#this is genuine by the way i am struggling to muster enough of a shit anymore to work on any of the fic ideas i was excited for

[nautilusopus]

like if i'm in a community that would probably be satisfied if i procedurally generated all my fics and who aren't really fussed if there isn't a coherent plot or theme or characterisation given how everyone is fawning over the remake and ever crisis because two cardboard cutouts stood next to each other, why even fucking bother writing stories for this community at all

#this is genuine by the way i am struggling to muster enough of a shit anymore to work on any of the fic ideas i was excited for #given the fandom is content to guzzle slop #anyone can make slop for you and it sure as shit won't be me #squid alienates vii fans

[filmtv2022]

By Your Side: Chapter Seventeen (18+ Minor DNI) 

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Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader 

Chapter Summary: Rhett finds himself struggling with the distance that seems to stand between what he wants and what feels is possible given the circumstances. While Y/N finds herself thinking about the past and the day that marked the beginning of the end for her and her family. Rhett and Y/N find their way back to each other, even if it is only temporarily. 

Summary: Returning to Wabang was never something that Y/N had planned on, but with the loss of her father leaving her the sole owner of her family’s farm she must go back. Time spent at home forces Y/N to face the people she left behind. Will Y/N be able to navigate the murky waters of her past and present as the lines between them blur? 

Warnings: mentions of illness + steamy/spicy (kind of smutty scene) + language 

A/N: First up, the italicized section is a flashback memory. Gosh, yet again, I had myself feeling all sorts of things with this chapter. And on top of that, I am genuinely terrified for the next couple of parts of the story. Here's to a good moment before things get difficult again.

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Rhett’s voice cracked as he finished reading the letter. Reaching out, he enveloped you as he saw your body start to give way under the immense emotional weight you were carrying. Securing you in the safety of his arms, he held your head to his chest as you cried, the rough fabric of his coat collecting your tears as he tried to still your shaking. Burying his nose in your hair, his lips brushed the crown of your head as he pressed you closer to him. The letter was still held in his hand while he stood guard as your protector. Holding you like this brought back memories for Rhett that he’d tried so hard to forget in the intervening years. 

By the time you’d collected yourself enough to breathe normally the rest of the people who’d attended Trevor’s funeral had cleared out of the cemetery. The wind whipping through the dead foliage was the only sound to be heard. Catching up with yourself, you pulled back and wiped your tears with the heel of your hand. Rhett’s hands adjusted position so that they were resting on your waist and your cheek, the pressure gentle, but firm as he wasn’t ready for this moment to pass. Your palms landed on his chest as his head dipped down, his warm breath drifted over your face as he mustered up the courage to speak. 

“I shouldn’t have let you say that you were with me that night. I... I froze. And what I said to Joy about the phone calls and James… that never should’ve happened. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

Your face turned up to meet his, your lips ghosting over his as you took in his apology. Having him close like this clouded your brain, and it made it easier somehow to forget the reality of the situation. But the longer you resisted, the faster the truth of everything came crashing back. 

“Rhett, I love you, but this shit you’re wrapped up in with your family, I can’t get caught in it too. Not if it means…” Your words got caught in your throat, the thought of saying your fear out loud too much to handle, “I just can’t, I’m sorry.”

“I know.” 

Tearing yourself from his arms, you walked away as calmly as you could. But no matter the distance and circumstance you could feel the connection between you two. Rhett’s eyes never left you, his focus staying on you until he could no longer see the truck. Folding the letter in his hand, he shoved it into a pocket before taking off to join his family at the gathering. 

…………………………..

Not in the mood, and truly done with playing pretend around people he simply didn’t give a shit about, Rhett stayed only long enough to say he’d gone. Storming back to his truck, he tore out of the lot and headed back to the Abbott ranch. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he found himself reflecting on you. His feelings for you hadn’t dimmed, it had always been you… it would always be you. And yet here he was losing you again. Sniffing sharply to clear the tears, he leaned over to the glove box and reached inside. Hesitantly, he took out the box, opening up and removing the smaller container. Running his fingers over the outside, he flipped it open, the ring glistened in the light coming through the windshield. 

Climbing out of the truck he tucked the ring box into the hidden pocket of his jacket, there he could feel its hard outline on his chest above his heart. He knew it wouldn’t be long before his family was home, and he didn’t have the strength to face them again tonight… not without you. Climbing up the stairs to the second floor, Rhett made his way to his bedroom, locking the door behind him to ensure he wouldn’t have to deal with any unwelcome intrusions. 

………………………..

The next morning started with an unwanted wake-up call. Insistent pounding on his door forced Rhett out of bed. Groggy from sleep, he made his way over to investigate who was behind the nose. Undoing the lock, he ripped open his bedroom door only to find his brother standing on the other side. 

“What the hell do you want, Per?”

“Dad says we’ve gotta get goin’ on replacing those boards on the holding pens.” 

“I thought the two of you were gonna do it.”

“Yeah, well… he... he changed his mind I guess.”

“Fine, I’ll be down in a minute.” 

Shutting the door in Perry’s face, he quickly turned to get ready. Before long he found himself working in uncomfortable silence with his brother, the thwack of hammers hitting wood making up for the lack of conversation. He could tell by the way Perry kept glancing over at him that he wanted to say something, but was at a loss for how to begin. Rhett prayed that Perry would just keep his mouth shut because there wasn’t a single thing he could say at this point that would actually make things better. But as always, Rhett’s prayers went ignored as Perry finally mustered the gumption to speak.

“Hey, the other night with Joy, I should’ve figured somethin’ different to tell her. I fucked up, sorry.” 

Maybe it was the nonchalant way in which Perry spoke, but something about his words sent anger flashing through Rhett. 

“Well, I fucked up, too, didn’t I?” 

“How’s that?”

“I was dumb enough to help you in the first place. And now… I’m gonna lose Y/N all over again because of it.” 

Slamming the crowbar in between the boards, Rhett tried his best to release his anger but found that it just kept growing as Perry continued to talk. 

“Hey. There’s no way I’m gonna let you go down for this, and you’re not gonna lose Y/N. Okay?” 

Wrenching the crowbar out of its spot, Rhett stepped away from his brother, tearing the rotted board away from the posts before letting it drop to the ground. There was nothing more to be said, at least not at that moment. Falling quiet again, Rhett returned to his work. Perry caught on to the shift this time and made the wise decision to keep his mouth shut. 

…………………………

The day after the funeral you found yourself trying anything to keep your mind off of Rhett. Moving from room to room you assessed what remained of your parent’s stuff, taking note of what you’d need to take care of before leaving, and what could be sold with the house. Having finished with the main rooms, you decided it was time for a break. Heading outside, you stood at the edge of the porch, and inhaled deeply, listening to the wind chimes tinkle lightly in the breeze. Letting your eyelids shut, you tipped your face to the sky basking in the freedom of the open air. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d stood on the porch, but the wind picking up forced you back inside where you wandered into the living room. Easing yourself down onto the couch, you picked up the photo album you had placed there earlier during your survey of the house. You’d flipped through many of the others before placing them into a plastic tote that would be easy to take with you when you were finally ready to leave. But this one, you hadn’t yet been able to bring yourself to open. Smoothing your hand over the cover, the fabric felt soft under your touch. Resting it on your lap, you cast your eyes across the room to your father’s chair. If you closed your eyes you could almost hear him sitting there grumbling at the TV as the football game played, and in the background, your mom’s beautiful voice followed melodically along with the lyrics to some country song as she cooked in the kitchen. 

Fiddling with the edge of the album, you sat staring blankly around the room, memories from the past filling your mind. Time continued to move by as you were lost in thoughts of days gone by. Cracking open the book you thumbed through the pages, hovering over each as if by touching it you could travel back to that very moment. You were surprised with how well you were holding up as you continued to reminisce, but that steadiness came to end when flipped to the next page. There it was, the picture that’d kept you from doing this earlier.  

Caressing the bubbled tape that held the corners of the photo down, a lump formed in the back of your throat as you fought against the memory. The image before you marked what would become the tipping point of devastating change for your family. Taken the day your mother delivered the truth about her illness, the juxtaposition of the smiles gracing your faces and the reality that would be handed down just hours later was crushing to think about. There you were after your latest rodeo win, your mother’s arm resting on your shoulders as the two of you grinned for the camera. And there was Rhett, on your other side, mirroring your pose. Closing your eyes, you returned to that day for the first time in many years. 

The announcer’s voice echoed through the crowd as you and Rhett stood posing for a picture with your mothers. It had been a successful day for the both of you, and on any other day, it would be time to celebrate. Breaking free from the camera’s gaze, you turned to your mom in the hope of begging for permission to spend the rest of the day with Rhett and the rest of the Abbott family. You could feel that Rhett was no longer lingering behind you as you posed the question to your mother. 

“Hey, momma, do you think it’d be okay if I went with Rhett and his family this afternoon? I promise I’ll be home by curfew this time.”

You noticed the look that flashed between your mother and father who had been behind the camera just moments ago. Looking back at your dad you waited for him to speak as it quickly became clear that your mom was not going to answer. 

“So, can I go?” 

“Ummm, actually Y/N. We…uhh” Clearing his throat to cover the thick sadness in his voice, “We need to have some family time tonight.” 

Normally, this would have been a time of protest for your teenage self, but something in your father’s eyes told you that this was not the time for such antics. Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention for a second, it was Rhett and Ceci standing away from you and your family. Their body language was enough to tell you they were also having what appeared to be a serious conversation. 

“Okay. Can I just talk to Rhett for a second?” 

“Sure sweetie, just meet us at the truck.” 

Making your way to Rhett, you saw your parents start the trek back to the parking lot. Your father’s grip on your mom steadied her on the uneven ground. Ceci’s attention snapped to you as you got closer, there was a sorrow in her eyes that terrified you, but now didn’t feel like the time to ask about it. Giving her son a brief hug she excused herself so that the two of you could have a moment together. 

“Hey, so my parents said no to going out to dinner.”

“I figured... we can go another time.”

You’d rarely seen Rhett look like this before, worry etched over every feature. His shoulders slumped as his hands found a home on your body. Raking down your side with one hand, his fingers dug into your hip as the other slipped into your hair. 

“Everythin’ okay?” 

“Yeah. Just call me later, all right?” 

“Sure.” 

You’d barely finished speaking when his lips crashed with yours, the kiss needy in a way you’d never experienced from him. It was as if he was trying to console you with his touch, but you had no idea what could be bringing this on. Breaking apart, his forehead fell to yours as you both collected yourselves. 

“You probably better go catch up with your family.”

“Probably.” 

With that, Rhett pulled back, his stunningly blue eyes catching yours for a moment before he turned away to rejoin his parents. You observed him closely as he walked away, the pit growing in your stomach blooming as you saw his mother embrace him yet again. 

The trip back to your dad’s truck was slow as several people stopped you along the way to offer their congratulations, but eventually, you did make it back. The mood on the ride back to the house was subdued, neither of your parents uttered a single word. 

Now back at home, the sky grew dark with impending rain as the distant sound of rolling thunder rumbled through the air. Your parents moved like ghosts into the house, your worry turning to frustration as they seemed to be avoiding something.

Standing in the kitchen as your mom began to pull out the items for that night’s dinner and your dad sat at the table drinking a beer, you lost it. 

“Is somebody gonna tell me what’s going on? And don’t try to say that nothing’s up because that’s bullshit and you know it!”

“Y/N, watch your language.” Your focus was honed in on your dad as he called you out for the way you were acting, “You will not speak that way in this house young lady.” 

“Then tell me what’s going on!” You pleaded desperately. 

“Y/N, please sweetie, have seat.” 

Your mother’s calm voice halted your anger in its tracks. Her gentle hands guided you down into a seat at the table before moving to sit next to your father, his hand reaching for hers as she sat. Fidgeting in your chair you waited impatiently for either one of them to open up, but it was your mom who finally found the courage. 

“There’s no easy way to say this… the treatments, they’ve stopped working.”

“No, no. That can’t… you said you were feeling better… the doctor said…” You stuttered indignantly toward your mother. 

“I know honey, but-”

Your movement cut her off. Seeing the panic start to roll in, she stood from her seat and started to make her way to you, her arms extended to embrace you. The room closed in around you as your lungs struggled to take in air. The pressure of your mother’s hug should have soothed you, but instead, it sent you reeling. You needed out, if you stayed there you were sure that the walls were going to crush you. Stumbling back from the table, you hurled yourself toward the door, snatching the keys to your father’s truck from the counter on your way out. Throwing the door open, you sprinted away from the house, the rain soaking you to the bone in seconds. Clambering into the cab, you wrenched the keys in the ignition and took off. 

There was only one place you wanted to be right now, and that was with Rhett. Parking in your spot, you pushed your way through the weather once more toward the Abbott home, the lights on the porch glaring bright in the darkness. Inside, Rhett saw you pulling in from where he was standing in the kitchen. He knew exactly why you were here, and he was scared. Scared for you, for your mother and father, and himself because he didn’t know if he had the strength to carry you through what was to come. Dropping the soapy dish in his hand back under the water, he stormed his way to the front of the house and tore open the door just in time to catch you in his arms. Your body weight slammed against him hard, throwing him off balance for a second. Righting himself, he fixed his grip on you. Holding onto his shirt, your voice was unsteady as you tried to vocalize the cause of your anguish. There were no tears, just pain. 

“My mom…” You couldn’t finish, but that didn’t matter.

“I know, Y/N… I know.” 

A deafening boom of thunder rattled the windows in their panes and broke you from your thoughts. You weren’t sure when the storm had rolled in, but it didn’t matter as you had no plans of leaving the house. Picking yourself up from the couch, you sat the album down next to where you’d been sitting before heading to the kitchen for some food. Passing by the front door you halted in your tracks as the sound of loud knocking hit your ears. Taking a few more steps, you looked out to find Rhett’s truck obscured by the heavy sheets of rain that were pouring down. 

For just a brief second you hesitated, unsure if you had the emotional capacity to deal with seeing Rhett, but something in your gut told you to answer the door. Slowly, you opened it, exposing yourself to the harsh wind and blowing rain, and there he was looking like a disheveled mess, his clothes stuck to his body from the elements. Coherent thoughts illuded you at the sight of him standing before you looking wrecked and wild.

“Rhett, what are you doing-” 

You didn’t have time to think as he crashed into you, his strong frame flush with your body as his hands roamed over your curves. He sighed into your mouth as he begged for more which you willingly gave. The taste of tobacco and beer on his tongue. You felt him shove the door shut with his foot before turning you around and pushing you against it. Sliding your hands up his chest, you tugged at the shoulders of his jacket, urging him to take it off. Understanding what you wanted, he shrugged off the jacket and tossed it to the side. The dampness of his clothes began to soak through yours as he pressed himself back into you and kissed down your neck. 

The warmth of your fingertips on his skin as you rucked up the hem of his shirt sent shivers down his spine. A groan vibrated through his chest as he felt you skimming along his abs. Shifting your weight forward, you pushed away from the door and headed toward your room. Rhett followed swiftly, the flashing of lightning leading the way across the house. 

Standing just inside your room, the feeling palpably shifted. The desperation from before was masked by the raw emotion that flowed through you both. The crackling light coming in through the window highlighted the heaving of Rhett’s chest as he stood before you. Looking up into his eyes, you leaned into his palm as it came to tenderly hold your cheek. Grasping the hem of your t-shirt you pulled it over your head before pawing at his, encouraging him to take it off. Reaching up behind his head, Rhett peeled the shirt from his wet skin, the weight of the fabric causing a light thump as it hit the floor. Reverently, the two of you removed the remaining barriers between yourselves. Closing your eyes, you gave into his touch.

Sliding his hands down your body, he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you. Wrapping your legs around his waist you relaxed into him as he laid you back onto the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he propped himself on top of you. Brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into his face, you burrowed your hand into his hair, gently bringing his lips to yours. 

The rest of the world fell away as the two of you devoured each other. Needy gasps and moans filled the space and took the place of words to communicate the depth of what you felt for each other. Tears welled in your eyes as Rhett brought you over the edge, pleasure mixing with the overwhelming wholeness you felt in his arms. For Rhett, he lost himself in the feeling of you. It was too much feeling you everywhere all at once, and yet it wasn’t enough. Being with you like this reaffirmed just how sincerely he needed by his side, not just now, but always. 

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@lostinthefandoms11

@hope-love-equality2

@eugene-emt-roe

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott #outer range #lewis pullman #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott smut

[aslitheryprinx]

can we get a part 2 to the smolbois inc story? What happens next to Tommy?

Sure!

Sorry this is so long; I haven't figured out how to add the read more section, and I kept thinking of more I wanted to add.

TW for a panic attack!

Rising Tensions part 2

How was he going to get out of this one?

When in doubt, Tommy thought, bluff your way out.

"And how do you know it wasn't a mouse?" He asked, acting offended. The giants exchanged a look.

"It's fucking rude to accuse someone you just met of stealing, did you know that? You're being rude right now," he said.

"You were sneaking around our house," Tubbo pointed out. Tommy puffed himself up, glaring at the giant with all the indignation he could muster.

"And did you consider that I'm lost, big man? Maybe I just wandered into your house by accident. Now you've accused me of sneaking and stealing." Ranboo raised an eyebrow.

"You came out of the walls," the taller giant said.

"Well… well," Tommy stammered, trying to come up with an excuse, "well, that's how I accidentally wandered in! We found these caves and found these caves, and they were all twisty and shit and we got lost and then ended up here." He realized his mistake and tried to backtrack. "I mean I got lost-"

"We? There are more of you?" Tubbo asked eagerly. Tommy felt a shiver of unease. Wasn't Tubbo some sort of scientist? Anything that made him sound that excited worried him. Besides he wasn't going to sell out his family just because the giant noticed his fuck up.

"It was just a slip of the tongue, man, fuck off!" He snapped.

"It sounds more like a slip up that you didn't want us knowing about. And you said 'we' twice," Tubbo argued, seeing right through his bullshit. Tommy stiffened. Why was he so bad at lying? Was Tubbo going to try and lure his family out now?

"Why are you trying to hide that there's more of you? Are you some sort of secret agent? Probably not, you're shit at lying. Maybe you're hiding someone important like a prince or government official! Or you're part of a traveling circus!" Tubbo rambled.

"There's not more of me, you dick!"

Tommy was having trouble staying calm. He'd been too busy trying to bullshit his way out of trouble that he hadn't focused on the situation he was actually in. What was going to happen to him? What would the giants do to him? If they caught his family, what would they do to them?

"Are you going to fucking let me go, now?" He snapped, only a tiny bit of the nervousness he felt creeping into his voice.

"Sure," Ranboo said.

"No," Tubbo said at the same time. Tommy's heart dropped.

"What do you mean no," Ranboo asked, sounding confused.

"I still have more questions! He can't go yet!" The smaller giant whined. So he wanted to keep Tommy here? Like a prisoner- or worse, a fucking pet. Breathing suddenly seemed really hard to Tommy.

"Like what?" Ranboo asked. Tubbo's eyes shone with excitement as he started to list off questions.

"Like where he's been living this whole time- I don't buy the mouse thing, I think it's been him and whoever else the whole time. It explains why there was no mouse shit. Also why is he here in the first place? And I wanna know about humans! What do they even eat? Is it the same as giants or something else? Where do humans even live? And how do they-"

"Tubbo! Tubbo, stop for a second," Ranboo interrupted, and Tubbo's rambling about human came to a halt. Ranboo was peering down at Tommy, the same concerned expression on his face.

"His… his heart is beating really fast," Ranboo said. Huh. Tommy hadn't really noticed, but it was pretty fast. It was kind of loud and uncomfortable now that he was paying attention.

"Oh, shit," Tubbo exclaimed. Then he was leaning down, peering at Tommy with wide eyes. A finger reached out and he flinched, but it never touched him. Ranboo had pulled him back away from Tubbo.

"Stop poking at him," the giant said, annoyed.

"I'm just trying to see if he's sick or something!" Tubbo protested.

"He's probably having a panic attack! I think we scared him," Ranboo said.

Panic attack? Wilbur and Techno both got those sometimes. He'd never had one, but hey, maybe it was genetics or some shit.

His vision went a little blurry, and he tried to breathe. It felt like something was sitting on his chest. Why was it so hard to breathe? He thought panic attacks just made you breathe really fast, not make you suffocate!

"Woah, woah! You've gotta breathe… um… human," Ranboo said awkwardly.

"Human?" Tubbo repeated, sounding unimpressed.

Tommy was trying so hard to breathe in. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, none of his breaths were doing anything. He inhaled again, and there was a slight wheeze.

"I forgot to ask his name earlier!"

"What the hell man?"

"Hey, um, what is your name?"

…

Oh god, they were talking to him.

In between the struggling breaths, Tommy tried to focus on actually listening to what was going on rather than just let the noises pass over him.

"W-what?" He asked, hating how shaky his voice sounded. He blamed it on the lack of oxygen. He was ignoring his pounding heart and shaky hands.

"Your name?" Tubbo prompted.

"T-Tommy," he managed to force out between panicked breaths.

"Ok, Tommy can you try to breathe s-" Ranboo started.

"'m fucking trying to breathe!" Tommy gasped out. He meant to sound pissed, but his voice sounded weak and shaky. He hated it.

"Slowly," Ranboo said gently. "try to breathe slower."

Tommy gave him a doubtful look.

"It'll help, I promise," Ranboo said. "I get panic attacks a lot, it really does help."

Tommy tried. He did. But he kept freaking out, thinking if he didn't keep inhaling he'd just run out of air. Some part of him recognized that breathing slowly should help, but he just couldn't quite manage to do it.

"You've got this, boss man," Tubbo said softly. "Just keep trying."

He kept trying. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he managed to force himself to take longer to breathe. It did help.

"You're doing great," Ranboo encouraged.

"Yeah! Kick it's ass!" Tubbo cheered. Tommy managed a strangled sounding laugh.

It took several painful minutes, but Tommy managed to start breathing normally again. He had a headache, but he kind of thought he'd gotten off easy. He'd seen some of Wil and Techno's attacks and they could last for hours.

Now that he understood what it really felt like, he felt a sense of horror that they had to deal with this so often, and a sense of pride that his brothers were strong enough to fight them off and keep enjoying their lives. He thinks he would hate existence if this happened to him multiple times a month.

"I'm really sorry for scaring you, Tommy," Tubbo said. Tommy was still a little nervous about what the giants wanted from him, but Tubbo seemed so genuine. It was hard to believe they wanted to hurt him when they both seemed so concerned. And they'd been really gentle so far. So maybe… maybe his fears were unfounded and he was just being a little bitch.

"As long as you're not keeping me here forever, it's fine," he said. Well, he had to make sure. Just in case. Tubbo made a face.

"What like a prisoner? That would be fucking weird, boss man. We're not doing that."

"You can leave whenever you want," Ranboo told him. "Tubbo was just being nosy earlier."

"I am not nosy!" Tubbo protested. Ranboo rolled his eyes but kept his focus on Tommy.

"Can… can I go now?" Tommy asked, putting Ranboo's statement to the test. He may have decided that the giants wouldn't hurt him, but he was still overwhelmed and ready to go home. He was exhausted from the panic attack.

"Of course," Ranboo said. He paused, and Tommy fidgeted nervously as he made no move to set him down. "Um… do you want me to set you down here or take you back to where you were earlier?"

Ah. It had only been a few quick steps for Ranboo, but it would probably take Tommy forever to get back there on his own.

"If you wouldn't mind giving me a ride, big man," he said, trying to sound causal. Ranboo grinned.

"RanUber coming up," he said.

"Why not RanbUber?- Wait."

"Oh no," Ranboo muttered as he walked across the room. Tommy felt a grin growing on his face.

"RanBOOB!" He shouted.

"Oh, wow, never heard that one before," Ranboo grumbled. "I'm putting you down now."

He lowered his hand, and Tommy hopped off onto the ground. He was a little wobbly for a second, which was weird. Maybe it was kind of like being on a boat for a while, and he had to get readjusted to solid ground.

Once he got his balance back, he started to walk towards the tiny cave entrance. He stopped when Tubbo called out.

"Wait!" Tommy tensed slightly, wondering if Tubbo was changing his mind about letting him leave. But Tubbo just sat down next to where Ranboo had crouched.

"Will you come back and talk to us sometime?" He asked. Tommy hesitated. One the one hand, the giants were kind of fun to talk to, and they had been really nice. On the other hand, they'd also been pretty scary and he wasn't entirely sure he trusted them yet.

"Maybe," he settled on. "No promises." Tubbo looked a little disappointed.

"Alright. I hope you will. Bye, Tommy."

"Bye Tommy," Ranboo echoed.

Tommy gave them one last look before he ducked back into the smaller caves. He walked towards the cave where he and his family had been living. He'd only been walking for a few minutes when he was almost bowled over by Wilbur, who was barreling around the corner like a madman. He'd barely registered who it was when he was pulled into a crushing hug.

"Ack! Wil you're squishing me!" He whined.

"Where were you? I couldn't find you anywhere, Tommy I was so worried-"

"Wil, calm down. I was just in a cave that's kind of away from the others. I… I can show you later," he offered a little reluctantly. He hadn't actually gone to the cave he meant to sulk in, but he still kind of wanted to keep it to himself.

"You- it's fine, you don't have to. Just… are you ok? You kind of look like shit." Wilbur had gone full mother hen mode, fussing over him like he was still a baby. The motherfucker was even fixing his hair. And people thought Phil was the overprotective one.

"I'm fine," he said. Wilbur didn't look convinced.

"I'm fine now," he amended. He added quietly, "I uh… I kind of had a panic attack." Wilbur clutched him tighter. God this bitch was clingy when he was upset. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to complain though. The hug felt kind of nice.

"Toms, I'm so fucking sorry," Wilbur said.

"Huh?" What was he talking about?

"About what I said earlier." Oh shit, Tommy had forgotten all about the fight. A little bit of guilt churned in his stomach.

"I should not have said that. I was just pissed, and being a dick, and wanted to say something to make you feel bad. But it was such a stupid thing to say."

"Why, because it's true?" Tommy muttered glumly.

"No, because it's a fucking lie, Tommy, and I never should have said it," Wilbur said fiercely.

"But-"

"You didn't know," Wilbur cut him off. "It's not your fault anymore than it is my fault for jumping down after you when you fell, or Techno's for getting us lost, or Phil's for taking us camping to begin with. Not your fault. Alright?"

"Alright, Wil," Tommy muttered. He was still being held hostage by Wilbur's clingy octopus impression. He really had been worried. It was a good thing that Tubbo and Ranboo weren't all that bad, or who knows how freaked out Wil would've gotten.

It occurred to Tommy that he should probably tell his family that he talked to the giants. That they knew Tommy was there, and knew others were with him. It seemed like something important. But… he kind of wanted to talk to them again. He didn't think Wil would let him go if he found out, let alone his actual father.

So he just… didn't say anything. They didn't need to know. If it ever came up, well… he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Part one

#mcyt g/t #mcyt giant/tiny #smolbois inc au #tiny!sbi #tiny!tommy #giant!tubbo #giant!beeduo #giant!ranboo #g/t #giant/tiny #dsmp g/t #aslitheryanswers #long post #tw panic attack #tiny!wilbur

[honeybunnybeez]

How they react to the Dog Hand meme

♡Genre: Pure nonsensical fluff

♡Reader is Gender Neutral!

♡Member(s) involved: c!Dream, c!George, c!Sapnap, c!Karl, c!Quackity, c!Bad

♡Format: Headcanon(?)

It never gets old watching your wolf practically sprint towards you the moment you open your hand in front of it. It never hesitates to rest its chin in your palm, wagging it’s tail happily and looking at you with adoring loyal eyes while it does so.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing in the whole wide world?" You coo as you nuzzle your cheek against its soft fluffy head. It barks happily as if to agree with your statement, earning it a few kisses and head pats before it goes on with its merry way to do god knows what before you call for its name again.

"You ever going to stop babying them?" Your boyfriend asks as he sits on the edge of your bed, a little jealous that your wolf gets so much more attention when he's literally sitting in the same room.

"Never in a million years, they're essentially my child now," you laugh as he huffs and rolls his eyes, still a little pouty from your previous actions. You swear to whatever higher power exists in the world that your boyfriend acts exactly like a spoiled puppy whenever he sees you playing with your wolf.

Wait, that actually gives you an idea.

"Hey," he watches as you outstretch your hand in front of him like you did with your wolf with the biggest grin forming on your face, "do the thing!"

c!Dream:

He can't help but laugh a little at how excited you look. Seriously, he thought you were pretty darn cute when you were playing with your wolf before, but now this? You're going to make his heart explode one day with how adorable you are.

"I'm not as cute as your little wolf though," he teases.

"Maybe not but hey, you can at least try, can't you?"

Even though he rolls his eyes at your words, he still walks up to you and lean down to rest his chin in your palm, giving you a lazy smirk as he does so. He laughs a bit when he sees you tensing up, genuinely not expecting him to go along with your little joke.

"So, am I cute enough for you?"

A kiss placed on the tip of his nose has you turning the tables on him and now he's the one growing flustered, pale face dusting with a little bit of red at the innocent affection.

"There, NOW you're cute."

c!George:

"No."

"Oh, c'mon George!"

"No, (y/n)," he looks at you with an amused look when you whine out his name once more, staring at him with the best puppy eyes you can muster. Thankfully, after being friends with a few other people who can pull off impressive puppy eyes, he's gotten fairly immune to them by now.

"I'm not budging and that's final," you sigh and drop you hand to your side, pouting a little at being denied your fun.

Before you can react and exit the room defeated, a pair of hands cup your cheek out of the blue, shocking and flustering you.

"H-Hey, that wasn't the plan-!”

"No, but you didn't say I couldn't do it to you, now did you?" He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, chuckling as you scrunch your face up a bit in mock disgust.

"Argh, I hate you."

“Aw, I love you too, sweetheart."

c!Sapnap:

Sapnap has to catch you from falling because of how quickly he surprised you by practically hopping off the bed. He giggles as he holds you in his arm in what seems to be a dip, he was always a sucker for cheesy things like these.

"Holy shit, Sapnap," you can't help but gasp out, clinging onto him as your heart beats rapidly from your close fall. "Lord, I thought I was going to die-"

"You okay there, babe?" You nod in response to his question and stand up properly with his help. After a few seconds of calming yourself down, you outstretch your hand again and Sapnap wastes absolutely no time in resting his chin in your palm just like your wolf. You think that if you believed hard enough, you may just see a pair of ears and tail appear on him as well.

"You really live up to your pet name, don't you, puppy?" You can't help but tease.

"Mhmm, and this puppy really wants you to kiss and pet him now."

"What're the magic words Sapnap?"

"Uh... I love you?"

Well, that definitely pulled a snort of out you.

"Alright, fine. You get your kisses you dork."

c!Karl:

He's definitely another one who doesn't hesitate to rush up to you to rest his chin in your palm, giggling and looking at you with the most lovestruck expression as he does so.

"Oh my god, Karl, stop being so cute all the time," your words make his heart feel all fuzzy inside and he can't stop himself from nuzzling into your hand, reveling in your attention

"Not until you give me more kisses than your wolf."

"Hmm, but my lips are feeling a little sore at the moment though," you joke, making him mock a pout back. "Maybe I'll have to take a raincheck on those kisses."

"Fine, then I'll do it myself!" You barely have time to react before you're quickly scooped up into his arms and dragged to bed where he covers your face in kisses, causing the both of you to laugh until your stomachs hurt from the lack of air.

Honestly, if someone asked you to pick between Karl or your wolf over whose cuter, you may actually struggle to answer that question when both of them smother you with love in almost the exact same way.

c!Quackity:

"You gotta say please if you want me to do that, sweet thing," lord, why did you expect Quackity to just go along with it?

"C'mon Quackity, please?"

"You can do better than that!" Lord, you just want to smooch that smirk off his stupidly good looking face.

"Pleaseee...?"

"A little better, (y/n)." Okay, y'know what-

"Quackity, I can hear my wolf tippy tapping in the room next to us, I will literally just walk over to them and give them all your kisses."

Well, that threat definitely got to him- He stumbles and almost falls before resting his chin in your palm. He even grabs you wrist just for safe measures to ensure you aren't going to leave him for your wolf.

"I thought I get kisses with this thing as well?" Quackity whines, nudging your hand with his cheek as if to get you to kiss him quicker.

"You gotta be cuter if you want kisses, lover boy."

"Aren't I already cute anough?"

You open your mouth to argue but nothing really comes out, making Quackity giggle at your silence. You sigh and reward him with the kisses he wanted, much to his delight.

"Admit it, I'm definitely cuter than your wolf.”

"Doesn't automatically make you my favourite between the two of you though."

"(Y/n)!"

c!Badboyhalo:

He tilts his head like an actual puppy as he stares at your hand, a little confused as to what you want him to do. He's totally lost please help this demon out.

"Do you want to rest your chin in my hand?"

Ah, there's that happy little gasp. He's quick to change to his more appropriate height before resting his chin on your palm, giving you something almost similar to an ‘UwU’ look on his content face.

"Okay, I can see why your puppy really likes doing this."

"Is it comfy?" He nods at your question, sighing in bless when he feels your other hand petting through his jet black hair. As you do so, you can see Bad's tail lift slightly behind him, wagging a little much to your amusement.

"Your tail is wagging Bad!" It doesn't take him long to remove himself from your hand, flustered and gripping onto his tail to stop it from moving anymore. He can't help but make a noise of complaint as he sees you giving him a smug little grin.

"(Y/n), you ruined the moment!"

"I'm sorry, Bad!" But your string of uncontained giggles really showed that you weren't all that sorry, much to Bad's displeasure. He’s so going to get back at you for that by cuddling with your wolf tonight instead of you.

A/N: Hello! I am so sorry for this mess! I had major writer’s block and legit had to look at my old blog for some inspiration- I may be running a little dry nowadays and I’m incredibly sorry for that. Anyways, this was just a quick cute bit, I hope you all enjoyed reading!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #dream smp imagine #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagines #dream smp headcanon

[stardusttrashed]

Lovestruck (Finale)

Part 4

Pairing: Professor Erwin x Fem! Reader, Connie x Sasha

Word Count: 2K

A/N: A huge thanks to everyone who stuck around for this series and showed it some love. also, if you haven't already go check out the playlist I made that gives professor Erwin vibes :)

“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Smith,” you squeaked as you squeezed past the door into the old familiar room. “Hope you didn’t haveta wait too long,” you smiled apologetically.

Erwin turned around, looking up from the whiteboard he was writing away on. He smiled handsomely, quietly sighing in relief, “actually, you’re right on time as usual.” He closed the distance between you before placing a kiss on your forehead. “How much’d you spend? I’ll pay you back,” he reassured you as he led you towards his desk.

“You can pay me back by coming to movie night,” you purred, quickly throwing the idea out there as you took a seat on his desk. You rummaged through the plastic bag, taking out two to-go boxes as Erwin rolled his desk chair over. “You’ve been officially invited by Thing One and Thing Two. And they’ll probably lose their shit if I show up without you.”

“Sasha and Connie, right?” he confirmed. You hummed in response. Erwin tensed up momentarily once he saw you sitting on his desk, sinful thoughts running rampant in his mind. He was curious how much of a good girl you’d be for him. Or if you’d let him eat something else for lunch. It didn’t make it any better that you still had his shirt on. A blush painted his cheeks as he pushed the thoughts down, plopping in his seat and scooting closer until he was sitting between your legs, “I’d love to, darling.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, occasionally broken by strings of giggles as you stuffed your faces with the Chinese food you brought. You took turns feeding spoonfuls of each other's food to the other, goofy, uncontrollable, lovestruck smiles printed on your faces. There was so much you both wanted to say to each other, wanting to ask about the other’s day, or ask trivial things, or address what you were. But neither could muster the courage to break the moment. So instead, you spoke through lingering touches and longing gazes.

“Erwin,” a familiar voice said dryly, followed by the footsteps of them entering the room. “Found your sandwich in the fridge in the staff room.” Erwin’s eyes went wide, more surprised about being caught than the actual sandwich. “Figured I’d bring it before you starve.”

You sent Erwin a playfully threatening glare, “you had food?! I- you little,” you quickly hissed, stopping short as Erwin apologetically squeezed your thigh.

Erwin chuckled embarrassedly, removing the hand on your thigh to scratch the back of his neck. “I must’ve forgot.” He looked back and forth between you and Levi, both of you looking back at him with unconvinced expressions. He was busted for sure.

“Right,” Levi drawled out as his eyes scanned the desk, taking in the to-go boxes and how close you and Erwin were sitting. “At least you’re not starving. And glad to see the two of you finally grew a pair and made things official.”

“W-well,” you stuttered, to no avail. Levi was already walking out of the room, muttering something about how you should at least lock the door. Gradually, your shock shifted into overconfidence. “Missed me that much, huh? Pretty lame excuse if you ask me.”

“Shouldn’t be much of a surprise, darling,” Erwin cooed, his blue eyes practically filled with hearts. It felt like butterflies were coursing throughout his entire body as you leaned down to kiss him. It was short and sweet, just a lingering peck, yet you left him breathless. “Y/n, I- um.” He could feel the tips of his ears growing uncomfortably warm. Your soft giggles weren’t helping either. “Hold on.”

You watched as Erwin struggled to hold onto his cool. It was still weird, no matter how many times you saw him grow flustered. He was the gorgeous giant of a man that left men and women alike flustered, yourself included. Yet, you always seemed to be the one to turn the tables without doing anything but being yourself. He wasn’t some Greek God, okay, well looks-wise, yes. And personality-wise. Okay, maybe he was a Greek god, but that didn’t stop him from being a friendly giant or a big cinnamon roll around you.

“I, uh,” he quickly glanced up at you before returning his focus to the journal he pulled out of his desk drawer. “I got you this,” he held the small journal out to you.

You gingerly took it from him. A thin gold rope chain tucked away in the journal as a bookmark tapped your hand as it swayed from the movement. You prayed he couldn’t see the way your cheeks grew warm as you opened the journal to the page the chain rested against. In the center of the lined paper lay a key strung on the chain. The key wasn’t anything fancy, just a plain house key that covered a neatly written note. You glanced up at Erwin momentarily before moving aside the key to read the note aloud. “I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her, and it is the beginning of everything. F. Scott Fitzgerald,” you read, your throat growing tighter with every word.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing anything,” Erwin quickly spoke up once you finished reading. “I just, well, I figured you could use my place as a place to write and get some inspiration. I don’t want to pressure you, though. This can be completely platonic, and we can ignore-.”

You set the journal aside and stopped his nervous rambling with a kiss. Your lips moved lazily against each other, savoring everything from the moment to the taste of one another. Time seemed to slow as you lost yourself in the softness of his lips and the warmth of his hands on your hips. You could feel him surrendering to you, giving you everything he could until he was left with nothing, not even a breath… until you reluctantly pulled away. You rested your forehead on his, your eyebrows knitted together as you tried to catch your breath enough to say something.

“And for a moment, I thought I loved him,” you breathed, altering the quote slightly to fit the situation more. Your breath fanned across his lips, giving him visible chills as you continued, “but I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires.”

“Committing Great Gatsby quotes to memory, are we,” Erwin teased, his voice husky as he finally managed to catch his breath.

“Only the most beautiful ones that’ll impress my professors, er, used to be professors.”

“Consider the job done then.” Erwin looked at you like you were the only one, not just now, but forever. His ocean eyes shone like he was looking at the sun, and in a way, he was. You always were a star that he couldn’t help but gravitate to. He lost you for a while, but just like the planets orbiting around the sun, he managed to find his way back to your warmth.

You reached out and pushed a stray hair back into place, “not polite to stare, baby. Even if ya look cute doing it.”

“Dance with me,” Erwin blurted. He needed to hold you, to bask in your warmth. He wanted to do what he should’ve last night, holding you close as you swayed to music that could better articulate the feelings he has for you.

“What?”

Erwin chuckled and shrugged, “dance with me, and I’ll stop.” He stood up with a devilish grin on his face. “Just one dance?”

“Erwin, I don’ think this is the place-” you were cut off by Erwin scooping you up into his strong arms bridal style. You held onto him despite feeling utterly safe as he maneuvered his way out of the classroom. “Baby, where are you taking me?” you squealed with childlike giddy.

“To a place we can dance,” Erwin looked down at you with a wicked smile as he walked out of the building with you still cradled close to his chest. The soft drizzle of rain welcomed the both of you, which made you squeal and hurriedly attempt to cover your head.

“Erwin Smith, take me back inside before I kick your ass!”

“No, can do; you said we couldn’t dance in the classroom.” He sent a kind smile to the people passing by. “Besides, as sweet and sugary as you are, you won’t melt.”

“You don’t know that.” You smacked your hand against his chest, “I hate you right now.” The soft drizzle was gradually becoming a steady stream of droplets that made any efforts to protect your hair futile. With a huff, you gave up, allowing the rain to return your hair to its natural state gradually. “Happy now?”

Erwin kissed the tip of your nose before gently setting you back on your feet underneath a large canopy tree. The twinkle of mischief in his eyes was a stark contrast to the soft apologies that tumbled from his mouth. “I promise, messing up your hair was not part of the plan.” His eyes flitted up to your curling hair, a proud smile forming on his face, “I was right, though. You look absolutely amazing, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, hoping it’d distract from the bashful smile tugging on your lips. “One dance,” you held up a finger for emphasis. “That’s it.”

“Just the one,” he gently pressed his lips against yours. “Unless you beg for more.” His laugh rumbled in his chest like quiet thunder as you playfully swatted his arm.

“Well, Mr. DJ, what’re gonna dance to?”

“No idea,” Erwin admitted with a bashful smile, looking up from his phone. “Just wanted an excuse to hold you close.” The soft, familiar strumming of a guitar filled the air before he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

With an outstretched hand, he looked at you with such genuine adoration that for a second, you forgot how to breathe. You slipped your hand into his, allowing him to guide your hands towards his shoulders. It felt silly, dancing in the middle of campus in the rain, and at the same time, it felt so surreal, like you two were straight out of a book.

“Only fools rush in,” Erwin quietly sang as he slid his hands around your hips. “But I can’t help fallin’ in love with you.” He had a smooth, calming singing voice like he was born to be a crooner. He didn’t sing around others often, not sober at least, but something about you made him feel like it was the right thing to do at this moment. Every word that fell from his lips was for you, and you only as you both sway in time with the music. He was yours, and the look in your eyes told him you were his.

You pressed yourself closer to him, the rest of the world slipping away. He was too warm, made you feel too secure for it to be reality. And yet, here he was, the man you secretly fell for years ago was in your arms singing Can’t Help Falling in Love to you. The increasing heaviness of the rain or people staring didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except him.

“I-,” you jumped at the sound of your ringtone, sending you plummeting back to reality with wide eyes. “S-sorry, I gotta,” you trailed off sheepishly as you pulled your phone out of your pocket before accepting the facetime call.

Erwin paused the music for you, trying to stay as quiet as possible as he played with your newly formed curls. It was hard for him to fight back the awestruck look on his face as your hair seemed to grow curlier by the second.

“Did you do it? Please tell me you did? I’ll do it for you,” Sasha bombarded you once you answered. She paused with wide eyes at the sound of Erwin’s amused chuckle. “Oh, my- is that him? Hi, Erwinie!”

“Wait, she did it?” You could hear Connie yell from somewhere offscreen. “Ha! You owe me twenty!”

You smiled apologetically at Erwin, who seemed quite amused with the situation. “Hi, Sasha,” Erwin cut in, laughing at the way she swooned after he said her name. “If we’re being technical, I was the one who did it.”

“Ha! I only owe you ten,” she exclaimed, sending Connie a face before focusing back on you and Erwin. “She invited you to movie night, right?”

“About that, why don’t you two come over to my place? I’ll even cook.”

“Careful before I steal him from you,” Sasha laughed. She was practically drooling already at the thought of free food.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s only one girl for me.” He looked down at you with a confident smile, “she’s all I want and need.”

“What about guys?”

“Ew, you two are so cute it’s gross,” Sasha talked over Connie. “Get off my phone before ya make me sick.”

“Gladly,” you mused, giggles bubbling in your chest. “See y’all later.” You hung up before they could say anything else and turned your focus to Erwin. “I feel the same way, just so you know. Think you’re it for me.”

“I sure hope so cause I don’t plan on losing you again.”

#snk erwin #aot erwin #attack on titan erwin #erwin smith #erwin headcanons #erwin smith fic #erwin smith snk #erwin smith fanfic #erwin smith smut #erwin smith fluff #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x y/n #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x black reader #aot fanfiction #aot x black reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x black reader #snk fanfiction #snk fluff #snk sasha #snk connie #snk x black reader #black reader #sasha x connie

[peaches-writes]

doll

member: changbin wc: 1.3k genre: fluff, high school au, bad boy au, prom au, a tiny cameo of older brother chan warnings: underage smoking and drinking, explicit language, making out ! (kids look away!) note: y dis turned out a lil too spicy than i intended it to b?

He knows it doesn’t work on anyone, especially not on you, but Changbin musters up a smirk anyway as he approaches, immediately making you roll your eyes from across the open yard. A bottle of wine and two wineglasses swiped from the buffet in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other, he then follows up on his usual cocky expression with a small wave of his hand before sitting down next to you on the poolside. “Now, what’s a pretty doll like you doing at a party like this?” 

You scoff and briefly turn away, laughing behind your gloved hand in embarrassment. “I’m class VP, Changbin. I have to be here.”

He nods quickly without much care while twisting the wine bottle’s cap open, holding the glass away from the two of you after as some of its bubbling contents spill on the sides and into the pool. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Humor me here a little bit, babe.” He winks after, transferring the wine bottle to his other hand to shake off the spilled liquid on his fingertips. Instinctively, you then pull the fabric of your dress closer to you to avoid the droplets. “Anyway, date left you? Not feeling the prom anymore? Want to go swimming in the pool?” 

“No, I don’t have a date—but I was hoping for this one guy; not really, I think prom’s nice but I just wanted to get some air; and no, I don’t want to swim. There, now let’s drop the weird theatrics!” You answer with an amused smile as you steal glances over to him, picking up the cigarette pack he placed in between the two of you to pass the time while he poured white wine on the glasses. Inspecting one roll, you then hold it up to Changbin with a chuckle and ask, “You still smoke rolls? So old-fashioned even for you. I thought you were gonna switch as soon as that new vape shop opened.” 

Changbin turns to you after a moment, passing a wineglass to you with a scrunched up expression and a shrug. “I don’t know, I still can’t get into those e-cigs.” He confesses under his breath, taking the roll from your hand as you receive the wineglass from him before sticking it in between his teeth. “And bold of you to call me old-fashioned. I taught you how to smoke, class VP.” 

You chuckle at this, muttering a small thank you for the wine before taking a short sip. “I’m not sure if letting me choke on my first time and telling me to just suck it up was teaching.” You point out jokingly, making him laugh along this time as he takes out his rabbit-shaped lighter from his tuxedo’s inner pocket. When your eyes meet, you then surprise him by taking out an e-cigarette from your pockets. “But you really should try e-cigs. They’re a whole lot better.” 

You see him raise his brow again behind the puff of smoke that escapes his lips, a mix of intrigue and confusion this time. “God, did I corrupt you this bad?” He proudly muses out loud as he catches his breath, a more genuine smirk settling on his expression as you send him a subtle wink. He drinks to this with a chuckle. “Doll, what would your classmates say? That what’s-his-name president? What would your mom say if she sees you smoking and drinking out here with me?” 

You roll your eyes with a smirk of your own, finding amusement in the way that he’s still obviously jealous of your classmate. “His name is Minho—”

“—I don’t care—” 

“—And you won’t tell on me to my mom. What are you gonna do? Willingly go to the principal’s office? Tch.” You point out mockingly before inhaling from the e-cigarette, exhaling the Nerds-scented vapor in Changbin’s direction after. “Fuck what everyone thinks. We’re almost done here, anyway.” 

You glance over your shoulder to Changbin once more, catching him as he places a hand behind you to support himself leaning back then closer. With a long sip of his wine, the glass then falls into the pool as he inches his face even closer to you. “Such dirty words, doll.” He comments in a whisper, lips barely an inch above yours. In this small space, he then removes his cigarette along with one last puff of smoke, fingertips briefly brushing against your lower lip in the process. “And they’re all coming from your pretty lips. Do tell, who taught you that?” 

“This guy I have a crush on from another class. You might know him: chest tattoos, always has cuts on his knuckles, randomly talks like he’s in a bad 80s romance movie, still smokes cig rolls, kisses really good...” You tease back, briefly closing the gap with a fleeting peck to his lips. “Everyone thinks he’s all tough and scary but he doesn’t like it when people talk about us when they see us together and he can’t even ask me to prom. Kinda sad ‘cause I was hoping he would.” 

Changbin initiates the kiss this time with an amused hum, simultaneously sliding your wineglasses and cigarettes to the side then tugging you closer to his lap. 

You press a hand to his chest in response, your other hand snaking up to his neck. “We’re in public, Binnie.” 

“Doll, you know I couldn’t just ask you to prom even if I myself wanted to. Your dad would’ve brought out his garden sears if I showed up at your gates again. Then Chan would kill me for asking you after finding out that I taught you how to drink and smoke.” He sighs in between long kisses and stray ones landing lower down your jaw, successfully pulling you to his lap when you eventually give in. “And you know how your stupid classmates gossip about us all the time. So fucking annoying...”

“Since when did you care?” 

“Shit, I really am a bad influence on you.” He chuckles and relaxes his shoulders at your sudden quip, making you laugh as well. “Someone’s getting a little braver, a little more...rebellious.” 

“I’m just saying, we’re both here now and they can’t do anything about it.” You giggle, surrendering in your small struggle and lifting your other hand up his neck to tug at the freshly dyed blonde roots. “You look handsome, by the way. Thanks for coming to prom, even if it’s not your scene and all. I appreciate it a lot.” 

“Of course, I can’t let my pretty doll spend even just one night with someone else.” He points out, pulling away briefly and blinking up at you as you try and bite down a giddy smile. Cupping your cheeks gently, he then kisses you one last time before asking, “And speaking of, as much as I really want to keep kissing you out here, how about a dance?” 

“Really? Right now?” You raise a mocking brow, pretending to push Changbin away by his chest. “Going a little soft on me now, Seo? Are you even class 4-E’s Seo Changbin? Who are you and what have you done to my Binnie?”

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me, angel, who knows.” He breathlessly answers while shrugging innocently, hands going lower down your waist and placing you back to sit on the poolside’s cold pavement. “But anyway, we’re still at prom. We should dance at least once.” 

You raise your brow even higher, making him scoff and roll his eyes. “What about all your drama with people seeing us together?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman here, doll.” He dismisses your teasing, extending his hand out for you to help you stand. “Come on, you’ve got enough fresh air already. Like you said, fuck everyone we’re almost done here, anyway. Might as well surprise them, right?” 

With flushed cheeks and a wide grin, you don’t even hesitate to take his hand and follow him up. “Right, fuck everyone.” 

m.list 

@skzwriternet​

#stayverse #districtninewriters #inkidz #stayhavennet #skzwriternet #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #stray kids blurbs #stray kids fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz au #skz bubble #skz fluff #skz drabbles #skz oneshots #changbin #seo changbin #stray kids changbin #skz changbin #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #changbin au #changbin blurbs #changbin drabbles

[bibbykins]

Tandem Heartbeats and Close Calls

A/N: Hi everyone! I had started this little drabble forever ago and recently finished it in a half-asleep stupor, so I hope you can forgive the quality. It’s not my best work, but I do want to give the time I spent finishing it justice by posting. Also, I know a ton of people want some sort of part two or continuance for Embroidery, and I do too, so until I can muster a proper part-two, please enjoy this drabble... which is also me committing myself to a series of fight/make up drabbles for the soft yan boys. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and have a lovely day/night!

Pairing: Soft Yandere! (Embroidery) Kim Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, panic attack, sensory overload meltdown/reaction, mean/degrading words, dissociation (kinda), emotional manipulation- this is not a depiction of a good or healthy couple this is an installment in the dark romance that I write for a mature (18+ since the first installment is rated as such) audience and do not wish nor intend for anyone to glorify or strive for this kind of relationship and I do not think anyone in BTS would act like this at all IRL, this is a work of fiction depicting a relationship that could not exist as such or functionally IRL,I could go on for days about this but please know that much. Also if I left out anything else I should add in the warnings I am so sorry and please let me know. 

Summary: He just wanted to stand up for you and you just wanted to stand on your own. The thought of you doing anything on your own, without him,  shakes him to his very core. 

You hated tension. You hated anger and the silence that came from having no words to properly express emotions. Yet, here you were with Taehyung, sitting in  his living room as he paced wildly, the both of you still in your work clothes. The disagreement turned full-blown fight stemming from an issue that seemed so silly to you.

You looked at your nails, chipping off the polish as you spoke, “I don’t see why you’re overreacting to misogyny in the workplace like this.” You mumbled, "And mad at me for it." You huffed, only earning a scoff from the pacing man.

“I don’t see why you’re so intent on being pushed around by lazy workers.” He seethed, “Youngmin knows better than to throw his work on you, he’s a production manager!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at this. You already knew that. You were just about to tell Youngmin that before Taehyung stepped in needlessly. This had definitely not been the first time people dumped work on you purely because you were a capable secretary and someone who looked like a pushover. You knew how to handle these situations, regardless if you ended up doing the work. Taehyung, however, seemed to not have any such faith in you considering the scene he made on the entire accounting floor, embarrassing the life out of you.

“That doesn’t give you the right to make a scene on my behalf.” You hissed back, "I can stand up for myself, if you just gave me the chance."

Taehyung scoffed and it made your eyebrow twitch at his patronizing demeanor, “Well, what else do I do if you’re being pushed around?” You huffed at the comment.

“I’m not being pushed around.” You tried to reason but Taehyung wouldn’t have it.

“Well, I’m the one making sure of that!” You flinched at the volume of his voice, but he didn’t catch it from his pacing while you stood, making him freeze.

“Then why are you the only one pushing me around?!” You huffed, tears in your eyes while Taehyung felt his heart crack. You had never yelled at him before, let alone cried because if him. The same realization seemed to dawn on you as you faltered for a moment, “I-I can handle things myself sometimes, you know.” You spoke incredulously, “I was a person of my own before you, do you not get that?!”

“Oh yeah? Who?” He snapped and you gasped lightly. Is this what he genuinely thought about you? Did your own boyfriend think so low of you and you couldn't see it, “I just remember you being a receptionist that cried on the phone and couldn’t be bothered to so much as make her own lunch, so what were you, if not mine?” He finished his words with a hard glare fixated at you which immediately softened at your glassy eyes with betrayal lying in your pupils

"How could you say that to me?!" You seethed, your eyes void of any affection or love for the man before you, making him freeze, “Do you know how hard I’ve worked to be who I am, and that person is not just your girlfriend, do you want me to prove it?!" Your words felt like a veiled threat, like you would leave him and he felt your words like a spear to the heart.

He could not let that happen, under any circumstances. You could not leave him. He could never allow it. You were his world, his everything, his reason for existing.

Going into panic mode, the man spoke in a hushed tone “Baby, I didn’t mean-

You held your hand up, silencing him as you shook your head, “I need some time to, you know, figure out who I am." You spoke sarcastically but voice quiet as you shuffled to the door.

"W-What do you mean?" He tried to keep the panic in his voice at bay as you slipped on your shoes.

You shrugged, "I don't know." An honest answer did make the situation less frightening for the both of you. What the fuck did you mean? What the fuck were you going to do by yourself?

Wrong answer. In order for you to leave this place, he had to know you loved him and would still continue to do so.

"You know I love you, my Venus, right?" His restraint was hanging by a thread as he watched you slip on your shoes.

"Right." You spoke, barely above a whisper.

Strike two. You didn't say it back. Why would you not say it back? How could you not say it back?! Taehyung watched his nightmare unfold at his own hand. You were slipping away from him, and for the first time, he had no idea what to do.

"I don't want you to go home this late, my love." He took slow steps toward you as your shaky hands tied your shoes, not accustomed to this kind of conflict, "I can just sleep on the couch, and you can..."

You whimpered as you couldn't tie your damn shoes. Your hands were shaking along with the rest of your form as you couldn't focus on the task at hand. You were overstimulated to say the least by everything. From the work day, to the scene, to the fight, to the brokeness of everything around you. Taehyung and you rarely ever fought and each time it was mentally exhausted, but it had never been this bad. You had never felt so sub-human and worthless. Were you just an accessory this whole time?

Had Taehyung loved you or just your company? You felt like a burden to him and just like a shitty excuse of a human all around. What the hell are you if not his? Maybe he was right.

A whine sounded from your closed lips as tears fell to the ground. Your shaky hands had paused on your laces completely, the knots tangled and resembling nothing like the bunny ears you needed. Goodness, you couldn't even tie your damn shoes correctly. 

Taehyung's words evidently fell on def years as only distressed sounds and whines came from you. The word was blurrying from your tears and just being overwhelmed all around as your chest squeezed around itself and you opened your mouth to choke on a sob before two hands covered your ears, pushing your face into a familiar chest.

You fought against the embrace before falling on your bottom and defeatedly ceasing your struggles as you focused on the quickened heartbeat your partner had. Why was he so panicked? Surely you were not significant enough to make the ever cool Kim Taehyung's self-confidence shake, right? His heart was pounding furiously, just like yours, though. You thought back to his comment about tandem heart beats on your first night together. Now, the reasoning didn't sound so crazy as the synchronous heartbeats you both shared resounded between your forms. Your sobs evolved into just heavy breaths as your shoulders relaxed a bit, signaling the man holding you to pull back a bit. His hands slid down to cup your cheeks and stroked them softly, a sad smile adorning his beautiful face.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay, hm?" He kissed your forehead, eyes glossy as he pulled back, laying his forehead on yours, "I'm so fucking sorry I was being such a piece of shit." His voice shook, "Fuck, I never meant to hurt you like that, I didn't even mean what I said. I was just fucking projecting because I was nothing until you came into my life-"

"What a lie." You sniffled, "You have always been Kim Taehyung, campus prince, successful businessman, a fucking CEO- board member- whatever." You sighed out, "You've always been something-"

"None of that meant anything to me, barely does now, I never cared about anything until I met you." He breathed shakily, "I love you so much and you brought so much color to my world and I felt like all I had to offer you was protection and I have no damn idea how to be of use to you while you're so effortlessly the focal point of my existence." 

Your breath hitched at this, "I-I… What the hell are you talking about?" You huffed out, "This whole night I have felt like such a burden, like I was just a pet for you to look after, like I would be nothing without you- like you said-" Pain flashed across his face. He did say that. He didn’t mean it, but he said it and it affected you.

"Shit, I did not mean that at all, please believe me." He begged, voice cracking, "I am nothing if not yours, I can't take care of myself without you, my life is nothing without you in it." You opened your mouth to protest but he continued after a heavy breath, "I remember you as the receptionist who didn't care who liked her and who didn't, but you were still so shamelessly human and it was, and still is, fucking beautiful to see, you are so dedicated and hard-working. I felt the only way I could even get involved with you was through anonymous lunches because I was too cowardly to just approach you. Why would you like me to begin with? You never once needed me, but I have spent years now, needing you so shamelessly and it makes me feel so small when you don't need my help and I lash out like a child about it and say things I don't fucking mean, at all." He took a deep breath, "I love you more than anything, more than life itself, and I never want to make you feel like anything less than a fucking goddess and I'm so sorry I fucked up so bad." You couldn't find words as he gave you a short kiss on your nose before pulling away, averting his eyes as his cheeks glistened and he focused his hand on your shoes, "If you still need time on your own, I understand, and...and I will respect that." He spoke softly, defeated, as he gently undid the tangle of knots on your left shoe before beginning to tie it correctly, "Is that too tight?" He murmured.

You shook your head, tears heavy on your cheeks, "Stop, Tae-Tae." You pleaded softly but he could hardly register your words until you laid a hand on his, making him look up at you.

You studied his face, tears fresh on his cheeks with stains beginning to dry from previous ones, "Baby?" His voice was so broken.

"You can just take off the shoes, I-I want to lay down." You looked at him as he met your eyes with hopefully ones, "With you. I want to lay down… with you." He nodded before gingerly taking your shoes off, as if to give you time to change your mind, "I love you Tae-Tae, I really fucking do, and it's so scary because I want to be perfect for you like you are for me and I feel like I keep falling short and so to hear you say that earlier it just…" You shrugged, not sure how to vocalize how you felt.

He sighed, "I really didn't mean it, but it doesn't change the fact that I said it." He began to take off the other shoe, "I do think you're perfect and I need to be better with my stupid fucking insecurity about it and stop being such a dick." He slipped the other shoe off before pulling you into a tight embrace, "I love you, so much, and I would give up everything in a heartbeat just to be with you." You held him back, giving him peace of mind after being so vulnerable.

Your body was exhausted as he carried you to his bedroom. You could barely help him as he dressed you for bed and tucked you in carefully before sliding in next to you. He cradled you delicately in his arms, not squeezing until you held him against you tighter, "I forgive you." You whispered against his chest, "I love you, I really do."

"Thank you so much, my Venus." He sighed in relief at your words, "I love you too, so fucking much." He leant down as you kissed his lips softly. 

Taehyung lightly admonished himself for a moment. He nearly lost you. He could never let that happen again from his own foolishness. He couldn't live without you. He would never fuck up like that again, and he wouldn't. He vowed to never make a scene like that. He had to do that shit in private, obviously. He slipped up, but he would not be so obnoxious again. 

Before he could continue to curse his stupidity, you snuggled against him, "G'night, my love." You murmured and he relaxed instantly, head cleared with only thoughts of how much he loved you.

"Sweet dreams, my Venus." He kissed the crown of your head and you hummed in delight at the gesture before he joined you in closing his eyes and drifting away into a peaceful sleep after one of the scariest nights of his life.

Thankfully, Taehyung never made the same mistake twice. Especially a mistake so critical. Who knows what he would’ve had to do if you were dead set on leaving him? Again, thankfully, neither you, nor Taehyung, would not find out. Not that Taehyung  planned for you to ever find out just how far he was willing to go to keep you with him, to keep your requited love, to keep both of your hearts beating, together.

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[downywrites]

“It’s payback time.”

Hello there, folks. It is I, a bird. With a keyboard. Bird says hi. Enjoy fic. (Please note-there is swearing.)

The sound of hooves clopping loudly on the cold castle floor echoed as Schlatt weaved through the long corridors. His heart pumped loudly in his ears as he tried to gain speed as much as he physically could without slipping on the smooth stone. He heard the sound of feathers rustling behind him, making him speed up his gait more in a feeble attempt to escape from his pursuer. “Leave me alone, you piece of shit! We’re adults, you bird-brained idiot!” 

The pursuer in question chuckled as he pursued, his feet hitting the floor much more gently than the cloven-hooved man. “Adults still have fun too, you know~ Come here, Schlatt!” He called, signature wings tucked close to his body to increase his running speed. Schlatt’s eyes widened and he screeched to a halt right before hit a wall. He searched frantically for an exit, cursing quietly under his breath. “Out of all the areas in this godforsaken castle, I had to find the one area with no exits? What the fuck is this castle made for, just to confuse people?” 

He turned to see King Philza, ruler of the Arctic Kingdoms, standing at the only hallway exit, wings spread menacingly. “Heya, Schlatt. How ya doing, mate?” He ignored the winged hybrid, trying to run past him in a desperate bid to escape. Philza used his wings to block his path, pushing him down smoothly. “Gotcha.” He pinned his arms with one hand. He immediately started tickling Schlatt’s sides, poking and pinching firmly. Schlatt burst into instantaneous laughter, curling in on himself and bleating angrily at him. “Yohohohou fuhuhuhucking bihihihitch of a bihihihird!”

 He struggled and bucked, trying to escape him. Philza ignored his swears and curses, tickling at his tummy and sides with his wing tips. “Tickle, tickle, little ram boy. So cute!” “Ihihihi’m nohohot cuHUHUTE!” He was so focused on his tickling techniques, so intent on his goals, that he had loosened his grip ever so slightly on his hands. Schlatt grinned. He pulled at his hands in one quick jerk, slipping out of his grip and grabbing where blindly at where his wings protrude. As he clutched and squeezed, soft and hard muscles squishing gently under his fingers, Philza stopped tickling him with a loud squawk. He tried reaching for his hands, then at his arms, but it was already too late to stop him. He rolled them over, still massaging Philza’s wings roughly. “This is what you get for being such an unruly prick of a ruler!” He risked letting go of his wings to scratch quickly at his melt spot, in the hopes of weakening the hardcore warrior. It had the desired effect- Philza loosened up a bit, his laughter going up an octave in turn. “Ehahaha, Schlahahatt, nohoho!” 

“Schlatt, yes! Revenge, motherfucker!” He continued teasing and scratching at the bird man’s melt spot, until his wriggling and squirming had all but subsided. He looked into his dazed and tickled-silly eyes, smirking. “Is that all you could do? I think you can do better than that, birdie.” An idea popped up in his head, his ears flicking in excitement. “So, little birdie, do you think your little ‘dungeon’ would be helpful? I mean, nobody goes down there anyways. Perfect for us~” He sing-songed, grabbing and hoisting the bird man over his arm, with a bit of a struggle.

 As he walked to the dungeon entrance, he continued to tease and prod at his melt spot, making sure Phil didn’t awaken from his ticklish daze. The man in question barely attempted to escape from him, making small little huffs and calls in between his laughter. As they descended into the barely-used ‘dungeon’, Philza began to put two and two together. He started squirming on his shoulder, protesting weakly under his breath. However, the ram wasn’t as weak as he looked, keeping him on his shoulder with ease. Once he reached a good room, he let go of him, letting him tumble to the ground unceremoniously. Philza attempted to escape, only to fall back to the ground with a squeak as Schlatt scribbled over one of his feet as he crawled on the floor. Schlatt grasped one of Phil’s ankles, pulling him onto an interrogation table with both hands. He flipped the bird man over, attaching restraints and chains with resounding clicks and clinks. At this point, Philza was genuinely struggling to escape, but try as he might, the bonds held firm. He looked over his shoulder in slight fear, but his wings blocked the view. He cursed his anatomy, not willing to unfold his wings and give Schlatt the advantage. 

“So, Philza.” Schlatt’s booming voice made him flinch, wings tightening in their folded position. “Not so kingly now, huh? I ain’t a real citizen here, ya know. To all of your maids and butlers, all I am is a tiny little ram you keep as a pet.” He dug his fingers into one of his folded wings, rubbing at the down underneath. “That means that they’d never, ever believe that your little rammy would ever be able to truss you up like a prize pig, eh? Speaking of pigs.” He traced little shapes over his captive’s wings, delighting in the way that they shivered under his touch. “I think Techno’s out and about, isn’t he? I don’t think he, or any of your sons, for that matter- are going to come to your aid. It’s just me and you now. Any regrets?” 

Phil, for good measure, was already giggling and hiccuping, squirming in his bonds as if that would change a thing. “Nohoho, plehehease! Schlahahatt!” “Please? Nah, I don’t think so. This is too good of an opportunity to give up, hm?” He drew a little face in his feathers, leaving them ruffled in his wake. Schlatt dragged his hands from the king’s wings down to his sides, tasering him. He watched the royal’s face contort into a forced-back smile, grinning evilly. “How does it feel to be on the receiving end, Philee? Coochie, coochie coo, my king~” 

Philza whimpered slightly at the baby talk, blush burning brightly on his face. “N-no, Schlatt...nohohoho bahahaby tahahalk!” He shook his head, his bucket hat shifting dangerously on his head. Schlatt saw this and, with a dramatic flourish only the ram could muster for such a foolish thing, he scooped it up, placing it on his head haphazardly. “Whoopie, I’m the king now! Bow to your ruler, Phil…. Oh wait, you can’t.” 

He dug his fingers back into his side, squeezing at the closest hip. The reaction was instantaneous. Phil bucked and arched his back, wings extending out like a black curtain to either side of him. “EhEEE! GihihiHIve mehIHI MiHIhi hahahat bahahack!” He snorted at that, balancing the hat precariously on one of his curling horns. Quickly taking advantage of the outspread wings, he dug his fingers into the inside of one, making sure that he dug deep enough into the feathers to poke at the muscle beneath. Once he had done so, he raked through the feathers, dragging his fingers over the sensitive muscles roughly. The bird hybrid tugged desperately at the chains, laughter making his whole body quiver like a worn-out violin. The wings themselves trembled, attempting to fold back in and away from the ram. He grabbed at the wing he was stroking, holding on to the crook of the wing firmly. “Oh no you don’t, you fucking pigeon.” He chortled at the feeling of the feathers fluffing up in annoyance underneath his hand. “IHIHI’M A EHEHEHAGLE, YOHOHOHOU FUHUHUCK!”

 Schlatt ignored him in favor of digging his fingers deeper into his feathers. The king squawked, flapping his trapped wing and dislodging the other hybrid’s hands. He retracted them fully, tightening them so much they shook slightly with the effort. Ram ears flicked in annoyance, and Schlatt huffed a bit, stomping his hoof slightly at the recalcitrant lee. “Why, you little-” His eyes drifted to the king’s exposed back, and he rubbed his hands together, chuckling darkly. From the corner of his eye, he saw Phil’s feathers stand on end in alarm, which made him even more certain of his next move. He strode over to the other side of him, hooves making loud clopping noises as they struck the floor. “Hey Phil? I always wondered why you had such an exposed back on all of your clothes. After all, weren’t you oh so very ticklish there?” He dragged one finger up his spine, delighting in the little shivers and nervous giggles he got in response. “But now that I’ve been in your shoes, worn your crown, I think I’ve found out why, oh great king of the Arctic.” 

He reached the small of his back, rubbing circles just around the melt spot teasingly. He leaned to the side, whispering into his ear. “I think this great king, the powerful warrior, yearns to be wrecked. Tickled until he can’t speak. He wants someone to rub and tease at his wings until he can’t breathe, can’t call for help. You love this, don’t you? You should give up on escaping, Philza. You’re mine.” He growled the last words, delighting in the way the warrior startled from his sudden tone change. 

Philza whimpered loudly under him, pulling one wing over his face in embarrassment. “Y-yohohohou…” His whole body shook with the effort of not bursting into hiccupy laughter from the circling. His eyes pricked with tears. If he wasn’t chained down the way he was, he would’ve wiped them off in annoyance. A good king should never cry in front of their subjects. Then again, was Schlatt a subject? I mean, he did essentially just wander in with Tubbo at his heel. They- 

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts by a hand ghosting over the muscles of his back, the anticipatory giggles escaping from his mouth before he could stop them. Schlatt growled playfully, mimicking the emperor’s favored form of informing his sons of his mood. He started counting down, fingers wiggling just barely over the king’s shivering back. “10, 9, 8, 7…” As the countdown got closer and closer to zero, Phil got more and more nervous and giggly. He pushed the wing covering his face more into his mouth, effectively muffling his giggles. Schlatt frowned at that. “5..nah, that’s enough.” He started roughly scribbling all over his back, pinching and scritching at the base of his wings. He marvelled at the texture of the downy seams there. It was perfectly soft, similar to the feeling of a downy, silky pillow’s innards. 

Philza’s wings flicked open fully, unable to resist the instinctual reaction. He shrieked, tears pricking at his eyes again. “EEEEAAAHAHAHA hic SCHLAHAHAHAHAT! NAHAHAHA- hic NOHOHOHOHO!” He bucked and squirmed, only to force Schlatt’s hands deeper into the sensitive plumage. The ram hybrid in question continued his onslaught, poking and prodding at every spot that made his laughter hitch up a notch. Soon enough, there were genuine tears rolling down Phil’s face. 

At this point, the bird hybrid’s blush had reached his ears and down to his collarbone, tinting the lighter flesh a tanned pink. His wings had all but gone limp, hanging gently over the edge of the table and flapping gently when he gained enough energy to. Schlatt ignored the signs of his subject’s stamina flagging, choosing instead to mess with more areas around and slightly below the back. Once he heard his hiccups cease, however, he finally slowed to a stop, letting the winged man rest. He watched Phil’s chest rise and fall in shallow, stuttering heaves, before deciding to flip the man over. He placed him back in the cuffs, about to lock the last one in, only for Phil to grab onto his hand tightly. 

He flicked his ears back, scared of the punishment he knew the emperor could bring upon him, but the only thing he felt was a small, unsteady circle on the meat of his thumb. He looked down to see a panting, smiling, tear-stained face, as regal and poised as he was undone by the rough tickling. “Schlahahatt, Ihihihi’m ahahalright.” He grinned widely at him, wings opening slightly from behind him. Schlatt looked at him, unsure. What if this was a trick? A ruse? If he manages to get me down here, he might execute me. I’ve never had to deal with a fucktard ruler like him before. He shook his head, moving to undo the restraints before he got into a deeper pile of shit. The king’s hand tightened, making him gasp from the sheer strength behind it. Didn’t this man just get wrecked?

 Philza’s voice echoed in the room. “Schlahahatt. Ihihi.. Ihihi wahahant thihihis.” He looked back just in time to see Phil avert his eyes, blushing again from his intense (and confused) gaze. He looked at his form, simply admiring how weak and vulnerable he looked in the bonds. He was so used to seeing this very same form sitting on his throne, helping people with their work, being kind and caring in every manner to the people of the Arctic Empire. He had seen him in many a fight in the castle, wings out and spread like a living cape, sword shining like a beacon of hope in the darkness of night. He had listened to his booming voice, powerful and noble, yet rustic and warm with the sweet undertones of honey. He had seen it all from afar, heard of his deeds far and wide, long before he ever set hoof in the area. And here he was, holding such power and control over such a noble warrior, the one whose wings could reach the sun. For once in his life, he could not find a single snarky word to say, not a single thing to do. He could not move and break this peace, yet this man, the king with many names, had beckoned him forward to finish the job. He felt as if he were the one vulnerable and at someone’s mercy, not as if he was the one holding the rope. 

He stepped forward robotically, closing and securing the last shackle. He stepped back, looking straight into the king’s confident, sky blue eyes. “A-are you sure I can do this to you, your majesty?” He managed to croak out, ears flicking nervously. He nibbled a tiny bit at the skin on his knuckles, shifting on his hooves. Phil nodded, hair bouncing up and down a little as he did so. “You may, Schlatt.” As he moved forward towards the bound man, Phil whispered under his breath, just barely loud enough for his sensitive ears to pick up. “Just remember, you’re going to pay for that stunt you pulled earlier, no matter what you do here.” He stepped back a bit at that, bleating in surprise. The winged man chuckled at his reaction, grinning sneakily at his captor. 

Schlatt narrowed his eyes at him, stepping close to his face. He whipped out his hands from behind him, making Phil close his eyes instinctually, before untying his (as in, Tubbo’s, but he still hasn’t noticed the loss of it yet) scarf, pulling it over the king’s eyes. He secured it, tickling gently under his chin as he pulled away. Phil was definitely not expecting that, yelping long and loud at the sensory deprivation. He tucked his head into his shoulders at the gentle tickles, already laughing. The inability to see where Schlatt was going next was already killing him. “Schlahahahatt! Nohoho, plehehease nohoho!” 

Schlatt raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh? Begging already? What happened to the ‘noble king’ act you were sporting a few minutes ago, hmm? Was that all bravado? Oh, please.” He started tracing shapes over the man’s torso, gently tickling there, and moving downwards to his belly. As he did so, he started getting more and more random, until he was scribbling and pinching all over his tummy haphazardly, reaching the same frenetic pace as before. Phil was already tearing up from this. Even though none of these spots were as bad as his back, the blindfold made it impossible to see where the ram would poke next. Every poke and scribble made him buck in the restraints. His mind screamed at him for deciding to let Schlatt do whatever he wanted. He could kill you anytime. Thankfully, he had already known that Schlatt wasn’t going to harm him. He had checked the ram’s pockets before they had started, stating that ‘he didn’t want him to attempt to steal anything and eat it as they went’. He had found no weapons or anything that could be used to kill him, so he waved that thought off with ease. He won’t touch me. He cares for me. He smiled in genuine happiness, trilling and cooing in the back of his throat in unadulterated joy. 

The ram hybrid smiled, continuing to tickle at his tummy and sides. “Having fun there, Philza? I think you are~” As if he wanted to prove his point, he dug in a little harder, causing the bird hybrid to buck up more into his hands. His laughter went squeaky from underneath him, making him chuckle darkly. “Ohh, coochie, coochie coo! Doesn’t it feel good to be the one getting wrecked for once? Revenge is so sweet.” 

Philza nodded his head wildly, making the ram chuckle even more at the intense looking movement. He moved to his hips, digging his nails into the strong bones there. He watched his king buck up and screech with laughter at the new movement, one hoof stomping happily in return. He squeezed and scribbled over the man’s hipbones, delighting in the honey-warmed laughter he got there. He wondered how the emperor could have such a smooth and comforting laugh, even when he was being tickled silly by one of his so-called ‘subjects’. He continued to rub and tease at his hips, enjoying the light pink trails that he left as he went. He moved back to his stomach, scratching with his thumbs over his abs. He gently rubbed at the scars, marvelling at the texture but wincing in empathy at the idea of how he had earned them. 

To Philza, this was the most torturous yet heavenly thing to have ever happened to him. Never in his lifetime on the throne had anyone ever dared to fight back, much less restrain him and blindfold him in this manner. Sure, he had many a tickle fight with his sons before- but they’ve never, ever decided to go this far with him, even in the most intense of moments. Yet here he was, at the mercy of a hybrid he had met not long ago who had absolutely no affiliation to the throne nor the country. If he was anyone else, he would have been worried, afraid even, of this person, this enigma of a creature. 

Fortunately (and unfortunately), he was not anyone else. He was not afraid of such a creature tumbling into his life, instead adopting him as one of his own and treating him similarly. He loved him dearly, and he was overjoyed to find that this rude, often grumpy ram hybrid called Schlatt truly loved him back. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to do this. He knew that his officials would have been concerned at his lack of safety, but he knew the truth. He knew that trust comes from powerful vulnerability. So, instead of snapping the restraints he knew exactly how to break, he sat there, wiggling in blissful agony as Schlatt dug into his most ticklish scars.

 He didn’t remember how long he was there, tears streaming from his eyes, wings unfolding and refolding. He didn’t remember when Schlatt finally finished, unshackling him and rubbing at his chafed wrists, mumbling apologies. And he certainly didn’t remember when he drifted off to blessed unconsciousness, cuddling with the ram on the now-warm interrogation table, no. What he did remember was awakening to see a now very trussed-up Schlatt, hanging from his wrists just barely on a stool, with two of his sons growling at him menacingly. “W-wait, boys! T-techno, Wilbur! We can t-talk about this, right?” He looked desperately at the king, ears flicking back in fear. He got up from the table, wings stretching out fully behind him. As he walked forward, wings dusting the ground as he went, he grinned at the terrified hybrid. “Remember what I said earlier about what I’d do to you for yesterday?” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “It’s payback time.” And so, the ram’s laughter echoed through the dungeon, bouncing off of the restraints that so tightly bound the king, sealing his fate for that morning (and the day after, for good measure).

Thank you for reading. Bird thanks you.

#mcyt tickle #downywrites #lee!philza #ler!schlatt #dsmp tickle #my writing #sfw tickling

[elliesguitarstrings]

Here For You

Masterlist

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Peter comforts you after you reveal your struggles with depression to him.

A/N: Sorry it’s taking me so long to write part 3 of Silence but I promise it will be out soon. I’ve just had a rough couple of days so I wanted to write something that kinda reflects my feelings atm. I know that a lot of people are feeling the same way as I have been, so I’m just putting it out there that I am always open to talk if anyone needs help :)

Warnings: fluff, mentions of depression and suicide, language

~~~~~~~~

You let out a long sigh as you close your computer after the last class of the day. You’re exhausted, you have a pounding headache, and you don’t have a single shred of motivation.

When all of this COVID stuff first started, you didn’t mind doing school from home. To be completely honest, you actually loved it. You didn’t have to talk to all the annoying people in your classes, you could do a large portion of work on your own time, and you had an excuse to stay in your room all day. What’s not to love, right?

Wrong.

After a few weeks, you started to see how terrible it all was. You had to teach yourself everything because your teachers had no clue what they were doing (and they still don’t). You started to get distracted easily. And the worst part: every single fucking day was the same.

You lost all motivation to do anything.

You’re smart, one of the smartest in your class, actually, but your grades were dropping rapidly. You lost track of assignments, turning them in so late you didn’t even get half credit. You procrastinated like crazy, dreading every single day. You stayed up late every night, trying to finish assignments and get back on track. But nothing was working.

You want to change so badly. You want to be one of those girls who keeps a bullet journal with fancy colors and letters, who plans out their entire day with a checklist, who stays on top of their work, and who actually has the motivation to get up out of bed each morning. But you can’t and you aren’t, and you don’t know why.

Plus, right now you were on your period, which was not helping things. At all. You hate feeding the stereotype of girls being all emotional and unstable during their periods, but it’s true. Well, for you at least. When you’re happy, it’s like you’re bouncing off the walls. But when you’re sad, it’s like you’ve fallen into a 300 ft deep hole and you’ll never get out.

You crawl into bed and start sobbing, the only thing you can do right now. You just want it to be over. All of it.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your window. Your shades are drawn, but you know exactly who it is. It’s Peter. He goes patrolling around the city after school, but he always comes to check on you first, seeing as you’re his girlfriend and all.

You know that if he sees you crying, he’ll want to help you, but the last thing you want is to be a burden on him. Plus, you only started dating a few months ago, and you didn’t want to drive him away by getting all emotional around him.

“Just a sec Pete, I’ll be right there.”

You run to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face, trying to get rid of the redness and puffiness in your eyes. You pat your face dry with a towel, put on the best smile you can muster, and run back to your room.

You draw back the curtains and open the window, allowing Peter to slip into your room.

“Sorry it took so long for me to get to the window, I um, just woke up from a nap,” you apologize, shutting the window back while he takes off his mask.

“Don’t worry about it! But didn’t school end like 10 minutes ago? How did you fall asleep so fast?”

“Oh, um, my last class got dismissed early, so I was actually done like 30 minutes ago,” you lied, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Oh, okay, well I’m glad you got some rest. You need it.”

Smiling, Peter stretches his arms out towards you and pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead.

Just that small amount of affection is almost enough to make you burst out into tears again, but somehow you manage to hold it in.

Until Peter pulls back, looks you dead in the eyes and says, “What’s wrong?”

“What? N-nothing’s wrong Peter, I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you aren’t. I can sense something’s wrong, so just tell me.”

“Peter I swear. Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine!” your voice is shaking.

Peter folds your hands into his, “Y/N, please. I know something’s up. Just tell me.”

That’s when you lose it. You fall back into his arms, sobbing even harder than before. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. But there’s no stopping it now.

Peter holds you tight while you cry, letting you bury your head into his chest. He doesn’t ask any questions just yet, he just holds you.

After a few minutes, the tears let up enough for you to pull away, looking at Peter with red, swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry Pete, I’m so so sorry. I- I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you stutter between sobs.

“Y/N, no, no, it’s okay. You can let it out.”

His voice is soft and comforting, and it does actually help you a little bit. He pulls you into another tight hug, repeatedly kissing the top of your head while you continue to cry.

“Come here, lets sit down, okay?” he pulls away slightly.

You nod weakly, and he guides you onto your bed. You both sit down, facing each other, and he takes a hold of your hands.

“Peter I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a burden, you should go do your patrolling, I don’t want to hold you up – “ you start, but Peter cuts you off.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry. And forget about my patrolling. I’m staying here until you’re better, however long that is.”

You smile weakly, to tired to even fight on it.

“Do you want to talk about it? Only if you’re comfortable though, you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter questions.

You look at Peter for a moment through teary eyes. He was here for you, ready to listen to you and help you. You were hesitant, not wanting to spill all of your feelings out on him, but you’ve already gotten this far, so why not.

“Yeah, sure, but can we cuddle?”

“Of course baby, whatever makes you comfortable. But let me change first, I’m drenched in your tears,”

You chuckle lightly. Peter always knows how to make you laugh.

He changes into a sweatshirt and sweatpants that he left at your house and climbs back into bed with you. He pulls you close to him, and you snuggle into his arms.

“So, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Are you sure you want to hear my problems? I really don’t want to be a burden Pete,” you respond, still crying.

“Baby, I’m here for you. I want to help you and make you feel better. That’s what I’m here for.”

He really is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

“Well, um, okay. It’s just, I don’t have any motivation to do anything. Not even to wake up in the morning. Even just the simplest tasks seem so difficult, and I feel like I can’t do this anymore Pete. I just can’t do it.”

You start to sob once again, and Peter pulls you into him even closer. He lets you cry and slowly calm down for a few moments before responding.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I had no idea you felt like that. I mean, I knew school was bothering you, but not to that extent. But please, please please don’t leave me. You mean so much to me and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” now he’s starting to cry.

You lay there, Peter’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as close as humanly possible to him, both crying your eyes out.

“Y/N, I’m going to help you. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Because losing you isn’t an option. So tell me what I can do to help.”

“Thank you so much Pete. You being here Is honestly the best thing you can do right now.”

You snuggle into him, engulfed by his warmth and comfort.

After a long silence, you look at him and smile, genuinely this time, “You know, even though I’ve been sobbing nonstop basically since you got here, just being with you has already made me feel better than I have all week.”

Peter looks back at you and cups your cheek, pulling you in and kissing you softly. Although the two of you had kissed many times before, this one was different. This was pure love.

You pull away, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Of course baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”

You both smile, going back in for another kiss, much like the last.

This time Peter pulls away forehead still resting against yours, “Y/N, promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise Pete, I promise.”

You snuggle back into his chest, your tears finally diminishing. Although the past few months had been absolute shit for you, Peter had always been there. And you know he always will be. He makes everything better, and you couldn’t be happier to have him in your life.

The both of you start to doze off to sleep, tired from all the crying you had been doing for the past, well, however long it’s been.

Before you fully fall asleep, you whisper, “I love you Peter.”

“I love you too, so much” he whispers back.

And in that moment, you are truly happy.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist (if you want to be added, removed, or changed on this taglist please comment or send in an ask!)

All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @depeestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen

Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe 

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x y/n

[ollie-ollie-oxenfreee]

then came the morning (aka: the post - canon cuddle fic)

The work in progress is finally done! I’ve been chipping away at it for the past couple weeks now, and it’s gone through many drafts / iterations, but I think I’m finally happy with it. :)

Title from an album by the Lone Bellow. 

The first time the two of them “shared a bed” was about as awkward as one might imagine. The initiating circumstances were hardly any better.

 The heating apparatus in their quarters had given out a week or so back in a spectacular fit of dust - laden wheezing. The engineering crew called in to inspect it informed them that it couldn’t be fixed until they could pick up the right parts at the nearest trading post (which was naturally thousands of klicks away on the ragged edge of nowhere). With the ambient heat from the nearby engine room seeping through the wall, the conditions were deemed “unpleasant but survivable.” They were issued two extra threadbare blankets and told in tersely formal military - speak to deal with it. 

 And they’d dealt with it really well for a while! They grit their teeth and carried on like a couple of champs: Harrow, having been thoroughly warned against using her magic too frequently, layering on spare cloaks and sweaters until she almost disappeared under a mountain of black fabric; Gideon curling up close to the engine room wall and wincing when the cold sent spiteful twinges shooting through her still-very-busted knee. 

 But then one night their grand flagship of the revolution chugged through a particularly empty sprawl of space and began to slow down. The heat from the engine room guttered like a candle flame. Frost spiderwebbed across the thin plex of their window. Harrow’s breath showed in thin wisps of vapor as she huffed, glaring down at the pages of her book like she wanted to reprimand the cold for daring to interrupt her studies. 

 Gideon had half a mind to encourage her to try (that glare could stop a full - fledged Lyctor in their tracks, who knew what other horrifying powers it possessed?), but thought better of it when she saw the genuine exhaustion in the other girl’s eyes.

 “You doing alright over there, my vulturine vicar?” she asked. “I know it takes some time to absorb all that good bone knowledge, but you haven’t turned a page in like half an hour.”

 The thunderous look on Harrow’s face darkened further as she set her book aside with an exasperated thump. “This is ridiculous. I studied in the depths of Drearburh for years without any issue, and yet here I am struggling to focus like a novice. It isn’t even that cold.” She bit her lip as a shiver ran through her at the words. 

 “Evidence seems to suggest otherwise, o mistress of melancholy. Do you want me to go ask that guy in the supply room for another blanket? He still owes me for his son’s fencing lesson.”

 Supply room guy didn’t really owe her anything, but she knew that mentioning it would make Harrow feel better. If she could believe that the nice things Gideon did for her were actually for Totally Self - Serving, Debt - Settling reasons, she could accept them without feeling guilty.

 (Guilt had haunted Harrow more than ever upon returning to her own body, making it hard to breathe on good days and leaving her shaking with sobs on bad ones. 

It was one of those fun little things they had in common.)

 From the way Harrow’s shoulders stiffened, though, it seemed that Gideon Nav’s patented Guilt Workaround wasn’t going to be as effective as usual. She shook her head - a stiff little gesture that made her earrings rattle - then sighed. 

 “No. Thank you, though, it’s kind of you to offer.” 

 The thank you was sincere, and that was admittedly pretty nice, but all the sincerity in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Harrow was still  very obviously shivering. She looked miserable beneath her usual mask of face paint and stoicism. The dark red bead of blood-sweat trailing down her temple indicated that she'd probably tried using some kind of homeostasis theorem, but it wasn't working well enough. 

 There had to be a solution to this problem somewhere. Harrow's stubborn pride meant that she wouldn't accept help outright - she would sooner set her books on fire than admit what she thought of as a weakness - but if Gideon could play it just right, maybe she wouldn't have to. It would need to be done carefully - too sappy and she'd be uncomfortable, too straightforward and she'd balk.  Casual, Gideon decided. Nice and casual was the way to go. It would just be a matter of execution.

 "Soooo," she said at length, leaning back against the wall all cool and easy. (She folded her arms up behind her head as an afterthought, appreciating the way it made her still-atrophied-but-getting-there muscles stand out through the thin fabric of her shirt. Confidence boosts were going to be scarce and sorely needed in the conversation to come - she’d take them where she could get them.)

 Naturally, Harrow did not appreciate the change in tack or the cool-and-easy-ness. She did, however, manage to muster up a look so steeped in wary disapproval that it cut through her earlier frustration like a hot knife through bone marrow. “So.”

 “You sure about that blanket? Because really, it would only take me a second -”

 “I’m sure. Thank you.”

 “Then, um, did you want to borrow mine?”

 Harrow blinked. “You need yours.”

 “Yeah, I know! I meant that we could maybe - share. Pool our resources.” She patted the edge of her bunk gamely, then instantly regretted it when Harrow’s eyes narrowed even further. 

 “You want us to sleep together?”

 "No? I mean, technically, but no. In the literal way. Not the other way.” Well maybe the other way sometime if you wanted to but that’s a whole other weird conversation that we probably shouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or we might explode. 

 "How exactly would that work?" The caution was still heavy in Harrow's voice, but some of the disapproval had ebbed away. 

 "I mean. We'd probably need to use my bed, since my sheets aren't covered in gross bone gobbets, but you could bring your blankets over and layer 'em over mine and then we'd have twice the blankets! And, you know, body heat. Which has its perks." Even Gideon's cool-and- easy-ness faltered at that, but she bravely soldiered on. "The point is, we'd both be warm."

 "And it won't - make things weird?" 

 "Nope! Not weird. All perfectly chill, my shivering scion."

 Harrow paused for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'll get ready for bed," she said at last, clipped and decisive. "And I'll think about it."

 "Take your time. I'll be here."

 Moments later, after the shivering scion had swept grandly out of the room, Gideon's Thinking Brain crashed unceremoniously into her Talking Brain. Things were not, in fact, going to be perfectly chill. There were going to be some logistical problems with this arrangement. Big logistical problems.

 Big logistical problems namely revolving around the mutually exclusive facts that the midnight monarch was not especially comfortable with touch, and Gideon Nav, space - bee slayer and resurrected badass, was a sleep cuddler.

 Or, well, she was in theory. She didn’t have much (any) “real world” experience to go on, but she’d woken up many, many times back on the Ninth with a bundle of blankets wrapped up in her arms or nestled close to her chest. The habit had never really embarrassed her back then - she actually kind of liked it. She felt warmer and less lonely when she had something to hold, even in the frigid emptiness of her cell. 

 But that was back then. Things were different in the here - and - now. Harrow was in the here - and - now, and Gideon would never forgive herself if she ruined things with Harrow right when their relationship was on the upswing. They were actually talking, slowly figuring out how to work together again. The furious, tearful intensity between them in the wake of their reunion had calmed and warmed into something almost like real friendship. 

 After all that had happened - everything that had gone wrong over the past year and a half - they’d found a fragile sort of peace. There was no way in Hell she was going to ruin that peace now.

 So while Harrow swished about getting ready for bed, Gideon leveled with herself and laid down some ground rules. Don’t make this weird, Nav. Make sure she’s comfortable, give her her space, and don’t think about cuddling with her. 

 ...even though it would probably be warmer, and she has shitty necro circulation and essentially no body mass so she needs all the warmth she can get, and she gets that kinda soft peaceful look on her face when - no, fuck, see? You’re doing it already. Even if she did like you like that, which she absolutely doesn’t because she’s got a good old-fashioned frostbite girl back home, that’s not what you’re here for. You’re her cav. Her sworn sword. You’re here to do your job and make sure she doesn’t get her thumbs bitten off again. That’s it.

 “You’re staring.”

 Harrow’s voice cut sharp as a bone shard through Gideon’s nervous thought - spiral. Having apparently completed her grim evening rituals, she’d settled lightly on the far edge of the to - be - shared bed, countless dark layers poofing out around her like the feathers of a posturing crow. Her face was flecked with dots of gray from scrubbing off her paint, and her short hair stuck up in messy licks of black fluff despite her increasingly irritated attempts to smooth it flat. 

 It shouldn’t have been endearing. It really, really shouldn’t have. 

 It was.

 Gideon was so screwed.

 “Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face to ground herself. She glanced over to meet Harrow’s eyes (and wow, was that a mistake, they were as mesmerizing a swirl of black and gold as ever), then forced a smile like she wasn’t screaming internally. “Sorry. Zoned out a little. You good to go?”

 The wryly exasperated glint in Harrow’s eyes made them glow even brighter in the dim light. “Yes, I’m ‘good to go,’ thank you. Are you, though? You look … troubled.” 

 Shit. Shit. Shit. Think nice, normal thoughts. Don’t let her know. She cannot know. 

 “I’m always good, my chthonic countess,” she lied, smooth as could be, throwing in a roguish wink for good measure. That was distractingly stupid enough, it was bound to work.  

 Harrow frowned. “Why are you blinking like that?”

 The roguish wink apparently had not worked. 

 “No reason! Just dust. In my eye. Lots of very rude dust landing right in my eye. Anyway. How are we doing this?”

 A flicker of genuine, anxious concern ghosted over Harrow’s face as her frown deepened. 

 “Gideon,” she began, in that slow, reluctant way of hers that heralded Incoming Indignity. “I know that you were the one to suggest this, but I want to impress upon you that if you aren’t - certain about it, there is another possible solution.”

 She cast around the room for a moment and reached for a massive, dusty tome at the top of a nearby stack, flipping determinedly through the pages. “I've had the idea for some time, but I only just managed to convince our commanding officer that I could use theorems 'responsibly' without their constant supervision, so I haven't been able to test it until now. Small - scale thanergetic fission reactions produce sparks of flame that, if handled extremely carefully, could give off enough heat - "

 “Wait.” Gideon held up a hand, her own anxious brain jolting back online at the word flame. “Wait, wait, wait. Harrow. Seriously? The concern is sweet, don’t get me wrong, but your other solution is death - fire?”

 “I said that it was a possibility,” she snapped back, that old brittle defensiveness calcifying over the vulnerability in her voice. Her posture straightened with a great rustling of robes: shoulders back, chin high, eyes gleaming with disdainful pride as the bones scattered about their room twitched to life. Looking for all the world like she had when they were ten - twelve - fourteen - sixteen, bitter and vicious and spoiling for a fight. 

 She seemed to realize it right when Gideon did. Her eyes widened, then closed. The bowstring tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as her half - formed constructs clattered to the floor. “Sorry,” she said at last, her voice a threadbare murmur. “I’m sorry. That was - uncalled for.”

 “It’s a reflex. I get it.” And she did - she’d done the same thing countless times, had a hand on her sword and a barbed insult on her tongue without even thinking about it. 

 Another one of those fucked up things they had in common. 

 An uneasy silence settled between them, broken only by the rumbling hum of the engines, the thud of footsteps in the hall. 

 “I meant it, you know,” Harrow said, after a long moment. “About other options. It was a half - baked and immature attempt, but I wanted to give you an out if you were uncomfortable.”

 “Yeah, I know, my sepulchral sage. I appreciate it. Half - baked immaturity and all.” She bumped her shoulder gently against Harrow’s, then flopped back on the bunk to stare up at the low ceiling. “Are we, like, committing to honesty hour tonight? How deep into feelings do you want to get?”

 “As deep as is comfortable.”

 “That’s what she said.”

 “It’s a reasonable thing for her to say.”

 Another hush fell over them, marginally more comfortable than the last, as Gideon worried her lip between her teeth and counted the cracks in the ceiling above her. There were nine of them in total. Go fucking figure.

 A bony finger poked her in the side after a few cycles of counting. “Were you going to elaborate, or was that all just a set - up for one of your charming jokes?”

 “I can’t believe it took you eighteen years to finally admit that they’re charming, but no, that’s not why I said it. I’ll lay bare my tender squishy heart for you, penumbral lady. Because you asked so nicely.” 

  Because I think you might already have it. 

 No avoiding it now. Might as well bite the bullet and dive in. 

 “I was on board with the cuddle thing from the beginning, but I felt like you wouldn’t be, and I panicked. You probably already knew that because you’re way more creepily observant than you have any right to be, but there it is. Out in the open.” 

 She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just run away and hide from the other girl’s piercing gaze. “I just don’t want to fuck things up with you, Harrow. I feel like we’ve got a kind of good thing going now. You haven’t called me a useless halfwit in forever, and I haven’t called you a heinous bitch in forever, and I haven’t wanted to. That’s unheard of for us. I don’t want it to go away.”

 Her voice cracked, and the most damning words burst forth like flowers through concrete: “I don’t want to give you a reason to shut me out again.”

 The memories of those nine months flashed in fragmented mosaic through her mind - the slick stone walls of the well, the freezing churn of the water, the burn in her muscles as she desperately thrashed up toward the surface and reached for someone who didn’t even know she was there. The gut - wrenching loneliness that defined her entire fucking life coalescing in that pit of brackish darkness. The chant rattling on loop in her mind as the water pulled her under: Harrow, what happened, what did you do, why the fuck did you leave me here, I had a purpose, I threw myself on that goddamned rail for a reason, was that not enough for you? 

 Was I not enough for you?

 A cool, fine - boned hand laced with hers and squeezed, just once. The memories blurred. 

 “Gideon,” the voice that had haunted her all that time said. “You know - you have to know that isn’t why I did it.”

 “Why did you, then?”

 A tiny hitch of breath. A soft, almost incredulous laugh. Then:

 “Because I loved you.”

 The words hung heavy in the frozen air. 

 “You - what?”

 “I loved you.” She said it so simply. Like it was something she’d come to terms with long ago. “I loved you beyond reason, and for once in my life I wanted to do right by you and keep you safe as you did me. The motivation doesn’t justify a moment of it, I won’t pretend it does, and I can’t even begin to erase the hurt it caused you. But I need you to understand that it was never because of something you did wrong. You are good, darling. Good to the core. You always have been.”

 Bright spots bloomed before Gideon’s eyes as her reeling mind fought to catch up. Three thoughts sprang unbidden to the forefront:

 Mmf.

 And: Darling?

 And:

“Loved. You said ‘loved.’ Why the past tense?”

 She sat there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, half - expecting a don’t be presumptuous, Griddle or something even remotely normal, at least. What she got instead was another laugh, halting and shaky and suddenly deeply bitter. The hand in hers went rigid and drew away. 

 “I came to my senses. I remembered the countless awful things I’ve done. Saw myself for the leech that I am. I’ve taken and taken and taken from you, over and over again, torn away at your life like a scavenger, I can’t steal anything more  - “

 “Who said anything about stealing?”

 For the first time since the grand awkward commencement of honesty hour Gideon felt a genuine smile bloom across her face. “Come on, Nonagesimus, give me some credit. You honestly think I would have stuck around this long if I didn’t know what I was giving you? If I wasn’t getting something out of it too?”

 “What could you possibly be getting out of it?”

 “You. I like you. Like, a lot. More than I ever thought I would. And I know the brain weasels are going to start yammering about how that’s impossible, and you don't deserve it, and we've still got a mountain of baggage left to work through, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I really mean it. Having you with me has made this whole shitty thing infinitely less shitty."

 With a surge of sudden bravery and dizzy emotion, she reached out to take Harrow's hand again and, giving her ample time to pull away, pressed a feather - light kiss to the back. “If you want me here too, sunshine - as your cav or your friend or something else - then I'm not going anywhere."

 Harrow closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, and - smiled. A real one, slow and hesitantly sweet, lighting up her careworn face. "I need to think about it - we both should think about it. But I do want you here, in whatever way you want to be."

 "Yeah? Cool."

 "Cool."

 Silence settled upon them for the third time that night, but this time it was different. It was soft and tentative, fragile and new, like budding grave - flowers reaching for the sun. First flowers, the both of them, clawing up out of the grit and finding a way to bloom.

 "Should we go to sleep now?" Harrow asked at last, her rasping voice low and quiet. "It's getting late."

 "We probably should. Cam and Pal are gonna kill us if we're not up by 6:00 tomorrow. Are you still up for this, though? Like, the whole 'two girls, chilling in a military bunk, zero feet apart 'cause they're freezing and also maybe like each other' thing?"

 "Yes. On one condition."

 "Anything."

 "This might be difficult for you."

 "Seriously, Harrow, just tell me. Name it and it's done."

 "No sex jokes."

 She heaved a sigh, mock - exasperated and so stupidly fond. "As you wish, my dearest darling death omen. As you wish."

 It took a while to get comfortable - with Harrow's knobby elbows jabbing Gideon in the stomach, Gideon's clunky knee brace getting tangled in the sheets, the blankets collectively giving up and puddling on the floor at least ten times - but eventually, like everything else, they made it work. They fumbled through the sleep - cuddling confession with an admirable lack of panic on both sides, culminating in a firm agreement that they would let each other know the moment they were at all uncomfortable and an "I trust you" from Harrow so pure in its sincerity that it would be ringing through Gideon's mind for at least a myriad.

 Harrow was the first to fall asleep, curled up tight in a cocoon of black fabric, the dark crown of her head just barely brushing the sunburst scar on Gideon's chest. Her shallow breaths fell into an even, steady rhythm, interspersed with whistling snores that Gideon was definitely going to tease her about when her heart was less of a melted puddle of goo. 

 The minutes slipped by warm and slow as drops of honey as her own eyes grew heavier, fluttering closed. She gave her necromancer - her Lyctor - her beautiful baneful bone empress one last sleepy smile, and drifted off.

 (When Camilla went to shake her sparring partner awake the next morning, she found the two of them still sound asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. She huffed a laugh, muttered "finally," and let them be.)

#the locked tomb #tlt #locked tomb trilogy #griddlehark #angst and fluff and love confessions oh my! #the girls are trying to do right by each other and it's a bit of struggle but they're figuring it out

[taechaos]

I was totally not stalking your blog :D, and caem across this drabble of the notebook were Oc is insecure about her body ans how jk would react, and it was so ummm good?, amazing?, fantastic? and now im kinda wondering how that same situation would go but with Tae from the idea series, only if it is okay

oh thank you so much :DD ALSO I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED BC THIS IS RLY EXCITING 😫😫 love me a stalker tho

ps not proofread cuz its 5 am lOLLoL

Nights are dreadful. You've been having trouble sleeping for some time now, each day going to sleep a little later than the day before, and normally you'd be worried about your sleep schedule for when you eventually go off to college, but you're not. You dread the night because not only do you toss and turn until the sun rises, but because of the overthinking that comes with.

Your hormones are toying with you, from the self-deprecating thoughts to breaking out. If the blemishes and the scars aren't enough, you feel heavier. Normally, you wouldn't care so much for these factors because it's the cycle of life and mother nature, and usually there's no one around to judge you; but Taehyung is in your bed every night, and he sees you every day.

Now, you didn't use to care so much about Taehyung's thoughts about your appearance because he's your step-brother. That was until you began harboring some feelings for him due to a few turn of events, and well, now you're insecure and care about what he thinks. And he's around you all the time, so he's destined to judge you at some point.

These thoughts, along with the fact that you don't like yourself so much right now, are not helping. They're haunting, if anything, and you turn on your side in the dead of the night with Taehyung sleeping on the other end of the bed.

At least you thought he was until he smacked your hip over the blanket with a grumble. "Stop fucking moving, damn." He doesn't sound like he just woke up, instead his tone is alert and slightly irritated. Nights with you have been disastrous because he can't cuddle you from how many times you switch positions and the way you refuse affection. He's stopped himself from slapping you multiple times for whacking his hand away or your witty remarks. Such a bitch.

"Go to your own room then," you huff in a hushed voice and roll your eyes. Your back no longer faces him when he pulls on your shoulder, prompting you to look up at him with crossed arms. He's not impressed with his empty gaze; clearly tired after a busy day and still up at 4 AM. He props his elbow to lean his cheek on his fist.

"Are you afraid I'm going to fuck you in your sleep or something? That was a one time thing– okay, maybe more than once," he rolls his eyes when you look at him sarcastically with high brows and low lids, "but it's not like I'll do it again! I respect women and consent and all that good stuff now, so with this reassurance, let's fucking sleep already." He taps your cheek before throwing his arm over your chest and snuggling his face into your shoulder, his figure practically covering half of you. You don't move as he blows out a deep breath through his nose, clearly relaxed while you still have your eyes open.

A moment of silence passes, and Taehyung whose sense of time is greatly flawed, peeks an eye open to see if you're asleep after twenty seconds of waiting. "Are you awake?"

"No, Tae, I sleep with my eyes open," you spit and he immediately flicks your forehead with his finger. You whine at the sting. The sibling energy irks you when you think about his impact on your sleep schedule, and so on...

"No wonder you always look like a zombie nowadays," he sighs with a shake of his head before joking, "Ugly."

The only sensible reason as to why tears well up in your eyes instantly is that your period is approaching. That must be it, you convince yourself and purse your lips to stop the gradual trembling. It simply isn't the best time to joke about your appearance, because lately your heart intends to take everything so seriously. You hate your current sensitivity, but you can't exactly lower it on a scale.

So you just hold it in.

Taehyung waits for a response for a whole minute before squinting at your side profile. He can see another layer building up on your eye, and he holds himself up by his palm to get a closer look. "Are you good?"

When someone tries really hard to hold back tears, it's so easy for them to break down just by hearing the question: "Are you okay?" Taehyung isn't so empathetic in his approach, but the result is the same when you blink. It's 4 AM for God's sake, people play truth or dare after midnight for a reason. It feels just so intimate at this time, and you can't help the one sob that slips past your lips.

Your step-brother stares wide-eyed at you before bursting out in laughter. "Oh my God, don't tell me you're crying because I called you ugly?"

"Shut up," you demand with a wavering voice. Not the best time to be mocked either.

"Princess, I was kidding," he straddles you by sitting on your thighs to lean down, hands palming your flushed cheeks as he chuckles. "You cry so easily."

Taehyung is arguably either the worst or the best consolation by how he makes your sadness feel so out of place; stupid and worthless.

"I know I look like shit, okay?" you hiccup and slap his hands away to wipe your tears. "You don't have to be around me all the time if you find me so ugly. You know I'm insecure. Wh-why would you say that?"

He clicks his tongue and brushes away the hair strands sticking to your face. "Because I didn't know you'd be so offended by it. Princess, take a joke; I was just commenting on your eyebags. You look like a fucking raccoon."

Your cries get a little more heartwretching when you struggle to breathe over your hiccups and sobs. "You're so mean!" you cover the top of your face in shame. "Do you enjoy watching me cr-cry?"

"Kind of," he scratches the back of his head with a sheepish grin. Your sudden temporary silence makes him sweatdrop and avoid eye contact. "Okay, listen, no, I just don't feel bad about it. I mean I would be mad if someone else made you cry, but you're crying over a joke–"

"Just leave," you cut in with a sniffle. You stare at the ceiling as your lips fall into a hard line. Though you know you'll change your mind later, right now he's more toxic than you can bear. Every word he says cuts deep. "You're making it all worse."

"Okay, wait," he holds up his hand with a sigh. "Tell me what you're insecure about. Your body? I'm the only one who'll ever see it, so who gives a–"

"You called me ugly."

"You are gorgeous, okay?" he emphasizes each word and closes in on your face. "There is nothing I don't love about you. Ugh," he shivers, "didn't mean to sound romantic."

You're growing sleepy as the aftermaths of your breakdown, and you can only muster a chuckle at his genuine distress.

"Well, I already started, so I'll go full simp mode, your body is a temple, queen. Scratch that, you're my fucking goddess. I want to worship you, but someone's been too busy crying and staying up to notice my sexual frustration for the past week."

A laugh escapes you at his antics that you only get a glimpse of every now and then. You know he doesn't know how to comfort you or take care of you when you cry, but his humor works in his favor.

"By the way, I can't believe you didn't let me touch you," he scoffs. "I was going to start doing it in your sleep again, but you wouldn't even do that! Then you go around, bitching and whining about being ugly like a stupid girl."

"Stupid? I–"

He cuts you off by pressing his index finger on your lips. "Don't talk. You're pretty and sexy, especially when you cry. Let me do the thinking for you, stupid girl. Do one thing right and go to sleep, I'll take care of the rest."

#big brother tae strikes again #a Bully 😞 #idea tae #he thought he wouldnt do it again but the opportunity arose and he took it and somnophilia was back in his life #taehyung imagines

[ravenforce]

Stark Legacy V

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Wanda Maximoff x Maria Hill x Reader but Carol Danvers x Reader centric for this chapter.

Summary: Carol takes her motto to heart: higher, further, faster.

Word Count: 3515

A/N: I am so sorry for being on hiatus for the past few months but I’m back. I hope I did Carol justice on this one. Let me know what you guys think, please. xx

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4  | 6

***

You arrived bright early the day after you signed up to be the newest agent at SHIELD. You were just entering the command center when you bumped into your immediate supervisor, Deputy Director Hill. 

“Agent Stark-” The millisecond that it took her to glance at the watch behind you told you she wasn’t expecting you to be early again but Maria remembered she promised to stop having preconceived notions towards you based on her knowledge of your brother alone. She smiled genuinely. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning -” You hesitated. Maria motioned for you to follow her. 

“Agent Hill is fine.” Maria rounded a more secluded corner, you fell in-step with her. She eyed you sideways. “Maria when no one else is around.” 

You cocked your head to the side in silent question. Maria shrugged. “Can’t have other agents thinking I have favourites.” 

“You have favourites?” You asked teasingly. Maria stopped in front of a huge glass door with one side open to reveal the gym. 

“I do not.” You looked at her with bright eyes, and she knew you didn’t believe her. She rolled her eyes at you playfully. “I do however want to be your friend.” 

That stopped you from teasing her further and staring at her intently for a minute. “I would love that,” you said sincerely before walking deeper inside the gym. Maria watched you talk to some of Agent Colson’s team for a few minutes, making sure no one will give a weird treatment. 

“I think you might actually have a favourite.” 

Maria didn’t even flinch when she heard Carol’s voice behind her. “Oh shut up, I -” Carol cut her off by wrapping her arms around her waist and giving her a soft kiss on the cheeks. 

“You don’t have to explain your crush to me Mar,” Carol said while leaning her chin on Maria’s shoulder, watching you now too. “Besides if you explain, you’ll be late for your meeting with Nick.” 

Shit. She almost forgot. She immediately untangled herself from Carol’s arms and gave the blonde and quick kiss on the lips. “Keep her company will you?” 

“But I’m busy -” Carol tried to reason.

Maria who’s almost at the corner stopped to look at her girlfriend sternly. “You wouldn’t be here loitering around if you are.” Then she’s gone.

***

Being asleep for a long time, made you rusty when it comes to social interactions but not any less perceptive. You can feel everyone staring at you since you walked inside the gym, you can feel that people are wary of you. You guess, the word does travel fast. Thankfully some of the agents from Agent Colson’s team saw you and waved you over.

“Hey! We heard you’re officially on board,” Agent Simmons, you remembered, said cheerfully.

“Welcome to the fam,” Leo greeted sincerely. You smiled softly, “thank you.”

“Are you here to train?” Agent May asked.

“Yes but no one wants to train with an inhuman.” You hide the awkwardness with a smile, subconsciously waiting for someone to flinch.

“Ugh,” Agent Grant moaned. “Would totally want to spar with you-”

“Me too but we’re about to go on duty,” Leo interjected.

“Next time,” you said with a smile. You like this team, they’re all nice and genuinely warm. Colson’s team was just about to exit the gym when Carol walks in.

“I’ll spar with you.” Everyone stopped and stared as the blonde continued to walk towards you with the confidence and swag only an Avenger can muster. “Unless you’re scared.”

You let out a full belly laugh, cutting Carol off. Instead of being offended, she was enthralled by how realistic it sounded. She wanted to hear it again. More importantly, out of the blue, she wants to be at the least one of the reason for you to laugh again.

“You’re on, Captain,” you said hopping on the mat with her.

***

Carol looked you up and down unabashed. Had you been fully human, you would have blushed with the way she checks you out openly. You cleared your throat to gain her attention. “Rules?” you asked with a confident smirk to hide your nerves.

“No weapons of any kind.”

“That’s it?” you asked while wrapping a bandage around your knuckles. You didn’t really have to but it gives you some sense of normalcy.

Carol shrugged. “Too many rules take the fun out of everything,” she said cheerfully.

You chuckled, making Carol cock her eyebrow at you. “I guess that makes you the fun one, huh?”

Carol made a lightning-fast move to cover your mouth. “Don’t let them hear you say that,” she whispered while pretending to look around for her girlfriends.

You rolled your eyes playfully before, in an equally fast move, you threw Carol down the mat. Carol gaped at you from the floor for a minute before breaking into a grin. You offered her a hand but instead of getting up, she pulled you down with her and rolled around until she pinned you in the mat. You groaned and it took a little longer than usual to shrug Carol off of you.

“Not bad, Stark. Where’d you learn how to fight?” Carol asked smiling while you two circle each other.

“Tony insisted that I take lessons before I started school.” You blocked a heavy punch to the side of your face. “He said I’m not allowed to use my inventions on other kids, so I’d have to learn how to protect myself another way.”

“Smart,” Carol commented unnecessarily since everyone knew Tony’s beyond smart; he was a genius.

You kept attacking each other with unrestrained force, rendering the rest of the agents who were doing their morning routines to stop working out completely. You caught a glimpse of the little audience gathering at the edge of the mat from your peripheral, distracting your momentarily. Carol used the opportunity to land a heavy blow on your left cheek.

An audible crack can be heard from the stillness of the room, followed by a collective gasp.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Carol worried. “I’m so sorry. I got carried away.”

Carol chewed at her bottom lip when you wouldn’t lift your head and meet her eyes. Then you started giggling. “Y/N?” She asked softly.

Carol’s forehead crinkled adorably in confusion. You silently thank the universe for being inhuman because had you been otherwise, you surely would have been vomiting blood by now. You’re also thankful that Tony used only the best materials available in the world for you shell because had any of it been subpar, you’re sure that your cheeks or even your whole skull would have cracked.

Then you looked up at Carol with a smile. “Again,” you said while going on a fighting stance.

You used Carol’s hesitation to launch an attack. Carol struggled at first, overwhelmed by her momentary worry and the sudden increase in your speed and strength. Carol smiled realizing that she just found someone she can spar without holding back. Before she can retaliate though, Maria’s voice cut through the room.

“Enough you two,” she said calmly. You and Carol immediately dropped your fighting stance to regard Agent Hill. You just noticed then that Carol’s heaving, you bite the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling. “Agent Stark, clean up and meet me at the command centre after lunch.”

You nodded before thanking Carol for her time and hopping off the mat. “Spar again, soon?” Carol asked hopefully before you can exit the room. You just smiled at her and nodded. The rest of the morning stragglers went on their way to the showers to clean up as well, leaving Carol and Maria alone.

When everyone was out, Maria threw a towel to her blonde girlfriend’s face. “Just how long were you two at it?”

Carol grinned before sitting down. “Around after you left,” she answered before chugging down a bottle of water.

“Four hours?” Maria nearly yelled in her surprise.

“I guess.”

Maria stared at her girlfriend for a while. None of the Avengers ever trained with Carol that long, not even Natasha. Her surprise turns into a warm smile as she watches Carol smiling softly to herself.

“Oh Mar, she’s amazing!” Carol can’t stop herself from gushing about your strength, your fighting techniques, and your elegance. “Dare I say, she’s as elegant and deadly as Natasha.”

Maria smiled, wondering what Nat would feel if she heard Carol say that. She listened intently and patiently as Carol talk her head off about you all the way to her office where they’re supposed to eat lunch together.

“What?” Carol asked after she sat across Maria’s massive table. Maria opened multiple food containers in front of them.

She looked up at Carol. “I’m not giving her up to The Avengers,” Maria declared confidently.

Carol’s smile was wicked. “Not yet,” she challenged.

“We’ll see about that.”

***

Ever since the first time you two sparred, Carol always finds an excuse to go to the HQ to train with you. You really don’t mind, spending time with Carol, albeit just in the mat, is surely always fun. Captain Marvel is fun. She’s a perfect combination of chill yet intense when need be. She’s also ridiculously flirty, which you chuck as just within her nature and not because she’s actually attracted to you. 

But most especially, the reason why you absolutely love spending time with Carol was that she doesn’t treat you any differently. Some of the agents at work are either too polite because you’re a Stark or too aloof because you’re inhuman. You appreciate her and Maria for making you feel a certain degree of normalcy, and more importantly, they make you feel like you belong. So when Carol showed up at the Stark Tower on your day off, you welcomed her with a bright smile. 

“Hello Captain, what do I owe the pleasure?” You voice heavy with teasing. Carol tried not to think too much about the way you said the word pleasure but by the growing smirk on your face, she knew she wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding how that simple word made her hot all over.

She cleared her throat before speaking up. “I bumped into Happy at HQ and he told me that today’s your day off,” she trailed off a little when you closed the hood of your car and stood beside it, revealing your choice of outfit for the day. You watched her take in your simple grey shirt, denim mini skirt, and black boots. You cleared your throat, and you chuckled when she visibly shook her head to clear her thoughts. “I was just wondering if you want to do something fun today?” 

You wiped the grease from your hand using a dry towel before walking up to the blonde. You stopped a foot away, making Carol sweat unnecessarily. “I would but you have to be honest with me first,” you whispered, holding her beautiful hazel eyes. 

“Always.” 

“Did you really bump into Happy or were you looking for me today?” 

“Shit. Happy snitched on me, didn’t he?” Carol groaned, making you laugh. Carol crossed her arm and pouted. 

“Do I need to change for where we’re going?” You asked walking pass the blonde to go inside your suite. Carol turned just in time to have a perfect view of your ass in denim mini skirt. You laughed again, having perfectly timed your walk. 

“Yes, change to your Phantom suit.” 

That made you pause and turn back to her. Carol shrugged with a huge smile on her face, not giving you any clue at all to where she’s taking you. 

***

You gaped at Carol when you landed on her idea of fun. You took your suit’s helmet to have a better, unobstructed view of your surroundings.

“No fucking way,” you said in pure excitement while moving in circles to take in everything.

“It’s not much now since it’s been abandoned for a long time but -”

Carol didn’t get to finish her sentence before you cut her off by jumping at her and giving her a tight hug. Carol wished to whatever higher entity there is out there for you not to hear or feel how hard her heart was beating in her chest at the way you feel against her arms.

“Are you kidding me?” You still didn’t extricate yourself from her. “You brought me to a freaking space station.”

Carol chuckled. “Abandoned space station,” she corrected with a smile.

This time you untangled your arms from around her, much to Carol’s disappointment. “Semantics,” you said before walking ahead. Carol watched you look at everything with childlike wonder. “I never thought I’d ever been able to step in one.”

“Oh don’t be modest, given your intelligence and credentials, you totally could,” she countered earnestly.

“Maybe but I like working at SHIELD.”

“Why?” Carol asked. Not because doesn’t think you’re fit for the job but because she’s genuinely curious. You can be anywhere in the world, yet you chose to stay and sign a contract with SHIELD.

You run your fingers across the decaying console on the main deck before looking ahead, into the stars before turning back towards Carol, with your ass and hands resting on the edge of the table. “I can protect the people I love better with SHIELD than all alone.”

“The people you love?” Carol stepped closer to you.

“Pepper, Morgan, Happy…” you paused to watch Carol inch closer to you some more. “…and my friends: you, Nat, Maria.”

“Are we friends, Y/N?”

You tried to hide it but you visibly gulped at her proximity. “Aren’t we?” you asked, lips curling into a soft smirk.

For the past few months, this has been your dynamics with Carol: playful banter and harmless flirting. You’re used to it by now but the longer it goes on, the harder it is to ignore your growing attraction to the blonde. Which would be totally fine, if she’s single but you have to remind yourself every day that she’s not.

Carol had to step back too to ground herself. She’s moving too fast, she knows it. She knew she had other people to consider too. Apart from Maria who’s obviously on the same boat as her, she hasn’t really talked to Nat and Wanda about her attraction towards you. She knew Maria hasn’t mentioned anything yet either because it’s too early.

“We are,” she whispered.

“Good, I’d really like that.”

Before Carol can say anything, her stomach grumbled loudly. She turned beet red while you started laughing. Just like that the tense atmosphere’s gone. You took her hand and led her back to the ship. “Thank you for taking me here, Carol but I think it’s time to go home.”

Carol’s relishing the feeling of your hand in hers when her stomach protested again. She joined in when you started laughing again. “I don’t need to be told twice,” she grumbled playfully before pulling you to a run.

***

Carol walked into the command centre after her appointed meeting with Nick to see if Maria wants to grab lunch together. She faltered on her step when she saw the worried face Maria was sporting.

“Hey-” Carol greeted cautiously. Maria turned back and gave her a quick smile.

“Hey. Meeting’s over already?”

Carol ignored the question and stood next to her girlfriend. “What’s wrong?”

Maria’s eyebrows crinkled together further. “Nothing,” she whispered before turning to the monitors in front of her. Carol was just about to ask where you are since you’ve been working closely with Maria since you started a couple of months ago when Carol saw your name on the board.

Suddenly, she understood why Maria look worried. “Why is Y/N out with Agent Colson’s team?” Carol tried to hide the concern in her voice but Maria knew better.

Maria sat in her swivel chair. “They’re down one person for today’s recon mission. Nick decided she’s ready for fieldwork,” Maria sighed.

Carol took a deep breath. She knows that you can very much handle yourself out there but it doesn’t mean they can’t be worried.

“She’ll be fine.” Carol and Maria looked behind them. They’ve been so engrossed in worrying about you, they didn’t even hear Happy approached.

“Need I remind you that she’s a Stark?” Happy asked smiling. Carol chewed on her bottom lip. “Besides, she trained with only the best around here.”

That made Carol and Maria relax a little. “She will be fine,” they both murmured to themselves before their phones simultaneously lit up with a message from Natasha, asking them to meet them in town for a quick lunch.

***

Carol was having a quick trip off-world to check on a nearby planet when she received a message from Nick. She left a sizeable crater on the lawn of the HQ when she landed, almost knocked down a wall, and almost took off the door from its hinges in hurry to get to you. Carol’s heartache when she saw you on a hospital gown, lying side by side with a sleeping Maria.

“Hey,” you whispered as not to wake up the agent beside you.

“Hi,” Carol greeted back. She wanted to move towards you but her knees felt like lead as the adrenaline leaves her body. “You’re safe -”

You smiled sheepishly. “I’m so -”

Carol cut your apology off by nearly tackling you and Maria out of the bed. “Settle down, Carol. She’s alright. She’s home now,” Maria grumbled, cuddling next to you further; face buried in your neck.

Carol looked at her sleeping girlfriend “I think the repair stressed the living daylight out of Maria,” you whispered, squished between the two women.

“You think?” Carol hopped on the bed, squishing herself on your other side. “She’s been worried since you left for the mission.”

“I’m sorry. It was an ambush,” you started to explain but Carol started snoring softly with one arm and leg swung over your body cut your explanation off.

You were smiling to yourself when Natasha entered the room with a quietness that only the Black Widow can do. Your eyes met, Natasha looked a little conflicted. “Shouldn’t you be the one sleeping?” she asked teasingly.

You shrugged with a smile. You patted your lap. “You look like you can use a nap too,” you said softly.

Carol and Maria opened their eyes momentarily to look at their redhead girlfriend, and together they patted your lap before resuming their previous sleep position.

#carol danvers x reader #captain marvel x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #maria hill x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlett witch x reader #carolnat x reader x wandahill #carolnat #blackhill #unholy pentagon #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlette witch imagine #raven writes

[mochirou]

a fun holiday break

krbk

masterlist

•♡•

tags: getting together, sickfic, hurt/comfort(?)

tw (unintentional) dehydration and starving

A/N: this was in my drafts and i realized i never posted it. yes i am aware this is very very self indulgent and i’m only slightly sorry

•♡︎•

“Yo, has anyone seen Bakugo lately? He disappeared like… right after Christmas. It’s been two days.” Kaminari tilted his head questioningly, making eye contact with some of the other students sitting in the common room. Everyone gave him shrugs and noncommittal noises, clearly not that concerned about it.

“It’s nice around here without him, no yelling. Dunno about you guys, but I like my winter break better when he’s not here.” Mineta punctuated his statement by popping a candy in his mouth, and the rest of the class fell silent. Some looked at Kirishima nervously, who had definitely heard what Mineta said. He was staring out the window blankly. He didn’t even react, he just pressed his lips together tighter.

“I’m checking on him, don’t wait for me.” As he said that, quiet conversation started back up, and the tension was relieved when he stormed out of the common room.

When he stepped into his dorm room, he didn’t see Bakugo. His bed was unmade and it was a total mess, blankets piled up haphazardly. Weird, he doesn’t like leaving his bed like that. Thinks only lazy people don’t keep their rooms clean. He moved further in to check if he was in the bathroom, but was stopped short by a weak snarl coming from under the blanket pile.

“Bakugo?” He crept closer to the bed, hyper aware of the fact that he might’ve wanted to be alone, in which case he was intruding.

“Get the fuck outta my room, asshole.” His reply was barely audible and watery, as if he’d been crying before he walked in.

“Not until I know you’re alright. You haven’t come downstairs to get food, have you even eaten since I last saw you?”

“None of your goddamn business, Kirishima.” He let out a quiet sob, and the blanket mound shifted a little. He still couldn’t see Bakugo, so he moved to sit on the floor at the head of his bed. His face was the only thing exposed, and it was deathly pale and sweat covered. His face was twisted in a half-grimace with his eyes closed, and he was violently shaking under the covers.

“Holy shit dude, are you okay?” Kirishima went to feel his forehead on instinct, and he didn’t even flinch or try to bat his hand away. He just squeezed his eyes shut further, and made a whimpering noise at him.

“You’re ice cold, why haven’t you gone to Recovery Girl?”

“...On vacation, remember? Just… go away.” He then pulled his face into the sheets.

“I’ll be right back.” Kirishima quickly walked out the door, disappearing in a flash.

When he came back, he was holding a thermos of pot roast and a glass of water. He set the things he brought on the nightstand, and he saw that he’d poked his face out.

“I’m not leaving till you eat.” He sat back down in his spot on the floor, and Bakugo opened his eyes to see what he’d brought.

“No.”

“Why not? I’ve seen you eat this before, and you… uh… didn’t say it was shit, so I assumed you at least tolerate it. What’s up?” Kirishima tilted his head questioningly at him, and edged a bit closer. His stomach growled loudly, enough for him to hear.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and started struggling to sit up with a grunt of effort, but his arm gave out on him and he flopped back onto the bed.

“I’m so fucking pathetic, can’t even do this.” He instead opted to curl up into a ball and dry sob.

“Um… When’s the last time you drank anything?” Kirishima made a concerned face, and scooched even closer to the side of the bed, until he wasn’t even a step away from it.

“How… How long have I been away?” He glanced at the clock, as if that’d give him a clue to what day it was.

“Have you not gotten up once since you laid down?” Kirishima gasped, almost sounding offended.

“No… No energy.” He stuttered, shaking his head slightly.

“Not even to go to the bathroom?”

“Haven’t needed to.”

Oh shit, he’s dehydrated, he thought. I need to get him to drink some water right now.

“That’s it.” Kirishima stood up suddenly at that.

“What the fuck-“ He had started crawling over Bakugo, to the side against the wall.

“Can I?” He gestured to the thick layer of blankets that he was kneeling on, asking permission to join him under them. He huffed at him, but he didn’t say no, so he pulled off the hoodie he was wearing. He didn’t have a shirt underneath, and a little bit of color returned to Bakugo’s face.

“Jesus Christ, I’m- What’s that for, idiot?” He growled weakly.

“I’m warming you up, you can’t feel my body heat as well through a hoodie.” He pulled a particularly fluffy blanket off the top of the pile, and wrapped it around himself.

“I’m gonna put you on my lap and help you sit up, that okay?” He didn’t respond but Kirishima knew that if he didn’t want to, he’d say so. He peeled back the sheets, exposing his shivering body, and picked him up so he could move to sit with his legs over the side of the bed.

Then Kirishima pulled Bakugo into his lap, and immediately started spooning him from behind. He wrapped the blanket around him, making sure to close up all the gaps, and rested his chin on his shoulder. When he pulled him closer, he involuntarily shuddered at how cold he was. He could feel it through Bakugo’s thin tank top and boxers, and they were slightly damp with sweat. He was shaking violently, but as Kirishima’s body heat seeped into him, it slowly stopped.

“D’you wanna try drinking some water now? I’ll hold you up, you’ll be okay.” Kirishima gently squeezed around his torso, shuffling up the bed till he was within reach of the things he brought.

“Um… yeah… thanks.” His voice got quieter with each word, and he could barely hear the last ‘thanks’. Kirishima was stunned by the change in demeanor. Normally he would say something like “I’m not a kid, stop patronizing me, asshole”, but he accepted his help without complaint. He leaned over to reach for the glass, then handed it to Bakugo. He took a mouthful of water and swished it around for a second before swallowing, then he chugged the entire glass in one go.

“Want me to go get more water?” Bakugo nodded wordlessly, so he moved him off his lap and got up.

“Heh, try not to miss me too much.” Bakugo simply fell over in response, and he went on his way to get water. He stopped by his room first, to grab the large bottle he brings with him when he trains. Midoriya stopped him to ask if everything was okay, but he just waved him off and said it was fine.

When he returned, he came back to Bakugo with his face buried in his hoodie. He was half asleep with his eyes closed, and making small satisfied noises whenever he inhaled. God, he’s so adorable… That was all he was thinking while he watched him from the doorway, spotting a small but genuine smile on his face. He was sure that he didn’t know he was there, and he decided to save him the embarrassment. He walked quietly to the end of the hallway, then purposely stepped heavily to alert him that he was coming. Sure enough, when he poked his head back in, his hoodie was (vaguely) in the same place he left it.

“Hey, Bakugo, I got you more water…” He put it down next to the food, and then sat back on the edge of the bed. Bakugo stayed laying down but moved his head near Kirishima’s hip, so he could pick him up easier.

“Can you get up yourself?”

“Yeah, fuck off.” He then propped himself up shakily, Kirishima wrapped his arms around his torso, and lifted him into a sitting position on his lap. He re-wrapped them in a thick blanket, then pulled Bakugo’s back flush against his chest.

“Mm… Warm…” Bakugo mumbled sleepily, and relaxed against him.

“I put the food in a thermos, so it should still be hot.” Kirishima handed it to him, and stayed silent while he ate. It was gone within a couple of minutes, he ate and drank like he hadn’t eaten in days (which, coincidentally, was what had happened).

“Wanna watch a movie?” Kirishima eyed Bakugo’s laptop that was sitting on his desk, while he finished off the food.

“What fuckin’ ever, do what you want. ‘M tired.” He leaned back on Kirishima with his entire body weight, relaxing completely against him.

“...Dude, I need to get up. To put on the movie.”

“Sounds like an iss-you, not an iss-me.” Kirishima made a complaining noise at that, and he reluctantly laid down and moved off. It took a couple minutes to pick a movie, he settled for some random American movie, dubbed in Japanese.

“Hey, why don’t you have a password on here? Isn't that unsafe?”

“People don’ touch it if they know what’s good for ‘em.” After pressing play, he moved back to the bed, and sat down on the edge.

It took a bit before Kirishima realized that Bakugo was still shaking, and making quiet whimpering noises. He didn’t want to push his luck and risk setting him off, especially since he was probably feeling a bit more like his usual self. He was sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting for the eventual “get the fuck out of my room” he was expecting.

“Uh… Are you… okay?” He asked tentatively, with the least patronizing tone he could muster.

“It’s kinda cold in here, ‘M fine.” He pulled his blanket pile up further on his body, and looked straight ahead at the movie playing on his laptop.

Shit, how do I get him to accept help?

“Yeah, I’m cold too. Can I have one of your blankets?” He said in a sly tone of voice, and prayed that Bakugo had picked up on what he was trying to do.

“Fuck no, you crazy? As if. I guess we could share. Y’know, so I don’t have to give up any blankets.” He accompanied the sentence with an eye roll. That was all the invitation Kirishima needed, and he slid himself under the sheets with him. Bakugo immediately turned around and pushed Kirishima onto his back, then settled his body against him with a contented sigh. He rested his head right on his chest, and tangled their legs together. They were sitting up at an angle, with the pillows supporting Kirishima’s back.

“Um… Bakugo…” Kirishima stammered, taken by surprise by his sudden pushy affection. Bakugo was silent for a couple of seconds, lost in thought about something. Kirishima snaked his hands in under his arms and around his torso, and he made a small noise of happiness.

“Actually, it’s Katsuki for you now. Uh… If you want to. It’s whatever, do what you want.” He lifted his head up to look at Kirishima nervously. What he saw was a bright red face, and wide eyes.

“I… You can call me Eijiro, too. I’d like that.” He managed to get through the entire sentence without messing up, and he thanked whatever higher power was watching over him at the moment.

“Katsuki…” The way he said it was almost reverent, his voice laden with quiet awe. He made eye contact with him, and gave him a small smile.

“Eijiro…” He shifted up a little so they were at eye level, and he was sitting on his lap. He rested one of his hands in the crook of his neck, and pressed their foreheads together.

“Kiss me.”

Their first kiss was soft and sweet and slow, both of them taking their time. The movie was long forgotten, in favor of lazily making out. Kirishima’s hands found their way to Bakugo’s back, running fingers lightly over his skin. The feeling made him whine into the kiss, and squeeze Kirishima’s hips in appreciation.

“That feels good,” He mumbled against Kirishima’s lips. His body went weak, and he melted against him with a little “mmph” noise. That just encouraged him to kiss harder, giving him a tight hug around the waist.

“‘M gettin’ tired…” At that, Bakugo pressed one last kiss to Kirishima’s mouth, and settled back down onto his chest.

“Your skin’s so soft,” He muttered quietly. He pushed his face into him a little and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating off him.

“God, you’re cute.” As soon as Kirishima said that, he stiffened, clearly not meaning to say that out loud. Bakugo just hummed contentedly in response.

He was only paying a little bit of attention to the movie. It was some old superhero flick, from the time before quirks started manifesting. The guy could shrink and control ants or something, for all Bakugo knew. Kinda weird, in his opinion. But he was safe, loved, comfortable, with someone he trusts taking gentle care of him.

...Kinda sucks that I had to be fuckin’ miserable as shit to get here, though.

That was the last thought he had before he finally stopped fighting his exhaustion, letting the warmth and Kirishima’s breathing lull him to sleep.

•♡︎•

A/N: watch kiri catch whatever bakugo has and get sick as hell from that kiss, then get called an idiot by bakugo even though it was his idea

masterlist • more hurt/comfort

taglist: @friendly-neighborhood-pan @burn-the-witch-now @koifishkiss @plusultrachaos @sillysaladtrash @demumbrigde @worst-bunny @nebula--system @neko-mancy @rxtprince

feel free to ask to be added/removed from the taglist!

#kiribaku #krbk #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #fluff #hurt/comfort #mochirou writes

[i-lionheart]

IT'S NOT A WIP ANYMORE BITCHES!!!!!

Ok so i wrote a fic that's basically this post by the-modern-typewriter but i took the concept and some main elements and rewrote it as a kylo ren self insert because of course i did i wanted a comfort fic and i refuse to apologize its not plagiarism i cited my sources k thx

anyways this is a Kylo ren x fem!reader (but the only time reader's gender is referenced as when they're referred to as "good girl" so make of that what you will). Angst, torture mention, self harm tw, suicide tw, depression tw, safe for work but implicit nudity. Also there's none of that "y/n" or (name) shit because I just personally hate it. I made this for me not you but it totally fukin slaps so read on at your own risk lmao

Tell Me Why

“You’ve been astonishingly resilient,” Ren said softly. “What a shame it has to come to this.”

His gaze roamed over you lazily, possessively, drinking in the sight of you. You were bound, gagged, and strapped down to an interrogation table. In his personal quarters, of all places.

You would trade every star in the galaxy to be anywhere but here.

Ren picked up a syringe full of clear, thick liquid off the tray of wicked-looking instruments that lay beside you and held it in front of your eyes. “I’m expect you’re quite familiar with this," he said, voice deceptively casual. "The resistance undoubtedly trained you to resist truth serum as insurance against the unthinkable. Obviously,” he said, indicating your current predicament, “They are fools.”

So it would be truth serum. You could handle this easily enough. All you had to do was tell him the truth, but not the one he was looking for. Simple.

Some miniscule change in your expression must have given your hubris away. Ren chuckled. “You poor thing.” he said. “Do you really think that we haven’t made… improvements on this since my grandfather held your precious General captive so long ago?”

You swallowed thickly, blood pounding through your temples as your breath caught in your throat. What could he possibly be talking about? Truth serum had been perfected in the days of Old Republic and hadn’t changed for centuries.

What advantage could he possibly hope to have?

Ren lowered his face until his eyes were level with yours. Though every fiber of your being screamed at you to look away, you met his gaze, trembling.

“You know as well as I do that the Old Republic, the Jedi, were weak. Fools,” he spat. “They were afraid to do what was truly necessary to meet their goals. The First Order has no such weaknesses.”

He lowered his mouth and whispered rapidly in your ear, his breath ghosting along your skin. “Unfortunately for you, I am not a Jedi, and this will hurt quite a bit. I only wish that I could remove that gag and hear every shriek that comes out of that pretty little mouth without risking you biting off your own tongue.” He clucked his tongue softly as he stood up. “What a shame.”

He replaced the syringe on the tray and selected a small pair of medical scissors, then began to methodically cut through the fabric of your sleeve. "I would apologize for the outfit," he said sardonically, "but I rather suspect that you have much bigger things to be worrying about at the moment."

Once your sleeve was split all the way to your elbow, Ren set the scissors down and set his leather-clad fingers to the task of spreading the halved fabric of your sleeve to fully reveal your bare skin. He was agonizingly gentle, as though trying to spread the petals of a struggling flower and help it bloom.

His work complete, his eyes and his fingers roved over your exposed arm, relishing your vulnerability. If you weren't paralyzed with fear, you would have squirmed, thrashed, done anything to flee his scrutiny.

Force, please, you thought desperately, don't let him see them. Please, anything but that. I'll give anything. Let him do what he wishes to me as long as they go unnoticed. Please.

As though sensing your frantic pleas, Ren's eyes locked onto your wrist, onto the unnaturally straight cuts and scars criss crossing your skin.

"What is this?" he said softly.

Shit.

It was the last straw. The spell of fear holding you in place broke. You twisted your arm as far as you could in the restraints, trying to hide what it was far too late to conceal. Instantly his hand shot out and pinned your wrist to the table as you writhed in his grasp.

"You know as well as I do that you cannot take back what has been revealed. The mynock is out of the bag, little one. Are you going to lie still, and let me finish what your own foolish actions have started? Or am I going to have to make you?"

Realizing it was of no use, that you were absolutely, utterly powerless, you stopped thrashing. Tears glistened on your cheeks. Your breath hitched as choked sobs pushed their way past your gag. You fought for every inhale and exhale, lungs crushed under the weight of your own rising panic.

But bewilderingly, inexorably, you were still.

"Good girl," he breathed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand from your wrist. When you remained motionless, even without his grip holding you to the table, his hands moved to your elbow and, abandoning those damn scissors, he began to finish what he had started.

He tore first one sleeve, then the other, and made short work of everything else until you were laid bare before him. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Kylo Ren's eyes roved over you, taking in every mark, every scar, every bruise on your bare skin. You wanted to fight it so badly, wanted twist yourself away from his agonizing scrutiny, but all you could do was shut your eyes and pray for it to be over. His burning gaze held you immobile like the galaxy's most powerful vice.

"I know what marks I've left on this body, little one," he said, voice unbearably tender. "I know what scars one gets from doing what we do. But this-" his fingers brushed your wrists, your thighs, your torso, tracing the bar code that you had marked yourself with in so many places- "this is not that." His voice, though still intolerably gentle, was taut, hinting at the tightly leashed rage that you could feel bubbling just below his deceptively calm exterior.

For so long, you had been terrified that someone would find out, would ask an unavoidable question, would see something they shouldn't have because you slipped up.

You hadn't expected it to be him.

What the hell was he going to do to you?

After another excruciating moment of consideration, he reached up and unbuckled the gag, carefully sliding it out from between your teeth and setting it on the tray beside the scissors and abandoned syringe. You worked your jaw, gratefully bringing a bit of relief to your sore muscles and parched mouth. You were so tired. So, so tired, too physically and psychologically exhausted to care what happened to you anymore. You had already been on this table for an eternity too long. Let him get what he wanted from you and finally, at long last, leave you for dead.

"What is it?" he asked evenly. "Control? Punishment? Or something else?"

Your eyes snapped open, wide with fear and shock, only to find your gaze locked together with his.

"What?" The word came out of your mouth in a grating, dry rasp.

"You heard me," he said. "Why do you do it?"

How dare he. How dare he. The absolute nerve he had, to strap you to a table you and torture you endlessly, and then find out about this and pretend that he cared.

"Fuck off," you said.

"That's no answer."

"You don't even care." You glanced away, eyes flooded with silent tears that you were too embarrassed about to let him see. "No one does."

You flinched as you felt a leather glove hand touch you, then realized that he was caressing your face. Stroking your hair. Comforting you, exactly where you needed it. Holding you like your mother did, so long ago. Touching you the way you had been starving for for so long.

How could he possibly know what you needed so desperately, much less be doing it of his own accord? What happened to him?

You finally mustered up the courage to look back at him, despite the blinding tears and your fear of what you might see. When you finally wrenched your gaze up to meet his, you were shocked by what you saw.

Pity. Concern. Genuine worry. Anger, not at you, but at the people who watched you spiral so far down and did nothing.

All this he told you with his eyes alone.

How was this possible? Stars' sake, he was your enemy. He hated you. So why was he looking at you like he was trying to offer you a lifeline when he was supposed to want you dead?

"Why are you doing this to me?" you whispered.

"Answer me," he said quietly, "And I'll stop."

You took a rattling breath in, and shut your eyes.

You had no choice.

"It's everything," you said softly. "The control. The punishment. All of it." You opened your eyes again and looked back at him as a sob built in your throat. "It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

---

"It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

The words hit Kylo like a dagger to the heart.

So that was why you had never acted on the desires he sensed in you, why you wanted to join him so badly but rejected his offers at every turn. That was why, when he offered you his hand, his teaching, his service, a position by his side, you almost took it before you wrenched yourself away. The Resistance never understood you, saw you as nothing more than a tool for a job. And you didn't think you deserved the what he could provide.

The sobs he had watched you struggle against for so long finally spilled past your lips in a tidal wave. He shushed you as one would a frightened animal, brushed away your tears with his thumb, and quickly undid the restraints at your ankles and wrist. He slid his arms under you and lifted you as easily as though you were a child, one arm under your legs to support your weight, the other pressing your head to his chest as you sobbed, the Force supporting you where he couldn't.

"Easy now," he said, voice low and soothing. "Easy, easy, easy- there we go, come on, come on, there's a good girl. I've got you. I've got you. You're safe now. You're safe. Good girl, come with me. Come with me, now."

He kept up the constant stream of reassurances as he carried you to his bed, holding you with one arm and the Force as he pulled back the covers with the other before setting you in the bed. He kicked off his boots and slid in beside you, pulling you close to his chest, telling you what you had needed to hear for so long.

You were going to be okay, he told you. He promised. Vowed to keep you by his side and give you everything he had to offer, fulfill your every need.

He'd give you the galaxy, if you asked for it. But all you needed was him.

The two of you stayed there until your sobs subsided, his hand absently stroking your hair, your tears soaking his shirt. Neither of you said anything, but you both knew.

You were finally where you belonged. And you were here to stay.

#kylo ren #star wars #kylo x reader #kylo x you #kylo x y/n #kylo imagine #torture mention #sh tw #implied nudity #power dynamics #tw depression #tw suicide #ask to tag #or dm to tag that works too #idk what this is but i like it #fuck it

[lennydaisy]

SWAN SONG || The Walking Dead AU || CHAPTER ONE.

‘You have to trust that every friendship has no end, that a communion of saints exists among all those, living and dead, who have truly loved God and one another.

You know from experience how real this is.  Those you have loved deeply and who have died live on in you,  not just as memories but as real presences.’

HENRI NOUWEN

                        The Walking Dead.

       Season 1-?

                                        FEM OC! and ?

Enjoy :) and here is the link to the PROLOGUE!

College. Something I never went to. Sure the thought was there. The ideas to get my diploma and possibly becoming a doctor sounded like a great idea. Until I hit senior year of high school. That was when I realised that maybe I'm not meant for school. Sitting in a classroom wasn't my ideal cup of tea, but I stuck it through high school because I was determined to not become a high school drop out.

When I was in high school it was as though everybody had already figured out what they were going to when they took their first steps into the big, bad world. I was never like that. I left high school and I felt lost. I had no clue what I wanted to do. I convinced myself that I was a disappointment to my family because everybody instantly knew what career path they wanted to pursue and I didn't.

I felt that way until I joined the police academy, a year after I left high school. I was in a real slump, applying to anything and everything, I wasn't getting anywhere until Ally suggested the police force. I instantly declined, not believing that I had any chance of making it. I wasn't the most physically active, any chance I got to skip gym class I grabbed with two hands, but the Police Academy was tempting. I wanted to challenge myself and also prove to all the people who thought I couldn't do it wrong.

And I'm glad I did. Joining the P.D was by far the best decision I made in my life. I found myself as a person. I went from being this shy, delicate flower to an independent and determined individual.

Just because I didn't go to college doesn't mean I didn't experience what's it's like to be a typical college student. I attend my fair share of parties, not that I enjoyed them but I still went to please Corey who didn't want to go alone because apparently, that's embarrassing. Aside from the parties, I don't understand why people stick it through college, sure a degree is a good excuse but honestly is any college student happy? Judging by the faces passing by my car the answers no.

My mind is still on autopilot from what had happened not even a half-hour ago. The scene still vivid in my mind, like a record, stuck on repeat, it won't leave me alone. Maybe if I hadn't rushed her out the door then she would still be here, at home with her husband, happy. Her husband. I've ruined a family-

My thoughts being abruptly stopped by the sound of knuckles furiously knocking on the only rolled up window. Moving my drooping eyes to the source only to be met by the slightly annoyed face of my sister Cora. Leaning over to push down the lock, I'm smacked in the face with the humid Atlanta heat.

"About time, I've been knocking for five minutes," she exclaims holding the door open, entering the car. Only humming in response, repositioning myself in the driver seat, staring deadly out the window, "Wow, what's up?" She asked instantly knowing something's off.

"What? Why would anything be up?" Shaking my head, trying to focus on now and not the past, "Oh I don't know maybe you burning a hole into my school with your eyes or the fact that you haven't acknowledged Maggie in the back seat." She states with that smart tone that I love oh so much.

Swirling round in my seat, I met with the contagious smile of Maggie Greene. She a delightful one. A pure soul who could honestly do no wrong, and yet somehow she's best friends with Cora. The pair are polar opposites, like two peas from completely different pods but it somehow makes sense. Cora is like a hyperactive puppy whereas Maggie is a house cat. Maggie keeps Cora grounded. Without Maggie, I don't even want to know where Cora would be.

When Cora first started college she got in with the wrong crowd. She started to miss important family events; like our weekly game of family-friendly monopoly. Cora wasn't Cora anymore, she was someone new, she was trying hard to become something she wasn't. That's until she met Maggie. Apparently, Maggie went through something similar, I don't know all the details, that's a secret between them. All I know is that they met in the student car park at night completely shitfaced with no way to get home. It all came from that singular moment of stupidity, and I'm glad it did because I've already 'lost' one sister, I don't need to lose another.

"Hi Maggie, sorry just had a weird day at work," I half lied, staring up the car again driving out of the almost desert car park, "The farm?" I asked, knowing where to drop her off having done it a couple of times.

"Don't worry about it Macy, we all have our days, and yes please if you don't mind," her southern accent radiating through the car, a genuine smile covering her face meeting at her eyes. Nodding my head, my eyes training back on the road but my mind and eyes can't help but wonder. It was only a few miles back that I saw those things from the news, they could be lurking around here too.

"You will not believe what Ashton said to me today," Cora said, kicking her feet up on the dash of my car, her hand sitting comfortably behind her head. "Oh please do tell," taking one hand off the wheel to push her dirty Dc. Martens on my beloved car.

Scoffing as her feet slap against the floor of my car, y'know where a normal passenger's feet are supposed to go, "He said, 'i think we should see different people', and I was like 'why', and he said, get a load of this, 'I just don't think it's working out'. Yeah no shit it's not working out, he never calls me, never texts me, and that's the first time he has ever spoken to me in school," leaning towards the cool air drifting through the window as she rants about her love life.

"Ashton a grade-A douche, I pretty sure we've had this conversation every time I pick you up," I state as the boredom begin to consume me at the ritual of Cora's love life discussion coming up once again. Looking in the rearview mirror I see Maggie nodding her head in agreement, "I agree, out of all the guys in our school you choose Ashton," she gags making a yuck sound, her face scrunching up at the thought of her best friends boyfriend.

"It's kind of your fault y'know," I laughed as she sided eyed me, "you met a guy called Ashton and expected him to what? sweep you off your feet?"

"She's got a point," Maggie pointed out hiding her laughter better than me, "No she doesn't!" Exclaimed Cora as she turns around to fully face Maggie in the back middle seat, "what about your love life huh, oh yeah it doesn't exist," she sassed hands crossed over her chest, a smirk on her face as though proud of her very mediocre remark.

Shaking my head at my sister's antics, "Maggie will meet a guy when she's ready too. Just because she not actively looking doesn't mean it will never happen. And I bet when she does meet someone, he'll be a million times better than Ashton or any of those other guys you've been with."

"Thank you, Macy," I hear her quietly responded, shyness overtaking her voice at my comment. Not being able to hide my smile at the innocent girl behind me and the slightly ticked off girl beside me, "um hello! You're supposed to be on my side-," Cora's voice shuts off to a silent whisper. Confused at her sudden change of tone, I glance her way. Her eyes trained directly out the front window, never blinking.

Trying to find what she was looking for wasn't hard. It's them. Only a few, 2 male and 1 woman, a couple of meters away from my travelling car. These are different, they're nothing like the ones I encountered earlier. The ones from before were coming towards me at an agonising walking pace, these ones however are running, running extremely fast.

Cora's heavy breath begins to fill the car, as Maggie mutters incoherent words. I however am static, this wasn't just a one time encounter. In the space of not even an hour, I've seen a dozen of these people. The government has issued official reports telling us, the public, that's there is absolutely nothing to worry about and they have this all under control. At first, I believed that, but now with these thing sprinting towards my car, I'm beginning to beg to differ.

"Um, Macy drive. Macy, please drive!" A panicked Cora heaves in my ear. Judging from my previous encounter, fight or flight is not an option right now. Not until I fully understand what these things are.

My tires make the all to familiar shrieking against the warm tar, with nowhere else to go but straight through the few in the middle of the road. The sound of the dead weight hitting the bonnet of my car before flying over the top was like nothing I've heard before. It's sounded sickening. A mixture of bones clashing and screams. A horrific sight and sound.

The car stayed in utter silence until I pulled up to the Greene farm, to where none of us dared to move a muscle. You could hear a pin drop over the sounds of slightly irregular breathing. The beating sun shining through the front window causing the car to feel more insufferable.

"That's those things from the new isn't it?" Asked Cora quietly as though scared to break the silence. Having not enough courage in my voice to reply, I just simply nod, "that's why you had a weird day at work, wasn't it?" She asked again, this time staring at me but I refuse to meet her eyes only nodding again. Hearing the shaky breath from behind me and the sound of the door opening, snapped me back to reality.

Looking out through Cora's window, I see a slouched Maggie struggling to keep her balance. Pulling my lips into a tight smile, "Be safe," I said gently toward the shaken up girl. Muster up a nod she replies, "you too, the both of you," before turning round to met her sister Beth at the porch. Seeing the pleasant girl brought a smile to my face as I waved back to the gleeful youngest Greene.

Once Maggie was safely inside her farmhouse that's when I pulled away, only to have something at the corner of my eye catch my attention. Hershel, Maggie's father, walking away from the slightly beat barn. In his hands some sort of animal handling pole. Nothing unusually really, Hershel is a vet but that's not what's concerning. The glooming blood dripping slightly off the loop is however concerning.

"Hey Mr Greene," greeted Cora, her voice still failing her a little. Laughing at the younger girls formalities, "how many time have I told you to call me Hershel," he said walking closer to the car, a cloth in hand as he tried to discreetly clean the pole in his hands, but the deed was already done, I had already seen it.

"A couple more times should do the trick," she tries to joke, wanting to forget what had just happened. Luckily enough Hershel doesn't notice the pressed bloody handprints of the front and sides of my car, as he leans to see me at the driver's seat, "Thank you for dropping our Maggie off again Macy, it really means a lot."

"Don't sweat it. Didn't want her travelling back home herself especially now with the mess that's all over the news," a sharp inhale from Cora causes me to reach over, comfortingly grabbing her sweaty hands in my own, rubbing the backs for her hands softly.

"Ah yes, I did see that. I'm sure its nothing to worry about," he waves his hand slightly, looking over his shoulder at the barn he had just left. I frowned my eyebrows at the elder's change in body language; his wondering eyes and shuffling feet are causing me to doubt the man's knowledge of the current situation.

"Better safe than sorry I guess," I dismiss getting ready to drive off again, "I suppose you're right," his voice becoming harder to hear with him no longer facing me. The sound of my engine starting up again is what snaps him in our direction, "Well Thank you again, have a good day," he farewelled beginning to make his leave, walking up the same creaking steps to the porch.

Before he could catch the door handle, I yell, "Hey Hershel," catching his attention, "Be safe," only to receive a simple nod before he descended into his home. Home.

"Let go home," I exhale tapping my sister leg, catching her teary eyes, "we'll be fine."

I don't know who I was trying to reassure, Cora or myself, but with what has been going on recently, I think everybody could use a bit of reassuring.

This is quite a short chapter but I need to start somewhere right? If you took the time to read this, Thank you! and I hope that you liked it :) 

I might start a taglist for this au, so if you would be interested in being tagged when I post for this au then just message me or comment to let me know!

I’m going to try and post chapter two later today hopefully too :))

DAISY.

#twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead au #twd imagines #twd au #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes imagines #rick Grimes x reader #glenn rhee #glenn rhee imagines #glenn rhee x reader #carol patelier #Maggie greene #Maggie greene imagines #michonne #negan #negan imagines #negan x reader #the walking fanfiction

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas: Chapter 1

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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Chapter 1

[Ron]

Ron wakes up to the strong desert sunlight assaulting his eyelids and turns onto his stomach to bury his face into his pillow. The bed is so warm and comfortable, the satin sheets enveloping him into a nourishing hug. The pillow has somehow maintained its shape and is just the right combination of cold and cozy. His back feels fine, which very much exceeds his expectations, based on how his back usually feels when he wakes up. Maybe an expensive mattress is just what he needs.

Soon enough, his real-life anxieties start to surface. How much does this mattress cost, anyway? What about these sheets? How much extra did this room charge for the scented pillows? Am I even paying for it?

He tentatively opens his eyes, zeroing in on a tray that lies on the floor by his bed. It's adorned with discarded chocolate-covered strawberries, two empty champagne flutes, and a bottle of whipped cream. He never eats whipped cream.

Did I have a girl over last night?

Ron sucks in a breath and freezes in his satin sheets. Gingerly, he turns his head to the other side of the bed, catching a whiff of the pillows he thought were scented before.

Perfume, you idiot.

He lifts his gaze over the mountain of fluffy blankets and high-thread-count sheets, half expecting to see wispy blonde hair glossing the pillow and a hot-pink nightgown that doesn't entirely cover her familiar set of curves. Maybe there would even be lipstick streaked across the pillows. Bloody hell, perhaps he was covered in lipstick, too. Do they charge extra to clean up shit like that? He wouldn't know; he doesn't stay in hotels often.

Honestly, he may have been relieved if Lavender was beside him. They dated for years, and he knows her well. Ever since they broke up, she's been not-so-subtly trying to get him back in bed. She likes having sex with him, and quite frankly, he likes it too. At this point, he knows her body well. She's difficult to disappoint.

On the other hand, she may have mistaken him sleeping with her for regret about ending things, and he has no desire to set the record straight again. Las Vegas is already far enough out of his comfort zone, so Ron will do what it takes to avoid any conflict on this trip.

However, he doesn't have to worry about that because when he peers over the blankets, the girl sleeping beside him is not Lavender Brown.

Instead of a hot-pink nightgown, she's wearing a black pair of mens' boxers and a bright orange Chudley Cannons T-Shirt, with the words "World's Best Coach" emblazoned across the back. He loves that shirt. It was a gift from the youth football team he's coached for years, and he never even let Lavender wear it. Not that she ever asked to, but that's beside the point.

Who the fuck is she?

Still, her head is buried under her pillows, effectively masking her identity. He reaches toward the pillows and gently lifts them to reveal her face, or more accurately, her hair. There's so much goddamn hair. It looks like someone has loaded a t-shirt cannon with curly brown hair and unleashed it onto the pillow beside him.

No. It can't be...

He wonders how he survived the night unstrangled when his companion's hair moves on its own accord like the limbs of a sentient and unpredictable willow tree. Is it as easy to anger as its owner? It begs the question — how the hell has he managed to wake up next to Hermione Jean Granger, his sister's nightmare of a Maid of Honor?

Swiftly but smoothly, he removes his blankets and rises to his feet, only to discover that he's completely starkers. He grabs the first thing he can find — a towel — and wraps it around his hips while he searches the floor for something to wear. Luckily, he's in his hotel room, and his suitcase is wide open on the floor. He exhales a sigh of relief and collapses next to it, pulling garments out one by one. He lands on a pair of inside-out khaki shorts and red short-sleeve button-down, one of his favorite shirts that Lavender would never let him wear. She always said it clashed with his hair.

When he turns the shorts right, a piece of paper floats to the ground. It must have been folded up into his pocket. Out of curiosity, he picks it up and unravels it. He has to read it twice before realization kicks in, and his jaw drops to the floor. His hand is suddenly shaky, but not enough to obscure the words 'Marriage Certificate' across the top.

It's even signed and dated. Ron B. Weasley. Hermione J. Granger. Fuck. This had to be some sort of a practical joke.

He looks back to the bed, and he can't ignore the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Hermione's head is still buried under the pillows, the Chudley Cannons Tee rising and falling rhythmically with her breath. Suddenly, he's extremely nervous. She'll wake up soon, and what will happen when she sees him?

She'll probably be pretty upset. Unlike Lavender, she seems easy to disappoint.

Bloody hell.

x

One week earlier…

"I'm Hermione Granger."

She extends a hand to Ron, who reluctantly shakes it. Firm handshake.

"And you are?"

"I'm Ron." She raises her eyebrows. "Ron Weasley? The bride's brother? The groom's best friend?" He tries not to be offended when she removes her hand and wipes it on her trousers. "You honestly don't know me?"

"I figured," she shrugs. "But most people introduce themselves without assuming others know who they are."

Her unfiltered judgment catches him off guard. It strikes a nerve, and he can't help but wonder why Ginny has selected her as her Maid of Honor.

His instinct is to snap right back, but he fights it. He is about to embark on a ten-day international trip to celebrate his sister's wedding, and as the Best Man, he'll be working closely with Hermione and the other bridesmaids, one of them being his ex-girlfriend. It is going to be rough already.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Hermione Granger," he says as cheerfully as he can muster. He'll just have to get through this trip, and he'll never have to see her again.

Her reply is annoyingly curt. "Thanks." She takes a seat and motions for him to do the same. The gesture is subtle, but it keeps him on edge. He doesn't need permission to sit down. He's tempted to keep standing simply out of spite, but on the other hand, he would like to avoid a power struggle.

He shakes his head as if doing so would reset this terrible first impression. He wants to like her — she's one of Ginny's best friends — but he already feels himself building a wall.

She waves down a server, and Ron squirms at how impatient she seems. What's her rush? The server grumbles when he approaches, and Ron tries to send an apologetic glance his way. "I'll have an iced coffee."

The server nods, then glances expectantly at Ron. "Oh erm... same, I guess.".

"No straws," adds Hermione.

"Noted," quips the server.

"Actually," says Ron, "I would like a straw."

"Straws are awful for the environment," she says when the server's out of earshot. "You don't really need them."

Ron fights the urge to roll his eyes. He's determined to keep it cool, so he takes a steadying breath and changes the subject. "We should compare itineraries for the bride and groom."

"Yes, I agree. In fact, I have put together a tentative plan for the joint stag and hen party." She slides a piece of paper across the table to him. The level of detail is horrendous. It's also laminated. She's organized, that's for sure.

"Hold on," he says. "A joint stag and hen party?"

"Yes, it's more efficient this way. You can see on page four, I've already made reservations at a hotel on The Strip, and for pretty much everything, bigger parties mean bigger discounts."

Ron's heart sinks. He has been planning a surprise stag party for Harry, and he was pretty excited about it. Harry wouldn't go for this. There's no way.

"Hermione, I think the boys would prefer a separate party." Ron was also looking forward to a night out with just the boys — Harry, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. It would be a very different experience if the girls were there too. Well, Ginny, Luna, and Demelza would be fun. Lavender? Hermione? No thanks.

"I've already spoken to Harry, and he loves the idea."

Ron straightens up and stares back at her, for a moment forgetting to mask his hurt. "He… what?"

"Yeah, he already agreed to it."

Their conversation pauses as the waiter returns to deliver their iced coffee. Hermione scowls at Ron and rolls her eyes as he takes a long drag from his plastic straw. Maybe he should ask for a second one just to tick her off some more.

Keep it cool, Ron.

Hermione's expression softens. "I know it must be awkward for you to spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend. Ginny told me about the breakup. She wasn't expecting you two to split before the wedding,"

Unfortunately, the Lavender thing contributes to his resistance to a joint party, but he hates that she can sense that. He hates that Ginny told her about his breakup.

"Look," says Hermione, leaning closer.

He's skeptical of what she might say, but it seems like she's genuinely trying to be caring, so he leans in to listen.

"It'll be hard, but we can't let our personal issues affect this. This wedding is about Harry and Ginny. No one else."

Ron sinks dejectedly back into his chair, immediately regretting giving her the benefit of the doubt. Our personal issues. "What are you saying?"

"I'm asking that we don't bring any unnecessary drama along. Leave it here, and focus on the bride and groom."

"We?"

She nods. "Yes, we. I will also leave my issues at home." She really is infuriating. He's going to have a chat with his sister about her choice of best friend.

"So no drama at the wedding. None." He takes another swig of his drink, raising his eyebrows at her. She scowls again at the straw.

"No drama."

"Deal." He reaches out a hand, and she takes it. Another firm handshake.

Then, something on his face catches her eye. "You've got something on your nose."

He releases her hand and rubs his nose.

She shrugs. "Must have been dirt."

He forces his lips into a smile and wonders if it looks as fake as the one she returns.

What a nightmare.

x

He's pulled out of his reverie by an abrupt jerking of limbs from the bed. Hermione's rhythmic breathing turns into a groan when she tugs the pillow off of her head. She slaps a hand over her eyes when the sunlight hits them, and she groans again, angrily this time. Any illusions of peacefulness are a far distant memory.

When she finally opens her eyes, it's her look of horror that alerts Ron to the fact that he never put on his khaki shorts and a red shirt. He's still hovering next to her bed in a towel, staring at her. He's suddenly very aware of how pale and freckly he is.

"Why are you—?" Eyes wide, she rises to a seat in bed, her hair billowing in every possible direction. She looks down at her body and pinches his Cannons shirt with her fingers like it's a dirty napkin. "Why am I wearing this?" She glances back at Ron and scowls. "Why am I here?"

Ron opens his mouth to answer, but he is unprepared to fill her in. Like her, he has not yet processed this. Before he can explain, the towel starts to unravel from his hips. He motions to catch it, but his right hand is clutching his clothes, and his left hand is clutching a goddamn marriage certificate, so the towel unwinds and lands in a pile on the floor. When Hermione's eye line lowers, her cheeks blush. Ron can't tell if she's embarrassed, angry, or impressed, but he hopes for a combination of the three.

"Morning!" He grins goofily, emulating the falsely excited tone he's become so accustomed to using around her.

It brings her gaze back to his eyes. "Ronald Weasley. What the hell is going on?"

#ROMIONE #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #muggle au #waking up in vegas #hp fanfiction #hpromione #romionecom