#the one who sat there and did nothing when i almost drowned as a kid

[anadiasmount]

promise - trent alexander arnold x reader.

quick sum: based on these two requests! best friends should always remain best friends. what happens when one has enough of the back and forth and begins to move on?

wc: 3k | masterlist | trent's masterlist

psa 🗣️: hi !! second trent fic as highly requested!! feel very proud of this one so i hope you enjoy!! did use promise by romeo santos ft usher bc i felt like it fit the plot 🤭🤍

trent watched from across the room, sipping on his whiskey observing the way you laugh and smiled at the stranger he didn’t know. he cleared his throat and scratched the his nose in annoyance as he watched you share a kiss, resting your forehead on his.

he felt a pan of jealousy override him, the feeling in his chest felt harsh and fire like seeing you with another man. everyone had their eyes on you, including the girl who sat in front of trent. you worse a sexy red dress, calling attention even from him.

how was it even possible for the two of you to be at the same place, at the same time? was it fate?

"you seem distracted. are you okay?" asked the woman in front of trent, he looked over at her giving her a fake smile, and nodded. "i'm okay, are you enjoying the food?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were.

he listened to what she said but his eyes kept going back to you and him. trent hated him, even without knowing him, he was angry because he got to do all the stuff that trent wished to do. he hid the bubble of frustration and anger, drowning the urge to go over and question you.

he knew it was partially his fault for letting you go, and that disappointed him even more. he pushed you away, lacked communication, and had commitment issues, when he promised so much. you deserved better and that was trent's only thought about when you were together.

you needed a man who'd be with you always and gave you love and support. trent was the opposite, always away for games, training, shoots, and interviews, he felt like he barely saw you towards the end of the day. trent felt like the relationship was one-sided to him, and he felt it was about him when with you.

even though there was no label, the feelings were clear. he loved you, and you loved him. he knew he loved you the first time he laid eyes on you, watching how you nervously struggled to say words but overall how dedicated, strong, and loving you were. you were a speaker and listener, which he admired.

you worked with kids a lot, earning your degree in education and speech development for kids. you were more than ready to settle down, but the hesitance within trent made him fear if he was truly "ready for more".

trent remembers the good and hard days, when you cuddled into his embrace and stroked his skin softly, pressing kisses all over his face, making dinner and cookies, watching re-runs of gossip girl, when trent felt most safe when he held you as you slept or said nothing and just stared into each other's eyes.

the bad days especially after a tough match, or he just didn't know how to handle things. where he didn't even spare a glance or word at you, leaving you hurt and confused. ignoring your calls or messages. shrugging your touches and words of comfort. not only did it sting you but also him.

trent quickly paid for dinner, grabbed the girls hand, and approached your table, where you sat with your legs crossed and sipped on your wine. you took a double take when you saw the familiar body approach you, feeling your skin heat up with nerves as you saw his dismounted look. 

you sat up straighter, giving fabian a nervous smile before speaking up. "trent, hi," you say very monotonely, glancing at the girl who matched almost similar to trent with a grey dress. "what are you doing, y/n?" he taunted, ticking his head to the side referring to fabian. you shook your head pleading to not start a scene. 

"fabian meet trent," you introduced stuttering standing up and him following your movements. the girl gave you a nasty look, wrapping her hand around trent's bicep in a protective manner, making your heart twinge with pain. "he's my-" you start.

"boyfriend. i'm her boyfriend." fabian cuts you off, coping trent's facial features in amusement, maybe even bewilderment. 

"uh..." you swift your head quickly, stunned and surprised by his words. you weren't anyone's girlfriend, so it confused you why he'd say that to trent. trent's brows perked up offering an enraged smile and licked his lips. "boyfriend huh? how come i didn't know this y/n?" trent asked, releasing his arm from her and crossing them across his chest. 

"trent, please not right now..." you begged, wishing you could've ignored him and pretended to be strangers again. trent easily got jealous, and you noticed it right away when you saw the irritation behind his brown eyes, jaw clenched and muscles tense. "just asking a question, y/n," trent shrugged, pursing his lips upside down nonchalantly. 

"outside, now," you said dragging him out before trent could continue his games any longer, and muttering a quick 'excuse me' to fabian who sat down. you felt deceived and overall embarrassed at his actions. who was he to demand questions when he threw all of it away? get jealous and angry when he wasn't even yours? 

"what do you think you're doing?" 

"i don't get it. you say we're done, but here you are moved on y/n?" trent spits out. "is that why initiated us to end? because you felt the need to be away and search for other options?" he continued stepping closer to you. you scoffed and bursted out laughing. 

"oh please! you can't be serious when you gave me the reason all along! you acted like a lost puppy and treated me like i was nothing. i tried, gave you my all, tried to support and be there for you and when i begged you for an ounce of attention you pulled away trent! im done with you, and us," you state feeling the knot in your throat build up as you spoke. 

you try to walk away but he wraps his hand around your elbow pulling you to him. "i'm not done." you try to push him away but he refuses, bringing his hand to the back of your head and hugging your waist, your struggles coming to an end when you smell the familiar cologne and sense of home in his embrace. “i’m done with playing games y/n… i swear this time.” 

“this time? or until you realize you're still afraid of commitment? i need a man trent, not a boy who will leave me when he pleases or gets scared. you proved to me who you were, and i don't want to tangle myself into that mess again…” you whisper, tears running down your cheeks as trent places small kisses on your head and below your ear. 

the words let out your mouth hurt trent, feeling his insides turn and anger disappear. all he wanted to do know was never let you go, beg onto his knees if that was what it took to plead and get you back. he’d do anything. 

your body felt tense and cold, wanting to be miles away from him, because you knew with trent you faced the reality of always wanting to come back. it wasn’t healthy, you gave him your all for him to push you away. “let go t…” 

“i can’t not now, or ever. please i’ll do anything…” 

“it’s too late, i need to move on from you or else i’m just bound to end up in the same cycle of getting hurt everytime i’m with you. It’s not fair… also what are you proving to me right now, hmm? that girl inside? who else is gonna come between us now? i can’t trust myself around you…” you let out, gripping his biceps and feeling the cool air between the space of both you as you pulled back. 

you sniffled and wiped your tears away, hands smoothing the dress and tucking you hair into place as the wind had blew. trent itched to pull you closer but he saw the mess he created in front of him. why every time he pulled back was because of this, afraid of hurting you. you were right, maybe it was too late. “i’m sorry trent, but i deserve to be happy after i moved heaven and hell with you…” 

“i want to be selfish y/n… it's taking everything inside me to drag you away and prove to you i have changed… that i won't walk away from you or us… i’ll say it now and repeat as long as it will take for you to be with me. i love you… i love so fucking much y/n,” he felt relief after holding in the words that tortured him every day since he left you. 

he loved you endlessly. the way your eyes shimmered when you laughed or smiled. held his hand and drew shapes to get rid of the nerves. he loved the charisma and energy you carried to be a new and stronger person everyday. he loved you because at the end of the day, you were his best friend and understood him like no one else did.

you scoffed out a laugh in disbelief, yet felt the hope and rushed feelings return when you locked eyes with him. “love? you don’t what that is. the love you claim to have left when i walked away,” you say with no remore, walking back into the restuarant before trent stops you again.

"y/n please. i'm being serious, just hear me out."

"so am i trent. when i say i'm done, i'm done. this isn't going to help, if you say you're a changed man then prove that to me. but right now you're the same trent i met and left me alone constantly," you felt your heart dragged out and painted along the sidewalk.

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

you bit your lip in worry and desperation as you saw another bouquet of flowers and a small card on your desk, knowing exactly who they belonged to. you sighed and opened the card, reading it word for word before tucking into your desk drawer along with the others.

"red tulips symbolizes love and lust. i love you forever y/n." - trent

he'd sent a boquest of flowers each friday, everytime expalining their meaning and cofessing his love for you over and over again. not only that but he'd send small gifts to your flat, going from food, books, jewelry, or small frames that spoke to you. you had filled your rooms with all of them, not wanting to throw them away.

you shouldn't have kept the gifts, discarding them the chance you received them. but something inside always felt an attachment to him. unable to look away or smile when you saw a small box filled with goodies. it wasn't right especially when fabian was still in the picture.

"another bouquet?" asks your coworker, looking at them from your doorway. "erm yeah," you stutter, "seems like he wants to prove a point y/n... cause it's not only flowers he's sending also small gifts," she points out. "real question is, who are you going to pick at the end of the day..."

"i don't know," you say sitting on the chair leaning back and feeling frustration building in your head. you take a sip of water, trying to ooze the nerves and listen to your coworker. "go with the one that at the end of the day will cherish and honor you forever. the one who'd do anything and everything to be aside with you. because that's a good man."

you thought about what she said all day. her words taunting and making you shiver every time you thought of it. it followed you all the way home to your flat where you looked around and saw all of trent's gifts. you chuckle disgruntled, and remove your coat, getting ready for your date with fabian.

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

"this isn't working for me y/n," fabian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and clearing his throat. "i'm getting the sense either you're not ready or you're still stuck on someone from the past... and i need to know because i can't wait any longer," fabian laid the truth on the table.

words struggled to come out of your mouth, feeling defeated and overall disappointed. but fabian was right about something, struggling to move on from trent. he was all you thought about since that night at the restaurant. his pained look with tearful eyes. the way he held you along his chest begging you.

"is there someone in the past you haven't moved on from?" he asked carefully, leaning forward to where you felt your heart pump out your chest. how could you answer that without hurting him? he deserved better and here you were ruining that for him, after all along he treated you like a queen.

"fabian," you croaked giving him a small smile. that alone said enough for him, shaking his head while he tried to get rid of the wave of sadness. "you changed after that night. i don't know what he said to change your mind but if that's how you want to live your life, go for it. i'm not stopping you."

"you don't understand-"

"i don't understand? please let's be civil now y/n. you told me all this shit about him and here you are doing the same to me? you told me i made you happy, that you liked where we were headed. suddenly you're back to your old self who couldn't get over him," fabian expressed angrily and obviously hurt.

your stomach turned, reaching your hand out just for him to pull away. it felt unbearable, the misery and pain of once again losing someone in your life. the bile in your veins filled with venom, how many more would it take till you finally had your happy ever after?

"i thought you were it for me, but now i want nothing to do with you."

fabian got up from the table leaving with stained tears and embarrassment, people looking over and seeing you. you felt like you deserved it, after all you were the reason he was leaving you. with shaky hands and a heavy heart filled with sorrow, you paid and left to the only place you could think of.

"i hate you," you yelled once trent revealed the door. "i hate you so much trent," you cried out gasping for air throwing your clutch onto his sofa and facing him. "when there's finally something good in my life you go and ruin it!"

"y/n breathe... i don't understand-"

"i can't stop thinking of you or what you've said. and for that reason, i lost a man who truly deserved my time and love. i can't have or think of anyone because you're always in my head trent. i just need sanity and peace," you point to your heart, vision blurry as you feel him hold your arms.

"i feel trapped trent, under these stupid feelings i have for you. all of your flowers and gifts, messages and voicemails you leave? it drives me insane," you said sniffling as sinking further into his embrace once again. "fabian is done with me, all because i turned out to be the person who hurt me the most..."

"i didn't deserve to go through all of that. the way you treated me or never communicated what you felt? wishing an longing for your love and affection when i most needed it. even after supporting you through your tough times, promising to be with you forever? i hate it all..."

you struggle out a painful laugh, "i mean look where i am now, back into the place where all this mess started..."

trent had to hide the excitement and contentment he felt upon hearing you and fabian were done. all that mattered now was you were finally here with him, after proving to you, he was in it for all. if proving every day how much he loved and missed you took to get you back, he'd do it forever.

"no you're back home where you belong," trent corrected you, grabbing your face and frowning at your state. you looked completely hopeless and rained with energy, eyes low, and puffy lips from crying. "you're back with me. i meant what i said y/n, i'm proving to you that i want to be here for you..."

"i wake up every day hoping you text me or leave me those silly note drawings. i love you so much it hurts to see you like this because of me. i was an asshole to you then but i promise y/n, i will give you my all if that's what it takes to get to spend the rest of my life with you."

"to hear about how the kids were in your classes and what they did. to eat those amazing cinnamon cookies, to hear your laugh, to see your eyes widen when they bore into mine when we cuddle in the same bed. to be able to wake up next to you..."

"it hurts me too y/n. to see you don't love or even acknowledge what i'll do for you..." trent clamors out, still holding your face as his thumb brushes away the new fresh of tear the slid down your cheek. "i love you so much, im afraid it's too late for us and tomorrow you'll be gone."

a moment of silence passes between the two of you, hearing your ragged breaths and sniffles as you both take in the situation and what was occurring. heart beating out of each other's chest, and pulse-raising a mile high.

"it's not late..." you say with no reluctance, despite what happened trent did prove himself how much loves you. fabian couldn't ever see or read that from you, having to either ignore the signs or ask. trent knew you better than anyone else, and he knew right there and then, that hope still laid on the table. "say it... i need to hear you say it."

"its not late because i love you too trent... i think i always have and always will... i couldn't stand the fact you were with someone who wasn't me. so much needs to be changed and heard trent. i refuse for you to say all this and then go back to square one," you clarify, a sense of warmth towering over you as he smiled down at you.

"just promise me one thing hmm? that you won't give up so easily or walk away like i did. we will talk it out and solve it because i can't go through another span where you're not next to me here," trent says, tracing your lips with his thumb. "i promise trent..." you swore desperately nodding at his words.

trent closes the space, lips molding with yours as he takes a breath finally being able to kiss you. he wastes no time and pushes his tongue through your lips able to taste your sweet fondness. hands holding you tight as you completely let yourself be unrestrained and into the way he kissed you.

"i promise you y/n, this isn't bullshit. what we have is special, and i'll make sure you see that..."

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #football fanfic #football x you #football x reader #footballer #football imagine #football one shot

[olichat-reads]

Mrow | Part One

Bakugou x roomate!reader

Summary: you've gotten yourself into a quirk accident & were now..?? a cat??

A/n: if there's one thing i like about the mha universe is that the existence of quirks make up so many plot possibilities to play with. i had a lot of fun writing this & i hope you enjoy reading too!

🌟

You were a cat.

Your day most certainly could not get any weirder than this.

You were chasing after a petty thief down the alleyway when it happened. You almost felt bad for going after what could be the most skittish crime offender you've ever encountered.

Then she struck you with her quirk.

The force of it knocked you to the ground & your sight went blurry. You vaguely heard her apologized profusely, swearing it was an accident & stammering that you'll be able to figure out how to undo it on your own, leaving you to slowly black out.

When you came to, you found yourself absolutely drowning in a mass of clothes that you soon realized was your hero outfit. Horrified at the discovery, you looked down at your naked body only to find out you weren't exactly naked.

You were covered in fur.

Cursing out in confusion, you heard your own voice rang through the alleyway. But it didn't sound like your voice & what came out was most definitely not coherent words.

Panicked you scrambled to get out of the alley, almost plopping face first into what seemed to be a ridiculously huge puddle, barely catching yourself as you fell on your furry butt. Peering into the muddy water, you felt your heart sank at the sight of your own reflection.

You were a cat.

🌟

You've sat at your front door for approximately 15 minutes, glaring at the wood, willing it open with your mind.

You decided quickly that heading to your agency will do you no good, already concluding you aren't getting a productive two-way conversation with anyone while you were in this form. Trying to alert other pro heroes on your way did not work out, unless them cooing & making baby voices at you counted.

The familiar sound of heavy boots approaching your door made you perk up. Your roomate was home.

You padded aside to make way for your roomate to open the door, you little body slumping in relief. You didn't notice Bakugou skeptically raising an eyebrow at your presence but saying nothing otherwise.

The click of the door unlocking had you sighing inwardly. Ugh. Thank fuck. You thought as you padded in tiredly. Curling up in bed after the day you had the only thing on your mind.

You barely made it two steps in before your feet were no longer on the ground, making you squeal in surprise.

"Oi."

You heard your own angry mewls as Bakugou grabbed you by the scruff, holding you up to his face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are waltzing in like you own this place?"

You wanted to scream. You were too tired for this shit right now.

Oh my god. Bakugou! I do own this place. Its me! Y/n!

You tried explaining to no avail as you thrashed in his hold. Bakugou muttered something about you being 'a loud little fuck too' & started heading for the front door.

This made you bristle in irritation even more.

There was absolutely no way you were turned into a cat & getting kicked out of your own apartment on the same day. Not fucking happening.

The moment Bakugou dropped you off out the front door, you launched yourself onto his pant leg before he could close the door in your face, clinging on to dear life as the blonde yelped in surprise at feeling your little claws dig into the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Are you fucking kidding me??" He yelled, swinging he's leg around, jostling you with the movement, trying to get you off of him.

No! Thats my line, you bastard! Don't fucking kid with me!

You yelled profanities at him. All of which, to your dismay, came out as high pitched wails while Bakugou stumbled around as he tried to pry you off his leg while you held on with all your might. In his struggle, he bumped into the front door, cracking it open just a smidge. Seeing this opening you leaped off of him & made a mad dash inside, hearing your angry roomate shout after you. You dove for the living room sofa, barely wiggling your way through the narrow space underneath, only just escaping the angry blonde's grasp.

You heard Bakugou yelling at you to get out, to which you yelled right back at him- non-threatening little mewls be damned. You weren't standing for this bullshit.

Fuck.

There was no way of communicating with him like this. Where the fuck was a convinient scrabble board game when you needed one.

🌟

"Oi. Come out. You must be hungry. I got you food."

No! You'll try to throw me out again! Out of my own home may I add!

You heard Bakugou snicker at your yowls from under the sofa, making your tail puff up in annoyance.

"Calm down, brat. I won't throw you out. Promise. Just food."

You contemplated your options for a moment before relenting to his offer. Bakugou chuckled at the sight of you poking your head out of your hiding place, looking up at him with doubts written all over your furry face.

You watched him place two saucers by the table, one of steamed fish, the other filled with clean water before moving on to set his own meal & take a seat at the table. Trotting over nervously, you looked up at him one last time, just in case he was bluffing, only to have him roll his eyes at you. "Hurry up. My foods getting cold."

You tilt your head at that.

His food? Was he waiting for you to eat together?

You wanted to ask but your tummy growling & confirmation that you could hold Bakugou to his word had you making your way to your dishes. Plus your questions would only come out as mewls & squeals anyway so.

Sitting on your haunches you meowed out a 'thanks for the food' before digging in, making the blonde laugh.

"At least you have some manners for a feral little thing."

🌟

You didn't have time to worry about getting kicked out after dinner, having seemingly become the least of Bakugou's problems after a phonecall left him agitated & fidgety.

You watched Bakugou pace the living room back & forth, whilst holding his phone up to his ear, seemingly getting more & more frustrated by the minute as he grumbled under his breath ever time the call went to voicemail.

"Mrow?"

Bakugou barely acknowledged your presence with a glance before he's dialing the number again.

"She's not fucking answering."

Who?

"The other dumbass that lives here. She should've been home ages ago. Its getting dark."

Oh. Oh, he's worried about you.

Cursing under his breath at another voicemail, Bakugou muttered something about calling your agency again while you watched him barely contain his distress as he learns no one has seen you since your patrol.

"This fucking dumbass. Where the hell are you??" Bakugou growled while tugging on the boots of his hero outfit, the worry underlying his voice made your gut churn with guilt.

You scurried over to where he sat at the door, swiftly lacing up his boots. He paused when you meowed, peaking around his side.

Keeping your eyes on his, you tested the waters by perching up on his thigh, front paws on his tummy with those red eyes watching your every move. When Bakugou didn't push you off, you continued wiggling your way up his chest, his hand instinctively coming under your legs to support you.

Face to face with him, you see the distress on his face, the expression making your heart heavy. Pushing your little body on your hind legs, you bring a paw up to the wrinkles between his brows.

I'm right here, Bakugou. You mewled quietly.

The blonde huffed out a quiet laugh at that. "Whats with you? You're way too perceptive for a regular fluffball." You perk up at his words. Maybe he'd finally notice!

Thats 'cause I'm not a cat! Its me! Y/n!

To your dismay, he only chuckled at your frantic meows. "Alright, alright. I have to go now," he rumbled out with an amused grin overlaying his worry. He stood up slowly, picking you up in his large hands to set you on the ground. "M'bringing that idiot home so I can introduce ya. I'd bet she's gonna love ya."

You could only watch as Bakugou stepped out into the night to search for you, knowing he wouldn't find you out there tonight.

Part Two

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #oliwrites #bakugou katuski x reader #mrow

[starspyder]

𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘺 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘕𝘦𝘢𝘵 // 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

Summary: Dean Winchester is a hardened man. While he would love to, he can’t maintain a proper relationship due to his line of work. With how much of a sweetheart you are, Dean finds it almost impossible to keep you at an arm’s distance.

Warnings: implied age gap but it's not fully mentioned (reader is 27, Dean is 40 in this if ur curious), moderate angst, AQUAPHOBIA WARNING (almost-drowning), witches, canon-typical violence, Dean saves you hehe, fluff, lowkey grumpy x sunshine, Dean is in denial and thinks you deserve better than him, self-hatred, guilt on Dean’s part, you’re both into each other but he’s so scared of hurting you, Southern!Reader bc i said so hehehe, Dean is YEARNING

Gif from Pinterest

Word Count: 1462

Dean would never consider himself soft. Sure, he was good with kids, but only because he basically had to raise Sam by himself. Those experiences in his own childhood slipped from his hands like sand in an hourglass, and that little ball of softness went right with it. 

Until one case in Louisiana, when it practically fell right into his arms. 

He and Sam had been there tracking a coven of witches in New Orleans, like something straight out of American Horror Story. Based on the news reports, the victims were all friends or family of one of the suspected witches– likely her initiation into the group, to prove she was worthy. A young girl had gotten caught in the crossfire, simply because she was roommates with one of them, and accidentally led the Winchesters right to the coven. 

He’d seen you right before they began the real hunt, having gone back to your house for a final round of questioning. Truthfully, he’d gone by to flirt his way into checking the house for any hex bags, but your witchy roommate was good about keeping it out of her living space. When he didn’t find anything, he couldn’t seem to deny your offer for a cup of coffee, while you did your best to inquire about the case. 

“Why do you think Rebecca is involved?” You asked, somewhat nervously. 

You sat across from Dean as he sat on the couch, cross-legged in a papasan chair, one hand tapping your thigh nervously and the other holding your floral patterned mug. 

“We’re just trying to rule her out as a suspect, Ma’am. As soon as we do that, the sooner we can get to figuring out what’s been happening around here.” He had reassured you. “Are you sure you haven’t been noticing any irregularities in her routine?” 

“We have each other on some tracking app, just to be safe, y’know? She tells me that she leaves her job at 7:30 every Thursday, which is a fifteen minute drive from here. Rebecca would always tell me when she should be home, just in case anything happened,” You sighed. 

Dean’s eyebrows raised as he waited patiently for you to continue. 

“About three months ago, she just kinda’ stopped doin’ it. She’s been going out a lot more than normal, with a big group of girls– met ‘em at work, she said.” “Do you know where they’ve been going?” 

“Mostly just to clubs around town. I checked one day because she hadn’t been home all night and I was worried. Her last location was some place near Lake Pontchartrain, a few miles deep into the woods. I tried finding it online, but nothing turned up. Rebecca hates being outside, she hates camping and all that stuff, so there’s no reason for her to be there.” 

“Do you happen to have an exact location?” 

Your head shook. “It’s a big area, not a lot of cell towers.” 

Dean leaned forward and took your hand, which had still been tapping against your leg. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me, Sweetheart.” The next night, a Thursday, Sam and Dean had tracked the coven down to some ritual spot in the middle of the forest. It didn’t take them long, considering that half a mile out, they could hear terrified cries for help. 

They found you, tied to a tree and begging for your life as the witches teased and taunted you– even the girl who you told them you considered your best friend. 

“You know, Y/N, you’re just too sweet sometimes. You even let an entire coven slip under your nose, because you couldn’t think for a second that your best friend would ever hurt you.” Rebecca sneered, kneeling in front of you and tracing the swell of your cheek with a knife.

“Please, Becca, don't hurt me, I won’t tell anyone!” You cried, tugging against the ropes that cut into your wrists. 

Dean was ready to jump out and kill her right then, but Sam’s arm across his chest kept him at bay. For now. “Don’t hurt me! Please, spare me. Killing you is the key to getting everything I’ve ever wanted! You’re the one who kept telling me to do what I wanted for once!” Dean watched as the large bonfire cast an orange glow over your terrified features, and his chest ached that he couldn’t quell that fear. It made him think back to Lisa, how much he cared for her. Only after a week, wasDean absolutely enamored with you. 

It didn’t take long for the brothers to swing into action, killing the witches with surprising ease. They were plenty in number, but their skill couldn’t rival the brothers’ experience. 

As Sam cut your ropes, Dean was chasing after Rebecca as she chanted out a string of Latin. By the time he killed her, the damage had been done and you were writhing on the forest floor, water coming out of your mouth like there was a well in your lungs. 

You collapsed into Dean’s arms, grasping at your throat as your eyes watered, chest heaving through the pain. 

“Find the fucking bag!” Dean yelled, maneuvering you on your knees, face pointed at the ground as you drowned in open air. Sam dropped to the ground, fumbling through piles of leaves and dirt to find the offending item. In the scramble, the hex bag was kicked near the fire, causing Dean to yank his gun out and shoot it, breaking the spell. 

You gasped for breath like a fish out of water as you coughed up the last of the water wheezing and panicking from the fear. “It's okay, you’re safe.” Dean comforted, holding you to his chest as your body was wracked with sobs.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart.” 

When they were leaving town, Dean made one last stop to visit you in the hospital where you were recovering. 

“How are you feelin’, Sweetheart?” He asked, sitting next to your hospital bed. The doctors had decided to keep you for observation for a few days, citing potential damage to your lungs. 

“Like hell,” You said with a grin. “Y’all headin’ off?” 

Dean nodded. “Gotta head back home. Do you have anywhere you’re planning on going once you’re out of this dump?” 

“Not really. I don’t have any family I’m close to, so nobody to couch-surf with. I’m definitely leavin’, though. ‘M not quite sure where I’ll end up.” 

He could hear the tinge of sadness in your voice. He knew what it was like to not have a family, a place to call home. He knew it all too well. 

“Come with us.” 

The rest was history. 

Dean couldn’t help but think back to that day often. How lucky he was to have saved at least one life that day. Your life. 

He often felt dirty. You were a bright young girl, who could’ve had a great future, had you not been caught up in the mess of their lives. Not once did you ever complain, going with the flow and learning what you could to help them. You were so selfless, almost to a fault; you put up with his temper, his yelling, and when he was feeling particularly annoying. You helped clean his wounds when he was hurt, and when he was once sick, you made him tomato and rice soup, that tasted just like what Mary would make when he still held his innocence. 

Dean took his whiskey neat, while you stuck to those same girly cocktails that Sam swore he didn't like.

You were too good to be tarnished by the likes of Dean Winchester. 

Dean would always be an eternally bitter man who was constantly angry at something. He rose early due to incessant nightmares, drinking black coffee at three in the morning to stave off his near constant exhaustion. When those nightmares were about you, as they often were, nowadays, he would poke his head in your bedroom just a few doors down, his heart rate calming at how soft you looked, wrapped up in your blankets and a small light on your desk casting a warm light around the room. 

Your skin would always glow under the light, illuminating your features and the curve of your nose, how your hair fell into your face and how you would let out a wistful sigh every so often. 

You were such a stark contrast to the man who stood in your doorway almost every night. If Dean was marble, you were a flower that could be crushed under it. He was the knife, you were the sacrificial lamb. No matter what universe, Dean would ultimately be your demise, just like everyone else in his life. 

As he would gently close the door, he would take one last look at you and whisper one sentence. 

“You’re too sweet for me.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #starspyderfics #supernatural #supernatural x reader

[slashers-and-rats]

Can you write where Jason Voorhees noticed a female S/O over by the dock with a rose in her hand before throws it in the water? She was talking to the spirit of the young Jason Voorhees who got bullied and drowned by the kids at the camp.

She would say like "I'm so sorry for what you've put yourself into... I too been bullied by a bunch of kids, because I'm so different from the others" Jason would be surprised by what she said, especially when she looks normal compared to him.

Thank you sug'

rat chat: I’m a little rusty from being sick, so I’m sorry if this isn’t the best, but i hope i did this idea justice!

jason vorhees x fem!reader | sfw

the night had been near silent. the forest seemed to be asleep, resting along with the rest of the town, only making noise when the trees shifted and readjusted their positions in the wind. they seemed restless in their sleep. jason could relate to the feeling.

he sat near the lake shore, hidden behind some thick trees and bushes. he was quiet, contemplative, as he stared out into the water. the moon was hidden behind clouds, so there was no shimmer or light dancing across the lake like usual. it was nothing but inky black.

jason found an odd sense of peace when he sat there. this campground held bad blood beneath its soil, and his own roots intermingled with the ones of the trees. sometimes he felt stuck, as though all roads lead back to this place, but other times he felt like he was the one choosing the paths. either way, whenever he sat on the bank and watched the still waters he once thought to be his grave, he felt a sense of… well, he didn’t know. maybe it was hope? he had gotten out of that place once before, after all he was sitting safe on the shore now. it made him feel as though he could escape anything. but, he also felt a sense of melancholy. a damp, sore feeling crept into his bones as he remembered his childhood, and the evil he had to experience.

it was evil what they did to him, but he wondered sometimes if he had turned into what he hated.

maybe.

jason’s thoughts swirled in cluttered clouds around his head. he almost missed the woman that had emerged from the main campground, and had stepped up to the edge of the dock. but, the old creaking boards gave her away, and he looked up through the dark to see her silhouette.

shadows obstructed any details he might’ve been able to see. she held a lantern, but she held it out in front of her, making the glow barely reach her face. with this little light, though, he could at least see the bundle of flowers she was holding. he couldn’t quite tell the type, but they seemed to glow in contrast to the suffocating night around them.

jason shuffled back, just enough that he was confident he was out of view, and watched the woman closely. no one had come to these grounds in a long time, especially after all the scandals and stories (some caused by his own mischief). people especially didn’t visit at night. stories of people going missing, and ending up being found mangled and torn apart were abundant. jason took pride in this, as he was happy to have his resting place to himself and not to those vile people that poisoned whatever they touched. to him, he had saved something sacred to himself, and that was worth a little bloodshed.

for a moment, he just stared, beginning to weigh his options. he could just leave. he knew these woods better than anyone, he could make a brisk escape into the brush without this stranger noticing he was ever there. he could kill her? no, she didn’t seem like anyone bad. just some normal lady with flowers, that wasn’t a crime in jason’s head. maybe he’d scare her away? her presence made him restless.

jason was surprised when he heard a deep breathe come from her. it pulled him from his thinking, and he focused his attention back on her.

“so, i just… this is silly… maybe…” she rambled, taking a step back as if she was going to leave, before shaking her head and planting herself back at the edge of the dock. “no, no, this isn’t silly.” she shook her head, cleared her throat, and then began again. “my name is [y/n]. you probably don’t really care about that… um, i know your name, though. it’s jason. jason vorhees.”

jason’s eyes widened. he scrambled onto his knees, peeking out further past the bushes so that he could see this woman. he had never seen her a day in his life, and yet she knew his name.

“i just moved here recently. i was asking around town, and everyone told me about this place. kinda sent me down a rabbit hole. went to the library and found old newspapers, talked to the old camp counsellors, stuff like that, y’know? this really got to me.” he could hear the sadness dripping off her voice. it made him feel… he didn’t know yet again. whatever it was, it pushed on his heart, and made him feel choked. “i know what it’s like. i mean, i don’t know what it’s like to drown, but i know what it’s like to be attacked for being different. it’s… i can’t ever put into words how sorry i am. while i may not have done anything, and wasn’t even there, i just…” she trailed off, whispering something quiet.

jason nearly fell trying to hear what she had said, but to his discontent he couldn’t catch anything. he did see, though, a tear rolling down her face. he felt a stabbing feeling when he saw it. there was something about her, about her words; he felt seen, and yet she didn’t even know he was actually there.

“anyways, I’m rambling. it happens a lot, I’m being silly. um, i brought these flowers for you. from what i’ve heard, people really avoided this place once you were gone, and i don’t think that’s very fair. you deserve to be seen, jason. i see you. i remember you.” with these words, she knelt down and gently placed the flowers in the water, pushing them out towards the centre of the lake. for a moment, she watched them float away, before standing back up and sighing. “i’ll be back again. I’m sure you need company. i have to go now, though, i have work tomorrow.”

jason watched as she waved quietly to the water, taking a few steps back, before turning fully and walking back towards the cabins. for a moment he just stared, devoid of all thought.

a moment passed. her words lingered in his brain like a heavy fog. he tried to shake them away, but he couldn’t. they seemed to cling to his mind. he sat there for a long time, just staring at where she had stood.

he was jarred from his thoughts when the flowers she had sent into the water had managed to change its course, a breeze of wind sending it not to its destination, but to where jason sat on the bank. it washed up in front of him, and he clambered to his feet to grab the bouquet.

he cradled it to his chest. the petals felt soft in his hands, and he found a certain comfort in it. he looked down, examining the cluster.

pink carnations.

#jason vorhees x reader #jason vorhees #slashers #slasher x reader #ask

[justjasminne]

frank castle x therapist!reader please babygirl 🖤

Frank castle x therapist!reader

Warnings: smut, mdni, cream pie. Not proofread.

It's been about 2 months that you've been seeing one of your clients. He's lost his wife and kid and you've been helping him move on and find peace.

He was due for an appointment any minute before you heard a car pull into your office drive way. You opened the door and he had a seat on the couch. You sat on a chair infront of him with nothing but a coffee table with some books and decorations in between you.

"How have things been, Frank?" You asked clicking your pen ready to write. "All good, just work, sleep, repeat." He said. Sitting back. "Have you met anyone that's made an impact on your life since the first time I've seen you?" You ask standing up and walking over to your desk. "Yeah, you." He said, his eyes following your every move. "Yeah? I'm glad" you smiled. "Here's a journal for you, Frank," you said pulling a small book out of your drawer. "I need you to write your feelings in th-" you got cut off. When you turned around you saw Frank standing infront of you. His dark brown eyes drowning in yours.

You knew what you both wanted. You leaned in and cupped his face in your palms, his arms wrapping around you waist as his lips brushed against yours. He cleared your desk of all papers, just enough room for you to sit on. He parted your legs as he started to unzip your jeans. You eagerly pulled them down. His fingers started working at your thirsty clit. You moaned at the sudden pleasure before thinking. What the fuck are you doing? You pushed Frank away and pulled your pants back up. You wanted him so bad but you knew this wasn't right. "C'mon baby, let me make you feel good, okay?" Frank said as he stepped closer to you. "This is morally wrong, Frank." You said, avoiding eye contact. When you looked up at him, you were reminded of who you were rejecting. His broad shoulders, large biceps and almost everything else about him turned you on. "Ugh make it quick" you said taking your clothes off again. He pulled his jeans off before signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. You felt his cock rub against your entrance, making you even more wet. You suddenly felt him deep inside you, pounding hardly as he hit all the right places. He let out a groan, you could tell he was close. You moaned with every thrust, bringing him closer to his climax, and you closer to yours. He left a few marks on your neck, which you only saw when you opened your eyes and saw your reflection in his eyes. "So gorgeous, so needy, so wet all for me, huh?" He whispered. You nodded your head. He let out a huge groan as you felt his waist get weak. "Cum, cum for me baby" he whimpered into you neck and you felt his warm fluids fill you up. You screamed his name as you finished causing him to let out a satisfied chuckle.

He let you onto ground, carefully helping you get dressed before he did. You cleared you throat. "So uhm... that concludes this session... i-uh I need you to write you feelings in this everyday for a month.." you tried to sound professional but you were lost in your thoughts.

"Yes ma'am"

♥️not proofread♥️

@versatilehater

#jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #shane walsh #shane walsh smut #the walking dead #twd smut #twd #frank castle imagine #frank castle #frank castle smut #the punisher smut

[thebrunettemuse]

pureblood princess (part two)

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

part: one , two , three

summary: james and the pureblood princess sit on the dock on the great lake and have a chat. oh and you fall in, did you forget to mention you couldn’t swim?

tw: almost drowning, slut shaming, fist fight, blood, mean lily? idk if that’s a tw i suck at these

a/n: nothing much to say except i didn’t proofread again lol also i promise more angst soon because we’re all sick in the head and love ourselves some angst hehehe

James waited by the water on the dock, his legs hanging over the edge and his feet just barely not touching the water. He sighed, maybe you’re not coming. He wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t, you were you and he was himself. The two of you, as friends, didn’t make sense. Your time was probably better spent with you own friends.

But then footsteps trailed down the dock behind him, making his head whip around to see who it was. “You came.” he smiled.

“Of course I did.” you smiled, sitting down next to him. “Can’t stand up my favorite study partner.” you joked and he laughed lightly.

“Favorite, huh?” he questioned and you nodded with a small smile on your face, looking down at the dark water and tucking your hair behind your ear.

The two of you sat in silence, the sound of the water crashing against the dock filling your ears. It wasn’t awkward either, in fact you enjoyed where you were— just as you were. It was comfortable. Despite your immense fear of the water below.

You lived in the Slytherin common room, you saw the depths of it and the sirens through the window, they looked beautiful but ever so terrifying. You couldn’t help but think of one reaching up through the water, grabbing onto your legs and pulling you in.

“So why didn’t you ask Lily?” you asked, you were curious as to why James Potter asked you before he asked the girl he was so head over heels for.

“Because I wanted to ask you.” he shrugged, his legs kicking back and forth like a little kid.

“Come on, James. You’ve been in love with that girl since first year, everyone knows that. Today was the perfect opportunity to hang out with her.” you looked over at him, but he kept his gaze at the murky water. “I mean I saw her sitting alone in the courtyard on my way over here.” you explained.

“Mm, I’m sure Severus found her.” he replied casually. You bit the inside of your cheek. The past six years at Hogwarts him and his friends relentlessly bullied the boy for a reason you assumed was because Snape was in love with her but James was too, and James just had to have her.

“I know James Potter is not giving up on Evans.” you laughed and he shook his head. “So who’s the lucky girl?” you asked and he looked up quickly.

“What?”

“There has to be some new mysterious girl you have your eyes on, otherwise you’d be pestering Evans right now.” you explained your comment seconds ago.

He stared at you for a moment, his face still and expressionless, which made your face go red and looked down. “Sorry, I’m prying too much.” you shook your head.

“No you’re not.” he shook his head. “The new girl is a secret, I’ll never tell.” he smiled mischievously.

“Ahh.” you nodded, your words breathless. “Secret meetings in the broom closet kind of girl then?” you teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Definitely not.��� he scoffed and looked back at the water. “I’m not sure she even likes me.”

“Since when has that stopped you?” you commented.

“Since now!” he defended.

“Okay, okay. Since now then, I guess.” you acknowledged his uncomfortable demeanor.

“I don’t know, she’s not like any other girl i’ve liked.” he dived deeper. You looked at him with a settled expression.

“I’m sure she’s great.”

Silence, but this time it was awkward. James sucked in a deep breath, looking back at the water. He had anxiety in his chest, he wanted so badly to tell you how he felt then and there but ultimately decided it would be too quick, and he didn’t want whatever you and him had to be quick. He wanted to take his time, ease into things. You seemed like the type of person to scare easy. He would be patient, though.

“So are you just afraid of water or can you actually not swim?” he teased and you scoffed.

“I can’t swim.” you shook your head with a smile on your face.

His hand reached around your back, gliding across it and you looked over at him with furrowed brows. Despite the confusion, you would say you didn’t mind the touching. His touch was gentle and soft.

One hand grabbed your upper arm, the other doing the same to the opposite. He pushed you forward, but not fully. Only to psych you out. You gasped out in fear, your eyes screwed shut. But you remained dry and above the water.

You pried yourself from his grip and stood up, looking down at him angrily. “That wasn’t funny!” you yelled as he laughed.

“You should’ve seen your face!” he gasped through his words through the latter, his hand holding his stomach. You stared at him, not even phased. “Come on, you have to admit that was a little funny!” he defended, his hands going up on the air like he was presenting a case.

“You suck.” you started walking down the dock but your foot slipped on a wet patch on the dock, not to mention it was already slippery, and your body came crashing down into the water. Your arms flailed about, the only thing you could see in your eyes was water washing around you, you couldn’t breath.

James quickly stood, didn’t even hesitate take a second to take off his shoes or his shirt, and jumped in after you. He swam down just a few feet and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to the surface of the water. You both gasped for air.

James swam over to the dock and you placed you hands on the edge. He pulled himself up, sitting back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you up. You took a second to breath, laying your back against the dock. Your body was shaking, so was his. From the cold water no doubt.

“You— you saved me.” you breathed heavily and he nodded, swallowing.

“I told you I would.” he looked down at you. He noticed your lips were blue and you were shaking. James immediately leaved over you, grabbing your shoulder. “Are you okay?” he questioned and you nodded, him helping you lean up.

“We should get inside, you’re freezing!” he stated, both of you standing up and walking back towards the castle. You both were soaked and trudging up the hill and into the courtyard.

Of course Lily Evans was still there, sitting with her friends and looking as perfect as ever. You sighed as she stared at your soaked form. She giggled, whispering in one of her friends ear.

“If you have something to say Evans, just say it.” you rolled your eyes, looking at her. James stood behind you. Where did this sudden aggression come from?

“I just think it’s funny you’re running off with James now.” she shrugged, this smug smirk on her face. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Running off?” you asked, offended.

“Yeah. You come back to seventh year all pretty and now you think you can get any guy you want? It’s just typical for people like you—” Lily commented.

“Are you jealous Evans?” you shot back. “Tell me, does it give you pleasure to deny James over and over again only to suddenly get possessive over him just because he’s finally moved on?” Lily’s mouth fell open, standing from her sitting position on the grass. “News flash, me and James are not a thing.” you crossed your arms.

‘Ouch.’ James thought.

“That’s what a slut would say, wouldn’t it?” Lily pushed her anger further. It didn’t take another word from her for you to swing at her and land a punch on her jaw. Lily stumbled back, holding her face and looking up in anger. “You’re on.”

Lily stepped towards you quickly, enough to catch you off guard and punch you straight on the lip. Your hand reached up to gently touch your lips, pulling away to see blood. You only scoffed, running towards her and shoving her to the ground. You landed a punch on her eyebrow, she grabbed your arms and flipped the two of you around. One punch straight on your cheek bone, hard enough to bruise it for sure. Then another across your nose, blood immediately dripping from it.

“Stop!” James ran forward, dragging Lily off of you. She fought back but he held her in place. You quickly stood up, fixing your clothes before walking off.

“What the hell got into you, Lily?” he asked, letting her go. She stared at him in shock.

“Are you kidding? You’ve been at my feet for yours and now you’re mad that I’m fighting for you?” she questioned angrily. “Some things are worth fighting for James.” she crossed her arms.

“Not anymore.” he shook his head, looking at her with disappointment written all over his face.

“You’re wasting your time with her, you know that? Even if you’re just friends.” Lily warned. “She’s the girl who is ruthless, remember? I mean look at her family!” Lily explained.

“She’s not like them.” James shook his head.

“And how do you know that?” she asked. James stayed quiet. “No, don’t go quiet now. Give me one good reason why.” she pushed. James flipped around and ran inside, down the hall and towards you.

“Wait!” he called but you kept walking.

“Go run back to your girlfriend, Potter.” you said his last name just like before you guys knew each other, really knew each other.

“She’s not— Y/N wait!” he grabbed your arm and flipped you around. You had a cut on your lip and your cheek was a dark red. You had blood dripping from your nose and down your face, onto your neck. He scanned your face with worry.

“Stop looking at me like that.” you pulled your arm away.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like I’m some basket case, your next person to fix.” you shook your head, tears in your eyes. Unsure if it was because of what you thought he was thinking or because your nose hurt so damn bad.

“I’m looking at you like you just got into a fist fight and you’re hurt.” he explained.

“I’m fine.” you went to turn away but he grabbed your arm. You looked down at his hand, the grip it had, and then back up at him in shock. No one, not even your friends were kind enough to stick around this long.

“Let me help you.” he whispered. “Please, let me help you.” he reiterated. You looked down.

“Fine.” you agreed.

The two of you walked to the bathroom, him instructing you to sit on the counter top. He grabbed a small hand towel and got it wet with warm water. You held your nose, tears now streaming down your face.

“Let me see.” he asked.

“I think my nose is broken.” you whispered.

His hand gently reached up to grab your wrist, your hand pulled away and he looked at it. Yet he didn’t let go of your wrist.

“It looks okay.” he nodded, his free hand reaching up with the damp towel and started to wipe the blood from your neck, lips and under your nose. You winced every once in a while, but eventually you were all cleaned up.

He went to put the towel away but you whispered something that made him stop in his tracks.

“Thank you..” you said so gently and it almost made his heart break then and there.

“Always.” he nodded, then pulled himself away from his gaze and threw the towel in the bin when the door flew open. Both James and you jumped at the suddenly loud sound.

“Did you hear? Lily Evans and Y/N Y/L/N got into a—” Remus said out of breath but stopped once he saw you. “Holy shit!” he gasped, looking at your wounds.

You scoffed. “You should see the other guy.” you joked.

“No kidding.” he said in shocked, inspecting your face. Remus looked over at James who was wiping his hand.

“What was it about?” he asked, turning back towards you.

“Evans called me a slut for hanging out with James.” you shrugged.

“Are you— you know— a slut?” he asked curiously. James hit his arm. “Ow! What? I’m only asking.” he defended.

“We’re just friends.” you smiled with tired eyes.

“Just friends, huh?” he asked in a condescending tone which landed another hit to his arm. You furrowed your eyebrows, narrowed your eyes. Both the boys stared at you with innocent smiles.

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter x reader #james potter x slytherin!reader #james potter

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

its about to get real up in here y’all (also this chapter is HUGE I apologize)

part twenty-one

❝ MURDER CENTRAL ❞

TUESDAY — AUGUST 11 — 6:57AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP AROUND SEVEN THE NEXT MORNING, CURLED UP AT THE END OF TIM’S BED LIKE A CAT. 

The night before was nothing more than a teary, emotional blur. Tim’s anxiety attack had lasted for an entire hour and twenty-seven minutes. An hour and twenty-seven minutes until he could breathe easily again, until his mind came back to him and he was left drained and empty.

Bentley sat in the floor with him for the whole hour and twenty-seven minutes, being almost impressively unhelpful. He was sure his own crying wasn’t helping to ease Tim’s anxiety — if anything, he’d probably just made it worse. But he stayed. And that counted for something, right?

Tim was now curled up on top of his comforter, drowning in a red hoodie Bentley was sure he used to fit in a little better, dead asleep with the hood tugged tight over his head. No words had been exchanged — not after the attack, not when they wordlessly took up residence in the bed and sat awake until they couldn’t. Not that Bentley knew what to say anyhow. All of the calming tactics Tim had taught him didn’t seem to work on him at all. The breathing exercises, the gentle conversation, the grounding touch — none of it worked. The only thing that seemed to work for Tim was waiting.

Bentley wondered, silently, if that changed with each attack, or depended on the person having it.

Bentley would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like a failure for not noticing. Now that he knew, he couldn’t seem to not notice. The way Tim’s clothes hung looser, how he was the slightest bit bonier than usual, that he was rejecting what was brought to him so he could focus on work instead. Bentley had known for a while now that patrol was getting bad again, that villains were popping up, that Tim was working extra extra hard to keep up. But he just hadn’t noticed.

No one seemed to. The conversation between Dick and Tim sounded like the first time they’d spoke about it this time around — which had to hurt. He’d been working too hard for weeks at that point. And still; no one noticed, no one said a word until Dick did it for them. And Bentley didn’t think Dick was the one Tim was hoping would notice.

Bentley had to admit, hearing Tim say Bruce hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of days thanks to him sucked. It was just another reminder that, no matter how badly he wished otherwise, Bruce wasn’t his father, and the Wayne’s weren’t his family. All he was doing was stealing Bruce away from his actual children. (All adopted, but still actual. More actual than Bentley.)

What did that make him? A burden? A theif? An unnecessary addition?

He turned to look at Tim. Asleep, he was much more peaceful than awake, although he still looked… Bentley didn’t know. A little troubled. His face was shadowed by his hood, his black hair hanging down near his eyes, his skin only the slightest bit paler than normal. He was curled up impossibly small for a nineteen-year-old. His knees were tucked up close to his chest, his arms coiled around his body so tightly it was like they were the only things keeping him together. He looked younger. Too young.

How old was Tim when he started living with Bruce? Thirteen? Fourteen? That would mean he’d been in the Manor for five or six years. Five or six years. And a kid who had been there for one was stealing his dad away from him. After all, Tim had been adopted. They all had — Tim and Jason and Dick, they were all Bruce’s sons. Damian was Bruce’s biological son. And Bentley was just… some kid that lived with them. He wasn’t adopted, he wasn’t Bruce’s son, he was just… Bentley Whittaker.

It boiled down to this: Tim deserved Bruce’s attention. Bentley did not. Tim was Bruce’s son. Bentley was not. So Bentley decided he just needed to get out of the way.

With a soft sigh, he carefully pushed himself out of Tim’s bed. Bentley would never forget sleeping in it after his first anxiety attack, with Tim right next to him. Maybe it at least helped Tim a little to see Bentley right there after his.

He felt pretty much like a dumpster fire for leaving Tim’s room while the poor boy was still sleeping, but it wasn’t actually that big of a deal — because as soon as Bentley stepped into the hallway, he ran straight into Bruce face-first, who’d been reaching for the door handle.

“Bentley,” He said softly, with quiet surprise. “I didn’t expect for you to still be in there.”

Bruce looked tired. Bentley wasn’t sure what had happened on patrol, or if it was tougher when Tim wasn’t on it. He had that reassuring smile that never ever seemed to leave his face, and his grayish eyes were… not dull, but not normal, either. Everyone in the Manor was suffering from something or another, all multiplied by the Secret Keeper’s appearance. 

Maybe if Bentley and Asten and Nico could really destroy her, it would help them. Tim wouldn’t have to do all the work, and patrol wouldn’t be so bad, and their minds wouldn’t be open playgrounds for her to thrive in.

Maybe he had it all wrong, when he decided he needed to be the Puppeteer again. That approach worked for Asten, but Bentley had already proved he wasn’t good at keeping up that act around the Wayne’s — one thing happened (an anxiety attack, for example) and it just fell apart again, leaving him exposed and emotional and dumb. Maybe he didn’t need to destroy the Secret Keeper just to prove his worth. He needed to destroy her… both to prove himself worthy, and to help them.

Bentley gazed up at Bruce, blinking a couple of times. Then he looked toward Tim’s door. “Tim, he… he had…”

“I know,” Came Bruce’s reply, and one of his hands landed on Bentley’s shoulder. “You did good.”

Bentley breathed in. “I didn’t do anything good. I cried.”

“But you stayed with him,” Bruce replied, smiling reassuringly, squeezing Bentley’s shoulder. “Sometimes Tim just has to wait them out. Staying counts far more than you think.”

Bentley shook his head lightly, glancing down the hall. “I tried to go get Dick, but he didn’t want me to leave…”

“You did the right thing, Bentley,”

Did he? Did he do the right thing? He was sure not. Even right now, he was doing the wrong thing, holding Bruce up in the hall when he’d very obviously been trying to go into Tim’s room. Bentley moved out of the way, out from under Bruce’s hand like it burned, toward his bedroom door. “I should get ready for school.”

Bruce said something, but Bentley didn’t really hear it. All he could hear were the repetitive chimes of not my dad, not my dad, not my dad, that seemed to play over and over in his head.

Bruce wasn’t his, and he wasn’t Bruce’s.

Bentley’s only real family was in prison for trying to kill him.

He closed his door and silently got ready — showering, putting on his uniform, the works. He needed to catch the Secret Keeper now more than ever. For himself, for Tim, for Bruce, for Dick and Damian and Jason and Cass and Steph and Duke and everyone.

It was suddenly seven-twenty-three, Bentley was trying so hard to tie his tie, and his phone dinged with a text from Asten in the group chat.

I got burners, it said.

Bentley stared at the message for a solid ten seconds before he realized he had no idea what burners were.

Nico’s reply came in an instant.

Where did you get burners??? PLURAL??????

Asten replied with: A good supervillain-hunter never tells his secrets.

Bentley had to look up what a burner was — it turned out, it was a phone that you threw away when you were done that was difficult to trace. Usually used by people committing crimes. So, Nico’s question stood: where had Asten gotten burners? And what was he going to use them for? Tricking the police?

Another text from Asten came: I know how to check if dr Keene is guilty.

Bentley scrunched his face up, grabbing his phone off the bathroom counter and typing: how?

Asten’s reply was: get to school early, we’re stealing his phone.

Bentley blinked to himself as messages came flooding in. Nico sent three separate texts, each with a single word: NO. WE’RE. NOT.

Everyone keeps secrets on their phone! Was Asten’s reply.

Bentley put his phone down on the counter and kept tying his tie. 

He could probably convince Duke to take him to school a little earlier than normal.

Another text came through from Asten.

Bring the computer.

—

It was pretty easy, actually, to get to school early — Duke was very open to taking Bentley early so he could finish some science homework (that didn’t exist) with Asten and Nico.

Lying to him did hurt just a little… especially because Duke seemed so genuinely happy to do it for him. But he needed to, he convinced himself. To help them all.

They arrived to the Academy about thirty minutes early, half past eight, and Bentley met Asten and Nico in the library.

There weren’t many kids in the halls yet, apart from a few older ones who were studying or working before their first class. The whole school seemed quiet and empty. Bentley wasn’t sure where Damian and Duke went when they split off in the lobby, but he assumed it wasn’t much of his business, anyway. Instead, he made for the high-top table with one extra chair buried between bookshelves that Asten’s and Nico were sitting at. They were the only students in the library — the librarian didn’t even seem to be there yet.

“‘Sup, Whittaker,” Asten called as soon as Bentley turned into the aisle of bookshelves. His blue-tipped black hair stuck out like a sore thumb between the shelves, though Bentley was pretty sure it would stick out anywhere you put him. “I heard it’s national steal your teacher’s phone day.”

Nico slapped him in the arm from across the table, looking rather miffed. “Say it louder, the Russians didn’t hear you!”

“Relax, there’s no one in here to hear,” Asten muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Come look. Did you bring the computer?”

The question was directed toward Bentley, who walked up to the table. He pulled out the empty chair and climbed up into it, not bothering to take his backpack off. “Yeah.”

Asten had his black backpack in his lap, and he dug around in it, pulling a ziplock bag out just far enough for Bentley to see what was inside. It was old-looking phones. Like, six of them. Burners, he realized.

“Are those the-“

“Yeah,” Asten cut him off with a nod. “Nico and I are going to go to the Harbor after school. That’s where we’re gonna make the calls so we can throw them in the water after,” He explained softly, shoving the bag back in his backpack. “You should come — I’ll need your voice. It shouldn’t take that long.”

Usually, any statements of you should come would go completely ignored by Bentley. He wasn’t much of a go here go there kind of person, but spending time with his friends  seemed… kind of brilliant. He’d be with them for the plan, out of the house so Bruce could pay attention to his actual kids, and out of the way. At least for a while.

“I’ll ask,” Was his reply. 

“Tell him it’s a… science project or something,” Asten suggested, flicking a hand toward Bentley. “And that we’re going to Nico’s house, not frolicking around Gotham.”

There it was again — the little twisty feeling he got in his gut at the thought of lying to Bruce.   Bruce didn’t deserve to be lied to. But, if he knew what they were doing, there was no way he’d allow it; so Bentley had to lie. There was no other way.

Before Bentley could even think about pulling his phone out, Asten exclaimed: “There he is!”

The trio all turned toward the sliver of library windows they could see from between the shelves, gazing out into the hall in the same direction Asten was. They were just quick enough to catch a glimpse of Dr. Keene, in his blue button up and slacks per usual, heading away from his classroom.

“Come on!” Asten was already out of his chair and shuffling between the bookshelves, zipping his bag up as he crept toward the front of the library.

“We’re gonna get arrested,” Nico muttered, sending a mildly terrified glance to Bentley before they both climbed out of their chairs. Bentley fought the buzzy anxious feeling that surfaced beneath his skin when he realized that, yes, they were seriously on their way to steal Dr. Keene’s phone. God, if Bruce found out about this, Bentley was absolutely done for.

Asten looked back at them with a snicker, his green irises shining with amusement as they stopped near the door of the library. “Stop looking so terrified, you guys. Looking terrified makes you look guilty.”

“We are guilty!” Nico shot back, crossing his arms.

“Say it louder, the Russians didn’t hear you,” Asten mocked with a sly little grin. “Seriously, just play it cool. We’re looking for Dr. Keene for… tutoring or something.”

Nico huffed. “Yeah, because they’ll believe that.”

“Have a little faith, dude. I once convinced a cook I was the Mayor’s nephew and got free food from a batburger for an entire week,” Asten explained, pointing over at Nico. “We’ll be fine. Come on, before he comes back.”

Bentley sent a glance Nico’s way as Asten trailed into the hall. They followed him wordlessly. The empty and silent halls still weirded Bentley out just a bit. He could see all the way down the dim hall, back into the foyer with the staircases. There wasn’t anyone there, right now, but it definitely seemed like something to watch.

The three of them jogged down the empty halls until they made it to Dr. Keene’s classroom door. It was closed, and according to Bentley’s phone, class started in twenty-four minutes.

Asten turned the handle and shoved the door, and much to all of their surprise (and Nico’s terror) it swung open.

“Bentley, I need that computer. Nico, stand at the door and watch for him to come back,” Asten ordered. The classroom, too, looked strange and empty when they filed in. All the desks were vacant, the skeleton in the corner without his signature bowler hat. The blackboard hadn’t been written on yet.

Nico closed the door and stood entirely too close to the little window that was cut into it, staring into the hall like his life depended on it. Asten immediately went for Dr. Keene’s desk in the corner.

Bentley followed along behind him, laying his backpack on their teacher’s desk and unzipping it carefully. Tim’s old laptop was sitting right in the center of all his books, and he gently pulled it out, laying it next to Dr. Keene’s big computer monitor so it was facing Asten.

The Brazilian was digging through drawers and cabinets so quickly Bentley wasn’t sure if he would actually see the phone or not. “Here — can you find the wires I put in here?”

Asten shrugged his backpack off and tossed it lazily in Bentley’s direction. He managed to catch it by a single strap and, with a final glance to Asten, unzipped it.

There wasn’t much in there — a couple spiral notebooks, his red pen, the ziplock of burners and a bundle of several multicolored wires that looked like… phone chargers?

“These?” Bentley questioned, pulling out the wad of purple, black, and white. Asten glanced at him briefly in the midst of all his shuffling. 

“Perfect. Just lay them on the desk,”

Nico made a high-pitched noise from across the room, and both Bentley and Asten glanced over at him. The blonde was scurrying away from the door like he’d seen a ghost.

“Jesse’s coming! Jesse!” He squeaked.

Asten opened his mouth, but only a faint sound came before the classroom door flew open, and Jesse Todryk stepped inside.

His blonde hair was a mess, and his uniform was wrinkled and maybe even faintly stained, if Bentley was seeing right. He didn’t have his dumb earrings in, and he didn’t look near as intimidating as usual.

Everyone stared. No one said a word. Jesse Todryk’s vomit-green irises flicked from one boy to the next, meeting brown, emerald green, and blue. His eyes drifted to Asten’s hands that were buried in Dr. Keene’s desk, and he got a sick look on his face.

“You three are getting so suspended for this,” He said with a twisted sort of giddiness about him, turning to duck back into the hallway.

A voice came, loud and clear, bouncing through the quiet room: “No!”

Bentley hardly realized that it was his.

Jesse turned on his heel. “What was that, Wayne?”

The redhead froze, resisting the urge to shrink with all the eyes that were laser focused on him. He glanced to Asten and Nico, who were staring back blankly, offering no help.

Control the conversation.

“We’re trying to figure out what happened to your sister,” Bentley explained, taking a step forward, toward Jesse, keeping his words laced with a little venom for good measure. “We already have leads that connect her and Dr. Keene to the Secret Keeper, and we were about to be even closer to finding out what happened before you decided you needed to be a little snitch to make yourself feel better.”

Jesse creased his brow, glancing around the classroom before he pulled the door shut with a quiet click. Bentley watched the way his stone expression faltered in the slightest, the shine at the back of his irises spinning into something different. “You’re seriously playing detective? You three?”

“Wow. I know you said he was slow, but this is just ridiculous,” Bentley muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing back at Asten.

Jesse glanced between them, exasperated. Asten had a look on his face like he was trying very hard not to smile.

“Very funny, Wayne,” Jesse spat. However, he didn’t leave the room, nor did he stalk forward to punch Bentley in the face. He just sort of stood there.

“What are you waiting on? For us to invite you into our motley crew? Our merry band? Because it ain’t happening,” Asten hissed from across the room.

Jesse made a few faces, different emotions passing across his features. “The cops are being little pansies about the Secret Keeper. Too afraid to do their jobs,” He muttered, crossing his arms. His expression faltered again, to something like… sadness? “Do you guys seriously believe you can find her?”

Did Bentley actually think they could do it?

“Yes,” Asten answered for him, glaring at Jesse with a vengeance burning in his eyes. “And if you go tattling on us, we’ll get suspended, probably questioned by the cops, and we won’t tell them anything we know. Just so you’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing that you were the reason Mandy was never found.”

Bentley breathed in. Were they playing up the amount of knowledge they had? Oh, definitely. The police probably did know what they knew. And would Jesse telling on them really assure Mandy was never found? Absolutely not. But they were using his feelings for leverage, just like Bentley’s father taught him.

Asten was a natural at this Puppeteer stuff.

Jesse sighed heavily, his expression changing subtly, like he was conflicted. “Mm… fine. Fine, I won’t tell anyone. Just because it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else looking.”

Use the leverage to get what you want.

“And if you ever touch any of us again, we’ll call off the search and keep everything we know to ourselves,” Bentley added. Jesse scowled at him, long and hard, and then groaned.

“Don't push your luck,”

“I’m not the one whose sister is missing,” Bentley shrugged. “I think your luck is the one that shouldn’t be pushed. Do you want us to look for her or not?”

Jesse scowled deeply again. “Fine. You win. But I swear; if anyone hears that I spoke to you three, I’ll knock your teeth out,” He huffed. He made a face like he’d just eaten something gross, opened the door, and disappearing into the hallway without another word. The door��clicked behind him.

No one said anything for a solid five seconds. And then:

“Geez, where’s that Bentley been the whole time? I like him!” Asten muttered with a snicker, shaking his head as he continued to dig through the desk drawers. “Please be brutal more often. It’s so refreshing.”

“Should I be offended by that?”  Nico questioned, drifting back toward the door. Asten shrugged.

“If you really want to,”

Bentley said nothing. That Bentley wasn’t so much Bentley as it was pre-programmed Puppeteer. But he guessed, if it worked, it worked. 

“Finally,” Asten chimed as he pulled a small blue device out of the top desk drawer, sliding it closed with a thump. Bentley watched in quiet fascination as he looked through the wires, plugging them to the phone until he found one that went in the charging hole just perfectly. He plugged the other end into Tim’s computer, opened it, and started typing around.

Bentley stepped forward. “What’re you doing?”

“Password reset software. It’s the only way we can get into the thing,” He replied, like it were obvious.

Bentley said nothing. Sometimes, it was uncanny how much Asten reminded him of Tim.

It took only two or three minutes before the phone opened up to the home-screen on command.

“This is so illegal,” Nico muttered from the door, his eyes focused so hard on the hallway Bentley thought they might’ve been starting to water. (Or maybe he was just crying, which was a possibility.) 

“Nothings illegal if you don’t get caught!” Asten replied, grabbing the phone off the desk and moving toward Bentley. “Let’s see what we can find.”

Bentley glanced over at the screen, eyes flicking between all the apps and folders on the home page. Asten’s first instinct was to click on the text messages.

There were several names Bentley didn’t recognize, probably Dr. Keene’s friends and family. Asten scrolled quickly, until he stopped on a name Bentley did recognize. 

Amanda Todryk.

Asten made a face. “You should look away. Just in case.”

Bentley wasn’t sure why he needed to look away, but he did. A few seconds of quiet passed before Asten said: “Okay. You’re good.”

Bentley turned back toward the phone, and the text messages between Dr. Keene and Mandy were displayed on the screen. Asten scrolled a bit, revealing that it was mostly just a repetitive string of tutoring today? From Mandy and yes from Dr. Keene. Those two texts repeated nearly every day, including Sunday, the day Many went missing. There were no messages after that.

Asten left that message thread and scrolled to the bottom, humming when he didn’t recognize any more names.

Bentley did. 

The very last name on the text list. Asten left the app and moved on quickly, so Bentley wasn’t totally sure, but he could’ve swore he saw the name… John Whittaker.

“Look away again. I’m going into his photos,” Asten ordered. Bentley did as he was told (but why did he have to look away every time?) until Asten said it was fine for him to look back. The photos app was closed, and Asten was scrolling through his apps. Twitter. Note Taking Pro. Amazon. Rentals for Royals.

Asten stopped on that one. Bentley wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it looked rather harmless, really — the symbol was a swirly little crown with a bunch of colors.

“What’s that?” Bentley questioned. Asten clicked on it, and the app began to load.

“You can let people rent out properties from you on here. Like… letting someone else use your house like a hotel,” Asten explained. Bentley scrunched up his nose. There were enough people in Wayne Manor already.

The app opened, revealing a photograph of a beautifully manicured cabin in pine woods that looked like something out of a mystical storybook. There was a title below the picture that read: Pinewood Cabin.

Asten hummed and scrolled down. “Looks like Dr. Keene owns a sick Air B&B in the woods somewhere.”

Bentley watched as Asten tapped on things so quickly he couldn’t even focus on what they were, bringing up something that looked like a very colorful calendar. Each day on the calendar coincided with a color-coded name that was listed off to the side. Bentley guessed that calendar told Dr. Keene who was scheduled to stay.

Sunday was green, and the names Amanda Todryk and Lanse Handal were in green off to the side.

“Oh my God!” Asten started.

“What? What? What?!” Nico shouted across the room with such urgency a passerby might’ve thought Asten was dying. 

“Mandy rented out Dr. Keene’s Air B&B with Lanse Handal!”

Apparently that name meant something. Bentley did recognized it, only a little, but he didn’t know why.

“What? The senior from the Soccer team that went missing?! They probably rented it before he disappeared!”

Went missing. That must’ve been why Bentkey recognized the name — it would’ve been on Asten’s research list.

“I bet they were planning on having a one night-“

“No!”

“-stand.”

“Shut up!” Nico squeaked, glaring daggers across the room at Asten. Well, Nico was a bit too soft for it to be considered daggers — maybe blunt pencils.

“What’s a one night stand?”

Nico and Asten’s eyes both came to rest on Bentley, Nico’s filled with terror, Asten’s with surprise and maybe faint amusement. Bentley glanced between them as they seemed to blink, blankly, offering no explanation whatsoever.

“It… uh…” Asten started, glancing over at Nico, who shook his head with the most serious I’ll kill you look Bentley had ever seen from him. They pair seemed to have an unspoken argument, which lasted for a solid ten seconds before Asten coughed awkwardly.

“You should ask Bruce. And, uh… don’t look it up,” He finalized, stiffly patting Bentley on the shoulder a couple times. “Now, back to this. I think we need to take a trip to the cabin. An undocumented trip.”

Nico scrunched his face up. “Why?”

“Because Mandy was going to stay there on Sunday night. They said she never came home after tutoring, but she wasn’t going home, she was going there with her little boy toy.”

“Asten,” Nico warned, still glaring those blunt pencils. “Please stop. And absolutely not. We don’t even know where it is, and we’re not breaking in.”

“The address is in my hand, dude,” Asten stated, pulling his own phone out and taking a picture of Dr. Keene’s rental property’s information. “Cabins in the woods are murder central. We know that from, like, every horror book and movie ever. We have to go. Just to make sure.”

“To murder central,” Nico sighed.

“Yes, to murder central,”

Bentley breathed in deep. First, they stole a teachers phone, and now they were going to break into his rental property? He wasn’t sure he liked where this whole plan was going.

But, he guessed, if it proved or denied Dr. Keene’s innocence for sure, that’s what they needed to do.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

#batboys #batfamily #batman #tim drake #damian wayne #dick grayson #red hood #red robin #oc; bentley #oc; bentley whittaker #mb; a hundred ways to become a wayne #ov; secret keeper #ov; the secret keeper #oc; asten #oc; asten evans #oc; nico #oc; niko rockefeller #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #barbara gordon #oracle #nightwing #jason todd #red hood dc #dc red hood #cassandra cain #orphan #stephanie brown #spoiler #duke thomas

[herofics]

could i ask for gojo or basically anyone from mha with a reader who's suddenly dealing with memories of cocsa? thanks

A/N: I picked Gojo, since I just felt like I wanted to write about him this time around. I know you just sent this, and I have a few older requests that I’m working on, but I wanted to write this right away for some reason. I don’t know any other meanings for COCSA other than child-on-child sexual abuse, so I’m assuming that’s what you meant. This request is a bit broad, but I just did some angst with comfort. I haven’t written stuff like this in a while, but there are some similar scenarios in my masterlist, which you can find in the pinned post. I feel like I’ve mostly dealt with my own COCSA trauma, but I do still find these kinds of things therapeutic to write. Not gonna lie though, this sort of triggered me and I cried a lot while writing this, but I’m all good now and it was therapeutic I guess.

Word count: almost 2k

Warnings: (Graphic?) mentions of COCSA/rape, mentions of blood, self hate and reader blames themself for what happened

Today was not a good day. You were almost glad Gojo wasn’t going to be home for at least a day, he didn’t need to deal with this too. He had enough on his shoulders already, he didn’t need to try to handle your shitty mood and flashbacks too.

It wasn’t like this everyday. The memories just resurfaced sometimes and it was like they knocked the wind out of you. It was like a punch in the stomach and it made you want to puke. Sometimes you could still feel hands on you and this was certainly one of those days. You scratched your arms and thighs but the feeling wouldn’t go away. It never did, but you still always hoped that maybe this time would be different.

You decided to take that shower you’d been avoiding the whole day, hoping that maybe the warm water would wash away some of the guilt and self hatred.

You were almost done taking off your clothes, when you happened to glance in the big mirror that covered the inside of your wardrobe door. You saw it again. It was like someone had turned back time and you were staring at your child self in the mirror. A little kid, crying, disheveled in just a t-shirt and bloody underwear, with bruises all around their body, and blood running down their inner thighs. You didn’t even notice you were crying too, before your legs gave out and you just sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Why me?” you whispered between your sobs.

Your whole life you’d been told it wasn’t your fault, but no one had yet managed to convince you that that was true. You knew it had been his fault too, that boy who did this to you all those years ago. You’d also convinced yourself that you were to blame. You were the one who went with him. You were the one who didn’t scream and shout, you were the one who didn’t try to run away until it was too late, and by then, he already had you in his grasp.

“Why did you follow him? Why didn’t you fight back?” you’d heard those questions countless times. It was horrifying how much parents tried to justify their kids’ actions. “Surely you did something to make him do this to you” was one of the phrases you would probably never forget.

You felt like you were drowning in self hatred and guilt. How could you have been so fucking stupid? “You were just a child” some reasonable part of your brain whispered, but that was swiftly drowned out by everything else. You were still just sitting on the floor, but now your crying was quiet. You were rocking yourself back and forth, as if in a trance. The words “It’s your fault” kept running circles in your brain.

Gojo knew he wasn’t supposed to be home yet. He knew you weren’t expecting him for at least another day, but he was just happy to get back to you. He pretty much skipped up the stairs to the front door, he missed you.

He opened the front door, the house was quiet, suspiciously so. The lights were on, so clearly you were home, but you wouldn’t answer when he called your name. Nothing was out of place, but something was wrong, he could feel it. He just didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t feel any hostility or strange cursed energy around, but something was undeniably wrong.

When he found you on the bedroom floor, sitting in front of the wardrobe, he could see your reflection in the mirror. You had this vacant look in your eyes, you hadn’t even noticed him come into the room.

Gojo knelt down next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. It brought you out of your trance immediately, but not in the way he expected.

“Please don’t-don’t touch me” you pleaded as you suddenly started backing away from him.

You hadn’t noticed Gojo come into the room, but the moment he touched you, you came back to reality. His touch felt disgusting, you felt like his hand would burn a hole through your t-shirt. God why was this happening? Why were you reacting like this to the person you loved so much?

“Okay, okay, I won’t” he assured. “What’s wrong doll?” he asked as he stuffed his blindfold into his pocket.

You had backed away from him until your back hit the end of the bed, so there was about a meter of distance between you. Gojo felt like there was a ravine between you, like he couldn’t reach you on the other side. All his powers and techniques wouldn’t help here. He hated feeling this powerless.

“Talk to me, please?” he almost sounded like he was begging.

You shook your head with this panicked look in your eyes. Gojo didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort you if you wouldn’t let him hold you. It was like someone was tearing his heart into pieces. All he could do was sit there, and wait.

You wanted to tell him what was going on, you wanted to explain, but you didn’t know where to start. Would he think it was your fault? Would he blame you too? Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped your lips.

“I was raped”

Gojo just sat there, he felt like couldn’t process what you’d just told him. Raped? No, surely he heard wrong.

“What?” he had to ask, he had to make sure he’d really heard wrong, he really hoped he heard wrong.

“It-I was a kid and I was-I was raped…” you stammered.

He hadn’t heard wrong. Gojo had to really restrain himself to stop from embracing you. He wasn’t sure how else to comfort you. That was his love language, touch, but you really didn’t look like you could handle any of that right now.

You took a few deep, wavering breaths. You had stopped crying, at least mostly, but the self hatred and guilt were still very much there.

“I’ve been having some-some flashbacks and memories-and memories resurfacing today, and as you can-as you can see, it’s not a good day for me-me” you tried explaining.

“Do you need me to do something? I’ll do anything” Gojo stated very seriously.

“Can you just-Can you just sit there until this passes?” you asked apologetically. “I don’t- I don’t want to be touched right now, even the thought makes me want to vomit”

You didn’t want to make Gojo feel like this was about him, it wasn’t him touching you that made you feel nauseous, anyone would have gotten the same reaction.

“And it’s not about you, I just don’t want anyone to touch me right now” you added.

Gojo sighed in relief, for a moment he was scared he had done something wrong.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You were starting to feel more stable, not good exactly, but better than before. Gojo’s presence helped, he made you feel safe and like no one could hurt you again. It was also a bittersweet feeling, you just wished someone like him had been around back then. Someone to stop anything bad from ever happening to you.

“I-I don’t really know how to talk about it. People don’t want to hear about stuff like that, not really, even if they want to help” you shrugged.

“I want to help, I really do”

“I don’t think you need to hear all the nauseating details of it. I know you want to help, but I’ve only got myself to blame really. I was so damn stupid” you shook your head with a disappointed sigh.

Gojo had to stop himself from reaching his hand towards yours, instead he just balled his hand into a fist. You didn’t want to be touched, he needed to respect that. Hearing you say that made him so incredibly frustrated. How could you blame yourself for something so horrific someone else had done to you?

“You weren’t stupid, you were a child and that should’ve never happened” Gojo said slowly.

“That’s no excuse though, I should’ve known better. I should’ve know the things he did were wrong, before it was too late”

“I don’t know how old you were when this happened, but would you expect a kid that age to know what you were “supposed to know”?” Gojo asked.

“No, but-” you started but he cut you off.

“So why would you expect it from yourself at that age? You shouldn’t need to know better as a kid, other people should know not to do shitty things” Gojo tried to reason with you.

That shut you up quite effectively. You would never expect it from anyone else, so why would you expect something like that from yourself. You didn’t really have a counter argument, and it had undeniably shaken your attitude of self blame and hatred just a little.

“Hah, you can’t argue with that, can you” Gojo smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“You’re so proud of yourself for coming up with that” you rolled your eyes, but your lips curved into a slight smile.

“If it made at least a dent in all that self hatred you’re carrying around, then yes” Gojo nodded.

“It’s not like I actively hate myself, it’s just days like these… mostly” your voice faded.

“Then I want to make sure you’ll never have a day like this again” Gojo said with a very serious tone. He looked so determined.

“That’s sweet Satoru, but I can’t promise that, and neither can you” you smiled sadly.

“Well we can at least aim for less days like this, right?” he asked.

“I think that’s a good start yeah” you nodded.

You were still sitting on the floor against the end of the bed, but you seemed much more relaxed and calm than when he came into the room. Gojo was happy you’d shared more of yourself with him, but he obviously wasn’t happy about what you’d told him. If Gojo were to ever get his hands on the guy who’d hurt you, he wasn’t sure what he might end up doing.

“I think you need some food and a lot of rest. I can take care of the first one and cook you something, but after that, you're going to bed” Gojo announced.

“I’m not even gonna argue with you about that, because you’re right”

“I’m always right” he smirked.

“Oh yeah, definitely” you rolled your eyes with a playful chuckle.

“Let’s go, I’ll cook for you” Gojo said as he stood up, and offered his hand to you to help you up.

You looked at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. It made you feel guilty that you didn’t want to touch him right now. You loved him so much, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take his hand right now.

“Sorry I-I can’t, not yet” you apologized and got up on your own.

Gojo realized what you meant and pulled his hand back. He couldn’t help but feel a bit bad, he didn’t want to seem like he was pressuring you, even if he desperately wanted to hold you.

“No worries, you don’t need to apologize for that” he shook his head.

“I love you, Satoru” you smiled with some residual sadness still in your eyes.

“I love you too, (Name)” he smiled softly. “Now then, what would you like to eat?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jjk comfort #jujutsu kaisen comfort #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #tw rape #cocsa tw #blood tw

[addsalwayssick]

Hello, my loves! I have an angst oneshot for you all today but I believe it requires some warning that shouldn’t be ignored. This oneshot is *Heavy*. It is mean to be a PSA for school shootings. Multiple MCD’s. Trigger warning include: Suicide, School shooting, guns, crying, panicking, fear. Keep yourself and your mental health safe, everyone.

Remus and Sirius chattered away at Remus’s locker at his passing period. The morning was bright, the sun was shining, and it was almost the end of the school year. It was early May, and the day seemed as if nothing could go wrong.

As they walked to their next class, Sirius pulled out his phone to text Effie about what’s been going on today, not knowing it would be the last time.

Out of the corner of Sirius’s eye, he saw kids running, but he thought it may have just been rowdy kids. Then he heard the screams. Sirius and Remus turned to each other, eyes wide.

Remus turned to a deserted classroom on one side, and Sirius turned to the deserted classroom on the other. They closed the doors, turned out the lights, and put down the shades. Remus heard steps outside of his door, and was barely brave enough to peak through the rectangular window above the door.

He saw a man holding a gun. He was trying each door by him, most of which were locked. Remus has remembered to lock his door, thankfully. He prayed Sirius did the same.

He got to Remus’s door, and Remus held his breath. His hand went to his face to cover his nose and mouth, and he closed his eyes. The door handle jiggled, but the man evidently left.

He heard him walk away. Remus let out a sigh of relief before he heard a loud, earth shattering scream. He knew who it was before he heard the gunshot and saw the blood dripping onto his side of the door.

He heard the man walk away again, this time faster. He raised his head to look up through the window again, seeing a man he had once called his own, splayed out in all his beauty with a gunshot wound through his skull.

Remus let out a sob, covering his nose and mouth again. He heard the policeman come and take Sirius’s body away from him. He screamed and cried and met up with James, who couldn’t find Lily or Regulus and was panicking. Eventually he found Regulus, but they never did find Lily. Well, they did. She was in the girls bathroom. She had been shot multiple times and ended up bleeding out. He remembers James gut wrenching sobs as he heard the news. He saw Regulus’s face tighten, then release a load of tears he’d never seen before.

Remus had gone home that night and cried. He cried to the stars and the moon and everything in between. He cried to the God he wasn’t sure he believed in after this. But most of all, he cried to the star he’d once knew it real life. He cried in the chilly night sky until his mother came outside and sat with him. The first and only words she said to him before she went inside was, “Cry yourself a river, but don’t let yourself drown in it.”

But Remus didn’t listen. Remus let himself drown 5 days later when the weight of Sirius being gone became too much. Remus died the same way Sirius did. A gunshot through the head. This time it was at the hands of himself instead of a random man. The last thought that ran through his was ‘oh how excited I am to see you again.’ before the gun let out a bang.

#sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #sirius #jegulus #sirius x lupin #wolfstar #regulus and evan and barty #sirius and regulus #remus and regulus #heavy topics #please take care of yourselves #do not read if this is triggering #dead dove do not eat #i think #idk what to tell you #MCD #school shooters

[harlowhockeystick]

give me all the ej angst!!!! make me suffer <3

"you were the first one who actually loved me"

contains: angst, sadness, cuss words, age gap relationship (reader is 21) | dbf!erik johnson x fem!reader | j's 2k celly

based off of this ask

it had been a little over a week since erik left you high and dry, well, since you left him. a little over a week since he had freaked out over the fact that he might have gotten you pregnant, something that was within his control- something he knows now.

since then you've been staying secluded in your own room at your parents house, only coming out for meals or when you're asked. other than that, you've been staying in your room. you gave the excuse to your family that you had gotten sick, that you needed alone time to prepare for going back to school...anything that you think they would believe.

you kept checking your phone for any sign of erik. any text, call, any sort of notification- but there was nothing. not even an email. you felt stupid, you felt naive and used. you lived with him for a month at his ranch, helping him with all of the camps he ran, helping him around his ranch house. you were with him, also. he took you on dates, you shared parts of yourself with him that you never did with anyone else before.

you made love with him, he told you that you were the one he wanted. you were the one for him. you were the woman that he'd been dreaming of. so why would he do such a thing to you?

you had heard the doorbell, the dogs bark and your dad welcome somebody into the house loudly. you just drowned out the noise and turned up your tv. focusing on the show, distracting your brain from going to the events from the week prior.

soon you hear a knock at your bedroom door. you sighed, looking at the floor to see what shoes they were, trying to figure out who was on the other side. not being able to tell you sat up in bed and paused the show, "come in." you said quietly.

the door opened and erik stood on the other side. your stomach dropped and your heart started to race, you were frozen. you didn't know what to do or say. he stepped in and closed the door behind him. he took a look at you, and the room you were cooped up in, and it was clear that his actions took a toll on you. he wasn't stupid, be he did a stupid thing.

"can we talk?" he asked quietly, standing in front of your closed bedroom door. it felt extremely out of place, erik standing in your bedroom. your childhood bedroom, where you would have sleepovers with friends, then you would go on to have your first kiss, then sneak boys in and out, them climbing in and out of your window.

he was met with silence and he wasn't surprised. erik took a step closer, careful not to step on any clothes that were on the floor. he moved a bag and a pillow to sit down in a chair that was in the corner of your room.

"i told your dad about us." your gaze snapped forward toward him, moving from your blanket up to his eyes. his large, six foot four frame, looked so much smaller sitting in your bedroom chair. he looked almost like a little kid having to tell his mom that he got in trouble at school.

"why would you do that?" those were the first words he had heard you speak in over a week. they broke his heart. he broke his own heart, though, by doing what he did to you. making you feel bad for something that he had control over, making you feel used, making you feel like a little kid.

"i had to. your dad had been...confiding in me a little over the past couple days. we played golf two days ago, and he mentioned that you were moping around." erik explained, standing up from the chair and taking a couple steps toward your bed. his hands were in the pockets of his joggers, his frame still incredibly smaller than it normally was.

"i was worried about you, but i knew i couldn't just come over here. so, i told your dad. at first he was...upset. he had concerns, he was mad that it was hidden for so long," erik took a breath and then sat down on the edge of your bed. he looked at the carpet beneath his shoes, the rug that was by your night stand, the pair of dirty butterfly pajama's on the floor.

"but then i told him about how much i loved you. how i have done nothing but care for you over the past month, that you mean everything and more to me. i didn't tell him the exact reason why you were upset with me...but i told him that it was my fault that you're depressed."

erik looked over at you, his eyes meeting yours, and his heart sank. he hated seeing you sad, he hated seeing you this way; he hated knowing that he was the cause of your sadness.

"and i know, you're about to go back to school and i don't know what this means for you and me, but uh, you mean a lot to me. i'll do anything you ask of me."

"anything?" you responded, sitting up in your bed. he nodded his head, a slight stream of hope flowing through his veins. "then leave." his heart dropped again.

"you were the first one who actually loved me, erik. then you did what you did, and broke my heart right in front of me. you used me, i'm not meant to be used. so get out."

he thought it was best to not argue with you. he knows what you did, and he deserves every bit of bad looks and bad words that come out of your mouth toward him. he gets it.

so, he nods his head and walks out. makes small talk with your dad then heads to his home. you sit up and look out your window, watching him walk down the street toward his own house. he didn't look back to see if you were looking.

#my asks #j's 2k celly #erik johnson #dbf!ej #erik johnson imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey imagine #j's writing

[naavispider]

Could you do a one-shot between Quaritch and Spider about a thunderstorm? Spider is frightened from the loud bangs caused by the thunderstorm and has a hard time falling asleep. Spider shrieks from fear and Quaritch hears it and notices it coming from his son. He comforts him and both fall asleep together.

This is very similar to another ask I got, which I was typing my response to but TUMBLR decided to DELETE it instead of saving as a draft 😤 (lesson learned, never type long answers straight onto tumblr)

Spider had experienced his fair share of storms. The thunderstorms in the forest had been rare but terrifying. He remembered that one really bad one that flooded sector C of Hell's Gate - the science guys were totally freaked out, though they'd tried not to show it to Spider. He'd huddled in his room, plugging in his music as loud as it could go while the wind and the rain pounded against his window. The noise couldn't drown out the booming claps of thunder that could shake Spider down to his bones. He used to close his eyes against the lightning, wondering every time if this was the final blow - if Eywa had finally had enough of the human base on her planet. Surely this was her retribution against them. Spider couldn't think what else could possibly cause weather as terrifying as this.

So when the first rumble of thunder echoed around the demon ship, Spider froze. They were on deck, and the recoms had been saying for a while that a storm was brewing. They'd seen it on the satellite data, and the ship's crew were all preparing for the assault. Quaritch reassured him that the ship was built to weather conditions like this, but Spider hadn't missed the look he gave Wainfleet immediately after.

The clouds had darkened to a deep grey, and the choppy water reflected the anger from above. When the wind began to pick up, Quaritch called the squad together to retreat down below. They packed up their makeshift camp on the deck, and brought everything inside. As Spider had nothing, he mostly watched, but he made sure that Quaritch had packed the ukulele.

"Get in there, go," Quaritch spurred him on, gently pushing Spider into the airlock just as the first real boom sounded from the heavens. Spider didn't say a word as the squad made their way to the rec room - the largest indoor room that could easily fit all of them - while staying out of the way of the crew who were going to have their work cut out.

"Well this is gonna be fun..." Savine remarked as she plopped herself down against the side of the couch, bringing out her tablet. "Do we know how long it's gonna last?"

Lyle had opened his own tablet. "Looks like a few hours," he muttered, scanning the moving, colourful swirls on the map. Spider could see the data too, and despite not knowing anything about weather patterns, it didn't look good. This was going to be a big one.

Quaritch handed him the spare tablet. "Here, kid. Amuse yourself however you see fit - and buckle down."

How reassuring.

Spider took the screen and made his way over to the gap between two of the nailed in couches. There was a space just big enough for him to slide into, and he wriggled his way in, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting the tablet on them. He scrolled through the shows on the only app that didn't require iris scanning to open, finally deciding to try a new one called Pinky and the Brain. For a while, the colourful images were enough to distract him. He liked the story, although Pinky did seem a bit dumb. The Brain was definitely his favourite character so far.

When the rain started to patter the tiny windows, Spider began to tense up, and found it even harder to concentrate when the pattering slowly increased in ferocity, eventually morphing into sheets of water that hammered the sides of the ship. The noise was almost loud enough to drown out the cartoon. The recoms were having to raise their voices just to be heard as they sat it out. Spider glanced around anxiously, taking a small amount of comfort in the fact that nobody seemed to be panicking.

Unfortunately, Quaritch caught his eye. "Relax, kid," he said, his eyes raking over Spider's tensed up form, his slightly widened eyes. "You look like you're about to be eaten."

Spider glared at the man. He returned his gaze to the cartoon, but it was no longer enough to distract him from the rain and the now howling wind that was beginning to sway the ship. He grasped a shaky hand onto the side of the couch that he was wedged between, trying to steady himself as the floor rocked upwards, then down again. He breathed out slowly through clenched teeth, trying to relax.

"Shit!" he jumped as another clap of thunder roared through the room.

The rest of the recoms were either laying down chatting, or still attempting to get some admin done on their tablets. However, even the most determined of them had to give that up as the rocking of the boat increased and they were forced to steady themselves as best they could.

"If anyone vomits I swear to God I will throw you overboard!" Savine called.

Fuck, what was happening? Spider knew Quaritch had been very reassuring about the strength of the ship, but this seemed crazy. Spider knew how big these storms could get, and they were bad enough in the forest - sheltered by the canopy and not in imminent danger of sinking. Out here? On the ocean? Spider didn't want to think about it. What happened if the ship sank? What happened if they were struck by lightening? Dread pooled in his stomach as he tried to push down the nausea accumulating at the back of his throat.

He was going to die.

"You're fine," came a low voice in front of him.

Spider opened his eyes.

Quaritch was on the floor next to him, and reaching a hand out to place on Spider's leg. The recom's face was earnest - sincere.

"The ship's prepared for storms like these, this ain't its first rodeo. It's gonna pass, all we have to do is wait it out."

Spider swallowed, torn between his existential fear and something that felt like embarrassment. He didn't want to seem like a scared little kid.

"I'm f-fine," he stuttered, but his whole body was tensed up, including his jaw.

"Uh-huh," Quaritch said, appraising him.

"Piss off," was what came out of Spider's mouth. Wait, he didn't mean that. Why did he say that?

Quaritch raised his eyebrows in a surprised and questioning stare.

Spider felt the urge to apologise. But no, he hadn't lost all of his pride - not yet. "Just... just tell me when this will be over," he said.

Quaritch waited a moment before replying. "Probably a few more hours yet, kid."

Fantastic.

His face must have betrayed his hopelessness, because Quaritch squeezed Spider's knee. "I promise, it's alright."

Spider looked up at the man, unconvinced, but didn't reply. He didn't want to open his mouth in case something unintentionally rude came out again.

Quaritch removed his hand from Spider's knee, and reached back across the floor to pick up his own tablet. However, for the next two hours he stayed on the floor next to where Spider had braced himself. Spider wasn't sure if this was a coincidence or not, but he was grateful for it anyway.

With Quaritch beside him, he knew there was no reason to fear. Quaritch was not a stupid or naive man. He couldn't see the Colonel sitting idly by while a life-threatening storm tore up the ship. If there really was any danger, Spider knew that Quaritch would evacuate them, or come up with a plan.

And that night... That night Spider finally realised that he trusted Quaritch.

#spider miles socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #colonel quaritch #avatar the way of water #one shot #request

[ofstoriesandstardust]

day 1 - seven o’clock news/silent night - rebel mitchell

a/n: it’s not me if we don’t start off strong with some angst hehe. this is going to bookend day 12 and i’m very excited for it. phoebe bridges did an amazing cover of simon and garfunkel’s “seven o’clock news/silent night” with a modern twist and this inspired me so enjoy. :)

summary: The worst Christmas of Rebel’s life.

12 days of ficmas | main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: angst, homesickness, a military parent who is determined MIA, fear of death of a parent, mentions of religion, my general Navy inaccuracies 

word count: 1,470

The crunch of the snow echoes against your ears as the bite of the freshly fallen snow stings your cheek. Your lips are chapped and you’re sure the bare skin of your face is red and raw from taking the brunt of the wind. Distantly, your brain registers the carolers across the way, the only streetlight dimly lighting the area below. 

You blink back the tears threatening to cascade down your face, knowing they’d just become salt icicles in the cold of the night. Numbly, you sit down on a bench, not bothering to wipe the snow away as your brain replays an endless loop of the news you’d spent hours listening to.

Thousands of miles away from home, across international waters, you’re not even sure where in the world you’re stationed right now. You know the town is small, snowy and remote, with only two news channels and a local channel that has been playing White Christmas, dubbed in German, over and over again for the last three days, according to your new wingman. 

When the weather had predicted snow, your new wingman had been disappointed, frowning at just her luck, returning to Florida for the holidays. You had merely sniffed and sat down on your new bed, turning towards the window to look for a storm that had not yet formed. 

If only you had known what kind of storm would be waiting for you. 

You’d just gotten to the quiet town that day when she left for her leave. Your heart ached to turn around and go with her, upset you’d gotten new orders just days before Christmas. She had only been gone for a few hours when the phone rang, clear in the night. 

You’d been watching the news when the call came. Your head had been laying on the spare pillow for the couch, images and voices of faraway conflicts and politics on repeat as your eyes drooped close. You had turned all the lights off, preferring to allow yourself to wallow in the dark, just for this moment, just for this one night. If you strained hard enough, you could hear the carolers in town, the faraway jingling of bells. Otherwise, it was quiet. Almost peaceful. 

Peaceful as all Christmas Eves should be.

The phone had vibrated above your head and you had started, blinking as you reached out for the object. You’re not sure what strings Ice had pulled for you to even have this luxury all the way out here, but you’re grateful nonetheless. He might not have been able to delay the orders but he’d been able to grant you this at the very least. You blink, immediately recognizing the number flashing across the screen. 

Ice. 

You swallow. Probably calling to wish you a happy holidays, to cheer you up despite everything. You answer the call as your eyes refocus on the TV screen as you answer, realizing the screen is showing images of some building on fire, a base far away having been attacked. Pilots missing. Planes down. Nothing left. 

“Hey kiddo.” 

“Hi Ice.” You answer softly, moving to turn the volume down on the TV, to drown out the sounds of someone else’s nightmare. 

Your godfather takes a shuddering breath. “Kid, something’s wrong.” Your eyes flicker back to the screen as you swallow. 

Couldn’t be-

“Something happened where your Dad was stationed. We- I can’t tell you much but he- his plane got shot down. They’re out looking for him now, but we’re not sure what we’re going to find.” 

In that moment, everything feels like it freezes as your heart stops in your chest. 

“Ice, please-” You beg, squeezing your eyes shut as the tears burn. You’re not sure what you’re asking from him, pleading to some God who will ignore the silent prayer in the word.

“I need you to prepare yourself for the worst.���

You don’t say anything for a few minutes as you sit there, hand not holding the phone digging into your thigh, fingernails sure to leave a mark. “How long?”

He sighs, shifting on the other end of the line. “He was declared MIA this morning. I was holding off on calling you until we knew for sure but-”

A whimper escapes your throat as your hand comes up to silence it as you realize what this means. Being declared MIA was never a good thing but at least there was hope. But this, if Ice was calling you, it meant there was no hope left. 

“Kid, don’t give up just yet. We’re going to keep looking, I promise. I’ll call you again as I know more.”

“Okay.” You whisper as your bottom lip catches in your teeth, unsure what else to say to him. 

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” You whisper, your voice cracking in the middle. 

“Merry Christmas.” The call clicks off as you numbly pull the phone away from your ear. Something flashes across the screen, bringing your attention back to the footage of the building on fire. Your hand reaches out for the remote, clicking it off. The screen goes dark, leaving you in complete and total darkness. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there in the cold and dark of the house but at some point you do pull yourself up, thinking to grab your jacket and shoes as you slip out the front door, hoping to find some peace as you walked into the town. 

Being this far from home and the people you loved for the holidays had been hard enough but this... everything you’d ever known in your life could change in the next 24 hours and there was nothing more you could do but wait. 

You pushed your hand in your pockets as you let out a shaky exhale, coming back to the present. You watch the puff of air appear in the air from your breath as a shiver goes down your spine, one you’re hoping has all to do with the child. 

First time seeing snow and this is how it’s going. 

Your chest feels tight as the tears surface once more as the carolers begin singing a quiet rendition of Silent Night. You allow yourself to let go, allowing yourself to think about what this means. The tears are warm against your skin, tasting of salt as they run down your face. 

Everything could change. No more Dad to go home to. No more joint leaves and dinners with Ice and Sarah. You’d have to bury your father and you would be alone. Ice would be there, so would Sarah and Slider, and a million others who’d stepped up throughout your life because it takes a village but- it wasn’t the same. 

A sob rips from your throat as you realize you may have said I love you to your Dad for the last time your Dad would ever be alive. 

Another hand comes up to your chest as the tears increases, shoulders heaving you think about who would make that call to Bradley. 

For the first time in years, you gave yourself a moment to think of him, to allow yourself to think of all you lost when he’d left. Because for all that things had been ruined, he still deserved to know. Deserved the chance to be there for Maverick if this was his only chance to say goodbye. 

You’d never admit it outloud how much you hoped he’d still care. How much you hoped he’d show, if not for your Dad, then for you. Ice would never reach out to try and rebuild that bridge, still angry with what Bradley had said to your father (information you weren’t privy too), for what walking out had done to his goddaughter. 

And you’re angry too. But sometimes you still missed him so much it hurt. You wondered what he’d say to you right now, if things hadn’t happened the way they did. You thought about the way it would feel to be pulled close to his chest in a hug as he soothed you, assuring you everything would be okay. To return what you’d done for him so long ago. 

You reach up, desperately trying to wipe the tears from your face. There was nothing more you could do now but wait. 

Eventually, even the carolers dispersed as the street finally does fall truly silent. The street light, dim as it was, begins to flicker and then goes out, casting the street into a quiet glow, only light coming from the stars, reflecting off the freshly fallen snow. The town is finally quiet as you lean back against the bench, taking in what otherwise would’ve been a beautiful sight. 

There was nothing more you could do but wait. 

silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright

#rebel mitchell #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #ky's 12 days of ficmas #12 days of ficmas #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell

[foxchild-v]

-Bound to an endless- part 6 a threat to everyone?

Thank you all for your patience. This one was a little harder to write. I have some familiar problems and my mind is constantly wandering there so writing is pretty hard at the moment 😅 but nevertheless: I present to you, the nect chapter. As always: english is not my first language.

**********************************************

Summary: After some time you meet Morpheus again. But not in the way you wished for. Instead you'll have to face another challenge

Warnings: alcohol, strong language, slow burn, Morpheus beeing an ass again he just can't stop , probably some tiping mistakes,...

Pairing: Morpheus x you

Story summary - previous chapter

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"You've got to be kidding me? And he dropped you off? Just like that? And now he vanished for over two weeks? This fucking bastard. I'm gonna kill him!" - "Johanna, please. You can't kill an endless" you pinched the bridge of your nose.

She was furious. You just told her everything that happened between you and Dream and she reacted the way a good friend would react. What did you think? Did you really think she would abadon you like he did? "Watch me, Y/N! But we have to do something against your frowning face first. When was the last time you loosened up a little?"

You thought about it scrunching up your nose. "I actually do not know. A hundred years ago?" - "And I thought I am miserable. Ok put on something that doesn't scream 'I-am-a-miserable-abadoned-godess' and off we go. No arguing! And hey, no more sad faces!"

Johanna practically dragged you into her favorite dive. You didn't want to be here but drowning in your own sorrow wasn't an option either so you just gave in.

Downing one drink after another as your friend tried to cheer you up, you just wished for time to fly by. Johanna was horrified by how much alcohol you where able to consume without getting drunk. "Slow down, honey. I swear to god, even immortals will get drunk. I saw some of them puking their guts out." - "Immortals maybe. Gods? Well its time to find out don't you think?" Was that worry mixed within her smile? Or sorrow? You did not care. How can someone as powerful as you get rejected by Morpheus? Did he really think you were not worthy of him? You started to get angry at him.

As you two sat there, you felt a little pinch inside your body. Someone was calling for you. Stronger than every calling you felt for a long time. Johannas eyes widened as she realised what happened. "Y/N, dear. You don't have to go. You need a little selfcare. Just send them your spark." Her voice was soft. A tender touch as she placed her hand on yours. "I am sorry. But I can't ignore my dutys, Jo. This one is strong. It feels like an endless calling for me." - "You think...?" - "No. He feels different. Soothing even when he is cold. Destruction almost felt like this. But it is not the same." - "Is he back?" - "No. But I must go now. Thank you."

Wide green meadows greeted you as you appear somewhere else. You did not recognize this place. Even tough you knew every place on this planet. In all these years of your duty you have never been here. The only building around called for you. Someone in there was hoping for something. Someone strong and determined. So you made your way inside.

Your heart stopped as voices drang in your ear. Panik filled screams mixed with a dark raspy tone you where oh so familiar with. "The child was concieved in The dreaming. It is mine. And one day I will come for it." There it was again. This cold tone. Reasoning with arguments no one was able to decipher. "No you won't. You will do nothing..." This was her. The one who called you. "This dream is over, Rose Walker." You wanted to reach for her. Comfort her as you felt her growing need of help mixed with anger for her objector. But suddenly you found yourself inside Morpheus' palace.

"You killed my friend." Dream was shocked as he turned around and saw the girl standing there. In the heart of the dreaming. You realized it was not his intend to do bring her here. As for you, you just followed her power. Eyes widened in confusion as he laid eyes on you. "Y/N?" - "Morpheus." You stated dryly. "And you are?" Rose was visibly confused. "This is Y/N. The lady of hopes. I guess your yearning brought her here." - "I can introduce myself, Dreamlord, but thank you." - "You will not interfere with my matters." - "This is my matter as well. Her hopes brought me here, not you, not myself. So I will stand by her side." Anger was written all over his face.

"Enough! I do not need any 'help'. He killed my friend. Infront of his wife and then he threatened to take her baby." Your demeanor towards her softened as you laid a hand on her shoulder. Words were not needed when she felt your warmth rushing trough her, realizing you were there to strenghten her. Seeing you like this Morpheus was sulking. You were standing on Rose's side. Not his. You were against him. Opposite to your behaviour towards her you just glanced at him with anger filled eyes.

"Do you know why this happened? A vortex gathering strengh can weaken the walls between dreams." A Vortex? Rose Walker was a vortex? She was a threat to the dreaming as much as the waking world. But there was something wrong. You could feel it. Something about her, that did not fit. But you could not pinpoint it just now.

"I did not ask for any of this!" - "Even so!" - "No! I do not want you near me or any of my friends ever again." - "Rose, listen to me." - "I do listen to you. You said a vortex can create universes. Or destroy them. So I suggest you leave my universe the fuck alone" - "Rose" -"This dream is over!" With that said, she vanished. Leaving you and Morpheus standing there. Perplexed and shocked.

"See. She is strong. Growing stronger every minute she stays alive." Your anger grew immense as he tried to argue. "So you just want to kill a CHILD?" - "She is not a child. And she is a vortex. A threat..." - "A threat to you and the waking world. I know. You don't have to teach me the meaning of a vortex. But there must be another way, Morpheus!"

His face softened as he stepped closer. Raising a hand to touch your face. But you flinched back. You would not allow him to touch you. Yes, your heart still pleaded for him. For his touch. But he has not changed. Even if you wished so after all that happened between you two.

"Her power is slowly destroying this realm." Lucienne came to her Masters help. "I know. But we have to find another way. It is not right." - "Y/N, my beloved friend. I know this is hard. But it must be done." - "No!"

"I will tell you once again: do not interfere with my matters, Hope!" A frightening tone in the monarch's voice as cold shaddows loomed over you. You straightened your shoulders to stand strong against his appearance. "There is something wrong here and I will find out what it is, even if it means loosing my chance for my soulbound forever!"

Lucienne and Morpheus were silenced as you spoke your word of power. You vanished with warm lights filling the air. Detemined to set this right once and for all.

**********************************************

@just-a-little-fox @dreaming-about-fanfictions @22carolina08 @boofy1998 @bisexualunicronrunningloose @chaotic--bastard

I hope I'll find some time to write the next chapter faster. Thank you all for your support 🥰

Next part

#morpheus x reader #dream x you #the sandman #dream of the endless #dream x reader #morpheus x you #dream x y/n #fanfic #morpheus x y/n

[stein-is-sleepy]

stay strong for me, okay? (wc. 1k)

you and nanami have been in a healthy relationship for three years now. some fights here and there but nothing too bad. it was april 7th, 12:34 am. you have been waiting for nanami in his office, being his secretary after all. you needed him to sign some documents for a couple clients. the phone by his desk rang, the sound was annoying so you picked it up. to your surprise, it was for you. "hello? is this Y/N?" the caller spoke, in a slightly worried tone. "yes, this is Y/N speaking." you wondered why the tone of the caller was like that. gloomy and down. "you're dating nanami kento, correct?" "yes, I am his girlfriend." you were starting to get worried, the caller taking a deep breath before speaking again. "he's in a car accident. at the hospital right now. he's breathing but he hasn't woken up in around 3 hours since the crash. I'm his nurse, he's in room 17-A, third floor at the 'Tokyo Saiseikai Central Hospital'." "okay, thank you." you hung up the phone, quickly gathering your things as you headed down into the parking lot. once you got inside, a few thoughts wondered into your head. 'is he okay?' 'will he be okay?' 'stupid fucking nurse, telling me almost three hours later.' ' how did she know what number to call and who his girlfriend was?' it was like a waterfall of stress and emotions.

april 7th, 12:52 am.

you had arrived at the hospital around 10 minutes ago, in the exact room nanami was in. you sat next to him on a table, holding his hand as you watch his chest rize and fall. the nurse you had talked to came in the door. "hello, ms. Y/N. i'm nurse yumi. nanami's alright, his blood signals are fine but--" once she said but too many thoughts went into your head. a mix of emotions and anxiety drowned you. 'but?' 'why but?' 'i thought he was fine?' 'why?', 'why?, 'why?'. "--he has a brain tumor. possibly fatal. it's only minor for now, we're going to have a surgery later, around 4:30. only close family can watch or stay." you didn't even realize it but tears were running down your cheek. your grip on nanami's hand only tightened. no words came out of your mouth. no thoughts came into your head. nothing. just the pure thought of the man you loved, dying.

june 29th, 2:05 pm.

it had been two months since you first came into this hospital. the first few weeks of being there, you slept beside him, wrapping his arms around you to stimulate the times he held you close. most of the time he was unconscious but when he was, the two of you always talked about what you wanted to do once he was okay again. how he wanted you to carry his child, how he wanted to marry you in, how he'd propose, how he'd break the news to his family, your family. today, you were in a chair, sitting beside him. that was how you spent most of your days. you never left him. no, never. his birthday was less than a week from now so you wanted to ask him what he wanted to do for his birthday. "nanami, what do you want to do for your birthday? any wishes?" you asked, your eyes as soft as clouds, your voice like honey. "i want all the curses in the world yo be gone." god, his voice and the way he looked at you was like heaven. heaven in a man. heaven in a person. "another wish. one that's possible." "well, i don't know. i'm already with the best thing a man could ever ask for so i'll think about it." "think about it long and hard for me, okay?" "anything for you." the way he spoke to you made you get butterflies in your stomach even though you've been with him for such a long time.

july 2nd, 11:37 pm.

you were with nanami again. his brain tumor just getting worse. tomorrow would be his birthday. the day he would hopefully be granted out of the stupid hospital. you decided to ask him what his wish was again. "nanami, what's your wish for your birthday? your doctor said you could probably get out tomorrow." "i want to marry you. i want you to have our kids. to be the greatest mother in the world. the best wife anyone could ask for." "i promise we'll get married as soon as you get out." "you better keep that promise." "i will." nanami had a letter on his night stand. you wondered if it was even a letter. i might've just been some random letter the doctors left. "you need some sleep. i'll stay with you." nanami pressed the back of your head against his chest. pressing a small kiss on your forehead. he nodded then closed his eyes. his hand was intertwined with yours, slowly falling asleep. you were still awake though. just staying with him for the most. then, he squeezed your hand three times before his grip suddenly went away on your hand. that was when you fell asleep.

july 3rd, 3:04 pm.

nanami kento died on july 3rd, 4:56 am. a day before his 28th birthday. it was his around an hour after his funeral, you were just sitting by his grave, the tears slowly falling down on your cheek. then, his nurse gave you the letter on his nightstand. it was for you. you opened it, finding out was his last wish was.

'my dearest, Y/N,'

'i'm sorry left you alone. i'm sorry we never got married. the truth is, i want you to be happy. to love even when i'm gone. i want to see your pretty smile looking up at me. don't cry at my funeral, okay? i know it's hard not to but stay strong for me, okay? i won't be here anymore but i want you to know i'll always love you. i love you.'

(an: this is heavily inspired by oikawa's last wish on ao3. this is also my first angst work so im sorry if it seemed rushed or bad. i hope you had a good cry!)

#nanami kento #heavy angst #jjk #jjk x you #fem!reader

[slashyrogue]

AU-gust Day 7: Science Fantasy

Will had, for as long as he could remember, always heard a voice. 

It began quietly when he was young, almost a whisper. 

Hello. 

His parents never told him about voices, or made him think he should have one, so he didn’t tell them. He answered the voice back, curious about why it was there, and that’s how his relationship with Hannibal began. 

Just one word. 

Hi

The voice, louder now that he’d answered it, soon became a constant companion. Will was excited to finally have someone to talk to, share secrets with, that wouldn’t judge him for what he said. His parents often used him as a buffer for each other, tossing him back and forth till it hurt to even speak at all.

But the voice didn’t. 

The voice listened, was patient, and even did things like help him with his homework. Will’s grades started to steadily improve over the next few years, though his parents' marriage did not.  His mother ended up leaving when he was nine, not even a note on the table, and the divorce happened after but his father never remarried. 

Will didn’t care much though by then, years after the voice had come into his life, and soon he was about to enter high school. 

Which was when the voice started to change. 

It was still there for him, as before, but there were times when he could sense anger. 

Do you think she’s attractive? 

Will frowned. 

She’s pretty, yeah. 

She’s not worthy of you, Will. Not worthy at all. 

I don’t think she likes me, so that doesn’t matter. 

You shouldn’t like her either. 

Will could hardly deal with trying to make friends, the voice drowning out any outside conversation, and by the end of his freshman year he was ‘Weirdo Will’ because of how often he got caught talking to himself. 

His father didn’t notice how sad he was, so he had no one. 

No one but the voice. 

Why are you always here? Is there something wrong with me?

There is nothing wrong with you, Will. 

Then why do I hear you, why….why does it feel like you’re real? 

Because I am. I’m very real. 

He stared up at his bedroom ceiling in tears. “You’re not real, you’re just…my imaginary friend I never let go of. You…you can’t be real, I’m just crazy.” 

There is nothing wrong with you. 

“Then show me,” he whispered, a tear falling down his cheek, “Show me you’re real. Tell me your name, tell me who you are, come out and touch me. Something, anything.” 

It didn’t. 

So Will did the only thing he could and went to his guidance counselor, Ms. Bloom. He sat down, looked her in the eye, and said three words. 

“I need help.” 

Which was how he learned to ignore the voice. He got put on medication when Ms. Bloom recommended to his father he see a psychiatrist, and learned exercises to ignore intrusive thoughts. 

It was hard. 

So hard. 

Will, please don’t do this. 

Will, you have no idea what you’re doing. Please don’t ignore me. I’ve been waiting for so long. 

Will, please. 

The voice got down to a dull buzz, always there, even when he graduated high school but by then he had grown out of his “weirdo” faze. He’d had several girlfriends, even one boyfriend, and though he was still strange he wasn’t the weird kid. 

He went to college in hopes to become a policeman, and even got on the force by the time he was twenty five. 

Then at twenty six everything changed once again. 

Will got shot on a call - one he was told not even to go on - and got permanently injured. He was taken off the force, and headed home only to more terrible news. 

His father was dead. 

A car accident, it seemed, drunk driving that had him careen right into a telephone pole. So Will went home, buried his father, and sat on his old bed bursting into tears. 

He felt broken. 

He felt so alone. 

Will laid back on his bed, tears wet across his cheeks, and after ten years he closed his eyes and spoke inside his head. 

I need you. 

There was nothing, not a single response, and Will laid on his side aching so badly he could hardly breathe. The pain in his upper leg made him whimper, still fresh even after six weeks, and he let out a sob. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I…I’m so sorry.” 

Will. 

He let out a laugh, sitting up, and the voice seemed like a warm blanket. 

I’m sorry. 

I know, Will. I know. 

My Dad is dead. 

I know, Will. I’m sorry. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath, and laid on his back again. 

Can you show me now? Show me how you’re real? 

The voice was quiet, too quiet, and he feared again he’d be alone forever. 

“I don’t need it,” he said, sitting up again with his legs on the ground, eyes open fast, “I just…” 

Will froze when he felt something touch his leg and looked down to see a skeletal hand wrapped around his ankle. 

Are you scared, Will? 

His heart beat wildly in his chest as he shook his head, and the hand rose up to touch higher. 

No. 

You should not be. I would never hurt you. Never you. 

Will had tears streaming down his face as he whispered two words. 

“I want to see your face.” 

This time the voice that answered back was not in his head. 

“Soon.” 

#au_gust_2022 #au-gust 2022 #hannigram au #monster hannibal #human will #science fantasy

[chocolate-teapots]

How I Met Your Daughter: Jeon Jungkook

                                 ●╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮●

                               How on earth were you gonna explain 

                                 you met your fiancé while shagging?

                                  ●╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯●

Warnings: awkwardness, excessive alcohol consumption, drunk reader, drunk characters, swearing because it’s me, shirtless JK, fucking against a door, public humiliation, caught fucking. 

This was heaven.

I was sat in the middle of happy noise surrounded by my best friends, family, Jungkook's family and of course Jungkook himself. We were celebrating our engagement with a barbeque, a lot of drinks, laughter and a very long table. Despite the distance as he sat in front of me, the table and noise didn't stop Jungkook from catching my gaze as he eyed me, playing with his lip or the stem of his wine glass.

Just when I think he can't get any more beautiful.

"So, you never really told us how you both met," my mother hummed a few chairs over, bringing the giggling and conversations to a complete stop.

My world came crashing down and I look to my fiancé in a panic, gulping everything I had. As expected, he did nothing but smirk over the rim of his wine glass as he took a generous gulp too. Our friends were also useless, snickering at the questions hanging in the air as the only people who knew the truth.

Taehyung nearly choked on his food, Hoseok nearly fell off his chair and Jin's weird window wiping laugh didn't help either.

"Uh..." I blush, wondering where to begin.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"I'm just saying The Princess and The Frog doesn't get the love it deserves!"

I was drunk in case you couldn't tell.

Tipsy I don't think was the word considering I was having a conversation with no one in particular in the boy's dorm room.

"Yeah right you just want that frog dick," Jin argued, taking time away from the precious game of Monopoly unfolding in front of us between him and Namjoon just to joke around with me.

"Shut the fuck up," I slurred, throwing a pillow at him which he smacked back in my direction with another stupid laugh.

Jin was a really good friend of mine and I had only recently started getting to know his group of friends and then his group and my group merged until we were big enough to throw a party together. A lot of people showed up, danced, drank, threw up, fucked but hadn't left yet. The night was young.

I didn't know them all yet but the ones I did were awesome and handsome as hell.

Most of us currently were squished on the couch, my back was against Hoseok's chest and my roommate Gina's blonde head was on my lap, watching the tense game despite the thumping beats in our ears. Namjoon was winning, making the whole thing even funnier as Jin desperately tried to claim his first win of the night, out of four games total.

That was until he glanced at his pinging phone, rolling his eyes at the millions of messages and missed calls lighting up his screen.

"Jungkook locked himself in the bathroom again," he muttered glancing agonisingly between the desperate messages of his friend and the final 5 minutes of the game until something lit up his drowsy face. "Y/N can you go? It's just my roommate."

Hoseok shifted and so did Namjoon, trying to hide their smiles but they really didn't have to bother. I didn't even notice the smirks, the mutters or the shift in the mood because my ears were drowning in beer and shots.

"No problem champ," I got up with a tumble, smirking at Jin's inevitable loss "You just focus on losing alright?"

"You're an asshole," he shouts to me as I begin the climb the stairs.

"Get a new lock!"

"A new roommate more like."

I'm still giggling as I reach the top of the stairs, trying my best to avoid the people making out in the dark hallway and the weird ones doing naked press-ups or trying to steal underwear out of the boy's rooms.

Yeah, I'm not kidding.

My mind was a little fuzzy like those kids books with fabrics and pictures. My feet were dragging, knees trembling which made the scene behind the bathroom door a lot harder to digest.

I almost fell into the room- well not almost...

I fell into the room, not even trying to ignore the chiselled shirtless guy in front of me trying to scrub a beer stain out of his shirt. His arms popped with the force and his abs were tense but when he turned to me in shock he looked so innocent.

I swallow trying to explain myself and continue to gawk. Jin's roommate seemed to like it, his eyes turning less innocent and bright and darkening with the mood. He smirked walking my way, making me run until my back hit the door.

The closed door.

"Leave it," he mumbles, taking me in just as I was minutes ago but now he had a front-row view.

Things progressed and...

"Fuck just like that!"

It was fine, I tried to rationalise. I hardly ever did this and I deserved it. If a guy as hot as this Jungkook guy showed even the slightest interest in you, would you seriously turn him down?

I didn't think so.

If he wasn't thinking about kissing me before he sure was now as I ruined his lips, kissing him needily. We started like normal kids in a college party, messy and needy but then his hands grazed my ass and lifted my by my thighs, pushing his entire body into me against the door, fucking me with urgency.

I moan as our tongues meet, roughly trying to feel as much of each other as possible. I couldn't think, I just did. I didn't want to think not just because it hurt my head but because I wanted to be 100% at this moment and nowhere else. The feeling of his teeth nipping at my neck as his hips worked into me brought more pleasure than thinking ever did.

"I'm Jungkook by the way," he breathed against my neck, talking casually while pounding into me so hard into the door I almost went through it.

"Y/N," I chuckle, addicted to him and the way he felt inside me.

"Good," he stopped moving, looking into my eyes with his reddened sultry ones "Now you know what to scream."

Wait-

I didn't have a chance to think before he doubled his pace and depth at the same time, squeezing my neck and ass for support as he grunted into me. His hair hung in front of his eyes, losing himself to my clenching and the nails digging into his back.

There was no describing the feeling, not with sentences. Just-

"So good," I gasped spoon-feeding his ego until he was not only drilling my insides but reaching down to my clit and leaning into my ear.

"I'm never letting you leave this room," Jungkook groans biting my ear as he sends me over the edge.

As if just looking at him wasn't enough.

I was too gone, too lost to hear anything but his heavenly whines against my ear or the sounds of skin hitting each other. That's why, when the door unlocked and swung open we didn't have time to stop or pull apart even if we weren't completely drunk right now.

The thing supporting us both disappeared and we realised our falling backwards after there was anything we could do about it. He put his hands out trying to protect us both but  I still fell onto my back with a groan, him crushing my chest and still inside of me as I wince in pain.

"Ah, I see you two have met."

I look up in embarrassment to see all of our friends standing smugly and chuckling between themselves, Jin holding the door open triumphantly as if he'd just won the lottery.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

So.

It wasn't a surprise that it took so long to find a way to tell our parents that our friends caught us fucking in the middle of a party or that we got to know each other after that party.

"So, you never really told us how you both met."

I didn't want to say.

"Class."

"Work."

And neither did he.

#bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook imagine #jjk #kim seokjin #hoseok