#or y’know shooting him in the back in some remote place and never make his death public ever

[soldier-lodbrok]

If Shinra would catch him and make a live TV event of his execution, you know Glenn would use his last breath to yell something along the lines of “Death to Shinra - Freedom to the people!”

#.ooc #in a very dramatic mood today #but the aesthetic slaps #they’d be better off gagging him #or y’know shooting him in the back in some remote place and never make his death public ever

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #female reader #monster romance #orc x reader #angst #orc

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ heavy ✦

this chapter pairing; snakehybrid!woozi&bunnyhybrid!dino x reader

genre&warnings; Snake Eyes!AU, threesome, dom!jihoon, oral(fem receiving), fingering, creampies, cum eating/cum sharing, breeding kink, dirty talk, but also a bit of crack lbr, jihoon and chan being little shits 😩😭.

notes; you don’t have to have read Snake Eyes to read this! It’s not part of the main plot! 💕🐍 also the--☠️ draft for this was literally from 2013 and I literally ran it through the hot setting on the washing machine and put it in the dryer 3 times to get it to what it is today ☠️ Also!!! the final chapter of Monster Mash!!! omg!!! I can’t believe it’s done AND to end it with a Snake Eyes au chapter!! 😭😩 Enjoy!! Have a great rest of the weekend!!! I love u!! Happy Halloween!! 🎃👻 💕

word count; ~4300

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

it’s heavy;

heavy how i want you so bad

heavy when it hits me so fast;

heavy and it’s driving me mad

that i’m never gonna give you up!

“OH MY FUCK--GOD!” A shrill voice cuts through the nearly empty living room; three forms huddled together on the sofa as the horror movie continued on the tv screen.

“Are you serious right now, Jihoon? Nothing even happened yet and you screamed!!” You tease.

You’d come to learn that Jihoon quite actually hated horror films.

And apparently so did Chan.

Your eyes scan over Jihoon’s frame squished into your side as his own eyes leave the tv for the 60th time that night; his grip on your waist tightening as he digs his face into your shoulder. “I can’t do it, I’m trying to look at the corner of the screen but I just know something’s going to pop out, I just know it, I--”

“Hyung, she’s right you know, nothing’s even--FUCK WHAT WAS THAT!?” Chan jolts at the screen, his own arms tangling with Jihoon’s around your waist in fear as the demon in the movie re-emerges from a dark closet.

You sigh, wondering why Minghao and the others hadn’t replied to any of your calls and messages; leaving you alone with Jihoon and Chan on this dark and rainy Halloween night. And you loved Jihoon with your whole heart and taking care of cute Chan was always fun but everyone being missing and unreachable seemed a little peculiar. 

Even to you.

“You guys, it’s not even real. Look, c’mon, nobody is going to pop out of the closet later. I’m sure Mingyu would kill whatever came crawling out of the closet Jihoon and Chan, do you even have a closet for demons to come out of?” You tried to lighten the mood and reassure them as you pry their clammy fingers from your midsection.

They simultaneously shoot you a glare, crossing their arms as you separate yourself from their bodies.

“I really don’t get how you two are so easily scared by these horrible movies!”

Chan pouts, “Well hybrids exist so surely demons do too!” You shoot him a dumbfounded look, “That literally has zero correlation.” 

“Whatever, I’m gonna grab more popcorn and I’ll be back.” Jihoon grumbles; eyes avoiding the screen as he scurries off to the kitchen.

The horror movie continues to play, small whimpers and screams coming from both of the boys on either of your sides.

You still don’t understand why they thought watching a horror movie on a rainy night was a good idea but they were determined to finish it by this point. And you, on the other hand, were getting bored. Horror movies weren’t that bad for you and you slept perfectly fine afterwards so you weren’t worried.

Unfortunately for Jihoon and Chan, that was not the case.

Jihoon had cocooned himself into a blanket with only his eyes peeking out and Chan had stolen one of the sofa pillows and had used it to hide behind when a scary scene was taking place. Biting your lip, you turn to each of them, watching as their eyes stay glued to the TV.

“Hey, if you two are so scared, why don’t we just turn the movie off. You’ll regret it if you can’t sleep later… And Minghao might kick my ass if he knows I let this happen to Chan.” You offer. Jihoon clears his throat, agreeing that maybe it was a bad idea to continue while Chan already started to reach for the remote tucked under the mass of snacks nearby.

As soon as he hits the power button, a bolt of lightning flashes outside causing the power to suddenly blow.

“Fuck! The demon’s here, I knew it, it’s because we watched the movie! We’re done, oh god, I haven’t even lived that long and Minghao hasn’t even taken me to a theme park yet and I--”, Chan cries, throwing the remote control haphazardly across the room as he tugs his fluffy ears down in panic. He immediately turns to you, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he continues to ramble incoherently against your skin.

On your other side, Jihoon has gone completely silent as one of his hands searched the dark for one of yours; his eyes completely closed in fear of seeing something in the dark that he didn’t want to see. You attempted to wrap an arm around each of them as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, their forms drawing even closer and molding to your body.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m shocked that you two are so scared of the dark right now.”

The only real light coming in was from whatever little bit of moonlight was visible through the clouds as you stared at the blobs glued on your sides. “Let’s be fair here. We just watched a horror film where things lurked in the dark, can you cut us some slack!?” Jihoon scream-whispers as Chan nods against your shoulder, “Jihoon-hyung’s right, I’m not normally scared of the dark!”

You pat him on the head, running your fingers through his hair as he leans into your touch.

Jihoon unwraps from your hold a few moments later, his eyes adjusting to the dark against his will as he clears his throat.

“We--Maybe we just need a distraction, that’s all… I’m sure the power will come back on soon, or maybe one of the others will come see if we’re ok. We just… We need to find something to do or else our minds will wander.” He suggests. You nod in the dark, raising an eyebrow, “Like, a game or something?” Jihoon hums back an agreement. The three of you sit in silence trying to think of anything to play but nothing comes to mind.

“I can’t think of anything, Jihoon.”

Chan sighs, raising his head from your shoulder. “We could play that one game, y’know, ‘are you nervous?’ I heard Minghao-hyung talking about it! All we do is touch or do things to each other until someone chickens out! It could be anything!” You could hear a smile in his voice that almost made you smile until you heard Jihoon scoff.

“That sounds like fun until something grabs you and it’s not me or her, Chan.” Jihoon deadpanned.

You can only grimace knowing that comment went straight to Chan’s head. “Why on god’s green earth would you say that, hyung!?” An exasperated noise leaves Chan’s mouth as he lets go of you, arms flailing off of the sofa before he gasps and balls up again. “Oh my god, what if something grabbed me just now, would you have done anything to save me?” You had no idea who that question was directed to but you replied with a simple “yes”.

“Are we going to play or what? The more I sit here, the more I start seeing demons in the kitchen over there, to be honest.” Jihoon was getting restless, his fingers gripping your shirt. “We don’t have anything to do anyway, we need to get our minds off this power outage, and the potential demon. I think Chan especially needs it, he seems to be losing it more than I am.”

You can only nod in agreement; after all, what could go wrong. “Should I start then?”

It’s silent for a beat before Chan speaks up. “I’ll do it!”

Even in the dark, you can see Chan sitting up on his knees as you turn to face him slightly. He pushes your shoulder, causing you to crash into Jihoon; your back to Jihoon’s chest as his legs open wider to accommodate your figure. It’s a little uncomfortable on the sofa, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind. “Are you nervous?” You can almost hear the smirk in Chan’s voice and although you were confused with the shift in the atmosphere and maybe a tiny bit concerned at where this was leading, you didn’t voice it.

“Not at all, Channie. Should I go next?”

Jihoon and Chan both make noises of agreement as you considered your options. You really didn’t know what to do, so you simply placed your palm down onto Jihoon’s sweatpant clad thigh and squeezed. A garbled noise leaves his lips and you can hear the stutter in his breath. “Jihoonie, are you nervous?” He’s silent for a little too long before he replies with a slightly breathless ‘no' and asks if it was his turn.

You nod, feeling his arms come around your waist as he rests his head in the crook of your neck; lips lightly trailing up behind your left ear as he whispers a simple “nervous yet?” before kissing the shell of your ear.

You had to admit, this was getting a little too hot too fast and you weren’t sure if this was the nature of the game but you weren’t mad about it.

“Um, n-no…”

Chan takes the lead, lips easing into a wide smile. “I’ll go next!” His fingers rests on your bare thighs, slightly prying your legs open as he makes space for himself between them; careful to avoid grabbing onto Jihoon’s legs.

By nature, you clamp your legs shut, trapping Chan’s hands in between as you yelp. “Hold on, wait, wait, wait, what is going on here!?” Your face burns red in the dark, almost glad the power was out so that they couldn’t see even though you already know Jihoon can feel the way your body warms up.

Neither of them knew how to answer, so you sat in silence; only your steady breaths heard as you sat between Jihoon’s legs with Chan’s hands trapped between your still clamped legs. 

Chan clears his throat as he attempts to pull back his hands from between your legs. “I--um, uh, it--it was Jihoon-hyung’s idea! He told me to tell Minghao-hyung I was sleeping over and to not check in! And then he called Mingyu and told them to not check in either!”

“What!? Me!? Don’t you dare pin this on me, brat! We planned this together!”

Your mouth hangs open in shock, eyes threatening to fall out of your skull as they continue to argue. “I didn’t wanna do it! I told hyung it wouldn’t work! I told him we should’ve done it differently!” Chan cries; tossing his head back dramatically.

“Okay, both of you shut up! Jihoon, what is going on!?”

The snake hybrid groans from behind you, arms still locked tight around your waist. “Listen… I--It wasn’t supposed to go like this, okay? We were gonna finish the movie and then ask you if--if you wanted to, y’know, play with both of us. And don’t try to deny it, I know you think Chan is cute. I just wanted to treat you to something nice.”

Chan wiggles his fingers, still trapped in between your thighs. “But then it got all spooky instead and the power went out...” The bunny hybrid mumbles.

You could feel your body heating up at the thought of being between Jihoon and Chan. And in truth, you’d thought about it maybe once, but it was a fleeting thought that’d left your mind just as quickly as it’d entered.

“I--I mean, uh, I mean, I’m okay with this b-but Jihoon, are you really okay with this? You don’t have to--”

“I’m fine with this, too.” Jihoon cut in, his arms squeezing your waist tighter.

A thankful sigh escapes Chan’s lips as he chuckles, “Thank god. I’m not gonna lie, I’m already a little hard....” You can see his face clearly now that your eyes completely adjusted to the dark.

“We literally haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Shut up, hyung!”

“Ngh… C--Chan…”

Your fingers tangle into his hair, careful of his ears as he dips his tongue into your entrance. Jihoon continues to nuzzle at your neck, appreciating your warmth as the younger hybrid works your body up for the both of them.

“She likes it when you use your fingers, y’know. And if you curl them just right, it makes her feel really, really good.” Jihoon guides. His lips ease into a lazy smirk when Chan listens eagerly and brings his fingers to your folds; using your wetness to coat them before he positions his index and middle fingers at your entrance. “Can she take two at once?” Chan asks, voice almost eerily innocent to which Jihoon chuckles under his breath - the action making you shiver at how easily the two of them seemed to get along so well in this situation.

“Of course, she can. She’s always so good about taking my cock. I bet I could slide right into her tight ‘lil pussy right now. Couldn���t I, baby?”

You nod shakily as your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of Chan’s fingers sinking into you slowly. He curls them almost immediately and you mewl and squirm as Jihoon’s grip on you tightens. “Oh, she’s so tight around my fingers already, hyung~” Chan murmurs. He thrusts his fingers into your hot cunt, tongue on your clit when he finds that you seem to like that best.

“Hmm~ Look at your favorite bunny hybrid trying to please you. Fingers knuckle deep while he teases your clit with his tongue. Are you gonna cum for him?” You let out a choked noise at Jihoon’s words and your fingers lock tighter into Chan’s hair when he taps your g-spot, wiggling his fingers inside of you to stretch you out.

“Oh, g-god, yes!”

Chan sucks your clit between his lips and Jihoon has to hold you down tighter as you try to grind against Chan’s face.

Jihoon’s fingers start to roam and squeeze you through your shirt; delicate fingers pinching your nipples as you mewl at the sensations they were making you feel. It was one thing to have Jihoon’s hands all over you but now that Chan was added to the mix, you found yourself getting addicted to the excitement that flooded your senses.

“A-ah, Chan…” The sound of you softly calling his name has him immediately pulling off of you, lips glistening with your wetness when he peers up at you through the dark.

“Hyung, am I allowed to fuck her?” Chan questions quietly. The snake hybrid bites the inside of his cheek.

His possessive nature screamed no, but the other part of him already felt his cock throbbing at the thought of you getting fucked by someone else and getting filled with so much cum from the both of them that it’d be spilling out of you.

Jihoon’s throat feels dry at the thought alone.

“Yes. Fuck her tight ‘lil cunt and fill her up with cum. We’ll breed her so fuckin’ good she’ll be begging us both for more.” Chan giggles innocently; a complete contrast to the way his eyes burn with unadulterated lust when he leans in close to your face.

“Ah~ Minghao-hyung always complains about me rutting against the pillows. Says my libido is too high, but I just can’t help it~ Finally, I get to fuck your tight cunt and I get to cum inside you and fill you up with my cum instead of just using my hand and making a mess on the sheets!” He grins.

Christ, Chan was really oblivious to the way his words affected you.

“Ngh, please, one of you j-just fuck me already~” You whine.

Jihoon’s fingers tug on your shirt, helping you lift it off of you as you’re finally completely bare to them both. His fingers immediately go back to teasing your chest as Chan sits up proper between your legs, pushing his sweats and underwear down. “Hyung, are you sure this is a one time only thing?”

You mewl as Jihoon pinches your nipples hard; nails digging into his clothed thighs in return. “We’ll talk about it later, Chan.” He replies easily.

Chan wraps a firm hand around his cock, moaning as he spreads the precum all down his shaft. “Mmh, I really need to fuck you now.” He mutters.

“D-do it…” Whimpering, you try to spread your legs a little more given the small space. “Mmh, m-maybe taking it to the bedroom, ah, might’ve been a better i-idea.”You mutter.

 Chan pouts, trying to get comfortable as he rubs the head of his cock through your folds, tapping your clit as you cry out in pleasure. “No, what if something grabbed one of us on the way there?” He retorts.

Jihoon laughs under his breath, eyes focused on the way your chest rises and falls in anticipation.

Chan lets out a shaky moan as he sinks his cock into your tight warmth, brows furrowing when he can already tell that he won’t be able to hold himself back. “Ah, you’re so--so tight…” He whines. His cock was a little shorter than Jihoon’s but just as thick to stretch you out to your liking.

He gives you a second to adjust before he skillfully draws his hips back and slams his cock into you. “Fu---fuck, she feels so good, I--I don’t think I can h-hold back…” His hands are on your thighs keeping your spread; biting into his bottom lip. “Ngh, please--please tell me I can fuck y-you harder!”

Jihoon smiles, snaking a hand down to your clit as he starts to roll the nub between his fingers slowly. It makes your pussy clench down harder onto Chan who lets out a choked whine at the feeling of your walls clamping down onto him in a vice grip. “Well, baby? What do you want? Tell your cute ‘lil bunny.”

Chan’s cock curves into your g-spot perfectly and with Jihoon’s fingertips teasing your clit, your head already starts to feel fuzzy. “Mmh… ah, y-yeah, fuck me h-harder, Chan… I wanna feel y-you...”

He whispers quiet thank you’s into the dark; hips slamming into you as Jihoon keeps you locked in his hold. Soft whines and moans spill from Chan’s lips and for a moment, it makes you wonder if he always sounded like this when he was alone and rutting against his pillow.

And almost as if Jihoon can read your mind, his sultry, lust filled eyes watch Chan’s cock fucking into you as he whispers, “How’s she feel, Chan? Better than rubbing your cock against the sheets? Or how about your hand?” The younger hybrid whines, cock throbbing as he already feels himself close to an orgasm.

“She---She, hah, feels so w-warm and wet… S-Shit, I’m going to think a-about this whenever I, ah, need to g-get off…” He licks his dry lips, committing to memory how your pussy felt around him. “It’s n-not gonna be the s-same when I’m alone…”

“Enjoy it while you can, bunny~” Jihoon teases. He takes his fingers off of your clit, nipping at the shell of your ear. “As for you, don’t cum, baby.” You nod shakily, realizing that at least that much was still only reserved for Jihoon.

Instead, Jihoon continues to provokes Chan, soft giggles on his lips when he sees the bunny hybrid struggling to stave off his orgasm. “Ah, hurry and fill her up with your cum~ I bet it’s been so long since you’ve cum, huh? You probably have a lot ready just to breed her tight little cunt too.”

His own words prove to do damage to himself when he feels his cock throbbing in his sweats; he really needed Chan to hurry up. And Chan doesn’t fare any better himself; airy whines and groans filling the air as he feels his abdomen tightening the more Jihoon continues to speak.

“Fu--fuck, I’m--I’m cumming!” Chan cries, hips pistoning into you at a breakneck speed as he fucks his cum deeper and deeper into you. Your body jerks between them both, choked whines of your own mixing with his as you do your best to not cum either which proves hard when Jihoon starts to coax you too.

“Mm, bet it feels nice and warm, huh, baby? Hot cum filling up your ‘lil cunt, waiting for me to cum inside you too so you’re full of both of us.”

“Jihoon…” You whisper, hips moving against Chan’s as he rides out the remnants of his orgasm. You can already feel the cum sliding out of you from around Chan’s cock and your mind turns to putty at the thought of Jihoon still fucking you and making you cum.

“Alright, bunny, time for you to move.” Chan nods slowly in return, thrusting into you one more time as the two of you share a moan. “Okay, okay, move!” Jihoon grumbles.

He realized it’d take days if not weeks to get Chan’s smell off of you. 

Not that it was a problem. He always had ideas in store to make it easier.

Chan slides his cock from inside of you, watching as the cum drips down onto the sofa in large globs. He licks his lips, already itching to get his hands back onto you as he starts to move back.

Jihoon slowly unwraps his arms from around you and moves to switch places with Chan who tugs his own sweatpants back up. “Can I take a shower after this?” He asks quietly.

The snake hybrid exhales harshly through his nose as he replaces Chan between your legs, pushing his sweats and underwear down in one swift motion. “We’ll all go shower after this, now hold her still.” Chan nods, ears flopping atop his head; satisfied for now.

He wraps his arms around your midsection much like Jihoon had done, chin nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he watches Jihoon running his cock through the mix of your wetness and Chan’s cum. “Mmm, hyung’s gonna make sure our cum stays inside your hot cunt~ ‘Cause you need to be bred, y’know? Ah, Jihoon-hyung’s so lucky~ He gets to breed your pretty pussy whenever he wants~”

Jihoon’s jaw clenches tight, a hand placed firm on your thigh as he uses Chan’s cum as lubrication when he eases his cock into you. “Fuck, you’re so wet!” He growls; already starting a quick pace as he chases his high.

He’d waited long enough.

“Ah, you’re so warm too, you feel so good, baby…” Jihoon pauses, licking his lips as his eyes meet yours in the darkness. “And all mine, right?” He thrusts into you particularly hard for emphasis; almost daring you to say anything different.

“G-god, yes, yes! I’m y-yours, ah!” Chan slithers a hand down your torso, fingertips on your sticky and swollen clit as he starts to pinch and roll the nub between his fingertips. You clench around Jihoon; overwhelmed with the urge to cum as they both stimulate your body.

“Why don’t you cum for Jihoon-hyung, hmm? Cum around his cock and milk him for all he’s got~” You mewl at Chan’s words, toes curling as you and Jihoon both feel each other close to the edge. Jihoon’s cock curves into you perfectly and hits all of the right spots inside of you that have you bucking your hips to match his thrusts.

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel the tension in your body threatening to snap at any second.

“Jihoon, I---”

“I know, baby. S’okay. Cum with me.” His voice is breathy and raw as he, too, feels his cock throbbing inside your tight heat.

Chan and Jihoon work in tandem as your rushed cries of Jihoon’s name start to roll off of your tongue and his thrusts become erratic; groans on his own lips as the two of you cum at the same time. Jihoon doesn’t stop his quick pace either, instead, doubling it as he fucks his and Chan’s cum further into your pussy.

“Shit, that’s right, hyung. Breed her fuckin’ cunt.” Growling, Chan pinches your clit as you let out a high pitched whine.

“J--Jihoon, please, please, pl--please b-breed me! Get m-me full of your c-cum!” You cry; delirium mildly settling in as his hot cum paints your walls and spills out of you from around his cock.

“Ngh, that’s---that’s right, baby. Beg me to fill you up, hah, just like you like it.” Jihoon starts to slow down his thrusts just as Chan starts to ease his fingers off of your clit and you sob quietly at the bliss that continues to wash over your body.

Your chest rises and falls in deep breaths as the remnants of your orgasm start to ebb off and you immediately slump against Chan’s warm chest as the tiredness starts to overtake you. “Fuh--fuck, ‘m so full o-of cum…” You whine.

The two hybrids can only groan in unison.

Jihoon starts to slide his cock out of you; licking his lips when he sees how much cum spills from your spent pussy. “Ah, such a waste.” He comments.

“Wait, wait!” Chan catches your attention and Jihoon’s when he starts to move from behind you. Jihoon shoots the bunny hybrid a confused look when he ushers for Jihoon to move again. “Just trust me, hyung.”

They switch places one last time as you rest against Jihoon’s clothed chest, eyes focusing on Chan who kneels in between your legs.

“Hey, can I kiss her?”

You blush as Jihoon narrows his eyes at the other male. “Only one time. Make it good.”

Chan smirks as he immediately dives headfirst in between your thighs; lapping up the cum that spills out of you and onto the sofa. You latch your fingers into his hair by reflex, sharp cries on your lips from the oversensitivity as Chan collects the mixed cum on his tongue.

Jihoon has to admit, he’s a little impressed.

Once Chan deems it enough, he holds the cum in his mouth as he pulls away from your cunt and your hands fall from his hair.

You watch through hazy eyes as he stops when he’s face to face with you; smiling at you angelically. He leans in, lips pressed firm against your own as you moan into the kiss. And once your lips part, Chan’s quick to push the cum into your mouth; a little dripping down your chin at the messy way his tongue pushes it in. 

He pulls away once all of the salty substance is out of his mouth; a trail of saliva and cum connecting your lips as Jihoon whistles in amazement.

“Wow, can’t say I saw that one coming.”

Your cheeks flush and Jihoon enjoys the warmth that radiates from you in between their bodies. 

Chan smiles at you innocently again; reverting back to his sweet bunny-like nature.

“Can we find some candles and go shower now, please?”

#snakehybrid!woozi #woozi smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #dino scenarios #dino imagines #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #monstermash!svt #hybrid!svt #hybrid!seventeen

[rockthingsbymeg]

Rockin’ around the Christmas tree

Guns N’ Roses Christmas special - fic no. 6

Pairing: Slash | Saul Hudson x fem!reader

Summary: based of the prompt - “Person A is decorating the tree and refuses to let anyone else help because the tree needs to be perfect.”

Info: Fluff; 2120 words; typical Christmas stuff;

A/N: Last Christmas fic of the day angels. Have a good 2021!

It wasn't unusual for Slash to wake up and find Y/N already awake, either still laying by his side or going around the house doing whatever she needed to do. He was a heavy sleeper, so that had never bothered him, and that day it hadn't either.

Being awake before Slash, however, didn't exactly make Y/N an early bird. Anyone up before midday was up before Slash.

This time, however, it was different. Around half-past eight in the morning, Slash woke up, groggy and grumpy, with Y/N already out of bed. The bedroom door was fully closed, which meant Y/N wasn't coming back to bed and didn't want to wake him up. When they were asleep, the door was always left ajar or fully open, so none of them would accidentally go against it while trying to go to the bathroom or grab a glass of water in the middle of the night.

When he had rolled on the bed to look at the clock, he had groaned so deeply and loudly it had actually hurt his dry throat, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. After he woke up, he couldn’t fall back asleep unless Y/N was by his side, which he guessed wouldn’t happen that day.

He didn’t understand why on earth she was up so early, but instead of thinking about it, he just rolled on his side, stretched like their little black kitten did while waking up, and then rolled out of bed, bare feet meeting the hard, cold wood floor and sending shivers up his body. Either way, he didn’t throw on a pair of socks or slippers and picked up a fluffy robe that Y/N had gotten him, wrapping it around himself and making his way out of his room.

Every blind in the house had been open, and the bright sunlight shinning against the snow resting on the windowsills burned his eyes, causing a groan to leave his lips and his hand to immediately shoot up to cover his eyes.

He kept walking, slowly becoming more aware of Frank Sinatra's voice mumbling lowly on the lower floor. It was so pleasant, deep, and rich in his early morning grogginess, that it was working as a lullaby, making his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Slash fought them open with much cost as his bare feet began leading him down the stairs, a small, black cursed kitten greeting him happily as it walked in circles, its paws still too small to get him up the steps.

A smile stretched across Slash's face as he made it to the bottom and picked up the youngest member of his and Y/N's furry family. His calloused hands patted the tiny head and scratched behind his ears, smile widening at the soft, small purring sounds reverberating against his chest, where Slash had made the kitten lean against.

Soon enough, however, instead of having one kitten to pet and cuddle, Slash had that one and four more cats meowing at him, demanding their own share of attention.

Slash sat down on the last step of the staircase and let his cats climb closer to him to give him their good morning, curling themselves against the plush material of the robe or lightly craving their nails into the skin of his hands, trying to get him to pet them.

He had sat there for a bit, doing his best to give them all an equal share of attention, until all the heads turn towards their living room, two of the cats leaving to follow the sound and start meowing again to the other source of cuddles and pets.

Y/N kneeled down to run her hands over the fur on their back and then underneath their little chins, smiling widely at them and giving them each a kiss on the nose before taking a seat by Slash’s side on the staircase and leaning her head on his shoulder. Her head tilted up, looking into his eyes, as his tilted down, smiling widely up at her before pressing their lips together gently, one, two, three small pecks before a long, slow kiss.

“I didn't wake you up, did I?” Y/N asked as they pulled apart, lacing their hands together and stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

“Nah, you're fine. Jus’ woke up all of a sudden and y’know I can't sleep without you there...” A soft blush darkened the color of his cheeks underneath his bed-head and the sight made Y/N's heart flutter in her chest, even if it was probably the thousandth time she had seen it.

“I know, baby.” She laid another kiss on his lips and then one on his nose, pulling back only far enough to be able to speak. “Why don't I fix you some food and you eat while I finish what I was doing, and then we'll crawl back under the covers?”

The idea sounded very much appealing to Slash, who eagerly nodded before moving his mouth to press a sweet, gentle kiss underneath her ear. “What, exactly, are you doin' this fucking early, on a Saturday?”

A small laugh rumbled from the back of her throat as she pressed a final kiss to his lips and got up, gently putting two of her cats down on the floor and making her way to the kitchen, passing by their living room to turn the music just slightly louder. “It's December 1st baby. You know what that means...”

Combining her answer, with Frank Sinatra's soothing voice and the sight of balled up Christmas lights on the corner, that he, somehow, hadn't noticed until now, gave him the answer he needed.

“I forgot what day it was...” He chuckled, putting all the cats on the floor before following her, sneaking a glance into the living room to see their dark green tree stand high and proud in the corner of the room, right by a shelf filled with little dinosaur replicas. Yeah, everything totally matched. “Do you want help with anything sweetheart?” He asked as he entered the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist as she faced the stove, the smell of eggs filling his nostrils and making his empty stomach groan loud and angry.

She chuckled at the noise and turned to him briefly to plant a kiss on his cheek, before shaking her head and turning to the stove once more. “You know I like to do it on my own. It needs to be perfect, the way I envisioned it...” She explained, just like every year when Slash asked if she needed help.

He smiled against her neck, nuzzling her skin before giving her a small kiss, pushing back to glance towards the slide-open doors that led to their backyard. “Just like you know I'll always ask this. It’s tradition.” He chuckled, both at his statement and at the sight of their two older dogs and their three pups playing around in the snow. “They're gonna be freezing when they come inside...”

“I told them that, they still barked that they wanted to go outside.” Slash could envision Y/N rolling her eyes while speaking in that fake disapproving tone, shaking her head slightly while still cooking his breakfast, waving a small spatula around as she spoke. “They're dumbasses, much like you.”

“Wha- I'm not a dumbass!” He argued in an equally fake offended tone, letting his arms fall from their previous place around her waist and slapping her ass with one hand, before hopping on the counter so he could see her face.

“Why, yes you are, my love.” Y/N’s eyes shone as she smiled at him, playful words spoken in a teasingly posh manner. “You're my favorite dumbass.”

Slash couldn’t help his own wide grin as he looked at her, leaning in to steal a long kiss, humming briefly against her lips at the taste of eggs on her tongue. “Don't tell Duff that you said that. Y’know he claimed the spot of favorite dumbass a long time ago.” Laughs rolled easily between their still slightly joined lips.

“I won't, don't worry.” She nodded as she pulled back, turning her attention once more to the stove and finishing his food, putting his eggs and bacon on a plate before handing it to him, along with a glass of orange juice. “Now, you eat that, so your stomach stops complaining, and I'll go finish the tree.” She laid a quick peck on his lips before turning away, robe swooshing behind her as she made her way into their living room.

Slash gathered everything on a tray and, rather than eating all alone in the kitchen, he placed all his food inside it and went to join Y/N, sitting on the couch and watching her move around.

Her hands moved gently as she wrapped the Christmas lights around the tree, leaving them turned on so the room shone with a soft golden light, along with the early morning light. It didn't take her long to finish that part, and soon enough she had picked up a box filled with dinosaur garlands. It had been something she had bought last year, doing her best to mix his love for anything remotely reptile with her love for traditional yet not “normal" decoration. Garlands were traditional, but dinosaur garlands... not so much, which was the perfect balance for her.

As soon as the garlands were laid down, came all the other ornaments. A box filled with red balls, each one decorated by an old drawing of Santa Claus, then a box filled with golden little starts, followed by one with white and green bells, and lastly, one of Slash's favorites, a box filled with small, plastic snakes, lizards, dragons, and whatnot, all with a string to their back so they could be hanging in the tree.

While Y/N busied herself around the tree, laying every single ornament with accurate precision to replicate the mental image she had conjured, a small smile on her face growing as the decoration came closer to being finished, humming along with Frank Sinatra under her breath, Slash had finished his breakfast, done the dishes, let their dogs in, started a fire so all of them would stay warm and gotten his guitar, softly strumming with the songs playing, until, like always, he began playing a melody of his own, overpowered by his own feelings and emotions.

He hadn't noticed how Y/N had turned off the background music and sat down on their coffee table. She was facing him, elbows on her knees and face in her hands, a smile so wide it had to hurt her. Her eyes glinted, both with the flames from the fireplace and with the unconditional, unyielding, undying, overwhelming love she felt for him.

It had been the same look since the first time they met.

Duff had brought her along to one of their shows, excited to introduce one of his closes friends to his bandmates. She was this slightly shy yet so lively, amazing girl, and Slash was, as much as he hated to admit it, swept off his feet after not much more than five minutes of conversation.

He was shy himself, never one to be able to hold eye contact for long, but whenever he did, it was the one occasion when he'd stare for longer than he could remember. The first time he looked into her eyes, they were so filled with a burning passion, a bit hazed from a few beers, admittedly, but so captivating. It was like a whole world, a whole galaxy was held inside them.

And what had taken him a while to realize, was how much deeper and lively that galaxy got when she was looking at him.

Once his eyes had lifted from the guitar and seen that exact same look in her eyes, he couldn’t stop his mouth from working faster than his brain. “You still look at me like the first day we met...”

A soft laugh left Y/N's lips. Not a mocking or condescending one at the softness of his words, an honest, love-filled one. She got up from the table and made the short distance to the couch, reaching over to gently take the guitar from his lap and taking its place. “Of course I do.” Her wide smile remained, both her hands coming up to cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “I still love you the exact same way. I always will.”

A smile grew on his face too, as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, pouring as much passion into the gesture as he did when playing guitar. “I’ll always love you too, baby.”

——

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, reblogs, comments and any kind of way you show me you liked this are endlessly appreciated💛

Requests are closed.

Taglist: @curly-hudson; @agroupiewhore; @littlemisscare-all; @metalheartofgold

#slash #slash x reader #slash x you #slash fluff #slash fanfic #slash imagine #saul hudson #saul hudson x you #saul hudson x reader #saul hudson fanfic #saul hudson fluff #saul hudson imagine #slash hudson #slash hudson x reader #slash hudson x you #slash hudson fluff #slash hudson fanfic #slash hudson imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses x you #guns n roses fluff #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses imagine #gnr #gnr x reader #gnr x you #gnr fluff #gnr fanfic #gnr imagine

[billiewena]

for the 100k fic celebration, here a portion of the “what if 10x05 had a sastiel agenda?” AKA lil shit sam/jealous dean destiel fic I first shared a while back! been having a lot of fun basically rewriting and expanding on the entire musical episode with new songs (and lots of cute kristen & siobhan moments because OF COURSE they’re still a couple.) it was really encouraging to see the positive response to it back then and it's been taking forever because of work/other writing but I’m so excited to have this one be the first full-length fics I ever post.

It starts with costumed teenagers locked in a tight embrace with absolutely no room for Jesus.

“What are they doing?”

Marie glances over her shoulder for only a brief second.

“Kids these days call it hugging,” she says slowly. Geez, it would’ve been less insulting for her to just outright say Wow, you’re old.

Except it’s not just any of the show’s stars hugging over there. One of them is the “Dean” who’d been mid-rehearsal when they arrived and looked more like Bieber than him with the blonde wig. And the other? Well, he would recognize that Columbo coat anywhere.

“Is that in the show?” he asks, pointing their way.

Marie quickly shakes her head at the accusation. “Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in a real life.”

He nods and lower his hand. Got it. That’s all it was. Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about—

“No, my play explores the nature of Sastiel.”

“The — wait, what?” he says, confused at once.

“Sastiel?” Marie pauses, giving him a second to figure it out. He doesn’t. “You know, the relationship between Sam and Castiel?”

Dean blinks.

“Sam and…C-Cas?”

“I know, I know. Edlund’s series never finished. I’m lucky I got these drafts. Ugh, it’s Midnight Sun all over again. But the love story is all in the subtext,” she says with confidence. “Can you believe there are people who still think Destiel is endgame? After everything that happened after the angels fell? After Gadreel? Please.”

He silently sounds out the word. Des-tiel? Wait…

“Ever since Cas came back from the dead and took on Sam’s pain, I knew. I just knew. Every one of their arcs had been parallel to each other’s from their fall from grace to the trials. And now with Dean gone, all they have…is each other.”

Marie sighs. “Besides, you can’t spell subtext without S-E-X.”

He coughs and nearly chokes on an asteroid-sized lump in his throat.

“I…uh. Yeah, th-that’s not…you know, I think I’ve seen enough,” Dean says with a forced smile. “Thank you for your, ah, time. I’ll, uh, we’ll follow up if we have questions about the missing persons case. I—alright.”

And with that he purses his lips, turns on his heel and walks away — nearly tripping over one of the stage chords as he does. Why are there are so many of them anyways? This is just some all-girls school production, not the goddamn West End.

He finds Sam in his natural nerd habitat (the tech booth) sifting through all the bins of A/V supplies.

“Yeah, not to interrupt the blast from the past here but it’s time for us to go,” he says, patting the door.

His brother shoots him an annoyed look but packs up and follows him out all the same. Not that Dean bothers to wait for him; no, he makes a beeline for the car as soon as he leaves the booth.

“Hey, what’s with the rush?” Sam calls after him as he runs to catch up with him at the school entrance.

“No rush,” he says shortly. “Just wanted to see what you found out before you got too lost in the nerd sauce over there.”

He doesn’t need to look back to know he’s on the receiving end of a Classic Sam Bitchface right now and continues to stomp his way through the parking lot.

“Well, no EMF, no hex bags. None of their props are remotely hinky. Talked to Maeve and all those extras in the auditorium.” Sam finally catches up and walks side-by-side with him now. “You have any more luck?”

“Nah. Ms. Chandler's office is just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She's probably just face down in a bar somewhere. Or a ditch. I did get to hear all about the director’s, ah, creative vision though,” Dean says, teeth gritted. “Apparently we go into space, I become a woman, and there’s even ninjas and robots!”

“Robots. Huh. Well, that’d definitely be a new one.”

“There’s no robots in Supernatural—”

“I-I know that,” Sam says in exasperation. “I just mean it’s, y’know, innovative. And Dean we’ve fought weirder. Remember the teddy bear? The fairies? The ballet shoes?”

“Well, you just wait until you hear about what she in store for you, Lover Boy,” he says.

And that makes Sam do an instant double-take.

“Uh, Lover Boy?”

“Yeah, your number one fan back there —” he says, gesturing back towards the school, “— was telling me all about the play’s, uh, love story between you and Cas. You got something you’ve been meaning to tell me or what?”

“The love story? Wait, what do you mean me and Cas?”

Dean scoffs, already in utter disbelief of the words he was about to say. “Like you and Cas, together. Together together? Romance of the ages the way she made it sound. Apparently it’s all in her play!”

To his surprise though, Sam just… laughs. “Well, I mean hey, that’s an improvement from the ones who wrote about me and you.”

“You got that right,” he agrees with a shudder. Meeting one Becky the Stalker was bad enough. Knowing she wasn’t alone and that she had an audience made it even worse. “She even had a portmanteau for you, dude. Like you’re some celebrities in a grocery store tabloid. Sass-tiel.”

“Sass-tiel?” He seems to seriously consider it but shrugs. “I don’t know. What about… Samstiel? CasSam? Cam? Mmm, maybe not that…”

Dean groans. “Really? That’s your issue with this?”

“Of course it’s not my issue,” Sam says. He stays pensive for a few more seconds until chuckling again to himself this time, as if he’s the only one in on a private joke. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Cas is great but…”

“Not your type?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. No, it’s definitely more than that and he’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding his amused expression.

Dean turns and stares him down. “What?”

“I dunno,” he says, his smirk fully visible now. “I just think it’s funny they’re pairing me up with Cas when the one with the ‘profound bond’ with him is right there.”

“Oh, haha. You’re hilarious,” Dean retorts at once.

“Hey man, I’m not the one who stayed in Purgatory for a year to find him.”

His glare takes on a murderous edge.

“Okay. You know what? You’re going to do that thing where you just shut the hell up! Forever!”

Sam holds up his hands in either what’s either a show of innocence or surrender.

“Alright, alright. Well, other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all I got nothing.”

“So…what?” Dean says. “This-this all... This whole musical thing, everything, it's... it's all a coincidence? There is no case?”

“Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no, Dean. There's no case here,” he says sincerely this time.

“Come on. This has classic Trickster vibes all over it.” He almost wants to turn around and start yelling, Come on out Gabriel you bastard!

“Trickster’s dead, man. And he wasn’t just a trickster, he was an archangel. And they’re all gone too.”

“Could be a lower-rank angel?” Dean tries. “I mean, Zachariah pulled off an entire apocalypse world. And that place where we were both corporate drones. Before you know it, this’ll get all Buffy and it’ll be me and you singin’ and dancin’—“

“Dean…I think it’s just fans. Look, as long as they’re not putting another love spell on one of us I couldn’t really care less what they’re doing,” Sam says with some bitterness, clearly not looking back at that particular memory with any fondness. “Just writing some songs? I mean, it’s innocent enough.”

“Oh yeah, so innocent,” he scoffs. “They’re singing about our dead parents, your demon blood bender, the apocalypse, all of it! This is just…it’s make-believe for them! But it’s our lives!”

Sam runs a tired hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t get it either man. I wasn’t exactly thinking about the books’ entertainment value while Chuck was describing my sex life in vivid detail—“

“Don’t remind me,” he says, holding up a hand in disgust.  

“—but I dunno. There’s obviously something about it they connected to, right? Something they related to, something that moved them, inspired them? And I guess…I mean, what’s wrong with that?”

There is so, so much wrong with that.

“I don’t know what story they’re reading and what Sam and Dean they’re ‘connecting’ to here. But it sure as hell ain’t us. I mean…they even made me blonde, dude.”

“It’s a high school play, what can you expect?” Sam laughs. “It was probably the closest wig they could find at Party City.”

Dean ignores him, muttering aloud as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.

“The hair…the singing…the robots… the love story…”

“You really were bothered by that, weren’t you?” Sam gives his brother a curious look.

“SUPERNATURAL ISN’T A ROMANCE!” Dean snaps. “Look, these girls obviously don’t know what they’re talking about—“

“I dunno, Dean,” Sam said in a clearly taunting voice now. “Maybe you’re just jealous of what me and Cas have.”

He flushes. “W-what? I-I’m not—“

“We could give you two a name too, y’know? So you don’t feel left out? What about…Dee-stiel? CasDean?”

And he refuses to entertain this conversation any longer.

“Shut your face! Get in the car!”

Thankfully Sam notices the shift in tone and obliges at once.

Dean, meanwhile, takes a moment outside the car to glance around — almost as if checking to see if anyone overheard that comment. Not that it mattered. Who could overhear? No one even knew they were THE Sam and THE Dean. Who cared? He certainly didn’t care. He didn’t care at all...

(to be continued)

#if you were one of the people who offered to beta read back in march know I WILL be reaching out to because I need it lol #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #fanfic #spn 10x05 #also this is a given but if you did want to be tagged when this is posted hmu! #been having so much fun with this especially with writing the new songs #also tbh the musical itself is the closet I will get to writing a sam & cas fic so that's been fun too lol #ESPECIALLY because then I can immediately add dean's reaction to it which is typically 'time to walk straight off the stage' #it's also fun to write a s10 fic since I'm a 'dean's been in love since s8 at least' truther #anyways new to this and my untreated adhd means I make a gazillion typos/take forever to work on things/get distracted by new ideas but #literally every positive comment on that first post is the reason why I'm still workin' at it

[starbuckie]

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

challenge: winter warmers writing challenge by @spaceodditybarnes

prompt: “it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas” by michael buble

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2k without lyrics, 2.1k with lyrics

warnings: i genuinely don’t think i can say anything besides FLUFF, oh wait theres some mentions of the shmexy sex (i promise im a functioning person)

summary: in which they take a little holiday stroll and talk about what they are.

a/n: THIS MADE ME VERY HAPPY THANK YOU FOR HOSTING THIS CHALLENGE JADE!!! i kinda veered off the idea of christmas with this one, but my mind created another idea and i kinda just went with the flow. anyways, i really enjoyed writing this one, and i hope you all had a lovely holiday season <3 LOTS OF LOVE Y’ALL

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere you go

Take a look at the five and ten, it’s glistening once again

With candy cane and silver lanes that glow

Snow sprinkled to the buildings and sidewalks of Midtown Manhattan, making the traffic clog up to the oh so lovely sounds of taxis and cars honking. It was far from what people pictured it, really, New York was absolute hell during the holiday season. Sloshing boots and teens smoking pot outside the scantily decorated discount store that held very little, sad-looking Christmas lights.

It didn’t bother Bucky. No, he had never been a big fan of the holiday season. Even back in the forties, with his ma and little sisters, they had never been huge on celebrating Christmas, instead choosing to work those shifts during the holiday so they could make a buck or two more to hold them over. Now in the twenty-first century, the holiday just reminded him how truly lonely he was, everyone and everything he used to know long gone.

But then he found Y/N. Granted, it had not been a formal introduction. The poor girl had nearly damn run him over with her motorcycle for Christ’s sake, but nonetheless she crawled into his heart that cold December morning two years ago, and had not left ever since. 

Now she walked by his side at Rockefeller Center, her cold fingers intertwined with his warm ones, admiring the tree while he admired her. He already had every part of her memorized, from late night escapades in the sheets to studying the slope of her nose at team breakfasts. Even when he wasn’t with her, he was always looking at her, unable to pull his eyes away from Y/N’s radiance. 

This little… dalliance of theirs had only started a year back, and they had still yet to put a label on it. Sam had called it friends with benefits, Sharon called it being a couple without the name. Bucky had shut both of those ideas down, claiming that they were taking it slow and weren’t looking to call it anything yet they still had not really talked about it. Was it really worth ruining the bond he had with the girl he fell madly in love with? Whatever it was, they had never taken time out of their day to actually discuss what they meant to each other, but, God, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t want to know.

“Bucky?” Her sweet voice brought him out of his thoughts, the glittering red and white lights of the Christmas tree reflecting in her eyes. “You seem kind of distracted right now, sweetheart, are you bored? We can head back to the compound if you like.”

He smiled at her worried tone, delicately kissing the tip of her nose. “‘M just thinking, doll, wanna stay as long as I can out here with you.”

The grin he received in return was breathtaking, her red-painted lips turned upwards and a little twinkle (literally and metaphorically) in her eyes. “Good.”

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Toys in every store

But the prettiest sight to see, is the holly that will be

On your own front door

“Oh, look at that helicopter, Buck! That’s so cool!” Y/N pointed at a little boy in the store controlling the airborne toy with a small remote. “They didn't have those when I was a kid, I just had my Tamagotchi.”

He scrunched his nose, staring at her with an emotion that could be described as nothing other than distaste. “What the hell is a Tamagotchi?”

“A Tamagotchi was like this little digital pet thing that you could take care of, mainly used for kids who were trying to prove to their parents that they could take care of a real pet. That’s why I had one at least, but I never did get a tabby cat like I wanted.” Y/N continued to ramble about her weird pet thing as they walked through the toy store, though Bucky didn’t really care. But he’d never stop her either. The way her eyes lit up in childlike wonder and her fascination with the toys on the shelves was too precious to destroy. This was the girl who he had seen slit throats and blow aliens’ brains out, and in the moment she was ogling an American Girl Doll like it was the last pancake at the breakfast table. 

Y/N finally convinced herself that she was done looking at the toys, claiming that she was too mature for such things (she really wasn’t), but he let her lead him out the door, before she halted right in the doorway. “What is it, honey?”

“Mistletoe.” He glanced up at the little sprig of green and red berries above their heads, hanging by a small strand of twine. A small group of kids with families stood around, watching them with both happy and annoyed faces. How could they not notice Y/N L/N and Bucky Barnes? Bucky’s vibranium arm may have been recognizable, but Y/N’s cheery, a little-louder-than-normal humming had caused a little group to watch them throughout the store. “I think they’re waiting for us to kiss, Buck.”

She leaned into him, placing her lips on his and placing her freezing hands on his cheekbones. Though Bucky had never been big on PDA, the rest of the world seemed to slip away when he was with her. He grinned into her lips, hugging her tightly around the waist so she squealed. When he forced herself away from her intoxicating mouth, she was sporting a bright smile and smudged lipstick that had rubbed off onto his. 

Giggling, she took her thumb and swiped off some of the red residue she had left. “You had a little something there, sweetheart.” 

A pair of hopalong boots and a pistol that shoots

Is the wish of Barney and Ben

Dolls that’ll talk and will go for a walk

Is the hope of Janice and Jen

Bucky watched Y/N point out all the different street cart vendors as they walked to Radio City Music Hall. She’d insisted that they go look at the window displays there as well, and who was he to argue? Strangely enough, they hadn’t talked much, other than the occasional “are you cold” from Bucky, to which Y/N assured him she was not. Her quiet voice sang the lyrics to Last Christmas when a little girl stopped in front of them, two auburn braids and green eyes boring straight into hers. 

The small child pulled on Y/N’s skirt, a silent plea to go down to her height. “Hi there, are you lost, sweetie?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” she looked back to an older woman, who gave her a thumbs up and a smile, “because you are my favorite superhero and I hope you have a very good Christmas.”

Y/N nearly melted at the toothless smile the girl, who she assumed was named Sadie by the necklace she wore. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. I hope you have a good Christmas too, and do you know this guy?” She dragged Bucky down next to her, the large, buff man hulking over the small girl. “This is my friend Bucky, do you know him?”

He eyed her warily, as if he were absolutely terrified of the tiny human. “You’re the Winter Soldier!”

Uh oh. The name was one that struck a chord of fear through everyone, still in shock of the events that had taken place in D.C. in 2014. While he and Sam had tried to label a new brand for the Avengers, people didn’t forget all the horrors of HYDRA and their prized assassin. Of course it hadn’t been him, even he knew that, but trying to convince people otherwise still made him feel guilty.

“You’re my second favorite Avenger, after Y/N, of course.” Sadie brought her hand to hover over Bucky’s vibranium one, her eyes wide with excitement. “Mr. Bucky, can I touch your metal arm?”

The man in question could barely utter out a word, muttering some sort of agreement before nodding with a timid smile. Giddily, she touched his arm, feeling all the cool ridges of gold-plated vibranium against the gun-grey metal. Sadie continued to pelt questions at him, about Sam and Redwing to his “adventures” with Y/N on the team.

Bucky, though shy at first, got more and more relaxed as they continued their conversation, his grin growing wider. Y/N loved her fans, she loved them so, so dearly, but seeing them interact with the man she loved was something different. Not a bad different, but a word that could only be described as pure joy. 

“Darling, I think we better leave Ms. L/N and Mr. Barnes alone. Say thank you and happy holidays.” The little girl looked sad, turning to look at her mom with a little pout, but she reluctantly obliged and soon the duo were off, into the crowded streets once again. 

“Y’know once upon a time I had dreamed about having kids,” Bucky commented. They walked along the sidewalks in a comfortable quiet after the encounter with Sadie, but Bucky’s mind had not stopped reeling from the happiness his conversation brought him. “Was gonna come home from the war, settle down with a gal, and live to be at least seventy years old.”

“Well, I can tell you you’re good on the last bit of that, Buck.” He snorted at her jab at his age, something that has become a norm for their little makeshift family of four. “What do you want now?”

He stopped in his tracks and looked over at her with a fond tilt of his lips. “Oh, just something real special.”

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Toys in every store

But the prettiest sight to see, is the holly that will be

On your own front door

“Y/N, what are we?” She glanced over at him from where they sat on the Met stairs, giving their feet a break from walking for hours. 

“What do you mean, Buck?”

He grabbed her hands and held them to his chest, trying to make her understand the amount of confusion and impatience he had with this one burdening question. “We’ve been sleeping together for a year, Y/N. We make each other breakfast, we go out together, I literally have half of my closet dedicated to your stuff, but even after all that we haven’t given us a name yet.”

Y/N sat in stunned silence, staring at the outburst from the man in front of her. To be completely honest she had never really thought about the question, choosing to enjoy each second she got to spend with the wonderful man with her. What she had noticed however, was how whenever they parted ways or were in the most intimate of moments, three little words nearly slipped off of her tongue. Every. Single. Time.

“Well, what do you want to be, Bucky?”

“I want to be the man you love. I want to be the man who loves you with his entire heart, though I like to think I already am. I want you to be my best gal more than anything in the world, and that I want to be the man who gets to hold and love you every night.” Slowly they drifted to each other, a magnetic pull bringing them to each other. “What do you think, doll?”

“I think,” her lips split into a grin, hovering over his own with the exact same expression, “that I want to be your best girl and the one who gets to make you pancakes in the morning and I want to be the one you get a cat with, who we’ll name Alpine because if I know you, names are the most important part of having a pet. I want to be held and loved by you every night, Bucky Barnes, and I am the girl who loves you more than anything in this entire damn world.”

Not another second to spare, Bucky pulled Y/N in close, letting himself get lost in one of her sweet, loving kisses, finally knowing that he was hers and she was his. At long last.

Sure, it’s Christmas once more

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #marvel #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james barnes #buckybarnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x yn #Sebastian Stan #sebastianstan #reader insert #Self Insert #sebstan #readerinsert #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes headcanon #mcu x reader #mcu #jadeswinterwarmers #jade's writing challenge

[lucywritesreid]

Wash it away

Summary: Quick piece. Y/N has had a rough day and needs a shower to get it all off. Her boyfriend Spencer is more than happy to help.

 Note: I’m nervous about posting my first stories so be gentle haha!

 It had truly been a hard day. You’d been working on barely any sleep, back to back cases and under immense time constraints. But the BAU never gave up. Your team had put in the effort and achieved a good result. You had managed to catch the unsub before his tenth victim lost her life. It had been a race to the finish line, but between you all you had discovered his hiding place and driven over just as he was about to pull the trigger.

It had been you that jumped out of the car first. You that ran across the front lawn to try and stop him. You who (albeit stupidly…) removed your FBI jacket and set down your gun upon request. It was incredibly close, but your quick thinking and willingness to move unarmed had saved the victim. Granted, you tackled him down and ended up with a few bruises in the process, but it was all worth it. Every save was worth the risk you took.

“Honey, what is it with you and pretty boy your desire to put yourself in the firing line, huh?” Morgan queried as he scanned you over in the back of the ambulance.

“That’s probably why they make such a good fit,” Emily retorted before pulling you into a warm embrace. “Just… try and keep your vest on next time, m’kay?”

You sat quietly in the back of the SUV with the other two agents as you made your way back to Quantico. You were thankful that this case had been local. You didn’t think you could handle a plane ride home you were so exhausted.

When you arrived back at headquarters, you barely stepped out of the car before Spencer came running over. The look of panic was clear in his eyes. He probably knew by now about your courageous act, but you weren’t going to address it yourself.

“H-hey, y/n, let’s get you home, huh?” his voice was like honey in your ears.

You slept all the way home. It wasn’t far to your shared apartment and you were glad to see the comforts of home as soon as Spencer unlocked the front door. You slipped out of your shoes and placed your jacket on the floor. You hadn’t realised how dirty you’d got in the fight until that moment. There was a sudden shooting pain up your left arm. Huh. It was only then you saw a line of bruises from where you’d fought the unsub.

You didn’t realise just how closely you were studying the injuries until you heard Spencer clear his throat. “It’s okay Spence, honestly. Looks worse than it actually is.” You shrugged and looked away, not knowing if you really wanted to see the pain across his face. “I’m going to get in the shower and then fix us some dinner.” You kissed his cheek as you passed him in the corridor, making your way into the bathroom.

A few minutes later and you found yourself soothed by the warm water. Showers really cured all problems. You tilted your head back to reach the water when there was a timid knock on the door.

“Spence? You can come in, y’know…”

The bathroom door opened slowly and your boyfriend walked in. “I was just seeing if you were okay, and I wondered if you wanted some company.” His voice trailed off towards the end. In so many aspects of your relationship Spencer was the confident one, but anything remotely suggestive had him blushing and giggling like a school girl.

You drew back the shower curtain, a smirk creeping across your face. “C’mon and help me out, doctor.”

It wasn’t long before he stepped in the water behind you. You moved away from the shower head slightly, partly to let the water reach him, and partly so you had an excuse to be closer.

“May I?” Spencer asked and you nodded in response. He leaned over you carefully and reached down for the shampoo bottle in the corner of the shower. You turned away from him and closed your eyes as he gently massaged the shampoo into your scalp. You could feel yourself nodding off from the touch. After a few minutes he instructed you to close your eyes as he rinsed the suds away.

He then set to work on the conditioner, combing it through the ends of your hair, twisting the ends and placing gentle kisses on your shoulders after every brush. “I really like the smell of this,” he mused.

“You did buy this particular scent yourself, doctor…” you replied with a laugh.

“Hmm. I have good taste don’t I?”

It was moments like these when you thought about just how much you loved him. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for him and it was clear he felt exactly the same. It was his little way of expressing how much you meant to him.

After you both finished showering, you turned off the water and he bravely stepped out into the cold first to grab you a towel. He held out his hand and helped you out of the shower before carefully wrapping another towel around your shoulders.

“I love you, my reckless FBI agent.”

“I love you too, Dr Reid.”

#criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagines #dr reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

[spellbound-banshee]

Broken Skin - Peter Parker

Summary: Peter comes home to you after the Homecoming events, as if you weren’t worried enough without him there.

Warnings: FLUFF GALORE, mentions of blood/wounds, a tiny tiny bit of angst

Pairing: Peter Parker (TH) x Reader

a/n: i would also like to point out that i did have wattpad account at some point and i wrote this story on it (no i’m not dropping the @ haha) so if it sounds familiar at any point that’s why :))

You anxiously flipped your phone around in your hands over and over again, still in your albeit uncomfortable homecoming outfit and you replayed the events of the night in your head:

You knew something was up as soon as Peter had arrived to the dance. He looked pale as a ghost and he didn’t come in with Liz, who was already dancing with some of her friends. However when you asked him, he brushed it off like it was nothing, and not wanting to ruin his night you let it go. You knew he was Spider-Man, and though you thought he could tell you anything, you could tell this was something different. Something sinister. You tried to erase the thought from your mind and took a sip of the punch, deciding to loosen up with Ned and MJ.

As soon as you saw him rush out of the gym and into the hallways, you made up an excuse and ripped off your shoes, leaving them on the dance floor. It seemed you came just in time as you saw Peter in his homemade suit getting thrown through a bus. In a quick last-ditch adrenaline rush, you picked up one of his web shooters planted conveniently at your feet, aiming it to the best of your ability and shooting it at the attacker.

“Nice shot!” You heard Peter’s voice yell once your shot halted the actions of the villain, and he quickly webbed the perp up before he could escape your sort of weak grasp.

“Peter!” You said as he walked up to you, quickly taking off the hood so you could hear him clearly.

“Don’t worry about me right now. Really, I have to sort this out and I promise everything will be okay.” Sensing the urgency in his tone, all you could do was nod and cup his face. He placed his hands on your waist and gave you a comforting squeeze before you were forced to watch him swing away from you. He promised he’d call you once the fight was over.

That was nearly 2 hours ago. Coney Island was ablaze and you still had no contact whatsoever from Peter. You tapped your toe as you began to pace back and forth through the length of your small apartment living room space, the news long turned off as you couldn’t bare the thought of anything bad happening to your best friend. The worst case scenarios began to flood your mind, and you ran a hand through your done-up hair.

Suddenly, you heard a gentle knock at the window, startling you. When you saw the silhouette face and a barely-lit red and blue suit, you quickly rushed towards the window. You fumbled with shaking hands to open it, and when you finally got it open, the boy collapsed in your arms.

Steadying yourself, you pulled his arm around your shoulder and stumbled backwards towards the couch, practically throwing him on top of it. He hissed from the harsh contact on his burned skin, seeming to suddenly feel pain again. “Oh my god, Peter are you alright?” You asked frantically, and Peter just gave you a pained smile, his clothes and broken skin were stained with ash. “Right, sorry stupid question.” You could really only whisper as your mind raced a million miles a minute, trying to contemplate the best solution to the problem.

“Sorry I didn’t call...” Peter grunted through his teeth, trying to fake yet another smile but ultimately failing. Pulling you away from your thoughts, you wrapped his arm around your shoulder once more and carried him to your bathroom, trying to gently sit him down on the closed toilet.

“It’s okay, you’re here now.” You tried to keep your voice gentle as you fumbled around in several cabinets for the right supplies. When you finally got out what seemed like a medical supply that could support an entire country, you looked towards your friend - he was breathing deeply, obviously trying to stay calm. He wasn’t dying, or going to die, but he was in a lot of pain, more than he was used to.

“Peter uh...” You struggled, furrowing your brow, “I need you to take this off.” You tugged at his bloodied suit, and he weakly nodded, taking off the thick sweatshirt where thankfully the blood was beginning to dry. This would be an interesting laundry load.

You were no stranger to how toned his body was, but it still never failed to surprise you each time you - accidentally - saw it. Trying not to hesitate, you grabbed your peroxide, dabbing it onto a tiny black washcloth. “Okay, this probably isn’t going to feel good, Parker.” You searched for something for him to squeeze, not wanting to give up your hand as you knew about his strength. Taking a second, you rushed to get up and grab one of your stress balls from your desk drawer, settling on that. “Here, grab this, it’s not much but... y’know.”

He nodded, a sort of thanks as you brought the cloth closer to one of his cuts. When it made contact, you heard him suppress a whimper of pain and you saw his arm flex from squeezing the ball. The moment was almost comical, but for a different time. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know...” You soothed as you finished dabbing and put a gauze patch over it before moving to a couple scratches across his chest.

When the storm had passed, you were putting small bandages over a cut on his eyebrow after you’d cleaned his face and the rest of his chest of the ash and dried blood. Soothingly, you ran your thumb over the small band-aid and left a kiss on his eyebrow when you were finally done. The situation was sort of awkward as Peter sat on your toilet in his boxers, but at least it would be a funny inside joke. He let out a sigh of relief when you were finally over, his head leaning against the wall behind the toilet. “Is that better?” You took one of his hands and ran your thumb over the bumps of his knuckles.

“The pain is a bit better, I’ll heal quickly but I know I’ll be sore in the morning.” He chuckled, giving you a weak smile - he felt weak and exhausted. “Thank you, I really can’t thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Parker.” You smiled, rustling his now wet hair a bit, “is everything and everyone okay?”

He nodded, “I stopped him, and I left him for the police. They’re probably going to try him for what he’s done. But... everyone’s okay, and that’s what really matters, I saved the day.” You gave him a fond smile, but his small moment of pride faded, “it’s going to crush Liz, though.” He was conflicted, and you could tell he was struggling with how to handle everything - again, for a different time.

“You did it though, and everyone’s okay. And it’s going to work out.” He nodded and you cupped the side of his face gently with your hand - he leaned into it, not in control of his body. “I’m so proud of you, Peter.” His eyes opened at that, and his lips parted in brief shock, “really, I am. No matter how much danger you put your life in, you always want to help. Always. It’s remarkable, and I admire you for being so brave.”

Peter hadn’t told anyone he was Spider-Man, not even May. So he never - in person - got any kind of recognition for it, and... it felt so good. He could cry if he wasn’t worried about making a total fool of himself in front of you, but he could already feel the tears stinging his eyes. “Thank you.” His voice cracked, and in an attempt to hide his tears, he pulled you up for a tight embrace. “Thank you.” He wanted to say I love you, but he really couldn’t, not to you - he couldn’t ruin what you already had.

“Of course, Peter. You deserve it.” That wasn’t helping with his tears either, and even though he was trying his best to hide it, you could still tell. You could always tell. You comforted him the best you could, running your fingers through his hair and kissing the top of his head. “It’s okay, I understand. Let it out.” He whimpered against your neck, taking in a few shuddering breaths and holding you tighter to him. You were beginning to get concerned due to the sensitivity of his cuts, but it was clear he couldn’t care less about the pain.

After a moment, he pulled away from your neck, still holding you tighter. You smiled down at his face, red and puffy - why did he have to have a cute crying face? That’s not allowed. Your thumbs stroked away his tears and he just felt so overwhelmed by you, the way you were looking at him, the care and affection just swirling in your eyes. He felt like he was going to burst.

In a black-out moment of courage, he pressed his lips against yours - but as quickly as they touched, he pulled away just as fast. His mouth opened to say something, but his throat was suddenly dry and his voice-box empty, he couldn’t say anything to even remotely redeem himself. 

You were shocked, not only at the sudden act of courageousness, but at the fact that he’d even want to kiss you. Peter didn’t know - obviously - but you’d had a crush on him since the eighth grade, and MJ would always make fun of you for it. And here you were, practically on top of him tending to his wounds, and he just kissed you.

“I-I- I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me you’re just so beautiful and nice to me and I just thought-” You thought his rambling was cute and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. He paused, surprised by your happy expression, and he relaxed his shoulders. “Why are you smiling?” He asked, almost terrified for some odd reason - and you laughed.

“You’re an idiot.” Probably wasn’t the best response, but before he could interject, you grabbed both sides of his face and pulled him in for another kiss. He hesitated, wanting to pull away and thinking it was just heat of the moment, but he could never deny you.

He closed his eyes and relaxed into your touch, tasting traces of your red cherry chapstick you’d put on before the dance. He suffocated on it, he couldn’t breathe oxygen, just you and your perfume - what a way to die. Peter steadied you at the awkward angle, his hands travelled around your waist but not low enough to get the wrong idea, and you smiled. So cute and thoughtful.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed when you pulled away, looking up at you with his pupils blown wide and his lungs gasping for air. “I think I just ruined our friendship.”

You just smiled and shook your head, pressing your forehead against his and giggling. “I’m okay with that. You don’t have to be sorry, I’ve literally had a crush on you for like 3 years.” He seemed shocked at that, and you laughed at his dumbfounded face. “Funny how it was obvious to everyone except you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, suddenly unable to make eye contact with you. “I don’t want this to be just... heat of the moment.” Peter felt a pressure under his chin that forced him to look up at your face, and he watched you carefully.

“If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t have kissed you back.” He nodded, relief flooding his veins once again, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose, and you drew back, giggling.

After a bit of silence you pulled away from his embrace and said, “okay Parker, you’re staying with me tonight. It’s far too late for you to go back home and clearly you’re too tired.” He went to speak, but you put a finger to his lips to cut him off. “I’ll call Aunt May and explain the whole situation to her, but I’ll... fudge some things. Now, throw your suit in the hamper. Use this washcloth to get the rest of the ash off you and I’ll get you some clothes to wear.” He couldn’t say anything with that plan laid out, and you smiled when you realized he was speechless with gratitude.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely, completely love-struck and he was sure he looked stupid just staring at you. But it was... charming, and you just blushed and walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind you and hearing the faucet start running. 

-

“Yeah, we’re fine May...” You soothed a blubbering May on the phone. “There was a fight at the dance, so we decided to leave early and hang here.”

“A fight?! Is Peter okay?!”

“Yeah, Peter’s fine. I mean he got hit once or twice but you know him, always trying to be the hero. He’s fine and in my hands, May.”

“He got hit? By who?!” She seemed to hysterically scream into the phone, causing you to jump back a bit and hold the phone away from your ear.

“We couldn’t see who was fighting. I promise you I’ll have him home in tip top shape in the morning, okay? Trust me?” There was a moment of silence over the line before you heard her let out a semi-reluctant sigh.

“I trust you, (Y/n). Please let me know if you have any problems and call me as soon as you’re on your way back, got it?”

“Got it, thanks again May.”

“Tell Peter I said goodnight and I’m glad he’s safe.” You smiled at that, and you could practically hear the relief that inhabited her voice.

“I will, don’t worry. Goodnight.”

Hanging up the phone, you sighed and walked into your room. Without much thought, you took off your homecoming outfit along with everything underneath it. You sort of regretted leaving your shoes at the school and you hoped they would sill be there when you were able to go back. You took one of your oversized shirts and some sweatpants, throwing them half-hazardly on your body. 

When you heard the bathroom door open, you saw the same half-naked Peter awkwardly sauntering into your room. His eyes were respectively closed, and you just laughed at the awkward politeness of it all. “I’m decent, Peter.” He smiled and opened his eyes, a towel wrapped around the lower half of his body.

“Could I uh... have some clothes?” You had a ‘duh’ moment as you shot up to rush to your closet, causing Peter to chuckle gently. You grabbed one of his hoodies from your closet and an oversized pair of boxers, praying they could fit him. “Where did you get one of my-”

“You gave one to me and I guess I... never gave it back.” He just smiled and took the clothes from you, sauntering back into the bathroom with a dopey grin on his face.

-

“Hey.” You heard Peter say as he finished changing, knocking gently on your door to alert you and he saw you lying across your bedspread.

“Hey.” You replied back with a smile, patting the bed you had made up for him, standing up with a bit of a groan to make it seem more available to him. He was exhausted, his hair was wet and tousled with a towel try, he looked like a mess but... a cute one. Somehow. Peter flopped back on the bed and groaned when he felt how soft it was, causing to giggle and pull the blankets over him like a child.

“Goodnight, Parker. I’m going to sleep on the couch.” Before you could get two steps, you felt his hand gently grab yours, attempting to pull you back to the bed.

“Stay.” His soft voice mumbled, tugging on your arm like a five-year-old. “I don’t want to be weird I just, don’t wanna be alone. Please?” You sighed, how could you say no when he asked so nicely? 

“It won’t be weird, I’m comfortable with it.” He smiled and patted the bed, moving over slightly and leaving a space for you beside him. You smiled, climbing into the bed with him, your back colliding with his chest and feeling a new type of warmth in your bed. It felt weird having someone besides a pillow in your bed, but as long as it was Peter you were comfortable with the foreign feeling. 

“(Y/n)?” You heard him whisper, and you turned around to actually face him. “Can I ask you something?” You nodded, running your fingers through his hair and tucking a few loose strands behind his ear. “Can I... take you out?” He asked so softly, and he was almost scared - you could hear the trembling in his voice.

“On a date or like...?” You mimed punching him in the face, causing him to laugh and hold your hand, swinging it around a bit. “Of course, Peter. I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked with hope filling his voice, and you smiled at the way the dimly lit room showed his glowing face, “I mean uh... great, yeah, cool.” Another comfortable moment of silence, and he was still holding your hand, not wanting let go yet. 

“Can I kiss you, Peter?” You asked carefully, hoping you were reading the moment right again, even though you kissed him before.

“Yeah, please.” He practically begged without hesitation, and you just giggled at his sudden eagerness. Placing a hand on the side of his face, you pulled him in for another kiss, molding your lips together perfectly. Peter couldn’t help but smile, and you felt a lingering but light hand floating at your waist. “Can I... is this okay?” He asked, a small nervous crack in his voice, and you simply nodded, guiding his arm to pull you closer to the back of his chest. “O-okay.”

Continuing to kiss you, he felt himself squeezing at your waist to ground himself, he didn’t want to get too caught up and make you uncomfortable. You smiled against his lips, slightly opening your mouth and giving Peter permission - if he was comfortable - to slide his tongue in. His eyes shot open, pulling away for a second and feeling his heart drop when he heard your whine. “Sorry I’ve just... this is my first kiss and well... I mean I guess my first kiss was like 20 minutes ago but-”

“Hey...” You soothed, running your hand through his hair again, a motion that seemed to calm him down, “we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with-”

“N-no I want to I just... I’ve never kissed anyone before so...” You just laughed as he felt the need to warn you but you just shook your head and smiled at him. “Okay uh...” He just went back to kissing you, and you giggled at the awkwardness of it all, he could feel it too.

But he quickly relaxed into your touch and cupped the side of your face, drawing you closer to him. With your permission, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, and not being able to help it you sighed against him. He took pride in knowing he was actually doing good, and just took a deep breath, attempting to pull you even closer to him.

When your tongues pushed together, it was his turn to whimper, and the sound made you smile. You as well took pride in knowing you were making him feel good, and for some reason it felt better that he was inexperienced. In Peter’s eyes, you were a fucking God and you could tell how much he appreciated you. His breathing was beginning to get a bit heavy but he refused to pull away, so you had to with a big smile on your face. He chased your lips and whined when you pushed him back, which was followed by a pink blush across his cheeks.

“You need to breathe.” You teased, pressing your forehead against his and basking in the closeness and intimacy you two had created in a matter of minutes. It all felt so fast, but fast felt right.

“I think I like doing that.” Peter confessed shyly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his innocence.

“I sure hope you do.” He smiled, his hand still on your waist and his other hand still stroking your cheekbone. You swore you could cry at the way he looked at you, such love, such care, such admiration. And you two stayed their for a while, just admiring each other’s features, the only sounds filling the room were the soft whir of the fan above your heads, and your quiet breathing.

“Thank you...” Peter whispered, breaking the comfortable silence and causing you to tilt your head in curiosity. “For everything, really. I didn’t know where else to turn but I knew I could count on you... I can always count on you. I don’t know what I would do without you and I don’t feel like I give it back enough or thank you enough but... I just wanted to express my gratitude because... I-I don’t know...” I love you, but he couldn’t say that. He wasn’t even sure if that’s what it was, but he felt so strongly and fondly of you, he didn’t think it could be anything else.

His words surprised you greatly, you didn’t know how to soak in this new gratitude, and you were left in slight anticipation at the last part. “Hey, I’ll always be here for you. No matter how crazy you make me.” Your words made him chuckle and seemed to comfort him.

“I think I really like you, (L/n).” You smiled a bright smile, taking his face gently in your hands and kissing the tip of his nose.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I really like you too, Parker.” He nodded, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding and taking both of your hands in his. “But I’m tired... and I’m sure you are too, so let’s get some sleep, yeah?” Once again, he nodded and kept his hands holding yours, the feeling comforting to each other.

His words rung around in your head, even though you knew they held no secret or extremely significant value. They were sweet, genuine words that made your heart stop for a split second and you had no idea why. You felt him bury his head into your neck and close his eyes, kissing your collarbone sleepily as he let himself find comfort in your cuddle.

You felt your heavy eyelids close as well, tiredly stroking Peter’s soft brown hair, and he hummed in appreciation. You felt yourself smile, finally letting yourself fall asleep in the warmth of each other’s embrace...

...finally feeling at ease.

-

part 2?

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #peter parker imgaine #one-shot #peter parker oneshot #tom holland oneshot #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman fluff #spiderman oneshot #marvel #angst #fluff #marvel fluff #marvel x reader

[padme-parker]

Collide / Chapter 1

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: With the fate of the universe lying in your hands, you are sent on a mission to a galaxy far, far away.

Warnings: none (I think)

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: The readers ‘superhero’ name is Star btw, so I hope that clears up any possible confusion (there will be a backstory/flashback later as to how she got that name). This is the first series I’ve ever written, so there's gonna be some major plot holes and shit that doesn’t make sense!! I’ve been trying to work through the kinks and make it seems as logical as possible. Sorry and Thanks for reading :) xx 

also I didn’t really proof reader so sorry if there like,,, a lot of mistakes

image is from the 100! (but this isn’t strictly about the 100 !)

“and I scream from the top of my lungs, what’s going on?” -4 Non Blondes

You sat down on the couch with a huff, Tony had taken the remote away from you after you decided to replay Revenge of the Sith for the 100th time. It was the team bonding movie night, occurring every friday. Peter and you were more than eager to rewatch it, however the team was not so ecstatic about it.

As soon as Tony saw your eyes light up, he immediately knew what you were thinking of, “And don’t even think of asking FRIDAY to play it for you.” You let out another huff, deciding to leave so you could have some time to yourself.

“Star, where are you going!?” He paused the show, as he and the others turned to you.

“Well, since you took away my joy, Mr. Stank, I’ve decided to ogle Anakin Skywalker in the comfort of my own room.” You could hear the snickers let out by the team as Tony muttered under his breath, unpausing the show as the theme for Sense8 started to play.

As you entered your room, you took no notice towards the figure in the corner. You were just about to flop down onto your heavenly bed before you were interrupted.

“Miss L/N.” You let out a scream as you turned to the figure. Quickly unholstering your weapon, you pointed it at the figure, finger guns ready to shoot if needed. “Cut the crap L/N, and put the ‘gun’ away.”

“Damn Fury, I could’ve been changing! What the hell.” You gave him an incredulous look

“Oh you’re funny, but we all know that you don’t give a damn if someone sees you half or fully naked. Not that I’d want to, cause frankly I don’t.” Your eyes widened with shock, mouth falling open, “Nevermind that, I’m not here for chitchat. I have a mission for you that requires your focus to be….elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere..? EYe- sir it’s the 21st century, not the 18th century.”

“Yes, well regarding the place you’re going to, our timelines won’t be explicitly the same.” You gave him a questioning look, he continued, “Tell me young L/N, have you ever heard of the force?” Oh at this point he must’ve been tickling your pickle, I mean what kind of joke is he playing at?

“Yes, of course I have! It’s a fictional power from a fictional movie!” Opting out on the ‘DUH!’ at the end just in case Fury decided he wasn’t in the mood to play games anymore.

“Wrong, agent L/N. You’re absolutely wrong.” At this point you were seated on your bed, hands clasped together and placed on your lap. “In fact, where do you think you got your powers from?” Oh shit, maybe you should’ve thought about the fact that you could move things with your mind before saying that the force was fake.

“I don’t understand, even if what you’re implying is remotely correct, it would be impossible! There’s also no way I could even go back to the past to change it” Before you could utter another word, Director Fury motion for you to stand up.

“Come with me agent L/N, you have much to learn.” He said as he directed both of you out of your room. Soon you found yourself in front of the doors to the meeting room. Walking in, you noticed there had already been files laid out across the table. “Take a seat, L/N. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

“First things first,” I’m the realest, HA! I’m funny, good one y/n.  “The force is real, it’s essentially what gives you your telekinetic powers. Second, because of Doctor Strange, it has come to my attention that the fate of the universe lies in your hands.”

“Wait, what? Why me? Is it because I’m a huge Star Wars fan..? I mean come on! What about Peter, he likes Star Wars too!!”

“Cause I said so, and no, Peter is too young.” Yeah, but apparently old enough to be watching a show with the team that contains nudity, but then again he is 18. Poor kid would just blush at the thought of sex.

“Okay, but even if I did agree to doing this, wouldn’t it be too late for me to at least try to solve anything?” There were a million thoughts and questions running through your mind.

“Time runs at a slower pace in our universe than it does in theirs. If our calculations are correct, we are currently in the Revenge of the Sith timeline.”

“But I thought it was, ‘A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…’ not the present..” you rebutled

“Ah, yes. We contacted Mr. Lucas himself. Turns out he too is force sensitive, and gifted with foresight. That’s why he wrote the books and comics, along with creating the movies. He did it so he would never forget about where he’d come from, but it also served as a warning. When he first had visions of the downfall of the Jedi Order, he fled. Using a bridge that connected Coruscant to our Earth. That’s how he, and many other force sensitive beings like you, can inhabit the earth.” He explained.

“That still doesn’t answer my question, how-”

Fury interrupted you before continuing, “Right, like I said, time runs slower here than it does in their universe. While time in his universe runs faster. Before he left, Qui Gon Jinn hadn’t been born yet. He’d left their universe when he was merely 22, about the same age as you. At the age of 32, he’d already released A New Hope. On Earth, he ages slower. Had he stayed within his universe, he would’ve been dead way before you were born.”

All this new information was giving you a headache. “Hold on, you mentioned a bridge.. What exactly is it?”

“Well agent L/N, the bridge is located in the middle of Antarctica, precisely the south pole in an underground ice cave. The bridge can either be used to summon other beings or to travel to different planets. It just so happens that we have one here on Earth. How? We have no idea, but we’re working on it.”

At this point, you were confused and wouldn’t be able to comprehend any new information if he gave any. Noticing the distant look on your face, Fury dismissed you.

“I’ll give you the night to think about it, but remember, the fate of the universe lies in your hands, Y/N. We don’t have much time to waste.”

-

You sat on your bed, hands raking through your hair. Hours ago you were so excited to rewatch your favorite movie, and now you were about to be thrown into that universe. You didn’t know whether to be elated or terrified. Fury said that there were other force sensitive beings on Earth, so why would they choose you? Surely there was someone stronger than you that they could send. But then again this meant that you would be seeing THE Anakin Skywalker.

You looked at the files again to get a better grasp of the mission. Join the Jedi Order. Befriend Anakin Skywalker, Obi Wan Kenobi, and Senator Amidala. Eradicate the Titan race. Hold on, they wanted you to kill a whole race of creatures. If you couldn’t kill a fly, then there was no way you’d be able to off a whole race.

You decided to shoot Peter a text, asking him to come to your room. It didn’t take long before you heard a knock on your door. You responded with its open and Peter came into your room, flopping down onto your bed right next to you.

“What’s up buttercup?” You scrunched up your face. Ew, save it for MJ. Speaking of MJ, you wondered how the two of them were doing. However, you chose not to say anything and instead focus on the situation.

“Okay Pete, I’m going to tell you something and you absolutely CANNOT repeat it to anyone else. Not even Ned.” You paused, waiting for him to nod before continuing, “So like after Mr. Stark so rudely interrupted our rewatch of Star Wars, I went to my room to watch it myself. And then one thing led to another and nowi’mgonnabetravelingacrosstheuniverseandplayingjediwithTHEANAKINSKYWALKERandofcoursedaddywankenobibutFurywantsmetokillawholeraceofbeingsbecausethefateoftheuniverseliesinmyhandsnow.” You turned to Peter hoping his advanced hearing allowed him to understand what you just said, but instead you just received a flabbergasted look from him. “ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶦ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵃᶦᵈ…” You waited a few seconds expecting that he would catch on eventually, alas he didn’t. You began to repeat yourself, only this time slower.

“...so you're telling me that the force exists and i got stuck with a FREAKING radioactive spider bite??” Dear god, this boy was going to be the death of you.

“Peter, that’s not the point!” You said, trying to get back to the subject, “The point is that by tomorrow I’ll be in a whole other universe, that up until today, didn’t exist to us. This is supposed to be fictional dude, and now it’s becoming my reality! OUR reality! What if I get impaled by a lightsaber? I’m only 20, I can’t die!! Or worse, what if Anakin doesn’t like me?” The severity of the situation was just now hitting you, so many things could go wrong on this mission, but the whole universe was counting on you. The weight of the world began to crush you and breathing became hard. Falling to the floor, you laid in a fetal position, arms clutching your knees.

From the corner of your eye you could see Peter's arm reaching out to touch your shoulder, “Hey, star, you're okay. You’re gonna be okay. C’mon sit up and take a deep breath with me.” Carefully, Peter hoisted you up. You sat criss cross applesauce on the floor, parallel to Peter. Following the breathing exercise, you felt yourself calming down.

“Thank you, y’know you didn’t have to do that. But I appreciate it, a lot.” You knew you weren’t getting a wink of sleep tonight, so you asked Peter if he could stay for the night, which he agreed to. The two of you spent the night talking about the most random things, and before you knew it, the sun had already risen.

Noticing that it was morning, you offered to make some breakfast for the both of you. However as you got up to move, FRIDAY interrupted you, “Miss Y/N, Director Fury requests your presence in the meeting room.” Letting out a loud groan, you told FRIDAY that you would be down soon.

“Well Peter, it looks like I’ll have to make you breakfast once I get back.” You gave him a quick nod before making your way to the meeting room.

“I trust that you spent the night thinking about the mission, agent L/N. So, what have you decided?”

You cleared your throat before responding, “One last question, then you’ll have my answer.” Fury briefly nodded, signaling for you to continue, “Of all places within our universe, why there? Titan is within our solar system, wouldn’t it make sense for the avengers to travel there and just..” holding up a two finger gun to your head, you pretend to shoot yourself and die, “y’know? I mean it would save us a lot more time.”

“Well to put it simply, they have technology far more advanced than ours, we need a special weapon in order to carry out the mission.” You hoped that Fury wasn’t referring to THE weapon. If you went, that would mean you’d be forever changing the timeline, and there’d be no way to fix it. But if you didn’t go, Anakin would fulfill his prophecy, he would live the life of a liar, traitor, and puppet. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself for letting Anakin suffer.

“Fine, I’m in. When do I leave.”

-

The flight to Antarctica was long and boring, you would’ve slept but your nerves kept you up. But as you felt the jet land, you couldn’t have been more relieved. You were finally back on land. You could kiss the ice if you wanted to, but chose not to. Who knows what kind of ancient bacteria is lurking.

The entrance to the cave was surrounded by many agents. Although it was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, security was still a top priority. Entering the cave, you clutched the fluffy jacket that was wrapped around your body. You walked in silence, admiring the cave until the agents stopped in front of a hatch.

“This is as far as we can go. Climb down the ladder and follow the path, Fury will be waiting for you.” One of the agents informed you, as the other bent down to open the hatch. Well, here goes nothing.

The first thing you noticed was the change of temperature. Above the hatch, it was freezing, but below it was warmer. Warm enough that you broke out in a slight sweat, but not warm enough to melt the ice. The second thing you noticed was how well lit the passage was, which surprised you. There were lights hanging onto the wall. Hmm, there’s no way they could be solar powered, it's too far underground. They must be powered by the bridge.

You followed the passage, noticing a slight hum that grew louder with every turn you took. Soon, you found yourself in front of a door, a faint green hue escaping from under it. You slowly pushed the door open. The sight in front of your very eyes had you mesmerized. The bridge itself was made of a stone like matter, hovering above the ground. Walking closer to it, you took note of it’s spiral pattern and engravings.

“Welcome agent L/N.” Fury’s loud voice startled you out of your trance.

“The symbols, what do they mean?” You asked

“Well, we're not entirely quite sure what they mean. But we do know that it’s a language of sorts. You see, if you tap the symbols in a specific order, you can travel to a different world or summon a person.” Fury turned to you, handing you a necklace. “It’s a communication, tracking, and code device, all in one. Use it when you need to communicate vital information to us. All the codes you need are in the device, but be weary of using them, any only summon one of us if absolutely needed. It also includes mission details, like the time on Earth and a countdown. If you're not back the day the countdown is done, we will come find you.” He demonstrated how to use the device, pressing a button to bring up Coruscant’s code.

“Now, exactly how does this work ?” You pondered

“It relies on the energy being emitted from the bridge. For it to work, it’s essential that you stay on a planet with a bridge. If not, we won’t be able to track or help you if needed.”

Not another word was uttered as you went to remove your jacket. The black long sleeve shirt along with the black jeans and combat boots you were wearing was going to make you stick out like a sore thumb in the Jedi Temple. Reaching for the device around your throat, you pressed the button. You took a deep breath before touching the first symbol. A warmth began in you, starting from your core, expanding to the tips of your fingers. With each symbol you touched, the vibration of the hum increased. You continued to touch the symbols needed, pausing slightly before touching the last one.

“What now? Do I jus-” There was now a chill in the room, your hair lightly swayed. A small swirl of green mist appeared from behind the bridge, expanding until it filled nearly half of the room. “Do i just walk in..?” Fury nodded. You took hesitant steps towards it, your heart beating louder with each step. Before you fully engulfed yourself into the mist, you turned towards Fury, “If I don’t come back, tell-”

“You’re going to come back. You have to. The avengers, human race, and every inhabitant of the universe is counting on it.” Letting out a shaky breath, you nodded before stepping into the mist.

The further you went in, the less you could feel Fury’s burning stare on the back of your head. As it became weaker, you began to see a concrete wall. You reached out to stabilize yourself, it felt as though you were being kicked out of the bridge. The mist dissipated the second you stepped out of it. Hugging the wall, you look around the concrete room, noticing a heavy look door in front of you. With all your might, you pushed the door open. You began to sluggishly walk down a corridor, tripping over your own feet every couple of seconds. Damn, I really should’ve slept. All of your energy had left your body, and now it felt like you were going crazy as you began to hear a voice in your head.

Who are you? That voice, it sounded so familiar. Too focused on trying to figure out who the voice belonged to, you failed to notice the Jedi running up behind you. It was the ignition of a saber that made you freeze, followed by, “Stop right there! Turn around and face us sith!” Oh, so apparently you were a sith now. You raised your arms up slowly, showing that you weren’t a danger to them. Fully turning around, you were mesmerized to find who was in front of you. Or more like, the crowd in front of you. Your eyes scanned through the familiar faces until you locked eyes with him. His eyes followed your every move, his gaze strong and hard.

“Anakin…” You whispered, your knees buckled, sending you to the ground. Your eyes fluttered close, the exhaustion taking a toll on you. Before you could fully fall asleep, you heard the voice softly respond,

It’s you.

~~

read ch 2 here

omg yall I feel like this sucked ass, I rushed the last couple of paragraphs cause I just really wanted to publish this. I’ll probably come back in the future to edit/rewrite it once I get some stuff sorted out. as of rn I'm thinking of doing a love triangle but idk. Also please tell me how you feel about the title,,, I’m stuck between ‘Borrowed Time’ and ‘Clash’, I only went with the former cause it seemed fitting but I also really like the name ‘Clash’. lmk what you think !!!

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #peter parker x reader #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #star wars #star wars imagine #peter parker #avengers #avengers imagine #tony stark #nick fury #anakin skywalker imagine #peter parker imagine #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

[lifesabe-ch]

this means war - billy r. and frank c. (part 6)

summary: this is a spin off from a movie (can anyone find the title? ;) starring Billy Russo and Frank Castle. In this AU, Billy isn’t a psycho, Frank’s family is alive, and they both really like coffee. And, y’know, Y/N.

pairings: Frank Castle x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader (actually both of them, i promise)

warnings: fragile male ego and sass

a/n: hi i’m admin A, aka @pitaparka, and this is my first post on this blog! we’ve been co-writing this for a while so it just seemed logical for me to hop on here as an admin! I probably won’t be doing any individual writing here (i write independently on my above blog, so if you like this blog, you should check that one out too ;), but if we’re doing any co-writing, it’ll probably be here. that’s all for now. later!

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5

Billy accidentally locked the door to his apartment trying to get in from work. Which was concerning, considering he locked it this morning. If he could bet money on whether or not Frank was sitting on his couch—

He would have been wrong. Frank was sitting at his breakfast counter. Eating pizza.

Billy sighed loudly, “Did you at least save me some?”

Frank doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he slides the pizza box over to the empty seat next to him. 

Billy drops his keys on the counter, tosses his suit jacket there too, and loosens his tie before sitting down next to Frank.

“Mushroom and sausage,” he says, his eyes trained on the news playing on Billy’s television. 

They sit there silently eating pizza together. 

“I saw Y/N today.” Billy says. He can almost see Frank’s ears perk up.

“At work?” 

“No. The coffee shop. I dropped by, you know, to see her.” 

Frank nodded. 

Grinning, Billy nodded, “We’re going on date. Our first date, already.” He gets up from the breakfast bar to wipe off his hands. 

Quirking a brow, Frank chuckled, “Good for you man. Good for you.”

“Yeah. How are you two doing?” 

“We already had a date.” 

Watching as the grin immediately fell from Billy’s face, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What? When?” 

“Last night.”

“No… you went on my date?”

“Your date?” Frank scoffed, sipping the beer he had in his hand, as he watched Billy pace. “It was my date, asshole. One too many hits to the head today?”

“I—You… That was my date!” Billy says, leaning on the breakfast bar.

“So why weren’t you on it?”  

 “W-what?” Billy asked. He takes a second to process it. “I was… at a meeting.”

“Sure. At eight o’clock at night?”

“Yes, at eight o’clock at night.” 

Frank shot him a look.

 “Some people have businesses.” He defends. 

Frank scoffed, “You have one business, Billy.”

“And you’re getting into my business, so watch it.”

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it, Russo? You gonna—”

“We need some rules.”

“Huh?” Frank asks. He gives Billy a look like Billy’s seen many times before. It basically slaps him upside the head and asks him how much he’s had to drink already. He retreats to the fridge to grab a beer. Get an early start on the night ahead of him. 

“What the hell are you on about, man?” Frank asks. He leans over the box and grabs another slice of pizza. 

“I don’t think we should tell her that we know each other.” Billy says. Frank looks at him. 

“What, like, stay out of each other’s way?” Frank takes the remote and turns the volume down on the TV.

“Yeah. Just let her decide.” 

“We’re already letting her decide,” Frank clarifies.

“No, I mean… no interruptions.”

Billy watches as Frank contemplates this whole thing. 

“Billy, you know you’re like a brother to me, man.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t do this—”

“No no no, I mean, I don’t want this… whatever this is to mess us up, okay?”

“Listen,” Billy starts, “have we ever let a girl come between us before?”

“We’ve never liked the same girl before.”

“I’m just saying…  If things get too tense, we can both back off, okay?”

Frank shakes his head. He lets out a sigh. 

“So we’re not getting in each other’s way.”

“No, Billy, we aren’t.”

“That pretty much settles it?”

“Yeah.”

Frank closed the pizza box, signifying the end of the conversation. 

“How was my date?” Billy asked, taking a drink from his beer.

“You mean my date.” Frank clarified, turning up the TV a little bit. 

“Well, I was the one who asked her. And I picked the restaurant. And the time.” 

“The restaurant? What restaurant?”

Billy stared at Frank in confusion. “Did you not… wait, where did you go?” 

“We went to Tina's Place. Off of 60th. The midnight one.”

“Oh. Why?” Billy picks at the label on his beer bottle that’s already starting to peel with condensation. 

“Because we were at the bar down the street.”

“You picked her up at a bar?”

“What does it matter, Russo? You’re losing anyway.”

“Frank, you’re this close to getting kicked out of my apartment.  Did you do anything?”

“No, Bill, we sat there and we stared at each other. All night.”

“You know what I’m asking.” Billy deadpanned.  

“We kissed.” 

“And?”

“And nothin’.” Frank huffed. 

“You went on my date and all you did was kiss?” Billy asked, incredulously. 

“More than you did,” Frank muttered, loud enough for Billy to understand the mischievous grin on his features. 

“Just wait until I get to go on my date, Frankie.” Bill declared, moving to toss the empty pizza box in the trash.

“If you even make it. Maybe I’ll get to go on that one too,” Frank said, chuckling. He gets up and grabs his phone off the kitchen counter. He doesn’t even check it before he slips it into his pocket and makes his way to the door.

“Oh I’m going on this date, Frank. It’s gonna be the best damn date of her life. She’s not even gonna remember who you are.”

“Whatever you say. I’ll see ya tomorrow, Billy,” Frank yells over his shoulder on his way out.

Billy sat, only the company of the TV to keep his apartment from complete silence. As much as he hated coming home to other people in his house, he didn't mind Frank all that much. Especially when he cleaned up after himself. Billy let his own beer bottle clank softly into the trash. He got to work on the dishes that were starting to pile up in his sink. He hated a messy apartment. 

With most of his household chores done, he broods on the couch over Frank’s dinner. His dinner, really. A missed opportunity. He wasn’t upset with her. He wasn’t even upset with Frank. He was more upset with himself, getting caught up like that. He fiddled with the remote. 

“Dinner. Saturday night. Eight o’clock.”

This was shaping up to be just like the situation he got himself in. He needed to do something else. Something drastic. If this was a race, Frank was winning. But that’s okay. Only for now. Slow and steady, Billy. Slow and steady.

He takes out his phone and sends a text. 

Hey, you free Saturday morning instead?

He doesn’t know what to do, so he stares at his phone. He imagines her, rolling her eyes and ignoring him. He cycles through some apps before he gets the notification from her.

uhhhh why?

Billy is awestruck. Why? He doesn’t know how to respond. Everything he comes up with sounds wrong. That’s not how he expected her to respond. 

“Because I want to take you for breakfast instead.” He types, but deletes it. That sounds too forward, like he has plans late on he doesn’t want to cancel for her.

“I just want to see you sooner.” Ugh. That’s the wrong side of creepy, not sweet.

He panics. He’s been typing and deleting for almost a minute. 

Why not?

 He sends.

I’m a coffee man, you know that

He sends again. He stares, and his messages pop up as having been read by her. He lets his fingers do a little dance over the keyboard, waiting to type out a reply.

you got me there

 She sends, and Billy smiles at his phone.

Sweet 

He sends back, and at the same time, she sends him,

still my place?

Billy ponders for a second. The ball is in his court.

Yeah. 9:30 sound good? He asks.

yup 

She shoots back immediately. He locks his phone and tosses it to the side, running his hands over his gelled hair. All is right in the world. But he needed to shower. Just then, he gets one more text. 

He thinks it’s Y/N, but it’s not. It’s Frank.

i left my hat at ur house

Billy ignores the message. 

“Even when he’s not here, he’s here,” Billy mumbles to himself. He sees Frank’s blue baseball cap sitting lonely under the chair where Frank sat. He ignores that too, in favor of a hot, steamy shower before bed. Frank will come get it eventually. Just not tonight.

tag list (respond to post or send ask to be added!):

@full-of-sins-not-tragedies, @harrysthiccthighss, @constellation---me, @editboutique, @achesiresmile, @ghastlygray, @muddleofmarvel​ , @starxdame​

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagines #ben barnes #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines #frank castle x billy russo x reader #frank castle x you #billy russo x you #jon bernthal #the punisher #the punisher s1 #the punisher season one #billy russo x reader imagine #frank castle x reader imagine #the punisher series #pete castiglione x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank x y/n #billy x reader #billy x y/n #billy russo x y/n #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x y/n imagine #jon bernthal x reader #the punisher imagine #jigsaw x reader #jigsaw the punisher #jigsaw x you

[jane-the-zombie]

Twi-Lite || Harsh & Jane

TIMING: Present? LOCATION: Jane’s Apartment PARTIES: @notsoharsh​ & @jane-the-zombie​ SUMMARY:

Jane swung the door open the second she heard a knock at the door, eyeing Harsh. He certainly looked like the man she had fought wearing a wedding dress, though she was a little irritated that he didn ‘t have a black eye. She hit him pretty damn hard. Her foot for god’s sake was still bruised from the heel stomp. Crap, that must mean she had to go to the gym. “Nice to meet the man from my dreams,” Jane’s bad attempt at humor was obvious as she slid in the wave him in. “Come in, don’t mind the step stool, it’s possessed and cranky and don’t let it out, he’ll try to kill you.” As if to emphasize her point, the rattling step stool in the corner lurched. “Do you drink?”

Harsh let his eyes trail over Jane. Just like the dream. That was still weird. At least it meant he wasn’t losing his mind, but seeing her in person set him on edge. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, seeing her in his dreams, knowing her. It was wrong. But whatever. Not like he could do anything about it. “Likewise,” he said, with a grin as he stepped into Jane’s home. He glanced at the step stool. Huh. Weird. “Oh, I drink, you just have to make it strong. So do you wanna talk? Cause I’m good to just watch shit TV for a while.”

“I think we should talk,” Jane said. She was a little on edge seeing the man that was in her dreams here in person - maybe it was more strange to not automatically want to punch him in the face for ruining her dream wedding. She closed the door behind him. “Especially since I think… I think this may go deeper than dreams.” Jane pushed her hair out of her face, frowning. She kept having thoughts that didn’t quite seem like her own — like another voice was there whispering alongside her own. She waved him to the kitchen, pointing to the cabinet where she kept her alcohol. “I have just about everything, feel free to take whatever and we can sit and… maybe watch some shit Television afterwards. Did I see you watch Say Yes to the Dress??”

“Yeah.” Harsh should probably say a bit more, but… this whole thing was weird. She was real. And she was in his head. This kinda stuff was so far beyond him. It had to be something magic, there was no other explanation. He followed her into the kitchen, moving to the cabinet and grabbing the first decently full bottle he could find. “Yeah, you did. I… don’t usually though. I don’t really give a crap about wedding stuff, or I didn’t until we had that dream. Now I just keep thinking about it. And… other stuff. I’ve had the Miranda Rights stuck in my head for a week and I don’t know why.” He hadn’t heard those in person, in… a while. But Jane didn’t need to know about that part. He glanced over her, slight frown on his face. “Are you a cop?”

“The reality shows about weddings make for great tv.” Jane said with a shrug. She looked at him closely, squinting a little at him before she went to grab a couple of glasses from the cabinet. “I am a cop.” Jane nodded towards her coat rack. The chain where she kept her leather bound badge was hanging off it. “Which leads me to… asking about why I keep thinking about blood and turning people and what not…” She leaned against the counter, folding her arms across her chest as she stared at him. It was alarming, but she supposed some zombies couldn’t help but feed in old school ways. Brains, as she found out when she first did some research, were expensive. “I’m not planning on arresting you, don’t worry. But you’re a zombie, right?”

“I mean, I can’t really argue with that. I just never needed to know as much about dress shopping as I do now.” Harsh drifted about the kitchen, grabbing the first two mugs he could find. Pouring Jane a drink, he passed over her cup first before fixing his own. Shit. Well, there was that. He had to be more careful. Usually he was, but… most people didn’t exactly have a good look at the inside of his head. Wait. What? Zombie… huh. He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “So you’ve got me figured out already. Yeah, I’m a zombie. It’s not really something I broadcast. I try not to turn people much, some people want it. And sometimes--I work at the hospital, y’know? If there are people on their last legs… sometimes I ask if they want it.” The lies rolled from his tongue all too easily. Still, it wasn’t all that far from the truth. Now, if he could just keep his thoughts going in the right line, everything would be fine.

She was pretty sure alcohol didn’t work if after someone was a zombie - no wonder he had said to make it hard. Whatever made him feel better, she supposed. “Everyone needs a few dress shopping tips here and there. I can give you those, and also tips on how to burn 30 pounds of tule and jewels properly.” Jane gave a shrug. She raised an eyebrow though when he mentioned that sometimes people wanted the bite. Absentmindedly, she touched the scar on her neck. Had things with her and Jason gone down far different - had he told her, had she realized something was off about him… Jane wondered if she would have fulfilled every teenagers lust blinded dreams. She wrinkled her nose, and shook her head as she took a sip of the drink. “And you do it safely, then? Make sure they don’t go out and rampage against people when they wake up?

“I never say no to learning new things.” Harsh sipped at his drink. It wasn’t quite the same blood free, but it was fine. In his time, there had been plenty of people who had asked to be turned. He tried not to make a habit of it. The whole, being mentally tied together thing didn’t really have a lot of appeal. He could teach them to feed safely and set them free, that seemed good enough. Micromanaging sires sounded like a pain and a half. He nodded. “I try to, yeah. I supervise, make sure they’ve got some brains so they don’t lose it in the hospital. I know a couple places where they can get brains easy, and… mostly cruelty free,” he said, with a slight wince. “It’s tough, being… y’know, this. But we have to make do. I try to keep my head down. I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just wanna live my life. Well, un-life.”

Jane considered a moment. Harsh seemed to have things under control, from what he told her. Though his thoughts did tend to be among the reckless side, but she supposed she couldn’t really complain considering her day to day activities. She shifted on her feet, glancing out the window to look at the street below. “That’s what everyone keeps saying.” She said, looking at him with a shrug. “That it’s a struggle and that it’s tough.” Something to look forward too. But she was more interested in the concept of forever. She would be here until the end of time - if there ever was an end of time. So many people would get to die and she would still be here, witnessing history and witnessing whatever the world had to offer. Jane remembered the damn fight she had with Daniel, and with a low sigh, she resigned to block her old partner’s number in the morning.  That had to mean something, right? Her hand dropped from her neck, and she shook the thoughts off. If poor Harsh was boggled down by them right now, he shouldn’t be. “Why don’t we take the night off from all this, then?” She asked, head tilting slightly as she nodded too her television. “I’ve got quite a few seasons of Say Yes to the Dress taped. Probably an embarrassing amount.”

Watching Jane, Harsh shifted on the balls of his feet. He could kind of imagine. With her bite… it wasn’t like she could avoid it. Eventually, it would get her. He shrugged a little, offering a slight smile. “Hey, it’s not all bad though. I’ve been young and pretty for two hundred years now. I’ve seen the world and learned way more than I ever would’ve otherwise. I sorta look at it… not like an ending, it was just a new start, and that’s not a bad thing.” Smile growing a little, he nodded. “Works for me. I was pretty annoyed at first, but I’m getting kind of into it now. If I ever get married, I know exactly what kind of dress I’m wearing.”

“I prefer to look at it like that too,” Jane replied, matching his smile. There was some part of her - some vain part of her that hoped she died before she turned wrinkly. She didn’t have to worry about grey hair because she frequently got it down, and she was sure she would have to frequently get it down whenever she did eventually perish too. “It’s much easier to be content with what you have, rather than what you don’t.” Or what you won’t have in however many years. Jane moved from the kitchen, shooting a glare as the step stool gave another rattle from his cage, and sat on the couch, patting next her as she reached for the remote. “Oh yeah? Enlighten me.”

Maybe it was the fact that he had already spent so much more time being dead than alive, but honestly, Harsh kind of preferred the way he was now. Humans were so squishy. There were so many things he had done that he never even would’ve tried if he wasn’t already dead. “Yeah, you’ve got a whole un-life ahead of you. People always get hung up on the bits that make it rough, but I wouldn’t go back if I could. I’m good this way.” He followed her, sinking down onto the couch next to her. “Mermaid all the way. I gotta show off this figure. If you got it, flaunt it, right?”

“I guess it all depends on what you go through,” Jane thought about Morgan. Lying on the beach, pretending to be dead didn’t exactly scream well adjusted and Morgan had admitted as much too. They clashed on how Jane thought about her bite, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel bad for what had happened to her. Jane pushed the thoughts away, though, and raised a glass. “I’ll toast to that,” she said, taking another sip of her drink as she flicked the TV onto Say Yes to the Dress: Atlanta.

#wickedswriting #para #para harsh #harsh #lmfaooo

[nthnstrky007]

Unit Alias #1: “The Flow of Water Breaks the Dame!”

As the bullets whizzed passed my head, only one thought stood out from all the noise and panic around me: I know I should have eaten toast instead of that bagel this morning. It’s just, I get so tired of the same old whole wheat toast and almond butter; it’s not my fault the fabric of reality starts to fold in on itself everytime I choose something new for breakfast. After another twenty seconds of some mindless brutes trying to turn my apartment into a modern artist’s tribute to swiss cheese, a voice of remote reason finally speaks up:

“Leonardo Crews, please step away from the bean bag chair”.

I can’t help but roll my eyes. It’s her: Sharon Winstead. The woman who would surely be my handler if the US government had their way and I became a secret agent or lab rat or whatever the heck they’d want me to do with these powers. I stand up and make a couple steps to the right as I put my hands on my head. At least the government sent a nice pair of legs to yell at me.  

One of the armed boneheads she brought with her speaks up, ‘Why would you hide behind a froggy bean bag chair?”

“Cause who the hell would ever shoot a froggy bean bag chair?” I challenge him and the two other armored doofuses.

They all mumble and meet eyes until one of them sheepishly says: “he’s right…” 

Sharon, the not so love-able stick in the mud that she is, won’t let me have fun for too long. “Your work here is done unit Alias. Go downstairs and do the usual routine with the landlord; come back, as I planned, when you’re done”. 

A couple ‘yes ma’ams’ and military mumbo jumbo is thrown around as they leave. I can’t help but feel sorry for guys who would willingly join an organization that has the loyalty of a teenage boy after a positive pregnancy test. 

“Real smart fellas you have there.”

Sharon looks at me, I guess with a hint of disappointment. “You know as well as I that if they were going for the kill, you’d be dead”. 

“Along with a couple billion realtites and, knowing how much the universe seems to adore me, time itself. And what’s up with ‘your plan’ anyway? The military never came in guns blazing before. Don’t you geniuses know how important I am?” 

“Are you threatening us now Leonardo?”

I relax my arms at my side as I walk into the pantry. The universe is on my team, as always, when I see one of the only undamaged things is what I’m looking for. I walk out in a sufficiently better mood with my packet of poptarts. “I’m just asking questions that pertain to the continuation of existence itself”. 

Sharon scoffs and continues on: “Do you understand the magnitude of such threats, Leonardo?”

 I wave her off with my free hand after opening my second breakfast. “ What threats? And please, it’s Leo; I’m not an award winning actor, just a potential destroyer of the timestream” I see the red emerge in her face and can’t help but chuckle. It's a mystery to me how she was able to secure one of the most secretive and ‘important’ jobs in the world with such a short fuse. Despite the fact that she is totally unlikable, the babe has grown on me over the years so I give her restless mind a break: “Y’know I’m not gonna go awol, especially when you pay for all my streaming service. And, uh, time wouldn’t be destroyed, just altered in some terrible heinous way. Such as your occupation being changed to stripper.” 

She gives me one more uneasy look before moving on. “You have a place I can sit?” 

“You mean a place you geniuses haven’t shot up yet? Don’t make me say it.”

“The frog chair?” She groans.

“I do believe it's pronounced froggy bean bag chair.” 

She gives her eyes another roll as she sits down in the thing. “Can you sit with me?” 

Sharon likes to remind me that in some ways I’m still a normal human. An example of 

this being a woman with a face and a body like hers asking me to sit down with a voice like hers using a tone like that,  regardless of if she is a facist pig or not, I’m probably gonna sit with her. 

“What’s the prob Bob?” I sit criss-cross applesauce a yard or so across from her. 

To my disappointment, not exactly my surprise, she grows serious as soon as I sit down. 

“We can’t keep doing this dance Leonardo.” 

“Doing what dance?” I let out the question with a bit of playful innocence.

“That.” She takes a moment to think before she begins her spill. “The U.W.O is not going to remain patient. The fate of existence potentially depends on what you have for lunch and you refuse to follow the guidelines that we give you. You probably can’t count how many times you’ve been told this, but you’re an anomaly. The only thing we have to go off of is my father’s theories: the regular flow of time is completely dependent on you. Every decision you make can drastically change our world’s past and half the time we can’t even detect those changes. Not to mention, if certain parts of that theory are true, the effects you can be having on our future. Leo, history is a book that you can rip up on an unknowing whim and the future is more uncertain that it has any right to be”. 

“And yet we keep dancing…”

“Excuse me?” 

I look at her for a second thinking that she for sures knows where I’m going, but it becomes clear to me she doesn’t. “You’re coming here to warn me. The U.W.O  knows that you’re the only person I can stand getting yelled at by so they send you here every time I decide to live my life so you can flutter your eyes and tell me not to. How many times have you been here this month? I admit the whole shoot-em-up bit is new, but other than that this is the same old routine we’ve done for the past year. The  only difference is I’ve been doing it my whole goddamn life and you’ve been doing it for a fraction of yours”. 

The woman actually cracks a smile as she comprehends what I’m saying. I don’t know if it’s mocking or understanding me, but, seeing as I have nothing else to do, I let her spill. “You call this living Leo? I don’t know what you do to mess up the timestream, but, judging by the hours of footage that features you exclusively watching ‘He-man’ reruns, I sure as hell know it’s not living. What, you played a new video game? Flushed the toilet too fast? You’re not living; the life you’re leading is not worth risking history for”. The sarcasm and aggression starts to leave her eyes as she looks at my face. I begin to open my mouth in defense when she shushes me with a new, almost maternal, attitude. “But I didn’t come here to play our twisted game of house. I’ve been in contact with my father”.

The news strikes a rare chord of hope in me. Sharon’s father was the closest thing I had to a dad when I grew up in the compound. He was also the one who convinced the board of directors to let me out when I turned eighteen. “Let out” is an odd way of saying letting me live in a heavily guarded cell that just happens to be in an apartment building. He ended up deciding he didn’t want to be a mindless puppet and left the U.W.O along with all his research. Last I heard, which was a very long time ago, he was up to a more scholarly pursuit. “How is he?”

She smiles as she thinks of her father. “He’s getting philosophical in his old age. After he left, he started living like a hermit in some remote island in the Atlantic. A place they’d have trouble finding if they ever were to look; he’s getting into some rebellious stuff there Leo. He wants you to leave and come see him. He wants to end this dance.”

“By ‘rebellious’, do you mean some dooms-day shit?” the words come out as the hope comes out of me. “We don’t know what the reaction will be if I get in a boat or plane. We barely know what’s gonna happen if I leave this building again. Make fun of me all you want, but, you basically said it yourself, 80s tv is the only life I can safely lead”.

“He told me to trust him. If he’s wrong, the situation will be no worse than it was before”. I could easily read the doubt in her face. “Or at least to him.”

“So what? The world ending is the same as the world not ending? Existence is all a lie and it doesn’t matter anyway? Don’t tell me he’s become some quasi-intellectual pothead who posts on psychedelic-themed online forums.” 

She rolls her eyes in response to my joke. “He’s disillusioned with our current world authority. He lived his whole thinking a plantery world order would be a good thing, so much so he helped to achieve it. Apparently after all those years and work, he thinks their practices are going to end us all. The way he sees it, the world may just end tomorrow; it’s any day now to him. In a certain manner of words, he’s desperate.”   

“And you?” 

She gives me another genuine look. “I trust my father as a leader and I care about you. He believes it's the right thing to do and you can’t keep up like this. Some of the things I’ve had to do this past year is enough for me to give up on doing the right thing through the government. Your problem is a problem that we might be able to fix on our own and trying is a lot better than you just rotting here waiting to die. Any ‘director’ who doesn’t like that can screw off.”

I let my eyes widen. “No one’s in on this? Why’d you bring the unit with you? Surely the bigwigs wire you up before you take their dogs for a walk?” 

“Watch your words; dogs we are no more, unit Alias, at least, is on this. No wires or strings attached. The general consensus is the current plan of keeping the world safe from you is eventually going to collapse without change; I can’t say they have the personal stake that my father has with the way he views us as siblings”.   

“Can’t really blame them for being worried or not particularly liking me, but they’re not here because of  what happened because of my bagel?” 

“What?”

“You came here to break me out, not to punish me for eating a bagel instead of toast?”

Sharon pulls a phone out of her pocket and scrolls through. “Oh…”

“What?”

“The ephilfel tower was built in Germany”.  

#comedy #superhero #hero #comic books #action #adventure #ya #young adult #smart

[motleymoose]

Homecoming, Pt 2: Bosph, Ch1

Chapter 1

Confusing Practices Breed Confusing Outcomes

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorian, Gender Neutral Reader Words: 2.1k+ Warnings: More adjacent angst!!!

Summary:

I have no idea why the bounty hunter is being nice to me. Or rather nice-ish. I mean, I haven't been frozen in carbonite yet, so that's promising???

Homecoming Masterlist

By the time we landed on the outermost planet in the habitable zone, I was back to feeling like a normal being. I was clean, fed and shockingly uncuffed. The last had happened soon after the Mandalorian had left me in the hold. The cuffs had buzzed and loosened enough for me to slip out of them, and I was almost positive he’d done it on purpose. Just like giving me food, freeing my hands seemed strange and un-bounty-hunter-like, but I didn’t want to question it too much lest it all got ripped out from under me.

The flight hadn’t been that long, two days at the most in hyperspace. Luckily, my space sickness ebbed halfway through the trip. I hadn’t seen the bounty hunter since getting rudely awakened in the hold’s crawl space, but I didn’t mind it. I’d leave him alone if he’d leave me alone. And as far as ships went, the Razor Crest wasn’t too shabby.

But I was itching to get out of the hold and onto solid ground. Even if that meant seeing Mihcas.

Stretching in the cramped bunk I’d claimed as my own, I touch the walls on all sides, trying to soak in what little peace I could before my ultimate demise. Two days in the cargo hold had lightened my mood, even if it was only because I was off that backwater moon and in the skies again. The atmosphere down below was warmer than the upper deck, almost uncomfortably so. But as I had gotten used to the bantha moon’s heat, it didn’t bother me too much.

A sharp knock sounded outside my little haven before the curtain was ripped back. The Mandalorian, fully geared, glowered down at me. He flung a pair of cuffs at my midsection, and reflexively I curled up to protect myself. I wasn’t fast enough; the cuffs landed heavily on my stomach.

“Good morning to you too,” I muttered, flopping back onto the pillow and covering my face with my arms.

The whirring hum of the charging blaster warned me that he wasn’t in a good mood. But really, when wasn’t this Mando in a not good mood? Sighing heavily, I sat up slowly to pick up the cuffs. “This isn’t really necessary, y’know. There’s nowhere for me to run out there that isn’t under Mihcas’s thumb.”

The Mandalorian trained the barrel of his gun at my chest.

“Fine,” I whined in a pretty good impression of a bratty youngling. I locked my left wrist in first, then, with some frustration, my right, and held my hands out for inspection. The Mandalorian leaned into the bunk, rough leather gloves double checking my work, snugging the cuffs a little tighter with a practiced squeeze. He motioned for me to get out of the bunk, taking several careful steps back with his blaster still pointing at me. In the least graceful way possible, I wriggled my way out of the bunk. I’d dragged half the bedding with me, and I cursed angrily as I tried, unsuccessfully, to kick the tangle of blankets from my legs.

In one swift movement, the bounty hunter yanked on one of the sheets, instantly untangling me from the mess but knocking me off my feet and onto the floor. Dazed, I stared at the wires and ducts nestled cozily above me and wished that I was anywhere but on this fragging ship. A smart boot to the hip brought me back. Rolling onto my side, I pushed unsteadily to my feet and waited, frazzled, for the Mandalorian to reveal his plans. I frowned at him. He stared blankly back. We stood there, facing each other like that for what seemed like an eternity. My life was getting ready to come to an abrupt end, and the pressure and stress of it was almost too much to bear. I’d have preferred if he had said something scathing, something I could latch onto and be mad about, but all he gave me was silence.

I couldn’t take it anymore, not when I was about to die at the hands of my dosh-faced ex-boss.

“Well,” I said with about as much swagger as a nerfherder. “Let’s go get me killed.” I stepped boldly forward, purposefully not looking at the hunter, and headed for the hatch. A strong, solid arm hit me in the chest midstep, making me suck in my breath; my chest was still tender from our first encounter a few days ago. Salvaging what little balance and self-respect I had, I took a step backwards and snorted. “What?”

The helmet angled toward me, arm dropping to his side. “This… Mihcas. What is he to you?”

A harsh laugh bubbled up my throat. “The guy you’re turning me over to? He’s nothing, and everything,” I fumed. “Mihcas is the reason I’m in this mess. He owns me.” Swallowing back the bile and rage, I faced forward and lifted my chin. “I can’t take back all of the horrible choices I made, but I don’t have to accept what he believes is righteous, no matter what that does to me.” Striding past the silent Mandalorian, I approached the hatch controls. Fumbling with my bound wrists, I whacked the panel harder than I should’ve, bruising the side of my hands. The hydraulics hissed as the motors released the locks and lowered the ramp.

“Let’s go get this fragging show over with.”

The Crest’s hatch opened onto a rocky outcrop well back from the main road into the mining district. The sky was an unhealthy shade of orange, the air tinged with a metallic flavor that clung to the back of my tongue and stung my eyes. Bootsteps followed slowly behind as I marched down the slope of the ramp and onto the barren earth. Rubbing at my eyes did nothing except irritate them more, my tear ducts working overtime to wash out the pollution.

The bounty hunter paused in front of me. “Here,” he grunted, thrusting a portable respirator and goggles into my bound hands.

I blinked skeptically at him. He huffed and turned away, impatiently scanning the bleak landscape while I hastily kitted up. Once the mask and goggles were in place, and I was breathing easier, the Mandalorian took off at a stiff clip, heading towards a squarish blob on the horizon. Since there was nothing else I could do, I tagged along, easily pacing him but keeping a stride or so behind; I wasn’t the one wearing beskar, and I didn’t exactly feel like being pumped full of holes by the mercs patrolling Mihcas’s compound.

The compound was a full-day’s march from the Razor Crest over rough, unforgiving terrain. The hunter didn’t pause for breaks, and I didn’t ask, suffering screaming back and legs in silence. I’d be dosh if I turned whimpering coward now that I was facing Death, and I wouldn’t give the Mandalorian, or Mihcas for that matter, the satisfaction in seeing me break.

Dusk had fallen by the time we reached a shallow gully only a few miles from the perimeter fence. Trash and rubble were scattered across the ground, piled here and there in towering, teetering heaps. The bounty hunter had said little on our trek across the desolate land, only begrudgingly noting hazards in his monosyllabic way. With my throat parched and my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth due to the arid air filtering through the respimask, I wasn’t in much of a mood to talk either.

We passed countless piles of junk and rock, weaving our way through the haphazardly tossed garbage until we came upon a spot that was relatively sheltered compared to the rest. A larger hill of rubble had collapsed, drifting aimlessly into surrounding heaps. Some of the rocks had shifted along with it, creating a sort of cave that appeared dry and uninhabited. He waved me in, following close behind. Once inside, I allowed my knees to buckle, collapsing with a grateful groan onto the uncomfortable dirt.

A cracked boulder rumbled through the opening, the Mandalorian behind it. Positioning the rock at the entrance, he swung his rifle over his shoulders and laid it over his knees as he sat down on the makeshift seat. I eyed him for a moment, only a little worried about the shock-prongs at the end of the gun. Seeing as he wasn’t getting ready to electrocute me, I straightened out my back and rolled my shoulders and neck to work out the kinks. I sigh forcefully through the respimask and scrub my hair with my bound hands. It stuck out in odd spikes all over my head, and I looked absolutely devilish covered in the soot and grime of the polluted planet.

The Mandalorian shifted noisily, and I chanced another peek at him. He wasn't a particularly loud being, which was surprising for the amount of kit he packed, and the sound of him moving proved disconcerting.

“Something wrong?” I murmured, half accusation and half curiosity. My time around others of his creed had been brief, but even so I’d never encountered anyone remotely like him. His careful movements were always so calculated and quiet, and anything contradicting that was intriguing.

A crackly hiss blew over the vocoder, and he wearily dropped the point of his helmet to his chest. “The information you gave me was… accurate,” he admitted brusquely.

Eyebrows shooting upwards, I rolled painfully to my side and pillowed my head on my cuffed wrists. “Go on,” I rasped.

Noiselessly, he unclipped the canteen from his belt and handed it to me. Greedily, I tore off my respimask, unscrewed the cap and took a big swig. The water was tepid and stale, but I didn’t care; it was wet and I was thirsty. The liquid dribbled down my chin as I took another mouthful. Blissfully refreshed, I capped the canteen and gave it back, pulling the respimask back into place. “So. You believe me,” I croaked unquestioningly.

This time the sigh was unmistakable. He lifted his head and angled it away. “No,” he replied simply.

“I see.”

“Do you?” A hint of curiosity in his tone. Interesting.

“You don’t trust me, I get it. I don’t trust me; just look where we are.” Rolling my eyes vaguely at the trash surrounding us, I decidedly pushed off my arms into a sitting position so I could look at him easier. “I don’t know what info you got on me, and I sure as dosh don’t know what you found on Mihcas. But I can tell you this: he is not a man of his word, and he will kill me, and possibly try to kill you as well.” My hands trembled between my knees, and I curled my fingers into fists to stop it. Inhaling deeply, I looked down at my lap. “I know my job wasn’t strictly legal, but I tried my best to make it better, even if my best wasn’t the right thing to do at the time,” I mumbled, the guilt clawing its way up my throat. The shadowy ghosts began to scream and moan inside my mind, and I shook my head violently to stop the onslaught. Now was not the time to relive the past.

The long, biting pause that followed did nothing to chase the ghosts away. As I sulked amongst the rubble, fighting back the tears and the bile brought on by the guilt, the Mandalorian gazed stoically out onto the gully, gloved fingers tapping a jittery tattoo on the stock of his rifle. It was well into the night before he said anything.

“Do you know how to use a blaster.”

Raising my weary head sullenly, I squinted at his shadowy form in the opening. “I don’t like guns,” I replied to the nonquestion.

Exhaling in mild frustration, he repositioned himself to face me. “Come here,” he said, beckoning me to the entryway. Pale moonlight washed out the landscape, leaving it a land of gray shadows. I blinked a few times, letting my goggled eyes adjust to the dimness, then crouched beside him, elbows resting on my knees. Taking out his blaster pistol, he pointed at various sections, giving me a short lesson. “This is the chamber where the blast cartridges go. Once it’s primed, it’s ready to fire. Don’t point it at anyone unless you are willing to shoot, don’t pull the trigger unless you’re willing to kill.” He returned it to its holster and held out a gloved hand, palm up. “Give me your hands.”

Confused, I held out my hands. He punched a sequence into his vembrace controls and pulled on the cuffs. They loosened, slipping over my knuckles. “What are you doing?” I asked, bewildered by his actions.

Handing the cuffs to me, the bounty hunter jerked his head to the back wall. “Get some sleep.”

I nodded my head silently, taking the cuffs back to my spot. Setting them between me and the wall, I curled into a ball with my back facing the Mandalorian and fell into an uneasy sleep.

#moose writes #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #mando #mando fic #mando fanfic #mando fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fnafic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #star wars universe #angst #angst adjacent #almost angst #gender neutral reader #series #mandalorian series

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 32

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

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 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Interlude 

Writer’s note: This chapter felt like it took me forever! My creative inspiration went AWOL for a while and when it finally came back, it couldn't make up it's mind what it wanted to do. But, it's all good now. Big thank you to my lovely friend, Stef @chiefhiccstrid for reading over it when I wasn't feeling very confident about my writing! <3

The cove had become like a second home to them. Its seclusion made it homey and cozy and the perfect place to be. Even Toothless seemed to enjoy being there when he wasn’t chomping at the bit to go flying. The dragon looked forward to them visiting every day. He’d leave a wet, slobbery lick across Hiccup’s cheek. Astrid would laugh at her husband’s gross predicament and hand him the rag she usually carried now just for the occasion. Toothless knew better than to slobber on her. He’d nudge her with his nose, and she’d distribute scratches in his favorite spots. She’d catch out of the corner of her eye how Hiccup would watch them with a content little smile on his face.

When they weren’t flying or exploring, they hung around the cove playing with Toothless or doing weapons training or just lounging around. Toothless’ soft, warm belly was the perfect place to laze about watching the sky. Sometimes Astrid found herself lying on the ground with her head resting in Hiccup’s lap. She liked watching him from this angle – from any angle, really. She traced his jawline with her gaze, wondering if one day it’d be shaped differently. Everyone may look at him like he was a puny little twig, but Hiccup still had years to grow into a man. Astrid knew he wouldn’t stay like this -- just as she wouldn’t either. She wondered how he would change over the next few years. Would she even recognize the boy she married five years from now?

Astrid reached up, sweeping his long bangs aside. Her fingers lingered at his temple. “Looks like your hair needs a trim.”

Hiccup playfully flicked a strand of her bangs. “But I’m trying to adopt the broody warrior look you have going on.”

Astrid sat up, yanking the dagger from her boot. “I can cut it right here if you keep talking.”

“Okay, okay!” Hiccup held up his hands in defense as he got to his feet to put some distance between them. He gestured to her as he spoke to Toothless, “Such aggression in this one.”

Astrid glared and shook her head wearing a tiny smirk. She’d never bantered back and forth with anyone before. She’d watched the twins shoot back and forth all her life and couldn’t grasp why the silly ribbing they gave each other could be remotely fun. Now she knew.

Hopping up, Astrid nabbed her ax leaning against a boulder. “Going into the woods to work out.” She brushed by Hiccup, combing her fingers through his hair as she passed. He had the softest hair she’d ever seen on a Viking. Her fingers longed to dive into it. “Be back soon.”

He bid her bye. Astrid caught a glimpse of Toothless getting up, stretching like a lazy house cat as she jogged away. She’d probably come back to him and Hiccup wrestling or playing fetch.

Astrid climbed out the cove, ax strapped to her back—the trees unaware of their oncoming assault. Flinging her ax was invigorating. The thin coat of sweat that’d build up on her brow. The way her muscles opened, making her body feel lighter. Energized. She loved her workouts.

The ax sliced into the tree trunk with a satisfying split. Astrid jogged over and yanked it from the target, wood splinters spiking out from the trunk. A few more throws then she’d head back—

Astrid suddenly froze. Voices echoing in the distance caught her attention. She listened carefully, and within seconds recognized who the voices belonged to. Icy cold ran through her veins.

Oh no. Oh gods, NO!

She rushed toward the cove, ax firm in her grip. If it came down to protecting her husband and his dragon, she’d use it. The voices grew louder as she quickly approached, her fears confirmed. There were others in the cove with Hiccup and Toothless!

She slid through the narrow opening of the cove’s rocky lip. Pausing behind one of the boulders jutting up, she assessed the situation. Hiccup was atop Toothless, the dragon in a crouched, defensive position. Standing around them were the four other teens.

“You can control a Night Fury?” Tuffnut said in amazement. “What are you, some kind of wizard?”

“No, Tuff. I’m not a wizard. And I don’t control Toothless.”

Snotlout chortled in his obnoxious way. “Toothless! Haha-- that’s a dumb name!”

Toothless snarled directly at Snotlout, making him jump back with a shriek. The rest of the teens threw up their weapons. “I wouldn’t insult my dragon if I were you, Snotlout.”

Astrid took that as her cue to intervene. The situation could escalate and get out of control in an instant. Toothless could fire in defense or one of the teens could lash out. Either way, someone could get hurt or killed. She sprang down into the cove, her ax at the ready as she quickly approached the stand-off.

“If any of you so much as think about telling anyone about this, I will split you in half!”

“Woah! Woah! Astrid!” Hiccup’s alarmed cry rang through the cove.

“Astrid, you know about this!?” Fishlegs exclaimed.

“Astrid’s a co-conspirator!” Ruffnut blurted, looking ridiculously proud.

“Awesome!” Tuffnut high-fived his sister. “This keeps getting better and better!”

“Everybody!” Hiccup yelled above the cacophony. The other teens snapped their attention back to him, surprised by his outburst. “Let’s discuss this calmly. Why are you guys out here? How did you find us?”

“In the Great Hall a few days ago,” Fishlegs began to explain, “Bucket was talking about seeing a black dragon flying along the shore closer to this side of the island.”

“We were supposed to find the black dragon!” Snotlout whined, flinging his hands up in the air. “Not you!”

“No one believed Bucket because he was the only one who saw it and y’know, it’s Bucket,” Fishlegs went on. “But I had my suspicions that the black dragon could be a Night Fury.”

Tuffnut jabbed both index fingers towards Toothless. “And we were right!”

Fishlegs threw Tuffnut an incredulous look, touching his fingertips to his chest. “I was right. Wait--” His eyes suddenly averted to the ground, deep in thought then snapped back up. “Hiccup, is this the dragon you--?”

“Shot down a couple months ago and no one believed me?” Hiccup finished, patting Toothless on the head. “The one and only.”

“Whoa! This has got to be a kind of gift from the gods,” Ruffnut concluded. “How’re you controlling it?”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Again, I’m not controlling Toothless. I made friends with him. Trained him. Dragons aren’t the vicious killing machines we thought they were.”

Fishlegs gestured to Toothless. “But what if this one is an exception?”

“I thought the same thing at first, but he’s not,” Astrid finally chimed in, lowering her ax slightly. “We’ve trained the arena dragons as well and have had encounters with dragons in the wild. Hiccup saw passed the stereotype of what we thought dragons were and figured out how to train them.” Her sharp gaze softened as she glanced at Hiccup with admiration. “It took someone extraordinary to do that.”

Hiccup held her gaze, an adorable lop-sided smile gracing his lips. Astrid’s chest fluttered as her defensive position was momentarily forgotten.

“Can we have a dragon too?” Tuffnut blurted out. “Are there any Night Furies left? They cause maximum destruction and I want one!”

“You guys want your own dragon?” Hiccup asked, bewildered.

“Why not!?” Ruffnut retorted, “Riding a dragon would be be much cooler than killing one.”

Tuffnut pumped his fists above his head. “Yeah, ‘cause they destroy stuff!”

Astrid stepped between the teens and Toothless. “Wait! We’re not using dragons to destroy stuff. We’re trying to stop that from happening.”

“Oh,” the twins said in unison, hanging their heads. Ruffnut shrugged. “Riding one is still cooler than killing one, I guess.”

“Dragons are amazing creatures,” Fishlegs expressed. He touched his index fingers together, sheepishly. “I’ve actually been fascinated with them for a long time.”

Snotlout groaned as the twins threw him a bored look. “We know, Fishface. It’s not like your nerdy dragon obsession is a secret.”

Fishlegs’ eyes lit up. “But guys, listen! With dragons, we could cut the time of travel to almost nothing compared to using boats. Dragons could do the heavy labor that would take a dozen men to do. There’s all kinds of benefits to using dragons.”

“That’s well and good, Fishlegs,” Hiccup said, hopping off Toothless and giving his dragon a reassuring pat, “but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. No one on Berk knows about this but us, and quite frankly, I’m in a bit of shock that you guys are taking it so well. But that doesn’t mean all of Berk will. Berk needs to make peace with the dragons first before we could ever move on to utilizing them.

“I want to make peace between Berk and the dragons.” Hiccup stood beside Astrid, gently clasping her shoulder. “Astrid is with me, but are you guys with me too?”

“We definitely are!” Ruffnut answered with an enthusiastic YEAH from her brother as they banged helmets.

Fishlegs whimpered, eyeing Toothless cautiously. “As terrifying as this Night Fury is staring at me, I’m in.”

Every eye fell on Snotlout, who had shrunk back behind the group. “Snotlout?”

Snotlout’s eyes darted across the group as everybody watched him. A growl tore from his chest and he crossed his arms. “Fine! I’m in too.”

Astrid swung her ax over her shoulder, casually stepping up to Snotlout. “Good, because I would have had to kill you if you weren’t.” She leaned in close to him. “Remember, I still can if you get loose lips.”

“You wouldn’t,” Snotlout challenged, eyebrows pulling together.

Astrid’s eyes narrowed. “Try me, Jorgensen.”

Hiccup gently pulled her back by the waist. “Nobody is killing anyone.” He swiveled around, silently asking them to gather around him. “It’s of the utmost importance that you guys keep this a secret. If word gets out that there’s a Night Fury on the island, Toothless will be hunted down and killed. We could all be exiled or executed for treason.”

“Way to put a damper on the cool, blowing-up-stuff part of this,” Tuffnut groused, throwing his head back dramatically.

“Are you guys with us?”

Astrid couldn’t help the smile that bloomed as she heard a resounding yes (though Snotlout was the least enthusiastic). In such a short time, the other teens had gone from bullying and shunning Hiccup to accepting him and following his lead. Astrid could see more and more the influence Hiccup could have. How his persuasion could turn people down a better path. She wondered if he’d had it in him the whole time. All he needed was something to draw out the hidden potential. She knew that something was Toothless.

***

“Which dragon would you give Snotlout?”

“Definitely the Monstrous Nightmare.”

“You’d give Snotlout the most dangerous dragon on our team?”

“He’s not so dangerous, are you, big guy?” Hiccup patted the Monstrous Nightmare between the nostrils. The dark orange dragon snorted in agreement. “Besides, I think he’d keep Snotlout’s enormous ego in check.”

Astrid snorted. She didn’t think that was possible, but-- “It’d be a miracle if someone could.”

The evening before when the other teens had discovered their secret, Astrid had been wary of letting them return to the village. Her and Hiccup had privately discussed trust among the group. She knew the others weren’t going to intentionally rat them out (though she was still on the fence with Snotlout), but what if they accidentally let it slip? Fishlegs was known for cracking under pressure. The twins would probably lose all sense and try to ride a dragon during lessons.

“It’s a risk we’re going to have to take,” Hiccup replied.

They agreed on introducing the teens properly to the arena dragons, which was also a huge risk but one that they needed to take to move forward.

“What about the others?” Astrid asked, flinging a fish to the left Zippleback head, the other head snapping to try and snatch it first.

“The twins would get the Zippleback. You probably need two people to fly it.”

“Can you imagine the twins on the back of a dragon? They’ll probably take turns trying to knock each other off.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me. That leaves the Gronckle with Fishlegs.”

“And I get my girl.” Astrid hugged Stormfly’s horn as the Nadder squawked happily. “Do you think we’ll be able to really put together a team of dragon riders?”

Astrid knew it had to of crossed Hiccup’s mind before. Vikings and dragons could be an unstoppable force if united. Not that they wanted to go out conquering or anything – there was no need in spreading conflict – but Berk did have enemies besides dragons. A team of dragon riders could play a vital part in pacify the enemy.

“I hope so. One day. We could be Berk’s first line of defense if any enemies attack, whether that be people or dragons. I don’t want another war, but if it were to happen, we’d have that security.”

Though there was a collective need for peace throughout the village, fighting kept blood pumping through Vikings’ veins. Would Berkians know how to act if they didn’t have to swing an ax or a sword? Would she know how to act without the conflict? Maybe dragons would be the answer to that urge.

“We’re here!” Ruffnut announced in a sing-sang voice.

Hiccup and Astrid turned to see the other teens waiting at the barred door of the arena’s mouth.

“It’s way too early in the morning,” Snotlout grumbled, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.

Fishlegs whimpered and cringed back at the sight of the dragons staring at them from the arena floor…free from their cages. “Why are the dragons already out?”

Hiccup walked toward the lever to open the bars. “We couldn’t have a proper introduction through cage doors, now could we?”

The bars raised and the others strolled in, the twins up front while Fishlegs and Snotlout hung back hesitantly. This was it. No turning back.

“Welcome to how to train your dragon!”

Tags: @martabm90​ @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @hey-its-laura-again

#httyd fanfiction #hiccstrid #arranged marriage au #the home we built together

[p4nkow]

You take my breath away - part IV

It’s been sooo long but finally here it is! I’m pretty sure the reader now hates me but damn, I’m a sucker for angst

Part I, Part II, Part III

Summary: reader has always dreamt of being an actress and she gets the chance of a lifetime when she’s cast as Dominique Beyrand in the infamous biopic about the legend himself, Freddie Mercury. But what will happen when she gets to know better the man who plays his love interest in the movie, Roger Taylor? Will Ben and Y/N’s story be as lucky as the one of characters they portray or will they be starcrossed lovers? Because it happens that things might get complicated because of Ellie, Ben’s long-term girlfriend.

Enjoy and pls, please!, let me know what you think. Here’s some visual evidence ;)

March 20th, 2019

You couldn’t stop looking at the script, reading the lines over and over as you tried to catch its essence. But God knows where your mind was — you were so bloody nervous about this. You belonged to theatre, that’s where everything’d started and your heart belonged to the stage. You’d been lucky enough to be cast in a Hollywood movie and you will be forever grateful for that chance, but Broadway? Oh man, there was no way you’d make it.

Callie — your manager — had informed you of the chance to play the role of Satine, the female lead in the new adaptation of Moulin Rouge. Just by reading the script you were simply amazed by it. But at the same time you were terrified.

You were torn between giving it a chance and trying not to think about how humiliated you’d have felt whether you wouldn’t make it. Let’s be honest, making it in Broadway was simply impossible.

As you tried not to think about it, you decided to take a look at the clothes Callie had sent you for the upcoming press tour to promote BoRhap. Soon enough interviews, conferences and meetings would be starting and you had no idea how to handle all of that.

You were lost in your thoughts when you got a notification of a new message and you couldn’t help but smile by reading who it was from.

Ben had texted you “You busy?”

You bit your lower lip, typing without hesitation “Nope”, and not even a few seconds later your phone was ringing – Ben was calling you.

“Hello, Jones”, You said by picking up the call. You really tried to get rid of the silly smile that stuck on your face but you failed.

“Hey, wifey.” His deep voice made your heart skip a beat. God, you missed him. You hated the fact that even if the two of you lived in the same city you barely had the time to see each other. “So, are you busy?”

You sat on the couch with a deep sigh, now curious because of his question. “Nope, I’m just enjoying the fine art of doing literally nothing.” And by saying so you put away the script with a guilty look.

“Sounds fun”, He said with a chuckle. “Is it too bold of me to ask to hang out together?”

A shiver of excitement run down your spine just at the thought of it. “Anything in mind?”

“I just got out of the gym and while walking home I saw this video library – I immediately thought of you and so I bought an old DVD of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I know how much you love musicals.”

You let out a little squeak of excitement at his words but then your mind immediately went to the thought of a very sweaty Ben after a hard workout. You bit your lower lip and tried to focus back on the subject of the conversation. “Yes!”, You replied with maybe too much excitement.

He burst out into laughter and you leaned against the backrest of the sofa, eyes closed as you thought of him. “Gimme half an hour.”

“Shall I order some pizza?”, You suggested.

“I could bring it.”

“All you have to bring here is your ass and that DVD, Jones. Hurry up”, You joked and after ending the call and ordering some pizza you rushed to put your place in order.  

You picked up all the tees and jeans you’d forgotten all around the flat, alongside with all the shoes that had been forsaken in the most remote places. When, fifteen minutes later, you were satisfied with your cleaning job, you went to your room to get a look at yourself in the mirror.

Sweatpants and a giant, blue hoodie – which were really comfy, to be honest – weren’t the right choice to impress Ben, so you went for a grey sweater and black yoga pants. Casual and not bold at all.

The pizza guy arrived even before Ben and you were tempted to eat all by yourself when you heard the doorbell for the second time in ten minutes.

“Sorry, I’m late”, He immediately said by giving you an apologetic look.

“I’m glad you made it ‘cause I’m starving, Jones.” You stepped aside to let him in and by doing so you gave him a better look. He was wearing a black tee, matched with the sweatpants, and a blue hoodie half-opened. He was also wearing a beanie and it looked so damn good on him. Pity that he took it off as soon as he stepped into the flat.

“’m sorry, it took me longer than expected. Here it is.” He extended you the DVD and you grabbed it, walking towards the TV while saying “Take a load off. Mi casa es tu casa.”

“Gracias”, He quickly replied and you grinned at him.

“Any news?” You asked while inserting the DVD on the player, giving him a quick look from above your shoulder.

“Joe’s coming in a few weeks.”

“Oh really?” You grabbed the remote control and stood up, reaching him in the sofa.

You sat right next to him and he smiled at you, his green eyes lighting up by doing so. “Yeah, coming for the interviews.”

“Oh right. I’d forgotten it.” You struggled with the remote control but somehow you managed to play the movie.

“There’s more”, Ben said, his eyes fixed on yours. He looked deadly serious and you gave him a worried look.

“What it is?”

You noticed the bob of his Adam’s apple and he slip his fingers through his hair still half-wet, taking a deep breath before replying “I’ve finally received the offer for that movie I auditioned for.”

You parted your lips in surprise, the corners of your lips lifting in a proud smile. “And that’s amazing! Why are you saying it like you don’t like it at all?”

“The filming won’t take place here”, He started and he didn’t look away from you not even for a second.

“Oh”, You softly replied, nodding slowly. “And where is it gonna be?”

“Mainly LA but also Italy and United Arab Emirates.” He was waiting for your reaction and you forced yourself to smile at him.

You cleared your throat and grinned at him, even if you were still processing what he’d just told you. You won’t be seeing him for months. “That means you’re going to facetime me while drinking some bloody good wine in a breath-taking Italian city.”

Your words made him smile and the knot on your throat seemed to disappear slowly. “I will”, He replied while nodding, but you could tell he was still nervous about that. “But I will miss most of the BoRhap press tour. Shooting starts in June.”

You placed a hand on his arm, smiling again as you tried to reassure him – the little line between his brows made you realise that this situation concerned him so bloody much. Of course you were a bit disappointed – you were eager to start the press tour just to spend more time with him, but what could you do?

“And that’s okay. It ain’t a big deal, Ben. Y’know, we’re gonna make it without you, too”, You tried to joke.

“I know”, He replied with a small laugh, placing his hand on top of yours. “But it kills me not being with the boys. With you.”

“Ben”, You whispered, meeting again his gaze. You relaxed your features and placed a hand on his face, gently caressing it. “Maybe I'm going to pair up with Joe”, You joked.

“Huh?” He asked with a devilish grin and you smiled. Maybe it was because of the movie or because of the entire situation, but you felt too bloody bold.

That's why you placed a knee on the sofa and you managed to sit on his lap under his surprises gaze. His brows were lifted and he had a half-smile on his face as he put both his hands on your hips.

“Should I worry?”, He asked with a hoarse voice. You leaned towards him, his face a few inches from yours as you replied with a soft whisper “And why should you?”

Your hand, which was placed on his shoulder, slipped on his clothed chest — you could still feel his toned muscles from above his tee.

“Y/N.” You ignored his questioning tone and without moving your gaze from his you unzipped his hoodie with slow movements. From the look on his face you understood that the totally knew what you were up to. And he didn't want you to stop.

“Ben.” Your voice was low and your breath was starting to get heavier and heavier. His hands moved from your hips to your thighs and thanks to the thin fabric of your pants you could easily feel the warmth of his touch on your skin. You wanted more. “Why you should worry about me and Joe?”, You repeated.

“Because”, He started, leaning towards you. His lips were almost touching yours as you slowly removed his hoodie, sliding it from his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. “You're my girl.”

His words sent shivers all over your body as your grin became a proper smile. His hands were again on your hips, lifting up your sweater and revealing your bare skin, which he gently caressed.

His calloused hands due to his hard work went up and up in your chest, caressing your chest from under your sweater as you bit your lower lip. His green eyes never left yours and you felt your emotions amplified under his staring gaze. “Am I? Your girl?”

Even though his gentle touch was making you feel like Heaven, you tried to stay focused — you raised your arms when he completely lifted your shirt, getting rid of it and dropping it to the floor. There was only your bra left to cover your chest and you felt yourself blush under his staring.

He looked at you like you were Aphrodite and he was Mars, like you were the only woman in the world. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his breath on you, sending shivers down your spine. “'f course you're my girl.”

And let’s just say that the movie was long forgotten — you had better things to do. A few hours later you were laying on the couch, his legs intertwined with yours as he played with your fingers. He was spooning you, his chin placed on your shoulder as every now and then he placed kisses on your arm.

“Do you have any news?” He suddenly asked in a low tone and you were about to panic. You didn’t know why you wanted to hide the Broadway-thing so bad, but that’s exactly what you were doing. And guilt was eating you alive when you replied “Nope.”

April 15th, 2018

Lucy was the only one to know about the audition — you needed someone to share the weight of that thing and thankfully she was still in London. She’s been very supportive since the very first moment and she was always there when you had mental breakdowns because you didn’t nail a note or because you didn’t feel good enough for the role.

You were terrified and anxiety was eating you alive during the drive to the audition and Lucy noticed it. She placed a hand above yours, which was nervously sliding up and down your thigh, and gave you a supportive smile. “You’ve got this”, She whispered in her sweet voice.

“What if I screw it up?” Your whispers caught Callie’s attention, who tried to remain focused on driving rather than trying to understand what the two of you were saying.

“You’ll be amazing. And if” She added, underlining the ‘if’ by saying it louder. “If you don’t make it, with a huge if, there are plenty of other roles and companies.”

“I know”, You whispered back. “But it’s Broadway!”

She pursed her lips and inhaled deeply. “Did you tell Ben?” Her question didn’t surprise you at all — she knew that there was something up between the two of you and she didn’t really understand why you wanted it to be a secret.

The truth was that you didn’t know either. You should’ve been proud of it — you were about to do an audition for Broadway, freakin’ hell! But the idea of seeing Ben’s pitiful look after telling him you didn’t make it was probably the reason why you kept it a secret. You didn’t need anybody’s pity.

And Lucy wasn’t surprised when you shook your head ‘no’. “Y/N!” She said your name as a reproach and you sighed deeply.

“I know!” You replied in a whisper and Lucy gave a quick look at Callie. “I will, okay? But only if I make it.”

She gave you a death stare and you felt so bloody guilty under her stare that you had to look away. When Callie told you “We’re almost there” by giving you a look through the back mirror, your heart sank. Anxiety was eating you alive and you gave a long look to Lucy seeking for her support. She grabbed your hand and gave you a little smile, sign that she still supported you even if she didn’t share your thoughts about it.

When five minutes later you got out of the car, you mentally repeated the lyrics of the song you were going to perform in order not to overthink about the audition. The room was full with people who looked exactly like you and that sight brought back the memory of the day you auditioned for the role of Dominique.

Nothing was the same since that day — not only you’ve had a chance to play a strong, independent woman but also you’ve been lucky enough to have such a wonderful cast to support you. Moreover, being cast as Dominique gave you the chance to meet Ben and you will be forever grateful for that.

You were lost in your thoughts and in the memory of that day when you heard someone calling your name. “Y/N?” The voice of the woman was familiar but yet you didn’t recognize her until you moved your gaze to corner of the room where she was sitting.

To say that you were shocked was and understatement. Ellie was looking at you with her big, green eyes and a grin on her face. Her hair was darker and shorter than you remembered and that’s probably why you didn’t recognise her at first.

“Ellie?” You raised your brows in surprise and she waved at you as a sign to approach her.

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you! It’s good to see a familiar face!” Her tone was cheerful but you didn’t like at all the look on her face. She was up to something and you could tell it by the way she narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, it is”, You murmured, faking a smile. You quickly looked away and cleared your throat. You suddenly realised that with Ellie there, auditioning for the same role, there was a chance that Ben’d find out about this from her.

“Did you prepare both of the songs?” You moved your gaze back to her by hearing her question and you faked a tight smile. You slowly nodded, reciprocating the politeness.

“Yeah. I loved working on them.”

“Oh, it was so fun working on ‘The show must go on’. And I bet that for you it was even funnier, being in Bohemian Rhapsody and everything.” You were going on a dangerous ground and you didn’t like it at all. It just worsened the situation. All you wanted to do was to call Lucy and get the hell out of there.

“It really was, yeah.” She should’ve understood by your answers that you really didn’t want to talk about it. But she didn’t.

“And what does Ben think about it?” You forced yourself to look at her nonchalantly and you faked a smile.

“He’s very supportive, y’know. He’s very excited.” Geez, you were a terrible liar. Terrible, terrible liar. Guilt was already eating you alive.

You moved your gaze to the door of the auditioning room, which swung open as a girl walked out. You were now more nervous than ever and you were starting to get sweaty.

“Good, yeah. He’s always been very supportive, even with me. We had this ritual of watching a musical whenever one of us had an audition.” She lowered her gaze and smiled before going on, as if remembering something dear to her. “Our favourite was The Rocky Horror.”

It was like receiving a punch in the stomach and besides the initial hurt and anger you felt something completely new to you – jealousy. You were so bloody jealous that you’d even stopped thinking about the audition.

You just gave her a quick nod before looking away from her, clenching your jaw as you tried to ignore her. You were nervously tapping your feet on the floor and you wished you’d told Ben. You needed his support and you regretted not telling him more than anything.

“Ellie Wright.” A woman was standing right in front of the auditioning room and she gave a quick look at the waiting room through her glasses as she called Ellie in a loud voice. She squeaked in excitement and gave you a quick look before standing up. She followed the lady in the room and you sighed, more nervous than ever.

You unlocked your phone and you scrolled through your contacts, looking at Ben’s for a few moments. You were unsure whether to call him or not, given that you definitely needed his support. But there was a chance you wouldn’t have been cast as Satine and you hated when people looked at you with pity. And you really didn’t want to go through that.

So you locked your phone again and you put it away. Ellie got out of the room ten minutes later with a giant smile on her face and an hour later the woman called your name.

It was your turn.

South London - May 7th, 2018

Normally you hated your birthday – you were firmly convinced that it was just a day like the others, but your mom always insisted on celebrating it. And so you always indulged her, with birthday cakes and everything.

But it was different this year. Ben’d insisted for you to go to his place and have lunch with the rest of your cast mates before going out for the night. Given that you hadn’t seen Joe, Gwil and even Rami in weeks, you’d gladly accepted his proposal.

That’s how you ended sprawled in his couch, chatting with the boys while sipping a glass of wine. “So, a few weeks back I met this girl”, Joe started and you exchanged an amused look with Ben, sure that he was about to tell an absurd story of his.

Gwil narrowed his brows and looked at him with interest and Lucy was softly giggling due to something that Rami’d told her.

“And somehow we ended up talking about Star Wars.” Ben sighed at Joe’s words and you chuckled. His hand was resting on your thigh, gently caressing it with his thumb. And it was the nicest feeling ever. You placed your head on his shoulder and he slipped his fingers through his hair, pushing some locks of hair out of his face. “And she said she liked the Star Wars prequels better than the originals!”

“Disqualifying”, Ben murmured under his breath and Joe looked at him with a horrified look. “Exactly!”

“It should’ve been a dead giveaway, man.” You moved your amused gaze to Rami and Ben turned his head towards you to place a soft kiss between your hair.

The boys knew you were a thing and it wasn’t a problem for you to be this close in their company. “You’re so beautiful. Absolutely stunning”, Ben whispered in your ear and you grinned at him.

“You really think so?”, You whispered back and he just nodded, his green eyes fixed on yours as the boys kept talking about the Star Wars trilogy. You but your lip, blushing a bit under his staring gaze and he grinned at you. “Don’t blush, love. There’s no need. Well, not after everything we’ve done.”

“Ben!”, You said in a little too loud tone and he softly laughed. By giving a quick look at the room you noticed you’d caught Lucy’s attention and she just smirked at you, as if knowing exactly what you and Ben were talking about.

You were about to reply but you’ve been interrupted by the doorbell. Both you and Ben turned towards the door and then he said “I’ll go get it.”

And you watched him standing up and walking towards it, closely following his movements while taking another sip of whine. And you almost chocked by seeing Ellie at the door, holding a leash.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying nor you couldn’t understand why she’d brought Frankie with her and you were more than surprised to see Ben nodding towards you.

Ellie’s eyes met yours and she waved towards you and she gave you a sign to join them. You exchanged a confused look with Lucy, who was also looking at them, and you placed your glass on the coffee table before standing up.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the knot in it, and you smiled once you’d gotten to Ben’s side. He surrounded your waist with his arm and you gave him a surprised look before looking at Ellie.

“Hey”, You said with a polite smile. Her smile was the fakest you’d ever seen but you didn’t say anything about it.

“Happy birthday! Ben just told me you guys were celebrating.” She vaguely nodded towards the living room and you nodded.

“Oh, thank you. And yeah, it’s also an opportunity to spend some time with the boys, y’know.”

“Yeah”, Ben softly murmured and nodded at your words. Ellie moved her gaze to him and the look in her eyes completely changed the moment she handed him the leash, Frankie wagging her tail at her feet.

“A friend of mine told me you still haven’t got the call from the company so it must be a good sign. They rejected me but there’s still hope for you.” It was like receiving a punch straight in the stomach.

You parted your lips in surprise but you still managed to fake a smile, forcing yourself to just nod at her words. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything but you could easily feel Ben’s questioning gaze staring at you. It didn’t take him much to do some math and get what Ellie was saying, so he bent down to pet Frankie as you said goodbye to Ellie.

You closed the door with a weight in your chest and you leaned against it, arms crossed and brows narrowed. Ben let go of Frankie, who went straight to the living room where the boys were laughing out loud. Ben stood up and rubbed his chin, avoiding your gaze. You could easily tell he was mad by the way his jaw was clenched and his features tensed.

“Ben?”, You said in a soft voice, trying to catch his attention. He was simply standing right in front of you, a hand placed on his hip as he heavily breathed.The moment you’ve feared for weeks had arrived and you had no idea how to handle it.

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice was low and hoarse.

You sighed deeply but you didn’t look away from him, not even for a second. When you finally met his gaze you couldn’t even read the look in his eyes — it was full of different emotions. “I was gonna tell you if I’d have made it.” And it was the truth.

But Ben didn’t seem to believe. “Yeah, right.”

You narrowed your brows at his tone and you shook your head in disbelief. “I didn’t want me— us, I didn’t want us to be under any illusion.”

“What was she talking about anyway?”, He asked as if he’d completely ignored your words.

You cleared your throat and looked away from him. “Moulin Rouge.”

“South London theatre?”

And he knew what your answer’d have been just by meeting your gaze once again. “Broadway.”

He let out a laugh in disbelief and he seemed hurt by your lies. “Broadway”, He repeated in a low voice, shaking his head. “Did the boys know about it?”

His assumption pushed you to take a step towards him. “What? No!”

“Not even Lucy?”

You bit your lower lip and looked away from him, silently giving him the answer he wanted.

“You guys okay down there?”, Rami asked out loud to catch your attention. You looked away from him but Ben turned towards the living room and gave him a little nod.

“You always say that we need to be more present in each other’s life and all that shit and I have to find out that you auditioned for Broadway — Broadway, for fuck’s sake! — from my ex girlfriend!”

“I already told you I didn’t want us to be under any illusion!”, You tried to justify yourself but Ben was fuming.

“But Lucy knew”, He said in a louder tone, catching his guests’ attention. He swore under his breath and looked away from you.

“I needed her support.”

“Yeah, but not mine”, He quickly replied. You tried to take a step towards him but he backed away. His rejection hurt you and he noticed it, but he didn’t do anything about it.

“Ben, you know that’s not how it is.”

He spread his arms wide open as he said “That’s exactly how it looks to me!”

You looked away as you felt your eyes becoming glossy at his words and you cleared your throat. “Oh don’t you tell me about need if you’re clearly with me just to forget about her.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Now he was mad, his accent heavier as he looked at you in disbelief.

“I’m not that stupid, Ben!”, You spat, throwing your arms in the air. “I know the way you look at me and sure as hell I know the way you look at her!”

His brows have never been more narrowed and his lips were parted in disbelief at your words. “Are you serious right now? Jesus, I can’t fuckin’ believe it!”

The boys had noticed that something was wrong and they’d moved to the back garden without you noticing it. “Yes, Ben. I’m bloody serious right now. You told me all that shit ‘bout you being over her and me being your girl but it’s all bullshit, Ben. Bullshit!” You were now shouting, gesticulating as tears of anger ran down your cheeks.

“Y/N”, He softly said and you sobbed, looking away from him. Well, that little spat escalated quickly in a huge, painful fight.

“Y’know what, Ben? Looks to me that you’re desperately trying to recreate that lovely fairytale you were living with Ellie. But guess what? I’m not Ellie, I’ll never be her. I deserve better than this.” You words were nothing but a whisper by now and they’d crushed both you and Ben.

He moved his gaze to the floor and you heard him sniffing, but he didn’t say anything. And you realised you were bloody right.

You shook your head in disbelief and you quickly walked past him in order to go get your purse in the living room. There was no way you could stop the tears and you hated that feeling. When you went back to the front door, Ben was still standing there. He hadn’t moved at all and he was looking at you with his big, green eyes.

The way he whispered your name gave you goosebumps but he said nothing to make the situation any better, and that’s why you walked away.

Taglist: @caborhapch @ohtheseboysilove @classy-fangirl @royalblueviper @rogers-weirdo @geek-and-proud @mrsbenhardyx @julessbrown @the-little-warbler  @beyrxnd @benders-diamond-earring @radiob-l-a-hblah @luvborhap @mrsmazzello @orchideax @gardengirl-18 @dearestdeaky @brianandthemays @ixchel-9275

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[incoherentbabblings]

First Date (7/9)

Tim has one more test to pass before Bruce will allow him out as Robin. Like Dick and Jason before him, he has to avoid being caught by Batman for one night. He has already failed once, and is determined to succeed this time. Determination which might not count for much when Stephanie Brown is on the run from the mob. Her mother kidnapped as a way to threaten her father, Stephanie manages to escape and run into Tim. Unable to leave Stephanie alone when she is in need, Tim decides to try and multi-task. All he has to do is rescue Stephanie’s mother, take down the mob, avoid Batman, and get Stephanie to agree to a proper date all in one night. Absolute anarchy ensues  Ao3 link here!

“Don’t suppose there’s a spare Robin suit in here Oracle?”  Asked Tim, rummaging through assorted shelves.  There were some black clothes, armoured no doubt, but nothing red, yellow or green. 

“No, I’m afraid you are not going to be able to save the day looking like a traffic cone.”

Tim sighed and began stuffing a belt full of explosives, sharp things and sticky things.  He looked for items that could, in general, cause the most chaos in a warehouse filled with men with guns and a (potentially) unconscious (dead?  No.  Not dead until there’s a body.) bat.

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Then Stephanie and I take full responsibility if it goes belly up.”

“This is serious!  You are not –”

Tim angrily tugged a pair of shoes off the shelf.

“I swear if someone else says I’m not ready or I’m not taking this seriously… I can do it.  I’ve been training for years!  I can do it!”

“I could lock you in here and that would be the end of it.”

“Then I will start opening up my stitches Ms Disembodied Voice From Above.” Stephanie snarked, sat on the table aside Tim.  She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail, a few pieces of hair too short to make it to the elastic fell cutely on her forehead and neck. 

Tim pulled a face.  “Please don’t do that.”

“If she lets us out, I will not do that.”

Tim huffed, walking over to a counter.  Stephanie leered as he stripped down and then geared up, assorted straps holding belts and containers in place.  He really was preparing for whatever could be thrown at him. 

“Anything for me?”

“You… are staying in the car.”

“The batmobile?  That car?”

“Yup.”

Rolling her shoulders, she mused on that thought for a moment.

“Can it shoot things?”

“Not with bullets but…”

“I can help from within the car though right?”

“Oh yeah, knowing Batman there’s probably a rocket launcher in that thing.”  He realised what he’d said, and whirled round, trousers halfway up over his underwear.  His eyes were wide, like he genuinely thought she would blow up half of the Narrows.

“Forget about that part.”

Resisting the urge to laugh, she nodded very seriously. “I promise I won’t blow anybody up.”

“The car can do lots of things, Oracle can help you help me.  Right O?”

Oracle gave a very deep sigh that crackled oddly with her vocal alteration.

“Yes.  I can do that.”

“Thanks O.  You can help Steph, promise.  Also, there isn’t much place safer than the Batmobile.”

“…I can live with that.  But what about you?”

“I have more equipment on me than I ever have had before.”  He reached over to a pocket and pulled out a small cylinder.  When he flicked it in certain manner, it extended at both ends into a staff.  It looked very good for smacking people with.  Tim whirled it between his hands a few times, getting used to the weight of it.

“You know Nightwing says I’m better at the bo staff than him.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I can’t beat him hand to hand, and when his got his escrima sticks… but if we’re on equal standing…  I can floor him.”

Stephanie smiled, fascinated by his tentative show of confidence.  Tim snapped the staff and it reduced once more.  He pocketed it in one of the pouches round his waist.

Muttering to himself, he paced around, looking for anything else to take. 

“Okay.  Think that’s it.  Let’s head out.”

He moved to Stephanie, getting ready to pick her up.  She pushed him away and ignored his slight look of betrayal.  Stephanie didn’t look like she was still made at him, so instead he was left confused.  She kept her hand on his chest, a compelling touch.   

“At least put a mask on Tim.”

“Huh?” 

“You’re gonna go superheroing right?  Superheroes need a mask!”

“She’s right y’know.”

“Thank you!”  She turned her eyes upwards briefly, but returned them quickly to Tim’s, who had tensed at the two women ganging up on him.  She squeezed his shirt, and he nodded, turning away to look for one.

Folding her arms, Stephanie laughed when Tim returned to her, looking somewhat more like a vigilante. 

“Now we’re ready.”

****

If Tim were honest with himself, his driving of the batmobile was a bit dodgy.  He was used to driving his little red car, not a hulking tank that the batmobile was akin to.  He was impressed with how roomy it was though.  The steering wheel was less of a circle and more like what could be found in racing cars (or arcade games) which made Tim a little clunky with it trying to turn corners.  He was trying to go fast, but the car definitely went faster than the average Ford, and despite her impatience, Stephanie was understanding of his nervy driving. 

“Batman’s never let you drive the batmobile before, huh?”

His eyes jutted away from the road, but a slight swerve made him jolt back to full attention.  “Oh, oh no.  Oracle is the only one who can do that.  And she does it remotely.  Don’t even think Nightwing’s…”  They bumped into another lamppost as they turned a corner.  “Whoops.”

“I’m sure the lamppost is more damaged than the car.”

“Oh sure, this thing could take a nuke blast and survive.”

“Really?”

“Well, no.  Probably not.”

“Hmm.”

“It is pretty sturdy though.”  Looking at the GPS on the dashboard, Tim saw they were getting nearer the warehouse.

“Hey Tim?”

“Yeah?”

Resting her head on the rest, she turned her neck around, playfully smiling.  “When this is all done, you promise that you’ll take me out on a proper date?”

Tim’s mouth dropped open in a moment of shock, but he quickly composed himself.  “Yes!  Yes.  Easiest decision of my life… yes.”  He laughed, nearly whooping and punching the wheel in jubilation.

“Where’d you like to go? Dinner?  We could do that.”  She gently prodded.

“Bit fancy?”  He said, peering into the cameras that showed the sides and rear of the vehicle.  “I mean, do you want to get all dressed up?”

“No, no, not to start, but I know this really nice diner.  The lady who runs it smokes like twenty packs a day, but they do really good burgers.”

“That sounds good.  I can pick you up, drop you off, and if you feel up to it, we can just walk about, not worry about being jumped…”

“A proper date.”  She smiled sweetly.  “Listen, I’d give you my phone number but I think it - along with my house keys and purse - are chilling at the bottom of Gotham river right now.”

“Oh.  Well I can pay for dinner, if that takes a weight of your mind.  A gentleman always pays on the first date… or something like that.”

Shifting to reassert a more comfortable position, Stephanie could only roll her eyes.  “Wow.”

“Wow what?”  Tim glanced sideways at her.  She paused, realising he was being genuine, because that was all Tim seemed to be capable of being.

“You’re serious?”  She asked, clutching her seat belt and leaning towards him.  She ignored a sharp stab of pain that tugged on her stitches the doctor had done on her.

“Yes?”

At his stupefied tone, Stephanie huffed and muttered, “Of course you are.  God, you are something else.”

She raked her eyes up and down at him, totally head over heels, and Tim blushed at her flirtatious tone and gaze.  It was silent, but only for a moment before Stephanie began her prodding once more.

“So, you on Facebook?  Or Twitter?  Or whatever you bats and birds and oracles use?  You don’t strike me as an Instagram fan.”

“Ha.  No, not Instagram.  The others sure, I’m not completely cut off from normal teenage things.”

“Well, what else do you like to do with your time?”

Tim tutted, flexing his fingers on the wheel.  “This is getting into first date conversation territory.”

“Oh, come on!  Tell me.”  She urged, tapping his shoulder.

“Uhhh okay.  I… like music?  I mean, I play the guitar.  Not well, but… well.”

“I used to play the piano.”  She interjected gently.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Maybe we can play together.  See how much I’ve forgotten and see how well you actually play.”

“Heh.  That sounds perfect.”

“What else?”

“Oh.  Um.”  He sounded so reluctant to talk about himself, but Stephanie knew it wasn’t from a lack of anything to say.  Tim would have stories for days. Stories about his parents, stories about Batman, about Nightwing, about his training.  Stephanie wondered if it was just because he didn’t get the chance to talk about himself very often. 

“I skateboard!” The idea seemingly came to him abruptly, and he immediately seemed embarrassed the moment he uttered it.   “I know that’s a bit lame nowadays and at my age –”

“Who told you that?”

“Um… my dad.”

“Huh, well, he’s wrong so there’s that.”  She was flippant, tone brokering no argument.  She didn’t know Tim’s father, but what she’d heard, she was not impressed.  “It’s really cool, watching those guys in the park.  I can’t do that.  The balance you need…”

“I can teach you, when your stitches are out…”  He said, a smile on his face at imagining the two of them at the skate park in Robinson.

“You can try boy wonder, no promises though.”

The nickname made his chest flood with warmth.  “…Thanks Steph.”

“Well, you’re welcome.  If you want, I can teach you to sew in exchange.  There’s something not cool.”

“And who told you that?  You know when the apocalypse comes, you’ll be the one actually wearing functional clothes and making objects whilst I’ll just…lay down and freeze.”

She laughed sharply. “From what I’ve seen tonight Tim I don’t think you’ll go down easy when the zombies come for our brains.”

He shook his head and began to slow down.  The smile slid off his face, and she recognized it as him slipping into superhero mode.  She readjusted herself once more, bracing against the door and dashboard, not knowing where Tim was planning to plant the car. 

He leaned forward, peering through the screens.  Jolting the car sideways, he slowed right down, and slid down one alley, barely wide enough for the batmobile to open its doors.  He then dimmed the lights and cut the engine.  The car remained on however, dozens of little knobs and buttons lighting up their faces like an airplane cockpit.

Tim took a deep, albeit unsteady breath, and turned to Stephanie.

“Serious talk.”

“Yup.”

“If I’m not out in half an hour.  Call the police.  Tell them where you are, tell them to swamp the place.  Do not go after me, or your mother, or Batman.  With us falling off the bridge, they may think we popped it.  I don’t know.  I’ll get your mom out first.  When your mom is out, call the police.”

She nodded, but her concerned look did not fade.  “And what about Batman?  What if he’s really badly hurt?”

Tim swallowed uncomfortably, his throat dry, and turned back to the wheel.  He chewed his lip.  “I might have to leave you behind, depending on how bad he is, and get him back home.  You’ll be safe so long as you’re in the car.  If it gets really bad, and the car starts to get swamped before the police arrive. Oracle will drive you away.”

“Towards the police?”

“Towards the police, yeah.”

 A soft kiss on the cheek made him jump.

“Big brave superhero.”  Her gentle teasing made him relax.  Just a little.  He turned and kissed her on the lips, a wet kiss that made a loud smack when they separated.

“Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

Tim smiled.  “Oracle can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.  I’ve connected you to the car too, so we both can keep track of you.”

Tim nodded at the thought of an audio audience.  He gulped once more, then smacked a button which opened the roof of the car.  He climbed up, fired a grappling gun up to the roof, and shot away.  The car roof swiftly sealed once more, with a definite suction noise sealing out external air.

Stephanie sat alone in the silence and the low light, her stomach gurgling increasingly with dread.  This was going to be a long thirty—

“Right madam, I need you to move over to the driver’s seat.”

“Huh?”  She gripped the sides of her seat tight, as if she’d been caught doing something naughty.  Oracle did not seem totally amused.

“You wanted to help right?”

“Yes…?”

“Then you can help by getting Tim a map of the building.  The car has a sort of sonar.  It can create a 3D map depending on what it bounces off.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Hop over, come on.”

Stephanie did as she was bid, hissing in pain as she shuffled her bum over the other seat.  She swung her legs round, and fastened herself back in.  She grinned, and excitedly grabbed the steering. 

“Oh, wow.  I’m in the driver’s seat of the batmobile!”

“Yeah, yeah but you’re not driving anywhere.   Upper left, a row of four buttons, near the left window.  See them?”

Leaning forward, she nodded and sounded off with a half-hearted, “Yes?”

“Hit the one of the left, hold for three seconds.”

She did just that.  She felt a high-pitched ring go through her ears, and the car shuddered.

“Do it three more times.”

“Do you get the image wherever you are?” She asked as she pressed the button.

“I do.  Can see there’s fifteen bodies in there.  You two and Batman took out a few on your city travels.”

“Is Batman in there?”

“Can’t say for certain, it doesn’t give a clear enough picture.  It’ll help Tim know what way to enter, so thank you Stephanie.”

“You’re welcome.” She said, tone genuinely in its gratitude. 

Tim’s connection crackled on.

“Going in now.  See if she can get the EMP to go off.  It’ll cut off my communications, but the other tech should still work.  It’ll mess with their stuff real good.”

“Be careful Tim.”

“Promise.”

Stephanie leaned forward, as if she could somehow spot Tim and where he was in the building.  All she could see was a brick wall, and no windows or light. 

“Oracle?  How do I set off an EMP?”

“One sec…” An awkward pause, then Oracle picked up the line once more.  “By the gear stick, there’s a circle of smaller buttons with a big button in the middle?”

“Hit the big button?”

“No.  Do not hit the big button.”

“What’s the big button do?”

“Don’t touch it.”

“What can I touch?”

“Bottom right.  Hit once, no more than one second.  It’s pretty fierce and will knock out a block if you hold it too long.”

Gulping, she pressed it firmly.  The resulting noise from the car made her jump and squeak.  Her stitches complained brutally from her sudden movement, and she clutched at her side, trying to control her breathing.

“Did it work?”  She managed to ask.

“Tim’s no longer hearing me, so yes.  Well done, Stephanie.”

“…Welcome.”  This time her response was quieter.  Neither woman sounded too happy about the fact that Tim was well and truly alone. 

Stephanie attempted to make conversation with the voice above, to distract herself.

“You work for Batman?”

“Ahem. With Batman.”

“Oh.  That’s cool.  How…how did you enter…that…profession?”

“Long story.”

“I have time?”

“Uh-uh Stephanie.  Just… think of me as mission control.”  A pause, then a gentler, “Your wounds, they feel okay?”

“They hurt.  But that’s fine.  I’d rather feel the pain than not.  Something would really be wrong then, huh?”  She laughed shakily.

There was no response.

“Oracle?”

Gun fire sounded off then, and Stephanie gasped in fear. 

“Sit tight.”

There was no other noises loud enough to be heard in the car through the brick walls, so Stephanie listened as the sounds got louder and quieter, seemingly at random.  Sometimes it was obvious that multiple shots from multiple guns were being fired, other times it seemed like just the one. 

The moment the gunfire fell quiet, she panicked.

“I have to help.”

“How?  You’ve been told.  Sit tight.”

“Oh God.”  She fell forward, head smacking off the wheel.

The car lit up then, bright as it had when Tim had been driving.

“Stephanie turn the car off.”

“Sorry, sorry I—” She began frantically, foolishly, pressing assorted buttons.  An explosion rang out from the roof of the car with such force that the wall the car was pressed against caved in.  The fearsome blast led to two men on the other side being knocked out with the momentum of the bricks hitting them.  She couldn’t see Tim, but one man and one woman saw the batmobile and seemed to enter an absolute rage at the sight of it.  They turned from whatever they were shooting at (Tim?  Mom?) and began firing at the car.  Stephanie flinched at the sounds and the impact of the bullets on the windshield, but of course the material was tougher than any shotgun, and they bounced off with no damage to the screen.

One of them gave an over the top yell, as if he were in a war movie, but neither person moved.

Something distracted them all then.  Stephanie couldn’t see what was going on inside, but she could hear.  A horrid screech, one from a man, cut off quickly and sharply. 

“What was that?”  Stephanie asked, monotone but frightened.

“Uhhhhh…”

“Oracle, hey, what just happened?  Can you see?”

The two people watched as something (someone?) was flung across the room.  The lady’s mouth dropped open in disgust.  Stephanie blinked, and looked down at the wheel of the car.

“It…well.  Everything’s fine.”  Oracle sounded just like Tim did when they were in the stolen car, and Stephanie by this point had learned her lesson, and did not believe anything was fine for one moment.

The mob pair slowly returned their gaze to the car, as if deciding they had better chances against it than whatever was on the other side of the wall. 

They began to run at the batmobile, aiming to swamp it.  If they managed to get the door open, Stephanie wouldn’t be able to fight back, she was practically immobile.  Panic took over.

“Oh my God, what do I do?”

“Stephanie—”

“What do I do what do I do.”

“Steph—” The man began to incessantly smash his gun down on the windshield, trying to break in, whilst the woman moved the driver’s side, trying to bust the door.  They couldn’t see in, thanks to the shaded windows, but that didn’t stop their faces being uncomfortably close to Stephanie’s.  “It’s fine, there’s no way they can get in.”  Oracle was trying to be reassuring, but Stephanie remained unconvinced, and leaned back further into the driver’s seat.

With a thunderous crack, the man managed to severely damage the front screen, and Stephanie squealed like a six-year-old.  He was seemed a man possessed and laughed maniacally like he was a genuine supervillain.  Stephanie thought in brief flash of contempt that he was just kind of pathetic.

Dangerous though, and nearly cracking his way in.

“Oh, okay, okay, okay, okay, no worries.”  Oracle somehow did not seem to be exhibiting the right level of fear, if anything she seemed very blasé, thinking on the go.  "Hit that big centre button.”

“The one you told me not to—”

“Smack it!”

With her fist Stephanie slapped it harder than probably necessary, but she was running on adrenaline at that point and was just doing as she was told with extra gusto.  Both mobsters were thrown back with an aggressive crackle.  The landed on the ground, one further up the alley, one being thrown back into the warehouse.  They stayed on the ground.

“Oh wow.”

“Tasers.  They’ll be fine.  Maybe peed themselves a little.”  Oracle sounded entirely too pleased at the thought.

“…I threw up on myself earlier.”  Stephanie offered dumbly.  Oracle actually laughed.

“You’re not having a great night are you?”

“I’ve… had better.”

Stephanie reached out for the gear shift, and lowered her feet to the pedals.  There were two, hopefully one to go forward and one to brake.  She moved the gear shift up, and tentatively put her foot down, wanting to enter the warehouse.

"No, wait!"

The car shot forward through the hole in the wall uncontrollably, like it was her first-time driving a stick shift 1990s Toyota. Bad enough and embarrassing enough, if not for the fact that her mother had come running out towards the hole in the wall the moment Stephanie jerked forward.  Crystal bounced off the car with a loud humph and fell to the floor.  Stephanie stared in abject horror as her mother wheezed and rolled around on the ground.  She was not hurt too badly, just in shock at being smacked by the batmobile more than anything, but that didn’t stop Stephanie from crying out.

“Oh God.  I just ran over my mom!”

“…Wow you are having a terrible night.”

#dc #timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #my fic tag #update!