closed but you felt arms tighten around your body. You were hiccuping through the tears trying to catch your breath when you were pulled onto someone’s lap- Harry’s lap. You knew the feeling, the way you fit into him, the way he squeezed you in certain places when you were upset, you had no doubt it was Harry’s lap you were on. You wanted to push him away, to get up, and prove a point but instead your body clung to his, your face burying into his chest for comfort. You could feel his tears falling onto the top of your head, your tears meanwhile were fully soaking into the t-shirt he was wearing. Your fists clutched the shirt on his chest, holding on for dear life. Harry rocked you slowly, whispering calming words and trying to settle you down. “Shh....I’m so sorry (y/n)....I’m so sorry.” 

You don’t know how long you sat there, but it was long enough to hear Niall and Liam mumble goodbye and leave. It was also long enough for Louis to tell Harry to carry you into the guest bedroom for the night. Harry set you carefully on the bed and when you refused to let go of his shirt, he climbed in next you. You looked up at him through the tears that were still falling. His green eyes were red and exhausted but he attempted a smile and wiped a tear from your cheek. Without saying anything, he shifted his body so that you were curled up next to him, your head laying flat on his chest, your ear pressed to his heart listening to the slow and familiar thumps of his heartbeat. He didn’t dare say anything, and neither did you. You wanted to move, to tell him to leave but you were so utterly exhausted you just didn't have the energy anymore. Instead, you just closed your eyes, drifting into dull and uneasy sleep.

When you woke up, you groaned. Your head was fuzzy, your eyes felt puffy and tired, and you felt a little sick to your stomach. You rolled over blinking. Harry was still softly snoring next to you, and for a minute you curled up into him, your fingers trailing his jaw the way you would on a normal morning. Then you realized there was nothing normal about this morning. Everything came flooding back to your head. The tears, the fighting, the sex tape. You jumped up, waking Harry in the process. “(y/n)...” his deep voice was covered in sleep, making it just a little slower and deeper than normal. He sat up rubbing his eyes, “Wait...” You looked at him, new tears forming in your eyes. He sighed and patted the bed next to you. “Can we talk please...” You shook your head and collapsed, your back against the wall. Harry just took a breath and looked at you. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never intended for any of this to happen. I want to tell you everything. I want to make things better. I want-”

“You can’t.”

“What?” He looked at you, his green eyes begging for a chance but you looked away.

“You can’t make this better Harry. The damage is done.”

“(y/n)-”

“Just leave.”

“Babe..”

“Go away Harry. I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t want to listen to you beg for forgiveness. I can’t. I won’t. You need to go.”

“Just let me talk okay? I- I need to-”

“Harry I don’t want to listen. I’m not ready for this. Yesterday I watched you fuck another girl in OUR bed. I had to read through the millions of tweets people sent me about the sex tape, and then I had to watch it again, just to make sure it was real. I’M DONE. I CAN’T DO THIS....I hate you.” You were crying again but you weren't about to give in. He couldn’t just bat his eyes and think everything would go back to normal.

Harry stood up, moving towards you. His face looked panic stricken and he looked the way he had when you slapped him last night. When he took another step in your direction, you froze.  “LOUIS!” you screamed.”LOUIS HELP!”  Louis came sprinting into the room, shirtless and confused. You looked up at him through tears.”Tell him to go. Make him leave...” You begged crying. Louis looked from you to Harry and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Harry, I think you should go...”

“Louis, don’t be ridiculous. This doesn’t even involve you-”

“Actually you’ve kinda forced me into the situation now haven't ya? Just go. I’ll make sure she's okay...I’ll keep you updated.” Harry looked down at you. He was crying too, realizing just how badly he had screwed things up. He looked at Louis again who nodded at the door. “You’re only hurting your chances more by staying.”

Harry nodded, shuffling his feet through the door. He made it to the hallway and stopped. “I love you. I love you now and I loved you every MINUTE of the last 7 years. I won’t give up on us.” Harry sniffled, wiping a tear and then headed down the hall to the front door. 

When you heard the door close you broke down. Louis sat next to you, trying to ease the pain and comfort you in some way but out of all the guys he was probably the worst at these situations. Your heart physically ached and you couldn’t breathe. You were choking on tears and partially regretted watching him leave. “Come on love,” Louis tugged you to your feet and dragged you into the kitchen. “Let’s get some food into ya. You’ve not eaten anything in quite a long time.” 

Louis set to work in the kitchen, you were still crying but thankfully Liam and Niall had showed up, probably after Louis had texted begging for help but either way you were grateful. Niall was sat next to you at the table, talking to you about his golf tournament this weekend. Liam was making scrambled eggs and Louis was attempting pancakes. You were partly listening to Niall and partly drifting off in space. You weren’t even thinking, your mind was just wandering and not totally present. “(y/n) are ya alright?” Niall asked concerned.

You blinked and looked over at him. Niall looked at the other guys for help. Louis set a plate with pancakes and eggs in front of you. “She needs to eat.” he said looking at Niall. 

Niall nodded and picked up a fork and held it out to you. “(y/n) why don’t ya just take a bite...Food makes everythin better.” You didn’t say anything, just took the fork and stirred around the eggs. 

“Come on love, the food will help you feel a little better. Might even give you a little bit of life.”

“I have nowhere to go...” 

“What?” Louis asked confused.

“I’ve been living with Harry for the last 4 years...I have no place to live.”

“(y/n) that’s not true. You can live here. You know you are always welcome at Tommo’s place.”

“Yeah, and your always welcome at mine too.” Niall added. 

“Bear would love having his aunt (y/n) around.” Liam noted nodding his head. 

You didn’t answer. You just took a bite of the eggs and pushed the plate away. “I think I’m going to go lay down. I’m not really hungry.” You stood up and looked at your feet, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone and walking in the direction of the bedroom.

Niall’s pov:

The boys all looked at each other as you wandered away back to the bedroom. “She needs to be carefully watched.” Liam noted eating a mouthful of eggs. “Clearly she’s not okay.”

“How in the world could she be okay Liam?” Louis scoffed. “Harry was her whole world. I mean, do you even remember the last fight they had? Because I can’t think of a single example. They’ve been together 7 years! Her whole world is being flipped upside down.”

“I wasn’t saying that, I’m just saying I’m worried about her.” Liam pushed the now empty plate back and sighed. “We will have to take turns being with her until she’s back on her feet. It’s the least we can do.”

“I told Harry we would keep him updated..”

“Is that a good idea? I mean he’s probably just as unstable as she is.”

“I think he's going to constantly be worrying though and thats never a good thing. Remember when we were on tour and (y/n) fell and called Harry crying because she needed to go to the hospital to get stitches and Harry literally almost cancelled the concert because he was so worried and felt like he needed to be there. He wouldn’t eat, sleep, or move from his phone until he was sure she was in bed, being watched over and taken care of. And then all night he called her to check in and constantly beat himself up because he wasn’t there with her. They are both going to struggle with this. Harry maybe even more than (y/n).. it was his fault after all.”

The guys nodded and frowned.  “They need our help. We can’t let them be by themselves during this time.” Niall mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes.

“What do we do?” Liam asked.

“Well (y/n) watch should be pretty easy since she’s here. We will just have to make sure at least twice a day someone checks on Harry and since we are working on this project it shouldn’t be too out of the ordinary to call and show up at his place.”

“Do you think she will ever forgive Harry?” Niall looked up with a concerned look.

“I don't know...” Louis sighed and looked in the direction of the bedroom (y/n) was nestled in. “I think for both of their sakes they will need to work things out. Even if it's just as friends.”

---

Part 2! What do you think? Will (y/n) even talk to Harry? Will they be friends? Will there be more to the story? What do you think should happen?

Check out part 3 ;)

Thanks for all of your love and support on Part 1! You are all incredible! xoxo

#one direction #directioners #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagines #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fanfiction #Niall Horan #niall horan fanfiction #liam payne #liam payne fanfiction

[buffskierights]

Prompt by @everyones-favorite-bard

Right now the fic thing I have in my head is one where Jaskier is cursed (or somthing) to be able to read Geralt's mind (Geralt doesn't know) (at least not at first) and it is just a constant stream of words, a lot of which are about the bard to his surprise.

Stupendous, inspiring, wonderful, I ended up writing something so incredibly soft and way less humorous than I thought it would be

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s exasperated voice filters into his consciousness as he wakes with a groan, his cheek pressed against something cool and hard. It’s much too early to be garnering his friend’s ire already today, especially after the night he had. He doesn’t remember much of it, after the eighth ale everything goes a little fuzzy, but if the pressure in his eyes is anything to go by then Jaskier definitely started crying at some point.

It wouldn’t surprise him, he can become a bit of an emotional drunk past a certain point in the night and he’ll find the nearest willing shoulder to cry on. Usually about the Witcher looming over him, he thinks, as he peels his tired eyes open and sits up with another groan. His spine pops as it realigns from being slumped over a table and his neck aches in a way that it didn’t used to when he was a much younger man.

“We need to get going,” Geralt says quietly, and if Jaskier didn’t know better he’d say his friend was being considerate of the intense hangover he’s sporting.

“Mm, Mhm,” He nods with a yawn as he stands up and stretches, “Give me a moment to get freshened up and I’ll join you at the stables.”

As he’s walking towards the stairs he hears Geralt’s voice again, “I wonder why he drinks so heavily these days. Doesn’t he know it’s not healthy for him?”

Jaskier’s cheeks flare with embarrassment and he pretends he didn’t hear the Witcher’s comment as he hurries upstairs. Maybe he can lay of the drinks a bit, if it worries Geralt so much.

—

When he walks into the stables with his pack over his shoulder and his lute case secured across his chest, he’s surprised by Geralt’s voice sounding relieved, “There he is. Glad he didn’t find trouble in the last fifteen minutes.”

“If you know I’m here, dear Witcher, there’s no need to speak as though I’m not,” Jaskier raises his eyebrow at Geralt as he stops in front of Roach’s stall to see the Witcher tacking her up. Geralt gives him a mildly confused glance before grunting and holding his hand out for the bard’s bag. Jaskier hands it over and as the strap settles into Geralt’s palm he hears the Witcher’s voice again.

“Seems awfully light. Maybe he needs new clothes again. Those silks are pretty but not nearly sturdy enough for travel.”

Jaskier blinks and then squints suspiciously. For starters, Geralt has never once cared about the state of Jaskier’s clothing, other than to complain that it’s too bright or too flimsy. And another thing, he’s quite certain he didn’t see Geralt’s mouth move when he heard his friend’s voice. Now, Jaskier is no idiot, despite what Geralt might think, but he doesn’t want to immediately jump to the conclusion of ‘I’ve been cursed to hear my best friend’s thoughts’. Maybe Witchers are just excellent at ventriloquism; it wouldn’t be the first time Geralt’s had an unusual skill.

“He’s being rather quiet this morning. His hangover must be worse than I thought. I should look for some mint along the path today for him to chew on.”

Jaskier would be quite touched by how caring Geralt’s voice is, if it didn’t confirm that he’s hearing his friend’s thoughts. Fuck, how is he supposed to tell Geralt?

—

He discovers, through some trial and error, that the curse is restricted by distance. It seems that Jaskier has to be within ten feet of Geralt to become privy to the Witcher’s innermost thoughts, and the closer he is the louder Geralt’s mental voice is.

He’s gone from being mildly disturbed by the situation as a whole to being somewhat flustered by how many of Geralt’s thoughts are about him. Sure, Jaskier thinks about Geralt a lot, but that’s because he’s completely arse over heels in love with the man. What’s Geralt’s excuse?

To distract himself from thinking too hard about it, Jaskier has spent the last couple hours deep in thought on how he might have acquired this curse, and how to break it. He tries to stay at least ten feet away from Geralt and Roach, or at least he did once he figured out the distance aspect, but the next thought of Geralt’s had been so sad as he wondered if he did something to upset Jaskier that the bard was powerless to falling back into step with the Witcher.

“Maybe he’s taken ill. His face is looking a bit flushed. Fuck, the last time Jaskier was ill was a disaster. Fucking pneumonia bullshit. Whoever came up with that brilliant idea deserves a kick in the balls.”

Jaskier nearly chokes for what must be the seventh time that day as he forces himself not to laugh. Geralt is even funnier than he is normally in his head and Jaskier’s not sure how much longer he can hide his shaking shoulders.

—

He’s come up with an idea. It’s a horrible idea, really, but it’s one born of remembering his drunken crying upon the shoulder of a silver-eyed man who, in hindsight, was very clearly a mage.

He remembers the mage cooing sympathetically as he spilled his heart upon the sticky floor of the tavern, his last ale listlessly hanging from his fingers, and then promising that Jaskier will be able to figure out whether Geralt’s mixed signals are a sign of desire or not. Well, thank you, secret mage, but Jaskier is even more confused now than before as he sits across a warm fire from the man of his dreams.

Geralt is cleaning some gear that’s been overdue for a good treatment while Jaskier himself sits on a log with his arms crossed atop his lute. Both of them are silent as they listen to the crackling fire, Jaskier’s gaze deep in the flames as he thinks.

“He’s going to ruin his night vision like that. I suppose it’s okay, though, since I’m here.”

Jaskier’s lips twitch downward. Geralt’s thoughts have been filled with sweet shit like that all gods-damned day and it’s driving him crazy. Plus, he has yet to even tell Geralt about the curse! And he knows the longer he waits, the worse Geralt’s reaction will be.

“I wonder if he’s going to play tonight or just use his lute as an armrest. I rather like his songs that aren’t about me. The one he wrote about Eskel and Deirdre is especially beautiful when Jaskier sings it.”

Jaskier groans aloud and drops his head to his lute with a dull thunk, and Geralt’s thoughts become alarmed and concerned.

“Is he okay? Did something happen? Maybe he’s ill after all? Or something magic? My medallion’s been humming slightly all day but I haven’t been able to figure out what could be causing it the only different thing is how quiet Jaskier has been. What if he’s a Doppler? Or a changling? Do faes even take fully grown men? Maybe they would if it’s Jaskier, they seem fond of quality bards. He isn’t moving, oh fuck, I can still hear his heartbeat though so he isn’t dead, thank the gods. I don’t know what I would do if Jaskier-“

“Enough!” Jaskier cries as he sits up again, raking his fingers haphazardly through his hair, “I can’t take it! My gods, you think so fucking much, Geralt, I’ve barely had a thought to myself all gods-damned day!”

“What?”

“What?” Geralt echoes his own thought aloud, a deep frown settling on his face.

“I should have told you, I know I should have, but I thought I could figure out what was happening and fix it and then we wouldn’t have to talk about it at all,” Jaskier rambles. He feels like he probably looks a bit wild right now but he can’t do anything about it, “But then I couldn’t think because of how many of your thoughts I was hearing all fucking day and it was so overwhelming! I mean, I barely get a break from my own mess of a mind, and then I had to figure out a way to not hear yours, too?”

Geralt has gone eerily silent, both internally and externally.

“But, gods, I thought I could figure it out and fix it myself since it’s my fault I got cursed by that damned mage last night when I told him how confused you make me sometimes because I lo-“ he cuts himself off as his mouth shuts with an audible click, swallowing hard and glancing at Geralt with wide eyes.

“Because you, what, Jaskier?” He asks quietly.

Jaskier shakes his head, stroking the strings his his lute with his thumb as he whispers, “I don’t want to lose you if you don’t feel the same.”

Geralt looks at him for a few moments but his mind is quiet, “You’ve been able to hear my thoughts all day?”

“Most of them,” he nods weakly, “Clear ones.”

Geralt hums with a nod before waiting until he catches Jaskier’s eye and holding his gaze, “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you wouldn’t have lost me for loving me.”

Jaskier gapes at him in shock and Geralt smirks slightly before it falters, “Unless... that’s not how you-“

“No! I mean yes! I mean,” Jaskier feels his face start to burn as he scrambles for words, “I-I- you... I mean, we... that is to say— fuck, this isn’t— no, yes, I do love you Geralt, I’ve loved you for years I just... I never thought...”

“That Witchers could feel emotions?” Geralt raises an eyebrow and Jaskier feels a spike of flustered alarm.

“What? No! I’ve never— what makes you think— Geralt, no, I would never think that!” He’s certain he’s as red as a tomato as he watches Geralt’s lips twitch into an amused smile and Jaskier groans, tossing some small pebbles across the fire at the Witcher, “You’re horrible, dear Witcher. You’re going to send me to an early grave.”

“Guess I’ll have to protect you,” Geralt shrugs with a grin, “Can’t have you dying on me, after all. Not right after we finally got our acts together.”

Jaskier tries to groan again but it ends in a laugh as he covers his burning face with his hands. They’ll have time to figure things out and actually talk later; but, for right now, he’s just glad he hasn’t lost his best friend while gaining a suitor.

#the witcher #geraskier #fanfiction #ficlet #my writing #prompt #pre-slash

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 14)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

“So then,” Patton was saying. “We ran to the stables.”

“We went to gazebo first,” Logan cut in.

“Right, we tried to go to the gazebo first,” Patton corrected, “but Mr. Deknis was over there tending to the tomatoes, and we knew he’d tell Mama the second he saw us. So, then we turned around and went to the stables.”

Virgil tilted his head, listening to the story Patton was telling. Patton was not the best storyteller. He tended to get lost in the middle and embellish, though Logan always corrected him. It was still very entertaining to watch though because he got incredibly animated. He’d even toppled himself over in excitement a couple of times.

Virgil squeezed the small pillow he had in his lap. He… wasn’t 100% sure what was going on. Logan and Patton had settled him on the blanket covered ground near Logan’s bed and proceeded to feed him snacks and talk about a lot of different things. It had started with them talking about what they’d done that day, and when Patton had made reference to something Virgil hadn’t understood, the two of them ended up talking about things from their childhood.

Virgil found himself entranced by their stories about playing in and running around the castle. It was all so different from what Virgil had experienced.

“…but, right as we were about to get to the ladder to climb up into the hay loft, Logan tripped!” Patton said, arms whipping around him. “He fell into a container of grain for the horses and it spilled all over the place. He tried to get up but grabbed the edge of the water trough and apparently it wasn’t very secure because it fell over and soaked him. So, then he was wet and covered in grain. He looked hilarious.”

“I did not!” Logan protested, but it did not sound like all of the other times he’d corrected Patton’s stories that night.

Patton looked over at him. “You did! You woke up the cute stable hand and he laughed himself silly at you, and by the time we got you even partially cleaned up, your dad had already found us. That’s how we got caught.”

“I have no recollection of these events,” Logan clearly lied, his cheeks a bit flushed.

“Liar,” Patton claimed. “You complained about picking grain out of your sheets for weeks.”

“No,” Logan growled.

“Yes! It’s okay. It was a good laugh.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed on him, and he looked pissed, but a second later, his expression lightened up. “You know what else was a ‘good laugh’?” he asked.

There was a second of silence before…

“Don’t you dare Logan.”

Logan looked Patton directly in the eye. “Patton was thirteen,” Logan started, but was interrupted the next moment when Patton lobbed a pillow at his head. Logan grabbed the pillow and leaned forward to smack Patton back with it. “He was thirteen and had just ‘discovered boys’ as his mother and my father called it when they attempted to explain his behavior to me. The focus of said ‘discovering’ at the time was the son of an ambassador from Lamir” who was staying for the summer, a seventeen-year-old boy by the name Bernardo.”

Virgil flinched back as Patton suddenly threw himself across the semicircle they’d made with their bodies to tackle Logan to the ground. He watched as they ineffectually wrestled on the ground for a few seconds before Logan, voice strained, continued to speak, while battling Patton’s hands away from his mouth.

“Patton’s only knowledge about flirting… ow… at that point was laughing at everything someone said and touching their arms and shoulders.” Logan managed to flip himself onto his stomach which was a horrible move as far as Virgil was concerned. It put him at a disadvantage to get out of the pin. However, Patton just kept reaching for his mouth and didn’t bare down on his neck to try to cut off his oxygen like Virgil expected. So, perhaps it was a rational move. “Our parents were speaking leaving Patton, Bernardo, and I in the garden,” Logan mumbled into the ground. “Bernardo said something ‘funny’ and Patton went to slap his shoulder while laughing but shoved too hard… Patton did you just lick my face?!”

“And I’ll do it again if you don’t shut up!” Patton threatened. That was a… weird fighting strategy.

Logan paused to consider his options. “He shoved Bernardo into the fountain and when Bernardo asked him why he did that, he ran away and wouldn’t talk to him the rest of the summer!” Logan rushed out.

Patton reached over and grabbed the nearest pillow, proceeding to whack him viciously in the back of the head. Logan was lucky the nearest object was a pillow and not something any sturdier. “It’s not funny!” Patton yelled, smacking him even more, which was when Virgil realized Logan was laughing despite the pinning and pillow pummeling. “It’s not!” Patton said. “I really liked him!!”

“He was seventeen!” Logan said. “It was never going to happen!”

Patton groaned and rolled off of Logan to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. “But he had so many muscles,” Patton said. “He probably could have thrown me 10 yards.”

“And that is… a benefit?” Logan asked, rolling over onto his side to face him.

“You don’t. Get me.” Patton tilted his head to look at Virgil. “Anyway,” he said. “That is the story of how I died at 13.”

Virgil stared at him, and Patton’s forehead crinkled looking at him.

“Is something wrong, honey?” he asked.

 “What was that?” Virgil asked.

“What was what?”

Virgil just blinked at him. Patton seemed to think for a moment.

“Oh, did you think we were fighting?” Patton asked. “Like, really fighting?”

“You weren’t fighting?” Virgil asked.

“No, sweetie,” Patton said. “We were just playing.” He popped up into a sitting position. “Well, play fighting, but emphasis on play!”

Virgil looked over at Logan for confirmation. “No one is harmed nor was there any intention to harm each other,” he assured.

Patton grabbed the pillow he’d been smacking Logan with. “Like this!” he said. “Bap.” Unlike how he’d smacked Logan ruthlessly, he basically just touched Virgil’s shoulder with it.

Virgil squinted at him.

“Bap!” Patton said again, smacking him once more, this time with a little bit more force and on the cheek. Virgil’s nose scrunched up. “Pillow fight!”

“Pillow fight?”

“You try,” he said, pointing to the pillow in Virgil’s lap.

Virgil glanced down at the bands around his wrist. “Um…” he said. “I don’t think I can?”

“Oh, right,” Patton said with a frown. He bit his lip and glanced over at Logan. “Maybe…”

“Ill-advised,” Logan said.

“But…” Patton said. “Pillow fight.”

“We would have to be very cautious and make sure there were no weapons in the area.”

“No weapons but pillows!”

“Fine,” Logan relented to whatever was going on. “Let’s clear the area.” Virgil watched them with mounting confusion as they removed everything within a few meters radius of him except for pillows and blankets.

“There!” Patton said after a minute. “All done!”

“What are you doing?” Virgil said.

“We’re going to have a pillow fight,” Patton said.

“But I…”

“We’ll temporarily allow your restraints to be in the third setting like when you’re in the closet.”

Were they serious? Were they stupid? Virgil could have killed them dozens of times with the second setting and now they were giving him even more range of motion?

“You have to promise not to try to hurt anyone though,” Patton said. Virgil stared at him dumbly, as Patton held out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Patton nodded solemnly. “We lock pinky fingers and make a promise. It’s the most binding promise in the universe.”

Virgil looked at his finger, confused. He’d never heard of that type of deal. “What kind of magic is it?”

“No magic,” Patton said. “Just friendship.” Virgil tilted his head but brought his hand up so Patton could twine their fingers together. “Now, promise you won’t hurt anyone.”

“I promise I won’t hurt anyone,” he said.

“It’s a deal!” said Patton, squeezing Virgil’s finger with his own briefly before drawing away. “I trust you.” Virgil felt a rush of something that was no type of magic he’d ever come into contact before but was definitely far more powerful.

Logan came over to them and waved his hand over the restraints on Virgil. They buzzed slightly and Virgil looked between them. “So, I just hit you with pillows?”

“Try not to hit too hard near the face, and Lo and I should probably take off our glasses before we start, but yeah,” Patton said, taking his glasses off as he said it. It was yet another foolish move on his part. “It’s fun, and it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay…” Virgil said.

“I will demonstrate,” Logan said as he took a pillow and smacked Patton in the stomach.

“Hey! No fair!” Patton giggled. “We haven’t started yet!” This did not deter Logan however, as he continued to smack Patton with a pillow.

“On the contrary,” he said. “It has started, and we’re getting you first.”

“No,” Patton whined, but the way he crumpled to the ground under the onslaught seemed far too staged to make Virgil worry. He didn’t even try to curl up into a ball or protect his head, just taking the hits and giggling.

Logan looked up at Virgil and motioned with his head. Virgil inched over and looked down at Patton. Logan slowed for a few moments. “Go on,” he urged.

Virgil bit his lip and reached forward to smack Patton lightly with his pillow which seemed to do nothing to him but renew his peels of giggles. From there, it was easy to continue. Logan picked up the pace of his strikes and he and Virgil proceeded to ‘fight’ Patton until he couldn’t breathe through his laughter and pushed the pillows away, curling up on his side to recover. Virgil took the cue from Logan to cease their attack.

“Now what?” Virgil asked when Patton sat up.

“Now I get vengeance!” Patton said, popping to his feet and smacking Logan in the face. “Help me Virgil!” So, Virgil turned on Logan and he and Patton gave the prince the same treatment. Then, because it was only fair, it was Virgil’s turn, though they were a lot more careful with him then they’d been with each other, and really Patton spent more of the time checking in on Virgil then actually hitting him with the pillow. It was nice. Fun. And when Virgil pushed them away, they pulled back.

Then, it was Patton’s turn again and they went around teaming up on each other and sometimes just smacking at each other at random.

Eventually, they slowed, and all ended up laying near each other on the floor.

“Well, that made me hungry,” Patton said, sitting up and stretching. “I asked Mama to make us a bunch of mini sandwiches. I’ll go get them.”

He hopped to his feet to walk over to where they’d stored the food earlier in those little glowing magical balls Logan had for food preservation.

Logan and Virgil sat up too, and Virgil offered him his wrists.

“Right,” Logan said with a blink. He made a motion and Virgil could feel the magic weighing down his hands once again. He’d almost forgotten, Virgil thought with an internal sigh. They’d given an assassin free range of motion, had a pillow fight with him, and almost forgotten to restrain him again. What was Virgil going to do with these idiots?

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 15

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas #adriana writes #not pieces fic #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #assassination attempt #knives #implied/referenced child abuse #torture mentioned #captivity